Warning: This fic will contain canon-typical violence and themes like abuse, sexual abuse, and slavery of demi-humans.
Additional tags: OC-centric, first-person POV, male protagonist, canon-divergent, alternate reality/canon, slow build. This list of tags will be expanded as needed, though particularly heavy chapters will come with warnings when necessary.
Read the A/N at the end of the chapter for more details.
Chapter 1: Head First
Summary: Some people have no one to blame but themselves.
How would you react to waking up in another world out of the blue? You might think something along the lines of I'd do fine, I'd be excited, it's a new opportunity, sappy stuff like that. But let me tell you, daydreaming about it and actually going through it are two very different things.
My name is Kenji Hiroto. I'm not exactly what people would call a shut-in, but I mostly keep to myself and I like it that way. People are a headache to deal with on a constant basis, so I always found solace in solitude. Those are a lot of fancy words to convey a simple message: I'm a twenty one year old loser with no friends.
Nothing special comes to mind about myself. Nothing noteworthy. I sailed through highschool with passing grades, disappointing my parents the whole way. I'm an only child and they expected a lot from me. Their overbearing attitudes killed me on the inside, so I planned to move out as soon as I found work, but they beat me to it. As soon as I graduated highschool, they kicked me out.
"You'll never amount to anything," my father told me on that day.
He probably had this long spiel ready for me, about exactly how big of a loser I was and how hard I let them down with my mere existence, but I didn't stand around to listen. I flipped him off and walked away, and we haven't talked since. And I didn't lose out on anything, I'm all the happier for it actually.
Anyways. Free from their controlling clutches, I started my own life. I found a job and a cheap apartment to rent, and that was that.
Whatever hobbies I had before that point died quick, pathetic deaths. I was never one for going out with friends, mostly sticking to video games and anime, but money got super tight all of a sudden so I couldn't afford to splurge on anything that didn't aid my immediate survival. And with a much awaited MMORPG on the horizon that literally everyone talked about, I was bummed out. It had a monthly subscription fee that I couldn't afford, so I spent my days salty, browsing the internet and trying to avoid spoilers until I could buy it for myself and play. It was hard, as the game seemed to become the center of every discussion in all of the communities I frequented.
One day, an opportunity to make some extra money presented itself to me. A couple of co-workers were talking about whatever, and when they noticed me, one of them approached.
"Hey Kenji."
"Sup, Kishimura," I greeted back.
He stopped by my desk and leaned on it, with a sly smile on his lips. Kishimura always struck me as the cunning and soulless type, someone who'd be more than happy to rope you into a pyramid scheme before leaving you high and dry. So I didn't befriend him, or even talk to him much. Besides knowing his name and recognizing his face, he was a complete mystery to me. And to be fair most of my co-workers were, but I actively kept Kishimura at an arm's length away. How I wish I stuck to that mentality that day.
"Not much," Kishimura answered. "I just wanted to ask you something."
"Go ahead, but if it's about the train fiasco, I have no idea. I wasn't there."
"No, no, no," Kishimura assured me. "I don't care about that. I wanted to ask, how's your money situation?"
I frowned hearing that question. It was so direct and personal, and he asked it with such a serious demeanor, that it blew me away.
"Insensitive much?" I shot back. "Why even ask me that?"
"Look," he excused himself, rubbing the back of his head in long streaks going all the way down his neck, "I might have an…offer. I'm just trying to help, and you seem like the kind that would need it."
I sighed. He wasn't wrong, but I didn't like him prying like that.
"What offer?"
As soon as I showed the slightest bit of interest, Kishimura put on a beaming smile. He was ecstatic, which only served to annoy me further. The whole deal smelled of trouble from a mile away.
"You're a pretty big guy," he said, and I bit down on my tongue to stop from answering with for you. "Pretty strong too, I wager. You just strike me as that kind of person."
"Cut to the chase."
"I knew I wasn't wrong," he continued, his smile distorting into a grin ever so slightly. "Here's the deal: we're hosting an underground fighting ring. Normal people, going at it with all we have. And the winner takes home a hefty prize."
I narrowed my eyes. Was he for real?
"That sounds very illegal," I let him know.
"To be fair, it is," Kishimura admitted. "But we're not forcing anyone into it, and we're not killing anyone. Everyone's there by their own accord cause we can all use the extra money."
I thought it over for a moment, considering the possibility. Climbing the proverbial ladder was a nearly impossible process, even if I worked for years I wouldn't get very far in life. I was stuck at the bottom, so any chance to earn a little more was a godsend. But fighting? I wasn't much of a fighter, besides some scuffles with bullies back in school I'd never thrown a punch in my entire life.
Kishimura noticed my indecisiveness, so he called over the guy he was talking to earlier.
"Tell him, Araki. Isn't it a sweet deal?"
Araki grabbed his own ribs and frowned for a split second. He was a scrawny man, so I couldn't imagine how he fared in such a trial. Likely poorly, and that thought made me wonder how many bruises he hid under his clothes.
"It's awesome," Araki said after a long moment.
"He won the last time," Kishimura cut in. "Took home, get this, one hundred thousand yen."
My eyes widened hearing that, it was no small sum.
"Where'd you get that kind of money from?" I asked. "Is there an entry fee or something?"
"Nothing like that, it's free to join. But we broadcast it on the dark web for people to watch and place bets, and the winner takes a share of those bets."
"Okay, I'll join," I answered.
I couldn't understand what came over me to make me accept, but I did. Well, I do have some ideas, you'll just consider them stupid. I didn't think it was a big deal, I thought I'd back out if it looked like too much to handle, and above all else, I already imagined what I'd spend that kind of money on. A cheap motorcycle, maybe even a car if I won enough times. Some new furniture since my apartment was barren. Maybe a gaming console, or a decent PC. And of course, tons of games and anime.
Kishimura was beside himself with happiness when he heard my verdict. He gave me an address and a time, then he was off, but not before giving me some advice.
"Train up a bit, learn some hand to hand combat if you can. There are a lot of new guys, but the ones that have been at it for a while know what they're doing."
"Will do."
And that was that. In a stroke of stupidity that was the worst decision I ever made by far, I joined an underground fighting ring. I guess desperation does some…interesting things to people.
Looking up the address, I found it was a few kilometers away from the city in a small village, and the first match was two weeks away. It wasn't enough time for me to train in any meaningful way, I couldn't get much stronger physically and any form of hand to hand combat lessons weren't cheap.
I still tried the best I could, however. I did whatever training I could without equipment in my apartment, so mostly stuff like push-ups and sit-ups, and I scoured the web for free boxing lessons. They weren't as effective without a teacher there and without sparring partners, but at least I got to understand the basics. Plus I was counting on my opponents to use other fighting styles, and hopefully boxing would've taken them by surprise.
Two weeks later, I was outside of a nice looking mansion near sundown. It stood in stark contrast to the rest of the village, to the modest and outright poor looking houses. The gate was unlocked so I let myself in, and I found a few people in the living room, listening to another one of Kishimura's spiels.
"Kenji!" He let out when he saw me. "I'm glad to see you've made it, I thought you might've chickened out."
The others shot me dirty looks, so I returned the favor in kind. We weren't pals, we weren't here to make friends or have a good time, we were enemies competing for the same prize.
"Am I late?" I asked. "I thought I made it on time."
"Yeah, it's just that newcomers usually come early their first time."
"Whatever, let's get this over with," I said, trying to sound more intimidating than I actually was.
"I like the enthusiasm," Kishimura answered, "but first things first, we have to present you to the viewers."
"What now?"
He pulled out his phone and pointed the camera at me.
"Strike a pose, something intimidating," he demanded. "The viewers need to see you and form an opinion, else they won't place bets on you."
I raised my arms in front of my face, fists curled, in a basic defensive boxing guard. It looked cool, even though I didn't really know what I was doing. Kishimura snapped a few photos and gave me a thumbs up.
"That's the stuff."
After that, he led us down into the basement. It was dark and cavernous, leaving us unable to see the opposite wall until he turned on the lights. As soon as the neons on the ceiling came to life, they illuminated a ring on the floor. It was little more than a circle drawn with white paint on the bare concrete, and the interior was stained with what looked like long dried blood.
"We'll pull numbers from a box to decide the order, then we'll fight in brackets. There will be seven matches in total tonight, so it might take a while," Kishimura explained.
He went over to a whiteboard, pulling out a black marker and a box with a hole on top. He hastily drew a few lines, forming the as of yet empty tournament brackets. I ran some quick math, and came to the conclusion that the winner would have to fight three matches in total. One in the lower bracket, one in the middle bracket if he won, and the final match after that.
Looking around at the others, I saw that all of them looked pretty normal as well. They didn't strike me as seasoned fighters, and that put me somewhat at ease. We lined up next to the whiteboard, taking turns to pull numbers from the box.
I watched the others with disinterest as they went first, telling Kishimura their numbers before he wrote their names on the board in the appropriate box. When my turn finally came, I walked up to him and put my hand inside the box. Fingers greeted me instead of paper, pushing a slip into my palm. Kishimura gave me a wink when I looked up at him with surprise.
"Number two," I said when I unfolded the paper.
"Great," Kishimura answered. "You're going first then."
Me and another man walked into the ring side by side, and I wondered the whole way why Kishimura would set up the fight. It was my very first time participating, so him wanting me to lose didn't make much sense. Was the guy weak? Did Kishimura want to give me an easy time in order to win me over? I couldn't tell.
My opponent was shorter than me by a head, and he was quite slender as well. His head was shaved bald, same as his face, and he had a mean look in his eyes. When Kishimura showed us where to stand, the man took off his jacket and shirt to reveal a toned body with well defined muscles.
'Shit,' I thought. 'He's in better physical shape than me, he'll kick my ass.'
Kishimura hastily set up a camera near the ring before he spoke.
"Alright, listen up! The rules are simple: first one to yield, pass out, or get knocked out of the ring loses! No nutshots, no sucker punches, and try to stay away from each other's faces! And no killing! Understood?"
"Yes!" The both of us answered at the same time.
"Okay then! Three, two, one, fight!"
The suddenness of it all threw me off and I didn't react in time. Baldy didn't have the same problem, he rushed at me right away and kicked my legs. My knees buckled from under me and I collapsed, feeling a jolt of pain shooting through my body. He let out a laugh, but he retreated and allowed me to get back up.
"You really accept every loser here, don't you?" He mocked, looking over to Kishimura. "Come on, boy! Get up!"
I did as told, rising to my feet and putting up my guard. Baldy took on an unfamiliar stance, looking like something straight out of an old kung fu movie. He rushed me again, but this time I dodged by side stepping and launched a punch of my own. I aimed for the ribs, but he moved and I hit him in the shoulder instead.
As my fist connected, and the recoil of the hit traveled through my bones, I felt…exhilaration. Adrenaline started pumping, raising my pulse and hurrying my breathing, and it just felt amazing. It was a rush unlike anything I'd experienced before, and the fact that I loved it so much took me by surprise.
Baldy stumbled from the blow, but didn't lose his balance. With a wide smile on my lips, I went on the offensive again. He was forced to back-pedal, to defend himself as I bombarded him with punch after punch.
He did get a few more hits in, and I didn't bother to block or dodge them. They just bounced off of me harmlessly, so I didn't see the point. My attention was focused solely on him, on pushing him around, until he was nearly out of the ring.
With a final uppercut, I caught him beneath the chin and launched him off his feet. Baldy landed on his back, wide eyed and with his lower lip split open.
"Kenji wins!" Kishimura announced.
Baldy wore a shocked expression, looking like he hadn't even registered the blood pouring down his face. I walked over to him and offered him my hand.
"Great fight," I said, huffing as I was all out of breath.
Baldy's frown melted into a smile, and he took my hand.
"Yeah, I underestimated you. We'll have to get a rematch sometime."
"We will," I assured him as we walked off to the sidelines.
The second match started soon after, but I couldn't focus on it. As the adrenaline slowly cleared from my system, pain flooded in. Baldy's hits did some damage after all, I just hadn't felt it in the heat of the moment. The knee he kicked hurt, so I'd likely limp for a while. My arms and ribs felt bruised, and I was sure I'd find purple splotches if I lifted up my shirt.
Baldy elbowed me and pointed at the ring, at the two men going at it with all they had.
"Watch and learn," he told me. "You'll be going up against one of them, so you need to know how they fight."
"Good point," I admitted.
I hadn't thought about it like that up until Baldy pointed it out, but fighting styles were very much like attack patterns in video games. If you knew them, if you observed your opponent, you could predict their moves. Know the pattern and you can avoid it.
Still, the two guys didn't seem to use any specific style. They just hurled fists randomly at each other. One of them eventually won when he pinned the other and made him tap out.
After the third match was also over, and a short break for everyone to catch their breath, Kishimura got into the ring to announce something.
"The second round of bets are in! Kenji, you appear to be tonight's favorite."
'Great, just go ahead and say it out loud,' I thought. 'Piss the others off.'
I had my second match, and it went smoothly. My opponent tried the same tactic, flailing madly in my general direction, but a few well aimed punches took care of him. The third and final match went pretty much the same way, and I walked out of there with fifty thousand yen and plenty of injuries. But I won, and I got hooked on the thrill right away. Money be damned, I hadn't felt so alive in my entire life and I wanted more.
Like a junkie in search of their next hit, I looked for Kishimura the very next day. He explained that they have a tournament every Friday, but that he won't allow me to join the next one because of my injuries. Usually, people join one tournament per month at most, though sometimes they end up needing a few months to get better.
"I'm fine," I tried to assure him, but my limp as I walked in had betrayed me. "For real, I can fight. If it's about the money, I'll…"
"No," Kishimura cut me short, his usual devilish demeanor nowhere in sight. "I know you got hooked on the thrill, but you're not allowed to join again until you're all healed up. I don't want anyone on my conscience in case something happens."
The fact that he had a conscience blew me away, I wasn't expecting that. I guess it goes to show that you indeed can't judge a book by its cover. After a few more failed attempts to convince him to let me join, I went home. I finally bought myself that subscription I wanted for so long, but as I booted up the game and was greeted with the character creation screen, I realized I didn't care anymore.
It just felt…meaningless. Hollow. A fake experience that paled in comparison to the real one. Mashing buttons on a keyboard to watch some overblown attack animations, and actually being there, feeling every impact, were light years apart.
So I dropped it. I dropped pretty much everything, save for my job and training. I needed to get stronger, to become better, and I needed to fight again.
The next half a year was spent like that, going to work and training in my free time. My relatively large stature gave me an advantage from the start, but as I polished my skills I became nearly unstoppable. At first I'd get hurt less often, then not at all, so I could participate every other week or so. I'd win most of the time, and I never lost to a knock-out or yield, only to ring-outs.
Kishimura, and his audience, loved me. The contestants, on the other hand, feared me. Some of them even dropped out when they found out I participated. That should've made me happy though, right?
No. It made me miserable. I wasn't there for the money or for an easy win, I was there for a good fight, and as the divide between me and the others grew I was getting less and less of those.
One day after another win, and half of the opponents being no-shows, Kishimura approached me.
"Listen, Kenji," he said apprehensively. "It might be a good idea for you to…stop coming."
"Why?"
"Oh come on," he pleaded. "Don't pretend you didn't notice. You're scaring off everyone, it's becoming harder and harder to find people. At this rate we'll have to stop."
"Then find me stronger opponents," I pressed. "Get some pros in here if that's what it takes."
"Pros won't get involved in this kind of thing, you know it," he answered. "But why not become a pro yourself? You'd get better fights and more money."
Truth be told, I had considered that. I just didn't know how to go about it, and I worried about things like weight classes and whatnot. Here I was getting diversity, I had to go against different fighting styles, so it was more fun.
"How about this: the next time I'm defeated, I'll quit. Make an event out of it, spread the word, maybe it'll motivate people to fight harder."
"You sure?" Kishimura asked, sounding worried.
"Yeah."
"Okay then, let's do it."
So that's what he did for the following weeks. We decided on a date, and I gave him my permission to advertise the event anywhere, as well as to accept anyone that joined. I wasn't sure what to expect, but Kishimura's influence apparently spread much further than I anticipated. We were flooded with applicants, and I couldn't be happier about it.
I won the first tournament like that, and the second one as well, so by the third I was pushing Kishimura to accept some of the more…unsavory people. Guys that knew what they were doing, thugs from various mafia groups and whatnot. He didn't want to, but he gave in after a while.
When I got there for the third event, I was ecstatic. Baldy was there as well, surprisingly enough. But the others were all bigger than me, burly men with blood lust in their eyes, so I was sure I'd finally find the challenge I craved.
And I did. In spades. The first match alone nearly wiped me, the guy hit with enough force to shatter concrete. Full of bruises and weakened, I still won. Kishimura pulled me to the side as they took the other guy out on a stretcher.
"We should stop now," he said. "You're already hurt, just throw in the towel."
"I'll be fine."
"Kenji, please…"
"I'll be fine," I pressed on, feeling my heart pumping wildly. "If I lose I lose, but I'm not giving up."
"What if something happens though? What if you'll be left with some nasty…"
"I'll live with it," I cut him short. "But I'm not backing down. End of discussion."
Kishimura sighed, but he had to start the next match so he left. As I watched them, Baldy approached me and sat down next to me.
"Sup," I asked. "Wasn't expecting to see you here."
"I've been training as well," he explained. "For our rematch. And by tonight's line-up, I figured you didn't have much time left, so I decided to take my shot while I still can."
"Awesome," I said. The second fight ended, so Baldy's fight was coming up. "See you in the final," I jabbed with a grin.
Baldy answered me with a grin of his own and a two-finger salute before he went to take his place in the ring. His opponent was even bigger than mine had been, so I was curious how it would play out.
The fight started out fast right off the bat, as the other guy charged at Baldy. Seeing him so small, he probably expected an easy victory. But Baldy took on a weird stance that I didn't recognize, his body flowing around like water as he dodged all of the man's punches. It was amazing to watch, he had become so much more skilled than when we first faced off.
Between the man's punches, he delivered hits of his own, but those looked just as weird. They weren't chops or punches, but some strange attacks that looked like snakes snapping at his opponent. It was fancy, and it was surprisingly effective by the looks of it.
'Is it some pressure point bullshit?' I wondered. 'No,' I realised as I looked closer. 'He's attacking tendons and ligaments. Focused attacks that will disable the joints.'
Just like I had predicted, the man slowly lost the use of his body as Baldy continued his assault. It sometimes took several hits, but the joints went limp slowly but surely.
"Give up," Baldy urged the man after he disabled his arms.
"Fuck you!" The man yelled, and charged at Baldy with kicks.
Baldy didn't even try anymore. He dropped his guard, dodged the first kick, and grabbed the man's leg under his forearm. He spun on his heels, using the man's momentum to launch him away. The opponent landed outside of the ring, so Kishimura called the match. Baldy shot me a quick look and a grin, and I couldn't help but grin back.
He'd make it to the final, I was sure of it, now I had to make sure that I would as well. And I was also certain that he'd defeat me, but I wouldn't make it easy on him.
I had my next match, and even though the guy was smaller than the first, we were both hurt already. Still, I won and I moved on to the final. Baldy did as well, with much less difficulty than me. We met up after his match to talk.
"Listen, whatever you do, don't go easy on me. Okay?" I demanded. "I won't go easy on you, so I expect the same treatment."
"You're barely standing," he answered. "I can't."
"Oh don't worry, I've been saving some steam for you," I assured him.
He laughed. Not a mocking laughter by any means, but the laugh of someone that understood. Even though we didn't even know each other's names, I felt that we had a connection.
"Okay, in that case I won't hold back. I'll do whatever I need to, so make sure to push me," he said.
I nodded my head, and we took our places in the ring. Kishimura wasn't expecting it, we were supposed to take a break, but neither one of us could bear the wait any longer.
"Three, two, one, fight!"
Baldy took on his stance and kept back, going on the defensive. I took charge, rushing in and testing his defenses with a few feints. His reaction was the same, those fluid movements from before that allowed him to intercept a potential hit without dropping his guard. This was going to be hard.
When he realized that I was faking, Baldy went on the offensive himself. He tried to strike me in the elbow, but knowing that would disable my joint, I moved. The hit connected and it hurt as all hell, but at least he only struck my forearm. Still, I found the flaw in his technique, a way for me to create an opening for an attack. It took him a split second to recover, so I snuck in a punch and it landed.
We both pulled back, with grins wider than before. Baldy's ribs would hurt for a while after a hit like that.
"I guess you were right, I shouldn't hold back," he admitted.
"Told you so."
We jumped back in and, despite my pain, I tried my best. I baited Baldy with more feints, dodged his attacks, and then I delivered my own. They all still landed, I couldn't avoid them entirely, but I made sure to keep my joints out of the way. Strike after strike, I felt more and more bruises building up across my body, pinpoints of agony that were likely finger-shaped.
But I got more hits in as well, and that was all that mattered. In no time at all, Baldy's exposed skin was full of purple splotches as well. At that rate, I still stood a chance of winning, I just needed to push myself harder against the fatigue.
He went on the defensive again, and I considered for a moment to go for another ring-out. But that didn't feel right, this match couldn't end in a cheap way like that. No, it was a either a yield or a knock-out, no third option. And by the look in Baldy's eyes, I knew he felt the same. So I went a bit more aggressive and attacked, even though I knew I was opening myself up. Since I couldn't bait him anymore, I needed to make some sacrifices if I wanted to see it through.
So that's what I did. Short punches with my left hand, then go in for haymakers with the right. I'd sacrifice my non-dominant arm. Baldy didn't see it coming, so after he struck the inside of my left elbow, I caught him off-guard and punched him in the ribs with all of my strength. He stumbled a bit from the force, which would've been a perfect opening for me to finish him off, but I didn't. He allowed me to get back on my feet during our first fight, and I wanted to repay him in kind.
"That's the only freeby you'll get," I warned him.
The left arm wasn't yet disabled, but I could feel that it was harder to move than before. Bending my elbow sent bolts of lightning up my biceps and neck. Another hit or two like that and the arm would've been useless, so I needed to make them count. After Baldy got his guard back up, I went in again.
'Will he fall for the same thing twice?' I wondered.
Just in case he wouldn't, and he decided to absorb the first blow which he thought would be weaker, I put more force behind it. And I was right. He thought I'd use the same strategy again, so the blow got him in the guts and sent him a step back.
"I really underestimated you," he said, and the grin he wore that far disappeared in favor of a stone cold demeanor.
He finally got serious, and his eyes suddenly bled killer intent. That should've been my signal to give up while I was still ahead, but I pushed my luck. We fought in the same manner, with me switching between strategies to create openings. In my state, I wasn't fast enough to get past his defenses, so sacrificing joints by allowing him hits was the only way I could create openings for myself.
It felt like hours, but it was likely only minutes, if that. My left arm took the brunt of his hits, and the last strike finally disabled it. I could still lift it, but I couldn't keep it straight or punch with it anymore. Baldy didn't need to know that, though.
The others watched us with bated breath, in awe at the fact that we were still going. No one made as much as a peep, not even Kishimura. By the look on his face, I expected him to stop the match any moment now, so I needed to hurry. Baldy was in bad shape as well by then, gasping for air and struggling to stand straight, so his defenses weren't as good anymore.
I rushed in and flailed my useless arm at him. He struck it in the shoulder, and I took the opening to punch him. It nearly sent him crashing to the floor, but he stopped at the last moment and looked up at me.
"I won't lose now," he said with conviction. "I'll win, no matter what."
And with that, he dropped his stance and came at me in full swing. He copied my own moves, bombarding me with punches all over. By the time I tried to counter-attack, he retreated, so I followed him to not give him a breather.
"No matter what!" He yelled with desperation when I closed in and pulled back my arm.
We both knew that was the finishing blow if I landed it, and on the back foot as he was, he couldn't dodge it. Victory was within grasp, and this was the best fight yet by far. I had no regrets, not up until the moment when he leaned into me and went for a punch of his own that I also couldn't dodge. Baldy broke the rules, he went for the head, and his strike landed first.
The last thing I felt before losing consciousness were his knuckles digging into my skull, then I was out cold.
Opening my eyes after what felt like only a few moments, I expected to be in a hospital bed. The bright light around me supported that assumption, until I looked around more carefully and noticed that I was standing up on my feet inside of a shining circle.
A/N: Oh man, where do I even start? I have so much to say. I guess let's start with a thank you for reading this first chapter, and let me know your thoughts! And an apology for the long author's note, I promise it won't happen again.
I'm not a professional writer by any means, but I write a lot of original stories and it's getting stressful. So I made this account to write and share some fan fiction for fun. Criticism is a-okay, just know that I likely won't try to improve this fic. I can write much better than this, but then it wouldn't be the fun break that I need anymore.
What else? I'm flying blind without a plan for the first time in a long while, so suggest away! I can't make any promises, I do have a rough idea of what I want to do, but if I like a suggestion enough I might make it happen. Just nothing sexual, I decided to make this fic gen to avoid stress and I'll stick to that. And I also suck at romance and/or sex scenes. Sort of. It takes a lot out of me to make that kind of stuff half-way decent.
As for source material, I'm not sure. I'll flip back and forth between the anime and light novels, so sorry if that creates confusion. I've only watched season 1 of the anime (since that's all there is at this time) and I've only read the first book, so if anything here contradicts canon stuff from later on, I'm sorry once again.
Chapter length will probably be inconsistent, but I'll try to keep them under 5000 words. And the posting schedule will be erratic, I just know it, but I'll try to update at least once a month though ideally I'd like to update every two weeks or so. But we'll see, I'll post chapters as soon as I have them done so it might be faster.
I'm posting this fic on AO3 as well, same title and pen name, so I'll post the first three chapters here all at once to get both of them to the same spot. After that, I'll be posting them in parallel.