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Jett Hideaki

"Do you even know how to be silent?"

0 · 699 views · located in Japan

a character in “Katekyo Hitman REBORN!: Undying Will”, as played by toajojo



"Why don't you shut the fuck up about her, and get out of my face. I am going to kick your ass in a second."



      Jett Shotaru Hideaki

      He has quite a few around school all variations of demon. Speed demon, in reference to his basketball skills. Blue Demon and Demon of the upperclassmen. Referencing his unique hair color and age respectively.




      Senior in high school

      Jett is often seen as imposing at first glance. Wait, take that back. He is still quite imposing even after one gets to know him. Towering over many at 6'1" and weighing a healthy 190 pounds, he is quite a big guy. His broad frame is literally covered with large, taut muscles. But Jett is not large and bulky in a bodybuilder's sense. He is more lean, like a swimmer. Which makes sense as he swam competitively with Roni for years. Navy blue eyes are constantly narrowed, observing the idiots around him. The same shade of blue as his messy hair. Both providing a unique contrast with his darker skin tone. Thin lips are usually tugged into a slight frown, but other than that, he prefers sadistic smirks, and crazed toothy grins.
      Jett does not particularly care for dressing himself up. He wears his school uniform, and his basketball clothes on a daily basis. But when just out and about or at home, he wears sweat pants. Just sweatpants. If the situation calls for it, he may reluctantly throw on a wife-beater.



      A scowl tugs at his lips and brows wrinkle in consternation. Sharp blue orbs glare into nothingness. His presence is naturally intimidating. Even when he is not necessarily meaning to scare anyone off. Though, Jett does not mind it too much nowadays. Finding the fact beneficial. He does not much like other people anyway. Too annoying, too loud, too clingy with no sense of boundaries.
      Jett has only a precious amount of self-control that he puts into use. It is very easy for one to prod him into a rage. He does not care much for things like patience, or toleration, or forgiveness. He will gift one curt warning. After that, whatever happens they have called down upon themselves. His motto, "Make them live to regret it." Though Jett is irritated most of the time, one will never hear him yell. He is not one to raise his voice as he does not need to in order to command obedience and instill fear.
      He may be scary, but he has a firm set of ethics. Jett does not threaten or fight children, women, or the elderly. If the situation calls for it, he will be silently chivalrous. He does not bully. The people he fights approached him first and purposely bothered him. He always gives a fair warning after all.

      • Competitions | Jett likes the rush. The adrenaline that you get when trying to beat someone. They are his main source of entertainment. Adds a feeling of excitement to his undeniable victory.
      • Basketball | His absolute favorite sport. He loves the pace and exhilaration of it all. For the past two years he has been considered the school team's most valuable player and for good reason.
      • Personal Space | Jett, like any other person enjoys his own personal space. He needs his own little area to move about. Stretch his arms and legs, which are quite long, without touching anything. Cause, if it was not obvious, Jett does not like people.

      • Loud People | Some people need to learn that silence does not always need to be filled. If one must, he can tolerate low chatter, but nothing that is going to ring in his ears. Jett enjoys the quiet, hearing himself think. And when people do not know how to control the volumes of their voices it becomes difficult.
      • Personal Questions | He rarely asks them and does not like being asked likewise. The inevitable question going through his mind will always be, why do you need to know?
      . He most likely will not answer. Instead choosing to tell them to "Fuck off."
      • Vulnerability | Weakness shown in people who need not be weak. Children, animals, and women are the exceptions. But men, men need to be strong. It just rubs him the wrong way when he sees a guy his age, or older, being a pansy. Makes him want to hit something.

      • Death | He would never say it aloud, but he fears death. Dying himself and watching someone else die. Despite some rumors, he has never beaten anyone to death. It makes him squeamish. There is nothing after death. Nothing at all.

      • Intimidation | It is quite the combination of things. His size, his constant frown and sharp eyes, foul language, and there is more but does it really matter? Jett is considered menacing. Ever since he was young. He has had years to get used to it and has. He even developed a liking towards it.
      • The Core Subjects | As in school subjects. Many think of Jett as just a meathead with a propensity for violence. But Jett actually makes some of the best grades in his classes. Straight A's for several years running. After all, they kick you off of school sports teams if you are not doing well scholastically.

      • Running || Jett is most definitely what one would consider an exercise junkie. It keeps him occupied and fit as a bonus. Running, is his favorite way to exercise though. He enjoys doing it in his free time. It is the best way to keep his excessive energy at bay.
      • Eating | That can be a hobby right? Jett is a big dude with a high metabolism. He needs food to survive. But it helps that he also just enjoys eating. Full blown meals or even just little snacks. The process is simply enjoyable, and Jet is the type who becomes agitated when he has not eaten recently.

      Heterosexual - Jett is only attracted to people of the opposite sex. Females.

      • Scary Face | He can not really control it. When Jett does not pay attention, his face always falls back to its default expression. Which, unfortunately is seen as cold and menacing. He does not mean it most of the time. Though it does help ward off unwanted company.
      • Tapping | Jett tends to tap his right foot when he is irritated or bored. The former occurs more often.


      • Weapon Improvisation | Jett is able to swiftly and easily create improvised weapons. Allowing him to pick up common things such as brooms, spoons, chairs, etc., and instantly use them effective offensive purposes.

      Jett prefers to fight with his bare hands, but understands that it can put him at a disadvantage. He is very adaptable though. If he feels he needs something, he does not mind grabbing an item from his immediate surroundings and creating a makeshift weapon. Jett will however apply padded bindings to his arms and legs for extra protection if he has enough time.

      None yet.

      • Fighting Style | Unlike, his sister, Jett's fighting technique is much more rigid and stiff. His stance low and weighted. Grounded, Jett has immense core strength that makes him almost impossible to knock down. He generally endures all that is thrown at him with deft blocks, until he chooses a moment to attack. When he does, it is quite devastating as his punches, swipes, and kicks are fluid yet crazy powerful.
      •As for flame oriented techniques, he has not coined any that he feels is unique.

      • Perceptive | It's hard for most things to slip anything by him. Though he may not say anything about it, or make any observable note that he's taken notice, it doesn't mean he hasn't seen what's been going on. He has a sensitivity to being involved with all that is around him; whether or not he chooses to be subtle about it is up to him.
      • Endurance | Jett is not lying when he says he knows how to take a hit. He's been knocked down, out, punched, kicked, stabbed (once). What can he say? He fights a lot. He definitely believes that with each situation he has gotten stronger, more experienced. Now those sort of things hardly phase him and it takes more and more effort to knock him off of his feet. But when one does, he will be back up in a second.
      •Strength | Jett has immense strength that belies his lean shape. Comparable to a bull. He is capable of lifting and carrying objects much larger than he, without tiring.

      • Sister | Roni is the only thing, Jett considers a weakness. He will never tell her. He takes his role as the elder sibling incredibly seriously. Her mental and physical well-being comes first. Jett can endure any physical trauma done to himself, but even the thought of harm coming to his younger sister will put him into a rage.
      • Headstrong | Jett can be irritatingly obstinate. If he has chosen a specific course of action, he is going to stick by it no matter what. Though, if he has recognized another as someone, above his own standing, he will step down. Albeit grudgingly.


      None, he has never held romantic feelings for anyone, ever.

      • Roni Mina Hideaki - His most adorable younger sister, whom he would protect with his life.
      • Julian Christopher Guinn - The Hideaki sibling's father. He abandoned the family when they were still very young, so his ex-wife removed his surname from their names.
      • Shikadai Kozato - The original heir to the Simon Famiglia. Was crippled in an altercation years back. Has gracefully given up his position to Jett.
      • Shizune Hanabi Hideaki - The mother of the Hideaki siblings. The second child of Enma Kozato, the 10th Simon boss. She grew up to become a well known spy for hire. Hideaki is only one of her many aliases. She was assassinated a few years ago.
      • Tsubaki Mei - The Hideaki siblings Godmother. She claimed guardianship over them when their mother passed and had them move into her home in Nanimori.

      The Hideaki siblings had a very isolated childhood. Residing on the outskirts of a rural town outside of the country. Their small town had very few children their age. And they rarely interacted with them. For a multitude of reasons. They were perceived as a strange family. Roni was too boisterous and came on too strong. Jett, even from that young of an age, was intimidating to be around. He rather disliked random people. Shizune, their mother, arrived late one night moving into the decrepit home on its outskirts, and rarely, if ever went into town. The townsfolk found her circumstances ominous.

      The siblings were content with their situation. They had each other all of the time. They were home schooled by their mother, who thought herself superior to the public school system. They learned a lot about a wide array of subjects. From the sciences, to literature, to plant and animal life, to close combat. Nether Roni nor Jett thought it strange as there was never anyone around to tell them so.

      At the ages of thirteen and eleven, their life took a bitter turn. Under the cover of night and storm, their home was invaded by a single intruder. An assassin who had come for their mother. Roni and Jett could only cower in the pantry and watch as she fought valiantly to protect herself and the children she kept hidden from the world. In the end, they both fell dead.

      It took quite some time to compose themselves, but they had instructions to follow from their now deceased mother. She had always warned them of something like this. In the past she was a spy, a darn good one at that. With a multitude of clientele, people she had spied on and stolen secrets from were no different from the ones who hired her. To her, it did not matter if she worked under one mafia family one day then sold their secrets the next. Over time she had gained a list of enemies and garnered much discord. So she changed her name again, and seemingly vanished from the world. Deep down she knew that they would find her and exact vengeance.

      The siblings disposed of the bodies and gathered any and all necessities. Hitting the road without leaving a trace, true t their mother's lessons. Their destination, their Godmother, who their mother managed to keep in contact with. Making it to her home in Nanimori, she took them in without a complaint and revealed to them the finer details of their heritage as per her friend's wishes.

      In these five years, the Hideaki siblings have been introduced to their long lost relatives of the Simon Famiglia. And have been steadily integrated into the fold. In the beginning there were feelings of wariness and resentment as they appeared out of the blue. But time had passed and everyone is on friendly terms for the most part. Roni and Jett have bonded the most with their elder brother, Shikadai, who held the title of heir before their arrival. The only son of the previous Simon boss' first child. Due to an accident years ago, Shikadai has become wheelchair bound. Recognizing his weakness he has accepted the fact that Jett will take his place as heir and Roni as backup. The two train daily to fulfill their new roles.

      As of yet, the family has not revealed their inclusion of the Hideaki siblings. Many still believe Shikadai to be the Simon Famiglia heir. They await an opportunity to formally announce the change. Holding off might prove to be advantageous in their favor.

So begins...

Jett Hideaki's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Izaya Ryujin Character Portrait: Nami Gokudera Character Portrait: Roni Hideaki Character Portrait: Fia Leone Character Portrait: Enon Nakada Character Portrait: Chester Sterling
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"Listen here, young Ieharu."

At the mentioning of his name, Ieharu's ears perked up, but he didn't turn to look at the source. He was too busy playing his video game, torso hunched to the side, shoulders scrunched in concentration, the clicks and clacks of his controller nearly as deafening as the sound of gunfire emanating from the massive flat screen before him. This wasn't the first time he had to multitask while an adult was talking.

"I probably shouldn't be telling you this–in fact I shouldn't be, but I believe honorable men like myself should show some good charity toward the families of their targets."

Ieharu's eyes narrowed slightly, but his concentration on his game didn't falter for a second. Though he was only halfway paying attention, he did recognize the voice. Male. Upbeat. Sanguine, but with a hint of danger. It was Godot, though his twin brother Ieyoshi always called the man "their new nanny".

"You might not believe me–I get it, it's a little sudden–but I am an assassin sent by an anonymous payer of mine to knock off an heir of the Vongola family."

From where he stood in the room, Godot took a few steps closer. Ieharu didn't notice, nor did he respond. On the TV, a rival's body exploded in a plume of blood and body parts. Presumably the boy's doing, because he snickered softly.

"Namely, that would be you, Ieharu Sawada." Outside, thunder boomed, ravaging the skies. It was several moments before Ieharu reacted, but then it was as if he'd been physically slapped. The clicking and clacking from the controller ceased immediately as he slowly turned his head, looking over his shoulder at the man who had just threatened his life in no uncertain terms. He was standing pretty close, too. Eyes wide, Ieharu moved his lips as if to form words, but nothing came out.

"Indeed," Godot continued, shrugging as if it were none of his business, his attitude cavalier. "Your Daddy-o's quite an important guy, and there are certain people who are quite concerned as to who takes his nice leather-padded throne."

Ieharu dropped the controller. The sound of an explosion erupted from the TV soon after, the flat screen flashing wildly before going black. There were only two words on the screen now: Game Over.

It was then that Ieharu found his voice, high pitched and wracked with incredulity. "Wait... what?!"

"I don't think you'd be all too interested in the details, seeing as you're going to die anyway." Godot took another step closer. He was within arm's reach of the boy now. "But just think of this as my diagnosis for you."

While gaming, Ieharu had been seated on the edge of a particularly comfortable reclining chair. Having closed the distance between them, Godot leaned on the chair's back, causing it to shift and Ieharu to slide backwards. Slowly. They were practically face to face now.

"I've decided that it's going to happen tomorrow." He said, matter-of-factly. "I can't delay it any further, please understand that I really wish I could."

Ieharu simply stared in horror, the weight of Godot's words imprinting themselves onto his psyche. Could it be true? Is he serious? He sounded pretty serious. Looked dead serious, in fact. But his father would never put an assassin so close, right? ... but what if he didn't, or he made a mistake? What if it was all part of the plan? What if he was going to die?!

"I've grown to like you, young Ieharu, so this is about all I can do for you."


"You've got one day to live, or at least until the next time I see you. I'm giving you the opportunity to clear up whatever remaining regrets you might have. It really hurts my conscience to think about good men dying with regrets..."

As Godot spoke, Ieharu brought his hands to the sides of his face, a sound like that of a dying animal escaping his lips. One day?! It wasn't fair! He had a math test tomorrow that he'd already studied for. He had so many people to meet... so many friends to make... all of it for nothing. His hands traversed his head, moving from the sides of his face to his forehead. Tears came to his eyes at his next thought.

I'm still a virgin!

"Regardless, that doesn't stop me from doing what I'm paid to, I just like to get an extra minute of sleep later on. So, I suggest spending the night to give it some thought, just make sure you sleep good, alright?" Ieharu didn't respond, his hands still plastered to his forehead. "... Oh, and make sure you don't tell anybody like your brother or something. You don't want to get your family involved, else I'll be forced to... Well, I'm sure your a smart kid–in fact, I know you are." Again, Ieharu didn't even respond. Didn't move. Didn't dare to. Never in his life was he so intimidated by the presence of another.

After a momentary silence, Godot turned, releasing the chair and nearly causing Ieharu to fly off it as it snapped forward. "Guess I'll be seeing you tomorrow." Almost as an afterthought, he added: "Oh, and good luck on the quadratics test."


"Yoh, I'm not kidding. I'm serious." Ieharu threw his hands up, a gesture meant to implore. "Didn't you hear me?! He's going to murder us all!"

The boy was sitting atop his bed, covers wrapped around himself like a burrito. Only his face and hands were exposed. He looked like an Eskimo, wrapped in his layers. Standing across from him was literally his mirror image save for their hair color. It was his twin brother, the self-proclaimed "older brother" Ieyoshi, casually slipping on a T-shirt while laughing his head off. When it came to someone as eternally relaxed and laid back as Ieyoshi, "laughing your head off" meant a few soft, curt chuckles. If you weren't actively listening for it, you might even miss it.

"Pfft. Murder you, maybe." Ieyoshi's voice was gruff, his tone sober, his face stoic. It was as if someone had turned his "energy" dial way down and then broke it off. "He did say only one of us would be offed, right?" He turned from sizing himself up in the mirror to look at his brother, who hadn't yet responded. "Right, Haku?"

Ieharu sighed, his big brunette bushel of hair poking out from under the covers. "Right," he mumbled, dejected. He cast his eyes downward before speaking again, this time in a hushed whisper. "You'd save me, right?"

The response was immediate.


Almost instantly, Ieharu brought both hands to his left cheek, where Ieyoshi has unceremoniously slapped him, a look of surprise and anger fresh upon his face. "Yoh! What the fuck?!"

Ieyoshi took a stance, leaning to the side, hand gripping lightly the base of his skull, a somewhat exasperated expression overcoming his otherwise neutral countenance. Ieharu recognized it as his brother's lecturing pose. He'd seen it a million times before. "Look," his brother began, pointing at Ieharu's face. "He's obviously not going to kill you. Think about it." Ieyoshi brought his hands together, marking off his points by counting his fingers. "A, that no-good Tsuna might be stupid, but do you think he's stupid enough to bring a killer into the house? To sleep in our beds? Eat our food?"

"Hey!" Ieharu interrupted, his voice shrill. "Dad's not no-good!" He said, referring to their father, Tsunayoshi.

Ieyoshi shrugged, continuing, his voice as low and monotonous as a boring college professor's. "Whatever. B, the guy's been here for, like, two weeks already. If he wanted to kill you, why not get it over with quickly? Why play buddy buddy with us for nearly a month? C, we don't have time for this. Get up. We have that math test, remember?"

Though he nodded at a couple of his brother's well-articulated points, when Ieyoshi told him to get up, he responded by pulling the covers over his head and rolling back into bed. "I think I'm gonna be sick..." He mumbled, peeking out from under the sheets after a moment.

Ieyoshi sighed, grabbing his backpack by the strap and swinging it onto his shoulder in one smooth fluid motion. He then sauntered out of the room as if the universe owed him a favor. Sauntering seemed to be his natural form of locomotion. From his mannerisms and personality to the way he picked up his bag and walked out of a room, in Ieharu's eyes, his brother was the pinnacle of cool.

After hearing the customary slam of the downstairs door, there were several moments of blissful uninterrupted peace, with Ieharu nearly falling back asleep. Before he could drift fully into unconsciousness, however, he heard someone at the window. He could tell without looking that it was Ieyoshi. Reluctantly, Ieharu rolled out of bed, the frigid air biting into his exposed skin. Slowly but surely he made his way to the window. After a moment, he opened it.

"Ieharu." Ieyoshi was standing on the grass outside of their home, looking up at their shared bedroom window. Their bedroom was on the second floor.

"What? I said I'm not going."

"Yeah, I know. I just remembered something."

Ieharu raised an eyebrow. Ieyoshi had that look on his face again. The one he always got several dozen turns before he won at Monopoly.

Ieyoshi's lips morphed into a slight grin. In response, Ieharu gulped involuntarily. That grin was never a good sign.

"I know something you think I don't know. And it'll make you come to class, too."

Ieharu ducked down so that only his eyes shown over the windowsill, as if his brother were going to start hurling rocks. "Wh... what are you talking about?!"

There was a moment of silence before Ieyoshi responded, but when he did, his brother's eyes grew wide with fright. "I know who Ieharu likes."

Ieharu shot up, his upper body practically leaning out the window at this point. "W-What are you talking about?! I don't l-like anyone!"
"Yes you do."
"No I don't!"
"Then you should have nothing to worry about when I confess to them on your behalf... unless you can catch me, of course."

And with that, Ieyoshi turned and began walking away with that slow measured pace of his.

"Wait! Yoh! Don't! Stop!" Ieharu pleaded, but if his brother heard his protests, he didn't act like it. His fears of being assassinated evaporated instantaneously, replaced instead by the terror of complete social doom at the hands of his brother. Ieharu brought his hands to his face. Unlike his brother, he didn't think of himself as very cool, or smart, or anything. He didn't have many friends. No one respected him, but at least they left him alone. If Ieyoshi was serious about telling, and he's always serious...

Well, he'd never be able to show his face at that school again.

Like a hurricane, Ieharu threw on whatever clothes were lying around. He and his brother shared a room, and they were the same in size and height, so they shared apparel too. In roughly eight minutes time, Ieharu had gone from half naked to mostly ready for school. Brushing his teeth would have only slowed him down anyway. As he rushed towards the door, open book bag swinging off his shoulder, it began to dawn on him that, even if he were to run his very hardest, his brother had an insurmountable lead. Immediately, he began to regret not stopping his brother while he had the chance. Still, maybe there was hop—

Upon bursting through his front door, Ieharu tripped over his own feet and face-planted on the stairs outside. Slowly but surely, he raised himself up off the ground, propping himself up with one arm and holding his injured face with the other. He was trying his very hardest to resist the urge to cry, but it was yet another fight he just wasn't winning. That same bitter thought that always hobbled him reared its ugly head once more: the loser Ieharu has failed.

Little did he know, a shadow slowly crept up behind his unprotected back.

"Buongiorno, young Ieharu," his terrifying home tutor greeted him as casually as ever, his hands buried in the pockets of his jacket, "I didn't think you'd be so eager to go to school today, especially on such a terrible day like this." Godot looked up toward the sky, of which was blanketed in thick clouds. The air was moist from the remains of the previous night's downpour, and water glistened on the soaked grass and wet concrete. For his part, Ieharu yelped audibly at the sound of his name being called. Godot's pleasant demeanor would have eased the boy, had their last conversation not ended so terribly. Instead, his stomach did a backflip and his chest turned to ice. Gradually, he turned his head, once again looking over his shoulder. The feeling of deja vu was practically nauseating. The man always seemed to approach from his blind spot.

"M-mi-uh-G-g-g-godot... h-hi..." He managed to stutter his tutor's name, eyes wide with fear as he suddenly remembered: he was going to die today.

"Oh, by the way, about our little agreement last night... I got word from my client that there's been a change of plans." Again, there was that peaceful smile, as if all was right in the world. "It's sort of exciting, I suppose."

Iehari inhaled sharply. Deep in the recesses of his gut sparked the faintest glimmer of hope. "A change?" The pitch of his voice inflected as he spoke, making his question come out as more of a plea.

Godot nodded. "Yes," he replied, "a pretty big change. You see, I'm not going to kill you later." At that very statement, in one swift motion, Godot brought his hand out of his pocket, a black pistol in hand. All so suddenly, Ieharu found himself staring down the barrel of Godot's Beretta. That flicker of hope in his gut disappeared just as swiftly. Too scared to move, too scared to even think, Ieharu did what came natural.

He screwed his eyes shut.

There was a delay, however. Godot hesitated, although he smirked when he did so. "Seeing as you've accepted your fate already," he said, "I guess that must mean you don't have any more regrets. There's no special person in your life? No unfinished business with somebody close, not even your family? Nothing, eh?"

After several moments of silence devoid of a bullet to the face, Ieharu gathered that the question hadn't been rhetorical. Still, he didn't dare open his eyes. Maybe this way, he still had the chance to wake up from this nightmare.

From under his breath, the boy mumbled something.

"Speak up, boy," Godot demanded, "You're only getting one chance to say it, so spit it out!"

Somewhat startled at the command, Ieharu repeated himself, this time with a bit more volume. His kept his eyes closed. "W-why do you care about what I regret, M-mr. Godot?" Ieharu could almost swear he heard Godot chuckle.

"You'll understand if you die." With that cryptic statement, Godot rotated his wrist sideways and squeezed the pistol's trigger.

And that was it. A loud pop!. A flash of pain. Pressure around his forehead. And then nothing. Ieharu Sawada, son of Tsunayoshi Sawada and Kyoko Sawada, brother to Ieyoshi, friend to few, and most of all, still a virgin, died at that moment.

However, while dying, Ieharu regretted. He regretted parting with the world. He regretted what a waste his life had been. He regretted spending the time studying for a math test he'd never take. But there was one thing he regretted more than anything else. One thing that, even as the bullet pierced his skull and robbed him of life, he wished he had accomplished with all his heart.

I should have stopped Ieharu from confessing for me... from saying something stupid... I could have stopped him...

His body was cold before it even hit the ground.

... with a dying will.

On the other side of the street, several passersby screamed in horror. One was even so bold as to yell, finger pointing in violent accusation: "That thug just shot that kid!"

Ieharu's body slumped on the ground, blood pooling under his head. One second, he was certainly dead. But then in the next...


Ieharu literally exploded, most of his clothes burning away to ashes, his then-dead body springing to life like round two in any good video game's boss battle. Though he was still scrawny and mostly naked, he sported a look that'd never crossed his face before. His eyes were wide and full of determination, his pupils dilated, his irises practically glowing. He was grinding his teeth in seething rage. Most noticeable was the massive orange flame located smack dab in the middle of his forehead, the blaze shifting and pulsing to some unknown rhythm.

His sudden re-emergence from death and accompanying roar of rebirth startled everyone in the area, excluding Godot. One of them—an old woman—fainted where she stood.


And with that, Ieharu sped off, his feet carrying him as fast as an Olympic athlete as he raced with all his might towards Ieyoshi and Namimori High.

Godot watched as the half-naked boy sped off like hell on wheels, and so did the rest of the neighborhood. People looked at Godot, flabbergasted at what they had just witnessed. Godot smiled at them affably.

"Things are going to be a lot more interesting around here from now on."

The setting changes from The Sawada Household to Japan


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Roni Hideaki Character Portrait: Chester Sterling Character Portrait: Rosa Kuromaku Character Portrait: Ieyoshi Sawada Character Portrait: Ieharu Sawada Character Portrait: Jett Hideaki
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#, as written by toajojo

Roni slipped on a pair of spandex shorts and rolled up her skirt. Sure it was below the standard length but she had on shorts underneath. If no one could see her panties what was the problem? Really. It was as if people were just looking for a problem to complain about. Twisting her hair tightly, she maneuvered it into a bun and went to work on taming her bangs in front of the bathroom vanity. "Hun?" Her godmother's voice rang out through the small home. Roni hummed in response as she was busy holding her barrettes between her lips. "Ah, there you are." Tsubaki popped into the doorway of the bathroom and gave her goddaughter a hasty kiss on the cheek. "I'm heading out. Don't be late to school, and make sure Jett doesn't skip. Have a great day!" She told her before making a mad dash out of the door.

Finishing up her hair, Roni had just enough time to call out, "'Kay. Love you!" before the front door slammed shut. Sashaying into the kitchen she slid some waffles into the toaster and bacon onto the stove. "Jett! Syrup or powdered sugar?" She yelled as loudly as she could.

Jett was jolted from his sleep by the piercing sound and sat up groggily, his blanket sliding down his bare torso to his waist. He grumbled unintelligibly as he glanced at the time on his phone. They did not have to be at school for another hour and even then they would be early. So why the fuck was she screaming like a banshee to wake him up? It took him all of six minutes to get ready in the mornings anyways.

He had only been awake for two minutes and already found a reason to frown. With his brow furrowed, Jett stood up and threw his covers back onto the bed haphazardly. Making his way into the bathroom silently, another yell resounded from the kitchen. "Syrup or sugar?"

"Sugar." He answered curtly before shutting the door behind him. Running some cold water, he washed his face as a chill made him tense. Running his fingers through his hair he noncommittally tried to fix his bed head. Whatever, he gave up with a shrug. Heading back to his bedroom, he sloppily pulled on his school uniform. Still in the process of buttoning his shirt when he entered the kitchen and sat down at the table.

Spinning on the ball of her foot, Roni placed their small breakfast down as well as herself. "Good thing you're up. We need to head to school earlier today. I need to get help on this work before the test." Jett merely shrugged in acquiescence as he applied even more powdered sugar to his waffles.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The walk to school was uneventful. At least until the end. As they approached the campus the rambunctious crowd of people before it was disconcerting. For Jett. Roni, on the other hand was extremely excited at the undoubted prospect that something awesome was happening. Trying to integrate herself into the crowd to see what was the heck happening she felt a tight grip on her elbow. "No Jett! Let me see!" She pleaded, her eyes wandered as all of the students whipped out their their BluScreens. Flashes going off here and there.

Though his little sister could not decipher what was going on just yet, Jett was a good deal taller than most of the crowd and could just make out the gist of what was taking place. The second he saw Rosa loose her footing, and her figure disappear below the mob, he knew nothing good was going to happen any time soon.

"Focus. You got shit to do." He reminded her shortly, dragging her out and away from the crowd. Shoving through students with a ferocity. Neither he nor his sister was going to be around to fall victim to any of Rosa's misplaced wrath.

"Fine." She mumbled under her breath as she stumbled to keep up with his long strides. Catching sight of one of her friends, she jabbed them with her hand and mouthed silently for them to text her whatever happens. Receiving an affirmative, Roni grinned. she absolutely hated it when she was out of the loop.

Finally in the school's indoor hallways, Jett released Roni's arm, pushing her forward. "Go. To. Class." He demanded. She glared at him and rubbed her arm in an exaggerated manner, but she could never out-glare her brother. With a huff she stormed down the hall into a nearby classroom and Jett left the opposite way to his own. Maybe he could fit in a nap.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Roni muttered in annoyance about the overbearing sibling she had. Walking into the nearly empty room, she chose her usual seat near the front and dropped her belongings carelessly. Digging out her work as her BluScreen vibrated, indicating a text. Unlocking it without a second thought, she almost choked on the gum she was chewing as she skimmed through them. 'Oh my god.'

How could she have missed all of that? The batman boxers. The half-assed fight. Rosa taking a dip. Oh god. Her light laughter broke the silence of the room. Collecting herself after a minute or two, she finally took note of her surroundings.

The teacher was not even in there. She sighed in exasperation. Looking around, she noticed the kid sitting in the back of the classroom. A hood was tugged low and she tilted her head to get a better look at their face. Cotton candy blue hair jogged her memory and it took her a second more to recall their name. She had a class with him, but she had never actually interacted with him. Now was as good a time as any she figured.

“Chester?” Roni made her way to his desk. “Do you happen to know where the teacher is?”


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Izaya Ryujin Character Portrait: Roni Hideaki Character Portrait: Enon Nakada Character Portrait: Chester Sterling Character Portrait: Cambrey Bovino Character Portrait: Ieyoshi Sawada
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A fully clothed Ieyoshi sighed. It seemed to have become his default go-to reaction to events that weren't interesting enough to capture his attention. And precious few things were ever truly interesting to him nowadays. Perhaps this is what puberty feels like? Ieyoshi sighed again. How boring.

Currently, the elder-by-eight-seconds Sawada twin was making his way across the school's courtyard and towards the massive metalwork fence that marked its perimeter. He was accompanied by Damien, of course. Over the course of this, the first month of school, it'd become a sort of habit of the twins to meet up with Damien and Aobane at the outer gate after school and walk most of the way to their homes as a group. This day, Ieyoshi met up with Damien somewhat earlier, at the steps outside the main hall. Interestingly enough, Ieyoshi was not accompanied by his other half, which struck Damien as odd. The two were typically inseparable. If the morning taught him anything, it was that them being separated was an omen, if anything.

"Haku's not with you again? Don't tell me he's taking another run ahead of you," he asked while putting emphasis on another run. "He already got kids calling me the Hokage because of the smoke bombs."

Ieyoshi sighed again, this time in response to Damien's question. As they were walking, they'd passed by the area that several hours earlier had been the scene of their morning commotion. People had started calling him "batman" because of it, not that he cared—or, at least, that's what he told himself. "Yeah. And apparently I'm Batman." He felt like there was more he could say, but meh. The next order of business for him was making it home and questioning Godot about this nonsense Ieharu was spouting with guns and bullets and assassinations and all that. Knowing his younger twin, he was probably talking to a teacher about a book or a poem or something. Why he cared what they thought was beyond Ieyoshi's ability to fathom. "But if he comes running at me this time, I'll put him down."

Of course, he was joking. Maybe.

Damien did a fangirl pose jokingly. "Oh, my hero! Not the hero Namimori deserves, but the one we need!" He pretended to faint flinging his body towards the ground. Right before landing on his back, he caught himself with one hand with ease.

Despite himself, Ieyoshi laughed. His version of laughing was a curt smile followed by exhaling loudly. "Isn't your village missing you, bitch?" Ieyoshi's voice lightened considerably with his words. Joking around with Damien was always a welcome break in the grinding monotony that he called his daily existence.

Damien quickly popped up back to his feet. "Haha, you mean village full of bitches? Of course they are." He stood as if he were a Hokage with his hand on his invisible large hat. His other hand stood at his side. "Ladies," he paused for a brief moment, "I have returned." Ieyoshi made a face, rolling his eyes in dramatic dismissal. He always gave a slight performance with Ieyoshi and Ieharu for fun. They were close. "Anyways, I wonder what they're calling Haku?"

By now, they'd reached the ashen gunmetal gates that marked the entrance to and exit from the courtyard proper. Instead of going through the gates, Ieyoshi stopped, electing instead to turn and lean against the steel beam that made up part of the left gate's hinge, arms folded. His brother—typically accompanied by that Kuroiobashi kid—should have caught up to them by now, but he had yet to appear. "Pfft. Maybe they'll call him perv. Or idiot. Or crouching idiot, hidden perv fool."

"Haha, if only they knew how he really was. Poor Haku," Damien laughed.

"How about poor us," Ieyoshi responded, chuckling.

When five minutes turned to twenty, all the chattering first and second -years began evacuating the courtyard at a leisurely pace and heading home—long after the too-cool-to-hang third-years had swaggered their way through the front gates, of course. Still, there was no sign of Ieharu. Ieyoshi had long since closed his eyes, as if snoozing, though he was doing anything but. He was merely listening, taking in the sounds of the environment. Though his senses weren't nearly as sharp as Damien's, he could quite easily pick out some familiar voices amongst all the chitchat. Especially Ieharu's voice, which was like a lighter fluffier version of his own.

After several moments of hearing everything but his brother's voice, he sighed, opening his eyes.

He did hear someone interesting. Scanning over the various disparate cliques and courtyard gaggles that so poetically described high school life, his eyes landed upon a-a... a girl? Hmm. Ieyoshi frowned slightly, squinting. For some reason, the girl looked familiar. Like, really familiar. And though he forgot names fairly easily, he'd never forget a face he'd seen before. The girl was tall but sported a small figure, complete with intense blue eyes. Her smooth thin black hair somehow reminded him of one of his father's guardians. Lambo. That was his name. So, where had he seen her before?

He looked down at his folded arms, chewing through his own memories. Things like this really irked him. He'd seen her somewhere before, but where, damn it? After a few moments of pondering, Ieyoshi gave up, filing the question away somewhere in the back of his mind.

He looked up again, his eyes scanning the crowd for something else—anything else!—that would pique his interests and stave off the twin specters of boredom and annoyance.

He spotted Jett. Jett Hideaki. He was milling about along with his sister, though Ieyoshi didn't quite remember her name. He knew Jett, however. Though he personally abhorred watching sports, everyone knew the school's premier basketball champion and most valuable player, even the first-years. Ieyoshi wasn't quite sure how he felt about the Hideaki siblings. Jett especially. He was an imposing person, perhaps intimidating to some, but...

Ieyoshi began to chew on his lower lip.

Whenever he and Jett came within close proximity of each other, something inside of him... it was like he felt a sort of kinship with the guy. Like the two of them shared a relation on some sort of base fundamental level. It was strange, it was unexplainable, it was whatever.

He also spotted Izaya, who was running around the courtyard for reasons only Izaya was aware of. Like Jett, everyone in the school knew Izaya's name, but for less glorious reasons. Ieyoshi shook his head shortly after catching sight of the green-haired kid. Oh well. In any good action movie, the stupid ones always died first.

While following Izaya with his eyes, Ieyoshi crossed eyes with—

Again, Ieyoshi squinted. There were many unfamiliar faces in the crowd, but this one was quite... let's say odd. Red eyes, for a start. Blood red. Glasses. Hair slicked back, as if by hand. Average height. He looked like the type of person that turned out to be the crazy serial killer at the end of a horror flick, but for some reason Ieyoshi felt nothing when he looked him. Absolutely nothing. Not impressed. Not intimidated. Not scared. Not happy. Not even bored. He just felt nothing, a sense of no presence, as if he were staring at a whitewashed brick wall instead of a human being.

Certainly, the guy wasn't in his class. Ieyoshi would have remembered such a face. He didn't seem tall enough or cool enough to be a third-year, though, so he was probably part of the junior class. Interesting. Odd, but interesting.

He stared for a while longer before feigning a loss of interest, lest someone notice him glaring.

Full of unsated curiosity, Ieyoshi pondered asking Damien who the red-eyed guy was, or at least if he had an opinion about him. That's when something slipped by his left peripheral. Now typically, Ieyoshi would have paid it no mind, for such things always pass by one's peripheral vision without incident. This time, however, his body tensed up, the joints in his arms locking for a brief moment. It was a small panic reaction, a flinch, as if someone had tried to jump-scare him. This was a result of Ieyoshi's extremely acute intuition, which lent itself to a very hyper sense of awareness. It was a wholly passive perception and quasi- sixth sense, and one of the precious few areas that he had his friend Damien beat hands down—and that guy goes through Varia-style training regularly.

With a reaction spanning milliseconds, he snapped his head to the left, and saw what triggered his sense of danger.

Uncharacteristically vivid blue hair, like out of a cartoon, tufts of which stuck out from under his hood. A now-familiar face. A boy... at least, Ieyoshi was fairly sure he was a boy. The same one from this morning.

Ieyoshi followed the boy with his eyes as he passed through the gate and out the other side, walking between several others as he went. As far as he could tell, the blue-haired kid hadn't taken notice of him. On the other hand, no one else seemed to take notice of the kid, not even Damien. It was as if he were a ghost, or a rock, and people just seemed to move around him, passively acknowledging his existence. It was fascinating to observe, but eventually the kid moved out of view, and Ieyoshi didn't want to give off the impression that he was interested.

Ieyoshi sighed softly. There was something about that kid. Something about the red-eyed guy. Something about many of these so-called students. Something he couldn't quite put a finger on. One thing was for sure, though: he needed to hone his intuition. He got feelings all the time about places and people, but rarely did he know enough about what his instincts were telling him that he could act on them in an effective and efficient manner.

He did have one feeling he recognized: his intuition told him he'd be dealing with the blue-haired kid—dealing with all of these strange people—a lot more directly over the coming months. It was just his luck, after all. If he wasn't being tackled by crazy familial relations in the morning, it was gonna be something else.


Ieharu placed his hands under the one of the bathroom sinks' faucets. A stream of perfectly-warmed water met his hands instantaneously. His father always talked about how, "back in the day," water faucets always had "hot" and "cold" handles on them and you have to mix and match them manually to get it just right. Nowadays, they have faucets that have infrared thermometers attached to them. They set the water to the perfect temperature automatically, based on skin temperature. Honestly, Ieharu couldn't fathom having to twist little knobs to make water come out. It was dumb. If he wanted cold, he'd just say "colder" and the faucet would obey him. If he wanted warmer water, he'd just say "warmer". Why did it take people so long to think up such a basic idea?

The boy giggled at the thought. Living in the past must've really sucked.

The faucet automatically added the correct amount of soap to the water, so he didn't have to do anything but move his hands around a little before they were sufficiently clean.

Tucked under his arm was a book titled A Wrinkle in Time, by a long-dead American author named Madeleine L'Engle. Currently, it was Ieharu's favorite book, though the designation of "favorite" was doled out on a weekly basis to the works of prose that found their way into his hands, if that. He was truly a voracious reader.

The book itself, of course, wasn't any normal paper book. It was technically a paperback, sure. It wasn't one of those old-fashioned e-readers or anything—it was better. The book's "paper" pages were each a type of foldable hardware, and the pages themselves could switch text and content at the will of the reader. One moment, he could be reading A Wrinkle in Time, the next he could be perusing a newspaper or pretending to read his class's Social Studies book.

Gokudera—Damien's dad—always complained when Ieharu took it out. "You kids are spoiled rotten," he'd always say. "You don't need these all these newfangled toys! Isn't a smart phone and infinity internet enough for you brats?"

Haha, old people are funny.

Ieharu let his hands rest under the luxurious warmth of the running water for a while longer before removing them from the stream and moving towards the door. He waved his wet hands over a small silver plate on the wall, which unleashed a burst of air as his they passed, shearing the excess moisture from his skin like an air blade. The bathroom door opened for him shortly after, though Ieharu paid the automated marvel no mind. Such things were rudimentary at this point.

The school day had come to an end a while back, yet he'd gotten distracted talking to his teacher. They continued the class discussion about the nature of main characters in prose, with Ieharu relating what they'd discussed to A Wrinkle in Time.

Oh well, Ieyoshi would forgive him if he were just a little late.

Next order of business: go meet with Aobane and head down to meet Ieyoshi and Damien. He'd asked Aobane to wait by the elevators while he went to the bathroom, so he was probably still there. Hopefully. Ieharu's cheeks burned red with the thought of him having taken too long in the bathroom. Agh!

Turning on his heel, the boy began walking down the hall. The elevators where in a small niche on the right side at the end of the hall.

He made it about two-thirds of the way there before he was stopped.


"What is this guy doing?" Ieyoshi lamented, not bothering to hide his exasperation at his brother's absence. The courtyard was virtually empty at this point. Even some of the staff were beginning to head home. Creepy teacher Zenith-sensei had even passed him by, offering a creepy wave and generally being a creep. Ieyoshi wasn't quite sure why he didn't much care for the man, or why he seemed like such a creep, but...

Whatever. He'd give it five more minutes, max, and then Ieharu would be walking home without him. On second thought, maybe he should leave now. It'd do his brother some good to be independent for once. The elder twin looked over to Damien. "Wanna just go?"

Damien looked in the direction that Ieharu would walk in. Alone. He started to get a bit worried. "Eh, but shouldn't we wait a bit longer. I mean especially after today when he—"

"DAMIEEEEEENNNNN!" Enn charged forwards and leapt towards him with his arms outstretched, smiling widely. He completely ignored Ieyoshi. Behind him somewhere in the distance, a brown-haired third year with a jagged scar across his face watched in surprise, barely hiding anxiety as he walked towards the gate, green sweater slung over his shoulder. "Damien there you are I couldn't—"

Damien instinctively ducked on his knees and dodged Enn's charge. He knew in that instance, what this meant. Enn flew over him and rolled to a crouch a few feet away, continuing without pause. "—find you—" got up instantly and leant in low, sprinting towards Damien's back and lashing out with a punch. "—anywhere!" A grin fell on Damien's face as the punch flew in his direction. It was Enn's turn to be the attacker while he was the defender. He placed his right palm out and blocked the punch instantly.

"Mmm, close but not there yet," Damien replied. At this point his body was faced towards Enn and his eyes were fixed on his every move.

"Don't worry," Enn grinned happily, a wild look in his eyes. Ah, fighting Damien was fun! So much fun that Enn didn't want to think about even trying to kill him. He hadn't had this much fun ever after he left Italy and couldn't take part in hits as much as he liked anymore, since Shou didn't like it. Shou was right, high school was great! He grabbed hold of the wrist of the hand holding his own hand and pulled as he whirled and bent, hurling Damien over his shoulder. "I'm just getting started!" The game of attack and defense went on. Enn attacked furiously, sending flying kicks, punches, a flurry of blows were all thrown at Damien. To each, he merely blocked, ducked, and jumped back, and it was clear to those who knew them well that they were just playing around, albeit semi-seriously.

Ieyoshi merely looked on at the two, mouth slightly agape, a disturbed look fresh upon his face, as if someone had told him one plus one equaled fish with a zealous fervor. He wasn't really familiar with this kid who so cavalierly attacked Damien, though he knew his face, and knew his reputation. He was a fellow first-year, and one of the more annoying ones, too.


After a few moments of observation, he sighed and looked away, bored once more. Maybe he'd just go home anyway.

"Enn, why'd you run that fast—" the brown-haired third year came to a halt as he stared at the scene, panting a little. A group of emotions rapidly cycled over Shou's face before settling on a strange sort of resignation (and relief that his brother wasn't seriously trying to kill someone) and a mixture of worry and anxiety. "Oh no stop..." he straightened and turned to Ieyoshi, eyebrows creased in worry over the situation. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry I'm so so sorry," he apologised frantically, bowing a little in apology. "Enn was waiting for me to finish with club and then he ran off before I could stop him I'm sorry!"

Ieyoshi eyed the guy before him. Shou, was it? He wasn't in Ieyoshi's class, but he'd seen seen the guy around—primarily around Enn. Most likely a third-year, though he didn't have the air of one. If memory served, Shou and Enn were brothers.


Shou didn't seem as bombastic and frenetic as his brother, so that was a plus. "It's whatever," he said, shrugging in acknowledgement of Shou's apology. "Hey, you haven't happened to have seen my brother around, have you? He looks just like me, except his hair is dyed black for some reason." He shot a glance over at Damien and Enn. "And I'm about to leave him to walk home alone, too," he added, grumbling under his breath.

"O-Oh," Shou said, straightening up from his bow into a sort of relaxed posture, hooking a thumb around his bag-straps. He thought back throughout the day, trying to think about whether he saw—um, Iehaku? That was his name—going about his day, Eventually, he shook his head. "I don't think I saw him," he said regretfully, shaking his head. "Sorry."

Ieyoshi was about to sigh for the thousandth time this day, when his intuition pricked him. Looking away from Shou, a figure in the distance was approaching them, moving most expeditiously in their direction. Ieyoshi raised his eyebrows in expectation, frowning slightly at the realization that it certainly wasn't his twin brother.

The setting changes from Japan to Namimori High


Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Izaya Ryujin Character Portrait: Roni Hideaki Character Portrait: Chester Sterling Character Portrait: Lilith Dusk Character Portrait: Ryuu Morimoto
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The loud chatter of the cafeteria filled the room. The cafe was spacious and contained more than enough space for every student in the school as if they planned for another incoming class. Although it seemed like a normal day, there was a bit of 'tension' floating around in the air. It was Thursday, but not your average one. More specifically it was Godbread Thursday, the day where boys become men.

"Only a few more minutes to go," Lilith said watching the oven. She was still waiting to produce the gift from heaven and bring it to life on earth. The Godbread. Perfectly seasoned, buttered, and prepared with love. The ultimate bread that for today, was only one eighth of the regular price. Typically, only fully grown adults with a well-paying job could afford such a delicacy or a few students that came from rich families, but this special was made with the students in mind; however, there was a large catch with this. Only five were being made. In the spirit of competition, each Godbread will be placed separated and equal distance from the opposite side of the coffee shop. Whoever brings it to Lilith's cashier stand in the small coffee shop section located in the cafe, gets the sale. Once the Godbread container was handed to Lilith, then it is considered safe and no longer eligible for anyone to take. This was the honor rule in placed for all those who battle for it. This was a monthly affair and allows students to release any stress they have built up through school along with the chance to be blessed by the Godbread.

Today marked the second Godbread Thursday of the school year which tends to be the more popular one. By now, the nicknames of those who have participated have been given and more people would have garnered strategies in preparation for war. The first war was interesting to say the least. There five winners were the Hokage, the angry Mad Hatter, the Ghost, the Doll Queen, and the Still Reaper. This time, the fight will be more rigorous since more students have prepared their own strategies in preparation. You could see among the students that some have matching shirts to represent their factions, others have sat in certain positions closer to the Godbread locations where they would be placed. "This'll be a good show," Lilith said to herself. This was one of the few things that gave Lilith a slight rush other than stealing valuables. "I guess I'll check what's on TV then," she said as she motioned towards the remote. There was a slightly large television used to create ambiance with background music while the store ran. *Click* She flipped to the first channel, hah the news.

"This is AMAZING," the reporter obnoxiously yelled. "Tempest! From Blast of Tempest is rumored to be coming to Namimori to perform, SOON!" Her excitement was very apparent accompanied by the fans standing behind her trying to get their five seconds of fame. "I love you Tempest!" one of the teenagers shouted from behind the reporter. "Oh yeah! We love you Tempest," another fan shouted. "But that's not all folks!" the reporter could barely contain her excitement, "But Kunyo! Kunyo the model! He'll be accompanying her! Both of these idols together!"

"Her music is alright, but Kunyo is pretty attractive. Not my type though," Lilith muttered while changing to the next channel. Another news jingle came on again, "Oh great, more news."

A male reporter with a larger build stood there with a serious demeanor. "This is scary news folks. Last week, we went from covering the mysterious gamer N1E5—pronounced Nies— and his many achievements, but this week we have a notorious hacker NAMIMORI." "This man sounds like the conspiracy theorist that are on television....oh wait," she stopped midway realizing this in fact is the news. "But alas, we have hope! We have another hacker on our side!”

"Conspiracy, conspiracy, next," she clicked the remote again.

"Here we are live with the famous Wushu Master, Alois!" The reporter shifted the mic while the camera focused on Alois. "Hello Alois, I've heard you're coming to Namimori soon, why is that?" She continued to ask him probing questions on and on.

"Eh, that's cool I guess." *DING DING DING* The oven continuously beeped. It's time. Lilith pressed the power button on the remote to shut off the annoying news reporters. As she walked towards the oven, she could notice the shift in atmosphere in the cafeteria. The voices slowly began to fade as she went to open the oven. She grabbed her Namimori cafe specialized mittens with Bertha's image holding a coffee mug, then opened the oven. The irresistible aroma overwhelmed the cafe and overtook Lilith for a moment. The smell started to spread even further into the cafeteria causing an eerie silence to fill the area. "The God bread," one student muttered quietly, "Praise the gods. "The Pastry Goddess has finished the ritual," another student said while beginning to kneeling down in respect. Lilith somehow earned the title of Pastry Goddess as the legends of God Bread Thursdays began. The nicknames and different factions of students were always interesting to say the least.

Lilith pulled out the long strip of Godbread out of the oven and already prepped five durable sturdy containers out on a table. She carefully divided them up, spread butter, a bit more seasons, and finally completed the legendary God Bread by placing them in the containers. "It's time," she said while holding each container stacked on top of each other like a professional waitress. She walked slowly towards the first pedestal on the opposite side of the cafeteria. The pedestal was white and in the form of ancient Greek god. The five gods that had a pedestal design were Zeus, Hera, Athena, Ares, and Apollo and it is said that whichever bread you receive will cause you to earn a different blessing from the respective god. Each pedestal god held their hand out as if they were holding something up which conveniently could be filled with a God Bread. All five god pedestals that lie equal distance from each other while they all stand on the opposite side of the cafe. As Lilith placed the final God Bread, she began walking back like a model in all her beauty. She lived up to her title as the Pastry Goddess because as she slowly walked, her hair flew which helped show her natural allure. By this point, the entire cafeteria population was silent and watching Lilith head back to the cafe. The war doesn't start until she says those magic words. Students sat there with their fist clenched and ready.

The sound of running footsteps began near the Zeus Godbread statue. Someone tried to get a false start ahead of everything. "Sorry love," Lilith said as she quickly turned around. She reached for a small yen coin from her pocket, held it with two fingers with her left hand, and prepared her right hand to flick it. She closed one eye, then released the flick. The yen flew at a terrifying speed directly toward the student. BAM! It hit the child bulls eye on the back of the head. He fell down temporarily knocked out from the impact. Some students shook their heads, knowing that you should never try to get an early start. The Pastry Goddess is beautiful but merciless. Without saying any further words, Lilith turned around and continued walking towards the cafe. She finally reached the cashier with her back facing the wall opposite of the students and the Godbread. The tension in the air was more evident since it was about to be that time. She quickly turned around with the 'coffee lady girl' persona and smile and said, "Welcome to Namimori Cafe! We are Now Open!"

"To the Godbread!" "Ahhhh!" I'll get it!" A multitude of students had begun yelling while chasing their respective god pedestal. This was the beginning of the second bread wars.

The setting changes from Namimori High to Japan


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jett Hideaki Character Portrait: Leon Kusumoto Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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Leon cocked his head to the right, examining the scene in front of him with a small gleam in his eye. Lifting the camera in his hands carefully to his eyes, he looked through the lens, the vision through them just as clear as it had been without them, if not better.


He had to hurry. The battle had started only moments before, with Leon being lucky enough to be close enough to film it, but it could end at any second, the way fights so often did. Leon privately didn't think it would end so soon, seeing how much fun the two teams seemed to have sparring for the bread, but that was no excuse.

It's my job to film this on tape, after all... and Leon might seem lazy, but he always took his job seriously.

He pressed the button, and the camera started to film with a faint click.


During the three seconds after the fight had started, Leon had pulled out his camera, found a good spot to take video from where he wouldn't be involved in the battle, an angle that took advantage of the lighting and pressed the button that started the recording. Not bad for someone who looked as if he were half asleep most of the time.

But the angle wasn't right.... Leon's eyebrows creased together behind the camera, a minute action that those who knew him could use to classify as 'vaguely displeased'. The lighting was good, yes, highlighting the sparring boys without setting their features into shadow (mostly), but that was only if they stayed in similar positions.

He would have to move to capture the fight properly.

Eyes focused on the scene through the camera, Leon started to shift around, weaving through the spectators with ease that seemed at odds with his seemingly slow pace. Despite the constant movement, the camera skilfully caught the fight in the best light, zooming in and out at appropriate moments all without losing focus, thanks to Leon's deft hands and the constant practice he had placed in using a camera for the past ten years. Even when he bumped into someone halfway around the circuit he was making to capture the fight the best he could, the camera remained steady in Leon's hands.

Still filming away, Leon turned his head towards the right, a clear apology in his eyes. The person he had bumped into was a third year, with dark blue hair cut short to his head with dark skin tone. He seemed vaguely familiar...

Now wasn't the time for reminiscing, though. Leon would have done his usual thing (radiating apologetic vibes that said 'sorry for bumping into you' with the same sentence clear in his eyes), but he couldn't afford to have a misunderstanding right now, in case the third year didn't realise what Leon was trying to project. He... would have to speak.


Furrowing his brows in concentration, Leon focused on gathering the appropriate words in his mouth, the camera he was holding guided on semi-autopilot as he did so. "... Sorry." he said, the word coming out monotonous. It only sounded slightly apologetic, like he hadn't meant it, but the rueful aura surrounding Leon added to its sincerity.