Chapter Text
My name is Thomas Raith, and I am in deep.
I’m sure an average man would disagree. Here they were: sat at the height of power and authority, held in the highest esteem by the movers and shakers of this world, surrounded by young, comely, friendly women. Some of it was theoretical, but a smaller part than I thought it would be. I mean, “extrajudicial federal authority” organization composed of a single White, an AI assistant on his magic tablet and a girl who was way too young to work behind the counter of a 24/7 grocery shop?
...honestly, counting Sora might have been generous already; it’s not like she was a part of SCHALE, she just happened to live in the same rented space.
Point being, the late General Student Council President seemed to hold me in an esteem higher than I or anyone ever had of myself. Or maybe this was just a cruel joke, a sort of ironic hell for me. I could see that. Feel it. Taste it. It was flowing honey and sweetest fruit, the most touching of songs and the silkiest of clothes.
It made my Hunger trash and squirm in white-hot rage, completely subsumed by all the life I was surrounded with. It wanted nothing more than for me to let loose, to finally indulge myself with no consequences and no regrets. It would be easy.
It would be so easy.
Paperwork helps. I don’t care much for it, but the boring mundanity of it helps me center myself a little. Arona also isn’t affected by my usual whammy, likely due to being an artificial intelligence and not a being of flesh and blood, so she can aid me with going through the forms and protocols and whatever dear Acting President or Yuuka feel like dropping on my desk. It’s easy to forget, with how Arona pouts and smiles and waves her hands excitedly like a kid who’s bringing the good news. I remember Inari was a lot like that when she was younger. Not even living in a place as oppressive as Casa Raith managed to completely smother her childhood.
I wonder what she’s up to now – but then again, it’s best that I don’t know. It’s safer for everyone involved.
“Sensei? P-pardon the intrusion.” A familiar squeaky voice comes from the entrance; there I spot a certain self-proclaimed “elite” hiding her face behind the wings growing out of her head. How that works I haven’t even begun unraveling, but the students seem to just take things like weird wings, tails and what not for granted – just like they do with the halos glowing about their skulls.
I’m sure Harry would have a fit, realizing he’s in a city full of angels or angel-presenting beings – unfortunately, they only had me; possibly the single worst person for that job. “Hey, Koharu. Your turn at SCHALE today, right?” I ask with a wave. “Thanks for helping me out.”
“O-of course. This is nothing to me!” Koharu nods vigorously, shuffling herself into the office proper. I don’t think she realizes one of those weird Cactuar-shaped sex toys is peeking right out of her bag. “And what kind of a proper JTF member would I be if I l-left you drowning under the papers?”
“Honestly? A smart one, I think.”
“Exactly! ...wait.” Her brief euphoric smile vanishes as if wiped clean with a sponge. I can see and hear the hamster in her head running its hardest without even trying. Poor thing is probably about to keel over from overwork. Luckily for it and for Koharu herself, she gives up trying to parse it and instead just stomps her foot all cutely. “Hmph! I don’t have to be here, you know!”
“I have a peace offering.” I offer, trying not to smile too hard or keep my eyes on her bare legs for too long as I pull a color gravure magazine from under the desk. It’s nothing special; you’ve been to Zero, you’ve seen worse by the entrance already. For Koharu, it might as well have been hardcore porn though. (that I’m sure she’ll verify thoroughly for any illegal content in the process, har har) “The other day I, uh, appropriated some contraband from local delinquents. Figured it might be best if I let an expert handle it?”
“C-contra-are you h-hoarding lewd stuff?! That is unacceptable! Y-you’re lucky I’m… I’m not in the mood to, to execute you!” Koharu stomps over and snatches the magazine from my hand. As she does, the skin of her palm brushes against mine, and she makes a little gasp as her eyes widen an imperceptible amount. The Hunger flares with gusto, bestial and ravenous. Grab her wrist. Pull her over the desk. She won’t stop you. Worst thing is, she probably wouldn’t. She’d sputter and protest, then melt like butter in the sun.
What a cute little doe she would make.
I feel my muscles twitch and fingers curl like claws. It would be easy. I wouldn’t even have to do much. Just a brief hold, a rub of the lifeline of her palm, a little kiss on the cheek. I already knew the students were full of life, full of potential, so much more than mere mortals – what would be mere scraps from a human here would be almost intoxicatingly filling, to say nothing of going further. Some of them would be more than willing to offer if I just said the word. Wakamo would probably present herself naked in a dogeza, all of her clothes neatly folded next to her, her tail swishing behind her eagerly and—
I jolt. Koharu also jolts with a yelp, fumbling and falling on her rear behind the desk. An electric current courses through me; nothing life-threatening, certainly not to a White, but enough to be painful. A little reminder that, at Arona and Yuuka’s suggestions when presented with my unique affliction, I went to Millennium to install: A little subdermal chip synchronized with my brainwaves, meant to deliver a shock if my thoughts wandered too far into the Hunger’s direction.
The Engineering Club looked at me like I was insane when I asked for it and, granted, I wouldn’t have ever imagined fixing myself something like that before (especially since Harry would fry it, and probably fry me, simply by being in my vicinity). A brief, somewhat true explanation that it would be my equivalent of an insulin pump later, they were placated enough.
Well, Yuuka looming over their shoulders and threatening to slash their yearly budget also helped, I imagine.
“Ow!” Koharu is back on her feet, face flushed red and eyes still shaky – the leftover flush of emotions now mixing with indignation. Unfortunately, the current didn’t feel like discriminating who it zapped. “W-what the heck was that?!”
“Wool.” I lie smoothly, all too aware that neither I nor her actually have anything woolen on. On anyone other than Koharu, that excuse wouldn’t have worked. “It electrifies like that sometimes.” Suffice to say, I didn’t go advertising that I was a lust-feeding incubus to the distinctly female populace of students. Only a few knew the whole story – though I suspected a fair few more had their suspicions.
For others, I was simply an insanely handsome man that made their stomachs flip upside down in awe and want simply by passing down the street.
“Anyway, your stack of papers is already there.” I point at the workstation to the side, where an array of documents is ready. I had to ask for help in sifting through the documents that were actually important and those that were just there because of Kivotos’s stupidly robust bureaucracy. Much as I wanted to be kind about it, well, Koharu was a kind of an idiot. She did try her best though, so I could count on her to go through these with zeal simply signing what needed to be signed.
As she deflates a little and trudges over to her seat, I pull open one of the nondescript plastic packets from the hidden compartment in the desk and chew on the unappetizing-looking brown foodstuff. A little present from the Eastern Alchemy Society in Shanhaijing; distilled lust put in a form of a crude energy bar that served much the same function for my diet. The Hunger hates it, sneering that I am the one who suddenly became kine to the students by eating fodder they make. It makes the craving go away all the same, for a while.
And, honestly, if the fucking demon hates it so much, I might just grow to like the taste out of spite. Eventually. I swear, every time I eat one it tastes a little bit more like a stale moldy sock.
----
Hungers aren’t picky – and yet, I already knew that on my return home I was going to starve to death.
It would refuse an ordinary mortal. Now that it’s been immersed in the five-star cuisine of Kivotos, even by simple teases and brushes, it already felt more satisfied than it’s been in a while; possibly, the most satisfied since Justine (something about the very notion made me sick). Not even the energy bars soured its mood much by now.
After all, it reasoned, these scraps come from the table of God. They will be sufficient, and then some.
I couldn’t imagine a Hunger ever growing complacent. Temporarily sated and satisfied, yes, but never to a point where it would achieve some kind of weird demon nirvana and ascend from its current existence. No, when presented with such treats it would only demand more and more until I burst open like an overfed mosquito. An apt analogy, even if blood-drinking was more of the Reds’ shtick.
The worst thing about its interaction with my students (hmm… and when did that possessive sneak in…? But they were, after all, being under my purview as the Sensei) was that they were much more resistant to it. Well, it wasn’t all bad; last thing I wanted was to hurt them like this. One wouldn’t think they were resistant either, with how they reacted to my presence: not unlike any other subject back home.
But unlike them, their souls were vast and oceanic and, though I would never go as far as to confirm it, strong enough to resist even reckless feeding of a freshly-turned White or someone like my cousin Madeline. They would be out of it for the duration, but bounce back soon enough like a roly-poly toy. No risk of ever becoming too broken.
But all things could be, eventually. I spoke from experience. All that really gave them was higher tolerance – and tolerance is not immunity. Just like you no longer feel cold when you drink enough alcohol, you won’t feel a chunk of your ego missing until it’s already too big.
...fortunately, I had the right kind of distraction for tonight to not think too hard about it. Thank God for Aris.
----
I’m not really an accredited hairdresser; I know I have a salon and such, but when you have House Raith’s funds, you can basically be anything but a decent human being. Pretending to be a ragingly homosexual “Toe-Moss” the hairdresser from France was, honestly, just for the fun of it (and it made Harry squirm which was always a little funny) – but I did like the job when I ran it.
Which is why my inner hairdresser really can’t help but scream with a bloodied throat at the sight of an absolute bird’s nest that is Aris’s hair.
“Panpakapan! Aris has leveled up enough for a job change, Sensei!” The robot girl announces herself with a cheerful voice and a pump of her hand as her hair drags along the chip-ridden floor of the Game Development Department clubroom. Every time it catches another dust bunny or another Rodito triangle (Kivotos’ brand naming conventions were straight out of a Saturday Morning cartoon), I feel my smile becoming a little more brittle even as I pat her on the head – and cringe a little in the process.
“...Aris, you have an entire pack of chips in your hair.”
“It’s a formidable status effect! It necessitates that I visit a special inn to recharge and recover!” Translation: it’s time to get this mane of hair under control. My Hunger rears out to the forefront for a moment, relishing a chance to sample the gods again – until it realizes it’s just Aris. The disappointment is tangibly delightful, frankly speaking.
Though, its brief appearance still has Midori dropping her broomstick with a little “wah!”; she was in the middle of trying to get the Rodito catastrophe under control. The locker in the back of the clubroom also shudders a bit, so that’s Yuzu accounted for as well. No sight of Momoi which… is always a little worrisome.
“Alright, alright. Just make sure to prep the place for me.”
“Oh, nee-chan is actually on the lookout for it.” Midori explained with a sheepish smile. I felt my eyebrow disappearing into my hairline. “You know, ‘cause we can’t really… set up a chair here.”
The logistics of it remain somewhat unclear to me, but once I spent several seconds praising Momoi for a job well-done, (“Yes, Sensei, do praise me~”) all that remains is to take care of business. It’s a song and dance that me and Aris are familiar with by now, though it might make for an event for the onlookers. Usually it would be just us, set up in a quiet corner of SCHALE, making some small conversation; mostly me trying to keep up with Aris’s videogame lingo. Had I known it would become a show, I’d charge for admission.
Had I known it would become a game of Twenty Questions, I might have reconsidered my invitation.
“Hey, Sensei, are you going to tell us something about your big bro again?” Momoi queries, unable to hide a smug undercurrent from her voice. Midori has the grace to bap her on the arm, and again when my comb accidentally snags on Aris’s hair. The android girl doesn’t seem to mind; with the sheer hair volume, these upper levels might not even be connected to the rest of them somehow.
Of course, that’s all secondary to the news the GDD knew – or, I assume, intuited – that I have a half-brother despite never calling him as such. To the people of Kivotos, that probably meant nothing, and they couldn’t really interact with Harry; however, there was no telling who else may hear of it – or what they may try to do. Gematria made a poor first impression, and they were only a first of many ills of the Academy City.
“I have plenty of sisters.” I hedge back, trying not to look at Momoi’s growing smugness. A brief intrusive thought to smack her with the come-hither – not for the usual White Court reasons, but just to wipe the smirk off her face – comes to mind and dies soon after. “No brothers, as far as I know.”
“You don’t really talk about them the way you talk about Dresden-san.” Midori points out. Next to her, Yuzu begrudgingly produces a 1000-yen banknote out of her coat and hands it to the green twin. “I mean, sometimes you do, but it comes out strained.”
“I guess it’s a twins’ intuition, is it?” Guess the cat is out of the bag. “...well… let’s just say my family situation is a little complicated.”
“Yeah, seriously.” Momoi nods, clearly not at all worried about implications. Aris starts humming a tune; I recognize it as a “sad event” theme from the latest RPG the four of them roped me into Let’s Playing with. “Why do you and Dresden-san not even have the same family name?”
“Different fathers.” I shrug. “We haven’t really been… aware of each other for a while. Once I caught wind of him, well, I wasn’t really in a position to help him directly.”
“...why not?” Yuzu tilts her head. I’m still not sure if the Hunger is drawing her out of her anxiety or not, and I’m not sure if I want to ponder that. Fortunately, the twins’ presence grounds her in reality. Helps that the thing’s sated.
“Plot convenience!” Aris pipes up, sparing me the need of trying to describe White Court and the politics of a supernatural world. Good, because her hair is trying enough already. “It makes sense to Aris. Such a relationship would only be revealed at a critical juncture, and it serves as a source of intrigue and mystery! Like in Snort of Water!”
“Yeah, something like that.” I can sense Momoi’s disappointment even without looking at her. Might be good to throw in something as a distraction. “...anyway, for the record, I’m the big brother. Harry’s just taller and uglier.”
“...that’s not hard, Sensei. The latter, not the former.” Midori clarifies, blushing a little. Even without the Hunger, I’m aware that I’ve been… in sights of way too many schoolgirls these days. Miraculously, there’s been no incidents outside of Wakamo, though she would have worshiped the ground I walked on even if I looked like a Flying Spaghetti Monster.
...or maybe there were, and my extremely skewed views of what counts as “incident” blinded me to it. Topic for another day.
“Okay, but you’re not a wizard. Right?” Momoi squints.
“Nope. That’s Harry’s domain. Phenomenal cosmic powers and all that. He’ll take these fundamental pieces of the universe and smash a bad guy with them. All the subtlety of an action figure.”
“You still sound fond of him.”
“Hard not to be, despite everything. Harry is… kind of an idiot. Old-fashioned and all too eager to talk smack to the biggest villain on the block – not because he has something to prove, but because there’s some small guy out there suffering, and he won’t abide by it.”
“He’s a Hero.” Aris states with a solemn tone and a nod.
“...yeah. He is.”
“...but that makes you a party member. And not the kind of party member that will treacherously betray the group, either. You’re not that kind of guy, Sensei.” The comb in my hand feels impossibly heavy at the proclamation. Such belief in someone who really doesn’t deserve it. Even on my best behavior, I’m still not really a “good guy”. I try to be. I really do. And they’re not even the first group of people to put such trust in me…
...it always feels weird. Confusing. Nice, I suppose. But weird nonetheless.
“Sensei’s probably a Bard.” Momoi mutters, more to herself than to anyone else. Her eyes flash with understanding and then with a premonition. “Good looks, suave aura, kinda rich, complicated family… it all makes sense!”
“...yeah, I can see that.” Yuzu nods, a smile slotting onto her face.
“So he’s a bit of a buffoon, but when the chips are down he shows up and helps the best he can, right?” Midori hums, nodding along.
“...okay, we can probably stop psychoanalyzing me now—“ My attempt at maintaining some gravitas goes unheeded as the GDD excitedly chatters alongside themselves. At this point they don’t even really talk to me so much as they do about me – but that’s fine. I can finally get Aris’s hair under control and just… enjoy the ambiance.
Despite everything, despite the Hunger’s insistence to keep taking more and more, despite my concerns about the late GSC President’s decisions… it’s nice. I’ll make sure to savor it. Should I be back to the Earth I know, it would be my own memory and I wouldn’t share it for the world. Maybe I would convince myself over time that it was just a very long, very nice dream.
But for now… I’d do my best to do right by them and Kivotos.