How d'ya do?

Back again with yet another installment! Some news, first, though.

I made a pretty significant change to Chapter 3 that I hope will help with making the overall story a better read. The reason I mention this specifically is because the change deals with the MC's backstory –which plays into this chapter– and provides a different angle to his motivations as a whole. For returning readers, I would advise that you take a quick look at that before reading this chapter and let me know how well or not you think it works.

I also finally took the time to set up a Discord server for the story. Still a bit unsure if it'll be worth having, but it's a new avenue for discussion, so it's worth a try at least. Feel free to prove how useful it can be. The link will be posted in my profile.

Alright, now, let's begin.

Disclaimer: I do not own High School DxD, nor do I own Type Moon, any of its intellectual properties, or any other property used in this work.

Published: May 18, 2023

Updated: TBD

…

Chapter 16 – Coming Days

At the Hyoudou residence, Issei sat with his parents at the dinner table, ready to enjoy his mother's specially prepared welcome back meal. With the previous day's rating game and subsequent party now behind them, he and the others of the ORC could get back to their normal lives. And Issei could think of no better way to celebrate than with the dish plated before him; a kansai-style sukiyaki with all the traditional trimmings.

As a Devil, Issei was now able to smell it all the way from his upstairs bedroom, and his mouth watered in anticipation the moment he recognized it. So much so that he had trouble keeping the drool contained when he raced down to the dining room.

"Itadakimasu." The family of three gave thanks and split their chopsticks.

Upon taking his first bite of the marbled yagyu beef, Issei almost melted into his chair.

"Mm~ I missed this~" he groaned. Even Akeno's impressive cooking couldn't compare to the masterpiece that was Miki Hyoudou's Sukiyaki Special. (1)

"Thank you, Ise~" his mom tittered in delight. "So, Ise, what all did your group do up in the mountains?"

"Hm? Oh, you know, summer camp stuff. Swimming, hiking, camping, trust exercises, we had a pretty good time up there."

"But so early in the year? I know I asked this earlier, but summer break isn't for another two months, right?" she asked while adding the onions and mushrooms to the hot pot.

Issei shrugged. "Buchou just didn't want to miss out. No telling when she'd get another chance."

The cover story that Rias had instructed Issei to give his parents was simple enough: Her family had bought her a reservation for a mountain retreat in eastern Hokkaido, but her schedule suddenly got shuffled around (due to the rating game) and the limited-time offer would expire if they waited too long.

"Well, Mr. Party-pants, we're happy that you had fun. Just make sure that you can catch up on the school work this time, though. I don't want a repeat of last year," his dad, Gorou, reminded.

"Yes, papa bear," Issei whimsically replied. Rias had said that they were covered, but he appreciated his dad's concern.

It was good to be home, especially with what he'd come to learn after the game.

Originally, the ensuing party was meant to serve as both a celebratory banquet for Riser's victory in the rating game and a wedding reception for the marriage. Riser losing the game had shot all that down, though, and since the venue was already arranged and invitations were sent out, it was too late to cancel. In order to keep from wasting resources and losing face, both heads of the Gremory and Phenex clans decided to just keep the event going, albeit with some 'minor' changes to the overall theme.

The very hasty removal of wedding-themed decorations from the banquet hall did not go unnoticed.

By itself, the party wasn't all bad; the food was good and the service was nice, but there were a lot more snooty nobles and upper-class Devils than Issei was comfortable being around. Riser himself was a no-show, which was perfectly fine by him, and there weren't many other nobles that tried to talk to him. Issei, despite his newfound stardom, found a few of these people giving him the stink-eye in return for the mother of all bad beats he gave them. Most of his time was spent with Rias and her biological family, anyway, so it was fine.

Zeoticus, Rias' father, was already quite tipsy by the time he greeted Issei, which led to some very off-the-cuff remarks such as how plain the boy looked up close. Both Rias and her mother, Venelana, apologized profusely for his behavior, stating that the patriarch was not normally so brusque. That was fair; Issei's own dad tended to speak uninhibited after a bit of sake.

Issei was most surprised, however, once he got a good look at Sirzechs. He could swear up and down that the man was a gender-bent carbon copy of Rias; same eyes, hair, skin, face, nothing was left to doubt that the two were directly related. The crimson-haired Demon Lord gave his own hearty congratulations along with a hard pat on the back, praising Issei's simple yet brilliant method of bringing down the Phenex's rising star.

That was about the time that the conversation went sideways.

–––––

"You don't remember?" a confused Zeoticus asked.

"He asked me what happened once we came back," Rias explained. "When I told him, he didn't understand, so I showed him the footage, but… He had no recollection of any of that."

Issei, for his part, shrugged and shook his head. The Gremory patriarch set his champagne on the table, eyes squinting as he focused on his daughter's servant. "So if you don't remember, then you wouldn't know if it was the Boosted Gear that powered you up, correct?"

"I'm pretty sure it wasn't. I didn't really get the chance to use it, before the bastard blitzed us and started caving my face in," the Pawn answered.

Confusion and concern went around the table and back again until Venelana addressed the question on everyone's minds.

"If you were already promoted, and you didn't use the Boosted Gear, where did that burst of strength come from?"

"I can answer that."

A green light flashed atop Issei's arm, and the source of the disembodied voice took its physical form.

"Whoa, wh- Ddraig? Since when could you talk out loud?" Issei sputtered.

"I've always been able to do this, hatchling, you just never asked. Not all conversations should be kept in your head," the Welsh dragon teased before addressing the others present. "Greetings, Devils of Gremory. Hello, Sirzechs. Been a long time, hasn't it?"

"Yes… about three centuries, by my last count." Issei could hear a slight edge in the Demon King's voice. "So, Ddraig, will you help us understand what happened with young Issei?"

"Yes, but you won't like the answer," the imprisoned dragon answered bluntly. "The hatchling basically went into Juggernaut Drive."

The women in attendance gasped, and Zeoticus shot to his feet, sobering up almost immediately.

"What?! That can't be right, he didn't transform!" he said intensely, ignoring the looks directed to him from other chatting groups.

"Well, I should clarify by saying that it was a very premature awakening; his master's seals on his Evil Pieces actually restrained the release enough to keep it from properly manifesting. Because of that, his raw strength and endurance were the only things affected by it."

"But how?" Rias looked between the Gear and its wielder. "We didn't even work with the Boosted Gear very much on the training trip. How could it have triggered if he hasn't…"

"Uhh, excuse me…" Issei asked tentatively, "what's Juggernaut Drive?"

"It's a dangerously powerful ability of the Boosted Gear, Issei," Sirzechs explained. "It's triggered by a state of emotional turmoil that trades the wielder's sanity and life for a complete release of the Gear's power. But in the process, that wielder becomes unable to distinguish friend from foe."

"They turn into an indiscriminate killing machine, and only their death can stop it. The entire Marchosias line was wiped out during one such rampage," Zeoticus ominously continued, never taking his eyes off of the gauntlet as he spoke. "You said that this was a premature awakening, though, yes, Lord Ddraig?"

"Incomplete, but it happened nonetheless. What concerns me is how quickly he slipped into it. To say the least, it was unnaturally fast, even for other times it's been activated by previous hosts of mine. If the hatchling were to relapse, I can tell you right now that the remaining seals would not be able to stop it."

A terribly uncomfortable silence loomed over the table as Ddraig's warning set in.

"Then why can't I remember any of it?" Issei asked.

"I'm not sure," Ddraig answered simply. "My previous hosts were able to recollect everything that happened in a Juggernaut Drive awakening. Passengers in their own bodies as they were, they were fully aware of their surroundings. With you… I have a suspicion, but I'll have to check."

Issei's eyes widened slightly, wondering if this was somehow connected to his other problem. He glanced to Rias, who must have been thinking the exact same thing. The worry in her eyes returned two-fold as she turned to her elder brother. Sirzechs, meanwhile, was one step ahead of them.

"Rias informed me about your situation, Issei, but this could complicate things. I'll tell both of my Bishops to prioritize a meeting with you so we can get to the bottom of this."

"That would be best, Demon King Lucifer," Ddraig leveled. "This is new territory for all of us. I would advise caution going forward, but the hatchling might not have that luxury. The White One has come awake."

–––––

Issei didn't know what 'The White One' was supposed to mean, but it had the older Devils sweating, even Sirzechs. Throughout the remainder of the party, the smiles from Rias' family were hollow, and fell just as soon as they weren't talking with anyone. It was either a nickname or a code name for something really bad, but what?

Just then, the doorbell rang, bringing the Hyoudou family's attention off of their meal.

"Ugh, at this hour?" Issei's dad grumbled. "If it's another vacuum salesman, I swear I'm calling corporate!"

"I'll get it, don't worry," Issei volunteered. Leaving an unfinished dinner was one of his dad's biggest pet peeves, especially when it was his own. "I'll just give them the old 'sorry, come back later' routine."

"Hurry back, or your father might steal some of your portion," his mom warned. Jokingly, his father began to ease his chopsticks closer to Issei's platter.

"He'd better freakin' not!"

Readjusting his t-shirt and shorts to look presentable, Issei prepared his response he'd given to strangers at the door countless times. His eyes were half-closed when he opened the door and began speaking.

"Hello, good evening. I'm sorry, but my father's not here tonight, you'll have to come back to–" he stopped once he saw who was actually standing under the porch eaves. "B-Buchou?"

"Hi, Ise~ Wonderful weather tonight, isn't it?"

Instead of a salesman for an overpriced vacuum cleaner, his club president and master greeted him, clothed in a summer dress that looked absolutely amazing on her already stunning figure.

"What's going on? What're you doing here? Uh, not… not that I'm unhappy to see you, but…" he paused when he noticed the suitcase behind her and the bag slung over her shoulder, "what's with all this?"

"Can't you tell, Ise? I'm moving in!"

Issei said nothing at first, not quite believing what he'd just heard.

"Huh?"

"It's sudden, I know, and I'm sorry for springing this on you out of the blue," she said, her tone turning somber. "My brother is really concerned about Ddraig's warning, and he wants to avoid another accidental Juggernaut Drive. My father suggested that I keep you more closely monitored, but I didn't want to separate you from your family so… I reached a compromise with them." She glanced uneasily from one door frame to another, then bowed her head in apology.

"Again, I'm sorry, but I promise I'll make it up to you and your family."

He would have said something in reply if he could come up with anything. The most that came out was a few choppy utterances.

"Wait, so… you…"

"And speaking of which; as soon as my family finishes renovating your house to accommodate another ten or so people, everyone else in the ORC will be moving in, too!" Rias continued, back to smiling brightly. "So the Hyoudous will be like our host family!"

At that point, Issei wasn't even listening. The whole left hemisphere of his brain had short-circuited due to her smile, causing all of his motor functions to seize, including his eyelids.

Buchou and the others were moving in with him?

…

Buchou was moving in…

…

Buchou was moving i–

"Issei…" he heard his dad mutter from the living room. Regaining control of himself, he looked behind him to witness both of his parents staring in awe at the scene playing out at their door. For whatever reason, they looked like they were ready to cry. His dad strode toward Issei and tightly grasped his shoulders.

"Son, when were you going tell us that you were seeing a foreign girl? Or better yet, why didn't you tell us that you found an actual girl?! Do you know what this means?!"

"Uhhh… I… I– "

"It means that your mother just won the bet she and I had on when you'd get yourself a real girlfriend! I was convinced that it wouldn't happen until after you graduated high school!"

"If she's already moving in with you, then grandchildren won't be very far behind! And now, I get dibs on naming the first one! YES!" While his mom began cheering and bouncing on her feet wildly, his dad knelt down, tears in his eyes as he pounded the floor with his fist in dramatic lament.

"Two years, Issei! Why couldn't you just be a hopeless pervert for two more years?! Dammit!"

Issei had no answer to any of this. His jaw had come off its hinges and his vocal cords ceased all function. Rias and Ddraig, meanwhile, took great amusement by the current predicament, evidenced by the quiet laugh chiming like a bell behind Issei and the raucous howl echoing within his head, respectively.

"Ehehe~ Your family is… quite something, isn't it, Ise?"

"BAAHAHAHAHA! Yo-hahah! Your parents were placing bets on your future with ma-he-he-hetes?! AAH-HAHAHAHAHAHA! THAT IS PRICELESS!"

Issei would later remember this moment as the first time that he truly wanted to dig his own grave and throw himself into it.

As the sun crested over the horizon to signify the coming Friday morning, Connor blinked awake, stricken slightly by the intrusive rays blasting him in the face from the window in his room. Groaning, he rolled over to try and squeeze a little more sleep out of the night, only for his slowly waking mind to catch up with something.

Sunrise in late May was usually around 4:30 A.M., at least an hour before his first alarm would go off. He always kept his bedroom blinds closed in the mornings to prevent being awakened this way. Today, though, his blinds were wide open, and he'd made sure they were closed last night.

'Did Caster come in here and open them?'

Upon returning home Wednesday, Connor and Caster picked up their discussion from that morning to finish filling in the blanks for the newly minted Master. Caster explained the ins and outs of the 'class system' he had mentioned, as well as the unique abilities of each class that could differ between summoned entities.

In his case, it was something called Territory Creation, which allowed for the utmost ease in constructing Bounded Fields. This, in addition to the Primordial runes, made him as capable of a Caster as he would be with any other potential class he could have been.

Connor had asked if there were some things that Caster would be willing to show him later, and the spirit just laughed. He claimed that he found magecraft to be quite boring, and jokingly chastised Connor about not summoning him in his preferred class. He wouldn't say exactly what that class was, though, choosing instead to remain cryptic about potential clues to his identity.

Whoever the hell he truly was, he took great amusement from pulling Connor's leg.

The next evening after school, Connor had shared his side of the story, starting briefly with his own personal history and how he got to Kuoh. He then gave his account of the fight with Dohnaseek –which really caught Caster's attention– and subsequently getting entangled in the Grigori's affairs, such as meeting with Asia.

Caster had stopped him at that point to ask more about Asia and her involvement. Connor answered by explaining his theory about her Sacred Gear and how she'd been treated by everyone she knew because of it. Regarding her exile, the most sensible conclusion they came to was that the Devil had someone on the inside who bypassed security measures and let him in willingly, as did the Grigori with their agents. Nothing else could explain how a Devil managed to get in without anyone noticing, or how the Fallen had gotten her out of sight so quickly.

From there, Connor then roughly explained the course of events, from his fight with the Devil chasing Asia, to the battle with the undead monster in the factory, all the way up to trading the beast bones for the research material.

That was the point that the mood in the room shifted. Caster hadn't seemed very pleased with learning what he did about Connor's dilemma. Again, he stopped Connor only a couple more times to ask some questions, but remained silent and stoic for the most part. By the time Connor had bid him good night, he just sat quietly at the table with one hand crossed over the other, barely even acknowledging that Connor was leaving.

Something was up, and it looked like Caster had something he wanted to say this morning.

Yawning, Connor rocked up and out of the futon. After a quick popping session of all the joints in his arms and hands, he exited the bedroom to look for the Heroic Spirit. He didn't have to look far, since Caster was seated on the couch and leaning forward with his fingers laced together.

"Hey, Caster,– " he stopped mid-sentence when the spirit snapped to look at him, a different kind of glimmer in his eye. "Umm,… Caster, what's up?"

"A lot of things, but right now, it's what I plan on doing with you." the man replied evenly.

It took a good moment for that to register. "Say again?"

"You heard me. I was considering it when you first asked me, but now I see that it's necessary. We're gonna get you in shape and we need a bigger place to do that, so I went looking for somewhere last night that'd fit the bill. Found this big clearing on the north edge of town, plenty of space to work with. You'll be spending a lot less time in this rinky-dink cubbyhole of yours for a while." The entire time he talked, Caster hadn't taken his eyes off of him.

"Wait, what?"

"And of course, the little lady'll be coming with us to help. With her power on hand to cut down your recovery time, we can have you keep going for even longer."

"Wait a minute, hold on!" Connor raised his voice.

Caster paused and regarded him more flatly now. "What is it, kid? Don't act like you have no idea why I'm telling you this."

Before Connor could even answer, Caster had vanished from the couch and reappeared directly in front of him faster than he could follow. The spirit's red eyes bored right into Connor's hazel, and his right hand applied a powerful grip to the boy's left shoulder.

"That was rhetorical. I'm gonna lay this out really simply for you: You suck, as a magus. Too often in the last few weeks, you've come close to getting yourself killed because you weren't ready for whatever came your way. What's most shocking to me is the fact that you somehow survived this long with such a piss-poor set of skills as you currently have. I get that you couldn't have known that you'd be drawn into a centuries-long cold war and whatnot, but that's not an excuse to not give yourself a realistic chance! Especially not with the enemies you've more or less made for yourself since being here."

Connor struggled to find the right words in rebuttal. "I– Look, I haven't had anybody that I can reliably go to for help! The Devils are a no-go, the Grigori already have me by the hair, and my grandpa didn't have any kind of favors I could cash in with other magi he knew." Not that it was a good idea to call them, even if he could. They would just want to cut him open and study his altered circuitry.

"That, right there, is exactly the issue. You worry so much about standing out, you hold yourself back and squander your own potential. It doesn't matter who you ask for help if you're not even willing to look for someone. You have the resources right here," the man poked Connor's forehead, "but you're not using them! Do you ever look back and wonder how differently events would've played out if you were stronger?"

"Of course I do, what kind of que–"

"Then why're you wasting time by not trying to get that way?!" Caster continued, forcing Connor quiet. "There should be no reason at all! I know it, you know it, and I'm pretty sure your old timer knew it, too. Hell, I think he wanted you to try. With all the stuff he left behind, he might've known what it is you needed in order to survive if he wasn't there to teach you himself."

Connor glanced down, wondering if Caster was just reading into the family issues too much.

It went without saying that Donovan Lochlainn wanted a legacy for someone to carry on. Every magus did. The problem was that the old man had put too much on his plate and didn't finish it all, even when he could very well have prioritized some of his works and completed them. He was also irrationally stubborn; unwilling to accept any kind aid or correction while his body and mind fell apart under the self-induced stress of starting over. His tutelage of Connor suffered as a result.

Magecraft steadily became far less appealing for Connor than it had at the age of four and, after his grandfather's death, it just became a matter of convenience and inveterate interest being more intrinsic than honoring tradition.

"Hey, eyes up." Caster shook him slightly, snapping him back to the present. "You need to get a grip of yourself and your situation. I'm obligated by our contract to serve you in whatever way I can, and damn if I don't see kicking your ass into shape as the best way to do that right now! But, I can't do that if you won't let me. Help me to help you, kid! Otherwise, you can count on an early grave!"

Somewhere deep down, a part of him knew this to be true, no matter how much he chose to ignore it. Again, Connor's gaze drifted downward.

Caster was right; if Connor was a more capable magus, he might not have gotten trapped in this whole situation. Even if that couldn't have been avoided, he wouldn't have needed saving by Jin, had he been better prepared for Asia's stalker. If he had hatched a better plan than simply trying to outmuscle the undead monster, Ruruko wouldn't be in whatever condition she was currently.

His life over the last month or so had been one stupid mistake after another; Issei's murder, the Grigori, the Devils, Asia's stalker, the beast, Valerie and the Graal, and Connor only had himself to blame for sticking his nose in any of that!

With every mistake he made, people kept paying for it –be it himself or someone he knew– all because he was too careless about handling things the way he should have. At what point would another mistake cost him everything?

It was only by charitable negotiations and dumb luck that he still drew breath as a free man, and even that was highly debatable. For the moment, it was more like he was on a leash that slowly grew longer, but never truly released him. And it probably never would. With Valerie in the Grigori's custody, Connor would have to go through them in order to learn anything more about the Graal and his connection to it.

The Master and Servant stood in place for a long time, the latter waiting patiently for the former to answer him. Finally, Connor slowly nodded.

"Okay… I get it… I need to get my act together if I want to… to not just run away all the time." Enough was enough. It was too physically and emotionally tiring to keep ignoring the problem.

"That's where we are with things, yeah. So, are you in?"

"Yeah, I'm… Something has to change." Connor looked up to meet Caster's gaze again. "If it has to be me, then yes. I'll do it."

"Good, because I'd hate to be bound to a spineless fool," the Heroic Spirit remarked as he released his grip and clapped the younger magus' shoulder.

It was painfully obvious to see that his current opinion of the boy was not much higher than 'spineless fool,' which made it hard for Connor to look him in the eye.

"So, uhh… what'd you have in mind for this… training?" he asked, in need of a change of subject.

"Well, let me put it this way." Caster said, a smile returning to his face." When I was your age, I was a strapping ladies' man of a boy with a head filled up to the eyeballs with lofty dreams and ambitions. A star that wanted to shine brighter than any other in the sky and didn't care if it died trying. In you, I see a star that won't shine any brighter than it does already, but we can get that taken care of really quickly."

The spirit then gave a sharp poke to Connor's sternum.

"No matter how we end up getting to that point, I'm not closing out this contract between us until I'm sure you're somebody that I can proudly call 'my Master.'" His lips then spread into a rather unnerving grin. "So get ready, kid; your last peaceful days are coming up, and when they're over, you'll experience the hell that comes from learning under the Sage of the Forest."

Connor felt simultaneously awed and anxious by the prospect. "Sounds like fun… Should I call my mom first and let her know that I love her?"

Caster's grin widened even further. "Probably."

Elsewhere, on the other side of the world, a different sort of deal was taking place. Beneath a blanket of stars in the clear night sky, a young man in dirty exorcist garb slowly paced back and forth in a narrow alley, his left hand up to his ear as he made a call.

"C'mon, pick up already," the man grumbled until he heard the other side of the line connect. "Ah! Ding-a-ling~ Freed here! Got your precious fragment in record time, and boy, is she beautiful! You sure I can't keep her?" He looked down to admire the sword grasped in his right hand. A truly splendid blade of incredible power, the owners would surely lose their minds over its disappearance.

And this was just the first one.

"Yeah-hahaha, what did I tell ya?" he chortled. "You put me on a job, and I'll have it done faster than you can say 'Holy shit!'… Yeah… Where at?… Alright, cool. Gotta do some cleaning up here first. I'm trying my best these days not to litter. Toodles~"

Clicking his phone to sleep and pocketing it, he let a long dramatic sigh.

"Okay, old man, I gotta get going. It's been fun, though, right?"

Looking behind him, 'Freed' took note of the robed priest no longer twitching but still gurgling as he continued to drown in his own blood while he remained on the ground. He'd clung to life for longer than expected, impaled as he was by the light sword through his chest. The man's exorcist colleagues, both of whom were beheaded, lay nearby in growing pools of the life-fluid. None of them even a had a chance to fight back or call for help.

The lunatic rogue approached the dying priest and stopped to stand over him, malicious red eyes gleaming in twisted joy as he smiled.

"Well, maybe a bit more fun for me than it was for you. I'm just guessing, since you're being awful quiet," he mockingly observed before removing his weapon from its temporary holding and returning it to his belt.

Futilely, the priest attempted to speak, only to spit up more blood that ran down the sides of his jaw.

"Sorry, didn't catch any of that. Anyway, many thanks for the sword. Your contribution will be forgotten as early as tomorrow. But don't you worry, she'll be put to good use; killing people, starting wars, the really exciting shit, you know. And hey!"

He then knelt down and drew a revolver-style light gun from its holster on his hip. Cocking back the hammer, he gently placed the barrel against his third victims's forehead.

"Send another message for me, would ya? Please tell ol' Saint Pete that I said, 'Fish this, o fisher of men.'"

An enormous *BANG* rang out through the darkened streets, lights from surrounding houses coming on as the people who heard it were jolted awake. By the time anyone went outside to investigate, they found only bodies strewn about the alleyway. A haunting laughter seemed to echo in the wind that night, like the wailing of a hateful ghost.

…

(1): A hot pot meal typically reserved for very special occasions. Can be made one of two ways and is usually prepared and served at the table.

…

There you go.

Well, this more or less wraps up the Riser Arc and the events immediately after. Short, yes, but it's a bridging chapter (probably not the right term). There wasn't much else that had to go in here besides the rating game aftermath for Issei and alluding to the events in store for Connor. I actually ended up cutting out several sections I had planned for this thing when I realized how little they did to advance the plot.

On that note; in light of the complaints this fic has received about its pacing, both here and on AO3, I will endeavor to speed up events in a way that will still allow me to bring what I want to bring into the story. Now that the AU has been reasonably established, I can better afford to do that.

If you enjoyed what you read, leave a favorite, a follow or a review to let me know. Any advice or support that you could give would be greatly appreciated. If you'd like to take a shot at the challenge listed in chapter 1, send me a PM, I'd love to hear your thoughts on it.

As always, thank you for reading!