Hey hey people, danzy here
rejoice, my gravy babies, for you didn't need to wait a year or two for another update of this story
Highly recommend that you re-read chapter 19 "New Friends, New Adventures" or chapter 17 up. I added more interactions between the casts and added a bunch of Zest moments that I know Whimsy will appreciate. I've rewritten all of the past chapters, and possibly chap 20 soonish
k nuff talk
Academy DxD
[Chapter XXI - A]
|| Echoes of the Past Pt. 1 ||
Issei sat there in the suffocating silence, his mind racing as he tried to make sense of the inexplicable situation. The room seemed to taunt him, its walls pressing in on him like a vise, while the shattered doors remained as a mocking reminder of his futile attempts.
His thoughts whirled like a tornado, grappling with the possibilities of what had just occurred. Some kind of twisted illusion? A trick played by the malevolent forces within this nightmarish place? Something to do with Lower Hell? Or had he truly been separated from his friends, cast into this confounding chamber while they were lost in the depths of the labyrinth?
Time felt distorted in this surreal space, and Issei couldn't help but replay the events leading up to this moment. He questioned every decision, every action, searching for some clue, some overlooked detail that might shed light on their predicament.
As he brooded in the eerie half-light of the room, his resolve began to flicker. Issei wasn't one to give in to despair, not when his friends were at stake. Dungeon or not, he'd beat those who tried to pry away his buddies. Especially with Zest having to sacrifice herself for nothing, whoever sick mind thought this was a funny joke would soon learn that it wouldn't be as entertaining once he beat their face to a pulp.
With renewed determination, he pushed himself to his feet, his eyes narrowing with newfound resolve as his brown eyes flickered into malevolent gold amidst the inky blackness of his scleras.
His journey around the labyrinth was filled with uncertainty and trepidation. The oppressive atmosphere seemed to cling to him like a suffocating shroud, the darkness an ever-present companion that threatened to swallow him whole. But he pressed on, driven by his unwavering will to find his friends and discover the truth behind this malevolent place.
At one point, Issei found himself standing before what appeared to be a bottomless chasm — definitely lost now. A narrow bridge built of floating rocks stretched across the abyss, seemingly his only path forward. As he cautiously stepped onto the bridge, the stone beneath him crumbled, and he realized it was an illusion. He simply leapt over the chasm, leaving a crater behind his powerful jump.
His spider-like appendages burst forth, embedding themselves against the cliff's craggy walls, and used his new 'wings' to crawl back up, and continue his aimless search. Once he got his friends out of here, the first thing he'd do was to ask Kuroka and Ingvild to make some sort of tracking magic. Having no GPS or map to help him kinda sucked.
Hours passed, perhaps even days in the timeless abyss of the labyrinth, but Issei refused to yield. He encountered countless dead ends, even traps and illusions that sought to break his spirit, but he persevered. He knew that somewhere within this nightmarish maze, his friends were waiting, and he would not rest until he found them.
Then, as he turned another dark corner, he stumbled upon a room unlike any other he had encountered in the labyrinth. It was a chamber bathed in an eerie, dark bluish light, the walls adorned with grotesque carvings and symbols that pulsed with an otherworldly energy. In the center of the room stood an ornate pedestal, upon which rested a single tome, a crimson gemstone embedded on its leather cover, glowing dimly.
He approached the pedestal cautiously, his instincts warning him of danger. The tome seemed to beckon to him, its crimson glow hypnotic and alluring. This glowing book was no doubt a catalyst or perhaps the core of this dungeon — all Dungeons had one. Destroy it, and the Dungeon would crumble.
As he reached out to touch it, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was a pivotal moment, a test of his resolve. Uncertainty gnawed at his resolve, questions and hypotheticals brewing like a storm inside his head, fearing that if he simply destroyed it, and it happened to be the Core, he might lose his friends forever.
"In the depths of the forgotten past,"
Before he touched the gemstone, a soft, ghostly whisper brushed against his ears, so delicate that it felt like a mere breath of wind. His eyes snapped up and he rushed outside the tiny room, searching for the source of the voice, and finding nothing but the shadows. He couldn't detect a single soul other than his own.
But the voice that resonated in the chamber was unmistakably haunting, as if it had come from a long tube.
"Where memories entwine and enchain," the whisper continued, hauntingly intimate, "Seek not the answers through strength alone, but let the echoes of time define. Seek the pages of their stories, lost and forlorn, Embrace the echoes of yesterday, and awaken them from the depths where they're torn."
The voice was barely a whisper, but it resonated in his ears, sending shivers down his spine. It was as if the very dungeon itself was trying to guide him after pulling an unfunny prank.
Issei's mind raced as he tried to make sense of the cryptic message. It was clear that the key to rescuing his friends lay in revisiting their pasts, in understanding the memories that had entangled and chained them. But how was he supposed to do that in this mysterious place?
As he pondered, a spark of realization ignited within him. Memories, stories, echoes of yesterday... It was all about the narratives of their lives, the experiences and events that had shaped them. Issei recalled the vivid stories and moments he had shared with Irina, Sai, Zest, Kuroka, Ingvild, and the Heroine Trio soon followed.
With newfound determination, perhaps one born out of the stubborn refusal to succumb to despair, Issei began to recall these moments, one by one. He revisited the times they had laughed together, the challenges they had faced, and the bonds they had forged. Each memory was like a piece of a puzzle, and as he pieced them together in his mind, he felt a growing connection to his friends, as if he were drawing closer to their very souls.
He could hear its pages turning, the groan of the room as it began to shift and change, the oppressive darkness giving way to ethereal glimmers of light from the gemstone. He felt a strange sensation, as if he were transcending time and space, entering a realm where memories held the book of rules.
Issei closed his eyes and first focused on Irina, knowing she was the most terrified. Summoning memories of her training sessions, her victories over Kendo tournaments, and the moments of tenderness they had experienced together. He could feel her presence growing stronger, as if she were reaching out to him from across the divide between past and present.
But his thoughts swiveled to Kuroka, her image forming vividly in his mind, to her expression that screamed of her silent fear. He recalled her mischievous pranks, her soft smile whenever she had Vivi sit on her lap, her laugh as they tested Sai's patience, the times when they had simply enjoyed each other's company, the rare occasions where she shared her vulnerability, and her quiet lament of her one-sided affection towards her little sister.
Reliving those moments, and he sensed her presence drawing nearer, as if she were responding to his call.
The room continued to change, its dimensions expanding and contracting like a living entity. Issei knew he was on the right path, that he was unraveling the mysteries of the labyrinth and inching closer to rescuing his friends from the clutches of their own histories.
With renewed determination, staring at the swirling blackhole now appearing in doorway where he entered the eerie chamber, he whispered to himself,
"Fuck it. We ball."
And in that moment, Issei took the leap, the chamber's enigmatic magic guiding him further into the depths of the labyrinth of memories, where the nightmares of the pasts awaited his arrival.
As he jumped inside the swirling portal, he felt a sensation of weightlessness, as if he were floating through time and space. The darkness enveloped him, and for a moment, he was lost in the abyss of memories. When he finally emerged on the other side, he found himself in a place that seemed both recognizable and alien.
It was as if he had been transported back in time, but to a moment that wasn't his.
Issei blinked, disoriented by the sudden change in surroundings. The world around him appeared to be frozen in a moment from the past, a snapshot of a time and place that he couldn't quite comprehend. He first glanced at his hands, at his normal human hands. He attempted to bring out his Demonic form and found it was simply impossible.
'Great,' he couldn't help but grumble, feeling more and more like an actual pivotal character of a fantasy novel. 'Of course.'
A little bit of sass was all he needed to recollect himself. He took a quick glance around the place, and it was all it took for him to tell he was in a laboratory or some sort.
It was located inside a cavern, an underground facility, hidden away from the world above. The air was heavy with the acrid scent of chemicals, and the faint hum of machinery filled the sterile, oppressive atmosphere. Dim yet harsh fluorescent lights hung from the low ceiling, casting stark shadows across the stark white walls that seemed to close in on the room.
The walls themselves were marred with scorch marks and stains, evidence of whatever experiments that had taken place within these cold, unforgiving confines. Metal tables with restraints and surgical tools stood as ominous monuments to the horrors that had transpired here.
Rows of glass vials containing strange, glowing substances lined the shelves, their contents a sickly shade of green that seemed to pulse with an eerie, unnatural light. The floor was a cold, unforgiving concrete, slick with blood and other unidentifiable fluids.
No humanity was found in this place. A place where the boundaries of morality had been obliterated in the pursuit of twisted knowledge and power. Somehow, he could tell all of these — as if he had become a part of this story, even if he was a mere bystander.
The main character was no doubt Kuroka, presently in the center of the room. Without her peculiar ringlet hairstyle, her black hair cascaded freely to her back, a stark contrast to the pale blue patient gown, stained with blood of the mangled figure underneath her.
He could feel the weight of the nightmare pressing down on him, as if he were reliving the intense emotions that had plagued Kuroka during that dark time. Her amber eyes were filled with a mixture of rage, fear, and desperation as she glanced over at him, and before he could reach out, she broke the silence.
"Wait, Shirone—!" Her voice cracked with anguish as she reached out towards him, and bolted right past him, disappearing into the shadows behind.
Tons of hours spent watching movies and he could tell it wasn't him that he saw, but her little sister instead, who had no doubt bolted out of the room out of sheer terror.
Before he could think of a way to actually do something, the entire scene crumbled before him, and with an exasperated "You've gotta be shittin' me," he fell into the void. He freefell into the void with a sense of frustration, his arms crossed in a gesture of defiance. Not fearful of what might wait for him, or even worried that he might go 'splat' and become a gory pancake, just ticked off.
With a whiplash, Issei found himself thrust into a dense, shadowy forest, the transition jarring and disorienting and downright annoying. The atmosphere was thick with tension and fear, as if the very air had absorbed the emotions of the scene he had entered. It became apparent that he was again witnessing a pivotal moment in Kuroka's past.
Before him, Kuroka was sprinting through the forest, her breaths ragged and her footsteps frantic. Her dark hair flowed behind her like a streak of shadow, her amber eyes wide with terror and desperation. It was clear that she was fleeing from pursuers who showed no signs of relenting.
Issei could feel the intensity of the chase, the relentless determination of those who pursued Kuroka. His heart ached for her as he watched the scene unfold, knowing that this was a defining moment that had left scars on her soul.
The accusing words of one of her pursuers, a woman, pierced the air. "How could you?! Master loved you, and you killed him!"
"He FORCED himself on me you idiot!"
Fury exploded in him.
"LIAR! He took pity on you— how could he?! He gave you and your sister a new home and you repaid him by KILLING HIM?!"
"Why won't any of you listen, damn it! You've got it all wrong! I don't want to hurt you!"
"YOU'LL DIE FOR WHAT YOU'VE DONE, WHORE!"
He could hear Kuroka's voice, pleading and defending herself against accusations that seemed unjust. Her words were filled with anguish and frustration, a desperate attempt to make her pursuers understand. But it was painfully evident that they wouldn't listen, that their judgment had been clouded by prejudice or fear.
"Listen to me!" Kuroka cried out, her voice a mixture of anger and despair as her six pairs of bat-like wings sprouted from her back. She tried to take flight, a desperate bid for escape from the relentless pursuers, but her efforts were met with a relentless barrage of magic. The force sent her crashing back to the unforgiving dirt, the pain evident in her groans as she curled in agony. "ARGH— son of a—"
Issei's frustration surged as he watched. His initial instinct was to rush to Kuroka's aid, but he knew he was here as an observer, unable to directly intervene. Instead, he turned his attention to her pursuers, whose features remained obscured by dark shadows. With a determined stride, he moved towards them, ready to confront the faceless figures. However, as he had expected, they passed through him without hesitation, leaving him to curse this godforsaken scene.
Before they could close in on Kuroka once more, her Sage Magic surged to life, blasting through her pursuers with an unrelenting force. Their forms were rent asunder, and they vanished into the shadows, their threat momentarily vanquished.
He watched in grim satisfaction as Kuroka made quick work of them, but now he knew he was going to fall into the void again.
But instead of being whisked away to another memory, Issei remained in this scene, his presence unnoticed by Kuroka. He observed her as she slowly pulled herself together, her sobs echoing through the eerie forest. Mud and dirt smeared her torn lab gown, and she clutched her sprained leg in pain, blood pouring from the left side of her back.
He felt a punch to his gut as he listened to her agony, the raw emotion pouring from her like a torrent. She cried out in frustration, her fist pounding the unforgiving ground before she clung to the dirt, her tears mingling with the soil.
"I did it all for her!" her anguished cry shattered the air, her voice cracking with anguish. She slammed her fist into the dirt in frustration before gripping the earth beneath her, her sobs wracking her chest, echoing through the silent forest. No one to believe or console her, her own baby sister nowhere in sight.
"Why… why…?!" Utterly alone, she felt utterly broken. Her voice rose into a primal scream, an expression of all the pain and despair that had haunted her. "Aaah…. Aah—! AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!"
Her scream tore through the stillness, reverberating in the desolate forest, and for a moment, it seemed as if the very trees themselves trembled in response.
It was his first time ever hearing her scream like that. He didn't even know she could scream like that. Didn't know she could cry like this either, as the moment her scream dissipated, what remained was a crying girl.
Issei couldn't stop a curse that slipped mutter under his breath, "...Fuck's sake..." He wasn't raised and trained to hell and back by his mother to be helpless, yet here he was, feeling as useful as a chocolate teapot at a summer barbecue.
"Who's there?!" she hissed, her eyes narrowing as she scanned her surroundings, her desperation mingled with fear. In a flash, she fired a bluish orb of pure energy straight at him. Instinct took over, and Issei barely managed to dodge the incoming attack, his heart pounding in his chest as he landed several feet away, crouched and ready to react.
But when he looked back at Kuroka, he knew she wasn't glaring past him, but right at him.
"...You can see me? Kuroka?"
The astonishment in his voice was evident as he stared at her, incredulous, lost at whatever way these memories worked. First she ran past him, her pursuers and former Peerage members ran straight through him, but now she could see him? What the hell?
Her amber eyes, still damp with tears, locked onto him with a mixture of surprise and uncertainty. "Who are you?" Her voice quivered, and for a moment, it seemed like she might fire another attack. "How do you know my name?!"
Issei quickly raised his hands, palms open, showing he meant no harm. "I'm…" he paused for a moment, a myriad of responses brewing in his head, ranging from 'your best nightmare-crasher' to 'a lost guy', and he couldn't stop himself from choosing a snarky response — his coping mechanism. "I'm your future boyfriend."
"Wha—?" Kuroka's voice faltered, her eyes widening in disbelief at his unexpected answer. It wasn't the response she had anticipated, and it took her a moment to process his words. "...What? Is this some kind of bad joke?"
He raked a hand through his hair, a gesture that nearly triggered her violet fireball. "Well, I've heard that laughter is the best way to win a lady's heart. So, here I am, trying my luck."
"You're not a Devil. Or a Demon," Kuroka sniveled, still on edge as she wiped her tears to not look as pathetic. "The fuck are you looking at."
"My future bedwarmer," he said with a chuckle, before having to dodge another Aura Bullet, diving to the ground. "...Alright, I deserved that."
She snarled. "Next time, I won't miss."
"Yeah, well… Let's hope that you do," he said as he picked himself up, dusting his now muddy plain red shirt, moving closer to her afterwards. "I come in peace, cat. I swear."
Issei then offered her a crooked smile, a genuine one this time. "Look, I know this is all bizarre, and I can't explain how any of this is happening, but I swear the last thing on my mind is to hurt you. You look fed up with it already."
Her black feline ears twitched, and she narrowed her eyes. Skeptical, but choosing to wait. "...Do anything funny and I'll rip you from top to bottom."
"Uh huh. Feel free to turn me into a crispy critter if that's ever the case."
Their interaction had taken an unexpected turn, and despite the tension and Kuroka's fiery outbursts, there was an undeniable undercurrent of amusement in her amber eyes. It was as if, for a brief moment, the weight of the past and the shadows that had haunted her had been momentarily lifted by their absurd conversation.
"...What do you want?"
"Get us both out of here," he said, looking around the thick, unfamiliar forest. Everything seemed the wrong shade of black and white, now that he actually paid attention to the scenery. "Don't know if you remember, but some years from now, we were at a… sunken library or some sort, on behalf of a Satan. Long story short; you, including the rest of my friends that are your soon-to-be friends, got sucked into a room while I was blown away from some… bullshit plot bomb or something like that."
Kuroka blinked. "...Are you a madman of this forest?"
"I might as well be," he scanned around some more, trying to find any gap or some sort, but found that even the skies were blocked by the lush canopy above him. "Right now, I'm guessing the others are trapped in their own nightmare, like you are right now."
"...Prove it."
"I saw you stradling that dead former Master of yours. Heard you scream for Shirone as you chased her out. And all of a sudden I'm watching a chase sequence, felt my blood boil from seeing you get hurt, and now here I am, talking to you and glad to see you again."
Kuroka regarded him with a mix of surprise and wariness. His words had struck a chord of recognition in her, a distant memory resurfacing through the haze of the past. "You… knew…?" she whispered, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "But how do you know all of this? Who are you really?"
Issei let out a chuckle of relief, relieved that she was beginning to trust him, even if just a little. "I told you, I'm your future boyfriend," he quipped, though his smile was warm and reassuring. "I'm Hyoudou Issei, though occasionally you call me 'Idiot'."
Her gaze wandered, her thoughts shrouded in the enigma of this place and his words. Unbeknownst to her, her wounds had mysteriously healed, and the gnawing pain in her ankle had completely dissipated. She muttered the word "Idiot" under her breath, testing it out, a hint of curiosity flickering in her amber eyes. "...You do strike me as one."
"Wow. Rude much?"
Her chuckle, though fleeting, was like a small beam of light in the shadows that had plagued her. But it didn't take long for her to sober, a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes before she averted them away. She gingerly broached a delicate subject, her voice soft and uncertain.
"...If you're from the future… assuming you aren't lying— what… happened… between me and my sister… did we… you know… ever make up?"
Issei leaned closer, his expression earnest. "Not yet," he replied, his voice sincere, though tinged with a playful undertone. He noticed the flick of disappointment in her eyes, evident in the subtle wilting of her feline ears. "But once we're done with this place and that damn library, we'll work on that reunion first thing once we get back."
A shadow of doubt clouded Kuroka's eyes, and she couldn't help but seek reassurance. "...Are there any hope for that to actually happen, or you're just saying it to make me feel slightly better?"
He took a seat beside her. To her surprise, she didn't react with her usual wariness, instead regarding him with a newfound sense of trust — perhaps one born out of desperation.
"I like you too much to do that to you," he confessed, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he flashed her a lopsided smile. "You'll get Shirone back. You'll be back to sharing sushi or fighting over who gets the last piece of tuna or whatever you cat-people do with your sister."
"Lie to me and I know I'll kill you," she said, and yet, her lips had curled into a soft smile as a sense of hope began to wash over her.
As she glanced down at her now restored black kimono with its vibrant red accents, she felt the weight of her past memories loosen their grip, and her younger self slowly transformed back into her present self—the frivolous Nekoshou that had nestled herself in his heart.
Her eyes still glistened with the remnants of tears, proof to the torment she had endured in the nightmarish chapters of her life. And then, as she leaned in, she whispered to him in a voice filled with warmth and longing,
"About time you showed up, Idiot."
Before said Idiot could say one of his many lines of snark, Kuroka threw her arms around him, clutching him with a fierce urgency, as if she feared he might vanish like a fleeting illusion. Issei welcomed her into his embrace, his hand instinctively moving to cradle the back of her head, his fingers playfully ruffling her feline ears just as he always did.
As the warmth of their reunion enveloped them, Kuroka felt another tear escaping her eye, this time not from despair, but from the overwhelming relief of finally having him by her side once more. A tear that spoke of their unbreakable bond, a bond that had endured the darkest of trials and now emerged stronger than ever.
Her nightmare ended.
The transition from the haunting forest of memories to the eerie blue room was uncanny, like a sudden shift in the currents of time and space where everything blurred before taking vivid shape once more. The two found themselves standing in the center of the chamber, the tome, now opened, was still resting upon the ornate pedestal.
Issei glanced around, his senses on high alert as he took in their surroundings. At least this one was familiar.
The room pulsed with an otherworldly energy, and the grotesque carvings on the walls seemed to watch them with malevolent intent. Kuroka released her hold but stayed close, her amber eyes filled with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. She flexed her fingers, perhaps still adjusting to the sudden change in their surroundings.
He let out a low whistle, breaking the eerie silence. "Well, we're back. I guess that book is our ticket in and out of these memories," he said, his eyes fixed on the book as if trying to decipher its secrets.
Kuroka observed, staying behind. "How did you do it?"
"Thought of you really, really hard." As she scoffed and chuckled at his response, Issei reached out hesitantly as he traced the blank yellow pages.
The thick volume responded to some unseen force, slamming shut with a resounding thud. Issei pulled his hand back quickly, surprise and wariness etched across his features. It was as if the book possessed a mind of its own, its intentions shrouded in mystery. The gemstone on its cover glowed ominously, casting eerie shadows across the chamber.
"Freaky," was his only summary. "This is why I hate magic."
"Hey."
"I hate magic that traps my friends in some fucked-up book."
She let that one slide.
"One down, I guess," Issei continued, hinting at their next steps. "You wanna hang back?"
"As if." Inching towards the pedestal, now standing next to him, Kuroka knew that they had to get the rest of their companions out. "I'm going after Vivi."
He nodded, expecting as much. "Should we split up? Or do this together all lovey-dovey like?"
"The sooner I get the fuck out of this place, the better— so no, nya. Sorry, but I've poured my feelings. I can deal with 'not seeing you' for a couple of hours."
Issei chuckled. "Fine. I'll get Irina. You should try and do it first— it'll shoot out a portal if you did it right. At least, that's what it did for me."
"Uh huh," Kuroka gingerly hummed as she stood before the pedestal. "And I just need to think about her?"
"Picture the moments that matter most. And I don't think we can use our powers when we're in there."
"...Ugh, of course…" she grumbled, and Issei couldn't resist smiling to himself. Who'd think The Beast's offspring's kindred spirits would be a black cat.
"In the depths of the forgotten past,"
Her hackles raised, Kuroka immediately darted her eyes all around them.
Issei, on the other hand, was hoping for a mute button.
"Where memories entwine and enchain," the ghastly voice repeated, "Seek not the answers through strength alone, but let the echoes of time define. Seek the pages of their stories, lost and forlorn, Embrace the echoes of yesterday, and awaken them from the depths where they're torn."
Kuroka took a deep breath, steadying herself for the challenge that lay ahead. She had faced countless battles and dangers in her life as a Stray Devil, but this mysterious maze of memories was unlike anything she had encountered before. With him by her side, at least, and the determination to reclaim Ingvild driving her forward, she was ready to confront whatever obstacles lay ahead.
They shared a glance, a silent understanding passing between them.
"You don't have to reach out or place your hand over the book or anything. I was standing right here."
"Hm… I wanna do it anyway."
"Well. Suit yourself."
Kuroka shrugged, and nodded, and closed her eyes. Intense fervor filled her heart — a burning desire to redeem her past mistake. She reached out, placing her hand on the book's cover, her fingers brushing against the glowing gemstone. As she focused her thoughts on Ingvild, on the memories they had shared, her shy nature, her adorable giggles, her endearing smile even if she couldn't quite catch what Kuroka and Issei were babbling about, a surge of magic resonated from the book.
The chamber began to tremble, and an ethereal portal materialized before her, its shimmering surface reflecting her resolute expression. It was a doorway to another memory, another chapter in this labyrinth of emotions.
Kuroka glanced back at Issei, a reassuring smile on her lips. "I'll be back in five, Idiot."
"Don't keep Vivi waiting." Issei grinned in response. "And don't make me have to get you out again. Next time won't be free."
"If it ever happens, I'll let you fondle me for a minute."
With those temporary parting words, Kuroka stepped through the portal, disappearing into Ingvild's memory, leaving Issei behind in the eerie chamber as the portal sewed itself away. He knew that their journey was far from over, and the challenges they would face were bound to test their resolve and courage.
Tough luck for the dungeon or whatever might be watching him, because his resolve had been tampered by years of a thousand push-ups every morning with a smile and reciting Shakespearean sonnets while sparring her Demons. His courage had been honed by the occasional rogue guard dogs with a penchant for world domination. Compared to those, a magical memory maze was child's play. Issei was more afraid of accidentally walking into a girl's locker room than he was of any mystical enigma.
"Yeh… you ain't got shit on us…" he cockily muttered as he closed his eyes. "Or at least, me."
Irina's face flickered into his mind's eye. Their shared childhood memories, her chuuni tendencies, her bubbly laughter, her peppy and tomboyish demeanor, her unexpectedly girly side, her laughter and her cries, her disapproval whenever he mutter out a curse just to get a kick from her reaction, her transformation into a Demon, the fright that hit him when she fell unconscious in his bedroom, and the helplessness he felt then — and the small promise they shared straight after, and the fear in her eyes as she vanished into that accursed chamber.
With a deep breath, Issei let those memories wash over him, each one a thread that connected him to Irina, a lifeline that led him through their shared experiences. Anger, this time, had decided to mingle with his rampant will. He failed to save her then, he wasn't going to fail again.
The portal erupted once again from the still open book, a whirling spiral of chaotic energy in contrast to Kuroka's smooth surface.
Didn't matter. He took the leap regardless.
Break
Kuroka blinked in surprise as she found herself in a place that was nothing like the nightmares she had expected. Instead of a terrifying scenario, she was in a magnificent castle, filled with a sense of grandeur and beauty that took her breath away and already tickled her catburglaring itch. It was unlike anything she had ever seen before, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of awe wash over her, and she was never big on castles.
Its architecture was stunning, with intricate details adorning the walls and ceilings that were unmistakably in line with a Devil, what with their penchant for this sort of stuff. The soft glow of crystal chandeliers illuminated the spacious hallways and elegant ballrooms. It was a place that felt both regal and enchanting, and Kuroka couldn't help but wonder if this was a reflection of Ingvild's inner world.
The castle, however, was empty, and the only sound that echoed through its halls was Ingvild's enchanting voice.
As she explored the barren castle, her keen ears distinctly heard Ingvild's lovely hum, a haunting melody that seemed to echo through the empty halls. Her voice, whenever she decided to hum, always held a strange allure to it, much like a siren's song. Without much thinking, Kuroka followed it. With each step she took, the melody grew clearer, drawing her closer to its source.
Kuroka followed the sound, drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Or cat to a fish bazaar. Finally, she entered a room bathed in a soft, ethereal light — a bedroom. At the carpeted floor of the room sat Ingvild, drawing and humming with an air of serene innocence. her eyes closed as she continued to hum the enchanting tune. Her long soft and flouncy lilac hair cascaded freely down her back, sprawled over the velvety red carpet, and she looked utterly serene and captivating in her own world.
And utterly small and utterly adorable.
This must be the early years of the Little Leviathan, as Ingvild appeared no older than seven in this memory of hers. She was twice as small and Kuroka felt her heart had been stabbed twice from how cute the she-devil was with her pudgy cheeks and sparkling sunset eyes.
Kuroka watched in fascination as Ingvild swayed to the music, her voice weaving a spell that seemed to transcend the confines of the room. It was a moment of pure, unguarded beauty, and Kuroka couldn't help but be captivated by it. As she observed, a figure entered the room and stood at Kuroka's current spot. The sudden presence startled Kuroka for a moment, but she quickly realized that she was merely an observer in this memory, unable to interact with the events taking place. Curiosity led her to shift to the side for a better view of the newcomer.
The woman who had entered the room was tall, with skin darker than Zest's, and her brown hair was neatly tied in an elegant bun. What drew Kuroka's attention, however, was the woman's attire, which was remarkably revealing even by Devil standards. She wore an extremely low-cut purple dress with high slits that exposed a significant portion of her ample cleavage and long, shapely legs.
Kuroka couldn't place who this figure was, but Ingvild's cheerful greeting quickly provided the answer. "Auntie Katerea!" Ingvild's innocent and enthusiastic welcome revealed the identity of the woman before Kuroka, who remained a silent observer.
Katerea then seemed to say something, though Kuroka couldn't make out the words despite her keen feline hearing. Her lips were moving but no sounds came out from her mouth. Whatever it was, it had a profound effect on the young Ingvild. Kuroka watched as the girl's face contorted into an expression of pronounced sadness, her innocence marred by the weight of a conversation she couldn't fully understand.
"...Vivi—" Before Kuroka could attempt to reach out to Ingvild, the memory abruptly ended, and she found herself once again plunging through the void, bracing herself for the next memory that would form with slight irritation, showcased by her furrowing her sleek eyebrows.
She was thrown back in the exact same room as the memory continued. "...What gives…?" Kuroka said along with a huff, clearly expecting some drastic change.
But she didn't mind. Ingvild was there, and she had blossomed into her early teenage years, and her lilac hair had taken on a wavier, more mature allure. The tune she hummed, however, remained an unchanging echo of her innocence, like a delicate melody suspended in time.
Ingvild sat on the carpeted floor of her bedroom, lost in her own world, drawing with meticulous care. Sat next to her, appearing to watch her drawing, was a figure hugged in the same light purple dress as Ingvild, except her features were obscured by an abstract play of light. However, Kuroka could still discern the striking similarity in their wavy lilac locks.
Katerea entered the bedroom once more, and Kuroka noticed a sad smile on her face as she approached Ingvild, and Ingvild was soon infected by that sad expression. The fact that this aunt of hers seemed to consistently evoke sadness in Ingvild was starting to grind Kuroka's gears.
Ingvild blinked in response to Katerea's words, though Kuroka still couldn't make out the conversation.
The sudden tears that welled up in Ingvild's eyes when Katerea spoke again cut straight through Kuroka
"...But it'll hurt so badly knowing they're not here..." she caught Ingvild's whisper.
Kuroka stared at Katerea, silently wanting her to break this cycle of needless sadness. But the heartache deepened as Katerea murmured something and then, with a wave of her hand, caused Ingvild's 'mother' to disappear. The emptiness in Ingvild's gaze, now fixated on the vacant space where her illusionary mother had once stood, was almost unbearable to witness.
"I know, Sweetling," Katerea finally said, her voice clear and audible this time. It was a voice laced with understanding and compassion. "Sometimes I wish my little sister was still around as well, but, sometimes, we have to let go to move on."
Ingvild's soft voice responded, "I'd much rather pretend as if she's still here... Is that wrong?"
Katerea's response was to draw Ingvild into a tender embrace, offering what little comfort she could to a child burdened by aching loneliness. It was a moment of profound heartache, a snapshot of Ingvild's desperate yearning for the love and presence of her parents.
"Please move in with me, Sweetling…" the older Devil pleaded. "It's not healthy for you to stay here. I'm worried sick about you. I've promised my sister to take care of you, I can't do that if you lock yourself in here."
"...Okay, Auntie…"
Kuroka, unable to offer any solace, could only watch with a heavy heart, deeply moved by the poignant scene before her. She wished she could somehow ease Ingvild's pain, now knowing that this young Leviathan had endured far too much loss and loneliness for her tender years.
The memory shifted once more, and Kuroka found herself in a different scene, one that was vastly different from the previous ones. Ingvild, now older and slightly taller, draped in her trademark light and elegant dress, her lilac hair cascading in intricate waves, was engrossed in her studies within a library. The place itself seemed to stretch on endlessly, with countless shelves laden with ancient tomes and grimoires, each containing untold wisdom and mysteries.
It was a place of immense knowledge and arcane secrets for those who cared — unlike Kuroka.
Immediately the Nekoshou forgoed her earlier melancholy as it gave way to irritation. She was fed up with books and libraries for at least a week.
But she could tell from a single glance that this was the moment when Ingvild began her journey into becoming a formidable magic practitioner. The tomes she pored over, the sigils and incantations she meticulously transcribed into her notes, all spoke of her relentless pursuit of magical mastery.
However, as Kuroka delved deeper into the memory, her heart ached once more. She realized that Ingvild's seemingly insatiable thirst for magic wasn't solely driven by a desire for power or knowledge; it was born from a profound sense of longing and loss.
Ingvild had dedicated herself to the study of forbidden magics, rituals, and spells, all with one ultimate goal in mind: to bring her mother back to life. The realization struck Kuroka like a thunderbolt, and she felt a deep well of sympathy for the young Leviathan. Ingvild's eyes shimmered with determination and grief as she pored over texts on necromancy and resurrection spells. Her quest to revive her mother, her unwavering belief that she could undo the irrevocable, was something that resonated deeply with Kuroka.
If she could, then she would have brought back her own mother. Her father could stay dead though.
With a sigh, Kuroka watched as Ingvild labored tirelessly, her studies consuming her every waking moment. As the scene unfolded, Kuroka couldn't help but admire Ingvild's tenacity and love for her mother. Yet, it was impossible to ignore the tragic undertone of her relentless pursuit, for it was fueled by the unrelenting pain of loss and the fervent hope of resurrection.
But after a while, Ingvild's eyes had clouded over, their luster dimming as she wrestled with the pain of knowing there was no magical tome capable of resurrecting her mother. The weight of her unfulfilled longing bore down upon her, threatening to engulf her in an abyss of sorrow.
"...Vivi…" Kuroka's inadvertent sigh and whisper seemed to ripple through the fabric of the memory itself. Ingvild, who had been engrossed in her studies and lost in her grief-stricken determination, was suddenly jolted from her solitary world by the sound of Kuroka's voice.
In an instant, the atmosphere of the memory shifted, and Ingvild's lilac eyes widened with shock and disbelief. Her surprise was quickly replaced by a radiant smile as she regarded Kuroka.
"Oh, hi," Ingvild greeted, her voice a warm and inviting caress, laden with sincere fondness. "Hello."
It was the same smile that had always managed to brighten Kuroka's darkest days, a smile that carried with it a unique charm that few could resist. Ingvild's presence, even in the midst of her relentless pursuit of magic, was a source of comfort and solace.
Holding back her smile was practically impossible. Kuroka smiled back, her heart warming at the sight of Ingvild's familiar "c:" expression. Despite the melancholic backdrop of the memory, there was a glimmer of hope in her awareness of Kuroka's presence. She supposed this was not so dissimilar to what happened when Issei was in her nightmare.
"Hey, Vivi," Kuroka greeted in return, her voice filled with a mixture of relief and tenderness. This unexpected encounter in the midst of Ingvild's deeply personal memory was a reminder of the unbreakable bond that tied them together, transcending even the confines of time and space.
"Vivi?" Ingvild tilted her head. "Who's Vivi?"
"You, silly," she chuckled, taking a seat next to the Devil who was more than welcoming to her, immediately scooting her chair slightly to give Kuroka more space.
"But my name is Ingvild," Ingvild stated with a hint of bewilderment, her gaze focused on Kuroka's face, her eyes like a serene sunset.
"Kuroka," she replied without hesitation, her voice a melodic purr.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Kuroka. Well, it's a delight to meet anyone here. This place isn't exactly a bustling hotspot, aside from the librarian and a few staff…" Ingvild mused, a tinge of melancholy briefly shadowing her features. However, it swiftly made way for her insatiable curiosity. "You don't quite seem like a Devil. I don't recall any Devil sporting those endearing fuzzy ears. What brings you to the Library of Alexandria?"
Not a name Kuroka was familiar with, so she simply snuffled and replied, "I like to sneak around places."
Ingvild immediately formed her hypothesis. "Oh! Is it related to your feline characteristics?"
She flicked her ears to amuse the Devil. "I guess you can say that, nya."
Ingvild's eyes sparkled. "Ooooh~! How fascinating—" she exclaimed, jotting down her newfound revelation amidst the myriad of notes that surrounded her like a constellation of knowledge.
"What are you doing here, Vivi? With all these… scrolls and books and… sigils."
That halted her note-writing as the Devil paused. "...Oh… I'm trying to find a way, Ms. Kuroka."
Kuroka glanced around, feigning innocence. "There are an awful lot of books here-nya."
"Well, yes, there are indeed an awful lot of books here," she acknowledged with a thoughtful nod. Good old Vivi… sarcasm and expressions just seemed to blitz past her head. "But you see, each book contains a piece of the puzzle, a hidden thread of knowledge waiting to be unraveled."
She swept her hand over the countless scrolls, ancient tomes, and intricately adorned sigils that adorned the library's vast shelves, as if encompassing the vastness of her quest. "I'm searching for a way, Ms. Kuroka," she reiterated, her tone resolute yet tinged with a soft longing. "A way to bring my mother back."
Kuroka's ears twitched with curiosity as she leaned in a bit closer. "Your mother, huh? Tell me more, Vivi."
Ingvild's expression shifted to one of tender reminiscence as she spoke of her mother. "She was lovely! Strong, kind-hearted, and incredibly skilled in the mystic arts. She taught me everything I know about magic, and her voice and hum always soothes me. But..."
Her voice quivered slightly, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "She's been gone for years now… I don't know where she is… no one seems to know. And I can't help but feel that there's a way to bring her back. I've read every book, studied every spell, and decoded every sigil, but I haven't found the answer yet. …I don't know if I ever will though…"
It shook her heart that there was still much she didn't know about the young Vivi.
The source of Ingvild's anguish was evident. The young Devil was searching for something, something that could never be found within the dusty tomes of the library. She yearned for a book, an ancient and mystical tome that could bring her mother back to life. But such a book was a mere figment of her fervent desire, a cruel illusion that danced tantalizingly at the edge of her grasp.
"...Do you want to stay here, Vivi?"
Her bangs swayed as she shook her head lightly. "...I don't know…"
Kuroka pondered for a moment, thoughtfully considering her words. She noticed the atmosphere in the library began to shift, gradually growing somber like the fading embers of a once-vibrant fire. She sensed that it was now her time to gently guide Ingvild away from this heart-wrenching memory, to pull her back from the abyss of despair that had ensnared her.
Kuroka knew it was time to intervene, to offer Ingvild the comfort and solace she so desperately needed. She spoke to her in soothing tones, her words infused with warmth and understanding.
"Vivi, you know," she began, her voice gentle yet earnest, "you have a family waiting for you in the real world." She paused for a moment, letting her words sink in.
Ingvild blinked. "Real world?" she blinked again, her eyes shimmering with a mixture of curiosity and vulnerability.
"This is a sick trick someone created. I was trapped too, but Issei got me out of it, and now I want to get you out, nya."
Kuroka smiled warmly, stroking her lilac hair, feeling the curls gently unfurling between her fingers, before curling back up once she traced past. Ingvild was surprised she'd let a stranger with fuzzy cat ears be this near to her, but at the same time, it was so comforting that she couldn't tell herself to pull away.
"...Are you… someone I hold dearly, Ms. Kuroka?"
That took her off her stride for a moment. "Hmm… well I hope so-nyan. Why'd you ask?"
"...The way you stroke my hair reminds me of my mother. It's hard to describe."
Kuroka giggled. "Well you see, I'm essentially your older sister-nya, so you're not that far off," she said with a smug smile, before reverting to her sincere one. "And you have Issei and Sai, who really are like your overprotective older brothers. They'll protect you as I'm sure any good older brothers would protect their little sisters; us!" she slipped in another chuckle, if only to see Ingvild's face lightened. "We care about you deeply, in our own… strange ways. We won't ever let you bear this alone."
Kuroka spoke from a place of personal experience, having used the bond she'd formed with Ingvild to help fill the gaping hole that Shirone's absence had left in her own heart. She knew that, while neither she nor Sairaorg nor Issei could fully replace the love of a mother, the support and companionship they offered could at least ease the pain of that emptiness.
Because it was what Ingvild had done for her, just by being Vivi.
Ingvild gazed into Kuroka's eyes, her eyes shimmering with a mixture of gratitude and hope. It was as if Kuroka's words had pierced the veil of despair that had shrouded her heart, letting a ray of light into the darkness. She slowly reached out and placed her hand in Kuroka's, accepting the support and love offered to her.
"...Okay," Ingvild whispered, her voice filled with acceptance. "I... I don't think I want to be here alone anymore. I think my mother would be very upset…" and then, she blinked, and her demeanor changed ever so slightly, reverting to the very essence of adorkable.
"Oh hi Ms. Kuroka," she said with her usual smile "Thank you for freeing me— and should I start calling you Elder Sister now?"
"Just call me as you always do, Vivi," Kuroka smiled gently, nuzzling the she-Devil as she felt the space around her shift back to the chamber. "C'mon. Let's see the other guys again you goofball."
Chapter brought to you by the Kuroka Gang
Anyone who slander Vivi shall be hunted down and shot like a wild hog and then drawn and quartered
You expect nightmare, I present you bittersweet moments, and present you my biased view that Kuroka is best girl
Next up, Irina (trying to be best girl), Zest (best girl #3), Sai (Best bro), in those orders.
The million dollar question is; how the hell are the core gang get the Heroes out of their nightmares
gimme your thoughts. gimme gimme gimme gimme. i wrote this chapter from 12am to now 6am. yes, it is holiday in my place rn, and a holiday i shall spend very unwisely, since i'm gonna pass out. so i better have reviews or i'll make Ingvild glare meanly at you, or at least try to