3rd Person POV
[Hyoudou Residence]
The next morning dawned brittle and grey, sunlight straining through rain-streaked windows like an afterthought. Issei lay motionless atop his rumpled sheets—eyes swollen, throat scraped raw from silent screaming.
Downstairs, the clatter of dishes carried an unfamiliar tension, each ceramic click too precise, too careful. Gorou is sitting in the kitchen, having breakfast made by his wife, like usual, but what's not like usual is what he does after that.
Usually, he would go to work at the lumberyard's main office, sorting out papers, supervising orders of woods coming in, products coming out, balancing the money flows of the lumberyards to make sure everyone is paid, him included, but it was never just paperworks, it's also guiding new recruits, teaching them the technique and supervising their works.
Now, he does nothing of that, because of the worst reason, the lumberyards are on hold, waiting for new management after the court. He knows this is just a fabrication, but it does feels like losing his job, the one that has been following him for most of his life.
The phone felt heavier than usual in Gorou's grip—not just the weight of the plastic casing, but the deliberate falseness of each word. He dialed the foremen's numbers with mechanical precision, his thumb lingering over each button just a second too long. The first ring always startled him, as if he expected someone to have already seen through the lie.
"Takamura? Yeah. Listen—" Gorou's voice caught on the word, rough like splintered wood. He cleared his throat and continued, forcing lightness into his tone that didn't reach his eyes. "We're restructuring the books. Yeah, December 13th through the 23rd. Take the teams off-site except the Hino group—they've got that Kyoto delivery."
Miki watched from the kitchen table, her fingers tightening around her cooling tea. The steam had long since dissipated, leaving the surface still and reflective—like the calm before the storm. Gorou's shoulders tensed with each response from the other end of the line, his free hand tapping an uneven rhythm against his thigh.
"—no, no, payroll's covered from emergency funds. Consider it an early Christmas bonus." The lie tasted like gasoline on his tongue. He could picture Takamura's weathered face creasing into a grin, already mentally allocating the unexpected windfall to his granddaughter's medical bills.
The next call went smoother. Ishikawa didn't ask questions—twenty years working under Gorou had taught him when to keep his mouth shut. "Tell the wife to finally fix that leaky roof," Gorou added, forcing a chuckle that cracked halfway through. The silence afterward stretched thin enough to snap.
Gorou's thumbnail worried at the fraying edge of the client ledger—the same nervous tic he'd had since his first year apprenticing under Old Man Hattori. The numbers blurred before his eyes; ¥8.3 million in deposits, ¥12.7 million in pending orders, all frozen mid-transaction like lumberjack's sawdust hanging in winter air. He reached for the rotary phone, its brass fittings gone dull with decades of use, and dialed the first number with deliberate slowness. The click of each digit echoed like an axe biting into fresh cedar.
"Morita-san," Gorou began, then immediately cleared his throat when his voice cracked. Rain tapped against the kitchen window in erratic bursts, matching the tempo of his pulse. "Regarding the shrine gates—there's been a restructuring. Ten-day delay." The lie settled between his ribs like a shard of green wood—too fresh to burn cleanly. Through the receiver came the shrill protests of Kyoto's most fastidious temple carpenter, but Gorou kept his tone smooth as planed maple. "Hai, the deposit is untouched in escrow. The hinoki planks are already air-drying under the north shed, I'd stake my professional reputation on their quality."
Miki's pen hovered over the accounting book as she cross-referenced each refund authorization. Her normally immaculate kanji wavered—the downward strokes of "¥1,450,000" bleeding slightly where her grip had tightened. Behind them, the wall clock's second hand juddered forward in fits and starts, its mechanism gummed up by decades of sawdust infiltration.
The third call nearly broke him. Old Lady Shimada's quavering "Moshi moshi" transported Gorou instantly to summers past—her grandson's wedding alcove built from Hyoudou timber, the way she'd pressed persimmon candy into Issei's palm every Obon. "The ryokan's refurbishment—" Gorou began, then choked when his throat closed around the words. Miki's hand settled on his shoulder, her wedding band pressing cold through his shirt. "We'll personally oversee the cypress bathhouse installation," he managed after a steadying breath. "Your grandson's advance payment is secured in a designated account." The silence stretched so long Gorou thought the line had disconnected until Shimada's soft "Arigato" came through, weighted with unspoken understanding.
By noon, the rotary phone's brass dial had gone warm from constant use. Gorou's thumbnail picked at the ledger's frayed edge—the same nervous tic since his apprenticeship days—while Miki tallied refunds in red ink that pooled like arterial blood across the spreadsheets. The numbers blurred: ¥28.7 million in pending orders reduced to ¥19.4 million in retained contracts, ¥9.3 million hemorrhaging into the "contingency" column.
After the calls, Miki comes to her husband "Can we....make it to the new year? If not I'll take the cooking job at Issei's school...." Gorou kisses her forehead, he then looks around, making sure Issei isn't around "Did I act too well?"
Miki exhales sharply through her nose—the same sound she makes when kneading dough too tough. Her fingers trace the rim of her teacup absently, stopping at the chip Issei made when he was eight. "Too well," she admits quietly. "I thought we're truly broke when you threw that hammer yesterday." The admission hangs between them like fresh-cut timber—too green to burn cleanly.
"We're still able to keep most of the big clients, others have agreed to the delays, lost 2 orders, nothing too major. Before the calls, I thought all of this was real as hell" He takes the key of his truck "I'm heading out to settle the terms with Abyssgard Financial Management, make sure our....damned son gets his breakfast and go to school" He kisses her once more before leaving the house.
The door clicks shut with finality. Miki exhales, her shoulders sagging as she recalls what happened since the night before, she and her husband were pulled through the deepest depth of despair when knowing the compensation, to the confusion when hearing about the fabrication of the lawyer, to the state of 2-lives now that they have agreed to fabricate the financial crisis to teach their son a lesson so that their stability can be maintained.
The door clicks shut with finality. Miki exhales, her shoulders sagging as she recalls what happened since the night before, she and her husband were pulled through the deepest depth of despair when knowing the compensation, to the confusion when hearing about the fabrication of the lawyer, to the state of 2-lives now that they have agreed to fabricate the financial crisis to teach their son a lesson so that their stability can be maintained.
She still doesn't know if this would help Issei be a better person, but she can be sure he regretted every word he said to Nami 'That's a good start' Miki thinks to herself before going upstairs to wake Issei up.
[Timeskip: Brought to you by a judge hammer slamming against a table]
[Kuoh - Juvenile Court]
The day of the lawsuit has finally arrived, Issei is sitting before the court room with his parents, it's been a week since the revelation of Issei's grave mistake, and now the time has come for him to face the consequences.
His parents sit stiffly beside him—both in formal attire to fit the atmosphere of the courtroom, but their postures tell different stories. Gorou's carpenter hands grip his knees with deliberate control. Miki, meanwhile, keeps smoothing nonexistent wrinkles from her skirt, her fingers trembling whenever the courtroom door creaks open.
Issei stares at the scuff marks on his shoes. The polish—applied by his father in silence that morning—already flakes away under his nervous picking. The scent of lemon-scented cleaner mixes with the metallic tang of fear-sweat clinging to his collar.
Sitting with them there is a lawyer his parents's hire to help reduce the verdict on their son, because from the start and the past consults with the lawyer, they have reached a conclusion that this is a sure loss for them.
[Flashback - Hyoudou Residence]
The lawyer is sitting with Issei's parents at their home, going through the case's details "I don't know how I could turn this case around for you" the lawyer said "We can argue that the victim taunted your son to say what she wanted him to say out to serve this lawsuit, but it's hard to argue that was never his original intention after finding the videos, because he was clearly in the state of mind that could say something else, yet didn't"
The lawyer sighs, putting the documents down "Not to mention Nakamura Akemi-san is fully aware of her trauma and is not reserved to talk about it, her side can argue that's her way of coping with her own trauma, and it could make the taunting point collapse if....she appears in court and talks freely about the traumatic of her past."
A sigh as the lawyer continues "Which put us at another disadvantage, public opinions. Akemi-san was raped by a group of criminals wanted by Interpol, and your son tried to use it to blackmail her, and if her side can prove that point true, it's....tough to get the people on our side, it's a luck that Juvenile Court doesn't allow lawsuits to be published."
Gorou's jaw clenches tight enough that a muscle twitches in his cheek. His hands—still rough from decades of lumberyard work despite a week of forced idleness—curl into fists on his thighs. The fabric of his dress pants wrinkles under his grip. "So what's left?" His voice sounds hollow, like an old tree trunk rotted from the inside.
"Damage control," the lawyer says briskly, flipping open a notepad. "We push for sealed juvenile records. Focus on rehabilitation programs instead of punitive measures. And—" He hesitates, tapping his pen against the table. "Prepare for media fallout. Her financial connections run deep."
Miki's fingers flutter to her throat, where her grandmother's pearl necklace sits—a wedding gift she hasn't worn in years until today. The cold beads stick slightly to her damp skin. "And if she doesn't settle?"
The lawyer doesn't answer immediately. Instead, he slides a photograph across the table—a grainy security still of Issei leaning over Nami's desk, his face twisted in a sneer the boy himself barely recognizes. The timestamp reads three minutes before the recording started. "Then we pray the judge believes he's capable of change."
[End of Flasback]
Another group arrives at the court room, that is Nakamura Akemi in formal attire and her lawyers, and there are 3 of them, all top-tier, the lawyer of Hyoudou bows his head slightly as he recognizes them all, any one of them could wipe the floor with him in court.
The Hyoudou family's lawyer—a balding man named Morimoto whose frayed cuffs and ink-stained fingers betray years of scraping by on municipal cases—swallows hard. He's spent the last three nights rehearsing arguments in his one-room apartment, voice hoarse from whispering pleas to empty chairs arranged like a courtroom.
Now, facing Nakamura's legal team—a woman in a razor-sharp pantsuit already annotating case files without looking down, a man with glacial eyes who radiates Supreme Court connections, and a third who smells like expensive cigars and closed-door settlements—Morimoto's prepared speech curdles in his throat.
Nami bows courtly to Issei's parents and the lawyer "Good day to you, Issei's parents and defening lawyer, my name is Nakamura Akemi, you can call me Nami for short" Miki nods "You're so polite, Akemi-san" she stands up to Nami "Before we go in, I must apologize...."
Morimoto stops her "Mrs Hyoudou, don't, she could be recording your apology to use it against Issei later" Gorou pulls Miki back gently "He's right"
Nami's smile doesn't waver—just shifts into something colder, like sunlight glinting off a blade as she taps something behind her ear. "How prudent." She adjusts her cufflinks—"You hired yourself quite a dedicating lawyer, that's good, you'll need it to kee your son afloat after this"
She heads into the court room with her lawyer, leaving them released from the pressure she and her lawyer exudes "That's not behaviors of a victim" Morimoto exhales sharply "That's behavior of predator" Gorou grips Miki's hand tighter.
[Court room]
Inside the courtroom, the judge is already seated. The bailiff stands. "All rise. The juvenile court is now in session. Presiding Judge Tanaka Hiroshi."
The judge looks up from his desk—a man in his sixties with reading glasses on a chain and the tired expression of someone who has seen every variation of human cruelty. His eyes move from Nami's legal team (whom he clearly recognizes), to Morimoto (whom he doesn't), and finally to the defendant.
Issei sits in the respondent's chair, looking small. His mother grips the bench in front of her so hard her knuckles are white. The judge starts "This court is now in session for the matter of 2704. The respondent is charged with blackmail and aiding in the endangerment of the victim. Before we proceed, I want to address the courtroom."
He removes his glasses, setting them on the desk with deliberate slowness. "I have reviewed the evidence submitted by both the prosecution and defense. I have also reviewed the victim's statement and the respondent's psychological evaluation. This is not a complicated case in terms of facts. The evidence is clear. Aside from some...details"
The judge then turns to the prosecution's side "I saw a point in the arguement of the defendant that Miss Nakamura Akemi has taunted Issei into saying out what he said while being recorded, and made an argument that this pressure was the cause of the unintentional admission of Issei Hyoudou"
To prove his point, he turns on the recorder Nami's side submitted to the court.
Nami: "The why showing it to me now? What do you expect to get out of me when showing me this? Sympathy? Blackmail material?"
Issei: "I just...wanted you to know that I know," he managed weakly. The words sounded pathetic even to his own ears.
Nami: "You know? Fine, you know....then what are you going to do with the fact that I was gangraped by a bunch of laughing thugs while they filmed my miserable face to share between their wretched group chat?"
Nami: "Cat got your tongue?" Nami's voice dropped an octave "Let me guess. You thought you'd have power over me. That I'd beg for you to not publish it for everyone to know, that I would even....Hell, date you? Have sex with you?...Is that what you want?"
Nami: "Be honest with yourself, Issei, the cat is already out of the bag, there is nothing left to hide now that there is only you and me here. What is your deal now that you know the part of my past that I never wanted to tell anyone, even my new family? What do you want?"
Issei: "I—" His voice cracked. "I thought...maybe..."
Nami:"...Come on, say it out.....Don't leave me waiting"
Issei: "I thought...you'd be afraid."
Issei: "I could—" Issei's voice cracked. "Send it to everyone."
Nami: "You could," Nami agreed. "Yes, that's right, you could, Issei, you could send it to everyone and ruin my new life here in Kuoh. Then what do I have to do to make you not do that? Tell me, everything is your to command"
Issei: "Senpai, I—"
Nami: "Yes?"
Nami: "Just say it, Issei, I don't want my past surfaced, and you're holding the reign"
Issei: "I want—" His voice cracked. The words tasted like rust. "You. To be mine."
The recording ends. Silence floods the courtroom like floodwater. The judge doesn't move. He stares at the audio device for a long moment, then removes his glasses entirely—not setting them down this time, but holding them, turning them over in his fingers as if examining evidence. "I see."
That's all. Two words. They hang in the air like a guillotine blade. Miki's grip on Gorou's hand loosens fractionally. Morimoto's color returns slightly.
Nami hasn't moved. Her expression is still composed, but there's a new quality to it—calculation. She's reassessing.
Her lead lawyer—the glacial-eyed man—leans close and whispers something. Nami's jaw tightens almost imperceptibly before she shakes her head, one sharp motion.
Judge Tanaka turns to the prosecution "I have a question for the prosecutor. In your initial statement, you characterized the respondent's admission as a deliberate, unprompted disclosure of predatory intent. However, this recording reveals something quite different. The victim appears to have deliberately drawn out this statement through sustained emotional pressure and explicit coaching. How do you reconcile this with your theory of calculated predation?"
Nami herself stands up "May I explain my own action?" The judge was a little surprised seeing a girl at the age of 17 being so confident "You may" he said.
Nami nods "Thank you, your honor. Now, I need to remind you all the mechanic of this kind of coersion, it's using the sense of shame, embarrassment, and fear of the victim to force them into actions the other wants so that the videos are not published. But in my own case, I had no shame for what happened to me..."
She stops to let her announcement settles, then continues "....I have no shame in what happened to me when I was helpless against a group of male criminals who were stronger than me. When it happened to me in Sweden, I was able to record their faces and from our comparisons with the data of Interpol, they are all wanted criminals from an empire of crime named Arlong in Sweden."
She takes the documents from her lawyers and handed to the Judge before continuing "And even in the videos they posted online, I did protest in every way I could, in Swedish, in English, and in actions by trying to kick them out, but I was powerless. These two facts prove that what happened to me was real—documented assault, not erotic content. Which makes Issei's perception of the situation all the more troubling."
The lawyer of Nami then handed the Judge the testimony of Nico Robin, the history teacher of Kuoh Academy, who told Issei's parents about the lawsuit against him, in it there is a sentence about Issei's view on what he found 'Issei thought it was an act in a porn movie, without any awareness of the real trauma behind it'
The judge has been reading the documents Nami presented. He doesn't look up, but his expression has shifted—harder, more focused.
Judge Tanaka sighs "So you're telling this court that you deliberately elicited a confession from the respondent in order to establish whether he understood the severity of what he'd found?"
Nami nods "I'm telling this court that I needed to understand his intentions, Your Honor. And I needed evidence of those intentions."
Judge Tanaka leans closer to look at Nami "Evidence for what purpose, Miss Nakamura?"
Nami answers confidently "To ensure he could never use those videos to hurt me or anyone else. To ensure he couldn't claim ignorance or impulse in court."
The judge sets the documents down and finally looks at her directly. "You recorded this conversation with that specific intent." It's not a question. Nami nods, unflinching. "Yes, Your Honor."
"Without his knowledge or consent." Nami doesn't flinch "In Japan, it is legal for one party to record a conversation without all parties' consent, provided it's not for illegal purposes. My purpose was self-protection, which is legal."
She's prepared for this. She knows Japanese law cold. The prosecutor shifts uncomfortably. Morimoto's brief moment of advantage has evaporated. "The court acknowledges this. However, I have another question. You are 17 years old. You survived being gang-raped and recorded. You've been through Interpol investigations. You've clearly worked with sophisticated legal counsel. And yet—"
He pauses, choosing his words with care. "—you chose to handle a potential threat from a teenage boy not by immediately reporting him to police, but by recording a confrontation designed to extract a confession. Why not report him immediately?"
This is the question that matters. This is where Nami's story either holds or cracks. "Because, Your Honor, reporting him without evidence would result in a 'he said, she said' situation. He would deny it. His lawyers would argue he was curious, not threatening. The case would be weak. By recording this conversation, I ensured that there would be no ambiguity about his intentions."
She leans forward slightly—not aggressively, but with intensity. "Additionally, Your Honor, I wanted to see if he would back down when confronted with the reality of what he'd found. When faced with a victim who wasn't ashamed—when forced to see me as a person, not a video—would he reconsider? Would he choose differently?"
"And did he?" Nami cemented her voice "No, Your Honor. He chose to threaten me. He chose to imagine coercing me. He made that choice after being confronted with the full reality of my trauma. That, in my view, is deliberate. Not impulsive."
Morimoto stands. "Your Honor, I'd like to cross-examine the witness." Judge Tanaka nods "Proceed." Morimoto walks toward her, but there's no aggression in his body language—he looks like he's approaching a minefield.
"Miss Nakamura, in the recorded conversation, you told the respondent that if he sent the videos to everyone, then, and I quote, 'tell me, everything is yours to command.' Why would you say that if you were testing his moral character?"
This is a good question. It's the one flaw in Nami's narrative. "I was establishing the parameters of what he believed he could demand. If he truly believed he had power over me, what would he ask for? What did he actually want? I needed to know the full extent of his threat assessment."
Morimoto narrows his eyes "Couldn't that be interpreted as inviting him to make demands?"
Nami doesn't faze "It could be misinterpreted that way, yes. But my recording—the full context—makes clear that I was gathering information, not consenting. If Mr. Hyoudou had asked for money, or for me to remain silent about something, those would have been additional crimes I could report. Instead, he asked for me."
She says this flatly, without self-pity. "He asked to possess me. That is the crime, Mr. Morimoto. Not the confusion or impulse—the actual desire to own another person."
The courtroom is silent. Miki's hand covers her mouth. Gorou's face has gone pale. Issei sits in the respondent's chair, staring at his hands. "I have no further questions." Morimoto sits down. He's been out-maneuvered by someone half his age, and he knows it.
Judge Tanaka stands up from his seat "The court will take a fifteen-minute recess. When we reconvene, the prosecution and defense will present their final arguments regarding whether the respondent should be transferred to adult court. The question before this court is no longer whether he committed these acts—that is established. The question is whether his age and capacity for rehabilitation outweigh the seriousness and deliberateness of his crimes."
He stands. "We will reconvene at 2:15 PM."
[Resting Room]
The resting room is small, institutional—beige walls, a table, chairs that creak. Morimoto sits alone for a moment, then Gorou enters, his face drawn.
Gorou sighs heavily "What do we do? She destroyed everything we—" Morimoto shakes his head, refusing to let go of hope "No. She showed us the path forward."
Gorou stops mid-stride. Morimoto continues, standing now, energy returning "Listen to what she actually said. She said Issei looked at her situation and thought it was 'an act in a porn movie.' She said he was ignorant. And then she said he was deliberate. But those two things can't both be entirely true."
He starts pacing—the movement of someone who's found solid ground again. "If he was truly deliberate and predatory, he would have used every tool available to him. He found videos. That's one tool. But he also found something else—he found a $200,000 bounty on her location from organized criminals."
Gorou's eyes widen. He understands immediately. "He didn't use it."
[Timeskip: Brought to you by the door leading to the court room swinging open]
[Court Room]
The courtroom reconvenes at 2:15 PM sharp. The judge enters. Everyone rises. Judge Tanaka starts "The prosecution has concluded its arguments. Miss Nakamura's legal counsel, do you have a final statement?"
The woman in the pantsuit stands. She's been silent for the last hour, watching Morimoto's strategy unfold. She's already calculated the shift in momentum.
Nami's Lead Counsel stands up "Your Honor, the defense has made eloquent arguments about restraint and adolescent impulse. We do not dispute that the respondent is young. However, we submit that youth is not an excuse for predatory behavior."
She walks to the front of the bench, each step deliberate. "The respondent discovered evidence of a serious crime. Rather than report it, he used it as a weapon against the victim. Yes, he did not escalate further. But that is not restraint, Your Honor. That is incompleteness. A predator does not become less dangerous because he hasn't yet thought of worse things to do."
She pauses, letting that sink in. "Additionally, the defense characterizes the respondent's demand—'I want you to be mine'—as a request for a girlfriend. But we submit that in the context of coercion, of threat, of leverage, those words mean something darker. They mean possession. They mean control. They mean the erasure of the victim's autonomy."
She returns to her seat. "The victim in this case has endured trauma that most adults could not survive. She survived it, rebuilt herself, and came to this court seeking protection. Not revenge. Protection. We ask this court to grant her that protection by transferring the respondent to adult court, where the severity of his crimes can be properly addressed."
She sits down. That's it. No theatrics. No emotional appeals. Just cold, legal precision. Judge Tanaka nods "Thank you. Defense counsel, you have the final word."
Morimoto stands. His suit is still rumpled. His cuffs are still frayed. But something has changed in his bearing. He's accepted the impossible nature of this case, and that acceptance has freed him to speak truth rather than win arguments.
Morimoto starts "Your Honor, I will not insult this court by pretending we can argue away what happened. The respondent, Issei Hyoudou, committed crimes. Serious crimes. He found evidence of assault and exploitation, and instead of reporting it to authorities, he used it as leverage against the victim. That is a fact that cannot be disputed, and I do not dispute it."
He walks slowly to the center of the courtroom. "What I ask this court to consider is not whether Issei committed these crimes, but what those crimes reveal about who Issei is as a person, and what he can become."
He turns to face the judge directly. "The victim's counsel is correct that youth is not an excuse. But the law recognizes that youth is a context. A 16-year-old's brain is not fully formed. The prefrontal cortex—the part of the brain responsible for judgment, impulse control, and understanding consequences—does not fully develop until the mid-20s. This is not opinion, Your Honor. This is neuroscience. This is why juvenile law exists."
He pulls out a document, holds it up. "The prosecution submitted psychological evaluations. One evaluation concludes that the respondent shows 'poor judgment and emotional dysregulation.' It does not conclude that he is a predator. It does not conclude that he is incapable of rehabilitation. It concludes that he is a confused teenager who made catastrophically poor choices."
He sets the document down. "Now, the victim's counsel made an important point. They said that the respondent's lack of escalation is not restraint—it's incompleteness. Your Honor, I respectfully disagree. I would like to point out something the victim's counsel deliberately did not mention in their closing statement."
Morimoto walks to the evidence table and picks up a folder. "When the respondent discovered the videos of Miss Nakamura, he discovered more than just evidence of sexual assault. He discovered evidence of a transnational crime. Specifically, he discovered a bounty. $200,000 USD. Offered by organized criminals for the location of the victim. This is not speculation, Your Honor. This is in the evidence. This is documented."
He holds up the folder. "Now, I want this court to understand what this means. The respondent, a 16-year-old boy, had in his possession information that was worth $200,000 to serious criminals. Information that could have genuinely endangered not only Miss Nakamura, but her entire family. Everyone around her."
He lets that sink in. "And he did not use it."
A pause. "He had leverage that could have done real harm—life-altering, potentially fatal harm. And he chose not to weaponize it. Why? Because, despite his profound confusion about reality and fantasy, despite his poor judgment about what he could do with the videos, despite his adolescent desire to impress someone he cared about—he had limits. He understood, somewhere in that developing brain, that crossing that line would be genuinely wrong."
Morimoto walks closer to Issei, then away from him—not making him the focus, but using him as a reference point. "The victim's counsel characterized the respondent's words—'I want you to be mine'—as a declaration of possession. A desire for ownership. Your Honor, I suggest a different interpretation. I suggest that what the respondent actually wanted, in his confused and misguided way, was for Miss Nakamura to see him. To notice him. To choose him."
He turns back to the judge. "Is that still blackmail? Yes. Is it still illegal? Yes. Is it still deeply harmful to the victim? Yes. But is it the same as what a predatory adult would do? Your Honor, I submit that it is not."
He returns to standing before the bench. "I will not ask this court to minimize what Issei did. I will not ask this court to excuse it. What I ask is that this court recognize the distinction between a teenage boy who made terrible choices and a dangerous predator who needs to be removed from society as an adult."
He takes a breath. "The victim deserves protection. But there are ways to protect her that do not require destroying a teenage boy's future. Juvenile court offers rehabilitation. Counseling. Education. A chance for him to understand why what he did was wrong, not just legally, but morally. A chance for him to become someone better."
Morimoto's voice drops, becomes more personal. "Your Honor, I represent a family that has lost their son to profound shame. A family that understands the harm he caused. A family that is willing to support whatever rehabilitation this court deems necessary. What I ask is that you remember that juvenile law exists for a reason—because we believe that teenagers, even those who commit serious crimes, deserve a chance at redemption."
He returns to his seat. "Thank you, Your Honor." The courtroom is utterly silent.
Judge Tanaka removes his glasses. He doesn't set them down. He holds them in his hand, looking at them as if they might contain answers. The silence stretches. No one moves. Even the bailiff is still.
Finally, the judge looks up. "Before I render my decision on the question of transfer to adult court, the respondent has requested to make a statement to the court. Issei Hyoudou, you may stand."
Issei stands slowly. His mother reaches for his arm, but he gently pulls away. He needs to do this alone. He walks to the center of the courtroom, between the prosecution's table and the defense's table. Between both sides. Neutral ground.
He does not look at Nami. He looks at the judge. When he speaks, his voice is quiet, but it carries in the silence. "Your Honor, I... I don't have fancy words like the lawyers do. I don't understand everything they said. But I understand what I did. And I need to say it."
He swallows hard. His hands are shaking. "I found those videos. And I knew—somewhere, I knew—that what was in them was real. That it was a real person in real pain. But I didn't want to know that. Because if I knew that, then what I wanted to do was wrong. So I told myself it was like a movie. Like something that wasn't real."
His voice cracks. "But that was a lie. I knew it was a lie. I just... I didn't want to face it."
He finally looks at Nami. She doesn't react, but something in her posture shifts—a subtle tightening. "Nakamura-senpai, I... I'm sorry. I'm sorry for finding those videos. I'm sorry for using them to threaten you. I'm sorry for trying to force you into something you didn't want. I'm sorry for looking at your trauma and seeing it as an opportunity."
His eyes are wet now, but he doesn't wipe them away. "You're right that I was thinking about possessing you. Not like owning a slave—I'm not smart enough to think that far. I was just thinking about having you. About you being mine in the way that... in the way I wanted. Without thinking about what you wanted. Without thinking about who you are."
He takes a shaking breath. "I can't undo what I did. I can't make the videos go away. I can't give you back the safety you had before you knew someone like me existed. But I can promise you that I will do everything the court tells me to do. I will go to whatever school or program they put me in. I will talk to whatever counselor they assign. I will work to understand why what I did was so wrong."
His voice becomes steadier, more determined.
"And I will work to become someone who doesn't think the way I was thinking. Someone who sees people instead of opportunities. Someone who understands that other people's pain isn't for me to use."
He looks at the judge again. "I know I can't ask for your forgiveness, Nakamura-senpai. I know I probably don't deserve it. But I promise you that I will spend the time however long it takes to earn it. To show you that I can be better than this. That I can be someone who wouldn't do this to anyone else."
His voice drops to barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry. I'm truly, deeply sorry." He stands there for a moment, then sits back down. His mother immediately reaches for him, pulling him close. She doesn't say anything.
Judge Tanaka takes a long moment. He puts his glasses back on. He reads something in the file in front of him. He looks at Issei. He looks at Nami. He looks at Morimoto.
"The question before this court is whether the respondent should be transferred to adult court. The prosecution argues that the seriousness and deliberateness of the crimes warrant adult prosecution. The defense argues that the respondent's age and capacity for rehabilitation should take precedence."
He closes the file slowly. "After careful consideration of all evidence, testimony, and arguments, this court has reached a decision. The court finds that while the crimes are indeed serious, the respondent's age and the absence of prior criminal history, combined with demonstrated capacity for remorse and rehabilitation, warrant juvenile jurisdiction."
Gorou's grip on Miki's hand tightens. Miki's eyes close in relief. Morimoto exhales—he didn't realize he was holding his breath.
"However, this is not a minor disposition. The respondent will be committed to Juvenile Training School for a period of four years, with intensive psychological counseling and educational programming. Upon release, he will be placed under probation supervision for three years."
The judge pauses. "Furthermore, this court orders that the respondent undergo a complete psychological evaluation and treatment plan designed to address the distorted thinking patterns that led to these crimes. Specifically, he must participate in a program designed to develop empathy and understanding of victim trauma."
He looks directly at Issei. "This court recognizes your remorse, Mr. Hyoudou. Remorse is the beginning of rehabilitation. But it is only the beginning. What comes next—the hard work of understanding yourself, of changing how you think, of becoming someone capable of genuine respect for others—that is your responsibility. This court is offering you the opportunity. What you do with it will determine your future."
He looks at Nami. "To Miss Nakamura: This court acknowledges the seriousness of your trauma and the courage you have shown in seeking justice. The respondent's commitment to juvenile detention and the ordered compensation reflect this court's recognition of the harm done to you. Additionally, this court will issue a protective order preventing any contact between the respondent and yourself, extending for a period of ten years beyond his release from detention."
He sets down his pen. "This concludes the hearing. The next session will be scheduled for the 7th January 2006 for final sentencing determination. Court is adjourned."
As the judge is about to leave the bench, Nami rises. Her lawyers immediately tense—this is not part of their strategy. The glacial-eyed man reaches for her arm, but she's already moving. "Your Honor, may I address the court?"
The courtroom, which was beginning to settle, goes still. Judge Tanaka pauses. He turns back, surprised. Victims typically don't request the floor after sentencing. "Miss Nakamura, you have already provided your statement. The court has rendered its decision."
"I understand, Your Honor. But I was not provided the opportunity to make a statement regarding the sentence itself. Only regarding the facts of the case. I would like to do so now."
Her lawyers are now actively signaling her to sit down. She ignores them. The judge considers this. It's unusual, but not unprecedented. He exchanges a look with the prosecutor, who nods slightly. "You may proceed. But be brief."
Nami walks to the center of the courtroom—the same place Issei stood moments ago. But she moves with absolute confidence, not a hint of the vulnerability he showed. "Your Honor, I want to begin by acknowledging the respondent's apology. I heard him. I believe his remorse is genuine."
She pauses, letting that land. "When I came to this court, I came seeking two things. First, I wanted justice—to ensure that the respondent understood the gravity of what he did and that it could not be repeated. Second, I came seeking protection—to ensure that I and the people around me would be safe from him."
She folds her hands in front of her. "The court's decision to deny transfer to adult court—I understand the reasoning. The respondent is young. His brain is still developing. Rehabilitation is possible. I accept this decision, even though part of me wanted to see harsher punishment."
She looks directly at Issei. "But I have realized something during these proceedings. Punishment alone does not prevent future harm. A boy locked away in a detention facility for four years, separated from society, from school, from the possibility of normal development—he may emerge worse than he entered. He may emerge bitter. He may emerge more convinced that the world is cruel and that people like me deserved what happened to them."
Morimoto looks up, confused. This is not what he expected. "I do not want that outcome. So I am proposing an alternative."
She turns to address the judge directly. "Your Honor, I propose that the respondent be allowed to continue his education at Kuoh Academy, under strict supervision. I propose that he attend school with the knowledge that both I and the school board will be monitoring his behavior, his attitudes, and his progress toward genuine rehabilitation."
The courtroom erupts in whispered conversations. This is unprecedented. "Quiet. Miss Nakamura, continue."
"Your Honor, the most dangerous thing about the respondent's crimes is that they emerged from a fundamental failure of imagination. He could not imagine my humanity. He could not imagine my suffering. He could not imagine the consequences of his actions because he has never been forced to exist in a world where those consequences matter."
She pauses. "Locking him away will not teach him those things. Isolation will not teach him empathy. But existing in a community, attending school with people he has hurt, facing every single day the reality of what he did—that might. That could."
She looks at the judge with complete certainty. "I am not forgiving him. Let me be clear. What he did is unforgivable. But I am offering him a chance to understand why it is unforgivable. I am offering him a chance to see me not as a video or an opportunity or a possession, but as a person he must live alongside. A person whose presence reminds him every single day of his capacity for cruelty."
Nami's voice drops slightly, becomes more intimate."That is a harsher sentence than detention, Your Honor. That is a sentence of daily confrontation with his own conscience. That is a sentence that requires actual change, not just time served."
She straightens."I propose that the respondent be placed under intensive probation, that he be required to continue attending Kuoh Academy, that he be assigned a school counselor for ongoing psychological treatment, and that he be required to perform community service focused on victim advocacy and education about consent and sexual assault."
She turns to face Issei's family. "I propose that this school, and I personally, will serve as his accountability. We will be watching. Every day. And if he shows any sign of returning to the patterns of thinking that led to these crimes, the court will be notified immediately."
She turns back to the judge."This allows him to continue his education. This allows him to develop as a person. This allows him to understand what he has done. And this allows the community—specifically, it allows me—to ensure that he is truly changing."
She pauses, then adds "Additionally, I request that he be ordered to write a formal apology letter to be reviewed by the court, and that he attend a victim impact seminar conducted by survivors of sexual assault and trafficking. So that he understands, intellectually and emotionally, what his actions contributed to in the larger ecosystem of harm."
She steps back. "That is my proposal, Your Honor. That is the justice I seek."
Morimoto is visibly shocked. This is not the outcome he expected, but it's infinitely better than four years of detention.
Miki has her hand over her mouth. She's crying, but this time it's different—it's relief mixed with something else. Guilt, perhaps, that her son's victim is being kinder to him than she expected.
Issei is staring at Nami with an expression that cannot be classified. Not gratitude, not yet. But understanding that he has been given something he didn't deserve.
Nami's lawyers have completely stopped trying to signal her. The glacial-eyed man is making notes. The woman in the pantsuit is looking at Nami with something like respect.
Judge Tanaka has leaned back in his chair. He's considering. The silence stretches. "Miss Nakamura, what you are proposing is extraordinarily generous. It is also extraordinarily demanding. You understand that you are essentially volunteering to serve as this young man's accountability for years to come?"
"I do, Your Honor." Judge Tanaka's face softens "And you understand that this means interacting with him on a daily basis? Seeing him in hallways, in classes, in common spaces?"
Nami nods confidently "I do." Judge Tanaka tilts his head slightly "Why would you do this?"
Nami takes a moment. This is the question that matters. "Because, Your Honor, I have spent a long time allowing what happened to me in Sweden to define me. I have allowed myself to become harder, colder, more strategic about protecting myself. That was necessary. But I do not want to become someone who destroys a teenage boy's future as punishment for his confusion. I want to become someone who can look at harm and respond with justice, not vengeance."
She meets the judge's eyes. "Additionally, Your Honor, I believe in redemption. I believe people can change. If I truly believe that, then I have a responsibility to give him the opportunity to prove it. Under supervision. With accountability. But with a chance."
The judge's face doesn't change "And if he fails that chance? If he continues to demonstrate predatory behavior?"
Nami cements her tone "Then the school will report it immediately, he will be removed from Kuoh Academy, and he will face the consequences you have determined. But I believe he will not fail. Because now he will have to face what he did every single day. And that is a more effective deterrent than any prison sentence."
The judge nods slowly. He's convinced. "The court finds Miss Nakamura's proposal to be both merciful and rigorous. Accordingly, the court modifies its previous sentence as follows:"
He sits forward, preparing to speak formally. "The respondent, Issei Hyoudou, will not be committed to a juvenile detention facility. Instead, the respondent will continue his education at Kuoh Academy under the following conditions:"
He counts on his fingers. "One: The respondent will be placed under intensive probation for a period of three years, with monthly check-ins with a probation officer specializing in adolescent rehabilitation."
"Two: The respondent will be required to attend individual psychological counseling at least once per week for the duration of his high school education, focusing specifically on developing empathy, understanding victim trauma, and examining the cognitive distortions that led to his crimes."
"Three: The respondent will be required to write a detailed apology letter to the victim, to be reviewed by the court and victim's counsel, detailing his understanding of the harm he caused and the steps he will take to prevent similar harm in the future."
"Four: The respondent will be required to attend a victim impact seminar conducted by survivors of sexual assault, to be arranged by the school and reviewed by the court."
"Five: The respondent will be required to perform 200 hours of community service focused on victim advocacy, education about consent, and support for survivors of sexual assault."
"Six: The respondent will be subject to a protective order preventing contact with the victim outside of supervised school settings. Should he violate this order in any way, he will immediately be transferred to juvenile detention."
The judge looks directly at Issei.
"Seven: Kuoh Academy's school board and administration, along with Miss Nakamura, will serve as accountability monitors. Should the respondent demonstrate any behavior consistent with the cognitive patterns that led to these crimes—should he demonstrate predatory thinking, manipulation, or exploitation—the school will immediately report this to the court, and the respondent will be removed from school and transferred to detention."
He sets down his pen. "This sentence is designed not to punish, but to rehabilitate. The respondent is being given a significant opportunity—one that he did not deserve, but which the victim has generously offered. He must understand that this opportunity comes with absolute accountability. There is no second chance after this one."
He looks at Nami. "Miss Nakamura, I want to ensure you understand the weight of what you have undertaken. You are volunteering to bear witness to this young man's rehabilitation. That is a heavy burden."
Nami nods"I understand, Your Honor. And I accept it."Judge Tanaka looks at Issei. "Mr. Hyoudou, do you understand these conditions? Do you understand that your education—your entire future—depends on your ability to demonstrate genuine change, every single day, in the presence of the person you tried to exploit?"
Issei stands on shaking legs. "Yes, Your Honor. I understand."
"And do you understand that Miss Nakamura, by offering you this chance, has given you something far more valuable than leniency? She has given you the opportunity to become someone better. That is a gift. Do not waste it."
Issei nods again "I won't. I promise. I won't waste it." The judge sighs gently "See that you don't." He stands, signaling the end of the proceedings. "This court is adjourned."
[Timeskip: Brought to you by a mark being stamped on a paper]
As Nami walks toward the courtroom exit, her legal team forming a protective barrier, Gorou and Miki rush after her. They're moving with the desperation of parents who have just had their son's future returned to them. "Miss Nakamura, please—wait."
Nami slows her pace but doesn't stop. She's still moving, still in control of the interaction's momentum. Gorou catches up, slightly breathless. "We... we don't have the words to thank you. What you did in there, giving Issei a chance instead of destroying him—"
Miki is crying again, and she reaches for Nami's arm. "Thank you. Thank you so much. You're a better person than we could ever be."
Nami pauses at the threshold of the courtroom door. She turns to face them, and her expression shifts—not unkind, but entirely businesslike. The moment of mercy has passed. Now comes the real transaction. "There is one thing you need to understand, Mr. Hyoudou, Mrs. Hyoudou."
Her voice drops, becomes more intimate and more dangerous at the same time. "What just happened in that courtroom—the court finding, my proposal, all of it—is now a matter of public record. The media will report it. People will know that your son attempted to blackmail a victim of sexual assault. People will know that you, as his parents, are willing to compensate her for emotional damages."
She lets that sink in. "The financial arrangement we discussed before today—the sale of your three lumberyards to Abyssgard Financial Management—that is the price of the court's leniency. That is what purchased your son's second chance. Do you understand?"
Gorou nods, though his expression shows he doesn't fully understand where she's going with this. "Yes, we understand. We agreed to it. We're prepared to—"
"You are prepared to tell people that you sold everything your family built to compensate my trauma. You are prepared to be seen as a family that is willing to sacrifice their entire livelihood to ensure justice for a victim."
She steps closer, and both Gorou and Miki instinctively step back. "That is the story you will tell. That is the story the court will believe. That is the story that will prevent anyone from questioning why I offered such leniency. Because the answer, in that narrative, is obvious: I was compensated. I was paid
As she releases his hand, Nami turns and walks through the courtroom doors, her three lawyers moving in perfect synchronization around her.
The woman in the pantsuit is already on her phone, likely scheduling the next steps of the Abyssgard financial management arrangement.
Gorou watches Nami leave. When she's gone, he turns to Miki. Neither of them speaks for a long moment. "She orchestrated all of this. Before the trial. Before the apology. Before everything."
"Yes." He reaches into his suit jacket and pulls out a contract—thick, multi-page, dense with legal language. He holds it, staring at the document he signed in a quiet office, thinking he was protecting his family.
The contract is titled:
"FINANCIAL MANAGEMENT AND BUSINESS ADMINISTRATION SERVICES AGREEMENT"Effective Party: Hyoudou Gorou - Abyssgard Financial ManagementScope: Complete financial management, accounting, international business liaison, and operational coordination of Hyoudou Lumber IndustriesFee Structure: Waived, pending satisfactory performance of trial obligations and family conduct standards
The final clause, highlighted in yellow "This agreement remains confidential. Public disclosure of the actual terms is prohibited. The parties acknowledge that public appearance of asset transfer is necessary for the beneficial rehabilitation of the respondent minor."
Gorou's hands are trembling as he reads it. "She planned every detail. Every single detail."
Miki asks her husband "What do we do?" Gorou folds the contract carefully and looks at his wife. "We do what she said. We maintain the fiction. We let Issei believe that we sacrificed everything because of what he did. We let him carry that weight. And we hope—"
He pauses. "—we hope that it teaches him what no prison sentence ever could." He tucks the contract back into his jacket, over his heart.
Gorou continues "And you'll hide this. Keep this safe. If Issei ever asks, if he ever demands proof of the sale, we show him nothing. We let him believe we did what we had to do."
Miki nods slowly. She understands. It's not cruel. It's pedagogical. It's a lesson written in the sacrifice of two parents who love their son enough to lie to him. "I'll keep this safe."
[Timeskip: Brought to you by a TV being turned on]
[Arto's mansion]
Nami barely had time to kick off her heels before Rias yanked her into the living room with uncharacteristic urgency. "You have to see this," the Gremory heiress hissed, dragging her toward the couch where Kuroka's tail flicked in agitation.
The room smelled of bergamot from Grayfia's tea and the ozone-tang of Akeno's nervous static as Nami found herself sandwiched between Rias and Kuroka, the latter's claws digging into the armrest.
On screen, a Swedish newscaster gestured to a smoldering dockyard behind her. "*...total collapse of the Arlong syndicate following tonight's coordinated raids," the translator's voiceover narrated as footage cut to masked Interpol agents hauling handcuffed fishmen through snow.
Koneko's ears flattened at the close-up of a blue-skinned enforcer with gills—his face contorted in rage as he screamed about "human treachery" before being gagged.
Robin set her teacup down with a deliberate clink. "It seems he has completed his mission as your Christmas present, Nami. Arlong is now eradicated, their money has been frozen, their hideouts have been dugged out like a rat holes, it seems our CEO did things really thoroughly"
Grayfia takes a sip of tea as she raises her concern "But won't it expose your involvement in their dirty money work? Even if you're forced to work for them, it's hard to escape the laws"
Nami shakes her head "It was never the case, my name in the document is a person with the codename CB - Cash Bundle, a financier who laundered their money, and was killed 2 years ago, the same time I escaped their grip, fake memories have been inlaid, they will say what they gotta say."
Rias turns to her "Does that mean Nami can take her position as vice director of JP Morgan SE back?" The CFO leans back at her seat "I don't think so, things have changed, a new person has sat in that chair. And I'm already Arto's CFO and CEO of Abyssgard, I don't need that position back anymore, it's in the past and I, along with my old colleagues, don't want to touch it anymore"
Akeno comes to her and offers her some pastries Grayfia made "Then let it rest in peace in the past, you're here with your new family" She kisses Nami's cheek "Have something as we call Arto, you gotta thank him for what he did"
As they were talking, Rias is already preparing magical line to Arto "Let's see where our beloved is"
The mirror-like surface of the communication portal shimmered with unnatural static before resolving into an image that made Kuroka's tail puff up seeing Arto after almost 2 weeks—Arto is sitting on the airplane home from Europe. The entire family's attention is drawn to the man on the screen.
"Good day to you all, everyone, especially you, Nami" Arto greets them as he yawns gently to the screen, he didn't look fazed or tired even after disassembling an entire criminal empire in two weeks, in fact he looked relaxed as he sits on first class seat, stretching his arms while sipping his whiskey "And I can see you've been watching the news, huh?"
"Yes, we did" Robin nods as she leans forward "And judging from your expression, you didn't get any trouble from them?"
Arto chuckles, swirling his drink "Let's just say that Swedish Interpol received their promotional gift too—three fully operational syndicate bases with their security systems conveniently disabled, and a signed confession from Arlong's second-in-command detailing twelve other hideouts. Including the one in Bremen where they kept their...." His eyes flick to Nami for half a second before continuing smoothly, "...financial records."
Koneko's claws unsheathe involuntarily. "You killed them." It gets Arto laughing "I didn't, but will, they will die in about...a few months from now in prison, batch by batch, randomly, as normal as possible"
The screen flickers as turbulence hits Arto's plane, his cup almost fall but was caught by him "I'll be home by...I don't know, maybe 6 hours or so, and I bought some presents for you all"
"Ohh~Preparing for Christmas already, my love?" Akeno purrs "All I want for Christmas is you~"
Arto tilts his head "Okay, I am confused now, what is Christmas? I've been hearing it a lot these last few days and I am too bad at Swedish to ask and too busy destroying Arlong to mind"
The silence that follows is so thick even Kuroka's tail stops mid-flick. Grayfia's teacup hovers halfway to her lips, her usually impeccable composure cracking with disbelief. Robin's fingers twitch against her notebook—the first tell Nami's seen in years.
Rias recovers first, pressing her palms to her cheeks with a theatrical gasp. "Wait? You don't know what Christmas is?"
The screen flickers again—this time with interference from Albedo's sudden burst of delighted giggles. The succubus drapes herself over Nami's shoulder like a living shawl, her eyes gleaming. "Ohhh, Master is adorable when he's ignorant," she coos, licking her lips.
Arto blinks. "It's a holiday, right? The one with the tree and the fat man in red?"
Koneko's ears flatten. "Santa is not fat," she mutters, offended on behalf of all feline-kind.
Grayfia sets her teacup down with surgical precision. "Master. Are you telling us that in whatever dimension you hail from, there exists no winter solstice celebration involving gift exchange?"
"Come on, how do you expect someone who lives in a place where every day is blizzard with little to none comfort to celebrate coldness and gifts exchanging?" Arto's voice crackled through the portal, his expression caught between amusement and genuine bewilderment.
The silence in the mansion's living room lasted precisely three seconds before erupting into coordinated chaos.
Rias clapped her hands together with a sound like a gunshot. "Right! We're doing Christmas properly this year—full traditional!" Her eyes burned with the fervor of a general declaring war.
Akeno was already halfway off the couch, lightning dancing between her fingers as she summoned a notepad. "I'll handle decorations—we need garlands, mistletoe, proper tinsel—"
"No tacky tinsel," Grayfia interjected, her teacup hovering midair. "Master's first Christmas demands tasteful silver strands. And real candles for the tree."
Albedo's wings twitched excitedly behind Nami, nearly knocking over Robin's tea. "Oh! We should replicate the Gremory family's Yule feast—honey-glazed ham with pear and saffron chutney in Lady Venelana's cookbook, spiced wine served in enchanted goblets that never empty—"
Robin caught her teacup mid-tip with a summoned hand, her real fingers already flipping through a notebook. "We'll need to retrofit the west ballroom. Current dimensions can't accommodate a traditional Norse julbord *and* the Sitri clan's ice sculptures." Her eyes flicked to Grayfia. "Unless we remove the—"
"No," Grayfia said, sharper than a guillotine. "The crystal chandelier stays. It was a gift from Milord's mother."
Koneko, still bristling over Santa's honor, vaulted over the couch to land in front of the portal where Arto's image flickered. "You need a tree. A *big* one. With lights and ornaments and—" She hesitated, ears flattening. "...a star on top."
Arto's chuckle crackled through the speakers. "Sounds like I'm getting drafted into holiday servitude." His fingers tapped against his whiskey glass—three deliberate clicks. The portal shimmered, expanding to show the first-class cabin's ceiling as he stretched.
"Tell me this, little lioness—" His voice dropped into that velvet-dark tone that made Kuroka's tail puff. "Does the *tree* come with instructions, or am I expected to improvise?"
"You don't need to worry about anything, Arto" Nami answers "You just need to come home and see everything is ready for you, we can't force you to work on something you've never experienced before"
"We can get a good pine tree from Simulation Room's Botanical Sector, they can fast-grow one for us in time-dilated environment with controlled shaped, we can get one in about a few hours" Rias said as she takes her phone out to call the Sector.
"Robin and I will go fetch decorations" Nami said as she takes Robin's hand and pulls her up "Money is on me" she claims pridefully. Grayfia stands up as well "I'll get the food ready" Koneko rises up as well "I'll make some desserts I learned from Rias's cousin Damian."
Koneko's claim makes Kuroka excited as she wraps herself around her sister "Nyah~My little Shirone can make food now~? And dessert no less? I need to see this, nyao"
Koneko squirms under her sister's embrace, ears twitching with irritation—but there's no real bite to her glare. "Tch. Damian taught me last summer. Said I had 'potential if you stop eating all the batter.'" She pauses, then adds with reluctant pride, "...It's chocolate chiffon cake."
The portal flickers as Arto chuckles—a warm, rumbling sound that makes Kuroka's tail curl. "Careful, little lioness. You're turning into a proper housecat."
Kiba also claims a mission to himself "I'll help with making customized decorations" Akeno stands next to him "I'll enchance them for you to make it the first best Christmas for our Arto"
Albedo points a finger at herself "Wait, everyone, what about me, what do I do?" Grayfia turns towards her "You will do 2 missions, 1 is doing what do usually as Baroness Atreides, operational supervising, and 2 is picking up Master from the airport once he is home"
The succubus' wings flutter in delight, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. "Understood~ I'll ensure the Simulation Room's mana stabilizers are recalibrated for festive operations!" She leans toward the portal. "Master, shall I wear the chauffeur uniform or the ceremonial armor for your arrival?"
Arto's laughter crackles through the portal, rich and warm. "Surprise me." He shrugs "Though if you show up in full Atreides regalia, customs might detain me for smuggling historical artifacts."
Kuroka snickers, draping herself over the couch armrest. "Nya~ Better detain him for smuggling other treasures—like that Swiss chocolate he promised me~" Her golden eyes narrow playfully at the screen. "You didn't forget, did you, Aru~to?"
Before Arto can respond, Grayfia's teacup clinks against its saucer—a sound like a gavel striking order. "Enough distractions." Her glacial gaze sweeps the room. "We have six hours until Master's return. Robin, Nami—the boutique in the city near here has those hand-blown glass ornaments from Venice. Akeno, the Sitri archives contain Venelana's Yule enchantment schematics. Retrieve them."
Grayfia takes Koneko's one hand, the other is taken by Kuroka "We'll be in the kitchen preparing the feast" Kiba departs as well "See me in my workshop after you retrieve those enchancements, Akeno-senpai"
"Let us go, Robin" Nami pulls Robin towards the door, and Robin lets her being dragged, while Rias head towards the basement to get to the Simulation Room "I'll go see the tree." Albedo has to tablet out "All categories, components and criterias listed, we require nothing from perfection for my Master's first Christmas"
Arto from the plane, seeing everyone going on their own missions to prepare Christmas for him "Thank you, everyone, for your dedications and care for me, I'll leave you to it. Surprise me with anything, you working this hard for me is what warms my heart the most"
The portal fizzled out as Arto's grin lingered—a rare, unguarded moment before the screen dissolved into static.