Itogami Island — In one of the alleys.
A complex magic circle appeared out of nowhere, expanding rapidly and glowing with a cold blue light—only to vanish just as quickly as it had emerged.
"It seems we've arrived," —a girl's voice echoed. It was neither loud nor delicate, but something in between… like a breeze passing over a flame: warm and enticing, yet carrying a sharpness that told you she bowed to no one.
The speaker herself was like a masterpiece carved from the very essence of strength and beauty. A girl of breathtaking allure, her presence demanded attention. Her features seemed sculpted to perfection, yet beneath that divine surface, something far sharper stirred.
Her hair was the first thing to capture the eye: silvery with a faint violet hue, cascading in thick, lustrous waves down to her waist, gleaming as if woven from moonlight and morning dew.
And then there were her eyes — twin amethysts burning with a rare, unearthly light. They didn't just reflect color; they emitted fire. Despite her mesmerizing beauty, her gaze wasn't soft or yielding—it brimmed with wild defiance and an unmistakable confidence that shattered the serenity of her features, giving her an aura of untamed grace.
"It seems we got separated from Reina-chan and Moegi-chan," —another feminine voice spoke, softer and more refined, carrying a hint of noble grace. She glanced toward the older girl beside her—"What should we do now? Should we go see Otō-sama, Tsurara-neesama?"
The girl who spoke looked like the promise of a bright spring morning—her very presence radiated comfort and gentle joy. Her beauty touched the heart before the eyes; her delicate features opened into a friendly expression that glowed with sincerity.
Framing her face was short, pure white hair like seafoam—soft, fine, and light, dancing around her like a whisper of wind. Each strand seemed to drink in the daylight and shimmer with a tranquil glow.
Her eyes were calm oceans of sky-blue, filled with warmth and hope. They carried no shadow of mystery, only the openness of a kind and honest soul. The quiet smile on her lips completed the portrait of innocence. Dressed neatly in her school uniform, she looked like a living embodiment of purity and positivity—a presence that left behind traces of serenity wherever she went.
"Are we going to see Papa?" —asked the youngest of the three, a little girl who seemed about eight or nine, the very picture of childhood innocence.
A gentle, warm light seemed to follow her wherever she stood—her presence tender and soft, the kind that made people smile without knowing why. She didn't flaunt her beauty; she invited it quietly, surrounded by an aura of childlike peace.
Her silvery-white hair fell in smooth, even lines, like a ribbon of cool silk, giving her a tidy, angelic appearance. Her eyes—clear emerald green—were steady yet curious, observing the world with an oddly calm depth for a child her age.
Her expression was soft, her face calm and composed, with a quiet thoughtfulness rare for someone so young. The cheerful blue jumpsuit and teddy-printed shirt she wore emphasized her age, highlighting her innocent charm.
"Of course we are," —the slightly older silver-haired girl smiled as she bent down to lift her little sister into her arms—"So there's no need to worry, Satsuki-chan."
"Let's go, Satsuki, Mira," —said Tsurara, the eldest of the three, as she led her younger sisters out of the alley.
The moment the girls stepped into the open, they were greeted by a sight both familiar and strange—enough to make them pause, eyes wide with curiosity.
"It's amazing seeing the island more than twenty years before our time, isn't it?" —Mira, ever the polite one, smiled softly as her eyes took in the scenery she knew so well, yet so differently.
"Indeed. It feels like we've actually traveled back in time..." —Tsurara replied with a faint smile, though her sharp violet eyes kept scanning their surroundings with cold caution. The alleys were unnervingly quiet, and the golden reflection of the nearby sea painted everything in an almost dreamlike hue—equal parts nostalgic and unsettling.
Not far away, two male voices drifted from around the next corner, filled with confidence and humor. Moments later, two young men in their early twenties appeared. One was tall, with messy black hair and a confident smile fit for a model; the other had shoulder-length blond hair, blue eyes, earrings, and sharper, more mischievous features.
"Oi, look over there. That silver-haired girl... isn't she unbelievably gorgeous?" —the blond said lightly, raising an eyebrow in clear admiration.
"Gorgeous? That's an understatement, man. She's a walking legend," —his companion, the one with the slightly muscular build, replied slowly, his gaze shamelessly sweeping over the three girls. His tone mixed awe and amusement—"I feel like I'm in one of my best dreams."
"Your dreams always involve beautiful girls, don't they?" —the blond laughed, giving him a playful nudge.
"Of course! It's my sacred hobby," —the muscular man declared with mock solemnity, raising his hand as if taking an oath, before adding with a smirk—"I just can't see a girl with that kind of aura and not try my luck."
The two approached the girls slowly, their teasing tone masking genuine curiosity.
"Hey there, ladies," —said the dark-haired one in a smooth, warm voice designed to lower defenses—"Are you lost? I could be your tour guide anytime—for free... just one condition: a single smile from you."
Tsurara arched an elegant brow, her expression cool as she replied, her tone carrying a hint of refined sarcasm:
"It seems you think far too highly of your own charm, stranger."
The muscular man frowned, while the blond let out an impressed whistle:
"I like girls who bite back. That's the dangerous type, my favorite kind."
"So how about we head to my hotel, huh? I've got cash to spare and just finished work," —the muscular one said suggestively, reaching out to grab Tsurara's hand, clearly unwilling to take "no" for an answer.
"In that case," —a cold voice cut through the air—"how about I book you a one-way trip to hell instead?"
The man's hand was caught midair—gripped tightly by the newcomer.
Silver hair tied messily into a loose man-bun, ocean-blue eyes, handsome pale features, and a perfectly balanced muscular build—
It was none other than Kojou, who had sensed the magical waves with a frequency similar to his own and arrived just in time to see the three girls being harassed.
Crack!
A sharp, echoing sound split the air—the sound of the man's hand bones shattering.
A stifled scream burst from his mouth, more out of shock than pain, his face freezing in disbelief.
Veins bulged across his hand as sweat trickled down his forehead. He tried desperately to pull free from Kojou's grip—but it was futile.
That hand was like iron—cold, unyielding, merciless.
"L–Let go of me, you bastard!" —the man shouted, trying to yank his arm back, but Kojou didn't even flinch. His icy blue eyes bore into him with merciless calm.
Kojou raised an eyebrow slightly, speaking in a voice that was calm but carried an unmistakable edge:
"Just your hand? I think you also need a few lessons in manners... and maybe in how to speak to women."
"Kojou..." —Tsurara murmured softly as she watched, a faint smile curling her lips. She knew that feeling well—the cold before the storm.
Meanwhile, Mira gently placed her hand on little Satsuki's shoulder, whispering:
"Don't worry, everything's fine now."
"You should probably let him go, Kojou-kun..." —Tsurara finally said. Her tone wasn't commanding; it was more like she was observing, testing whether he'd listen.
But Kojou didn't turn to her.
"Don't worry. I won't kill him... I'll just make sure he remembers this pain every time he tries to touch something that isn't his."
Then his grip tightened—
Crack!!
This time, the scream rang out clear, echoing through the alley as the man fell to his knees, clutching his arm bent at an unnatural angle.
The blond stepped back, trembling, his earlier grin gone.
"Hey, we were just joking! No need for all that violence!"
Kojou turned his head toward him, his cold gaze freezing the air between them.
"Joking?" —he said slowly, eyes narrowing—"Strange, I don't recall hearing any laughter from the girls."
The blond immediately backed away, waving his hands frantically.
"Alright, alright! Message received! We won't go near them again!"
Once the two had run off, Kojou released the man's arm and shoved him aside with chilling nonchalance. Then he exhaled quietly and turned toward the three girls.
"Are you all okay?" —he asked, his tone gentler now, though the underlying authority remained.
Mira gave a small, respectful bow.
"Thank you for stepping in, Otō-sama. You were as fast as ever."
Little Satsuki gazed up at him with wide eyes before whispering softly:
"Papa… is really strong…"
Kojou gave a faint, knowing smile as he rubbed the back of his neck.
"Looks like I was right."
"I didn't expect to see my daughters at the same age as me—or even older."
...
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