"Why should I talk to you?"
Shion swung her hair dramatically, hands clinging to Soutarou's arm, pressing close.
"I only listen to Varō-sama."
"Varō?" Miwaka repeated, confusion flickering across her face.
"That was my name," Soutarou said quietly. "In my past life."
He paused, letting that settle, then his expression hardened.
"But on a serious note, why did you attack?" He turned to Shion, removing her arm from his with deliberate firmness.
She frowned, immediately wrapping her arm back around his, more insistent this time.
"Do I need a reason to attack my hunters?" Her tone was almost playful.
Soutarou paused. "No."
Miwaka took a step forward, eyes narrowing. "How do I know she isn't lying?"
"You won't," Soutarou admitted. "But I know she's not."
Miwaka stared down at the ground, hands clenching at her sides. Her expression conflicted.
"What's wrong?" Soutarou asked, voice gentler now.
"I still don't know if what I'm doing is right." The words came out strained, like she'd been holding them in. "We don't know how many people she's killed, and we're just... letting her live."
"More than a hundred!" Shion said brightly, voice dripping with pride.
Miwaka gasped, eyes widening before narrowing with burning anger. Her hand flew to her katana.
"Shion, shut up," Soutarou snapped. "You're not helping."
'She better not be planning to report me.' He watched Miwaka's expression darken. 'Not now.'
"Look at the number of people who were injured in her attack the other day. And she says she has no reason for her cruelty? She's a monster."
"I know," Soutarou said, trying to keep his voice calm. "But we can use her powers to our advantage. You'll see."
"She doesn't even show remorse for the people she hurt!" Miwaka's voice cracked slightly.
Soutarou's eyes twitched.
'I can't let her go'
"I even heard they're changing the base," Miwaka continued, frustration giving way to worry. "They're scared. Afraid maybe another attack will be launched again. Can't risk staying here."
Soutarou's head snapped up. "They're changing the base? Where?"
'No wonder I didn't see Sakura this morning.' 'They must be having a meeting. Deciding what to do next.'
If the base was relocating, it meant they were more afraid than they were letting on. It meant the demon threat was being taken seriously.
"I don't know where," Miwaka said, shaking her head. "I just overheard some workers talking. They said the command is meeting about it now."
Shion giggled softly, nuzzling against Soutarou's shoulder. "Are they running away? How pathetic. Humans always run."
"Shion," Soutarou said through gritted teeth. "Not. Helping."
She pouted but fell silent, her arms remained locked around him.
Miwaka's eyes flicked between them, the demon clinging to him like a lovesick child, and Soutarou looking increasingly exhausted by the situation.
"This is insane, I'm standing here talking to a demon who's killed hundreds of people, and she's... she's acting like a brat."
"You'll get used to it..," Soutarou said dryly.
Making Miwaka almost smile.
Then her expression sobered.
"If they're relocating, we need to be careful." She looked at him directly. "You need to keep her..."
"I know." Soutarou's voice was firm. "I'll handle it."
Soutarou stood up. "Shion. You're dismissed."
"Uh—" Shion's face crumpled immediately, tears already welling in her eyes. "You don't want me again? What do you want to do with her? She's just a..."
"Shion." His voice carried command.
"As you Wish Varō-sama..." Her voice returned more firm.
As she dissolved into the shadows. The air felt lighter without her presence and somehow heavier at the same time.
Soutarou knelt where Miwaka sat, bringing himself to her eye level.
"You need to return to your duties," he said gently. "People might get suspicious if you're gone too long. Especially if they see you with me."
Miwaka sighed. "Fine."
"Good." Soutarou smiled.
He turned, already rising. "See you later."
Then he launched himself into the air, body shooting forward with practiced grace.
His feet barely touched the ground as he propelled himself through the compound, taking the rooftop path more faster,
'Need to arrive before they finish the meeting. Or I won't know what they discussed.'
He glanced over his shoulder.
Miwaka still hadn't moved. She sat there, small and alone between the storage sheds, staring at the ground where she'd been doodling in the dirt.
The sight made his chest tighten even more.
'She should have just ran.'
He pushed harder, faster, until the compound blurred beneath him.
Soutarou boots touching down on packed earth without a sound. He stood outside the administration building,
The murmur of voices drifted through the walls muffled but urgent.
Soutarou hesitated at the door, hand hovering near the handle.
'I wonder what they say about me.' He took a deep breath, washing the smirk off his face. His expression turned serious.
Footsteps approached. He turned and saw Tomohiro.
"Thank goodness I'm not the only one early."
He said sarcastically knowing they were late.
Soutarou remained calm.
Tomohiro stood a few paces away, a medical bag slung over his shoulder, expression calm and unbothered as always.
He walked up and clapped a hand on Soutarou's shoulder.
"You're always early," Soutarou said, managing a smile despite the tension coiling in his gut.
"Habits." Tomohiro shrugged.
Tomohiro was the head of the medical ward.
So no doubt he needs to be present at the meeting.
His eyes studied Soutarou for a brief moment assessing the way healers do. "Are you feeling alright? Those ribs."
"Fine," Soutarou said quickly. "Still sore, but fine."
"Mm." Tomohiro didn't look entirely convinced, but he let it drop.
"Shall we?" He reached past Soutarou and slid the door open.
The voices inside stopped mid-sentence.
Every head in the room turned toward them.
Soutarou's breath caught for a heartbeat dozens of eyes, some curious, some dismissive, some suspicious, all fixed on him and Tomohiro as they stepped inside.
The room was packed. First Class slayers lined the walls. Squad Captains sat around a long table.
At the head of the table sat Commander Yamamoto, an older man with iron-gray hair and a face carved from stone, eyes sharp despite his age. Soutarou's adoptive father.
The two strongest captains stood at the sides of the commander.
Standing at the commander's right hand was Jojo. His expression flickered with annoyance before settling back into neutrality.
And on the commander's left hand side, leaning against the wall with arms crossed, was Sakura.
Her eyes locked onto Soutarou immediately. Relief flashed across her face, quickly followed by concern.
Commander Yamamoto gaze swept over the newcomers, expression unreadable.
"Soutarou. Tomohiro." His voice was gravelly, measured. "You're here. Good. Close the door and take a seat."
Tomohiro moved first, walking confidently to an empty chair near the medical officers. Soutarou followed, acutely aware of every eye tracking his movement.
He found a seat near the back unobtrusive, exactly where someone like him belonged.
But as he sat down, he felt it.
Jojo's eyes. Burning into the side of his head. Watching.
Soutarou kept his posture relaxed, hands folded in his lap,
'Just another meeting. Just another useless slayer attending because Yamamoto demands it.'
Commander Yamamoto's hands pressed flat against the table.
"Now that everyone is here," he said, voice carrying easily through the room, "let's discuss the situation. The demon attack yesterday was not random. And it will not be the last."
He paused, letting the weight of that statement settle.
"We are relocating the base. Effective immediately."
Murmurs rippled through the room, shock, concern, questions half-formed.
Soutarou's chest tightened again.
'Here it comes. The pivot point.'