By this point, barely any heroes were appearing. They had steadily picked off the few remaining Goddesses, and peace was returning to the world.
Koyuki could see the end coming. They weren’t completely in the clear yet. For instance, there were still problems with what to do with the humans who had come back from turning—but the need for fighters was a thing of the past.
Just the other day, they had defeated what they believed to be the last Goddess, and nothing unfortunate had occurred since. It seemed as if the heroes and the Goddesses had been eradicated completely.
“What do you say, you three…? You don’t have any regrets, do you?” Azuma asked.
“…No.”
Koyuki forced herself to shake her head. Haru and Rindou did the same.
“What would there be to regret in the first place?” Rindou said, putting on a show of annoyance. “It’s over now. We left everything out on the field.”
“Exactly. I learned everything that I needed to know,” Haru added, seemingly indifferent. But the truth was she was just doing her best to hide the emotion in her eyes.
“Yeah… Me too. I don’t think there’s anything left to regret.”
Koyuki forced herself to smile along with them. Azuma could tell that Koyuki didn’t really mean it, but he didn’t say anything.
“…”
All was silent for a while.
They were all thinking the same thing. Koyuki was sure of it—that they were all thinking the same thing and that they all knew it.
“Well, I guess this is the end of the line.”
Haru was the first to speak. Her jade-green eyes narrowed, her teal hair reflecting the light like a gem. Koyuki supposed this felt like a relief for her.
Only…
“This is a little disappointing, to be honest…,” Haru said suddenly. “There’s someone else who should be here.”
“Takanashi… You know she’s—”
“I know,” Haru said, her face a peaceful mask of resignation. Koyuki had seen that expression on Haru’s face countless times by now. That was how close they had gotten to each other.
“Anyway, this has been fun in a way. I’m glad I came here, after all.”
“It’s not like you to be so vulnerable with your feelings,” Azuma teased.
“Well, these are our last moments together. There isn’t much point in keeping up a show now.”
“I guess not.”
With that, Haru willingly thrust her hand out in front of herself. She was waiting for a handshake.
“Just don’t think this means good-bye forever, not if I have anything to say about it,” Azuma replied.
They all stared at him and then took a good look around. Haru smiled, bright and forceful.
“Good-bye, everyone. Until we meet again.”
“That’s right. Until next time.”
Apparently satisfied with Azuma’s response, she waved her hand and backed out of the room just as she was, never turning away from them.
“What are you looking so grim for?” Rindou asked, making a face Koyuki had never seen on him before. “She’s right, you know. It’s not like we’ll never get to see each other again.”
“Yeah… I know.”
Koyuki was a little mortified that Rindou had picked up that she was feeling sad. Rindou looked away, unsure how to interpret her silence, and scratched his head.
“If this is about her…,” he began in a comforting tone. Koyuki knew immediately who he was talking about. “Just let it go already. She was never really one of us to begin with. We just happened to spend a little time together due to a weird series of coincidences.”
“True, but still…”
Kaguya had only been with Charon for a few short months. Koyuki was fully aware of how strange it was to obsess over such a short period of time. But it was the memories that were bothering Koyuki now. Her memories with Kaguya. All those precious memories that Kaguya had completely forgotten about.
“You know what? After I leave Charon, I plan to go back to normal life. I’ve had enough of this stupid-ass make-believe, I’m glad it’s finally over.”
According to Rindou, there was no need for them to remain so hung up on the fact that this farce, known as the Extermination Bureau, had taken away six years of their lives. A clean break—that was what was needed. It was just the kind of thinking you would expect from him.
“You too, Koyuki… You should try to look forward. You’re not doing Kaguya any favors by letting this preoccupy you.”
“Don’t act like you’re not sad, too.”
Rindou didn’t reply, either to agree or disagree. He just stayed silent.
“You got me there,” he said eventually, agreeing after all. But from the sound of his voice, he was at peace. “I wish I could have spoken to her again, one last time. But hey, who knows? Maybe we’ll meet again somehow.”
“You think so…? That we might all meet again?”
For Koyuki, Rindou was someone special, different from the others. They were stuck with each other in the best sense of the word. Two peas in a pod.
“Of course we will. It’s not like we’re dying, is it?”
“You know…you’re probably right. You probably are.”
Rindou laughed, a little exasperated, before turning to face Azuma.
“Thanks for everything. I owe you one.”
“I’m the one who owes you. You’ve given me lots to be grateful for.”
Rindou smiled in response, a gentle smile that wasn’t at all like him. He took a step back and then smiled at the both of them.
“See you! Stay chill!”
Before he left, he flashed them an upbeat grin. That was the Rindou they were used to seeing. And with that, he disappeared from Koyuki and Azuma’s sight.
“Koyuki.”
Koyuki grimaced when Azuma said her name. It seemed as if Rindou wasn’t the only one who could see through how she was feeling.
“It’s fine. I’ve already accepted she’s not coming. When you think about it, Kaguya was only at Charon for a few months. There were others, like Sakura, who were here for much longer,” Koyuki said, making a face to show that she was over it.
Azuma said nothing, staring at her with an inscrutable expression full of mixed feelings.
“In any case, I better go get ready,” Koyuki added. “I still need to clean out my room.”