As demon realm night deepened, the human realm simultaneously transitioned toward evening hours.
Itogami Island. Medical department director's office—subsidiary facility beneath the world-renowned MAR industrial magical complex.
Surgical-white illumination descended from ceiling fixtures, painting the chaotic disaster-zone desk below. Medical data documentation formed mountainous paper stacks, arranged with almost artistic sensibility—surrounding empty popsicle boxes, half-eaten pizza cartons, various consumption debris.
"Haaah~"
The office's previously-undisturbed silence shattered without warning. Two arms—wrapped in white lab coat sleeves—stretched upward from behind paper-mountain formations, belonging to a young woman.
The accompanying voice carried profound relief.
"Phew... finally completed everything. What time is it? Mm... already past eleven PM? At this hour..."
SLAM!
Words died mid-sentence, replaced by thunderous desk impact.
Previously-raised arms crashed downward. A face emerged from behind document fortifications—expression painting shock and disbelief in equal measure. Behind half-frame glasses, wine-red eyes identical to a certain Primogenitor girl's locked onto the computer screen's bottom-right corner with laser focus.
The woman appeared roughly twenty-something. Probably. Her features suggested college-age youth—messy brown-gray hair screaming "holiday hermit who abandoned grooming entirely." Yet simultaneously, her mature figure defied even the oversized lab coat's concealing properties—curves creating architectural impossibilities.
Visual assessment alone couldn't determine whether "girl" or "woman" applied more accurately.
Particularly her chest proportions—so excessive that the lab coat (nearly her full height, theoretically adequate sizing) couldn't close over her bust. Buttons surrendered. She'd simply left it open.
The work ID dangling before her—suspended far from her abdomen due to chest elevation—displayed her position and name:
MAR Medical Department Director—Mimori Akatsuki
She maintained desk-bracing posture for thirty solid seconds before gradually processing reality, stepping backward, straightening.
Then both hands plunged into her voluminous hair while self-doubt manifested verbally.
"Wait... why does it say September? Did my computer's date synchronization malfunction?"
Mimori's lips moved mechanically, cycling through those two questions repeatedly.
According to my memory, I recently visited Saikai Academy specifically for Nagisa's semester finals—bringing her home after vacation started. Following that, since it was summer break, I felt comfortable spending extended time in the lab.
Two weeks maximum! Couldn't possibly be longer!
Thus, Mimori's mental calendar remained stubbornly anchored to August. September? Impossible.
Yet no matter how many times she reset computer dates, cross-referenced her phone's calendar after charging—reality insisted uniformly: September. Late September. Nearly a month post-vacation, well into second semester.
Translation: her "taking advantage of Nagisa's vacation to responsibly extend lab time" had actually consumed over two solid months.
"Uh... how did this happen..."
Twenty minutes of verification later, Mimori finally collapsed back into her desk chair, forced to accept empirical truth.
She'd genuinely sequestered herself in this laboratory for two months without returning home once.
Unprecedented absence record.
Historically, while rarely home—spending six-and-a-half days weekly in laboratory environments—she'd occasionally carved out half-days for home visits.
But two full months... catastrophic.
Though since it happened, it happened. No reversing temporal flow.
After confirming the date's accuracy, Mimori achieved light-speed acceptance before retrieving her freshly-charged phone—checking messages.
Zero new notifications. Zero missed calls.
No news is good news, as the saying went. Mimori understood her daughter's self-sufficiency capabilities intimately.
Other matters aside, Nagisa vastly exceeded her thirty-something mother—who subsisted exclusively on frozen pizza, kitchen annihilator extraordinaire. The girl could cook competently, maintain household organization flawlessly.
Since two months passed without emergency contact attempts, logic suggested Nagisa had been managing perfectly fine independently.
That realization loosened the tension knotting Mimori's chest considerably.
Though having been absent this long, even with Nagisa certainly managing excellently, she couldn't maintain complete parental negligence indefinitely.
Needed scheduling a home visit. Tomorrow, perhaps?
Mimori checked the date again. Saturday currently. Tomorrow: Sunday. Nagisa would likely be home.
Perfect. Decision made!
Mental plans solidified for tomorrow's return visit, Mimori lifted her phone—preparing to call ahead.
Except after opening contacts, she lowered the device again.
Mm... actually, unnecessary.
Sunday meant guaranteed home presence. She could stop by the shopping center for prepared foods en route, execute surprise homecoming—maximum impact.
Mimori's internal monologue concluded smugly.
❁❁❁❁
Time advanced—next day arriving.
Morning. Demon realm Lilith, palace hotel interior.
Bokue plus Rias's assembled entourage clustered in the first-floor lobby like tourists concluding sightseeing, preparing departure—boisterous congregation dominating central space.
Except... Lady Sheila was absent.
"Eh? Mom, you're not returning with us?"
Learning her mother wouldn't accompany their departure, Maria voiced confused inquiry.
"Not 'not returning'—just not traveling together," Sheila corrected with mysterious smile, waving dismissively.
"Because Mom needs collecting someone first. You know her too, Maria. As for specific identity—you'll discover after my return. Consider it... a surprise~♡"
Surprise?
The nightmare girl processed this with obvious bewilderment. Though since her mother insisted, she nodded acceptance.
But what surprise exactly?
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