A/N: …he did it. ê_ê *points to Shiro* I have no idea what went through his mind; he just did it.
I do not own or profit from any of what Kazue Kato has created. Jag tvivlar på att det någonsin kommer att bli ändring på det, heller.
Not bothering with knocking, Shiro pushed the white double doors open and trotted into Mephisto's office. It looked the same as usual: traditional Japanese construction coupled with posh, old European furniture that looked soft but was brick-hard to sit on. And Mephisto sat behind his desk, as usual.
The world didn't care if he was King of Time or plotted gruesome vengeance against an Italian Cardinal. The world minded its own business and let everyone else – demon and human alike – mind theirs. The world is incredibly nonchalant in that sense.
Mephisto's desk had suffered an influx of even more misplaced children's toys since Hello Kitty had made its real break-through. Shiro had seen a headband with the weird little cat when he went to buy food just a few days ago, and had spared a moment to wonder if Mephisto would wear it if he gave it to him.
"Evening, Cuddlebun." The demon looked up from what seemed to be the summaries of the exams so far. "Imprint acting up again, I think."
"Imprint, you say?" There went the lighter: he really should put it in a different pocket. "And here I thought you actually missed me."
Purely out of instinct, Shiro ducked – and a shriek sailed past his head as the wastebasket panda missed its target, hit the backrest of an armchair at an awkward angle, and landed gracelessly on the floor.
"No, but I did miss this little guy." He sat down on his haunches by the wailing, rolling familiar. "Hello, you little pest." It wailed higher, and wiggled back and forth. "You brought this on yourself, you know." The wails became more miserable, and the dark patches around its eyes changed shape, as of eyebrows tilting to show dejection. "Nope, not gonna cut it. My kidneys still don't forgive you." He bopped the panda's button nose with a finger, and smiled as it gurgled and snapped at him. "I'm only helping you 'cause I can't stand your whining, you hear me?" He lifted the wastebasket back up on its, uh, bottom end – and scowled. There was something… else… "Right, right: I see", he sighed, and fished around his pocket for the starting tag from Knight exam. "Look, jumping on people is how you get treats from him", he stabbed a thumb in Mephisto's direction. "With me it's fine to just… come rubbing up against my leg, or something. Eat this and be quiet."
Shiro had deliberately ignored Mephisto in favour of the panda, and was rather surprised – disappointed, even – that he didn't get any sulky remark for it. But he hadn't seen the very attentive, very interested looks Mephisto had been giving him while being ignored: and when he did turn to face the principal, those looks were gone as if they had never been there.
"When do I get treats for being a good demon?" He leaned back in his high-backed chair and cocked his head to the side with a sweet smile.
"I can toss trash at you too, if you like." Shiro stood and stretched, feeling his muscles remind him of the day's exams. "Anyways, weird stuff's been happening. I cut my hair today-"
"With marginal improvement."
Somewhere, in a parallel dimension, Mephisto was not a headmaster but a hairdresser.
"Compliment duly noted", he smiled with mock politeness. "And do you notice anything besides that?"
"You missed a bit, just above your right ear."
Strike the previous: he was a hairdresser in this dimension, albeit not a practicing one.
"I'll fix that later. Anything else…?" He strolled up to the desk to give him a better look.
"Looks about the same to me."
"Exactly." Shiro ran a hand through his prickly hair. "There should be a black growth at least two centimetres long, but there's nothing: it's white down to the roots. And I haven't bleached it in a month."
There's nothing more effective than to kindle a demon's curiosity. Mephisto beckoned him over, rose, and proceeded to tug off his gloves. Damn, he was tall… Well, Shiro was aware of that by now, of course: aware of it, but acutely reminded of just how tall he was when he stood right in front of Mephisto and was a whole head shorter.
"Is there anything else different with it, save the colour?" The principal combed through his hair and ground hairs together between his fingers. It produced a rustling, sand-like sound.
"It's thicker, I think. And stiffer." The feeling of claws against his scalp made Shiro tense. But the touch was light, and the exploring fingers gentle - and when he stole a glance up at the demon's face… "He's being… cautious…?" Oh, but he had to be. If you can snap iron beams as thick as a man's arm, you have to be very cautious around something as frail as humans. "I'm thinking that might be the reason you couldn't fix it for Hyakki Yagyou", he added, talking to Mephisto's cravat and catching a faint trace of something that might have been perfume. "Oh man you really are a princess."
"Plausible…" Fingers moved to Shiro's chin, and the tip of the thumb's nail fleetingly touched his lip as Mephisto tilted his face upwards.
This… was starting to feel awkward.
"Your eyebrows; were they white before?"
"Um…" He preferred staring into the god-awful cravat, he decided. It was a lot harder to speak with those sharp green eyes scrutinising him so close: so close you could distinguish a faint corona of blue around the reptile pupils. "I'm not sure. I used to bleach them, but it was bothersome in the long run, so I only did it every other time I bleached the hair or so. I don't remember if I did them last time or not. But either way", he detached himself from Mephisto's fingers, "they shouldn't be white anymore."
"And yet, they are." The demon tilted his head to the side and let his eyes roam across Shiro's face once more. "What of your beard?"
"What beard? Does twelve hairs count as a beard?" he huffed, running a hand over the chin that Would Not Grow A Proper Beard no matter how much encouragement it got. "But it's been even less visible than before, now that I think about it… Probably white, too." For a split second, he thought Mephisto was going to keep inquiring about the state of his hair in various places. That would've been awkward.
"I don't think the imprint did this", he mused, stroking his goatee in thought. "Indirectly, perhaps. Three things are known that can cause this kind of change in the body, and those are malnourishment, stress, and shock." He counted them on his hand, thumb to middle finger. "Your stress level can be presumed to have been rather high, with studying for five Meisters. And then we have the incident in Deep Keep." He tugged the gloves back on as he spoke, and the claws vanished into space that didn't exist outside them. "A human body isn't meant for that kind of power. That you survived is nothing short of a miracle, but had you survived without a single mark to show for it I would've doubted you were human at all." Once clad again, his hands came to rest on his hips. "A shock of that magnitude could definitely be traumatic enough to make your hair turn white prematurely."
"So it's always gonna be like this…?" One step closer to the old lady look Kasumi had predicted for him: wonderful.
"Yes – unless you dye it."
"Why would I?" Shiro took a step back, for personal space. "Saves me the trouble of bleaching it once a month." A sudden thought hit him, and he burst out laughing – to Mephisto's bewilderment. "Fufufufu well~ I figured you'd give me grey hairs one day", he said, stroking his chin and pulling a crooked grin to go with the gesture. "Just didn't think it would be this soon."
"Such an unjust accusation: leave you to your own devices and you wouldn't live long enough to grow grey hairs at all", he countered dryly, taking a step forward to maintain the distance between them.
"Good thing I have a guardian angel to look out for me, then." Shiro took another step back, and crossed his arms with a cheeky look. "What would your fellow demons say of that title?"
"I'm sure they would find it highly amusing", he snickered, advancing a step into Shiro's private sphere. "And the Roman Curia would vomit blood. I always did wonder why you bleach your hair, though. Initially, I thought it was because of your name."
Shiro simply stared.
"Seriously? What kind of idiot would dye his hair to fit his name?" He stepped backwards again: more pointedly this time. "Other guys can worry about straight ties and creased trousers. Girls notice that kind of stuff up close: a guy with white hair they're gonna spot a mile away in any crowd."
Mephisto looked like he hadn't considered that aspect, but that he did see the point in it: and he took another step forward.
"…is this some new weird game of yours? Mirroring my movements like that?"
"There's an interesting expression passing over your features when I do – too brief to be properly studied, but nonetheless noticeable." Such an annoying smile, and even more annoying to have it dropped on your head from high above. "Does my proximity make you edgy, Shiro-pon~?"
Shiro was about to threaten his curl – he had promised to tug it if it was within range, and it definitely was – but was suddenly overcome with a much… better… idea.
…actually, it wasn't better. It was stupid, and risky, and he couldn't understand why he would even come up with such a-
Screw it: it would be fun.
"Don't know if 'edgy' is the right thing to call it…" he returned with a sassy drawl, and stroked his fingers down the tress of purple hair that he had once clipped with a katana. "What would you suggest, prince of words and wit?"
"Playing along, all of a sudden?" Mephisto made no move in response to the advance: only looked very, very curious of what would come next. "To what end, I wonder~?" Know your enemy, and you can lead him wherever you like.
"Wanna find out…?" Shiro closed the distance between them, every nerve in his body curled into a tight, quivering knot. "I might not be your type, but I know how my enemy works." And there's nothing more effective than to kindle a demon's curiosity: "Then play the game~"
"I could lose my job for that." Calm voice, calm face - and the hungry glow of lust seared the edges of them both.
"Only if they find out", he pointed out with a sly smile. "There's many things you've done that the Order doesn't know of, right? Something minor like this…" He trailed a finger down Mephisto's silk cravat, and hooked it into the buttoning of the tailcoat with a suggestive tug. "This… what's the word for it…?"
"I think you'll have to elaborate a bit on what you mean: it's difficult, at present, to find the proper word without more… solid… material." A hand found the small of Shiro's back, and pushed his hips forwards to rest against Mephisto's long legs.
Oh, he was an idiot, playing with fire like this – but the thrill…!
"I'd make a fine demon", he thought, recognising the tantalising tug of instincts that weren't his: instincts that took pleasure in leading and luring and manipulating. "I'm bound to agree, your highness", Shiro followed on, pitching his voice and expression to perfection. "It's difficult to find the right words when distracted. Nothing against your taste in clothes…" he let a wicked leer onto his lips, "…but I think I'd find them less distractive if they weren't on you. Einsu…" He undid the top button of the tailcoat. "Zuwei~?" Traced the second button suggestively with his fingertip…
"Keep those hands in check, Shiro", he purred in a way that spoke the opposite of his words, "or I might have to show you entirely different ways to do a tie~" With the expertise of a stage magician, Mephisto yanked the garment from his neck in one fluid motion.
"Durei~" Last button undone: Shiro ran his hands slowly up the burgundy shirt that covered the demon's skeletal chest, leaning in as if to kiss him, and peeled the tailcoat from his shoulders as he did. "This-had-better-work-or-I'm-in-real-deep-shit." Mephisto followed the motion to let it slide off his arms… "I win." … and was left wide-open when Shiro assaulted his midriff.
"Nh-what are-iheheheheihihihihiii!" Reflex bent his thin body to counter the tickling, and he was effectively halted by the tailcoat that tied his arms behind his back. "Nheh-ah-ahhahahaa you little devi-nyahahahahahaaa st-stop thi-hihihihihii!"
"No can do, I fear!" Shiro's cheeks cramped, as did every other muscle in his body, as he struggled to prevent Mephisto from throwing him off. "I simply can't keep my hands off such an exceptionally good-looking demon!"
"You-hihiihii-you'llpayforthisyou-fuahahaahahahaha -ah-ah-awfu-ahahahahaha!" He managed to wrap his arms protectively around his abdomen, and prompted Shiro to find new ways of keeping his advantage. "Ow! Ow ow ow stop iiiit!"
"Such an un-manly shriek, your highness~" Shiro didn't let go of the hair curl until Mephisto tried to shrug his tailcoat back on and free his arms, and in the process left himself open again. "Still got trouble finding the proper words, have you?" he grinned from ear to ear as the demon tottered on his feet and virtually cried from laughter. "I think what you're looking for might be 'uncivilised, insolent, double-crossing mo-'"
Shiro didn't hear the gleeful squeak over Mephisto's laughter: and by the time he did, it was too late to duck.
The panda hit him square between the shoulders. Lovely. He fell headfirst into Mephisto, who was too uncoordinated to stand properly anyway: and, in all, it was no great surprise that they ended up on the floor. With the panda bouncing happily around them, waiting for its reward.
"Like bloody shoujo manga", Shiro groaned inwardly. He'd managed to halt his fall before he landed flat on Mephisto; although, in terms of suggestive positions, their current one wasn't much better. "Your panda is never getting treats from me again", he informed the face below his.
"You should be more concerned with what treats you will bribe me with, if I'm ever to forgive you for this."
He did look rather affronted, Shiro decided, as he watched the laughter slowly abate from the demon's features.
"Well~ you wanted know to what end I was playing along, so…" He shrugged as best he could with his wrists caught in iron grips at each side of Mephisto's shoulders. "I guess the morale of this is 'curiosity killed the cat'?"
Or soaked it in vinegar, if he read the demon's face right. A little more scowling and the tips of his eyebrows would actually touch the base of his nose. There was also an unmistakable, rhythmic twitching in his curl: in all, he looked lovely. Perfectly pissed and perfectly lovely. It would take a generous bribe to wipe that look from his face, and even then it wouldn't-
"You're gonna give me hell for this no matter what I bribe you with, aren't you?" Shiro inquired matter-of-factly. You think? said the one quirked eyebrow that answered him.
"In that case, I'll just wait for payback to bite me", he said, no longer able to hold back a self-satisfied grin. Better savour the moment while it lasted: payback would bite hard. "'Cause no matter what your face says, you do enjoy a good game of wit." No reply, save an even more sour look. "Sulk all you like, but you're not denying that I'm right." Shiro wiggled fingers that were starting to feel rather numb from lack of blood. "Now, would you mind letting me go, so you can plot your gloriously sweet revenge in private…?"
Mephisto's look changed from one of irritation to one of saccharine malice and poisoned promises.
"Sweet it will be, rest assured of that~"
With those words, he let go and snapped his fingers. What came right after was a loud, wet splash.
"Should've guessed as much."
The water wasn't deep, but it was cold – and the bottom was covered with rocks, which his knees had hit with jarring force. Shiro stumbled up on his feet with colourful curses and tried to determine where he was. There was nothing but trees around – wonderful, Mephisto had dumped him in the middle of nowhe- Ah, no, not in the middle of nowhere. He recognised that outcropping rock, and the partly hidden ward that hung under it: he had landed in the well Midori used for bathing.
Shiro sighed, then chuckled to himself as he fished his tie out of the water.
"Yeah, I'm an idiot…" Mephisto could have snapped his bones like twigs in their tussle, even if he didn't mean to. Playing with fire like that… "I wouldn't get old enough grow grey hairs, you're damn right about that."
Was it worth it?
Shiro got his sopping wet feet up on land, hoping to leave that question behind. Playing with fire was a dangerously addictive bad habit, and one bad habit leads to another. Playing with fire was fun: playing with hellfire… was starting to become his new addiction.
Some people aren't programmed for survival: Shiro was willing to admit he was one of them. He was reckless – he certainly was – but he wasn't stupid. He kept a respectful distance to the grand games Mephisto played, but the smaller ones they played on their private two-man board were simply too much of a temptation to pass up. Reckless, but not stupid: at least he hoped s-
"Right…" Shiro groaned at the deepening shadows. A cigarette hung from his lips, and his hand was in an empty trouser pocket. "Not gonna see that lighter ever again. And it was such a good one..." Cigarette lolling between his lips, and shoes squishing out water with every step, he set a moderate pace through the forest towards the distant noises of the night market. "I'm not taking it back, if he gives it to me: he'd probably tamper with it to make it blow up in my face or something."
Oh, come now: Mephisto's revenge would be more spectacular than that! Anything less than getting his hair dyed pink and being paraded through True Cross Town naked would be a disappointment. Curiosity killed the cat, indeed, and it's true not only for demons: a curdling tension tickled Shiro's gut when he tried to guess what Mephisto would do. Heavens knew that particular demon was a creative bastard… and even more so when his grandiose ego had taken such a fine bruising.
"…worth it", he grinned to himself, thinking back on Mephisto's acerbic glares: an addiction difficult to resist.
A/N:
White overnight? You can't find any evidence that says shock/trauma could make hair white "overnight", but I have seen something to that effect happen to my adoptive uncle (people who don't have kids can adopt kids, so I don't see why people who don't have uncles couldn't adopt an uncle). He went from sandy blonde to white in a week or so, after falling and breaking a few ribs – and since this is fiction, I'll take my chances and stretch the concept. ^_^'
Idiots… What kind of idiot would dye his hair to fit his name? An idiot like Kinzo Shima…? xD Oh, but I like that guy. So stupid, random, and loveable. (kin = gold) So, although we see a Shiro with grey hair in the anime, I will run with it as white. It fits his name, as a play on words: I reckon pretty much all of you are aware that there's a difference between shirō (lion son) and shiro (white). It's a confirmed thing that Kato did model Shiro's character after a white lion in Japanese legend, however, so I think I'm not entirely wrong in guessing that his name is wordplay.
