Writer's Notes: Yay, chapter three. Sorry for the OOCness in the last chapter at the end. xD I did warn you. I warn you again for this chapter, beware the OOCness. I kept picking at it and I think I made it worse. -sweatdrop-

The chapters seem to get more OOC as I go. D8 Sorry about that. I need to improve my writing skills. Revya talks too much in this chapter (and a lot like Gig) and Vitali seems like a sissy. Grawr. Definitely need to improve the writing skills.

Disclaimers (And stuff): Vitali's restaurant never had a name, in the game it just said 'At Vitali's Hotpod Restaurant'. But I used the name 'Tranquility Grotto', which came from Rayless Night's fanfiction The Hotpod Melee. (I love her fanfictions! -insert heart here- )

So yeah. Beware of OOCness again! Dx

Vitali

I am a guilty man.

I am considered one of the 'heroes' that defeated the terror of the world, the Devourlord. In a sense, I suppose I am. I may be called a hero. My action may have been heroic. But a hero does things for the good of the world, he is stupid and courageous.

So, all in all, I was, am, not the hero others may consider me.

Especially when, as I sit here alone as I am now, I remember the past events. I simply cannot help if my memories decide to return to me. It is unpredicted, unplanned. Sometimes unneeded. This time, it did not matter. Only a reminiscent moment.

I could not be a hero when I did not wholly hate the Devourlord. I could not be a hero when I could say that I even liked her. Not love, the feeling was not as strong as love. Indescribable, something almost like friendship, companionship. Something close, but not.

She had been a mysterious person; the moment she showed me a side I never thought she could posses, the hate I harbored turned into something else…Yes, I suppose it would be the most appropriate to say I liked her.

It was wrong to say that, to admit that, after all she had done to the world. And coming from the mouth of a 'hero' to the world, it was doubly wrong.

But it was true. I liked her.

And I still do.

After she had shown herself in Corsius, beaten nearly all our soldiers, and then fled from Levin (I distinctly remember the Devourlord saying she was hungry, but Levin was too absorbed in his victory so I decided against telling him) we began to plan our army to attack her when her guard was down, or whenever we had out chance.

After she had remodled Orviska, it was my duty to sneak in and spy, to find out any information we could use against her.

It had been utter child's play. The castle was like a daycare inside, all of the Devourlord's closer ring insane or near insanity. There were a few who were sane enough (like that gypsy girl), who took care of the others. However, the captured soldiers and clerics and others were perfectly sane, so it was also my job to turn her people against her, to turn the terrified salves into strong, noble warriors. At least, the ones who weren't too scared of her.

I spent quite a bit of time there, and I wasn't supposed to leave. But it was utterly pointless in staying where there was no information useful to our situation when I could be doing something else beneficial. So I planned to leave, before a certain crisis hit.

"A cook! We need a cook!"

"Or a cleric, someone! Someone who knows how to cook!"

I couldn't help myself; cooking was a hidden passion of mine. Several clerics who failed at clerisy became chefs, because putting together potions was similar to cooking. However, as a very accomplished cleric, no one expected me to become a chef. And for someone as quiet as I, it was unexpected that I should have a passion for cooking.

But no one knew me here.

"What's wrong?" I asked the two panicked soldiers still dressed in my own soldier garb.

"Food," one of them stated plainly, "The monster's hungry. And so is Queen Diness."

"But…didn't she eat an hour ago?" I responded. It hadn't been too soon ago she was down here demanding a certain cuisine.

The other soldier shrugged, his face worried. "That's what Lord Dio said, but then she got angry and demanded he sleep. If he wakes up she'll be angry, so he actually went to sleep…but now the Queen's throwing a tantrum. And the Devourlord woke up while her Majesty was singing a certain lullaby, and now she's in a foul mood…"

He shook his head, trembling. Even if he hated the Devourlord, he was one of the many who were too terrified of her to do anything.

"And? We have plenty of cooks in the castle, don't we?" I asked. This situation didn't make any sense. When the All-Eater took over the castle and remodeled it, all the royal cooks in the castle we kept…there was no reason that food should be an issue.

"She…wanted hotpods. We have a large stock of them, but the chefs have no clue how to prepare them…they tried, but they brought her food that she didn't find acceptable and now she's in a worse mood. She's killed three chefs already…but the only chefs we have are the ones in the kitchens and they can't cook what she wants!"

His voice had risen to a wail, and his friend patted him on the shoulder.

"We serve her her food…so if something else goes up and she doesn't like it, Miles and I are the next to go…we can't afford to lose any more cooks…"

Hotpods. Relatively delicious things, if prepared right. I grew up on them. But they were somewhat of a commoner's food, and the cooks here were all royal staff. It wasn't strange that they didn't know how to prepare them.

"I…know a bit about hotpods," I told them cautiously. I couldn't help the urge to cook. Even if it was for a monster.

The two soldiers breathed a sigh of immense relief.

"Yeah? Get in the kitchens. NOW."

So I did. I removed my armor and tied my hair back, dressed in a typical cleric uniform so I wouldn't be recognized as a stranger.

And I cooked. I was too absorbed to care what I was cooking, just things I thought would taste good together. It was my first time. And I was naturally skilled, If I do say so myself. Grilled hotpods, stewed hotpods, hotpod juice…anything that this vegetable/fruit could be turned into, I made.

Time passed, and the castle eventually went silent. Eerily silent, but no one complained. I was still in the kitchens, cleaning up and writing down the new recipes I discovered.

"So this sissy cleric was the one who made the food?"

I froze. A mature, velvety-smooth, feminine voice, still with a hint of girlishness.

"…Devourlord," I greeted.

I turned to face the terrible monster in all her glorious beauty. She was wearing a red brassier to cover her breasts and white pants with brown sandals; her crimson red hair flowed down to just a little below her shoulders, and her red eyes pierced through any normal color. Her clothes normally would have been described as scandalous, but it fit her, and she wore it like…a Devourlord. And I knew that she didn't wear it to show the skin, she wore it because it allowed her faster movement without the weight of clothes to bring her down, even though they didn't weigh much. She took advantage of everything she had.

She grinned, and leaned against the doorway with a plate in her hand.

"I was surprised," she said, "when the food started improving drastically. This was what they tried to feed me in the beginning. Try it."

There was no reason for her to kill me, especially if I pleased her, but I took the plate cautiously and sampled the food that was on it.

It was disgusting.

The hotpods were overcooked and slimy, like a dead lung coated with some sort of cheese-based sauce slathered all over it.

She laughed at the disgust on my face; I hastily tried to cover it. I was not known for showing such emotion.

"You see? So I came down to see who made the better stuff. My compliments to the chef." She clapped her hands lazily.

"Damn that was good," said a male voice. "Thank god someone here knows how to put out a good spread."

I immediately recognized it as the Grim Reaper's. I knew how the Devourlord and the God of Destruction worked together, that they were in one body, but it was still so strange to hear a male voice, let alone another voice at all, come from such an innocent looking girl's body. Yet her own voice was strange, it was a half-matured sound (although she was finished with puberty) still with a taint of innocence that was no longer present. It was deceptive.

The Devourlord smiled, not looking at me anymore. She closed her eyes as she conversed with her other self.

"You seem to be in a better mood, Gig."

"What's mood got to do with it? If something's stupid, I say so. If something's delicious, I say so. It has nothing to do with 'mood'. Plus it wasn't me that was throwing a girly rampage."

"I am a girl, Gig," she said, smirking lightly.

"Yeah? I forgot. I thought you were a monster, seeing as your mind is beyond twisted and shit. And monsters don't have genders."

"I was a human originally and my mind twisted into a monster. So I'm still classified as a female. "

Huh. So she classified herself as a monster. I could hear Gig, the reaper, grumbling. The redheaded girl smirked triumphantly.

"Huh. So you're sensitive about it, then, if you're arguing so much? Fine, fine, have it your way then, girlie." He said.

She scoffed at his nickname, but opened her eyes and turned her attention back to me.

"So. Who are you?"

I stiffened slightly, but she didn't seem to notice. Or maybe she did. Was this a casual question, or did she suspect that I was a spy?

"Vitali." I said, answering as normally as I could. Not like I sounded much different, since my voice is apparently always monotone.

"Huh." She moved from the doorway to one of the kitchen tables, resting her chin on the palm of her propped-up arm. "Where are you from?"

Did she suspect?

"I'm just an ordinary peasant you captured."

"Yeah? You're just a regular old schmuck?" Said Gig. "Doesn't seem that way."

I felt cold. Clammy. I was professional in my spying abilities, in my secrecy, in my ability to sneak away. But here, if they knew, I was a dead man. Trapped, with the All-Eater in front of me, her onyx blade gleaming on her back. Everyone feared death. Well, except Gig, and possibly the Devourlord.

I kept silent.

She stared at me, her red eyes piercing through my dark brown ones. Some people said my eyes were almost black, so it was hard to talk to me. But they had never been in the presence of crimson eyes.

She blinked and leaned back on the chair.

"Cook me something else."

It was my turn to blink, but it took a few seconds to process before I turned for a pan and some ingredients. It was a relief to turn away from her, but I could feel her gaze watching me. I was honestly confused. Her questions seemed to imply she was suspicious, but I wasn't dead yet. And the Devourlord wasn't merciful enough to let a spy continue to live in her midst.

I placed down a dish in front of her—more hotpods. She took one of the newly-washed forks off of the towel they were drying on and poked a perfectly cooked hotpod in a cream sauce. It seemed like her actions were in slow motion as she moved it into her mouth. I felt that if she didn't like it, I would be a dead man.

"Hmmmmm." Said Gig, "Yep. You're a liar. You're definitely not some regular old schmuck."

Shit. The profanity was out of character, even in my head. But I had been exposed, and failed at my job.

"No regular peasant would be skilled enough to prepare something this good," he continued, and I mentally breathed a sigh of relief. No. I was still safe. They had questioned me to find out about my cooking ability, where I had gotten my skills.

"No, I am," I said, "I grew up very poor on a hotpod farm, and living on a hotpod farm I ate a lot of them and watched my parents prepare them. When I grew up, I watched a lot of others cook. And I take interest in exotic foods. This was my first time cooking."

It was probably the most I'd ever talked in…my entire life. But I had to keep them believing. It was really true, anyway. She smiled, and poked another hotpod.

"Have any dreams?" She asked.

I was momentarily stunned by the…randomness of the question. She asked such...perfect questions with perfect timing. They questioned by identity, yet somehow I interpreted the conversation now as more of a 'friendly' get-to-know-you conversation, if it could be called that. She was the Devourlord after all.

"…I suppose, if I live, to open my own restaurant."

"Yeah? Nice. We'll visit all the time," Said Gig, laughing. I couldn't help but keep a grimace off my face, and the girl grinned. "Aww, what's that? Don't like our company?" Gig asked in a pretend-hurt voice.

I didn't have to answer, because the redhead handed her plate to me, implying she wanted seconds.

"Have a name?" She asked, "'Cause it's going to happen."

I felt my eyebrows rising at the certainty of her voice, but I couldn't help but feel happy because of the certainty. I personally never believed I could open my own restaurant, I simply did not seem to have the time to with being a skilled cleric; people were always wounded. It was called a dream for a reason.

"Uh…no."

Blunt answer. But I didn't. I handed back her refilled plate, and she began eating again.

"…Tranquility Grotto," She said after a while of silent eating.

I blinked at the…sheer…peacefulness of the name, of how perfectly it fitted the image I had constructed in my head over the years.

Her red eyes met mine, reading the shock and disbelief that she was capable of such a name in my eyes.

Leaning back lazily, she shrugged. "That's what you all hope for, don't you? Some safe, peaceful place somewhere. A vault, a sturdy cave to keep you that way. Good food, happy family, laughter. A nice life, free of danger, free of fear. Free of anything that threatens you. Whatever makes you happy."

"…Yes."

She shook her head, her expression of something similar to disgust. "Idiots. Had I not come into power the world would still be in ruins. 'If there is evil in this world, it lurks the hearts of man.'" She grinned, an expression that was a mix of pleasure, mischief, and evil. "I just take personification of the darkness."

I couldn't say much, but I must have looked slightly angry at her indirect insult towards me, or surprised at her philosophical words or something. Whatever expression I showed (I was still confident that I was hiding my emotions, how in the world could she see through me? The Devourlord was more skilled than I thought…) she laughed at it.

"You numbnuts call me the Devourlord because I am the personification of evil; I eat everything—lives, confidence, innocence, pleasure. But if Danette or Layna were still alive, they could tell you I wasn't born like this." Her voice expressed extreme hatred at those names, and I assumed they were two people that used to be close to her before she killed them. The Devourlord was an enemy that sprang from nowhere, so it was difficult to obtain any information on her. "Evil is not the one at fault. Light thinks it is superior, and that arrogance is what births darkness. Humanity is ridiculously stupid. Stupid Layna, raised me to be a sacrifice and instead I became a terror to the world."

She laughed. I was intrigued, she did not consider herself human. She was so full of confidence, so devoid of fear…was it really possible? How tough was the Devourlord?

I hesitated before asking a question, something that quite possibly could reveal my position and get me killed.

"Are you afraid of anything, Devourlord?"

"No."

I believed her. She handed me her plate again, and I served her thirds.

The infiltration of the place had been ridiculously easy, and so was escaping. I spent far longer than I needed to, enjoying myself as a chef. But the rebellion was about to begin soon, and I would need to take my place amongst the warriors as a cleric. And if I was found, I was dead for sure.

When the soldier on watch yelled that the All-Eater had arrived, I tensed. Somehow, this felt like betrayal. I hadn't spent long in her presence, but seeing a bit of her, the person she was out of the battlefield…

I shook my head. When I finally stepped in her presence again, as her enemy, knees weak, revealing who I was…she smiled.

She knew.

She had known all along.

"Fancy seeing you here, Vitali," She smirked. I couldn't respond.

"Huh. You guys don't have the guts to stand up to us, so you just sneak around instead. Pathetic." It was Gig's voice, mocking and proud as always. But what the girl knew he knew, so was he, in a way, protecting me? With the Devourlord knowing my name, suspicion began to arise; I was a spy, so how did she become acquainted with me? Knowing my name was acquaintance enough—as I spy I should have given her a fake name. But with Gig's comment, that suspicion died.

But the knowing in her eyes told me she had known since the very beginning. So why didn't she kill me then?

She stuck her sword into the ground and leaned on the hilt, still smirking. She spoke to me in a low murmur, enough for me alone to hear since I stepped out to confront her.

"Don't look so scared, doesn't seem like you're too known for being an emotional lad. But go ahead, maybe that'll bring down the morale of this stupid get-together."

"Why didn't you kill me?" I asked bluntly, trying to contort my face into the look of a fierce warrior.

"You wanted to die?" She questioned with fake curiousness. "You weren't a threat in my own castle, sissy-cleric. You didn't try to poison me, and Gig and I both agree you put out a damn good spread. So why should we kill you? We want that future restaurant of yours."

It was such a basic…fair reason. I didn't hurt her, she didn't hurt me. And she had liked my cooking.

But she was the Devourlord. Our side had lost many comrades by her hand. Yet…

She grabbed the hilt and pulled the sword out of the ground, preparing for battle.

The group that she had brought with her dwindled down to almost nothing.

But the Devourlord stood confidently, proudly, without a shred of fear. The emotion showing in her eyes could only be described at amusement. She was not affected by the betrayal of her people, even her inner ring, although the redhaired gypsy stayed with her.

She lost.

We won.

In the glory of my, our, victory, I completely forgot about the side she had shown me. I cheered for her defeat; her stone cold face as she sliced through the flesh of warriors caused me to remember her only as a coldblooded murderer again.

I had seen the lonely look in her eyes when Gig returned to being Vigilance, but I disregarded it in the glory of victory.

When I finally calmed myself and she was gone, gone forever sealed inside the sword that still glistened with the blood of those she had killed, I remembered.

But of course by then, it was too late.

"Hello! Welcome, welcome!"

"Another order of grilled hotpods, coming up!"

"Enjoy! Eat up!"

Vitali sat back and watched the progress of his restaurant. Yes, it fitted the image in his head exactly. And business was booming extraordinarily; the waitresses were kept extremely busy. But as the day began endeding, the rush of customers was thinning out a bit, and he could take a short break.

"Welcome to Tranquility Grotto! May I take your order?"

He frowned.

No. He had nothing to be displeased about, but everytime he heard the name of this place, he couldn't help but feel a little, or a lot, melancholy. Vitali didn't come up with it; the name that everyone had praised came straight from the lips of the Devourlord. Of course, he didn't reveal this to anyone. They wouldn't understand. And they wouldn't believe him anyway.

He looked at his customers, eating happily, his waitresses, maybe a little tired by pleased with their job. The chefs he had trained, honored to be working under him.

He couldn't help but think that the Devourlord, and Gig, would have been even more pleased with his food now. He had gotten better at cooking since…that time.

"Cheeef! Dinner rush! We need you in the kitchen!"

He returned to the kitchen, breaking out of his reminiscence.

Vitali would never tell anyone, but this restaurant, Tranquility Grotto—a hotpod restaurant—was dedicated to her. And her other half, Gig, he supposed.

It was the Devourlord that had helped him reach his dream, afterall.