The beast picked him up again with both hands—like he had the doctor—and placed him in his open mouth. Its tongue was rough and wet, and Amaimon felt like he would throw up. The sleeve of his gown had snagged on one of its teeth, easily piercing the soft flesh of his upper arm.

"N-No, don't! Let me go!" he begged, tears stinging his eyes.

Slowly, it closed its jaw. Amaimon could feel its teeth digging into his arm, grinding against bone. He could taste his blood in his mouth and feel his legs being ripped gradually from his body. Using all of his remaining strength, he pressed his weight against the creature's tongue, punching and clawing at its thick skin with his free hand to force open its jaw, but it only laughed at him.

Chapter Five
. . .
Ghost

"I don't need your help," Amaimon spat angrily, smacking Rin's hand away. "I can stand up by myself." Holding tightly to Behemoth, he clambered awkwardly to his feet, using the wall behind him to support him as his legs trembled beneath him. His arm throbbed with pain and he felt a line of warm blood trickling down to his wrist.

Clenching his jaw tight, Amaimon smothered a grimace and followed the brothers back down the hall to their bedroom. They were arguing about classes, but he didn't bother to pay attention to their bickering.

YOU'RE WEAK
PATHETIC
WORTHLESS

The voice snarled at him, disgusted and appalled. "Be quiet—this is your fault anyway," he shot back under his breath. It responded with a low growl that quickly faded into the back of his mind when Rin turned to smile innocently at him.

Humiliated, Amaimon lowered his eyes to his stained sleeve.

How was something like this possible? He was bitten in his dreams by a monster that his missing memories had created to compensate for a lack of a past. At least, Amaimon had convinced himself that the creature wasn't real—merely a figment of his imagination. But, this wound...it had bitten him in the exact spot during his nightmare. He could still feel its teeth digging into his flesh, grinding against bone.

With a shudder, he shook his head to clear the memory, but the sensation stayed with him, vivid and painful.

Behemoth squirmed uncomfortably in his snug grasp. Amaimon released him, not realizing how hard he was clinging to the little animal. He darted in as soon as Rin opened the door to their bedroom. Yukio continued down the hall without so much as a glance back at them.

It wasn't difficult to tell which bed belonged to which brother—even for someone as unfamiliar with their personalities as Amaimon. Rin's half of the room was a disorderly mess, with manga books piled on the floor and discarded clothes strewn about everywhere. Yukio, however, had neatly made his bed. His desk was covered with meticulous notes and a large computer monitor. Amaimon pushed aside Rin's blanket and sat on the edge of his bed. Kuro hopped down from the mattress to wrestle with Behemoth.

"So, uh, what happened?" Rin asked, nodding to the bloodstain as he sat beside him.

GO ON
TELL HIM

He opened his mouth to respond, but the monster, its voice echoing and scornful, silenced him. What was he supposed to say? I was attacked by a monster in my dreams and, somehow, a small part of the wounds I received transferred to my waking life. Amaimon couldn't tell him that—he could hardly believe it himself.

The voice roared with laughter, and it took everything he had to control his raging temper.

WHAT'S WRONG?
AFRAID HE'LL CALL YOU MAD?
WORRIED HE WON'T LIKE YOU ANYMORE?
BUT I'M NOT REAL AMAIMON

Rin noticed the apprehension in his silence. "It's okay, Amaimon—you can tell me. We're friends, remember?"

FRIENDS?
LIAR
I AM YOUR ONLY FRIEND
KILL HIM

Something pulled hard on Amaimon's emotions, steering his thoughts, making him irrationally furious. The very sound of the word 'friends' overshadowed everything he felt, and a spasm of anger rippled across his face. "I'm not your friend," he spat, glaring.

Undaunted by his almost instant rage, Rin only laughed. "Of course you are! You just don't remember-"

"You're right—I don't remember," he said abruptly, cutting him short. "So how do I know you're not lying to me?"

He accepted the verbal abuse with nothing but a soft smile. "You don't. You just have to trust me." Amaimon's eyes widened slightly, startled by his kindness. His fury slowly began to wane.

FEED ME

And just like that, it was back, slamming into him, making his head spin. He leaned toward Rin, as if something had taken complete control of his body. An undeniable, violent urge to tear into his neck overcame him. Amaimon struggled to fight it, to resist, but he didn't know how, and the look of confusion the other male gave him only served to further scatter his incoherent thoughts. He pushed Rin down on to the bed, baring his teeth, a deep, guttural growl rumbling in the back of his throat against his will.

It sounded just like the monster.

He felt sick, disgusted, as though something dead was slithering over his naked skin.

Stop! As soon as the thought registered, Amaimon regained control of himself. He sat back, cradling his head, disorientated by the sudden disappearance of the presence in his head. Eventually, he released the breath he was holding and lowered his arms.

"Amaimon..." He looked up unintentionally at the sound of his name, and locked eyes with Rin. He didn't seem repulsed or angry or offended—just worried. "Is everything okay? Do you want to talk?" He shook his head, refusing to explain his tasteless behavior. "That's okay." Amaimon was utterly shocked when Rin gave him a brilliant smile. "You can tell me when you're ready."

His breath caught in his throat. "Why?"

"Why what?" He chuckled. "I told you—we're friends! I'm not going to force anything out of you. I trust you to tell me when you're ready."

"Trust me?"

He nodded once. "Of course."

Amaimon felt himself relax, felt the tension leaving his face, felt the monster recede further into the back of his subconscious. It was almost as if the closer he was to Rin, the more he listened to that gentle voice, the easier it was to resist the voice in his head, the more distant it became. "Then... I'll trust you too."

He shifted his weight on the bed and accidentally brushed his fingertips against Rin's. The beast let out another growl, sickened by the contact, but it was barely audible to Amaimon. He took his hand gently, entwining their fingers, finally silencing the monster. Immediately, Rin blushed and pulled his hand away, massaging the back of his neck nervously. Amaimon slid his hand across the bedsheets as he moved closer, touching him again, causing the pink color that dusted his cheeks to darken.

"Rin," Amaimon called his name, forcing them to make eye contact, and almost melted into his clueless, blue gaze. Everything about him was so perfect; his hair, his toned body, his tender voice, even his scent. Rin exuded innocence to an astonishing level—an innocence that he craved, that he wanted to selfishly claim.

If being this close to him caused the monster in his head to flee, what would happen if he moved closer? What would happen if they kissed?

Amaimon desperately wanted to find out.

. . .

His insides tightened and his stomach knotted as Amaimon's hand touched his.

Rin knew what the demon king was doing, what his actions were leading up to, and he wasn't ready for it. Yes, he liked Amaimon—it felt like he was instinctively attracted to him—and he seemed to spark an unfamiliar, inexplicable need within him.

A month ago, he wouldn't dare think about Amaimon like this. But this new Amaimon was...magnificent, lovely, cute. He was emotional and expressive; his short, green brow twisting up as he pouted, or sinking down as he frowned, or knitting together as he fell into his thoughts. His touch was gentle and hesitant, and Rin loved everything about him, even the cyan hue of his eyes and the long lashes that bordered them.

Still, he wasn't certain if this was what he wanted.

Logic told him not to give in to these spontaneous emotions, this lust. It wasn't love, merely infatuation; after all, this was a demon king, the very one who tried to kill him just a short time ago. He couldn't grow to love someone like that in only a few days.

...Then again, Rin didn't really respond well to logic.

He wanted to back away as the earth king leaned closer, but he didn't. Amaimon's hand traveled further up his arm, black nails gently raking against his skin, making him shiver. They were so close now—he could feel the demon's breath on his lips, smell the faint scent of a blue raspberry lollipop. Their noses touched, and Rin felt himself teetering on the edge of his bed. There was nowhere for him to go now—he was trapped between falling on the floor and kissing Amaimon.

"S-Stop," he said, pressing his hand against the demon's lips to keep him from trying anything—and to keep himself from giving in to his impulsive urges.

Yukio suddenly opened the door, interrupting them. In a panic, Rin scrambled to his feet, tripping over his forgotten blanket and backing clumsily into his desk. His brother raised a brow at him as he placed down an armful of medical supplies. "You okay, nii-san?"

Amaimon sat casually on the bed, nibbling his thumb, his expression stoic and distant.

"U-Uh, ye-yeah." He cleared his throat awkwardly to rid his voice of its stutter. "I'm fine."

He let out a sigh, shaking his head, and rolled his desk chair over to Rin's bed. "Alright, Amaimon," he said, sitting down. "Let's see."

Hesitantly, Amaimon shrugged his injured arm out of the top of his yukata, wary of Yukio's hands and the strange things he had brought with him. The demon king had three deep puncture wounds on the top and underside of his upper arm. Rin thought they looked oddly similar to a picture of a bite he had seen during exorcist classes.

Yukio, brow knit in concentration, rotated Amaimon's arm as he examined it, wiping away small amounts of blood as they emerged from his twisting. "How did you get this?"

"I don't know." Though he kept his face unreadable, Amaimon's voice was uneasy. It was obvious that he was hiding something. Yukio gave him a flat glance, but it only encouraged the demon to remain silent.

"It looks like a demon bite," Rin mused aloud, tilting his head.

Yukio raised his eyes to his brother, startled that he had guessed something correctly. "That's right—I'm impressed, nii-san. I didn't think you paid attention in class."

Rin gave him an offended scowl. "I pay attention sometimes!"

"I don't doubt that, nii-san," he responded sarcastically, turning his attention back to Amaimon. "You're fine. As long as we keep it clean and covered, the wound should heal in a few days."

The half-demon narrowed his eyes at his brother and stuck his tongue out at the back of his head. Amaimon let out a small laugh at the sight. Astonished by the sound, both Okumura twins stared at him with wide eyes. The oddly effusive expression was quickly wiped from his face and he averted his gaze, covering his mouth with his free hand.

He's adorable. A smile instantly brightened Rin's features. "You should laugh more—it's cute."

Amaimon glared at the wall, a light pink blush appearing faintly on his cheeks. He pressed his lips together tightly, smothering a growl. Rin couldn't help but laugh.

"Since when did you find Amaimon cute, nii-san?" There was a bite to Yukio's tone that didn't go unnoticed.

"N-None of your business!" Rin flushed, folded his arms against his chest, and pouted. He contented himself with watching silently as his brother finished wrapping Amaimon's arm in a clean bandage.

When Yukio was done, he gathered the supplies he brought and left the room without a word. Amaimon examined the bandage, picking at the edges curiously. "Rin?"

"Yeah?" He sat on the bed beside the earth king, remembering to keep his distance.

He hesitated, rubbing his hand up and down his injured arm. "...If I told you I heard a voice in my head, would you call me crazy?" Amaimon looked up, locking eyes with him.

Rin held his gaze. "What do you mean?"

"There's this voice that...talks to me sometimes. I had a dream last night that it attacked me..." He shuddered at the memory, and it didn't seem like he was going to continue.

"Is it a demon?"

Amaimon's eyes widened. "Yeah—a big monster that looks like a lizard. How did you know?"

Something in his voice sent icy chills down his spine. If this demon—or whatever it was—frightened Amaimon this much...

He had to tell Yukio. His younger brother knew far more about demons than he did and, if in fact Amaimon was being attacked by something he couldn't see and this wasn't a figment of his imagination, they needed to do something about it, before... This small wound was just the beginning. If Amaimon was killed because of this thing and Rin did nothing to stop it, he would never be able to forgive himself.

But he couldn't say any of that out loud—it might make the earth king even more anxious. Instead, he dismissed his question and told him what he needed to hear. "I don't think you're crazy, Amaimon."

He inclined his head, narrowing his eyes incredulously. "You don't?"

"Of course not." Rin gently tugged the yukata up to cover his bare shoulder and smiled, meeting his cerulean eyes again. "But, from now on, you have to promise you'll talk to me. I'm your best friend—I won't judge you or turn you away. So, when you're ready to talk, don't be afraid of me."

Amaimon stared at him blankly, the expression in his eyes unreadable. He grew nervous and turned his attention to the bandage around his arm, poking at it tentatively. Before long, Yukio returned. He walked over to his closet with a quick, long stride and yanked his uniform jacket off its hanger.

. . .

"Hey, Yukio!" Rin abruptly stood from the bed and grabbed his brother's elbow to keep him from leaving.

"I'm late, nii-san. Can this wait?"

"Not really." He lowered his voice to a dull whisper and Amaimon could no longer hear what he was saying.

Yukio glared over his twin's shoulder at him. The mingled look of horror and concern that crossed his face as Rin continued to speak in mumbled words made him uncomfortable. He knew Rin would tell Yukio about his problem—and why shouldn't he? If the monster could hurt him like this, he could only imagine what it would eventually learn to do to others. Regardless, he was relieved that Rin took his nightmare seriously and was only slightly troubled by how Yukio would handle it.

"Hey, Amaimon—do me a favor and wait for me in the kitchen, okay?" Rin gave him a playful wink. "You can help me make breakfast!"

"Are you going to make something sweet?"

All the emotion vanished from his face with a short, annoyed huff. "Yes, Amaimon, I'll make something sweet."

"Good." He nodded his approval and left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

Alone in the empty hallway, he sighed through his nose, lingering outside the door, remembering Rin's smile curving his eyes, his fingers on his arm, the scent of his breath. Despite having an unexplainable wound and a voice in his head that wanted him to kill his friends, he somehow felt elated, content, relaxed.

With another wistful sigh, he started for the kitchen. Almost immediately, something from the recesses of his mind jerked him back violently, causing his head to ache and his vision to swirl.

STOP
GO BACK

"Why?" he snapped, irritated and startled. His body jerked again and he gave in, returning to the bedroom.

LISTEN

Curious, Amaimon quietly leaned against the door and pressed his ear to it.

"This isn't good, nii-san," Yukio was saying. There was a brief pause as he typed something into his computer. "From the research I've done, it's said that when a demon loses his heart, his mind is ripped in two: the host and the remnants of the demon. The host takes precedence over the body, obviously, but, the remaining consciousness of the demon will try to take command of it—basically, they fight over the body. Sometimes the demon materializes and eats its host. Sometimes the host ends his own life to escape his descent into madness."

"Then...that means..." Rin's voice was so soft that Amaimon had to strain to hear. It sounded haunted and sad.

"Yes. Amaimon's wound is self-inflicted—either by himself or by this voice he supposedly hears in his head. He's a demon king, so the thing trapped inside him is going to be several times more powerful than what we have recorded. It will probably expedite...whatever happens internally when a demon loses his heart."

"What should we do?"

"For today, I want you to stay home from normal classes and take him back to the doctor-"

Amaimon didn't understand what they were discussing, nor did he care. Losing interest, he turned and made his way toward the kitchen again, ignoring the protesting snarls in his head. He sat down in the chair that he had moved the day before. Amaimon rested his head on his chin and watched Behemoth and Kuro sleeping peacefully under the dining table with a bored face. "Hey," he called out to the disembodied voice of the monster. "Can we talk?"

WHAT DO YOU WANT?

"Who are you?"

I AM YOU

He rolled his eyes. "Right—I understand that. Do you have a name?" The voice grew silent, almost sullen. "I guess you don't remember either...do you?" Nothing. "I have to call you something..." His voice trailed off as he thought of a name that suited the lizard-like being. "I'll call you Ghost—because I can hear you, but I can't see you." Ghost growled his displeasure at being named, but made no further attempt to complain.