The sun crept over Kuoh Academy like a cautious observer, casting warm light over the school's familiar structure. But for Haru Tsukihara, everything was unfamiliar now.
He stood in the middle of the training field behind the Occult Research Club's clubhouse—a spacious courtyard cloaked by trees and sealed with illusionary magic, shielding them from human eyes. Runes glimmered faintly around the edges of the barrier, shimmering like heatwaves.
"Alright," Rias said, standing with her arms crossed. "Let's see what you can do without nearly killing yourself this time."
Haru groaned, cracking his neck. "You say that like it's a common occurrence."
"For you?" Akeno said, standing beside her with her usual amused smile. "It might be."
The rest of Rias's peerage was present: Kiba Yuuto, stoic and calm, already warming up with a practice sword; Koneko Toujou, the small white-haired rook, munching on a protein bar and watching Haru like a curious cat; and Issei, of course, who looked almost giddy.
"You ready for your first real day as a Devil?" Issei grinned, his hand already twitching with excitement. "We're gonna train like hell, literally!"
"I'm not sure that's encouraging," Haru muttered.
Rias clapped her hands. "We'll begin with control exercises. Kiba, you're up. Haru needs a moving target."
Kiba stepped forward, drawing a practice blade. "Don't worry, I'll go easy."
"Please don't," Haru said. "If I'm going to learn, I need to get used to the pressure."
The two stood across from each other. Kiba nodded once. Haru inhaled deeply.
Focus the pull. Don't force it. Let gravity answer.
He extended his hand, and a ripple of pressure distorted the space between them. Kiba's stance shifted slightly, adapting immediately to the slight tug at his footing. Haru narrowed his eyes and amplified the gravitational field—focusing it not on Kiba's entire body, but his sword arm.
Kiba blinked. "Huh. Clever."
He lunged.
Haru sidestepped, the gravity shift just enough to throw off Kiba's swing. But maintaining the field drained his mana rapidly—each second like pouring energy into a bottomless pit. He staggered.
Kiba pressed the advantage, closing the gap.
Too slow!
Haru clenched his fist, and a pulse of gravity exploded outward, knocking Kiba back a few feet—though the swordsman landed on his feet with barely a scratch.
"Impressive burst," Kiba said. "But you're draining yourself too quickly."
Haru dropped to one knee, panting. "I noticed."
"That's because you're brute-forcing it," Rias said, stepping forward. "Your ability isn't just about increasing gravity. It's about manipulation—direction, density, pressure. You're acting like a hammer when you should be a scalpel."
"I don't know how to be a scalpel," Haru muttered.
"You will." Rias pointed to Koneko. "Now it's your turn to dodge."
The petite girl hopped down and stretched. "I won't hold back."
"Wait, what?"
Before Haru could fully process it, Koneko was already in front of him, her fist arcing toward his jaw with terrifying speed. He barely raised his arms in time to block, but the impact sent him skidding across the field.
He groaned as he stood. "I think my spine became a question mark."
Koneko tilted her head. "You're sturdy. Good."
They continued for over an hour—sparring, focusing, fine-tuning the flow of his gravity magic. Haru learned to condense his ability into short pulses, focusing pressure into precise points: a shift in someone's balance, a subtle pull to disrupt motion, a flicker of distortion to deflect projectiles.
By the end, his clothes were singed, his face bruised, and his mana low—but he was standing. Proud.
"You've got talent," Kiba said, offering him a bottle of water. "Rough, unshaped, but talent all the same."
Haru took the bottle with a grateful nod. "It's like trying to sculpt a mountain with a spoon."
"You'll get there," Rias said. "And you'll need to. Word's spreading. The factions are watching."
That night, Haru lay on his dorm bed, staring at the ceiling. The room was quiet—only the soft hum of mana in his veins keeping him company.
He raised his hand. His golden eyes flared slightly, and the air around his fingers shimmered. A coin floated from the desk and spun slowly in mid-air.
He could feel the strain now—the tension between power and will. Gravity answered him not like a servant, but like a storm tamed temporarily.
A knock at the door broke the silence.
He sat up. "Come in."
To his surprise, it was not Issei or Kiba—but Akeno.
She stepped in gracefully, holding a tray with tea and two cups.
"I thought you might like a break from the battlefield," she said, her voice warm as ever.
"Thanks," he said, motioning to the small table. They both sat.
For a moment, they sipped quietly. Then, Akeno's eyes softened. "You really don't know how attractive your energy is, do you?"
Haru choked slightly on the tea. "Excuse me?"
"Not just physically," she teased, though her expression became thoughtful. "You carry an aura… like starlight wrapped in thunder. It draws people in. Especially women. It's part of your bloodline. Son of the Moon, right?"
He sighed. "So I'm doomed to become a chick magnet whether I want it or not?"
"Pretty much," she said with a grin. "But there's more. I sensed it today. Your power—it's not fully awakened. Something's locked away."
"You think it's a second ability?" Haru asked.
Akeno leaned in. "I think it's your true lineage waiting to break free."
He met her gaze, uncertain. "And when it does?"
"You'll either rise to become something incredible…" she stood and turned, pausing in the doorway, "...or burn out like a falling star."
Then she left, leaving him alone with the cold tea and a heavy silence.
Elsewhere, in a dark cathedral cloaked in forgotten light, a woman knelt before a shimmering scrying mirror.
Raynare.
Her wounds had healed, but her pride remained shattered. Behind her stood a taller figure—black wings folded behind his back, arms crossed.
"She survived the boy's power," the man said, voice like gravel and venom. "Curious."
Raynare gritted her teeth. "His name is Haru Tsukihara. And he shouldn't exist."
The man's crimson eyes gleamed. "Then find out why he does. The Tsukihara line was erased for a reason. If one of them lives… the balance may shift."
Raynare bowed lower. "I'll handle it."
"You'd better. The White Dragon Emperor has been sniffing around Kuoh. The last thing we need is a second celestial wild card."
As she vanished into shadow, the man turned to the mirror once more, where Haru's glowing eyes flickered in the vision.
"Let's see what you become, boy of sun and moon…"
Back in Kuoh, Haru finally fell asleep.
He dreamed again—this time, of fire and water, of twin orbs in the sky. The moon glowing silver. The sun blazing gold. And in between them stood a lone figure.
Him.
The figure turned and spoke.
"Your flame is not yet born. But the stars remember."
Then darkness.