The tavern was cloaked in shadows, the kind that made secrets linger in the air. Tenra sat across from Baraqiel, the two of them separated by little more than a battered wooden table—and years of unspoken regret.
Baraqiel looked every inch the stern patriarch: beard bristling, lips set in a line, eyes hard behind the mask of old-fashioned dignity. But Tenra knew better. Beneath all that, his future father-in-law was a world-class masochist. Life's little ironies, huh? Never judge a man by his scowl.
"Tenra Kamiyo." Baraqiel's voice cut through the haze, rough and direct. "Azazel's told me everything about you and Akeno. Thank you for taking care of her."
Tenra flashed a smile—casual, but with a deliberate emphasis on the words that followed. "No need to thank me, Father-in-law. Akeno is my wife. That's just what husbands do."
Baraqiel shook his head, almost weary. "Just call me Baraqiel. There's no need for titles between us."
Tenra raised an eyebrow. "What, you don't approve of me and Akeno?"
A shadow flickered across Baraqiel's face. "No, I know what you've done for her. I accept your relationship. It's just… I don't have the right. Not as her father."
So much for the classic "prove yourself to the old man" routine. One look at Baraqiel's guilt—etched deep, like scars that never healed—told Tenra he'd been worried about all the wrong things.
"That girl…" Baraqiel's voice dropped, heavy with regret. "She still resents me, doesn't she?"
Tenra didn't sugarcoat it. "Yeah. It's been years, but Akeno still hasn't let go."
"She rejects her heritage. Denies her own power. If she'd just used her lightning in that last match, she wouldn't have needed to risk everything like that."
Tenra nodded, sighing under his breath. Baraqiel's guilt thickened, almost tangible.
"I thought so. I failed Akeno—and her mother. She'll probably never forgive me."
Tenra leaned forward, voice low. "Honestly, what happened back then wasn't your fault, Baraqiel. The Himejima clan struck when you weren't there—"
Baraqiel cut him off with a wave of his hand. "Don't. You don't have to comfort me. You know it as well as I do—a man who can't protect his wife and daughter, whose fault is that if not his own?"
Tenra rubbed his nose, searching for words that wouldn't sound empty.
He got it. Failure like that sticks. But blaming Baraqiel never felt right. Comforting him felt just as wrong. The silence between them grew thick, awkward.
"Tell me about Akeno," Baraqiel said at last, as if surfacing from deep water. "From your side."
"You probably know most of it already, right?"
"I know the basics. But you're the one she trusts. I want to hear it from you."
Tenra hesitated, then nodded. The guy was a mess, sure, but his love for Akeno was real. So Tenra told him—about childhood meetings and painful separations, about the way fate kept throwing them together, and how they'd found each other again. He skipped the details that were better left private.
As Tenra spoke, Baraqiel's face shifted: tense, anxious, sometimes a fleeting smile. Tenra found himself feeling sorry for the man. Loving your daughter and still losing her—what could be worse?
"Do you want to see Akeno?" Tenra asked, once the story ended. "I can set it up."
Longing flashed in Baraqiel's eyes, but he shook his head. "No. Meeting now would only upset her."
Tenra saw through it. Baraqiel was just as afraid as Akeno—maybe more.
"Then what about after we go back to the human world?" Tenra pressed. "I don't want her stuck in the past forever."
This time, Baraqiel hesitated, then nodded. "Tenra Kamiyo," he said, standing with a gravity that felt like a plea. "I'm trusting you with Akeno. Take care of her."
"I will," Tenra promised. No hesitation.
Baraqiel held his gaze a moment longer, then turned and left with nothing more than a nod.
Watching him go, Tenra felt a pang of sorrow. A man who loved his family but couldn't protect them. Hated by his daughter, haunted by guilt. Some wounds never heal.
They'd been back in the Underworld for more than a month now. Summer vacation was nearly over. Originally, everyone planned to return to the human world after Rias and Sona's match, but Tenra got scheduled for a Rating Game before the break ended. So he and the girls stayed on at the Gremory estate, waiting for the match to wrap up before heading home.
His opponent: the so-called genius heir of House Stolas, one of the Seventy-Two Pillars. The Stolas family ranked even higher than Phoenix. On the day of the match, the arena overflowed with Underworld nobles and high society, eager for a show.
They didn't get much of one.
"Damn it! Beaten by a bunch of servants!"
Bloodied and sprawled on the ground, the Stolas heir's face contorted with shame and rage. He'd swaggered in, promising to put the Phoenix half-blood in his place. Instead, he and his entire peerage got wiped out before they even saw Tenra's face.
Taken down by a group of women. By mere servants.
"Lord Stolas, better luck next time." Yubelluna looked down at him, voice polite, smile anything but.
She flicked her wand, unleashing a blast of magic that finished the job.
The explosion echoed; the boy's scream was lost in the chaos. Then Grayfia's voice rang out, calm and final:
"The winner of this match—Tenra Kamiyo!"
Total annihilation. Outside the barrier, the crowd erupted in cheers. In the strategy room, Tenra stretched, bored. He hadn't even needed to step in.
What a letdown.
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