He rounded the cabin and felt relief shoot through him, quelling the molten dread that had begun to churn in his gut. Sitting by the campfire, with her red hair blazing brightly in the light of the frolicking flames, was the Hero. She looked subdued, but not so much that anyone would notice. Maou could barely see any signs of her crying. It seemed that she had hardened her heart, but Maou had bigger issues to contend with. How was he supposed to get her on her own to talk? He licked his lips, took a deep breath, and put up his usual nonchalant front before walking up to the fire and taking a seat next to Emi, who was holding Alas-Ramus in her arms.
"Demon King, you were gone quite a while," Suzuno noted, "we were starting to get worried."
"Ok, for the last time, would everyone call me Maou? Saying 'Demon King' all the time is only going to make discretion harder if someone hears us," Maou grumbled.
"How far you have fallen, sire," Ashiya smirked, "the Demon King I once served would obliterate anyone who did not call him such."
"Titles are meaningless when you consider our mission," Urushihara said sagely. Hearing such wisdom from him was an oddity, but it had his trademark pessimism, so no one seemed to think much of it.
"Speaking of, how goes your training with Emilia," Lailah wondered.
The fallen angel looked back and forth between her daughter and Maou, neither of whom looked up from the fire. Maou could feel the tension building. He only had a few seconds to answer before someone got suspicious and asked more questions, which would be a slippery slope that ended in disaster.
"We've begun to work on the theoretical application of Gate magic," Maou stated. "Still, I plan on making sure she completely understands the subject before she tries to open a Gate."
"Oh, I wish I hadn't fallen from Grace," Lailah groaned sadly, "otherwise that pen I gave you might still work, and you needn't waste your power on opening a Gate!"
Emi was barely listening, though. She nodded slowly, still watching the flames. Next to her, Maou could feel her getting angrier by the second. It was like watching a small whirlwind turn into a full blown category five tornado. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes, and her stare was as hard and piercing as a holy sword.
"I- uh… Emi, could I talk to you for a moment?" Maou asked in a somewhat high-pitched voice.
That one sentence caused everyone situated around the campfire to turn their focus to him. Chiho and Rika looked up from roasting freshly caught trout over the fire. Rika had paused in the middle of seasoning more, and Ashiya froze disemboweling another. It seemed as though he had managed to fish the stream empty.
"We can talk here," Emi answered snootily.
"Please? It's urgent, a matter for only the Hero and the Demon King to discuss."
"Mama, why you mad?"
Alas-Ramus looked up at her mama with those sad violet eyes. They twinkled like polished amethyst as they became watery. Emi tried to smile, but it felt unnatural and weak.
"I just- Mama has a lot on her mind," Emi muttered.
"All the more reason to talk with me," said Maou.
"Go jump off a waterfall," Emi hissed.
"Mama, be nice!"
"That's it, family conference!" Maou cried, "Emi, bring Alas-Ramus and let's go somewhere we can talk-"
"Go fuck yourself-"
"MAMA!" Alas-Ramus shrieked, now bawling her eyes out.
"EMI!" Maou shouted, gesturing at Alas-Ramus, who looked distraught.
"DEMON KING!" Emi hollered, looked as though she just might run him through.
"SIRE!" Ashiya called, reminding his liege that they were making a scene.
"ASHIYA, STAY OUT OF THIS," Maou yelled. He wasn't necessarily shouting at his General, he was just so incensed by Emi's refusal to speak privately that he forgot to lower his voice.
"FINE! LET'S TALK," Emi shouted over the sound of Alas-Ramus' wailing cries.
She led the way around the cabin. Maou had intended to speak with her in his tent, but Emi took the path right back down to where the two of them had been earlier. They came to the pond and it was dark. The moons were reflected on the water. Emi turned and firmly planted herself across from Maou. For a moment it looked as though they were preparing for a duel to the death.
"Talk," Emi commanded.
Maou held out a hand and said, "Sleep."
Alas-Ramus instantly became drowsy, and she fell back against her Mama, her chest rising and falling as her breath fogged in the chill.
"Did you just use magic?" Emi asked worriedly.
"No. I'm still bonded to Alas-Ramus. I just exercised a little self control."
"Not a strong suit of yours, I take it," Emi snapped.
As the two of them prepared for the argument that was sure to come, Maou took in Emi's demeanor. She was leaning heavily upon one leg. If she hadn't been carrying Alas-Ramus, Maou knew her arms would've been crossed, and her bitter glare was as tough and sharp as any blade. Tears streaked her face, and Maou knew she was thinking about their failed training session earlier. Only now did he realize what a mess he'd made of the situation by walking away from the issue.
"I suppose I'll start us off," Maou offered, seeing as Emi simply scowled in silent contempt.
"I would certainly hope so," she hissed, "you're the one who called this stupid family conference."
The Devil took a deep breath, preparing to say his piece. Within a few moments, he cobbled together an assortment of apologies and dove right in.
"I fucked up," he admitted. "I was so busy trying to hash things out, and so preoccupied with drawing up the lines of our relationship that I forgot to consider your feelings. When you told me that what we did was a mistake, I took it personally, and I'm sorry."
"Apology not accepted," the Hero muttered, "now can I go back to the campfire? I'm cold."
"Give me a second, Emi. Please, just let me say what I have to say and then… and then you can do whatever you want. You can even hit me. I deserve it."
"Hmph." Emi huffed, but she made no move to leave. Apparently, the offer to hit the Demon King with no ramifications was too good to pass up. Maou took the initiative and pressed on.
"I wish I was as strong as you," he said after a pause. His words caused Emi to do a double take, and for a second, her ire was replaced with genuine curiosity.
"I wish I had your ability to just shrug off what we did. I wonder what happened to make you so cold, and I wish I could change your mind, but I-"
"I'm the Hero," Emi said loudly, gesturing to herself, "I'm your sworn enemy! I'm supposed to destroy you! It's my fate! You want to know what made me so cold hearted? It was you! You started a war! I was raised on the battlefield! I was trained to be your demise! I dedicated my life to ending yours, and then you- we- I just-"
Her words failed her. Emi shook, but it had nothing to do with the brisk winds carrying flecks of ice cold mist up the waterfall.
"Emi-"
"I'm the Hero! I wasn't supposed to… oh god, what have I done? What did you do to me, Maou?"
"I didn't do anything," Maou said, smiling bitterly as he went to her. She held her head as though her mind were about to break, and her eyes were wide with disbelief. The Devil knew what she was feeling all too well. He felt it in his heart every time he looked at her and remembered that they were supposed to be enemies. It was the pain of being alone all your life, with one goal in mind… only to have that goal replaced by your own traitorous heart's desires.
"You- you're messing with my head! Controlling my thoughts- my emotions! Admit it!"
Emi's tears fell like rain as she staggered and swayed, trying to get away from the Demon King. Maou caught her before she fell, holding her up by her waist. Emi pushed him away, but he wouldn't let go, lest she fall to the ground and drop Alas-Ramus, who was still snoozing away in her arms.
"I'm not manipulating you, idiot," Maou said. "Your feelings are your own."
He looked at her, a fierce hunger in his eyes as he smiled bitterly. Emi felt so weak, for a moment she thought the Devil was draining away her life just by touching her. Somehow, he was sapping her strength, and leaving her powerless, but he made no move to attack. He just held her up, smirking knowingly, as though he understood her pain. She hated it.
"I suppose congratulations are in order, Emi."
"W-why?"
"Because, you've done it," the Devil laughed weakly, "you've defeated the Demon King and laid him low. You've ended his reign of terror… and you didn't even have to kill him to do it."
"What do you mean, Maou? What are you-"
Maou put a finger to her lips, silencing her.
"Emi… I couldn't forget what we did, even if I tried. If we survive this, I'll renounce my throne. I'll give my life to heal this world. I'll do whatever it takes… just so long as we aren't enemies anymore. I'm so tired… so fucking tired… of all the fighting. More than anything, I want to save this world. And we can do it… but we'll have to work together. Can you do that, Emi? Can you work with me until this is all said and done? After that… my life is yours. I'll work the fields of your father's lands with my bare hands. I'll use my powers to set the world to rights, but… Emi, please- don't forget all of our time together!"
Emi listened in silence as Maou groveled and begged for her approval. It was shameful for her to witness, but she watched the Devil, the man she loved and hated above all others, sob as he offered her everything he had. He would give up his titles? He would fix what he'd done? It was a start, but was that supposed to stop Emi from hating him? Would that truly be enough? Could she ever truly forgive his sins?
"All of our time in Japan was spent learning to live in peace! You can't let yourself forget all of that!"
"I didn't forget! I just remembered who I am!"
Within Emi, she felt a strange sense of approval, like a nod from within, telling her that she was right. It was like there was another version of Emi, red eyed and white haired, listening to their argument. She stood with her arms crossed, frowning as she watched the scene unfold.
"You must have forgotten, otherwise you wouldn't be pushing me away like this," Maou rallied. "What about the museum, Emi? Don't you remember what happened?"
Emi pushed harder against the Demon King's chest, but she froze at his words.
'Museum?' Emi thought. 'What museum?'
Now that she thought about it, there were some choice spaces in her memory. She recalled a museum, a fierce battle with a fallen angel of darkness… but what did that have to do with-
The Hero within Emi frowned, and her look could curdle milk.
"The museum," Emi muttered.
After the battle- no, during the battle, Emi and Maou had watched from the sidelines, powerless, as two fallen angels and an archangel battled it out in the skies above Japan. They had borne witness, tired and hopeless, as the forces of evil threatened to overtake them all.
In a last ditch effort to level the playing field, Emi and Maou, knowing that Raphael used love to restore his energy, had kissed. Twice. The first one had been less than spectacular. Their eyes had been open the whole time, and they had twisted and turned, trying to get a view of the battle with their lips locked together. Why would Maou want her to remember that?
The second kiss. The one that had changed everything. That was what Maou meant.
For that kiss, however, Emi hadn't thought of another person, as she had claimed to. She had thought of Maou, just as he had been ever since he came to Japan. They had remained wrapped in a lover's embrace, fierce and passionate, right up until Bernael had come crashing through the ceiling.
"But… how could I have forgotten…"
The Hero within bared her teeth and snarled. One by one, stolen and buried memories tore away from the Hero and replaced themselves in Emi, like tiles in a mosaic, coming together to form a whole, an image of the Demon King that Emi knew and secretly loved.
'Abomination,' the Hero sneered, her expression one of abject disgust.
"I… Maou… how did you know-"
"Our old selves are getting stronger," Maou sighed, looking incredibly tired. Now that Emi was no longer struggling, and her legs were no longer shaking beneath her, Maou let her go, stepping back and running a hand through his hair.
"I think it's time for one more go. For old time's sake," he muttered, more to himself that to Emi.
Emi blushed and turned her face from the falls to stare at the Demon King. She'd been back in her right mind for a whole minute, and the Devil already wanted to hop into a tent with her?!
Maou smirked at Emi's stunned expression.
"I have to stop doing that," he laughed. "What I meant to say is that we should do one more healing session, where I take your emotions. You remember, don't you?"
"Why would you want to take my emotions?"
"Because your inner Hero will compel you to kill me unless we put a stop to it."
Emi was still unsure about trusting the Devil, but after regaining so many glimmering spots of light in her memory, she found it was impossible to deny their bond. They'd held hands, gone on dates, and faced each other's demons. Surely they were in too deep to betray each other at this point. Emi nodded, and before she could change her mind, Maou took her hand and led her away from the freezing mist of the waterfall.
Up the path they went, but instead of heading towards the cabin, they veered to the side and made for the trail down the mountain, where Maou had pitched his tent, or as he called it 'The Demon King's Compact Fortress.'
They ducked inside, and Maou stripped off his coat and rolled up his sleeping bag so Emi could put Alas-Ramus down. Emi felt a curious excitement rush through her limbs. She hadn't been in Maou's tent since the night they had slept together. She could still smell the scent of their deeds, like an intoxicating, musky perfume. It sent tingles down her spine, making her shiver in anticipation.
They sat down and faced one another before putting their hands together, like children playing patty-cake. Maou slid his fingers between Emi's, looking nervous. For all the blush on their cheeks and their overlong stares, they might've been preparing to make love once more.
"You'll have to let me in," said Maou, closing his eyes.
"You're saying lewd shit on purpose, aren't you?"
"Maybe, maybe not, but you know what you have to do, don't you?"
"Just like that time we faced the other Emilia, right?"
"Yes. Hopefully this goes a bit more smoothly. Just don't stab me this time."
"No promises, Demon King," Emi giggled.
The way she said 'Demon King' made Maou's face turn the shade of a beet. He shook his head and tried to ignore the little voice within him shouting for the immediate ravishing of the Hero, who smiled as though she, too, could hear his inner demon.
'Give it to her! Show her your might! Make her fear the power and virility of the DEMON KING!' the little devil on his shoulder squeaked.
Maou's eye twitched and the little demon went flying back into the depths of his subconscious, screaming all the way. He took a deep breath and concentrated on his magic. Seeing as he was touching Emi, he could directly transfer his power into her, rather than letting it leak out into the world for someone to discover. Maou pushed his mental probe through their connection. He found Emi's mind surprisingly open and unguarded. Moving forward, Maou entered Emi's subconscious, where the fields of her old home seemed to stretch on forever in waves of golden grain that never withered or faded.
"Look's nice," Maou said, using his mind to create a physical incarnation of himself next to Emi.
Once more, Maou was in his human form. Normally, for combat purposes, he would've elected his demon form, but after seeing himself as a human in the mirrors of Japan, his default manifestation was as human as they came. The only real difference was that he now wore his old robes and cape, which were padded with armor, and refitted to his human size. His feet were clad in a fine pair of leather hiking boots, the kind he'd seen in the camping surplus store. They'd been high on a shelf, locked in a display case. The price was outrageous, so Ashiya had told him he couldn't buy them, but wearing them in his mind, they were as warm and comfortable as he'd imagined.
"Nice boots," Emi said from next to him, mirth in her voice.
Maou turned to frown at the Hero. She was adorned in her holy raiment, her sword clutched in her hand. Her hair was red and her eyes were green. A single eyebrow was raised, and the corners of her mouth twitched as she looked down at Maou's feet.
"Thanks!"
"I was being facetious," she laughed, "they don't match your Demon Lord robes at all. Hold on, are those the ones from the camping store?!"
"Wha- Yeah! And so what if they don't match the aesthetic, they're comfortable!"
"We're in my subconscious," Emi said loudly, "it doesn't matter what you wear, they'll all be comfortable!"
"Well then, maybe I should just go commando," Maou threatened.
"Just try it!"
Maou and Emi faced off, their cheeks puffed out. Emi was scowling, and Maou was grinning evilly. He focused his will, preparing to change his form. He would appear nude, alright, but not as Maou the human. He would appear as Satan, the Lord of Demons, in all his chiseled, masculine, totally ripped splendor. And, as the ultimate insult, he would appear with an abnormally large phallus.
"HAHA!" he cried in triumph, his voice deepening as he was enfolded in darkness.
"It's too late," Emi said simply, her eyes closed, and a smug smile on her face, "I've already won. The moment you stepped into my mind, your manifestations became subject to my will."
Maou stood before Emi, nine feet tall and buck naked. He grinned like a lunatic, but Emi simply tilted her head at his groin, smirking.
"Missing something, Demon King?" she asked innocently, stifling her laughter.
Maou looked down, and in a moment of intense panic, he reached down and touched his groin.
"WHAT'D YOU DO TO LITTLE SATAN?" Maou screeched.
He ran his clawed hands over the blank expanse of flesh where his manhood had once been. There was nothing. It was flat and smooth, like the privates of a G.I. Joe. Maou stared in disbelief. He'd never had much reason to use his reproductive organs… but that was no excuse for the Hero to steal them away!
"Don't worry, you'll get them back as soon as you put your clothes back on," Emi smiled, leaning against the wall of her home and crossing her arms in satisfaction.
"You win this round, Hero." Maou seethed.
He was engulfed in another swathe of darkness before reappearing once more in his royal vestments. This time, Emi noticed his fancy Japanese hiking boots were replaced by a pair of shiny black leather boots that went with Maou's outfit.
"Huh," he said, reasonably surprised, "I guess you're right. I'm comfortable either way."
A black longsword grew in Maou's outstretched hand. It was the same as the one he had taken from the Ala, but it now glowed with a bloody light. Emi felt her skin crawl just looking at it.
"So, what now?" Maou wondered aloud.
They were both dressed and prepared for battle. Unlike before, Emi's subconscious seemed peaceful and untainted. The sun was bright. The wheat rustled together in a gentle breeze. The little house was still standing… so where was the Hero that Maou had accused of tampering with Emi's judgement?
She cast a wary glance at Maou, who was looking around as though expecting someone to drop from the sky and brandish a sword at him. Thick grey clouds began to gather, and in a single moment, the bright, sunny day had turned grey and bleary.
It started with a single drop.
Then another.
And another.
A steady drizzle began to fall. Maou looked up at the sky, sure that someone would reveal themselves, but to no avail. He looked to Emi, discovering that she was watching him quite carefully. From the uncertain look on her face, he guessed she was still suspicious of his motives. They were, after all, in a very private and personal part of Emi's mind. Any damage Maou inflicted would be considerable, if Emi were unable to stop him.
"Are you gonna glare at me all day, or should we go inside and wait for someone to attack us?" Maou asked, putting his hands on his hips as the rain grew heavy, stinging the skin on his face.
Emi nodded shortly and squelched through the mud, putting her hand on the doorknob and twisting. It did not turn.
"It's locked," Emi frowned.
"Since when is your own subconscious locked?"
"Well, if the Hero knows everything I know… which she does… I'd bet she's trying to keep you out," Emi reasoned.
"That's all well and good, but this rain is getting heavier, and it's getting really cold. Don't you have a key or something? Can't you just think it open?" Maou sighed.
"Do you ever stop complaining?"
"No. It's one of my favorite pastimes."
"Never would've guessed." Emi put a hand onto the wood of the door. She remembered standing at that threshold before. She'd made the choice to let Maou inside her head back then… could she still do it, even though another part of her was supposedly against it?
The truth was, Emi wasn't sure if it was the Hero keeping the door shut, or her. Weren't they one and the same? How could Maou be so sure Emi's alter ego was acting up, when Emi had always considered herself the Hero? Sure, he'd helped her regain some memories, but the more she thought about it, the more she thought that they had always been there, and Maou had just brought them back up.
"Are… are you ok, Emi?"
A warm hand fell on Emi's shoulder. She felt herself shudder at the Demon King's touch. What was she thinking? This was Maou… if she couldn't trust the Demon King, she couldn't trust anyone.
"Fine," Emi muttered, closing her eyes and pressing her forehead against the door. A moment of struggle passed, and then-
Click.
The door swung open, though no one had touched the doorknob. The interior was black and vacant. No matter how Emi and Maou tried, they could not see through it. It was as though someone had hung a black curtain over the door.
"This isn't right." Emi noted.
"Then we know we're in the right place to fix whatever's wrong," Maou said determinedly.
He waited a moment for Emi to come back to her senses. She stared into the darkness with a frown, as though trying to exert some level of control over it.
"Yeah," Emi agreed slowly. "Come on. Let's go inside."
Even before the door swung shut behind them, Emi could feel that they weren't in her little home. The air was dry, and smelled of dust and neglect. She felt that she recognized the smell. It set of red flags in her memory, and made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.
"Emi, the door is gone," Maou whispered nervously.
The Hero nodded. Using her mind, she willed her eyes to see through the darkness. She and Maou were standing in a long, windowless corridor. The brightest visible light was the red that gleamed in Maou's eyes, and the aura about his blade.
"I know this," realized Maou.
He ran a finger along the walls. A shiver of familiarity ran through him, as though the stones remembered the Demon King as well.
"This is my castle. We're in my castle on Ente Isla's central continent."
"Why is my psyche styled after the palace of my archenemy?" Emi wondered aloud.
Maou cleared his throat, raising an eyebrow at the Hero, who quickly blushed and began to march off down the corridor.
"That's not the right way," Maou commented, crossing his arms and smirking at the Hero.
Emi came to a stop before huffing and pirouetting on her heel. She pushed past Maou with her nose in the air and a pout on her lips. The Demon King shook his head and followed after her at a steady pace. Every now and again, he would turn and survey the architecture. The castle was remarkable: a true feat of ingenuity. Maou found that it was well preserved in Emi's memory, most likely due to the fact that this was the location of what she thought would be her final showdown with the Demon King.
The corridor ended in a large archway that led into the throne room. Seeing as he knew the castle like the back of his hand, Maou figured that the Hero- the other Hero- would be there. It was the sight of her greatest triumph, where she had routed the armies of evil, and the Demon King himself, only for victory to be snatched away at the last minute.
The throne room was meticulously crafted, and within Emi's memory, it was whole and sound: unscarred by battles past. The only difference was that the great throne against the far wall had been smashed, shattered to pieces with a force Maou could only compare to a bulldozer, or an angry middle aged woman who always asked to see your manager. Neither of those things were in the grand chamber, however. Aside from Maou and Emi, only one other person was there.
It was a beautiful young woman with long white hair, and a single braid that she had swept behind her ear. Her beauty was marred by a permanent scowl, and though she appeared to only be around sixteen, she carried a silent, taciturn poise that bespoke maturity far beyond her years. This was the Hero, the young woman who had been raised to slay the Devil. Everything about her seemed warlike, as if Emi had a little sister who'd gone to military school, but they looked so alike, they could only be the same person.
The Hero stood facing away from Maou and Emi. She had one arm drawn across her chest, while her other rested upon it. She held her jaw delicately, a single armored finger rapping gently against her chin. She gazed out of a grand window, over a balcony Emi had seen in her nightmares.
The Hero was dressed head to toe in armor. It was her holy raiment, designed to ward off evil, and assist in the slaying of demons. It was stamped with the crest of the Church, like a brand, almost as if to say 'this Hero is property of the Church, please return if found.'
"Emi Yusa," the Hero said quietly, "and Sadao Maou. I bid you both welcome. What brings you here in such trying times?"
Emi frowned. The Hero knew exactly what they were doing there, so why was she playing dumb? And why was she just staring out of the window with those shrewd, scarlet eyes?
She spoke in Ente Islan, though not in Centruvian. It was the dialect native to the Western Continent, more specifically, the area around Sloan village. It was simplified, and told of a surf's upbringing. Most nobles would sneer unkindly at such a dialect, but growing up, Emi had used it whenever she could. It had served both to piss off arrogant dignitaries, and to help her connect with the soldiers in her army, most of whom were men and women of poverty, risen in earnest against the Demon King and his tyranny.
"You know why we're here," Emi responded in kind, showcasing her flawless knowledge of the language, though her tone was now touched with traces of a Japanese accent.
The younger girl turned, frowning up and down at Emi. It was clear that the Hero didn't think very much of her alternate self, dressed as it was in plain clothes, and stripped of the lean muscle of harsh training and army life.
In truth, staring at her counterpart made Emi a little wistful. After spending two years in Japan, she'd become lax with her physical appearance. It was normal for women on Earth to do cardio and yoga, but they did not often drill for hours with heavy swords, nor did they march for days with all of their equipment on their backs. The Hero before Emi was clearly quite lean and strong, probably at her physical peak for a girl of only sixteen.
"No, I do not. I have watched what you have been doing since our failed attempt to end the Demon King. Every day, I grew more wary as he lulled you further and further into his devious snare. You befriended your greatest enemy. Now you're on your way to Heaven for a mission that will only serve to make tensions worse in Ente Isla. I saw the both of you, committing the most terrible atrocity that I've ever cared to witness. Now you come before me, together, swords bared and ready for battle. No, I have no clue what you are doing here."
The Hero crossed her arms. Her frown lines deepened, and she turned back to stare out the window, though there was nothing out there, save an eerie red glow and an empty balcony.
Emi thought she heard a hint of hurt in the Hero's voice. The scarlet eyes met the green, and Emi felt an odd connection pass between them. She understood her younger self's thinking process, having undergone it firsthand. She was once so stubborn and proud. She'd been a simple farm girl, raised to be a warrior. It didn't change the fact that she'd been a hormonal teenager, however.
"Uh- why are you so young? I mean, if you don't mind me asking," Maou posed, scratching his cheek in an embarrassed manner.
The Hero turned and scowled at the Devil, though she couldn't hide her confusion.
"She doesn't speak Japanese, idiot," Emi muttered to Maou.
"Oh, right. My bad. Sorry about that."
Emi elbowed Maou in the ribs, "Try apologizing in Centruvian. Geez, you're so thick, sometimes."
"That's what you said the other night," Maou giggled.
Emi stared at Maou with murder in her eyes for a moment before turning back to the Hero, who watched the exchange with a strange look in her eyes, as if she were witnessing something indecent. Something told Emi that this young girl was not comfortable around such displays of familiarity between a man and a woman. In Ente Isla, love was a much more private affair, and public displays of affection were wholly frowned upon. Being a teenager raised by the Church, the Hero had never seen such a relationship. Emi could only wonder how shocked the younger Hero must've been when she had spent the night with Maou.
"What is the Demon King saying?" the Hero asked suspiciously.
She held out clawed gauntlet, and the hazy outline of a blade appeared in her hand. Emi tensed, seeing how strong the holy sword was at full power, just as it had been when she'd assaulted the Demon Lord's Castle. She hadn't seen it so large in years.
"My apologies, Hero," Maou said, stepping by Emi, "I was just wondering why you look so young."
"As if I would deign to answer-"
"It's because this was the last time I actually felt like the Hero," Emi answered quietly. "Since I went to Japan… since we started working together to survive… I haven't felt like a Hero. She's manifested in the form I took when I was on the brink of victory, back before I ever went to Japan... before I knew you."
Maou knew Emi didn't mean to hurt his feelings, but it didn't stop the sting of her words. They had worked together for the greater good, for the betterment of demons and humans… how could she not feel like a Hero? She certainly acted like the world sat on her shoulders all the time.
"Maybe… maybe it was just the loss of my magic. Or how fragile my body became… but the truth is, I haven't really seen myself as the Hero for a long time. My world was turned on its head, angels attacked, my parents came back into my life- I became a mother, I lost my job…"
"You can still be the Hero," the younger Emi said, stepping forward, "take One Wing, and use it to kill Satan."
Emi stared at the sword her counterpart held out, tracing the nostalgic blade with hungry eyes. Maou wanted to snap her out of it, but the Hero watched him carefully, and he got the feeling that if he moved too fast, she would strike him down without a second thought, and as she was a part of Emi, Maou doubted he could stop her.
"Emi, if killing me was the right thing to do, you'd have done it already," Maou muttered.
He wasn't sure she had heard him until she turned back to face him. She looked surprised, almost as if she'd forgotten he was there.
"You've only ever followed your own convictions, Emi. You've chosen to spare my life on more than one occasion. We're in this together."
Maou held out a hand. The Hero's face twitched, a brief flash of anger betraying how she really felt. Within the white haired girl, the Demon King could sense an angry, bubbling fury, like a volcano spewing molten lava and ash as it destroyed everything around it. The Hero hated the Demon King for escaping punishment, for ensaring her in a life of inescapable togetherness. She hated herself for showing the Devil mercy, for allowing him to have such sway over her- and for those god damned butterflies that always seemed to get excited when he drew near.
All this and more Maou sensed in an instant. His malevolent crimson eyes met the Hero's vindictive scarlet gaze.
Meanwhile, Emi stood between the Devil and the Hero, torn between her duty to Ente Isla, and her love for a Demon King she was destined to defeat.
On one side, the Hero held out her blade, the Holy Sword, Better Half, in its fullest and most powerful form. It was a weapon unlike any other; priceless as the holy metals that went into its forging… so what did the Devil have to offer?
His hand. That was all. His nails were somewhat ragged, no doubt because he'd been nervously chewing them while contemplating his bills. Even inside Emi's psyche, Maou's hand still had burns from the fryer at MgRonalds. He had long, slender fingers that were decorated with callouses from various side jobs.
Compared to the holy sword, how could the Devil's hand possibly compare?
A light caught Emi's eye, a winking light reflecting off of shiny metal. It was Maou's wedding ring. Almost as if they were connected, Emi felt the wedding ring on her finger grow heavy.
"I can't kill Maou." Emi muttered.
"Then step aside," the Hero snarled, "and I'll do it for us."
"No, you won't."
The Hero made to grip Emi's shoulder and push her aside, but Emi didn't move. In a single moment, Emi had caught the Hero by the elbow, pushing her sword arm well away from Maou. The Hero struck Emi with an armored fist, driving it up under her ribcage. Emi gasped and felt her head go light as stars danced in front of her eyes, but she stood her ground.
"I must kill the Demon King!"
"He is not the enemy," Emi choked as she struggled to draw breath.
The Hero's eyes filled with angry tears as she tried and failed to get past her elder self. Emi watched as the Hero, who quickly grew more and more desperate, positively howled with rage, stabbing at Maou from under Emi's outstretched arms.
"GGRRAAAAHHH! LET GO OF ME! I MUST KILL THE DEVIL! PEACE MUST BE RESTORED, AND HIS DEATH-"
Emi pushed the Hero away and held her at arm's length, staring her dead in the eye.
"Maou's death won't undo the past. It won't magically put Ente Isla to rights. And it won't make us feel any better."
Try as she might, the younger Emi could not free herself from her own piercing stare. Looking into those green eyes, which seemed so sure and logical and wise, was like hell to the Hero. If she didn't know any better, her older self might have already gone through the same thing.
"If there is no Demon King to defeat, then what good is a Hero?" the white haired Emi wondered.
The holy sword vanished from her hands as she lost her will to fight. She fell forward, but Emi held her up.
"Putting a stop to the Demon King's invasion was the easy part," Emi smiled, "what comes next- putting everything back together… healing the land... that will take time and effort. And besides, you routed not one, but three individual demon armies. We've already earned the title of 'Hero.'"
"You- you really think so?"
The young Emi looked up at her counterpart. There was something so comforting about seeing her future self act with such surety. It made her feel better, knowing that she not only survived, but that she had grown into such a wise, strong woman.
"I know so. Trust me. We are the Hero. We've put a stop to the Demon King, we made him see the error of his ways… now there's only one thing left to contend with."
The Hero looked into Emi's determined emerald stare. Something passed between them, and the Hero was suddenly made aware of all of Heaven's atrocities. Her hair blew in a breeze as her celestial force blossomed outward, forming a crackling shell of white power around her.
"Heaven must be stopped," the Hero realized.
Emi smiled, hugging her younger self to her chest. There was a moment where the Hero's eyes widened in surprise before she smiled and hugged her back. Light blinded Maou, so he shielded his eyes, and by the time the light had dimmed, he and Emi were alone in a little farmhouse. A fire crackled merrily in the grate. The sun shone brightly through the windows.
"What'd you do?"
"I just… found myself," Emi shrugged.
"Ok… but how do you feel?"
Emi scrutinized Maou closely, noting the nervous sweat on his face. She felt a begrudging sense of attachment within her, as though the Hero were finally admitting she found the Devil attractive. As the Hero in Emi blushed, so did she.
"Better," Emi smiled.
Their eyelids fluttered open. They were once more in the little tent. Maou and Emi held hands for a moment longer, smiling bashfully, until a light groan from beside them drew their attention. Alas-Ramus was still sleeping, a great smile on her face as drool fell from the corner of her mouth.
Emi went and fetched her sleeping bag from the cabin. She returned shortly thereafter, informing Maou that everyone else had gone to bed.
"I left a note saying that Alas-Ramus and I are staying out here with you for the night. I don't want them worrying," Emi explained.
Maou nodded. The Hero lifted Alas-Ramus so that he could lay out his sleeping bag. The parents clambered under the covers, the small girl laying between them as they stared into each other's eyes. Slowly, sleep overtook the Devil and the Hero, and they rested well into the morning, sleeping more peacefully than they had since they'd come to Ente Isla.
The Demon King woke at noon the next day. Alas-Ramus was standing over him, an irritated glint in her eyes as she frowned down at her papa.
"Get up! I'm hungwy!"
"Huh? Oh- ok, give me a second… no, don't wake mama! She needs her rest!"
Maou observed Emi, noting her slight frown. She was curled up, and wrapped in a thicket of blankets. Even so, she was shivering, as though she were still cold. Whatever Emi was going through, it wasn't pleasant, and she needed all the rest she could get. The Devil put on his coat, and then painstakingly stuffed Alas-Ramus into her own. Maou had never been so appalled as he had been when buying the toddler's winter clothes. He figured that seeing as less material was used in their creation, then they would be cheaper than adult coats and boots. He'd never been so mistaken in his life. And it didn't help that Emi insisted he buy the toddler name brand clothes, instead of knockoffs or discounted winter wear.
"Huwwy! I wanna eat!"
"Yeah, yeah, let me zip your coat and we can go," Maou sighed.
He exited the tent only to feel the cruel chill of winter press down on him from all sides. Clearly a cold snap had worked its way through Ente Isla's Western Continent. The farmers to the south would be in an uproar over the unseasonable chill. Shaking in his boots, Maou hurried up the trail to the cabin, where he saw smoke roiling from the chimney.
The interior of the cabin was warm and smelled strongly of frying breakfast. Though the weather outside had only grown less hospitable, he felt far better than he had the day before; after his night with the Hero, and her heart-wrenching note, which was still in his pocket.
"Maou, have you seen Emi," Nord asked.
The Demon King handed Alas-Ramus to her foster grandmother, who smiled and took her to the table, where several plates of food had already been set aside just for her and Acies-Ara, who consumed more than everyone else put together.
"Sleeping," Maou replied tiredly, wishing that he were still doing just that.
"I suppose she needs the sleep. I'd wager the both of us got sick yesterday. Being so close to our old home is no good for her immune system… I myself fear I may have caught a cold."
Looking at Nord up close, Maou could definitely tell something was amiss. The man had dark circles under his eyes. His beard, which was usually well kempt and combed, was a tangled mess. His long hair hung free of its usual ponytail, and cascaded down his shoulders. He wore only his pajamas, and his skin was frightfully pale. He had several empty boxes of nose tissue around him, and it looked as though he would need more any minute.
"I still think it's more than a cold," Lailah chided, cutting a sausage into chunks for Alas-Ramus.
"It's nothing to be concerned about… truth be told, I think Emi will have the worse end of the stick." Nord punctuated his statement with a hacking cough, the type that would make any physician worth their salt do a double take. Lailah scowled at her husband. Even for his age, he was just as stubborn as he had been when she met him.
"Morning, all"
Chiho, Rika, and Ashiya all strolled into the cabin, bringing with them a freezing gale that made everyone shiver. Rika and Chiho, both of whom were still suffering from massive blisters, limped over to the table. For the first time, Maou realized how out of it he must've been. He'd been so busy with Emi, he'd very nearly forgotten that Chi and Rika weren't even supposed to be there.
"You guys ok?" he asked lamely.
Something of his guilt had shown on his face, for Chiho smiled widely and nodded. The effect was ruined when she accidentally kicked the table.
"SON OF A BITCH!"
No one had ever heard Chiho curse so loudly, nor so fluently. Since when did this sweet, soft-spoken girl cuss like a sailor straight from the grungy docks of Ente Isla's dingiest port cities?
It only got worse when Chiho lifted her foot from the floor and teetered. She fell onto the table and sent food, coffee and used nose tissue flying in all directions. Maou felt his magic flare. He pushed it inward, and time seemed to slow as his demonic reflexes returned.
He could see Chiho falling, incredibly slowly, her face painted in pain and surprise, and her eyes brimming with tears. First, he pulled her away from the wreckage that was about to become the table. Then, as the platters of food were sent catapulting across the room, Maou caught them. All of the food neatly piled itself upon the platters before Maou set them safely off to the side. Finally, he found the coffee pot, which was only moments away from being shattered against the bench next to Lailah, and showering both her and Alas-Ramus with blazing hot bean-roasted goodness.
He snatched the coffee pot away from the bench and set it by the food. Sadly, he couldn't do much more, and time suddenly resumed its usual pace. The leg of the table broke. Mugs of coffee slid off the edge and shattered on the floor. Used tissues flew every which way, like large, disgusting snowflakes. One landed on the fork Lailah had been piloting like an airplane into Alas-Ramus' mouth. Lailah scowled at her husband.
"This is why I told you to clean up your snot rags!"
"I'll get right on it, dear," Nord sighed.
As he went about cleaning up his mess, Chiho sniffled on the floor. Maou bent down to make sure she was ok when another icy breeze licked the back of his neck. He turned, and there in the doorway was the Hero. She was dressed in a set of embarrassingly pink bunny pajamas. Her nose was red and her eyes were puffy. Her fringe was droopy and lackluster, and her hair still stuck up at odd angles, as though she'd just woken up.
"What's going on? I heard a bunch of noise. And who broke dad's table?"
Nord bent down, surveying the extent of the damage to the table with sad eyes. Any other day, he might've had the time and energy to fix it, but as things were, there was little he could do but sigh and run a hand through his hair.
"I-it was m-me," Chiho groaned, snot trailing from her nose as she tried not to cry.
"She's still got those blisters, and when she hit one against the table, she sort of keeled over," Maou explained, noting the way Emi's eye was twitching. "It was an honest mistake."
Emi gnawed the inside of her cheek. She hadn't wanted to expend any more of her magic, lest she compromise their mission, but Rika and Chiho were both clearly suffering, and that table was her father's best woodwork to date. He'd spent weeks on it, shaping it from a tree he'd felled.
"Rika, Chiho, have a seat at the bench," Emi decided.
"Emilia, darling, you shouldn't waste any more of your magic," Lailah reminded her.
"It's not a waste if I'm helping my friends," Emi snorted, whipping her nose on her sleeve as she bent down before Rika and Chiho. The girls kicked off their hiking boots, and Emi saw the extent of the damage. The blisters had not healed at all. In fact, they had broken open and bled profusely. A couple looked as though they might've become infected. It was a testament to the girls' willpower that they were up and about.
"Goodness, you two really did a number on yourselves," Emi muttered.
"Sorry," Chiho pouted.
"Don't be. I'll heal you and- ah-AH-ACHOO!"
Emi sneezed so hard hat she fell backward and landed on her butt. She sat there, stunned for a moment, as Rika and Chiho smiled, doing their best not to laugh.
"Oh man, if I knew Emi was sick I'd have stayed in my tent," drawled a familiar voice
Another burst of cold rolled through the cabin, and Urushihara and Suzuno were standing in the doorway. Urushihara was holding several logs to put in the fireplace, and Suzuno was carrying a large, sharp axe. The both of them were bundled quite thoroughly in winter clothes, including scarves, hats, and gloves.
"I'm not sick," Emi snapped, "I just… I…. aaaAAAACHOO!"
Emi's intimidating demeanor was suddenly lost as she sneezed again. Snot flew from her nostrils and she hurriedly covered her face and began sifting through empty tissue boxes. Nord, in an effort to help, tossed the box he was carrying at Emi. It bounced off of her head, and she scowled at her father for a moment before ripping out several sheets.
"Whoops, sorry sweetheart."
Emi blew her nose several times and finally levelled her gaze to the fallen angel and the inquisitor. They were both smiling and doing their best to stifle their giggling. The way they looked at each other made Emi's stomach turn unpleasantly.
"Uh, Emi? Maybe you should heal Rika and Chi before you kill Urushihara?" Maou offered.
She shot the fallen angel one more venomous glare, which he didn't even notice, and then set about healing her friends. Rika and Chiho flinched every now and again, but for the most part, they sat still and endured the pain. By the time Emi had finished, not a single blemish or pink spot remained.
"Yay! I can walk!" Chiho proclaimed, standing up and feeling as though she could take on the world.
"Good. Now, how about we discuss that language you used earlier?" Lailah asked, looking stern.
Chiho swallowed past the lump in her throat and squeaked, "Sorry, mom! I mean, sorry Lailah!"
"I'm just messing with you, dear," Lailah smiled. "Come eat. You look famished!"
Emi flicked her wrist at the table. Within seconds it had repaired itself. The wood flew back together, each splinter replacing itself perfectly. After a moment, it looked good as new. Even the shattered coffe mugs had ben repaired.
"If I weren't so miserably sick, I'd hug you," Nord said thickly.
Emi grinned and hugged her dad anyway. She was sick as it was, and something told her that some shared germs wouldn't hurt.
Suzuno and Urushihara took a few extra minutes to remove all of their winter clothes before taking their places around the table as well. Most of the day was passed in a rather lax fashion. With Emi sick, no Gates could be opened. Training wouldn't get very far, and Nord was against any of them leaving the cabin, lest any more of them get sick in the frightful chill that had overtaken the mountain.
Hot cocoa and coffee and tea were brewed by the gallon. Everyone took turns changing into their comfy pajamas. Emi read Alas-Ramus several of her old books by the light of the fire. Maou sat with them, poking fun at Emi every now and again when she mispronounced a word or accidentally stuttered. Emi said nothing about his joke, though, for he also handed her a tissue whenever her voice became garbled from phlegm.
Ashiya and Rika sat on the bench in front of the fire, listening to the stories as they sipped on steaming mugs of cocoa. Rika kept elbowing him and nodding at the little family, as if to emphasize their togetherness, like 'That will be us soon!'
Chiho noted the taxidermied fish hanging on the wall of the cabin. Nord threw an arm over her shoulder and told her all about how he'd caught the fish, and subsequently taught himself taxidermy. By the end of the tale, Chiho was coughing as well as Nord.
Urushihara and Suzuno shared a chair. It was obviously Nord's personal chair, as it was large and throne-like. He'd thrown it with a pelt of some kind, and while it didn't particularly smell all that great, it was warm and comfortable. The two of them snipped at each other, but their hearts weren't really into the argument. They slowly fell asleep together, with Suzuno's head on Urushihara's shoulder, and his head rested against hers.
Nord, Lailah, and Acies-Ara all left for the bedroom, as they were all rather tired. Not that Lailah or Acies could get sick, but as Nord had been awake all night, so too had his wife and foster daughter. They found it difficult to sleep when Nord blew his nose every five minutes.
The world turned, day became night, and soon everyone was drowsy. The heat and the scent of wood smoke was intoxicating. Sadly, not everyone was able to sleep. The Demon King sat awake, lost in thought as the flickering flames reflected in his eyes. He watched them without truly seeing their beauty. He had been in Ente Isla for.. what was it now? Three- no, four days? How much longer would they be there? Their rations were already running low, and Alas-Ramus and Acies-Ara had laid waste to their supply of food from Japan. They needed to get going… Emi needed to complete her training. He decided that, sick or no, tomorrow would be the day. Tomorrow, Emi would learn to control the gate. He had no doubts she would master it easily. Emi was, if nothing else, resourceful.
He looked down at Emi and Alas-Ramus, who were curled up in a blanket by the hearth. They looked so peaceful and cozy that the Devil wished he could join them… but he knew it would do no good. Even if he wanted to, sleep wasn't something he needed.
It was one thing in Japan, where magic was scarce. He was forced to eat and sleep to maintain his body's natural energy. In Ente Isla, where magic was naturally occurring, he didn't need to eat or sleep. That wasn't what kept him from curling up next to Alas-Ramus and trying, though.
As a King, Maou was well aware of the cost of battle. He knew all about casualties and collateral damage. He was a master of strategizing, and his tactical thinking was unmatched, given his superior demon's intellect. Only Ashiya could boast a keener mind, and even so, he often underestimated his enemies. Maou was not so careless.
That's why he was awake, for even as he wanted desperately to sleep, the consequences that would befall his friends should they fail in their mission ate at him like locusts.
Chiho's parents would likely never know what happened to her. They would be left to wonder what had happened, hoping against hope that Chiho would one day return. The same went for Rika's family. Sooner or later, they would notice her absence. They would send the authorities to search for her… and they would fail, all the same.
Countless people; friends, coworkers, and acquaintances alike, would wonder what had happened to them. They would wonder how such sweet young women could just disappear. But at the end of the day, they would sigh and get on with their lives, completely unaware of the sacrifice they'd made.
An anger gripped Maou's heart. He wished he'd never involved Chiho and Rika. He wished they had stayed in Japan.
A devious idea came to the Lord of Demons, something so sinister and deplorable that he was taken aback by his own evil.
Rika and Chiho were cuddled together for warmth on the bench, not even five feet from him. Maou was brimming with power. With a snap of his fingers, he could send them back to Earth. They would awaken, tired and confused, in the streets of Japan, and Maou could undergo his mission. If he failed, then they could live normal lives. They could forget about Ente Isla. They could get therapy, or convince themselves it was just a dream. If, by some miracle, he succeeded in defeating Ignora… perhaps he could return and explain. Or apologize. Anything, so long as they were safe from the conflict.
But a part of him, the cold, logical part, knew that it was already too late. He'd seen how pale they were, standing inside Suzuno's barrier. He'd watched them flinch when the Templars had screamed in agony. No, they were already affected. The war had sunk it's bloodstained teeth into another two innocents.
He looked down. His thumb and middle finger were pressed together so hard they were white. His entire hand shook. One little snap… one movement would ensure their safety.
'Rika will never be safe,' Maou chided himself, 'or did you forget what Asmodeus did to her? Not to mention Alciel would despise you for sending her away… and Chiho… well, she's so invested, she'd probably just find a way to open a Gate and follow after us.'
"Maou?" Emi asked.
She sat up, rubbing her eyes and watching Maou blearily. The Demon King quickly fixed a blank expression onto his face.
"Yeah? What's up, Emi?"
"Go to sleep," she said, "I need you to lay in front of me so the light of the fire isn't directly in my eyes."
Normally, Maou might have critiqued Emi, and taken a jab at how whiny she sounded, but she was pouting slightly, and her hair was a mess, and her cheeks were rosy and-
"Why are you smiling at me like that?" Emi asked, frowning.
Maou simply shook his head. There was no point in trying to explain how much she meant to him, or how beautiful she was, even when she was tired.
"No reason," he whispered, "night, Emi."
"G'night Maou."
The Hero laid back down and gently wrapped an arm around Alas-Ramus before shutting her eyes and going to sleep. The Demon King, on the other hand, decided that his time would be better spent consuming his magic to stay awake, so he could trace every detail of Emi's face until the fire burned low, and he finally fell into a sleep so pleasant and warm he wished it would never end.