Furuichi Takayuki threw on his trench coat and hat and went for a stroll. The air was cool and crisp, a sharp wind rustling through his silver hair and cutting across his cheeks. Maybe he should have gone out earlier, before it got so late. Goodness knows he would have liked to be back at home, lounging in bed, but an urgent call from an underclassman had forced him to give up on his evening plans of... well, it didn't really matter what exactly those plans consisted of.

Honestly, I'd been waiting for months for that H-game. If Mom confiscates it before I get back...

He shivered from both the biting wind chill and dark premonition. It wouldn't hurt if he picked up the pace...

By the time he arrived at the place, it was well past 7 o'clock. Ishiyama high school was an intimidating place after hours, filled with refuge seeking druggies and late night gatherings of teenage delinquents, cigarette smoke spilling from their nostrils as if they were all boiling hot water in their stomachs. Every shadow lengthened in the evening light and threatened to grab hold and drag you to the underworld, and Furuichi knew firsthand just how accurate those primal instincts were in their machinations.

He searched the shattered windows for a light, any at all, and found none. However, he did notice a pair of eyes nervously peering at him from one of the second floor classrooms.

He thinks he's hidden. What a joke.

Though it did appear they had been expecting him. Good, he wouldn't have to bother with stealth.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of tissues. He rolled them into plugs and stuffed them up his nose.

Suddenly the night wasn't so cold. In fact, he felt hot as hell.

"Graphel. Nice to see you."

"Let's make this quick," snapped the spiky haired demon. His eyes narrowed. "I don't waste time in squashing insects."

"Can't be helped. I'll admit it's a bit overkill, but we'll be finished soon enough."

Graphel bared his teeth in a vengeful grimace. "I'll turn them into a carnival of blood."

"Ye-yeah, let's hold back on the killing a bit," Furuichi stammered nervously. He really didn't enjoy his conversations with the hot headed Graphel. Compared to him, the silent Din or polite Vabam were far easier to manage; they helped out briefly, then exited without a single complaint.

No point in getting all sore about it.

Furuichi planted his feet firmly on the ground, squatted low and jumped. That single leap took him straight up into the air, sending him crashing through the window with the sound of breaking glass and ripping fabric. Shit, his coat had caught on those ragged shards. He'd have to sew it up when he got home. Or get Honoka to do it... naw, he should get used to fixing these things himself. These wardrobe malfunctions were happening far too often nowadays.

Now that he thought about it, he wondered how Oga always managed to hold onto his pants no matter how crazy a battle got. They must have been made of the same materiel as the Hulk's shorts and Astro Boy's briefs.

Furuichi looked back and marveled at the height he had vaulted. That was one reason to appreciate Graphel's appearances: he always showed results. He wouldn't have gotten the same altitude with Kne or Wasboga because they simple didn't put as much effort into it. Graphel, however, could generally be counted on to bring his A game, perhaps out of spite for his opponents or perhaps out of pure vaingloriousness.

A creaking of floorboards brought his attention to the opposite corner of the room. Cluttered there were a half dozen or so heavily muscled men, each bearing a poorly designed tattoo of what appeared to be Oga's King's Crest. Judging from their stances they must have been from another nearby district, most likely part of the territory Oga had conquered a year ago.

"All right, let's get this under way," Furuichi began, mindful of the ever impatient Graphel breathing down his neck. "Who are you and why are you challenging me?"

The largest of the delinquents (The silverback of the group, Furuichi remarked), stepped forward and spoke. "We are freshmen from Hokkaido. We are here to challenge the reported successor of Oga Tatsumi."

Furuichi's jaw dropped.

"Hokkaido!? Are you serious? Isn't that, like, miles from here? The hell is with this pilgrimage you guys are doing? And who do you think you're fooling, pretending to be freshmen? You're obviously WAY older than me!"

Graphel facepalmed. The tactician had a bad habit of pointing out the obvious problems with any ridiculous situation. His tsukommi side started acting up or something.

"We are freshmen," the silverback boomed, "But that is not the point. We are here to depose you from your seat of command, general! Now that Oga has left, the seat of head delinquent is up for grabs!"

"AND YOU CAME ALL THE WAY FROM HOKKAIDO?" Furuichi retaliated. "And not only that, but you're a good seven months late! Oga's been gone for a damn long time already!"

"Well, it took us some time to put together the money for the trip..."

"Get your head straight! What the heck is with all the weirdos who come flocking to Ishiyama? Is Oga's name some kind of beacon for idiots?"

"But are you not the legendary idiot second-in-command?"

"Shut up!" he shouted, and punched the boy square in the jaw. The impact sent him flying through the wall and out of the school.

The others gaped.

Shit. That may have been too strong.

Another reason not to use Graphel: the demon's violent personality tended to rub off on him.

"We humbly beg forgiveness," they chorused.

"GO HOME!"

"Well, we're a bit low on bus fare..."

"OUT!"

The delinquents were airborne within seconds. Furuichi watched them spiral away comically.

"Good work, Graphel."

"I'm free to go now, right?"

"Yeah, yeah," Furuichi sighed, removing the noseplugs. The stern faced demon's image faded away and left him alone in the cold night, wind blowing in through the hole in the wall. Toujo would kill him if he found out he was ripping more holes in the building.

In all seriousness, when Oga had left several months ago and left Furuichi in charge of Ishiyama, there had been way too many delinquents coming to challenge his authority. The tactician had been going through several packs of tissues a week. Lamia could hardly keep up with the demand, but it had to be done lest Furuichi be torn limb from limb by ridiculously strong highschoolers.

Honestly... what are they expecting to accomplish? There's no way anyone but Oga could control all those idiots out there.

Anyone but Oga...

Furuichi took the stairs on his way out, waving as casually as possible to the shady characters smoking in the abandoned hallways. He made his way home, the evening feeling even colder than before after the rush of heat Graphel's contract had given him.

Oga was gone. Furuichi was still there.

Honestly... what am I expecting to accomplish?

No one could fill Oga's shoes but Oga.

THIS IS NOT A FURUICHIxOGA FIC. DON'T EVEN TRY TO TWIST MY WORDS LIKE THAT.

Thanks for reading! If there's anything you want to see from this story, feel free to suggest away. Leave a review to tell me what's what, and I hope you have a good day!