To say that all roads led to the Central Kuoh Grand Shopping Complex was both poetic, and an understatement.
Literally, the roads of Kuoh city had, over the course of three decades of expansion and slapdash city planning, come to revolve about the mall. Figuratively, it was also the heart of the city's economy, being the consistent moneyspinner to be expected of a large commercial outlet in a suburban city. None of this explained, however, why it was considered the emotional heart of the city. The best arcade was privately owned by a father/son business, and the local shopping and cultural center resided a full 3 blocks away.
Perhaps pathos may guide our understanding in this regard, if I said instead that all roads led to the Central Kuoh Grand Shopping Complex three-story FunTimeFiestatm duplex McDonalds.
(10% off for couples)
Thus, Issei Hyoudou found himself living the high life, in the biggest dating hotspot in Kuoh. He could finally set foot inside without weeping from shame or waiting until 2 am for his nugget fix.
Now, he felt unshackled.
He was with a girl, you see.
Sure, his cheeks were aching and his stomach likely felt like it was making good on several threats at once, but he was the sort to bear it, to leave a good impression.
This was, however, easier said than done.
There was no question that she was beautiful, no matter what she was doing. She had a careless grace that made anything she did seem effortless. Her long hair danced in the wind as she moved, burning auburn in direct sunlight. She had eyes like gems, skin as soft as flower petals, and tits like beach balls.
She was, in a word, lovely.
But if Issei Hyoudou was unashamed of his overt attraction to her, then he was equally unashamed of the fact that there were times where he rather felt like wetting himself. There was an absentness to the way she looked at crowds, as though she saw them in the abstract. She brushed people off too easily, dismissed them and ignored their sounds and actions like they weren't worth considering.
She was a devil, in detail, and result.
She wore her inhumanity on her sleeve, and now that he knew to watch for it, it was unconsciously, callously obvious. It set him trembling on occasion, when he said something and her only reply was those eyes, looking at him, horribly blank. She likely meant nothing of it, but even the absence of intent could be terrifying, he'd discovered.
Indeed, perhaps it was personally something of a relief that Yubelluna was dating someone else, making it rather easy for him to simply not think about it.
"Who?"
"My secretary, I suppose?" Riser scratched the back of his head. "She does my paperwork, helps me train, and occasionally dies for me. Have you ever had someone like that?"
"No." Issei said defensively.
Riser started laughing again.
By any metric, Issei himself likely wasn't sure why Riser had agreed to set him up. It hadn't been easy, but once they (read: Kiba) forced Riser into clothing and (Kiba) dialed for his little sister like Riser was a lost child, he'd had settled down into a sort of horror-struck existential despair.
Issei had wasted no time in quietly taking advantage of the poor man's seeming vulnerability.
However, what rolled about his mind was a little stranger than simply that; Riser Phenex had agreed, seemingly on a whim. The look Issei had received in response to his request was altogether a shifty one, not at all what he'd anticipated. Just a look, and a rather odd conversation.
"Why?" Riser's lip curled. "Because you're similar. Annoyingly so. The great Riser can tell already. So just do as I say; you'll definitely get along. Eventually. Thank me when you're done."
He had, naturally, taken it at face value at the time. Perhaps his mistake was in not asking for more information. He didn't wish to ask Yubelluna, either. She scared him.
The pretty redhead never failed to stare Issei in the eye, when he chose to look back. She would stare straight back, and his eyes would fall to the tabletop, as he fought back a flush. He was perhaps the masochistic sort, in that way.
She'd shown up in a rather flamboyant outfit, which likely contributed to his confused attraction, but somewhere along the way, she changed into something more understated.
This made the problem far, far worse. Now he might have thought he stood a chance. It would be a mistake.
One she would make him pay for.
Fitting, ironically, Yubelluna herself had dropped all pretense that this was anything but an excuse to get out; punishment likely the only payback she'd ever try to extract from him. Indeed, she hardly even spoke a word, save to order her meal.
Truly a shame. He'd yet to fall for her, however. Issei Hyoudou had a lifetime's experience of being laughed at by pretty women, to break so easily now. His fear would keep him in check.
He stayed on guard as she continued playing with her food, still slightly worried this was somehow a setup. She dabbed a little mustard on her finger as he watched, absently curious, and licked at it. Her face immediately wrinkled into a pained frown. Issei snapped out of it and went to help her, reflexive pity kicking in as he pulled out a napkin from under his burger box, but she simply reached back and wiped her hand casually on the collar of the man sitting behind her.
He froze, napkin outstretched, as she continued, bringing her digits back several times to make sure she'd gotten all the mustard out. Slowly, he sat back, and wondered if God wouldn't mind just cashing in all that blasphemy and smiting him down right about now.
God did not respond.
Instead, one of their neighbors quietly lifted their meal, and shifted to a table further away.
Issei got the feeling that this, perhaps, was not actually a setup.
Issei Hyoudou was on a date. Well, actually, he'd settled on the polite fiction of a 'practice' outing. But - even still, the thought of a day alone with a girl made his pulse race.
He'd agreed on a place and time, and headed there impatiently 2 hours early. And yet - when he got there, someone was already waiting. She had a face that could chip ice and wore a cocktail dress that sprang from the dreams of Jean-Paul Gaultier fully laced. She blinked as he approached, as though he were the unexpected part of this meeting. It took time for awareness to swirl into her eyes, as she must've realized that he was the one taking her out.
He'd looked away, and hardly dared to look up at her face again.
Issei discovered a new kind of horrible anxiety that day. The lethargic, uncertain kind that leadened your limbs and made you wish to be indoors and safe. It weighed more heavily, every second that she looked at him and he couldn't understand what she thought. It made him tired, and quiet, and really wish he could sleep on her thighs and never get up.
But something made him linger.
The first time he locked eyes with her, he felt something entirely unexpected - a painful nostalgia that stung in his chest and made it burn. By the second blink, it was gone and forgotten. He'd buried it deep inside, where he put everything else he couldn't explain, a great haphazard pile that only grew by the day. It was starting to grow too big now, creeping up his throat, and it was fit to cut off his breath entirely one of these days.
Issei swallowed deeply, girded his loins, and went to meet his sorta date.
It was nearing spring, that queen of seasons, but the sunshine that danced over her already approached the golden hues of late May. It was a sunny, cloudless blue.
Even dappled in searing light, his date drew his eye.
She's taken, you fool. Don't read into anything.
They went to a McDonalds, because he'd always dreamed of it and she seemed to not really give a shit, and sat down for a meal. Yubelluna, was her name. He'd read it off the receipt the cashier handed back.
He'd briefly worried, in a startling flash of self awareness, that she might've been terribly insulted by bringing her here. Then she downed four burgers, one after another, to mild applause. It seemed there was no need to worry, and yet. Issei fought to pass wind unobtrusively and realized the sound of his chewing approached lawnmower frequencies. No relief was forthcoming as they finished eating, and they were still seated quietly in neon plastic seats. Issei rather felt like crawling under a rock.
He simply didn't know what to do! His body felt stiflingly moist, unbearably warm, like all the blood in his body was rushing to his head.
Unbidden, he absently reached into his pocket, and distantly recalled that yes, he had vaguely anticipated this and came prepared. He smoothly slipped out three notes he'd held on to. Good ol' Kiba had slipped him some when he'd asked for advice, and these were his aces.
Uncrumpling one, he read it carefully.
'Offer jacket when outside'
This son of a bitch, it was spring. Kiba couldn't have looked at the goddamn weather report ahead of time?
Oh god he was so fucked. Were they all like this?
He pulled out the next paper. 'Hug her tightly when you-' motherfucker, he was asking for advice about a date, not how to get to second base. Carefully memorizing the advice anyway, he whipped out the third page.
'Ramen?'
Fuck.
He violently crumpled the papers and shoved them into his mouth, chewing with the fury of a man abandoned and swallowing with a deep and twisted satisfaction.
Burping a little, he turned to his companion, who seemed simply enthralled with his newfound behaviorisms. Awkward, yes, but she was looking at him. This was, as implied previously, a vast improvement over the previous state of affairs.
"So." Issei cleared his throat nervously. "What do you do for a living?"
Father! Issei is spouting lines like a telemarketer cold-calling mother to get her opinion on the latest shampoo imports! This wasn't how you said dates went!
Yubelluna simply raised a brow, and didn't reply.
The telemarketers may have had an easier time; Mama Hyoudou was as vulnerable as a nesting chick compared to this frigid young lass. Father, please start picking up the phone, Issei is starting to feel bad for those poor salesmen, they didn't deserve this kind of icy reception.
"I mean," he tried again, sweating a little harder. "You're a devil, right?"
The question hung in the air for a second, before Yubelluna actually seemed to register it. She was sitting in a way that made her seem like the most important person in the room, and her voice had the confidence to back it.
"Obviously." She said loftily. Almost too much so for someone with mustard stains on their collar, but she still made it look dignified. Almost disgruntled at being caught out replying, she simply looked away.
She replied? She responded. Quite casually to boot. He'd been afraid she'd speak in sumerian or tongue twisters or something, but she spoke excellent japanese despite being obviously foreign. Quite the suave cosmopolitan, Issei was impressed!
Come to think of it, Kiba and Riser spoke that well too. Were all devils better at japanese than him? How unfair.
"So do devils...harvest souls? What do they do?" He tried again, needling her a little. She was obviously proud of being a devil.
She sneered a little. "It's a state of being, not a profession. Some devils do, some don't."
Oho. Issei could work with this. He put aside what she was actually saying to digest later, lest he start shaking again.
"I mean." Issei pushed, leaning forwards a little and speaking quietly. "Yeah, but, don't you have jobs?" He peeked out of the corner of his eye, rather self-consciously, but no one seemed to be paying them attention.
Yubelluna blinked slowly. "Obviously." She repeated, seeming impatience continuing to melt away to a kind of dull-eyed apathy. She seemed rather in disbelief about how little he knew.
Come to think of it, what had Riser told her? He was obviously not what she'd been expecting.
"Well then," He gestured onwards, feeling the knot of tension in the back of his head loosen a bit. "What is it?"
She blinked slowly, again, a reflex he couldn't identify. "I don't have one." She stirred a little, placing her hands on the table. A small gesture, but one that meant she was willing to play ball. "I'm..." she hesitated. "I serve Riser."
The moment hung, for reasons Issei didn't understand. Her eyes searched his expression of visible confusion, and whatever she saw seemed enough, because she visibly relaxed.
Some of the confusion Issei felt must've shown, because she elaborated.
"I don't have to work to get paid. I mean, I do, but I don't have to."
More than the magic, or the immortality, that was what got Issei jealous. "That's not even fair!"
Her expression melted, lips almost twitching upward before freezing it.
Something like a smile.
The change was almost too much for Issei, who'd borne the brunt of her icy displeasure for nearly an hour now. He felt rather dazed.
Issei shook himself off. Later Issei, think later.
"He just gives you money." Issei grumbled. "That's so unfair. You can buy literally whatever you want for nothing."
Hair swept like a curtain over one shoulder as her head lolled to the side thoughtfully. "You really don't know anything about Hell at all, do you?." Her tone was wondering.
Issei's head shot up. "Hell? Wait, I've been joking about it for a while, but you actually live in Hell? Fire and brimstone Hell?"
"That's the one." She agreed, yawning a bit. "Didn't that cute knight boy tell you anything? You seemed like friends."
Issei loudly sucked on his teeth and waggled his hand side to side. "It's complicated, but yeah. Not much though."
"When isn't it." She muttered softly. "Anyway, Hell is-"
"-Excuse me, miss." Someone said politely. Blinking, the two turned around to see a young father and his family, seated in the booth behind them, staring at them. The little boy seemed positively enthralled, but the family seemed somewhat irked. The father, especially, had a thunderous cast about his brow. Yubelluna slowly stared back at him, watching the cloudbank grow denser with wrinkles, while Issei hunched lower in his seat, and cast a look about them.
Sure enough, everyone around them had at least one ear and half an eye on their conversation.
"Miz Yubelluna," Issei hissed. "I think we're drawing attention."
Yubelluna didn't respond, except to twist fully around, put and elbow up on the seat, and stare the young father dead in the eyes.
"Y-yubelluna? What-"
"Miss." The man said, turning ruddy. "Please sit down, and-"
She raised her hand and snapped her fingers.
"-And I'd love to fetch you a second milkshake." The man said, expression smoothing out to porcelain. There was a loud sound as people around them shifted en masse.
Issei blinked heavily, reeling slightly, rubbing away a sudden headache that formed betwixt his ears. "That was loud, wh-" He blinked harder and looked around, at everyone now utterly focused on their own wilting burgers. "-huh?"
The father stood up and duckwalked to the line, where he indeed began ordering a milkshake.
"...huh?"
"-as I was saying." Yubelluna said, like nothing had happened, as she twisted back into her seat. "Yes, Hell is real."
"...right." Issei stared at their neighbors from the corner of his eye nervously. The handsome young man missed his mouth with a fry and it went up his nostril. Rather than try again, he simply continued forcing it in entirely.
About a minute after it had vanished entirely into the passage, he started chewing.
Issei wiped away a tear of mirth from the corner of his eye, and turned back to Yubelluna, who'd continued speaking. "...only some parts of Hell are like that, anymore. The others bear a startling resemblance to medieval Europe."
Issei chose not to tell her he hadn't been listening, in case she took offense and killed him, or made him shit his pants or something. "Makes sense," he said instead, "if they were alive then." Issei rubbed the back of his neck lazily, thinking about what he had heard. "Wait, does that mean-"
"-that luxury goods tend to be about as advanced for the most part." She sniffed a little. "Indeed. Coming to the human world is seen as a sign of luxury among the younger devils."
"Wait so," Issei thought about it. "So...when you act like you've never done this before-"
Yubelluna went silent and shrugged.
"Aren't you immortal? Don't you have tons of free time?" Issei gestured outward. "You could come here, right?"
"Yes. But it has nothing to do with time." She said softly.
"...?"
She shook her head and didn't answer.
Issei worked his jaw thoughtfully, thinking of something he could say. Not even he could miss the pall behind her eyes. "So...that's why Riser let you out on a date-"
She snorted loudly.
"-with me..." Issei forced out, gritting his teeth. "You haven't..."
She stared at him blankly.
"...I mean." Issei avoided her eyes. "Whatever. Anyway. You're here now. Why not buy something?"
She stared at him. "Do you have a currency exchange that converts from our money to yen?"
Issei slowly shut his jaw. Right. She wouldn't be paid in yen. Issei himself didn't have a lot of money after buying a fourth nude figma.
Issei slowly shut his eyes, and focused, feeling the 1000000 IQ supercomputer in his mind slowly spin to life, growing faster and faster as he closed the hundreds of threads dedicated to measuring Yubelluna's bust size and cataloguing them with every other woman he crossed on the street. He watched them go in the darkness of his mind with a heavy heart, shedding a mental tear before he refocused - on scheming. Moneymaking was another pastime him and the boys got up to - they only had so much available for renting out porn, so it only took a bit before he was in the zone, generating plan after plan until he finally struck gold.
Issei's eyes flashed open, the intelligence behind his eyes illuminating the world. Even Yubelluna was slightly convinced by his seemingly baseless confidence!
"You said you're not registered as being employed, right?" Issei said.
"...right?"
"Then, why don't we go collect your unemployment check?"
She was struck dumb by the scope of his genius. Sometimes, he scared himself.
"Wait." She leaned forwards. "Japan has unemployment money?"
Issei tapped the side of his head. "Only for the first 6 months after you lose a job. Which would only be a problem, if we were planning on doing this entirely aboveboard."
Yubelluna was interested, despite herself. "How so?"
"You registered as a Japanese citizen, right?" Issei said.
"...right."
"When?"
"Last week, I believe. We're all provided pseudonyms for integration."
"Well, there you go." Issei clapped. "Just claim you were naturalized for some job, but they dropped you or something, and left you stranded. You're covered."
Yubelluna thought hard. "This plan seems to be extremely poor-conceived."
"Probably all those things." Issei agreed. She opened her mouth but he pressed on. "Since you're leaving a paper trail, it'll probably get investigated. But, and here's the best part, just do-" He waved his hand at the dead silent McDonalds. "-that, to whoever shows up to audit your paperwork. He'll clear you, and you're all good in the eyes of the bureau. Probably. Consult a lawyer."
Yubelluna's eyes were approaching her hairline. "How do you do it?"
Issei coughed nervously, off guard. "Well, uh, the way we do it - we had these fake id's made to go drinking, and old Sawamura by the station just hands out loose change if you card and look kinda broke." Issei explained. "So we just put down the fake names we made up and collect. I don't think he's actually done his tax filings since the turn of the century."
"That seems extremely illegal."
Issei smirked. "Ken Shimizu doesn't care. Ken Shimizu also only collects in 400-yen installments."
"Huh." Yubelluna leaned back, expression lightening up. "To think, I was led to believe free money was hard to come by in Japan. And this man simply passes out his own earnings?"
"Not really." Issei admitted. "I think Sawamura steals most of it from the jazz player down on third block by the plaza. They don't like each other much, which makes sense 'cause that jazz dude is a prick."
"And do you give it back?" She asked, leaning forwards a bit.
"A little, when he plays a pop tune."
She smirks. "Not all of it?"
"No." Issei said honestly. "Cause we don't really like him. He ate my buddy Motohama's dog, I think."
"Because he's poor?"
"No, actually, he just makes this really great spiced dog kebab."
"You ate his dog?"
"Well, I wasn't gonna waste it just cause he was cryin'." Issei defended. "He made me pay for it. That was a month's allowance."
Yubelluna threw her head back and laughed.
"Man." Motohama said wistfully. "How the hell did, of all people, Issei land a date?"
"He never said she knew who he was. Could be a blind date. Or she's just blind." Matsuda grunted back, curled up into his seat with his head between his knees. "Or maybe he paid someone? I literally can't think of any other reason a woman would associate with him in public."
"I can't handle the stress of this kind of high-pressure situation." Motohama groaned. "This is terrifying. What if he comes back happy? I don't even care why, any kind of positive outcome to this situation is a big loss. My heart and my ass can't take this."
"Why would you bring up your ass now?"
"Can't you see how sad I am? I'm gonna go home and down a bottle of syrup, I'm so emotionally torn up, and that shit goes right to my hips. How am I supposed to keep my platinum figure? This bishie litheness isn't easy man."
"Certainly." Matsuda agreed lazily. "He should pay for worrying this great Matsuda-sama."
"Shall we round up the class?"
Matsuda raised his head blearily, and looked around the room. People were still streaming in, but small groups were already emerging. "Will they even help?"
"They'll help." Motohama grinned. "It'll take some time though, but someone's bound to take the bait. Allow me to pave the way. MAN, I CANT BELIEVE ISSEI HAD THE GALL TO GET A DATE AFTER PEEP-"
Hana-sensei slammed her hands on her desk so hard it cracked. There was a terrible fury to her eyes.
(Several people had theorized that the reason she was growing unstable was because she was approaching menopause. Matsuda personally believed, and insisted, it was because she was an angry virgin, and accepted her as an object lesson. Regardless, her fury made the whole classroom shake)
Matsuda and Motohama jumped as their seats rattled, and grinned at her.
They were still snickering at the arctic atmosphere in the classroom, whispers erupting in staccato bursts as rumors made the rounds, when Issei slowly dragged the door open, eyes bloodshot.
They jumped again as he slammed into his desk, failing to operate the chair, before giving up and slumping into the wood tabletop.
Motohama immediately stopped laughing and folded his arms, almost a reflexive barrier to reality, as Issei began bucking his hips, trying to get up onto the desk without moving his arms so he'd stop sliding off.
"Dude what."
Issei responded with an inarticulate groan. The screech of Matsuda's chair grinding into the floor as he backed away from Issei snapped the entire classroom out of their fugue, turning to stare at Matsuda, then Issei.
Issei stopped thrusting once it went quiet, briefly looking up to make sure it wasn't because of him, then double-taking as he realized everyone was staring at him and sliding off the desk with a limp thump.
He groaned a little, collapsed on the floor, yet still seemed pathetically grateful for the cover it provided him. He scooted a little so he was under the desk.
The classroom was still quiet. Issei groaned a little louder, and started pretending he'd slammed his shin into the chair. Rolling over onto his side, absently holding the wrong shin, he kicked at Motohama's chair and mouthed what the fuck?
Motohama shrugged innocently.
Frustrated, Issei slowly peeked up, flinching as Hana-sensei's deadbeat glare drove into his skull.
Motohama leaned in a little, whispering from the corner of his mouth. "She got stood up. Again."
"Still creepy dude." Issei whispered back.
Hana-sensei clenched her fists so hard her nails carved little furrows into the shattered wood of her desk.
"Take your seats."
The classroom was seated and organized before she finished. She cast them a long, suffering look, before turning around to quietly begin class.
"Nice one." Issei hissed at Motohama, who shrugged.
Someone slid open the door to the classroom, apology already out, before a bit of chalk exploded next to their head.
Hana-sensei played with her broken stick of chalk as the door slammed shut, looking around the classroom with eager eyes.
"Anyone else...?"
Issei shut his mouth and did his best impression of a corpse.
"I want to go home, I think." Issei mumbled, buffeted on every side by the endless crowds of Kuoh's city mall. It was a common enough sentiment expressed in a crowd, yet failed to encompass the emotional depth behind its expression.
There were, simply, too many goddamn people here. They overflowed from every hallway orifice and at past 4, more than half were Issei's age. Worse still, it was entirely nerds and people on dates, since the club kids were still trapped for a while longer.
He was so overwhelmed by his own self-pity that he forgot to keep up the pace. People began running into Issei as he unconsciously slowed down, and he could barely get an apology before another shoulder drove into his back and sent him spinning again. Bags weighed him down and kept his momentum going as he kept stumbling through the crowd, groans and quiet shrieks the only mark of his passage as he tried to find some respite.
Respite found him instead, deceptively corded arms seizing his shoulder and halting him abruptly. He barely had time to notice the space he now had to breathe before Yubelluna began walking away again.
Cursing a little mentally, he continued to hurry behind her, trying to avoid getting lost in thought. Why was Issei suddenly looking up and paying attention to all these people? Was it because he felt like he had less to be ashamed of when accompanied by such a beautiful lady?
Oh, yes, Yubelluna had agreed to a second date.
Well, actually, she'd said no when he'd reflexively asked as they ran into each other behind the school building. But, she'd said, she didn't mind hanging out.
Issei didn't quite get what she meant, despite agreeing promptly.
But, as he discovered, the difference was as nuanced as the weight on his arms, as this time she moved at her leisure. She seemed far more comfortable, as she wandered the mall, looking into stores and only picking out her most earnest desires.
Honestly speaking, there was simply nothing charming about it now that even the pretense had been done away with; he was being fully taken advantage of.
He stumbled along, trying to avoid tripping over the bags, feeling oddly at peace.
Was it strange, that a nuance he'd failed to grasp still put him at ease? She wasn't the intimidating figure she'd appeared to be, not with HOPELESS writ large across her indecisive features.
"How about here?" She mused. And she waited, until Issei realized he was being asked. It was a pattern that had repeated itself several times already, and every time it was surprising that she genuinely wanted to know. After all, she'd chosen this place because she liked it, hadn't she?
"Sure." He replied absently.
He flinched, as a little discontented frown played about her lips, before she sighed and swept inside. Grunting, at the weight of the bags, he stumbled after her, mind frustratedly a-whirl. Why was she upset?! He didn't get it!
He sighed a little as he dropped the bags, a kind shop attendant offering to let him leave them behind the counter as he wandered the shop. Quickly, he followed after Yubelluna, who was already browsing racks.
Yubelluna turned as he approached, eyes snapping to Issei as she tossed something at his head.
Flinching, he caught it, struggling as it unfolded and wrapped around him. It took a minute to disentangle himself entirely and hold it up for viewing, revealing a turtleneck that had to be two sizes too large for Yubelluna herself.
"That's the kind of thing guys like, right?" She murmured, walking away, already looking into the next isle.
"On women?" Issei replied reflexively, eyes darting from the clothing back to her. "Hell yes!"
She eyed him crossly, leaning back out of her aisle to look at him. "To wear."
Issei's forehead wrinkled, and he gave the shirt a dubious look. He stretched it out, inspected the collar, the lining, the elbow, and decided, "Not a chance."
She snorted in disgust, striding over and snatching it away with a look of disdain. "Typical." She muttered, tossing it on top of the rack and walking away. Shooting the poor, wrinkled shirt a look, he walked away quickly after her. Behind him, he heard one of the retail workers groan as he caught sight of the shirt, and sped up.
He caught up to her as she walked out of the store, bags-a-whirl, slowing down to match her pace as she started looking around the mall moodily again.
Issei closed his eyes and counted to ten, feeling his loins clench themselves in encouragement. Snapping his eyes open, he turned to a grumpy Yubelluna. "What's got your knickers in a twist?"
She sighed again. She seemed to want to speak, or maybe just beat his face inm, but struggled with something before seemingly giving up. Her face was a little lined as she turned to him, sniffing. "It's nothing."
She pushed past him, further into the mall, drifting absently from storefront to storefront, as Issei, caught off guard, struggled to keep up.
Occasionally, when he managed to keep pace with her, he could tell there was something deeply wrong. There was something warring, deep in her eyes, as she looked about.
But she wouldn't tell him.
Issei kept his head down walking on, before he suddenly realized he was alone. He turned quickly and walked backwards, grunting as people buffeted him, not expecting his sudden shift. He pushed through, squeezing between an elderly couple that shot him dirty looks, to finally spot where Yubelluna had stopped.
She stood by a Patisserie. There was a blank, almost empty look to her eyes as she watched them whipping up a sponge cake through the glass.
Issei sidled up beside her, coughing to get her attention. "Started in 1998, the Bellevue branch of a popular French dessertier in Grenoble began a eastward expansion when-" he wheezed as she elbowed him in the gut.
"Shut up." She mumbled, still watching cakes rise.
"You know you can but one, right?" Issei grumbled, letting bags slide back and catch on his elbow, so he could rub at his sore chest. "You have money now."
She didn't say anything.
"Is that why everything you've bought all day is for other peo-"
"Shut up."
"You know." Issei said quietly, hand lowering. "He won't know that you want him to buy you a cake unless you tell him. I'm not sure he even knows what a cake is."
Yubelluna groaned slightly, fingers sliding up to pinch her nose.
"How do you swing between idiot and empath so easily?" Her nasal voice said, muffled behind her hand.
Issei chose to take that as a compliment.
"All I do all day when I'm alone is watch people happier and more successful than me, and pray to God that misery befalls them." Issei replied honestly. "Which also means that I watch the unhappy couples closest. You hear a lot of lines like that, 'How could you not know what I meant?! Are you retarded?! Obviously I meant buy me the bracelet and not her! Kyah! Kyah!'-" He shrugged self-consciously. "-That kind of thing."
"You really are a sad little gremlin of a man." Yubelluna mused, seeming somewhat impressed. Issei felt something deep inside wither and die.
"I hope you didn't mean to say that out lou-"
"Anyway." Yubelluna shook her head, where the little bun she'd tied her hair into wobbled. "He does know what cake is, and-"
"Hey man, I want a slice." Issei called into the store.
Yubelluna reflexively thumped him on the back. Wincing, he rubbed at the sore spot, while turning to glare at her. "What?"
She glared at him. It was adorable, and he briefly hoped she'd cry a little.
Gap-moe?
"I wanted a slice." He defended, straight-faced. "We've been standing here for thirty seconds, I'm hungry."
She continued to glare. Issei turned a little, looking at the baker who looked back at him with a superior look. Issei felt his brow wrinkle, irritated.
"Two slices." He mumbled.
They were out in minutes, warm and soft. Issei thought to enjoy it while they walked, but Yubelluna positively inhaled it, before marching right back to the storefront.
This time, she took great relish in carelessly ordering anything she thought might be tasty. The clerk shot Issei a lukewarm glare when Yubelluna paid herself, but eased up when she referred to him as her little brother.
It was a fiction he was happy to perpetuate, as he attempted to passively comment on the vendor's short stature as much as possible.
This time, Issei made sure to walk away quickly. He knew for a fact that Yubelluna hadn't had time to embezzle that much cash, and he was saving up to pay for a new drill bit.
(The swim team had taken to using sheet metal to stopper any holes they found; the ol' rats in the walls excuse was either failing, or far too successful. They'd need to make preparations more thoroughly)
This time Yubelluna followed, an expression of mild pleasure and a complicated mien of dissatisfaction playing about her brow. Given the chance to compass, Issei beelined for his refuge; the food courts.
They stopped at the mall cafe, and as Yubelluna went off for drinks, Issei collapsed onto the table, allowing the bags to simply slide off his arms with no small relief. Catching his breath, he found his own thoughts as complex as the ones he'd begun reading from other people. It was a rather pleasant surprise.
Yubelluna returned, two massive slushies in hand, smelling like a whole meadow of flowers in a hundredth the space.
"You know," Issei said, accepting his drink, with the deep satisfaction of someone else paying warming his chest. "You never told me what your job was."
Yubelluna raised a brow, lips already pursed about her straw.
"As a devil. You said you didn't have to work, but you did anyway."
She took her sweet time to take a deep swallow, and think about it. "I guess..." She flicked some hair out of her face. "I'm a gigolo."
Issei mentally registered the reflex as embarrassment.
"Wow. Isn't that a gendered-"
"No."
"Oh." Issei felt the urge to cough, and beat it back. "That's..."
I'm so jealous?
"...nice."
She grumbled quietly to herself, her aquiline features twisting a bit, before they smoothened out as she turned back to him. A hint of bitterness lingered in her eyes as she shrugged impassively. "It's okay, I guess. I get money, food, lodging."
"How long have you been..."
"Like, 6 years. I think."
Oh wow, is she actually not that much older than me?
"That's a lot of..." Issei attempted to gesture politely at her emerald necklace. "...customers?"
"Just the one actually."
"Wait..." Issei started. "Wait, do you mean that Riser guy? He said you were part of his peerage."
She shrugged. "Same difference, really.
Issei leaned forwards. "What is a peerage then?"
Yubelluna leaned away, frowning. "Why?"
Issei found himself wanting to reply honestly. "Because..." He searched for the words. "Because it's been staring at me for a long time?" How could he explain? For all that he considered Kiba a friend (and shock, he did) there was an icy wall between them, a line Kiba wouldn't permit them to cross. It was because Yubelluna didn't care at all that he could trust her answers. They were truly meaningless to her.
Perhaps she couldn't interpret his words, but something certainly made it through. She nodded slowly. "Okay." She leaned forwards. "You want to know about devils right? Because you know them, but you don't know them."
That was it exactly. How could he turn away from this world, once presented? Kiba's expectations were simply too cruel.
She rapped her knuckles on the table smartly. "Then, let me tell you something about devils. It's funny, that we're stronger than humans, yet lagging behind in several ways, isn't it?" She flashed a small smile, and it was all teeth. "You see, human civilization grew, and the quality of life accelerated. Devils, by all reports, failed to do the same. Angels, moreso. I hear the Fallen were the only ones who could really keep up and that's-" she snorted. "-well, no one's surprised that a leech robs, are they? Look-" she noticed Issei's expression growing cloudy. "-it doesn't matter. Civilization expands, a surplus of time and space is discovered, and used to expand further. This is the perpetual motion machine of development, and it only grows faster and faster until the whole mechanism rusts away or shatters." She paused here, finger rapping the side of the table to punctuate her thoughts. "And yet, why can devil society not do the same? Why do they lag behind? It is no shortage of creativity, I assure you. There were plenty of humans in hell besides, so even if devils were prone to sloth, the system wouldn't fail so suddenly." A frustrated expression crossed her face. "The answer: an external force, an obstacle that returns again and again to bar their path. War, Devils were at war, and only now have they reached an unsteady truce, to collectively gather their thoughts and allow a new font of creativity to erupt."
"You're at war?"'
"Were." She stressed. "Might still be, but for the moment we are not. It's an uneasy truce. After centuries of battle, peace doesn't come easy to them. Understand, Issei, they've been confronted with an unprecedented opportunity, and many simply do not know what to do with it. Your friend is more fortunate than most. Yet, even he doesn't know where his path will take him."
"What about you?"
Yubelluna did not answer.
"You went to the McDonalds again, you say." Matsuda mused. "You took her out, had a pleasant meal, a long conversation where you both discovered you had stuff in common and proceeded to schedule a third date."
Issei nodded.
"The people around you also applauded as you left, you got a free smoothie, and you found 10000 yen on the ground. These are all things that happened, and that you expect me to believe."
"What can I say? God blesses my every step and Buddha smiles upon my karma."
Motohama sat up from his bed, hurling his phone onto his pillow. "No wait, hold on. Let me say, that the only thing strange about what you described, is that it happened to you."
"Oh yeah?!" Issei cried in protest. "Opposed to who?!"
"Me." Motohama said piously. "Obviously."
Issei kicked a spare seating cushion at his head and he dodged, laughing. The tiny room, no more than 150 square feet, didn't leave much space to dodge, filled as it was with electronic and fibrous paraphernalia. The cushion rebounded off the wall and struck the small tv they had set up on the bedside table, setting it to wobble dangerously.
As one they cried out, diving for it, pausing onto to breathe once they all had hands on it and could safely manoeuvre it away from the edge.
Matsuda kicked at Issei's feet, and Issei fell over. "Dumbass," he grumbled. "Watch the gear. It took all of us to buy that thing, but if it breaks you're totally replacing it alone."
"I got it." Issei grumbled, pushing himself up. "Just help me."
Motohama stretched out, leaning back until he tipped over with a loud squawk. Slowly propping himself up, he turned to Issei, injured. "We've been sitting here for hours. Dude, let's go somewhere."
"Dude, Yamazaki bought a Guilty Gear cab for like, a hundred thousand yen or something, it's crazy. He'd totally let us-"
"No!" Issei slapped the floor. "No Guilty Gear! Help! Help me!"
"With what?!"
Issei tilted his chin up. "I didn't do the essay."
Motohama froze, where he was cleaning his glasses. "Essay?"
"The essay we got a month ago?" Matsuda raised a brow. "The one due tomorrow?"
"That's the one." Issei said loftily.
"Oh shit." Motohama said.
"Oh god you forgot too."
"We were busy!" Motohama protested. "Finding ghosts and shit. Cool shit."
"Yeah!" Issei cheered. "Cool shit! Not like this school stuff!"
"And where the fuck do you get off on correcting us?!" Motohama protested. "You're as lazy as we are!"
"Don't you dare put us on the same level." Matsuda sniffed. "I paid someone to do it for me weeks ago."
"Oh sick."
"I found it." Issei called, emptying out Matsuda's bag onto the floor. Everything fell out in a rush, and from the mess he pulled out a slim folder. Aghast, Matsuda dove over the bed, reaching for Issei, who danced away while holding the folder behind him. Rushing to the other side of the room as Matsuda struggled to get out of bed, he opened the folder and slowly separated out four pages before snapping it shut and tossing it aside. "Four pages." He said in satisfaction. "Damn, that's the max length. Who'd you get to do this?"
Matsuda finally crawled out of the sheets tangling his legs, kicking them aside in irritation before marching up to Issei and snatching the pages away. "Akio from Class 2." Matsuda flipped through them, sighing as he confirmed no damage had been done. "He wanted help checking out the swim team."
"Did you-"
"No, I didn't show him the new hole. I gave him a spare pool key and a net, and told him to start cleaning."
"Dude, genius."
"We gotta try that sometime."
A superior look flashed across Matsuda's face, as he began swelling from the praise.
Issei, fighting the urge to kick him, frowned. "Actually damn, I didn't know Akio was a pervert too. Damn, I've been harsh on the guy."
"Dude, nearly every male in Kuoh is scum, man." Motohama said wisely. "All the smart guys, they probably went to, like, established highschools and stuff. Elevator schools. Only idiots and desperate perverts like us would bother to study hard enough for a converted girl's only school like Kuoh Academy."
"Is the college section even co-ed?" Matsuda frowned. "I wanna check out college chicks too, man."
Motohama shrugged. "Should be. We should visit sometime."
"It'll also be the only time we visit," Issei interrupted. "Unless you fucks help me, and by you, I mean that paper Matsuda's holding."
Matsuda frowned, but handed it over reluctantly. "Make sure you change some of it."
"Dude, totally."
Hana-sensei looked at them flatly. Three piles of paper sat in front of her, lined up, with white-out visibly marking off the names in the top left.
"Let's play a game." Hana-sensei said calmly. "It's called, 'You cheated and I'm going to kill you for it.'"
"That's abuse." Issei ventured cautiously. "Can we play 'Go home and jerk off' instead?"
"No."
"How about, 'A's for everyone.'" Matsuda tried, snapping his eyes out of the absolutely filthy look he'd been using to try to drill into Motohama's head.
"Love that game."Motohama muttered, shifting even further to the side.
Hana-sensei shot him an unreadable look. "You've never played it."
Motohama winced.
"Now, Hana-sensei." Issei soothed. "Why don't we forget this ever happened?"
"Great idea." She said briskly, straightening up.
"Wait, reall-"
"Instead." She interrupted callously. "We're going to play, 'Find the needle in the needlestack.'" She pointed down at the piles. "Find the one that you did." Her eyes narrowed. "Fun fact, you'll have to go off handwriting, because they're identical."
"Actually this is pretty easy. Hardest one's for me." Motohama said. He pointed to one, noticeably more in contrast than the other two. "That one's mine."
"The one you obviously scanned, rather than even bother trying to copy it?"
"That's the one." He said brightly. "The metaphorically monochrome needle in the needlestack. The rest are hay, should be easy."
"Good use of metaphor," She said brightly, hand hovering over the scanned sheet of what was obviously printer paper, and began violently shredding it. "Maybe you'll even get a D in English this year."
Motohama cried out in shock, hand outstretched as though he could stop her. He couldn't. They simply watched her turn it to confetti and spit on the pieces.
"Next." She spoke ominously.
Issei raised a hand nervously. She mimed looking around thoughtfully for a long moment, before pausing and pointing at him. "Yes, Hyoudou."
He lowered his hand. "Mine isn't there."
"I'm glad you pointed that out." She grinned nastily, reaching below the desk to pull out another four pages, identical to the rest, save for familiar handwriting.
Dismayed, Matsuda pointed a trembling hand at the one left over. "Then...who's is that?"
"Funny story." Hana-sensei mused. "It's actually from Class 2, believe it or not. Kid named Akio."
"I literally can't believe it." Matsuda said, straight-faced.
"See, nor could I." She said back, equally blank. "Except for the fact that three fucking idiots turned in essays using Class 2's prompt to my class."
Matsuda stilled. Issei slowly squeezed his eyes shut, regretting ever trusting this moron with anything.
"Ise-kun, are you there?"
"Yo, Kiba." Issei waved the other boy into the empty classroom with an impatient arm. He stepped inside, looking around curiously. It was empty and still, only half the room lights on. The blonde boy stepped inside, sliding the door half-shut behind him and leaning against the wall, observing Issei's grit-tooth frustration with something approaching amusement.
"Why are you still here?"
"Doing lines." Issei grumbled. "Matsuda fucked up and got us double punished." Growling under his breath, his hand went wide, scribbling over the page violently, scratching out all of his previous effort and eventually crumpling the page into a ball. It went sailing across the room, and landed on Hana-sensei's desk along with a small pile of similar pages. He threw his hands up in victory, kicking back in his chair, before turning back to Kiba.
"I notice they aren't here."
"Drew the short straw." He grunted, leaning under his desk and shoving his stuff into the bag. "Whatever, I'm done." Yanking it shut, he swung it over his back and stood up, kicking the seat away as he turned to Kiba. Kiba had moved to the front of the classroom and unwrapped one of the crumpled balls, noting the violent scratchings that had shredded the paper. "I don't think this is what Hana-sensei intended." He said, eyeing the page. Issei snorted as he moved up behind Kiba, uncrumpling the top right corner, where he'd misspelled 'Matsuda.'
"Ah, where's yours?"
Issei pointed at a pile of neat pages arranged by the lectern.
Kiba quietly offered Issei the page, which he re-crumpled slowly and sank into the recycling bin.
There, Issei paused, swinging his bag back up onto his shoulder. "Hey man, how well do you know Yubelluna?"
Kiba blinked in surprise, and twisted around to face him. "Yubelluna? Bo-uh, Riser's queen? Not well, if I'm being honest. Only by sight, and..." his lips twisted a little, but Issei couldn't identify the expression. "...a conversation, in passing."
"Oh, okay." He rolled neck. "Well, I'm starved. Wanna grab ramen?"
Kiba hedged, seeming tempted, before shaking his head. "No, I can't. I came to let you know, actually, I'll be busy afterschool for some time."
Issei shrugged. "Cool man - this still about the Riser thing?" He moved past Kiba, pushing the door open and stepping out into the cool school building. It was late, late enough that most of the clubs had long packed up. It left the place quiet and still, something Issei himself was yet uncomfortable with. Kiba, unsurprisingly, was not, moving beside him and seeming irritatingly at ease indeed.
He shrugged, hefting a bag of his own. "Something like that. I would appreciate you not saying anything to...Yubelluna?" He walked beside Issei thoughtfully for a moment, somehow keeping pace despite taking a wider turn than Issei as they stepped into the stairwell. "How did you come to know her at all, Ise-kun?"
Issei flapped a hand lazily. "Date."
Kiba nearly tripped, stumbling and taking steps two at a time until he found his balance at the bottom, shoes squeaking as he quickly turned to Issei with an aghast expression. "What?"
Issei preened, then realized Yubelluna and Kiba were probably like evil co-workers or something. Maybe they did like, small-talk around the lava cooler. Got coffee by a decorative iron maiden or something. Showing off was not to his benefit, not if there was a chance Yubelluna might be the one to pull his brains out his nostrils. She might make it painful for acting cool.
"Practice." He said hastily. "Riser said Yubelluna hadn't seen much of the human world. I'm basically a tour guide."
Kiba nodded slowly, thoughtfully.
"Be cautious." Is all he said.
Issei shrugged. He knew that. Frankly, Kiba seemed like the one who needed to look out for himself, he still had food stains on the rear collar of his shirt.
Bright red with a little yellow too. Gross. How'd he even do that.