"Hey Billy, how was your day?"
An old man in his late forties stood behind the counter, wiping grease from his hands with a stained kitchen towel. He was bald except for a gray fringe around his ears, with kind eyes that crinkled when he smiled. The small restaurant smelled like fried food and soy sauce—warm, familiar.
"Nothing special, Old Ken," Billy replied. "I want ten ramens. The usual, please."
*And some cheeseburgers,* Eva added in his head.
"And a cheeseburger, Old Ken."
*Ten cheeseburgers,* Eva shot back.
*It's like you're the one eating them.*
*I helped you with the assignment.*
Billy sighed internally. *Fine.*
"And ten cheeseburgers," he added.
Old Ken raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. The old man had been running this place for twenty years and had learned not to question his customers' orders. "Coming right up. Give me fifteen minutes."
Billy sat at one of the worn booths and waited, staring at nothing in particular. The TV mounted in the corner played the evening news—something about the downtown demon attack, casualties still being counted, Hunter Organization making statements.
Billy tuned it out.
Fifteen minutes later, Old Ken returned with two plastic bags. One filled with instant ramen packages, the other heavy with wrapped cheeseburgers. "Here you go, kid. That'll be 4,200 yen."
Billy paid and left.
The walk back to his apartment building was short. Up the elevator to the fourth floor. Apartment 4C. The key stuck in the lock like always.
Inside, Billy went straight to the kitchenette. Stocked the ramen and most of the cheeseburgers in the fridge. Kept two cups of ramen and two cheeseburgers out for dinner.
Not a healthy meal, but Billy didn't particularly care about nutrition.
He filled a pot with water, set it to boil, and collapsed on the couch.
*So what do you want to watch?* Eva asked.
*I don't know. Maybe I'd watch porn if you weren't in my head seeing the exact same things I see.*
*Shut up. Just put on my anime. I haven't watched the second season since then.*
*Which one?*
*The one I told you to download. With the demon slayers.*
*Oh. That one.* Billy grabbed the remote and navigated to the downloaded episodes. *Fine.*
The water boiled. Billy made both cups of ramen, unwrapped both cheeseburgers, and brought everything back to the couch. He ate mechanically while the anime played, barely tasting the food, barely watching the screen.
Eva provided commentary in his head about the episodes. Billy made occasional sounds of acknowledgment.
Halfway through the third episode, Billy's stomach was uncomfortably full. He set down the half-eaten cheeseburger and unfinished ramen on the coffee table.
*Are you going to finish that?* Eva asked.
*No.*
*You wasted food.*
*I'll eat it tomorrow.*
*That's what you always say.*
Billy didn't respond. His eyes were already closing. The couch was comfortable. The anime kept playing. Eva's voice became background noise.
He fell asleep without meaning to.
---
The TV woke Billy early in the morning. It had been on all night—some infomercial now playing at low volume. On the coffee table sat the congealed remains of his dinner: ramen with a film of grease on top, the cheeseburger with one bite taken out of it.
Billy checked his phone. 06:25. Five minutes before his alarm would start ringing.
He stood, stretched, walked to the bathroom. Splashed cold water on his face. Stared at his reflection—brown eyes, nothing special, seventeen years old.
Back in the kitchenette, he poured cereal into a bowl. Added milk. Turned on the morning news while he ate.
It wasn't that Billy enjoyed watching the news. Nobody his age did. But he wanted to see updates about the Viper case. And according to the news, there were still no leads on who started the fire that killed Marcus Castellano and his family.
The report called it "suspicious circumstances." Bodies of Castellano's security team had been found outside the mansion, shot or beaten to death before the fire started. Police suspected a rival gang hit.
Billy had dealt with those bodyguards quietly, efficiently, before ever entering the house. No witnesses. No survivors.
The news moved on to the downtown demon attack. Estimated fifty civilians dead. Hundreds injured. The Túnel-class demon had been neutralized by Hunter teams, though the report mentioned "unconfirmed assistance from an unknown individual with significant combat abilities."
Billy kept eating his cereal.
He finished, rinsed the bowl, and went to get dressed. School uniform—white shirt untucked, blazer unbuttoned, tie loose. His backpack held actually completed homework this time, courtesy of spending Sunday evening working instead of just eating ramen.
*I forgot to tell you this, Billy,* Eva said as he was locking his apartment door. *If you ever encounter a demon again, don't go into the transformation.*
Billy paused. *Why?*
*I can't tell you the answer right now. Just use your other skills—your speed, strength, chains, hellfire. Only go into the transformation if your life depends on it.*
*That's not much of an explanation.*
*I know. But trust me—there's a good reason.*
Billy considered this as he walked to the elevator. If Eva was telling him not to transform, there had to be something important behind it. She wouldn't restrict him without cause.
*Okay,* he agreed. *I trust you.*
*Thank you.*
If anyone Billy trusted on Earth, it was Eva. His mom. If she said she'd explain eventually, then she would. And if she said the transformation was dangerous to use, then it probably was.
---
The bus ride was the same as always. Billy sat in the back, watching the city pass by the window.
Morning traffic. People in suits heading to work. A woman with a stroller. A man walking three dogs. Construction workers already at a site, the sound of jackhammers starting up.
Normal city life continuing like fifty civilians hadn't died downtown yesterday.
Billy arrived at Westfield High at 07:24. Six minutes early. He went to his locker, grabbed his books, and headed to first period.
History with Mr. Kavendish. Billy sat in the back corner, opened his notebook, wrote the date, then stared out the window.
A bird landed on the sill—a crow, black feathers glossy in the morning light. It turned its head, looking at Billy with one bright eye. Intelligent. Assessing.
They stared at each other for a long moment.
Then the crow cawed once and flew away, wings beating against the gray sky.
The bell rang. Students packed up. Billy moved to second period.
Chemistry with Mrs. Patterson.
The lesson was about chemical bonds—covalent, ionic, all of it blurring together. Billy took notes that were mostly doodles. Mrs. Patterson lectured, wrote formulas on the board, asked questions Billy didn't answer.
The period ended. Students began filing out.
"Billy," Mrs. Patterson called. "Could you stay for a moment?"
Billy stopped. Waited by his desk while the other students left. When the room was empty, Mrs. Patterson walked over, heels clicking on the tile floor.
She perched on the edge of the desk next to his, crossing her legs. Professional but somehow not.
"Yes, Mrs. Patterson? Is something wrong?"
"No, there isn't." She smiled. "I just wanted to remind you that exams are around the corner." She pulled out a folder from her desk, flipped through Billy's recent grades. "Your marks for the last three exams have been an F, then a D, and a C being the highest grade you've ever achieved in my class."
Billy said nothing.
"Maybe my struggling student needs some motivation," Mrs. Patterson continued. She leaned forward slightly, and Billy's eyes dropped involuntarily to where her white blouse strained against her chest. Her breasts were large—pressed together by the shirt's buttons, the fabric pulling tight.
She noticed where he was looking. Her smile widened slightly.
"If you get a B or higher on the next exam," she said, reaching up to adjust her collar and somehow making her breasts even more prominent, "I'll give you a reward."
*Dammit. She's stunning,* Billy thought.
Mrs. Patterson squeezed her breasts together one last time, adjusting her shirt. "Don't disappoint me, Billy."
"I won't, ma'am."
She smiled and walked back to her desk, hips swaying. "Good. Now go to lunch. And study."
Billy left the classroom quickly.
*Don't even think about it,* Eva warned.
*Think about what?*
*Using the influence skill on her, so she could give you good grades*
*I wasn't—*
*Yes, you were. The answer is no.*
*But what if I just—*
*No.*
Billy sighed and headed toward the cafeteria.
_____