An ominous-looking armored black truck stopped at the grassy clearing. It wasn’t far from town, and it was high enough to see the entire city with the ocean in the background. Near the other set of mountains, the picturesque ruins of a wall from a former castle can be seen.

It was after midday, and the azure sky and blazing sun illuminated the lush ground under the sun. The air was clean and refreshing.

A few suspicious cars stood in the open, grassy clearing. They were waiting for someone, as they were not moving. But it wasn’t the car for which they had waited. The hardened man’s insides tensed as they sensed a strange aura that emanated from the black truck.

Their eyes focused on that vehicle, and their hearts pounded with anticipation.

The driver’s door opened, and a black-haired man wearing rectangular glasses stepped out of the truck. He was wearing a full set of motorcycle armor in black matte, except for the helmet. His outfit was so dark that he appeared like a shadow, which made him stand out even more. Is he a member of the Association? Every man inside the cars thought that.

A drop of sweat fell from the chin of the man with glasses as he stretched a little. He then adjusted his glasses and glanced at the cars. The one man with the three scars on his face, who was sitting in the front passenger seat of the nearest car, was excluding a slight aura of bloodlust while staring at the suspicious man with his gun ready. They crossed their gazes with each other, and the man with three scars gave him an intimidating glare. As soon as he did that, the scarred man screamed and was knocked unconscious. The other three reacted by averting their eyes and looking away. Their leader feared this mysterious man.

“Who the hell is he? The Association didn’t have a man like that!”

A nervous driver, who was close to the unconscious man, told himself. The truck driver glanced over them, displaying the ominous sign ‘don’t bother me.’ He then took out a smartphone from his utility belt and dialed a number.

They didn’t overhear the conversation because the man was murmuring, and only the words ‘delivery, shrine, school’ were distinctly heard because they were declared with uncertainty.

The truck driver then got into his truck, reversed to the road, and sped up away from the clearing, leaving the thugs behind. They called their boss and informed him of the specific situation. After that, they waited for two hours for the one they were waiting for to arrive. He was late, but his arrival was imminent.

***

A red-haired boy sat in the ‘A-1’ classroom of Tottori Private High School for Gifted Youths, watching as the lone cloud passed through the blue sky. His standard uniform was unkempt, and his hair was spiky. The teacher was saying something while scribbling formulas on the blackboard. But he didn’t listen to him. He was a delinquent, and he was ignoring the teacher. He was thinking about something else. Something that had nothing to do with formulas.

Homura Suiden was the name of Kagutsuchi’s reincarnation—or rather, its vessel.

Following the Great One’s divine blockade, which caused all the highest beings to lose their local divinity, their bodies became mortal once again.

After death, their eternal souls cannot return to the gods’ realm because their souls are too powerful. As a result, the soul enters the ‘Reincarnation Cycle'®, where the world itself purifies souls that have fallen into the cycle. That process has been happening since ancient times and will continue until the world ends.

Former gods’ souls go through the same process, but because their souls are too powerful, their outer layer is purified while their soul core is left intact. The inside of a soul's core is a mystery; however, it is recognized that it stores their personality, body shape, affinity and ability source, and memories, access to which is limited to reincarnation. However, the reason that happens is still unknown. The most popular theory was that it was the difference in their power.

That is why, when a god dies in this world, they will reincarnate as a human in a new body.

The reincarnations, or the proper term, vessels, could force the unconscious memories to unlock. It is usually unlocked by a vessel’s emotions rather than by the soul core itself. However, it would merely cause the vessel to keep the personality of an original self and knowledge prior to the intervention of the Great One, as if ‘possessed’. Which is strange. How could you possess yourself? The soul scientists, prohibited in the 136 countries with Association power, are still looking for an answer.

The souls that do not have their memory unlocked because of interference (such as being possessed) are known as ‘unconscious vessels’. These unconscious vessels would eventually be purged from this world, and their souls would be absorbed back into the world, making the reincarnation cycle complete.

The burly teacher explained this, albeit in a simplified form, and continued writing on the blackboard. He was the Association’s professor and taught them about their abilities today. The principal agreed to grant permission after the class’s lessons. If only Homura had listened to it, he might have had a more proper understanding of his key problem. His issue is that anger is the key emotion that causes the original Kagutsuchi’s unique personality to emerge. His soul core reacts to everything around him. After all, he’s in school, and things happen. His personality manifests itself in his own way, and his emotions cause his soul core to react.

It had a ruthless, fiery personality and wanted to fight everyone. It’s close to Homura’s personality, but it’s been shaped to be more harmless by his affectionate family and the modern world alike.

However, his conscious mind couldn’t control his subconscious mind. There’s nothing he can do about that.

Despite losing their divinity, the former gods could harness their powers, albeit to a much lesser extent. Kagutsuchi’s infinitely long-lasting fire could now only burn for a short period. And because the vessel needed to learn how to wield it, this school was born. It was a precautionary measure implemented to reduce the possibility of global destruction.

Many boys and girls his age sat in their seats in the modern classroom, which was silent because of the scary-looking teacher. Their hair color is distinct, and they each have their own quirks and unique personalities. Some were direct descendants of long-dead former gods who received their inheritance; others were vessels like him; and others came from another plane entirely.

As in the girl’s case in the first row. The elected president of a class was dressed in the typical summer high school uniform, with little strings of sparkling water flowing between her marine blue hair. She was a powerful water spirit who lived for countless thousands of years as a goddess in an underwater paradise, and she had been reincarnated as an ordinary high schooler with a strong affinity for water. She is a beautiful young lady with an elegant aura.

And Homura despised her; no, the Kagutsuchi within him despised her. Homura knew why, so he vented his helpless rage by staring out the window.

His phone abruptly rang, breaking his train of thought. He pulled out his smartphone from his pocket and asked the teacher to excuse him. The teacher nodded as he wrote something on the blackboard and returned to teaching the class. He walked out of the classroom, near the windows, and answered the call with a bitter expression.

“Hello?”

“Hello. Is this the recipient code ‘Kagu-tsuchi’ I’m addressing?”

Homura coughed and lowered his voice, attempting to make it sound deeper.

“Yes, I am.”

“I’m your delivery man and am close to town right now. Your exact delivery location was not specified. The only information I have is a ‘shrine’ of some kind? Could you please tell me the exact location?”

Homura paused. The express delivery had arrived far too quickly! He still had his long hours of teachings of ‘how to control yourself’ class after that and wouldn’t be able to visit the shrine where he hoped to perform a ritual in time to better control his other self! Homura was angry at himself—no, at the Kagutsuchi—for causing a commotion a few hours before. He let out a sigh and opened his mouth.

“Dude, I’m afraid I won’t be able to make it right now; could you please deliver it to the... high school?”

Homura was embarrassed. This order was placed by his wealthy family; he did not place it himself. He apparently used this company a lot in his previous life to store his treasures and such. It was easy for them to determine if he was him in his previous life since they could even track him down through his soul.

The man on the other end responded with a puzzled tone.

“...School?”

“Yes, the Tottori Private High School! If you type the name into the GPS, I’m sure it will come up!”

“... okay. When I arrive, I’ll call this number again.”

The phone call ended. Homura sighed again, this time louder. He didn’t know what to do and felt frustrated. He entered the classroom intending to stare out the window once more and found that he couldn’t bring himself to look at anyone else.

***

Ichiro took his time driving through the city towards the private high school. Tottori was a small prefecture, and the school was only fifteen minutes away from the center of the city. He stopped at one point because there were traffic lights. He thought about the recipient’s appearance. Ichiro previously assumed he was a yakuza-like ‘young master’ type, 21–25 years old, but now he wasn’t sure. Hearing that he was in a high school of all places, Ichiro assumed he was a teenager who has yet to enter adulthood, but he had to keep in mind that he had to act maturely when dealing with this person.

Ichiro eventually arrived at the school. It was surrounded by a fence and gates; it seemed like it had been built recently and looked rather modern compared to the surrounding buildings.

He stopped nearby, turned off the engine, took the keys with him, exited the truck, walked to the back, unlocked it, entered inside, removed the ropes that held the metal box tight, checked it for potential damage, and it was clear, so he grabbed it from the bottom, walked outside, put the box on the ground, closed the doors, and closed it using the keys. He took out his phone and dialed the number he called a few minutes ago.

“I’m already standing in front of a school.”

“That’s, uh, fantastic! Just give it to the guard so that he can give it to me. Say it’s for Homura from A-1.”

Homura muttered it to the phone in hushed tones. But Ichiro could not do so. It was specified in the official manual that it must be delivered hand-to-hand. In addition, he needs his signature on the final third page in order to pass it as completed. He paused for a moment before responding.

“It’s against the guidelines. I’ll have to deliver it to you in person. To confirm that you received the package, we need to sign some papers. I’ll talk to the guards; they’ll probably do something about it. Please wait a minute.”

“All right, I’ve heard you; do whatever you want!”

The phone call abruptly ended. Ichiro picked up the metal box and walked to the gates. He greeted the guard, who was dressed similarly to Ichiro, and informed him of the delivery. The guard listened to him, recognized the situation, and dialed his phone. Ichiro didn’t pay attention to the conversation because he was focused on gripping the box. The guard said he’d be there shortly after the call ended. Ichiro sincerely thanked him and entered the gates. The school was quite large; its design and construction were both modern and clean, which made it feel more like an office building than a school.

Ichiro stopped at the sakura tree, which had already shed most of its petals, and stared at the sky. Ichiro placed the box on the ground. He looked at the school and recalled both good and bad memories of his time at his hometown's high school. He was nostalgic—not for high school, but for the friends he made while there. All the absurd things they did, how many people they have irritated, and how much trouble they have caused each other. He remembered the way they laughed together as well as the tears they cried.

But it didn’t last long; after high school, everyone, including him, went their separate ways. They all lived their own lives as adults in different places. It’s been years since their graduation ceremony.

He sighed and shook his head, as if to dispel any negative thoughts. He had no time to reminisce.

Homura walked awkwardly at him, with a sour expression on his face. He approached Ichiro slowly, as if approaching a wild animal. He stopped when they had around 5 meters between each other, then stood still.

“Homura-san from class A-1, I suppose?“

Ichiro was the first to talk. Homura did not respond. All because the Kagutsuchi had kicked Homura’s outer shell out of direct control and was now in charge. All because the Kagutsuchi sensed Ichiro’s powerful masked aura. He cackled like some kind of scumbag villain, and Kagutsuchi opened his mouth.

“No. That weakling is not permitted to brow thou. I be Kagutsuchi, the mighty god of relentless fire! Mine corporal agent was cut into eight pieces and spread out, and each of ‘em created the volcanoes. From ‘em I gather mine power, and I challenge thou, the great one, to the duel!”

Homu- Kagutsuchi used his left arm to close his right eye, his legs tangled, and his right hand pointed to Ichiro. He stood there, impersonating some kind of power ‘pose.’ The aura that surrounded Kagutsuchi became more intense, alerting the guards.

But Ichiro didn’t feel any of that because his aura was so thick that it was like a droplet in the ocean to him, and he was only embarrassed by looking at him. Fuck. He is just the chuunibyou delinquent!

Ichiro smiled wryly and raised a single finger. He ignored Kagutsuchi’s actions, instead choosing to address him.

“I see... I’ll accept your challenge.”

Ichiro furrowed his brows and walked at him. He looked at this brat with an icy gaze that pressured Kagutsuchi. But that wasn’t all. His spiritual aura spread, alerting both teachers and students. A spiritual form stood behind him. The shadow of a six-winged angel hovered above Ichiro’s back. Ichiro was completely unaware of what was going on behind his back.

Kagutsuchi was surprised by this sudden change in events. He cackled a hoarse chuckle, and he let go of his combat spirit as well. It was a two-horned muscular being surrounded by fire, its face covered behind the tengu mask, with the eyes resembling those of a demon.

It was much more negligible than Ichiro’s spirit, and it was only a small fraction of its full strength.

Kagutsuchi stood firm, unfearing his so-called opponent's might. But for Ichiro, there was only chunni, a spiky red-haired brat who needed to see the cruel reality. He approached him, raised his hand, and flicked his finger onto his head with such force that he thought it would hurt.

From the outside, Ichiro’s shadow angel completely subdued him with a raised hand. When he flicked his finger at Homura’s head, the angel performed some sort of ritual, creating a seal on his chest. After that, Kagutsuchi’s aura gradually faded as the Homura plopped down on the ground. He massaged his head and groaned in pain.

Homura was horrified as he looked at Ichiro. He could feel that the Kagutsuchi had been completely tamed and controlled. He felt the same thing as when he was possessed by the Kagutsuchi himself; now it was in reverse. The angel that was behind Ichiro’s back disappeared, and now all he saw was a regular human.

“What did you do right now?”

Homura asked in confusion. Ichiro responded in a calm voice.

“Thousand Flicks of a Soul Reformation."

Ichiro said gibberish in order to appease Homura’s chuunibyou mind. The name of this technique sounded like it came from some kind of fantasy novel, but it actually existed. Ichiro didn’t know about that, though. He usually flicked his friend many times when he showed chunni behavior in middle school, and it had always worked. After being electrocuted by a faulty, low-powered cable, his friend thought he was a lightning mage. He even claimed to have the ability to create storms, which he couldn’t do, and he was constantly doing stupid things like getting caught in a typhoon and causing a blackout in his entire school.

“Now that you’ve calmed down, let’s finish this deal.”

Homura nodded, his mind wandering somewhere else. He wasn’t really aware of what happened; the only thing that he knew was that he got beaten up, but that wasn’t important anymore. They both approached the metal box, unlatched it, and he looked inside. There were all the items that the family had requested, so he signed the papers that were on top of a box and gave them over to Ichiro. Ichiro was relieved. He had successfully completed his first delivery on time. Ichiro bid farewell to him and returned to the gates, but was stopped by Homura's voice.

“Who are you?”

“Me? I’m just your average truck driver.”

Ichiro said this as he walked to his truck. His job was completed, and he needed to inform his boss, leaving the Homura dumbfounded.