Rias narrowed her crimson eyes, a thoughtful hum escaping her throat.
She had received Natsuki Minamiya's administrative request that morning to keep tabs on the human boy.
As the territorial overseer, Rias knew she bore partial responsibility for the stray Cursed Spirit incident that had slaughtered Satoru's parents.
To square that karmic ledger, she had quietly funneled fifty million yen into his accounts under the guise of an emergency insurance payout, while keeping a watchful eye on his recovery.
From purchasing exercise equipment to relentless training, his every moment outside of eating and sleeping was dedicated to strength.
And now, he was even challenging dojos.
"Minamiya-sensei's assessment was spot on," Rias murmured, setting her teacup down with a soft click.
"He's leaned too hard into an extreme coping mechanism. Power at any cost. We need to reach out before he breaks himself."
"What do you plan to do, Rias?"
Akeno, ever radiant, tilted her head with a smile that didn't quite hide her concern.
"Are you going to lay out the truth about devils and supernatural factions?"
"Yes." Rias' tone left no room for doubt. "The pursuit of strength is natural, but obsession can lead to dangerous paths. Better to guide him openly than let misunderstandings fester."
Buzz—!
Before Akeno could answer, a brilliant crimson light erupted from the floorboards near the far wall, casting long, writhing shadows across the room.
"It's summoning me."
From the couch, a petite silver-haired girl who had been playing handheld games finally stood, brushing back her bangs.
As a low-ranking devil, fulfilling human contractual wishes was part of the daily grind.
Stepping into the geometric matrix of the summoning circle, Koneko channeled her demonic energy.
The room dissolved into a vortex of displaced space, dropping her instantly into the coordinates provided by the client's flyer.
When the light faded, she stood inside a room cluttered with dumbbells, training mats, and a faint scent of sweat.
"Greetings, client. I am the devil who answered your call. May I ask what desire—" Koneko began, reciting her mandatory contractual greeting by rote.
She froze mid-sentence.
Blinking her golden eyes, she stared up at the tall, sweat-dampened human leaning against a pull-up bar.
"…Excuse me," Koneko tilted her head, her expression blank. "Are you... Satoru Mikami-senpai?"
"It's me," he replied casually, holding out a small plate of snacks. "Want some?"
"Thank you for the meal."
Koneko delicately brushed a stray crumb from her lips, her expression softening into genuine satisfaction.
"Senpai, where did you even find this specific brand of matcha daifuku?"
"Two blocks past the south gate, Akikubo Sweets," Satoru replied, grabbing a towel to wipe his neck. "Heard the head baker trained at Totsuki. If you like them, I'll add a box to my weekly grocery run."
"That's unnecessary... I shouldn't burden my contractor with personal errands."
"Relax, consider it a senpai treating a kouhai. There's no rule against buying snacks, is there?"
Koneko blinked.
He wasn't what she'd expected. Rumors said he'd gone cold, obsessed with strength after the curse attack.
Violent. Distant.
But now...
"You're different from what the president described."
She admitted.
"How so?"
"..Nicer."
Satoru shrugged.
"I don't think I've changed."
He used to be a model student. Polite, quiet, disciplined. No fights, no drama. Member of the Homecoming Club even.
But the rumors said otherwise. Why?
"I didn't mean it in a bad way, senpai. Please don't misunderstand."
Koneko hesitated, then added, "I heard it from the president. She said you've been training obsessively since the attack. Like you've gone extreme."
"I have." Satoru said plainly.
"What?"
He lifted the summoning flyer and waved it.
"Guess why I summoned you?"
"To fight?"
"Bingo."
He stood up, cracking his knuckles. "Let's spar. I need Someone to push me."
Koneko stood up, brushing down her pleated skirt. A faint, competitive spark ignited in her cat-like eyes. "If it's just a spar, I won't hold back either."
She smoothly shed her school blazer, adopting a low, balanced martial arts stance.
As a reincarnated devil, her physical parameters far exceeded human limitations; a single well-placed punch from her could shatter concrete.
Guiding a human through a safe training session should have been trivial.
She moved a table aside, clearing a space in the room.
"Whenever you're ready, senpai."
"Don't blink."
Before Koneko's brain could fully process the warning, Satoru vanished from her line of sight, closing the distance in a blur of displaced air.
So fast!
Koneko's combat instincts flared. She snapped her small palms upward, throwing up a defensive guard just as Satoru's fist slammed down like a falling piston.
Bang.
The kinetic shockwave rattled the room's windowpanes.
Blow after blow rained down in a blistering, unbroken tempest.
Koneko expected to easily deflect an ordinary teenager's strikes, but within three exchanges, her arms went numb.
Wait... this isn't normal human strength.
Satoru's close-quarters technique was a horrifyingly optimized hybrid—fluidly stitching together the explosive throws of judo, the brutal angular strikes of sanda, and the snapping leverage of taekwondo into a cohesive, lethal art.
He wasn't just matching her; he was systematically dismantling her timing.
"You're losing focus," Satoru's voice cut through the air.
Ten seconds elapsed.
The Boost entry silently fired within his nervous system, doubling his raw output in a single heartbeat.
A heavy, roaring strike slammed directly into Koneko's crossed forearms.
The sheer, compounding velocity caught her entirely off guard; her footing gave way, and she stumbled backward, desperately trying to reset her distance.
"Too slow."
Before her heel could touch the floor, Satoru closed the gap again.
With practiced ruthlessness, his hand clamped securely around the back of her collar, driving her backward with unstoppable momentum.
Thud.
Koneko's spine hit the living room drywall with a sharp impact, knocking the breath straight from her lungs.
Before she could channel her demonic aura to break the pin, Satoru's forearm locked horizontally across her throat, pinning her firmly against the wall.
Her breath hitched.
For the first time since taking the contract, a deep, unfamiliar flush crept up from her neck straight to the tips of her cat ears, turning her pale cheeks a violent, unexpected shade of crimson.
Her desperate resistance was nothing more than a fading pulse against a relentless tide.
Perhaps sensing her every move, Satoru blocked all of Koneko's punches with only a single hand.
And worse for her—during the exchange, his strength surged once again, the aura of his Boost pulsing like a war drum inside his body.
Koneko's chest tightened as her lungs struggled to pull in oxygen, her vision tunneling into a stark, dizzying blur.
Just as the crushing weight threatened to break her composure, the hand pinning her throat vanished instantly.
"Are you alright?" Satoru's voice broke through the rushing sound in her ears.
How could she possibly be alright?
Sliding helplessly down the pale drywall until she hit the floorboards, Koneko caught her breath with ragged, shuddering gasps, her small palms pressed flat against the carpet.
"...I honestly thought I was going to die." she admitted, voice trembling.
"My apologies," Satoru said, scratching his head with genuine perplexity.
"I honestly didn't realize you'd tire out this fast. I assumed a high-ranking devil would still be holding back a secret trump card."
Koneko's golden eyes snapped up in utter disbelief.
"???"
Is this guy even human?
A deep, violent flush rapidly spread across her pale cheeks, burning hot beneath her bangs. For a moment, she couldn't tell if it was from exertion or embarrassment.
Forcing herself up with shaking legs, she met his gaze with unyielding stubbornness.
"That was my mistake. Let's go again."
"Are you sure? You don't want a breather?"
"No need!"
Channeling her innate demonic aura, Koneko unlocked her full combat state.
Satoru, whose strength had just pulsed for the third round of Boost, tilted his head slightly and beckoned her forward with one hand.
"Then this time, don't hold back. Come at me."
•
[Akeno Himejima]
•
[Koneko Tojo]
*****
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