The fragile peace, or rather, the carefully managed state of non-warfare between the Ryujin-kai and the Beehive Gang, apparently hinged on the continued public spectacle of Ren Takakura and Chitoge Kirisaki's "relationship." To that end, Claude, with the full, gleeful endorsement of Reborn (who saw it as prime material for Ren's "social infiltration training"), decided that the "happy couple" needed to be seen on a proper, public date. Immediately.
"It will solidify your image," Claude had explained, his tone leaving no room for argument, during a brief, terrifying meeting orchestrated in a secluded corner of the school grounds. Tsugumi stood by, her arms crossed, radiating silent disapproval of the entire arrangement but particularly of Ren's involvement. "A weekend outing. Something… romantic. The park, perhaps? Or an amusement park? Yes, an amusement park. Young couples adore those."
Chitoge looked like she'd rather swallow a bag of rusty nails. Ren felt a similar sentiment bubbling in his own gut. An amusement park with Chitoge Kirisaki? The only amusement to be had would be watching them try not to throttle each other for an entire afternoon.
"Is this really necessary, Claude?" Chitoge had ground out, her voice tight with suppressed fury. "Haven't we embarrassed ourselves enough?"
"The alternative, Young Mistress," Claude had replied smoothly, adjusting his glasses, "is a renewed, and likely far more violent, misunderstanding with the Ryujin-kai. Which, I believe, your father explicitly wishes to avoid. Unless, of course, you'd prefer to explain to him why your… personal feelings… are jeopardizing the organization's stability?"
That, effectively, was the end of that argument. Chitoge had paled considerably, her rebellious fire momentarily extinguished by the implied threat.
And so, the following Saturday found Ren Takakura standing awkwardly outside the entrance to "Kuoh Happy Land," a sprawling, slightly run-down amusement park on the outskirts of town. He was dressed in what Reborn had dismissively termed his "least offensive civilian attire." Chitoge arrived shortly after, looking, as usual, effortlessly stunning in casual clothes that probably cost more than Ren's entire monthly allowance. Her expression, however, was one of profound suffering, as if she were about to undergo some medieval torture ritual rather than ride a Ferris wheel.
"Let's just get this over with," she muttered, pointedly not looking at him as she brushed past him through the entrance gates.
Their "date" was, predictably, a masterclass in awkwardness and mutual antagonism. Every attempt at forced pleasantry fell flat. Every shared ride was endured in stony, simmering silence, or punctuated by thinly veiled insults. Ren tried to buy her a cute, fluffy animal mascot prize at a rigged carnival game; she'd taken one look at it, declared it "hideous," and suggested he keep it, as it "suited his general aesthetic." He'd suggested they ride the "Tunnel of Love," mostly as a sarcastic joke; she'd given him a look so venomous he was surprised he hadn't burst into flames on the spot.
Tsugumi, naturally, was tailing them. She wasn't even trying to be subtle about it. She was a few paces behind them at all times, wearing a ridiculous pair of oversized sunglasses and a baseball cap pulled down low, looking less like a covert operative and more like a very conspicuous, very intimidating tourist who had somehow stumbled into the wrong witness protection program. Every time Ren so much as accidentally brushed Chitoge's arm, Tsugumi's hand would twitch towards the inside of her jacket, where Ren was fairly certain she kept an entire arsenal of deadly weapons.
Reborn, of course, was also present, though thankfully in a less direct capacity. He had "tasked" Ren with wearing a small, discreet earpiece, through which the baby hitman provided a running commentary of scathing critiques and unhelpful "romantic advice."
"Dame-Ren, you're holding the cotton candy like it's a venomous snake. Relax. Offer her a bite. No, not like you're trying to poison her. More… alluringly. Try a playful wink. No, not that one, you look like you're having a stroke."
The afternoon dragged on, an eternity of forced smiles for any onlookers, thinly veiled hostility when they thought no one was watching, and the constant, unnerving presence of Tsugumi's steely glare. It was exhausting.
As evening began to fall, and Ren was just starting to think they might actually survive this farce without any major incidents, things took a sharp, unwelcome turn. They were walking through a less crowded, more secluded section of the park, near an old, disused rollercoaster that loomed like a skeletal beast against the darkening sky. The crowds had thinned out, the cheerful music of the main park areas fading into a distant, muffled throb.
A flicker of movement in the shadows between two deserted game stalls caught Ren's eye. He tensed, a familiar prickle of unease running down his spine. He'd become attuned to these subtle shifts in atmosphere, the almost imperceptible signs that something was wrong, a grim side effect of Reborn's constant ambushes and the recent encounters with actual danger.
"Did you see that?" he whispered, his voice low.
Chitoge, who had been staring morosely at a chipped paint job on a nearby carousel horse, looked up, her expression one of impatient annoyance. "See what? Another one of your imaginary friends, Takakura? Honestly, if you're going to be this jumpy, maybe you should just—"
She was cut off by a guttural snarl that echoed from the darkness, a sound chillingly similar to the one the Stray Devil in the church had made. Before Ren could even react, two figures detached themselves from the deeper shadows, moving with an unnatural, predatory grace. They were humanoid, but grotesquely so, their limbs too long, their movements jerky, their eyes glowing with that same malevolent crimson light Ren remembered with a sickening lurch of his stomach. Stray Devils. Two of them this time. And they were heading straight for them.
Tsugumi, who had been a few paces behind, reacted instantly. With a speed that belied her earlier, clumsy attempts at disguise, she moved to intercept, her oversized sunglasses flying off as she drew two gleaming, wicked-looking combat knives from somewhere within her jacket. "Young Mistress, get behind me!" she yelled, her voice sharp and commanding, no trace of the awkward schoolgirl left. She was all business, a whirlwind of deadly precision as she engaged the first Stray Devil.
The second one, however, sidestepped Tsugumi's initial rush, its glowing red eyes fixed hungrily on Chitoge. It lunged, its claws extended, a low growl rumbling in its chest.
Chitoge, for all her bravado and fiery temper, looked genuinely terrified. She stumbled backwards, her eyes wide with shock and fear, directly into Ren's path. There was no time to think, no time to weigh options. Instinct took over, that same primal, protective urge that had surfaced before.
"Get down!" Ren yelled, shoving Chitoge roughly to the side, out of the path of the monster's attack. He spun to face the creature, his hands instinctively coming up, his mind desperately scrabbling for that feeling, that internal spark of the Dying Will Flame.
As the Stray Devil's claws raked through the air where Chitoge had been moments before, Ren felt a flicker, then a surge of familiar orange heat. His Flames were igniting, painting the encroaching twilight with their desperate, defiant glow. This was not how he had envisioned his first "romantic" date ending. Not even in his wildest, Reborn-influenced nightmares.
From a nearby rooftop, hidden in the deepening shadows, another figure watched the unfolding chaos with cold, calculating interest. A faint, almost invisible shimmer of distorted air marked its presence. Its gaze was fixed on Ren, specifically on the burgeoning orange flames erupting around him. A low, almost inaudible hum emanated from the figure, a sound of… satisfaction? Or perhaps, just clinical observation. The prey was reacting as predicted. The data was being gathered. This new, unexpected Flame user in Kuoh Town was proving to be… intriguing. This attack, it seemed, was far less random than the last.