"Welcome to Death Weapon Meister Academy, more commonly known as the DWMA. It stands against the forces of evil, which would plunge the world into chaos and drag humanity to the very depths of fear and madness - the demons known as Kishin, and their insatiable hunger for destruction. To ensure the Kishin never regain their hold on this world, this academy was founded by the Grim Reaper, Death himself."
For such a serious organisation, you'd never expect to walk up that long flight of steps only to be hit in the face by a dazzling display of lights, or to look back down and see the city twinkling with multi-coloured celebrations.
Christmas was on its way, and Death City was filled with stalls lining the streets, crowds so thick that if you stood in the middle of the path you couldn't even see the market vendors to either side. The smell of food was overwhelming, as if the festivities would seep into the pavement and buildings permanently.
Death Weapon Meister Academy was preparing for its own celebrations, along with the victory of defeating the Kishin the previous year. Students were decking the halls with boughs of holly, and the occasional mistletoe here and there. But there was one particular student, who upon arriving at the top step stared with dismay.