You can't say no.
You can't.
It's not just that it's Azazel asking. Really, it isn't. You know what the Seraph are capable of. You've fought one war beside them and another against them. Sariel could crush you and half the continent you were standing on, if she felt so inclined. Sandalphon wouldn't need to bother. It doesn't matter how much stronger you've become. The distance between you and a Seraph makes the universe look small.
You lived as a slave to Heaven once.
The stars will breathe their last before you ever do again.
It's not like you'll be returning in disgrace, either. You could have lost half the Grigori and handed all their Longinus over to the Devils and you would still stand triumphant before your peers. What you have done is beyond madness. Beyond hope. You, your knowledge, your achievement… you will be royalty. You will inspire awe and envy in equal measure, and history will never forget your name.
You'll have almost everything you have ever wanted.
All it will cost you is a little independence.
Such a small thing, in the face of your life. In the face of all the glory that awaits you.
What use have you for something as foolish as pride?
"May I have some time to make my choice, my lord?" you ask, as if you have one.
"Of course," Azazel says easily, like he expected the question all along. "Contact me when you're ready. I'll be waiting."
He tosses you—and Ruri—a quick, jaunty wave, and disappears.
"You're going to go, aren't you?" She sounds resigned.
"I promised you I'd help hunt down your sister's killers," you demur.
"I very much doubt a promise matters to you more than your own life."
You'd be surprised.
You—fine, at the end, you even begged Hyoudou to save you.
God never crossed your mind.
"You're right, of course," you reply. "I'm not going to throw myself in front of a Seraph for you."
They wouldn't kill you, not given what Azazel said.
That's the problem.
"I wouldn't expect you to."
You step over, and tilt her chin up with a finger. "Don't be bitter, Ruri. I'm a Fallen Angel. You're part kitsune. The only place honour has in either of our worlds is as a punchline."
She steps back, and you lower your hand. "Yeah, I get it."
"No, I don't think you do." Her confusion is endearing. "Sure, I'm going back. I never said I was abandoning you."
"What do you mean?"
"The Grigori is an organisation, not a species. There's nothing stopping you from coming with me. You'll even have a chance to stay a part of the investigation – as Lord Azazel said, he's running his own, and if you offer them Eosphoros, you can probably negotiate your way to being a part of it."
That victory is closed to you, now. You're not quite so petty as to deny Ruri a chance at her own. Besides, she's your student. Anything she does reflects on you. That's how it works, right?
"You—you want me to join you?"
"If I must say it so obviously, yes." You shake your head in mock disappointment. "And here I was thinking you were actually learning to read between the lines."
"Forgive me for being surprised you care," Ruri snaps. Again with that word. She needs to slow down a bit. Your poor maiden heart can't take much more of this. Next she'll want to be friends with you or something.
"Be whatever you like," you say. "But before you do, there's one more thing I have to tell you. About your sister."
"Okay," Ruri says. She looks relieved at the distraction. Silly girl. If only she knew.
"So, you know how I was unfamiliar with Nabi? I was lying. I met her that first day at the hotel. While you were still in bed, actually. She came to visit. It was very sweet."
"You had sex with my sister while I was sleeping in the next room?"
Your laughter would be less wild and raucous if you were drunk. It takes well over half a minute before you recover enough to spit out a "Hell no."
Straightening, you take a couple of steps backward and are obviously much too elegant to simply collapse into your seat, still chuckling. "Don't be stupid, Ruri. If I'd done that, I certainly wouldn't tell you about it. Nabi approached me to extract a Sacred Gear for her. Something to do with some project Yasaka was running. I kicked it up to Lord Azazel, and he decided the project was worth cooperating on, but I had other things to do, so I wasn't in on it. The last time I saw her—except for a quick handover of information—was when I helped her abduct a priest who had the Sacred Gear she wanted to study. That's what you saw the Vanara, the kitsune's accomplice, carrying."
"Right," she says. You wonder when she'll put the dots together; that the same person who wanted something out of you was the one to suggest she throw herself in your direction.
"She asked me to look after you, too," you say. "In a manner of speaking. By which I mean she told me to ruin you so you'd figure out how to deal with it. It was one of the last things she ever said to me."
"...I don't understand."
"You're innocent, Ruri. It was true yesterday. It'll be true tomorrow. You rely on—trust—people too easily. I know that. Nabi knew that. But she couldn't bring herself to teach you not to be the only way that truly works: through experience. So she came to me. I'm still not sure whether to be impressed or disgusted – she had the sort of cruelty even I needed to learn, but was too weak-willed to use it."
"Well," Ruri says, as slow and careful as suffocation, "at least you're respecting her dying wish."
"Do I look like somebody who gives a fuck about that?" you scoff. "If I was trying to break you, Ruri, you wouldn't suspect a thing. You know how easily I can lie to you. I could have strung you along for as long as I wanted to. Hell, I could have left you to the inugami. I've had opportunities. More than you could begin to imagine. And I've never taken a single one."
"Is that what you call this?" she asks, her hands encompassing the room. They're shaking. "Not taking the opportunity?"
"You wanted the truth." You lean back in your chair the way other women do on thrones, and raise an eyebrow. "Don't come crying to me when you get exactly what you asked for."
"For fuck's sake," she says, the curse spat out like it was going to burn her if she held it any longer, "are you trying to drive me away? Or do you just get off on other people's impotence?"
Ruri takes a step toward you. It's jerky, almost abortive, like her whole body's a blade rattling in a sheath.
"You know I don't have anywhere else to go. Anyone else to turn to. It's you or nothing! It doesn't even matter if I want to go with you or not, so don't pretend like you're doing me a favour by telling me that my—my sister wanted to fucking ruin me!"
She isn't crying – but you're pretty sure that's because her fury has burned the tears right out of her.
You… may have made a mistake.
"I—look, Ruri, I'm sorry." The admission is grudging. "I don't do this whole sharing thing very often. Most of the time I use truths like these as weapons. It's a hard habit to break, and… fine, maybe I get a little defensive—which means I get a little offensive—when I'm off-balance and uncomfortable."
You approach her with all the caution someone else might use for a wild animal. If there's one thing you've never had much cause to study, it's how to comfort. You've seen it in action plenty of times, though. Can't be that hard if a human can do it. Reaching out, you—slowly, carefully—lay your fingers on her forearms.
Ruri twists sharply, trying to rip herself out of your grip, and you—no, you let her go. She just screamed at you about her own lack of agency. Of power. Maybe your first impulse shouldn't be to rub it in, however unintentionally.
"I can't do anything about the past, Ruri. I could have handled this better, but it's too late now. Just like it's too late to drag Nabi in here and let you clock her one for being an asshole."
"I'll clock you one for being an asshole," she mutters, but there's no heat in it; the words fall out of her mouth like ash.
"Don't get ahead of yourself." You reach out again, this time grasping her hands. She lets you. Her skin is as smooth as you remember. "Yes, you have nothing and no-one here. Neither of us can change that. Look at the Grigori as an opportunity, if it can't be a choice. I said before that we're an organisation, not a species. One of our most important members are human. Another is half-Devil."
Sure, that might be because they all have a Longinus to their name, but you're not really lying – you don't lack for other examples, you're just trying to inspire her with the most famous.
"Unless you're a Devil," and sometimes not even then, "we don't care what you are, or where you came from. All that matters is where you can go – and you're lucky. You can get stronger. You can grow. You won't be trapped doing the same thing for two thousand years because you could never amount to anything more."
"You make it sound so easy. Just abandon almost everything I've ever known to join a flock of liars, murderers, and thieves, as if it's nothing at all."
"Is it really that bad? You don't even like it here." You tug her toward you, and she follows without resistance. Ruri's eyes meet yours for the first time since you apologised. They're as startlingly bright as ever, somewhere between gold and sunlight. "You have no reason to stay, and every reason to go. Just because something's obvious doesn't mean it's wrong. Anger, hurt, pride, they're not helpful. Let them go. Start thinking about how you can make this work, not why you don't want it to."
One day you'll practice what you preach.
(Probably not).
"You almost sound wise," she says, smiling softly. It trembles, like she's too tired to hold it up.
You squeeze her fingers in warning. "Don't sass your teacher when she's trying to help you, brat. Now – are you done moping? I need to contact Lord Azazel."
You won't insult her by asking if she's decided to come along.
"I'm still not happy with you."
"Good," you reply, releasing her hands to stride over to the door. "I'm used to dealing with people who don't like me."
She huffs a laugh. "I wonder why I'm not surprised."
You zap one of her tails with a spark of lightning for her cheek—because you can do that now—and pulse your Light through the communication seal.
Absolutely nothing happens, as best as you can tell, and then you turn around to find Azazel sitting in one of your chairs.
"My lord," you say, "I have chosen to return. My student wishes to come with me."
Azazel grins, and your heart skips a beat. You were the one to make him happy. You. "I'm glad to hear that. Are you ready to go?"
"I should pack, first."
"That won't be necessary," he says. "Unless Ruri has anything she wants to collect, I can bring everything in this apartment with us."
Right.
He's a Seraph, too.
"I don't mind," she says, because what else would she, "and no, I'm fine. Might—might as well make a clean break."
You blink. "Not even your clothes?"
Symbolism is all well and good, but clothes are another matter entirely.
"I'll just borrow yours. It's the least you can do."
You hide your smirk. If she thinks that's supposed to be a punishment, then she clearly doesn't know what it means.
"Sure. Why not?" You look from her to Azazel. "In that case, we can leave whenever you like, my lord."
"Should I prepare a cell for him?" he asks, indicating Eosphoros with a foot. Oh, yeah. He's still there.
"I would be most grateful, my lord," you say. Eosphoros needs to be interrogated before you let Ruri use him as a bargaining chip. There's no point playing with a hand you don't know the value of.
Azazel nods, and this time you feel the flare of Light, like a distant sun. When it fades, you're standing in your room with Ruri, Eosphoros is nowhere to be seen, and all your belongings are stacked neatly around it. He even brought along the Chair.
"I'll be back later to see how you're settling in," Azazel says, "but there are a few things I need to take care of first. Until next time."
He steps into the ether and vanishes.
