Kings of the North

By King KK IX

Disclaimer: I don't own Log Horizon or any of its characters, I'm simply abusing- er... using... them for my own personal amusement.

Summary: Thirteen year old Crescenzo Giuliano never expected to become a transfer student in a million years, but you know; shit happens? Separated from his friends due to his love of Anime and the Japanese language, Enzo became secluded; an outcast that nobody knew, only saw. So, when his six friends suddenly show up at the door to his apartment on the day of his sixteenth birthday, he's more than elated as they engage in the one activity that brought - and kept- them together; playing Elder Tale! So then why the heck did he wake up in the middle of a dilapidated city run-over by nature, his six friends by his side, without a single memory pointing as to how they ended up there? And what's this about an Apocalypse!

Rated M for excessive use of swearing (because I like to portray my friend's characters as they are, including their swearing habits).

Prologue - Apocalyptic Results

Every day is the beginning of the rest of our lives...

- King

Beugh-beugh-beugh-beugh... smash!

'Gah... freakin' alarm clock...'

The mop of brown hair shifted over under the thin covers of the twin bed he lay in, groaning as he pulled his disproportionately large fist from the sparking wreckage of what was once an alarm clock. He lay still for only a moment before rolling over and sitting up sideways, his deep brown pools still half-lidded in drowsiness. His hand blindly wandered across the desk beside his bed, before finally grasping onto what they had been looking for. Picking up the thin, blue wire-frame glasses without an upper rim, the boy shoved them onto his face, and the world suddenly became much more clear.

Using his torso to haul his body up onto its feet - because he was too lazy to use his arms, they'd already done their morning workout trying to find his glasses - sixteen year old Crescenzo (Kre-shen-zo) Giuliano (Jew-lee-ah-no) lazily dragged his - like his hands - disproportionately large feet over the carpeted bedroom floor. He deposited himself before the slightly-on-the-small-side hanging mirror beside the door on the side of the room opposite his bed, gazing with a slight grin at the person reflected back.

At sixteen years of age - to the day - Crescenzo was rather proud of who he was. He stood at 173.5cm, just hitting the 5'9 mark, and was one of the tallest kids in his class. He especially relished in this, and considering the fact that he had been standing nine inches shorter just three years prior, and in the two years after that had only grown three inches, it was well-founded relish. He was a healthy 62.5kg, about 145lbs, had broad - slightly slumped due to years of carrying a heavy schoolbag - shoulders and strong arms. He had really let his hair go over the past couple of years, it having grown thick and wild. It rested just past his neck, and his bangs nearly hung in his eyes. His dark brown hair was slightly curly, giving it a rather messy, lazy and unkempt appearance that many of the girls at Kokuou High fell head-over-heels for.

It branched off into what Crescenzo liked to call 'wings' of hair as the hair on the sides of his head tried to find somewhere to grow. Though his hair was naturally a dark, Maplewood brown, there were a few strands of his bangs that had become naturally tinged a lighter brown in the heavy sun of southern Japan.

As his eyes continued to wander over his only-clad-in-loose-sweatpants form in the mirror, they caught sight of the small round clock sitting above the headrest of his bed.

...Or, more specifically, the position of the minute hand.

"Shit!"

Suddenly bursting into action, Crescenzo practically dove for the door to his washroom, quickly brushing his teeth as he slipped out of his loose black sweatpants. Spitting into the sink, he dashed out into his apartment living room and grabbed the school uniform he'd prepared the night before and laid out over the back of the couch.

Rushing past the small island that made up his kitchen, Crescenzo quickly pulled out a small black pouch out from its position above the microwave. Unzipping it, he flipped it open and popped open the small capsule inside. He pulled out a small white strip with some kind of microchip on one end, and slid the mechanical end into a small blue device with a plain screen.

The device lit up, displaying a few random numbers as Crescenzo pulled out a navy blue plastic tube, loading and cocking the back. He placed the side of his long pointer finger flush against a thin hole in the other end of the tube, before pressing down hard on the back-end.

This activated the tube's spring loaded mechanism, and for a split-second, the tiny needle that was inside of his pierced the flesh of his finger.

It drew a single, bright red drop of his crimson life-blood, a drop that Crescenzo held up against the white strip he'd placed into the other blue device. It absorbed his blood, and the teen put his finger to his lips, licking off any excess blood; the wound had already healed.

Quickly the device counted down, its display showing ...5 ...4 ...3 ...2 ...1 ...3.3!

"Fucknuggets!" Yeah, he swore in odd ways, big deal? No one was around to call him out on it anyway...

'Damn it, 3.3? My blood sugar's low, no wonder I was so out of it this morning.'

You see, his odd, western appearance and true-Italian name weren't the only odd things about Crescenzo Giuliano. At ten months old, early in the morning on a cold, november day, Crescenzo had been diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. His body no longer accepted the insulin - an important hormone that broke down the carbohydrates (sugars) in a person's body - that his pancreas was producing. He'd have to control his glucose levels himself for the rest of his life, through the help of man-made insulin and constant needle injections.

Now, at the current moment in time, Crescenzo's blood glucose, or blood sugar, was at 3.3, which meant he had less sugar in his body than was actually required to properly function. Normally, a diabetic's sugar is supposed to be somewhere between a range of 4.8 and 7.8, though these were 'perfect' results. Anywhere between 8.0 and 9.0 was still fine, but the glucose still needed to be monitored and brought down a little. Anything above that, however, was what is known as a 'high', where the diabetic must inject a certain amount of insulin to reduce the blood glucose to normal levels. Though 'lows' did not happen often, Crescenzo knew how to treat them properly.

Grabbing a juice box from his rather empty fridge and a soft piece of toast from the bag on the counter, Crescenzo rushed to the door and threw on his coat to battle the chilly January air. As he downed his juice box, he sprinted down the hallway, only realizing that he'd forgotten his shiny blacks shoes and that he hadn't even locked the door to his apartment in his haste to make the train to school.

Making sure that he hadn't forgotten anything (this time), Crescenzo nearly face-palmed, bread hanging from his lips and all, as he noticed, or rather, the lack thereof, of weight on his shoulders.

He'd forgotten to grab his bag as well.

'Baka,' he thought to himself, having picked up some odd habits due to living in a Japanese environment and going to a Japanese school, yet still speaking to himself in English when he was alone. Even with his still heavily-English-influenced thoughts, sometimes he just called out or thought about single Japanese words, like what he'd just called himself in his thoughts; idiot.

Crescenzo made it to the train just in time; barely squeezing his frame through the closing train doors as he rushed passed the multitudes of people crowding the platform. Finding himself a secluded corner to stand in, Crescenzo munched on his cold, soft bread as he let his thoughts wander before they'd be stuck on the today's lessons in school.

(Kokuou High School - English: Italics, Japanese: Normal Font)

Sad, light blue eyes stared at the messy mane of brown hair sitting in front of her, not giving any of the girls swooning around him the time of day as he focused on trying to copy down the notes their sensei had written down on the blackboard.

Though she sat near him, she didn't swoon over him and try to gain his attention like her classmates did. Sure, she thought he was good looking, especially for a foreigner, and he wasn't a self-centered asshole like most 'cool' or 'hot' guys were, but she couldn't help but find him an enigma.

Crescenzo Giuliano was probably the most popular guy in their grade. Everyone loved him; the girls would swoon over him and the guys thought he was cool. He was good at sports, but not great, he did well in school, he was respectful to the senseis and his peers... but once the school day ended he just seemed to... vanish.

She honestly couldn't put a finger on him. He was popular, but didn't seem to have any actual friends, or hang out with anyone. He did no extracurricular activities, nobody knew where he lived or what his phone number was, and he never really seemed to smile, only twitching up his lips whenever he found it necessary to do so.

She felt saddened by the fact that this boy, who seemed so kind, could disappear from their lives forever, and they would never remember who he was. He was anonymous, just another face, and that disheartened the teenage girl.

She had wanted to talk to him for over a year now, but every time she did her crush got in the way and she'd suddenly become shy and afraid to speak; so she never did. But this time... this time she'd do it! She'd speak to him, become his friend, if just to know that if he ever did disappear that someone would remember him.

The final bell rang, and the girl quickly gathered her books, barely catching a head of brown hair exiting the room. With quick steps she chased after him, her pretty blue eyes scanning the hallway as her light brown hair fluttered behind her. Her tiny, button nose was scrunched in concentration, and her rounded cheeks puffed up slightly when she couldn't spot his tall frame anywhere in the hall- there!

She took off without warning, having spotted him turning the corner as he - most likely - headed off to his locker.

She lost him for a little while, and when she found she could no longer find the boy of her affections, she turned around and began trudging back down the hallway, thoroughly disheartened.

She took a shortcut towards her locker by heading through a pair of heavy double doors that led outside. Though it would be cold, the trip was very short from one side of the building to the other, where the 'A-D' section of lockers could be found. With the surname of 'Allinson', she was guaranteed a locker positioned somewhere by one of the school's many entrances and exits.

As she crossed the courtyard, shivering, she was startled by the loud hollering of a boy a little distance off to her right. Distracted, she looked, and a thought ran through her mind in an instant.

'Foreigner...'

He was tall, taller even than Crescenzo, with short brown hair and a thin beard running down from his sideburns, beneath his chin and connecting across his jaw line to the other side. He also had his hands cupped around his mouth as he yelled something at the top of his lungs - which was rather loud, mind you - in a language she couldn't understand.

"YO ENZO! GET YOUR MIDGET-ASS OUTSIDE! WE'RE TIRED OF WAITING FOR YOU, ALREADY!"

Samantha Allinson had seen many things in her life - she watched too much anime - but never in her life had she seen Crescenzo Giuliano move so quickly before. She watched as he slid across the icy courtyard, coming to a stop before the group of six, foreign teenage boy with what had to be the most surprised look ever on his face.

"What the hell are you- how did you- I don't- what the fuck are you doing here? How? Why? What the f-" He was cut off when the boy who'd been hollering in another language began to laugh and wrapped his arm around Crescenzo's shoulder, pulling him down and rubbing his knuckles against the brunet's skull.'

The group of six boys all seemed to greet Crescenzo differently, and Sam couldn't help but notice the differences between them.

The first, the one who'd hollered, was one of the taller ones. He had light brown hair, a toned frame that nearly screamed 'athlete', and a warm, crooked grin. He seemed to be making most of the others laugh, so Sam pegged him as the jokester. (Though she still couldn't understand what they were saying.) He was also only dressed in a pair of beige kakis and a white t-shirt, the cold winter air not seeming to bother him at all.

The second boy she noticed was a hyperactive boy talking a mile-a-minute. He was the same height as Crescenzo, with straight blonde hair and he had a big grin on his face. He was far more bundled up than the first boy, but even then, he should have still felt the cold air, but it didn't look like he even noticed that it was cold outside.

The third boy was... would calling him a mountain be rude? Well, it was certainly appropriate. The kid was huge, standing a good head-and-a-half taller than Crescenzo. He wasn't built like the people Sam had seen in those workout commercials, but he wasn't nearly fat. Maybe he was just big-boned? Who knew... Anyway, this one also had light brown hair, but unlike the first boy's, his was wispy and clung to his head.

The fourth was, like the boy before, an odd one, but for entirely different reasons. He had a light brown complexion, and stood just as tall as the first boy... but the curly mass of pure afro making itself into a mushroom on top of his head added at least another two, maybe three inches to his height. His posture was slouched, and he wore and unzipped white hoodie with a pair of headphones around his neck.

The fifth boy had hair that was strikingly similar to the first boy's, if only maybe a shade darker, but he stood at the same height as Crescenzo. He seemed relaxed, simply smiling as Crescenzo moved to ruffle his hair. He, like his taller friend, wore only a t-shirt and a pair of red shorts.

The final boy of their off group had slightly curly, short-cropped black hair, with a rather buff appearance. He had broad shoulders and big arms, his head just barely above Crescenzo's own crown. What was different about him, however, was when he began to speak. It was slightly choppy, but Sam could clearly understand him.

"So Enzo, how's Japan been treating you?" he smirked at the gaping expression on the Italian's face, Crescenzo's jaw slowly flapping open and closed as he tried to process what his friend had just said.

"What the actual fuck! When the hell did you learn to speak Japanese?" The boy seemed to have a smug look on his face as he bumped fists with Crescenzo.

"You're not the only one who became obsessed with anime," Crescenzo just continued staring at the boy open-mouthed, but grins slowly began to stretch across their faces as they pretty much sized each other up. Then, the two of them spoke the same words, at the same time.

"Sword Art Online?"

And the grins turned into heavy laughter as the group of boys seemingly became, not acquainted, but re-acquainted with the lonely, foreign boy who had been going to her school for the past three years.

"So, what are you all doing here?" To Sam, it sounded as if Crescenzo was asking a question, simply by the tone of his voice. The first boy was the one to respond.

He pulled a standard backpack off of his back and opened up a zipper, pulling out a laptop, and something that Sam recognized very well.

Elder Tale, her favorite video game.

So did that mean... these boys were here to play Elder Tale with Crescenzo? Why would a bunch of foreigners come to Japan to play a world renowned computer game with one boy?

Oh well, it was none of her business, why should she care?

But... she couldn't help noticing the smile, small, but genuine, that lit up Crescenzo's face as he left the school grounds, laughing amicably with the group of six boys. A smile that she'd wanted to see on his face ever since the first day that she met him.

A smile that had never been there before.

And, with a smile - and shiver, because she was still outside - Sam headed back into the school building to get her own schoolbag from her locker, and head home for the day.

(Crescenzo's apartment - English: Normal Font, Japanese: Italics)

"...Happy birthday dear Enzo, happy birthday to you..." Blowing out the candle sitting upon the cupcake with a laugh, Crescenzo remembered all of the good times he'd had with his friends before he'd been transferred to Japan due to a project taken up by his high school. He remembered cracking jokes with the athletic James and excitable gamer Stanley, playing Pokémon with his neighbor and fellow anime-freak Anthony, watching AMV's with the lazy afro-bearing Nico, playing intense games of hockey with the easy-going Leon, and just hanging out and talking about anything an everything with his mountain of a friend Xavier.

These memories flashed through his mind as he blew out the single candle before him, and for once in his life, he wished that they hadn't been separated; that they'd be able to stay together, just like old times.

But, these thoughts were gone just as quickly as they'd appeared as the cupcake, now missing the candle he'd blown out, was shoved into his face by a laughing Stanley. He blinked in surprise at the sudden invasion of chocolate, before he realized what had just happened, and joined his friends as they roared with laughter.

Though nobody noticed it, Enzo gained a dangerous glint in his eye as he spotted Stanley clutching his sides as he howled. Pulling his pointer and middle fingers together, Enzo quickly jabbed them into the blonds' side, eliciting a sharp, girly scream from the thinner boy.

While Stanley was doubled over in surprise and pain, Enzo wrapped his arms around the boy's neck and pulled him close. With a devious grin, the brunet began rubbing his cupcake-smeared cheeks into the younger boy's hair, bringing about another chorus of laughs from the boys and more than a few whines of complaint from Stanley.

While everyone calmed down and went about setting up their laptops for their upcoming escapade into Elder Tale, Stan went to wash out and dry his hair in Enzo's washroom.

When he came back, he found his own laptop set up and ready to go, and he grinned appreciatively at his friends.

"Yo, thanks for setting me up, ey," Stanley raised an eyebrow at Enzo's sudden chuckling, "What's up with you, ey?"

"You said 'ey', I just never realized how spot-on that specific Canadian stereotype is," commented Crescenzo. Stanley flashed Enzo a grin, "What, you got a problem with me saying ey, ey?"

More chuckled broke out through the room as the group of friends took their seats around the room, each with a laptop in their... well... laps. Before they could log on, Enzo spoke up.

"Hey, did everyone get the new expansion pack?" he asked, getting a few confused looks from the other boys in the room. Nico was the first to speak up.

"Which one, the Novasphere Pioneers?" Nico only got Enzo's nod in response, and a few 'Oh's from the rest of the 'gang'.

There was a chorus of 'yes's and 'yeah's, and Enzo was glad when he counted six affirmatives.

"Alright, everyone ready?" Enzo waited until everything was quiet, "Let's start!"

Enzo entered his username and passcode, slid his mouse across the screen, hit the 'log on' button...

...and the world went black.

So, welcome to Kings of the North, a fanfic written by me; King. This is a self-insert fanfic that will closely follow the canon timeline, but, along with myself, my six friends have joined me. (None of their, or my own, names are being used for safety reasons). Though here aren't very many Log Horizon fanfics, I would still appreciate reviews; you know, your thoughts, criticisms (not flames! Flames are only useful for lighting people on fire!), did you like it? Did you not? Why? Anyway, hopefully I'll come out with another one of these soon.

King signing off