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My teenage high school romance comedy can't be this perverted!

A oreigaru or snafu/DxD crossover featuring our infamous loner Hikigaya Hachiman who for unknown reasons was suddenly ripped from his reality and dropped into this foreign world filled with danger in every corner. And he needs to find a a way to deal with his new overly attached and attention-seeking 'friends'. I primarily focus on fanfiction.net, when a new chapter gets released or I have some important news, I'll most likely post it there first. I'll try to make things work here as well. Also don't forget to review and stuff, I want to know your thoughts on my story! And all chapters are between 2k - 4k words.

NimtheWriter · Anime und Comics
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93 Chs

Chapter 41: Rebirth part 6

Beta read by n1ch, Shigiya, Solitary heart and 8kagi.

And for those who've missed this detail last chapter, no, Raynare didn't have drunk sex with Hachiman—she just passed out drunk on top of him.

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-Hidden Cave-

Somehow…

Deep inside my mind, I always knew this mission wouldn't be easy. Rarely had something ever gone as planned. Things tended to run amok and become chaotic soon after.

I remembered my first unofficial mission in Paris. I talked about it a lot because it was the cornerstone of my life, of how I turned out today; its effect is still being felt to this day.

I've changed a lot since then, to the point of being unrecognizable from my past self. I knew that I should as expected as much, it is something natural; as no one stays the same after going through all of this, especially after all of the lives I've taken.

I may have grown used to the supernatural, I've even embraced it wholeheartedly even if the rest saw me as nothing more than a walking calamity. Yet a part of me remained which hated the mythical side of the world, it wanted to go away and hide from all this nonsense. Forget everything and live as a hermit deep in the woods where no one would find me. Another part of me still longed to go back even if I made peace with my past life.

And most importantly, a major part of my being–clean of the madness which once plagued Vritra–hated the act of violence and killing.

"Sétante?"

All of these long-forgotten feelings I once had before, came back rushing into my head like a roaring flame. The thought of the many regrets and desires of the past, that it made my head dizzy for a bit, but I did my best to compose myself.

Why would his death affect me this much?

I only had a brief conversation with him, one that held no emotional speech or attachments of sorts. It could be said that we were merely sizing each other up, one side wondering if the other was a danger to themselves or not. He was a potential enemy which I would have needed to kill if he did not surrender.

Despite my disgust at intentionally ending one's life, I've done it many times. I remembered Freed, the man who died one of the most brutal deaths imaginable, barely made me feel anything after killing him. He was a monster, someone who was created to fight the supernatural, that decided to turn its blade on those he was supposed to protect. He raped and murdered anyone that got in his way, or when he just felt like it. Just a rabid dog that needed to be put down for the safety of everyone.. But I still forced myself to acknowledge his worth as a person and make a grave for him, to not forget the value of life and not grow desensitized with killing.

But why… Why do I feel saddened by his death?

'Give the boy a chance…'

Oh right…

'He needs it more than anyone here.'

Because I made a promise to that old witch lady. A promise that should have held no worth to me and should have just ended up as parting words; empty words that held on to my soul with a vice grip.

"I'm sorry…" I said to the corpse, after closing his eyes. I checked his wounds, the man should have died a few hours ago or a day at best. Aside from the stench or iron heavy in the air, there was no rot or decomposition visible anywhere. Even touching his skin I still felt the slight warmth of a person who once was alive.

"Oh shit, it's that guy!" Raynare yelled, her voice echoing throughout the cavern, making me cringe from the noise. I turned my gaze onto her, seeing her confused and surprised look on the Fallen.

"You recognize him?" I asked, wondering how these two could've met.

"Well yeah, I tried to sleep with him, but he just blew me off!" I didn't need to know that, but at least now I understood why she looked pissed.

The guy didn't sleep with her, because he had standards.

"You could have just said you met him at the bar."

"Like I care, still he got what he deserved, humph! Turning down a woman like me, the man didn't deserve to live for such disrespect, Hmph!"

"You're a grade-A bitch, you know that?"

"And you're a sick, twisted bastard, who gets off on looking at my body and sniffing my underwear."

She always has something to say… At this point, I was getting used to her attitude. At least I preferred dealing with an obnoxious bitch who didn't bother hiding her thoughts than her Yuuma persona.

"There are some runes written on the stone here…" I called her forward so that she could translate it for me, just wanting to get this conversation going. The stone looked similar to the one I saw above when I went to visit Cu Chulainn's grave. Except this point was still stained with blood and a rope-like flesh that resembled the intestines.

"I read ᚲᛚᛟᚲᚺᚨᚠᚨᚱᛗᛟᚱᛖ, on here… which should translate to Clochafarmore."

Isn't that the Irish hero's grave stone?

What kind of madman had such a hate for a man who died long ago to recreate his last moments with another lookalike.

"We need to continue our search."

Returning to the matter at hand, whoever killed Sétante was still here, I could feel the flow of magic go further into the cave. Behind the pierced body was a dark corridor with a trail of blood leading to two metal doors.

Something was pulling in the liquid and the magic in the surrounding area.

'A vampire?' What other creature would be associated with blood? Oh wait, I remembered reading the book I bought depicting Ireland's mythological creatures. 'Don't tell me it's an Abhartach…'

These creatures were described to be incredibly fierce and violent unlike the France version; which is known to be more cunning.

I decided to make my way towards the doors where the trail ledding until Raynare stopped me, "Wait!"

In such a quiet and confined space her voice was hundreds of times louder than normal, which made me flinch very hard.

"Quiet down will you!? The enemy definitely heard us! What is it?" I glared at her, wondering if it would've been better to leave her behind next time.

"Don't you want to take this spear? Like it's right here for the taking!" asked Raynare, pointing at the spear that was still impaled in the deceased Irish man.

"Touch the weapon," I said, my voice sounding empty

"What?" She looked at me confused.

"If you want the spear then I dare you to take it."

"Are you serious?"

"Very."

Something felt off about that spear… it wasn't a normal weapon or even a sacred gear for that matter. I felt nothing from it, not even the slightest aura of bloodlust or remaining magical aura; which worried me a lot.

I wanted to take it, but my guts heavily protested at the action.

So to make sure if my worries were either true or false, I let Raynare take it instead… or at least try to.

"Well sucks to be you, you just passed the opportunity to own an awesome weap—Crack! Argh!"

The moment she touched the shaft a loud sound as thunder reverberated in the cave. A heavy feeling of bloodlust permeated the room with a blue aura engulfing the spear.

"What the fuck!? The fucking thing burned my hand!" Raynare said as she held onto her left wrist, her palm was scorched badly with her skin completely burned off.

Shit, I didn't expect the reaction to be so intense, I was waiting for a small effect, not a full-blown retaliation! "Give me your hand!"

I felt guilty about my previous decision, I shouldn't have let her touch the spear! Damn it!

"Hell no! You stay away from me, I don't need you to make it worse!"

I didn't listen to her and forcefully grabbed her wrist.

"Just shut up and let me heal you, idiot!" Thankfully I brought some healing supplies for the trip. I wasn't going to use the single phoenix tear I had left but instead used another concoction I made thanks to Reya who held knowledge over healing potions as a former magician.

Pop

I removed the cork and poured a red viscous liquid on her palm.

Szzzz

It wasn't anything even close to the phoenix tears, but it did its job. A thin fume of smoke rose from her palm as then skin began regenerating at an extremely snail-paced speed. The regenerated skin was still very raw and red, the slight touch could bring a lot of pain to the person. But it would heal up in an hour.

"..."

"..."

She became strangely quiet for the next few minutes. I was too busy making sure the skin wouldn't just tear itself up. So I applied more healing ointments and a special bandage that would protect the area from further damage.

"You're quite all of a sudden," I said, continuing to wrap her hand in bandages.

"What? I thought you liked me having my trap shut."

"That's… not completely true. You may be annoying, loud, and foul-mouth, but I do appreciate your input on the matter. I prefer your honest attitude; even though it needs some work. And lastly, you don't bother hiding behind a mask with me." I wasn't trying to comfort her or make her feel good, my words were honest and straight to the point.

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"Well, that was cheesy as fuck. Did you get inspired by some shitty dollar-store romance novel?" She said with a grin, having fun mocking me. But I felt her tone was less… harsher than before. And her muscles were less tense when I touched her arm, making it easier to care for the wound.

Heh, at least I won't get bored around her.

{Break}

After a few more minutes of making sure everything was good, we made our war forward to the door. The wood was ancient, filled with mold and vines, carved with hundreds of different runes and symbols.

"I think it's better you stay behind, Raynare. I don't know who's or what's behind these doors, but whatever it is will be very dangerous."

"Ha! Are you worried about me all of sudden?"

Oh, how wrong she was, I may be a jerk and got the potential to be one of the biggest douchebags, but I still wouldn't treat her like a disposable asset.

That just wasn't me.

"Yes, I worry about you a lot. You're under my protection, contract or not. I will not just throw you into something that will just get you killed. There is nothing more I hate than betrayal." I'd rather die than become someone even remotely close to HER.

"O-oh… I didn't expect you to just…admit it so easily." Wow, did I finally get the best of Raynare? "I was expecting you to insult me or something…"

The Fallen had some combat skills for normal threats and strays but she paled in comparison to a 13 year old Akeno! Even Rias at that age was capable of defeating her as she is right now. I can't risk her life by bringing her along and she would be too much of a liability.

"This is a serious matter, I won't joke around when it comes to the safety of someone's life…"

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"No."

"...What?"

"I said no, I'm going with you no matter what you say. There is no way I'm going to disappoint Azazel-sama once again." She said stubbornly, crossing her arms, looking dead serious with her statement

"Aren't you worried about dying!?" Where was that cowardly attitude I saw back on the plane? She just had to grow a spine at the worst possible moment!

She didn't back away, "Of course I'm scared of dying, but I'd rather die than become a no-good fallen to Azazel-sama's eyes."

"Are you seriously risking your life over the opinion of someone else, who I need to remind you, indentured you to me!?" I just couldn't believe this girl. At this point, she was being stupid intentionally! "Just listen to me and go back, I'll vouch for you to Azazel, I'll tell him you've performed beyond my expectations and I'll even free you from the contracts after the mission!"

She slapped my hands away from her shoulders. "Well, I don't need your pity, if I'm going to get out of this mess, it'll be through my own effort. Move!" She pushed me away from the door and to my horror…

Bam!

Crash!

She kicked it open! The doors broke from their hinges and fell to the ground with a loud–Thump!–sound.

"Well? Stop wasting time and get moving!" Raynare ordered me as she walked forward leaving me behind. My jaw dropped to the floor as I couldn't believe what this girl had just done. Not only has she thrown away the chance to save her own skin, but she also announced our presence to the enemy!

"O-Oi! Wait!" I ran to catch up to her.

(A few minutes later)

I couldn't change her mind no matter what I tried. She was adamant to get done with this mission with or without me.

In the end, I could only sigh and let the matter drop. If the need arises, I'll just create an opening for her to escape.

The trail of blood continued on, more runes started to appear on the walls the closer we got to the source which was gathering the magic all around the region.

The narrow passage soon opened up to a large room where the concentration of magic far surpassed anything I've ever experienced. I shuddered as inhaling the air made my body fill to the brim with a soothing feeling.

"There is something in the middle," Raynare said as she brought back her [Light Spear].

"It's… a cauldron?" I noticed that the trail of blood would lead to the bronze ancient-looking cauldron where it was being filled drop by drop.

Wait… there was something inside it.

I carefully approached the middle, making sure to not step on some hidden pressure plates or activate any deadly traps and so on.

Inside the cauldron filled with blood, a slight amount of golden light came out of the liquid. The feeling was similar to Raynare's [Light Spear] and Akeno's [Holy Lightning]. Deciding to get my hands dirty and pulled up my sleeves and plunged them inside the pot to retrieve whatever was absorbing all of this energy.

"There, got it…" I nearly cut my finger with a sharp edge. It felt like a broken piece of something. I didn't have to guess for long as I fished out the mysterious item.

And to say I was shocked would be a HUGE understatement.

"What the heck!?" Even Raynare was surprised by the item in my hand…

… as it was none other than a third of a golden cup radiating unimaginable amounts of holy energy.

Out of every relic and sacred gear known to man, very few had a reputation so intense and so revered, that any faction would easily declare war in order to acquire it; even Heaven's faction.

"The Holy Grail…" I muttered in wonder and amazement, gazing intently at the legendary sacred relic in my hand. It looked just like the pictures shown in the records.

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"Afraid yer kinda wrong about tha item there brother, that's one of [Sephiroth Graal]... and a would be really happy if ya put it back in the [Cauldron of the Dagda]."

The wind stirred at his arrival, it blew with an oppressive force soon descending on the room with his arrival. The sheer weight of his power came into effect in a passive state and bore down on both me and Raynare.

With a grin on his face, his expression was similar to the day I met him. An ALIVE Sétante was standing in front of me nonchalantly; a crimson spear in his hands.

"Hey there Hachiman, I'm sorry it had to come to this." He said with a genuine sad smile, his voice sounding regretful for what's going to happen next.

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{Break}

-Third POV-

He was different from the beginning.

"You will achieve great things, with the soul of our hero; you shall bring back glory to our name."

Even at birth, he wasn't given the love of a mother or father. The memories of such an early period of life, still haunt his every waking moment.

"Are you sure he's the one?"

"Of course I am! Look at his hair!"

Being held in the arm of a stranger while watching the woman who had given him life lying listlessly on the ground. Beaten and bruised beyond anything, her clothes filthy and ripped.

"What of the father?"

"Who cares! She was a whore, so he's probably a random drunk … we should bring him in quickly, before SHE notices us."

They took him away, running away from the woman's corpse, not even giving it a proper burial. He still remembered looking back and seeing her eyes move in his direction. A single stare conveying a thousand words.

It was from then on he knew… that he wasn't normal.

They gave him a spear when he learned to walk.

"You are the only one capable of fulfilling our dream.

He spilled blood before he learned to talk.

"You will be our weapon against those who betrayed us."

Denied from any interaction, he only knew solitude and fighting as his sole companions.

"Kill him! Kill him and his heretic son! They turned their backs to our god!"

He never questioned anything, even after a decade of nothing but bloodshed and solitude.

"Hahahaha! With this, we will be back on her good grace! We will no longer be forgotten and return to her ladies' side!"

Battling for an ideal he knew little of, a belief he cared little for.

He knew of who they were talking about… not because he met her before, for the mere mention of her name brought in a flood of memories which were not his.

A range of memories that strengthen his mastery over spearmanship to the point of being unsurpassed by those far above his age.

The knowledge of rune-crafting grew deep roots in his mind, impossible to forget.

The ocean, the chilling wind, and roaring waves relaxed his mind, and the sensation of ocean water touching his skin brought a new session of never felt peace of mind.

The memories continued to pour out. Images of a dark and desolate realm of the dead, inhabited by a single person who held prowess with a great amount of instinctual fear inside his being.

A castle of incomprehensible architecture laying in the middle, holding the key to unimaginable power.

In a way, after he had seen through everything was when he was finally born.

The process of rebirth had been completed and with that, came in consciousness who knew what it wanted; freedom.

"Why didn't you kill those heretic creatures!? Their very existence is blasphemy to our goddess teachings! Do you dare go against her words!?"

He started to disobey.

"Fool! You're becoming just like them aren't you!? Repent! Repent! Repent! Repent! Repent!"

He no longer hurt or killed those who didn't deserve it.

"You're a wastrel, even your ancestor was a better dog than you!"

Instead of replying with silence–which he had done so for all of his life–he went on the offensive instead.

"What are you doin–Argh!"

He started killing them.

"Heretic! A heretic you have become! We took you in when no one was there for you. We clothed you, we made you what you are now! We are your masters and you are nothing but our dog, but you bit the very hands that fed you! Our god won't forgive yo—Eurgh!"

Their words had little effect on his morality, the cries of pain as his spear pierced their body gave him little to no joy.

When he stood alone in the place where he grew up, surrounded by nothing but the bodies of those he killed, he didn't cry or scream.

With nothing but his spear and a rag on him, he traveled the land. Seeking warmth and shelter anywhere he could. But little to no places accepted him, the fae ran away from the moment they sensed the ocean of blood of their own emanating from the spear.

Some townsfolk either got scared of him or yelled at him to go away. The children he wanted to play with threw rocks at him and uttered the same words as the adults. "Go away you freak!"

He recognized that something about him unsettled the normal human being. They wanted him gone or as far away as possible. Days turned into weeks which then turned into months. He was tired, hungry, and craving for a home.

The ocean only granted him so much, made everything a bit more bearable, but he had a limit and he had long gone past it.

Stopping at a village he found, he neither cared to avoid the locals for he had no energy left in his limbs, his will to live had long since been extinguished.

He sat down near a wall, his hair long and a tangled mess, his skin tainted for dirt and scars, and his clothes nearly completely destroyed. The thing he had with him was the spear which held onto firmly; never letting it go even once.

He hugged his knees and closed his eyes, waiting for the sweet release of death to take him away.

"Oh me lordy, poor little child, are ya okay!?" The voice of someone caught his attention. He tensed his body just in case a rock or something would be thrown in his direction.

Yet none of that happened, instead, a warm hand soon rested on top of his head.

"–!?"

He recoiled from the touch, feeling confused and scared from the feeling.

"Aye, don be scared, please don be scared! I won't hurt ya." He looked at the source of the voice and saw a large man with a fat belly, dressed in a white apron with the logo of a local bakery on it. He looked like your regular human. "Com ere, A won hurt ya." The man said with a warm smile, completely not caring about the spear as he didn't give it a look.

"What's yer name kiddo?"

"..."

"Ya got one?"

"..."

"Not much of a talker are ya?"

"..."

"Ya know… ya got some pretty interestin hair their kiddo. Reminds me tha legend of good old Cu Chulainn… Oh, wait! A just call ya Sétante, a fitting name a tell ya, hahaha!"

"–?" He was intrigued, the only name he got called before was either dog, you or something else. He never had gotten an official name.

"Oh a got som good old apple cake in me bag a brought for ma wife, she's been getting fat these last few months a tall ya, hahaha!"

He carefully took the cake from the man's hand, afraid the latter would do something violent and kill him with a rock or something.

'It's warm as well…' Hesitantly he opened his mouth and took a small bite of the pastry. He was exhausted and famished so he tried his best to not gobble up everything… but he ended up doing it anyway, amusing the fat man.

"Ma bakin is indeed tha best in all of Ireland!"

Sniff

"Eh? A-ah please don cry ma boy! A got with me more of them apple cakes with me!" The man panicked as he saw tears streaming down the boy's face. He fumbled and nearly dropped his container carrying all the cakes.

For the first time in his life, Sétante smiled and uttered his very first words.

"Thank you."

At that moment, he promised, to always protect this place against all forms of danger.

Even if he would have to go against the gods themselves.