The sound cut straight through the silence.
Raynare stepped in first, wings spread wide, her expression relaxed like she knew exactly what she was doing. Kalawarner and Mittelt followed close behind her, equally unmasked, equally unconcerned with the tension they'd just walked into.
"Sorry we're late," Raynare said casually. "We had a few things to talk about."
Her gaze swept the room, slow and confident, before stopping on Sam.
She smiled.
The tension didn't ease—but it did change.
Sam stayed where he was. He didn't straighten. Didn't react. Whatever Raynare was looking for, she didn't comment on not finding it.
The discussion started almost immediately.
It went on longer than expected.
Voices rose and fell. Everything was phrased carefully, like no one wanted to be the first to actually start a fight.
Raynare spoke easily, confidently. Rias listened without interrupting, letting each point land before responding. When she did speak, her voice stayed calm and precise—never raised, never hurried.
Sam followed what mattered.
The rest blurred together.
Territory. Lines. Who was allowed to cross them.
Whenever the conversation drifted into procedural details, his focus slipped. Whenever Asia or his own name came up, it snapped back into place.
Eventually, the tone changed.
Rias pressed.
The attack on Sam.
The attempted kidnapping of Asia.
Freed.
Operating in Kuoh without notice. Without permission.
She never raised her voice. She didn't have to.
Kuoh belonged to the Gremory family.
That part was clear.
Raynare smiled through most of it. Deflected where she could. Minimized where she couldn't.
She didn't deny it.
From where Sam stood, it became obvious she didn't have the backing to push any harder.
The exchange shifted—not suddenly, not loudly—but inevitably.
When it ended, the result was… acceptable.
The Fallen Angels would be allowed to stay.
Not welcomed.
Not trusted.
Allowed.
Whatever Rias did, it was magical, binding, and tied to Rules that Sam didn't completely understand—and it worked.
While they remained here, they would have to listen.
Not blindly. Not absolutely.
But enough.
Supervision would follow.
Crossing the line would carry consequences.
Sam didn't dwell on how it worked. Only that it did.
They weren't leaving.
They'd still be around.
But now they were constrained.
He let his gaze drift around the room as the pressure finally eased—not gone, just loosened.
Was that so hard?
***
The conversation wound down without ceremony.
Raynare shifted first, wings folding back in with casual ease. "Well," she said lightly, "that takes care of business for now."
She turned toward the door, then paused.
"We'll be heading out," she added. "But we'll need an escort."
Her eyes slid—not to Rias, not to Akeno—but to Sam.
The look wasn't a question.
Sam answered before anyone else could.
"I'll do it."
The words were out of his mouth before he thought to reconsider them. Not because he felt pressured—but because it was easier. Cleaner. He already knew what they could do. He already knew what he could do.
Rias inhaled sharply.
"Sam," she said, turning toward him, concern threading through her voice. "That's dangerous."
He glanced back at her.
"It would be," he said calmly, "if I was weak."
The room stilled.
"I already beat them last night," he continued. "And I didn't even go all out."
Raynare's smile widened by a fraction.
Rias looked like she wanted to argue. For a moment, it seemed like she might.
Then she stopped.
Sam recognized the hesitation—not uncertainty, but realization. She was used to being obeyed. Used to command being enough. And he wasn't part of that structure.
He wasn't her subordinate.
He wasn't her piece.
He was just… here.
"Just… be careful," Rias said finally.
Sam nodded once. "I will."
Raynare turned toward the exit again, satisfied. Kalawarner and Mittelt followed without comment.
Sam started after them.
Asia took a step forward, instinctively. "Sam—"
He stopped and turned.
"Stay here," he said gently. "I've got it handled."
She hesitated, then nodded, hands tightening together as she stepped back toward the others.
Sam didn't linger.
He followed the Fallen Angels out of the clubroom, the door closing behind them with a soft, final click.
Raynare was already moving. Kalawarner and Mittelt followed her as they left the building and crossed onto the quiet school grounds.
They hadn't gone far before Sam spoke.
"You didn't need an escort," he said.
Raynare glanced back, amused. "Didn't we?"
"No," Sam replied. "So where are you going, and why ask for me?"
Raynare slowed enough to walk beside him.
"We're curious," she said. "About your holy energy."
Sam kept his eyes forward.
"It doesn't feel like Heaven's," she continued. "It isn't borrowed. It isn't granted. There's no authority behind it."
"It's mine," Sam said.
That earned a pause.
Kalawarner frowned. "Your father wasn't an angel?"
Sam's thoughts flicked somewhere distant—another life, another man.
"No."
"And your mother?" Mittelt asked.
"Human," he said. "Both of them."
Kalawarner tilted her head slightly. "A human producing holy energy entirely on his own…"
She didn't finish the thought.
Mittelt looked at him again. "Could we see it?"
"You already did," Sam said. "Last night."
"Yes," she said, unfazed. "But not like this."
He considered it, then extended his hand.
The energy gathered without resistance. Cleaner than before. Easier to shape. A faint glow settled in his palm, steady and contained.
Raynare's breath caught.
Before Sam could comment, she reached out.
Her fingers passed into the light.
Nothing burned.
Nothing rejected her.
Sam watched carefully as the energy seeped into her—slowly, harmlessly. The amount was insignificant next to what she already carried. It didn't cleanse her. Didn't change her.
But it didn't resist her either.
That was worth remembering.
A thought surfaced—brief, half-formed.
Could I—
He let it go.
If something like that ever happened, it would be a choice. Nothing forced. Nothing assumed.
Asia had chosen.
This wasn't that.
Raynare withdrew her hand, eyes bright. Kalawarner turned away, jaw tight. Mittelt flushed, but didn't look down.
They reached the edge of the school grounds.
Sam stopped.
"That's far enough," he said. "I'm not walking you to wherever you're staying."
Raynare smiled. It didn't bother her.
"As long as you listen to Rias," Sam went on, "I don't mind seeing you around."
His gaze moved between them.
"You seem attached already."
Mittelt's face warmed further. Kalawarner turned fully away.
Raynare didn't bother hiding it. "I am."
Sam exhaled.
"Don't try to kill any of my friends again," he said. "You get forgiven once."
Raynare's smile sharpened.
"Understood."
Sam waited until they disappeared from sight, then turned back toward the school.
***
The rest of Saturday passed without incident.
So did Sunday.
By the time Monday arrived and Kuoh Academy resumed, several days slipped by faster than Sam expected. Not because anything dramatic happened—but because nothing did.
Classes resumed. Schedules stabilized. Life kept moving.
Quietly.
The Fallen Angels were still there.
They attended Kuoh Academy under their aliases as if nothing had changed, as if negotiations hadn't taken place, as if lines hadn't been drawn. Their presence remained steady, unchallenged, and—strangely—normalized.
Everyone fell into a rhythm.
Days began to resemble how things had been before the situation with the Fallen Angels had surfaced at all.
That was what bothered Sam.
Whenever he was alone with Asia, there was tension.
It wasn't loud. It wasn't spoken. It didn't explode into words or confessions. It simply existed—noticeable and persistent, hovering just beneath every quiet moment they shared.
And neither of them addressed it.
His free time disappeared almost entirely.
Not forcibly. Not unpleasantly. Just… claimed.
The girls involved themselves in it constantly—study time, walks, conversations, meals, sparring. There was rarely a moment where he wasn't accompanied by at least one of them. He wasn't against it. If anything, he appreciated the company.
Still, it was odd.
He had almost no time to train alone anymore.
At one point, he had to stop Akeno from entering the bath with him.
He'd locked the door before she could get in.
The memory lingered in the back of his mind—not because of what almost happened, but because of how casually close it had been.
Sparring continued as usual.
Whenever Sam sparred with Koneko, he felt it.
Not hostility. Not competition.
Testing.
She probed his timing, his reactions, his limits—subtle, deliberate pressure applied again and again. Whatever she was looking for, she hadn't found it yet.
Or maybe she had, and just hadn't said anything.
When Sam was around the ORC members, there was tension.
Most of the time, it wasn't just one or two of them—it was all of them. Group dynamics tightened, conversations shifted, attention lingered longer than it used to.
In class, Sam noticed Rias and Akeno stealing glances at him.
That part wasn't new.
What was new was the feeling that accompanied it.
Through Empath, he felt the difference immediately.
They weren't just watching him anymore.
They were studying him.
But today, Rias seemed… off.
She didn't look at him. Didn't talk to him. Once classes ended, she disappeared—either into the clubroom or straight home, vanishing into her room without explanation.
Sam noticed.
He found it odd, but didn't push.
Sometimes people just need space.
If it keeps up, I'll ask.
That night, he lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling.
Thinking back over the day.
About Rias.
I'll ask tomorrow.
The thought barely finished forming before something cold settled in his chest.
It had been quiet.
Too quiet.
…Damn it.
I just did the cliché.
Something's about to happen.
Sam rolled onto his side and tried to fall asleep.
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