"Yo."

"As blunt as ever, eh?"

Above the skylines and glimmering lights of Chiba, a lone male figure is sitting at the edge of a building's rooftop railings. His legs dangle over the edge, swaying in a rhythmic motion despite the current position he is in. After all, no normal person will be nonchalant or at ease as he is; sitting at the edge of a roof like that.

Well, sorry to disappoint, but he's anything but normal.

He appears to be a young man, no older than his late teens - looking the right age to be considered 17 or even 19 if stretching it. In other words, he appears older than he actually is; a fact that has been told to him quite often, from acquaintances and family alike.

Dressed in a loosely done school uniform, he does not look out of the ordinary. Other than the fact that he is currently sitting at the edge of the roof of a skyscraper. He has a canvas bag on him, strapped to his back, no doubt containing his school supplies and then some.

If he had been given the chance to drop off his things, he would have done so. However, someone is just too eager to speak to him.

Said 'someone' also happens to be the same person he is currently speaking over the phone with.

"Hm. You know me." His facial expression shifts to that of discomfort. Even after all this time, he is still not used to the voice filter that his contact uses. "And do you really have to sound like that? It's been, what, five years since we've been doing this? Don't you trust me a little bit by now?"

Oh, he cannot care less about whether or not the person at the end of the line trusts him. In their line of work, trust is a blurry concept. To most, it means not killing them when they have their backs turned towards you. If you can honor this, then, you are pretty much a trustworthy person. To him, however, it's more than that.

"Can never be too careful. You know this." Despite the voice changing filter messing with how the voice sounded, the mood of the speaker is clearly conveyed. "With how convenient technology is becoming these days, there's no telling who could be listening to our conversations. I suggest you follow my caution. If not, at least appreciate it."

"Yeah, right." He sighs. "So, why the sudden invitation? You got my hopes up. Thought I'd finally get to see you face to face…" He is not lying, considering that the two of them have yet to see each other in person. "Here's hoping you're a cute girl and not some old dude in his middle ages."

A scoff can be heard coming from the other end of the phone line. "I won't say anything about that." He shrugs. "But enough with the jokes. I didn't call you all the way out here to just chat. Something came up; something big."

"How big?"

"At least Ruby Level."

He lets out a whistle. "Damn. So, what's the sitch?"

"People have been disappearing over the past few weeks, we all know that. The news, media blogs, independent journalism sites… they're all writing about it but all investigations lead to a dead end. The National Police are exhausting their resources; read a few of them and they're considering letting people from the private sectors take the lead on the investigations."

"And I suppose this is where we come in?"

"Not really." He cannot stop his eyebrows from raising. "We are still obligated to take the Vow of Secrecy. But we, unlike some of our brethren, never took the Vow of Silence. We can't let anyone know we're looking into this matter. Don't worry about missing out on the details though, I'm sending them to you via mail; they should be up after we finish this call."

His lips thin out to form a straight line. His eyes - looking like a pair of eyes belonging to a dead fish - gaze around the surrounding buildings, taking in the sight, as he leans forward slightly.

"So what's the end goal here? You want me to find whoever's responsible for the disappearances?" He asks, voice becoming increasingly curious.

"Yes."

"Okay." He nods. "So… who's the client?"

"..."

His tongue laps out his mouth, lubricating his drying lips. "Wolf?"

"The client's-"

The client's name is spoken. And with it, he nearly drops his phone.

"Oh…"

"...I understand if you don't want to accept this mission. I can always get another to do-"

"Don't." He said, his voice clipped. "I'll handle this. How much is the client paying?"

"Indefinite. It depends on the outcome of the assignment."

"And what's the most desired outcome?" he asks, looking upwards, this time to look at the starless skies and that pale, circular dish floating in the sky.

"The arrest of the one responsible for the disappearances and anyone involved… as well as the proof of the client's innocence in the whole matter."

This time, his sigh comes out heavier than before. "This is looking up to be one troublesome assignment." He gripes, his tone carrying a little bite to it.

"You're my best go to choice for this job, Hawk. I could've given it to Panther or Cat but you're the first person that came to mind; your relation to the client be damned."

"Hm." He grunts, shaking his head. "I'm flattered. Heard you don't give those often… at least that's what Panther told me." His usual snark and cheek returns, along with it, a chuckle.

"...I'm going to have a talk with that woman one of these days."

"Heh. You do that, Wolf." He says. "Anything else I should know about?"

"No. But remember, Hawk, no one can know we're involved in this. It's bad enough that people are disappearing. But what's worse is that a few of those missing people belong to the Organization. They won't be too happy knowing that an outsider's snooping around matter where they don't belong."

"Oh? Even if it's to find whoever's responsible for this whole mess?"

"The Organization promised huge rewards to their members if they could find anything about the disappearances. I'll even go as far as to say that they're taking it personally."

"Hm… you have to tell me more about that."

"As I've said, it's all in the report. That is all."

He grunts, hearing the line being cut off. Pocketing his phone, he then adjusts his Airpods. True to their words, a notification ringtone rings through his Airpods, indicating that his dossier has been sent.

He can stay here and read the reports now, but he decides that he has enough of the outside air. Propping himself up on the railing - an incredible feat of balance - he tightens the straps of his bag. Looking down, he takes the sight of busy traffic and pedestrians currently going about their usual nightly routine.

Any normal person will definitely feel uneasy or even downright afraid if they're put on the spot he's in.

But like it's been said before, he's not a normal person.

As if to prove this point, he leans forward, letting his body bank forward on its own; gravity doing its thing.

Then, he jumps.

[what'supdangerdotmp3]

He feels the rush of air around him. The way his body is falling provides little to no resistance at all, much to the irk of all skydivers in the world, he's sure. The fast-paced rap opening of the song he is listening to echoes in his head. Eyes closed so as to not get something in his eyes, he then stretched both of his arms apart, imitating the wingspan of the animal his name is based off on.

At this exact moment, time seems to have slowed down. He opens his eyelids again, realizing that he's moments away from hitting the ground. To anyone watching - if they even can in the first place - it might seem like he's going to die. No questions asked.

But that is not the case.

"Scatter!"

A bright, neon blue glow surrounds his body. In a blink of an eye, he vanishes, leaving behind nothing but glowing blue dust to be carried in the wind.

His orientation is in disarray. For a moment, he felt light. Lighter than any matter in the world. This is just the effect of using Teleport. A fairly simple but very convenient spell that he sometimes uses. One of the few he has in his arsenal. It allows for short to long-distance teleportation. It requires the user to think of the place they want to reappear in and as long as certain requirements have been met, it will then teleport them to their destination.

He lands on his feet, naught a single scratch on him. As soon as he opens his eyes, he's greeted to the sight of a familiar door. His front door, specifically. Why not just reappear inside the house, you might ask? The thing with Teleportation is that just about anyone with magical prowess can do it.

If it's a first-timer performing the spell, they might screw up the calculations and end up in his house. Or worse, if it's a rogue magic user, they might use it for malicious intent.

Which is why he has erected magical barriers around his house which prevents anything like that from happening. Fishing out his keys from his breast pocket, he unlocks the front door and enters his house before shutting the door lock again.

"Good. No one noticed."

"Onii-chan."

Nothing in life scares him all that much. Not anymore.

But the sound of a pissed off little sister? That's one of the fears he has on his list.

Turning around, 'Onii-chan' comes face to face with a visibly upset younger girl. This girl, his little sister, bears some striking resemblance to him. The most obvious one is the ahoge on her head, currently swishing back and forth in indignation as if it has a mind of its own. What makes his skin crawl is not the angry kitten look she's giving him, nor is it the knife she has on her hand.

It's the fact that she's wearing her apron. Still wearing her apron, he corrects.

"Yo, Komachi." He's fully aware of how pathetic he sounds at the moment.

"Onii-chan." His little sister's words are not particularly harsh. It just sounds like she's talking to him like he's worth at least two bags of dirt. "Didn't I tell you to call me if you're coming home late?"

"Well, yes, bu-"

"This is not the first time, you know, Onii-chan." She effectively shuts him up. Only a handful of people can do that. All of them happen to be women. "I tried calling you earlier, but it says that you're on another call. Care to share about that, Onii-chan?"

The big brother of the household swallowed the lump of air that has been building in his throat. "Um… can we talk about this during or after dinner? I'm a little hungry…" he internally whimpers, praying to whatever god or deities out there to absolve him from the moment.

Luckily for him, his prayer is answered. "Fine. But can you at least tell me why you're home late?" asks his sister, this time looking a little less fierce than she was moments ago.

"Got an important call for a job." he briefly explains, walking over to their dining table and then setting his bag down on the empty chair beside him, while his sister takes the spot opposite to him.

"Another job…" If he is any lesser man, he would not have caught the words coming out of his sister's mouth. "Is it… you know…" his sister's voice trails off.

Before he is about to dig into his food, a plate of curry and rice with sliced beef and root vegetables of his sister's choice, he nods.

"I see." There is no hiding the frown on her face. Even after finally calming down - ridding herself of the knife, thankfully - worry surfaces almost immediately. "Ne, Onii-chan, can I-"

"No." In the middle of bites, he manages to let out this one word firmly. Setting down his spoon for a moment, he addresses his sister, "The answer will always be the same. No."

"But why?" His sister shots up immediately. "I'm already 14, Onii-chan, I'm not a kid anymore!"

Although his face says otherwise, he has to say it anyway. "I know. But you know how dangerous it can be out there. What I do… it's not something that people consider easy; even by magic user standards. This job, especially, is a hard one."

His little sister's eyes flare wildly, threatening to burst. A myriad of colors flashes through the surface, dyeing it red, blue, pink and many more. Seeing this causes him to tense up. He has one of his hands under the table, charging a spell that hums silently.

Soon after, the house begins to shake. Everything around them is, to put it bluntly, 'out of whack'.

The furniture is shaking, the lights are flickering and most if not all electrical appliances in the house are flickering between on and off. These are all triggered due to the sudden burst of magical energy coming out of Komachi. She, alone, can cause this. How? Let's just say that she is somewhat of a special case.

"Komachi." He tries calling her, hoping to snap her out of her stupor. "Komachi!"

Realizing that his calls are falling upon dead ears, he proceeds with plan B.

Raising the hand he has kept hidden under the table, he makes a flicking motion directed towards his sister. A glittery and almost dust-like effect shot out of his hand, hitting Komachi straight on the face. She visibly recoils, but not enough to fell her to the floor.

"Calm down Komachi." He whispers, leaning forward towards his sister. "Calm down. Don't lose control. Remember what we practiced." he clasps his hands on her shoulders, rubbing it in comforting gestures. "Release the output steadily, then stabilize any residual mana with the surroundings. It's not hard to do, Komachi, we're in the house."

"R-Release… output…" murmurs the young girl. "Stabilize… residual… with surroundings…"

"Yes, Komachi, that's it." He encourages, feeling the spike of magical energy that Komachi has caused earlier receding. The furniture around them is no longer acting as if they're possessed by a poltergeist, so that's a relief.

Her eyes, too, are no longer out of whack. The spell he casts earlier, [Somnus], helps calm her down. He's not proud to admit it, but he has used that spell on his sister more than what he's comfortable with. He normally uses it on people who cannot be reasoned with; i.e stubborn guards or nosy police officers. To think he's even grouping his precious little sisters with those he considers his adversaries… ugh.

"Easy does it, Komachi." He reassures her, backing away with the intention of approaching her directly. "Come now. Let's get you to bed… I'm sorry for being late. I should've called."

"It's… fine… Onii-chan." He hears her murmur in her drowsy state.

"Hm." He sighs. "Sleep for now, Komachi." [Somnus] is a spell that makes certain people easier to persuade. Meaning that Komachi falls asleep almost instantly the moment he suggests her to do so.

Well, seeing that she's pretty much asleep, he carries her up the stairs to her room. Setting her down on her bed, he pulls the cover over her body. Gazing down, he looks at her sleeping form.

"Oh, Komachi…" he cares for her. Cares for her more than he does himself… at least that's what they told him. His parents are away on business trips almost all the time, so she's pretty much the only one who is always there for him when he gets home after a long day of… life.

He will admit it, he has not been the best brother there is for her… and it's probably unfair to her since he considers her to be the best little sister there is in existence. But between his job and his duties as her guardian in the magical world, it's difficult to find time in the middle of it all for him to really act as her brother.

"Maybe one day, things will take a turn for the better, Komachi." He kneels down, placing a palm on his sleeping sister's forehead, rubbing it as gently as he can. "Until then, please, forgive me for being a shitty brother."

After one last look, he exits her room. Releasing bated breath, he walks through the halls and enters his own room. Nothing seems out of the ordinary superficially. A spartan room with a bed, a desk, a dresser and a bookshelf filled with the occasional novels and encyclopedia. Other than those, it's pretty much bare. No carpets or wallpaper.

He sits himself down on the mattress, setting down his bag so that he can dress down and turn in for the night.

"Oh. Almost forgot."

Taking off the blazer part of his uniform, he unrolls the sleeves of his white dress shirt. His arms are covered in tattoos - at least it might look that way to a normal person. The one on his right arm depicts the image of a thorny mess, embracing a Rosario; minus the depiction of Christ. The thorny vines coil and surround the cross in a suffocating gesture. If not for the red rose depicted in the middle of the cross, it might just come across as edgy. His left arm, on the other hand - ha, get it - depicts a far more sinister image. A burning skull with knives circling it and chain links coiling around the skull like a Boa constrictor.

Between the two, one might find the left one more disturbing. But to him, they're both useful tools in his trade.

"Seals, release."

Two guns appear in the grip of his hands.

His right holds a mighty revolver. A Model 500 Smith & Wesson Magnum revolver chambered in a massive .500 S&W Magnum cartridge. It is engraved in the same motif as the tattoo it is associated with; the cross and roses. Said tattoo, actually, is a complex magical sealing array he created to store this baby with.

The rounds chambered into the revolver are not normal rounds. They are silver-tipped rounds crafted by yours truly. Why silver tips? Let's just say that unlike your common thug, silver works better on magic related adversaries than your normal lead.

His left hand holds a smaller gun. But deadly, nonetheless. He loves the classic, even got called an old man a few times by those he worked with for using them. A Colt M1911 is a classic gun, as far as he's concerned. This particular model is of the A1 variety, so not as old as the original M1911. This piece, however, lacks the engravings that the other gun has.

This gun is just a normal gun. No fancy visual engravings or anything like that. On the surface, at least. Internally, it is imbued with magic from a sorcerer friend of his. In his words this gun can 'vanquish the minions evil' and 'pierce through unbroken illusions'.

Ignoring just how close he's getting on receiving a copyright for that last bit, there are runes etched to every part of this gun. The trigger, for instance, has a rune which makes it pretty much nonexistent; it's like pulling on air. No resistance or whatsoever. The barrel also has runes, one that increases the velocity of his bullets. The blowback mechanism too, so on and so forth.

"Maintenance, Hachiman, can never forget that."

He doesn't sleep much. No one in his line of work does. With that in mind, he uses any time he can get to perform maintenance on his tools; his guns mostly. And that is how he is going to spend the rest of the night on.

Polishing his guns.

And the report. Can't forget about that.

As a human being, he likes to think that whatever it is that he does - magic-related or otherwise - is normal. Despite bringing up countless times of how he is anything but so, he needs to blend in with those who are considered normal by society's standard. There is a term for people unaware of magic. But like most of the ones in fictional fantasy books, it carries a derogatory undertone with it.

"Ne, ne, Hikki, shall we go?"

"Hm."

By all definition, a creepy eyed, boring loner like him should not be walking around the halls of his school with a cute girl. But here he is, walking the halls of his school with one.

What?

He's got bad eyes, not blind.

He has acknowledged that his airheaded classmate falls into the category of 'cute girls'. This sentiment is shared by a lot of guys…

"Grr… look at that loner creep, what's he doing walking around with Yuigahama…"

"What?! Are they dating!? Dammit! Just when I was gonna confess to her…"

"Maruo, dude, you'll just get rejected again so sit your ass down."

"Feh, a girl like that is wasted on him anyways."

A lot of guys.

"Yuigahama. Can't we just meet in the clubroom separately?" Hachiman asks his walking companion in his humdrum voice of his. But that does not mean he can't make himself sound like the caustic ass he is. "You know, like usual?"

Yuigahama Yui, his classmate, is a pink-haired - no doubt dyed - girl who also happens to be in the same club he's in. Now, the reason that came to be is a hassle to recall. So he'll simplify things and say this and that happened and so here they are.

"Here we are indeed…"

"Hm? What was that Hikki? C'mon, Yukinon's waiting inside! We gotta meet up with Sai-chan later, so we'll need to use all the time we have now to do that assignment Hiratsuka-sensei gave us."

Straightening his posture, Hachiman enters the clubroom. He'll admit. He's still getting used to spending the after school hours in an unused classroom with two girls. Before he landed himself into this mess, he would do short patrols around the school grounds and the neighboring area. Like most mages, he has a territory to maintain. And like mages, he's pretty territorial.

Everything that happens in a mage's territory is their responsibility. Whether it's something as meager as helping a little kid get his ball stuck on the roof of a building or stopping a full-on large scale undead invasion, the mage is responsible for keeping the peace and making sure the secrecy of magic remains secret.

In his case, however, things are a little different.

Sobu High School is a neutral ground, but the surrounding neighborhood and pretty much the entirety of Mihama Ward - the ward where Sobu High is located - is Hachiman's Territory. Of course, it isn't like that. Mihama Ward used to be under the watchful eyes of another mage… but that is a story for another time.

"Yahallo Yukinon! Sorry, we're late, Hikki was being slow as usual."

"It's alright Yuigahama-san, it should be expected coming from him."

A few years ago and that might have stung. Marching over to his seat, ignoring the giggling of two girls as he does so, Hachiman plops down the chair while settling his bag down on the floor.

"It's good to know that you remain as stagnant as you were yesterday, Hikigaya-kun. It seems aside from your lack of basic social skill, you lack manners as well."

Or in normal people language, 'wow, you're a rude piece of shit, Hachiman.'

"My lack of greeting towards you does not equate to the lack of manners on my part. In fact, why don't you think long and hard about why you aren't greeted in the first place… Yukinoshita?"

A contrast.

Between Yuigahama Yui and Yukinoshita Yukino, the latter is undoubtedly more pragmatic. But as he has come to learn, she values concepts like feelings and morals among a few. She almost reminds him of the more 'straight to the point' mages out there, but he's constantly reminded that she is just an ordinary teenage girl in the end.

"Hm? Are you hoping to find the answer to your question by staring at me, Hikigaya-kun? Please don't do that. Frankly, it's a slight against nature; that creepiness of yours."

...okay, maybe she can be a bitch sometimes, but still, a teenage girl.

"Anyway, Hikki, let's do the assignments now!" Yuigahama, who is currently fishing through her bag for said assignment, urges him.

"You just want me to help you finish it when you'll eventually get stuck at page five." Hachiman speaks as if he's reciting the Gospel Truth. "Please do try to finish the work all by yourself first."

"...Uuuu… I-I will! Just see, I won't ask for help from you. Meany Hikki…" a pouting Yuigahama might be a cute sight. But it also means a quiet Yuigahama.

"You hear that, Yukinoshita? Want to make a bet on what page she'll get stuck on before eventually asking either of us for help?"

"Let's see. Pages three and above."

"Yukinon?!"

"Hm, okay. I'll bet she'll come crying for help as soon as she reads the first question."

"Mooou! You two suck so bad when you're in sync like this!"

"Loser has to buy snacks for a week straight." Hachiman lays down the term of their bet.

"Very well. I agree." Despite this, the club president has yet to pry her eyes from the book she is currently fixated on.

"C'mooooon you two…!"

Needless to say, Hachiman will be enjoying club hours a lot more for the next few days.

After they finish their assignment, which results in him finishing his assigned work and Yuigahama having to stop not even halfway through the darn book and finish the rest of it later at home; the trio decide to meet on the court after they change into a more appropriate attire. Now dressed in his green school-issued tracksuit, Hachiman closes his locker.

I'm out of my head
Of my heart and my mind
'Cause you can run but you can't hide
I'm gonna make you mine~

"Hikigaya. Talk."

Hearing his ringtone vibrate, he then raises his phone to his ear, answering the call.

"Hawk. You read the report?"

"Yeah. Read through some interesting stuff in there… say, are you busy anytime later today?"

"I'm free now. In fact, I'm calling you because I know you don't have classes for the rest of the evening."

Hachiman has the decency to scratch his cheeks. "Well, about that… you see, I joined a club."

"Hah? A club? Since when?" The tone, despite the active voice changing filter, conveys the exasperation of the speaker very well.

"Since a few days ago," Hachiman replies, toying with the zipper of his tracksuit with his free hand.

"I didn't know that…" Hachiman has the feeling that he isn't supposed to hear that part. "Well, nothing can be done about it. So, what is it you're going to ask me?"

"Nothing. I just want to go over a few things mentioned in the report… particularly about the victims." Hachiman clarifies his reasoning. "Wasn't fully aware of the exact number of disappearances… but twenty people in just a few weeks? No wonder everyone's getting paranoid."

"Heh. You tell me. Word is, even the Organization is tightening up on how they run their operations. Rule of Three, no excessive use of high resonance spells and, from what I've seen, no loose ends."

Hachiman grunts. "Hm… oughta be more careful whenever I'm out on patrol, then."

"Oh no. As long as you're just fulfilling your duties as a Guardian, they won't give you any trouble. But… you know how things can get out there in the field."

A snort. "Yeah, I do. Also, another thing."

"What is it?"

"Our client." His lips are getting dry. "Are the allegations made against her true?"

"..." Wolf's lack of response does not bring comfort to Hachiman. But he's been in this job for ten years now, so it isn't as nerve-wracking. "...as far as the evidence suggests, they can't help but pin the whole thing on her."

Unknown to Wolf, Hachiman grips his phone even tighter.

"You've read the MOs. People missing in the Greater Tokyo Area from places like their own homes. All females."

A pause.

"All magic users."

"Yes… the residual magical energy that magical investigators managed to gather on the victims' last known location." Hachiman recalls. "It all belonged to the victims… but none from our perpetrator."

"True," Wolf confirms with morose. "And the only mage we know who is skilled enough to pull something like that is none other than… well, you know who."

"..." Hachiman has to think first before he speaks. Inwardly, his brain and heart are having an argument. But he reminds himself that he's pretty much accepted the job and only one organ has total reign on the matter. "...have our client taken any actions?"

"With other mages, magical mercenaries, and Elite Enforcers ready to put a bag over her head the moment they find anything that clues to her presence? No. She can't do much."

"Which is why she came to you, Wolf." Hachiman concludes, arms crossed. "Judging by how this conversation is going, you're not going to tell me her location?"

"I'm sorry, Hawk. And even if I want to, I can't. She made me sign an Oath." Hachiman grunts. "But… I'll say this, though."

Hachiman listens in.

"I don't think she's responsible for causing those disappearances. Involved, maybe, but definitely not our main perpetrator. Why? Because I've noticed several things that might seem more than what they appear to be."

Glancing at the clock nailed to the wall inside the locker room, Hachiman says, "Then you'll have to tell me all about it later. I've got club activities to attend."

"I see. At the usual time?"

"Hm."

"Alright. Good luck on the road, Hawk."

"You too, Wolf."

Putting his phone away has never felt so hard. He wants to talk with Wolf for a bit more, but he's delayed enough. Yukinoshita is going to be pissed, there's no avoiding that, but at least he gets to set several things straight with his informant.

Walking out of the locker rooms, Hachiman has his racket inside the duffel bag he's carrying on a sling. Making his way towards the court, the view of an annoyed Yukinoshita Yukino is just perfect enough to not make him feel bad for arriving late.

"Ah, Hikki you're late!" Of course, Yuigahama is the one vocal enough to shove it into his face.

"Your tardiness reflects the club poorly, Hikigaya-kun." With her arms crossed and her tennis racket on the side, Yukinoshita is giving him a glare worth the entire winter. "So, what's your reason?"

"I had to make a call." Hachiman says, his infamous slouch on full display. "She wasn't feeling very well today so she's staying at home. I called to check up on her."

Hearing his reasoning, which is only half a lie on his part, seems to have chipped away at Yukinoshita's cold fury. No longer looking at him like he's a piece of trash, Yukinoshita directs her attention to the main focus of the day.

"Very well. Now that we're all here, Totsuka-kun, shall we begin?"

Totsuka Saika.

Another classmate of his, apparently.

Dyed silver hair, small frame, doe like grey eyes… the perfect living example of a cute girl. But there's one huge problem…

...Totsuka's a dude.

"Yes!"

But just because he's a dude, it does not mean what Hachiman has said before is false. In fact Hachiman will go as far as to say that all the traits are enhanced just by this fact alone.

"Then, Hikigaya-kun." Yukinoshita addresses the fish-eyed loner. "We'll do the usual."

"A singles game between Totsuka and either of us and then followed by a doubles match between Totsuka and I versus you and Yuigahama… yeah, got it."

As the orange-hued evening sun settles in to end the day, the residents of the Moonlit World stirs awake. Not to bring up old cliches and the likes, but things do go bump at night. Rogue mages, greedy mercenaries, overzealous cultists… they all go by different names, but one thing remains the same.

At the end of a Slayer's gun, they all go bump when their bodies hit the floor.

Next Time On My Teenage Slayer Life SNAFU

"You're not in this alone, Hawk. You got me, Wolf and Cat to rely on. Please. Rely on us."

Caught off guard by the sudden embrace of highly feminine arms, Hachiman stifles the urge to lash out. His decision to not do anything against his current predicament, lands him on a rather… familiar spot.

By the gods he can smell her. And smell her real good he does.

But… he stops himself.

"...I chose to walk this road alone, Panther. Hell, we all do."

A flick to the forehead prompts him to look at his oftentimes partner straight in her eyes. Her ruby red eyes.

"But no one says anything about fighting alone."

"So you're the Slayer who's in charge of this territory… I thought the Organization would have already sent someone to take care of you at this point. Oh well. I'll have the pleasure of doing their job for them."

The Hawk watches from his perch, his revolver cocked and loaded.

"Haaa… you magicians sure are a talkative bunch."

"And you're too quiet to our liking, birdy."

True to his name, he swoops down, talons drawn.

"Hawk… no, Hikigaya… don't look for me."

"But-!"

"Don't. You know the rules. They'll hunt you down too."

"... Oi… it seems you've forgotten, old friend,"

Dead-fish eyes morph into those of a predator's. No longer stagnant and bleak. But deadly and violent.

The Slayer's red eyes glow dangerously.

"I am the hunter."

Welcome to my new story after a very, very long absence on this site. Now I'm not going to go into details about what happened to me in the long years of absence. Let's just call it life.

But, back to this story, this will be my first serious story in a long time. And it will be the only story I focus on from now on. So you can consider my other, older stories on hiatus or even just abandoned. I won't delete them just for the sake of archiving purposes.

Now, just to lay down a few information; this story is a pretty weird one. It all started when I got into playing the game The Witcher 3 a few years back. At that point, I was very into things that have a fantasy setting; from games, manga, anime you name it. Then, even more interesting series come up; like Goblin Slayer to name one of them. I won't lie to you. These two series were what inspired me to start writing again in the first place, so you're going to see a lot of similar motifs or even references to them in this story.

And as to why I'm using My Teenage Romcom SNAFU as the main setting? Well, I've been following the series from all the way back in13. I got to read most of the original source materials and am awaiting the upcoming season 3 anime. But herein lies the problem that some of you might not like.

I won't be following SNAFU canon, Witcher canon or even Goblin Slayer canon all that much. This story will be loosely based on the latter two series, and while it uses the characters and settings of SNAFU, it will go along its own path. So don't expect any faithful true to source material interpretation of the characters you are about to see.

Even Hachiman himself is OOC, so the other characters will be pretty much be given the same treatment to a degree.

Now that I've explained this, I hope you guys don't mind me putting this story on the non-crossover section of the SNAFU archive here on. This is done just for convenience's sake.

Well, with all that said, I've pretty much said all there is to be said. It's good to be back, despite the morbid real-life events currently taking place in the background, and to those of you who have been waiting patiently for any form of content from me, thank you kindly for waiting even after all this time.

Stay safe, stay healthy.

EDIT: Just changed one very short stanza. If you can spot it, you're a gem.