Some scars never fade. But sometimes, they don't have to.
A few days had passed since the mission to retrieve Kuroka. The Gremory estate was quiet. At least on the surface. Beneath the stillness, however, emotions stirred, and plans were already being drawn.
In the east wing, where the peerage members' rooms overlooked a gentle cherry blossom courtyard enchanted to bloom year-round, Kuroka lay on her new luxurious bed surrounded by healing sigils and misting spells. For the first time in years, she wasn't sleeping with one eye open. She could finally let her guard down.
⸻
The Reunion
Lucien stood just outside the room, giving Koneko a moment.
The younger Nekomata stepped through the doorway, hesitant and still carrying the weight of old ghosts. Her footsteps barely made a sound against the marble floor.
Kuroka's eyes opened the instant her sister entered.
"Shirone…"
Koneko stiffened. "Please don't call me that. I go by Koneko now."
Silence. Thick and heavy.
"I missed you," Kuroka whispered.
Koneko didn't answer immediately. She stood there, staring at her sister, old wounds flickering in her eyes like storm clouds on the horizon. But then… her voice cracked as tears fell from her eyes.
"But we would've been together, Kuroka," Koneko said, her voice breaking. "You said we would always be together because we're family… but you left me. If it wasn't for the Gremory clan, I would've died."
Kuroka closed her eyes, her breath catching. "I tried. I really did. But they were already watching you. If I'd taken you, they would've marked you too. You would have had the same label I carried — stray, traitor. Hunted. I thought leaving you would keep you safe."
Koneko shook her head, tears still falling. "You still left me."
Kuroka's gaze dropped to her hands. "You had a favorite bell. Wouldn't sleep without it. I still hear it sometimes…"
"I waited, you know… even after they told me you were gone. I kept hoping you'd come back for me."
"I'm sorry," Kuroka whispered, her voice tight with guilt. "I thought it was best… I thought you'd be safer without me."
Kuroka reached out, and in that moment the years of anger, fear, and loneliness between them cracked. She embraced Koneko tightly, both sisters crying over their shared pain.
Outside, Lucien remained still, listening—but not intruding. A quiet warmth bloomed in his chest, unexpected and unfamiliar. Hope. Healing. This was what he'd fought for.
Later, when Koneko stepped out, her eyes were red and misty, her expression solemn. She gave Lucien a silent nod. He returned it, then stepped inside.
⸻
The Question
"You look like hell," Kuroka smirked.
"Funny. I was going to say you clean up nicely for a stray."
She rolled her eyes. "So what now, Gremory boy?"
Lucien crossed the room and paused by the window, watching the enchanted wind dance through glowing petals.
"For now? You rest. Heal. Reconnect with your sister. Teach her what you can. Then, when you're ready… you'll join my peerage."
Kuroka's ears twitched. She opened her mouth, then hesitated — an uncharacteristic flicker of uncertainty in her amber eyes. For a moment, Lucien saw something raw and vulnerable beneath the teasing mask.
"You're that sure about me?" she asked softly.
"No," Lucien admitted. "But I believe in second chances. And you've earned it more than anyone."
Kuroka studied him for a long beat, then let the moment pass with a familiar smirk. "I could get used to this view. You're easy on the eyes."
Lucien chuckled. "Careful. Say stuff like that and my hell mom might start seeing you as competition."
Kuroka blinked. "Serafall Leviathan?"
"Yeah."
Her grin sharpened, all cocky Nekomata once more. "Then she'd better bring her A-game. I play for keeps."
A sudden, irrational chill ran down Lucien's spine. Somewhere in the estate, he was certain Serafall just sneezed.
⸻
Elsewhere — The Old Devil Faction
Far away, in the scorched remains of a forgotten citadel buried within a dimensional fold, a shadowed council gathered. Cloaked figures surrounded a flickering projection of Kuroka's failed capture.
"She was retrieved by the Lucifuge heir," one snarled.
"And protected by him," another hissed. "Grayroad… the one we missed."
"Impossible. We wiped out his entire bloodline—every cursed blade, every silent monk. The clan of shadows should be extinct."
"They were the Lucifuge's hidden blades," spat a third. "Boasting of unmatched stealth and sorcery. Arrogant to the end—but deadly. They fell only because we brought down an entire mountain to bury them and lost a lot of manpower to end them."
"We thought we ended them. But somehow, the child survived."
"And now he guards her—like they once guarded the Lucifuge princess. The old blood oath must have passed to Grayfia."
"She made him her blade," another said coldly. "Trained him in silence, hidden in the folds of war. A living shadow. Silent. Loyal. Deadly."
"And now… she's given him to her son."
"They're a matched pair," the eldest rasped. "The mother, the frost queen with the mind of a tactician. And the boy… something new. Unshaped. Unyielding. Dangerous."
"Then we must finish what we started."
"No. We failed once. We won't get another chance."
"Project Chimera must continue," a voice whispered. "But Lucien Lucifuge must be divided. Isolated. Or he will become worse than his mother."
"Worse?" a voice sneered. "He'll unite the broken bloodlines and bury us beneath the weight of legacy."
"And if Grayroad stands beside him…"
"Then this time," the eldest whispered, "we die for real."
⸻
Courtyard of the Gremory Estate
As the sun dipped below the Underworld's crimson skyline, the family gathered in the courtyard. Rias leaned against Lucien, half-teasing, half-sincere.
"You always throw the house into chaos."
He grinned. "It's a gift."
Sona, seated across the chessboard, studied him carefully. "I think your 'gift' is more calculated than you let on."
Grayfia returned with a tray of tea, graceful as ever. "He's growing into the role he was born for."
Lucien raised a brow. "Any chance that role comes with less training?"
Sirzechs, sipping his tea, scoffed. "I'm increasing it tenfold."
Everyone groaned—except Kuroka, who laughed. "You'll thank him later."
⸻
The Garden at Dusk
Later that evening, Lucien sat alone by the glowing pool in the training gardens, the soft light casting ripples across the dark water. Sirzechs approached, his steps quiet on the stone path.
"You've set things in motion that the rest of the world will take years to catch up to," his father said.
Lucien didn't look up. "You sound like you're planning something."
"I am," Sirzechs smirked. "You'll be receiving your Evil Pieces soon and if you're going to build a peerage, you'll need a proper partner."
Lucien narrowed his eyes. "What did you do?"
"Your comment about tails."
Lucien groaned. "I was joking."
"Well, one house is a noble succubus clan, the other's a devil-dragon hybrid family. The head of the succubus clan is a woman named Vermeil. Formidable. Sharp. Dangerous."
"And the dragon?"
Sirzechs' eyes gleamed. "She'll be your strongest support. Her heritage is… very impressive."
Lucien tilted his head, but his father simply patted him on the shoulder.
"You'll thank me when you're older."
"…Doubt it."
⸻
The Weight of Legacy
Long after his father left, Lucien remained in the courtyard, the fading twilight casting long crimson shadows across the obsidian stones.
His thoughts weren't on Kuroka, or the Old Devil Faction, or even the ridiculous idea of a tail-themed harem.
No, his thoughts were heavier than that.
He stared up at the sky, where the stars barely pierced the blood-red firmament.
Rias was the heir to the Gremory name. That had been decided before he'd even been born. Lucien had never resented it. They'd grown up together, sharing laughter, secrets, and rivalries. On paper, aunt and nephew. In truth, siblings in spirit.
But he… he was Lucien Lucifuge. The only male heir to a dying line.
That made him something different.
It made him necessary.
The only son of Grayfia Lucifuge.
The last chance to carry the ancient blood forward.
He watched the stars—distant, faint, struggling to shine through the weight of legacy.
And Lucien… felt the same.