Who would have thought I'd be this good at cooking?
Damon Allister stood over the stove, his golden hair catching the light as he expertly flipped a sizzling steak with a flick of his wrist. The flames beneath didn't burn like ordinary fire—they were blue. With a slight smirk, he tasted the sauce he had just finished making, his red eyes scanning the contents with critical precision.
"Delicious," he said, almost to himself, his voice dripping with arrogance. "Well, it's only natural. I did make it."
He added a few final touches—just a dash of seasoning, the perfect plating—and then admired his work. A king, even in the kitchen, could not accept anything less than perfection. The steak, now resting on a plate garnished to perfection, looked almost like a work of art.
He sat down at the table, picking up his fork with casual grace. His gaze lingered for a moment on the simple apartment around him—the one place where he could finally take a breath and not feel the weight of the world pressing against his shoulders.
"Not bad for a king who was supposed to conquer the heavens, huh?" he muttered, cutting into the steak and taking a bite. "I could rule any kingdom with this skill."
The taste? Flawless. Naturally.
He leaned back, savoring the moment, but his mind briefly wandered back to the life he had left behind—the Church, the prophecy. The peace he had found here in Kuoh was fleeting. Soon enough, they'd find me again. He set down his fork, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "Let them come."
Damon finished his meal, pushing the plate aside with a satisfied grin. He wiped his mouth, stood up, and stretched with the grace of someone who knew no fatigue.
"Time for school," he muttered, the words almost foreign coming from his lips. Normal teenage life, here I come.
He glanced at his reflection in the nearby window—his golden hair falling perfectly around his sharp features, the crimson eyes gleaming with a confidence that could shatter kingdoms. Today, he was just another student in Kuoh Academy, with no prophecy on his shoulders, no divine fire to wield. Just a normal, teenage boy.
The outfit was... acceptable. A black shirt, black pants, and a white hoodie. His uniform? Still in the mail, apparently.
"Pathetic," he sighed, shaking his head. "I am a king, and I have to wear this." He shot a look at his sneakers, as if they personally offended him.
But still, he put them on and walked out the door . The morning sunlight kissed his face, and for a moment, he almost forgot—no. He couldn't forget.
His footsteps echoed down the street as he made his way toward the school, the ever-present feeling of being watched tugging at the back of his mind. The Church would find him eventually, as they always did.
But for now, the streets of Kuoh felt like the only safe place he had—the only place where he could pretend to be normal.
Damon walked toward his new school, his hands casually tucked into his pockets. His steps were slow, measured, as if the world was merely a stage for him to walk upon. His eyes narrowed as he approached Kuoh Academy, the towering gates coming into view.
But as he drew closer, something felt... different. The air, charged with a strange, almost sinister energy.
Devils.
A smirk tugged at Damon's lips. He could feel their presence even before he saw them—the faint, almost imperceptible pulse of demonic auras. He'd encountered plenty in his time, from the fallen angels to the more powerful devils who'd tried to claim him as an asset. They were here, now, in the midst of his "normal" life.
He couldn't help the amusement that spread across his face. Perfect.
"Who would go searching for the 'chosen one' in a place like this?" Damon thought, his voice practically dripping with arrogance.
Damon glanced down at his wrists, where two simple bracelets adorned his arms. They looked unassuming—nothing more than leather and metal—but in truth, they were gifts from his greatest treasure.
With a swift, subtle motion, he activated them. A faint hum of energy surged through his body. The magic embedded within the bracelets was enough to cloak his true aura and mask it completely. For now, he would appear just like any other student in this academy.
With these, they won't sense my power. I'll be nothing more than a normal transfer student.
He grinned. For now.
"Time to start my day."
With that, Damon stepped through the gates, a lone figure among the sea of oblivious students. If anyone knew the truth about him, the "chosen one" and the prophecy, they'd be on their knees begging him for favors—or they'd be lying in a pool of their own blood. But today? Today, he was just another face in the crowd.
Damon walked through the halls of Kuoh Academy, heading toward the student council office. The letter he had received was clear: "Present yourself to the student council. A girl named Sona Shitori will provide you with all necessary information."
He arrived at the door of the office and paused for a moment before knocking lightly. Before he could even lift his hand again, the door swung open.
A tall girl with dark hair stood in the doorway, her expression as cool and composed as a statue. She looked him up and down for a moment before speaking.
"Do you have any business with the student council?" she asked, her voice flat and formal.
Damon blinked, momentarily taken aback. First time someone's talked to me like that, he thought, raising an eyebrow. But it didn't faze him. He flashed his signature grin.
"I'm new," he replied smoothly, his tone confident and casual.
At his words, a voice from inside the room called out, "Tsubaki, let him in." The tall girl—Tsubaki—stepped aside, and Damon entered the room.
Inside, there was a short girl sitting behind a desk, her dark hair framing her delicate face. Her gaze shifted toward him as he entered, and her eyes seemed to flicker with a hint of recognition.
"You must be Damon Allister," she said, her voice calm but holding a certain authority.
Damon smiled, walking further into the room and leaning casually against the desk. "That's me," he replied smoothly. "I guess the beauty in front of me must be Sona Shitori, then."
Sona's cheeks flushed lightly, and she cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure. "W-Well, thank you," she stammered, clearly not used to such a direct compliment.
Damon's grin widened as he leaned back slightly, his red eyes glimmering with a playful gleam. This is going to be fun.