Silas leaned back in the plastic chair, stretching his legs out under the small table and popping open the karaage bento.
The fried chicken pieces steamed faintly in the cool night air, the scent mixing with the faint ozone smell that always hung around convenience stores after dark.
Sona sat across from him, legs crossed neatly despite the casual setting, milk carton already open.
She took a small sip, then set it down and broke off a piece of her banana with precise fingers.
For a few moments they just ate in companionable quiet—the only sounds the occasional car passing on the main road, the hum of the 7-Eleven sign overhead, and the soft crinkle of plastic wrappers.
Silas broke the silence first, voice low and easy, the kind of tone that didn't demand attention but still pulled it in anyway.
"So… normal apartment life with the peerage. How's that working out?"
Sona's lips curved—just a tiny, reluctant smile, the kind she rarely let show in public.
"It's nice," she admitted, twirling the straw in her milk carton absently. "I would be lying if I said I don't miss back home sometimes—the gardens, the quiet halls, servants who know exactly how you take your tea without asking. But being in my own space… it's calming. No expectations from the Sitri name hanging over every conversation. Just me, my books, and the occasional chaos when Tsubasa decides the hallway is a dojo again."
Silas chuckled, popping the last piece of karaage into his mouth.
"So you have your own apartment? You don't share it with everyone else?"
"We do share it. It's one big unit—penthouse level, technically. Plenty of rooms, soundproofed walls, separate entrances if we want privacy. Everyone has their own space: Tsubaki's study is basically a small library, Reya's room looks like a bookstore exploded, Tsubasa has mats and weights in hers. It's functional. And it keeps us close without suffocating anyone."
"Wow," Silas said, leaning back with a grin. "That must cost… not that it matters to you now that I remember."
She laughed—soft, genuine, the sound almost surprising in its lightness.
"You aren't wrong there. Money stopped being a concern centuries ago. But I still pay rent like a normal person. Keeps the cover intact."
Silas shook his head, amused, and stood up.
"Hold that thought. What I ate didn't hit the spot. Be right back."
He disappeared inside the 7-Eleven again, returning a few minutes later with a fresh tray: two more onigiri (tuna mayo this time), a hot steamed bun filled with red bean paste, and a tall can of chilled royal milk tea.
Sona raised an eyebrow as he slid back into his seat and pushed half the food toward her.
"You're feeding me now?"
"Sharing," he corrected. "You look like you could use another snack. And I hate eating alone."
She didn't argue—just took the steamed bun, broke off a piece, and nibbled it thoughtfully.
They kept talking. Not a second of awkward silence slipped in. The conversation flowed like they'd done this a hundred times before—easy, teasing, honest in the way only late-night talks can be.
Eventually Sona steered it back to the night's earlier events.
"So… you and Rias's peerage went stray hunting?"
"Yeah," Silas replied, cracking open the milk tea. "Might join them again next time. It was… interesting."
"How were they?" she asked, genuine curiosity in her voice. "Did they impress you in any way?"
He nodded slowly.
"Yeah. The way they work together impressed me the most. Kiba sets up the angles, Koneko hits like a truck, Akeno controls the field, Rias finishes clean. When it comes to power though. They're okay"
Sona tilted her head.
"What do you mean 'they're okay' power-wise? That makes me wonder how strong you really are." She paused, eyes narrowing slightly. "Do you think you could beat Rias?"
Silas met her gaze without flinching, voice calm and matter-of-fact.
"I don't think. I know."
Sona studied him for a long moment—searching, calculating, the way she did when sizing up an opponent across a chessboard.
"I would like to test that," she said finally. "Not now. Some other time. A proper spar. No holding back."
Silas's lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile.
"Deal. But fair warning: I don't play nice when someone asks me not to hold back."
She didn't look intimidated. If anything, her eyes sparked with quiet excitement.
"Good. Neither do I."
They sat with that promise hanging between them—comfortable, charged, but not tense. The night air brushed past again, cooler now, carrying the faint scent of impending rain.
Silas finished his onigiri and leaned back, arms draped over the chair. She took the last sip of her milk, set the empty carton down, and glanced at the sky.
"I should head back soon. Early council meeting tomorrow."
Silas stood first, brushing his hands together once before bending to gather the empty wrappers and bottles they'd left on the bench. He moved casually, but there was something deliberate in it—like he'd already decided how the night would end.
"I'll walk you. No arguments. It's late, and I'm not letting the Student Council President get jumped by delinquents on her way home in pajamas."
Sona rolled her eyes, smoothing down her skirt as she stood. A faint breeze tugged at her hair, silver strands catching the glow of the streetlamp.
"You know I can beat them, right? I don't think there's a single human who can come close to me," she said, adjusting her glasses with a small push of her finger.
"True," Silas replied easily, slinging the trash bag over his shoulder before tossing it neatly into a nearby bin. "But that wouldn't be very gentleman-like of me to let you walk alone." He shot her a grin—crooked, effortless, annoyingly charming.
She stared at him for half a second longer than necessary.
Then she laughed.
Not the restrained, composed laugh she used in meetings. A real one.
It burst out of her unexpectedly, shoulders shaking slightly as she covered her mouth. The sound echoed softly down the empty sidewalk. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes from laughing so suddenly.
Silas blinked, confused at first—then found himself smiling just from watching her.
"...I don't know why, but that made me laugh," she admitted, trying to compose herself but failing as another giggle escaped.
"What can I say? I'm a funny guy. Even unintentionally," he replied, placing a hand over his chest in mock pride.
"That, I agree with," she said, still smiling as she wiped lightly under her eye.
The walk that followed felt different.
They moved side by side down the quiet street—plastic bags rustling softly, their footsteps unconsciously syncing. The hum of distant traffic blended with the low buzz of streetlights overhead. The night air was cool but comfortable, carrying the faint scent of rain from somewhere far off.
Neither of them rushed.
The city lights stretched long shadows behind them, their silhouettes almost touching on the pavement. Every so often their shoulders brushed lightly—just barely—and neither commented on it.
Soon the buildings grew taller. Cleaner. More expensive. And then they stopped. Silas looked up.
The apartment complex in front of them wasn't just "nice." It was elite. Sleek glass panels. A gated entrance with security. Marble trimming along the outer walls. The kind of place where even the air felt expensive.
Luxury cars lined the parking area—foreign brands, polished to perfection, engines that probably purred instead of roared.
'Damn. They balling here,' he thought, trying not to let it show too much on his face.
"Well… this is me. I'll see you tomorrow, Silas," she said, turning toward him. Her tone was calm, but there was something softer underneath it now.
"Yeah," he replied, slipping his hands into his pockets. "I should come visit you sometime. Maybe get to know your peerage for once."
He said it casually—but his eyes held a teasing glint. She froze. Then she blushed.
It started faint at her ears… then crept across her cheeks.
Thinking about it for a second, she nodded. "Yes… you should."
Before she could overthink it, Silas stepped forward. Solid arms around her shoulders, pulling her gently against him.
Her mind blanked. Her entire body stiffened for half a heartbeat before heat flooded her face. Red. Completely red. She could hear his heartbeat. Or maybe it was hers. It felt loud either way.
"See you tomorrow then," he said lightly before releasing her.
And without another word, he stepped back—Then took off.
A small shockwave cracked softly against the pavement as he launched upward, wind whipping through her hair and clothes. The sudden gust made her stumble a half-step, one hand instinctively reaching to steady herself.
She looked up. He was already rising, silhouette cutting across the moonlit sky. Her face was still burning. She slowly exhaled, bringing her fingers to her cheek as if confirming the heat was real.
Then—She felt it.
Her body stiffened. Slowly—very slowly—she looked up toward her apartment floor.
On the balcony.
Her entire peerage stood there.
Every single one, they eaning over the railing watching. Some wide-eyed. Some smirking. One already whispering to another. Another clearly holding back laughter.
Her soul nearly left her body.
'They're the last people I wanted to see that!' she screamed internally, her blush somehow deepening to an impossible shade.
One of them even gave her a small wave.
She spun on her heel immediately and marched toward the entrance with as much dignity as she could salvage—though her steps were just slightly too fast to look calm. The automatic doors slid open. She disappeared inside.
TO BE CONTINUED