Vash
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Chapter 48
🕑 Added 2025-06-12 14:47:22 +0000 UTCThree days had passed since then. Three days of fielding calls from nervous board members, approving emergency window repairs, and pretending the hole in my thirty-floor office wall was just "architectural renovation."
Three days of Alessia handling an endless stream of "requests for audiences" from supernatural factions who'd suddenly discovered an urgent need to discuss business partnerships.
Looks like word had gotten out. About what I did. About my meeting with Indra.
Now, walking through the school gates felt surreal after everything.
"Leon!"
I turned to find Issei jogging up behind me, his bag bouncing against his hip as he tried to catch up. His usual goofy grin was plastered across his face.
"Yo, man!" He fell into step beside me, slightly out of breath. "You look like crap."
"Thanks for the assessment," I said dryly. "Really what I needed to hear this morning."
"No, seriously!" He gestured at my face with both hands. "You've got those dark circles under your eyes. And your hair's all—" He made some vague swooping motion. "Have you been sleeping?"
"Define sleeping."
The truth was, I didn't technically need sleep anymore. The Dragon's Elixir had taken care of that particular human requirement. But I still did it anyway—for my sanity more than anything else. Turns out your brain needs downtime even when your body doesn't.
Problem was, the past few days had been spent lying awake, staring at the ceiling, mind racing through many things instead of actually resting. Mental exhaustion was still very much a thing, even if physical fatigue wasn't.
"You know, that thing normal people do where they close their eyes and dream about boobs?"
I nearly choked. "Of course. That's what you dream about."
"Don't judge me!" His face turned red. "A man has needs! Speaking of which—" He leaned in conspiratorially. "I heard some crazy rumors about explosions downtown. You didn't happen to see anything weird, did you?"
If only you knew, buddy.
We walked into the building, joining the stream of students heading to their lockers and first period classes. The familiar sounds of school life—lockers slamming, conversations echoing off the walls, the squeak of sneakers on polished floors—felt oddly comforting after the supernatural chaos of the past few days.
"Oh! That reminds me," Issei said, digging through his bag. "Matsuda wanted me to ask if you've got any tips for talking to girls."
"Why would he think I have tips?"
"Dude, seriously?" Issei gave me an incredulous look. "You're like the school's mysterious prince. Half the girls here have your name written in their notebooks with little hearts around it."
"That's disturbing."
"That's awesome!" He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. "Look, he even made a list of questions. 'How do you make your hair so perfect?' 'What cologne do you use?' 'Do you practice your mysterious stare in the mirror?'"
I grabbed the paper and read it. The questions got progressively more ridiculous. "'What's your secret pickup line?' 'How many girls have you kissed?' 'Can you teach us the ancient art of being ridiculously good-looking?'"
"Tell Matsuda that being 'ridiculously good-looking' isn't something you can teach."
"So you admit you're ridiculously good-looking!" Issei pointed at me triumphantly. "I knew it! You totally know how hot you are!"
A group of first-year girls walking past us suddenly started giggling and whispering. One of them actually dropped her books when I glanced their way.
"See?" Issei gestured wildly. "That! Right there! How do you do that?"
"Do what?"
"That thing where you just exist and girls lose their minds!"
I bent down to help the first-year pick up her books. She turned approximately the same shade as a tomato and stammered out a thank you before practically sprinting away with her friends.
"I don't do anything," I said, straightening up.
"Bullshit," Issei muttered. "There's gotta be a technique. Some kind of secret. Maybe it's genetic? Are your parents super attractive too?"
The mention of my parents sent a familiar pang through my chest. "Were. And yeah, they were."
Issei's expression immediately shifted. "Ah, shit. Sorry, man. I didn't mean to—"
"It's fine." I waved him off. "But to answer your question, there's no secret technique. I just... treat people like people."
"That's it? That's your big secret?"
"Pretty much."
"That's the lamest superpower ever."
Then I caught a glimpse of red hair at the far end of the hallway.
Rias Gremory stood near the trophy case, talking to Akeno. But the moment she spotted me, her entire body language changed. Her shoulders tensed, her smile became forced, and she took a half-step backward.
Our eyes met for just a second. Something flickered across her face before she quickly looked away.
Was that fear? I guess she heard about what happened too.
She turned away quickly, practically dragging Akeno in the opposite direction.
"Huh," Issei said, following my gaze. "Weird. Usually Rias-senpai at least waves when she sees us. She looked like she saw a ghost or something."
"Maybe she's having a bad morning."
"Yeah, probably." He shrugged, already losing interest. "Girls are weird. Speaking of which, you should totally come with me to the Occult Research Club after school! I've been trying to work up the courage to join for weeks."
"Pass."
"Come on! You could be my wingman! With your mysterious prince powers and my... uh..." He paused. "Okay, I don't know what I bring to the table, but still!"
"Your overwhelming enthusiasm?"
"Exactly!" He grinned. "So you'll come?"
"Not a chance in hell."
If only you knew, buddy. Probably soon enough.
The morning passed in a blur of classes I couldn't focus on. Teachers droned about subjects that felt trivial compared to the supernatural politics swirling around me. My mind kept drifting to other things.
When lunch finally arrived, I made my way to the roof, carrying the elaborate bento Hayama had prepared.
Koneko was already there, sitting in our usual spot. She looked up when I approached, those golden eyes studying my face with that peculiar intensity she always had.
"You look tired," she said simply.
"So I've been told." I sat down beside her, opening the bento box. "Multiple times today, actually."
She didn't respond immediately, just watched as I unpacked the food.
"You smell like her," Koneko said quietly.
"Huh?"
"Sona-kaichou." Her voice was even flatter than usual. "Her scent is all over you."
Ah. Right. Enhanced senses. I'd forgotten about that.
"We had dinner yesterday," I said carefully.
Koneko's eyes narrowed slightly. "Just dinner?"
The question hung in the air between us. I could lie, deflect, change the subject. But something in her expression stopped me. The careful blankness she always wore had cracked just enough for me to see something vulnerable underneath.
"We're dating,"
Her shoulders stiffened, and for just a moment, something flashed across her face before she could hide it behind her usual mask.
"I see," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
The silence stretched between us, heavy and uncomfortable. I watched as she carefully rearranged her expression, building those walls back up brick by brick.
"Koneko—"
"It's fine," she cut me off, her tone back to its usual flat monotone. "You don't owe me explanations."
But it wasn't fine. I could see it in the set of her shoulders, the way her hands clenched slightly in her lap, the careful distance she'd put between us on the bench.
"Hey," I said softly, reaching out to touch her hand.
She flinched away from the contact.
"Don't," she whispered. "Please."
Something twisted in my chest. She was pulling away, and it hurt more than I'd expected.
"Koneko, look at me."
She shook her head, staring down at her hands.
"Please."
Slowly, reluctantly, golden eyes met mine. They were bright with unshed tears.
"I like you too," I said quietly.
Her breath hitched. "But you chose her."
"I didn't choose anyone over you." I shifted closer, ignoring the way she tensed. "Sona and I... it's complicated. But that doesn't change how I feel about you."
"How do you feel about me?" The question was barely audible.
Instead of answering with words, I reached up and cupped her face gently, thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped despite her efforts.
"Like this," I whispered, and kissed her.
Her lips were soft, warm, trembling slightly under mine. For a moment she was frozen, shocked. Then she melted into the kiss, her hands fisting in my shirt as if afraid I might disappear.
When we broke apart, she was crying openly now.
"I was so scared," she whispered against my lips. "When you said you were dating her, I thought—"
"That I didn't want you anymore?"
She nodded, unable to speak.
"Never," I said firmly, pulling her closer. "You're important to me, Koneko. You always will be."
"You're different," I said finally. "What I feel for Sona, what I feel for you—they're not the same thing. I can't rank them."
She pulled back slightly to study my face. "You really mean that?"
"I really mean that."
A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. The first real smile I'd seen from her in days.
"Does she know?" Koneko asked. "About me?"
I nodded.
"Typical devils," Koneko muttered.
"Is that okay with you?"
Koneko was quiet for a long moment, considering. Then she nodded slowly.
"As long as you don't forget about me."
"Not possible," I said, pulling her into my lap in our familiar position. "You're too cute to forget."
That got a small laugh out of her. She settled against my chest, some of the tension finally leaving her body.
"I like this better," she said quietly.
"What?"
"When you're honest with me." She looked up, golden eyes serious. "Don't hide things from me anymore, Leon. Please."
Seeing the trust and vulnerability there, I found myself nodding.
"I'll try," I promised.
We sat together in silence after that.
"Leon?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you."
"For what?"
She was quiet for so long I thought she might not answer. Then, barely audible:
"For choosing me too."
Author’s Note:
Apologies for the delayed update. Work has been especially demanding lately, and it’s taken up most of my time and energy. I appreciate your patience and support.
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