A/N: I do not own or profit from any of what Kazue Kato has created.

Their ride was one fancy car. It didn't hold a candle to Mephisto's private one, but it did on the other hand look more professional. More "exorcistic". It was sleek and black, with tinted windows, and it had a separating wall between the front seats and the back seats. And it smelled faintly of mint and expensive after-shave.

"Hey, I was thinking…" Shiro had braided his fingers together behind his head, slouching comfortably in the large seat. "Basically everyone I know has figured out that we have a connection. Denying it just makes it look like we're trying to hide something." He glanced over at the only other occupant in the car, who sat a lot more… correct… than he did. Daintily was probably a better word for the straight back and the effeminately crossed legs. "Isn't it about time to go official? Say that we know each other, make it seem less suspicious and more like ordinary friendship?"

"Ordinary?" Green eyes looked up from the latest issue of Shoujo Friend. "Your concept of ordinary might be a little askew, but I can assure you that most would not think of friendship between a human and a demon as anywhere near ordinary."

"Someone's gotta be first." Shiro shrugged against the leather covering. "You were the first demon to hold a position within the Order; why not be the first to have a human friend?"

"That took a lot of effort, mind you. A seed will not grow if sown in too harsh conditions." Then... Mephisto did that thing again; thought so fast that the reflections flitted over his eyes like a flock of crows at dusk fall. Shiro could only guess at what conclusion he reached, but when the demon spoke again his tone was still far off in thought: "But perhaps conditions are just right… We shall allow the first meeting to pass, and, if the climate is favourable, it might be time to sow a seed that will move the world yet another step away from the fears and phantasms of the Middle Ages." Mephisto returned to his reading, but left one final comment for him: "Be aware, you take a gamble still. Such an announcement might worsen relations with your classmates rather than solve the tension."

"Or it might not." Shiro lowered his hands again and fiddled restlessly with an unlit cigarette. "Saw through that straight away, did he…?" he pondered, unable to feel properly surprised. "Even when I close my heart off. Not that it was that hard to figure out, and I did leave a small crack open… still…" His brow furrowed, and his eyes travelled idly over the forested landscape outside the tinted window. "The imprint is his: what if-"

"Sorry…?" He turned his attention back to the inside of the car.

"How did we meet?" Mephisto repeated in matter-of-factly tones, still reading his manga.

"What? I broke into your office and got a Naberius through the barrier."

"Yes, and that would make a charming story when people wonder how this peculiar friendship came to be."

"Oh. Right, now I get it." Hadn't thought about it, but they would need a more legally acceptable explanation… preferably one that actually sounded credible… "We could've met at the game arcade."

"Unfortunately, no."

"What's wrong with that?"

"I've been banned from the premises since 1973", he said and turned another page.

"You, banned?" Now that was a story he had to hear. "For what? Sexual harassment?"

"What do you think of me?" he snorted and shot him an indignant glare. "I was accused of feeding the machine fake coins; I couldn't very well say that I was using magic to run as many games of Space Race as I wanted."

…yeah, Shiro could see that happen.

"You stingy old bat…" he grinned, shoulders trembling with laughter. "How about we met at the race tracks, then?"

At this, Mephisto gave him a quizzical sideways glance.

"Aren't you a minor…?"

"Ah, forgot that." That technicality didn't stop him form betting in horse races, but it wouldn't make a very good official story. "Um…" What other places did he frequent that Mephisto might also visit…? "Do you go to the night market?"

"Not for many years now. We could have met at a bookshop?"

"Uh, no. I don't usually read… that stuff." He made a half-hearted gesture at the new chapters of Haikara-san ga Touru that Mephisto was engrossed in. "Berusayu no Bara was the first manga series I ever read, actually. I've never even been to a bookshop: you're my private library, sort of…" Mephisto gazed at him with a look that was both aghast and astounded. "How about the cinema?" …Shiro almost punched himself. "What am I thinking? I only go to the cinema on dates."

"Impossible: I buy all the tickets for the show when I go to the cinema."

...yes, Mephisto was good at contradictive behaviors, but that just didn't add up. At all.

"You won't pay fifty yen to play the arcades, but you pay to have a whole movie theatre to yourself…?"

"I prefer watching my films in comfort, and that was simply not had in any other way. There would always be some visitor complaining about my height, so I was forced to sit at the far back of the theatre. And there was no way I could bend space for my legs without anyone noticing. You people are so short, it's incredible. I had the railway to the Academy custom built after I rode the Tokyo Touden and couldn't even stand straight."

"Snrrrrkkukukuku…" Shiro could vividly picture how, at the cinema, the shadow of Mephisto's curl bobbed at the centre of the projection screen, and how it vibrated in annoyance on a tram where he could neither stand straight up or fit himself into the small seats. It was a thing of joy. "Hearing of your tremendous hardships really warms my heart, you know…"

The exchange deteriorated to be less and less about likely connection points, and more and more a game of suggesting the most far-fetched places in which they could have met, each from their own list of references.

"We could have met at the Tokyo Takarazuka Theatre", Mephisto proposed.

"…seriously? You even want your women to look like men?"

"No, you monkey", he snorted, and launched into one of those peculiar, theatrical monologues that led Shiro to suspect that the Mephistopheles in the old operas were based on a real-life reference: "A woman should have the movements of a gentle breeze in cherry branches, the looks of a nymph risen from dreams unspoken, and the song of the sirens burning in her veins~" It made it all the more funny that Mephisto gestured like a Kabuki actor when he described his ideal woman. "The Takarazuka troupes accept only the most beautiful, most promising actresses in the country: the entertainment in their performances is twofold."

"Amen to that. And I was there because…" He didn't want to take the obvious option and say he'd been dating one of the actresses. Something more creative. Something more... "I was part of the catering crew that supplied food in the pause", he concluded. "I did have a catering job for a short time, you know. Until they decided to adopt a no-smoking policy for everybody that handled food."

"I suppose I met you after finding a cigarette butt in the bouffet and having a word with your employer." Mephisto raised his eyebrows and flipped another page in his magazine.

"Oi, that's how much faith you have in me? What actually happened was that they didn't like that I sneaked little bits to taste from the dishes. The no-smoking-employees thing was just something they made up to have reason enough to fire me." Shiro gave Mephisto a sideways look that was sheepish and impish at the same time. "After that they found cigarettes in the bouffet." He stretched and took a peek out the window. They had been driving for quite a while now. The road had begun meandering and gain altitude in a landscape that to his city eyes looked wild and exciting. "I couldn't afford a ticket to Takarazuka in real life, otherwise that story would've actually worked. My turn…" He folded his hands behind his head and stared hard at the ceiling. What was the unlikeliest place you'd ever find Mephisto…? "Okay, okay, how about this: we met at the abandoned military storage sheds where the motorcycle gangs meet."

"What is it that makes all human boys want to increase their odds of a premature death?" Mephisto groaned. "Right, right: I was there…" He fingered the chain to his exorcist badge contemplatively.

"Because someone accidentally summoned you", Shiro suggested with a huge grin. The image of a befuddled demon clown randomly poofing into existence among the bikers was just gorgeous - especially if Mephisto happened to be sleeping or something. Oh god yes. A demon hugging a unicorn plushie, hell he would probably not even wake up.

"It would take one exceptionally gifted human to accidentally summon me", Mephisto chortled. "The only reason I could possibly find myself at such a location is because I'd sensed unusual demonic activity. Not unlikely, given the clientele in such gangs." His gaze turned back to Shiro. "I probably met you when you almost ran me over."

"Might've tried, if I'd had a bike", Shiro admitted, snickering at the idea. "I was never really part of the gang, just hung around for the girls. Man, biker girls…! Not exactly gentle breezes in cherries", he grinned wolfishly, "but their fruits are sweet and bountiful." He rubbed the meagre stubble of beard on his chin. Hadn't had time to shave before they left, but the razor was packed with the rest of his things in the duffel on the car floor. "I was just fifteen or something back then; way too short and scrawny to ride a bike. Couldn't afford one, either. Now maybe I could do it, if I had the money." He chortled at the remembered sounds and scents that tickled recollection. "And if I hadn't stolen one of the bikers' girlfriend: wrong way to gain notoriety in those circles. I was lucky he got done in by the yakuza before he hunted me down. The girl was worth it, though." He whistled, indicating with his hands exactly what kind of fruits one could expect from a biker's chick. "Though, in retrospect, I suppose not. It could've ended really bad."

"Badly", Mephisto corrected.

"You and Shizu-san…" He didn't really like it, how his thoughts recoiled from the topic when it brushed past. "It's amazing I'm still alive, with all the stupid things I've done."

"Indeed." The demon chuckled and turned a page. "I get a prickling feeling that I've accidentally done a good deed in getting you into exorcist cram school."

"Must feel horrible."

"You can't even imagine."

"Your dad would be ashamed of you."

"If he could feel shame, yes."

"Seriously, though…" It was so stupid, but he was so curious… He didn't want to pry, and yet he'd itched to ask ever since he found out who Mephisto was. "What's it like to have a dad like him?"

To his surprise, the smile on the demon's lips only grew wider.

"Of all the questions, you pick that one? Wondering why I came to Assiah, why I joined the Order, why I hide my true identity – and that is the first question that comes to your lips?" He turned a page with a merry chuckle. "It's like outpacing thought."

"What?" Shiro had never been the kind to spend hours pondering Zen riddles, and he was at a complete loss when faced with this one. "Yeah, smile a little wider; I'm not gonna ask you to explain so you can make fun of me for being a monkey." But how do you outpace a thought? What did that even mean…? "If you don't wanna answer just say so."

"I did answer: it's not my problem if you don't understand it~"

So childish, that son of a…! No, don't rise to the taunt. Mephisto called him stupid? He could do stupid…

"I understand it", he claimed with a huff, measuring the amount of annoyance he let show. "You can't outpace thought 'cause it's too fast, but I can't see how your dad being fast is any answer to the question." It sounded like his usual piqued tone, hopefully… and just the right degree of impertinent. "And it's obvious that he's more powerful, too, so you can't overcome him: a kid could figure that out, so it's no answer at all." And now: a Bright Idea… Shiro dropped Impertinent Annoyance and dressed his face in Curious Surprise. "Oh, I see… Satan doesn't really exist, does he? He's a thought, 'the darkness in the human heart', so he's not an actual person but an idea; an idea fuelled by so many people it's gained shape and consciousness, like-"

The magazine was flattened onto the white-uniformed lap: Mephisto had had enough.

"I can't fathom how you can be so unbelievably-" Click. Yes: to Shiro, it was almost audible when thoughts clicked in Mephisto's head. "Not stupid", he amended at the end of the sentence, taking Shiro in with a gaze that saw more than human eyes did. "Only making yourself out to be, to rile me into explaining." Mephisto grinned appreciatively. "How devious of you."

Shiro raised his hands slightly in surrender.

"Worth a try", he smiled. "Annoys the hell out of you, too, so it wasn't an entirely wasted effort."

"Indeed." He picked up his magazine again and pulled a face like one smelling something foul. "There is nothing worse than stupid people: exasperating, and completely useless."

"Aren't stupid people easier for demons to mislead?" Shiro inquired, surprised at the statement. "Not that hard to persuade, or am I entirely on the wrong track?"

"A prerequisite for manipulation is that there is something to manipulate", Mephisto said with a meaningful glance. "Manoeuvring a human of average intellect requires choice words and subtle persuasion; manoeuvring an imbecile requires a crowbar. And more patience than any demon has."

"I think you've got pretty good patience", Shiro chuckled at the demon's choice of words. "Haven't seen any crowbar yet." At least he wasn't an idiot, then. Just good at acting like one. Too good, some would say… "You've already listed the questions for me, so I'll stop beating around the bush: why did you join the enemy's side? And no goddamn koan."

"Enemies one can choose, but not family." Mephisto put his hand to his chest in a humble nod-bow. "Though born in Gehenna, my heart beats for Assiah and the human race, and all the wonders it invents on its quest for the stars~ This world has been my home for ages, a lovely and beautiful such: I merely do my part to keep it that way." He returned the gloved fingers to the pages of Shoujo Friend. "My father covets Assiah as much as I do, but not for the sake of humanity. What he wants to destroy, I wish to protect: that's why I joined the Order."

How grand. Words that were exactly what one could expect from Mephisto, but something between the chiming lines was jarringly off-key. Mephisto could not be that altruistically philanthropic. If it was truth that sounded like a lie, or a lie that sounded true… A mix of both, probably. It could be true, for all he knew, but Mephisto had a tongue of silver. And he was Satan's son.

"And your dad just let you waltz off to Assiah to work for the exorcists? I somehow find that hard to believe."

"Choice words, Shiro~" he smiled in that supremely self-satisfied way that only he could. "I left under the pretence of being a good son and intending to spread chaos in the world: keep up that pretence, and I can do as I please. If I say I join the Order to erode it from within there is no way for father to monitor me without blowing my cover, and thus he can't know what I'm actually doing." The paged rustled softly under his fingers. "I've always thought it a splendid irony that his boundless power is exactly what makes the boundaries of Assiah impossible for him to transcend."

That… that, Shiro's gut told him, was closer to the truth: because if Satan couldn't enter Assiah, Mephisto would be the biggest fish in the pond. And that… would suit his grand ego just fine.

Still, so many loopholes and question marks to twist lies into truth, and vice versa… a maze worse than das Labyrint des Limbus…

"Well, good job and welcome to Assiah. Going back to business, our best shot is probably meeting at school", Shiro mused aloud, deciding that mulling over the replies he'd gotten was better than pushing the matter and get his brain twisted into a knot.

"Maybe you just ran through the corridors, late for class, and collided with me when you turned a corner? I helped you gather up your papers and we started talking-"

"That sounds like a scene out of shoujo manga", Shiro observed in flat tones.

"What's wrong with that?" Mephisto had an incredibly good Innocent Face considering who he was.

"A million things, but mostly that it sounds like the kind of meeting that will end with dressing up in yukatas and holding hands while watching fireworks from a secluded viewpoint." Girls somehow found that very romantic. He had no idea why.

"Doesn't sound all that different from the end you had in mind just this morning~" …and in the blink of an eye, innocence was the last word you'd associate with that face.

"Yeah, that end…" Shiro rubbed his eyes with a groan. "Can we just agree that when I'm tired, you don't listen to a single word I say…?"

Being around Mephisto… He would never admit it out loud, but… it was sort of relaxing. He could even leave a small crack open to his heart, and it worked fine: Mephisto's presence seemed to keep most demons at a respectful distance.

Shiro refused to believe it was the invisible mark of the imprint in his heart. He was no more compatible with Mephisto than he was with anyone else. Sure, they had things in common, but they had even more differences. No, it wasn't magic or darkness that made him feel at ease around Satan's eldest. It was something stronger.

Secrets divide, but they can also bond. When you share something you would never share with anyone else, you place part of yourself in another's hands: an act of trust and respect that creates bonds stronger than steel or stone. And acceptance… to be accepted for what you are and what you've done, to have that respect and trust returned to you… that forges bonds solid.

None of his classmates would ever look at him again if they knew what he had done; no human would.

But a demon…

Mephisto knew what he had done, and he didn't bat an eye at the blood on Shiro's hands. He treated him the same as always, something Shiro had never expected he would be so grateful for; and unlike Midori's painted smile, Mephisto's was real. Full of fangs and wider than sanity and conscience would allow, yes, but real. The only real smile Shiro had seen in weeks.

Maybe he would never feel human around humans again; but with Mephisto, he did. He did, because it's only in contrast with bright light that you notice how dark the shadows are: and it's only in contrast with pitch black that you can perceive grey tones in shadow.

Like a moth unto flame…

He knew why moths fly to flame.

That flickering promise of warmth that lights the darkness, even if the vow of death comes with it… When the world turns its back on you, and every light is as cold and distant as the stars, the flame of hell still offers warmth.

Shiro pushed the chilling thought out of his mind with an even colder one: he'd been no saint to begin with. With or without Mephisto's interference, the path he'd paved for himself didn't lead skywards – and if you're going to hell, you might as well enjoy the ride. If Mephisto could make him forget the demons breathing down his neck, and his fate beyond the grave – even for just a moment –, then he didn't care if the bond between their hearts-

…eww.

The bond they had forged when he had lent his body to-

Uh, no.

The bond that had formed when he'd had Mephisto inside-

No.

"You're making strange faces, Shiro", Mephisto observed with a distrustful scowl. "Are you going to be carsick?"

"If I get sick, it's not from the car", he groaned.

A/N:

Koan – Zen riddle, a problem designed to provoke deep thought and measure a student's progress.

Many sharp turns in this chapter, huh…? =_=' I apologize for that, but Shiro is experiencing quite the emotional rollercoaster in my head. Cling to the light that slips his fingers, or embrace the darkness that welcomes him with open arms…?

…and do you recognise the "Zen riddle"? It's a small snippet from… (what, there's no translation?) …uh, Tors färd till Utgårdaloke. It's part of the Prose Edda written on Iceland in the 13th century; a part where Tor, Loke, and Tjalve are challenged by giants to prove their worth. Loke's challenge is to eat faster than Loge, but that didn't fit my intentions very well, so I used Tjalve's challenge: sprinting faster than Huge.

Those "tests" are laced with magic, of course. No matter how fast Loke eats, he can't eat faster (or more completely) than Loge, who is fire disguised as a man, and whose name means Flame. No matter how fast Tjalve runs, he can't outrun Huge, whose name means Thought.

…so, any ideas on what I intend with "It's like outpacing thought" in this chapter? Both Shiro's guesses are wrong. =P And writing your guesses is the only way you'll get to know, I'm not writing this out in the fic…