Next day
The morning light filtered through the curtains of Hiro's room, casting soft shadows on the walls. His alarm clock hadn't yet gone off, but he slowly opened his eyes, a strange sensation weighing on his body. An invisible weight, a diffuse heat that ran through his back and arms.
His mind slowly emerged from the fog of sleep. Memories of the night before came back abruptly: the suffocating smell of grilled meat, the uncontrollable panic, the hasty run to the bathroom, then Issei and his friends who had found him in a pitiful state. He gritted his teeth. He had lost control.
He exhaled slowly and sat up in bed. His body felt… different. Heavier, as if he were carrying something he couldn't see. A cold sweat covered his back, and a vague throbbing pain spread up his spine, as if something was embedded inside him.
Snap.
He stood up and headed to the bathroom. A quick shower would help him wake up. The water ran over his skin, soothing, washing away the remnants of the night's cold sweat. But as he stepped out of the shower and grabbed his towel, his gaze fell on the mirror.
He stopped short.
His eyes widened. A huge black tattoo stretched across his chest, shoulders, and arms, down to his wrists. A serpentine dragon, with eight intertwined heads, seemed to be coiling around his body, each head displaying a ferocious expression. The detail of the drawing was so precise that it gave the impression of being alive.
Hiro felt his breath quicken. He ran a trembling hand over his skin.
It wasn't an illusion.
He rubbed vigorously, but the marks remained intact, as if engraved in him. His heart was pounding. What was that?
He pulled back slightly, his eyes still fixed on his reflection. His mind tried to analyze the situation, but nothing made sense. He tried to apply soap, to scratch with his nails, but nothing changed. It was as if these marks had always been there, even a part of his flesh.
And suddenly, he heard it.
"Pitiful."
Hiro jumped, looking around. The voice had not resonated in the room, but in his mind.
"Such a weak body… and it's inside you that I'm trapped?"
He clenched his fists, his breath short. A deep, serious voice, filled with contempt and overwhelming superiority.
"…Who's there?"
A cold laugh echoed in his mind.
"Finally, you're listening."
Hiro narrowed his eyes. He wasn't dreaming. Someone, or rather… something, was speaking directly to him in his mind.
"Who are you?" he asked in a measured voice, hiding his confusion.
A silence. Then an answer, implacable.
"I am Yamata no Orochi, divine and destructive dragon. And you… you are an insect carrying my burden."
Hiro felt a crushing pressure weigh on his skull. It wasn't just a voice, it was a presence. Something ancient, powerful, and above all arrogant.
But instead of panicking, he remained still, analyzing the situation.
"Yamata no Orochi..." he murmured. The name was familiar.
His father had once told him of old legends, ancient scrolls about dragons and immortal beings. One of them mentioned an eight-headed serpent, a fallen god, a monster destroyed by Susanoo.
"You know my name. But that doesn't change your insignificance."
Hiro took a deep breath. He was caught up in something beyond his control, but he had to understand.
"Why are you inside me?"
A silence, as if the dragon were sizing him up. Then, with icy amusement:
"Because fate has a sense of humor."
Hiro felt a migraine rise at the base of his skull. It was all absurd.
"What do you want?"
A low laugh echoed in his mind.
"It's not me who wants something, human. It's you who awakened me."
The tattoo on his skin seemed to vibrate slightly, pulsing like a living mark. Hiro then felt a subtle change: a wave of energy, weak but undeniable, ran through his body. It was as if a long-dormant force had just awakened.
"Weak. Pathetic. If I could, I would crush you myself for daring to contain me in such a fragile being."
Hiro closed his eyes for a second, trying to contain a shiver. It wasn't just a voice, it was a living being, an entity locked inside him.
He exhaled slowly before reopening his eyes.
"And now?"
Silence settled for a second. Then, for the first time, Hiro thought he heard a slight curiosity in the dragon's tone.
"And now... you're going to have to learn to survive, human."
The tattoo on his skin seemed to come to life for a moment, and Hiro knew he had crossed a point of no return.
A heavy silence fell between Hiro and the ancient voice that echoed in his mind. He had no doubts anymore, this was neither a dream nor a hallucination.
"Hmph. Since you insist, miserable human, listen carefully. Perhaps your insignificant existence can find some semblance of usefulness."
Hiro frowned. The dragon's tone was smug, almost mocking, but he knew that getting upset would do no good. He took a deep breath and prepared himself to listen.
"You live in the illusion of a human world. But beneath this facade, three great powers have been fighting for millennia."
"A long time ago, the world was dominated by beings that your species worshiped as gods. Among them, three factions opposed each other in a conflict that marked supernatural history: the Angels, the Demons, and the Fallen Angels."
Hiro remained silent, absorbing each word, but a dull frustration was growing inside him. He hadn't asked for any of this.
"At the head of the Angels was God himself, creator of many artifacts, including the Sacred Gears. His role was to impose order and exterminate any threat that went against his will. But his arrogance led him to underestimate his opponents."
A pause, then Orochi continued, his voice filled with obvious contempt.
"Facing him stood Lucifer, the first of the Demons, a being as powerful as he was ambitious. He led Hell with his followers, opposing his empire to the heavens. As for the Fallen Angels, they were those who had been rejected from the heavens for abandoning their faith and succumbing to their desires. Under the orders of Azazel, their leader, they were neither on the side of God nor Lucifer, preferring to impose themselves as an independent faction."
Hiro nodded slightly, taking in the information, but his expression hardened.
"This war had no winners. God and Lucifer perished, leaving their factions divided. The Fallen Angels, on the other hand, watched in silence, manipulating the survivors to preserve their own power. Since then, a fragile balance has been established... but nothing lasts forever."
A shiver ran down Hiro's spine. God... was dead?
But more than this revelation, it was anger that invaded him. Not at Orochi. Not at this invisible world he was discovering. But at the simple fact that he was forced to be involved in it.
"Why are you telling me all this?" he snapped.
"Because now, you're part of it."
"No." The answer was immediate, sharp. Hiro stared at his reflection, his gaze cold. "I don't care. All this… It's not my problem."
A silence. Then a low, mocking laugh.
"Fine. You refuse to accept it. It won't change anything."
"You talk as if all this makes sense to me, as if it changes anything. But you don't understand, do you?"
Orochi didn't answer immediately, letting Hiro continue.
"I don't want this power. I don't want to be involved in this war and faction stuff. I just want… to live in peace."
"Live in peace?" Orochi repeated the words with barely veiled mockery. "You carry my essence and you dare talk about peace? This world will never give you the chance."
Hiro looked away from the mirror. He knew Orochi was right. Even though all this was beyond him, the mere fact that this tattoo had appeared proved that he was already drawn into something he could not control.
"You can close your eyes and convince yourself that nothing will change. But believe me, human, you will understand for yourself that the peace you desire is nothing more than an illusion."
Hiro clenched his fists, a mixture of frustration and helplessness invading him.
"And what do you want me to do?"
A silence. Then Orochi answered, in a more calm tone, but still imbued with his natural superiority.
"I don't care about your decisions. But even if you close your eyes, the truth will impose itself on you. Observe. And when the time comes when everything collapses around you, you will understand."
Hiro did not answer. He just stared at his reflection in the mirror, feeling that no matter how much he rejected this world, he wouldn't escape his destiny.
Orochi murmured one last sentence before fading away momentarily.
"You may refuse the truth, but it will never leave you in peace."
Silence had settled after the conversation with Yamata no Orochi. Hiro had stopped trying to understand, to analyze, to argue. He had simply accepted that this tattoo would not go away, that this arrogant voice now lived in his head. He couldn't do anything about it. But that didn't mean he was going to change his life because of it.
Without another word, he got up and got ready for his day. The cold water he ran over his face didn't erase the heaviness in his skull, nor the strange sensation that ran down his back. He put on his uniform, buttoned his shirt up to the collar to mask what he now wore on his skin, then left his apartment, ignoring the voice that still floated somewhere in his mind.
The journey to Kuoh Academy was uneventful. Everything seemed normal. No one looked at him differently, no one noticed the invisible weight he carried. This was what he wanted. He just had to follow his usual routine and everything would be fine.
But as he entered the classroom, a wave of dizziness hit him. A cold shiver ran down his spine and he had to lean against his desk for a moment, his breathing slightly ragged. His tattoo pulsed faintly, as if responding to an external force.
"Tss... That was to be expected," Orochi's voice whispered in his mind.
Hiro closed his eyes briefly. "What is it?"
"Another dragon," Orochi replied with some irritation. "He's here. Close. I can't tell which one, but his power resonates with mine."
Hiro turned his head slightly, observing the class without showing any emotion. He didn't know who this "other dragon" was, but his body was reacting in spite of himself. He took a deep breath, regaining his composure. He wouldn't let anything show.
Issei POV
On the other side of the room, Issei, who had been relaxed until then, straightened up slightly. He had felt a strange pressure, a shiver that was not normal. Ddraig, the Red Dragon, murmured in his mind.
"Hmm... Another dragon-type Sacred Gear is nearby. I can feel it."
Issei looked around, his brows slightly furrowed. He scanned the room but didn't see anyone particularly suspicious. He tried to ignore the feeling, but something told him that it wasn't just a coincidence.
Hiro, for his part, continued his morning as if nothing had happened, perfectly mastering his mask of indifference. He ignored the subtle twinges that ran down his back, keeping his breathing steady and his expression calm. He didn't know who this host of another dragon was, and frankly, he didn't care. It wasn't his problem.
But Issei, for his part, couldn't just ignore that. When the break came, he left the classroom quickly, crossing the corridors with a determined step. He knew where to go.
He quickly left the crowded corridors of the school, his mind still focused on this strange sensation. He hesitated for a second before finally heading towards the Occult Club.
Arriving in front of the door, he knocked once before entering.
Inside, a quiet atmosphere reigned. The subtle scent of the tea Akeno was making hung in the air, mingling with the faint scent of the old books stacked in the Club's library.
Rias and Akeno were already there. Koneko was sitting in the corner, munching on a cookie, and Kiba was reading a book quietly.
Rias looked up at him. "You look worried, Issei."
He ran a hand through his hair, slightly annoyed. "Yeah... I just felt something weird in class. Ddraig said there's another dragon-type Sacred Gear nearby. It wasn't here before."
Rias raised an eyebrow slightly. "Another dragon, you say?"
Akeno placed a hand on his cheek, an intrigued smile on her lips. "This is getting interesting."
Kiba closed his book. "If it's a Sacred Gear, it could mean that a new important element has appeared."
Rias thought for a moment. She already knew that a new student had transferred in recently. If this student had a powerful Sacred Gear, it made sense to identify him before someone else did.
"We need to find out for sure," she said. "Sona must have noticed something already. I'll talk to her about it."
Hiro POV
The end of the day came faster than expected. Hiro was about to go home when a student from the Student Council came to see him.
"Sona Shitori wants to see you in her office. Come with me."
Hiro didn't show any surprise. He simply nodded and followed without arguing. As he entered the office, he immediately felt that something was different.
Sona Sitri was there, sitting at her desk, her fingers intertwined in front of her. Next to her, leaning against the wall with a calm but piercing smile, was Rias Gremory.
Hiro glanced briefly at each of them before settling down in front of them, his expression still neutral.
Sona spoke first. "Hiro, we have a few questions to ask you."
Hiro didn't answer immediately. He already knew that this conversation wouldn't be trivial.
He didn't show any signs of anxiety, but inwardly, he was analyzing every detail. Sona's tone was measured, but he could sense a hint of curiosity. Rias, for her part, displayed the same calculating smile, that of someone who already knew something important.
Something told him that this was just the beginning