Rias Gremory was as close to perfect as a person could get. Even she had to admit it.

For starters, she was beautiful. Her features were soft yet refined, with high cheekbones and an aristocratic nose. Long, luxuriant lashes caressed a face that forever smiled, somehow looking aloof and well bred yet warm and kind at the same time. Flawless white skin, pink rosebud lips and sparkling blue eyes betrayed that she was foreign to Japan, if her fantastic figure were not clue enough. Her body was soft and curvaceous, with long legs, large breasts, a slim waist and round hips. Her most striking feature, however, was her hair; a glorious river of burning crimson that she let hang to her waist.

Rias was gorgeous, she was extremely intelligent and very, very rich. If you were to ask her, or anyone close to her, to think of something they disliked about her they would be hard pressed to come up with anything concrete. She was the elite of the elite, the best society had to offer and a real life princess. So it really wasn't an exaggeration to say that she was, almost literally, worlds apart from the man she eventually married.

The first time she ever laid eyes on him she didn't even realize she was looking at a human being. It was the weekend, and Rias had gone shopping for one reason or another. At some point between entering the shop and leaving it, someone had dumped what could most accurately be called a heap of crap in the middle of the pavement. It could have been dirty rags, rotten food or perhaps simply an enormous tangled knot of greasy human hair. It was hard to say.

Whatever it was it smelled disgusting, and was leaking a foul, brown, viscous fluid onto the pavement. It was dark green in color, partly due to decomposition and partly due to some sort of odd fungi that was growing on it in various places. This was not to say the heap had mushrooms sprouting out of it, but rather a particularly furry kind of moss, the sort you get on bread or cake if you leave it in a warm place for too long.

Rias did what any sane person would have done. She turned her nose up and went home. If she had stayed a bit longer, she would have seen four crows land around the decaying lump and peck curiously at its edges. If she had stayed longer still she would have seen a limb of some sort, probably an arm, reach out from the unidentified mass and wave the pests away, before being tucked comfortably back into its side.

Over the next week, Rias did the things an eighteen year old girl is expected to do. She went to school, chatted with her minions and bought outrageously priced Japanese merchandise over the internet. The following weekend she went shopping again, this time with her friend Akeno Himejima. Akeno was as beautiful as she was, though her beauty was more robust, sexualized and mature, something Rias was secretly jealous of. Her long black hair was tied into a ponytail, and her eyes were a vibrant purple.

The two of them were walking down the street when Rias spotted the same pile of garbage, which had moved to slump against a wall next to a family restaurant. Though it had rained a few days previous, the heap was no longer dripping dubious liquids onto the ground and had dried sufficiently that it didn't smell nearly so bad as it did before. "Urgh," frowned Rias, wrinkling her nose at the unpleasant mess. "I wish someone would clean it up."

"Disgusting," nodded Akeno. "What is it anyway?"

"I'm not sure, but I think it might be-"

"A person," grunted a dry, sarcastic voice. "Who thinks it is very rude to talk about someone as if they're not there."

Both girls jumped, startled. "You can talk!" blurted Rias.

"Guess." The heap unfolded itself upwards, far higher than its apparent mass should allow. The man, for that was what he was, was taller than her, the crown of her head only just reaching to his collarbone. He was wearing a large, baggy coat that may or may not have been made from animal skin. Underneath it he was wearing several shirts and several pairs of trousers, which were made of a material that looked suspiciously like sackcloth. His shoes were mismatched and falling apart at the seams, and his hair was a tangled dark mess, forced down by a battered fedora hat. The lower part of his face was covered by what remained of a scarf, while the upper half was smeared with such grease and dirt Rias couldn't even distinguish his age.

His eyes, however, captured her. They were blue, like her own, but they burned with such intensity it was as if someone had set the sky ablaze, then taken two embers and set them into his face. He seemed at once so young, yet so old, she could neither look nor look away.

"Ahem," She started at his dry cough, and her face burned as she realized she had been staring with her jaw hanging open. "As flattering as I find your fascination with my face, I'm afraid I'm going to have to advise you to blink sometime in the near future."

Akeno sat back and watched the exchange, becoming more amused by the minute. Rias, the eternally composed Rias, was acting like a child being chastised by her father.

"I-I'm very sorry," she babbled, smoothing out her skirt with one hand and pulling at her hair with the other. "I didn't-"

"Your hair," he interrupted. "It is a very unusual color. You were here last week, yes?"

"Er, yes, I was." He just stood there and stared at her for a solid five seconds before speaking.

"Rias Gremory, eighteen years old, third year student at Kuou Academy. Though worshiped by the rest of the student body you prefer to interact only with the Occult Research Club, which consists of yourself, your best friend, the school mascot and the school playboy."

Rias' jaw worked uselessly for a moment. "How did you know that?"

"You have a lot of fan-girls who enjoy talking about you in great detail and at great length in shrill and giddy voices." As he finished talking the man held his right arm out straight to the side, smoothly clothes-lining a sprinting, scruffy individual carrying a purse that probably didn't belong to him.

"Thank you!" gasped a woman Rias had never met before, darting forward to snatch her purse. The random woman began babbling thanks as Rias stood there, unsure as to what was going on. The hobo was ignored completely, and occupied himself by dragging the groaning purse snatcher to the wall and propping him up in an oddly considerate manner. Eventually the woman left, but not before depositing a handful of notes in Rias' hand.

For a long moment she simply stood there, wondering at the surreal situation she had suddenly found herself in. Feeling like a total moron, she offered the money to the grimy hobo. "Uh, do you want..."

As if to answer, the man removed a wad of cash from his pocket approximately triple the size of the one she held in her hand. "Do you really think the nice people of this restaurant would serve someone like me?"

With a look of grim determination Rias stormed in through the front door, reward money clasped firmly in hand. When she emerged she was holding a burger, apparently not having had enough for a full meal. Once more, she held out an offering.

The burning look in his eyes seemed to soften somewhat, and he accepted the food in his left hand while extending his right for her to shake. "My name is Issei Hyoudou. Pleased to meet you."

And just like that...

"My name's Ri... But you already knew... Yeah." she mumbled lamely, wishing she had a fringe to hide behind. His hand completely surrounded hers, and was very warm. He was wearing a tattered pair of fingerless gloves, and the feeling of his callused fingertips on the back of her hand made her shiver.

Akeno tapped her on the shoulder as Issei settled himself onto a bench. "I'll just leave you kids alone!" she whispered loudly, giving her a cheesy thumbs up. Ignoring Rias' sputtering protest Akeno turned tail and ran, probably to watch from a more discrete location.

"Do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"Er, uhm, yes." stammered Rias, sitting nervously at the end of the bench.

"Why is it that when you talk, even though all I hear is Japanese your lips seem to be saying something else?"

Her jaw dropped. "Wha... What..."

"If you're not allowed to tell me, I totally understand." he grunted, taking another bite of his burger.

"I... I'm not allowed to tell you."

"Meh. Fair enough." There was a short pause, as Rias stared with wide blue eyes and Issei just kept on eating.

"...Why are you even a hobo?"

"You know, that's not a very polite way to-"

"Sorry," said Rias, suddenly flustered again. "It's just that, I've been in the human world for years, and no-one has ever been sharp enough to notice the language thing before."

"Human world?" he smiled. She couldn't see his mouth, but still, she could tell he was smiling.

"And also," she forged on. "Being homeless usually comes with being malnourished, battered by the elements, etc, but that guy ran into you and you didn't even budge. Like he ran into a tree. Seriously," She began to wind down, realizing she now had his full attention. "Why?"

"Why not?" he shrugged. "Maybe I'm an undercover celebrity and this entire conversation is being recorded on camera. Maybe I'm spy from an enemy country. Or perhaps I'm a mass murderer on the run from the police."

"Mass murderer?" frowned Rias. "You're not actually..."

"Technically no," he admitted. "But then again, I've killed my fair share of people and have my fair share of bounties."

Rias raised her eyebrows, surprised he would confess to as much. "Really? Well, I've bloodied my hands a bit too."

"Anyone from your own species?"

"...No."

"Then it doesn't count."

"It doesn't?"

"No."

"...Oh."

"Are you afraid you failed to impress me?"

"Wha-what?" Rias babbled in surprise. "D-don't be absurd! I-I wouldn't dream of-"

Once more, the fires in his eyes softened. "You're adorable."

Rias turned as red as her hair, and Issei laughed like the sun, warm and filled with life.

For the most significant hour and a half of their lives the pair sat and chatted, on topics that, while riveting at the time, would later evade recollection. Eventually, however, it was time to say their goodbyes.

"Well," said Issei. "Thanks for the burger, I suppose."

"Yeah," murmured Rias, looking at the ground bashfully. "Thanks for... for..."

"You're welcome." For the umpteenth time that day, her face blazed. What in Satan's name was wrong with her! She was a Duke of Hell dammit!

"See you," she squeaked, and, head down in an hideous agony of embarrassment, took off at a full sprint. Issei watched her go.

"Ise..."

The voice drifted on the wind, deep, sardonic and otherworldly. No-one else heard it but him, for it was his burden alone to bear. "Huh?" he grunted, giving no further reaction.

"I want..." Issei rolled his eyes. He knew what came next.

"...to get laid. That girl back there was a total hottie. You should tap that."

"Not going to happen, Judas." Issei started walking, not bothering to lower his voice. After all, what was so weird about a hobo talking to himself?

"Why the hell not? Dat ass! Dem bewbs! And her friend! Two words Ise - THREESOME!"

"You know, once upon a time I enjoyed women as well. Then I was exposed to you."

"You mean I'm your type? Don't get me wrong, I'm flattered, but I only do girls. You should too. They have boobs."

"Indeed they do. However, for some reason it's incredibly hard to get into the mood with you CONSTANTLY BREATHING DOWN MY NECK!"

"And whose fault is that?"

"Yours! No-one asked to become my invisi-stalker, you started that on your own!"

"Come now. I'm not so bad, right?"

"How many times have I tried to have you exorcised?"

"Six hundred and sixty three. Thrice more and I'll be so many kinds of win I'll have to tattoo the word across my forehead!"

"Why bother, no-one would see it but me."

"Way to rain on my parade, dude."

"I try." With an ungentlemanly scratch, Issei trundled to a halt. He had arrived at a certain skyscraper, all glass and metal. Various thugs with dark suits and guns guarded the entrance. Issei tilted his head back and squinted his eyes, trying to see the top. "We're here."

"Did you say you knew this guy?"

"Yeah, he was a rival back when was I still mixed up with the Triads. Calls himself Boss. Never actually fought the dude though."

"We got a plan?"

"Get the girl. Kill the bad guy. Save the world."

"Good plan. Though it worries me, your informant said this guy was a master martial artist. As in actual MASTAH martial artist. He could be tough."

"Master he may be," murmured Issei, stepping slowly towards his target. "But then again..." As the first few gatekeepers noticed his presence, Issei burst forward in a flurry of movement. "...so am I."

Issei flung open the front doors, the guards screaming on the ground behind him. He strode confidently up to the front desk, rifled around inside his coat for a few minutes to retrieve a battered photograph, then proffered it to the horrified receptionist.

"You seen this girl?"

The whole room was dyed red as the alarm went off, dozens of heavily armed men in black combat gear pouring into the room as huge blast doors sealed all the exits. "Get down on the ground and put your hands on your head!" the leader shouted.

"I'd do as he says if I were you," said Issei to the receptionist, but a blast door had gone down in front of her, and she couldn't hear him.

"Open fire!"

A solid ten seconds of gunfire later, and they had run out of ammo. Hundreds of tiny dents speckled the metal wall behind him, but Issei himself was untouched. "Is that all?" he murmured. "My turn then." It was over in moments. As with the gate guards, Issei had broken both index fingers on each guard's hands, but otherwise left them unharmed. It didn't stop them from being babies about it though, despite the fact that he had left each of them eight spares.

Issei raised his arms, examining the dozens of tiny bullet holes going through his dangling sleeves. "That was close. Their rifles were quite strong, I almost couldn't dodge."

"Those were SG552s if I'm not mistaken."

"What, no AK47s?"

"Dude, those went out of fashion years ago."

Issei walked up to the blast door between him and the receptionist, grabbed ahold of it as if it were tinfoil and ripped it off the wall. Astonishingly, she had remained in her seat. "So?" he pressed. "The girl?"

Most of the building's floors could not be accessed normally, save for the first four floors. The fifth floor onward had to be accessed by a small building on the opposite side of the street, whose innards consisted of one huge, heavily guarded staircase. The top floor extended across the street in a broad bridge to the fifth floor, which had elevators leading to every upper floor.

Since Boss wasn't actually pedophilic (just inherently mean) Issei determined he had enough time to take the long way round. It probably would have been faster to just bust through ceiling, but he'd probably hurt his hands. And that wouldn't end well for anybody, except possibly Judas.

This turned out to be an extremely poor decision, as he was attacked by a chopper on the bridge.

Before the pilot's finger could finish squeezing on the trigger, Issei stomped his foot sharply onto the ground. A large portion of concrete and masonry was flipped upwards, allowing him to crouch and be shielded behind it. The hail of machine gun fire was still ongoing as the ground beneath the makeshift barrier fell away, taking Issei's decimated shield with it. The hobo was nowhere in sight.

"Where the hell did he go?" the pilot managed to mutter, before something crashed into the side of the copter and almost sent it careening into a wall.

"He's hanging on to one of the missiles!" shouted his co-pilot, having glanced out the left window to see what was going on. "Fire it!" Issei's arms were nearly torn from their sockets as the rocket let loose, dragging him along for the ride.

"Crash!" hissed Judas vindictively. "Crash!" Issei gritted his teeth and heaved himself forward, trying to force himself into a standing position. As he pulled on the nose of the rocket his center of gravity shifted, and the missiles direction was changed just before it exploded against the building's side. Now inches from the endless windows and heading straight upwards, Issei forced his toes through the soles of his shoes and used them to grip the rockets body. Just as he passed roof level, he threw his weight back and let go with his hands.

Man and missile spun through the air, gravity disappearing for a long, dizzying moment. When his world righted itself, Issei was soaring towards the choppers right, maneuvered there by his uncontrolled, swerving movement. Utilizing the surfing lessons forced into his brain by his grandfather, Issei steered his ride on a direct collision course to his aggressors. At the last possible moment he back-flipped gracefully into the air, the blaze as rocket met helicopter like a warm breeze. He landed in a crouch, then walked unflinchingly towards the skyscraper as the flaming helicopter crashed into the attached building behind him.

"That," admitted Judas. "Was pretty hardcore."

And it was.

Meeting no resistance, Issei walked into the fifth floor lobby and pressed the button next to the elevator. After a few minutes, the doors opened and he stepped inside, invisible possessing spirit in tow. Issei selected the highest floor and settled down to wait. Judas began to hum in time to the background music.

"Is it just me," said Judas. "Or is the elevator going a little too fast."

Issei leaned his head back until he was staring straight up at the ceiling. They continued to accelerate, and the music fizzled and went out. The sensation was probably similar to what one would feel should the gravity rapidly increase around their body. With muscles creaking and blood vessels popping, Issei forced himself into action and grabbed the sliding doors, pulling them roughly off the wall. His work was sloppy, and a small portion of the ceiling came off along with it. Far above, but rapidly approaching, a rectangle of light showed an open door.

Time slowed. A desperate jump, an explosion, and it was over.

"Shit that was close," Issei hissed, heart pounding in his ears.

"So close," moaned Judas, not hiding his disappointment. They were at the beginning of a long corridor, the walls a series of screens like in a traditional Chinese tea-house. It opened up in a large restaurant area, with tables not only on the floor but also in several galleries along the walls. One level up, facing the entrance and sitting on a mound of luxurious cushions was Boss. Unlike Issei, whose wiry frame relied on speed, Boss's huge frame rippled with muscles. He was wearing a large grey cloak with a white trim at the collar over a grey business suit, and a swirling tattoo covered his bald head. Next to him stood a small girl in dirty clothes, three years old at the most. Her hair was tied in a ponytail that reached to her ankles, and she was holding a small tin serving tray in her hands. About her neck was a collar and chain, the end of which was held firmly in Boss's huge paw.

"Issei!" shouted Judas, who no-one else could hear. "Say something cool, like... like... er..."

"Thank you for ordering from Hobo Pizzas," drawled Issei, repeating Judas's words mechanically. "Please enjoy your Cheese Fea-" He looked down at his hands, affecting an air of surprise. "Huh... it was here a second ago."

Boss erupted into laughter. "You have got some balls." he chortled.

A faint smile danced across the tramp's face. "I'm amazed I can even walk."

Boss snapped his fingers and someone threw a sheathed katana from one of the side galleries. Issei caught it without looking. A ninja in a white kabuki mask, of all things, dropped down from the ceiling and landed in a crouch on Boss's left. An instant later and their faces were inches apart, Issei blocking the ninja's naked blade with his own sheathed one. With a powerful swing on Issei's part the other man was flung through the air, landing with catlike grace in the gallery.

As six more ninjas landed around him Issei dropped the sword, and in a maelstrom, a storm, a tornado his punches blurred forth, hurling the goons away from him with deep, fist shaped indentations on their chests. Again without looking, Issei caught the grenade thrown from the gallery and threw it back.

As flames consumed the eastern wall, Issei hurled himself into a roll to avoid the first ninja as he leapt fearlessly through the flames. Grabbing the abandoned sword as he went, Issei swung his wrist and sent the sheath flying before lunging forward. The kabuki ninja leaned back impossibly far, the blade inches from his nose before back-flipping away, forcing Issei into manageable range with a rising kick.

His mask fell to the ground, cut perfectly in half.

"A white guy?" said Issei dryly. "They make Caucasian ninjas?"

The man lunged forward but Issei tapped his sword aside, then pressed forward in a series of smooth strikes. The other man was forced to back away while dodging frantically, until seemingly tripping and falling on his back. As Issei closed in he uncoiled like a spring, both feet slamming into Issei's chest and launching him magnificently into the air. He followed up with an impressive jump, but his thrust was again deflected. Issei swung his sword twice and the ninja felt two stings on the backs of his thighs. The flat of Issei's sword smacked the other man in the face and sent him tumbling to the floor. He landed awkwardly on his front, finding he could no longer move his legs.

He managed to force himself up with his hands just as Issei descended, gravity adding force as the back of his blade slammed into the ninja's skull.

Boss raised an eyebrow as his minion fell. "Not bad-" The hulking monster cut himself off and whirled around, lifting a chair over his head with one hand in an attempt to crush the little girl. And then the odd hobo was there, blocking the hit with his sword. Boss couldn't help but notice that, in his instant of movement, Issei had broken the chain around the girl's neck.

"Get back," ordered the smaller man. "Leave this to me." The girl did as he said and scrambled away.

"Yeah," laughed Boss, abandoning the chair and making some distance. "Leave us alone! Can't you see the grown-ups want to talk!" Issei darted forward, but his swipe went under Boss's feet as the larger man jumped vertically, smashing through the ceiling to the roof. Issei tossed his weapon aside and leapt after him.

It wasn't what he was expecting. Boss had renovated the roof of his building into a beautiful garden, a garden lacking in variety of color, but of a lush, verdant green one usually only sees after recent rain. At the opposite end from where he was standing was a platform shielded from the elements by a tiled roof and in the center stood a huge, mossy rock, upon which stood Boss.

If this were some cheesy battle manga then they would trash talk each other for a few minutes before coming to blows, stopping every so often to go into lengthy descriptions of their attacks. However, this was reality.

Boss was a master martial artist. When he went all out he used a form of Xiaolin monk kung fu. In order to allow himself flexibility between open and closed fisted martial arts he had learned both Metal Fist and Tiger Claw techniques. Backing it were his incredible endurance, placing any battle of attrition in his advantage, and strength that could and would break concrete.

Issei had no presence at all. He just stood there, completely nonthreatening and harmless. Deep inside, Boss admitted to himself that this, the ability to force the opponent to underestimate you was easily the strongest weapon one could have. Boss knew for a fact that it was an act, because of what he had seen in the instant he had attacked the girl.

The notions of chi and killer intent may be overplayed in eastern fiction, but they had genuine roots in reality. For those of Boss's level, they acquired an instinct forged in fire, telling them through sheer gut intuition when someone wants them dead. However, it is only during a fight between two masters that the phenomenon truly blossoms.

It required, of course, a certain amount of imagination on the fighter's part. The most accurate word to describe it would be 'hallucination'. Sensing the incoming threat, the warrior's mind creates an image they associate with the feel of the other, briefly superimposing the image before their mind caught up with reality.

Boss had seen a huge, blue eastern dragon soar through the air and snip the girl's chain with its jaws. The dragon's head wasn't Issei's sword, he found, but his fist. He broke a steel chain with the tips of his fingers, and Boss found that very interesting indeed.

The color, Boss had found, gave one a fairly accurate impression of the other's emotions and mental state. Generally speaking, blue was lucidity and orange was turmoil. The transcendent sapphire of the dragon spoke of calm confidence and worse, terrifying battle experience.

As Boss jumped forward to make the first blow (a steel rending Tiger Claw strike) an image of an immense tiger appeared, his chi dying it a fiery orange. In contrast Issei's dragon was pitifully small, wrapping itself tightly about his body with its head at his wrist. Time slowed to a crawl as Boss fell through the air. As he watched the imaginary dragon coiled itself about the hobo's left forearm, spinning and contracting until there was a small, focused whirlwind of chi swirling about his fist. And then it did something Boss had never seen happen before in his life.

His chi turned a deep, crimson red.

Boss felt rather than saw the fist hit his rib-cage. In the instant as physics fought to catch up with Issei's tremendous speed, Boss heard the other master speak a single word, and the word was-

"Todome."

The enormous man was sent hurtling fifteen meters through the air. As he flew over the edge of the roof and fell to certain death, his last thoughts were of satisfaction. For Boss knew he was a true master for seeing through the complexity of that incredible, reality defying punch.

Before Boss even hit the ground, Issei was in front of the little girl he came to save. He knelt before the frightened child and showed her the picture he had shown the receptionist. The photo depicted her and two other girls, only just entering their teens, and a young man in his twenties.

"Are you Hina?" The poor child didn't even realize she was crying. "Your family sent me. I'm here to take you home. Everything is going to be alright."

For once, Judas had nothing to say.

I will not apologize for the ninjas. They are both funny and awesome.