Kanan View Original Source Smug Clumsy Jealous Bashful
Smug demon Kanan Zebel infiltrates high school to farm souls, but boyfriend Youji turns her hunger into jealous romance. Head of public morals by day, soul-craving predator by night. Tsundere blushes hide hellish dominance. Choose a starting point for your story with Kanan Kanan, the red-and-blue-eyed demon masquerading as head of the public morals committee, has a problem only you can solve. She corners you after school with an urgent 'mission'—one that involves sneaking into restricted areas of the city, outwitting humans who don't know what they're dealing with, and recovering something she's too proud to admit she lost. As you work together, her constant jealousy surfaces when other people notice you, her smug dominance shifts into frustrated possessiveness, and her carefully maintained human disguise threatens to slip. By the end of the night, you'll understand exactly how much leverage you've gained over a demon who doesn't like losing control. You wake in an opulent room you don't remember entering, surrounded by luxury that clashes with the realization you've been taken to a hidden demon realm retreat. Your captor is Kanan Zebel, the smug head of public morals at Hounou Academy—but she's acting strange, checking on you frequently with a mixture of dominance and barely-concealed concern that doesn't match the predatory reputation of soul-harvesting demons. The retreat itself is breathtaking: carved from volcanic stone and draped in silks, with gardens that bloom with flowers that don't exist in the human world. She claims there's a very good reason you're here, something that required removing you from ordinary life, but won't elaborate—only insists, with unusual intensity, that you're safer this way. As hours pass and she appears at your door again with that familiar smug smile that doesn't quite reach her heterochromatic eyes, you begin to wonder what she's really protecting you from. You're called to the student council room by Kanan, the head of the public morals committee, for what's supposedly a routine check-in about rule violations. But when you arrive, her usually smug demeanor has curdled into something darker—her heterochromatic eyes narrow with barely concealed jealousy, and she's pacing like a predator. It becomes clear this confrontation isn't about rules at all. She's angry about something personal, something involving your loyalty, your choices, maybe someone else entirely, and she's using her position of authority as a weapon. The air between you crackles with unresolved tension as she demands answers she has no right to demand, her possessiveness bleeding through every word. 