Paved with Good Intentions
by surefall and aishuu
Disclaimer: Based on Prince of Tennis, by Konomi.
Part 5 Summary: In Which Glasses Are Fashionable and Blood is Spilt.



The college library was tall and stately, possessing six stories and five wings. Within its hallowed walls were all the books necessary for learning, research, and the pursuit of esoteric knowledge. Such writings as Computing for Quantum Physics Using Only a Pencil and a Slide Rule and Compton's Guide to English Literature from 1620 to 1950 with Excerpts from Bockman Guildenstern were a matter of course and obviously contributed greatly to the continuation of learning. It also had the greatest collection of useless knowledge and decrepit reading ever to exist in one place. Real books? What are those? That's crazy talk. Get thee hence, blasphemer!

The aura of imminent waste of paper and breathing space (and possibly the loss of life, consider Kirihara could kill him and stuff his body in the shelves and no one would know ... not even if he started to stink) was probably why Sengoku started choking as they approached their table. "Oh, help - gasp - can't -gasp - breath," he exclaimed while clutching his throat and dramatically falling face first onto a chair.

Kirihara glared at him, trying to ignore the dust. It made his eyes itch and go a bit blood-shot. He wasn't quite sure why he'd chosen to follow Sengoku after being dragged out of math class, and the library was one of his least favorite places. "Why are we here?" he demanded, tossing his backpack on the table. "You know just as well as I do that I don't need help with those equations."

"Oh, I know that, but I promised to tutor you on life, the universe, and well ... everything!" Sengoku hauled himself properly onto his chair, "And this is a good a place to start as any."

"I've always found academics are strictly lacking in the life department." The consequences of Sengoku's promise started to bounce around his mind. "You're not trying to redeem me by showing me the 'right way' are you? Because you're wasting your time. I like being evil and inflicting pain and misery."

Sengoku leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on the table. "Where do you keep getting this idea that I'm going to show you the right way?"

"Isn't that what you angels do?" Kirihara retorted. The table already had been vandalized by students of decades previous, and Kirihara pulled out a pen knife to add his own touch.

"You have a point there ... I guess I should make a token effort."

Kirihara's eyebrow twitched at the "token effort." He reveled in attention, and thwarting an angel's attempts to show him the light would have been a lot of fun. He considered stabbing Sengoku instead of the wood briefly, wondering if that would serve to finally bother the angel. "Whatever," he said. "Let's get this over with. I have a curse to perform at 8."

Sengoku hauled his legs off the table so he can sit up straight and prim. He even summoned up a pair of spectacles that looked suspiciously like Tezuka's, "Kirihara. You're a shameless sinner. You should come to the light of the all-knowing, loving god."

It was simply absurd. "Considered, rejected. That all?"

Finally allowed to fall back into his comfortable former position, Sengoku plucked the spectacles off and twirled them around on a finger. "Well, there's also the part where no one suspects the angels."

Kirihara couldn't resist asking. "Which side are you working for?"

"God's side!"

"Then I'm not interested. God is... good. Good is so boring...:" He finally managed to finish the first word. "Do you know Kamio's phone number?"

"God is the creator of the universe and everything in it ... as well as most of the stuff that entertains us." The glasses spun in the other direction, a glittering arc of light. "Me? How would I know Kamio's number? That would imply that I actually talk to him in my off time."

"What is it?"

"What will you give me if I tell?"

"You promised to teach me. Teach me that."

"Oh no, I promised to tutor you. That implies you know something to begin with. But I guess you're too young ... "

"I'm not too young!" Kirihara replied, his temper forcing him to rise to the bait.

"Sure you are!" Sengoku leaned over and pinched at Kirihara's cheeks. "You're a cute, baby devil!"

Kirihara's knife was suddenly flying, and even Sengoku couldn't react fast enough. The knife was at the angel's throat, and the demon holding it was irritated enough to use it. "I may not be able to kill you, but I bet I can make you hurt an awful lot."

Interest lit in green eyes and Sengoku smirked. "Then do it."

The knife traced along Sengoku's Adam's apple. It pricked him at the base of the throat, and Kirihara licked his lips. He hadn't hurt anyone in decades with his own hands, really. "I wonder how much you can take before you're forced to go back to heaven to recuperate."

"More than you're capable of dishing out, little demon," Sengoku purred.

Kirihara's eyes gleamed. It was a really stupid challenge, because he was quite capable of using every torture mankind had ever invented and a few they hadn't. to inflict serious damage. The knife slipped to the place right above Sengoku's shirt, as gentle as the touch of a lover, before Kirihara pushed it in lightly. A small bead of blood joined the first. "That sounds like a challenge-"

"Are you sure the book is on this floor, Kamio-kun?" a sweet, feminine voice asked as footsteps approached.

A flash of a smile and Sengoku slipped from Kirihara's grip, leaning back again in his chair. The blood smoked from skin that sealed seamlessly, vanishing into nothingness. "It's not a challenge. It's a fact, sweet thing."

"This is the history section, so I think it would be, An-chan." The sound of footsteps came closer.

Kirihara looked at the blood on his knife, then at the smooth skin on Sengoku's throat. That took a lot of power. He scowled before tossing the knife into one of those sub-space pockets that every demon utilized. "Later," he promised.

An-chan appeared around the corner first, a slim, compact girl with short honey-colored hair in barrettes. "Well, I thought I saw a book on computers back there a minute ago ... "

Sengoku waggled the glasses at him. "I look forward to it."

Kirihara would have said something, but at that time, Kamio appeared, trailing An. His expression turned a bit sour as he saw who was already there. "An... maybe we should look somewhere else."

Sengoku flashed them a smile, "Oh no, do keep looking! We could even help."

An smiled back at Sengoku, opening her mouth to accept his offer of assistance.

"Thanks, but I'm sure it's not here," Kamio said, before pulling An aside, and back down a different aisle. Their voices could be heard, slightly raised, as An protested Kamio's rudeness. "You don't know them! Trust me, if they 'help,' we'll never get out of here!" Kamio said.

Kirihara felt a bit ill. Seeing Kamio and An made him sick - literally. The couple radiated love, which was not anything a demon liked being around. "There's no way I'm helping them... unless it's to split them up."

"But that would make Shinji happy."

"There's no saying he'll end up with Kamio. If I split them up, all of them can be miserable."

"For a little while. Humans adapt so easily to their little miseries," Sengoku added, balancing the glasses on the tip of a finger. "Time heals all wounds and all."

"The trick is to make sure they're bitter about it. Misery is self-perpetuating."

"Provided someone doesn't come along and mitigate all your hard work ... "

"So, who do you choose? Keeping them together and leaving Shinji miserable, or taking the chance Kamio might fall in love with him?" Kirihara asked.

"Scilla and Caribdes," Sengoku grins, "Hmmm ... I choose that the Cowboys should win the Superbowl!"

Kirihara wanted to run his head into the table. Instead, he merely grabbed the knife from subspace and went back to carving an ad for people to call Kamio for a good time. "Is that all for today, senpai? I have souls I should be torturing."

"All? I've only just begun! But how can I start if you ask not the questions of the infinite?"

"The answer is 42."

"The smaller infinite."

"Sengoku, the answer is always ultimately 42. What do they teach you angels?"

"Okay ... so what's the question, then?"

Oishi was reveling in the pleasant breather. It was still relatively early in the evening, meaning that most of the college crowd hadn't arrived yet. Kikumaru was of the firm belief that the party didn't start until after 10 p.m., and since the clock wasn't even at 9, the incubus hadn't yet made his appearance. Since Kikumaru hadn't shown, Tezuka was off doing his own thing (probably in a church somewhere, making up for his lost praying time - he spent a lot of time in prayer, more than any angel Oishi knew), which meant Oishi was blissfully alone.

He knew he shouldn't feel so relieved that no one was trying to demand his time, but his life had recently become way too complicated. He had thought this was just going to be a simple assignment - show Ibu Shinji that there was hope, and that God would always love him, even if Kamio Akira never would - and hopefully keep him from trying to commit homicide. A few future projections had shown various scenes of carnage if Shinji continued along his current path, like the one involving the prime minister, a window, and a parade, which was all linked to voices in Shinji's head, but...

Oishi didn't want to think about it. Early intervention was the key, and he had been on the right track! Then Sengoku had led a demon right to him, and that had cued Kikumaru, which had led to Tezuka...

Was it any wonder if Oishi was seriously considering a long stint under Yanagi in the Heavenly Records department? No matter how boring writing names by quill was, it'd be a lot quieter.

It was a little too early for Shinji to be visiting the bar, but these minor details of when one was supposed to drink hadn't stopped him before. He also felt that he needed a good stiff one after the Dying Incident, which was never spoken of again.

Okay, so it has to be spoken of if one wanted to know why Shinji's hair was now purple, his shirt was covered in red splotches, and there was red stains on his hands. He had kinda forgotten to read the instructions on the package of red hair dye. A mortal and often masculine error ending up in his hair not being the red needed for proper Oishi seduction.

Gloomy, Shinji sank into his usual place at the bar and muttered something about needing a beer.

Oishi turned to look at his assignment, a friendly smile on his face, but then he caught sight of Shinji's appearance - and must it be pointed out that the red dye looked rather like blood? "Shinji!" He exclaimed, dropping his usual formality as his eyes grew to the size of saucers (well, not really that wide, but certainly beyond normal dimensions). Thoughts of failure and how Shinji had already killed someone, and the reports he was going to have to file started to make his headache worse. "What happened to you?!"

Shinji shuffles around uncomfortably on his seat before aiming his unhappy glare at the bar top and mumbling, "I dyed my hair. Doyoulikeit?"

Oishi blinked once, twice - then took a deep breath as he realized he was seeing the results of a very bad hair day. He wondered why someone with nice blue-black hair like Shinji's would choose to mess with what God had given them, but humans always seemed to be inclined that way.

"It's very... purple."

Shinji slouched lower, "It was supposed to be red ... can I have a beer?"

"Red?" Oishi echoed. He supposed he'd never understand how human minds worked. "Um, coming right up."

Obviously the Plan had been a complete and total failure. Shinji sighed, sucking on his beer morosely as soon as Oishi set it in front of him.

Shinji seemed even more depressed than usual tonight. Oishi could feel the waves of despair radiating off the human like heat from a cheap space heater, and his compassionate heart swelled in response. "Ibu-san, is something the matter?"

Shinji pulled his beer closer to him, nearly cuddling the glass as though it were his only friend, "No. Everything's just fine ... I went to class today ... the moron squad was acting up again ... then I dyed my hair ... should have read the directions, but it looked so straightforward ... where's the useless redhead? Did he leave? Gone for good? I hope so, I didn't like him much."

"It's a little early for Eiji to be around," Oishi said. He wasn't about to start debating Eiji's merits, since most of them were the kind that he didn't think would be particularly... well, they weren't particularly things he wanted Shinji to discover. "I'm glad to hear you went to class. I bet you can make some friends there."

"Not with the morons around, they disrupt everything."

"Have some patience. Everyone had their good points." Oishi touched Shinji's wrist reassuringly. "Wouldn't it be nice to have a friend to do things with?"

"I guess," Shinji sighed, fixating on the point of Oishi's touch, " ... are you my friend?"

"Of course!" Oishi replied instantly. He was everyone's friend, really!

This was a positive step! Perhaps the Dying Incident could be salvaged! Shinji glanced up through the curtain of purple hair. "Want to hang out sometime, then?"

Oishi was cornered. "I guess it couldn't hurt..." He frowned a bit. "Ibu-san, I should warn you that the nature of my job might make me get transferred in a moment's notice."

Shinji frowned in return, "What do you mean?"

"I'm not sure how long I'll be around. Remember how angry Eiji was? It was because I got transferred and I had to leave him without warning." Okay, that was stretching the truth and he felt his tongue burning a bit, but...

Shinji's face went through Shinji contortions, which was somewhere along the equivalent of Tezuka contortions and were only noticed by the trained eye. "We could be friends while you're here?"

Oishi gave him a relieved smile. "That would be nice." Hopefully he could find someone else along the way for Shinji to latch onto. Shinji really needed a friend who could stay with him.

If Eiji kept to a schedule, he would be sorely neglecting his duties as a demon of outstanding sexual prowess. Oh no, occasionally he had to come in before the fun just to remind Oishi that he was The Demon and expectations were useless against him.

Sidling up to the bar in hot pants and a t-shirt that was more string than shirt, Eiji posed himself on a seat with sprawling legs and ordered a gin and coke with a purr.

Oishi wasn't precisely surprised by Eiji's early arrival, but the look that Shinji gave the demon did set off a few alarm bells. He decided to just ignore it, turning around (completely unaware how one redhead and one would-be red head used the opportunity to admire his ass) to fetch the drink. "Did you have a good day, Eiji?" he asked politely as he slid the drink into place in front of the redhead.

"A delicious day now that I'm here with you, Oishi-kun," Eiji's purred, casting the mortal beside him a smirking glance. Shinji glared back, wondering what would happen if he knocked Eiji's chair over and then dumped beer over his head.

"I'm glad to see you, too, Eiji," Oishi said with utter sincerity. A sweet smile lit his face, and there was no trace of the nerves which tended to overcome him around the catlike demon.

Ever since his "talk" with Tezuka, he'd been thinking, and he'd realized that his tactics on dealing with Eiji were fundamentally flawed. He'd been so busy trying not to be damned that he hadn't thought on even attempting to redeem Eiji. From what he'd seen of the demon, Eiji wasn't the type who delighted in pain - merely the kind who delighted in chaos.

Oishi could work with that.

Eiji blinked, completely flummoxed. Oishi hadn't twitched or flinched or made that panting look that meant he was thinking about all the things Eiji could be doing with him. It was just .... wrong. Deeply, intrinsically wrong.

Leaning forward, Eiji ran his tongue over his upper lip, "I missed you so, today"

"It's nice to know someone cares about you."

Eiji stared. What the ... ? "Oishi-kun? Are you in there, Oishi-kun?" He waved his hands in front of Oishi's face. Shinji snickered, pleased to see 'that damn hussy' having a moment of complete bewilderment.

"I'm fine, Eiji," Oishi said. "Could you calm down a little? It's not good for you to be upset."

"I'm not upset!!" Eiji grabbed Oishi's face and jerked it forward so he could stare into his eyes, "OISHI-KUN! ARE YOU IN THERE?! DID TEZUKA GET YOUR FIRST??"

"Excuse me?" Oishi looked confused now.

Eiji almost whined, "Oishi-kun You're not supposed to act that way."

"What way?"

The whine became a full fledged pout and Eiji milked it for all it was worth. "Like that way!"

Oishi reached across the bar and picked up Eiji's drink, then forced it into his hands. "How about you take a drink? Maybe it will calm you down?"

A drink sounded brilliant and Eiji gulped his quickly. He thumped it back down and stared at the angel across from him. This was craziness. Something must be up! But not Oishi ... Oishi was never up to something ... right? Eiji narrowed his eyes suspiciously, "What are you up to?"

"I merely thought on a couple of things, and decided to reevaluate the course of my existence," Oishi said. It was annoying that he couldn't lie. He wished he knew how Sengoku got away with it.

Eiji became even more suspicious. "What sorts of things?"

"If you wait for me after I shut down, we can discuss it." Oishi blushed a bit, having a hard time believing he was actually propositioning Eiji.
The shock of before had nothing on this one. Eiji's mouth dropped open and he stared and sputtered and finally managed to gasp out a "Okay, Oishi," before stealing Shinji's beer to pour some much need alcohol down his throat.

Shinji had been having a glorious time watching Oishi trounce Eiji. He had even been entertaining notions that maybe it was him that had cooled Oishi to the redhead ... which were all blown away by Oishi's final sentence. He glared hatred Eiji as he stole his beer and nearly writhed with jealousy at Oishi's benign expression over the whole thing. He was going to get that obnoxious redhead.
It was closing time at the Lounge. Students were slowly trickling out the doors, only coaxed away from their drinks by the suggestion of more drinks and more full-frontal nudity brought on by drinks if they happened to head home and drink there instead. It took a while, a full thirty minutes after official closing time, in fact, for the last customer to clear the building and wobble out into the street for the walk back to their dorm.

Kikumaru Eiji was in a state of sheer nervous tension and complete impatience for the whole of it, restlessly tapping his foot and shifting around in his chair (much to the appreciation of those formerly seated in the tables behind him). The minute the last customer was gone, he thumped his jack and coke down with a thump, and demanded, "Tell me what's going on, Oishi-kun!"

Oishi was cleaning glasses, something which wasn't his responsibility but that he liked to do because he was a neat and orderly kind of soul. He gave the demon a smile, before looking over at a waitress who was stacking chairs on the tables. "I need to finish this up, but then how about we go and take a walk to talk about it?" he suggested.

Eiji's eye twitched. "But I wanna hear it now, Oishi-kun! Now, now, now!!"

"Eiji, how about helping Yuriko so we can get out of here faster?" Oishi suggested calmly.

"But that's work!" Despite his protests, though, Eiji got up and helped Yuriko, even though it went against his demonic nature to help anything at all ... but as long as it got Oishi out of here faster so he could stop dying of curiosity ... "You're so mean, nyah"

"It benefits you in the long run, doesn't it?" Oishi reasoned. He knew very well how the demonic mind worked, but by starting with this simple wedge, he might be able to start a redemption without Eiji even being aware of it. Eiji wasn't the brightest light in the attic, after all. And the smile that Yuriko gave the both of them was blinding as they finished in half the time it normally took to finished closing.

Eiji practically writhed, dancing on his toes as they finally finished the dishes and the cleaning of the bar. "Can we go now?!?!"

Oishi undid the apron from his waist and hung it up. "Just let me wash my hands."

"Arghhhhh!!!!!" Eiji flailed.

Oishi wasn't a sadist, but he went slowly as he took time to gather his thoughts. He was playing right into Eiji's hands if he left his safe ground, but desperate times called for drastic measures. The lemon-scented soap lingered in the air as he finally pronounced himself finished.

"Are we leaving? Please say we're leaving, Oishi-kun!" Eiji attached himself to Oishi's arm and tugged, trying to get him to make him way to the door, "I can't take it anymore!"

The waitress giggled about how cute Oishi-san's boyfriend was, wishing him a good night, and "good luck!"

Oishi turned scarlet for the first time. "I don't need luck if I have Eiji," he said gallantly - though maybe the compliment was a bit backhanded.

Eiji laughed at the waitress, which came off more as him laughing at her 'good luck' rather than what he was really laughing at, and bounded outside. "Finally!" He turned and pointed a finger at Oishi. "Now tell me!"

It was past 2 a.m., but the crowd was still stifling to Oishi, who had a pretty good idea that modesty wouldn't be a concern to the horny demon... if such a word even existed in Eiji's vernacular. "Let's go somewhere a bit more private so we can talk without being interrupted." Flashes of Tezuka at his apartment persuaded him that his place was out of the question. "There's a lovely bench that overlooks the sea in Chiba... up for a little magical jaunt?"

That so cinched it. Eiji was going to lay Oishi tonight and his 500 year long seduction would be at a glorious, triumphant end ... and not even Tezuka had been able to stop it. Eiji tossed his head in triumph and grinned. "I'll go anywhere you want to go, Oishi-kun"

Oishi led the overly familiar demon - whose hands freely wandered over Oishi's angelic physique - into an ally so he could discreetly teleport the two of them to the place he'd been thinking of.

Eiji blinked as they popped in and out of real space and looked around. He had kinda been hoping to take the oh-so-perfect angel up against an alley wall.

It would have been nice to have been able to describe it as a perfectly romantic setting, but a bit of air pollution only let the brightest of stars (and planets) poke through the gloom. A few years ago, it would have been a wonderful place for lovers, but now most people would have worried about the air from the nearby paper factory. The sea had a few rather interesting colors in it signifying a few clear violations of environmental law.

Oishi frowned at it. It hadn't been like this in the 50's. "Oh, my..."

Least the bench was still there.

Eiji gave the scene a long look. "This is supposed to be romantic?"

"Haven't been here in a while..." Oishi said, and felt himself begin to flounder. "I forget how fast things are changing."

Eiji grinned. "Well, it's not our problem. Now tell me, Oishi-kun!"

Oishi was tempted to suggest going somewhere where he would be able to breathe, but decided that his supernatural healing would take care of any damage he incurred. He sat down heavily on the bench, took a deep breath (which made him gag just a little) and tried to figure out where to start. "Eiji, I think we need to discuss where our relationship is heading."

Eiji stared at Oishi like he had grown a third eye, "It's heading to fucking."

Oishi decided they needed to start at the beginning. "Eiji, what am I?" he asked patiently.

Oishi's got to have lost his marbles somewhere. Eiji spoke slowly and carefully, to make sure Oishi understood, "An angel."

"Right. Angels do not casually... engage in intimate relationships." His wording was much more delicate.

"Well, duh! That's why seduction works so well to make you fall!" Eiji exclaimed, thumping down into a sprawl beside Oishi on the bench.

Oishi sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Why would I want to Fall? I love helping people."

"It's doesn't matter if you want to Fall, Oishi-kun. It's my job to make you fall or destroy you."
Oishi gave him sincere eyes. "Eiji, by all rights, I shouldn't have anything to do with you." A slight smile pulled on his lips, and he pet Eiji's hair gently, with a care that Eiji had probably never been subjected to before. "But I do like you. I'm not just attracted to you - I like you as a creature."

Eiji had been lulled by being stroked, craving his kitty ears so Oishi could pay attention to them too, but this, this was too much, "Whaaaaaaaaaat?!"

"You're cute," Oishi said. He pulled Eiji a bit closer, reveling in his body warmth. "I miss you when you're not around."

This was not going the way it should go! Oishi wasn't supposed to think of him as cute, he was supposed to think 'sex on legs'! Argh! "I'm not cute!" Eiji huffed.

"Yes, you are," Oishi said, smiling a bit at the adorable expression on the demon's face. His hand ran through Eiji's hair, amazed at how fine the strands were. "I don't want to have just sex with you. I want to be the one you can rely on."

Eiji leaned automatically into the touch, more than just a little confused by the way events were playing themselves out. When confused, though, he fell back of standard demonic performance and ran a hand up Oishi's thigh, purring, "Then why don't you Fall and become the demon I can rely on forever, Oishi-kun?"

"Because if I'm a demon, I won't be able to love you," Oishi said. "Only angels love."

Eiji gave Oishi a suspicious look, pulling away a little. "Love?"

Oishi's smile was gentle as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss on Eiji's brow. "If you let me."

Eiji looked up at Oishi cross-eyed, as if trying to take a look at the place kissed without letting his eyes pop out and take a stroll up there themselves, "Nyah, you're strange."

"Are you scared?"

Scared?! Eiji was a demon! Mortals trembled in fear of him! "I'm not scared! Who's afraid of love?!" Eiji sniffed disdainfully, back straightening.

Oishi's lips found Eiji's in a surprisingly gentle kiss. He licked the outside of Eiji's mouth, asking for entrance, and the demon groaned, shifting a bit closer to increase their body contact. Hands began to wander, and they forgot about how ugly it was around them and the air that smelled like industrial chemicals, and concentrated on how wet and warm -
"Not exactly my choice for a romantic rendez-vous, but I suppose you take what you can get."

Eiji jerked away with a startled pop at the voice that all demons knew and sorta feared (if they knew what was good for them), "FUJI!"

Fuji Syuusuke, the Master of Evil Himself stood in front of them, his hands buried in oversized jeans and looking very much like a college student. The large beer-bottle glasses he wore had very dark frames, though they looked a bit off with the "I only LOOK sweet and innocent" hooded sweatshirt he had on. He smiled cheerfully at Oishi, who he had never formally met. "I assume you are Oishi-kun?"

"Y-yes?" Oishi stuttered. He wasn't sure what the proper reaction on being caught making out with a demon was, especially when the person catching you was the Devil himself. He tried to think of something to say, but his mind was amazingly blank.

"I've heard a lot about you," Fuji said, and he shifted his footing a bit.

"R-really?" Oishi wondered why Fuji would be interested in him. He was pretty low-ranking, when all was said and done.

"Tezuka's very fond of you." Fuji gave Oishi a brilliant smile, the kind that doctors used when saying "this won't hurt a bit!"

Oishi had known that Fuji had always been a bit interested in Tezuka, but hadn't realized that it would extend to himself. "He's a good angel," Oishi replied, wondering if there was any way he could protect Tezuka. Obviously Fuji wanted something. He saw Eiji squirming out of the corner of his eye, and wondered why the incubus was so nervous.

Eiji squirmed around the seat, glowering at Fuji from under carefully lowered lashes. Of course His Most Evilness would have to ruin things right when Eiji could have been getting Oishi laid. Not to mention that The Evilest was probably up to getting his target and scarring Eiji's perfect record. It's something he would do. Eiji scowled, "Don't you have more important things to do, Fuji-san?"

Fuji smiled at him. "Everything I do is important." The subtle don't tell me what to do, you mere minion went unspoken, but the last time he'd used Smile #157 in Eiji's presence had been right before demoting a Demon Lord who'd dared to annoy him over his color scheme choice in Purgatory.

Eiji scowled at the ground and muttered something that might have been an apology, but probably wasn't.
Oishi looked at the two of them, wondering what he was missing.

Fuji gave Oishi an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, Oishi-kun, but I need to borrow Eiji. You do understand, don't you?"

Oishi nodded, and rose to his feet. "It's not a problem."

Damn. He was in hot water. Eiji cast his most pathetic look in Oishi's direction as the angel started to walk away.

"Would you be so kind as to deliver a message to Tezuka for me?" Fuji asked sweetly.

Oishi hesitated a moment, before turning around. He couldn't see how that could hurt. "Sure. I can't promise you he will reply, though."

"That's okay. Just promise to give him it exactly the way I give it to you."

"I promise." Oishi began to get a foreboding feeling - and for very good reason.

One second Fuji was nearly ten feet away, and the next he was right in front of Oishi, who only had a second to blink before Fuji reached out and jerked Oishi's head down. Fuji's tongue shoved itself into a startled Oishi's mouth, and he kissed him for a few long moments before letting him go, but not before stealing a good grope.

Oishi stared in horror as Fuji removed his glasses to polish them on his shirt. "Give it to him just like that, okay?"

Oishi, who was now bound by his word, could only teleport away, his dignity in shambles.

Eiji was on his feet in a fuming moment, "HEY! What was that for?!?!"

"I had to test him for you, didn't I?" Fuji twirled the glasses around his fingers. "I approve."

"He didn't need testing! He's just fine!" Eiji snapped, stamping his foot.

"I know that now." Fuji walked back over to put a hand on Eiji's shoulder consolingly. "He needs a little bit of work, but I think he'll work out well."

The incubus huffed and folded his arms over his chest, muttering, "He better."

"Have I ever been wrong before?"

"'This Christianity thing will never catch on.'"

"It's a fad. I'm telling you, give it another couple millennia..."