Eating Your Weight: Courtesy Call

As my new houseguest got settled in, I decided that it was probably better to talk to the local management sooner rather than later. Before they found out about my new houseguest on their own and took issue with my decision.

That was why I walked through the school gates at the buttcrack of dawn, well before any of my peers would arrive. A few teachers were lingering around, clutching papers or coffees as they got ready to start their day, but I bypassed them and the main entrance entirely as I headed up the nearby stairs towards the Student Council room.

Sona was already inside, as I suspected she would be. She seemed to take her role here at school very seriously. A real model student. If she was human, I wouldn’t be surprised if she became the dean of some prodigious academy one day, or at least a principal.

​I stepped inside. The room was quiet, the only sound was the scratching of a fountain pen against paper. Sona was already buried in work, staring down at a mountainous stack of papers, her glasses perched precariously on the bridge of her nose. Tsubaki was nowhere to be seen, leaving her alone to contend with the work until her Queen arrived.

The girl didn’t look up immediately, though her eyes glanced towards me for a flickering moment before they returned to her work. “You’re early, Naomi. To what do I owe the pleasure? I don’t suppose you’ve decided to make up for your missed attendance with a few hours of community service?”

​“Not exactly,” I said, taking a seat across from her without being asked. “I’m just here to give you a heads up. I’ve got a new houseguest. One that you might not really appreciate me putting up for a few days.”

​The pen stopped. Sona looked up, her violet eyes narrowing behind her lenses. “Would you care to elaborate on that?”

I gave her a quick rundown of the situation. She put her pen down completely and removed her glasses, massaging the bridge of her nose as if she was trying to drive off an encroaching headache.

“You saved an agent of the Grigori,” Sona said, her voice flat and dripping with disbelief. “An agent who was part of the group that abducted a member of the Church and attempted to assassinate a member of Rias’s peerage. Do you have any idea how that looks, Naomi?”

​“Like I have a bleeding heart?” I suggested, leaning back and crossing my arms. “Look, she was dying. I’m not saying she’s a saint, but I’m not exactly thrilled about the idea of just watching someone bleed out when I can do something about it.”

​Sona sighed, a long, weary sound that made me feel a little bad for adding to her workload. She cleaned her glasses with a cloth from her desk, her expression unreadable. “You are truly a piece of work. Most people in this town are trying to avoid another supernatural war, and here you are, picking up strays from the battlefield.”

​“It’s a personality flaw, I know,” I replied with a smirk.

​“It is annoying,” Sona corrected, her eyes snapping back to mine as she slid her glasses back into place. “However, I suppose I shouldn't be entirely surprised. You’ve proven to be an unconventional ally, and honestly, it's not like I have the authority to tell you who you can or cannot have in your own home, even if I'd rather you didn't harbor.”

​She leaned forward, her violet eyes serious. “But Rias won't be as easy to talk down as I am. That Fallen Angel has already proven herself a threat to her peerage. She will have a problem with this.”

​“I’ll deal with Rias,” I said, my tone sharpening just a bit. “If she wants to make a thing out of it, we’ll talk, but I'm not changing my mind on this.”

​Sona stared at me for a few heartbeats before nodding slowly. “You have shown yourself to be responsible enough to handle your own affairs thus far, so I'll hesitantly leave this in your hands. Just ensure that she stays on your property. That group was already attacking people in the streets, Devil or no. I don't imagine she'll care much about keeping the peace.”

~~~

​I managed to make it through my first two periods without incident, though my mind was elsewhere. Mittelt seemed like the arrogant type; her head was so far up her own ass that she could probably eat the same meal twice, but Miyo wasn’t the type to take any sort of backtalk when it came to people actually doing what they were told and she was definitely stronger than the Fallen Angel.

I wonder if she’ll make her scrub the baseboards with a toothbrush. I thought, staring off into space in the middle of my History teacher’s lecture.

My peaceful musing didn’t last however. Halfway through said lecture, a soft knock on the classroom door interrupted the teacher’s droning. The door slid open with a soft clack, revealing a small, white-haired girl with an utterly bored expression on her face.

“Excuse me,” her voice was a dull monotone as her eyes scanned the class, quickly landing on me. She pointed, “Rias asked me to come get her.”

The teacher followed her finger and blinked as she saw. “Miss Kanei? I didn’t realize that she was involved with your club.”

“I’m helping them out with something,” I said, and that seemed to be enough to convince the woman.

“Well, since there’s only a few minutes of class left, I suppose you’re free to go, Miss Kanei. Just make sure you make it to your next class on time. Don’t be tardy.”

Nodding, I gathered my stuff and followed Koneko. She eyed me as I approached before turning and leading the way back into the hall without a word.

“I’m guessing this has to do with my guest,” I asked Koneko’s back. She nodded but didn’t speak. “Rias is mad, isn’t she?”

“Akeno is worse,” she replied shortly.

I frowned in confusion but didn’t comment. The rest of the journey was made in silence.

We reached the Old Schoolhouse, and the air inside was thick enough to choke on. The moment I stepped into the clubroom, I felt the weight of several hostile gazes on me. Everyone was here. Rias was sitting behind her desk, Kiba was standing by the window, and Issei was sitting on the couch, giving me a fearful look.

There was also another member of the troupe, a girl I didn't recognize sitting on the same couch as Issei. She had long, silky blonde hair and a timid expression on her face, like she wasn't really sure how to feel about me or even being in the room at all. She was wearing a sundress and had her hands clasped over each other in her lap, practically radiating an aura of innocence that certainly didn't belong in a den of Devils.

I inhaled. Ah. Or maybe she does. How did a cutie like her fall to the dark side?

Judging by the way she shifted a bit closer to Issei as my eyes passed over her, I had a feeling I knew the answer already.

Akeno was also present, and it was her who drew my attention. She was standing next to Rias, her usual playful aura replaced by something cold and jagged. She wasn’t quite glaring at me, but it was a near thing. Something had made her unhappy.

“Naomi,” Rias said, her voice tight. “Care to explain why Sona Sitri just informed me that you are harboring a fugitive Fallen Angel in your home?”

I shrugged as Koneko closed the door behind us, moving to sit on the other couch. “Yeah, it seems like you missed one. I found her dying in an alley a few blocks away from the church.”

“You should have left her there,” Akeno said, making me blink at her tone. “It would have been less trouble for everyone.”

“Uh, what?”

“That's enough, Akeno,” Rias gave her Queen a mollifying look. “but she is somewhat correct. That woman is an enemy. Why would you go through the trouble of reviving her?”

I shrugged. “What can I say? I'm a sucker for a cute face. She looked so pathetic, whimpering and crying and all that shit. I couldn't just leave her there to die.”

Rias brought a hand up to her brow. “While normally I would commend you for your kindness, that woman is not innocent. She was complicit in killing both Issei and Asia!”

At the name, the blonde on the couch seemed to shrink in on herself even further. I glanced her way and she avoided my eyes. I frowned.

“Well if I had known that, I probably wouldn't have helped her,” I sighed, scratching my head. “But as it stands now, she's alive and I'm not just gonna kill her after telling her she was safe to stay at my place.”

“You could always bring her here,” Akeno said with a sweet smile on her face. “I'd be more than happy to take care of her myself.”

“I’m sure you would,” I said slowly. I didn't need to be a mind reader to know Akeno’s version of ‘taking care’ of someone involved a lot of screaming and very little actual care. I didn't know why she had such a massive stick up her ass about Mittelt but something told me there was more going on there than just friendly concern. 

Rias didn't look much happier. She leaned forward, her face a mask of seriousness. “Naomi, I cannot emphasize this enough: that woman is dangerous. Saving her is one thing, but bringing her into your home is another. I cannot condone this.”

​“Then don't condone it,” I huffed, crossing my arms. “Look, she was weaker than me at full power and now she doesn't even have half of that. If she steps out of line, Miyo or I will take care of her, but until she does, she's not going anywhere.”

My tone shifted near the end of my speech, becoming more serious and slightly warning. Rias blinked, clearly taken aback, and several of the Devils present tensed at the sudden change in atmosphere.

While I’d agree we were sort of friends and I liked pretty much everyone here, I wasn't a member of their peerage nor did I have to actually listen to anything they said. If they didn't like that Mittelt was staying with me, tough shit. This may be their territory but it was also mine, and I wasn't gonna be told who I could have in my own house.

Rias seemed to realize that, as a ghost of wariness passed across her face, before it was replaced with a cool expression.

“Besides,” I continued, relaxing my posture slightly, "it's not like she's gonna stay around forever. I'm sure she's gonna peace out the moment she gets enough of her magic back.”

​Rias looked like she wanted to argue more, but she eventually let out a tired sigh, sinking back into her chair. 

“Alright. I guess I have no choice but to trust you with this.”

Despite her words, there was a ghost of annoyance in her tone. She finally realized that fighting me on this would be more trouble than it was worth.

Akeno turned away, her expression unreadable but her aura still humming with a sharp irritation. The others in the room were still tense, but now that I wasn't basically threatening them, they didn't look like they were going to try and put me through a wall using their preferred methods.

​I turned my attention to the couch. Issei looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole, but the blonde girl was just watching me with wide, curious eyes.

​“Yo, Issei,” I said, giving him a half-smile. “You’ve gotten stronger.”

Issei flinched, glancing away. “Uh, I'm not that much stronger. I can Boost more than one time now but I don't think it's gonna make much of a difference against you.”

“Relax, dude. I was just making an observation.” I chuckled. “You're still way too weak. Maybe train up that Devil power a bit and actually get in contact with Ddraig. Then we can have some fun.”

​“Right. I'm… looking forward to it,” Issei looked like he was anything but. The girl next to him out a hand on his shoulder, concern flashing through her eyes, and he jumped. “Oh! Uh, this is Asia Argento. She was a nun in the church but she’s with us now.”

​“Nice to meet you, Asia. I’m Naomi,” I said. I flashed her a smile, then jerked a thumb at Issei. “I’m also the person who’s going to be kicking his ass into the dirt in the near future.”

​Asia’s eyes went even wider, her hands flying to her mouth in shock. “Kicking his... but why would you want to do such a thing to him?”

​Issei groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Asia, don't ask. It’s a long story.”

“It's nothing personal,” I added.

Asia looked between us, before an adorably determined look came to her face. “W-well I don't think you should. Issei is a very nice person! He went through so much to save me! You shouldn’t want to hurt someone who has a heart as big as his.”

She was so earnest too. ​A smirk pulled at my lips.

​“You’re adorable, but I'm afraid that I can't do that,” I said, “Trust me, it's better to just get this out of the way or it'll probably be much worse later down the line.”

​Asia’s shoulders slumped, but she didn’t back down. She turned to Issei, then back to me, her expression hardening. “Then… then I will be there when you fight. And if you do hurt him, I will heal him! I will make sure he’s okay!”

​Issei’s face went a shade of red that rivaled Rias’s hair. “Asia! You don’t have to–I mean, thanks, but–”

​I chuckled as he tripped over his words in a flustered panic. This guy was head over heels already and judging by the way she was looking at him, he wasn't the only one 

Good for him, I thought. He managed to snag a literal saint. I just hope he doesn't fuck it up by being a total pervert for five seconds.

​“He’s definitely gonna need the help,” I said, turning toward the door. “Anyway, I promised to be on time to my next class so I'll see you guys around.”

I caught Akeno’s gaze one last time, and the girl responded with a thin-lipped smile. Yeah, there was definitely something going on there.

Not my problem, though. I thought as I made my way back towards the relatively normal side of school.

That went better than I thought it would. Still, I expected to sense a bit more demonic energy lingering around my house in the next few days.

{— Two Days Later —}

It was ten in the morning and Mittelt was having a crisis.

The Fallen stood on her tiptoes, her fingers straining toward the top of a mahogany bookshelf in the hallway. Her skirt swished around her knees as she stretched upwards, her back straining as she tried and failed to get her fingers more than a few inches over the lip of the piece.

Her current ensemble was much more restricted than the outfits she normally dressed up in. A classic black and white piece that covered so much it probably wouldn't be out of place in an actual church, and heels that did little to hide the fact that she was several inches too short for the task at hand.

​“Stupid... human... furniture!” she hissed, her face turning a frustrated shade of pink.

​She instinctively reached for the magic to manifest her wings, but as she tried to pull on her core, she met only a heavy, sluggish resistance. 

​This is so demeaning, she thought, clutching the feather duster so hard the plastic handle creaked. I’m not some stupid human slave they can dress up! I am an agent of the Grigori!

Really, the dress was probably the least awful thing about this whole situation. She could make damn near anything look good, including a conservative piece like this. But she hated practically everything else about this place.

She hated the people. She hated the lemon-scented polish that made her nose itch. She hated the way the dust got in her hair and took forever to get out!

But most of all, she hated the fact that she was starting to get used to the routine. She snarled as she scrubbed harshly at the top of the shelf, falling back down onto her feet a moment later to glare at it impotently.

​“You missed a spot.”

​Mittelt nearly jumped out of her skin at the dry voice. She whirled around to find Miyo standing in the doorway, her arms crossed, her expression as unreadable as she stared at the Fallen.

​“I did not!” Mittelt snapped, her pride flaring up. “I have been scrubbing this piece of junk for twenty minutes!”

​Miyo didn't say a word. She simply walked over and reached up. She was taller than Mittelt, so she had no problem running a finger along the very back edge of the top shelf. She held out her hand. A thin, grey line of dust sat on the tip of her finger.

​Mittelt stared at it, her mouth hanging open before her face shifted angrily. “It's not my fault! Everything in this house is so big!”

“Your lack of height does not excuse you doing a sloppy job.” The woman said calmly, “Go get a stool and fix it.”

​Mittelt growled, a low sound in her throat that sounded more like a frustrated kitten than a Fallen Angel. She stalked into the kitchen – a journey that she had refused to make before our of pure spite – and grabbed the footstool from the pantry. She slammed it down in front of the shelf, and climbed up with angry stomps as Miyo watched from nearby. She then scrubbed the spot with enough force to strip the varnish, her eyes burning with a mix of embarrassment and fury.

​“Better?” she spat, looking down at Miyo.

​Miyo gave the shelf a cursory glance. “It is, thank you. You’ve earned your break. Go outside and get some air before you overheat.”

​Mittelt didn't need to be told twice. She dropped the duster like it was made of hot lead and bolted for the front door.

​She stepped out onto the front porch, the afternoon sun feeling amazing against her skin, before walking down to the edge of the property where the trees offered a bit of privacy from the quiet street.

Damn arrogant human, she thought, her fists clenched into angry balls at her side. If I was at full strength, I'd kill her for talking to me like that!

She took a deep breath, calming herself down with fantasies of what she'd like to do to that maid and the humans who ‘hired’ her. She couldn't waste time here. She needed to get back to headquarters and report Raynare’s failure.

Digging deep, Mittelt began to gather her magic, pulling from the depths of her soul.

​​A magic sigil formed in the air in front of her. It was pale pink, a ghostly imitation of the vibrant circles she used to be able to create, and it flickered and wavered, the lines bleeding into one another like watercolor.

​Mittelt gnashed her teeth, sweat beading on her forehead as she tried to stabilize her magic, but she could feel it slipping. ​Her magic didn't feel right. It was heavy. It was thick and sluggish, moving through her veins like molasses. Every time she tried to push her will into the spell, she felt a foreign warmth pushing back, as if something had infected her very soul.

​The sigil gave one final, pathetic flicker before shattering into a shower of useless sparks.

​“Dammit!” Mittelt screamed, stomping her foot into the dirt. “Dammit, dammit, dammit!”

​She felt full. Her magical tank was nearly at its limit, she could feel the pressure of the energy humming under her skin, but it wasn't hers. Not completely.

Her light was tainted.

​She raised her hand, focusing on a simpler construct – a light spear. It came easy; Angels could craft them from the day they were created and those who fell were no different. Even with her magic as disrupted as it was, this was one thing she couldn't fail.

A moment later, the weapon manifested in her grip, but she nearly dropped it in shock. Instead of the signature, brilliant neon pink, the spear came out tinged with a sickly orange. 

The weapon crackled with an unstable, jagged magic that felt more like a physical weight than a weapon of pure light and ​she held it for a moment, staring at the flickering orange glow. It felt wrong. It felt like…

Her.

​With a cry of disgust, Mittelt let the spell unravel. The spear burst into fractals of light that dissolved in midair, showering the ground in pink sparks of magic..

​As Mittelt panted, staring at her hand, a sharp tap on the window of the house drew her attention. She glanced up to see Miyo standing inside the house, motioning for her to come inside. Her break was over.

​Mittelt sneered but she couldn't hold it for long. She just didn't have it in her. Her shoulders slumped and she trudged back towards the house.

​As she stepped through the mudroom and back into the hallway, she bumped into a woman she hadn't seen much of lately the matriarch of the household.

Naomi’s mother looked just like her if you took away all the orange and put a straightening iron to her hair. Same pale skin, same eyes and nose–even her damn smirk was the same!

​“Oh, hello there!” the woman said, pausing to give her a grin. “I just noticed the bookshelves. That's your work, right? Miyo usually saves them for last. You did a good job!”

​Mittelt froze. She opened her mouth to deliver a scathing remark about how she didn't care, but the words died in her throat. There was no mockery in the woman’s eyes, just genuine praise.

​A flush of warmth crawled up Mittelt’s neck. She looked at the floor, her fingers twisting in the fabric of her apron.

​“It was... nothing,” she muttered, her voice barely audible.

​“It’s hard work is what it is,” Naomi’s mother slapped her on the shoulder, “I wasn’t too sure about hiring another maid but if you keep this up, you can work for us for as long as you want! It's always nice having another voice in the house.”

The woman ascended the nearby stairs and ​Mittelt stood in the hallway long after the she had disappeared. She felt a strange, itchy sensation in her chest.

​She hated this house. She hated that damn human and her maid. She hated being a maid.

​But as she picked up the feather duster to start on the next room, she realized she was scrubbing a little harder than she needed to.