His face was getting so red and hot that it was a miracle Rin didn’t burst into (normal, red) flames. It helped a little bit that his mother was drawing most of the attention, but he could still feel the eyes of his classmates on him, glancing back and forth between him and his mother. Whether they were trying to judge his reaction or look for similarities between the two of them, Rin couldn’t tell, but he was not enjoying the attention. The half-demon had worked very hard to draw as little attention to himself as possible in Cram School, and to appear as normal and un-Satan-like as possible— and if the injury that had caused him to drop his glamour, burst into flames, and start writhing on the floor in front of everyone hadn’t ruined that already, this definitely would.
Was this his mother’s way of getting revenge on him for his actions? Or was she just being a typical embarrassing mother, and Rin a typical self-conscious teenager? Rin couldn’t tell.
For once, he was able to grab a summoning paper along with everyone else; usually, Neuhaus kept Rin far away from the magic circles, claiming that it was a safety concern to let someone with such powerful demonic blood anywhere near a summoning circle. After all, there had never been anyone quite like Rin before; nobody was entirely sure what Rin was capable of, not even Rin himself. Therefore, Rin wasn’t all that surprised when his mother pulled the slip from his hand— only for his eyes to widen when she insisted he summon without using a magic circle.
He wasn’t used to being trusted. He’d started to forget what it felt like.
Just as his mother predicted, summoning was like second nature to Rin. Slicing open the pad of his thumb with a claw, he allowed a small amount of blood to drip onto his desk before the wound closed up on its own. Suddenly, Gehennan words were spilling from his lips before he could stop himself; his lips were moving, but it didn’t feel like his conscious mind was the one speaking. It felt as if he had triggered some kind of deeply ingrained reflex, one he had no hope of suppressing entirely.
“I offer proof of my lineage to those who would aid me. Heed the call of your Prince,” he heard himself say, flushing at how archaic and commanding he sounded. Rin gave his mother a helpless, mortified look, feeling both self-conscious about this apparent reflex and thankful that this hadn’t happened in front of Neuhaus— only for his summon to finally arrive in the form of a black and red speckled Salamander the size of a dog. The half-demon’s nervous expression was quickly replaced with a small smile; he’d always liked Salamanders. Before he knew it, the Salamander was rushing into his arms, and the half-demon reacted quickly, holding him like one would hold a hyperactive dog.
Young Prince! Thank for chose me! Rin heard telepathically in the broken, stilted Gehennan typical of mid to low-class demons. The Salamander wriggled in his arms excitedly like a fish out of water.
“You, uh— You don’t have to call me that. J-Just Rin is fine,” he said softly, flushing. “I should be thanking you for choosing me.” Rin turned his attention away from his new friend and towards his mother again, all the while trying to keep a good grip on his surprisingly slippery familiar. “Is there, um… can I… how do I not say what I said whenever I summon? It just kind of… slipped out.” Rin remembered Neuhaus telling the others to say whatever felt natural to them when summoning, but Rin didn’t think it was supposed to be like… whatever he’d just done.
Yuri and the rest of the class watched with bated breath as Rin summoned the Salamander. She managed to suppress a smile, though barely – still, she didn’t want anyone to accuse her of favouritism. The rest of the kids were so stunned at the turn of events that none of them had actually moved forward with their own summoning, not even when Yuri turned to them and quirked a silent eyebrow.
“But isn’t… isn’t this dangerous?” asked a small, bald boy wearing glasses. “Summoning without a circle…? What if it… what if Rin loses control?”
“No,” Yuri replied without missing a beat, not looking at her son. “If you have the mental fortitude or the power to summon without a circle, you won’t lose control. Doubt will get you nowhere…” She trailed away, fixing her gaze on the boy until he flushed a little and introduced himself.
“I’m Miwa Konekomaru, sensei.”
Yuri’s mouth quirked into a small smile again. “Well, Miwa-kun, in fact, we are safer doing this in Rin’s presence than we would be without. Since he doesn’t need a circle, he would be able to take control of someone else’s familiar, too, if need be – even if you can’t split your paper quick enough.” Her gaze flicked to Rin, as if asking him to confirm.
Instead, Rin asked something else, and Yuri’s eyebrow rose, a look of open curiosity settling on her face. “Why would you want to?” Then she shook her head, her gaze momentarily clouding over. She knew full well why Rin didn’t want to be what he was. And she didn’t want to talk about that in front of the whole class, so she decided to just answer his question. “If this is what’s comfortable, there is no point to forcing something else. You’d either fail to summon, or the connection would be as shaky as your confidence. As I said a minute ago,” she added, a little reproachfully.
Then she turned to the rest of the children. “Well? I’d like to see everyone’s attempt, so please stop gawking.”
