DW DXD Chapter 3 Remastered Savior

Fuyuki City, Miyama Residential District, Yuuka and Misuki’s Home – 10:30 PM

Hana's residence was quiet at last. The faint hum of electricity had returned after what happened and a gentle winter breeze slipped through the edges of the windowpanes, rattling them softly. Issei and Yuuka spent a long time cleaning the blood. Yuuka then prepared the food with the smell lingered in the air, drifting in from the kitchen where dishes were stacked neatly after dinner.

Issei stretched out on the futon laid out for him in the guest room, groaning in relief as his muscles finally relaxed. His school uniform and red shirt were hanging by the window, dripping faintly as they dried. That left him in nothing but his boxers, sprawled on the futon like a man who had narrowly escaped death—which, in fact, he had.

“Ahhh! That was some good food.” His voice rang with satisfaction, the corners of his mouth curling into a lazy grin. ‘Finally… a full stomach and a hot bath. I thought I’d never get either again.’

A deep rumble of amusement filled and echoed from his mind. (That sure was nice of the girl to do all that work for you, Partner.) Ddraig’s voice rolled with mirth, the dragon clearly entertained by Yuuka’s “housewife” treatment.

Issei blinked, heat rising to his face. “True, I guess. But I’m gonna have to tell her again she doesn’t need to do all this.” His brows furrowed, guilt pricking the back of his mind. ‘I’ve already caused enough trouble for them. Eating their food, sleeping in their house… Am I just taking advantage of their kindness?’

Sherri’s even, almost clinical voice chimed in from the Dimensional Watch on his wrist. “Master, I believe Ms. Yuuka is trying to—”

(Now hold on, Sherri. Don’t tell him just yet.) Ddraig interrupted, his chuckle rolling like thunder.

“Why?” The AI asked, her tone edged with curiosity.

(Because the kid needs to figure this out on his own. If he doesn’t, he’ll never grow up. Spoon-feeding him every answer won’t help him.)

There was a brief pause before Sherri answered with quiet acceptance. “Understood.”

Issei narrowed his eyes at his wrist, suspicion flaring. “Oi. What are you two talking about?”

(Nothing.) / “Nothing,” Sherri echoed flatly at the same time.

Issei groaned and dropped his head back onto the pillow, pulling the blanket halfway over his face. “You’re both jerks, you know that?”

Silence answered him, followed by another low chuckle from Ddraig.

“Whatever,” Issei muttered, giving up the interrogation. His eyelids were already heavy, his body aching from a day full of excitement. “I’m going to sleep. It’s been a long day.”

Just as the room sank into darkness and Issei’s body finally began to relax, the quiet creak of the door made his eyes snap open. He turned his head groggily—only for the sight before him to burn the last remnants of sleep away.

Yuuka stepped carefully into the room, her slender frame illuminated by the faint hallway light spilling in behind her. She was wearing a blue negligee that clung to her body, its silk catching the dim glow and highlighting every curve. The shade matched her blue eyes perfectly, though Issei barely noticed that detail; his brain had already short-circuited. The fabric was thin, almost teasingly translucent in places, leaving very little to the imagination.

Issei’s eyes widened, his face heating up instantly. ‘Holy crap, this is real. This isn’t an eroge cutscene. This is happening right now.’

Yuuka lingered at the doorway, her hand clutching the frame, her gaze lowered slightly. “Sorry if I interrupted your sleep, Issei,” She murmured, her voice soft but trembling. “I… I can’t sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I see that man again. The knife. The blood. Can I sleep here with you?”

She felt a flicker of guilt even as the words left her lips. Part of her knew she was pulling on his protective instincts, maybe even manipulating him. But the truth was, the memory of what happened still clawed at her heart, and being near him. the boy who had stood between her and death, made her feel safe.

Issei, however, hardly processed her words. His brain was too busy chanting a single mantra: Oppai. Oppai. Oppai. A goofy, perverted grin spread across his face before he even realized it, his head bobbing quickly in agreement. “Y-Yeah! Sure! No problem! Sleep here, it’s totally fine!”

Yuuka gave a small smile and stepped inside, closing the door softly behind her. The room was once again bathed in darkness. The faint sound of her footsteps drew closer until she slipped under the covers beside him.

Issei lay stiff as a board, every nerve in his body on high alert. He barely breathed as Yuuka shifted, sliding to his left side. Without hesitation, she reached for his arm, gently pulling it across herself and tucking it snugly between her chest and thighs. The sudden press of warmth, the faint softness against his skin, made Issei’s mind go white.

She scooted closer, close enough that he could feel her breath tickling his cheek. The intimacy of it sent shivers down both their spines. Yuuka’s lashes fluttered shut, her grip tightening around his arm as though clinging to an anchor.

Issei’s eyes, on the other hand, were wide as saucers. His brain ran a thousand miles per hour. ‘This is insane. I’m a pervert! Girls don’t even look at me! And now… now I’m holding a girl in my arms. A girl older than me. A beautiful girl. Because she feels safe with me…’

The thoughts tumbled over themselves in a blur of disbelief, triumph, and childish glee. ‘Oppai. So soft. Harem King, here I come. Suck it, Matsuda, Motohama, I touched them first!’

But beneath the usual perverted excitement, something else slipped into his heart. She was here, trembling slightly, yet trusting him enough to let her guard down.

Slowly, his racing thoughts quieted. A warmth spread through his chest, not from her body pressed against him, but from the unspoken message in her actions: With you, I feel safe.

Soon, Yuuka’s breathing evened out, her body relaxing at last. She drifted into slumber, still holding onto him. Issei followed shortly after, not from peace of mind, but from sheer exhaustion. He had been awake nearly twenty-four hours, and his body finally surrendered to rest.

Neither noticed the faint glow that began to bloom across the back of Issei’s right hand. Crimson lines etched themselves into his skin, forming intricate patterns that pulsed with power.

Only Sherri observed, her voice whispering into the silence, cold and calculating.

“Interesting. The rune does not appear to be a threat. Probability of compatibility: high. Possible to link the rune through Watch. Should I initiate without the Master’s permission? Probability: He would approve. Beginning connection process.

10%... 20%... connection stable… continuing.”

Issei shifted in his sleep, unaware of the mark that would soon change his fate in this world.

—---------------------------------------

Fuyuki City – Residential District
Yuuka and Misuki’s House – 7:30 A.M. (Four Days Until the Fourth Holy Grail War)

The winter light crept slowly through the thin curtains of the guest room, washing the tatami floor in a pale, cold glow. Outside, the faint calls of crows and the distant rumble of morning traffic drifted through the quiet residential neighborhood.

Issei, however, remained cocooned in the futon like a hibernating bear, his hair sticking out in all directions. A goofy, content smile played on his lips as he muttered something incoherent in his sleep.

“Master,” Sherri’s clear, composed voice came from the watch on his wrist, the glowing interface flickering faintly. “It’s time to wake up.”

Issei groaned and rolled onto his stomach, dragging the blanket over his head as if it could muffle her entirely. “Mmm… five more minutes…” he mumbled.

Sherri’s tone sharpened. “Master, Yuuka-san woke up half an hour ago.”

He shifted slightly but didn’t respond. His body was heavy, still recovering from yesterday’s chaos, and the scent of Yuuka’s shampoo clinging faintly to the futon wasn’t helping.

The AI paused, the glow on the watch dimming for a beat. “Master…” She said, her voice carrying the tiniest flicker of irritation.

He stayed silent.

“I warned you,” She said flatly.

A second later, the watch let out an ear-splitting BEEP-BEEP-BEEP that rattled the quiet house.

“GAHHH!” Issei shot upright like a spring-loaded toy, eyes wide, his heart hammering in his chest. In his panic he tried to scramble out of the futon, only to trip over it and tumble onto the floor with a loud thud.

“I’m up! I’m up!” he yelled, clutching his chest.

Ddraig then released a yawn that echoed in his head. (Awhh, what’s with all the noise this early, Partner?)

Issei glared at his wrist, hair wild. “Seriously, do you have to do this first thing in the morning?” He rubbed his sore elbow as he sat up. “I was having a good dream, you know…”

Sherri’s glow pulsed, her voice calm but brisk. “It’s morning, and it’s the perfect time to brief you on the new information I’ve gathered.”

Issei yawned so wide his jaw popped, scratching the back of his head. “Sherri, calm down. It can’t be that important.”

The AI’s tone dropped to something like mock offense. “Not important?”

“Yes, not important,” Issei muttered, waving a hand dismissively.

Sherri’s glow brightened. “Then look at the top of your right hand, Master.”

Frowning, he lifted his hand lazily, blinking at the sight. Across the back of his skin, crimson markings glowed faintly, three sharp, curling sigils that appeared to look like tattoos. They pulsed from time to time.

He stared at them blankly for a moment, his mind not yet awake enough to process. “Huh. That’s a kickass tattoo. What about it?” The room went quiet except for Sherri’s steady hum. A beat later, Issei’s eyes widened as realization finally caught up with him. “Wait—tattoo?!”

(That’s a sick tattoo, Partner. Where did you get it?) Ddraig sounded amused but also intrigued.

“I—when the hell did I get this?!” Issei scrambled to his feet, turning his hand over. “It wasn’t here yesterday!”

Sherri’s tone stayed even. “You acquired it last night while you were sleeping.”

Issei froze. “Did… did Yuuka give it to me?!”

“She didn’t,” Sherri replied flatly. “It appeared magically.”

Issei’s stomach dropped. “Magically?! What does that even mean—”

Sherri’s glow intensified slightly as she continued. “While you slept, I analyzed to understand why they suddenly appeared and I succeeded in creating a link through the rune. By doing so, I connected with this world’s Root, the foundational system of its reality, a CPU in your human terms. Navigating through it, I reached the Akasha Records—a complete database of recorded history, magecraft, and mystics accumulated throughout this world’s existence.”

Issei blinked. His mouth opened, closed, then opened again. “…You… what?”

“Basically,” Sherri said, her voice still precise, “I now know everything about this world. Why did it attack us when we arrived? What happened in specific times and places. Every mystic technique ever achieved. I have been upgraded from a universal device… to a Universal Mystic Code.”

The room was silent for a heartbeat except for Issei’s stunned breathing.

“Uh… so… you’re telling me,” he said slowly, “you hacked reality in your sleep and turned into a magic encyclopedia and now know everything about this world.”

“That is a crude but acceptable way to phrase it, Master.”

Issei stared wide-eyed at the glowing mark on his hand. His head was spinning with Sherri’s explanation, the words “Root,” “Akasha Records,” and “Universal Mystic Code” bouncing around in his brain like pinballs.

Then, with the kind of straight-faced seriousness only Hyoudou Issei could muster in such a moment, he asked.  “Everything, huh? Haha… alright then. What are the three measurements of Yuuka?”

There was the faint hum of the Watch processing, followed by Sherri’s calm, clinical reply. “Scanning: B:85 / W:57 / H:79.”

“Waaaaa!” Issei’s eyes bulged, his jaw nearly hitting the tatami floor. His face burned red as the numbers etched themselves into his brain forever. He then leaned in close to the watch, desperation shining in his eyes. “Quickly, Sherri! What color and type of panties and bra is she wearing right now?!”

Without a shred of hesitation, the AI responded. “She is currently wearing a matching set. Dark blue with white frills. It is, by your human standards… erotic.”

SQUIRT!

Blood sprayed from Issei’s nose like a fountain, splattering onto his futon. He clutched at his face, his body trembling like he’d just reached enlightenment. “This is great! Amazing! Incredible!” He gushed, trying to stem the crimson flow with his sleeve. “Sherri, you’re the best invention in all of existence!”

Ddraig’s booming voice cut in, laced with curiosity. (Hoh. You know everything, do you? Then answer me this, girl. Who is stronger: me, the mighty Ddraig, or that bastard Albion?) His tone carried the same weight as if he were demanding the meaning of life.

Sherri’s glow pulsed as she replied matter-of-factly. “I do not know with certainty, as that involves your world and not this one. However, in this world’s history, there also existed a Red Dragon named Ddraig with the same title. Records state he defeated the White Dragon, Albion.”

A stunned silence followed—before Ddraig erupted in laughter, his voice shaking the walls. (Bwa-ha-ha-ha! Yes! Suck it, Albion! Even in another world, I win! That proves I’m more superior, no matter the dimension!)

Issei wiped his nose and grinned, reaching down to pat the watch affectionately with his free hand. “Good job, Sherri. You’re the most awesome Sherri. Yes, you are. Best AI ever.” He rubbed the surface like he was petting a puppy.

(Yes, well done, Sherri. But remember this—no matter the question, the answer is always that I am stronger than Albion.)

Sherri’s voice softened, almost like a cat preening under attention. “Please… praise me more.”

The room was filled with a ridiculous chorus: Issei babbling praises, Ddraig boasting like a victorious king, and Sherri basking in validation. If any magus from the Association had walked in at that moment, seeing three idiots using the Akasha Records to learn bra colors and settle a dragon rivalry, they would have killed themselves on the spot. Twice.

Finally, Sherri’s voice shifted back to business, her glow steadying. “Now, the runes on your hand are called Command Seals. They are given to seven individuals to participate in a death tournament called the Holy Grail War, which will soon occur here in Fuyuki City.”

Issei froze, the blood dripping from his nose forgotten. “…What?!” He lurched to his feet, flailing his arms. “A death tournament?! Why the hell do I have to be in something like that?!” His voice cracked at the end, panic rising.

Sherri’s tone remained calm, almost soothing. “The Holy Grail War was created by three Magus families Tohsaka, Einzbern, and Makiri, through a ritual called Heaven’s Feel. Its purpose is to grant one person a rule-free wish by connecting them directly to the Root. To enter Akasha.”

Issei blinked furiously, his heart hammering. “So what? Why is that so important? You just said you hacked the Root in a single night!”

There was a pause. Then Ddraig muttered one word, dripping with disdain.  (Noobs.)

Sherri’s voice carried no hesitation as she explained further, the faint glow of the Watch casting a pale shimmer across Issei’s room.

“But they all knew this alliance would end the moment the ritual was created. None of the three families were willing to share a wish of such magnitude. So they devised a competition—the Holy Grail War. A ritual battle where seven chosen sorcerers summon Servants—heroic spirits from the past, legends given temporary bodies. These Servants fight to the death on behalf of their masters, and the last surviving pair earns the right to access the Grail. That Grail then grants one absolute wish.”

Issei’s hand twitched, the red sigils pulsing faintly on the back of it like they were mocking him. He scowled. “So basically…” He pointed at his hand like it had personally betrayed him. “…I got dragged into this because of my wish to become Harem King. Didn’t I?”

“Yes, Master,” Sherri confirmed calmly. “That desire was strong enough to resonate with the system. Combined with your unusually large mana reserves—five times that of a trained magus—you were selected.”

Issei groaned, flopping back onto the futon like a man struck down by the gods. “Damn right I’m unhappy! A dream’s supposed to be something you earn with your own two hands. It’s about working hard and not being handed to you like some cheat code. If all I needed was to rub a magic lamp, then… it doesn’t feel real.”

For once, Ddraig’s voice wasn’t mocking. The dragon’s tone was steady, filled with pride and agreement. (It’s understandable, Partner. If I knew I could slay Albion with a single wish, I’d reject it too. Where’s the satisfaction in that? Where’s the glory in proving my strength in battle? No—victory only means something if it’s won by your own power. Still…) His voice deepened with a rumble of excitement. (The chance to fight the heroes of the past, to test your strength against legends? That, Partner, is something even I find worth the risk.)

Issei blinked, sitting up slowly. His chest tightened—not with fear, but with the weight of expectation. ‘Heroes of the past, huh? Like knights, kings, warriors? People who actually changed history? And me… I’m supposed to stand against that?’ He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “There's no way out of this, is there?”

Sherri responded without pause. “There is. The War officially begins in four days. The dimensional portal is scheduled to activate in six. If you wish, you only need to survive the first two days before departing this world.”

Ddraig immediately roared, his voice echoing through Issei’s mind. (What?! I refuse! My Partner will not run away like a coward!)

Issei flinched, waving his hands frantically. “Oi, oi, I’m not saying I will! Just… just considering my options!” He took a deep breath and steadied himself. “…Okay. Here’s what we’ll do. We’ll survive the first two days, and then decide what happens from there. No promises. Deal?”

Ddraig growled but didn’t argue further. (Hmph. Fine. But if we run into any Servants, Partner, don’t hold back. You’ll see why this is a chance worth taking.)

Sherri’s glow pulsed, her tone brisk. “Then we should take immediate steps to prepare. The War rarely lasts more than a week. The first priority is to summon a Servant. With one at your side, your chances of survival will increase significantly.”

Issei clenched his fist, the Command Seals glowing faintly in response. A nervous grin spread across his face. “Alright… then let’s do this. Summoning a Servant, huh?” His grin faltered a second later. “…Uh, Sherri? How exactly do we do that?”

The AI’s voice carried the faintest amusement. “Do not worry, Master. I will handle the ritual’s logistics. All you need is a private space where no one will notice the summoning. The secrecy of this war is absolute. Should the supernatural be exposed to the mundane world, the consequences would be… fatal.”

Issei gulped, shivering slightly. “Fatal… as in…?”

“They erase all witnesses permanently,” Sherri clarified with calm bluntness.

Ddraig snorted. (Harsh. In our world, they just wipe memories. These Magi sound like overdramatic punks.)

Issei rubbed the back of his neck. “Alright… so rule one, don’t drag Yuuka or her mom into this. Got it.” He looked down at the glowing marks on his hand, his heart pounding faster. ‘Four days until the war starts. Six until the portal opens. Guess I don’t have much time to think about it. Just gotta move forward.’

Knock. Knock.

The sharp rap against the door made Issei jump, cutting short his spiraling thoughts about Servants and death tournaments. He quickly yanked the blanket over his glowing hand, like a kid hiding contraband from his mom.

“Issei-san, are you awake already?” Yuuka’s voice called from the hallway, muffled but gentle.

Issei scrambled to sit up properly, wiping the lingering traces of nosebleed from earlier off his sleeve. “Ahh, Yuuka-san! Y-yeah, I’m awake.” His voice cracked slightly, earning a faint snicker from Ddraig in the back of his mind.

“That’s good. Please come downstairs—breakfast is ready.”

The words hit Issei harder than any Command Seal could. ‘Breakfast… warm food again.’ His heart skipped, and for a moment, he forgot all about the Holy Grail War.

“Th-thank you!” he replied, a little too loudly.

He heard Yuuka’s soft footsteps retreating down the hall. Issei let out a long sigh of relief, running a hand through his messy hair. “Man… I’ve got one foot in a death tournament and the other in a house where a cute girl cooks me breakfast. My life is seriously messed up.”

(Welcome to being my Partner.) Ddraig rumbled, amused.

“Master,” Sherri chimed in evenly, “I repeat do not mention Command Seals, Servants, or the Root at the table. Yuuka-san is not prepared for such information. Not yet.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Issei muttered, standing up and tugging on his now-dry shirt and jeans. ‘Can’t exactly say ‘By the way, I’m in a murder tournament because I wished to be Harem King.’ She’d kick me out in a heartbeat.’

—-----------------------------------

A few minutes later, he made his way downstairs. The faint smell of miso soup and grilled fish wafted from the kitchen, warm and homely. Yuuka was already setting bowls on the table, her hair tied back in a simple ribbon, wearing a soft green sweater.

She glanced up as he entered, her expression softening just a fraction. “Good morning, Issei-san. Please, sit.”

Issei’s stomach growled loud enough to make him wince. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and plopped down at the table. “M-morning. And wow, this looks amazing.”

Yuuka’s cheeks colored faintly, but she tried to cover it with a small huff. “It’s nothing. Just eat before it gets cold.”

Issei grinned sheepishly, picking up his chopsticks. ‘A girl making me breakfast… this really is a dream.’ He shoveled rice into his mouth with the joy of a man starved for years, while across the table Yuuka watched quietly, her lips curving into a faint smile.

—---------------------------------------

With breakfast finished, the soft clinking of dishes replaced the sound of chopsticks. Steam still curled faintly from the empty bowls as Yuuka and Issei stood side by side at the sink, sleeves rolled up, rinsing and drying. The simple domesticity of it all felt almost surreal after the nightmarish events of the day before.

Yuuka’s movements were efficient and practiced, her blue short shorts and black leggings giving her a casual, youthful look. Over her small blouse she wore a tight green sweater intentionally or not, accentuating her figure whenever she reached for a plate.

Issei tried very hard not to stare, focusing instead on drying a cup with exaggerated care. ‘Okay, Issei, don’t be weird. She’s been through hell. Don’t ruin this by being a pervert right now. Just… dishes. Focus on the dishes.’

“Issei-san,” Yuuka said suddenly, her tone polite but softer than it had been last night. “What are you going to be doing today?”

He blinked, snapped out of his inner pep talk. “Oh, uh… I’m just going to walk around the city. Get myself familiar with the place.” He glanced at her curiously. “Why?”

Yuuka rinsed the last bowl, her fingers lingering under the water for a moment before she answered. “I wanted to know if I could join you. Maybe with my help, you’ll get familiar with it faster.”

Issei tilted his head, drying his hands on a towel. “Isn’t today Thursday? Don’t you have school to go to?”

“No.” She set the bowl gently into the drying rack and turned toward him, a faint, tired smile touching her lips. “I talked to the school. They said it’s fine if I take today off, considering what happened yesterday… and with Kaa-san being in the hospital.” Her smile grew more sincere. “That reminds me, we have to go to the hospital and visit her. She especially wants you to come.”

Issei blinked, warmth rising in his chest. “Alright. Thank you.” He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “I’d probably be living on the streets if it wasn’t for you.”

Yuuka looked down at her hands, her cheeks coloring faintly. “And I, along with Kaa-san, would be dead if it wasn’t for you. So…” She lifted her gaze, blue eyes meeting his with a mixture of shyness and resolve. “We both have something to be grateful for.”

For a heartbeat, neither of them moved. The weight of her words settled between them like something fragile and precious. Issei felt heat creep up his neck and a blush rise on his cheeks, Yuuka’s face mirrored his.

“Y-yeah…” He murmured, breaking eye contact with a nervous laugh. “Guess we do.”

Yuuka smiled faintly and turned back to the counter, finishing the last of the dishes.

A few minutes later, the two stepped outside. The crisp winter air greeted them as Yuuka locked the door behind her. The quiet residential street stretched out before them, the morning sun glinting off rooftops and power lines.

—-------------------------------------------------

Fuyuki City – 12:00 P.M.  Shopping District Café

The bustle of the shopping district carried on with mothers tugging their children by the hand, businessmen hurrying with briefcases, the chatter of students lingering by storefronts. 

Issei sat across from Yuuka, his hands resting on the table, though one of them was firmly clasped in hers. His cheeks still hadn’t lost their color from the morning, because Yuuka hadn’t let go once. She dragged him around all morning like it was the most natural thing in the world.

‘Harbor, park, school, arcade, aquarium, shopping center, movie theaters… this girl had an itinerary like she’d been planning it for weeks.’ Issei thought, his lips twitching into a sheepish grin. ‘Man, I was so tired yesterday, I didn’t even realize I crossed a freakin’ bridge. Shinto, Miyama… this place is bigger than I thought.’

Now they sat at a corner café close to Shinto’s hospital, resting after hours of walking. Their menus had already been taken, and the table between them was empty save for the little vase with a single flower.

Ddraig’s amused voice filled his mind like a chuckle rumbling deep in his chest. (My, my, Partner… this has turned into quite the nice date, hasn’t it?)

Issei blinked. ‘Yeah, it has—’ Then his brain screeched to a halt. ‘Wait. Wait! This isn’t a date!’

Sherri’s voice chimed in, calm as ever. ‘Statistically, yes, this is a date.’

Issei nearly choked on his own spit. ‘H-hold on! Don’t just say it so bluntly!’

Across from him, Yuuka tilted her head, her emerald eyes narrowing slightly in curiosity. “What’s wrong? You look… shocked.”

Issei froze, caught like a deer in headlights. His eyes widened, his jaw slackened. To Yuuka, it looked like he’d just realized something earth-shattering.

“I… uh…” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, words tumbling out before he could stop them. “Sorry. It just kinda occurred to me that this… feels like a date.”

Yuuka’s heart skipped, her grip on his hand tightening instinctively. Her cheeks burned, but she forced herself to stay composed. ‘Play it cool, Yuuka. Don’t scare him off. Just brush it off, say it’s only a little outing to open him up. Nice and simple. Don’t panic…’

Her lips curved into a confident smirk, her tone sharper than she intended. “Of course it is. Got a problem with that?”

Issei’s face went red so fast it looked like he might combust. He started waving his free hand frantically. “N-no, no! Not at all! I-I just wasn’t expecting… I mean, I didn’t realize…” His voice cracked at the end, panic written across his face.

Meanwhile Yuuka, though outwardly calm, was screaming inside her head. ‘Shit, shit, SHIT! I wasn’t supposed to admit it! What was that confidence act?! What am I doing?!’

Her palm was damp against his, her stomach twisting in knots. But when she dared to glance up, she saw Issei’s goofy, nervous grin, his eyes darting between her and the window. He looked so happy at knowing. And that realization made her own panic soften, replaced by a warmth.

Issei’s cheeks were red, his eyes darting between her and the table. “I’m happy you took me to one. It’s like a dream. It’s just… I’ve never been on one, and I always heard it’s supposed to be the guy who treats the girl, not the other way around.” His voice cracked at the end, soft and earnest.

Yuuka felt her breath catch. Heat bloomed across her face, her fingers tightening ever so slightly around his. ‘He’s happy… happy to be with me.’ The thought echoed through her head until everything else went fuzzy. Her heart beat so fast she was sure he could hear it.

“I’m glad,” she said softly, almost whispering at first, then finding her voice. “It makes me happy that you liked this… date.” Her lips curved in a shy smile as she looked down at her hands, trying to hide her blush.

On the other side of the table, Issei was in crisis mode. ‘What do I do now? I know I want to be Harem King, but I’ve never been on a date. Do I kiss her? Tell her I love her breasts? Compliment her hair? F-F-fuck her? Eroges have failed me! They haven’t prepared me for this situation!’ He swallowed hard, trying to smile without looking like a maniac.

Yuuka, meanwhile, was fighting her own storm of thoughts. ‘Okay, it worked out so far. He’s smiling. He’s happy. Might as well go all the way.’ She lifted her gaze, her expression turning serious.

“Tell me…” She said, her voice steady now despite the pounding in her chest. “Do you really want to be Harem King?”

The café noise dimmed around them, replaced by the sound of Issei’s heartbeat in his ears. He straightened instinctively. “Of course I will be Harem King,” He said without hesitation, his voice clear. But when he saw the way Yuuka’s eyes lowered, a flicker of worry crawled up his spine. ‘Did that repulse her? Did I just ruin everything?’

Yuuka stared at the table for a long moment. Then she exhaled, her eyes lifting to meet his again, filled with resolve. “Understood.” Her fingers tightened on his hand. “Issei… if that is what you want, I will accept it. But only if you always love me first.”

Issei’s heart jumped. “Really?” He blurted, leaning forward, excitement lighting up his face—then his stomach dropped as he remembered Sherri’s warning from that morning. “Wait. Sorry. I don’t think it would be a good idea…”

Yuuka’s eyes widened, her grip loosening. “Why not? Do you… not like me?” she asked softly, sadness creeping into her tone.

“It’s not that!” Issei said quickly, shaking his head. “It’s just… I have secrets. Big ones. And I’m worried you’ll get hurt. Also I worry that you're just doing this because I saved you and I don't want that. I didn’t save you because I wanted your body. I saved you because I wanted you to live.”

Yuuka’s face softened but her eyes glimmered with determination. “That’s fine. Because I know my feelings and I know that Issei will protect me.”

(Partner, this girl is stubborn. Just take her as your first mate. The rest we’ll settle later.) Ddraig’s voice rumbled in his head.

Sherri chimed in, even more matter-of-fact. “Master, from what I can calculate, Yuuka-san is interested and approves of your dream. Why not just accept?”

Issei stared at her, at the determination and trust shining in her eyes. The two voices inside him were right. He didn’t see the point in arguing anymore. He took a deep breath, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Alright. But I’ll tell you my secrets later… in private.”

Yuuka’s blush deepened but she nodded firmly. “Right.” Only then did she realize where they were—still sitting in a public café, people chatting around them. Her stomach flipped. ‘Oh no, we’ve been talking about this out loud…’ She quickly glanced around, relieved to see no one paying attention to the “cute couple” by the window.

Just then the waitress arrived with their orders, breaking the tension. She set down two steaming plates with a cheerful “Enjoy your meal,” oblivious to the emotional high-stakes conversation that had just happened.

Issei laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. Yuuka tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, trying to steady her heart. Together, they began to eat, each bite feeling strangely like a promise.

—-----------------------------------

Fuyuki City – Shinto Main Hospital  2:30 P.M.

The walk from the café had been lighthearted, their hands brushing until Yuuka finally held his without hesitation. By the time they reached the hospital entrance, the air between them felt easier and brighter with two people smiling without realizing they were.

The antiseptic smell hit Issei immediately as they stepped inside, the bright white walls and polished floors almost too clean. The sterile hum of fluorescent lights overhead reminded him he wasn’t here for something pleasant. Hospitals always felt like places caught between life and death.

Yuuka’s grip on his hand tightened as they walked down the corridor. “This way,” She said softly, pulling him along.

Inside the room, Hana Misuki sat propped up against a pile of pillows, wearing a pale hospital robe that concealed the bandages wrapped firmly around her midriff. She looked a little pale, but the sharpness in her eyes hadn’t dulled.

If Issei had been able to see the book lying on her lap before she quickly slid it under the blanket, his jaw would’ve dropped. On the cover in bold letters: “How To Get the Attention of a Younger Man.”

A knock at the door made her glance up. “It’s open,” She called, her voice carrying both warmth and authority.

The door creaked, and in came Yuuka—still holding Issei’s hand, pulling him in with her. Misuki’s brows rose slightly at the sight.

“Kaa-san, how are you?” Yuuka asked immediately, her voice tinged with worry.

“I’m feeling all better now,” Misuki replied with a smile, setting her book aside. “They even said I can leave today. I just needed someone to pick me up.”

“That’s great, Kaa-san,” Yuuka said, relief softening her shoulders. “I’ll call a taxi to take us home.”

She set her bag down and excused herself, leaving the room with quick, efficient steps.

And suddenly, it was just Issei and Misuki.

Issei rubbed his neck, feeling awkward in the sterile quiet. He shifted his weight, trying not to stare too hard at the older woman. “Um… should I wait outside, Mis—”

“Issei-kun,” she interrupted gently, her tone coaxing.

“Yes, ma’am?” He straightened reflexively.

“Please,” She said, a smile tugging at her lips, “call me Misuki.”

Issei’s heart skipped. He swallowed hard. “…Alright. Misuki-san,” he managed, the word stumbling clumsily out of his mouth.

Her smile widened slightly, pleased. She reached out, brushing her fingers against his cheek in a gesture so tender it made him freeze. Her eyes softened, warm and searching.

“Tell me… how was your day at our home?” She asked.

Issei blinked, his throat tightening. “It was nice. Really nice, actually. Thank you. I didn’t have a place to stay, and honestly, I was starving. So… really, thank you.”

“I won’t ask why a sixteen-year-old boy was wandering the streets with no destination,” Misuki said, her tone laced with both amusement and sadness. “For itt was because of that… that my daughter and I are alive today.”

Issei shifted uncomfortably. “Truly, thank you, but you don’t need to thank me for helping. My circumstances are… complicated. But what I did? It’s what anyone would’ve done.”

“Not anyone,” Misuki whispered.

Before he could react, she leaned forward and pulled him into her arms, pressing his face against her chest. The sudden softness enveloped him like a dream.

Issei’s eyes went wide. His mouth curled into his trademarked perverted grin. His brain shut down except for one loud, singular thought echoing like a victory anthem: OPPAI.

Her hand stroked the back of his head gently. “I doubt it was nothing,” Misuki murmured, her tone shifting into something huskier. “But Issei-kun as long as you’re under our roof, I’ll do whatever I can to make you comfortable.” The seductive tone in her words sent a jolt straight down his spine.

“R-right…” He stammered, every neuron in his head screaming don’t pop a boner in the hospital.

The door creaked open again.

Yuuka stepped inside. Her eyes immediately took in the scene—her mother hugging Issei’s head to her chest, his grin plastered across his face. The temperature in the room plummeted.

“WARNING. WARNING. Dangerous threat detected,” Sherri’s voice chimed urgently in his wrist.

“KAA-SAN.” Yuuka’s voice was sharp, cold, and more dangerous than any knife. Her blue eyes flashed, freezing Issei in place.

Issei practically whimpered inside. ‘Oh crap, I’m so dead.’

But Misuki only smiled sweetly, not loosening her hold on him. “Yuuka, calm down. Issei and I are just… bringing our relationship closer. Trying to understand one another.”

Yuuka’s eyes narrowed dangerously. Slowly, she turned her gaze onto Issei, her tone deceptively calm. “I see. Issei, why don’t you wait outside for the taxi?”

Issei froze, then scrambled up so fast he nearly tripped over the chair. “R-right! I-I’ll come back when it’s here. Ha-ha-ha…” His nervous laugh trailed off as he bolted for the door like a man escaping execution.

The air behind him stayed heavy, the tension between mother and daughter sharp enough to cut steel. The room was quiet again after Issei’s hurried exit. Only the low hum of the hospital’s heater and the faint murmur of voices from the hallway drifted through the door. Yuuka stayed where she was, her back straight but her eyes fixed on her mother, studying her every movement.

Misuki leaned back slightly on the pillows, calm as ever, her hands folded in her lap. The smile she wore was gentle but unreadable.

Yuuka’s fingers curled at her sides. “Kaa-san…” she began slowly, her voice soft but edged with tension. “Do you… have feelings for Issei?”

Misuki’s smile widened, and she tilted her head. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t.” The admission came easily, like she’d already accepted it long before saying it aloud.

Yuuka lowered her gaze to the floor, her bangs falling forward to shadow her eyes. “You know about my feelings, right?”

“Of course, sweetheart,” Misuki said, her voice warm and steady. “I’m sure we can work something out.” She gave Yuuka a knowing look, the kind that held both mischief and reassurance, telling her without words that she had her support.

Yuuka let out a shaky sigh, her shoulders slumping. “Haaa… I thought I’d have more time before this happened.”

“Time before what?” Misuki asked, genuinely curious.

Yuuka raised her eyes, her expression a mixture of frustration and embarrassment. “Kaa-san… Issei is very perverted, you know.”

Misuki chuckled softly, a sound halfway between fondness and amusement. “Yes, I know. Kind of hard not to notice. He keeps trying not to look at my breasts.” She added with a playful glint in her eye, “It makes me feel excited.”

Yuuka’s lips pursed in annoyance, her own smaller chest suddenly feeling like a slight. She crossed her arms. “Then did you also know,” She pressed, “that Issei dreams of getting a harem of women?”

Misuki blinked at that, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. But she only shrugged lightly. “It’s surprising, but I don’t know if that’s really something to be concerned about. Men… often fantasize about being surrounded by women.”

Yuuka took a deep breath, the words spilling out of her in a quiet rush. “I asked him if he was really serious about it and he said nothing would change it. So I asked myself… If I pursue him, will I be able to share his attention with other women? If I don’t, and stay just a friend, will I be able to handle the heartache as he gives his love and attention to others and never returns my love?”

She lifted her chin, Blue eyes bright with determination. “I chose the first. And I told him about it. You should have seen him. He was so happy I accepted his dream even if it was unfair to me. He also said this: ‘I didn’t save you because I wanted your body. I saved you because I wanted you to live.’” Her voice faltered for a moment, and she looked down again. “So that’s why I got frustrated when I saw you, Kaa-san. I thought I would have more time to prepare myself. But now I know I have to go on an all-out attack.”

Misuki’s eyes softened, understanding dawning as she listened to her daughter pour her heart out. “I see. So you think it will happen. He will get a harem?”

“Yes, Kaa-san,” Yuuka said quietly but firmly.

Misuki reached out, placing her hand over Yuuka’s. “Well,” she said with a small laugh, “we fell in love with a strange boy. But for some reason, I know we’ll both be happy. Also, remember…” Her voice turned serious, warm but steady. “We are in this together. So never think of me as a rival.”

Yuuka’s lips trembled into a small smile. “Yes,” she whispered.

The two of them leaned in, sharing a family hug, their arms wrapping around each other with a tenderness born from years of surviving side by side. For a moment, the smell of antiseptic and the white walls faded, replaced by the warmth of simply being alive and together.

Misuki pulled back slightly, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Now,” she said lightly, “tell me—how was your day living with him?”

Yuuka blushed, her fingers fidgeting. “Oh… you should have seen it. He has this sleeping habit where he grabs the nearest thing next to him and cuddles with it.”

Misuki’s smile turned teasing. “My, oh my… already in the same bed?”

Yuuka’s blush deepened, and she waved her hands frantically. “N-not like that! Just sleeping next to him makes me feel safer.”

Misuki chuckled again, leaning back into her pillows.

And so, the mother and daughter sat together in the hospital room, catching up quietly—two women bound by blood, by survival, and now by the same boy who had turned both their lives upside down.

—--------------------------------------------

Outside Shinto Main Hospital 

Cool air nipped at Issei’s cheeks as he leaned against the low stone planter in front of the hospital. The city moved around him with taxis sighing to a stop, nurses stepping out for a cigarette, a couple of elderly people shuffling past wrapped in scarves. For once he had a moment to breathe and his head immediately filled with a hundred absurd possibilities.

He rubbed his wrist where the Command Seals still glowed faintly under his skin and tried to tamp down the way his pulse picked up whenever he thought of Misuki’s hand on his cheek.

‘Guys, was that just me, or was Misuki-san coming on to me?’ He wondered out loud in his head.

“It appears to be so, Master. Hana-san is currently attempting to attract your attention.” Sherri spoke.

Issei’s grin went a little ridiculous. “If that means the harem plan’s a go… I could die happy right now.” He chuckled even as his stomach did a nervous flip. The absurdity of it made him want to laugh and puke at the same time.

(I do have a question: how are you going to make the relationship work when you live in two separate realities?) Ddraig asked more seriously now, the dragon’s boredom giving way to a practical curiosity.

Issei’s smile faltered. That was the sort of question that shoved the fantasy into a corner and asked for rent. He pressed his fingers to his temples and tried to think like a normal person. “Uh, that’s a… good question.” Suddenly the grin looked very thin. He felt the heat of responsibility press down on him; it was easier to joke about harem dreams than plan the logistics for them.

“Do not worry, Master. If you wish, we can bring anyone back with us to your world.” Sherri’s voice was crisp and a little too steady, which only made it sound more dangerous when she said sensible things.

Issei nearly choked. “R-really? You can do that?”

“Yes. It is possible. People can come with us when we travel between worlds.” Sherri’s glow blinked like a lighthouse. “However, there are complications and risks. Doing so may attract attention from forces on both sides of the portal.”

(That brings up another point. Are you going to tell them the truth?) Ddraig’s question came soft, probing.

Issei swallowed. The idea of telling Yuuka and Misuki that he’d been yanked into their world by a dimensional artifact, that he now wore Command Seals and would be fighting in a literal death tournament… It felt obscene. “ I think I have to tell them,” he said slowly. “If they don’t believe me, then later, when things get dangerous, they’ll be in the middle of it and I can’t do that to them.” His voice trembled on the last words. The thought of them getting hurt because of him tightened something in his chest.

“Is that wise?” Sherri’s tone was flat. “If they do not believe you and subsequently talk about the supernatural publicly, they risk being targeted by other magi. There will be individuals who seek to silence such witnesses permanently.”

Issei flinched. “Wow. Okay. That’s… terrifying.”

“But I may have a solution.” Sherri continued. “If they do not believe or if their involvement is too dangerous, we could perform a memory modification and remove their knowledge of us entirely.”

Issei went very still. The idea was ugly and clean at once. There was something final in it that set his teeth on edge. “Wipe their memories?” he echoed. “That sounds… harsh. But—”

(It’s not cruel if it keeps them safe,) Ddraig said bluntly, and for once the dragon sounded less theatrical and more like a guard at a gate. (You must keep in mind the scale of what you are walking into. The Magi of this world will not play fair.)

Issei licked his lips. He turned his hand over and watched the runes crawl faintly beneath his skin. ‘Right after we summon the Servant,’ He thought aloud. ‘We’ll tell them after that. If they freak out, if they can’t handle it… then we’ll worry about the memory wipe later. But I won’t erase them just because it’s inconvenient. Not if I can help it.’

“Understood.” Sherri’s glow dimmed a fraction, registering the decision.

Issei felt steadier already not because the problems vanished, but because he’d chosen a course. It was childish and dangerous and probably reckless, but it was his choice. He imagined standing at the center of a circle of women who’d chosen to be there, not because a wish had dragged them in but because they’d trusted him enough to come. The image warmed him like a beacon.

A car horn snapped him back into the present. Beep, beep! A yellow taxi eased into the drop-off lane, steam curling from its exhaust in the cold air. Issei’s pulse kicked up again.

“Cab’s here,” He muttered, scrambling to his feet to tell the girls.

—-------------------------------

At the doorway Yuuka and Misuki stepped out, yawning and laughing, Misuki still slightly pale, but had a mischievous glint in her eye. Yuuka’s hand squeezed his as she saw him, relief and something like pride flickering across her face.

“Issei!” She said, a small smile that made his chest want to do something stupid. “Sorry for taking so long.”

Misuki waved a hand languidly. “We’re ready. You didn’t get into trouble, did you?” Her eyes traveled to the faint glow on his wrist and lingered for a beat longer than polite.

He tried to play it casual. “No trouble. Just waiting for the cab.” His voice cracked on the last word.

Yuuka bobbed on her toes, tugging at his sleeve. “Thanks for waiting.” Her fingers were warm and real.

Issei’s grin returned, sheepish and fierce at the same time. “Of course. Can’t let my sponsors wait.” He blurted it before he thought and then winced internally at how cringe it sounded, but Yuuka giggled anyway, and Misuki’s soft chuckle followed.

Misuki slid in the backseat first. Yuuka climbed in after and Issei climbed into the back seat beside them, the space suddenly intimate. As the taxi pulled away and the hospital receded, Issei watched Fuyuki’s streets slide past, to the bridge he’d crossed the other day, the tiny arcades and the neon signs in the shopping district. 

—------------------------------

Miyama Residential District,  Fuyuki City, Hana Residence, 5:00 P.M.

“Home sweet home.” Misuki’s voice carried relief as she stepped through the doorway of her house, finally freed from the sterile confinement of the hospital. She slowly walked through the entryway and into the living room, her sharp eyes sweeping across every corner like a hawk checking its territory.

The place smelled faintly of disinfectant. The dent in the wall from where the killer’s body had slammed into it was still visible—a scar in the plaster—but the floor, once soaked in blood, had been scrubbed spotless.

Misuki exhaled a long sigh of satisfaction. “Good. Still standing. Only a few battle scars.”

Yuuka came in behind her, carefully supporting her mother even though Misuki waved her off, followed by Issei who shuffled in awkwardly, scratching his cheek.

“Kaa-san, the doctor said you shouldn’t strain yourself with work. You might undo the stitches,” Yuuka scolded gently, her brows furrowing as she set down her bag.

“It should be fine, Yuuka,” Issei added, holding up his hands. “As long as Misuki-san doesn’t try lifting anything heavy.”

Yuuka’s frown deepened. “But she should still be resting.”

“Bohh,” Misuki puffed her cheeks like a sulking child, folding her arms under her chest. “After staying in that hospital all day, I’ve had enough rest to last me a lifetime. I’m just glad I can be in my own home again.”

Yuuka put her hands on her hips, standing firm. “Still, I’ll cook tonight. You just take a bath.”

“Fine, fine,” Misuki conceded with a dramatic wave of her hand. But then her eyes sparkled mischievously, and she turned her gaze toward Issei. “Issei, would you mind helping me take a bath?” s}She asked, her voice dropping into a sultry tone.

The words hit Issei like a truck. His eyes went wide, his body locking up as a sudden squirt of blood shot from his nose. He clamped both hands over his face, his trademark grin spreading even as he staggered back. OPPAI. Bath. MILF. OPPAI! His mind was spiraling into blissful oblivion.

“Kaa-san!” Yuuka’s face exploded into crimson as she stomped her foot, glaring at her mother with a mix of outrage and embarrassment.

“I’d love to,” Issei croaked through his nosebleed, his voice nasally and muffled, “but I can’t right now.”

Misuki pouted theatrically, her lower lip jutting out. “Why not?” She whined, dragging out the syllables in mock disappointment.

Issei forced himself upright, one hand still pressed to his nose. “Because… I’m leaving to do some stuff,” He said vaguely, trying to sound mysterious but mostly coming off like a kid sneaking out past curfew.

Yuuka’s heart clenched. “What? Where are you going?” She asked, her worry obvious. Her eyes searched his face, looking for any hint that he might disappear on them.

“There are things I have to do in town,” Issei said, lowering his hand and giving her a reassuring grin. “Now that I’ve gotten familiar with the city, I think I won’t get lost.”

“Are you… coming back?” Yuuka’s voice trembled slightly, her hands clutching at the hem of her sweater. The question hung in the air heavier than she intended.

Issei blinked, then softened. He stepped forward, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “Of course I am. I’m not leaving the city. I’ll be back. I promise.”

Yuuka’s chest loosened a little at his words, though the knot of worry didn’t fully fade. Misuki, for once, remained silent, her eyes narrowing faintly as if trying to read something behind Issei’s grin.

Issei moved to the door, slipping his shoes on. But then he paused, turning back to face Yuuka. His gaze held hers steadily.

“Listen,” he said quietly, “when I get back, I’ll tell you all about my secrets. But just… don’t freak out on me for it, okay?”

Yuuka blinked, taken aback. “Wait—why would we freak out on you?”

Issei only smiled that nervous, goofy smile of his. “I’ll tell you when I get back.”

With that, he opened the door, the evening air spilling into the hallway, and stepped out into the fading light.

The house fell quiet again, save for the faint creak of the door swinging shut. Yuuka stared at the closed door, her lips pressed into a thin line. Misuki finally sighed, lowering herself into the couch with careful movements.

The two women shared a look—both different in age, both tied to the same boy—and in that silence, the worry they carried mirrored in each other’s eyes.

Finally done. Tell me what you think. People should really stop saying that Tamamo was first.