Chapter Text
“Koumei! Don’t leave us.”
It was an image new to his eyes, but a feeling that was familiar. Coming his way was death once again, albeit this time it wore different clothes. He was thankfully surrounded not by blood and the bodies of fallen comrades, but instead he found himself in the company of those he’d met through the course of his second life, laying on the comfort of a hospital bed.
“Eiko-san *cough*” Koume extended his frail, old hand, attempting to caress her face for the last time. “You’ve come so far.”
About a month ago, Eiko accomplished what had once seemed impossible. She managed to perform at the world-renowned Summer Sonia festival. Everyone who tuned in got their hearts touched by the wonderful singing of the one and only Eiko.
Koumei’s dream, and therefore his mission, was a success.
At that moment, the room’s door opened. Nanami came in.
“Koumei-san, Eiko, sorry I’m…” Nanami wanted to apologize for being late. She had been told by Eiko about Koumei suddenly being taken to the hospital. However, her eyes were not prepared for the sight in front of her. An old man with a white beard and hair, his skin adorned by the wrinkles one would accumulate across an entire lifetime.
Reacting to Nanami’s understandable shock, Kobayashi explained the situation to her, “A couple of days ago, Koumei started aging rapidly. And today, we had to bring him here, desperately.”
Nanami approached Eiko, whose face was covered in a mantle of tears. She wrapped her arms around her body, wanting to be there for her girlfriend during such a painful moment.
It was then she heard a gruff voice, “Nanami-san, be there for Eiko *cough*”
At this point, Koumei’s voice had deteriorated to the point of being near-impossible to comprehend. Regardless, Nanami, whose shoulder was now being cried on by Eiko, stared directly at Koumei’s eyes, and replied, “I will… I promise.”
Koumei’s strength was about to fully vanish. It was now or never. The last words to the rest of his friends needed to be let out into the wind, or else they’d remain trapped for all eternity in his soulless corpse. “Kobayashi-san, it was an honor to talk strategy with you. And Kabe-san, I’m glad I could help you.”
Kabetaijin let out a few small tears, but managed to remain compossed. By contrast, Owner Kobayashi broke down, dreading having to see his idol go.
Last, but certainly not least, Koumei aimed his sight on Eiko, and simply said, “Eiko-san… thank you…”
“KOUMEI!”
A combination of his heart monitor announcing the end of his life and Eiko’s scream would be the last sound to enter the dying tactician’s ears. For a second, all that would remain of the man would be his brilliant mind, which found itself in thought as the shadow of death drew ever closer.
Oh God, my soul is yours
Last time he’d died, Koumei’s dying wish was a simple one— to be reborn in a peaceful world, where his life would not be spent warring and killing. Whether through luck or some form of divine intervention, his wish had come true. Even if only for a short while, he had been granted the opportunity to experience such a world.
He was a dying man, but one left without regrets. What awaited his soul, he did not know. But whatever fate had in store for him, he would accept it wholeheartedly. He could not complain to any force above, for it’d been nothing but kind to him.
And thus, he was finally dragged away from his mortal coil by death’s cold hands, his mind finally shutting down.
—----
“SELF CONTROL!”
In less than what it takes a human mind to process a thought, Koumei found himself opening his eyes yet again. It was not a place he had a record of; his surroundings were dark, with only his front being illuminated by stage lights. He was seated, surrounded by people of many different ages, all members of the audience, who screamed in support of the two girls who’d just finished their performance.
“That was: Saint Snow,” said an announcer’s voice, “Now introducing School Idol Group: Aqours!”
Idol? So this is some sort of Idol performance? pondered Koumei, stroking his chin. He remembered his experiences with Idol groups from his past life. They were often soulless, factory-made performers, their music composed by executives as much as by musicians. He did not expect much, but decided to sit back and enjoy the show anyways.
To his shock, arriving on stage were six girls of high school age, wearing outfits that, albeit pretty, were clearly homemade. The performance started, and it went nothing like what the great strategist had anticipated.
Their dancing was amateurish and disorganized.
Their singing was off-key and at points hard to stomach.
The lyrics were a bit corny.
But captured on stage was a sense of passion that captured Koumei’s soul immediately, just as Eiko had done once before.
Aqours was the last group to perform. After they were done, the whole theatre left, Koumei included. Now surrounded by light, he could clearly look at himself. His youth had returned to him, his hair black and his back in a good state. He certainly appreciated getting to live once more, but he couldn’t help but wonder why would he be allowed to continue to walk on this Earth. Was this all some sort of plan from God?
An answer to that question would be provided to him soon, in a perhaps unexpected place.
“Zero,” murmured a feminine voice.
Koumei heard it and turned to look at its source. It was the orange-haired leader of Aqours, who seemed to be staring at a piece of paper she held firmly within her hands, her eyes having sorrow written all over them.
“Not a single person voted for us?” added the redhead.
All of them appeared as if their joy had been drained out of their bodies, long faces abounding.
Unable to hide his pity for them anymore, he approached them and said, “Excuse me, are the lot of you by any chance the members of Aqours.” They all stared at him, thrown off by his colorful clothing and antiquated speech pattern.
With her head down, the leader answered, “Y—Yes,” stumbling over her words.
Koumei noted the lack of conviction in her voice. This gave him even further incentive to deliver some praise at her shoulders. “I just wanted to say your performance reached the deepest corners of my heart.”
“T—thanks,” she muttered. It was clear his words just came across as faint praise, regardless of them being meant with honesty.
“If you want to reach the highest of heavens, feel free to talk to me, Koumei!” he added in a boastful tone. He had understood his role in this story. He had to help these girls fulfill their dreams. He was sure that was the duty God had entrusted him. “I shall be your strategist.”
The entirety of Aqours exchanged gazes in confusion. Eventually, the one of pink hair broke the silence, “Koumei? Hanamaru-san, isn’t that the name of one of the characters from that book you like so much?”
“Well yes,” whispered the girl of light-brown hair, who responded to the name of Hanamaru, “but he was from Ancient China. I guess this is a cosplayer or something.”
“You’d be incorrect there. You can find me in a shop here in Tokyo, and I can talk about all of my accomplishments to show you I’m the one and only general.” As soon as he finished saying that, Koumei’s eyes opened wide. He just realized that he was still unsure of how this reincarnation worked precisely. For all he knew, he was no longer friends with the people from the bar—and even if they remembered him, they’d probably freak out at seeing a dead man walking.
“Maybe he’s a demon just like me, the Fallen Angel Yohane,” said the girl of blue hair, striking a fancy pose.
“Whatever you said, Yoshiko-chan,” said Hanamaru, placing her hand over Yoshiko’s mouth.
"IT'S YOHANE!" corrected Yoshiko, her shout being ignored entirely.
“Unfortunately, we are not from here. We need to return to Numazu.”
“Oh, I see. Very well, I guess I need to leave.”
Having said that, Koumei turned around and walked away. Wasting no time, he put his palms on his pockets. Amazingly, he had both his phone and money from his previous life. He immediately looked for a source of Wi-Fi and got to task searching information about what this Aqours group was.
“Uhmmm, School Idols, huh?” he said out loud, now sitting in a bar. During his previous life, he’d never heard of such a concept. Simple at first glance, idols that go to school. At the same time, however, this meant they were not glued to the restrictions of the idol industry. It was common for them to participate in a competition known as Love Live, but it was by no means a requirement.
He knew exactly what his next course of action was, but the time was to put it into motion was not yet upon him. There remained one important Google search he needed to make. He inserted the words “Eiko Tsukimi” into the search bar. The results were surprising.
“Singer Eiko Tsukimi and her girlfriend Nanami Kuon on tour.”
It was not clear to him whether this was a different timeline of some sort, or if this was the future, but in any case, he could rest assured Eiko did not currently need him. Right now, there was a group of girls who needed his intelligence more than anyone.
Thus he took a taxi to the nearest train station. Once there, he took out his wallet and bought a ticket to the seaside town of Numazu.