The knowledge that actual, literal Devils walked the halls of Kuoh Academy alongside him, masquerading as his school seniors, did little to improve Ren Takakura's already frayed nerves. If anything, it amplified the sense of surrealism that had become his constant companion. Rias Gremory's invitation to the Occult Research Club, her calm revelation of their demonic nature, and her offer of guidance and protection, echoed in his mind, a complex mix of potential salvation and terrifying entanglement.
His days became a tightrope walk. On one side, Reborn's relentless training continued, the baby hitman pushing Ren to master his erratic Dying Will Flames, often in dangerously public (yet somehow always plausibly deniable to outsiders) ways. Reborn seemed particularly interested in Ren's decision regarding the ORC's offer.
"A Vongola boss must be adept at navigating complex alliances, Dame-Ren," Reborn had lectured, while Ren was trying (and failing) to levitate a pencil using only his Flame's aura, a task that mostly resulted in the pencil catching fire. "These Devils… they could be powerful allies. Or formidable foes. Understanding their motives, their strengths, their weaknesses… that is crucial. Don't be a fool and dismiss them. But don't be a fool and trust them blindly either."
On the other side was the ongoing charade of his relationship with Chitoge Kirisaki. The dynamic between them had shifted subtly since the amusement park battle. The overt hostility from Chitoge had lessened, replaced by a wary, almost analytical curiosity. She still insulted him, of course – that seemed to be her default mode of communication – but her barbs were sometimes interspersed with guarded questions about his "abilities" or his "infant tutor."
"So, Takakura," she'd said one afternoon, as they were forced to share a bench during a school assembly, maintaining their "couple" image, "this… fire thing you do. Is it always orange? Can you make it, I don't know, blue? Blue would be more stylish."
"I don't exactly have a color palette selector, Kirisaki-san," Ren had replied, exasperated. "It just… happens."
"Hmph. Unreliable," she'd sniffed, though Ren caught her glancing at his hands with a strange, thoughtful expression.
Tsugumi Seishirou, too, was different. Her surveillance of Ren was no less intense, but it now carried an undercurrent of something akin to professional respect, mixed with deep suspicion. She'd seen him fight, seen him protect Chitoge. He was no longer just an irritatingly clumsy civilian; he was an unknown quantity, a potential threat with inexplicable powers, but also, paradoxically, a potential asset in protecting her mistress. She often cornered him with blunt, practical questions.
"Your reaction time against those… creatures… was slow," she'd stated one day, appearing silently beside him as he was trying to eat his lunch in peace. "You rely too much on raw power, not enough on technique. Have you had any formal combat training beyond what that… baby provides?"
Ren, startled, had nearly choked on his rice ball. "Uh… Reborn's training is pretty… comprehensive."
Tsugumi had just given him a look that clearly conveyed her opinion of a baby's ability to provide "comprehensive combat training" and then vanished as silently as she'd appeared, leaving Ren feeling like he'd just been critiqued by a drill sergeant.
The most immediate source of Ren's anxiety, however, was Asia Argento. The sweet, innocent nun he'd met in the park, now residing at that creepy, abandoned church, haunted his thoughts. Rias Gremory's words about Stray Devils and her clan's duty to protect Kuoh Town only amplified his concern. If that church was indeed a den for something sinister, as he suspected, then Asia was in terrible danger. But what could he, Ren Takakura, possibly do about it? He was still struggling to control his own powers, still trying to survive Reborn's insane training regimen.
Haru Onodera, Kosaki's fiercely protective younger sister, seemed to have appointed herself Ren's personal inquisitor. Her suspicion of him, particularly regarding his relationship with Chitoge and its perceived negative effect on Kosaki (who was indeed looking increasingly worried about Ren's well-being), had reached new heights.
"Takakura-senpai!" she'd accosted him near the school library, her arms crossed, her pigtails practically vibrating with indignation. "Nee-chan said you looked like you wrestled a badger and lost! Again! And you were with that Kirisaki woman! What exactly are you two doing that leaves you looking like you've been through a war zone every other day?"
"It's… a very energetic relationship, Haru-san," Ren had tried, aiming for a casual tone that fell spectacularly flat.
"Energetic or certifiably insane?" Haru had retorted, her eyes narrowed. "I saw you talking to that weird baby again yesterday. The one you sometimes carry around. He was… giving you orders, wasn't he? Don't think I didn't notice. There's something seriously strange about you, senpai. And I'm going to find out what it is. For Nee-chan's sake!"
Ren could only offer a weak, nervous laugh and make a hasty retreat. Haru's determination was almost as terrifying as Tsugumi's glares. He was juggling too many secrets, too many lies, and the strain was beginning to show, not just on him, but on the patience of those around him. The unseen worlds were pressing in, and Ren felt increasingly trapped, a reluctant actor in a play whose script he didn't know, whose stakes were impossibly high.