The Occult Research Club room, nestled within Kuoh Academy's old schoolhouse, exudes a timeless elegance. Its wood-paneled walls and Victorian-style furnishings create a warm, refined atmosphere.
Rias put down her smartphone, her crimson hair catching the light as she leaned back in her chair. A thoughtful crease formed between her brows.
Akeno Himejima, standing nearby with her usual composed smile, tilted her head slightly.
"Is something wrong? Is he okay?"
"He is alright, he aplogized for getting into the fight too. It's just that..." Rias' voice trailed off.
Akeno blinked, the faintest furrow creasing her brow. "Rias?"
Without answering, Rias reached for the iPad propped on its stand. She tapped the screen. The security footage played silently—Issei, in the cafeteria, taking on Hiro's gang with fierce intensity.
Akeno's eyes followed his movement. "He's more skilled than he lets on," she commented.
"That's what I thought at first, too. But now…"
Rias didn't look away from the screen. Her voice was cool, but a flicker of concern edged it.
She paused the video at a moment where Issei's shoulders sagged and his steps faltered.
"…What kind of person fights like that while they're sick and then talks about it like it's nothing?"
Akeno's expression shifted—surprise fading into quiet scrutiny. She leaned closer to the screen to take a better look at the screen.
"I assumed it was just adrenaline… but now that you mention it…"
She paused, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly.
Rias nodded. "You can see it here—his breathing, the way he moves. It's not just adrenaline. He was forcing his body through it."
Akeno watched the footage again with new eyes. The tremble in his hand, the slight delay in his step, it all looked different now. "Yuuto may be right," she said after a pause. "There's something unusual about him."
"There is," Rias said quietly. "We will need to investigate more closely after the meeting with Principal tomorrow. Sona will be there too. We can't let this kind of violence keep happening, especially not under the radar."
"Yes," Akeno said, "Have you finished preparing for the meeting?"
"I have," Rias replied, though a sigh escaped her lips. "I just hope, for once, he's willing to listen and do something about Hiro Satoru."
*****************************
The next day, at Principal's Office
*****************************
The morning light filtered through the towering windows of Principal Shirogane's office, casting long golden lines across the polished floor. The air was cold despite the sun outside, still as glass. Bookshelves stood tall on either side, filled with tomes older than the school itself. Strange relics sat between plaques—an aged skull, a dagger that shimmered faintly under the sunlight, a paperweight with unreadable symbols etched deep.
Principal Shirogane sat at his desk, pen in hand, signing off documents in silence.
Sona Sitri and Rias Gremory sat before him.
"The two of you are here early," he said, his voice low and composed, never pausing in his work.
Sona clasped her hands atop the desk, posture firm. "Principal, this is regarding third-year student Hiro Satoru."
"What about him?" He didn't look up.
"He's been organizing a group to bully students for some time now. Right now he is specifically targeting class 2-C. This has gone on long enough."
"I see," he replied simply, flipping to the next page. "I'll keep that in mind."
Sona's brow twitched, exasperation creeping into her expression. She glanced toward Rias.
Rias cleared her throat softly, choosing her words with care.
"Please, Principal Shirogane. The student being targeted is someone I'm... involved with."
"Hyoudou Issei, correct?"
"Yes," she replied, "There was a confrontation between him and Hiro earlier. I believe Hiro is retaliating—not just against him, but the entire Class 2-C."
Shirogane paused. "Do you have any evidence Hiro is orchestrating this?"
Sona's tone rose, losing her usual composure. "Principal, surely someone like you can recognize what's happening—!"
"Sona Sitri."
His voice dropped a fraction, but the chill in the air intensified instantly. The girls stiffened as his eyes glowed faintly.
"You may be the rulers of Kuoh's supernatural hierarchy. But here—" his gaze narrowed, "you're students. Nothing more. Students with the authority of your respective positions."
Sona inhaled slowly, composing herself. "I apologize. But I cannot overlook this any longer. Not as Student Council President. All prior warnings have gone ignored."
They locked eyes for a long moment before Shirogane exhaled a quiet sigh and leaned back in his chair.
"...The students in this school are weak."
He set his pen aside, massaging the bridge of his nose.
Rias and Sona remained silent, waiting.
"Growth comes through trials. If these students never learn to stand, nothing will change."
"...Principal?" Rias asked, eyebrows furrowing.
The principal rose, walking to the floor-to-ceiling window. His eyes scanned the school grounds below, watching the students in their morning bustle.
"Herd mentality. Cowardice. These are poisons that fester in young minds. Kuoh Academy produces exceptional academic results… but it does so at the cost of character."
He turned halfway, speaking with his back still partially turned.
"Sona Sitri. What do you believe a school is meant to be?"
Sona answered without hesitation. "A place where every student receives an equal chance to learn and grow."
He nodded slightly, then turned to Rias.
"And you?"
Rias hesitated, then said with quiet certainty, "A place to find your path. To decide who you are… without someone else deciding for you."
Shirogane nodded. "A fair sentiment. I agree. But I also believe a school must act as a forge. Where a student's character is tested. Hardened."
Sona's expression tensed. "And how exactly are they supposed to grow character in such a hostile environment?"
"In life, no one waits for you to get ready before testing your resolve. The world will hit much harder than a boy like Hiro Satoru ever could."
His tone didn't rise, but his words landed like stone.
"Look beyond 2-C. Have the other classes raised concerns?"
Sona faltered. "...No."
"They are relieved. That it isn't them. That someone else took the bullet. That kind of thinking is the real threat. And it's the reason nothing changes."
Rias leaned forward, frustration tightening her voice "Even so, Hiro isn't just a bully. He's got influence—connections. The students are afraid. That not cowardice, it's survival."
"That's exactly the point. It's easy to stand up to someone weaker than you. But when fear enters the equation? That's when true character is revealed."
He turned back to them fully.
"Therefore, this—right now—is the best situation I could ask for."
Shirogane smiled faintly, walking back toward his desk.
The girls exchanged confused looks.
"Hyoudou Issei," he said, sitting back down. "A student capable of fighting multiple opponents at once. Because of him, Hiro Satoru escalated his tactics. The entire class became his target, not just an individual. If change is going to happen—it will happen now."
He met their eyes.
"So stay out of it."
A heavy silence fell.
"My students won't let me down."
*************
Time skip
*************
breathe in
breathe out
"Don't do anything. Just ignore them."
8:00 AM, Hyoudou Residence, Issei's room
It's been three days since I, Hyoudou Issei, got suspended for beating the up Hiro Satoru and his merry band of degenerates. Today, I go back.
I checked my phone. The chat last opened, showed messages from Motohama and Matsuda who said they were okay, and Hiro didn't come for them.
Of course not. He aimed higher. Rias told me Hiro's been targeting everyone in Class 2-C just because I threw hands.
I barely talk to my classmates outside the perverted duo—and now they're collateral. Typical coward move.
I threw on my uniform shirt. Sunlight slipped through the window and hit the scars across my chest.
Three days. That's how long I've been locked in this room, working myself half to death.
After what happened with Raynare, and my refusal to rely on Ophis' power for the time being, I went back to basics. Polishing my talents. No divine cheat codes. Just me. One of my most useful talent—my body. It sure isn't what it used to be.
I finished breakfast. Packed my bag. Tied my shoes.
Mind set. Intention clear.
No matter what happens today...
Do. Not. Get. Involved.
********
At school
********
"Bro, did you see the trailer for that new PS5 game?"
"I swear, karaoke last night was insane. You should've seen Aki."
"Hey, did you finish the math—?"
Chatter. Laughter. Morning noise.
But the second I stepped onto campus—
Silence.
It didn't hit all at once. First, voices dipped. Then came the sidelong glances. Then full stops. Like dominoes, conversations died as people noticed me walking in.
It was understandable as to why.
A few days ago, I beat up Hiro Satoru and his half of his gang.
Since then, Hiro had gone quiet. Not on everyone, though. He zeroed in on just one place—Class 2-C.
My class.
The rest of the student body? They weren't angry. They were relieved. They weren't targets anymore. Some even smiled more, laughed louder. For them, things were finally back to normal.
But now that I was back...
They weren't sure what was coming next.
I ignored the stares and walked to my classroom.
Class 2-C was a different world.
No chatter. No rustling bags. No half-assed complaints about homework.
Just tension, thick and quiet.
Some students had their heads down, others stared blankly at nothing. A few flinched when the door opened. Eyes turned toward me—not just with blame, but with something close to relief.
I didn't acknowledge any of them.
I took my seat without a word.
Outside, the school felt alive. In here, it felt like a hospital waiting room.
I kept my eyes on the window.
Hiro Satoru.
He went about as far as I expected. I only caught glimpses, but it was enough. Bandaged arms. Bruised cheeks. The kind of injuries you don't get from accidents. Rough hands left those marks.
"Yo… Issei."
Motohama and Matsuda strolled over as usual.
"Yeah."
I gave a short nod, my eyes scanning them. No visible bruises. No limps. Guess they weren't lying.
They asked if I'd had any trouble on the way. We kept it casual. Light talk.
Meanwhile, I could feel the others leaning in, listening to our conversation.
I didn't return a single gaze.
My resolve was set.
I'm not doing anything.
Not this time.
***********
First Break
***********
Issei had no intention of getting involved. He told himself that again as the bell rang. All he wanted was to wait out the day quietly.
But quiet didn't last.
The classroom door opened without warning.
Five third-years stepped in. All of them were wearing clean uniforms, carrying relaxed expressions that didn't match the way the room shifted around them. The mood dropped a few degrees as if someone had cut the air circulation.
They looked around for a moment before locking onto Issei in the corner. One of them smirked. Another elbowed his friend like they were sharing some private joke. But none of them approached him.
Instead, the one in front who was taller than the others, with neatly combed hair and a soft-spoken voice, walked a little farther into the room.
"Excuse me," he said. "Is Kagami Aizawa here?"
His polite tone made a few students sit up straighter.
A few seats down, heads turned toward the back of the classroom. Aizawa was sitting near the window, eyes down, lips pressed tight.
He didn't respond at first.
"Aizawa?" the senior repeated with a fake smile plastered onto his face.
Aizawa looked rough. A strip of gauze stretched across the bridge of his nose. His cheek was discolored, and there was a faint bruise under his left eye. His posture was slouched, like he hadn't been sleeping well.
"Ah, there you are," the senior said again. "Toru wants to see you. You don't mind coming with us, right?"
Aizawa slowly stood up. Without any words, he passed by Issei's desk, not glancing even once in his direction.
Then they left. The classroom door clicked shut.
Silence followed.
Some students looked at Issei, with silent hope.
Issei stared out the window. He didn't move.
.....
Aizawa didn't come back until the very end of break.
When he did, the class fell quiet again.
His uniform was stained. There was dirt across his shirt and grass stuck to the hem of his pants. His right shoe looked like it had been stepped on.
Even the teacher did a double take when she returned.
"Aizawa, what happened?"
"I tripped on the stairs," he said quietly.
He walked to his seat, without any dramatics.
He sat down. Folded his hands on the desk. .
There was no anger in his face. Just an empty calm that didn't belong to someone his age.
***********
Lunch Break
***********
When lunch rolled around, the mood in the classroom was still heavy. It hadn't recovered from what happened to Aizawa.
But things got worse.
A group of third-year girls entered without knocking. They were dressed sharp and walked like they owned the place. A few of the boys in class instinctively straightened up in their seats. But everyone else—especially the girls—tensed.
At the center of the group was Kisaragi Reina. A known face. Star swimmer, rumored beauty, and more importantly, someone directly connected to Hiro Satoru's circle.
She didn't need to say anything. Her presence said enough.
She smiled as she scanned the room. Not the warm kind. It was the sort of smile used to put people off guard.
"Good afternoon, everyone," Reina said, her voice smooth.
The other seniors chuckled lightly behind her. Just like the guys earlier, they weren't here for conversation.
One of them stepped forward and casually called out a few names.
"Yuka. Ayane. Saki. Come with us, yeah? Just for a bit."
There was no room for refusal in her tone. Just fake sweetness.
The named girls exchanged glances, then stood up quietly. No one tried to stop them. No one knew how.
Issei was watching from his seat.
One of the seniors—someone standing next to Reina—locked eyes with him. She whispered something, and they all laughed again.
They were enjoying it.
Issei felt a little flicker of irritation. His eyes narrowed just slightly as he saw Reina glance at him with that smug expression.
Issei stood up and grabbed his lunch bag. "Let's go," he said to Motohama and Matsuda, who were all looking uncomfortable.
The three of them slipped out of the classroom together, leaving behind the stifling tension.
...........
"…Issei, what are you gonna do?" Motohama asked while chewing on a piece of pork cutlet.
"Nothing," Issei replied flatly.
"Well…" Matsuda scratched his head, eyes flicking over to a group of seniors at another table. "I guess…"
"That bastard," Motohama muttered, pushing his glasses up his nose, "He couldn't deal with you one-on-one, so he decided to resort to this."
"…"
Issei kept eating, silently. Then, after a moment, he spoke again.
"Can you guys tell me more about Hiro Satoru?" Issei asked slowly.
Motohama and Matsuda exchanged looks.
"Oh yeah, I forgot," Matsuda said, letting out a laugh, "You don't pay much attention to others."
"I can give you the gist," Motohama said.
Except it wasn't just the gist. Motohama's "brief" explanation took the rest of lunch break, plus whatever spare minutes they could scrounge between classes. Issei just listened, occasionally nodding or asking a short question. But by the end of it, a rough picture had formed.
***
HIRO'S HISTORY (as explained by Motohama)
***
Hiro joined Kuoh Academy two years ago. From day one, he was popular—especially with the girls. His popularity back then could be compared to the present Kiba. He had a similar princely vibe. But the group he hung around with always gave off a different kind of energy. Troublemakers would be the appropriate term.
Back then, people overlooked it. Hiro was a rising star in boxing, after all. He won the National Youth Boxing Championship for under-18s, bringing prestige to Kuoh Academy who was typically known for their academic results. The school rewarded him, praised him. The staff liked him. So did the principal.
But after the third-years he was close to graduated, changes started to appear. Rumors popped up about students being shaken down for cash or favors. At first, nobody believed them. Hiro was too charming to do such things. But little by little, things became harder to ignore.
By the time Hiro reached his second year, the mask had completely slipped. Everyone knew what he was. And still, no one did anything.
Except for one person; Kagami Sora. Another popular guy from second year, had the charisma of a leader, was very athletic, and was a kind person whom everyone admired. More importantly, he was amazing at fighting. If anyone could win against Hiro Satoru at that time, it had to be him. He challenged Hiro in front of everyone. He lost, barely, but he was expelled from school soon after. Seeing that, people just gave up.
Hiro got smarter with time. He didn't go after everyone. He picked his targets—usually one person at a time. That way, most students could pretend it wasn't their problem. It was effective in keeping the complaints down.
"He uses camera-free zones," Motohama said. "Stairwells. Back of the gym. Outside the school, where there's no proof."
"He doesn't usually demand cash like in mangas," Matsuda added. "More like… favors. Lunch money, carrying bags, stuff that looks innocent if you squint. You can also 'buy' your way out of bullying."
"But now," Motohama continued, "He's targeting class 2-C only."
"It's part of his usual isolation strategy," Motohama said. "By leaving the other classes alone, he makes them feel safe. That way, if you go after him, they won't lift a finger. The only people who might help are from 2-C—but he's already crushed their morale. They're isolated, discouraged, and unlikely to fight back. And even if they try, the chances of winning are low and the risk of getting in trouble is high. In just three days, Hiro's narrowed down the threat to one class and made them too scared to act. Now, they'll probably blame you for everything."
"Smart," Issei muttered. He wasn't new to this kind of psychological warfare.
"He's wary about you, that's the thing," Matsuda said. "This is very similar to the situation from last year.
Issei didn't respond. He just stared at the floor, thinking.
After hearing everything, Issei stood up.
"I get it now. I'll handle it."
"Wait—where are you going?"
"You just got back from suspension," Matsuda said. "Do not do anything rash."
"I'm not going to fight," Issei said. "Relax."
He made his way to the Student Council office.
*********
Only two people were present there: Sona Shitori, the president, and Genshirou Saji, a second year, one of the members.
The room was tidy and quiet, with neat stacks of papers on every desk. The windows were open, letting in soft sunlight. It smelled faintly like old books and ink.
Issei stepped in.
"President," he said. "I'd like to report something."
Sona glanced up, pen still in hand.
"Hiro Satoru," Issei said. "And his gang. They've been harassing students. My class especially."
Sona didn't respond right away. She closed her eyes, as if thinking carefully.
"I see," she said eventually. "Thank you for bringing it to my attention. I'll look into it."
There was a pause. A slightly awkward one.
"...Alright. I'll take my leave then."
As Issei turned, his eyes caught Saji, sitting stiffly by the window. His hands were clenched tightly, and he hadn't said a word the entire time. His jaw was tight. There was something on his face—frustration, maybe. Or guilt.
Issei paused at the door.
Sona didn't meet his eyes. Not once.
Outside, as Issei walked down the quiet hallway, the weight in his heart felt heavier than before.
****
As Issei made his way home, as expected, Hiro Satoru's gang didn't bother him. But as he was leaving the school grounds, he did notice a few familiar faces—classmates—talking to third-years, eyes lowered, with scared expressions.
He looked away, once again.
******************************
Hyoudou Residence, Issei's room
******************************
Issei dropped his bag to the floor and slumped into his chair, staring at the blank monitor in front of him.
"…"
The silence clawed at him. He could ignore everything, pretend none of it mattered—but how long?
Right now, he needed a distraction. Games?
Right. Banned.
Still, he opened the guild's chat anyway.
The manticore boss video had exploded—over 60,000 views. Comments were praising Issei's performance, speculating on his build, some even debating if it was legit.
Amid the scrolling chatter in the group chat, one message caught his eye.
Kevin had emailed the game staff, linking the youtube video with Issei's account ID, vouching that he wasn't hacking.
SonicRider: You sure you should've sent that as proof, Kevin? That makes it more suspicious, not less.
RosemaryBuddha: Bro, it sure did look like Yuusha was aimbotting.
Issei twitched.
Yuusha(Issei's account): There's a word for what you saw there. It's called skill.
RosemaryBuddha: Sure, sure. Whatever you say man.
RpgHorse: Lmao imagine he gets perma-banned because of that proof.
KevinKennecky: Shut up, okay? I should do at least this much to help get his account back.
That line.
Issei stared at it longer than he expected to.
"Doing at least this much…"
He murmured the words out loud.
Kevin was always like this. He hadn't asked Kevin for anything. Kevin didn't owe him anything. But still—he acted. Just because he could. Just because he felt like he should. That sentiment bothered Issei.
Outside, the light had dimmed.
The sunset painted his room in quiet gold, the type of glow that made even shadows seem noble.
***************************
Kuoh Academy – After School
***************************
The sun had dipped low behind the treetops, casting long shadows across the garden behind the school building. Genshirou Saji crouched near a patch of herbs, turning the soil with slow, mechanical movements. He wasn't really paying attention to what he was doing.
"You look upset."
A calm and familiar voice came from behind. Saji didn't need to turn.
"Kiba," he muttered.
Yuuto Kiba walked over and stood beside him, eyes briefly scanning the garden. He didn't say anything.
Saji exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. "Izo's brother came to the council room today."
"Oh?" Kiba sounded interested.
"He told us about Hiro Satoru. He really thought we could help." A bitter chuckle slipped out. "I didn't know how to respond."
Kiba stayed quiet, letting him talk.
"I wonder what his face will look like," Saji continued. "When he finds out we can't do a damn thing."
Saji drove the small tiller into the dirt a little too hard.
"Have you seen what those guys are doing, Kiba? Hiro's little clique—they're making Class 2-C's life hell. Just because their egos got bruised once.
Kiba kept his silence as Saji vented.
"When my family was drowning in debt," Saji's voice dropped, "it was Sona-kaichou who pulled us out. Said I had potential. Gave me this second chance."
He pressed on.
"I couldn't do anything to help my family. But when I discovered I had this thing called Sacred Gear, I thought… maybe I could be more like her. Help people too, y'know? But now..."
He looked up at the fading sky.
"Now I'm just pulling weeds while some rich asshole is trampling on students' lives."
He clenched his fists in the dirt.
"And all I ever hear is endless politics. Politics, factions, permission. And other bullshit. We're devils, right? Why are we afraid of some human thug in our own territory?"
Saji's breath came out ragged.
Kiba sat down beside him slowly and spoke,
"... This territory is a devils' territory in name only."
Saji turned to him, confused, "…Come again?"
"You probably weren't briefed because you're still new, but our influence here is paper-thin. Technically, yes, Kuoh is a devil territory. But the truth is, we're just… guests.
Kiba went on.
"Devils owning land in the human world isn't rare. But after the civil war in our faction, our grip loosened. The human faction's been rising fast ever since. Sacred Gear bearers, magicians, ki-users… and even Intent users. The balance is shifting."
Saji frowned, slowly catching on. Kiba continued.
"Take, Shirogane Kazuro for example. He's an Archmage—and one of the loudest voices for human autonomy in the country. He is one of the prime forces residing in this territory."
"…So we're here to win back influence?"
Kiba nodded faintly.
"There's a reason we find exorcists and fallen angels active in this area. We need to reclaim our old influence. Officially, yes—it's a test. For Rias Buchou and Sona-kaichou."
Saji's brow tightened.
"…But Hiro Satoru? Why would someone like Shirogane back him?"
Kiba's eyes narrowed.
"He might not be the only one backing him. We've picked up traces suggesting Hiro Satoru may have ties to a noble werewolf house."
"Werewolves?" Saji blinked, "Aren't they a neutral faction to us?"
"Neutral doesn't mean uninvolved. The Hiro family can be considered one of Japan's most powerful political dynasties. So the support checks out."
"It's not right…"
Saji leaned forward, hands on his knees. Defeated.
"So we just sit back while students get stomped on?"
"…Shirogane told us not to interfere. He says he believes in his students. We were told to observe, nothing more. We have no choice."
"…Why? Why would a werewolf noble support someone like Hiro Satoru?"
Kiba shrugged lightly. "I have a theory."
"Hit me."
"You might find this is dumb, or just down right stupid but… I believe Hiro Satoru can use intent."
"?!!"
Saji jolted upright.
Even someone like him, who was new to the supernatural world, knew the weight of that word. Humans with Intent—especially those who also possessed Sacred Gears—were walking disasters. They had the reputation of being unstable, unpredictable, and impossible to control. Creatures, who did not listen to anyone except themselves.
"Wait—Intent? Are you serious? You mean he is like Izo…? Kiba are you sure? Even I have heard that it is super rare to find one."
"That is what my observation suggests," Kiba said in a confident voice, "Last year, Hiro got into a fight. One-on-one. A fight with another second-year. But in that moment… I think I felt it, back then."
"That… does that mean he has a sacred gear too?"
"Rias Buchou couldn't sense one. Has Sona Kaichou said anything?"
"Not that I am aware of…"
Saji fell into deep thought.
"… I feel so bad so bad for Izo's brother— Hold on! Didn't Hyoudou Issei beat up this guy a few days ago? If Hiro has intent, how did he lose to Issei?"
"That…" Kiba made a troubled expression, "That's the strange part. Either his intent hasn't fully awakened, or… I was wrong. It's possible he doesn't have it at all."
Saji didn't respond. Just stared down at the disturbed soil.
"Or there is another possibility, something that has been on my mind for a while now."
Kiba said with a smile.
"What if he too is special? …Hyoudou Issei."
**********************************
DAY #2 after Issei returned to school
***********************************
Just like yesterday, I, Hyoudou Issei, was on my way to school, my head buried in thoughts.
I was never someone whom you would classify as self-sacrificing. The deal with Rias Gremory was done because I was bored out of my mind. Because my daily school life was nothing but rinse and repeat.
That is why the concept of pouring out hours of efforts for someone but yourself felt out of place to me. If it were not for the fact that I have seen such people in real life, I would've written it off as a joke. .
Don't get me wrong—I'm not about to change my heart and start helping my classmates or something. Yeah, I could take down all of Hiro's gang alone. They're not fallen angels, so of course I can. But the fallout wouldn't be worth it. I'd definitely get expelled this time. I already used up every ounce of luck I had with the principal last time. And then there's my parents. Facing them again would be its own special brand of hell. Besides, I have an oath to uphold. Once is a mistake. Twice? No. Not happening.
As I turned a corner, I braced myself—no unnecessary drama today.
Bump.
"Hawaau!"
A sudden yelp. At the same time, something clattered to the ground.
I had bumped into a Sister, a nun, standing at the edge of the path.
She was sprawled out on the pavement, arms flung wide, face to the floor.
"…Are you okay?"
I offered my hand.
"Auu. Why do I keep falling today… Oh, I'm sorry. Thank you very much~."
She spoke in English. A foreigner? Judging by her voice, she was young.
I helped her to her feet.
FLUTTER.
A gust of wind swept through. Her veil flew off.
GRAB.
I caught it with my free hand. As I was feeling oddly proud of my reflexes, her blonde hair tumbled down, shimmering in the morning light.
… It wasn't often that someone's beauty left me breathless. Her straight, golden hair framed a face so innocent it almost felt out of place—especially with those bright, green eyes.
She was definitely a foreigner, just as I'd guessed. Probably around my age, too. I'd always imagined nuns as older women, so this was… surprisingly refreshing.
I noticed a travel bag at her side. She must be new in town.
I apologized and was about to walk away, but she stopped me.
"Excuse me! You must be a resident of this town. It's a pleasure to meet you..."
She bowed her head.
"I was appointed to the Church in this town... I have been in trouble since I got here...I can't speak Japanese very well...I got lost and nobody could understand what I was saying..."
Appointed to the Church here? A reassignment?
I think there were two or three churches in this town. I asked if she had any paperwork or an address. Her eyes lit up as I spoke English, and she handed me a small piece of paper.
...
Turns out, she'd been wandering around town since morning.
Lucky for her, I picked up English for gaming. I preferred dubbed games over subs, but I hated waiting for translations, and Kevin and the rest of my guild were from all over the world.
Still, speaking English out loud like this made me second-guess myself. Well, she understood me—that's what mattered.
"…This address…"
I squinted at the paper.
"Are you sure this is the right place?"
She nodded eagerly.
No mistake. It was the old, abandoned church. I didn't think anyone even used that place anymore.
Renovations? Who knows.
"Yeah, I know this place."
"You do?! Thank you! This is all thanks to God!"
She smiled through tears.
I tried giving her directions, but she either didn't get my English or just had no sense of direction. Probably both.
"Uh… I will 'drop you' at the location. It is on the way. Follow me."
She nodded gratefully, saying "thank you" over and over as I wondered if 'drop you' was the right choice of words there.
On our way to church, we passed by a small park.
"UUWAAAAAHHH!!"
Suddenly, a cry cut through the morning air.
A little boy was crying.
"Are you alright, Yoshi-kun?" his mother asked, kneeling beside him.
He'd just tripped, from the looks of it. Nothing serious. He'd be fine.
The young nun who was behind me, however hurried towards the boy.
"Hey," she said softly, crouching beside the boy.
She patted his head gently.
"Are you okay? Boys shouldn't cry over a minor injury like this."
The boy probably didn't understand what she is saying. But since she was wearing such kind expression, he calmed down. The Sister put her palm on his injured knee.
She really is a kind person—
SHINE
My eyes widened.
A green light orb formed in her hand and flashed onto the boy's knee.
The wound slowly faded. The skin smoothed over. Gone.
What…?
A healer?
A damn healer?! WHAT?!
A possible explanation immediately came to my mind. Sacred gear. That had to be it. Some kind of healing-type Sacred Gear.
Even the boy's mother looked stunned. Of course, anyone who sees such unimaginable things will have a similar reaction.
"There, all better," the Sister said, smiling as she patted the boy's head again. "The pain should be gone now."
Then she looked at me and laughed, sticking her tongue out, "I'm sorry. I had to."
The mother, still in shock, quickly stood and tugged her son's hand to leave.
"Thank you, Onee-chan!" the boy said, looking up at her.
"He said thank you, Sister," I translated, watching her expression shift into a bright smile.
She has caught my interest now. I spoke gently, my tone softer than before.
"Wow… what is that power?"
"Yes, it's the power to heal. It's a wonderful power that God gave me."
She said with a slightly sullen smile. Perhaps she was worried that I might tell others what I saw. But if she really wanted to stay hidden, why reveal it so openly? I thought supernatural stuff was supposed to be kept hidden from normal people.
Still, a healing Sacred Gear… I'd never considered that. My mind always went to flashy powers and destructive force. DPS brain rot. But a support-type power?
Holy hell, that was actually cool.
I felt an odd kinship in that moment. She was different. Quietly powerful.
As we continued toward the church, a thought crossed my mind—could I pass off my teleportation, the one Ophis gave me, as a Sacred Gear too and establish a team with her? That sounds cool.
Eventually, we reached the path that leads to the old church, located on the lower edge of a hill.
"Yes, this is the place!" she said, eyes sparkling as she compared it to her map. "I'm so glad."
She sighed in relief.
"Hey, Sister," I called out. "Won't you get in trouble for showing your powers in public?"
She blinked, surprised, then gave a sheepish smile like it couldn't be helped.
"Yes, I know I shouldn't… but I can't ignore someone in pain when I have the power to help. I believe God gave me this ability for a reason."
"…"
I regretted asking. The situation of my classmates. I was reminded about that once again.
'You have power. So why aren't you doing anything?'
The unspoken accusation rang in my head, like someone whispering straight into my conscience.
... Another one, huh?
This nun… she's exactly the kind of person I tend to avoid. The 'self-sacrificing' type.
"Thank you so much for helping me!"
She bowed deeply, full of gratitude.
I returned a quick one.
"Then... I'll be on my way."
"Please wait!" she called.
"I'd like to make you some tea—to thank you for guiding me here—"
"Oh. I'm in a bit of a rush. School's about to start."
"...But that's..."
She sounded troubled. I must have sounded colder than I meant to.
She probably wants to make me some tea to show her gratitude, but school is about to start, and besides… spending time with 'self-sacrificing' type isn't going to do any good. Maybe I will approach her if I need help—or get myself nearly killed.
"My name is Hyoudou Issei. And yeah, school's starting soon. It's okay. We'll meet again."
She smiled and bowed deeply.
"My name is Asia Argento! Please call me Asia!"
"Then, Sister Asia... I'll see you again."
"Yes! Issei-san, I will definitely come and see you!"
She bowed once more.
Flinch
Being called by my first name by a girl still felt... strange.
I waved and turned away. She watched until I disappeared down the road.
She really did seem like a good person.
But those kinds of people...
I sighed.
They die first.
**********
**********
"Ah! I forgot to ask where he lived!"
Asia stopped in her tracks, lightly slapping her forehead.
Then, she smiled softly to herself.
It's okay… I'm sure we'll meet again.
With that hopeful thought, she resumed her walk to the abandoned church—her new home.
The church loomed like a forgotten relic, its wooden doors worn by time and weather. She hesitated for a moment, then knocked. The echo of her knock danced in the quiet air until—
Creaaak.
The door opened, revealing a tall woman with flowing blue-silver hair that covered her right eye.
Kalawarner smiled at Asia.
"You must be Asia Argento. We've been expecting you. Come inside."
Asia bowed politely.
She stepped in and was immediately struck by the condition of the old church. The church interior was dimly lit, dust curling in the stale air. Holy symbols remained on the walls, but many were covered with scribbled papers, scattered documents, and makeshift rituals drawn in chalk across the floor.
In the middle of it all stood a man—silent, motionless.
He stared blankly at the stone wall behind his desk.
"Sir," Kalawarner said. "Our new recruit has arrived."
No response.
Asia's nervous glance flicked between Kalawarner and the unmoving man.
"That's Dohnaseek," Kalawarner said, sighing softly. "He's… dealing with some things. Currently in his stead, I'm the acting commander here. Don't worry. I'll handle your placement. For now, you'll be under Father Freed's supervision."
"Ye-yes… I understand."
Asia bowed again and followed her out, hesitating at the doorway. She looked back, one last time, at the man who hadn't moved a muscle.
Click.
The door closed, leaving Dohnaseek alone in silence once more.
*******************
Earlier that morning
*******************
"…Dohnaseek, have you lost your mind?"
Azazel's voice was unusually sharp, echoing through the long-distance communication magic circle.
"You want troops? For revenge? Based on what—gut feeling?"
Dohnaseek stood stiffly, clenching his fists behind his back, "It is Raynare, sir. We both know how strong she was. She-she… Someone from the devil faction has to be behind this. Considering how quickly her trace disappeared… It has to be dome by someone strong. And Sekiryuutei was near—!"
"Dohnaseek."
Dohnaseek fliched upon hearing Azazel's cold voice.
"Have you retrieved any traces confirming Raynare's death?" Azazel asked.
"Sir! She hasn't returned in days-!"
"And she also happens to be someone who faced disciplinary actions in the past for disobeying her superior," Azazel said, "Are you sure this isn't one of those cases again where she ran away?"
"Sir no! Raynare would never-"
"Dohnaseek, think rationally," Azazel interrupted him again.
"The area you are operating is Kuoh town. The region crawling with unknowns. If Raynare is dead, we can't just assume who did it. Could be any faction. Or none. You think the Sekiryuutei is involved? Based on what? "
Azazel exhaled.
"You were sent there to monitor. Not to instigate. I'll order an investigation. But do not act rashly. Do you understand? If you feel like you cannot continue; return Dohnaseek."
"…"
Dohnaseek's eyes dropped to the dozens of crumpled notes strewn across his desk—his desperate attempts to build a case, to prove he wasn't crazy. Each page had failed him.
"Dohnaseek? Do you hear me?"
"…Yes, sir."
The magic circle vanished. The silence returned.
Then—
Rip.
He tore the nearest paper in half, then another, and another—ripping through them like a madman.
...
..
.
"… Raynare…"
*******
Memory
*******
That night came rushing back, the very night before her disappeared.
Raynare had leaned against him, draping her arms around his shoulders, sporting her usual mischievous smile.
"I heard our new recruit has a sacred gear," she whispered, her fingers trailing down his chest.
"…Yes?"
She grinned.
"I have always wondered… Think I'd be able to beat the Red Dragon Emperor if I had one?"
His heart thudded uneasily. "…What are you getting at?"
Whenever he saw that smile, he knew she was up to no good.
Raynare's smile grew sharper. "What if… we took the sacred gear from her?"
"Absolutely not," he snapped. "That ritual is forbidden. If the human faction finds out—"
She rolled her eyes and pulled away with a scoff.
"Don't you think I deserve a sacred gear more than some little girl?"
"Raynare, no means no," he said firmly. "This isn't ambition. It's suicide."
She stopped at the door, glanced back.
"You do know… unless I climb ranks, we'll never be allowed to be together. Not officially."
Dohnaseek's face tightened.
"Raynare—"
"If we are this afraid to do anything… then how are we supposed to be together?"
And then she left.
*******
Present
*******
Dohnaseek stood, staring at the same door she once walked out.
Her words haunted him.
"Afraid to do anything…"
He clenched his jaw, pressing a trembling hand to his face.
The new recruit has arrived…
Kalwarner's words echoed in his head like a slow bell toll.
His hand dropped.
His eyes, once glazed with grief, sharpened with purpose. He turned slowly, staring at the door through which the sacred gear wielder had vanished.
If I cannot even do this…
**********
At school
**********
As I, Hyoudou Issei, barely slipped into class on time, I reminded myself of the oath I'd made.
Sooner or later, Hiro Satoru would give up. He had to.
Eventually, he'd realize I didn't care what happened.
Or at least… that's what I kept telling myself.
The somber mood from yesterday still clung to the classroom like a fog. But today, it felt thicker.
Everyone stared at me as I walked in.
A quiet, creeping unease bloomed in my chest. I wished they'd just get the message already. I wasn't going to do anything. They should stop looking at me like I would.
Whispers buzzed at the edges of the silence.
I sat down and immediately felt what was wrong.
I scanned the room.
No sign of the perverted duo. Motohama. Matsuda.
Their desks were empty.
Did they take a leave togeth—
The uneasy feeling in my heart suddenly exploded. My fingers twitched. I grabbed my phone.
No messages.
I didn't check in on them yesterday.
"Hyoudou, you didn't hear about it?"
I turned to see Aika Kiryuu approaching—glasses gleaming, her expression unreadable.
She was the 'female pervert' of Kuoh Academy, one of the few girls who talked to the perverted duo.
Seeing the confusion on my face, she continued flatly.
"Both of them were hospitalized last night. Some 'thugs' jumped them. They were beaten up badly."
"Thugs…?"
"You know who," she said.
Hiro's gang…
"…"
"Just wanted to let you know."
She turned to walk back to her seat, but something caught my eye.
Just beneath her collar—faint red streaks. Fingernail marks.
It felt like something warm was leaking from my head, spilling across the classroom.
I could feel… everything.
The stares. The thoughts. The questions hidden behind silence.
'Are you going still not going to do anything?'
I pressed my lips together and basked in that feeling.
...........
*********
Classes began, but Hyoudou Issei wasn't really there.
Something was draining out of him—thoughts, focus, presence. It was like his mind was bleeding into the classroom. He sat still, eyes fixed but vacant. Though no one noticed, his irises pulsed faintly with an unnatural blue light.
He heard the whispers of the students and actively tried to listen to them.
Around him, the classroom buzzed with whispers.
"…The senior from yesterday, Kisaragi Reina—did you hear what she did yesterday?"
His ears twitched at the name. He remembered it from the day before. The girl who had walked into their classroom. His gaze sharpened as he locked onto the source of the whispering—two girls seated a few rows ahead, voices low, heads close. The teacher's voice boomed in the background, oblivious.
"She pushed our heads into the pool and made us hold our breath," one of them said, her voice trembling.
"What? In school?!" the other whispered back, clearly shaken.
"They took us to karaoke after classes…"
The girl's words caught. A shiver passed through her frame.
"They singled out Aika Kiryuu.. Ragged her while making the rest of us sing loud enough to cover her voice."
The other girl gasped. She must've been absent yesterday.
"Then they made us smoke. Forced us to carry cigarette packs in our bags..."
I glanced at Kiryuu. She seemed unusually tense and still.
More whispers behind me.
"Hey, did you see what happened to the perverted duo?"
"What? You weren't there?"
"No, they took our batch to playground. To 'play' wrestling with us."
"My group was taken to an old warehouse. We had to dance for them. I think they planned worse, but then Matsuda snapped. Said he wasn't doing this bullshit anymore. After that… Let's just say they went beyond what they did to Aizawa on the first day."
Issei could hear the other student grimacing. His eyes landed on Aizawa who seemed calm. Focused on the lesson. But the bandages across his nose, his temple, elbow... they painted a different picture.
Piece by piece, information pieced together in Issei's mind.
Some names kept popping up. Kisaragi Reina, Toru, Endou, Kenji… The same seniors. Again and again.
Coordinated bullying, segmented by batches.
The bell rang for short break.
"…"
Right on cue, the predators arrived. Seniors—tall, grinning, relaxed—entered the room.
"Are Motohama and Matsuda here?" the same senior from yesterday asked, in his polite tone.
The atmosphere froze.
Eyes turned in Issei's direction.
He could feel it.
They were watching me. Testing me.
"Th-they're absent today, senpai..."
The guy cleaning the board answered, his voice shaking.
"The-they are absent today, senpai..."
The guy who was cleaning the blackboard said.
"Oh no, that's unfortunate," said the senior up front, faking concern.
Then, like a switch flipped, the others behind him burst into laughter.
"Well then… you'll have to do."
He stepped forward toward the guy with the board cleaner.
"Eh—I-I…"
The boy looked around. His eyes landed on Issei. Pleading.
…
..
.
Issei stood.
The laughter ceased.
Smirks replaced smiles, as if daring him to do anything.
Issei walked toward them.
The classroom held its breath.
Even students passing by outside paused. Everyone wanted to see what he would do.
Step… Step… Step…
And then—
Shift.
Issei walked past them. Right out the door. Without a word.
The students watched, stunned. Some blinked. Others simply stared in silence.
And then—laughter. Louder this time.
It was their victory.
As Hiro Satoru had predicted, Hyoudou Issei didn't do anything. Hiro's gang purposefully left Motohama and Matsuda alone until the day Issei returned. They waited until Issei learned of the situation and then striked the only students he was close to, Motohama and Matsuda. To drive the feeling of helplessness into him.
If he threw hands, they were ready. They moved in groups now. Even their visits were tactical. They were prepared for the possibility that he might lash out. They wanted it. It would be a golden opportunity to get him expelled if inside school. If outside the school, they will just surround him and pummel him properly this time.
But if Hyoudou Issei didn't do anything, it would look like, he was someone who didn't do anything even if his friends got hurt, crushing the hopes of Class 2-C.
As he predicted, the stares burned into Issei's back.
Some full of disbelief.
Some full of disappointment.
Katase and Murayama—captains of the Kendo Club, members of the Occult Research Club—looked at him with barely-contained fury.
Issei kept walking.
************************
Lunch Break, the ORC room
************************
"He didn't do anything!" Katase said indignantly.
It was lunch break in the Occult Research Club room. Katase and Murayama stood near the center. Across from them sat Rias, with Akeno, Kiba, and Koneko nearby, all silent.
"What the principal wants isn't going to happen," Murayama added, arms folded. "Not with this kind of environment."
Rias sighed, fingers resting against her forehead. For the students who had accepted Hiro Satoru's tyranny all this time, to suddenly rise against Hiro Satoru was too much to ask much. Fear doesn't disappear overnight.
"What do you think, Buchou?" Akeno asked.
Rias looked at Katase and Murayama.
"…How was he?"
"Please, Rias-sama," Katase said, visibly irritated. "Don't waste your energy on someone like him."
"Katase." Rias' voice was firm.
Katase backed down immediately.
Both she and Murayama had always admired Rias—followed her, even before becoming devils. They found the whole Rias Gremory and Hyoudou Issei fake relationship situation just unimaginably absurd. Ignoring the fact that he had such a depressing air around him, Hyoudou Issei was someone who was on friendly terms with the perverted duo, whom they hated. It was just too much for them to digest.
"… He seemed out of it after hearing the news."
Rias closed her eyes and sighed.
"… This has gone too far."
"Yes, and it's his fault." Murayama said. "He couldn't control himself and attacked them. What did he expect?"
"Then am I not more to blame," Rias said quietly, "for putting him in that position?"
Murayama froze, caught off guard. "No, that's not what I—"
"We'll wait and see," Rias said, her voice final. "Let's just hope the principal's madness has some method to it."
The room fell into silence.
**********************
After school, Issei's room
**********************
I, Hyoudou Issei, sat in my chair, unmoving.
Outside my window, the world felt far too quiet.
Even today, I saw students dragged away by the seniors after classes. And in class, they showered me with resentful looks. Like I'd betrayed them.
Because I hadn't done anything. Not even after what happened to Motohama and Matsuda.
At least the message seemed to have been communicated clearly.
'I will not do anything.'
I leaned back into my chair, closing my eyes.
I leaned back in my chair, eyes closed. I could still see their faces—those smug seniors grinning like they'd won. And the rest of the class, glaring at me because I hadn't fought back. Because I didn't turn into the savior they expected me to.
My breath came shallow.
I reached for my phone and opened my contacts, scrolling to the 'M' section.
Motohama.
Matsuda.
I stared.
What was I supposed to say? Apologize for starting this situation?
"Ha."
I tossed the phone onto my desk.
Like an apology was going to fix any of this.
Even if I wanted to fix it, I was flying blind here. I didn't know who Hiro's guys were, how they operated, what strings they pulled. Motohama had gone over Hiro's background, but left out the structure of the gang.
I exhaled through my teeth, bitterly.
I never should've made that bet. Never should've asked her out—
Freeze.
I blinked.
…. 'The current recommended way to ask her out is online, like Matsuda said. If you pay the right money to the right people in this school, you can get her Line ID. I believe everyone got my ID to threaten me the same way.' …
I remembered the conversation that followed when Motohama revealed punishment for losing bet. Matsuda did mention this mysterious entity who sold info for money. They offer info on any student, teacher or staff, if you give them the right money.
I picked up my phone and opened the LINE app.
At the bottom of my contacts list—
There it was. A user saved as: Informant.
I never contacted this person because I was afraid he might charge me too much and just asked out Rias Gremory in person.
I tapped the name and typed:
'Hello.'
The reply came fast.
'Yes?'
*TYPE*
'I want info on Hiro Satoru's gang.'
Send.
Silence. Reply came back a minute later.
'Why?'
Why? Fair question...
I stared at the screen. What was I doing? What did I plan to do with that information?
In the past, I made a promise to myself:
No more using my talents unless it was absolutely necessary. I cannot continue on that destructive path anymore.
What about this moment? Could it be considered 'absolutely necessary'?
I think the answer would be, no.
But inaction—long-term silence—was just another form of surrender. Eventually, silence will look like weakness.
I broke my oath once to start this mess…
Then maybe I could break it once more to clean it up.
I took a slow breath.
Typed:
'I'm going to do something about Hiro's gang. Want to help me?'
Then waited.
Seconds ticked by. No reply. I stared at the screen, half-expecting the message to go undelivered. Maybe I got ghosted—
*Ding*
'I'm in.'