Silas arrived home, the plastic convenience store bags rustling as he kicked the door shut behind him. He flicked on the kitchen light—bright and unforgiving at this hour—and started unloading: onigiri stacked neatly on the middle shelf, karaage and steamed buns in the freezer section, Pocky and milk tea on the door shelves. The fridge door closed with a satisfying *thunk*, finally looking lived-in instead of abandoned.
He headed straight for the bathroom, peeling off his jacket and shirt on the way. The shower was hot and quick—steam fogging the mirror, water pounding against his back until the lingering scent of night air and fried chicken washed away.
He stood under the spray a little longer than necessary, letting the heat loosen the faint tension from the stray hunt and the unexpected konbini run-in.
Towel around his waist, he padded to his bedroom and changed into comfortable wear: loose gray sweatpants and a black tank top that clung just enough to show the lean muscle underneath. No need for anything fancy tonight.
He plopped onto the couch—soft leather creaking under his weight—and stretched out, one arm behind his head, remote forgotten on the coffee table.
' So far so good,' he thought, staring up at the ceiling. ' School's weirdly fun, Rias's crew is solid, Sona's more interesting than i thought… Can't wait for the real action to start—the fallen angels, the dragons, the Rating Games. But for now… I'll just chill.'
The apartment was quiet except for the low hum of the fridge and the distant city noise filtering through the balcony door. His eyes grew heavy.
Unlike the actual Beerus—who could nap for decades and still wake up cranky—Silas had perfect control over his sleep. He let himself drift anyway, sinking into the cushions.
…
Next morning came bright and clear, sunlight slanting through the half-open curtains and painting stripes across the living room floor. Silas woke exactly when he wanted—6:45 a.m.. He stretched once, joints popping, then headed to the kitchen for a quick breakfast: leftover onigiri and black coffee strong enough to wake the dead.
He was halfway through tying his tie when the doorbell rang.
Silas raised an eyebrow. 'Early visitors?'
He opened the door.
Sona stood there in full uniform—blazer crisp, skirt pleated, hair pinned back perfectly. Beside her was Tsubaki Shinra, her Queen: tall, statuesque, with jet-black hair that fell in a long, glossy cascade past her waist. Her glasses caught the hallway light, giving her an air of quiet authority, but her eyes were sharp, assessing—scanning Silas from head to toe like she was cataloging every detail: height, build, posture, the faint purple glint in his irises.
Silas leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, meeting Tsubaki's gaze without blinking. He didn't smile, didn't speak—just held the stare, calm and unyielding.
The silence stretched for a solid five seconds.
Then Tsubaki's lips curved into a small, approving smile.
"It's nice to meet you," she said, voice smooth and measured.
"Nice to meet you as well," Silas replied, letting a slow grin spread across his face. "Who knew Kuoh had such a cute girl attending?"
A faint blush dusted Tsubaki's cheeks—barely noticeable unless you were looking—but her smile widened just a fraction, pleased.
"Come on," she said lightly, adjusting her glasses with one finger. "I'm nearly as pretty as the president."
Silas chuckled, not taking the bait, and turned his attention to Sona—who had been watching the exchange in complete silence, arms folded, expression carefully neutral.
"We should get to school," he said, pushing off the doorframe. "Wouldn't want to be late."
He stepped past them, locking the door behind him, and started walking down the hallway without looking back.
Tsubaki and Sona fell into step a moment later, trailing just behind.
Tsubaki kept her gaze forward, posture returning to its usual stoic poise—hands clasped behind her back, steps measured. But after a few paces, she spoke quietly, just loud enough for Sona to hear.
"He seems nice," she observed. "When will you ask him out?"
Sona's step faltered for half a heartbeat. Her cheeks flushed pink almost instantly.
"I don't like him like that," she said quickly—too quickly.
Tsubaki didn't press. She simply inclined her head.
"Very well."
But in the privacy of her own mind:
' Wouldn't mind keeping him for myself if she won't take him.'
They continued down the hallway, the three of them falling into an easy rhythm—Silas leading, the two devils following close enough to talk but far enough to give space. Morning sunlight streamed through the building windows, catching on Tsubaki's long hair and Sona's glasses.
Silas glanced back once, catching both their eyes.
"Coming?" he asked, voice light.
Sona huffed softly.
And with that, the three of them headed toward Kuoh Academy—another ordinary morning that felt anything but.
The day passed without much trouble—same routine, same lectures, same stolen glances from classmates who still couldn't figure out how the mysterious transfer student had somehow become the center of gravity for both Rias Gremory *and* Sona Sitri's circles. Silas kept his head down during class, took notes when he felt like it, and answered questions with just enough charm to stay memorable without drawing too much heat.
During break, though, things shifted.
Sona appeared at the classroom door—uniform impeccable, glasses glinting, posture straight as ever.
She'd come under the pretense of "checking on a council matter," but her real reason became obvious the moment she stepped inside.
There was Silas, lounging at his desk with Rias perched on the edge of it (legs crossed, crimson hair spilling over one shoulder), Akeno leaning against the wall behind him with that signature teasing smile, and even Koneko sitting quietly on a nearby desk nibbling a cookie while occasionally glancing his way.
They weren't doing anything scandalous—just talking, laughing softly, Silas saying something low that made Rias flush pink and swat his arm playfully.
Sona froze in the doorway for half a second.
The sight hit harder than she expected: the casual intimacy, the easy way Silas fit between them like he'd always been there, the way Rias looked at him like he was the only person in the room. A sharp, unfamiliar pang twisted in her chest—jealousy, raw and unexpected.
She adjusted her glasses unnecessarily, schooled her expression back to neutral, and cleared her throat.
"Silas. A word about the upcoming cultural festival preparations."
He glanced up, purple eyes meeting hers with that same calm amusement.
"Sure thing, President."
But as Sona turned to leave, she caught one last glimpse—Rias leaning closer to whisper something in his ear, Akeno giggling behind her hand—and the twist in her stomach tightened.
' No,' she thought fiercely as she walked down the hallway. ' I won't let Rias have him'
By the time the final bell rang, the resolve had hardened into quiet determination.
Silas didn't linger. He packed his bag, gave Rias and Akeno a casual wave and headed out the gates without waiting for anyone to follow.
Instead of going straight home, he decided to detour into the actual shopping district. The fridge needed real food—not just konbini survival rations.
' Honestly, for a town riddled with devils and all kinds of evil lurking, it's surprisingly calm,' he thought as he walked.
People hurried past with shopping bags, kids laughed outside a café, salarymen checked their phones at crosswalks.
He crossed the pedestrian bridge over the main road—wide concrete steps, metal railings painted faded green, the hum of traffic below. Halfway up, he paused.
There, at the top landing, stood Issei Hyoudou—the protagonist himself—face flushed, eyes wide, stammering in front of a pretty girl with long black hair tied in twin tails. She wore the Kuoh girls' uniform perfectly, smile sweet and innocent.
Yuuma Amano.
Better known as Raynare.
Silas stopped a respectful distance away, leaning against the railing to watch the scene unfold like it was live theater.
' Wow. Is it that time already?' he thought. ' I'm lucky enough to witness it I guess'
Issei scratched the back of his head, blushing furiously.
"Y-Yeah… sure! I'd love to go out with you, Yuuma!"
Raynare's smile widened—angelic, predatory.
"Really? I'm so happy!"
Silas didn't interfere. He just pushed off the railing and walked past them without a glance.
As he passed, Raynare's gaze flicked toward him—brief, almost imperceptible.
Her brows furrowed for a split second.
' That's odd. I feel… nothing from him? Almost like he's not there.'
No demonic aura, no holy light, no life force signature she could latch onto. Just… absence. Like staring into empty space wearing a human face.
She dismissed it almost immediately—focus on the target, the easy kill—and turned back to Issei with renewed sweetness.
Silas kept walking. He finished the rest of his grocery run, paid in cash, and started the trek home as the sun dipped below the horizon. Streetlights flickered on one by one. The sky turned deep indigo.
Halfway across the same bridge—now empty except for him—the world shifted.
The air thickened. Colors bled out. The concrete under his feet darkened to a deep, swirling purple-black, like ink poured into water. Streetlights dimmed to sickly violet glows. The distant city sounds muffled into eerie silence.
Silas stopped. Looked around slowly.
Then forward.
Yuuma Amano stood there—still in her school uniform, smile sweet as candy.
"Hi," she said, stepping closer with deliberate grace. "I saw you earlier. My name is Amano Yuuma."
She stopped right in front of him—close enough that he could smell the faint floral perfume she wore as camouflage.
"I thought you looked cute," she continued in that practiced, adorable tone. "Could you please give me your number? I'd love to hang out with you sometime."
Silas watched her.
His expression stayed blank—almost bored. No surprise, no fear, no flustered stammering like Issei would've done.
Purple eyes met hers, unblinking.
He tilted his head slightly.
Then—
TO BE CONTINUED