What's the over-under on you looking like a huge dweeb?'
Issei blinked and looked away from his hastily scribbled math homework. Considering what they'd been through yesterday, Motohama sounded pretty cheery when it came to his misery. His own, oh no, doom and gloom, salvage your life. But the prick refused to be equal opportunity about any kind of pity, and really, that was just rude.
But he was a persistent kinda guy, you know? Like a fungus, or tar you scrape off your boots, or muck you wipe clean from the windows. Gross and always finding its way back onto your property.
'You're never getting laid lmao'
My, how gross.
The phone was already ringing before he realized he'd furiously hit the button.
For a moment, Issei began questioning the necessity of this thing called socialization, as the phone slowly buzzed in his hand. In the end, if your so-called friends didn't tell you what you wanted or needed to hear, what good were they? Was this entire policy a gimmick by the government to keep him down? Or a trick by some jock to convince him he was missing out on life?
"You're fucked idiot." Was the first thing that came out of the phone. Fucking asshole, jump in a lake.
"Thanks for the support. What good are you? I need it for my documentary about how worthless the friends I had were, and how much potential I lost out on from hanging out with them."
"Better than that mirror you've been looking at for two hours."
"Then no good at all - I tossed the mirror out already."
"You tossed out the mirror."
"It wasn't reflecting right. I'm far more handsome than it claims."
Statickly laughter echoed from the phone, and Issei idly spun on his chair, tucking his legs in so they didn't slam into the table. "Are you gonna help or not?" He demanded testily, switching hands as his right one got tired. It got less workout than the left, so he always made sure to give it extra attention.
"There's no mirror on earth that's gonna tell it the way you want it, idiot."
"God damnit man! I just need help!"
"For what? You met this girl like once."
"Twice." Issei stubbornly insisted.
"Once. The other time you helped her do a grocery run, that doesn't count idiot. Picking up Katase's eraser isn't flirting either. You met her once, and she wasn't even kinda interested in you."
"I just wanna talk to her!" Issei wheedled. "She's pretty! And calls me Ise."
"How'd you pull that off? Blackmail?"
Issei stopped massaging his fingers. "Motherfucker, all I need is advice! Help me! Talk to me! Support me! Praise me! Beg for my attention!"
"Give it up, megalomania is unattractive. It's all about that humble life, these days. And lipstick. Buy lipstick. Dude lipstick. Dipstick."
"All I have is jam and honey."
"It all goes on your face eventually, right? You got the colors right, at least."
"Where the fuck is Matsuda when I need to deal with this bullshit?"
"He's still pissed you didn't tell us you knew a hot girl." A chuckle buzzed gently. "Not that I blame him. I'm pissed too, you little bastard."
"Wait what?" Issei pulled his phone away and frowned at it. "But you're helping me!"
"Am I?"
Issei hucked the phone at his wall, irritated, sending it sailing as laugher bounced around his room until it hit the floor with a crack. He huffily flounced his way out of his room to the parlor, sliding past his mother who slapped his back approvingly on his way through the kitchen.
"You're becoming responsible Issei!" She called after him. He refused to acknowledge any validation that involved further responsibility, so he pretended she didn't exist and tried diving past while swiping a treat from her cooling baking pan.
The second cookie that clipped his ear probably meant she was onto him though, exploding into crumbs as he cried in shock.
His father briefly looked up from the newspaper as Issei stumbled into the parlor, cradling his ear. "Try harder next time." He advised.
"Piss off." Issei grumbled back, rubbing a finger behind his ear to get some irritating crumbs out. Ew, they were kinda oily. He made a mental note to clean up extra extra well before he headed out tonight, flopping onto the loveseat perpendicular to his father's beloved armchair. Dear sweet patermade sure to creak the damn thing a few extra times to assert his dominance or something, but mostly to remind Issei who's domain he'd entered.
Issei grudgingly offered up his cookie, which his loving father snapped up with a rattle and a flash of his hand.
The tv remote bounced once across the couch, almost an afterthought, landing beside him and he quickly saluted the elder man with it.
The tv was already on, news coverage buzzing some repeat story that went right over his head.
"Mom!" He cried reedily, eyes slowly gluing to the screen. "We need a new mirror!"
"Issei, stop blaming the mirrors for your bad fringe!"
"Moooooom!"
His father grunted. "They are pretty warped, aren't they." His hand briefly brushed his thinning part, before shooting back to his lap.
Issei pretended not to see. "Totally."
"The missing finance reports were due to submission at city hall-" "
"Stop encouraging him, dear!"
Dad grumbled fitfully, but fell silent.
"And Issei - didn't you say you were going out tonight with your friends!"
"Totally, yeah."
"What?!"
"Yamada, what can you tell us about the situatio-"
Issei hurriedly raised the remote.
click
"-thank you Hikari, the finance report was from our own local governor! He maintained his stance of hope for the future of his campaign, however seemingly failed to produce any eviden-"
Issei slid the door open further, evening chill weighing his shoulders down, and he shuddered briefly as he entered the warm ramen joint. His hair felt moist, and he realized he hadn't dried it all the way through. What if it curled, what if it blew in weird directions, woul-
"Hyoudou."
Issei's eyes snapped up, meeting the stony glare of the ill-tempered owner of the establishment. Gen looked supremely unimpressed.
"Hyoudou, I told you she showed around six."
"Yeah?"
"It's three-fifteen."
Issei fidgeted, jacket tight around his shoulders. "W-what if she's early?"
Gen sighed.
03:40:08
"-we've been informed that Kuoh's very own mayor refused to comment on the nature of the allegations again, holding his ground-"
Issei spun on his chair, twirling around the loose barstool. Gen's knife was already twitching in his direction.
04:15:49
"-dropping percentage points reveal how restless the public has gotten! Yes, we have another call, this one from-"
5:00:00
"-an uneasy silence from the governor's secretary, who has chosen to deflect any questions regarding-"
6:13:37
A slim hand slid across the countertop, black nails gently rapping across the countertop. Issei blinked the tiredness out of his eyes, but his body already rose to meet hers. She slid past him, still in a half-jacket and skirt, still just as distant as before, though he was right beside her this time.
"Sorry I'm late Gen." An odd expression twisted on her lips. "But I didn't know I'd be having another meeting."
Issei flushed, and all the bravado drained out of him like a faucet. Owning up to magic hadn't made looking this girl in the eye any easier. That would take its own brand of sorcery altogether.
He slowly slid back down into his seat. "It's not my fault." Issei grumbled instead, casting his eyes at his cold bowl of ramen broth.
"He's been here for 3 hours." Came the slow rebuttal. Yuuma's dark eyes danced back to him, and he felt himself sweat a little from the slight amusement in them.
"It's mostly not my fault." He clarified.
"Only mostly?" She slid onto the barstool, rapping her knuckles on the bartable. Gen grunted his understanding, a brief mutter of the usual thenbefore he stumped back behind his shop. The place lay awkwardly quiet, no amount of conversation around them enough to puncture the slight bubble of stillness.
"Hello Ise."
"H-hello Amano-san."
"What brings you here?"
As though she didn't know. The slight play about her lips was obvious to everyone that looked.
"No-"
"Answer properly."
Issei blinked and looked at her. She wasn't looking at him, but he felt the weight of her attention anyway.
"A man's saving grace is his straightforwardness." Her long fingers traced the grain of the table. "I dislike boys that can't do that."
Well now, Issei had to think seriously about the answer. He didn't want her to hate him, after all. But it was tough to tell what to say. He wasn't even sure why he was here himself.
"I felt sad." Issei blurted out. It was the closest thing he could think of. He wasn't really sure whyhe'd admitted it, but only the thought of living up to his words to Kiba kept him going. Issei Hyoudou was a sincere man, after all.
Yuuma leaned back a bit.
"Sad?" She echoed puzzledly. Her dark eyes sharpened a bit, rolling to the corners and staring at him. "What for?"
"Dunno." Issei dipped a finger into a small droplet of condensation, whirling it around in circles to avoid looking at her. But the glare in the center of the circle he made certainly felt like a judging look. His finger twitched and he broke the circle.
Hold on Issei, you're onto something here. That copy of American Cosmo you stole from your mother said chicks loved this shit. Manpain was like an aphrodisiac. You can still spin this into something other than you crying into the arms of a girl you like. God help him, anything but that. Something so impossible as that wasn't something someone like him should do. Instead, he was far more suited to being honest to himself. And no amount of sadness could overcome his libido for sure.
He sure didn't know what was going on with his head, but any time was a good time to try to get laid! Yeah!
Issei bit his lip violently, tearing up from the pain, and turned to face her. "I was hoping you could help?"
He heard a long sigh.
"You bullied?"
Issei jerked his head up violently, looking at her. "What? No!"
Her cheek slid onto her fist, and she lounged in her chair. She shot him a bored look.
"Lonely?"
"Always but no."
"Depressed?"
"God no!"
"Then what?"
Issei shuffled a bit on the chair and looked away, unable to look her in the eye.
READ THE MOOD he telepathically willed at her. Do the impossible! Please for gods sake, give him something!
How was he supposed to have a conversation with this kind of atmosphere?! She wanted him to be honest but that was becoming impossible! She was supposed to blush! And stutter! And pity hi- okay, maybe not that, but she was definitely supposed to empathize with him! And look away so he could sit closer and loom over her! And then he could confess his undying lust for her bosom!
He snuck a glance over, and realized they were nearly the same height. Maybe if he stood on the chair?
Nah.
"My life is a goddamn mess." Issei honestly said. "So it really could be any number of things. But it shouldn't be any of them really, because I'm fine with it the way it is."
She finally smiled a bit honestly. "Then what's the most immediate thing?"
Issei sighed a bit. "I think I'm being roped into a cult." He confessed.
Yes, Issei was convinced that Kiba was secretly part of a super sketchy death cult probably maybe. Ghosts and magic were a thing apparently, maybe all those demon cults were onto something after all. It made too much sense; he was popular, handsome, smart, popular, intelligent, nice, and popular with girls. It was bullshit. Demons were probably involved, which also would explain how his hair remained unruffled in the wind.
Besides, his less than detailed description of his "master" left a lot to the imagination. Issei had a few concerns about that. Especially the fact that they were called master and called the shots. Tits weren't even involved in the process, which made everything about it like 200% even sketchier.
"That's life." Yuuma lazily replied. "Those cults get around. Try and avoid donating too much. And the subway."
Issei slumped in his seat. He hadn't been expecting help or anything, but would some sympathy hurt? Issei swirled his own bowl a bit, sipping at his cooled ramen broth. "You seem unconcerned." He accused.
Her other hand went over her head, and she waved it around. "Don't be so childish. We all have problems."
He was tempted to ask what, but the awkwardness of asking her something so personal held his tongue. She shot him an amused look, like she could tell what was on his mind.
"I'm here to meet someone, actually." She said, after a short pause. "I finally managed to rearrange a meeting, after my plans were..." her lips thinned slightly, eyes growing distant. "...forced to change."
"Sounds tough." Issei said mildly.
Her lips quirked upwards and Issei felt himself blush. He'd actually traded pithy remarks with her! Fuck, he was so cool! He felt super good about that one!
He felt her shoot him a somewhat complex look, but that was no problem because Issei was confident it was all positive.
"You never change, Ise-kun."
"Hm?" Issei's head shot up. "You say something?"
Yuuma didn't meet his eyes, instead pointing forwards. "Ramen's here."
"Ramen's here." Gen grunted agreeably, gently placing the bowl in front of her. She snapped her chopsticks and began swirling the mass, letting the steam wash over her.
Issei felt his words catch on his tongue. It was different, this time.
How odd.
Sound rushed back to him.
Issei leaned down to camoflauge his open staring with some ramen, but caught sight of a blur wandering by.
It appeared to be a small blonde girl, dressed like a nun and spinning in confused little circles as she stumbled past the ramen shop to some heretofore unknown destination.
She caught his eye however, and he offered her a polite smile and an open stare of her decidedly authentic cosplay that suited her very well.
She continued past while Issei watched.
He went back to drinking his broth, tempted to ask Gen to heat it up. But no, Gen would probably punch him if he tried. What a violent chef, how did such a man get business at all.
The little nun wandered by the window again while Issei was lost in thought, and this time he noticed the crowd avoiding her pleading looks.
She didn't seem to speak Japanese, then.
She caught Issei's eye again, and this time he offered her a motivational thumbs up.
He kept watching as she bumbled past the window again.
Yuuma slurped a little. "As good as ever, Gen." She said gruffly. The old man grunted happily. Goddamn pervert, he didn't see that old man reacting to his praise like that!
The little nun tripped past again, the sight of her hapless distress warming Issei's heart.
Issei blandly waved. "All kinds in this city I guess." At least the view was nice.
He nearly fell off his chair as a tall hurricane dashed past him, black hair whipping in her wake as Yuuma slammed the door open, tearing out of the little ramen shop.
Her chopsticks quietly clattered onto the tabletop behind him.
The small crowd outside parted like waves before the somewhat irritated young woman, and she was quickly marching back with the downcast young lady in tow.
Issei had zero problems, because lo and behold! They were both very pretty up close! Heaven was smiling down on him!
The shy young lady blushed, continuing to murmur something in a foreign tongue. Issei felt his smile appear unbidden. It was fine because she was cute! If a filthy gaijin was cute, they were socially acceptable, everyone knew that. Mother, Issei's going international!
Yuuma shot him a somewhat complex look, tucking her hair back a bit. "She wanted to thank you - Asia here caught your look. I suppose I should as well."
"Asia, huh? It's nice to meet you!"
"H-hello? I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I don't understand Japanese..." She blushed and twiddled her fingers, but that was alright because Issei had no idea what she was saying.
Issei slid off his chair as Yuuma tossed some bills on the counter.
"For both of us." She said shortly. Gen secretly caught his eye, and Issei mouthed put it on my tab. The old man snorted and shrugged, but no more was said as Issei followed the two girls out of the store and onto the street.
Yuuma cut a brisk pace, pulling the blonde girl behind her, and Issei was briefly struck by the fact that he hadn't actually been invited to join them.
Would they have told him if they didn't want him to?
He was pulled along, the second time in two days, dragged by a push beyond his own will.
The night grew busy around them. It wasn't quite like the busier districts of tokyo; Kuoh was an old town, and even the flashes of neon were few and far between in the shopping district. Thus, the crowds remained sparse, and Yuuma had no compunctions against bulling her way through. Issei followed close behind, and found himself unconsciously steadying the little nun as she stumbled along.
Eventually, they pushed past, and Yuuma slowed her steps as the buildings gave way to quiet homes gently lit from within, every street crossed further divorced from the crowds behind them.
Steps slowing, Yuuma slowed, and eventually stopped. She didn't however turn, and in the wan streetlight her shoulders seemed lighter than he remembered.
"Hey Yuuma-san." Issei said.
She turned to him again, gorgeous even beside the cute nun, but he already had the words he wanted to say.
"Yuuma-san, I can't read the mood, and I'm no good at being polite." Issei scratched the back of his head. "So all I can do is be honest. Why are we moving towards the old church?"
Her lips moved but no sound came out. He found that he couldn't quite make out her eyes anymore.
"Why wouldn't we, Ise?"
He felt a deep undercurrent, but he simply didn't know what to make of it.
Ah, he was no good at this.
"I heard there were some odd things happening there."
"Yeah." Yuuma replied indifferently. "I heard something like that too."
Issei worked his jaw, but couldn't quite find the words to respond to that. She hadn't said she was staying there...but there weren't many homes along this path. Hardly any at all.
"What's the issue Miss Raynare?" Asia murmured, eyes darting with a budding anxiousness between the two.
"Don't worry your pretty little head." Yuuma muttered. "You have other, far larger concerns I'm afraid."
The nun's hands clenched. "W-what's going on?" Issei raised his head, and held the nun's look blankly. He had no idea what to make of it. Cute though. Shame she seemed so sad.
"I-I came to-"
"We've been cut off. We have few options currently, and you will obey me. Now hush."
Her sharp gasp finally motivated Issei enough to speak up. "W-what's wrong?" He sent the nun a searching look, but the small girl seemed to be preoccupied by Yuuma's words. He'd never resented letting his English lapse before, but he was so rusty he could barely make out one word in every ten.
"She's staying with my family for a little while." Yuuma replied smoothly. "And I needed to inform her of why."
"I...I see."
The church loomed high overhead, deceptively shadowed. Issei felt his nerves prickle, and he took a hesitant step back.
"Would you like to come in, Ise?" A smile remained on her face, but for the first time, Issei realized how fathomless those dark eyes were. "How about it?"
This wasn't the girl struggling with bags. It wasn't the girl smoking by the taxi stand either, or the more mature woman trading barbs with an elderly shop owner.
But did he trust her?