Tilling Soil
By: Aviantei
Chapter Eight
On any other day, Haruhana Mocha would have already been on her way to the cafeteria with Whiskey and Ruma for lunch, but that day had other priorities in place. No sooner than the teacher had wrapped up her lecture and the bell had rang, Mocha had already bolted from her seat and was en route to the next classroom over. She'd learned from dogged experience that Yukio was prone to go off on his own without anyone else and could very quickly become impossible to find until classes resumed—or even until his Demon Pharmaceutical lessons in the afternoon.
Well not today, Yukio-kun! This time you're going to hang out with me whether you like it or not!
Did Yukio deserve some time to himself? Sure. But he also deserved not to isolate himself constantly, and that was exactly what he was doing. Mocha cared about her friends, so she took it upon herself to help out with the situation as best she could.
Mocha's efforts were successful, and Yukio was the first one to emerge from his classroom next door. After a short fist pump of celebration, Mocha rushed forward with enough theatrics that there was no way he'd be able to miss her.
"Yuki-chan!" Yukio looked up at the sound of the nickname, quickly shifting his neutral expression into a polite smile. It couldn't erase the faint bags starting to form under his eyes, though. As much as Mocha wanted to lecture him about the importance of taking care of himself, though, it wasn't the time for that. "We haven't been able to really hang out with each other since we got back from summer. You wanna eat lunch together?" Yukio looked hesitant for a moment, and Mocha added, "Not with Whiskey-chan and Ruma-chan. Just us."
The furrow in Yukio's brow eased a bit, and he nodded. "I suppose that's alright, Mocha-san." Mocha hated that they couldn't all easily come together on the same page, but she'd take what she could get. "Ah, I didn't stop by the dorm this morning, though, so I didn't get to pick up a lunch from Nii-san. Would you mind if we headed to the school store?"
"That's a-okay with me!" Mocha threw up a salute and followed Yukio as he led the way through the starting to form crowd of students. She clasped her hands behind her back and glanced up at Yukio again. "Though if you didn't stop by the dorm, that means you were out for the night, right? Don't tell me you didn't get any rest."
If he weren't so polite in his speech, Yukio might have grunted. "I ended up having a late shift at the Order's office yesterday," he said, voice at just the right volume that Mocha could still hear, but his words would be lost in the surrounding chatter. "There have been lots of minor incidents and sightings lately. We've been busier than ever."
Mocha dropped her own smile for a moment. "Even with the Headmaster's barriers?" Yukio nodded, and Mocha frowned a bit. "It isn't any particular kind, is it? Like a bunch of Coal Tars or something?"
"No, there aren't any real patterns or anything." Mocha kept herself from audibly sighing in relief. She'd intentionally asked about something different, but she'd been worried that Amaimon's presence may turn into a substantial amount of Earth Kin crawling up through the cracks. Whatever was going on then wasn't obviously connected to the Earth King. Yukio caught Mocha's contemplative expression and pinched his brow. "Sorry, you invited me out to eat, not to hear me complain about my work problems."
"No, no, I don't mind at all!" Mocha gave Yukio an earnest stare that conveyed as much determination as she could possibly muster. "We're friends, Yuki-chan. That means it's perfectly fine for you to vent at me if you need to." She reached the door first and held it open for Yukio and a few other students that passed through.
Yukio's chuckle helped melt away some of Mocha's concerns. "That may be true, but I am still your teacher. I can't go dumping everything on my students."
Mocha put on her best pout. "We're friends first, Yuki-chan. I thought I told you that."
"Ah, yes, my mistake." Mocha nodded her approval, even though she knew Yukio hadn't fully convinced himself that that wall was an okay one to take down. It was a lot like when she'd first met Whiskey—not that she'd tell either of them about the parallel. Ahead of them, students were already gathered around the school store, but it wasn't enough to make the verifiable mob that could form. Leaving class early had some benefits to it. Yukio adjusted his glasses to look at the menu ahead of them. "But enough about me. How have you been, Mocha-san? Outside of cram school, naturally."
"Oh, you know me. Just living my best life!" Yes, the whole situation with Amaimon was throwing some wrenches into the scheme of things, and it didn't help that Ruma and Whiskey were more tense than usual, but Yukio didn't need to be burdened by that—not when he was having a tough time of it himself. Mocha stood on her tiptoes to try and get a glimpse at what all the store had left in stock, though she didn't have much success. "Class and cram school keep me busy, and Whiskey-chan's been helping me and Ruma-chan stay on track." Whoops, I didn't mean to bring up Whiskey-chan again.
"Pheles-san, huh?" Yukio said under his breath. The two had managed to reach some sort of compromise that didn't involve unintentionally antagonizing the other, but there was still a cloud of tension over them from the start of the school year. "I don't mean to pry, but has she had something else come up lately? Like another project or something?"
I hate to lie to you, Yuki-chan, but you really don't want to hear the answer to that. "I know she went to spent some time with her dad a bit ago. I think they were having some family time together." If you considered babysitting your violent, demon king of an uncle family time. Yukio started to frown again, and Mocha continued before his train of thought could get too far. "They didn't really get to see each other too much over summer vacation, y'know? So she's been out a bit. Why do you ask, Yuki-chan?" If he was starting to suspect something was up, that would turn into a mess of its own—and neither Yukio or Whiskey needed that.
"Well, it's just…" Yukio sounded like he was about to sigh, but he bit back the sound. "Nii-san's been worried since she hasn't been able to come over for dinner lately. So I was wondering if you could maybe pass that message along?"
Mocha pumped her fists and nodded. "Leave it to me, Yuki-chan!" As much as possible, she wanted to avoid any potential conflicts, especially since her circle of friends had expanded since the start of the year. Whether it was playing go-between or helping people let off steam, Mocha just wanted the people around her to be happy. "Message received, Yuki-chan-sensei! I'll be sure to deliver it to its recipient as soon as possible." With everything that was going on, Whiskey could use the reprieve of hanging out with Rin anyways.
"Thanks, Mocha-san. I appreciate it." Yukio smiled, but he still looked tired. The person in front of them finished up their purchase, leaving open the way to the register. Yukio gestured forward. "Ladies first, Mocha-san."
Accepting the chivalry, Mocha stepped forward to grab her lunch.
Having several years' worth of experience as her best friend, Ryouichi had no problem telling that Ayane was still on cloud nine from her date. Her usual friendly fire of insults had toned down significantly over the past forty-eight hours, and there was hardly a moment where she didn't have a happy blush on her face. She hadn't even looked so excited when she'd earned her way into nationals the previous year.
I don't know what that guy did to get her, but damn he got her good.
Things hadn't changed by the time dinner had rolled around, and Ayane was humming to herself as she tended to the meat. They'd decided to go out for yakiniku, and the usual quartet had surrounded the table, despite the heat rolling off the grill in the center. Michiko had already tucked into her rare-cooked pieces of meat, while Yori had an oddly intent look on her face as she watched the vegetables. Ryouichi didn't trust himself not to burn anything, so he enjoyed the scent of frying beef and let the others take care of his portion.
"Has she been like this even when she goes back to the dorm?" Ryouichi asked, directing the question of Michiko. She picked up exactly on what he meant and nodded.
"Nonstop, darling. Isn't it great how love effects people?"
"I'm right here, you know," Ayane said, but there wasn't anywhere near as much bite in her voice as usual. Ryouichi couldn't tell if it was nice to see her acting somewhat softer, or if it just made him more paranoid that it was a prank. Clicking her chopsticks together, Ayane didn't falter in her cooking duties, expertly flipping over a line of meat in a matter of a few seconds. "I think my good mood is beyond justified, considering you tend to get worked up whenever a new light novel release you like comes out."
Yup, it was definitely a trap. "Have you seen how amazing Elmer C. Albatross is? I'd die for that man." Seated beside him, Yori nodded in agreement.
"Point being is that there's nothing weird about me being happy about a date going well." Ayane didn't succumb to pouting, but an embarrassed flush that wasn't because of the grill started to crawl up her neck. "Ah, dinner's up, Ryou-chan. Gimme your plate."
Ryouichi nodded and proffered the requested dish, his mouth watering as the smell of fresh grilled meat drew ever closer. He ducked his head and muttered a quick thanks for the meal before tucking in, glad for the opportunity to splurge a bit.
Yori took the opportunity to distribute her share of vegetables. "We really don't mean to tease you so much, Ayane-san. I just think that everyone's happy for you."
Michiko carefully dabbed her napkin at her mouth so as not to smudge her lipstick as she nodded. "Exactly, darling. It's such a rare event that we can't help but getting worked up about it. Hm, though I'll admit maybe our way of showing some excitement could use some class…"
Ryouichi swallowed and paused in inhaling his meat long enough to quip, "It's not like you weren't getting into it with everyone else, Michiko-san."
"Oh, guilty as charged, I will admit. That doesn't make it my finest moment, now does it?"
Ayane snorted midway to raising her glass of water to her lips. "You guys are impossible." She downed half the cup in one gulp and let out a refreshed sounding sigh. Her lips curled up into a satisfied smile. "Well, I guess I fit right in that, too, so I'm glad you have you guys around."
"Aya-chan's going soft," Ryouichi stage-whispered to Yori.
"Last I checked, Ryou-chan, I'm the one cooking your dinner, aren't I?"
Still holding his chopsticks, Ryouichi clapped his hands together in a prayer as he dipped low for a bow. "I humbly offer my apologies."
"Dude, you're gonna get your hair stuck in the grill!"
Yori's giggle was so subtle it might have gotten lost in the din of the restaurant if Ryouichi hadn't been sitting right next to her. He and Ayane exchanged the quick glances of a truce, and Michiko smiled as she started setting out a fresh round of meat over the fire. Once Yori had finished laughing into her hand, a light of recognition flashed in her eyes. "Oh, right! Ayane-san, I looked into that thing you asked me about yesterday!"
"Oh yeah, me, too!" Ryouichi said, brushing down his bangs to make sure he really wasn't about to catch his hair on fire. Michiko, who hadn't been part of the group text, raised an eyebrow but otherwise didn't interrupt. "I searched around a bit, and I found a lot of stuff from like the Bible? Like it's some valley or something. What did you find Yori-chan?" They hadn't had the chance to compare information yet.
"Mm, I found much of the same." Yori fidgeted with her chopsticks and cleared her throat. "In the Hebrew Bible, Gehenna appears in the book of Jeremiah as a place of sacrifice. Later, it becomes cursed, and is mythologically a gateway to hell. The real-world valley is located in Jerusalem, and it's now known as the Valley of Hinnom."
Ryouichi reached over to pat Yori on the shoulder. "That's our Yori-san for you!"
"While I'm impressed that you can remember that much off the top of your head, darling, I'll admit I'm a bit lost." Michiko propped her elbows on the table and leaned the slightest bit forward. "I'd guess that this had something to do with a game you two are playing if Aya-chan wasn't the one asking."
"I was wondering the same thing," Yori said, munching on one of her grilled vegetables.
Ryouichi caught onto Ayane's increasingly red face and have her a shit-eating grin. "Go ahead, Aya-chan, why don't you tell them why you were so curious about what Gehenna was." He'd had the same question and already heard the answer, but it was so much more satisfying making Ayane admit it out loud.
Ayane looked like she was considering tossing of the empty plates across the grill at him but seemed to think better of it. "I wanted to know," she said, her voice bordering on a mumble, "because when I asked Amaimon-kun where he was from, that was his answer."
Ryouichi couldn't hold it in anymore—he let out his splutter of laughter. Yori's eyes went wide, and she must have mis-swallowed, because the next second she was trying to chug down her tea in reprieve. Michiko used a hand to cover up her smirk, but it did nothing to muffle the amused "Oh my" that came from her lips.
Predictably, Ayane snarled. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up!"
Michiko was the first to regain her composure; Ryouichi and Yori were having problems catching their breath, though for completely different reasons. "All apologies," Michiko said, not able to completely restrain her smile. "It's just a bit adorable that he decided to tell you that he's from gateway to hell. Especially at this age."
"I can't believe you fell for a chuunibyou," Ryouichi said, still snickering every other syllable. Ayane's glare wasn't the worst he'd ever gotten from her, so it didn't deter him in the slightest. "Super serious sports star Fukui Ayane falls for some punk chuunibyou who thinks he's some demon prince or whatever. Miracles really do exist."
"Ah, yes," Ayane said, raising her voice in a deadpan tone as she continued to stare daggers across the table, "Shirou Ryouichi's second year of middle school. Goodness, I remember it well—"
Ryouichi threw up his arms. "I surrender!" There were several potential ends to that sentence, and he didn't like a single one of them.
"Still, I'm sure he was just saying it as a joke," Yori said, though she didn't sound entirely sure. Michiko nudged Ayane in the side to get her to stand down, and Ryouichi let his hands fall back into his lap. Yori slowly rotated her glass. "Maybe he's just really into the occult?" She didn't say it, but there was a flash behind her eyes that seemed to be asking, Are you gonna be okay with that?
"Well, weird hobbies or not, it's not gonna change anything." Ayane looked back what was left on her plate and took her chopsticks back in hand. "I'm not saying he's not eccentric, but I liked spending time with him. I like to think that my feelings aren't weak enough to waver over something like that." And as if to put the topic to rest, she stuffed a rather large cut of beef into her mouth.
Yup, Ryouichi couldn't help but think, Mr. Demon Prince over there got Ayane good.
Amaimon woke up with a sense of pain weighing down his limbs. What was different was that it wasn't the usual ongoing pain of the spears, but instead a dull thrum that felt like a faint bruise in comparison to that ongoing agony. It took him a moment to recognize that there was a hard, flat tile floor pressing against his back and that the world around him wasn't pitch black. Yes, it was dark, but there was enough night light seeping in through the window that his vision had no trouble seeing what was around him, especially with the ambient, flickering glow that he'd learned to recognize as a television. Belatedly, the music and sound effects of some video game or another registering in his ears.
Right, this is Aniue's room.
It took Amaimon a moment to even understand why he was out in the open, rather than trapped back up in the cuckoo clock again. It didn't help that he'd lost his patience and charged against Rin with his Heart bared, pushing past the limits of his host body—that should have been enough for Mephisto to punish him more, to not let him out again…
And yet there he was.
Amaimon stared up at the shadowed form of the domed ceiling, listening to the sounds of Mephisto's video game and enjoying the reprieve from the pain. Sure, he enjoyed fighting, but getting hurt wasn't fun when you couldn't struggle against it. Complaining would be stupid. So he just lied there and simmered in his anger that was still there, unrelenting beneath the surface of exhaustion, losing track of how much time had passed.
"Don't tell me that you're just going to sit there and pretend you're not awake," Mephisto's voice said from somewhere in the dimness. Not wanting to turn the dull thrum of pain in his neck into an all out ache, Amaimon flicked his eyes to the side, seeing Mephisto sitting in a beanbag, dressed in his yukata. A game controller was in his hands, and he wasn't even bothering to look at Amaimon. "Where was all that energy you used to launch yourself at our dear younger brother earlier?"
It was a trick question; Mephisto had to know exactly the condition Amaimon's body was in. "Don't feel like it," Amaimon said, his tongue working slowly. Even to his own ears, his voice sounded more tired than usual. He wanted some sugar to perk himself up, but it was too much effort to reach for his pockets.
"Goodness, I did warn you not to go so overboard earlier." It didn't matter how lighthearted Mephisto's voice sounded; Amaimon knew better, that there was frustration and anger underneath the surface. He'd screwed up again. "And yet you went and even brought out your Heart of all things. At this rate, we won't be able to keep that host body of yours together."
"I'm still in one piece," Amaimon muttered. He didn't like to admit it—especially because it had made him wipe out in front of Okumura Rin—but maybe it was a good thing that his body hadn't been able to keep up with his powers. His brothers' lab didn't exist anymore, and it would be difficult finding a suitable replacement host. "Hey, but things are changing, y'know? I can smell it." In the air, there was an unmistakable stench of demons, and they were coming out in masse. Faintly beneath that, there was the scent of home.
Of Gehenna.
He still didn't bother to look away from his game, but Mephisto's nose did crinkle. "Yes, you're right. I'm certain that the Order will call on me to do something about it, but even I can only do so much. Of course, it's entertaining either way, but I do loathe the thought that he's managed to get a one-up on us."
Whereas Amaimon had no qualms about letting his demonic aspects out, Mephisto had restrained himself over the centuries since he'd aligned with the Knights of the True Cross—that was why it was so startling to hear the shift in his voice, reaching closer to a deep growl in his otherwise human looking form. Considering that the topic was their eldest brother, though, that much was to be expected.
Remembering the fragile (if not slowly healing) state of his own body, Amaimon decided to leave that minefield be. "So now what?"
"Hm?" Mephisto's tone shifted back to jovial in an instant—back to sounding like he was the only one who knew the punchline of the joke. In the glow of the television screen, his grin widened to show off his teeth. "Well Okumura-kun will be busy with his homework for a while, and I'll likely be helping the Order deal with this mess, so it's looking like my schedule will be rather packed."
The idea of the King of Time having a packed schedule was ridiculous, but Amaimon's mind was too busy racing to point it out. Sure, it pissed him off that he wouldn't be able to fight Okumura Rin again and prove his worth as a warrior, it was more concerning that Mephisto would be going to assist the Order. There wasn't a place for Amaimon there, so the only option would be—
Back into that darkness.
As one of the Princes of Hell, a little bit of dark and pain wasn't enough to unnerve Amaimon. What got to him was how it stretched on forever, how boring it was. Amaimon would have gladly taken on hours of agony if it happened in anywhere else but that absolute isolation, cut away from the rest of both Assiah and Gehenna, his own personal torture chamber.
Mephisto had chosen that punishment knowingly.
I don't know how to make Aniue happy anymore.
As demons, their ideas of happiness and family were beyond skewed. But there had been a time, long, long ago, where Mephisto hadn't been like that. Considering how long ago it had been, maybe Mephisto had forgot, but Amaimon hadn't. Amaimon couldn't, Amaimon wished—
There was a snort at his side, and Amaimon realized there was another presence in the room. Behemoth had been lying beside him the whole time, and the Hobgoblin let out a snore as he rolled over onto his side, the yellow of his hide looking almost sickly in the dimness. It completely slipped Amaimon's mind that he'd been upset with his pet for acting subservient to that girl—his niece.
Letting out an exhale of his own, Amaimon sat himself up. If he was going to go back to confinement soon, then he wasn't about to waste what little time he had with free motion. He'd recovered enough that his still recovering body didn't feel like anything out of the ordinary, and the shifting air over his skin reminded him of how he'd torn up his clothes in his transformation. He taste of blood—unsatisfying because it was his own, and not someone else's—still coated his tongue.
He was tired of it.
Amaimon shoved his hands into his pockets, seeing if any snacks were still there, but none seemed to have survived the last two fights he'd been in. Sure, Mephisto probably had some sort of treats lying around, but rummaging through his brother's things wasn't a smart move, either. Without anything else to distract him, Amaimon bit down on his thumbnail hard enough for it to creak.
And then a thought occurred to him, one that he deemed safe enough to say out loud:
"When can I see Ayane again?"
[Author's Notes]
Hello again, folks! We're back at it again with some dating demon king shenanigans. This chapter had a lot of fun scenes to write in it, so I really enjoyed the process. I'm hoping it was just as enjoyable to read for you all!
My most heartfelt thanks go out to Searece, Celeste D. Lilica, Black Moons Daughter, and nerostar12 for their favorites, follows, and reviews! I'm super honored to have your support, so I hope you'll continue to give it to me as the story continues. I really do love hearing your thoughts; it's a ton of fun to get a glimpse at how you guys view this fic, so I'll always enjoy reading whatever you send to me!
If you're not familiar with the term, chuunibyou roughly translates as "middle school second year syndrome," and refers to people who act in a matter or believe they have some special powers even if they're ordinary - AKA that stupid phase you have when you're an early teenager. It's honestly one of my favorite tropes, and I can't get over the idea of Ayane's group thinking that Amaimon is one (even though he's very much a literal demon). The question is what'll happen when they realize it's not a joke...
The last scene in this chapter was also a challenge, but I like the result. Writing these demon kings in character is beyond tricky...
I really want to thank you all for your patience in my writing this fic and the somewhat wonky updating schedule. But there will be another chapter coming to you in a few months, so I sincerely hope you'll look forward to it!
-Avi
[05.20.2019]
NEXT TIME:
"Mocha-chan, do you really just plan to keep staring this whole time?"
"Rin-chan's been getting antsy since you guys haven't hung out lately."
"Let's see, if we go for beef as the main protein…"
"Oh, hey, I managed to catch you, Fukui."
"I have the chance to go out again, so let's go together."
"So, do tell me, Okumura Rin, just why Whiskey-chan's nowhere in sight?!"
"Are you saying we should just let Amaimon wonder around with that Senpai whenever the hell he feels like it?"
"I figured you were gonna get like this, so I went ahead and got something that will ease your worries."
