Chapter rewritten and enhanced 19 Sep 2023
Changelog: humor. Watch for the night owls

GREETINGS, FOLKSMEN.

Ti's i, danzy, presenting yet another chapter written in an unexpected amount of time because i am fucking laughing at this story

Btw i retconned Shadow borrowing Kiba's sword with a rebar. Thanks to yohoohoo's review

I've also edited the ending of the last chapter a bit. Several paragraphs, nothing major. I think its' better that you reread it a bit. Or not. The ending's pretty much the same but with added dramatic flair between Rias and her Servants as she proposed to be Kuroka's distraction

ANYWAY.

Enjoy shadowbros

〖 Chapter 5 〗

⦕ I Am… A Shepherd? Huh? Wait what? ⦖

Shadow's magically-filtered and distorted voice had an unexpected effect on Kuroka. The Stray Devil, once unyielding, now seemed to hesitate, cautious. She did not take light of him as she did her previous combatants. A flicker of uncertainty danced in her amber eyes, her wrath momentarily dissipating in the face of the unforeseen power before her.

Rias, Koneko, and Issei observed the unfolding exchange with bated breath. Time seemed to stretch, and even Rias momentarily forgot about the teleportation pentagram she was supposed to activate. It was as if the universe itself conspired to make this moment linger, as if recognizing the significance of this cryptic confrontation. Shadow appeared like a miraculous anomaly sent by mysterious forces watching over the scene. As a Gremory, Rias felt a profound urge to express her gratitude properly.

Especially when she began to realize that he might hold the key to solving many of her current problems. This realization had yet to dawn on her fully, but it was simmering beneath the surface, waiting to emerge.

Observing Kuroka's silence and hesitance, Cid executed what he fancied as the 'head tilt of underestimation.' It was a look that silently challenged Kuroka's attempt at intimidation, a nonchalant gesture.

Kuroka, in response, couldn't resist another frustrated click of her tongue. It had indeed been a trying day for her, and this masked weirdo's appearance had only compounded her frustrations. But the fury in her chest was rekindled by a single sight: he grinned.

And of course, unbeknownst to all but Shadow himself, that subtle grin was not intended to belittle the feline-person. Nah, Cid was simply reveling in the sheer absurdity of the situation. Here he was indulging in grandiose fantasies, suddenly at the center of an otherworldly showdown. And what's more, his performance was achieving the desired effect.

"...You're not going to leave me be, huh…" she snarled, her teaseful voice had long since shifted into a contralto of danger. "Are you a bounty hunter just being cryptic, or someone that's really itching to be on my bad side? Are you that red Satan's lackeys?"

"I walk my own path," he declared, his words laden with a gravitas that resonated with his (somewhat made up but still applicable) core beliefs. "I am unaffected by the currents that shape others nor the paths that others chose for themselves."

Kuroka scowled. The convoluted riddles were fraying her patience. "I'm going to put you through hell."

"You're not the first to try and test me," Shadow responded with unwavering confidence as the violet flames before his eyes and his rebar intensified. "And you won't be the last."

Issei's eyes widened, a cocktail of awe and excitement swirling within him. In his mind, he couldn't help but exclaim, 'Oh my god, he's so freaking cool.'

"...Rrrghh…" Kuroka started to reconsider her situation. She hated to admit it; but his statement sent shivers down her spine. It made her tails bristle. They never bristle unless things were really, really bad.

Amidst the tense atmosphere, Issei found himself subtly nodding in agreement with Shadow's words, even though the enigmatic newcomer wasn't aware of his fanboy moment. Shadow's demeanor wasn't just charismatic; it was like watching a phoenix rise from the ashes of a well-cooked marshmallow—undeniably captivating. Issei couldn't help but feel a surge of respect for this mysterious newcomer who had effortlessly strolled into their supernatural standoff.

For Issei, watching Shadow face off against Kuroka was more than just witnessing a confrontation—it was an inspiration. Seeing someone stand tall in the face of danger, unflinching and resolute had ignited a bonfire within Issei that would blaze for ages. A desire to be just as unyielding, as fearless as this shadowy maestro of cryptic coolness.

"Get her, Shadow-guy-man!" Issei couldn't contain his excitement, his voice rising as he punctuated each word with the zeal of a stadium full of fans. He couldn't resist throwing in an encouraging fist pump and a gauntlet-clad salute, the sheer adrenaline of the moment compelling him to become Shadow's unofficial hype-man. "Kick her ass!"

Yet, amidst his fervor, Issei's excitement got tempered by a burst of caution. He darted a glance toward Koneko, whose expression seemed stuck at a crossroads between "I'm confused" and "I could glare at you for days." It was a look so perplexing that Issei wondered if Koneko herself knew how she felt.

"…But maybe hold back a little," Issei said thoughtfully, keeping the volume down a notch while still addressing Shadow, "because she is Koneko-chan's sister, and I know this is a tall order, but I don't think Koneko-chan wants to see her own sister getting hurt too much either… But other than that, kick her ass! You can do it, Shadow!" With his encouragement well-balanced between enthusiasm and empathy, Issei flashed a thumbs-up, a reassuring grin plastered on his face. He was ready to see the epic showdown unfold while staying considerate of the family drama at play.

Well, well, well, it seems I've landed myself a supporter. Issei, my man, your hypeman services are duly appreciated. Your enthusiasm won't go unnoticed or unrewarded. Expect me to pop in occasionally when you're around, because who doesn't love having a hypeman? It's like having your theme music follow you everywhere you go.

And speaking of Issei and his crew, it's hard not to notice that they're all main-character material. You've got the fiery redhead Devil, the giant ribbon-wielding thunder girl, that flashy handsome swordsman that might as well star in his own shounen series, and a pint-sized powerhouse with a heart made of glass. Even Issei himself, given enough time, might just become the star of this show. They're a walking cast of Named Characters, and I, Shadow, will be the observer in their shadows.

I made the right call exposing myself to them.

That didn't sound right, let me rephrase it— I made the right to announce Shadow's presence before them. I get to leech off their misadventures!

Therefore, I am happy to announce that everything is going according to plan… even if that plan happens to be as unpredictable as a cat on a catnip binge.

I won't lie; I was secretly hoping that miss cat-lady over there would turn tail and bolt, instead of giving me the stink-eye. She had all the classic signs of a First Arc Villain—just missing the dramatic monologue, really. You know the type: they show up early in the story, wreak havoc, effortlessly overpower the heroes, and then, just when things are heating up, they dramatically up and bounce. It's like Villain 101.

Whatever reason it may be; they just leave. Maybe they don't consider the heroes worthy enough, or they long for an epic battle and know only the hero's party can grant them such glory, or they're just too stupid. Any reason that can extend the story instead of the heroes getting wiped out at like chapter four out of a hundred.

I mean, she's sweating. Those are sweat on her face and chest and arms and legs — and those ain't made of magic. Just purely clear, salty liquid produced by glands in our skin. I'm producing those as well. This might be night time but goddammit if this getup isn't cooking me alive. Lucky me, I'm not a heavy sweater and deodorants agree with me.

Why am I fixating on sweat? Well, it's a telltale sign that she's either exhausted or dumbfounded. Ideally, a combination of both would've sent her scurrying, boosting my coolness factor by at least ten points.

C'mon. I make my grand entrance, and the main baddie high-tails it out of there. How epic would that be?

But alas, it seems I'm in for a proper showdown.

And, call me crazy, but I'm actually excited about it. Not only do I get to test my powers against a high-ranking opponent in this world, but I've also got a live audience (MOST IMPORTANT PART), and there are three of them! Not one, not two, but three witnesses to my inevitable awesomeness. Okay, could've been five, but the girl and that sword-guy on the ground doesn't count, but hey, I'll take what I can get.

Everything is going swimmingly — I just have to make sure I don't fuck up my battle.

"Doesn't matter!" Kuroka growled, her inner beastly instincts starting to unveil as she grew more angrier, the flames around her reflecting her building rage. "I'll tear your mouth first, and then you all will follow suit!"

Oh, she's summoning her flames again. It's gonna start now. It's happening. Calm down Cid, it's happening!

I can't help but grin beneath my shadowy exterior. It's showtime, baby! My first major combat in this world, and I'm ready to knock it out of the park. Is it messed up that I'm excited to bash a catgirl with a rebar? Maybe. Do I care? Not one bit. She's here to kill me, and I'm not about to let that happen.

I have a lot of stuff I wanna do in this world, miss catwoman.

Going ham on someone is one of them.

But before that, it's time for a killer one-liner.

"Very well then…" Shadow muttered with a feigned tone of disappointment, as if he had hoped for a more peaceful resolution. He was playing the role of the reluctant combatant, all part of the dramatic performance Cid had orchestrated. "Shall we begin?"

Having enough of his bullshit, Kuroka blitzed forward, her movements blurring into a tornado of black and purple. Her hands crackled with mystical white flames, a manifestation of her Ki.

Shadow merely smiled, closed his eyes, and took a single step forward.

Before his boot could touch the ground, he vanished.

The instant disappearance left behind a bewildered Kuroka and a trio of equally astonished onlookers. Rias, Koneko, and Issei exchanged perplexed glances, their eyes darting around the empty space where Shadow had stood just moments ago.

Kuroka's surprise was evident, her momentum came to a screeching halt as she scanned her surroundings, a perplexed furrow marring her features, which shifted rapidly from confusion to annoyance. She couldn't sense him. Why couldn't she sense him?!

But hidden in the dark corner of the ruined warehouse, Cid reveled in the astonishment he had scored. A grin tugged at the corners of his lips as he watched their reactions unfold like a carefully scripted drama. His heart raced with exhilaration and amusement, and he patted himself on the back for executing this unexpected twist so flawlessly.

Then, with a flourish that would have made master illusionists envious, Shadow reappeared behind Kuroka. His mundane rebar, wreathed in its wispy violet flames, rested casually against his shoulder, purposely angled diagonally across his hooded head to create an image of nonchalant power.

When his voice finally broke the silence, held a playful edge. "Last chance to change your mind."

Kuroka's eyes widened in realization. Shadow hadn't turned invisible; he had truly vanished into thin air, leaving her bewildered and wary. With an imperceptible twitch of her fingers, she unleashed purple flames across the space where he had been moments ago, her eyes broadening in response to his taunt. The surprise that had briefly clouded her features was replaced with renewed anger, only to be completely swept away again by sheer shock as he was no longer there.

Of course, he was standing behind her again. "...So be it…"

With a swift swing, Shadow brandished his blunt weapon, but Kuroka's feline reflexes saved her face from the punishing strike. Instead, the rebar collided with her forearm, eliciting a hiss of pain. She quickly retreated, creating a safe distance between herself and Shadow, who remained rooted in place, a picture of nonchalance as he observed her.

Kuroka's Youjutsu surged once more, casting a shroud of illusions around them. She created duplicates of herself, sending them darting towards Shadow in an attempt to bewilder and outmaneuver him.

But Shadow's experiences within the Shadow Dimension granted him an advantage that defied her attempts at trickery. Shifting in for just a several seconds that he appeared to have 'glitched' in the real world, Cid had perceived the subtle shifts in magical essence that gave the illusions away. The genuine Kuroka, her aura a blazing purple hue, was unmistakable amidst the deceptive images with their paltry pinkish radiance.

As her illusions danced around them, Shadow's lips curled into a knowing smile. He took a step forward, his rebar poised for action. Then, with an almost theatrical flair, he disappeared once more, vanishing into the hidden realm of his Shadow Dimension.

The Devils watched in breathless anticipation, their amazement mingling with newfound respect for the mysterious figure who had burst into their lives like an uninvited guest.

Their reactions were exactly as Cid had desired. He had crafted this performance with precision and had them wrapped around his shadowy finger.

Just as swiftly as he had vanished, Shadow reappeared, this time standing beside Kuroka, his voice a cool whisper. "You can't hide from someone who knows the shadows."

Kuroka's eyes widened in realization, her illusions unraveling as she turned to face him once more. Gritting her teeth, Kuroka dissipated her purple flames and focused all her energy into her hands, causing her Ki to blaze radiantly. With a beastly growl, she struck with blinding speed, her movements a deadly dance that had lost her earlier elegance, just pure raw rage converted into slashes and attempts at ripping his mask and face off.

Expecting another vanishing act from her elusive adversary, Kuroka was taken aback as Shadow deftly countered her relentless assault. His movements were a dance of evasion and retaliation, a fluid symphony of skill and agility. He sidestepped, weaved, and blocked with his makeshift rebar weapon, always ready to taunt her with that infuriating smirk before gracefully slipping out of her reach.

Oddly enough, Cid felt a wave of déjà vu, though he'd never allow a flicker of familiarity to sweep him away from his meticulously choreographed performance.

"How does it feel to be on the receiving end?" he quipped, the playful mockery in his voice.

"RrrraaaAAAAAH!" Kuroka's enraged scream pierced the air, her narrowed pupils resembling furious slits. "SHADOW!"

With a roar, she had finally completely lost herself in her rage and frustration — unaware of her sister's terrified look, as though Koneko was reliving a nightmare.

So anyway, before I explain why I'm so excited and so damn good at close quarter combat and why I have read, watched, practiced dozens of martial arts, let me give you a sneak peek into this world where I've found myself, this world brimming with Devils and catgirls. It's a real kicker, so pay attention.

Picture this: it's ridiculously peaceful, like a meditation retreat for world politics. I'm talking about tranquility levels that would put a sleeping kitten to shame.

There hasn't been a major war here for nearly a millennium. Hitler? Oh, he's famous in this world too, but for his art, not his, well, you know...history. Japan's never seen the horrors of nuclear warfare, Chernobyl's just a word they can't spell, and Crimea is snugly part of Ukraine. Children in Africa don't go to bed hungry. Girls in Afghanistan don't face stoning for choosing not to wear a hijab. China isn't pointing fingers at Japan for things they didn't do, and there's no North Korea or South Korea, just Korea.

And as for military forces, they all go by the friendly moniker of Defense Forces. It's all defense, no offense. No one's imposing ideologies or religions with an iron fist.

Why am I boring you with these details? Ah, I see you still don't get it.

It's because this world's serenity is directly proportional to its lack of preparedness for the rough and tumble. It's like a place that hardly ever sees rain, and when it does, they're like, "Eh, let's grab an umbrella, I guess." They're not ready for a storm, not even a drizzle.

Maybe it's the secret work of supernatural forces, subtly puppeteering humanity from behind the curtains. The humans here are as mild as a cup of chamomile tea. I happened to pass by the Kendo Club's practice once (not peeping), and while their technique seemed familiar, it was... how shall I put it without sounding cocky... less polished?

There's a lot of flair, a lot of showmanship, but they're missing the core essence. It's like they're doing kendo to look cool at a party, not because they might need to fend off an actual sword-wielding maniac someday e.g. me.

Now, let's talk about my mastery of martial arts. It's not because I'm some secret action hero in this world; it's because my world is a rough neighborhood. Muggings happen like clockwork, my friend, and I have zero intentions of becoming a statistic. It all started innocently enough—I thought, "I'll just learn one martial art, you know, just in case." But then paranoia crept in. What if my potential mugger knows the same martial art? So, I kept adding to my repertoire. It became a cycle of over-worrying and over-preparing.

Wing Chun, Jiu Jitsu, Aikido, Judo, Krav Maga, MMA, Kickboxing—heck, I even dabbled in interpretive dance to keep them guessing. I attended classes undercover, never letting on to my real-life friends (which is pretty easy because I didn't have a lot of them as a Mob). Since my arrival in this fun-world, I've continued my clandestine training, always alone, never in front of an audience, fighting my own shadow, smacking a poor innocent tree in the park.

A Mob's hobbies are supposed to be mind-numbingly mundane, like watching paint dry, munching crayons, or collecting rocks. Or binge-watching YouTube videos.

But all that secrecy became irrelevant when I stumbled upon this marvelous alternate dimension aptly named Shadow Dimension. And now, ladies and gentlemen, for the first time ever, I get to flaunt my skills in front of a live audience!

Be honored, Kuroko! For you shall be my sandbag.

Now, let's start by peeling off this layer of Mana from you. This might take a moment, kind of like trying to separate cotton candy from its stick...

Shadow reappeared on the opposite side, but Kuroka was ready for him. Her claws, meant to land with devastating force, met only empty air as Shadow effortlessly dodged her attack. He moved like a phantom, his every movement calculated to avoid her blows, his faint smirk never leaving his masked face. Then, with a calculated twist of his body, he materialized behind her.

Before she could even react, his rebar struck with alarming accuracy right where her protective barrier had abruptly vanished. The shock of the impact rippled through her wrist, and she winced in agonizing pain. Then before she could register how she was suddenly left armorless, a series of precise blows shook her, and the alley resounded with the impact of his strikes, and Kuroka found herself driven back with each hit, the force of the blows battering against her like a relentless storm.

"Kgh—!" She grunted with each parry, but Shadow's movements were swift and elusive. He vanished and reappeared at her blind spots, exploiting her defenses with ruthless efficiency. "Why you—!"

A rebar to her face wrenched her gaze away. Her legs threatened to buckle under the immense force of the impact. With a resounding strike, Shadow delivered a finishing blow that sent Kuroka crashing to the ground. Her Ki flickered, exhausted and defeated. What was once a battle of equals, a clash of power and technique, had transformed into a one-sided exchange that left her battered and breathless.

She struggled to find her footing, gasping for breath as her confidence wavered. Shadow's calculated maneuvers had turned the tide dramatically, reducing her formidable skills to a futile struggle against an opponent who not only knew how to fight, but was thirsty for it.

Fueled by her indomitable spirit, Kuroka staggered back to her feet, determination blazing in her eyes. She lunged at Shadow with a feral growl, clawed hands poised for a vicious counterattack. In a lightning-fast response, Shadow intercepted her assault with brutal efficiency. His rebar, encased in eerie violet flames, became an instrument of merciless punishment. With bone-crushing force, he struck her down once more, the impact so brutal that it sent shockwaves of agony coursing through her body that made the Devils wince from secondhand pain.

"Hrk—agh!" Kuroka's defiant roar turned into a guttural cough, blood spraying from her lips as she crumpled to the ground, yet again.

.

In under three short minutes, her once-confident stance had been completely replaced with a posture that spoke of exhaustion and pain. A series of bruised and reddened patches marked where Shadow's strikes had landed. Blood marred her appearance, staining her torn clothing in dark, ominous hues. Crimson streaks painted a subtle contrast against the black fabric, evidence of the strikes that had landed with brutal force. Her skin, once flawless, now bore the marks of her battle—a canvas of bruises and abrasions.

One hand desperately clung to her side, where a deep gash oozed blood, the scarlet liquid staining her trembling fingers as she tried to stem the flow. The fabric around the injury was soaked through, the scarlet hue a jarring reminder of her resilience and the futility of it. Her ebony hair, once meticulously styled, now hung loose and unkempt, cascading down her back in a tangled mess.

A vicious cut on her brow allowed blood to trickle down, matting her locks and obscuring her vision. Her once-clear eyes, brimming with determination, were now clouded with fatigue and pain, even the anger that had fueled her earlier had faded, leaving her with an exhausted, strained gaze.

Her chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, each inhale a struggle against the pain that coursed through her body.

If those Devils could keep getting up for her then so must she, Kuroka had told herself.

And that she did. Despite the toll on her body, Kuroka's gaze remained unyielding, her determination still burning brightly within her eyes. The battle might have taken its toll, but her spirit remained unbroken. Her eyes still burned with defiance.

"...That…all you got…?"

She dared, but everyone knew the battle was over and this was the aftermath of the battle unfolding in the moonlit warehouse.

Shadow didn't move. Cid firmly believed in dramatic standoff just as much as he valued dramatic entrances. To the observers, it seemed as though he refused to let Kuroka's battered state lead him to assume victory.

Witnessing her sister's battered and bruised form, Koneko's emotions welled up in a silent plea.

"Please... stop…" Her voice trembled as tears cascaded down her cheeks, a fragile entreaty for the violence to cease. She reached out to her sister and the enigmatic figure who had unexpectedly intervened, silently begging for this relentless brutality to end.

It was a plea born of love and concern, and Rias realized it. She turned her gaze towards Koneko, and her heart bled for the young Devil. She had seen those eyes before; back when they first met, back to a time when Sirzechs brought with him a scared young Nekomata. In that moment, the weight of her shared history with Kuroka and sisterly bond hung heavy in the air, a reminder that even amidst the chaos and the betrayal, they were still sisters.

She addressed Shadow, her words chosen with care to avoid causing offense. "Shadow... Sir... I think... this is enough..."

"..." She made a mistake if she thought Shadow could hear her yards away. Cid wanted to ask what the hell she was mumbling about but couldn't for reasons obvious; he couldn't just turn around and say 'HUH? WAT?!'

And of course Rias mistook his lack of response as something deeper than it really was.

Thus Shadow stood there, unmoving, his crimson eyes never leaving Kuroka's as Cid thought of his next lines. The situation was so intense that even the night owls perched on the nearby windowsills stopped hooting to see what's up.

As the standstill persisted, Kuroka, still gasping for breath and nursing her battered body, voiced her frustration amidst the tense atmosphere. "Hah… ha… why… did you… have to… get in my way…"

"You've lost yourself," he simply pointed out, spitballing a little. She really did lose herself back there, and, if he was to be honest, he was hoping for a bit more. It felt like he was fighting against a catwoman-sized bear rather than an agile huntress of the night.

"The fuck are you on… you weirdo…" Kuroka seethed, staggering forward like a marionette with tangled strings, her fury unabated, while the night crows on the windowsills wondered if they should start charging admission.

"The path you're on, the choices you've made—they're leading you down a dark road," Shadow surmised, never moving as she lurched towards him. "A road that threatens to consume the very essence of who you once were."

Kuroka's eyes flashed with a volatile mix of anger and skepticism. "You think… you know me?"

"I don't know you," Shadow admitted, his tone holding a trace of sadness. It was like listening to a character in a Shakespearean tragedy lament their fate. "But I know enough to recognize when someone has lost sight of their true self. I've seen it before, in others. And in myself."

Kuroka's defenses wavered, a hint of vulnerability flickering within her eyes. She had always been a fighter, driven by her own goals and desires. But in that moment, faced with Shadow's unflinching assessment, she couldn't deny the turmoil that had clouded her path. She knew that she hadn't always been like this. Remembered that there was once a time when Shirone looked up to her with love and admiration, instead of fear and disgust.

She only wanted it back. Was that too much to ask?

"Why does it matter to you?" she questioned, her voice softer now, tinged with a touch of uncertainty. "Urgh… dammit… why am I even talking to you… you wear a mask."

"Don't we all?"

Kuroka scowled. Yet again. "Alright whatever Mr. Poignant."

'Yikes,' Cid thought whilst Shadow maintained his cool. 'She's snappy.'

But the tension wasn't over. Kuroka seemed to be on the brink of collapse, her entire body visibly shaking as she clung desperately to her last shreds of strength. Her voice quivered as she continued, "Well, what're you gonna do…? I know I can't outrun you. Tired of running anyway… Honestly, just tired of… everything…"

With the adrenaline gone, her exhaustion finally caught up with her. Her body, battered and bruised from the battle, could no longer support itself despite her persistence and stubborn pride. With a sudden and unexpected falter, her strength gave way, and Kuroka crumbled.

'Shit, did I hit her too much? Sorry lady. I kinda went overboard there.'

His arms, unexpectedly strong and robust, encircled her before she met the ground, catching her. Warmth found her instead of the cold, uncaring ground. His movements were swift and sure, his demeanor shifting from enigmatic to protective in an instant. He held her gently yet securely, his grip a silent reassurance amidst the chaos that surrounded them.

Kuroka sighed as the reality of the moment sank in. Her body sagged against him, her form weakened by the toll of the battle. She looked up at Shadow, a tired surprise and contempt in her gaze.

"Piss off, jackass… Let me go," she growled, her voice laced with defiance. "I don't need your pity."

"This isn't pity," Shadow, still in 'philosopher in a mask' mode, didn't seem fazed by her defiance. His response was calm and measured, his grip gentle but unwavering. "Rather, an offer for you to reconsider your path."

Kuroka's features contorted with a mixture of disbelief and resentment. "Reconsider? You're gonna make me puke… You think you can just swoop in and save me from myself?"

Her sarcasm was as sharp as a cat's claw, and her pride refused to let her admit her vulnerability, even in this moment of exhaustion and distress.

Shadow, never one to let a moment of drama go to waste, responded with an air of cryptic wisdom. "I'm not here to save you."

"Put me in jail again then, huh...?" Kuroka sighed, her voice heavy with resignation. She grunted in pain, her body weary and battered from the intense battle. Finally, she collapsed onto Shadow like a ragdoll cat, her defiance giving way to exhaustion. "Just end me here. I'm fed up with being chased and caged."

"That's not what I'm here for either."

"...Then hell do you want? Just show up and ruin my night?"

'Har har, payback's a bitch isn't it? Next time, don't steal my spotlight… Although because you stole it, now I got a bigger one.' Cid reconsidered for a moment as he glanced over to his 'audiences'. He noted that they were consoling the tiny one, all looking at him with a palpable anxiousness. 'Alright, show's over.' Cid had decided, having his fill. 'Time for closure.'

"As I've said," Shadow reiterated, his tone measured, "I'm here to guide those who have lost their way."

Kuroka couldn't resist a parting shot, her sarcasm cutting through the tension. "So you do want to play hero and save me. How romantic."

'Sheesh— you're pretty sassy for someone so bloodied, aren't you missy?' Cid might have gotten annoyed with her, but Shadow remained unperturbed. "The only one that can save you is yourself."

"...I fucking hate you…" Her voice was laced with bitterness as she asked the question that had been gnawing at her. "Why…? Why bother with me?"

"Your sister still believes in you." His response was filled with understanding, and his crimson eyes held a depth that caught her off guard.

Her defiant facade faltered momentarily, a flicker of vulnerability crossing her features. et her pride remained steadfast, and she clenched her teeth and fists in frustration. "And what if I don't want to save myself? You've no idea what I've done. I've gone too far, done too much, I tell ya… There's no point in all this… she doesn't need me anymore."

"Now who's pitying who?" Shadow couldn't resist a mild quip, though he maintained his calm demeanor.

"Ergh… shut up," Kuroka retorted, frustration etched on her face. "You think you know everything about me?"

"I don't claim to know everything," Shadow responded calmly, his voice devoid of judgment. "But I know that there's always a chance to find your way back."

Kuroka hesitated, her fiery spirit momentarily subdued. She glanced away, her voice quieter as she confessed, "...You don't get it. You've no idea what it's like to be separated from the one person who matters most."

"I'm not of this world." His response was unexpectedly personal, and his calm facade showed a hint of vulnerability. "I have been separated from everyone that mattered to me. Most or the least."

Kuroka quieted almost immediately. Suddenly it made sense for her. Despite that, she still didn't want to show her weakness and instead said to him, "...Sucks to be you, I guess…"

'Girl I will DROP you.' Cid swore in his heart.

She continued, and this time, her tone shifted to one of reluctant cooperation, although she did her best to veil it with sarcasm. "...Well… where will you take me now, o savior of mine…?"

"Come again?" Shadow's response was a mixture of confusion and incredulity, mirroring Cid's inner thoughts: 'Wat.'

"You said you're gonna 'find those who have lost their way'" she repeated in a mocking tone of his voice, regretting it immediately as pain wracked her chest, forcing her to cough.

Cid had half a mind to tell her, 'See, this is why we can't have nice things.'

"Urk… ugh… Well I'm pretty lost nya~ you got me…" she sighed. "Guide me then… Or was it all just talk to sound mysteriously cool?"

It took everything in Cid not to scream because his expensive outfit had catgirl blood on it.

"...Well…whatever…" Kuroka started to wheeze, her vision rapidly draining away. Her eyes locked onto Koneko's, before looking away as she felt the tears starting to creep up. And then, in a voice that trembled with both surrender and defiance, she made a demand that blindsided him. "...I don't give a damn anymore…just…leave me here…I guess…"

Then darkness finally claimed her as she went limp in his arms.

The scene played out as if scripted—Kuroka's fainting, her plea for guidance, and Shadow's unwavering support. It was a moment of unexpected camaraderie. It was a scene that had left the onlookers in awe, completely unaware of the unexpected twist of fate that had turned a battle of wills into a partnership that neither had anticipated.

Shadow remained composed, his expression a mask of calm even as a bolt of panic shot through Cid.

Neither he had anticipated this turn of events, and while his initial words of 'finding the Lost' had led to this moment, he found himself stunlocked. This wasn't part of the script. His role was to be the mysterious, enigmatic savior who guided lost souls back onto the right path. Not the one carrying them like a sack of potatoes.

The Devils who had been observing the exchange stood in awe, unaware of the turmoil that had taken root, which Cid expressed flawlessly in just two words;

'Oh fuck.'

Oh, great. Just fantastic. Panic mode.

My mind is spinning faster than a hamster wheel on triple espresso. Guide her? Seriously? Did I accidentally slip into some hero role of a third-rate fantasy novel? I'm supposed to be the eminence in the shadows, dammit! Not a hero! As far as I'm concerned, those Devils are the heroes! They're the main characters— you're their first miniboss or something!

Screw this girl. Why does she keep photobombing my meticulously planned scenes? First she took my spotlight and now THIS?! She's not even conscious!

And what does "found her" even mean? Found her where? How in the world am I supposed to guide her? WHERE should I take her?

Maybe I should stick a "Lost and Confused" sign on her forehead.

Our dear feline friend is basically draped over me, and this is no romantic scene. It's more like a 'I've-been-beaten-to-a-pulp-and-I-need-a-human-cane' situation. Meanwhile, I'm trying to maintain my facade of confidence because, let's be real, I have about as much experience in guiding lost souls as a GPS with a faulty battery.

I sneak a quick glance at the group of wide-eyed onlookers — reveling in my glory for a bit before yet again I am brought back to reality. To them, this must look like some profound moment of bonding or whatever. Little do they know, I'm a guy whose experience in guiding someone pretty much boils down to giving directions to lost tourists.

But shit, I have to commit. I can't just let her crumple like a discarded script. So, I straighten up, trying to channel my inner guide, whatever that's supposed to be. I'm practically making mental lists of what a guide does. Give moral support? Check. Prevent her from face-planting on the pavement? Double-check. Look enigmatic and mysterious while doing it? Well, obviously. Provide a snack? Wait, scratch that. We're not on a field trip.

What else are guides supposed to say? "You're doing a smashing job, darling!"? Nah, too posh. "Lean on me"? That sounds like a song lyric, not actual advice. And don't even get me started on motivational speeches. I'm supposed to be a mastermind, not a politician or some chump who gives TEDtalks.

Invent an inspirational catchphrase? "Guiding lost catgirls, one shadow at a time!" Nah, too cheesy, even for me.

Oh right! The Devils!

And just at the right time! Here she comes— that's right, redhead, come and take her away, thank you very much.

In the dimly lit expanse of the abandoned warehouse, tension hung thick in the air as Rias approached Shadow. The surroundings seemed to mirror the inner turmoil that churned within her, casting long shadows over the scene as she arrived at her destination.

Before him stood Rias Gremory. Behind her, still bunched up around the pentagram, were the rest of her wounded and uninjured Servants, staying still on the drawn pentagram, looking with uncertainty

Cid observed the state of Rias. Most of her wounds had stopped bleeding and started to heal, a testament to the remarkable resilience of Devils. He mentally noted this development, even though it was somewhat irrelevant to his current predicament.

Her presence commanded attention despite the lingering signs of her recent loss. She appeared slightly hunched, a visible reminder of the injuries inflicted by Kuroka. Her gaze, sharp and assessing, bore a weight that matched the gravity of the situation.

Shadow's composure remained unwavering, a façade of self-assuredness masking the storm of emotions that raged within him. Cid had embarked on this course of action with a thirst of goofing off, yet the unexpected turn of events had kicked him into uncharted territory.

"Shadow," Rias addressed him, her voice a mixture of calm and understanding, "...I…do not know yet who you are… but I owe you for rescuing us…" then she spared a glance at Kuroka and her state. "...and her, I supposed…"

Cid played it cool. He gave her a disinterested, nonchalant nod along with a small hum.

"...I can take her away, but in doing so I must hand her over to the authorities… The crimes she has committed are too grave to simply be forgiven. But…" ias sighed, holding her arm gingerly. Worry and concern were stark on her face. "...I don't think Koneko would've wanted that outcome. And yet I am also well aware of how dangerous Kuroka is as she'd shown earlier…"

'...Why do I feel something bad is coming…'

"However…" she continued, meeting his crimson gaze, redder than her hair. "you were able to not only make her lose sense of herself… yet made her realize as well. You said you find those who are lost, is this what you mean?"

'Do I look like a tour guide?' But he remained silent, letting Rias draw her own conclusions. 'Imma just stand here… yeah. Uh huh. Not even gonna nod. I'll just leave it up in the air.'

"As this town's Overseer, I am also obliged to report any Lost Person to the higher ups, but I don't think it's wise to trouble you even more," she said with sincerity this time, smiling wryly. "Not after what you did."

'...Overseer? What? Ah well. I'll just nod and act like I get it. …Why am I getting a bad feeling from all this… You're gonna take her off me, aren't you? C'mon, be responsible. She's a criminal—'

"As gratitude… and… a request, I admit… Me nor my Servants won't tell a soul of what has happened here."

'Wait… wait wait. Wait wait wait— no, no, no, no, no, no, no!'

"We'll keep your identity a secret,"

'Wait, wait, wait, wait, hey! WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT—!'

"I trust that if there is anyone, you will be the one that's able to take care of her, that you can lead her back to the path she's left."

'NNNNNOOOOOOOOOO!'

The smoldering stare of his crimson eyes had intimidated Rias that she started to question her authority and decision. Meanwhile, Shadow's inner turmoil intensified. He had hoped for Rias' support, not this. Her trust placed an additional unwanted weight on his shoulders. The responsibility he had taken on now felt even more daunting, his internal panic was threatening to bubble over.

Shadow nodded, his response a silent vow to honor the trust that had been placed in him— much to Cid's agony. 'FUCK FUCK FUCK. FUCK.'

"Thank you," she replied, keeping her voice measured and composed despite her rising fear, betraying none of the chaos within her. "...We'll take our leave now. I bid you well on your… quest, I suppose. I hope we meet again."

Shadow nodded.

'FUCK YOU. YOU BITCH.' Cid screamed. 'THIS IS THE LAST TIME I PLAY THE GODDAMN HERO.'

As the Devils gathered, carrying their wounded comrades, two particular Devils expressed their thoughts about him—

First was Issei with both his thumbs raised. "Yo! Shadow! You rock dude! Badass!"

Cid couldn't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction amidst his inner turmoil. It was nice to receive some recognition, even if he couldn't fully appreciate it at the moment.

On the other hand, Koneko expressed her gratitude in her own quiet way. She looked at her sister, Kuroka, and uttered a soft, almost inaudible, "...Thank you…" Her gaze held a hope that the next time they met, there would be no fear, only reconciliation.

Cid couldn't hear shit. Koneko's voice was so soft and quiet.

With a final burst of crimson light, the Devils vanished, leaving Shadow alone in the abandoned warehouse, holding the unconscious Kuroka. His feeling of ridiculousness intensified.

In the wake of their departure, the abandoned warehouse seemed to exhale a breath it had been holding. The scene had left an indelible mark within its walls—a mark of shifting allegiances, the potential for redemption, and the unexpected ways in which paths can intersect.

And as the shadows danced in the empty space, the journey that lay ahead for Kuroka and Shadow remained a story yet to be written, full of challenges, choices, and the relentless pursuit of a chance at a better future.

'RELENTLESS PURSUIT MY ASS. YEAH RIGHT— AS IF! WHAT THE HELL AM I GONNA DO WITH HER?'

To be continued…

It's Shadow's showdown. In that he shows how down he is in beating someone up to look cool

But in the end— I get the last laugh. Get rekt Cid. You, solely, are responsible for this.
Sincerely, me, the Cock. cue Kings from Project Wingman

I demand reviews. I wrote this chapter under a week. That's gotta worth something more than temporarily raising you guys' serotonin levels as you read this, right? RIGHT? GIVE ME MY DOSAGE OF SEROTONINS. IT'S A FAIR TRADE. REEEEE

next chapter is finished, by the way