DxD:BattleFront

Victor von Reinherz slouched in his chair, his hand holding a pen that hovered idly over a mountain of paperwork. His lips twisted into a wry smile as he muttered to himself, "So much for escaping the nine-to-five grind."

It was a strange twist of fate, being reincarnated into this world. Back on Earth, Victor had been an overworked handyman, scraping by paycheck to paycheck. A glorified jack-of-all-trades, he fixed whatever needed fixing and endured the endless grind with a weary smile. But here he was now, the adopted heir of a noble house, with responsibilities as far-reaching as the Reinherz family name itself. "From fixing leaky faucets to juggling inter-faction politics—what a glow-up," he quipped under his breath, attempting to stifle the shadow of lingering trauma that lurked beneath his casual demeanor.

The pen twirled in his fingers as his thoughts meandered. How had it all come to this? He closed his eyes, leaning back in his chair as the memories flooded back. It began with the Vatican, the cruel Excalibur Experiment where children—himself included—were treated as disposable pawns. Around the time that Kiba Yuuto was subjected to the same horrors, Victor had feigned death to escape. A small knife, overlooked on a cluttered table, had been his lifeline. He'd clutched it tightly as he fled into the night, savoring his brief taste of freedom.

But freedom came with a cruel twist. Just days later, he was captured by the Tepes faction—vampires who saw him as little more than a blood pack for their dhampir princess, Valerie Tepes. She—the only silver lining in that hellish place—refused to drink his blood at first, her kindness an anomaly among the cruelty surrounding them. Yet, it wasn't long before Victor saw the depths of her suffering, shackled as she was to the whims of the faction. It was in those desperate moments that he hatched a plan, sending a letter in Valerie's name to the Fang Hunters, an anti-vampire organization.

The rescue had been swift and brutal. Among the chaos, Victor's would-be savior had emerged: Klaus von Reinherz, head of the Reinherz family. A towering figure with a commanding presence, Klaus had taken one look at Victor's malnourished frame and defiant eyes before declaring, "This one has potential."

Victor had scoffed at the time. "Potential? In this mess of a kid? Sure, buddy."

But Klaus had meant it. He brought Victor to the Reinherz estate, a sprawling manor that practically screamed "wealth" and "power." There, Victor was given a new name, a new life, and—most importantly—training.

The Reinherz family's Brain Grid Blood Battle Technique was unlike anything Victor had ever seen. It involved manipulating one's blood as a weapon, forming constructs imbued with devastating force. Victor had thrown himself into the training with a ferocity that surprised even Klaus. Six years later, he stood atop the ruins of the Tepes faction, having exterminated them with such ferocity and sheer brutality that earned him the moniker "Mad Dog" in the Underworld.

And yet, his journey hadn't ended there. Somewhere along the way, Valerie had used her Sephiroth Graal on him three times. The first had been to remove any limiter on his potential during training, a decision he'd come to appreciate as his skills soared to unimaginable heights. The second had been an unorthodox solution to his dwindling blood supply during their imprisonment, ensuring he would never run out of blood. The third—a final act of kindness—had been to enhance his combat ability before he faced the Tepes faction. Valerie, now free from her tormentors, had chosen to remain by his side.

Which brought him to his current predicament: paperwork. Endless, soul-sucking paperwork. The topic of today's bureaucratic nightmare? A school application.

"A school," he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Why does Father think I need to go back to school? I'm twenty-four mentally, for crying out loud."

His grumbling was cut short by a familiar voice. "Victor, stop daydreaming and finish your work," Valerie chided, leaning against the doorway with an amused smirk. Her crimson eyes sparkled with mischief as she added, "Father's calling for you."

Victor rolled his eyes. "Of course he is. Probably wants to assign me another ridiculous task. Can't he see I'm busy procrastinating?"

"Busy daydreaming, you mean," Valerie countered, stepping into the room. She crossed her arms, a playful glint in her gaze. "You know he's serious about this school thing."

Victor groaned dramatically, throwing his head back. "Why would I willingly subject myself to the horror that is high school? I've done my time, Valerie. I've served my sentence."

Her lips twitched, barely suppressing a smile. "Because Father said so. And because you're terrible at making friends."

Victor clutched his chest as if struck by a mortal wound. "I have friends! There's... you!"

"I don't count," Valerie said flatly, raising an eyebrow. "Besides, wouldn't it be nice to meet people who aren't trying to kill you or use you as a blood pack?"

"Touché," Victor muttered, defeated. He let out a long sigh before shuffling the papers into a semblance of order. "Fine. I'll go. But only because it's in Japan."

Valerie tilted her head. "What's so special about Japan?"

Victor's cheeks turned a faint shade of pink. "N-no reason. Definitely not because I'm a closet otaku or anything."

Her laughter followed him as he left the room, the paperwork in tow. Somewhere deep down, beneath the layers of humor and sarcasm, Victor knew this new chapter of his life would be anything but ordinary.

Victor strode into the dining room, his steps deliberate yet casual, an act of carefully cultivated nonchalance. Valerie had peeled off at the entrance, giving him a subtle pat on the back as if to say, "Good luck, you're on your own for this one." She'd insisted he speak with Klaus alone, and while Victor appreciated her rare tact, it didn't stop the knot from tightening in his stomach.

The dining room was, as always, an imposing sight. The long, polished table could seat a small battalion, but Klaus sat alone at its head, his posture as straight as ever. The faint aroma of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon wafted through the air, but the real centerpiece was Klaus himself. He exuded an aura of quiet authority, his crimson hair catching the morning sunlight streaming through the tall windows. To Victor, Klaus had always seemed larger than life—a man who could command armies with a glance but still remembered how to laugh over a good meal.

Victor couldn't help but stare for a moment. "Yep," he muttered under his breath, "he still looks like someone drew a shounen protagonist but forgot to give him fangs."

Klaus's sharp eyes flicked to him, a small smile tugging at his lips. "You're muttering again, Victor. Come, sit."

Victor complied, pulling out a chair and slumping into it in a way that would've made any etiquette instructor faint. Klaus, of course, said nothing, merely pouring a second cup of coffee and sliding it across the table.

"Thanks," Victor said, taking a sip. The bitter warmth did little to soothe his nerves. He placed the cup down and decided to rip the bandage off. "Alright, what's with the whole 'send Victor off to school' thing? You've been trying to keep me in the family estate for years, and now suddenly it's, 'Go enjoy life,' like you're kicking me out."

Klaus leaned back in his chair, his gaze steady but unreadable. "You're not a child anymore, Victor. You've earned the right to live your own life, to make your own decisions. And…" He paused, his expression softening in a way that made Victor's stomach twist. "I've taken too much from you already."

Victor blinked. "What? That's ridiculous. You've given me everything. A home, training, a purpose—"

"And robbed you of your childhood in the process," Klaus interrupted gently. "Victor, when I found you, you were…" He trailed off, searching for the right words. "You were barely alive. A scared, broken boy who'd seen far too much for his age. I did what I thought was best—trained you, gave you the tools to survive. But in doing so, I forgot that you were just a child. You should've been playing, laughing, making friends. Instead, I made you into a soldier."

Victor opened his mouth to argue but found that the words wouldn't come. He'd never thought about it like that before. Sure, his training had been grueling, and there were days he'd cursed Klaus's name under his breath, but he'd always seen it as necessary. He'd needed to be strong to survive, to protect himself and those he cared about. But… had he really missed out on being a kid?

"I don't regret the man you've become," Klaus continued, his voice firm. "You're strong, capable, and, despite your penchant for sarcasm, a good person. But I do regret the price you had to pay to get here. That's why I want you to go to Japan, to Kuoh Academy. Not to fight, not to take on missions, but to live. To experience what it means to be a young man, free from the burdens of duty."

Victor stared at his father, his throat tight. He wanted to brush it off with a joke, to make some snarky comment about how sentimental Klaus was being, but he couldn't. The sincerity in Klaus's eyes, the weight of his words, left him speechless.

Klaus stood, walking around the table to place a hand on Victor's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Victor. For everything. For being weak, for not being able to give you the life you deserved. I hope… I hope this can be my way of making amends."

Victor's carefully constructed façade cracked. His lips trembled, and before he knew it, tears were streaming down his face. He tried to wipe them away, to play it cool, but it was no use. The emotions he'd buried for so long came rushing to the surface, overwhelming him.

"D-Damn it," he choked out, clinging to Klaus like a lifeline. "Why do you have to say stuff like that? You're making me look like a total idiot."

Klaus chuckled softly, pulling him into a tight embrace. "You're my son, Victor. No matter what happens, that will never change."

They stayed like that for a while, the world outside the dining room forgotten. When Victor finally pulled back, his face red and puffy, he managed a shaky smile. "I'll miss you, Dad."

Klaus smiled, his own eyes misty. "Me too, son. Me too."

A polite cough from the doorway shattered the moment. The Reinherz family butler stood there, his expression as neutral as ever. "Master Victor, the car is ready."

Victor sniffed, rubbing his eyes as he stood. "Right. Time to go."

As he walked to the door, he turned back one last time. Klaus stood in the center of the room, his broad frame silhouetted by the sunlight. He raised a hand in farewell, a single tear rolling down his cheek.

"The house will feel empty without him," Klaus murmured to himself, watching as Victor disappeared from view.

Outside, Victor climbed into the car, Valerie already waiting inside. She glanced at him, her sharp eyes taking in his tear-streaked face. "You cried," she stated flatly.

"Say one word," Victor warned, "and I'll tell Klaus about the time you tried to reorganize the library and accidentally summoned a swarm of locusts."

Valerie smirked but said nothing, leaning back in her seat as the car pulled away. As they drove towards the airport, Victor stared out the window, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. He'd never admit it out loud, but he already missed the estate, missed Klaus. But he also couldn't deny the small spark of excitement in his chest at the thought of what lay ahead.

"Here's to new beginnings," he muttered, the words a quiet promise to himself. For better or worse, his next chapter was about to begin.