Tomoya slumped into the driver’s seat, gripping the steering wheel as his mind spiraled. “Now what?” he muttered, his voice a mixture of self-loathing and panic.
He replayed the moment he handed the grimoire to Jess, realizing with mounting horror that he had fallen prey to Rener’s manipulations. His fists clenched as frustration overwhelmed him.
“You absolute idiot!” he berated himself, his voice echoing in the stillness of the car. “You trusted a demon. A demon! What the hell were you thinking?!” He kicked the floorboard like a petulant child, trying to vent the storm raging inside him.
He was still seething when a movement in the rearview mirror caught his eye. “Holy shit!” Tomoya nearly leaped out of his seat as he spotted Rener, lounging in the backseat as if he belonged there. His calm, unbothered demeanor only added fuel to Tomoya’s anger. “You!” he pointed accusingly, his voice trembling with disbelief and fury.
Rener’s dark eyes met his through the mirror, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear your tantrum,” the demon said, his voice smooth and unperturbed.
Tomoya bit back his immediate retort, forcing himself to settle back into his seat. His pulse hammered in his ears as he tried to compose himself. “I believe you owe me an explanation,” he growled, his voice low but steady. His gaze flickered to Rener’s reflection, barely masking his distrust.
Rener inclined his head slightly, as though amused by Tomoya’s newfound assertiveness. “Where would you like me to begin?” he asked, his tone light yet cryptic.
Tomoya hesitated. There were too many questions swirling in his mind, but he forced himself to start with the most pressing. “Why are you doing all this? What’s your angle? Demons don’t act without a price—what’s yours?”
Rener leaned forward slightly, his dark presence filling the car. “You’re right. I typically don’t,” he admitted, his lips curling into a faint smile. “But this time, the price is different. Let me ask you this: Do you remember what Takumi told you about me?”
Tomoya frowned, recalling a fragment of a story he had heard from his elder brother. “Something about you falling for an angel,” he said, his voice cautious. “But that doesn’t explain—”
Rener raised a hand, silencing him. “Not just an angel,” he corrected. “A fallen one now, thanks to her defiance. My lover, stripped of immortality, trapped in a frail human body. Her father, an archangel, gave me a deal: cut the ties between humans and the underworld, and I’d have a chance to restore her powers.”
Tomoya’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Cut ties? How is that even possible? Especially now, when I’ve just handed over a grimoire that could open doors?”
Rener’s expression darkened, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Do you really think I’d let that happen?” He raised his hand, and dark smoke began to swirl around his palm, coalescing into the familiar, ancient tome. The grimoire hovered in the air, exuding a faint aura of power as black tendrils wove around it. The sight was both mesmerizing and foreboding.
Tomoya stared in disbelief. “You mean—”
“The one Jess has is a forgery,” Rener confirmed, closing his hand with a snap. The grimoire vanished in a puff of smoke before materializing on the dashboard with an audible thud. “Don’t leave this lying around,” Rener admonished, his voice sharp.
Tomoya grabbed the book, flipping through its pages to confirm its authenticity. Relief mixed with frustration as he realized how close he had come to disaster. “So, what Jess has…?”
“An altered version,” Rener said, leaning back into the shadows. “Victor’s involvement complicates things. His binding may be weak, but he’s tethered to Saoirse—one of the most cunning demons of all. She’s an expert in enchantments, though her other senses are limited to sight and lust.”
Tomoya’s jaw dropped. “A succubus? Victor? What the hell—” He stopped himself, his mind reeling from the revelation. He didn’t care about Victor’s personal choices, but the implications were staggering.
Rener’s gaze turned cold. “Focus, Tomoya. Jess and Victor are pawns in a larger game, one orchestrated by forces far beyond their understanding."
Tomoya exhaled sharply, snapping his fingers as an idea struck him. He turned to his right, where Rener had materialized moments before, almost as if summoned by his thoughts.
The sudden appearance no longer startled him, not after the last few encounters. This time, he expected it.
“Now that we’re here, let’s clear something up,” Tomoya began, his tone laced with frustration and a hint of sarcasm. “Since you obviously want my cousin’s help and you’re using me as the middleman, how about explaining what the hell is actually going on?”
Rener’s sharp eyes flicked to him briefly before settling back ahead, his face impassive. “What exactly do you want to know?” he asked, his voice calm but evasive, as though guarding a deeper truth.
Tomoya hesitated, biting the inside of his cheek before speaking. “As you said. Jess, Victor, being pawns, this whole mess—it’s too well-connected to be a coincidence. You’re hiding something, and I want to know what.” His gaze was intense, demanding answers he feared Rener might withhold.
Rener, for his part, seemed to deliberate on the question. His silence stretched uncomfortably, and Tomoya could almost hear the gears turning in his mind.
“There are truths we otherworldly beings cannot simply hand over to mortals,” Rener finally said, his voice low and deliberate. “It’s not a matter of what I want to share but what I can share. There’s a balance to maintain, one that’s already precariously disrupted.”
Tomoya frowned. “Balance? You’ve broken more rules than I can count! Taking the detective back to the past, messing with timelines, all for some grimoire? Don’t talk to me about balance,” he shot back, his irritation bubbling over.
Rener let out a faint sigh, his gaze unwavering. “Precisely why I must tread carefully now. Every move I make risks unraveling things further. I’ve already altered the present by interfering this much. Guidance is all I can offer you now—nothing more, nothing less.”
The ambiguity of Rener’s words grated on Tomoya. He threw up his hands in exasperation. “Man, you could’ve just said, ‘No, I’m not telling you!’ instead of all that cryptic nonsense,” he grumbled, his eyes rolling so far back he swore he glimpsed the inside of his skull.
But Rener’s expression remained calm, his voice steady. “It’s not that I refuse to tell you even a little for the sake of clarity involving those people. I am simply bound by a promise—one made to someone I care deeply about. A promise that outweighs your frustrations, no matter how valid they might feel to you.”
Tomoya grimaced, his annoyance simmering beneath the surface. He couldn’t understand the weight of such a promise, nor did he particularly care to.
“Yeah, yeah, ‘true love’ and all that nonsense,” he muttered under his breath. “Why don’t you just pin that promise somewhere else and spill the truth for once?”
Rener’s lips twitched into a faint, humorless smile. “If only it were that simple,” he replied, his tone tinged with melancholy. “You misunderstand the nature of my choices. Every step I take, every word I speak, carries consequences. For you, for her, for everything, and I might fail—we might."
Tomoya slumped back into his seat, crossing his arms in defeat. He didn’t care much for lofty ideals of love or the cosmic consequences of Rener’s actions. What he wanted was clarity—a roadmap to navigate the chaos he found himself trapped in. Instead, all he received were riddles and half-truths.
The car fell silent for a moment, the air thick with unspoken tension. Finally, Tomoya let out a resigned sigh. “Fine. Keep your secrets. Just don’t expect me to sit around while everything burns down.”
Rener’s gaze softened, but his response was measured. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you, Tomoya. And that’s why, despite your frustrations, I chose to trust you.”
Tomoya scoffed at the irony, shaking his head. “Trust, huh? You’ve got a funny way of showing it.” He turned back in front. "Anyway, what time should I meet with the detective tomorrow night?"
Rener’s lips curled ever so slightly. “You’ll see soon enough.”
Tomoya’s brow twitched in irritation. “If that’s all you have to say, the door’s right there. Feel free to use it,” he retorted, gesturing dismissively toward the car door, fully aware of the futility of such an invitation. Rener, after all, could vanish into thin air or pass straight through the walls if he pleased.
With a faint smirk, Rener offered a parting shot. “Brace yourself for the worst.” Then, without another word, he dissolved into nothingness, leaving Tomoya frozen in disbelief.
A shiver ran down Tomoya’s spine. As chaotic as things had already become, hearing those ominous words from someone who clearly knew more than he let on made the gravity of the situation hit even harder. The creeping dread took root, tightening its grip on him.