High School DxD: Fox of Ill Omen

Yuuto

I tried to planned on training until I went to see Buchou. 

After leaving Yuki’s room, I went back to the section of the estate grounds Azazel-sensei had set aside for my work.

I drew a practice blade, set my stance, breathed once, and stepped through the first movement of a form I had repeated so many times by now that my body ought to have performed it without thought.

Instead, my sword bit through empty air at the wrong angle.

I stopped.

The mistake was small enough that most people wouldn’t have noticed. 

To me, it felt glaring.

I let the tip of the practice sword lower and exhaled slowly.

A small garden spread out around the training field in neat lines of trimmed hedges, pale stone paths, and beds of summer flowers that shouldn’t have looked as vivid as they did under the Underworld’s purple sky.

Beyond them, the Gremory residence rose with its usual noble dignity, old walls and elegant buildings.

Servants moved in the distance.

Somewhere farther off, I could hear the muffled crack of magic from where someone else must be training.

Everything looked calm.

My chest didn’t feel calm at all.

I could still see Yuk-san’s face.

She had looked ashamed, frightened, and resigned to the idea that she was the only person to blame.

She hadn’t even thought to blame Buchou.

It was like an instinct for her to accept blame onto herself and want to seek forgiveness.

My grip tightened around the sword hilt.

When Asia-san had softly asked what had happened between her and Buchou, Yuki-san had looked as though someone had pressed a blade straight through her ribs.

And still, even then, even after days of isolating herself to force a dangerous new power into shape, even after frightening Asia-san by mistake, she had only lowered her eyes and taken the fault onto herself.

I made Buchou uncomfortable.

She had said it so simply.

Not bitter or resentful.

Just pained and convinced of her own fault.

She had tried to apologize but Buchou had been avoiding her.

Asia-san had offered to speak to Buchou, and Yuki-san had turned it down immediately, as though the thought of troubling her any further was worse than the pain she was already trying to hide.

She had wanted to protect Buchou from being troubled by us while looking like she had been barely holding herself together.

I closed my eyes for a moment.

That was what had settled this for me.

If it had only been awkwardness, only some private misunderstanding between the two of them, I would have let it rest.

They were both entitled to private feelings, to embarrassment, and to their own space.

But Yuki-san wasn’t merely embarrassed.

She was hurting.

And Buchou had been letting it happen.

She may be struggling with whatever happened as well, but she was supposed to be better than that.

She was our master and our [King].

That didn’t mean she wasn’t allowed to be upset or hurt, but she couldn’t leave Yuki-san in a place where she was only going to spiral with guilt.

If she hadn’t had her training to throw herself into, I think that she would’ve been in a much worse place mentally by now. 

Buchou had not been herself since that night after the outdoor bath.

I had noticed it before anyone said anything aloud.

I had known her too long not to see it.

She gave orders.

She spoke about training, about the Rating Game, about schedules and strategy.

She did everything she should have been doing.

But something in her had pulled back.

Whenever Yuki-san was near, there was the slightest tightening in her shoulders.

Whenever Yuki-san’s name came up unexpectedly, there was half a second where her expression shifted too quickly for anyone not looking closely to catch it.

And Yuki-san, for all her efforts to make herself smaller, was still hurting as she gave Rias-Buchou the space she thought she needed.

I opened my eyes and looked down at the sword in my hand.

I walked back to the rack of training swords I had taken it from and put it back in its place.

Originally I had planned to finish my training early and then find Buchou, but I had changed my mind. 

Training could wait.

This could not.

By the time I went looking for Buchou, the day had begun to lean toward evening.

The light in the Underworld was always different from the human world’s.

Even when the sky brightened or dimmed, it never quite became morning or dusk in the same familiar way.

Still, there were hours when the atmosphere softened, when the purple glow above seemed less oppressive and the shadows across the estate lengthened into something idyllic.

When I found her she was on a balcony along the western wing of the residence.

It overlooked one of the lower gardens and, beyond that, a broad stretch of estate grounds broken by white paths and decorative trees.

A breeze moved the curtains at the tall open doorway behind her.

A small table held a few stacks of papers.

There were empty tea cups and plates of mostly eaten snacks set on the table as well.

She had one hand resting lightly on the stone railing and the other folded at her waist.

From a distance, she looked composed and untouchablely beautiful.

Up close, I saw the signs immediately.

She was too still and looked more tired than she should be from her training.

When she heard my footsteps and turned, her smile came just a little too quickly.

“Yuuto,” she said. “Are you done for the day already?”

“For now.” I stepped out onto the balcony and let the door ease shut behind me. “Do you have a moment, Buchou?”

Something flickered in her eyes.

It was small, and if I hadn’t come here specifically prepared to look for it, I might have missed it.

“Of course, Mother just left after she reviewed my studying of some more famous Rating Games,” she said, gesturing to the papers and tea cups on the table. “Is something wrong with your training?”

“No.”

That made the pause between us deeper.

Buchou’s fingers shifted once on the railing. “Then what is it?”

I didn’t circle it. There wasn’t much point.

“I wanted to talk to you about Yuki-san.”

The change was tiny, but unmistakable.

Her shoulders stiffened for a fraction of a second.

The curve of her smile faded.

It was enough to know that she knew exactly what I was referring to.

“Yuki?” she repeated. “What about her?”

“She’s been shutting herself away more than usual,” I said, frowning. “And today confirmed for me that this isn’t only because of training.”

Buchou’s expression smoothed further, which in her case meant she was guarding herself more closely, not less.

“She’s training under Lady Mireia,” she said. “I was told it would be demanding. That isn’t surprising.”

“No,” I agreed. “It isn’t.”

The breeze moved a strand of her crimson hair across her shoulder.

She didn’t lift a hand to fix it.

“Then?”

I met her eyes. “Asia-san, Xenovia-san, and I went to see her earlier.”

For a heartbeat, she said nothing.

Then, lightly, “I see. Was there some kind of problem?”

“Yes.”

I had said it harsher than I’d intended, but I didn’t take it back.

Buchou’s gaze sharpened.

I went on before she could redirect us. “Not with training itself. At least, not only with training. Yuki-san is pushing herself too hard, and something happened earlier because of that. We spoke afterward.”

I could have told her more.

About Malediction’s Embrace, the state Yuki-san had built.

About how dangerous it could be.

How Xenovia-san and I rushed into the room to find Asia-san pinned beneath her, wide-eyed, blushing and shaken, while Yuki-san, in a form that didn’t quite feel like herself, looked like she was getting ready to attack us.

But that wasn’t why I had come.

And if I said too much too soon, Buchou would latch onto the wrong part of the conversation.

She would worry about Yuki-san’s new power and the risk associated with it.

This conversation wasn’t about those kinds of practical things.

Buchou looked at me carefully. “And?”

“And when we asked what was wrong between the two of you,” I said, “she said she had done something to make you uncomfortable.”

Her fingers went still on the stone.

The silence that followed was tense.

After some time she said, too evenly, “Yuuto.”

“Yes, Buchou?”

She looked away toward the gardens. “That is a private matter.”

I had expected that.

“I understand that,” I said. “Ordinarily, I would leave it alone.”

“Then leave it alone.”

There was no heat in her words.

Only a warning.

I didn’t let it go.

“I would,” I repeated, “if Yuki-san did not look as though she was tearing herself apart over it.”

That made Buchou’s jaw tighten.

“Yuuto.” This time, my name carried more of an edge. “I appreciate your concern, but whatever this is, it isn’t something you need to involve yourself in.”

I let a breath out slowly through my nose.

Normally, I would obey when Buchou drew a line.

She was my [King], but more than that, she was Buchou.

My trust in her wasn’t only loyalty, it was personal.

But loyalty was not the same thing as pretending not to see when someone was being hurt.

“With respect, Buchou,” I said, more coldly, “with how you’ve handled it, I think I do.”

Her eyes came back to mine at once.

The breeze that had felt soft a moment ago seemed colder on the skin.

“Yuki-san isn’t merely embarrassed,” I said. “And neither are you.”

Color rose very faintly in her cheeks. 

I could see her anger beginning to build as she narrowed her eyes at me.

“You are overstepping.”

“I know.”

“Then stop.”

I held her gaze.

“No.”

That startled her more than if I had raised my voice.

For a second, Buchou just stared at me.

Maybe it was because I almost never answered her that way.

Or maybe it was because she didn’t know what to say if I pressed her for an answer.  

Her brows drew together. “Yuuto.”

“Buchou, I know that it has something to do with what happened in the bath the day before training. You were acting off the next day and Yuki-san seemed unusually worried about it.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” She immediately replied.

I waited a second before continuing.

“You’re right I don’t. So tell me.”

She drew herself up a little straighter, more from reflex than confidence. “I don’t have to explain every private embarrassment to the whole peerage.”

“I don’t want every detail and this has become more than a private matter, Buchou.”

“Then what do you want from me, Yuuto?”

I kept my voice steady, despite the frustration that was building. “I want you to not keep letting Yuki-san think this is entirely her fault. I want you to talk to her.”

She looked like she wanted to reply with something sharp, but stopped herself.

So I continued.

“When Asia-san asked what had happened between you, but Yuki-san wouldn’t tell us.She wouldn’t place any fault on you at all. She only said she had done something to make you uncomfortable, that she had tried to apologize, and that she didn’t want us bothering you over it.”

That finally seemed to get through to her..

Her lips parted slightly.

The defensive tension in her shoulders changed shape, no longer drawing up to shield her, but sinking under weight.

She looked conflicted when she spoke.

“That’s…”

She didn’t finish it.

I took a step closer, to stand at the railing with her.

“She asked us not to trouble you,” I said more harshly. “Even while she looked as though speaking about it hurt her.”

Buchou’s hand tightened on the stone so hard her knuckles whitened.

I had rarely seen her look truly at a loss for words.

It has happened when she was truely angry, or extremely shocked, but this was different.

“Yuuto,” she said at last, and now my name sounded tired rather than sharp. “I…”

Again she stopped.

I waited.

After a few seconds, she turned away from me entirely and looked out over the gardens.

The red light of the evening sun caught in her hair.

Below us a servant walked through the garden carrying tools.

Her voice, when it came, was quieter. “I never wanted her to think that.”

“I know,” I said.

She let out a bitter little laugh at that.

“Do you?” She asked, still looking down past the railing.

“Yes.”

That made her glance sideways at me.

I kept my tone calm. “You’re not the type to punish us in such a roundabout way. And I don’t think that Yuki has done anything worth punishing for. So I think that there is something that you're afraid to face. But I expected better of you, Buchou. You’re letting her suffer instead of facing whatever issue you two have.”

She flinched at my words, and her expression dropped the defensive anger it had held and only showed tiredness and frustration.

“Then what do you want from me?” she asked.

“The truth.”

She looked down at her hand on the stone rail, as though only now realizing how tightly she was gripping it.

Slowly, she loosened her fingers.

Buchou was hurting too.

That had been obvious from the start, despite my frustration with her.

Pressing her was unpleasant precisely because I wasn’t doing it to someone cold or uncaring.

I was doing it to someone who was obviously struggling with something and didn’t know how to reach out to the other person.

But Yuki-san didn’t know that, all she could see was distance and blame herself for it, so I had to do it. 

Buchou closed her eyes for a moment.

When she opened them again, she looked exhausted.

“What exactly did she say?” she asked quietly.

I answered without holding back.

“Yuki-san has been throwing herself into her training to a point where I was concerned and went to check on her. When Asia-san asked about the two of you, Yuki-san looked defeated and said she had done something to make you uncomfortable,” I repeated. “She said she tried to apologize over and over, but you kept avoiding her. Asia-san offered to speak to you, and Yuki-san refused immediately. She said you might just need time and space.”

Buchou’s lips pressed together.

I continued, because holding back now would only drag things out. “When Xenovia-san asked what had happened, Yuki-san wouldn’t explain. She only said it was her fault. Every time she asked she kept repeating that it was her fault.”

Her breath caught.

“She said that?” Buchou asked.

“Yes.”

For a long moment, she didn’t say anything at all.

Then, almost under her breath, “Idiot.”

She smiled weakly as she said it, but her voice sounded heavy with guilt.

“She really thinks that,” I said. “She has been for days. She said that she would give you space until you were ready for her to apologize.”

Buchou lowered her head.

The crimson hair that slipped over her shoulder hid part of her face, but not enough.

I saw the twist of her mouth and the beginning of tears in her eyes.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” she whispered. “It was supposed to be simple, and now…”

I stood in silence for a moment as I waited for her to continue.

At last, Buchou straightened a little.

“Yuuto,” she said, still not looking at me, “there are things I can’t just explain properly.”

“I thought that might be the case.”

“It isn’t simple.”

“I assumed as much.” I said. “But I know this much: whatever happened, Yuki-san believes she crossed a line with you. She believes your distance means she hurt you in some way, and she is blaming herself without considering that you may carry some of that blame. I’m worried about her and I don’t know what state she would have been in if she didn’t have her training to throw herself into to distract herself.”

Rias-Buchou shut her eyes once more.

When she opened them she had to force herself not to let any tears form.

That was soothed some of the anger I had felt at her.

“She always does that,” Buchou murmured.

“Yes.”

“She always…” Her fingers flexed at her side, helplessly. “She takes everything onto herself. Even when she shouldn’t.”

“Yes.”

That time my agreement came more softly.

Buchou let out a slow breath that trembled at the very end.

“I didn’t think—”

She stopped.

I didn’t fill the gap for her.

There were many ways that sentence could have ended.

At last she turned fully to face me.

Her expression was composed again, but it was more tired and sad than before.

“I never meant to leave things this way,” she said. “I just needed—”

“Time?”

The corners of her mouth tightened. “Yes.”

“And did taking that time help?” I asked, my voice going a bit too cold.

Her silence was an answer in itself.

I didn’t press the point.

There was no need.

She already knew what she had done was cruel to Yuki-san.

And now she knew that I was upset with how she had handled things.

“She asked us not to bother you,” I said. “Even after everything else today.”

Buchou’s gaze sharpened faintly. “Everything else?”

Ah.

I shouldn't have let that slip.

I weighed the choice for only a moment.

“Her teacher, Lady Mireia, training has worked well for Yuki-san,” I said. “But it isn’t entirely stable yet.”

Concern flared across her face at once.

“She was hurt?” Buchou asked quickly.

“No.” I shook my head. “Not physically at least. And Asia-san is fine as well.”

That got her attention even more.

I had not meant to reveal that much, but perhaps it was unavoidable.

“Asia?” she repeated.

“Yuki-san frightened her by mistake.” I kept my tone measured. “Nothing worse than that. They spoke it through afterward and Yuki-san was more upset by it than Asia was. It was part of the same conversation.”

She looked at me with her brow drawn together.

“She frightened Asia,” Buchou repeated.

“Yes.”

“How?”

“That isn’t the point.”

Her eyes flashed. “It matters to me.”

“It should have mattered before I came to speak to you, but you wouldn’t have known about it since you’ve been avoiding Yuki-san since her training has started.” I said with narrowed eyes. 

For a moment I thought she might actually snap at me.

Instead, she stared at me for a moment longer, before looking away.

Because she knew I was right.

Her looking away did not make me happier.

“Yuuto,” she said.

“Yes, Buchou?”

“You are being very bold today.”

“I don’t think either of us is enjoying it.”

To my surprise, a faint, humorless huff escaped her.

It made a small smile form on my face.

Then I let it drop.

I spoke more calmly. “If you want to ask Yuki-san about her training, you should. You could be asking her instead of me.”

Buchou looked down towards the garden again..

“I’m not asking you to sort out every feeling you have this instant,” I said. “I’m not even asking you to fix everything between you two. I’m asking you not to let Yuki-san continue believing she alone is to blame for whatever happened.”

There was a long pause between us.

“I thought if I gave it a little time,” she said at last, “then I would know how to talk to her.”

“And now?”

Her laugh this time was definitely bitter. “Now apparently she thinks I can barely stand to look at her. While I’ve been thinking myself in circles instead of facing my problems.

I said nothing.

That was almost certainly what Yuki-san thought.

Buchou seemed to understand my silence.

She pressed a hand over her eyes, then exhaled sharply.

“Damn it.”

Her voice sounded close to tears.

I looked out over the railing as I let her compose herself.

Below us, one of the estate lamps flared softly to life as evening deepened.

Buchou folded her arms around herself, to ward off the cold of the evening breeze.

It seemed like I had convinced her to at least talk to Yuki-san.

They would be able to work things out between them.

That meant I could ask.

I took one slow step closer.

“Buchou.”

She looked at me.

There was fatigue in her eyes now, and confusion, and something that might have become embarrassment if guilt weren’t sitting on top of it too heavily.

I kept my voice even.

“Would I be able to help you with whatever happened between you and Yuki-san?”

Her breath caught.

Her mouth parted slightly, then closed again.

The wind moved around us, through the balcony, across the estate grounds below.

Buchou stared at me and I could see her thinking very quickly whether or not she should accept my offer.

If I could help Buchou talk to Yuki-san, then she would be able to relax and fully work on her training, rather than having her worry about Buchou loom over her.

And Buchou would be able to apologize to her for how she handled things.

Then she would be able to focus on preparing for our Rating Game as our [King].

So, I held her gaze and waited.

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