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DW DXD Intermission Yuuka and Misuki
🕑 Added 2025-09-29 17:11:42 +0000 UTCBefore Chapter 1
Homurahara Academy
The early winter sun filtered through the windows of Homurahara Academy, casting warm golden streaks across the polished wooden floors. Students shuffled into their classrooms, some laughing and joking with their friends, others hurrying with notes in hand before the bell rang. It was a normal day in Fuyuki’s most respected high school, but in Class 2-B, the atmosphere shifted the moment she walked in.
Yuuka Hana.
Her black hair shimmered faintly under the sunlight, neatly tied back with a ribbon that only emphasized the sharp lines of her face. Her blue eyes were calm, cold, always focused ahead, never lingering on anyone longer than necessary. The faintest frown played on her lips, not out of malice but of expectation, as if she had already judged the classroom and found it lacking.
The chatter dulled. Boys stiffened in their seats, their conversations grinding to a halt mid-sentence. A few unlucky ones who were too loud earned a sharp glance from Yuuka as she passed by, and it was enough to make their laughter choke in their throats. They lowered their gazes, fidgeting as if they’d just been caught cheating on a test.
“Damn,” One boy muttered under his breath, watching her glide past his desk. “It’s like walking past a guillotine…”
“Shhh! Don’t let her hear you,” His friend hissed, eyes darting nervously.
No one wanted to be on the receiving end of Yuuka’s words. Her tongue was sharp enough to cut steel. When provoked or worse, when someone interrupted her studies — she had a way of stripping people down with a single sentence. She never raised her voice, she didn’t need to. Her remarks were icy, precise, and humiliating in their accuracy.
“Try paying more attention in class rather than chasing after girls you’ll never impress,” She had once told a classmate, loud enough for the room to hear. The poor boy had blushed scarlet and avoided her gaze for a week straight.
It wasn’t that Yuuka hated people. She just didn’t see the point in wasting time. Her life was structured, focused, every test aced, every assignment turned in early, every teacher quietly impressed with her diligence. She didn’t need friends to tell her she was doing well.
And yet…
While the boys feared her wrath, many of the girls admired her from afar. They whispered in corners, their voices a mix of awe and envy.
“She’s so smart. Did you hear she ranked first again?”
“Yeah, she’s amazing… but she’s really impossible to approach.”
“I tried talking to her once about homework, and she just… looked at me. Like I was wasting her time.”
Even the girls who wanted to be close to her found it hard. Yuuka didn’t linger after class for idle chatter, didn’t giggle about crushes or join study groups unless necessary. She wasn’t cruel to girls the way she was to boys, but her sheer dedication made her seem distant, untouchable.
So she became an island in the classroom. Admired. Respected. But alone.
Yuuka sat down at her desk, sliding her textbooks neatly into place. She opened her notebook, her hand moving quickly as she reviewed yesterday’s notes. Around her, the air seemed to hum with quiet tension, classmates stealing glances but not daring to interrupt.
To them, she was the “Ice Queen” of Homurahara, a title whispered behind her back but never said to her face. And Yuuka, as always, ignored it.
‘They can call me whatever they like,’ She thought, her pen scratching across the page. ‘In the end, grades and results speak louder than gossip. Friends won’t get me into a good university. Effort will.’
Still, as she caught her reflection faintly in the window, poised, serious and alone, a tiny part of her wondered what it might be like to laugh with the other girls, to talk freely without feeling like she had to measure every word.
The thought lingered only a moment before she dismissed it with a quiet sigh. She had no time for distractions.
The Ice Queen lowered her eyes back to her notes, the world around her fading until only her studies remained.
—------------------------------------------
The streets of Fuyuki always felt a little too quiet once the sun set. The glow of the streetlamps stretched shadows across the narrow residential roads, and every creak of the wooden fences or rustle of the wind made Yuuka feel like the world was holding its breath.
She walked beside her mother, Hana Misuki, carrying a small grocery bag with both hands. The weight wasn’t much, but she insisted on carrying it anyway. Her mom had worked herself half to death already today, and even if Yuuka’s help was small, it was still something.
“Okaa-san, you should’ve let me buy this stuff after school,” Yuuka said softly, adjusting the strap of her schoolbag on her shoulder.
Hana smiled faintly, her features tired but warm. “And let you spend money you don’t have? Don’t be silly, Yuuka. I can still handle a shopping trip.”
Yuuka frowned but said nothing. She knew that smile. The one that said her mom was holding herself together with stubborn pride. They had been surviving on that pride for as long as Yuuka could remember.
Her father’s shadow loomed in her thoughts, and she clenched the grocery bag tighter. That man wasn’t worth calling a father. He had walked into her mother’s life with sweet words and false promises, married her, and then stolen everything. The company her grandparents built, the inheritance her mom was meant to carry, their future, it all went up in smoke the moment he sank his claws in.
He had abandoned them afterward. Tossed her mother and her, still a child, onto the streets as if they were trash.
Her mother had been the heir of a powerful business empire. Commerce, trade, deals that spanned across cities, her grandparents had been proud of her. Misuki was brilliant and hardworking, a woman meant to inherit the family legacy. And yet… they had chosen a man who smiled too easily, who charmed them too quickly, and in the end, they had paid the price for trusting him.
Now Misuki Hana lived as a single mother, raising Yuuka with nothing but scraps of her savings and the will to keep a roof over their heads. They survived—barely. Enough to pay for food, rent, and Yuuka’s schooling.
Yuuka hated her father for it. She hated how his betrayal had left scars too deep to heal. She and her mother had grown up together learning one bitter lesson: men couldn’t be trusted. Men only wanted, only took, and when they were done, they discarded you.
Yuuka had promised herself she wouldn’t need them. That she would protect her mother as much as her mother had protected her.
But despite everything, her mom never gave up. She carried her pain silently, worked long hours, and smiled for Yuuka’s sake. That strength made Yuuka proud—and afraid. Proud because her mother was her role model. Afraid because she could see how thin that strength was stretched, how fragile it could become.
“Okaa-san,” Yuuka murmured as they walked, the sound of their shoes clicking softly on the pavement, “you’re working too hard again.”
Her mother laughed faintly, brushing it off. “That’s what mothers do, Yuuka. Besides, we’re alright, aren’t we?”
Yuuka wanted to argue but she really did admire her mother and the two continued their walk home.
—---------------------------------
The grocery bag rustled softly as Yuuka set it down on the kitchen counter. The house was small, but it was theirs, and after walking through the darkened streets of Fuyuki, she was just glad to be home.
Her mother flicked the light switch. Nothing happened.
Yuuka frowned, blinking into the dimness. The lamps didn’t come on, the heater stayed dead, and the refrigerator hummed once before going silent.
“…A blackout?” Misuki muttered, her voice low with fatigue.
Yuuka crossed her arms, scowling. The house was already chilly, and the thought of spending the night without power twisted her stomach. “Great. Just great.”
But before either of them could think of what to do, there was a knock at the door.
Both of them froze.
At this hour, it wasn’t common for anyone to come by. Misuki glanced at Yuuka, her eyes narrowing in quiet warning. Yuuka nodded, her hand hovering close to the edge of the counter as though she could grab something to use if needed.
Another knock. Then a voice, cheerful but oddly hollow.
“Good evening! Sorry to bother you. I’m an electrician working for the city. The area’s having a power outage, so I’ve been going door to door to check on the grids. Just making sure everyone’s systems are safe until we get it fixed.”
Yuuka’s throat tightened. She and her mother exchanged a look.
A man. Immediately, suspicion burned through her chest. Too many lessons, too many memories had taught her that men only took or hurt them. She didn’t trust him, not for a second. And yet… no power meant no heat or light. If their system was damaged and they ignored it, the whole house could be at risk.
Misuki opened the door a fraction, just enough to see him. The man standing outside looked ordinary, disturbingly so. Mid-twenties, messy hair, a set of overalls with a name tag sewn into them. His smile was too wide, his eyes too bright, like a salesman playing at being friendly.
“Evening, miss,” He said, bobbing his head. “Shouldn’t take long. Just need to check your breakers, maybe your wiring. Fifteen minutes, tops.”
Yuuka’s hands balled into fists at her sides. Everything about him set her teeth on edge. She didn’t want him here. She didn’t want any man in their home.
Her mother’s lips thinned, her tone clipped and cold. “Fine. But make it quick. We don’t want you lingering. Check what you need to and leave.”
The man’s grin twitched, as though her sharpness only amused him. “Of course, of course,” he said smoothly. “I’ll be quick.”
Yuuka stepped back reluctantly, letting him inside. The shadows of the unlit house pressed in around them as he moved past. Every step he took made her skin crawl.
Something about him felt wrong. She couldn’t explain it, couldn’t point to one detail that screamed danger, but the way his eyes flicked around the room, the way his smile never faltered, it wasn’t how normal men acted. It was hunger disguised as politeness.
She caught her mother’s eye again. Both of them were tense and stiff.
Misuki’s voice snapped like a whip. “Hurry it up. We don’t have time to waste.”
“Of course,” The man said again, his grin widening. His tone was still polite, but there was something darker under it now, something Yuuka couldn’t name.
Her stomach twisted. She hated that they had let him in. She hated that they were relying on him at all.
And as he moved deeper into the house, toolbox in hand, she swore she saw his shoulders shake—like someone trying not to laugh.
Ryuunosuke Uryuu could hardly contain himself.
The house was silent except for the faint creak of the floorboards as the so-called electrician walked down the hallway. Yuuka and her mother trailed a few steps behind, unwilling to let him move unchecked through their home.
Her mother’s arms were crossed, her expression sharp and distrustful. Yuuka could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her jaw tightened every time the man glanced back with that unnerving smile.
He stopped near the breaker box in the back of the house and set down his toolbox with a clunk. He crouched, fiddling with the latch as though he were inspecting it, his head tilted at an odd angle.
Yuuka’s skin prickled. Something about the way he moved like someone playacting at a job they didn’t care about. Her instincts screamed that he didn’t belong here.
Her mother’s voice cut the silence. “Are you finished yet?”
The man didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he let out a soft chuckle, low and quiet. He straightened slowly, his back to them, and his shoulders shook as if he were laughing at some private joke.
Yuuka felt her pulse quicken. “Okaa-san…” she whispered, but her mother’s eyes were already narrowing.
Then he turned.
The smile was still there—only now it wasn’t a mask of politeness. It was wide, stretched too far, gleaming with something raw and cruel. In his hand wasn’t a tool, but a knife. The blade gleamed faintly in the dim light that filtered through the curtains, already reflecting their pale faces.
Yuuka froze. Her breath caught in her throat, her blood turning to ice.
Her mother moved on instinct, stepping in front of Yuuka. “Stay back,” Misuki hissed, her voice trembling despite her brave front.
But the man only grinned wider, tilting his head like a predator toying with prey. “You know,” he said lightly, almost sing-song, “I love when people let me in so easily. Makes things so much more… fun.”
Yuuka’s knees buckled, her hands trembling violently at her sides. The knife flashed—and before she could react, the man lunged.
Her mother’s gasp was sharp and pained. The blade tore across her side, hot red blooming instantly through her clothes.
“Okaa-san!!” Yuuka screamed, catching her mother as she staggered, blood spilling between her trembling fingers. She pressed her hands desperately against the wound, trying to stop the flow, her tears already blurring her vision.
The man loomed above them, licking his lips, his grin stretching grotesquely as though their suffering was the finest entertainment.
Yuuka’s heart pounded so hard it hurt. Panic strangled her chest, her body shook violently. She wanted to protect her mother, to fight back—but she was frozen. Powerless.
Her throat burned, the words tearing themselves out of her before she even knew she was speaking.
“PLEASE HELP ME!!”
It wasn’t just a cry. It was everything—her fear, her desperation, her refusal to lose the only person she had left. It ripped through the night air, raw and primal, echoing down the quiet street.
For a split second, the house seemed to hold its breath.
And then—footsteps. The sound of someone rushing closer.
Done. This was also a scene I wanted to write but mostly forgot about. Tell me what you think.
