Disclaimer: The rights belong to their respective creators.
The only thing that would count as mine would be this story
""Character speaking.
""Character thinking.
"Word" What the character sees.
(-)
The darkness enveloped him, heavy and suffocating, like an endless ocean of shadows. Issei couldn't move his body, thick chains of dark, cold metal bound him, digging into his skin with each pull into the depths. A reddish glow shimmered in the distance, a reflection of embers that seemed to grow with every moment, projecting a scorching heat that burned even from afar.
His thoughts were a mess. Fragments of memories fought to surface, but every time he tried to hold on to one, it vanished like smoke in the air. All that was left was emptiness.
"What... what's happening? Why... why do I feel like... I'm not here anymore?"
His voice sounded weak, almost inaudible in the vastness of that nothingness. He tried to breathe, but the air, if there was any, was heavy, dense like water. His lungs burned as he tried, and his mind was trapped in a whirlwind of emotions: sadness, rage, fear... and a deep, stabbing sense of loss that he couldn't name.
Suddenly, a deep and familiar voice broke the silence, resonating in his mind like a distant echo:
"You're still here, but barely. Your spirit is crumbling, consumed by what you cannot accept."
Issei lifted his gaze, but the darkness remained an impenetrable wall. However, the voice was unmistakable, though it sounded different, heavier.
"D-Ddraig... is that you? Where are you? What's happening to me?"
There was a long silence, so oppressive it almost seemed to crush his thoughts. After what felt like an eternity, a figure began to materialize before him. First, it was a faint glow, then the outline of an immense dragon, surrounded by an aura crackling like dying flames. But something was wrong with Ddraig. His figure was more faint, almost transparent, as if he too were on the verge of disappearing.
"This is not a physical place," the dragon finally spoke. "It is a reflection of what remains of you, partner. Of what you are willing to face... or ignore."
Issei lowered his gaze. The chains began to glow with a dark light, and small flames sprouted from their links, slowly rising toward his arms and legs. The heat intensified with each passing second, making him sweat and shiver. The embers illuminated his face, revealing deep circles under his eyes and a weariness that seemed impossible to relieve.
"It doesn't matter anymore," Issei muttered. "It's all over, isn't it? I've lost everything. My friends, my body, my life... What's the point of continuing to fight if everything breaks in the end?"
His words were a broken whisper, full of a deep exhaustion that seemed to consume him from within.
Ddraig growled softly, not with anger, but with a mixture of frustration and sadness.
"Is this how you choose to end it, partner? Crawling in this abyss without even trying to resist? This isn't the person I knew."
The weight of those words hit Issei like a blow. He clenched his teeth, but couldn't respond. How could he refute something that, deep down, he knew was true?
"If you think this is the end," Ddraig continued, with increasing harshness, "then you don't deserve anyone to remember you. But if there's something inside you that still burns, no matter how small, then look into your memories. See what brought you here. The answers have always been with you."
Issei raised his gaze, this time with rage in his eyes. His frustration boiled alongside his pain.
"What answers? I don't understand anything! I just want this to end!"
The dragon let out a roar that echoed like thunder in the abyss. The chains trembled, and the flames surrounding them intensified. Suddenly, fragments of images began to appear around Issei, like broken mirrors floating in the air. In them, memories were projected: his friends laughing, the battles he fought, moments of triumph and utter despair. However, something was wrong with them. They were distorted, shrouded in mist, as if something was preventing them from emerging clearly.
"Look beyond the pain" Ddraig insisted, his deep voice resonating like a drum. "There's something you're not seeing, something that could break these chains. But you must face it fully, without hiding. If you don't, these flames will consume what remains of you."
Issei closed his eyes, trying to calm the whirlwind in his mind. But guilt, fear, and sadness wrapped around him, as if they were an extension of the chains themselves.
The heat of the flames reached his feet, and the pain was unbearable. A heart-wrenching scream escaped from his throat, but in the midst of the suffering, a spark of something else ignited within him. A clear and vivid image emerged in his mind: the smile of someone important. It was warm, full of light, and for a moment, the pain faded away.
"I can't give up... Not yet." His voice, though weak, was tinged with a new determination. "If there's a way out of this, I'll find it."
The darkness began to tremble. The chains, once firm, creaked as if something was weakening them. The flames receded slightly, and Ddraig looked at him with what seemed to be pride mixed with expectation.
"Then, search" said the dragon, his tone softer but still firm. "It all begins with what you remember."
Issei nodded slowly, closing his eyes and diving into the distorted fragments of his memories, determined to find what he needed to free himself from the embers of his dying fate.
Perhaps, he needed to start: After he obtained his Persona.
(-)
In the blue dimness of the Velvet Room, Issei slowly opened his eyes, still feeling the echoes of what he had just experienced moments ago. He slowly rose from the straw bed where he had been lying. The chains on his wrists were still present, though now they were more flexible, as if the place had decided to give him a reprieve.
"Did I really wear this the last time?" he thought, observing his clothes. They were torn, worn to the point of resembling mere rags, as if they reflected a part of him he had stopped caring for. He rubbed his wrists and, with some hesitation, moved toward the metal door that had kept him confined.
To his surprise, it was ajar, inviting him to leave. He took a moment to calm his breath before carefully pushing it open. The door creaked, revealing an imposing scene that took his breath away.
The bluish room before him resembled a courtroom. The center was dominated by a raised dais, its massive structure decorated with intricate reliefs that seemed to come alive under the bluish light. Around him, ornate columns rose to a ceiling lost in the gloom, as if they wanted to remind him how small he was in comparison to the place. The air was thick with a solemnity so intense that it made Issei swallow hard.
The echo of his footsteps resonated through the room as he approached the dais. There, two familiar figures awaited him. Igor, sitting in a high chair, watched him with an enigmatic smile that seemed to hold more than it let on. Beside him, Cassandra looked at him with a mix of curiosity and severity, like a judge evaluating the accused.
"Welcome back to the Velvet Room," said Igor, his deep voice filling the space.
Issei stopped and looked around, trying to find the right words. "This... Why is this place called the 'Velvet Room'? Is it a courtroom?"
Igor nodded slowly, his smile widening. "The Velvet Room takes the form that reflects the state of your soul. For some, it is a prison; for others, a ballroom. In your case, this courtroom is the most fitting place to face the questions you have been avoiding."
Issei frowned, feeling a sharp pain in his chest. "Questions? What questions?"
Cassandra intervened, her tone sharper. "Questions only you can answer. This place is both a reflection of your soul and a reminder of what you've left behind and what you fear to confront."
Issei turned his gaze away, uncomfortable. "I don't understand. Why me? Why am I here?"
"It has been a long time since we welcomed a guest," said Igor, never taking his eyes off Issei. "The Velvet Room only manifests for those on the threshold of a transcendent change. You are someone who, consciously or not, seeks to break the chains that bind you. That struggle has brought you here."
Issei crossed his arms, processing what he was hearing. "And what does that mean? Am I special or something?"
Igor let out a soft laugh, intertwining his fingers in front of him. "—Special— is not the word I would use. You are unique, yes, but not for external reasons. What sets you apart is the spark within you, the will to challenge your destiny even when you don't fully understand what it entails."
Cassandra nodded, looking at Issei with a mixture of compassion and determination. "Your arrival has awakened echoes of ancient chains. You are not just here to face the outside world, Issei. You are here to face yourself."
The young man felt her words resonate deep within him. His hands, still marked by the chains, trembled slightly. "If this place reflects my soul," he murmured, "then... what does this courtroom tell me?"
Igor answered calmly, as though explaining something obvious. "This courtroom is the symbol of the battle you fight against your own shadows. Here, you will not be judged by others, but by the decisions you've made and the ones you still must make. Everything that happens in this room depends on you.
Issei lifted his gaze to the dais, feeling the weight of the responsibility Igor described. "And what happens if I fail?"
Cassandra looked at him seriously. "Failing does not mean falling forever, Issei. What matters is not avoiding mistakes, but learning from them and moving forward. Only by accepting every part of your being will you move toward true freedom."
Silence fell as Issei reflected. The blue air of the room seemed to envelop him, pressing down on him as if daring him to move forward.
Igor broke the silence, extending a hand toward Issei. "Take this. It is a key, a link that will allow you to return here when you need it. It will not be easy, but the answers you seek are within reach, as long as you have the courage to seek them."
From the palm of Igor's hand, a shining key appeared, decorated with intricate engravings that seemed to tell stories Issei could not comprehend. The key floated slowly toward him, and though he hesitated for a moment, he finally took it.
"Thank you," he said softly, though he wasn't sure why.
The room began to fade, the blue light being replaced by the dimness of his room. Issei opened his eyes, finding himself once again in his bed. The key rested in his hand, tangible and real.
He glanced at the clock. It was time to get up for school, but something inside him had changed. Igor and Cassandra's words still echoed in his mind, leaving him with a mix of unease and a spark of hope.
(-)
Tomorrow: April 7th, 2009
Issei felt at peace, too much so, in fact. Since he had gotten out of bed, something had changed. His room, his house, his neighborhood-everything was the same, but there was something he couldn't quite identify. A strange calm surrounded him, as if the world had decided to take a breath.
He got up with an unusual energy, without the usual heaviness that accompanied his mornings. When he opened the window, he noticed how the cool breeze brushed against his face, and for a moment, he felt like the air he was breathing was different-fresher, more alive. He looked at the sky, clear and blue, and something within him resonated, though he didn't know why.
He took a deep breath, letting the cold air fill his lungs. The walk to Kuoh Academy had never been particularly interesting, but this time, something was different. Maybe it was the sky being clearer than usual, or the way the sunlight seemed to reflect off every surface, bringing out colors he hadn't noticed before.
As he walked, the smallest details seemed to demand his attention: the crunch of the leaves beneath his feet, the soft sound of water running in the ditch beside the path, the murmur of distant conversations, even the barely perceptible hum of the electrical poles. Everything felt more vivid, more present. It was as if the world was showing him something that had always been there, but he had never stopped to look.
As he continued on, his thoughts began to wander. He tried to remember if anything in particular had changed since the previous day, but nothing stood out. His routine was the same-classes, homework, silly jokes with his friends. So why did it feel like something was different? Could it have been that strange dream?
Near the entrance to the academy, his gaze stopped on Akira Moriyama. He had seen him several times before: a quiet guy, always apart, as if the rest of the world didn't exist for him. This time was no different. He was sitting on the edge of one of the planters, elbows resting on his knees, his gaze fixed on the ground.
For some reason, Issei couldn't look away. Something in his posture, the way he kept his head down, made Issei feel a pang of unease. It was as if Akira were surrounded by an invisible barrier that separated him from the rest of the world.
(-)
The classroom was bathed in the warm sunlight streaming through the windows, casting golden glimmers on the polished desks. The students chatted quietly while Professor Takeuchi prepared to begin the lesson. The air was thick with a mix of routine and anticipation, typical of any regular school day at Kuoh Academy.
Issei, sitting by the window, absentmindedly stared outside. There was something different in the air that morning, a feeling he couldn't quite put into words. Though the streets, the trees, and the people were the same, everything seemed slightly more alive, as if his surroundings were glowing with an unknown intensity. However, this perception didn't make him feel uncomfortable; on the contrary, it gave him a strange sense of calm.
"Alright, class," began Professor Takeuchi, his tone firm and authoritative. "Today we'll discuss the Renaissance and its impact on modern thought. As you know, this period marked a turning point in the history of art, science, and culture."
Issei tried to pay attention, but his mind wandered. Every word from the professor sounded distant, as if wrapped in an echo. His gaze remained lost on the leaves of the trees dancing in the wind, and the faint murmur of his classmates blended with the sounds from outside.
"Hyoudou."
The professor's call abruptly pulled him out of his daydream.
"Eh?" he responded automatically, a chill running down his spine.
"Hyoudou, can you tell us who is known as the 'Man of the Renaissance' and why?"
The classroom fell silent. Stifled giggles from some classmates began to fill the air, and Issei's face turned red.
"Ah... um..." he stammered, looking around as if the answer were written somewhere in the room.
Takeuchi raised an eyebrow, his gaze fixed on him. "I'm giving you the opportunity to participate in class, Hyoudou. Or is that too much to ask?"
Whispers began to circulate among the students:
"Again, Hyoudou? He probably doesn't even know what they're talking about."
"Such a shame, always the same."
Issei gritted his teeth. But in that moment, a familiar yet strange sensation washed over him. A kind of whisper in his mind, as if something deep within him was giving him the answer.
"Leonardo da Vinci," he suddenly said, his voice clear and firm, though tinged with doubt.
The silence in the classroom deepened. Even Takeuchi seemed surprised for a moment before crossing his arms.
"Correct. Now tell me, Hyoudou, can you explain why he's called that?"
All eyes turned to Issei. He felt the weight of their gazes, but that strange certainty inside him didn't leave.
"Because... he excelled in many areas," he began, with more confidence this time. "He was a painter, a scientist, an inventor... he even designed machines that were far ahead of his time. I suppose he... symbolizes what the Renaissance aimed to achieve: the development of human potential in all senses."
Takeuchi nodded slowly, as if evaluating his answer. "That's correct. Da Vinci wasn't just a multifaceted genius, but an example of how knowledge and creativity can go hand in hand to reach new heights. Well done, Hyoudou. I hope this marks the beginning of a change in your attitude towards learning."
The whispers returned almost immediately.
"Did he really know the answer?"
"Come on, it must've been pure luck."
"Yeah, but the explanation didn't sound that improvised... don't you think?"
Issei pretended to ignore the comments, but he couldn't help but feel something different in the way some of his classmates looked at him. Even if it was just a little, he noticed a mix of surprise and maybe something close to respect.
As the professor continued the lesson, a window appeared in his mind, as if someone had flipped a switch:
"You've slightly increased your Charm!"
He smiled faintly at the thought, although he didn't understand where that idea had come from. He settled back into his seat, trying to focus on the class.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Akira Moriyama, the reserved boy who sat near him, scribbling frantically in a notebook. The strokes of his pen seemed chaotic, as if he were pouring something onto the page that couldn't be expressed in words.
"What could he be writing?" Issei wondered, before shaking his head. It was rare for Akira to catch his attention, but something about his behavior made him stand out from the rest.
The rest of the class passed without incident, but Issei couldn't shake the feeling of change, as if the world around him were moving in a direction he couldn't understand.
(-)
Lunch: April 7, 2009
The lunchtime bustle at Kuoh Academy filled the hallways, but for Akira Moriyama, the day had taken a turn that even his carefree attitude couldn't mask. He had barely finished gathering his books when two prefects approached his desk with stern expressions.
"Moriyama," said one of them in a firm voice, "the principal wants to see you in his office. Now."
The classroom fell silent for a moment, and then the inevitable whispers began.
"In trouble again?"
"That guy always finds a way to get attention."
"What did he do this time?"
Akira looked at the prefects, and although his face remained calm, he could feel the weight of the gazes on him. With a sigh, he closed his notebook and stood up from his seat.
"Well, looks like I'm a regular here," he muttered under his breath, causing some nervous chuckles from his classmates. However, others looked at him with curiosity, wondering what he had done this time.
As he walked between the rows of desks, Akira could hear more murmurs, some more cruel than others:
"Does he really think he can get away with everything?"
"Maybe this time they'll expel him."
"What a cardboard rebel. He probably thinks he's special."
He gritted his teeth, struggling not to give them the satisfaction of seeing him affected. He just smiled disdainfully, as if the words were sliding off him.
As he walked down the hall with the prefects, he tried to maintain his composure, but the questions in his head tormented him. What did they want from him now? Had they discovered something? He tried to replay the last few days in his mind for clues, but couldn't identify any clear reason.
The prefects didn't speak the entire way, their silence only making the echo of their footsteps feel heavier. For a moment, Akira glanced out the windows, where the sun was timidly filtering through the clouds, casting long shadows on the floor.
"It almost feels like the world is judging me too" he thought sarcastically before letting out a light sigh.
(-)
When they reached the office, one of the prefects knocked softly on the door. A deep voice from inside gave them permission to enter.
The principal's office was an intimidating place, even for someone like Akira, who tried not to take anything too seriously. The walls were covered with framed certificates, group photos of students from previous years, and a large bookshelf displaying books and trophies. The air smelled of polished wood and coffee, but to Akira, it all added to the oppressive feeling of the room.
In front of him, at a perfectly organized mahogany desk, sat the principal. He was an older man with thick glasses and a severe expression that seemed to have not changed in decades. Beside him was the vice principal, a younger man with a cold smile that seemed designed to unsettle, and the science teacher, a tall, serious guy whom Akira recognized for his tendency to avoid conflict.
"Sit down, Moriyama," the principal ordered, pointing to a chair in front of the desk.
Akira obeyed, crossing his arms with an expression of indifference.
"Well, here I am. What did I supposedly do this time?"
The vice principal frowned, clearly annoyed by his tone.
"Moriyama, your attitude is part of the problem. We're here because your behavior has crossed a line we can't ignore."
The principal opened a folder full of papers and slid it toward Akira. He looked at it with curiosity, noticing screenshots of anonymous messages posted on a student forum. The texts contained direct accusations against the administration, criticizing its mishandling of the case of a recently expelled student, Kenta Nakamura.
"Do you recognize this?" the principal asked, fixing his gaze on Akira.
Akira returned the stare without blinking.
"What does this have to do with me?"
The science teacher intervened, speaking in a somewhat more conciliatory tone.
"Don't underestimate our ability to trace this kind of thing, Moriyama. The posts are linked to devices you've used recently."
Akira let out a dry laugh.
"Of course, because pointing out your mistakes is a crime, right? Calling things by their name seems more dangerous than what you did to Kenta."
The vice principal slammed his palm on the table, visibly upset.
"Watch what you say! Kenta admitted his guilt, and the case is closed. All you're doing with these accusations is tarnishing the reputation of this institution."
Akira leaned forward, fixing his gaze on the vice principal.
"Tarnish the reputation? I don't think I can do more damage than what you've already done. Kenta only admitted guilt because you pressured him until he broke. Everyone knows that, but no one says anything because they're all scared.
The principal adjusted his glasses and spoke in a firm voice, cutting through the tension in the air.
"Moriyama, we're not here to debate. Your behavior is unacceptable, and this is your final warning. If you get involved in something like this again, the consequences will be severe."
Akira slowly stood up, resting his hands on the edge of the desk.
"Do whatever you want. I'm not going to stay silent while you keep trampling on others."
Without waiting for a response, he turned and left the office, slamming the door behind him, the sound echoing down the hallway.
(-)
After Classes: April 7th, 2009
The sun began to set behind the buildings of Kuoh Academy, painting the sky with an orange hue that reflected in the windows of the empty classrooms. Issei had spent the entire last class distracted, unable to focus as Akira's words and his somber expression lingered in his mind. Determined to understand what was going on, he quickened his pace when the bell rang for dismissal, ignoring his classmates as he rushed through the crowded hallways in search of Akira.
Finally, he found him in the school's back courtyard, a quiet corner surrounded by trees that, at this hour, was almost deserted. Akira was sitting on a wooden bench, his head lowered, arms crossed, lost in thought. There was something about his posture that made him seem smaller, as though he were carrying a weight too heavy to bear.
"Akira," Issei called cautiously as he approached.
The boy slowly looked up, and his eyes, usually full of a challenging spark, seemed dull. For a moment, he didn't respond, until he let out a sigh and dropped his shoulders.
"Oh, it's you," he murmured in a flat, almost indifferent tone.
Issei stopped in front of him, crossing his arms with a slight expression of concern.
"Are you okay? You've been acting weird today... Well, weirder than usual."
Akira let out a dry laugh, more bitter than funny, and looked back at the ground.
"Why do you care, Issei? I'm not exactly popular enough for people to be asking me about that."
"Because I'm not an idiot, okay?" Issei replied, sitting next to him. "Something's going on, and even though we're not best friends or anything, I prefer to ask than ignore it."
Akira sighed again, this time heavier, rubbing his forehead as if Issei's words only added more weight to his burden.
"Have you ever felt like no matter what you do, the world will always be against you? Like there's no escape, no matter how hard you try?"
The question caught Issei off guard. He wasn't used to hearing Akira talk like this. Usually, he saw him as someone confident, almost arrogant, always ready to challenge any rule or authority figure. But now, he seemed like a completely different person, someone hurt.
"I don't know," Issei admitted after thinking for a moment. "I guess everyone feels like that from time to time. But I don't think staying quiet or giving up is the solution."
Akira let out a bitter laugh, so soft it was almost inaudible.
"Not giving up is the only thing I know how to do, Issei. But when you're fighting against something bigger than you, what do you think happens? You end up like my brother..."
His voice cracked, and for a few seconds, he said nothing more.
"Your brother?" Issei asked quietly.
Akira looked at him, his expression filled with bitterness.
"He was someone who tried to change things, who questioned the rules, who thought he could make a difference. But all he got was crushed. They destroyed him, and I... I was the only thing left."
Issei remained silent, feeling the weight of Akira's words. He didn't know what to say. He wanted to offer some kind of comfort, but the words stuck in his throat.
"I can't imagine how you feel, Akira, but... if you're fighting, there must be something worth fighting for, right? Something that means enough to not give up."
For a moment, Akira looked at him as if evaluating his words, trying to decide whether or not to believe them. Finally, he shook his head and stood up from the bench.
"Thanks for trying, Issei. But I don't think someone like you can understand."
Before Issei could respond, Akira walked away toward the trees, his figure disappearing into the growing shadows of the evening.
Issei stayed seated, looking at the spot where Akira had been. He felt like he had failed, that there was something more he should have said or done. Just as he was about to stand up, a chill ran down his spine. The air grew heavier, and a strange sensation enveloped him, as though something was watching him.
He looked around, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. However, the discomfort lingered, like a hum in the back of his mind. He decided to ignore it, convinced it was just his imagination.
Meanwhile, Akira had reached a more secluded clearing, far from the sight of anyone. His thoughts consumed him, a mix of frustration and despair.
"Maybe they're right..." he murmured to himself. "Maybe it doesn't matter how much I try. The system always wins."
It was then that the air around him began to change. The shadows of the trees stretched unnaturally, twisting as if they had a life of their own. A dark crack appeared in front of him, pulsating with a sinister energy.
Akira took a step back, but his legs seemed to tremble. From the crack, whispers began to emerge-familiar voices, but distorted:
"You're weak."
"Nothing you do will change anything."
"Give up."
"Shut up!" Akira yelled, clenching his fists, but the voices only grew louder, more insistent.
Before he could react, the crack expanded, and an invisible force dragged him toward it. His scream was swallowed by the darkness, leaving behind an empty park and an eerie silence.
(-)
Early: April 8, 2009
The loud sound of the alarm echoed through Issei's room, breaking the morning silence. With a groan, he reached out to turn it off, but ended up knocking over an empty glass he had left on his nightstand.
"Why does this always happen to me?" he muttered, struggling to sit up. The sunlight filtering through the curtains illuminated the chaos that was his room: clothes scattered across the floor, books piled up haphazardly, and of course, his collection of adult magazines resting in a corner, a reminder of his somewhat... particular interests.
He got up and surveyed his room with a hint of discouragement.
"I really should organize my room better," he said aloud as he picked up a t-shirt from the floor and sniffed it to check if it was clean. The smell made him frown before tossing it into the laundry basket.
His eyes landed on the magazines. Over the years, he had accumulated quite a few, but recently, he had felt that they no longer excited him as much as before.
"Maybe I should get rid of these... or should I?" He thought out loud, crossing his arms. "That doesn't mean I've stopped liking women, of course. But..."
An idea crossed his mind. If he really got rid of the magazines, why not give them to Matsuda and Motohama? They'd be more than happy to take them, and it would be a way to get rid of that "
-weight-without wasting them.
"They'd probably treat them like treasure" he thought, flashing a mischievous smile. "Though, if they find out I'm thinking of getting rid of them, they'd probably accuse me of betraying the 'bro code' or something."
However, he also wondered if that would really solve anything. Lately, he had felt that those things didn't fill the emptiness in his life, but he didn't know exactly what he was looking for.
"Maybe I'm just maturing... or maybe I need a new hobby."
He let the thought fade away as he walked over to the small desk by his window. Among the disorganized papers and a few chewed pencils, he found his school schedule.
"Well, at least there are no exams today. That's something, right?"
As he changed to get ready for school, Issei couldn't stop thinking about Akira. The conversation they had had in the park the previous afternoon kept circling in his mind. Something in Akira's eyes, in his tone of voice, made him think that he was dealing with something much more complicated than he had let on.
"Maybe I should look for him today and see how he's doing," he murmured to himself while putting on his uniform. "Though, I'm not sure he'll say anything more than sarcasm."
Once ready, he grabbed his backpack, shoving in the books he had left scattered on the desk, and left his room. The house was quiet, except for the sound of the TV in the living room. His mother was watching a morning show while preparing breakfast.
"Issei, eat breakfast before you leave!" she called from the kitchen.
"I'm coming!" he responded, though he knew he'd be late if he stayed. He grabbed a piece of toast from the table and took it in his hand as he ran toward the door.
"Take care of your stuff, Issei! Your room looks like a war zone!" his mother scolded as he rushed out.
"Yeah, yeah, I'll fix it later!" he yelled back before slamming the door behind him.
The walk to school was relatively peaceful that morning. The fresh air helped clear his mind a little, but not enough to shake the strange feeling he'd had the previous afternoon, that inexplicable chill after Akira had left.
"What the hell was that...?" he muttered to himself, remembering how the atmosphere had suddenly become heavy, as if something invisible had been watching him.
When he arrived at Kuoh Academy, school life continued as usual. Students filled the hallways, laughing and talking as they prepared for classes. But Issei barely noticed the bustle as he made his way to his locker, his attention split between the day's duties and his concern for Akira.
"I hope he's here today... "he thought, glancing toward the classroom.
Upon entering and inspecting his classroom, Issei noticed that the usual calm of the morning had dissipated, replaced by the bustle of students chatting animatedly. Some were in small groups, others in pairs, but everyone seemed absorbed in their own conversations. Occasionally, someone would let out a loud laugh or make a ridiculous comment, but Issei hardly paid attention. People always talked about things he didn't find interesting, like the latest video games or TV gossip. Sometimes, he wondered how they could talk about the same things over and over without getting bored.
What really caught his attention was the absence of Akira. The seat his 'friend' usually occupied was empty. Issei stopped in front of it for a moment, frowning. He looked around, but no one else seemed to have noticed the absence.
"Maybe he's sick?" he thought, but the idea comforted him as little as the last one. Akira wasn't the type to miss school without a really serious reason. Something wasn't right.
"Maybe he's just running late..." he murmured to himself, though he couldn't shake off the slight unease. He made his way to his seat with a little concern, looking straight ahead as he sat down. The clock on the wall marked the beginning of class, but the feeling that something was out of place lingered.
Issei tried to focus, but the emptiness of Akira's seat bothered him more than he wanted to admit. He glanced at his flip phone, hoping there would be some interesting message or email to distract him. But nothing. His eyes scanned the screen quickly, but all he found were the usual notifications: messages from Matsuda and Motohama about -things to do after class-and a spam email.
Suddenly, a group of guys started talking near his seat, and although he initially thought he'd just ignore them, one phrase caught his attention.
"Have you heard about the bookstore near the plaza?" one of the guys said, adjusting his glasses and looking at his friend with an enthusiastic expression.
"Really? What happened?" the other asked, clearly interested.
"Well, they say they're bringing in new books," the guy with the glasses replied with a mischievous smile. "Rare books, maybe even something... more interesting." His voice softened a little as he continued, as if suggesting something secret. "I'm sure if we go after class, we could find something worth checking out."
Issei listened distractedly, more out of curiosity than genuine interest in the topic. However, the idea of an interesting bookstore caught his attention. Though he wasn't a big reader, something inside him thought it might be a good excuse to clear his head a little after a long day. "Why not? Maybe it doesn't sound so bad" he thought, glancing at the clock again and feeling like the day was dragging on. However, he soon realized he had stopped paying attention to what his classmates were discussing. What really occupied his mind was Akira, his friend's constant absence.
"Where is he?" he thought, turning his head toward the door, as if expecting Akira to appear magically. But nothing. There was no sign of him. The classroom slowly filled with the other students, and Akira still hadn't shown up.
"That's strange..." Issei murmured, frowning and looking out the window. At first, he had thought maybe Akira was just running late, but that uneasy feeling kept growing in his chest.
In the end, it was the sound of the door opening and the murmur of voices that brought him back to reality. Matsuda and Motohama, his ever-present companions, entered like a couple of whirlwinds, laughing and throwing comments around. However, even their usual energy didn't manage to shake Issei's strange feeling.
"You can't trust them for anything," Issei thought with a sigh. As his classmates started to settle in, he couldn't stop thinking about the same question: "Why hasn't Akira shown up? Is he okay?"
It was then that one of the boys near him started talking about the bookstore again, and without thinking too much, Issei found himself considering the idea of going there after school. "Maybe it'll help me clear my head" he thought. But immediately, the image of Akira came back to his mind, and the worry tightened in his chest.
"This isn't normal..." he muttered to himself, leaning back in his chair and glancing at his other classmates. In the end, the day seemed to drag on, but in his head, one question kept circling: What was happening to Akira?
(-)
After School: April 8, 2009
Issei crossed the threshold of the bookstore with a strange feeling, as if he had entered a world completely different from the one he knew. The air was filled with the scent of old paper and wood, creating an atmosphere that was both cozy and somewhat mysterious, making him feel disconnected from the usual bustle of school and the noise of the city. He looked up and saw that the shelves filled with books covered almost every wall, as if each of those books was waiting to be discovered, to whisper some kind of forgotten wisdom or story.
The bookstore, despite its modest size, had a peculiar presence. There were no mangas or comics, as he had expected. Instead, there were titles with old-fashioned covers, muted colors, and gold lettering that gave it an air of antiquity. There was something about the place that felt straight out of a novel, a sensation that enveloped him with a touch of nostalgia and mystery, as if he had stepped into a corner of the past.
The bell above the door rang softly as he entered, disappearing as quickly as it was heard, and a gentle voice greeted him from the counter.
"Welcome," said the librarian's voice, deep and calm, as if he were accustomed to the peace that filled the place.
Issei turned on his heels and saw an elderly man, wearing half-moon glasses and a somewhat outdated jacket. His eyes reflected a quiet wisdom, as if everything around him had been seen, understood, and reflected upon many times. Issei smiled somewhat awkwardly, feeling a little out of place.
"First time here, huh?" asked the librarian, not expecting an answer, as he observed him with a faint glint of curiosity.
Issei nodded, looking around with a bit more attention. He felt like a child in a candy store, but instead of sweets gleaming in front of him, it was books, their pages filled with stories and secrets yet to be discovered.
"Yes, it's my first time, Issei replied, somewhat shyly, as he ventured deeper into the shop, looking for something that caught his attention.
As he inspected the interior of the bookstore, he realized it wasn't as large as he had imagined. Despite its modest size, it had an intimate feel, as if it were a refuge in the middle of chaos. The shelves full of books seemed to overflow with stories, but he wasn't sure which one to choose. In other bookstores, sections like manga or action novels easily drew him in, but here, everything felt different. The books here seemed more... serious. As if they were waiting for the reader to approach them with an open mind.
Issei walked slowly between the shelves, running his fingers over the spines of the books, but he wasn't exactly sure what he was looking for. The idea of reading a book from this bookstore, something different from what he normally consumed, felt strange. It wasn't the kind of book he could find in an ordinary shop, and for some reason, that made him feel even more disconnected.
At one point, he realized the librarian was watching him from his spot with a calm gaze, as if he knew exactly what Issei was thinking. Seeing that Issei seemed lost among so many options, the librarian slowly stood up and walked toward him with soft steps, as if each of his movements were calculated.
"Can I help you find something in particular?" the man asked, his voice calm, almost like an invitation.
Issei, somewhat embarrassed by his lack of direction, scratched the back of his neck before answering.
"Well... I'm not sure. I'm looking for something interesting. Something that, I don't know, makes me think a little more." Issei wasn't sure how to explain exactly what he was feeling. He just knew he wanted something different from what he normally read.
The librarian looked at him intently, as if evaluating something more in his words. After a moment of silence, the man nodded slowly, as if he already knew exactly what Issei needed.
"I understand," the librarian said, pausing briefly before continuing. "Sometimes, what we're looking for isn't always what we think we need. But if you're willing to let go, maybe you'll find something that offers you a new perspective."
Issei looked at him confused, not entirely sure what he meant, but the librarian didn't seem to expect an answer. The man walked over to one of the farthest shelves and, after a few seconds of searching, pulled out a thick book, its cover somewhat worn but striking. The title was "Journey to the West", and the illustrations of dragons and mythical figures made Issei look at the book with some curiosity.
"This might interest you," the librarian said, extending the book to him, his eyes gleaming with unshakable calm.
Issei looked at the title and then at the cover, still confused.
"What's so interesting about this book? It looks... old," he commented as he flipped through it lightly. The paper of the book had a yellowish tone, and the letters on the cover didn't seem modern. The difference from the books he usually read was so evident that Issei couldn't help but feel a little skeptical.
The librarian, without losing his calm, nodded with a small smile..
"It's a classic of Chinese literature," he explained. "It tells the story of a monk named Xuanzang who embarks on a journey to retrieve sacred scriptures. But it's not just an adventure story; it's a spiritual journey. The protagonist has to face demons, temptations, and mistakes. What's interesting about this book is how it speaks to us about inner struggles, sacrifice, and how each step on the path can transform us, if we are willing to face the challenges."
Issei frowned, but there was something in the librarian's description that caught his attention.
"So, it's about self-improvement?" he asked, trying to understand the concept, though he still felt something didn't quite add up.
"In a way, yes," the librarian replied, his voice carrying a tone of reflection. "But it also talks about the mistakes and trials we face, and how sometimes, the real challenge isn't external, but within us. Xuanzang doesn't just face demons; he faces his own fears, doubts, and desires. Maybe this book will make you see something in yourself that you haven't noticed before."
Issei looked at the book again, this time with a slight spark of interest. There was something in the way the librarian spoke about the protagonist's journey, as if he were describing something more than just a simple story. Perhaps the man was right; maybe it wasn't just an old book, but one that contained something deeper.
"Hmm, sounds... interesting," said Issei, though he still wasn't completely convinced. "Isn't there something more modern? Something with more action, maybe?"
The librarian let out a soft laugh, as if he had anticipated the question.
"Sometimes the most modern things don't always give us what we need," he said with a slight smile. "This book has survived for centuries, and generations have read it. Although it doesn't solve all the problems in the world, maybe it will offer you something you wouldn't find in other books. Just remember, what you find in the pages of a good book can change you, but only if you're willing to let it."
Issei nodded, though he wasn't sure what to expect. The librarian seemed to have a calm wisdom that made him think maybe he should give the book a chance. He took the volume in his hands, his fingers brushing against the yellowed pages as he thought about what he had just heard.
"Okay, I'll take it," he said finally, though there was still a slight doubt in his tone.
The librarian smiled, satisfied with his choice.
"Excellent," he said as he proceeded to ring up the book. "Remember, sometimes the most important journey is the one we take within ourselves.. This book could be the first of many on that kind of journey."
Issei left the bookstore with the book in his hands, feeling a slight discomfort but also a small spark of curiosity. As he walked home, he thought about the librarian's words. "A spiritual journey, huh? I guess I have nothing to lose. Maybe I'll discover something... or maybe I'll just pass the time."
But something inside him told him that, even if he didn't fully understand what it meant, there was something in that book that might touch a corner of his being that had yet to be explored.
(-)
Night: April 8, 2009
The park was wrapped in an unsettling stillness. The last light of the day slowly faded, tinting the sky in reddish and orange hues. The quiet of the evening was broken by a strange sound, as if something were tearing apart the barrier between two worlds.
Suddenly, the crack appeared again in the air, right in the center of the park, in the spot where Akira had disappeared that afternoon when the abyss had devoured him. The air distorted, and a ripping sound reverberated through the place, as if reality itself were being torn apart.
From the crack emerged a figure, but it was not an ordinary being. It wasn't Akira, but something far darker. The figure began to materialize slowly, a dark shadow that seemed to twist, forming a silhouette at first vague and indistinct, as if it were an echo of its existence.
At first, the figure had no defined shape, but soon the contours began to take form. The shadow grew clearer and clearer, slowly transforming into a tall figure, upright yet ominous. As it stepped out of the crack, the air grew denser, as if space itself were being consumed by the darkness that dragged the shadow with it.
The figure straightened fully, and its eyes glowed in the darkness with an unnatural intensity. There was no doubt: it was Akira, but not entirely. This was the part of Akira he had rejected, the part he couldn't accept-his hatred materialized. However, its appearance was not human, but something that overflowed the essence of humanity.
The nearby trees seemed to shrink before its presence, their branches creaking as they swayed in the wind as though trembling. The park, once full of life, now appeared empty, just an extension of the very shadow that had come to life before the crack. The figure looked around, but it didn't seem interested in its surroundings. It wasn't looking for anything; it simply moved forward with steady steps, its destination clear: to break everything around it.
"Why follow the rules of a world that rejects us?" The voice of the shadow echoed in the air, distorted, deep, filled with fury and despair. "Why accept a fate that wasn't chosen? Everything must be destroyed!"
The shadow began to walk forward, its movements slow yet charged with dangerous power. Each step it took seemed to intensify the darkness around it, as if the entire park were being absorbed by the same rage emanating from its being. The ground beneath its feet seemed to tremble, and the shadows stretching from the trees seemed to twist, as though the very environment were responding to the power of the figure.
"They've made us pawns! They've given us roles we don't want to play!" The shadow raised a hand, pointing to the horizon, to the buildings and structures surrounding the park. "Let everything break! Let everything be destroyed! Let the false figures of power fall!"
With each word, the air around it grew heavier, more oppressive. Leaves fell from the trees, but not due to the wind-rather, by the very force that the shadow unleashed as it passed. It was a destructive, visceral force, radiating from the figure like a dark tide ready to sweep away everything it touched.
"Let the whole world fall! To hell with those who think they're above everyone else!" The shadow could not stop moving, as if the park itself were its stage, the perfect place to begin its destruction.
Little by little, its figure advanced, each step firmer, until the shadow began to move away from the crack. The light of the day had completely faded, and the darkness seemed to embrace the park, as though the place were being invaded by the fury contained within the shadow.
The figure did not look back, but its presence was no longer just a shadow: it had ceased to be merely a reflection of Akira's fears and hatred. Now it was a separate entity, with its own life, a being that no longer depended on anyone else. The crack that had formed it began to close, but the figure was already far away, ready to destroy whatever remained.
The shadow, now fully transformed into a distorted version of Akira, walked toward the future without a care, leaving behind only the echo of its fury, the promise of chaos and destruction. As it moved further, the last light of the day completely vanished, and the park, now consumed by darkness, became a cursed place, marked by the appearance of a being that no longer had limits.
(-)
End of Chapter.
In this chapter, I decided to speed things up a bit to finally start with the conflicts that Issei will have to face. Still, I had to develop them so that it makes sense for Issei to decide to help Akira, along with the consequences he faces for awakening his persona. I also referenced the theme of gaining improvements in social stats.
Going back a bit, Akira's shadow has managed to break free into the outside world, and it will undoubtedly cause many problems if it isn't stopped in time. Now, we just have to see what will happen next.
What do you think of the chapter?
I sincerely hope you liked it. It was hard to write because I got stuck at certain points, but oh well.
Also, while I was writing, another idea came to me, one that honestly could have been used for this crossover too: Makoto Yuki as the protagonist. I think this could work (and, of course, taking place in the DxD timeline), where he was accepted into Gekkoukan Institute at the last moment, but instead, he was given a chance at Kuoh Academy. I find it interesting how the story could develop.
That's all for now. I hope you have an excellent day.
P.S. Before I forget, here are the social stats.
[Knowledge: —Ignorant— Issei has a very limited understanding of the supernatural world and life in general. He is often confused or surprised by what happens around him.
Courtesy: —Rude— Issei is often driven by his impulses, and although he doesn't mean any harm, he tends to be clumsy and rough in his interactions with others.
Courage: —Cowardly— He gets scared easily in the face of supernatural threats or tense situations, even though he tries to hide it.
Dexterity: —Clumsy— Issei lacks physical skill or refinement in combat. He is often slow and uncoordinated.
Charm: —Unpleasant— Issei is often misinterpreted or seen as annoying due to his perverted and immature attitude.]
Obviously, they are at level 1, although they will level up over time. I also plan to include the summary of the SL.
Would you like me to put them at the end or at the beginning of the chapters?