~Scene Continues, Soutarou POV~
Her eyes moved toward the young woman and added, “She came today because she wanted to meet you.”
The young woman visibly swallowed.
“This is Mamako Takashina-san.”
‘Mamako?’
Soutarou’s eyes widened…
The fog briefly parted…
A title appeared in his mind.
A mother and her son entering another world together…
A ridiculously powerful mother whose ordinary attacks struck twice…
‘Mamako Oosuki.’
His gaze snapped back to the young woman.
‘So it is her.
No…
She looks younger, but that’s definitely her.
So am I in that world?
Did I reincarnate into the world of that mother-themed isekai anime?’
‘But why would I be living in Japan?
And who is Soutarou Takashina?’
The young woman slowly approached.
Every step appeared uncertain, as though she feared moving too quickly would frighten him away.
When she reached them, she crouched beside Nishimura.
Up close, she looked even younger.
Eighteen at the oldest.
Maybe nineteen.
Definitely not old enough to possess the confidence expected of a parent.
Her voice trembled as she said, “Hello, Soutarou-kun.
I’m Mamako.”
Soutarou continued staring at her and he unknowing let it slip, “Oosuki…?”
Mamako blinked and questioned, “Oosuki?”
The name produced nothing in her expression, instead only caused confusion.
Soutarou’s small brow furrowed and he this time knowingly questioned, “Mamako Oosuki?”
She glanced at Nishimura, who appeared equally uncertain.
Mamako then shook her head gently and she gently said, “No, Soutarou-kun.
My name is Mamako Takashina.”
Soutarou questioned, “Always?”
Mamako softly hummed questioningly, “Hm?”
Soutarou clarified, “Always…
Takashina?”
Her expression softened and she warmly acknowledged, “Yes.
I’ve always been a Takashina.”
‘Then she isn’t Mamako Oosuki.
She only looks like her?
Same face…
Same first name…
But she’s never been an Oosuki.’
The simplest answer was that this woman merely resembled a character he remembered.
Perhaps it was just an absurd coincidence…
But considerably less absurd than reincarnation.
Mamako folded her hands over her knees.
She explained gently, “Your father was my second cousin…
We weren’t very close…
But he was still family.”
Her eyes lowered as she warmly added, “And you’re family too.”
A complicated expression crossed her face.
Fear…
Uncertainty…
And beneath both, a rapidly growing resolve.
She sheepishly admitted, “I only started college recently…
I know I’m young, and I might make mistakes…
A lot of them, probably…”
Nishimura gave her an encouraging look.
Mamako looked directly into Soutarou’s eyes before she in an almost glowing halo said, “But I don’t want you to be alone.”
At that moment something inside her appeared to snap and the hesitation that had kept her at a distance since arriving finally collapsed beneath the sight of the tiny boy standing alone before his father’s memorial.
Her eyes filled with tears as she painedly said, “You’re only three…”
Her hands moved before her thoughts caught up, hovering near him without quite touching as she gazed into his freckled hazel golden eyes with an intense sorrow as she murmured, “You shouldn’t have to stand here all by yourself.”
Soutarou stared at those hands…
He understood the situation objectively…
A young woman he didn’t truly know was offering to abandon whatever ordinary college life she had planned…
To move into a dead distant relative’s home…
And raise his son.
It was reckless…
Emotionally driven…
Potentially life-changing for both of them.
He should’ve remained cautious…
He should’ve probably asked questions…
He should’ve observed her longer.
Instead, his tiny hand lifted…
And closed around one of hers.
Mamako froze.
Soutarou did as well.
He hadn’t consciously decided to move.
But the warmth of her hand reached through his palm, and for the first time since opening his eyes, the suffocating uncertainty inside his chest loosened.
Only slightly…
But it had loosened and so Mamako’s fingers slowly closed around his.
Soutarou swallowed.
His voice came out smaller than he intended, “I…
I don’t know where I am.”
Mamako’s expression crumbled…
Before Soutarou could react, she pulled him against her chest…
The embrace was careful for less than a second…
Then her maternal instincts surged into complete overdrive…
Her arms wrapped around him tightly, one hand cradling the back of his head while the other pressed him protectively against her.
She gently cooed, “It’s alright.”
She was crying now but she still tried to reassure him, “It’s alright, Soutarou-kun.”
‘I don’t think it is.’
She gently tousled his hair and whispered soothingly, “You don’t have to understand everything right now.”
‘That would’ve been helpful if could have.’
She continued, “You don’t have to be scared.”
‘I’m absolutely terrified.’
Her voice broke through his thoughts as warmth flooded his calculations and fears her voice like the first daylight of dawn, “I’ll be there.”
Her hand continued to gently stroked his hair as she firmly said, “I promise I’ll be there.”
Soutarou remained rigid within her arms…
One second passed…
Then another…
Before his forehead slowly sank against her shoulder.
The fabric of her dress became damp.
He didn’t know whether the tears belonged to the child whose father had died…
Or the person whose entire life had disappeared…
Perhaps they belonged to both…
Mamako only held him tighter…
…
That afternoon, Mamako Takashina agreed to become Soutarou’s guardian.
She would move into the house Haruto left behind and use the inheritance to maintain it while continuing her studies, but the details passed over Soutarou’s head…
Not because he couldn’t understand them, but because his mind had reached its limit…
He remembered leaving the funeral while holding Mamako’s hand.
He remembered refusing to let go of it inside the car.
He remembered Mamako noticing and pretending not to notice…
Even as a soft smile fought its way through her grief.
The following days passed within a haze.
Soutarou rarely spoke.
He ate when Mamako placed food before him…
Slept when exhaustion finally overcame him…
And silently followed her from room to room whenever the house became too quiet.
Mamako never complained.
When he woke in the middle of the night, she was there.
When he stared blankly at his father’s empty chair, she sat beside him.
When he instinctively grabbed the edge of her shirt as she prepared to leave for college paperwork, she immediately canceled whatever appointment she had planned and stayed home.
Within three days, she had memorized what foods he tolerated.
Within five, she had rearranged her class schedule around him.
Within a week, half of her belongings had migrated into the house, and the refrigerator was covered in handwritten reminders Soutarou still couldn’t read.
She fussed over him constantly…
Checked his temperature whenever he appeared too quiet…
Tucked blankets around him even when he wasn’t cold…
And watched him with such open concern that Soutarou found it increasingly difficult to maintain any emotional distance.
The woman might’ve possessed Mamako Oosuki’s face…
But she wasn’t a character.
She was Mamako Takashina…
An exhausted eighteen-year-old college student who burned breakfast twice in one week…
Who cried in the bathroom where she thought he couldn’t hear…
Who spent hours reading books about childcare…
And who hugged him each night as though afraid he would disappear too.
By the end of the second week, Soutarou no longer thought of her as Mamako Oosuki…
She was simply Mamako.
Mamako-nee, perhaps…
Though he hadn’t gathered the courage to call her that aloud yet.
And as the shock gradually faded, other fragments began returning…
The name of the town was Kuoh.
Kuoh…
A town on the outskirts of Tokyo.
A town containing an academy that would one day be attended by Devils.
Rias Gremory.
Sona Sitri.
Issei Hyoudou.
The Occult Research Club.
The Student Council.
The fog didn’t lift completely…
His former name remained gone…
The faces of his former family remained lost…
Entire portions of his old life were little more than impressions, yet for some reason stories returned with startling clarity.
Anime…
Manga…
Light novels…
Worlds that had once been fictional.
Soutarou lay awake one night, staring at the ceiling while Mamako slept beside him, one protective arm wrapped securely around his tiny body.
‘Kuoh…
Mamako-nee is strange…
But she isn’t Mamako Oosuki.
She’s never heard that name.
She’s a real person.
A coincidence.
Or someone who simply looks like her.’
His eyes narrowed.
‘Which means this is probably DxD.
High School DxD.
Dragonic Deus….
A world of Devils, Angels, Fallen Angels, Dragons, Gods…’
‘And an unbelievable number of things capable of easily killing me before I reach adulthood.’
Mamako shifted in her sleep and unconsciously pulled him closer.
Soutarou’s expression slowly softened.
‘I need to investigate my memories…
Why are the ordinary parts so blurred?
Why can I remember fiction better than my own name?
And why was I reborn here?’
He closed his eyes.
Those questions could wait.
For now, he had a new name.
Soutarou Takashina.
He had a home in Kuoh.
And he had someone beside him who had chosen to love him before he had done anything to deserve it.
His small fingers closed around Mamako’s sleeve.
‘First…
I survive.
Then I figure out what happened to me.
And after that…’
His grip tightened slightly.
‘I make sure nothing takes this life away from me.
Or Mamako-nee.’
For the first time since awakening in this world…
Soutarou slept without trouble.