The sun had already risen, painting the sky in the warm golden hue typical of autumn. The air felt calmer and cooler than in summer.
The trees had begun changing the color of their leaves, giving the scenery a peaceful, soothing atmosphere—perfect for those who disliked both the scorching sun and the biting cold.
People were leaving their homes for work and school, and of course, that rule applied to everyone—human or not.
"I really don't want to go to school…"
"Are we going to have this conversation every school day?" Shizuka already knew Desmon's routine.
Even so, Desmon was dressed in Sobu High's uniform: a white shirt and black pants. Normally, he wore his trusty coat, but it had been torn to shreds the previous week.
"I feel like I lose my freedom if I don't say it," Desmon said cheerfully as he munched on toast.
"You're the freest person around… honestly, you have no limits, so spare me that talk," she pointed at him with her chopsticks.
Shizuka had a point. Desmon could do whatever he wanted, but he chose to act according to what he believed was best. In simpler terms, it was the human side of him—the one shaped by his mother's and his teacher's lessons.
"Mmmm… mmmm…"
"Don't talk with your mouth full!"
Desmon was saying something he considered essential to justify his idea of freedom, but there wasn't much to do about his attitude.
"Putting aside the fact that you'd be dangerous in my position, I'm surprised you made something other than instant ramen."
Desmon had gotten used to having ramen for breakfast—with various add-ons. Shizuka, meanwhile, was both creative and too lazy to prepare a balanced meal.
"I'll stay away from ramen for a while…"
"Told you so. You shouldn't have listened to that story while eating."
Yesterday morning, Shizuka had pressured him to continue his story, so as payback, Desmon gave her every gruesome detail. It killed her appetite and made her question whether demons were truly worse than some humans.
What followed didn't bother her at all. Normally, she would've disapproved of that kind of behavior, but just this once, she allowed herself to enjoy the ending of that story.
If you're ready to kill, you should also be ready to die.
Something a certain man would remember for every moment of his miserable, torturous "existence" for eternity.
"Yeah… next time, I'll listen to you…" she sighed, exhausted.
She wouldn't be eating ramen anytime soon.
Without rushing, they continued breakfast like any other day.
Once they were done—and after Desmon was forced to help clean up—they both left the apartment.
"Oh, right…" Shizuka suddenly dashed back inside and came out with two helmets. "While you were busy blowing up a lab and hanging around in a hospital, I bought these," she said proudly, handing one of the helmets to the young demon hunter.
-Oh, right. Guess I forgot to mention that.
Down in the parking area, Shizuka was eager to ride Kurox. This time, she even had a helmet that matched perfectly with the devil arm.
Now it was clear where her money had gone.
"Alright, make Kurox appear."
"Shizuka…"
"I know, I know—be careful. But believe me, between the two of us, I'm the safer driver."
"That's not what I..."
"Oh come on, you're not going to tell me I can't ride it, right? We agreed I'd drive it to school."
Who could resist riding a motorcycle that used to be a demon?
"Just listen to me before..."
"Don't be stubborn and—kya!"
Shizuka let out a cute yelp and rubbed her forehead after Desmon gave her a light tap.
"I told you everything that happened on Saturday."
"Yeah… you did," she said, pouting.
"I forgot to mention that, for some reason, I can't summon Kurox."
"…"
"Hey, Shizuka, you still there?" Desmon waved a hand in front of his teacher, who seemed lost in thought.
"So… that means these custom helmets I ordered…"
Desmon simply nodded.
"I see…"
Even Desmon felt a little sorry for her, watching that bright, excited smile fade into disappointment.
"It was only a few thousand yen… with reinforced material… and custom colors…"
That was what she muttered after stepping into her apartment to drop off their helmets, walking slowly as if the world were about to end. Even if she didn't show it much, Shizuka always got a little excited whenever she drove Kurox — even if it didn't happen often.
"Alright, alright, come on. We've got a train to catch."
With the image of her adult self lost in thought, Desmon ended up escorting his teacher to school. Ironic.
"Have you tried everything?"
"Maybe you were too harsh and Kurox is waiting for an apology."
"Isn't there some kind of demonic workshop we can use?"
Desmon shook his head at every question as they walked to the station. Strangely, he used to feel a faint connection with that devil arm — weak, but noticeable. Now, it had almost completely vanished.
And just to clarify, that connection didn't exist with Alastor, who was currently sitting in Shizuka's apartment because they never bought a case to hide it.
"I'll miss skipping lines…"
As expected on a weekday morning, there was a line to board the train. Shizuka used to just drive her car — the one she'd worked so hard to buy — but now it was nothing more than scrap metal.
"Are they really that bad?"
"You were the one always complaining about this!"
"I don't remember," he said with a sideways smirk.
Waiting bored him, but if he could annoy his teacher in the process, it was worth it. If it were up to him, he'd just carry Shizuka in his arms and jump across rooftops to get to school.
Explaining that would be a bigger problem than actually doing it. He was dumb, but not an idiot.
When the train finally arrived — packed, to no one's surprise — they squeezed their way in, pressed together like sardines.
With the train in motion and Shizuka standing in a corner near Desmon, she could finally relax a little. Because of his height and build, Desmon unintentionally gave her more space — something that might seem trivial, but for anyone used to rush-hour chaos, it was a huge relief.
There was also the matter of harassment and groping on trains, but if Japanese men didn't see Shizuka as a romantic interest, they were even less likely to see her as a target. She just seemed to repel men. It was both her gift and her curse.
And even if she wore something less modest, no one would dare try anything with a tall, foreign-looking boy standing beside her. Anyone foolish enough to try would probably end up with a few broken bones — if Desmon was being kind.
"By the way, Desmon, you could at least try to be a little more subtle."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"My eyes are up here."
"I make my own choices."
Japanese men might underestimate Shizuka, but Desmon never did.
-Is he doing it just to tease me, or is he actually a pervert? Shizuka wondered as she used her hand to turn Desmon's head away.
The answer was probably the first option — with a hint of the second.
A teenager was still a teenager, even if he was half-demon.
…
"Desmon-kun, it's time for club activities."
"Five more minutes…"
The bell had already rung, leaving the classroom empty except for two people.
After a long day in which the young demon hunter had skipped most of his classes, he was now dozing off at his desk — or at least, that was the plan… if not for the girl standing in front of him.
Yukinoshita Yukino was someone who always followed through with her commitments. She took every task with impeccable seriousness and efficiency. Up until now, she'd thought the hardest job in her life was turning Hikigaya Hachiman into a functioning member of society — a task that had shown, little by little, some modest progress.
Though after a certain trip to Kyoto — and thanks to a white-haired idiot who somehow managed not to cause trouble — things between the two dark-haired classmates had been… surprisingly good.
Still, nothing prepared her for the day her teacher asked her to guide and look after Desmon. No one could ever be ready for that.
Just ask the last person who got that job months ago… who, by the way, was still celebrating the fact that the troublesome boy had left their country.
"Desmon-kun, I'm not going to be late to the Service Club just because you want five more minutes."
"You can go without me. I'll show up eventually," he muttered, waving a hand lazily.
"That's not true. You'll just wander off somewhere else."
It wasn't the first, and it wouldn't be the last time Desmon avoided the club.
After all, all he ever got there was another lecture from Yukinoshita about his inability to read Japanese.
"You can speak Japanese that fluently, but you can't read or write it? Is that even possible?"
That had been the very first thing Yukino said to him the day she started teaching him.
Of course, it was possible to learn only how to speak Japanese… as long as you were either a genius or had spent years surrounded by native speakers.
Desmon was neither.
In short, Desmon was weird.
"A ghostly old lady forced me to learn Japanese."
That was his explanation. No one in the club ever took it seriously.
"What are you, a judge or something? Just convict me already and send me to prison. I'll be out in a couple of days," he said without even opening his eyes.
And it wouldn't be his first time behind bars. Apparently, telling the judge you didn't know the law—or calling the jury idiots—wasn't exactly a great defense strategy.
Though, to be fair, holding the record for over five hundred consecutive life sentences was still impressive… or at least it had been, before every record and person involved mysteriously disappeared.
"I didn't know stupidity could be expressed with such confidence. Or do you actually believe you could escape prison that easily…?" Yukinoshita sighed at the boy's ridiculous fantasies.
"You just climb the walls and you're out. Though I have to admit, free food and a comfy bed have their charm. The problem is, no one wants to talk to you."
-I'm sure Hikigaya-kun's the one who recommended those brain-rotting fantasy novels… Yukino thought, shaking her head.
She'd scold her dead-eyed classmate later. Talking with Desmon was nothing like debating with Hikigaya; at least with Hikigaya, she found some amusement in anticipating what clever comeback he'd come up with next.
"There's tea and cookies in the Service Club," she said, rubbing her temple as if continuing the conversation was already giving her a headache.
"Do you think I'm some kind of pet?"
"Pets are cute, and you're not. Besides, animals can use reasoning to understand their surroundings. You can't."
"Are you saying I'm more pathetic than an animal?"
"That would be an insult to animals. Even the germs living at Hikigaya-kun's level wouldn't accept you."
Somewhere else, Hikigaya sneezed without knowing why.
"You really don't hold back with your words, do you?"
"I never do. I just say what I think."
"Well, at least we've got that in common."
Desmon slowly sat up, realizing he wouldn't be able to shake her off.
"I'm afraid that would still be an insult to me."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say…"
Avoiding further lectures from Yukinoshita, Desmon followed her to the faculty room. Once she got the club key, they headed to the Service Club, where Yuigahama and Hikigaya were already waiting.
"Yahallo! Yukinon, Desmon-san!"
As always, Yuigahama was full of energy and good cheer.
"Yo."
Hikigaya, on the other hand, only offered a curt greeting. Yukinoshita had already told him several times that wasn't a proper way to greet people.
Good afternoon, Yuigahama-san. Mujōrei-kun, I see you still haven't learned the basic rules of civilized interaction — though I suppose that's still an impossible challenge for you.
"Thanks, Yukinoshita. Always nice to receive such a warm, human greeting from you."
"I understand. That's probably the most you can aspire to, given your level of human contact. You might improve someday, but I wouldn't bet on it," Yukinoshita said thoughtfully, as if pondering Hikigaya's uncertain future.
And so, Yukinoshita opened the clubroom door while chatting and effortlessly tearing apart her classmate's arguments, as usual.
"Those two always seem to be in their own world when they talk," Yuigahama said, watching them interact.
"Isn't that normal?"
The few times Desmon had been here, it was routine to see Hikigaya and Yukinoshita arguing.
"I guess… but when they start talking like that, they bring up stuff that totally confuses me."
"That's simple. You're just an idiot, that's all," he replied casually while taking a seat.
"Yeah, I'm just an idiot… Wait, I'm not an idiot!"
With Yuigahama protesting and trying to convince Desmon that she wasn't stupid—and that he was the last person qualified to call her that—the Service Club's activities officially began.