SXD: Issei meets the Family (Patreon)

Weiss is 18 years old, before 

Atlas, Schnee Manor

The imposing, polished golden gates of the Schnee Manor loomed against the pale Atlas sky, a physical manifestation of everything Weiss had spent the last two years trying to define herself against. The moment the sleek vehicle departed and left them standing on the pristine, white pathway, a familiar, heavy knot tightened in her chest.

She stopped dead in her tracks, her breath pluming into the freezing air like a nervous sigh. "...Maybe we should turn around. The weather in Vale is lovely this time of year."

Beside her, Issei looked up from a brown paper bag he had been aggressively rummaging through. A faint smudge of chocolate sat on his cheek, courtesy of a bakery he had somehow tracked down during their brief layover at the Atlas transit hub. "Huh? Why would we turn around? We just got here, Princess."

Weiss let out a long, dramatic sigh that she hoped conveyed the sheer depth of her dread.

Before them, the snow-covered grounds of the estate stretched across several acres of perfectly manicured hedges. At the end of the grand pathway stood the Schnee home, a sprawling, imposing mansion of white stone and glass that proudly dominated the skyline. It was magnificent, cold, and utterly devoid of warmth.

Normally, returning home was an exercise in mental fortitude for Weiss, a necessity she approached with a stiff upper lip and an armored posture. But today was entirely different. Today, Issei was meeting her family. And, perhaps more terrifyingly, he was meeting Klein. Weiss felt as though she were willingly walking into a pincer movement executed by two of the most volatile forces in her life.

Issei popped another cookie into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully as he studied her tense shoulders. "Why are you looking so nervous? Your eyebrows are doing that little triangle thing they do when stressed."

"I am not nervous," Weiss said automatically, her voice tight as she adjusted the faux-fur collar of her winter coat.

"You absolutely are."

"I am not," Weiss insisted, stepping forward with an exaggerated, dignified stride to prove her point.

Issei let out a soft chuckle, the sound warm and grounding in the biting cold. He found her stubborn attempts at bravery entirely endearing. "Hey, relax. I already met Winter and I promise I won't lose my cool, no matter what kind of garbage your asshole of a dad tries to pull. Though, honestly, I'm way more excited to meet your mom, your brother, and butler Klein. You're always talking about how he basically raised you."

His words, meant to be reassuring, only caused Weiss’s stomach to do a nervous backflip. Issei was approaching this with the mindset of a boy meeting a dignified family servant. What his honest, uncomplicated brain failed to grasp was that Klein Sieben was a tactical mastermind armed with eighteen years' worth of highly embarrassing, deeply personal information about her childhood. Information the old butler would absolutely weaponize for his own amusement.

"Just... please remember to be on your best behavior. Be polite and respectful." She pleaded, casting a wary look at him.

"I am always polite!" Issei protested, puffing out his chest.

Weiss stopped and leveled him with a flat, entirely unamused stare.

"..."

"..."

"...Okay, fine. Most of the time," Issei conceded, deflating slightly as he scratched the back of his messy brown hair, looking away with a guilty grin.

"Issei."

"I'm gonna try my best, Weiss! I swear! No accidental swearing, no inappropriate jokes, nothing!"

She shook her head, turning back toward the grand double doors of the manor. ‘This is hopeless.’ She thought, a sense of tragic resignation washing over her. He's going to say something ridiculous within the first five minutes.

As they neared the entrance, the massive, intricately carved doors swung open with a smooth, silent grace. Standing in the center of the warm, brightly lit foyer was Klein.

The elderly butler stood in his immaculate suit, his hands clasped perfectly before him. The moment his eyes landed on Weiss, his posture softened, and his eyes lit up with a brilliant, joyful spark. "My, my!"

Weiss felt an immediate, icy spike of dread pierce through her affection. She knew that look. It was his witty, jovial personality taking the wheel. Klein had already analyzed the situation, calculated the entertainment value, and formed a strategy.

"Miss Weiss! My good girl, welcome home!" Klein stepped forward, opening his arms wide.

The stiff Atlesian heiress vanished for a fraction of a second. A genuine, radiant smile broke across Weiss’s face as she stepped into his embrace. "Klein."

Holding onto him, Weiss felt the crushing weight of the manor lessen. Klein had been the singular constant in her life, the one person who had offered unconditional warmth and safety during the darkest, loneliest years when Jacques's emotional tyranny had been at its peak. He smelled of laundry starch, peppermint, and home.

Then, Klein gently pulled away, his sharp eyes instantly shifting over her shoulder to lock onto Issei. The old man’s smile somehow grew even larger, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. "Ah. So... this is him."

Issei blinked, his hand halting mid-air as he went to grab another cookie. "Him?"

"The young lady's mysterious boyfriend," Klein clarified, his tone dripping with playful reverence.

Weiss’s face ignited, a deep crimson flush spreading rapidly from her neck to the tips of her ears. "KLEIN!"

The butler turned his gaze back to her, his expression instantly shifting to one of absolute, wide-eyed innocence. "Whatever is the matter, Miss Weiss? I am merely welcoming your guest."

"You know exactly what the matter is! Stop changing your personalities to tease me!"

"Oh my. I'm sure I have no idea what you mean."

From beside her, Issei let out a loud, unrestrained laugh, entirely charmed by the interaction.

Weiss snapped her head toward him, her lips forming a fierce, childish pout. ‘Traitor!’ She thought, screaming it at him with her eyes. ‘You're supposed to be on my side!’

Klein turned his full attention to the young man, his demeanor shifting to a warm, genuinely welcoming aura. "So," he said, extending a hand. "You must be Issei. The young lady has told me an immense amount about you. Most of it via very long, very detailed letters from Beacon."

Issei eagerly gripped the butler's hand, giving it a firm, respectful shake. "Hello! It's awesome to meet you, Mr. Klein. Weiss talks about you so much, I feel like I already know you."

The two men stood there for a few silent seconds, their hands joined, staring into each other's eyes. An invisible chord of mutual understanding seemed to strike between them. Issei saw the fierce, protective love the old man held for Weiss; Klein saw the absolute, unyielding sincerity and protective fire in the boy's eyes. Simultaneously, a pair of identical, knowing smiles broke across their faces.

Weiss watched this silent communion with deep, mounting horror. They were getting along instantly. This was a catastrophic development for her dignity.

"Come in, come in out of the cold," Klein said smoothly, gesturing for them to follow him into the grand hallway.

As the three of them walked deeper into the heart of the manor, several passing maids and estate servants paused, bowing politely to Weiss.

"Welcome home, Miss Weiss."

"It is wonderful to have you back, Miss Weiss."

Weiss returned each greeting with her practiced, flawless social grace, nodding politely. Yet, she could feel the heavy weight of dozens of curious eyes shifting directly to the boy walking beside her. The Schnee heiress bringing a boy home to Atlas was a historic event in itself.

But seeing that the boy in question was wearing a slightly wrinkled coat, casually holding a bag of chocolate cookies, and staring up at the grand architecture like a tourist visiting a museum made it infinitely more scandalous.

"Wow," Issei muttered, his head tilting back as he took in the sheer scale of the foyer. "So this is where you grew up, huh?"

"Yes," Weiss replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

"It's pretty big," Issei noted, his eyes wide.

Weiss rolled her eyes, though there was no real heat in it. "You have said that exactly five times since we cleared the gates, Issei."

"Because it is huge! It's almost as big as the main building at Beacon!" His gaze wandered across the towering, vaulted ceilings, the priceless oil paintings detailing historical landscapes, and the elaborate, glowing Dust-crystal chandeliers.

Watching his genuine, unpretentious wonder, Weiss couldn't stop the small, incredibly fond smile that tugged at the corners of her lips while watching the joy on her boyfriend's face.

Klein, who was walking slightly ahead, caught the expression perfectly in the reflection of a polished silver mirror. His smile widened to a nearly impossible degree. "My, my. The climate in Atlas must be warming up. I see a distinct lack of frost."

"Klein, behave yourself," Weiss warned, her voice dropping an octave.

"What ever do you mean, Miss Weiss?"

"Klein."

The butler offered her another look of pure, unadulterated innocence. Unfortunately for him, nobody who had survived a week in Schnee Manor actually believed that face.

As they continued down the primary gallery, Issei suddenly came to a dead halt. He stopped directly in front of a massive, gilded frame hosting a formal family portrait from several years ago.

Jacques Schnee stood proudly, aggressively in the absolute center, his hand resting dominantly on the back of an ornate chair. A younger Winter stood to his right, locked in a rigid posture, her expression blank. A young boy, Whitley stood on the left, his features carefully arranged into a practiced composed mask that no child naturally forms. A younger Weiss sat in the chair, looking small, fragile, and intensely lonely. And beside Jacques stood Willow, the mother of the house. Her painted eyes were hollow, reflecting a profound sadness and a broken spirit. No one in the portrait was smiling. No one looked happy to be in the same room.

A silence settled over the hallway as Issei’s chest tightened as he stared at the canvas. He felt a wave of profound, burning anger toward the man in the center of the painting, and an overwhelming surge of sorrow for the little girl sitting in the chair. He could see the invisible chains of expectations, pressure, and isolation that had bound her for years.

Weiss stared at the floor, her good mood instantly evaporating. The portrait always did this. It brought back the echoes of shouting behind closed doors, the freezing loneliness of her bedroom, and the crushing weight of a name that felt more like a prison sentence.

Then, breaking through the cold memory, a warm, calloused hand slid into hers.

"Huh?" Weiss blinked, startled by the sudden, intense sensation of heat. She looked up.

Issei didn't look at her; his eyes were still fixed on the painting, but his grip on her hand was firm and steady. He raised his free hand and pointed directly at her younger self.

"Man," Issei said softly, a genuine smile returning to his face. "You were absolutely adorable."

The universe seemed to grind to a halt.

Weiss froze, her brain completely short-circuiting.

Klein stopped mid-stride, his eyebrows shooting up into his hairline.

A maid dusting a nearby vase hastily covered her mouth with both hands to stifle a gasp.

"...What?" Weiss squeaked, her carefully cultivated vocabulary deserting her entirely.

"I said, you looked adorable," Issei repeated casually, turning his head to look at her.

Klein, recovering instantly, nodded in solemn agreement, his eyes dancing with delight. "I must concur with the young man, Miss Weiss. You were a remarkably adorable child."

"KLEIN!" Weiss shrieked, her face turning a violent shade of crimson.

"I didn't say anything inflammatory, Miss Weiss!" The butler protested, his voice full of theatrical offense.

"You’re encouraged! You are actively fueling his ridiculous commentary!"

"I assure you, I possess no such supernatural influence over your young man," Klein said, placing a hand over his heart with a dramatic bow.

"You absolutely do!"

Meanwhile, Issei looked genuinely, utterly confused by her outburst. He looked from Weiss to the painting and back again. "What's the big deal? You were cute. Look at those little pig-tails."

Weiss could feel a dizzying amount of heat rushing into her cheeks, her heart pounding against her ribs. "Issei, you cannot simply say things like that in the middle of a formal household!"

"Why not?"

"Because—!" She cut herself off, her mouth hanging open slightly as she realized she didn't actually have a logical answer.

That was the terrifying thing about Issei Hyoudou. His greatest weapon, the thing that completely dismantled her rigid, calculated mask, was his absolute, unfiltered honesty. He simply said exactly what he thought, exactly when he felt it, completely oblivious to the utter devastation it caused to her carefully maintained composure.

"You were so cute back then," Issei continued, his voice dropping to a softer, gentler register as he stepped closer, looking directly into her wide blue eyes with total sincerity. "And honestly? You're still cute. Especially when your face gets all red like this."

Weiss felt her knees go slightly weak. She looked frantically toward the one person who had always rescued her from social disaster. "Klein, help me."

The old butler immediately took a step backward, raising his hands in a gesture of absolute surrender, a massive, triumphant grin on his face. "My duties cover many things, Miss Weiss, but I am afraid you are entirely on your own with this one."

‘Traitor.’ Weiss thought, her heart hammering wildly as Issei squeezed her hand, completely trapped in the warm, chaotic world he brought with him wherever he went.

—----------------------------------

Eventually they reached one of the larger sitting rooms.A massive hearth dominated the far wall, where thick logs crackled and popped rhythmically, throwing a warm, amber glow across the plush cream-colored armchairs. On a low mahogany table, a silver tea service had already been laid out by the invisible hands of the staff, steam rising lazily from a freshly steeped pot of chamomile.

For a few fleeting moments, Weiss allowed herself to believe that the worst of her anxieties were behind her. Issei had dropped the cookie bag onto a side table, sinking into one of the luxurious chairs with an appreciative groan, completely unbothered by the fact that the rug beneath his boots probably cost more than a small house in Vale.

Then, the heavy oak door clicked open, and a cool, smooth voice drifted into the room.

"Well."

Weiss stiffened instantly, her teacup halting halfway to her lips. Oh, no. Not him, too. She knew that precise, metered tone anywhere.

Everyone turned toward the threshold.

Standing in the doorway was fourteen-year-old Whitley Schnee. The youngest sibling was dressed in a tailored vest and a perfectly pressed white shirt, looking like a miniature version of their father. He calmly adjusted his cuffs, his posture immaculate, as his calculating blue eyes locked onto the newcomer. He didn't just look at Issei; he examined him, dissecting his posture, his clothing, and his aura with a practiced, razor-sharp scrutiny.

Issei, sensing the gaze, tilted his head back over the cushion and stared right back.

A fresh, silent standoff began and Weiss felt a massive headache throbbing right behind her temples. 

Whitley slowly raised a single, elegant eyebrow, a faint, condescending smirk playing at the edge of his lips. "So... this is him."

‘Not again. Is this going to happen every time I introduce Issei to them.’ Weiss screamed internally, resisting the urge to slam her teacup onto the table.

"Alright, seriously, why does everyone keep saying that?" Issei asked, throwing his hands up in genuine confusion. 

Whitley’s expression remained perfectly neutral. "Just the mysterious boyfriend who somehow convinced my sister to openly defy and disobey our father. We have heard quite a lot from Winter during her rare, mandatory visits. She quite frequently mentions how our usually foolish sister... smiles more these days."

Weiss’s grip failed her, and her teacup rattled violently against its saucer, nearly spilling hot liquid onto her lap. "W-Whitley!" she choked out, her face burning.

To her utter horror, she glanced over at Klein, who had moved to stand near the hearth. The old butler looked absolutely delighted, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous light. He had clearly decided to treat this entire family reunion as a spectator sport, completely refusing to intervene.

Whitley’s gaze shifted smoothly over to Weiss, his eyes carrying a knowing, wicked gleam. "Was our elder sister incorrect in her assessment, Weiss?"

Weiss opened her mouth to fire back a biting, dignified retort, to claim she was the same person she had always been, but her throat locked up. No sound came out. She closed her mouth, staring helplessly at her lap.

Because, unfortunately... the brat wasn't wrong.

Ever since Issei had crashed into her life in that Vale street, everything had changed. She was happier. She laughed more. She didn't feel the suffocating weight of her name as heavily when he was around. Everyone could see it. Winter had noticed it during their training sessions; Klein had felt it through her letters; and apparently, even her estranged little brother could read it all over her face. It was profoundly, deeply embarrassing.

Whitley turned his attention back to Issei, stepping fully into the room. He extended a hand, his movements stiffly formal. "Whitley Schnee."

Issei pushed himself up from the deep cushions, wiping his right palm on his jeans just in case there was any leftover cookie residue, and met the boy halfway. "Issei Hyoudou. Nice to meet you, little bro."

"I am not your 'bro,'" Whitley replied smoothly, though he didn't pull away.

The two shook hands.

Whitley’s eyes narrowed slightly, applying a subtle, testing pressure to his grip, looking for any sign of weakness or intimidation in the boy who had captivated his sister. Issei’s lopsided smile remained entirely unchanged, his grip steady and warm, completely unfazed by the younger boy's attempt at a power play.

The atmosphere in the sitting room shifted, turning dense and quiet. Weiss noticed it; Klein noticed it; even the maid standing near the doorway tensed up. Issei wasn't stupid, underneath his goofy exterior, his instincts were sharp. He recognized exactly what Whitley was doing. The kid was evaluating him, testing his boundaries, trying to see if he was a threat or a push-over.

After several agonizing moments of silent calculations, Whitley finally released his hand and stepped back.

"Hm."

"What?" Weiss demanded suspiciously, her eyes darting between the two. "What does 'hm' mean, Whitley?"

The boy didn't answer right away. He calmly walked over to an empty armchair, smoothed out his trousers, and took a seat with an air of absolute regality. "I just don’t see what a boy like him sees in my foolish, overly dramatic sister."

"Whitley! You insufferable little brat!" Weiss erupted, her poise fracturing completely. "What is that supposed to mean?!"

"Oh, nothing at all," Whitley murmured, taking a slow sip of his own tea, looking thoroughly pleased with himself for successfully rattling her.

‘That meant something. It absolutely meant something,’ Weiss thought, her teeth grinding. But before she could march over and properly scold her younger brother, another voice suddenly echoed from the threshold, cutting through the tension like a soft, melancholy bell.

"Is this him?"

Weiss’s eyes widened, her anger vanishing. The heavy oak door swung open fully.

Standing there was Willow Schnee.

To Weiss’s immense relief, her mother was standing tall, her posture elegant, and there wasn't a glass of alcohol anywhere in her hands. She was entirely sober.

As Issei turned to look at the mature, beautiful woman entering the room, he felt a brief wave of awe. It was like looking at a portrait of the future. Willow possessed the exact same striking white hair, the same crystalline blue eyes, and the same refined, flawless facial structure as Winter and Weiss. But as Issei looked closer, his heart ached a little. Behind the beauty, deep within her eyes, sat a profound, heavy tiredness. It was the look of someone who had spent decades living in a golden cage, sad, lonely, and slowly breaking under the coldness of the mansion.

Willow’s gaze swept across the room, bypassing her son and the butler, before landing directly on Issei. A false smile touched her lips.

"Oh," Willow murmured, her voice carrying a gentle, melodic quality. "So this is the young man who managed to capture my daughter’s heart. I must admit... he is not at all what I expected."

Issei, realizing he was standing in front of Weiss's mother, immediately straightened his posture, trying to channel whatever manners he could remember. "Uh, hello, ma'am! It's an honor to meet you. I'm Issei Hyoudou."

Willow walked into the room, her boots stepping softly against the carpet. She stopped in front of him, studying his messy hair, his bright, honest eyes, and the sheer volume of warmth radiating off him.

"The pleasure is mine, Issei Hyoudou," Willow said softly. She reached out, placing a delicate, cool hand against his arm. She could instantly feel the strange, vibrant heat humming beneath his skin. "My daughter's letters have been... quite spirited since she met you. I wanted to see the person who could make my Weiss write three pages entirely about a cinema outing."

"Mother!" Weiss squeaked, her face burning so hot she was certain she was about to melt the snow outside. "That was... that was an analytical breakdown of cultural entertainment!"

"It was a diary entry, sister," Whitley corrected dryly from his chair, not looking up from his tea. "You mentioned his name thirty times."

"Quiet, Whitley!"

Willow ignored her children's bickering, her eyes never leaving Issei's. She saw the fierce, protective way he instinctively stepped slightly in front of Weiss, his shoulders squaring as if ready to shield her from the very walls of the mansion.

"Thank you," Willow whispered, her voice dropping so low the children could barely hear it. She squeezed his arm gently. "Thank you for bringing the warmth back into her life. Heaven knows this house has lacked it for far too long."

Issei’s expression softened, the goofy smile returning to his face, full of absolute sincerity. "You don't have to thank me for that, ma'am. Weiss is everything to me. I'd burn down a whole forest just to keep her safe."

Weiss froze, her heart skipping a beat at his completely unprompted, incredibly cheesy, yet terrifyingly honest declaration. She looked at him, her eyes wide, entirely helpless against the sheer weight of his affection.

Klein chuckled softly from the corner, pouring a fresh cup of tea for the matriarch. "My, my. It seems the young master is a poet as well as a fighter. A dangerous combination indeed."

Willow smiled, a real, unburdened laugh escaping her lips as she took the cup from Klein. "Indeed. Sit down, everyone. Please. I want to hear everything about this... 'Beacon Academy' that has stolen my daughter away."