Epilogue

"You're really 'talking big,' aren't you!"

　It was a strange phrasing, but Resty didn't mind. 　So she uses words like that.

"So? Tell me more about that... what was it, Chairman Morey?"

　So she'll talk to me with that kind of warmth. 　Resty knows almost nothing about Rubaf. 　They were just acquaintances where Rubaf picked her up when she was near death after a match and looked after her for a few days. But she doesn't dislike the air that flows between them.

　I want to know more.

　If I laugh and nudge her, does her hair spread out like that?

　Does she have such a faint, nostalgic scent?

　More——

"Ahahaha!"

　Rubaf, who finally laughed, has nothing below her waist. 　She was already dead, forced to pretend otherwise by the demon's power. Now her body is slowly crumbling within the white flames, vanishing as it mixes with the morning mist.

"Come on, there's more, right? Like what happened after you suddenly punched them in the face." "You bet. What kind of mess I got into after that——"

　Normally, I would never talk about it. 　The uncool, pathetic way I lost my first battle.

　The impact when Morey's punch landed.

　The pain of a cracked molar.

　Taking the asphalt to the face. 　My spine creaking.

　Resty's mouth spun the words effortlessly.

　Every time she did, Rubaf laughed through her tears.

　Happily.

　Amused.

　As if—in this very moment, she had just been born.

.

.

.

.

. . . .