Kapitel 930: Fighting Spirit by Alex357
Summary:
A girl, born with memories of her past life, seeks to survive in a harsh world thought to be nothing more than a story. Coming to terms with her new life and new nature she carves her own path in the world, hopefully finding purpose along the way. Self-insert [SI] as an Oni in DxD. Starts pre-canon but will gradually reach canon.
This story was originally posted over on Questionable Questing and I've recently decided to bring it over here as well. The story is still ongoing and I plan to upload any new chapters on both sites simultaneously.
Chapter 1: Born of Blood and BoneChapter Text
I've spent a lot of time contemplating what would become of me after my death. I'm sure I'm not special in that regard. The choices presented to us by the varying faiths always seemed so… empty, pointless, futile.
Heaven; eternal bliss, being without hunger, sadness, pain, all the ailments that befall man. Yet without those ailments, what would we have to measure our happiness? Where is the relief of being sated without the hunger it chases away? What heights of pleasure can one reach without pain to temper their lives?
Likewise Hell; eternal damnation, hunger without end, pain without relief, no end to suffering in a myriad of forms. How could one retain their sanity long enough to suffer? The mind is the foundation of the soul or at least its expression through the mortal coil is it not? If the mind can fracture why can't the soul if that is the only relief one can achieve?
Reincarnation; lives without end, the cyclical expression of the boundless soul, the grinding away of one's sins on the wheel of Samsara. What would be the point in existence after death if our identity is washed away? How can I truly better myself if I no longer know my faults? If I can't remember who I was am I not someone new? In what world does one have time to debate Karma when they are struggling to survive?
And what of science; this is the only life you'll ever live and that's fine because after is only oblivion. When your body or mind can no longer hold itself together you simply cease to exist. If that's the truth then what is the point of existence in the first place? To reproduce and birth another poor being into a dead world? One who will also only be able to carry that torch to the next generation and so on until Humanity's time comes to an end. All to simply perpetuate a species with no real future.
Even with this hopeless path; we live, we learn, we make bonds, and cherish them. We fight for another year, month, hour, minute, second. We claw and crawl our way just to see the light of the next dawn no matter what adversity we face. So when I awoke in a new life, an unexpected second chance, that's what I did. I grabbed hold of that fighting spirit and roared my defiance to this cruel world of Gods and Monsters.
The first year of my second life was a blur. The mind of an infant simply isn't developed enough for more than instinct. My life felt more like a fleeting dream than actual existence, yet the longer this dream progressed the more lucid I became. As my body developed my mind was able to perceive parts of my surroundings. The warmth of my mother, the sound of her voice, the sharpness of her nails, the dull pain at the crown of my head, the scent, the flavor of copper never fading, and never failing to make my teeth itch or my stomach ache.
Then I noticed my mother spoke Japanese; sounding formal and old, always calling me Musume, daughter. The redness of her skin was a permanent blush. That I hadn't once seen my father. That there weren't any plastics in use, nothing modern. Over time I figured I was in feudal Japan and my father was busy with work. How wrong I was.
Just before my first birthday, I was able to walk and had begun learning Japanese from what little my mother said to me. She was always distant so I had yet to attempt to speak. Call me vindictive but I wanted my father to be the first one to hear me speak. My mother was… odd looking. Her skin was a light red rather than what I was expecting. Mine was fair. Her hair which I thought was black was tinged in red, just enough to notice. Mine was bleached white. These I could brush off as cosmetic products from the era being used to achieve the desired aesthetic. What I couldn't brush off were the nails that resembled claws, the sharpened teeth, and the thin horns that poked out of the crown of her head. And I knew I had those same features, I had felt them.
Where before I thought her distant lately she stepped it up further with me rarely seeing her except for when she had to feed me or bathe me. She hadn't even said a word to me in over a week, I was beginning to fear for what would come next. My mind came up with horrible scenarios, like her abandoning me or even killing me. Perhaps she had wanted a male child and thought she could bear it for a time. Whatever I had thought reality was worse.
On the day of my first birthday, my mother took me out of our house for the first time. Hopefully, it was to get food because I hadn't been fed in days and I was starving. The village was nice in a way. I had always found historical Japanese architecture to be beautiful but this village was on another level. Artful buildings colored in bright whites and reds lined the streets we walked. As my mother carried me further up the mountain to what I assume is the temple the world became more beautiful yet the all-pervasive scent of copper grew stronger.
After passing through the Torii and walking to the Honden I noticed how many people were gathered here. There were hundreds and all had the same odd features mother and I had but varied in color. Inside the Honden instead of a statue of a Kami or a mirror was a pit. Around the pit were other mothers holding infants and dread welled up inside me. This isn't a temple to the Gods, this is a temple to blood.
One by one we were placed in the pit then we waited. Lowered into the center of the pit was a man in chains, he looked as though he was on death's door, that a light wind would knock him over, yet in his eyes wasn't resignation but mania. The other children were sniffing the air and I realized we hadn't been fed because he was to be our food; he knew it too and wasn't going to roll over and die. When he reached the floor of the pit his shackles released. He stared at the shackles in disbelief for a moment and at that moment the children zeroed in on their meal. They started moving slowly, on shaky limbs circling, drool dripping from their mouths, eyeing their prey. He in contrast was still, full of nervous energy, vision leaping from the monsters around him. I was still seated, processing this.
When I glanced at the top I saw the parents and the crowd all talking and laughing as though this was amusing. This wasn't anything shocking to them this was simply life, and I had a choice to kill or starve, to eat or die. My hands are shaking but they aren't the hands of a child. They are those of a monster. The scent comes back and I look to the man. He's unharmed but over to the side, one of the children has attacked another. I can't help but stare as it tears into the other; I'm unable to distinguish the two through the splashes of blood and the jerky movement, the piercing wails, and the animalistic grunts. When both stop moving I realize they killed each other, two lives already gone in this pit.
Bile rises in my throat as a third comes along to cannibalize the departed. The two others, besides myself, are focused on the man and within a few feet of him. He lashes out with a kick that collides with one which lands in a twitching heap. I'm not sure if it's dead but don't have time to contemplate as the other rakes its claws along the man's leg. He howls in agony as he falls to his knees but is able to backhand the demon out of the way. Ah, they are demons, I must be in hell after all. As I brush my tongue along my teeth and taste the blood in the air I know that's a lie as well. I'm a demon too after all. The third demon has moved from the bodies of the others presumably to investigate this new scent. Like an animal, it crosses the distance on all fours and leaps for the man's throat. He reacts and grasps it from the air, throwing it at the other one which started to get back up.
By now I've walked over to the fresh corpses of my kind. They hardly even look like they were living creatures anymore. All that's left is a pile of meat, blood, and bone. My attention seems to have lapsed for a while as the man has since killed another and received more wounds in the process. His one eye is now blinded and one of his hands has been ripped off at the forearm. Even now he still struggles. A rib bone is sticking out of the pile of blood before me. Stark white, long, and sharp; it looks like a weapon, a sword, a choice.
These monsters above me are still carrying on as though nothing has happened but anticipation hangs in the air. As my gaze sweeps through the crowd I see an older demon staring directly into my eyes. He nods at me as though prodding me onward; grab that weapon his eyes say, follow this blood-stained path till the very end. Or perhaps I'm simply justifying what's about to happen. I want to live and every living being in this pit barres my path from seeing a new dawn.
I reach down and tear the rib out from the corpse and flick the blood off it. Turning around to where the final two combatants are embroiled in their struggle I make a detour and finish off the child still twitching on the floor. At this point, death is a mercy for it. The man rams the little demon into the ground, again and again. It seems he's started crying. I think he knows that even if he kills us all he still dies. As he drops the corpse in his lone hand he slumps and stares at me with one dead eye. He looks me over before his gaze hardens. In a show of pure will, he pulls himself to his feet, towering over me.
I start to pick up speed. Feet moving into a run for their first time in this life, lungs filling with tainted air, bone swinging in my fist. As I reach him He kicks out but I manage to sidestep, dragging the bone across his leg as I move under him. The change in his balance added to the new gash on his leg means he falls backward. I barely manage not to get crushed as I hear the thud of his body hitting the dirt. Pushing through the dust I dodge a wild punch by instinct alone and snarl. His arm comes back around to slap me away but I point the bone at his hand and brace myself. With a wet crunch, his hand is impaled upon the bone, and his blood sprays over my face and hands. Over my panting, I hear him groan and sob. Discarding the bone I crawl onto his chest and look him in the eyes. I take a moment and imprint his face into my memory. The first human that I've stained my hands with. Innocent and fighting for survival just like me. I gently grasp his face in my hands and try to express my regret, his glare never weakens. Then, I twist.
Hopping on the platform I'm slowly drawn up out of the pit. As I look down at the corpses inside I feel hollow. What did I do in my past life to deserve this fate? Did I just fail a test from God or was I abandoned by them long ago? When I reach the top I see nothing but smiling faces. I see the other mothers smiling at me as though I hadn't lived while their children died. I see the old man giving me a small grin. I see my mother beaming and crying tears of joy. I see demons, monsters, Oni my mind supplies. My mother runs over and sweeps me into her arms, laughing and getting blood all over her kimono.
"Daughter I knew you would win, I knew you were special. Always, so smart, so strong. Come, the elder will give you a name now. You are a member of the clan now. Our future." I can't help but think that their future died in that pit. How I want nothing more than to tear everyone here to shreds. To end these vile creatures who make play at being people. But I can't so I sit.
As my mother raises me to the elder like I'm fucking Simba I let loose a snarl, "Oh, such a lively one you've raised Asuga-chan." He chuckles genially as if there wasn't just a slaughter below. "I had thought she was a goner sitting in the corner at the beginning. Her eyes, however, so sharp. And improvising a weapon, truly inspired. She needs a strong name, for a strong child. Homura? No that won't work, how about Kaida?" I stew in rage as they idly chat about names and as they continue I plan. I need to stay alive if I plan to destroy them, I also need to become strong enough to do so. I'll train harder than anyone ever before, become stronger than anyone before, then slaughter them all. "Perhaps, Saku?"
Tired and angry I growl, gaining their attention, then pointing at myself I speak my first words in this world, "Ibaraki."
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein