[Koneko POV]
I stepped into Kokonoe-senpai's home. The faint smell of coffee hit me first. He was already at the table, looking annoyingly calm, sipping from his mug like nothing had happened. The house was quiet — too quiet. I noticed the absence before he even mentioned it.
"Chisato-san's not around?" I asked, glancing toward the hallway.
"She's oversleeping," he said, setting his mug down. "Didn't get much rest after the news. And the fact that I left didn't make it any better..."
Yeah, idiot. That's why I'm here.
"I came here two days ago," I said flatly, "but Yamamoto-san and Midorikawa-san told me you were gone."
"Morning, Koneko-san," Midorikawa-san said as she followed Yamamoto-san into the kitchen, voice calm, casual.
"Morning," Yamamoto-san added, stretching and raising an eyebrow.
"Good morning, Midorikawa-san", I greeted. I narrowed my eyes at Yamamoto. "Morning. Ice bitch," I muttered.
Yamamoto-san smirked, clearly unfazed. "Ice bitch, huh? Heard and recorded."
Kokonoe-senpai chuckled softly into his coffee. The sound was faint, but I could hear it — and I didn't want to admit it made me pause.
"So… where were you this weekend, Senpai?" I asked, crossing my arms, voice clipped.
He met my gaze, steady. "You'll know… when the time is right. If you want, visit sometime that's not the morning before a school day."
I blinked. Tch. Typical. He never gave straight answers. Midorikawa-san and Yamamoto-san lingered near the doorway, quiet but watching. I didn't bother glancing at them — they weren't my concern.
The house smelled like coffee and toast, warm but ordinary. I crossed my arms, glancing at Kokonoe-senpai. "Walk to school with me," I said flatly.
He raised an eyebrow, sipped his coffee. "Sure. If you insist."
Then, he looked up from his mug, eyes half-lidded but alert in that way that always made it hard to tell whether he was tired or just thinking too much.
"Before we leave," he said, "want some breakfast? Midorikawa, could you brew her some tea?"
Midorikawa-san smiled faintly, already moving toward the counter. "Sure."
I hesitated, then nodded once. "Fine."
Kokonoe-senpai gestured toward the seat across from him. "Sit."
I slid into the chair, arms crossed, pretending not to notice how natural this all felt — like this table was used to having people around it, even though the air still felt heavy. Midorikawa-san set a cup of steaming tea in front of me, gentle and fragrant. She also brought a plate, toast, still warm.
"Thanks," I muttered.
For a while, it was quiet — just the faint sound of the kettle cooling, the tick of the wall clock, and Senpai's mug hitting the table as he took another sip.
Then, his voice broke through.
"Any idea when the devils plan to rebuild Nagano?"
I looked up, blinking. That was sudden. "Buchou said… as soon as possible."
He clicked his tongue. "Figures."
The air went still for a moment. I caught Midorikawa-san's heartbroken expression — the kind that said she was trying hard not to remember. Yamamoto-san's hands had curled into tight fists, her usual calm slipping for just a second. Nagano was their home…
My mind flickered back, uninvited — the massacre, the smoke, the blood. The screams. The people we managed to save.
And the ones we didn't.
Something unreadable passed through his expression — irritation, maybe, or something heavier. I didn't ask. I just held my cup, watching the steam rise, wondering how much he knew that he never said out loud.
He exhaled softly, eyes fixed on the table. "Just wanted Haruka and Midorikawa to go back to their normal lives as soon as possible…"
The words hung in the air like dust that refused to settle. Midorikawa-san's fingers stilled around her teacup. Her gaze dropped, quiet, like she was trying to hold herself together without showing it. There was something fragile in that silence — the kind that made you feel like breathing too loudly might break it.
Yamamoto-san let out a small exhale, more scoff than sigh. "Normal," she repeated under her breath, crossing her arms. A dry, humorless laugh slipped out. "That's… a word."
I glanced between them, then at Senpai. The air felt heavier all of a sudden, pressing against my skin. He didn't look at either of them — just stared into his cup, eyes distant, like he was somewhere far from this kitchen.
I didn't say anything. I just took a slow sip of tea, letting the warmth hide the weight in my chest.
For a moment, silence. Then, Senpai glanced over at his watch, then looked at me. "It's time. Let's go."
Midorikawa-san, lingering by the doorway, gave a small smile. "Have a good walk, you two."
Yamamoto-san stretched lazily, leaning against the doorframe. "It's… nice not going to school tomorrow," she murmured, eyes half-closed, voice soft but amused.
I scowled. "Ice bitch," I muttered again under my breath, earning a faint laugh from Kokonoe-senpai.
He set down his mug. "Ready?"
I nodded once. Flat. No theatrics. We moved toward the door.
"Bye," Midorikawa-san called quietly.
"See you," Yamamoto-san added, voice still that perfect mix of teasing and casual.
The door closed behind us, and the crisp morning air hit like reality. I walked beside Kokonoe-senpai, shoulders squared, silent, but… at least we were moving. The streets were quiet, the early morning sun stretching shadows across the pavement. I walked a few paces behind Kokonoe-senpai, arms crossed as usual, trying not to let him notice how curious I was.
My thoughts wandered back — to the night he sang that Hungarian song, his final words before telling Rias to… do something I didn't want to imagine. The melody had stuck with me, haunting and strange, like it belonged somewhere else entirely.
"…Senpai," I said finally, breaking the silence. "Back then… when you sang that song — how do you even know it?"
He glanced at me, faint smirk playing on his lips, as though I'd asked exactly the right question. "Have you never wondered why I know so many rappers from so many countries… and can sing songs in Hungarian?"
Before I could answer, he reached out and lightly patted my head. Heat rose to my cheeks. I clenched my arms at my sides, trying not to let him see how flustered I was, but I felt my ears burn anyway.
He looked forward again, calm as ever. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna keep it from you. It's just a matter of timing, and the timing isn't right now," he added, leaving the words hanging between us.
"I trust you...", I decided to stop pressing for now. Senpai will tell me, eventually.
The silence stretched between us as I kept pace beside Senpai. My thoughts drifted, as they often did, tracing the faint shadows behind his calm demeanor. There was something… older about him, something that made him feel like he had walked far longer paths than his age should allow. The kind of maturity that unsettled you, yet drew you in, made you crave understanding even if you weren't supposed to.
"…Senpai," I said suddenly, voicing the thought before I could stop myself. My voice cut through the quiet. "It feels like you… lived before."
He froze mid-step, just for a heartbeat. The faint smirk vanished, replaced by an expression I didn't expect — shock, disbelief, a glimmer of vulnerability. Then, almost immediately, he chuckled dryly, shaking his head.
"Lived? More like struggled to live," he replied, voice low but carrying that familiar, weary edge.
I blinked, taken aback by the weight in his tone. Even his humor had that strange gravity to it — like the world had handed him far more than anyone could carry, yet somehow he kept moving. And… for reasons I couldn't explain, that made my chest tighten.
______
[Kokonoe POV]
Monday mornings. There's nothing I hate more in the world. Whether at school or work, it's always the same. Slaves of the system, marching into another day of servitude. Still… I can't deny I'm looking forward to getting back to real, adult life. Maybe some literature college, a part-time job in telecom… hell, I'd even go back to being a TikTok mod for a while. Back then, I had coworkers from the Netherlands and France, telling me Brașov was beautiful and Romania was "something special." Funny how strangers can romanticize the same streets I used to curse under my breath...
The same streets I miss now.
Such were my thoughts as I was walking side by side with Toujou Koneko towards the Kuoh Academy. Glancing at her, I realized: my teenage years weren't so bad this time around.
For a moment, I thought of asking her if she'd come with me if I left Japan. Yeah. Wish fullfilment much. She has school, friends here—a life.
Me? I don't know. I used to dream about living in Japan, but now that I've achieved it, it feels… hollow.
I glance at Koneko walking beside me, her white bob swaying, her golden eyes fixed straight ahead.
"You're brooding again," she says, voice flat, not even looking at me.
I smirk, shoving my hands into my pockets. "Just wondering if I'm cut out for this high school crap. Feels like I'm faking it half the time."
Koneko doesn't reply right away. Her eyes flick toward the school gates before she finally says, "You're here. That's enough."
Is it enough for you… or should it be enough for me too? I don't know. But I let it sink in as we hit the shoe lockers and part ways.
Life's been a mess for a long time — way beyond my control.
I slip into the classroom and spot Issei Hyoudou slouched at his desk by the window, eyes half‑open, face like he spent the night wrestling demons — which, knowing him, isn't impossible. His head lifts when he notices me, that usual grin flickering before he forces it into place.
"Yo, Kokonoe," he says, rubbing the back of his neck. "Man, you look like you saw a ghost. Rough weekend?"
I drop into the seat beside him, tossing my bag onto the desk. "If by 'rough' you mean regretting every choice that landed me in this madhouse, sure." I lean back, studying him. "You look like you got dragged through hell. What's your excuse?"
He chuckles a little too quickly. "Heh… you know me. Me and the guys were up late hunting for—uh, research material." He tries to wiggle his eyebrows, but it's half‑hearted. "Purely academic, I swear—"
A rolled‑up notebook thwacks the back of his head. "Issei, you said you'd study!"
Asia's voice is softer than usual — more tentative than scolding. She's standing there, notebook still in hand, her expression caught between a smile and a frown. "We have a history quiz today."
"Asia, my angel," Issei says, clutching his head in mock pain, "I was studying! The history of human culture!"
She sighs, but when her green eyes flick toward me, the faint sadness behind her usual warmth doesn't go unnoticed. "Good morning, Kokonoe." Her smile tries to stay steady, but it wavers for half a heartbeat.
"Morning, Asia," I say quietly.
For a second, it's almost like things are normal again — but the air's heavier. The tension hangs just beneath the surface, like everyone's pretending the cracks aren't there.
Why even bother being nice to me now? Especially Hyoudou... bro, you told Rias to make me a stray. And yeah, Koneko told me.
Are they trying to be nicer to make me feel like I'm not the outcast here — or did Rias put them up to it? Did I even care?
Classes passed, uneventfully. And then, it was time for club activities. The clubroom felt tense, the kind of tension mixed with guilt and apprehension. Prez stood at her desk, eyes locking onto mine.
"Kokonoe… we received reports from Romania.", she began. "Reports of your presence there over the weekend."
Nothing ever escapes you, huh? Fair enough. I gave Koneko a sidelong glance—our silent conversation, just a look, spoke louder than any words. We need to talk. I know. That's why I hadn't mentioned it over breakfast. She understood perfectly. There's something fascinating about how much can pass between us without sound.
The others froze, disbelief written across their faces. Asia let out a sharp gasp, hands fluttering to her chest. Hyoudou stammered, "What?!? You… you were in Romania?!" Kiba's eyes narrowed, wary and calculating, as if he were weighing every possible consequence. Meanwhile, Akeno-senpai leaned back, a light chuckle escaping her lips, teasing.
"Kokonoe-kun is restless~," she sang, voice playful, eyes glinting.
Tell me something I don't know, Senpai.
"Amu pana va prindeti, ma apuca Craciunu si Revelionu'," I said, sliding into a provincial Transylvanian accent, casual and precise. The kind you hear in Baia Mare. The kind of Romanian you don't need devil language powers to speak.
The room went quieter still. Asia's hands fell slowly to her sides, eyes wide. Hyoudou blinked, mouth slightly open. Kiba's sharp gaze softened just a fraction, while Akeno's amused smirk widened. And Prez… she didn't move, didn't speak, but the faint twitch at her lips betrayed the storm behind her calm facade.
I decided to play it cool.
"Speaking of Christmas, you're all invited.", I said, barely containing my sarcasm. "Grams makes a great piftie. In case you don't know, it's… pork meat boiled into gelatin. A culinary feast."
"Grotesque!!" Hyoudou shouted, hands flailing.
I rummaged through my backpack, glancing at Koneko with that faint smirk that always made her narrow her eyes. "That reminds me. I brought you a gift."
I tossed her a small package across the desk. She caught it effortlessly—a piece of Boromir cozonac, nut flavor.
She muttered quietly, "Thanks."
The classroom went quiet in stunned silence. Prez's sharp gaze lingered. Asia blinked, still wide-eyed. Hyoudou's jaw dropped further. "Wait… what?! What's that? I want some too." His face went red, flustered, like he'd just seen a miracle. Sure, buddy, ask the cat girl.
Koneko tore a small piece off, arms crossed, chewing deliberately. "Don't think I'm letting you off the hook just because you feed me," she said, voice low and precise. "We still have to talk."
I leaned back in my chair, smirk widening. If you could only sweettalk your way through girls questioning, life would be a better. I came up with the idea to buy some Romanian sweets to bring home after the old man fed me cozonac on the bus. Oh, yeah, I also watched Cabana Mercenarilor. It wasn't bad.
Koneko is pretty much the only person I had planned to reveal myself to. Well, the conversation had to wait, for after school ended. My place. Having Haruka and Suzuka with me would prolly smooth over the delivery.
"I know.", I said flatly.
Such were my thoughts as Rias' face turned into a frown, a sign of losing patience.
"Kokonoe-kun, this is serio-", she began.
And then, it happened.
A teleportation circle. The symbol of the Gremory drawn on the magic-circle changes into an unfamiliar pattern.
"—Phenex"
That's what Kiba said. Ah, okay. It's Phenex, not Gremory. Dully noted. Wait. Phenex? Haruka told me something about them after wiping my ass during one of our training sessions.
"Whatever you do, Kokonoe-kun, do not engage with the Phenex... to our kind, they are the mortal enemy", she said.
I briefly recalled her explanation. Devils with regenerative magic and fire abilities... apparently. The nightmare of every Yuki-onna, female or otherwise.
"Fuu, it's been a while since I came to the human's world."
A tall man with blonde hair stood in the doorway, tall, blonde, and polished within an inch of his life. His smirk was the kind you wanted to wipe off with a chair. Behind him, his peerage filed in — an entourage of smugness wrapped in formal attire. A girl with blondish drills stuck close, presumably his sister, curls bouncing as she scanned the room with a pout that screamed spoiled royalty. A voluptuous witch leaned lazily against the frame, her eyes sharp with amusement. The rest of them — knights, pawns, maids — arranged themselves like a stage set. Truly, what a slave lineup.
The Gremorys treat their slaves kindly — I'll give them that. Rias isn't cruel, just spoiled. A princess who grew into authority without ever scraping the bottom. She is a spoiled brat, nonetheless. Whereas a real leader climbs from the dirt… like me. Lmao. Anyway.
This freak, by contrast, was the embodiment of entitlement I used to see in Romania. Doctors, priests, businessmen and pretty much every privileged position which demanded responsibility over arrogance.
It doesn't take words to grasp someone's character. That being said, I dreaded the moment this sucker was gonna open his mouth— which would be any second now.
"My lovely Rias. I came to see you."
Lovely. Right. The way he said it made my skin crawl. Rias' jaw tightened, and I could almost hear the snap in her patience.
She didn't answer right away. Instead, she just looked at him — that calm, self-entitled fury she usually reserved for when someone underestimated her. Or protected civilian lives outside of her orders' framework.
"Now then, Rias," he went on, pretending not to notice, "let's take a look at the ceremony hall. The date's set — you wouldn't want to be late for your own engagement."
Engagement? Interesting. Honestly? They made a great pair—... not really. Even Rias doesn't deserve that shit.
I heard a faint gasp from Asia. Kiba's hand flexed by his sword hilt, his usual grace stripped to something more personal.
The Phenex grinned, hand reaching for Rias' arm like it already belonged to him.
"Let go of me, Riser."
Her voice was ice. And for once, I wasn't the coldest thing in the room.
The guy called Raiser didn't even flinch when Rias pulled at his arm. Smirk intact, like the world owed him obedience. That little cocky movement — the way he leaned forward without a care — was ticking me off more than I expected.
Hyoudou, of course, was boiling inside his own chest, fists tightening like he was ready to punch through walls. I could see it in the way his jaw flexed and his ears flushed red.
Poor kid doesn't stand a chance against a Phenex, but that didn't stop his fury.
He opened his mouth, rage spilling out:
"Hey, you. You are being rude to Buchou. Actually, what's with that attitude towards a girl?"
"Ah? Who are you?"
The Phenex guy's voice was sharp, completely different from the syrupy, charming tone he reserved for Rias. Nggh, he's clearly looking down on Hyoudou. I could feel that aura of superiority radiating from him, that subtle, insufferable scorn. But Hyoudou's not backing down — good for him.
"I am the servant Devil of Rias Gremory-sama! I'm the [Pawn], Hyoudou Issei," he said, voice strained but proud. Name dropped, position declared. Brave, maybe too brave for this situation.
Raiser barely blinked. "Hmm. Ah, okay."
A dull reaction, almost like he didn't even register Hyoudou's declaration. And naturally, Hyoudou slumped a little, wounded by the disregard. Kid wears his heart on his sleeve, and Raiser's indifference is a punch straight to its gut. I felt like gagging.
"I mean, who the heck are you?" Hyoudou fired back, trying to reclaim some dignity.
Raiser's smirk twitched, a flicker of amusement breaking through. "Oh? Rias, you haven't mentioned me to your servants? Are there actually guys who don't know me? A reincarnated Devil, even so."
I barely suppressed the gag sound this time.
"I didn't tell them because there was no need," Rias replied, sharp and controlled as ever.
"Oh my, harsh like always. Hahaha…" The laughter was deliberate, the kind that irritates.
I could practically feel Hyoudou's frustration spike — poor kid's about to combust.
Before he could say more, Akeno's voice cut in, smooth, teasing, yet informative: "Issei-kun, that's Raiser Phoenix-sama. He's a pure-blood High-class Devil, third son of the House of Phoenix. A powerful one, so don't think your usual tricks will work on him."
Hyoudou's eyes widened slightly, and I caught the almost imperceptible tremor in his hands. Rookie panic, if I've ever seen it. He's got guts, sure, but against this kind of freak? He's swimming in shark-infested waters.
"And he is the husband of the next heiress of the House of Gremory.", she finished.
I glanced at Hyoudou, who apparently needed extra explanations despite how the first thing Riser mentioned when his filth sank into the room was their engagement. Bro. Really?
"H-H-Husband…? The next heiress… she's talking about Rias, right…?"
Akeno's serene voice cut through his panic: "He is engaged to Rias."
…and that was all it took. Hyoudou froze, eyes practically bulging out of his skull, fingers clutching at his sleeves.
"E-E-E-E-E-E-Engageeeeeed!?"
I stifled a snort, leaning back slightly in my chair. Typical Hyoudou. Completely unprepared for adult complications, yet somehow the energy he radiates makes it entertaining. His scream — high-pitched, utterly unrestrained — echoed across the room.
"Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeh!!"
Good lord. I thought I'd seen intense reactions before, but this? This was peak rookie meltdown.
I observed silently, letting Hyoudou flail, noting every flinch, every stammer. The kid's loyalty is admirable, but watching him panic like this… priceless.
I leaned back, smirked faintly, and muttered under my breath, "Good luck, kid. You're gonna need it."
"On which side are you on?!?", he barked, incredulously.
On my own side. I thought that was obvious.
Then, Riser's eyes landed on me — assessing, amused. "Oh, who's this. Your new pet? He smells like frost and failure had a baby."
Bro thought he was being funny.
I leaned back in my chair, unfazed. Great. Another overconfident aristocrat cosplaying as Lucifer.
Koneko's grip on her snack tightened, lollipop forgotten. Rias didn't move, but I could feel her fury simmering under that fake smile.
Akeno tilted her head, smiling that smile that always meant trouble. "Oh my, Riser-sama. So bold. Would you like some tea while you ruin the mood?"
She placed a cup of hot tea before him. Riser took a sip.
"The tea made by Rias's [Queen] is superb."
"Thank you very much.", she replied coldly.
Then, his gaze cut back to me, examining me with mild interest. "I know you. You're the little pest who fought the Old Maou Faction's army of puppets, huh? Hero of Nagano, they call you, and yet... you look like you could be one of their cultists."
Hero of Nagano, huh? Yeah, I didn't feel like one.
His tone was bait — the kind I used to live for. Back in my trolling days, if you ragebaited me, I'd hit you harder.
And yet... the way he mentioned Nagano and the Syndicate, so casually, made me wanna snap his neck right here and now. Feed his head to the stray dogs of Săcele.
Actually. Wait. Wait. What?
"Hold up. Old Maou faction?", I asked.
Riser's smirk widened like he'd been waiting for that. "Oh? You don't know the name? How quaint. They're the lot behind those pathetic puppet armies — what were they called again? Oblivion something? — relics from foolish men trying to play god. Your little victory made some noise, that's all."
I could feel my jaw tighten. Oblivion… something. That casual dismissal, like the blood and fire in Nagano were just local news, made my skin crawl. Especially since none of y'all devil freaks could be bothered with the reconstruction.
I wanted to lean over and punch that smug grin off his face—but, if my past life taught me anything, it was patience.
Still, I've been given some homework. Old Maou faction? I thought of asking Akeno, but, as if sensing my thoughts, she turned to me with an almost sympathetic look and said.
Akeno tilted her head, eyes calm but sharp. "Alright, Kokonoe-kun, since you're suddenly curious," she said, amusement glittering in her eyes, "here's a headsup. There was a war between the three factions. The Maou died. Sirzechs Lucifer, Rias's brother, is the new Maou — the top Devil keeping the balance. The Old Maou faction? Remnants of the old guard who refused the new order. Puppet armies, forbidden magic — that's what you fought in Nagano. Basically, fanatics trying to resurrect the past while the Maou keeps the Devil world from falling apart."
I let that sink in for a minute. Of course, innocents had to die for some greater purpose. On that note, this Old Maou faction sounds like the Zionists.
Or like Iran, and the Oblivion Syndicate is Hezbollah.
Great.
And Rias is the sister of the Devil. Yeah, checks out.
I chipped a short "thanks", and Akeno smiled brightly at me. Then, I turned to Phenex. "You know the funny thing about Nagano? War is only funny if you talk about it like news, Phenex. If a war broke out now, you'd be the first to die."
The room went still, the words hanging like frost. Even Akeno's smirk froze halfway into place.
Riser's laughter wavered, faltering for the briefest second before he covered it up with another cocky grin. "Cute speech, ice boy. You think tragedy makes you special? It makes you weak."
"Admitting your weakness makes you stronger than showing flexing false strength." I said, voice low. "You better remember that."
Stunned silence. For a moment, no one spoke. Then, chatter broke out in the room like it was being held hostage by the weight of my statement and the weight of my statement alone.
"U-Umm, Ise-san. Did something good happen?", the silence was broken. By Asia, whose worried face leaned toward Hyoudou.
Hyoudou who had a goofy look over his face, probably thinking of something indecent. If I told this guy I had a threesome just this morning, he'd prolly kill me with his glare. Mommy, I'm scared.
"...Indecent thinking is prohibited."
Koneko reprimands him again, like usual. We briefly make eye contact, and I wink at her. She blushes and turns her head. "Idiot...", I hear her mutter. Cute.
"Ise-kun, in any case you should wipe your drool."
Kiba gives him a handkerchief with that annoyingly refreshing smile of his. I swear, he has no idea how ridiculous this looks from the outside.
"I-It's none of your business!"
He tries to wipe his drool with his sleeve, naturally failing, and Asia swoops in to save him. Of course. Why am I not surprised? She's the kind of girl who buys everything he says.
The only girl who would have a crush on him, and yet, the only girl he has no pervy thoughts about. Lmao.
"It's almost time to eat snacks, so you drooled thinking about it, correct?"
Ugh. My heart hurts just watching her smile, so utterly convinced that he's innocent. The kid is literally thinking about the dumbest, dirtiest stuff imaginable, and she's playing the angel here.
"Thank you, Asia."
Her hand is smirking like she's proud of herself. Amazing. I lean back and shake my head, silently watching the clown show unfolding in front of me.
Meanwhile, across the room, Raiser and Rias are in full argument mode.
"Raiser! I told you before! I will not marry you!"
"Yeah, I heard that before. But Rias, that won't do, you know? I think the situation of your household is quite serious."
"That's none of your concern! If I'm the next heiress for the House of Gremory, then I will choose who will become my husband! My father, brother, and everyone in the clan are rushing it! Also it was a promise that I will be free until I graduate from university of the human world!"
Raiser continue to argue about something I couldn't be bothered trying to understand. 72 pillars, devil heritage, blah blah, blah. But even an idiot like Hyoudou — bless him — knows they're discussing something of monumental importance. To them. For me, Nagano's rebuilding took priority.
I watch Hyoudou squirm silently, completely incapable of processing the implications, while Asia sits there, still smiling like she believes every word he's saying...
And he's drolling again, looking at the women in Riser's peerage, who shriek in fear under his stare. Talk about mood swings. Are you a Gemini?
Then Riser notices his goofy expression mid-argument and asks Rias.
"H-Hey, Rias… this servant-kun over here is crying a lot while looking at me,"
Raiser said, uneasy.
Rias sighed, rubbing her temples.
"This boy's dream is to have a harem. I think he was moved after looking at your servants."
Yeah, moved. Sure. The guy's practically sobbing because he just saw his fantasy parade past him in real time.
I leaned back, watching Hyoudou like a nature documentary. The common pervert in his natural habitat.
"Gross~," one of Raiser's girls muttered.
"Raiser-sama, this person is freaking me out~."
I almost laughed. Poor girl — she hasn't realized that this is baseline Hyoudou.
Hyoudou bristled. "H-Hey! Who're you calling— Fuck you. Fuck all of you."
"Relax," I said dryly. "At least I wouldn't grope my little sister if I had one."
The air turned heavy for half a second.
Riser's smile twitched — not gone, but strained — and his sister's face snapped red. "How dare you, you filthy ice trash?! Onii-sama would never—!"
Battered woman syndrome much?
Hyoudou and Kiba stifled snickers. Even Akeno's polite smile flickered toward genuine amusement.
Riser pretended to ignore that and turned to Rias, voice rising. "This is why you need me. Look at them — half-trained, half-broken, barely fit to serve. My dear, you're drowning without me."
Rias stood, the weight in her voice enough to silence the room. "My peerage isn't for you to measure. They are my family, Riser. Not ornaments for your ego."
The temperature dropped a few degrees. Even Senpai stopped smiling.
A family, huh? If we're a family, then I guess I'm the black sheep who only gets along with the emo chick? I'm 24 years too old for you to call me your child.
Riser's smirk twitched, but he pivoted back to the tall red-haired guy with the overzealous eyes, sensing easier prey. "You, dragon boy," he said, stepping toward the voluptuous witch with the sharp eyes. "You dream of this, don't you?" He slid an arm around her waist, grazing her hip possessively. She leaned into him, smirking, her curves pressed against his side. "My peerage knows their place. Loyal. Devoted."
He turned to the maid-like girl, cupping her chin, tilting her face up. She blushed, nodding eagerly. The rest of the girls giggled, fawning over him, their eyes glinting with... adoration. Or Stockholm Syndrome.
The tall red-haired guy's eyes nearly popped out, a mix of jealousy and rage. "Y-You… you're just showing off!" he sputtered, pointing a shaky finger. "That's… that's not fair!"
Riser laughed, loud and cruel. "Fair? Oh, you poor, naive pervert. This is what power gets you." He slid his hand down the witch's back, stopping just short of her lower body, eyes never leaving the red-haired guy. "A harem that obeys. Unlike your sad little fantasies, drooling over… assets." He winked at the crimson-haired girl at the desk, who bristled.
Bro. We know Hyoudou is prolly a lost cause, but come on, like you're one to talk. You're someone who would grope his own sister. Fucking scum.
Riser's fingers sparked with flame — just enough to remind us what he was. "Family. How quaint. Then let's test that conviction."
He raised a hand, fire curling upward. "A Rating Game. My peerage against yours. If I win, you marry me. If you win… well, you won't."
The silence that followed was heavier than his fire. Koneko's lollipop snapped between her fingers, eyes narrowing like a cat about to pounce.
Rias didn't flinch. "Fine. A Rating Game it is. But don't mistake kindness for weakness, Riser."
His smirk returned, but his eyes flicked toward me again — like he knew I'd be trouble. "I'll see you in the arena, frost boy. Try not to embarrass her."
The door slammed behind him, his entourage disappearing down the hall.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Then Issei exploded. "THAT JERK! I'll kick his—"
"Language," Akeno murmured.
"—his ass! Twice!"
Rias sank back into her chair, her mask cracking just enough to show the exhaustion underneath. Kiba was already thinking ten moves ahead. Asia fretted. Koneko stayed quiet, eyes flicking toward me.
That look again — steady, unreadable, and full of everything she didn't say out loud.
This isn't over.
And she was right. It never was.
And me? I was standing on a stupid, dangerous little crossroads. Part of me wanted Rias to lose her crown; part of me wanted Riser to choke on his own entitlement. Nothing personal, Prez — I'm not anyone's puppet. I answer to no one but myself.
But the idea of quietly pulling the threads under both of them... it had a certain appeal. These are kids playing at kingship while people bleed for their drama.
I haven't decided yet. But the thought of sabotaging her campaign gnawed at me, appealing.
These are dumbasses playing house, some demon kids squabbling while people die.
My chance at reclaiming my freedom has arrived.
_______________
(scene break)
After the mess with Riser concluded, Koneko dropped by my place so we can talk, as promised. The door clicked shut behind us. Haruka and Midorikawa had lingered by the doorway, silent, and then quietly left. I didn't need them here — this was between me and Koneko.
Koneko perched at the edge of my bed, one leg swinging lazily, a lollipop between her lips. Her gaze was sharp, expectant. No preamble, no small talk. Good. Neither did I.
"The reason why I went to Romania… is because I was born there," I said, voice calm but deliberate.
Her frown was immediate. Sharp. Precise. Like I had just confessed that pigs could fly and recite Shakespeare. "You… what?" she murmured, lollipop still between her lips.
"Yeah," I continued, leaning back on my hands, letting the weight of the room settle around my words. "I"m a reincarnate. Born in Romania in early 20s, died in 2025."
"You… you mean the Hungarian song in the clubroom, and the way you… talked Romanian?" she said, her voice low but steady, picking up each clue like pieces of a puzzle. "That wasn't just… a performance?"
If anyone could perform national identity like that, I'd love to see them try, I thought wryly.
Koneko tilted her head, studying me like she was tracing invisible lines only she could see. The lollipop shifted between her lips, a tiny click breaking the stillness.
"…That explains a lot," she said at last.
I blinked. "What does?"
"You sometimes talk weird. Not like a foreigner — like an old man who reads too much," she said flatly.
Old man? I was fucking 24 when I died, for god sake. I had overcome challenges y'all wouldn't be able to face. From being homeless to a year and a half as a TikTok mod is no small feat when you're Romanian and your first year of adult life was marked by the instability of spending 2 months at each job until you got 6 by the time you turned 19. And it just got worse after the drugs.
I almost laughed. "Old man? I was twenty-three when I died, for god's sake."
Her gaze didn't waver. "Still older than you look now."
Fair. Couldn't argue with that.
I leaned back, staring at the ceiling for a moment. The words hung there — Romania, death, rebirth — like I'd just summoned ghosts into the room.
"My name, well, the name I was born with is Mihai Gradinaru." I said quietly, "I was a TikTok moderator — and no, that's not something I brag about."
"TikTok?", she raised an eyebrow at me.
Just wait a few years, you'll be surprised by how popular it'll become in a short time. And by the wave of botlike humanoids contaminating your fyp with twerking and brainrot disguised as humor. Hell, someone like you could make a career out of TikTok. Or Twitch. Hellcat-chan the streamer.
"Think… a video app," I said, waving a hand vaguely. "Short clips. People dancing, ranting, pretending they're deep while showing off ass. Basically a front-row seat to the slow decay of human intellect."
Her expression didn't change. Just that faint twitch of confusion she got whenever I used words she hadn't heard in this timeline.
"It got popular fast," I continued. "Too fast. And I worked behind the curtains. Moderator. I was supposed to take out the ones that violated the ToS — you know, pornography, gore… the good stuff."
The words came out sharper than I meant. The kind of sharp that came from memory, not intention.
"I watched thousands of videos with girls twerking at work," I muttered, shaking my head. "To the point I stopped getting hard. Maybe a job like mine would cure Hyoudou's perversion… or make it worse. Flip a coin, but the kid wouldn't resist the dark side of the net."
That earned the faintest flicker of something from her — not laughter, not judgment, just a small exhale through her nose, like she didn't know whether to find me pathetic or relatable. The yap session wasn't over, though, I'm just getting started.
"Things like what happened in Nagano… I've seen it before," I said, voice low. "In Lebanon. In Palestine. In Ukraine. Doesn't matter who's waving the flag — whether it's Russia's disgusting tricolor or Israel's satanic star — it's always the same story. Empires prey on the weak and pretend it's justice."
Like France, with Jeanne D'Arc being burned alive to stop England's expansion on European soil, later became a colonial power themselves. So did Portugal, Belgium, Netherlands.
I glanced toward her. She wasn't mocking me. Just… listening. Lollipop forgotten, hand resting against her knee. The kind of silence that told me she understood, even if she'd never seen it firsthand — that same hollow look of someone who's watched destruction and realized it never really ends.
Her voice came out soft. "…You talk like someone who's seen the world burn."
I almost smiled. "Maybe because I have."
She nodded slowly, the lollipop stick bending between her fingers. "Guess that's why you didn't freak out in Nagano."
I did, though. I had to look calm for y'all, but I was scared of dying just when my life got better. When you three came along. Sure, it's worse than it ever was. But Suzuka. Haruka. And you. If any of you asked me to die right now, I would.
But before I could continue my monologue, I noticed Koneko's disconnected gaze, as if somehow she had managed to go to a dark place in mere seconds. Silence stretched out for a couple of minutes in which I contemplated asking her if she's okay, then, her voice cut through the air, softer than usual, laced with something I couldn't quite place.
"Remember I said I'd tell you about myself? Back in that hospital in Nagano?"
I froze. The weight of her words settled over me like a sudden storm. Her eyes, usually sharp and guarded, were now distant, haunted. Yeah, this is the landmine I was talking about.
I nodded slowly. "Yeah. I remember."
She took a deep breath, her fingers absentmindedly twirling the lollipop stick. "My sister... Kuroka. She was everything to me. But she betrayed our master. Killed him. I saw it happen. She lost control of her power, and... I couldn't stop her."
Her voice trembled slightly, and I could see the pain etched into her features. "After that, I was sentenced to death. The Devils wanted to make an example of me. But Sirzechs Lucifer protected me. Took me in. And Rias... she helped me find my way back."
The room fell silent, the weight of her confession hanging between us. I didn't know what to say. What could I say?
Koneko looked at me, her expression unreadable. "So, yeah. I get it. Losing someone. Feeling like you're broken."
I swallowed hard, my throat tight. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."
She shrugged, the usual indifference returning to her demeanor. "Not your fault. Just... don't think you're the only one who's been through hell."
I nodded, understanding more than I let on. The silence stretched between us, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was that kind of silnence that lingered after words ran out of purpose.
After we said everything we needed to say.