Arima Kishou always turned in a blank page. He had no one to write to.
The only people he maintained a semblance of connection with were mbers of Squad Zero, and even that bond was more professional than personal. Writing a suicide note to coworkers felt empty, absurd.
Compared to him, Kanzaki Ryoma had a slight advantage.
At the very least, if he had to write a letter, he had soone to address it to—Kamishiro Rize.
They weren't blood-related, but nothing in the protocol required the recipient to be family. It could be anyone significant. And right now, Rize was the closest person he had.
Ryoma twirled the pen in his fingers, staring at the blank sheet issued by CCG. It felt pointless. He wasn't planning on dying. The letter would just end up filed away, collecting dust sowhere deep in the records room at headquarters.
Just as he was about to start writing, a familiar presence appeared behind him. He didn't need to turn around to know it was her.
"What are you writing?" Kamishiro Rize's voice was quiet, but carried the usual weight.
"Final letter," Ryoma replied without missing a beat.
"Final letter? Why? Didn't you say you weren't going to die?" Her tone was skeptical, almost amused.
"It's standard CCG procedure. Has nothing to do with my confidence. Any ti a large-scale operation is launched, we're required to write one. Most of the ti, we don't recover the bodies."
"Hmph. Who are you writing to? I've never even seen your relatives," Rize asked, feigning casualness, though the question held sothing else beneath it.
"They're gone."
Gone, in this world, Ryoma added in his mind.
He had family in the life before this one. He wouldn't curse them by pretending they didn't exist—but here, in this twisted world, he was alone.
"No relatives then? So who gets the letter?" Rize leaned a little closer.
"It's not required to write to family. You can address it to anyone, or even just hand in a blank sheet," Ryoma explained.
Before he could say more, sothing cold and soft rested against his shoulder.
Rize's chin.
"In that case, write it to ," she said, smiling faintly. "Unless you have soone better in mind."
Ryoma paused.
The look in her eyes said it all. If he so much as ntioned Kurona or Nashiro, that smile would disappear in an instant. He wasn't stupid enough to test her patience.
Besides, the system confird it.
[Ding! The host activated a mission: God-Level Choice!]
[Option 1: Submit a blank final letter. Reward: 10 fusion points.]
[Option 2: Address it to Yasuhisa Kurona or Yasuhisa Nashiro, with sincere content. Reward: 30 fusion points.]
[Option 3: Address it to Kamishiro Rize with sincere content. Reward: 50 fusion points.]
He didn't even hesitate.
"Alright," he said. "You win."
He lowered the pen to the page. But now ca the challenge—what to write?
It couldn't be perfunctory. The system had flagged that clearly. And Rize was watching from the side, her breath brushing his neck.
Ryoma sat in silence for a few seconds, then put his pen to the paper, before writing—
[Humans pursue peace, but they also crave war. It's the paradox of our kind. Two sides of the sa coin. And sotis, to protect one, you have to sacrifice the other.]
[To Miss Kamishiro.]
It wasn't his own words. It was sothing he rembered from his past life, but it fit. A taphor not just for the war with Aogiri Tree, but also for the silent conflict inside every investigator who stood between humanity and ghouls.
With that, he lifted his pen back up in the air.
[Ding! Option 3 completed. Reward: 50 fusion points.]
Success.
The system had accepted it.
He deliberately avoided writing "Rize" and simply addressed it to "Miss Kamishiro"—just in case. If soone in the CCG decided to poke around, the na alone wouldn't raise flags. As far as they knew, the "Kamishiro" na was just another alias. That small omission might be the reason Rize remained out of the Washuu radar long enough for her story to unfold as it should.
Rize read the short note over his shoulder.
"What is this?" she said dryly. "It's so dramatic. Do all humans have this kind of flair for cringe?"
Ryoma laughed awkwardly. "Is it that bad? I thought it sounded pretty deep."
"I an, sure, if you're a high school poet. But I guess no one at CCG's going to actually read it, so I suppose it doesn't matter how cringe it is."
She spoke without any real interest. She didn't expect to receive it. In her mind, Ryoma wouldn't die—and even if he did, she doubted the letter would find its way to her hands.
But still, she didn't move from his shoulder. And she didn't stop reading.
Maybe, just maybe, it ant sothing more to her than she let on.
Ryoma didn't press the mont. He simply leaned back in his chair and let the silence sit between them.
Quiet. Familiar. Real.
Just the way he liked it.
***
From now on, PS = Bonus chap is back. Now now, I feel like there's not even half the readers we previously had so, there shouldn't be too much power stones haha— maybe lucky .
Reviews
All reviews (0)