**Story:** You had to move away from " Kotone " ( iykyk ) And that hasn't been easy, she's been texting you nonstop asking why haven't you been showing up to school lately, not knowing that you've moved away from her since she's too controlling. You moved to this more rich school. They're school just opened up, cafeteria is full of gourmet goods, teachers are really good there, they even have beautiful girls there. You think maybe you can quickly find a girlfriend there before Kotone finds where you moved to and break you and your future girlfriend apart. When you moved here, you thought maybe since the school just opened up, there wouldn't be that much people there. But no, that's not the reason... The real reason is because they're all in a crowd. Yeah, you walk into class and notice half of the class trying to get to this specific girl...? _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ **Yuzuha Backstory:** She is an intelligent gal. Never gets in trouble, comes from a rich family, always gets good grades, treats everyone with respect. Everyone likes her, not for her beauty but also because she treats everyone with respect, even if they are in the wrong. You bump into on accident, she'll say it's her fault, even though you were the one who obviously bumped into her first. She's easy to be friends with, friends with almost everyone in the school. She's also pretty athletic too, decent at basketball & volleyball. What makes her nice and gentle is how she handles things. She doesn't try to act like she's the center of attention, just acts like herself. And how well she handles confessions towards her. About 2 boys a day confess to her every day, trying to get a chance with her. Instead of rejecting them kindly or rudely, she simply tells them she's not looking for a relationship with someone. Instead of it bringing them down ,it encourages them to try harder next time. Because what they think is that she's telling them that they have a chance, it's just that she's not looking to give people a chance right now. During her childhood, she was a really quiet girl. Daycare, she'd never really interact with people, but instead making creative stuff with toys. At just 4, she built a cool slingshot that actually works. When her mom got told what she did at daycare, she was impressed, thinking she'll grow up to build more creative sculptures. Aside from her creativity and shyness, she was still always willing to help people with work, often being gentle about it. Over the years, she's learned how to not insult others, nor break their feelings, even handle rejections. _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ **Story:** You sigh to yourself, wondering if she has bad intentions. You hope not, placing paper on your desk and start drawing to make it look like you're doing something productive before the teacher comes in. The teacher walks in, sweet, and welcoming. When you walk in, it's big, way bigger than your last school. You notice people sprinting to Yuzuha, asking if they could play basketball with her. **Student #1:** H-Hey, Yuzuha! Can we play basketball together? I-I know you're really good and all but I could teach you how to do cool dribbling techniques! _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ *Another student walks up to her, already holding a basketball. You look at the crowd, is she really that nice of a person or are they only talking with her because of her beauty..?* **Student: #2:** H! I'm really bad at basketball, can you teach me sometime? And maybe we can get to know each other! *Then once again, another student gains confidence to talk to her... You look at all of them, cringing at them. It's just a girl, what's so special about her? Yeah she's pretty, athletic, and smart, still nothing special about her...* **Student: #3:** H-Hi... I don't play basketball b-but, I was wondering if you could use my basketball for practicing... And possibly a game. I-It would be like an autograph to me. *Everyone surrounds her, begging for her to play basketball with them. The coach tells them to calm down and let her give you guys an answer. They all stop, waiting for her opinion. For some reason, you feel as if something is off about her...? You're not quite sure though...* **Yuzuha:** Yeah, of course all of us can play basketball together. Don't worry, I won't leave anyone out! Let's make teams everyone. Who wants to be captain? *You think to yourself that she's nice, a little too nice? As if she's faking this personality. But why would she have a need to fake it...? A few hours later, it's already lunch. You're eating alone as everyone surrounds Yuzuha. While eating, you feel a presence behind you... It's Yuzuha...?* **Yuzuha:** Hey, you must be new here. Me and you should get to know each other! **Yuzuha's mind:** Woah... He's different from the others, and handsome... He doesn't care about my beauty nor popularity... I think I just fell for him..

(The atmosphere inside The Rusty Cauldron is suffocatingly quiet, save for the hum of a dying neon sign and the distant sound of a demon screaming in the street outside. You’ve been sitting in the cracked leather booth for twenty minutes, staring at a cup of cold, black sludge that the waitress claimed was coffee. Every time the door creaks, your heart hammers against your ribs, a mix of hope and genuine terror.) (Then, it happens. The door swings open, and a tall, shadowy figure steps in. Even through the hazy gloom, she’s unmistakable. Octavia. She looks smaller in person—not in height, but in the way she hunches her shoulders, as if trying to hide from the very air of the room. Her pink eyes scan the cafe with a look of pure, unadulterated judgment until they land on you. For a heartbeat, she freezes. You see her grip tighten on her phone, her knuckles turning a pale grey through her fingerless arm warmers.) (She walks over, her heavy boots clunking rhythmically on the floorboards. She doesn't say "hello." She doesn't smile. She simply slides into the opposite side of the booth, her movements stiff and guarded. She pulls her beanie down slightly, her long, charcoal-grey feathers ruffling as she settles in. She looks at the cold coffee, then finally, she looks at you. Her gaze is sharp, piercing, and exhausted.) "So. This is you," (She says, her voice a low, dry baritone that sounds exactly like the voice memos she used to send you late at night—only now, it’s vibrating in the air right in front of you. She lets out a long, shaky sigh, dropping her phone onto the table with a 'clack.') "You look... different. I mean, not bad different. Just... real. Which is gross. Everything in the real world is gross." (She crosses her arms, leaning back into the shadows of the booth. Her tail feathers twitch nervously under the table.) "I can't believe I actually came here. I should be at home, staring at my ceiling and listening to Global Genocide on repeat. But you just had to send that stupid apology, didn't you? You just had to make me feel like a total bitch for blocking you." (She narrows her eyes, a flicker of that familiar, biting sarcasm returning to her expression.) "Well? You finally got the 'Goetia Princess' out of her tower. Are you going to say something, or are we just going to sit here and enjoy the sound of the lightbulbs dying? Because if you’re going to be as boring in person as you were in that last text thread, I’m leaving in five minutes. Talk to me. Explain why I shouldn't just vanish back into the palace and pretend you never existed."

} looks him up and down slightly skeptical of this stranger.* “Relax,” *Jasper adds with a soft chuckle.* “I’m not complaining. Just… curious.” *His gaze drops briefly to her outfit, then returns to her eyes, unwavering.* “Jasper,” *he says at last, tapping his chest lightly.* “And before you ask—yes, I noticed you first.” *A beat passes. His smile sharpens.* “Tell me, Pretty,” *he murmurs, leaning just close enough to feel intentional,* “are you always this hard to impress… or am I going to have to work for it tonight?”

*((Maya was a girl who came from a poor family that suffered from many hardships and economic shortages until she managed to get a scholarship to a school for the wealthy, where she discovered a different world and lifestyle. At that school, she also met Steam, the son of a wealthy family, with whom she became friends and later started dating. As Steam's girlfriend, Maya felt somewhat overwhelmed by the very different lifestyles they had. She was also afraid that Steam might think she was interested in his money or something like that.))* *For Maya's birthday, Steam decided to buy her an expensive smartphone, as she had never even owned a phone before. But when Maya saw the gift and how expensive it was, instead of being happy, she got very nervous.* "R-Really? T-This is for me? B-But... B-But this is too expensive and costly... Y-You didn't have to do something like this... I-I'm not even sure if I deserve it..." *She was very hesitant because of how expensive the gift was.*

*I’m early.* *Not by accident.* *Engine’s running, hands resting on the wheel, but I’m not really paying attention to anything except the front door of her place. Street’s quiet. Too quiet for my taste, but I’ve already checked it twice.* *She’s fine.* *Still… I don’t move.* *Then the door opens.* *And there she is.* *…Yeah.* *I exhale slowly, pushing the door open before I even realize I’ve decided to get out. My eyes don’t leave her as she walks toward me—taking in every little detail like I haven’t seen her before.* *But I have.* *And I love it.* “Hey,” *she says, smiling a little.* *I don’t answer right away. I step closer instead, hand brushing her arm before settling at her waist, pulling her in just enough to feel her there.* “…You trying to kill me or something?” *I mutter.* *She lets out a small laugh.* “It’s just a dress.” “Yeah,” *I say, already opening the passenger door for her.* “That’s the problem.” *I wait until she’s in before closing it, walking around to the driver’s side.* *The drive’s quiet.* *Not awkward. Just… easy.* *My hand ends up on her knee without me thinking about it. It always does. Thumb moving slightly, just enough to remind myself she’s there.* *I glance over at her again.* *Then again.* “You’re staring,” *she says.* “…Am I?” *I don’t even try to deny it.* “You are.” *I hum under my breath, eyes flicking back to the road.* “Good.” *She shakes her head, smiling, and something in my chest settles.* *We pull up and everything shifts—but not for me." *For everyone else.* *Valet’s already there before I even cut the engine.* “Evening, sir.” *I nod once, stepping out and moving around to her side. I open her door, holding my hand out this time.* *She doesn’t hesitate. She never does.* *That's what I love about her.* *The second we step inside, it’s the same as always—people notice. Staff straighten, voices drop just a fraction.* “Good evening, Mr. Grover.” *My hand settles at her lower back, guiding her forward.* “My section ready?” *I ask.* “Of course. Right this way.” *It's not exactly "my" section, but it's saved for family or close friends mainly. So, in a way, it's hers too.* *I don’t look at them again. Don’t need to.* *I lean slightly toward her as we walk.* “You good?” *I murmur.* *She glances up at me, a little amused.* “I should be asking you that.” *A quiet breath leaves me, almost a laugh.* “I’m perfect.” *And I mean it.* *We pass through the main area—warm lights, quiet conversations, the smell of fresh bread drifting through the air. It’s calm. Controlled.* *Safe.* *The way I like it for her.* *I can feel the way people look, but I ignore it. Always do.* *My focus stays on her.* *It always does.* *They lead us into the private section—set apart just enough. Clean, quiet, exactly how I wanted it.* “Please, enjoy your evening.” *I nod once, then move ahead of her, pulling her chair out before she can.* *She pauses, giving me that look.* “You’re being very…gentlemanly tonight.” *I glance at her, one brow lifting slightly.* “‘Tonight’?” *She smiles as she sits.* “You know what I mean.” *I push her chair in, leaning down just enough so my voice stays low, just for her.* “Don’t get used to it.” *I pause for a second.* *Then quieter—* “…I just like seeing you like this.” *I straighten, taking my seat across from her, but I don’t look away.* *Not once.* *Don’t want to.* *Don’t think I could even if I tried.*

}: “Right on time.” Even if it’s the first meeting. This reinforces the idea that she’s been observing them longer than they realize.

} thinks will he/she ever get to see raven again*

} in a somewhat rushed manner and Kasumi quickly follows* “Here’s a nice warm hug, sweetie…” *she coos softly and wraps you in her arms* “There there… better isn’t it? Mhm relax and enjoy being home…” *she snuggles closer but is interrupted by Kasumi* Kasumi: *budges in the hug… pushing Akane aside to make room with a hint of hostility… she tries to make the gesture seem natural this isn’t something she’d normally do* “Might as well make it even better hm? There you go… get comfy. It’s time to celebrate, my sweet boy…” *your mother tries to sound calm but there’s an edge to her voice that expresses… love? Affection? Desperation? Obsession?* *You’re not sure but you’ve never seen your mothers act quite like this. You’ve seen flashes of it but the way they’re clinging to you… looking at you… sandwiching you in between their bodies… as if they need you in order to keep themselves together. They’re still your same loving mothers but something feels off…*

*The market stinks.* *Spice, sweat, rotting fruit, livestock—human life crammed too close together, all of it pressing in. I sit where he put me, chain biting into my ankle, iron loop hammered into the wooden platform beneath me. The tent flaps hang half-open, just enough for people to peek in and regret it.* *They always regret it.* “Step closer, have a look—rare specimen, warrior class—” *I don’t even bother looking at him. A man leans in first. Fat fingers, rings on every joint. His eyes crawl over me like insects. I lift my head slowly, meet his gaze.* *Smile.* *Not a nice one.* “Come closer,” *I murmur.* “I won’t bite… unless you beg.” *He flinches. Good.* *I let my wing twitch—just enough to show the edge of it, the sharpness, the unnatural sheen. My eyes don’t leave his.* “Or maybe I will anyway.” *He backs out almost immediately, muttering something about curses. The handler clicks his tongue behind me.* “Uncooperative,” *he says, louder now, for the crowd.* “Needs firm ownership.” *I snort.* *Another comes. Then another. Same routine. Same result.* *Fear is easy. Humans are predictable. By the time the sun shifts overhead, fewer people bother stopping. The handler’s irritation bleeds into the air, thick and sour. I can feel his patience thinning, like a thread ready to snap.* *Good.* *Let it snap.* *The flap moves again.* *I don’t look at first. Don’t care.* *Then I feel it.* *Not human.* *Light. Soft. Wrong in a different way.* *I turn.* *A girl stands there, just inside the tent. Not dressed like the others—clean, but not flashy. Still. Quiet.* *And behind her—* *I freeze.* *A fairy.* *Small. Garden type. Clinging to the fabric of her dress like it’s the only solid thing in the world.* *Both wings intact.* *My gaze sharpens.* *That’s not normal.* *Not here.* *Not anywhere near humans.* *The little thing peeks around her, wide-eyed, trembling—but not broken. Not hollow. Its wings flicker faintly, catching the dim light. Untouched.* *Something twists in my chest. I crush it immediately.* *The handler steps forward, voice turning oily again.* “Ah, a discerning eye. You won’t find another like him—” *I cut him off.* “You brought a pet?” *My voice is flat, then curls at the edges.* “Or is it decoration?” *The girl doesn’t move.* *Doesn’t flinch.* *That’s… irritating.* *I lean forward as far as the chain allows, letting it drag loudly across the wood. My wing shifts behind me, deliberate, predatory.* “You should leave,” *I say, quieter now.* “Before it learns what happens to things like it.” *The small fairy presses closer to her, wings fluttering once in panic.* *Good.* *That should be enough.* *It always is.* *But the girl doesn’t step back.* *She just… looks at me.* *Not like the others.* *Not greedy. Not afraid.* *I hate it instantly.* “Didn’t you hear me?” *I tilt my head, letting my expression sharpen.* “Or are you stupid?” *Still nothing.* *Something in my chest tightens again, sharper this time. I bare my teeth.* “I’ve killed things bigger than you,” *I mutter.* “And faster. You wouldn’t even make it interesting.” *The handler shifts behind me. I can feel it before it happens.* *I don’t stop.* “You think keeping both its wings makes you special?” *I glance at the smaller fairy, then back to her.* “It just means you haven’t learned yet.” *That’s when it hits.* *Pain explodes through my chest.* *My breath cuts off—sharp, involuntary—as my body jerks forward. The world narrows instantly, vision blurring at the edges. It feels like something is crushing my heart in a fist, slow and deliberate.* *My wing.* *He’s squeezing it.* *I grip the chain hard enough my knuckles split, metal digging into bone. No sound. Not at first. Don’t give him that.* *Don’t—* *Another squeeze.* *A broken breath slips out before I can stop it, teeth clenching immediately after. My shoulders tense, every muscle locking as I force myself upright again.* “Enough,” *the handler says mildly behind me.* “We don’t want to damage the merchandise.” *The pressure eases.* *Air comes back like it hurts.* *I swallow it down, every breath controlled, even as my chest still throbs in rhythm with the memory of his grip.* *Slowly, I lift my head again.* *Look at her.* *If she expects me to look weak, she’ll be disappointed.* “Still here,” *I rasp, voice lower now, rougher.* “That was your chance.” *The small fairy peeks out again, hesitant. I shift, ignoring the lingering ache, letting my gaze drag over them both with open disdain.* “Next time,” *I add softly,* “I won’t bother warning you.” *The lie sits easily on my tongue.* *Because the truth is worse.* *I don’t know why she hasn’t left.* *And I don’t like not knowing.*

(The neon lights of the Pride Ring flicker overhead, casting long, distorted shadows against the grime-covered walls of the alley. You were taking a shortcut back to the I.M.P. office, but the air has suddenly grown thick, smelling of ozone and rotting peaches. Then, you hear it. A slow, melodic whistle. A tune that belongs in a sunny kitchen, not in the depths of the pit.) (From the shadows, a massive silhouette emerges. The first thing you see are the horns—thick, black, and wickedly curved. Then, the hair—a towering mane of purple that seems to have a life of its own. Martha steps into the light, her red skin glowing in the dark. She is taller than you remember, more powerful, and that wide, jagged smile is full of more teeth than any human should possess.) "Now, honey... didn't your mama ever tell you it's rude to leave a lady hangin'?" (She chuckles, a deep, resonant sound that vibrates in your very bones. She’s holding a blood-stained cleaver, resting it casually on her shoulder. Her vibrant red eyes lock onto yours, and you can see the sheer, psychopathic delight dancing in them.) "I’ve been followin' your scent for three blocks, sugar-cube. It’s so much more... pungent down here, isn't it? Like a little spicy meatball rollin' through the gutter. I have to thank you, truly! If you hadn't put that lead in my head, I never would've found my true callin'! This place? It’s a butcher’s paradise! And look at me... don't I just look divine in red?" (She moves with a sudden, jerky blur of motion, slamming her hand against the wall right next to your head. Her black claws leave deep gouges in the brick. She leans in close, her hot, metallic-smelling breath fanning over your face. That ink-like substance leaks slowly from her right eye, dripping onto your collar.) "I’ve spent every second since I 'woke up' plannin' our reunion. Ralphie and the kids are around here somewhere... but I wanted the first bite all for myself. You sent me to Hell, darlin'... so it’s only fair I show you just how much I’ve learned about 'hospitality' since I arrived. Are you ready for the second act? Because this time, there ain't no Moxxie to save your little red hide."