Part I: Because The Tyrant's Eye is the strongest.
It had to be like this.
There was nothing he could do under the circumstances.
This wasn't just an excuse because he was afraid of the consequences.
Rikka's powers weren't strong enough to allow her tyrant's eye to disclose the full truth to her.
Her mental state was too fragile to be able to accept his truth.
A truth that had only hit him with full force recently.
It couldn't be helped.
He had to suppress it.
He couldn't let the Demon Duchess take over his mind.
No matter how much his insides were screaming at him that he wanted to give in to her.
He had committed to being Rikka's contractee for all eternity.
He couldn't go back on his word.
A hero was duty-bound to keep all his promises, wasn't he, Satone?
He was bound to Rikka until she decided to release him of her own free will, wasn't he?
But what if she never did?
His heart clenched.
He cared enough about Rikka to pretend for her sake.
He had been the one to pursue her [as much as she had] and drag her into this tangle of chunni and love mess after all.
He had never thought that he would see Satone again.
He had hoped. Somewhere in the back of his mind.
But it had never occurred to him that she would ever spring back into his life, and come alive for him again.
She had left him without a single word of goodbye or any way for him to contact her.
She had said not saying goodbyes left the possibility of meeting again in the future wide open.
He had clung to that somewhere in the darker, lonely recesses of his mind, but dammit.
She had disappeared without a trace, of her own free will, leaving him empty and lifeless and no lifeline to cling to other than her damn empty, flimsy philosophy of goodbyes.
He gave up all hope. She had become too painful to even think about.
Reality had come crashing down on him after she left.
And He had forced himself to focus on the dreadful embarrassment of his lonely, chunnibyou condition instead.
He grew up.
He gave her up.
Her and everything to do with her and The Eigth Grade Syndrome he suffered from.
Until Rikka came along.
Unconsciously, he fell in love with all the parts of her that reminded him of Satone.
It hit him with the glaring, earth-shattering embarrassment of his shameful gerzonius move; eternal dark flames of love and all.
All the things he loved about Rikka were all the things he loved about Satone.
Why hadn't he realized that before?
Oh Rikka! He was so so sorry.
All he had done in the time Satone was gone, was fall in love with another Satone all over again.
Except Rikka wasn't Satone, but she was so much like her that he was only able to tell the differences after Satone sprang back into his life with a bang.
But you're not ready to hear that, are you Rikka?
Rikka, who was a lot like her, but not her.
And Satone, who was a lot like Rikka, but felt larger than life to him.
From the moment she reappeared in his life, he felt the crashing force of her vivid presence and dynamic personality with every breath he took and every moment he spent with her, whether alone or in the midst of a crowd.
That was Satone, the girl who he felt had a much bigger impact in everything she did.
She hadn't changed a bit.
She could still command the attention of everybody in her vicinity and charm the most disagreeable person with ease and finesse.
Her endearing spontaneity and incorrigibleness knew no bounds.
Rikka couldn't compare. Rikka couldn't win.
He was supposed to be the one person; one thing that would ensure Rikka's win.
But he was faltering badly.
Maybe if he had met Rikka before Satone. Maybe then things might have been different.
As things stood now, even though Rikka had him, he wasn't hers.
It was all an elaborate, unconscious pretense and he didn't want to pretend anymore.
But He had realized the painful fact too late, hadn't he?
It had taken her reappearing in his rewound life and experiencing her full on, in all her authentic glory, to rewind time for him and come to terms with how he simply couldn't her with Rikka in his heart.
No matter how hard he tried to delude himself that it would be okay and he would move forward with Rikka, he couldn't replace her with Rikka.
And he couldn't lie to himself that Rikka had the largest portion of his heart when he knew now that it was Satone that did.
She was special and she would always be special in the deepest, secret recesses of his heart.
But Rikka deserved more than being loved for being Satone's shadow.
He really did like Rikka, but he had fallen in love with her for being like Satone.
And that wasn't fair to her, but what was he to do now?
He was trapped in a dilemma of his own doing.
He couldn't tell her the direct truth. She wasn't strong enough to hear it.
As long as Rikka remained childlike and unwilling, he couldn't risk devastating her on any level.
He had also promised Touka-san he would look after her.
He had tried to get her to accept reality, but that had turned out badly last time.
He didn't have feasible options.
Her past was proof enough that she couldn't handle any drastic, unfavorable truths that would cause her insurmountable pain.
It hurt.
Satone would have to remain a beautiful, aching symphony of painful what if's, haunting him for the rest of an eternity that he would have to spend with Rikka, a girl who was a lot like Satone, but not her.
It hurt.
It wasn't so bad. He liked Rikka. But she wasn't Satone.
And it wasn't fair. To either of them.
Not for Rikka. Not for Satone. And Not for him.
He didn't want to live this deception.
No matter how many times he said aloud Rikka was the one he loved the most in the world, it wasn't the truth.
Every cell in his body wanted to scream aloud his truth, painfully and embarrassingly, that Satone was the one he loved the most in the world.
Satone was the one he loved.
Satone is the one he still loves.
Satone.
What should he do?
Tell Rikka the truth and bring her down to harsh reality again? What if she crashes and burns?
Rikka was so fragile.
She was not at all like Satone in this regard, who would stand lithe and proud, smiling her secret broken smile at the world, like the regal dutchess she was, no matter how many jagged pieces she was on the inside.
But he would know.
And he would remember.
Because he was focused on those sweet lime lights of hers.
He would see the moment when they filled with haunting pearls of regret.
When the dam cracked and its painful restraints snapped, the gilded pearls gliding endlessly down the sweet slope of her flushed cheeks and aching tremble of her parted lips.
He would know.
He didn't want to live this deception.
He didn't want to be the cause of pain for either of them.
He cried on the inside in desperation.
Please uncover my truth Rikka!
The tyrant's Eye is supposed to be the strongest, isn't it?
No truth should be able to hide from it.
No matter how ugly, right?
Then see through me Rikka!
He cried internally in silent anguish.
See thorugh me.
I want you to see through me.
Uncover my truth and accept it.
Because Rikka…
The Tyrant's Eye is the strongest, right?