For Bondmaiden bc of her glorious bday.

This is meant to be an episodic fic. Next chapters might or might not ever come, but that's ok bc each chapter is complete in itself.

Warnings: everyone wears horns and cool yukata. The abyss is a great place to chill until you live in it for centuries then it's just boring.

I usually like to explain things in the fics itself but for the sake of my sanity, I'll just put it here as a general important plot concept:
Bargaining spells: you call up a demon making yourself obliged to pay them something for the service they'll give you. If you don't accept, the demon disappears, and that's it. It's a pretty safe thing, sort of.
Summoning spells: you call up a demon to serve you with no mandatory payment needed, as long as you do have the power to keep him under your control. If your power is too weak, the demon might break the bindings and kill you (if they feel like it). Which is why demon summoners want to be good at summoning spells far more than at bargaining ones. No one wants to pay a price. Free is better.

More things about demons will come up in later chapters.


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For all the bad reputation the Abyss had collected below and above the Earth in millennia of existing, it wasn't such a loathsome place to live in—provided that a demon held sufficient power, of course. A basic rule that didn't change between reality planes: power remained a vital requirement for survival, and the only mean that could turn the most wretched and unwelcoming place into an acceptable residence.

As a matter of fact, Akashi had always enjoyed an innate abundance of power. Becoming the Demon King had ultimately filled all the lacks he might have suffered from in earlier stages, but even long before that, survival and control had come naturally to him. Many demons spent centuries of their lives feeling lost and threatened in the dangerous, multifaceted obscurity of the Abyss. Those were emotions Akashi had rarely experienced.

Well, there might have been a time in which he had—an itch in his hardened heart reminded him of that, whenever he stared for too long at the lower levels of the underworld where all demons crawled out of, akin to the dull throbbing of an old broken bone still aching when strained—but demons were all well acquainted with that one memory nagging in the back of their skulls, for some paler than for others; it was hardly a parameter to judge a demon's worth. On the contrary, that memory was what prompted demons to pursue more power. Some managed, and became worthy of respect, and others didn't. Akashi had done an excellent job, of course, and now he stood at a place where never ending up at those levels was an absolute guarantee.

He deserved at least as much, considering what it had taken to gain said power and the role of the Demon King: the time, the acuity, the outstanding resources, and most of all the unpleasant social groups he had to affiliate with to create a sturdy safety net of alliances and supporters.

To be completely honest, though, being the Demon King hadn't always been in Akashi's plans. He was fond of being listened to, and in the Abyss that meant being strong enough to convince others to listen; but ruling wasn't a must, and as long as no relevant conflict of interest between the ruler and Akashi existed, Akashi would have gladly continued on his way. He had been fairly sure he could have defeated the Demon King, anyway.

But for many demons who were past the constant fear of not surviving to see the next day, one of the biggest curses of the Abyss was boredom. The Abyss, being the kind of world it was, bestowed upon this sentiment bleaker consequences than it had in the human world: boredom led to unwise choices or laxity, and both of those could easily result in suffering or death in the short run—but for some who could hardly conceive any chance of death by the hand of any low life demon, simply more boredom.

Akashi would know that.

Around the time he still hadn't decided on his glorious path, Akashi had had many people who had properly feared him already, but few who had stuck with him in his constant moving about. Of course, it had all been powerful demons, in one way or another, and they had offered some low quality company and relief from boredom. So when they had joined Akashi, he had let them follow him. Which is how Akashi found himself in the circumstances of contemplating the possibility of ruling.

"Ugh, let's do something. Kick some asses," Nebuya had said one day while inspecting the bulginess of his biceps. Nebuya was one of those individuals whose boredom, despite all the remarkable strength, would have long brought them to death, hadn't it been for Akashi. Too brash and short-sighted; but under Akashi's orders, he had proven himself undeniably useful, and Akashi never turned his back on useful pawns. But apparently for Nebuya, the clan of demons they had been feeding on that day had been one too easy to crush too many. "I've heard the Demon King is in a bad place right now."

"Are you crazy," Hayama, always the ferally louder one, had laughed out at the mere idea.

"That's a bit of a stretch maybe," Mibuchi, more controlled, had said with a disapproving sigh.

On his part, faithful to his apathy towards most things thrown at him, Mayuzumi had only given a pointedly dead look at Nebuya.

"That is an interesting proposal," Akashi had commented pensively, and in a matter of seconds he had carefully weighted the pros and cons, and had decided: it had been one clan of demons too easy to crush too many. He was going to become the Demon King. "We shall do that."

"Ah," Hayama and Mibuchi had voiced in unison.

Mayuzumi had only shifted his pointedly dead look on Akashi. That hadn't been enough to stray Akashi from his new objective. Not that Akashi could be utterly certain straying him from it had even been the purpose of Mayuzumi's unexpressive eyes. Not that if it had, it would have mattered.

So that had been it.

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Predictably, he had succeeded.

The Abyss, the horns of a Demon King and the right to rule had all been a pleasant conquest, but what Akashi had adamantly chased after was, as said, a different kind of privilege.

It was a common opinion that the amount of perks that the Demon King's position offered widely made up for the number of duties that accompanied the role. For Akashi, duties themselves fell under the category of perks. For these reasons, the prospect of subjecting an entire world of demonic warmongers had sounded appealing from the moment it was conceived. Entertainment was what he had been looking for, and so he had climbed to the top.

Now that he was a Demon King, Akashi could bitterly state that not even being the busiest, most requested demon of the Abyss fully freed him of the dullness and the repetitiveness. Killing, eating demons, preventing weak attempts at overthrowing his dictatorship could only tickle his attention so much.

"This is pathetic," Akashi had lamented at the third uncreative attempt at eliminating him, "How can they be so unorganized?"

"It's because you're too chill about this," Hayama had unhelpfully explained.

"Elaborate," Akashi had commanded.

Hayama had shrugged as he searched for words. "About being a demon. The thing is that you're pretty great as a ruler, so the majority of the clever ones know to leave you alone. Which means that the ones who actually bother attacking you do it pushed by lame reasons."

"And those reasons would be that I'm too 'chill'?" Killing somebody because they're 'too chill' sounded to him like a depreciable reason to attempt a coup. Maybe this was truly why most of them failed before even starting.

Hayama had then tried to encapsulate a broad, verbally inexplicable concept in some vague flailing of hands. Akashi had not been satisfied, and had made sure that his eyes conveyed that to Hayama. So Hayama had continued, "Yeah like. You go about everything like a cold statue. It irks them off and they just run at you stupidly. You don't act like the usual demons. You kinda act like you're superior to everyone."

"But I am superior," Akashi had logically stated.

"Gotta love Sei-chan," Mibuchi had interrupted with a sisterly smile. "Don't worry, Sei-chan, it's nothing of the sort. It's just that you're too cute. Envy is a terrible thing. You have no idea of all the trouble I went in simply for my face." He had paused. "Well, I also escaped a lot of trouble because of my face."

In search of truths, Akashi had stood up and walked back into the hall where Nebuya and Mayuzumi had been about to eliminate a handful of guilty demons.

"State the reasons of your insurrection," he had demanded.

"You're too chill," the rebels' boss had said, in a clear attempt to be defiant to the very end of his existence. "And too haughty. It's so annoying it makes me want to give you a lesson."

Behind him Mibuchi, who had followed to hear, had put a hand on his shoulder, eyebrows bent in a desolate curve. "Don't be sad, Sei-chan. There has to be someone very envious of your cuteness, out there."

The boss hadn't stopped, as his veins had grown thicker. "You act like some god descended here to bring order on filthy demons. But you're no god, Demon King. You crawled out of the same dirty hole we all come from, didn't you."

Akashi had killed him quickly to award him for the honesty. But still in a very painful way for the shallowness of his reasoning.

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So yes, really interesting things happened rarely, even at the top. Nonetheless, there were a few side perks that Akashi had taken into account even when entertainment had been his priority, that made life nicer than before.

The problem of the Abyss was that it was built as a prison, and like all prisons, was hard to escape. Aside from few exceptions, such as himself, demons couldn't get out of the Abyss on their will. It was a matter of balance between reality planes, good and evil, humans and demons, as well as the fact that the Abyss was born to be a place for punishment. There would be no point in letting the damned roam out freely in the light of the Earth, devouring innocent souls with no dam to limit the range of their mayhem. Only the most powerful demons could, with some effort, move between planes on their own volition; for the average ones, however, the only way out was through human summoning.

Mighty otherworldly demons having to rely upon creatures as weak as humans to get out of their prison and collect souls, power, or whatever it was they were after: Akashi had always detachedly appreciated the fine cruelty of such retaliation. The Abyss founded its bases on many of those, and Akashi was never below acknowledging a system well structured, even if that was the very same system holding him captive—then again, it helped the fact that Akashi never really saw himself as a captive, always managing to rise above his and everyone else's limits.

Nonetheless, there had been days, back when he was still climbing to power, when even he had to abide to the humiliation of serving humans. He had to answer generic bargaining spells' calls to put his hands on dark souls to eat. He had to go through sudden changes of scenery by a powerful summoning spell impossible to break and help humans achieve what they desired but gaining nothing in exchange.

Of course, bargaining spells usually offered empowering souls, and summoning spells were always a good exercise for demons to train their ability to break the chains of the magic—if humans wanted to pay nothing for a demon's services, they had to risk higher. But for Akashi it had always been the principle behind it all that irked him deeply. Humans trying to bend him to their greedy wills spoken as if they were invincible because of a mere spell: how unacceptable that was. So when it was barganing spells, collecting the humans' souls had always been the most satisfactory part—not because of the power that surged within him when he fed, but because it was only right that ultimately those creatures were punished for their arrogance. When it was summoning spells, on the other hand… well, Akashi had taken counter measures against that.

After forging a reputation to his name, humans had started summoning him specifically and Akashi had never fancied being interrupted in the middle of his activities only to be forced to meet with a haughty corrupted face spouting orders. Nor had he ever taken as much advantage of that as Hayama did whenever he intercepted a summoning spell calling him away when he wanted to escape his duties.

Once Akashi had become Demon King, he was faced with a decision to make: indulge the humans' calls in the hope of interesting times in their presence; or greatly weaken the frequency of summonings for the sake of absolute control.

Frankly, the decision hadn't been hard, and so, what had followed that had been an extensive research on the functioning of demons.

All demons were provided with a demonic core, within them. In the Abyss, the rules that governed it weren't written in books, but in the very blood of each demon, in their 'core', buried deep into the dark miasma that made demons the creatures they were. Being able to connect with that core—allegedly an impossible feat—would mean a chance to meddle around with the rules that bound a demon.

Confident in the new powers gained with his position, Akashi had given it a try. It had been time-consuming and fatiguing, but in the end Akashi had managed to twist some things around his fingers: he had found the source of his powers and rules to which they answered, and rewritten his own to new ones—within the limits that were conceded, of course. There were some things that not even Akashi the Demon King could manage, against the safety system of the Abyss.

"That was a very long nap," Mayuzumi had greeted him back when he had opened his eyes again. Mayuzumi was another of his subjects that was best left ignored most of the time. His set of valuable skills was the main reason he hadn't been killed by Akashi's own hands already.

"I wasn't 'napping'," Akashi had informed him against his own lack of hope towards Mayuzumi's case, for the sake of educating lesser demons of his incredible success. "I was connecting to the core of my demonic being. I made the impossible possible through the sheer power of my mind. I revolutionized the very essence of being a demon."

"Fascinating," Mayuzumi had shrugged. "You might have not noticed that somebody tried to kill you while you were napping."

As Akashi was still alive and could successfully perform his personal quest without being bothered, he surmised that his underlings had taken care of that very efficiently. Because of that, Akashi had overlooked Mayuzumi's insolence.

The rules residing within him now stated that to bind the current Demon King, the summoner had to possess the purest of souls. Of course, Akashi had spread no word about the new changes. To his delight, what had naturally spread among humans after that, were only the consequences of more and more summoners daring and dying at his hands: rumors of a current Demon King so strong that no bargaining spell could force him to Earth, no summoning spell could reign him in. It was a blessing but also the greatest danger for sorcerers if he ever decided to show up at the summoning call. If you call the Demon King, people all over said, make sure you have an interesting proposal for him.

Slowly, the calls had subdued. The entertainment lessened. But humans who kept trying in the hopes of proving themselves able to turn the tides and conquer the benevolence of the Demon King, offered enough recreational moments. With that, Akashi had been finally freed from the hassle that were humans.

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It was in the light of all this that, as he was cleaning his hands from the smears of the demonic miasma belonging to his last duty, Akashi understandably felt a mild sense of surprise he hadn't experienced in a very long time, when he perceived a rough pull to his core that he could not refuse.

Mayuzumi, scanning the list of obligations to attend, raised his head at the poised interjection that had escaped Akashi's lips and, despite the obvious irregularity of the situation, offered no more than a frown and a perplexed "My Lord," at the figure of his boss slowly fading into nothingness.

Akashi sighed, unable to prevent this interruption. He pulled down the sleeves of the haori over his forearms. "Wait for me here. I'll be done very shortly."

Exactly because these circumstances came mostly unexpected, they strongly suggested potential danger. Akashi considered for a short moment bringing Mayuzumi along, but then decided against it. He was the Demon King. He was confident that whatever was summoning him above that had somehow managed to work around the limitative rules, could be easily taken care of in the span of a few minutes, were that to be his wish.

All things considered, the distraction did come well-timed. He had been feeling quite bored with the last days' schedule.

"Let the next one enter," he ordered.

Mayuzumi nodded, checking something off his list; but just as Akashi was about to disappear completely, he caught Mayuzumi's hand surreptitiously slipping in the long sleeve of his black yukata, heavy with the weight of a book.

"Mayuzumi—" Akashi said warningly, but he never got to finish the sentence.

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The room he materialized in coincided with the very least probable of all the explanations that he had hypothesized on the threshold of his departure.

It was all incredibly different from the locations he was used to being summoned to. The change, however, despite having its anticlimactic flaws, was not overly unpleasant.

The air was filled only with the sinister hissing raising from the surface of water used for the summoning, and a muffled, indiscernible noise coming from behind a closed door—something already very different, as usually there was at least one person chanting boring litanies before he could appear completely.

It was a small bedroom, white and fresh like only places with a short history could be. Outside the window framed by blue lace curtains, the wide crowns of trees swayed in a warm sunlight that would have made Mibuchi ditch the summoner in favor of a light suntan, or even persuade them of the advantages of joining him. Nebuya, on the other hand, would have felt nauseous at the plethora of hideously cute stuffed toys sprinkling the blankets of the bed. A small desk was nestled in the corner, a crooked lamp and a set of pens and notebooks lying on it, neatly disposed, and Akashi was reminded of Mayuzumi's monthly complaints about the lack of paper and stationery in the Abyss—something to which for once, Akashi had to agree. He made a mental note about those before he finally looked down.

"A child," he commented.

"Good afternoon," the child greeted back politely, thus answering the first of Akashi's questions. The presence of a big open tome at the child's knees and the blatant absence of potential abductors answered the second.

The completion of the calling could safely be attributed to the child being nothing but a child. It was known that childhood was the stage of a human life when souls were most likely to retain the greatest levels of pureness, before inevitably falling victim to aging and rotting from vices and corruption. And while Akashi hadn't enough faith in all human children being pure enough to summon him, one look at his surroundings told him this one child lived a life where it could afford being so.

Akashi was relieved to ascertain that no one had found his secret out and started abducting children all over to bind him successfully. But on the other hand, it was ironic to think that if he hadn't changed the rules, the child's call would not have reached any demon's ears. Kids, after all, were naturally not well-versed in black magic. It was less ironic to imagine what his underlings would say about this if they learnt of it. Thankfully they would not, as Akashi had no intention to disclose any detail about this incident to a public larger than himself.

The situation was clear enough, but there were still some grey aspects to it that made Akashi curious.

The tiny creature, dressed in proper well-ironed clothes that clashed with the medical gauze covering its cheek, wasn't paying him attention anymore, concentrated on cautiously taping a colorful band-aid to its fingertip, cut to pay the price of blood required by the ritual.

So Akashi took his time to pull his feet out of the still fuming layer of water inside the bright pink bucket he had been summoned in. As he moved it out of the way with a foot, he noticed a thick series of flower stickers attached all under the rim.

When he looked down again, the child was staring at him discreetly, but its wide blue eyes kept flickering from his face to his horns with a spark of awe. For many demons, horns were a reason of pride; reverence at their majestic sight would be rewarded with lenience. But Akashi didn't praise any look that was not directed either up to his face or down to his feet.

"It is impolite to stare," he chided.

Obeying the implied order, the creature's stare dropped to Akashi's eyes. "I apologize."

"It is also unbecoming of a young sorcerer to summon demons using a bucket such as this one. I am not overly fond of the value of aesthetics, but most demons might have found this too discourteous for their tastes. A more sober bucket is highly suggested."

"I only had that one…" The child glanced dismally at its resources, then at Akashi again. "You don't look angry."

With an appraising nod, Akashi knelt down in front of the child, mirroring its composed stance. "I am not most demons."

He assessed the kid, raising his chin higher. The creature stayed silent, submitting with no qualms to his scrutiny. At this point, which was very early and symptom of incurable rudeness, human sorcerers would usually begin their long monologue on what they wanted from Akashi, along with the why's and the how's. Akashi was pleased to see that this human seemed polite. Maybe a bit too much, for it didn't speak up at all, not even when Akashi nodded it the permission.

This surely had to be its first summoning attempt, and it was graciously waiting for Akashi to inform it of how things worked. Well, this offered Akashi a good occasion to proceed with order.

"Your name," he demanded.

As expected, as if it had been waiting only for that, the kid replied diligently. "Kuroko Tetsuya."

"Age?"

"Six," Kuroko Tetsuya said. Akashi's gaze was attracted further down to puny fingers moving in a silent count. "And a quarter."

"I will assume you summoned me making use of the book at your feet," Akashi said. "Where did you get it?"

"My grandmother gave it to me. It belonged to her family."

"Is your grandmother a demon summoner? A witch? What is the name she's known by in her guild?"

"Kuroko Megumi." Kuroko's tone was pointlessly proud as it articulated the name, because Akashi had not heard of any notorious witch going by it. "She is a pensioner."

In the short silence that followed Akashi's attempt at placing the name somewhere, anywhere, as to explain why Kuroko Tetsuya had the resources and knowledge to summon him in the first place, Kuroko surprisingly leapt at the chance to speak first.

"Your horns—"

Akashi slanted it a heavy gaze. "Do they upset you?"

"No," Kuroko said evenly. "Are they real?"

"Obviously."

"Can I touch—"

"No," Akashi cut it off briskly. "Do you have any parents? What do they think of this book?"

The question seemed to be the right one to pose to fill in the last blanks, as Kuroko looked down, forgetting the topic of horns and trying to hide hints of guilt instead. "They didn't like some of the book's things. They said it was too gru… gruelo… gruso…"

"Gruesome," Akashi helped.

Kuroko nodded poignantly. "They said that if I want to play with magic, I should use other books. They reprimanded my grandmother because of me."

"It is comforting to learn that there is someone gifted with common sense within your family unit."

Swiftly, Kuroko got up and scampered to the tall desk, half-climbing on the chair to drag a small pile of slim but large books and carry them to Akashi's knees. The sight Akashi was served with made his speculations quite final.

"I tried these ones," Kuroko let Akashi know with a bland note of betrayal directed at the sparkling colorful books. "But nothing worked."

Akashi found himself deeply unsurprised. 'THE APPRENTICE'S MAGIC BOOK' and 'Bewitch Your Friends with CHARMS AND SPELLS' were not exactly renowned black magic books in the summoners' communities, nor were they in any list of common reads among actual witchcraft apprentices.

In conclusion, Akashi sighed, it was clear that it was all an ironic coincidence. This was how things probably went: a girl by a mysterious last name started following the booming trend of the summoners in Tokyo in the mid eighties of two centuries earlier, when every sorcerer was ready to sell their souls to have a demon bodyguard; was good enough to hold onto it and pass it down from generation to generation; until a lay, ignorant grandmother thought it a marvelous, completely safe idea to gift it to the grandchild for recreational purposes.

Akashi started wondering whether it should be this person which he should reproach instead of this child whose mind was clearly clouded by careless teachings.

Before he could inform a saddened Kuroko of the truth behind its ineffective magic books, a mewling noise came from the door. A big cat, with raven lucid fur and a crimson string around the neck slipped elegantly inside the room.

Akashi watched the cat calmly trot to Kuroko's leg and nuzzle it affectionately. Kuroko tried to scoop the cat up in its scrawny arms, but the cat was too big for it to do that properly, and ended up in an uncomfortable two legged position against Kuroko's chest.

"Her name is Mako," Kuroko supplied, gravely mistaking Akashi's dead silence for a spark of interest. With some wiggling, the cat managed to free herself from Kuroko's hold, and bearing no grudge she settled down beside it. Akashi was reassured to see Kuroko's patting skills were far more delicate than its lifting ones, and his instinctual urge to intervene and snatch the cat from graceless hands was quelled down in favor of another rightful reproach.

"You just summoned a demon under your roof without your parents' consent, and you didn't even lock the door to your room," Akashi said flatly.

Kuroko's petting hand halted mid-stroke.

"Oh," it mumbled. "Should have I done that?"

Akashi nodded. "It is common custom to perform demon summoning in an environment as private as possible." The muffled noises had grown stronger now that the door was ajar, and now Akashi distinguished an overlapping of chirpy human voices. "Who dwells in your living room?"

"My babysitter," Kuroko replied. "But she doesn't really pay attention to me. She watches TV a lot."

"Then let's get back to our business. Do I have to infer that your summoning was merely experimental?" Akashi contemplated the band-aid on Kuroko's finger and the complicated spell circling Akashi's position. "You appear to have invested a bit too much effort for this to be only a way to spend time."

"No," Kuroko said, with a determination that gained Akashi's full attention. "I meant to ask for a favor."

"The word favor does not exist in the language of demons," Akashi stated in a lapidary manner.

Kuroko looked at him with an uncertain tilt of its eyebrows, whose motive Akashi couldn't fathom until it said tentatively, "Favor means… that you…"

"I know what favor means," Akashi stressed.

"Mh." The kid didn't seem to understand the reason behind Akashi's interruption, but Akashi did not insist on resolving the abysmal ignorance of the tiny creature, his spirit void of any hope for success just as much as when he faced Mayuzumi.

The kid had caught the hints of exasperation in his voice though, because it didn't press the matter further nor proceeded with its request. A tense silence fell again and Akashi sighed deeply, conceding out of personal curiosity, "But what could your wish be, I wonder."

Kuroko fidgeted on its knees. "There are some bullies in my school."

Ah, Akashi thought as he eyed knowingly the white patch on Kuroko's cheek, so it was revenge. Such a common emotion in humans, even in the earliest stages of a life. One of the main reasons innocent souls fell soon into darkness, for revenge often felt righteous, fair. Due. Akashi personally thought it was, so he could not blame the child. But it was definitely merry news for Akashi, as the kid might very soon be unable to summon him ever again.

"So you want to make them pay what they deserve?" Akashi asked with a mocking glint in his mismatched eyes. "Make them unable to lay a hand on you ever again?"

His figure loomed over the child's one, that shrank in his bleak shadow. Akashi's eyes glowed golden. "Do you want me to make them disappear forever?" If Akashi helped the kid, it would take one single revenge ordered on the wave of boiling frustration, carried out too thoroughly by Akashi's powers, for satisfaction or profound guilt to do their part in sealing the creature away from Akashi, their paths separating forever on a doomed note.

However, contrary to Akashi's expectations, the child's answer was initially only a dubious, demure frown.

"Can't Goat-san just… shoo them away," it said, and there was an attempt at sounding chiding and reasonable on its part. "I don't really want anyone to get hurt… Papa says it is bad to hurt people."

Akashi stared off into the creature's sky blue eyes before finding focus again. He straightened up with a look of deep disappointment.

"Firstly, I am obviously not a goat. Nor these are the horns of a goat. They are the horns of a Demon King and I am Akashi Seijuurou. Address me properly."

"Akashi Seijuurou," Kuroko committed to memory in a feeble voice.

"Secondly. I can," Akashi said sternly, "But your request doesn't hold any value to me, since I gain nothing from it but a waste of my time. Ask your teachers for help. They will know what to do."

"But." Kuroko started. It didn't continue, and Akashi did not ask, because it was not his problem if this young creature didn't have enough strength to face its enemies. Another rule that did not change between reality planes: the fittest always won.

"I will take my leave now." Briskly he straightened up. Mayuzumi was probably slacking off already even if it was a busy day. This had been an interesting happening, but it was time to put an end to it.

As he flattened the creases of his yukata with the palm of his hands, he looked at Kuroko one last time. "I have to ask you not to summon me ever again."

His eyes darkened as he once again towered over Kuroko. The air rarefied, and the lights in the room dimmed grimly even though out of the now rattling windows the sun still shone brightly. "Or there will be dire consequences. It would be safer if you listen to my advice. Do you understand the implications of my words?" He murmured in a low hissing voice.

The kid looked at him with a troubled expression, as if it wanted to add something but feared it didn't have the permission to speak up. Akashi thought this was enough.

He looked at the desk. "I will also take some of your pens before going," he said, quickly going over at it and filing some stationery away in the sleeve of his yukata.

"Um," Kuroko only said in confusion.

Back to his summoning circle, Akashi dipped his hand under the surface of the water in the pink bucket and closed his eyes, preparing to transport himself back.

A long moment passed by, as absolutely nothing happened. Akashi's eyebrow twitched.

This made no sense. He could always tell if somebody summoned him or called him by a bargaining spell, and he was positive this was the first type of the deal. Reopening his eyes, he whipped his head in the child's direction.

"I can't leave," he stated, accusing. The kid still had that troubled expression. "What kind of spell did you use?"

At the lack of a satisfying answer—Kuroko only shrugged and said "A normal one?", whether in defiance or genuine unsettling proof of further ignorance and ingenuity about the entire situation Akashi couldn't say—Akashi reached his hand out.

"Hand the book over," he ordered.

Albeit with some doubts, quickly dispelled by Akashi's stern glare, Kuroko dutifully passed him the heavy black book. Now that he looked at the cover, Akashi could swear he'd seen it somewhere already, and that wherever he had seen it, it surely shouldn't have ended up here in possession of a six years old.

"Page sixty-three," Kuroko piped up, and Akashi quickly flipped through the yellowed pages. Once he found it, he was at a loss for words.

"'Spell to summon a Demon King'," Akashi read flatly. Kuroko nodded unhelpfully.

He should have been able to break this by sheer will, since it came from a creature as spiritually weak as this child. A little push should have sufficed, and yet now that he was trying, he couldn't leave his spot. He wondered if this was due to the fact that his little rule-changing trick might have made somebody's summoning strength directly proportional to the pureness of their souls. In a normal, believable setting, if the world moved by logical rules, that should mean there were basically zero chances of any human ever summoning him. He had figured that even in the case of a pure soul binding him, the fact that it was pure would imply an innate weakness that he could exploit to shake the summoner off like a leaf.

That, or the child hid an innate magic power. Considering the long row of demonic successes dotting Akashi's existence, he had a proclivity for the first option. Which made things even more problematic. Akashi was very capable at anything he did, always. This was the first time he realized he might have been slightly too capable.

Kuroko stood up on its sock-clad feet. Its eyes bobbed up over the upper edge of the book while a tiny finger wiggled on the lower one, blindly pointing at one of the last lines.

"It says somewhere here that Goat-san has to do what I say if I do the spell well," it said. "Did it work?"

Akashi decided not to answer that, but address again the name issue with a dissatisfied glance and command of "Akashi Seijuurou", which had the wiggly finger recede and disappear. But the big blue eyes keep watching him attentively from right over the book as a soft voice dutifully repeated his name after him once again.

The spell was very complicated. Not only the process, but the reading as well—a knowledge that shouldn't belong to a six years old.

"How did you read this?" Akashi asked perplexed.

"Grandmother helped," Kuroko explained.

This grandmother seemed to be at the root of all of Akashi's current problems. However, while an adult's help in deciphering the spell made sense, it didn't explain how a six years old could manage to carry out all the steps perfectly with the needed amount of concentration. While Akashi doubted Kuroko had a good grip on the potential dangers it had put itself into by performing this ritual, it was also true that this bullying problem must have been of great worry for the child to put so much effort and dedication into the spell.

Akashi contemplated his choices again, which were now sadly reduced to a very few. Indulging the creature's wishes would come without a gain, despite that of a small vacation. Then again, Kuroko lacked in-depth knowledge on magic and seemed to be relying on Akashi for instructions on what to do with him next. This surely came in handy.

"Fine, let's assume I will help you." he said slowly, lowering the book so as to uncover Kuroko's full face. He noticed its eyes were now far more expectant and lively than they were seconds before. "You do understand you subjected yourself to a mandatory payment," Akashi lied evenly, chin high. "What I ask for, I shall take it once my job is done. There is no refusing this."

Kuroko frowned a bit. "The book didn't say that..."

"It was implied," Akashi said. "Demons do no favors. Everything has a price. It is a lesson that you should have learnt already."

Kuroko shut up. It didn't seem fond of speaking more words than the strict necessity, which Akashi could only appreciate.

Akashi pondered over the possibilities. There was no way he could be interested in such a young pure soul, as they tasted terrible and there had been weird happenings in the past from demons feeding on too innocent souls. That was alright as he definitely needed no more boost in power, and there was something else in the room that he fancied more.

"I will erase the plague of the bullies infesting your school the way you will find most fitting. In exchange, I will take possession of this book," Akashi stated clearly. There were many ways of getting rid of this kid without killing it: if he took the book away from the kid, he was certain to be freed from any future disturbance from it again. Moreover, the book had now tickled his interest quite strongly, to the point he could have almost considered all this hassle worth it.

Kuroko pouted. "But grandmo—"

"The book," Akashi repeated, unmovable. "And some of your stationery," he added as an afterthought. He was going to take full advantage of this situation. It was true that the Abyss ran scarce in functioning pens. Humans who would react with shock at his underlings' requests for useful materials were only fools who apparently expected demons to always write everything with blood.

A stiff silence fell between the two of them, until finally, "Alright," Kuroko said, extending its hand out. Akashi eyed it and decided that a bit of a show would convince Kuroko more of this predicament, so his far larger hand took Kuroko's, and when their grip tightened, he let a gratuitous tongue of flames roll languidly around their grip. Kuroko's eyes lit up in excitement.

.


Next on My Frend the Dimon King: When they're not heroically fighting bullies, Akashi plays with Kuroko and helps him with maths. Hell snakes take over the schoolyard. The teachers panic, and the Abyss panics as well because no one knows where the fuck the Demon King went.