The Fallen Messiah by Paulzies (Highschool DxD)

*First Chapter is the worst one.*

Latest Update:May 14, 2018

Summary: He woke up with no memories in a whole new world. But that won't stop him. He'll get them back fast, and in doing so, he'll reawaken his lost powers. And all of a sudden, the Wildest Wildcard has finally been drawn.

Link: https://m.fanfiction.net/s/11746903/1/The-Fallen-Messiah

Word Count:155k

Chapters:18

Chapter 1

It was still dark outside when he woke up – no, when he was woken up.

He turned to look at the clock next to his bed.

3.30am

Then, he shifted slightly to face the figure sitting on his chair, whose presence had stirred him from his sleep. He didn't dare call the entity a human. It gave off a feeling he could only describe as otherworldly. He wondered how he knew.

"Good morning," he finally said after a brief staring battle.

The figure stood from the chair and walked up to his bed, the moonlight from the window finally illuminating him. Whatever it was, it took the form of a human male teenager. He wasn't fooled by the ripped jeans, or the plain T-shirt, or the red tousled hair the being wore. This was no child, no mere human. There were faded and silenced screams in his head telling him to be wary, some even telling him to run.

It definitely had power, but he couldn't detect any ill-intent coming from it.

Yet.

Upon seeing his guarded look, the non-human smiled and he shivered. It didn't have teeth, it had fangs – and they lined the interior of its mouth, sharp and serrated.

"You should wait a little more before deciding if it's good," the entity replied. Even though the creature moved its mouth, it didn't speak. The words came straight into his mind, bypassing his ears, and that caused him to stand up straight, and he narrowed its eyes at it.

"You didn't have to dress-up for me. What are you really?" He asked.

It looked down on itself briefly, before giving him that same creepy grin as earlier.

"I didn't dress up for you. I dressed up for them."

"Them?"

It gestured to the window and what lay outside it. "Those who rule this world, of course. Who'd know the havoc that would ensue if I had descended in my real form? There'd be panic – I'd never be left alone, all eyes would focus on me, and by association, you as well. Besides, this is only a small fraction of my essence. The rest of me… Let's just say it's somewhere else."

He continued staring at it, not understanding it.

It continued to speak. "As for what I am, for now I suppose you can call me Red."

He frowned at the unenlightening answer. Before he could open his mouth however, it interrupted him.

"Have you not realized?"

"Realized what?"

"Your memory."

His eyebrows shot up. His memory? He began to dig immediately.

And found absolutely nothing. Panic began to rise in his throat. He turned to look for a mirror, finding one next to a cupboard. He recognized the blue-haired reflection staring back at him, but nothing else.

His history? Gone.

His friends and family? Wiped clean.

His name? Forgotten.

There was nothing he could remember.

Sweat began to form, trickling down his face. His breathing began to quicken, and he could feel his hands shaking.

He looked back at Red, who was still grinning at him. It clearly enjoyed his reaction.

Fear was quickly replaced by anger and he clenched his fists.

"Did you do this to me?" He asked.

"Yes." Was its immediate reply, and then a moment later, "but not because I wanted to."

He gritted his teeth. "Then why?"

"Because that white-haired girl asked me to."

"And why would she order you to do that?"

He was surprised by the flash of anger in the creature's eyes, which he now realized had slit instead of circular pupils. Like that of a serpent's. It snarled and raised its voice. "Do not presume that I am so weak that I do things because others tell me to. If I so wanted to, I could sink this whole island with a flick of my claws. Are we clear on that?"

He found himself nodding, and released the breath he didn't even know he was holding when Red's expression returned to normal. His mind lingered momentarily on the word 'claws' but he dared not ask.

"It was for your own good." Red finally admitted. "If you come here with your old memories haunting you and your psyche still shattered by your trauma, your judgment will be flawed. Do not be so afraid though, your memories will return to you in bits and pieces. Hopefully by the time when you have recovered most of them, your soul will have mended enough such that you do not feel like destroying this world."

"Destroying… this world?" He echoed.

Red laughed for the first time. "You have power, boy, even if you cannot feel it right now. You will regain full use of them in due time, and when you do, I am curious as just how powerful you can be. Do you think I let anybody with a sob story cross the threshold into this world? When I first saw into your soul, I saw so much potential and possibility that you stand a chance to rival me." Red cracked opened his lips, as though it was baring its fangs. "My body has not trembled in such excitement in centuries. I am very much looking forwards to our fight. And we will fight."

He felt uncomfortable at the bloodlust and focus directed at him. Quickly changing topics, he asked, "Who is this white-haired girl?"

Red shrugged. "I forget her name, she was not worthy enough for me to remember, but she claimed she was an acquaintance of yours, and that you were very important to her."

His empty mind did not help – he could not recall anything no matter how hard he tried. "Where is she now?"

"Not here."

"Wha-"

Before he could finish asking, Red raised his hand. "My patience grows thin. School starts at eight in the morning. Until we meet again, Arisato Minato, Sleep."

His eyelids suddenly felt as though they weighed a few tons each, and slumber overcame him.

His eyes snapped open at the sound of an alarm ringing. Instantly, he sat up and looked around his room, searching for Red. There was no sign of his presence at all; even the chair had been pushed back under the table. Had it all been a dream?

Unlikely, for he still could not remember a thing.

Sighing, he got out of bed, turning off the alarm.

6:00am.

He was frustrated that Red had left so abruptly. He still had so many questions. Then again, Red had seemed reluctant to answer anything in the first place. He pressed his face into his palms. What in the world was he supposed to do next? He didn't even know his own name.

Wait. What had Red said before sending him to sleep?

'My patience grows thin. School starts at eight in the morning. Until we meet again, Arisato Minato, Sleep.'

Arisato Minato.

Instinctively, he knew that was it. He couldn't explain it, but the words rolled off his tongue perfectly. He was Arisato Minato. He smiled.

It only lasted for a second before he was confused again, another question coming to mind.

What did Red mean by school?

Minato looked down at the emblem stitched onto his left breast pocket.

Then he looked at the golden walls inscribed on the gates in front of him.

Kuoh Academy

He let out a whistle of appreciation. Were it not for the cars bustling behind him, he might believe that he had travelled back in time.

Kuoh Academy looked as if someone had tried to convert a massive Victorian-era mansion into a school and succeeded. High walls surrounded the huge plot of land, while well-maintained gardens and bushes dotted the area within. A straight path led from the iron gates to the main school building, a six-storey high structure with a water fountain in front of it. He had done his research before coming; Kuoh was a private school that catered to the very talented and the very rich, and it showed. The pristine white building looked as if it was chiseled from marble itself, and grand pillars reached from the ground to the roof.

Looking around, he could see students engaged in conversation walking past him, most of them girls. He was feeling slightly at loss, having no clue where to go. Following the crowd, he walked in, taking note of the conversations going on around him.

"I heard the Perverted Trio almost got suspended yesterday. The Kendo Club was pissed."

"What? They haven't been expelled yet? What's the Student Council President thinking?"

"Who knows? By the way, did you do the homework? I completely forgot about it, can you lend yours to me before class so I can copy it?"

"Again?"

The students seemed ordinary, which unsettled him somewhat. He felt aged and old, and for some reason he couldn't help but think he had long outgrown school. At last he reached the grand doors of the school building, but he was hesitant to enter. Where would he go from there? He didn't know what class he was in, or if he was even in the school records.

"Excuse me, are you Arisato-san? The new transfer student?"

He turned around and saw a black-haired student standing before him. She was short, her head only reaching to his head, but she carried herself with confidence. A pair of glasses sat on her nose, which she pushed up. Her hair was cut short and her uniform ironed, she was clearly a well-groomed person. She gave off the feeling of authority.

"Yes," he replied politely, "I am Arisato Minato. I recently arrived in this city, nice to meet you."

She looked him over briefly, and then stuck out her hand. "Hmmm, I'm Shitori Sona, the Student Council President, welcome to Kuoh."

He took her hand and shook. She had a surprisingly strong grip for someone that looked so small.

"Come," she said, "Let us get your orientated to the school."

The school was deceptively large, much bigger than it had originally looked from the outside. Contrary to its historical appearance, its interior was modern with its top-class facilities and cutting-edge equipment. Then again, it was expected from a rich school. What he did not expect however, was the forest behind it.

The forest was at least thrice the size of the school building, and that allowed it to hide another building within.

"This is the old school building. It's currently used by the Occult Research Club. I'd warn you against going in. There is a reason why the Occult Research Club likes it so much," Sona said.

He found it odd that one club had the entirety of the building. Then again, it looked dilapidated, with its exterior faded and vines and moss creeping along the walls. Probably no other club had wanted to use it, he reasoned.

After a moment of silence staring at the building, Sona clapped her hands. "Well, that concludes the tour, let's get you into class."

As they walked back, Sona began to talk.

"Arisato-san, there are a few things I think you should know about Kuoh before you get settled in."

She paused for a moment.

"I'll presume that you've already done your research, and that you know that Kuoh was once an all-girls school that recently turned co-ed?" At seeing him nod, she continued, "It's only been a short while, so as you would have seen earlier, there is a proportionally large lack of boys in this school. This makes it difficult for us, as the government requires co-ed schools to have a minimum percentage of each gender to ensure fairness. Thus, boys in this school enjoy a certain degree of technical 'immunity' from expulsion as a form of punishment."

At this, Sona's tone went abit more serious, and Minato was starting to understand where she was going with this line of speech. "However, do not abuse this. Kuoh expects the highest of standards from its students, and students who violate the code of conduct will be disciplinary dealt with."

"I understand," he said.

She nodded in approval, "good." For a moment, he thought that was it, but Sona's face turned slightly sour. "You seem like a responsible and diligent person, so I'll trust you for now. But I should also inform you that there are a few students who are negative influences here in Kuoh."

"I see. That is normal, doesn't every school have a few bad apples?" He responded.

"Indeed, but this bad apple in particular is in your class. Please," it almost sounded as though she were pleading with him, "whatever you do, please, do not become like Hyoudou Issei. Do not associate yourself with him, do not follow him, try not to even talk to him," and then under her breath she muttered, but still loud enough for him to hear, "three of them is enough of a headache."

"I… will try," he said, to which Sona looked thankful for.

The walk back was spent in relative silence, which was only broken by Sona when she felt the need to point out and introduce minute things they had missed out in their initial tour. Finally, on the fourth floor, they stopped in front of a door.

"And this is your classroom, Arisato-san. Please enjoy your time here in Kuoh, and I hope you do make the best out of it to have a meaningful and enriching youth," Sona said before bowing deeply and walking off.

He didn't know why, but somehow he felt that was the most sincere and genuine thing Sona had said all day.

Shrugging away the strange sensation, he slid the door open, revealing a classroom full of students and a lone teacher. Their lesson having been disrupted, every pair of eyes now turned to look at him. Ignoring their gazes, he walked in.

Now that he was facing the class, he could see what Sona meant by the skewed gender ratio. In the class of around thirty or so students, there were only four boys.

The teacher, a young woman, quickly regained her senses, "Oh you must be Minato-kun! Welcome welcome! I'm Yuki Shizune, your homeroom teacher! Welcome to Kuoh!" Turning to the class, she gestured towards him. "This is Arisato Minato, he'll be joining our class from today onwards. Can someone volunteer to help him get used to school here?"

A hand shot up into the air instantly.

"Me! Me! I can teach Arisato-san everything there is to know about the school!" The speaker, a boy with long and brown hair got to his feet. "The seat next to me is empty too! That'll make it easier for the both of us, sensei!"

Shizune-sensei looked uncertain. "Is anyone else willing?" At the lack of response, she tried again, "Anyone else? Please?" It almost sounded as though she was pleading.

He looked up to her. "It is fine, I'll manage."

She sighed, a look of defeat on her face. "I'm sorry then, Minato-kun. But you'll have to sit with Issei-kun then."

Wait what?

Before he could voice out his objections, the teacher had already turned back to the board, and began to write, signaling the resumption of the lesson.

Without a choice, he slowly made his way across the class, where Issei awaited him eagerly. There were a few muffled whispers of luck and pity, but he dismissed them.

"Hello Arisato-san, I'm Hyoudou Issei, but I'm fine with you just calling me Issei!"

"Hello," he said, mentally deciding to ignore all the previous warnings and give the boy the benefit of doubt. There was no way anyone could be that bad.

Patting the empty seat next to him, Issei continued to talk. "Come sit! There is so much for me to teach you!" and then there was a glint in his eye, "now tell me, are you a butt or a boobs kind of guy?"

He hoped he wouldn't proven wrong.

He was.

He must have sinned very heavily in his previous life. Committed some kind of heinous deed. Perpetrated numerous atrocities.

And now, he was paying the price.

His initial assessment of Issei was partly correct – the boy was outgoing, extremely so, in fact. Unfortunately, all their conversations all followed the same thread.

Girls.

Issei was obsessed, to an almost inhuman degree, with girls. And breasts. And harems.

Barely ten seconds had passed after he sat down when the boy tugged on his sleeve.

"Arisato-san, what do you think?"

He leaned over to look at the notebook Issei was showing to him.

His mind was having trouble comprehending what he was looking at. It was a collection of curves and lines, and it was only by tilting his head that he realized what he was looking at.

Issei had drawn Shizune-sensei.

Nude.

He immediately straightened up, choosing to focus his attention on class, only to have the image branded in his mind when he saw said teacher at the front.

Silently he cursed his previous self for amassing such a negative karmic debt in his past life.

He must have done something terrible, on a cataclysmic level to have earned the ire of fate.

That was how the rest of the day went.

He would struggle to pay attention to class, only to have Issei tap him every few minutes to show him some new drawing or to engage in philosophical discussions of the different fetishes and which were acceptable and which weren't.

"So, after my 5th girl, I was thinking about trying to recruit a foreigner, but Matsuda was telling me about how maids were rated higher than foreigners, so I'm really at a loss right now."

Currently, the pervert was spending their lunch break regaling to him his grand vision of building his harem. Initially, he had questioned the feasibility of his goal, actually contributing to the conversation and pointing out the flaws in his plans.

For one, girls had these things called emotions. Issei's response to the probe was so idiotic and unthinkable that he simply had no counter.

"Ah yes, love. The greatest emotion of them all. I will use my love for them to unite them together! As their king, they will naturally love me wholeheartedly, and I will make sure to treat them all equally, to make sure no favoritism is practiced!"

Good Lord. The boy was incorrigible. But Issei did not notice his stunned look and continued.

"When God created breasts, he created them equal. Small, round, big! All breasts are good breasts! Together, my harem will be united by my love for them and their breasts!"

He had tuned out after that, content with letting Issei continue with his monologue while he played music into his headphones at maximum level. Every now and then, he would nod, and Issei would launch into a whole other topic about girls, breasts or harems.

He needed to find new friends.

He had wanted to change seats, but the window seat next to Issei was the only one unoccupied. It seemed Issei's reputation preceded him, and throughout the class he heard murmurs of the infamous 'Perverted Trio' that he had founded, and the latest shenanigans they were up to.

He would have to bear with this for one more year, but he was certain he could do it. Patience was something he had in ample supply, and it would take more than soliloquies of perversion to stretch his thin.

Red

The color registered in his mind before he realized what he was looking at. Instantly, images assaulted his mind.

There is a red-haired girl, and she is standing on the stairwell, studying him.

They are riding on a scooter, and her face is pressed into his back, and he can feel her tears as they soak his shirt.

They are alone in a classroom, and suddenly she pulls his shirt and he feels the sensation of another pair of lips pressing onto his own.

She is Mitsuru Kirijo, and she is his lover.

It felt as if someone had stabbed a knife in his head and started twisting about. He pressed his hands to his head, which was hanging dangerously close to the table, trying to mitigate the pain. Emotions, images and words that were long forgotten attacked his mind relentlessly, and the migraine he was getting from it was unbearable.

Mitsuru

His hands started to shake as the name repeated itself in his head over and over again.

Mitsuru

Mitsuru

Mitsuru

It refused to stop, and the name of the girl he was in love with escaped from his lips in a soft whisper.

"Mitsuru."

But loud enough for Issei, who was leaning over him in concern, to hear.

"Mitsuru?" he asked, "what's that?"

The pain resided slowly, and he raised a shaking hand to the window, pointing to the red-haired girl who was walking in the gardens below that had caught his attention. She looked Caucasian, had a generous chest and deadly curves. But still, it was the red hair trailing behind her that made everything else he saw invisible. She was accompanied by a long-haired brunette and what seemed to be a crowd of followers behind them.

"Ah. I see who you are looking at Arisato-san." Issei smirked. "Your taste in girls is not bad, if I say so myself."

"But neither one of them are called Mitsuru."

He puffed out his chest and raised one leg onto the chair in front of them, before pointing to the two figures below.

"Those two beautiful women are Kuoh Academy's Two Great Ladies: Rias-senpai and Akeno-senpai!"

Two Great Ladies? He frowned. What kind of weird name was that?

"They are the dreams of every man in this school, the crème da la crème in this school that is filled with beautiful women. They are epitome of beauty!"

And then, a steely expression settled on his face and he proudly declared,

"WHICH IS WHY THEY WILL BECOME THE FIRST TWO MEMBERS OF MY HAREM!"

He sighed, and turned to study the so-called "Two Great Ladies".

Imagine his surprise when he realized they were looking right at him in amusement, and upon closer inspection, so was everyone below.

How?

He turned and that's when he realized something he should have a long time ago.

The window was wide open.

And Issei's last proclamation had been loud. Very loud.

Loud enough for anyone standing in the gardens to hear.

It seemed as though the idiot had no social awareness of any kind, and did not realize that the entire classroom and a good portion of the school population now had their eyes trained on him.

And by the sheer proximity he shared with the pervert, their gazes of disbelief, anger and disgust landed on him as well.

He could feel his cheeks heating up, and he hastily lowered his head from the window, planting it right in the middle of the table in embarrassment.

Goddamit Minato, what unforgivable wrongdoing did you do before this?

When he reached home, the first thing he did was flop himself onto his bed. The rest of the day had been uneventful after lunch, but he still found himself trying to come up with new and novel ways to silence the pervert. He had contemplated duct tape, sweets and super glue.

There was something clinically wrong with the boy. He was sure of it. There was no other explanation. Maybe Issei had some past trauma, or an addiction problem. Maybe he was really stressed and didn't know how to relieve it.

Perphaps he should seek to correct the boy for his flaws, instead of judge and fault him for it. Frankly speaking, he didn't really know what else to do with his memory gone.

Speaking of which… he should really be more worried about it than he currently was.

But he had made progress today – he remembered a name.

Mitsuru.

The image of a girl immediately came to mind.

Her pale skin, her long dark hair covering her left eye. And the brown eyes that would soften from their steely gaze to a tender one when his eyes met hers. He remembered the details so clearly he couldn't believe he'd forgotten them in the first place.

Whatever the case, he had a lead. Mitsuru and -

He frowned. He knew there were others. He and his lovers had been part of something bigger.

He was certain of it. In his mind, he saw a group of people standing together, himself and Mitsuru standing in the centre, but the others refused to identify themselves, appearing as silhouettes.

Was the white-haired girl that Red had mentioned one of them? What had happened to her and the others?

What happened to him?

He suddenly felt very tired.

Maybe, he convinced himself, going to sleep would reveal more clues in his dreams.

The rest of the week passed by in a blur, and he found himself settled into the school routine quite nicely. The days were becoming more identical: go to school, listen in class, tolerate Issei and then go home. He enjoyed the long walks home, often taking a detour in the park. There had been no luck with his memories, however, and he had clung onto to every detail he could remember about Mitsuru, scared that it would slip through his fingers if he didn't think about it often enough.

The situation was getting ridiculous, and everyday he was becoming more and more confused with his predicament. He genuinely had no clue what he should be doing. He was aimless. His plan to rehabilitate Issei was working slowly. He tried sneaking in topics that would deviate their conversations to more socially acceptable topics, like fashion, or games. It worked occasionally, but most of the time, Issei was able to manipulate it to return to his favorite theme via lingerie and eroge. Contrary to his appearance, he realized Issei was genuinely quite intelligent, and could put his brain to good use if he was motivated enough. He discovered this after realizing that Issei always managed to complete his homework in the same class it was given out so he could 'have more time to do his stuff' at home. Issei was a work in progress, but for now, it gave him something to do, which he did not mind.

The only notable event happened on Friday, after school.

He had been packing his bag, all ready to go home, when Issei wrapped one arm around his shoulders.

"Arisato- san, do you want to see something cool?"

He turned to look at Issei's perverted grin, before deciding his reply.

"No." He pushed Issei away and turned to walk away.

But Issei was determined in his efforts, and the same hand latched onto his shoulder.

"Come on, Arisato-san! It's the Kendo Club!"

That made him pause.

He'd been contemplating joining a club for a while now, and the Kendo Club was high on his list. Watching them train would certainly be quite beneficial in helping him come to a decision.

"Fine."

Issei's eyes lit up. "That's great! I'll call Motohama and Matsuda!"

He raised an eyebrow. Why were they coming? Did they enjoy swordplay as well?

The first inkling he had that something was wrong was when he realized that they were going in the wrong direction. The dojo was in a separate wing, and Matsuda was bringing them to his "latest vantage point" which was strangely on the opposite side of the building.

He found himself frowning at his choice of company; the Perverted Trio certainly lived up to their name, and talked about nothing other than adult content. To his annoyance, they were adamant in dragging him into their conversation as well.

"So, Arisato-san, do you prefer cosplay or group?" Inquired Matsuda.

"Arisato-san,what kind of fetishes do you have?" Probed Motohama.

Issei, of course, proved to be on a whole other level.

"Arisato-san, I can't decide who to watch this weekend! Help me choose!" And then the idiot promptly flashed two very explicit pictures in front of his eyes.

That was the story of how he broke Issei's phone.

He was saved, however, when Matsuda announced the arrival to their destination.

"We're here! Get your cameras out!" Which sent Issei into sulking mood, because he had been planning to use his phone – which was currently chucked into the dustbin behind.

He, on the other hand, was just confused.

This was a janitor's closet. That was the second inkling he got.

He didn't really understand, but he followed the Trio into it, ignoring the sense of foreboding that was coming.

Did Issei lie to him? No, perverted as he was, Issei was an honest boy.

He would just have to find out.

The room was dark, and upon entering, their voices dropped to hush whispers.

"I just need to move this," Matsuda said as he lifted a cardboard box away, revealing a hole in the wall. "Tah-dah!"

…

Unlike the other two, he was not amused. How was he supposed to watch the Kendo Club's training through such a small hole? And what was with all the secrecy?

"You can go first, Arisato-san, since you're new."

Issei looked slightly crestfallen at that, but he shifted his position to place himself behind the hole.

…

On hindsight, he should have realized that Issei had never mentioned anything about watching the Kendo Club's training. He should have known better, that any activity Issei partook in was sure to be some act of debauchery.

That would explain why he was currently peeping into a changing room.

One which was currently in use by the girls of the Kendo Club.

He immediately turned his head, ignoring the questions that the other three were asking about the details and made his way straight to the door.

"I'm leaving." He opened the door and turned to them, much to the surprise (and horror?) of the other three.

"Oh no, Arisato-san." He froze as he heard a familiar voice.

He slowly turned his head, and lo and behold, there stood Shitori Sona at the entrance, along with what appeared to be the rest of the Student Council. They all carried that fake smile that promised of pain and suffering for those at the receiving end of the Council's wrath.

He was at a loss of words, and the sounds of surprise that escaped from his lips were drowned out by Sona's next words.

"You're not going anywhere."

He had been let off lightly, with Sona giving him the benefit of the doubt and accepting his explanation with a healthy degree of skepticism. She did, however, make it very clear, as he watched the Trio cleaning the men's toilets, of the consequences should he be caught the next time.

There would be no next time, he assured her.

That explained why he hadn't acknowledged Issei's presence for a whole week after that, much less speak to him.

It was once again, on a Friday morning, that something completely unexpected happened.

It began normally, until Issei walked into class with a look of pure bliss that was uncharacteristic even for the normally jovial boy.

As usual though, he had immediately thrust a picture into his face, and asked.

"What do you think, Arisato-san?"

The girl, though much prettier, was far younger than the previous ones, and to his surprise, fully clothed.

But, following the events of the previous week, he remained silent, determined not to dignify the pervert with a response.

Until Issei said, "Her name is Amano Yuma, and she's my girlfriend."

"What?"

He looked at the growing smile on Issei, before he realized that the word had slipped out of his mouth.

"You're talking to me again!"

Indeed he was, he frowned.

It seemed that Issei getting a girlfriend of all things had surprised him to the extent that his Vow of Silence had been forgotten.

But there were more important issues at hand.

"When."

"Yesterday! After school!" chirped Issei.

"How."

At this, even Issei looked confused, and he shrugged. "I dunno, she said she's from another school but she's been watching me for a while and finds me super handsome and super attractive. And that she's totally in love with me and wants to go out with me."

What?

Issei must have noticed his look of disbelief, and he continued. "I know right! I didn't believe it too, but she's super hot and has the most amazing breasts!"

And he didn't find that suspicious?

Judging from her picture, she was beautiful enough to rival Kuoh's Two Great Ladies. A boy like Issei had nothing to offer her, she was way out of his league. What could cause a person to stoop so low?

He looked at Issei, who was still staring at the photograph dreamily, then frowned to himself.

Whatever the case, Issei seemed happy, and this Amano Yuma could possibly help change the pervert into a semi-decent excuse of a human being. Though from what he'd seen, the chances of that happening were so miniscule he would call it impossible. Then again, he'd felt the same way about Issei finding a girlfriend. Look how that turned out.

"We're going on a date this Sunday!"

Still, chances were that this Amano Yuma had somehow misjudged Issei, and that the relationship would crash and burn within a few days.

"Arisato-san?"

Which meant… Issei could perhaps learn a lesson or two from his heartbreak, and turn over into a new leaf.

"Arisato-san, why are you ignoring me again?!"

He smiled. Either way, this was a win-win for him.

Somehow, having a girlfriend made Issei twice as more annoying. To the extent that the brown-haired boy had dragged his whole table towards his own so that they could converse better. (he was still ignoring him.)

His lessons were punctuated with pictures of her, along with screenshots of their texts, but most of the time was spent with Issei sprouting ideas for his weekend date.

"So after the movie, I was thinking that we could go somewhere private, you know? Somewhere that has that romantic feel to it. Somewhere that could end the date on the perfect note!"

He was surprised by his ideas, not because they were revolting, but because they were normal. Perhaps the boy was still salvageable.

Still, the boy had put in a lot of effort into planning the date, and he personally felt that the Amano girl would enjoy it, company be damned. It was almost endearing to see the boy so genuinely excited and happy for the weekend to come, and not having to listen to his more lewd thoughts was a major upside to this recent development.

He supposed that justified a response.

"Try the park," he suggested.

"The park?" Issei repeated, "I suppose nobody really goes there in the evening-"

He frowned, he did.

"-and it is kinda pretty..."

Slowly, a smile crept along Issei's face, and the lovesick boy gave him the toothiest and flashiest grin he'd seen in a long time.

"Thanks Arisato-san! I knew you were a nice guy!"

He blinked at that comment. A nice guy? He didn't really know how to respond so he didn't, opting to focus on the worksheet on his desk instead. Inside, he smiled. For all his flaws, Issei had something going for him.

"By the way, Arisato-san, do you think I have a chance of … you know… getting laid?"

… Maybe not.

Persona

When he remembered that particular word, his world had shaken.

He had sunk to the floor, clutching his head in agony, as the word kept banging on his mind.

PersonaPersonaPersonaPersonaPersonaPersonaPersonaPersonaPersonaPersonaPersonaPersonaPersonaPersonaPersonaPersonaPersonaPersonaPersonaPersonaPersonaPersonaPersonaPersonaPersonaPersonaPersonaPersona

"I am thou... Thou art I... From the sea of thy soul, I come..."

Persona

"Call for us, Minato!"

Persona

"Per…son…a!"

…

Nothing happened.

He was certain something was supposed to, but nothing did. The word was stuck in his head, but he had no idea what it meant. It was something close to him, he was certain – the word had rolled off his tongue so easily.

He had searched it up the moment he recovered.

Persona:

1. a person.

2. personae,the characters in a play, novel, etc.

3. the narrator of or a character in a literary work, sometimes identifiedwith the author.

4. the mask or façade presented tosatisfy the demands of the situation or the environment and not representing the inner personality of the individual; the publicpersonality

5.a person's perceived or evident personality, as that of a well-known official, actor, or celebrity; personal image; public role.

…

That was pretty useless.

But this was it, he knew. This word contained the key to the rest of his memories. He was certain of it. Perhaps he was currently a mask, a fake, a persona.

Whatever the case, he would know the truth soon enough.

For now though, as he stared into the empty contents of his refrigerator, it seemed he would need to replenish his food.

That meant going to the supermarket across the park.

As he looked at his phone while walking back, he realized it was Sunday evening, the supposed end time of Issei's date. He wondered how it went, and if the girl had ditched him the first chance she got.

Then he realized, he could go and see for himself. After all, he had to cross the park to get home.

He felt like a busybody, that he was poking his nose into business that clearly wasn't his. But his curiosity got the better of him and he picked up his pace in search of the water fountain Issei had deemed to be the endpoint of the date.

In his defense, the park had been his idea. He just wanted to know how it turned out.

That's when he heard the scream.

Without a doubt, the cry for help was Issei's – he'd heard it enough times in school when the boy had gotten caught peeping to recognize it.

Issei was here, and he needed help.

Instantaneously, he dropped his bags, running towards the origin of the cry.

Please be alright Issei.

He was fast, much faster than any ordinary human, but right now, every second felt like a minute, and the fear within his heart kept growing as the evening continued to grow darker.

He could feel his legs starting to tire when he first saw the fountain through the trees and bushes, and he was about to call out for Issei's name when he saw the wings.

They were floating in the air, massive and black, made of feathers that ruffled in the cool night breeze. Wings that shouldn't exist.

"Fallen" voices seemed to sneer in his head, but he paid them no attention, because he saw who the wings were attached to.

With a start, he recognized her. The long black hair, violet eyes and the flawless skin.

She looked taller, and her school uniform was replaced with scarce pieces of leather straps that covered only the most scandalous regions, but he was certain.

Amano Yuma was floating in the air.

Slowly, his gaze lowered from the flying figure to what she was staring at, and his blood froze.

Issei.

He was there, lying against the fountain, some kind of light shaft piercing through his chest. But it was the blood that made him come to terms with reality. It was everywhere: surrounding the boy, on his clothes, and splattered onto the fountain and the water within.

One look at the morbid scene, and he knew immediately that the light spear had pierced through and incinerated his entire chest cavity. There was a pang of sorrow, and he knew his classmate – no, his friend, was gone.

His nude sketches, perverted monologues, dreams of becoming a harem king.

Gone. Just like him. There would be no Hyoudou Issei sitting next to him tomorrow.

There was no chance of survival.

He watched as the spear protruding out of Issei disintegrate in glitter of light, and as Amano Yuma descended from the sky in front of the corpse.

He almost lost it when she placed her boot on his face.

"Call for us."

He could feel the rage building up within him, and something within the deepest recesses of his mind clicked. This thing, Amano Yuma had killed the closest thing to a friend he had. His hands tightened into fists, and his gritted teeth were started to hurt. His breathing began to pick up as he prepared to do… well, something.

She would pay.

Then, she turned to face his direction.

And smiled.

Then any semblance of his earlier fury was replaced with fear.

His survival instincts kicked in, and he immediately started running in the opposite direction.

He recognized that smile. It was the smile a predator had when it found a new prey.

He was that prey.

It was fight or flight, and he knew he could stand no chance against the winged thing. He was an ordinary human, and supernatural beings like Amano Yuma had the natural advantage.

He hated it, but he needed to run. Someone needed to know what happened to Issei, and no one would know if the sole witness was dead.

The adrenaline was pumping through him, and he ran so fast towards his apartment he swore he was getting tunnel vision.

He was only semi-aware of the honking of cars and the yells of people as he dashed across the road that lay right next to his apartment.

He kicked the complex doors open, and took the steps three at the time, and with each turn, he made sure to turn behind, worried that some winged beast would come chasing him.

When he reached his door, he fumbled for his keys before jamming them into the keyhole, twisting them while pulling his door open at the same time.

As he slammed his door shut, he sighed.

He'd made it.

He leaned his back on the closed door, slumping to the ground. His thoughts and emotions were in a whirling frenzy as he tried to process what in the world just happened.

Issei was lying in a pool of blood, with a light spear jutting out of his chest.

Issei was dead.

Killed by Amano Yuma, who apparently had wings and strange powers.

His breathing was ragged, and his heart pounding.

What had he just seen? And what had he just gotten himself into?

"Do you honestly think that I'll let you go so easy now, little human?"

He froze. He didn't recognize the voice, but it was filled with a sadistic pleasure, and there was only one person- thing he could match it to.

How.

Slowly, his shivering hand reached up to flick on the light switch next to the door, and his blood curled when he processed what he saw.

Standing in his living room was Amano Yuma, and a light spear ignited in her hand.

"Welcome home." A sadistic smile spread across her face.

He didn't even have time to scream before the scene of her unfurling wings was followed by a bright flash of light and pain.

Then everything went black.

Where was he?

If he had to describe the place he was in, it was like he standing in the middle of a nebula. A myriad of colors surrounded him – bright swirls shifting and spinning all around him. There was no ground, but he was not falling.

"You died fast."

He turned around at the familiar voice.

"Red," he greeted. Then he looked down at himself. He was naked, but otherwise his body was fine. "I'm dead? Did that Amano Yuma girl kill me?"

"Yes. She stabbed your heart clean through with a light spear."

"Is this the Afterlife?"

The teen shook its head. "Nope. People like you don't get to the Afterlife when they die."

"Why not?"

It shrugged. "Because people like you aren't supposed to exist in this world. Your souls aren't returned to the afterlife, they kinda just… drift around, I guess? Until they fade of course, but that can take a while."

"So that's it? I die after one week? And just drift around?" He was getting angry. What was the whole point then? All the mystery, the memory-wiping, the exposure to the supernatural… All so he could die in a week?

"Hrmmm… normally that'll be the case," Red said, but bared its teeth at him in the strange grin it had, "But I told you before didn't I? You're special. Something as trivial as having your heart burnt to bits isn't enough to kill you. They won't allow it."

He frowned. "Who are they?" And then he continued angrily, "and what is Amano Yuma, what kind of world is this? What exactly are you and why am I even here?"

Red looked annoyed. "That's a lot of questions. The answers you seek, some of them at least, can be found in the church. We're out of time, you are waking up soon."

He wanted to yell out in rage, tired of the perpetual shroud of mystery surround his life, but everything faded to darkness and no sound came out of his mouth when he tried.

In a small apartment complex in Kuoh City, a dead man opened his eyes.

Link: https://m.fanfiction.net/s/11746903/1/The-Fallen-Messiah