Oni-kun and the Ninja

Oni-kun's perspective

Exiting the conference room, I was led to the private quarters of Kusama.

Approximately six tatami mats in size.

Yet, the scattered clutter of clothing and mysterious objects whose purpose remains entirely unclear makes the space feel significantly more cramped than its actual dimensions.

To put it bluntly, it's filthy.

How can the floor not be visible at all?

"Kusama, clean this place up."

"My bad, my bad. I never have anyone come in here anyway."

Kusama laughs without shame, and I lose the will to be angry.

"Let's just sit down, then?"

I push aside a pile of trash and pull out a chair.

There was nothing else to sit on except the bed, so I accept the offer gratefully.

Kusama, as expected, settles onto the bed.

There's nowhere else to sit, after all.

"Anyway, it's been a while."

"Yeah. Last time, we didn't even get a chance to talk."

Last time we met, we exchanged glances but said nothing before withdrawing.

This is the first time since our previous lives that we’ve spoken face to face.

It truly has been a long time.

Especially for me—this is the first time I’ve encountered someone of the opposite gender who was something of a close acquaintance after rebirth.

Shiro and Sophia had no prior connection before rebirth, and conversation never flowed between them. That makes this reunion feel… something rising from within.

"Seriously, it's been ages. What’ve you been up to?"

"Talking about it would take a while."

Much has happened in this world.

Beginning to recount it would extend the conversation significantly.

I’d like to enjoy this reunion with an old friend, but we can’t keep talking indefinitely.

Besides, discussing my past inevitably leads to darker topics.

I didn’t want to spoil this moment with a heavy atmosphere.

"Wait, you're seriously joining as a demon? Seriously?"

"Seriously, I am."

"Come on. Don't do it. War isn't exactly sane, is it?"

A genuine look of distaste crosses Kagami's face. A dry laugh escapes me.

Apparently, Kagami hasn't endured the kind of hardship I have.

That aversion to war—its simplicity, its certainty—it seems admirable. Even dazzling.

"Kagami, you're not joining?"

"No way. No way. How many lives would you need to survive a war? If I get pushed into it, I'll just run. Oh, this is off the record."

The way he rejects participation—so casual, so dismissive—feels incongruous for someone affiliated with the central ranks of the Church of Divine Word, an organization that claims to represent humanity.

Freedom is nice.

Still, I know he'll end up dragged in when the time comes.

That's just how Kagami is.

A person who tries to get only the good parts by clinging to the long end—ends up drawing the worst lottery ticket.

That’s him.

“Still, weren’t you overreacting during the meeting?”

“Baka! You think it’s natural not to be nervous in a situation like that? Why the hell was I even there? Seriously, the mismatch was off the scale.”

Relief washes over me at his usual petty-city demeanor.

He hasn’t changed.

As he says, someone who panicked just from being called on in class might be expected to freeze in that tense atmosphere—but expecting him not to would be unreasonable.

“Honestly, you’re the one who managed to speak confidently in there. That’s impressive.”

“Haha. Maybe I just spun around once too many times and finally broke free.”

Could call it reckless, perhaps.

But even so, he was genuinely tense—just not in the same way as Kusama.

A tension that could vanish with a single misstep.

"Hey, Sasa-san."

Kusama called out as before.

"Ah, sorry. Please call me Lars, if you don't mind."

He felt it might be acceptable to be addressed the same way by Kusama as before.

Yet, he still did not wish to speak his former name.

It was, in truth, a trivial fixation. But he could not help but feel that the name from his past life—and the name bestowed upon him by his parents in this life—held no rightful claim to his current self.

"Sasa-san, when did you suddenly wake up to your delusions of grandeur?"

"That’s not quite it. There are complicated circumstances. I’d prefer not to be called by my real name, if possible."

"Hmm. Well, if that’s how it is."

He didn’t fully accept it, but Kusama nodded in agreement.

Still, delusions of grandeur.

Sophia had said the same. It stung, quietly.

"Ah, uh, Sas, uh, Lars? I mean, come on, you're not... you're not dating that goddess of the school, Haruka, are you? Right?"

"What?"

"Right? No way! You're hanging around Haruka—the school's beauty queen—how reckless is that!? Anyone else finds out, they'll kill you! Even if you're not actually dating her!"

Ah... uh...

True, Shiro—more precisely, Haruka from a previous life—was popular.

But it wasn't because anyone dared approach her. The aura of distance kept others at bay. She was admired from afar, that much was certain.

Just being near her could draw lethal intent from certain individuals.

"It's fine. We don't have anything like that."

Knowing Shiro as he is now, such feelings would never arise.

"Good. Then keep an eye on Shiro so no strange insects latch onto her. You're the only one I can rely on!"

"Yes, yes."

Dismiss it casually.

Even if I do nothing, I don't expect Shiro to end up with a lover.

She seems uninterested in such matters.

"Besides, why hasn't Shiro’s appearance changed at all? Or Sasa? Or Lars? Why do they all look the same as before? From what I know, reincarnation should alter one’s face."

"I don’t know either."

I didn’t wish for this face.

"Maybe the commonality is that both Shiro and I were originally monsters. Could it be that when monsters evolve into humanoid form, they regain their previous appearance?"

"Right—Shiro was supposedly known as a 'demon of the labyrinth,' according to the old man."

"Old man?"

"Pope."

Why can this person be so tense at a meeting, yet casually call the head of a major organization 'old man'?

The standards here are unclear.

"I only heard what was said, but is it really true that Suzuka did something significant?"

"It's true. Almost frighteningly so."

It's regrettable to shatter the illusion that Kusama holds about Shiro, but it's fact that Shiro has been involved in serious matters.

I've heard with my own ears that Shiro has committed massacres. Shiro has declared intentions to continue.

I cannot stop this. From now on, I will be in a position to assist.

"That Suzuka. It's plausible, I suppose."

Plausible?

"Isn't it the kind of thing you'd expect from Suzuka?"

"Perhaps."

Indeed, Suzuka has always been enigmatic since the previous life.

"Still, I feel like they've changed after rebirth."

"That's right. It's been over ten years. Of course it's changed."

"Still, you haven't changed much, Suzuka."

Lying down on the bed as if digging a grave, Suzuka.

In fact, I'm relieved by Suzuka's unchanged attitude.

"Speaking of change, isn't Rihoko's attitude changed too much?"

"Oh? Who might that be referring to?"

Suzuka's words, spoken as if remembering something, were answered by a third voice.

Matching Suzuka's motion—slow, like a creaking neck—I turn my head back as well.

There, standing there, was Sophia, wearing an expression far too terrifying to be called a smile.