Hi, Cardfighters! This is AlexanderCard23, though you can just call me Alex if you prefer. I'm going to warn you now, this is based on the G era style of Vanguard(it's been in production for a while, okay?). And of course, if you notice anything you think could use improvement, feel free to leave a constructive review. Or just review in general, that's good too.

By the way, this story will contain none of the characters from the canon Vanguard series. I wanted to build my own story without relying on established characters. Of course, I don't own Cardfight Vanguard, all of the real cards and plot points from the original series mentioned here belong to Bushiroad, you get the idea. Though, I do own the characters and cards I created. With that done, on with the story!

October 17, 2016

Class was in session for the residents of Dran High School, and with a mere half an hour left of school before the weekend, each and every student was suffering. The proteges of Mrs. Ferona, the physics teacher, were no exception, "Alright, the last thing we're going to do today is practice the relation between speed, distance, and time," the teacher proclaimed.

Unfortunately for her, few of the students were listening, preferring instead to stare longingly at the clock. The teacher continued, seemingly undaunted by the students' lack of attention. More likely, the half-blind teacher didn't even notice the boredom which seemingly suffocated the students. "There will be some papers on the wall outside the classroom, so you just have to complete the problems on those papers. Those who finish early can work on the homework."

There was a collective groan from the class in response to this statement. Many of the students bandied around statements such as "I wish I'd gone to a different high school" and "Why are we required to take this class?"

One brave soul from among them inquired, "Are we allowed to work with a partner?" His fellow teenagers loudly voiced their approval, and the teacher stroked her chin for a moment. To the students' collective surprise, she nodded, and cheers erupted from the boys seated in the back of the room. Having always been socially inclined, they celebrated this minor victory in the seemingly endless war against education.

Two of the boys near the front, however, were less visibly excited at this outcome. One had dark brown hair which reached to his shoulders, while the other had short black hair. The former seemed pale at the thought of collaborating with anyone, while the latter maintained a disinterested expression throughout his fellows' cheers. Both quickly moved towards the door as soon as they were allowed.

One of the boys nearer the back scurried after the duo, pausing beside the brown-haired teen. This teenager, blonde hair spread chaotically across his head, was bouncing on his feet. His blue eyes looked excitedly at his brown-haired fellow, and he quickly asked, "Do you want to be my partner, Joseph?"

Turning to face the blond-haired teen with a nervous expression on his face, Joseph's reply came as a stutter more than anything, "Oh, um, s-sorry Ryan, but I don't think it would work out. I'm not very good in groups like this; they, uh, kinda make me uncomfortable."

The blond faltered in the center of the hallway, gave an awkward smile, and said, "Oh, I understand. Well, see ya." Ryan turned away from Joseph to see that most of the other people were already working, including the black-haired boy.

Now a bit panicked, he nonetheless tried to smile as he extended his hand towards his last possibility. "So, do you want to be my partner, Blake?"

Focused on the equation he was in the midst of performing, the black-haired teen, evidently called Blake, didn't even notice the proffered hand. Instead, he simply grunted, "No. I don't do partners. Nobody does their work and I could get more done without them."

The blond felt his smile dissipate, and slowly lowered his hand. "A-Are you sure?" His tone seemed desperate, and something in his eyes suggested that this was more than a mere partnership to him.

Unfortunately, this didn't register to the lone wolf. His eyes flickered upward from the sheet for a moment before he responded, this time more forcefully. "Yes, I'm sure. Now stop bothering me." His glare lingered briefly, before he turned his attention back to the classwork. In seconds, Blake had seemingly forgotten about the interruption entirely.

Ryan looked around, praying for a partnership with anyone else, but all the other options had already paired up with each other. Looking back at the problems on the wall, his eyes narrowed with anger. His brows furrowed and his teeth clenched as he stalked away from Blake.

"Haven't we known each other for months?" He muttered darkly under his breath. "Don't we sit together at lunch? Don't I deserve more than that look of annoyance? If we didn't have so many classes together, I doubt you would even know my name."

Ryan continued muttering in this fashion for almost two full minutes, completely ignoring the cordial, albeit distant, attitude Blake had greeted him with for most of the school year. Indeed, with every sentence, his mood worsened until he was well-convinced that he had the misfortune of taking the same classes as the worst human on Earth.

In the midst of his sulking, Ryan felt a dull pain appear in his chest. His words halted as his frustration was redirected towards a new source. Why have I been getting these pains recently? Oh, how could today get any worse?

The rest of class passed quickly, though Ryan's mood was still soured by his rejection. His attention was entirely occupied by waiting for the bell to ring. As soon as that happened, he shouldered his backpack and stomped down the stairs as though they had personally insulted his family.

Opening the doors, he felt a new, though not unwelcome sensation: the crisp autumn breeze brushing past him and ruffling his hair. What do you know, the weather is actually pretty nice for once. That's a first for Indiana.

Despite his best efforts to remain negative, the corner of his mouth still twitched in a rogue attempt to smile. I mean, sure, my birthday is coming in just a few weeks. But that's it! Well, I guess there's Carly coming over tomorrow too. Oh, and that reminds me; it's the weekend! And a gaming store just opened nearby, of course, got to check that out. And then there was the...

By the time he had finished listing off the reasons he had to be happy, he had quite forgotten what he had been so upset about. Now with a spring in his step, he began the half-hour walk home. At first, he encountered a few classmates along the way. After a few minutes, however, the crowd thinned and Ryan made the rest of the journey in relative peace.

Accustomed to the quiet journey, he simply wandered in his imagination for awhile. That is, until he remembered somebody who might also be interested in a new game store. Whipping out his phone, he began texting someone with considerable enthusiasm.

Hey Jay, do you want to come with me to the gaming store near here?

After a minute of no response, Ryan pocketed his phone, content to wait. In no time at all, he had arrived at his front door, painted a bright yellow by his energetic sister Carly. As he opened the door, his ears detected a loud conversation from the kitchen. He could make out his mother's voice, though not her words. Suppressing his concern for the moment, he made his way to the stairs, tiptoeing so as to avoid the dreaded "How was your day at school, honey?"

Ascending both of the house's flights of stairs in quick succession, he came upon their spacious attic, which was divided into two sections. The far side of the room was occupied by a multitude of boxes, from which Ryan quickly averted his eyes. On the other side was a bright-pink chair, another of Carly's design choices. Beside it stood a wooden desk, which was dominated by a sleek new computer.

Shrugging off his backpack and shirt, Ryan sat down in the cushioned seat. Leaning back in his chair, he looked down at his torso, which was devoid of anything resembling muscle. He had never been very interested in physical activity, though his metabolism kept him from being overweight. Indeed, for his height of five-foot ten-inches, he was quite skinny.

Preferring not to stare at his lackluster physique, he searched for the shirt he had placed on the desk that morning. Holding up beside a nearby window, the shirt bore an image of a man with long black hair, wearing a black shirt and white pants. He also wore a white jacket, orange lining visible on his collar and rolled-up sleeves. A massive yet elegant sword, the same length as the man himself, occupied his left hand. Studding the man's jacket and hair were green beads, seeming to serve a purely decorative purpose.

Ryan donned the detailed shirt, which he had bought at a gaming convention just last year. He spun around in the chair for a moment before retrieving his phone from his pocket, a reply having appeared on screen. Unfortunately, it wasn't what he wanted to hear. 'Sry. It's one of my cousins' birthdays.'

Ryan sighed in frustration. Scrolling upwards through the messages they had sent over the last two months, he started to see a trend. 'I'm catching up on some work.' 'Got to do a project.' 'Can't come. Next week for sure.'

Ryan scowled at the reminders. He had been trying relentlessly to get in touch with his best friend from middle school, but so far, every attempt had ended in failure. His new friends were alright, he supposed, but his relationships just weren't the same. Something about his old friends, the fun they had, the games they played, the jokes Berry had constantly made, it all seemed irreplaceable.

The games we played...Feeling nostalgic and wanting something that reminded him of home, real home, he walked back down the stairs to the second floor. Opening the door to his room, he stepped carefully through the mess of old clothes, overdue papers, and small packages to arrive at a shelf near his bed. Reaching atop the shelf, he located a hand-sized, rectangular box from among the junk. Opening the cover of the box, he extricated a group of sleeved trading cards.

Numbering exactly sixty-six, the cards were filled with words and numbers his family had never been able to comprehend. Near the center of the cards were various images of sword-wielding Japanese warriors. One card in particular stood out as the man depicted on his shirt. The card's name was Supreme Heavenly Battle Deity, Susanoo.

Ryan reached out to touch the card, smiling tenderly. He felt overwhelmed by memories of childish laughter and playful shouts. As his hand made contact, however, the pain from earlier in the day returned, this time much more severe. Shocked, his arm jerked automatically, forcing his hand off the card. Just like that, the pain stopped, and no mark of its existence remained.

Ryan stared at the card wonderingly, questioning if it had been a mere illusion of his tired mind. After a moment of deliberation, he poked the card and quickly jerked back, but felt no ill effects.

Blinking suspiciously for a moment, he picked up the cards and quickly put them back in the deck box. Leaving it on the floor, he stood up and slowly backed away from the box, as though it were some dangerous animal. You know, I should really see how my parents are doing. Yeah, that sounds like a great idea.

Unbeknownst to him, that moment was the start of something more unusual than had ever before been seen in the suburbs of Indiana. Something decidedly more dangerous.