Budapest was alive.
In a way it hasn't been for years.
Thousands filled the streets, torches up against the night sky. Red, white, and green flags flew above the crowd, carried by a surge of voices that refused to quiet down.
At the center of it all, a young man with blond hair and a confident, almost effortless smirk moved through the masses—shaking hands, meeting eyes, owning the moment.
Péter Magyar.
The same man who, in another lifetime, shook the Hungarian establishment by exposing the pardon scandal tied to Katalin Novák.
Now, he stood atop an improvised podium, painted in the colors of the Tisza Party, facing a crowd ready to believe again.
"Thank you for believing it can be done! Thank you for believing we can change our fate! Thank you for believing that we—the Hungarian people—write our own history!
Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
His voice carried, screaming so high it echoed through the streets.
"Today, Hungarians said yes to Europe. Yes to a free Hungary. Yes to a government that represents them—one that puts this country in order. Because this…"
He paused, letting the tension build.
"…this is a Hungarian government!"
The response was immediate.
"Ria! Ria! Hungária!"
Flags raised higher, as if the city, and the country itself, was being carried into a new era.
Elsewhere, along the banks of the Danube, a group of young people laughed and shouted over one another as foreign reporters crowded in.
"Amazing, amazing!"
"We're so happy Orbán is finally gone!"
"We are glad to finally feel some sense of hope—," a boy tried to speak to the reporters.
"We changed the system!" the girls cut in, shouting over him, voices overlapping in excitement.
The scene shifted again—metro stairs, packed tight with young Hungarians chanting in rhythm:
"Russzkik haza! Russzkik haza!"
Russians, go home. An allusion to the close ties the Orbán government cultivated with Moscow.
In another part of the city, far from the celebration, the atmosphere was quieter.
Inside the headquarters of Fidesz, Viktor Orbán addressed the cameras.
Acknowledging the defeat, he pledged to continue—this time, from the opposition.
Outside, the city kept celebrating.
The dream lingered just enough to leave a bad aftertaste.
If it was another one of those prophetic flashes… then it looked like Magyar actually pulled it off.
Good for him, I guess.
Whether it was good for Hungary was another question entirely. At least for the Hungary I used to know.
Because this one?
This one had LaVey's shadow all over it.
______________
[Guangzhou — Haruka POV]
Nelu's frozen wings cut through the sky, launching us forward.
I'll admit it—I'm a Yuki-onna too, so yeah… I was a little jealous of Kokonoe-kun's Sacred Gear being a literal giant ice bird.
…Okay, maybe more than a little.
The air shifted as we descended, the cold turning into something warmer, heavier—humid, alive.
When Kokonoe-kun said he had a surprise, I didn't think much of it.
I definitely didn't expect this.
Guangzhou.
My hometown. The city I was born in.
Nelu touched down near the old bay area, frost hissing faintly against sun-warmed pavement.
The moment my sneakers hit the ground, it hit me.
The smells hit first—salt from the river, the sizzle of street food, something sweet I couldn't quite place.
Then came the noise—cars, shouting, horns, and that messy, alive mix of Cantonese and Mandarin that only existed here.
I hadn't been back since I was six.
And somehow… everything felt both familiar and completely foreign.
I turned to them, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear, forcing a grin that came out just a little too sharp.
"Welcome to Guangzhou, Kokonoe-kun, Suzuka," I said, voice lighter than I felt. "My hometown."
Kokonoe-kun frowned, glancing around.
"…Weird. I thought this was Canton."
I blinked.
Then I smacked his shoulder.
"Shut up, you dork."
Suzuka took her time, letting her gaze drift over the city. A small, gentle smile curved her lips.
"It's… magnifique," she murmured softly, almost to herself. "I've never been to China. It's… so different from what I imagined."
Her hand rested lightly on my shoulder, steady, quiet—like she was lending me courage without a word.
Of course, Kokonoe‑kun had to ruin the moment.
"It's more like Hong Kong than China," he muttered, flat and completely unbothered, like he was reading the weather report.
I raised an eyebrow at him.
"I know you're trying to sound smart, but you're just embarrassing yourself. This is Guangdong. Hong Kong is Hong Kong. Sure, we all speak Cantonese—but it was a British colony. Our histories aren't the same."
"That's like Bessarabia and Moldova—doesn't make Moldovans less Romanian," he countered.
"Oh, and by the way? China owes Tibet and Taiwan their independence."
I slammed my foot on the ground.
"Kokonoe‑kun… can you please stop being a smartass for one second?!"
He lit a cigarette, flicking ash on the pavement.
Then, as if the universe had it in for him, he walked… straight into a pole.
"Futuți morții mă-tii de stâlp," he muttered.
Then, he kicked down the pole.
I blinked.
Suzuka froze mid‑step.
"…Did you just—" she started.
Kokonoe‑kun cut her off, rubbing his forehead like he was the victim here.
"It attacked me first," he said flatly.
The pole — now lying at a pathetic angle on the sidewalk — disagreed silently.
I stared at him, then at the pole, then back at him.
"You can't just… commit vandalism because you lost a fight with gravity," I said, voice cracking between disbelief and the urge to laugh.
He shrugged, lighting another cigarette like this was a perfectly normal Tuesday.
"Gravity started it."
Suzuka pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation.
"Kokonoe‑kun… we're in public," she whispered.
"And?" he replied, dead serious.
I finally let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.
"…You're unbelievable."
He exhaled smoke, eyes still avoiding mine.
"You know what? Just… ignore me. I think the universe's had enough of my mouth for now."
Then he walked ahead, slipping his headphones on like the conversation never happened—but he didn't actually speed away.
Suzuka and I just blinked at each other. Then she sighed, the soft, resigned kind.
"…We should follow him," she murmured.
"Yeah," I said, though my voice came out thinner than I wanted.
We followed after him at a slower pace, the streets narrowing as the glass towers faded behind us.
The air changed too—thicker, warmer, alive with voices, clattering dishes, and the sharp, irresistible smell of street food.
He didn't stop walking, but he didn't lose us either. Just adjusted his pace like he'd accepted the tour whether he admitted it or not.
"Alright," I said, turning to Suzuka with a dramatic little sweep of my hand. "Welcome to the old town tour."
She blinked, then smiled softly, playing along.
I pointed ahead.
"See those? Traditional shophouses. Old Canton style. People still live above their stores—laundry out the window and everything."
A scooter zipped past. Someone shouted in Cantonese from a food stall, steam rising into the humid air.
I smirked a little.
"And over there—best roast duck you'll ever have. Trust me. I'd sell Kokonoe-kun for a portion."
That finally got a reaction.
He tilted his head slightly without fully turning around.
"Bold of you to assume anyone would accept that trade," he said flatly. "And I'm pretty sure I come with warranty issues anyway."
He adjusted his pace so he was walking with us now, not ahead of us.
"…Also, you're paying for your own duck."
Suzuka let out a soft laugh, eyes drifting over everything like she was trying to memorize the city all at once.
I grinned wider.
"Wow. He's participating in the tour. Mark this day in history."
And then—
Kokonoe-kun sighed like he'd finally accepted he couldn't win against me, stepped in closer, and without warning hooked an arm around my shoulders, pulling me lightly into his side.
He bent down and pressed a quick kiss to the top of my head.
My brain completely stopped.
For half a second I just froze there—heat shooting straight up my face so fast I thought it might actually be visible.
My mouth opened, closed again, and I made a very undignified sound that absolutely did not make it out properly.
What. Just. Happened.
He released me like it was nothing, already looking forward again.
"…Tu, nebuno, tu," he muttered, exasperated. "Știi că mor de tine."
I snapped back into motion way too late, immediately grabbing his sleeve before he could walk off properly.
"Oh no you don't," I said, voice way too bright, way too fast. "You don't get to do that and just walk away like a normal person."
I hooked my arm around his too now, clinging on like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"You're stuck with me for the whole tour," I added, grinning up at him, still way too warm in the face.
From the side, Suzuka let out a soft, amused chuckle—clearly enjoying this far too much.
I kept hold of his arm anyway, and he didn't shake me off. Just walked with us like it was now part of the plan.
We moved through the old Canton streets—tight alleys, food stalls, laundry hanging above us, scooters cutting through noise and steam.
Suzuka drifted ahead, quietly taking it in, while I filled the gaps when she paused.
Kokonoe-kun stayed mostly silent. Every so often, he'd make a dry observation, like he was mapping the place rather than just passing through it.
"You're actually paying attention," Suzuka said softly.
"I always am," he replied. "I just don't narrate it."
I tapped his arm. "That's basically the same thing."
"It isn't."
We reached the edge of the district without noticing. The noise softened slightly.
"…It feels alive," Suzuka murmured.
"Yeah," he said quietly.
A glance at his phone. "It's time."
The space shifted.
Kokonoe-kun's magic circle cut through the horizon.
I clung to his sleeve one last time.
"Hey… thanks for bringing me back, Kokonoe-kun. I mean it…," I said, my voice coming out weaker than I wanted.
He glanced down at me, that faint smirk already there.
"Yeah, yeah. Anytime, shawty!," he said, brushing it off.
Sound snapped away, streets folding into nothing. Suzuka's wind rose instinctively, I held on tighter, and then—
Japan returned in a blink.
_____________________
[Koneko POV]
Senpai came back.
Last night, he went straight into his room, collapsing more than entering it. He kept muttering something about being tired of Romania and Hungary.
Something about how things would've been easier if Russia had just annexed both of them.
I didn't really understand the political parts. I didn't need to.
Senpai says strange things when he's exhausted.
I just watched him for a moment longer than usual.
He looked tired. More than usual.
I didn't ask. Just stayed by his side, hoping it would be enough.
The next day, the clubroom was buzzing with energy.
Issei-senpai immediately started bragging.
"I swear, it was sooo hard! Tannin-sensei is actually evil—he made me run for hours without stopping!" he groaned dramatically, slumping into a chair like he'd survived a war.
Buchou smiled softly, clearly entertained more than concerned.
"Oh my, Issei… I had no idea it was that difficult for you," she said in her usual elegant tone.
Then, without missing a beat, she tilted her head and added, far too casually. "Perhaps I should name that training ground… Mt. Issei, to commemorate your struggle."
Ise-senpai froze. "Wait—Buchou that's not funny—!"
Akeno-senpai covered her mouth, shoulders shaking with quiet laughter. "Ufufu… Mt. Issei does have a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"
Asia-senpai clasped her hands. Concern all over her face. "Ise-san… are you alright? You look very tired…"
Xenovia-senpai leaned forward immediately. "So this Tannin is strong, yes? I wish to fight him next time."
Irina-senpai laughed beside her. "Oh, I would love to see that," she said cheerfully. "It sounds like it would be very educational!"
Kiba-senpai let out a small sigh, smiling faintly as he watched the chaos unfold. "It seems your training was productive, Issei."
Akeno-senpai leaned slightly toward Buchou, still amused. "Ara ara… our dear Ise-kun really does grow in the most interesting ways."
Buchou simply looked at him with that warm, indulgent expression she always uses. "You did well, Ise."
Ise-senpai instantly straightened up again. "R-Right! Of course I did!"
I said nothing.
I was watching without really focusing on anything.
Then the person I was thinking about walked in.
Senpai.
The atmosphere shifted quickly.
"Congrats on the Balance Breaker, Hyoudou," he said.
He shrugged and sat down next to me like it was normal.
Ise-senpai blinked. Then broke into an awkward grin.
"T-Thanks, Kokonoe! And uh… sorry about before," he said, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.
Senpai sighed, tiredness still on him.
"Eh… it was to be expected. One of the most Romanian outcomes possible," he said, like it didn't matter.
Like he hasn't come from literal war.
Hyoudou Issei frowned. "Romanian… outcome?"
Senpai didn't answer him.
"I believe he's referring to Romania's historical tendency to trade territory in exchange for survival," Buchou said smoothly, her tone calm but precise as she cut into the conversation.
"It's not your fault, Takashi. The vampires are simply… very particular when it comes to leadership among themselves."
Gya-kun nodded from inside his box, shoulders shaking a little.
"Y-Yeah… Mihai… th-the vampires are really… um… s-scary… a-and kind of… um… strict about things like that…" he stammered, pulling the lid a bit closer. "I-It's… really amazing you made it out…"
Senpai's gaze moved between them, then he let out a quiet sigh.
"They claim they're above humans, yet they repeat the same mistakes," he said flatly. "Give up land, keep the throne game going. Same stupidity, different century."
He dragged a hand through his hair, irritation showing through.
"Băgami-aș pula în ei de panarame," he muttered under his breath.
Akeno let out a soft laugh, clearly amused.
"Ara ara… such harsh language, Kokonoe-kun," she teased lightly. "You'll frighten poor Gasper."
Senpai rolled his eyes, not bothering to respond.
Xenovia-senpai stepped in without hesitation.
"Even so, your situation remains irregular. You destroyed your Evil Piece, stopped being a devil, and became a vampire. You really are an anomaly."
Irina-senpai nudged her side, smiling apologetically.
"Xenovia, that's a bit too direct," she said, before turning back with a bright expression. "But… it's true! It really is amazing, Mihai!"
He blinked.
"…Mihai?"
She fidgeted, clasping her hands together.
"W-well… it's the Romanian form of Michael-sama, so… um… I thought it would be more appropriate…" she said quickly. "P-please don't mind me calling you that!"
"Suit yourself," he said, shrugging. "I've been hearing this name a lot lately anyway…"
She gave him a small, warm smile.
Kiba-senpai bowed his head slightly, offering a polite smile.
"I wouldn't phrase it quite as bluntly as Xenovia-san," he said calmly, "but yes… your evolution is certainly fascinating, Kokonoe-kun."
Asia-senpai looked up, hands clasping together immediately.
"Then… um… I'll pray for Romania!" she said earnestly, closing her eyes. "That things will get better, and—"
Zap.
She flinched, letting out a small yelp as a spark of demonic backlash ran through her.
"Ah—!"
She opened her eyes, startled, rubbing her hands.
"I-I forgot… I can't do that anymore…"
Senpai let out a short laugh, warmer than before.
"You guys are something else," he said, shaking his head lightly.
A few of them laughed with him.
The door opened.
Azazel-sensei walked in, casual as ever—but his eyes went straight to Senpai.
"Yo, kid. You're gonna want to hear this," he said. "LaVey's making his move."
He didn't wait for a reply. Just grabbed the remote and turned on the TV.
The screen flickered to a news broadcast.
"Budapest, Hungary," the anchor's voice filled the room.
"50 deputies of the National Assembly have left Fidesz to join the opposition party MEP, led by far-right leader Gábor LaVey."
There are reports of a planned no-confidence vote aimed at toppling the government of Viktor Orbán and triggering snap elections. We will return with more information as the situation develops."
Senpai let out a quiet, heavy sigh.
"Yeah. Figures," he said. "Same trick Victor Ponta used to bring down the Băsescu–PDL government."
He dragged a hand down his face.
"Only difference is Ponta was a clown. LaVey's a clown with actual power—and a supernatural brainwashing machine."
Azazel-sensei scratched the back of his head, eyes half-lidded as he watched the news for a second longer than necessary.
"Yeah… that's one way to put it," he said lazily.
He tossed the remote back onto the table and leaned against the wall.
"Don't get me wrong, politics has always been dirty. Humans do that part just fine on their own. But in LaVey's case… this isn't just politics anymore. It's influence at a scale that starts bending free will."
He exhaled through his nose, annoyed more than afraid.
"And that's the part that pisses me off. Because once it reaches that level… it stops being about governments. And starts being about who gets to decide what people are allowed to want."
Senpai clenched his fists at his sides.
"Then… the only thing left to do is stop him," he muttered, voice low.
The words didn't land like a declaration.
They settled—slow, heavy, unavoidable.
Sensei didn't respond right away. Neither did anyone else.
The TV kept talking in the background, but it felt further away now.
Like something had already changed, and the room was only catching up.