Paved with Good Intentions
by surefall and aishuu
Disclaimer: Based on Prince of Tennis, by Konomi.
Notes: Crack fic at its most devilish. Let's take the horrid cliche of making the boys angels and devils and pump it full of semi-plotful sugar. Stir well.
Part 13 Summary: In which the plot keeps moving.


Part Thirteen: Sympathy for the Devil

It was the time of The Bouncing. A time of sadness and joy ... if either side really cared enough about a short term member of their side. Which they didn't. Not really, anyway. Akutsu Jin changed sides so much that he had two different divine addresses and his mail was forwarded to both since he would end up there within a decade at least. What most people didn't realize, though, was that it wasn't two addresses at all. It was just one address that happened to move with him and went by the name of Sengoku's office when it was being conspicuous and the name of That Pizza Death Hole in casual conversation. The scale beamed with glee during this changing of the Bounce. The clock meanwhile, was pissed the fark off. Bouncing? It held truck with no bouncing.

Yukimura was one of the few who really kept track of the office, since it was the best way to keep an eye on Sengoku. Eventually Sengoku would return - especially during The Bouncing. Sengoku always made sure the transition went smoothly, due mainly to an incident in 1687 involving a chandelier not being hung by strong enough chains. Akutsu had been knocked out when it came off the ceiling, and pinned there for three days.

That had been the incident that impelled the creation of then unknown fluorescent lighting, also known as mysterious ceiling illumination. It had come in quite useful as cheap backlighting for angelic presentation to the foolish mortal masses. Jin, himself, however, barely glanced up when Yukimura arrived, choosing merely to roll his cigar to the other side of the mouth. Cigars were the smoking vehicle of choice while moving through Purgatory.

"Hello, Akutsu-kun," Yukimura said pleasantly. He was used to the office's peculiarities, some of which became even more odd as it slid Down There. The toy snake he'd previously played with had grown fangs which dripped a rather interesting yellow venom and was hissing at him. Other small, demented changes, like the soft background disco music, were enough to make Yukimura feel less than comfortable. Disco, it should be noted, had been created by Niou when the devil had been feeling particularly inspired.

Jin, personally, was waiting for the snake to start growing a couple heads and speak in a human tongue. Then it could make itself useful and answer messages. Jin let the snake hiss at Yukimura instead of bothering to answer.

About the point that the snake might have thrown itself at Yukimura's throat if Jin had wished hard enough, the door bounced open and Sengoku bounced in. "What is with the disco music? I thought I specifically requested torture by Care Bears."

"Hello, Sen." Yukimura's smile was perfectly welcoming.

"Yukimura. Been talking with Fuji?" Could there be any other reason? Sengoku slid behind the desk to poke at the scale with singular focus.

"Why would I be talking to Fuji?" Yukimura asked, neatly sidestepping the need for truth. He went to take a seat next to the desk, ignoring the sounds of a skirmish coming from behind him.

"For all the usual reasons, no doubt."

"You're paranoid, as usual."

"With good reason, ne?"

"Perhaps." Yukimura stared at the clock, which had inched two minutes closer to doomsday since his last visit. "But you give people cause to worry."

"You act as though I won't do what's necessary to fulfill my duty." Sengoku fished a ruler idly out from under a bookcase so he could measure the bottom of the scale.

"I'm just concerned that you'll decide that your duty has changed."

"Why? Do you think I would forsake the Father?"

"Show me your wings," Yukimura said softly, again avoiding the question.

"You want me to manifest?"

"Yes." Yukimura's eyes met Sengoku's gaze neutrally.

Sengoku tapped Jin with the ruler. "Oi, I'm hungry. Go get some of the terrifying Purgatory grub."

Jin narrowed his eyes at the person taking liberties with his finely gelled hair. "What do I get out of it?"

"I'll stuff the clock in a closet." The closet banged its doors protest and Jin smirked at it.

"Sure thing, boss."

Sengoku waited patiently for Jin to get his feet of the desk, tuck his hands into his pockets, and swagger to the door, trailing smoke as he went. The moment the seat was free, Sengoku flopped down in it and stuck his own legs up on the desk. "You do realize that they never change, Seiichi, and they never will."

"You know that's not what I need to see. I need to see your power, and what its current shape is."

"Che. No faith at all."

"Just do it."

"And if I refuse?"

"That will be an answer in and of itself."

"It might be fun to be distrusted openly again."

"Is that your choice?" Yukimura wasn't in the mood to play Sengoku's games.

"You'll have to give me a better reason than the soothing of your petty suspicions if you want me to upset the balance of my plans."

"Sanada talked to Kirihara." That should be reason enough, Yukimura knew.

"And?" That was something of mild curiosity, there.

"We won't be able to work with him." It was a bit galling to admit that. "At least not right now."

"I suspected not." Sengoku snapped his fingers to form a flame and idly bounced it from one finger to the other.

The image of Sengoku playing with fire made Yukimura queasy. "Sen, you can't be doing this."

"Can't enjoy it while it lasts?" The flame caught itself on nothing and expanded, wreathing Sengoku's hand in flames and sliding tendrils up his arm.

"Sengoku, I will not allow you to Fall." It was out in the open, now.

The flames puffed out leaving only a slight smoke trail in its wake. "It isn't your decision to make, Yukimura."

"Sengoku... we've been friends for a while," Yukimura said. "It's my job as your friend to tell you when you're being an idiot. Right now, you're not CAPABLE of making sane decisions."

"You act as if enjoying his presence for this short while is actually going to matter when it comes down to ending this. Did it matter before? No. Will it matter in the future? No. I will do my job as I have always done my job, whether you like the job or not."

"I don't want to see you hurt," Yukimura said softly.

"No. You just don't want to see me Fall."

"That's part of it, but even if you manage not to Fall on your own, this will still wound you." Yukimura raised fingers to his heart, as though he could touch tangible emotions. "You're not just your duty - you're a creature who needs as well."

Sengoku shrugged. "It doesn't matter, faith is enough."

"Do you honestly think that is God's plan, to deny you of your sense of self and turn you into some kind of prayer-laden robot? Faith comes from the heart," Yukimura said. He gripped his chair as the office shook slightly, still not settled from the rather long fall from Heaven to Purgatory.

Sengoku stuck a foot out to stop the red phone from trying to take a suicide leap off the desk. He nudged it back into place before replying, "You really need to stop assuming things about me. You also need to make up your mind. On the one hand you're gung-ho about the death of Kirihara and then on the other hand you're whining about my goddamn feelings."

"It's a moral dilemma, Sengoku," Yukimura said. "I know what you feel for him." Yukimura's hand went to his chest again, as he stared upwards slightly. "I'm not sure what the solution is, but you are closing yourself off." The clock teetered precariously, and Yukimura managed to ignore the stack of pizza boxes which tipped over, narrowly missing being killed by the four that somehow flew OVER him despite the law of gravity.

"When have I not been closed off, eh?" Sengoku was beginning to wonder if Yukimura was a glutton for drama. The clock flashed Sengoku a ceramic bird. He stuck his tongue out at it. The bird flew across the room on it's twisty spring and clocked him in the forehead. "Ow!"

Yukimura sighed as the bird made its way back to its place of origin. "Sengoku, I know you think you're in control - but sometimes things don't work out the way we expect. Kirihara may be the reincarnation of Satan, but he's not Satan himself. He's different, this time."

Sengoku rubbed the point of impact while giving the clock the evil eye. "Yeah, he's twice as much of a moron."

"Perhaps." Yukimura smiled slightly. "But that's one of the things you love him for."

"Che, it just makes him more malleable to manipulation."

As he stared at Sengoku, Yukimura felt his heart twist. He could remember when they had both been younger, remember the fire and passion that had lit them with purpose. Now Sengoku was a world-weary cynic, and he himself manipulated his best friends. "I envy him," said Yukimura softly. "He's got another chance at a fresh start."

"As will you one day. Something to look forward to, I guess."

"Maybe - or I could be around to the very end," Yukimura said. He was tired of all this, but knew his time wasn't done yet. The room seemed to have settled for the moment, which meant it would be a good time to leave. Yukimura rose to his feet, walking around the desk to offer Sengoku a hug. "Sometimes I think we've both lived too long," he whispered into Sengoku's hair. "But we can't give up."

Sengoku reached up to tug on a coil of Yukimura's hair in return. "Hhmm, save the pep talks for those who need it, Seiichi, it's only been a little while since the beginning."

Yukimura's smile was melancholy as he pulled away. "I'll remember that if you remember that you're not omniscient."

"How could I forget it when you remind me of it every time I see you?"

Yukimura knew better than to retort. Instead, he picked the snake off of the desk, watching as the venom dripped - right before throwing it at Sengoku.

Thwock! Bounce! Hiss! The snake flailed on the desk and slithered under Sengoku's palm to hiss with wrath in Yukimura's direction. Clearly, it wanted vengeance for it's unfortunate flight. "Aww, look, you hurt its feelings. It'll never forgive you" Never mind the fact that he had two fang punctures on his cheek and was beginning to spurt blood in a truly comical manner.

"It'll forgive me when it comes back to heaven," Yukimura replied. "Heaven's about forgiveness." He smiled in challenge.

There was a long moment of silence as Sengoku rubbed a finger under the snake's chin while it hissed with pleasure and twitched it's coils. "Really? I would never have guessed .... did you ask God to forgive you for conspiring to murder your elders, then?"

"I don't know how much longer you'll be my senpai, Sengoku. It could be seen as a preemptive strike," Yukimura said, turning and taking the door out on that parting shot.

"Longer than you think," he murmured in reply, watching Yukimura's withdrawal, which was the cue for Jin's entrance.

Jin looked at the departing Yukimura's back, looked at the blood still spurting from Sengoku's cheek, looked at the blood pooling on the floor. "If I slip on that, I get to sue you for benefits." He walked straight for it.

"Which means you're going to slip on it."

"Damn straight, boss." Slip! The already bad Purgatory food went flying onto the floor, where the grime only increased it's edibility. "Argh, I've fallen and I can't reach my smokes."

"Such a sad, sad development. I guess this means I'll have to do battle with the clock in your stead." Sengoku shook his head sadly as he swung out of the chair and fished a seven foot spear out of a three inch drawer.

"Shit no, gimme a spear." A spear was provided from that same three inch drawer while the clock made a clanking noise of protest and sent a barrage of glass shards flying across the room.

"Oh, that's it, clock. You going down. Charge!"

"YARGGHGGGG!!!!"

In the past week, Oishi had learned something: the best cure for a hangover was drinking more. Angels had to drink a lot to be drunk, so he'd been drinking continuously to maintain that state.

He just didn't want to think about his actions. Or about Shinji. Or about Tezuka, who he hadn't seen in that week since he hadn't gone back home. Or about the way Eiji kept crawling all over him and how tempted he was to just give in.

Eiji , meanwhile, was in a state of near glee. Oishi was an official drunk! Abandoned by his oh-so-holy-stick-up-the-ass-protector! A failure at all he put his hand to! Truly, it was a day blessed by all the Big Bads in the best days of Badiness. He purred, he petted, he fondled Oishi in intimate places, he whispered sweet silvered nothings in his ear, and most of all ... he helped him drink that sake.

They sat in one of the grungiest pubs in the city, a place about five steps below the caliber of The Lounge. The pub was filled with smoke from illegal narcotics, but what Oishi learned to appreciate was the wait staff, which didn't see anything odd about how long they'd been there or the fact they'd already drank enough to kill most humans. He did think the bartender needed to learn to mix drinks better, though. The Red Headed Slut he'd had ordered had been light on Peach Schnapps, and after the incident with the Sex On The Beach, he'd decided to stick to sake.

"Mmmmm," grungy joints were just a devil's kind of dive, "Oishi-kun, you sure Tezuka wouldn't want to help you do horrible things to you-know-who."

Oishi's eyes teared up. "I'm doing it because I love him!" he announced, sniffling. He really didn't want to think too deeply on killing Fuji.

Eiji choked, "What?!"

Oishi nodded. "He's my bestest friend!"

"But you're supposed to be in lust with me!!"

"I love you, too!" Oishi proclaimed loudly. "That's my job - I love people!"

"No, no, no! You have to lust me, Oishi-kun, LUST me!"

"I do that, too," Oishi said. "But I love you even more!" Another jug of sake seemed to have become mysteriously empty.

Eiji wibbled. It wasn't fair. The lust couldn't be used to make Oishi fall if Oishi loved him ... that sucked. That royally sucked. Heaven must have it in for him. He sighed, draping himself across Oishi's shoulders, "Well, you don't love me enough to Fall for me ... "

"If I fell, I wouldn't be able to love you..." The alcohol had long ago stopped burning his throat, Oishi realized vaguely as he emptied his next cup in one large gulp.

Eiji made a little huffing noise against Oishi's ear. "It's not like it changes you or anything ... you have to hide the loving behind lots and lots of sex. You would like that, neh?"

"I never hide my feelings! I looooooovvvvvvvvve you!" Oishi announced, glomping onto Eiji. It was a statement of the quality of the bar that they didn't attract any attention, even though Oishi was yelling.

Eiji couldn't handle the blast of true angelic loving, flailing as the shining rays of it tried to burn his demonic nature. "Ah, stop that!"

Oishi toned down the effect by about ten watts. "Sorry." Sniff, sniff.

Eiji cringed a little before sighing and coiling himself around Oishi again, "Don't you know any other angels? Any of them? Just a little bit dubious? I know some devils ... " Oishi began yelling something again. Eiji sighed again. He was going in circles. It was going no where. Who would have thought that a drunk Oishi would be harder to seduce than a sober one? It wasn't FAIR!

Trying to find a place where he could plot the destruction of Fuji and Sengoku was getting harder and harder. The arcade was out, campus was out, and he definitely couldn't go to a bar. So Kirihara went to the next best place... a used car dealership.

Nobody noticed the devil who was currently blasting music in the BMW at the back of the lot. He'd already rolled back the mileage, saving the owner a bit of time, in what he felt was a fair exchange, so his "I'm not here, you're hearing things" spell was excusable. Kirihara liked to help these people when he could, after all.

Inui, in search of the wayward demon, popped into existence and strolled up to the BMW with the utmost casualness, dressed in a zoot suit of questionable taste and wing-tipped shoes of equally questionable taste. He leaned forward to peer inside the vehicle and knocked, awaiting an answer.

This mission, for it was in a sense a mission, was of the utmost importance to Inui. He had been sneaking a peek at the book of current history, which had been literally writing itself before his eyes. Thankfully, Yanagi had been distracted by an unfortunate collection of asshole demons with a grudge to pick with a selection of books. It wasn't Inui's doing ... really ... it wasn't. Okay, so it was. He was glad he had done it too, because it seemed quite a bit was afoot in the world ... a very interesting amount of afootness, all of which could benefit him in properly applied. Which was what had brought him a knocking on Kirihara's BMW window.

Kirihara hit the button to scroll the glass down. He hadn't expected Inui to seek him out, but considering Dan had already tried to mess with him, it wasn't a huge surprise. "Go away," he snarled, before trying to raise the window again.

Inui wasn't fool enough to stick his fingers in the window, so instead he used bit of sticking power on it instead. "I have information that may be of some interest to you."

Kirihara was immediately suspicious. The data demon never did anything that didn't benefit him. "What's it going to cost me?"

"You can owe me a ... favor."

"A small favor," Kirihara countered. "And I get to say yes or no until we find one we agree on." A favor wasn't something to be given lightly.

Inui considered this and found it reasonable, mainly because giving the information to Kirihara was already going to benefit him and the favor was just a side benefit ... it never hurt to have side benefits from the former Satan, after all. "That would be acceptable."

Kirihara hit the auto-lock to open the passenger side. "Come into my parlor," he purred.

Inui slid into the car with all the dignity that a man in a zoot suit can manage, pulling the door firmly closed behind him. "I was examining recent history and certain ... revelations have come to my attention," Inui didn't beat around the bush.

Of course his recent liaison with Sengoku sprang to mind immediately. "So? I'm not doing anything wrong!"

"Of course not, you are being exceptionally efficient in damaging that archangel's reputation." Not that Sengoku seemed to have a reputation of any worth to start with ... but Kirihara didn't need to know that.

The complement didn't relax Kirihara. If it wasn't Sengoku.... it was probably his plans to kill Fuji. But... he didn't dare say anything, because there was the high chance that Inui was merely trying to trick information out of him. "Hn," he snorted. "Then what is it?"

"What do you know about angelic or demonic rebirth?"

"It would screw up my work," Kirihara said with annoyance. "I'd hate having to kill Fu- Sengoku over and over." A wicked grin that displayed his overly sharp incisors was offered. "Means I have to completely destroy him the first time."

Inui looked ever so mildly amused, reminded of a certain bed conversation between Kirihara and his archangel. Perhaps the young demon was a bit thick upstairs. "True rebirth is very rare Kirihara. There are only three known cases in history and all of them are people who were very high up in the power structure."

"Sengoku is pretty high up there..." Kirihara replied, before raising an eyebrow. "Three?"

"Yes. One of them you wouldn't know about, so it doesn't concern you. The other is in your math class ... and you are the third." Inui leaned back to watch the percolation of that.

Inui smirked, "You're a very high level demon reborn, Kirihara. Want to know which one?"

"Try me." Kirihara didn't believe a word of what Inui was saying, but it would help to know what Inui was planning.

"Satan."

Kirihara started to laugh. "Pull the other one."

"Whether you believe me or not is your own business ... though it might also interest you to know that the one in your math class is Fuji's brother. I guess that means he helped to kill you before."

Kirihara's laughter gained a hysterical edge. "So I need to kill Mizuki now, too?"

"Of course not, it's Yuuta. Convenient that he wasn't reborn with his power intact."

Kirihara's eyes went wide as the name clicked. "Yuuta was involved in the conspiracy to kill Satan..." he said, remembering what Sengoku had told him.

"Yes." Finally, they were getting somewhere. Inui was beginning to think that he was going to have to lead Kirihara around by the hand. Not that this was a bad quality in a hopefully future Lord of Hell.

"Satan.. was insane. I'm not," Kirihara retorted.

"Satan didn't start out insane, he only became that way after he was Lord of Hell."

Kirihara bit his lip, wanting to deny all this, but a slight ringing in his ears was confusing him. "They killed me," he whispered. "Yuuta... I trusted him, and he... but I got even, right? Sengoku..." His eyes became glazed.

Considering the quality of Yuuta's existence, Inui was of the opinion that Kirihara had indeed got even. "Yes, you revenged yourself quite well on Yuuta."

"I tore him apart..."

"You damaged Yukimura, stole Fuji's brother ... "

"But Sengoku got away." Kirihara licked his lips. "All I could do was curse him..."

"If you did, it was hardly effective." Dubious though the archangel may be, he was not exactly looking bunged up by getting leveled with a demon's true curse.

"I'll have to do better this time." Kirihara suddenly shook his head, and the eyes were flaming bright red. Looking closely, Inui could see flames literally dancing on the inside, the eyes that had once frightened all creatures returning to the fore. "I need to finish what I started."

"Perhaps you can start with Fuji ... since he took your place in Hell." The suggestion was risky on principle. No one had been safe from Satan's mercurial wraths in the past, and Inui was prepared to teleport at the slightest inclination that the wrath would be directed at him.

Kirihara laughed softly. "Oh, no... that comes later." A quick hand suddenly grabbed Inui's neck, and held onto him by his aura. "I'm going to start with YOU," he whispered.

This was not in Inui's calculations at all. He struggled to teleport and failed miserably, finding himself well and truly trapped, which was the point that terror began to set in. He couldn't die right not, not yet! "You owe me a favor, remember?" Inui gasped out around Kirihara's grip.

"But I get to decide what the favor is..." Kirihara said. "Letting you live is a large favor.... maybe I should make you my first subordinate." His lips twisted, and he leaned forward to kiss Inui's forehead... branding him with his power.

Inui shivered. The brand was like a noose around his neck, even though it was better than being dead.

"We're going to take Hell back... but first I have to remind people what Hell should be like. Fuji's too complacent, too kind." His fingers dug into Inui's neck even more deeply, poking at the fabric of Inui's being. It had to be agonizing, but Kirihara had known worse pain.

Inui's gasps became choking sounds as he writhed in the other demon's grip. It was agonizing, it was a torment of hell that demons only saved from the pitiful mortals in their domain. Inui clawed madly at Kirihara's wrist, trying to make him let go.

"First things first," Kirihara said pleasantly. "We'll set some rules. You tell no one anything about me. You tell me what I want to know. And you don't conspire against me. Three little rules, not too hard to remember."

Inui nodded. Anything as long as Kirihara let go!

"Good boy." The fingers unwound slightly, but the eyes continued to blaze. "Now, tell me everything you know or think about Sengoku."

Inui gasped with relief, his thoughts running about wildly before they settled themselves with the return of sufficient oxygen, "It's not much: name, rank, serial number. He's at least as old as Yukimura and has been an archangel probably as long. He's also one of the ones who conspired to kill you before. But beyond that ... I don't know much else about him. I didn't even know he was an archangel until recently."

"He's still damn good," Kirihara murmured thoughtfully. "Let me tell you a few things about him."

It would have been hard to believe for most people, but the Apocalypse became significantly closer, at that moment, in a used car lot.