Hisashi woke up the next morning and got ready for the day. Taking a quiet walk around the yard, he found himself deep in thought.
'If my memories serve me right, this could be the world of DxD. What's confusing is how far behind canon I seem to be...
Judging by the fashion and language, maybe it's hundreds of years before canon. Possibly during the Civil War—since devils openly attacked us five years ago.'
He stopped in front of a sakura tree. Its leaves fluttered down, some landing on his toned body, others settling in his golden hair. Lying down on the grass, he continued pondering.
'I should try copying some moves from the anime I remember: Kamehameha, Destructo Disk, a couple of Kidos… but those require spiritual power.
Damn, I still have work to do. He shook the frustration from his head—it was just giving him a headache.' Closing his eyes, he began circulating his Ki, trying to understand his body's pathway system.
'I should adapt a cultivation system. It's the only path I know that guarantees immortality. First, I need to choose one I can actually manage.
I don't know how I'll get resources for realms like the Open Heaven Realm from Martial Peak. Creating my own system is another option… but it sounds like a pain. Risky, too.'
After thinking for some time, he decided to take a nap. It was pleasant for a while—until he suddenly woke up.
His nose twitched, catching a scent that made his mouth water.
'What is that smell?'
He followed it instinctively, turned a corner, and found the source: his mother, clad in a purple kimono, cooking.
"What are you making, Mother?" he asked, walking toward her.
"Oh? You're already here. Your obsession with food never ceases to amaze me." She chuckled softly.
"Food is food, Mom. Can't live without it," he replied with a sigh, making her raise an eyebrow.
"Who told you that?"
"My stomach did."
"Ookay…" She looked tired but smiled wryly at his deadpan tone.
This sort of exchange was common between them. At first, she had been thrown off by his modern-day antics, but over time, she'd grown used to them. That was just her son.
They ate together, chatting casually.
"Mom, have you ever thought of leaving the village?"
"Not really. I have no business elsewhere. This has been my home for years."
"And it always will be. I was asking because I need a sword to practice with."
"Hisashi, where are you getting these ideas?" She seemed to have gotten a lot more sluggish when she asked.
"Well, some people have been coming into the village and threatening us with swords. It's only fair I get one too."
After releasing a long sigh, she faxed up at the sky. "Why did the gods bless me with such a reckless child?"
'Hey, I'm not reckless at all. Every anime fan dreams of wielding a sword—he was just following tradition.' Sure, he couldn't get a Zanpakuto or Excalibur or Avalon, but he'd find something just as strong in this world.
He just needed a blacksmith who could pull off such a feat. Until then, a regular blade would do for practice.
"You should at least learn how to wield one properly," she warned. "Otherwise, you might fall on it instead."
"Blasphemy!" he declared. He could handle a sword just fine—so long as it wasn't mythological. If it was...
'Maybe she's right. I don't want to think in that direction.' He chuckled wryly, realizing he was already second-guessing himself.
"Instead of denying facts, you can help me with the dishes."
"When did you get lazy?"
"IDIOT!! I GAVE BIRTH TO YOU!"
"Okay, okay, I'm just fooling around." He laughed, watching her frown. Annoying people was oddly satisfying.
*Thud!*
Then she hit him on the head. Something she ended up regretting.
"What is your skull made of—bricks?" she asked, holding her glowing red hand with watery eyes. He couldn't see her face; she had turned away.
"I inherited everything from you," he said blandly.
"I was never this hard-headed," she shot back, raising an eyebrow.
"I'll go complete the task you've given me, Mother." He exited and shut the door.
"Oww… Okay, something's up with that child." No matter how much she thought about it, a kid's head shouldn't be that hard.
She was growing suspicious. He did strange things daily. His strength was abnormal—he once accidentally punched a hole through a tree. At first, she thought he was just strong. But this? This was something else. This was the second time it had happened—first with a slap on the shoulder, and now this.
Meanwhile, the culprit sat under a tree, chin resting on his hand, eyes narrowed.
'I don't have a thickening ability. So… am I awakening? That was the only conclusion he could come to. How else can I explain this?'
The thought excited him. His blood boiled with anticipation. He didn't want to wait—but he had to.
"I better start my session." He began meditating. Hours passed, yet he lost all sense of time. For the first time since arriving in this world, he felt truly at peace.
Something flowed—no, circulated—within his body and soul. He couldn't quite grasp it yet…
Then, the peace shattered.
"HISASHI!! GET UP AND LET'S GO!!"
"For crying out loud! Can't you shut your damn beak for once?!" he shouted, his face twisted in irritation. That was the first time he'd been so deep in meditation—and it took hours.
Judging by Hisashi's expression, the other person knew he'd made a mistake.
Let's just say Hisashi spotted a fault in his friend's system and gave him a hard reset—by smacking him on the head.
"Ouch!!" The other party had a huge bump on his scalp.
"Maybe that'll reboot your brain, you moron!"
"I was just trying to wake you up… Wait—no! Not the face!"
That smirk Hisashi wore? Yeah, nothing good ever followed that.
He grabbed a rope, tugging it playfully as he approached. Moments later, the guy's hands and legs were tied.
"Now… where's that stick?" he muttered while scratching his head. The others watched, sweatdropping.
"Demon," Asami whispered.
"Never wake him while he's meditating," Shinji muttered.
They silently agreed. Asami almost made the same mistake—but now, she knew better.
"Please untie me! I won't do it again!"
"How can I be sure? You're the noisy one!"
"I'll be quiet, I swear!"
"Hmph. You're lucky I'm too soft."
'Don't pretend to be an angel after all that!' they both thought but didn't dare say aloud.
"So, what were you guys up to?" Hisashi asked while untying Kaito.
"Well, we were thinking of exploring the village. You in?"
"Sure, why not," he said with a shrug. A break sounded nice.
"Let's go, then!"
Before leaving, he stopped by the kitchen to tell his mom where he'd be. She was glad he was spending time with friends instead of isolating himself.
'Ouch.'
Walking down the road with his friends, a whirlwind of scents hit him all at once. It was too much—so many food stalls. Takoyaki was everywhere.
He gave in. He may have visited more than a few stalls.
The others just watched, stunned.
"If we keep standing here, there won't be any food left." Kaito took off in Hisashi's direction.
"At this rate, the shops will close." Asami facepalmed for the umpteenth time that day. "A glutton… where the hell is all that food going? His stomach isn't bulging!"
"Beats me. I don't get why he's not fat." Shinji calmly stood there. He would rather not partake in any of their nonsense.
The blonde had a bulging stomach. Okay, fine. Maybe he went a little overboard. But could you blame him? Eating wasn't just survival—it was his purpose.
That, and chasing down heavenly beauties in this world.
If he had to guess, they were in the 17th or 18th century… meaning canon was still three or four centuries away.
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