Act 1, Chapter 12: The Nine Circles

Saturday, 7 a.m. Hiroki curled in the bed like a cocoon, snoring like an exhausted dark warrior who had endured consecutive battles, relishing the weekend's promise of lazy freedom.

However...

"!!!"

A painful jab at his left waist startled him awake, his pulse racing as if someone had stabbed him in a nightmare. He leaped up, gasping, only to realize it wasn't real but just a prank. Turns out it was Aoi Mizuno. She stood behind him, dressed in sportswear and holding a retractable toy knife, her turquoise eye gleaming with mischief behind her black eyepatch.

"A-AOI?!" Hiroki yelped. "What are you doing here? What were you thinking?!"

He threw a light karate chop to her head in retaliation. Aoi winced, rubbing the spot, then dramatically swung her sports towel as a nunchuck. "Dark Lord of Tartarus! Let's forge your potential to realms beyond!"

"Morning jog? Pass!" Hiroki groaned and sank back into his pillow.
But Aoi yanked his blanket off and repeatedly stabbed his waist with the toy knife. "The Priestess shall not accept excuses!" She declared, her chuunibyou flaming.

Hiroki snapped, springing out of bed. "Aaagghhh! Fine, fine! Lemme hit the toilet first!" He stormed out, slamming the door.

Aoi yelled. "Godspeed, Dark Lord—"

"Shut up," he snapped back.

Hiroki's mind raced as the water splashed on his face. Aoi, a chuunibyou to the core, was astonishingly athletic. He'd ditched his own chuunibyou phase to blend in, cringing at his "Dark Lord" past. Yet, Aoi embraced hers with no shame, attracting fangirls who adored her dramatic stances.

Was rejecting that flair a mistake? Her unapologetic weirdness seemed to defy the mundane dystopia of high school routine, a spark he tossed it all away.

***

The morning jog around the nearby park felt like going through Dante's nine circles of hell. Hiroki's legs grew numb, sweat soaked his shirt, and his energy was drained like a vampire had bled him dry. Aoi was barely breaking a sweat and looked back as he slowed down. "Dark Lord, you're too slow!"

"S-shut up!" He panted, wiping his brow from the sweat.

She chuckled, her expression sly and playful. "Seems the Dark Lord of Tartarus had grown weak, huh?" She jogged ahead, leaving him gasping.

"Hey! Don’t leave me behind!" His plea was mounting frustration.

The jog was like a grueling bark, acting as a harsh consequence of his weekend laziness. Aoi's invitation felt like a jolting wake-up call, but it was too intense for Hiroki's liking. He'd rather take it easy over this relentless sprint. He finally caught up with her at a vending machine, and Hiroki bowed over with a heaving pant.

Aoi stood smug with a towel over her shoulder. "Hehe! That’s what you get for letting your guard down!"

Hiroki glared in frustration, sweat trickling down his flushed face, adding to his discomfort. "Slow… down… will ya?"

Aoi pointed at him, her chuunibyou flaring. "What’s wrong? Is it time for the Dark Lord himself to finally repent and seek the light of our gracious Father?"

Hiroki patted her sweaty shoulder, his eyebrows furrowed with exasperation. "Can’t you please drop the chuunibyou bullshit?! I’m fighting for my life here!"

She shrugged him off, a pout forming on her lips. "You’re excusing too much!"

"I'm just asking you to slow down!" he snapped. "Is that so hard?"

"Gotta cool off!" he muttered, stumbling to the vending machine.

"Dark Lord—" Aoi started.

"I don’t care! I’m getting a drink!" he cut in, fishing for coins.

"But I’m saying watch your sugar intake…" she trailed off.

Exhausted, they slumped against the vending machine, seeking respite from the sweltering heat.

***

Hiroki and Aoi fell under a tree near the park's vending machine, emptying the isotonic water to cool their sweaty bodies. The morning jog had been a journey to the nine circles, numbing Hiroki's legs and draining him.

Aoi sat unconcerned, her sportswear soaked but her spirit unshakable. Hiroki gulped the last of his drink, gasping for air. "So, how long have you been jogging like this?"

She closed her bottle and gazed at the blue water canal beside the park. "Long ago, my sister pushed me to forge the light within my spirit."

"Stamina, huh? Interesting," Hiroki nodded. "So, how was hanging with Mei, Yuna, and Sara last Friday evening?" He poked at her with a smirk.

Aoi’s face soured and she pouted as she clenched the isotonic bottle. "They are the worst!"

Hiroki chuckled and poked at Aoi. "What? Can’t take a joke?"

"They are vile succubi I must purge!" Aoi's priestess persona snapped as she clenched her fist. "Sara Fujimoto, Mei Hashimoto, and Yuna Aoki—they are the disciples of that damned Lilith!" Her eyes blazed with fury.

Hiroki leaned closer. "Calm down, Aoi. They’re just being friendly. It’s about being normal, ok?" He tried to reason with her.

Aoi removed her left eyepatch; her turquoise eyes locked on his, her gaze blackened as if it pierced his soul. "Define normal."

Hiroki faltered, anticipating her typical antics. "Uh... normal is... not being weird... like you."

"Was that it?" Aoi's voice sharpened, her gaze akin to a priestess giving judgment on a sinner. Her tone was low, yet forceful. "Here's the harsh truth: it's normal to be abnormal. That is the inherent state of mankind.
He froze; her words caught him off guard, piercing harder than he could have imagined, his head racing with thought. "Jesus Christ was viewed as a deranged individual for preaching his message. Henceforth, if calling out nonsense was considered a crime, then you are ruled by criminals." Her persistence was unwavering.

Hiroki’s breath caught. Aoi wasn’t just playing as the "Priestess"—she was telling him something he should listen to. The cringe of his "Dark Lord of Tartarus" past felt trivial.

Aoi softened and gazed toward the blue canal. "I know you tried to bury the Dark Lord inside you, but there will come a time when you crave it again, like adults longing to be kids."

Hiroki nodded slowly. Maybe she had a point. Normalcy wasn’t the absence of weirdness but embracing what made you human. Even "normal" people acted weird to break free. Maybe that's what made her chuunibyou symbolize her unique essence.

Aoi leaned closer, pointing the toy knife at him. "You know what? I still tolerate mistakes, but not quitters. Quitters are traitors to their own fire." Her glare was scornful, almost threatening.

Hiroki sighed softly as he gently lowered the toy knife. "I get it, Aoi-chan. Your chuunibyou lights up the school—everyone loves it. But please... moderate it. Don’t let it consume you, or everyone will turn against you. Just… control your ego, will ya?"

With a smirk, Aoi twirled her toy knife skillfully. "You’ll see, Dark Lord. A time will come—"

Her usual theatrics fatigued him; he raised his hand for another karate chop. "That’s en—"

However, she swiftly parried his karate chop and constantly jabbed his stomach with the toy knife in quick succession, teasing him with a mischievous grin. "Got your guard down!" she taunted, sprinting off.

"Hey! You little—!" Hiroki's frustration was boiling as he chased her, her chuunibyou back in full swing.

Aoi laughed. "Catch me if you can, Dark Lord of Tartarus!" They chased each other until exhaustion reclaimed them.

Perhaps Hiroki’s cringe at his chuunibyou past felt like a betrayal of the fire Kaito had nurtured in him. Hs "Dark Lord" wasn’t a phase to bury but a spark to ignite.