Translation: Word (Microsoft), there are probably errors in the masculine and feminine pronouns.
Chapter 10
"How strange..."
Alexander looked with a puzzled expression at the boy walking next to a girl with long black hair.
"It appears that the information was wrong," he muttered to himself, letting out a faint sigh.
Without further delay, he turned and began to walk down the narrow, dark street. With a fluid wave of his hand, he opened a teleportation portal that led him back to Kuoh City.
As he went through it, he appeared inside the club of his sister, Rias Gremory.
"…"
Rias looked up from the papers he was reviewing on his desk when he noticed his arrival.
"I had thought you didn't want to study. Or am I wrong?"
Alexander plopped down on a nearby piece of furniture, his attitude relaxed but fraught with some discomfort.
"You are not mistaken," he replied as Akeno approached with freshly poured tea.
"Thank you," he added as he received the cup. Akeno simply nodded before returning to his seat.
"I was looking for someone," Alexander continued after taking a sip of the tea. "But I ended up coming back because the person I found wasn't the right one."
Interest flashed in the eyes of Rias, who rested his elbow on the desk as he watched him intently.
"What person were you looking for?" she asked, her tone filled with curiosity.
Alexander was silent, pondering his answer. Finally, he opted for an evasive one:
"You don't need to know right now, Rias."
Having finished his tea, he stood up and walked towards the wooden door of the office.
"If you say so," Rias replied with a slight shrug of her shoulders before turning her attention to the documents in front of her.
Alexander stopped his pace when he reached the threshold, turning his head slightly towards his sister.
"By the way, Rias. I have heard that the Sekiryuutei is in this place. Be careful."
Without waiting for an answer, Alexander left the office.
"I know," Rias muttered quietly, though her words still reached Alexander's ears as he walked down the hallway of the abandoned building.
Several days had passed since Rias received the reports of unusual movements in his territory. Among the documents stood out a disturbing fact: the recent infiltration of Fallen Angels in the area jointly administered by her and Sona Sitri.
Rias let out a deep sigh, closing her eyes for a moment as she organized her thoughts. Finally, he turned his gaze to Akeno, who was waiting beside him.
"We must prepare for tonight," she said firmly. "There are Fallen Angels infiltrating our territory."
His words were direct, without unnecessary detours. Akeno nodded silently, immediately grasping the seriousness of the situation.
"I will go find Shirone and Kiba to inform them," Akeno replied professionally.
"Thank you, Akeno."
Without further ado, Akeno bowed his way before leaving in the direction of the building where the other students and professors were.
Rias remained in the office, deep in thought.
"Will it be wise to take down the Fallen Angels or just hurt them and let them go?" she muttered to herself, her eyes fixed on the paper she was holding.
The question weighed on his mind. Although the main factions had reached a truce, none were willing to risk the fragile peace with open conflict.
"Will I be able to get away with it if I kill the Fallen Angels who have dared to invade this territory?"
Doubt gnawed at her, but one thing was certain: she could not allow his presence to continue to threaten the safety of Kuoh City.
Rias clenched his fists, his resolve hardening. If the Fallen Angels were willing to cross that line, he would have to make a drastic decision.
"First, eliminate them. Then, deal with the consequences," he finally thought, putting the report down on the table as he prepared to act.
Akeno, who was already in the adjacent building, advanced through the corridors with a determined step. His destination was Shirone and Kiba's classrooms, where he was to deliver the information about the mission they would have that night: eliminate the infiltrated Fallen Angels.
Arriving at Shirone's classroom first, he opened the door carefully and walked up to the white-haired young woman.
"Shirone, we have a mission tonight. Fallen Angels have been detected in the territory."
Shirone, always reserved, nodded without a word, her expression serious showing that she had understood.
Afterward, Akeno headed to Kiba's classroom. When he found it, he repeated the same information.
"Understood," Kiba replied with a slight nod, his tone serene reflecting the confidence he always inspired.
With both informed, Akeno left the classroom and headed back to the place where he knew he would find Rias.
When he arrived, he opened the door of the classroom with the same elegance characteristic of his bearing. Rias was sitting in her usual place. Beside her, Akeno's empty seat waited as if waiting patiently for her.
At that moment, a beautiful teacher with long brown hair arrived. Giving the start of classes.
❅──────✧❃✧──────❅•
The intense sound of the wood striking echoed through the forest clearing, a steady rhythm that filled the air with echoes of focus and effort.
In the center of the clearing, Zekka Miyamoto practiced fervently, his expression reflecting the determination of one seeking to push his limits. In front of her, a young teenage girl, just a few years older, watched with a satisfied smile as she corrected her movements.
"That's it! Hold your posture, Zekka. Don't let your arms falter!"
The young woman's voice was energetic, full of enthusiasm. She called herself Musashi Miyamoto, a name Zekka recognized immediately. Her grandmother used to tell her about the legendary ancestor of her lineage, but she would never have imagined meeting someone who bore that name... and even less in flesh and blood.
Musashi, however, was not just any figure. In his own words, he came from a very different world than Zekka. A place where technology was rudimentary compared to the advances of today's world, but where deities, beasts, spirits and yokai coexisted with humans.
Musashi explained that one day, during one of her trips, she was trapped by an unexplained phenomenon, a black hole that sucked her in without warning and expelled her into this unknown world.
"Very good, Zekka!" Musashi exclaimed excitedly as he adjusted the young woman's posture. "That's the attitude I want to see. Don't stop until your body memorizes every move."
Zekka nodded, sweating, but determined. Each instruction of Musashi carried with it the weight of the experience and knowledge of someone who had mastered his art in a world where danger was daily.
"How am I doing?" asked Zekka, panting as he dropped the wooden sword for a brief breath.
Musashi smiled broadly, crossing his arms as he tilted his head to the side.
"Not bad for someone your age. But remember, Zekka, it's not just about strength or technique. Spirit is what defines a true swordsman. Your bloodline has that spark, and it's my job to help you ignite it completely."
The training continued, and although Zekka still had a long way to go, he knew he was facing a unique opportunity: to learn from someone who not only shared his blood, but embodied the very legend of the Miyamotos.
The sun was beginning to set behind the mountains, tinting the sky a soft shade of orange as Zekka and Musashi returned from the clearing. They were walking along the path that led to the traditional house where Zekka's grandmother lived. The evening breeze cooled their faces, and the sound of nocturnal insects heralded the imminent end of the day.
"Today you did better, Zekka. Your movements are gaining precision, but your balance still needs to be polished," Musashi said as he held his wooden sword to his shoulder. His tone was cheerful, but there was a hint of seriousness that Zekka couldn't ignore.
"Thank you, Musashi-sensei," Zekka replied, panting slightly. "I promise to keep practicing. I don't want to dishonor my family's legacy."
Musashi smiled broadly, showing him his thumbs.
"That's the attitude! No matter how many times you fall, the important thing is to get up stronger. That's the true essence of a swordsman."
When they arrived at the house, the familiar aroma of freshly brewed tea greeted them. Zekka's grandmother, a woman with gray hair pulled back in a bun, sat on the terrace, watching the scenery with a cup in hand.
When Musashi had first appeared, the old lady's reaction had been one of bewilderment. Hearing that a young woman claimed to be Musashi Miyamoto, the legendary ancestor of her lineage, from another world, had generated natural skepticism.
"Such a fantastic story is not easy to believe, Musashi," the grandmother had said with a mixture of caution and curiosity at that first meeting.
Musashi, undeterred, had recounted her experience with such precision and sincerity that, though incredulous, the grandmother couldn't help but consider the possibility. Moreover, the young woman's charisma and skill with the sword left no doubt that she was someone extraordinary.
"Okay," the old woman had finally said with a sigh. "You can stay here, but if I notice something strange, you'll have to leave."
Since then, Musashi had lived with them, helping with daily tasks and training Zekka with the same dedication he would put into forging a perfect sword.
Back in the present, Grandma looked at them when they arrived.
"They're back late," she commented as she set the cup down on the table. "How was the training?"
"Productive," Musashi replied with a smile as he sat down on the terrace. "Zekka is improving rapidly. Soon he will be able to wield a real sword."
The grandmother watched her granddaughter, who now plopped down beside Musashi, exhausted but satisfied.
"I hope so," the old woman said with a faint smile. "If you're going to bear the Miyamoto's name, you should do it with pride."
Musashi nodded, leaning his back against the terrace pole. "Don't worry, grandma. I'll make sure Zekka is up to the task."
At that moment, the calm of the night enveloped the home, as the three of them enjoyed a brief respite before the next day brought new challenges.
❅──────✧❃✧──────❅•
A group of teenagers approached slowly, surrounding two children who looked no more than eleven or twelve years old. The intentions were clear: they were looking for trouble, perhaps out of boredom or simple arrogance.
"Is this Disney, or why so many princesses?"
The sarcastic comment came from the lips of the boy, who was slightly ahead, with an expression of disdain painted on his face. His sharp eyes swept over the teenagers, appraising them with contempt.
Beside him, the girl with long black hair remained unchanged. His vacant gaze seemed to pierce the boys, as if they were little more than insignificant shadows. There was something unsettling about his dark, lifeless eyes, which watched the group with an icy, almost inhuman indifference.
The teenagers, surprised by the boy's brazenness, began to laugh, although their laughter was nervous. One of them, wearing a sports jacket and a swaggering attitude, stepped forward.
"Do you have a problem, brat?"
The boy tilted his head slightly, as if analyzing whether it was worth answering. Finally, with a mocking half-smile, he replied:
"The only problem here is that I have to endure the stench of your breath."
The tension in the air immediately increased. The laughter died down, and the teenagers' expressions became serious. It seemed that the boy's words had hit the mark, igniting the spark of confrontation.
Meanwhile, the girl remained motionless, like a marble statue. She didn't seem worried, or even interested in the situation. His empty eyes swept over the group of teenagers, looking at them as if they were trash littering the road. His presence was unsettling, almost as if his indifference outweighed any insult or provocation.
The teenagers began to get closer, the atmosphere was filled with palpable tension, but the boy did not move an inch. A faint wry smile appeared on his face, as he placed a protective hand in front of the girl, as if he needed no more than a gesture to protect her from any threat.
"If they want to play, go ahead. I just hope they don't cry when they lose."
One of the group, with more arrogance than common sense, quickly advanced and threw a surprise jab, seeking to intimidate the boy. However, the attack was dodged with almost insulting ease. The boy, agile as a predator, tilted his body slightly to the side, letting his fist pass as if he had anticipated each movement.
Before the attacker could even react, the boy stretched out his right hand precisely, grabbing his face with relentless force. The teenager's eyes widened as he felt the crushing pressure of the boy's fingers.
Without hesitation, and with a force completely unexpected for someone of his size, the boy propelled him to the ground. The impact echoed through the concrete like thunder, fracturing the ground beneath his feet. The teenager's head was buried in the ground, with small cracks extending from the point of impact, as if the ground itself had given way to the brutality of the act.
The rest of the group was paralyzed. Their faces paled as they processed what they had just witnessed. Fear. Shock. Incredulity. None of them could move, as if the weight of horror had nailed them to the ground.
The boy calmly straightened his posture, shaking the dust from his hand as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. The girl, next to him, showed no reaction, her empty eyes barely bothering to look at the body of the unconscious teenager on the ground.
Without even saying another word to them, the two children continued on their way, completely ignoring the petrified group that was watching them in terror.
Every step they took felt like a sentence, and the teenagers, now unable to articulate a response, understood that they had no chance. Fear had won.
As they continued walking, the atmosphere returned to a tense calm. The footsteps of the two children echoed softly on the road, as if nothing had happened moments before. It was then that the boy broke the silence.
"By the way, who was the person who was watching us before?"
His voice sounded carefree, but there was a tinge of curiosity. His eyes were still focused forward, but his mind seemed to be reviewing what had happened.
The girl, with her usual indifference, responded without even turning her head.
"No idea."
The boy let out a small sigh, followed by a faint wry smile.
"If you don't know, then I guess it's not worth worrying about."
Although his words seemed carefree, they both knew that they weren't so naïve as to completely ignore the situation. They had felt that gaze from afar, a presence watching them intently. But, after a brief analysis, they determined that he did not represent an immediate danger.
As they recalled that moment, the girl added in a monotone voice:
"He stared at us for a while, but in the end he didn't do anything. I probably didn't want trouble."
The boy nodded slightly, saying nothing more. The figure that had been watching them had disappeared as mysteriously as it had appeared, and there was no sign that it was a threat.
Both let it go, more out of strategic decision than disinterest. There was no reason to pursue someone who showed no intention of attacking them. However, his steps were more attentive, and his senses more alert.
Entering the nearby forest of the city that seemed even quieter, as if holding his breath in the presence of those two children whose intimidating aura did not match his age.
❅──────✧❃✧──────❅•
As night shrouded the city of Kuoh, an air of tension hung over the group led by Rias Gremory. Beside her, Akeno, Shirone, and Kiba walked with firm steps towards the abandoned church, a place that had lost its sanctity long ago and now harbored only darkness and danger.
They entered cautiously, moving through the shadows as the wood creaked beneath their feet. Every sound seemed amplified in the silent structure. Their demonic eyes quickly adjusted to the gloom as they descended a narrow staircase that led to a dark basement, a place so oppressive that even the air seemed to resist being breathed.
When they reached the bottom, their gaze met a group of Fallen Angels waiting for them. There was an unearthly twinkle in his eyes and an aura of hostility filled the room. The demons and the Fallen Angels exchanged glances, each side measuring the other, preparing for the inevitable.
From among the group of Fallen Angels, a figure emerged. She was the leader, a woman of imposing presence, with a cold smile that only intensified the tension in the atmosphere. Without saying a word, he stretched out his right hand, and in a bright flash, a spear of light appeared in his palm. The glow of the spear briefly illuminated the basement, casting dancing shadows on the stone walls.
"So they finally arrived." His voice echoed in the basement with a mocking and defiant tone.
Rias stepped forward, her posture elegant and confident.
"They are in my territory. Do not expect to be allowed to leave without facing the consequences."
The Fallen Angels adopted combat positions as Rias' group prepared for the inevitable battle. Akeno cracked a slightly sadistic smile, as his hands began to sizzle with electricity. Shirone, though stoic-looking, positioned himself quickly, and Kiba drew his sword in a fluid motion, ready to strike at the slightest hint of danger.
The leader of the Fallen Angels pointed her spear of light at Rias, her eyes flashing with determination.
"Then it will be as it should be. Let us show them, brethren, that we will not give up so easily."
The confrontation was about to begin, and the atmosphere charged with magical energy promised a battle that none of them would escape.
Parallel Story: School Festival (Sixth Date)
The sun began to set on the horizon, tinting the sky with orange and pink tones, while the bustle of the school festival took over the high school. The halls were filled with students dressed in yukatas and themed attire, handmade decorations adorned every corner, and the aroma of street food filled the air.
Serafall, wearing a beautiful black yukata with pink flower patterns, gently tugged at Senji's sleeve, who was dressed in a simpler but elegant, dark blue yukata.
"Look, Senji-chan! There are so many things to do!" she exclaimed excitedly, pointing to the game and food stalls.
He looked around, nodding calmly. "It's a lively atmosphere, that's for sure."
"Come on, I want to play catch goldfish!" said Serafall, taking his hand without waiting for an answer.
The fishing stand was full of students competing to catch the most fish with the fragile paper nets. Serafall, with surprising concentration, managed to catch three fish on her first try, while Senji watched her with a faint smile.
"I did it! Look, Senji-chan!" she said, proudly showing him her small bag of fish.
"You're surprisingly good at this," he remarked, crossing his arms.
"Of course! Did you expect less from me?" he replied, sticking out his chest with a beaming smile.
After the games, they headed to the food stalls, where they shared yakisoba and takoyaki as they strolled through the festival. Serafall kept commenting on how wonderful the atmosphere was, while Senji quietly enjoyed his joy, occasionally nodding or responding with short comments.
Night fell, and with it came the most awaited moment of the festival: dancing around the campfire. A huge bonfire was lit in the center of the courtyard, illuminating the faces of the students who began to form circles around the fire. Traditional music echoed in the air, creating a magical atmosphere.
"Senji-chan, come with me!" said Serafall, taking his hand and leading him into the circle.
"I'm not very good at this stuff," he tried to protest, but Serafall's smile and the way she looked at him made it impossible for him to refuse.
"Just let yourself go. It's fun!"
As they began to dance, the simple but synchronized movements became more and more natural. Serafall, with his trademark energy, guided Senji with a mixture of enthusiasm and grace.
Soon, the circle began to open up slightly, leaving room for the two of them as the students, especially the girls, watched them admiringly.
"They look amazing together!" one of the students shouted, prompting the others to start cheering.
"The perfect match!"
Serafall, hearing the screams, turned to Senji with slightly flushed cheeks but a big smile. "Look, Senji-chan, everyone supports us!"
He kept his expression calm, but his eyes reflected a warmth he rarely showed. "I guess we're kind of flashy."
"Somewhat flashy no, we're the best!" she said, clasping her hands with his as they continued dancing.
As the music began to soften and the crowd dispersed slightly, Serafall and Senji found themselves closer to the campfire. The warm glow of the fire lit up their faces as flames danced in their eyes.
"Thank you for coming with me, Senji-chan," Serafall said in a softer tone, her hands still clasped with his.
"I don't usually do these things, but... I have no regrets," he replied, his words simple but charged with sincerity.
She smiled, leaning slightly towards him. "You know? This might be my favorite festival of all."
"You make it special," he said without hesitation, causing Serafall to blush even more.
As the last notes of the music faded and the bonfire began to subside, they both stood there, enjoying the moment, surrounded by the warm glow of the fire and the magic of a night neither of them would forget.