It was the night after their return when the Prince stole Mammon from everyone, refusing to take no for an answer as he lifted her now adult-sized body with ease and carried her on his shoulders. Strangely, she never resisted… never uttered a word… and simply… allowed him to take her away.

There wasn't much to miss. Just another celebratory dinner. The world was still recovering from the war and there was much to do, but even assassins took the time to appreciate good fortune when it finally dawned on them. The seven most powerful people were reborn, their greatest threat now neutralized, and the families that struggled to hold their own? They survived.

All that was left was to rebuild and hope for a brighter future. Surely, a greater threat than Byakuran wouldn't come so soon. And if it eventually did, they will be ready. Ready to fight back again, ready to protect, ready to survive again. But for now, everyone only wished to enjoy a few days and nights of peace.

Everyone except Belphegor.

The car soon came to a full stop, observed the blindfolded Mammon. She was dragged outside by the Prince, unable to tell where in the world they may be. The trip wasn't too long so it must have been somewhere near.

Minutes of being dragged ended with a quick release of her restraints, eyes finally free to see. Her first order of business? Ask.

"What do you hope to achieve from this, Prince?" Mammon asks bluntly as she blinks and adjusts her vision. It was dark and somewhat blurry, but she knew quite well where this was. Just outside Varia territory, in a hidden shack in the woods, was a hideout. Some of Verde's experiments were here, most of which she had helped developed. But that wasn't what made this place special—some time ago, during the years where the war was quickly taking a turn against them. Their numbers soon changed from thousands, to hundreds and soon, to tenths. Their troops were being wiped right in front of them and even the supposed superior arcobalenos failed to make a difference.

In this shack in the woods, away from the fight that transpired, was where Mammon chose to end her life.

"You died." Belphegor cleared one of the tables that was full of blueprints and pens. With one sweep of an arm, everything was sent to the floor. "Right here. Right in this spot. You bled to death but no one found a wound. There was no knife that pierced through you, no gun that shot you in the guts—you just bled to death, Mammon. And you did it to yourself."

The way he spoke was as if he was just saying facts. He kept his back turned, eyes on the now empty steel table. Mammon on the other hand loomed beside him, fingers soon creeping towards his. His palm was rested near the center of the table, to a spot Mammon guessed was where her body was found. She placed her much smaller hand on top of his, a softer utter of Belphegor's name shushed him completely as he opened his mouth in protest.

"You found me, didn't you?" It was more of a statement than a question. The way he flinched at her words said more than enough.

She can only imagine the shock of finding her there. But what about him? Did he know about what she went through?

When Colonello sacrificed himself for her survival, she knew she was already done for. What reason was there to hide away for another day? They will find her, for sure. They will take her away, ridicule her like how they do before killing. Her weaknesses exposed… her entire being made completely useless when faced with them…

There was no chance in hell she'd let her life be taken by people who weren't strong to begin with. If she wasn't held back… if her powers were there…

"I would have died in their hands, Bel. My death was inevitable. No one could have stopped that, not even Varia. Or y-"

"I could have!" Belphegor broke free of her gentle touch, swinging his arm as he backed away. "I'm not a boy, Mammon. I could have hid you and stopped you from dying!"

"Where were you then when Colonello gave his life for me? They had us cornered. You know that. I refuse to have my life taken by…" What were they exactly? Mammon, in all her pent up rage and bitterness from being on the weak end of the stick in that forsaken war, couldn't find a word to describe Byakuran and his men.

"Peasants." Said Belphegor plainly. He was looking at her now, observing her as he waited. Even in her adult body, she was still as plain as can be. Not one for much action or words, Mammon has been as stiff as a post, her only surprising act was when she touched his hand. "You're just as selfish as before, aren't you Mammon?"

There was a deep sigh from the Prince and a long silence that followed. He kept his eyes locked on hers and she did nothing but to allow him to. When he finally collected himself, Mammon was already prepared for his outburst—something she's been expecting the moment he appeared before her bedroom doors looking like a lost child before eventually kidnapping her.

"…I tried to find him, you know? That person that killed you. I kept looking and looking… but there was no one to find. You went out and got yourself killed on your own." He started laughing, as manic as ever, his tone rich in dark humor as he slams a fist on the table. "I could have done that for you! How easy is it to waltz into the hide out and say 'I feel like dying today, Bel. Stab me in the guts, would you?' It would have been less trouble like that, you selfish, selfish baby! Do you know how long it took to find you here? To find you already dead? Dead, Mammon. You were fucking dead."

"I—"

"I'm not done yet."

And that was enough for Mammon to restrain herself from once again defending herself. She didn't die because she wanted to end her life—she wanted to protect the only thing she had left: her pride.

"I thought it was a fake. A plan to send the enemies off your back. But your body decomposed. It reeked like all dead bodies would. You never came back." He stopped for a moment, fist still balled tightly. "I mourned for you. I, the Prince, mourned for your death. I don't do that, Mammon. I kill without reason. I kill for a living. I kill even in my sleep. I killed my entire family. I don't dread over dead bodies!"

Mammon could hear every breath he took, his heavy breathing all too clear. The Belphegor she knew was as heartless as any assassin could be—quick to kill even without reason. But here he was, pouring whatever his rotten heart had for… her? For a moment, Mammon even thought he was going to cry. Belphegor. Cry.

It was an impossible thought.

Instead, he laughed. Laughed that laugh of his that sent shivers down every one of his targets' spine. He was maniacal to the core, as crazy as crazy can get.

And yet he mourned for the loss of her presence in this world.

Mammon couldn't help but linger on that thought, Belphegor's laughter now falling on deaf ears.

"So. In light of our happy reunion, I will make one thing very clear—" His laugh continued as he turned to face her, that signature Cheshire grin of his making its appearance as his manic laughter ended, his face inching closer to the much smaller Mammon. "—you are not allowed to die without my consent. My eyes will never leave you. I, the Prince, promise that whoever dares to touch you will suffer immensely. And if you ever choose to end your own life again, I will personally arrange your death. It won't be quick and painless, I assure you. Do you understand?"

Mammon didn't flinch at his possessive words but instead looked up at him with little intention to resist. "Do I have a say in this?"

Belphegor grinned widely, his head shaking as he says "No."

Pulling him down by the shoulders, Mammon whispered something in his ears before returning a smirk as a reply to his more sadistic grin and quickly turns away, already retracing the steps they took as she was led there. She found her way outside and patiently waited in the car where a servant was chained to his seat, looking as nervous and scared like a cat stuck outside in a storm. And surely enough, Belphegor was a storm no one should be messing with.

"W-where to, Prince Belphegor?" Asked the driver as Belphegor entered the car, his mood much perkier than before. He was grinning ear to ear, something that either meant he was happy or angry. The pitiable driver could only hope it was the former.

"Take us back. There's a celebration, is there not?" He then turned towards his charge, their role seemingly reversed. There was no lies in his words earlier. It took a miracle to have something mean to Belphegor and as he realizes it, there's only one reasonable way to deal with it—protect it and never let it be taken. The arcobaleno Mammon, in all her ridiculous difficulty, was his. His to mess with. His to annoy. His to drag around. Simply, his. Death would have to go through him before taking her away again.

He sinks back in his seat, arms flung behind him, the terrible weight on his shoulders finally lifted off. He was beyond thrilled when he saw the arcobalenos back again—the familiar baby emerging back to life, still with the same look on her face as if nothing had happened. When the shock and relief was washed away, everything that he went through on the discovery that she died came rushing back. He was angry. He was bitter. He was—confused. But now? Ha!

He turns to the other end of the car where Mammon looked outside the window, her gaze distant, thoughts most likely elsewhere. He might have said all that he could, but her? Barely anything. Something to be expected from someone as selfish as the mist arcobaleno. But even so, Belphegor was at peace for now. Nothing could ever take back what had happened during the war, but as everyone, including him, started picking up what was left and making the most out of it, all he has to remember is Mammon's words:

I never imagined I had a life worth protecting. I might have been wrong to have done what I did, but I don't cry over spilled milk, Bel. And neither should you.

I won't stop you from doing what you wish to do. In all the years I've taken care of you, when have I ever stopped you? This I promise you; my life is mine to protect, but should I fail, I know now where to turn to.

It wasn't a solid promise that a similar instance will never happen, but really, how can he ever be sure when it came to Mammon? All Belphegor could do was stick by his plan and hold her life in his hand—this time for sure, it won't be some other person risking their life to make sure she stays, and he won't be a fool to sacrifice his own either. This time… this time for sure.

Mammon turns away from the window momentarily to catch Belphegor looking at her. She scoffs. "Keep staring like that and I might have to ask for a fee, Prince. It won't be cheap."

Belphegor replies by throwing something from his pocket at her, a bulky wallet full of cards now resting on the illusionist's lap. She picks it up and opens it—surely enough all his credit cards were there and even a few bills.

"I assume this means you'll continue staring like a complete buffoon?" She rolls her eyes, keeping the wallet in her hands.

The Prince lets out his signature manic laugh before replying in the simplest way possible.

"Yes."

Word Count: 2,075

Notes: HAPPY (BELATED) BIRTHDAY to you dearest Hesper! You've always been such a darling to talk to and your reviews mean the world to me! I refuse to let an update for WIMY be the gift i've been meaning to give, so I made this little one shot up and I do hope you like it!

It ended so... lamely, but I can't let it go on without letting it proceed to another chapter...and another... and aaaah. I'll leave it at that happy note. To be clear, this can be both platonic and romantic, really. No mushy gooey lovey dovey stuff, sorry for those expecting that ~

WIMY will be updating very soon if you happen to read that BelMam story of mine :)

Thanks for reading! Do share your thoughts?