There was no response for nearly half a minute.
Then—
[Subaru Natsuki: …How do you know that?]
Kenji stared at the message.
The wording confirmed it more than any yes would have.
He kept his reply measured.
[Kenji Sato: I had a hunch.]
Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
He continued before Subaru could spiral.
[Kenji Sato: I cannot fully explain why I suspected it.]
A beat.
Then he typed what actually mattered.
[Kenji Sato: But it's okay to save yourself, Subaru.]
He paused only briefly before adding—
[Kenji Sato: We're both kids.]
Another second.
[Kenji Sato: You're not alone.]
The typing indicator blinked on and off several times.
Then nothing.
A full minute passed.
Two.
Kenji didn't send anything else.
Finally—
[Subaru Natsuki: …Thank you.]
A moment later—
[Subaru Natsuki has logged out.]
Kenji exhaled slowly and closed the chat.
Good.
He hadn't pushed too hard. The Witch's taboo was unpredictable. Even hinting too directly could cause problems.
He leaned back in his chair and glanced at the member list.
Kobayashi was still offline.
Considering her last message involved alcohol and elves, that wasn't surprising.
"…Guess I'll wait."
He reached for the remote and turned on the television.
Static flickered for a moment before settling into a late-night anime broadcast.
It wasn't anything he recognized from his original world.
Different art style. Different pacing. Characters he'd never seen before. He watched quietly, analyzing out of habit—story structure, tropes, character archetypes.
A small part of him noted that even this could be useful.
Observation was fuel for his system.
Kenji rested his chin lightly on his hand, eyes reflecting the shifting colors of the screen.
Kenji kept flipping through channels, half out of boredom and half out of curiosity, until he landed on a tokusatsu show.
That made him stop.
The man on screen wore a sleek armored suit and used some kind of cartridge-based transformation system. The color layout, modular gimmick, and energy effects all felt very familiar.
"That's...Kamen Rider Build?" Kenji muttered.
Then a second later, he corrected himself.
'No. Similar. Not Build.'
Which was honestly disappointing.
Still, he kept watching.
The protagonist was messing around with multiple cartridges, slotting them into a transformation device, swapping forms, combining effects, and calling out names dramatically enough to shake the room. It was ridiculous.
And incredibly useful.
Kenji's system began reacting almost immediately.
[Observed mechanical transformation interface.]
[Skill acquired: Cartridge Device Recognition Lv.1]
He straightened slightly.
Then another.
[Pattern Analysis Lv.1]
[Transformation Sequence Comprehension Lv.1]
[Combat Stance Observation Lv.1]
[Prop Weapon Handling Theory Lv.1]
[Timing Analysis Lv.1]
Kenji blinked.
Then leaned forward.
The show kept going. The hero inserted a blue cartridge, shifted into a speed-focused form, then swapped to a heavier red one with some kind of impact finisher.
More skill prompts appeared.
[Form Change Recognition Lv.1]
[Energy Activation Timing Lv.1]
[Weapon Draw Efficiency Lv.1]
[Visual Cue Processing Lv.1]
[Combat Flow Reading Lv.1]
That was already over ten.
Kenji's eyes widened slightly.
"…You've got to be kidding me."
He was actually learning from this.
Not mastery, obviously. These were fragmented Lv.1 skills, mostly technical comprehension and systems recognition, but the principle still stood.
Watching transformation-based combat media was giving him applicable knowledge.
His pulse picked up.
If tokusatsu counted, then that opened up a much bigger door than expected.
He didn't want to be some cheap knockoff of the guy on screen.
If he was going to imitate anything, then he wanted the real thing.
A Kamen Rider.
Or better—
His eyes sharpened.
"The Gokaigers…"
He kept watching, focus fully returned now.
On screen, the hero shouted his transformation call.
"HENSHIN!"
The armor snapped into place in a burst of light and mechanical effects.
Kenji's system pulsed again.
[Transformation Chant Timing Lv.1]
[Suit Integration Theory Lv.1]
[Activation Gesture Synchronization Lv.1]
He actually smiled.
This was good. Weird, but good.
Then, just as the finishing attack sequence began, the groupchat icon flashed in the corner of his vision.
[Kobayashi is now online.]
Kenji's attention shifted immediately.
[Kobayashi: …Alright. Hello everyone, sorry for the long wait to reply]
That alone was an improvement.
[Kenji Sato: Good evening.]
[Kobayashi: First question. This isn't a virus, right? Because I tried deleting it. Restarted my PC. Airplane mode. Uninstalled three programs. It's still here.]
He paused.
She tried to delete it?
[Kobayashi: I even checked task manager. Nothing. So… I guess this is real.]
Her tone was calm. Grounded. No hysteria. No drunken rambling.
[Kenji Sato: It appears to be integrated beyond normal software.]
[Kobayashi: Yeah, figured.]
A short pause.
[Kobayashi: About earlier… sorry for the immature messages.]
Kenji blinked once.
[Kenji Sato: You were intoxicated.]
[Kobayashi: Still. Sorry.]
There was a shift in tone after that.
[Kobayashi: Do you know something about Subaru?]
Kenji's eyes narrowed slightly.
[Kobayashi: You realized something about a "power" he had that didn't come from the system.]
He considered how to answer.
[Kenji Sato: I do.]
Typing stopped on her end.
[Kenji Sato: But explaining how I know would either sound suspicious… or make me appear as I know something i might not.]
That was the cleanest way to put it.
Silence lingered for a few seconds.
[Kobayashi: …Fair enough.]
No pressing. No suspicion.
Just acceptance.
Then—
[Kobayashi: I got something too. An ability.]
[Kenji Sato: What ability?]
There was a brief delay, then a system-style description appeared.
[Kobayashi: "Crush Magic — Allows the user to crush and shatter magic and physical matter into fragments. Can deconstruct spells and objects by applying magical force."]
Kenji froze.
Crush Magic.
His mind flipped through memory immediately.
Gildarts.
Fairy Tail.
He straightened slightly.
[Kenji Sato: That is known as Crush Magic.]
[Kobayashi: That's… literally what it says.]
[Kenji Sato: It originates from a series called Fairy Tail. It is considered one of the most destructive magical types in that world.]
A pause.
He continued.
[Kenji Sato: The user can shatter magic itself. Disassemble large-scale spells. Break apart physical matter on contact. It is extremely dangerous.]
The chat remained quiet for a moment.
[Kobayashi: …Oh.]
[Kenji Sato: The original wielder was among the strongest mages in his series.]
[Kobayashi: That sounds like something I should not test in my apartment.]
[Kenji Sato: Correct.]
A small pause.
[Kobayashi: Thanks for the info.]
Then, unexpectedly—
[Kobayashi: By the way, who's the oldest here?]
Kenji blinked.
[Kobayashi: Saki mentioned school earlier, so she's obviously still young.]
[Kenji Sato: Subaru and I are also still minors.]
There was a long pause.
[Kobayashi: …Wait.]
[Kobayashi: How old are you?]
[Kenji Sato: I am the youngest.]
Another pause.
Longer this time.
[Kobayashi: So I'm the oldest.]
[Kenji Sato: Correct.]
He could almost feel the embarrassment through the screen.
[Kobayashi: …Great. I was drunk in front of children.]
He didn't comment on that.
Instead—
[Kenji Sato: Do not use that magic casually.]
[Kobayashi: Yeah, I figured.]
[Kenji Sato: Crush Magic can instantly kill someone if misapplied. Even minor output could be fatal.]
A short silence.
[Kobayashi: Got it.]
Then—
[Kobayashi has logged out.]
Kenji closed the chat window and leaned back.
Crush Magic.
Pocket gods.
Digimon.
He turned his attention back to the television.
The knockoff Rider had just completed another transformation sequence.
The title card finally flashed across the screen.
KAMEN RIDER...CRAFT!!!
Kenji stared at it.
"…Craft."
He tilted his head slightly.
Lowkey… he kind of messed with the name.
Not bad.
Not Build.
But not bad.
[Subaru pov: 30 minutes ago]
Subaru had been trying not to think about it.
Which meant it was all he could think about.
The hallway of the Roswaal mansion was quiet, polished floors gleaming under the soft light of the chandeliers. It should've felt safe.
Instead, his heart was pounding.
Kenji's messages stared back at him from the screen.
[Have you already died once?]
[…Have you experienced something called Return by Death?]
Subaru's breath hitched.
His fingers went cold.
How?
How could he possibly know that?
His chest tightened instinctively, phantom pressure squeezing around his heart just from seeing it written out. He almost expected that shadowy hand to wrap around him again for even being this close to the truth.
He remembered trying to tell someone.
He remembered trying to tell Guilmon.
The panic. The desperation. The need for someone—anyone—to understand.
And then Guilmon had gasped.
Clutched his chest.
His body had glitched—literally glitched—before breaking apart into floating fragments of data right in front of Subaru's eyes.
Subaru had screamed that time.
He had never tried again.
So how did Kenji know?
His vision trembled as he typed.
[Subaru Natsuki: …How do you know that?]
He felt sick waiting for the reply.
Then it came.
[I had a hunch.]
[I cannot fully explain why.]
[But it's okay to save yourself, Subaru.]
[We're both kids.]
[You're not alone.]
The last message shattered something inside him.
Subaru blinked once.
Twice.
His vision blurred completely.
"…Huh?"
His voice came out small and cracked.
He reached up to wipe his face and realized his hand was shaking.
He was crying.
Not the cool, silent kind either.
It started with a shaky inhale.
Then another.
Then a hiccup.
"H—hic—what the hell…" he tried to mutter, but the words dissolved into another broken breath.
Tears spilled freely now, hot and uncontrollable. His chest hitched violently as he tried to suck in air between uneven sobs.
"I—I'm not—hic—alone…?" he whispered, like testing the words.
Another hiccup tore out of him.
His knees buckled and he dropped right there in the hallway, shoulders shaking. He pressed the heel of his palm against his eyes, but that only made it worse. The more he tried to stop, the messier it became.
A small clawed hand touched his sleeve.
"Subaru?"
Guilmon's voice was soft. Clear. Worried.
Subaru looked down through tear-blurred vision.
Guilmon's red eyes were wide with concern.
"You're leaking a lot," Guilmon said seriously. "Are you hurt?"
That did not help.
Subaru let out an ugly half-laugh that immediately turned into a sob. "I—hic—I don't—know…"
Before he could say anything else, Guilmon stepped forward and wrapped his short arms around Subaru's torso.
It wasn't elegant.
It wasn't coordinated.
It was tight and a little off-balance and entirely sincere.
Subaru broke.
He grabbed Guilmon and pulled him closer, burying his face against the Digimon's shoulder as the sobbing became full and messy.
"I'm—hic—I'm trying so hard," he choked out. "I don't know what I'm doing. I keep—hic—I keep messing up…"
Guilmon hugged him tighter.
"I am here" Guilmon said firmly.
That made Subaru cry harder.
His breaths came in sharp hiccupping gasps, shoulders jerking as he clung to Guilmon like he'd disappear if he let go.
"I thought I had to do it alone," he whispered brokenly. "I thought that was the rule…"
Guilmon tilted his head slightly but didn't loosen his grip.
"You are not alone," he repeated.
Footsteps echoed down the hallway.
Light. Familiar.
Subaru didn't notice.
He was too busy trying—and failing—to quiet his uneven breathing.
Emilia turned the corner.
And stopped.
Guilmon was hugging him back just as tightly.
Emilia froze at the sight in front of her.
Her first instinct was to rush over.
"Subaru—"
Before she could take another step, Guilmon looked up.
He didn't speak.
He just raised one clawed hand slightly and gave a small, careful gesture for her to wait.
Not now.
Emilia stopped.
The concern on her face deepened, but she understood enough to stay back. Quietly, she took a small step behind the corner again, not fully leaving, just giving him space.
In the hall, Subaru still clung to Guilmon for several long moments, breathing unevenly, trying to calm down. His grip loosened slowly, bit by bit, until the worst of the shaking passed.
Guilmon was the one who finally pulled back first.
He looked Subaru over seriously.
"Subaru," he said, "are you fine now?"
Subaru sniffed hard and wiped at his face with his sleeve. His eyes were still red, and his hair was a mess, but after one more shaky breath, he lifted his head.
Then, somehow, he smiled.
Brightly.
"Never better," he said.
It was obviously not fully true.
But it was closer than before.
Guilmon stared at him for another second, then gave a small nod, accepting it for now.
And that was when the screen appeared.
A translucent system window opened right in front of Subaru's face.
He blinked.
Then read.
[Mission Triggered]
[Protect Saki Yoshida]
[Target of Intervention: Hayato ____]
[Threat Level: non-existing / Escalating]
Subaru frowned.
"…Hayato?"
He read further.
The mission details expanded.
What this boy would do. How he would manipulate, isolate, pressure, and slowly ruin Saki's life if left unchecked. The description was clinical, detached—
But the implications hit instantly.
Subaru's expression changed.
The warmth from a second ago vanished.
His jaw tightened.
A sharp, ugly anger welled up in his chest so fast it almost made him dizzy.
"...That bastard."
Beside him, Guilmon's ears twitched.
He could feel it.
The shift in Subaru's mood was immediate and intense, like heat rolling off a stove.
"Subaru?" Guilmon asked carefully.
Subaru didn't answer right away.
He was still staring at the mission window, eyes hard now in a way they hadn't been before.
——
[Saki Yoshida's pov: present time]
Saki adjusted the strap of her school bag as she walked down the morning street.
The weather was nice. Cool breeze, clear sky, students heading in the same direction. It should have been a normal walk to school.
If not for the quiet wriggling inside her bag.
She glanced down and lowered her voice.
"Terriermon, please," she whispered. "If you want to keep coming outside with me, at least stay quiet."
Inside the slightly unzipped bag, Terriermon peeked up with his long ears folded in awkwardly.
"I'm being quiet," he whispered back.
"You are not," Saki whispered more urgently.
Terriermon puffed his cheeks a little. "I'm super quiet."
Saki sighed but couldn't help smiling faintly.
"Just… please. We're almost there."
She kept walking toward school, trying her best to look normal.
Then—
She bumped into someone.
"Ah—!"
She stumbled back slightly, clutching her bag.
An older boy standing in front of her quickly turned, looking concerned.
"Whoa, sorry," he said. "Are you alright?"
Saki blinked and looked up at him.
He was older than her—high school age, maybe. Neat appearance. Easy smile.