“We clearly severed all ties long ago. Why is he still meddling in my affairs?”
Takumi's voice was sharp, laced with an unmistakable irritation, as he slammed a hand down onto the round table between them. The sound resonated through the quiet room, highlighting the tension that had hung since Tomoya arrived.
After his strange encounter with Rener, Tomoya had come to Takumi without delay to relay the archdemon’s unexpected proposition. Now, sitting across from his brother, he could see Takumi’s simmering resentment—a bitterness that seemed to have settled within him long ago.
Tomoya managed a wry smile. “I’d never know his true intentions,” he replied with a hint of sarcasm, leaning back in his chair. “But, whatever his motives are, we both know he genuinely cared for you once.” His tone softened as he finished, a subtle reminder of the past that even demons cannot erase.
Takumi froze, the sarcasm seeping from his own expression, replaced by something harder to decipher. His gaze flickered to Tomoya, and his breath caught before he spoke again, this time with the calm intensity of long-buried anger.
“Do you hear yourself, Tomoya? Have you forgotten what he did? Have you forgotten what happened?” The words were clipped, controlled, yet his eyes betrayed a glimpse of rage, raw and close to the surface.
Tomoya hesitated, the memories flickering in his own mind, yet some pieces remained hazy, clouded. “Yes, I remember...or, at least, some of it. But certain details… They’re blurred now, as if—”
“That's because he tried to erase them,” Takumi interrupted, the controlled anger in his voice deepening. “He tampered with our memories. He wanted us to forget.”
“Precisely,” Tomoya nodded, resolute. “Because he was trying to protect you, nii-san. You were meant to die back then. He was supposed to take your body and soul, but he didn’t. He spared you.”
Takumi’s expression shifted, and the rage dulled, replaced by a strange, unreadable sadness.
“No,” he replied, his voice dropping as he met his brother’s gaze, searching for something in his eyes. “He took the lives of those I cared for instead. That was his price.”
He paused, a shadow passing over his face. “I’m only grateful he allowed you to live…at the very least.”
A silence settled between them, thick with memories and unspoken thoughts. Tomoya felt the weight of the past hang over them, unrelenting. Rener had not left Takumi after the ruins of the Takahashi estate. In fact, he had stayed, lingering as a shadow at his side.
He had become a strange sort of companion, a silent guardian—almost a butler—due to a renewed contract with Takumi, one that had little to do with power and everything to do with desperation.
Rener had, in his own twisted way, helped rebuild what was left of the shattered family, guiding Takumi even into the realm of the underworld for one final meeting with his deceased parents. The cost, however, was steep: Takumi’s own body and soul as collateral that time.
Tomoya had struggled to understand this decision, even back then. Takumi, who had narrowly escaped Rener’s grip, had willingly re-entered a bond that would inevitably consume him. But Tomoya had been only a child and Takumi, too, too young to comprehend the complexity of such contracts or the hidden rules binding demons and humans alike.
Yet he could see how Rener had grown oddly attached, as if the demon saw something in Takumi worth sparing, worth preserving—even as he planned to claim him.
The situation shifted further when Takumi met Agatha after trying so many attempts to open a portal himself. Even with Rener's help, it was almost an impossible door to open.
Driven by the same sense of duty that had haunted him for years, Takumi and Rener gambled on using Samantha's connection with such a realm—something Rener had suspicions, but still chose to grab.
However, they had failed and Agatha disappeared. Takumi bore the blame for her loss, and his determination to find her burned brighter than he had with his parents. But this time, Rener refused to follow.
It was then Rener encountered a demon of unimaginable power—a creature capable of seizing human souls at will even with a slight connection. That time, Rener felt fear. Not for himself, but for Takumi. It was though he grew emotions after spending too much time with him.
It was the only time Rener had reneged on his contract with Takumi, realizing the inevitable futility of the pursuit. In a final act that surprised even himself, Rener chose to break the agreement and sever his bond with Takumi, offering him freedom, though not without a price.
True to his nature, Rener demanded a cost for his service: Takumi’s heart, a symbol of both loyalty and grief for all that had been lost which Takumi willingly surrendered.
As Tomoya gazed at Takumi now, he saw the toll this bargain had taken on his cousin, though neither would ever speak of it aloud. Takumi’s heart had already been lost once, but the weight of Rener’s final demand was a scar that neither time nor forgiveness could erase.
Tomoya took a deep breath, steeling himself before speaking. “So, what are we supposed to do?” he asked, his voice barely disguising his frustration.
“He told me to meet with the detective tomorrow night, and honestly, I think I should. She might misuse the information if we leave her to her own devices.”
He exhaled deeply, his gaze focused but troubled. The mere thought of a stranger meddling in matters so deeply connected to their past unnerved him. There was too much at stake to ignore Rener’s proposal.
Takumi barely stifled an exasperated groan, almost slapping his forehead in disbelief. “Of all people, why a detective?” he muttered, as though the idea were absurd on principle alone.
There was a tension in his voice, one that spoke to his annoyance as well as his distrust. Having a detective entangled in their affairs, especially one directed by Rener, seemed like an intrusion into a part of his life he’d rather forget. It grated on his every nerve to be reminded of a past he had fought to bury, and even more so to know it was Rener who had once again stirred the waters.
Tomoya couldn’t suppress a small chuckle as he added, “And someone connected to Zach, no less.” But the amusement didn’t last long; one withering glance from Takumi wiped the grin off his face.
The quiet between them spoke volumes about just how unwelcome Zach’s presence was, even through mere association. Tomoya shifted uncomfortably, reminded of the entangled web of their past—a web woven with secrets, betrayals, and far too much pain.
“I’m surprised Zach isn’t really hounding you for answers,” Tomoya remarked, a hint of a grin tugging at his lips, trying again to break through Takumi’s hardened exterior.
Takumi, however, remained stony, his face clouded as he spoke. “He has the information,” he muttered. “He’s figured out the pieces of what happened for sure. That man is as sharp as before. Damn that Rener."
The bitterness in his voice was palpable. If anyone could meddle so deeply and profoundly in their lives, it was Rener. To think that Rener might have allowed Zach to discover anything more than necessary was both unsettling and infuriating.
Tomoya sensed his cousin's frustration, and he felt an empathetic pang, choosing his words carefully.
“Then he should know you weren’t the culprit,” he said, his voice gentle but firm, unwilling to let Takumi dwell in the guilt that had lingered for years. “You were only a child back then. How could anyone think you could’ve…?”
His voice trailed off as Takumi, a pained look in his eyes, dropped into his chair, crossing his arms protectively.
“Just a child,” he whispered, his tone thick with bitterness. “How could I have wiped everyone dead in that manor?” His gaze dropped, shadowed by memories that Tomoya couldn’t touch.
At last, Takumi looked away, drawing himself into silence, as if his very soul needed the distance. After a long pause, he nodded, barely lifting his eyes.
“Fine. Do what you think is best. Just… let me have tonight,” he said, his voice almost inaudible. In the quiet that followed, Tomoya knew the night ahead would be long, as much for himself as for Takumi.
"Then I’ll see you tomorrow," Tomoya said, smiling as he stood, nodding once before stepping away from Takumi’s imposing home. He felt the night air cool his face as he made his way to his car.
With no particular plans for the night, he decided to make a quick stop at a gas station nearby. To his surprise, there was a line of vehicles despite the late hour, each driver waiting for their turn at the pump, headlights casting warm pools of light on the asphalt.
Settling back in his seat, Tomoya reached for the car’s touch screen, scrolling through his playlist until he found an old favorite: EXO’s Growl.
As the familiar beat filled the car, he let himself relax, tapping his fingers along to the rhythm. Singing softly with the lyrics, he felt some of the day's tension ease—until a movement outside caught his eye, pulling him from his thoughts.
On the opposite side of the station, a man stood beside a motorcycle, his back turned toward Tomoya. Something about the man’s stance seemed familiar, though Tomoya couldn’t immediately place him.
His curiosity deepened when he saw a woman emerge from the nearby convenience store, dressed head-to-toe in biker gear. Recognizing her as Kim, he watched as she walked over to the man by the bike, wrapping her arms around him in a familiar, almost possessive manner.
Tomoya squinted, his brows knitting in confusion. “Junel?” he muttered, but he quickly shook his head.
He’d seen Junel at the hospital often enough to recognize him, and this man didn't match. As if to confirm his suspicions, Kim tiptoed to kiss the man, who then turned slightly—just enough for Tomoya to get a good look at his face.
“Kaiser,” he whispered, barely containing his shock.
His mind raced as he processed the scene before him, especially knowing Kim and Junel were supposedly together.
Yet here they were, Kim and Kaiser, locked in an intimate moment under the station lights, their closeness unmistakable. Tomoya watched as they continued to share quiet laughter and exchanged glances that were far from casual.
As their motorcycle tank finally filled, Kaiser helped Kim onto the bike. With one last look around—one that seemed to glance Tomoya’s way, though probably unseeing—they sped off into the night, leaving Tomoya sitting alone with his thoughts, the song playing softly in the background as their tail lights faded into the distance.
Tomoya had intended for a quiet night, an uneventful one, but as he filled his gas tank, he found his car naturally steering toward the hospital. The idea of visiting Junel wasn’t something he’d consciously planned—it simply crept into his mind, leaving him feeling a subtle, inexplicable pity for Junel, a man he barely knew.
Perhaps it was the knowledge of what he’d seen at the gas station, of Kim with another man, that left him uneasy. As he drove, Tomoya grappled with a strange mix of emotions: guilt, empathy, and even a tinge of self-reflection.
The truth was, he wasn’t here out of friendship but out of a shared sentiment, the unspoken guilt of having kept Samantha at arm’s length even while he was casually entertaining others.
When he arrived at the hospital, Tomoya slipped in quietly, his mind drifting between his purpose and his hesitations.
He hadn’t planned on visiting Christian and Kathleen tonight, and yet, as he approached the ICU corridor, his thoughts wandered to them too, his steps slower than usual. Just as he was about to turn the corner, he came to an abrupt stop, freezing when he found himself face to face with Jess.
The encounter was unexpected, almost unsettling. He saw the shock in her eyes, but there was something more in her gaze—a flicker of recognition that mirrored his own.
“H-Hi,” Tomoya managed, his voice soft yet strained, as if afraid to disturb the quiet of the hospital hallway. He noticed the way Jess’s hand moved instinctively to her belly, a gesture both protective and vulnerable.
She looked tired, worn down by something unseen. He wondered if that weariness was why she hadn’t been recognizable to him until this very moment, as if she had hidden herself under layers of fatigue and silence. But now, as he looked into her eyes, there was a familiarity that couldn’t be ignored, something beyond mere coincidence.
Jess’s voice was barely a whisper. “H-Hello,” she replied, her gaze dropping to the floor as though searching for words there. “A-Are you here for your friends?”
The question felt like a shield, her way of avoiding the real reason for her hesitation. Tomoya blinked, surprised by the gentleness of her tone, almost as if she’d understood something about him before he had himself.
He hesitated, then nodded, not trusting himself to explain that he was there not out of friendship but out of some lingering sense of duty—a duty he couldn't quite define.
“Y-Yes, and I should better go. If I came in too late, Shane’s best friend will probably kill me,” he added, his tone light yet hollow, hoping to dodge any further questions.

He couldn’t tell Jess that he had come to ease his own conscience or that he’d stumbled upon the knowledge of Kim’s indiscretions with Kaiser.
He scratched the back of his head, mumbling a quick excuse, and turned to leave, his steps eager to escape the weight of the unspoken words between them. But before he could make it far, he heard her voice again, soft and tremulous.
“Tomoya.” Her voice carried a vulnerability he hadn’t heard before, and when he turned, her face was a mask of fear, confusion, and desperation. He saw her hesitate, every word she spoke a struggle against some invisible force.
“C-Can I t-talk to y-you?” she stammered, her voice barely a whisper, as if afraid the walls themselves might betray her. Tomoya felt a pang of curiosity and concern, yet also an unsettling prickle of doubt. “About what?” he managed, his words cautious.
Jess’s gaze met his, and in her eyes, he glimpsed a wariness laced with desperation. Her words were barely audible, but when they came, they left him stunned.
"A-About Samantha’s grimoire.” Tomoya’s heart seemed to stop, a chill creeping through his nerves. The weight of her statement sank in, her knowledge of the grimoire casting shadows over his every thought.
He had never spoken to her about Samantha’s grimoire, nor had he shared its significance with anyone outside his circle.
How could Jess know of something so deeply hidden?