Chapter Two:
Izuku decided not take most of his belongings back to the castle. It would be easier to escape if he didn't have to smuggle a super-obvious giant pack out with him. He'd only used packing as an excuse to get out of that damn demon lair. He asked Koji to look after his bag, packed and ready to go at the first chance to run. It held his most valuable belongings: a sketchbook with his drawings of his mother as best he could remember her face, a dagger gifted to him by the elderly mercenary who'd taken pity on him as a child and given him his first fighting lesson, and a pressed flower a boy named Kouta had given him after Izuku had saved him from a rampaging demon. Of course, his money had been safely concealed in a hidden compartment. Izuku left most of his weapons as well, taking only his second-best sword. It went against his instincts to go unarmed, but he refused to risk his favorite sword being taken away from him. Weapons wouldn't do him any good against a demon lord anyway.
Afterward, Koji and Neito helped him gather some ripped and bloodstained clothing from other mercenaries who'd planning to throw it out. They packed the decoy clothing into a tattered satchel with a hole on the end. Izuku had to carry the bag with both arms under it to stop anything from spilling out.
Just as they finished, Ibara and Itsuka rushed into the room. "I brought you all my holy water," Ibara said, shoving it into his pack.
Izuku knew holy water had no effect on demons, but Ibara knew that, too. She probably just wanted to feel like she could do something. "Thank you," he said, shifting his arms to stop a motheaten sock from falling out.
"I packed food for you." Itsuka placed a sandwich on top of his pack. "I'm sorry I ever defended demons."
Neito rolled his eyes. "Please, he's going to become a prince, not get eaten." He hissed to Izuku, "You'd better run before she starts crying."
Itsuka smacked him over the head. Behind her, Koji teared up.
Izuku sniffled. He'd be the first to unleash the waterworks if he didn't go right away. "I'll see you all again soon," he said, willing it to be true. "You'll barely have time to miss me. No one start the drinking games without me."
As Izuku stepped outside to meet his escort (his captors), Victor stopped to stare at the men in royal uniforms. The brown-haired mercenary's eyes widened with awe and covetousness. Victor was a middle-class demon, barely a step above the unintelligent low-class demons in demonic society. If Victor had any rank, he wouldn't work for a mercenary troop led by a human. Izuku tried not to have a problem with Victor by telling himself that at least feeding on the souls of those he killed in battle was more honorable than most demons, and Victor was too young to have murdered Inko. But Victor constantly picked fights with Izuku, finding his half-human heritage offensive.
Victor sneered. "It's about time you finally got thrown out. You wouldn't exist if your father had the wits to finish his meal of your mother. If you're being executed, I want to watch—"
One of Izuku's guards threw Victor to the dirt in the blink of an eye. The demon bellowed, "How dare you insult Prince Izuku?" His sword plunged down.
Izuku slammed into the demon guard from behind, causing the sword to go into Victor's shoulder instead of his heart. "What the hell kind of overreaction is that?"
"I apologize if I've upset you, Your Highness." The demon dropped to his knees and bowed his head. "Next time, I'll take care of such filth out of your eyesight."
"Don't kill him at all! He's just a common asshole!" Izuku groaned and pinched his forehead. "Let's get out of here before his friends show up." He left Victor moaning in the dirt. He didn't care enough to do anything past saving the demon's life. But he took this as a valuable lesson: he needed to be very careful not to let his situation cause those around him to get hurt. If he made a wrong move, it might be a member of his squad on the wrong end of a demon's sword.
Hisashi waited back at the castle. Izuku had hoped for a few demon-free moments, but such was not to be. He schooled his face into an imbecile expression.
"Leave us," Hisashi ordered the guards.
They saluted and barked together, "At your command, All for One!"
"Who is All for One?" Izuku asked, playing dumb.
Hisashi said, "It's my title granted upon my coronation as Demon Lord of Greed. Only a few demons in history have had their greed acknowledged with that particular title, which means—"
Izuku interrupted, "You call yourself All for One? But it doesn't make sense. You can't be both All and One. It's an oxy—oxy—something." He knew full well the rarely granted title denoting ultimate greed was a huge source of pride for the demon lord.
"Do you mean oxymoron? I'm referred to as All for One. Because this world will belong to me." Hisashi's cheerful tone didn't yet falter.
This time, Izuku didn't need to fake his disgusted look. "Did you hit your head, my lord? You should see a doctor. I've lost dear friends to one wrong knock on the head."
"I hate how you went through such danger." Hisashi sighed. His wings raised in anger. Unfortunately, he'd gotten distracted from Izuku's attempts to be annoying. Perhaps that was for the best. Izuku was walking a fine line between being obnoxious and obsequious. The former came more naturally to him, but according to Captain Yamada, the latter would be more helpful.
Izuku beamed. "Don't worry yourself, my lord. Everyone says my skull is as thick as a tree trunk." He knocked on his own head.
"Their tongues should be ripped out."
"It's a compliment." Izuku brayed a donkey-like laugh.
"It's an insult, little one. I'm sure you'll be much better off away from those miscreants…and develop better manners. What did you bring back?" Without asking for permission, Hisashi took Izuku's bag from his hands. His nose wrinkled at the stench rising off the ripped and torn clothing.
Izuku smirked. Demons were supposed to have a more sensitive sense of smell, and he hoped his would-be father had gotten the full impact of a mercenary troop's worth of dirt.
"You wear these…rags?" Hisashi swayed as if he might faint.
Izuku shrugged. "They've always covered my private bits well enough to stop me from being arrested for public indecency, my lord."
Hisashi shook his head. "This won't do. I'll have these abominations burned." As Hisashi handed off the pack to a servant, Izuku felt relieved that he'd had the foresight not to bring back anything actually important to him. "Sweet Greed, this bread is stale. It will make you ill!" Hisashi added Ibara's sandwich to the pile to be burned. Izuku felt a bit of regret at losing that. Hisashi turned around and extended his hand. "Let me take your sword as well."
Izuku stepped backward. "I'd rather you didn't."
"But you don't need to fight any longer, little one. You're safe here."
"I feel safer with a blade of steel at my waist, my lord."
Another servant stepped forward, holding a black silk kimono. Hisashi said, "It was short notice, but I adjusted one of my own kimonos to fit you. Isn't this so much better than those rags you were wearing?" He beamed, no doubt expecting praise for his expensive gift.
Instead, Izuku said, "That looks like a dress. I'm not a girl."
The servant gasped. With forced patience, Hisashi said, "It's the traditional formal wear of the House of Greed." He unfolded the kimono and held it up. "Look at the gold thread! The shimmering material!" He turned the garment to show the golden dragon on the back. "If anyone but a member of our house wore this, they'd be executed in a slow and painful fashion. Among the living, only you and I are privileged to wear this symbol."
Resisting the urge to laugh at the pinched look on the demon lord's face, Izuku crossed his arms. "It looks like a dress to me."
"But…it comes with pants." Hisashi held out the hakama pants.
Izuku fake-gasped. "A girl's skirt! Milord, are you into…dressing up like that? Not that I judge. It takes all types."
"No, no, they're pants." Hisashi fluffed out the baggy pants so it became more obvious they had two legs.
Izuku felt a gleeful desire to see how much bullshit this demon lord would swallow. But he remembered Captain Yamada's advice: no direct defiance, such as refusing to wear the clothes. Act like a simple rube. Simper and scrape. "My lord, it looks too fancy. I'd be scared to wear something so fine, with me so dirty."
Hisashi said, "Naturally, I've already prepared a nice, hot bath for you."
Izuku shook his head frantically. "No, no, I've already bathed this month."
"This month?"
"Don't you know that it's unhealthy to bathe more than once a month? Why, I might catch a deadly cold! Please, my lord, I don't want to die!" Izuku knew mercenaries who actually believed this, which would make his lie more convincing. For good measure, he spat on the floor. He enjoyed how the demon lord flinched whenever he did that.
Hisashi closed his eyes and moaned. Then he stepped forward to grab Izuku's shoulders. "Oh, you poor child."
Although his strategy seemed partially effective, Izuku had hoped less hygiene would keep the demon lord further away. He cleared his throat. "Kindly let go of me, my lord."
With a disheartened look, Hisashi stepped backward. "The bath water won't hurt you, little one. Lowly peasants who bath in lakes and streams might become ill from the icy water during the winter, but the bathes in the palace are nice and hot." The demon lord spoke slowly as if to a child, but Izuku supposed this time he'd been asking for it.
Izuku widened his eyes. "Please don't make me get in the water, my lord. I'm scared." He'd always been an easy crier, but he'd suppressed his waterfall tears since joining his first mercenary company to avoid mockery. Though he was rusty, he could summon a few tears on command.
"Call me Dad, my cute little treasure." Hisashi brushed away the tears from his eyes. "I'll help you take a bath so that you see it's not scary."
Wait, the demon couldn't possible mean—before Izuku could finish that thought, Hisashi seized his shoulders. With a touch of magic, the world blurred and they reappeared in a bathroom large enough to contain a peasant's cabin. Gold framed the mirrors and the paintings on the wall. There was a silver chandelier with real candles overhead. What kind of lunatic put a chandelier in the bathroom? Izuku could have fed his entire home village with this much precious metal. The huge porcelain tub could fit several people. It sat on a bed of black rocks. Steam rose off the water. Izuku had been lying about fearing bathes before, but damn that looked hot enough to scald his skin.
Hisashi reached for Izuku's shirt. "We'll have you clean in no time, and then you'll be even cuter."
Izuku clutched his arms around his shoulders. "You are not giving me a bath! I'm not a toddler!" Belatedly, he added, "My lord."
Hisashi tilted his head. "But you won't know how to get yourself properly clean."
"Let me try by myself," Izuku said from between clenched teeth.
"Very well, but don't be afraid to call me for help." Hisashi pointed at the shelf. "That's soap. And that's shampoo. You put it on your hair. Make sure you massage it into your scalp." He continued to give patronizingly detailed directions.
When Hisashi finally left, Izuku had no choice but to scrub himself thoroughly clean. Otherwise, he was afraid he'd find out that demon lord hadn't been bluffing about bathing him like an infant. Izuku only turned his head away for an instant, and no one else entered the room, but somehow his clothing vanished, replaced by the princely kimono.
His sword had been taken as well. Izuku had suspected he wouldn't be allowed to keep that, but it still stung. He'd make his so-called dad pay for stealing his only weapon. He'd taken that sword off Muscular's corpse personally. It had fond memories.
Hisashi probably believed that Izuku would wear the ornate clothing if he had nothing else. His demonic dad was in for a surprise.
Izuku strode out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist.
Hisashi snorted so hard he choked. "Little one, didn't you see the clothing I left for you?"
Izuku crossed his arms. "I'm not wearing a dress."
"It's not a…" Hisashi closed his eyes. His lips moved, counting to ten. Then he forced a smile. "Look at me, do I look like I'm wearing a dress?"
Izuku said, "Yes."
Hisashi's smile faded. "How about I help you put on your clothing? Wouldn't that be nice?"
"If you try it, I'll scream. I'll shout to the whole castle that you're a pervert dressing me up like a girl against my will." Izuku let his arms go limp like sacks of flour. He knew it would be harder to force him into the clothing if he played dead.
Hisashi groaned. Then he waved his hand. A golden silk doublet, the fashion of Izuku's home kingdom, appeared with matching pair of pants. "Will you wear this? Please?"
Izuku had forced the demon lord to plead already. At this rate, he'd be back home with his troop by the end of the week. He barely restrained himself from smiling. "It's awfully gold looking. Kinda like metal. Can you wear metal? At least it's not a dress, though." Izuku would have hammed it up even more, except his ass had gotten chilly. "I'll take it."
As they walked down the hall, Izuku fidgeted in his clothes, pretending to be uncomfortable. He tugged at a loose thread on his sleeve. He'd noticed that Hisashi twitched whenever he did that. At this rate, Izuku hoped to pick out the embroidery and maybe create a rip within the hour.
Hisashi opened a golden door. "I've prepared a bedroom for you. It was short notice, but we can decorate more to your taste later. It will be our first father-son project."
Izuku refrained from rolling his eyes by force of will. "Gosh, my lord. Who will I be sharing with?"
"Sharing?"
Izuku waved across the bedroom. Half a dozen pillows overflowed from the golden bed. More gold gleamed off the end table, wardrobe, desk, dresser, mirror, and armchair. "This is far too big from one person, my lord."
"This room is all yours. The least a son of Greed could expect."
"But I'll get lonely if I'm all by myself in such a big place."
Hisashi's eyes gleamed. "Of course, I could stay with you—"
Mission failed. Time to retreat and regroup. Izuku interrupted, "Can I have a pet to keep me company? I want a pig."
Hisashi swallowed. "A pig? Uh, my treasure, pigs are food, not pets."
"Pigs are very intelligent creatures." It was true, making it easy for Izuku to sound earnest. "They're so warm, they make great sleeping companions."
"My son does not sleep with pigs." Hisashi drew himself up to his full height. "I will find an appropriate pet for you. You'll like it far more than a pig."
Izuku didn't want a living creature in his care. He'd been hoping his father would simply forbid pets. This line of conversation had failed him, so he tried a different one. "What are those things?" He pointed at the bookshelf.
Hisashi immediately perked up, his smile returning. "I brought some of my favorite childhood books for you. Oh! I know you'll just love them!" He flitted over to the shelf and pulled out a book with a green cover. He held it up, showing the picture of a demon standing back to back with a human man holding a sword. The demon wore a crown, and the human had his hair in a topknot. "A Stranger's Sword was my favorite book when I was your age. Even now, it still holds a special place in my heart."
Izuku said, "I can't read."
Hisashi froze. He looked as if someone had told him that he had two months left to live. "You…can't read?"
Actually, Inko had taught Izuku to read. It was a rare skill for a human peasant, one he'd used to move up in the ranks as a mercenary. (And then frequently get demoted because he attracted oodles of trouble, but that was another story.) Izuku said, "Most of my sort can't read, my lord." He spat on the floor.
"But you're not a peasant!" Hisashi shook his head. "I'm so sorry that you had such an upbringing. I'll find you a tutor at once."
"I dunno, my lord. Books scare me."
"Books…scare you?"
Izuku nodded vigorously. "They're full of witchy nonsense."
"Are you interested in magic books?" Hisashi asked hopefully. "Your room has several."
Izuku leapt backwards. "Ahhhhhh! Are they cursed? I don't want to be cursed."
"You're a member of the House of Greed. Nothing here will harm you, my dear child. If someone else opened one of these books, they'd be in for a nasty surprise."
"I'd rather not stay here, my lord. All your talk of witchcraft gives me goosebumps. I don't know how I'd sleep with all those heavy things looming over me, looking about to fall off the shelves onto my head. I never met a book that had more use than wiping my ass."
"The treasure trove of Greed…used as toilet paper?" Hisashi looked ill. "I'll prepare another room at once!" The demon lord rushed out the door.
Had Hisashi really just left him alone? Izuku tried the doorknob. It was unlocked.
But Izuku knew that he couldn't get out of the palace, much less the territory of Greed, if the demon lord didn't allow it. If he ran, then he'd be as big a fool as he was currently pretending to be. No, he needed to persuade Hisashi to lose interest in him first. He'd already made great progress. Worry lines looked permanently embedded Hisashi's forehead, and it was only the first day. Soon, the Demon Lord of Greed would see that having such a son would only embarrass him.
Minutes ticked by. Stuck in his pretty cage with nothing to do, Izuku became unbearably bored. He eyed A Stranger's Sword. The books might be taken away soon, which he'd asked for, but he still felt regretted the necessary loss. He'd never seen such a huge collection of books in his entire life. They tempted him. He was all alone. No one would know if he read a few pages. He would listen carefully for anyone coming.
The door had no lock from the inside. (Of course it didn't. Damn creepy demon lord.) Instead, Izuku stuck a pillow on top of the doorknob so it would fall if anyone tried to enter the room, giving him a warning. Then he sat down in a velvet-cushioned armchair and started reading.
The book told the story of a human from another world transported into the demon realm. Izuku found the premise far-fetched, but he couldn't help feeling sympathy for the main character, given his own current situation. He laughed as the samurai mouthed off to demons. He gasped when the mysterious stranger was revealed to be the local demon lord. By the time the samurai snuck into the demon lord's palace looking for a way to return home, Izuku was completely hooked.
He became so engrossed in the novel that he didn't hear a pillow hit the floor.
Hisashi said, "You know how to read."
Izuku flinched. Busted.
Hisashi's son had been faking it. How had he not realized before? The spitting on the floor and the kimono as a dress had been a tad too far.
Part of Hisashi was relieved that his dear only child wasn't an imbecile. But another part felt terrified. Izuku wanted to be rid of his father so badly that he'd sacrifice his dignity. Not only that: Izuku had the maturity to think up a clever strategy to escape from him. Instead of childishly protesting or trying to run, he'd carefully created a barrier between them.
Izuku did not need a parent. There was no parenting left to be done. His childhood had ended early and a long time ago.
That meant Hisashi had failed as a father.
A great, yawning void rose up inside Hisashi. His head spun. He wanted to transform into his draconic form and rip apart the entire castle in his fury and grief.
Izuku was speaking, in that same unbearable simpleton voice. "Oh, no, my lord, I don't understand a word of it. I just like to look at the letters. They're so pretty."
Hisashi chortled. "Ah, what an adorable joke you played on me, little treasure. You had me completely fooled. I don't mind admitting it. I have no shame in losing to my own son."
Izuku stared with wide eyes. "My lord?"
Hisashi reached out and ruffled his hair. Izuku truly was cute. His hair was fun to muss, just like Yoichi. "You might as well call me 'Dad.' Give up the fake flattery. I know what you've been doing."
"My lord, I don't understand—"
Hisashi spoke over him. "But now the joke is over. I think it's time for the two of us to be honest with each other, hmm?"
Izuku locked eyes with him. Slowly, the half-demon nodded.
"What do you want?" Hisashi asked.
"I want to go home. Back to my friends, the Present Mercenaries."
The words shot an arrow straight into Hisashi's heart. But he didn't let his smile falter. "I can give you so much more than your old life, treasure. Wealth and power beyond your wildest dreams. You'll never need to fight again. You'll be safe and happy."
Izuku said, "I was happy before."
That couldn't be true. No one would be happy sleeping on the ground and living among filthy human peasants. Hisashi's smile faltered slightly. Surely Izuku didn't understand what his father had to offer him. He'd come around after he became accustomed to royal life. "How about you give me a chance? Please try, just for a few days. We can get to know each other, and I can show you my domain." Hisashi couldn't quite bring himself to say that he would let Izuku go afterward if he wanted to leave. It would be a lie, and as such would taint any attempt to form a real bond between himself and his son. Besides, Izuku was too smart to believe it.
In a measured tone, Izuku said, "Yes, my lord." His face held no emotion.
Hisashi's heart broke a little more. Izuku was carefully and diplomatically putting distance between them.
But he'd still said yes. Under duress, and it hurt Hisashi beyond words that his long-lost son only wanted to run from him. But in that agreement, there lurked a sliver of opportunity. Hisashi would shower Izuku with the love, care, and parenting that he'd long been denied. Since Izuku had lost his chance to be a child at a painfully young age, surely that would be the greatest gift that Hisashi could offer him.
Hisashi would give his son the ideal childhood that he'd never gotten himself. Izuku would come to understand and feel grateful. He would adapt and start acting more his own age. In time, it would be as if Hisashi had never lost his darling son. Everything would be perfect.
It had to be.
OMAKE TIME!
Omake: All Demonic Troops Will Wear Nose Plugs for the Invasion
Hisashi: There's a human kingdom where people believe that you should only bathe once a month. I'm going to burn it to the ground.
Poor Hapless Minion: Are you serious, my lord?
Hisashi: I'm also slaughtering them because they abused my son as a child, but yes, quite serious about the bathing stupidity.
#
Omake: In Which Izuku's Smart Mouth Gets Him Caught Early
Hisashi: Do I look like I'm wearing a dress?
Izuku: Of course you're wearing a dress. Aren't you a woman? I thought you must be my long-lost mother! You're so pretty!
Hisashi: Nice try—now I know you're faking it.
#
Omake: Passing Like Ships in the Night
Hisashi: I'll give you anything you want, my beloved son. Just say the word, and I will conquer kingdoms for you.
Izuku: Uh…could you step backward a little bit? You're in my personal space. My lord.
Hisashi: (Internally) He's-not-calling-me-dad-he's-not-calling-me-dad-I'm-a-failure-at-everything-I-ever-wanted-to-be.
Hisashi: (Chortling) Yes. Yes of course. Anything for you, my son.
Izuku: Ha-ha. I just remembered I have something urgent to do right now. Sorry! Have fun being yourself at a significant distance away from me!
Author's Note: Victor is a minor member of the League of Villains who I recruited as cannon fodder. After he realized he bullied the son of the Demon Lord of Greed, he experienced a mental breakdown, got converted by Ibara, and fled to a distant country to become a monk. Frankly, that's a much better ending than he got in canon, so he should be grateful for his brief cameo.
