If given the chance to make a difference by his own hands, Lowell would always take it, no matter how long and arduous the road ahead was. It’s always been an uphill battle from the start for him, so it wasn’t anything he wasn’t used to.

It was because of said experience that he knew how desperately he needed a break and simply rest - that went for him just as much as everyone else here. Being forced to take part in a second mutual killing game, witnessing the deaths of other people all over again… They were all physically and mentally scarred. It was a long battle against absurd odds, but in the end, they have prevailed again–

Though the battle wasn’t entirely over yet; because they chose to continue it until they were able to grasp true victory with their own hands. Until they were able to save those who were deemed unable to be saved. Until they would make the impossible possible.

This was their fight and Lowell would do everything within his power to be triumph over fate again.

But for now, it was time for farewells.

(Good thing it wasn’t a permanent one or else he knew that he wouldn’t have been able to hold any tears back.)

“Right, no need t’ get sentimental now. I’ll be seein’ y’all soon ‘nough - or at least, most of ya, anyway. Just make sure ya take care of yerselves first, ‘cause we’ll be needin’ all that energy to make this whole thing work! So, see ya.”

While he was content with such a simple goodbye for most here, there was one person in particular that he needed to properly see off–

And it seemed like said best friend had the same thoughts as him.

Lowell chuckled and said his piece after she was done:”Heh, don’tcha worry, I’ll take care of myself jus’ fine. If anythin’, I shoulda return those words t’ ya - yer prone t’ overwork yerself, so ya better take a proper breather too, yeah?” He gently ruffled her hair as he spoke the next words:”Ya ever need help, ya know ya can call fer me, t’. And… ‘s my line, really. Thanks, I mean. Wouldn’t know where I’d be if it weren’t for ya, so… despite everythin’, ‘m really glad that we were able t’ meet.”

A genuine smile spread across his features and the next words that left his mouth were spoken in sincerity without even a hint of embarrassment:

”I love ya, Ada. Yer my best friend!”

I.

Death was blissful for Itoji Miyagi.

The bang of the gunshot to his neck was nothing compared to the resolving note, the final chord Itoji played before dying a somewhat gruesome, if not comparatively mundane death. The warmth of blood travelling down his neck-- a phantom sensation more than anything else-- was more like a warm hug, an embrace from behind, reminding him that, despite everything, he did live. He lived for as long and as well as he could, well enough to be able to bleed over what he loved most.

The light was blinding but it also felt cleansing, washing away all the sins he had committed in this life-- maybe cleansing enough to be absolved of them. Had he done enough, he wondered, until the very end? Was he good enough in this life? The thought always plagued him, every decision he made in this crisis making him wonder if he deserved what came next. Well, whatever the case may be, he was about to find out. 

And so the light came, and it came, and it had not stopped coming. Itoji Miyagi wakes up staring at a light rather than… being in the light. That couldn’t be right, could it? He looks up, realizing that he’s lying down in some sort of pod, his own breath fogging up the glass above him. The pod opens, and suddenly the afterlife looks a lot like a laboratory. Slowly, hesitantly, he sits up, taking in the room around him. There’s more pods, and more people, is that--

The sigh is familiar and unfamiliar with the relief that touches it; a noise of someone trying to sound exasperated but succeeding only in appearing to release a breath that was being held. It’s short, like the footsteps that follow. It’s short, like the amount of time Itoji gets to process before arms wrap around his shoulders.

A gentle motion, meant not to jar him too much. The hand that rests on top of his head is gentle, too. Mingzhu hugs him, chuckling softly.

“Good morning, Itoji. You really did sleep in a bit too much, dear.”

A quick “Ah-?” escapes Itoji as he’s hugged, still taking in everything going on. Of course the voice, and the gesture, are familiar. Too familiar. And, with everything that’s happened so far, he assumes the worst—

“Mingzhu-san? Oh, no, they… they got you too…?!” His eyes begin to water.

Another laugh, this one punctuated by a pat to his head. “Now, now. Surely you don’t think me that careless as to go and do something silly like die. Fufu, I suppose it’s something of a long story -- in fact, you did us something of a favour...” That explanation could come in a moment. For now…

“You are not dead. None of us are.”

“I— None of us are—“ No, Itoji Miyagi had definitely died. There’s even a faint sharpness on the back of his neck, a warmth, the embrace of death still lingering around him… Or maybe he’s mistaken it for Mingzhu’s embrace. Mingzhu, who is most certainly alive, embracing Itoji, who most certainly died… Could it really be? Could he really…

Before he can stop it, the tears start running down his cheeks, and his mouth contorts to stop him from crying out in joy. He lets out the faintest of whimpers as he gently pushes Mingzhu off of him to wipe his tears— “Y-Your clothes, I-I don’t want to cry on your clothes”— and start looking around the room, recognizing the people around him, both those he had watch die and those he didn’t. 

Against all odds, Itoji Miyagi had cheated death twice.

“Oh, Mingzhu-san… What… How…” He does a scan of the room again. “Hades-san… I-I have to apologize to…”

Mingzhu leans back, giving Itoji the space to look at the room lined with pods that had become far too familiar to them; they can barely remember the unease at seeing it for the first time. And--

They give him a wry smile.

“Ahh, well… funny you should mention that. Regarding that favour you did us…”

He certainly had missed a lot, hadn’t he?

II.

For trapping him in a killing game for Lorde knows how long, Itoji is treated quite well by the Valhalla staff.

It takes a few days for everything to sink in-- the fact that he had died and yet is living now. He’s caught up on everything that he had missed-- killing the mastermind was the most shocking of it all, of course-- and he can’t believe that, despite the circumstances, the nineteen (or, eighteen, he supposes-- who would’ve thought Tomio to be a serial killer?) of them had survived two killing games. It feels selfish, almost, that he was able to cheat death twice.

But he can’t help but feel that this wasn’t an accident. For the first time since his first mutual killing game, he could picture himself living beyond tomorrow, beyond the next week. The future feels tangible, as if he could mold it with just one hand, even if the other’s been tied around his back. For the first time, maybe in his life, Itoji was excited at the prospect of living. And yet, there’s a pit in his chest that still hasn’t been filled, a grief that will stay with him forever… 

It’s another day of looking out the window into the futuristic world he’s found himself in from his accommodated room when a Valhalla staff member walks into his room, an oddly grim look on their face. They had been coming in periodically to give him updates-- health updates, how travelling back would ultimately work. It’s nothing out of the blue, but for whatever reason, they seem to approach Itoji with hesitation.

“Miyagi-san, I have an update on your home rift,” they say. Itoji turns his attention to them, cocking his head in curiosity. “I… I’m not quite else sure how to say this, but… Your home rift no longer exists.”

“It… It no longer exists?” Itoji repeats.

“It seems… the passage of time on your home rift was much more accelerated than we expected. Its universe has died, in simple terms.” They pause, looking down at their feet as they cement what Itoji has already realized. “There… There is no rift for you to go back to. I am so sorry.”

Itoji waits, sitting patiently, waiting for his heart to drop. For the sadness to hit him all at once, the same way it did when he realized Riho was dying, when he realized he had killed Senka, when he realized he had killed Hades-- but it doesn’t. He finds tears welling up in his eyes again, yet, despite it all, he can’t help but… smile. 

He imagines a world-- perhaps this futuristic one he’s found himself in-- where he can live again. It feels like so long ago, and perhaps now it really has, since he was able to do exactly what he wanted. His heart begins to beat faster, and he feels another embrace rush across his whole body-- relief. The tears stream down his face as it all sinks in. There was no death on the horizon, no more despair. No more apocalypse to fight in, no more people depending on him to save the world… 

In a way, this is (almost) everything he’s ever wanted.

“Miyagi-san?” the staffer repeats. “Are you alright?”

“I-I,” he stutters, “I… I think I’m going to be okay,” he says. 

As he’s wiping his tears, the door whips open. He hears panting, and, looking up through teary eyes, he sees a familiar woman. Long shiny red hair, familiarly warm red eyes, tearing up exactly in the same way he is. When he opens his mouth to speak, she does so at the same time, and their voices melt together in the same perfect harmony.

“Ito-chan,” she says.

“Ri-chan,” he says.

Riho rushes towards him, arms wrapping each other, and in an instant, Itoji Miyagi is whole again. 

III.

Muscle memory is a beautiful thing.

His fingers glide over the keys with grace, not a second thought taken to the notes being played. He hears, and he reacts, just as an accompanist should. 

The violin sounds exactly how he remembers it to sound, and the keys he plays complement them perfectly. 

His eyes closed, he doesn’t need to see to know that all of this isn’t just in his head-- that he isn’t alone anymore. 

[ ♪ ♪ ♪ ]

Kiyoko’s been sleeping for a long time. Dreams and dreams are all she sees and she basks in it, content with gentleness it carries.

She dreams of her mother brushing her hair and commenting on how easily it knots and although Kiyoko knows that putting ribbons in it wouldn’t be good (she does it anyway). She dreams of moving in with her aunt and uncle and her cousin Senka, and jumping around with joy because it’s the first time she’s had a room of her own. She dreams of escaping a terrifying game of death and clinging to her loved ones dearly, crying because she thought she’d never see them again. In her dream, she sees so many familiar face’s - Umi, Shuuya, Hansuke, Daisuke, Satoru, Machiko, Utamaro…

She hopes they’re all doing well. 

Shuuya, too, Shuuya especially, she hopes, is awake and well. If robots dream of electric sheep, then Kiyokos dream of a place where there is peace. But, even though dreams were well and good but excessive sleeping is never a good thing. 

When the others finally get her to wake up (and all the others too), she’s confused and pat pat pats her face. She wasn’t still dreaming, right?

(She jokes around and laughs. How funny it seems a lot of people have changed in this amount of time. She’s glad to see they all persisted.)

She doesn't expect to see him and there's no sadness or bitterness in this thought as she gazes out at the group of people who've brought her back to reality, out of this dream, laughing and smiling widely as she stumbles forward like a newborn sheep. There was a lot to catch up on and her mind latches onto that as a distraction.

He should be at home, at his own rift confronting what he's left behind. She wanted him to! She encouraged him! And she still has to move forward, return home and tell her friends about everything that's happened. Home is where the heart is and Kiyoko is someone who wore her heart proudly on her sleeve. But what do you do when your heart is also made of glass? There's pang in her chest as she tries to block out these thoughts and reaches to her wrist for a marble hair tie that is no longer there —

It's a rueful smile.

She hopes he will remember her.

Kiyoko has neither the skill to help with furthering Valhalla’s research or the strong drive to hop around the different rifts. Honestly, she was still probably taking in the details of just how they were all brought back - what do you mean they fought monsters that resembled the dead people ? VIDEO GAME RIFTS WERE REAL? - and wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep again. But only for a little bit this time.

Before that though, she only asks them all one question. She didn’t have the capacity to keep up with everything but….

“He’s back home now, right?”

It’s all right. 

That’s all that really mattered to her.

...

The sun was warm against her skin and she tightened her hold on her bag when she stumbled a little, breath coming out in a harsh pant. Comfortable silence embraced her, just a little further away from the bustling streets of the city, and the fragrance of flowers calmed her even more than all the comfort afforded to her by knowing that she was able to come home safely and took up a part-time job as florist. It was the place she loved the most. This small, secluded place in Tokyo that she had stumbled upon during her days walking around was the grounding that she needed. 

Her optimism, that determination to continue living and enjoying life no matter what sucker punches it throws at her, is what made her transition from not just 1 but 2 mutual killing games a little easier. There was sadness, too, but… she still smiled anyways.

She rushed down the steps, a little late like usual, and even though the harsh sun was beaming down hard on her face, she squinted up at the sky and shook her fists at it. 

And then

She stumbles as she looks over to the side

And walking up along the steps in the shade

She grabs onto the rails to steady herself, standing higher up on the tip toes of her boots, calling out to the person with blonde hair, headphones (she must admit, although she made fun of his black hair before, she strangely missed it) --

(There’s a tightness in her chest.) --

“Excuse me but --!!” 

She starts waving her arm around to try to get his attention. Even with a heart on her sleeve made of glass, that’s what makes her strong. Emotions are what make you strong and Kiyoko readily accepted them. So, even though her mind was racing at a million miles per hour, she yells out and smiles --

‘Obviously, you know how the endings of these things always play out. You die, we have some shitty group hug moment where we lie and say we’ll never forget each other, then we leave.’

In the end, there’s not even that. No tender moment, not even so much as a goodbye from many of the survivors. Though maybe that, in itself, is a blessing—no heartfelt farewell means there’s nothing for Shuuya to ruin with his insincere smile and false promises to visit. It goes without being said that he will never see any of his fellow survivors ever again, save for Tsurugi and hopefully Kiyoko, all of them sharing a home world.

He’ll keep his watch, so long as Kiyoko’s fate is still uncertain, but the moment she wakes up, he’ll destroy it. He has no desire to hop from rift to rift, pretending to be a hero, nor does he flatter himself with the belief that any of his fellow survivors would really want him along. He’d spent the killing game guarded, not allowing them close to him, and that had worked out just fine. He was smart enough not to get hurt again.

The others can have their adventures. All he wants is for the rest of his life to be peaceful, and spent with the man he loves.

So without any of his characteristic drama, Shuuya Murakami selects the proper rift coordinates, and goes home.

[ ♪♪♪ ]

When he re-enters his own world, it is immediately obvious that while Shuuya might have spent two months in Valhalla, it has been much longer here. When he disappeared, the city had been in the final few weeks of winter, on the cusp of spring’s first thaw. Now, it was deep midwinter once again—at least a year has passed, and his heart aches as he tries to imagine just how long he’s been gone; as he wonders if anyone is looking for him still.

He stares down at the letters in his hands, clumsily crumpled in sweaty, shaking fists, and realizes—he has no need for them now. He folds them in half, then in half again, allowing himself just a moment of hesitation before he tears them apart, those scribblings of a man equally afraid of death and continuing to live with the stain of despair, letting the breeze catch and carry away the pieces.

It’s not that Shuuya isn’t still scared. It’s not that he doesn’t still feel the flare of something destructive, when the embers of despair smoldering inside him are stirred briefly back to life. It’s not that he doesn’t hesitate as he reaches for the coffee shop door, the last barrier between him and the life he’s never felt he deserves, that he’s tried to destroy before it can be taken from him.

The despair and the desperate fear don’t disappear, just because he’s chosen to stop ignoring them, just because he’s decided to face his demons—because no matter how much he grows, Shuuya cannot escape his beginnings as a seed planted in rotten soil, and life isn’t something anyone can ever really start over from scratch.

Maybe Shuuya’s not strong enough to dig himself free, to pull himself up by the roots and plant himself somewhere better, not on his own: but he doesn’t have to do this all by himself. Shuuya’s always had someone right beside him, willing to shoulder the burdens he doesn’t have the strength to bear. He’ll have the other survivors of the City of Tsukishima mutual killing game, too. He’s never had to do this all by himself. If only it hadn’t taken five years and another mutual killing game for him to realize it.

In those letters that are now scattered to the wind, he had written, I want to be the kind of person you can welcome home, when this is all over, and though Shuuya is not yet the person he wants to be, he knows Hansuke will always, always welcome him home.

Nothing’s fixed, not yet, but he’s home, alive, and ready to try again.

That has to count for something. For everything, maybe.

Shuuya pushes open the door of the coffee shop, the muted chime of the bell signaling the arrival of a customer, prompting the man behind the counter to look up and lock eyes with him.

Quietly, haltingly, the sound inadequate for all of what lay between them, Shuuya whispers—

“Hey, Han-chan.”

The last time Mingzhu was standing among a group of survivors, who had lost and watched people die for weeks on end - they had watched people make friends and fall in love and lose it all, and resolved that it wouldn’t be them. They wouldn’t be that foolish. They would keep their fellow survivors at arms length, so when they, too, died, it wouldn’t mean anything to them.

When they woke up here, all they could tiredly think was how annoying it would be to have to do it all again. Pretending to like people, pretending to put up with them, smiling pleasantly and waiting with thinly veiled patience for them to die so they'd have one less person to pretend to give a shit about. For more people to lose those they care about, and for Mingzhu to, once again, survive.

But --

[ ♪♪♪ ]

Looking at the people around them, as the hum of the first conversations any of them have ever shared in their real bodies fills the room, they don't manage to regret their failure.

They should, obviously. Objectively, Mingzhu is terrible at picking friends. The sole realization of a second murder game should be the assurance of I was right the first time. I was right to keep them away. I won’t make that mistake again.

It wasn't a complete failure. There were people in this room, both sleeping and awake, that they could never speak to again without a care. And of those remaining, only a few they would call a friend -- and of that, only one they completely trust. But, despite that...

For the first time in their life, Mingzhu Jia had memories that were precious. Memories they won’t sacrifice for anything.

The smile on their lips is the same one they’ve caught themself with more and more; the act of a smile being genuine is foreign and wonderful. It rises and remains steady as their free hand reaches out to their side and finds CC’s. They wouldn’t embarrass her with more than that in front of everyone; they hoped that, as if had before, their hands joined together voiced what they didn’t say. She’s always been good at understanding what they’re thinking

Still, it doesn’t seem right to leave without saying anything to the room at large. 

“You have all generously voiced your recognition of my lack of knowledge of technology…”

A playful scoff at the audacity.

“But if you need to convince someone to help, I will do all I can to assist. What am I here for, if not to get others to listen to us? Ah, I have someone in mind from my home, as well, should you need the added help in the realm of… programming. I can easily bring her in. You need only say the word. With all of that said!”

Their weight shifts. A slight bounce to their heels, in a way the myriad of fake burns and injuries on their mannequin body hadn’t allowed for a while.

“Fufu. I have the feeling quite a few of us will be making our way back here soon enough. Perhaps the issue may be convincing half of you not to overwork yourselves, hm? -- That is not my problem, my dears! Would hate to leave the others to wait too long! Be sure to call me when you wake Itoji. Other than that, you are free to do as you please. Not my responsibility!”

Their index finger waves to punctuate the last few words. … So they say, but the three with the best ability to wake up the dead have all faced varying levels of Mingzhu’s nagging and demands for self-care. It’s a lie. They know it is; it shows in their following laugh. 

“I will leave you all to your sentimental farewells. And I will not bother, since I will be seeing you soon!”

Mingzhu waves the same way you would a classmate you’ll see again tomorrow.

They don’t leave, though. Not right away. 

With luck, everyone else was too busy talking to one another to hear Mingzhu when their voice dips lower. Momentary goodbyes to the people they care about most. They had one of those to do, too. Their head tilts towards CC.

Mingzhu’s kind smile may have become more common to some of the others in the room, but the adoration in their eyes is downright alien. Their body is turned from the others, for an added barrier to stop their rare moment of sincerity from being perceived.

“I’ll keep it short, so as not to give you more to yell at me about if the others are eavesdropping. Thank you. For everything. There aren’t enough words to express it. I’m glad that, for the infinite possibilities, I was granted the one where I met you. It was - is - an impossibly precious gift. Even if it was in a place like this, in this situation… like I said, I do not regret it. And, I meant everything I said earlier. — Granted I… believe we both thought it wasn’t possible, but, I -- if you would have me, know that I am… more than willing, still.”

They nod quickly, like that will nod off their embarrassment. A swell of warmth fills their voice, only for her.

“I love you, CC. I’m so glad this isn’t goodbye.”

They squeeze her hand again, with both of theirs. There was so much more to say, that they had thought of when they were sure this would be their last conversation. But… it wouldn’t be. They could tell her more tomorrow, and the day after -- and for every day to come.

In the past, people joining together to bring back what they’ve lost would register as not their problem. Certainly not worth their effort. Certainly not worth the offer they made. That was a dream everyone else could chase.

It was nice.

Nice to have a dream that isn’t powered by hate, or spite. A dream that won’t leave them listless and lost once they’ve accomplished it. For once, there was a lot they wanted to do in life, and once they accomplished those? They were looking forward to whatever came after.

They would impatiently await the tomorrows to come.

……...

That initial rift hop home wasn’t meant to be for much. Mingzhu had a few loose ends to tie up -- loose ends that involve them calling a woman they haven’t spoken to in 10 years solely from the hope that she could help wake everyone up faster. Loose ends that force them into conversations they would have completely avoided before.

And they realize, as they walk back to their apartment for the first time, and watch the news displayed on the TVs displayed en masse to fellow passersby, that someone has been looking for them for the year they’ve been gone.

Mingzhu has gone missing three times in their life, and this marked the first someone ever tried to find them.

There are small things people do to show that they care, that make you wonder how you ever thought they didn’t. The woman who took them in years ago was always doing those things, and Mingzhu, being who they are, had thought them transactional. A relationship of mutual benefit. They were the prized employee who brought the company fame, and she was their boss who tolerated a terrible attitude for their talent.

But Shizuka Otonaya weeps as she holds them, the moment they walk into their apartment, in the room filled to the brim with dozens of houseplants Mingzhu jokingly said took the place of a pet - the same plants Shizuka had watered every day for a year, while waiting for them to come home.

They’ll visit, they promise, and they aren’t lying for once.

Mingzhu wasn’t a changed person. Surviving a second killing game had not made them kind, nor had it instilled the slightest desire to try. Whatever privilege being liked by them bestowed some of their fellow survivors would not be extended beyond the small group. The miracle of the dead coming back to life was already happening; better not push it by asking for another. 

They didn’t love the world. Not the one they came from, nor the one they met everyone in, nor any possible rifts they may visit.

But they love someone, and they were sure they would love the chaotic days having friends ensured. 

[♫♫♫]

It's a bit ridiculous at this point -- falling asleep for a long period of time is something Mayumi has been well acquainted with. It feels like ages ago, it really is at this point, but she'd fallen asleep just like this five years before her first killing game. Her first killing game... where Mayumi had learned the meaning of despair, but the meaning of hope at the same time. She left it scarred, haunted by the thoughts of her dead friends, but she always held onto the feeling of hope. Hope let her live. Hope brought her to Valhalla. Hope brought her to everyone here. Hope brought her back to life.

It feels like nothing more than a long night's rest, but it's clearly been more than that when she sees the looks on everyone's faces. Relief, happiness, surprise... she sees it all, and it's enough for her to know just from one glance that she'd been asleep for far too long yet again. Still, the last thoughts Mayumi held onto linger in her mind. Loneliness, fear, despair… That’s right -- I died; she’d been impaled with a spear in a cruel twist of irony, in a way that resembled the deaths of her dear friends Yoshiro Yoshida and Hibiki Serizawa. But unlike the two of them... as she regains consciousness, she starts to wonder… is she… really alive? Against all the odds?

Finally, as she gains her bearings, Mayumi looks down at her hands and sees the crescent-shaped earrings sitting there. She clutches them tightly, knowing just who would have given these to her. It's at that point she knows for certain -- she's alive.

There are so many questions left unanswered, but tears fill her eyes before she or anyone else can say anything. She sobs almost immediately after because Mayumi has never been so happy. They came to save her... her friends came to save her... 

I have to get up… I have to see them… She feels almost like a newborn deer as she climbs out from the pod, practically falling into Tsurugi's arms as she tries to stand up on her own two feet for the first time in a while.

"Susu-san... waahhh!!!" Then she sobs some more. "I really thought I'd n-never see you again! I was so scared! But you came back... you all..."

"...Came back for us."

Tsurugi returns the embrace as soon as Mayumi runs into her arms -- and even though the shorter woman sobs, she can’t help the smile spreading across her lips, there is much that she wants and has to say, but right now at this very moment she settles set down with something short and sweet.

“You are back!” Her voice practically sings, “sorry t’ have keep you waitin’.”

“N-No, it’s okay… I’m here now!” She smiles back, shaking her head and looking up from Tsurugi’s arms to see everyone else standing in the room. “I dunno what happened… I guess it musta been a lot, but I’m just glad I can see you all again.”

Do they wonder why she’s happy to see everyone? After she died for reasons she can’t understand? For a murder she didn’t even commit? When some of them didn’t even like her to begin with?

“Why? ‘Cuz you’re my friends! And I know when we’re true friends, we’ll never leave each other behind!” Mayumi sniffles and the emotions rush over her again as she buries herself in Tsurugi’s arms. She’s tired of falling asleep, but she really wouldn’t mind staying in Tsurugi’s arms for a while. Because this is what hope feels like. This is her favorite feeling in the entire world. “Wah…”

--

Sure enough, returning to her rift is weird. This is rift R983. It’s nothing like the futuristic world of Valhalla, but it was the place where she was bound to return to someday. It’s her home. She grew up here. Her family is here. Her friends are here.

The killing game was only 2 months there, give or take, and not much has changed at home. That’s to be expected, though. It’s a world that was ravaged by despair for over a decade. Change doesn’t come easy, but taking down Despair Global Organization’s leader was a step in the right direction. 

It’s just the long process of rebuilding left to the people of this rift now. A thought passes through her mind as she thinks about returning: Ah, I came here because I wanted to make a wish, didn’t I? It’s a real shame that she didn’t get the wish she wanted from participating in Hero’s Rift -- but maybe it wasn’t even true to begin with. Growth isn’t something that can just be wished for, after all.

Adorning the scarf Tsurugi knit for her, she takes her first steps back into R983. Tsurugi said there was a surprise waiting for her at home, and Mayumi’s mind can’t even comprehend what it could be until she sees it with her own eyes.

Because… the first people she sees at home are her friends and family.

Her parents are there. Mizuno and Nobuyuki are there. Standing there, smiling, waving to her. Mayumi covers her mouth in surprise as tears of happiness fill her eyes. She hasn’t seen her parents since the world fell apart, and even if it’s only been a few months for the other two, it feels like it’s been forever since she last spoke to Mizu and Nobu. They probably don’t understand all the details of what transpired, but she’s alive and here now, so that’s what matters, right?

She runs to them, wrapping all four of them in a big hug that goes about as far as her arms can extend. Her parents have never been good parents, always pressuring Mayumi to be perfect, but it’s not hard to see that even they’re getting emotional from this reunion. Mayumi is their irreplaceable only daughter, after all.

Of course, with her new dimension-hopping powers, girlfriend from another world, and friends from even more other worlds, she knows she won’t be spending all of her time here anymore. That’s not a bad thing, after all. Mayumi would be sad if she couldn’t see anyone from Valhalla again (and don’t tell her friends, but R983 is a bit of a depressing rift to spend the rest of your life in). 

But for now, she’ll make the most of this precious moment because…

[ ♪♪♪ ]

When it came to meaningful goodbyes, Tsurugi, like the vast majority of the human race, objectively sucks, words slip away from her as her eyes scan the room and the people on it. There’s so many important and precious people here, she thinks to herself with a little smile. Clearing her throat, she rubs her real arm, a little dazed by… the everything around her. She puts her words of goodbye on hold for a minute, smiling warmly:

“You are all… incredible people. Thank you.”

It’s a simple, sincere feeling. But that’s just the essence of who Tsurugi is as a person, isn’t it? Speeches haven’t ever been her forte anyway but -- there is someone in this room she had very unique experiences with.

She takes a few steps towards Takao.

“Especially you, ya know! Yu-chan!” She laughs, thinking back on that experience that, at the most, was a few hours ago. Her voice goes quieter, softter: “I… thank you. So much. Really. Back then at that shrine… you know.”

She reaches for one of Takao’s hands, taking it in both of hers, bowing her head in typical Tsurugi gratitude. The tears gently raining upon Takao’s hand do little to affect Tsurugi’s voice as she continues speaking.

“I hope you will visit, on happier, less busier times. Eve-san an’ Emi-san are both invited, too. I hope I get to see you happy, Takao-san. You still deserve it. Thank you, for everythin'.”

Letting go of his hand, Tsurugi takes a moment to wipe her tears away before straightening her back, stepping back and showing a big smile as she used to, a light of determination shining inside her eyes from her heart.

She approaches her old body from two months and retrieves her ID card from it, quickly she goes over to a certain woman’s pod, opening it up, she takes off both of her moon earrings and places them on the sleeping girl’s palm, before closing her hand gently into a fist and closing the pod once more.

She doesn’t say a word as she stays looking at it, but her actions said everything for her, it is a silent promise that she will be working her hardest along with everyone else to make sure that the cold hands she just felt are once again graced by the warmth of life. Words can come after that.

For now, she’ll let Mayumi borrow those.

Facing the group again, she waves, now this really was it, the actual goodbye, eyes a bit brighter than they should be.

“Well then… bye! Be seein’ y'all soon!”

And she rift hops away to home.

---

She appeared at a small clearing, near a forest, not too far off her hometown, the walk back wouldn’t be longer than 30 minutes, so naturally, she broke into the fastest sprint she’s ever ran in her life, becoming a blur of purple, red and black.

She didn’t know how long she had been gone, it could have been a minute, a day, a month, it could be any amount of time. Maybe the inn isn’t even there anymore…! She has to know, she needs this much peace of mind.

When she slides the door to her home open, she’s greeted by a small gathering and her portrait on a little shrine. It looks like a funeral or some such.

Lots of yelling followed that moment.

Hysterical crying, relentless questioning, celebration, confusion, chaos.

A complicated explanation followed, though not everyone got the full truth, that was reserved for her mother and closest friends -- survivors from the cavern. It was those same survivors that made sure Tsurugi rested before anything, as naturally, she would insist on getting back to work as soon as possible. Her stubbornness earned a bat unleashed on her hair, being bonked with rolled newspapers and a ‘stay in your room for a bit, you got shot, dumbass’ order.

She could simply hop away and start working, of course but…

As she looked at those concerned faces, people that offered to bring her tea, adjust pillows even though she wasn’t bedridden, people who offered to work at the inn for a time, people who care and love her -- She knows she can’t just worry them all like that.

And for the first time in a very long time, Tsurugi takes it easy. She closes her eyes, lays on her back and smiles softly, whispering an exhausted ‘thank you.’

Time passes, peacefully and slowly, 3 days later, she’s traveling to a cavern holding a mall, some old friends going by her side, though they are not religious, they decide to accompany her anyway.

One of them stands a bit away from the small group, another sits right by her side quietly, yet another stands to her other side, but they all pay their respects differently.

Soon, they leave, stopping at a mid-way point to go their separate ways back home. And once home, Tsurugi immediately departed once again; to a different rift this time. A world she had to go to.

It’s not unlike how her own world used to be five -- six years ago. Chaotic, ridden with despair obsessed weirdos, like a piece of hell on earth, truly. But that hadn’t stopped her from running all over Japan before and it sure as hell wouldn’t stop her now, either!

It takes her several long days of non-stop asking, running around, doing odd jobs for people and even fighting to get the information she’s after, but it works. And with renewed energy, she sets off to go to Mayumi Tominaga’s parents’ exact whereabouts, locating the girl’s friends not long after.

She doesn’t speak to them for a time; she shouldn’t after all, Chise had told them not to mess too much-- but that isn’t what stops her. It’s rather… the shame of it all. The burden, that heavy feeling weighing her down, that she’s directly responsible. But that is being conceited, isn’t it?

Eventually, she tells them a small white lie. That Mayumi sends her, that they will see her soon, that everything will be okay. Things like that. Not exactly the full truth, but not entirely a lie either, more like… an obscure version of it. She simply omits the crazier details.

She says she has to leave, Mayumi is pretty far away after all, it may take some time to reunite them, but she assures, no, promises, that it will happen sooner rather than later. Perhaps words too bold to be true, but words she definitely believes in.

That things can go okay, that the future can still be bright in spite of everything; no matter how long and dark the night, it is always followed by the morning. She will chase that morning tirelessly for everyone.

Because even with her feelings of guilt, her sadness, her heartbreaks, cries and her past rush to join her friends on the other side, even with all of that and more, Tsurugi will run forward, head held high, towards a brighter tomorrow.

And she will hold the life, the second chance she’s been tightly, remembering the one feeling she’s always loved the most: Gratitude; accepting her life as a treasure because she was able to meet everyone -- and she will help them, not out of heroism as some might think: purely because she wants to be able to pay the gratitude she feels in her heart for everyone and everything around her, the many, countless blessings she’s been graced with.

Steps taken fueled by gratitude, to make the worlds just a bit better.

Heartfelt “thank you’s!” that she can’t wait to give,

Her gratitude...

The beating in her chest, that makes her love the world and the people on it.

[ ♪♪♪ ]

In the end, the choice was never a choice at all. From the second Dr. Inukai presents them with their third option, Ada knows what her decision is. After all, this is finally her chance to do something, to finally make her impact instead of being too cowardly to make the first step to change things for the better. And if her skills can even potentially help bring everyone back, then who is she to not even try?

...But, as much as she’d love to immediately get to work, she has some issues to attend to in her home rift as well. Which is why when the time comes to go home, she joins everyone, giving the friends she had made here -- that’s right, she made friends, she reminds herself -- a smile. Everyone in the room has seen Ada grin a thousand times, but this time it’s different. A warmth and vulnerability she does not often show lies behind it.

“I’ve never been all too good at goodbyes, t’tell ya the truth. So, I… uh, have sorta been. Dreadin’ this moment, ehehehe…” She begins, going to fidget slightly with a watch that is no longer there. “I guess it worked out in the end though - this is just a see ya later for now, right? Let’s all do our best, okay? No matter what you do next, take care of yourself. We’ll bring everyone back - but… it’s not just enough to exist for another person’s sake - live. Not just for the sake of everyone we lost, but for the people we still have. For ourselves. It wasn’t easy, but.. I learned that while we were here.” 

Although… she does take a moment to turn her attention to one person in particular - someone she had not expected to care for quite as much as she did. She walks over to Lowell’s side, nudging him slightly to get his attention.

“That ‘take care of yourself’ bit especially goes for you, y’know? Even though we’ll be able to see each other whenever, I’m not gonna hover over your back or anything. It looks like I’ll be a busy gal, after all!” Her much more signature playful grin returns, before softening. “But, uh - really. Thank you for everything. I couldn’t ask for a better best friend, after all. I’m sure that whatever you decide to do, you’ll do a great job - and if you need anything, I’ll only be a message away. You’re a good person, Lowell. Give ‘em hell out there.”

Content with having said her piece, she falls silent, taking a moment to reflect on her journey since her arrival to this strange new world. She certainly did not leave the same person she was when she enterehe Ivy who entered the killing game was distant, despite her friendly, mischievous nature. She did not want to get hurt, so she kept everyone so far away that she couldn’t. Letting people in did come to bite her in the ass, yes, but it changed her as a person - and there was definitely more bad than good anyways. The stress of yet another murder game, the horror of finding so many bodies, the inconsolable betrayal of someone she came to view as a brother, all of these things definitely left their mark on Ada. But she does not let them define her. After all, she still has a long journey ahead of her - a long life left to live. All she needs to do is find the courage to start it. 

[ ♫♫♫ ] 

Tomio Yasuda from rift S495 was dead. The Tomio Yasuda that spent each day in this killing game lying, manipulating, and attempting to bring nothing but grief to those here was dead. Unlike the others that died in this game that had their chance to return to the world of the living, that had the chance to return home, Tomio had no such chance. His real corpse lays in the incineration room till Valhalla decides to do something about him. This Tomio Yasuda was dead, unable to come back, unable to return home, and the truth of the situation is that...that was for the best. 

Tomio Yasuda was evil incarnate and he wanted the world to know that. His life was one made to make others suffer and that didn't stop just because he ended up in a strange place. Within this strange world Tomio had done all he could to worm himself into other's good graces. He had brought comfort to Ada in the form of a big brother, gave wisdom to Mingzhu in the form of being a grandfather, sought the comfort of Atsushi in the form of a son. He was awkward, meek, and in enormous pain from the losses he endured in this game...but he just wanted to be friends with people...that was the truth right? 

If only the truth wasn't so insidious. He wanted Ada to suffer the corruption of his influence, to see her grovel and cry when she discovers the one she had cared for was nothing but a monster, he wanted Mingzhu to drop their tough act and become overwhelmed with emotion, and Atsushi...he wanted to break him in every way that you can break a person. His desire to hurt didn't end there though, it extended beyond them, his desire to bring pain and misery to Takao and Eve as well, someone with a face that he wanted to see contort in pain participating in a love story that brought him nothing but disgust. His goal was misery. His goal was despair.

In the end he supposes that he had achieved that? He missed his chance of destroying Atsushi, but at least he was able to kill Takao like he had wanted too from the very beginning, and bring suffering to Ada and Mingzhu. That was what mattered. Though...the actual fate of Takao and Tsurugi remained unknown to him, he died believing in his own crimes...he died believing that he had achieved victory over them all, and what a delicious victory it was.

It did not last long however, as Tomio was granted the miracle that no one else was, that he could wake up again right then...and awake he did...to mannequins that made quick work of him. Smashing his body, destroying what was actually him...At the end it was a pipe crushing his chest...that was it...he ceased to be soon after...though they were faceless mannequins that did him in...he knew in his heart who it was. That desire for revenge reached beyond what can be seen by human eyes. but it was okay. It didn't matter to him whether he lived or died in the end because Tomio knew that he was still out there...

No matter where you go, no matter what rift is ventured too...there will be a darkness hanging over it as long as Tomio Yasuda was born. There was no hope for a happy end for him or anyone that crossed his path. Tomio Yasuda was born to bring misery as the Tokyo Ripper and across the millions of fragments...this will remain the truth...

Though the Tomio Yasuda everyone came to know here in this world has died, the Tokyo Ripper remains a constant nightmare that hangs over the many rifts....for now and forever...always be sure to check who is lurking in the shadows...and always be cautious of the people you call your friend...

[ ♫♫♫ ]

It’s so much easier to part without saying goodbye.

It’s an ingrained habit; his first major parting came without one, so he never ended up learning how to say it. It’s not like it’s painless—he’s become intimately familiar with the hollow feeling in his chest that comes with taking off like this—but it’s a nearly impossible habit to break by now.

They’d made it easier, at least; whether or not the other survivors were right about being able to save the people they’d lost, it felt like nothing but pure arrogance to try instead of taking a sure bet, however high the cost to cash in, and he didn’t want any part of it.

He glances over his body—in another time he might’ve cracked a joke about how bad valhalla’s mannequins were that they were indistinguishable from shitty human bodies—and gives a noncommittal shrug. It’s his, he’s back.

People shouldn’t be so eager to play god, tinkerer, or whatever with the lives of others, he thinks. A life shouldn’t only come back conditional to the convenience of others—they’re irreplaceable things. He remembers when he didn’t think this way, remembers a childish nihilism that was only enforced by his first time through a mutual killing game. Life in an apocalyptic hellscape only made it worse: his continued acquaintance with loss of life only strengthened his view that human beings were cheap and easy to trash. Not anymore, though. Not after what happened here.

He understands perfectly where everyone else stands, and can’t find it in him to hate any of them. No one wants to forget, after all. Even so, he doesn’t know if he can forgive it. The younger Haruto would laugh, seeing him all caught up and twisted in ideas of morality, but he guesses that even he can grow up sometimes. Not enough to back down from his own bullheaded obstinance, but that’s not something he thinks he can ever change.

He listens to the plans, the chatter, the see-you-laters, and decides it’s as good a chance as any to make his exit. He considers skipping out for a rift entirely not his own, a paradise like he and Mingzhu had mused over, but knows that he has no other choice but home. However long it's been there, there’s still work to do. Rebuilding to do. He’d skipped out on so much of it already, spinning his wheels in flames and wreckage for a few years. And really, it would be a shame for the rebuilt world to lack their Kiyoshi Haruto. After all, what kind of society doesn’t have creatives? The people need street art legend TWILIGHT, whether they want him or not.

Besides, there’s someone who he owes it to to return. A promise he doesn’t want to break, despite trying desperately to break another and succeeding in breaking a third. She deserves answers, apologies...whatever she asks for, he thinks. It’s something he has to stop running away from. His fingers touch the marble tying his hair back, and he smiles softly to himself. The Kiyoko he’d met here didn’t recognize him because she didn’t know him, but the Kiyoko from home would probably have just as much trouble with this scruffy undyed mess. He’s missed her like hell.

For all the tooth-and-nail tears-in-his-eyes screaming fighting he did to try and reset the timeline, Kiyoshi can’t help but be thankful not to part with his memories. For everyone here he didn’t like in the first place, the ones he’s leaving on bad terms with, the bitter last feelings he has in his chest, he knows that he’s changed from his time here. There’s more pain to carry, more uncertainty, but memories he knows he’ll still cherish and people he’s glad to have met.

He wonders how the rest of them are going to take it, him taking off like this. They’d have to live with it either way, but selfishly he wonders if the people he called friends will miss him for it.

Takao will probably get it, at least. He got a lot of things, over their time here. More things than Haruto did, as he understands now. It’s something he’s jealous of, but at the same time he wonders if this clarity comes with age or with tragedy. If the latter, well...he might be a little less jealous. Still, though, it seems like Takao’s tragedy is done with. A new shot at life, no longer the ghosts Haruto claimed they were. He’s happy to think that.

Mingzhu won’t be happy, that’s for sure. He’d gone and pinky-promised a quick vacation with them, after all, and had even gone so far as to call them a friend to their face. It leaves this decision feeling more like that selfishness from a few years ago, but he hopes they at least get it like Takao. Things were soured here. He wasn’t fighting for a reset for no reason. It isn’t something he’s ready to just look past.

Still, he hopes they can all do it. For all the anger and bitterness, he’d like to see them succeed. He truly doesn’t think they can, would still rather do things his way, but if he’s proven wrong here then so be it. He won’t stick around for the results, doesn’t think he’d like to ever see any of them again, but it’s not like he’d remember anyways if things went how he wanted.

Tomorrow is uncertain. Haruto’s never minded that. He departs for his own rift, melancholic and exhausted and ready to deal with whatever comes next. He has to. It’s a disservice to everyone who’s ever died in one of these to give life anything less than his all. Whether he’s making a mistake now in leaving like this, whether he’ll regret facing the people he’s left behind for all this time, he’s doing this because it’s a decision he believes in wholeheartedly.

A new day is coming.

[ ♫♫♫ ] 

You all continue to deliberate, asking Dr. Inukai different questions that she is (mostly) patient enough to answer. It was a difficult choice to make - Dr. Inukai knew that and kept a straight face - and your talks with her led to new ideas, which lead to negotiations, which then lead to compromise - and you all come up with a third option: to not reverse the hands of time for now and to continue working with her in hopes of one day waking up your friends. Keep your memories and be gifted the option to go to other rifts; within reason, of course.  

-- and this third option…. is what the majority of you picked.

She stands up now.

“So, this is what you all wish to do, yes? In addition with other people’s addendums and conditions.” Dr. Inukai says as she flicks her wrist and some robots flow into the room, beeping and carrying boxes of peculiar watches. “All right. But, before we do anything else, let’s get you all back into your original bodies. Let’s get you all feeling more like yourselves again. And, Servin dear, since you’ll be staying for a bit, please hold these files for me, okay?” She says with a smile.

Dr. Inukai sends messages out to everyone who left the conference room and motions for everyone present to follow her. It was about time for you all to leave the slacks you’ve been in for so long and begin the preparations to go home, to your own rifts.

After everything is said and done, after everyone has returned to their bodies and equipped their watches, and as Dr. Inukai waves you all goodbye, a smaller robot runs up to her side and eyes you all — The last thing you can see are the robot’s metallic, flower hair pieces.

There’s a saying that as we watch flowers bloom, the sun shines longer, and the world transforms in color; even if it is in bright technicolor, life is reborn, and hope feels near.

“.... Bye bye. Safe travels.”

...

It’s time to go home.

From where he stands, Takao looks to Tsurugi with a nod. There wasn't much left to discuss; people had made up their minds, and though there wasn't going to be a unanimous decision --

Well. There still had to be a decision.

"...Still, uh... Standin' by what I said. I'm for our third option, but -- only if we settle on a deadline. We can't... Make 'em wait around for us t' fix things forever. That's just stealin' time. We hit the deadline, then it's -- then we reset. That's... Uh."

He glances to his side -- to Eve -- to everyone else, and then to Chise with a nod.

The Furusawas are dead. And they killed them.  There is no remorse to be felt, no lingering feelings. No sensation of victory really comes with this, either. It's hollow, sort of dimishing feeling. It was a pointless fight they had, the finale to their show perhaps.

Nothing she should waste her limited brainpower lingering on.

Chise inukai speaks and everyone does, they debate, they argue, they practically begin hitting each other in a certain case and Tsurugi being the simple, honest woman she is can see all sides of this problematic coin they hold.

Whatever decision they take, it won’t be born out of complete selflessness or selfishness, there’s going to be a mixture of both in any choice, except one but thankfully, no one ever thought up the possibility of doing here without doing anything.

She wouldn’t allow that. None of them would in the end.

That’s all the insurance she needs from her fellow survivors. Chise had answered her demands already, everything she could say had already been said.

“Soooo… Uh. With my conditions met, Inukai-san… I’m votin’ for our third choice.” She says, scratching the back of her head dumbly, looking down at her feet so she doesn’t have to face the rest right now.

Lately, talking is embarrassing.

“It’s, uh. It’s… th’ best course of action we can follow right now an’ -- and. I’m willing to put my trust on everyone here. An’-- and, uh. I got some friends. They are smarter and kinder than me so. Um. Better with computers also. They can come help. Plus I'll be doing what Takao-san said we should, so..."

Slowly looking up, she faces whoever is still listening with a smile. Glimpses of a smile that may not be fully lost.

After the boss fight between P1U70 and PROSERPINA , AKA Shion and Seiko, concludes, there is silence. Those two don’t magically appear -- it’s strange. 

No messages on your watches, no surprise people visits, and no sounds aside from a door opening up, allowing you all to finally leave the trial room. As you all leave however, you will see a woman with bright red hair and glasses staring at you all, nodding your way.

“.... Well. Please don’t shoot me. Or do.”

The woman stares and sighs.

“At least before you do, hear me out and follow me. I’m Dr. Inukai, one of the researchers for Valhalla. I’m sure you’re tired and really don’t want to listen to another researcher but please, do so once more.”

The woman takes out her ID card and uses it to make a brightly light door appear and opens it. Inside is a big table with a bunch of chairs, similar to a conference room. She gestures for you all to follow and heads inside.

“I already know that some of you want to ask me about the chips and those who died. But, before I address any of that, it is important that you -- Shion and Seiko have died. While the bosses you have fought normally are nothing more the recreations of those who have died, those two.... transformed themselves. It’s difficult for me to explain but... they have died. They chose to go out in a battle. I wish they did not.”

The woman finally sits down and sighs heavily, rubbing her temples.

“You’d think I’d have grown numb to the concept of death by now... The chips.... I... I am sorry. I am truly, truly, truly sorry.” Her voice cracks.

“Your friends who died... they cannot come back. Their data, intentionally by Shion, was not stored anywhere. No copies were made. I have exhausted everything trying to think of something but I cannot. I cannot recreate your friend’s consciousness from scratch. I’m sorry. They are gone, as difficult as that is to accept.”

Dr. Inukai closes her eyes.

“In all my years, I have truly grown to despise mutual killing games. And... even I cannot ‘fix’ your friends, I have... been slowly working on something of my own. In case of an event like this.”

She stands up and presses a button and large screen appears, reading “re:START.”

“I have been developing technology to potentially reverse time for other worlds to undo what happened here. In a sense, I can bring everyone back and you all will be ‘reversed’ back in a way as if you never entered this place, everyone all alive - but not knowing each other. I... do not believe it is possible to ever stop mutual killing games. But, I will try using the data collected.”

The woman swallows thickly.

“Or... should you not like that option...  choose to return home and rebuild your worlds and use what you’ve learned to prevent any more mutual killing games. Should you want to be able to visit each other, I can have that arranged. I will guard your friend’s bodies, here, with my life.”

She stares at you all, expectantly.

“If you have any questions, now’s the time. And please, be at ease. I know you all want to go home and I assure you, you will. I know.. I know you’re tired, survivors.”

.

.

.

If it weren't for the announcement of another fight happening, Lowell would've joined Takai in pummeling Shion into a heap of scraps. In fact, he had already vaulted over his podium, before Blep appeared and screeched at them.

As both Eve and Ada began to taunt them, he couldn't help but grin. He absolutely supported their spite and he would absolutely join them. Thus, he jabbed a finger at the masterminds and furrowed his eyebrows down.

"Of course ya wouldn't let yerself be killed, ya fuckin' hypocrites. Cowards til th' fuckin' end. Don't think we'll leave ya an option t' escape from yer punishment. Yer comeuppance will come, assholes."

Lowell growled and when everyone's weapons materialized, Lowell took decisive steps towards Tsurugi and handed her the pair of Heavenly Katanas over. It's the least he could do after trading her earring in - and if it meant that these katanas would protect her, then it was all the more reason to give it to her.

"Ya'll need this, Tsurugi. C'mon, we've got asses t' kick!"

Ada listens.

She listens, and listens, but she really doesn't care too much about what Twinkatron 5000 or his evil mom have to say, so she remains silent. Instead, her attention is fully on clueing in to any hints that it might still possible to save everyone else, if for no reason other than to spite the one who broke the chips.

If one word could describe Ivy Collins, after all, it's stubborn. Stubborn enough to keep on trying to live her best life when it'd be easier to let misery consume her. Stubborn enough to survive two killing games, and lucky to boot. Spite is as good of a motivator than anything right now, which means when she sees Eve Fortnite dancing out of the corner of her eye (yes, she knows exactly what he's doing), she gets an idea.

"Eh, not even facing us yourself for your big final boss fight? What a lame ending, y'know? If you really want us to prove our desire to live or what-fucking-ever, why don't you get your own hands dirty?"

She pauses, turning to grin at Shion, then Seiko, then the enormous chimera standing in front of them all. It's familiar enough, the same one Ada's given everyone a thousand times, but... this time there's a hint of spite to it.

"Or, wait - did I just spoil your dramatic phase change sequence? I totally did, didn't I."

"Hey Seiko guess what. Did you know that uhm... I don't care? LMAO GET OUTTA HEREEE."

Is he... Oh god he is...