Vormund -- Chapter One: Beneath Golden Gilding

Chapter 1
Beneath Golden Gilding

We lay our scene in a fair city, much like the rest. Skyscrapers reach out in all directions, and both man and machine roam the streets precariously, without worry. Except the few crimes and scandals, there is nothing but peace.
Or at least that's what one would be lead to believe...not that horrifying monsters stalk the streets among us, seen only by a few. Here is where the truth lies, not fiction. It lies beneath the golden veil above society. There lies our story of Naoya Kisaragi, who had no idea what he was in for that day long ago...
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“Class dismissed,” the teacher declared in a short monotone as three melodious rings resounded through the room.
Naoya roused himself from his nap and stretched out over the desk, letting out a short yawn. As the teacher continued to drone on about how the students shouldn't forget their homework over Golden Week, Naoya stuffed it into his folder, along with other unfinished homework. It looked like he had a lot of crap to put up with for such a short vacation.
He had just rested his head back onto the desk when a sudden 'thwump' sound came from his desk. He looked up, and lo and behold, there was his good friend Tsubaki, looking troubled as always.
“Naoya-kun!” she exclaimed, her twinkling cyan eyes taking on a frustrated appearance.
“How're you doing, Tsubaki?” he replied with a dreamy look in his eyes, studying her face carefully.
“Don't pull that 'how ya doing' thing on me again, Kisaragi! You slept through class again!”
“You didn't tell me how you were doing.”
She groaned, “Ugh, I'm not doing your report for you again, just so you know.”
“You know you will.” he said with a smirk, pulling himself up from his seat.
Tsubaki rolled her eyes and with a short giggle, she agreed, “Naoya-kun, why do I find it so hard to say no to you?”
“Because I'm just that awesome.”
“You sound so serious when you say that.” she laughed, but then her face turned serious, “Naoya-kun, how about we have a little...trade?”
The second Naoya heard his friend say “trade”, he automatically let out a sigh, “What do you want this time? I can't keep paying for your Yuri mags with my allowance, you know.”
Tsubaki's face flashed a deep red behind her long brunette bangs and her red framed glasses; she exclaimed, “N-Naoya-kun! Shut up, you pervert!”
Naoya rolled his eyes, thinking about what a shame it was that such a pretty girl was--
She slapped him with her purse in the middle of his thoughts, something he found rather annoying.
“Ow...Tsubaki-chan...why did you hit me..?” he asked in a whiny voice.
She growled back at him, “You know why! I don't need any more of those, thank you very much. I just wanted to...” she rummaged through her seemingly bottomless bag, pulling out her hand only when she grasped a flier in it, “...see if I could get you to join this, is all.”
Naoya swiped the paper from her hands, quickly reading through it.
The drama club invites YOU to join, today! Meetings occur after school on Mondays, Thursdays and Saturdays. Practicing year-round, we perform at the school festival and periodically at the nearby opera house.
“I didn't think you were one for drama, Tsubaki.” Naoya noted, leading the way out of the classroom. Indeed, Tsubaki could hardly keep a straight face while she lied...she couldn't act, much less perform for an audience.
“Well, it's um...a lot of fun, and Yoshino asked me to see about you joining.”
“Yoshino?” Naoya asked, puzzled. Then he realized, “Oh! You mean Kihara-sensei. You should really stop referring to her by her first name, even if you do--”
“Shut up!” another slap of the purse.
“Okay, okay...” he rubbed his face tenderly, quietly debating what to do. The way she had phrased it she'd do his homework, and all he had to do was join some school club?
“I think,” he decided with finality, “I'll do it.”
Tsubaki exclaimed with a short hop, “Of course you will! The first meeting is today, so don't be late.” she shortly walked away in the direction of a few other students.
Naoya eyed them carefully...he didn't recognize most of them, but one of them would certainly have stood out in a crowd.
Standing in front of the others was a blond boy with narrowed blue eyes, both of which were studying Naoya suspiciously.
Joel Keter. Naoya thought bitterly, turning away and to the lockers. No matter how much his family had donated to the school, or how many times Joel won the office of Student Council President, he'd still be a egotistic son of a bitch.
The second Naoya was out of earshot, the group huddled together.
“Hasegawa,” Joel said, his eyes resting upon Tsubaki now, “will he come?”
“Well...yeah, I guess.” she said solemnly, her eyes flitting from one place to another guiltily, “But couldn't we have just told him, Senpai?”
“No. It's imperative we keep his role a secret until he's ready. Until then, I want you to make sure he comes. I'll send Cho to keep an eye on him afterward. Chances are that if she fails to, your friend will die. Though it will be no big loss to Shield Corp.”
“But...!” Tsubaki exclaimed as the rest of the students left.
She whined softly, “Naoya-kun...”

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“C'mon, Tsubaki...” Naoya whined as his friend dragged him across the schoolyard, supposedly to the auditorium.
“I don't want you to be late, Naoya-kun!” Tsubaki chided as she pulled harder, yanking his feet off of the grass, “You were only given enough time to eat dinner – you can't go buy manga, too.”
She had gone after him to only learn he had gone all the way to the manga shop down the street to buy the few latest issues of...well, whatever the hell it was he was interested in.
“But it was for you, Tsubaki-chan...” he lied with the voice of a small child.
“Shut up and get going!” she shoved him into the open doorway, following him in.
Before the two was a tall woman with her hair tied into a long, crimson ponytail with a pink bow. She adjusted her glasses carefully as she studied the two, asking, “Are you two quite done? Hasegawa, you're late.”
When Naoya looked to Tsubaki, she had gone all red and answered, “H-H-H-Hi, Miss Kihara...”
“Hey, Miss Kihara.” Naoya said, looking past the woman. Being the coach for girls' volleyball, Yoshino Kihara was very tall, almost six feet, and she was also quite muscular, despite her slenderness. And her endowment, Naoya noted. It proved a challenge to see the few students bustling on the stage behind her.
“Keter's been waiting for you two in the back.” the coach said, grasping both of the students by the wrist, pulling them along.
“Hey, watch it!” Naoya exclaimed, drawing the attention of a few supervisors sitting in the audience.
“Tch,” Yoshino scoffed in frustration, yanking them harder and quickly pulling into an entrance under the stage.
“You didn't have to make such a fuss back there, Kisaragi.” she scolded Naoya as she let go of the two.
Naoya massaged his sore wrist, looking around. There were small candles covering the walls, just barely illuminating the tunnel.
“What is this place...?” he asked, studying the area around him. It almost had a mythic aura to it, like something out of a fantasy novel.
“This is the tunnel leading under the trap door.” the coach explained, walking further in, “It helps during plays when a character would 'disappear', and it leads to the backstage.”
The two followed behind her, with Naoya jumping a little when she punched a wall. The wall spun away from her fist.
“A false wall?” Naoya asked, his interest piqued.
“Yes, Kisaragi...” Yoshino groaned, “it's so it can't be heard by the audience, like the slam of a door.”
“Why put a door there at all, then?”
“Because it'd be boring otherwise. Now get in there.”
Yoshino pointed at a small room with mirrors lining the walls, chairs and tables scattered around. Seated at one such table was none other than Joel, who was flipping through some papers.
Naoya left the coach's side, followed closely by Tsubaki. He edged quietly, slowly, carefully towards the blonde. When he arrived at the table, Joel stood up, startling Tsubaki a little.
“May I take your coat, Kisaragi?” he offered, a smile as fake as they came upon his face.
Naoya resisted the urge to ask whether or not they had a butler for that and handed him the fur-lined jacket. He hardly wore it, anyways.
Joel accepted it graciously and hung it up on a nearby coat rack. He sat back down, his eyes narrowing as he studied Naoya.
“So,” he began, “why do you plan to join our club?”
“Honestly?” Naoya asked, rolling his eyes, “Because Tsubaki told me to. It's not like I have much else to do.”
Joel's face creased into an eery grin as he further prodded, “So you joined simply because Hasegawa asked, hm? You sound so very much like quite the pushover.”
Naoya balled his hands into fists, nails digging into his skin but managed to say with a laugh, “Yeah, that's me, Keter.”
“There's no need to be so formal, Kisaragi.” Joel said with a light laugh, “I'm only here to decide whether or not you're worthy to join our fine club.”
Naoya's eye twitched a little, a reaction caused by the utter need to break something without a means to. Why was he letting this guy get to him? More importantly, how was he getting to him? It was as if his very presence bothered Naoya...
“And what do you want me to do, Jo-Jo?” Naoya asked in as pleasant a voice as possible, seeing if he could get under this one's skin. Judging by Tsubaki's elbow digging into his side, Naoya gauged it was a bold move.
“Actually, I was wondering if we could have a quick blood sample.” Joel responded in a voice just as cheerful, “Safety measures and all – we don't want any sort of filthy diseases running amok when we must perform for thousands.”
A blood test? For a school club? Well if that doesn't take the--
“Ow.” Naoya muttered with a wince as Yoshino walked away with a small vial of his blood.
He jumped up from his seat and slammed his hands down on the table and yelled, “What the hell was that?! Did you just--”
“Take your blood without asking?” the blond sitting across from him said with a smile, “Indeed. But you came to us, correct? Besides,” he said with a waving of the hand, “it's vital that we examine your blood. It's fine, we have good people here.”
Good people, my ass, he thought, letting out a grimace.
“But anyways,” Joel continued, “what makes you worth our while? Do you have any skills that will provide us a good show? Athletic, agile, cunning?”
“No, but--”
“If you really are useless,” he explained with a smile, shaking his head, “you could aid Hasegawa in the SFX booth.”
“Actually, that sounds--”
“After all, trash sticks together, right?” a laugh escaped the blond's lips.
At this remark, Naoya's face turned blank as he registered what had been said. “The hell...?”
“Yes,” continued Joel with a bored expression, “neither of you can do anything right. You, falling asleep all the time in class, and Hasegawa...well, must I even explain? Her entire existence is garbage.”
Tsubaki winced at the words, but kept quiet.
He continued, “She's stupid, can't follow the simplest of directions. Though I shouldn't have expected much. Now that I think about it, perhaps it's your fault. After all, she was never so clueless until--”
“Shut up.” Naoya ordered, getting up from his seat and grabbing his jacket.
“Leaving already?” Joel asked, an almost puzzled look on his face, though it was very obviously feigned, “But we have so much more to talk about, Kisaragi.”
“No, we really don't.” he hung his jacket up on his shoulders and zipped it up, “C'mon, Tsubaki.”
Quiet, the girl followed him as he stomped to the door, giving it a good shove.
The door had other plans.
“What the hell?” he asked as he kicked the door. It still wouldn't budge.
“Well, it seems Miss Kihara's punch from earlier has jammed the door.” Joel observed, now walking towards the two with a smile as serene as ever plastered onto his face.
“Well, unjam it then, Keter!” Naoya ordered, backing off from the door.
“But why? Can't we have a little chat?”
“I'm leaving. Honestly, nothing is worth having to put up with you for hours on end.”
With another laugh, the blond insisted, “Oh, why can't you be friendlier, Kisaragi? After all, we're just--”
“Senpai, let us go, please.” Tsubaki pleaded from behind her friend.
Joel gave her some strange look, perhaps to send some sort of message. It looked frustrated, to Naoya.
With a sigh, Joel agreed, “Fine. Take him, Hasegawa.” he left to his seat.
The moment he sat down, Naoya asked, “Uh...the door?”
“It should be fine, by now.”
Just as Joel said, a weak push easily opened the door. With a look of awe, the two left backstage and walked down the candle-lit hall in the direction the coach had led them down.
“That guy gives me the creeps.” Naoya muttered, his hands dug into his jacket.
Still quiet as ever, Tsubaki followed him soundlessly. Not a word was spoken after that, the only sounds in the hall being the slapping of shoe against floor.
Naoya couldn't help but wonder why the hell Tsubaki would put up with a club leader like that, even if Miss Kihara was the adviser. There was no way such a small perk could match it.
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Before they knew it, the two were already outside. It was getting dark, and though it normally wouldn't be too cold around this time of the year, it was still rather chilly.
“Um...” Tsubaki began, breaking the silence, “I, uh, have to go home. My dad hasn't had dinner yet, and he couldn't cook to save his soul.”
“Right.” Naoya said with a nod, “I guess I'll see ya later.”
Quickly, Tsubaki turned and ran off in the direction of the residential district.
Naoya knew it would be unwise to go home just yet. For all he knew, his own dad's “friends” were still there...
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And so, he plodded through puddles in the direction of a nearby bakery. He'd have to take a few “shortcuts” to get there, but that was fine. Nobody was in the streets at this time of night. He eyed a nearby dumpster as he passed through an alley, taking note of the awful smells coming from it.
Like rotting meat, or blood.
Maybe someone had thrown out a dead squirrel they ran over, or something to that effect. Suddenly, Naoya felt the sensation of a drop of liquid hit the top of his head.
“Huh.” he observed, looking around for a dark cloud in the already pitch-black sky, “Is it gonna rain aga--”
He stopped his sentence when he suddenly heard haggard breathing behind him.
His eyes widened as his head slowly turned, allowing him to catch sight of the monstrosity. Hunched over him and drooling heavily was an enormous creature, with leathery green skin and a face that could break mirrors. Its greasy black hair hung down over its muscled body, which was easily twice as tall as a normal person, seeing as it was still taller than Naoya when it was squatting like that. It held an enormous club over its shoulders and wore only a tanned loincloth.
Now he had a better idea as to what was in the dumpster. And that he could be joining it soon.
Wasting no time with a cry for help, he bolted from the alley, shoes slapping against the concrete with a vigor he had never known. He felt his stomach lurch at the fetid odor behind him.
Again, that deep rasping behind him, accompanied by the grinding of flesh against stone as the sound became louder and louder. With a quick look behind, he could see the thing bounding behind him, now. It let out a bloodcurdling roar, and Naoya felt his heart beat ever faster.
Almost slipping, he turned a corner and crossed a street, letting his heart calm a little when he saw a car coming.
Maybe they'll see it, and maybe--
He felt his heart skip a beat when the car just passed the creature by as it plodded across the street. Those people...hadn't seen it at all.
Again, he flew into an alleyway, albeit a narrower one this time. As he slipped through the small crack between buildings, he suddenly realized something.
It can't get me in here.
Finally letting out a deep sigh, he pressed himself against the wall caught his breath. He noticed vapor forming upon his breath. Had it suddenly gotten colder? He doubted it.
After a few minutes of waiting, Naoya slipped out of the narrow space and into a small lot on the other side, wiping the sweat from his brow.
“What...was...that?” he asked himself between huffs and puffs.
He had never seen anything like that in his entire life, let alone in a perfectly normal city. And why hadn't that car stopped, why didn't anyone notice?
He had finally caught his breath. But that wasn't the end of the raspy breathing sounds.
Without even needing to look around, he realized it was back, and his legs did the rest. But he wasn't fast enough, this time.
The thing lunged for him, grabbing him by the ankles and lifting him into the air. It opened its maw, revealing very human-like teeth and releasing a putrid odor akin to the rot in that dumpster.
This wouldn't be pleasant, not at all.
As he dangled only a yard above the creature's face, Naoya shut his eyes and pleaded with whatever god may be out there, please let this be a nightmare, please don't let this be real!
“Don't let me die like this, dammit!” he exclaimed, just as he felt the grip on his ankle weaken.
Suddenly, he felt something warm and red spatter across his face. He slowly opened one eye. Then two. They were greeted by a bloody mess. Some weapon akin to a sword had been plunged into the back of the creature's head. Naoya saw the ground rushing towards him instead of large teeth, and that he was thankful for. Until he hit his head on said ground.
“Ow...dammit.” he muttered, rubbing his aching head as he picked himself up off the ground. When his eyes came back to the carnage only feet away, he jumped back with a girly yelp and felt a little queasy. Maybe then would have been a good time to barf, since he had wanted to ever since the chase started.
Stopping himself from blowing chunks, he peered around the obviously dead monster to see the source of whatever had killed it. There he saw a young man, wearing a long black ponytail and a frayed white kimono with a swirling cyan pattern, spattered with crimson.
Like some sort of samurai from a manga, Naoya noted.
“Uh...hello?” he greeted warily. After all, he didn't want to be met with the same fate as that creature. The samurai swiftly drew his sword from the creature's skull, and Naoya noticed something odd about it. It was one of those ceremonial swords, one with seven “branches” on them. He had only ever seen them on TV, but they weren't supposed to be battle-ready, right?
“Hello,” the samurai greeted, locking the weapon into a clip on his side, “I do believe you called, Master Kisaragi.”
“M-Master...what?” Naoya asked, an incredulous look apparent on his face.
“Kisaragi.” the samurai looked puzzled, an odd look for someone with clothes soaked in gore, “That is your name...correct?”
“Uh, yeah.” Naoya still hadn't quite absorbed all that had just happened. “W-what do you mean I called?”
With a nonchalant laugh the warrior pointed out, “You did ask for someone to not let you die here, right?” when he received a nod from Naoya, he continued with a solemn tone, “I'm that someone. My name is Susanoo.”
Naoya let the name soak into his brain for a bit. He knew he had heard the name before. The sword, the kimono, the carefree attitude...what did that point to?
“You...do know me, right?” Susanoo asked, somewhat perturbed at his “master's” inability to recognize his name.
Then it hit him. He had never been very studious, nor very religious or even interested in the stories his parents would tell him. Of course he hadn't recognized it.
“That's the name of a god.” Naoya breathed, not quite ready for what was to come.
“Bingo!”
Just that one word. That one word seemed absolutely ridiculous.
What would a god want with me? No, this guy's probably just some psycho in a costume, or a cosplayer, or maybe they were filming a movie, or maybe--
Suddenly, Naoya heard a quiet creaking sound, accompanied by an order.
“Freeze, Kisaragi.”
Naoya very, very slowly turned on his heel, catching sight of a girl with black hair tied back into two pigtails from the top of her head, with an icy look in her cold blue eyes. But that wasn't what he paid attention to...no, he was looking at the steel bow she had in her hands. More specifically, the head of the arrow that she had readied, pointing straight at him.
“Kisaragi, Naoya.” she muttered in a cold tone, “You have defiled the sacred law of the contract. We of Shield Corporation charge you with unauthorized use of your Guardian and with the obstruction of--”
“What the hell is going on here?!” Naoya finally burst, letting loose all of the anxiety of almost being killed – twice, now!
“Oh.” the girl said unintelligibly, putting down her readied bow, “I guess you don't know.”
“I don't even know what I don't know about! Would you kindly fill me in?!”
She sighed, “Chill out, dude.”
“Chill? CHILL?! I almost got eaten by a freaking monster, and you try to freaking kill me, what the hell is it you want?!”
“Well, do you want more monsters chasing you down and trying to kill you?”
That was quite the blunt question. It boils down to one simple question.
Live, or die?
To eat, or be eaten?
To be, or not to be?
That was the question. Naoya couldn't understand this – this was all new! There were more monsters? They wanted him? Why? Why him?
There was only one way to find out.
“You know about the monsters.” Naoya said, pointing to the bloody mess behind him, “You know about...Susie over here.” signaling towards the samurai, who gave a friendly wave, “So tell me. How can I get them to leave me alone?”
A small smile formed on the girl's face, as she offered her hand and insisted, “You come with me to Shield Corp.”
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As much as I hate to cut you off here, you'll have to wait for the second chapter to see what happens next! Who is this mysterious girl? What is Shield Corporation? And what the hell is a samurai doing in a modern city? All answered in chapter two: Behind A Thousand Shields.
On a side note, thank you to all that have aided me in the process of revamping this old story from its lackluster origins. Please leave a review, whether you liked this story or not. Constructive criticism encouraged!
...But only constructive, please? See ya next chapter!