After messing around with the protagonist... oops, I mean the genderbend protagonist- Dante finally returned home.
He entered the house with the key Aunt H had given him.
As he entered the house, he saw Jenny lingering near the staircase, her small frame half-swallowed by shadows. She twisted her hands, her face pale and drawn.
Her voice came out soft, almost a whisper when she saw him. "You're back."
Dante tilted his head, flashing her a grin. "Hey, Jenny, what's with the gloomy face? You look like you've seen a ghost—or worse, my old report card."
Her lips didn't twitch. "It's Jane. She's been upset—really upset. Her friends from high school, they've been bullying her."
His grin faded, a flicker of steel sharpening his gaze. "Bullying her? For what?"
"For being non-awakened," Jenny said, her words spilling out fast.
"She passed out from school a year ago, and her then-friend circle all turned out to be hunters, and now they call her weak, say she'll never amount to anything. It's been getting worse, and she won't even talk to me now."
Dante's jaw tightened, but his tone stayed light, teasing. "They feel they are strong, huh? Sounds like those little punks need a reality check. Where's she at?"
"Her room," Jenny replied, pointing upstairs. "She hasn't come out ever since we reached home."
He winked at her, his confidence unshaken. "Don't worry, I've got this. Go grab a snack—you look like you're about to fade away."
Jenny managed a faint smile as he took the stairs two at a time, his boots thudding softly.
Jane's door was ajar, a thin stripe of light cutting into the hall. He knocked once—a quick rap, more habit than permission—and eased it open.
Jane sat curled on her bed, knees hugged to her chest, staring blankly at the wall. Her dark hair fell in a messy curtain around her face, her eyes dull, her expression hollow.
This wasn't the spitfire he knew.
"Jane," Dante said, his voice low but edged with playfulness. "You gonna sulk all night, or are we gonna fix whatever's eating you?"
"Go away," she muttered, not even glancing up.
He ignored her, strolling in and plopping onto the bed beside her with a casual thud. The mattress jostled, but she didn't budge.
"Jenny ratted you out," he said, leaning back on his hands. "Says some weak-ass hunters are giving you hell."
Her shoulders stiffened. "It's not your problem."
Dante smirked, unfazed. "Maybe not, but I'm nosy. Besides, you're family—can't let you mope around like a kicked puppy."
She let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "What would you know? You've turned out to be a hunter, an S-Rank at that. You won't get what it's like."
His eyes glinted as he remembered something from his previous life.
"Oh, I get it. I've been the underdog—trust me, I've tasted dirt. Plus, just because you didn't awaken before, doesn't mean you can't do it now."
Her head snapped toward him, eyes narrowing. "What's that supposed to mean?"
He stood, offering her a hand with a grin that promised mischief.
"It means I can awaken you. I can help you unlock your power—and make those punks choke on their own words."
Jane's breath caught, doubt flickering across her face. "You… you can do that?"
"Yep," he said, smirking wider. "It's a wild ride, but I'm a pro. Just don't pass out on me, alright?"
She stared at his hand, then up at him.
Slowly, her trembling fingers closed around his. "You know you look like a cheap salesman pitching a defective product... but what's the worst that can happen? So, let's try it."
"That's my girl. Now, stand right here."
They stood in the middle of her room, her eyes squeezed shut, Dante's hands firm on her shoulders.
He started to flow his Mana inside her body. He had solar-system destruction level reserves. Giving a little that would recover almost instantly wouldn't harm him at all.
"Easy, tiger. Mana's a river—let it carry you, don't fight it."
She gasped, her body shaking as power roared to life inside her—a searing heat that raced through her veins, wild and untamed.
It was too much, like trying to hold a storm in her hands. "I—I can't—" she choked, panic rising.
"Breathe," Dante said, his tone calm but commanding. "Feel it flow. You've got this."
She sucked in a ragged breath, and the torrent began to settle.
The mana synced with her pulse, shifting from chaos to a steady hum. When she opened her eyes, the world snapped into focus—vibrant, alive.
She could sense it all: the energy in the air, the pulse of the house, the strength now coiled within her.
Dante stepped back, eyeing her with a raised brow. "Well? How's it feel?"
Jane lifted her hands, staring at the faint shimmer dancing around her fingertips. "Like… like I'm finally awake."
He grinned, a rare warmth breaking through his usual swagger. "Not bad, Jane. You're a natural. Now let's give you something to play with."
Dante didn't just plan to awaken her—he wanted to arm her.
Closing his eyes, he channeled a surge of intent, and Jane felt it: a sword technique pouring into her mind, sharp and graceful.
It was a blade of light, its every move a blend of power and precision. The knowledge rooted itself in her. Stances, strikes, the flow of mana weaving through each motion.
She staggered slightly, overwhelmed by the sudden wave of information. "What… what is this?"
"Something special," Dante said, his voice dripping with mischief. "A move from a world where legends are born after their deaths. It's not just a swing—it's a dance with the blade."
Jane closed her eyes, picturing the sword, the elegant arc of its strike. It was daunting, far beyond her reach, yet it felt like hers.
When she opened her eyes, she stood straighter, more certain.
Dante crossed his arms, nodding. "As of now, your mana reserves are at A-Rank. Once you are done mastering the sword technique. I'll raise your mana levels to S-Rank."
"S-rank?" Her voice trembled, caught between awe and disbelief. "Me?"
"Why not?" he said with a shrug. "Besides, it's way too easy for me."
She stared at him, a slow smile breaking through. "Thank you," she said, her voice thick. "I don't even know how to—"
"Don't thank me yet," he cut in, teasing. "Just don't blow up the house practicing, or Mikasa'll have my head. She seems to really like this place."
Jane laughed—a real, bright laugh—and stepped forward. "I mean it," she said, throwing her arms around him in a fierce hug. "Thank you."
Dante patted her back with a chuckle. "Easy there, tiger. Save some of that fire for training."
They stood there a moment, the silence warm and easy.
Then Jane pulled back, looking up at him. Her eyes glowed with gratitude and something more, something bold.
Before she could second-guess it, she leaned in and kissed him.
It was fleeting, a soft press of her lips against his cheeks, but it sparked through them both.
Jane jerked back, her face blazing, heart hammering.
Dante blinked, his usual cool slipping as a faint flush crept up his neck.
For once, he was speechless.
"I—uh—thank you," Jane stammered, touching her lips, a nervous laugh escaping. "For everything."
He cleared his throat, turning toward the door with a smirk.
"Well, that's one way to say thanks. Next time, a high-five works too," he said, tossing her a wink.
"Get some rest, Jane. You've got a big day tomorrow. And I'm always here if you need me."
She nodded, watching him go, a small smile lingering as the door clicked shut.