July 21, 2009

Before the exam started, Shiro had already resolved that he would take the first flare. After all, he was the head teacher of the class. It was only proper. So when he saw the flare pop above the treeline, Shiro was already putting away his 3DS and getting to his feet.

"I'll get it," he called over his shoulder and headed off into the woods. He looked up at the burning trail in the sky, quickly making mental calculations for how far into the woods he'd need to go.

Shiro's thoughts wandered to his kids. Things were going surprisingly smooth. Rin's training was proving to be a continuous success as he got a better handle on his flames. All the while, Ryuuji was doing a good job of keeping it all secret, despite the argument that they'd had a couple weeks ago. It seemed that the ultimatum he had given them was working just fine and giving them both proper motivation to study as well as bring up the rest of their classmates.

Meanwhile, Yukio was going through something entirely different. Shiro had been surprised the night before when he and Renzou snuck out of the tent at night. Shura had suggested sending a familiar out after them with that mischievous glint in her eye but Shiro had smiled and told her to let them go. They didn't return until quite late. There was a part of him that was happy Yukio was acting like a teenager for once. His son had been through a lot and lost a good chunk of his childhood to nightmares and exorcist training. So to see him do something so juvenile as sneaking off in the middle of the night with the boy he liked was something that put Shiro's heart at ease.

"Ahh, you're right! Those little brats are growing up just fine!"

Shiro's steps were staggered as a wave of lightheadedness rushed through him like someone banging their fist on the door. It wasn't a strong wave of effort, but it was one Shiro hadn't been expecting. He'd been too relaxed.

"Shut up," he growled under his breath.

Crazed laughter filled his mind. He felt his overbearing presence as if the demon himself was hanging on his back.

"Oh come on! I'm bored! I want to use your body already! I'm bored of waiting in Gehenna!"

"Die waiting." Shiro snarled as he kept walking forward, not forgetting why he was in the forest. The flare. Someone had shot off a flare.

"HAHAHA! No you! You die! You die! Die already!"

It was almost like a gleeful childish tantrum. Focus. He glared forward, wondering if he should call Shura to help him find the student.

"You've gotten old! Old loser Shiro! Big old creaky bag of bones!"

"I'm still winning so who's the real loser?" Shiro smirked. He blinked and found himself leaning against a nearby tree, panting with effort. He couldn't see straight and the headache hit him like such a sack of bricks that he hadn't realized it until it was pounding away at his skull.

"It's only a matter of time."

The voice was uncharacteristically quiet to the Satan he knew. Shiro gritted his teeth, his breaths ragged as the voice slowly raised in volume to its usual screeching glee.

"It's only a matter of time until you slip up and then I'll be there. I'll be there! I'll be there! I'LL BE THERE! I'LL BE THERE! AHAHAHAHA!"

Shiro's fingers were bleeding as he clawed at the bark, the pain giving him much needed clarity. He focused on his mental walls, bringing them up and pushing Satan from his mind. It was difficult to do, as like a spiteful child, Satan kept knocking over the half built defenses. Shiro persisted even as he taunted and laughed but, as Shiro expected him to, the childlike demon got quickly bored and left him. He fortified his walls again and Shiro focused on breathing.

He's right. I'm getting old. Shiro thumped his head quietly against the tree he was gripping so firmly to. How much longer could he last? Satan was finding it easier and easier to fuck with him. The last week he'd spent in Mephisto's place hadn't made it any easier. Mephisto's house was the only place he got a decent night's sleep. The mansion had this weird pocket dimension sort of quality that made it hard for Satan's voice to reach him. He'd never told Mephisto about the little detail but he had a feeling the clown already knew. As much as he appreciated the break, it had made Shiro relax.

His eyes widened. Shit. How much time has passed?! Shiro shook his head and ran towards where the flare was shot off, cursing himself for not staying focused.

He didn't make it more than four steps before he felt a sharp pain in the center of his back. The force shot Shiro forward several feet where he tumbled to the ground. Shiro gasped, trying to draw in breath as he vaguely heard footsteps approaching him. He fumbled into his coat for his gun but as he pulled it out, a foot kicked it away from his loose grip. His weak grip.

"I got bored of waiting so I looked for you." The monotone voice was infuriatingly familiar.

"Amaimon…" Shiro snarled, looking up at the Demon King of Earth standing over him. "What the fuck…?!"

"I need to make sure you won't get in the way again." Amaimon lifted his shoe and placed it over Shiro's forehead. He grabbed the demon's ankle as his foot bore down on his skull. The pressure made his headache splitting and he let out a breathless grunt of pain. The pressure suddenly ceased.

"But you're my big brother's favorite toy so it's not like I can kill you."

"You sound disappointed," Shiro growled, trying to blink his vision back. The pain was blinding him but he did his best not to let it show.

"I wish I could kill you," Amaimon replied in the tone of a child trying to not so subtly change a parent's judgement. The demon shook Shiro's hands off his foot and crouched down. He felt a sharp pinprick of a nail at his forehead. "I wish I could carve your head open and pour your brains out, but my big brother said I can't."

"Lucky me," Shiro breathed as he slowly blinked the spots from his vision. Just before he knew the clarity would return to his eyes, he took advantage of Amaimon's crouched over form. He grabbed the front of the demon king's jacket and flipped him over onto his back. Shiro quickly followed him, pressing a knee into his chest and pulling his spare revolver from his coat. His vision was still blurred but he could tell where Amaimon's head was.

"Wow." Amaimon didn't sound amazed.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Shiro growled. His aim was still unsteady and it only served to piss him off further.

"To make sure you don't get in the way," Amaimon responded, his tone bored.

"In the way of what?"

"Of my fun. Duh."

Shiro growled in frustration as Amaimon laced his hands behind his back as if it had been his choice to recline in the grass and Shiro wasn't pointing a gun at his nose. He knew why Amaimon was there, or at least had a hunch, but Shiro just couldn't accept that Amaimon was simply playing with Rin.

"Okay, another question." Shiro sneered. "Why Rin? What's the point of this?"

"Can't a big brother come check in on their little brother?" Amaimon replied. If it wasn't for that infuriating monotone, he would have almost sounded like Mephisto.

"Jesus Christ," Shiro snarled in frustration.

"Ow."

"Huh?" Shiro looked at Amaimon in genuine shock. Had he just—?

"It was a joke."

Shiro pulled the trigger twice and a bullet wound appeared in Amaimon's forehead and chest.

"Fuck, you're worse than your brother for sure," Shiro growled and stood to retrieve his other revolver from the grass.

"That… really hurt." Amaimon coughed and spit out the bullet with a wet slap of blood into the grass. He picked himself up and rushed Shiro at once.

His breath seized and he shot Amaimon again, though this time the demon king was ready, smacking aside the bullet before it hit him. Shiro felt strong fingers wrap around his throat as he was slammed against the nearest tree. Pain blossomed in his ribs as the wood splintered behind him. That's right. As annoying as Amaimon was, Shiro couldn't forget how absolutely outmatched he was. A lightning strike of loathing shot through his chest as he tried to inhale, but found he couldn't. Shiro lifted his guns but they were wrenched easily out of his grip.

"I'm done playing with you. I have to go make sure I'm not late." Amaimon chewed on his thumbnail as he stared impassively at Shiro. "Please sleep so I don't have to deal with you."

Shiro's vision faded as he gripped and pulled at the firm grip on his throat. He fought to hold on to lucidity but it was only a matter of time.

Perhaps, because of that, Shiro wondered if what he experienced next was a dream or not. Maybe, he thought as he watched his son and Amaimon battle it out like feral demons, this was all just a dream and he was still unconscious. Maybe, he thought as Yukio glared at him with such fire and distrust in his eyes, this wasn't actually real. Maybe, he thought as Rin opened his sword in front of Vatican officials in his defense, Amaimon had just broken a rib and he was in the hospital on a morphine high.

Maybe none of this was happening.

God, he hoped none of this was happening.

There was a part of Shiro that hung onto that thought tightly as the world crashed around him, piece by piece. He could barely keep up with it all. He'd thought he'd have more time. He'd been trying his best to control the situation for so long, that to have the rug pulled from under his feet like this left him disoriented.

His head was still spinning when he gently pushed the door that led to Mephisto's office shut behind him. It clicked softly. Rin was alive, home, the trial was over, and Shiro himself would be demoted. But… Rin was alive. It was something he wouldn't forget, something he would be always grateful to Mephisto for. Without his silver tongue, he wasn't sure what would have happened.

"What the fuck happened out there?" Shiro's voice was less angry as the adrenaline from the trial faded and he caught Mephisto's gaze. The demon, as always, looked as if he had been expecting his visit. Though, instead of sitting behind this desk, as he usually was whenever they had something serious to discuss, he was lounging on the far end corner of the couch at the center of his office.

"Well, if there was ever a chance for a reconciliation between you and Angel, it certainly doesn't seem to be happening any time soon," Mephisto remarked with a dry smirk.

"I couldn't give a two goddamns about Angel and you know it." Shiro sighed heavily and he walked over. Temptation pulled him to slump into the couch beside Mephisto, to sit and rest his tense muscles, but he remained standing. "Amaimon again. He attacked me in the forest this time, Mephisto. I want to talk about him first and boy do I have a laundry list of conversation topics."

"He attacked you? Oh, dear." The revelation had Mephisto rising from the couch in a smooth movement so he could peer over Shiro for any injuries. Already, under the high collar of Shiro's uniform, he could spot the forming bruises coloring the priest's neck.

His eyes narrowed at the sight.

"I clearly let him off too easily," he muttered as he tilted Shiro's head to the side to get a better look at them, fingers threading through the other's hair. Shiro resisted the urge to lean into the touch.

"I didn't tell you that so you could fawn over me," Shiro grumbled quietly. "And he was pretty clear in telling me how much he wanted to kill me, but couldn't because you told him not to." He shook his head a bit and grabbed Mephisto's hand. "Point is, he wanted one on one time with Rin and he put me and Ryuuji out of commission for it. We need to do something about him. We can't put him off anymore. He's too dangerous, especially now with everything that's happened." He didn't want to think about the noose around his son's neck. Not yet.

"He shouldn't be a problem anymore," Mephisto said dismissively. He waved Shiro's grip off as he flopped back down on the couch. "I've got him locked away now and have no plans of letting him go until he's cooled off like a good boy."

"Not that I don't trust you, but I won't be satisfied until I can confirm that for myself." Shiro crossed his arms, looking at the spot next to him on the couch again.

"Suit yourself. Personally, I'm more concerned about what brought his attention to our problem child in the first place."

Shiro grimaced and rubbed his forehead. "Well, that's gotta be your dear old dad, right?" He sneered. "He's been getting more talkative too."

"...Oh?" Mephisto's eyes narrowed again as he gave Shiro another onceover, as if just by looking at him alone he'd be able to spot any sign of possession. "That is troubling to hear. He must be getting impatient." He let out an annoyed little 'tch'. "And just what has he been telling you? This isn't the type of thing you should be holding back from me," he said, his voice gaining a scolding tone.

"This is the first time I'm talking to you since the last one!" Shiro protested with a sigh. "He's just being insistent. Said it was only a matter of time." He grimaced. "I'm relaxing too much, Mephisto. It was harder to kick him out than it ever has been." His voice dipped low as if he was afraid of someone overhearing. Saying the words, remembering them… Shiro locked away the feeling of apprehension tightly behind a wall. There was too much going on to spare that any thought.

The admission was indeed troubling—but Mephisto latched onto the wrong part of Shiro's claim after tucking away that piece of information.

"Relaxing too much?" The demon's voice grew exasperated this time. "Please, don't pretend like that's something you actually know how to do." He looked personally affronted by Shiro's words.

"I've told you again and again to take better care of yourself, but do you ever listen?" As Shiro continued to show no inclination to sit down, Mephisto tugged him over, taking the option out of his hands. Shiro grunted, landing on the couch haphazardly with a leg splayed over Mephisto's lap. "You've been working yourself like a horse for far too long. That's been bad enough on you physically. I doubt the little rest you've had recently had little to do with this slip. Given Amaimon's presence, it's more than likely that it was a coordinated attack."

Shiro gave Mephisto a dubious grimace. "I'm taking care of myself just fine! Can we keep on topic here?" He pulled his leg back and slumped back into the couch. "Either he's getting stronger or I'm getting weaker. Or both." He rubbed his forehead. "And yeah, okay, so I haven't been sleeping well. It's not my damn fault."

"That has, absolutely, been entirely on you," Mephisto reminded him pointedly. "If it was up to me, you would have moved in here already. There's more than enough room for you and the kids here. In fact... if it really is getting as bad as that, I will have to insist on it this time."

"Huh?!" Shiro looked at Mephisto in shock. "Are you serious? No way. Not a chance. The kids are not living here. This place is a maze on good days and a death trap every other day. We're fine at the dorms."

"I disagree. And really, I've been polite enough to keep my distance, but it's time for me to start educating that boy." A snap of Mephisto's fingers had a metal ring that did not seem to be intended to be worn on any finger appearing in his hand.

"The timer's really ticking now. We have to put him through his paces and show the Vatican they've made the right gamble. Even more importantly, if Satan's knocking on your door so insistently, that's all the more reason to prepare him."

Shiro growled at Mephisto's words, feeling the familiar territorial rush roar in his chest. The thought of him moving himself and the twins under Mephisto's roof, under his thumb, was something he wasn't willing to contemplate. Putting Rin under his education was not something he wanted to consider just yet either. He wanted to yell, to say it wasn't Mephisto's business.

But it was now, wasn't it? Rin wouldn't be here without him. Shiro bit his tongue until he was sure the anger had subsided enough for him to reply reasonably.

"And what is that?" He glared at the metal ring in Mephisto's hand instead, directing his ire to it.

"Yet another condition added to his sentence. This is their insurance that "our weapon" remains under their control." Mephisto's lip curled as he gave the ring a distasteful glare. "He'll have to wear this at the base of his tail, which shouldn't disturb him all that much on a day-to-day basis. But with just a few words, he'll be subdued faster than he can blink."

"What?! Hell no!" Shiro snatched the ring out of his hand, looking it over. He inspected the runes and, after a few moments, recognized exactly what it was supposed to do. "Hell no!" he said again, more forcefully. Shiro glared back at Mephisto. "People are going to fucking abuse this, you know that, right? There has to be something else we can do!"

Mephisto let out a small huff. He returned Shiro's glare with some exasperation, as if he thought the other was being unreasonable. "I've done as much as I can. Our only way forward from here is to not give them any reason to doubt us. If you have any better ideas, please, share with the class."

He didn't have any better ideas. The realization just made Shiro's glare darken and he threw the ring sharply across the room. He crossed his arms, glaring at the opposite wall. "I'm not putting that on him. They're treating Rin like some wild animal."

"It's not entirely unfounded," Mephisto reminded him. He had, after all, been witness to how Rin had been like when he had completely lost control of his senses. Still, he grimaced with just as much disgust at the thought. "You'll have an easier time yourself calming him down if you need to at least." Another snap of his fingers had the ring teleporting from where it had landed on the floor to the coffee table in front of them. "Aside from, perhaps, someone paranoid like Angel, he'll probably be safe from harm. And once he passes his certification exam, I'm sure we can renegotiate this primitive precaution of theirs."

"I calmed him down just fucking fine without it." Shiro slouched further to kick the ring off the table with his heel like a petulant child. "He was only like that because Amaimon pushed him over the edge. He did the same thing in Sendai!"

"And I'm sure this won't be the last time he's pushed to that state, by Amaimon or whoever comes next." Mephisto shook his head. Shiro was being too narrow minded about the situation, as usual. "He needs to learn how to harness that power. Lighting up candles was a good attempt in getting his feet wet, but it's time to step it up."

"Then I'll ask Shura to train him again." Shiro looked at Mephisto for a long moment. His fingers tapped agitatedly at his arm. "How would you educate him?" He repeated his word from before with a bit of disdain.

"Obtuse is not a cute look on you," Mephisto replied dryly. "You're perfectly aware of how competent of a teacher I can be." The Demon King had, after all, taught Shiro more than just a few tricks during his exorcist training. "It's not a bad idea for Shura to take over some of his training. But not even she, nor you, will be able to handle him when he's using the full extent of his powers."

"Just because you taught me a couple things doesn't mean I know how you'll treat Rin!" Shiro snapped. "I'm not stupid." His previous thoughts began to well up and he took off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Rin's still too young for all this bullshit. He's just a kid and he's got a threat of execution hanging over him. He's being treated like a ticking time bomb, for God's sake." He let out a soft, frustrated growl. "And with my rank gone, I can't protect him." Shiro finally felt the full weight of helplessness sink into him. For the first time, Rin's fate, his safety, was out of his hands.

"So just, fucking humor me and tell me what you have planned for my son," he whispered, unmoving.

Mephisto's gaze softened. Those emerald green eyes roved over Shiro's face as if just with a look alone, he could read through Shiro's thoughts with pinpoint accuracy.

"I won't do to him what was done to you if that's what you're worried about," he murmured, shifting close, lifting his palm so he could cradle Shiro's cheek. The priest grimaced but didn't pull away.

"But I won't coddle him either," he continued. "He's not just any kid, and his circumstances aren't normal nor easy. If you want him to survive, we'll have to push him to grow a little bit faster."

A terrible thought rushed through Shiro's head, leaving as quickly as it came. Though he wanted to, he knew running wouldn't work. He was sure he still had a couple hideouts that were viable across the country, buildings still abandoned, places still deserted, but he couldn't run from Satan and if they were caught, Rin would be dead for sure. No, running was a terrible idea.

No other idea came in its place. Instead, the helplessness returned, heavier than ever on his shoulders. Shiro sighed, putting his hand on Mephisto's as he turned his face into his palm and closed his eyes.

"Let Rin train with Shura for a week or two before he starts with you. Let me just see if this'll work." Something. Anything. Any scrap of hope… There was a feeling in his gut that told him the moment he handed Rin over to Mephisto, something bad would happen. Was it unfounded? Was it just Shiro's anxiety? His fingers tightened around Mephisto's hand, pressing his face further into it as if hungry for a warm, soft touch.

"I suppose a couple of weeks won't hurt," Mephisto agreed in a low murmur. The pads of his finger slotted in a little deeper into Shiro's skin as he tugged him closer. "And you'll think about my other offer in the meantime?" The demon pressed their foreheads together. Not for the first time, Mephisto's heightened senses easily perceived the way Shiro's heartbeat fluttered, the way his breath slowed.

"I'd rather us work on this together than not, so I hope you won't be too difficult about this."

Shiro opened his eyes and looked into Mephisto's piercing gaze. He stared at them for a while, willing himself to be enveloped by the green color. As ever, a thin string of distrust always stopped him from giving in fully, but that string was weak and so close to snapping. Shiro's brow furrowed and he closed his eyes.

"Why… Why are you being so nice to me?" he whispered. "You never used to be like this. You always complained and bullied me. You pushed me around and made me work for things. You fucking…" Shiro gripped tighter to the demon's gloved hand. "You played with me. You always, always played with me and goddamnit, Mephisto, I had fun because I knew you. I knew it was all a fucking game between us. It was never going to be anything serious or anything soft or nice. I could go to you after everything and I knew… I knew what to expect from you but now…" He opened his eyes and looked back into Mephisto's, searching. What was he looking for? He didn't know, but there had to be something, some sort of answer. It bore into his chest like a stake.

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

The words hovered between them for a long moment. The silence was so still, it was as if the very air had been sucked out of the room by that question.

"...Is that how you've perceived this?" Mephisto's face was inscrutable, but the weight of his voice was heavier than usual. "Shiro... we've played this game for far too long, haven't we? We've both had our fun. Do you find it that strange that I'm not eager to see it end just yet?" These words, if anything, had Mephisto's fingers dig further into Shiro's cheek. The green in his eyes darkened.

Shiro's gaze focused, flickering from one green eye to the other. The meaning of his words wasn't lost on him but there was a part of him that couldn't accept it. Mephisto wasn't like that, was he?

Was he?

But staring into his eyes, he found no hint of a joke or tease. Mephisto was serious.

"Oh, Mephisto." Shiro's words came out on an exhale. "You're scared I'm gonna die, aren't you?"

The words were so grotesquely direct that they had Mephisto pulling back in a flash.

"Scared?" The syllable formed around the sneer shaping his curling lips. "Don't be absurd! As if I could be capable of feeling such a petty emotion."

The quick retreat spread a grin on Shiro's lips and he pushed his glasses back onto his face. A forbidden warmth curled in his chest.

"You are!" He leaned closer, putting his hands on Mephisto's face and turning his head back towards him. "You're scared~" He beamed, his voice taking on a teasing tone. Mephisto hissed, baring his teeth at him.

"What a ridiculous idea. Have you lost your mind?"

Shiro's mouth twisted in a smug smirk in a way that dared Mephisto to contradict him. "I'm more worried about you at this point. Have you gone soft on me?" He squished Mephisto's cheeks slightly between his palms.

Mephisto grabbed his wrists, pulling his hands away from his face, and glared at him coldly. "As if. You've completely misinterpreted my words. Should I dumb them down for you instead?"

"Hm." Shiro's smirk didn't fade. He remained where he was, only leaning closer by a few inches. "Humor me."

Shiro was so close that his breath hovered over Mephisto's face. The demon king's grip became vice-like. "I'll do much more than that, you insufferable man." He shoved Shiro roughly until the exorcist's back was flat against the couch before straddling him.

"Get this straight in that deluded brain of yours. I'm only stepping in as I am because you can't be trusted to go at your own pace anymore. It's become an inconvenience," he hissed.

Shiro's grin was as big as ever. A thrill of excitement, of victory, rushed through his chest as he met Mephisto's glare with every bit of confidence and arrogance as he'd possessed his entire life.

"You're cute when you're angry," he chuckled.

"And you could afford to be a little cuter for once," Mephisto snapped.

Shiro burst out in genuine belly laughter. It warmed him and eased his worries. This, he was used to. This was familiar. He couldn't help the warmth that lingered in his expression as he reached up to wrap his arms around Mephisto's neck and tug him down.

"How cute do you want me to be?" he murmured quietly.

Mephisto did not provide Shiro an answer this time, choosing instead to close the distance between them with an affronted huff. He sunk the razor-sharp points of his teeth into Shiro's lip rather harshly, sucking in the small droplets of blood that seeped from the wound.

Shiro's mouth opened easily for him, hissing slightly. The pain felt good. It felt nostalgic and urged him to curl his fingers into the demon's hair, messing up the impeccable hairstyle.

Did he see it right? Shiro's mind wandered without his permission. Mephisto's reaction had confirmed it, but he couldn't help but wonder if that was just another layer to a complicated lie. Shiro's brow furrowed as the warmth in his chest hardened slightly. He kissed him harder.

No, it wasn't a lie that Mephisto had been getting softer on him ever since he moved onto the campus with the twins. He couldn't help but remember those teasing remarks, the off handed questions of his health, the furrowed brow, the fussing touches… He felt that warmth melt again.

Shiro wanted to believe it.

He wanted to believe that after years and years of their "friendship," maybe he'd unwrapped another layer of Mephisto no one else but him could see. Even if it was just because Shiro was a human he enjoyed, he wanted to believe that Mephisto would be sad if he died. He wanted to believe that Mephisto wanted him to live.

Shiro's fingers tightened on the demon and he dug his teeth into Mephisto's lip in return, his breath leaving him at a staggered pace.

Ah.

As Mephisto tugged the clerical collar from his neck and tossed it aside, he tilted his head back. His shirt and coat were tugged open as Shiro's mind wandered to the sight of Mephisto's eyes. Maybe those dark eyes had been just a little crack of honesty from the demon. After all, even if demons couldn't feel guilt or love, Shiro had seen one too many demons flee in fear from his gun. He couldn't believe that Mephisto couldn't fear.

What was the first rule again?

Shiro closed his eyes as Mephisto's teeth grazed against his jugular. He swallowed against the points as his heart pounded. Though the teeth were sharp, they were always gentle to him in the spots where it counted. His fingers gripped tighter.

Who cares? Shiro smiled as he licked his lips, tasting the coppery sting of Mephisto's sweet affections.

See you next week for Until Next Time!