At the Reaper Mansion, thunder cracked.
Frank entered Leo's office and placed a letter on his desk.
Leo looked up, one brow raised. "What's this?"
"My resignation," Frank replied. "Please sign it, Boss."
Leo scoffed. "Have you gone crazy too? No. I won't."
Frank opened his mouth to argue—when the doors slammed open.
Everyone turned.
And there stood Akira.
Soaked in rain.
Dripping blood.
Eyes empty.
In his hand, an axe.
"Ah, my son…" Leo stood up with feigned concern. "What happened? Are you alright?"
He moved toward Akira, arms open in false warmth.
Akira didn't speak.
He swung.
THUMP.
The sound echoed through the mansion.
Leo's body took one step forward—headless—then dropped.
A scream rang out. Rose fainted on the spot. Yuke, Astra, Aoi, and Mickey froze in place, their minds unable to process what had just happened.
The guards drew their weapons—only to hesitate as Akira turned slowly, blood running down his face like tears.
He dropped the axe.
It hit the floor with a metallic clatter.
Then, calmly, he picked up Leo's severed head.
He held it close, whispering to the now-silent face.
"Tell me… how much was your fame worth? Hm?"
He leaned in further.
"I don't hear anything now. Why so quiet?"
The head slipped from his grasp and rolled away, stopping at Rose's feet.
Akira's knees buckled.
He fell to the floor, hands over his face, and screamed—a raw, broken sound that tore through the hall.
"AHHHHHH!!"
Yuke stepped forward slowly.
He knelt beside his brother and wrapped his arms around him.
Akira wept into his shoulder, clutching him tight.
"I lost this time, Yuke… "
Yuke closed his eyes, sorrow thick in his voice.
"Oh… Brother…"
---
Akira collapsed into Yuke's arms, sobbing like a child lost in the dark.
"I failed… everything is ruined…"
His voice broke—shaky, thin, barely holding together.
Yuke, holding his brother tightly, was crying too.
"But, Brother… you can't lose hope… He's still fighting, isn't he? He's still alive in that hospital, right?"
Akira's grip tightened.
"He is… but… the doctor said there's no hope. He said… coma or… or…"
His voice dissolved into quiet, strangled sobs.
Tears streamed down his cheeks, falling onto Yuke's shoulder like rain.
Then a soft voice, gentle as spring wind, called out from nearby.
"Akira…"
It was Astra.
He turned. Broken. Hollow.
"Mom…"
His voice was no louder than a whisper.
He reached out, crawling into his arms like a wounded animal, and he embraced him tightly.
Astra gently stroked his hair, wiping away the tears that wouldn't stop.
Akira's voice was soaked in sorrow as he buried his face in his chest.
"What have I done to deserve all this, Mom…? What crime did I commit?"
Astra shook his head slowly, tears brimming in his eyes.
"You did nothing wrong, honey… maybe… maybe it's just that luck wasn't on your side this time…"
He hugged him even tighter, as if trying to shield him from the cruel world outside.
—
The next morning, under the still-grey sky, the shrine was silent.
The gates opened.
Akira walked ahead, dressed in a simple black shirt and trousers, his eyes heavy with grief. Behind him, a sea of Reaper guards followed in matching black suits—silent, stoic, respectful.
They marched not as soldiers, but as mourners.
At the shrine, incense smoke drifted through the air like whispers from another world. Prayer chimes rang softly in the wind.
Aki's grandmother and mother had already arrived.
When Akira saw them, his steps faltered.
Then, slowly, he knelt before the old woman.
His head bowed so low it nearly touched the stone beneath her feet. His forehead pressed to the ground, trembling.
"I'm sorry, Grandma…"
His voice cracked.
"I failed to protect your grandson…"
Tears splashed against the ground.
Behind him, the hundred guards all bowed in unison, following their leader without hesitation.
The old woman's eyes filled with tears, her heart torn in too many pieces.
She gently touched Akira's head, her palm warm despite her trembling fingers.
"Raise your head, son… maybe this was his fate. It's not your fault…"
Akira stood slowly, his face still hidden, lips pressed into a trembling line. He turned away slightly, so they wouldn't see his tears.
The shrine bells chimed once more.
The prayer had been said—but no one walked away lighter.