✭°Damianya°✭ ʷʰᵃᵗ ⁱᶠ

Stellas

{A/N-Fast forward to the legendary Mission 16 when our precious sunshine receives her first Stella + The beginning of Mission 19/ Doggy Crisis Arc.}

Damian pov

"Wake up, Damian-sama! Today we're writing about which place we want to volunteer at, right?" Emile excitedly jumped up and down, causing our roommates to groan and turn around with their heads sandwiched between the pillows, owing to the fact that we were certainly causing a ruckus per usual.
"Keep it down, you three." I sat up only to face a disapproving Dorm Mother.

"Breakfast is being prepared downstairs. Clean yourself up and get down here." The chef announced, waltzing in and turning on the lights with milk in hand and stacks of lavishly decorated waffles piled onto his head.

As we headed out the doors of our dormitory, we coincidentally bumped into Becky and Anya. My heartbeat resounded in my ears making every syllable distortioned.

The clear G# bell forced all students to be shoved and pushed around, especially younger ones like us. Before long, a pencil was in my hand and I was intently staring at a blank piece of paper.

The thick book I had studied the previous night slipped away unnoticed, leaving me with no clue as to which volunteer center to choose from.

"Psst, Ewen. Do you think an aged-care facility would do the trick?" He nodded, eyes still glued onto his slip
"Emile, should I just ask someone if I could join them?" He looked at me expectantly as jerked his head to where the professor was monologuing.

I mouthed, "Teacher?" and Emile shook his head in amusement. He wrote on a piece of paper: "Middle column, front row."

I thought, Anya? Does he mean her? I looked at my friends teasing smirk and instantly realized I could use Blackbell to reveal where Anya was going. Genius.

Brrring Brrring! As I sauntered down the steps, I could see the cogs in her brain turning furiously as she left a mark on the writing sheet, lifted the nub, and dotted the rim of the scrunched paper. I stood face-to-face with her, and I even had the considerate thought of lowering myself to her eye level, but not once did she attempt to strike up a conversation or notice me.

Milliseconds ticked by, my patience wearing thin. When I could bear it no longer, I slammed a demanding hand down beside hers, rattling the table and successfully making Anya look up. Flicking her forehead, I spoke.
Scrap that, I lied.

"I chose the best volunteer center in the state. No one can beat that, now can they? Not just some lousy adoption center or pitiful aged care, but an invincible business contract with a multi-millionaire CEO. Hahaha!" I provoked, trying to get a reaction out of the sub-conscious girl.

Becky's vein popped, and I genuinely felt scared for my life since sometimes she shape-shifts into Satan, so I tried a different tactic.

"I heard that the professors are choosing our charity centres, I wanna know yours so we cannot possibly get paired up." A sinister plan began forming in my brain. Anya will tell me where she's going, and then I will copy hers, and accidentally meet each other on Saturday.
I wrote down some random words, tricking the girls into thinking that I'd already elected my choice of civic centres.

"Anya chose the hwos-pi-toll." I blinked in surprise, I thought she was so dumb that it would take at least a good few hours. They rose from their seat and strutted down the hallway.
More like, Becky strutted down the runway and Anya idly trailed behind.

Anya pov
Sy-on boy bragged about some stupid deal, but when I activated my telepathy I was so triggered, the urge to give him a second punch was testing my discipline.