217 Wakaba-hime

"Victory is certain."

"Too easy."

"Full barrage? I'll do it. But—"

The letters KO appear on screen.

A final, small foot strike ends the match.

"Man, I lost."

"Considering we fought evenly, that's quite impressive."

"Never thought I'd live to hear myself make a condescending remark in a game."

Disappointed. But ignited.

Next time, I'll change characters and fight again.

The sound of both controllers being raised fills the room.

D—actually, the real Wakaba-hime—engaged in a fighting game match.

As expected, her original creation, impossibly strong.

And though I possess the memory of being able to play games, this is my first time actually playing one.

That creates a disadvantage. My character does not move as I intend.

The memory and the physical act of control refuse to align.

It had improved considerably, so I could fight at a reasonable level, but still, taking a round from D seemed out of reach.

When the match—some number unknown—finally concluded, night had fallen outside.

Time flowed differently between here and there. Staying too long here risks triggering the Ryūjima effect.

Reluctant as I was, I decided to return for today.

"Then I'll see you again."

"Whenever you wish."

With that, I transferred back.

Ah, right.

Forgot to ask for pocket money.

Oh well.

I'll save it for next time.

Returning via transfer.

The use of "returning" implies that this world is now my true world.

Indeed, my authentic memories originate from this world. The memories from the other side were implanted falsehoods, planted by D.

In that sense, my existence as myself occurred in this world.

It matters little, one way or another.

Night had fallen in this world as well.

The Demon Lord arose and greeted them, but after a brief salutation, retreated into the residence.

I was scared—!

I can't.

Huh, it's not here—.

What was that?

That’s strange.

This isn't about divine rank or such trivial matters anymore.

It's not about whether one can win or lose. It's frightening at a fundamental level.

That kind of fear—like the chill of a ghost?

Incomprehensible terror.

I felt it as a D.

That eye glimpsing the bottomless abyss.

Even with her divine power nearly sealed, the gaze that instills fear in me.

Resisting that... impossible.

This isn't about feeling compatible or not.

The so-called worst evil god—seeing it in person, I can't even laugh.

It forces recognition of how inadequate words are at conveying true presence.

No matter how many words are layered, they cannot express its terror.

My master... is terrifying.

Defying it... impossible.

The first time I recognized D’s existence was upon acquiring the Skill of Wisdom.

That moment marked the beginning—the Heavenly Voice (Placeholder) announcing D’s name.

Next came my first encounter with Black.

A smartphone appeared abruptly, and from it, a voice claiming to be D echoed.

That was my first contact with D.

Afterward, it interfered occasionally, each time making me feel deeply uneasy.

An irreconcilable sensation.

I only understood the reason after ascension.

Ascension transformed my soul.

It was then I noticed what had clung to my soul all along.

It resided within my core, within my divine domain.

Resided—more accurately, it had consumed me, becoming my very existence.

It was the memory of Wakaba-hime.

A being that had overwritten my original self, becoming me.

I realized what this meant.

I was not the original self. I was merely a different entity possessing the memory of Wakaba-hime.

Once I understood this, every previous doubt and dissonance clicked into place like puzzle pieces.

I was displayed as Nameless.

The Vampire Child showed both this life's name and the previous life's name. Mine remained Nameless, unchanged.

The name Wakaba-hime never appeared.

It made sense that my skill points were low.

My original form had been of low biological rank.

Thus, the skill points—part of soul power—were low.

And the final confirmation: the discrepancy between D and my memory.

D had said.

An explosion occurred in D's classroom, causing other students caught in it to be reincarnated into this world.

And, as far as I can recall, there is no individual matching D.

Except for myself—Wakaba-hime, that is.

Looking back, there were numerous inconsistencies and gaps in my memories.

I cannot recall my parents’ faces.

I perceive myself as the lowest rank, yet recognize my own face as beautiful.

My personality, too, differs markedly between memory and current reality.

I should have regarded others as insignificant as stones on the roadside, yet I cannot suppress irritation when I notice their gaze.

And thus, I realized the truth: who D truly is—and who I truly am.

In the classroom, a single spider had spun its web.

Og-chan had stopped the boy from crushing it.

Not only that—Og-chan even proposed creating a biology care unit to tend to it.

The plan never came to fruition, as the chosen student burst into tears and refused.

The spider remained in the classroom.

Surrounded by humans far larger than itself.

A state of constant threat—death could come at any moment.

Rejected by most humans, viewed with revulsion.

Yet it clung desperately to life.

The lowest being in the classroom.

That was me.