Chapter Five:
Hisashi had insisted on blindfolding Izuku to take him to the ceremony, for some mysterious reason known only to the eccentric demon lord. Izuku stumbled up the mountain path, his father's hand guiding his back. In truth, he stumbled more often than necessary, stepping on Hisashi's toes twice. Izuku was in a bad mood. He didn't want an adoption party. He didn't want to be adopted at all, but no one cared about that.
"Almost there," Hisashi said encouragingly. "If you're having trouble walking, then I could take on my dragon form and carry you."
"I'm fine, my lord." Shuddering at the thought, Izuku decided against stepping on Hisashi's toes a third time.
The ground flattened. Hisashi led Izuku to a comfy seat and pushed him down into it. The demon lord began, "This grand occasion ought to be marked by a formal ball with guests from around the demonic continent, but I still must keep your existence concealed from the other noble houses. As long as you remain untransformed, you're vulnerable, youngling."
Magic protect me, he's started monologuing, Izuku thought. He strongly suspected that his father would also be embarrassed to publicly acknowledge him. Children were a status symbol among demonic nobles. An untamed half-demon child would reflect poorly on Hisashi.
Hisashi continued, "Only Tomura and I can currently know of your existence and thus share this moment with you."
The servants all know, but I expect they're barely people to you, Izuku thought sourly.
Hisashi said, "To compensate, I have prepared a special surprise." He whipped off Izuku's blindfold.
Izuku stared straight at a nighttime mountain gorge. In the total darkness, he did not know what he was supposed to see. The full moon cast faint light on the treetops. "Uh, very impressive?"
Moving behind the chair, Hisashi put his hands on Izuku's shoulders. "Wait for it, young one."
As Izuku watched, a shadow fell across the moon, gradually eating it away.
Izuku swallowed. "Very impressive," he said in a shakier voice, desperately hoping his father hadn't just destroyed the moon as an adoption present.
Hisashi hummed, a sound of contentment. "It's a lunar eclipse. I burned through magical power and several valuable artifacts from my hoard to create this tonight, on your rebirth."
"That sounds like power that would have been more useful elsewhere," Izuku said.
"Nonsense!" Hisashi spread his arms wide. "You deserve every noble in the realm dancing in attendance and pledging loyalty to you. But since you cannot yet have a formal ball, instead, tonight the moon itself belongs to you."
"I'd rather have a stiff drink," Izuku said.
Hisashi laughed, although that certainly hadn't been a joke. "Keep watching."
After the moon had been consumed by darkness, it began to reappear again, except this time blood red. Hisashi chuckled. "It's beautiful."
"It is," Izuku admitted. Hopefully his father hadn't caused serious damage by rearranging the cosmos for his unwanted party.
"Does it make you happy?" Red eyes bore intently into Izuku.
When Izuku's mother had still been alive, she'd read him a fairytale about a king who summoned jesters across the land to make the princess smile and killed them if they failed. Izuku felt trapped in the same story. He had no doubt someone would suffer for it if he failed to show proper gratitude. He forced his lips upward. "It's wonderful. I can't believe you did something like this." The last part was true, at least.
A rumble came from the back of Hisashi's throat, almost like a purr. "I would do so much more for you, my child." Hisashi clapped his hands. "Tomura, bring the gifts."
Tomura wheeled a three-tiered cake forward. Out of the side of his mouth, he whispered, "I purchased it from my favorite bakery. There's a layer of rum cake made with the strongest alcohol. Don't tell Lord Hisashi."
Izuku smiled more sincerely. "Thanks, cuz."
While they ate, Hisashi kept pulling forth more and more gifts from some strange portal. Everything from books to clothing to chests of jewels spread across the clearing. There was too much stuff. Izuku appreciated the books, but he had no idea what to do with a solid gold statue of himself or an amethyst double his height. "Where am I even going to put this?" he asked.
Hisashi said, "Naturally, I've constructed a treasury for you. This will be the start of your hoard."
Izuku snorted. "A dragon hoard? Don't be ridiculous. I'm a half, remember?"
"It's your birthright. Someday, you'll be able to change as I can."
Izuku flinched. "You promised that you wouldn't transform me."
"Even without the full demonic transformation, you should already be able to shapeshift," Hisashi insisted. "You're the heir to Greed. We possess far more power than most demons. Do you feel anything, looking at this?" He stuck his hand into the chest and pulled out a fistful of jewels.
Izuku felt like all that money could be put to use somewhere better than sitting under a dragon's ass. "You could replace those with colored glass, and I'd never know the difference."
Hisashi recoiled. "Your instincts would know!"
Tomura said dryly, "He's teasing you again, Lord Hisashi. Any mercenary learns to recognize fake currency. People try to cheat them often enough."
Izuku laughed. "You've got me there."
His brief moment of merriment vanished when Hisashi brought forth the adoption papers. Izuku couldn't read Old Demonic. He could only hope his father hadn't lied to him about the contents. On the other hand, the demon lord could freely break any deal made with him anyway.
The contract had no magical power. Izuku could still run away later, no matter what it said. He signed.
Hisashi beamed. "This treasure is going straight to the most secure part of my hoard." With a flick of his fingers, the papers vanished. Hisashi pulled Izuku into a hug. He whispered, "You should call me 'Dad' now. Just like how you call Tomura 'cousin' or 'cuz.'"
Izuku got the threat. He'd rather switch to calling Tomura by his first name than call this asshole demon lord his father, but that would provoke retaliation. "Fine. Dad."
The flatness of the address went completely over Hisashi's head, or else he ignored it. He pulled Izuku tighter into a hug, until Izuku felt like he couldn't breathe.
Once back in his chambers, Izuku ripped off his constricting kimono. Everything he wore had so many layers these days. He'd kill a man just for the chance to steal some regular pants off the corpse.
By this point, Izuku had realized that he wouldn't be convincing his father to lose interest any time soon. He touched the cat charm hidden around his neck. But he couldn't bring himself to get Captain Yamada's friend into trouble. Neither of them had anticipated exactly how clingy Hisashi would be. Most demon lords wouldn't have so easily made a bastard half-breed into their heir. Izuku knew if he tried to run, he'd bring too much pain and trouble down on anyone who helped him. Besides, he couldn't bring himself to abandon Tomura. This would be his life for the foreseeable future.
He called a servant and ordered him to take the giant amethyst and give it to the woman who he'd saved from the wyvern at the start of this whole ordeal. It was a small, meaningless gesture. A drop in the bucket compared to all the poor people spread throughout his father's domain. But it felt like a tiny bit of defiance cast back into the demon lord's teeth.
Living in this place wouldn't change Izuku. He refused to let it.
Snow covered the ground and a chilly wind nipped Izuku's face…what little of his face was exposed, after all the fur scarves his father had wrapped him in. This made it silly that Hisashi had insisted on his son wearing makeup for the ceremony. The etiquette tutor had debated Izuku's outfit for weeks, yet it was covered by a heavy fur coat.
Izuku couldn't believe the seasons had changed so fast. He'd lived in the castle for nearly a year now.
Waving at the newly constructed school, Hisashi cried, "I've named this school after my son, Izuku, in testament to his generosity in creating this place." He dragged Izuku's hand up and waved it in the air.
Cheers came from the crowd. They praised the generosity of the prince. They vowed to fight in his name in the ongoing war. At least one person openly wept.
Izuku felt sick. He didn't deserve any of this praise. The locals ought to have had a school long before he got here, in a just world. It made him feel sick to hear people vowing loyalty to him and his father. He felt like a collaborator. Was he truly doing any good? Or was he just helping Hisashi keep the population placid and happy to hand over souls to him?
The mayor stepped forward and fastened a plaque with Izuku's name over the door. Then he sank to the ground in a grovel. Izuku longed to tell the man to stand up, but instead he inclined his head four degrees, the proper angle for someone so far beneath him. His tutors had drilled the etiquette into him.
Hisashi whispered in his ear, "Good job."
The praise left Izuku feeling cold inside. His demonic father must feel so happy that his son was no longer acting like a clumsy peasant embarrassment. He felt like a prized doll being shown off. Soon Hisashi would want to display him on a larger stage. Izuku's right hand clenched into a fist. He'd learned the proper manners, but he hated them. Who cared how far he inclined his head? But apparently if he'd bowed a single hair too far, it would convince the mayor that he was due for a promotion and then cause an incident later. It was all so silly.
At one time, Izuku had stood among crowds like these, mocking the overdressed bastards and their stilted ways. He wondered if someone among this faceless crowd was currently mocking him, with all the heavy jewelry hanging from his wrists and paint on his face. He hoped so. It would make him far more depressed to think that everyone here sincerely worshipped the demon lord who regularly claimed a tithe of their lives and souls.
With a cheer, the crowd turned and ran toward the wooden tables of food set up along the street. Hisashi whispered, "There will be alcohol at the feast. Remember, you're not allowed to touch it. Not after you nearly died during your last drunken debacle, before I showed up to save your life."
Izuku rolled his eyes. "For the last time, I did not nearly die, I was never in any danger from that harmless little brawl, and I'm not an alcoholic. Back in the day, I got blackout drunk far less often than the average mercenary."
Shaking his head, Hisashi said, "You used to run wild. You're lucky that I found you, so that I can protect you from now on. I see I'll need to stick closely to you during the feast."
As if the demon lord wouldn't have found an excuse anyway. Izuku felt grateful to the scarf, which let him hide his expression. Soft snowflakes fell down on his head and rapidly melted away. One landed on his eyeshadow and left a streak down the side of his face.
He left it there, but his father noticed and rubbed it away.
Hisashi had a skip in his step as he pushed open the door to the laboratory. Izuku's teachers had spoken very highly of his performance on his latest exams. They'd even called him a genius. His manners had been flawless at the school opening. The green silk kimono Hisashi had picked out had suited him perfectly. Now that Izuku had mastered formal manners (and mostly learned to keep his tongue under control) it might be possibly to introduce him to other demonic nobles soon. His son was finally blossoming into the prince he should have been all along.
Izuku bent over a microscope, so intently focused he didn't notice his father until Hisashi cleared his throat.
Without looking up, Izuku called, "Dad, come see this."
Willingly, Hisashi put his eye to the microscope as directed. The slide showed three red, green, and yellow lines. It took him a moment to realize what he was seeing. "This is about your theory that you can use diamond dust to separate out the ingredients in a sleeping potion?"
Izuku nodded, his eyes as bright as the emeralds in his father's hoard. "This proves that I was correct! Diamonds have a purifying element, that's well-known, but I believe they're underutilized when it comes to potions in particular—"
As Izuku muttered, Hisashi let the sound wash over him. He felt positively giddy. Of course his dear son would be a magic experimentation prodigy, just like his father. If only Izuku had been raised in the castle from birth, then he would already be famous across the continent. He'd made such great progress in only a year that he must surely be one of the brightest minds of his generation. And Hisashi was eager to each him even more. It was a nice, safe hobby—and far more socially acceptable than swordsmanship for a demonic child to show off in modern society.
Interrupting the stream of analysis, Hisashi asked, "Have you considered pearls yet?"
"Pearls? But they're not even gemstones. Ah, wait, they have reflecting properties! That might also serve the same purpose of separating—" Just like that, Izuku was off on another tangent.
Hisashi beamed. "A theory worth pursuing. I'll have fresh pearls delivered to you tomorrow. Oh, and you'll need a new microscope, new petri dishes, perhaps new mixing bowls as well."
Izuku said, "But I have all of those already."
"Can't I spoil my precious child a little?" Hisashi ruffled Izuku's curls. "I'm so proud of you. Only a genius could have gone from the basis to creating new recipes in a year."
Flushing, Izuku looked away. "I don't think I'm a genius."
"You got your brains from me, but not your modesty." Hisashi laughed. "After you've tried the pearls, let's talk more about the practical applications."
"I thought it could be used to obtain valuable resources from failed or expired potions."
"Then of course you'll need a few hundred of those for testing purposes. What kinds would you like?"
"Hmm. If I'm taking your hard-earned resources during wartime, Dad, then I need to make every last potion count." Izuku tapped his chin, then launched into a debate with himself about the pros and cons of each type.
Hisashi let it wash over him, because he'd already resolved to obtain one of every kind for his son.
Lately, everything had been going wonderfully. Their shared love of magical experimentation had finally given Hisashi a way to bond with his son. He felt like he knew Izuku better than ever before. Each day brought a new discovery. Izuku had signed the adoption papers of his own free will. Izuku even called him "Dad" now.
But something still nagged at Hisashi. It couldn't be the invasion of Pride's realm—that had been going as planned. Maybe it was because Izuku still hadn't agreed to the full demonic transformation yet.
Yes, that must be it. Everything was good, but it wasn't quite perfect.
"You want me to turn into a dragon?" Izuku gaped. He couldn't think of another response.
"Yes, that's what I said. Is there a problem with your cute ears?" Hisashi grabbed his son's ears and yanked on them. "Should I call a doctor to look at them?"
"You should call a doctor because my father has completely lost his mind." Izuku batted the hands away. Under his bravado, he felt a hint of weariness. Look, the next demand is coming. It never ended with his father. Pass a few lessons, and the difficulty increased. Call him dad, and he got pushier about the demonic transformation. It was a never-ending cycle that each time left Izuku feeling like a few more pieces of his old self had worn away under the patient, relentless potting wheel of a demon who had all the time in the world.
Of course, Izuku knew this dragon idea must be the first step toward pushing him to become a full demon. There was his bottom line. No matter what, he would never consume a soul. He wouldn't become like his mother's murderer. "We had a deal concerning the transformation. You agreed to leave the choice to me." Izuku glared, putting the full force of his fury behind his eyes. Cross me here, and the tutoring sessions, public appearances for your underlings, and discussions of magical theory all stop, Dad. Don't push your luck.
"Of course a demon lord would never go back on his word." Hisashi pouted, as if the stories weren't full of demons who did exactly that. "You're not a normal demon of mixed heritage. You're the son of the Noble House of Greed. You should be able to access your powers, even before a full transformation."
This sounded like bullshit. All the books said that only full demons could shapeshift, because it relied on the power from consuming souls. Izuku sighed. Everything had been going well lately. He'd almost started to relax. Now that his father had seized this idiotic notion, it would be his new passion for the next couple weeks at least. Maybe Izuku could pretend to go along with it, then distract his dad with an interesting new piece of magical theory. "I suppose you brought me out here to try?" He waved at the grassy field.
Hisashi beamed, all sunshine again, his moods shifting as rapidly as the blue-grey sky overhead. "I'm not sure how large your first transformation will be, but we'll have plenty of space."
He talks as if he's already succeeded. And Izuku certainly saw this as his father's success or failure, not his own. Under other circumstances, he might have been intrigued by the notion of swooping down on his enemies like a dragon, but he'd been through too many changes lately. He didn't want another one. Besides, his father would never let him use a draconic transformation for anything interesting or fun. He'd probably be forced to fly below the tree line at all times so he couldn't hurt himself. Izuku snorted at the too-real image.
Hisashi mistook this as a laugh. "Yes, I can imagine you accidentally blowing the roof off the castle when you transform, you little troublemaker. Our ancestors would throw a fit. Now, watch me." Hisashi's form blurred, then exploded in size. A massive white dragon with a mane of red feathers loomed over the small half-demon below. Hisashi had a long, slender body and small arms with sharp claws. His tail ended in a soft, sweeping fan of flaming red feathers.
Izuku said, "I watched, but that hardly taught me how to do it."
Tail lashing, Hisashi said, "It's less a skill and more an instinct. Have you ever wanted to fly? Of course you must have, all noble demonic children feel a longing for the sky. Visualize where you want to fly in your mind—"
As Hisashi launched into a long lecture, Izuku listened with only one ear. Most of his mind focused on his latest experiments with pearl dust. Eventually, Hisashi finished. Izuku nodded and said, "I'll try."
He couldn't do anything else. If he refused outright, then his father might take it out on Tomura. He didn't even dare show any negative emotion at the unwanted suggestion. Some days, that was what got to him the most. Not all the fancy clothing he was forced into or the endless etiquette. The way he couldn't even complain about it because if he did, his father might punish someone else in his place. With every fake smile, a little more of his real self died.
Izuku closed his eyes, although in reality he was measuring the amounts for his next experiment in his mind. Then he blinked and said in a mild voice, "I'm sorry, Dad, I don't think it's working."
Hisashi growling, shaking the leaves off the nearest tree. "You didn't properly try."
Why was his father so clueless when Izuku wanted a little personal space, yet so perceptive at times like this? Izuku said, "Fine, I'll give it another shot."
Closing his eyes again, this time Izuku visualized dragons. He didn't expect it to work, and in fact it was a relief when he didn't feel any sort of magical response. "I did try, Dad, I promise. Can we go?"
Hisashi crossed his arms. "Keep trying."
Izuku said, "I have a time-sensitive experiment at the laboratory. Would you like to hear about it?" His father always loved listening to his magical analysis. Honestly, those discussions were one of the few times that Izuku didn't find the demon lord to be insufferable.
This time, Hisashi wasn't moved. "I'll ensure that a servant looks after this oh-so-sensitive experiment that can't possibly wait a few hours."
Sadly, the downside to his father's knowledge was that he knew when he was being bullshitted. Izuku closed his eyes again. He made a few grunting noises for show. "I can't."
"It doesn't work because you don't believe you can transform."
Izuku glared. "How am I supposed to make myself believe something I don't?"
Hisashi said, "Believe in me, your father, when I tell you that you can do it."
Izuku rolled his eyes. "Is that a line from one of the children's books you love so much?"
Hisashi looked away, which meant Izuku was right. "If you truly accepted your position as heir to Greed, then you could do it."
Izuku scowled. "Maybe I'd have an easier time accepting it if you didn't keep pushing so much. I've acceded to all your requests about my schooling and manners. Can't you give me a break?"
Hisashi reared up, flashing his white belly and his claws. "This isn't a chore. This is a reward. The draconic transformation is one of the best parts of our heritage. Look at me!" He preened, the sun glinting off his scales. He looked impressive, Izuku had to give his father that. "I want to share something important to me with you." Izuku's heart almost softened, before Hisashi added, "I want what's best for you."
Izuku kicked the ground. "You want to change me, as usual."
"Into your best self!"
"Into a flying feathery boa!" Izuku waved at his father's draconic form. "You like something a fancy lady drapes herself with before heading out for a play."
As soon as the words left Izuku's mouth, he regretted them. He'd gone too far. Tomura would definitely be punished for this.
Izuku tried to backtrack. "It would be a high-quality boa, of course. Just look at those razor-sharp ruby feathers. Magnificent. Your teeth are so sharp. How do you clean them?"
With a huff, Hisashi shrank back down to humanoid form. Coldly, he said, "If that's what you think of your heritage, then no wonder you can't manage a proper transformation." He eyed his son. "Your hair doesn't look as lustrous as it could. Have you been properly using the shampoos I gave you?" He clucked his tongue. "You'd never be honest with me. I'll ask the servants to check the bottles. We'll have to change up your diet, too. Certain foods will better help with the magical flow. If you were better fed, you wouldn't have this problem. I'll fetch a cookie for you at once. You always feel more energetic after eating one of my cookies."
Izuku knew full well that his father was turning controlling in order to compensate for today's failure. He had a few choice words to say, but he still hoped he might be able to appease his father's wrath before it fell on Tomura. So he spoke in a distant but normal voice. "Whatever you think is best, Dad." He turned around and walked away before his father could see the look on his face.
His appeasement hadn't work. Izuku knew it as he stood outside his father's office, waiting to present the results of his latest magical experiment and overhearing the shouting from inside. Hisashi's voice rose on the insults: "Incompetent! Disgraceful! The money I spent on your education was clearly wasted—" Tomura's response was low and undecipherable, but Izuku caught the bitter tone.
Storming out of the office, Tomura kicked over a potted plant. He stomped on the leaves with savagery, as if imaging an enemy he could kill. Then he spotted Izuku standing in the hallway, and stopped awkwardly with his foot raised. Carefully, Tomura inched the pot upright using his shoe. Scratching his neck, he asked, "How have the magical experiments been going, cuz?"
Izuku sighed. "I'm sorry he yelled at you. It's all my fault."
Tomura winced. "Ugh, you heard? How could this be your fault? It's all because I've been slow breaking into Pride's capital."
Izuku shook his head. "No, you've been perfectly on schedule. Dad agreed to the plan to move slowly so we could trap Pride against the mountains during winter. If he had a problem, then he should have spoken up then. But he doesn't truly blame you—he was just looking for an excuse to yell at you because I put him in a bad mood failing at my draconic transformation. I hate it when he takes my perceived flaws out on you. I'm sorry."
Tomura shook his head. "Lord Hisashi wouldn't do that. He thinks I could have used our troops more effectively during the last push, and he's right."
"Do you think it was a coincidence that he called me here right before he lectured you? He wanted me to overhear."
Tomura snorted. "You're reading too much into it. Overthinking with that brilliant head of yours." He mussed up Izuku's hair. "Come to see me after the talk, and we can discuss strategy together. I need to make up for my mistake."
Izuku sighed and gave it up. Tomura idolized Hisashi too much to ever complain about his ill treatment, even though Izuku had tried to point it out before. "I'd like that. Our strategy discussions are one of the few times I don't feel like a useless doll."
Tomura frowned. "Your father only wants what's best for you. He's showering you with luxuries to make up for lost time."
"And I'm ungrateful. I know." Izuku stared at his feet.
"Nah, I didn't mean it like that." Tomura scratched harder. "Have you thought about letting him transform you into a full demon? Then he might become less overprotective. Besides, think of the extra speed and strength." Tomura's tone turned wistful.
Izuku winced. Even though Tomura didn't know it, his own transformation was dependent on Izuku doing so first. Seeing how badly his cousin wanted to become a demon, Izuku felt terrible. But no matter what other compromises he might accept, on this one point, he would never yield. "I'm sorry," he said, even though Tomura would also never believe that Hisashi was holding his own transformation hostage to force Izuku's hand. Not that Izuku had tried as hard to tell his cousin about this one. Selfishly, Izuku didn't want pressure from Tomura to transform too.
"This is still about the soul-eating?" Tomura frowned. "You've killed in battle before. How is it any different to consume the soul while you do so? Are you one of those religious types who think a soul goes somewhere after death, but can't if a demon eats it?"
Izuku shrugged. "I've never had any religion, but it still feels different to eat people. Besides, I don't plan to fight in battle constantly for the rest of my life. My father certainly wouldn't let me. Then what happens when I get hungry?"
Tomura said, "There are always prisoners."
"I'm not eating someone because they couldn't pay their taxes."
"What if you stick to prisoners of war?"
"Honestly, that would be outside my principles too. I don't want to kill someone who can't fight back."
Tomura nodded. "I get that. It makes me more uncomfortable, too. If you talked to your father, perhaps he'd let you feed exclusively in battle."
Izuku sighed. "If only my father listened to me as easily as you do. I'll be lucky if he lets me near a battle for the rest of my life."
"That's true." Laughing, Tomura clasped Izuku's shoulder. "Good luck in there."
"Thanks. I'll need it," Izuku grumbled.
Izuku's conversation with his father went as poorly as expected. Not surprisingly, the nosy demon lord had been eavesdropping on his conversation in the hallway with Tomura. Hisashi came prepared with extensive arguments about the ethics of soul-eating and the lack of proof of any afterlife. Izuku was in no mood to listen—he was furious at Tomura being used as a pawn in their quarrels yet again. Matters had quickly deteriorated into a shouting match. Izuku never got to explain his successful experiment.
Later, after his temper had cooled off, he decided to go show his father his results. A potion in his shoulder bag, Izuku went looking.
Izuku had started to be able to get a feeling for his father's presence by the scent of his magic. He followed the thick, heavy flow of power to a breakfast nook in the eastern tower. His hand raised, Izuku paused before knocking on the door. He only sensed one person's power, his father's. But he heard conversation coming from inside. He didn't want to interrupt if his father was with a guest. Just imagining all the etiquette behind introducing him made him shudder.
Hisashi said, "Of course you'd say that. You were never reasonable about eating souls, either. Sometimes Izuku reminds me too much of you. It scares me."
Izuku's ears perked up at the sound of his own name. Who would Hisashi speak so informally to, and about personal matters? His father held himself too far above other people to ever confide in them, much less admit fear and vulnerability. Curiosity roused, Izuku stood very still.
He heard no response from the other person. But Hisashi spoke again, as if responding to someone else. "Time? I've given him plenty of time! I'm trying not to make the same mistakes I made with you, Yoichi." A tea cup rattled. In a sharper tone, Hisashi demanded, "Who's there?"
Knowing he'd been caught, Izuku flung open the door. He wanted to see this "Yoichi" who his father was talking to.
For a brief moment, Izuku caught a glimpse of a thin young man with white hair falling over one eye. Then he was gone. Hisashi sat alone in front of a table spread with a tea pot and small cookies.
The scent of magic filled the air. But what kind of magic? Hisashi's guest could have teleported away or been sending a magical illusion of his form from a distance.
Raising an eyebrow, Hisashi demanded, "Did you have a good reason for barging in on me like this?"
Izuku didn't. He knew he was in for a rebuke about proper etiquette and deserved it this time. But his curiosity made him ask, "Who were you talking to?"
Hisashi said, "I was only speaking to myself. Come, sit down and join me."
But Izuku was certain he'd seen someone else.
Later, Izuku asked several servants if they'd ever heard of a "Yoichi" but the reaction he got bordered on terror. It quickly became obvious they'd been ordered to never speak of this person. Izuku couldn't figure out why it would be such a big deal that his high-and-mighty father had a friend like a normal person. Albeit, he still wasn't sure that was the correct explanation. Something more dramatic must have provoked such a strong reaction from the servants.
Izuku left off on his questions, not wanting to get a servant into trouble. But he headed to the library to do some more research.
In the hallway, his father popped out of the air. Hisashi looked disheveled. He'd even failed to fasten his yukata belt properly. He grabbed Izuku's wrist. "There's an intruder on the castle grounds. I must take you to safety immediately. Without waiting for permission, he teleported them.
In a blink, Izuku stood in a massive cavern. The floor had been covered with gold coins and jewelry. "Is this your hoard?" He was a little curious. He'd never seen a demon lord's hoard before.
Hisashi said, "This is the safest place in my possession. I'll return after the danger is gone." Then he vanished.
"Wait, what's happening—?" Izuku stopped talking since his father was already gone. He scowled. One intruder in no way, shape, or form justified locking him up in here! Izuku could take care of himself. One person would never invade a demon lord's castle alone, so he suspected this would all turn out to be a misunderstanding. His paranoid father was overreacting, as usual. This was more about Hisashi's own emotional needs to keep his "belongings" safe than protecting Izuku.
This place didn't even have a door, just jagged stone walls covered in glowing blue lichen. Izuku had no idea how long he'd be stuck in here, without even a book to read. His annoyance turned to anger. Hisashi had no right.
Izuku wanted to scream and beat the wall in rage. But if he did that, then he'd give his father further excuse to treat him like a child. Whereas if he did nothing, then Hisashi would take that as permission to continue pushing him around. There was a fine balance to be found here, possibly involving a spider left in his father's bed. But that was a future plan. At the moment, he was locked up in a fancy box.
Partly of boredom, partly curiosity, Izuku waded through the gold coins until he reached the wall. The shelves held treasures from bygone eras. A sword stuck in a stone had been draped with golden necklaces. A dozen dolls started dancing as he approached, then stopped moving after he passed. Bottles held glowing liquids. A book with a mouth on front had been chained shut. He poked a portrait of a king, watching as the painted man's eyes followed his finger.
Suddenly, Izuku remembered his father pontificating about keeping his adoption papers in his hoard. When he'd been forced to sign them, he hadn't been able to read Old Demonic. Now he ought to be able to understand a rough gist. He was curious if his father had been lying to him about what he'd signed. Certainly, he had nothing better to do except look.
Hadn't Hisashi said that he kept the papers in the most treasured part of his hoard? Izuku looked around. An area in the back of the cave had been surrounded by a purple curtain. A glowing orb cast a spotlight on the nook. If Izuku had been here as an adventurer, he'd have taken it as a trap, but his father wouldn't have stuck him in here with anything that would harm him. Hisashi had an insultingly low opinion of Izuku's survival abilities.
Izuku pushed his way through piles of gold to eventually reach the curtain. The inside was dark. If there was a light, he didn't know how to turn it on. He had to slog back through the coil floor outside and carry over some glowing lichen. Using the dim light, he sorted through the items on the shelves.
Whereas the outside shelves had held valuables, this place contained his test scores and his earliest magical experiments. Izuku wasn't sure if he should be touched or creeped out. The next shelf was full of childish trinkets: pottery, baby teeth, and drawings. His father's childhood relics? Strange, because Hisashi had always spoken of his childhood with disdain and an old pain. Hisashi had a malevolence for his parents that he usually reserved for the Number One Knight All Might and servants who failed to seep his tea leaves long enough. It seemed unlikely that he'd have a sentimental attachment to reminders of the time when he'd been weak and mistreated. But who knew what went on in the head of the average narcissistic demon lord? Maybe he considered these all relics of his future greatness.
Izuku's gaze lingered on a crude drawing of a demon with curly white hair and ram's horns holding hands with a much smaller white-haired child. Had his father once had another son? Why the hell hadn't he ever said so? Didn't Izuku have the right to know if he had a sibling? Hisashi had explicitly referred to Izuku as his only child on several occasions, making this a deliberate lie. Izuku's anger rose up, even hotter than he'd felt about being stuffed into a cave. He and his father would have words—loud, shouting words.
Then Izuku spotted a crystal box with papers inside, distracting him. From the emeralds, diamonds, rubies, and sapphires decorating it, he would bet this contained his adoption papers. Just like his father to be so extra. With a sigh, Izuku stood on his tiptoes and took down the box.
The poor light made it even more difficult to puzzle through a language he had only a rudimentary grasp of. Izuku looked twice, but couldn't find the word for transformation anywhere. Odd, because all demonic adoption contracts mentioned transformation.
Izuku started the more painstaking process of deciphering each word. He recognized his own name, "Izuku." But the suffix in front referred to him as a demon prince. There could be no doubt about it—even a beginner could tell that Old Demonic treated demons and humans very differently. No wonder there was no mention of transformation. Hisashi had written up this contract as if Izuku was already a demon.
His father must be ashamed of his half-breed son despite being so careful to never use that slur. Hisashi only ever referred to Izuku as having "mixed heritage." But this contract proved that Hisashi had always only ever wanted a demon son.
Izuku's hands tightened, ripping the edges of the paper. But he didn't care if his father noticed. He planned to scream his discovery into his father's face. His new fury had completely erased his old grudge from his mind.
Izuku slammed back the crystal box with a force that made the shelf rattle. Then he stalked for the exit. Except he accidentally went the wrong way, bumping his shin on something hard leaning against the wall. Swearing, he hopped away.
He'd run into a golden throne with a pair of horns rising over it. A shadowy figure slumped over from where Izuku had bumped into him. Izuku held his glowing lichen closer. It illuminated the face of a man with white hair falling over one closed eye. The same man who'd been having tea with Hisashi earlier that day.
Izuku leapt backward. "Oh, I'm sorry to disturb you!"
The man didn't move. The air reeked of magic, must, and formaldehyde. Stiches running up his chest to his neck betrayed the truth. This man was dead.
OMAKE TIME!
Omake: Eclipse Fallout
Izuku: I heard a lot fish died to due disrupted tides caused by the eclipse. I hope you're planning to mitigate any further issues.
Hisashi: That sounds like a human problem. All the environmental damage is proof of how much I love you.
#
Omake: This is Surprisingly Normal Even Among Non-Demonic Parents
Izuku: I don't need you.
Hisashi: Ridiculous! Of course you need me. Why, remember that one time you got blackout drunk? I'm going to hold that over your head for the rest of your life so as to deny your intolerable claims that you could ever survive without me.
Izuku: (Sighs.) I need a drink.
Hisashi: We just talked about this! Izuku no!
Izuku: Izuku yes. After my last birthday, I'm legally old enough even by demonic law.
Hisashi: I'm banning alcohol across the entire continent.
#
Omake: And This is Less Normal
Hisashi: I have perfectly captured the first moment where my son called me "Dad" on my crystal ball. I should stick recording crystals all over his room to preserve any future cute moments.
Izuku: All right, let's talk about boundaries.
Hisashi: B-boundaries? Why would those be necessary? Am I doing something wrong? Have I not been a perfect father?
Izuku: You need help. Preferably not from me. Take a step back, please, you look dangerously like you're about to hug me.
#
Omake: The So-Called Danger was Very Stupid
Tomura: I heard you got locked up in the hoard because a merchant showed up without a proper permit and Lord Hisashi thought it might be an assassin? Don't worry, he just forgot his paperwork at home.
Izuku: He locked me up in a room with my uncle's corpse for that?!
Tomura: He locked you up with what now?
Izuku: Yeah, apparently he's been holding tea parties with it. So that's a thing. My father is the reason why I drink.
Author's Note: Chaoticdeer has drawn the new cover art for this fic showing Demon King All for One and Izuku. Just look at All for One's terrifying hands! Magnificent! Delete the spaces to get the link:
chaotic-deerspirit.
tumblr.
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