WARNING: Graphic depictions of violence and bloodshed this chapter. As the Sakurada family has never known brutality, they're hypersensitive and easily traumatized. Proceed at your own risk.


"Fascinating."

When no particular explanation is forthcoming from her earpiece, she sighs. "I'll bite. What is it, brother dearest?"

"Nothing that concerns your path, Hikari. Continue as planned."

"You bastard. You can't bait me and then leave me hanging. Fishing for compliments doesn't work like that. I'm stroking your superiority complex here. The least you could do is come for me."

"You're absolutely disgusting."

"You know it's true. Explain those dirty numbers to me, Haruka."

"If you insist. Their probability of success along the alternate pathway has increased by a good 5.3%. By comparison, regardless of your actions, the numbers shift by approximately 0.071%. Do whatever you want, dear sister. I don't care."

Two clicks in her earpiece indicate that he's muted her. That fucking bastard! She'll show him. What'll the numbers say when she reduces the entire fucking high school to dust and ashes?


High school is so fu… freakin' boring!

Hikari's known since childhood that she was going into the entertainment business; she doesn't need a high school education. Maybe Shuu will allow her to age herself up a few years so she can pass as a senior. Wouldn't it be so cool if she could graduate alongside Misaki and Haruka?

Eh, but even when Shuu becomes king, Dad will still be his advisor. Not to mention he'll still be, y'know, her dad. Uuuugh. And Mom's three hundred times more stubborn than Dad, so begging her for early graduation is a lost cause.

The boy in the desk behind hers won't stop bouncing his leg. The entire floor around her feels like it's shaking. So fu… freakin' annoying. As much as she wants to snap at him though, her manager wants her to project this cheerful bubbly happy manic pixie dream girl shtick to the public eye. This also includes family-friendly swearing, so she settles for reaching back with a dainty finger and tapping his desk twice.

The windows in the entire back half of the classroom explode. Wind disturbs the tiny hairs on her forearm, weightless glass shards sparkle past her head, and something warm and wet splashes onto her outstretched hand.

Her squeal disappears into the myriad of screams echoed by her classmates. She snatches her hand to her chest - wet, still wet - but freezes when her fingers come up red. Red, so red. Blood? B-But why? Where? She doesn't feel any pain. Who…

She turns her head, just far enough to catch the splatter of crimson along the far walls of her classroom, before quickly angling her face at the floor to upchuck today's breakfast. Oh my gods. Holy… crap. Holy shit. The flowering sakura tree just outside her school is no longer; in its place stands a gnarled monstrosity that somehow grew fifty years in the span of three seconds and thrust its growing, twisted branches into the bodies of her screaming classmates.

This isn't a nightmare. This isn't a dream. This is her superpower in action. This is her at her worst.

"Holy fuck," her voice says. "And here I thought you'd put up more of a fight."

Hikari's body moves without her consent. Her eyes glide over the broken bodies, the knobbly branches drenched red, and snap onto the woman with her unmasked face and hair and voice, exactly the same as her save for the all-black outfit and the cruel glint in her ice blue eyes.

"W-Who are you?"

The other her rolls her eyes. "Isn't it obvious? You're me, only weak and pathetic." She stares down her nose at the destroyed room around her. "Poor Castle Town. I'll bet this world has never experienced war, huh. Not even drought and famine? Riots and fire, maybe? Does anybody even jaywalk here?"

Life pulses through Hikari's fingers as she rests them on the desktop of the boy who's once bounced his leg. He's halfway across the room now. She shuts him out. Don't puke. Don't panic. Focus on the performance. Her life could depend on it. "You're… from another universe?" She doesn't have to feign wide-eyed fear or the warble in her words.

"This is my world now," her evil other grins. Screams echo from the - from the bodies draped along the - the tree limbs as they shudder and sprout new branches and -

She barely reanimates the wood at her fingertips in time to save herself; Its size swells with Hikari's lifeforce, expanding into a massive wall that blocks the wooden serpents angling for her torso and face.

New screams announce the fates of the rest of her class all around her.

Tears burn tracks down Hikari's cheeks. Hot crimson paints the floor. Her ears have all but shut out the agony of people she never cared and now may never get to know. Jagged black spears are all around her; she has no escape. Her cry for help comes out as a choked whisper.

"That was a pretty cool trick you did there," her other comments, rounding the defensive wall. Her fingers trail along the length of a branch. Tiny twigs sprout from the wood all around Hikari, sharp points stretching out eagerly. It's an unspoken threat: just try running. "Maybe I could learn a thing or two from you. You still callin' it God's Hand?"

Entertainment pushed Hikari past her breaking point several times in her past. Perverts have tried to kidnap her. An attempt was made on her life once by a suicidal fan. However, never has her singing career prepared her to stare down certain death with bravado. She was never trained for combat and reanimating the wooden desk alone has drained her of what little stamina she possessed. She knows nothing of war or famine or riots. Nobody can fault her for breaking down into tears as her other grasps her chin and forces their eyes to meet.

"I fine-tuned my power into something so incredible, I had to rename it," she coos. "I like to call it Death's Touch."