Paved with Good Intentions
by surefall and aishuu
Disclaimer: Based on Prince of Tennis, by Konomi.
Part 11 Summary: In Which many characters are naked.


Part 11: With Complete Angelic Splendor

Saeki Kojiroh knew he had been framed from the depths of his completely pure (Okay, so it wasn't completely pure. It was kinda blackened around the edges and was in the shape of something vaguely phallic) soul. That fire had set itself. Swore to God. Yup, yup.

That fire, unfortunately, had landed him in Hanamura-sensei's office. He slouched down in his chair, giving the overly organized place a wary look. Organization was the sign of a deranged mind and cleanliness, the devil. Definitely. He thought about making a break for it out the window.

Hanamura Aoi studied the truant student across from her desk, a grave look on her face. She never would have suspected that Saeki, of all people, was a bit of a pyromaniac, but that just went to show that you couldn't judge a book by its cover. She adjusted the glasses on her face as she considered the possibility of gleaning the secrets within the pages of this particular book, and decided it was a decidedly pleasant prospect.

"You do realize the gravity of the situation, don't you, Saeki-kun?" she asked, holding a manilla folder containing a list of accusations in front of the junior. It really was quite colorful - while Saeki had always sidled through school, there were numerous occasions where he had been on the periphery of "incidents" and one academic probation. Topped off with the arson attempt, well, the phrase "his ass was grass" came to mind.

"I didn't do it!" Okay, so it wasn't his greatest conversational opener.

"Do you know how often I hear that?"

"I swear! It's not even my style!"

The sound of her flipping through papers as she stared at his college transcript filled the room for several long moments. "You certainly must admit that the college has reason to doubt your sincerity... drunkenness in your first year..."

"Who doesn't get a little drunk in college?"

"Then there was the incident with the jell-O and the football team...."

"Who doesn't razz the football team?"

"Anyone who values their life? I understand security in your dorm had to be increased for the rest of the semester..."

Saeki brushed those aside like trifles, "But I never set anything on fire before! And I didn't do it this time!"

She ignored him. The sound of her flipping papers stopped as her lips twitched. "My personal favorite, was the indecent exposure incident you and a co-ed were involved in by the fountain. I understand she transferred after that, but you saw fit to remain...."

"That was just a little sex play ... " he slouched just a little lower in he seat, wishing he had backup.

Her eyes narrowed a bit, and the smile turned a bit predatoril as she prepared to corner her prey. "Was setting the building on fire play, too?"

"I didn't set that fire!"

It was a vicious circle. Hanamura recognized that no matter what she did, the student was going to protest his innocence, and the college had only circumstantial evidence that he had suddenly become a firebug. Personally, she doubted he had - he was right, it wasn't his style. Saeki was a sensualist, someone who took pleasure from getting involved in the experience. Setting a fire and running wouldn't be any fun for him.

She sighed thoughtfully, pushing her way back from the desk and coming around to seat herself on its corner - which happened to put her chest less than ten inches from Saeki's face. "Let's say for a second I believe you, Kojiroh-kun."

Expellable situation or not, Saeki hadn't suddenly turned into a chick, and even if he had, he still would have been mesmerized by those breasts. His eyes riveted to them. "Okay ... "

"There are procedures that must be observed, and even if the college doesn't expel you, you may face legal prosecution. Arson is a crime, after all... and I'm only a mere administrator, head of the math department or not..." She shifted a little bit, looking weary, and incidently joggling her chest.

Saeki's eyes bobbled up and down in time with her chest. "Okay ... "

"I do happen to be very good friends with the arson investigator," and the way she said friends left little to question about what kind of "friends" she meant, "so I might happen to have some pull with him - and I might be persuaded to have a word with him on your behalf. I take care of my friends and... special students very well."

It was an effort of extreme willpower to leverage his eyes above the level of what he was sure had to be her nipples. "What would I have to do, Hanamura-sensei?" It was one of those incredibly silly, yet apropos questions that he couldn't not say.

She smiled at him. "I do happen to have a degree in biology, and I'm working on a masters as well. Currently I'm conducting a study of the male reproductive system. Would you be willing to volunteer to help?"

Saeki licked his lips. This was straight out of those exceptionally bad porno videos he had stuffed under his bed. Obviously there was a god in heaven, because if this was ... oh yeah. Score city. "Sure, anything you want, Hanamura-sensei."

She reached over and started to unbutton his shirt.

Saeki vowed that he would stop by the shrine and send up some offerings first thing. Someone needed to be thanked for this windfall of fine female flesh. He happily reached up to slide his hands underneath her shirt.

It was a long, sweaty half an hour later when the two finally found themselves on the floor, idly tracing their hands over each other. Every now and then Hanamura would point to some piece of Saeki's anatomy and teasingly mumble a scientific name before treating it to a kiss or a caress.

Of course, that was when the door opened and Fuji Yumiko walked in, looking incredibly hot in a short black shirt and a low-cut black top. Her bitch boots clicked on the floor as she came to a rather surprised halt. She looked like a slut, but at least she was dressed.

Hanamura sprang up, grabbing the nearest article of clothing in a vain attempt to cover herself. "Who are you? What are you doing here?" she squawked, somewhat panicked. Dammit, she thought she had locked the door! Images of her brilliant career going down the toilet like so much refuse began to dance in her mind.

Yumiko studied the scene with pursed lips. "Hello, Kojiroh-kun. Yuuta told me you'd be here."

Saeki knew no such thing as shame. It was not even a word that graced his active vocabulary. Which meant the reason he was edging in the direction of the desk had more to do with 'hell hath no fury than a woman scorned' rather than anything to do with baring all to the world, "Hi, Yumiko ... how's IS Yuuta doing?"

"Well enough." The voice was brittle.

Hanamura was starting to hyperventilate. "Who-who is she, Kojiroh-kun?" she demanded, nudging him with her foot rather rudely.

"She's Fuji's sister," Saeki answered, diving behind the desk as though it were a bomb shelter. "We've been ... hmmm ... fucking." Finding no other way to put it, he just told it like it was. He smiled brightly and waved at them before ducking out of sight.

Yumiko was not to be deterred. She locked the door, trapping the three of them in the same room together. "It looks like you two have been, too!"

Hanamura was beginning to wish she hadn't gotten up that morning. The sex had been great, Saeki knew exactly how to make a woman purr, but the aftermath left something to seriously be desired.

"What's wrong with that?" Saeki asked from somewhere behind the desk, holding up a pencil like a flag of peace. "How else am I going to get out of that stupid fire accusation?"

"I don't have a problem with THAT!" Yumiko fumed. Her hands went to her hips in the time-honored tradition of women everywhere.

"You wanted to be invited?"

"Of course."

"Well, dammit, woman, you need to say these things before I leave the dorm in the morning." Saeki's head popped out from behind the desk.

"Well, there's no time like the present," Yumiko replied, smiling brilliantly, apparently forgiving the gaff.

Hanamura Aoi had always sworn she was straight as an arrow, but as Yumiko stripped her skirt down to reveal a very tantalizing G-string, she revised her sexual allegiance. Bi. Defiantly Bi.

The nice thing about being a demon - well, one of the nice things - was amazing healing capabilities. Not that Kirihara was a patch on Sengoku, but it still came in handy. Otherwise he would have been limping after such an exhaustive amount of sex.

Kirihara decided that skipping class would probably be a good idea while he sorted himself out. The fantastic fucking of the night before had definitely shaken him up more than he would ever be willing to admit - imagine, an angel knowing how to use his tongue like that. And Sengoku's hands were enough to tempt a saint into sin... ironic that Sengoku was supposedly one of the righteous.

Since he couldn't go back to his dorm room without provoking another encounter with He Who Must Not Be Named, and there was no way he was going down to Hell feeling as... well, vulnerable.... as he was, that left the tried and true hooky place of all students everywhere - the arcade.

Dan Taichi was old enough to have accumulated a few tricks at tracking others down. He could have gone the easy route and questioned Inui about how to find Kirihara, but for some reason, Inui wasn't around Hell. Dan figured he was probably doing his best to sex the enemy up for complete and unwatched access to The Library. It was Inui's type of quest.

So that left good old fashioned hunting. Otherwise known as bouncing from crime spot to crime spot and scenes of utter idleness in search of a demon at work. All in the guise of a little kid.

Dan grinned as he poked his head around the corner of the latest fighting game and spied Kirihara. "Can I play, Kirihara-kun?" he asked brightly, jingling some change in a suggestive manner.

Kirihara shut his eyes slowly, counting backwards from ten (skipping seven and three since demons always cheated), before turning around to meet his new company. The game behind him shrilled loudly, indicating the death of a character, but Kirihara didn't care. He'd been working on seeing how many of the cute little red-headed elves he could kill in five minutes, anyway.

"Dan-senpai." He stared hard at the shorter demon. "What are you doing here?"

Dan made innocent look #73, "I wanted to play video games."

"And you oh-so-conveniently choose the arcade I'm at?"

"I was in the area," Dan said, looking ever so falsely accused.

Kirihara rolled his eyes. "Do you really expect me to believe that?"

"Yes?"

There was a certain style to Dan's innocence that Kirihara couldn't help but admire. It was annoying, but most people would have fallen for those huge puppy eyes. Even a demon would think twice about saying something that could upset someone so naive. "Whatever," Kirihara finally conceded, unable to stand the cute expression. "I suppose you happen to think of something you wanted to talk to me about, since it's convenient?"

"Maybe," Dan climbed onto the game's pedestal to grasp the controls next to Kirihara, "But first I want to play!"

The overly-sharp tips of Kirihara's incisors flashed as he made room for the other demon. He was one of the best at this game - all the high records had his name attached to them. "Shall we?" he offered.

Dan slipped some change into the machine, "Yes!" Kirihara may have been good, but Dan was determined to try to be better.

Kirihara just smiled politely, preparing to thump the senior demon - only to end up getting blown away.

Dan giggled and blinked, smiled and beamed ... and then generously offered to play Kirihara again. Best two out of three, of course ... then three out of five ... and four out of seven ... Dan giggled again and pointed at the little red-headed elves on screen. "Those look like Sengoku-san!"

Kirihara's character died an abrupt death as he jerked his head around at the mention of that name. He really didn't want to think about the crazy angel.

"Mou, you died Kirihara-kun."

"I can see that," Kirihara replied sharply. Not only was Dan insufferably cute, but this winning thing was getting even more annoying. Kirihara couldn't figure out how he was being outclassed - he was already cheating, and Dan was still outscoring him!

Outscoring was simple matter when you happened to be cheating. Not minor cheating, fundamentally cheating. Nipping a little at the workings of the cosmos type of cheating. For Dan, if there was to be cheating, by the devil it would be unmatched cheating. He giggled again and hummed a little ditty under his breath, "We've got you dead, stake through your heart, cut of your head, and dance in your dust, ladadeda"

"You're tone-deaf," Kirihara growled in frustration. A demonic headache was about to start, he could feel the tension across his forehead. "What do you want, aside to put me in your own version of hell?"

"You should be careful, Kirihara-kun."

"Careful?" Kirihara echoed, more than a bit confused. Where in hell did that come from?

Dan let go of the controls and turned to smile sweetly at Kirihara. "Yukimura-kun doesn't like you any more."

"Yukimura?" Something was up, and Kirihara couldn't figure out what. "I've never meant the do-gooding twit." Wait... the way Dan had phrased that.... "You mean he liked me at one point?" The idea was repulsive.

Dan shook his head, "Not like that," he looked around, as if wondering if any mortals might be listening, "I mean he's actually paying attention to you ... and well ... wants you dead?"

It took less than .2 seconds for Kirihara to comprehend that one. Apparently his liaison with Sengoku had caught the attention of heaven's higher-ups and was not viewed favorably. "So? It's not like he ever ventures off of his ivory cloud. What can he do?"

"Yukimura-kun killed Satan-kun, remember?" Dan squinched his fingers together as if to mimic squishing a bug.

Kirihara had doubts about that, since he'd heard how ineffectual Yukimura was due to his weak constitution. "Uh-huh - and he hasn't been healthy since. He's a has-been."

Dan can hardly refute Kirihara when he happens to agree with him. "He'll find someone to do it for him."

"Like who? Sengoku isn't going to listen to him, Atobe doesn't listen to anyone, and Tezuka is a friend of mine." Okay, he was stretching the truth about Tezuka, but he foresaw the day when Tezuka would cave to the "let's eliminate Sengoku" plan.

"Fuji-kun."

Kirihara burst out laughing.

Dan blinked at him and then stomped his foot, "He would!"

"Fuji respects talent! I'm corrupting an archangel-" not precisely true, since Sengoku was already one of the most corrupt creatures Kirihara had met - "and plotting on damning a focus!" Kirihara shook his head, chuckling. "Really, I'm helping him. Fuji has no reason to destroy me." Never mind that Fuji didn't need reasons for most things he did.

"You're too young, Kirihara-kun," Dan sighed, "Fuji-kun will destroy you just to keep you away from Sengoku-san."

Kirihara's laughter ceased abruptly. "Why? Am I invading his turf? I thought Fuji was after Tezuka..."

"Do you really think he would want Sengoku-san to Fall?"

Kirihara had a simplistic view of the world. "Of course! Think of the blow that is to heaven!"

"Think what a blow it would be to Hell's hierarchy to have an archangel Fall. Fuji-kun's own position could possibly be threatened."

"If he's not strong enough to keep it, he deserves what he gets." Kirihara had plans for Fuji's position, anyway. In a few more millennia.... but maybe having Sengoku knock Fuji out of the pecking order would be beneficial. A whole bunch of new schemes began to dance through his mind.

Dan sighed, shaking his head. Why were the young ones always so short-sighted? "Fuji-kun will kill you before he lets that happen."

"I'll kill him first."

Dan stomped on Kirihara's toe. "Idiot!"

"Ouch!" Kirihara yelped, bouncing back from the video games. "I'm going to turn you into cinders!" he threatened, but was checked by the presence of humans who were suddenly paying too much attention to them.

"I want ice-cream and I want ice-cream right now!" Dan stomped his foot again. "Take me to ice-cream, Kirihara-kun!"

It really was no fair. He heard people talking about how horribly Kirihara was treating his younger brother. He grabbed Dan's arm and dragged him out of the arcade, wondering if pushing the little demon in front of a subway would attract too much notice. "What do you think you're doing?" he asked as they rushed down the sidewalk with no particular destination in mind.

"I'm getting us away from the humans, moron," Dan huffed, having to nearly run to keep up with Kirihara's pace. "And you're still an idiot."

This whole encounter was out of whack. An important question suddenly occurred to Kirihara. "Just why are you trying to help me, anyway?" No demon ever did anything without a personal gain.

Dan smirked, "If Fuji-kun kills you then my position is secure?"

Kirihara stopped, crossing his arms over his chest belligerently. "He's not going to kill me." Red flashed in his eyes. "I'm going to kill him first."

A finger stabbed itself between Kirihara's eyes, "You know who else had red eyes, Kirihara-kun?"

No one really sprung to mind, except for the demon who served as his sometimes-assistant. "Kabaji?"

Dan was tempted to kick Kirihara in the shin, "Were you born stupid or did you have to work to get that way?"

"You asked, I answered."

"Sah, never mind. You're too young to get it anyway."

That was really driving Kirihara nuts. Why was everyone obsessed with his age? "I'm not a child!"

"You're five hundred years old! Of course you're a child!"

"I'm 1,000, thank you!"

"That's a drop in the celestial bucket!"

"So? Youth breeds creativity!"

"And stupidity!"

"I am not stupid! When's the last time you damned someone personally?" Kirihara retorted.

"Akutsu Jin, angel!"

"You damn him every century! And he's currently in heaven, if you haven't notice! You're hardly efficient."

"Do you even know what Akutsu does?!"

"Nope." Their argument was again attracting onlookers. He grabbed Dan's hand and began to drag him along. "I don't care, either."

"That's why you'll never be great, Kirihara-kun."

"Like you know anything. Yukimura's not the only one whose stuck in a rut."

"So I'm old," Dan shrugged, "But I mean it ... how can you be the Lord of Hell if you don't know everything? Knowledge is power."

Kirihara slowed down just a bit. "I'm willing to learn." He even tolerated Sengoku as a mentor, after all.

"But you have the problem of Yukimura-kun now ... you don't have time to learn. That's why I'm telling you to be careful." Dan decided that being straightforward might actually manage to beat something into Kirihara's slow brain.

Kirihara smirked. "It'll take more than an archangel with a weird attachment to Sengoku to get rid of me. Besides, it's a moot argument. Fuji's not going to kill me."

"You're sleeping with Sengoku-san, aren't you?"

"So? It's all part of the plan."

"What plan?"

"First I get him to love me. Then... I slit his throat." A slightly dreamy smile splayed itself across Kirihara's expression. "There's nothing sweeter than betraying those who love you."

For a brief moment Dan's expression froze before he smiled brightly, "I was mistaken, Kirihara-kun! You don't have to worry about Fuji-kun or Yukimura-kun! You have bigger problems!"

"Like what?" Kirihara asked indulgently. It was so hard not to treat Dan like a child.

"Sengoku-san," was Dan's easy reply. He gave Kirihara this a look like he felt sorry for him.

Kirihara sniffed. "Hardly. He won't win."

"That's what Satan-kun thought too ... and we all know what happened to him."

Atobe's little corner of heaven was much like anyone would have expected.

Whenever Yukimura visited, he was always slightly impressed and amused by the surroundings his coworker lived in. The place was so opulent that Yukimura found it impossible to relax.

The long-suffering Jackal, an angel whom was Atobe's liegeman, opened the door after Yukimura rang it.

"Am I expected?" he asked.

"Just go right up to Atobe's study," Jackal said

Yukimura offered a slight smile of gratitude as Jackal shut the door. He had always been fond of the dark-skinned angel. "Thanks," he replied, taking a moment to study his surroundings.

Atobe used white and silver as his main decorating themes, with white marble stairs ascending into a huge mansion. The mansion was at least 100 rooms, but it was the foyer that always made Yukimura laugh inside. The dozens of statues of Atobe in all his angelic glory (and wearing nothing else), spoke of a narcissism which was impressive, to say the least. Atobe claimed he was a fan of the majesty of God's creative abilities, but Yukimura was off the private opinion Atobe was a fan of himself. He never mentioned it, since Atobe sometimes went dangerously close to becoming polytheistic with his self-worship.

With a shake of his head, Yukimura proceeded down the vaguely familiar halls. Atobe was always changing his surroundings, going from Asian to Western styles, and then off into the obscure. Yukimura had been fond of the place about 300 years ago, when the sparse beauty of Japanese architecture had reigned. Nowadays, the avant-guard sharpness spoke of American styles.

Atobe's study was carefully placed toward the back of the house, so everyone had to witness the glory of his taste before finally speaking to his magnificent self. The door to the office was currently metallic, and knocking on it stung Yukimura's knuckles.

"Come in," Atobe said, his rich voice somewhat muffled.

Yukimura was on the verge of a fit of laughter as he entered the room. This room was stylish in black and gray, which perfectly set off Atobe's complexion. Tezuka, who was sitting rather stiffly on a couch, was not so flattered. His warm coloring made him look a bit yellow.

"Hello," Yukimura said. "Thanks for coming."

Atobe rose from behind his glass and silver desk, a munificent smile on his face. "It's not a problem to offer you hospitality, in spite of the fact we're already short-handed with Sengoku and Tezuka both on earth and Yanagi on a research binge. Never mind that we've been covering for your illness, as well..."

Yukimura ignored the politely worded complaint, turning to Tezuka. "I know you were busy on earth, but something has come up."

Tezuka merely raised an eyebrow, wondering what could possibly be so important that he had to suffer through the opulence that is Atobe's office. Because it was suffering. A great suffering. He thought his eyes might be burning from having to see statues of Atobe naked.

"Oh?" Atobe raised his eyebrow in eloquent fashion.

"Have either of you been paying attention to Sengoku?"

Tezuka forcibly jerked his attention away from the horrifying imagery dancing through his brain. Sengoku? What about -- "Oh."

"Oh? What is our illustrious colleague up to now?" Atobe asked with irritation. "I haven't talked to him since I told him to check his messages - which he hasn't been doing. That secretary of his-"

"-is very well qualified," Yukimura said smoothly. "He's gotten involved with a demon, and..." Yukimura wondered if there was a delicate way to put it. "He's dangerously close to Falling."

"Kirihara?" was all Tezuka was curious about. The possibility of Sengoku Falling was something that needed a little time to work through his head.

"You know him, then. I haven't had the pleasure... technically speaking," Yukimura said. "Yes, he's sleeping with Kirihara."

"Is he an idiot?" Atobe asked with irritation. "There's no way that a demon will ever love someone openly, and without love, he's committing a rather large sin."

"Sengoku always thinks things through," Yukimura said, "but he's never going to make rational choices about Kirihara. Sengoku still feels guilty about Satan."

"I would not call it guilt exactly," Tezuka murmured, adjusting his glasses.

"Is this Kirihara the demon the one who we were talking about a couple of centuries ago?" Atobe asked.

"Yes, he's Satan reborn," Yukimura said. "I never warned Sengoku about him because I knew this would happen. And maybe I should have said regret instead of guilt, but that makes no difference. Sengoku getting dragged down to Hell would make a divine war unavoidable."

It was certainly a possibility. That kind of power shift would invariably cause instability. "And what do you suggest we do about it?"

"We remove Kirihara. It'll take another couple of millennia for him to be reborn, and by then Sengoku should have more distance from the situation." Yukimura hesitated. "Unless you can think of something better? I really don't want to kill him - it will create a vicious cycle." He coughed lightly, his face pale. "And taking him out the first time nearly killed me, and I don't want to sacrifice anyone."

There was a long moment of silence as Tezuka stared at some point in the distance, mulling the idea over. Elimination was certainly a possibility. "What about causing Kirihara to Rise?"

"Kirihara Of all people, you expect Kirihara to rise?" Atobe asked in disbelief.

"It would solve the problem permanently, would it not?" Tezuka paused, "And have the added benefit of keeping Sengoku busy and out of our way."

"There is some merit to the idea," Yukimura said. "Though unlike you, I don't see Sengoku as a problem."

"I do," Atobe said. "But how are you going to get Kirihara to rise? If he's anything like Satan was, he's a fruitcake."

"We can tell him repent or die," Yukimura said. "State the facts, and let Kirihara come to a logical conclusion.

Atobe sniffed. "I highly doubt he will. We've tried it on humans for centuries."

Tezuka finds himself in the unfortunate situation of agreeing with Atobe. "I doubt that approach would work."

"Or... we could thump it into his head," Yukimura said reluctantly. "There's a few angels with avenging positions Kirihara might enjoy... if we can make him a job offer he likes, that might work."

"Sanada might appreciate the assistance."

The ball was in Yukimura's court, and his expression acquired a slightly pinched look. "Sanada would be a good mentor," Yukimura agreed, but he sounded less than enthusiastic.

Atobe smiled predatorily to Yukimura. "He'll only go if you tell him to."

Yukimura's shoulders were tense as he considered the possibilities. If Sanada became Kirihara's mentor, that would neatly solve everything - but Yukimura would have less of Sanada's time. He didn't consider himself a selfish creature, and if it was for the greater good... "Let's talk to him," he suggested, sending out a mental invite to his right hand man.

There was a long moment in which Tezuka studied the furnishings, idly wondering why Yukimura, who professed to be sweetness and light had been set on simply eliminating Kirihara. Of course, it wasn't of great interest /now/, but it was something to fill the time while he waited for poor Sanada to navigate the horror-show that was Atobe's entry way.

Sanada pushed the door open and glowered in Atobe's direction, tapping his side absently and wishing the sword of the spirit was there. So he could stab something repeatedly. Like possibly his own eyes. "You wanted to speak with me?"

"You could knock," Atobe said. He and Sanada had never gotten along well. Sanada was just one step away from being an archangel, and Atobe didn't like rivals.

"Now, Atobe-san, we summoned him so it was obvious he was expected," Yukimura said, a slight smile on his lips. "Genichirou, thanks for coming."

Sanada just grunted in reply and slid to the side as if thinking of joining Tezuka on the couch. Since Tezuka at least could appreciate the appalling lack of taste that surrounded them.

Yukimura understood the grunt. "Sanada, I was wondering if you would be able to go down to earth with me."

The other three angels went rigid. Yukimura hadn't been down to earth in decades.

"Yanagi told you you couldn't go down to earth yet," Sanada replied, giving Yukimura a narrow look. Tezuka inclined his head in agreement.

"There's something I need to do," Yukimura said. "I'd appreciate your company."

"Seiichi ... "

Tezuka smoothly interrupted him, "It would hardly be wise to stress yourself over this, Yukimura."

"The possible end of the world? And I might be able to stop to it, by talking to a demon? I think-"

"I'll go, instead," Atobe inserted. He brushed his bangs with a graceful hand. It was rare that he offered to do anything for anyone else, but he liked Yukimura.

Sanada twitched at the very thought of having to accompany Atobe to earth, "I doubt it's necessary that either of you go."

"But-" Yukimura bit his lip. "The devil I need to talk to is not a pleasant creature."

"No devil is," Atobe agreed. "Are you sure Sanada can handle it by himself?"

Tezuka was tempted to roll his eyes at Yukimura's dramatics. It was hardly going to mean the end of the world and of course devils were unpleasant.

"Better than letting you handle it," Sanada replied.

"Are you implying I'm incompetent?" Atobe asked, clenching his fists.

"Merely incapable."

Atobe twitched, but Yukimura interrupted the impending blow up. "Well, maybe Genichirou can do this on his own..."

Now it was Tezuka's turn to make comments, "Sanada is hardly the subtle type. Unless you planned for him to beat Kirihara into submission and drag him up here."

"Kirihara?" was Sanada distracted question, caught between glowering at Atobe and focusing on Yukimura

"Yes, Kirihara Akaya," Yukimura answered.

Sanada frowned thoughtfully, "Why?"

"It's classified," Yukimura said hesitantly. "I can't let anyone who isn't directly involved in the mission to know."

Atobe, still fuming about Sanada's disrespectful attitude, nearly choked as he saw exactly what was happening. Yukimura was such a bastard.

Ever get that feeling that something is closing in on you? Sanada had that feeling often with Yukimura. His eyes narrowed, "Fine. I'll do it." It was just easier to give in and find out than beat around the bush. Occasionally, the thought of reassignment was very appealing ... if some of the alternatives weren't worse.

Yukimura beamed at him with a smile nearly as brilliant as one of Ohtori's. "Thank you!" he said... and then preceded to tell Sanada exactly what he would be doing.

Sanada sighed. It was going to be a long couple hundred years. If Yukimura's plan worked, that is.