This is not a rewrite of the Jack of Hearts. This is an AU to the AU.

Written for TheLastKenpachi at his request.

As always, I do not own Highschool DxD.

When Issei had first had that young woman named Yuuma introduce herself to him, barely able to stutter that she wanted to go out with him, he hadn't hesitated to agree.

Being the enormous pervert that he was, Issei Hyoudou wasn't well-liked by the girls in the school, and his two friends just enabled him. Despite that, he did genuinely want a girlfriend, and Yuuma's request had been a dream come true; he'd have been perfectly fine giving up all his perverseness just to make her happy.

In hindsight, that should have been a red flag the size of a skyscraper, and in a further twist of the knife, Yuuma let the entire date pass by before she made her move.

They had gone to the movies, gotten lunch, then sat and chatted in the park for more than an hour, watching the sun slip down the horizon. The area was a secluded one, with a fountain in the center of the paved path; no one else was around to share the moment.

When the sun had slipped down to the point of twilight, Yuuma stood from the bench and waved him over.

"Could you do something for me, Issei?"

Here it comes! Issei thought excitedly. The kiss to cap off the day!

"Yes?" Issei said, trying to sound innocent.

"Would you die for me?"

Issei blinked, the words bouncing around his mind like a tin can bounced off a brick wall.

"…what?"

"Oh?" Yuuma asked innocently. "I said: "Would you die for me?""

Issei's jaw dropped open when a pair of honest-to-God wings tore themselves free from her back, and she rocketed into the air. For a fraction of a moment, she hung there, her black, feathered wings shadows against the dying light.

Ever so slowly, her hand raised, fingers opened wide, until it was almost parallel with the ground. Once she had, a glow reached Issei's eyes from between them. Before his eyes, it twisted, reformed -

Only as it left her hand did Issei realize that it was a spear.

It was far too late to run or evade, and the brunette could only stand there as the spear formed from light rammed through his chest.

The pain took several seconds to kick in, but when it did, it was... indescribable. Horrific was a term that did not belong on the same planet as the agony that flooded the brunette.

He hadn't even realized he'd fallen over until Yuuma had casually walked up and knelt down next to him.

"Oh, does it hurt? You were a threat, so you had to be gotten rid of. That's all. Nothing personal." For a fraction of a moment, the mortally wounded young man got a glimpse of the girl's face. Twisted into a cruel sneer, it couldn't have been more obvious that she was taking sadistic glee in watching him die. "Good-bye, Issei Hyoudou."

Then, she was gone.

Issei had never been religious. Every time his childhood friend had asked him to go to church, he'd refused her. He'd never cared a whit for the beliefs professed by the myriad of faiths that existed in the world.

Yet, even as he lay dying, he found himself belting out a prayer regardless. Perhaps it had been his attempt to make peace with the world, or perhaps it was fear. He never had an answer for the question.

If anyone's there... I'm sorry for my life... I was a lech, always wanted what I didn't have... stupid, stupid... never gave thanks for my family, my home, or my friends... if you gave me a second chance... I'd take it, but... I... I don't ask for one...

He didn't remember the words even as they left his brain. Issei's mind wasn't working right, even as he thought through the prayer and sent it up. The blood loss was destroying his mental faculties. He couldn't think, couldn't process anything. His vision was hazing over.

He'd already lost consciousness when the cross of light formed a few feet away.

It was a few moments before the figure stepped forwards, his lengthy blonde hair rustling in the faint breeze. When the same breeze hit his nostrils, Raphael could smell the reek of blood.

The Seraph's heart sank as he saw the condition the prayer was in. When he had heard the sound, he had assumed that it was simply a young soul, dying before his time from some malady or another, or from a tragic event that no one could have prevented.

The enormous hole in the boy's chest spoke otherwise. The poor child had clearly been attacked with a large weapon of some kind; a long-range critical examination suggested a spear. The Seraph who was patron of doctors felt no sickness or queasiness at the sight of the eviscerated youth. He felt only sadness.

It was true that Rapahel was a very, very old being. He had seen more patient's lives end than he cared to count. That never made the process any more pleasant. The doctor among the Angels had long since grown used to the feeling out of necessity, but the same sadness he always felt wormed its way through his brain regardless.

"Why?" the Seraph murmured under his breath as he walked over to the boy. Kneeling down, the thought continued to replay in his head over and over again. What had provoked this violence? Why had this boy been made to suffer so horrifically in this way?

A child should never have to endure such pain...

Raphael wanted so very much to help. He wanted, more than anything, to unleash his healing water, seal the boy's wounds and help him walk away. His instincts as a doctor demanded it.

The words of Michael, his own brother, denied those instincts a right to be expressed. Raphael understood the reasoning behind his brother's words. He understood the need for consistency in answering prayers. He did not resent it any less for this.

As the Seraph stood, he gave one last regretful look at the boy's body. He had blessed the boy, of course, hoping to at least increase the boy's chances of entrance into Heaven, but that was Remiel's job, not his.

Rapahel was just considering asking Remiel for a favor when the voice crossed his ears.

"Well, well, well. Of all the people who might answer, it's you."

Raphael blinked as he remembered just where he had heard that voice before.

"I take it you amplified his prayers, Ddraig?"

"Am I that easy to read?"

"Indeed. I take it you were hoping that someone, anyone might come?"

"Yes, Raphael, I was. We have no time for idle chit-chat. You are Heaven's chief medical officer, yes?"

"Indeed I am," Raphael said.

"I want you to employ those legendary skills of yours and save my host. Do whatever you must do. He does not deserve to die here. If you don't-"

"I don't need to be threatened, Ddraig. I already know where you're going with this, and I'd rather he not die as well."

Raphael's eyes scanned the wounds and analyzed the amount of blood that the boy had lost. A numb feeling began to pull at his gut as he came to a painful realization.

It's already much too late to use the water...

Even if the Seraph employed all of his magic in a singular burst, the boy had already suffered too much trauma and blood loss for it to make a difference. That left only one option. Raphael hated to put the weight on the child's shoulders, but he had no other alternatives.

Without further hesitation, Raphael reached into his robes and extracted a box. Flipping through it, he drew out a card that he felt was fitting. It was the highest card he had left besides a Joker that he'd never bothered to get approved.

The card was absorbed into the boy's flesh without frill or ceremony. Soon enough, the blood had begun to pull back, the flesh sewing itself back up without the slightest hint of scarring.

Within a minute after placing the card, the boy appeared as though he had never been injured at all.

When Raphael appeared in Fifth Heaven's medical facilities, every Angel's attention was drawn to the young man in his arms. He waved them off, filling out the boy's room paperwork personally before depositing him there. Raphael had faith in the system's effects, but he saw no reason to take the chance.

After scribbling out a set of instructions for the young man in the local tongue he knew the brunette to use, he proceeded to inform the Clubs in First Heaven.

"So you're saying that this new Saint was never a believer and you only resurrected him because of the Red Dragon Emperor?"

"That's indeed what I'm saying, Elizabeth."

Raphael stood in the gathering hall of his Saint's home, addressing the half-dozen people gathered at the long table where meals might be shared. Differing expressions were playing across their faces. His Ace and Queen each appeared contemplative. His Ten took the news stoically, revealing nothing. The Nine was as starry-eyed as could be expected, while the Eight had open skepticism on his face.

It was the last who was the first to speak.

"Raphael, I don't mean to give you orders, but that doesn't seem particularly wise. Why waste a card on a person with no combat experience who didn't believe in our faith? Wouldn't the water have worked just as well?"

"I would have employed my healing magics if I had thought they had any chance of success," the Seraph replied. "I would not have used one of my Brave Saint cards otherwise."

"Would I be correct in assuming you wish for us to train him?" the Queen asked, running a hand through her mahogany hair.

"Indeed," the King said. "I hate to pass the job onto all of you, but I simply lack the spare time to do it myself. I don't possess Uriel's incredibly flexible schedule, after all, and you all are Heaven's substitutes and troubleshooters."

Heads nodded all about the room.

"How would you like us to train him, then?" the Ace asked.

Raphael nodded at the black-haired man. "I think that if the job of training this young man falls to all of you collectively, then it's only fair that you have some say what he's instructed in. Obviously, we need to instruct him in Christianity, Heaven's functions and how the Three Factions operate. That's critical information and not up for discussion. I would advise that you assume he knows absolutely nothing about any of those topics, because he likely doesn't."

Another collective nod.

"As for combat? I have some ideas of how I would go about it, but I would like to hear what you all come up with. Discuss it among yourselves and come to some disagreement. You have eight hours."

"We'll have an answer for you, Raphael!" the Nine chirped.

The Seraph smiled at the young woman. "Good to hear, Abigail."

Raphael vanished into a cross.

The Saints immediately began to get into a deep discussion, one which stretched long into the night.

Convincing his Saints that he'd done more or less right had been the easy part, of course. They were more likely to see the smaller picture.

It was Raphael's brothers that were the tricky part.

He stood before the two of them in Zebel, his sister Gabriel standing off to one side with her arms folded beneath her bosom.

"So you took this boy as a Saint despite his lack of faith or combat experience?" Uriel asked. His brother's tone wasn't angry, but it couldn't have been more obvious that he disagreed with Raphael's assessment.

"Indeed I did."

Gabriel smiled at this, something neither Uriel nor Michael took notice of.

"Why did you feel it was necessary to do that instead of employing your famously powerful healing magic?" Michael asked. "I understand not wanting to make the Red Dragon Emperor our enemy, but was making him a Brave Saint necessary?"

"That was my first thought, but I concluded that he simply would not live long enough for my water to fix his injuries. He had perhaps another forty-five seconds before he slipped away."

"Can you be sure of that?" Uriel asked.

Raphael's eyes narrowed as he looked his brother down. "You have trusted my medical judgments for thousands of years without question. Yet now you doubt them?"

"You two," Gabriel said, shaking her head. "With this arrangement, both the boy and Heaven benefit."

"How so?" Uriel demanded.

"He lives, obviously, and Heaven has a potential powerhouse added to its ranks, among other things." She shook her head, smiling wryly. "The one night I'm not the one listening to prayers... I'd have done the same thing in Raphael's situation."

"You approve of his actions, then?" Michael asked.

"Of course," Gabriel replied casually. "You know that both Raphael and I didn't like the Brave Saint system's standards."

"We still don't," Raphael added.

"That does not give you the right to defy the standards at a whim," Michael said. There was an uncharacteristic touch of iron in his voice. "Don't make a habit of this, Raphael."

"When did I ever hint that I intended to?" the King of Clubs said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do in Fifth Heaven."

Without waiting to be dismissed, Raphael vanished into a cross, with Gabriel following a moment later. Off to the Garden of Eden or her forge in Fifth Heaven, no doubt.

Uriel looked at his brother, eyebrow raised. "Well then, it seems we have been told. I wouldn't put it past Raphael, though..."

"Put what past him?" Michael asked.

"I wouldn't be surprised if this young man turns out to be his own pet project to disprove the Brave Saint system's restrictions as much as anything else. He certainly has an excellent deck to do it with. Three Sacred Gear users, several extremely studious people and powerful exorcists working together to reshape this young man?"

Michael nodded, turning this over in his mind as Uriel walked away.

Issei hadn't been expecting to awaken at all after he'd lost consciousness. He hadn't believed in a Heaven or an afterlife. He'd thought that once he died, that would be it. There would not be a continuation of consciousness, just an eternal unknowing nothing.

He certainly hadn't expected to awaken to the smell of cleaning chemicals and a bright overhead light.

For a moment after his eyes opened, he couldn't remember why this should all seem so odd to him. When the thought came back to him, however, he bolted upright, his heart pounding as he pawed at his chest.

He began blinking when he realized the hole that had been there was gone. His chest was completely undamaged and free of any scarring. For a moment he thought it must have been a dream, before deciding that it couldn't be a coincidence that he was in what was very clearly a hospital directly afterwards.

He shook his head for several seconds, trying to clear his thoughts and calm down, before looking around.

He seemed to be in a normal, clean hospital room – one that seemed to be run by a church, given the crosses hanging on the walls. Yet there was nothing plugged into him, nothing to indicate that he was at all ill or injured.

The heck?

Issei, as previously noted, was not religious to any degree, and he certainly didn't follow any brand of Christianity. The closest he'd ever come to that had been a few brushes with the faith when he was a child, courtesy of that girl named Irina.

He shook his head again, and when he looked up again, he noticed something else.

That the room had a door wasn't something he was at all surprised by. His surprise came from the note that was pasted on the door.

Well, guess I'm still in my own country, at least...

Experimentally, Issei swung his legs over the side of the bed and gently laid his weight on them. They held, and Issei slowly stood up.

After straightening the sheets as a matter of courtesy, Issei paced over to door, each step uncertain. Once he'd reached it, he gingerly plucked the piece of paper off the wood and held it up for closer examination.

When you awaken, young man, exit this room, take a left and walk to the end of the hallway. Then, take another left, go to the reception desk directly ahead of you. Hand them this note and follow their instructions.

Raphael

Issei's eyebrow raised as he turned the handle and opened the door. While the name didn't sound entirely unfamiliar, he certainly didn't know anyone called "Raphael".

The door opened into a clean, well-lit hallway lined with doors, each direction splitting off towards an identical endpoint on either side. The walls were constructed of white stone, while the floors were a polished ivory tile that Issei could have eaten off of.

Issei swallowed, renewed nervousness pacing through his brain at this unfamiliar environment. Unsure of what else to do, however, he began walking, following the note's instructions.

The hallway wasn't particularly long, but it was seemingly devoid of any life. He didn't run into any orderlies, other patients or visitors at all, nor could he hear any sounds that would indicate that they were there. The silence was unnerving, and Issei couldn't shake the feeling someone was watching him.

Taking the demanded left at the corner, Issei's vision was filled by what was obviously an entrance area. Two or three people milled about within, none paying him any mind as he entered.

Nervously, he walked up to the reception desk.

"Good morning," the young lady behind the desk said, her tone reasonably friendly. "Can I help you?"

"I, uh..." Issei said, stammering as he tried to steady himself. "I... woke up in one of the rooms and this note told me to come here..." He handed the scrap of paper over to her.

The receptionist didn't bother reading it before she smiled once more. "Ah! Okay. Follow me, please." She stood from her desk and began walking down another one of the hallways leading off of the reception area, Issei falling into step behind her.

They walked down three hallways, taking a right, left and then another right, before they stood before a large pair of oak double doors. The young woman knocked once on the door before stepping back.

After a moment, a loud buzz echoed through the hall, and she stepped forwards and pulled one of the doors open. Once she had, she waved him in.

Behind the door, Issei was confronted by a large desk organized neater than even his own mother's, at which sat a young-looking man. He was blonde, with a lengthy but well-groomed mop of hair on his head layered several times onto itself. The man was rather handsome.

Only then did it strike Issei that he should have felt much more than nervousness as a result of looking at the receptionist, who was fairly well-built up front, her robes doing little to hide her features. Yet his reaction was instead the more natural of what might be expected, something Issei couldn't begin to understand.

After scribbling something on a piece of paper, the man behind the desk looked up.

"Raphael?" the receptionist asked. "The young man you wanted delivered to you? Your new Saint?"

"Ah, yes," the man said, smiling. "Thank you, Alicia."

"Do you require anything else, sir?" Alicia asked.

"No, that will be all. Thank you again. I wish to speak to him alone, if you don't mind?"

"Of course," the receptionist said, turning and departing the room without any further ado and closing the door behind her.

So it was that Issei was left in an unfamiliar office with a person he didn't know after a night he'd rather have not remembered.

The man at the desk gestured to a chair seated across the desk. "Take a seat, I insist."

Issei obeyed, trying to hide his growing anxiety over this whole situation.

"Err..." Issei said, not entirely sure if he should start the conversation. "...where am I? And who are you?"

The man smiled. "You're in Heaven, young man."

Issei took a moment to process those words. When he had, his eyes flicked downwards to the floor. "So... this is what death is like? More... mundane than I expected..."

The man gave a hearty chuckle. "Wrong floor for that, child. This is Fifth Heaven. The souls of the dead reside in the Third Heaven. That's the one you're thinking of."

"So I'm not actually dead?" Issei asked, his mind tying itself in knots as he processed all of this.

"No, you're not, thankfully. The system has done its work. Don't ask. That will all be explained to you later."

"...who are you, exactly?" the brunette asked. "If this is Heaven, and I'm not with the souls of the dead..."

"Well, I suppose I shan't waste more time," the man said, standing from his desk and taking a step or two backwards.

A moment later, he made Issei's eyes snap as wide as they could possibly go when twelve enormous white wings erupted from his back. Meanwhile, above his head, a single halo of golden light hung in the air, casting its radiance across the room.

"I am Raphael, one of the Four Great Seraphim of Heaven."

For a few seconds, Issei could only stare, jaw agape, sending a grin back onto Raphael's face.

"...should I bow?" Issei finally asked.

"No. I prefer a casual demeanor from my subordinates and my Saints. What I would like is for you to give me your name."

"Issei Hyoudou." the brunette said, his tone having becoming incredibly stiff.

"Well then, Issei, relax. I don't take offense to understandable shock. On that note..." Raphael snapped his fingers.

Issei let out a yelp of pain as a sharp sting passed through his back and he felt something expel itself from his skin. The pain ended as suddenly as it began, but the sensation of something protruding from his back did not vanish alongside it. Issei's head turned to look at what was causing it, and his jaw dropped open once more when he caught sight of what it was.

Two white wings, just like the ones Raphael had, extended from behind his shoulder blades, each lined with perfectly groomed, pure-white feathers.

Issei found himself rubbing his eyes and pinching at himself, too stunned to speak. It wasn't until nearly a minute later that he found his words again.

"I'm... I'm an Angel...?"

In response, Raphael opened a drawer on his desk, withdrew a large, rectangular object and handed it over to Issei. After a moment, Issei realized it was a mirror.

Looking into it, he took in the sight of his own countenance. In the air above his head, a wide halo of light hung, casting his entire face in a bright glow.

"...whoa..."

Raphael chuckled.

For several minutes longer, Issei was left engaged in an intimate study of self. He stared his own reflection in the mirror, taking in every detail. One of his hands, meanwhile, developed a mind of its own and began fingering absentmindedly at the soft feathers of his white wings.

Issei was barely aware of handing the mirror back to the Seraph across the desk.

"Are you convinced now?" Raphael asked, his tone amused.

Issei swallowed. "So... so I'm an Angel. Okay..." As he spoke, his face began to turn downwards – only to catch sight of one final oddity.

The back of his right hand was glowing red.

Drawing his hand up to his face, Issei realized the glow was in the shape of a J.

"What's this about...?"

"That letter," Raphael replied, "is a marker of your rank among my Brave Saints. You are my Jack." He folded his hands behind his head.

"Welcome to Heaven, Issei Hyoudou."

And cut.

I'm writing this for you, Kenpachi. I better see a review from you! (He said, implying anything plot-important has happened yet.) Don't worry, Issei will meet the rest of the deck in the next chapter and we'll learn what they've come up with then.