{Kouh Town, Narukami Residence}
Sleeping in her bed is a teenage girl with short black hair wearing a white tank top and blue plaid pajama pants. Her alarm clock is going off as she snores loudly, tangled in her blankets.
Her bedroom door slams open and a tall man in his early forties storms in with the intensity of a drill sergeant. Without hesitation, he plants his foot on the mattress and kicks her straight out of bed.
"Wake up, wake up! AOZORA!!" the eccentric man yells, grinning like it's the most normal way to start a morning.
"Dad, what the hell?!" Aozora Narukami groans from the floor, face pressed against the wooden boards.
Narukami Katsuo, her father, stands tall with crossed arms, wearing a sleeveless martial arts gi. His graying hair is slicked back, and his sharp eyes gleam with amusement. "A warrior rises with the sun! You'll never improve if you waste your mornings!"
Aozora slowly sits up, rubbing the back of her head. Her blue eyes glare at him as she mutters, "I'm seventeen, not seven. Normal dads use alarm clocks… not roundhouse kicks."
From the hallway, a gentle voice calls out. "Katsuo, stop terrorizing our daughter first thing in the morning."
Her mother, Emiko, appears holding a tray of breakfast. Her long black hair tied neatly back, she shakes her head at the sight of Aozora still sprawled on the floor. "Honestly, you two are impossible."
"Thanks, Mom," Aozora says as she drags herself up and flops back onto her bed.
"Oi, don't thank her!" Katsuo protests, pointing at his daughter. "Your lazy habits are why you'll never inherit the family dojo!"
"I don't want the dojo!" Aozora shoots back, pulling the blanket over her head.
In seconds, the father and daughter were bickering at full volume, trading insults like punches. Their voices echoed through the house until—
Whack!
Emiko smacked both of them on the head with her palm, her expression calm but terrifying.
"That's enough. Go wash your faces and eat breakfast."
The two froze in place, then bowed their heads at the same time.
"Yes, ma'am…" they chorused, sitting on their knees with hands in their laps like scolded children.
"Why do I have to live so far!" Aozora groaned as she sprinted down the road, schoolbag slung over her shoulder.
Unlike the other girls of Kuoh Academy, she wore the boys' uniform: a sharp black blazer with white trim, white dress shirt, and black slacks. The only hint of rebellion was the black ribbon tied loosely around her collar and the pair of blue-and-white high-top sneakers squeaking against the pavement.
Her hair whipped behind her as she darted past pedestrians, weaving between bikes and cars. A sedan honked angrily as she barely avoided its bumper.
"Oi! Watch where you're running!" the driver yelled out the window.
"Sorry!!" Aozora shouted back.
She cut down a familiar street and slowed as she passed the small, weathered convenience store that had stood there as long as she could remember. Outside, an elderly man sat in a lawn chair, a tiny box TV balanced on a crate, surrounded by a couple of other old-timers.
"Yo! Gramps, is Granny here?" Aozora called, skidding to a stop.
The man looked up from his cigarette and cracked a grin. "Ah, it's you. She's inside—already packed your food. Don't say I never spoil ya, kid."
"Thanks, you're the best," Aozora grinned, but then her eyes caught the flickering image on the box TV.
The news anchor was reporting a piece on the town's history: "Today marks the 50th anniversary since Akebono City was officially renamed Kouh Town…"
"Oi, Gramps," Aozora said, tilting her head curiously. "Kouh Town used to be called Akebono City?"
"Yup," the old man said, leaning back. "Over fifty years ago, this place was a hotspot for demons… or so they say. I was only four at the time. Don't remember much, just the grown-ups talking about one eyed purple looking demons in the streets."
"Demons, huh?" Aozora raised an eyebrow.
The old man chuckled, but his eyes had a faraway look as he puffed his cigarette.
Aozora shrugged, grabbed her bento from inside the shop, and broke into another run. "Well, thanks, Gramps! See ya later!"
By the time she reached Kuoh Academy's gates, her lungs were burning and her sneakers squeaked against the pavement. Waiting at the entrance were two familiar figures:
Murayama, with her long brown hair tied into a ponytail and her kendo shinai strapped to her bag, and Katase, sporting her short pink hair and a sharp grin. Both wore the girls' Kuoh uniform, their skirts swaying in the breeze as they spotted her rushing in.
"Took you long enough, Aozora!" Katase teased, crossing her arms.
"You're late again," Murayama added, her tone more matter-of-fact than scolding.
"Yeah, yeah, don't start," Aozora panted, bending over with her hands on her knees. "My old man thinks 'good morning' means 'kick your daughter out of bed.' You two should be thankful you don't live with a psycho martial artist."
Katase smirked. "Sounds like a fun way to wake up."
"Wanna trade? Be my guest," Aozora muttered, straightening up.
Murayama giggled, "Well, if you can still joke around, that means you have the energy for practice after class."
Aozora groaned. "Don't remind me…"

The morning passed by in the usual rhythm of classes, lectures, and half-hearted note-taking. By lunch break, Aozora was balancing a plastic bag with two chocolate milks and her boxed lunch from the convenience store. She strolled down the hallway with Murayama and Katase, joking about practice later, when—
BAM!
She collided shoulder-first into someone turning the corner.
The impact sent the girl's neat stack of papers fluttering through the air like snow, scattering across the floor. At the same time, one of Aozora's chocolate milks slipped from the bag, burst open on the tile, and splattered across the papers.
"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me…" Aozora groaned, staring at the ruined drink.
The girl she bumped into froze, Rias Gremory, Kouh Academy's number one Beauty, bent down quickly to gather her papers, but her hands stopped when she noticed the dark stain soaking across the pages. Her beautiful blue-green eyes narrowed sharply.
"You!" Rias snapped. "Do you even watch where you're going? These were important documents!"
Aozora blinked, stunned by the sudden anger. She clenched the remaining milk carton in her hand and barked back, "Hey, you're the one who barreled around the corner like a freight train! Maybe you should watch where you're going!"
"Do you have any idea—"
But Aozora cut her off, pointing a finger right back at her. "I don't care who you are, you don't get to yell at me for an accident. And now I'm down a chocolate milk, so if anything, I'm the real victim here!"
The hallway fell silent. A few students passing by froze, shocked that someone was actually yelling at Rias Gremory of all people. Murayama and Katase looked like they wanted to disappear.
Aozora huffed, grabbed her bag, and turned on her heel. "Tch. Whatever. Not worth it."
And just like that, she left Rias standing there, dripping papers in hand, her anger boiling hotter.
{After school}
The gym was quiet, too quiet. Only the creak of the wooden floor echoed as Aozora slid the last rack of practice gear back into place. She stretched her arms overhead, sighing.
"Wow, I've been in here that long?! I need to hurry up and get home before Mom gets mad…"
She bent down to gather her bag, but froze when she saw something fall at her feet. A black feather.
"…Huh?"
Aozora slowly looked up. More feathers drifted from nowhere, floating through the air. The overhead lights flickered once, then dimmed, plunging the room into an eerie twilight glow. Outside the window, the sky was impossibly dark, the pale, full moon staring down like an eye.
Her chest tightened suddenly—each breath felt heavier, like the air itself had been stolen. She coughed and instinctively reached for the nearest shinai.
"Still here so late, little one? How unfortunate… for you."
Aozora spun around, raising the bamboo blade into a shaky guard. At the edge of the gym, leaning casually as though he'd been there the entire time, stood a man.
A Middle-aged man with short black hair, dark-blue eyes, and a smile that felt more like a knife. He wore a pale gray trench coat draped elegantly over his shoulders, a white dress shirt with a neat ascot, pressed black pants, polished shoes, black gloves, and a fedora tipped just enough to shadow his face.
The smell of something metallic and wrong seemed to follow him.
Aozora swallowed, trying to steady her breathing despite the suffocating aura pressing down on her chest. She held the shinai firmly in both hands.
"Are you lost, sir? It's after school hours and clubs are closing for the day. You need to leave."
"Lost? No, no. I came here for something, and I finally found it."
His hand rose, almost lazily. With a snap of his fingers, black wings of shadow unfurled from his back, feathers scattering across the wooden floor.
Aozora's eyes widened, but she grit her teeth, dropping into a kendo stance.
"What the hell… are you?"
The suffocating pressure intensified, making her legs tremble.
Aozora felt a sudden, searing sting across her torso. Her eyes widened as the shinai in her grip was sliced clean in half, and before she could react, white-hot agony bloomed across her chest. Blood erupted from the wound, soaking through her Kuoh uniform.
"AAAAAHH—!!" She screamed, collapsing to her knees. Her breath hitched, her vision blurring as she coughed violently, crimson spilling from her lips onto the floor. She clutched the wound desperately, her trembling hands slick with her own blood.
Her eyes lifted, glassy with pain, just in time to see the man now holding a weapon—an eerie, glowing spear of pure blue light.
"W…wh-why…?" she gasped, her voice barely a whisper, choked by blood.
"Don't blame me, girl. It's nothing personal, I assure you, child." He lifted the spear, leveling it at her throat. "If you want someone to blame… then blame him."
Before Aozora could even question what that meant, the man thrust downward for the killing blow—
But a brilliant flash of blue light exploded between them, a shockwave blasting the Fallen Angel backward. He crashed into the gym wall with a grunt, wings scattering feathers across the room.
Aozora shielded her eyes weakly, her chest screaming in pain. When the light dimmed, something hovered in front of her.
It wasn't a person, but a small, dragon-shaped device—its body azure, with a powerful, menacing face.

The Fallen's eyes widened in shock, his arm still shielding his face.
"Shit…! Could that be—her Sacred Gear…?"
Aozora, half-dazed, blinked in confusion as the strange floating device stared her down.
"You, girl. Do you want to live?"
Her eyes widened, darting around. Time itself had frozen—the feathers from before hung unmoving in the air, her blood frozen mid-drip from her chin. Only she and the dragon device seemed unaffected.
"W-who said that?!" Aozora stammered, her voice cracking.
"Look in front of you!"
The device suddenly smacked into her nose with a bonk.
"OW! What the hell was that for?!" she snapped through the pain, clutching her face.
"Tch! Listen up, descendant of Kenji Narukami! You're in grave danger right now. I've stopped time for a few seconds, but that's all I can do."
Her eyes widened again, despite the pain fogging her mind.
"H-how do you… know my grandfather's name…?"
"Because I am GekiRyuKen—the key that awakens your power. There isn't time for questions. If you want to survive, if you want to protect your life—then wield me! Transform into Ryukendo and defeat that Fallen Angel!"
Aozora's chest throbbed, her vision darkening at the edges. She clenched her fists tight, teeth gritting through the pain.
Her trembling hand reached toward the device.
"…Tch… damn it… I-I'm not dying here…"
Aozora's bloodstained hand trembled as it reached out—fingers brushing against the floating device. The moment she touched it, the dragon-shaped relic pulsed with a violent surge of energy.
A brilliant blue light erupted, engulfing the Kendo room. The air crackled with raw power as the relic elongated and shifted, mechanical clicks and roars echoing through the frozen world.
When the light dimmed, Aozora now clutched a massive weapon in her hand—
A straight-bladed sword, gleaming silver and radiant with energy. Its handle was adorned with intricate armored plating, every detail etched with dragon scales. A golden dragon's head jutted proudly from the crossguard, red eyes glowing fiercely. Blue and gold wings stretched outward from the hilt.
The sheer weight of its presence made Aozora stagger, but her grip tightened around it instinctively.
"Wh… what… is this…?"
"This is my sword form—GekiRyuKen, the Dragon Sword."