Prologue

How long had it been?

Days, weeks, months, years. Time was a blur without her. Without her Seiko. She was real, she existed. There wasn't any other way those photos existed.

The photos with bodies but no faces. And those text messages. Those damned messages!

Everything was done to "persuade" her that Seiko was nothing more than an imaginary friend; pills (which she always feigned taking), therapy, and there was even threat for a mental institution. But, she knew that she didn't have the imagination for such a thing. The way Seiko talked, how perverted she was, the way she moved, the way she smelled. Oh, by God, how she longed for Seiko, perv and all. That's why she lashed out at everyone who tried to tell her that Seiko was only imaginary, even her own mother, who only moments ago tried to convince her once again of the "truth".

Seiko was real.

Real. Real. Real! And she belonged with Naomi, her best friend.

Another knock at the door.

Whoever was there didn't wait for Naomi to respond and opened the door. She was surprised to find that it wasn't any of her surviving classmates, who had had their memories of that damnable place stripped from them, but Hashimora Hideaki. Fairly tall for 17, he stood at 5'9. His hair was jet black, standing up on end on his right side, like he had slept on it and his bangs fell in the same direction, just above his eyes. Oh, yes... his eyes.

They were deep, woodland green and, since they were in low lighting, would have been considered normally dilated. But, in truth, they were unseeing. Hideaki was blind. Most people seemed to think that blinds have the cataract film over their eyes, so it isn't until they see the red and white cane do they realize it. And the confident manner he walked in threw most for a loop, too.

"Nakashima," he said, friendly tone evident, "I thought I'd drop in and see how you were."

Naomi didn't respond. So, even he didn't remember? She was drawn by a light chuckle from him. He collapsed his cane and leaned against the doorpost, "Are you having 'mental troubles', Nakashima?"

Why had he said it in such a light manner? "You find a madwoman amusing, Hashimora?" she droned.

Hideaki's grin fell to sadness, "Please, call me Hideaki. Must I remind you that I lost someone as well?"

She gasped and spun to meet his sightless gaze, "You remember?"

He sighed, "Unfortunately. But, I suppose that it was fated that I survive. Obviously, Kamisama wanted me to remember."

"'Kamisama'," Naomi laughed bitterly, "How can you still believe in something like Kamisama?"

"Pure faith, Nakashima... I think I've actually doubt the Faith more times in the past month than I have in my entire lifespan."

She merely hummed dully. Hideaki could only guess at her appearance, only having seen once before. That sadistic school had given him his sight, only to return him without it. If he had to guess, she probably had bags under her eyes from a lack of sleep and her hair had to be a mess; more so than his. He heard Naomi shuffle her feet and moved toward the sound. Hideaki came to stand in front of the girl, "Listen, it's been hell for me, too. 'Tsuko-chan was my everything. To simply act as if she never existed is agony."

Then, he hugged her, "This is harder than anything people our age should face. So, why am I here, you ask? I'm here to tell you that there is a way to reverse all of this."

Thoroughly taken aback, Naomi snapped her gaze up to his face, "What?! R-Really?!"

Hideaki closed his eyes and let loose a wide smile, "You don't think I've wasted my existence sulking, do you? I've researched book after book for something and I think I've found it."

"Is it another spell?"

A lot like Ayumi and her family, Hideaki had an obsession with the spirits of the dead. And, even though he was Roman Catholic and the Church considered necromancy a grave sin, which is anything that has to do with interference or communication with the dead, the ebony haired boy couldn't help himself. He often performed minor spells and charms on himself and his friends, even if it was without their knowledge. Ironically, he hated black magic. Saying so helped his conscience, knowing fully well that any type of magic that wasn't fake often relied on the power of fallen angels, demons.

For once, the boy's expression fell dark, "No... I'm afraid it's much darker. More of a blood ritual. As much as I despise blood sacrifice, I'll leave the decision to you. Do you want to?"

Naomi hesitated.

Why did she hesitate?! This was her chance! She gripped the front of his shirt, tears rimmed her eyes, "I... I have to... I have to! For Seiko."

"Okay, then."

The preparations were tedious. They went into the basement of Naomi's house to set it up. In the concrete floor, Hideaki drew a pentagram with a red stick of chalk; drawing the Satanic symbol with his own hands nauseated him to his core. After inscribing the proper Latin around it, he placed and lit candles at each point of the star. The both of them sat, facing each other, in the center of the star, with a metal bowl between them. "You ready?" Hideaki asked Naomi.

She replied with a confident, "Yes!"

"Okay," he paused before closing his eyes, then, he changed languages from Japanese to Latin, "Ex infimo specu fons peto potentia. Fati arguo veritatem eius. Rogo autem resurrectionem animarum quattuor. Sanguinem nostrum sacrificium offero."

He gripped a knife and leaned over the bowl. In a quick motion, he sliced at the palm of his hand and flexed. Warm, crimson fluid washed over his fingertips and palm, dripping into the bowl. When there was enough to cover the surface of the bottom, he relaxed his hand and handed the knife to Naomi, "Now, you."

She took the bloodied knife in her shaky hand. Naomi doubted herself. She had developed hemophobia in the wake of her return from Heavenly Host, just as Hideaki was now afraid of the sound of dripping liquid. She shook her head vigorously, determined to get Seiko and her friends back. Naomi laid the blade in her palm and steeled herself. She slid the knife.

She cringed; the sting of pain was neither as painful or as long-lasting as she had previously thought. As the knife split her tender flesh and spilt the sticky, red life into the bowl, the pain of the initial cut began to descend into a prickly sensation, no longer white hot, yet still uncomfortable. Then, there was a instability in the air that slowly escalated into a violent shaking. "An earthquake?!" Hideaki seemed panicked, "Did we do it wrong?! No ...Everything was exactly as it should have been!"

Soon, Naomi's vision faded into pure white and Hideaki's awareness of their surroundings dulled, unable to hear, smell, or feel anything. Finally, a voice called out to them. "Why would you ask such a thing? And from the fallen ones," it didn't sound angry, no, it actually sounded disappointed, like a parent scolding a child.

But, it was loud and made both of them tremble in fear. He spoke again, "Who are you to question My Will?"

Hideaki whimpered, tears prickling at the edges of his eyes. This is... He is...! He fell to his knees and wailed, "My Lord! My God! Forgive me!"

"So, now that you are here, facing Me, you ask forgiveness?" He questioned, "Where was this sorrow when you put your trust in Satan and his demons?"

Naomi looked stunned. Hideaki was openly weeping now as he answered. He felt the truth explode from inside him and his voice cracked, "I hid it under excuses! I was cowardly and put my will before Yours..."

There was silence, save Hideaki's sobs. For the longest time, there was nothing. Until God spoke again, "I will not give you what you want."

Naomi's heart fell. What was she supposed to do without Seiko? For the rest of her life, at that! It was unbearable, even just the thought! But, He spoke again, "You will work to revive your friends. Just once, I will do this. But, all of your friends will be in peril, as well as yourselves, once again. This is My Will."

Now, it was Naomi's turn to speak, "Yes, Lord."

"Go, earn their lives."

To the girl, Hideaki's sobs echoed and faded, as well as her senses.

Naomi sat straight up in her bed, gasping. She looked down to her hand and found it completely normal. There was no cut. There was no blood. Even her room was straightened up again, no longer the mess it was when she had thrown her tantrum.

She looked around, eyes wide. Was it a dream? Was her entire tantrum, Hideaki's spell, even his visit a dream? It had to be. Seiko and the others were still gone.

Naomi droned through her morning routine, bathing, hygienics, and the likes. Only when she stepped out of the bathroom, only a towel wrapped about her, did Naomi hear her mother call up to her, "Naomi, Shinohara is here."

She froze.

Her eyes widened even more.

As fast as she could, she threw on her Kisaragi uniform and nearly leapt down the stairs. There, waiting for her, was Shinohara Seiko. She wore a bright smile, just like Naomi remembered. "Seiko..." she whispered.

Naomi lunged forward with a cry of, "Seiko!"

Seiko herself was surprised by the sudden hug, but decided to enjoy it to the fullest. With a wink and wide smile, she said, "How the hell are ya, babe!"

The other giggled fiercely and laid her head on Seiko's shoulder, "Great. Absolutely wonderful."

"Well, ain't that just the perfect attitude for the best day ever!"

Naomi looked at her, "Huh?"

Seiko melodramatically feigned hurt, with a hand to her forehead. "How could you possibly forget, milady?" she pointed down to the dufflebag and cheered, "The sleepover of all ages, my dear Naomi!"

"O-Oh!" Naomi was internally freaking out now, but played along, "Oh, yeah! How could I not remember! Eheheheh..."

Pointing her finger upwards, Seiko called out, "Alrighty then! Let's get dat ass of yours down to school!"

And, there it was; the little groping feeling on her backside. Naomi knew it well. Strangely though, she almost welcomed it after going without it for so long. She mentally shrugged and settled on the answer of a really weird withdrawal.

"Eep!", she smacked Seiko's hand away from her butt, "Stop that!"

As Seiko giggled perversely, Naomi smiled and grabbed her best friend by the hand and almost dragged her out the door, "Come on, let's go!"

The two walked along as though nothing had changed, but it was obvious to Seiko that something had changed in Naomi. The day before, she had been perfectly normal, but now, Seiko would catch Naomi smiling at her when she thought she wasn't looking. Naomi was also being really clingy, not that she disliked it! Quite the opposite, but she was constantly linking or grabbing at Seiko's arm. While they did that before, it used to be so casual.

Now, she could practically feel the other girl's content and happiness. Seiko was getting giddy, herself. Maybe there was a chance between them! It made want to squeal! Naomi had never been this affectionate and now that she was, Seiko had hope.

As they neared Kisaragi, Naomi hugged her arm and stayed there. Deciding that she had done enough thinking for the moment, Seiko simply relished in the contact. Hope in her heart and Naomi on her arm? She was in paradise! But, Naomi was so clingy because she knew.

She knew they were all about to go to Hell again.

Basically, it means: "I ask for the source of power from the lowest depths. Fate argue truth. I urge the resurrection of the souls of the four. The sacrifice of our blood."

But, the fate argue truth part is supposed to mean that the caster rejects Fate's decision and wants to reverse it.