[ Sullivan's Mansion – Evening]
The moment Iruma stepped through the front door, a blur of white and gold launched toward him.
"Iruma-Kun!! Welcome home—again!!" Sullivan cried, arms outstretched.
Before Iruma could dodge, he was scooped into a crushing hug.
"This is the seventh time you've done this…" Iruma muttered, voice flat but not unkind.
Opera, standing nearby with arms crossed, gave a rare small smirk.
"He insisted. Again."
Streamers floated down from the ceiling, and another massive banner reading "Welcome Home After-Party!" glittered over the living room.
"Technically," Sullivan added with a proud twinkle, "this one is the after-party to the after-party! Themed edition!"
Iruma sighed softly but didn't resist. Deep down, it warmed something in him—a quiet corner that had long forgotten such affection.
"Tch… old man," he said under his breath. But even Ali-san, materializing as a misty shadow behind him, caught the flicker of contentment in his eyes.
[ Iruma's Room – Moments Later]
Iruma leaned against the door, exhaling. The quiet buzz of party music played faintly downstairs.
He sat on the edge of his bed, holding his phone, thumb hovering above the screen. Iruma's calm demeanor cloaked his nerves, but the hesitation in his fingers betrayed the truth.
I've never invited anyone to my house before... not like this.
He stared at the message draft:
"You two are invited. Come if you want."
Ali floated above his head, grinning.
"Wow. That's romantic. Your girlfriend's going to love it."
"Clara's not my girlfriend," Iruma said coolly.
"And Ameri is coming too, right? Maybe a love triangle, hmm?"
Iruma clicked send just as Ali teased again. He immediately glared up at him.
"Tch. You startled me. Again?"
Ali laughed, "You were going to send it anyway, you coward."
Ping!
---
Two replies came almost instantly.
Alice:"Understood. I'll be there shortly."
Clara:"WAAA I'M COMIN RIGHT NOW!!! (ฅΦωΦ)ฅ♡"
---
Iruma stood, slowly pacing his room. His eyes scanned the floor, then the desk, then the disheveled blanket on his bed.
They're coming here… to my space.
Something about that felt… intimate. Vulnerable, even.
Ali floated behind him and whispered, "You should clean up if you want to impress her."
"I told you… it's not like that."
Still, Iruma grabbed the vacuum.
[ Front Entrance – A Bit Later]
Ding-dong.
Iruma moved swiftly, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeves as he approached the door.
When he opened it, Alice stood tall and composed, while Clara practically bounced in place with a massive bag slung over her shoulder.
"Yo," Iruma greeted calmly.
"Iruma-sama," Alice bowed. "My mother sends her regards. She also made this."
He presented a neatly wrapped box with golden string.
"MY MOM SAYS HI TOO!! And THIS IS A HANDMADE—uh… something!!" Clara shoved an oddly-shaped, glittering gift toward him.
Iruma blinked.
"Thanks. Both of you."
He stepped aside, ushering them in. As they passed, his eyes softened briefly.
This wasn't a battlefield. It wasn't strategy or politics. It was… peace. A moment of normalcy in a world of demons.
And somehow, Iruma—now colder, sharper, but still Iruma—was learning to live in it. A bit much happy.
---
[ Sullivan Mansion – Dining Hall, Evening]
The long dinner table was filled with chatter, laughter, and the clinking of cutlery… all while everyone wore ridiculous novelty glasses. Even Opera, ever composed, sported a pair of star-shaped shades.
Iruma, in his typical reserved posture, sat between Clara and Alice. He didn't speak much, but the small, content smile on his lips said enough.
This… is nice, he thought, watching Clara trying to balance a spoon on her nose while Alice scolded her for improper dining posture.
Across from them, Sullivan stood suddenly, clapping his hands.
"Now then! To digest this wonderful meal, I propose a game!"
Opera raised a brow. "The new one?"
"Yes, yes!" Sullivan beamed. "Devil Dance Liberation! I ordered the premium rhythm pads!"
[ Mansion Recreation Room – Minutes Later]
The room pulsed with neon light as characters on screen performed wild dance moves. Each participant stood on their platform, following the game's rhythm-based commands.
Clara twirled like a maniac. Alice moved with stoic intensity. Opera was… terrifyingly precise.
Iruma, calm and calculated, moved rhythmically — not out of joy, but sheer focus and muscle memory. He wasn't aiming to win… he just didn't want to mess up.
When the final results flashed across the screen:
1st – Opera
2nd – Alice
3rd – Clara
4th – Iruma
5th – Sullivan
"NOOOOO!" Sullivan dropped to his knees. "I'm last?! My dignity as a grandpa… and chairman… in tatters! Sorry My precious!"
"Hehh..."
Iruma crossed his arms, expression slightly Laughing.
"You didn't keep up. Accept the result."
Clara clapped. "Yay! You weren't last, Iruma-kun!"
"…That's not much of a compliment."
Opera clapped once. "Shall we move to dessert?"
But Sullivan, standing up with sudden dramatic flair, raised a finger.
"No! I refuse to be forgotten as a loser! I propose… one last game: Dark Parade!"
[ Sullivan Mansion – Underground Staircase]
With torches lit and an eerie ambiance, the group descended deeper into the mansion's lower levels.
Alice took point, walking beside Iruma and explaining the rules in a low tone.
"Dark Parade is a game of courage. The objective: reach the closet at the bottom of the stairs… without flinching at any surprises."
Iruma raised an eyebrow. "So a scare test."
"Precisely."
Meanwhile, Clara skipped a few steps ahead, humming ominously to "fit the mood." Sullivan whispered gleefully to Opera, who looked… skeptical.
"This closet… it's just a closet, right?"
"Of course not! I've set up a dramatic scenario to impress Iruma-kun!" Sullivan whispered. "There's even a fearsome magical beast I dressed up just for this!"
Opera sighed. "You're hopeless."
[ Tunnel Path – Midway Through Descent]
As the group paused near a rusted gate, Sullivan slipped ahead, claiming he'd scout forward. Moments later, an ear-shattering roar echoed down the tunnel.
The group tensed. A massive shadow loomed… and then burst out.
A towering beast, armored in rags and shadows, lunged toward them—only to be immediately frozen in place.
Alice had summoned Gorgon Snake, its petrifying glare halting the creature.
Clara, not missing a beat, threw a handful of plush monsters, which exploded in confetti on contact.
"Nice teamwork, Valac." Alice nodded.
Iruma simply stepped forward, arms crossed.
"It's just one of Sullivan's pets."
Indeed, the creature ripped off its costume in panic, revealing a trembling magical beast underneath.
"Ah… I told it not to get too into character," Sullivan muttered from behind the beast.
Opera sighed again, arms crossed. "So much for your grand scheme."
Dejected, Sullivan slumped.
"…I just wanted to look cool for once in front of you all."
Iruma looked at him, silent. Then, with a gentle tone:
"Let's just keep going."
It wasn't much, but Sullivan's ears perked up.
"Iruma-kun… you do care…!"
"…Tch. Don't overthink it."
"Huh..So...C-o-l-d"
[ Sullivan Mansion – Secret Pathway's End]
The group trudged down the stone corridor, the air growing colder as they approached a towering set of ancient double doors. The atmosphere had all the tension of a final boss room.
Sullivan, lagging slightly behind, muttered under his breath with a heavy sigh.
"In the end… it's just a glorified closet…"
The grand doors creaked open, revealing a small, dusty room with old brooms, crates, and a suspiciously polished circular platform in the center.
Opera, arms folded, glanced at Sullivan.
"You dragged them all this way for this?"
"I didn't think they'd get this far so quickly! I thought I had time to improvise!" Sullivan whispered harshly.
He turned with exaggerated tears in his eyes.
"Opera… help me salvage this."
Opera exhaled through their nose, clearly unamused.
"Fine. But you owe me."
With a simple snap, the room dimmed. The torches along the walls flickered blue, and a low rumble filled the air.
From the shadows, a massive skeletal dragon rose, snarling and breathing spectral fire.
Clara gasped, grabbing Iruma's arm.
"Waaah! It's a mega undead dragon!"
Alice stepped forward, eyes analyzing.
"…That's a projection from the rhythm game earlier. They just reused the boss asset."
Iruma simply narrowed his eyes.
"…He's stalling."
Sullivan, striking a pose with glittering eyes, leapt forward dramatically.
"Stand back, children! Witness the true power of a devoted grandfather!"
Charging at the illusory dragon, he let out an over-the-top battle cry.
"GREATEST GRANDFATHER ATTACK: FINAL JUDGMENT!"
With a flash of magical light and a puff of smoke, the dragon exploded into colorful sparkles. In its place sat a small treasure chest.
Clara opened it with a sparkle in her eyes.
"It's a fruit tart!"
Opera walked forward calmly.
"I made it earlier. Used the fruits Alice and Clara brought."
Iruma peered down at the tart. His expression didn't change, but his gaze softened.
"Looks good."
Sullivan tried to casually lean against the now-silent platform.
"Aha… see? I totally planned this. A perfect ending."
Clara raised a hand.
"So you asked Opera san to make the tart too?"
Alice shook his head.
"Mister Opera did all the actual work. The rest was just your theatrics."
Sullivan's shoulders slumped instantly.
"Why does my coolness always backfire…"
Iruma looked at him and, in a rare moment of dry humor, murmured:
"Maybe because you try too hard."
Sullivan sniffled in exaggerated grief.
Opera, arms crossed, gave Iruma an approving glance.
"…Still," Iruma said, eyes on the tart, "Thanks. It was fun."
Sullivan's ears perked up, tail wagging slightly behind him.
"Really?! You mean it?!"
Iruma turned away, feigning disinterest.
"…Tch. Don't make me say it again."