High School DxD: Fox of Ill Omen

Yuuto

I had learned, over the years, that the most dangerous rooms were rarely the loudest ones.

Shouting had shape. Open hostility had direction. A blade being drawn, an insult spoken too directly, magic gathering in the air—those things could be answered.

The worst rooms were the quiet ones.

The ones where rank, bloodline, and custom had already decided too much before anyone present was given permission to feel anything about it.

By the time Riser Phenex finished laying out the House of Gremory’s situation, the Occult Research Club no longer felt like our clubroom.

It felt like a negotiation chamber disguised as one.

Rias-Buchou remained standing.

If she had sat back down, it would have meant she was accepting the shape of the conversation. Standing kept the line drawn, however thinly. Her crimson hair spilled over her shoulders like a war banner dragged into a tea room by mistake. Her expression was composed, but only because Buchou’s pride was stronger than most people’s ability to keep from looking broken.

Riser sat opposite her as if the room had already rearranged itself around his future comfort.

That was infuriating.

I was not alone in thinking so.

Akeno-san’s smile had thinned into something less elegant and more dangerous than before. Koneko-chan sat still enough to seem detached if you did not know her. Asia-san looked as if she wanted simultaneously to comfort Buchou, calm Issei-san, and disappear from the room before making anything worse. Kusari-san stood near the edge of the formation, too quiet even for her, pale face unreadable in the way that meant she was paying extremely close attention.

And Issei-san…

Issei-san looked ready to explode.

Then Grayfia ended the rising tension as if it never existed.

“Ojou-sama, Riser-sama, please calm down. If both of you were to continue, then I will make you step back. For Sirzechs-sama’s honour, I won’t hold back.”

Riser sat again, crossed one leg over the other. “To be told that by the “Strongest Queen”, even I would be scared. I definitely wouldn’t want to fight the people from Sirzech-sama’s group, they're all monsters.”

As Buchou also stood down the room was able to breathe again.

Asia-san let out a shaky breath and Akeno-san relaxed her shoulders, no longer looking like she was preparing to draw a weapon.

“Master, Sirzechs-sama, and those from the House of Phoenix knew it would turn out like this. To tell the truth this was to be the last meeting for discussion. It was known that there would not be a resolution, so they decided to make a last resort.” Grayfia stated while straightening out a wrinkle in her apron that only she could see.

“Last resort? What do you mean, Grayfia?”

“Ojou-sama, if you wish to call off the engagement, then it could be settled by having a [Rating Game] against Riser-sama?

I turned to Issei-san, noticing his lost expression and explained. “It’s a game that is played by the Devils with peerage, and they compete by making their servants battle.”

Buchou was responding to Grayfia. “They can be used if it involves family and household problems.” She continued after sighing. “In other words, Otou-sama and the others decided to have a game when I refused again?. How much of my life will they interfere with until they are satisfied!” 

She was furious. It was simple to see that this had been going on long before today and wearing away at her just as long.

Grayfai continued non-plussed. “Then Ojou-sama, you are saying you would also decline to participate in the game?”

I noticed that Grafia was leading her to the decision.

Not that there was another that Rias-buchou would pick.

She scowled before responding “No, I won’t, since this is a chance. Alright then. Let’s settle this with a game, Riser.”

Riser leaned back further into his seat and grinned smugly “Hee, so you're accepting it. I don’t mind. But I’m already a matured Devil and I have already participated in the official game. Right now I have won most of the games. Even so, you still want to play, Rias?”

He didn’t even view this as anything more than a tantrum from Buchou.

He couldn’t see a way where he didn’t get what he wanted.

“I will. I will blow you away, Riser!”

“When I win we will be married. If I somehow lose, do whatever you’d like.”

The rest of the peerage silently watched the exchange. Mentally preparing for this rating game.

Issei-san looked like he was struggling not to interject.

“Understood. I, Grayfia, have confirmed both sides' opinions. I will be in charge of the game between the two households. Is this acceptable?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah.”

Both quickly agreed.

“Understood. I will inform both households then.”

Grayfia bowed her head.

Riser turned his attention to the rest of us in the room.

“Hey, Rias. Would the ones here be your servants?”

He was egging Buchou on even more.

Maybe he was doing it naturally.

“So what?”

Riser started to laugh.

“Then this match will be a joke. Only your Queen, the “Priestess of Thunder” can fight on par with my adorable servants.”

Saying that, Riser gestured lazily with one hand and snapped. A magic circle flared in the room behind him—Phoenix fire, controlled and gold-bright—and this time when figures stepped through, the effect was intentional in a way his own arrival had only hinted at.

“These are my cute servants.”

His peerage appeared.

Women.

All of them.

Beautiful in different ways, dressed with the confidence of people who knew exactly what impression they made.

For one second, my attention split cleanly in two.

The first part of me assessed them automatically: number, spacing, posture, rank clues, ease of movement, the degree of discipline visible beneath elegance.

The second part of me, unwillingly, registered Issei-san’s face.

I had known him long enough to recognize the exact instant he began his shameless perverted appreciation and envy began to pour out of him.

It was, frankly, mortifying.

His anger did not disappear.

It simply had to share space with a very male realization that Riser’s peerage was composed entirely of attractive women.

Akeno-san made the smallest possible sound beside Buchou, something almost like laughter and not kind at all.

Koneko-chan’s expression flattened further.

Asia-san looked at Issei-san, then at the arriving girls, then back at Issei-san with visible distress.

Kusari-san did not react in the same way at all.

That was notable.

Her gaze moved over Riser’s peerage with the same ruthless economy she used on spell structures. No distraction. No embarrassment. No awe. She was measuring them.

Useful.

Also troubling, because it reminded me how difficult she still was to classify.

Riser noticed Issei-san’s reaction instantly.

Of course he did.

“H-Hey, Rias…… This servant-kun over here is crying a lot while looking at me.”

Riser said it while looking at Issei-san. He seemed perturbed

Buchou places her hand on her forehead.

It’s incredible she is surprised by him at this point.

“This boy’s dream is to have a harem. I think he was moved after looking at your servants.”

Several of the girls began to show disgust with Issei-san and make comments.

I rubbed my brow as I tuned Issei-san’s nonsense out.

When I looked up I caught the end of whatever Riser was saying.

“-how passionate we are.”

Riser grabbed one of the women and the two began to kiss passionately.

Asia-san’s face went red and she covered her eyes.

Koneko-chan stared dully at them, judging them in her head.

Rias-buchou didn’t react.

Akeno-san seemed amused at Issei-san’s antics but annoyed at the same time. Her smile thinning.

Kurasi-san was unperturbed. She seemed like she wanted them to finish whatever they were doing so she could strategize in peace.

Issei-san looked amazed and enraged at the same time.

I felt a headache coming on.

When Riser went for another of the women I began to rub the bridge of my nose while closing my eyes and tuning the conversation out again.

This was a serious matter not that long ago.

“-Boosted Gear!”

I snapped to attention at Issei-san’s shout.

“A womaniser like you isn’t good enough to be with Buchou!” He shouted while pointing his armored hand.

“Huh? Weren’t you looking up to the so-called womaniser?”

Issei-san had the decency to look mildly ashamed

“S-Shut up! That’s different from the thing about Buchou! At this rate, you will continue to flirt with other girls even after you marry Buchou!”

“Heroes love women. That’s a saying in the human world, right? A good phrase indeed. But this is just a close relationship with my servants. Aren’t you also getting adored by Rias?”

Issei-san and Riser were going back and forth as we all watched.

Grayfia hadn’t even blinked.

“Hero my ass! You are just a bird guy! Fire bird Phoenix? Hahaha! That’s the same as Yakitori!” 

Issei-san finally hit a nerve

“Yakitori!? Y-You Low-class Devil! Don’t get ahead of yourself! That’s not the way you talk to a High-class Devil! Rias, what’s going on with your discipline towards your servants!?”

Buchou just looks away and says “Like I care”.

She finally seemed to smile with that comment.

“Hey Yakitori-guy! I will just beat the crap out of you with my Boosted Gear! We don’t need to have a game! I will just take you all down, right here, right now!”

[Boost!!]

Issei-san was overconfident and reckless.

He was unaware just how little he knew of a fight between devils.

Riser sighed.

Riser tilted his head. “Mira. Do it.

Grayfia-sama did not stop it.

That told me this still fit within the social boundaries of the meeting.

I disliked that realization intensely.

Issei-san stepped forward before anyone could advise him not to.

“Fine!” he snapped. “I’ll show you—”

He stepped forward with a wide swing, telegraphing his attack.

Mira did not.

She crossed the room in a blur of movement that was not as fast as a knight like me or as powerfully as a rook, but far beyond Issei-san’s current ability to handle in close range while angry.

That was the real problem.

Issei-san had power.

He did not yet have control to match it.

He threw himself into the opening exchange with exactly the kind of reckless determination I had expected. He was stronger than he had been only a short while ago. More committed too. But anger was riding too high in him, and his line was far too easy to read.

Mira slipped inside it.

One clean strike.

A pivot.

A second hit where his balance had already begun to fail.

Then Issei-san was on the floor.

It happened that quickly.

Too quickly for his pride. Too quickly for the room to pretend otherwise.

Asia-san gasped and half-rose. Koneko-chan’s hands clenched. Akeno-san’s smile vanished completely for the first time since Riser arrived.

Buchou’s expression did not crack, but her eyes changed.

Kusari-san watched Issei-san on the floor with the same terrible stillness she had used watching yesterday’s fight against the spirit. I could almost see her understanding taking shape. Not sympathy exactly. Not detachment either. Something closer to diagnosis.

Mira stepped back, calm, controlled, and not even breathing hard.

A demonstration.

That was all it had been meant to be.

With a shout Asia-san ran forward to heal and check on Issei-san.

Riser spread his hands as if the outcome merely proved what any reasonable person should have known from the beginning. “See? That is the level of difference involved.”

Issei-san pushed himself upright, face twisted with rage and humiliation. That combination was dangerous in him. He was at his most reckless when he felt both at once.

“I’m not done,” he said.

“You are for now,” Buchou said.

Her voice did what no one else’s could have managed in that moment.

It cut through him.

Not all the way. Not enough to calm him. Enough to stop him from lunging again.

He stayed where he was, breathing too hard.

Riser put his hand to his chin. “Rias, how about we have a match in 10 days? We could do it now, but that wouldn't be interesting.”

He looked over us then—over Buchou, Akeno-san, Koneko-chan, Asia-san, Issei-san, Kusari-san, and finally me—like a man assessing entertainment he had already paid for.

“You may have ten days.”

Ten days.

The number hit harder than I expected.

Not because it was short. Because it was real.

A future problem had just become a schedule.

Ten days meant triage.

Ten days meant immediate weakness assessment.

Ten days meant there was no time at all for self-indulgence, no matter how angry or embarrassed Issei-san felt after Mira’s effortless victory.

Riser was still speaking. “Train. Prepare. Convince yourselves you have a chance. I am generous enough to allow that.”

Generous.

I made myself keep my face still.

Beside me, Kusari-san’s expression did not change, but I saw the shift in her eyes. Numbers. Roles. Structure. She had moved from social reading to battle preparation the instant the timeframe was spoken.

Again: useful.

Again: a little troubling.

Buchou drew herself up. “Then it is settled.”

Grayfia-sama inclined her head once. “I will arrange the necessary formalities.”

Riser’s peerage began to reform behind him with the smoothness of people accustomed to winning before the match began. Mira gave Issei-san one last measured glance—not cruel, not kind, simply dismissive in the way only a clean, overwhelming victory could permit.

It landed exactly as badly as expected.

He needed to feel it.

Not because I enjoyed his humiliation.

Because if he did not feel the gap, he would not survive trying to close it.

Riser looked back to Buchou one last time. “I look forward to our wedding all the same.”

Buchou’s eyes went cold enough to frost the air between them.

Then he left in flame.

His peerage vanished after him.

The heat went with them, but not the pressure they had brought into the room.

For a few seconds after the magic circles were gone, no one spoke.

Issei-san was the one who broke first.

“I’ll beat him,” he said.

The words were raw. Immediate. Stupid. Earnest.

Entirely him.

Asia-san looked at him with shining worry. Koneko-chan did not roll her eyes, which from her counted as extraordinary restraint. Akeno-san finally exhaled, the sound equal parts fondness and exasperation. Kusari-san briefly acknowledged his existence before going back to thinking. Buchou closed her eyes once, then reopened them more steadily than before.

I found that I did not dislike his words.

I disliked how unready he still was to back them up.

Before anyone else could shape the next step, Buchou spoke.

“We are leaving for my family’s mountain estate. First thing in the morning”

That caught the room by surprise.

Even me, and I had already begun running possible training structures through my head the moment Riser said ten days.

Akeno-san smiled faintly. “My my. Immediate, then.”

“Yes,” Buchou said. “There is no value in losing time.”

Her gaze moved over all of us in turn.

To Issei-san first, of course.

Then Koneko-chan. Akeno-san. Asia-san. Me.

It paused, briefly but distinctly, on Kusari-san.

That pause mattered too.

“The estate is isolated and properly equipped,” Buchou continued. “We will train there and prepare as a peerage. No distractions. No delays.”

The room finally had direction.

Issei-san pushed himself fully to his feet now, anger transmuting into forward motion because he did not know how to stay still with strong feelings for very long. “Right. Yeah. Good. We’ll do it.”

He looked terrible.

He sounded sincere.

Asia-san nodded almost immediately after him, as if his certainty gave her something to hold onto. Koneko-chan’s small “Yes” carried more threat than agreement. Akeno-san’s smile returned, gentler now but edged with anticipation. Buchou stood straighter.

Kusari-san said nothing.

She did not need to.

I had already seen the change when the ten days were named.

Whatever else she still was—guarded, careful, more asset-shaped than she should be—she had already placed herself inside the coming battle in her own mind.

Grayfia-sama gave the slightest nod, as though the room had at last arrived at the shape it was always going to take. “Then I will leave you to your preparations.”

Her departure was much quieter than Riser’s.

No less absolute.

Once she was gone, the clubroom changed again.

Not back to normal.

Something else.

Not a place where tea was usually served and flyers were discussed and school routine briefly mingled with devil business.

A war room.

A place from which we would prepare to fight for our king.

I looked at Buchou.

At Issei-san, still flushed with anger and shame and determination.

At Asia-san, frightened but staying.

At Koneko-chan and Akeno-san, already aligning themselves around the future conflict.

At Kusari-san, pale and unreadable near the edge of the room, watching everything with those quiet purple eyes that missed too little.

Ten days.

Too little.

Enough to matter if spent correctly.

I understood my role in that immediately.

Knight. Blade. Structure.

I also understood, with a certainty I did not entirely like, that Kusari-san was no longer something merely added to Buchou’s peerage for future convenience.

Whatever she was, whatever history still sat locked inside the habits of that too-careful body—

She would be part of what came next.

And for the first time since Riser had entered the room, that thought did not feel uncertain.

It felt inevitable.

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