Epilogue B: But That Was, Barely.

A man was walking. His entire body covered in wounds, breath coming in gasps, he barely managed to keep moving through the back alleys.

The man wore a skull mask.

"Hah... hah... hah... cough, cough."

He spat out dying breaths and wore a smile all the same.

"Gah... hahah... hahahah... hahahaha!"

Because for the skull-masked man, the conclusion of this story had turned out one step better than even the best outcome he could have hoped for.

(No way — not only did I manage to destroy Kotoyorozu Kotoha's "noapusa," but I actually eliminated Elif Anatolia!)

In his dimension, Elif Anatolia's Gunscar "Prosaically (Bill Cup)" had been used to assassinate countless Chaos Institute students — or so it was believed. Because of her ability to twist the past, the actual total number of victims was unknown. But the impact had been devastating.

(I'll need to figure out a separate strategy for dealing with Koito Hikari, but... this is a huge step forward.)

The skull-masked man considered the greatest obstacles to destroying Azure Academy to be, in order: "noapusa," "Koito Hikari," and "Elif Anatolia." Two of those had now been destroyed — and on top of that, many Azure Academy students had been wounded in this battle, with no small number lost entirely.

(My immediate target should be the assassination of Kotoyorozu Kotoha... If I leave him alone, he might acquire an ability even more troublesome than "noapusa." ...The chances are far from high, though.)

He stared at the massive handgun in his hand. "Bard and Poetry." The Gunscar that could resurrect the dead.

(If that guy gets his hands on this, it's over.)

The skull-masked man knew Kotoyorozu Kotoha more deeply than anyone.

The skull-masked man hated Kotoyorozu Kotoha more deeply than anyone.

(Kotoha probably received love from Elif Anatolia, and that's what broke noapusa. I don't know why it happened or what led to it, but...)

There was only one condition for destroying noapusa. Kotoyorozu Kotoha had to be loved by someone, and through that, come to love himself. To realize that he had value — that he deserved to live. To understand, from the very bottom of his heart, that he didn't need to become the protagonist of a light novel.

(I married Lea, had a child... and only then did I finally reach that point.)

The skull-masked man wore a self-mocking smile. He could never love himself again — not anymore. But back then, he had surely loved himself too.

"No... forget it. None of that... matters."

He'd almost been swept away by old sentimentality. But he no longer had any right to remember those things and feel gentle. The man removed his mask and wiped the blood soaking his face.

"Destroy Azure Academy. That's my reason for living."

The man — Kotoyorozu Kotoha — dragged his heavy legs through the dark back alleys and kept walking.

I — Rafael Garcia — was walking through the desert.

(Damn. This was... my... loss.)

I could barely breathe. My whole body was wrecked. The pickup truck I'd used to escape this far had been riddled with bullets and wouldn't move anymore.

But I didn't stop walking. If I stopped, I'd be killed.

(My loss. God, was this what You wanted? That this was right?)

Mexico's biggest mafia — Sangre Oculta, "The Hidden Blood." I was the boss's nephew, an executive, and I'd decided that something had to change. That it wasn't okay for people who did nothing but hurt others to keep living comfortably. It took me until forty-five to finally realize something that obvious.

(And this... was the result...)

Every one of my comrades who'd followed me was dead. There'd been a traitor among the cops we had on the inside. Today's meeting had been a trap from start to finish — and I'd been the one everyone pushed to escape, barely making it out alive.

(But there was no car anymore. I had to cross dozens of kilometers of desert on foot.)

In my bag: a few water bottles. A little food. I'd always kept myself prepared to run at a moment's notice. But whether I could actually make it across this desert — that was going to come down to the wire.

And that wasn't all. The cartel was still out there, hunting me with bloodshot eyes. Hunting the man who'd betrayed the boss and tried to hand him over to the police.

(I just... wanted to do the right thing...)

Because once, I hadn't been able to save a boy named Kotoyorozu Kotoha.

Because once, a boy named Kotoyorozu Kotoha had saved me in the middle of a storm.

(I might die out here. ...But it felt... good.)

At least I was standing in the right kind of light. Even if the road ahead led to death.

(I was going to keep living. Walk toward where my light shines.)

So I'd walk even if it killed me. I'd walk even if it killed me — that's what I decided. For me, it was an obligation. I'd been saved by a boy, and I absolutely had to keep living.

"Hah... hah..."

"...Hm?"

I noticed footsteps. I grabbed my gun immediately. But something was off. The footsteps belonged to just one person, and it sounded like they were dragging their feet. I swallowed hard and peered past the sand dunes.

"Hah... hah... hah."

"That's... — a girl."

What emerged from behind the dune was a small girl. White-haired. So thin she looked fragile, with green jewels clinking and jangling on her arms. She was utterly exhausted, barely breathing.

"...!"

The girl's legs gave out in the sand and she collapsed. I rushed over to her. About the same age as my daughter — probably the same age as Kotoha. I checked her breathing.

"You okay?"

"Ah... ah..."

She seemed severely dehydrated. Of course she was — out here in this desert with no supplies in sight. I weighed it. Saving her meant splitting my water and food in half. Crossing this vast desert alone was already going to be hard enough. But.

(Didn't even need to think about it.)

Just like what Kotoha had once done for me.

No matter what happened, I had to save this girl. So I gave her water.

"...Hah... hah... Thank you."

"Don't worry about it. More importantly — who are you? What are you doing out here?"

The girl seemed oddly troubled by my perfectly reasonable question.

"...Sorry. I don't remember anything."

"Nothing?"

"Why I'm here. Where I came from. Where I'm going."

The girl was wearing hospital clothes with a strange geometric pattern. I'd never seen anything like them.

"You don't remember anything at all?"

"My name and my purpose. Those are the only things I remember."

The girl murmured in a flat voice.

"I'm Elif Anatolia. ...I'm looking for... someone. ...Someone."

That's good, I thought. A name and a purpose. Those alone were enough. That was all a person truly needed — I even went as far as thinking that.

"Okay, Anatolia. Let's lay out the situation. We're in a desert, and I've got the mafia after me. You've lost your memory, but you're looking for someone. If you don't come with me, you'll die of thirst. But if you do, the mafia comes as a package deal. What do you want to do?"

Elif Anatolia — the white-haired girl — thought for a moment and answered.

"I want to go with you. Will you let me?"

"Of course. My journey is a road of atonement, after all. But it's going to be a hard road."

"I don't mind."

There wasn't a shred of hesitation in that girl. She was tough, I thought. She'd made her peace with things long ago. Even with nothing but a name and a purpose, beneath it all burned a terrifying amount of heat.

"I have to survive. I have to... meet that person. I don't even remember their name anymore. There's nothing left inside me. But I —"

"Yeah."

"I gave up on giving up. ...A long time ago, probably. Yearning for someone."

That'll do, I thought. Same as me. She'd make a good traveling companion. And somehow, for no real reason, I had a feeling I'd end up dying for this girl in the end. I couldn't explain it, but it felt like the right thing. It was... truly, nothing more than a gut feeling.

"I'm Rafael Garcia. Nice to meet you, Anatolia."

"...Nice to meet you, savior. I'll repay this debt without fail."

"Nah. I'm the one still repaying mine."

The girl tilted her head as if she didn't understand, but she didn't seem to mind and just nodded silently. God, is this what You call right? Losing everything, only to protect a single girl? You're saying that's a trial? If so, Your taste is the worst.

The worst — but the world You made is beautiful. That pissed me off.

— And so, they began to walk through the desert.

There was no road. No signpost. No light.

Clutching their meager belongings tight,

their footprints erased by the wind as they went.

To reclaim your name.