Disclaimer: I own not To Love Ru.
Ten Years Into the Future
Lala Satalin Deviluke awoke to the feeling of plush pillows, the softest silk sheets she had ever felt produced, and the ever-present feeling of weightlessness she had associated with space travel. Opening her eyes, to adjust them against the harsh, mechanical lighting, she was presently surprised to find that there was a change of clothes and a basin of water to wash herself with, located nearby. Stepping up and out of bed, she didn't hesitate to strip herself and enjoy the pleasure of feeling lukewarm water against her skin. She even found something that was similar to soap and shampoo, and quickly to advantage of these luxuries she had admittedly forgone while stuck in the past. It wasn't that it was lacking, rather that the time spent building a way home consumed her personal life.
Suddenly she was surprised by sharp knocking, and she quickly covered herself with a nearby towel, as a hooded figure entered her room. "Ah, I see you are awake," the hooded figure speaks, obviously a young, but older than Lala, woman with chestnut-brown, shoulder length hair, "I hope the garments fit you, I couldn't tell how old you were, so I went with as appropriate a measurement as I thought would fit and accent your body." The woman speaks with a familiar tone, quite happy to see Lala awake and about, though Lala is unfamiliar with the woman.
"I'm sorry, could you tell me how I got here, why we are in space?" Lala asks, "Could you inform me what the current Devilukean, or Earth year, it is?" The woman smiles underneath her hood, as Lala cannot clearly see her face beneath it. She takes the towel Lala was using to cover herself with, then forces her into a sitting position. Taking the washcloth from Lala, she wets it and begins to wash the Devilukean girl's back.
"Currently it is the Eighth year of the new King of Deviluke, following his succession of the title held by the former King Gid," she states, as she soothingly washes Lala's back, "Currently the Earth year would be about ten or nine years from your present, our past, Lady Lala." Lala perks up at the title, but realizes that whoever was King obviously had taken herself as Queen. To refer to your current head of state wife's, past self as their current title, would no doubt me more of a headache than necessary. Just knowing her future self was no doubt older, unnerved her as well. She honestly didn't know if she would even be here, seeing that by not returning to her present, she might not have returned to their past to let their future roll out the way it was intended to, as her lack of activity in it made this future both uncertain and yet alternately her future? It was all too much of a headache for her sleepy brain to handle, without food to get her brain moving into overtime with plans to make a way to return home.
"You must be thinking very hard, to have ignored me for this long, Lala-sama," the woman states, "I'm done, so it's best you get dressed, or else you let the chill of the ship cause you to get sick before you even make it to the breakfast table!" The motherly tone to her voice sounds achingly familiar to Lala, but she can't even begin to place it, before she is dressed and hurried out the door. Following the hooded woman, who takes the lead, she finds herself in front of double doors made of the finest designs she had ever seen. She recognizes the carvings as Deviluke design, which assures her that this ship belonged to the Deviluke Empire, that was no doubt.
Entering the room, she finds herself alone, standing before an elongated table that stretched a good twenty feet long. It appeared to be made of wood, and strapped to the deck by metal support structures drilled into its underside and connected to the floor. Taking a seat at the only chair set up with silverware and plates, she sits and waits patiently for someone to come. In less than two minutes, she is joined by a man who must be the chef, for he puts a platter in front of her, but smacks her hand as she reaches for the lid. Seconds latter the door opens again, just as the chef disappears into the kitchen through an invisible door, and Lala turns to see a quite frightening appearance. A young girl, barely five years old by the looks of it, enters the room with a sewn doll that bares an eerie resemblance to Celine, minus the button eyes the doll has. What was shocking though, was the blue, curly hair that topped her head, a bright smile on her face as she stared at her with a curious gaze and a childlike smile. Wide, orange eyes, Lala noticed.
"Mama?" she states, more than asks, "You look like her, but you'wr not Mama!" The girl walks up to Lala, pulls the seat next to hers out, and climbs onto it, and huffs as she attempts to scoot the giant chair in. Lala smiles and pushes the girl towards the table, as the chef returns with another plate of food, dropping it off for the little girl. "You here for bweakfast?" she asks, tilting her small head towards Lala, "I hwope its banacakes, or st'waberwy whuffles!" Lala can't help but hold her hand to her lips, fighting back the snicker at the child's lisp. She noticed she had lost her front tooth, which obviously accounted for the child's hindered speech, seemingly a bright girl who had a wide vocabulary.
"I believe I was invited," Lala states, "Though I don't know who's hosting it; would it, perhaps, be your father and mother?" The girl blinks at Lala, before shrugging her shoulders. The door opens yet again, and this time an older, pink haired girl walks in. The seven or eight year old child blinks at Lala's presence next to the younger blue-haired girl, before shrugging and sitting down at the little girl's opposite side. Lala noticed that this girl was eerily familiar to him, and what was striking about her, was her cool, purple eyes. "Hello!" Lala says cheerily, "My name is-"
"Lala Satalin Deviluke, I know, you're our dead Aunt," the girls states harshly, causing Lala to frown at her harsh words, "I don't know why you came back now, but you should run while you have the chance..." Before she could question the girls words, yet another figure entered the room, as the chef set a platter down in front of the newest girl. Unlike the shock the children gave her, this one was truly terrifying. Covered in black armor from head to toe, a wicked looking tail of gold floating lazily behind him, this new figure approached them, taking a seat at the head of the table.
"Good morning, Lady Lala," the imposing figure speaks, "Good morning, my little plum, my ocean breeze." Lala watches as the little girl beams at the nickname, and how the older girl stared in open disdain at the man, before making the connection between the three. "Yes, Lala, Uwe, the purple eyed child, is mine," the man states, "As is Manami, my youngest daughter, the girl who sits next to you." Lala watches as the man turns his attention to Uwe. "I see you're having another 'bad day', my dear," the mysterious man states, "Why don't you say hello to your Aunt Lala,it isn't everyday that the dead come back to life!" The pink haired girl merely stares in contempt at the man in front of her, before he puts his arm to her shoulder. "There, there, my little plum, all this darkness inside you, these negative feelings..." he states, "Well, they're just rude in front of our guest..." His hand begins to glow around the child's arm, before an aura of darkness seems to seep out from the child, before being drawn away and into the man's hand.
"Ahh," he states, an air of satisfaction in his tone, "There we go, don't you wish to properly introduce yourself to your Aunt Lala now?" The girl's face is drawn tight, before turning to Lala with a smile on it. Lala is a little unnerved at the sight, as she notices the girl seems to have lost the luster in her eyes.
"Welcome, Aunt Lala," she states, her voice sounding hollow, "Enjoy your food, Papa made it especially for you!" The child then removes the lid to her platter, along with Manami's, before digging into the dish before her. The older girl seemed to have some form of poultry with a sauce covering it, while the little girl had strawberry topped pancakes and a glass of milk. Lala removed the lid to hers, and was surprised to find something quite odd about her breakfast. It was one of Lala's favorite breakfast meals, specially made with Mikan's tender, loving care and eye for detail. There was even what appeared to be dark matter seasoning to the side, to add flavor to the dish.
"Mikan made it, just for you, no doubt," the man states, interrupting Lala's thoughts, "She probably took over the cook's duties, and made this especially for you, Lala." Lala turns to look at the man, whose face and voice is still shrouded by the helmet he wore ever since sitting down to the table. "It's funny, she hasn't cooked for years, at least not for me," he states, looking at Lala, "I would eat every bite up, you'll probably want to enjoy that gourmand, dark matter seasoning too, she probably stole it just for you." Lala was too unnerved by all this now, and she quickly backed out of her seat and away from the table and the people eating at it.
"Who, what, are you?" Lala asks, "What do you know about Mikan? What did you do to your daughter? What are you going to do about me?" She can't see it, but she can tell the man is smirking underneath his helmet. She should be afraid, confused by all this change and unfamiliar people, but she strangely feels so calm, calmer than she knows she should be.
'Alright, Lala, I guess you deserve to see who I am," the King states, "My people and subjects call me the Harem King, my family calls me Husband or Father, but you may call me..." He goes for the helmet, putting his hands on it, removing the heavy object with a hiss of air.
Nine Years Ago
The fire raged around them, as Azenda laughed at his misfortune. He could only stare in horror at the blood on his blade, as it slowly trailed down from the tip, over the handle, and onto Rito's hands. The tip wedged into the body of the one he loved, now dying on the floor. "No!" he cries out, "LALA!" Removing the his hands from the blade, he grabs her as she collapses to the floor, and into his arms. "Lala..." he cries out, tears staining his cheeks, "No, please..." She smiles at him, putting her hand to his face as the light in her eyes begin to fade. Her lips move, but Rito doesn't hear anything, but he knows she speaks. Closing his arms around her, he brings her closer to him, not caring as her blood mixes with his tears of sorrow.
'Rito...' a voice whispers in his ear, 'You have fed the blade... you have awakened my power, take it for yourself.' Rito tries to ignore the pain, trying his damndest to stop Lala from bleeding out, ignoring the hauntingly familiar voice. 'Rito, I Hunger; you will feed Me,' the voice states soothingly, dulling the pain in Rito's heart, 'Azenda will pay, they will All pay... you just have to Feed Me!' Rito sees Lala's eyes have glazed over, unseeing and emotionless. His heart breaks, and he feels the anger and the sadness begin to boil in the pit of his stomach.
Rito lets the limp thing fall from his grasp, choosing to turn to the sword. The voice is calling to him, from within, within himself. He grasps the sword, and all sense of his former humanity begins to burn away at his touch, as the Dark Matter begins to bubble up from within him. The power he cast aside, restored and enhanced by contact with the bloodied blade, as the feelings within Rito manifest through the pores of his skin, corrupting him from within. Rito Yuuki is no more...
The monster raises it's flaming blade, basked in the glorious purple, the unholy light of the void. He turns his soulless gaze to Azenda and her puppets, and for the first time since coming to Earth, she truly feels fear. After all, no woman could escape the wrath of the man, once known as Rito Yuuki.
When the carnage was over, Azenda's decapitated body burned to ashes and cinders, along with her enslaved puppets, the former Rito Yuuki overlooks the burning remnants of his town. Azenda and her partner had reduced Sainan to rubble, and the few buildings that still stood, were still crumbling. Haruna, Yui, Saruyama, Rin, Tearju-sensei, Celine; they had all been caught in the crossfire and killed, one by one, in front of his eyes. Then Lala was brought out before him, the broken shell that he was by that point, recognizing the girl he had been promised to marry. She had ended up slain by his own hands, not willingly, of course, but as another one of Azenda's cruel machinations via manipulation by her Psychokinesis.
Hearing the crackle of footsteps among the ruins of the burning town, the man once known as Rito turns to see who dares approach him. Looking as defiant as ever, Kuro the former assassin Black, stares Rito down, brandishing his gun. "You told me I was wrong, 'my King'" he mocks, loading his gun with one last bullet, "You said you had it under control, but I should have known better!" The man formerly known as Yuuki Rito merely stares down the former assassin, the man in worse shape than he let on, if the bleeding from his skull was any indication. He and Yami both had been the targets of the first assault, after all. "I hoped you were right, Rito," Kuro says, locking his barrel into place and setting the lone shot up, "You made me promise to use this, if you ever lost control; you've slaughtered your 'right' to the throne of Deviluke, by my count, that means you've lost control..." Aiming his weapon, lining up his shot, Kuro pulls the trigger. A shot rings out.
By the time his body hits the ground, Kuro's hand releases the trigger, having failed to fire his last shot in time. Rito's smoking finger is put away, done having mimed the gun that killed Kuro dead. But Rito Yuuki had also died that day. Kuro had given him a name, a new title as his cross to bear. They had killed his friends, his family, and his loved ones that remained on Earth. All except the one girl...
He found her cradling her sister's dead body, having obviously stumbled upon the wreckage of the house and town, after exiting Azenda's now empty ship. He didn't want her to see this, this wasn't her cross, her guilt, to bear. It was the King's. She shouldn't be sad, he couldn't bear it, so he would make her happy. He would giver her what she always wanted: a Harem where everyone would be happy.
Rito Yuuki died that day, with his Fiancee Lala Satalin Deviluke.
Long live the newly crowned, 'Harem King'.
Long, may he reign!
On that day Yuuki Rito died.
I had won his life.
Lala's Present
The face and voice of an elder Yuuki Rito stares back at Lala, and she can only smile in realization that he had done what she thought was impossible. "You may call me by my true name," the older man, the familiar, once-boy states, red hair cresting outwards, orange eyes shining with new light, "The name I have given myself: Adam." Lala's eyes fall in confusion, as the unfamiliar name rings in her ears. "Yuuki Rito died, nine years ago, by your side, Lala Satalin Deviluke," the man who is not Rito states pleasantly, "Now, I have his life, his love, his children, for I am Adam; I am the scion of a new age, and now with you returned to me, you will become my new Eve!"