What defines strength? Is it faith? Perseverance? Belief? Physical prowess? Intelligence? Being able to dominate others and force your will upon them? What was it that made someone truly strong? What separated the powerful from the weak? Were people simply born in one category or another, never to rise above where they had been placed?

"Gyahaha, you fucking retards. You really thought today was going to be any different? Give up already!" A light-haired young man laughed harshly. He pressed the bottom of his brown dress shoe against the back of the head of his fellow third-year that he had just finished pulverizing until the latter's face was having a deep and intimate conversation with the concrete used to pave the back alley's floor. "When are you going to learn your goddamn lesson? Huh?!" He accentuated the last word with a rather brutal stomp, uncaring of the downed teen's state even as the boy cried out in pain.

For Heiwajima Shizuo, the question of "What defines strength?" had a simple answer; it was defined by one's fists. Fists and the will to beat down anyone and everyone who dared oppose you. If you didn't have that then it was just a matter of time until the world chewed you up and spit you right back out, leaving you a broken husk of a person.

But not him.

Never him.

The strongest didn't have to worry about such things. The strongest was the one doing the chewing, crunching down on those poor weaker souls that carried themselves with so much swagger and the naive idiots that thought they could hang on his level. He'd extend no mercy to any of them, not a single one. Heiwajima Shizuo did not become the feared man he was today by offering mercy to the beaten and downtrodden. He couldn't afford to.

"W-We're sorry, Heiwajima-sama," the boy beneath his heel muttered pitifully, his voice muffled by the asphalt he was practically chewing on. Shizuo was uncaring of his apologies, his response to such worthless words was to press his foot down harder, careful to put more pressure on but not so much that his skull might burst like a water balloon. This guy and his gang, which lied in broken and battered heaps strewn about the alley, came after him, called him out, threw down the gauntlet, and now he was going to whimper like a beaten dog? To not even remain defiant when utterly crushed?

'You'll never survive in this world,' the blond thought disdainfully, his light brown eyes glaring at those he defeated, no longer finding humor in the scene. He existed on a different plane than these people. His strength separated him from the rest of the world, cut him off and led to his designation as a monster even back in elementary school when his insane physical power began to manifest itself.

It was like a switch had just flipped one day, back when he was just some snot-nosed brat. One day, weak, flimsy, normal. And the next? Strong, powerful, dominating, downright inhuman. He had proven as much when, at 7 years old, he lifted a refrigerator with his bare hands before dropping it when his arms gave out.

Of course, it went without saying that he broke damn near every damn bone in his arms doing it. Muscles almost tearing off fully from the bone, tendons rupturing, the whole works. Doctors had no explanation for how he had done it, attempting to explain it with something they called "hysterical strength" that had no real trigger to it. From that day onward, it was as if his brain had permanently switched to that state. He had superhuman strength that he could call upon whenever he wanted. The only problem is that it didn't come with an off switch and he, being a child with no experience handling or moderating such power, didn't know how to hold back. The toll it took on his body was horrific, his everything breaking again and again simply because it couldn't handle the stress he put it under, even unintentionally. He couldn't even begin to count the number of days he spent laid up in a hospital bed and wondering if he had been cursed to live in sheer agony as retribution for some grave sin he had committed in the past.

And then something incredible happened.

He body began to grow accustomed to it.

Physicians actually had two real explanations for his condition at that time. "Wolff's law" and "Davis's law" or, in layman's terms, two medical terms that stated the more stress put upon the body's bones and muscles, the more the body would simply adapt to the constant demands. The more he broke, the more that was healed (and astonishingly quickly at that, something else they had no answer for). The more he healed, the stronger he became. An endless cycle of his body breaking from the pressure, then rebuilding itself better, faster, stronger, more durable, again and again.

Except, it eventually did end. His body's forced adaptations came to a halt not too long ago, when physicians deemed that his body had reached its physical peak for his age. There was simply no more he could do, intentionally or otherwise, to become stronger that wouldn't be incredibly life-threatening if not outright suicidal.

And then came the fights. God, so many fights. From schoolyard bullies trying to pick on the "freak" to wannabe gangsters trying to look tough by challenging him in the hopes that they'd win and make a name for themselves in the town. From elementary school all the way up to the present and his days in high school, he was beset by challengers from all sides. They wouldn't stop coming, no matter how badly he thrashed them. Beat one, three would take his place, each one believing they had what it took to bring him low and unseat him from the position of being the strongest.

They never did.

How could they?

They were just humans, and he was a monster.

He was the monster.

His feats of strength around town eventually became that of legend. "Legend" was the operative word in that sentence, because nobody could believe a human being, let alone some high school kid, could rip a lamppost out of the ground or pulverize brick and concrete with nothing but his bare hands, regardless of how many witnesses accounts there were. It was also why the cops never came knocking on his door, as they just found it too unbelievable to even consider approaching him. Heiwajima Shizuo was a myth, a legend, a fairy tale, a scary story wannabe yakuza-types told to each other when boasting how they had gone toe-to-toe with the "Dangerous Beast" and lived to tell the tale instead of being crushed into a literal human paste.

Dangerous Beast Shizuo.

Kuoh Academy's Strongest Delinquent.

The titles he received from those awed and terrified by his might. The labels that separated him from the rest of the world even more than his irregular body did. Epithets that caused people to see him as more of a monster than a man. His "legend" gradually became warped as time went on until he was no more than a super strong delinquent with a penchant for complete and utter destruction, stomping out anyone and everyone that got on his nerves. Forever on the warpath, to come across him was to court death. That was the image he had carefully cultivated. And yet they never stopped coming, always seeking to challenge him as though they had something to prove to the world.

'And speaking of a challenge…'

The blond eyed the third-year below him. He and his gang of thugs had been nothing, coming at him with bricks, steel pipes, wooden two-by-fours, the whole nine yards. It made no difference. Their weapons broke against his body, only serving to damage and tear up his uniform – the fifth time that had happened this semester – before he tossed them around like rag dolls. They weren't good for anything other than spreading his name around after being destroyed by him. Messengers to put out the word to stay out of his way. Another cautionary tale to not cross him.

"Next time I see you," the blond began, exerting the most minute amounts of force as he pressed the teen's face further into the pavement, "you'll get a beating a lot worse than today's. Don't come back unless you're a hundred times as strong as you are now. Or better yet, don't come back at all. Crawl back to whatever shit life you had before and remember your place. Understand?"

He didn't even bother waiting for his response, taking his foot off of his head, picking up his schoolbag, and walking out of the alleyway without so much as a glance back at the fallen bodies. They'd live, of that he was (relatively) sure. Probably with an assortment of hospital bills after the beating he had doled out, but that wasn't his problem.

No, his problem currently, if his phone alarm going off was any indication, was that he was-

"Late to school again, Heiwajima?"

Shizou rolled his eyes at his teacher's obvious statement as he walked to his seat in the back, paying little attention to the stares and whispers he received for his tardiness and the disheveled state of his uniform. "Actually I was just getting here early for tomorrow's class," he mouthed off, earning a few quiet laughs from those in 3-B that weren't terrified that he'd beat them half to death just for laughing in his presence. He heard the teacher bark something about learning some respect and to just take his seat quietly if he didn't want to get thrown out but didn't pay it much mind.

Finally reaching his desk, he allowed his bag to drop to the floor before sliding into his chair, placing his head on the smooth desktop and closing his eyes. This morning had been an absolute dumpster fire but at least now he'd be able to get some sleep. His grades would suffer but what did he care? What he wanted to achieve lied beyond the reach of academic study. Attending school at all was just a way to occupy his time in-between fighting, eating, and sleeping. Truth be told, he'd have cut classes out of his schedule entirely if given the option.

Unfortunately for him, he didn't have such a luxury. A downright troublesome and irritating redheaded menace of a girl had called in the favor he owed her ever since their first year to all but force him to come to class. He considered just ignoring the request but the idea of being indebted to anyone just didn't sit right with him, and it wasn't as if she was asking him to actually do anything other than show up. So long as he made an appearance then she would keep that pain in the ass of an unglorified hall monitor, Shitori, off of his back, which was a fairly decent trade.

"Glad you could make it, Shizuo-kun."

The blond sighed before opening his eyes and sat up before turning his head ever so slightly to the right. Light brown eyes made contact with blue, a small smile tugging on the girl's lips, one he found far too bright for such an early hour of the day.

Rias Gremory, one-half of the Two Great Ladies of Kuoh Academy, and held some other nonsense titles like Number 1 Beauty of Kuoh Academy as well. Nonsense in that they were stupid titles, not that she wasn't attractive. Even he could admit the redhead was a sight for sore eyes, though he'd sooner throw himself into traffic before saying as much to her just on the fact that she'd never let him live such a remark down (and that damned ponytailed sadist friend of hers, he didn't even want to think about what that girl would do with such information). Curves for days, a pretty face framed by crimson-red hair, cerulean eyes, and a personality that he had heard other guys in his class describe as "Onee-san Type-A", whatever the hell that meant.

And currently the reason why he was in class instead of doing literally anything else.

"Whatever, Red. Just lemme catch some sleep."

Ignoring the harsh whispers from his classmates about how he dared be so rude to their precious idol as if it wasn't a daily occurrence at this point, he turned away from her once more and let his head thump against the desktop. Not the best or most comfortable pillow, but it would do for now.

Heiwajima Shizuo was a fascinating person to her and had been since their shared first year at Kuoh Academy. Even back then, in only their first week at the school, he had already become the "Strongest Delinquent", a title she hadn't paid much attention to at the time. Whispers and rumors weren't important to her, especially ones that said ludicrous things like "Heiwajima can punch through walls with his bare hands!". She did know of people that could do such things, and there were undoubtedly humans out there capable of those feats with practiced ease, but she doubted her classmate was one of them. By all appearances, he seemed to be a normal human being, albeit one in rather good physical shape.

And then she had witnessed him pick up a soda machine outside the school's gymnasium before effortlessly hurling it several dozen meters away, clear into the middle of the woods surrounding the old school building, where it crashed and caused a minor panic throughout the student body. When she questioned him later about it, not even asking how he had done it but why, he stated that it had "eaten" his 600 yen and enraged him, so he threw it after tearing open the door and taking the drink the machine owed him.

That had been the first official meeting between Rias Gremory, school idol, and Heiwajima Shizuo, school troublemaker.

Since then, he had caused numerous incidents and several hundred thousand yen's worth of property damage to the school. From vending machines, which he constantly found himself at odds with much to her amusement, to the walls of buildings – and yes, he could punch holes through them, the redhead soon discovered, despite the fact that they were reinforced by small spells her father and Sona's had put up in the off-chance Kuoh Academy was targeted by enemy forces –, to school equipment, the blond just seemed to be a natural disaster whenever his anger got the better of him. It was only the influence afforded to her by the fact that the Gremory family owned the academy that kept him from being outright expelled, not to mention keeping him from being forced to pay for damages and repairs.

It was also that fact that had allowed her to get close to him in the first place, after deciding he was more than worth the effort of keeping an eye on. A human being that had the strength that could easily put even some Devils to shame without any signs of using a Sacred Gear or any sort of magic? How could she not be interested in such a person?

After allowing the information that she had prevented his expulsion from the academy to intentionally leak out to the rest of the students, she quickly found herself cornered by him one day as she walked to her club's room in the old school building. She found him sitting on the stone stairs that led into the building, waiting for her.

"Why'd you do it?"

"Because I don't think you're as bad as people say you are, Heiwajima-kun. You just need a chance to prove it."

A short conversation of no more than three sentences, two of which were spoken by her and he said nothing more in response to her answer, but the look of surprise that crossed his face had been more than enough. That was actually the first time she had seen him without a scowl, which was such a shame. Without the perpetual frown etched upon his countenance, he was rather handsome, in a rugged, "rough around the edges" sort of way. If his reputation hadn't been so poor from the start then he might have wound up as the first "prince" of the school instead of Yuuto.

After that small chat, they began to talk more frequently. Well, she talked. He just sort of ignored her, made sarcastic remarks and quips, or told her outright to leave him alone. Silly boy. She hadn't taken that request in their first year together and they were now rounding on their third, why would she start now? Especially when she was clearly making progress, chipping away at his ornery exterior through sheer persistence and determination. He had even replied to her without even a single insult just now, a clear sign that she was making headway.

'Now if only I could convince you to stop getting into fights and to put in more effort towards your schoolwork,' she thought with a small laugh as she watched him shift in his sleep, his face now turned towards her as he napped through one of their teacher's lectures for the umpteenth time. He wasn't likely to take school seriously anytime soon. The only reason he even attended class was that she asked him to and Shizuo, feeling that he owed her a single favor for having prevented him from being kicked out of school, acquiesced.

And as far as fighting went, it wasn't as if he actively went out and beat people up, despite the constant rumors that he did just that. People came after the short-haired blond under the delusion that they would be able to make a name for themselves if they fought him and won. Not only had no one ever won, those that tried typically found themselves in an infirmary (with Rias quietly having their hospital bills taken care of using her family's finances).

Heiwajima Shizuo was, by all accounts, trouble. He was rude, disruptive, apathetic, unsociable, destructive, and approached just about everything with a hair-trigger temper. He had no discernible goals, nor did he have any plans for the future (that she knew of). Feared by the majority of students for his "criminal-like" behavior. Worshiped by some of the odder types, those that wished to follow in his footsteps and claim his title for themselves once he graduated. Ignored by faculty and staff, who wrote him off as a lost cause and someone who would amount to little in society.

Rias cared not a whit for any of their views. When she looked at the boy she saw raw, unbridled potential. If he was this strong as a human then how far could he go as a Devil? And, assuming she somehow managed to convince him to join her Peerage, would it be enough to overcome a certain Phenex's immortality? But even more than those two questions, she wanted to know just what was it that made him into the person he was today. What experiences had he gone through that made him decide that this was who he wanted to be?

She had meant what she said, back during their first real (and far too short) talk. The people that tried so hard to separate themselves from the rest of the world, to try and distance themselves from it as much as possible, they were the ones that had so much to offer it. His persona of being some untouchable, battle-starved delinquent was an act she could see through. The only issue, and the most intriguing thing about him to her, was that she couldn't see just what in particular lied behind that image.

When the lunch bell rang, she put such thoughts out of her head as she reached over to shake her friend – and yes, they were friends, no matter how much he denied it – awake, an almost daily ritual between the two of them. If he missed his afternoon can of coffee then he'd probably go on a rampage when something inconsequential set him off, and she would rather not have to figure out how to explain to her father that the school needed money to repair the west wing.

Again.

"Will you go out with me?"

A simple question, and one that had been posed to him by quite a few girls that were unafraid of his reputation. Some of them even seemed to think his "bad boy" persona was just an act, something he put on to hide his "pain". Why did everything need some sort of Freudian explanation? He was an ass to people because it came more naturally to him than being nice, he fought because he had to for reasons nobody else needed to know, and that was it. Girls trying to dig deeper and understand him on "another level" didn't seem to realize that he didn't have another level.

Regardless of all that and his typical "woman troubles", as that goddamned ponytailed sadist liked to call it, he had to give this weird girl his answer. Physically, she wasn't particularly unattractive. Just the opposite, in fact. Long, glossy black hair that fell down to her generous hips, a cute face that currently bore an embarrassed blush after asking him for a date, violet eyes that shined in the setting sunlight, and breasts large enough that they seemed to be pushing the limits of the maroon jacket she was wearing. To be asked out by such a girl, most guys would drop to their knees and thank God on the spot.

"No."

But the strongest man in Kuoh Academy was most definitely not "most guys".

Shizuo had no time for romance and all the issues that came along with it. Not currently, at least. Maybe one day? He doubted it. The idea of finding some girl to settle down with, getting a job where he worked a soul-sucking 9 to 5 shift, starting a family, raising a child, it all seemed so alien to him. It seemed so boring to him, so ordinary. He wanted more than that normal life.

"I-I don't understand. Why not?"

And here comes the waterworks, the blond thought as he saw the unshed tears begin to form in her eyes. Criers were the absolute worst. If they had the confidence to be upfront with what they wanted then why the hell did they have to crumble as soon as he rejected them? It made no damn sense. Women were such a mystery to him, one he really had no interest in unraveling. Especially not if they were going to get all weepy-eyed and start bawling in front of him as if that would change his answer.

"Because I'm not interested in you," Shizuo said bluntly. "In the span of about five minutes you've admitted to knowing my name, what school I go to, my route to and from school, my reputation, and that you've been watching me pass through here for several days. Meanwhile, I don't even know your name."

"I-It's Amano Yuuma..."

"I wasn't asking. The point is that you seem like a stalker. So, thanks for the offer, but no thanks. Find someone else to direct your obsessive feelings towards. Bye, Amano. Good luck on whoever you decide to ask out next."

Without waiting for her reply, he turned on his heel and began to walk away. He wasn't going to stand around and wait for her to have a breakdown in the hopes that he'd comfort her. That sure as hell wouldn't be happening. He had better things to do with his time than wipe away the tears of some stalker on the overpass.

"I see. I guess this is my fault."

"Yeah, probably," Shizou responded when he heard her faint whisper, not even bothering to break his pace or turn to face her as he continued walking. He was already late on his way home, meaning his mother was going to nag him and ask if he had been out getting in fights again. Which he technically hadn't been, at least not since this morning.

"It's my fault for taking pity on a rabid dog such as yourself. I shouldn't have bothered wasting my time trying to give you one last good memory before putting you down. You can just die on the cold ground instead, completely alone and forgotten. That's a suitable ending for someone like you. Why our Father told us to love you disgusting creatures as much as we did Him, I'll never understand. Just another one of His mistakes, I suppose."

The boy came to a dead stop, not even hearing anything she said past a certain point. To him, it would have just been psychobabble anyway. No, there were two words in particular that stuck out to him and caused the teen to freeze in place.

'Rabid dog?'

He turned around slowly, eyes narrowed as his entire attitude did a hard shift. The bored, apathetic Heiwajima Shizuo was replaced in an instant. "You wanna run that by me again, bitch?" the boy asked through clenched teeth. He began to feel anger bubbling up inside of him, his short fuse already lit. Women and children were strictly off-limits when he went on one of his destructive tears but if Amano Yuuma thought she was going to call him a dog without consequences then she was delusional.

"Azazel-sama assigned me to watch over you in the off-chance your Sacred Gear awakened but he shouldn't have bothered. Even if it's a threat to us in the future, so long as you die before realizing your potential then it won't matter," the raven-haired girl said coldly, her eyes losing all of their previous warmth and nervousness. Her voice dripped with nothing but pure venom now, distaste for him etched upon her face. "So, you good-for-nothing, rude little brat, do me a favor and die. Here. Now."

His eyes were barely able to keep up as the clearly mentally disturbed girl suddenly rushed him. Yuuma charged, a purple lance appearing in her right hand as if by magic with a path set straight to pierce through his heart and out his back, exploding in a shower of gore that would undoubtedly end his life in mere moments. The killing intent in her violet irises, it was almost enough to surprise Shizou. People always came at him with the intention to beat, to maim, to just knock him senseless, but rarely did they ever make a serious attempt on his life.

Unfortunately for his personal psychopath, all the killing intent in the world didn't matter worth a damn against him.

"Wha..."

Shizou's left hand shook as he gripped the mysterious energy spear by the shaft, stopping it dead in its tracks before the pointed end could reach his chest. For the first time in ages, he felt pain. His palm screamed in protest, begging him to just let go, to do anything to make the burning sensations stop. The blond refused to listen, clenching his fist down tighter as if to spite himself.

"If you think it's going to be that easy," he growled, his light brown irises mirroring the intensity she had previously glared at him with, before her expression became one of shock when he stopped her attack barehanded, "you really must be fucking stupid!" the boy roared, throwing his left arm to the side with all his might to force the spear off course, kicking up debris when it impacted the concrete and exploded, before using the momentum to slam his right fist into her cheek.

The blow sent her reeling, spinning while she stumbling back as she desperately tried to regain her bearings. The girl's trembling hand rose to caress her face, resting against the cheek. He rose his left hand to eye level just above his face to get a good look at it while she was still distracted, inspecting the damage she had done in her attempt at taking his life.

The fact that he was feeling pain at all was worrying – infuriating – considering his pain tolerance had long since reached levels where he could be (and had been, in the past) stabbed somewhere non-vital and not even notice until blood loss became an issue or someone else saw it and said something to him. The skin on his palm and fingers was an angry red, peeling away in places. He didn't know much, if anything, about burn stages but he would estimate just at a glance that it was worse than a first-degree burn but not quite a second-degree one either. There didn't seem to be any blistering or swelling, and now that he had let go of the spear the pain had died down to a dull throbbing and stinging sensation that was starting to fade already.

"How dare you. How dare you strike me?!"

His thoughts broke as he looked up once more to his would-be killer. Her eyes were wide in utter fury as well as disbelief and surprise. The cheek where he had struck her had swelled up incredibly quickly. If she hadn't been trying to kill him, the boy would have almost found it comical. She shook with pure rage, summoning another spear to her hand.

"You filthy, disgusting, worthless piece of human garbage!"

As if to mock her, the boy began to laugh. "It's your own fault, idiot. You thought you were gonna kill me in one shot? Who the fuck do you think you are? Who the fuck do you think I am?" he asked, slipping back into his usual habit of denigrating his opponents. That's all she was now, magic powers or no. His reaction time was just enough that he was able to keep pace with her movements and his strength was clearly sufficient for wounding her. Just another fight, just another day.

"I think you're a dead man."

"Then you clearly aren't paying attention."

His response only seemed to infuriate her further. Her body tensed once more and he prepared for the second charge, clenching his hands into fists. This time he'd step in and use her speed and momentum against her, smashing Yuuma's – Was that even her real name? Likely not. Amano Yuuma, approaching him at sunset. Ama no Yuuma, Heaven's Evening Daze. Funny joke. He'd be sure to laugh after knocking her teeth down her throat. – face in with a counter-punch when she went to impale him. Once she was on the ground he'd pin her down and imprint the texture of his knuckles into her skull.

Women and children were off-limits.

But this freak show was most definitely not just a woman. And those humongous breasts of hers said she was no kid either.

She had tried to kill him, and that meant she was free game. She was the enemy, and enemies only existed to be crushed underfoot by his might. Shizou felt a wild grin creep up on him as he took a step forward, intent on punching the girl's lights out and then some. Whatever this lunatic was, she was no longer a person. She just another way to elevate his own status in the town now, once the story got out that he beat some magic chick into the ground.

Monsters killing monsters. It was only fitting.

Sadly, he didn't get the opportunity to find out as the black-haired girl stared at something behind him in shock, her pupils shrinking in what he registered as shock. He could distantly hear footsteps approaching them and resisted the urge to turn his head to see who it was. Looking away from the enemy standing in front of you, regardless of the circumstances, was an easy way to wind up dead. Especially when said enemy could make some sort of spear. Just because he didn't register most pain and had a tough body didn't mean something like having his heart pierced and crushed wouldn't kill him the same as any other person. He was strong, but not invincible.

"Dammit, I should have known he'd be watched," she muttered under her breath before her gaze snapped back to him. "I'll never forget this, boy. I'll pay you back for this disgrace, I swear it on my life." With those final threatening words, wings with feathers dark as the night sky sprouted from her back. She didn't even spare him another glance before kicking off the ground and taking off, flying through the evening sky. He watched her go, momentarily so shocked by the sight that he forgot of the unknown person coming up from behind. Shaking it off, he spoke to himself.

"Come back anytime, bird-bitch. I'll clip your wings whenever you want."

"That was lame, senpai."

"Fuck off, half-pint. There's a height restriction on my jokes," the blond replied instantly, not even questioning the person that was now standing to his side. He recognized the monotone voice almost immediately, not even needing to look down to know the person in question was now sporting an irritated expression, her yellow eyes glaring up at him for mentioning her small stature.

"Idiot."

"Midget."

He spun on his heel and began to walk away with that last insult, resuming his walk home. He was definitely late now and could already hear his mother demanding to know what had happened, especially if she saw the burns on his hand. He wondered what line he'd have to feed her this time. A bad accident in science class? That would explain his hand but not the damage that had been done this morning to his uniform.

"Not going to ask about what just happened?"

Shizou didn't even stop when he answered. "If you're here then Red's probably involved, so I'll just get the answers from her tomorrow. Later, shorty," he called out as he continued walking down the street, mentally going over the various excuses he had already used in the past to convince his mother that he wasn't causing trouble. There was no need to worry about the little birdy that tried to kill him. She tried, she failed. He was the better monster today.

And he always would be.

Koneko watched Shizuo go with a stoic gaze, though if one looked closely they could make out the faintest signs of her lips quirking upwards into the beginnings of a smile. To wave off a near-death encounter as if it was nothing after punching a Fallen Angel in the face and receiving an oath of retribution for the act, that was so like him. An apathetic idiot through and through.

She had moved to step at the moment the Fallen Angel charged at him with her light spear but had been just as shocked as her when the boy stopped it with nothing more than physical strength. No awakening or activation of a Sacred Gear, she could sense no magic being used either, just raw power to halt her spear with his bare hand before driving it into the ground.

'Buchou's going to want to know about this,' Koneko thought as she observed the damage that had been done to the overpass. There was a chunk of it blown to bits and pieces, concrete littering the street below and now currently holding up traffic, horns of agitated drivers blaring and irritating her sensitive ears. The Fallen Angel had put some serious power into her attack and the upperclassmen came away with only some burns on his hand.

"Strongest Delinquent" Heiwajima Shizuo.

He was certainly living up to his title, that was for sure.

Before anyone asks, I do intend on elaborating further on the first two years of Rias, Akeno, and Shizuo's time at Kuoh but I can't make the first chapter of the story a huge flashback because then nobody's going to read it. It'll come in bits and pieces. Things will be explained and brought up when thematically appropriate.

Speaking of Shizuo, he can be described as a warped mix of his namesake, Heiwajima Shizuo from Durarara, and Accelerator from Toaru Majutsu no Index, along with a few other traits and personality quirks thrown in. I'll leave you to decide and decipher what those are and where I got what from. I will say that his looks are the same as the original Shizuo's though, so you can get a better picture of him in your mind.

Updates will be sporadic and pretty much based on public reception, so if you want to see more then review and let me know. I've already written the next chapter and have a general plan for what the third will look like, so, yeah. Review for more and stuff. Will try to answer any questions in the next A/N if I get any and they don't involve spoiler-y stuff. "Sky's Alight, Heaven's on Fire" already has its next chapter finished as of uploading this new story so please don't ask, I'm trying to maintain something resembling an upload schedule.