It was only after he noticed his little guy acting down there that Keima Katsuragi realized he'd made a grave miscalculation.
Everything should have been prepared, the scene with Hakua's little conjurations beating him up in the park, and then he'd wait for Mio to come, and then he'd signal for Hakua to stop, and then he'd do his heroic stand.
But he had made the mistake th previous day, of not doing - that.
And now he suffered an intense feeling, familiar, but horrid nonetheless. It was as if something was crawling up and down his body.
Do you remember this pain?
It was all supposed to look good, look authentic. Though Hakua had raised objections about the scene, he had still prevailed, citing his god-like status as well.
Solongago niisama
He wondered if Hakua wasn't just taking advantage of this moment to really beat up on him using her conjurations, and he would certainly not put it past the she-devil to do that.
He wanted to signal her to stop Where was Mio? But then he remembered telling Hakua to only let up when Aoyama had spotted the ornament, and it looked like-
Something broke, and he felt with a scared intuition the bones of his wrist crack under the simulacrum's pressure. She-devil! He pleaded to his amulet. It's going too far! Lets abort! He wanted her to hear. He felt pain lance and radiate across his arm, excruciating him, and
excitingghimfurther
A hundred other bones broke in that moment, and something else broke as well.
OooOoOoOoO
Sometimes Keima would dream about that day, as he watched the sea roll and churn in the darkness below him.
He knows it is a dream, just like this life of his is a dream.
In that dream, he is a God, who transcended time and space to capture a thousand girls.
In that dream, he meets a little devil, and they argue about this and that. At times, they cross over to the other side and plot.
In that dream, he falls in love, briefly with a girl who falls in love with him.
One detail he always tries to recall in lucidity: did he leave the girl, or did the girl leave him?
Whatever happened to the little devil?
He only remembers waking one day on top of a pile of bodies, in the midst of a ruined place.
He remembers seeing a girl's body as he rushed to relieve his stomach, to free himself from the pungent smell of burnt flesh and fresh blood.
He remembers screams, a heated exchange, and a life is again lost.
He remembers nothing else.
But he would dream, and each time he noted every detail, every action, examining each from every angle.
And he would try to come to a conclusion.
It is the only pastime that occupies his life.
Tomorrow, he will arrive at a new place. He will disembark, and he shall find his way on sure land once more.
Vivian's Note: R n' R for our poor distracted writer lololol