Kenji stood silently at the doorway of their bedroom, his hand resting lightly on the cool mahogany frame. He had taken a moment downstairs after Azazel left, not just to control the raw fury that still coiled in his gut, but to increase the wards around the house.
The wards he used before were meant to keep out up to high class beings and create a sort of notice-me-not effect on people that held malice against him or his family members. he knew most of the beings around from fallen to stray devil have not been able to come close becasue of that but azazel had, that meant that 1 the man didnt mean him or his family harm, which he called bull. 2 azazel was so powerful that he didnt even harbord thoughts of harming them since they were too weak thus the spell didnt work or 3 the man found a way to bypass it.
Right now, he didn't know which one, so he just added what he could for now. He'll check it over later properly, he thought as he headed toward their room.
Now, he watched Anastasia. She was seated on the edge of their bed, her fingers clasped so tightly together that her knuckles were white, staring blankly at her palms as if searching for answers hidden in her own skin.
He could see it clearly, the silent, tormenting question that kept gnawing at her, Why did I do that? Why did I let him in? She was confused, she felt a deep betrayal by her own body, a horrifying sense that she was merely a puppet whose strings a stranger could seize at leisure.
He sighed softly, running a weary hand through his hair. Before coming up, he'd briefly entertained the old lie, a smooth explanation about a rogue psychic or a powerful hypnotic suggestion.
But that wasn't an option anymore, nor did he intend to make it one.
For a while now, the debate had raged within him, when to tell her the impossible truth.
He had always held back. At first, their relationship wasn't really in a good place, it was literally a gentle breath away from collapse. Then, as their relationship healed, the reason changed, he was weak.
He had vowed to himself that when he was strong enough, he'd tell her, tell them all. Not just her, but the kids too.
But today, Azazel had acted and messed things up just because he thought he could do anything he wanted, and he was now an ultimate class, a force. You have to understand that reaching this level of power was something.
Reaching this point, he could no longer afford the lie. Hiding the truth now would only create problems when the truth eventually comes out.
He cleared his throat lightly, the small sound finally drawing her attention. Her head snapped up, her eyes wide and startled.
"Hey," he said softly, walking closer. "Are you okay?"
Her lips trembled, and she looked down again, unable to maintain eye contact, just staring at her hands. "Yeah… yeah, I'm fine."
He didn't believe it for a second. Moving to sit beside her, he gently pulled her into his arms, resting her head against his shoulder. "No, you're not," he murmured.
For a long while, there was silence. The soft hum of the air conditioner filled the void, punctuated only by her shallow, rapid breathing. The comforting strength of his embrace seemed to ground her, allowing the turmoil to settle enough for words.
Finally, she spoke, her voice thick with unspent emotion and a hint of self-disgust. "I don't understand what happened, Kenji. It was just… wrong. I felt like I was locked inside my own head, watching myself move and talk. When I tried to refuse him, my body just went along with him. I wanted to say no, but my body just… opened the door and offered him a seat. It was not natural."
"I know," he said, kissing the top of her head. He pulled back slightly, his expression grave.
"It's not normal, Kenji. Whatever that was, it wasn't normal." Her hands found his, gripping them tightly. She knew that whatever that man had done wasn't natural, and she knew that Kenji knew what it was, what the man did to her, the fury she had seen on his face when he came in, and the fact that he seemed to know the man who lied about knowing her husband.
"Who was that man? What did he do to me?"
Kenji looked into those crystal-blue eyes he had fallen for, eyes that held his stare, hoping for answers. He let out a deep, steadying sigh, knowing he was about to shatter her reality forever.
"Are you sure you want to know?" he asked quietly, the weight of his confession immense. "Because once I tell you, once you know, there's no going back to the way things were. Your perception of the world will never be the same as it was."
She nodded at him with a fierce resolve. "Yes," she said, her voice unwavering. "I want to know. I need to know why I couldn't control myself."
He paused before speaking. "That man… was Azazel."
She gave him a blank look, 'Was that supposed to mean something?' She couldn't help but give him the look.
He managed to laugh.
"I mean, THE Azazel," he clarified, his tone now completely serious.
Her eyes were still narrowed and confused before she recalled where she had heard the name before.
The only Azazel she knew of was from the bible, he faced a horrified disbelief look. Her eyes widened.
"…Wait." Her voice trembled. "Azazel, as in the Azazel? As in 'banished-from-heaven, Azazel, taught-humans-how-to-make-weapons', Azazel? The Biblical angel?"
"Yep. That one," Kenji confirmed. "Though technically, he's a Fallen Angel now, not an angel. He got booted for the whole weapon-making thing and corrupting humanity. "
She immediately shot off the bed, placing a steadying hand on his forehead. "You're not feverish. Are you stressed? Did you hit your head, Kenji? Please tell me this is a joke and you've just finally snapped," she pleaded, her face reflecting genuine panic for his sanity.
He gently removed her hands, taking them into his own, forcing her to look at his solemn face. "I'm not joking, Ana. The supernatural is real. Everything in the old books, the legends, the myths… they're all real, and they're all here, operating just below the surface."
She started pacing, running her fingers through her hair, her rational mind frantically searching for a framework to contain the madness. "You expect me to believe an angel—"
"Fallen," Kenji automatically corrected.
"—is just walking around our suburban neighborhood like it's normal? And nobody knows? And that he was just dropping by for a chat? 'Oh, hello, mind if I charm your wife while I'm here?' Kenji, do you realize how insane that sounds?"
She stopped mid-stride, her words dying in her throat. She stared, her eyes fixed on his outstretched, upturned palm.
Hovering a few inches above his skin, a small, perfect sphere of pure, radiant orange flame flickered to life. Its light was casting dancing shadows on their bedroom walls. It spun lazily in the air above his hand. The gold in his eyes flared, mirroring the flame's intensity.
"I… I… I…" she stammered, stumbling backward onto the bed, her mind completely overloaded. The rational defense mechanisms she'd built over a lifetime had collapsed under the weight of this single, impossible sight.
She watched, mesmerized, as Kenji slowly closed his hand, and the flame instantly winked out, leaving no trace of smoke or lingering warmth.
"How?" she whispered out, wide eyes staring at his empty hand. She reached out and tentatively took his hand, holding it firmly, turning it over and over in profound awe.
Before he could elaborate, the silence was broken by a loud, cheerful bang from downstairs.
"We're home! And we got ice cream!" Aoi's voice rang through the house, immediately wrenching them back to reality.
Kenji sighed and gave Anastasia a small, tight smile, pulling his hands back. "How about we wait for now? I promise I will explain everything tonight." He stood and stretched out a hand to her.
She looked hesitant, pale, and deeply overwhelmed, but then she took his hand, letting him pull her up. Whatever storm of confusion raged in her mind could wait, her children were back, and they needed them.
Downstairs, the house quickly filled with warmth, Aoi's delighted chatter about her day, Ren's tired but happy laughter, and the gentle clatter of silverware.
For a while, the five of them sat at the dinner table.
But Kenji noticed that Ayaka, normally the liveliest and most spirited at the table, was strangely subdued. She kept poking her dinner, the food barely touched, her gaze lost in thought.
"Ayaka," he called out gently, keeping his tone casual.
She flinched, her eyes snapping up, startled out of her reverie. "Huh? What?"
"You okay?" he asked. "You're barely eating. Is the food okay? You're awfully quiet."
"Oh, um… I'm fine. Just thinking about a test, Dad. I'm just not hungry," she muttered, forcing a quick, unconvincing smile. She shoved her chair back suddenly. "I think I'm going to my room to study."
Kenji watched her go, a faint crease forming on his brow. He made a mental note to check on her before bed.
Upstairs, Ayaka dropped onto her bed, not bothering to change out of her uniform. She lay there, staring blankly at the ceiling. Her mind was in absolute chaos.
The supernatural is real. Devils, angels, fallen, gods… they're all real.
She replayed the conversation with Rias Gremory in her mind. Rias had called for her in their club room and said she wanted to talk. Senpai had been elegant, beautiful, persuasive, and terrifyingly honest.
She had shown Ayaka the truth, conjuring a deep crimson magical circle that sizzled on the classroom floor. Then came the offer:
"Join my peerage. Become one of my servants, a Devil."
The benefits were almost too dazzling to comprehend, power, the freedom to wield magic, a life of eternal youth and beauty, and the security of belonging to an elite, powerful family. The allure of pure magic, the chance to actually do something like magic, was like a siren song.
And yet…
Ayaka sighed, covering her eyes with her arm. Her finger traced the outline of her shirt. She didn't like the word servant.
She had grown up fast in the shadows of their family's turbulent past, when her mother was preoccupied with work and her father was often mysteriously absent, she was the one who kept the household running. She managed Aoi and Ren, cooked simple meals, and acted as the junior anchor of the family, her maturity forced by necessity.
She had earned her independence and her sense of self-reliance.
The deal, as Rias presented it, felt like a beautifully wrapped package hiding a golden cage. Rias might promise friendship and mentorship, but the Evil Piece System was fundamentally a contract, as she picked up from Rias's explanation, a binding chain.
Ayaka understood the subtext, she would be a chest piece, a tool owned by a powerful Master. She was smart enough to know that pretty words concealed iron laws of servitude.
Was she willing to give up her own freedom and self-determination to serve someone else, simply for the sake of power?
She wasn't a reckless child. That innate self-control was why she hadn't jumped at the chance. The offer wasn't all bad, but was she ready?
She sighed again, rolling onto her side. "Magic, huh?" she muttered softly, the temptation burning like hot coal in her chest.
She rolled around in her bed for a while, whining about the unfairness of the world. She really, really wanted magic. Maybe...maybe she should take the chance. After all its Rias she would serve, and her peerage didn't look half bad, except for the perverted monkey.
That was also a con for joining, being stuck with that for eternity would be hell.
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