I, Matou Sakura, Third of the Flame-Chasers!

The fear that permeated the air in this world was so clear, so alluring in her eyes.

To carve out Sakura's flesh and blood, then to be stained by the fear of those people, it would surely be a delicious meal.

Her tongue, slowly brushing past Sakura's lips, painted a touch of brightness onto her slightly red mouth.

Makima saw it. The blade, glinting coldly under the light, was currently held in her master's hand.

"What are you going to do?"

A subconscious question. The devil hadn't noticed the fleeting emotion that flashed within the lively, beating heart at that moment.

"I'm going to cook."

Her innocent smile brought warmth to others, but Makima was a devil; she only felt a chill.

Seriously?

The innocent smile remained. Her master was looking at her, and the blade, reflecting herself and her master, looked exceptionally sharp.

It would be easy to cut through what they call life, wouldn't it?

Anticipation surfaced, and the coldness had already vanished.

A smile appeared on the devil wearing human skin.

And the monster wearing human skin quietly examined the kitchen knife in its hand and the ingredients it held.

She seemed to be contemplating where to start cutting to best preserve the so-called texture.

The next morning, Kiryu Aika slowly opened her eyes.

The familiar, all-too-familiar ceiling came into view. She stared blankly, feeling as though she had forgotten something.

Her gradually clearing consciousness and moving body brought intense soreness, especially her neck, as if it were broken.

"Did I sleep wrong?"

Kiryu Aika clutched her neck and gasped.

It hurt so much, it really hurt!

Why did it hurt so much!

She wanted to lie down, but her equally sore body erupted in even more intense pain with the slightest movement.

She almost jumped up from the sheer agony.

But then she suddenly realized the pain was lessening, as if with her movements?

What on earth had happened?

The girl still clutched her neck, fine beads of sweat constantly breaking out and trickling down from the intense pain, soon soaking her pajamas.

Speaking of which, why am I wearing these pajamas?

The pajamas were indeed hers, but they were last year's size. For her, whose body had developed further this year, they felt a bit tight.

Was I too tired last night?

She wanted to recall, but the feeling was like being hungover, unable to remember anything.

I should take a bath first...

The pain was subsiding. Although it still hurt, the feeling of her clothes sticking to her skin due to sweat was more unbearable than the pain.

She had a feeling that if she didn't wash her body properly, her clothes would stick to her skin.

What happened last night?

Her hand, which had been covering her neck, gradually lowered. Kiryu Aika, enduring the lingering pain, took off her clothes.

Her fair skin had a faint reddish afterglow. On her pale back, ugly blue and purple marks were gradually fading, but Kiryu Aika didn't notice this.

The pain was interfering with her will, making her feel completely dazed.

It might be better to lie down now, but she still walked towards the small bathroom.

The clean mirror reflected Kiryu Aika at that moment.

A twisted neck, a contorted face, an irregular body like a bizarre object pieced together by force.

But Kiryu Aika didn't see it. Dazed, she walked into the bathroom, turned on the shower, and cold water suddenly hit her body.

She didn't feel the cold at all, only that the pain all over her body was gradually dissipating under the rushing water. The relief from the pain was intoxicating.

She turned the handle and set the temperature to the lowest setting. Even colder water flowed from the shower, drenching Kiryu Aika's body.

A faint mist slowly rose, blurring the clean mirror.

Her consciousness was gradually clearing. The water gushing from the shower had stopped at some point.

Did I fall asleep?

She moved her stiff body, feeling nothing out of the ordinary.

She moved her still-dripping body until she stood before a clean mirror, seeing another self...

Sixty-nine, the Witch of Different Colors, Another Me

Outside the villa, within the Cave Heaven.

Makiri sat on a chair woven from controlled vines, her long right leg crossed over her left, cradling a sleeping little girl, Pernor, in her arms.

She knew Pernor was an adult, but she looked like a child, a so-called legal loli.

But there was nothing to be done about it; she just looked like a loli.

As the master's demon, or perhaps even the master's second heart, she naturally carried the scent of her master, Sakura.

Pernor liked that scent, so she ended up like this.

A vine from the vine-woven chair extended to bring her pastries from the table beside her.

Control wasn't limited to so-called living things; inanimate objects were also viable.

After all, in human society, all inanimate objects were things that could be freely utilized, used, and controlled.

However, doing so required a bit of skill.

"Miss Makima, this is your special blend."

The fresh air filled with a scent, a sweetness that was beyond Makima's reach.

A teacup with golden patterns, its pure white surface stained a vibrant red.

And that was where the sweetness, so profound to Makima, came from.

"Thank you, Chi."

The one who came today wasn't Belfast, so deeply cherished by Sakura.

As Sakura's demon, her second heart, it was normal for her to know some of her master's thoughts.

Chi, or rather, Asama Chi.

A living being Sakura had summoned from a card.

She had heterochromatic eyes and a figure that was practically indecent, hitting all of Sakura's preferences, but her inner self was surprisingly conservative, though that was merely an outward protection.

This child's understanding of desire was no less than that of the little one sleeping in her arms right now.

Taking the teacup from Asama Chi's hand, Makima gently stirred the bright red "black tea" within with her own finger.

This was a special blend only she could enjoy, a "dish" personally prepared by Sakura.

"Miss Makima, you should use a spoon!"

The cute girl, flustered, handed over a silver spoon, her body, tightly wrapped by her clothes, swaying along.

It was a bit dazzling...

Makima narrowed her eyes slightly and took the spoon offered by the little one.

Sakura liked this child, so she couldn't say anything.

But it was truly interesting; Sakura's "liking" was what people called love.

However, Sakura's love was unbearable for ordinary people.

Because you would never understand what love truly meant in Sakura's heart.

Promises made, betrayals in the blink of an eye.

Anything was possible.

All it took was enough pressure.

Sipping the black tea, which was sweet to her, her pink lips were also stained with that touch of crimson.

Her scarlet tongue licked gently, and the red stain vanished without a trace.

Asama Chi stood there, somewhat at a loss.

Although Sakura had granted her freedom, the right to choose the life she wanted, her choice was to simply stay by Sakura's side.

Sakura had agreed to her choice, but there was no follow-up.

Currently, Sakura had things to do, and even if she wanted to stay by Sakura's side, she needed the right opportunity.

Sister Belfast and Sister Longo-Minyad had both gone to help Sakura with her tasks. Within the entire Cave Heaven, only Miss Makima and the now-sleeping Pernor could be considered people she could talk to.

She found it difficult to speak when facing Miss Makima.

That cup of black tea was merely black tea called black tea.

She understood the truth of it all; she had witnessed it.

The flesh that was cut open, the blood that gushed out.

Just recalling it made her feel uneasy.

She didn't even know how she had managed to carry the black tea out of the villa, walk here, and then hand it to Miss Makima just now.

It was simple, yet difficult to recall.

"Aren't you going to sit down?"

Makima glanced at Asama Chi, who was standing there foolishly. Although she didn't particularly like this silly girl with her crude figure, Chi was Sakura's devil, and her personal feelings couldn't quite mask the influence she felt as Sakura's second heart.

She was Makima, but not Makima.

This body she currently inhabited was merely born from Sakura's imagination of her. The name Makima itself was the same.

The most undeniable fact about her was her nature as a devil.

Vines surged again, weaving a chair beside Makima.

She had made her choice directly; whether Asama Chi chose to sit or not was up to her.

Chi sat down, though she appeared quite stiff.

But Makima's lips curved upward, partly due to Asama Chi's choice, and partly because the seeds Sakura had planted were beginning to take root and sprout.

Kiryu Aika, let's see how far you can go.

Is this me?

Yes, this is you.

The real you.

Another voice echoed in her mind, identical to her own, the only difference being that this voice always carried a hint of playfulness.

Kiryu Aika clutched her mouth tightly, the physical pain momentarily overshadowed by immense shock.

That's me?!

It is you!