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Challenge accepted from Gin no Kaze

One Too Many

Something's Amiss

Roaming through blood wrenched floors, a symphony of agonized screams of sheer terror; it is always a constant unachievable dream to want out. The older, the stronger want their freedom back – the weak and pathetic only take what is so freely given to them. They literally do not understand the gift that has been bestowed upon them. (To have the ability to easily squeeze through the cracks of sealed demonic domain onto the human one simply because they are so weak, is something any strong demon would want sans the weak part.)

It was luck – a mere coincidence that one of his lowly servants came across such an artifact. A treasure in the shape of something so inconspicuous, the human that created such treasure is truly foolish was his first thought. It was laughable to think that it was so well protected! Now here he was is the human domain. Planning – plotting. Lord Mundus was wrong in thinking that the world should return to before Sparda's betrayal. The humans are smarter now therefore ruling must be taken into a different approach…

"You seem lost," a voice piped up airily, the tone of speech having a dreamy quality to it.

Nero cast a glance at the odd girl he was currently sharing a compartment with, he hadn't noticed her there when he first came until after she spoke directly to him ("your hairs' white, did you know that?") Both the strange girl and he have pretty much ignored each other for who knows how long now. She read her magazine (Upside down too!) while he looked at the scenery with a bored as fuck expression.

The magazine was neatly placed on her lap; her blue-gray gaze was wide and seemingly all knowing. His gut felt heavy, inside (hidden safely under the confines of his own mind) he squirmed. The departing words of Sirius and Remus echoed in the back of his head, the words of each man melding into one incoherent sentence.

"We're not to tell you anything, Nero – however, we will tell you to be wary; what is, is not always what should be."

"You are lost," her expression is blunt as her words.

He scoffed, even though his heart was pounding at the undeniable truth – which was strange because he is not lost. "I'm going to a magic school somewhere in Scotland, I'm not lost."

Slowly a vapid smile spread across her face, "I suppose you're not, if you put it that way."

Nero looked at her with a fatuous expression, "Uh, right. The name's Nero by the way."

She hummed amiably, once again lifting up her magazine. "Luna Lovegood, I hope to see you amongst the raven."

"Yeah, uh, you too."

It remains unspoken between the two but Nero supposes he just made a friend.

Kyrie chewed worriedly on her lips, call it a woman's intuition but something is definitely wrong. His writing was off – all over the place really, and let's not forget the contents in the letter itself. She was a Songstress and a choir instructor for the little ones. She had no experience whatsoever when it came to the art of demon hunting. Honestly, she knows she is practically a sitting duck in case of another mass demon attack – she is a damsel in distress much to her everlasting shame. The only fighting experience she has under her repertoire is the self-dense Credo taught her – which really didn't help her much in the end when Agnus took her. (What was the point in learning self-defense if she doesn't know how use it when the time came to apply it?)

Nero had been teaching her how to properly use a gun in order for her to have some bare chance of survival in case of another attack or at least stall until someone with more experience came to help her when Prof. Dumbledore and his companions came in to whisk away Nero into their boarding school.

She shouldn't be complaining however, she was the one that encouraged (and convinced – persuaded) Nero into going.

Rubbing her tired eyes, the letter lay wrinkled on her desk. The owl she had yet to name turned his head to side in curiosity hooting questioningly at her. "Yeah, I think I'm being a worrywart too."

"Is something the matter, dear?" A sultry near seductive voice queried. Ms. Gloria was a very nice woman if not a little, hem, revealing in her choice of attire. Kyrie sometimes felt a little intimidated by her dominating presence. Was this what Nero saw all the time at the Order?

Kyrie has always been a little demure about all her feminine attributes, after all her mother always said "What's the point in proving to your husband that you are loyal and honorable to him, if you're always displaying aspects for all men to see like an open market?" Although she's not one to judge so quickly – even if Ms. Gloria appeared to be a harlot – so read up on her "demonology" and found out that the devil huntresses attract demons better dressing like that. Ms. Gloria made the saying like honey to a bee quite literal.

But Nero loves Kyrie, and that is the whole truth. She knows this with all her heart, just as much as she knows Credo did what he did because he meant well. (Meaning well, however, didn't necessarily make it a good thing.) He would never leave her for someone was alluring as Ms. Gloria. Her doubts be damned.

Looking at Ms. Gloria's question gaze, all she could do was give her was a very intimidated smile. Ms. Gloria only arched a neatly plucked sliver brow in an 'Oh really, try again' manner. She squirmed under the intense gaze, then next thing she knew she was blurting out all her concerns in a jumbled mess that made no sense to anyone in the room. She heard a confused hoot somewhere in between the floodgate that was her words. Great she confused an owl, an owl! Only Savior knew what she said, let alone Ms. Gloria.

The devil huntress had remained silent throughout her tirade; she had temporarily taken over training the Holy Knights after Nero left. Mr. Dante had said something about being too busy with his business to help train the Holy Knights, therefore the job had landed on Ms. Gloria's shoulders. In fact, Mr. Dante had left for a job yesterday and wouldn't be returning until later on this evening. So the 'babysitting duty' as she liked to mentally refer to it as had landed on Ms. Gloria as well.

Maybe she should learn how to properly defend herself, fear curled and twisted in itself making her stomach ache at the mere thought.

"I see."

"You do," she perked up. Her hands wringing as a stress relief, her face already burning if Ms. Gloria said she was worrying over nothing.

A serene smile replaced the normally seductive one, "Don't worry. I'll take care of it; it's probably the new environment is all." She squeezed Kyrie's hand and walked away.

Kyrie watched her walk away, her worry doubling by the time the woman was out of sight.

Another questioning hoot from the owl had Kyrie tearing her eyes away from the empty space. The small runt of a white owl had it's had tilted, "What do you think? Am I worrying too much?"

The hoot that followed only had her sighing at her predicament. "I'm going crazy here."

Gloria sauntered down the cobblestone path, when she was certain that she had found a secure location she whipped out her phone.

"Yeah?"

"We have a problem, Dante."

There was pause which was followed by crack and rapid fire of bullets, silence. "What kind of problem we talking about here, babe?"

She sighed…

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