Chapter 37, Family Matters.
Warning: Language
The heavens above were blotched with crimson and orange like a watercolor painting when she had finally departed from her secret studies with Madame Monvison. She trudged through the dense forest as the sky faded, kicking at the rocks on the path, grumbling lowly as she wondered how long she would have to keep it up. She went to her University classes, and although cram school was on hiatus while her fellow exwire's were on the Kyoto mission, the day remained long, for she would trek across campus to the strange little shop and partake in lessons from the mute witch.
So far she had only a couple of these lessons in with her newfound tutor, and what a wreck they had been. It was quiet in the shop, and although the girl had been there a measly amount of time, she couldn't help but to feel the empty foot traffic was normal, although it was respectively eerie. It was quiet as the dead, only the stiffening sounds of a cat and bird fighting every once in a while as the witch sat in her chair. It seemed as though Monvison had used her powers to speak—brokenly—through the crow with a missing eye.
'Water!' it would caw at her.
And so she would rush to the sink and fetch the pail.
'Pour!' it would squawk.
And so she would begin to pour, adding the liquid to the mix in the mortar, while Madame Monvison was collecting leaves from a dried herb to add. And once there would be enough of whatever it was the girl was doing, the crow would caw brashly at her, bumping her on the head repeatedly and encasing her in wings, flapping wildly, and sending feathers that shone like poured oil, black with greens and blues moving across it like a liquid, all throughout the air. The frenzy would cause her to drop the container of whatever she held nearly every time, and it would crash against the wood, sending vibrations all around the still shop.
And then she would find five eyes fixed on her fiercely right before the one eyed crow would be sent into a fit.
'Clean! Clean! Clean!' it would screech as it fretted about, Madame Monvison shuffling down the hall to collect a mop, or a dust pan, or anything else, before tossing it at the girl with a snarl, making her mop up the water or collect the ingredients carefully and place them back into the container.
She didn't even know crows had the ability to speak. Magic was bizarre like that. It seemed irrational, unscientific; like when Mephisto did nearly anything which required his powers: highly illogical. She couldn't wrap her mind around it, and her blood boiled every time she made an attempt to understand it or why her demon wished for her to learn it so much.
It didn't help that so far she had only been ordered around the little shop like a slave, adding in whatever materials to grind down into a powder or a pulp in the mortar, or cleaning the bottles and kettles, wrapping stalks of plants into small bushels and hanging them to dry, or packaging up the items the old woman handed her in the brown butcher's paper. Madame Monvison seemed to be enjoying having someone around with eyes, and took full advantage of that fact, having her to most of the lag work.
The old wrinkled witch spent her time sitting at her table with her crow feather and ink, writing sigils and words the girl couldn't recognize onto parchment before rolling them up and handing them to her, so that she may tie them and place them on the shelves. The girl would open them a bit as she carried them, trying to make out what was scribed into the paper, as if it would teach her something or she may miraculously understand it. All of them were the same in practice; a language she had never seen before, and symbols scattered about and intertwined like the gears of a clock. Every once in a while, she was surprised to recognize a sigil she had learned in her cram classes, and when she would glance at the witch, she would be sitting with her cloudy eyes staring back while the crow watched her like a hawk would eye a field mouse.
After the second day, spending hours playing room service, she was done. Frustrated, and done. There was nothing being taught, nothing being learned, and she ached to do something more with what knowledge she had from cram school. Why wasn't she allowed to go to the Kyoto mission, now that Mephisto had given her a temptaint? It seemed ridiculous to her, and these so-called lessons with a so-called witch seemed pointless.
Stomping into the mansion, the girl peeled off her coat, which the butler took and draped over his arm. "Mephisto!" she called out in a huff. "I don't think this is going to work out with the Madame," she began whining, before catching a glimpse of the butler holding a finger to his mouth.
"Lord Faust wishes me to escort you to the formal dining room, my lady," Belial said, poised and proper. He was such an obedient demon; it made the girl wonder what Mephisto did to him to enlist his diligent service.
The inaudible wisps of voices finally made their way down the hall and to the girls ears, drawing her silent attention as she tried to make out was being said, and by whom. Of course, the dining room was far enough away that she was unable to hear the conversation, but she was able to catch the low hum of Mephisto's voice, and a shrill cackle she was all too familiar with. Her whole body began to tighten as she followed the butler to the room, her face coiling in disbelief while her stomach turned in knots. They rounded the corner to the dining room only to find the doors open, and she hadn't yet had a chance to lay her eyes on the guest before—
"My darling! There you are!" The sounds of solid wood skidding across the stone floor cut through the air and rang throughout her whole body, but nothing was more alarming then the voice that came from the person flying from the chair. "How I have missed you!"
Squeezing. The squeezing commenced. Tighter and tighter until she felt as if she couldn't breathe. Jesus, was it a person or a fucking anaconda? She let out a series of grunts as she struggled before finally being released.
"Did you miss me?!" the voice came like nails on a chalkboard.
The girl tried to smile as warmly as she could, but the shock, and the blood rushing to her head was making it completely impossible. "Of course I have, mother."
"Your handsome boyfriend and I have been waiting for you!"
The word entered her just as the rush of blood hit her at full force, and together they felt like a bright brick wall as her face turned a shade of scarlet. Never had she even considered calling Mephisto such things; in fact, a title was never even discussed between the two of them. Things just seemed to have…happened. And it progressed as two beings that couldn't get enough of one another, as the honey bee ravaged its flower during the springtime, both benefiting from the affair.
"Won't you come join us, dear?" came the familiar voice of Mephisto, smooth and sweet, like the kind of candy that melts in your mouth.
Her mother let out a squeal as she ruffled her feathers and trotted back into the dining room. The girl's blank eyes followed her and watched as she sat down at the table, opposite of where the demon sat. Her eyes met with his and she gave him a stern how-could-you look, but it was quickly melted away by his own eyes; for they appeared like the lush green meadows of her youth, soft and welcoming as he motioned to the chair next to him. The dissolving of any and all conflict that had been brewing within her continued down into her toes as she beheld him, and she went to him fervently as a puppy who adores its master.
Always one of grand gestures, Mephisto wrapped the girl within his arms as she neared him, pulling her down into his lap and planting a firm smooch upon her before he released her with a grin. The girl's whole body seared with embarrassment and confusion while her mother clapped happily across the dining table at the show, making some forms of statements about how lovely he was, and how lucky her daughter is to have a man like him in her life. As the girl took her seat next to him, he snapped his fingers, and the help flooded into the dining room, laying out the cutlery for the meal that was beginning to make its way to their noses.
"Oh my," her mother spewed as the help set the table before her, "how magnificent! Honey, you've done so well for yourself, I see you took my advice with this one!"
"Holy shit mom—"
Mephisto let out an amused chuckle, giving the girl a prodding glance from the corner of his eye.
"You shut up, it's nothing!" the girl snapped, face getting warmer by the second. It seemed like she was in hell already, but what game was he playing at? God knows what all they discussed, for how long, while they waited for her. Why was he allowing her mother to know about the dynamic of their so-called relationship?
Boyfriend—UGH.
The servers came with the first course while Mephisto and her mother engaged in more talk. It seemed as if her mother was more smitten with her demon king than her own daughter was by the tone in her voice, and how she droned on and on with questions about him.
"What do you do for a living?"
"I'm the proprietor of True Cross Town, and the director of True Cross University; they've been in the…family for generations."
The girl attempted to subdue a chortle as the two exchanged swift looks.
Her mother let out a hearty coo as she squirmed in her seat. The girl kept her eyes fixed on the salad in front of her, picking through the pieces and reluctantly pushing them into a mouth that wished to cast everything out. "And surely you've been married before, yes?" Her mother asked, causing the girl to nearly choke.
"I'm afraid not, ma'am," he answered with a light laugh.
"No? Well I'm quite surprised!" she responded as she raised a sly shoulder in front of her chin. The girl rolled her eyes. "May I ask why?"
"I'm afraid I've always been far too busy with other things, and I've never found the right companion."
Warmer. For fuck's sake, how hot can one person get?
"What a shame," her mother said in that fake sticky-sweet tone that she knew all too well. "But surely a man such as yourself," she began, looking what she could see of him up and down, "has children, no?"
The question hit the girl in the gut so hard she spewed chewed green cud all over the table. "Mother!"
"What? It's just a question!"
Mephisto tittered once more, watching the exchange over the table intently while Belial came and wiped off the table. The girl was obviously mortified, and he found it absolutely adorable to watch her writhe within his control. His beloved human finally turned to him with large, pleading eyes and a crinkled nose, her cheeks more flushed than he thought was even possible, and she apologized for her mother's behavior. "Not to worry, my dear, her questions do not bother me; I invited her here so we could formally meet, and the two of you could spend some time together. She can ask me what she likes, she is your family—" there was a sudden change; an intensity in his eyes- "And family is important!" he boasted, his arms extending outwards as he looked back up to the woman across the table. "In fact, I find family to be so important I wanted to take the time to introduce you to my family—"
No, no, no—you've got to be fucking kidding me—
"Brother? Please come join us!"
Her eyes darted to the vacant doorway, resting, waiting as the blood pumped through her body faster and faster. The air grew dense and surrounded her with a heat she couldn't get rid of. Surely this was hell. Surely she had died, and this was hell.
Down in the corner of the entry, a black shoe made an appearance, dragging the small frame of Amaimon into view; he adjusted the sleeve of his suit, which was a green so dark it was nearly black, and was covered in a deep gold diamond speck pattern which adorned the jacket and trousers. A beige vest popped out from behind the jacket, separating it from a deep umber shirt pinstriped in a matching cream, buttoned closely to his neck and closed off by a matching gold tie, neatly tucked into his vest. The poor boy looked stiff, and tugged at his collar. As he laid eyes on the girl, he drew in a deep breath, which he held in a puffed manner.
"I said to come join us, brother," Mephisto reiterated at the statue in the doorway, an unyielding expression across his face. Amaimon let out his breath through his mouth with force as he began his entrance, trying his best to stay poised and proper while showing his displeasure. His elder brother cracked a pleasant smile. "Please, meet the guest of honor, the lady's mother," he said with a motion, "and of course, meine geliebte," his voice was smooth and sultry as he looked over his human, placing a gloved hand upon hers. It wasn't often he spoke German to her in their private lives, since usually he only did it for show to keep up his façade as the German Director of True Cross; but every once in a blue moon his head would get lost in time, forgetting what century the two of them existed in during a moment, letting poetic words of different dialects and dead tongues fall from his lips and onto hers.
Standing at the side of the table, his blue eyes locked on to the girl as he pursed his lips. Mephisto cocked his head, questioning him for his mannerisms without speaking a word, a feeling that snapped Amaimon out of his trance. Gasping slightly, he turned and bowed to the girls' mother, stuttering as he greeted her quickly, before bringing his attention back to the girl before him. Their gazes of shock met as they attempted to play off the meeting. He coughed into his fist and flattened the lapel of his suit before sending himself into a frenzy, showing off his true, good, human manners as he greeted his elder brother's human lover for the first time ever in history.
"Oh, so you're the girl my brother has told me so much about!" he started flamboyantly with a roll to his blue orbs, making his way behind Mephisto, who watched him wisely under low lids as he made his way to the girl.
Her eyes darted from Amaimon, to Mephito, and back to Amaimon. "That's funny, he hasn't mentioned you before," she said, trying to pacify a nervous crack in her voice.
Amaimon turned and looked the ominous figure of his brother in the eye, jaw unhinged in a pretend surprised fashion he heard was common with humans. "He hasn't?! Now what kind of manners are those?" he jabbed, cocking his head. He continued on to the girl. "I must say, my lady—often my brother would speak of your loveliness and compare it to his gardens," he held out a hand for her, which she nervously accepted, "but they simply don't begin to measure up to your beauty!" He strained before placing a simple kiss on the top of her hand, peering up at the flustered girl.
Mephisto's amused expression curled into something rather distasteful at his younger brother's obnoxious display, and his green eyes pierced through him like spears as he made his way to his seat. "Yes, I'm afraid I'm at a loss for words when it comes to her," he finally replied, warming his façade as he looked over to the girl, tightening his hand around hers. He calmed into a truth once he saw her smile back at him. "I'm afraid I'm quite taken with her."
The girl glanced down, a sweet pink gracing her face as her mother yipped excitedly. "Oh I'm so happy for the both of you!"
Amaimon slumped into his chair, shoving the food placed before him into his mouth.
"Yes; in fact, my lady," Mephisto cawed, looking up to the girl's mother, "She has decided to quit her job and move in here, with me!"
Reality shattered. Her jaw dropped. "W-what?! I have not!" she yelped through the screeches from her mother and the gasp from Amaimon. What on earth was Mephisto doing, now?
"Of course dear," he tutted lovingly. "You must have just been tired that morning."
"I really don't think we talked this over." Her brow furrowed.
"I've already taken the liberty of sending in your letter of resignation, and I'm giving you this to purchase whatever you need or want," he said, pulling a card from his pinstriped pocket; it was a light pink that glowed gold as the light moved across it, featuring the True Cross emblem on the front.
What—
"OH how wonderful, my baby is moving up in the world!" Her mother yelled as she popped up onto the chair, her hands sprawling out over the table. "How serious are we talking?!" she questioned, face beaming like a lighthouse. "You know I want grandbabies!"
Amaimon turned as white as a ghost.
"MOTHER!"
Noting the horror in his human's eyes, he merely laughed through the growing tension. "I'm afraid we're a ways off from such thoughts, madam," he said as she sat back down in her chair. "So sorry to disappoint."
It was then that the bubbly Japanese theme ripped through the center of the table. Mephisto jumped, scrambling into his pocket to retrieve the pink phone and answered it as quickly as possible. His face froze, and then grew increasingly more dark as everyone looked on intently. "I see. Thank you for the update. I'm counting on you all." He hung up as he stood from his seat. "I'm afraid I will have to cut dinner short for myself, it seems my youngest brother has gotten himself into a bit of trouble, and I'm unsure when I shall return."
Amaimon gave his elder brother a vaguely interested look.
That means…Rin…?!
"Oh no~!" the girl's mother cooed. "Shall I get going then?
"Yeah," the girl muttered under her breath.
"Nonsense my lady," Mephisto started warmly, "Please spend some time with your daughter, I will have my servants prepare one of the guest rooms for you. I'll see to it that my driver takes you home in the morning."
"So generous!" her mother wailed with a massive shit-eating grin. Turning to her daughter, she placed the back of her hand to the side of her cheek, and spoke just loud enough that everyone might understand what she was saying. "You make sure that pussy is ripe and ready; don't let him get away from you."
Jesus Christ! What was left of her dignity melted into her shoes at that point, as she was sure everyone had to have heard. It wasn't as if her mother necessarily tried to hide what she was saying. The thought of spending hours with her, in the same house, for a whole night ate at her. She had hastily accepted the scholarship invitation almost strictly so she could get away from this woman.
Scurrying after Mephisto as he left the dining hall, she began muttering an objection before he turned to her, bringing her into a close embrace. "Please," he nearly begged, "Spend some time with her. You never know how much time you have with family."
The desperate look upon her face faded away with the softness of his voice, and she knew he was right. It wasn't often that he wasn't. She may not have been looking forward to it, but she nodded slightly as her lip quivered, and he kissed her forehead. "What's happened? Where are you going?"
He let out a sigh, debating whether or not he should tell her, but the inquisitive expression softened him once more; he was powerless against her. "The Impure King has been revived, and I'm afraid the Exwire's are in a bit of a predicament." Her eyes shuddered to a panic, and he grazed his thumb over her cheek in a feeble attempt to calm her. "Don't worry my dear, sweet flower; I'm going to make sure everyone is alright. Stay here, and stay safe."
