In a girl's room, the door opened and without turning on the lights, she collapsed directly onto her soft bed.
"Haah, I don't get it…"
A sigh-like voice slipped from the girl's lips. The one thing she couldn't understand was the discrepancy in timelines between the two worlds.
In the ancient era of the other world, it had yet to make contact with Earth, and there was a complete separation between them.
So, it was impossible for someone from Earth to have traveled there.
Moreover, that period on Earth was also part of the ancient era—it shouldn't have had anything resembling modern otaku culture.
Yet the contradiction appeared exactly there: it was clear the Demon King had been influenced by Earth's modern culture.
Sitting up, she turned on her computer and immediately searched through an encyclopedia—"figure." After entering a major figure-selling website, Megumi began browsing through the many anime-style figures listed there.
"Waaah, so expensive!"
She gasped in surprise at some of the price tags.
It was hard to believe those tiny Nendoroids were often much more expensive than the dolls girls usually liked. Some of them were in the millions! She just couldn't understand why boys liked this kind of thing so much.
As she continued scrolling down the page, she suddenly froze.
Her gaze landed on a figure of an elf. There was no mistaking it—it matched exactly the memory image shown to her by Miss Lucoa.
The Demon King was said to enjoy abducting beautiful human or elf women and turning them into dolls—and this figure aligned with that idea perfectly.
"This one too…"
With all these clues, it had become certain—they were the same person.
"To think, the great Demon King… is now just a plain old high schooler with otaku traits?"
"That's really hard to believe, Kiryu Yazuki."
"Did he even stage his own disappearance? To cut ties with the past and avoid being disturbed? Wanting a peaceful life, maybe?"
Supporting her chin with her hand, Megumi muttered these guesses to herself. Honestly, it didn't seem like something she'd usually say. It felt a bit too deliberate, like she was trying to convince herself.
Suddenly, a faint breeze brushed against her back. But the window was closed. Where did the wind come from? It felt more like someone had passed by her, stirring the air enough to brush against her.
…
On a rooftop, a figure with long, wavy golden hair raised her head to look at the newly revealed moon in the sky.
Her eyes, which had been squinting, slowly opened—one green, the other a deep yellowish hue.
"Kiryu Yazuki, huh?"
So those times when the Demon King had stared off into the distance in the other world… he had been gazing toward this world all along?
She always felt he wasn't very attached to the other world—turns out he was missing this one?
Although the difference in eras between the two worlds remained a mystery, this world must be the Demon King's true home.
"Haah~"
The golden-haired beauty with sleepy-looking eyes sighed in frustration, not knowing what to do.
She wanted to say "Thank you" and "I'm sorry" to the Demon King, to make up for all the regrets she'd carried until now. And now, she had the chance to do so—but she was torn, worried about disturbing the peaceful life he'd finally found.
Just like the dazzling divine judgment light that severed him from his past, he did it to ensure nothing from before could reach him.
If that was the case, then she shouldn't interfere either.
"…But, now he's a human high schooler with otaku habits? I really want to see what that's like."
The golden-haired beauty propped her chin in her hand, visibly curious.
She couldn't match that image with the Demon King she remembered—it was too big a contrast.
Back then, just how had she been treated by him? She was nearly pushed into opening the doors of a whole new world.
So frustrating~~~~
Maybe… she could just watch him from afar? As long as she didn't make contact, it'd be fine, right?
…
At a high-end apartment.
Someone had already carefully sealed away the swapped item.
Don't get the wrong idea. He wasn't a pervert or anything. He absolutely wasn't saving it to sniff used socks or panties or anything weird like that.
Absolutely not.
To emphasize—absolutely not.
He only kept it as evidence, so that when the masks were finally off on both sides, he could use it as leverage.
Just like in some doujin plots—except, that's a lie.
Of course, it was only so he could embarrass the gentle senpai and make her cry from shame, unable to show her face again.
Luckily, he had properly disguised himself back then. Otherwise, it would've been the same as handing her dirt on him—she wouldn't hold back on her verbal poison, no doubt.
Such a shame about that school swimsuit maid outfit… wasted just like that. With Utaha's personality, she probably threw it away the moment she realized something was off.
Come to think of it, once she realized her item had been switched, Utaha probably panicked hard.
He could just picture that dummy now, anxiously pacing, thinking about what the pervert who had her stuff might do with it.
As her thoughts spiraled, her face would go pale, and eventually, she'd huddle in a corner, hugging herself pitifully from the horror.
So entertaining.
Wait, in a way, the "disgusting pervert" she was imagining… was him, wasn't it?
And he was imagining her imagining him… Doesn't that just make himself the disgusting pervert in the end?
(T/N: Glad you know buddy, glad you know....)
Slapping his face, he snapped himself back to reality. He saw Ikaros tilting her cute head in confusion, looking at him. He reached out and gently patted her head.
Now then, time to get back to drawing.
He was currently deep into recreating that emotionally healing—or rather, soul-crushing—masterpiece from his memories. Ikaros was quietly helping from across the table, filling in some dark areas.
Yes, this Ikaros was that Ikaros.
There was no need to go out of his way to show her how much he cared about her.
Instead, he just let her be part of his life space. She was simply a natural part of his world.
No boundaries, no pressure—this was just how things were meant to be. She was part of this home.
Part of this home…?
Unintentionally, a stern figure flashed through his mind. Then, another one—a gentle, pale smile. It left him speechless.
"Master?"
"It's nothing."
And then… Ikaros patted his head.
That kind of gesture nearly triggered the dangerous thoughts he had tried to suppress upon first returning to this world.
This world had its own laws and order. He shouldn't try to twist everything. In the end, things might not go the way he hoped.
Come to think of it… that falling out between him and that person—was it really more like a childish spat?
Two people with clashing personalities, neither willing to lower their pride, so they just never reached out to each other again.
Should he be the one to take a step back?
No way!!!
Ugh, annoying. Better to just lose himself in drawing again.
Suddenly, a chill ran down his spine.
He felt a heavy, almost sticky sense of grievance—as if someone was missing him.
The emotion was so strong it felt like it might break through the heavens, giving him a creepy shiver.
And just then, the doorbell rang.