AN: So this is just a little something that my overactive brain cooked up. I don't know what possessed me to write this, but, well, something did.

I like Unlimited Fafnir quite a bit. I was really kinda sad when the anime came out and my hopes were shattered into more pieces than Code Lost was. That was a bad joke, and I recognize that.

Enough of my rambling. This is the prologue to a Unlimited Fafnir/High School DxD crossover. There will be two primary protagonists, Yuu and Charl, and the PoV will flip flop.

Anyway, I hope you readers enjoy this thing, even if it's a bit corny and rehash-ish. Reviews are always welcome.

Disclaimer: I own neither Unlimited Fafnir nor High School DxD.

Don't come, don't come, don't come….

Eyes shut, I stumbled forward muttering the same two words under my breath. I pleaded them. I pleaded for the girls who shared my mark to stay far away. I couldn't let them near me, not while I was desperately fighting back the surging killing intent.

Faces started to form against the darkness of my eyelids. Precious voices echoed in my ear. I couldn't let them; I couldn't allow myself to think of them.


I dug my fingers into one of the many bullet holes left from my battle with Major Loki. The pain pushed all of the other thoughts out of the forefront of my thoughts. I grunted in agony as I began to scratch at the wound from within.

Despite the pain, I continued to move until my stretched out hand felt the cool metal of the elevator. I opened my eyes, now that I was sure there was no one to be seen, and selected the button that would take me to the highest floor.

The jolt of the elevator beginning its ascent caused my legs to collapse beneath me. I turned my head down to assess my injuries. My shirt was thoroughly soaked with blood, most of it mine, though I was sure a good volume of it was Major Loki's.

Though I may have won the fight, I didn't get away anywhere near unscathed. Bullet wounds littered my torso and chunks of my arms and legs were missing, either taken off by bullet or knife.


With the sound of the elevator, I forced my body upright. I swayed side to side as I rose, black spots appearing and clouding my vision. I'd probably lost a good amount of blood already; it was only a matter of time before I dropped. Really, it was a miracle I was even conscious now, much less able to walk as far as I had.

I looked down the hallway, searching for the room I needed and finding it in no time at all. I shut my eyes and began to walk. There were still others on the floor and I couldn't risk seeing their faces.

I stood in front of the principal's office and reached out to grab the knob with a trembling hand. A breathed deeply to calm myself. In and out. In and out. This was it. After I opened the door, the others would be safe. Safe from me, from the overwhelming murderous intent of Fafnir. Safe from Code Lost, the authority that allowed its host to kill with only a thought.

My courage renewed, I twisted the knob and stepped inside the office. I felt a cool breeze against my face.

I heard panting, soft and pained, and knew I was right to come here. It had been nothing more than a hunch, but I was beyond relieved that it all worked out. I walked in to the center of the room and sat down, facing away from the other occupant.

This was something I could ask only my friend to do. Her name danced on the tip of my tongue but I desperately shoved it down. I could never forgive myself if anything happened to her because of me.

I didn't want to force this on her, but I really had no other choice. Well, there was one other option, but I'd never, ever ask the only other person who was capable of resolving my issue to help me. It would be way too cruel to ask this of someone so young. She'd never forgive herself.

In and out, in and out. My racing heart stilled. I opened my mouth to speak my wish.

"Control me."

"Kill me."

Um...what? Any other words died on my tongue as our words overlapped. I guess my friend was just as confused, judging by the silence that had fallen between us.

"I can't suppress my killing intent for much longer and Code Lost is causing me to kill people just by thinking about them," I clarified. "So I need you to use your authority. Control me. If I can kill with a thought, then I need to stop thinking. If you don't, I could end up wiping out everyone at Midgard- no, everyone on Earth just by thinking about it; no one is safe until I'm gone."

"Sorry, but I can't do that," she protested.

"No, you don't under-"

"You're the one who doesn't understand," she muttered weakly. "I can't control all of this blood. My power is controlling people regardless of my will,; I could end up wiping out the mind of every member of the human race. That's why I need you to kill me before I affect more people."

Well...this was ironic. Two monsters with inhuman powers that way surpassed even those that had the powers of dragons begging for the other to kill them. The grim humor wasn't lost on me, and I let out a dry laugh. After a moment, my friend fell on the ground next to me and joined me in my laughter.

At some point, our laughter changed into choked sobs. I felt something wet roll down my cheeks, but didn't bother wiping the tears. I didn't care if my friend could see them. Neither of us probably looked very pretty at the moment, with tears mixing with blood and leaving streaks of red down our faces.

Silence reigned between us. We were too exhausted to try to argue further. Neither of us would budge from our positions and we both knew that. We were both too stubborn.

"I guess it doesn't matter; I'll die once I run out of blood anyway," I broke the silence. It was only a matter of time. If I could just refrain from thinking about any of the others until I lost consciousness, I'd be fine.

"Not before you kill me, you won't," she protested.

"Is there really no other way? Can't you control it somehow?"

She heaved a weary sigh in response. "My blood will keep multiplying endlessly without any input from the authority holder. It's out of my hands now."


I didn't know what to say., but apparently she did.

"Say, what do you think about this: I won't control you. I'll kill you. I'll take your life and you'll take mine. It'll be an exchange."

"A double suicide…?"

I wonder just how screwed up our lives must be if we're both honestly considering suicide to be an attractive option.

"Isn't that supposed be something romantic? I'm flattered, but I hope you've realized that I'm not a girl," I weakly smiled. Joking around with her was always fun. Even when I'm on my deathbed, apparently.

"Don't misunderstand. I would never consider asking asking this of anyone other than a beautiful girl under normal circumstances."

Wait, if circumstances were normal, she'd actually ask someone to die together with her? Wow, she never ceases to amaze. She really can't be underestimated.

"But I guess dying together with my best friend wouldn't be too bad either," she said in a voice almost too quiet to hear.

The thought was comforting, oddly. We hadn't spent too much time together before, so I was kind of surprised she thought so highly of me. It was almost humbling.

"...I guess I wouldn't mind that."



"Well, this really is it then, isn't it?"


I heard her the sound of shuffling grow further away before it returned. I could feel something sharp press up against my wrist. It wasn't the cool steel of a blade, I knew. It felt more like glass than anything else. Had that breeze from earlier come through a broken window?

I shook my head to clear my thoughts. I was just trying to delay. I made up my mind and commanded her:

"Do it."

The glass trembled against my skin. Compared to my other wounds, the slicing movement barely registered to my senses, but the warm liquid seeping from my wrist told me otherwise.

The makeshift knife was gently deposited in my hand, to my surprise.

"I don't need this to do it, you know?" The words came out more slurred than I would have liked, but I guess that's a good thing.

"Humor me."

I did so. A quick motion put us in the same condition. Well, not exactly. I was pretty sure I had her beat in the wounds department.

"Haa…" she sighed, "I always thought I'd have a beautiful young girl by my side when I finally passed on..."

"Well, sorry I'm not what you wanted. For the record, I wasn't really expecting this sort of situation either." That was true. I'd at least wanted to have a normal death with my sister by my side. Instead I got stuck committing suicide with a perverted principal. Then again, I'd always had a knack for finding myself in abnormal situations. Being the only male D, having green dragons in my head, killing a 'dragon' before most people graduate primary school, being trained as an assassin, gaining a superpower piece by piece, going to an all-girls school, having a daughter...

"Fufufu. Is it too late to have you change into a maid outfit and a wig? You'd look really cute…"

"Not a...chance…" I muttered. "Let least die...with dignity…"

"What dignity? This is coming from the same person who marked several attractive young girls as his 'mates?' I'm really jealous, you know!"

I didn't bother replying to that one, but I'm sure my cheeks would've heated up if I had enough blood to spare. And my eyelids were feeling kind of heavy. I felt like I had no energy at all. My body seemed to be growing colder and colder all the while we bickered.

She seemed to be in a better state than I was, but that's a given. She didn't have numerous holes and missing sections of flesh to bleed out from.

"Are you still there? You better not go before me, okay? That would make you a very inconsiderate friend!"

I felt bad, but I couldn't concentrate on what my friend was saying. Other things filled my thoughts. Faces that I was desperately trying to get rid of.

To die without even being able to think of friends or tragic. I could feel her authority combating mine, weakening its effects, but I still didn't want to take the risk of thinking about the others. I'd be a real failure if I let a moment of weakness drag my precious friends and family down together with me.


A warm hand grabbed mine, which felt ice cold. My hand seemed to grow warmer, leeching the energy from the warmth covering it. Fingers interlaced mine and gave a feeble squeeze.

I couldn't hear anything else. I couldn't tell whether my friend had given up on talking to a corpse or if she was still trying to get a response, but I figured it was the latter.

I focused on the warmth of the hand in mine. It was soothing, drawing me closer and closer to sleep. Closer to death. My consciousness began to fade.

My hand fell limp in the grasp of Charlotte B. Lord, my best friend.