"Club activities?"
After school, a classmate's question caught Nero off guard. Oh, right—students in this country are big on clubs. It's like their main after-school gig.
"Yeah, Nero, you'd be a total catch for any club," the classmate said with a grin.
Nero's current persona? The "noble girl curious about the Land of Harmony." No way she could just shrug and say she's not interested in clubs. After a quick think, she flipped the script: "So, Yuki, got any clubs you'd recommend?"
"Oh, tons!"
Yuki started ticking them off on her fingers, dishing out options like a menu: "You're so athletic, Nero, sports clubs would be begging for you—track, tennis, you name it. The anime clubs? They take anyone, and you're gorgeous, so you'd fit right in. Didn't you say you're into that stuff? Oh, and since you're a foreigner, the language clubs would roll out the red carpet…"
Nero just smiled as Yuki rambled on, jumping from academic clubs to chill ones, literature to board games. Finally, she cut in: "Thanks, that's super helpful. But I think I need to mull it over a bit."
"Totally worth thinking about. So, what's your hobby, Nero?"
"Hobby…"
The question threw her for a loop. If she was being real, hunting demons might top the list—but yeah, not exactly school-appropriate.
If you swapped "hobby" for "skills," though, that was easier.
In her sixteen years as Nero, the first six were spent in an orphanage. Back then, she was a quiet, loner tomboy who didn't fit the "girl" mold. She'd take the neat hair Sister Baba fixed for her and chop it up with scissors. Her only real talent? She could crunch numbers faster than anyone else.
Then, Credo's parents adopted her. Raised alongside Kyrie, Nero toned it down. She still refused long hair, but at least she stopped hacking it to bits. To refine her poise, she and Kyrie learned dancing together, along with etiquette lessons. Dance and manners became her thing back then.
After Credo's parents died in a demon attack, Credo took over. Early on, when he was still a fresh Order knight, he'd goof around with Nero and Kyrie, even let Nero touch his badass power sword. But after that, he turned into a stern, no-nonsense big brother, drilling them on studies and nitpicking their posture and etiquette.
By that point, Nero's big skill was practicing holy hymns for the Sword of the Order festival.
Snapping out of her daze, she noticed Yuki looking worried. Nero shook her head. "Sorry, guess I learned so much as a kid, it's hard to pin down what I actually love."
Yuki laughed. "Rich people problems, huh? Sounds kinda sad, though."
Not knowing what you really want? Yeah, that is kinda pathetic. Nero flashed a smile. "You're not wrong. But now that I'm out here on my own for a bit, I'll figure it out."
She grabbed her bag, gave a polite nod, and strolled out of the classroom.
"Alright, time for the real work…"
Once she was clear of the school gates, Nero ducked into a quiet corner. She loosened her tie, popped open her collar, and—somehow—pulled a wide-brimmed top hat from her chest, plopping it on her head. No way that thing should've fit under her uniform, but that's just how it works.
Haneoka's uniform was a pain and a perk. The stiff blazer hid everything—including that patch of demonic flesh on her chest—perfectly.
With the hat, "Mephisto," in place, a faint glow flickered. In a blink, her uniform morphed into a sleek black tailcoat, her hair tied back. She reached into her chest again, pulling out a half-mask with feather-like patterns, gold embroidery, and a beak-like nose.
The mask, "Lamia." It let her phase through walls, but Nero didn't care much for that. She just liked how it looked.
Last up: the Yamato. The second its aura hit, her eyes flared crimson, and her bright blonde hair faded to silvery white.
Disguise complete.
No one would ever connect "Samael," this shadowy figure, to "Nero Fortuna," the transfer student at Haneoka Girls' Academy.
That's why she hadn't even thought about joining a club. She had another identity—one that needed her after-school hours. And right now? Her mission was simple:
Track.
At school, chatting with classmates had helped Nero zero in on a few people with varying traces of demonic aura. Now, she was tailing them, hoping to catch a lead on the big fish.
Day one's target? The one with the strongest demonic vibe. They'd left school before her, but Nero had already clocked their direction from the hallway. Next step: figure out if they were hopping a train or subway, and which line.
No way was Nero, in this getup, blending into a crowd—that'd draw way too much attention. Instead, this black-clad nightingale was leaping silently between rooftops, using her demonic eyesight and sensitivity to track her target.
From a rooftop, she confirmed her target boarding a train. Nero whipped out her phone, checked the train's route, and decided to chase it on foot.
And yeah, she could absolutely keep up.
Soon enough, she spotted her target again near a station, watching them head into their house.
The sky darkened.
Nero was killing time, scrolling her phone, when the house's door creaked open.
She quickly killed the screen to stay hidden. Then she saw it: her target, dressed neatly, stepping out and walking down the street like a zombie.
Just like the "missing classmate" they'd talked about at school.