"Death is the midwife of very great things…it brings about the birth and rebirth of forms a thousand times improved."

-Paracelsus, The Devil's Doctor: Paracelsus and the world of Renaissance Magic and Science.

Issei woke up with a scream.

The scream was quickly followed with pain, his arms flailing about, accidently striking a shelf over his head. The shelf, apparently very deeply offended by the contact, proceeded to deposit all of its contents onto Issei's head; It began with the various small pewter figurines of various eroge heroines he collected over time and ended with a massive scrapbook filled with very specific examples of highly cultured art Issei handpicked himself falling flat on his face.

And then, as if to put the finishing touches on his welcome to reality, his alarm clock went off.

Issei groaned as he used his right hand to block off the sole ray of sunlight penetrating the jumbled mass of memorabilia to reach his eyes. He was angry the first time this happened. As the week went on he grew to take it in with a resigned acceptance. The yandere in the background went unnoticed.

Good morning, world.

"So you guys seriously don't know Yuuma?"

"This again, Issei? We told you already when you first asked earlier this week, we haven't seen or heard anything about your fictional girlfriend!"

"That's right, Matsuda. You have been acting weird for the entire week, Issei. Look, I recently picked up a copy of this new show called Mystical Maiden Merulun. Let's just go to my place, and we can marathon all 13 episodes. What do you say?"

Issei sighed; It was friday after school, the sun beginning to set and clubs were just wrapping up. He had looked for the existence of Yuuma Amano, but could not find anything. When he had checked his phone for the pictures taken with her, there was nothing. When he checked for the numerous texts sent back and forth between him and her, there was nothing. Now, when he had checked with Matsuda and Motohama, which he distinctly remembers their tears of anguish, rage, and pain as they turned red and green with lustful envy when he introduced her to them. Right now they showcased none of the telltale signs of jealousy and resentment they had so clearly expressed not so long ago.

He was tempted to do just that. To join them and forget. It would be so easy. Instead, and with no small amount of reluctance, Issei shook his head at the offer. "I'll pass, I've got some things to do."

Things that are worthwhile are never easy. They do not remember, they claim that Yuuma Amano does not exist.

For all intents and purposes, from what he can tell with what he could find, the girl known as Yuuma Amano has never existed.

And yet, Issei could feel, down to the very essence of his being, that she did exist.

He wasn't able to reach Naoki either: His phone always rolled directly to voicemail, and during attendance his name was called but he never showed up. He had always been hard to get a hold of whenever he did not want to be found, regardless of the consequences. Even then, this was very strange behavior for him. Naoki always told Issei that if there was a problem to try to figure it out on his own before coming to him, anyways. Naoki stated that it was because Issei needed to figure it out to get better, whatever that crap meant. Regardless if the advice was a load of crap or not, Issei thought it will be all right in the end. He could figure it out.

He thinks.

Probably.

Matsuda sighed as he rubbed his scalp with his right hand's knuckles. "Issei, its no good that you're cutting yourself off from us. I know how it feels when you're coming off of such a beautiful dream, but it is best to forget it, it will only give you pain."

Issei could not help but chuckle. Is it better to forget the truth and sit in ignorance? Or to find the truth, no matter how horrible it may be? "Maybe I will. Maybe not. I'll see you guys later."

Issei waved goodbye to his friends as he walked aimlessly from Kuoh Academy. The sun began to set. As he meandered Issei began to ponder these questions hounding him the entire week: Why did Yuuma murder him? Why is it that no one seems to remember her? Why did Naoki suddenly go missing?

Or perhaps Motohama was right. Right that he hallucinated everything, from Yuuma's Radiant smile, the many places he brought her on their date to…to…

Issei looked around at his surroundings as he placed his hand over his heart, grasping his chest tightly once he recognized where he found himself. He had made his way back to the park.

The park where he had died. Where his heart had been pierced and torn apart.

Perhaps he had imagined it all.

Perhaps he hadn't.

One thing he knew for certain was that a vigorous energy that could rival the top athletes at Kuoh Academy possessed him with rabid ferocity. At first he had thought it was a simple good night's sleep that lasted, but the energy stuck with him, as if he had something already, merely unlocked, waiting to be unleashed. Away from any prying eyes he had moved rapidly, possibly coming here unconsciously thinking that the answers could be found here.

He eyed the fountain, recalling a figure smashing into it; seems to be in perfectly working order; no shattered concrete, no leaks, nothing out of the ordinary. The sun had long since already set at this point, and the park itself had no lamps to illuminate the night. Yet somehow, he could still see his surroundings as if the sun had never set. Issei didn't consider himself to be that smart, but he was intelligent and aware enough to know something changed inside him. By all accounts, he should not be able to see in the dark, especially with nightfall casting a black shroud over the Earth.

Issei walked approximately to where he died. He looked down on the spot, before moving to stand in his place when everything went wrong. He closed his eyes, remembering whatever details came back. He could remember her smile, that wonderful smile. He can remember the thundering boom and the ground shaking. He can remember being launched back and impaled with one simple word leaving his mouth: Why?

"She may have hit you, but she obviously did not kill you."

Issei's eyes shot open and whipped around to face the origin of the velvet voice: a tall, buxom woman in a low cut, revealing maroon suit. Issei found her quite beautiful, despite her visible burns. Burns that encompassed her entire form with more cracked, withered scar tissue than skin. Her visage, cold and murderous, looked down upon him as she moved closer with her hand appearing to grasp around some invisible object.

Issei took a step back. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as a cold chill descended his spine. She appeared to know something, but may not be forthcoming. It is worth asking anyways. "Do you know Yuuma Amano?"

She took another step as a crack of lightning flared by her hand. A brief shaft of light phased into existence before fizzling out. She winced, the arm twisting in on itself for a split second before returning to normal. "A meaningless name from someone who never cared about you and never will."

Her words cut. Issei stepped backwards in tandem with her footfalls towards him. He swallowed what little saliva was left in his mouth. It was real. The earthquake, the person crashing into the fountain, Yuuma with her wings and spears, it was all real. It was liberating, in a sense, but more questions arose as well. Many, many questions.

He took a stuttered breath. His eyes focused on her open hand flashing with light as the most pressing question bubbled to the surface: "Why are you doing this? Why did she attack me?"

The woman exploded in a fit of cruel laughter as her head faced the night sky. She slowly lowered her head as her laughter petered out in a twisted grimace, her left hand rubbing some muscles on her right arm. She leveled a single, piercing, yellow eye at him. "You have a gift. You don't know it yet, but we do; We know you can be a threat." From her back, a familiar set of black wings erupted outwards.

"You will die before you can be one."

At those words, a small, yellow knife erupted into existence in her right hand as she rushed forward.

Issei's eyes widened as he moved to his right, the woman's knife tracing the path that his throat had been in a second ago. She brought her arm to her side, a slightly amused expression on her face as her left leg slammed into Issei's stomach. He was launched back into a park bench with a garbled scream, the wood splintering and metal screeching as it caught him before shattering by the impact. Issei rolled on the grass behind the bench. The contents of his lunch mixed with blood spewed forth onto the soil even as he became aware of the wood embedded into his back. He heard the woman chuckle. "She was right: It is fun to play with you. Maybe you have the possibility to entertain me a little before I end your pathetic, miserable life."

Issei rose to one knee, defiance springing to life in his heart. He grit his teeth, even as goosebumps lined his skin. He took one, long look at her, with her sadistic smile, lips split with teeth bared and another damnable implement of death made manifest at the ready. It pained Issei but he turned and ran, ignoring the mockery the woman threw at him.

He struggled at first, almost tripping over himself repeatedly even has his lungs labored under the damage done, but he feet carried him nonetheless. He ran on the asphalt street as he dodged those knives that were thrown at him, some he saw hit the street ahead of him before disappearing, leaving behind small cracks in the pavement where the blades sunk in. Trees and concrete walls lined the street's sidewalk as Issei moved toward the local shops. Issei thought that if there were other people still around, perhaps she would not follow him there, or at the very least, someone would be able to help him.

It was all he could really do: do his best to survive.

That line of thought was immediately shut down as a piercing, agonizing pain radiated from his left leg, causing it to collapse underneath him, along with most of his body. Issei looked at the wound as he cursed, seeing a yellow knife disappearing from reality, leaving a nasty gash that spilled his lifeblood onto the pavement he had previously been running on. He instinctively rolled onto his side as another knife flew where his head used to be. As the roll ended, another one of those damned knives stuck into the ground next to his face.

He could hear his hunter over his heavy breathing, with the soft clacking of high heels approaching.

The clacking stopped as her feet entered his sight.

"Get up."

With the command, she drove her a foot into his stomach with enough force to launch him into a nearby tree, cracking and certainly breaking something. Issei groaned as she laughed at him. He tried to get up, but his limbs failed him. He cried out as one of the damnable knives pierced his chest before disappearing.

Issei tried to stand again. He was close to standing up properly before his legs crumbled underneath him. He rose his head and looked into her gleeful eyes. He could continue to try to run, but it would accomplish nothing but fail to delay the inevitable.

He knew it. More importantly, She knew it as well.

And he could see her enjoy every second of it.

She took her time walking over to Issei. Her fatal femme fatale form moving in a way any red-blooded man on any other day, at any other time, would have greatly appreciated viewing. A cruel smile manifested on her sneering visage as her form sauntered over. As she stopped, her towering presence laughed alongside the crackling of another of those damned daggers of light in her hand. They both know Issei should have been dead already.

"I do believe I will take my time with you, boy. I can guarantee you won't enjoy it.

Issei's hands balled up as her sickening smile widened. His knuckles white as bone as his fingernails digging into his flesh. Blood pooling in his right hand. Strangely enough, he didn't, no, couldn't feel fear. All Issei could feel, outside of the pain, was rage: White hot, unadulterated rage.

He had died. Someone had brought him back. Now, he was about to die at this creature's hands.

It was almost laughable.

And yet, within the deepest depths of his being, he sought an answer. Even as the harridan watched him like a cat does to an immobilized mouse as he struggled to stand. He only managed to raise to a knee swallowing blood when she came within striking distance.

It was then, that Issei felt something resounding within him.

Fight.

At that word, he could feel a wellspring of energy surge forth, possessing him with an energy that seems to crawl underneath his skin. Almost by instinct, Issei commanded, nay, demanded his body to lunge forth. Issei's tightly clenched teeth converted into a self-assured smile as he moved faster then he could have imagined, his fist shooting forward, the wind snapping as it passed.

The vixen barely widened her eyes before impact.

As Issei's blow landed true, he felt a satisfying crunch as he saw her flesh around impact collapse in on itself before she vanished through the concrete barrier in a cloud of dust. As a maniacal grin crossed his face, his eyes widened as he looked at the hand he had thrust forward. Not his fist, but what had enveloped his fist.

A ruby-red scaled gauntlet with a massive, flawless, spherical emerald dead center of the back of his right hand cloaked the limb. The sphere, upon looking at it, seemed to shine even in the night, as if preening under the attention.

Is…this what she was talking about?

And just as sudden as it appeared, it was over.

All the pain came rushing back as his adrenaline ran out. All the strength that had possessed him left. Issei let out a mangled gasp as every wound, every iota of damage made themselves known to him once more. He collapsed almost immediately, pain pounding panic flaring as ever increasing knowledge of his wounds informed him just what had happened to him. The gauntlet seemed to have dissipated, as if it had never existed.

Everything seemed to hurt. And then Issei heard movement from the hole he made.

Issei, with no small amount of pain, strained his neck to face the direction the woman was launched through. His heart sank at what he saw.

That thing stood there. She had one of her hands held tightly where he hit her, and she seemed to struggle with every wheezing gasp, her muscles taut with tension. It didn't matter to Issei: she is still standing. A baleful eye was leveled on him. Where there was once contempt there is now a burning, seething hatred.

Issei smiled through the pain. He would have laughed too if he had the strength and didn't need to breathe though pools of his own blood. It can feel pain. It can be beaten.

He watched as she took a wobbly step closer, then her eye moved away from him. She bore her teeth as if she were a rabid dog ready to tear flesh from bone. Issei blinked, and she was gone.

Issei let whatever breath laid in his lungs loose, and consigned himself to the abyss of unconsciousness.

All Issei could remember were bits and pieces afterwards. He could remember seeing women.

Busty women.
Beautiful busty women.
Big, beautiful, busty women.

The type that didn't want to stab him to death this time.

Quite a rarity, even under normal circumstances.

That and the pain. Issei was sore. He could feel aches that pulsed throughout his body. He could remember being carried through a door and going up stairs, but anything beyond that is a blur. He could feel himself alternating between shivering and sweating as he tossed and turned.

Suddenly, his eyes flew open, and the haze was broken.

He took a deep breath, gulping for air as he rose up from laying down, hands feeling for gaping holes and torn flesh. He felt nothing unusual: As if nothing happened. He could breathe properly without swallowing back blood. Issei lifted his sheets to visually confirm what he already felt. However, he wasn't prepared for the distinct lack of damage whatsoever: the ribs that should have been broken, the bruises that should be there, the gaping wound from the knife, perhaps even an exposed rib or two. Even on the rest of his body he had recovered.

And then he realized that he wasn't wearing a shirt.

Or anything at all, for that matter.

It was at that point he heard a slight sweet sigh at his side.

Issei froze. His head slowly turned to see a beautiful red headed woman, clothed as a fresh newborn, laying in bed, watching him.

And he knew her too: The school's number one beauty and president of the Occult Research Club: Rias Gremory.

She smiled at him, "Good morning."

Issei looked at that smile, and all he saw was blackened wings and a spear through the heart.

Issei rolled out of the bed, a strangled yell escaped his lips as his once-loyal bed sheets betrayed him, holding a leg of his as he fell onto the floor. A long, drawn out ow slowly escaped his lips as the red headed beauty giggled and sat up. "Quite lively when you wake up, aren't you?"

Issei looked up, and realized what exactly the Kuoh Academy uniform was concealing on the enigmatic president of the occult research club. She was rumored to be a foreign beauty from Northern Europe. Issei hadn't met anyone else from there, but even then he doubt that any others could match her; from her snow-white skin, her crystal-blue eyes, her bountiful curves, or her hair: her beautiful, crimson, strawberry-blonde hair the color of blood.

Issei subconsciously put a hand over his heart. He could still feel the wet warmth spewing forth. Rias frowned at that, her brown furrowed. "Does it still hurt?"

Issei blinked at that. "I…what?"

"Your wounds. When that fallen angel attacked you."

Issei stopped moving. His headache from his fall muted. "That…was real…" Issei's mind went back to what he once thought was going to be the beginning of something beautiful, as well as the pain that followed. Then his mind turned to the woman in the maroon suit, and how close she came to killing him. Issei took a deep breath. "No…not physically, anyways."

Rias smiled slightly at that. "I'm glad. It was a miracle you were still alive when I reached you."

Issei's mind ran through every nick, every cut, every broken bone. "And all the damage? I mean, one good night's rest wouldn't patch me up." Although, considering his present company and the state he woke up in, he would be more than happy to be told differently.

"My power healed you. It was quicker with more body contact, but it was the fact I am your master I was able to in the first place."

Issei's mind was about to Jumpstart into exactly what more body contact meant, but that thought was stopped by one word: Master?

His face must have betrayed his thoughts, as Rias's smile seemed to grow wider. "Allow me to properly introduce myself." Rias straightened her back, running her hands through her hair, arranging it to run down the small of her back, her arms resting at her sides. "I am Rias Gremory, and I am a devil."

Issei blinked. His head moving back slightly. "Huh? A Devil?" Like all that occult stuff Naoki's into? But that's all just made up, isn't it? But all those types of thoughts were silence when, in a moment of committing the sight before him unfolded thick, leathery wings like in Naoki's magazines.

It was at that moment a slight ringing, as if someone tapped an empty wine glass came from a small crystal poking out of Rias's clothing, apparently next to the bed after she removed them to heal Issei. It was after the ringing that a boy's voice came from the crystal, "Buchou, we found him." At those words, Rias' face froze before she pursed her lips. She turned to Issei, before bowing deeply.

"I'm sorry to ask you so quickly, but your friend, Naoki Kashima has been causing trouble, and with him, we need your help."

…What?

A/N: I curse the damned hellscape that is real life. Kept editing and re-editing, never really feeling as if it was good enough, in addition to all the madness and pain life throws at people. Someone favorited and I remembered this project. Surprises me how long ago it was with so little and yet people still read it. Figured I'd finish and release what I got and give the fic another shot in Hopefully the next month, but who knows what life will bring? I hope you enjoyed it at the very least. Merry Christmas.