Chapter 38 - The Plans in Progress

The sound of running water and the faint clinking of dishes contrasted with the silent mansion.

Kazuya washed the dishes in silence, the sleeves of his casual shirt rolled up to his elbows. His white, tousled hair fell carelessly, as if he simply ignored the fact that he could comb it. Not that he hadn't tried—he had even played around with some styles, like the classic slicked-back look, but in the end, he always left it as it was when he woke up. His blue eyes, clear as ice under the winter sun, were fixed on the repetitive motion of his hands, though his mind wandered far, lost in thought.

Jeanne dried the dishes beside him, her long golden locks loosely tied back in her usual ponytail. The Maiden of Orleans, now in casual clothing—a light beige knit blouse, fitted jeans, and a white apron with a lily pattern—hummed softly. Her eyes, sometimes violet, sometimes blue depending on the light, shone with an almost sacred serenity.

"Hard to believe…" murmured Ishtar, sitting on the counter while lazily swirling a glass of wine. "I never imagined you'd be the type to actually wash your own dishes, Master. Back in Chaldea, that stuff was handled by that sword-obsessed Archer… and that vixen fox…"

The Mesopotamian goddess, as luxurious as ever with her long black hair and scarlet eyes gleaming with amusement, propped her face on her hand, watching him with her usual tone of provocation disguised as curiosity. She wore a black silk camisole with golden accents, tight enough to accentuate her breasts, paired with an asymmetrical leather short, and knee-high heeled boots. On her wrists, delicate gold bracelets jingled softly with each movement of her glass, and she also wore her usual earrings and hair accessories.

"Hm? Who did you think was washing the dishes every day after we ate?" Kazuya asked, looking at her confusedly.

Ishtar let out a theatrical sigh, slowly twirling the glass between her fingers as if pondering a deeply philosophical question. She raised a golden eyebrow and stared at Kazuya as if he had just told her the sky was green.

"I don't know, Kazuya. I'm a busy goddess, I have jewels to admire… I mean, work to do. I don't pay attention to that kind of thing," she replied with absurd nonchalance, taking a lazy sip of her wine.

She leaned back on the counter, chuckling softly.

"But now that you mention it… so it was you this whole time? Like, for real? With your hands? Water, soap, scrub-scrub? Wow," she said, raising her glass in a mocking toast. "Look at that, you're a multifunctional man, as expected of the man this goddess chose…"

And then, with her usual provocative glint in her eyes, she added:

"If I'd known this before, I'd have thrown more glasses on the floor just to see you in an apron."

Kazuya rolled his eyes at her words.

On the other side, Ereshkigal watched her sister with a faintly disapproving look, her pale fingers tapping the edge of the counter. She wore a loose, soft black sweater with slightly oversized sleeves that partially covered her hands. Underneath, a gray turtleneck peeked out at the collar and cuffs, as if carefully layered, paired with comfortable, stylish sweatpants.

"Ishtar, you could help instead of just commenting. This is our home now too," Ereshkigal said, her gentle voice carrying a soft tone of authority.

Skadi, sitting nearby, let out a soft laugh while nibbling on a slice of strawberry cake. She wore an outfit consisting of a fitted white turtleneck blouse with fabric that reflected light softly, almost like freshly fallen snow. Over it, a long teal jacket buttoned to the waist, adorned with subtle silver details reminiscent of Scandinavian runes. She paired it with impeccably pressed dark gray tailored pants and low-heeled white leather boots, both practical and refined. Snowflake-shaped earrings added a final touch to her minimalist look.

"Let her be," Skadi said with a shrug, her icy tone masked by the softness of her voice. "She'd end up causing more trouble than helping…"

Ishtar made a face as if she'd just heard the most absurd thing of the day and turned to Ereshkigal with narrowed eyes, as if the mere suggestion of "helping" was a divine affront.

"Excuse me, you want me, a goddess, the pure spirit of Mesopotamian Venus, the goddess of beauty and war, to wash dishes?" She crossed her arms dramatically, puffing out her chest. "I'm far too busy being fabulous, thank you very much."

Skadi let out an amused "hn," and Ishtar immediately turned with a glare.

"And you, keep your mouth shut, Baltic Elsa! Are you going to tell me that cake just appeared there out of your goodwill? I bet Kazuya cut it and even brought you a fork."

Skadi merely gave a serene smile, which irritated Ishtar even more.

She glanced at him sideways, her face partially hidden by her hair, before muttering:

"It's not like I wanted to see you washing dishes or anything. I don't care. In fact, it's kind of stupid. Ridiculous, even. But… I don't know. You look… comfortable doing it. Like it's… nice. Tsk."

A pause.

A blush crept up her cheeks before she could stop it, and she turned her face away sharply, as if the air had suddenly become toxic.

"A-and I just don't want to break anything, okay?! Not because I care or because this is our home or any of that emotional nonsense you all made up!"

Silence.

"…I think you just don't know how to wash dishes and are making excuses…" Skadi said with a faint smile, finishing her cake.

Jeanne smiled patiently, not taking her eyes off the dishes. "If you want, I can teach you. It's simpler than it looks."

Ishtar blinked as if she'd been struck by a spear. A faint blush crept up her face.

"W-what?! I didn't ask for help! And… and why are you saying that with that sweet nun smile? Are you trying to make me feel bad?"

"Of course not," Jeanne replied, her calm tone infuriatingly free of malice. "It's just that we can all learn from things we haven't tried yet."

"I'm a goddess! I invented civilization! I taught humans to farm, to pray, to worship the night sky! I don't need to learn how to wash a glass!"

Kazuya, drying a plate beside her, let out a muffled laugh.

"Wow, and yet I'm still the one scrubbing curry sauce off the edge of the pot."

Ishtar froze. One second. Two.

"A-and I only let you do it because… because you seem to like it! Look at that satisfied face! You don't even look like you're working! If I did it, I'd be taking away… that precious human moment from you! I'm being generous!"

Jeanne glanced at Kazuya, trying to suppress a discreet laugh, and commented:

"She's trying to take care of you in her own way. It's admirable, if we ignore the delivery."

"…Lucky me, huh?" Kazuya teased as he finished washing another plate.

"You sure are, idiot…" Ishtar huffed, turning her face away.

The other girls, used to Ishtar's tsundere antics, merely rolled their eyes, smiled, or grumbled, as in Ereshkigal's case.

Kazuya's attention shifted when he heard soft footsteps approaching the kitchen's entrance. A blonde girl appeared there, hesitant, almost as if afraid to interrupt something important. She wore simple casual clothes: a long-sleeved white blouse and a navy pleated skirt that reached her knees, paired with calf-high socks and modest flats. Her blonde hair, with a few side strands, fell down her back.

Her large, bright green eyes were lowered but briefly lifted to meet the gazes of those in the kitchen, looking slightly nervous.

"I-I can't just stand around doing nothing. Um… can I help?" she asked, her voice soft and hesitant, as if intruding on the moment was asking too much.

Jeanne smiled warmly.

"Of course, Asia. You can dry the glasses for me."

The girl seemed to light up from within, taking the dish towel Jeanne offered. Her movements were careful, almost ceremonial, as if each glass were a sacred relic.

"Thank you… for saving me and letting me stay here, Jeanne-san, Skadi-san, Ishtar-san, Ereshkigal-san, and Kazuya-san. I hope I'm not bothering you…" Asia murmured after a few seconds, her head lowered, her slender fingers tracing timid lines on the glass, as if afraid of doing something wrong even there.

Kazuya let out a soft sigh and, without taking his eyes off the plate he was washing, replied:

"You don't need to thank us, Asia-san. We did what anyone would, and you're not bothering any of us here."

As he spoke, he couldn't help but reflect on how it had all happened. It was during the mission he'd assigned to Jalter and Jeanne while he was talking with Rias and her group. He had asked them to head to the abandoned church in Kuoh with two clear objectives: discreetly eliminate the fallen angels present and, at the same time, secure a way to contact their higher-ups, whether it was Kokabiel or even Azazel.

He had a bigger purpose in mind. If it was Kokabiel, he intended to deal with the high-ranking fallen angel before his suicidal attempts to restart the Great War among the three factions cost innocent lives in Kuoh. He had already taken it upon himself to protect this world, to prevent humanity from being treated like cattle. He was just keeping that promise.

Now, if the contact was with Azazel… then he had other plans. Business to discuss with the leader of the fallen angel faction.

The mission wasn't difficult for the two. Despite the fallen angels' resistance to cooperating, Jalter handled it as she always did—direct, ruthless, and efficient. Jeanne, on the other hand, found Asia in the midst of the situation. Moved by her innate compassion, she cared for the girl with tenderness and decided to bring her to the mansion, believing she'd be safer there. That's exactly how his saints operated: the adorable saint, always guided by what was right, and the corrupted saint, cute and relentless, who did everything to fulfill his requests, each in their own way but both equally loyal.

Thanks to them, he achieved one of his objectives, which allowed him to keep the conversation with Rias instead of just getting to the point and telling her to screw off.

But the church and the fallen angels had nothing to do with Rias… right?

Yes, and in fact, they didn't. But she was still one of Kuoh's "Kings," and sooner or later, she'd investigate the disappearance of the fallen angels. After all, she already knew they were there. And somehow, that would inevitably come back to her.

The advantage was that, since she was with him when it all happened, Rias would have no reason to suspect his involvement. That was exactly the plan.

While Jeanne and Jalter discreetly dealt with the targets at the church, he asked them to create a slight distraction, enough to draw Sona's attention. That way, she'd notice the incident happened during his conversation with Rias, serving as an alibi. Otherwise, someone could easily conclude he'd acted on his own… after Rias left.

But obviously, that wasn't the real reason for his caution. Now that he'd revealed himself to the supernatural world, he no longer cared about hiding his strength. He could act freely, without concealing himself, if he wanted.

However, there was a reason for all this subtlety: Grayfia, Sirzechs' wife, was investigating his movements. During the conversation with Rias, he noticed her attention was entirely focused on the mansion. With that level of surveillance, it was literally impossible for anyone to approach unnoticed.

And when he discovered it was her, the wife of that damned Sirzechs, responsible for so many of the problems he'd faced since his rebirth, watching him, he knew he had to act carefully. That's when he crafted this plan: not just to protect his position but to achieve one of his objectives with surgical precision.

Fortunately, he'd secured a way to contact both Azazel and Kokabiel. Raynare, after all, idolized Azazel. It was her desire to prove herself useful to him that led her to kill Issei and attempt to steal Asia's [Twilight Healing]. She believed that by completing her mission, she'd earn the approval of the one she so admired.

Since she possessed a communication spell to contact Azazel directly, it was almost certain she intended to report every detail to him once her plans succeeded, seeking, of course, recognition and praise from the object of her devotion.

He was obviously surprised to learn that Asia Argento was at the church on that very day when he sent his Servants to deal with the issue. Was it earlier than expected? Or perhaps not. The truth was, he didn't remember the details exactly, only that in the original storyline, Issei met Asia a few days after becoming a demon.

That had happened the previous Saturday.

So… was the timeline correct? Maybe. Perhaps the story only diverged due to various factors.

The former pervert was probably too busy adjusting to his new life as a demon, getting to know Rias better, and dealing with Sona's investigations into his disappearance from school. It was easy to imagine that Issei and the rest of her peerage spent the entire week trying to find him, which likely caused him to miss his encounter with Asia.

Either way, there was now one more person besides him and his Heroic Spirits living in the mansion. Fortunately, she was a kind girl who, to his surprise, quickly became Jeanne's best friend, bonded by their shared devotion to "God."

But back to the main point: besides contacting Azazel, he also secured a connection to Kokabiel through Dohnaseek, who, in the end, was essentially a spy and loyal subordinate to the high-ranking fallen angel. Raynare and the other two fallen angels under his command were, of course, shocked to discover this. They hadn't expected that twist, which, honestly, made no difference to him.

He only knew because Jalter, with her usual venomous sarcasm, decided to share the details while mocking their reactions.

He snapped out of his thoughts when he noticed Asia's reaction. She looked up, surprised, and met his calm, almost lazy smile. Ishtar let out a muffled chuckle, and Jeanne shook her head in an almost maternal gesture.

"I-I…" Asia hesitated, her cheeks tinged pink. "I'm so happy… to have met you all…"

Ereshkigal, for the first time since the scene began, let a faint smile slip.

"You're welcome here, Asia. It doesn't matter if you're a former nun…" She glanced at Kazuya. "He has a bad habit of collecting complicated people, but in the end, everyone fits in…"

"Hey…" Kazuya protested, feigning offense. "I'm the pillar of stability in this place…"

The chorus of laughter, even from Skadi, who rarely let herself go so much, broke the kitchen's quiet, filling the space with warmth that made Asia feel more at ease as she continued drying the glasses.

Speaking of her, since the moment she crossed the gates of that mansion, Asia felt like someone living a dream. She was surrounded by incredible people and, somehow, could communicate with them all effortlessly. This was only possible thanks to Kazuya-san, who had touched her forehead when he noticed she couldn't speak Japanese fluently, though Jeanne-san and Joana-san seemed to have no trouble understanding or talking to her.

According to him, she could now converse with anyone, anywhere. And that, as strange as it seemed, made her feel less alone.

…Unbeknownst to her, Kazuya had used his Longinus to rewrite part of her mind, granting her the ability to understand and speak all the world's languages. It was a subtle adjustment, made to facilitate communication between them. Though he knew Italian from the original owner of his body, he preferred Japanese, as it was the language of his two past lives as a young Japanese man. Moreover, the Heroic Spirits serving him could already communicate with anyone from the era they were summoned to, transcending any linguistic barrier. The "Linguistic Communication" implanted in both Asia and himself during one of his tests worked curiously: it was as if each person spoke only their own language, but others always understood, and vice versa. Either way, it was quite useful to have achieved this.

Despite Kazuya's kind gesture, Asia couldn't fully relax.

She was grateful, more than she could ever put into words. Jeanne-san had treated her with such warm kindness that she nearly cried on the way back from the church. She didn't know that blonde woman with calm eyes or understand where her serene, powerful aura came from, but she felt deep in her soul that she could trust her. There was something about Jeanne that reminded her of the holy figures in her prayers: a blend of strength and tenderness, an unwavering faith even when God's name wasn't spoken.

And then there was Kazuya.

His name was spoken with respect and familiarity by everyone there. He didn't speak like a noble or carry himself like a king, but Asia could see something in his eyes that left her speechless. It wasn't ordinary kindness. It was… clarity. As if he saw everything—who she was, what she'd suffered—and still didn't judge her. When he looked at her for the first time and said she could stay as long as she wanted, Asia had to hold back tears.

But even with all the warmth, she still felt out of place. Was she bothering them? Was she breaking some invisible rule?

And yet… there was beauty in it. When Jeanne first guided her through the mansion's halls, holding her hand gently, Asia felt a peace she hadn't known since leaving the orphanage.

A home… was that what she was feeling?

The word seemed too big.

But deep in her heart, hope was blossoming.

She wanted to help.

She wanted to be useful.

Especially after Joana-san helped her with clothes. Despite her slightly intimidating demeanor at first glance, she seemed kind. Asia only had the simple nun's outfit she'd worn since being taken in by the Church, but Jeanne-san's twin sister provided her with several new clothes and carefully prepared the room the three would share. It was a simple gesture, but filled with kindness, and Asia, used to cold and rigid environments, was beginning to feel something rare: acceptance.

In the kitchen, however small her role, she treated each glass, each plate, as if it were a sacred object. Not out of fear, but out of gratitude. Those simple acts—drying, organizing, listening to the conversations with a shy smile—were her way of saying: *Thank you for accepting me. I promise I'll earn this place.*

And amidst it all, an idea was beginning to take shape, timid as the first light of morning: perhaps, just perhaps, she wasn't just a guest there.

Perhaps she was starting to find a home.

Asia smiled faintly at the thought, her eyes slightly misty, but was quickly pulled from her reverie when Kazuya, calmly scrubbing the last pot with soap suds dripping between his fingers, cast a playful glance at Ereshkigal.

"So, 'collector of complicated people,' huh? I think I'll have a sign made with that and hang it at the mansion's entrance."

Ereshkigal crossed her arms, her loose sweater slipping slightly to reveal more of the gray turtleneck underneath.

"It's not a criticism, it's a fact. Just look at us." She gestured broadly, pointing to everyone in the kitchen. "A tsundere goddess, a Norse queen, a saint who seems incapable of getting angry, and a former nun who treats glasses like relics. I haven't even mentioned a certain cruel teacher, a corrupted version of the saint, a corrupted version of a famous king, that vengeful guy who seems to want to burn everyone, and the hero of charity himself. And me, of course, trying to keep some order in all this."

Ishtar, perched on the counter with her wine glass in hand, pointed it at her sister with a mischievous smile.

"Order? You? Eresh, please… you spend more time dreaming about the Underworld than organizing anything. And by the way, I'm not tsundere! I'm direct! D-I-R-E-C-T. Got it?"

Skadi, having just finished her slice of cake, wiped her fingers with a napkin.

"Direct like a comet that misses its target and destroys a mountain in the process…" she commented, her glacial tone laced with subtle humor that made Ishtar choke on her wine.

"Baltic Elsa, I swear I'll throw you into a volcano if you keep this up!" Ishtar retorted, but the gleam in her scarlet eyes showed she was enjoying herself. "And you, Kazuya, why do you let her talk to me like that? Aren't I your favorite goddess?"

Kazuya, rinsing the pot with methodical movements, shrugged.

"I don't have favorites, Ishtar. You all give me equal amounts of headaches."

The teasing smile he flashed made her huff, while Ereshkigal let out a satisfied "hn."

Jeanne, organizing the dried silverware in a drawer, turned to Asia, who was still holding a glass with near-reverent focus.

"You're doing great, Asia. Want to try putting the glasses in the cabinet? They go on the top shelf."

Asia blinked, as if snapped out of a trance, and nodded eagerly, her blonde hair swaying gently.

"Y-yes, Jeanne-san! I can do that!" She took the glass in both hands, as if afraid it might dissolve between her fingers, and walked to the cabinet with careful steps. "I-I just… don't want to break anything. It'd be awful to mess up on the first day…"

Jeanne smiled.

"You won't break anything, Asia. And even if you did, it wouldn't be the end of the world. Right, Ishtar?"

She cast a playful glance at the goddess, who immediately raised her hands in theatrical surrender.

"Hey, don't drag me into this! I don't break things… on purpose!"

Her exaggerated tone drew a shy giggle from Asia, who quickly covered her mouth, as if unaccustomed to laughing.

Before anyone could respond, Jalter appeared at the kitchen door, lightly kicking it open with her boot. She wore her usual overcoat slung over her shoulders and had a lollipop in her mouth.

She surveyed the scene, wrinkled her nose, and huffed.

"Looks like a sappy theater… disgusting." She paused, nodding toward the sink. "You've been at it for twenty minutes, Master. Want me to break the faucet to speed things up?"

Ishtar burst out laughing from the counter, twirling her wine glass with feigned elegance.

"Careful, Alter-chan. You'll end up sounding jealous."

"WHAT?!" Jalter's eyes widened, her face flushing to the roots of her hair, and she spun around. "JEALOUS? ME? Don't push it, you wine-soaked goddess! Go bathe in it, you golden cow!"

"Golden?" Ishtar raised an eyebrow. "Did you mistake me for Gilgamesh?"

She didn't mind the "cow" insult…

"You're all… loud…" Ereshkigal commented, which only made Jalter huff louder.

"At least I'm not hiding in a corner like a scared cat," Jalter growled, crossing her arms. "And I'm *not* jealous, got it?!"

"Sure, sure," Kazuya said finally, with a deliberately bored tone. "Want a shovel to dig that hole deeper?"

Jalter shot him a deadly glare.

Kazuya just smiled. With the last plate washed, he turned off the faucet, shook his hands dry, and stretched his arms back, his shoulders cracking sharply.

"All done, Master? Need help with anything else?" Jeanne asked, already folding the dish towel.

"For now, no," he replied, massaging his shoulder with one hand. "I've got some things to do this afternoon. The rest of the cleaning can wait until tonight…"

Ishtar set her glass down on the counter with a sharp clink, excited.

"Time for secret, diabolical plans?"

"Something like that," Kazuya said, his eyes still fixed on his reflection in the window.

A faint smile curved his lips.