Chapter 9 : What I could become.

The rest of Wednesday went well, but I still bid the two devils goodbye early on rather than follow them out of school grounds since I wanted to do something before leaving and didn't know how much time it would take me.

Now, the clubs weren't opening before next monday, that was a fact, but that didn't mean I couldn't come and start looking before they did, and possibly introduce myself to the club's captain in advance -and in relative privacy- to see where the coin landed.

Following yesterday's events, it was possible that I got rejected out of hand for something inane like me being, well, me, or because the drama I had left in my wake was catching up on me.

I mean, I know the girls had done something, or at least Akeno did, but how did it impact our senpais who may have heard something on the grapevine?

I genuinely had no clues.

And so, I wandered closer to the club ground's proper, my right hand playing with my bangs and my left holding my school bag over my shoulder.

Rias had offhandedly mentioned I kinda looked like a female version of the protagonist of something called Detergent! -which I heavily suspected to be the local rip-off version of Bleach- when I walked like this, and I honestly didn't really know how to take that without having the immediate urge to cringe seven ways to sunday.

Firstly because I was kinda doing it subconsciously, and, secondly, because I was almost certain I wouldn't be able to watch nor read what passed as Japanese media -especially shounen: Drag-so-ball, really?- without either rolling my eyes really hard or bursting out laughing.

Though, I could still keep an ear on the ground for a good Yuri drama as a potential time-waster when I got sick of training all the time, now that I think about it.

I mean, how could you possibly botch something like Citrus or Yagate Kimi ni Naru?

At best, I would've the impression of re-discovering the shows with an entirely new set of characters, and, at worst, well, I would simply try my hardest to forget that anime in DxD was a thing and move on with my life.

…Not like I had watched many of the things in the last years, besides binging Onegai?! recently anyway.

I sigh, before centering myself back, casting my melancholy back with everything else, the susurrus of tHe VoIcEs kept at bay.

When I finally got near the club's grounds proper, my eyebrow quirked up a notch, because I could hear some activity inside the building, which was good in one way, and bad in another.

Good because maybe I could succeed in my self-appointed goal for the day, and bad because there appeared to have more than one person in there, which meant multiple possible points of failure in my attempts at making some kind of good impression.

Shaking my head ruefully and trying for once in life to see the glass half-full, I knocked on the sliding door, before letting myself in, a quiet 'excuse me' on my lips-

-which I instantly regret as every head present turns in my direction, a no small amount of them not-quite paling but close enough, the activity -they were cleaning the place in preparation for next week, if the mops and bucket full of water were any indication- instantly grounding to a halt.

Fucking.

Great.

I mean, it doesn't take a fucking genius to understand that I was busted or some shit.

Someone opens their mouth, a mousy brunette with freckles who barely reaches my chin, her cheeks getting a tad redder, and I ready myself internally for a tongue-lashing followed by an invitation to leave the premises as soon as I'm able to, which is right the fuck now,-

-until a voice echoes, silencing every other noise and making the girls present go ramrod straight.

"Quiet." a girl simply utters, and even I got some shudders from the authority of her tone, prompting me to turn myself toward the speaker-

-only for my eyes to land on a girl of roughly the same size as I, with middle of the back chestnut hair, brown eyes giving off a steady, steely gaze currently solely locked on me, a sharp face set in a neutral mien, arms crossed under the, admittedly, third largest bust I've ever seen in two lifetimes -which, considering the first two belongs to people with both a foot and species firmly in the supernatural, is saying something for what I assume is a baseline human-, her head tilted and an eyebrow raised skyward.

Luckily, I have done some research before coming here, so I more or less know who this is.

I give her the trademark Japanese half-bow of introduction.

"Hanako Prima, well met, Koryu-Buchou." I greet the current club captain, as of now a third year in Kuoh High-School, Koryu Sakura, "I'm sorry to intrude, I had hoped to take the lay of the land, see if the Kendo club would be open to take me in come next week."

"What! No way in-" someone starts, surprise coating their tone, before their Anger starts to leak through both her voice and in the Immaterium.

"Enough!" Kyoru-Buchou barks, and I see in the corner of my eyes the previous speaker goes mum, which, sheesh, how much of a slave-driver the club captain is if they all fear her like the angry fist of god?

After giving another gimlet eye to the recent offender of her well-oiled machine, the club captain huffs, before straightening her whole posture and stepping closer to me, arms still crossed under her bust, a hint of her Curiosity leaking in the space of primordial psychic-soul stuff.

She only stops herself when she's three steps away from me, a considering hum leaving her lips.

"You stand like a warrior." she comments with certainty, which prompts me to raise an eyebrow in surprise.

"Growing up in the military does tend to do that, I'm afraid." I answer reflexively, my brain-mouth filter short-circuiting for a beat.

An aborted snort of laughter escapes her nose, and I'm instantly a bit jealous because she does it in a way more elegant fashion that I could ever hope to pull off.

Wait, why does that even bother me?

I don't even have the time to internally comment on it further before Koryu-Bushou asks me a question.

Or, more like, states the obvious.

"You got into a fight yesterday: why?"

Alright, I know this is an all-girl school, but, come on, is everybody already in the know?

That's some crazy level of gossiping right there, or maybe it was the case in my previous schools/university and I've never really paid attention, who knows?

My eyes narrow, tHe WhIsPeRs singing quietly along myself in Defiance.

"To stand up for myself, to not be a doormat, and because I loath bullies with every fiber of my being." I answer succinctly, eyes locked with the -admittedly rather stunning now that I have taken a good look- club captain.

For a beat, you can hear a pin drop, the silence so thick as we stare at each other that it almost becomes uncomfortable.

"Good." Koryu-Buchou finally drops, her mouth quirking upward in a tight smile, "You'll get a spot, I'll make sure of it."

"Buchou!" the same mousy brunette cries, positively aghast-

-only to get cut by the club captain once again.

"Tell me, Masori, do you know that my little sister happens to go to the same school as Yaozora-san went?" she starts conversationally, prompting everyone else to shut up while I inwardly startle.

Talk about a coincidence, not.

"She also happened to tell me what the heiress was getting up to, in the upper years. To put it bluntly: the bitch got what was coming for her." she plainly states, making a few of the girls gasp, probably at her using rude words, if I have to guess, "And so, my decision is final, although…" she trails off, eyeing me consideringly.

Well, the whole thing has been mightily convenient for me up to now, so I guess now is the time for the other shoe to drop.

"Yes, Koryu-Buchou?" I ask, already having an inkling as to where all of this is going.

"I know that club activities only start next week, but would you mind terribly if you started lending a hand from today on? We could use the help getting the club ready for next week's applications." she explains mildly.

I sigh internally, because that's one hundred percent the sort of invitation you can't really refuse.

I shrug off my school bag, before giving her a nod and the answer she clearly expects.

"I'd be happy to help."

Koryu-Buchou grins, her Satisfaction cloying her like a cape.

God save me from slave-drivers seemingly taking an interest in me.

Ah, I forgot: he can't, because he's dead.

Guess I'm shit out of luck on that front, then.

I rise from my meditation mat thingy, massaging a kink in my neck with a frown, Skully shutting his hologram down without me prompting him to do so.

I had kept thinking about the dream I had last night throughout the day, and had just tried to take a deeper, if careful, look into the local Immaterium, in a bid to glimpse an answer.

But it was still as void of activity and immediate enlightenment as it has been since I've landed here.

Granted, I vastly preferred it that way: better the sea of thoughts and souls be calm in its ebs and flows rather than the absolute clusterfuck it was in the W40K setting itself.

For now, I hadn't ventured further in the deeper stratums, only keeping to the one I was connected to, in parts because I lacked the skills to pull it off, sanctioned Psykers not being given the how-to guide to truly delve in the home of the Great Enemies -I wonder why- and because I was understandably leery of doing so.

If I remembered correctly, even the most knowledgeable one of the four transdimensional pricks was scared shitless of what delved deep in the Warp, so I was going to shelve that until I was very big and swole, Psyker-ly speaking, and, above all else, able to run away from the Immaterium real quick, real fast if I ever caught the interest of something lurking at the threshold.

Of course, there was still the possibility that all of this had come into existence with my arrival here, but I wasn't really counting on it.

This wouldn't explain, after all, the sheer number of thoughts and souls I was swimming through as soon as I let go of my focus.

Which didn't make sense, not really, in a world where afterlifes were a canonically proven thing, and gods were traipsing around, as well as a myriad of fantastical creatures, both good and bad.

I had the feeling that I was missing something, and that I'd probably have a moment of startled realization in the future when everything came together.

Huffing in annoyance, and giving a grateful pat to Skully, I started making my way back into my little home proper and toward my bedroom -having, for once, taken the time to eat before getting lost into reviewing what I knew of the Warp and my capabilities-, carefully closing the Basement's door behind me.

I was settling into a routine, I muse as I make my way up the stairs, one that should do me loads of good if I manage to keep at it, and even possibly allow me to avoid getting swept up in canon's shenanigans once it starts.

…It was a bit cowardly, yes, especially since I literally befriended what I knew for fact to be the female lead of the show I got transmigrated into, but dear ol' Uncle Ben wasn't actually right with his speech about great powers implying great responsibilities.

Great powers are just that, great powers, and I'd simply be happy not using those in a dickish manner, or only in self-defense, rather than trap myself into a martyr/savior complex like a certain spider-themed superhero.

…I wanted some modicum of happiness in my life, for once, and shouldering the world's various burdens simply because I could wasn't conducive to it.

Or it could be, but only if you were so fucking strong that nothing started rating beyond the level of 'waste of my time' in your perception.

Only, it was also a trap of sorts, because then you'd lose touch with your humanity, or more accurately with the rest of human-, no, sapientkind as a whole, because godlike levels of might implies godlike status, and a mindset that inevitably starts to shift in a direction I am not a fan of.

And, if I was perfectly honest, I wasn't sure that it was the outcome that I wanted.

Flicking the light of my ensuite bathroom on, I made my way toward the sink, my hand absentmindedly closing around the handle of my toothbrush, the other getting the toothpaste, my reflections showing furrowed brows as I kept woolgathering.

I knew what being a Psyker meant, what it meant to be intricately connected to something that could potentially shift and move to the rhythm of faith and belief.

I knew how it could end, how I could possibly end, especially if this world ran along the tropes I was expecting it to.

…And I would have to set up some forms of countermeasures, just in case, because I didn't want to lose myself.

Even if I was starting to doubt I ever really knew myself in the first place.

Spitting the toothpaste out, before gurgling some water, I end my 'getting ready to sleep' routine by discarding my clothes distractedly in the nearby dirty laundry bin -one of the things that stayed the same across dimensions being my tendency to sleep in the nude-, before throwing myself one last glance in the mirror.

Unbidden, and before I can catch myself, I aim at my reflection a cheeky wink, one hip cocked, before instantly flushing, about-facing and making my way back into my bedroom proper after shutting the lights off.

Later.

Sleep, now.

[AN: Early chappy because I'm probably going to go out tonight.

We introduce the kendo club, and notably the current club captain, and some modicum of good luck falls in Prima's lap.

We also get a deeper insight into what she thinks about all of this, beyond 'Need to get strong before shit hits the fan' and an inkling as to her true goals.

Hope you enjoy, xoxo]