Hiruma lost one game- one- to a twerp that was all about the "power of friendship" and "goodness"; and now he was taking the brat and the other guy to the shadow world.
"I said fuck no," Hiruma the Grimm Reaper continued to type on his laptop without looking up, annoyance showing through. He had people to kill, mayhem to bring about.
The brat- the unrealistic mortal child- was named Sena. At 5'2, the high schooler was a bundle of soft hair and an even softer voice. Out of all the people who could best the Grimm Reaper, it just had to be a kid who couldn't fight his way out of a wet paper bag.
"What's wrong, Sena?" Almost as bad was Sena's best friend, who without, Hiruma would have clearly won that stupid game. At least the Seijuro kid was respectable in the sense that he wasn't made of strawberry frosting, even with his sense of justice and shit. (Hiruma had seen Seijuro chase after a car to return a one dollar bill.) Sena, on the other hand, went out of his way to talk to cats.
Hiruma typed faster, deciding that he would, in fact, harvest the souls of an orphanage. Just to spite the goody two-shoes and the knight wannabe.
"Nothing, it's just that," oh boy, Hiruma thought, Sena would start his bitching and get Seijuro's knight complex started again, "I was talking to Agon, and-"
"Don't talk to that guy," Hiruma said. "Don't even say his name near me."
"I agree," Seijuro said, which normally would be rare, except that no one liked spoiled demi gods with a penchant for disaster. Disaster was Hiruma's job; and that bastard was a pain in the ass, anyway.
"Ano," Sena fidgeted, "I didn't have much of a choice, he snuck into my room-"
Seijuro turned dangerous, which was where the respect thing came in. The knight wannabe actually looked like he could kill that dread head waste of space.
"Seijuro, please calm down-"
"That is a severe lack of respect-"
"He didn't do anything-"
"If that happens again-"
"The point, shorty," Hiruma had it with the lover's spat.
"Ah, well, Agon mentioned that the shadow world is where shadows come from; that there would be our shadow selves there..." The kid made a vague hand motion. "A shadow version of Pit..."
Hiruma, who was immortal, would kill himself if the brat's rambling went in the direction he thought it was going.
"And, um, my parents said I couldn't have a cat besides Pit, but Pit's shadow version wouldn't technically be against the rules."
Hiruma closed his laptop. "You want to go to the shadow world," Sena nodded, "the crossroads of interdementional space, where the threads of the macrocosms are woven, just to get another cat," another nod.
Hiruma looked at Seijuro, who looked like he would go to the ends of the universe for Sena. Hiruma never wanted to understand.
"Fuck this," Hiruma said, but took out his bazooka and blasted a portal to the shadow world.
::::-::::
"Before you even open your nitwit mouths: the shadow world looks just like where we came from; your shadow selves are what you're not; we can't leave for twelve fucking hours; I hope you die." Hiruma started typing again.
"Let's look around, Sena," Seijuro placed his hand on Sena's back.
"Okay let's-"
At their feet, their shadows bubbled up from the floor and materialised. Sena blinked. His shadow self was of average height and build for a teenage boy Sena's age. He seemed really... average.
"Hello," shadow Sena said. He stuck out a hand. "I guess it's nice to meet you? Even though we're the same person and all."
Sena shook shadow Sena's hand, "Y-yeah, nice to meet you too!"
Seijuro's shadow self was... even more muscular than Seijuro.
This means I'm the lazy one, Seijuro, who could bench press 310 pounds, thought regretfully. I must increase my training regimen once we return.
"What brings you here?" shadow Seijuro asked, lifting three hundred pound dumbbells easily.
"We've come here for Pit," Seijuro said. He raised his hundred pound dumbbells bitterly. How could he ever hope to be a good match at this rate for Sena?
"Ah, I don't own a cat," shadow Sena said. Shadow Seijuro started juggling the ridiculous dumbbells.
"But, but I do? I thought you would, too..."
Shadow Sena shrugged. "Guess I never thought to get one."
"Oh..."
"You guys want a snack?" Shadow Sena asked. Seijuro narrowed his eyes; he would take careful notes on what his shadow version ate and compare to his own diet.
::::-::::
Turns out, a snack for shadow Sena consisted of plain rice, water, and buttered white bread. Shadow Seijuro ate an impressive amount of health food, plus supplements, plus vitamins, and three protein drinks. Then he went off for a twenty-five mile run.
It seems that my shadow self is rather plain, Sena thought. In fact, shadow Sena reminded him a lot of Ishimaru, with his plain clothes and average looks.
Just then, Sena noticed Pit's tail peeking out from the next room.
"What-?"
"Duck!" Seijuro shouted as he tackled Sena to the ground. Two glinting knives were stuck in the wall where Sena's head had just been.
Shadow Sena, hand still outstretched, locked eyes with his other self.
"I thought so," Seijuro said, still crouched over Sena, "beneath you clothes, your muscles are those of a skilled knife thrower."
(Sena and Seijuro had gone to the circus a few weeks ago, but Sena was still impressed with Seijuro's muscle-reading skills. And also thankful, otherwise he'd be dead.)
"Heh, figured out so easily?" Shadow Sena cracked his neck. "No matter, I'll kill this version, too. I think I like your world the best." He grabbed another knife from a rack on the kitchen counter.
He threw the knife at the pair. Sena rolled out of the way, knocking over a chair for temporary cover. Seijuro twisted away, grabbing the knife from the wall.
"Fu fu fu," shadow Sena covered his face, stifling his laughter. "Who will I go for, who will I-?" Shadow Sena choked, gargling out blood. He looked down, from the center of his chest was the handle of a knife, firmly lodged into his flesh, protruding out. Shadow Sena registered his other self drawing his hand back and then everything turned black.
"What the fuck." Hiruma had been drawn to the smell of blood, and hoped the brat had finally died. He pinched the bridge of his nose and cursed his perpetual optimism. "Of all the times for you to grow a backbone, you choose to kill your-" He threw his hand up. "Forget it. We're never fucking coming back here again." He walked back out.
"We should get your cat," Seijuro said.
Sena nodded, a little shaky from just having committed homicide (suicide?).
::::-::::
The three of them sat stiffly on the shadow version of Sena's couch, watching the shadow world's version of Golden Girls. Shadow Pit was the same as regular Pit for whatever reason, and she cuddled into Sena's lap. Hiruma had claimed one arm rest, Seijuro got the other, so Sena was wedged in the middle.
They waited for the remaining time to be up.
"So, since my shadow self is-"
"Don't talk."
"But-"
"Don't."
"I-"
"No."
Sena quieted. He leaned against Seijuro's shoulder. Murder made him sleepy. He'd deal with the consequences later.
Seijuro curled his arm around Sena's shoulders and tried to subtly cross his legs. Seeing Sena so... passionate did things to him.
Hiruma, typing with a ferocity unmatched in any universe, was going to send pictures of the knight and the brat getting all chummy to the dread head as revenge. He had a headache