A/N: Credit for the cuteness in this chapter goes to Pheles-chan, and credit for tormenting one of the main characters is on Zeitdieb. ;3 What have I contributed, really...? ^_^' General musings around AnE-verse, I think... Oh well, I contribute with my dog, Tott. Because I really think Shiro should like dogs.
I do not own or profit from any of what Kazue Kato has created.
Disaster.
Shiro shed each piece of clothing with a heavy sigh.
Not a natural disaster that strikes without warning, indiscriminate in its fierceness and adhering to the laws of chaos alone, no: a human disaster. A disaster that creeps up on you in orderly fashion, hiding its destructive nature in the guise of good intentions. Slower by comparison, but just as devastating.
"We come from different traditions, but have worked side by side for long years: what made that possible, is respect. Respect allowed us to each lay half the distance behind, and join hands at the middle. Thus, we do not say 'an exorcist should not do his work': we say 'an exorcist's work can be done many ways'. When you evict humans from a place they have no right to stay in, you do not do so by shooting them down like dogs. Instead, you speak to them. You explain why they cannot stay, and offer them another place to live. The same can be done with demons. The Order of the True Cross promotes peace, and the way to peace need not be paved with bodies. Peace means no bloodshed; on either side."
The speaker for the Futotsuki, seated second from the middle of the table, nodded a small bow: the murmurs of interpreters kept droning a few seconds after he had silenced. Shiro nodded, too, and fought to keep his eyes from closing.
"Respect is important to all of us", he listened in from an interpreter translating Italian into Japanese. "Respect is the very foundation we build cooperation and brotherhood on. Respect, loyalty, and faith are what ties us together against the troops Gehenna sends to Assiah. It is an attack, and it is the purpose of the Order of the True Cross to protect. The Order wants peace, as you say; and in war, the price for peace is paid in blood. If we were to capture and relocate demons, that price would be paid in human blood: that is not, and never will be, an option for the Order of the True Cross."
"For troops, one raises arms to protect: for visitors, one raises a cup of greeting, as we have done for you. Many demons come here are not troops but visitors, and what we fight are the merely shadows of our own fear and ignorance. Demons are curious explorers, knowing nothing of our world and our ways; and like children, they do not know right and wrong without explanation. But they are quick studies, and with time and exposure to human culture they can become valuable allies: the Futotsuki have seen generation upon generation prove this true. You can hardly contest my words, sirs; seeing as you have living evidence of the truth in them seated in your midst."
Shiro slipped the tie over his head, keeping the knot for future use. The Futotsuki had addressed Mephisto often, one way or the other, hoping for support for their cause. He hadn't let them down – neither had he supported them. It was hard to tell what he had done, when you were that tired and didn't quite follow his billowing cadence.
"You speak like a true Futotsuki, Hiroshi-san, and that I say as a compliment. If ever there were a link between Assiah and Gehenna that made service like mine possible, it is you and your clansmen. It is true that I hold a most unique station within the Order; and yet, it is equally true that a familiar will turn against a tamer that loses his confidence. It is so because demon society is based on one rule, and one rule alone: might makes right. Demons either obey, or command. It's a crude rule to base an entire world on, but an effective such: the ones of power command, the ones of lesser power obey. The only way for demons and humans to coexist would be to bind every demon in Assiah to a human – and I fear there are simply too few humans strong enough of heart for that. Demons that are bound can serve the interests of the Order, as I do: but the ones that are not must be viewed as enemies. I will remind you: demons either command or obey; and if they do not obey the Order, they obey Satan."
Shiro folded his shirt, trousers, underwear, and uniform jacket and stacked them in the locker. The tie was placed on top together with his socks.
The disaster had gained momentum, like an avalanche. Human disasters are strange that way: humans create them, and they can stop them, but they don't. They just don't. Ironic as it was, the only one in the discussion that had maintained civilized behaviour was the one that was not human.
"They are capable of thinking and speaking like humans: all we ask is that they are treated accordingly. Even you must see, they are not animals!"
"If they were animals, there wouldn't be need for an organization to battle them. They are intelligent, I'll give you that, but they're creatures of evil with only two things in mind: corrupt and destroy. To liken them to humans is-"
"Is something you have never been willing to look away from your doctrine and admit. Demons have lived in these lands for thousands of years: they have half-human children here, and children's children. The mere fact that we can interbreed with them shows how close our species are! The methods you promote are equal to genoci-"
"You dare speak such blasphemy as to equal demons with humans! If they can interbreed with humans it's because the Devil made them a mockery image of the Lord's creation, to ruin it from the very core by defiling the seed of-"
"Gentlemen, gentlemen~ I believe I must once again intervene to clarify: demons and humans are not related, in any way. That we can bear and sire children in Assiah is possible only because we borrow bodies of Assian birth. Our presence alters the body, and its seed and eggs; any child conceived with such a body will be altered also. It is not the topic of our discussion whether or not we are related, however, but why we come in contact at all. Demons have indeed lived in Assiah for millennia; peacefully, one might even go as far as saying, but peace is not the intention of the one that sends them. Conquest requires no troops or weapons other than time. With time, humans grow used to the presence of demons; with time, demons grow in number, and grow to consider this land theirs. Demons are territorial, as you know, and they do not take kindly to beings, human or demon, that trespass on their grounds. It is therefore vital – essential, even – that humans do not tolerate demons on their land. I speak foremost of cities, villages, and places humans frequent: forests and mountains we lack the means to cover either way, and to hunt demons there is entirely unnecessary unless they are aggressive and prone to assailing humans. What the Order does, in essence, is to implement the very same rule demons have always adhered to: might makes right. It is the same rule you make use of in your bonding with your familiars, is it not?"
Lastly, Shiro put away his glasses, scrubbed himself off in the washing area, and grabbed a towel. Gods knew he needed this: there would be another meeting tomorrow, and it would be just as bad as this one.
Towel on head, he made for the natural hot spring that had been annexed to the ryokan. A bliss sigh ghosted into the steam as he lowered himself into the water. Nothing like a hot bath to ease the stiffness out of the body.
Shiro enjoyed the onsen almost as much as he enjoyed sleeping. The one advantage of sharing accommodation with all the wives and kids? He could have the men's section virtually to himself. Just lean back, arms comfortably spread over the edge of the natural pool… Shiro's attention lingered lazily on the seductive dance of the steam rivulets – white and winding, licking over the water without tickling its surface – and was reminded of the demons last night. What a birthday that had been… pebbles and puddles… there's no avoiding inconveniencies on life's path, so you might as well learn from them…
He sat. Nothing more, just sat: that is the greatest luxury a human being can have. He dozed slowly; nothing moved, as if time stood still… and that was the only reason he noticed the small waves lapping at his chest. Shiro strained his myopic eyes but saw no one – only a very dense swirl of steam that hovered close to the surfa-
"What are you doing here?!" He hurriedly pulled down the towel to wrap it around his hips. Yes, it got soaked. That didn't really matter at the moment. "They have an onsen back at your ryokan, too!"
"Yes, and it's full of diplomats and exorcists", the white dog pointed out as it swam over to him. "A lot less crowded here."
"…and because there's so much space, you sit in my lap?"
"It's the perfect height when I'm in dog form." And with that, he plopped his little body down on the submerged towel, which left only his head above the surface. "Ah~ nothing like a hot bath to ease the stiffness out of the body…" His ears drooped pleasantly along with his eyelids.
…and there was something in the whole aura of contentment around him that simply could not go unpunished.
"Get yourself some other seat." He rose sharply, and the detestably smug little dog plummeted underwater with a yelp. "I doubt dogs are even allowed in-fwehehehahahaa!"
Mephisto had a rather… flat… frame as a man, and he gained no extra weight as a dog: all his cuddly softness was fur. Dry fur. And the look the miserable little creature gave him, after crawling up on the floor tiles…
"Snrrrkahahahaha you should see yourself ahaahahahaahaa…!"
"I know what I look like, thank you", he grumbled, and waited until Shiro was within range before he shook water out of his fur. "Such a rude way of- no, that's mine!"
"You got my towel wet", Shiro pointed out, wiping his neck and torso with the one Mephisto had left on a rock.
"You have no manners at all – dumping me in the water and then taking my towel! I'm a king, you know! The least you could do is dry me!"
"Not coming off as very royal in that condition", he grinned at the fuming little swab. "Didn't you just shake?"
"And do I look dry to you?" he huffed, and the sight of the dripping moustaches blowing outwards sent Shiro into another laughing fit.
…ah, yes…
"Right, right: I'll dry you, your highness", he said, carefully considering if it was worth it or not. It was, of course. He was tired: works wonders on judgement. "I'll catch hell for it later if I don't." And hell two times over for what he was about to do…
Shiro folded himself down on his knees and wrapped the still fairly dry towel around Mephisto…
…and cracked a devil's grin.
"No escaping now, your highness~"
"Nghah! St-t-t-top-p tha-a-at! It g-goes a-g-g-ain-n-st-t-t th-the g-grain, you m-mong-g-grel!"
"Don't you worry, I'll make a fine little cotton-wad out of you~" Shiro sniggered maliciously as he rubbed the dog roughly in all the wrong directions. Mephisto put up a most undignified fight, whining and squirming and kicking until he almost got away. "No you don't – you're not dry yet!" Shiro dove after him, caught the struggling little body around the midriff, and lifted him off the floor for a better-
"What was that…?" Shiro's grin disappeared, only to grow back with ten times more devilry glinting off it when he realised what that had been. "I don't believe it…!"
"It was nothing! Let me g-nnnhihihihihihiiihahahahaaaaa!"
Oh no~ When you find out that the King of Time, the most powerful demon in the history of Assiah, is ticklish… you do not let go.
"Ahahahahaha-ah-ah-nnnh-ihihihihihii st-stop!"
"Oh you've got better manners than that, your highness~ How about a 'please'…?" This was just too good to be true. The furry little body twisted like crazy in his lap, legs kicking the air and tears – tears? could dogs even cry? – trickling into the already damp fur.
"Nh-ahahahehehhehehee-I can't ah-ah-nhahahahahaa-stop or I will…!"
*poof*
The dog in his lap grew a lot heavier. And the pink smoke bought Shiro just enough time to realise that the chest he hugged was furless. And naked.
"Okay, I won't tickle you", he said hurriedly and yanked his hands away, eyes squeezed shut and cheeks red-hot. "Just turn back into the dog."
"So you can continue your assaults? No thank you."
No; no, no, no – anyone could come in at any time and find them in a situation that would hardly qualify their relation as friendship…!
"Come on, Mephisto, don't do this to me…!" Shiro groaned. "He is not doing this, that cheeky son of a bitch, he is not playing hard to get now of all times…!" He should at least push him off his lap, but he didn't really dare… touch him… without seeing what he touched…
"Me, do anything to you?" said the affronted voice in the darkness outside his eyelids. Oh yes; he was playing hard to get. Probably with a grin three miles wide. "You are the perpetrator here. My hair is a mess. And it's wet. Do you have any idea how bothersome it is to untangle when it's-"
"Fuck's sake, I'll make it up to you: just turn back now!"
*poof*
The little dog was back in his lap…
"You've got to be kidding me."
…with a hair brush between its teeth.
Shiro had never had a pet, or hair long enough to need a brush. It wasn't rocket science, using one, but he wasn't exactly… skillful. Initially, yelps and accusing glares were his sole reward for mending the tangles, but after a while… after a while, Shiro had found a whole new motivation for the task.
Demons were truly fascinating, in their many unexpected ways. Pleasure-seekers that pay no attention to who or what they damage in search of what they want, yes: but when sated… no one ever mentions how peaceful they can be when satisfied. No one ever mentions how they can become soft and warm under your hands, and how their little paws stretch lazily with contentment.
"Wonder what Kohu-sensei would say?" he smiled to himself, rhythmically running the brush through the white fur. "If I said I'd made the King of Time purr in my lap…?"
Yes, Mephisto purred. Not like a cat, or a dog, or anything this side of the dimensional barriers, but it was clearly a satisfied rumbling that rose from his throat. And occasionally, so did other sounds:
"Mmnnnh~ yes~"
"Jesus, don't say that…" he grimaced, halting the brush halfway down his back. "At least don't sound like that. It's disgusting."
"Give me more, Shiro~"
Every muscle in his body convulsed at once. He knew he was being baited… but damn it's hard to resist when you're baited by such a silver tongue…
"Chris'sake, you're a dog! Do you have any idea how disturbing it is to hear things like that from a dog?!"
"You'd rather hear it from me in human form~?" the awful little creature suggested: Shiro's face heated up all the way out to the tips of his ears.
"No: thank you for giving me nightmares for the rest of my life."
"You even dream of me? Shiro Shiro, is there something you're not telling me~?"
"Yeah: if you wanna get brushed, shut up." On second thought… "Or else I'll toss you in the cold pool", he added, casting a glance at the fuzzy shape of the tiled pool in the corner.
"Such a brute", the dog huffed with a dismissive flick of the little tail. "Toss me in the pool for images your mind wove – my word! Delve and dissect and deduce the world without, but dare not look within: even in this day and age, humans blame their faults on demons."
"And even in this day and age, demons blame theirs on humans." Shiro captured a tangle that had hidden itself by Mephisto's elbow and set to work on it. "Weaving looms weave according to the patterns they're fed. You know what the human mind wants; all you need to do is feed it the right words. Or sounds."
"Hmm~?" The little ears perked up. "Did I just hear you admit that you want to-"
"I meant with girls."
"That's not what you said", the dog enlightened pleasantly.
"I'm tired: you don't listen to what I say when I'm tired. I meant with girls."
"Nothing like alcohol and fatigue to loosen the knots Prudence ties on one's to-what are you-NO! No no no no…!"
"You'll be quiet, then?" Shiro said with a smug smirk, holding Mephisto under his front legs over the hungry depths of the cold pool.
"Yes!"
Indeed, demons were fascinating: yesternight, that anxious little mop of fur had been King of Time out to the tips of his fingernails. So many contrasts and contradictions...
"What…?" said dog asked, and Shiro realised he had still held him over the water while he spaced out.
"Technically", he creased his brow in contemplation, "I should drop you. You were warned."
Heh. That one hit the mark.
"No, it's cold!" Mephisto pawed feebly for support on his lower arms, as if he could feel the grip loosening already. "I don't like cold!"
Shiro's pokerface lost to the irresistible tugging at the corners of his lips.
"You really are an adorable little cuddle-bun."
"Eh?" Mephisto went still. Dammit if he wasn't even cuter when he was confused.
"But if you're not quiet from now", Shiro carried the dog back to where he'd left the brush, "you're getting dunked in the cold pool." He seated himself again, with Mephisto in his lap and a mean smile on his lips. "And if you wanna get dry and warm afterwards, I believe there's a tumble dryer in the laundry room that will be happy to provide its services."
Offended, the look said. Not amused consent, was woven in between the lines, along with a small, dignified notion of …well, it's worth it.
It says something of two individuals that they don't need words to communicate.
Shiro had, in all honesty, always considered himself a cat person. Dogs were clingy and dumb, and noisy. Cats were a good size; they were intelligent, and they were independent. They didn't give a damn about your opinion, and you didn't need to give a damn about theirs.
…but they weren't half as cute as Mephisto. Yes: cute, dignity be damned. That dog was definitely cute. He wasn't much bigger than a cat, he was intelligent, and independent, and he certainly didn't give a damn about Shiro's opinions. And he purred. The tangles were long since undone, but Shiro kept the brush running through the fur in a steady rhythm.
Mephisto had been silent, initially, but as his ears and eyelids began to droop lower, that soft rumble escaped him unawares. Shiro didn't alert him to it. Instead, he watched as the little body rocked with the motion of the brush and began to melt from sitting into lying.
Once Mephisto was too far gone to notice, Shiro started guiding the hairs in other directions with the brush. Oh yes, that would look nice~ Not too much, or he would stir, but enough to make for a very interesting hairstyle when he turned b-
*poof*
"Oi! Wake up! You never said you turn back when you fall asleep, dammit! Wake up!"
Shiro crawled onto his futon and kicked off the covers. Not all the demons in Gehenna could keep him from sleeping tonight…
A/N:
Well, it says in the character description of Izaya Orihara that he's ticklish: and we all know which other famous, sadistically philanthropic character Kamiya Hiroshi has voiced. ;3 That's the only thing I have to say in my defence, really. ^_^' It seemed so fitting for Mephisto to be ticklish… and to enjoy a bit of pampering. ;P Based somewhat off Tott: he's a little prince, for sure. ^_^'