April 13th, 2012, Occult Research Club, Late Afternoon
The Occult Research Clubroom felt oppressively still. The first rays of the setting sun streamed through the tall windows, painting long, accusatory shadows across the floor and illuminating dust motes dancing in the heavy air. The silence was shattered by a sudden, violent crash.
"Damn Satan to the deepest pits of the Underworld!"
Rias Gremory's shout was a raw, furious thing, torn from a place of deep, helpless frustration. She slammed her open palm down onto the surface of her ornate desk with such force that a delicate ceramic pot, a gift from Akeno, leaped into the air, seemed to hang for a moment, and then plummeted to the hardwood floor, shattering into a dozen jagged pieces.
Soil scattered like dark blood, and the small, resilient flower within laid upturned, its roots exposed.
The red-haired heiress stood trembling, her knuckles white where they gripped the edge of the desk. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps. The anger evaporated as quickly as it had ignited, leaving behind a hollow, aching exhaustion.
She slumped heavily into her plush armchair, the fight draining out of her, and let out another sigh, this one so deep and full of despair it seemed to suck the very light from the room.
A soft, hesitant creak came from the door. It opened just a crack, revealing one wide, golden eye and a shock of white hair.
"P-president?" Koneko Toujou's small voice was tentative, filled with worry. "Are you okay?" She pushed the door open a little further, her small frame poised for flight or comfort, unsure which was needed.
Rias looked up, and the sight of her smallest, most stoic peerage member broke through the remains of her fury. Her expression crumpled into one of profound sorrow and immediate regret.
"Koneko... I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice hoarse. "I didn't mean to shout. I didn't mean to scare you." She offered a weak, apologetic smile that didn't reach her eyes.
Koneko simply stared, her usual impassive mask softened by concern. She took a cautious step into the room, her gaze flicking from Rias's distraught face to the tragic remains of the pot on the floor. She didn't know what to say, what words could possibly fix whatever had caused such an outburst.
So she stayed near the door, a silent, steadfast sentinel, hoping her presence alone might offer some small comfort.
The door pushed open more fully. Akeno Himejima stood there, her elegant features etched with immediate concern.
"Rias? What happened? I heard something break."
Her dark eyes quickly scanned the scene: the shattered pottery, the spilled soil, Koneko's worried stillness, and Rias, looking smaller and more defeated than Akeno had seen her in years. Her playful demeanor vanished, replaced by a protective intensity.
"Rias," she said again, her voice softer, stepping fully into the room and letting the door swing shut. "Are you okay?"
Rias just shook her head, unable to form words. She bit her lower lip, a futile effort to stop its trembling.
Akeno didn't hesitate. She crossed the room in a few swift strides, her heels clicking softly on the floor, and knelt beside Rias's chair. Without a word, she wrapped her arms around her king, pulling her into a firm, reassuring embrace. Rias stiffened for a fraction of a second before melting into the hug, her face burying itself in Akeno's shoulder.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Akeno murmured, her voice a gentle hum against Rias's ear.
Koneko remained by the door, a silent witness. She felt a pang of uselessness, unsure how to help in the way Akeno could. So she decided her role was to stand guard, to ensure they wouldn't be disturbed, to offer her quiet support by simply being there.
"You already know, Akeno," Rias mumbled into her shoulder, her voice muffled and thick with unshed tears.
The two girls—queen and king—stayed like that for a long moment, a silent understanding passing between them. Finally, Rias pulled back, taking a deep, shuddering breath to steady herself. She looked at Akeno, her violet eyes glistening.
"My father," she began, the words tasting like ash. "He... he decided to anticipate the marriage."
Akeno's breath hitched. Her mind had been racing through possibilities—a failed devil job, a dispute with Sona, trouble with the fallen angels. She had braced for something bad, but this was a cataclysm.
"What? When? Why?" The questions tumbled out, her voice rising in pitch with each one. She had feared Riser Phenex might have done something to provoke this, but this was a direct, brutal move from their own side.
They were supposed to have time. Time to grow stronger, time to find a solution, time to maybe, just maybe, challenge Riser to a Rating Game when they were of age and had a full, powerful peerage. This stole all of that.
Rias looked at her queen, a bitter, broken smile twisting her beautiful features. "Father said it is for the sake of our race. For the 'stability of the Underworld.' He and Lord Phenex came to an agreement. The marriage... it's now set for the 30th of this month." She forced the words out, each one a hammer blow to her own future.
The color drained from Akeno's face. Koneko, by the door, went perfectly still, her usual placid expression replaced by one of stunned horror.
"This month?" Akeno's voice was a disbelieving whisper, then it sharpened into a shout. "What!? That's in two weeks! That's impossible!"
Rias looked away, her shoulders slumping in defeat.
"Maybe... maybe Father is right," she whispered, the fight utterly gone from her. "Maybe this is my duty. Maybe wanting anything else... maybe I'm just being selfish."
The sound was sharp and startling in the quiet room. Akeno's hand, moving with swift certainty, slapped Rias across the cheek. It wasn't a hard blow, but it was enough to snap Rias's head to the side and jolt her from her spiral of despair.
"What are you saying!?" Akeno's voice was fierce, her own eyes now shining with furious, protective tears. "What about your dreams? Your freedom? The life you want to build for yourself, for us? You can't just give up! I won't let you!"
"B-but what can we do?" Rias stuttered, her hand going to her stinging cheek, not in anger, but in shock. The hopelessness in her voice was a physical weight. "It's my father and the head of the Phenex family. We're just... students."
"We will find a way," Akeno insisted, her voice trembling with emotion but unwavering in its conviction. She grabbed Rias's hands, squeezing them tightly. "We always do."
"Yes," Koneko's soft, firm voice came from the doorway. She had taken a step forward, her small fists clenched at her sides. Her gaze was steady, offering her king the full force of her quiet, immense loyalty.
Rias looked from Akeno's fierce, tear-streaked face to Koneko's determined one. The crushing weight of her despair seemed to lighten, just a fraction, under the warmth of their unwavering support. She took another deep breath, this one steadier. The tears still threatened, but they were no longer tears of surrender. She nodded, a flicker of her old resolve rekindling in her eyes. "You're right," she said, her voice gaining a shred of its usual strength. "You're both right."
April 13th, 2012, Kuoh Forest, Late Afternoon
Deep within the dense woods that bordered Kuoh Town, where the sunlight struggled to pierce the thick canopy, a figure dragged itself through the undergrowth. Each movement was a fresh agony, a ragged, wet sound of pain escaping its lips.
'It hurts... it hurts so much...'
The thought was a broken mantra in its mind. It was a shisa, a lion-dog yokai revered as a protector. But there was no protection here. His body was a canvas of misery. His right arm was twisted at a grotesque, impossible angle, and a vile, darkness seemed to writhe around it like a living, parasitic smoke, eating away at his vitality.
His beige fur was matted and dark with drying blood, and his magnificent red mane was caked with mud and gore. His little brown eyes, usually bright with fierce intelligence, were now glazed with pain, fighting a desperate battle to remain open.
He was shorter than a typical human man, but his compact form was built of corded muscle, now failing him.
"Followers of Izanami be damned..." he cursed through gritted sharp teeth, the words a wet rasp. He was trying to reach the town, to find help, to warn someone.
"I underestimated the... fuck," he grunted, the effort of speaking sending a fresh wave of fire through his chest. He collapsed against a tree, sucking in great, ragged gulps of air that did little to soothe the burning in his lungs. "I... need to... inform Lord Nurarihyon. Don't give up, Tosen. Not now. Never."
With a Herculean effort, he pushed himself away from the tree and took another step. Then another. Each one was a monumental task, requiring more willpower than the last, draining the dregs of his strength. The world began to swim at the edges of his vision, darkness creeping in.
"I see you... Shinigami..." he breathed out with his last vestige of consciousness, his eyes focusing on a tall, dark-haired figure with a yellow scarf that seemed to materialize from the shadows between the trees before him.
Then, everything went black.