Date a Bride (Date A Live Fanfiction)

The first thing she noticed as she gradually regained consciousness was the soft echo of water dripping in the stillness of the cave.

"Mm~"

Her body felt stiff, muscles aching as she shifted slightly. Yet, the familiar support of the damp stone wall she had leaned against the night before was gone.

"Huh?"

She opened her eyes, blinking against the dim light filtering through the narrow cave entrance. Looking around, she realized she was lying down, not propped up as she had been before.

It took a moment for the memories of where she was to return. As they did, she reached for her head, wincing at a lingering ache before letting out a sigh.

Then she noticed something strange.

"What in the..."

Slowly, she unfolded her legs and sat up, confusion settling in as she scanned her surroundings.

The cave had been dark the previous day, but she could still recall its basic appearance—rocky, barren, with only a few damp patches of moss clinging to the stone walls. But now...

The once-barren cave was now alive with color and vitality. Green vines climbed the walls, interwoven with bright flowers of various hues. Small plants had sprouted from the cracks in the stone, their leaves glistening with dew.

Even around her, a bed of flowers had formed, creating a soft cushion beneath her. The blossoms were arranged in a way that felt almost deliberate, as if nature itself had cradled her while she slept.

"This wasn't here before."

She slowly rose to her feet, her hand brushing against the soft petals of a nearby flower. Cautiously, she moved toward the cave entrance.

"!"

The sudden burst of light momentarily blinded her as she stepped outside, the sounds of the world rushing in to greet her. The rustling of leaves in the wind and the distant calls of birds filled her senses. If she listened closely, she could even hear the faint sound of waves lapping against the sandy beach she had walked along the day before.

Looking up at the sky, she noticed it wasn't completely clear yet. The sunlight was still struggling to break through the lingering clouds, casting a soft, diffused glow over the landscape. The remnants of the storm hung in the air, with patches of gray still clinging to the horizon.

"So..."

She sighed, her gaze shifting down to her unfamiliar form, taking in the body she now inhabited.

"How should I deal with this body..."

Now that her surroundings were fully illuminated, she took a moment to assess her new reality.

The first thing she focused on was the unfamiliar clothing she wore.

"A wedding dress?"

Indeed, it was a completely white gown, the kind a bride might wear on her most important day.

She let her gaze drift down the dress. It was pristine, hugging her waist before cascading into a long, full skirt that brushed the ground. The fabric was smooth and soft, adorned with delicate lace at the bodice and sleeves. As she moved, the dress swished gently around her, its hem embroidered with tiny flowers. She lifted the skirt slightly, feeling the weight of the fabric—its elegance standing in stark contrast to the rugged, untamed landscape.

"Hmm?"

She noticed something resting on her head. Reaching up, she found a simple headband made of colorful flowers.

She let her hand rest on the headband for a moment, fingers brushing against the petals. "These feel real..." she muttered, the soft texture of the flowers confirming her suspicion. Gently placing the headband back on her head, she continued her self-examination.

"Let's see..."

Her eyes scanned the area until they fell upon a small pond nearby. Moving toward it, the dress swished softly with each step. She knelt beside the water, peering into the still surface to get a clearer view of her reflection.

The water was calm, reflecting a face she didn't recognize. Dark brown hair cascaded to her mid-back, and her eyes were a slightly lighter shade of brown. The delicate flowers of the headband framed her face, only adding to the sense of unfamiliarity.

She reached out and touched the water with her fingers. Ripples distorted her reflection, but she caught a glimpse of something familiar.

"It's there... the mole under my left eye, just like in my original body... and even the color of my hair and eyes is the same as it was in my youth..."

She struggled to piece everything together, bewildered by her situation. The only explanation that came to mind was that she had died and somehow ended up in hell, but...

As she stood, brushing the dampness from her fingers, she glanced around again.

"This place is much nicer than the hell I imagined..."

Lush green plants and towering trees surrounded her, their leaves rustling gently in the breeze. Exotic flowers bloomed in vibrant colors, and a clear stream meandered nearby, its banks lined with smooth stones and wild plants.

"A jungle island, huh... an abandoned jungle island in the middle of nowhere..."

A small grin tugged at her lips—the first smile to grace her face in this unfamiliar body.

"Probably no other human on this island except me..."

She quickly reached down to her wedding dress, gathering the flowing skirt in her hands and folding it up to her waist, revealing her legs, now covered only by long, white patterned socks that clung to her skin.

Slipping off her high heels, she removed her socks one by one, placing them carefully inside the cave.

"I'll make up for my past mistakes—that's what my mother taught me. If there's one thing I'm good at, it's smiling in the face of trouble."

She said this proudly, her chest puffed out, a wide smile spreading across her face as she placed her hands on her hips.

"Time to get to work, big boy."

She held the proud pose for a moment, but then her vision blurred. Reaching up, she wiped her eyes, trying to steady herself.

"Men don't cry..."

Part 2:

"Kata-kata." The small sound came from the chattering of his teeth. A middle-aged man, with the upper part of his hair having long abandoned him, stood there looking every bit the businessman in his simple uniform.

"...Uhm."

The atmosphere in the office was far from cold. Outside, the December chill wrapped the world in icy stillness, but inside, the temperature was comfortably warm, thanks to thick glass windows and an efficient air conditioner. It should have been a comfortable environment for anyone.

Yet, the poor man couldn't stop his body from trembling.

"Oh~ I see..."

"Y-YES!"

Across from him sat a man, casually leaning back in his chair, eyes focused on the document in his hands.

"...!"

With just that small movement, sweat began to pour down the trembling man's forehead.

Beside the seated man was a strikingly beautiful woman with ash-blonde hair, her mere presence enough to turn heads. Her expression was sharp, like a sword ready to strike, and it forced the man into a tense silence, his face growing even paler.

The younger man, though likely in his mid-thirties, carried an aura far beyond his years. He didn't look like a typical middle-aged man at all.

In fact, the trembling man, nearly forty-eight years old and technically past middle age, felt ancient in comparison to the younger man's commanding presence.

Of course, it was only natural. The man sitting across from him wasn't just any ordinary person.

He's a man whose name is famous in the world as a world genius financial monster from the DEM Industry, its first generation founder: Isaac Ray Pelham Westcott.

In normal circumstances, it would have been impossible for someone like him, a mere worker, to meet Isaac Westcott in person. For him to be here now, there had to be a significant reason.

The man had stumbled upon something—something that Isaac Westcott would be keen to know. It was the very thing Westcott had built his empire around.

"A potential Spirit in the middle of nowhere, huh..."

"Y-Yes, sir!"

Just days ago, he had been overseeing DEM's flagship during a routine survey near the East China Sea, south of Japan Bay.

Aside from the sudden storm that had appeared out of nowhere, everything had gone as expected. But then, something happened...

"Our equipment detected a sudden spike in Reiryoku around the area," the man said, his voice trembling. "At first, we assumed it was a glitch caused by the storm, since there were no signs of spacequakes... But the readings were consistent... and off the charts. The only explanation we could think of was... it might be a Spirit."

Westcott's expression remained unreadable as the man nervously explained the situation. He continued reading the document in his hands, making the man feel as though his words were unnecessary. The tension was suffocating. He just hoped he wouldn't be punished for speaking out of turn, but his anxiety was gnawing at him.

If the information he provided turned out to be false and no Spirit existed, he could lose his head. Yet, if he had withheld the information and it was later discovered, the consequences would have been equally grim.

He risked a silent glance to Westcott's side.

Standing behind Westcott was a young, blonde woman. He took note of her immediately.

Even at a glance, it was clear she was no ordinary secretary. That woman was Ellen Mira Mathers, the supervisor of DEM wizards. She wielded power on par with, or perhaps even greater than, the Spirits themselves. She was the strongest human alive. If she had been with Westcott from the start, it meant she was the one who would sever his head if he made any mistake.

Tick-tick—the sound of the clock on the wall reverberated through the office. The silence was so heavy he could even hear footsteps from the floor above.

"...I see."

Westcott finally spoke as he glanced over the report, his dark eyes settling on the trembling man.

"...U-Ukh."

The man's breath hitched as Westcott's gaze bore into him, an unsettling feeling creeping over him, making him frown despite his best efforts to stay composed.

But Westcott either didn't notice or simply didn't care. He casually tossed the report onto the desk, folding his hands together as he leaned forward slightly, his dark eyes locked onto the man.

Westcott's lips moved, and he spoke in a calm, measured tone.

The man braced himself—this was the moment. He expected Westcott to announce his punishment, dismissal, or worse. If deemed no longer useful, Ellen would handle the matter swiftly, as she had done before.

"Thank you for your trouble. You can return to your duties now."

His entire body shivered at Westcott's words. For a moment, he thought he had misheard.

"...What?"

"I said, you can leave now. Thank you for your hard work."

He stood there, frozen in disbelief. The document he had submitted didn't contain anything concrete—no irrefutable proof of a Spirit in the East China Sea. He had expected a reprimand or worse for bringing such inconclusive information to a man like Westcott.

But instead, Westcott had accepted the report without question, without punishment. The stories of Westcott's ruthless handling of anything related to Spirits had haunted him, but now, standing here unharmed, he wondered—were those just rumors after all?

After a moment of awkward silence, Westcott nodded as though something had just clicked for him.

"Aah, so that was the issue? Of course, there will be a reward for you and your crew for this notable achievement. You can rest—"

"No, that's not what I meant...!"

The man suddenly bowed at a perfect 90-degree angle.

"I wouldn't dare wait for a reward. It's my duty, sir."

"...Yeah..."

"Then, excuse me, sir!"

Westcott watched as the man quickly straightened up and hurriedly made his way out of the room, nearly stumbling over his own feet in his haste. The door closed with a soft click, leaving Westcott and Ellen alone in the dimly lit office.

His smile lingered as he leaned back in his chair, the shadows accentuating the sharp lines of his face.

"So, she's started moving again, huh... It was about time."

"Sir..."

"Mm?"

He looked up, his attention drawn to the figure who had silently stepped forward—Ellen.

"Do you trust what that low-level worker said about the existence of this mysterious Spirit?" she asked, her voice steady but tinged with skepticism.

Westcott's gaze remained fixed on her, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then he gave a slight, almost dismissive shrug.

"Trust? It's not about trust, Ellen. It's about potential," he replied calmly. "Even the most insignificant pieces can shift the balance if used correctly."

Ellen's eyes narrowed slightly as she considered his words, but she didn't press further. She knew better than to question Westcott's instincts—he had a knack for seeing the bigger picture that others often missed.

"And if it turns out to be nothing more than a rumor?"

"Then we lose nothing," Westcott said with a faint smile. "But if it's true... well, we'll be prepared."

Ellen nodded, understanding the unspoken command. She would keep a close watch on the situation, as always.

"But I doubt it's an empty preparation."

"Hm?" Ellen's curiosity was piqued as she watched him reach once again for the document he had earlier dismissed.

"Tell me, Ellen," Westcott began, his fingers lightly brushing over the paper, "how many years has it been since we started those routine surveys? And just how large is the area they cover?"

Ellen hesitated for only a moment before replying, "It's been 25 years since we initiated the surveys, following the first appearance of the initial Spirit, sir. The area covered is extensive—a circle with a diameter of 10,000 kilometers, including the region where the Spirit first appeared, stretching all the way to Japan. These are the places where we've noticed significant Reiryoku activities, the areas where a Spirit is most likely to manifest."

"Twenty-five years... and in all that time, we've been watching, waiting. We've mapped out every disturbance, every corner, every detail within this area. Now, tell me, Ellen, what are the chances we might have missed an island in this zone?"

Ellen furrowed her brow, considering the question carefully. "The chances are slim—if I didn't dare say impossible, sir. Our technology is advanced, and the surveys have been thorough. We've utilized satellite imagery, sonar, and ground teams. An island, especially one with significant Reiryoku activity, should be impossible to overlook."

Westcott's gaze sharpened as he leaned forward, angling the document so Ellen could see it.

"But the report says otherwise..."

Ellen quickly scanned the contents of the document, her eyes moving rapidly over the lines of text. Her eyes widened in shock.

"An entire landmass suddenly appeared out of nowhere... An island we somehow missed, even though it was right in the path of several flagship routine surveys..."

Westcott suddenly stood up, and Ellen's gaze snapped to him.

"Is this the work of a Spirit?"

"We'll find out soon enough..." Westcott replied, his lifeless gaze meeting hers. "We'll send Artemisia Bell Ashcroft for this mission."

As he uttered the name, Ellen's brow furrowed in anger, her emotions betraying her usual composure. Without thinking, she spoke up.

"Artemisia...? With all due respect, sir, why can't I take on this mission? Do you not trust me to handle it?"

Westcott's expression remained unchanged, but if one looked closely, a subtle, almost imperceptible grin tugged at the corners of his lips, as if her anger amused him.

He let the silence stretch for a moment before finally responding, his voice cold and measured.

"My dear Ellen, your abilities are not in question. After all, you're the one who captured , the only Spirit that DEM has ever managed to contain."

"Then why?"

Westcott raised a finger. "It's simply a test—specifically for Artemisia. We need to determine if the rumors about her being one of the top five Wizards in the entire world hold any truth."

Ellen's fists clenched at her sides. "So, this is about her proving herself..."

"Bingo." Westcott smiled, though it felt out of place with his lifeless eyes. "You got it right, Ellen."

Ellen took a deep breath, forcing herself to relax, though the tension in her body remained. "And if she fails? What then?"

"Then we step in. But until that happens, she must prove whether she's worthy of her reputation."

Ellen looked down at the document, processing Westcott's words. She nodded, though the fire in her eyes hadn't dimmed. "Understood, sir."

"Prepare the necessary arrangements, Artemisia will be briefed immediately."

Ellen turned to leave, her mind still grappling with the decision. As she reached the door, she paused and glanced back at Westcott. "I'll be watching closely, sir. If anything goes wrong..."

"You'll be ready, I expect nothing less from you."

Ellen nodded before taking her leave.