“AAAAAHHHH!”
An indescribable surge of pain exploded from his shoulder.
Driven by the kinetic impact of the bullet, Shido’s entire body collapsed backward, fresh blood seeping continuously between his tightly clutching fingers.
“…!”
For reasons unknown, Shido’s agonizing shriek caused Shiratori’s body to shudder violently.
She staggered back several paces, glancing first at the bullet generated from her right hand, then at Shido collapsed on the floor, and finally at his bleeding wound with a face of utter disbelief.
The action just now had been executed purely on instinct.
Acting on impulse, she had materialized the bullet and discharged it without a second’s hesitation.
Fortunately, she hadn’t fired off a full volley.
Shiratori immediately dispersed the Reiryoku in her hands, her mind racing to reconstruct the events that had just unfolded.
“How strange…
I have never experienced a ‘misfire’ like this before.”
The very next instant, as if realizing something, she began to whisper under her breath.
“Impulsivity…
Is this what impulse-driven emotional behavior feels like?”
That was indeed the answer.
Shiratori had genuinely been infuriated.
Because someone had actually admired a creation of war and praised it to her face.
Utterly unreasonable…
In that moment, Shiratori’s sole intent had been to force Shido to experience firsthand just how brutal the things he claimed to like truly were, even if not through such direct violence.
Yet she had wanted to do it.
Thus, she abandoned any thought of apologizing, even harboring a subtle, malicious sense of satisfaction at his plight.
Still, it all felt like an subconscious knee-jerk reaction.
The entire episode lacked tangible reality, feeling almost like a dream—except the blood staining Shido’s shoulder was unmistakably real, confirming it was no illusion.
Shifting her gaze toward Shido as he endured the agonizing pain, Shiratori let out a faint sigh.
“…It seems I have felt something, though the execution was somewhat extreme.”
After a brief pause, Shiratori retroactively covered for her earlier words:
“By the way, whoever is wiretapping me through his earpiece, please don’t overthink this.
I merely wanted him to experience it firsthand and bear no actual malice, so I believe our negotiations can still proceed.”
[…]
Silence met her from the other end of the comms line—an implicit agreement.
“Let me wrap up your wound first…
I suppose.”
“Eh?”
Intending to check the severity of Shido’s injury, the sight that met Shiratori’s eyes thoroughly bewildered her.
She rubbed her eyes, but the scene remained unchanged.
Flames—flames of unknown origin were burning atop Shido’s shoulder.
Moreover, those flames weren’t scorching Shido’s skin; instead, they were actively healing him, restoring the bleeding wound as if they were the legendary flames of a phoenix.
Shiratori’s prior suspicion was now fully confirmed: this high school youth, Itsuka Shido, undeniably carried a profound secret.
Combining probing intent with pure curiosity, Shiratori stepped closer to Shido.
“Ah, that thing…
you don’t really need to mind it.
It just heals my injuries, that’s all.”
Although Shido had experienced these ‘healing flames’ before, he had no grasp of their underlying principle, nor did he know where they originated from.
Naturally, he couldn’t answer the question.
Recognizing that he was equally clueless about the flames, Shiratori abandoned the topic and pivoted elsewhere.
“Then let us get straight to the point.
Shido, state your true identity.”
“Oho, looks like she’s acknowledged you a bit more.”
Noticing that Shiratori had dropped his surname, Kotori nodded in satisfaction.
“However, Shiratori’s emotional metrics have merely reverted to their baseline; her affection level hasn’t increased at all.
How strange…
by logic, there should have been some fluctuation.”
It was indeed bizarre—the affection rating that had crashed to zero suddenly bounced back and remained solidly fixed at that exact figure.
Still, this session had been a massive miscalculation.
The selected option had infuriated the Spirit to the point of threatening Shido’s life, leaving the team utterly overwhelmed by how sideways things had gone.
Fortunately, the Spirit had regained her composure and even offered to continue negotiations.
“Shido, the rest is up to you.
Deliver your own answer.”
Kotori spoke while licking her Chupa Chups lollipop.
The bridge crew, who had already prepped the next round of options, cast bewildered looks at Kotori, but she simply ignored them.
[Deliver your own answer.]
“Yeah, I will.”
Shido locked eyes with Shiratori.
“I am Itsuka Shido, an ordinary high school student.
I came here to save Yoshino and you.
I don’t want to see others trapped in despair, so I hope I can save you both.”
“…I don’t understand.
I don’t believe I am in any state of despair.”
“Then why do you always wear that completely unchanging expression?!
Does nothing in this world move your heart even a little?!”
“Does what happened just now not count?”
Shiratori could not comprehend his words.
She had indeed experienced several distinct emotions by now, but she hadn’t understood them, nor did she possess the framework to do so.
To use an analogy: she knew the end result, but could not process the underlying journey.
Consequently, her path of emotional exploration yielded only temporary experiences without actually integrating those feelings into her core persona.
“No!
Just now, I was merely trying to see if I could make you happy, but I am sorry for sparking your anger instead.
That’s why I will show you what true emotion feels like!
Indeed, while Shiratori despised war machines and those who romanticized war, taking human life was something she had long grown accustomed to.
Aside from those two specific triggers, her internal state remained placid through almost everything else.
“That composure of mine…
is it numbness?”
Shiratori tilted her head in confusion.
“Yes!
So promise me!
I will help you find—”
“I refuse.”
“…!”
Their eyes locked.
Shido clearly wanted to press the issue, but Kotori held him back over the comms, leaving him no choice but to stare.
After a moment of silence, Shiratori turned around and looked out the window at the sky.
“Today’s weather is overcast, likely due to Yoshino’s influence.”
Casting a glance at the sleeping Yoshino, Shiratori pushed open a window and sat upon the sill.
A cool breeze gently rustled the hair near her ears.
Bathed in backlighting, her silhouette appeared as though enveloped in shadows, yet somehow exuded a fragile, sickly beauty.
Shido held his breath.
Even though her words seemed trivial, he listened with absolute seriousness.
“You are far too foolish, far too naive, far too childish, and far too selfish.”
What followed was a ruthless critique.
“I am Shiratori—a being that places supreme priority on security.
Were I not actively negotiating with you, I wouldn’t grant you even a shred of trust.”
Hearing a statement that felt like the end of the world, Shido’s clenched fists dropped listlessly to his sides.
“Go.
I will keep a closer eye on you from now on.
Don’t worry, I won’t harm you—but if you ever dare hurt my fellow Spirits, I will use a neutron cannon to blast you into another realm.”
“First, complete what Yoshino entrusted to you.
I will stay here and watch the clouds for a while.”
Using Reiryoku, Shiratori levitated her unfinished cup of black tea off the table and into her grip.
Her eyes remained fixed out the window, ignoring anything further Shido tried to say.
Under Kotori’s insistence, Shido had no choice but to scoop up Yoshino and bid farewell to Shiratori’s villa.
In truth, Shiratori had already mapped out her next steps: she wanted to observe what Shido intended to do with Yoshino.
However, his offer to help her understand emotions had come as a genuine surprise.
Taking a small sip of black tea, Shiratori extended her legs into a comfortable posture.
Watching the figures of the two depart into the distance, she uttered with subtle depth:
“Emotions must be comprehended on one’s own.
Feelings granted by others will only turn one into a puppet of their thoughts.”