DxD: Fusion

A/N: Just so no one gets confused, each section will be days since school started. So Day 1, would be the first day of school, and so on. 

XXX

Day 1: Toshio Perspective

The hallway was bustling with female students.

A few clusters of students loitered near windows or lockers, but the usual morning buzz felt muted—controlled. There was a strange undertone of tension, like the academy itself was still adjusting to its new shape. Maybe that was just me, or maybe it was the fact that I was the only guy walking these halls.

The only boy in a school that had only just gone co-ed this year.

My shoes clicked evenly against the waxed floor as I rounded the corner toward Class 1-A. My uniform fit well—pressed, clean, and unremarkable. Speaking of uniforms, the female uniform really was outrageous. Vest cutouts for busts, skirts so short that a slight breeze threatened a wardrobe malfunction. Yet, I couldn't find it in myself to complain. Must be the adolescent hormones. Probably.

I walked toward the classroom. Just another student. Just another face.

I wish.

I was being stared down from almost every angle. It was difficult to ignore. I hate attention. Why am I here again?

I sighed. I adjusted the strap on my bag and stepped into the classroom.

And time slowed.

The first thing I saw—truly saw—was her.

Crimson hair. Vivid, blood-bright and luminous in the morning light that streamed through the tall windows. It framed her pale skin like a painter's flourish, bold and deliberate. She sat near the windows, one leg crossed over the other, posture relaxed but perfectly aligned. Her presence wasn't loud. It didn't need to be. It was magnetic.

Rias Gremory.

Sitting beside her, like the counterpart to a matched blade, was Akeno Himejima. Long black hair, tied in a ribbon, flowed like silk over her shoulder. Her expression was soft—almost shy at a glance—but her eyes told a different story. Calculated. Coy.

Two queens of a forgotten court, placed quietly among students who couldn't begin to fathom what they really were.

My breath hitched.

Only for a second.

"That level of beauty is unreal. Supernatural." It probably was.

I recovered fast enough that no one noticed.

I think.

But she had been watching me since the moment I stepped inside. Her gaze already locked to mine, as if she'd been waiting. A second of stillness passed between us, maybe two. No words. Just a quiet collision of eye contact that lasted longer than it should have.

Something in my chest stirred. Heat. Not emotion exactly. Just movement. A pulse that broke the stillness in me.

It passed as quickly as it came.

I looked away and made my way toward the back row, sliding into an empty seat near the middle. I didn't need to be in the front like last life. I likely already knew everything they could possibly teach. I was two rows away from her.

"Who's the hottie?" someone whispered—loud enough to be heard across two desks. "The only boy in school and he looks like that?"

I didn't react.

But I was sure Rias heard it.

When I glanced back, her eyes were still on me. She wasn't hiding it. She looked at me like she expected something. A word, a reaction, a tell.

I gave her none.

Pretended I hadn't noticed.

Eventually, Akeno leaned in and whispered something—too soft to catch. Rias blinked once, and turned her head, just slightly. The spell broke.

The teacher walked in two minutes later.

She was... well, striking.

Her name, as I would later learn, was Fumiko Takashiro, Takashiro-sensei. Mid-thirties, with a curvy figure poured into a tight-fit black pencil skirt and a deep red blouse. A pair of rectangular glasses perched delicately on her nose, and her dark brown hair was pulled into a smooth bun with a few strands falling free in the front, softening her sharp cheekbones.

She had the kind of presence that suggested she knew she was attractive, and simply chose to carry herself with professionalism anyway.

"Good morning, everyone," she said, her voice smooth and warm. "Welcome to Class 1-A. I'll be your homeroom instructor this year, so we'll get to know each other very well."

Her smile made half the class straighten in their seats. "Let's begin with introductions. We'll go by sur name, alphabetically. Please stand, say your name, and anything you feel like sharing."

The usual parade began. Nervous voices. Polite half-bows. A few girls added hobbies or favorite foods. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Then, my name was called.

I stood slowly, keeping my tone level.

"Toshio Amano. Please take care of me."

That was all.

Short. Unemotional. Efficient.

A ripple of whispers followed. Predictable. I'd expected it.

"He's so calm…"

"Wait, did you see his eyes?"

"…is he from overseas?"

I ignored it and sat down.

But three sets of eyes never left me.

Sona Sitri—class rep candidate and known perfectionist—watched with passing interest, like she was already categorizing me into some mental spreadsheet. Her violet eyes flicked back to her notebook the moment I sat down.

Akeno regarded me with curiosity. Amusement, maybe. Like she'd already started a mental game I hadn't agreed to play.

And Rias… Rias stared with something deeper.

Not desire. Not suspicion.

Intrigue. I think. I hope.

She probably knew something was off. Not enough to identify it—but enough to see it.

I wasn't just a normal human. They all knew it. Even if I looked the part. I knew that my current rank with Reiryoku dominion didn't allow me to hide my presence, hide my aura. That fact I still couldn't rank it up was irritating.

The introductions continued.

Rias Gremory stood when her name was called. Her voice was refined, graceful.

"My name is Rias Gremory. I enjoy reading and tea. I look forward to spending the year with you all."

Simple. Flawless.

Some girls audibly sighed in admiration.

Akeno followed next.

"Hi everyone! I'm Akeno Himejima. I like taking care of my family shrine and brewing tea. I'll do my best to make this a good year!"

Her voice was honeyed, soft and teasing. The kind that made you lean in instinctively, as if she might whisper something just for you. I noticed a few girls had blushes on their faces. If there was a woman to turn a girl…

Sona's turn came near the end of the list.

"Souna Shitori. I enjoy chess. I expect to serve as class representative and I'll ensure we maintain a strong academic standing."

There was a pause, followed by a smattering of claps. She didn't smile. Just adjusted her glasses and sat back down. There was a different kind of admiration towards her.

Also, clapping? No one clapped for anyone else. That was weird.

After introductions, Takashiro-sensei clapped her hands lightly.

"I know this year is a little unusual," she said. "With our shift to co-ed structure, some of you might feel like you're stepping into uncharted waters. Don't worry—it's new for all of us. This was made possible thanks to generous support from several private benefactors, and we'll be maintaining a strict code of conduct to ensure everyone feels comfortable. Uniforms, attendance, and respectful behavior will be expected, as always. For now, it's just Amano-san. I expect good behavior from you." She pointed at me for emphasis. I simply nodded once, which seemed to satisfy her.

The usual rules followed. No running in halls. Uniform skirt length enforcement (it had to be above mid-thigh?). Midterm warning dates. Clubs encouraged but not mandatory. She announced club meetings start today and that we'd have an opportunity to scout and join them. I thought of kendo club almost immediately.

Class drifted on from there.

For me, the lecture barely registered. I took notes when needed (which was almost never), but most of the words blurred. My mind drifted—to the girls who weren't supposed to be real, to the storylines that had once lived on my screen, and to the next three years I was about to live through from the inside.

I had no idea how closely I was already being watched.

And less idea what kind of ripple my presence might be causing.

But I could feel it.

Like a still lake, holding its breath just before the first drop lands. Throughout class, I had given Rias glances, not because I wanted to look, but because it felt like I was being watched. Each time, she was peering at me, an expression like she was trying to piece together a puzzle she couldn't quite solve.

I blame my Reiryoku.

I wonder when the recruitment pitch will come?

The rest of our first day classes were much the same, minus introductions. Stares and glances from Rias included.

At the end of every class, a gaggle of girls would come to my desk, ask me questions. Some were innocuous, "What's your favorite color?" And some were…"Amano-kun what's furthest you've gone with a girl?"

I did my best to deflect or answer politely where I could. Some questions I ignored outright. I hoped once the novelty of being the first boy at this school wore off, I would be left alone more. There's no way I stayed this popular. Especially with Kiba on his way. I hope that handsome devil (heh) took the heat off me. Girls are WAY more forward in Japan than they were in America.

As soon as the last class ended, I headed for the kendo club room. With my skill, joining shouldn't be difficult, right?

XXX

Day 17: Rias Perspective

I took a slow breath as I walked through the courtyard, my heeled school loafers tapping softly against the stone path.

The late afternoon sunlight streamed through the leaves of the trees, creating a mosaic of gold-dappled shadows that danced across the lush expanse of Kuoh's campus. The air was warm and inviting, a gentle caress that wrapped around me like a soft blanket, perfectly ordinary in its tranquility. And yet—my mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, anything but tranquil.

Today, I'd finally decided.

Seventeen days.

Seventeen days of being in the same classroom. Of passing glances, of shared air, of watching from across the room while he somehow ignored the fact that three devils—three high-class devils, mind you—were practically orbiting him with curiosity.

And yet, not once… not once… had he so much as flinched.

Toshio Amano.

I could understand it if he was oblivious. Plenty of humans were, especially boys and men. Being charmed wasn't always conscious. But that wasn't it. He noticed. I know he did. I saw it in the way his eyes flicked toward me whenever he caught me looking, which was almost every time. I saw it in the way he refused to engage—too deliberately, too composed.

It wasn't defiance. It wasn't shyness either.

It was… unreadable.

And that was precisely the problem.

I've been told my whole life that I'm captivating. Mesmerizing. A living flame in a world of candles. Even among devils, my natural charisma turns heads. Not just because I'm beautiful—though I am—but because I command attention. It's in my blood. Gremory pride. Gremory poise. My brother used to say I inherited all of our mother's charm and none of her patience.

But with Toshio?

Nothing.

No reaction. No slip in his mask. Just polite detachment, like I was another student asking for a pencil.

It's not that I need his attention. Of course not. That would be silly.

But… seventeen days?

That's enough.

I adjusted my stride, heading toward the kendo club building, where I knew he'd be finishing up soon. His schedule was practically carved into stone now. Class. Kendo. Home. Repeat.

At first, I'd only paid him casual attention. Anomalies were part of my job, this being my territory (Sona's when I didn't want to deal with something). Magical disturbances, unregistered auras, suspicious new transfers—I'm used to keeping tabs. But this wasn't casual anymore.

He'd become captain of the kendo club less than two weeks into the school year. And not just because he was the only boy. That wouldn't have mattered. From what I gathered, he earned it. Earned it through sheer force of ability. Outdueled the former captain in a clean 3–0 match. I hadn't seen it myself, but the way word spread, I didn't have to. Even Sona admitted it was impressive—and she doesn't use that word lightly.

I'm used to strength. I'm surrounded by it. But refined strength and skill, paired with discipline, paired with such personality stillness?

That was rarer.

And then there were his grades.

Based on his current performance, I'd call him the male version of Sona. Perfect scores. Every test. Every quiz. It was like he had a private line to the answer key. Like he was reading directly out of a textbook. If a teacher wanted to call on someone to get a correct answer, they called on Sona or Toshio.

He never asked questions to clarify. He never stayed after class to ask a teacher a questions. It seemed he only attended study halls to complete written assignment, and quickly left. No matter the topic, he didn't ever look confused.

Sona noticed.

Oh, did she notice.

She would never say it aloud—but I know that look. That tight press of her lips. That slow narrowing of her eyes whenever a perfect paper was handed back with his name on it.

They're tied right now, in terms of academic ranking.

Tied.

Sona hasn't been academically tied with anyone since she was six.

It's delightful.

She tries to hide it, of course. All cool and composed, glasses adjusted just so. But every time Toshio scores another 100, I swear her aura tightens just a little more. I've caught her glancing at him too—just once or twice—but enough.

I like him more every time I see her get annoyed.

"Gremory-hime," someone whispered as I passed. "She's like a real-life princess…" A group of girls huddled to together; soft squeals were heard.

I didn't pay them any mind, other than a gentle nod of my head as a soft, but silent greeting.

Compliments like that have followed me since the day I arrived here. Kuoh has its own mythology about me now. Half of it is exaggerated, the other half isn't exaggerated enough, being a devil and all. I've come to let it wash over me.

I rounded the corner toward the gym buildings, my shoes steady on the pavement. The kendo club should be starting soon. I'd timed it this way on purpose.

Because the truth was—I'd already tried to learn more.

I'd sent Koneko to tail him.

A few times, actually.

The first time? Boring. Straight to the dojo. Trained for hours. Walked home. Backpack gone, shinai case in hand. No red flags—aside from the fact that he left his school supplies behind. Who even does that? He hadn't gone back though…

Still, maybe he had multiple copies of school supplies. Maybe he just didn't care. Would fit into his apparent lack of studying.

But the last time Koneko followed?

That was different.

Kendo club wasn't meeting that day. And instead of going home like usual, he turned and walked toward the forest at the edge of town. Koneko followed—silent, cautious, almost curious herself. Me and Koneko both are confident in her stealth abilities. Probably comes from being a Nekomata.

He rounded a bend a normal walking pace.

When Koneko turned the corner shortly after… he was gone.

Vanished. No trace. No sound. Just empty road and sidewalks and too many unanswered questions about his apparent powers.

I don't like unanswered questions.

Especially not ones wrapped in such a frustratingly attractive package.

So today, I would change that.

No more tailing. No more observing from afar. I would talk to him. Directly. No pressure. No manipulation. Just… a friendly chat.

And maybe an invitation.

After all, he's caught my interest.

And not many things do.

I rounded the final corner just in time to see the door to the kendo club building come into view. A breeze pulled at the hem of my skirt, carrying with it the scent of sakura and wood polish—both familiar notes in the air around this building, given the time of year.

And then he was there.

Toshio Amano, just a few steps ahead, turned the corner from the other direction and nearly collided with me. He stopped abruptly, his frame tensing slightly, only inches away from me. I felt the shift in wind as he stopped, his scent carrying on like it didn't get the memo. He smelled…nice.

For a moment, we stood close—closer than we had ever been before. He took a step back quickly after.

His expression shifted from surprise to neutrality in the span of a heartbeat. Composed. Almost impressively so.

"Sorry, Gremory-san. Please excuse me," he said politely, bowing his head affably. His voice was calm. Clear. Smooth in that way his academic answers always were—measured, efficient.

I raised a hand gently and pressed it to his chest, stopping his motion before he could walk past me.

"Wait," I said, my voice softer than I intended. "It's alright. I was actually hoping to speak with you."

I felt his chest shift under my fingers—just a small breath, caught somewhere in the middle. His eyes lifted to meet mine, and for the first time, I noticed how piercingly blue they were. Like deep, clear water under moonlight. Not just striking—they were unsettling in how still they were. As if he saw through layers most wouldn't even know to hide.

He gave me a look that bordered on understanding. Almost like he already knew what I had come to say.

"We're in the same class," I said, clearing my throat slightly. "But I realized we haven't properly introduced ourselves. Not formally, at least."

He nodded slightly. "That's true. Toshio Amano, 1st year."

Brief. Neutral. And there it was again—distance, wrapped in civility, the way he spoke to everyone.

His gaze dipped—subtle, but I noticed. And I realized belatedly that my hand still rested lightly on his chest. The warmth of him beneath his uniform had caught me off guard. I withdrew my hand slowly.

"I'm Rias Gremory," I said, recovering smoothly. "President of the Occult Research Club. We occupy the old school building just beyond the west courtyard."

He nodded once, not even bothering to pretend it was news. "I've passed by." His voice was the same understated baritone, as if nothing in the universe could rattle it.

"Hm." I orchestrated a small smile, the sort that blurred the line between invitation and challenge. "You should stop by sometime. You might be surprised what you'll find." I leaned into the word "surprised" just slightly—a test, a tease. It didn't work.

His answer was frustratingly vague. "I might. If time allows."

There it is, or isn't. No blush. No spark of intrigue in his voice. He wasn't flustered. Not even curious, it seemed. And that was—impossible. My inherent charm didn't just work on people, it lured them. Enticed them. Yet he stood there like I was just another upperclassman.

Not like I tried to use it against humans regularly, but I've observed the passive effects enough to know.

I felt a flash of irritation, despite myself. It was like flirting with the concept of gravity. My inherent devilish allure—gentler than compulsion, stronger than mere charm—should at least force a blush. Or a heartbeat out of rhythm. Or a stammer. But he just stood there, polite and unflinching, the eye of his own emotional storm.

"Do I make you uncomfortable?" I asked plainly, watching his reaction carefully.

He blinked once. "No, not at all."

No hesitation. Not even a flicker of dishonesty.

"Then what is it?" I asked, stepping just slightly into his space again. "You've barely looked my way since school began. Even the others can't help but stare."

He exhaled, almost as if he were tired of the question. "I just don't see the point of pretending to be amazed by something that clearly expects to be admired."

That… actually stung a little.

I smiled despite myself. "So you think I expect admiration?"

He met my gaze evenly. "You wouldn't walk through school with that aura if you didn't."

There was no sarcasm in his voice—just quiet certainty. It wasn't meant to wound. It was simply true to him. It's like he has an immune system for targeted charisma.

I let out a short breath—half laugh, half sigh. "You're unlike anyone I've met here, Amano-san."

"That seems to be a common opinion lately," he said, almost dryly. "And it's just Toshio, if we're going to keep talking. I dislike being called my last name."

I let his name roll through my thoughts once. Toshio.

"I'd like that," I said.

He tilted his head, just a fraction. "Would you?"

"Yes." I offered him a more genuine smile this time. Not the practiced one I used when getting what I wanted—but something quieter.

He tilted his head, and the blue of his eyes caught the light. "You're… not like the rumors." He said it with the careful neutrality of someone inspecting a gemstone for flaws.

"You're less… theatrical." I had to laugh at that.

"Disappointed?" He shook his head, and there, I thought I saw a single micro-expression; approval?

"The contrary." I was taken aback slightly by those two words, yet he still wore that frustrating neutral expression.

"Does it bother you?" I asked, softer now. "My aura." He regarded me, and for a moment, his gaze flickered to my right side briefly, where one would expect a wing to pop up. A subtle tell. Did he know?

"No," he said. "But I am curious why you wear it like armor." The words struck deeper than I cared to admit. I felt my composure slip, just for a heartbeat.

"Maybe I don't have a choice. Maybe it's just who I am." I noticed my expression had become slightly guarded.

"Maybe." Flat delivery. No change in expression.

"You're not easy to read, Toshio. I don't like that."

"I'll try not to lose sleep over it." Something about the flat delivery…

I laughed before I could stop myself, placing the back of my hand against my mouth. Did he just smirk?

He turned slightly toward the kendo club door. "I should go. Club starts soon."

"Of course," I said. "But think about visiting. We have excellent tea."

That earned me the barest curl at the edge of his lip—if you could call it a smile.

"I'll consider it."

And with that, he moved past me.

"Oh and Toshio?" He turned to me with his hand on the door.

"Next time, you can be the one to ask questions. It's only fair." I simply smiled. He snorted out air and gave a half smile!

"I'll consider it." Then he opened the door and walked in. He said that again on purpose didn't he.

I watched him go, my gaze lingering longer than I meant it to. That half smile, was the most I've seen him emote since he started at this school. But throughout our entire conversation, he remained the same as before.

Still unreadable. Still maddening.

But definitely not uninteresting.

He hadn't looked back once.

I wasn't sure if that annoyed me more… or intrigued me further.

I sighed as I started walking to the ORC building.

"Can't wait for Akeno to tease me about how this went," I spoke softly to myself as I walked away.

XXX

Day 21: Toshio Perspective

I adjusted my grip on my bag as I climbed the main stairwell, the morning light filtering through the windows behind me in long, diagonal shafts. It caught the dust in the air, turning each step into a stage. My footfalls were steady. Quiet.

Kendo had been going well.

Better than expected, honestly.

When I first joined, the girls were suspicious of my intentions—understandably so. First-year boy joins an all-girls club in a school that just went co-ed? The math did itself. The stares, the whispers, the quiet assessments—they were constant for the first two days.

So I just started blas— swinging.

By the end of that third day, suspicion turned into awe. And lust, I think. When I started sparring seriously, showing control and technique that didn't just match theirs but surpassed it—without arrogance or theatrics—they started watching. Really watching.

By the time I fought Hozuki-senpai and won, awe (and more lust) had replaced doubt. But not everyone was quick to follow.

Some of the girls, especially the older second-years who had looked up to Hozuki, were hesitant to take instruction from me as their new captain. I could feel it during drills—the resistance in their stances, the way some of them executed footwork with forced precision rather than intention.

They respected the match result, sure. But that didn't mean they trusted me yet.

So I taught.

Other than changing their regimen to something closer to what the dojo had, I broke down forms and explained why each movement mattered. I adjusted stances mid-swing, walked through their errors, demonstrated silently when needed.

I didn't bark orders—I gave clarity. Guidance. Then I started seeing results.

Footing improved. Guard recovery got faster. Reaction times sharpened. Strikes more precise.

They noticed the jump in skill.

And the hesitance faded.

By the second week, the whispers had changed. Not flirtation. Not uncertainty.

Respect and admiration, as a leader (though I still couldn't escape some lust).

I started getting questions after practice. Notes handed to me between sessions asking for personal feedback. Nods when I entered the room. They started organizing without my prompting. Some of them even formed their own drills based on the feedback I gave.

It wasn't praise I was after—but it felt good to see the effect. To know I was helping them grow.

For my efforts, I receiving something that made it even easier.

{New Skill Acquired: Combat Instruction (Rank 1)

You have demonstrated consistent and effective guidance in martial disciplines. Your ability to teach others has taken form as a skill. Students under your guidance learn faster and retain more. Efficiency of training sessions increased by 25%. Improves cooperation and trust with subordinates in structured combat environments.}

It was… strange. I didn't even know that was a possible skill.

But it made sense.

I wasn't just getting better. I was helping others get better. With less effort. Faster. Like the system was rewarding me for not hoarding my advantages.

I started to think maybe I should use this more intentionally. Create my own training manuals. Tailor specific regimens for different fighters based on their styles and instincts. Test different pacing methods to see what—

Fwump.

I didn't even get to process the warning signs as I stepped on the final riser.

She rounded the corner fast, too fast. Intentionally fast.

Akeno?

All black hair and radiant skin and momentum. I had just enough time to register the flutter of her skirt, the sudden perfume of lavender and white plum—

And then—

Softness.

My eyes widened slightly, not because of the contact, but because she kept coming forward. I staggered back a step. Her boobs had collided with my face like a pair of heat-seeking missiles, pointing tips and all. I felt the impact across both cheeks.

Soft. Supple. Warm.

I could smell her soap.

Akeno made a surprised sound—a small, startled gasp—as she stumbled into me. I tried to regain footing but the weight distribution was off, her momentum was off, and the damn stairs behind me were the worst possible terrain for this.

We were falling.

"No. Absolutely not.

Like hell this is going to end up like some cliché harem anime where I land on the ground with a girl's crotch on my face. I know how this world works. That is exactly how this ends if I don't fix it."

The stairs loomed behind me, eager to ruin my dignity. But I didn't let instinct take over…wait why was that even there?

I acted.

My hands snapped around her waist, fingers curling instinctively. The fabric of her uniform was soft under my grip, but beneath it, I could feel the tautness of muscle and the warmth of skin. She gasped, her body jerking slightly at the sudden contact, but I held firm, steadying her as the world seemed to tilt.

My right foot tensed. Reiryoku pulsed along my limbs. The air around us shimmered faintly, bending under the weight of compressed energy.

Shunpo—

We vanished from the top step and reappeared at the landing in a blur of compressed wind.

The world caught up a second later. The air snapped back into place with a muted whoosh.

Akeno blinked, her eyes wide searching mine in brief confusion, her hands clinging instinctively to my shoulders. "W-What just—?"

"You would've fallen," I said evenly, releasing my hold on her waist as I stepped back slightly to give her space. My tone was calm—measured—but beneath it lingered a faint trace of adrenaline.

She wobbled slightly, blinking again before stabilizing. Her body still radiated surprise—and something else. Was she blushing? Her hands slowly slid off my shoulders as she straightened, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"I was fine," she said with a faint pout, clearly lying.

I tilted my head. "Mm. You're welcome, then."

Akeno smiled, that familiar curve of amusement playing on her lips. "My hero~," she said sweetly, her voice dancing with that usual playful edge.

I said nothing, already trying to step past her. She blocked me with a light hand to my chest.

"You really are quick," she mused, tapping her chin with one finger. "Though… you did fall awfully gracefully into me. Almost like you aimed for the softest spot on purpose."

My eyes met hers. Calm. Neutral.

"I aimed to not fall."

She giggled. "And yet… that was quite the impact. Was it everything you imagined?"

"No," I said. "Softer." Just being honest.

She blinked once, then laughed. A full laugh this time, delighted and utterly amused. "Oh, Toshio-kun—if you're not careful, you'll make me swoon."

"I'll brace for the worst," I replied dryly, stepping past her again.

Before I could make it more than three steps, her voice followed me.

"Would you like to have lunch with Rias and me today?"

I paused.

Turned slightly.

She smiled innocently. "We've noticed how solitary you've been lately. Just a little invite. No tricks."

I hesitated.

It was obviously a trick.

But that didn't mean I had to resist.

"…Alright."

She lit up like someone had just offered her a ring and a castle. "Yay~!"

She literally jumped. Not a big one—just a small, delighted hop.

Her chest bounced as if physics had a personal grudge against my self-control.

I didn't mean to look.

I really didn't.

But I did.

For half a second.

She caught it.

Her grin widened.

"…I'll see you in class," I said, turning quickly.

"Why are my cheeks warm? Wait don't tell I'm…" I didn't finish the thought.

"Looking forward to lunch Toshio-kun~" she sang after me.

I walked up the stairs without another word. My stride even. Measured. Calm.

But in the back of my mind?

I couldn't ignore the pattern anymore.

Rias one day. Akeno the next.

No way it was a coincidence.

They weren't just curious—they were intentional. Purposeful. Like two stars adjusting their orbits, drawing just a little closer each time they passed. No sudden rush. No bold declarations. Just subtle gravity gradually drawing me into their orbit.

And I was starting to feel the pull.

When I first came to this world, I made a vow. A quiet one, etched into the marrow of this second life. That I wouldn't waste it chasing the same empty milestones. That I wouldn't sacrifice myself for humanity. That I'd truly live.

This time, I'd pay attention. I'd reach for things I never let myself want before. That my brain told me I didn't want.

Connection. Experience. Life beyond the sterile logic I used to hide behind.

I didn't know what kind of game Rias and Akeno were playing. Devils didn't move without purpose, especially ones like them. Whether it was amusement, curiosity, or strategy—I wasn't naïve enough to think this was random. If I hazard a guess, it was likely something to do with the recruitment pitch. Maybe it wasn't.

But whatever it was?

I don't think I'm going to run from it.

I'd play along.

Because for the first time in a long time, I wanted to see where something led.

I wanted to know how far they'd go.

And maybe… how far I would. Could.

Maybe they could end up friends, like Murayama and Katase.

I entered the classroom and took my seat without fanfare. The teacher hadn't arrived yet.

From across the room, I felt Rias glance up. Our eyes met, briefly. She had a knowing smirk.

I looked away first this time. Then at Akeno's empty seat.

"Wait why was she going down the stairs if this is our class..."

"…"

"She was totally waiting at the top of the stairs to do that." I could feel my face deadpan.

I sighed. Not a terrible way to feel boobs for the first time in this life I guess.