Welcome back.

Again, sorry for the wait. I won't bore you with personal details, since that's not what you're here for.

Thank you again to everyone, both on the story's reception and on the feedback from my question in chapter 4. Some of you were spot on with what I had in mind, and that just makes me all the more excited to go through with it.

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

Published: March 18, 2021

Updated: March 16, 2023

…

Chapter 6 – Decisions

Tobio sat on a couch inside a high-end apartment in Kuoh, waiting for the owner to come back with refreshments. Jin likewise took a spot on the couch beside him, head resting on his front legs, waiting for his partner to finish with his business. On first impressions, one would think that the dimly lit apartment belonged to an art collector, considering the expensive mosaic painting on the wall and numerous little sculptures decorating every available surface across the living room. The relaxing atmosphere helped him think.

After agreeing to the new terms less than an hour ago, Connor had left Nomura's almost immediately without another word, not even hesitating around Jin like he did earlier. Tobio didn't take offense, he'd worked with people like that in the Grigori. What they lacked in tact was usually made up for with efficiency. While Connor wasn't as unbearable as they had been, the whole 'get what you need and go' behavior was a bit irritating.

He was told not to expect a social butterfly when he was first briefed on this mission, but still…

From the kitchen, a man in a dull grey robe emerged, carrying a tray with an ice bucket, drinking glasses and a bottle of Scotch in his hands. He was a tall man with an average to above average build, black hair with golden bangs, and a small black goatee that dotted his chin. He walked without a care in the world to the coffee table and set the tray down, then lazily flopped into another sofa directly beneath the painting.

"Been a while since I've had a good drink with someone. So, how'd it go?" the man inquired as he transferred ice cubes from the bucket to the glasses.

"He had one little condition, but he took the job. He'll do some looking, then get back to me on Sunday."

"Atta boy, Tobio!" his host said with a grin. "Looks like you've got your very first informant. Good for you, putting down some roots."

"Thank you very much," Tobio deadpanned, not sure if the man meant that as a double entendre. "I have to admit, I wasn't sure if what I offered would be enough. He keeps trying to put on a tough act, but I can tell that the stress is getting to him."

"Yeah, that's par the course for magi. They're good about keeping their problems to themselves. They'll only tell you just enough to make you shut up quicker." He popped the top of the Scotch and poured one of the glasses full.

"If you don't mind me asking, Azazel-sama, why the sudden interest in Lochlainn-san? It can't simply be because he's a magus." If there was ever a time to get answers for the Governor General's bizarre orders, it would be when the man was drinking for the fun of it.

Azazel didn't reply right away, glancing at the bottle in his hand. "Well, there's a long story to that. You sure you want to hear it?"

"If you're not-"

"Alright, you talked me into it." Azazel cut him off, pouring up the second glass full of Scotch, and handing it to the younger man. "Have a drink and let this old Angel tell you a winded tale from his misspent youth."

Tobio watched with a neutral expression as his quasi-father figure tipped his head back and took several gulps. His definition of 'drinking buddy' usually meant 'somebody that can match me,' which Tobio had no way of achieving for the simple reason that he was human. It wasn't that he couldn't stomach alcohol, he just couldn't do it at Azazel's level the way the man wanted. Nonetheless, Tobio would indulge him every now and then.

He took a sip of his own, then stared at his drink. This one tasted like honey with all the heat of fire going down. Interesting. Too bad 'Oyaji' had a stubborn disdain for foreign drinks. "If it ain't sake, I don't want it!" he'd say.

"Magi, magi…" Azazel dully began, leaning back into the couch once his throat was clear, "a subject of intrigue since the dawn of civilization. As you know, they've always been a very secretive bunch, even more so than many others that deal with the supernatural. Most other magicians will label them as a cult that's too stuck in the past for their own good. If that were true, they wouldn't have lasted as long as they did. In all my years, I can count on two hands the number of times I've met a bonafide magus. Not that most of them ever verbally confirmed it. Had to figure that out myself."

"When was the last time?" Tobio asked.

"It was around the year… 1536," Azazel answered, enjoying the look of surprise from Tobio. "Yeah. The Italian Renaissance was all the rage back then, making waves across post-Plague Europe, and pretty much everyone else went and had one of their own. Germany, Poland, France and England all joined in, trying to one-up each other on who had the best brains in music, literature, science and all that. Folks like William Shakespeare and Martin Luther popped up around those times.

"I was wandering around the German-speaking states at the time, playing myself off as a socialite, learning about this and that, and one man among all the intellectuals there stood out to me. A Swiss man by the name of Theophrastus von Hohenheim, but you might know him by the moniker 'Paracelsus.'"

Tobio blinked and nodded, remembering the name from his studies at Nephilim.

Paracelsus was one of those rare people that were centuries ahead of their time. Much of what modern medicine practiced had stemmed from what Paracelsus discovered, proved and disproved through his studies in chemistry and biology in the early 1500s. And although he died before the age of fifty, he had immortalized himself in history as a pioneer in the field of medical knowledge and the 'Father of Toxicology.'

And evidently, acquaintance to Azazel.

"What most people don't know about the man was that he was also a magus," a smiling Azazel explained, "and a brilliant alchemist. When I met him, he had just published 'Der grossen Wundartzney,' which made him the talk of all Germany. We had some really insightful conversations over the next two years. He taught me things about alchemy that I had no clue about. I even went and had some guys in our Science Division test out a few of his theories themselves. By the end of it, Paracelsus had his own fan club in the Grigori," he finished, chuckling at the funny memory of some of his best scientists not acting their age. (1)

"What was he like?"

The twinkle in Azazel's violet eyes faded, and the smile on his lips flattened. "He was a good man, and shockingly humble for a magus. Passionate about his work, like any scientist worth their salt would be, but I got the feeling that he was… lonely. There was nobody around him who thought on the same level that he did, not even me, and I think that loneliness contributed to his radical view of magecraft.

"He wanted it brought to the general public, to make it known to the world. You can imagine how well-received that was by his peers. He had this bizarre faith in the good will of mankind and firmly believed that the use of magecraft would be to mankind's benefit. Unfortunately, his views were what got him killed. He died when he did because he was assassinated by traditionalist magi in order to keep their status quo of utmost secrecy."

Azazel paused to take another sip of his Scotch, looking distantly over to the sofa at his right, as if seeing the spirit of an old friend sitting right there with them. It was a rare thing for the Governor General to look so morose.

"When I got word that he had died, I went to his mansion to try and find what I could that belonged to him." He frowned. "But his killers had already covered up the crime and scuttled every single bit of his work: all his experimental notes, the mountains of catalysts he had stockpiled, and even the next book he was planning to publish. The only thing left to his name was his corpse. Such a damn waste, to be cut down in his prime like that."

"Why didn't you offer him protection?" Tobio carefully asked.

Azazel turned to him and smiled ruefully.

"I did, but he refused it. Said that it would be hypocritical of him as a magus to hide behind walls while professing the existence of magecraft to the world. He knew the risks of what he was doing, but he kept moving forward without a hint of regret. He was just that selfless; he loved humanity so much that he was willing to cast away his own life for it.

"You asked me why the sudden interest in Lochlainn? Because I want to see if anything has changed in the last five hundred years. Have magi as a whole changed at all? Are they still as reclusive and self-centered as I remember them from thousands of years ago, or are there others like him, who will go out of their way to help their fellow man? It's stupid, I know. Penemue's already given me that stink-eye of hers, and I might just be talking out of my ass here, but… I just want to see." He trailed off, looking back to the empty chair.

Tobio sat silently, watching the emotions play across Azazel's face. He had been operating under the assumption that Azazel was simply satisfying a curiosity by having him monitor a potential target, just the same as Raynare had been assigned with Issei Hyoudou. Now, though, he could see that this was a little more personal for the eccentric leader of the Fallen Angels. This wasn't about the Grigori, or even any one person's value to it. It was about a man reminded of the guilt he felt over not saving a friend when he had the chance to do so.

"Well," the agent started, "I don't think Paracelsus has anything to do with it, but it seems to me that Lochlainn-san isn't like the magi of the old days. He made the choice to help Asia-san, and I think he's committed to it."

Azazel slowly nodded, seeming satisfied with the answer.

"Oh, that reminds me," he said, "what was the kid's condition for taking the job?"

Tobio just smiled.

By the time Connor reached the church and stood by at the grove of trees surrounding it, the sun was completely gone from view, and in its place was the moon, casting an eerie light over the quiet little town. The house of worship looked the same as it did before: ruined, forgotten by the people, sentenced to spend its days rotting away.

He had actually only spent less than fifteen minutes preparing for this task. The rest of the time was simply waiting for the sun to set, and while it was helpful to navigate the streets, he needed more than just moonlight to perform his recon. Lifting his finger to the outside corners of his eyes, he invoked the runes he had drawn there earlier in the evening.

As it turned out, Kenaz, the rune representing knowledge and intellect, was a remarkable substitute for a contact lens.

His grandfather had once used Kenaz to bypass a cataract in his right eye, and it worked perfectly until the time came for his surgery to remove it. When the old man shared this with the family, he found that it could enhance the vision of functioning eyes.

For Connor, it would widen the spectrum of light that his eyes could interpret and amplify it, making him as capable of seeing in the dark as well as he could see normally on a sunny day. Unfortunately, like anyone using night vision, it also made him very susceptible to bright flashes. Just a passing glance of a flashlight would be enough to leave him seeing spots.

He waited for a few moments to adjust, then zigzagged his way through the treeline until he reached opposite side of the church, checking for entrances and potential escape routes in the building. From what he could see, there were only two: the main doors facing the west, and an emergency exit to the south. He had no intention of going inside right then, but the knowledge of where everything was would be good for if he did again in the near future.

Carefully watching his every step, he crept closer to the church, but stopped several yards short of the south wall when he heard voices coming from inside. They were difficult to make out at first, but it didn't sound like he'd been spotted. He let out a baited breath, then continued his approach until he reached the wall, then moved to the window for a better listen.

"I'm just saying. We've been here for more than a week, without so much as a text. How do we know they're even coming back at all?" Connor heard a rather young male voice speak.

"We don't, but you know as well as I do that we've got nowhere else to go," a second male voice replied, this one much deeper and scratchier than that of his fellow guard.

Connor chanced a peek through the window. He saw one man standing in front of another that was seated on a pew. Engrossed in their conversation as they were, neither was facing his direction. Judging by his posture and tone of voice, the first man was incredibly anxious. His cohort, on the other hand, was completely relaxed, leaning back against the pew and giving an annoyed stare. Both men were dressed in light-colored shirts and pants with darker long coats.

"I don't get it. Why not just call us and tell us the deal's off so we can get out of here?"

"Because you can't talk the boss out of an idea any more than I can. What're you so worried about, anyway? I told you already. This is the safest place we could possibly be from the Devils. They're not going to come barging in here."

"For how long, though? Freed already screwed things up yesterday. Who's to say he won't do it again and lead them right to us?"

"Freed is not stupid. He's a crazy son of a bitch, but he's not stupid. More than likely, he'll just bide his time and wait for one of us to screw up so he can get away with killing them himself."

"He's not even a son of a bitch, is he?"

"No, you're right, that would be an insult to bitches."

Connor watched the second man take out a cigarette carton and a Zippo from a pocket on his coat. Taking one cancer-stick from the carton with his mouth, he flicked his lighter open with practiced ease, letting the distinctive 'clang' echo in the chapel. He lit the end and took a long drag, then tilted his head upwards to blow smoke rings into the air.

The younger man snorted, "Heh. Thinks he's hot shit just because he's a clone of Siegfried. But I don't remember Siegfried ever being a goddamn lunatic."

"Yeah, well, the point still stands. We're not going anywhere, so just drop it."

'Clone of Siegfried? So this guy Freed is a Designer Baby? When did the Church get into that? And where would they've gotten the material?'

The magus almost jumped when he felt a rumble. The exorcists' conversation had stopped and both were now looking toward the alter. He followed their gaze to the empty back wall and, to his surprise, it was moving. Or at least, a false section of it was. It had inched forward, then slid over to the left to reveal a hidden passageway. From that passageway emerged another man dressed in the same uniform as the guards. He, however, wasted no time in trotting past the other two.

"Gotta take a leak," he hurriedly stated, his voice bearing a more nasal timbre.

Connor pressed himself against the wall as he watched the man pass the front door, just in case he turned the corner and looked his way. Nothing happened for another three minutes until he heard footsteps coming back into the church and voices from inside again.

"Any progress?" the younger exorcist asked.

"No, still nothing," was the answer. Connor looked back inside to see the third man having joined the other two.

The smoker sighed. "This'd be so much easier if she was human. All the normal formulas don't work on those bloodsuckers."

'She? Bloodsucker? The hell's he talking about? Have they got an actual vampire down there?'

"Can't be helped. The boss's positive the payoff will be worth it, so we just keep trying." The third man didn't sound very convinced of what he had just said, as if he were reading from a script.

Without another word, he returned to the false wall and slid it back into place behind him, jimmying it a bit to make sure it fit snugly.

"Yeah? Too bad he's just as crazy as Freed," the younger exorcist muttered with disdain.

Connor leaned away from the window, looking down at the ground to process what he'd heard.

The term 'bloodsucker' was one of many derogatory names that the Church and its emissaries used to describe any creature that fed on human blood or flesh. This one more specifically referred to vampires and their thralls. It didn't make sense for the subject to even come up at his meeting with Tobio, given the Church's animosity toward them, so he had chalked it up to Tobio overhearing some empty chatter.

Not so empty now.

Curse his curiosity. Now he really wanted to find out what was going on, but now wasn't the time. He still had to learn more.

Hearing nothing more between the exorcists, Connor decided to make his move. He crept to the nearest corner of the building, and inscribed the sequence he used to identify outer borders of a Bounded Field.

'Othala, Fehu, Inguz.'

He repeated the sequence for the other corners, being careful to avoid the doorways and any windows. All four formed a box that encapsulated the entire church. Once that was done, he backtracked to the emergency exit and inscribed the final sequence at ground level.

'Uruz, Raidho, Mannaz, Ansuz. Nauthiz.'

With this, the impromptu Bounded Field was complete. Much like the one set around the apaato, anyone coming through the boundaries would be detected and an immediate signal would be sent directly to him. This setup, however, differed in that the 'ping' would only be sent to him once two or more entities passed the Field's edges within three seconds of each other. If a large group passed through, the signal would go off repeatedly.

He didn't want to know every single time a thug went outside to relieve their bladders, but rather he wanted to find out what their rotation schedule was. A group like this couldn't survive on limited supplies; they needed food, water, toiletries and other somesuch to keep an outpost going for extended periods of time.

To make doubly sure, he scrawled another string of runes further away from the 'ping' transmitter to act as an emergency transmitter. If the Field was ever disrupted, this one would let off a continuous signal, much like an error light on a car dashboard.

'Hagalaz, Jera, Ansuz.'

Any information was good information. About thirty-six hours from now, he would have a solid idea of when they switched out. From there, he could determine the right time by which he could try and find out what they were doing here. In the meantime, he would have to keep Asia out of sight from their patrols.

Now satisfied with having done what he came to do, Connor quietly returned to the tree line and made his way home. There was no point in sticking around and risk someone seeing him. He still had a lot of things to consider, and more preparations to make.

Had he stayed for a few seconds longer, he would've seen another figure coming up the path to the church's entrance.

'What is going on?' he wondered to himself.

He stood a fair distance away from the derelict church, a torrent of emotions flowing through his mind. The most prevalent among them was a boiling anger.

The plan was supposed to be simple: Use the Church's hatred of Devils to get their newest Holy Maiden excommunicated and away from the confines of the Vatican, swoop in, save the girl, and bring her into his peerage after some 'bonding time.' He'd done it so many times before, and it always worked. He had a nearly full peerage of former maidens as a result, which he took great satisfaction in.

But something was wrong. Asia's presence wasn't here. He could sense a cluster of humans inside, but she wasn't among them. And for that matter, neither were the Fallen.

This didn't make sense. He'd seen her presence at the Vatican, he'd felt it, he'd committed it to memory, and yet it wasn't there. This was the only place she could have gone, but she wasn't there. His prize wasn't there!

Where was she?!

'Why is everything getting in my way?! WHY NOW?!'

Swiping his hand out to his side, he called forth a magic circle. Within seconds, a young woman with long platinum blonde hair emerged, clad in a blue and white dress that left a good portion of her chest open. A blue shoulder cape with gold trim clasped together in front of her neck with a green broach, while similarly colored bands decorated her arms and wrists. Her amber eyes displayed little in the way of emotion.

"You summoned me, Lord Diodora?" the woman asked subserviently.

"Asia is not where she's supposed to be. Gather the others and scour every square centimeter of this human cesspool for her. Leave no stone unturned! I want her found, now!" His face twisted in rage with every sentence until he was barely recognizable by the end.

"As you wish, Lord Diodora." If she was at all unnerved by her master's anger, she did not let it show. Just as quickly as she had arrived, his Queen disappeared to perform her task as commanded of her.

The heir to House Astaroth took one last glance at the church before storming away. He needed to vent, and using one of his pieces as a plaything wasn't going to cut it. Someone had to be made to pay.

"I will find her! I will not be denied!"

At lunchtime the following day, Connor had made it to his favored spot by the Tennis courts, free and clear of any pursuers. He wasn't eating his lunch, though. His mind was on too many other matters.

The sensor on the church's Bounded Field had gone off as intended right around 7:00, just a few minutes before sunrise. He figured that the next change of guard would happen sometime close to sunset, but he would have to wait for another two pings to confirm his theory. If nothing overt happened between then and Sunday, he could turn the information over to Tobio and collect the rest of his reward.

Or, he could sit on the information and see for himself what it was the exorcists were doing, and then turn it over to Tobio. It was a stupid idea, but a part of him still really wanted to do it.

Then there was what happened earlier in the morning.

–––––

Connor and Asia were just finishing breakfast. He had finished washing the dishes and was about to head out for the day when he caught sight of Asia, still sitting at the table and looking down.

"Everything okay?"

"Y-yes, I… I'm fine," she replied shyly.

He knew that tone by now. She was thinking something self-deprecating again, and falling back on her habit of keeping it bottled up. Shaking his head, he sat back down across from her, prompting her to look up at him.

"Asia, if you're still worried about being a burden, don't be. If there's something on your mind, feel free to tell me."

She didn't respond at first, or even change her expression, and he briefly wondered if he had misread her mood.

"There is… something I would really like to do. Could I… um…" she looked to be struggling to find the right words until she blurted, "Could I attend the school here? Kuoh Academy?"

Connor blinked, more than a little surprised by the question. Yep, totally misread it.

"Well, if it were a normal school, I would say, "Yes, absolutely." But… there are some things that we need to set straight. First off, what kind of education did you get at the Vatican?"

"Eh? Oh, um… I was taught math, science, world history, and I can read, write and speak English and Italian. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, that's fine, we can work with that," he assured. "Secondly, I'm know for a fact that there are Devils among the students, Issei being one of them, but I don't think they're like the one you met. I've been in Kuoh for a little over three weeks, and they haven't done anything to me. I'd like to think that their presence here is benign, but I'm treating them with caution lately.

"And thirdly, given your circumstances, I don't know where you would be placed if you enrolled. There's a pretty high chance that you and I wouldn't be in the same class together."

He felt horrible for doing so, but he was actively trying to talk her out of it, hoping she would take the hint. His encounter with Rias and Sona had left a bad taste in his mouth, and he was afraid that Asia would crumble under pressure from either of them. More Rias than Sona, but in his experience, he'd seen what cruelty a high school kid was capable of. Throw in a Devil and…

"Bearing all this in mind, are you sure you want to go?"

"Yes. I remember your landlord saying that he would allow students as tenants if they had a scholarship from the school here. I like it here. And I…" she paused and glanced away then back to him. "I know I should be happy with what I have, but… I've always wanted to know what a real school is like. And if the Devils here really are nice, then maybe I could… be friends with them… like Issei."

Connor held back a defeated sigh.

Just like that, he had lost. There was nothing more he could say. She didn't even hesitate with her answer this time. She had thought it through and come to a roughly similar conclusion as him. There was no way for her to maintain residence at the apaato other than a scholarship, since he doubted that anyone, even in a small town like this, would hire a foreigner with no prior work experience. And that wasn't even taking into account her broken Japanese.

He understood that he couldn't keep her locked up forever, but there was still so much that he was unsure of: Where her stalker was, whether or not the exorcists would come knocking, and now, how he could swing getting her enrolled into Kuoh.

"Okay," he said, "I can't make any guarantees as of now, but I'll talk to a few people and see what I can do."

That was all she needed to hear, because that same serene smile from two nights ago had returned.

"Thank you."

He wished she wouldn't look at him like that.

"You're welcome."

–––––

'And here I am again,' he thought bitterly. 'I just went in one big circle.'

"Yoo-hoo~" a voice chimed next to him.

Having Tobio help with getting a transcript drawn up for Asia would be a step in the right direction, but there was still the issue of whether she could adapt properly. If only he and Asia had that conversation before his meeting, then maybe the transcript could have been his condition for the investigation job, instead of an easy-to-learn translation spell for her.

Or would that have been too much to ask?

"Yoo-hoo~"

Finally regarding the presence beside him, he looked up.

Seated next to him with a soft smile was a young woman with long brown hair framing her face and cascading past her shoulders in fancy drill-like curls. Her deep blue eyes shined like sapphires in the light and, much like every girl in the academy, the standard uniform made her maturing body appear much more proportionate than an 18 year old's should be.

Kiyome Abe, third-year high school student, captain of the Tennis Club, and self-proclaimed 'Tenisu no Oujo-sama' of Kuoh Academy. (2)

"Got something on your mind, Connor-kun?" she asked, tilting her head.

"Yeah. And for the life of me, I'm without an answer."

"Oh dear," she playfully gasped. "Would you like to talk about it with Kiyome-nee-sama?"

He wasn't sure what it was, but something about Kiyome always put him at ease. And it wasn't just him, she had that effect on everybody. At times, she would act like an upper class lady, with exaggerated manners and over-the-top use of 'desu wa' in her speech, and at others, she was completely casual and easygoing, as if she were raised on a farm in the countryside. Maybe it was that she rarely seemed to take herself seriously that made him feel like he could relax around her, even if by just a little bit.

"Sure, 'nee-sama,' I could use the company," he acquiesced.

He tried to spin the story of Asia's arrival as an accident, how Asia was supposed to have gone to South Korea as part of a foreign exchange program in her private school in Italy, but a ridiculous series of clerical errors left her stranded in Japan instead. From there, she had walked and taken public buses until she reached Kuoh, where she crossed paths with him and Issei, the both of whom helped her with finding a place to stay for a short while.

He thought about using hypnosis again, but the situation didn't really call for it like it had with Mr. Watanabe. Even so, he left out details that he felt would be incriminating, as far as involvement with the supernatural, but ended with Asia's desire to attend a school despite her predicament.

Kiyome's expression had turned serious, for only the second time since he'd met her. "Are you afraid that she'll be bullied?"

"I think targeted would be more fitting, but more or less," he conceded.

"Is it the Devils you're worried about?"

Connor's eyes widened slightly. "You know about them?"

"Mm-hm," she smiled cheerfully. "I've known for a long time. I'm a Beast Tamer, so I've been aware of the supernatural part of the world since I was a little girl. I knew that Rias-san and Sona-san were Devils from the moment I met them."

It made sense now. Her stance, her walk, her speech, they all pointed to someone who'd worked with phantasmal species for years and knew how to handle themselves around equal or lesser creatures.

'Come to think of it, there always is a bird or two that follows Kiyome around when she's outside. Even on the tennis courts, they don't stay very far away from her. Maybe that's part of her Origin? No, that can't be it. If it was, then she'd be the one exhibiting compulsive behaviors, not the beings around her. And that's if she was even a magus awakened to her Origin. This is more like a… an Attribute of sorts.'

"Connor-kun?"

"Oh- Er- Sorry," he stumbled as he brought himself back to reality. "And they haven't approached you about reincarnation?"

"Oh, they have, but I've made it clear to them that I have no intention on becoming a Devil," she mused, twirling one of her drilled bangs. "We're lucky to have Rias-san and Sona-san as the ones here, since they're not big on manipulation. They've never brought it up again after that first talk. So what's really going on with this girl? Why will she be targeted?"

He sighed, figuring it was pointless to dodge the truth after being called out like that. "It's because she's a nun. A former nun, but, six of one for a Devil. They already know about her, and Rias has made it clear that she's not welcome. Thing is, there's nowhere else she can go in this town. Her only chance to stay in the apartment I got for her is if she gets a scholarship, otherwise she's getting evicted. I wasn't lying about that."

"I think you're worrying too much," she dismissed.

"I'd rather it be too much than not enough. And what makes you think that?"

"Rias-san and Sona-san aren't as bad as you think they are. They honor their agreements. I told them that if they never asked to reincarnate me again, they could use the tennis field at any time to settle any disputes between them. To this day, that deal has stuck." She got a confused stare, prompting her to explain further. "They're very competitive with each other, and sports are a way for them to settle their differences and maintain their cover."

"No loopholes?"

"Well…" Her head drooped as she recalled an apparently depressing memory. "Sometimes their duels get pretty intense, and they start using magic against each other. The field ends up looking like a war zone, and my beasts and I are the ones that have to clean up after them while they hypnotize any witnesses. We can do it with no issue, but I just hadn't considered it when I first made the deal with them."

That didn't surprise him. That's why contracts and agreements in this day and age had to have written stipulations at least a mile in length. Even then, no agreement is ever seamless, and where there's a will to exploit it, there would be a way.

"Anyway~," she bounced back, "I think that if you explain this girl's situation, then at the very least Sona-san will work with you to get her enrolled here. She has a sort of 'leave no one behind' mentality when it comes to education. So here's my advice to you, Connor-kun: When you strike a deal with the Devil, think more than one step ahead."

"Abe-sempai!" a voice called, interrupting the serious talk. From their right, a student in the academy's PE uniform –which consisted of a white t-shirt, bloomers and simple running shoes– quickly approached them with something in her hands. She looked ecstatic, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "I saw this- oh, hello, Lochlainn-sempai." she paused to politely bow, then swiveled back to Kiyome. "I saw a video over the weekend on how to make a bolas using three tennis balls and some paracord. So I got some paracord last night and made this! Can we go test it out on the perverts?"

Kiyome's eyes lit up. "You know I never turn down Bruiseball! Let's go! Don't be a stranger, Connor-kun!" she declared, jumping to her feet and following close behind her junior. With a new weapon in their arsenal, the two were likely headed to round up other members of the Tennis Club before setting off in search of the Perverted Trio (or The Three Stooges, as the American referred to them). Like any hunt in the wild, there was strength in numbers.

Connor's amused smile slowly faded as he looked down at his hands in thought.

'More than one step ahead, huh?'

Pain.

Excruciating, unrelenting pain.

Her mouth was wide open to scream, but no sounds escaped it. Her throat had long since given out.

It had been like this for days: They would drag her into a magic circle in the middle of a dark room underground, invoke some kind of ritual that felt like she was being torn apart from the inside, then give up once nothing happened and throw her into a locked cell until the next day and try again.

She didn't know what day it was, or even what time of day, and they only gave her the barest of essentials in order to keep her alive through their experiment. More than once, she wished that they would just kill her and be done with it. But with her body unable to voice her thoughts, she was left to suffer by their hands in silence.

A loud, grating screech suddenly erupted and echoed against the walls of the underground chamber, sending the exorcists into a panic.

"What the fuck?!"

"Turn it off! Turn it off!" a loud voice tried to exclaim over the noise.

The screech lasted for another few seconds before it abruptly stopped, as did the agony from the ritual. A high-pitched ringing in her ears now accompanied the lingering pain she had become so well accustomed to. From beyond her field of vision, a gaggle of voices flew back and forth in a flurry.

"Oww… my fucking ears!"

"Fucking hell! What happened now?!"

"I don't know. This doesn't make sense. We got all the characters right this time, didn't we?"

"Yeah, I triple checked them."

"All of you, shut up! Go check everything again, now!" She heard no verbal reply, just the scurrying footsteps abandoning the chamber in haste. "Christ! It's always something!"

Her unkempt blond hair was grabbed roughly by a large hand and brought her up to its owner's face. His appearance didn't matter to her, they all looked the same now. He sneered, then dragged her away from the circle and unceremoniously tossed her into the cell, like he always did. She landed hard, but remained unmoving.

"Goddamn bloodsucker. Why did one of His treasures end up with you?" he snarled before slamming the door and locking her inside.

Her red eyes stared blankly at the room's stone-laden wall.

That was a good question: Why did that cursed power end up with her?

It had done nothing but cause her pain. Her own father and half-brother made her into a tool for the 'betterment of their people.' And when rumors flew of it being in her possession, her homeland was suddenly plunged into a brutal and bloody civil war. Noble families that once lived in relative peace with each other for centuries turned on one another. Entire generations slaughtered in a mad grab for the power she never wanted.

These men coveted her Sacred Gear so badly? They could have it. Better that they suffer its curse than her, or…

A lone tear slowly fell from her eye as her thoughts drifted to her friend. The same one that she had come to love as a little brother despite what others said about him. The same one that she would dress up in girls' clothes just to mess with him. The same one that she had tried to escape Romania with to protect him.

The same one that she had watched die by the hands of Vampire Hunters.

Why? Out of all the people in the world to have been shackled with this power, why them?

Previously, she would've crawled to the back corner of the room to try and get a little bit of rest, hoping against hope that the exorcists would make a careless mistake, and that she might find a way to escape. Now, though, her limbs just wouldn't listen to her.

All she could feel was…

Pain.

'Gasper… I'm sorry…'

…

(1): The Great Surgery Book: A collective restoration of Paracelsus' previous works that flung him into the limelight of the German Renaissance.

(2): A little bit of a low-budget word play on 'The Prince of Tennis.' I know nothing of the series, so it's just about the title.

…

Done.

Can you imagine the chaos that would ensue from Shirou Emiya summoning Paracelsus instead of Artoria Pendragon for the Fifth Grail War? Rin would've torn out both her's and Archer's hair from the endless aggravation.

Having gotten this far by myself, I'm wondering if now would be a good time to start looking for a beta reader. I understand the concept, and I like it a lot, but it's still unexplored territory for me, so I've been hesitant to ask. Now, though, I think I'm going to need help with maintaining quality. I've also seen a lot of people say good things about Discord, so should I look into using that if I'm having trouble?

If you would 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.

As always, thank you for reading!