chapter 7

"Youth is fleeting. Life has no inherent meaning, and nothing ever truly matters."

"Dude, if you get any edgier, people are going to start using you to cut their vegetables."

I rolled my eyes, tossing a light glare over my shoulder. "So punny. So very punny."

Marcus shrugged. "Hey, just so long as I don't have to hear you talk about how 'meaning has no meaning' I'm good."

"Is that a Rick and Morty reference?" I asked.

"Nah. Gravity Falls."

I rose an eyebrow. "Bill Cipher?"

He nodded. "Bill Cipher."

I chuckled. "Who ever knew that a triangle and an eyeball could be so fucking terrifying?"

"The illuminati?"

"…point."

I reached out to the device, taking a few short puffs, before coughing out, ignoring the slight smoke in my lungs.

"You know," I said, dryly. "What would you do if you had that much power?"

"What, the power to turn people's faces inside out if they piss me off?"

I grinned. "Yeah. That, and others."

He shrugged. "Probably do something bad I guess. Not take shit from anyone, take anything I wanted – live the fucking life. Hell – if you gave ultimate power to anyone, I don't think the first thing that'd cross their minds would be to start searching for the cure to cancer, or world peace."

I turned to stare at him. "Man, but isn't that just so fucking… selfish?"

"Hey, we're only human. We have to be selfish. Maslow's hierarchy of needs and all that shit. If you didn't have a shirt on your back and a roof over your head, are you really gonna think about getting a girlfriend?"

"Well no, not unless she has fetishes for homeless bums."

"Exactly. Priorities. Prioritizing." Marcus said. "So… if I did somehow get superpowers, I'd probably use it to get everything I ever wanted. Then, when I was done with that – I guess I could use it to make people's lives better. Or worse – kinda depends on whether or not they deserve it."

"And who deserves it?"

"Well, people that got a shitty hand in life. I can't help everyone that got a shitty hand, but people I can see who got one. I'd help them out, make things less shitty. But people who are genuine assholes – yeah, I'd mess with them."

"…but, we're assholes."

"No Seth, we're arseholes. There's a difference."

"I can't tell if it's you or the weed talking."

Marcus laughed. "Sure – blame it on the weed."

"Hey, Marcus?"

"Yeah, Seth?"

"I love you bro."

"Dude, that's fucking gay. You gotta add 'no homo' or it's gay."

"Shit. Forgot. No homo."

"Whatever. Get your pasty ass outta my house before your sister comes crashing in."

I blinked. "Your house? Wait, I thought we were at the college… dorms… how did I get…?"

"Probably cause you're in a dream. That shit tends to make stuff confusing. Think Inception, but trippier."

"…is that a word?"

"Hey, it's your fucking dream pal. Don't ask me."

I laughed. "I'm pretty fucking sure I'd know if I was drea–"

BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG!

XXXXXXX

…what… the fuck?

I groaned, touching the side of my head and cursing as loudly as I could from feeling a major fucking headache, and that wasn't even the least of my problems – I could feel a slight irritating sting on my chest, one that certainly hadn't been there before.

I looked down, only for my eyes to squeeze slightly as I stared at something that seemed to be imbedded in my chest. I moved to reach for it, grabbing it, and distinctly realizing it was warm to the touch.

"…are these… bullets?"

What the hell?!

My eyes immediately gazed upwards trying to understand where I was and how I'd gotten here. Why did I feel so muscular? Why was the weather so much colder? This room – why did it look familiar, yet… not –

Oh, yeah – I'd had that weird dream about waking up as a Skyrim Character in the High School DxD verse and I'd decided to kill Issei and absorb Ddraig.

A loud snort escaped my lips. Fuck – that had to be one of the craziest dreams I've ever –

"I think he might be awake. What do we do? What do we do?"

"We need to kill him now!"

"We already tried! The stake didn't work, and the holy bullets didn't even pierce his skin!"

Nani the fuck?!

I leapt to my feet, only to suddenly find my head smashing into the roof from the action, and myself falling back down on the bed, disorientated. I blinked away the confusion, and tried to roll off the bed – and I found myself slamming into the side of the wall instead.

Okay – what the everloving fuck is going on here? My body – it feels – it feels light –

Memories unbidden came to the forefront of my vision, and, like remembering to ride a bicycle after years and years of being a couch potato, I regained control, gently, gingerly, disconnecting from the wall and moving lightly on my feet. I rubbed my nose, as more and more memories began streaming through my mind –

These… aren't my memories?

I shook them off, even as I remembered being a pirate, a king, a traitor, a redcoat, a samurai, an assassin – as memories upon memories of watching the adventures of 'my' hosts filtered through my vision. I cursed, grabbing the side of my head as the memories threatened to overwhelm me – the memories – they –

"We should've run while we had the chance!"

"Are you joking? We're in the hands of the Red Dragon Emperor – and he's a god-forsaken vampire. If we ran – he'd come after us, and then, maybe he'd kill us instead of just using us."

It occurred to me, that I could hear the conversation acutely, as though they were standing right in front of me instead of being downstairs, and below me. The walls were thick, yet, I could hear their conversation without strain.

Enhanced hearing?

When I actively tried, I could hear much more, the beating of their hearts, the rush of blood flowing through their veins, the tiny sounds made by the wrinkling and rustling of clothes and micro-movements such as finger twitches, taps or scratches.

I focused outwards, and my hearing could pick up the sound of birds gargling water, the arguments of a married couple, the humming of a young child, the rapid footsteps of people moving in traffic –

I focused my hearing back to the house, focusing on the heartbeats. Two, no, three. The third heartbeat was slower, almost as if – unconscious? Asleep?

Fucking hell – enhanced hearing? When did I get enhanced hearing?

"If we'd gone before he woke up – fly out of the country –"

"What part of, Red Dragon Emperor don't you get? We're exorcists, low-level minions – we can't escape from him. Raynare, that bitch, couldn't escape from him if she tried. At worst, we'd piss him off and make him be rougher on us –"

"How can you accept this so casually?! Don't you know what he's going to do to us?"

"Like it isn't something Dohnaseek-sama or Mittelt-sama have done before. We're humans – they're monsters. This is how it works. You please them long enough, and maybe they decide they're bored with you and move on to something better. If not, you die, and considering all we've done, that means going to hell." I heard. "So, it's between an unescapable lake of eternal fire, or a few years of being fucked like a toy. Which sounds like the better bargain here?"

"We – we wouldn't go to hell. I mean – we've… we've been doing good work right? Michael-sama and the other angels, they'd give us a pass… won't they?"

A snort. "You're an idiot if you believe rogue exorcists 'get a pass.'"

Nervous biting of the fingers. Hard biting of the lips. "When he wakes up, he's going to know we tried to kill him."

"Tried and failed."

"What if he kills us for it?"

"Then let's pray they throw amazing welcome parties in hell."

"How are you so calm?!"

How indeed? I wondered to myself as well.

"Because I knew what I signed up for when I became an exorcist."

I chose that moment to descend down the stairs, with purposefully long, hard steps. Each one enough to reverberate to my eardrums like a thunderclap, and making it abundantly clear that someone was coming down the steps.

Upon getting to the bar, I spotted them. The two exorcists. One was standing as tall as she could, despite how badly her legs shook and shuddered to tell how frightened she was. The other, unfortunately, was a whimpering sack that hid behind the first. There was a third exorcist, on the floor, apparently unconscious. I wondered what the story was behind that one.

My gaze flickered across the entire room, and something struck me as odd.

Where's Sana?

"How long?"

"A-a-ah?" the first exorcist stammered.

"How long have I been asleep?"

"T-t-three days." She answered.

Three days? What the fuck – did absorbing Ddraig really put me out cold for three whole days?

"Go."

"A-a-ah?"

I rolled my eyes. "Did I stutter?"

"N-no s-sir."

"Go. Take your friend and leave. I have no real need of you."

They stared at me like I'd just told them to twerk for Queen Victoria.

"If I repeat myself one more time –"

I didn't need to. They scampered out as hastily and as blatantly as they could, grabbing their companion with some effort and making a rapid beeline for the door. Less than thirty seconds afterwards, I found myself standing alone in the Dead Man's Drink. I listened to their footsteps, realizing that the exorcists had gone a fair distance away before hijacking a car, and then making off with it, the squeal of the tires against the road echoing sharply in my ears as they drove like the black plague was on their heels.

I stopped 'focusing' my hearing on that, and instead, focused on other, distinct conversations around the city that I could hear.

"…she didn't!"

"Damn right she did! Went straight down her thro –"

I rolled my eyes. No, didn't need that. I searched harder, finding what I believed to be a news station.

"And in recent news, repairs are still underway for the sudden tremors that shook the country three days ago, leaving the Yokohama Road closed to vehicles and pedestrians until further notice."

Wait…

Tremors?

I took a deep breath.

My mind was calm, sharp, acute. There was bloodlust, but it was controlled. Honed. Like a blade. There was normal lust, but it was refined. There was something…

Off.

I'd inherited Ddraig's soul. I expected to be more volatile than I'd been before. More crazy, a bit more… evil. But...

Ddraig was a tranquil fire.

… How much of what I'd done was me, and how much of it was my videogame character messing with my head?

I disregarded the thoughts. For now, I'd focus on what was important, which was, currently, figuring out what the hell has been happening.

And… eavesdropping on all of Kuoh.

Sue me.

XXXXXX

Cold, chilled breeze that indicated the slow coming of winter hit her legs and made her shudder slightly. Strange as it was, despite her personality, she was not all too fond of skirts. Of course, if she did have to wear them, she preferred them short enough to not obstruct her knees when walking, or, when she felt like it, when running.

This was one of those instances.

She sprinted down the road in a zigzag pattern, awkwardly dodging pedestrians in her hurried dash to make it to school.

"Hey! Watch it!"

"Sorry!"

They didn't recognize her uniform. Or, they didn't pay attention to it. She found it strange, how no one seemed to care or question the school where he came from. No one seemed interested in investigating. Not a single reporter bothered one of them, cornered them, or questioned them about the incident.

Then again, considering the country-wide tremors that broke out on the same day, it could merely be that they forgot. Or, that they were busy with news regarding attempts to gain information about the sudden tremors that shook the country, and why the emergency alarms and smartphone notifications had not been triggered.

Her mind raced as did her body. She could not help it recently. The ongoing construction and repairs had delayed her making her take a longer route, and she labeled it as another hurdle tossed in the way of what was supposed to be a perfectly jolly high school life.

Unlike the other teenagers of Japan, who were cramming their lives out and stressed to hell and back with preparations for the Entrance Exams into the top tier universities of the country, she was lucky enough to attend Kuoh Academy, where, as long as her grades and GPA were high enough and consistent, she would immediately be granted admission into Kuoh University upon graduation.

Sure, the school was expensive. But, she reasoned and convinced her parents with reasons, that it would be worth it. She could get to live the normal teenage life without stress. She envisioned maybe turning down a few passionate requests and suitors, eventually participating in the fair, drama, joining a club and somehow becoming president of it – the complete high school package that could only be found in Shoujo Manga.

But things were never that simple.

The illustrious academy came within sight, and she hastened her steps, panting slightly from exertion. Her gaze turned to other people coming to school, and she noted, like always, they moved in packs.

Groups.

Herds.

Friends formed social circles and did not often invite others into them. Hierarchies were formed based on subtle notions of class and wealth. Kuoh Academy was a prestigious girl's school before becoming co-ed, one could not expect a school that distinguished to have catered to those who were incapable of handling the appropriate status that came with it. It was only common sense, hence, that a large number of the student body consisted of the children of the elite. Scions of wealthy conglomerates, heiresses of ancient and noble families, daughters of senators, politicians, eminent business men and people whose words held a strong sway in the way the country was ran. There were also foreign students with clearly regal bloodlines and appearances that would leave supermodels slitting their throats in mouth-foaming envy.

She wasn't ugly, by any definition of the word. With her brown braided hair and slightly oversized glasses, freckles, flabby underarms and average bust, she knew that she was attractive enough for certain people to fantasize about her. She would never turn heads on the street, but if she took off her clothes, there would be a fair number of rising reactions.

However, for all her looks, in Kuoh Academy, it was effectively the same as being an average police man in the midst of Super-Soldiers.

It also made matters worse that she wasn't wealthy, charismatic, or influential. She didn't have the same sort of allure held by the majority of the girls present, the allure of a young woman from a family with wealth and power to spare. She didn't have the same training and experience. In many ways, Aika knew, she was found wanting.

"Look, it's Rias-sama!"

"She's coming to school with her entourage isn't she?"

"The Occult Research Club… so Gothic. I heard that they have a whole building dedicated to it – ""

She found herself unable to keep her gaze off the scene. Rias Gremory was a being that could have walked straight out of a supermodel magazine and no one would have been ever the wiser. As a foreign student, she broke the expected norms of racial discrimination to her Japanese counterparts, merely because of her appearance. Vivid, long red hair that flowed off her head, the color of blood. Spotless, clear skin, glistening with a light, year-round tan that added a hint of sensuality to her features. Rotund, corpulent breasts which hung like thick melons over a thin waist that almost had Aika wondering if the girl had any ribs or internal organs. She moved on legs that seemed to catch the sun's glare and reflect back rich, succulent thighs that softly spoke of the secret bounties between them.

It wasn't just her beauty, but her charisma, her aura, her smile. When flanked by her best friend, Akeno, the duo were like goddesses descended upon the mortal realm to grant men the first sip from the shallow waters of divinity.

The school mascot, Koneko Toujo, followed behind, a figure that was not quite as dazzling as Rias, but nonetheless possessed a sheer 'kawai' feel. She was like someone you wanted to cuddle, hold, and twist around in your arms in happiness.

Then, arguably the most handsome and desirable boy in the school, Yuuto Kiba, stood behind Koneko, completing the entourage. He possessed a smile that spoke of kindness and warmth, and his very presence evocated the feelings of loyalty and nobility. His back was straight, his posture, firm, his gaze, straight ahead, focused and determined.

It was an ensemble of desirable individuals. No matter who you were, you would gaze upon the members of the Occult Research Club, and see something which you lacked, or something which you desperately desired. Boys either wanted to be with Rias or to be Kiba. Girls either wanted to be Rias or to be with Kiba.

She found herself wanting both.

Of course, she knew that it could never happen. Nowhere, except in the dark twisted recesses of her most questionable fantasies, would she find herself possessing both.

"Kiryu-san."

The sound of her name drew her attention, and she realized who it was, Brown hair, sharp eyes, flanked by a girl with pink hair, and numerous other girls who had wooden swords wrapped in white cloth slung over their backs.

"Miyashi-san" she greeted.

Miyashi Murayama gave her a short, polite nod.

"I heard what you did."

Aika blnked in confusion. Then, it her, the only thing that they could be talking about. The approving gazes, shining with blatant respect.

"It was nothing – I just – "

"We've been trying to get those scum expelled for a while now. And all you did to make them leave was to tell them to." Murayama cut her off, her voice inflecting what seemed to be a hybrid of disbelief and respect. "You have my thanks for that."

Aika swallowed. "I – I didn't – "

I didn't mean to make them leave the school? She couldn't admit that.

"Considering what one of their members was capable of, I am glad I no longer have to share the same academy with potential rapists masquerading as students."

Aika resisted the urge to wince. Only barely.

"Isn't that going a bit too far? I mean, they were annoying but, I don't think they'd really –"

"Are you actually defending them?"

She balked. "What? No – I'm…" she found it hard to answer. She knew why, she knew, and she understood, that behind the veneer of porn watching idiots, Matsuda and Motohama were harmless. They loved breasts and women too much to force themselves on anyone. She had found a sort of camaraderie with the duo, because she knew, she was as perverted, if not more so, than they were.

But – she got a free pass because she had a pussy and they didn't.

Her perverted comments were taken as light teasing as best and dirty jokes at worst, while theirs was seen as blatant sexual harassment.

Admitting she watched copious amounts of porn and masturbated everyday only got her some dismayed or scandalous looks, most of which were forgotten and blown over easily. Whereas them admitting the same immediately put them in the category of the disgusting, the desperate, and the pathetic.

She didn't need to peek on girls because she could walk into the changing rooms without problem. But she could also – and had – walked into the male changing rooms to get an eyeful, while claiming it was an accident. There was no way they could pull off a stunt like that without being beaten within an inch of their lives.

The only difference between them was that her perversion was seen as a quirk, a harmless part of her character. Theirs, however, was viewed in the same light that one viewed the fecal matter of a wild beast.

She took in a deep breath. "I'm just saying… maybe we were a little too hard on them. Their best friend did just die –"

Murayama, took in a sharp breath. "Now you're defending the scum who raped his own mother?"

"No!" she denied "That's not what I'm doing! I'm not defending Issei – I'm just trying to sympathize with –"

"Sympathize?" Katase was the one who spoke. Her voice hovered, increasing in pitch and in sheer incredulity. "He forcibly held me and screamed in my face, my wrists are still bruised from his hands, and you want to sympathize with him?"

Aika grimaced a bit. "I agree, Matsuda went a little too far, but, you know, you started it by calling them names and accusing them of – "

"I started it?" Katase's voice trembled. Her entire body trembled. "Because I'm the one who peeps on them when all they want to do is enjoy their privacy. I'm the one who looks up their skirt when the wind blows and in order to know the color of their underwear. I'm the one who constantly leers at their bodies like a piece of meat, and openly discuss ways about how to masturbate to it. I'm the one who does that. Me. Isn't that right?"

Aika winced. "I – I didn't mean –"

"Forget it. I've heard enough." Murayama spoke up, her lips twisting into a sneer. "To think I was about to ask you to join us – a girl who sympathizes with rapists."

The accusation sent something cold running down her spine. "I don't –"

"She must probably think it would be fun. To be violated like that." One of Murayama's followers jeered.

"No, I –"

"What were we expecting? It's Aika after all. No doubt she fantasizes about sick things like that. Just look at her. The only way she'd ver have sex was if she was raped."

Aika recoiled as if physically slapped.

"That explains why she cut her skirt so short. Trying to tempt guys, but failing because no one is desperate enough to go for her."

She found herself staggering. Her chest burning. Her face on fire. Her hands cold and sweaty even as a lump formed in her throat, and the words, the sharp, bladed words, carved themselves past her skin and etched into her brain and her heart. Insecurities she tried desperately to hide and cover up, brought to air in the most numbing way possible.

"You're no different from them." Katase said, as though coming to a realization. "There's probably a part of you that's convinced that Hyoudou was somehow a good person rather than a waste of space and those two minions of his were just misunderstood 'nice guys'. You're delusional, because accepting that they were bad means accepting the fact that you're just as worthless as they are."

Katase's lips twisted into a scowl. The girl wanted to say something else, only to pause as the bell rang. For the first time in her life, Aika was saved by it.

"Let's go. Let's leave the whore and get to class. She'll get what's coming to her, one way or another." Murayama said, her eyes landing on Aika's form and making the girl flinch at the intensity of disgust she saw within them.

Aika Kiryu stood, her legs, overcooked noodles. She didn't trust herself to take a step, lest she fall. She didn't trust herself to speak, lest her voice crack. She didn't trust herself to do anything, but stand, silently, with a burning sensation in a throat. It hit her, eventually. The realization that her dreams of a Shoujo High School experience, were over.

+++++++ Force Without Balance +++++

"…okay. Butterfly effect is in full swing here. That's interesting."

I tuned out most of the background noise and focused on that little tidbit of info. Aika had sent the perverted trio packing? The perverted trio were hated that much?

I wanted to chuckle, but I couldn't find it in me.

…

What the fuck is wrong with me?

I'd normally be laughing like a maniac or giggling like a schoolgirl if I'd heard such news before. I'd probably have a whole slew of colorful expletives and metaphors to use for the situation. Now, I just observed it on with a passing interest.

I felt like a significant amount of my zeal, my passion was muted. Dulled. Even in my own head, I sounded… different. I couldn't tell if this was a sudden onset of maturity, or if Ddraig's soul was affecting me in more ways than before.

Was this how Ddraig felt all the time? So… detached from everything? He'd practically seen it all and done it all, and there was nothing which could either truly irritate, annoy, or anger him, nor was there anything that could truly fascinate him. He was apathetic to everything –

But that didn't fit the Ddraig from the series? Did it?

I decided to focus on something else. Such as, finding Sana. Where had that Asian woman vanished to anyway? I rose my hand, closing my eyes and casting, arguably, the most bullshit spells in the Skyrim game.

[Clairvoyance]

The ability to find any 'goal.'

In Skyrim, it pointed you to the quest marker, but, lore-wise, it was essentially a form of precognition/scrying. Which was effectively what it did in the real world, letting me find anyone and/or anything, so long as it was my 'goal' to do so.

The image of a young black-haired Asian woman came to mind, and I stared, disbelievingly, as I realized that the image was also in a different surrounding. A surrounding that wasn't even remotely Japanese.

"India? She went… to India?"

I was having a hard time wrapping my head around this –

"Lydia ditched me."

I blinked.

"Wow. Lydia ditched me."

Most likely, the [Bend Will] Shout wore off, and, without any good or even remotely justifiable reason to stick around, she'd gotten as far, far, far away from me as possible. Or, as possible for her anyway. India was still in Asia, although a bit far off from Japan – and I really didn't feel like travelling to another country to hunt her down for escaping my slavery. From her perspective, I was the dangerously powerful supernatural being who made her his minion and essentially raped her time and time again –

Well it was technically consensual, but she was essentially brainwashed, so… no. Her image in my mind was that of a jumpy, frightened person, and even as she moved through the streets, she seemed hesitant, constantly looking over her shoulder, and flinching if someone so much as patted her on the shoulder. If I didn't know any better, I'd assume she was someone suffering from PTSD.

I should have made her my Thrall rather than relying on a shout… she definitely wouldn't have run away if that was the case.

Really fucking regretting letting those exorcist women leave now…

Why did I do that anyway?

Shit, I hope I wasn't going soft?

I deactivated the spell with a sigh, before craning my neck and looking around the mostly empty bar. A bar I didn't know how to run, for the most part. Well, I had a lot of memories on bars and bar tips, and I could probably run it on my own –

I blinked.

"What the fuck is this?!"

I slapped myself twice.

I have the powers of one of the Heavenly Dragons, and I was thinking about running a bar? Even with just my Skyrim inventory and skills, I could be rich beyond my wildest dreams. Why the hell would I want to run a bar?

My goal was to fuck all the waifus!

The waifus goddamn it!

I could use my overwhelming power and force them all to be subjugated to my will, taking them as I wanted – no one would be able to stop me –!

…Why did that idea suddenly seem so… pathetic in my mind? So… cheap? Easy?

I furrowed my eyebrows in irritation. Something was seriously messing with me, and I couldn't tell what. What would I normally do at times like this? I'd bounce thoughts off someone, enabling me to talk to myself, but with the added benefit of the other person putting in some comments and perspectives I hadn't thought off. Back home, Marcus was the one who helped me out. Here, I'd had Sana for that purpose –

Before she ditched me –

Yes, before she decided to stop being the enslaved fuck-toy of the powerful vampire.

"…I'm not going insane, am I?"

I paused.

"Well, more insane."

There was no answer. A part of me wondered what I was expecting. There was no one in the bar save for myself and a few hundred thousand insects I could hear crawling around. The footsteps of ants seemed to echo even more loudly to my ears than my own heartbeat.

I grabbed a chair, sitting down, and scowling at nothing in particular as I attempted to take stock of my own emotions. There were apparently consequences of absorbing Ddraig's soul and using that Shout –

That shout –

The shout did… something – but… I couldn't remember –

Should I use it again?

No, bad idea. It caused some god-forsaken tremors the last time I used it. If I did it again, I might end up causing earthquakes by mistake. More than that, I felt that the shout was partially responsible for this blasé way I felt. The exorcists attempted to kill me, clearly, and I just… let them go.

Me.

The same guy who had every intention of terminating an entire Yakuza branch because I felt one of their members (Sana) had cheated me, and conspired to kill me. Yeah, something was definitely wrong.

I closed my eyes, taking a long, deep breath, and then I searched within, to find the deep well that was my soul.

"Ddraig? Are you there?"

No response.

Of course, he wasn't there. He was me now, or, part of me, or was it that I was him? I couldn't tell which was which – Ddraig and I were essentially the same person – the burning red fire that was his soul was melted over a cold dark essence that was mine. All his experiences and knowledge were mine, although, it was so vast that I pushed most of it to the back of my mind in order to avoid being overwhelmed by it. My own memories, the memories of Seth, stayed at the forefront, although I could tell that the personality was not entirely the same – bits and pieces of red seemed to seep in –

"It's here."

My eyes snapped open, and I flickered my gaze outside, to the sound of the voice that drew my attention. The voice sounded familiar. It came from outside the shop. Ten feet away. Female. Young?

"Are you certain?"

Another voice. Female. Speaking over a communications device. Most importantly, I knew this voice.

"Yes, Raynare-sama." The first voice said. "The shop didn't exist up to a few seconds ago. There was nothing in its place but an alleyway, and people didn't seem to pay any attention to it. However, it just… appeared out of nowhere, and people… they're acting like the shop has always been there. As though there is nothing out of the ordinary."

…what?

"Keep watch over the place Kalawarner. I'll contact Azazel-sama immediately."

The sound of movement, a nod? "Should I approach the shop?"

"Not unless you have no value for your life." Raynare snarked. "Just keep watch, and tell me if anything else happens."

"As you command, Raynare-sama."

A click, and the sound of a sigh and disgruntled muttering hit my ears. I pursed my lips together as I felt a slight headache coming on.

What the everloving fuck is going on here?

My shop had been… invisible? To people?

She said it didn't exist up until a few seconds ago. So, she didn't see the exorcists leave?

The answer to all my questions lay in finding out what in the world my Shout did and why it knocked me out for three full days. Probably, it would shed some light on why I felt so… apathetic to a lot of things, assuming it wasn't just Ddraig's soul mixing with mine that was the reason. There was the tiny-issue of it causing world-shaking tremors, but, if I used just one word of the shout – I doubted I'd have that issue.

So, I inhaled.

"MU –"

"Stop."

My mouth clamped shut.

I was no longer alone in the shop.

An overwhelming feeling of sheer power crashed upon my shoulders and I found myself staggering to the ground. Gravity multiplied itself a hundred times and I spread eagle on the floor, unable to lift my face upwards to find even the slightest justification for the foreboding feeling. My chest burned in my lungs, and I realized that my lips couldn't move.

The sound of softly clicking heels drew my attention. More so, I realized that I couldn't hear the heartbeat or blood-flow of whatever it was. I only knew that it was female because of that one word it had uttered beforehand.

"You can stand."

The pressure immediately vanished.

Faster than I felt I could move, faster than anything I'd ever done before, I rose, reaching into my inventory for Mehrunes' Dagger with my left hand whilst simultaneously charging the [Paralysis] spell with my right hand.

Ouroboros Dragon Resisted Paralysis

…

Fuck.

FUCK!

Mehrunes' Dagger clashed against the skin of small, black-haired, black-eyed young woman who was practically topless except for two 'crosses' that barely covered her nipples, and thick dark shorts.

To my credit, the dagger left a small, thin line of blood.

Ouroboros Dragon Resisted Mehrunes Dagger

Motherfucker.

She resisted the Insta-kill effect?

MOTHERFUCKER.

I could feel my blood pumping even as I jumped away in sheer reflex. I stood, steadily, unsurely, taking in for the first time, the short, child-like form of the being in front of me. Already, I watched, as her wound sizzled sharply, before healing, no sign or evidence that I'd ever just cut her.

Her eyes and expression hovered between complete apathy, and boredom. Her appearance was a little bit scandalous from what I remembered in canon, and it certainly wasn't Gothic Lolita she was wearing. It could barely be considered clothes to begin with.

"We already heard your challenge." She intoned lifelessly. "I hid you from them – from him. I won't do it again."

I stared at her. "Challenge? What challenge? What are you talking about?"

"Do not repeat your challenge until you are ready." She said. "He won't like it if you do."

"Wait – I don't –"

One second, she was there, and the next, she was gone.

A shiver ran down my spine, and I realized, for the first time, that there was sweat on my brow.

~~~~~~~Force Without Balance ~~~~~~~~

"Hey slut!"

"Hiya whore."

"What's good skank?"

"I heard there's a bunch of holes cut out in one of the boy's bathroom stalls. Finally found yourself an office, right Kiryu?"

Aika found herself stumbling and landing on the floor for the umpteenth time that day, by an "accidental" pair of feet which tripped her. The problem was, her skirt was short, so when she fell, everyone behind her would get a perfect view of her velvet red underwear, and this only led to more problems.

The general problem with information spreading via word-of-mouth was the tendency for facts to be switched up, misinterpreted, or misquoted in the transition from one person to another.

The information about her spread, it spread fast, and it spread wrongly.

First, it had been "Aika defends perverted trio, because she was secretly their fuck buddy."

But that, of course, didn't stick. It went on to "Aika defends all rapists and actively helps them if she can."

That one, stuck. It stuck, and it got worse, becoming "Aika defends all rapists and actively helps them if she can, and she insists that rape isn't all that bad because she's a crazy nymphomaniac sadomasochist."

Effortlessly, in one swell stroke, she was made the school's acceptable target. She found herself being tripped in the hallways and in class, found gum in her hair and on her chair, found a sign glued on her back with the words "Please Rape Me" and discovered that someone tore holes in her gym outfit and wrote on it with permanent marker "For Public Use."

That was not even counting the constant verbal bullying. Girls were the ones who promoted the slut-shaming, and with Murayama's crew backing it up, most of the girls eventually felt free to call her a slut, a whore and a prostitute to her face. The guys didn't, as they were reluctant to get accused of assault, but they assisted the girls in subtle, minor ways, and would either chuckle or look away to any bullying.

The students of Kuoh Academy hadn't always been this vindictive, but it was the worst possible time for her to have been picked as an "acceptable" target. One of their students was dead, dead from committing a heinous crime, and a sudden tremor hit the entire country on the same day that left significant property damage and quite a few injuries.

People were on edge.

They were desperate for a diversion. A distraction. Something, anything, which could help them release their pent up stress and uncertainty.

Then, she came along; an acceptable target.

A glorified punching bag. A walking catharsis machine. The human equivalent of screaming in frustration into your pillow.

The teachers were not inclined to help her. If anything, it was the opposite. The school wanted to maintain the status quo, they wanted to find a way to ease students back into the classroom, to find an outlet for the mixed and uncertain fear held by the students. So, they turned a blind eye to it all, pretending as though she didn't exist. The status quo was more important than the happiness of one girl who was neither rich, nor important, nor famous, nor beautiful enough to be worth their aid.

This was Japan after-all. A high-stress nation, and home to the people who invented the infamous kamikaze attacks and the practice of seppuku. The spirit of self-sacrifice, or, the sacrifice of the one for the many, was something that was rooted deep into their psychology, into their subconscious. History would stand and tell you that the Japanese were the sort of people who threw themselves from cliffs to die after they lost the Second World War, because they had all firmly believed that they would be tortured, mutilated, and worse, if they were captured.

They believed it, because it was what they would do to their enemies. So why would their allies treat them differently? That sort of cold ruthlessness could not be washed over or hidden by technological advancement or buried in the history books.

Hence, if she couldn't handle the "light teasing" from her schoolmates, it was of no business of the teaching staff.

Fine, Aika decided. If the teaching staff wouldn't help her, she'd go to someone who would.

"Kiryu-san. I am currently rather too occupied to handle any unprovable claims of bullying."

Or so she thought.

Aika sat in the Student Council Office, unable to stop herself from staring in disbelief to the young woman who sat across from her. Shitori Souna, the enigmatic 'night-mode' to Rias Gremory. She was beautiful, yes, although not extremely so. With her hair cut in a plain style, and the glasses which framed her eyes, she possessed the beauty of a high-caliber office woman, and the stone-cold, no-nonsense attitude to match. Supposedly, Shitori Souna was the daughter of one of Japan's most wealthy conglomerates. What she lacked in physical aesthetics, and overwhelming charisma, she possessed in spades with her intellect.

"Unprovable?" Aika asked, her voice tethering into the tone of disbelief. "My clothes were vandalized! My hair – my –"

"Did you see who was responsible?"

The question stopped her cold.

"No, but –"

"Can you point to one particular person as the instigator?"

Aika bit her lip. She wanted to call out Murayama and her gang, but… she didn't have any evidence. Any proof. Other than a pseudo-threat, there was almost nothing linking the current bullying spree to her. She couldn't even point out any other one person who had tripped her or insulted her, because it was going to be her word against the words of dozens of students covering and protecting that person.

"No, but I –"

"Then I cannot help you Kiryu-san."

Aika resisted the urge to scream into her face. "It's everyone! You know it's everyone!"

"I understand your frustration, Kiryu-san, but it is ill-advised to make slanderous and unprovable claims against your schoolmates." Souna adjusted her glasses. "As it stands, many of them have rather notable reputations to uphold, some of which are delicate, and such accusations would disrupt that delicacy, and spell unfortunate consequences."

Aika's blood ran cold as she realized what was happening. "You – you're –"

"If, you were, somehow, to provide irrefutable evidence and a credible suspect to back up your accusations, I could look into the matter and report it to the appropriate staff. If you cannot, however –"

"The staff won't do anything to stop it." Aika gritted her teeth. "You know that – you know –"

"I assure you Kiryu-san, Kuoh Academy is a world-class institution, and we would take any verifiable claims of bullying and/or harassment seriously."

"Unless you've already had one reputation-damning hit and are trying to avoid another."

Souna's lips twitched.

"The reputation of the school is no more valuable than the happiness of its individual members."

If Aika had lacked a dozen IQ points, she would have almost believed the regurgitated line.

She's in on it. Aika realized bitterly. She knows what's happening, and she's not going to do anything to stop it.

"Is there anything else I can help you with, Kiryu-san?"

Aika shook her head, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "No – nothing."

She sat there, in silence, for several seconds. "I guess I kind of had this coming… didn't I? This – this was what those three idiots faced all the time. No one believed them if they were innocent, people treating them like dirt. It's a fucking wonder they didn't all fly off the deep end sooner. I-I've only faced this for one day and I'm already –"

"I am rather quite occupied, Kiryu-san." Souna cut in. "If there are no other issues which require my assistance, I need to return to my work."

"O-oh. Right. Sorry."

She left the office, realizing how hard it was to swallow, becoming consciously aware of how her face burned and her eyes stung harshly. Her chest burned, it burned hot and made her put her arms around herself to try and stop the burning.

A small part of her wanted to believe that it'd eventually end. Things would die down, and people would forget. No one would bother her again, and people would let her be. It was just the tension, the circumstances, all of it, conspiring against her.

Things would get back to normal.

Things would calm down again.

She desperately wanted to believe it.

Sona Sitri rubbed her temples as she watched the girl leave the office.

The heiress of the Sitri Clan was not stupid. She knew of course, about the recent bullying campaign against the Kiryu girl. She knew, because Murayama and Katase, amongst others, had approached her and requested that she stay out of it. Sona had no real reason to refuse. It was an arrangement which would help focus the negativity of the entire school on a single target, rather than allowing it to fester and grow randomly. Of course, she established that no permanent damage should be done, and the very second anything was done which would require the girl to get medical or legal attention, the bullying would stop.

Already, Sona had seen the positives. Whereas yesterday, students moved around the halls with a form of resigned, depressed aura, seeped in with jumpy, paranoid tendencies, today, the entire student body got numerous laughs and moved with purpose, as humans tended to when they found a common ground (or enemy) to focus on. Even those who were morally against the bullying, watched with reluctant amusement and schadenfreude to see what ill-gotten fate would befall the girl next.

It was a rather timely distraction, and as far as Sona was concerned, trading the happiness of one girl for that of an entire school was a fantastic deal.

There was, of course, still the heart of the matter. The reason for the student's unease.

"Have we been able to find anything?"

Her Queen appeared beside her, shaking her head. "No, kaicho. Somehow, all traces of the energy seemed to have vanished after the tremors hit."

Sona pursed her lips. It had only been two days. Two days since Hyoudou Issei died, and the mysterious mind-boggling power that was unleashed caused hundreds of thousands in infrastructural damages. A few dozen people died and numerous others were injured in one way or another. Yet, Sona couldn't track down the source. It irked her. It was a mystery, and she disliked mysteries.

The tremors were focused on Japan, mostly, but the energy spike had been global. The entire world had felt it.

The entire world felt a massive power surge that came from Kuoh Town, Japan.

She knew what this meant. She knew the catastrophic consequences of this. A part of her was tempted to immediately take her peerage and hide out in the underworld for a few months until everything died out, but she could not. Rias, the stubborn girl, claimed that Kuoh was her territory.

This meant, protecting your territory from all invaders and comers, whoever they may be.

Sona was not as confident. She was powerful, yes, but she doubted her ability to take on the legions of battle-crazed maniacs, angels, gods, demons, and other beings that would flock to Kuoh in order to find the source of that power and either defeat it, or recruit it.

On one hand, successfully fighting them all off would immediately boost her reputation, and that of her peerage, in the Underworld. On the other hand, failing to do so, would diminish it, and if she was killed –

She did not even want to consider the devastation that her sister would release upon those unfortunate to have done the deed.

"Kaicho."

Her Vice-President's voice was filled with urgency that it did not normally possess.

"One of our familiars – detected something." Tsubaki said, sounding nervous. "Someone. Someone… powerful."

~~~~~~~~~~ Force Without Balance ~~~~~~~~~~

Aika left school early that day.

She knew, of course, that there was a nasty surprise planned for her by her bullies once the final bell rung, but she wasn't going to wait to find out what it was. No, she'd endured enough. No one would help her, no one wanted to be associated with her, and it was pointless to try and learn anything in class, when her best attempts to answer questions or participate in activities led to her being scorned, insulted, or mocked.

So she left, her small schoolbag flung over her back as she navigated the streets leading back to her home. It was different, to leave school early, and not see the roads and streets filled to the brim with different students attempting to use different modes of transportation to get around. It was weird, a bit off-putting as well. Instead, she saw a combination of different types of individuals, mostly construction workers, road officials and University students, going about their day –

She did blink when she saw a nun though.

Young, blonde-haired, and green-eyed, and clearly, blatantly looking lost and out of place. On any other day, Aika would have rushed to approach the nun and help her, or maybe tease her. Had she not endured a tiring, harsh day of bullying, insults, and assaults, she would have felt charitable enough to help a stranger in need. Had she not remembered, that all her problems started because she wanted to help a hapless female in the form of Katase, she would have gone ahead to help the nun.

But she did, and so, instead, she walked past.

"U-U-Um, a-a-ano, I – I –"

And she kept walking, even as the nun called out to her. She grit her teeth, forcing herself not to look back, but she did, just a bit, and almost wanted to punch herself for how dejected the girl looked. So, she steeled her mind to turn around and help –

Only for a silver-haired, handsome young man to appear and approach the girl, asking her some questions.

Aika's brain stopped in its tracks, noting the leather jacket, the chain, the long, styled silver hair, and the gorgeous face that sent heat rushing through her. She turned about instantly, reservations changed, only to stop cold when the man seemed to turn and give her a stare that seemed filled with some type of disgust or loathing. As though he were staring at a revolting specie of cockroaches.

Aika could only swallow sharply, turn around, and then walk away, her chest burning and her throat, tight.

At the very least, she'd listened enough to hear the name of the handsome boy, who, she would shamelessly, and abashedly think of as she drowned her sorrows with self-pleasure. She would envision his face in the recesses of her mind.

"Vali…" She whispered.

She would enjoy moaning it tonight................