The next morning, Emi woke early, right alongside Maou, who had one more long day of work before his half day. It was rough for him to rise early and work so late, but his bank account had never been happier, thanks to Kisaki's generosity, and the helping hand he'd been given by his co-workers.

"You're up early for someone who doesn't have to go to work," Maou said, pouring coffee for both himself and Emi.

"Couldn't sleep," Emi said shortly, "I'm gonna go back to bed after I check the mail and whatnot."

"Expecting something?"

"Bills," Emi muttered darkly, taking a sip of her coffee and letting its heat flow through her.

Maou took a large drink of his own coffee, keeping a sharp eye upon Emi, whose demeanor had him worried. Was she still upset about Ashiya and Rika?

"Anyway, I'm gonna make some breakfast, shower, and then I'm pretty much out the door for work," Maou sighed, looking at the clock as it counted down the minutes of free time he had left, "you want anything?"

"No, I'll probably just eat later."

"You sure? Considering you didn't enjoy your dinner for more than a few hours before it came back up, I thought you'd be starving," Maou said.

"No, I'll be fine… but do you think you could bring me back some MgRonalds for dinner tonight," Emi asked suddenly.

"Sure, what do you want?"

Maou, who'd been an employee of the fast food franchise for over two years at that point, had not only memorized the menu, but the prices of the meals. He could provide the exact pricing, along with any deals or promotions that might've been going on.

"Hang on, that seems a bit much," Emi said when Maou recounted her order back to her perfectly.

"Nope, that's the right price," Maou said, sure he hadn't made an error.

"But what about your discount? You know, the one you get for working there," Emi said, "can't you just use that and sort of…."

"You want me to use my employee discount, the one that I usually use for my own meals, so you can save a few yen?"

"Well, you don't have to sound so mean about it," Emi grumbled, as she played with her hair, "I mean, I don't know how it works, I've never worked in the fast food industry."

"Fine, fine, I'll use my discount… but you owe me one."

"Thank you," Emi said sweetly, smiling as if she'd guilt tripped Maou on purpose, which she very well might've.

Maou, true to his word, ate his breakfast, showered, and had prepared for work in a manner of minutes. Emi, to his surprise, was hard at work at the stove when Maou crossed through the kitchen to get to the front door.

"Changed your mind," Maou asked, sniffing the air and feeling as though we was already getting hungry again.

"I thought I'd make you some lunch… I figure eating MgRonalds all the time probably isn't the healthiest thing for you," Emi said, throwing her hair over her shoulder and she leaned upon one leg, stirring up a chicken based broth with rice, chicken, and a hearty helping of sliced radish and onion.

"Wow, that smells amazing," Maou commented, his nose leading him closer and closer to the stove, where he came up behind Emi and leaned over her to inhale the fumes of cooking food. Emi gripped the stove, red in the face as Maou pressed himself against her in a carefree manner, his eyes closed as he got as close as possible to the sizzling pan.

"Uh, Maou?"

"Hmm?"

He opened his eyes, and suddenly became very aware of the fact that he was pressed quite thoroughly against the Hero, who was still wearing only her pajama shirt and underwear. Maou, slow as ever on the uptake, looked between Emi, the stove, and his own body, stunned at the rather embarrassed and vulnerable look on Emi's face. Her lips were parted slightly, and she looked as though she was torn between telling Maou off, and enjoying his body pressed against hers.

"Emi," Maou said suddenly, his breath hot and minty from having brushed his teeth moments ago.

She felt a pang in her chest as her heart reacted to Maou's quiet voice, and she felt a shiver pass through her as she felt herself drawn towards him.

"Yeah?"

"Your shirt's on fire."

Emi looked down, noticing that Maou was right: flickering flames had indeed began to burn on her shirt, which had been hanging over the burner while Maou had squished Emi against the stove.

A moment of senseless panic overwhelmed Emi. She could fight a Devil, she could fight fallen angels and Demon Generals, and she could lead entire armies of men in a conquest against the race of demons… but when it came to being on fire, she reacted much the same as any other human would.

"SHIT!"

Maou, cool as a cucumber, snapped his fingers, and a cup flew from the cupboard at supersonic speeds. He caught it and held it beneath the faucet for a few moments while Emi danced it a circle, holding the shirt away from her and cussing loudly as she tried to put the fire out by shaking the fabric.

"Dammit Maou, help me!"

"On it!"

Without further ado, Maou waited for Emi to turn in his direction before casually tossing the water from the cup onto Emi's shirt.

"You just had to use the big cup, didn't you," Emi asked, lifting her sopping wet hair from her face and flipping it back over her head.

"Well-uh-I didn't-want you to catch on fire," Maou stammered, looking away from Emi, who wondered what his deal was.

"Now what's your…EEEK!"

Emi, who'd been about to ask Maou what his malfunction was, realized the issue when Maou pointed at her chest, his other hand covering his eyes.

Emi, like most women, slept without a bra, and Emi's pajama shirt, while large and comfortable, was also white. This meant that when Maou had thrown water on it, it had become see through, giving the Devil a clear view of Emi's body. After realizing Maou's mistake, Emi covered herself and ran away, slipping and sliding over the wet vinyl flooring in the kitchen before slamming the door to her room shut. Maou peaked through his fingers, realizing Emi had gone, and that the pan on the stove would surely char if left unattended.

"That's what happens when I try to be nice," Emi sighed to herself, walking purposefully across the kitchen before using her hips to push Maou out of the way and resume her stirring.

Maou, for the second time, found himself drawn toward the stove, but now he realized it was less about Emi's cooking ability and more about the woman herself. She still only wore a shirt, and the new one, while darker in color, also happened to be a bit shorter. Maou found himself staring for a moment before he looked away, wondering how the Hero could be so indecent in his company.

"Alright," Emi said finally, "it's done!"

She packaged it nicely in a tupperware container and threw it into a bag for Maou, along with utensils, a napkin, and a soda. She held it out for Maou to take, tilting her head when she noticed how his eyes were fixed upon her in a strange manner. He wasn't staring at her body, per se, he was looking at her as if she were an enigma, and he wanted to know more.

"Here," Emi said, shaking the bag a little and snapping Maou from his stupor.

"Oh, right… shit, I'm gonna be late for work!"

"You're welcome," Emi said loudly, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes as Maou bolted for the door.

Maou froze for a second with his hand on the doorknob before he headed back into the kitchen and wrapped Emi in a one armed hug.

"Thanks for the grub," Maou said quickly, "I'll see you after work."

Emi, whose mind had gone rather blank, just stood there and took the hug.

"Uh, yeah," she muttered, "stay safe, and have a good day. See you after work."

As fast as Maou had enfolded her in his arms, so too had he escaped from the apartment, leaving Emi alone once again as she sat at the table by herself. So many thoughts were swirling in her head, it was hard to think straight. Finally, she smiled, preparing another pot of coffee and readying herself for a long, lazy day by herself.

She went to her room and dug in the closet, her mind still churning and turning as she considered Maou, and his apparent lack of hostility for the Hero. It all lined up with his words, and the idea that he wanted peace between their races, but that didn't extend to hugs, and certainly not kisses.

"I wanna see you more often," Maou's voice echoed from within Emi's mind, "I want to see you whenever I can. I can't explain it, but something about you makes me feel like I'm a Demon King again."

Something told Emi that he wasn't telling the whole truth in that statement, either.

She sighed, frowning as she pulled a small chest from within the confines of her closet, setting it down upon the bed and holding a hand over it as her magic flowed through her arm and out of her fingertips.

"Open," she muttered in Centruvian.

The chest clicked open, and from within the chest, Emi pulled a book. It was old and leather-bound; one of her father's first attempts at bookbinding. It smelled incredibly old and musty, but Emi found that trace scents of home clung to the book as she opened it and turned through its pages.

First, she found pages wherein she and her father had practiced writing. Emi was young, and the skill was not nearly as widespread in Ente Isla as it was on Earth, but her father had taught her anyway. After a few pages, she came upon journal entries, and she skimmed through the book's contents until she arrived at the very last entry, dated almost a year ago, and written in poorly formed Japanese script.

Dear Journal,

I've been trapped on this planet for some time now, and I've taken the name Emi Yusa. My magic, sadly, isn't replenishing like it used to in Ente Isla, so I've taken to living here like a normal human. How this world existed here without the knowledge of Ente Isla's greatest scholars and magicians is beyond me, but I suppose it's bound to happen. Did the angels know about this world? Did the demons? I followed the Devil through the gate, but I haven't found him yet. There's an entire world, but I'm hoping he showed up somewhere close by so I can exact my revenge, and purge the humans of their greatest enemy.

Not sure when I'll write again, work has been keeping me so busy… I thought leading an army was tough, but these customer service representatives have it worse!

That's all I have for the moment, so farewell.

Emi Yusa

P.S. I need to work on my kanji.

Emi smiled, thinking back on how hard acclimatizing had been, even with the use of her magic. She looked around for a writing utensil, but to her disappointment, she found only an angel feather pen, the one her mother had given to Emerada, whom had finally given it to her. Emi, took the quill, and she felt a strange power emanate from it. Emi looked at it with uncertainty before she shrugged and put the pen to the page. To her surprise, when she pulled the nib across the page, she found that it wrote in a luminous lilac script, but upon closer inspection, the nib was completely dry. It seemed that the magic it used to open gates was not the pens only notable function.

After a few moments of thought, Emi put the pen to paper once more, and without pause, she carved out her last two years of frustration, anxiety, and confusion, cramming it all into a few sentences and trying to make it sound as though she were still fine.

Dear Journal,

Been a while, hasn't it? Almost two full years, in fact, and I still haven't come any closer to my previous goal of destroying the Demon King. For all the time I've known him, he seems to genuinely regret all that he's done to the humans in the past, and he seeks to change his ways and make peace between demons and humans.

Not that it would be so simple. The humans of Ente Isla are vindictive, and I'm still not entirely sure demons and humans can coexist.

On another note, a lot of things have been happening recently. Sariel came here to recover the Holy Sword, but Maou and I drove him off. Lucifer, as it turns out, is still alive, and even more of a little bastard than before. Crestia Bell, a Bailiff of the Inquisition, came here to earth as well, but she joined us, and helped stop Sariel. Since then, we've had a sort of family here, for lack of a better word. We fight, we accuse, and we all go to work to pay our bills, but come the weekend, we're just as glad to see each other as we were the last time.

Unfortunately, there hasn't been much time for simple, quiet weekends recently. Two fallen angels, a plethora of bad dreams, and even another Demon King have arisen. All were taken care of, and there were no human casualties, but the fact remains that we haven't been able to prevent everyone from getting hurt.

Rika Suzuki, a good friend from work, has unfortunately gotten caught up in the affairs of our world. She knows of my identity, she knows of those abhorrent demons living by Suzuno, and she experienced trauma the likes of which I can't even fathom at the hands of a demon. By all rights, I should hate demons now more than ever. I should want to obliterate them, and send their severed heads to the Demon Army on a platter, but I picture Maou's face and it stops me.

I remember, through a thick haze of alcohol poisoning, the pained look on Maou's face when he learned of Rika's ordeal. I saw the anger in his eyes as he scribbled an order of execution, and tossed it into a gate behind the banished Succubus. Then I saw how low the Demon King fell afterwards, drowning his guilt and his shame in overpriced sake, and greasy pizza. I think about how Rika's condition seemed to affect him and Ashiya more than it affected me, and I can't help but stay my blade. The anger I feel turns to guilt as I try to muster up some feelings for Rika, but in the end, I'm just so paralyzed by the thought of seeing her that I almost don't want to visit her tomorrow! I know that's stupid, but I haven't seen her since she visited me to invite me to the party, and I haven't really figured out how to broach the subject in regards to me being the Hero from another world.

Will she hate me, or be afraid of me? I don't want her to be, and I don't want her to suffer from the memories of her enslavement to Asmodeus, but if that's her choice, then who am I to disrespect it?

Whatever happens, I want her to be happy. I want us all to be happy.

I'll try to write more often,

Emi Yusa

The Hero looked over the page carefully before sighing and laying down the quill, and in the moment she released her grip upon it, it sparked and fluttered, and if it had suddenly been set alight. Before Emi's eyes, the quill, and the page of her journal she'd been writing on, both vanished into a portal, leaving Emi stunned, and somewhat infuriated as she thought about how carefully she'd written her Kanji in the beautiful, glowing ink.

Meanwhile, in Ente Isla, Emerada Etuva was resting in her study, munching on a pastry that was so drenched in sticky icing that she had trouble eating it before it dripped onto her very important paperwork. She groaned and angrily stuffed the rest of the confection into her mouth before licking her fingertips and trying to once more focus on the reports laid out before her. Recovery efforts were well underway, but the fact remained that war was not something so easily erased from the land, nor the minds of its denizens. There were miscellaneous bands of demons who'd been ravaging the continents ever since the Demon King had vanished, and while the bulk of Satan's armies had retreated to parts unknown as well, the roving demon bands in question were quiet formidable, and much harder to eradicate because of their smaller numbers, and their ability to withdraw much more quickly than an army.

Emerada sighed, turning her head as the door to her study opened, revealing Alberto, who'd been tasked with retrieving more books from the library. The sorceress could've done it herself, but she found that the librarian always glowered at her in an unkind manner. It wasn't Emerada's fault that she lost track of all the books she borrowed, and the ones that were returned were usually damaged in some way.

"Did Mistress Sofia give you any troubllllllle," Emerada asked tiredly in Ente Islan, taking a sip from a fine golden goblet filled with honeysuckle wine.

Mistress Sofia was the glowering old bat who controlled the Royal Archives of the Holy Saint Aire Empire, which resided upon the western continent of Ente Isla. Alberto shrugged, knowing that if he spoke the truth about his encounter with the rather spiteful old librarian, Emerada would probably storm down there and teach her a lesson.

"Only that she wishes you to bear in mind her warnings, and take greater care with her tomes," Alberto said, also speaking in Ente Islan, in a dialect native to the Holy Saint Aire Empire.

"Tch," Emerada scoffed, keeping her dislike of the Mistress Sofia to herself as she stood and walked over to Alberto, surveying the volumes he'd brought.

Alberto was a strong man from the northern continent, which was mostly snow and ice. As a result, he was hardy, and far stronger than most people, though his magic was a bit simpler than most others. Still, he made up for it with determination, inborn tactical analysis, and swordsmanship that rivaled the skills of the Hero herself.

"You doooolt," Emerada said suddenly, making Alberto jump as Emerada kicked him in the shin, "I tooold you to bring me 'Master Einroth's Compendium of Alchemical Fomulae: Volumes 1-16!' Volumes three, four, eight, twelve, and fifteen and all missiiiing!"

Far from her usual, lax self, Emerada seemed seriously irate as she stood on her tiptoes to scowl at Alberto, who, while easily twice the woman's size, still cowered away from her. Her eyes, which were usually half closed due to sleep deprivation, were now fully opened, and she looked borderline depraved as she stabbed a finger into his chest, reaching up as high as she could just to do so.

"You listen to me, Albertooo! And you listen goood!"

She looked as though she might cast a spell upon him for a moment, but then she hiccupped. She blushed and covered her mouth, and Alberto kept his face as straight as possible, thinking of the saddest things he could imagine so as to keep from laughing.

"As I was trying to-hic-say, you need to-hic-do exactly as I-hic-saaayy," Emerada said, her anger dissolving as she began to giggle slightly, the sound of her own voice driving her into a fit.

"Ahehehe," she chuckled, hiccupping once more as she clung to Alberto for support, who was still leaning back against the table as the small sorceress laughed. She beat a hand against his chest, laughing into his shirt as she hiccupped some more, finding it difficult to draw breath as she struggled to remain upright.

"Ahah….hahaha," Alberto laughed as well, trying not to insult the sorceress as he patted her back gently to ease her hiccups.

"Hmhmhmmm, silly Albertooo," Emerada said, burying her face in his abdomen as Alberto giggled slightly.

Emerada, who'd been working on draining several goblets of wine throughout the day, was quite saturated. Alberto could hardly blame her, as she had been appointed as one of the driving forces behind the eradication of the demons in Ente Isla, and the Emperor of the Holy Saint Aire Empire was not pleased by her progress.

When it came down to it, the Hero had vanished, leaving a battered world to contend with, and Emerada was pulled from her study of magic to usher in change with frightening regularity. It was no wonder she was so stressed.

"Mmmmmm," Emerada groaned, hugging onto Alberto as if her life depended upon him.

He was her pillar, her support, and she leaned upon him heavily as he became very still. His scent was intoxicating to the sorceress as she breathed deeply, and she was almost tempted to fall asleep, hanging from him like a sloth from a tree. Emerada looked up at Alberto and smiled at him, her cheeks touched with red as she hiccupped once more.

"Sorryyy for losing my temper with yoouuu," she said quietly.

"Er, it is no problem," Alberto said, noting how her arms were fastened about his waist with frightening strength. Alberto stood straight, and Emerada's bare feet left the floor, but still she looked at him, smiling like the cat that ate the canary, her breath as sickly sweet as the honeysuckle wine that pumped through her veins.

The white haired man stared down into the pale cyan eyes of the sorceress, which sparkled with an intensity Alberto had never seen in them before. The atmosphere in the room was so thick you'd need a Holy Sword to cut it, and it lingered for a moment before Emerada's eyes refocused, and she looked around worriedly.

Alberto thought she suddenly realized what a provocative position they were in, but then he felt something as well, as if powerful holy magic were materializing somewhere nearby, and with the sound of a hurricane, a gate appeared in the center of the room. It was tiny, not even large enough for Emerada to fit through, but from within it, fluttering along like a leaf upon the wind, was a piece of paper that glittered with mesmerizing lilac symbols, and an angel feather pen. Emerada probed at the paper mentally, and while she felt a strange power radiate from it, she found it was not offensive, or harmful in any way. Still, she approached it with caution, and looked down upon it with familiarity as she recalled learning about the language through an Idea Link with the Hero, the last time she'd visited the other world.

"A letter," Alberto asked, reading the script as best he could from over Emerada's shoulder.

"A journal entry," Emerada surmised, squinting at the kanji as she tried to decipher it more clearly.

After a few moments of reading, Emerada's eyes widened, and she turned to look at Alberto sadly.

"It seems the Hero has had some troubling adversaries in the other world," Emerada said, passing the paper to Alberto so that he could read it, "we should pay her a visit and make sure she is alright."

"But what of the reports," Alberto asked, looking at Emerada's desk, which was still piled high with parchment, "and what of the books?"

"Both can wait, we won't be long," Emerada said, sitting down in her armchair by the fireplace and pulling her boots on, all the way up her slender legs until they finally hit her thighs.

Alberto, ever the gentleman, looked away as Emerada lifted her other leg, paying no mind to the fact that her rather revealing pantaloons were riding ever higher.

Finally she fastened on her cloak, which hung loosely about her shoulders, and donned her satin cap, adorned as it was by the colors of her nation. Both her cap and her cloak were slightly askew, but Alberto quickly fixed these discrepancies, taking a knee before the sorceress as he worked the wrinkles from her collar and straightened her cap and cloak.

"You're so good to me, Albertooo," Emerada said, smiling at the man, and watching for his reaction. He smiled as well, his eyes flickering to meet hers for a second before he frowned once more and finally stood, looking unsure as Emerada hiccupped again.

"Perhaps I should open the gate," Alberto asked as Emerada raised her hands, narrowing her eyes as she sought to remember the spell.

"Nonsense," Emerada muttered, "I'm the Court Magician! If I couldn't open a gate to another world while a little-hic- tipsyyy-"

The gate sprang to life with the sound of reality tearing asunder, and Emerada placed her fists upon her hips in triumph.

"-what sort of Court Magician would I be?"

Alberto looked at the sorceress once more, watching as she cracked her fingers, looking as if she'd only lit a candle or pushed in the chair to her desk. Not for the first time, he questioned how she had become so powerful. Before he could ponder it for too long, however, she had grabbed his hand and lead him forward, walking right into the gate as their feet left the ground. She turned to smile at him, and Alberto felt his heart skip a beat before he remembered something.

"I forgot to grab a sick bag," he cried as the gate slammed shut behind them.

"I brought one for yoouuu," Emerada said, happily.

And with that, the both of them vanished from the face of Ente Isla.

Emi heard a knock upon her door. She sat up from the couch, feeling rather torn as she stared at the sun, which looked as though it would be setting soon. Whoever was visiting was doing so during daylight hours, but the fact remained that it appeared to be almost dinner time, which was generally considered rude. She thought about rolling back over and going back to sleep, but this time the knock was louder. It was clear that whoever was at the door wouldn't be going away any time soon.

She crept to the front of her condo as quietly as she could, hearing a squabble of some kind or another on the other side of the door.

"Lift me uuuup-hic," said a voice, speaking a language that was most definitely not Japanese.

Emi peered through the peep hole, only to have her view obscured by a single, large blue-green eye.

"Do you see anything," asked a deeper male voice.

"Noooo-hic," answered the drawling female one.

The eye pulled away from the peep hole, and Emi could suddenly see Emerada, who had fallen back into Alberto's arms, as he had lifted her from the floor so she could look into the hole.

"Perhaps she's at work," Alberto reasoned.

He stood there, holding Emerada as though she weighed nothing, and she leaned against him, smiling so peacefully that Emi, for the briefest of moments, thought they might never disconnect. She flung upon the door, catching them by surprise, and the both of them suddenly became red faced. Emerada lost her balance, and Alberto failed to catch her, dropping the sorceress to the floor, where she laid groaning.

"Emilia," Alberto said, looking this way and that as he refused to meet the Hero's eyes.

"Alberto," Emi said, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms as she smirked at the tall, silver haired warrior.

"Could you-hic-help me uuuup," Emerada said quietly, still face down on the floor.

Emi looked at Alberto, and he gingerly helped the small sorceress to her feet, doing his best to keep any contact between them superficial as he brushed her off and straightened her cloak and cap.

"So," Emi said, very aware of the smaller woman's hiccups, and the smell of alcohol wafting from her.

"So," Emerada said, swaying upon the spot and rubbing her nose, which had struck the carpet rather hard.

Emi invited in her old comrades and set them upon the loveseat, grinning smugly as they both made very sure they weren't touching in any way. It was rather difficult for Alberto, as he was so large and muscular, but he managed to squish himself against the arm of the loveseat and look rather nonchalant about it.

"Here you go," Emi said, returning from the kitchen with steaming mugs of tea, "it's not the best, or the sweetest, but it should help you avoid a hangover."

Emerada pouted at Emi.

"How could you-hic- teeell I was druuuunk?"

"I can smell the alcohol… honey mead," Emi asked.

"Honeysuckle wine," Emerada answered, crossing her legs and breathing in the scent of tea.

"Could I use your bathroom," Alberto asked.

"Down the hall, can miss it," Emi said, her eyes lit up with a mischievous twinkle that made him uncomfortable as he made his escape.

Emerada kicked her foot in a bored manner, looking around as she waited for Emi to speak.

"So, you and Alberto, huh?"

"Wha-hic-no-hic-I mean we're strictlyyyy-hic-work partnerrrrs," Emerada said, her face red as she whispered to the Hero.

Emi felt a sense of sadness clench in her stomach. Even before they'd fought the Demon King, Emerada and Emi had been very good friends, and Emi knew that the sorceress was lonely. She spent so much time with her research and her spells, however, that going out and searching for companionship was hardly an option. When they'd met Alberto, Emi had watched Emerada's eyes trace every muscle and vein on his body, and the small woman's knees had very nearly knocked together. Emi had been sure that after all was said and done, Emerada and Alberto might be able to find something in each other… it seemed she was mistaken.

Emerada rubbed her legs together, looking embarrassed about something as she turned her head to look at the empty hallway Alberto had gone down. She looked at Emi again and whispered so quietly that Emi almost missed her words.

"I really like him, Emi," Emerada said.

"I'm back," Alberto announced, making Emerada jump so hard she accidentally slopped scalding hot tea on her legs.

"Hot, hot, hot, hoooot," Emerada yelped, kicking off her boots as fast as possible and racing into the guest room, Emi in hot pursuit with an icepack she'd retrieved from the freezer.

Alberto shook his head, sitting down on the loveseat before he noticed Emerada's long white boots were soaked with tea, and unless he acted soon, they would surely stain.

In the guest room, with Emi and Emerada, Emi was digging through the closet, which was filled with the Devil's clothes as the sorceress covered herself with a blanket, keeping the ice pack firmly pressed against her skin, which was now red and sore.

"I don't think Maou will mind if you borrows a pair of his shorts," Emi said, picking up a pair that was a bit to short for him, anyway.

"Those are the Devil's clothes," Emereda asked, "why are they in yoouuur closet."

"He's been staying here," Emi said, deciding to simply tell the truth, "his house was… well, it wasn't burnt down, but it's been cordoned off by the Fire Commissioner."

"That wasn't in your journal entry."

"My what," Emi asked sharply, tossing the shorts to her friend.

From within the folds of her cloak, Emerada pulled a piece of paper. It was parchment paper, most commonly found in Ente Isla, and written upon it, in glittering lilac kanji, was Emi's journal entry from a few hours ago.

"That explains the visit," Emi said, "and here I was hoping you wanted me to help you get with Alberto."

"Wha-why would you think something… like thaaaat," Emerada asked, not looking Emi in the eye as her face flushed even more, clashing violently with her blue-green hair.

"I've seen the way you look at him," Emi sighed, taking a seat on the bed and looking beneath the ice pack to determine the severity of her friend's burn, "you do like the guy, don't you?"

"Well, he is extremely thoughtful, and helpful, and caring," Emerada reasoned, "and he's so strooong, and so brave… and the way he smells is just sooo niiiice."

"Oh yeah," Emi said, poking Emerada in the ribcage, "you love the guy, don't you? Admit it!"

"Well, he's certainly not bad looking…"

"Can you stop being so damn logical and calculating for once? Alberto's a human, not some experiment you can pick apart," Emi laughed, causing Emerada to rub the back of her head and smile.

"I suppose you're right. You always were better at dealing with people than I was," the sorceress admitted.

Emi's face fell for a moment, and once again she thought of Maou, and how he'd been so… strange? Was that the right word? She was sure there was a better one for his behavior, but at the moment, she couldn't think of it. She snapped out of her stupor only to notice Emerada looking at her concernedly, her eyes narrowed, though not because of her sleepiness.

"You ok, Em," Emerada asked.

"Fine," Emi replied, "just stretched a little thin, I guess."

"I'll second that," Emerada sighed, leaning her head against Emi's shoulder, much like they used to do when they'd sat around the camp fire, during their great campaign to rid the world of the Demon King.

Once it was determined that Emerada's legs were not in need of serious medical attention, she managed to slip into the shorts that were too small for Maou. She looked odd, in her Saint Aire Empire Court Magician's uniform, though instead of her short pantaloons, she wore modern day shorts.

"These feel sooo constrictiiiing," Emerada sighed, walking funny to alleviate the pain in her legs.

"Do you want me to heal your burns," Emi asked, escorting her friend out into the strangely empty living room.

"Hold on, where are my boots," Emerada asked.

From within the kitchen, the sound of running water could be heard. With Emerada's arm still slung over her shoulder, Emi hobbled them both over to the doorway, and they found Alberto at the sink, carefully scrubbing the stain out of Emerada's fine thigh-high boots with a toothbrush that Emi knew belonged to the Devil.

"You see," Emerada whispered, "he's just so… thoughtful."

Alberto was alerted to the presence of the women by their fits of stifled giggling. The tall, dark skinned man blushed before resuming his steady scrubbing. After a few minutes, the stains were gone, though the thick soles of the boots were still coated with dust and bits of mud, so he scrubbed them completely clean, with Emi and Emerada still watching him.

"I hope it's ok that I used this toothbrush to clean Emerada's boots," Alberto said.

"It was the Devil's toothbrush," Emi said gleefully, "he'll just have to buy a new one!"

Emi and Emerada made their way back to the loveseat where they sat together for a moment before Emerada leaned in close, whispering once more.

"How do I ask someone like that if they'd like to be more than friends? I mean, what if he said yes just because I'm technically his superior," Emerada asked.

"Listen, you just have to grit your teeth and make yourself as clear as possible," Emi replied quietly, listening carefully for the sound of Alberto's return.

"But… what will the people of the court saaay," the sorceress fretted, her hands on her cheeks, "what will they thiiink?"

"I didn't want to be the one to have to tell you this, Eme," Emi said, "but people were already talking when we set out to fight the Devil. They made it sound like you were his mistress or something…"

"R-really? People were saying thaaat?"

"W-well, I mean, not quite so seriously," Emi said reassuringly, "but I know for a fact people thought you two had a thing. I was one of them, to be honest."

"You thought me and Alberto were-"

"Together," Emi said, "yeah. Of course, I figured it was just hearsay… and I know how lonely you get, stuck up in your tower all day. I just wanted you to be happy."

"Well theeen…"

The thought seemed to flatten Emerada like a freight train. Her main reason for stalling, the real reason she hadn't asked Alberto how he felt, was suddenly removed. Her only obstacle now was herself. The sorceress looked down at her legs, which were still a little sore from the scalding hot tea she'd spilt, but finally she stood from the loveseat, without Emi's assistance, and she walked towards the kitchen. Emi had the feeling that Emerada had used her magic to burn away some of the alcohol that was muddling her thoughts, because there was a fierce determination in the short woman's eyes.

Emerada walked into the kitchen in pained, yet purposeful strides, leaving Emi to sit in the living room, wondering what was going on.

A part of Emi wanted to hide just around the corner and listen in, because Emerada and Alberto were both talking very quietly. Instead, she waited impatiently for Emerada to return, a smile on her face and blush on her cheeks as she gave Emi the thumbs up.

No such luck.

Emi made for the kitchen, walking normally, so anyone within might hear her coming, and finally she came upon the scene and felt her heart skip a beat. Standing in the middle of the kitchen, their arms wrapped around each other as they kissed passionately, was Emerada and Alberto. They completely ignored Emi, who watched them for a moment before clearing her throat loudly and causing them to break apart.

Alberto looked fearful, and he made to pull away from Emerada, as if they'd been caught doing something wrong. Emerada, however, had her arms still hooked around Alberto's neck, and pulled him closer to her before smiling at Emi.

"I'm so happy for you guys," Emi said finally, rushing forward and hugging the both of them.

Emi had lead an army with both of these people, and when you're facing certain death, you tend to become attached to your comrades. After the Demon King fled to another world, and victory for the humans was assured, Emi could only hope for one thing, beyond the survival of her friends, and that was for them to be happy.

"I thought you'd be furious," Alberto said, speaking to Emi, "I knew how much you cared for Emerada… I thought you might cut off my head!"

"Nonsense," Emi said, flicking away a tear that fell from her eye, "you make her happy! That said…"

Better Half appeared in Emi's hand, and she twirled the Holy Sword menacingly, still smiling at Alberto.

"…hurt her and I swear you'll regret it."

"Yes ma'am," Alberto said, laughing nervously as Emerada rolled her eyes at Emi, who invited her companions to join her in the living room once again.

This time, there was much more room on the loveseat, for Emerada simply sat in Alberto's lap, looking perfectly at home perched upon his knees. Alberto didn't meet Emi's eyes, but the Hero could sense his embarrassment.

"So, what brings you guys here," Emi asked the new couple, "I assume there's something more than just my journal entry to thank for your sudden, unexpected appearance."

"Well, in all honesty, Emilia, the fact is I was pretty buzzed when I read your diary entry," Emerada admitted with a grin, "I thought there was something I could help you with!"

"Journal," Emi said quickly, blushing slightly.

"Come again?"

"It's a journal, not a diary. I'm not a little girl," Emi said quietly, looking embarrassed.

"You're still younger than I am," Emerada teased, "but in truth, there was no real reason for our visit… though I suppose I definitely needed the time away from my tower. I don't think I left my study in weeks."

"Thirty seven days," Alberto said, "that's how long you were in there."

"Wha-really? Why didn't you tell me?"

"You were busy working," Alberto shrugged, "if you were messing around, I might've felt the need to bother you, but you were doing your job quite well, so I remained silent."

"See what I mean, Emi," Emerada asked, leaning back against Alberto's chest and purring like a kitten, "he's just sooo thoughtful."

"Geez, do you two need a room," Emi wondered, rolling her eyes, "I mean, I get that you only just started the relationship, but you don't have to play grab ass in my living room, you know?"

"Hehe, sooorry, Emiiii," Emerada giggled.

"Emilia," Alberto said suddenly, "was I correct in hearing you earlier? Did you say that the Devil was living with you?"

"Yeah," Emi sighed, propping her chin on her knees, readying herself for the berating of a lifetime.

"And you two have an alliance of sorts," Alberto asked.

"Yeah," Emi said again, wondering about Alberto's point.

"Hmm."

The northern warrior was silent after that, thinking hard as an uneasy silence filled the living room. Emi flipped on the television, and Emerada and Alberto both jumped at the sound of a newscaster.

"Ignora almighty," Emerada proclaimed, falling from Alberto's knees and onto the floor as she jumped in panic.

"Why does everyone react like that when they first see a TV," Emi asked herself as Emerada picked herself up off of the floor.

The thought made her smile, and Emi didn't realize it at the time, but she was grateful for the company of her old friends. There were times, later in a long shift at work, where she actually wished to go back to Ente Isla, and simply forget about Japan, the Docodemo Customer Service Center, and her idiot boss, so seeing Emerada and Alberto was a breath of fresh air.

Hours passed rather quickly, as they often do whenever one tries to catch up with old friends, and before they could do much more than speak of the intricacies of the world, Earth, Emi found that night had fallen, and Maou would be home any minute. She heard the door open and Emerada and Alberto fell silent, staring quite intently at the hallway, keenly aware of who was down there, due to the demonic magic he radiated.

Maou, however, sensed them, as well. It wasn't hard to notice the visitors, even through the fog of Emi's celestial force. They were like stars next to the sun: smaller, certainly, but still visible.

"Hey, Emi," Maou called, his shoulders tensed as he prepared for an ambush, "I'm back."

"We're back here," Emi said, "Emerada and Alberto decided to visit."

They both shot wide eyed looks at Emi, who was confused by her friends' rather rude behavior. Maou made his way into the living room, trying his best to look nonchalant as his eyes swept over Emerada and Alberto uncaringly.

"Hey, guys," Maou said, "long time no see."

Maou, ever the flatterer, couldn't quite remember the names of Emi's friends, so instead of engaging them one on one, he made to go by them and hit the bathroom, but Emi held out a leg to block his path.

"Where's my food," Emi asked, "I paid for a meal, I want a meal."

"Yeah, yeah," Maou said holding up a hand and focusing his demonic power into his palm. With a burst of red light, a fresh, warm BigMg Combo bag hovered over the Devil's hand. He grabbed it and set it in Emi's lap before moving on, rubbing the back of his head, and cursing how greasy the french fryer made his hair.

"You… paid the Devil… to bring you food… at a quarter after the midnight hour?"

"We work off shifts," Emi explained, "so we stay up later than most people, we wake up later, we eat dinner later… usually I cook, but tonight I wanted something that I didn't have to clean up."

"Why doesn't the Devil cook or clean," Emereda asked, "I thought that Japan was more progressive than Ente Isla?"

"Well, It's about the same in that regard, equality is required, especially by businesses, but as to why Maou doesn't cook-"

A toilet flushed, and Maou came back through the living room, headed to the kitchen.

"I don't cook because I spend most of my time at work," Maou interjected, "where I cook and clean all damned day. You really think I want to come home after work and cook some more? Hell no! I wanna come home and take a load off!"

"You are rather impolite, taking advantage of Emi's hospitality in such a manner," Alberto noted, frowning at the Demon King.

"And you expect a Demon King to be polite," Maou scoffed from the kitchen, digging through the fridge for leftovers, "think again, pal."

Maou took off his shirt and sat on the couch, next to Emi, digging into a cold bowl of the same rice and broth Emi had made earlier. Emerada and Alberto tensed at the sight of the Demon King, but when they noticed how enraptured he was in eating and watching the news, they slowly began to relax.

"Anything important come on," Maou asked through a mouthful of food, "these two didn't cause a ruckus when they came here, did they? I swear if I have to run around and erase memories all night I am gonna flip shit."

"Hey," Emi said, giving Maou a light punch on the arm," talk nice about my friends! They came to visit me, after all."

"Sorry," Maou sighed, "it's just been a long day."

Emerada and Alberto looked closely at the Demon King. His eyes were glazed over with lack of sleep, and he did indeed look like he'd been working all day. There were shadows under his eyes, and he was still covered in a sheen of sweat from riding his bike all the way back to Eifuku from the Hatagaya Station MgRonalds, which was quite the trip.

For a moment, they could hardly believe that this was the Devil, the same one who'd very nearly conquered Ente Isla, but then they saw his dull red eyes as he gazed blankly at the TV, and all they could think about was that night, years ago, in the throne room of the Devil's Castle, when the Devil's gleaming red eyes had been the brightest light in the room.

"Satan Jacob," Emerada asked suddenly.

It took Maou a moment to respond, as his mouth was so full he couldn't speak right away.

"Hmm?"

"Why have you not returned to conquer Ente Isla," the sorceress asked.

The room became unnaturally still, and Maou felt as though he wanted to sigh and clap a hand to his forehead, but he didn't. Instead, he turned his tired gaze to Emerada, who visibly jumped when Maou's red eyes met her own.

"Because I don't want to conquer Ente Isla," Maou said tiredly.

"What's that supposed to mean," Emerada asked.

"Exactly what I said," Maou replied, looking down into his empty bowl with a sad frown. Emi's cooking was always so good, it never seemed to last as long as he would've liked.

The statement hung in the air as Maou stood, washed his bowl out in the kitchen sink, and then made his way back to the bathroom to shower, and wash away the day's labors.

"Did you break his spirit or something," Emerada hissed to Emi.

"Hardly," Emi said quietly, "he just… he has a lot on his mind. We all do, what with all that's happened."

Emerada could hardly believe it. The Terror of Ente Isla, the Devil himself, was preoccupied with mundane human affairs in a world with limited magical resources? He was affected by the same plight as the Hero, and her closest allies? The Devil, lo and behold, had feelings? The thought made Emerada want tolaugh, but it made her think of the countless other demons she'd been hunting down. Most of the roving warbands were weaker demons with no magic whatsoever, simply trying to survive the only way they knew how. From the report she'd received, they had simply been preying upon simple folk, but when her forces managed to dispatch a warband, it was more along the lines of wholesale slaughter, than the vicious battle one would imagine.

'Is it possible that there are more to demons than I thought,' Emerada wondered, making a mental note to grab every book on demonology that Mistress Sofia had on her bookshelves.

"Well, we don't want to intrude upon your hospitality any longer," Emerada said, standing to leave as she heard the shower turn off. Maou left the bathroom, wrapped in nothing but a towel, causing everyone to look in the opposite direction. It was the one thing Maou loved about humans, when he got naked, they all looked the other way, as if nothing was wrong.

"If you like, you could stay the night," Emi said, "I really don't mind. You two can have the guest room."

Maou, who had apparently slipped into his pajamas in record time, walked through the living room to get to the kitchen once more, his water glass in his hand. He stopped for a moment, staring down at the sorceress quite intently with glowing red eyes.

Emerada felt herself frozen on the spot as the Devil's eyes bored into her own. Her knees turned to jelly and her breathing quickened, as did her heartbeat. Even though Alberto was standing right behind her, and he himself stood taller than the Demon King, the power he radiated was still terrifyingly familiar.

"Are those my shorts," Maou asked, turning to frown at Emi.

"Not anymore," Emi said simply, "they were way to small for you, anyway."

"But I liked those shorts," Maou complained, turning to whine at the Hero, "what happened to her pants?"

"They're pantaloons," Emerada stated, "and they got tea spilled on them, that's why Emi gave me these shorts."

Maou sighed before grumbling to himself, pushing past Alberto and Emerada with undisguised grumpiness.

"I really liked those shorts… comfy…don't have much for clothes…"

He came back from the kitchen with a full water glass, still looking immensely downtrodden. With a sad glance at the shorts that had been given away without his permission, the Devil simply slouched back toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms.

"I'm going to bed," Maou said, "night everyone… Emi, don't stay up too late."

"You're not the boss of me," Emi countered.

"Did he just… walk into your bedroom, Emi," Alberto whispered.

"Huh? Oh, uh yeah, I guess he did. He must've vacated the guest room for you guys," Emi lied, "now you have to stay the night! But no funny business!"

"Well, first things first," Emerada said, pulling Alberto closer to her, "what exactly do you define as funny business? I need to know where the line is if I'm not going to cross it… too much."

"You have a dirtier mind than Rika," Emi noted, shaking her head as Alberto was dragged away to Emi's spare bedroom by Emerada, looking at the Hero apologetically as he went.

After making sure her guests were comfortable, Emi returned to her room, only to find Maou lying awake as he stared at the ceiling. He had stuffed copious amounts of tissue into his ears, but he still looked rather disgruntled about something.

"Now what's wrong," Emi asked, wondering if this was Maou's response to Emi giving away his shorts.

"What," Maou asked, pulling a large clump of tissue from his ear, "I can't hear you, Emi."

"I was asking why you stuffed your ears with tissue," Emi asked, getting into bed next to Maou.

"Just listen carefully," Maou said, replugging his ears and then rolling back over, "you'll hear it, too."

Emi waited, listening carefully as her ears adjusted to the silence. A few moments passed, and then…

"Ahehehe."

From the guest room, which was adjacent to Emi's bedroom, came the sound of giggling. It was quiet, and quickly stifled, but the sound was unmistakable as Emi's face turned red. She looked at Maou, but the Devil was lying on his side, facing away from the Hero.

Emi knew then that she was in for a long, uncomfortable night, wherein she and the Devil would be carefully avoiding eye contact and doing their best to remain as far apart as possible on the bed. The same couldn't be said for Emerada and her new consort, however.

Aaaaaand another chapter is out. Thanks to those of you who review the previous chapter, I'm glad so many of you liked Rika and Ashiya together. I wanted to write for a second, and reiterate what I put in my notes on the last chapter, because I feel as though it may have been misconstrued. I wanted Ashiya and Rika together. That was going to happen, that ship has sailed, my concern was primarily the pacing of their relationship... but, it's too late to change it now.

Something else I forgot to mention last time, I finally have a general idea of how the story is going to end... All that's left is filling in the blanks. Not sure about you guys, but I like writing this story, so when I try to gauge when it'll be ending I end up confused. Could be five chapters, could be fifty. You never know.

When I first thought about bringing in Emerada and Alberto, I figured it would be a good time for them to help Emi with whatever great turmoil she was dealing with. I didn't realize I should ship them together until I was typing up the scene and all of the sudden Emerada was hanging from Alberto like he was a jungle gym, giving him the dirty eyes... happy little accidents. Everybody's getting some, aside from Maou and Emi, and Suzuno and Urushihara. Woohoo! The downward spiral into madness continues! Rest assured, I have some action packed chapters coming up, and I think they'll really pluck at your heartstrings. Either that or they'll leave you a sad, drunken mess as you try to recover from side character deaths... oops, have I said too much? Don't worry, it's no one overly important...

The only song I have for you guys to listen to would be...

Devil May Cry-Mako (the Konstantin remix is pretty good as well, I'd recommend both the original and the remix)

Later, Devils.