Chapter Text
Yomitsuki Yuu - 8th Attempt
Time - 12:01 AM, August 1st, 20XX
Night Raven College - Mirror Chamber
After being reborn… oh, a good number of times, you've learned something.
Nothing much really matters.
Sure, friendships and relationships and things like that are nice, but… after a while, you come to realize that—when stuck in a seeming time loop of death—they don't really stick. (At least as much as you hoped.)
Your system had dubbed itself the "Healing System." Essentially, injuries and collateral damage would be fixed, and you could gain points and powers from helping others through their pain as well. After your third death, you started calling it the "Underfunded Therapy System" because even it could tell that your present conditions where utterly inhumane.
This system was also the reason for your previous seven deaths in the world of Twisted Wonderland—TWST cause you're too lazy to write all of that—and your original one (crushed via your upstairs neighbor's cinder block bed at two AM, right before your alarm to wake up and play said game of TWST on your phone and tablet because you are a freak of nature.)
Explaining that to the system was one of the most embarrassing things you had to do, second to explaining to Deuce that not all eggs produce chickens in a way that's not through a screen.
And now you had to do everything. Again. For the eighth time.
At least this time, you had a plan built off of seven previous tries, as well as not having the lingering embarrassment of dying in a stupid way. Malleus was possibly the best way you could've gone out, so there's that. And, even outside of those two things, you had your powers from previous lives and knowledge from the actual game.
In terms of "Transmigration Story Protagonists," you were better equipped than most. The lack of a weapon made you nervous, given your three previous runs had you with a dagger at all times and a sword in the ladder two of them, but those had been delivered in someway to Ramshackle.
And, by "someway," you meant massive tidings of magpies left them on your porch in the middle of the night. It was terrifying the first time. And loud as shit.
But that's not the point right now. The point was that you were back in the coffin that you don't think will never not smell like you. You had—by your calculations—maybe five minutes before Grim waltz in, so you found it the perfect time to check on your many purchased and innate skills.
The system had a very helpful feature: whenever you helped someone, healed someone, or did anything that the system did for you for another, you would gain an amount of "Points" and "EXP." The former let you unlock and level up skills you bought, while the ladder allows you to level up your innate skills. After unlocking the Shop feature following the first run's prologue, you had made it a point to unlock any skill that could help you—be it in the moment or the long run.
However, that was seven deaths ago, and you had come to realize that your initial mindset (this just being a video game) had directly led to Riddle killing you.
Having no fighting prowess, nor a toned muscle in your body, was a direct hindrance. You couldn't just unlock a "fighting" skill and be done with it; and, even if you could, that didn't mean you knew how to do it, simply the mechanics of it. Meaning you very quickly had to stop being a bed rotting loser and get in shape if you had any chance of fighting the other Overblots.
Though, you guessed that didn't matter when Leona simply turned you into sand.
Embarrassing.
In any case, this also gave you a moment of calm. A rarity here. Between Grim, the idiots you called friends, and all of your inane side quests, this was the one moment you could look forward to after your deaths.
It also gave you the chance to look over your overly detailed (borderline insane) survival plan. Yea, after dying the first few times, you realized you couldn't just follow the game's script and be fine—that's not how real life worked and it made you sound very fake to those around you. So you had to do the one thing you dreaded most: socialize with other people that aren't in your friend group. Ace and Deuce were always in there—lest the system breakout in hives—but you had made it a point to befriend others who were close to subsequent Overblots.
And if your initial plans of friendship didn't work, you had contingencies. And contingencies for those contingencies. And so on and so forth. Honed over multiple lifetimes, you had maybe the most perfect plan that had ever been made—making yourself indispensable to anyone that mattered.
And the only cost was part of your sanity.
You swiped the Skill screen away and awkwardly dug around in your pocket until you managed to grab your phone. Opening it, the bright white title blinded you in the pitch black space.
Twisted Wonderland.
Yes, you were playing this in the world of TWST. Why? You still had events to do and cards to buy for exorbitant prices. You are not falling behind just because you died 7 times now, okay? Your Glorious Masquerade Malleus, Idia, and Azul cards weren't maxed out just so you could leave this account behind. Death means nothing and you have spent way too much money on this game.
Sunk cost fallacy, your ass. The Tsumsted Wonderland rerun waits for neither man nor beast nor whatever you are now.
A door screeching open pulled you from your game. Damn it.
Well, seems your current situation waited for no one either.
"Crap. People are coming," Grim muttered from outside. Your ears had slowly grown accustom to the direbeast's steps, so pointing out his approximate location had become second nature. Maybe twenty feet away now. "Gotta get a uniform while..." A low growl escaped him.
You were way ahead of the game, shifting down as low and flat as you could in order to avoid the oncoming fire. Your second run taught you that if you could dodge an attack, you should. (And, also, singed hair is not a good look, especially when you're gonna be under the scrutiny of the entire student body.)
Grim rounded the room a few times, with the sounds of grunting and scraping filling the gaps in his steps. They were slowly coming closer as the minutes passed. A minute—about—before he was on you.
All you could do was continue to shove yourself back and down in the narrow space of your gate, making as little noise as you could. Making noise would scare him off—first run lesson.
Eventually, the steps stopped outside of your gate. He seemed to notice that your gate's door was cracked open ever so slightly, and so put more force in attempting to push it off. Still, it's… "T-the lid is too heavy," he stuttered, moving back a few paces. "Time for…my secret move!"
Bracing yourself against the cushioned back of the coffin, you tuck your head in and moved your arms and legs up to shield as much as you can.
"Guwaahuuh~~~~" A massive blast of blue light burned through your eyelids. The lid had been blown clean off—again—and the lights from the Mirror Chamber flooded into the gate once again. "There— huh?!"
As calmly as you could manage, you rubbed the floating shapes out of your eyes before stretching—a few disks popping in your spine. "Ahhhh~… thanks for that kid. Needed that."
The small direbeast sputtered at you as you continued to pop joints. After a few moments of awkward silence, he finally yelps, "why are you up?!"
"You, who is…?" was your immediate response. That only seemed to make Grim more aggravated. The initial responses wouldn't work, given that you were used to this song and dance now and the MC wasn't. So this was the best way to get Grim to go along with the story beats.
The flames in the beasts ears grew bigger and brighter in anger as he bared his fangs. "I am the Great Grim-Sama!" He huffed, crossing his front paws, before speaking again with a big grin. "Well, whatever. Hey—"
You flapped your hand and made "meh meh meh" sounds, interrupting him as rudely as you pleased. "Yea, yea, great kid." Fumbling before you forced them to steady, your hands pulled your ceremonial robe from your form and dropped it on the floor in a heap. "Listen, never heard of you and I got better things to do. So play… dress up or something." You waved at the robe as you made your way out of the Chamber.
There was no telling if that was easy on you or not. You had grown to love Grim like a son in both the game and through your runs, so being so rude to him put a weight on your conscience. But the only reason it wasn't heavier was because start-of-game Grim was a little shit.
As if on queue, growling and fires crackling grew louder behind you, forcing you to run towards the doors. You didn't even hear what he said (same thing as the last four times) as the door slammed behind you.
Besides getting this story on track, your "better thing to do" was picking up a package. While most physical things you purchased were sent to your dorm, there was one thing you had made sure to send somewhere different—your tablet and keyboard.
See, it was also something you played TWST on, and having to wait almost two hours for it made you panic. When you died, the day had past already, and the only reason you didn't go on immediately was because you were asleep; it was always hard to tell how much time had past between death and rebirth, but you assumed it was always the same (if not similar). So, after the first go around, to avoid panicking over not being able to maximize your "TWST Profit Output", you now got your tablet shipped to the library after rebirth.
So if you were running a little faster than usual, then that was why.
It made you remember your first life—and not for the first time at that. Back then, you were so bad at anything physical, so you had bought the "Fast" skill the first chance you had. It only amplified your speed by a percentage, which meant you were only slightly better at running. It was one of the few good things that had come out of your time at Savanaclaw, with the constant exercise actually motivating you to get faster and more in shape.
(Well, more than the fear of death by Overblots.)
At least you now had a decent lead over Grim. You might even be able to do a Rhythmic or two.
You skid into a turn and run through the courtyard. The magpies were already above you, screeching and cawing to announce their entrance.
A few students were speaking in hushed voices somewhere near. Another was calling out their names.
Ace and Epel. Riddle. Ace CR vignette.
Helpful, but not the time. However, it did give you a good indicator of what time it was.
Slowly and quietly, you open the door to the library and slip inside. Hopefully, you'll have enough time to grab the package before the Headmaster and Grim come bursting in.
Something about this place made you irrationally angry. Or rationally angry, given the language of this world was god awful. And you were someone to judge this, as it damn near gave you a stroke when you first read it. (Fun times.)
However, now wasn't the time, and you hated how distracted you were right now. It was normal after coming back—the reminiscing. Everything was just so familiar and formulaic. Almost funny.
A bird screech pulled you from your thoughts. Your feet had managed to drag you towards a window—already open and letting in a cool night's draft. In front of you was one of the largest magpies you'd ever seen, sat atop a brown package, followed by a flock of smaller ones holding little trinkets in their talons.
Always eight. Never more, never less.
It was your lucky number. And it was maybe the worst one to have given your current predicament.
Shaking that off, you pulled the package out from under the large magpie and held it out like a tray to the others, letting them place the trinkets on top. Bracelets and bangles, stray earrings, a ring, analog earbuds, and a long length of black and white striped ribbon. They had all been things you were wearing upon your death, and so you suspected that the rest would be delivered to Ramshackle in due time.
You give a small bow and reach out to scratch on of their feathered heads, but is interrupted by the small beast yelling out behind you. "Did you really think you'd get away from my nose? Dumb human!" he taunted, standing with his paws on his hips and a smug look on his face. All you could do was give an apologetic look to your feathered friends before whispering to the largest.
The group soon flew off and you turned to the direbeast with a bored expression. "Oh, you." You shifted the box onto one hand as you sorted through the assorted trinkets, trying to remember what you had on each side.
He seemed to puff up at that—even if it was the smallest amount of recognition. "That's right: Me! Now, if you don't wanna get roasted, better hand over—"
The lash of a whip cut him off, making him yelp and skitter between your legs. As fast as you could, you grabbed the remaining items and hid the package behind your back. Showing it only made him suspicious.
"Bwah?! Ow! What's with the rope?" Grim yowled between your feet.
Crowley stepped out from the darkness like he always did, holding a cat o nine tails whip in one hand. (Seriously, it was either some kink thing or he was just really weird, and you didn't want to know which it was.) "This is no mere rope," he announced in a booming voice, "it is a lash of love!"
After a few moments of the man glaring at the beast, he finally turned to you with an elated expression. "Ah, found you at last. Are you one of the new students?" He didn't wait for you to answer—never did—as he shook his head. In his other hand, you noticed, was your discarded ceremonial robe. "That won’t do. You mustn’t leave the Gate on your own! Not only that, taking your untamed familiar with you to school is against the regulations."
"I'm not their freakin'—"
Your foot lightly kicked Grim in the side. Instead of letting the other speak, you bowed slightly and spoke, saying, "I'm sorry, sensei. I was unaware of this rule. However, he isn't—"
And, instead of letting you finish, Crowley interrupted like he always did. "Sure, sure. That’s what all the rebellious ones say." You could feel your eye twitch as he continued, but you didn't care for the last part. Flattery usually worked on him.
(Though, thinking back, it only ever worked when you were complimenting his graciousness. But that was later on, so you had assumed this would work, given that you seemed new to all of this.)
(Wasn't as if you planned it, so at least your pride wasn't wounded.)
"My goodness. It's unprecedented for a new student to leave the Gate on their own," he continued, shaking his head with a groan. "Simply how impatient can you be?"
The asshole in you wanted to say "very," but you pushed that down. Looking calm yet confused was the goal emotion here.
He sighed at your lack of response, though he didn't seem overly disappointed. Probably thought you were embarrassed. "The entrance ceremony is already well under way. Let's head to the Hall of Mirrors."
You nodded, but made no move to follow him. Instead, you asked, "right, but—uh—sensei… sama, I'm sorry, but who are you?" You pushed as much confusion as you were willing to into your tone. This was meant to be convincing enough. You weren't from here, so it would be game breaking for you to know him right off the bat. "And where am I?"
At this, he tilted his head. "What's this? Are you still dazed?" His eyes scrutinized you for a long moment, taking in your seeming nervous form, before he let out a small 'ah' sound. "It appears the teleportation magic has left you disoriented..." He put a hand to his chin—with the whip having seemingly disappeared to somewhere. "Well, no matter. It happens often enough."
He turned his back to you as he spoke, giving you enough to hide the package within a stack of books and leaving both of your hands free enough to pick up Grim. The beast squirmed and struggled, but you just brought him into your arms and began scratching between his ears. And the poor thing melted.
"I shall give you an explanation as we make our way there. For I am gracious."
✎＿＿＿＿＿＿
Crowley cleared his throat as the two of you stepped out onto the courtyard. The other three had gone inside by this point, and you just had to hope Riddle wasn't too harsh with the pair.
Pipe dream, really, given the current state.
"This is 'Night Raven College'." Crowley's hand motioned to the all too familiar school, and you took it all in again. After Malleus's Overblot and it's invasive briars, seeing the school clean was… weird. Not bad, just weird. "Budding mages blessed with unprecedented talent gather from all over the world here at the most prestigious magical academy in Twisted Wonderland."
All you could do was nod as your deft hands continued to scratch along Grim's crown. While he might insist that he's not a cat, he sure can act like one under the right circumstances—like now, because he was very loudly purring, buried in the crook of your arm.
"And I'm the board chairman-appointed headmaster in charge of looking after this college, Dire Crowley."
You hummed and nodded. "Seems my memory was fuzzier than I remember. What permits someone to get in here again? I-I apologize, Crowley-sensei." Yep. Just keep him talking so he doesn't have the brain capacity to question you in earnest.
At that, he shook his head, but again didn't seem overly disappointed. "Only those mages deemed worthy by the Dark Mirror can attend this school. An Ebony carriage carrying a Gate should have gone to meet you as well."
In the past, the image of an ebony carriage might've entered your mind—either some conjured up faux-memory or your knowledge of the game coming in clutch. Now, however, you just remember your death from a third person perspective.
"I think I remember going through a dark forest..." you supply. It was one of the few pieces of dialogue you could say, as it wasn't something that required fear, only a level of ignorance.
After a moment of thought, Crowley continued. "The Ebony Carriage goes to welcome new students chosen by the Dark Mirror. They are special carriages that carry the Doors to the academy." His eyes scrutinized you once again, seeming to try and find fault in anything you had said so far. "Carriages are the vehicle of choice for special occasions. Is that not what conventional wisdom has dictated since the days of yore?"
You thought, but ultimately shook your head in response. "Most of the schools I went to merely sent a letter and stickers—sometimes a commemorative t-shirt or magnet."
…
Shit.
If you run out of things to say, he'll question you on where you're from, and doing that now sounded like Hell. It was bad enough having to do it seven times already, and you would rather save the song and dance for later.
"Perhaps you could do something similar for the families—something they can wave around and say, 'my child got into the prestigious Night Raven College. I just know they'll become one of history's greatest mages under Crowley-sensei's care.'" You paused, taking in his reaction, before continuing. "It would be the gracious thing to do, would it not? And it would drive more budding mages to choose this school over any other—if there is…"
You could tell he wasn't listening anymore. That should occupy his time long enough for you to make it to orientation. In the meantime, you could choose what song you wanted to mark this orientation with.