Later that afternoon, I found myself sitting across from Sona in the student council room, a chess board between us as usual. I'd showered and changed, but couldn't completely hide the stiffness in my movents.
"You're favoring your right side," Sona observed as she made her opening move.
I smiled wryly. "Nothing escapes you, does it?"
"Very little," she agreed. "Especially when it concerns people I'm interested in."
The casual way she said it made sothing flutter in my chest, but her expression remained composed, violet eyes fixed on the board.
"Training accident," I explained, moving my pawn. "Got a bit carried away."
She raised an eyebrow. "Just you getting carried away? Or did soone help?"
I hesitated, then decided partial honesty was best. "Azazel brought a sparring partner."
Yes, Sona already knew I had been in contact with Azazel. After our talk the other day, I'd finally opened up to her about my supernatural "ntor" situation. I told her how Azazel had basically forced his way into my life, declaring himself my guide to the supernatural world whether I wanted one or not.
"Azazel is self-serving," she'd warned , "but not malicious in the way many supernatural beings are. Still, be careful what you reveal to him."
That mory faded as Sona's voice pulled back to the present.
"Anyone I know?" she asked sharply, leaning forward slightly.
"Maybe." I deliberately kept my answer vague. "Strong guy. White hair. Superiority complex you can see from space."
Her eyes widened slightly, then narrowed. "Vali Lucifer."
It wasn't a question.
Sona was silent for a mont, studying the board but clearly not focusing on the ga. "Be careful with him. He's not like other devils. Power is all that matters to him—power and the thrill of testing it against worthy opponents."
"And now he thinks I might be one," I sighed. "Lucky ."
"It's not funny," she said sharply. "Getting his attention is... complicated. The White Dragon Emperor isn't soone to take lightly."
I leaned back, surprised by her intensity. "I'm being careful, Sona. I promise."
Her expression softened slightly. "Good. Just... keep it that way."
We played in silence for a few moves, the only sound the soft click of pieces against the board. I found myself watching her more than the ga—the careful precision of her movents, the slight furrow of concentration between her brows.
"Can I ask you sothing?" I said finally.
She looked up. "Of course."
"Why does it matter to you? If I get myself in trouble with Vali or anyone else?"
The question hung in the air between us. Sona's hand paused over a bishop, then withdrew.
"Is it so strange that I'd be concerned about a friend?" she asked, her voice carefully neutral.
"No," I admitted. "But most devils I've t don't get concerned about humans unless there's sothing in it for them."
She t my gaze directly. "Then perhaps you need to et better devils."
I couldn't help smiling at that. "Maybe I already have."
A faint blush touched her cheeks, and she quickly returned her attention to the board. "Your move," she said, but I caught the small smile she tried to hide.
As I considered my next move, I realized sothing had shifted between us. The careful dance of business partners and supernatural allies had evolved into sothing I couldn't quite define—wasn't ready to define, maybe.
But whatever it was, I found myself looking forward to seeing where it might lead.
"Check," Sona said, breaking into my thoughts.
I blinked down at the board, realizing I'd let my guard down completely. Her queen had cornered.
"You're distracted today," she observed.
"It's been an eventful morning," I admitted, moving my king out of danger.
"Do you want to postpone?" she offered. "We could reschedule if you're too tired."
"No," I said, more quickly than I intended. "No, this is... nice. After everything else today."
Her expression softened again, and this ti she didn't try to hide her small smile. "Yes, it is."
We continued playing, and for a little while, the rest of the world faded into the background. It was just Sona and , and a chess board.
—
Two weeks.
That was how fast ti flies.
I was lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling and ntally tracking my Workshop queue for the hundredth ti. There was still a month left before Laevateinn finished manifesting. My apocalyptic trump card is still out of reach when I was starting to feel like I might need it soon.
These past few days, I'd been sparring with Vali almost every other day. The White Dragon Emperor was brutal but effective as a training partner. Each session left bruised, exhausted, and undeniably stronger. Everyday I am getting better, my reactions faster, my techniques sharper.
But despite all that progress, sothing felt wrong.
It was like an itch at the back of my skull that I couldn't scratch. A nagging feeling in my gut that sothing was coming. Not specific enough to be a warning, just a vague sense of impending trouble that kept up at night.
My own personal spidey sense going haywire.
I rolled onto my side, watching shadows play across the wall as a car passed by outside. Was I just being paranoid?
I checked my phone. No ssages from Azazel, Sona, and from the company. Just a normal Tuesday night.
So why couldn't I shake this feeling?
I sat up, rubbing my face with both hands. Maybe I was overthinking things.
Three sharp knocks at my door cut through the silence.
"Young master?" Hayama's voice. Steady as always, but... different sohow.
"Co in," I called, suddenly alert. Hayama never bothered this late unless it was important.
The door opened slowly. Hayama stood there, perfectly composed as always, but his face... I'd never seen him look like that before. Pale. Almost gray. Like soone had drained all the blood from his face.
"What is it?" I asked, already standing, already knowing this was bad. Really bad.
"Young master..." Hayama began, then stopped. He took a breath, visibly steadying himself. "I'm afraid I have grave news."
The feeling in my gut intensified, cold and heavy, like I'd swallowed a block of ice.
"There's been an accident," he continued, his voice chanical now, like he was forcing each word out. "Your parents' plane... it went down over the Pacific an hour ago."
The world seed to tilt around .
"What?" The word ca out barely audible.
"Ergency responders are on the scene, but..." His voice cracked, the first ti I'd ever heard his perfect composure slip. "There are no survivors, sir."
No survivors.
The words hung in the air between us, impossible to process, impossible to accept.
"That's not..." I started, then stopped. My brain wasn't working right. Couldn't form thoughts. Couldn't string sentences together.
"I'm deeply sorry, young master," Hayama said, and I could see that he was. His eyes were red-rimd, his hands trembling slightly at his sides.
I realized I was still standing, frozen in place. My legs felt numb. My whole body felt numb, actually, like I was floating outside of it, watching this happen to soone else.
This couldn't be real.
My parents couldn't be dead.
They were just here last week. Dad had been complaining about the new trade regulations. Mom had been planning a charity gala. They were supposed to be in Tokyo until Friday, then fly to New York for etings. The trip across the Pacific wasn't scheduled until next month.
"There must be a mistake," I said, my voice sounding strangely calm to my own ears. "They weren't supposed to fly out yet."
"There was an ergency board eting called in San Francisco," Hayama explained gently. "They took the company jet this morning."
This morning.
They'd been gone before I woke up.
I hadn't even said goodbye.
I sat down heavily on the edge of my bed, the room spinning around .
"The authorities will need to speak with you," Hayama continued, "but I've asked them to wait until morning. The company's legal team has been notified. They're already working on... arrangents."
Arrangents. Such a small, neat word for the chaos that follows death.
"Thank you," I managed, the words automatic, aningless.
Hayama hesitated, then took a step toward . "Is there anything I can do for you, sir? Anything at all?"
I looked up at him, this man who had served my family for decades. Who had known my parents far longer than I had in this life. His grief was as real as mine, just better contained.
"No," I said. "I just... I need so ti."
He nodded, understanding. "Of course. I'll be nearby if you need ."
With a small bow, he withdrew, closing the door softly behind him.
And just like that, I was alone.
My parents were dead.
=====
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