A/N: Just so no one gets confused, each section will be days since school started. So Day 1, would be the first day of school, and so on.
XXX
Day 1: Toshio Perspective
The hallway was bustling with female students.
A few clusters of students loitered near windows or lockers, but the usual morning buzz felt muted—controlled. There was a strange undertone of tension, like the academy itself was still adjusting to its new shape. Maybe that was just , or maybe it was the fact that I was the only guy walking these halls.
The only boy in a school that had only just gone co-ed this year.
My shoes clicked evenly against the waxed floor as I rounded the corner toward Class 1-A. My uniform fit well—pressed, clean, and unremarkable. Speaking of uniforms, the female uniform really was outrageous. Vest cutouts for busts, skirts so short that a slight breeze threatened a wardrobe malfunction. Yet, I couldn’t find it in myself to complain. Must be the adolescent hormones. Probably.
I walked toward the classroom. Just another student. Just another face.
I wish.
I was being stared down from almost every angle. It was difficult to ignore. I hate attention. Why am I here again?
I sighed. I adjusted the strap on my bag and stepped into the classroom.
And ti slowed.
The first thing I saw—truly saw—was her.
Crimson hair. Vivid, blood-bright and luminous in the morning light that stread through the tall windows. It frad her pale skin like a painter’s flourish, bold and deliberate. She sat near the windows, one leg crossed over the other, posture relaxed but perfectly aligned. Her presence wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be. It was magnetic.
Rias Gremory.
Sitting beside her, like the counterpart to a matched blade, was Akeno Hijima. Long black hair, tied in a ribbon, flowed like silk over her shoulder. Her expression was soft—almost shy at a glance—but her eyes told a different story. Calculated. Coy.
Two queens of a forgotten court, placed quietly among students who couldn’t begin to fathom what they really were.
My breath hitched.
Only for a second.
"That level of beauty is unreal. Supernatural." It probably was.
I recovered fast enough that no one noticed.
I think.
But she had been watching since the mont I stepped inside. Her gaze already locked to mine, as if she’d been waiting. A second of stillness passed between us, maybe two. No words. Just a quiet collision of eye contact that lasted longer than it should have.
Sothing in my chest stirred. Heat. Not emotion exactly. Just movent. A pulse that broke the stillness in .
It passed as quickly as it ca.
I looked away and made my way toward the back row, sliding into an empty seat near the middle. I didn’t need to be in the front like last life. I likely already knew everything they could possibly teach. I was two rows away from her.
"Who’s the hottie?" soone whispered—loud enough to be heard across two desks. "The only boy in school and he looks like that?"
I didn’t react.
But I was sure Rias heard it.
When I glanced back, her eyes were still on . She wasn’t hiding it. She looked at like she expected sothing. A word, a reaction, a tell.
I gave her none.
Pretended I hadn’t noticed.
Eventually, Akeno leaned in and whispered sothing—too soft to catch. Rias blinked once, and turned her head, just slightly. The spell broke.
The teacher walked in two minutes later.
She was... well, striking.
Her na, as I would later learn, was Fumiko Takashiro, Takashiro-sensei. Mid-thirties, with a curvy figure poured into a tight-fit black pencil skirt and a deep red blouse. A pair of rectangular glasses perched delicately on her nose, and her dark brown hair was pulled into a smooth bun with a few strands falling free in the front, softening her sharp cheekbones.
She had the kind of presence that suggested she knew she was attractive, and simply chose to carry herself with professionalism anyway.
"Good morning, everyone," she said, her voice smooth and warm. "Welco to Class 1-A. I’ll be your horoom instructor this year, so we’ll get to know each other very well."
Her smile made half the class straighten in their seats. "Let’s begin with introductions. We’ll go by sur na, alphabetically. Please stand, say your na, and anything you feel like sharing."
The usual parade began. Nervous voices. Polite half-bows. A few girls added hobbies or favorite foods. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Then, my na was called.
I stood slowly, keeping my tone level.
"Toshio Amano. Please take care of ."
That was all.
Short. Unemotional. Efficient.
A ripple of whispers followed. Predictable. I’d expected it.
"He’s so calm..."
"Wait, did you see his eyes?"
"...is he from overseas?"
I ignored it and sat down.
But three sets of eyes never left .
Sona Sitri—class rep candidate and known perfectionist—watched with passing interest, like she was already categorizing into so ntal spreadsheet. Her violet eyes flicked back to her notebook the mont I sat down.
Akeno regarded with curiosity. Amusent, maybe. Like she’d already started a ntal ga I hadn’t agreed to play.
And Rias... Rias stared with sothing deeper.
Not desire. Not suspicion.
Intrigue. I think. I hope.
She probably knew sothing was off. Not enough to identify it—but enough to see it.
I wasn’t just a normal human. They all knew it. Even if I looked the part. I knew that my current rank with Reiryoku dominion didn’t allow to hide my presence, hide my aura. That fact I still couldn’t rank it up was irritating.
The introductions continued.
Rias Gremory stood when her na was called. Her voice was refined, graceful.
"My na is Rias Gremory. I enjoy reading and tea. I look forward to spending the year with you all."
Simple. Flawless.
So girls audibly sighed in admiration.
Akeno followed next.
"Hi everyone! I’m Akeno Hijima. I like taking care of my family shrine and brewing tea. I’ll do my best to make this a good year!"
Her voice was honeyed, soft and teasing. The kind that made you lean in instinctively, as if she might whisper sothing just for you. I noticed a few girls had blushes on their faces. If there was a woman to turn a girl...
Sona’s turn ca near the end of the list.
"Souna Shitori. I enjoy chess. I expect to serve as class representative and I’ll ensure we maintain a strong academic standing."
There was a pause, followed by a smattering of claps. She didn’t smile. Just adjusted her glasses and sat back down. There was a different kind of admiration towards her.
Also, clapping? No one clapped for anyone else. That was weird.
After introductions, Takashiro-sensei clapped her hands lightly.
"I know this year is a little unusual," she said. "With our shift to co-ed structure, so of you might feel like you’re stepping into uncharted waters. Don’t worry—it’s new for all of us. This was made possible thanks to generous support from several private benefactors, and we’ll be maintaining a strict code of conduct to ensure everyone feels comfortable. Uniforms, attendance, and respectful behavior will be expected, as always. For now, it’s just Amano-san. I expect good behavior from you." She pointed at for emphasis. I simply nodded once, which seed to satisfy her.
The usual rules followed. No running in halls. Uniform skirt length enforcent (it had to be above mid-thigh?). Midterm warning dates. Clubs encouraged but not mandatory. She announced club etings start today and that we’d have an opportunity to scout and join them. I thought of kendo club almost imdiately.
Class drifted on from there.
For , the lecture barely registered. I took notes when needed (which was almost never), but most of the words blurred. My mind drifted—to the girls who weren’t supposed to be real, to the storylines that had once lived on my screen, and to the next three years I was about to live through from the inside.
I had no idea how closely I was already being watched.
And less idea what kind of ripple my presence might be causing.
But I could feel it.
Like a still lake, holding its breath just before the first drop lands. Throughout class, I had given Rias glances, not because I wanted to look, but because it felt like I was being watched. Each ti, she was peering at , an expression like she was trying to piece together a puzzle she couldn’t quite solve.
I bla my Reiryoku.
I wonder when the recruitnt pitch will co?
The rest of our first day classes were much the sa, minus introductions. Stares and glances from Rias included.
At the end of every class, a gaggle of girls would co to my desk, ask questions. So were innocuous, "What’s your favorite color?" And so were..."Amano-kun what’s furthest you’ve gone with a girl?"
I did my best to deflect or answer politely where I could. So questions I ignored outright. I hoped once the novelty of being the first boy at this school wore off, I would be left alone more. There’s no way I stayed this popular. Especially with Kiba on his way. I hope that handso devil (heh) took the heat off . Girls are WAY more forward in Japan than they were in Arica.
As soon as the last class ended, I headed for the kendo club room. With my skill, joining shouldn’t be difficult, right?
XXX
Day 17: Rias Perspective
I took a slow breath as I walked through the courtyard, my heeled school loafers tapping softly against the stone path.
The late afternoon sunlight stread through the leaves of the trees, creating a mosaic of gold-dappled shadows that danced across the lush expanse of Kuoh’s campus. The air was warm and inviting, a gentle caress that wrapped around like a soft blanket, perfectly ordinary in its tranquility. And yet—my mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, anything but tranquil.
Today, I’d finally decided.
Seventeen days.
Seventeen days of being in the sa classroom. Of passing glances, of shared air, of watching from across the room while he sohow ignored the fact that three devils—three high-class devils, mind you—were practically orbiting him with curiosity.
And yet, not once... not once... had he so much as flinched.
Toshio Amano.
I could understand it if he was oblivious. Plenty of humans were, especially boys and n. Being chard wasn’t always conscious. But that wasn’t it. He noticed. I know he did. I saw it in the way his eyes flicked toward whenever he caught looking, which was almost every ti. I saw it in the way he refused to engage—too deliberately, too composed.
It wasn’t defiance. It wasn’t shyness either.
It was... unreadable.
And that was precisely the problem.
I’ve been told my whole life that I’m captivating. srizing. A living fla in a world of candles. Even among devils, my natural charisma turns heads. Not just because I’m beautiful—though I am—but because I command attention. It’s in my blood. Gremory pride. Gremory poise. My brother used to say I inherited all of our mother’s charm and none of her patience.
But with Toshio?
Nothing.
No reaction. No slip in his mask. Just polite detachnt, like I was another student asking for a pencil.
It’s not that I need his attention. Of course not. That would be silly.
But... seventeen days?
That’s enough.
I adjusted my stride, heading toward the kendo club building, where I knew he’d be finishing up soon. His schedule was practically carved into stone now. Class. Kendo. Ho. Repeat.
At first, I’d only paid him casual attention. Anomalies were part of my job, this being my territory (Sona’s when I didn’t want to deal with sothing). Magical disturbances, unregistered auras, suspicious new transfers—I’m used to keeping tabs. But this wasn’t casual anymore.
He’d beco captain of the kendo club less than two weeks into the school year. And not just because he was the only boy. That wouldn’t have mattered. From what I gathered, he earned it. Earned it through sheer force of ability. Outdueled the forr captain in a clean 3–0 match. I hadn’t seen it myself, but the way word spread, I didn’t have to. Even Sona admitted it was impressive—and she doesn’t use that word lightly.
I’m used to strength. I’m surrounded by it. But refined strength and skill, paired with discipline, paired with such personality stillness?
That was rarer.
And then there were his grades.
Based on his current performance, I’d call him the male version of Sona. Perfect scores. Every test. Every quiz. It was like he had a private line to the answer key. Like he was reading directly out of a textbook. If a teacher wanted to call on soone to get a correct answer, they called on Sona or Toshio.
He never asked questions to clarify. He never stayed after class to ask a teacher a questions. It seed he only attended study halls to complete written assignnt, and quickly left. No matter the topic, he didn’t ever look confused.
Sona noticed.
Oh, did she notice.
She would never say it aloud—but I know that look. That tight press of her lips. That slow narrowing of her eyes whenever a perfect paper was handed back with his na on it.
They’re tied right now, in terms of academic ranking.
Tied.
Sona hasn’t been academically tied with anyone since she was six.
It’s delightful.
She tries to hide it, of course. All cool and composed, glasses adjusted just so. But every ti Toshio scores another 100, I swear her aura tightens just a little more. I’ve caught her glancing at him too—just once or twice—but enough.
I like him more every ti I see her get annoyed.
"Gremory-hi," soone whispered as I passed. "She’s like a real-life princess..." A group of girls huddled to together; soft squeals were heard.
I didn’t pay them any mind, other than a gentle nod of my head as a soft, but silent greeting.
Complints like that have followed since the day I arrived here. Kuoh has its own mythology about now. Half of it is exaggerated, the other half isn’t exaggerated enough, being a devil and all. I’ve co to let it wash over .
I rounded the corner toward the gym buildings, my shoes steady on the pavent. The kendo club should be starting soon. I’d tid it this way on purpose.
Because the truth was—I’d already tried to learn more.
I’d sent Koneko to tail him.
A few tis, actually.
The first ti? Boring. Straight to the dojo. Trained for hours. Walked ho. Backpack gone, shinai case in hand. No red flags—aside from the fact that he left his school supplies behind. Who even does that? He hadn’t gone back though...
Still, maybe he had multiple copies of school supplies. Maybe he just didn’t care. Would fit into his apparent lack of studying.
But the last ti Koneko followed?
That was different.
Kendo club wasn’t eting that day. And instead of going ho like usual, he turned and walked toward the forest at the edge of town. Koneko followed—silent, cautious, almost curious herself. and Koneko both are confident in her stealth abilities. Probably cos from being a Nekomata.
He rounded a bend a normal walking pace.
When Koneko turned the corner shortly after... he was gone.
Vanished. No trace. No sound. Just empty road and sidewalks and too many unanswered questions about his apparent powers.
I don’t like unanswered questions.
Especially not ones wrapped in such a frustratingly attractive package.
So today, I would change that.
No more tailing. No more observing from afar. I would talk to him. Directly. No pressure. No manipulation. Just... a friendly chat.
And maybe an invitation.
After all, he’s caught my interest.
And not many things do.
I rounded the final corner just in ti to see the door to the kendo club building co into view. A breeze pulled at the hem of my skirt, carrying with it the scent of sakura and wood polish—both familiar notes in the air around this building, given the ti of year.
And then he was there.
Toshio Amano, just a few steps ahead, turned the corner from the other direction and nearly collided with . He stopped abruptly, his fra tensing slightly, only inches away from . I felt the shift in wind as he stopped, his scent carrying on like it didn’t get the mo. He slled...nice.
For a mont, we stood close—closer than we had ever been before. He took a step back quickly after.
His expression shifted from surprise to neutrality in the span of a heartbeat. Composed. Almost impressively so.
"Sorry, Gremory-san. Please excuse ," he said politely, bowing his head affably. His voice was calm. Clear. Smooth in that way his academic answers always were—asured, efficient.
I raised a hand gently and pressed it to his chest, stopping his motion before he could walk past .
"Wait," I said, my voice softer than I intended. "It’s alright. I was actually hoping to speak with you."
I felt his chest shift under my fingers—just a small breath, caught sowhere in the middle. His eyes lifted to et mine, and for the first ti, I noticed how piercingly blue they were. Like deep, clear water under moonlight. Not just striking—they were unsettling in how still they were. As if he saw through layers most wouldn’t even know to hide.
He gave a look that bordered on understanding. Almost like he already knew what I had co to say.
"We’re in the sa class," I said, clearing my throat slightly. "But I realized we haven’t properly introduced ourselves. Not formally, at least."
He nodded slightly. "That’s true. Toshio Amano, 1st year."
Brief. Neutral. And there it was again—distance, wrapped in civility, the way he spoke to everyone.
His gaze dipped—subtle, but I noticed. And I realized belatedly that my hand still rested lightly on his chest. The warmth of him beneath his uniform had caught off guard. I withdrew my hand slowly.
"I’m Rias Gremory," I said, recovering smoothly. "President of the Occult Research Club. We occupy the old school building just beyond the west courtyard."
He nodded once, not even bothering to pretend it was news. "I’ve passed by." His voice was the sa understated baritone, as if nothing in the universe could rattle it.
"Hm." I orchestrated a small smile, the sort that blurred the line between invitation and challenge. "You should stop by soti. You might be surprised what you’ll find." I leaned into the word "surprised" just slightly—a test, a tease. It didn’t work.
His answer was frustratingly vague. "I might. If ti allows."
There it is, or isn’t. No blush. No spark of intrigue in his voice. He wasn’t flustered. Not even curious, it seed. And that was—impossible. My inherent charm didn’t just work on people, it lured them. Enticed them. Yet he stood there like I was just another classmate.
Not like I tried to use it against humans regularly, but I’ve observed the passive effects enough to know.
I felt a flash of irritation, despite myself. It was like flirting with the concept of gravity. My inherent devilish allure—gentler than compulsion, stronger than re charm—should at least force a blush. Or a heartbeat out of rhythm. Or a stamr. But he just stood there, polite and unflinching, the eye of his own emotional storm.
"Do I make you uncomfortable?" I asked plainly, watching his reaction carefully.
He blinked once. "No, not at all."
No hesitation. Not even a flicker of dishonesty.
"Then what is it?" I asked, stepping just slightly into his space again. "You’ve barely looked my way since school began. Even the others can’t help but stare."
He exhaled, almost as if he were tired of the question. "I just don’t see the point of pretending to be amazed by sothing that clearly expects to be admired."
That... actually stung a little.
I smiled despite myself. "So you think I expect admiration?"
He t my gaze evenly. "You wouldn’t walk through school with that aura if you didn’t."
There was no sarcasm in his voice—just quiet certainty. It wasn’t ant to wound. It was simply true to him. It’s like he has an immune system for targeted charisma.
I let out a short breath—half laugh, half sigh. "You’re unlike anyone I’ve t here, Amano-san."
"That seems to be a common opinion lately," he said, almost dryly. "And it’s just Toshio, if we’re going to keep talking. I dislike being called my last na."
I let his na roll through my thoughts once. Toshio.
"I’d like that," I said.
He tilted his head, just a fraction. "Would you?"
"Yes." I offered him a more genuine smile this ti. Not the practiced one I used when getting what I wanted—but sothing quieter.
He tilted his head, and the blue of his eyes caught the light. "You’re... not like the rumors." He said it with the careful neutrality of soone inspecting a gemstone for flaws.
"You’re less... theatrical." I had to laugh at that.
"Disappointed?" He shook his head, and there, I thought I saw a single micro-expression; approval?
"The contrary." I was taken aback slightly by those two words, yet he still wore that frustrating neutral expression.
"Does it bother you?" I asked, softer now. "My aura." He regarded , and for a mont, his gaze flickered to my right side briefly, where one would expect a wing to pop up. A subtle tell. Did he know?
"No," he said. "But I am curious why you wear it like armor." The words struck deeper than I cared to admit. I felt my composure slip, just for a heartbeat.
"Maybe I don’t have a choice. Maybe it’s just who I am." I noticed my expression had beco slightly guarded.
"Maybe." Flat delivery. No change in expression.
"You’re not easy to read, Toshio. I don’t like that."
"I’ll try not to lose sleep over it." Sothing about the flat delivery...
I laughed before I could stop myself, placing the back of my hand against my mouth. Did he just smirk?
He turned slightly toward the kendo club door. "I should go. Club starts soon."
"Of course," I said. "But think about visiting. We have excellent tea."
That earned the barest curl at the edge of his lip—if you could call it a smile.
"I’ll consider it."
And with that, he moved past .
"Oh and Toshio?" He turned to with his hand on the door.
"Next ti, you can be the one to ask questions. It’s only fair." I simply smiled. He snorted out air and gave a half smile!
"I’ll consider it." Then he opened the door and walked in. He said that again on purpose didn’t he.
I watched him go, my gaze lingering longer than I ant it to. That half smile, was the most I’ve seen him emote since he started at this school. But throughout our entire conversation, he remained the sa as before.
Still unreadable. Still maddening.
But definitely not uninteresting.
He hadn’t looked back once.
I wasn’t sure if that annoyed more... or intrigued further.
I sighed as I started walking to the ORC building.
"Can’t wait for Akeno to tease about how this went," I spoke softly to myself as I walked away.
XXX
Day 21: Toshio Perspective
I adjusted my grip on my bag as I climbed the main stairwell, the morning light filtering through the windows behind in long, diagonal shafts. It caught the dust in the air, turning each step into a stage. My footfalls were steady. Quiet.
Kendo had been going well.
Better than expected, honestly.
When I first joined, the girls were suspicious of my intentions—understandably so. First-year boy joins an all-girls club in a school that just went co-ed? The math did itself. The stares, the whispers, the quiet assessnts—they were constant for the first two days.
So I just started blas— swinging.
By the end of that third day, suspicion turned into awe. And lust, I think. When I started sparring seriously, showing control and technique that didn’t just match theirs but surpassed it—without arrogance or theatrics—they started watching. Really watching.
By the ti I fought Hozuki-senpai and won, awe (and more lust) had replaced doubt. But not everyone was quick to follow.
So of the girls, especially the older second-years who had looked up to Hozuki, were hesitant to take instruction from as their new captain. I could feel it during drills—the resistance in their stances, the way so of them executed footwork with forced precision rather than intention.
They respected the match result, sure. But that didn’t an they trusted yet.
So I taught.
Other than changing their regin to sothing closer to what the dojo had, I broke down forms and explained why each movent mattered. I adjusted stances mid-swing, walked through their errors, demonstrated silently when needed.
I didn’t bark orders—I gave clarity. Guidance. Then I started seeing results.
Footing improved. Guard recovery got faster. Reaction tis sharpened. Strikes more precise.
They noticed the jump in skill.
And the hesitance faded.
By the second week, the whispers had changed. Not flirtation. Not uncertainty.
Respect and admiration, as a leader (though I still couldn’t escape so lust).
I started getting questions after practice. Notes handed to between sessions asking for personal feedback. Nods when I entered the room. They started organizing without my prompting. So of them even ford their own drills based on the feedback I gave.
It wasn’t praise I was after—but it felt good to see the effect. To know I was helping them grow.
For my efforts, I receiving sothing that made it even easier.
{New Skill Acquired: Combat Instruction (Rank 1)
You have demonstrated consistent and effective guidance in martial disciplines. Your ability to teach others has taken form as a skill. Students under your guidance learn faster and retain more. Efficiency of training sessions increased by 25%. Improves cooperation and trust with subordinates in structured combat environnts.}
It was... strange. I didn’t even know that was a possible skill.
But it made sense.
I wasn’t just getting better. I was helping others get better. With less effort. Faster. Like the system was rewarding for not hoarding my advantages.
I started to think maybe I should use this more intentionally. Create my own training manuals. Tailor specific regins for different fighters based on their styles and instincts. Test different pacing thods to see what—
Fwump.
I didn’t even get to process the warning signs as I stepped on the final riser.
She rounded the corner fast, too fast. Intentionally fast.
Akeno?
All black hair and radiant skin and montum. I had just enough ti to register the flutter of her skirt, the sudden perfu of lavender and white plum—
And then—
Softness.
My eyes widened slightly, not because of the contact, but because she kept coming forward. I staggered back a step. Her boobs had collided with my face like a pair of heat-seeking missiles, pointing tips and all. I felt the impact across both cheeks.
Soft. Supple. Warm.
I could sll her soap.
Akeno made a surprised sound—a small, startled gasp—as she stumbled into . I tried to regain footing but the weight distribution was off, her montum was off, and the damn stairs behind were the worst possible terrain for this.
We were falling.
"No. Absolutely not.
Like hell this is going to end up like so cliché harem ani where I land on the ground with a girl’s crotch on my face. I know how this world works. That is exactly how this ends if I don’t fix it."
The stairs lood behind , eager to ruin my dignity. But I didn’t let instinct take over...wait why was that even there?
I acted.
My hands snapped around her waist, fingers curling instinctively. The fabric of her uniform was soft under my grip, but beneath it, I could feel the tautness of muscle and the warmth of skin. She gasped, her body jerking slightly at the sudden contact, but I held firm, steadying her as the world seed to tilt.
My right foot tensed. Reiryoku pulsed along my limbs. The air around us shimred faintly, bending under the weight of compressed energy.
Shunpo—
We vanished from the top step and reappeared at the landing in a blur of compressed wind.
The world caught up a second later. The air snapped back into place with a muted whoosh.
Akeno blinked, her eyes wide searching mine in brief confusion, her hands clinging instinctively to my shoulders. "W-What just—?"
"You would’ve fallen," I said evenly, releasing my hold on her waist as I stepped back slightly to give her space. My tone was calm—asured—but beneath it lingered a faint trace of adrenaline.
She wobbled slightly, blinking again before stabilizing. Her body still radiated surprise—and sothing else. Was she blushing? Her hands slowly slid off my shoulders as she straightened, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"I was fine," she said with a faint pout, clearly lying.
I tilted my head. "Mm. You’re welco, then."
Akeno smiled, that familiar curve of amusent playing on her lips. "My hero~," she said sweetly, her voice dancing with that usual playful edge.
I said nothing, already trying to step past her. She blocked with a light hand to my chest.
"You really are quick," she mused, tapping her chin with one finger. "Though... you did fall awfully gracefully into . Almost like you aid for the softest spot on purpose."
My eyes t hers. Calm. Neutral.
"I aid to not fall."
She giggled. "And yet... that was quite the impact. Was it everything you imagined?"
"No," I said. "Softer." Just being honest.
She blinked once, then laughed. A full laugh this ti, delighted and utterly amused. "Oh, Toshio-kun—if you’re not careful, you’ll make swoon."
"I’ll brace for the worst," I replied dryly, stepping past her again.
Before I could make it more than three steps, her voice followed .
"Would you like to have lunch with Rias and today?"
I paused.
Turned slightly.
She smiled innocently. "We’ve noticed how solitary you’ve been lately. Just a little invite. No tricks."
I hesitated.
It was obviously a trick.
But that didn’t an I had to resist.
"...Alright."
She lit up like soone had just offered her a ring and a castle. "Yay~!"
She literally jumped. Not a big one—just a small, delighted hop.
Her chest bounced as if physics had a personal grudge against my self-control.
I didn’t an to look.
I really didn’t.
But I did.
For half a second.
She caught it.
Her grin widened.
"...I’ll see you in class," I said, turning quickly.
"Why are my cheeks warm? Wait don’t tell I’m..." I didn’t finish the thought.
"Looking forward to lunch Toshio-kun~" she sang after .
I walked up the stairs without another word. My stride even. asured. Calm.
But in the back of my mind?
I couldn’t ignore the pattern anymore.
Rias one day. Akeno the next.
No way it was a coincidence.
They weren’t just curious—they were intentional. Purposeful. Like two stars adjusting their orbits, drawing just a little closer each ti they passed. No sudden rush. No bold declarations. Just subtle gravity gradually drawing into their orbit.
And I was starting to feel the pull.
When I first ca to this world, I made a vow. A quiet one, etched into the marrow of this second life. That I wouldn’t waste it chasing the sa empty milestones. That I wouldn’t sacrifice myself for humanity. That I’d truly live.
This ti, I’d pay attention. I’d reach for things I never let myself want before. That my brain told I didn’t want.
Connection. Experience. Life beyond the sterile logic I used to hide behind.
I didn’t know what kind of ga Rias and Akeno were playing. Devils didn’t move without purpose, especially ones like them. Whether it was amusent, curiosity, or strategy—I wasn’t naïve enough to think this was random. If I hazard a guess, it was likely sothing to do with the recruitnt pitch. Maybe it wasn’t.
But whatever it was?
I don’t think I’m going to run from it.
I’d play along.
Because for the first ti in a long ti, I wanted to see where sothing led.
I wanted to know how far they’d go.
And maybe... how far I would. Could.
Maybe they could end up friends, like Murayama and Katase.
I entered the classroom and took my seat without fanfare. The teacher hadn’t arrived yet.
From across the room, I felt Rias glance up. Our eyes t, briefly. She had a knowing smirk.
I looked away first this ti. Then at Akeno’s empty seat.
"Wait why was she going down the stairs if this is our class..."
"..."
"She was totally waiting at the top of the stairs to do that." I could feel my face deadpan.
I sighed. Not a terrible way to feel boobs for the first ti in this life I guess.
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