The Stray Devil encounter had solidified a few terrifying truths in Ren Takakura's mind: his strange powers were undeniably real, genuinely dangerous entities existed in his town, and his life was now irrevocably tied to this new, chaotic, and often painful reality that Reborn was relentlessly forcing upon him. The relative peace of his former school life, the simple comfort of his friendship with Kosaki Onodera, even his consistently antagonistic encounters with Chitoge Kirisaki, now felt like they belonged to a different world, a distant, almost dreamlike existence he was rapidly and unwillingly leaving behind.
The gang tensions in Kuoh Town, however, were a problem that seemed to bleed across both of these worlds, a mundane threat that was rapidly escalating. The Ryujin-kai and the Beehive Gang were making their presence felt more openly, their rivalry simmering just beneath the surface of Kuoh's everyday life, and it felt increasingly like it was only a matter of time before innocent bystanders got caught in the middle of their turf wars.
That time, as Ren was quickly learning to expect in his new life, came sooner rather than later. It was a few days after the harrowing night at the church. Ren was walking home with Kosaki – their study sessions had taken on an almost sacred importance for him now, a precious, if fragile, link to his previous, less insane life – when they once again, with an almost comical sense of bad timing, stumbled directly into a situation they shouldn't have.
This time, it wasn't just a couple of thugs in an alley. It was a full-blown confrontation in a slightly more open, but still relatively secluded, backstreet. About half a dozen Beehive thugs, looking mean and ready for trouble, were on one side of the narrow street. Facing them, a similar number of Ryujin-kai goons, equally aggressive, posturing and shouting. Weapons were starting to appear – heavy-looking pipes, baseball bats wrapped in barbed wire, and even the distinct, menacing glint of what looked like a knife in the fading afternoon light. The air was thick with aggression and the promise of imminent violence. It was about to turn very ugly, very fast.
"Oh no, not again," Kosaki breathed, her voice barely a whisper, her face pale with fright, her hand instinctively flying to Ren's arm.
Ren's protective instincts, now unfortunately familiar and almost second nature, flared instantly. Before he could even consciously think about it, before he could weigh the potential consequences (which, given his recent track record, were likely to be disastrous), he found himself stepping forward, placing himself between the two hostile groups and Kosaki. "Hey! Break it up!" he yelled, his voice cracking slightly with a mixture of adrenaline and sheer terror. What in the world was he doing? This was madness.
Both groups of gangsters turned to look at him, their aggressive posturing momentarily forgotten, replaced by expressions of surprise, then dawning amusement. "Well, lookie here, boys, it's a hero," one of the Beehive guys sneered, a gold tooth glinting in his mouth. "Get lost, kid, before you get seriously hurt," a burly Ryujin-kai member growled, hefting his pipe menacingly.
They started to advance, not on each other now, but on them, on Ren and Kosaki. This was bad. Very, very bad. Ren's Dying Will Flames weren't exactly reliable on command, especially not for controlled, non-lethal bursts. He braced himself, ready to try and shield Kosaki, his mind racing, searching for an escape, any escape.
And then, the orange light. It wasn't a massive, destructive blast like the one that had incinerated the Stray Devil, nor was it the concussive wave from the first alley encounter. This was different. It was more like… a pulse. A silent, invisible wave of pressure, of pure, unrefined Sky Flame harmony that just pushed. It wasn't overtly destructive, but it was enough to make everyone – Beehive and Ryujin-kai alike – stumble back a step, their movements suddenly clumsy, their aggressive energy deflating like a punctured balloon. They looked around, disoriented and suddenly very wary, their bravado faltering.
"What the hell was that?" someone muttered, looking at Ren with wide, uncertain eyes.
Just as Ren was trying to figure out how to de-escalate this volatile situation without anyone getting seriously hurt (or him getting arrested for… well, for whatever that had been), a familiar sleek black car screeched to a halt at the end of the street, its tires protesting loudly. Doors flew open, and out poured more Beehive members, these ones looking much more professional, more disciplined, and infinitely more dangerous than the street thugs currently facing them. And leading them, her blonde hair catching the late afternoon sun, was Chitoge Kirisaki, her expression a mask of cold fury. Beside her, a tall, severe-looking man with slicked-back dark hair and sharp glasses radiated an aura of quiet, controlled menace. This had to be Claude, her infamous bodyguard and, according to the persistent school rumors, Beehive's formidable second-in-command.
Chitoge's piercing blue eyes locked onto Ren, standing there somewhat awkwardly amidst the now dazed and confused gangsters, with Kosaki cowering slightly behind him. Her expression shifted rapidly from furious to… confused, then back to furious again, but this time with an added, dangerous layer of suspicion.
The Ryujin-kai members, seeing the Beehive reinforcements and their boss's daughter appear so suddenly, tensed up, clearly thinking this was a well-planned ambush and that Ren, with his inexplicable display of power, was somehow involved. "So, Beehive's got some new secret weapon, huh?" their apparent leader snarled, his gaze fixed on Ren with murderous intent.
Claude stepped forward, his movements smooth and economical, his gaze cold and assessing as it swept over Ren, then the assembled thugs, then back to Ren. The air crackled with palpable tension. A full-blown gang war, Ren realized with a sickening lurch in his stomach, was about to erupt right there in the middle of the street.
And then, Claude did something completely, utterly unexpected. He suddenly clapped his hands together, a single, sharp, decisive sound that cut through the tense silence. A strained, almost manic smile appeared on his usually severe face.
"My, my, what a delightful misunderstanding!" he declared, his voice smooth as silk but carrying an undeniable edge of steel. "Gentlemen, gentlemen! There's no need for such… unseemly aggression. You see, you've simply, and quite unfortunately, interrupted these two young lovebirds on their charming afternoon stroll!" He gestured dramatically, with a theatrical flourish, towards Ren and, to Ren's utter astonishment, Chitoge.
Wait. What? Ren stared at him, dumbfounded, his brain struggling to process the sudden, bizarre shift in narrative.
Chitoge looked like she'd been physically slapped. Her face paled, then flushed a brilliant crimson. "Claude! What in the world are you—?"
"This fine young man," Claude continued, cutting her off smoothly, his smile widening as he practically beamed at Ren in a way that was utterly terrifying, "is Young Mistress Chitoge's… boyfriend! Yes! Her devoted and cherished boyfriend! They were just enjoying a quiet, romantic moment together, weren't you, kids?" He actually winked at Ren. A wink that promised dire, unspeakable consequences if Ren didn't play along with this sudden, insane charade.
Boyfriend? Ren? With Chitoge Kirisaki? The girl who looked at him like he was something she'd accidentally scraped off the sole of her expensive shoe? The Ryujin-kai leader looked profoundly skeptical, his eyes narrowed. Kosaki, beside Ren, looked utterly bewildered, her gaze darting between Ren, Chitoge, and the smiling Claude. Ren felt like his brain had officially short-circuited and was now emitting smoke.
Reborn, who had, with his usual uncanny timing, appeared out of nowhere and was now perched on a nearby crumbling garden wall disguised as a particularly lumpy and disinterested stray cat (a skill Ren was slowly, painfully learning not to question), gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod in Ren's direction. The silent message was clear, even from a feline Reborn: Play along, Dame-Ren. This is an order. And this is excellent, Grade-A chaos.
"Uh… yeah!" Ren managed, his voice coming out an octave higher than usual, cracking embarrassingly. "That's… that's right! Me and… Chito-chan! Just… you know… strolling! Romantically!" He even attempted a shaky thumbs-up, a gesture that immediately felt like the single stupidest thing he'd ever done in his entire (current) life.
Chitoge looked like she was genuinely going to explode. Her face was rapidly turning a shade of red that clashed spectacularly with her blonde hair, and her fists were clenched so tightly her knuckles were white. But Claude shot her a look, a brief, almost invisible glance that nevertheless carried the weight of an unshakeable command, and she visibly swallowed whatever scathing, possibly profane, retort was on her lips.
The Ryujin-kai leader still looked deeply suspicious, his eyes darting between the Beehive members and the "happy couple," but the immediate threat of violence seemed to lessen, albeit fractionally. A bizarre, improbable high school romance, however unlikely, was a less direct provocation than the appearance of a new, unknown super-powered enforcer in Beehive's ranks.
"So," Claude said, his strained smile firmly in place as he addressed the Ryujin-kai leader, his tone all reason and conciliation. "A simple, if rather public, misunderstanding. Perhaps we can all just… call it a day? For the sake of young love, and continued civic peace?"
And just like that, under the combined threat of mutually assured destruction from the heavily armed gang members and the sheer, unadulterated absurdity of Claude's declaration, a tense, unspoken, and utterly unbelievable truce was formed. The two gangs grudgingly began to disperse, their members muttering amongst themselves and casting suspicious, confused glances back at Ren and a fuming, silent Chitoge.
Once they were gone, and the street was relatively clear save for their own group, Chitoge rounded on Claude, her voice a dangerous, trembling whisper. "What was THAT? Boyfriend? Are you certifiably insane, Claude?!"
"A necessary deception, Young Mistress," Claude said smoothly, his smile vanishing, replaced by his usual cool composure. "It prevented an immediate and very messy war. And now, for the sake of continued peace between our organization and the Ryujin-kai, this… arrangement… must be maintained. You two will be seen as a couple. Publicly. And, if necessary, affectionately."
Ren's jaw, which had been hanging slightly ajar, dropped completely. "Wait, maintained? You can't be serious! For how long?"
Reborn, now back in his usual baby form and standing beside Ren as if he'd been there all along, poked him sharply in the ribs with Leon, who had transformed into a tiny, surprisingly painful cane. "Excellent training in infiltration and long-term social maneuvering, Dame-Ren," the infant hitman said, his voice filled with an almost gleeful sadism. "And it provides you with a certain level of… shall we say, 'diplomatic immunity' from these particular gangs while you're still pathetically weak. Consider it your first extended field mission. Do try not to get yourself, or the Young Mistress, killed."
Ren was trapped. Utterly, hopelessly trapped. Trapped in a fake relationship with a girl who probably hated his guts more than anyone on the planet, all to prevent a gang war he'd accidentally stumbled into (twice!), a charade orchestrated by a sadistic baby hitman and a terrifyingly efficient, silver-tongued yakuza lieutenant.
As if that wasn't enough to process, just as Chitoge was about to unleash another torrent of surely well-deserved fury at Claude, another figure appeared, materializing from the shadows as if she'd been there all along. A girl, also in a Kuoh Academy uniform, but with short, boyish blue hair and an intense, focused gaze that seemed to miss nothing. She moved with a silent, deadly grace, positioning herself slightly behind Chitoge, her eyes fixed on Ren with an unnerving, analytical stare that made him feel like a particularly uninteresting specimen under a very powerful microscope.
"Young Mistress, are you alright?" she asked, her voice polite but cold as ice, betraying no emotion. "This… individual… he did not harm you?"
"This," Chitoge said through gritted teeth, gesturing vaguely and with considerable distaste in Ren's direction, "is apparently my new 'boyfriend,' Tsugumi. Try not to kill him. At least," she added, her eyes flashing dangerously at Ren, "not yet. We wouldn't want to upset the 'delicate balance of power,' now would we?"
Tsugumi. Seishirou Tsugumi. Chitoge's infamous bodyguard, the one rumored throughout the school to be a master martial artist and weapons expert despite being their age. Her unwavering, assessing gaze didn't leave Ren. It was like being pinned by a pair of lasers.
Ren's ordinary life, or what little had remained of it, was now officially, irrevocably, and spectacularly over. He, Ren Takakura, was now a reluctant mafia heir in training, a user of inexplicable and terrifying energy powers, a potential target for supernatural entities like Stray Devils, and, as the cherry on top of his rapidly imploding existence, the fake boyfriend of a volatile, high-status yakuza princess who was, at all times, flanked by a highly capable and deeply suspicious human weapon.
And this, Ren had the distinct and horrifying feeling, was just the beginning. He really, really needed more sleep. Or possibly a new brain, one that was better equipped to handle this level of utter, unadulterated madness.