“With just one punch, Team Gremory’s White Cat clea-hey, quit it!” Nanael’s announcement of victory is interrupted by some sort of drama in the nurse’s office.
I trade looks with Saeko, only imagining how Kaori must be reacting over there.
“What?
You can resurrect yourself?” We can only hear one side of the conversation but Nanael is helpfully providing context.
“Okay well that’s nice but it still counts as fatal damage if you have to do that, don’t blame us if you never paid attention to the rules.” There’s another pause as we can only imagine Kaori’s response to that.
“Oh!
How rude!
You’re lucky you got knocked out now, if we were meeting in the tournament I’d…” Nanael’s voice grows more threatening in the face of whatever provocation Kaori is giving her.
“Well that’s just petty!” The broadcasting angel clears her throat, “Despite objections, that was a decisive win for Koneko Toujou, anyone could tell by looking.
If anyone is worried about the Demonfey Temptress, don’t be.
She’s just fine.
Maybe she could have done with a few more punches if you ask me.” The crystal ball falls silent and I wince.
“So, uh.
Lets be very kind and supportive when she gets back?” I suggest to Saeko, who nods readily in agreement.
I wonder if her and Kaori made a similar decision after seeing the end of my fight?
The fact is their reaction really did cheer me up when I was feeling low, so I owe it to Kaori to show her my full support in return.
It’s a couple minutes later when a familiar fairy comes flying through the left ajar door to the storage shed, her fists balled up and her face in an open scowl.
“Hey, that was bad luck, you got screwed by the format!” I say straight away.
Yeah, it was just bad rules dicking our poor girl over, nothing at all to do with the fact she got her shit rocked by a single punch without doing anything at all.
“The tournament rules do bar some people from being able to show their full ability, you just fell on the bad side of it this time, it’s a shame,” Saeko agrees readily, the two of us sticking to our script.
Thankfully it seems to work, Kaori freezing in place a moment, before her fists unclench and she smooths her face into a smile.
“I know, right?
I could have bounced back from that easily, there wasn’t anything she could actually do to me.
Honestly, what a stupid set of rules for a tournament!” with a playful if slightly forced sounding giggle, she flies over to land on the gym mats next to me.
“Yeah, in a real fight it’d be completely different, don’t even worry about it,” I reassure, reaching down and patting my forefinger atop her head in what I hope is a comforting gesture.
She doesn’t knock it away at least.
“Still, it did highlight some areas for potential growth,” Saeko says, verging onto criticism now that the immediate blowout has been defused.
I do feel Kaori stiffen under my finger, which suggests this needs a soft touch.
“Jiro-kun and I were remiss in not including you more in our training this past week.” While Saeko and I did a decent amount of sparring between individual practice of special moves and stuff, Kaori was basically left on her own to play around with her magic.
I don’t think she’s been doing any gravity training herself, unless you count using the gravity magic itself on others.
But none of the ‘operate under higher gravity to build strength’ stuff we’ve been doing.
“Yeah, if we’d tried actually sparring with you it might’ve gotten you more used to… dodging,” I back Saeko up, wincing a bit at my rather lame conclusion there.
“I suppose,” she says grudgingly.
“I didn’t expect her to actually be so fast.” Sighing she scoots forward a bit and I pull my hand away from her before she looks up at me, “By the way, the healer girl said to remind you to see her before your next fight.” Oh yeah.
I mean, Kusaka didn’t really hurt me at all, the few kicks and punches she’d landed hadn’t left a mark, but I’m not gonna turn down magical healing.
Who knows what kind of underlying conditions it might fix for me?
Could it fix my eyesight?
Using a little ero-battery power’s fine, and that’s what I’ve been doing today so my glasses wouldn’t get damaged in any fighting, but it’s still effort and a resource.
“I’ll go after the next match,” I nod, smiling and turning my attention to the crystal ball.
If Mittelt loses I’ll make fun of her, and honestly I can’t see her doing better than the last fallen angel did since this match will probably follow the same script as the first one.
Speaking of, we can see Kiba’s already there, wearing his school uniform without the blazer and carrying a weapon.
Unlike the pretty typical melee weapons used by Meguri and Tsubaki, or indeed Saeko, the one he’s got plainly looks magical.
It’s a long and straight European style sword, except the blade is a pure jet black, with a golden hilt.
Yeah Mittelt’s screwed.
“I don’t think Mittelt’s gonna win this one.” “We don’t know, some fallen angels might be stronger than others,” Kaori says, but it sounds like she’s just saying that to leave an opening in case we’re surprised.
Speaking of, Mittelt arrives at the other end of the gym, and… she’s still wearing the wedding dress.
It feels extremely embarrassing, everyone looking knows that I put that on her, but also there’s no denying it looks really cute.
“Ugh, just my luck to get matched up with a pretty-boy,” Mittelt grouses as she walks across the gym, her black feathered wings a stark contrast to the ivory white of her wedding dress.
Interestingly unlike the golden spear Kalawarner used, the one Mittelt summons is pink.
That probably means it’s less powerful, right?
Oh she is so screwed.
“I’m sorry if my face offends you, Mittelt-san.
I promise you won’t have to look at it for long,” Kiba responds to her with a gentle smile and some incredibly polite yet threatening trash talk.
He’s pretty good at this, that one was subtle but pointed!
Mittelt grips her spear tighter and lets out one of her annoying giggles, “Kyuhuhu!
That’s right, I won’t have to see it when it’s all covered in blood.
Lets see what your insides look like, devil!” “Wow, both combatants are fired up for this one!
Yuuto Kiba looking cool and collected, as expected for the boy they call The Prince, but he’s up against a brand new fallen angel.
Mittelt’s had her wicked heart stolen by a bandit, and this Blushing Bride won’t let herself be swayed by looks alone!” I hang my head in despair at Nanael’s commentary, but not before seeing Mittelt’s indignant expression, mouth agape and fangs showing.
“He is handsome, but you’re kind of cute in your own way Jiro-kun, don’t feel too bad,” Kaori tries to offer some support, but fuck the way she says it.
‘In your own way’?
What the fuck does that mean?
“I don’t need your pity,” I say, failing at keeping the sullenness out of my voice.
The tiny fairy just lets out a huffy grumble in response, while Saeko shifts on my other side.
“A man shouldn’t be so self-pitying either,” she says sternly, the look I’m receiving making my balls feel like they’re shrivelling up.
“Take pride in your own accomplishments and don’t get hung up on comparisons.
There’s nothing less attractive to a woman than insecurity.” Oh fuck now I feel way worse.
That’s like a critical hit to the heart!
“Okay, okay,” I feel pathetic like I’m blowing off well-meaning comfort and well-founded criticism, but I’m not trying to diminish what they’re telling me it’s just hard to take in right now.
I try to explain it to them, “It’s not about him anyway, I don’t care what he looks like, it’s just the bride stuff with Mittelt and the half-orc bandit stuff I’m getting,” and the words, “Senpai I hate you!” flash through my mind, coming from a crying girl no less.
“It’s just rough, I’m not used to this kind attention.” Vague and generalised disdain fine, that’s my day to day.
But it’s harder when it’s more pointed and accusatory, and comes with a confusing romantic subtext because I have no fucking idea what to feel about Mittelt even if everyone might think I’ve booked in a church date to tie the knot with her because of that stupid dress.
It’s my natural defence mechanism to close off, to bunker down and try to wait it out.
But I usually just do that by myself, it’s no surprise Kaori and Saeko don’t like it when I make it their problem as well.
“Well you just had a beautiful girl pay you a compliment.
Smile and give one back, show me your cool side instead of shutting me down,” Kaori says without any sympathy.
But she’s not wrong.
She had paid me a compliment, even if it could’ve done without caveats.
“Your body might be small, but you’ve got a big heart Kaori-chan,” I tell her rather than just shallowly pointing out the obvious that she’s hot.
She smiles wide enough that I can tell it’s helped smooth things over, but then Saeko directs our attention back to the crystal ball.
“It’s starting.” Sure enough, Nanael announces the match start, and this time both combatants charge each other in the middle, for once we’ve got a fight between two people where neither is about to shy away from a melee.
There’s a clash, the two fast-moving supernatural combatants exchanging sword and spear just once before their momentum carries them past each other.
It’s like a samurai clash in a movie, the two now facing in opposite directions and frozen in place.
Then Mittelt staggers, collapsing forward and vanishing in a sparkle of light before she even hits the ground, while Kiba straightens up and flourishes his sword before it vanishes as well and he smoothly walks out of the gym without a word.
“S-so fast!” Nanael’s belated commentary comes in.
“Team Gremory’s really come out swinging these last two fights, defeating their foes in a single hit each time!
The honeymoon is over for the Blushing Bride, and The Prince advances to the quarter finals!” “That means you won your bet as well, you’ve made it further than Mittelt-san,” Saeko notes.
“See?
Things are looking up Jiro-kun, you shouldn’t be so morose.” Uh, yeah.
What had she said earlier?
Sloppy girlfriend experience?
Doting baby-making sex?
“Ahaha, yeah, I guess?” I laugh nervously, standing up off the gym mats.
“Well hey, maybe I’ll swing by the nurse’s office, get all checked out by the sister?” — Gentle waves of green light bathed over Mittelt as she opened her eyes and felt her flesh being put back together.
In the Kuoh Academy nurse’s office, her body was laid out on the same bed that had previously hosted Kalawarner, Akeno Himejima, and Kaori Saeki.
It smelled of blood and burnt flesh and candied apples.
“You should be all better now, Mittelt-san!” the desperately eager to please voice of the heretic sacred gear wielder assured her, sounding more forlorn as she added, “I’m sorry about your dress though.” As if she cared about that!
With a huff she sat up and levered herself off the bed, her nice white pumps clicking against the floor while she ran a hand over her flank where that devil’s sword had cut her open.
Her flesh was knit back together and unmarred, but her dress showed the sign of the sword’s passage cutting through her abdomen… and out her back as well going by how the tear wrapped around the other side of her dress.
The sheets were all bloody, and red stains had seeped into the pristine white silk she was wearing, but she felt good as new.
Twilight Healing really was something else.
Not as if it was the first time she’d gotten to appreciate it thanks to Nanael’s rather harsh training.
Training that hadn’t done her any good when fighting the Gremory knight.
“He was a lot stronger than I expected,” she admitted, turning to see Nanael and her fellow fallen angels looking back at her.
Kalawarner seemed most sympathetic, but Raynare and Dohnaseek still held onto the idea that they could’ve done better.
Just like Mittelt had felt after Kalawarner’s disgraceful loss.
With their use of holy light that was anathema to devils, most of the competition here should have been easy to sweep.
Sure there were humans, but unless they had impressive sacred gears they weren’t worth thinking about.
The Red Dragon Emperor they had on their team took forever to multiply his power enough for it to actually be worth something.
Then there was Jiro Onano, her big sensitive brute of a boy.
Willing to choke her and stick a gun in her mouth but still innocent enough to act ashamed of it.
Her favourite combination.
His fight with the Sitri bishop had been fun to watch as well.
Manhandling her around, pinning her down and making her cry.
Seeing those punches to the back of the devil’s head had her pressing her knees together while she watched, imagining him heaving all that weight down on her and filling her as her body received those blows.
Mittelt would’ve happily traded places with Reya Kusaka to experience some of that, especially seeing the way he’d looked so stricken afterwards.
That kind of sensitivity was the best; when someone knows what they’re doing is wrong, but they still get manipulated by pride or lust into doing it anyway.
There was nothing more thrilling than exploiting that kind of mental friction for her.
Of course since he had advanced to the quarter finals while she hadn’t… was she really going to have to pay out on that ridiculous offer she’d made?
It had been funny seeing him squirm at the possibilities she’d dangled, although the way he’d retaliated by putting her in a wedding dress… who did he think he was?!
Really now.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to act a little nicer for a bit though.
Just to play with his head, fill him with thoughts of what she was capable of before she found a fun way to subvert his expectations.
A little bit of kissing and soft play wouldn’t be so bad, she could pretend like she was only doing it because she was afraid of how much he could hurt her like he’d hurt that Sitri devil?
“Well, it’s not like I really expected much out of you all anyway,” Nanael’s unwelcome voice disrupted her musings and she wiped off the smile that had been forming in order to show an indignant glare.
“Think you can put on a better show at least, Spiked Shoulders?” “It would be my pleasure, Nanael-sama,” Raynare’s voice came out in a low tone, a heady mixture of violent promise and begrudging subservience.
Mittelt liked that too.
It was so much more interesting than Kalawarner’s broken down obedience towards Nanael and Dohnaseek’s effort to maintain a standoffish reserve in the face of her disruption to their lives and plans.
“Shouldn’t Raynare just forfeit immediately to let Nanael-sama advance quickly?” Kalawarner wondered after the two had walked out of the office together.
See, that was exactly what Mittelt was thinking about, and she threw a glare up at the taller Grigori.
“You don’t get it, do you?” she asked, her tone acidic.
“It’s about her pride as a warrior.
You two have shamed our organisation, it’ll be up to Raynare and I to make up for your failings.” Oh yes, that was Dohnaseek.
Backing her up with one side of his mouth and insulting her with the other.
It was the only part of him that was cute.
“I think, so long as they both have fun and do their best, it’ll all be okay!” their pet healer jumped into the discussion.
She was a disappointment.
A saint honoured by the church and then excommunicated, she’d expected more bitterness, she’d expected a toxic melange of devotion and betrayal.
Instead the girl was as resolute and pious as any nun Mittelt had ever met.
Having an actual angel in the form of Nanael reaffirm her faith and virtue had burned away whatever doubts she might have felt on her initial exile to Japan under the care of fallen angels, as she at least correctly intuited that an angel’s word was worth more than that of some corrupt cardinal.
Of course when talking corruption, Nanael was worse than most Grigori, no matter how pristine white her one and a half wings glowed.
But Asia had latched onto her like a lost duckling.
All three fallen angels gave the blonde human girl a look of disgusted condescension for her contribution, and she fretfully retreated back while tugging on her habit.
The opening of the door swung their attention in the other direction, and Freed swaggered in.
He was no fun either, just a bloodthirsty psycho, his personality swung in the other direction from Asia’s.
It was all so dreadfully one-note, there wasn’t an interesting fact about him.
“Where were you?” she asked accusingly, also belatedly noticing that the Hyoudou boy was absent too.
The lack of salivating and ogling should have clued her in.
“Out on patrol, you never know when someone might try something sneaky,” he answered, looking at her with an expression of wounded innocence.
“Unfortunately I saw one of our own up to no good.
Nanael’s pet human found a way to peek into the girls’ changing room.” “He does know they’re not actually changing in there, right?” Mittelt asked, confused as to what his motivation could be.
Issei wasn’t smart enough to actually be looking for a tactical advantage by listening in on their plans, was he?
“Well we all know he’s not exactly very bright,” Dohnaseek noted with a chuckle, synchronising with the direction of Mittelt’s own thoughts.
“The boy’s mind only goes in one direction,” Freed agreed with an overdone put-upon sigh.
“Of course only one person here has the tits to actually convince him away from there before he causes an incident with our hosts,” the albino exorcist grinned over at Kalawarner, his tongue lolling out of his mouth obscenely at his implication.
His unfortunately correct implication, though Mittelt huffed and crossed her arms over her own flat chest at having it pointed out like that.
Not as if she wanted the job of playing babysitter for the horny little twig, but being discounted from the running still stung at her pride.
“That boy!” Kalawarner threw up her hands in disgust.
“I don’t know what Nanael-sama sees in him.
Fine, I’ll go and retrieve him before anything happens.” With a huff, she stalked out of the room, passing by Freed who sauntered over to take a spot near the back where he could still watch the crystal ball that’d broadcast the fight.
In fact it was showing Nanael and Raynare now in the gym and facing each other, Nanael’s mouth moving as she started announcing.
Of course she wouldn’t let her own participation stop her from running her mouth, why would she?
“It’s what you’ve all been waiting for, the Angel of Light Nanael makes her tournament debut!” she announced, striking a cute pose and pointing towards the ‘camera’ while her floating sword swept through the air around her.
“Up against Raynare, the Failing Angel!
It’s light versus darkness, as classic a fight as you can expect!” Opposite her Raynare glared, clenching her fist around a crackling red spear of energy.
She’d definitely put more darkness energy into it, they all knew holy attacks would do nothing to Nanael.
The sound of the door opening drew her attention that way, expecting to see Kalawarner dragging a perverted teenage boy behind her.
Instead however it was a stranger, a handsome looking young man with dark green hair wearing a black uniform jacket, a furred green cloak over his shoulders.
His eyes were slitted almost entirely closed, and he looked over the fallen angels and exorcist in seeming dismissal before a smile grew on his face at the sight of Asia and he started to approach her.
She could smell a devil instantly.
“Kyuhuhu, mind your step, pretty-boy.
I don’t remember seeing you on the tournament roster,” she spoke up, summoning her spear and glaring at him.
Beside her Dohnaseek did the same, and she could hear the metallic rasp of Freed drawing his own sword behind them.
The devil looked at her and even through those mostly closed eyes it felt like he was seeing her as a bug, raising her hackles.
“I’m not interested in you or your silly tournament, I’ve only come to be reunited with my beloved,” he spoke in a soothing and gentle voice before refocusing on their healer, who only looked confused at the apparent confession.
“Uhm, I’m sorry but… have we met?” she asked, eyes wide and cheeks pink.
He sighed in seeming dismay and reached up to the collar of his jacket.
“Of course, I had to hide my face back then, but surely you remember this?” Opening up the front of his clothes showed he was bare-chested beneath, slim and hairless, but with a broad discolouration of scarred flesh across his breast.
“Oh!
That mark, does that mean-?” the nun gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth.
“Indeed,” he smiled at her recognition.
“Though you couldn’t remove the scar, you saved my life… and then were cast out by the church because of it.
My name is Diodora Astaroth, and I’ve been looking for you ever since.
My love, Asia, won’t you come with me away from here and be my bride?” he stretched out a hand towards her.
She knew the name.
Another brat devil like Gremory and Sitri.
Before today she would have said she’d send him crying home to mother with copious application of light spears.
But being humbled by Kiba had Mittelt re-evaluating her chances while Asia responded to this abrupt proposal.
“Um, that’s very, I mean, you’re very kind to offer, b-but I’m doing good work with Nanael-sama right now, and I don’t think my heart’s ready for this kind of thing, e-especially when it’s so sudden,” the innocent little girl responded bashfully, alternately looking down while kneading fingers into her robe and then up briefly before having to avert her gaze again.
She might have been averting her gaze, but Mittelt wasn’t.
She could see that ugly look on his face at being refused, however meekly.
Of course he was a devil, he didn’t take it gracefully.
“That false angel’s gotten you confused, Asia.
You’ll understand things better when I take you away from here,” he said still in that smooth and gentle voice, stepping towards her.
But no more.
Mittelt had her pride as a fallen angel, and besides there were three of them.
“Kyuhuhu, rejection stings doesn’t it young master?
Why don’t you run along home now before this gets ugly?” she taunted, stepping out to put herself in the way.
She wasn’t going to let some pretty-boy devil run off with their pet healer.
She was useful!
“Dregs of the Grigori,” his voice turned openly contemptuous as he looked down at her, the heels of her new white shoes not enough to overcome the difference in their height for all that he wasn’t particularly tall.
“You should have followed your simple brutish natures and none of this would’ve been necessary.
You only add to your foolishness by standing in my way now.” She had no idea what he was talking about.
“I don’t know what you planned for, but it’s three against one here so you should be more polite.” Shunk!
A wet meaty sound jerked her attention to the side where she saw Dohnaseek lifted up, a spike of red-drenched metal erupting from his chest.
He let out a rasping gurgle of surprise, gloved hand reaching up towards the blade in mute shock as behind him Freed wore an expression of rapturous ecstasy at having run through his supposed ally.
With a savage wrench he pulled on the sword, ripping it further through the fallen angel’s torso and opening him up.
Eyes wide, Mittelt started to move, to pull away from the traitor behind her, to deal with the threat presented by the devil in front of her.
She was too slow.
A concussive blast of force erupted from Astaroth’s open palm and detonated against her chest, slamming her back against a cabinet full of medicine.
Bottles of pills rained down, their contents completely useless to her as she landed in nerveless shock, Asia’s screams sounding increasingly muted as she watched Dohnaseek’s body slide limply off of Freed’s sword, the stray exorcist swaggering over towards her… no, towards Asia and the devil.
She tried to turn her head to look at them, seeing the discolouration in the air of a spatial warp forming, the devil generating a magic circle in her peripheral vision so he could abscond with his prize.
She couldn’t turn though, her muscles wouldn’t respond, her body felt cold and distant, like she was separated from it, separated from something vital and necessary.
Again the door slammed open, Mittelt’s position letting her see right past the crystal ball displaying an inconsequential battle as an overweight teenager in a green tracksuit burst into the room.
She wanted to laugh at how stupid he looked, all sweaty and breathing hard, that chubby-cheeked face of his radiating confusion, those beady dark eyes not having a clue what they were actually looking at.
She opened her mouth to say something crude to him.
Tell him he’s got a rival in the being cruel to girls competition today.
But no words came out.
No air travelled up her throat and her lips flapped uselessly, her lungs failing her and keeping her from bringing voice to any of the cutting barbs that came to mind.
It was getting dark, her sight fading at the edges, blocking out more and more as her vision dilated on the boy scrambling towards her, even his features growing harder and harder to make out, Mittelt’s reality fading towards nothingness.
Oh no.
Why?
Why was it that the last thing Mittelt ever got to see in the world… Was this fat ugly brute?