Sam woke to the soft chime of his phone alarm.
He blinked, reached over, and shut it off before the second tone could sound. The screen went dark, leaving only the faint glow of early morning light filtering through the curtains.
Still weird no one ever brings up this phone.
He turned it over in his hand for a moment. Smooth, modern. Unlabeled. It looked completely out of place in a world that still leaned toward flip phones and bulky early smartphones. Every time he thought about it, the same conclusion surfaced.
It looks like something I had in my past life.
No one questioned it. No one commented on it. It just… existed.
Sam pushed the thought aside and rolled out of bed.
He moved through his morning routine automatically—light stretches first, working the stiffness out of his shoulders and back. Then came the familiar flow of movement as he eased into Muay Thai forms. Nothing fancy. Just repetition. Balance. Breath. Motion flowing into motion.
As his body warmed, something settled into place.
I guess this feels more than muscle memory.
This is me.
He finished with a final stretch, rolling his shoulders once more before letting his arms fall to his sides.
His stomach rumbled.
Sam exhaled through his nose. "Yeah, okay. I hear you."
My body needs way more food nowadays.
As he stood there thinking about breakfast, his mind shifted into planning mode almost automatically.
If I do that, I can load up on carbs and protein without overeating—
He paused mid-thought.
…Wait. Why do I even know that?
The answer clicked immediately.
Jack of All Trades.
A faint huff of amusement escaped him. "Right. I know how to cook now."
He glanced toward the door. "Let's see how well I can do it," he murmured. "Let's see what 'novice cooking' actually means."
Sam grabbed his dog tags, slipping them over his head, then pulled on his jacket. His shirt and pants were already on—habit more than anything. Once dressed, he stepped into the hallway.
The mansion was quiet. Too quiet.
Everyone was still asleep or holed up in their rooms. No voices. No movement. Just the soft hum of the building itself.
He headed for the kitchen.
The moment he stepped inside, he went straight for the fridge, pulling out ingredients he and Asia usually relied on for simple Japanese home-style meals. Rice. Fish. Vegetables. Familiar staples.
He grabbed his phone and unlocked it. "Let's see what else I can make."
As he scrolled through Japanese household recipes, something subtle but immediate happened.
Understanding bloomed.
Steps made sense at a glance. Ratios corrected themselves in his head. He adjusted seasoning before even reading suggestions. Ingredients he didn't have were mentally swapped for workable alternatives without hesitation. He even caught himself making small improvements—changes he knew the others would like, based on weeks of cooking alongside Asia.
Huh.
This is… kind of insane.
He gathered everything—recipe ingredients, substitutions his skill highlighted, additions informed by memory—and laid them out.
Then he started prepping.
His knife work was clean. Efficient. The blade moved with steady precision, each cut consistent. He didn't have to think about it. His hands just knew where to go, where to stop.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, swordsmanship whispered influence—angles, control, economy of motion—but he didn't dwell on it.
He didn't notice Tiche at first.
She was already there, leaning quietly against the wall, watching him work. Silent. Observant. Her eyes tracked his movements, noting the discipline in his posture, the control in his hands.
Sam remained focused on the task in front of him.
The smell of food was what brought the first interruption.
Koneko appeared without a sound, drawn in by scent alone. She padded into the kitchen, hopped up onto the counter near his prep area, and watched him with unblinking focus.
Without warning, her hand darted out toward a slice of raw salmon.
Sam reacted instantly, smacking her hand away. "That's bad for you."
Koneko glared at him.
Sam blinked. "Sorry—instinct." He hesitated, then added, "I guess devils can have raw fish…"
Maintaining eye contact the entire time, Koneko picked up the same piece of salmon and popped it into her mouth. No expression. Just quiet defiance.
Sam stared for a second, then shook his head.
Yeah. She's a cat.
Footsteps followed shortly after.
Rias and Akeno entered together, catching the tail end of the exchange.
Akeno smiled. "My, my… so early in the morning and already you're feeding your house cat?"
Koneko shot her a sharp glare.
Rias chuckled softly. "You're cooking by yourself today, Sam?"
"Eh," Sam said, turning back to the stove. "I had a few ideas. Figured I'd give it my all."
He moved fully into cooking then—pans heating, salmon sizzling, motions steady and practiced. Every so often, he set aside a small grilled piece. Koneko took each one without comment.
Yumi arrived next, drawn by the smell. "Hmm… something smells good."
She joined the others, watching quietly. Her gaze lingered on Sam's hands, his knife work.
(Yumi's thoughts)
He must've started sword training early.
Probably average talent. Maybe a bit above.
Enough to learn discipline, not enough to excel.
At some point, either he or his teacher realized it wasn't his path.
Martial arts fit him better.
Still… impressive.
Sam finished plating and set dishes out for everyone present.
When he reached Asia's usual spot, he paused.
…Asia's usually one of the first ones up.
She always helps with breakfast.
Hurried footsteps sounded from upstairs.
Asia appeared moments later, clearly rushed. Casual clothes suited for movement. Long sleeves hiding her hands. The Grimoire of the White Mage clutched to her chest. Her hair was slightly messy, brushed in a hurry. Faint shadows under her eyes told the rest of the story.
She took in the scene—and blushed hard.
"S-sorry…"
Sam smiled gently. "It's fine, Asia. Everyone deserves a break now and then." His eyes flicked briefly to the book. "Looks like you were busy studying anyway."
Her blush deepened.
Empath surged—embarrassment, affection, guilt, gratitude, flustered warmth.
The reaction to Sam's gentle smile was immediate.
Koneko froze mid-chew.
Yumi flushed faintly and looked away, surprised by her own response.
Akeno's eyes glinted. "Mmm… if you greet us like that, I might start wanting mornings even more."
Rias smiled softly. "Asia might not be the only one spoiled by that."
Tiche watched silently.
Sam broke the moment by taking the first bite of his food.
Everyone else followed.
Breakfast settled into something warm and easy. Compliments followed—quiet approval from Koneko, playful teasing from Akeno, impressed praise from Rias, shy admiration from Asia.
Afterward, Sam started clearing dishes.
Asia immediately helped. Koneko worked efficiently. The others joined in, and the kitchen was spotless in record time.
"All right," Rias said. "We're heading to the ORC clubroom. Today we need to discuss what happens next with the Fallen."
Sam grabbed his jacket.
The clubroom… so that's their official meeting place.
Convenient.
Away from the mansion and private.
He headed for the door.
Laughter followed.
"Sam," Rias said. "Where do you think you're going?"
"…You said the clubroom. Walking?"
Akeno laughed.
"That's right," Yumi said. "You haven't experienced teleportation yet."
Sam stopped. "Wait. You've been able to teleport this whole time?"
"You never complained," Akeno said sweetly.
"I didn't know it was an option!"
"We don't overuse it," Rias replied. "We're posing as human students."
"…You're posing. Asia and I are actually going to school."
"Details."
Asia hesitated. "Is teleportation dangerous?"
"Not dangerous," Akeno said, smiling. "Unless you want it to be~"
Sam frowned.
Why would you tease about teleportation being dangerous?
Isn't that, like… instant death if it goes wrong?
He glanced at Akeno again, trying to parse her meaning, but whatever she was implying sailed cleanly past him.
Rias stepped forward, summoning a glowing sigil beneath her feet. "Everyone gather close. Sam—stand beside me."
The circle flared.
Light swallowed the room.
The world snapped back into place before Sam could finish bracing himself.
Sam stumbled half a step as space settled around him, the sensation leaving his stomach briefly somewhere behind him. He planted his feet and drew in a slow breath, forcing his balance to stabilize.
Asia had grabbed his arm without thinking.
Her fingers tightened, and only then did she seem to realize what she'd done. She loosened her grip slightly—but stayed close, her shoulder brushing his.
Rias steadied him by the forearm for a brief moment. "Easy."
"Is it always like that," Sam asked as he exhaled, "or is that just a first-time thing?"
Akeno laughed softly. "Ufufu~ you get used to it."
Yumi smiled faintly. "Most people do."
Koneko blinked at him, expression unreadable, as if confused by the idea of teleportation being unpleasant at all.
Sam rolled his shoulders once, grounding himself. "Good to know."
Asia lingered beside him another second before easing back, cheeks faintly warm.
The ORC clubroom settled into familiarity.
Rias moved behind her desk, posture straight and composed. Akeno took her usual place at her side. Yumi stood nearby, relaxed but attentive. Koneko claimed a seat on the couch without ceremony.
Sam stayed where he was, near Asia. Present—but not part of the structure.
Tiche remained close, quiet as ever, eyes tracking the room without drawing attention.
Yeah, Sam thought, glancing around. This isn't my space. I'm just… here.
The atmosphere shifted, casual edges smoothing into something more formal.
Rias folded her hands. "Before the Fallen arrive, there's something we should address."
Asia straightened instinctively.
Rias's gaze softened as it settled on her. "Asia, I wanted to ask—purely as a possibility—if you'd consider joining my peerage. As my Bishop."
There was no pressure in her voice. No expectation.
Just an open question.
Asia inhaled, fingers tightening around the Grimoire of the White Mage resting against her chest.
"I… I'm really grateful," she said softly. "For everything you've done for me. Truly."
She bowed her head slightly, then lifted her gaze again, calm and steady.
"But I don't think I can."
Rias blinked. "Oh?"
Asia nodded, small but certain. "I already have a role."
She hesitated only a fraction of a second before continuing.
"I'm Sam's saint."
The room went still.
Sam felt it before he fully processed the words—the emotional pressure crashing into him all at once.
Shock. Jealousy. Surprise. A sharp spike of something competitive. Confusion, discomfort, heat. Warmth. Pride. Absolute certainty.
Empath washed over him in overlapping waves, too many to separate cleanly.
Rias's breath caught, just barely.
Akeno's smile didn't fade—but something dangerous flickered behind it.
Koneko's posture stiffened, eyes narrowing a fraction.
Yumi's eyes widened, color rising quickly to her cheeks before she looked away.
Asia stood there, calm and sincere, completely unaware of the weight her words carried. Her emotions were simple—devotion, gratitude, and quiet pride.
Tiche, by contrast, remained composed. Unmoved. As if none of this was new information.
Sam chose to remain silent.
…We're not unpacking that right now.
The shocked silence stretched—
until the clubroom doors were thrown open.