PART ONE
He strains his ears for any tell-tale creaks of floorboards, and when he's sure that the guys have finally left or shut themselves in their rooms, Shiki rolls out of bed. His eyes are bloodshot, no doubt; it's been impossible to get more than two hours of sleep these days.
It's not like he cares, though. Lately it's been difficult to care about anything.
Shiki closes the door behind him and makes his way down the spiral staircase, towards the front door. He stuffs his feet into his beat up sneakers without wasting time to put on socks. It's all unnecessary.
He walks the entire way to the beach, hands in the pockets of his sweats. He had walked this route with her what feels to be eons ago now. She'd been so confused, not knowing where they were going, but trusted in him and obediently went along with it.
He can still remember her awed expression when she had realized where they were, and later, when the first rays of the sun peeked over the horizon...
Shiki's hands tighten into shaking fists, and he hastens his pace. In what feels like no time at all he's at the beach, shucking off his sneakers and letting the coarse sand run through the cleavage of his toes. He sits.
The sun's still out, but just barely. It's on its last legs, nearly swallowed whole by the horizon. The sky is full of colour, unlike the bright morning he'd glimpsed through the sheer fabric of the curtains hanging over his bedroom window.
The sky is full of blues and pinks and indigos, as if the colours are all mourning the descent of the sun. Darkness takes hold soon after. The colours lose the battle against the inky blackness, fading into it. Just like that, all colour is lost, never to appear again. Not since the sun has gone.
Shiki notices with a start that his glasses have fogged up, only to come to the slow realization that it's just his eyes misting over, making it impossible to see a thing. It doesn't matter. It's not like there's anything to see. The sun has left, leaving only the blackness behind.
He sits there anyway, well until it's time for the sun to rise. That's when he gets up, not even taking the time to brush the sand off his clothes, and goes on his way.
He's not in the mood to see the sunrise. Not alone.
.
A knock on the door tears through the dead silence that Shiki has been long accustomed to. He tears his gaze away from the figurines lining the ground, turning towards the door. He had made sure to lock it.
The doorknob rattles. A voice comes from the other side, muffled by the door, "S-Shiki, I... I brought you food..."
It's Meguru. Of course. He has been constantly trying to bring him food, in the hopes of getting him to eat something. Shiki never bothers to reply to him, though, and eventually he gives up.
He turns back towards the figurines, staring at them from his prone state on the bed. Even things he enjoyed doing, like playing with them, hold no value to him anymore. Shiki's come to terms with that.
"You should really eat something..." Meguru continues, tone soft and hesitant. "Not eating for this long isn't healthy."
The plea receives no response, silence descending upon them. He's sure that Meguru has given up, only for the younger to suddenly speak up.
"S-She wouldn't want this for you." Shiki's breath catches. "She'd want you to eat properly... and sleep properly... she'd want you to be happy —"
Gaze blurry with both fatigue and anger, he throws an action figure at the door. It hits its intended target before bouncing harmlessly on the floor. It works; Meguru stops spouting lines Shiki doesn't want to hear. Especially not from someone who hadn't helped her, who hadn't even tried.
"I'm leaving the food outside," Meguru says, after a beat. "Please, Shiki. Have some." There's a clatter, the tray touching the floor, and a whisper of fabric. He's gone.
Shiki doesn't make a move towards the door. Just stares at the action figure lying on the ground.
The tray remains untouched on the other side of the door.
.
The first time he sees another demon since what happened, it's some days after Meguru's peace offering. He had left the house to see the sunset, which is becoming somewhat of a habit. The bespectacled demon had thought the coast is clear, and it is, until he comes face-to-face with the demon prince.
Kakeru stands in the center of the garden, clearly waiting for him. He looks unimpressed. "Did you really think you could sneak past me?"
Shiki doesn't reply, only moves to go around him. He has nothing to say to another person who let her down. He gets far, when Kakeru calls out to him.
"My father isn't happy with you." This surprises him. Shiki turns. The prince's hands rest coolly in his pockets. Shiki itches to punch the holier-than-thou expression (ironic, seeing as they're both demons) off his face. "You know that, don't you? First you fall in love with a human, now you're barely doing any of the jobs given to you. You're treading on thin ice."
He doesn't deign to offer a response. Thinks about walking away again.
Kakeru's composed features crumple. His lips press into a frown. "Look, I left you alone because of what happened. You needed time to recover. But I can't look past it anymore. After all the trouble you've gotten yourself into, can't you at least try to make sure you don't get into another mess?"
He glances away. Fingers pick at a stray thread poking out of the hem of his shirt.
Kakeru sighs heavily. "You're going about this the wrong way," he says, each word slow and punctuated. "Eventually she's going to be born again." Shiki's attention is caught by that. The prince grins, more tired than smug, "I'm sorry we couldn't do anything to help, but her soul still exists."
That's... right. He can't believe it slipped his mind. She may be toast now, but she will be reincarnated. Her soul will walk the earth again. Maybe not right this second, or tomorrow, but one day. Eventually.
The knowledge is not enough for the ache in his chest to dissipate, but for the first time in a long while, he has hope.
"A human's life is horrible, messy, and short," Kakeru says, "but not everything ends. Soquit your moping around and get to working. You're worrying the other guys, especially Meguru." His eyes grow soft, if only marginally. "You're worrying me, idiot."
If he hadn't been so caught up about the information presented to him, Shiki would have been taken aback by that admission. Instead he nods, the movement sluggish. "Okay." His voice is gruff from disuse.
The demon prince smiles. It's less haggard this time. "II'll give you your next assignment tomorrow. Rest up." With that, he walks into the house, hand raised over his shoulder in farewell.
The bespectacled man continues to stand there. He stares up at the sky, his emotions a ball in his throat. He doesn't step towards the house, though he knows he'll have to leave early the next day.
It's dark out. The sun dipped out of the sky during their mostly one-sided conversation. There's no reason to walk to the beach.
Shiki feels as if he's betrayed her by missing the sunset. Like he's failed on another chance to keep her alive. But she'll be reborn, he thinks. It won't be her, not exactly, but she'll be alive again...
This time, he'll save her. He'll do whatever he can to make sure her life is wonderful, and long, and satisfying. That she sees everything the world has to offer and lives a fulfilled life.
This is his promise to her, and he intends to follow through.
With this newfound resolve thrumming through him, he turns towards the house and makes his way inside.
Sleep doesn't come easier that night, but there are no nightmares.
.
There isn't much to know about the toastee. He's a businessman, working for a large corporation but not influential or rich. Shiki goes to his workplace and watches as the man busily writes up a report, brow furrowed in concentration.
His desk isn't littered with pictures of family, which most humans have a penchant to do; no proud parents, no pretty wife, no smiling children. Co-workers bid him goodbye, but he only gives them a vague smile and a halfhearted wave.
Sometime later his cellphone rings. The toastee answers it. "Yes, honey, I'm going to be working late again. Don't wait up. Leave the food in the fridge and I'll heat it up when I get home. Alright. Bye."
No I'm sorry, no I miss you, no I love you. The businessman merely closes his phone and goes back to typing, as if he had never gotten the call.
Shiki has dealt with many toastees like this man. Too caught up in themselves to notice anything else. Always planning ahead for a future they won't have. His family rarely see him as it is, and soon, they won't see him ever again.
Normally he wouldn't care. He wouldn't bat an eyelash and do his job. But right now he's struck with the urge to grab the man by the lapels of his expensive suit and shake some sense into him. It's stupid, and irrational, but the thought rattles around in his head all the same.
He wants to do it. That doesn't mean he will.
Shiki shakes the urge free from his mind, pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, and gets to work.
There's a heavy feeling in his chest when he wipes the businessman's memory of the incident afterwards. The man blinks, disoriented, before going back to working. His phone does not ring again. Shiki stays in the room, watching, for a few minutes longer, before he leaves.
.
The park bench beneath him is hard, the metal unforgiving and digging into his spine. The chirping of crickets is background noise; the demon is used to it by now. His hands are folded over his chest, reminiscent of the corpses humans tuck away into coffins. A mere shell of the person they had been.
He had not gone to her funeral. He is ashamed he didn't, but he doesn't regret it. He hadn't wanted to see her slack limbs, her serene features. He didn't want to see her crying family as the coffin lowered into the ground.
His eyes close. As always, she appears in his mind's eye. Images of her, frozen moments in time he's locked away inside himself. Smiling, frowning, laughing, crying. Living.
It's strange. Shiki never felt lonely when he was away on the job.
He feels lonely now, heart heavy and throat tight. Telling himself she will be reborn does nothing to lift the loneliness, and neither does the symphony of crickets that lulls him to sleep.
.
"Well, well, well," says Haruhito, amused, "you're asking me for a favour? That's a first."
His lips thin, brows raising from behind the thick frames of his glasses. "Will you do it?"
The angel-turned-demon leans back in his seat, head canted. "That depends. What would be in it for me if I did?"
Shiki frowns, quickly losing his patience. This is too reminiscent of the life he left behind; tit for tat, scratch my back and I'll scratch yours. Everything artificial. "What do you want?"
The other demon shrugs his shoulders, "I don't know. There isn't anything I want. You know, apart from becoming an angel again. Which isn't something you can help me with, anyway."
It feels as if all they have done so far is talk in circles. The request had been a stupid idea anyway. Why had he thought to ask someone for a favour, even a bleeding heart like Haruhito? It would be best to hack the database periodically, as annoying as it could be, to get the information himself.
"Nevermind," he says, rising from the couch and beginning to make his way to his room.
"Wait, wait," laughs Haruhito. "Don't be so serious. I was kidding. Sit down, Shiki." The bespectacled demon does, after some hesitation. "Alright, what's the favour?"
A beat, before he voices his request, voice brusque and void of emotion. "I want to know when she will be back. I figured, since you were once an angel..."
Haruhito's eyes soften with pity. Shiki looks away from them, opting to stare at the wall. "You want me to pull some strings for you so you can find out when... she's reborn?"
"Yes."
"It suppose it won't be too hard," the blonde admits with a thoughtful frown. "I can ask Rein to keep an ear out for when her soul is recycled."
He bristles. "Rein? He would actually help, after what he did?"
The former angel smiles, a touch sad. "He was doing his job, that's all. It's not like he had a vendetta against you. I'm sure he won't mind helping us out." (Us, as if they're in it together. What a Haruhito thing to say.)
"And if I don't want him to help?"
"There's no one else I trust to do this. The Demon King won't be happy if word came from the angels that you're trying to find her again." Here the blonde demon's voice grows soft. "It might even take her longer to be reborn."
Shiki pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling heavily. He's right. This is clearly the better option, no matter how angry he is at Rein for having a hand in killing the woman he loved.
"Okay," he says, "just... ask him. Please."
The other nods. "Of course." Conversation over, Shiki gets up from the couch in order to go back to his room. "Hey, Kurobane?" He halts, looks over his shoulder with a brow held aloft. "We're behind you, alright? I… I know I couldn't help save her, but this is something I can do."
The bespectacled demon blinks. Haruhito was a bleeding heart behind his laid back demeanor, but this was a bit much, even for him. He has no idea what to say in response.
"Okay," he settles on. The former angel smiles, nods his head. Shiki shuffles off, mind stuck on us and we and, as always, her.
A/N:
crossposted from both ao3 and tumblr this time. at the moment i've only posted this first part on tumblr, but i'll post the second part and more voltage stories there first, so feel free to follow me if you have a tumblr! i'm acehibari. :)
if i got anything wrong, be it story details or the guys, it's because i haven't played all their routes! title is taken from a poem shiki mentions in his main route.
