The atmosphere was still calm at the hot spring. Thin steam rose from the pool's surface, carrying the warm scent of sulfur mixed with the fragrance of surrounding bamboo. The water was slightly cloudy greenish due to mineral content.
Tobio closed his eyes. His head rested on a smooth stone at the edge of the pool, his wet black hair sticking to his forehead. Hot water soaked his body up to his neck, feeling like it enveloped every pore, making the tense muscles of the past week slowly release their tension.
The morning sunlight had not yet appeared. The sky above was still dark blue with a purple tinge, with stars beginning to fade one by one. Only a thin orange line on the eastern horizon signaled that dawn would soon arrive.
Tobio opened his eyes. In the distance, beyond the towering bamboo trees, he could see the dark silhouette of Mount Hiei.
He was thirteen years old.
'If I'm thirteen now, then Akeno is still around ten years old.'
He recalled memories of Akeno Himejima—the half-Fallen Angel, half-Devil girl who would later become a mixed-race being, the queen of Rias Gremory. In the future he knew, Akeno would lose her mother as a child.
'Is her mother still alive now? Or already gone?'
Tobio didn't know. His knowledge of the DxD timeline wasn't that detailed. What he knew were only large fragments: Rizevim, Trihexa, the war between races, and an uncertain end.
Then his thoughts shifted to something else.
His grandmother's message. The voice recording in that crystal still echoed in his head: You were expelled from the Himejima Clan. Grandma raised you. Don't hold any grudge.
But his last name was Ikuse, not Himejima.
Why?
Was it because he was expelled and thus the clan name was revoked? Or was there another, deeper reason—something even his grandmother didn't want to talk about?
Tobio sighed. The steam from his mouth mixed with the steam from the pool, becoming one.
'Will I push further to change the storyline? Or let everything proceed as I know—let Akeno become Rias Gremory's pawn, let history repeat as I've seen?'
He had no answer. Not now.
The sliding door opened with a soft sound of wood rubbing.
Tobio didn't turn. He already knew who was coming from the footsteps—not hurried, not heavy, but also not trying to hide. The steps of someone confident, someone accustomed to this place.
"You're awake, apparently," said Dulio as he stepped in. His blond hair was slightly messy, perhaps just woken up. His green eyes squinted against the morning light beginning to enter. "We were worried about you for a week."
Dulio removed the towel from his shoulder and stepped toward the pool. Hot water greeted his body with a soft hiss as he submerged himself beside Tobio—about a meter away, not too close, not too far.
Tobio was still staring at the sky. "I was just sleeping. My body hurt a little when I woke up, but now I feel fresher."
Dulio nodded. He let himself soak for a moment, feeling the warmth spread from his toes to the top of his head. Then he turned to Tobio.
"You know, you're not like most children." His tone was casual, but there was a serious note lurking beneath. "Right now, I feel like you're like an adult."
Tobio wasn't surprised by the statement. "Maybe my way of thinking is too mature too quickly."
Dulio didn't argue. They both fell silent, only the sound of water moving slowly and occasional bird calls from a distance filling the silence.
Sunlight began to illuminate Kyoto. The first rays pierced through the bamboo gaps, creating golden patterns on the pool's surface.
Tobio stood up. Water flowed from his body, creating small ripples on the pool's surface.
"I'm going now. It's time for breakfast—I'm hungry."
Dulio nodded, but his eyes lingered on Tobio's body. Not for any strange reason, but because of something nagging at his mind.
The boy's body was not like most children his age. Too fit. Too proportional.
His muscles weren't bulging like a bodybuilder's, but they looked solid, efficient, like the body of a young athlete who had trained for years. Yet Dulio had never seen Tobio exercise. All he had seen was Tobio sleeping, Tobio eating, Tobio walking, and Tobio fainting.
"Do you exercise sometimes?" asked Dulio, trying to keep his tone casual. "Even though you're always sleeping, your body always looks like that."
Tobio didn't turn. His hand reached for the white towel in the bamboo basket, beginning to dry his wet hair.
"Because of my power. I force outcomes." His voice was flat, like explaining something very ordinary.
"Back then I wanted to have a healthy body and be able to lift 15 kilograms. The next morning it happened immediately. Even though it hurt—all my muscles felt like they were being squeezed. My grandmother massaged my body so the pain would go away quickly."
He stepped out of the pool area, a towel wrapped around his waist.
"Well then, I'm going now."
The sliding door closed behind him.
Dulio remained silent in the pool. The hot water that a moment ago felt comfortable now seemed meaningless.
He considered it normal. He explained it casually, as if nothing was wrong.
"Telos Karma," Dulio murmured softly. "Not only affects the world... but also its user."
He looked down, staring at the rippling water surface. His own reflection was reflected there, distorted by steam and morning light.
No natural limits. No normal process. Only forced outcomes.
'If he keeps this up... his body could break. His soul cracks further. He could even... lose his human limits entirely.'
Dulio closed his eyes. In his heart, he prayed—not a formal angel's prayer, but a simple prayer of a friend.
'Please, don't let him break before his time.'
---
Tobio entered his room. The air inside was still cold, with a faint scent of wood and incense. On the low table, he saw a piece of paper and a green ceramic cup.
He took the paper. The writing on it was neat, with beautifully flowing letters—perhaps written by Yasaka, or one of her servants.
"Herbal tea to restore energy. Brew with hot water, drink while warm."
Tobio held the cup. The tea inside was already cold—perhaps left for hours, perhaps since yesterday. But he drank it anyway. Cold, slightly bitter, with a lingering sweetness from the herbs dissolved within.
He placed the empty cup on the table, then walked to the window. Opened it. The cold morning wind greeted his face, making his still half-wet hair flutter.
Tobio stared at the sky.
"I only have outcome-forcing power. No magic. No system. I can only force my will upon the world, but with a price I have to pay."
He remembered his eyes. The side effect of the desire to see souls, energy flow, and dimensions. It was supposed to be a desire he intended only once, but the effect kept him "seeing" permanently.
A reckless action. Now he had to live with the consequences.
He sighed. Then a desire emerged. Not an ordinary desire—but a deep desire, one that felt different from just "I want". This was a wish he directed at his Sacred Gear, which he still didn't fully understand.
"When I enter high school later," Tobio whispered, his eyes still fixed on the sky, "I want to be able to lift 100 kilograms. A perfect body like a professional athlete. And..." He paused briefly. "To become handsome."
He opened his eyes wide, as if just realizing what he had just said.
"Hopefully the side effects won't be as bad as my eyes."
He thought for a moment. "I'll have to exercise too, to speed up the process."
The bedroom door opened.
Griselda stood at the threshold in her neat pale black nun's robes. Her golden-blond hair was perfectly combed, not a single strand out of place. Her blue eyes looked at Tobio with an expression difficult to read—between relief, worry, and curiosity.
"Are you well? Any pain?"
Tobio shook his head. "No. I'm better now."
Griselda observed him for a moment. His breathing was steady. His face wasn't pale—at least not as pale as before. His eyes—full of stars and cracks—didn't look painful.
But Tobio was always calm. Even when in pain, he would probably remain calm.
"It's time for breakfast," said Griselda.
Tobio nodded. "Alright. Wait a few minutes—I need some preparation and to tidy the room."
Griselda nodded, then turned and left. Her footsteps faded on the wooden hallway.
The door closed.
Tobio crouched on the floor—then was forced to kneel, then almost lay down on the tatami. Pain suddenly struck from within his body, as if invisible hands were squeezing his muscles from the inside. Not ordinary soreness.
This was like after extreme exercise, when muscles never used before are suddenly forced to work. But faster, more intense, more... unnatural.
'Side effects happening immediately?' he thought, enduring the pain spreading from his stomach to his waist, from his waist to his thighs. 'Isn't it supposed to be later?'
He clenched his fists. His jaw tightened. He didn't scream—only breathed faster, deeper.
One minute.
After one minute, the pain disappeared. As if it had never existed. Tobio held his stomach, pressing gently. No pain. He pinched his waist—the place that had felt like it was being squeezed earlier. No reaction. His muscles felt normal, as if nothing had happened.
He stood up.
This incident would keep repeating. Until high school later.
Tobio sighed, then began tidying the room. The futon folded, blanket arranged, pillow placed neatly in the corner. His movements were slow but precise—a habit taught by his grandmother since childhood.
Finished. He walked to the door.
In the hallway, a youkai servant was already waiting. The woman in simple clothing bowed respectfully, then walked ahead, escorting Tobio to the dining room.
The breakfast table in the shrine's main dining room looked like a feast for a king.
White rice steamed in black ceramic bowls. Miso soup with tofu and wakame, its steam still rising thinly. Grilled mackerel with crispy browned skin.
Tamagoyaki—golden-yellow rolled omelet, cut neatly like cake. Shrimp and vegetable tempura with fragrant dipping sauce. Salad with sesame dressing. Tsukemono—cucumber and radish pickles. And in the center of the table, a large bowl of tofu soup still gently simmering.
Tobio swallowed.
He hadn't eaten such delicious food in a long time. In the village, simple meals—rice, miso soup, grilled fish, sometimes boiled vegetables. Even then, sometimes he didn't get to eat because he fainted or was too tired to get up. And now, after sleeping a full week, his stomach was truly empty.
Yasaka, seated at the head of the table, smiled. Usually Tobio's face was flat and hard to read—like a wooden mask that never cracked.
But now, for the first time, Yasaka saw an honest reaction from the boy. Eyes slightly widened. Lips slightly parted.
"Fufu~" Yasaka laughed softly, her voice like a small bell vibrating gently. "If you're hungry, just eat. No need to hold back."
Dulio, sitting on the other side of the table, leaned back in his chair with the relaxed smile that had become his trademark. "Looks like someone is very hungry."
Griselda didn't comment. She simply picked up her spoon and began taking rice into her bowl—setting an example that it was time to eat.
Xenovia was silent. Her brown eyes occasionally looked at Tobio, then shifted to her food, then back to Tobio.
She wanted to ask—about why Tobio slept for a week, about what really happened to that boy, about why he seemed fine when clearly something was wrong. But she held back. Later. When the time was right.
Tobio turned to the side. In the chair beside Yasaka, a little girl sat in a very upright position. Her light blonde hair, like freshly cut wheat, was tied with a small red ribbon on the side. Her eyes were golden-yellow—just like Yasaka's—but larger, rounder, with a gleam of innocence that couldn't be faked.
In her lap, she held a small rabbit doll, her tiny fingers gripping the doll's ears tightly.
She was Kunou. Tobio already knew her name from his memories. But seeing her in person was different.
"Kunou," said Yasaka gently. "My daughter. Age four."
Tobio bowed his head slightly—polite enough, not excessive. "Tobio Ikuse. Age thirteen. Human." He paused briefly, then added, "I hope I don't scare you."
Kunou was startled. Her golden-yellow eyes rounded as she saw Tobio's eyes—a small galaxy moving slowly, a vertical black crack in the pupil. Not frightening eyes, but... strange eyes. Like seeing the night sky on someone's face.
She couldn't speak. Her free hand—the one not holding the doll—lifted slightly, then waved. A small wave, almost invisible. Then her hand lowered again, and she hid behind her rabbit doll.
Tobio wasn't offended. He just nodded slightly.
"Itadakimasu."
He took the shrimp tempura first—a large shrimp fried in thin, crispy batter. He bit into it. The crunch sound was clear in the silent room. The shrimp meat was sweet, springy, with a slight saltiness from the dipping sauce.
He took rice. A little miso soup. Salad. Tamagoyaki. Each bite was eaten slowly—not because he lacked appetite, but because he wanted to savor every flavor. His tongue, which during his illness had only tasted porridge and simple food, was now indulged with an explosion of flavor that almost made him want to cry.
Xenovia ate quietly, as usual. Griselda ate politely, occasionally putting rice into her mouth with measured movements. Dulio ate casually, occasionally interjecting with light comments about the taste of the miso soup or the crispiness of the tempura.
Yasaka occasionally fed Kunou—a little rice, a little vegetable, small pieces of fish already deboned. Kunou ate obediently, her eyes still occasionally peeking at Tobio from behind her doll.
The atmosphere was warm. Simple. Human.
---
In a region of Kyoto, hidden among the mountains, stood houses in an ancient style. This was the territory of the Himejima Clan—one of the oldest exorcist clans in Japan.
In the innermost room, an old man sat on tatami in a perfect cross-legged position. His hair was white, his beard long and well-kept, his eyes black.
Suou Himejima. Clan elder. The supreme leader of a family whose name was respected—and feared.
Before him, an observer knelt with head bowed. His black clothes almost blended with the shadows in the corner of the room.
"Report," said Suou, his voice deep and calm.
The observer spoke in a low, quick, efficient voice. "Two church members entered Kyoto—one male, one female. One small girl, an Exorcist. And one more..." He paused briefly. "A boy. Black hair. Strange eyes—like there's night in his eyes."
Suou didn't move. No twitch in his white eyebrows, no change in his black eyes.
"Tobio Ikuse."
Not a question. The observer nodded. "We obtained an image. It's him."
Suou closed his eyes.
Tobio Ikuse. The child who was expelled from the clan along with his grandmother, Ageha. Expelled because of something unspeakable—something even the clan elders were reluctant to discuss.
Now he had returned. Not to the clan, but to Kyoto. With the church. Under Yasaka's protection.
"Just observe him," Suou said finally, his voice unchanged—calm. "They are currently at Yasaka's shrine. If necessary... invite him."
He opened his eyes.
"Not to interrogate him. Just to confirm something."
The observer lifted his face briefly, asking without words.
"He has changed," said Suou, as if that sufficed to explain everything. "I want to know what he has become."
The observer bowed again. "Understood."
He stood up, turned, and disappeared into the shadows.
Suou remained seated in his place. His black eyes stared at the wall.
Was this a coincidence?
He was still hunting Akeno—the granddaughter of that stubborn Barakiel, the illegitimate child whose blood was already tainted by a Fallen Angel.
But now Tobio appeared. The child who was expelled, having the raging Sacred Gear Canis Lykaon, that was a secret that shouldn't even be thought about.
And Tobio was now under the church's watch.
Too many coincidences.
Suou closed his eyes again. In the silent room, only the sound of incense burning slowly and the wind whispering through the gaps in the walls.
'We'll see later, Tobio Ikuse. What are you looking for in Kyoto? And why have you returned to the world that once expelled you?'
He wouldn't get an answer this morning. But Suou was a patient man. He could wait.