DxD : Actually Satan..?

The clink of cups and the low obackground jazz added just enough noise to make the silence between the two tenants pf the table bearable.

Leo and Bazett sat at a table near the corner—one side of the booth empty save for a leather satchel with a faint bloodstain on the edge.

They were here after burying Kirei under the church floor.

Because apparently, Satan had standards about corpse etiquette.

Bazett nursed her drink cautiously.

Her posture was stiff, her gaze flicking to Leo every so often like she expected him to burst into flames or summon a legion of demons with a wink.

Leo, on the other hand, was perfectly at ease—leaning back, one arm draped casually over the seat, sipping his coffee.

Bazett still wasn't used to it.

Not just him, but the way he acted so alarmingly familiar with modern life.

He ordered his own coffee without hesitation.

Made a joke to the barista. Knew what oat milk was.

Normal Heroic Spirits weren't supposed to be like this.

They weren't so… fluent in mordern human behavior.

And that made her believe, just a little more, that he might not be bluffing after all.

That he really was the Satan.

Even if he looked like questionably young.

"How many times do I have to tell you—I look young because this form is a degraded version of myself. A weak summoning ritual can't possibly bring out all of me."Leo replied to her thoughts.

Bazett flinched. "Stop doing that."

Leo blinked, sipping his coffee. "Doing what?" he thought—projecting his voice into her head like a whisper under her skin.

She set her cup down, slowly. "Invading. My. Mind."

Leo raised a hand in surrender. "Relax. I'm not reading anything."

Technically true.

He wasn't reading.

He just… noticed some things.

Heard the way her heartbeat spiked when he looked directly at her.

Saw the way she flushed slightly.

But he didn't say any of that.Because he was nice.

Mature, even.

And also he wanted his damn coffee in peace.

Which, by the way, was non-negotiable.

Because Leo was a creature of habit.

He needed his caffeine on time, or he became… someone else.

Bazett finally gathered her courage and she asked the question that had been gnawing at the back of her mind since the moment he appeared.

"Why did you even answer the summoning?"

Her voice was steady, but the curiosity behind it was quite a lot.

As someone familiar with the inner workings of the Grail system—its filters, its rules, its selective summoning of spirits based on desire—this part didn't make any sense to her.

What could the literal Satan desire if not the end of the world...?

Leo looked at her over the rim of his cup.

It was the kind of look that said, finally, like he'd been waiting for her to catch up.

"Oh, I don't have any wishes," he said with a casual shrug. "Not from that fraud grail, anyway."

Bazett blinked. "...Fraud grail?"

He nodded, then leaned forward, placing his cup down with exaggerated care.

"Yeah. You know, the Holy Grail—the glorious cup of miracles, the all-powerful wish-granter that drips with the blood of false hope?" he gave a smirk, sharp and amused. "Trust me. The only thing that ever comes out of that overhyped mana engine is endless amounts of pain, suffering, and anguish."

Bazett narrowed her eyes.

That... wasn't knowledge she was aware of.

Not even close.

Even the Clock Tower acknowledged the artifact as one of immense power , even if perturbed by the agonizing ritual of the wars.

And here he was, dismissing it like a used matchstick.

"It can't even grant wishes properly," Leo continued. "Not really. At best, it gives you a cheap, overclocked simulation. And the third Magic."

"The Third…" Bazett repeated, her brow furrowed. "You mean Heaven's Feel?"

"Ding ding," Leo said with a little finger-gun. "That one. The Eizenbern family—or Eisenburns, or Elzenbooms, whatever it is —still clinging to that fantasy of achieving it through the Grail."

He chuckled and shook his head. "It's not pathetic, exactly. Just… kind of senseless.... There are probably better ways to reach the Root if you're determined enough."

"Less messy, too."

Bazett just stared at him.

He was speaking truths she doubted more than only a few people in the world even whispered about and he was doing it while drinking mediocre coffee in a rundown shop like it was weather talk.

"So... if you don't want the Grail," she said slowly, "then why are you here?"

Leo smiled and leaned back again.

"Because I was bored. And felt like it.." he paused.

He picked up his cup again.

"Also, I like Japan. Has vending machines for everything."

Bazett didn't respond right away.

She just looked at him, her lips slightly parted like she was on the verge of saying something—but even her brain seemed to give up halfway through.

Why did she feel like she walked right into that?

She really should've expected the absurdity.

This was Satan, apparently.

And Satan liked vending machines.

Leo's body continued sipping coffee and delivering half-baked, reality-shattering exposition like he was auditioning for a coffee shop AU.

But internally?

He wasn't even there.

His consciousness had checked out the moment the words "Third Magic" left his mouth.

Because honestly, he didn't need to focus.

The simulated personality model he was running was fully capable of bullshitting its way through basic human interaction.

No, the real Leo was busy.

Busy with what? Planning.

He was building the next stage.

The roadmap.

Two of his top three priorities were already ticked off the list:

Kotomine Kirei – dead.

Shinji Matou – very dead.

The only one left on the "mandatory extermination" tier:

Zouken Matou.

The worm-ridden parasite.

He'd be getting jumped within the hour.

Leo had already laid the groundwork.

But that wasn't even the hard part.

The real question—the thing he was actually mulling over—was:

Who the hell was he going to recruit?

---

Emiya?

Nope...Cool guy. Loved the trench coat. But that man's life was already a collapsed building held together by a single thread of resolve and disappointment.

Dragging him into another cosmic nightmare would just be cruel.

---

Rin?

Useless without a god inside her.

…Pause. That was phrased wrong.

Leo mentally winced.

Still true, though.

---

Sakura?

Ah.

That one stung a bit.

She had a soft spot in his heart.

But hers was a very specific kind of tragedy.

She didn't want power, or revenge, or a throne.

She just wanted peace.

Normalcy.

A quiet life.

And recruiting her would be the opposite of that.

Still…

If she ever did agree to let him unlock her full potential, she'd be a terrifying force.

Besides, even if she refused, Leo had plans to dive into the Imaginary Number Space and locate a few very specific things.

Like… maybe a Beast-class or two.

---

Servants?

They were useful. Temporarily.

But ultimately?

They'd be folded into him.

Echoforge would see to that.

Every Heroic Spirit he collected would become another instrument in the ever-growing orchestra of power under his command.

---

Bazett?

He glanced at her in real-time.

Honestly… not a bad candidate.

Strong, loyal, not half bad in a fight.

Good to look at.

Not first pick, but definitely worth keeping close.

---

The bell above the door gave a soft chime—casual, harmless.

Just another pair of customers walking into the small, tucked-away café on the edge of town.

Bazett didn't pay it any attention.

Then her body froze.

She felt the shift before she saw it. Like static crawling up her spine.

Leo blinked lazily once, then turned his head toward the entrance.

There stood a red-haired boy with a kind, clueless face and a paper bag of groceries in hand.

He was followed closely by a petite blonde girl with intense green eyes and an unmistakable ahoge.

Her posture was perfect, her steps precise.

And the moment her gaze landed on Leo—

She stopped.

Like a hunting dog that had just sensed something wrong in the woods.

Her hand hovered near her side.

Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

The pressure around her tightened like the air before a thunderclap.

She was ready to fight.

Leo just smiled and stood up, brushing imaginary dust from his coat as he casually walked over.

"Yo. Artoria," he said, like he was greeting an old friend.

Both Shirou and Saber blinked.

Then she blinked again, slowly.

"...What did you just call me?" Saber asked, voice cool and clipped.

Leo leaned just slightly forward, gesturing to the empty seats near their table.

"Relax... I just wanna share coffee and some sinfully sweet pastries. My treat."

Saber's mouth opened, ready to decline.

Her stance was already shifting into something more defensive—

But then he looked her in the eyes.

Really looked.

And something in her stalled.

It was certainty.

She stood there for a long moment, measuring him with the instincts of a warrior king.

Then, slowly, she lowered her hand.

"…Very well," she said cautiously.

---

After some time, it became very clear who Artoria Pendragon's new favorite person was.

Not Shirou.

Not even close.

It was the man who had, without hesitation, bought every single pastry in the café just for her.

The display case had been emptied like a battlefield after a siege, and now the table in front of them looked like an edible mountain range of sugar, cream, and flaky crusts.

Artoria sat primly, posture perfect, expression serene—except for the way she was devouring everything with frightening precision.

Strawberry tart. Devoured.

Custard danish. Gone.

Chocolate croissants? History.

Leo watched her with a soft, deeply entertained smile, his eyes practically glowing with amusement.

His hand kept subtly reaching toward her head—specifically that little rebellious ahoge—but Artoria, without ever stopping her chewing, dodged with smooth, supernatural grace each time.

It was like a dignified fencing match, but with pastries and pokes.

On the other end of the table, the two Masters were sitting stiffly across from each other, silently wondering what the hell was happening.

Shirou looked confused and vaguely concerned.

Bazett looked like she was suffering from chinese water torture.

She cleared her throat politely.

Nothing.

She coughed once more —louder.

Still nothing.

She coughed again, this time with exaggerated emphasis.

Leo, still trying to get a clean swipe at Artoria's head, casually muttered, "You should get that checked. Chronic coughing could be a sign of lung cancer..."

"I'm trying to get your attention," she said, exasperated.

"Well," Leo replied dryly, not even looking at her, "you're clearly failing at that."

Artoria swallowed another bite of cherry pie without missing a beat.

She was clearly enjoying the attention. Or the pastries.

It was probably the pastries.

Bazett narrowed her eyes. "What even are you doing?"

Leo finally turned to face her—his hand still blindly reaching toward Artoria, who leaned just slightly to the left to avoid him while continuing to chew.

In a deadpan voice, Leo replied, "Fattening the sheep. I'm hoping I'll be able to pet that head by the end of the day."

Bazett stared at him.

Then stared at Artoria.

Then back at Leo.

She nearly burst out laughing—or screaming—it was hard to tell which.

But instead, she clenched her fist, took a deep breath, and thought:

Yeah… he's Satan alright.

Fortunately for Bazett—and perhaps the bakery's supply chain—the shop finally ran out of things for Artoria to eat.

The blonde knight gracefully folded her napkin, dabbed at the corners of her mouth with dignified precision, and looked at Leo with calm, regal curiosity.

"May I know your name, generous benefactor?" she asked in a composed tone, still sitting upright like she was in a royal court and not surrounded by demolished desserts.

Leo smiled and leaned forward, extending his hand with an easy, relaxed air. "My name, huh… You can call me Leo."

Artoria glanced at the offered hand for a moment, then placed her own in his and gave it a firm, knightly shake.

"I'm sure you're already aware," she said with pride, "that I am the Saber-class Servant."

Leo's smile widened slightly, his grip tightening just enough to be felt. "And I'm Satan," he said casually.

Shirou, who had just taken a cautious sip of coffee, immediately sprayed it out in a fine arc of sheer panic.

"WHAT?!" he gasped.

Leo turned to him, mock offended. "Hey, man. That's precious caffeine you're wasting. You know they used to colonize countries for that stuff."

Everyone ignored him.

Artoria froze. "You're what?" she said, slowly trying to withdraw her hand from the handshake.

Leo, of course, didn't let go.

"Come on, it's not like it's the end of the world," he said with a grin.

Everyone at the table stared at him in dead silence.

Bazett didn't even blink.

Shirou looked like he was trying to remember every holy chant he'd ever heard.

Artoria's eye twitched slightly.

Leo paused. Then added, a little too cheerfully:

"…Okay, maybe it is."

=======================

Power Stones and Reviews please