Kuoh Town had sunk into a deceptive lull. For some, it was a long-awaited respite; for others, a return to dreary routine. And for me, Izayoi Jin… it was a reminder that even in a world of demons and magic, most of the time is taken up not by epic battles, but by corrosive boredom.
Kuoh Academy. Several Days Later
The school corridors buzzed with their usual, almost serene life. Sunbeams danced on the linoleum, breaking through the tall windows and illuminating the flickering figures of students. Somewhere, girls laughed merrily, whispering about the latest school news; elsewhere, guys heatedly discussed yesterday's game or the new manga releases.
Exams were approaching, and the air was saturated with a mix of mild academic panic and the sweet anticipation of summer vacation. Nothing, it seemed, betrayed the recent clashes with mad exorcists, bloody altars, and shadows of a forgotten past. Freed Sellzen was dead (or gone, which was all the same to me), and the city had put its mask of normality back on.
I strolled leisurely down the corridor, hands in my pockets. The noise of the crowd flowed around me without touching my consciousness. I felt like a stranger at this celebration of life, a spectator who had accidentally wandered into a movie theater in the middle of a boring melodrama.
'Lessons again, empty talk again,' the thought flashed through my mind as I passed a classroom where a teacher droned monotonously about Heian-era poetry.
This quiet was irritating. Not that I craved blood or destruction every second, no. I just needed… a shake-up. An event, a challenge, something that would force me to use my gifted power not for swatting away school bullies and not for secret training in wastelands where the only opponent was the air. I needed a goal worthy of my might, or at least entertainment capable of dispelling the creeping apathy.
During the break, Issei Hyoudou caught me. He looked more cheerful than usual, though a shadow of the uncertainty left after our first serious clash with an enemy still splashed in the depths of his eyes. But now it was overshadowed by some feverish enthusiasm.
"Hey, Izayoi!" Issei slapped me on the shoulder with a swing. "How's life? Everything quiet?"
"Too quiet," I grunted, shaking off his hand. "Why do you look so pleased? Find a porn mag on the road?"
"Oh, shut up!" Issei grinned his trademark guileless smile, letting the jab slide. "Just glad no one's trying to kill us. I'm training a little bit. Buchou says I'm making progress with the Boosted Gear."
I just huffed. Issei's progress was obvious, but his methods… Let's just say they were specific.
"By the way!" Issei lowered his voice, looking around conspiratorially. "Tonight I have my first 'serious' job! A solo contract! Some guy wants me to help him… you know, deal with a ghost in an old house. Buchou said it's excellent practice for a beginner like me."
"A ghost?" I raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Isn't that a bit cliché for a world where fallen angels and dragons walk the streets? Sounds like a cheap horror movie."
"Well, Buchou says it's most likely just a poltergeist or residual energy, nothing dangerous," Issei shrugged, but then broke into a dreamy smile. "But hey, experience! And what if there's a cute ghost girl there? Or the lady of the house is so grateful to her savior that… heh-heh-heh…"
Issei's eyes shone with a greasy luster. Classic. This guy's perversion was a constant that neither mortal danger nor common sense could change.
"Good luck," I tossed out, preparing to leave. Listening to his wet fantasies was not in my plans.
"Hey, wait!" Issei hesitated. "Listen, don't you… want to drop by the club today? Buchou was asking about you. Akeno-san was also… interested."
I stopped. The Occult Research Club. Rias Gremory's citadel. The place where they tried to tame me with tea, cookies, and polite smiles.
"No," I cut him off. "I'm not a member of your little circle, Issei. And playing happy demon family doesn't interest me. Tell your Buchou I have more important things to do than eat sweets."
"Well, suit yourself," Issei looked disappointed but didn't insist. "Then I'm off! I still need to prepare!"
He dashed away, burning with determination to prove his coolness (and likely hoping to meet some beauties), and I watched him go.
'Let him have his fun. Maybe he'll actually learn something. Or get his ass kicked. That's experience too.'
...
Evening descended on the city slowly and thickly. The sky was painted in crimson tones, as if portending trouble, but the city didn't notice, lighting up the first neon signs.
I didn't go home. Sitting within four walls was unbearable. My legs carried me away from the center on their own, toward the old districts where the shadows were deeper and the people fewer. I just walked, enjoying the cool air and letting my senses scan the area. It had become a habit—keeping the "radar" on.
And then I felt it.
At first, it was like the faint smell of burning carried by the wind. But it wasn't a smell. It was energy. A sharp, unpleasant, "cold" surge. It cut across my perception, making me stop in the middle of the empty street.
This sensation… I remembered it.
"Fallen…" I muttered, looking toward the outskirts.
The signature was weaker than that psychopath Freed's, but distinctly hostile. Again.
And next to this cold, prickly sensation, something else pulsed. Weak, but pure, filled with light and warmth. A strange, contradictory combination. As if someone was trying to start a fire in the middle of an icy desert.
'What the hell?'
I tuned into my superhuman senses, filtering out the noise of the city. Sounds of a struggle. They were coming from the direction where, by all appearances, the abandoned district was located. The very place where Issei seemed to be heading for his "ghost."
I smirked.
"A ghost, you say? Uh-huh."
Part of me wanted to turn around and walk away. This was Issei's problem, and his master Rias's. I had made it clear I wasn't going to be their nanny.
But another part… the part that had been languishing in boredom all these days, the part looking for a challenge… it had already made a decision.
Someone was disturbing my peace again. Someone was waving holy weapons around on my territory. And if it was the Fallen, they might turn out to be interesting enough punching bags to brighten up this dull evening.
I bolted from my spot.
The asphalt crunched pitifully under my feet. My speed was such that to a casual passerby, I would have been just a gust of wind. I raced through alleyways, vaulting fences, cutting corners. The sensation of hostile energy became clearer, pressing on my temples, causing not fear, but cold rage.
The sounds of the fight grew louder: the tinkle of something like glass, muffled cries, malicious female laughter.
And then I was there.
I froze in the shadow of a dilapidated wall, assessing the situation. A small two-story house, clearly abandoned by its owners a decade ago. The windows gaped black; the yard was overgrown with weeds.
And in front of the house, a familiar, almost comical in its predictability, scene was unfolding.
Issei Hyoudou, his Boosted Gear flickering dimly on his left arm, was desperately fighting off a woman. A beautiful woman with long jet-black hair and… equally black wings on her back. A Fallen Angel. A spear of light blazed in her hand.
"Die, worthless demon!" she hissed, her face twisted with malice. "Your power will be ours!"
Issei retreated. He was wounded—a fresh burn smoked on his shoulder, his clothes were torn. He tried to counterattack, shouting "Boost!", but his movements were clumsy. He clearly lacked experience.
"Damn… President…" he whispered, stumbling over a piece of rebar.
The woman wound up for the final blow. The spear of light flared blindingly bright, ready to pierce him through.
I watched this, and a cold wave of irritation rose inside me. Not at the Fallen. At Issei. At his weakness. But letting him die here would be… wasteful.
Besides, that strange, warm energy I felt wasn't coming from him. It was hiding somewhere nearby, behind the house. Curious.
'Time to end this circus, I suppose,' I decided.
I didn't shout or give a warning. I just took a step forward, stepping out of the alley's shadow onto the moonlit patch of ground in front of the house. My aura, which I had been concealing until now, spilled out in a heavy, crushing wave.
The Fallen Angel, already bringing the spear down on the fallen Issei, froze abruptly. Her wings twitched. She felt it. She felt the presence of someone more dangerous than any "ghost."
She whipped around, her eyes widening in surprise as they met my indifferent gaze.
"Who the hell are you?.." she hissed, instinctively taking a step back from Issei.