Almighty was what they called him.

Evil was what they sobbed when he tore their dignity to shreds.

A monster. A snake. Horrible. Despicable. Detestable.

"Ah, Sasuke, could you get me some flour at the market?"

And how they would laugh if they saw him now.

Chapter 27

This Painted Face I See Is Nothing to the Real Thing

All of Hell knew of his … visits. To Earth. To that small apartment.

But mostly to the grocery store.

The demons had great fun with the idea of it, he knew; of their ruthless and terrible leader doing mundane chores at the human supermarket. He could hear their cackles from his office, telling outrageous stories of him helping old ladies grab the cereal on the higher shelves and squeezing avocados to make sure they weren't too ripe.

Yeah, right.

"Neji," he sighed, a bit startled with how normal the name sounded on his tongue now. Just last year, the demon was a mere, fizzling soul in his infinite shelves of damned souls. Now, he was almost a right-hand man, of sorts. Though, Sasuke supposed with a smirk as a shadowy, horned figure came into his lair, secretary fits him better. "Go and shut them up, will you?"

White, blundering eyes narrowed as a not-very-hidden scowl tucked into the corners of his lips. "You want me to tell them?"

"I hate repeating myself."

"You're the Devil."

Yes, indeed, he was. He knew the whole schtick already: ruler of Eternal Damnation, Entity of Evil – God, he was so bored of it. Even the demons didn't dare bother with him, so what fun was there to be had if he told them to shut their fucking mouths before he tore their tongues out of their useless bodied?

But then again, Neji was new, so Sasuke supposed an example was in order.

"Come."

The Hyuuga, as stubborn as his cousin, only stayed back for a moment before, eventually, following his command, if only out of curiosity. With the sweep of his cloak, Sasuke was outside of the office and staring down at the foyer, where a multitude of demons lounged around, as if they had nothing better to do.

Sighing, Sasuke leaped down on the ashen cobblestone, hooves crashing into the floor and leaving a dent. All laughter and banter went silent as he turned to the closest demon, grabbed his horns, and ripped him in half. The others stared, no shock or terror in their gazes, as he flung the pieces onto the floor.

"Wasting your time," he mused, glancing at them. "What a shame."

And like that, they were gone and bringing terror onto Earth, and Sasuke turned and took the stairs back up to the small balcony overlooking the foyer, where Neji stood, stunned.

"We don't take kindly to the squeamish here," he told him, walking past him and returning to his office. "If you can't handle it, then you'll end up like that pathetic thing staining my floor."

And any normal demon might have gulped or nodded – but Neji, once his shock had faded, only gave him a look.

"Like Hinata would let you."

Damn it.

He was right, and Sasuke scowled down at his desk.

…

In Earth time, it might have been some time in the afternoon.

Hell, of course, did not follow the same time rules, but Sasuke was still very aware of it. He had to be. It was like the eternal clock in his body was ticking down the minutes to her coming home from school or work. When he could barely handle it, sometimes he'd just say fuck it and go find her.

Today was one of those days.

But … maybe that was his own fault.

…

In his chambers was a particular painting that had a reputation to portray the future.

For the past three thousand years, it has shown her face.

Hinata's.

There was a particular air around the paints of her face, flawless and lacking her usual blush, that had captured him the first moment he saw it. Warm. That's all he could call it at the time, before he knew the vibrant language humans had. It was warm and it made him feel warm.

In recent times, he found out that warmth was actually happiness, joy, glee.

Something Hinata did well.

And it was strange – because for so long, he looked at this face and knew, deep down, he was meant to find her. To bring her here. To give her that same expression that was painted on his wall.

But now … he felt like that would be a sin.

And despite being made totally out of sin, he did not wish to commence in this one.

Because the Hinata outside of the painting, living and breathing and smiling on Earth, had a sort of light in her eye and color to her face and softness in her skin that no piece of art, no matter how magical, could capture. She was sunny and vibrant and shifting – and that woman, trapped in those strokes of color, could not do anything but smile politely and look the same for eons.

The longer he looked at that face, the more he wanted to see the real one. The perfect one.

In Earth time, she would be in the middle of her evening shift.

But that hasn't stopped him before, and it won't stop him now.

…

When he reached the cafe, a hammering started in his chest, beating into his ribs and shooting air out of his lungs.

What?

He winced and growled.

Why now?

It only ever happened at Hinata's apartment. For it to start so suddenly, out of nowhere – well, it wasn't concerning, per se. Just … odd. Curious. But aside from causing great irritation, it did nothing to dent his resolve, and he shoved a shoulder into the door and stepped inside.

The people who worked there knew him and didn't bother to sit him, allowing him to find a place for himself. He immediately went to the table he knew well, liked the most, as it gave him a good view of the counter Hinata usually worked behind.

But … there was someone already there.

"Sas … uke?"

And the hammering roared.

His chest burned.

His ribs shook.

His throat tightened.

Because when he got there and looked down at the small human with black hair and black glasses hiding his eyes, he instantly became very aware of something.

In that chest, humming and burning and shaking at the same pace as the cavity in his own chest, was a soul.

Familiar and singing; singing his name.

Sasuke.

Chapter 27 - End