Ten years ago, the Apocalypse Virus outbreak claimed half of humanity in an instant, leaving countless cities desolate. Although Kurumi Tokisaki's intervention at the time had helped suppress the virus, remnants of Mana Ouma's strain still lingered in the atmosphere. After the Lost Christmas, chronic infections slowly began appearing across various regions.
These zones, tainted by infection, were designated as quarantine areas—isolated and sealed off from the rest of society. Over time, after years of neglect and containment, these zones became known as abandoned sectors. One such place was District 24.
As Kurumi walked calmly toward the area, a melancholic melody drifted through the air—a familiar voice. It was Inori's song.
Following the sound, Kurumi found Inori sitting atop a crumbling rooftop, singing softly, her voice laced with sorrow. Bandages wrapped around her arm—wounds from last night's infiltration into GHQ.
"Inori," Kurumi called gently, her crimson eyes narrowing with a smile. Startled, Inori turned and saw her—Kurumi, poised elegantly at the edge of the rooftop in her red school uniform.
"Kurumi-chan!" Inori's vision blurred as she stood up and ran toward her. But her step faltered—she tripped and fell.
She didn't hit the ground, though. Instead, she landed right into Kurumi's arms. That familiar warmth and softness returned at once. The comforting fragrance of Kurumi's body surrounded her, and suddenly, Inori wanted to cry.
For years, she had longed to return to Kurumi's side. Yet, she had always feared causing her trouble. Through the endless conflict with GHQ, Inori had never stopped thinking about her. Those three long years of yearning and pain made this moment—falling once more into that inviting embrace—feel like a dream she never wanted to end.
"My, Inori, you're still as clumsy as ever," Kurumi teased softly, releasing her and gazing at her with a faint, amused smile.
"It's been years. You've grown... but still too naive," Kurumi said with a light laugh. Though Inori clung to her so dependently, Kurumi's sly nature refused to let her get too attached.
"Eh?" Inori tilted her head, eyes blank with confusion.
"I brought some sweets. Let's eat together," Kurumi said, taking her hand and sitting beside her on the rooftop. They shared snacks from her schoolbag.
"So sweet..." Inori mumbled, staring dazedly at Kurumi. Could something this sugary really taste so good? Yet Kurumi ate with pure delight, as if savoring bliss itself.
"Kurumi-chan!" At some point, Inori had tied a piece of string into a net pattern, stretching it between her fingers and holding it out toward Kurumi. It was a small hand game—passing the string back and forth to form different shapes, until one side eventually tied it into a dead knot and lost.
"Inori wants to play with me?" Kurumi smiled faintly. But the string in Inori's hands wasn't ordinary—it was a Crown woven from human sin. Only Mana's viral ability could create such a thing. Inori's body, which contained both the virus and Void energy, made her a unique existence—worthy of the title Crown.
"I want Kurumi-chan to take it," Inori said eagerly, her eyes full of longing. She didn't entirely understand why—but somewhere deep down, she knew that if Kurumi accepted the Crown woven from her heart's sins, she would truly belong to her. All she wanted was to be with Kurumi—purely, sincerely, without a single impure thought.
"You're still too innocent. This level isn't enough. You'll have to grow stronger before I accept it," Kurumi said, gently patting her head.
"Kurumi-chan... that's mean," Inori pouted sadly, lowering her head. The string pattern vanished between her fingers—the Crown dissipated. She had been rejected, and it hurt.
"Now, now, I'm not being mean. Keep this Crown for me, alright? Don't ever give it to anyone else. When it's matured, I'll come for it myself," Kurumi said, tugging playfully at Inori's cheeks. "You said I was mean—so I had to at least act the part. Besides, how could I resist teasing such an adorable face?"
"Inori! Kurumi Tokisaki!" A voice called out, brimming with excitement. It was Shu Ouma—finally arriving. As one of Inori's fans, seeing her in person filled him with joy.
"Kurumi-chan, he's acting strange," Inori whispered, hiding behind Kurumi, her hand resting lightly on Kurumi's shoulder as she peeked nervously at Shu.
"Why are you hiding behind me?" Kurumi couldn't help but chuckle at Inori's absurd reaction, then turned to Shu Ouma and said, "Shu, if you don't mind, please come closer."
"Ah, thank you." Shu jogged over excitedly. However, his eyes were fixed not on Kurumi—but on Inori, who was peeking out nervously from behind her.
"You're Inori, right? The net singer, Inori! I'm your fan..." Shu blurted out eagerly, speaking in a rush. His usual timid demeanor had completely vanished as he rambled on.
Kurumi watched him with narrowed eyes and a sweet, sweet smile—so sweet, in fact, it was almost sinister. A glint of mischief shimmered faintly within her wine-red pupils.
"Are you scared?" Kurumi asked gently. Inori nodded slightly.
"I see." Kurumi pulled Inori from behind her and guided her hand toward Shu. His face flushed bright red in an instant.
"Kurumi-chan!" Inori protested softly, shaking her head and trying to pull away.
"You're afraid because he feels familiar?" Kurumi asked. Inori shook her head again.
"Then it's simply that you don't want to touch him?" Kurumi pressed further. This time, Inori nodded quickly. Shu's face turned pale with shock.
"I see," Kurumi said cheerfully. Inori tilted her head in confusion—why was Kurumi-chan so happy? But of course, Kurumi had always taught her that girls shouldn't let other men touch them.
"Do you like this?" Kurumi asked suddenly, guiding Inori's hand to her own cheek. She rubbed against it softly, her smooth skin brushing like silk. Her red eyes curved in amusement as she stared at Inori.
The sensation was so soft, so warm, it made Inori's heart race uncontrollably. A faint blush spread across her delicate face. Steam almost seemed to rise from her head as she finally nodded shyly. Yes—she liked it. Very much.
"This can't be real!" Shu clutched his hair in despair. His heart felt like it had been hit by a truck. Why are they like this? Did that mean men had just lost two people to each other in one go?
"Well, reward time is over." Kurumi released Inori's hand and turned away with deliberate indifference.
"Kurumi-chan, you're bullying me..." Inori whimpered sadly as Kurumi's attention shifted to a nearby object—the little robot Fyu-Neru. Inori fidgeted awkwardly, her face pink with embarrassment.
"Fyu-Neru! Kurumi-chan gave it to me!" she said hesitantly.
"Oh? That old music robot. I see—it's the one I gave you back then." Kurumi smiled faintly. No wonder it looked so familiar—it had been their parting gift.
"Caw!"
Bang bang... The sudden burst of gunfire shattered their peaceful reunion. Bullets tore into the rooftop around them.
"There you are, Funeral Parlor scum! We finally found you!" shouted a bald man below, flanked by GHQ soldiers. It was Lieutenant Daryl, sent specifically to capture Inori.
"I can't let Kurumi-chan get hurt!" Without hesitation, Inori jumped from the rooftop and sprinted toward the gate. It was reckless—suicidal, even. The exit was already sealed. Running there was walking straight into a trap.
But none of that mattered to Inori. Even if it meant being captured, she just didn't want her Kurumi-chan—the one who taught her to walk in high heels—to be harmed.
Thud! A single punch—just one—and Daryl's fist slammed into her stomach, knocking her to the ground.
"Wait, she's injured! You should call a doctor!" Shu shouted instinctively, his words completely missing the point.
"Student!" Several soldiers raised their rifles toward the rooftop, aiming at Kurumi and Shu. Terrified, Shu dropped to the ground, covering his head.
"GHQ has the authority to execute infected individuals without trial," Daryl sneered. "You sure you want to be caught up with her?" His mocking tone froze Shu in silence.
"I won't let Kurumi-chan be involved..." Inori groaned weakly, forcing herself to crawl forward despite the pain.
"Stay down!" Daryl stomped on her back, pinning her in place.
"Hey... you're hurting my angel. That makes me angry," Kurumi said softly, her red eyes narrowing dangerously.
"Oh? What are you going to do about it?" Daryl taunted, gesturing for his men to aim at her.
"Kurumi, they have guns!" Shu cried, trying to stop her, terrified she'd do something reckless.
"Oh, Shu, you're far too timid. Keep that up, and you'll be single forever." Kurumi smiled sweetly, casually cursing him before stepping gracefully toward the rooftop's edge.
"I don't know her," Inori suddenly said, her voice cold and distant.
"So you're covering for her anyway. That's all the proof I need—open fire!" Daryl barked. The machine guns roared, spitting fire.
But before the bullets could reach her, Kurumi leaped down—and landed unharmed right before Daryl.
"What the hell...?" the soldiers gasped. They had all seen it—she should've been riddled with bullets, yet she stood there without a scratch.
"Honestly... what do you think I've been doing for the past ten years?" Kurumi raised her hands in front of her chest, her fingers interlocked—and every gap between them was filled with caught bullets.
Ten years ago, her angel Zafkiel had overeaten, entering a deep evolution. Even now, it hadn't fully awakened. Kurumi couldn't use her time-based powers anymore.
Because of that, her greatest weakness had been exposed—without time manipulation, Kurumi's combat ability seemed crippled. She had always relied on her temporal abilities to achieve victory through cunning and unpredictability.
But during the decade without Zafkiel, she had devoted herself to training her physical strength instead. Fortunately, she could transform into others—Origami Tobiichi, Mana Takamiya, Tohka Yatogami, Yamai sisters—all beings of immense battle potential.
Through ten relentless years of honing those powers, Kurumi had forged herself into something beyond human. And with her Spirit body being vastly amplified in this world, she could now do the impossible.
Catching bullets was nothing. Even catching missiles... wouldn't be a problem.