Noir Sullivan was dragged through the echoing halls of the administration building by the formidable Ameri Azazel. His initial panic was twofold: first, the exposure of his secret origin; and second, the crushing grip on his arm, which confirmed her immense anger.
Inner Monologue (Noir):She knows! She knows I'm from the human realm! She's taking me to a cell! I'm going to be dissected for defying demonic botany! This is it!
He braced himself for a secure dungeon or, worse, a highly public and humiliating interrogation.
The Office and The Translator's Task 📚
To his profound surprise, Ameri didn't take him to a dungeon. She hauled him straight into the lavish, highly secure confines of the Student Council President's Office. She practically threw him into an opulent, plush velvet chair facing her massive, meticulously organized desk.
Ameri herself marched to her concealed compartment, retrieving the entire, precious collection of "First Love Memories", and dumped the stack unceremoniously onto the desktop. She sat down, her usual military posture rigid, but her eyes burning with an uncharacteristic, almost desperate fervor.
AMERI: "Sit! And prepare yourself, Sullivan. We have an extensive task ahead."
Noir looked from the immense stack of forbidden books to the fiercely serious President, utterly confused.
NOIR: (Cautiously) "President... I thought you were going to call your father and have me transferred to a maximum-security facility?"
AMERI: (Waving a dismissive hand) "Containment can wait! The immediate strategic priority is intelligence gathering. Your abilities—your specialized knowledge of the human realm's language—are critical. You are to read these documents. Now."
Noir picked up the first volume. He recognized the script easily, the familiar letters and characters snapping into place in his memory. It was then he had a sudden realization about Ameri.
Noir's Observation: Sullivan had given him a necklace that allowed him to instantly read and understand the demonic language (which usually appeared as abstract symbols to him). If he, a human, required magical aid to read demonic script, it was highly probable that demons, in turn, couldn't read the script of the human realm.
He glanced at Ameri, who was staring at the colorful cover with a mixture of reverence and utter confusion.
NOIR:She can't read the story herself! All this time, she's only been interpreting the pictures! She just wants to know what happens!
Ameri, meanwhile, had an internal battle raging.
Inner Monologue (Ameri):I am doing this purely for strategic reasons. I must confirm the exact purpose of the 'pork cutlet sandwich' reference and its implications for human societal structure. This is not because I need to know if Sakura confesses before the festival! This is not because this is the most heart-throbbing, profound story I have ever encountered! I must assess the threat.
Ameri cleared her throat, returning to her formal demeanor.
AMERI: "Proceed, Sullivan. Start from the beginning. Translate the human realm's narrative word-for-word. Do not omit any details, no matter how insignificant they may seem to your people. Pay particular attention to the nuances of their 'love' concept—it appears to be a powerful and central facet of their culture."
And so began the secret, late-night translation session. Noir, realizing his life depended on proving his compliance (and admittedly curious to read his favorite manga again), dove into the task.
He spent the next few hours reading aloud, translating the dialogue, the internal monologues, and the dramatic sound effects ("D-DOKI!" "whoosh").
Ameri listened, rapt. She took furious, meticulous notes in a leather-bound notebook, categorizing concepts like "holding hands (casual touch)" and "indirect confession (high-level subtlety)." The security threat was momentarily forgotten in favor of the emotional complexities of high school romance.
Noir lost all track of time, absorbed in the nostalgia of the human world and the drama of Sakura and Kenji. When he finally looked up, his eyes were momentarily blinded by the light filtering through the window—the light of the approaching dawn.
The office was cast in a pale, silvery blue, and the stack of finished books on the desk was significantly larger than the stack of unfinished ones.
NOIR: (Stretching, yawning) "Wow... that got dark. I mean, bright. Sorry, President, I lost track of time."
He pulled out his familiar-phone to check the time and immediately saw a torrent of missed calls and urgent texts from Opera and Grandpa Sullivan, who were likely worried sick about his disappearance.
Before Noir could open the flood of messages, Ameri moved with the speed of a predator. She snatched the phone right out of his hand.
AMERI: "Your immediate familial ties are a known complication. They are likely worried you were transferred."
She quickly navigated the interface, her brow furrowed in concentration. Ameri typed rapidly, her fingers surprisingly nimble, and placed the phone back in his hand.
AMERI: "I have inserted my secure contact information into your device. You are to save it under a nondescript code. Next time, you will come to my office alone. You are not to inform your grandfather or your attendants where you are going. This is a matter of the highest strategic confidentiality."
Noir stared at the contact screen: Azazel Ameri - S.C.P.
She then walked him to the door, her presidential demeanor fully restored, yet her gaze still held that tell-tale intensity of a person who desperately needs to know what happens next.
AMERI: "You have performed a vital service, Sullivan. Until next time."
NOIR: "Yes, ma'am. Uh, goodbye."
He turned to leave, but then, hesitantly, he stopped. He realized he had spent hours with her, shared her greatest secret, and yet their interaction had been defined purely by their positions.
NOIR: (Quietly) "President Azazel... before I go. You introduced yourself formally, but I didn't return the gesture correctly earlier. My name is Noir."
Ameri blinked, a flicker of softness touching her intense gaze.
AMERI: "I am Ameri. Farewell, Noir."
Noir exited the administration building and saw the Chaos Lion and the Aether Tiger still lurking nervously at the base of the massive tree, waiting for him. They had watched the entire, intense scene from afar.
As Noir walked towards them, tired but strangely relieved, the Tiger gave him a questioning, rumbling growl.
Aether Tiger:Did the King survive the wrath?
NOIR: (Shaking his head, already translating the next manga volume in his head) "I survived, but I think I just got assigned the most dangerous, highly classified tutoring gig in the entire Demon World."