Chapter 288: Rikka's Great Summoning
The clacking of keys abruptly stopped. The soft glow from the monitor cast flickering light over the small room, illuminating Gabriel's puffed cheeks and Kouya's faintly smug expression. For a moment, only the whir of the computer fan and the ticking of a nearby clock could be heard.
Kouya lifted his head—and met a pair of eyes filled with murderous intent staring right at him.
"What did you just see?"
Gabriel's teeth were clenched, her tiny fists trembling, her delicate wings fluttering with irritation as her face darkened with rage.
"…Pink teddy bear panties?" he almost said.
But sanity prevailed. He could already picture the incoming Angelic Fist of Retribution—her preferred form of divine punishment. It might not hurt, but she'd definitely throw him out the door.
So Kouya coughed lightly. "Didn't see a thing."
"Hmph!"
The lazy angel huffed loudly, clearly unconvinced. Her golden eyes narrowed suspiciously, but she said nothing. She couldn't very well demand he confess to seeing her underwear—doing so would make things even worse. Anyone who dared to mention it would get their skull cracked, no questions asked.
She flopped back into her chair, spinning slightly before restarting a new match. The monitor light reflected off her smooth hair as she tapped the desk impatiently. "I'm hungry. Go heat up my bento."
"You can eat it cold," Kouya replied flatly.
"I know, but I want it hot. Go warm it up." Gabriel puffed out her cheeks, glaring at him as though daring him to say no.
"…"
Clearly, the useless angel was still sulking from earlier and had now entered her classic unreasonable princess mode.
Kouya sighed. "Want me to feed you too?"
"Ew! Gross!" Gabriel scrunched her nose in disgust. "Don't even think about it!"
"Then heat it yourself." Kouya leaned back and calmly opened the bento. "I'm eating."
The scent of warm food spread through the air. Gabriel, who'd been absorbed in her game minutes ago, suddenly heard her stomach rumble loudly—like a pigeon cooing from deep inside.
Her cheeks turned crimson. "I'm hungry!"
"Mm-hm." Kouya continued eating.
"Give me that shrimp ball."
"Why should I?"
"I bought you a drink earlier, didn't I? One shrimp ball isn't much to ask!" she said, waving her chopsticks dramatically.
'You have some nerve saying that. Those drinks were from that absurd lucky draw you won, and everything you drink now comes from my wallet.'
Gabriel seemed slightly guilty, but her pride was stronger. She puffed her cheeks and clenched a tiny fist. "What are you staring at? If you won't share, go back to your own room! You're annoying!"
Kouya smirked. "Open your mouth."
"Huh?"
The next instant, a warm shrimp ball was popped right between her lips.
She froze for half a second, eyes wide. The flavor spread across her tongue—soft, juicy, perfectly seasoned. Her cheeks tinted pink as she chewed slowly, glancing shyly at the box again.
Kouya chuckled, picking up another one and holding it up with a faintly teasing smile.
Gabriel pouted. 'This guy's definitely thinking something perverted. That smile is so punchable, but the shrimp ball's really good.' Her fingers twitched toward the keyboard. 'If I wait until the match ends, they'll all be gone.'
"Fine," she muttered under her breath. "I'll let him off this time."
Then came that deep, smooth voice again—close enough that she could feel his breath by her ear.
"Open your mouth."
Just as the match began, her in-game character spawned at the fountain. Distracted by the sudden whisper, Gabriel instinctively obeyed. "Ah—"
And once again, another bite slid past her lips.
"…" Kouya looked rather pleased.
By the time the bento was finished, more than half of it had gone to feeding the useless angel. Kouya had barely eaten anything himself.
Realizing this, Gabriel's face flushed crimson. She looked away and crossed her arms. "I'm full. You can have the eel bento. Take it and leave already—you're irritating me."
Kouya laughed softly but said nothing.
...
Not far away, in a dimly lit apartment—
Takanashi Rikka stood perfectly still in the center of her room. The curtains were drawn tight, and the air smelled faintly of marker ink and snacks. The floor was dominated by a hand-drawn magic circle, a lopsided six-pointed star outlined in bright colors. Each point was weighed down by a random offering: a handmade doll, a wooden robot, a bottle of water, a crumpled snack bag, and even a half-eaten cookie.
In one hand, Rikka held a black-covered grimoire, the kind of old book that looked ancient but probably came from a discount bin. Her other hand hovered dramatically above the circle as she whispered a chant:
"O spirit from another world, heed my call… reveal thyself before me…"
Her tone was serious, solemn even—but no question about it. This was peak chuunibyou.
Her sister, Takanashi Touka, had long given up trying to cure her. Once, Touka tried taking away Rikka's props, and the girl cried for two hours straight. Since then, Touka let her be.
"Rikka, dinner's ready!" Touka's calm voice echoed from the kitchen.
"Got it!" Rikka called back automatically, not breaking her pose.
She finished the chant and sighed. Deep down, she never actually believed anything would happen. The grimoire was something she'd picked up at a used bookstore for 1,500 yen, and the magic circle was drawn with marker pens. If such a thing could really summon creatures from other worlds, there'd be demons running convenience stores by now.
She turned to leave—then froze.
The circle shimmered faintly. Lines of light crept across the floor, twisting unnaturally, pulsing like veins of energy. The air grew heavy.
Then, with a sound like a sigh, a girl appeared.
She had long black hair, smooth and glossy as ink. Her eyes were blood-red and empty. Her porcelain face was flawless yet unsettling, too perfect to feel alive. The black sailor uniform she wore seemed out of place in this age, and yet, it fit her.
Rikka's heart stopped. "W-who are you?"
Her voice trembled. She'd spoken about spirits and other worlds a hundred times before—but that was fantasy. Pretend. A shield to protect herself from the dull, painful world outside.
Even when she'd once seen a faint magic glow around Kouya, she'd called it a visual effect. He was just another chuunibyou in her mind—a fellow dreamer, not someone real.
But this—this was real.
It was like a child doodling a dragon and accidentally giving it life.
The black-haired girl's lips moved slowly. Her voice was flat, distant. "You may call me… the Hell Girl."
"Hell Girl?" Rikka blinked rapidly. "What's that supposed to mean?"
The girl tilted her head slightly, her hair falling forward. "You don't know? No matter. It isn't important."
She continued in a whisper. "Though this is not my work hour, I accepted your offering. Therefore, I must fulfill your request. Tell me—who do you hate?"
"My… offering?" Rikka's gaze dropped to the floor. Her eyes flicked over the random trinkets and snacks—and froze.
'Wait. The cookie Vigne gave me… it's gone.'
The black-haired girl nodded faintly. "If hatred binds your heart, pull the red thread. Your vengeance will be done." She paused suddenly, frowning. "Ah. I came in haste. I forgot to bring the straw doll."
"…" Rikka stood frozen, unable to tell if she should laugh or cry.
At the same moment, somewhere else—
Kouya felt it. A tremor in the air, faint but undeniable. His eyes narrowed. The trace of magic rippled like an echo across space.
The source: Takanashi Rikka's apartment.
That chuunibyou girl wasn't dangerous, but the Truth Society had been stirring trouble recently. As a precaution, he'd placed a protective sigil on her without her knowing.
And now, it had been triggered.
Kouya rose slowly, pressing a hand to his abdomen. His expression hardened.
"Seal—release."
The third seal broke.
A pulse of power rippled through him. His eyes shifted, glowing with dark golden light. The air around him vibrated as his presence sharpened—calm, dangerous, commanding. Same man, same features, yet suddenly, he radiated the aura of something more.
He stepped forward.
Ripples spread beneath his feet, distorting the space around him—and then, he vanished.
Teleportation.
This world's spatial fabric was fragile; even a fraction of his sealed power let him warp reality itself.
A heartbeat later, Kouya appeared behind Rikka.
Rikka, unaware, stood trembling, her hands clasped tightly at her chest. Her ahoge quivered like an antenna. "Then… can you let me see my father again?"
The Hell Girl's crimson eyes remained cold. "I'm sorry. I only guide those consumed by hatred… to hell."
"I see…" Rikka lowered her head, voice trembling. Disappointment clouded her eyes.
The Hell Girl turned. "If there is nothing else, I will take my leave—"
But she froze mid-sentence. Her crimson eyes widened. For the first time, emotion flickered across her porcelain face. She stared past Rikka's shoulder, her composure cracking—as though she'd just seen something impossible.
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