Surprisingly, even the enchanting performance that unfolded in the clearing not only didn't hinder the peace summit but perhaps even helped the faction leaders soberly assess the current situation. Everyone present—be it angel, demon, or fallen—seemed to clearly understand: big changes are coming, and to not be left on the sidelines of history, one must change along with this world, be ready for any, even the most incredible, scenarios.
Soon enough, the remaining terrorists—those ambitious mages who fancied themselves arbiters of fate—were caught and handed over to the appropriate authorities. The agreement, sealed with signatures and magical seals, finally came into force. The first to leave the meeting place was Azazel. Judging by his signature, slightly idiotic smirk that never left his face, the leader of the fallen angels had already found himself a new "toy" that ignited an unquenchable researcher's interest in him. There was no doubt—we would hear about him soon, as individuals like him simply aren't capable of sitting idle for long.
Sirzechs Lucifer, having said goodbye to his sister Rias warmly and surprisingly touchingly for a Demon Lord, also departed for his infernal domains. Apparently, during his absence, quite a few matters requiring his immediate intervention had accumulated there.
But who really managed to surprise me was Archangel Michael. For the rest of the evening after the official part, he literally couldn't take his eyes off me. No, it wasn't that appraising look usually bestowed upon a potential ally or enemy. It was a heavy, intense gaze that made one want to shiver—as if he were trying to burn a hole in me or see my soul to the very bottom. When the faction leaders began to depart for their territories, Michael approached me and with an absolutely serious, even solemn face expressed "deepest hope" for our meeting soon. He started a song about some "great destiny," "signs from above," and other high-flown nonsense that set my teeth on edge. The most annoying part of all this was his unwavering, fanatical gaze. He sincerely believed every word he uttered, no matter how delusional it seemed from the outside. In short—a fanatic. Now it's no wonder why his entire Heavenly Chancellery and the Church as a whole are so fanatical about their faith, if they are led by such a "weirdo."
The next day, all the mess left after the "peace summit" was cleaned up. Schoolchildren, as if nothing had happened, rushed to classes, not even suspecting that just yesterday on this very spot the fates of the world were being decided, and the air trembled from an excess of magical energy.
Magic is a damn convenient thing. In just a couple of hours, all the destruction left by the raging forces was erased as if it had never existed. True, the student council members were squeezed like lemons—coordinating restoration work and eliminating magical anomalies also requires considerable strength and concentration.
Having completed another round of the territory and making sure everything was in perfect order, I headed to the student council office with one single, but very desirable thought—to take a nap on the soft couch while there was such an opportunity. Imagine my surprise when in the office I found only our president, Sona Sitri. Usually, her faithful deputy and "Queen"—Tsubaki Shinra—followed her relentlessly.
Was she waiting for me? On the impeccably clean table covered with dark green cloth stood two elegant porcelain mugs, from which rose the thin fragrant steam of freshly brewed tea, and a set chessboard. Ivory and ebony pieces seemed frozen in impatient anticipation of players.
"Thank you for your hard work, Izayoi-san," her voice, as always level and calm, today, it seemed to me, sounded with a barely perceptible, but still tangible note of... warmth? Or is it just a trick of my tired imagination? "Your help to the council, especially during yesterday's events, was invaluable. I would like to personally express my appreciation."
She paused slightly, her gaze sliding over the chessboard, lingering for a moment on the pieces.
"But before you go to rest... would you care for a game?" she elegantly gestured with a smooth movement of her hand, unobtrusively pointing to the chess army ready for battle.
I chuckled mentally, feeling familiar skepticism. Chess. Sona Sitri and her favorite method of testing, assessing, and subsequently something much more. I knew perfectly well that for her, as the heiress of one of the great demon clans, chess is not just a game. It's a way to find a worthy... partner. And the fact that she offers to play specifically with me, and in such a somewhat intimate setting, without her ubiquitous "Queen," spoke volumes. It seems I have slowly but surely moved from the category of "useful pawn member who can be used for various errands" to the category of "potential... someone else." Damn. This complicated the situation.
Internally, I sighed heavily. Playing chess with Sona is like walking through a minefield where every wrong step can lead to unpredictable consequences. Every move, every word, even a fleeting glance will be carefully analyzed and interpreted. But to refuse her now, after her words of gratitude and such a direct offer, would be frankly impolite, and, let's face it, would look cowardly. Besides, some part of me, the one that loved challenges and difficult tasks, found this situation... intriguing.
"Why not, President?" I tried to make my voice sound as casual and relaxed as possible, as if it were some insignificant trifle. "Just don't count on an easy victory. I'm not in the mood to go easy on you today."
A light, barely perceptible smile touched the corners of her lips. "I never count on an easy victory, Izayoi-san. Especially when playing with you."
We sat at the table. The first moves were made in almost complete silence, broken only by the quiet, melodic ticking of the antique clock on the wall and the barely audible tapping of pieces on the polished surface of the board. The tension in the room grew with every minute, becoming almost palpable. Sona played aggressively but calculatedly, as befits an experienced strategist. I preferred more flexible tactics, waiting for her mistakes and trying not to reveal my true intentions.
"What do you think about yesterday?" Sona asked suddenly, her voice pulling me out of thinking about the next move. She smoothly moved her queen to an attacking position. "About the summit, about... the consequences for all of us."
Her gaze was attentive, studying, penetrating, it seemed, into the very essence.
I shrugged, making a counter-move with a bishop, taking it out of harm's way. "It was noisy, that's for sure. But it seems in the end everyone was satisfied. More or less. And what do you say, President? You were in the thick of things, helping your sister, Lady Serafall."
"My sister..." Sona thought for a moment, her fingers froze over the knight piece. "Yes, for her it was very important. And she... she was very impressed by your actions during the incident, Izayoi-san. So much so that she asked to convey an invitation to you to visit our Sitri family estate. In an informal setting, of course. To get to know each other better."
Now this was getting truly interesting. And a little alarming. An invitation from Serafall Leviathan herself, one of the Four Great Satans. This isn't just a friendly gesture or an expression of gratitude. Is this... a matchmaking interview? My eyebrows involuntarily crept up, but I quickly pulled myself together, trying not to betray my surprise.
"Quite flattered by such attention from Lady Serafall," I lazily moved a pawn one square forward, creating the appearance of the insignificance of what was happening. "Convey my sincere gratitude to her. I will definitely think about her kind offer."
Sona nodded briefly, her face remained impenetrable. She showed neither surprise nor disappointment at my evasiveness. "And what are your further plans, Izayoi-san?" she continued her interrogation under the cover of a chess game. "Do you intend to continue combining studies at the academy with... active participation in the affairs of the supernatural world? Or have duties in the student council become too burdensome for you, and you are looking for something more?"
I smirked.
"Studying suits me quite well for now. And work in the council, although sometimes it takes too much time and effort, but on the whole... tolerable. Especially when there is an opportunity to take a nap on your comfortable couch. As for the 'supernatural world'... let's see where the curve leads. While I'm here, and I'm more or less okay with it."
The game continued. At first, we were practically neck and neck, exchanging pieces, creating and repelling threats. But gradually, move by move, the scales began to tip in my favor. There were fewer and fewer of Sona's pieces on the board. I saw surprise on her usually calm face being replaced by deep concentration, and then—poorly concealed tension. She clearly didn't expect such a level of play from someone whom, perhaps, she still considered partly a slacker. Her slender fingers gripped the next piece tighter before moving, and her gaze attentively, almost feverishly, darted around the board, looking for a saving option, a loophole to avoid inevitable defeat.
And then the moment came when only one, final move remained until checkmate. My knight, clamped between thumb and forefinger, froze in my hand, ready to deliver a decisive, fatal blow to her king. I looked up at Sona. She sat straight, her back was perfectly straight, but I saw her long dark eyelashes trembling barely perceptibly. Under my intent, perhaps too long gaze, a light, barely perceptible blush appeared on her cheeks, which was extremely uncharacteristic for her. She was waiting. Waiting for the inevitable.
I looked at the board again, at Sona's doomed king, then at her again. Slender, smart, incredibly strong for her age. Beautiful in her own way, especially when so focused or... embarrassed, like now. This eternal serious look of hers, which sometimes was so annoying, now, in the soft light from the window, seemed even cute. But this whole situation... her questions, her sister's invitation, this tense game, which was clearly something more than just a game...
Instead of putting the knight on the board and triumphantly declaring checkmate, I smirked my most mysterious smirk. Then, in front of a completely stunned Sona, I simply squeezed the knight piece in my fist and, without unclasping my fingers, put it into the inner pocket of my school blazer.
She stared at me uncomprehendingly, then at the empty spot on the board where my knight should have stood. Her lips parted slightly in amazement.
"What... what does this mean, Izayoi-san?" frank bewilderment was heard in her voice.
I slowly rose from the table, feeling her confused gaze on me.
"It means, President," I allowed myself another light, slightly mocking smirk, "that I'll think about it. And then I'll make my move."
Casting one last, long look at her, from which she seemed to become even more embarrassed, I turned around and leisurely left the office, leaving Sona Sitri alone, in complete confusion, in front of an unfinished chess game and with clearly more questions than answers.
...
Jin left the Student Council office, leaving Sona Sitri alone with her thoughts and the unfinished chess game. The move with the knight piece put into his pocket was impulsive but reflected his internal state—an unwillingness to get dragged into another complex game with unpredictable rules that were being imposed on him. Serafall Leviathan's invitation to visit the Sitri domain, conveyed through her sister, only intensified this feeling. He wanted something simple, understandable, perhaps even the usual boredom, but certainly not new emotional and intellectual puzzles.
He leisurely headed toward the old Occult Research Club building. After the tension of the Summit, the battle with Vali, and the mental duel with Sona, he needed a break. Rias's club, with all its bustle and "half-baked demons," as he called them to himself, seemed the least annoying option right now. At least there, one could count on the absence of hidden motives and complex intrigues.
Entering the spacious club room, Jin found an almost idyllic picture. The atmosphere was relaxed, filled with quiet laughter and carefreeness—a sharp contrast to the official restraint of the recent Summit or the tense silence of the Student Council office.
In the center of the room, on a soft carpet, Akeno and Koneko were fussing over Kuro. The coal-black rabbit with crimson-tipped ears, his familiar, was accepting affection with visible pleasure. Akeno, her face glowing with her usual sly smile, offered him a piece of cookie, which Kuro neatly took with his soft lips. Koneko, with her usual taciturnity, gently stroked his velvety fur between his ears. Kuro's ears, reacting to the attention, shimmered with soft pink light, which, as Jin had already noticed, was a sign of his extreme contentment. This scene was filled with genuine warmth and coziness.
Noticing Jin enter, Gasper Vladi, pale but already without a shadow of the former all-consuming fear, beamed. After their night training, the vampire seemed to have finally confirmed his admiration for "Aniki."
"Aniki! Jin-san!" he exclaimed joyfully, running up. His usually frightened ruby eyes now glowed with genuine enthusiasm. "When do we continue training? I'm ready! I... I'm almost not afraid now!"
Akeno, watching this scene, covered her mouth with an elegant hand, and familiar mischievous sparks flashed in her violet eyes.
"Ara-ara," she drawled in her singing, slightly mocking voice, "how strongly our little Gasper-kun has become attached to someone. Just like a chick to its mother hen."
Gasper's cheeks were instantly flooded with a deep blush. "Akeno-senpai, stop it!" he stammered embarrassedly, jumping up to her and trying to jokingly wave her off, which caused a new wave of quiet laughter from Akeno and a barely perceptible smile on Koneko's lips, who continued to methodically feed Kuro the remains of the cookie.
Watching this sincere, slightly naive bustle—the happy Kuro, the enthusiastic Gasper, Akeno's good-natured teasing—Jin felt a light, almost forgotten by himself, warm smile slide across his face. It was a fleeting feeling, but it was real—an echo of something simple and human that rarely found a response in his power-satiated soul. He felt something elusive warm up inside, dispersing the usual apathy.
And immediately, as if in response to this unbidden, unfamiliar emotion, the world around him trembled.
Jin's heart skipped a beat, and then began to beat fast and heavily—a dull, alarming thud he couldn't control. His vision blurred for a moment, the colors of the room merged into one unclear, vibrating blur. It seemed to him that the floor was slipping from under his feet, and the sounds of laughter and voices moved away, became muffled, as if he were underwater.
In this short moment of clouding before his inner gaze, like frames from a long-forgotten movie, other faces flashed. Not Rias, not Akeno, not anyone from this world. These were bright, painfully clear images of young people: a laughing girl with short brown hair, her eyes shining with mischief; a black-haired beauty stubbornly pursing her lips with a piercing gaze in which remarkable will was read; and a guy with a cheerful, slightly cheeky grin, carelessly throwing his hands behind his head, radiating self-confidence. Friends. Sakamaki Izayoi's friends. It was Jin's memory, but a completely alien longing, affection, breaking through the barriers of his consciousness.
A solitary tear slowly rolled down his cheek. Hot, real. Jin felt its wet trail but couldn't understand its cause. The emotion behind this tear—sharp, piercing longing for something irretrievably lost, for warmth he perhaps once knew but now couldn't remember—was absolutely alien to him, but incredibly strong.
'What the?..' raced through his thoughts. It wasn't just surprise. It was a cold prick of misunderstanding and nascent fear of something inside himself, something he didn't control, that lived its own life, invading his reality without warning.
The vision disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared. His vision cleared. Jin was still standing in the middle of the club room, but his fleeting smile had disappeared, replaced by an expression of deep confusion and hidden, almost animal anxiety. He felt as if he had glimpsed into someone else's soul for a moment, or, which was even scarier, into his own, but completely unfamiliar one.
The club members, laughing and joking with each other just a second ago, froze, noticing the sharp change in him. Gasper stepped back in fright, his joy instantly evaporated. Akeno stopped smiling, her gaze became attentive and slightly worried. Even Koneko, usually unperturbed, raised a surprised look of her cat eyes at him. Kuro, jumping off Koneko's knees, ran up to Jin and squeaked quietly, his ears trembling anxiously, changing color from pink to warning crimson.
"Jin-kun, is everything alright?" Akeno asked cautiously, her voice devoid of usual playfulness. Rias, if she were in the room, would surely have reacted the same way.
Jin shook his head sharply, as if chasing away a delusion. He quickly, almost furtively, wiped the tear with the back of his hand, hoping no one noticed.
"Nothing," his voice sounded a bit sharper and more abrupt than usual. "Just... thought about something."
He didn't explain anything, not wanting to show his vulnerability or the confusion raging inside him. But a storm was raging inside him. This was something new, something beyond his understanding of power or boredom. It was a touch to the very essence of his soul, to that part of his being that was not him, but was becoming him.
The question "What the hell was that?" remained unanswered, hanging in the air with a heavy premonition. Jin stood surrounded by worried glances but immersed in his thoughts, feeling a cold shiver run down his spine. He received not just a hint, but direct, tangible proof that he is something more, or rather, different than just a human with incredible abilities in the DxD world. And this realization, frightening and inevitable, could be the beginning of his long journey to understanding himself and his true, alien nature.