It had been four days since Issei Hyoudou returned from the other world. Alongside him had come six new individuals, the Sekirei who had chosen to follow him. Thankfully, unlike the chaotic aftermath of his first dimensional travel—when he brought back Tamamo, Yuuka, Misuki, and little Sakura—the town hadn't descended into a gossip-fueled frenzy.
Maybe it was because they'd learned to be more careful. Maybe it was the subtle but effective boundary field Tamamo now maintained around the house, obscuring auras and abnormal presences. Or maybe, people just stopped being surprised after the fourth beautiful girl that moved in.
Whatever the reason, peace, if you could call the current state of affairs peaceful, had settled over the Hyoudou residence.
—---------------------------
5th of December, Friday, Evening. Hyoudou Residence, Kitchen.
Steam wafted from freshly prepared dishes as laughter and light conversation filled the long dining table. Issei sat at the center, flanked on all sides by the women who had come to mean more to him than he'd ever expected.
He set his chopsticks down with a satisfied sigh, leaning back just enough to not be rude. "Miya, Tamamo—seriously, that was amazing. You two might be too good at this. I'll never be able to eat regular food again."
Miya, in her ever-gentle grace, smiled from across the table, dabbing the corners of her mouth with a napkin. "It's only natural to serve our dear husband something nourishing after such hard day at school."
Tamamo, sitting beside Issei and comfortably leaning into his arm, added with a teasing grin, "Besides, if we didn't keep feeding you like this, you'd collapse halfway through your training sessions."
Issei chuckled, but winced slightly. "Not gonna lie… Karasuba nearly took my head off last night. I still don't know if she's trying to kill me or just… really enthusiastic about 'training.'"
"Training builds character," Karasuba said flatly, lounging near the end of the table with her katana resting against the wall behind her. Her eyes gleamed like a predator's, amused and hungry. "And fear keeps you sharp."
Across the table, Yashima nodded solemnly. "It is… intense. But I think I'm getting better. I even managed to land a blow on Tamamo's clone yesterday."
Miya clapped her hands together in faux surprise. "You did! Very good, Yashima-chan."
Next to her, Akitsu quietly chewed her food, looking thoughtful. "I stopped more of her fire than before. Small improvement."
"Every bit counts," Issei encouraged her, smiling. Despite her quiet nature, Akitsu had been one of the most focused during training. He appreciated that about her.
As conversation continued, a noticeable gap in the rhythm made itself known.
"Still no sign of Misuki, Uzume, or Matsu, huh?" Issei asked, glancing at the three missing women.
Miya exhaled gently, her tone carrying a mix of pride and exasperation. "Misuki insisted on staying at the store. She wants everything perfect before the grand opening. And she has been quite… effective at motivating the others."
"You mean she's been bossing them around," Yuuka said dryly, stabbing a piece of grilled fish. "Not that I blame her. She told me that Uzume tried to dodge her work by trying to run away."
"She had Matsu use her security system to stop her." Miya added, snickering.
"I heard Matsu tried to install a high-tech security system." Yashima chimed in, brow furrowed in confusion. "But it… locks people inside?"
Issei blinked. "Okay, now I really need to check in on that place."
"You'll get your chance," Miya assured him. "They plan to return home the night before the opening. Until then, they're surviving on takeout and Matsu's emergency ramen stash."
Issei rubbed his forehead. "That can't be healthy."
—------------------------------
After dinner, most of the household dispersed into their own routines. Miya and Miki took to cleaning, chatting softly about tomorrow's errands. Tamamo excused herself to prepare training clothes for Yashima and Akitsu with her mysterious, magically weighted fabric that Issei had come to both love and dread.
Issei stood near the front door, adjusting the collar of his red tracksuit. The fabric was slightly faded from daily use. He reached down to tighten his shoelaces, stretching his back once ready to head out.
"Another day of getting pummeled by Karasuba." He muttered to himself with a lopsided grin. "Maybe today I'll actually dodge that reverse sweep…"
As he stood, preparing for the rest to come down and join him, a soft voice called out behind him.
"Issei-kun."
He turned and was greeted by Miya, serene as ever. She held a covered woven basket in her hands, steam gently wafting from beneath the cloth, carrying the unmistakable fragrance of tamagoyaki, rice balls, and pickled vegetables. Her expression was kind, but it carried the subtle weight of expectation.
"Would you mind delivering this to Matsu, Uzume, and Misuki-san?" She asked. "They've been working hard on the store and I'm sure a visit from you will brighten their day."
Issei's face lit up at the opportunity. "Oh, sure! I haven't seen them since Misuki took them. Honestly, I wanted to come over and see how they were doing. But Misuki said I would only distract them."
"They've kept themselves quite busy," Miya said with a faint smile, though her eyes revealed a flicker of concern. "Too busy, perhaps. I hear Matsu's been pulling all-nighters again."
That didn't surprise Issei one bit. He took the basket carefully, peeking inside and letting out a low whistle. "This looks incredible. They're gonna lose it when they see this."
Miya's smile deepened. "Tell them not to rush. The store will open soon enough. And let them know they are missed."
Issei gave her a casual salute with two fingers. "You got it, Miya."
As he turned toward the door again, Miya's voice gently called him back.
"Oh, and Issei-kun?"
He paused mid-step. "Yeah?"
Soon a kiss on the cheek was planted by Miya.
"Do be careful and return quickly." Miya says with a bashful blush. "I'll tell the girls where you went."
Issei blinked. "Right!" Issei answered with a bright smile.
He quickly went out, the thought of seeing the three girls again lifted his spirits. It had only been three days, but with how fast his life moved, it felt a lot longer. He wondered how they were holding up. Matsu, buried in wires and machines. Misuki, probably barking orders like a military commander. And Uzume… Well, hopefully she hadn't gotten herself locked in the changing room trying to rest.
—-------------------------------------
Hana's Store
Fabric scraps littered the floor, bundles of cloth leaned against walls, and the faint humming of machines filled the space. In one corner, Uzume slumped across a sewing station, her head buried in a rainbow pile of partially finished dresses and cosplay designs. Her eyes were bloodshot, her hair slightly frazzled, and one of her sleeves was loosely stitched to a jacket she'd clearly fallen asleep on.
"Dead… I'm dead…" She groaned dramatically.
Across the room, Matsu sat amidst a tangled forest of wires, circuit boards, and blinking prototype smartphones. Her usual glasses were askew, and one eye twitched behind a glowing screen as lines of code scrolled endlessly. Her fingers tapped rhythmically, but even she couldn't suppress the twitch in her lip or the heavy bags under her eyes.
"Why did I agree to this…? I should be in bed… with a warm, muscular Ashikabi pillow…"
"Stop fantasizing!" Uzume barked half-heartedly from her pile. "You're making me feel worse!"
"I need cuddles." Matsu whined, drooping forward until her forehead thunked against the table.
Standing above them, arms crossed, Misuki looked disappointed. Her black business suit was immaculate, her hair below her neck, and her expression was one of cold calculation mixed with growing frustration.
"I cannot believe this," she said with a sigh. "It's only been three days since we started. You two have barely completed the production quota. We're this close. This store is the first major front we're establishing in this world. Have you no sense of responsibility?"
Uzume sat up, glaring with bloodshot eyes. "Behind schedule?! Misuki, I haven't slept since Tuesday! I've made, like, twenty full outfits, plus six custom lingerie sets, and two mascot costumes—don't ask. That's enough to warrant a nap!" Uzume rolled over dramatically, flopping an arm toward her like a dying soldier in a war film. "We're tired."
Matsu joined in with a slow nod, eyes drooping behind her screen. "If I stare at one more error screen, I'll start hallucinating Issei-sama in my screen."
"You've both had less sleep than I anticipated." Misuki admitted, her tone softening by a fraction. "But we're not done. And we cannot afford failure."
"You're a devil…" Uzume mumbled, dragging herself upright.
"Cold-hearted dictator…" Matsu added under her breath. "If it weren't for my love of Issei and machines, I'd rebel."
Misuki's eye twitched slightly, but instead of retorting, she turned and walked toward the door, noticing the figure coming into view from the camera outside. "Hah! I was afraid of this. That's why I called the house." She said calmly. "To bring you someone to give you strength and motivation to continue."
The door opened. And in stepped Issei, sunlight spilling behind him like a halo. He held the food basket with a grin, but that quickly faltered when he saw the state of the room—and the girls.
"Yo! Hope I'm not interrupting—whoa."
Issei stepped inside, blinking at the disaster zone that was the store's interior. His eyes darted between Uzume's lifeless form, Matsu's disheveled state, and Misuki standing tall like a boss character at the end of a grind-heavy dungeon.
Matsu's eyes sparkled instantly, all exhaustion seemingly forgotten. "Issei-sama!"
Uzume straightened so fast it was like someone lit a fire under her. "You brought food?! And you?! Double jackpot!"
He held up the basket. "Courtesy of Miya. She was worried you three haven't been eating properly."
"I knew I loved her," Uzume mumbled, opening the basket and grabbing one of the rice balls and practically inhaling it. "Mmph—gods, flavor! Actual flavor!"
Matsu took her time, delicately lifting a tamagoyaki like it was a sacred relic. "To think such nourishment would find its way to our forsaken time of need…"
Misuki, arms still crossed, gave a knowing nod. "As you can see, they are responding well to incentive."
Issei couldn't help but laugh. "You guys really look like you've been through hell."
"We live with hell," Uzume said between bites, licking her fingers. "And her name is Misuki."
"I'm flattered." The dark-haired woman replied dryly.
Issei set the basket down on a center table and took a seat on a nearby chair. "Well, you're not alone now. Why don't you take a short break? I'll hang out here for a while. You've earned it."
The effect was immediate. Uzume practically fell into his side, her cheek resting on his shoulder as she sighed in bliss.
Matsu snuck in on his other side, fingers lightly grazing his arm as she leaned in, her glasses reflecting a mischievous glint. "We could use some cuddles and pampering while we eat. Issei-sama's presence is scientifically proven to reduce stress and increase dopamine levels," She added matter-of-factly.
Issei was quick to start patting and rubbing their heads wanting their suffering to lessen. The effect quickly brought satisfaction to the overwork Sekirei.
Misuki shook her head, but even she allowed a small, indulgent smile. "Fifteen minutes. Then back to work."
Uzume grinned. "That's the Misuki we know. Stingy with the time, but soft on the inside."
Issei leaned against the wall, seated on a cushioned bench. On either side of him were Uzume and Matsu, both snuggled close, practically purring in contentment as they picked at the food Miya had lovingly packed.
He glanced at them, unable to hide his soft smile. 'Man, they really were exhausted... Just being close to them seems to help. Maybe Ddraig's energy or the Ashikabi link heals mental strain too?' He wondered idly. His gaze drifted to their relaxed expressions and the way their shoulders, once tense and hunched, now seemed to melt into him.
"I should drop by more often." He murmured with a chuckle.
Uzume let out a happy sigh, nudging her head into his shoulder. "Yes, please. I was two buttons away from setting this place on fire and calling it a day."
Matsu smirked, nudging up her glasses. "I believe this qualifies you as a medicinal necessity."
He was about to snuggle with them further when he noticed Misuki standing a few paces away, her arms crossed—not out of disapproval, but in that quietly conflicted way that always made Issei pause. She was watching them, lips pressed together in a thin line, her gaze unreadable.
Uzume noticed too, her head lifting slightly. A knowing look passed between her and Matsu, one that carried wordless understanding born from shared affection and keen observation. Without a word, they both stood in unison.
"Huh?" Issei blinked, glancing up at the two in confusion. "What's going on?"
Before he could fully process it, the two women grabbed Misuki—gently, but with firm determination—and with synchronized ease, they guided her toward him.
"W-Wait—what are you—?!" Misuki gasped as she suddenly found herself sitting awkwardly on Issei's lap, stiff as a board, her hands held slightly aloft like she was being arrested.
Issei's eyes went wide. "Uh—Misuki-san?!"
A fierce blush bloomed across the older woman's cheeks, her usual calm composure crumbling into a flurry of flustered motions. "Th-this is inappropriate—I don't—!"
"Oh come on, don't play innocent," Uzume teased with a sly grin, dropping to her knees beside them and poking at Misuki's cheek. "You think we haven't noticed how you look at him when you think no one's watching?"
Matsu, now seated on the other side, nodded with a playful smirk. "The way your expression shifts whenever he walks into the room. Your eyes linger. Your lips twitch like you're trying to suppress a smile. It's adorable."
"I-I do not—" Misuki tried to protest, but the words tangled in her throat, her dignity clashing against the flutter in her chest. Her body remained tense in Issei's lap, unsure whether to get up or melt further into the warmth beneath her.
Issei, for his part, had turned into a statue, face hot, hands awkwardly hovering in the air. "Uhh… Misuki-san? Are you okay?"
"I told you before to stop calling me that," she murmured, voice so soft it was nearly lost.
"…What?"
"Call me Misuki," she said, quieter still. "If… you're going to let me sit like this…"
There was a pause.
Issei gave a sheepish laugh, scratching the back of his head. "Alright, Misuki."
That did it. Her composure wavered entirely, and her body leaned slightly into him. It was as if acknowledging the name gave her unspoken permission to just feel.
"You know." Uzume piped up, eyes mischievous, "We were wondering… Is the reason you never act on your feelings, is it because of Yuuka?"
That question made Misuki jolt, her breath catching in her throat.
"…Yuuka obviously knows." she finally said, slowly and clearly. "She's… very mature about it. Honestly, she told me to stop being so hesitant and go for what makes me happy."
"Then why haven't you?" Matsu asked, leaning forward with a curious smile. "You're a beautiful, intelligent, sensual woman. Anyone with eyes can see that. So why hold back?"
Misuki exhaled, the admission heavy on her tongue. "It's because of… Miki. Issei's mother. We've become good friends. We're close in age, both parents, both understanding the strange and beautiful chaos our children have dragged us into. It just feels… awkward. I mean, could you flirt with your friend's teenage son, knowing she raised him? To an older divorced woman?"
Issei blinked. "Wait… you and my mom are that close?"
She gave him a slightly exasperated look. "Issei, we're usually go out and window shop together."
"…Huh. That explains why she suddenly knows where to get those fancy cakes."
Uzume leaned in, grinning ear to ear. "Well, the way we see it, our mother-in-law isn't here right now."
Matsu mirrored her grin. "Which means this is the perfect window of opportunity."
Misuki looked like she wanted to protest again, but her voice caught. Then, slowly—hesitantly—she looked at Issei. Really looked. His eyes were kind, uncertain, but steady. His hands still hadn't touched her, waiting respectfully for her to make the next move.
That was the push she needed.
"I suppose… one little break from propriety won't kill me."
And just like that, the three mature women descended upon him with unrestrained affection.
Uzume peppered kisses along his jaw, laughing when he flinched and tried to shield himself. "You owe us cuddles, hubby. We're cashing in."
Matsu slid into his lap beside Misuki, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Just think of it as physical therapy."
Misuki, still red, finally let her hands rest on his chest. Her head leaned slightly on his shoulder, and a content sigh escaped her lips. "If Miki asks… we'll just say it was your fault."
Issei, somewhere between overwhelmed and elated, threw his arms around them and gave a long, amused sigh. "…I am so dead when Mom finds out."
—---------------------------------------
Houdou Household, Night
Issei lay sprawled out on one of the various futons on the floor of his room, a towel draped around his neck, his hair damp from a shower. His muscles still ached slightly from the night's workout, and the residue of his sparring session buzzed lightly under his skin. But tonight, his mind wasn't occupied with battle strategies, Ki or magical control. No, it was spinning for an entirely different reason.
'Tomorrow's the day…'
He stared up at the ceiling, his fingers laced behind his head, eyes wide with thought. His heart gave a faint thump as the image of a certain pink-haired fox woman flashed in his mind. Her golden eyes, the way she smirked with that confident playfulness, her long fox ears flicking when she was amused. And tomorrow, they were going on their first real date.
'A date with Tamamo.' He grinned like an idiot.
He'd spent the better part of the week planning it out—well, as much as Tamamo would allow him. She was far too chaotic to box into a rigid schedule, but he'd struck a balance. A stroll through Kuoh Park in the late morning, a visit to the little street market where rare imported snacks were sold (he remembered her eyes lighting up at sweet bean buns), and then lunch at a quiet riverside restaurant that Kiryuu had sworn was the "best date spot in the prefecture." It even had private booths with floor seating—just the kind of atmosphere Tamamo would enjoy lounging in.
And after that? He had a few more things up his sleeve. And maybe a chance to just… talk. Learn more about her.
'She deserves that.' He thought, his smile softening.
Then his brow furrowed slightly as another face drifted into view—Yuuka's. And her date was scheduled the day after. He could already imagine her gentle smile, the way she'd try to hide her nervousness behind snarky remarks. She'd been looking forward to it, and he hadn't missed the way her eyes sparkled when he promised they'd have a day just for them.
'One day at a time.' He reminded himself, pulling the blanket over his chest.
He rolled onto his side, eyes still open in the dark, thoughts drifting. There was a strange weight in his chest—not bad, just full. Every new connection he made, every bond deepened with the girls around him, made him feel more grounded… more responsible. It wasn't just about collecting girls for his harem or his love for big breasts. It was about them. Their happiness. Their hearts. And that was a lot to carry. But he wouldn't have it any other way.
From the depths of his soul, he heard a sleepy growl of amusement.
(Your thoughts are sickening.) Ddraig muttered.
Issei chuckled. "Just thinking."
(You always 'just think' when you're about to do something stupid or noble. Usually both.)
"Thanks for the vote of confidence."
(Hmph. Just don't faint if the girl tries going further.)
Issei rolled his eyes but couldn't stop the smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, yeah… I'll try not to pass out."
The room fell quiet again, save for the sound of his steady breathing. The tension in his limbs gradually faded as sleep began to creep in, tugging gently at the edges of his consciousness.
'Tomorrow… I'll make sure it's special.' he thought, eyes finally drifting closed. 'For her. And then for Yuuka. One day at a time…'
Soon the girls come into the room and laid beside him. Grabbing a piece of him that strangely didn't wake him up.
—-------------------------------
Night, Warehouse
The air inside the warehouse was stale and reeked of rust, mold, and something far fouler—something that made Karasuba's lips twitch in a savage smile. The night wind whistled low through the shattered windows, carrying the scent of blood on its breath. Pale moonlight poured through the holes in the roof, illuminating dust and grit that danced with every step she took across the cracked concrete.
'Finally.' She thought, brushing a gloved hand over the hilt of her sword. 'This isn't just another false lead or a wandering animal crossing into my path. This is something… different.
For the past two nights, Karasuba had wandered Kuoh's outskirts, following rumors of bodies turning up mangled and torn beyond recognition—blood drained, bones shattered, eyes frozen in terror. At first, she thought it might be ghost stories that the people made up, but what she had found instead was worse. The scent of something wrong. Not human. And tonight, that trail had led her here.
She stepped into the warehouse, every muscle coiled with a predator's grace. Her heeled boots crunched faintly on broken glass. The silence was thick—unnatural. She narrowed her eyes.
The blood smeared on the walls wasn't old. It glistened under the moonlight, still wet. Finger marks dragged through it. A trail of crimson led deeper into the warehouse's interior, where the shadows thickened like a curtain.
She followed it. Then—movement.
A slithering noise echoed faintly from above, and her instinct flared. With a sudden pivot, Karasuba leapt back, just as a mass of fleshy, glistening tentacles slammed into the floor where she'd stood. The impact cracked the concrete, sending fragments flying. Dust and blood mist billowed into the air.
Karasuba landed on one knee, sword already drawn in a flash of silver.
"I see." she said, her voice low and amused. "You're not shy, are you?"
The tentacles retracted with an almost wet squelch, writhing back into the shadows like worms. They clung to the walls, pulsating with an alien rhythm. A grotesque clicking sound echoed from somewhere above, like bones tapping together.
Then she saw it.
Descending slowly from the ceiling, upside down, clinging with clawed limbs and anchored by sinewy cords of muscle and flesh, was the creature. It had no face, just a mass of shifting flesh and orifices—multiple eyes blinked erratically across its form, and its lower body was a mass of tentacles ending in serrated tips.
Karasuba's grin widened.
"Oh, now that's disgusting."
The creature hissed, a low, bubbling noise, as more tentacles began to slither across the walls toward her, sensing her heat, her presence, her heartbeat.
But she didn't retreat.
This… This is what I've been waiting for.
Two nights of silence. Two nights of disappointment. The ache in her blade-hand finally found a reason to exist.
She shifted into a stance, one foot forward, blade lowered but ready.
"You're not human." She said softly. "And you're certainly not innocent. So that means…" She dashed forward, slicing cleanly through the first tentacle that lunged at her. Black ichor splattered across the ground, sizzling where it landed. "...Issei and the rest won't mind if I cut you into tiny pieces."
The creature let out a shriek, the kind of sound that didn't belong to this world.
It lunged.
Tentacles burst from the walls, the ground, even the ceiling, all targeting Karasuba at once—striking with terrifying speed and force. But she was faster. She danced between them, her blade moving like a silver whisper through the dark. Each strike was precise, elegant, and fatal. One tentacle dropped twitching to the ground. Then another.
"Too slow," she murmured.
One tendril managed to graze her cheek, slicing it shallowly. A thin line of blood welled up.
Her eyes lit up in delight.
The blade in her hand trembled slightly—not from fear, but anticipation.
This thing can actually hit me. It can fight.
She laughed—a wild, beautiful sound that echoed throughout the warehouse like the chime of madness.
"Now we're talking!"
More tendrils erupted, and the creature lunged at her full-body this time, its hulking mass slamming forward, trying to overwhelm her through sheer brute force. It succeeded in shattering one of the support beams, which collapsed with a groan of twisting metal.
Karasuba slid under its lunge, flipped over a tangle of limbs, and stabbed upward. Her sword sank deep into the creature's underside, eliciting another blood-curdling shriek. It thrashed, but she held on, twisting her blade.
"You bleed. You scream. You fight. Oh, you're perfect."
The monster tossed her aside with a surge of strength, sending her skidding across the dusty floor. She landed on her feet, panting, her chest rising and falling with exhilaration.
Blood trickled down her face.
She didn't care. She ran her tongue across her lip and grinned. "This is so much fun."
As the moon continued to rise outside, casting its pale light upon the battlefield, the sounds of steel and shrieks began to echo through the night—unholy and beautiful.
And Karasuba? She had finally found her dance partner.
Karasuba cracked her neck to one side, her breath steady despite the gash on her cheek and the soreness blooming in her muscles. She hadn't had a fight like this. since Uzume was boosted in strength—one that demanded her full attention, her full speed, her full bloodlust.
Across from her, the creature trembled. Its wounds dripped steaming ichor onto the ground, sizzling like acid. The mass of eyes across its body flicked wildly, tracking her movements. Then something changed.
A deep pulse—low, like the distant beat of a war drum—rippled through the air.
Karasuba's smile faltered slightly as she felt it: a surge of energy. Foul, ancient, and unnaturally cold. The creature's body began to shift again—its wounds knitting together, its torn appendages regrowing with squelching efficiency.
"Regeneration?" She muttered, straightening up and watching warily. "Tch. That's cheating."
But then it happened. The creature raised its upper mass toward the ceiling, and the air grew dense, pressure weighing down like a storm front. Glyphs—glowing, angular, and entirely alien—lit up in concentric rings around its core. A deep chant began to echo, not from a mouth, but from the walls, the floor, the very space around them.
Karasuba's grip tightened on her sword. Feeling the familiar energy surround her.
Magic.
In the blink of an eye, a sphere of crimson lightning erupted from the beast's core, arcing like a thunderstorm. Bolts of red crackled across the warehouse, shattering what few intact windows remained.
But Karasuba was quick and jumped from the AOE attack. "Ohhh…" She breathed, her eyes gleaming. "Now that's more like it."
The monster launched a bolt of crimson lightning toward her, fast and furious. Karasuba dodged, barely, feeling the static sizzle along her skin. The bolt struck the wall behind her—and vaporized it. Not shattered. Not burned.
Gone.
"Alright, alright…" Karasuba said, taking a step back, her voice still calm but tinged with a kind of manic excitement. "You've got tricks. I like that."
She crouched low and leapt forward, blade singing in the air. The creature responded with another wave of tentacles, now crackling with energy. Each strike it launched now had weight—force behind it, infused with whatever eldritch magic it was channeling.
Karasuba's blade danced in her hands, slicing through limb after limb, but they kept coming. One managed to wrap around her ankle mid-air and slammed her into the ground with brutal force. Dust exploded around her on impact.
She coughed, eyes narrowed. "Bastard's learning."
The ground beneath her glowed. A new attack that could very well kill her. Her instincts screamed to move.
Without hesitation, she thrust her blade into the floor and launched herself up, just as spikes of obsidian erupted from beneath—piercing upward like a minefield of spears.
Mid-air again, she spun, hurling a blade-shaped projectile of energy from her sword—her own technique, a compressed shockwave from a precise slash. It sliced through several tentacles and struck the monster's core, staggering it slightly.
It howled in response—this time in a language. Not in any known form.
But Karasuba understood the intent behind it.
Anger. Rage. Pain.
She grinned, blood trickling from her lip now.
"You're pissed. Good. Let's see how far that gets you."
The creature's body split open horizontally, revealing a glowing mass inside—a heart made of pulsing runes and flesh. Karasuba's sharp eyes locked onto it.
Before she could act, however, the creature unleashed its next spell. A field of gravity burst forth from its body—dense, crushing, slowing her movements. Her knees buckled slightly under the sudden force. Her sword arm wavered.
Her breath caught in her throat.
"Now gravity?" She hissed, struggling to stay upright. "Not fair."
Then she laughed again. Mad, thrilled, and dangerous.
"But this won't help you." She didn't know why but soon a flash of her Ashikabi came to her mind. His face filled with worry at the thought of her hurt. She definitely didn't want him to think of her as a failure.
Her body flared with energy—Her Tama pushed to the brink. The warehouse floor cracked beneath her as she forced her body upright through sheer will. Her sword ignited with her aura, glowing faintly with an ethereal black sheen.
"Let me show you…" She said, raising her blade overhead, her stance shifting to a deadly calm. "...Why they call me the Black Sekirei of Death."
And then she vanished.
A sonic boom tore through the warehouse as she closed the distance between them in an instant, her blade trailing behind her. The creature roared, tentacles lashing, a barrier forming—
Too late.
Her sword cleaved through the barrier, through the defenses, through the core.
A flash of black light.
A spray of ichor.
And silence.
Karasuba stood behind the beast, her back turned. Her blade hissed as it cooled in the night air. Behind her, the creature trembled once… then collapsed in on itself, its body melting into a pool of black sludge that evaporated into smoke.
She didn't move for a few seconds, catching her breath.
Then, finally, she straightened and sheathed her blade.
"Hah… damn. I needed that."
As the moonlight bathed her form in silver, Karasuba walked out of the warehouse with slow, confident steps. Her coat fluttered behind her in the wind, the taste of adrenaline and blood still fresh on her tongue.
"Now," she said to herself, lips curling upward, "I wonder if I should tell Issei about this. Or maybe… keep it as a surprise."
—-----------------------------------
Two hours later.
A tall girl with long crimson hair, clad in a school uniform, walked slowly through the wreckage of a ruined warehouse. The structure was barely standing—walls caved in, the ground scorched and torn apart. Around her, several other students in matching uniforms observed the damage with grim expressions, trying to make sense of the devastation.
Rias Gremory narrowed her eyes, inspecting the destruction with a thoughtful frown. 'What the hell happened here?'
"Buchou, it's no good," a short white-haired girl said, shaking her head in disappointment as she pinched her nose. "I can't figure out what happened. Just that... it smells really rotten."
"Ara, I wonder what it could be?" mused a tall, graceful girl with long black hair tied in a ponytail. Her voice was tinged with curiosity. "We felt that wave of devastating magic from here... but I haven't heard of any Stray Devils in our area." She paused, scanning the warehouse. "And I don't sense even a trace of demonic energy."
Rias turned toward her Queen. "Akeno, do you think it could have been a hungry Youkai? One bold enough to come into my territory looking for a fight?"
Akeno shook her head. "No… this doesn't feel like one of them either."
"Hey, Buchou," called a blond-haired boy wearing the male version of their uniform. He was crouched by a shattered wall, examining deep gashes in the concrete and steel. "I think these marks were made by a sword. Clean, precise cuts. Whoever did this… must be a skilled swordsman."
"At least that's something to go on," Rias replied with a sigh, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Good work, Yuuto. Let's keep looking. Whoever did this invaded our territory and harmed people under our protection. We need to find out who they are… and why they're here."
—--------------------------------------
Saturday, 6th of December, Hyoudou Household
The sun had barely crested the horizon, casting gentle gold across the Hyoudou residence. Morning dew clung to the grass outside, and inside, soft shuffling could be heard in the kitchen.
Tamamo-no-Mae, dressed in a pale lavender blouse and a blue skirt with a white apron over it, hummed to herself as she wiped down the table with delicate precision. Her two tails swished lazily behind her in rhythm with her mood—a mixture of anticipation and joy. Today was her date with Issei. A whole day with her beloved. Just the two of them. Nothing was going to ruin this.
Miya, ever graceful, moved beside her with a warm smile, slicing vegetables with surgical precision. Her miko outfit's sleeves were rolled up, and despite the modesty of her attire, she exuded elegance in everything she did. She glanced sideways at Tamamo.
"You're unusually chipper this morning, Tamamo-san," Miya said, her voice soft and teasing, like a gentle breeze rustling cherry blossoms.
Tamamo giggled, a faint pink hue touching her cheeks. "Can you blame me, Miya? Today's my day. I've already picked out the outfit."
Miya chuckled. "Just be sure to let him eat."
Then—a knock.
Both women froze. Their heads turned toward the door in perfect synchronicity, their ears twitching slightly in irritation from the timing. A brief glance was exchanged.
"Who could that be at this hour?" Miya murmured.
"I swear," Tamamo said, setting down the cloth with a sigh, "if it's someone from the neighborhood wanting to talk to Issei about how he got the harem again…"
She made her way to the entrance, Miya a step behind her, both women prepared for the minor nuisance of early morning visitors.
But the moment the door swung open, any illusions of peace shattered.
Standing before them was Karasuba.
The infamous Black Sekirei leaned casually against the doorframe, looking like she had walked straight out of a warzone. Her black coat was torn in multiple places, the shoulder of her uniform torn, and dried blood—most of it not her own—streaked across her cheek, her arms, and the edge of her blade. A self-satisfied smirk curled her lips, her red eyes gleaming with post-battle bliss.
"Yo," she greeted, lifting a hand lazily. "Morning."
Tamamo's eye twitched.
Miya's smile remained on her face—but it was the kind of smile that made strong men cry.
"Karasuba." Miya said sweetly. "Is there a reason you're tracking dirt and blood all over our freshly cleaned floor?"
Tamamo's tails flared in agitation as she grabbed the nearest broom like a weapon. "Do you have any idea how long I spent scrubbing the floors yesterday?!"
Karasuba blinked, then looked down. Sure enough, bloody boot prints trailed behind her, some with reddish smears.
"…Oops."
"Oops?!" Tamamo snapped, brandishing the broom like a sword. "This is Issei's home! You don't just barge in, covered in filth like some stray dog!"
Miya's aura, though subtle, suddenly turned ominous. Her smile widened fractionally. "Karasuba… would you like to explain what happened before you are escorted to the bath with… enthusiasm?"
Karasuba scratched her cheek sheepishly, her smirk not wavering. "Relax, you two. I had a great night. Found something… interesting."
Tamamo narrowed her eyes. "What kind of 'something'?"
"A monster," Karasuba said, her tone now more serious, yet tinged with glee. "Real nasty piece of work. Tentacles, magic. It was eating people in an old warehouse near the eastern edge of the city. Took some effort, but I killed it."
That caught their attention.
Tamamo's ears twitched. Miya's smile faded just slightly, replaced by a contemplative look.
"Do you have any idea what that thing was?" Miya asked.
"Not sure. It made me wonder if it was even from this world," Karasuba said, stepping inside uninvited and causing both women to grit their teeth. "And it was killing people. I found bodies—what was left of them. Whoever or whatever it was, Issei wouldn't have a problem with me ending it."
Tamamo and Miya exchanged a glance, concern rising beneath their irritation.
"If it was that dangerous…" Tamamo muttered.
"We'll need to inform Issei-kun," Miya agreed. "Though not immediately. Let him rest. Today is Tamamo-san's special day and tomorrow is Yuuka's."
Tamamo blinked and flushed pink again, distracted momentarily from the seriousness. "R-Right!"
Karasuba started removing her coat right there in the hall, eliciting a twin cry of horror.
"Don't strip here!" both women yelled.
"Okay, okay," Karasuba said with a roll of her eyes. "I'll go bathe. I could use one anyway."
She turned to head toward the bath, but not before flashing a teasing grin. "Maybe I should get Issei to wake up and take a bath with me."
Tamamo threw a kitchen sponge at her head with supernatural precision.
As Karasuba disappeared into the hall, muttering something about "Not letting her enjoy the anything." Tamamo groaned and rubbed her temples.
"She is going to ruin the mood for my date, I just know it."
Miya patted her shoulder gently. "Just think of it this way… you can spend the entire day with Issei-kun knowing that she is not."
Tamamo's ears perked. Her tails lifted again. A mischievous smile played across her lips.
"You're right… and I'll make sure he's so satisfied by the end of the day that he doesn't even remember anyone else exists."
"Good girl," Miya chuckled. "Now come, we have breakfast to finish."
They returned to the kitchen, the scent of rice and grilled fish filling the air once again. Outside, the morning sun shone brightly. Inside, the women of the house worked in perfect rhythm—each of them moving around the same central thought.
Their beloved.
—----------------------------
The Next Day
The morning sunlight trickled in through the blinds, casting soft golden stripes over the futon where Issei Hyoudou lay buried beneath a pile of blankets and warm bodies. A peaceful sigh escaped his lips as he stirred, arms wrapped instinctively around the women beside him. Their breathing was gentle, steady—Yuuka on one side, Akitsu on the other, and Yashima tucked just behind him. The gentle warmth of the room and the scent of freshly cleaned sheets almost lulled him back into sleep.
Until he heard the sound of running water.
Shhhhhh…
The faint hiss of the shower turning on broke through the sleepy haze of his thoughts. Issei blinked a few times, groggily processing the sound. He lifted his head, messy brown hair sticking up in all directions, and glanced at the bedroom door.
'Who the showering this early?' He wondered, rubbing his eyes.
Then it hit him.
'Wait…' His eyes widened slightly as his mind rebooted fully. 'Today's the day. My date with Tamamo!'
Careful not to disturb the others, Issei began the intricate task of slipping out of bed. He moved like a man defusing a bomb—slowly peeling Yuuka's arm from around his leg, gently removing Akitsu's hand from his chest. A low grumble came from one of them, but none stirred fully. He exhaled in relief as his feet finally hit the wooden floor.
He got dressed quickly—just enough to look decent—and stepped into the hallway, where a familiar face was already waiting.
Sakura.
The little girl stood there with her usual blank but oddly intense expression, her purple hair tied neatly in two low pigtails. Her red eyes sparkled ever so faintly as she noticed him.
"Papa."
"Hey, Sakura," Issei greeted with a smile, running a hand through his bedhead. "You're up early too, huh?"
Sakura nodded once. "Mama and Mama Miya were making noise earlier. I didn't want to go back to sleep."
"Fair." He chuckled. "Wanna go eat breakfast?"
She nodded again, this time with a little more energy, and quietly slipped her small hand into his. Together, they padded down the hallway toward the dining room.
The smell of fresh miso soup, grilled fish, and rice wafted through the air, welcoming them like an old friend. The table had already been beautifully set—no doubt Tamamo and Miya's handiwork. Sakura took her seat and Issei sat beside her.
Not even five seconds passed before Sakura turned to him with those big, unblinking purple eyes and asked innocently, "Can I come too?"
Issei blinked. "Huh?"
"To your date. With Mama."
Issei nearly choked on his first bite of rice. "W-Wait, what? How did you even—"
"I heard," Sakura replied simply. "Mama said last night she wanted Papa to herself today. But I want to come too."
He hesitated, shifting awkwardly in his seat. He wanted to say no. Today was supposed to be special—just him and Tamamo. A date he'd planned out in detail. Sakura tagging along would turn it from romantic to… well… parenting.
But before he could open his mouth, she unleashed her trump card.
Sakura tilted her head, puffed out her lower lip ever so slightly, and widened her eyes in a soft, glassy stare that seemed to pierce straight into his soul.
"…Please?"
The sheer weight of that look crashed against Issei like a tidal wave. His heart faltered. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Ddraig snorted with laughter.
(You are undone by a child, Partner. Pathetic.)
Issei gave her a weak smile. "Well… I mean… we could probably—"
"Good morning," came Tamamo's soft voice from the kitchen door as she entered, drying her hands on a towel. Her eyes lit up the moment she saw Issei, but then paused when she noticed Sakura sitting at the table with a very expectant expression.
"Oh no…" she whispered under her breath.
"Mama." Sakura said sweetly, "Can I come with you and Papa today?"
Tamamo blinked. Her ears twitched. She opened her mouth, then closed it. Like Issei, she wanted to say no—but the moment Sakura hit her with the same wide-eyed look she'd just used on Issei, Tamamo physically recoiled as if struck by a metaphysical force.
"I… um…"
"Please?"
Tamamo turned to Issei, who looked equally defeated.
They stared at each other in silence for a moment, mutual understanding and apology passing between them like telepathy.
'So much for the romantic getaway…'
Still, Tamamo managed a warm smile as she reached over to pet Sakura's head.
"Alright, little one. You can come."
"Yay!" Sakura said with more emotion than usual, which was still very soft-spoken, but noticeable. She clapped her hands together once and returned to eating with delicate care.
Issei chuckled, leaning back slightly and shaking his head. "Well, I guess it's not a couple's date anymore." hHe said.
Tamamo walked over and kissed his cheek, whispering close to his ear, "Don't worry, Darling. We can still make it our time."
A shiver ran down Issei's spine, and he cleared his throat awkwardly as Sakura blinked at him with innocent confusion.
Still… even with the interruption, he couldn't help but smile. 'Maybe it won't be exactly the day I planned… but with both of them by my side? It'll be a day worth remembering.'