Haga Kyosuke looked down from above at the pitiful, pathetic old man curled into a ball. He closed the two violin cases in his hands, his expression neither sad nor happy—almost bored.
This was his last enemy. Perhaps he was not dead yet, but Kyosuke was in no hurry.
Even if Ichiro Shitara made it through tonight, his body had long been on the verge of collapse. He had only half a year left to live, and now everything he had pursued had fallen apart.
If Ichiro Shitara managed to hold on, that would not be bad either. Kyosuke wanted to see how someone who had been forceful and vicious all his life would face his final, lonely, joyless days.
His revenge should have ended here, yet he felt no joy, only a faint sorrow.
In the end, was it still such a shallow desire?
These people—other than this ill-gotten violin—had they truly desired nothing else in their lives? Had they treasured nothing else?
Haga Kyosuke closed his eyes. Amid the screams around him, Setsura Renki's sobs, and the more concealed whispers, he heard the melody of the Requiem once again.
He felt sad, but he did not know for whom.
Perhaps it was not for this pathetic family, but for the Stradivarius in his arms, its brilliance buried beneath dust.
He closed his eyes completely and, accompanied by the melody, sank into a deep, dark sleep as well.
"Hey, hey, why did someone faint over here too...?"
"Get him over there first. Be careful with the violin in his arms..."
"Do you think what happened tonight might have been him...?"
"Quiet."
"His willpower was pretty strong." Asai Narumi combed the differently colored hair beside her cheek with her fingers and murmured, "Using his ability like that, yet holding on