Serra: conquered.

Sweater: acquired.

Azalabulia and Death: located.

Saya peeked around the corner of a building to spy on Azalabulia as she played with death, sitting at one of the picnic tables bordering Nameless’s beach.

Honestly, Saya felt jealous of Death.

There he was, the little dragon, rolled over onto his back while Azalabulia played with him like a kitten by tickling his underside with her hands. Then every single time she lifted her hands up, Death would kick all of his legs up toward her to really play up the role of a playful kitten.

Maybe it was the Fenrir in her, seeing as how her mind was basically half Fenrir’s in the first place, but she imagined swapping places with Death and getting scooted just a bit closer so that Azalabulia’s breasts were pressing down on top of her instead of resting on the table.

Saya shook her head to free her mind from those thoughts before taking a deep breath and stepping out from behind the corner. She could admire Azalabulia’s massive bulias from a distance, or she could seduce her into becoming her girlfriend so that she could admire them up close, too.

“H-hey,” Saya said after walking up to Azalabulia, holding the sweater behind her back.

Azalabulia turned to look at Saya with a smile, but that smile quickly disappeared when she noticed her covered in blood. “Wh-what happened? Are—are you alright?”

“Huh?”

“You have blood all over you!”

“Oh. Right. I forgot to wash off and changes clothes. I… completely forgot I needed to do that. But, uh… long story, but I’m fine. The bear that Serra exploded, not fine.”

“That Serra exploded?” Azalabulia lit up with excitement. “Did she use her new magic?! Did it get its first field test?!”

“If by magic you mean summoning a cannon that shoots a giant ball that absolutely destroys whatever it hits, then yes.”

Azalabulia looked so happy that she was about to cry. “I—I’m so proud of her. I’ve been tutoring her for weeks! How big was the cannon?”

“A little bigger than the ones on The Shoebill, I guess?”

“Impressive… but we need to go bigger. I have to teach her my technique for drawing in more mana so that she can summon an even bigger cannon. I already know what we’ll name it! The World Ender Cannon! A cannon as big as a dragon that could destroy an entire castle in a single shot! Oh! And the cannon could have a dragon theme! The barrel could be shaped like a dragon’s head! And the cannonball could be fire! And—it could be a dragon cannon! The World Ending Dragon Cannon! She could summon a dragon head that shoots fire!”

“Uh… isn’t… isn’t that kind of stealing your thing?”

Azalabulia shook her head with enough force to shake her chest, too, and it was impossible for Saya not to watch the hypnotizing sight as Azalabulia explained, “I summon the power of dragons to launch spells that look like dragons shooting flames, but she would be summoning a dragon cannon that shoots flames!”

On one hand, Saya really wanted to point out how ridiculous that was and the fact that there was practically no difference.

On the other hand, she wanted to win over Azalabulia. Or… win herself over to Azalabulia? She still wasn’t entirely sure whether she was supposed to be seducing Azalabulia or seducing herself to Azalabulia. All she knew was that she had a sweater for Death and that she was relying on it to win Azalabulia’s affection.

On the topic of Death, as soon as Saya showed up to the table, he rolled back over to be upright and curl up around himself on the table. He really was just like a kitten. Even the way he curled up into a ball with his tail curling around his head reminded her of a kitten. He apparently decided to take a nap the moment playtime was over.

Were all dragons like cats?

Was the reason that Azalabulia liked dragons so much because dragons were basically oversized cats covered in scales that could breathe fire and fly?

Or did Azalabulia like cats because they were basically miniature, furry dragons?

Saya didn’t have the answers, but she did know that Death was cute, and that was all that really mattered.

No!

Azalabulia mattered!

The point of going there was to win over Azalabulia! Not admire how cute Death was!

Saya shook her head to get the thoughts of cuteness out of mind and refocus her attention onto Azalabulia. “A-anyways, I—”

“Death is cute, isn’t he?” Azalabulia asked with an expression that almost looked smug. “I saw you looking at him. Everybody understands how cute Death is as soon as they see him.”

“Yeah… he really is.”

“The only thing that would make him cuter is he was covered in the blood of his enemies.”

“I think that’d make him kind of scary.”

“Exactly! And scary is cute! Imagine him covered in the blood of his enemies while he poses on top of a severed head! That would be awesome!”

Azalabulia acted… even more energetic than normal when she wasn’t around Fenrir, apparently. Saya wasn’t sure about the reason why, but it was obvious. Azalabulia wasn’t even trying to act cool whenever she caught herself fangirling like she usually would if Fenrir was around.

Saya also started to doubt whether getting a cute sweater was really the best option for Death. Going off of what Azalabulia was saying, maybe getting a bucket of blood and that bear head off of Serra would have been better. “You’ve been training with him too, right?” Saya asked.

Azalabulia nodded and stroked a couple of fingers from the top of Death’s head down to the base of his tail. “I have! He gets training in with me and Serra.” She wrapped her arms around Death’s torso and lifted him up. “Death, show her your special ability! Unleash your flames upon this world to strike fear into all witnesses!”

Death looked at Azalabulia, slowly turned his head to look at Saya, and then looked straight up and shot out a small puff of fire before yawning and wiggling within Azalabulia’s hands. She let him down after that.

“See?!” Azalabulia asked with eyes full of stars. “Isn’t he incredible?!”

He might be able to roast a marshmallow, at least, Saya thought as she nodded. “Yeah, that was cool. So… when do you think he’ll be big enough to fly? Like, on top of? I think we’re all waiting to see you flying around on the back of a dragon while flinging dragon-themed spells everywhere.”

Azalabulia looked even more excited after hearing that. “That would be perfect! But,” her expression softened as she went back to petting the re-curled-up Death, “I don’t want to pressure him. He can take his time growing even if it means it will take centuries to get that large. It’s important that he enjoys life growing up as much as he can.”

Saya doubted that it would take the dragon hundreds of years to get that large. Part of her was tempted to check on the dragon’s coding to see exactly how long it would take, as checking that could be done in an instant, but she resisted. “It probably won’t take that long. Maybe a couple of years without anything done to speed the process up.”

Azalabulia shook her head. “Then I won’t do anything to speed it up. I would rather his growth be natural so that he can enjoy all the time he is supposed to have. Children deserve that much, even if they are virtual dragon children.”

It was impossible for Saya to not smile when she heard how sweet and motherly Azalabulia was being. Sure, Azalabulia might have been known for her bulias, dragon obsession, and edgy roleplaying persona, but all of that was just the surface level of a teacher and kind woman who genuinely wanted the best for children.

“I bet you’ll be a super good mom,” Saya said. She almost said in addition to that, ‘And Fen thinks you’ll be a great one, too,’ but she refrained. She figured that she should try to keep things between the two of them instead of bringing Fenrir into it. If she did that, she’d get Azalabulia thinking about him instead of herself when the entire point was to win her over for herself.

“Do—do you really think so?” Azalabulia asked, brushing some of her hair behind her ear. Whatever tiny bit of her roleplaying persona that was present before was completely gone now. “I… can’t wait to be one, but I’m worried about it at the same time.”

Saya finally sat down on the bench opposite of where Azalabulia was and asked, “Why?”

“Well… I know I probably don’t need to worry. I love kids and know how to handle them. But when it comes to a child of my own, I’m afraid I might not be able to punish them or scold them if they misbehave. I would probably want to spoil them and pamper them all the time.”

“I’m sure you’d be fine. Besides, I doubt a kid raised by you would ever become a brat who needs punished.”

“Do you really think so?”

“Yeah. Good parents raise good kids. And if you ever can’t punish them for any reason, you’ll always have others with you who can do it.”

“That—that’s true. But… if anybody ever tries to punish Death, I would probably want to punish them for wanting to punish him.”

“Alright, maybe you are going to spoil them a bit too much.”

A soft chuckle left Azalabulia’s lips as she rubbed the top of Death’s head between his tiny horns. “Oh! Um, I never asked. Did you need something? I’m sorry. You came up to me but I never asked why.”

“Don’t worry about it. I just wanted to hang out. Well, I guess there is one other reason.”

Azalabulia tilted her head as Saya finally pulled her other hand out from behind her back. She ended up tilting it in the opposite direction once she saw the small sweater Saya had.

“I got this for Death. I thought you might—”

One might have thought that Azalabulia lit up earlier, but that was nothing compared to how she looked after hearing that the miniature sweater was for Death. “Did—did you really?!”

Even Saya was taken aback by the overwhelming excitement. “Y-yeah. I thought it would look cute on him. Here.” She handed it over.

Azalabulia wasted no time at all happily accepting the sweater to stuff Death into it.

As for Death, he had no idea what was happening. All he knew was that he was getting rolled onto his back while trying to take a nap, then he couldn’t see anything due to the sweater going over his head, and then he let out a yawn once the sweater was pulled down past his head. His wings tried to stretch out as he yawned, but that wasn’t possible due to the sweater being in the way.

He wasn’t exactly a fan of being constrained like that. It didn’t take long for him to try and scratch at the sweater with his claws while attempting to bite the neck of it.

“N-no! Death! That’s—you’re going to ruin it! Stop!” Azalabulia whined. “Just—just wait a moment! Alright? I’ll fix it!”

Death grumbled but stopped, relieving Saya as she was worried that he was about to destroy the sweater she just got him.

“Saya, do you have a knife?” Azalabulia asked.

Saya nodded and took her dagger off her hip, handing it over.

With Saya’s dagger now in hand, Azalabulia figured out where Death’s wings were underneath the sweater and carefully cut a couple of slits into the back of it. Watching that made Saya cringe, but it was for the best as it allowed Death’s wings to pop out through them.

Death could finally stretch out his wings like he tried to before. The stretch might have only last for a couple of seconds, but it was enough to satisfy him before curling back up and going back to sleep.

Only, he would not be allowed a peaceful slumber.

Azalabulia picked up the grumpy, sleepy dragon by placing her hands underneath his front legs, dangling him in the air for Saya to look at. “Look at him! He’s adorable! This—this is the best! This makes me want to get all sorts of other clothes for him! I hope he doesn’t grow up now so that I can get a whole wardrobe of tiny clothes for him! Now he needs a hat! And booties! We could even get him a little scarf! And glasses!”

Are you trying to turn him into a miniature hipster dragon? Saya thought.

“He! Is! So! Cute!”

“Not as cute as you,” Saya thought. Only, she didn’t. She said it. And when she realized it, her eyes widened a bit and her cheeks grew a bit red. “A-ah…”

Saya wasn’t the only one blushing. Azalabulia’s face turned a light shade of red as well. “I—I didn’t expect that.”

“Yeah…”

Azalabulia sat Death down on the table as both girls sat there in awkward silence. Fortunately for Death, that meant he could get some peace and quiet while it lasted.

Saya might have opened up the door to Azalabulia’s heart through Death, but that wasn’t enough. She had to actually go in for the kill.

There was only one problem with that.

As Serra would say, both Saya and Azalabulia had total bottom energy. Saya could occasionally be dominant with Fenrir, and Azalabulia could temporarily be dominant when affected by alcohol, but Azalabulia wasn’t Fenrir and she was sober.

Serra, at least, was able to take the lead with Saya by calling out the obvious with no shame.

But there was no way that Azalabulia was ready to do that, and every second of awkward silence that passed only made it even more difficult for Saya to break said silence.

As far as Death was concerned, that was perfectly acceptable as he drifted off to sleep while content in his new sweater.