It's been a year since the Fukami siblings seemingly dropped off the face of the earth, but even so, Akari is sure she'll see Kanon again someday.
Kanon hovered near the ceiling, peering down at Akari curiously, unseen.
Akari prodded curiously at the small pink eyecon.
She couldn't feel anything, but she could almost imagine the warmth emanating from Akari's hands as they gripped her eyecon form.
She's waited this long; she can wait a little longer.
"You need to focus on bringing yourself back to life," Akari told Takeru, gritting her teeth to keep herself from bursting into tears over what she would lose.
This was it, the final eyecon Takeru needed to bring either himself or Kanon back to life—Akari could almost weep.
Akari held her breath, knowing that whichever wish Takeru made, she'd have to let go of someone.
Love at first sight is completely illogical, so Akari tries to rationalize with the knowledge that even if it had been ten years since she last saw Kanon, that makes it not technically "first sight".
Akari draped her coat over Kanon's shoulders.
"I haven't eaten anything in ages," Kanon said with a grin when Akari handed her a box of takoyaki—her first meal after being brought back to life.
Hesitant to disrupt Akari's work, Kanon handled the beaker with a delicate touch.
It wasn't jealousy Akari felt when Kanon spoke with Alain; it was worry.
Kanon held up the picture of them holding hands and explained, "Cubi drew it, isn't it nice?"
Kanon's vision dimmed until she could no longer see Akari's face in front of her.
She wouldn't remember it later, but right now Kanon was pretty sure Akari was singing her to sleep.
Everything from the instant she laid down until now is a blur—she knows Alain and Cubi stayed by her side and Akari was working on a way to fix the red sky, but everything runs together until she can't even tell how long has gone by.
This had to work, it had to, or Kanon would... Kanon would...
Akari may not have been a Kamen Rider, but there was one thing she could do—she could make the red haze in the sky go away.
"You're fine now," Akari said soothingly, stroking Kanon's hair.
"You're not Kanon, Kanon's the girl I'm gonna marry," the de-aged Akari stated matter-of-factly.
It all came flooding back to Kanon; the pinky promise made in the folly of youth, when they thought they'd never be split apart.
"A thousand kisses wouldn't actually take very long, I don't think," Akari said as she pulled out a piece of paper to work the figures.
Akari held her breath, expecting Makoto to glower at her, but to her utter shock he wound up smiling and nodding.
History wasn't Akari's forte; Takeru would have been a better person to ask about the changes in the world over the last ten years; but Kanon mostly just wanted an excuse to be around her.
Akari placed the bandaid on Kanon's elbow—then leaned down and kissed it for good measure.
Akari cleared her throat in embarrassment and removed her hand from the wall, explaining, "It's... it's a thing teenagers do these days, it's called kabe-don."
Kanon leaned over Akari's shoulder as she typed away at her laptop.
Akari's latest invention was working like a charm, and none too soon; she blasted away Ganma after Ganma, desperate to reach the room where Kanon was being held.
Kanon sighed blissfully at the sensation of Akari's hands scrubbing her back.
Kanon's body was radiant, perfect, and Akari wondered if it had always been that way or if it was new and pristine as a result of Takeru's wish.
"Wait, hold on, just—" Kanon gasped out, and Akari stopped—this was all too much, too fast, after spending so long unable to feel anything.
Waking with a start, Akari yelped at the sudden cold feet pressed against her legs.
"Actually," said Akari, blushing, "that's a common misconception about the hymen."
When Makoto knocked at the bedroom door, Kanon jumped to her feet, threw on her bathrobe, and hurriedly tossed a blanket over Akari's unclothed body.
One year after Kanon came back to life, they celebrated their fiftieth kiss.
Akari pulled in a decent salary working for the university, but Kanon didn't care about the numbers on her paychecks.
In 2019, schoolchildren would hear lessons about Tsukimura's work on interdimensional gateways and Ganma physiology; in 2025, they would also learn that she had married a woman.
Hundreds of years along, when a future incarnation of Kamen Rider Ghost flails at the boy he has a crush on, the Tsukimura Eyecon will glow with a fond warmth—she'll never forget her Kanon.
With a cry of "Transform!", Akari set Kanon's eyecon in her belt.
"Eyes open—Fukami—Damsel in distress, fight on nonetheless!"
A pastel pink-and-white hoodie draped over Akari's form.
Tsukimura Akari—Kamen Rider Ghost—took a deep breath and stared right into the heart of the Great Eye.
"I wish for both Kanon and me to come back to life," she called out.
There was a long, long pause, until finally, the voice laughed and said, "How clever of you!"
Kanon grinned broadly, squeezing her arms around Akari's waist as they zoomed along on her motorcycle.
Letter by letter, handwriting appeared in the diary: "Hello, my name is Kanon Fukami."
Akari pushed open the two halves of the Double Driver, Kanon keeled over, and the two of them were one.
"You say this power was once used by a king?" Akari repeated as she examined her girlfriend's new OOO Driver.
Akari turned the knob on her wrist and the belt—Kanon—called out, "Start your engine!"