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Please Be Normal


Chapter 2

⦕ Psycho ⦖


Hyoudou Issei was not, for a fact, ill.

He was attacked.

Yesterday night, a Fallen Angel had left him with a gaping hole in his chest, bleeding all over. That apparently wasn't enough to kill the unfortunate guy — result of him being a Devil now. He was told to take a day off by his new 'Master', and would be rejoining his Devil posse later in the afternoon.

Which meant he had no business lingering in this educational institution for long, but Speirs supposed he might as well hang by and meet the rest of the Devils — once he ditched the school to get himself a pack of cigarettes and smoke a few rolls. He changed into something more appropriate for someone who looked in their mid twenties. Not to mention wearing a highschooler's uniform to 'blend in' felt so wrong on so many levels, and because he simply did not strike people as a highschooler.

Odd how they allowed the girls' skirts to be shorter than their knees but… eh. Private schools. He had seen stranger regulations, such as men having to show as little skin as possible while the women were thirstier than a fish in a desert. Not much he could do to save that odd world other than letting Eros take it.

After hitting a fast food joint, the Custodian returned to Kuoh Academy riding his dual-sport motorcycle, arriving just as the students were either going home or heading to their clubs. He found it mind boggling that there was no parking space and that he was forced to park his bike at a parking lot a good hundred meters away from said school and walk all the way there, defeating the purpose of having said vehicle.

Damn Japan and their commuting lifestyle. Why wouldn't they want their streets to be filled with noisy bikers with obnoxiously loud exhaust pipes and pollute their clean air?

Either way, he was glad to be able to ride something that wasn't a horse or any creature resembling a horse and for no longer had to indulge in a form of CBT whenever he had to cover a fair bit of distance. The last Universe was… well, to put it bluntly; old fashioned. Living in the early medieval age was not an enjoyable experience as kids on the internet liked to fantasize about. Chances are they'd be dead or be a commoner that had to shit in buckets and be drafted into armies as meatshields. But he supposed it was better than that time he had to serve under the Third Reich because their victory was the only thing that could prevent a thermo-nuclear war.

He didn't agree with their ideology and their extreme view on other races, but it was either that or a complete global collapse. There was a reason not all people were fit to be a Custodian; having good morals sometimes became a hindrance in doing what they must do. Failing to do so would earn them the boot, and the 'gods' of his did not hand out second chances.

He did what needed to be done. That was all there is to it. If ensuring an Austrian man with a funny-looking mustache failed his dreams of being an artist was necessary to save the entire goddamn world, then it was necessary. Not like he wasn't allowed to shoot the guy once the fate of the world was secured.

Speirs was shot, obviously, since he got up and drew and fired a gun in the middle of a meeting of the top brass. Being riddled with bullets wasn't a sensation he'd like to experience more than twice.

Wiping the last recollection of his past misadventures, Speirs found once again he was being stared at by the students as he made his way down the schoolyard. Well, that was to be expected. He was a head taller than their average height and was a foreigner with a growing beard and a pair of sunglasses in an enclosed space. Every bit of his visage screamed he was a tourist, which looked out of place because a school wasn't exactly a popular tourist destination.

Their stares were irritating though, but at least they left him alone this time.

It wasn't until he entered the cozy Occult Research Club clubroom once again that he realized the reason for the stares wasn't due to his looks.

And Rias laid it onto him straight with an outraged yell; "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?! SMOKING AT A SCHOOL GROUND?! ARE YOU MAD?"

"Oh," was his soft, muted reply as he pinched the burning tip of his cigarette, fizzling it dead with his bare fingers. "Right. I forgot. My bad."

"'My bad' my foot!" Rias grinded, hands on hips, thinking how delightful it was to spray him with a plume of fire extinguisher foams.

He unceremoniously tossed the dead cigarette over the trash bin.

"Hey it was an honest mistake— the last world lets you smoke anywhere," Speirs lightly shrugged, taking out a handkerchief out of his jacket's pocket and using it to wipe the soot off his fingers. He brought with him a white plastic bag holding a squarish package. "I lit it up when I was outside the building."

"That's not the issue here."

"You're right, this isn't the issue; Issei is," he nodded firmly, waltzing inside without a shred of guilt.

Of course Speirs wasn't daft. He knew the issue was him lighting a cigarette inside school grounds, but it was hilariously miniscule compared to his universe-scaled objective. Preserving an entire world mattered much more to him than basic rules. Or norms. Or common sense.

Partly because it was nothing to make mountains about to him personally, and partly because he wanted to annoy the Gremory. She seemed a bit stuck-up.

"Wh— Well yes but, I mean—" he walked past Rias, leaving her fumbling with her words as he invited himself to the clubroom. "But— UGH—! I am not dealing with Sona if she ever finds out about this."

"Right, sure."

Not three steps inside and he had already forgotten what made Rias angry originally. He brought out his red and white playing cards-sized box, only to promptly shove it back inside the pocket of his denim jacket because Rias was glaring at his Marlboro pack like he'd brought a bomb.

It was then he was greeted again by the other Devil.

"Hello again, Mr. Speirs," Akeno chimed in, at the moment standing by a counter where she would normally prepare the club's afternoon beverages.

"Hey how ya doin'?" he nodded his head up, returning the pleasantries as he went on to find himself a spot to sit.

Akeno wondered whether he was asking about her day or if that was how his people —wherever he came from— traded greetings.

"Just fine, thanks," she said regardless. "Tea?"

"Yeah nah," Speirs said, unaware that he had caused the confusion to spread due to his casual usage of slang.

"...? Is… that a yes or a no?"

"Hm? Nah, didn't I just say that?" he shook his head, and finally caught sight of other beings inside the room. Must be Rias' cronies, he thought. One was a male student sitting across from him. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Currently sizing him up, studying him.

Even with that pleasant smile on his face, Speirs had seen and dealt with plenty of harmless-looking guys to know the blondie had issues; no one smiles this much to strangers.

But he wasn't here to make enemies. If he was, then he wouldn't bother himself into buying a shortcake.

Sitting next to Mr. Blondie was… a tiny midget…? She looked too small to be a highschooler and too healthy to have health issues and hair too white to be related to either of them.

"Huh. You run a daycare on the side?"

"That's Koneko," Rias said with an edge, making her way to the guest seats. She didn't need to see her Rook's face to tell she was scowling. "She's a first-year student, just so you know."

Speirs looked surprised. His black eyebrows were raised as he glanced back to the petite runt. "Really? No kiddin'?"

"I don't like him," Koneko decidedly stated, her stare blunt and dispassionate.

"Naw don't be like that pygmy; short girls are cute. Occasionally," Speirs nonchalantly said as he set the white box on the table. "Here. Got you people cakes."

"I change my mind," Nevertheless, Koneko's bright amber eyes lit up with joy and she reached out to open the box for a slice. Her eyes lit up further as soon as she learned the white box contained six pieces of cakes with various looks. There was a slice of chocolate cake, blackforest, strawberry shortcake, a cheesecake, and a rainbow cake.

"Oh my, how kind," pipped Akeno from the side. Her brew was just about ready.

"It was on sale."

Rias lowered her sleek red brows. "Did you have to mention that?"

"If only to tick you off," Speirs snorted in amusement as he glanced around, searching for the destined Hero. "So… where's the guy? When's he gonna get here?"

"Resting. As he should," Rias said warily, still skeptical about this otherworlder. "What are you planning to say to him either way? He's already piled with pressure. I don't need you adding more weight on his shoulders."

"Pressure? From what?"

"Let's say he's aware he's new and weak. Telling him he's some sort of a Chosen One won't necessarily have the desired effect on his psyche."

Speirs made an approving face. "Good on him. Self-aware isn't a common trait to have."

For once she agreed. "He lacks confidence. For now at least..."

"Better that that being obnoxious," he replied. "Well… I'm guessing I won't be meeting him anytime soon today— so. Why don't you tell me a little about his attacker…. and the reason why they did that, and why you didn't react as drastically as I thought you would."

"I'd rather not trigger an all out war with the Grigori over this matter," Rias answered diplomatically, although she didn't look all too pleased about it. "They've overstepped their boundaries."

"But then again, so have we."

"Akeno."

"Hm? Yes?" Akeno smoothly feigned ignorance as though she didn't just leak an unnecessary detail to a person Rias had yet to fully trust. "It is how it is. We've always looked for holes to exploit and so do they. He'll sniff it out sooner or later. Might as well cooperate with him now."

That as it may, she should have the final say before every decision her Queen took.

"Even if you don't tell me, I'll just ask them."

"You'll what?"

"Ask them," Speirs shrugged, unsurprised that his answer had offended her. "I don't take sides until I hear both sides of the story and move along accordingly, lady, so don't bother trying to grease my palms or bribe me." A pause. "I'll take them, obviously, but you won't be courting any favor whatsoever from me."

Rias groaned. "Alright. I get it. But you do realize I can no longer tell you everything now that I know you're going to talk to my enemies."

"Enemies? What happened to the non-aggression pact?"

"They. Are. Vultures," Rias hissed. "They plot and spirit away people with potential. Sacred Gear possessors, I mean to say. They play god by deciding who can live and who shouldn't."

"That so?" Speirs nodded, his hands folded. "Why?"

"Because if a Sacred Gear falls into the wrong hands, then it might cause a global catastrophe. Noble on paper but there's plenty of people they've murdered. I don't doubt they're just jealous towards humans."

"Why?'

"Both of them fell, but their 'god' favored humans. Sacred Gears are God's Gifts, essentially, and Fallen Angels are prone to jealousy and greed."

"Uh huh…" Speirs muttered, leaning back against his comfy seat. "Is that what you believe in, or is that a fact?"

Rias frowned. "You doubt me?"

"I have to be a doubter. My profession demands I don't just trust people willy-nilly," he said simply, scratching his trimmed beard. "I've met Fallen Angels, Devils and Angels alike. Not every universe has one, but they're not exactly rare… and they always bicker with one another. One thing in common is they never see themselves in the wrong and that whatever they do is always justified — even if they've gone way overboard. It's all about perspective in the end, and being unbiased is what I have to do in order to ensure I never take the wrong side.."

That sent Rias into a contemplative state.

"What if they kill and torture for the sake of pleasure?" Akeno then asked. "Not all of them, sure, but some of them certainly do… Guiltlessly."

"Are all Devils good?" He replied, and was met with a contemplative sort of silence. The kind that said to him they were starting to see his point. "Yeah. Exactly. It depends on who's in charge and how much power they have rather than what their cronies do. My first concern is the entirety of this universe… your universe. Not this town, not this country or this continent. BUT. If you so believe that wiping an entire race would fix all of your problems then…"

He paused for a moment as tension rifled the air.

"...Then… what?" Kiba finally asked.

"Then I'll consider it," Speirs said. "Wiping out a single species is not unheard of, although extremely rare. Obviously I'll have to see them for myself. See if they're really that unsalvageable."

Rias had the sense to dread that noncommittal statement. "You'll… wipe them out?"

"Yeah. Them and their subspecies. Mixed breed and all that. If the root goes, the entire tree and its fruits go."

"That's… rather drastic, don't you think?" Rias said, unsettled.

"For you," he told her straight. "Not to the Auditors. Never the few, only the many."

Rias worriedly glanced at Akeno.

"Including their subspecies?"

"My employers want it to be very thorough. They find pleasure in it. Fucked up as it may sound to you. If you've learned your Biology I shouldn't have to explain to you about genotypes. And your reaction tells me your friend here is a subspecies, hm? Then let's both pray it won't ever come to that conclusion."

.

.

.

Rias informed Speirs of this fact once she decided he had enough of her trust. Although the terms 'Master' and 'Servant' didn't sit right with 'The Custodian' for many reasons unless it was just a bedroom thing, he ultimately wasn't that bothered. Unsurprised, rather. This Universe was evidently one that was controlled by power. Might did not make; it was the only thing.

Not his first time. He considered it a good thing, rather, as that extremely simplified plenty of things. In his old world, power resided in what society believed it resided in. Money, connections, knowledge, the amount of men in their army — a grand illusion. A trick of the shadow where a small man could cast a giant one with the right positioning.

Here, power is power.

Devils worshiped it like it was their god.

The reason Devils resourced to Humans and brought them as one of their own was due to their low birth-rate. A curse from God, according to them. Might be true, might be false — either way, not his problem. His problem was getting out of the school, which the Devils had been kind enough to handle for him, even going so far as wiping the whole student bodies as it was —as per Rias' words— as easy as pie.

But he had heard enough of Rias gushing about Issei's untapped potential, how she'd nurture him to be a strong man and all the deeds he could do in the future. Using hunger as a convenient reason, Speirs excused himself out of their headquarters. They didn't buy it, but he couldn't give shit. He had gotten the information he needed and had determined the Devils' stance regarding their magnificent Chosen One. Their so-called nemeses were next in his list.

Fallen Angels and Angels.

Two of the Three Major Factions that fought in the Great War.

Although Fallen Angels appeared to be their recurring threats. When he asked Rias as to why these Fallen Angels were left roaming under her territory, Rias reasoned that it was due to the White Peace, and she'd rather not risk a confrontation that might instigate a war.

Though he showed no reaction other than a silent, understanding nod, it was at that moment Speirs knew; the Devil, albeit looking like she'd have violins and strings playing melancholically as her backing soundtrack, wasn't yet tainted with political intrigues.

Good for her. As a person.

As an Overseer? Not so much.

But he kept it to himself on the off chance that the supernatural critters of this world truly did value their pact, and Issei's injury was a complete accident. He couldn't get rash; his job demanded him to not jump into conclusion. Billions of lives were at stakes. Again.

So Speirs headed straight home to prepare for tomorrow — once he visited the Watamelon Daycare to pick up a nosey little girl.

"Kunou-chan! Your guardian's here!"

"Jii-tan!"

"Mhmm. Yep. How was your —oof!" he winced as this little cretin jumped onto his chest like a gremlin, even if Kunou was anything but. Glossy golden hair tied to a neat ponytail, bright amber eyes, and lithe figure even for a five year old brat.

"I wanna go home."

That was to be expected. "Yes, let's."

Enforced to cradle her around as she didn't seem keen on letting go of him, he bade the blonde caretaker goodbye, and she smiled kindly in return, wishing the odd pair safe travels.

"That has to be the softest voice I've ever heard from a woman," he said aloud, sharing the thoughts with the pint-sized runt riding on his shoulders.

"Mhmm~ Watame-san is very fluffy. Fluffier than Kunou. Walk to your bike faster!" she suddenly demanded, "It's uncomfortable outside!"

Of course it would be for her. She had to hide her pair of fox tails and ears.

That Universe was by no means a place for a child like her; there weren't any. Constant nonsensical wars, dumbed down people—courtesy of Chaos Himself, and nukes thrown around like they were fireworks? Yeah right. He gave that world to Gaea in under a week, but something unexpected happened and that something was Speirs developing a conscience and breaking his personal rule; never take anything with him.

Attachments rarely last long for someone with a job like his, especially when the other party couldn't retain their memories once he completed his work. Becoming emotional sounded to him like an invitation to depression once he had to leave.

He shouldn't have stayed during judgment day. It wasn't mandatory for Custodians. But he saw it only right; his decision made him responsible for the losses. And as he had learned from a wise man during his journey; "If you would take a man's life, you owe it to him to look into his eyes and hear his final words. And if you cannot bear to do that, then perhaps the man does not deserve to die."

So Speirs stayed. Stayed through the demise of 20 Universes and counting.

But it was during that moment this little midget came to him, all confused and the like, wondering why everything around her was turning green and why the vines were creeping so unnaturally quickly. Her brain was hardly developed enough to understand or even grasp a sense of imminent doom.

Four years. She was only that old. Younger than his own baby sister before she got crushed under all that rubble. Wars; to him, hardly ever made enough sense to justify the civilian deaths.

So perhaps because he saw her in this little fox that Speirs took her with him. Not permanently, however. Should this Universe be proven good, better, welcoming to little runts like her, then he should leave her here for her sake. And perhaps, his as well.

But until that time—

"You wanna hit the beach?"

"Eh? Right now?"

"Yeah."

"Can I show my tails?"

"No."

"Then no!" she declared, needing no further thoughts or accepting no sort of bribes, "let's go home! It's stuffy!"


Break


The moment he opened his apartment door, closed it behind him, Kunou immediately poofed into her true form. Her animalistic physical traits sprouted back onto their places. A pair of fuzzy golden ears flicked and two lustrous golden tails swayed in the wind as the little fox darted down the corridor, leaving her small red backpack and shoes scattered all over the foyer.

"Hey young lady—!"

"Toilet!"

'This brat…' Speirs sighed and grunted. He thought she would be as dumb if not dumber like the rest of her people in that dumb Universe, but she caught on rather quickly about things. She even now knew how to deflect his scolding with a sensible reply before it could happen.

Oh well.

He tidied her shoes, picked up her bag, and waltzed in his house. A simple 2 story house that was lavish for its size. One master bedroom for him and two guest bedrooms for her if this 'mission' took long enough for her to develop the bravery to sleep on her own. And if he ever felt lonely and wanted to bring a friend over. That was of his age.

Right, the main thing that bothered him from his first day here was that he would be hanging around a bunch of teenagers that thought they knew what they were doing. Even during his medieval run, he at least had a company of hedge knights and a few bandit friends. Here, he appeared to be stuck with teens.

Teens and a rowdy kid.

Groaning, cursing his luck, Speirs made his way over to the kitchen, grabbed himself a bottle of whiskey and headed straight to the sofas to stretch his legs and rest his mind and drink his way until tomorrow. Or at least evening, since he had to prepare dinner for the little brat.

And by preparing, he meant to order food. Rice bowls should be good. She'd eat anything with meat in them while Speirs himself had eaten bugs and rats to survive. Kunou had as well, actually.

He heard the flushing from the bathroom and the door swinging open, followed by another series of rapid yet light footsteps as Kunou, once again, rushed towards him to join his lounging session by interrupting it by jumping onto his lap, and sat on it like a cat would, and stared at him.

"Hello."

"It's you again."

"It's Kunou again," she beamed a smile that could melt the blackest of hearts, his included. "Did you miss me?"

"I sorta don't," he joked, earning himself a petulant scowling. "How's your day been? What did you learn in there anyway?"

"Numbers and stuff," Kunou shrugged. "I made a lot of friends."

"How many did you make?"

"More than this many!" she held up all her fingers, looking all smug.

"Wow. That's a lot of friends. I didn't even make a single one today," he said, monotone, taking a big gulp of his alcoholic drink that wouldn't do shit on him no matter how many he'd drank other than making him a little bit tipsy.

"That's okay, Jii-san, you'll make one someday."

He allowed a smirk. "I sure hope so," he said, "What do you want to eat tonight? Fish? Chicken? Sheep?"

"No! No sheep! They're fluffy!" she suddenly exclaimed, her face expressing sheer terror in a second, then a sweet smile the next. "Let's have chicken instead. They look silly anyway."

A sinister way to decide which creature deserved to be eaten, but Speirs wasn't going to argue with a kid. "Alright. Chicken it is."

"How was your school?" Kunou asked eagerly, her tails swaying side to side just as eager as her.

"It sucked. I quit."

Her tails stopped swaying. "Whaaaat?"

"Mhmm. I don't belong there. I'm too old."

She frowned sadly. "You can come with Kunou tomorrow to the daycare. Everyone is welcome there. Watame-san said so."

"Still too old," Speirs said, this time with a chuckle. Bless this kid. "That's fine. You go on back there tomorrow and have double the fun to make up for me."

"Where will you go?"

"Work."

"Oooh… sounds boring. Okay! Kunou will make sure she plays twice as hard tomorrow!"

"Just don't cause too much trouble."

"I won't!"

"And now get off me."

"Nuh-uh!"

"You need to shower — you stink of sweat."

"Nuh-uh I don't!" she wailed, then sniffed her baby pink shirt. "...Oh I kinda does..."

"Now shoo. Take a bath. You'll get flies all over ya."

That made her scamper off immediately to their bedroom to rummage her clothes from the cardboard boxes. He didn't have time yet to unpack his things, and he wasn't in the mood to do it right now or tonight. Still not enough information regarding the Fallen Angel and their whole Watchers of humanity. Stalkers, more like.

He took another swig. Let the liquid burn his throat as it passed through.

Scratching his bearded jaw, Speirs perked up at the sound of his doorbell. The crisp melody repeated again, and he left his couch with great reluctance and a groan, a bottle of whiskey still in hand. Likely a neighbor wanting to welcome him or some menial pleasantries. He'd rather be avoided and gossiped than pestered.

He peered through the door's peephole, and the fish eye lens it had caused the suited man looked chubbier than he was. One thing to note, however, was that he wasn't alone. A girl in a strange black dress was with him. Neither of the two looked native.

He pressed on his intercom. "What."

A sour tone. If they didn't immediately scram or notice his lack of willingness to socialize with weirdos, then he might consider calling the police to get these bozos off his porch.

Either they didn't or they didn't care, as the burly man with a fedora walked up to the door and spoke, "Are you associated with Rias Gremory?"

"No. Go away."

"We'd like to have a word with you, sir."

"Denied. Now sod off."

"Unfortunately that was not a request." With a grin and the man held out a white gloved hand, and— did those lights just gather by his hand like it was being vacuumed?

A pale blue lightspear pierced right through the wooden door, left a gaping hole in it, and stopped at his abs. Speirs stared at the odd object for a moment, realizing it was indeed a spear, but with neon-like material. Dohnaseek also stared at his lightspear, confused that it was halted instead of fully penetrating through.

"This motherfucker."

Learning and confirming this outdated bastard had just attempted to take his life, Speirs immediately saw red. He gripped and wrenched the lightspear with force, smashing Dohnaseek's face against his door. As he heard scrambling outside, he opened his door that was now in need of a lot of duct tape, yanked the fucker's ugly tie while he was holding his face in pain, positioned him right, and slammed the glass of whiskey on his head, shattering the bottle completely and wasting a lot of good liquor, before slamming door against his head, repeatedly smashing him between the door and the frame until both started to bend.

"Jesus fucking Christ—" Mittelt immediately lost all her composure as she registered her compatriot's body going limp, his head gradually turning redder and redder from the blood. "Y-y0-you told me he's normal!"

Speirs let go off the man's head and allowed him to fall to the ground, and for the door to fully swing open. It revealed an angry six-foot-two of a bearded young man with blood all over his shirt, and he didn't look the slightest bit remorseful or bothered that he had just murdered a living being with sheer brutality.

"Run and I'll track you down, or come inside and explain everything," he said, his low-baritone sending shivers down her spine.

The fact that he could kill a Fallen Angel with his bare hands did not go unnoticed by her, and she immediately thought he was freakishly so powerful that neither she nor Dohnaseek could have detected his power level. It must be so ridiculously off the chart, or he was knowledgable enough to hide his strenght.

In truth, none of that bullshit ever happened. Speirs didn't 'lock away' Dohnaseek's power or anything that fancy. He simply had the authority no matter what Universe he was placed in, to perform violence to anyone, no matter how powerful they were.

"E-erm…" Mittelt watched in mute, completely paralyzed from the shock, feeling her legs giving out as she slumped to the floor. The fact that Dohnaseek's lightspear that was sticking through the door had just vanished into thin air didn't help her regain any sliver of her composure. "Sh-shit I— wait, don't kill me… I er… I-I can explain…"

"In, brat," he seethed, his right hand still holding the smashed bottle, dropping crimson droplets. "Do or think of anything funny and I'll run your entire arm through a blender, drink it, shit it out and use it to fucking smother you to death."

'Ohmygod he's a psycho!' If it was possible for her face to be paler, then she would be bleach white.

Not looking away from this terrified little runt that reminded him of a constantly trembling chihuahua, except it was dressed in ugly black dress, Speirs dug through his pocket and took out his phone. He went through his contact list, and sought for a specific name that had never failed in providing him a specific service. He simply saved her number as an "N".

It connected in a flash.

"Speirs," he began, glancing at the body under his foot. "I'd like to make a donation," and then he glared at her, seizing her up. "Potentially a minor one as well."

Mittelt wished she stayed up late that day.


To be continued…


Initially I wanted to spare Dohnaseek, but I can't come up with a story for him that I haven't used already so he's the first to kick the bucket as per dxd fic tradition. ripbozo

Mittelt, Ya dun goofed son

So. Any guesses who this 'N' is?
I'll give you a hint, it's a she, and she's a smug, sarcastic, sadistic, sickeningly seductive, smoky-voiced, sun-hating god.
Oh, she crawls too.

i think that last clue has made it obvious enough