Hello again!

So, after careful consideration, I have decided to carry on with this story. Mind you, progress will be slow, and updates will likely be spread out unevenly over time. I'm having to do all this by myself, and I want to make sure I get it right. I simply ask for your patience with me.

To all the readers that have favorited, followed, or brought encouragement and support on the pilot chapter, thank you so much!

To the guest that asked your questions; I really wish I could've personally replied to your review in a PM. Now that I'm going to be taking this story further, I don't want to give too much information and spoil the setting too quickly. I'm trying to pace myself with this whole project.

Also, each previous chapter will be updated and edited as needed when a new chapter is posted.

Disclaimer: I do not own High School DxD, nor do I own Type Moon or any of its intellectual properties.

Published: October 23, 2020

Updated: April 1, 2022

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Chapter 2 – Consequences

…

…

…

*BEEP BEEP BEEP*

Connor was wrested from blissful slumber by his accursed phone alarm from across the room. With restrained fury and body aches everywhere, he forced himself out of bed to turn off the alarm and give his ears a moment of peace.

5:45 A.M…

Two hours of sleep was NOT ENOUGH!

Fighting off the temptation to throw his phone at the wall then throw himself back into bed, he gathered enough coherent thought to remember why he was so upset this early in the morning.

Last night had to be one of the worst in his entire life. He had happened upon a crime scene of supernatural origin, fought for his life against a Fallen Angel, killed said Fallen, and now had to contend with the looming threat the bluenette Fallen had delivered before leaving. It was only after he got home that the shock of having actually killed someone and the stress of everything else came crashing down all at once, sending him into a cold sweat and a vomiting fit. He couldn't leave the toilet for another half hour.

The shower he took after ridding his stomach's contents cleaned off his body, but did little to ease his addled mind. Drawing himself a bath and just sitting in the warm water proved to be effective once he was certain he wouldn't be stewing in blood and dirt. He spent almost an hour in the tub, letting the encompassing warmth provide a comfort that he hadn't experienced in years, giving himself time to think calmly about his current situation and drum up a plan. By the third time he had almost nodded off in the bathwater, however, he figured it was time to get out and get busy.

The plan he had come up with was simple: bunker down. He had no idea if the three females were the only ones, or if there were others lying in wait. They also knew his face, so they would be able to pick him out easily. Defense was his only real option.

The Fallen's mention of "not tonight" had been his only hint of reprieve, so he had to prepare while he could. The rest of the night, well past two 'o clock in the morning, was spent drawing up security measures: Reinforcing every wall plus the floor and ceiling of his apartment, magic sensor runes at the front door and around the balcony, and he would have to finish the Bounded Field set around the whole complex later in the week. By the time he had finished what he could, his home was more secure from outside attack than a one-bedroom apartment had any right to be.

Sifting through his grandfather's notebook had yielded some interesting finds that, prior to last night, he had been hesitant to try. Now, however, there was no more room for timidity. The biggest problem was that most of the contents inside were never tested: complex runic sequences, Mystic Code formulae, thaumaturgical theories, and even experimental summoning diagrams were all left to gather dust after his grandfather suffered a massive stroke at age sixty-eight. Either that, or he just wrote down the results of his work somewhere else upon testing them years ago. It didn't make sense why that would be the case, but a lot of what Donovan Lochlainn did in his later years made him difficult to understand.

The strengthening runes Connor had used against Dohnaseek were something his father, Kellen, had insisted on applying before he went overseas. They acted as a double shot of adrenaline to the muscles in his arms and chest, making them very effective in a pinch. The big drawback, however, was that they were magical energy guzzlers that left his whole upper body aching from the strain of overuse.

That was where the new series of runes he placed on himself would come in. In addition to inscribing smaller rune sequences and strengthening certain specific areas of his body for short bursts only, there were others that would bolster his body's overall performance a little bit at a time by providing a form of resistance and making the body work harder to move. These required magical energy as well, though not as much as his father's runes, and the consumption rate would be spread out over the course of hours. His use of the runic sword would especially benefit from this improvised system.

Like many of Donovan's projects and experiments, Connor didn't know if his grandfather had actually finished the runic sword he created. The man had simply bound it to the Lochlainn Magic Crest shortly after its transplant onto Connor, didn't say a word about it other than how to summon it, and then died from his stroke not even a month later. Connor found the weapon to be clumsy and top-heavy, but it was his grandfather's last gift to him, so he'd be caught dead before letting it waste away. It took years for he and his father to come up with a suitable fighting form, which would eventually become what Connor used in the fight.

As far as any clothing went, the runes he had already placed on them kept his magical energy output camouflaged against his surroundings, but for some reason didn't hold up against attack. Unless Dohnaseek's light spears had a means of piercing or negating magic-based defenses, the runes should have also made his clothes function like chain mail. And yet, they didn't. The fabric was cleanly cut; no snags or rips, just a single slice. As such, he'd have to dig through the notes again to figure out where he went wrong in reinforcing his clothing and start from scratch. He could feel the encroaching headache just thinking about it.

At around 4:00 in the morning, he was finally ready to call it quits.

Within seconds of his head touching the pillow, he was sound asleep.

But now, morning had come, and with it, a reminder that the word 'hell' starts with an 'M' and ends with a 'Y'.

Begrudgingly, he trudged to the bathroom to start cleaning and freshening up. A splash of cold water to the face jolted him awake and allowed his eyes a good look at himself.

If the state of his face was anything to go by, he both looked and felt like crap. He looked like he hadn't slept in several days as opposed to one night. His left cheek where Dohnaseek had struck him with the blunt end of his spear was still slightly swollen, partially forcing his left eye shut, and the color was already shifting from an angry red to a grisly purple.

"One thing after another," he mumbled.

As it stood, the bruise would draw attention that he just couldn't prevent. At the very least, though, he could cover it to keep from making every passerby wretch in disgust. Fishing around in the medicine cabinet, he found a roll of medical tape and some gauze. He cut the tape into strips, then set the gauze over the most discolored area and applied the strips across it. It would do nothing to protect against another hit to that area, but that was fine. He didn't plan on touching it anytime soon anyway.

He still looked like crap, but he would be passable in public now.

Checking the clock on the kitchen wall, he noted that there was still plenty of time to wrap up his morning routine and head for the academy with a few minutes to spare. A simple breakfast of scrambled eggs and leftover genmai, then quickly suiting up in the school uniform and packing his lunch. On his way out the door, he made sure to take an assortment of runestones as well as a few mana storage gems from the end table at his bedside. He refused to be caught off guard like last night again. (1)

The walk to the academy was uneventful, which gave him time to think about how this whole ordeal would play out. Doubtless, people were going to stare. It's not every day you see someone with a patch over his face, partially covering one eye. For the next two weeks or so, though, he'd just have to deal with it.

Had he been paying attention to anything but directly in front of him, Connor would have noticed the pair of grey eyes casting a curious gaze his way from a nearby street vendor.

Kuoh Academy's old schoolhouse, a two-story wooden building with a third-story clock tower and seemingly overtaken by trees and vines, stood as a stark contrast to its newer, more lavish counterpart. If one were to venture inside, however, they would find that the interior of the building was surprisingly well-maintained. Refurbished wooden walls and paneling, fully restored meeting and guest rooms, and atmospheric lighting arrangement gave the impression that the building was never truly forgotten. How fitting, then, that the abandoned dormitory was considered the home and base of operation for its full-time inhabitants of the Occult Research Club.

Rias Gremory, club president of the ORC and heiress to the Gremory household, sat at her desk in the main meeting room, deep in thought about recent events.

She liked to consider herself a reasonable Devil. Not like the ones from the days of old whose cruelty and intolerance drove her brother and his allies in the New Satan Faction to remove them from power in the Underworld. With the Four Satans in charge and keeping the peace, the Devils had a chance at saving themselves from extinction through Lord Beelzebub's Evil Piece system.

There were rules in place for the use of Evil Pieces –written, unspoken or otherwise self-imposed– but there was also room to abuse the system as well. Forcible reincarnation often led to servants rebelling and turning Stray, something the Gremory fought tooth and nail to prevent happening for its entire history. Yet, despite her confidence in Issei Hyoudou's ultimate choice, given his personality, she found herself dreading the upcoming conversation regarding his new life.

She tapped her finger against the desk as she thought back to last night's discussion.

–––––

Her plan hadn't turned out the way she wanted.

Rias had just finished healing the fatal wound on her new Pawn, Issei Hyoudou, and was gathering up her belongings to head back to the club room. The circumstances behind his reincarnation were horrible; he'd been outright assassinated by his supposed date, and unknowingly summoned her with his last conscious thought. She would have preferred that he join her peerage of his own free will. This situation reminded her too much of what had happened with her other servants: near death and desperate for somebody –anybody– to save them.

She didn't hesitate to use her remaining Evil Pieces to reincarnate him. It was her fault that he died, so she owed him that much. To her surprise, however, it ended up requiring all 8 of her pawn pieces for the ritual to take effect. Whatever his Sacred Gear was, it had to be enormously powerful. She couldn't deny that underlying sense of giddiness at the prospect of having a powerful new member of her little family.

While she had gotten a new servant, however, she now had another issue to consider. Connor, the exchange student that had become something of a minor celebrity at school, was engaged in battle with a Fallen Angel, and was apparently adept in magic. In the time she had stayed to watched the fight, it looked like Connor even had the upper hand. Upon reincarnating Issei, she had contacted Akeno and ordered her to see out the remainder of the fight, then report back at the club room.

As she activated the Gremory family circle to begin her transit, her mind was still ablaze with questions. How much did Connor know about the supernatural? What kind of a sword was that? Why were the other Fallen just staying back? What else was he hiding?

Rias emerged from the teleportation circle moments later in the corner of the club room, finding Akeno seated comfortably on one of the two Victorian-style couches in the center. For as calm as the Queen appeared, it must mean good news. Her Rook, Koneko Toujou, sat opposite to her on the other couch, chowing down on a bag of sweets in her hands.

"Well, Akeno? What did you find?"

"Ara ara~ Cut right to the chase, Buchou. Not even going to ask if I'm alright? Or tell me about Issei-kun?"

"I know you well enough to know you would be fine, Akeno. And Issei-kun will be fine, too. He's settled in for the night, and I'm going to give him time to adjust to things as a Devil before bringing him here." The heiress took a seat at her desk while Akeno watched with a calculating eye.

She had mixed feelings about Rias' plan. On one hand, she trusted Rias with her life and knew that she never meant for harm to befall Issei. On the other, she didn't like how much room for error there was with baiting the Fallen this way. Her fear that her adorable kouhai could be hurt or killed had come to fruition, and she felt more than a little guilty for not doing more to prevent it.

"Just as well, I only arrived at the scene just as the Fallen were leaving, anyway."

"Then, Connor survived?" Hearing this made Koneko stop eating and look to Rias in veiled surprise.

"Yes, he did. Not only did he survive, he patched himself up with magic once the Fallen were out of sight." Akeno noticed Rias straighten up in her seat and smiled. "I didn't realize Connor-kun was keeping such secrets, Buchou. Is that why you had Koneko-chan scout Issei-kun instead?"

"No, Sona would have taken offense if I kept tabs on Connor. She won't say it, but I know for sure that she was scouting him for her peerage. Now I know why." The exchange student was a magician, and Rias was slightly miffed at herself for not noticing sooner. He would have made for a fine Bishop.

"Buchou." Koneko called, grabbing her king's attention. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, didn't you know, Koneko-chan? Connor Lochlainn, your sempai from across the seas, is a magician." Akeno's lighthearted tone turned serious upon seeing Koneko's eyes widen slightly."You didn't know?"

Koneko just shook her head, astonished at her own lack of awareness. She was the one that had originally sensed the possible Sacred Gear within Issei, much to her disgust. And yet, she had never noticed that anything was unusual about the American exchange student. He felt just as normal as the people around him.

"Ara ara~"

"Akeno, how can you be so nonchalant about this? Even Koneko didn't notice?! He was here for two whole weeks!"

"But he didn't do anything, did he?" Akeno inquired, making Rias pause. "He could have done something to Sona's peerage, too, and yet everyone there is fine. Besides, there are plenty of people at Kuoh who have ties to the supernatural, and Sona would have told you if he was dangerous. Don't stress about it, Buchou."

Rias sighed and leaned back in her chair. Akeno had a point; maybe she was just overreacting. Even if Sona had called dibs on a potential peerage member, she would not have hesitated to alert her rival if she suspected a potential threat to the school or its students.

"Do you plan on recruiting him?"

Rias shook her head."He's on more friendly terms with some of the Student Council. If anything, he'll likely be more partial to an offer from Sona. I've never even met him in passing, so I doubt he would be very receptive to joining us."

"That doesn't mean you can't try."

Rias raised an eyebrow at her Queen."You seem awfully persistent about this, Akeno. Something I should know?"

"Oh, not really," she tittered. "I'm just curious about our resident yankee. For Fallen Angels to leave him alive, he must have done something to scare them off, right?"

"Maybe. We just have to be careful about him. Did he see you at all?"

"No. I was far enough that he wouldn't notice. He simply walked home once he was finished anyway."

"Alright." Rias sat silent for a moment, contemplating her options. "…We'll wait and see with him. I don't think he'll be a problem, but I won't disregard the possibility, either." The redhead turned her attention to her younger servant. "Koneko-chan, could you keep an eye on him, maybe introduce yourself to him?"

"Yes, Buchou."

"Oh, I don't think she would mind getting to personally know the creator of Bruiseball. Ufufu~" Akeno giggled, invoking a small smile from her King and a upward twitch on Koneko's lips.

–––––

Rias smiled once more, thinking about that last snip. It was rather funny, watching the Tennis Club take a more proactive role in keeping the Perverted Trio from peeping than the Student Council did in post. Koneko especially enjoyed it for the sheer spectacle, even if she couldn't participate.

But, back on topic, Rias was taking a gamble with this plan for Connor, and she understood that. Even so, Akeno was right. Connor hadn't given her any reason to suspect ill intent toward her or anyone at the academy. He was certainly no friend to the Fallen Angels, so that would be a good talking point to use should the subject come up in private conversation. She would have to talk with Sona about what she and Akeno witnessed before she tried making contact with him. With how quiet the American was, it was difficult to say how he would react.

"You meet the most interesting people in high school," the Gremory heiress mused as she got back to her paperwork. Other business aside, she had to make sure that her newest servant's integration to the ORC went off without a hitch.

"Oh, my! Connor-kun, what happened to you?"

The day was turning out almost exactly as Connor had suspected it would. The confused, shocked or even some piteous stares at the new decoration on his face could be seen from everybody that passed him. Several people had stopped him and asked if he was alright, to which he politely waved off their concerns. It was only during homeroom when Reya first noticed the patch and worriedly approached him that somebody asked him for details.

"I, uh… I had an accident," he answered.

"Some accident." Aika chimed from her spot next to them. He turned to her with a dull expression to find her giving a look of uncharacteristic concern. "Seriously, what did you do to yourself? Did somebody take a swing at you?"

"Not really. I tripped on my school bag yesterday morning and hit a corner on a kitchen counter."

"Ouch," she cringed.

"Yeah. At least I didn't hit it with my teeth."

"You put ice on it, right?" Reya asked.

"Yeah. It probably looks worse than it is, but it still hurts to smile."

"Well, you should probably go to the nurse's office, just to be safe," she suggested.

"I appreciate it, but I think I can survive. If it starts acting up, then I'll go. Promise."

Reya stared for several seconds before she finally acquiesced. "Alright."

"Aika, stop reaching for my notebook," he suddenly stated, then cast a glance over his shoulder. Aika, whose expression now resembled a deer in the headlights, had in fact been leaning down toward his bag to try and grab the notebook behind his back."To exploit a man's injury? Hast thou no honor?"

"You weren't even looking!" she rebuked.

"I don't have to look. I sense a disturbance in the Force every time you try." It was actually true: The set of runes that he placed on the notebook's cover acted as a proximity sensor, reacting to any unknown entity or magic within arm's reach of it. He'd know if anybody tried anything.

Reya held back a giggle, catching the reference. While it was unnerving for her friend to come to school tired and hurt like he was, it was nice to know that he still had his sense of humor.

The classroom door slid open, and the homeroom teacher, Mr. Kurobe, stepped in; briefcase in one hand, a coffee mug in the other. "Good morning, everyone. Murayama-kun, if you woul- Lochlainn-kun, are you alright?"

Connor bit back a sigh, slightly flustered. He had hoped that Kurobe wouldn't make a scene, but the man took pride in his students' well-being. "It's just a bruise, Sensei. It'll heal, I'll be fine."

The middle-aged man looked skeptical, but accepted the answer regardless. "If you say so. Alright, Murayama-kun."

The whole class followed on command from the class representative.

"All rise!"

"Bow!"

"Ohayougozaimasu! Oshietekudasai!" (Good morning! Please teach me!)

"Be seated!"

"Very well, class. Textbooks out. Back to where we left off."

From there, Kurobe continued his lecture on Japanese grammar and sentence structure. Unfortunately, Connor found it increasingly difficult to focus, which didn't go unnoticed by his friend.

Classes were dismissed at around 3:00 P.M on Mondays, and with the classroom cleaned in about 20 minutes, everyone was left to their devices. Most tended to head for their respective clubs early, while others lingered to chat with their peers or catch up on homework. Reya had hoped to check in with Connor again to make sure he was alright after finishing up the classroom.

To her irritation, Connor had once again disappeared once the job was done without anyone realizing it.

She didn't know how he did it; for a guy who could qualify as the tallest student in the academy, he had a knack for escaping a crowded room unnoticed. His arrivals heralded the same attention as any other student, but that wasn't the issue. On breaks or at the end of the day, he would simply… vanish… like he wasn't even there.

Reya let out a disappointed sigh as she entered the Student Council's office. Looking up, she found her President and Vice-President attending to business at their respective desks. Tomoe Meguri, the council's most eccentric member, sat at her assigned desk with her own paperwork. She glanced toward the door and waved at the newcomer. Across from her, tidying up her desk, was Momo Hanakai, Sona's second Bishop.

"Hey, Reya-chan!"

"Hello, Tomoe-chan, Momo-chan. Hello, Kaichou, Fukukaichou."

Sona noticed the distant tone in her Bishop's greeting and looked up. "Is something wrong, Reya?"

"No, not really. But… I'm a little concerned for Connor-kun."

Tomoe snapped up at the name. "Connor-san? What happened? What's wrong? Is he okay?" The redhead's questions were fast-paced and tinged with worry.

"What's wrong with Lochlainn-san?" Tsubaki asked, her curiosity piqued as well.

"He seemed really tired this morning, more so than I've seen from him any morning, and he has this awful bruise on his cheek covered by a patch. He said that he tripped and struck a kitchen counter yesterday, but…"

Sona and Tsubaki glanced at one another as Reya trailed off. Momo noticed but said nothing.

"Do you think that he was lying?" Sona asked.

"I don't know, Kaichou. I don't want to think he was lying. He's been very genuine in the time I've known him, but he seemed hesitant to say what happened. I talked with him at the start of class, but he left right after class ended."

"Maybe he was just embarrassed about it?" Momo suggested offhandedly. "He could just be putting on a brave face. Boys are like that."

"Perhaps, but for his sake, let's err on the side of caution," Sona replied before turning to Reya. "Keep a close eye on him. Use what opportunities you have to talk with him. If he needs something, let him know you are there to help."

"Of course, Kaichou."

"What about me, Kaichou?" Tomoe asked.

"If you cross paths with him, you can ask how he is faring, Tomoe. For now, you have a job to do."

Tomoe pouted for a brief moment before she schooled her features. On any given day, she didn't have many chances to interact with Connor, even though she wanted to. She had friends in both the Kendo Club and Tennis Club that spoke highly of how friendly he was despite what the rumor mill had said about him. She wanted to see for herself just what he was like.

The newest addition to Sona's peerage was a stroke of luck for her, though. Genshirou Saji, as she had been introduced, was going to take her place as secretary of the Student Council within the week, while she would be taking a more generalized position. Maybe with this, she'd be able to at least find out where it was he would go during breaks. With her new goal in sight, she returned to her work with renewed vigor.

Sona, meanwhile, looked down at her desk. Her first thought upon hearing about Connor being extraordinarily tired was to not think anything of it. Any number of things could occur that would prompt someone to stay up longer than normal, especially on a Sunday. She could relate. Similarly, she paid no special heed to his injury. Accidents happen, and if Momo was right, then he was just doing what any teenager would do.

She knew that Connor was a very independent person, based on his behavior during the guided tour she gave him on his first day. He didn't ask very many questions, and the few he did ask pertained to the student body and the layout of the school. Ever since then, she hadn't heard anything of note on him until the creation of the Tennis Club's new pastime, Bruiseball.

A wayward part of her imagination wondered if he had been reincarnated somehow, but the presence of the bruise dispelled that theory almost immediately. No high-class Devil would allow for a newly reincarnated servant to continue bearing an injury like that; it would make them appear negligent.

On another note, Issei Hyoudou's 'date' with the Fallen Angel was yesterday as well. She hadn't spoken to Rias about the issue, but from what she understood, it seemed that the Gremory heiress had indeed reincarnated the second-year student that very night.

Rias had assured her that things were under control, but current evidence stood to the contrary.

"Tsubaki," she called, drawing her Queen's attention. "I want you to be on the lookout, too. It might be nothing, but a little extra precaution wouldn't hurt."

"Yes, Kaichou."

Thankfully, the day went by quicker than Connor had expected, even for a Monday. Although it was certainly much more bizarre than he had anticipated.

For one thing, Issei Hyoudou was still at Kuoh. The brunette had been wandering around all day, trying to find somebody who remembered Yuuma. It seemed that nobody did. Even his two best friends and fellow perverts, to whom he had bragged to their faces on Friday, had no clue what he was talking about. Connor concluded that somebody was jumping through a lot of hoops to make sure the events stayed hidden. Granted, that's what you always did when covering up the supernatural, every magus knew that, but this was some serious Memory Manipulation at work.

He had surmised that Issei was reincarnated after his assassination, but he had also figured that Issei would be stuck somewhere in the Underworld while his new master broke him like a wild animal. For him to actually be here must also mean that the master was at least somewhere nearby. Just one more something to be wary of.

It was clear to him now that at least two Devils of some authority and their respective collections had taken residence in Kuoh. Reya giving him the flyer on Friday was his first clue, the second flyer being another, and Issei's presence confirmed the suspicion. As far as he knew, though, nobody suspected him of anything dubious. He might just be able to carry on with his (somewhat) normal life abroad if he just kept his head down. That could change if he got careless again.

Due to his quickened pace and zigzagging through town, the journey to his temporary abode took only about twenty minutes instead of thirty. Taking the northernmost exit from the market district and going another half-kilometer, he came across the welcome sight of his apartment building. It was nothing special: a two-story apaato holding four apartments on each level, but it was home. The private owner of the building, a kind old man by the name of Watanabe, lived right next door in a smaller, more traditional house of his own. (2)

The apaato wasn't the prettiest thing, but the apartment itself was adequate, for lack of a better term. It had the bare essentials: a small bathroom, a kitchen and dining area, and a living room just big enough to seat a few guests comfortably with a small TV on a stand in the corner nearest to the balcony. Connected to the living room was the sparsely decorated main bedroom, with a twin-size bed in one corner and a large dresser against the wall opposite to it. All in all, a simple Japanese apartment with some western elements thrown here and there. This wasn't to say that his current residence was bad; the price was modest and the neighbors were nice, but he certainly wouldn't mind an upgrade to something bigger if the chance ever arose.

Not that he would get a chance anytime soon, what with all that happened to him recently.

With a practiced motion, he opened the small drop box addressed to his apartment number, swiped the contents, and let the lid snap shut. Disinterestedly, he rifled through the mail, only to discover something that made him freeze.

Among the utility bills was a single unmarked envelope: no address, no return address, and no postage stamp to boot. He glanced around just to make sure he was currently alone. Everywhere he turned; there was no one in sight, just empty street. That should have been reassuring, but it only made him more uneasy. He hurriedly opened the door to his apartment and just as swiftly locked it behind him, practically throwing off his shoes at the genkan. He then tossed the bills haphazardly onto the kitchen's countertop before sitting down at the dining table. (3)

He scrutinized the unmarked letter for several seconds, contemplating whether he should read it or just throw it out. Whoever the sender was, they had hand delivered it to his mailbox, so they knew where he stayed. If he chose to ignore it, there would likely be another message, or possibly something more nefarious, in his mailbox in the following days.

Taking a calming breath, he cautiously felt and squeezed the letter from corner to corner, checking for anything other than paper. Finding nothing, he opened the letter and unfurled a plain white sheet from within. The message was brief, but neatly handwritten.

"Meet me at the benches near the park fountain at 2100 hours tonight. Come alone."

If he wasn't on edge before, he certainly was right there. His common sense told him this was nothing more than a trap to silence him, and now he had a fairly good idea who the sender was.

He spent the next several minutes just sitting at the table and thinking. If his suspicion on the sender was correct, simply ignoring the demand was a waste of an opportunity for answers, and attempting to hide was absolutely pointless. They would likely be watching for his arrival at the park, and would know if he brought any kind of backup. Sometimes he hated thinking like a magus. The ever-present abject suspicion of deceit and foul play was more than a little tiring. Nothing could ever be simple.

It went against his better judgment, but he ultimately decided that he wasn't going to sit around and hope for things to blow over. There was no chance of that happening now. He'd go, but this time, he'd be armed to the teeth. With this mind made up, he went about his evening routine: shower, dinner, some ice to the face to calm his nerves, and by 8:00 P.M., he was picking out the runestones to use in case a quick escape was needed.

A bitterly ironic thought crossed his mind as he passed the threshold of his apartment and locked the door behind him: Yesterday, he had stumbled into a den of lions and managed to walk away. Now, he was marching right back into it.

Connor's short expedition to the park had actually been much less violent than he had expected. There were no Fallen lying in wait along the way, and for that matter hardly even any people. Unsettling as it was, he would take it as a good sign. The fewer witnesses, the better.

The last gleams of sunlight were just barely visible over the horizon by the time he reached the park. He felt an odd chill as he stepped off the sidewalk and into the grass. A barrier of some kind meant to keep away any unwanted visitors, he guessed. At least they had the sense to put one up early this time. Taking a quick glance around the open area, he saw a figure exactly where the letter had said to meet.

Standing by the fountain was a dark-haired young man in a black overcoat. Upon noticing Connor's arrival, he turned and greeted the magus with a short wave and a disarming smile that didn't quite reach his pale grey eyes. Underneath the coat, the man wore a simple black and grey suit and black dress shoes. He was roughly the same size as Connor, both in height and build, and although he didn't appear to be much older, the manner in which he held himself suggested that he was.

The stranger whistled, "That's quite the shiner you've got there." Connor had decided to forego his makeshift patch so his field of vision would at least be somewhat unobstructed. The man's attempt to break the ice was met with an irritated stare. "Relax. I'm not here to kill you."

"You may not be, but someone else around here might."

"It's just me. I'm here on orders from Azazel-sama."

"So were the others. Why should I believe you?" Connor asked. "What proof do you have?"

"You can believe what you want, but as far as proof? You used an ancient curse depicted in the Ulster Cycle of Irish mythology to force fair combat against Dohnaseek. Kalawarner recognized it, and that's why she stopped everything once you killed him. She was the only one that made no move to kill you last night, right?"

Connor thought back and realized that he was right. The bluenette hadn't actually done anything against him other than issue a verbal threat, and the only way this guy would know about that was if he was there, or he heard the story from the three remaining Fallen.

"Who are you?"

"Tobio Ikuse, Slash Dog of Grigori. And you?"

"…Connor Lochlainn, magus. How did you find out where I live?"

"You passed by me on the street heading to school this morning, and I traced your steps back. To be fair, I was on your blind side as you walked." He reinforced his point by holding up his left hand to block the peripheral vision of his left eye.

Connor silently cursed himself for not finishing the Bounded Field sooner. It was already coming back to bite him. "Alright. So what do you want with me?"

"Let me explain some things first. The original operation here was nothing more than observation of a suspected Sacred Gear wielder, but somebody issued false orders under Azazel-sama's name. Now, thanks to your intervention and Kalawarner blowing the whistle, the entire chain of command within the Grigori is undergoing a massive internal investigation."

"Mission compromised," Connor commented.

Tobio nodded. "Pretty much."

"So does that mean you guys are good and gone out of here?" If that were true, it would be the best news he heard all day. Probably all week! Maybe then, he-

"Not exactly. I'm here to observe you for the foreseeable future."

Connor's eyes widened, and his composure cracked slightly. "What?"

"By getting involved the way you did, you've caused quite a stir within the Grigori, and piqued the interest of several important people, including Azazel-sama," Tobio explained. "Now, in place of Raynare's group observing their target, I'm going to be observing you."

"No… Uh-uh, no, not happening, we're done here. Good night, and piss off." He turned to walk away.

"I'm authorized to rat you out to the locals if you try to get away." Tobio's threat made the magus pause. "I can send an anonymous tip to the governing Devils here, make them aware of a dangerous stray magician in their midst and ham up the details however I see fit. If they don't attack you immediately, you would never get a moment's rest again as long as you remain here." Tobio waited until Connor turned fully around to face him before continuing. "And just to make it perfectly clear, the ones in charge here are blood relatives to two of the Four Satans currently in command of the entire Devil race."

Connor began to seethe, sorely tempted to summon the runic sword from his Magic Crest, but then he realized something and stopped himself. Whatever this guy might say to the Devils wouldn't matter if they were going to come after him anyway. They had been there to collect Issei's body, after all.

"Is that right?" he asked. "Well, the Devils already picked up their real prize while I was fighting for my life last night. If the ones in town don't know what I am by now, then it'll come to their attention soon enough. I'll give you credit, though. That was a nice try. Good night." He turned to leave again.

"What about the Fallen? Have you got a plan for them?"

Connor stopped and turned around again, simultaneously curious and annoyed at this man's persistence. "If I did, why would I tell it to you?"

Tobio held up his hands in a placating manner. "Look, I don't want a fight any more than you do, and I also don't want to cause any kind of trouble that could get people killed. But killing Dohnaseek put you on the Grigori's radar, and that man had some friends who are not happy about his death. So what I'm suggesting is a deal. Something where the both of us benefit."

"You just tried to blackmail me. And how do I know you what you're offering is real?"

"Because I'm one of Azazel-sama's best fighters," Tobio answered. "A vast majority of people within the Grigori value strength above all else. In that regard, I can match most anybody there, so my word carries weight. If I say to leave well enough alone, people will listen. Azazel-sama will make them listen. Anyone that doesn't can be written off as rogue, and you can do whatever you want with them. I'm offering you a choice, Lochlainn-san, because I can promise you that no one else will give you that option."

Connor looked to his right, thinking it over. He knew he couldn't hold off everyone that came after him forever. Sooner or later, he'd be caught unawares. If what Tobio said was true, then this arrangement would be better than anything Connor could do on his own without any resources or contacts. When he looked back, he saw Tobio remaining right where he was before, not even shifting in his posture.

"What's this deal?"

"We keep it civil and inconspicuous. I just got a part-time job at an izakaya here in town to maintain my cover. You drop in once a week and fill me in on your activities, and I'll keep the more wily members of Grigori off your back while the investigation continues." He raised a hand, anticipating Connor's protest. "I'm not asking you to divulge family secrets or anything like that. I know how much you magi like to keep them. All I'm asking for is your day-to-day goings-on, that's it." (4)

A tense silence followed. It was a very generous deal, all things considered. Tobio didn't have to go to such lengths and actually make contact with his target, but he did anyway. Then again, a simple weekly meeting to stave off retaliation seemed too good to be true. For his own peace of mind, Connor had to make sure.

Connor closed his eyes, then reopened them with the Mystic Eyes active. Guaranteed backlash aside, being able to discern one's intention(s) was a blessing in disguise because, through eye contact, in addition to correctly predicting a target's next possible movements, they could detect when said target was attempting to mislead him through words or actions. In essence, they took a glimpse into the mind, past the surface thoughts and into the self-perceived future of that target. He stared into Tobio's eyes for several seconds, searching for any kind of deceit. To his surprise and unspoken relief, he found nothing: Tobio was telling the truth.

Tobio tilted his head slightly in intrigue at the luminescent orbs boring into his own. He had heard Kalawarner and Raynare talk about the eyes from within the Grigori's interrogation chamber, but here it seemed unreal to behold. One would almost mistake it for a Sacred Gear, except that Kalawarner asserted that it wasn't. If not a Gear, then what could it-

"Fine."

The curt answer to his proposal seemed to snap Tobio out of his thoughts. "Then, it's settled. Stop by Nomura's Bar & Grill next Sunday at 6:00 P.M. That's when my shift ends." He turned and began to walk away before throwing another comment over his shoulder. "And when you get there, act like we're old friends."

Connor waited until Tobio was out of sight and the chill in the air was gone before sitting down on the closest park bench. Head in his hands, he shut off the eyes and braced for the inevitable stinging. Like clockwork, the sensation flared to life and subsided within a span of a few minutes.

Leaning back against the bench, Connor stared up at the darkened sky and breathed in the crisp spring air.

He trusted his eyes, and after thinking about it a bit further, he figured he really wasn't going to get much better than what he'd been offered. It was about as close to a proverbial olive branch as he was ever receive from the Grigori. If a weekly meeting at a restaurant was all he had to do in order for Tobio to keep his word, then that was fine. Of course, he would be on his guard at those meetings, but that was a bridge to cross later.

With a tired sigh, he stood back up and began the trek back to retire for the night. If this worked out, then maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't feel the need to work himself into a coma with putting up all his defensive measures.

'While I'm out, though… ah, what the hell, might as well work on the Bounded Field.'

Then again, the old habits of a magus never truly die. They just have a long half-life.

…

(1): Steamed brown rice

(2): Typically a two-story multi-unit residential building.

(3): Traditional entryway area for a house, apartment, or building usually located directly in front of the door. An indoor porch, if you will.

(4): Informal bar for after-work drinking, similar to pubs, saloons, taverns, etc.

…

Turned out a bit shorter than I expected, but this seemed like a good place to leave off.

If you like what you read, leave a favorite, a follow or a review to let me know. Any advice or support that you could give would be greatly appreciated. If you'd like to take a shot at the challenge listed in chapter 1, send me a PM, I'd love to hear your thoughts on it.

Once more, thank you for reading!