The clock on the wall ticked quietly — the kind of ticking that mocked Akuma's sanity more than measured time.
His office was unusually clean today, papers stacked neatly, sunlight spilling through the half-open blinds. Everything was peaceful. Everything was perfect.
Except for the two men sitting across his desk.
Adalbert leaned back comfortably, a soft, amused smile on his face, while Mischa was hunched forward, elbows on his knees, phone in hand, scrolling lazily through something.
"…Run that by me again."
Akuma's tone was flat. The kind of flat that promised someone was about to get thrown out a window.
Adalbert chuckled lightly, as if the situation was nothing to worry about. "Ah, mein freund, there is no need for such drama."
"Da," Mischa added casually, not looking up from his screen. "Special Week is missing. Has not been appearing in power training since earlier."
"She missed guts training as well, Headmaster," Adalbert added, his German accent lilting the words like this was some kind of cheerful announcement instead of a missing person report.
For a moment, there was silence.
Then Akuma groaned, clutching his head as his voice echoed through the office.
"Where is that damn Uma now!?"
His shout sent a small flock of pigeons scattering from the window sill outside.
The city.
Bright. Busy. Bustling.
And right in the middle of it — Special Week.
She was humming happily to herself, tail swishing behind her, a piping hot taiyaki in her hand as she strolled through the streets. The smell of sweet bean paste wafted up with every bite. Her cheeks were puffed slightly as she munched, eyes sparkling as she waved to fans who recognized her.
"Oh! Hello! Thank you for cheering for me!" she said brightly, waving to a group of kids who were holding up a small paper sign with her name on it.
Every few minutes she'd stop to help someone — carrying groceries for an old lady, handing back a balloon to a crying child, or helping a small dog cross the street.
Each good deed was punctuated with another bite of something new — a dango stick, a melon bread, a bottle of ramune. She'd practically eaten her way through half the city by the time the sun began to dip below the skyline.
Eventually, she found herself in a quiet park. The chaos of the city was muffled by the trees, and the last of the sunlight painted the world in gold.
Special Week sat down on a bench, her bag full of snack wrappers beside her, and let out a soft sigh.
"Ahhh… what a good day," she murmured to herself, smiling up at the sunset.
But as the colors deepened and the air grew cooler, her smile began to fade.
"…oh."
Her ears drooped. Her tail stilled.
"…where… am I?"
The realization hit her like a cold wave.
She'd walked so far without thinking, hopping from street to street, food stall to food stall — and now she had no idea where she was.
She stood up, glancing around nervously. The park was pretty, but unfamiliar. The city skyline looked different from this angle. Her phone's battery was dead (she had used it to take pictures of food, naturally).
"…oh no."
Her chest tightened. "Akuma-sensei's going to be so mad…"
She plopped back onto the bench, burying her face in her hands. The thought of Akuma's exasperated sigh and that tired glare of his made her stomach twist.
"He's gonna yell again," she mumbled, voice muffled by her hands.
And then, quietly —
"…what if he stops training me?"
The thought slipped out before she could stop it.
She'd been falling behind lately. Training was getting harder. McQueen was faster than ever, Tachyon's experiments somehow made her better each week, and Oguri Cap was due to join their group soon — the rising star everyone was talking about.
Where did that leave her?
She poked at her stomach with both fingers, pouting as she pinched her belly. "Maybe I am getting fat," she said glumly.
She tried to laugh it off, but it came out half-hearted. Her ears drooped further.
"…maybe he only took me in because he needed to that day," she whispered, tail curling around her leg.
The sky was painted orange and pink, and the first stars were starting to peek through. The world looked beautiful — but lonely.
She didn't notice the distant rumble of an engine at first. But it grew louder, cutting through the quiet hum of the city.
Then —
Vrrrrrrrrooom!
A sleek black motorcycle slid to a stop right in front of her, the headlight flashing bright enough to make her flinch. The rider shut off the engine and pulled off his helmet — revealing a very annoyed-looking Akuma.
"…you have got to be kidding me," he muttered under his breath.
Special Week blinked, frozen in place. "…A-Akuma-sensei?"
He swung a leg off the bike, exhaling sharply. "You are impossibly hard to track, you know that? I had to drive around half the damn city."
Her mouth fell open. "Y-you were looking for me?"
"Obviously," he said flatly. "Since this morning. I asked people all over — but everyone kept giving me the wrong directions because apparently, you stopped every five minutes to do something weird or buy snacks."
He gestured with one hand, still holding his helmet in the other. "I swear, I was starting to think you ran away or something."
Special Week just stared at him — eyes wide, disbelief melting into something warm.
He looked for her. All day.
"…sorry," she mumbled, tail drooping.
"Yeah, well. Just tell someone next time," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. Then, with a reluctant softness in his tone, "Come on. You've had enough adventure for one day."
He held out the helmet toward her.
For a moment, she just stared at it, blinking. Then she looked up at him — at the faint bags under his eyes, the messy hair from riding too long, the slight scowl that didn't quite reach his eyes.
And her heart did a little flip.
"…you really came for me," she said, her voice small.
Akuma arched a brow. "Of course I did. You're my uma."
That was all it took. Her smile returned, bright and teary all at once, as she took the helmet with both hands.
He turned his head slightly, gesturing to the back seat. "Well? Get on."
Her grin widened, tail wagging as she climbed on, adjusting the helmet before wrapping her arms snugly around his waist.
"…you ready?" he asked, glancing back.
"Mm-hm!"
The engine roared back to life, the vibration running through both of them as he steered onto the road. The wind whipped through her hair, the city lights blurring into streaks of gold and white.
Special Week's laughter rang in the air — carefree, like a melody carried by the wind.
"…aren't you holding on a bit too tight?" Akuma called over his shoulder.
"Not tight enough!" she shouted back with a grin. Then, after a pause, "Also… can we get something to eat?"
Akuma groaned, but even through the sound of the engine, she could hear the small, resigned chuckle that followed.
"…fine."
Her tail wagged even faster. "Yay!"
The city lights reflected off the bike as it roared into the distance — the sound fading beneath the night sky, replaced only by laughter and the faint scent of sugar from Special Week's bag of half-eaten snacks.
That night, the Ishigawa dorms were quiet when they returned.
Special Week yawned, waving a sleepy goodnight before heading upstairs. Akuma watched her go, helmet still under his arm. For a fleeting second, he let himself smile — small, but real.
"She'll be fine," he murmured to himself.
Then, shaking his head, he turned to his desk and sighed again. "Now if only I could make the rest of them listen half as much…"
The sound of a faint crash in the distance — followed by Teio's laugh and McQueen's indignant shout — answered him immediately.
"…never mind."
He grabbed his hat, muttered a tired curse, and went to restore order once again.