"Amaimon..." He looked so different from the demon king Rin was used to, so fearful and shy. A stab of pity made him cringe, but he didn't give up—he reached out for Amaimon again, his tone softer and his expression compassionate. "I would never do anything to hurt you," he said gently, "I promise." The demon stared at him intently, studying his face for anything that would expose his supposed lies. Slowly, he placed his hand in Rin's, tensing only slightly when the half-demon closed his fingers around his palm. "See? That doesn't hurt, right? Let's go home."

He nodded. "Home."

Chapter Three
. . .
Something Sweet

Amaimon made a face at the sight of the decrepit, austere dormitory he apparently called home. Large portions of the walls were faded from the weather and some of the windows on the lower floors had been boarded up. He expected his residence to appear tidy and presentable, but this...even Behemoth resented going inside, and the little ball-like animal chewed on trash for most of the day.

The building was also very quiet, and he noticed they were the only two nearby. "Where is everyone?"

"Huh?" Rin was taken aback by his question. "Uh...this is a private dorm, so it'll only be us three. Come on—I'll take you to your room!" He quickly grabbed his hand and dragged him inside before he could ask more probing questions. Amaimon followed without complaint.

There wasn't much to see along the way. Some of the rooms didn't have doors and sunlight poured into the hallway unhindered by blinds or boards, revealing specks of dust as they floated through the stale air. The dormitory had a musty smell and felt stuffy and hot, but it became increasingly more comfortable—and clean—the further up they went. It was far nicer here than the exterior had led him to expect and, despite his initial reaction, Amaimon eventually decided that he liked it.

They came to a stop at the end of the hallway on the top floor. He noticed that each door here had gilded numbers nailed into them to distinguish them from their neighbors. Rin tapped a finger on 601. "This is your room." He turned and gestured to the room opposite. "Yukio and I live in 602. Don't be afraid to come in if you need something." He paused, and then quickly added, "try to find me before you go to Yukio."

He wasn't paying attention, eyes focused on their connected hands. Amaimon entwined his fingers with Rin's, intrigued by the ache his touch caused, captivated by his warmth and soft texture. He tensed slightly, a look of confusion on his face, but said nothing and made no attempt to pull his hand away. Amaimon tentatively raised his eyes, studying Rin's face, memorizing his favorite features: the way his silky hair fell on his brow, the vibrant blue of his eyes, the outline of his jaw, the soft curve of his lips.

Rin's cheeks turned an adoring shade of pink, and Amaimon leaned closer.

mine

Amaimon had been instinctively drawn to Rin. When they had first met, hatred lanced at him, consuming his thoughts. He wanted to fight him, hurt him, kill him. But, gradually, those feelings ebbed and melted into something unfamiliar—an emotion that tugged incessantly at his heart. Something within him had responded instantly to his warm touch and gentle voice. It was frightening—too intense, too foreign—but, at the same time, these bizarre feelings piqued his relentless curiosity. He wanted to feel more, and to know if Rin had ever felt the same...

ALL MINE

He flinched, startled by the abrupt, guttural voice, and glanced around, frantically searching for the source. But he was alone with Rin and Behemoth.

"Amaimon?" He looked at his supposed friend. Rin's hand suddenly felt wrong in his, and he pried his fingers from his grasp. "What's wrong?" His brow furrowed in a concerned expression.

He stared blankly down at his hand, wondering what had compelled him to touch Rin so intimately and what gave him the desire to do it again. "...Nothing." Behemoth purred, nuzzling his cheek, sensing his master's apprehension. Feeling unnaturally exposed in the hallway, Amaimon pushed past Rin and opened the door to his room. Rin followed.

Behemoth jumped down as soon as they entered, sniffing at the freshly cleaned floorboards. There wasn't much to his room: Amaimon had a desk underneath a large window, a closet, and a bed built into the wall. A curtain separated the other side of his room, where a roommate would be if he had been given one. He opened the closet, uncertain of what to expect. There were no clothes inside, but a full-body mirror was attached to the back of the door, surprising him. He stared at his unrecognizable reflection—his hair was disheveled and his eyes were blue bruises, sunk deep into his hollow face. He noticed his lips were compressed into a thin line, almost as though they never knew a smile. And maybe they didn't—he couldn't remember. A sensation of repugnance sparked within him at the sight and, disgusted, he softly closed the door.

Amaimon turned his attention to the desk, brow knit together as he searched through the empty drawers. Aside from the mattress and blankets covering it, the room was completely void of his personal things.

"Where's my stuff?" He wasn't even sure what his 'stuff' would be, but it felt strange that he would be living in such a vacant room.

"S-Stuff?" Rin suddenly became nervous. "Uhh," he dragged the word out as he quickly tried to come up with an excuse. Amaimon folded his arms across his chest, narrowing his eyes impatiently.

"Your things are being moved up later today." The two turned to find a tall, brown-haired boy standing in the doorway. He had the same face as Rin. "We had them moved from your old room downstairs."

"Oh, Amaimon—you remember Yukio, right?" He latched on to his brother's presence instantly.

"Hello, Amaimon. I'm Yukio, Rin's brother." Yukio reached out to shake his hand with a friendly smile plastered on his face.

He glared at his outstretched arm. "Don't touch me."

"It's just a handshak-"

"Don't touch me."

Yukio curled his fingers into a fist and struggled to keep his composure. "Don't worry—I have no intention of ever coming near you," he said. All traces of warmth in his voice had vanished at once.

KILL HIM

That was a good idea. He didn't like the way Yukio spoke, dry and stilted. He didn't like the hatred hidden in his eyes. He didn't like anything about him. Amaimon wanted to hurt him, kill him, hear him scream and beg for mercy.

RIP OUT HIS INTESTINES

The strange voice was beginning to make sense to him in a sick, twisted way.

FEED ME

Rin snapped him out of his vehement thoughts by pulling him back, putting himself between Amaimon and his brother. "He didn't mean to be rude, Amaimon. Right, Yukio?" He asked the latter through clenched teeth, earning an offended glance from his brother. Amaimon peered at the stranger from over Rin's shoulder.

"I apologize if I came off a bit too harsh. I hope you enjoy your stay here." The sincerity in his voice was fake and he instantly turned away, disappearing into the room he shared with his brother.

"I don't like him," Amaimon admitted quietly. Behemoth snorted in agreement.

"You'll get used to him eventually," Rin said, voice saturated with relief.

Amaimon shrugged a shoulder, uncaring, and returned to his room. He set his palms on the desk, leaning forward to get a better view of the Academy out his window. The collection of buildings seemed to be a maze, grand and imposing, with tall spires and peaked roofs. He briefly wondered what it was like to attend classes and whether he had once been a part of their curriculum. Amaimon nibbled on his thumb, scanning the landscape for anything that might seem vaguely familiar.

He felt Rin stand beside him and looked up. "It's boring here," he said without thinking. "I'm hungry."

Rin grinned. "I thought you'd say that. How about I cook us something to eat?"

"Cook?" He inclined his head, interest piqued by the word. "You can cook?"

"Yep—what do you want to eat?"

It took him less than a second to know his answer, "something sweet."

"Hmm," he hummed in thought and placed a finger on his chin. "I think we have some ingredients left over from the pancakes yesterday... The kitchen is down the hall by the stairs. I'll show you." With that, Amaimon pushed away from the desk and reluctantly started to follow Rin into the hall.

. . .

Rin stepped out into the hallway and paused, demonic senses hearing the familiar, faint padding of cat paws. He crouched down just as Kuro scrambled from out of the kitchen and pounced on him. "Rin! Rin! You're back!" The cat demon meowed happily, wagging his two tails. "You promised lunch when you got back, remember?"

He laughed and scratched his familiar behind his horns. "Don't worry Kuro—I didn't forget." He placed the cat down and stood. "How about some pancakes?"

"Yay! Pancakes! Pancakes!" Kuro jumped up, eagerly twirling in a tight circle.

"What are pancakes, Rin? Are they sweet?" His familiar froze when Amaimon approached them, Behemoth half-awake in his arms. The hobgoblin instantly perked up when it smelled Kuro and growled menacingly at him.

"They're sweet—you'll see. I think we still have some syrup and powdered sugar you can use." Rin frowned as he watched Kuro step back and hide behind the safety of his legs. "It's okay, Kuro." He bent down to give his familiar a reassuring pat. "Amaimon is our friend, remember?" He cursed himself for forgetting to warn the animal of the demon's arrival.

Kuro looked up at his master with wide, fearful eyes. "H-He's going to eat me!"

He rolled his eyes with a sigh. "No, he's not," he said, leaning forward and dropping his voice to a barely audible whisper. "I'll explain later—just play along for now, okay?" He didn't respond, trembling violently as Amaimon crouched beside Rin. Behemoth snarled, struggling to wiggle out of the earth king's grasp. Kuro panicked and hissed, black hackles bristling.

"I don't like cats," he said bluntly.

Rin opened his mouth to tell Amaimon his familiar would go out of his way to avoid him, but snapped it shut when he noticed the expression he wore. There was something different reflecting in his eyes, something Rin recognized from their fighting. It concerned him—Amaimon didn't know he was a demon, but that didn't make him human. His eyes were wide, his pupils turning a contrasting crimson. The demon licked his lips unknowingly, as if he was actually considering having the cat for a meal.

It was similar to the look he had given Yukio just a few minutes ago—flickers of red absorbing his pupils, daunting and unnatural.

"Amaimon...?" Jolting out of his thoughts, he looked up, tilting his head innocently, his eyes returning to their original, stoic appearance. Rin saw no trace of the wrath he had just shown to Kuro.

"What?"

"Your eyes..."

"Do you think they're pretty?" He blinked.

Rin flushed and glared. "N-No!"

"I think your eyes are pretty."

Amaimon leaned forward, his gaze intense and savage. Rin did nothing to pull away. They didn't speak or move—just stared—and, somehow, those few suspended seconds were more intimate than anything the half-demon had ever experienced.

"Rin!"

Kuro's voice brought him back to reality. He turned away from the demon, face burning with humiliation, and busied himself by anxiously twirling a lock of black hair around his finger. "I, uh, guess your eyes are okay..." Amaimon reached out hesitantly, apparently wanting to touch his hair too, and, in that instant, Behemoth roared, still furious with Kuro.

"No! D-Don't eat me!" The cat took off down the hall and Behemoth lunged out of a distracted Amaimon's arms, chasing him. They disappeared into the kitchen.

"K-Kuro!" Rin ran after them, frightened his familiar would get hurt. Amaimon followed, but with less persistence. He burst into the room, searching for any signs of movement, hearing strange, rasping sounds coming from the hobgoblin.

"It's okay." Amaimon casually strode in, showing no concern for either familiar. "They're just playing."

"Playing!?" But, when Rin found them on the other side of the bar, he realized the demon was right. Kuro was trapped under Behemoth, squirming and laughing loudly as the hobgoblin licked him.

"Stop! Stop—I'm ticklish!" He managed to break free, and the familiars chased each other around the dining table. Rin chuckled, watching the two play their game of tag, and relaxed.

"Where are the pancakes?"

"I have to make them. It won't take long—why don't you sit down and take a break for a bit?"

Without hesitation, Amaimon moved a chair aside and seated himself in the dining room, pulling his legs up and resting his chin on his knees. He ignored the wrestling animals and instead stared at something unseen in the distance, his eyes far away, his expression contemplative. While pulling out ingredients, Rin noticed that he had positioned himself in the furthermost corner, away from the kitchen area and the door. The half-demon sighed, wondering if he would ever get the earth king to trust him.

"So, Amaimon," he began in a cheery voice as he continued to work, "how do you feel about your new room?"

There was a short pause before the earth demon responded, tone sullen and wistful. "I feel like my life is a book written in a language I can't read."

Rin stopped, hands frozen in place. In his excitement, he had forgotten how empty Amaimon must feel with no memories of his past. He felt selfish, but, at the same time, he was glad he couldn't remember who he once was. The earth king was a different person now—there were still hints of his childish, violent personality, but he had indeed changed. And, though he would never admit it out loud, he liked this new Amaimon...a lot more than he should.

"Don't worry, Amaimon," he said, trying to give the demon some confidence. "Things will get better soon." Rin poured the batter mixture into the heated pan mindlessly, his thoughts elsewhere.

"I'll help." He jumped when Amaimon reached from behind and grabbed his hand.

"H-Huh!?"

"I want to play too." He was standing awkwardly close, his breath on Rin's ear.

"W-Why don't you go play with Kuro and Behemoth?"

He glanced back at the wrestling familiars with a lack of interest. "But I want to play with Rin." He turned back to the half-demon. "You don't want to play? Don't you like me, Rin?"

Rin felt an instant stab of guilt at his words—everything seemed to make him feel guilty these past few days. "Of course I like you..." He shook his head and replaced his startled frown with a brilliant smile. "Here, I'll show you how to flip pancakes!"

. . .

FEED ME

The words echoed in Amaimon's mind, a vibration that washed across him, consuming his thoughts and desires. Images of him biting the soft, supple flesh of Rin's neck flooded his mind. He couldn't escape the palpable taste of his blood, the strange sensations that came with this unwanted fantasy, no matter how hard he tried.

His body was a traitor, suddenly responding to the violent images. Shimmering need and desire flashed through him, and Amaimon found himself edging closer and closer to Rin's neck, licking his lips with anticipation.

YES
BITE HIM
KILL HIM

"—Like this, okay?"

Amaimon blinked, the disembodied voice gone. It took him a moment to realize Rin was instructing him on how to flip a pancake. "...Huh?"

Rin frowned and raised a brow. "Did you hear anything I just said?"

"No." He backed away. "Are the pancakes ready?" Rin sighed, rolling his eyes, and returned his attention to the stove.

. . .
Later That Night

Amaimon dug through the single box of his things Yukio had brought up, hoping that seeing them again would spark hidden memories in the back of his mind. He pulled out book after book of what Rin referred to as 'manga', video games, a console and two matching controllers, a bag of lollipops, and a soft, light blue yukata decorated with a coal tar pattern—he didn't really question how he knew they were coal tar, simply satisfied that he found the pattern familiar. He immediately changed out of Rin's clothes, enjoying how the fabric felt against his skin.

Rin helped him sort through the box, but it seemed like he was more interested in the manga collection than offering his friend any consolation. "How did you get this!?" He held up a book that was indistinguishable from all the others. "This isn't even out yet!"

He shrugged. "You can have it."

His words instantly quelled Rin's excitement. "N-No, it's yours," he said, placing the book gently back on top of the discarded pile.

Amaimon didn't understand his sudden change in behavior—if he wanted it, why didn't he just take it? There was nothing to stop him. He picked it up and shoved it back into Rin's hand. "Keep it. It doesn't mean much to me anyway." None of these things did.

Rin stared at it with a solemn expression and Amaimon wondered if he did something wrong. Before he could gather the courage to ask, Yukio knocked on the open door. "Time for bed," he announced, deliberately avoiding eye contact with Amaimon.

He stood, brushing invisible dirt off his yukata, and pushed the box aside with a bare foot. Behemoth was already fast asleep, exhausted from his day with Kuro, curled up in a tight ball at the edge of his bed. "Amaimon." He glanced back at Rin, who was lingering in his doorway. "Good night," he said, giving him that gentle smile he found so endearing.

MINE

"...Good night."

. . .

Yukio locked their room door after Rin had settled into his bed, jiggling the handle to make sure it was secure. He glared at him with a raised brow. "What are you doing?"

"Just in case." He sat down at his desk and clicked the lamp on.

"Just in case what?" Yukio's suspicious behavior was really starting to aggravate him.

He frowned. "For all we know, he could be lying, nii-san. I don't trust him, and neither should you."

Rin wasn't convinced. No one, not even a demon, could fake that level of innocence. "He's not lying."

"Don't you think it's a bit strange that he just...believes everything you say?"

He had a point—Amaimon's instant acceptance was probably one of the strangest things Rin had ever experienced. But, despite this, he found himself enjoying the demon's trust. "Well, what would you do if you lost all your memories, Yukio? You would have to trust someone, right?"

"He's a demon, nii-san—demons don't know trust. Listen, I know you're sick of hearing this, so I'm only going to say it once: don't give him the opportunity to become attached to you." Yukio turned on his computer and opened a textbook, abruptly ending their conversation.

Rin laid back on his pillow, staring at the ceiling, his twin's words echoing in his mind.