Paved with Good Intentions
by surefall and aishuu
Disclaimer: Based on Prince of Tennis, by Konomi.
Part 10 Summary: In Which Three Hyotei characters make their first appearance.
Most people didn't expect life-altering meetings to happen at a convenience store (unless there was a robber and a gun present), but that was exactly what happened to Fuji Yuuta on a rather bleak morning a week after meeting his sister. Yuuta had woken up relatively early and Mizuki had promptly sent him to fetch coffee, bagels and aspirin from the nearby Ju Ju Store, which is basically a chain similar to 7-11, except the food selection was a little smaller and the prices were a lot higher.
Yuuta had been having a strange week. Saeki had actually gone out to see Yumiko again, which was something of a rarity, since Saeki was famous for his "love 'em and leave 'em" approach to gender relations. It bothered Yuuta a bit to know his newly-found sister was getting her jollies with his roommate, and once he'd even shut Saeki up when the other man had started to describe exactly how proficient Yumiko was with her tongue. There was some things a guy just didn't want to know about his sister, never mind that until a few days ago, Yuuta hadn't known she'd existed.
Yuuta wandered through the store, looking for raison-sesame bagels, since they were the only kind Mizuki would eat. Sadly, it seemed that they'd all been sold, which meant that Yuuta's lover would be sulky for hours over not getting his way. Yuuta stared into the empty plastic container, as though he could will them to appear.
Akutagawa Jiroh was a demon. Not a particularly high level demon and not a particularly effective one, unless one counted being an example of slothdom effective. Frankly, heaven hadn't been too troubled to lose him to Fuji after the war, since he hadn't been a very effective angel either.
As a matter of fact, Jiroh had been sleeping (for the most part) on and off since the war. This particular trip to the local earthian drug store was actually an accidental thing. He had meant to go to the pillow factory that had been located on this spot three centuries ago and he was mighty befuzzled that it was no longer there.
Jiroh stood by the bagels and poked them all listlessly (in a very unhygienic way), as if hoping they might turn into pillows.
Yuuta noticed the rather peculiar actions, and frowned in annoyance. There was no way he'd be able to eat one after seeing Jiroh's rather grubby fingers pawing them. The thought that the other man regularly did this made him rather queasy, actually. He bought bagels here regularly.
"Stop that," Yuuta said, finally snapping when Jiroh flipped a bagel over, inspecting it without much interest.
Jiroh turned to tell Yuuta a very distinct 'no, I don't want to', but he paused, momentarily startled. That was ... that was ... he blinked and squinted with the inner demonic eye. "YUUTA-KUN! Oh my god, Yuuta-kun! It's been centuries!!!" Jiroh flailed, voice suddenly loud and exuberant as the demon bounced around Yuuta like a revitalized otaku receiving a poki box after an eternity of want.
Yuuta, as anyone would have been, was a bit confused - and scared of the maniac who abruptly stopped bouncing, and grabbed him in a friendly bear-hug that threatened to squeeze the life out of him.
"Yuuta-kun! I thought you were dead! I'm sure you were dead! But you're not dead! You're alive! Just like a Fuji. Oh my god, Fuji-san is so cool, isn't he, Yuuta-kun?!" Jiroh practically squealed in his ear.
It was frightening to know this guy knew his name. "Um, I..." He blinked, trying to sort out what was going on. First his long-lost sister appeared, and now a lunatic was raving about another Fuji... and it probably wasn't his father. That meant it was probably the brother Yumiko had mentioned in passing.
Jiroh sighed happily, just imagining all the things that they could get into now that Yuuta was back. Hell was going to be a great place .... "Hurry up and finish buying things, Yuuta-kun! We need to get back to Hell right away! Fuji-san is probably waiting for us!"
"Hell...?" Yuuta echoed. This lunatic was dangerous! He squirmed, trying to get out of Jirou's arms, which were locked around him tighter than a chastity belt. "Who are you, you freak?" he demanded.
"Me? Don't you remember? I'm Akutagawa Jiroh, Devil of Sloth, formally angel of something or another that probably wasn't too important because I've forgotten it." Jiroh let go of Yuuta long enough to manage a sloppy salute before glomping again.
Yuuta froze, wondering if anyone would notice he was being molested by a fruitcake. "That's... nice, Jiroh-san... Can you let me go?" he asked, deciding that Jiroh couldn't help that he had a few screws loose and it would be best to play along. This guy belonged in an assylum.
Jiroh released Yuuta, but only so he could dance around him with glee. "Oh, this is so great. Now that the Fuji brothers are back together, heaven had better watch out! Stupid old Satan ... what was he thinking when he killed you, anyway?"
Something about that last statement echoed in Yuuta's head. To give a comparison, Jiroh's words had the effect of shaking up a can of soda and then handing it to an unsuspecting victim. There was a ton of pressure inside, waiting to get out, and Yuuta was feeling rather like that stressed can. It only needed a hand to pop the lid before everything exploded.
"Who... are... you?" Yuuta whispered. Around them, people were politely not staring, looking at everything except the two rather attractive males locked in an embrace.
"I told you, Yuuta-kun! I'm Jiroh! I'm your Fallen!"
Yuuta's head was throbbing, and he turned rather pale. Jiroh... Fallen... "I... I know you, don't I?" There was something familiar about the maniac, in an "old shoes" sort of way.
Jiroh grinned. "Of course ... hee, in the Biblical sense."
Yuuta would have sworn he lost his virginity at 15 to a rather flexible guy named Kajimoto, and he would have remembered sleeping with this cute blond. His brain was threatening to explode out of his skull, and he groaned, clutching his head. "I... I..." he stammered, on the verge of a breakthrough.
"Yuuta-kun? Mou, is something wrong?" Jiroh leaned forward and rubbed the top of Yuuta's head as he hummed gleefully. "Me and Fuji-san will make it better."
Yuuta grabbed his forehead, unable to make sense of what was happening. Images of things he'd never seen before flashed through his mind, dominated by a face he had never glimpsed. The only thing he knew was he had to get away. Something bad would happen if he listened anymore.
With superhuman strength, Yuuta broke free of Jiroh's hands, dashing for the door. Of course, he forget to get the coffee and bagels, something which Mizuki would scold him about for days.
"....." Jiroh blinked and then scratched his head, wondering why Yuuta had decided to run off so quickly. Oh well. It was probably important hellish business .... he looked around for a place to nap. They'd wake him when they needed him. He grinned. That would be fun.
The Library. Source of all knowledge (outside of God). Home of all information (way too much information). Inui suffered a moment of this phenomenon of TMI and snapped the book he had yoinked off the shelves with a clapping sound. There were some embarrassing incidents in the hellish past that a demon just really didn't need to be reminded off ... as well as the first chat about the mating habits of small slugs. Really. This wasn't the information he was looking for. Okay, so he really wasn't after the information specifically this time around, but Inui couldn't resist pulling books off to read them when he visited the library ... and it also gave him a good reason to "wander" into Shishido Ryou, former resident of hell and hopefully a possible current ally. "Ah, excuse me, Risen."
Shishido, eternal poster boy of angst and a long-time devotee of the school of suffering for your sins, was sitting at the librarian's desk. When he'd followed Ohtori to heaven about a millennium ago, the archangels had been rather stressed about what to do with him. After a rather unsuccessful century under Atobe's wing as a messenger of the Word of God (the less said about that, the better), he'd bounced around departments before finally settling in under Yanagi's eye in the Library. It wasn't the best solution, since he was constantly exposed to his former coworkers from Down There, but his utter tone deafness ruled out the choir and he refused to be a guardian angel, since it would part him from Ohtori for way too long. He found being a library aide rather dull, really, but it was something to do while Ohori sang the day away, and heaven had strict rules about being lazy.
He preferred the boredom, though, to being harassed by Inui. That devil knew more about these stupid books than he did. "What do you want?" he asked.
Inui's glasses glinted. "I do not suppose you know where some books are?"
"Maybe you need to get your prescription fixed," Shishido said dryly, glancing at the shelves and shelves around him. Rumor had it that Inui had damaged his eyes in one of those experiments of his, but it had never been confirmed.
"I fail to see what my prescription has to do with you not knowing where the books in your domain are, Risen."
"They're all around you, stupid," Shishido said irritably.
"I am seeking specific books."
"Use a card catalogue."
"I desire the angelic contact."
Shishido picked up a pencil and started to twirl it between his fingers. "So sorry, I'm busy." Just because he was stuck working here didn't mean he had to be helpful. There was still enough demon left in him to make him stubborn - well, he'd met a few stubborn angels in his time as well.
"Busy being idle? Is that not the devil's workshop?" Inui had decided that being an asshole was the best way to irritate the traitor.
"No, I'm currently getting closer to God by contemplating the complexities of this pencil. Everything has a place in the divine scheme." Shishido had gotten good at dealing with demons determined to taunt him.
This was the point where Inui felt it was time to throw in a non-sequitur. "Did you learn those techniques from Sengoku?"
"Sengoku?" The pencil slipped from Shishido's fingers as he lost Inui's train of thought.
Inui adjusted his glasses. "Indeed. I had not pegged you for the cheating kind ... "
"Cheating?" Shishido squawked. Cheating was something he'd given up when he'd taken up with Ohtori.
"Indeed. How else could you learn such ... interesting habits from someone of such station. Brown nosing, Risen?"
Shishido was feeling very lost. He hardly had anything to do with Sengoku. The archangel was persona very non grata for most of heaven's host. Shishido could count on one hand the times he'd met with him. "What are you getting at?"
"What happened to the books that were taken from the Library at during the War of the Flood?"
"Huh?"
"Just answer the question, Risen."
"I'm not old enough to remember," Shishido said. "How would I know?" He was seriously starting to wish he was still a demon so he could damn Inui back to Hell where he belonged.
"Have any books lying around?"
"Are you looking for something in particular?" Shishido asked, starting to get the idea. Apparently Inui was looking for a book which had gone missing during that long-ago war, though it was a serious question why.
"Nothing specific."
"Is everything okay, Shishido-san?" came the bell-like question from an equally bell-like source. Inui glanced to the side without actually moving his head as the benign and concerned countenance of the angel of chastity appeared from around a corner.
Ohtori Choutarou was the very vision of what an angel was supposed to be. Bright, white feathers adorned the wings that seemed a permanent attachment to his back, clear-voiced, and reeking of innocence and purity. It was enough to gag Inui at thirty paces. He took a judicious step back to put him outside the thirty paces range. "Ohtori."
Ohtori smiled a smile that shot a bright light of purity into the thirty-one pace mark and made Inui back up another step to escape it. "Hello, Inui-san. How can I help you?"
Shishido gave a look of mixed affection and longing at his partner. Being around Ohtori was like drinking very bitter wine sometimes, Shishido thought, heady yet unsatisfying. He'd follow the beautiful angel anywhere, but since Ohtori was who he was, he'd never actually be able to do anything with him. It was a very sour pill to swallow, but life without him would be more unbearable.
Inui felt the urge to summon backup against the obvious power of the forces arrayed against him. Ohtori smiled at him again and he inched subtlety to the side to avoid it's beam, not unlike a cockroach, really. "Do you happen to have any books lying around, Ohtori?"
"What kind of books?" Ohtori blinked eyes full of pure unadulterated innocence that couldn't be that innocent if he was deliberately following Inui with his smile.
"Books that got lost during the War of the Flood," Inui asked, shifting his glasses in hopes of reflecting the smile back with evil aura.
It was hopeless, for Ohtori vibrated in good will. "Perhaps you should ask someone who remembers the war, Inui-san? I wasn't even created yet!"
Had Shishido been a demon still, he would have smirked. But since he'd given up All Things of Evil, he merely gave Ohtori a soft, warm smile. "That's a good idea, Choutarou. Weren't you just talking about Sengoku-san, Inui-san?" Okay, maybe all the demon hadn't been removed after all, but it was still a good suggestion.
"I've already spoken to him," a smooth voice inserted from above the stacks, and the trio lifted their heads to see Yanagi perched rather neatly on top of the nearest shelf. "Hello, Shishido-kun. It's nice to you're being so diligent."
Shishido twitched a bit as he saw his supervisor. Yanagi had a thing about being on top of things, literally. It made it very hard to play solitaire on the computers, since there was no telling where Yanagi would show up next. "Just doing my job."
Inui had shifted around until Shishido was between him and Ohtori, which he hoped would block the angel of chastity's beam. He glanced up at Yanagi. "Did you? I hope it was a fruitful discussion."
Ohtori leaned to the side to smile at Inui from around Shishido. "Should Shishido-san and I leave you alone, Yanagi-sempai?"
"There's no need," Yanagi said, rather enjoying how Inui was squirming. It wasn't sadism, exactly, so much as seeing someone suffer the consequences of the denial of God's love. Really. "You might be able to offer some suggestions." He quickly explained their quest to find the missing volumes in heaven's library to the two angels.
"So?" Shishido wanted to know. "Why now?"
"It's been an issue for a while, but there's been a few precipitating events that's made it rather imperative that we have that information available so we can make plans... both from heaven and hell's perspectives."
"You mean Fuji trying to get into Tezuka's pants?" Shishido asked bluntly.
"Shishido-san! You shouldn't -- "
"Why not? It's true," Inui interjected smoothly, despite the fact that he was feeling distinctly persecuted. "Does this mean that there were no significant discoveries made here, Renji?"
Ohtori made a clucking sound in Inui's direction and glanced in Yanagi's direction. "We'd be glad to help you, Yanagi-senpai."
Shishido tried not to groan, but the shimmering smile Ohtori turned on him made him forget about everything except those big, chocolate brown eyes.
"I'm afraid Sengoku is just as air-headed as ever. I think we're going to have to talk to Yukimura or Dan. Yukimura's been a bit busy lately, but I think I can conn Sanada into arranging an appointment for me. Can you handle Dan?" Yanagi asked Inui.
Inui adjusts his glasses, "Talking with Dan about subjects of this nature never bring forth answers. He has the mental capacity of a five-year old." It was gross underestimation, but it was still something Inui considered to be a god-given truth. Age seemed to bring a strange senility to devils.
"I hate resting all my hope in Yukimura..." Yanagi said hesitantly. He truly did like the ancient angel, but Yukimura was sometimes secretive, and while there was usually good reasons for it, it was frustrating.
"Ask Fuji," Shishido said with an indifferent shrug. "Bribe him well enough, he'll tell you what he knows."
Inui considered the notion, for it had some merit, before shaking his head, "I do not think Fuji will be forthcoming ... frankly, I begin to suspect something like a conspiracy at work among the aged. That or senility."
Ohtori gave them all a curious look, not quite understanding why everyone was complaining about senility. He thought Yukimura-san and Sengoku-san were beacons of light and hope, dispensing wisdom as God decreed. Surely Yukimura-san was sweet and delightful and Sengoku-san had given him the most useful information in regards to turning the doorknob the other way ... but his elders certainly knew more about these things than him. "Maybe you could just look it up?"
"Look it up?" Yanagi blinked curiously.
Ohtori bestowed Yanagi with a downright strange look, as if befuddled by the fact that the Librarian of all angels would not think of looking in the Library first. "Of course! You may not have some books ... but certainly you have all the others, right?"
Inui stared at him.
It took a second for Ohtori's logic to process. "Eventually... the book's location would have to have been recorded somewhere..." Yanagi said slowly. He stared at Inui, unable to believe neither of them had thought of it before.
Inui smirked in what could be called glee. "That is ... brilliant." He didn't feel bad about complimenting an angel in this matter, not bad at all.
Ohtori rubbed the back of his head. "Well, I meant more that context tells a greater story than the event itself ... but that works, too!"
Yanagi resisted the urge to plant his face in his palm. "Never mind. Shishido, start researching. You're on special assignment."
Shishido stared at the books in undisguised horror. "But... that could take centuries!"
"I'll get Ohtori pulled off choir duty to help," Yanagi said. "Hop to!"
Inui grinned in manic delight and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Is it not wonderful, Risen?" he asked with a smirk, almost bounding to the shelves to start an immediate search through history.
Ohtori sighed. "Wouldn't it just be easier to read the books from right after the war?"
"It's a place to start," Yanagi said. He summoned the first two volumes from after the war and dropped them on the desk in front of Shishido and Ohtori. "I suggest you get busy - it could be there, or a couple thousand volumes later.... history isn't always terribly linear."
Ohtori sighed, but pulled the book towards him with determination and flipped it open to begin reading.
Shishido managed a glare at Inui, and would have said something devastatingly nasty to Yanagi, but Ohtori's shining presence at his side reminded him he was supposed to be one of the Good Guys now. Instead, he took the other volume and started to read about the third plant that started to grow after the flood, and tried not to yawn. Sometimes he wondered if he ever left hell after all.
Had Sengoku not known Kirihara as well as he did, he might have been surprised at how impeccably neat Kirihara's room was. The demon had managed to convince the university to grant him a single (which was really the size of a triple, but somehow a bureaucratic error had been made), and it was all perfectly in order. Dirty clothes, instead of being on the floor, were in a hamper; books were precisely set on the desk; and Sengoku would wager that the food in the mini-fridge was all unspoiled. It was unnatural clean, exactly the opposite of what anyone who knew the rather chaotic Kirihara would expect - unless they understood him.
Kirihara was a control freak.
Some things, Sengoku decided, simply didn't change. Control freakism appeared to be one of them. He smiled to himself, idly reaching out to rub a palm across the sleeping Kirihara's stomach as his eyes tracked from object to object. A place for everything and everything in its place. He supposed this meant he got to be tacked to the wall or chained to the bed, whichever seemed more satisfying at the time Kirihara finally got around to dealing with Sengoku.
Sengoku twisted in the sheets, turning a purposefully blind eye to the fact that he had been engaging in some major sins not eight hours ago, and curled around his demonic lover, burying his nose in dark, curling hair.
Kirihara squirmed a little bit, pushing the hands away as he stirred slightly. Demons didn't dream, but when in earthly form they did require sleep - not always as much as their earthly counterparts, but they still needed it. After a rather exhausting night, it was no wonder he was still out of it.
Sengoku hummed and replaced his hands, settling into a mimicry of vine on a tree, or possibly a blood sucking tick. Angels required as much sleep in human guise as demons, but for some reason Sengoku couldn't truly account for, the older he got, the less he seemed to sleep. He decided to chunk this into the category he marked: relatively useless information.
Kirihara's eyelashes fluttered open slowly, resembling a flower slowly blooming. It was subtle and beautiful, the long dark lashes giving way to the stunning blue-green eyes which were a study in confusion. It was clear the demon wasn't awake enough to have a clue what was going on.
Which was really all the reason Sengoku needed to lean over and kiss him.
It wasn't anything out of a fairytale. Sleeping beauty Kirihara wasn't - he didn't warm up to his prince. Instead, he bit Sengoku in his half-sleeping state, lapping at the blood he drew with his pointed tongue.
After being so horribly accosted over a simple matter as kissing one's lover awake, there really wasn't anything to be done except bite Kirihara back.
It was something Kirihara understood. Their teeth, tongues and lips met, and Kirihara's hands clawed at Sengoku's back, which he had become quite familiar with in the last twelve hours. He smirked as Sengoku drew blood, coming fully awake. "I thought you angels weren't supposed to hurt others?" he purred, drawing a hand down to Sengoku's body, his nails leaving track marks behind.
The track marks sealed themselves in trails of smoke without any thought on Sengoku's part. He bit at Kirihara's lips again, wanting a proper kiss this time. "That was divine punishment, not injury."
"You're always so clever," Kirihara said. "How are you going to explain this away, though?" he asked. His lips nibbled on Sengoku's earlobe teasingly. "You're wallowing in sin."
Sengoku purred, "And it is a delicious wallow," he replied, shifting to press against Kirihara more fully. "Besides ... I haven't fallen quite yet ... " The devil, they say, is in the details.
Kirihara was confused, as usual, as to exactly how Sengoku was getting away with it. The sex, though, was fantastic, even though Kirihara had been topped about six times since it had started. Not that Kirihara particularly found it horrible to be an uke - no, he just found it horrible to submit to Sengoku.
Sengoku, on the other hand, was frightfully pleased about being able to top the demon and almost as pleased with smirking up at him while being uke. He almost took pity on Kirihara's confusion, but held his tongue. It wouldn't be a good idea to let on to any sort of weakness in the presence of one who wanted him dead, even if they had been somewhat mollified by the sex.
When Sengoku pinned Kirihara back to the bed, clearly ready for round seven, Kirihara smiled a bit. "Do you intend to fuck your way to hell, then?"
Sengoku grinned back. "There are worse ways to get there."
"I don't think you're going to live to see Hell," Kirihara said. "I still want you dead." He traced a fingernail across Sengoku's jugular threateningly.
"You can't want me dead that badly ... " Sengoku murmured, reaching up to run a finger down the back of the hand that was threatening his throat.
The playfulness in Kirihara vanished. "Yes, I do."
"Why?"
The puzzlement that marked so much of Kirihara's dealing with Sengoku was vivid in the demon's face as he offered a rather thoughtful reply. "I hate you. I mean... I hate everyone, but I despise you. The sight of you literally makes me want to destroy you. I've never been this passionate about anything in my existence before," Kirihara said slowly. "It's like... we can't exist in the same creation. As long as you are around, I can't be happy."
Silence. Sengoku rolled off Kirihara and flopped onto the bed, throwing an arm over his eyes. "Talk about completely ruining heaven's chances of ever recruiting you for the good guys ... " the voice was flippant.
"Right now I don't think Heaven is going to want to have much to do with you, sinner," Kirihara said, though there wasn't much smugness in his voice. He felt divorced from his surroundings, like what was happening at the moment didn't really matter in the long run.
"Didn't I say I wasn't quite fallen yet?" came the retort that was supposed to be mocking, but didn't manage it quite well.
"Only because heaven's too bureaucratic to process your discharge papers promptly," Kirihara said. He stared at his lover with a vague amount of interest. "You know, I'd wonder if you were angling for Fuji's position, if I didn't know better."
"Eh, you have to get into the big gun sins to even get into line for that position. Indulging in lust hardly counts as a big gun sin."
"Then what are you after?" Kirihara asked. There had to be some reason why an archangel would risk damnation. He honestly couldn't remember if an archangel had Fallen before, but he didn't think it'd happened.
"Now why should I tell you that?" It was said in a mildly curious way.
"Because I gave you three blow jobs last night?"
Sengoku snapped his fingers, "You did those of your own free will, dammit ... " Damn, that was practically a heavenly debt. "Fine. I'm after you."
"Me?" Kirihara knew Sengoku had been more than a bit interested in him, but this was a bit much to believe. "Why me in particular?"
"Sorry, that answer cannot be angled out. Your blow job currency has been depleted. Please restock."
Kirihara scowled, realizing that Sengoku was probably going to worm his way out of answering no matter what the demon tried. The sour expression remained on his face as he scooted off the bed, careful to kick Sengoku - hard - on the way. "You're a bastard." Glancing at the clock, he wasn't surprised to note that it was passed noon and he had already slept through his morning classes.
Well, that hadn't worked as well as he had hoped. Alas ... Sengoku sat up, rubbing his kicked side only on a matter of principle. "That I am, but then again, so are you."
"I'm supposed to be." Kirihara waved a hand, and the clothes from the closet and drawers magically whipped onto his body. "Get your somewhat angelic ass out of here, okay?"
"Argh! Rejected again!" Sengoku mimed a thrust to the heart and flopped back on the bed.
Kirihara flipped him the middle finger and marched out of the room, slamming the door firmly behind him.
Sengoku fished a feather out from underneath his back and gave it a woeful look. It was all black and twisty. That was probably not a good sign ...
"I think you need to be taking better care of yourself, Sengoku-kun," a voice said, drifting out of the shadows of the free-standing wardrobe.
"Eh, get out of the closet already, Fuji-kun," Sengoku answered, propping himself up on his elbows.
The devil stepped out of the closet, wearing a rather somber black ensemble. His face lacked its usual playful smile as he stared at the feather in Sengoku's hand. "I would ask how you've been, but I think the answer is rather obvious."
"Well, it seems that I'm molting. Isn't it just the cutest thing?" Sengoku waved the feather around like a wand. "Here to give the damning stroke?"
"Hardly." Fuji walked over to Sengoku and plucked the feather out of his hand. "The last thing I want is for you to fall."
"Ah, yes ... that would put a crimp in a lot of plans." Sengoku stood, letting the sheets fall as he stepped out of them, clothing snapping into existence to take their place. He was silent for a long moment, walking over to the desk to cheerfully rustle it's contents out of place.
"Sengoku." Every ounce of Fuji's authority laced through that word.
"What?"
"If I think this continues to be a problem, I'll remove the source of your temptation myself."
"That seems to be a running theme with the two of you lately." It really was a nice day outside. "Does this mean I get to watch for conspiracies on both sides instead of just one?"
"Oh, no." Now the smile which Fuji was so noted for was out in full force. "Unlike the idiots in my employ, I am quite aware of the role you play and have every intention of seeing you play it. However, if other people get in the way, well, I can't guarantee their safety." Sengoku was actually treated to little sparkles as Fuji tilted his head becomingly. "It might be a good idea for you to make sure you behave properly to protect your loved ones, though."
Sengoku actually turned and raised an eyebrow. "When did you fall under the impression that threatening Kirihara was going to make me do what you want me to?" It was hardly up the level of Fuji's usual style.
"I'm leveling with you, Sengoku. In all of existence, you're probably the only one who is as much of a manipulative bastard as I am. If we start to scheme and plot around each other, we may inadvertently destroy the world." It was definitely odd to hear Fuji speak in such a straight-forward fashion. "I want you right where you are, and I know exactly how important Kirihara is to you. I frankly want him gone; the only reason I haven't destroyed him before is because of you. If you set one toe out of line, I will cheerfully let Yukimura stab him through the heart or ask Tezuka to use him as a practice target at sword training. Do you understand?"
"Perfectly. Except for the minor detail of planning to kill him myself. So how about this? He dies before I want him to and I'll go off and take a merry Fall. It'll be ever so much fun." Sengoku smiled, pleasantly, brightly, but there were teeth in it.
For the first time since Yuuta had been killed, a hint of alarm showed in Fuji's face. The repercussions of Sengoku suddenly showing up in hell would be catastrophic. "I'll leave him alone, but you had better get your act together. Or else I'll have to do something neither of us want to consider."
Sengoku was just really tired of hearing everyone tell him what he should be doing with Kirihara. Mostly it seemed to involve lots of blood and just ignoring him. Sengoku couldn't decide which option was worse, really. "Is that all you wanted to say? Or is there any other pressing business I should know about?"
Fuji's smile was catlike. "Not really... except that I think Kikumaru is about to damn Oishi for conspiracy to commit your murder."
"I have to applaud his sudden appearance of a plan, that's something new." Sengoku grinned. He hadn't thought Eiji had it in him.
"Well, it's really supposed to bring me down, but you know in the end it'll be targeted at you, since that's the way all these plots seem to be working," Fuji said smugly. "And Oishi started it."
Sengoku rolled his eyes, "I'm just so loved. Oishi. I am shocked and aghast. Really. I am. Somewhat. He was really drunk, wasn't he?"
"Most likely. I kind of seduced his charge." Fuji laced his fingers behind his back and swayed back and forth as he did his impression of a schoolboy trying to play the "who, me?" game.
Sengoku is not fooled by the 'who me' game, especially considering he was dealing with the devil himself. "You're up to something." He nodded sagely and leaned against Kirihara's desk, reaching up to muss the curtains out of line.
"Course I am, Mr. Pot," Fuji replied. "Nothing that really effects you, though."
"Have you seen Yukimura in the past millennium? Is it just me or is he getting real pale?" It was a complete non-sequitur.
Fuji was never at a loss. "I'm sure you're a better judge that me, since we demons tend to get pretty good tans. Maybe you should suggest he should go to one of those nude beaches I got pushed through..."
Sengoku sparkled for a moment at the thought of the nude beaches before shaking his head. "His hair is pale too." He tapped the side of his head. "Maybe my eyesight is fading ... "
It was impossible not to laugh. "Well, there's worse things that could go." To illustrate his point, Fuji wrapped his arms around Sengoku, snagging a quick kiss, careful to stroke him in a most tantalizing way.
That, Sengoku decided, was not playing at all fair, so he looped an arm around Fuji and pulled him closer, stealing another kiss. "That's true. Between the two, I would definitely pick the eyes to go the way of all flesh."
"Well, it seems like your flesh is still perfectly fine," Fuji said, resting his hand temptingly on Sengoku's groin. "There's a perfectly good bed here..." He knew what the answer was going to be - or hoped he knew. Having sex with someone else on your lover's bed was definitely a sin.
Sengoku reached up to tuck strands of Fuji's honey colored hair behind the devil's ear. "Maybe next time. You can't expect a decrepit old geezer such as myself to be capable of a seventh round."
The playfulness in Fuji's face melted away as he stepped out of Sengoku's arms. "You know, Sengoku, there is one more option you don't seem to have considered."
"Oh?" was the curious sound as Sengoku folded his arms behind his head. There were new and completely undiscovered options?
"Kirihara would cease to be a problem for both of us if he was on your side," Fuji said.
"Cute as it may be to see him in a halo, he's not exactly what we call 'suited to the light'."
"We all have the capacity for both good and evil, Sengoku. Even him."
Sengoku smiled. "Hopefully you can toss a little bit of your careful manipulations into the mix, then. Everything I say to him goes in one ear and out the other."
"Anything for an old friend, Kiyosumi." This time the slight points on Fuji's teeth sparkled as he smiled. "The last thing I'd want to do is upset you, after all."