In the distance, several trucks sat parked between the shells of abandoned buildings.
Gai Tsutsugami walked side by side with the slightly shorter pink-haired girl through an old neighborhood that had already been reduced to rubble ten years ago. It was past noon. Behind them, not far off in the harbor district, the skeletal Christmas tree still blazed with light, and the thin wail of ambulance sirens could still be heard drifting over.
Though a full-scale carpet-search with all available forces could have tracked down that fleeing terrorist cell, the chaos left by the destroyed bridge would not allow the GHQ to mobilize again so soon.
"Gai!"
The moment they stepped into a bullet-scarred building, a voice rang out from the dark.
Footsteps followed—shuffling, overlapping—and a large group of young people in matching uniforms streamed forward. Most were male, though a few female faces were mixed among them. The most striking was a chestnut-haired girl in a wheelchair, wearing the neural interface suit required to pilot an Endlave.
"I'm sorry… Gai. I wasn't good enough. I couldn't hold on until you came back."
Ayase Shinomiya's eyes were red at the corners, as though she had cried not long ago. She bowed her head to Gai, her expression heavy with self-reproach.
"I gave you a brutal order to hold for twenty minutes in that outdated unit—and you completed it brilliantly, even exceeding what I asked. Now you're calling it your own failure. Are you trying to mock my command?"
"That's not—! I never meant that!"
Ayase's face flushed crimson. She shook her head vigorously, words stumbling over each other.
(③)
The short, long-haired girl at Ayase's side—Tsugumi, Funeral Parlor's communications chief and resident hacker—did not seize the moment to tease her the way she would have in the original. She only kept her head down in silence. The other members mirrored the same hollow dejection. This had been the most devastating defeat in Funeral Parlor's history since its founding—they had come within a breath of losing Gai himself.
"Everyone. Please, lift your heads."
Gai understood how badly their morale had been shattered, and so he stepped into his role as leader without hesitation.
"This failure is entirely mine. The result of my own arrogance—of underestimating the enemy."
"You are all outstanding soldiers. Outstanding companions. Allow me, here and now, to offer each of you my sincerest apology. I have let you down."
The Gai Tsutsugami who was always so proud—so utterly certain of himself—bowed deep and low before his subordinates. Even Inori Yuzuriha was caught off guard by how genuine it was.
"Gai, you made it back alive. That's the only result that matters. Please—say no more." Shibungi was the first to speak, unable to bear it, stepping in immediately to support him.
"Our losses this time…"
"Hey!"
Inori cut across him.
Every head turned. All eyes landed on the mysterious pink-haired girl standing behind Gai.
In the world's original course, Inori—who should have been a core member of Funeral Parlor by now—had arrived a full year and a half late, only just meeting these people who would become her future companions.
The Funeral Parlor members stared. The girl had a flawless face, yes—but her impatient expression and her all-black outfit caked in ash and blast dust did nothing for first impressions. She looked less like a resistance fighter and more like a delinquent who had wandered in from some third-rate school.
"Do you want this kid to die? Save the small talk for later."
Inori stepped aside, letting everyone see what lay on the old flatbed cart behind her—a boy sprawled across it, barely clinging to life, lying on the black coat that Gai had given up.
"Kyō!"
That one word swept away any lingering suspicion. Argo Tsukishima broke from the group and rushed forward to check the boy's injuries.
"Shoulder wound. Not a vital hit, but he's lost too much blood. Argo—get him treated. Now."
Gai said this.
"…Reckless idiot. I told you not to follow." Argo bit out the words—addressed at the boy who couldn't hear a single one—then turned and pushed the cart briskly away. As he passed Inori, he gave her one long, wary look.
"Gai—who is this girl?"
Ayase studied Inori with sharp, cautious eyes. Every instinct told her this particular girl was anything but ordinary.
"Allow me to introduce her." Gai cleared his throat, stepped in front of Inori, and faced the group. "Inori. From today onward, she is our new companion."
"What??"
A collective gasp broke from the crowd.
"What's going on, Gai?"
Shibungi wasn't especially surprised—he knew Gai well enough. Surviving that situation and returning with a girl in tow meant there had to be a reason.
"A stranger saved my life. The girl named Inori was sent by him as an ally to support us."
As he said it, Gai watched Inori's reaction from the corner of his eye. She looked as indifferent as ever—so he continued.
"Inori. It's a pleasure."
Inori offered a clear, light smile and stepped forward to greet the assembled Funeral Parlor members.
"She's…"
"A companion? You're joking, right?"
Murmurs rippled through the group—quiet enough to technically be private, yet in this stillness, they might as well have been spoken aloud. The sentiment was plain: this girl had slender arms, a slender frame, looked helpless at a glance. Fifteen or sixteen at the oldest. Aside from that almost unreally perfect face, there was nothing remarkable about her.
How could someone like this be a companion?
"Don't underestimate her."
"She can use the 'Void Genome'—the most critical asset from our operation. Going forward, Inori will be the linchpin of our combat strategy."
Gai had heard every word of the doubt, and he shut it down immediately.
"Hold on."
Inori's brow creased slightly. She fixed Gai with an unamused look.
"When did I agree to be anyone's 'linchpin'? I take orders from Diavolo. No one else."
"That is his instruction. Don't worry, Inori—if you have any objections to my arrangements, you can contact Diavolo directly at any time."
Gai remained composed. He and "Diavolo" had already hammered out the terms of their agreement on the ship. The man's intent was clear: Inori and the power of her set of Voids would be placed in support of him. He had nothing to worry about.
"…What a pain."
Inori clicked her tongue and made a show of looking put-upon.
There was no need for advanced planning. Inori was able to slip between two personas naturally, fluidly—and any behavior she judged useful for concealing her true identity, she simply performed. She couldn't overdo it, of course. Something too perfectly seamless would only raise suspicion.
"If you have complaints, take them to Diavolo. These are his arrangements."
Gai caught the look on Inori's face—unwilling, but unable to refuse—and felt a small, private satisfaction. He pressed on with the introductions.
"This is Shibungi. My strategist."
The silver-haired, scarred man said nothing. He gave Inori a single cold nod.
"And this is Ayase Shinomiya—Funeral Parlor's ace pilot."
"Hello. Ayase is fine."
"Oh—you're the one who held the bridge three-on-one." Inori pressed a finger to her lips, her face lighting up as though she'd only just made the connection. Then, to everyone's surprise, she walked straight over to Ayase's wheelchair and beamed at her with warm, unhesitating sincerity. "I watched the whole thing from out there. That was incredible technique. You have to teach me how to pilot an Endlave sometime."
Inori's smile was radiant. Being praised so earnestly—and asked to be a teacher—by someone she'd only just met was not something the straightforward Ayase had any defense against. Her impression of this newcomer shot upward.
"No, I… I only just learned myself…"
"Inori. Forget the Endlave. You have far more impressive abilities." Gai said it lightly, almost teasing.
Ayase's expression froze. Whatever favorable impression of Inori she'd just built up—she felt it shatter.
"Heh heh~♪ Ayase, looks like you've found a new enemy~"
(③)
Tsugumi had caught the shift immediately. She leaned in close to Ayase's ear, a wicked grin on her face, and whispered just loudly enough for two.
"Tsugumi—shut up!"