The day had only just begun at Ishiyama High, but already the chaos was simmering like a pot of overboiled instant ramen.
Chiaki Tanimura and Nene Oomura, loyal lieutenants of the Red Tails, were marching side by side down the broken asphalt road that led away from campus. Their mission was simple—or so they thought. Verify Oga Tatsumi's intentions, maybe knock him around a bit if he was lying, and report back to their leader, Aoi Kunieda, the Queen herself.
Chiaki, the short-tempered brawler with fists like sledgehammers, cracked her knuckles as she walked.
"I don't care what Kunieda-sama says. That guy's shady as hell. Dragging a baby around, beating up every delinquent he sees, smiling like it's nothing? He's up to something."
Nene, calmer but equally dangerous, adjusted the length of bandages wrapped around her wrist. "Don't jump to conclusions. Kunieda-sama told us to check the facts first. If we provoke him recklessly, we'll only bring shame on the Red Tails."
Chiaki clicked her tongue. "Tch. Shame or not, I'll pound the truth out of him if he so much as blinks funny."
Unfortunately, fate had other plans. Or perhaps, more specifically, Miwa—the scheming underling with an agenda sharper than any bokuto—had other plans.
From the cracked corner of an abandoned alleyway, the infamous MK5 emerged, grinning with their usual brand of idiotic menace. Five delinquents, each with more ego than actual fighting ability, posed dramatically as if they were heroes stepping out of a sentai show—except the color coordination was terrible, and one of them tripped over a loose rock while trying to strike his pose.
"Red Tails!" barked the self-declared leader of MK5, puffing his chest out. "Under orders of our glorious mastermind Miwa-sama, we're here to cut you down!"
Nene's brow furrowed. "Miwa again? Doesn't he ever learn?"
Chiaki cracked a grin, her fists tightening. "Good. I was getting bored. Five against two, huh? Fine by me!"
The street exploded into motion. MK5 charged with the grace of stampeding donkeys. Chiaki met them head-on, slamming her fist into the first idiot's jaw so hard his pose froze midair before he crashed into a trash can. Nene spun gracefully, her legs whipping out in a crescent kick that toppled another two at once.
But the numbers game wasn't in their favor. MK5 weren't strong, but they were persistent and more in number, and Miwa's planning had ensured they struck hard and dirty. One thug threw sand into Chiaki's eyes. Another jabbed Nene's injured wrist, reopening her barely-healed wound.
Within minutes, the two Red Tails were overwhelmed, backs against the alley wall, blood trickling from cuts and bruises.
"Dammit!" Chiaki spat, staggering to her knees. "These clowns... I'll kill them—"
Nene grabbed her arm, grimacing. "No... we'll only get Kunieda-sama involved if we fall here. Retreat..."
But retreat was no longer an option. The MK5 howled in victory, dragging the injured Red Tails toward the shadows. Their laughter echoed like hyenas celebrating over scraps, loud enough that even nearby students muttered, "Man, Miwa's making his move again..."
By the time help arrived, Chiaki and Nene had collapsed unconscious, their bodies carried to the nurse's office with whispers swirling like wildfire through Ishiyama High.
While the Red Tails were reeling from that betrayal, elsewhere a very different storm was brewing.
In the back courtyard of Ishiyama, beneath the rusted basketball hoop and a row of cracked benches, Aoi Kunieda stood tense and alert. Before her, with the air of someone who belonged to a higher plane of existence, floated Hildegarde.
Her gothic parasol was balanced lightly on her shoulder. Her golden eyes, sharp as knives, sized Aoi up from head to toe with unsettling calm. The silence stretched long enough for Aoi to clear her throat and break it.
"So... you're Hilda, right?" she asked cautiously.
Hilda gave the faintest of nods. "Correct. You must be Kunieda Aoi. The so-called 'Queen of Ishiyama'."
Aoi bristled. "I don't like that tone. What do you want from me?"
"Simple," Hilda said smoothly, twirling her parasol with an elegance that made the cracked courtyard suddenly feel like a dueling stage. "You are a candidate. It is my duty to test your worthiness."
Aoi's face heated up instantly. "C-candidate?! You mean—wait, this is about Oga, isn't it?!"
Hilda blinked. "No. It is about—"
"Whatever it is you have mistaken!" Aoi blurted, waving her hands defensively and flustered. "Whatever he said before, that whole proposal thing at the park—I-it was a misunderstanding! There's nothing between us! I mean, sure, he's... strong. And reckless. And kind of cool in that dumb, dangerous way, but—"
Her cheeks turned redder with every word, and she nearly choked on the last part. "B-but I don't like him like that!"
Hilda raised a brow. "...I wasn't talking about Oga. I was talking about the child."
But Aoi, already in the throes of her own embarrassment, didn't hear her. She tightened her grip on her bokuto and straightened her stance. "Fine. If you're here to challenge me because of him, I won't back down! I'll prove I'm not some weakling you can look down on!"
The duel began with a sound like thunder.
Aoi lunged first, bokuto slicing the air in a diagonal arc sharp enough to shatter the glass windows of the nearest classroom. Hilda deflected it casually with her parasol, the clash producing a metallic shriek that rang through the courtyard.
"You're fast," Hilda remarked calmly.
"Don't patronize me!" Aoi snapped, spinning with a flurry of strikes. Her bokuto blurred, cracking stone, slicing through benches, leaving trails like lightning.
But Hilda danced around her with infuriating ease. A tilt of her parasol here, a step there, and every one of Aoi's attacks met nothing but air. Her movements weren't just precise—they were impossibly elegant, like watching a ballerina parry cannon fire.
Narration chimed in, dry as ever: And so, another day at Ishiyama High witnessed a perfectly normal sight—a teenage girl attempting to split a noble demon maid in half with a wooden sword, while said maid countered with parasol/sword that could shame martial arts masters. Just another Tuesday.
Beel, sitting atop a nearby trash can with interest, squealed, "Dabuuuu!" and clapped his hands.
The fight escalated. Aoi managed to land a strike that cut through a steel lamppost as if it were paper. But when the dust settled, Hilda stood untouched, brushing her hair back without a single bead of sweat.
"You're spirited," she said at last, lowering her parasol. "But not enough. You are unworthy."
Aoi froze, her chest heaving from the exertion. The words hit harder than any blow. "Un... worthy?" she whispered.
"Correct. You are not fit."
The color drained from Aoi's face. Her mind, already tangled in misunderstandings, twisted the meaning completely. She's saying I'm not good enough... for Oga. It makes sense though. After all he is already married isn't he.
Her throat tightened, and she lowered her bokuto slowly. "...I understand," she muttered, trying to hide the sting in her voice. "I won't... bother him anymore."
Hilda tilted her head slightly. "Bother him? I was referring to the child. You lack the strength to be a proper mother for—"
But before she could finish, Aoi spun on her heel and stormed away, her emotions a storm of confusion, anger, and secret heartbreak.
And that was the exact moment one of her subordinates came running breathless into the courtyard. "Kunieda-sama! It's Chiaki and Nene—they've been ambushed! They're injured and in the nurse's office!"
Aoi's heart stopped.
Her grip tightened around her bokuto until her knuckles turned white. "...What did you just say?"
"They're badly hurt!" the girl sobbed. "No one knows who attacked them, but some people said... it was Oga."
The world tilted. The confusion from Hilda's duel, the embarrassment of Oga's proposal, the sting of rejection—all of it swirled into one burning conclusion.
Oga Tatsumi. The boy she couldn't get out of her head. The boy who dared drag a baby into fights. The boy who now, apparently, had hurt her most trusted comrades.
Her blood boiled, and her eyes narrowed like blades.
"Oga..." she hissed, voice trembling with fury. "You bastard. I'll make you pay."