Chapter Text
The cherry blossoms bloomed across the campus of Tokyo University, their petals drifting like soft echoes of every spring before. It was a new year, a new city, a new chapter—and for Yuri Shibuya, it felt like the calmest kind of chaos.
He stood at the entrance to the dorms, bags at his feet, wearing a hoodie under a blazer that barely made him look like a college freshman. His eyes lifted to the main building, tall and proud, and his fingers curled reflexively around the hidden Mazoku ring he still wore on a chain around his neck.
Beside him, Murata adjusted the strap of his own bag, calm and familiar.
“So,” Murata said, “how long do you think it’ll take before a professor notices you’re the demon king again?”
Yuri groaned. “Can I get through orientation first?”
The Dorm Room
Their room was simple—two beds, two desks, one window, and a tiny shared bathroom. But compared to traveling between dimensions, it was perfect.
Murata tossed his bag onto his bed and looked around approvingly. “No magical echoes, no residual curse sigils… feels almost disappointingly normal.”
Yuri chuckled and flopped onto the other bed. “That’s the goal. Just for a little while.”
A pause.
Then Murata reached into his coat and pulled out a small, sealed scroll—marked with a crest from Shin Makoku.
Yuri’s smile faded slightly.
“Already?”
“Gwendal says it’s routine. Wolfram says it’s fine. Gunther wrote a three-page poem about you not replying to his last three letters.”
Yuri groaned again. “We’re not even unpacked.”
Murata shrugged. “You're married to a soldier-prince. Welcome to college.”
Orientation Week
They slipped into student life with surprising ease. Yuri blended well—friendly, awkwardly charming, just weird enough that no one asked too many questions. Murata quickly established himself as the guy who knew all the professors and already had ancient books annotated in three languages.
Kaneshiro, now on sabbatical from teaching, checked in on them once via phone call.
“Behave,” she said. “And don’t destabilize the Tokyo ley lines.”
“No promises,” Murata replied.
Yuri just laughed.
Late Night – Campus Rooftop
On their first Friday night, the two of them sat under the stars on the dorm rooftop with vending machine coffee and the distant hum of city life around them.
“You think we’ll actually get to just… be students?” Yuri asked.
Murata leaned back against the railing. “For a while, maybe.”
Yuri turned his head. “And after that?”
Murata smirked faintly. “Then we’ll do what we always do. Balance kingdoms. Keep peace. And sneak back to class in time for midterms.”
Yuri took a sip of his lukewarm coffee and smiled.
“Yeah. That sounds about right.”
Yuri and Murata had claimed their space within the hour: Murata’s half already lined with neatly stacked books, some in ancient Mazoku script, others standard university texts; Yuri’s side… had posters, snacks, and a stack of still-unopened folders.
“We actually live here now,” Yuri muttered, sitting on his bed and glancing at the ceiling.
Murata nodded, already unpacking a magical sealing ward and tucking it into the back of the wardrobe. “And no interdimensional portals. Yet.”
A knock came at the door.
Murata answered it.
Their RA stepped in.
Tall, smiling, with an air of quiet authority—and glowing, unmistakably red eyes.
Yuri nearly fell off his bed. “Oh come on—”
The RA bowed slightly, eyes flickering gold for just a moment.
“Evening. I’m your residential advisor—Tetsuya Lorne. I assume we don’t need to pretend here.”
Murata raised an eyebrow. “You’re Mazoku?”
Tetsuya smiled pleasantly. “And under very specific orders not to interfere unless absolutely necessary.”
Yuri groaned. “Are there any normal people on this campus?”
“Statistically? Yes,” Tetsuya replied. “But not on your floor.”
Murata muttered, “Well, at least it’ll be interesting.”
Tetsuya handed them a welcome packet. “Orientation is tomorrow. Class signups are open tonight. I’d recommend early registration. Certain clubs are also… Mazoku-friendly.”
He gave a subtle nod and left, leaving the door to close on its own.
Yuri blinked at Murata. “You think Wolfram knows about this?”
Murata grinned. “If he doesn’t yet, he will.”
Later That Evening – University Registration Portal
Sitting side-by-side with laptops open and tea brewing in the background, Yuri and Murata scrolled through course lists.
Murata’s Selections:
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Advanced Political Theory
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Classical Literature & Cross-Cultural Myths
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Quantum Philosophy
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“Modern Diplomacy and Subtext” (elective)
Yuri’s Selections:
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Environmental Science
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World History (which he promised not to accidentally write Shin Makoku essays for)
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Intro to Mythological Symbolism
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Swimming (for sanity)
Yuri peeked over. “You signed up for four 400-level courses?”
Murata smirked. “Do you want me to be bored?”
Clubs Fair – The Courtyard, Next Day
Stalls lined the path: archery, cooking, literature, martial arts, mystery games… and a suspiciously discreet “Multicultural Diplomacy Club” booth, where a half-Mazoku girl handed out flyers with glowing ink.
Yuri stared.
Murata grabbed two.
“We’re joining,” Murata said.
“Do I have a choice?”
“Nope.”
Yuri also accidentally signed up for:
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The Astronomy Club (they gave him a cookie)
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The Ping-Pong Club (he lost a match and got recruited)
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And the Student Earth-Mazoku Alliance, which he hadn’t realized existed.
Murata, naturally, was invited to every debate society before the end of the hour.
As the sun dipped below the horizon and students packed up booths, Yuri and Murata walked back to their dorm, bags of flyers and snacks in tow.
“I still can’t believe the RA is a Mazoku,” Yuri muttered.
Murata shrugged. “You’re a king. Even your dorm’s political.”
Yuri sighed. “It’s going to be a long year, isn’t it?”
Murata grinned. “We’re just getting started.”