Fajar Purnama Highschool DxD Fan Fiction Project - Route 0 Fajar Purnama

📅 Route 0: The Prologue

Date: Sunday Evening Location: 2LDK Apartment, Kuoh Town.

The cardboard boxes are still half-packed.

I looked at the calendar on my phone. Three weeks.

That’s the hard limit. Let’s see, the narative is due to a visa complication and the abrupt nature of my parent’s research grant ending, I only have three weeks in this Japanese high school.

Three weeks to experience the “Youth” I felt I missed out.

I looked in the mirror. Just a guy. Not ugly, but not striking. Average build. A bit stiff in the shoulders. I took a deep breath, trying to apply what I’d read about Bio-Feedback. I forced my shoulders to drop, trying to manually lower my heart rate.

“Let’s try not being an invisible guy this time,” I told my reflection. “Let’s try making memories.”

📅 Route 0: Day 0

Date: Monday Morning Location: Kuoh Academy, Class 2-B.

08:30 AM - The Introduction

The uniform felt tight around the collar. Kuoh Academy was formerly an all-girls school, and you could tell. The ratio was skewed. The hallways smelled of perfume and expensive shampoo. For a guy who spent his teenage years burying his head in books and video games to avoid eye contact, this was a battlefield.

I stood at the front of the class.

“Everyone, we have a short-term exchange student,” the teacher announced, sounding bored. “Please welcome Fajar Purnama.”

I bowed. 45 degrees. Textbooks said 45 degrees was polite. “Nice to meet you. I… I hope we can get along for the short time I am here.”

Polite applause. Scattered whispers. I scanned the room.

There were the “Normal” students. And then, there were the others. A blonde boy with a smile that felt too perfect (Kiba). A small, white-haired girl eating snacks who looked like she could bench press a truck (Koneko).

And then, sitting near the window, a brown-haired guy who looked like he was vibrating with restless energy.

12:15 PM - The Lunchroom Alliance

I didn’t want to eat alone. That was the old me. The new me had to be brave.

I saw the brown-haired guy from class sitting with two others—a guy with glasses and a shaved-head guy. They were arguing loudly. The rest of the cafeteria seemed to have drawn an invisible “Do Not Enter” circle around them.

Perfect, I thought. Outcasts.

I walked over with my tray. “Is this seat taken?”

The three of them stopped talking. The glasses guy (Motohama) adjusted his frames. The bald one (Matsuda) squinted.

The brown-haired guy—Hyoudou Issei—grinned. It was a stupid, wide, honest grin. “Fresh meat! You got guts sitting with the Perverted Trio, transfer student!”

“Perverted Trio?” I blinked. “Is that an official club name?”

They laughed. It wasn’t malicious. It was the laughter of guys who knew they were at the bottom of the food chain and didn’t care.

“I’m Issei. That’s Matsuda and Motohama,” Issei pointed with his chopstick. “We’re discussing the most important topic in the universe.”

“Which is?”

“Why the kendo club girls wear spats under their hakama,” Matsuda said with dead seriousness.

I sighed, but I sat down. It wasn’t the intellectual conversation my parents would want me to have, but it was conversation.

15:30 PM - The Vibe

As I walked home with them (they insisted on showing me the “best route,” which suspiciously went past the tennis courts), I felt it.

A strange… pressure.

It came from the Old School Building on the hill. Every time I looked at it, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. It triggered my Sensory Overclocking practice without me trying. The air felt heavier there, thicker.

“Scary place, huh?” Issei noticed me staring. “That’s the Occult Research Club. Rias Gremory runs it. She’s… well, she’s top tier.”

“Rias Gremory,” I repeated the name. It felt heavy on my tongue. Like a name I shouldn’t say too loud.

I looked at Issei. For a second, just a split second, the shadow stretching out from his feet looked wrong. It looked jagged. Like a wing.

I shook my head. Focus, Fajar. You’re just tired. Stick to the training.

“Hey, Fajar!” Issei slapped my back, nearly knocking the wind out of me. “You busy tonight? We’re planning something big for tomorrow morning. Operation: Peeping Tom. You in?”

The old me would have run away. The moral part of me wanted to lecture them. But the lonely part of me? The part that knew I was leaving in three weeks and might never see these idiots again?

“I… I’ll come watch,” I said. “But I’m not peeping. I’m just… observing the environment.”

“That’s the spirit!” Issei cheered.

22:00 PM - The Night Routine

Back in my room. I felt exhausted, but not physically. Socially.

I sat on the floor, legs crossed. Module 4: Mental Reset.

I closed my eyes. I visualized the day. The noise of the cafeteria. Issei’s weirdly intense energy. The ominous feeling of the Old School Building.

I breathed in. I am here. I breathed out. I am normal.

I have three weeks. I don’t know why, but I feel like if I don’t survive these three weeks… I’ll lose something more important than just time.

I laid down to sleep. Tomorrow is Monday. The real schedule begins.

Route 0: Day 1

Date: Monday Location: Kuoh Academy Status: Normal Human (Bruised Ego & Body)

🌅 Morning: The Quartet & Bio-Maintenance

07:45 AM - Behind the Old Gym

The air was crisp. Too crisp. It felt like the calm before an execution.

“Alright, listen up,” Issei whispered, huddling us into a circle. “The target is the Kendo Club changing room. The ventilation shaft on the east side has a loose grate. Matsuda, you bring the screwdriver. Motohama, you’re on optics. Fajar… you’re the lookout.”

“Why am I the lookout?” I asked, adjusting my bag.

“Because you have the ‘innocent transfer student’ face,” Matsuda grinned, giving a thumbs up. “If a teacher comes, just pretend you’re lost.”

I sighed. My first day of ‘Youth’ and I was an accomplice to a felony.

While they argued about angles and lens apertures, I leaned against the brick wall. I wasn’t just leaning; I was performing 1. Bio-Maintenance (Stretching & Mobility).

I rolled my ankles, feeling the pop of nitrogen bubbles. I extended my neck, engaging the trapezius. Internal Note: The body is stiff from stress. Cortisol is high. Need to lubricate the joints. If we have to run, a cold hamstring means a torn hamstring.

“Look at him,” Motohama adjusted his glasses. “He’s limbering up. Fajar takes peeping seriously.”

“No,” I muttered, rotating my shoulders. “I just have a bad feeling about this.”

☀️ Class/Noon: The Neuro-Somatic Drill

10:30 AM - Math Class

The teacher was droning on about quadratic equations. My eyes were open, but my brain was elsewhere.

I looked two desks over. Issei was asleep, drooling slightly. But even in his sleep, there was that… vibration. It was subtle, like a distinct hum that only I could feel.

Focus, I told myself. Don’t look at the supernatural. Look at your own hardware.

I shifted in my seat, placing my feet flat on the floor. I initiated 8. Neuro-Somatic Cultivation (Bio-Feedback).

Step 1: The Physiological Sigh. Double inhale through the nose. Sniff. Sniff. Long exhale through the mouth.

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Step 2: The Scan. I mentally traced the line from my neck down to my stomach. I could feel the lunch I ate (cheap convenience store bread) sitting heavy.

Step 3: The Shift. I visualized a switch flipping from “Alert” to “Calm.” My heart rate dropped from 85 bpm to 72 bpm.

It wasn’t magic. It was biology. By manually engaging the parasympathetic nervous system, I was conserving energy that Issei was currently wasting by twitching in his sleep.

🍱 Lunch: The Pact

12:30 PM - Cafeteria

“We strike after school,” Issei announced, stabbing a sausage with his fork. “The Kendo girls change at 3:45 PM exactly.”

I chewed my rice slowly. “Issei, have you considered that Kendo practitioners carry wooden swords? And that they know how to use them?”

“High risk, high reward!” Matsuda cheered.

I looked at the three of them. They were idiots. But they were my idiots. For three weeks, at least.

⚔️ Afternoon: The Massacre

15:45 PM - Outside the Kendo Dojo

We were in the bushes. The smell of soil and leaves was overpowering.

“Quiet,” Motohama hissed.

I was trying. I really was. I was attempting 5. Sensory Overclocking (Ninja Training) and 12. The Art of Invisibility (Stealth).

Technique: Breathe through the mouth to silence the windpipe.

Technique: Step toe-to-heel to dampen impact.

I was doing okay. I was silent. Issei, however, was not.

“Oh my god,” Issei gasped, his voice cracking. “I see a shoulder blade!”

SNAP.

Issei stepped on a dry branch. It sounded like a gunshot in the quiet afternoon.

The window of the dojo slammed open. “WHO’S THERE?!”

It was Katase. And Murayama. And they were armed.

“RUN!” Matsuda screamed, abandoning all honor.

“WAIT FOR ME!” Issei scrambled up.

I tried to move. I tried to use 14. Traverse & Adapt (Parkour) to vault over the hedge.

Reality Check: I am not a ninja. I am a student who spent yesterday stretching.

My foot caught on a root. I stumbled. Before I could recover, a shinai (bamboo sword) came down.

WHACK.

“OW!” I took a solid hit to the shoulder.

“PERVERTS!” Murayama yelled, swinging again.

I didn’t fight back. I couldn’t. I just curled up and protected my head, letting the adrenaline numb the pain as I scrambled backward, crab-walking away from the furious amazons.

We escaped. Barely. We regrouped at the park, panting, bruised, and humiliated.

“Worth it,” Issei wheezed, nursing a bump on his head.

I rubbed my throbbing shoulder. “I hate you guys.” But I was smiling. It hurt, but it was a memory.

🌙 Evening: Recovery & Ground Mechanics

19:00 PM - Fajar’s Apartment

My shoulder was turning a lovely shade of purple. The Kendo girls didn’t hold back.

“Okay,” I winced, looking at the bruise in the bathroom mirror. “Damage assessment: Contusion on the left deltoid. Minor scrape on the shin.”

I couldn’t just lie down. Stiff muscles heal slower. I needed blood flow.

I moved to the living room floor for 2. Primal Movement (Ground Mechanics) and 3. Functional Dynamics.

Instead of standard pushups, I did “Lizard Crawls.”

Action: I stayed low to the ground, moving my left hand and right foot forward, then switching.

Goal: It forced my spine to rotate and my core to stabilize, flushing fresh blood into the bruised shoulder without high impact.

Then, “Rocking.”

Action: Hands and knees. Rocking hips back to heels, then forward.

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Result: It calmed the nervous system. The rhythmic motion told my body, “ The threat is gone. You can heal now.”

I realized something terrifying today. Issei took a hit to the head that would have concussed me, and he was laughing ten minutes later. I am fragile. If I want to survive even the mundane hazards of this school, I need to be better.

🛌 Night: The Reset

22:00 PM - Bedroom

I laid in bed, staring at the ceiling. The adrenaline was finally fading, leaving just the dull ache.

1. Mental Reset (Meditation & Empty Mind).

I closed my eyes. I didn’t try to stop my thoughts. I just watched them.

The sound of the bamboo sword hitting flesh.

The fear in my gut when they yelled.

The laughter at the park.

I visualized putting each memory into a box and closing the lid. Inhale. Exhale.

I drifted toward sleep. Outside my window, far in the distance, a crow cawed. It sounded wrong. Too mechanical. I ignored it. I’m just a normal student. I have 20 days left.

Route 0: Day 2

Date: Tuesday Location: Kuoh Academy & Apartment Status: Normal Human (Sore, but adapting)

🌅 Morning: The Foundation

06:00 AM - Living Room Floor

My alarm went off. I rolled over, and my left shoulder immediately screamed in protest. The shinai strike from yesterday left a deep, purple contusion.

Okay. Time to boot up the system.

I dragged myself onto the floor for Tier 1: Foundation & Maintenance (1 - 4).

1. Bio-Maintenance: I started with gentle neck and shoulder rotations. I avoided stretching the bruised muscle directly; instead, I stretched the opposing muscles (the pectorals) to relieve tension on the back.

2. Primal Movement: I transitioned into a slow “Bear Crawl.” It hurt, but the mechanical pressure forced blood to circulate through the damaged tissues, carrying away the lactic acid and cellular waste.

3. Functional Dynamics: I practiced moving from the floor to a standing position without using my hands, relying entirely on core and hip stability.

4. Mental Reset: Five minutes of dead silence. Reminding myself: I have 19 days left. Pain is just a biological signal. Do not let it dictate the mood.

By the time I put on my uniform, the sharp pain had dulled to a manageable ache.

☀️ Class/Noon: The Ant Crawl

11:15 AM - History Class

The teacher was discussing the Edo period. Issei, predictably, was sketching something highly inappropriate in his notebook. I needed to be productive without looking like I was doing anything.

Time for 8. Neuro-Somatic Cultivation (Bio-Feedback). Today’s target: The Extremities (Foot-Shaoyin pathway).

I placed my feet flat against the floor inside my shoes. I closed my eyes just a fraction, blurring the blackboard, and shifted my brain to the NSDR (Non-Sleep Deep Rest) border state.

The Focus: I directed 100% of my sensory attention to my right toes. Big toe. Second toe. Middle. Ring. Pinky.

The Symptom: Within two minutes, it started. Formication. The “ants crawling” sensation. It felt like carbonated water bubbling just under the skin of my sole. It was maddeningly itchy.

The Fix: The natural reflex is to shift the foot or scratch it. I refused. I used the “Parking” technique. I held my attention right on the itch and breathed out slowly. I am safe. Open the capillaries. * The Shift: After thirty seconds of agony, the itch suddenly “popped.” The static noise vanished, replaced by a deep, heavy warmth. Vasodilation achieved. I successfully commanded my nervous system to flush blood into my foot just by thinking about it.

I smiled slightly. Level up.

🍱 Lunch: The Contraband Trade

12:40 PM - Behind the Main Building

“Behold,” Motohama whispered, adjusting his glasses until they glinted in the sun. He pulled a slightly crumpled magazine from his blazer. “The holy grail. Busty Babes Monthly, limited edition.”

Matsuda gasped, falling to his knees. “You actually got it!”

Issei wiped a fake tear from his eye. “Motohama… you’re a hero.”

I sat on a nearby bench, eating a rice ball, watching the Magazine Trading ritual. It was so utterly, painfully mundane. They analyzed the glossy pages like scholars deciphering an ancient text.

“Fajar, you have to see this,” Issei thrust the magazine toward me.

“I’m good, Issei,” I said, waving it off. “I prefer… real-world anatomy.”

“Suit yourself,” Issei shrugged, diving back into the huddle.

It was ridiculous, but being around them was grounding. It reminded me of exactly what I was supposed to be: a dumb high schooler killing time.

⚔️ Afternoon: The Warning & The Iron

15:30 PM - The Old Gym Storage

I was taking a shortcut behind the old gym, looking for a quiet place to stretch, when the temperature seemed to drop ten degrees.

I stopped. My Sensory Overclocking flared up. Every hair on my arms stood on end.

A small girl with white hair and a Kuoh Academy uniform was standing in the doorway of the gym storage. Koneko Toujou. She was holding a wooden crate that looked like it weighed at least eighty pounds, and she was holding it like it was filled with feathers.

She turned her gold eyes toward me. There was no hostility, just absolute, crushing apathy.

“Don’t go in there,” she said. Her voice was flat.

“I wasn’t—”

“Gym storage is off-limits to perverts,” she interrupted, her gaze locking onto me with the pressure of a physical weight. “Go away. Or you’ll get hurt.”

She didn’t wait for a response. She just turned and walked into the shadows. I felt a cold sweat on my neck. That wasn’t normal. That wasn’t a normal human girl. 16:00 PM - The Modern Gym

I took her advice and retreated to the regular, well-lit school gym. I needed to ground myself in physics and biology.

1. Anatomical Optimization (Muscle Training). I grabbed a pair of moderate dumbbells. I wasn’t here to build massive size; I was here to optimize my hardware.

Technique: Slow eccentrics. I lifted the weight in one second, but took four agonizingly slow seconds to lower it.

Focus: Mind-muscle connection. I wasn’t just moving weight; I was visualizing the muscle fibers contracting and tearing micro-scopically. I imagined the fascial web tightening. I was building density, not volume.

🌙 Evening: Stress Inoculation

20:00 PM - Fajar’s Apartment

My physical body was tired, but my nervous system needed testing.

I turned off all the lights in my room, put on noise-canceling headphones, and booted up a notoriously terrifying psychological horror game on my laptop.

1. Stress Inoculation (Fear Training). The goal wasn’t just to play the game. The goal was to control the chemical dump of fear. I kept a finger lightly pressed to my carotid artery.

I walked down a dark digital hallway. The music swelled. BAM! A grotesque face smashed through the screen with a deafening screech.

My heart spiked. I felt the jolt of adrenaline, the classic “Sympathetic” fight-or-flight response. Immediately, I paused the game.

Double inhale through the nose. Long exhale through the mouth. (The Physiological Sigh).

I forced my shoulders to drop. I forced my hands to un-clench.

I sat there until my heart rate returned to resting baseline. Then, I unpaused. I subjected myself to the terror again and again, conditioning my body to recover from panic in seconds rather than minutes. If a real monster ever jumped out at me, freezing in fear meant death.

🛌 Night: The Reset

23:30 PM - Bedroom

I was exhausted. My shoulder throbbed, my toes felt overly sensitive, and my adrenal glands were drained from the horror game.

I lay in bed. 4. Mental Reset. I visualized a blackboard. I mentally erased Koneko’s golden eyes. I erased Issei’s magazine. I erased the jump scares.

Just black. Just the void.

19 days left.

The world outside my window was quiet. I let the darkness take me.