There was already a piano in the music room when Shinji was finally shown to it: the first couple of days he'd been kept too busy for someone to schedule him time for practice, and he still hadn't had that full tour of the grounds. It was Hikari who finally brought him here, helpfully pointing out how to get here from the kitchen, greenhouse garden where the birdbath was and wing where the ceremonies were held as well as Tabris' rooms. "I know that the Master plays the piano," she told him. "Because Master and Mistress Israfel wanted to sing for him, so he accompanied them."

Shinji couldn't stay long, since he was on the way back from his first day helping Hikari in the kitchens and he needed to bathe. He definitely couldn't have touched any of the instruments, when his clothes were still a little damp. At least his hands were freshly scrubbed, but he was only wearing trousers and a rough shirt, like a boy in the fields instead of a house servant. He couldn't be seen in these, much less sit down at an instrument wearing them.

Two days after that, it was Tabris that brought him down to the music room, after wrapping a cloth of red silk around Shinji's eyes. Shinji had expected, when he woke up to be greeted by a smiling Tabris holding up that cloth for him, that he was going to stay in bed for another hour. His Master had done it before, touched Shinji while Shinji tried not to shiver because he couldn't see, trying to suppress the fear as instead of bows, kisses and caresses rained down on his helpless body, wrists and ankles also tied up with long silk scarves attaching them to the distant posts of Tabris' large bed.

The way he'd relaxed scared him even now. That after a few minutes of those caresses, some fool part of him had thought 'he's not going to hurt me,' and calmed. There was no hoping that the devil would stop, only the hunger for more touches, and when Tabris unbound one of his feet the relief wasn't that part of him was free to defend himself and it might be over soon, but that it meant Tabris wanted more access to Shinji's body.

He hadn't cried out for the demon to let him go: no, he'd craved physical release. More touches, more debauchery, more sin, and when it was finally over, when the knots were undone, he'd pressed himself up against Tabris and pressed a kiss to his chin, pressed his hands to that chest, because the worst thing about what was just done to him was that he hadn't been able to touch his Master. He'd wanted not to get away, but to return the pleasure he was being given. He'd whined and opened his mouth hungrily like a baby bird, craving kisses, and when he felt familiar lips touch his own? When Tabris was kind enough to give him what he wanted?

He'd felt grateful. So grateful, for the gentleness, and it was impossible to remember that Tabris was a demon. That he was only being gentle now so it would hurt more later.

Because Shinji already longed for his gentleness. He would miss it so much when it was taken away. Maybe that was part of why he was so greedy for it. He knew that Tabris wouldn't keep lying so wonderfully forever.

When he saw the cloth this morning, he sat up so Tabris could bind it around his eyes, after kissing both of them, and then began to lie back down, to make it easier to tie his limbs, but, "Come, sit on the side of the bed," Tabris said, pulling gently at one of Shinji's hands.

Tabris left the bed when Shinji's bare legs dangled over the sides, and touched Shinji's ankles. Shinji held his feet still obediently, and his eyes widened behind the blindfold when Tabris put on Shinji's slippers.

Then he took Shinji's hand again, to help him stand up. "Careful of the drop," he warned him, because Tabris' bed was much higher off the ground than Shinji's cot at the boarding school, thanks to the thickness of the mattress.

Shinji shouldn't have felt disappointed when Tabris asked him to hold out his arms and instead of doing something more exotic, he slipped Shinji's arms into the sleeves of the white dressing gown with silver embroidery that Tabris wore sometimes.

He coaxed Shinji out into the hall, carefully helped him make it down the stairs, and Shinji should have felt nervous. Not just because he was being led somewhere by a devil, but because he was walking blind and could have knocked his foot into something, or tripped, but he was in Tabris' careful hands and he wasn't afraid, even though he should be. Even though for the sake of his own sanity he had to be. Had to remember what Tabris was, what would happen to Shinji once he died.

But eventually they stopped, eventually Tabris raised Shinji's hand to his lips and kissed it, then kissed the blushes on Shinji's cheeks, and he could feel that silver hair brush his face, feel that familiar warmth. Catch the scent of him, a scent like the sea, one that meant pleasure, warmth, kindness… home.

He, he was falling in love, Shinji realized, struck with dread that couldn't even dim the besotted smile on his face as Tabris left him, not far, just far enough to open a door and lead him inside.

The devil stood behind Shinji and carefully untied the cloth.

A cello.

It looked a fine instrument, even finer than Shinji's mother's. Although hers must have looked better before it was placed in the hands of a clumsy boy, even though he'd tried not to damage it. Learning it, learning to be like her in some small way was the only thing it seemed that his father wanted him to do.

This was a gift, a princely gift, something just for him and it wasn't even anywhere near Shinji's birthday.

He should, he should think of it as part of his job, something Tabris wanted him to learn how to play so he could provide more entertainment, accompaniment for the piano, but all he could think to say was, "I'm not very good." Not so that Tabris would expect him to be terrible instead of punishing him for it, but because he didn't want his master to be disappointed.

"I'm sure you'll be fine," Tabris said, hugging him from behind. "It's my fault you haven't been able to practice since you got here. I asked them to find you an instrument, but I should have made it a higher priority."

Shinji shook his head, because no, he was no high priority. Getting him something like this shouldn't be urgent at all.

Was Tabris going to ask him to play something for him now, when Shinji was so horribly out of practice? He'd drop the bow! He'd forget every note! It would be like, like, no, far worse than any stage fright. Like someone tongue-tied in front of their crush. He didn't want to embarrass himself in front of Tabris. He didn't want Tabris to look at him with disappointment. With contempt. It would hurt so much, make him shrink away and want to die.

It would be torture, so, he knew, one day he would see those looks in those wine-red eyes. Tsking over how Shinji couldn't even cry and scream right, when his voice was hoarse from hours of torture, torture that would never stop, eternal torment. No hope that Tabris would smile for him, happy to see Shinji instead of Shinji's agony, ever again.

Just thinking about it made him weak in the knees, and Tabris helped him to the chair that was there for him to sit in while he played, and asked him what was wrong, and all Shinji could do was shake his head, ache inside when Tabris touched his cheek, gently trying to get Shinji to look at him (instead of away, like a coward), to tell him what was wrong.

All Shinji could do was shake his head.

"Shinji?" Tabris said coaxingly.

"I'm, I'm just happy, Master," he said, and it was terrifying how easy it was to pretend to be utterly besotted. How true it was. "You found this for me, because you thought I was good enough that it was worth listening to me play, but I'm not that good, Master. I'm not." He was going to let him down, and his shoulders hunched in, anticipating the blows. Remembering them.

"Oh, Shinji… That's what practice is for. Doing it over and over again, until it sounds good to you. My Israfel wanted me to accompany them when they sang for me, so I had to teach myself how to read the music, and which key was which. I'm fairly good at it by now, or at least Makoto doesn't look so annoyed anymore, but Cecelia said she liked that I was trying, and I think… If you wanted to play for me, if you wanted to try to create something beautiful for me to listen to, I would be very happy just with that."

Tabris said such wonderful things, and it wasn't fair. How was Shinji supposed to remember that it was all lies, from the Prince of them, when he wanted it to be real? He wanted it to be real so much he really would sell his soul for it, if his soul was still his own.

He was more than a little in love, no, he had fallen completely for the person Tabris pretended to be, he admitted to himself. How long before he let himself forget the reality, believe the lie, because he wanted it so much? Needed it so much he flung himself up against Tabris' chest, wishing that chest wasn't covered by a coat of black velvet brocade?

Thinking that he could open that coat, could sink to his knees, could take Tabris a good way into his mouth now, although he still had to be careful of choking. He knew how to use his hands on what he couldn't fit into his mouth yet, but right now his mouth was occupied with his Master's, a part of him so happy that Tabris responded to the press of Shinji's lips, was kissing him thoroughly now. Shinji's knees had gone weak again, but the strong arms around him held him up until Tabris finally set him down again into the chair, desperate for air.

Shinji panted, trying to catch his breath. He had to please Tabris, he had to show his thanks for the gift. He had to be a good servant. If he pleased his master, then his master wouldn't grow bored with pretending to be so kind to Shinji. The longer Shinji went without screwing up, the longer Tabris would stay his Tabris, his Master who was so kind to him.

He was such a coward, he was so terrified of losing that, and it was so cruel of Tabris to torture him like this. He wanted to hate him, he wished he could hate him, but that gentleness unmanned him.

The voice saying "Shinji?" when he dropped to his knees, wondering if Shinji was ill, and then the hand that touched his head when he opened Tabris' coat, not pulling him forward demandingly but just a reminder that Tabris was here, that Shinji should go at his own pace. Permission for Shinji to do what he wanted.

As though there was nothing wrong about what Shinji was doing, but that was the point. It was wrong, and making Shinji into a sinner, a pervert and a catamite was all according to plan, right? As long as Shinji was obedient, there was no need to break out sterner measures to force him into compliance with the devil's desires? Right? Shinji could hope?

Except the command to abandon all hope was graven on the portal to his soul's destination.

When Shinji finished and sat back, the devil scooped Shinji up in his arms and carried him over to the couch, opening the folds of the robe Shinji wore and giving Shinji the same pleasure as though there was nothing at all to be self-conscious about, nothing at all opposite about a master pleasuring their servant and looking up at Shinji's half-lidded eyes and gasping mouth with warm delight.

Afterwards, he felt so, too warm and sated. He just wanted to curl up with Tabris on the couch and let the devil keep lying to him by pretending to care.

He watched Tabris fold Shinji's robe closed, and adjust his own. "The cello isn't the only surprise I have for you today," the fallen angel said. "Let me know when you're ready."

Shinji didn't think he could be ready. Didn't think he could take any more kindness without crying like the baby he was. Then he realized that 'when you're ready' sounded like Shinji might need to steel himself.

Had he forgotten? Surprises didn't have to be pleasant. When Tabris showed his true colors, that would certainly come as a surprise to the part of Shinji that had been taken in. "I'm okay," he said, even though he wasn't.

He was given a brief, doubtful look: was he sure? But Shinji did look sure, so his Master smiled at him. "Wait here," Tabris told him, and left the room.

A short figure, too short to be a full-grown man entered, wearing a black hooded robe. Shinji tried to peer under it and saw a patch of reflected light, but when they pushed back the hood he was still startled to see "Kensuke!?"

That familiar grin: Kensuke was alright, better than alright, and Shinji had never been so relieved. "I heard you were sent to the workhouse, because of my father," he said wretchedly, he felt so horrid because of it.

Kensuke waved it off. "Oh, we were, but the recruiter that took us was from one of Iruel's factories – not your Father's, my father would rather have done something permanent than work for him, not after what he did to get his hands on our land, but the factory belonged to another one of the Circle. Iruel noticed how much I knew about ships, trains and military technology, and I was moved somewhere else. I'm one of my Mistress' knights now," Kensuke said proudly, and Shinji noticed the sword that hung at his side.

"Iruel?" another demon? "You sold your soul too?" Kensuke… And it was Shinji's father's fault, even if not Shinji's. Unless Kensuke was lying, and they'd found him and taken his soul because Shinji mentioned him. Because Kaji tried to find him and Tabris found out and thought it would be useful, a way to manipulate Shinji. Earn his gratitude.

"Oh, no." Kensuke shook his head, sitting down. "The members of the Circle that own factories bargain with Mistress Iruel to control their workers' minds. Same with their private armies and bully-boys. The sorcerers do it because that way they don't need to pay the workers, just provide food and a room for them all to sleep in. It's better for us since we don't get hungry, cold, tired, or injured. Or dead: your father's factories especially are deathtraps if you've worked too long, gotten tired and don't watch where you put your feet, if they didn't have Mistress Iruel in their minds looking out for them. You've heard about how the lower classes drink all the time when they get off work? It's because they ache, and they need it to fall asleep. Everyone kept telling me how lucky I was, that I didn't have to work at a normal factory. It was much better at the factory than at the workhouse even before they noticed that I was smart and brought me to Mistress Iruel's attention. My father's still doing well: his leg used to ache in cold weather, old war wound, but Mistress Iruel's power keeps us healthy. And young. I'd give her my soul, but since she's controlling my mind and body right now, that's not allowed, and I don't want her to free me even long enough for me to pledge myself again. I was really worried she'd release me when she said that Master Tabris was looking for me."

He gave Shinji a pleading look, a 'come on, let me check your Composition notes?' "I don't mind visiting you, it's good to see you, but please don't ask for me to become your servant, okay? Mistress Iruel's got me doing some really cool things. I'm going to get to work on warships," he said, voice laden with reverence.

"That's alright?" Shinji said haltingly. He didn't want Kensuke to be stuck in this house: what if he was turned into a demon like the pink-haired girl, who had already left to go corrupt others? "But is it really okay, that a demon's controlling your mind?" he asked, even knowing what the answer would be.

Controlling the mind of someone who had sold their soul, he'd learned from Kaji, put the bargain in doubt. Someone (an angel?) could argue that they hadn't chosen to damn themselves of their own free will, not when their free will had been taken away.

So Tabris had to control Shinji's feelings the old-fashioned way, by pretending to be so kind to him, and he was terribly perfect at making Shinji adore him.

Without that protection, when love spells existed (according to Ritsuko), the devotion in Kensuke's eyes when he named Mistress Iruel probably seemed real enough to him. The demoness could have made herself Kensuke's goddess, someone he'd damn himself a thousand times over in order to win a smile from her, or the right to kneel at her feet, with just a wave of her hand.

At least, at least Kensuke was a good person? He seemed happy now, and at least there was some chance his soul could still go to heaven?

Unlike Shinji's.


The names (and appearances) of the two Israfels are taken from Campus Apocalypse, just like Ramiel's in the last chapter was from that manga. Campus Apocalypse has angels that need to possess humans: how could I not use 'demonic possession' for this fic?

Also in CA, Iruel uses a video game as her host and controls people, including Kensuke. Iruel is the Angel of Terror, so the correspondence to people's emotions, and how controlling someone's emotions controls their thoughts is appropriate.