The Wings of an Angel

by TheCartoonFanatic01

His time in the Afterlife now over, Otonashi has been reincarnated into Arata Takahashi, an average paperboy whose life just sucks all around. However, all of that changes when he is forced to meet Chouko Hashimoto, the silver-haired daughter of a successful businessman. Why is it that he feels he knows her despite her being a complete stranger? R&R! UPDATES ON OCCASION!

36. Forgiveness

A/N: Hey, everyone! Welcome back to the fic! I hope I didn't keep you all waiting long enough. If you've been following my profile updates, then you'll know I got myself into a tight pickle with a skin infection, but it has been cleared out for a few weeks now. This gives me the time to refine this chapter that I've had lying around in my documents for some time.

Anyway, I do hope you're all doing well in these trying times! I just wanted to let you guys know that we are in the final stretch of this fic! Including this chapter, we have three chapters to go before the ultimate conclusion! HOORAY! There's going to be no more dawdling, only wrap-ups and pure drama. I hope you're with me in this journey to the end!

Alrighty then, let's get on with this long-awaited chapter! ENJOY!

P.S.: Due to the ever-worsening situation regarding the coronavirus outbreak, I'm going to have to remind you all about the basic steps you should take if you want to stay healthy, courtesy of my university's reminder emails:

-Wash hands often with soap and water for 20-30 seconds at a time, and/or use hand sanitizer
-Avoid close contact with people who are sick
-Keep your hands away from nose, eyes, and mouth (I can't imagine how difficult this part is probably going to be)
-Eat well, get adequate rest, and exercise regularly
-Get a flu shot if you haven't already and are able to

And if you ARE sick (I hope you get better if you are), please be a good sport and save other folks the trouble of getting sick. You can do this by:

-Covering your mouth and nose with your sleeve, elbow, or a tissue whenever you sneeze or cough
-Not sharing food and drinks with others
-Avoiding touching your mouth, nose, and eyes (Again, I understand this is probably going to be difficult)
-Avoiding close contact with others
-Cleaning and disinfecting surfaces and objects
-Staying at home if you're unwell (PRIORITY NUMBER ONE!)
-Staying calm and keeping yourself well-informed (My personal advice)

If you already know this, then great! If you didn't know any of this beforehand, please keep that information in mind as we all go through this trying time. It's a realm of unknowns at this point, and I wish myself and all of humanity well.

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CHAPTER 33: FORGIVENESS

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Afterlife Name - Post-Afterlife Name

Yuri Nakamura - Kimiko Nishimura

Takamatsu - Takayoshi Asahara

Yusa - Rikana Egami

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ACTIVATING_SECONDARY_PROTOCOL

ACTIVATING_SECONDARY_PROTOCOL

ACTIVATING_SECONDARY_PROTOCOL

ACTIVATING_SECONDARY_PROTOCOL

ACTIVATING_SECONDARY_PROTOCOL

---

The Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department Headquarters
Chiyoda, Tokyo

"PLEASE! I-I SWEAR!" A small part of Kimiko's brain realized it wasn't just sweat that was dripping down her cheeks, as she beheld the sight of Yamashita holding a silver 9mm Beretta to Kaisei's head. "I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ELSE!"

The golden-cloaked man huffed defiantly. "I really don't like being played with, Nishimura."

"WHY WOULD I HOLD SOMETHING LIKE THIS BACK FROM YOU WHEN MY SIBLINGS' LIVES ARE IN DANGER?!"

"I don't know. Some misplaced sense of self-righteousness? Well, I think it's time I straightened out that sense." With a manic grin, Yamashita pressed the barrel into Kaisei's head as he sobbed. "FOURTHREETWOONE!"

"NOOOOO!"

BANG!

Kimiko jumped and froze at the sudden loud noise, but in that moment, her mind, overwhelmed with absolute terror and grief, could not comprehend what had just happened.

Then, she heard his voice.

"YURI, GET DOWN!"

She did. Guided by some foreign but familiar instinct that was bursting from the seams of her heart, the magenta-haired girl threw herself to the floor, feeling time slow down to a crawl as she did. Normally, she would have thought about what that would entail for the well-being of her three siblings, but that concern was overwhelmed by a deep-seated trust and a brimming confidence that everything had become alright now.

"WHAT THE-?!" Yamashita began, breaking the ice caging Kimiko's temporal perception.

BANG!

Kimiko could hear her siblings scream, all three of them, along with the sound of something collapsing to the floor.

"BOSS!" one of her captors roared. "OPEN FIRE!"

The hammering sounds of gunfire echoed through the room, and Kimiko covered her ears. Opening one eye, she craned her head up and saw Naomi, Tamika, and Kaisei still bound to their chairs, physically unhurt. Then, she noticed the body of Yamashita crumpled behind Kaisei's chair, motionless and draped by his golden cloak.

Then, she looked beside her and saw Yamashita's accomplices firing indiscriminately at an unknown enemy. They fell one by one, their chests riddled with bullet holes, and whenever one tried to aim their guns at either Kimiko or her siblings, a single, well-placed shot to the head decided their fate.

Once another one of Yamashita's accomplices fell, someone else entered her field-of-view. Kimiko's sea-green eyes grew wide upon recognizing the burgundy hair and eyes that blazed with determination and protectiveness.

"YURI!" Otonashi hollered at the top of his lungs. "GET YOUR SISTERS AND BROTHER! NOW!"

Kimiko didn't bother correcting Otonashi's error. Instead, her heart welled up with paramount gratitude, and she nodded.

"GOT IT!"

Kimiko leaped back to her feet and ran over to her bound siblings while Otonashi continued engaging the cultists. Just as she reached them, bullets began striking and ricocheting over her head, but she refused to let the fear break through her facade. It was her chance to free her siblings, and after the horrible trauma they had just been spared from seconds ago, she couldn't bear to have them see her, their idol and protector, still so scared.

"NEE-CHAAAAAN!" wailed Kaisei as she started to untie him first.

"It's alright, Kaisei-chan!" Kimiko cried, her voice nearly breaking into an uncontrollable sob. "It's alright! I'm here! I-I'm here!"

Once she untied Kaisei, the boy got out of his chair and covered his ears to protect them from the hammering sounds of gunfire. As for Kimiko, she prepared to untie Tamika next when her peripheral vision caught the sight of Yamashita's still body. She warily looked at it for a few moments before proceeding to untie her youngest sister.

"Onee-chan!" Tamika cried. "What's going on?! Wh-Who are all of these people?!"

"Don't worry about them, Tamika-chan!" Kimiko replied. "For now, we have to worry about getting outta here!"

"But I heard them mention nuclear weapons!"

"My friends are working on that."

"Your friends?!" Naomi cried in disbelief.

"Yes, my friends!" At that point, Kimiko had finished untying Tamika, allowing the other girl to get off her chair and hug Kaisei with immense relief. "You have to trust us, Naomi! We're gonna take care of it, I promise!"

"OH, NO YOU DON'T!"

"ONEE-CHAN!" Tamika screamed.

Kimiko twirled around and saw Yamashita shooting back up to his feet, his Beretta aimed at Tamika and Kaisei's heads. A strong urge to dive between her siblings and the bullet instantly overtook all of Kimiko's reasoning. But before she could even do so, she heard a loud battle cry pierce the air, almost drowning out the sounds of gunfire.

Then, a split-second later, Kimiko saw a blur of purple and silver rushing towards Yamashita. Before the golden-cloaked man could react, there was a quick flash of light, followed by stripes of red filling the air, punctuated with a bloodcurdling scream.

Kimiko looked down at the floor and saw Yamashita's Beretta clattering to her feet. Lying nearby, in an expanding pool of darkening blood, was his severed arm.

CLANG!

The girl looked back up and saw that Yamashita had run over to a desk, grabbed the laptop on it, and thrown it towards his attacker, warding him off briefly. Then, with his stump of a right arm dripping and reddening with blood, Yamashita picked up the only other thing lying on that desk: a 9mm Heckler & Koch UMP submachine gun.

"TAMIKA, KAISEI!" Kimiko shrieked. "HIDE!"

The two children dove underneath the security monitors, but Yamashita was no longer concerned with them. Instead, he opened fire with the UMP, aiming all of his bullets at the person who had attacked him: Noda.

"AH, SHIT!" the purple-haired delinquent snapped as he ran across the security room, just a couple of steps ahead of the automatic gunfire. "SHIT, SHIT, SHIT!"

With a cry, Kimiko dove for the floor again to avoid being caught in the line of fire, this time taking the still-bound Naomi with her. As for Noda, he ran in the middle of the gun battle between Otonashi and Yamashita's remaining men. Otonashi held his gunfire immediately, but the cultists focused their sights on Noda. Unfortunately, Yamashita was still so blinded with pain from losing his arm that he hit most of his own men, riddling their backs with bullets and sending them falling to the floor, lifeless. Only three cultists survived, but they were forced to take cover behind electrical equipment to avoid being shot, as did Otonashi and Noda.

Then, just as quickly as it began, Yamashita's gunfire stopped, and the man looked at his weapon in outrage.

"AH, GOD FUCKING DAMN IT!" he roared.

At the same time, Kimiko had begun crawling towards the fallen Naomi so she could untie her from her chair. Just then, Yamashita noticed, and he ran up to Kimiko and kicked her in the face with an outraged yell.

"NEE-CHAN!" Naomi cried as she watched Kimiko's head whip backward from the force of the impact. "NEE-CHAN, NO!"

"Tough luck, kiddo!" Yamashita snarled while looking down at the bound girl. "Your onee-chan's gonna die now for being such a pain in the ass!"

He then raised the butt of the UMP and aimed it at Kimiko's bloodied head. The magenta-haired girl could do nothing, for her vision was blinded by tears. She could feel something warm oozing from her numb nose.

"AAAAARRRRRGGGGGHHHHH!"

Noda rushed towards Yamashita, his bloodstained machete poised to strike. Yamashita's remaining men tried to shoot at him, but Otonashi covered the delinquent boy with suppressive fire. This allowed Noda to reach Yamashita and swing his machete down at him...

But Yamashita reacted quicker. Using his remaining arm, he raised the UMP and used it to parry Noda's blow. Then, the golden-cloaked man threw the gun at Noda's face, stunning him and allowing Yamashita to kick him in the groin.

"AAAUUUGGGHHH!" Noda cried. He dropped his machete and clutched his groin in pain. "Awwww, god frigging damn!"

"If that was true pain to you, kid," Yamashita growled, his eyes wide and his pupils dilated, "then you haven't lived at all. I'm gonna show you what true pain feels like."

He proceeded to grab Noda by the hair and then threw him headfirst into some electrical equipment, nearly knocking the boy out. Then, the cultist stomped his foot down upon Noda's right shoulder with all of the force he could muster. Kimiko could hear a gut-wrenching pop, followed by Noda's pained howl.

"There ya go, kid," spat Yamashita. "And rest assured, that was just a taster."

"NODA!" Otonashi cried shrilly. He tried to intervene, but Yamashita's remaining men forced him to take cover with their gunfire.

With the redhead distracted, and his prospective opponents incapacitated, Yamashita walked up to Noda's machete and picked it up, causing Kimiko's eyes to widen with alarm.

"I am fully intent on continuing our lecture..." drawled Yamashita.

She glanced at the silver Beretta, forgotten by Yamashita, and slowly crawled towards it. But then, a foot stomped down on her back, knocking the wind out of Kimiko.

"But first..."

Groggily, Kimiko looked up, feeling as if her head was being weighed down by a bag of bricks. Through her teary, blurred vision, she could see Yamashita aiming the machete at Naomi's neck.

"I'm just gonna finish what I started-"

"AAAAAGGGGGHHHHH!"

Fueled by adrenaline and motivated by a desire to protect, Noda shot up to his feet and ran towards Yamashita, ignoring the pain in his arm as best as he could. Before the golden-cloaked man could react, Noda ran straight into him headfirst and tackled him to the floor before he could cut Naomi's neck. Once they landed, the impact's force stunned Yamashita, causing him to release his grip on the machete.

"YOU WANNA GUT SOMEONE?!" Noda hollered as he began punching Yamashita's face with his good arm, using all of the force he could muster. "HUH?! WELL, WHY DON'T YA PICK ON SOMEONE YOUR OWN DAMN SIZE, BASTARD!"

He continued his assault on Yamashita, but it didn't last very long. With gritted teeth, the golden-cloaked man caught the delinquent's fist with his remaining hand and held on tight.

"You want to keep fighting even when you're in this condition," Yamashita replied with a sneer. "Ah, I'd choose my words carefully if I were you, kid."

He headbutted Noda, sending him toppling back down to the floor with a pained grunt. Then, he stood up and kicked the delinquent in the stomach a few times, incapacitating him and causing him to spit out blood. With his opponent down for the count, Yamashita bent to pick up Noda's machete again, wincing and moving slowly because of his bloodied stump. Kimiko watched Yamashita, her desire to move restricted by the disorientation she felt from the latest attacks on her.

Finally, she looked at the fallen Beretta, lying a few inches from Yamashita's severed arm. Its silver frame was calling out to her, beckoning her to take it and use it, but her body felt weak and useless. She could barely move a centimeter now.

Then, to her dismay, she could see Yamashita picking up the machete and straightening himself back out with a grunt.

"Nishimura," he taunted, "I may only have one of your siblings with us now. But I promise you, I'm gonna make sure the strikes count. Your sister will feel the pain of every. Single. Blow. And then, when I'm done with her, I'm gonna move on to your precious boyfriends. I'm sure they will make excellent replacements for your sister and brother. And speaking of which, after your boy-toys are done with, I'm gonna go find those two runts, and I'm gonna drag them back here across the floor, and I'm gonna tell them the whole way that they're gonna die, and that you failed them! And finally, finally..."

He aimed the blade straight at Kimiko's sea-green eye. "When I am done with them, when I've killed everyone you hold dear right in front of you, I'm gonna come for you. By that time, you're gonna wish you were dead, but even then, I am gonna make you take back that fucking wish!"

By that point, Yamashita's face had become pale and manic. He was moving in a frenzied, twitchy motion, the machete quivering in his grasp as he aimed it indiscriminately.

"I am gonna show you what happens when you mess with the likes of Hashimoto!"

With that, he set his sights on Naomi and raised the machete. Naomi's eyes widened in horror at the weapon, before she squeezed them shut.

"ONEE-CHAN!" she screamed.

Kimiko looked at the Beretta again, as Naomi's voice pierced through the wall of pain that encased her and hit her in the soul. Resisting the strings of agony and fate, the magenta-haired girl reached for the gun...

Only to find that it was a few inches out of her grasp.

"NO!" Kimiko began crawling forward, her hand groping desperately through empty air. "NO, NO, NO, NO!"

She then looked at Naomi again, and she could see the machete plunging towards her neck.

"NAOMI, NO!"

"AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!"

In the haze of his madness, Yamashita didn't see Otonashi coming straight for him. With his pistol now empty, Otonashi simply tackled Yamashita to the floor, causing the latter to drop the machete yet again. This time, however, the redhead grabbed the machete and slid it away from the cultist's grasp. Then, he began punching Yamashita over and over again.

"YOU!" Otonashi cried, a punch punctuating every word he said. "WILL! NOT! HURT! KIMIKO! OR! ANYONE ELSE! EVER! AGAIN!"

With an angered roar, Yamashita kneed Otonashi in the crotch and knocked him to the side. Then, he tried to stand back up, but Otonashi recovered quickly and kicked him away from the machete's proximity. Finally, the two stood up to their feet and stared one another down.

"You just don't know when to give up, do you, kid?" Yamashita asked. Then, the corners of his lips twitched. "Hashimoto always did like that about you, Takahashi."

"Perhaps he did," Otonashi replied. "But there's one thing: I'm NOT Takahashi, you bastard!"

Yamashita blinked with confusion at Otonashi's admission. Then, he gritted his teeth in fury, and the two charged at one another, their fists cocked and ready.

---

Bedroom of Arata Takahashi
Takahashi Household
Eleven years ago

"There you go, Arata-kun. Corners tucked in, night-light on, Birdie-san here to protect you, you should be ready to go for tomorrow!"

The kindly woman with red hair gave Arata Takahashi a gentle smile, a smile that assuaged the five-year-old every time he was about to succumb to the sandman's grasp. With one last pat to the head, the woman stood from the edge of the bed and was about to shut the lights off when a peculiar memory entered Arata's mind.

"Mommy?"

The woman stopped and looked down at her son. She almost squirmed upon seeing the curious, hopeful look etched on the boy's youthful, radiant face as he clutched the plush toy of a silver bird.

"Yes, Arata-kun, dear?" she replied.

Arata blinked, trying to recall the memory for a moment, before asking, "Is it true that butterflies carry the souls of the dead?"

The woman blinked in surprise at the question. Then, upon clearing her throat, she approached the side of the bed again and knelt so she could be the same height as her son.

"Well, wherever did you hear that, Arata-kun?"

Arata held onto his plushie tighter. "Someone in school said that."

"Well, they're correct, my dear," the woman replied. Then, with a fond smile of reminiscence, she began stroking Arata's hair, which was as red as hers. "My mother once told me the exact same thing. For a long time, it has been believed that butterflies carry the souls of the dead." She chuckled as she kept up the stroking, not failing to miss a beat. "You know, my mother also told me that if you follow a butterfly, you'll eventually solve a really big problem in your life. Or maybe even some big mystery in life."

Arata's burgundy eyes went wide with awe at the information. "Really?"

"Yeah." Then, the woman shrugged dismissively. "But I've never tried it out."

"Wow..."

"I know. Amazing, huh?" The mother patted her son encouragingly on the forehead. "Maybe you should try it out, Arata-kun. See what happens if you get far enough."

"I will, Mommy!" Arata exclaimed, his eyes shining as his mother stood back up and moved to turn off the lights. "I'll-I'll look for a butterfly at school tomorrow, and-and I'll follow it!" Then, as soon as the woman turned off the lights, his eyes became even more wide as an idea came to him. "A-And it'll lead me to Daddy!"

Upon hearing her son's declaration, the woman froze with a slight hiccup. Though the boy couldn't see it because of the darkness that had enshrouded the room, the woman's skin was paling. However, he did notice how silent and still she'd become.

"Mommy?" he asked. "Mommy, what's wrong?"

"O-Oh!" the woman squeaked. "N-Nothing, nothing. You...You do that, Arata-kun. I'm...I'm sure you'll find Daddy, one of these days."

Arata smiled. "And then we'll all live happily ever after!"

"Y-Yes, Arata-kun..." His mother looked out of the open doorway, her expression slack and absentminded. "Happily ever after..."

With that, she departed from the bedroom and slowly closed the door right behind her, making sure to give her son one last look as he started to fall asleep.

"Sleep well, Arata-kun. Dream a sweet dream for me...a dream of a better tomorrow, and a better day after..."

She closed the door, and the boy never noticed the ghost of the tear that had fallen from his mother's eye

---

"What happened to your dad?"

"I don't know. He wasn't around when I was born. Every time I ask my mom about him, she'd change the subject, and it would be the end of the conversation. ...Now that I mention it... Every time I bring up the topic, this look comes into her eyes. I don't know how else to describe it, but hollow. Whatever happened between my parents was obviously bad enough that my mom withheld everything about my dad from me."

---

Nishitōkyō, Japan
Six years ago

"St-Stupid Matsuda... H-He doesn't know a-anything... I-I'll sh-show him!"

The ten-year-old Arata walked down the neighborhood, so absorbed in his thoughts that he did not bother to check if he was about to fall off the sidewalk. His primary school uniform was scuffed, there were some dirt-marks on his hands and shins, and there was a soft bruise on his left cheek. With pursed lips, the redhead sniffled and wiped his nose to relieve it of the snot that was dribbling down from his nostrils.

"HAHAHA! Look at little Takahashi! He lives in the east side of Nishitōkyō! What a loser!"

"Ne, ne, he doesn't have a daddy! How stupid is that?!"

"Who wouldn't have a dad?"

"I'll show him. I have a dad. Everyone has a dad."

"There's no way he doesn't have a daddy. I bet he left him. That's gotta be it."

"I heard his dad is a gaijin from America. That must be why he never stuck around. My dad says Americans don't like to stick around for anything except for their own country."

"I heard his daddy's a big-time crook and he's in jail! I bet his mommy's too embarrassed to tell him that."

Takahashi clenched his fists as he unconsciously turned the corner of sidewalk. "I'll show Matsuda. I'll show everyone!"

"I heard his pops has a buncha wives, meaning Takahashi probably has a lotta moms!"

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. How can someone have a lot of mommies?"

"Well, Takahashi does! That's why he's such a loser! HAHAHAHAHA!"

To the redheaded boy's relief, Takahashi saw the doorway to his house ahead. He burst into a sprint, his body driven by a newfound energy and resolve to fulfill the goal that he had just laid out for himself. He passed one rundown, antiquated home after another; one barren, gray front yard after another.

As he neared his home, the front door opened up with a soft, welcoming creak. To his relief, out stepped his mother, who was holding a watering can in one hand and a magazine in the other.

"MOM!" Takahashi called loudly. "MOM, MOM, MOM!"

The woman looked up from the magazine in surprise. "Arata-kun? Wel- Oh my, slow down there! Y-You're gonna trip on something!"

But Takahashi disregarded his mother's warning, instead keeping up his rapid pace. He reached his doorstep in a matter of seconds, and once he did, he stared up and into his mother's eyes, which were just as burgundy as his. Blinking, the woman set down her watering can and gardening magazine, startled by the urgent look in her son's eyes.

"Is...Is something wrong, Arata-kun?" she asked worriedly.

"I wanna ask you something," the boy replied forcefully.

She blinked in surprise at the urgency of his voice. "Can't it wait? The garden needs-"

"It can't wait." Takahashi took a step closer to his mother, and his posture was tall and firm. "What happened to Dad?"

The woman froze with a slight hiccup. And this time, Takahashi could see her skin paling as clear as day. But her reaction did nothing to dissuade him from his pursuit, so he bottled up all the uncertainty that had been bubbling within him and pressed on.

"Mom."

The woman was clearly struggling to think of something to say. "A...Arata-kun..."

"I wanna know." Takahashi's fists were clenched so tightly that they were quivering with anticipation. "Don't hide behind some lie, Mom. I'm not five anymore. I know butterflies aren't gonna help me find my dad. I only want a straight answer from you. So, who is he? Where is he? What happened to him?!"

"I..." Her eyes started to water, and her lip started to quiver with agony. "He... I..."

Takahashi gritted his teeth. "Mom, just spit it out already!"

To his dismay, the woman flicked her head away, flimsily concealing the tears that were forming in her eyes. "I-I need to start gardening now."

"Mom, I'm not leaving you alone until you answer me. Every time I ask about Dad, you always try to change the subject. Every single time. I don't want anymore lies, Mom! Or deflections! I only want the truth! I'm tired of hearing nothing but lies!"

"There's nothing to say about this." The woman's voice was stiffer and firmer now. "Absolutely nothing. Now...g-go inside the house, Arata-kun. I'm sure you've got homework to do."

"Mom-"

"I'm not gonna tell you again."

"MOM, WHY'RE YOU NOT TELLING ME ANYTHING ABOUT DAD?! WHY ARE YOU LYING TO ME?! DON'T LIE TO ME! I ONLY WANT TO-!"

Takahashi's face abruptly snapped to the side. It took him a few moments for him to process what had just happened, at which point a hot, prickling sensation began to spread through his cheek like oil trickling in the water. Shocked, he glared at his mother, who was lowering her palm. Her eyes were wide and shining with tears.

"Go inside the house, Arata," she growled angrily. "NOW."

Realizing he wouldn't be getting any answers from her, Takahashi clenched one fist while he used the other to clutch his prickly cheek. Tears of disappointment welled up in the corners of his eyes, and a feeling of anger, anger that was like no other, boiled inside him. The redheaded boy ran into the house and slammed the door behind him so hard that a picture beside it was dislodged from the wall and fell to the floor with a shatter.

In spite of the picture, Takahashi did not hear any yelling from his mother; if she was enraged by the shattered, he didn't have time to find out. Instead, he ran over to his room, slammed the door behind him, tore his backpack off, and threw it to the other side of the room with a furious yell.

Then, he collapsed on his bed and began sobbing dejectedly into the sheets.

---

"For my entire life, I never knew who my father was. From the moment I tried asking my mother about his identity or any other useful information, she instantly changed the subject, and that was that. She also never sought out another man to fill up that absent role, leaving my entire life without a father figure. I wish I could say I wasn't as interested in knowing about him as my mother was in talking about him...

"But to say that would be to tell a bold-faced lie."

---

Nishitōkyōchūō General Hospital
One year ago

"Please state your name, the patient you're visiting, and the reason for your visit."

Takahashi gulped and cautiously leaned his head in a little. "Ummm...I'm Arata Takahashi. I, uh, I was born here, a-and I...I'm trying to access my, uh, m-medical records."

The overweight, middle-aged nurse looked up from her computer. At first, her expression was slack and bored, but once she saw the school uniform he was wearing, she attentively scanned him from head to toe. Then, she looked around.

"Where're your parents, Takahashi?" she asked. "Or your legal guardians?"

Takahashi swallowed nervously. "M-My mom won't be coming."

"And your father?"

"He...He's the reason why I want to look at my...my..."

His voice trailed off, but the nurse understood immediately.

"Ohhhh... I'm-I'm sorry, Takahashi, but..." She gazed at his uniform again. "Clearly you're not old enough to gain access to your records on your own. Not without the written and verbal consent of your mom, that is."

"O-Oh..."

Takahashi's shoulders slumped, just as several memories raced through his mind.

The fathers and mothers cheering encouragingly for his team members during a junior baseball game.

The classmates and their fathers he passed while leaving school, just as an after-school Father's Day event was starting.

The father happily congratulating his son for the exemplary test grade the child showed off.

The two young children skipping on ahead enjoying their ice cream while under the watchful eye of their father.

The empty seat that was always next to him while he and his mother attended their yearly parent-teacher conference.

Every day, Takahashi had to be reminded of the gaping hole in his life, the hole that he thought he would fill in a simple, bloodless manner when he was a child. Unfortunately, reality had been cruel to him in the past five years. As he became more aware of the world around him, Takahashi slowly figured out that, no matter what he could do, he could not get his father to return to him. There was no wishing him into existence. There were no butterflies that could guide him.

There was nothing he could do.

"Pardon me for the inconvenience."

With a small, polite bow, Takahashi turned around and walked away from the front desk, his hands in his pockets. But he reached only a few feet when he heard the nurse call out to him.

"Takahashi!"

The redhead's head perked up, and he turned around, hopeful that the nurse had changed her mind.

"Ummmmm, I dunno if you already, uh, knew about this, but..." The nurse shrugged her shoulders. "Might I recommend purchasing a genealogy test?"

Takahashi blinked in surprise. "A...genealogy test?"

"Mm-hm." The woman nodded. "There're no laws barring unsupervised minors from buying one and using one. M-Maybe it'll help you find whoever you're looking for." She grabbed a brochure from the nearby plastic stand and held it out at his direction. "Here. You can find a lot of tests online, but our hospital recommends these. I hope you've got enough money to afford one of these, Takahashi."

Takahashi walked back to the desk, took the brochure from the nurse's hands, and opened it up to read it. Scanning the document's contents, his eyes widened slightly in surprise at the displayed costs.

---

Bedroom of Arata Takahashi
Takahashi Household

Takahashi casually threw the brochure aside and fell backward on his bed. There was NO WAY he could afford any one of those tests off the bat. If he wanted to purchase even the cheapest one, then he would have to siphon money from his mother's bank account, and she would definitely notice. After all, she liked to pay close attention to her money, and she was good at it too. It was the price one had to pay for living in a neighborhood like Nishitōkyō.

For a moment, he pondered purchasing a genealogy test off the Internet for cheap. But then, he remembered how all of the cheap stuff was either used to death or a phony. Paying attention to the reliability of Internet purchases without prior research was another price one had to pay for living in a neighborhood like Nishitōkyō.

So, Takahashi came to the only logical conclusion he had left: he had to work for the purchase.

---

Three days later

"Hasumi-chan."

Takahashi had to restrain himself from squealing with delight. The girl of his dreams, Hasumi Itagaki, turned around and gave him a smile of surprise but also kindness and recognition. It was unbelievable. It was unexpected. It was delightful. In that moment, he felt it was fate that brought the two of them together.

Of course, that was disregarding the simple fact that he overheard Hasumi talking at school about a fresh new vacancy at her father's newspaper distribution business.

"This is-"

"Arata Takahashi," Hasumi interrupted. "Yes, yes, I know him already, Dad."

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Takahashi."

"Takahashi? You mean that kid from the west end of Nishitōkyō?"

"The one and only."

"Wow. I never would've imagined there'd be boonies in that area, but I guess you're right!"

"I know, right?! Look at the state of his uniform! What a mess-"

"Hey, losers!"

"Huh? O-Oh! Itagaki- AGH!"

"Leave him alone, if you know what's good for you."

"Ye-Ye-Yes, Itagaki! O-On it, Itagaki!"

"Hey. You alright, Takahashi?"

The short, stocky, balding man glared at Takahashi, his piercing sight almost causing the teen to recoil. "Really? Anyway, he's taking over Hatanaka's route. Not that he had much of a choice, anyway." He seemed to notice Takahashi's recoiling expression but disregarded it. "He's new to this job, so be sure to show him the ropes..."

The pink-haired girl nodded. "Got it, Dad."

Then, Itagaki narrowed his eyes at Takahashi in suspicion. "And you. Do not make me regret hiring you in the first place. Especially wherever my daughter is concerned. Is that understood?"

"Y-Ye-Yes, sir," Takahashi stammered in response.

"Good. Because if there's one goddamn thing I hate in this goddamn world, it's goddamn pervs eyeballing my goddamn daughter!"

The redhead became rigid. "I-I won't do that, sir!"

"Trust me, Dad," Hasumi added in a supportive tone, "he won't."

Itagaki narrowed his eyes even more. "He goddamn better not."

With that, he turned around and marched off, punctuating every step he took with an audible stomp. Takahashi watched his new employer depart for a few seconds, the hairs on his skin standing upright, before glancing at Hasumi.

"Hey there, Takahashi," the girl greeted. "I'm surprised you're interested in working."

"Why, of course I am!" Takahashi replied, his chest swelling with boastful pride. "Why? Am I not supposed to?"

"I didn't mean it like that. It's just..." Hasumi smirked. "Everyone remembers how often you'd complain whenever you're picked for cleaning duty."

"Oh, yeah?" The redhead chuckled and scratched his cheek with embarrassment. "We-Well..." Then, he shrugged, trying to look as calm as possible. "I thought now was a good time as any to start learning the ropes of hard work."

"Hmmm..." Hasumi's eye twinkled. "Alright. Well, I guess you'd better get to work, then."

"Y-Yeah." But Takahashi kept his eyes trained on the pink-haired girl. "I guess I should."

---

Bedroom of Arata Takahashi
Takahashi Household
Six months later

Takahashi looked at the paycheck in his hand with a smile that radiated the utmost pride. He felt as if he beat the entire system to get to this point. Now, he was one step closer to accomplishing his goal.

With that, he took the brochure he had been given all those months ago and scoured around it for the cheapest options. Once he found a genealogy test kit that satisfied his needs, he turned on his laptop.

---

KNH Broadcasting Center
Shibuya, Tokyo
Three months later

It took the results of the genealogy test many unbearable months to come back. For a long time, Takahashi wondered if he had been scammed by Nishitōkyōchūō General Hospital, and if he wasted his money all for nothing. But just when he was about to give up, his mother announced he had gotten something in the mail.

Takahashi thanked the heavens many, many times for not allowing his mother to be curious about what was in their mail. It took some lying, but he managed to convince the woman it was something else entirely and get her off his back. She would believe anything her precious little Arata-kun would say, after all.

Then, it took many unbearable hours for Takahashi to read the results. When he finally got around to doing so, he stared at the name of his father for the longest time. He never recognized the name. A part of him was hoping the name would be famous, or perhaps even infamous; at least something that would excuse the man's absence in his life. But no. He did not recognize the name at all. It looked just as uneventful as his own name. But he knew the results were legitimate, for they got the names of his mother and late grandparents right, and then some.

Thus, he didn't have a hard time believing it when the results said his father was still alive.

And that was why Takahashi was standing before the headquarters complex of Japan's largest TV broadcasting company. After doing some research based on the results, he narrowed the name down to a few workplaces in the Tokyo area. He had gone to each and every one of those offices, learning more about the employees that they had with that name, even interviewing them in-person. One name after another was scratched off the list, occasionally accompanied by the caring pat on the shoulder or the small bit of encouragement.

Until finally, Takahashi was left with the KNH Broadcasting Center.

"This is it," he thought, his fist clenching tightly with resolve. "The last name on the list. This has to be it."

Like all the other candidates, he had done his research on the KNH employee he was planning on seeing. Apparently, this man lived the proverbial rags-to-riches story, leaving his home in the slums without ever looking back, in order to pursue a life of success and prosperity in the city...and he succeeded. If this man truly was his father, then it was no tiny wonder to Takahashi on why he never contacted him or his mother.

But Takahashi knew today was the day that would all change. With that resolve driving him, the redhead gritted his teeth and walked towards the entrance to the front lobby...

Only for another thought to stop him in his tracks.

"Takahashi? You mean that kid from the west end of Nishitōkyō?"

"The one and only."

"Wow. I never would've imagined there'd be boonies in that area, but I guess you're right!"

"I know, right?! Look at the state of his uniform! What a mess-"

Takahashi looked down at the clothes he was wearing. He tried his best to look presentable, but there was so much that one could do with the set he was wearing. And then, he remembered that, in spite of all the talking he could give to his seeming father, it would change nothing about his domestic life.

"In all of the time I spent searching for my father, I never thought about why he wouldn't be in my life. Not even once. Even after I realized he was alive, that didn't change. But in that moment, while I was standing in front of the KNH building, I recalled my research on him, and I finally realized...there was one thing that I knew about my father, and it was that he obviously wasn't worth her time if she refused to talk about him."

His spirit crumbled away, and without a second thought, Takahashi began walking away from the building. At first, it was an uncertain, aimless walk. Then, after a couple of minutes, his legs burst into a full-on sprint. He ran faster and faster, panting harder and harder, all the while refusing to look over his shoulder, not even after he left the area and reentered the downtown Shibuya area.

"And if he wasn't going to be worth her time, then perhaps he wouldn't be worth mine as well."

Eventually, his body refused to go any further, and Takahashi came to a stop in front of a park with a statue that people were congregated around, taking pictures of. Once he found a bench and sat down on it, the redhead stared blankly into the street and all of the people walking to and from their destination on the other side. His mind became oblivious to all of the sounds and chatter that bombarded his eardrums.

Then, Takahashi sighed angrily and buried his face in his palms.

"Damn it," he thought. "Damn it! What the hell am I even doing? How the hell am I gonna talk to him now?! I'm a damn mess! I'm a nobody, a loser from the boonies, while he...he's somebody. And how am I gonna expect to get his attention if all I'm ever gonna do is remind him of the life he left behind?!"

After a few minutes of rumination, Takahashi lowered his palms, revealing a face full of renewed determination.

"Well then, if I'm going to remind my father of the life he left behind, then I have to work hard to make sure I don't. I'm going to prove to him I'm worthy of his time."

With that, the redhead stood up and walked away from the park, his steps filled with conviction.

"Unfortunately, I didn't know that at the time. I just fell further down the rabbit hole that I had created for myself. I didn't even have a single butterfly that could help guide me out."

"Even after nearly dying, you're prioritizing, what, a mansion and a luxurious lifestyle? You're not even concerned about what just happened? You're not concerned about the fact that you could've been murdered by a crazed, devil-worshiping lunatic, probably one of the worst ways to die?"

"I've known you for a while, Takahashi, long enough to know what's up with you! For the longest time, you've always been complaining about your house and your job and your living. You've always been talking about how desperately you wanted to get rich and get away from your current lifestyle. Back then, I believed it when you said you hated your current life. I mean, I've seen how much of a bad luck magnet you were. ... But now that we're here and you're moaning about the loss of the mansion, it makes me worry about your priorities."

"My life's been a crap-fest, and I would definitely like to go from rags to riches. It's my only way of living a fulfilling life."

"And that is the base of my problem with you, Arata Takahashi. While you immaturely treat me like a pest, I have seen you for what you really are: a selfish, low-class boy who aspires to achieve lofty, ambitious goals that have been and always will be beyond reach."

---

Arata Takahashi?

Takahashi opened his eyes while letting out a deep, soft breath. The first rays of morning sunlight were starting to pierce through the distant, seemingly infinite horizon. Slowly but surely, the buildings surrounding him became illuminated in a bright, golden color. They were soon followed by the baseball field, the track field, and the equipment sheds. He glanced at the windows of the closest building, and though he couldn't see what was inside, he could imagine the classrooms full of idle, oblivious students.

Then, the redhead glanced at a certain spot a few feet beside him. He knew he shouldn't have expected anyone to even be standing there, and yet, deep down, a part of him strongly yearned to see that boy again.

Yuzuru Otonashi.

"I DON'T CARE IF YOU WERE A GODDAMN HERO IN YOUR LIFETIME! YOU...YOU HAD NO RIGHT TO BUTT INTO MY LIFE THE WAY YOU DID! I DON'T CARE IF IT SUCKED AND I WANTED SOMETHING BETTER! I JUST...I JUST WANTED TO LIVE MY LIFE MY WAY, BY MY RULES!"

Takahashi sighed angrily and buried his face in his palms.

"I see now," he thought, just as his memories came flowing back to him like the tide. "I...I see now... I was so foolish..."

His mind flashed with memories of all the people that he either disturbed or ostracized in his pursuit wealth and the high life... Noriya, Masako, Hitomi, Saori, Igarashi, Fuuta, Hasumi, Kimiko, his own mother...

Chouko...

"I was such an idiot, an ambitious jackass... I say I wanted to live my life my way, and yet, my way's always brought me nothing but goddamn trouble. And to think, all of this was because of...of daddy issues... I thought it was more than just that, but...when you boil it down, it's just...that. Daddy issues... Heh. Chouko was right. No matter what I've told myself and others, I'm just a selfish, low-class boy who aspires to achieve lofty, ambitious goals that have been and always will be beyond reach..."

The redhead began chuckling derisively and shaking his head. "Ahhhh, damn it..." He suddenly slammed his fist on the ground, kicking up a small cloud of dust. "Damn it! What the hell am I even doing?!"

With that, Takahashi began sobbing into his dirt-caked palms, ignoring the rough sensation of gravel particles sticking to his skin like glue. He wallowed in his self-hatred like a lost wanderer wading into the murky swamp. Over and over again, he cursed himself for being so childish, shortsighted, and ignorant that he caused all of the people he cared for the most to distance themselves from him, alienating him...just like how his father left him and his mother...or perhaps it'd always been the other way around.

Perhaps his father had gone too far during his pursuit for wealth, lost a vital part of himself in a manner so horrible that his mother finally had enough and left him. Perhaps his father had just been like him: a selfish, low-class boy underneath all of that bravado.

Takahashi subtly nodded in agreement at that last observation. "Yeah... That must've been what happened... If so, then it's no wonder Mom never liked to talk about him..." At that moment, another derisive chuckle emerged from Takahashi's crying and sniffling. "Well, it figures. My father made decisions that have left him alone in life, and now, I'm pretty much in the same situation.

"Every person who hates my guts thinks I'm a goddamn weirdo, every person who still gives a shit about me thinks I'm headed down an idiot's path...and now, my life choices have gotten so bad that Yuzuru fucking Otonashi of all people is now calling the shots in my life!"

At that point, Takahashi's crying had begun to recede, and his trembling body started to relax. As the redhead began to accept the ironic truth of the situation, he could feel his grip on all of reality slacken. The gentle, maternal warmth of the morning sunlight and the fort-like, paternal surroundings of the high school were becoming nothing more than nostalgic, distant sensations to him...

"Ah well, it's either me or the hero who saved a bunch of people during a train crash. Who was I to judge when Otonashi came to me? I had no right. He was the real somebody. Me? I haven't changed a bit. I am still a nobody...a nobody who looked up to somebody...who just turned out to be another nobody. Heh... I guess it's fitting, then, that I just hand over the keys to my life to Otonashi. I suppose it was too late for me to do anything about my life, anyway. I'm sure Otonashi will do a whole lot better..."

Just then, voices started to fill Takahashi's mind. Though they were slightly muddled, the redheaded boy realized it was a conversation...and it was not a part of his memory, but rather something he, or rather Otonashi, was experiencing right now.

"You just don't know when to give up, do you, kid? Hashimoto always did like that about you, Takahashi."

"Perhaps he did. But there's one thing: I'm NOT Takahashi, you bastard!"

"Of course you are, Otonashi. You're living my life right now. You don't have to care anymore, man; you're alive again..."

But as he continued to reflect on what he had just overheard, something else returned to Takahashi's memory...a rather familiar, soothing voice...

"This is your life, Takahashi. Not Otonashi's. He knows it, and it pains him to know how violated you feel in the face of this phenomenon. So please, if you're listening, could you find it in your heart to forgive him?"

"Chouko..."

The words penetrated Takahashi's memory through a thick bank of fog. Upon recalling them, the boy returned to reality, his five senses re-registering the morning environment and the school grounds. It was as if those words had cast a spell upon him, totally petrifying him.

"No," he thought suddenly. "No. It's not too late for me. I'm still here. And if I'm still here, then that means I still have a chance to turn my life around! A chance that Otonashi's gladly showing me the way toward..."

Takahashi lowered his palms, revealing a face full of renewed determination.

"This is my life...not his. It was never his. No one else can decide how to live my life. No one else can call the shots. Not my peers, not my father, not even Otonashi... The only one who decides my next step in life is me. Otonashi lived his life already. He's had his chance, and now it's my turn. I see now."

He stood up and walked towards the track field, his steps filled with conviction.

"Thank you so much, Otonashi, for holding the fort. But I think I can take over from here now."

Once Takahashi reached the steps and started descending to the track field, another thought crossed his mind.

"And...I forgive you, Otonashi."

---

The Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department Headquarters
Chiyoda, Tokyo
Present day

"ARGH!"

Kimiko winced the moment Otonashi and Yamashita collided, their fists blurs as they assailed one another with all of the strength they could muster. But with the cultist now distracted from her, the magenta-haired girl reluctantly ignored what was happening with her friend and simply crawled towards Naomi, who was struggling animatedly against her bonds.

"It's okay, Naomi," Kimiko said, catching the other girl's attention. "I got you."

"O-Onee-chan..." Naomi whimpered fearfully.

Kimiko paused for an infinitesimal second, taken aback by what she heard her younger sister say. However, the nostalgic importance of it re-energized her, and she successfully untied the other teenager. As soon as she did, Naomi sprung from her chair and embraced Kimiko in a tight hug.

"ONEE-CHAAAAAN!" she wailed.

"Naomi!" Kimiko wheezed.

But it was too late. When she looked over her shoulder, she saw Yamashita staring back at her while still grappling with a newly determined Otonashi.

"What the-?!" the cultist snapped, right before Otonashi's flying fist collided into his cheek, knocking him to the floor.

The boy then tried to run for Kimiko and Naomi, but Yamashita quickly recovered, clambered up, wrapped his remaining arm around the boy's neck, and held on tight, manually strangling him. Otonashi tried clawing at his opponent's skin and kicking his shins, but the cultist kept applying the pressure, cutting off his airflow and slowly crushing his windpipe.

"Otonashi..." the fallen Noda croaked helplessly, his arms still clutching his bruised stomach while blood trickled from his mouth.

As for Kimiko and Tamika, they were frozen in place, both girls too transfixed in terror to move and help.

The absence of intervention allowed Yamashita to lean in to Otonashi's ear and furiously whisper, "You thought you could destroy everything Hashimoto-sama worked so hard to achieve? The prosperous future that I prepared myself for for my whole life?! I. Thought. NOT."

With every punctuated word he spoke, the cultist applied the pressure on Otonashi's neck a little more, causing the boy's movements to become sluggish.

"TAKAHASHI!" Kimiko screamed out before she could help herself.

All of a sudden, a newfound surge of energy and adrenaline shot through Otonashi's body like a fast-acting drug. With an extremely loud, defiant yell, he stomped on Yamashita's foot as hard as he could.

"AAAGGGHHH!"

Blinded by the unexpected pain, Yamashita released Otonashi and staggered to the side, his foot limp and useless. At the same time, Tamika came rushing out of the shadows, yelling as loudly as she could while wielding a long power strip, the plugs already disconnected from their sockets.

"TAMIKA-CHAN, WAIT!" Kimiko screamed.

But Tamika didn't hear her oldest sister's shouts, or she didn't listen. Either way, she struck Yamashita in the back of the head with the power strip with so much force that the improvised weapon snapped in half, its plastic material unable to handle the impact. Fortunately, said impact was enough to stun Yamashita into releasing Otonashi; the redheaded teen fell to the floor, coughing and wheezing for air.

Unfortunately, Yamashita was only stunned for a couple of seconds. He shook his head to clear the pain, rubbed the back of his head, and then slowly turned around to face Tamika. The young girl hiccuped in horror and looked at what was left of the power strip; it was too small for her to use now.

"Big mistake, girly..." Yamashita snarled.

Tamika tried to run, but he grabbed her by the neck and lifted her directly off her feet. Like before, he wrapped his arm around her neck and started strangling her with it. And unlike Otonashi, she had no way of exploiting his weak spot and escaping.

"TAMIKA-CHAN!" Naomi shrieked.

"NO, NO, PLEASE!" Kimiko screeched.

"WATCH, NISHIMURA!" Yamashita hollered, his eyes wide with glee. "WATCH AS YOUR SISTER DIES RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU! AND THIS TIME, NO SCREW-UPS!"

Kimiko looked around, distraught, but there was nothing anyone could do to stop Yamashita. Otonashi was still struggling for air, Noda was still indisposed by his injuries, Naomi was still frozen in fear, and God knew Kaisei was in no emotional shape to help out in any way even if he could.

There was no one who could step in now...except for herself, the big sister...

"This is your chance. You have to right this wrong. Go, Kimiko. Go!"

Kimiko scrambled for the silver Beretta 92FS Brigadier Inox, picked it up, and aimed it at the head of her sister's captor. Yamashita stared at her incredulously...before his lips curled into a nasty smirk.

"Ahhhh, that better be a perfect shot, Nishimura!" he taunted. Then, he hid his head behind Naomi's, teasingly rocking it from left to right so he could peek out on occasion.

But the threat of Yamashita using her sister as a human shield did nothing to dissuade Kimiko. A strange calmness crept through her body, allowing it to relax into a natural shooting stance. She aimed the Beretta precisely and peered through its iron sights, her sea-green eye focusing at her target like a bird of prey spotting its prey. Yamashita never noticed this, for he snickered while continuing to strangle Tamika.

"Yeah, I thought s-"

BANG!

Both Yamashita and Tamika fell to the floor, still. At that moment, Kaisei emerged from his hiding place.

"TAMIKA-NEECHAN!"

---

"Come on! We gotta find Fujimaki before he does something stupid!"

"Uhhh, this is Fujimaki we're talking about. Everything he does is stupid."

Naoi led the way as he, Iwasawa (who was still holding the guitar she found in the nurse's office), Hiroto, Chaa (who was carrying a yawning, droopy-eyed Natsumi in his arms), Ōyama, and TK entered another office for yet another police unit. As soon as they entered, Chaa turned around and shot Ōyama a dejected stare.

"Yeah," he replied, "but his reincarnated self is a different story."

The regular-looking boy blinked twice. "I beg your pardon?"

"Were you not listening, Ōyama?" Iwasawa asked. "Whoever Fujimaki got reincarnated into is a total psycho. He tried to kill me and Sekozawa here."

"Well, to be honest..." Ōyama began to examine his surroundings for the umpteenth time. "I was kinda distracted by the sights and sounds-"

"Oh, come on, Ōyama!" Naoi snapped. "Now's not the time for that crap!"

"L-Look, how else am I supposed to react? Oh, I moved on, I passed on from the Afterlife, but now I'm back in the world of the living, with my memories intact?! How'd that even happen?!" Then, the boy paused momentarily. "And...Fujimaki, a killer? Come on, guys, that's so far-fetched, even for him-"

"Trust me," Hiroto interrupted, "you'll be singing a different tune when we come across him."

"That's if we come across him," clarified Chaa. "Look, guys, let's forget about him and find Otonashi and the others! We still have a bunch of nukes to take care of-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, NUKES?!" Ōyama squeaked, his eyes now widening with horror. "H-Hold on, n-no one mentioned a-anything about nukes-"

"Well, there are nukes, Ōyama," Naoi interrupted. "Now, will you please not panic and-?"

"Whaddaya mean 'please don't panic'?! We're dealing with NUKES?! No one said nukes would be part of the equation! I... I don't think anyone in the SSS is even trained for this-"

Naoi grabbed the boy by the shoulders and shook him slightly. "It does not matter! You're with the SSS! You resolved to fight God! You've gone up against Angel, a girl with superhuman powers, many, many times before! You have experience with weapons, experience no other teenager has ever had! You fought the Shadows! And most of all, you conquered the demons that you had in your past lives and moved on. If you're capable of all that, then a few nukes should be nothing to you! Do you understand?!"

Ōyama blinked with incredulity. "W-Well...n-now that you put it that way, Naoi-"

"There's no this way or that way," interrupted Hiroto. "Only the way ahead of us." He clutched one of Ōyama's shoulders. "So get your shit together and get your head back in the game, jack-of-all-trades! We've got a country to save!"

"Ye-Yeah!" The boy's face instantly hardened with resoluteness. "You're right, who-whoever you are! Let's go, guys! Let's save the country!"

"Hardcore!" TK blurted out abruptly. "Let's go!"

With newfound resolve, Ōyama shrugged off Naoi and Hiroto's grasps and marched ahead, with a twirling TK right behind him. Naoi stared after the two boys for a couple of seconds before getting his bearings together and following them, with Chaa close behind. Lastly, Hiroto and Iwasawa trailed behind the group.

"There's no this way or that way," Iwasawa repeated with a grin. "Only the way ahead of us. You thought that up off the bat, newbie? Or was that something someone told you a long time ago?"

"The second part," Hiroto replied, his focus not on Iwasawa as he scanned the office for any threats.

"Oh, really? And who's the wise guy who told you that corny two-liner?"

"The mother of the classmate who was with me...for the first hour after the plane crash."

Iwasawa remembered instantly. "Oh! ...O-Ohhh..." She looked away, her face flushed with regret. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright. To be fair, I thought it sounded corny too. But ya can't really argue with that logic either. Not after what I've been through, that is..." Hiroto looked up at the ceiling lights, but his eyes were glazed over with nostalgia. "I still talk to her and her husband every now and then."

"When was the last time you talked to them?"

"A few months ago."

Iwasawa narrowed her eyes with suspicion. "Define a few months ago."

"...Last Christmas..."

"Last Christmas?! So you haven't talked to them in almost six months?!"

"The mother, Mayako..." Hiroto sighed heavily. "She has cancer. T-Terminal..." He took a deep breath. "The doctors think she's got a few years left."

"Oh, my God!" Iwasawa covered her mouth in horror. "You...You didn't tell me that part, Sekozawa."

"It's...not something I like to dwell on. P-Plus the father, Haruhiro...he still couldn't get over his daughter's death. So, it's pretty much back-to-back tragedies for him. And, naturally, he takes all of his grief and anger out on me. He accused me of being cursed. And...th-that was the end of that, I guess..." He briefly hesitated before blurting out, "I don't think I've ever run out of a hospital faster in my entire life."

Iwasawa bit her lower lip as it quivered. "I'm...I'm so, so sorry, Sekozawa..."

"I-It's alright. S-Sorry for holding out on you." Hiroto scratched his reddening cheek. "It's...not every day you wanna tell a cute girl you might be cursed or something-"

"Hey, you are in the presence of someone else cursed with bad luck. I wouldn't hold that against you. ...But really..." She sighed and closed her eyes. "I...I can't even begin to imagine what that must've felt like-"

"Like someone hit me in the head." Hiroto was now staring straight ahead, his eyes empty. "Hard. With a glass bottle."

Upon hearing those words, a sudden cloud of terror and helplessness began to fill Iwasawa's mind, causing her eyesight to become foggy. Her hands twitched on instinct, as if her muscles were trying to make sure they were still usable. Then, the pink-haired girl realized what was happening and shook her head to recompose herself.

After the mental pain of her memories ebbed away, Iwasawa sighed again and stopped walking. Hiroto noticed, stopped as well, and turned to face her.

"Iwasawa?" he asked worriedly. "Are you okay?"

"My, uh..." The musician hesitated for a moment. "My parents... In my past life, my father was a drunkard and a bastard to boot. He and my mother hated each other's guts. Like, s-so much. They'd yell at each other, fight, throw things at one another...all while I was in the house, sitting in the next room...with my ear to the wall, even with my ears covered..."

"Oh, jeez. I...I'm sorry to hear that..."

Iwasawa continued speaking. "I was lucky my parents never actually dragged me with them into their fights. But I guess in the process, they were so wrapped up in their hate for one another that they barely remembered I existed. I must say in hindsight, loneliness is no preferable alternative to physical abuse."

Hiroto didn't respond to that. Instead, he just allowed Iwasawa to continue speaking.

"Music became my only escape in that life..." Then, her eyes lit up in remembrance, and she looked at Hiroto in curiosity. "Hey, whatever happened to Sad Machine?"

Hiroto simply blinked. "Sad...Machine?"

Iwasawa's hopeful expression fell at the boy's puzzled tone. "Oh. I guess they're not around anymore, then..."

"Honestly, I am not the person you should be asking when it comes to music." He averted his gaze on her, embarrassed. "I avoid music like the plague nowadays. Too much hippity-hoppity pop music out there nowadays-"

"Then you're clearly not looking hard enough, Sekozawa. Wherever there's happy and upbeat music, there's also sad and angry music. Music that can speak to the kids who come from troubled homes and lead unhappy lives. They're two sides of the same coin.

"When I found Sad Machine at the store, I felt like the band, their music, was speaking to me, telling me I wasn't...alone in all of my turmoil and suffering. And so, whenever my parents had one of their arguments, I'd no longer cover my ears and pray that everything would be quiet and okay again. I'd just get of the house and practice making my own music. I'd play some tunes anywhere and everywhere I could, with a guitar I found abandoned in the street."

Iwasawa stared fondly at the guitar she had in her hands. "My dreams had never been so clear back then. I wanted to be a musician, the lead singer of my own band, just like the lead singer of Sad Machine. But, unfortunately, all I'd get for all my singing and practicing is a few generous yen from people passing by."

"What a bunch of assholes," Hiroto spat bitterly.

The girl then chuckled and shrugged. "Ah, well. What can you do? That was in my past life."

"Are you kidding me?! I heard you singing a-and playing that guitar! That was... That was some of the best music I have ever heard! An-And that's coming from someone who just said they avoid music like the plague! You deserved more than what happened to you! You deserved the world! You deserved a fanbase cheering for you and idolizing you and-"

Iwasawa began chuckling. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down there, newbie! It's like I said. Whatever happened, happened. It's all in the past. I've moved on from that now." Then, she focused on ahead. "Which is why we gotta keep moving. I... I'm not supposed to be here. If I am...if I continue to be here, then that means all the progress I've made in the Afterlife was all for nothing."

Hiroto's expression quickly fell at the last couple of sentences. "Oh, yeah... Yes, that's right..." He cleared his throat and started walking again. "Let's get going, then."

Sensing the somber tone that had crept into his voice, Iwasawa looked at him with concern. "Yeah..."

Then, all of a sudden, she took the boy's wrist and tugged at it, stopping him.

"I-Iw-Iwasawa?!" he spluttered while turning towards her. He blushed intensely upon seeing the determined look on her face.

"Before we go, Sekozawa," she said, "I need you to promise me something. Are you listening?"

"Always!" Hiroto blurted out on instinct.

"When this is all over...when we've fixed the problem and I've passed on again...promise me you'll go looking for music that'll speak to you. Don't think music is all just about J-pop and idols. Somewhere out there, there's music that'll speak to you and reach out to you in your time in need. Promise me, Sekozawa. Promise me that you'll go looking for it."

Hiroto looked into Iwasawa's hot-pink eyes and saw that she was serious. The eyes that captivated him were shimmering with emotion, but her pupils were burning fiercely with resolve. In that moment, he knew that she had listened to his life story and that she wanted to do nothing but help him find his way through the inner turmoil that was eating him away on the inside like a parasite.

But even so, her mentioning her chance to pass on again left him feeling utterly hopeless. It was like a sword of durable metal and sheer sharpness had pierced his body, skewered his heart. He couldn't bear to think about the possibility of no longer being able to talk to her like he had just done, like he had done at Hashimoto Manor...

In all of his time in the Global Awareness Club, Hiroto never felt the need to share his life story to his friends. He did not want to burden them with that kind of knowledge. In hindsight, he felt that may have been his own undoing; he may be social around his fellow club members, but he never developed any kind of true connection with them. There was always something between him and them, preventing them from fully understanding him. The same went with his parents; they may have moved on from the fact that he was the sole survivor of a horrible plane crash, but he didn't.

But that obstacle wasn't there when it came to Iwasawa. It never was. And so, he couldn't stomach the thought of losing her, the only person he could ever talk to about his problems...

The only girl that he had ever loved...

Hiroto's face fell again at the sudden thought. "Ah, crap. I'm definitely in love with her."

"Sekozawa."

Hiroto found himself facing Iwasawa again.

"Promise me, Sekozawa," she urged.

The boy sighed sullenly. Then, he mustered the best smile he could possibly manage onto his face and replied, "Alright. I promise."

Iwasawa smiled with relief, and her grip on his wrist softened. "Thank you, Sekozawa. I'm...I'm glad." Then, she let go of him and turned away with a chuckle. "Oh my, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have put that kind of pressure on you-"

"No, no, no!" Hiroto cried. "I-It's alright! Whatever you need to me to do, I'll gladly do it!"

"Heh." Iwasawa shot him a look over her shoulder. "You're quite eager to impress, huh newbie?"

Hiroto's face fell yet again, this time with flat disappointment. "Please stop calling me that..."

However, she was no longer listening to him. Instead, once she turned her head to look in front of her, she cursed.

"Ah, crap. We lost the others." She turned around again and prodded Hiroto on. "Come on, we gotta find them before-"

"AAAAAGGGGGHHHHH!"

The bloodcurdling scream echoed throughout the room, causing the hairs to stand up on Hiroto's body. He and Iwasawa stared ahead, their faces turning pale.

"W-Was that-?" Hiroto asked.

"That was Ōyama!" Iwasawa cried.

The two teenagers didn't need any convincing to move. They dashed across the expansive, desk-filled room, their hearts pounding against their sternums with fear and worry.

---

"Let's go, guys! Let's save the country!"

"Hardcore! Let's go!"

Naoi rolled his eyes as he followed Ōyama and TK across the room. Pretty soon, he began to hear Iwasawa and the new boy's voices echoing. Even though they were trying to keep their voices low, the acoustics of the room seemed to make their voices loud regardless, allowing him to hear everything they said. Of course, he was respectful enough to not listen in on their conversation, but one sardonic thought did cross his mind as Naoi kept his eyes trained on Ōyama and TK.

"Jeez, get a room, you two."

Pretty soon, Ōyama led the group out of the office room and into another hallway. TK stepped out in the middle, dancing and making poses that looked like a ridiculous attempt at karate. Naoi stepped out next, followed by Chaa, who was still holding a sleepy Natsumi in his arms.

"Alright," Ōyama said hesitantly. "So, which way?"

"Well, we gotta think about this," Naoi replied. "If the cultists are here, and this is their final showdown, then their nukes can't be all that far behind."

"And let's not forget," Chaa added, "we're talking about actual nuclear weapons. Not crude dirty bombs or anything like that."

"Damn!" TK cried. "Those cultists are the ones who're dirty as hell!"

"So they are handling missiles," concluded Ōyama. "That..." He suddenly began to sweat profusely. "That doesn't make things a whole lot easier for me-"

"Actually...it does." Naoi looked at Ōyama and TK, his eyes gleaming brightly. "If you want to detonate a nuclear missile, a military-grade weapon, in the middle of a populated area, how do you do that within a moment's notice, without even being noticed, and without any room for error?"

Ōyama thought long and hard about it. "Yooooouuuuu..."

His voice trailed off, prompting Naoi to reply, "You transport it by air!"

"Transport it by air!" The youthful boy snapped his fingers in delight. "Yeah, that was what I was gonna say! Transport it by air!"

"Yeah, sure," Chaa replied sardonically.

Then, Ōyama's stare became blank. "Wait...how exactly are they gonna carry it in the air?"

"Dude!" Naoi held out his arms in a wide gesture. "Look all around you! We're in a police station! And every major police station's gotta have a helipad on it!"

"A helipad..." Finally, the boy's eyes widened in understanding. "Oh crap, you're right! We gotta go up, then!"

"Then let's blast off, y'all!" TK proclaimed while pointing off somewhere.

"TK," Naoi deadpanned exasperatedly, "I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I think you-"

"No, Naoi!" Ōyama interrupted, his eyes focused on the direction TK was pointing down at. "TK just found our way up to the helipad!"

Naoi followed the direction TK's index finger was pointing at, and he finally noticed the sign reading 'STAIRS'.

"Oh." He removed his Mao cap, sheepishly rubbed his hair, and put the cap back on. "My bad, TK. Carry on."

TK led the way, with Ōyama enthusiastically following him. As for Naoi, he was about to follow the two of them when he didn't hear footsteps coming from Chaa. He turned and saw the older adolescent cradling Natsumi in his arms; the young girl had now fallen asleep.

"Chaa?" he asked. "You coming?"

"I dunno, man..." Chaa replied as he continued staring at Natsumi's soft face. "Natsumi-chan... She...She's already come this far, and without her brother. Now, we're gonna go up against a bunch of guys hiding behind some nukes, and...and I know she's waaaaay too young for this." He looked at Naoi. "Naoi, I can't let her get any more involved than she already has been."

"Th-Then take her back to where we found her-"

"But I can't just leave her alone either! And what if we fail?! What if we mess up?! What if the nukes somehow blow up?! I can't possibly have her near that-"

Naoi sighed and shook his head. "Look, Chaa, I know you care about this girl...but we really don't have any other choice here. If we fuck this up, it will not matter at this point. The only way she'll survive that is if she's out of Tokyo altogether, and I don't think we'll have the time to get her out of the city."

"Then..." Chaa's grip on Natsumi tightened protectively. "I don't want her to die alone. Nor without her brother."

Naoi blinked in shock. "So...you're leaving us?"

Chaa's lips were pursed with ambivalence. "I'm so sorry, man, but...I gotta go find her brother."

"Dude-" Naoi began.

"Look, I know who Natsumi-chan's brother is. And when I find him, I'll leave her with him and come back to you. You're going to go to the helipad, right?"

"Well, yeah, but-"

"Then I'll meet up with you guys there! It's up, so there's no way I'm getting lost!" Then, Chaa noticed the reluctant look in Naoi's eyes. "Dude, I have to do this. This girl's gotten so attached to me that I can't possibly-"

"She didn't get attached to you," Naoi interrupted suddenly. "She got attached to your reincarnated self. Chazawa."

Chaa frowned. "Yeah, well, it will not matter at this point, am I right?"

The Mao cap-wearing boy took a deep breath and shook his head softly. "Alright... Alright, fine. You go do what you gotta do, Chaa. But make it as quick as possible! We don't know what we might find once we get up to the helipad, and we're gonna need all the hands we can get!"

Chaa nodded in approval and began running away, Natsumi's legs bobbing up and down with each step he took.

"I promise, Naoi!" he called. "I'll make this quick! I'll meet ya at the helipad!"

Naoi opened his mouth and tried to say something, but his voice quickly got caught in his throat. Before he could muster the courage to speak up, it was too late, for Chaa had rounded a corner and disappeared. Left alone in the middle of the hallway, Naoi simply closed his mouth and sighed.

Then, after a couple of minutes or so, he turned around...

"AAAAAGGGGGHHHHH!"

The bloodcurdling scream echoed throughout the room, causing Naoi to freeze in horror.

"Oh, no," he whispered to himself. "Ōyama."

---

As soon as he and TK broke off from Naoi, Chaa, and Natsumi, Ōyama ran up to the door underneath the 'STAIRS' sign. He grabbed the doorknob, turned it, and swung the door open, revealing a dark, gloomy stairwell of gray concrete. With a hesitant gulp, Ōyama stepped into the dark room and looked up from underneath, only to be stunned by the stairwell's great height and the squarish shape the stairs took.

The boy soon heard a whistle beside him. "Now that's a tall staircase if I didn't see one," TK commented beside him.

Ōyama gave the blond, English-speaking boy a side-glance. "Well, it's not like we can use the elevators. The cultists may see us coming."

All of a sudden, TK went into a pose that was a cross between karate and some dance move.

"Plus the plot demands it!" he blurted out.

...

"Right." Ōyama looked up at the stairwell again. "Well, here goes nothing. I hope my reincarnated self does a lot of good exercise..."

He began ascending the stairwell at a breakneck pace, with TK keeping up behind him while occasionally dancing out of nowhere. However, the two reached only a couple of floors when Ōyama stopped in his tracks, TK nearly bumping right into him in the process.

"Yo!" TK cried. "Whazzup, my man?!"

But Ōyama stared on ahead with incredulity. "Fujimaki?"

The dark-haired delinquent was slumped against the corner of the stairwell, next to the doorway to the current floor. His head was dangling forward, apparently lifeless. There were bloodstains adorning his clothes.

"Whoever Fujimaki got reincarnated into is a total psycho. He tried to kill me and Sekozawa here."

Ōyama shook his head and stepped towards Fujimaki's form. "No. No way. Fujimaki wouldn't be a killer. I mean, he's too dumb for that."

The young boy knelt beside Fujimaki and experimentally poked him in his right shoulder, but he got no reaction from the boy. He poked the clothed skin again, harder this time. When this didn't get any reaction from him either, Ōyama gently took Fujimaki's shoulder and shook it.

"Hey, Fujimaki!" he said in a hushed whisper. "It's me, Ōyama! Hey, get up!"

The only thing the shaking did was bob the boy's head from left to right. Ōyama promptly stopped shaking his friend and tightened his lips. At the same time, TK approached him and patted the other boy's shoulder.

"Yo, my dude," the blond boy said.

Ōyama glared up at him with slight annoyance. "What is it, TK?!"

But then, he realized TK was focused on the wall surrounding them. The boy followed his other friend's gaze and finally noticed what he had been looking at: a considerable-sized blood spatter on the wall, large enough to encompass a whole face. Ōyama looked at Fujimaki again and slowly, carefully lifted the unconscious boy's head. As soon as he saw the face of his friend, he gasped in concern.

It was completely caked in semidried blood, with his nose broken and a large cut in his forehead.

"Oh, my God!" Ōyama dropped his friend's head and covered his mouth in horror. "Fujimaki!"

Even TK's reaction was subdued. "Man, that shit must've been intense..."

Ōyama's mind began to race. He stood back up, looked up at the stairwell again, and then turned back to Fujimaki.

"T-TK, get Fujimaki's legs!" he cried. "I got his arms!"

"Say what?!" TK exclaimed.

"We're taking him with us! He's just unconscious; he has to be! Go, grab his legs!"

TK quickly obeyed the other boy's command. He grabbed Fujimaki's legs and started dragging him away from the corner, giving Ōyama enough room to grab his arms. He got behind the dark-haired boy and prepared slink his arms underneath the other boy's armpits when, all of a sudden, Fujimaki's eyes flew open, revealing bloodshot, beady pupils.

Ōyama gasped, then beamed with relief a second later. "Fujimaki! You're...You're alright!"

Fujimaki looked up at the youthful-looking boy. Then, his lips curled into a malevolent smirk.

"I damn sure am."

Then, he kicked TK in the face. The blond boy staggered away, clutching his nose and mouth. Stunned by the attack, he was unable to see the steps in front of him, and Ōyama gasped as he watched his friend fall down the stairwell.

"TK!" he cried shrilly. Then, he whipped his head towards Fujimaki, just in time to see him pouncing at him like a wildcat ambushing its prey. "AAAAAGGGGGHHHHH!"

Fujimaki tackled Ōyama to the floor, grabbed his neck, and began squeezing hard. The younger boy gasped and gagged in desperation for oxygen. He tried struggling, but Fujimaki was pressing the weight of his entire body down on his.

"F-Fuji...maki..." Ōyama croaked helplessly. Deep down inside, he was trying desperately to appeal to his friend from the Afterlife. "Don't you...rem...remember me...? It's me...Ōyama..."

That seemed to spark something lurking deep within Fujimaki's mind...or rather, the mind of Fujimaki's reincarnated self. Ōyama could feel the boy's grip on his neck relaxing, then tightening again, then relaxing again, and then tightening yet again, as if he was undecided if he wanted to got through with taking his life or not.

Then, all of a sudden, Fujimaki screwed his eyes shut and hollered, "NO!"

A fresh flow of oxygen blossomed through Ōyama's constricted nostrils. The young boy let out a loud, wheezing gasp and began coughing violently, his lungs greedily embracing the oxygen that was filling them, as if they had just learned how to breathe again.

But Ōyama didn't have any time to rejoice the newfound air. At the corner of his blurring eyes, he saw Fujimaki grabbing his own shirt, tugging at it, threatening to tear it open...

And then, the beady-eyed, dark-haired boy ran towards the railing and leaped over it, with no room for any hesitation.

"FUJIMAKI!"

Ōyama dove for his friend, propelled by a rush of adrenaline. He grabbed Fujimaki's wrist in the nick of time, cutting off his fall, but the younger boy collided into the railing as a result.

"AGH!" Then, Fujimaki's body weight caught up with Ōyama, and he struggled to hold onto him with one arm. "Fujimaki! Don't worry, Fujimaki, I gotcha!"

He carefully peered over the railing, only to be shocked by the face Fujimaki was giving him. It was filled with kindness and gentleness, traits that were completely uncharacteristic to the Fujimaki he knew in the Afterlife. Then, Fujimaki gave him a weak, hollow chuckle.

"Surprised, kid?" he asked, sounding as if he and Ōyama were engaged in a casual conversation. "Bet you didn't see that one coming."

---

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---

A/N: And that concludes this long-awaited chapter!

So we finally learn more about Takahashi, his backstory, and why exactly he was so ambitious about becoming rich in the first place. Fortunately, he has realized the folly of his life decisions and is willing to make a change for the better, which could definitely change the tide of the climactic final battle.

Meanwhile, Kimiko finally gets her own gun, Hiroto realizes he's fallen for Iwasawa, Chaa realizes he's found someone to care for, and Ōyama's friendship with Fujimaki has been put to the test, which leads to a literal cliffhanger! Whatever will happen next?! Find out in the next chapter!

Now, I'd like to thank the following for reviewing:

-Anime-ted Life116:

1) I do recommend fixing that error. It'll help future readers understand the flow of your story better, if that's what you want out of them.

2) Please do, when you have the time and energy, of course. ;)

3) Yeah, such a comical existence would definitely become depressing eventually, what with its monotonous nature.

4) Don't worry. The only way this fic goes bye-bye is if this entire site goes bye-bye. And even then, I have a backup of this story over at Archive Of Our Own (AO3), a newer fanfiction site. So regardless of what happens here, there'll always be an imprint of this fic elsewhere. Just Google it and you'll find it.

5) You're so welcome. :D :D :D

6) "Wrong Way to Use Healing Magic", huh? I'll be sure to check it out when I have the chance.

-BallisticZebra: Over 24 hours, give or take. Yeah, I know, I need to work on making this fic's timeline clearer for any and all of the uninitiated.

-Average AB Fan (guest reviewer):

1) I won't say much, but trust me when I say you just can't have a classic "Angel Beats!" story without the waterworks. ;)

2) I know the final chapter count was fluctuating. But as I said, there's two more chapters to go, and then the epilogue. :D

-SurvivalDash:

1) You submitted your review twice, by the way. I appreciate the little review boost, but please, one click of the "Submit" button is good enough.

2) I'm glad you liked the Otonashi/Kanade drama. I know, very sappy and tear-jerky. XP

3) Don't worry, you'll see more moments between the two characters in the next chapter.

4) Thanks! I think so too, but I don't think the story really is all that perfect. In hindsight, I think I could've written a few sequences better, removed a few unnecessary sequences too. I was originally hoping this fic would have 26 chapters, but clearly I dawdled around a bit too much with the plotline. :( Thanks, though!

-Fanficlover909925: Please, could you be a lot more specific in your next review? Which shipping are you referring to? What exactly did you like about the chapter? What did you not like? Do you have any questions or observations that you might want to share with me? Please do not just gush about your favorite shipping (without even identifying it, no less), because it doesn't help me figure out if there's anything I have to improve in my writing. Sorry.

Well, hope you enjoyed this overdue chapter! TheCartoonFanatic01 is out. PEACE!