04/04/2012, Kuoh Academy, After School
The first day of school had passed without problems, and Makoto was currently waiting for Ryoji outside of the school gates.
"Ehy Makoto!" Ryoji greeted him. "Where have you gone during lunch time?"
"I was at the Student Council," answered Makoto.
"Got in trouble?" teased Ryoji.
"Just kidding. By the way, I talked with two girls. They asked me if I was interested in joining the kendo club. And so I made your name."
"Why?" Makoto asked back.
"Why? You are seriously asking me that question? I told them you were pretty good with fencing, which is true, so what do you think about it?" Ryoji smiled, waiting for Makoto's answer.
"I don't think I have much of a choice," answered Makoto defeatedly, making Ryoji laugh. "Let's go,"
Meanwhile, in the Occult Research Club, Rias was looking through the window at Ryoji and Makoto.
"What are you looking at, Rias?" asked Akeno, looking in the same direction Rias was.
"That boy... Ryoji Mochizuki. You noticed it too today in class?" Rias said without averting her gaze.
"He's already quite popular, and it's just been a day. He has an uncommon charm," said Akeno as the two third-years talked.
Then the door opened and Koneko entered the clubroom.
"Hello, Koneko," said Akeno, greeting her comrade. Koneko looked at Rias, who was still deep in thought.
"President?" She looked confused, seeing Rias behaving like this.
"Sorry, Koneko. I was watching someone," said Rias, sitting down.
"Was it senpai Mochizuki?" asked the rook.
"Yes, actually. Have you noticed anything?" asked Rias, interested.
"When I'm near him, I feel something strange. He has something deep within him," said Koneko while munching on some snacks.
"Do you think he has a Sacred Gear?" Rias asked, hoping for an answer that could help her situation.
"It could be," answered the young girl with some candies in her mouth.
"Akeno, what do you say?" Rias asked to her queen.
"I agree with Koneko."
"Well, let's be watchful, then," decided Rias, taking a sip from the cup of tea Akeno had just offered her.
"Rias, have you considered asking Elizabeth for help?" asked Akeno.
"Maybe I could hire her as a pact magician, but I'm not sure," answered Rias.
Meanwhile Ryoji brought Makoto to the school's gymnasium, where they met a pink-haired girl.
"Hello, I'm Katase. It's nice to meet you, Yuki," the girl said, looking at Makoto. "Mochizuki told me that you know how to fence, right?"
Makoto just nodded.
"Would you like to have a friendly spar?" asked Katase.
"No," answered Makoto, surprising both Ryoji and Katase.
"What? Makoto, what are you saying?" said Ryoji. Makoto didn't answer.
"Ehy, no problem. If you change your mind, I'm here," said Katase reassuringly. Ryoji looked at Makoto, trying to understand him, but he failed.
They were walking home, and Makoto was more silent than usual, deeply hidden behind his music. "Makoto, what's the matter?" asked Ryoji, concerned. Makoto didn't answer. "Makoto, please don't bottle up your feelings."
"I'm going home alone," said Makoto, separating from Ryoji.
Makoto didn't know where he was going. He was just walking without direction, deep in thought.
'Universe, tell us what the problem is,' said Kohryu.
'The dragon's right, Universe. We are here to help you,' said Thoth.
'Everything's fine,' lied Makoto to his other selves. His personas tried to reach for him, but Makoto ignored them.
The park was quiet, save for the rustle of cherry blossoms drifting lazily in the breeze. Makoto slumped on a weathered bench, his blue hair stark against the muted greens of the trees. His eyes, dull and distant, fixed on nothing, until the crunch of gravel broke the stillness.
"A kid like you, brooding alone in a place like this? C'mon, life can't be that bad."
The voice was smooth, edged with amusement. Makoto turned to see a man leaning against a lamppost, arms crossed.
He was tall but unassuming, dressed in a tailored leather jacket that clashed with his anachronistic flair, jet-black hair streaked with gold at the front, a goatee framing a smirk that didn't quite reach his sharp, golden eyes.
Makoto blinked. "...Just thinking."
"Mind if I join?" The man didn't wait for an answer, dropping onto the bench with a theatrical sigh. "Y'know, when I see a young man sulking this hard, I gotta ask—girl trouble? Family drama? Existential dread?" He grinned, nudging Makoto's arm.
The boy tensed but didn't pull away. "It's… nothing."
"Nothing, huh?" The man leaned back, studying him. "Let me guess: you're the type who bottles it all up, plays hero, then wonders why the world feels heavy."
His tone shifted, the playful veneer slipping. "Here's some free advice, kid. Hold onto the ones who see you. Without that…" He shrugged. "Hell, even fallen angels get lonely," he said with a sly smile.
Makoto finally met his gaze, curiosity piercing his apathy. "Who are you?"
The man's grin returned, sharp as a blade. "Azazel. And you?"
"Makoto Yuki."
Azazel's hand shot out, a calloused palm offered like a challenge. "Pleasure's mine, Makoto. Remember what I said, yeah? Love's the only cheat code in this rigged game."
Makoto hesitated, then shook his hand. Azazel's grip was firm, his eyes glinting with secrets the boy couldn't yet parse.
I am Thou. Thou art I. Thou hast established a new bond. Thou shalt have the Universe blessing when choosing to create Personas of the Councillor Arcana.
As Makoto heard Elizabeth's voice, he felt a stinging pain in his head. He grabbed his head in pain. "Ehy, kid, are you okay?" asked Azazel, looking at the boy. Makoto heard his personas fighting, but he couldn't discern the voices through the pain.
Then he heard the voice of Lucifer. 'THIS CREATURE IS THE COUNCILLOR? AZAZEL!' He heard Lucifer screaming, making him crumble in pain.
Azazel stopped Makoto from falling and held him, something awakening inside his heart—something that had been hidden for millennia.
Azazel's grip tightened as Makoto swayed, the boy's trembling frame a stark contrast to the storm raging inside the fallen angel.
'Holiness.'
The sensation clawed up his spine, not the brittle, borrowed sanctity of sacred gears or relics, but something raw and radiant, shuddering through him like sunlight breaking through millennia of ash. It scalded. It healed.
For a heartbeat, he was no longer Governor of the Fallen, no longer a creature of cunning and corrosion. He was Azazel, the angel he once was, the one who had knelt in celestial choirs, whose hands had sculpted stars, whose heart had known devotion before it curdled into ambition.
'Impossible.'
Makoto's ragged breaths snapped him back. Azazel stared at the boy, his mind a tempest. This wasn't like Vali—not something that had started as calculated mentorship to mold a weapon, only to become something genuine later. This was… aching.
The boy's pain was a mirror reflecting shadows Azazel had buried eons ago, the angel who had wept for humanity, who had believed in more than power, who had fallen for daring to dream and love. And now, here, in this mortal's presence…
'Why does it burn so sweetly?'
He knelt, instinct overriding millennia of icy pragmatism. "Breathe. In and out. I'm here." The words slipped out, soft and foreign on his tongue.
'Since when do I comfort? Since when do I care like this?'
Makoto's eyes met his, blue and depthless, and Azazel's chest constricted. Not Father, never Father, but… a resonance. A flicker of that same maddening, divine certainty that had once made him rage at heaven's tyranny.
Yet this boy carried it gently, unknowingly, like a lantern in the dark.
'Is this redemption?'
The thought was a blade. Fallen Angels did not redeem. They bargained. They schemed. They clawed through eternity wearing their rebellion like armor. But here, now, Azazel's hands, stained with war and hubris, steadied a human child, and for the first time in ages, they did not feel unclean.
He laughed inwardly, bitter and awed. Pathetic. Centuries spent dissecting sacred gears, manipulating fate, and it took a fragile mortal to unravel him with a single, silent cry for help. Makoto's presence was a key turning in a lock he'd forgotten existed, and Azazel hated it. Hated how it terrified him. Hated how he couldn't let go.
'UNIVERSE, LET ME DESTROY THIS COWARD! LET MY STARS BURN HIM!' Lucifer shouted in rage.
'You are hurting the Universe, Lucifer. Stop this now!' ordered Orpheus Telos, but Lucifer did not listen.
'I'M DOING THIS FOR HIM TOO, MUSICIAN! THE SOONER HE'S DEAD, THE BETTER!' Lucifer tried to manifest himself, but he didn't seem to succeed.
'Morning Star, this is not the Azazel you know,' said Kohryu, trying to calm down the situation.
'You are being inconsiderate, Lucifer,' admonished Apollo.
'Vengeance is not the path we follow, my companion!' proclaimed Robin Hood.
'Makoto's in pain, dear brother. You can feel it too, right?' As Helel spoke to his devil-self, Lucifer calmed down. He then felt the pain his other self was going through.
'I beg your pardon... Makoto,' eventually said the first of the angels.
'Thank you for solving this mess, Helel,' said Thoth, thanking Lucifer's other part.
Azazel made Makoto lay down and sighed in relief when he saw the boy was no longer in pain.
"I'm sorry," said an ashamed Makoto.
"No, don't be," Azazel tried to reassure the boy but noticed that he was unnerved himself.
"I have to go home," said Makoto, standing up.
"Right, yes, of course... Well, see you another time, boy," said Azazel, hiding his nervousness and saying goodbye to the boy.
'What a day,' thought the fallen angel. 'I need something strong to drink.'
04/04/2012, Velvet Room, Evening
When Makoto entered the Velvet Room, the air felt heavier than usual, the blue hues of the room pressing down on his shoulders like a weight he couldn't shake.
Elizabeth, perched elegantly on her chair, tilted her head as she studied him with her piercing, otherworldly gaze.
"You seem... troubled, Makoto," she said, her voice melodic yet slightly altered by seeing Makoto like that. "Is everything quite all right?"
Makoto sighed, running a hand through his blue hair, his exhaustion evident in the slump of his shoulders.
"Just... a rough day," he muttered, avoiding her eyes. He wasn't in the mood to elaborate, not when the weight of the world felt like it was crushing him.
Elizabeth rose gracefully, her movements theatrical, as if she was performing for an audience only she could see.
"Ah, I see," she said, her voice lilting with a strange mix of curiosity and amusement. "Humans often seek comfort in such moments, do they not?"
Before Makoto could respond, she stepped closer, her presence both comforting and awkward, and wrapped her arms around him in an embrace that felt sincere.
"There, there," she murmured, her tone comforting behind a mask of playfulness. "Better now?"
Makoto hesitated, then slowly returned the hug, his weariness momentarily giving way to a sense of relief. "Yeah... a little, thanks Liz," he admitted, his voice soft. He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching hers. "Is Ryoji back?"
Elizabeth's expression shifted, a flicker of something unreadable passing across her face. "No," she replied simply, her voice carrying a note of solemnity. "Not yet, at least."
Makoto nodded, his gaze dropping to the floor. "When he gets back... tell him I'm sorry," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He turned toward the stairs, his movements sluggish, as if every step required more effort than he could muster.
"I'm going to sleep."
Elizabeth watched him go, her head tilting again, a faint smile playing on her lips. "I'll be sure to relay your message," she called after him, her tone light but tinged with an enigmatic warmth.
As Makoto disappeared up the stairs, she added softly, almost to herself, "Rest well, dear guest. The night is long, but even the weariest souls find solace in dreams."