The corridor of the Club headquarters stretched ahead like a tunnel of polished wood, lit by warm-toned lamps. The soft sound of footsteps echoed, each step mixing with the faint creak of the old floor. The air carried the scent of books and tea, a striking contrast to the stagnant odor of the room left behind.
Rias led the way with steady steps, her posture upright and her gaze fixed ahead. Her presence shaped the atmosphere, creating an aura of authority that seemed to repel any thought of retreat. Gasper kept pace, careful not to stumble, acutely aware of the silent pressure weighing on his every movement.
At the end of the corridor, light revealed the wide clubroom, a space that blended luxury and tradition. Heavy curtains filtered the daylight, staining the air with a soft crimson hue. Shelves heavy with books lined the walls, and at the center, a tea table awaited, immaculate, as if set for important guests.
The transition into the new space brought a different kind of weight. It was more open, yet no less oppressive. The walls seemed to absorb every gesture, every glance, silent witnesses to all that transpired there. Gasper scanned the room, memorizing details and points of interest, as though reading a map that might prove useful later.
Akeno appeared shortly after, crossing the hallway with the natural ease of someone moving through familiar territory. Her presence was less rigid than Rias's, but carried an undercurrent of tension, as if every smile was carefully measured. Passing the table, she let her fingers glide over its surface, a gesture that looked lazy, yet deliberate.
Rias turned to observe Gasper. The scrutiny in her gaze was meticulous, weighing not only his posture but also the hidden possibilities. The decision to release him from confinement had already been made, but the next step demanded more than goodwill: it required results.
Silence settled, dense and controlled. It was the kind of silence that shapes conversations before they even begin. Gasper remained still, letting the tension solidify. In the game unfolding, even stillness was a strategic move.
Rias broke the quiet with a gentle tone, yet one laced with intent.
"You may sit wherever you like, Gasper."
He gave a slight nod and walked to one of the armchairs near the central table. The velvet cushion sank softly under his light frame, releasing a muted fof. His hands rested on his lap, fingers interlaced with the calculated posture of someone making himself small and harmless.
Behind the mask of calm, his thoughts churned.
'Dhampir and Devil... half of each world, whole in neither. An incomplete vampire, trapped at the lowest rung of the Devils' hierarchy.'
The realization carried no bitterness, only cold analysis. Knowing one's place in the pyramid was the first step to climbing it—or toppling it.
The soft sound of footsteps on wood echoed again until Akeno appeared by the table. The smile curving her lips was subtle, but the glint in her eyes betrayed her interest. She studied Gasper as one might a curious artifact, lingering on the faint details of his expression.
"I'll prepare some tea."
The announcement came with a faint clink of porcelain as she gathered what she needed. The sweet fragrance of leaves began to spread, weaving with the crimson-tinged air.
The simple act shifted Gasper's focus. Memories of legendary banquets from the anime he had once watched flickered in his mind—images of almost mythical meals, crafted with care and displayed with pride. Akeno's tea, before him, fit that category—not just a drink, but a ritual.
Rias moved to her desk and settled into the main chair. Her fingers traced the polished wood, and the tall backrest framed her with natural authority. Crimson eyes rested on Gasper, watching without hurry, as if this moment were only the prelude to something greater.
At the side of the room, Akeno began the preparation. The soft hiss of heating water filled the background.
Shhhhhh.
Thin threads of steam rose. Her hands, steady and delicate, chose dry leaves that crackled faintly as they touched the hot surface. The aroma deepened, rich and soothing.
Gasper kept his innocent posture, though his thoughts drifted into weightier matters.
'Climbing the Devils' hierarchy. That's not optional. I can't just be a useful piece; I must be indispensable. But beyond that... if I can find a way to become a pureblood vampire and still keep the advantages of being a Dhampir, then I'll have something no one else possesses. Power. Independence. And freedom.'
Steam swirled in the air as Akeno completed the process, pouring amber liquid into cups with precision, not spilling a drop. The fragrance thickened, mingling with the room's gentle warmth. She set the cups neatly on a light wooden tray, each one aligned perfectly.
The preparation was complete.
With elegant, measured steps, Akeno approached the central table. Porcelain clinked softly against the tray, blending with the calm rhythm of her breath. Reaching Rias, she inclined her head slightly, offering the first cup.
"Your tea, President."
Rias accepted with a graceful motion, bringing the rim to her lips as though it were second nature, an old habit. A soft blow brushed the steam aside before the first sip. The warm liquid slid down, her crimson eyes never leaving Gasper above the cup's edge.
Akeno then turned to him, her movements just as precise. The tray tilted only enough for him to take the cup with ease.
"For you as well, Gasper-kun."
He extended his hands, handling the warm porcelain with studied care, as if afraid to break it. The heat seeped into his fingers, spreading slowly up his arms, a contrast to the chill that seemed natural to his body.
"Thank you, Rias-senpai... and Akeno-senpai."
The sweet, full aroma reached him before the first sip, filling his senses and reviving memories of imagined banquets and anime scenes that always portrayed tea as something sacred. The liquid touched his tongue, and a subtle warmth spread through his throat, keeping pace with his steady breathing.
Akeno watched his reaction closely, lips curving in a restrained smile. She liked that expression a mix of curiosity, caution, and something she hadn't yet named, but wanted to draw out again.
Rias, leaning slightly back in her chair, rested her cup on its saucer and folded her hands on her lap. Her crimson eyes, firm and calculating, stayed on the boy before her. Every gesture, every sip, every glance from Gasper was being recorded and interpreted, pieces in a long game.
The tea's warmth seeped slowly through Gasper's body, clashing with the cold natural to his skin. Its sweet, faintly bitter taste filled his mouth, leaving behind a gentle trail that lingered on his tongue.
'This tea... it's almost as good as blood. Warm, intense, satisfying... but with a calm blood could never bring. If I closed my eyes, I might believe I was drinking something just as precious, but without the weight of instinct.'
The cup touched the saucer with a soft sound.
Clink.
Gasper raised his eyes to Akeno, letting a small smile appear on his lips.
"Akeno-senpai... after Rias-senpai's blood, this is the best taste I've ever had in my life."
The comment cut through the room like a spark. Akeno brought a hand to her lips, muffling a melodious laugh. Yet her violet eyes gleamed with pure mischief as they flicked toward Rias.
The look was a silent provocation, heavy with meanings that needed no words.
Rias, caught off guard, blinked rapidly before feeling the heat rush to her face. A blush colored her skin the same vivid shade as her hair.
Gasper realized his mistake the instant after. Rias's blood was still a sensitive subject, far too intimate to be placed side by side with something as trivial as tea. A slip that, even spoken with apparent innocence, carried layers that could be dangerously misread.
He lowered his gaze, slipping the mask of timidity back on, as if unaware of the true weight of his words. The soft steam of tea still rose from the cups, but the atmosphere in the room had shifted temperature.
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