The Staff
(Four Times Belial Did His Job and the One Time He Didn't)
Rated T for Shiro's foul mouth.
A very gracious thank you to SuperiorDimwit who was kind enough to let me take the wheel for this character. This takes place (unofficially) in her The End of the Beginning-verse.
Blue Exorcist belong to Kazue Kato and Viz Media. TEofB-verse belongs to SuperiorDimwit. I own neither but enjoy playing with both.
(Chapter takes place after chapter 15 in the Terra arc, after Shiro is attacked by the tengu in the woods.)
Chapter One: His Highness Collects a Stray
Belial knows everything that occurs within the Faust Mansion.
He knows where Ukobach hides his extensive stash of bourbon (under the stairs leading down into the lower pantry). He knows the scullery maids often join him—after His Highness has retired to His office for the night—for a session of careful, quiet grumbling and a few rounds of shots (but never to excess; it wouldn't do for His Highness to show up unannounced (as He does) to find His staff sprawled across the servant's table sloshed out of their senses).
He knows that the Housekeeper (Erynes, a lovely woman) spends the evening in her room with a tub of ice cream and a bottle of rum (and mixes them together into a gallon-sized, delightfully tasty slurry) to catch up on her American soap operas (All My Children).
Nothing occurs within the walls that Belial does not find out about. And so, when His Highness appears in the main parlor holding (supporting, rather) a half-conscious and bloodied teenager (Belial notes that His Highness is careful to keep that blood away from His own clothing; fastidiousness being one of His Highness's traits that Belial is extremely grateful for, as blood is so difficult to scrub out) Belial is on scene almost immediately.
The teenager—a lanky, scrawny thing with bleach-blond hair—sways against His Highness's shoulder. As Belial draws near, he squints and says, "Oi, who's the stiff?"
Belial ignores him in favor of His Highness.
"Send someone to fetch Mayu-chan," His Highness says. He glances to the teenager (or more precisely, to the blood seeping through his shirt) and wrinkles His nose.
"Shall I take him to one of the guest rooms?" Belial says.
His Highness considers this a moment. And then grins (it's the kind that makes Belial's guts squirm a little and he's glad it's not directed at him).
"No. Set him up in my quarters after he's stopped leaking. And do something with that." His Highness gestures to the teenager's outfit, torn and shredded and filthy. "Use one of the summer robes, the pink one, I think."
The boy is young and thin, not His Highness's usual type. But Belial has been in service to His Highness for a long time, even by demon standards, and so he takes it all in stride.
"Of course," he says.
His Highness lets go of the teenager—who squawks out an aborted, "The shit?"
But Belial catches him (still mindful not to dirty his own clothing; His Highness has standards for His Staff, after all).
The boy still squints up at Belial. He says, "The fuck are you?"
He's surprisingly weighty, and Belial wonders if perhaps his first impression was wrong. But His Highness whirls around and says, "I'll return later~."
And disappears.
"Where's this?" the boy says. He tries to straighten, fails, and knocks back into Belial. "Ugh, shit, can't even see straight."
Pain wafts from him like heat waves over sun-baked asphalt. Up close, it smells to Belial dark and sweet (much the way like His Highness takes His tea) and it's tempting to try just a sip. But the boy is obviously His Highness's plaything (in whatever form that may be; Belial doesn't know, yet). And so Belial does as His Highness bids.
"The hell kinda place is this?" the boy says.
His Highness's quarters, thankfully, remain close by (when His Highness gets bored (as he does with alarming regularity) he tends to rearrange the layout of the mansion). The boy gasps when Belial sets him on a chair next to His Highness's bed; he tucks his left arm close to his side. Through his torn clothing, Belial glimpses shredded, seeping meat.
One of the footmen steps into the room. Belial reaches into his pocket to fish out the set of keys His Highness entrusts to him.
"Go to the supply shop and awaken Moriyama-san," Belial says. "Tell her we'll need medical dressing, a disinfectant, and," he pauses, takes in the boy's tight, rapid breathing and graying skin, "something for pain. Hurry."
The footman bows and, in the same movement, turns and leaves.
The boy keeps looking around. Behind his glasses, his pupils are blown wide. "Where is this? Where'd the clown go?"
Belial suspects he knows what the boy means by "clown" but doesn't acknowledge it. Instead, he says, "I'll need to remove your clothing, sir."
The boy stares at him for a moment. Then his eyebrows come together. "Whoa, what now? Listen, I don't—"
Young but feisty. Perhaps he is His Highness's type?
But Belial is His Highness's highest-ranking servant, and when His Highness tells Belial to take care of the boy's clothing, he's going to do exactly that. It only takes a moment for him to study the boy (summoning energy to put up a fight). Belial doesn't let it get that far.
A straight shot to the shoulder. It's a short jab, nothing too hard, and Belial makes sure to land the hit just beneath the boy's wound (no sense in making the injury worse).
"Fuh!" the boy says. And then his eyes roll back and Belial catches him before he can swoon (and mess up the chair's upholstery).
"Kimris," Belial says and one of the chamber maids steps forward. "Go to the closet and fetch me His Highness's pink yukata."
Kimris has been with the Staff long enough to know better than to question this. She bows and does as Belial asks.
Belial, in the meantime, begins to peel the t-shirt off.
The wound has been cleaned (crudely). It's seeping again. Something large has taken a bite into the boy. Belial bends down to sniff the gashes (they smell of salt and copper and that heady scent of pain) and detects no trace of rot.
The boy is a scrawny thing, all bone and lank. But he's got the promise to grow into a wider frame.
Belial strips the rest of his clothes off and Kimris lays the yukata on the bedding beside him. She takes the boy's clothes without Belial needing to tell her (he makes a mental note of this; loyalty and intelligence are hard to find) and leaves the room.
And then they wait (Belial holds the boy up so that he bleeds only on himself).
The bedroom door opens up and the scent of cool and damp and night air wafts in. Moriyama-san carries the scent of flowers with her. She always has, it doesn't matter which season it is. She spots Belial and his charge immediately.
"Oh!" she says. "What's this? Sayuri!"
Moriyama-san's daughter bustles in after her (the footman trailing after her to close the door behind them), arms full of bandages and two, small covered pots.
"He's been wounded," Belial says.
"Well, I can see that," Moriyama-san says. Coming from anyone else, it may have been disrespectful. But Belial has known Moriyama-san her whole life and there's not a shred of rudeness in her tiny frame.
Belial holds the boy up so she can inspect the wounds.
"Did he say what happened?" she says.
"No."
She purses her lips and prods delicately at the torn edges of the boy's shoulder. "Well, it's deep, but it shouldn't do any permanent damage. Do you know if it's poisoned?"
"It is not."
Moriyama-san sighs and says, "I'll just have to clean it and stitch it up. When did he pass out?"
"A few moments ago. I believe the pain may have gotten to him."
Moriyama-san arches an eyebrow at him. But she all she says is, "Sweetie, bring those over here."
And she gets to work.
It's fascinating to watch humans tend to themselves this way. When a demon (even a lowly creature such as he) is injured, its spirit mends itself back together almost instantly. But humans, with such weak spirits, are much slower. They must literally sew their flesh back together. It's a messy process. Moriyama-san's daughter sits close by, a rag in one hand, to mop the leaking wound.
When it's done—and the boy's shoulder is a line of pink, inflamed flesh dotted with ugly, black threading—Moriyama-san dabs a strongly-scented ointment (Belial has to produce a handkerchief from his front pocket to keep his nose from running) over the jagged lines. She gently wraps it in clean bandages and tapes the end down.
"That should do it," she says. "We'll have to find out more when he wakes up, make sure I don't have to whip up an anti-toxin. Did Sir Pheles—"
(It's remarkable when humans manage a semblance of decorum.)
"—leave further instructions?"
"The boy is to recuperate here," Belial says.
This time, both eyebrows arch up. Moriyama-san says, "Ah. Well, that's all I can manage for tonight. If you don't mind, we'll stay here until he's feeling better, make sure he doesn't need anything else. Where would—"
She gestures to the blood-soaked rags and the sewing needle. Belial nods before she can finish and one of the laundry maids steps through the door.
"Oh, thank you," Moriyama-san says as the maid gathers the materials. She eyes the folded yukata on the bed. A smile tugs at her lips. "I see Sir Pheles still has a sense of humor."
Belial glances to the yukata. He blinks. Moriyama-san catches the expression and waves her hand.
"Oh, never mind," she says. "Here, I'll help you change him."
It's quick work with the two of them. The younger Moriyama-san stands to the side and is careful not to look in their direction. Until she thinks they aren't looking at her, when she then sneaks a peak (the young ones are especially fascinating; faint traces of a hormone cocktail (she's curious, at the very least) drift over to Belial).
Then they boy is wrapped up and tucked beneath His Highness's duvet (Belial feels a twinge at this, but His Highness did order it). Moriyama-san then plucks up a small, black case and cracks it open to pull out a silver syringe.
"A little morphine," she says. And glances at him in a significant way. "For the pain."
"Of course," Belial says.
The boy's breathing shifts deeper. He's out. Another of the maids takes the used needle away and Moriyama-san gathers up the rest of her things.
"Shall I show you to a guest room?" Belial says.
"Is there one nearby?" Moriyama-san says. "I want to be near in case he wakes."
Belial is no doctor, but even he can tell that with the amount of morphine she gave the boy, that's unlikely. He steps out of His Highness's room and is completely unsurprised to see a door has appeared across the hall.
"There is," he says.
Moriyama-san smiles again and inclines her head. "I would love to. Thank you. And thank Sir Pheles for me, if you run into him first?"
"Of course," Belial says.
The two women retire into their rooms for the night. Belial snags one of the chamber maids to tell Ukobach to be on call should they require anything. Then he turns to survey the boy. So thin, so pale against the dark purple of His Highness's bedding.
Whatever it is His Highness is planning for the boy, Belial is a simple butler, and it's none of his concern.
He closes the door.
AN: I'll try to have this updated on Saturdays.