AN: busy, too distracted here's next set still no computer

Everyday, he would always be there before me.

I would wake to the sound of his voice.

I would bid "good mornings" and "goodbyes" to that face.

I would return home smiling, greeting him "I'm home!"

Everyday, he was there in front of me.

And every day seemed bright and full of life.

But now he is gone.

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Immersed deeply in a route, the Capturing God Katsuragi Keima leaned forward in his seat, bringing his face close to the screen as he repeatedly tapped his mouse. A fearsome fire glittered in Keima's eyes as he concentrated on the audacious CGs that flashed before his eyes.

Behind the erstwhile gamer, a sinister red circle slowly made itself manifest on the wooden surface of his floor. Runes glittered and danced across its surface as the purple haze it emanated intensified, until a blast of violet heralded the form of Hakua Helmium, who slowly and sinisterly ascended like the devil she was from the floor. She carried on one hand her weapon of office, on the other her skull ornament that usually perched on top of her head. A rapidly beeping light could be seen within its eyesocket.

The she-devil glared with disdain and exasperation at her buddy, but as her eyes saw past his head and to the screen that he was so busy staring at, her ears turned a shade of tomato red and she quickly raised her scythe: and brought it down with all the feminine fury she could muster.

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And now I walk alone

I'm sad, but I don't let it show.

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"Foolish mortal commoner," Hakua spat as she towered over the prone form of a bruised Keima. "Your contract awaits fulfilling. Are you deliberately letting our heads roll?"

Keima rose with all the dignity a god could muster. He could endure a lot of things: extreme hunger, Physical Education sessions, or a very dirty room, but that did not include getting interrupted right as he was in the very climax of his game. His furious eyes saw the credits rolling on the screen, and they wandered down to the skip key that the she-devil's scythe had pressed on.

"Thanks for playing!" said the final words on the screen.

I missed the climax! How dare that devil deprive me of the climax! Now all the magic is lost!

". . ." Heat steamed between Keima's ears as his trembling arms sought to pull him up, and he prepared to unleash God's Wrath upon the impertinent she-devil who dared intrude upon his domain.

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I wake to the sound of creaking wood.

I bid good mornings to a thick slab.

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"KATSURAGI KEIMA! YOU WILL NOT DISRESPECT THIS HOUSEHOLD WITH YOUR SHAMEFUL HOBBY! I DID NOT RAISE YOU TO BE THAT WAY, YOUNG MAN!"

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But no, no goodbyes, not yet.

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One could see the dry tears that had settled on the Capturing God's cheeks as he morosely made his way to school, invisible she-devil in tow. Hakua was purposely avoiding looking at the commoner with a blushing, annoyed face; Keima just looked annoyed.

"A-anyway, it's your fault in the end," Hakua began, and Keima sighed as he turned his head to seemingly address thin air. "And in the end, your Hell organization owes me two PFPs, a computer screen, and one PP3. Don't worry, there's no interest."

"I told you I was sorry, right?" Hakua countered hotly. "I didn't know your mother would react that way." Though as a devil, she knew she would have to find a way to recompense the commoner, as stated in the contract. She wondered if he knew that part of the contract, too.

"Hakua." The two stopped before the gates that lead to Majima High. Countless students filed past them, some of them bumping straight into Keima's body without apologizing. Keima looked like he was debating whether or not to go to school. "For now, you must do your end of investigating. You must gather preliminary investigation on the target."

"Huh?" Hakua blurted out, her mind stuck on the revolting idea of apologizing to the commoner..

"Not 'huh?'. It should be 'Yes, then I shall see you later.' Honestly, a devil can't even follow a simple instruction?"

"Oh, so that's what you were talking about! Ahaha!~" Hakua rubbed her hands together when she finally realized what he meant. Her expression turned serious as she nodded afterwards, "Understood, I shall have them before your lunch period."

Unknown to the two, each was secretly glad that the other was taking this new assignment seriously. Hakua, most of all, was impressed again at the sudden change in the commoner's demeanor whenever something like this came up. Perhaps that would be a point to bring up later in her reports?

Keima continued, "The only thing I know about Aoyama is the name of the family, I hear it was some kind of prestigious family in Majima. Beyond that, I can only say that she had never been in my class to my knowledge. Because of that, I have almost no data on her, unlike Takahara from before." A high-class girl then. This will be tricky . . . He looked at Hakua's raiment, visible only to him. But then again . . .

He turned briskly, and to the outsider it seemed that he'd finally decided on entering school. "Alright then, let's meet again at lunch break. Same place, but signal if there're any 'strange' going on up there." He ran a hand across his chest. "Later."

"...uh, yeah, see you later," Hakua replied distractedly as she wondered at the commoner's crisp, business-like demeanor. After casting a last look at the commoner's receding back, she slowly floated up in the air and off in another direction.

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Anything else is admitting defeat.

He gave me one last gift.

Out of all the glitter and the dazzling dolls, this was the best.

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"Hey commoner," Hakua said, after standing in uncomfortable silence beside a pensive commoner. Keima had been concentrating on a slip of paper she'd given him upon their meetup at lunch. It contained all the information she could get on the Aoyama family, her target in particular. It displayed all pertinent data, arranged meticulously in a table she'd prepared in less than a quarter of an hour. "What are you thinking?"

"That at first glance, this seems to be more straightforward than I thought it would be." Keima handed the slip back to a dubious Hakua as he tapped the screen of his PFP absent-mindedly. "A common rule in bishoujo games: the rich, lady-type heroine involves a lot of tower-scaling within the route. Imagine, if you will, the story of Rapunzel, who waits high atop her locked, solitary tower. It is then the task of the protagonist to weather the seemingly impossible odds and rescue her, overcoming the differences in social standing (if there are any that exist, there are protagonists that start off rich) along the way.

"But this," he gestured offhandedly with his hands. "is an unusual, but not unheard-of case. The lady who secretly hides a fall in fortune: it must surely rankle her pride or at least dial down her personality by much. She will either be a humbled little maiden, or most other times she will be so proud you can almost feel the spikes preventing entry into herself. All that then, can be determined once I formally delve into the route." Keima sighed as he pulled out a piece of cloth to wipe his PFP.

"So you're saying this will be easier than last time?" Hakua asked doubtfully.

"Not exactly, but types like her are usually easy to figure out." He saw the she-devil cross her arms expectantly, goading him to answer with her doubting eyes. "That is to say . . . " He suddenly pointed a cloth-wrapped finger at Hakua, who recoiled in reaction, "Her type: purity encased in a tough exterior!" The she-devil arched an eyebrow.

"Outside, she may seem tough and are generally quite violent, and look down on people like they're peasants," Keima rattled off, "but inside, they are delicate, pure; waiting for the prince who shall coach her delicate feelings out. Yes, I'm sure of it!"

"But you've only seen her picture," Hakua pointed out, holding her raiment in front of her on which the target's face was displayed, "How can you be sure without-"

"Yes, I'm sure!" Keima cut in, fires blazing in his eyes. His face leaned close to Hakua's. "Cat-like eyes! Noble, light-hair color! Pigtails and a wide forehead! Might also be prone to moments of extreme violence! She's definitely probably maybe ninety-nine percent that type of girl!"

Whack!

" . . . if only she were only short it'd be a hundred percent . . . " The Capturing God slid gently down the fence he'd been slammed into. "Anyway, her type is easy to plan out for, if you just be as forward as you can- uggh!" Keima had rebounded, drawing his face close to Hakua's again, and it had earned him a knee to the groin.

"Keep. Your. Face. Out of. Mine's!" The she-devil gritted out as she beat on Keima with the handle of her scythe.

The Capturing God recovered fast. "I can go through with this in many ways, Hakua. I can be the peasant who captures the heart of a princess with his commoner charm. Or I can be the blunt knight, whose bumbling actions captivate her heart. I can be many things, Hakua, and with your help, I shall follow a route to capture that spirit."

"My help?" She coiled her fingers around her scythe tensely.

"I mean your magic. Since you claim to have an impressive repertoire of demonic magic, I intend to use it as much as possible to my advantage to capture Aoyama-san within a short span of time. Are you ready?"

"D-don't expect me to recreate reality for you, commoner! Even demons have rules to follow!"

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So I walk through life holding that gift aloft.

A torch against the unknown.

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Keeping a firm, straight face and a strong, proud back, as she had been taught long ago, Aoyama Mio walked swiftly towards the school gate, her high-heeled shoes making distinct clip-clops on the concrete. She kept her eyes focused before her, not moving left or right but straight forward.

Outside the gate, she waited, school bag in one hand and a package of buns in the other, her arms crossed and her eyes staring out coldly. It looked like she was waiting for someone.

Many minutes seemed to pass, as the crowd of students exiting Majima High all around her gradually thinned until she was left all alone standing in front of the gate, still waiting for something. None of them greeted her, she didn't allow herself her friends after that incident, and they all drifted away after some time.

A chill breeze wafted in behind her, making her twin ponytails sway like lonely banners in the wind.

She now tapped her foot impatiently, marking the ground with the blunt part of her shoes. Finally, her eyebrows twitching, she shouted into the empty air, "Morita! You useless servant!" Mio took a few deep breaths, before looking around quickly to see if anyone had heard. She frowned upon seeing none, and she sniffed audibly as she started walking. "Forcing me to walk home, no decency at all . . . "

After a few meters she stopped, looking around her in confusion, "Now which way was home again?"

An hour of aimless walking in the forest of steel and concrete later, and the little lady was now looking worriedly at the lengthening shadows the people cast behind them. Despite this, she clutched her packages close to her chest, refusing to look in any way scared or lost. Her cold face was set like a porcelain doll's, never turning from a cold expression.

She turned another corner, hoping to at least see a familiar landmark, but then she bumped straight into someone. It was strong enough for her to stumble back, but she forced herself not to fall, dragging her feet painfully on the ground. She scrunched her eyes and cried, "Fool, watch where you're going!" She was prepared to give a stern reprimand, and saw it as a way to let her frustrations out.

The lady student faltered when she saw the group, and the woman whom she'd bumped into. They were clad in black tuxedos, with black eyeglasses that implied they were bodyguards of sorts. An elder lady stood in front of them all, looking stern and wearing a crisp corporate uniform and with hair tied up in a tight bun. Mio was now locked in a glaring match with the lady, but before long the latter relented and bowed apologetically, "I'm sorry, but please watch where you're going from here on. Also," the lady pushed a slip of paper from her hand onto Mio's face. It showed the close-up picture of a lean-faced boy who stared grimly at the camera through square-framed glasses. "Have you seen this person? He should be walking around in this city, and I was hoping you'd have seen his face somewhere. It would be a great help to us."

"No," she denied slowly after looking at the photo for a few moments, her gaze turning up to meet the lady's, who'd been watching her closely all that time. "I can't say that I have."

"That's too bad. But if you do find him, please contact the nearest man in a black suit as you can see. I've posted them all around the corners." The lady gestured to the trio of men behind her.

"I will try to accomodate you," Mio bowed formally, as should be done, "but as I'm about to go home, I'm not sure I can meet that man now."

"I understand." The lady turned and barked an order to the men behind her, who nodded and walked past Mio. "A pleasant day to you then," The lady greeted, before following the men.

Mio shrugged, and continued on her way.

She found her way home eventually, though the stars had wheeled up in the sky then.

She tried to contact Morita on his cell, but the fool wasn't answering her call. Inside her room, Mio threw the phone down in anger, before sulking into her bed. All she'd eaten for dinner had been the days-old buns she'd been carrying all day.

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". . .so what was the point, then?"

"Wait and see."

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The next day, Mio absentmindedly munched on another couple of buns as she cycled through her cellphone's inbox. Most were from her mother, wishing her well, except for one, very important message at the bottom of the list. She sent another message to Morita, before huffing impatiently and preparing herself for school. She slammed the door of her room behind her.

During lunch, she made her way to the rooftop of the school, her mind adrift. When she discovered that it was too hot up there, she fumed in annoyance as she turned back to the stairs.

Classes went by in a flurry of after-images, and then it was the end of school again. Mio stared at the package of bread in her hand, both buns immaculately uneaten, before grunting and dropping it into the trash bin.

She knew the way to home now, but she didn't go straight there. She let her feet carry her back into the city.

She let her feet carry her straight into and bump into another person again. Again, she prepared all the righteous fury she could muster.

And again Mio froze when she saw who she'd bumped into.

Hooligans! The worst sort her father had warned her about! With their ill-dressed bodies, and unpleasant faces, and odor, and everything else that reeked of evil hooligans! She stood her ground, for she was an Aoyama.

"You lowborn beasts, please refrain from clogging up the streets with your filthiness!" she began, hoping to cow the beasts beneath the force of her power.

"What the fuck is this bitch saying, huh!~"

One of them sniggered. "Hey aniki, you think we can hit that bitch tonight?"

She felt their filthy eyes travel up and down her body, and she shivered in spite herself. "Get you gone, lowborn rascals!" A pain hit her chest, as she remembered all her father had told her about the malcontents of the world. Mio bit her lip to stop the tears from showing.

"Gangway!~" A crunching sound made her look up, and to her and the hooligans' surprise a plank of wood swept out and knocked the rascals all down to the ground. Mio stared in shock as the man who held the plank grinned at her goofily, before slamming the plank down and running toward her.

"Come lady, let us depart!" He grabbed her arm, and too quick for her to react, started running, dragging her along. Behind her, she heard the hooligans' angered shouts.

"I . . . have never . . . ran that long . . . before . . . hah . . . " Mio took in deep breaths as she placed her hand on her chest.

"Yes, I . . . know what . . . you mean . . . " the man wheezed out, his hands on his knees.

For the first time since she'd been dragged off, Mio took a good look at her savior. She was then surprised to see that he looked exactly like the man she'd been shown a photo of before. "Um . . . " she began, not knowing how to proceed in this case.

"No need to fear, fair lady!" She saw the sweat dribble off his glasses. "Simply all in a day's work for a lord, I say!" He grinned and pulled a thumbs-up. The man coughed and rotated his arms in his sockets. "Still, that plank was certainly heavy, though as I was in a bit of a rush then, I had no choice. Personally, I'd have preferred a hot-blooded moment of fist-cuffs, but I saw no reason to endanger you further."

"Wh- who are you?" She'd finally regained her normal rate of breathing, and she now stood proud, arms akimbo and returning to her stern expression. She decided it would be good ot show a bit of caution in dealing with this apparently wanted man.

"Katsuragi Keima, at your service," the man swept off an imaginary hat off his head and bowed courteously. "A youth of wit, and grit and keen eyes! A pleasure to meet-" He reached for her hand, before she slapped it away in both fear and anger. The man blinked, before recovering quickly and smiling, "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, dear lady."

"Katsuragi . . . " she repeated slowly, mulling over the name in her head and finding nothing. She kept her face neutral as she bowed, giving her required thanks. "I thank you for your timely intervention, but as I have other matters to attend to-" Liar! "I shall now take my leave." She turned to walk back to the street, weighing her options.

Keima dashed in front of her, still that strange, ever-present smile on his face. "Then allow me the pleasure of escorting you to where you want to go, unknown lady. We shan't have you getting into trouble a second time!"

"N-n-no really, I'm fine-!" she insisted, even as they spent the next few seconds having a fencing match with their hands. Keima then stood, tilting his head quizzically as Mio briskly brushed against him in her haste, "What a stubborn, pretty lady."

She froze in her feet at that, that audacious declaration from a near-stranger, but as she turned to shout at him for the last time, she felt his hands on her shoulders as he pushed her out of the alley, and further down the street.

"Let me go! What are you-" This is not p-proper!

"Now now, ma'am, this is not the time to refuse help when it's freely offered. I shall escort you to your destination with utmost haste! And uh- where was your destination again?"

Whack!

"Y-y-you have some nerve . . . "Mio fumed, her fists clenched. " . . . T-to lay your filthy h-hands on th-this . . . " She clenched her eyes, demanding her heart be still; herself to cool down. She was finding it hard to maintain the Aoyama grace.

"Dear ma'am, you have a stronger right hand than it seemed," Keima told her, his hands rubbing the place where he'd been hit.

"D-don't ever come near me again!" she shouted as she turned on her feet, and fell, unbalanced by her shoes. The falling sensation lasted for but a second, before she felt a warm hand on her back, and another grasping her outstretched hand.

" . . . careful, my lady . . . " Keima mumbled, a look of genuine concern passing over his face. Then she realized his face was too close.

Whack!

"A lord like you should know better than to get within a lady's private space!"

"I apologize for that, and well-" Keima started rubbing the back of his head awkwardly.

"Let's go."

"Uh, what?-" He gaped.

"Weren't. You going. To escort me?" She stabbed her finger into the air at him. "Hmph, well I don't care either way." Mio started marching down the street.

"Oh, please wait, lady!~~"

It was less than an hour later that Mio realized she was lost again, and she took it out on Katsuragi. He offered to buy some refreshments, but she turned him down with all the force she could muster.

"Merely for your thirst ma'am, for I am concerned-"

"I-I told you I didn't need it, idiot!"

A short time afterwards, they were standing in front of her family mansion. Keima spent some time gazing up at it in curiosity, before he was shooed off by an impatient little lady.

Mio watched him go with haggard eyes, and when she was sure he'd turned a far corner and left, she walked straight past the gates where she'd used to enter and headed straight home.

The first thing she did upon setting foot in her room was to drink a whole bottle of water from the fridge.

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"Quite the convincing display, though I don't see the point."

"You haven't seen the rest yet."

". . . So there are no doubts?"

"Oh I still have doubts . . . ultimately the rest might just rely on her."

Whack!

"I expect 'Yes' or 'No'! You can't afford to be vague!"

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Mio dreamed of a silver-bound knight, escorting her through windswept fields. She tried to see his face, but then found herself falling into a darkness – an ominous sensation that woke her up. She stared with misted eyes at the cheap fluorescent lamp overhead, and frowned.

Again, she tried contacting Morita, anyone; but all she got was cold silence. Mio stared at her hands, before finally deciding.

That afternoon, she purposefully got herself lost again, and was not disappointed to meet that audacious youth.

"Ah, it's good to see you again ma'am!" Katsuragi bowed perfunctorily.

She ignored him, turning her gaze here and there, searching for something. Yet again, she allowed herself to be "escorted" cheerfully by the stranger.

"What can you tell me about yourself – Katsuragi?" She worded her question carefully, as her father might have done when interviewing a potential employee. They both sat on a secluded area of the park, her sipping on a sweet cream shake and him licking on a pink-flavored icecream cone. "For example, where do you come from?"

"Oh, somewhere out there," he said flippantly. He pointed in the direction of Majima. "Somewhere . . . east, I reckon. Might need a little flight to make it quicker."

"Flight?"

"Oh, you know, flying on a jet. If I still had mine- well, let's just say I'd have found it easier to go back home, before."

Mio challenged him, "Oh, so you can fly planes then? How on earth did you manage that at your age?"

"Please, dear lady, you speak to Katsuragi Keima, one who cannot be denied everything! When there is a challenge in front of me, I tackle it, when there is an obstacle, I destroy it! If they'd had their way, I'd probably be flying a space shuttle by now!" He chuckled loudly, shaking his head ruefully. "Not that it would've been possible- before. . . ."

Then he deliberately turned back the conversation to herself; and she closed up, heading back home before the day could end.

The next day, he'd ambushed her from inside a suspicious-looking, beat-up car. She screamed obscenities she never knew existed in her mind all throughout the "ride", while the idiot just laughed lightheartedly.

He'd barreled them up some decrepit temple stairs; and when the engine stalled, she escaped, stumbling, dizzy, to a perch overlooking Majima. Katsuragi followed, panting, and she yelled at him some more for good measure, before settling down to catch her labored breaths.

"Terribly sorry . . . I wasn't used to outdated stick-shifts . . . Probably why they just left it there. . . I'm sure the old owners got fed up with it too. . . "

"From where did you get that hideous beast?"

"Just found it in that junkyard in the city. Convinced the owner I could make it run again, for a bet. He was a good sport." He smiled, showing off that confident superiority she found herself hating.

"I have never had someone driving a car like that before . . . Morita was leagues ahead of you in control." Her eyes widened.

"Morita? Who's he?"

"M-my. . ." she stuttered, cursing her slip-up. "-my old driver."

"Oh. Oh~~ Dear lady, does that mean you used to be driven to school before?"

"Y-yes, what of it?" she replied defensively.

"Oh nothing really. Why isn't Morita driving you home now? I'd imagine-"

"Don't get that stupid idea! That stupid idiot's just being a truant good-for-nothing who can't even get his job right! We, the Aoyamas are still a family in high standing, and we will always be! I'll make sure of it, and I don't need that Morita's help, or anyone's help! Daddy's legacy belongs to me! It's mine!" she shouted, before again faltering when she realized with horror what she'd just blurted.

Her face burned when she saw the shocked look on Katsuragi's face, and then she buried her face into her head and let loose a piterous howl behind clenched mouth. How disgraceful of me!

None of them said anything more after that, as he drove them back to the city – slowly this time.

She didn't look back as she rushed down the street, didn't look left nor right as she shut her door behind her and buried herself into her sheets. That was the longest she'd spent crying ever since his funeral.

"See you later then . . . Aoyama-san."

She ceased crying for a second, her tears streaming hot down her blonde hair when she realized he'd just called her like that.

The next day was a Saturday, and she left school early. She found him resting on the same bench they'd sat in, tracing circles on the dirt.

"Hey you," she kicked his shin hard. "Go get me something to drink."

"So what are you going to do about it?" Katsuragi asked her bluntly, after basking in the afterglow of another near-escape from a bunch of hooligans.

"It's none of your business. And stop speaking to me so familiarly; I never gave you permission Katsuragi." She kicked him again.

She gazed with hard, cold eyes at him, as he too stared unabashedly at her, uncertainty explicit behind those glasses. Again, she felt her face heat up when he stroked a stray lock of hair from her face with his finger.

"I apologize, it's just that . . ." he looked away, "I just can't bear to see your beautiful face become lined with worry. I find it . . . unacceptable."

"Your concern is unsolicited," she scoffed. She almost shrieked in outrage, again, when his hand came down on her head, and started patting.

"Dont. Treat me like a child!" She waved her hands, trying to get at him, while he kept her at arms' length. How dare he- how dare he? Presently, he squashed his hand into her head, and she stopped, her face suddenly downcast.

"It's just that . . . I've never had anyone . . . p-pat me like that s-since . . ." A lump formed in her throat as her vision blurred around the edges. She did the only thing left to her then, even if she did dislike doing it.

Mio grabbed his shirt, and cried.

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" . . . undestand what's taking so long . . ."

". . . From what little I undestood, devil, it seems to be better to ensure the gap doesn't resurface. That's part of what I'm aiming for here."

". . . Whatever, at least the spirit doesn't seem to have gained power much. . . "

"Oh joy, the enemy hasn't leveled up yet . . . the good news for me then is - that's not my part anymore! So do your job, Hakua!"

Whack!

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"Hey, hey have you heard the new rumors?"

"What? Tell me!"

"Well, it looks like Aoyama-san has a boyfriend now, and it seems to be a foreigner!"

"That Aoyama-san? But I heard her family's-"

"You think she's-"

"Whoaa, you're thinking too much-"

Mio stood at the street corner, her two hands holding a pair of frosty shakes that she'd actually taken the route of buying. She stared, dumbfounded, at Katsuragi's retreating back, after the boy had just up and ran off all of a sudden. A few moments later, she had her answer when dark-suited men rushed past her, heading in the same direction as her knight's.

Across the street, her gaze met with the woman's she'd encountered before, and unmistakably she felt a chilling force sweep through her back. The lady's eyes were narrowed, and Mio tried her best to look resolutely back without failing.

"Aoyama Mio. Last scion of the Aoyama Clan. A current of student of Majima School, one of the worst educational institutions in the entire country. Might I inquire as to your relationship with young master?" The lady peered down at her severely, as if she was scrutinizing a bug. Thankfully, Mio stood resolute.

"Katsuragi is my temporary servant, and companion in distress, duress and idles," Mio replied haughtily. In truth, to her, he was more than that, but she would never admit it out loud (even to herself). "I fail to see how it is any business of yours how I conduct my affairs."

"'Katsuragi' . . ? You dare use the honored family's name so flippantly? If we weren't in a public place I would flog you for your impudence, brat! In fact, I should do just that!" The woman's eyes blazed.

Mio knew all about Katsuragi; he had related to her his circumstances as she related to him hers. It was one of the many topics of conversations she'd had with him on their nightly strolls through the Majima countryside.

She knew of his status as a fallen lord; disowned by his family and relatively penniless, the same way as her. She . . . "admired" the way he was able to adjust to his condition, how bold and mature he seemed as he faced his challenges head-on. It was quite different from how she was currently managing hers, even.

"Listen, girl. Now that we've finally tracked the young master here, I've no qualms of doing anything with the family's resources to drag him back to his rightful place as the successor of the Katsuragi! And that means I shall not have you using your female guiles to ensnare him."

"How unsightly of you people. You were the ones who disowned your supposed heir in the first place, and now you wish to drag him back against his will? Forgive me if it's not my business, but how impudent are you people?" She raised the shakes in front of her like makeshift weapons. All Katsuragi's promises of preserving her honor and dignity, and here she was doing the same for him. The idiot should be grateful for this!

The lady, to her surprise, grinned and let off a mirthless chuckle that rang clear in the cold afternoon. "Ah, as expected of the young master. I apologize, it seems that he has caught you with his charms. Such a silver tongue . . . Excellent! He shall not want for finding prospective mates in the future, then. . ." the woman trailed off, staring with a sort of embarrassed pity at Mio.

"What on earth are you rambling on about now?" she demanded.

"Well, as you can't possibly shoot the messenger in your condition, I shall provide the answer for you. No doubt the young master has led you to believe that he was the black sheep of the family, that he has been. . . disowned by circumstance from the family, making him deal with his life in such an admirable manner . . . The truth is, poor girl, that the young master, brat that he is, had irresponsibly left his duties to the family as the heir and gone truant, leaving his poor family to pursue him despite his blatant disrespect. You see now: the image has been reversed, the poor disowned heir has become the spoiled little lord who gives priority to his desires than his duties." Again, she laughed.

Mio trembled where she stood, the words striking deep and hard into her core. Everything had been a lie? Has she just fallen into that man's trap, after all? Unbidden, her golden image of Katsuragi Keima, her self-proclaimed knight, cracked and frayed.

The lady left, bidding a scornful goodbye, and Mio was left holding the melting shakes in her limp hands. The liquid flowed down her fingers, staining the ground below, together with the tears that flowed.

No, this was no cry of relief. This was a cry of betrayal.

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". . . what I dont's undestand is how flawlessly you slipped into the role. You have many facets to yourself, commoner. Shall I see you parading in a woman's dress next?"

"Shut up. I only took on the role of the side-antagonist, and it takes any amateur to fill that role.

"The role of the side-antagonist is primarily the barrier that separates the protagonist and the girl towards the end of the route, but is not really the conflict in her route.

"He or she may not even be adversarial, but by dint of their words, they will drive a wedge into the relationship that has been established."

"So you're able to take on that role because of your games."

"Naturally. I've seen them crop up too much that I've no choice but to memorize their choice and manner of speech. So many personalities to adopt, yet they're all the same in the end – the jealous best friend, the lady's disapproving father, the scheming love rival – all united with the same purpose. That's why I can mimic them with little deviation.

"As God, I have no limits."

"I understand . . . though, you may want me to get that costume off of you now. Y'know, before you grow into that permanently. It happens, sometimes."

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"You shameless perjurer! Deceiver! Good-for-nothing liar! Liar, liar!"

"If you'd just allow me to explain, Aoyama-san-"

"No, I won't allow it! You're just going to give me more lies again, as you've done before. I won't have it! I'd rather you be quiet-" she sobbed, bits and tufts of grass falling from her clamped hands. All was still in the evening time, and Mio had confronted Katsuragi the Liar with all the force an angry Aoyama must have.

"How could you- how could I? To be taken in by a brute like you- How dare you deceive an Aoyama like this! You must have had a motive in pulling me in, perhaps to use me in your schemes? Maybe I should have followed through on my initial intention to turn you in! You've been nothing but- but trouble for me since the day I met you Katsuragi!"

"My lady, I-"

"And I spent all that time listening to you, admiring you, wishing that I had the strength to be like you, or to have the courage, or your cunning; but contenting myself to be served by you, to have you by my side, knowing you would do me no harm, that you would be my-" she started throwing grass again, but not at him. "- yet in the end . . . nothing but a liar, all those flowered words you said, you snake! Did you even enjoy doing all those things for me? Did you even enjoy being with me? Were your promises to me nothing but honeyed deceptions after all?"

Keima moved to envelop her in his hands, but she recoiled, baring her fists. "Don't touch me, you liar! This will be the last time I shall ever talk to you! Starting tomorrow, I shall begin making my own path as an Aoyama, and I won't let anything distract me again! I will be a proud Aoyama, as Daddy-"

They both stiffened, that word being a sensitive one between the two of them; who'd shared secrets in this very spot. Mio averted her face from his, eyes burning with the sting of betrayal, showing many things that she felt at that moment.

"Aoyama-san," he whispered softly, letting his voice carry through the light breeze. "I am truly, truly sorry for- well, no words of mine can explain for-" he bit his lip. He staggered over to the nearby tree, running his fingers across its coarse, aged trunk. "I'm sorry I hurt you with my lies, but please know that- that-" Katsuragi grunted painfully. "-my feelings for you . . . were genuine. I was truly, honestly happy to have spent my time with you, Aoyama-san. My days before were spent in dread for my determined future, when I would long to be free of this guilded cage. And then when I got out, for the first time in my life, I had no purpose. But then the days after I met you came. For the first time again, I saw a way out. I saw hope. Those days I would wake up, and await the afternoon, when I knew you'd be free, when I could have the chance of showing you a lot of new things, and I would learn from you. For me, you are-"

"Please stop."

Mio set her mouth in a determined little line. "I- you- we have our responsibilites from now on. Those days have ended. You must not shirk your duties to your family. And I have mine to fulfill as well."

She turned, and now their backs faced each other. This was their spot, where they enjoyed viewing the city and talking about nothings, yet now here they faced away from each other like strangers. A colder, stronger night wind blew between them.

"Aoyama-san."

"Goodbye, Katsuragi. For a moment, you were my silver knight. I thank you for reminding me of the legacy Daddy has left me." She said in a clear voice, free of any previous emotion it had.

Aoyama Mio left that place in a trot, leaving him as well.

Unerringly, she homed in on her residence, passing by the rusted, ironbound gates to the former Aoyama mansion. Inside, she spotted the cellphone by her bed, and she moved to grasp it, but she stopped when she saw the silly cards that Katsuragi had bought her as a prank, in what seemed like a long time ago. Then she trailed her gaze to the hidden altar to the side, and her head bowed sadly. She looked all around he apartment, from the spoiled, uneaten buns on the corner, to the small, dirty bed at the center. Her eyes went back to the cards.

Mio turned the light switch off.

Back at their secret place, the Capturing God stared out across night-time Majima with a brooding look. His hands were poised to start up the PFP that they held, as if their owner was debating to turn it on or not. Eventually, he did, and with it came the simultaneous, telltale sound of otherworldly Hell-magic behind him.

"Whew! You know commoner, I've never expected to use so much of my magical repertoire in my stay on this realm, but ever since I've been partnered with you, you've proven me wrong!" Hakua raised her arms in the air. "For here I am, performing illusionary spells and conjuring up as many images as I can, and overusing my invisibility cantrips, and-" Hakua stopped in the middle of her rant, looking suspiciously at the Capturing God. "Hey commoner, are you listening? Are you still being – what's the term – 'in-character'?"

"No, devil, all I heard was a distinct keening sound passing into my ear and going out the other. Eeeee~" Keima made a cutting motion with his free hand. "And no, I'm perfectly a Divine One now." The Capturing God looked down at his PFP, ignoring the continuing outraged rants by the she-devil, and breathed out softly. "Now for the end-game event. My die will be cast tomorrow."

Whack!

"Listen to me when I'm talking to you, commoner! You are dealing with a devil here!"

"Ah, but I am a God. A God who can die, incidentally, because of a grievous error made by a low-ranking devil-"

"Low ranking? Did I not mention District Chief status, commoner bug?" Hakua drew herself up. "No low-ranking magic would have served you in this deception of yours, so I suggest you apologize on the ground before I unleash it on you."

"Unfortunately, as you well know, I am in somewhat of a tight schedule. I shall still need to use your magics some more to achieve the climax." Keima placed a hand on his chest. "And then, the epilogue, and after the credits!" He loudly proclaimed. "The ending is quite clear: I can see it. But then again," he continued, and this time he looked straight into Hakua's face. "I couldn't have done this without you, Hakua." Static crackled around her scythe as Hakua felt her face redden. "For that, I am eternally grateful." Keima smiled radiantly at her.

Whump!

"Y-y-you . . ." The she-devil took in great, deep breaths. "Don't you dare use your perverted mimicry on me! Do you want me to demolish your house again?"

"Hmm, about that . . . " There was a crackling sound as Keima turned from where his face had been smashed into a tree trunk as he looked back at Hakua. "Did you get in trouble with your superiors for your little incident? You did end up demolishing our neighbor's house. You should've seen the looks on their faces when they showed up at the cafe."

"Hmph! A Devil, no rather, a District Chief such as I is allowed certain privileges concerning the magics. So long as we do not directly and maliciously target humans, Heaven won't take notice." Hakua crossed her arms and nodded as if assuring herself of that fact.

"Hmm~" Keima considered what she'd said.

"Why'd you end up asking about that anyway?"

"Oh, no reason. No major reason at all." Keima had started playing another new release. He was hideously behind on many games, and he was even considering marathon night sessions to keep up.

"I thought you'd say you were concerned or something, but I guess it's too much to hope for," Hakua stopped herself. It wasn't like she wanted him to be concerned or anything! She shook her head from side to side. All this work was probably taking their toll. That's right, that's probably it. And she knew who to blame for that.

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"Nii-sama, what's taking so long . . . "

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She had a lot of things on her mind. She really needed to talk to her mother. She knew her mother was busy.

But she needed someone to talk to. Morita was out, the fool had never once answered her calls. Katsuragi-

No! Don't think about Katsuragi!

Right. Eyes front, seek out the goal. Be an Aoyama, as her Father taught her. She knew what to do – she had to find a way to retake her family's standing.

But how? He had died too early to teach her the more complex parts of the family business. The most important thing he'd left her was a commission, and an exhortation – to be a proud Aoyama to the end.

What if she were to negotiate with the woman- No! Don't think about the liar!

She made her way to the library, using the singular skills of the queer little librarian there to gather all the books on money-making.

"Er . . . um . . . money-making's such a b-broad subject . . . b-but I'll do my best . . . "

All 1,902 books on the subject had been gathered in front of her, carried by two carts. Mio stared from the pile of books to the girl, and then back at the pile. Her knees stumbled from under her.

As she sat morosely at her desk, she caught the image of that popular idol, Nakagawa-san, on the cover of a periodical her classmate had brought. Could she possibly use that-

"Ah~ I have no patience for those kinds of things. I'm sorry, but it just feels as if you're marketing your body-" NO! Get out of my head, Katsuragi!

Aoyama Mio stared at her palms, and discovered that her hands were empty.

Whoosh!

"Gyaow!" Mio was knocked aside by a force like that of a speeding bullet. With a resounding thud, the object smashed into the pillar behind her.

"H-hey, sorry are you okay?" The missile girl helped a dazed Mio to her feet. The stranger noticed Mio's expression. "Hey, are you really okay? Do you need to go to the infirmary-?"

Mio knocked aside the girl's hands with a suppressed outburst as she turned to run, run as far away as possible.

"Useless Morita, useless!" She threw the offending cellphone into the sewer grate. She couldn't rely on anyone else after all.

Don't cry, don't break down. Rememberwhatdaddysaid. "Be strong and proud, Mio. For one day-"

One day what? One day-

" . . . one day I hope to settle down in a quiet town, and find a steady job. A simple job, where I can live out the rest of my lives comfortably-"

A flash, She'd been angry.

"Such low aspirations! You don't ever want to be great?"

"I require nothing more," he'd shrugged. "- well, besides you Aoyama-san."

Mio stared at her hands once more. She found them- holding something?

She blinked. There, in her hand, was a certain ceremonial ornament, shaped like a flower of some sort. She'd only ever seen that design once-

Katsuragi?

Mio could hear cries nearby. It sounded like a scuffle of sorts. She rose, and followed the noise to its source.

There, on their favorite meeting spot, was Katsuragi, on the ground, with many bruises on his face. Arrayed all around him were the black-suited men from before, and they all took turns using their feet to beat on her fallen knight.

Katsuragi!

She shut her eyes. How could this be happening, right here in front of her? She'd figured Katsuragi had left, discouraged from her rejection of him a few days past. Of course, she knew him to be a stubbornly persistent man, but hadn't she made her wishes clear?

Didn't he have responsibilites of his own to fulfill?

"And what responsibilites might those be again, Aoyama-san?"

The pleasant smell of sunburnt grass all around as she shifted her knees on top of the handkerchief he had laid out on the ground.

"Why, to fulfill my proud duties as an Aoyama, of course! He would not have had it any other way!"

"Hmm~ But, are you sure- and forgive me if I might seem offensive – but are you sure that's what he really intended for you?"

"Don't be foolish-"

"Bear with me for a moment. Aren't you taking your duties far enough? Wouldn't he have been happy for you to spend a meaningful life instead?"

"Such idiotic notions-"

"-don't push them on me!" Katsuragi screamed from beneath the pile. Mio jumped from her hiding place at his sudden declaration.

That foolish knight of hers . . . he looked so much in pain . . .