A/N: You have no idea how much I've been longing to launch this subplot. =^w^= It may not look much now, but think of it as the peas you can let young Link plant, which grow into giant beanstalks to climb when he's adult Link.
I do not own or profit from any of what Kazue Kato has created.
Walking up the winding driveway to Faust Mansion, Shiro had plenty of time to think. That is rarely a good thing. He debated back and forth how he should do this, and each turn he did things seemed more and more complicated. It was, in a sense, like when he had tried to explain to Shizuku and Ryuuji why it was obvious to flirt with- to strategically deceive Mephisto. This had been equally obvious when the idea struck him, and it was equally impossible to make it sound sensible when explaining it.
Mephisto was enjoying summer holidays the way a prince would: his thin body lounged in a sun chair under a garish pink parasol in his courtyard, with an iced drink in one hand and a book in the other. The part of Shiro's mind that wasn't squirming with effort to come up with a good explanation told him that that content face called for a bucket of cold water.
"Here you go." Hopefully, he wouldn't have to explain at all. That would make it so much easier.
The demon looked at the keychain in the outstretched hand, and then up at Shiro.
…there would have to be an explanation.
"I found them in my pocket this morning, and I thought- Well, I don't know how much I really thought, but it seemed… fitting. A keychain for the master of keys. You keep mementos, don't you?" He plucked the string with the dice up between his fingers. They had gone from red and white to light blue and shock pink, and at the moment it felt much more comfortable to rest his eyes on them than on Mephisto. "If you're gonna have something to remember me by, this is way better than a haircut."
He knew that look, even if he wasn't looking straight at Mephisto: a hundred thoughts at once, a cluster of connections made that flitted over the green eyes and were gone in an instant – or an eternity.
"Or twenty-four years", Shiro's mind whispered to him. Johann had had twenty-four years, and had left Mephisto a memento that would last for eternity. "Is that what you were thinking of…?"
How did you tell, with that poker face? Mephisto merely put his drink on the table and held his hand out, palm upwards. The simplest gesture in the world.
Don't ever be fooled by something that looks simple and unassuming.
The keychain laid itself to rest in the naked palm with a muffled, plastic clinking. No, there was much Shiro hadn't thought of when he decided to do this: he had acted on impulse, like so many times before. He hadn't thought of how much weight those four dice carried. He hadn't thought of how much weight his actions put on them, hadn't…
"Only four?"
…hadn't thought of how much weight they would have gained if Mephisto hadn't accepted them.
"The fifth got lost somewhere along the way", he said, toying with his lighter to keep himself from fidgeting. He did not want to be fidgeting right now. "I wonder if he suspects anything?" Shiro mused to himself as Mephisto put the book down in his lap and poofed the key ring to his hand. "I can never tell what's going through his mind, when he thinks that fast. Maybe he suspects I know." He checked a merry snicker that threatened to give him away. "Not that he'd ever let me know that he suspects it, if he does." Such were the ways of their… whatever-it-was.
There's no real guidelines to define what friendship is. Trust is a component most would include. Care is another. Shiro couldn't claim the relation between him and Mephisto held any great measure of either, apart from the trust Mephisto placed in his abilities to read between the lines.
…on the other hand, trust and care were the basis for friendship between humans. Friendship between demon and human was uncharted territory, with no rules and no definitions: there's no need to define something that doesn't exist.
"Fascination." Fascination had been his lifeline in Deep Keep when he'd convinced Mephisto to spare him, as well as the reason he kept fluttering towards the demon like the famed moth to the flame. "Entertainment." There was never a dull moment around Mephisto, and he brought out the prankster side in Shiro like no one ever had. "Challenge." Like particles in a thunderstorm, they gravitated towards each other with massive discharges as end result whenever they clashed. "Heh, and most importantly", he smiled at his thoughts, "he bends the rules, and I break them."
There are no rules governing friendship between humans and demons, because such a friendship is based on the condition that both demon and human defy the fundamental rules of both races. The odds for that to happen? …no, Shiro didn't need any more headache than he already had. He was fine with trusting the whims of Lady Chance if Mephisto was.
The plastic dice seemed somewhat shy among the shiny metal keys, as if wondering how on earth they had come to share such fine company. Mephisto turned his key ring back and forth before half-mast eyes.
"I do all manner of things when I'm tipsy, it seems", he mused regarding the colour.
Shiro hadn't expected a "thanks". Didn't need one, either. Mephisto was a flamboyant show-off and magician of words: and for that very reason, the words he didn't say were the ones that truly mattered.
"You were a fair bit beyond tipsy, I can tell you", Shiro chuckled lightly, feeling a tension he hadn't been aware of leave his shoulders. "Well, I'll bid you a pleasant day, and be off to see my friends."
"You won't stay for a drink?"
"The only thing I'll be drinking today is water, thanks to you. Have a nice day."
"Manners? From you? Are you still intoxicated?"
"Maybe", he grinned, and flung a casual wave as he turned around and crossed the crunching gravel of the courtyard, past bright rainbows that swirled in the mist from the fountain.
Indeed, this day was perfect.
A/N: You do recognise those dice, I hope? If not, a peek at the cover of volume four might help. =)