The emptiness in the house found a voice. It wasn't the hum of deafening silence he had grown used to, nor the peaceful quiet of solitude. No, it was the finest, almost illusory ringing, as if somewhere in the very structure of reality, crystal was slowly vibrating, ready to shatter at any moment. This was how the air rang in the enormous, sun-drenched living room of the mansion that now rightfully belonged to him—a trophy, a payment, a golden cage.
Sunbeams, piercing through the panoramic floor-to-ceiling windows, drew perfect golden stripes on the ice-cold marble floor. Myriads of dust motes danced lazily in these pillars of light, silent witnesses to his seclusion. Izayoi Jin stood barefoot on the smooth stone, and the cold seeping through his skin was one of the few real sensations capable of breaking through the viscous apathy that shrouded his consciousness.
He looked at his reflection in the tall, dark wood of an antique cabinet, polished to a mirror shine. The reflection didn't lie—it showed a young man with blond, slightly disheveled hair and piercing violet eyes. A strong, perfectly built body where every muscle was carved with unnatural perfection, like a statue of an ancient god of war. The appearance of Sakamaki Izayoi. But Jin saw deeper, beyond the flawless surface. He saw a crack. Not on the polished wood, not on his own face, but somewhere in the very core of his being. A deep, unseen fissure spreading across his soul.
He slowly brought a hand to his cheek, fingertips freezing a millimeter from the skin. The trace of that single, incomprehensible tear had long dried, but the phantom sensation of moisture still burned him, reminding him of the glitch. The memory of that day in the Occult Research Club was fresh and disturbing, like an unhealing wound. Akeno's cheerful laughter, Gasper's enthusiastic babble, even Kuro's contented purring as Koneko carefully stroked him—this simple, warm scene of genuine friendship had hit him with unexpected, crushing force. He hadn't felt affection, nor joy for them, but a sharp, piercing longing for faces he had never known in this world, for warmth he might have once lost in another life erased from memory.
This glitch, this emotion that didn't belong to him, was more terrifying than any enemy he had faced. More terrifying than Riser, more terrifying than Kokabiel, more terrifying even than Vali. Because the enemy was inside. And he didn't understand its nature, didn't know its rules, couldn't crush it with his absurd power. This power could break the armor of a Heavenly Dragon but was powerless against the ghost of alien memories.
Kuro silently darted out from behind his legs. The coal-black rabbit with crimson, blood-soaked ear tips took a few quick hops along a sunbeam, disrupting its geometry with his dark little figure. Then he stopped and looked at Jin with his intelligent ruby eyes, in which clear concern splashed. The familiar sensed the instability of his aura, the subtle vibration of power threatening to spiral out of control. It was as if he was asking why his master stood frozen in place like a statue, radiating waves of cold and alienation.
"Everything's fine, Long-ears," Jin muttered, and the words sounded hollow in the echoing silence. He bent down and mechanically scratched the rabbit behind the ear. Kuro trustingly nudged his wet nose into his palm, trying to ground him, to bring him back to reality. "Just thinking."
But thinking was hard. His new life, obtained in exchange for the boring and colorless old one, turned out not to be as simple as he imagined. Power capable of crushing gods required constant, grueling control. He was bound to this power like Prometheus to the rock, and now, it seemed, it began to devour not only his peace but also his personality, replacing his own "I" with something alien, more daring and dangerous.
...
In the old Occult Research Club building, on the contrary, liveliness reigned, contrasting with the dead silence of Jin's mansion.
"Alright, team, listen up!" Rias Gremory stood before her pieces, her crimson hair burning in the rays of the setting sun breaking through the high windows. Her voice carried confident, commanding notes full of enthusiasm. "We have twenty days of freedom ahead of us! And we will spend them with maximum benefit. We are heading to the Underworld, to a training camp on the Gremory estate! This will be an excellent opportunity for all of us to become stronger."
Issei immediately perked up, his eyes shining dreamily.
"Hurray! Training! And there... will there be beautiful demon maid demons with big breasts?"
"Issei," Rias interrupted him sternly, but a warm smile flickered at the corners of her lips. "We are going to train. Kiba, you can hone your new sword techniques. Akeno, for you, this is an opportunity to work with magic in an environment with high energy concentration. Koneko, Gasper, there will be special tasks for you too."
At that moment, the massive wooden door of the club creaked open, and Jin appeared on the threshold. All conversations ceased instantly. His presence always changed the atmosphere, filling it with unseen tension.
Rias smiled warmly at him, genuinely glad for his appearance.
"Jin, we were just discussing our plans. We would be glad if you came with us. Your experience would be invaluable. And I think it wouldn't hurt for you to unwind."
He looked at them silently, and cold splashed in his violet eyes. Their enthusiasm, their plans, their simple joy from the upcoming adventure... all this seemed so distant, almost childish. He couldn't go. Not now, when he wasn't sure of himself. When any strong emotion, even a positive one, could cause a new, uncontrolled glitch. The thought of this happening in front of everyone caused him almost physical rejection.
Before he could formulate a polite refusal, another figure appeared in the doorway. Sona Sitri, the student council president, accompanied by her faithful queen Tsubaki.
"Apologies for interrupting, Rias," her voice, as always, was level and businesslike, devoid of emotion. "I heard about your plans. My council and I are also heading to the Underworld for inspection and networking." She shifted her shrewd gaze to Jin, and behind her glasses, her eyes narrowed studiously. "Izayoi-san, as our consultant, your presence for analyzing security systems in clan territories would be very useful. I propose you join our delegation."
Silence hung in the room. Two invitations. Two powerful heiresses wanted to see him by their side. All eyes were fixed on Jin, waiting for his answer.
He swept them with a cold, detached gaze. He saw them—Rias with her care, Sona with her pragmatism, Issei with his naive friendliness. But an abyss lay between him and them. They fought external enemies, and he—the ghost within his soul.
"Thank you for the offers," his voice sounded level, but there was not a drop of warmth in it. It was the voice of a man building a wall. "But I must decline. Both."
Stunned silence covered the room, dense and ringing.
"But... why?" Rias was the first to find words, genuine surprise and a note of offense heard in her voice. She didn't understand. How could someone who seemed the embodiment of boredom refuse such an adventure?
"I have personal matters to deal with here," Jin answered curtly, not wanting to go into details that no one would understand anyway.
"I see," Sona said coldly, adjusting her glasses. She, unlike Rias, showed no emotion, but her shrewd gaze said that she filed this strange, illogical refusal in her mental card index on him. Another anomaly in behavior requiring analysis.
"Pity," Issei said simply, looking genuinely upset.
Jin, not wishing to continue this painful conversation, simply nodded in farewell and left the room, leaving behind a trail of bewilderment and unspoken questions. He made his choice. He chose solitude. Isolation. His cage.
That evening, the mansion seemed even bigger and emptier. The Gremory and Sitri teams had departed. Kuoh Town was empty for him. Jin wandered aimlessly through the echoing rooms, where every step resonated. Kuro trotted after him like a small black shadow, the only witness to his growing anxiety.
Jin tried to distract himself by reading one of the books taken from the Gremory library, but the lines blurred before his eyes. He couldn't concentrate. Thoughts returned to the same thing—to the crack, to the alien longing, to the feeling of losing control. Exhausted by his own thoughts, he collapsed onto the huge bed in his bedroom and almost instantly fell into a heavy, restless sleep.
And the world around changed.
In the dream, he was neither strong nor bored. In the dream, he was a doll. A porcelain doll with a flawlessly white, softly glowing heart. He stood in a gray, faceless world resembling a city from an old, faded movie. Other toys moved around—crude, iron, wooden. They played their noisy, abrupt, meaningless game.
The doll stepped toward them, driven by a simple desire to join. But they, in their clumsy bustle, without even noticing it, pushed it. The doll fell onto the gray cobblestones. And a thin, almost invisible crack ran down its smooth cheek. The first shard chipped away from its perfection. It looked up and saw that the other toys didn't even notice. They just continued their game. And the Doll felt for the first time what it was like to be alone.
The dream froze. The landscape stilled like an old photograph. Next to the crying doll, casually leaning against a crooked lamppost, he appeared—"Sakamaki Izayoi." His reflection, his strength, his curse. He looked at the broken doll with a lazy, condescending smirk.
'Naivety,' a mocking voice sounded in his head, his own, yet alien. 'You thought that if you're not like them, they'd be gentle with you? They break everything that is different. And you just stood and watched.'
Jin woke up abruptly in a cold sweat. His heart pounded wildly in his chest like a trapped bird. He sat up in bed, breathing heavily and staring into the pitch darkness of his empty room. Kuro, sleeping at his feet, immediately jumped up and, running over, nudged his wet nose into his hand, as if trying to soothe, to pull him out of the nightmare.