(3rd Person POV)
Three days. That's how long it had been since the new members joined the Newspaper Club, and also three days since Tsukune Aono walked into Gin's life and began shattering his bubble, by rearranging the 'furniture' that was the day-to-day activities of the Club with the start of a new project that would mark a new era for the Newspaper Club.
Gin sat on the edge of his bed, the curtains drawn, his room lit only by the faint glow of his camera screen. The photos were spread out around him—on the bed, on the desk, on the floor.
Dozens of them. Most were candid shots of Moka and Kurumu, taken from angles they'd never notice. A few were of the club working together. Some pictures were of Shizuka-sensei acting cute, her nekomata tail on full display. Tsukune explaining a concept with his hands moving. Moka smiling. Kurumu posing with a mock microphone.
He picked up a photo of Moka—her head tilted while her pink hair catching the light. Her smile was soft and unguarded. She hadn't noticed him taking pictures during their first meeting, since she had been distracted by something Tsukune had said.
His thumb traced the curve of her cheek in the image.
'She is truly the most beautiful girl I have seen.'
'Reminds me of San-senpai.'
'But it frustrates me! What does he HAVE that I don't?'
He was pissed at the whole situation, on how Tsukune broke the status quo by bringing a new initiative and project for the Club to take on since they had more members to handle all the roles. This project was a study of how the first-years had integrated into the Yokai Academy, of how well they'd adapted to the 'human' way of life—the lifestyle of creatures they were supposed to be superior to.
What they worried about when learning how to pass by as humans.
To this idea, Shizuka-sensei had almost instantly reacted by pushing it forward, even going as far as asking permission from the Headmaster for the collaboration of the Student Council, but Tsukune paused Shizuka-sensei from getting too excited.
Still, she praised Tsukune's initiative, and said this was exactly the kind of journalism the club needed, and put this kohai in charge of such an important project to rejuvenate the Club.
Meanwhile, Gin's role? It was a lame one, a background act where he would take pictures, share his experience as an editor to Tsukune which he hated the most, because he felt like he was talking to a guy who already knew the details, but chose to listen just to make fun of him.
Overall, he would be an assistant to the new kid, and help this bastard take on the glory of a successful project.
His hands trembled as he set the photo down. The more he looked at the collection, the more he noticed it—the way Moka and Kurumu looked at Tsukune. Their eyes were soft, warm, hungry in a way that made Gin's chest ache. He'd seen that look before, back when San Otonashi was the president of a functional Newspaper Club that was amongst the main clubs of the Academy, a year ago.
It was all before Kuyo—who, annoyed by the bad press of the Newspaper Club reporting on his own misconduct and injustices—took it upon himself to destroy the Club. He used all of his means to shut it down, but because of San Otonashi's own efforts the club lasted, while the hotheaded kohai challenged Kuyo, only to be humiliated in front of the woman he could call his first crush.
However, the efforts of one person could only last so much, and once she graduated from the Yokai Academy, the Newspaper Club was picked apart, most members leaving, and only Gin remained as the only registered student.
And now, a year later, Moka Akashiya had walked into the club room.
She had pink hair instead of dark-blue, green eyes instead of blue. But she had the same soft smile. The same gentle laugh. The same way of making the room feel warmer just by being in it.
She reminded him of San. She reminded him of everything he'd lost and everything he still wanted. But she looked at Tsukune the same way San had never looked at him—with trust, with affection, with a warmth that Gin had never received from any woman.
And Gin couldn't stand it.
'Why does he get what I never could? Why does he deserve their smiles, their touches, their love?'
'I've been here longer, it's only right that I get some rewards for being the president of the Club. I've suffered more than enough, maybe is time I relax for a while before I graduate.'
While the memories of the past came haunting him, Gin frowned, clenched his fists and teeth, and with the rising anger, his transformation revealed itself.
His body swelled, muscles rippling beneath his skin as black fur sprouted along his arms, his chest, his back. The fur was thick and dark, like charcoal dust, absorbing the faint light from his camera screen rather than reflecting it. His jaw elongated, teeth lengthening into fangs that pressed against his lower lip. His ears tapered to points, and from the base of his spine, a thick, powerful tail unfurled, lashing against the bedframe.
His eyes—those were the worst. They shifted from their usual dull brown to a burning, predatory gold, the pupils slitting vertically like a wolf's. In the darkness of his room, they glowed with an almost supernatural light, reflecting the moon that seeped through the cracks in his curtains.
Here, in his own dorm room, he didn't have to suppress his form by cosplaying as a human and respecting those 'nonsensical' rules, he could just be himself.
But by unleashing his true form, he also let out the suppressed thoughts and desires he had over beautiful women that he took a fancy to. The ones who smiled at him, who laughed at his jokes, who made him feel like he wasn't just a mutt. The ones like San Otonashi. The ones like Moka Akashiya.
'Without him, they'd see me. Without him, I could finally have what I want. He's the only thing in my way.'
He thought of his father. The old man's voice, drunk and cruel: "You'll never be the leader of the pack. You'll never have anything worth having. You're just a mutt, like your mother."
He remembered his father's claws and beatings that the werewolves of his clan didn't even bother protecting him from. It was called 'toughening up the pup', which left him with many open psychological scars.
He was a bastard of a pureblooded Werewolf Clan that resided in Japan, and as the 'tradition' called, if you thought humans were racists, then you never experienced the distaste of your own kind, since the Yokai were supremacists to their own race.
He'd left the clan, running away without turning his head back for a moment, using the help of some stray devil to use his Illusion magic to force his way inside human society, first by joining human schools but because of his unstable control over his human form.
He would reveal his true form, which led to his disappearance from the records of these schools. Facing monster hunters as a young teen left him with a bitter taste in his mouth and plenty of resentment, but not as much as the resentment he held for his own father.
He was the one who dismissed any of his interests and hobbies that looked 'human' such as lowly and beneath a proud noble Werewolf, reminding him at each occasion that he was a 'Pathetic mutt'.
But the women weren't the problem. They never had been. The problem was the men who took them away. First, San had never looked at him—not really. She'd been kind, but she'd never seen him in that way, he could tell that her way of acting around him was more like taking care of a puppy.
And now Moka looked at Tsukune the same way. With that same quiet affection that made Gin's chest ache with want.
He wanted to be the center of attention, to be like the heroes from the manga he had read while inside the human world. He wanted to be the one who made her smile, who made her feel safe, who made her forget her fears. But Tsukune was in the way.
'Always in the way.'
Gin's claws dug into the bedframe, leaving gouges in the wood. The pain was distant, unimportant. What mattered was the shape of the obstacle in his mind—Tsukune's face, calm and confident, always with that knowing look, as if he could see right through Gin's attempts to be normal.
'He thinks he's better than me. He acts like he's better than me. He walks around with those two on his arms like they're trophies, like he's already won.'
The thought curdled in his gut, hot and acidic.
'Not yet. You have not won anything. Not while you're still inside my Club that I bled for.'
Gin rose from the bed, his transformed body filling the small room. The moonlight caught the edges of his fur, turning the black strands to silver. His tail swept across the floor, knocking loose photos that fluttered down like wounded birds.
He paced to the window. The glass reflected his wolfish face back at him—golden eyes, elongated snout, the promise of violence in every line.
'I'll face him on the full moon to ensure that I can kill him for sure.'
'I'll challenge him when the moon is about to rise, in front of Moka and Kurumu. He won't be able to refuse then, not when his pride is at stake and not with them watching.'
'And if he refuses to grant me this challenge, then I will simply force his hand by stealing his 'beloved'. Hmph, let's see if you would still act arrogantly in front of me, you damned bloodsucker.'
'Right, I need to check on his strengths and maybe sniff out some weaknesses since those mermaids refused to tell me anything about that bastard. As if he had made a deal with them to never talk about him.'
'Unimportant. I will just use my dogs to check on him.'
He placed the photo face-down on his desk, next to the camera. The screen had gone dark, but the memory of Tsukune's confident smile still lingered in his mind.
Gin closed his eyes and reached out with his will.
Gin smiled, and in his transformed face, the expression was all teeth.
'Let's see what you're made of, Aono Tsukune.'
---
(Tsukune's POV)
The walk back to the dorms should have been peaceful. The club activities had gone well—better than well, actually. Kurumu had thrown herself into the interview techniques with an enthusiasm I hadn't expected, and Moka had found her rhythm with the editing section, her quiet focus a welcome contrast to Kurumu's energy.
For the first time since we'd joined, the Newspaper Club felt less like a chore and more like something we could actually enjoy.
The sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple, and the Academy grounds were quiet as the three of us stepped into that damned forest—like, come on, couldn't we have another route back to the dormitory?
But then Kuriboh stirred on my shoulder, its tiny body going rigid while its wings flattened against its back, and the little creature let out a low, nervous chirp that I'd learned to recognize over the past few days.
Kuri.
"Yeah," I murmured under my breath, keeping my expression neutral and my pace steady. "I feel it too."
I didn't let my face change, didn't let my stride falter, but behind my eyes, something shifted. Brown bled to crimson, and my pupils narrowed to slits—a trick I'd learned to call on my vampire form without triggering the full transformation, one of the small benefits of my growing Bloodline Control.
The forest around us seemed to darken, the shadows between the trees pooling deeper than they should, and I could feel the weight of something watching from the darkness ahead.
I slowed my pace just enough to let Moka and Kurumu register the change, my eyes scanning the treeline while my expression remained carefully neutral. The crimson in my eyes wasn't visible unless someone was looking directly at me, and neither of them was—not yet.
Kurumu's chatter died mid-sentence, and her usual animated energy seemed to drain out of her as she looked at me with a furrowed brow. "What's going on? You're doing that thing with your face again."
"I think we have a guest."
Before either of them could respond, I reached down and brushed my fingers against my shadow. The connection flared, warm and familiar, and I felt the Vampire Familiar stir beneath the darkness.
The bat slipped from my shadow without a sound, its tiny form barely a flicker in the fading light, and vanished into the trees ahead. The Retainer followed a moment later, its silver-and-black fur blending into the growing shadows as it padded silently into the underbrush.
'Find them', I thought at the pair. 'Don't engage. Just locate and report.'
They acknowledged the command, and in a split second they were gone from my shadow.
Moka's hand found my arm, her fingers pressing into my sleeve. She'd gone pale, her green eyes scanning the treeline with an intensity that told me Inner Moka was feeding her information. "I feel it too," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Tsukune, it's the same as before. But this time there are more. It feels stronger than before as well."
Outer Moka was a good girl now, not acting selfish since she'd had her day experiencing what it was like to be a 'normal' girl taking on her first day at a school club. She told me everything Inner Moka had told her, except for their romance arguments, which I figured were none of my business until they decided to make them my business.
Kurumu's hands clenched at her sides. "Then what are we waiting for?" she asked, her voice tight. "Let's go find the bastard and—"
"Stay here. I don't want to endanger both of you." I looked at them both, letting the weight of the words settle. "If something happens and you sense another presence approaching, run in the direction I'm going. I'll sense it and come find you."
"What about you?" Kurumu grabbed my arm, her grip tight enough to hurt. "You can't just—"
"That's why, I'll go confront this person once and for all. I don't like the feeling of being watched."
"So be good while I'm gone."
I gently pried her fingers loose, then let my wings unfold. Bat-like and black, they spread wide behind me, tearing through the fabric of my uniform at the seams. I'd have to get it repaired again, which would cost me since I was using the services of a skilled senpai whose silk thread was nearly impenetrable—Rachnera-senpai, of course.
Her work was expensive but worth every yen.
Kurumu's protests faded as I pushed off the ground and rose above the trees, the wind rushing past my face and the forest spreading out below me like a dark carpet. Behind me, I heard her voice carry up through the canopy, sharp and annoyed.
"So now I'm stuck with you," she said, and I could picture her crossing her arms and glaring at Moka. "Why do you even have your powers sealed anyway? Do you have some kind of quirk where you enjoy being beaten around by others?"
Moka's response was too quiet for me to hear, but the scoff in her voice was unmistakable. "I don't enjoy your company that much either," she said, and I could imagine the matching glares they were exchanging.
I pushed the sounds of their bickering aside and focused on the task ahead.
Meanwhile, as I got above the forest, I could feel the cold air up here, thin and sharp against my skin; the smallest details were in my grasp as I advanced further in my acclimatization to my vampiric senses.
The world below resolved into sharp detail—every branch, every shadow, every flicker of movement in the underbrush. I reached out through the bond with the Familiar and the Retainer, feeling their positions like points of light in the back of my mind.
'Echo Location.' I thought, and the Familiar responded immediately.
[Echo Location Activated]
The pulse went out, silent and invisible, and the minimap bloomed in the corner of my vision.
A cluster of hostile signatures appeared in the forest ahead—about a dozen of them, all C-tier, their markers flickering like angry fireflies. And beyond them, moving away, a larger signature that I recognized immediately from the last time I'd felt it in the corridor.
Gin.
He was withdrawing, his marker fading from the edge of the mini-map as he retreated deeper into the forest. He seems wasn't intent on engaging in a clash with me, at least not directly. He was instead probing for my abilities and weaknesses by sending his dogs to do the dirty work while he observed from a safe distance.
'Smart… Cowardly, but smart.'
The Vampire Retainer reached the C-tier monsters first. I felt its presence through the bond, sensed its muscles coiling as it prepared to strike, and then I heard the howl—a deep, resonant sound that carried through the forest and seemed to vibrate in my chest.
[Wolf's Howl Activated]
At that, I got in range, and spotted that all of those C-tier monsters were in the form of large wolves.
With the Retainer's Howl, the pack of wolves staggered, stunned by the sonic wave, and with this opening, the vampiric wolf lunged at the nearest beast to take a bite out of it. Nonetheless, there were too many.
Even with the stun, the wolves were recovering quickly, their bodies already shaking off the effect, and I could see through the bond that the Retainer was about to be overwhelmed.
I dove.
The wind screamed past my ears as I angled toward the ground, my wings folded back to reduce drag, and I hit the forest floor with enough force to crack the earth beneath my feet.
The wolves turned toward me as I landed, their eyes glowing like embers in the dark—dozens of them, sleek and black-furred, their forms flickering between shadow and flesh in a way that suggested they weren't entirely natural creatures. They looked like wolves, moved like wolves, but there was something wrong about them, something summoned and controlled rather than born with it.
'About ten of them, I guess. All of them at C-tier, not even a challenge. Nothing but cannon fodder.'
'Disappointing, but a welcome meal.'
The Retainer was at my side in an instant, its fur bristling, its teeth bared. The Familiar darted through the shadows above, waiting for an opening.
[Ghoul Vampire Trigger – ACTIVE]
The transformation was seamless now. My skin paled to marble. My fangs lengthened, pressing against my lower lip. My eyes burned crimson, and with the vampire transformation I also effortlessly created my blood sword—not the crude, crooked blade from my first attempts, but something else entirely.
The longsword was elegant in its simplicity: a straight blade, double-edged, with a subtle taper toward the point. The crossguard was curved just enough to catch an enemy's weapon. The grip was wrapped in what felt like leather, though it was only blood given texture. The pommel was a simple faceted stone, dark red, pulsing faintly with my heartbeat.
It was a copy of Alucard's heirloom sword. Not exact—I didn't have the skill for that yet—but close enough that when I held it, I felt like I was holding something that belonged in a legend.
Three days of training with Silent Swordsman had done more for my swordsmanship than weeks of practicing alone. The little bastard never spoke, but his sword said everything that needed to be spoken, and now it had left an imprint on myself and the way I fought with a sword.
The first wolf lunged. I sidestepped, my footwork cleaner than it had ever been, my stance balanced and ready. Silent Swordsman had drilled me on that for hours, and it showed.
I drove the blade through the wolf's chest in one smooth motion, twisting as I pulled it free, and the creature dissolved into ash, its essence draining into me.
Another wolf lunged, and another, and I met them both with a speed that would have been impossible a week ago. My strength was at the pinnacle of B-tier, my agility the same, and against C-tier cannon fodder, I might as well have been a god.
The blade moved through the air in arcs that were almost too fast to track, and each strike found its mark—a throat, a chest, a skull. The wolves fell around me, their bodies dissolving into grey ash before they even hit the ground.
I felt a wicked grin spread across my face, the kind of satisfaction that came from seeing progress made real.
For the fourth and fifth wolves, I decided to have some fun with the new skill I'd been working on alone. They came at me together, flanking from both sides, their glowing eyes fixed on my throat. Instead of meeting them with the sword, I dismissed the blood sword into mist, freeing my hand, then cut my wrist with my claw—the sharpness made the motion effortless now.
Once I'd gotten past the mental block of self-harm—and let the blood flow. It welled up quickly, warm against my skin and with the blood mist around me, shaping it into twin spears, jagged and crimson, the blood hardening into solid form as it left my palm.
I hurled them at the nearest wolves before they could even react. Both spears found their targets, impaling the creatures and pinning them to the trees behind. The wolves dissolved into ash around the spears, and the blood evaporated back into my skin, reclaimed.
[Sanguine Spear – 100 MP]
Worth every point, I thought, grabbing the remaining spears from the fallen wolves before they could fully dissipate. I held one in each hand and charged into the remaining pack.
The Familiar darted between shadows, distracting, harrying. The Retainer fought at my side, its teeth finding throats and its claws raking bellies.
I moved through the pack with a rhythm I hadn't possessed a week ago, my blade singing through the air in arcs that were becoming more precise with every strike. I was still adapting to wielding a weapon—the sword felt more natural in my hand than the spears, but both were growing on me—and my supernatural traits made up for any remaining awkwardness.
At B-tier strength and agility, every swing had enough force behind it to shatter bone, and every dodge was fast enough to leave the wolves snapping at empty air.
Unlike the fight with the mermaids, where I'd been experimenting and even holding back from killing them, against these beasts I had no restraints. They weren't students. They weren't potential allies. They were summoned creatures, cannon fodder sent to test me, and I treated them as such. The wolves fell one after another, their numbers dwindling with every passing second, until the clearing was filled with nothing but grey ash and the fading scent of blood.
When it was over, I stood in the center of the carnage, my breathing steady, my clothes barely disturbed. The Familiar landed on my shoulder, preening. The Retainer sat at my feet, its tongue lolling, its tail wagging once.
I took a look at the increase of my stats, pulling up the status window. Just seeing them, made me satisfied, they were a noticeable increase that would take me on the hard route about one week of training.
[Strength: C (16/100)] -> [Strength: C (26/100)]
[Agility: C (14/100)] -> [Agility: C (24/100)]
[Vitality: B (8/100)] -> [Vitality: B (13/100)]
[Intelligence: C (95/100)
----
[Mana: B (12/100) | (1000/1000 MP)]
[Demonic Energy: C (74/100)]
The fight itself had been short-lived, barely a few minutes from start to finish, but it left me satisfied because the wolves had zero answers to my attacks. I was also pleased by the performance of the monsters I'd brought from the Yu-Gi-Oh world with Annihilation Maker.
However, the way Familiar and Retainer had struggled initially sent a clear message: I would have to work on creating more monsters using my Sacred Gear. If I ever reached an unmanageable number, I could just dismiss them and leave them in a stasis state inside my Sacred Gear—it was possible, one of the first experiments I'd done with the Gear to see what would happen when I dismissed my creations.
The Vampire Retainer had been on the chopping block for that experiment, and it had worked flawlessly.
'It seems Gin-senpai wanted to see my strength and left me some gifts,' I thought, dismissing the blood sword and letting the crimson fade from my eyes. 'Hopefully you got what you wished for.'
I turned and walked back through the forest, the ash from the fallen wolves scattering in the wind behind me. The Familiar nestled into my collar, and the Retainer padded at my heel like the loyal hound he was.
By the time I reached the edge of the trees, I could see Kurumu and Moka waiting where I'd left them, their silhouettes outlined against the fading light of the sunset.
I emerged from the forest without having done any other side-quests, and I was relieved to find that Kurumu and Moka hadn't been targeted once I'd left them alone. They were standing close together, their earlier bickering forgotten in the face of the tension, and when they saw me walking toward them, both of them let out visible sighs of relief.
Kurumu was the first to reach me, grabbing my arm and checking me over with her eyes. "You're not even scratched," she said, her voice caught between disbelief and relief. "Your clothes don't have a single tear. Not even dust."
"The wolves were C-tier cannon fodder," I said, keeping my voice light. "Nothing I couldn't handle."
Moka stepped closer, her hand hovering near my arm but not quite touching. Her green eyes searched my face for any sign of injury, and when she found none, she finally relaxed. "What happened? Who sent them?"
I let out a breath and ran a hand through my hair. "I sent a message to the stalker by killing their beast, it should be plenty to ensure not being targeted in broad daylight."
"But we should still be careful in the future; this stalker is a persistent one, and this might be just one of many attempts at finding our weakness. "
Kurumu's eyes narrowed, and she crossed her arms under her chest in that way that told me she was about to ask something I might not want to answer. "Tell me, Tsukune-kun. This is about Gin-senpai, right? He's the one stalking us, right?"
I didn't answer immediately, letting the silence stretch just long enough for her to know she'd hit the mark. Then I shrugged. "He hasn't acted himself or shown himself, but all the traces left behind make me suspect him the most."
"To answer your curiosity, yeah, he should be the one stalking us. That's why I told both of you to stick together."
Kurumu's face twisted into a displeased expression, and I couldn't help but add, "You hate it? Can't do much about it."
Moka spoke up, her voice quiet but firm. "Should we tell Nekonome-sensei? I'm sure she'll take care of it and tell Gin-senpai to stop."
To which I just shook my head, but Moka still felt guilty and continued saying. "I'm at fault for keeping it to myself, since I was selfish enough to want a normal day at the club. But as someone who's never experienced club activities in my life, I can't let it go."
I reached out and booped her forehead with my finger, not hard, just enough to make her blink. "You're so silly. There was no need to keep it to yourself. Can't you trust me to control my violent tendencies? Besides, I doubt he'll harm you girls. I'm sure he'll only pick on me because I've stolen his spotlight."
Kurumu snorted. "Narcissists think alike?"
I shot her a look. "Hey, careful with the words, young lady. Haven't I told you before that I only have tendencies." I let the joke hang for a moment, then continued. "But I guess you have a point. I should prepare a contingency for how to face Gin-senpai in case he does something crazy. He's still, after all, the club president, and Shizuka-sensei wouldn't want to see us destroy the club over some petty squabbles."
Kurumu waved a hand dismissively. "So what? It's not like we need that annoying senpai. He's creepy and a pervert. He's been ogling my breasts the whole time we've been working on the project. I'm sure you can defeat him, Tsukune-kun."
"Alright, thanks for the vote of confidence, Kurumu-chan." I smiled, but there was an edge to it. "But please, girls, don't shove me into fights left and right. The trope of the damsel in distress is dull and annoying. It makes you think you're watching a bad horror movie where the female protagonists keep making all the wrong choices."
I looked at them both, letting my expression soften. "Since I've opened your eyes to his perverted ways, you can avoid being exposed to indecent postures for his camera. And if he harasses you, make sure to tell me. If it goes to that point, I'll settle things with him once and for all."
Just as the tension was starting to ease, the sound of heavy, wheezing breaths reached us from the path behind. I turned to see three figures stumbling toward us, bent double and gasping for air like they'd just run a marathon through molasses.
The Idiot Trio had arrived.
Kazemaru was the first to collapse, his blue flames flickering weakly as he clutched his knees. Gorou wasn't far behind, his massive frame heaving, while Bunta simply flopped onto the grass and stared at the sky with the expression of a man who'd accepted his imminent death.
"We ran... all the way... from the dorms..." Kazemaru wheezed between gasps, his voice thin and reedy. "Boss... we heard... rumors..."
I pulled out my water bottle and handed it to him. "Relax. Take a sip. Catch your breath. Then talk."
He drank greedily, water spilling down his chin, and after a moment, he straightened up enough to speak. "A friend of a friend—someone connected to the Disciplinary Committee—they're watching you, boss. Asking questions about you. From how you defeated Ichinose-senpai to what kind of vampire you are."
I kept my expression neutral, but my mind was already racing. "Is there anything else?"
Kazemaru shook his head. "That's all we heard. But we thought you should know."
"You did good. All of you."
Gorou, who had been staring at Moka with the kind of intensity usually reserved for religious visions, suddenly pulled a crumpled piece of paper and a pen from his pocket. His hands were shaking as he held them out to her.
"Moka-sama," he said, his voice a reverent whisper. "Could I... could I have your autograph?"
Moka blinked. "My... autograph?"
"For my collection," Gorou explained, his cheeks flushing dark red. "I have posters. Of you. From the festival. And pictures from the, uh, nevermind is not important. But I would really love to have your autograph. Please."
Kurumu's eye twitched. Moka's face went pink, but she took the paper and pen with trembling fingers and signed it with a flourish that was probably illegible but which Gorou accepted like it was a holy relic. He clutched it to his chest and backed away, his eyes glazed with happiness.
Bunta, still lying on the grass, scratched his head and looked at his two companions with something inbetween exasperation and resignation.
He was an idiot, he knew. They were all idiots. But fighting Tsukune had been the best thing that ever happened to them. Once word got out that they'd faced him and lived, and with them boasting of being followers of Tsukune—no one touched them, in the sense that there were no longer bullies trying to pick on them for being nerdy.
And now, here they were, standing in the presence of two of the most beautiful girls in the Academy, and no one could call them a nuisance.
He grinned up at me. "We're glad you're okay, boss."
I looked at the three of them, and for once I didn't regret my decision of making them my pawns.
"Get some rest," I said. "All of you. And if you hear anything else about the Committee, you tell me. Understand?"
They nodded, all three, and then they were gone, probably returning back to the dorms.
Kurumu watched them go, her tail swishing. "Your fans are weird," she said.
"They're not my fans. They're my informants."
"Is there a difference?"
I thought about it for a bit and didn't have a concrete answer. "I don't know. Probably not."