The smell of cooking breakfast wafted through the small apartments and down the stairs outside the building, the pungent aroma of sizzling food making the occupants all lift their heads from their pillows and sniff the air hopefully, barely aware of their actions. Maou, however, remained fixed in his own little world, not to be disturbed by his seemingly automatic functions of food preparations.

'What the hell was that,' Maou thought to himself, the vision of Emilia the Hero still vivid and unreal behind his scarlet eyes, 'and why is my body reacting like this?'

Maou stopped, looking down at his hand. It shook as it held the spatula, his breathing was shaky and uneven and his heart was thumping painfully in his chest. His mind was moving at a snail's pace and it was filled with visions of a certain green eyed, red haired Hero. He gulped past the lump in his throat and felt as if he were being lifted off of the floor of the apartment by his stomach, which lurched as if he'd missed a step going down the stairs. With a casual side glance, Maou picked out Emi's form among the large mass of sleeping bags upon the floor. It seemed Maou's food had subconsciously pulled Emi's face back out from under where she had hid it under the sleeping bag. She was resting peacefully, and as Maou found himself staring at her, he noticed how he wasn't just looking at the Hero, he was looking at her every detail. From the shape of her nose to the uncharacteristically blank and content expression upon her face. From the way her hair fell across her forehead to the, steady, rhythmic rising and falling of her chest as she drew breath. And as Maou stared, he found he couldn't get enough, as if he were breathing air or drinking water for the first time ever, he found he couldn't get enough of the sunlit vision before him. He felt tears in his eyes as he stared, his mind reeling, unable to form even the simplest sentences. Only one word came to mind as he gazed with fierce longing upon Emi.

"Beautiful," Maou whispered aloud. His functions were suspended, and he leaned against the hot stove as a moment of dire panic and realization hit him like a freight train. He'd only ever felt this panic a few times before in his life. Once when he had been bested by Emilia the Hero, and driven from Ente Isla. Panic and rage had taken hold, and he'd ripped open a gate into an unknown world, not knowing what would happen. He felt this panic now, except he felt no rage here. It seemed strange to Maou, for he still had that similarly crippling feeling that fate was about to pull the world from underneath his feet. Another glance over his shoulder at the sleeping form of Emi confirmed his suspicions. He stared blankly into the frying pan as breakfast slowly began to char and overcook. Somehow, in between the bickering and the pestering, the stalking and the fighting, the forgiving and the forgetting, Maou, the King of Demons and Terror of Ente Isla, had fallen in love with the Hero.

Maou felt his world flip upside down with the thought and he steadied himself with the stove, accidentally burning his hand in the process. The pain, however, was helpful. It pulled him from his realization and back to the now, where if he let the frying pan go any longer without attendance, it would set off a smoke alarm. Maou felt his mind slip back into the gut wrenching, terror inducing realization and he squeezed the burns on his hand, using the pain to combat his emotions. He tossed the charred remains of his first attempt at breakfast into a bag and tossed said bag into the freezer to cool down. He then washed the frying pan while it was still hot and prepared breakfast once more, his eyes filling with tears from the pain. As he cooked, he thought about his feelings from a logical perspective.

'How could I have let this happen… dammit,' Maou thought as he thumped eggs against the counter to crack their shells.

'Maou, you stupid son of a bitch, why did you let this happen… you know that you can't….'

His thoughts all took this form, and within moments he was overwhelmed by a tidal wave of logical reasons to give up his newfound feelings for Emilia.

'We can't be together,' Maou thought, 'Emi would never accept you as a lover… you have to be alone, for the sake of demonkind… you can't get distracted, your troops and your kin are all relying on you… but she's so beautiful… and so smart… charming and funny and amazing in every way. NO!'

Maou clenched his burned hand and let out a breath to vent his feelings of the pain. Both in his heart and upon his hand, the pain was excruciating. Tears spilt from his eyes and he flicked them away angrily, hating himself for his weak willed heart. Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, Maou despised himself for his weakness. He was unfit to rule the demons of the world, and he was unfit to fall in love with Emi, he was unfit to receive such loyalty from Ashiya. In a sense, he deserved this pain, and he deserved to be hated by Emi and he deserved to be put to death for his crimes against humanity. Turning pale, Maou clenched and unclenched his fist quickly, using his good hand to flip the eggs and prepare breakfast. Within a few minutes he'd whipped up a nice little meal for his friends and one by one he woke them.

"Morning," Chiho said happily, stretching and looking like the day was hers and hers alone to seize.

"Morning," said Maou, trying to smile as he dished Chiho a plate.

"Maou, you ok?"

"Fine," he said, smiling even wider, "here's breakfast in bed for you, yes, for you too, Urushihara."

"Thanks," Lucifer said, his violet eyes flashing at the veritable feast of breakfast before him. As he dug in, Maou continued in that manner, waking everyone and handing them a plate of breakfast, until he finally reached Emi. The thought that he had fallen for her suddenly made his awkward human emotions make some sense. The way he always felt the need to be around her, the way she seemed to constantly draw his gaze, the fact that he was always so self-conscious when he was around her…

"Hey Emi," Maou said gently, grabbing one of Emi's shoulders and softly shaking her awake.

She woke gradually, sleepily and was still rather tired. Slowly but surely, she registered Maou standing over her, holding a plate of breakfast and looking as if he'd seen the light of the sun for the first time. His smile was tired and he had dark circles under his eyes. Even so, he looked… apologetic? Embarrassed? What was it? Whatever it was, Emi could see an underlying sadness. She accepted the plate of breakfast and in the moment she did, their hands touched. They looked at each other hard for a moment before Maou stood and turned away. In the moment before he did, however, Emi saw his smile flicker and die, replaced with look of unbearable heartache and grievous torment. His frown was steeped in his overwhelming soup of emotional distress and in Emi became concerned, looking Maou over carefully. What could be wrong with him? In a moment, she spotted his hand and she stood, setting aside her food while everyone else chewed upon mouthfuls of delicious breakfast gratefully. Maou left the stifling air of the apartment for the fresh, brisk air of the cool morning, sitting upon the steps as he had last night.

After making sure no one was around, he smoothed down his unkempt raven hair and held his face in his hands, thinking hard. But no matter what he thought about, it always came back to Emi. No matter how far off he cast his mental lines, no matter how much he changed the tracks for his train of thought, there was Emi, conducting the train. There she was on the boat of his subconscious with him as he cast about for anything to take her off his mind. Again, Maou, the Ruler of Demons, resorted to petty human pain to rid himself of his heart's desires. With a swift punch to his burnt hand and a sharp intake of breath, Maou felt the pain shoot up his forearm, breaking his concentration and forcing him to take his mind off of the Hero.

'Get it together, you loser, if anyone suspects anything they'll call you out on it, and your easier to read than a book. Dammit all, who's that now,' Maou thought savagely.

The door to his apartment opened and Maou stopped hunching over. He straightened up and turned about to see Emi, having followed him from the apartment. She was carrying a bottle of antibiotic ointment, a tube of aloe and a large bandage.

"Hey, Emi!"

The transformation between alone-Maou and his cheery, Emi-inspired counterpart was swift and terrifying. Within moments, he'd put aside his self-doubt, his anguish and his pain. The only thing that mattered was that Emi not be even the slightest bit uncertain of Maou's motive. His freshly realized one sided adoration of the Hero would bring his plans to secure a future for the demons of Ente Isla crumbling down if she were to find out… No, for the sake of every one of his people he had to make sure Emi was clueless.

"Hey Maou," Emi replied, looking Maou over carefully. The transformation had not been lost upon her, and Emi was already suspicious of the Devil. Was he just trying to be nice? What was up with this guy? Emi took a seat next to Maou upon the cramped stairway and took his burnt hand. Lightning shot through Maou's limbs and he snatched his hand away, looking at Emi incredulously. Maou had never felt this way before, always so distracted as he was with survival and with his ascension to power. And now, for the first time, he had fallen (almost literally) in love. It left him feeling open and vulnerable, so when Emi grabbed Maou's hand, he reacted as any prominent figure fearing for their life would, as Emi was the one person Maou now feared above all others. Give him a muscled, manly, in-your-face foe any day. Hell, give him ten, and equip them all with axes and polearms and heavy plate. At least then he could hurt his opponents and fight for his life, but with Emi, he couldn't do that, if she tried to kill him then and there, Maou could parry all he like, but he could never fight back, not against her.

Emi was taken aback by Maou's suddenly fearful expression, as if he'd just been accosted by someone who knew exactly how to destroy him. Emi now looked fearful, but not for herself, for Maou. He had been acting so strange, and now he pulled away when she tried to touch him?

'How does everything I think about us sound so bad,' Emi thought to herself.

"What's going on with you," Emi asked, gently taking Maou's burnt hand in a firm grip. Again, he pulled away, but Emi held his wrist in an iron grip and looked into his eyes, which he kept averted from her.

With a mighty pull, Emi pulled Maou's arm away from him and after a moment, he stopped fighting. She let go of Maou's wrist and began to clean, aloe and bandage his burn. Meanwhile, Maou simply looked the other way, doing his best to ignore the bursts of adrenaline that shot from their contact and wound up making him shiver whenever their skin met. After Emi finished applying the bandages, Maou quickly took his arm away to find a very clean and well done bandage. Almost impulsively, he used his good hand to firmly massage the burn, the pain stabilizing him and keeping him pinned to the present. Emi gazed at Maou with wide eyes, concern etched on every line of her face.

"Maou… what's wrong with you?"

"Nothing."

"Oh," Emi said, angrily swatting away the hair from her face, "I know you aren't lying to me… I know that even you aren't that stupid."

Maou smiled, still shivering from the aftermath of the hormonal attack Emi's touch had created in his body. The smile was fake and practiced and his crimson eyes still shone through with an implacable sadness, making Emi want to punch Maou.

"I'm not lying," Maou said, his voice cracking, "I'm telling the truth, Emi. I just slipped on the stove and got burned is all. There's nothing wrong."

"Oh yeah?"

Emi made to grab Maou's hand again and he retreated, moving so fast he almost hit his head upon the railing next to him. Emi looked triumphant, as if she'd made her point, but Maou simply continued to smile his ridiculous smile and once more took up a space next to Emi upon the stairwell.

"There was a time when the Demon King never flinched from a blow I gave him, much less a simple gesture of gratitude," Emi said, "so tell me again there's nothing wrong. I dare you."

Emi slid herself as close to Maou as she could, and as if they were both magnetsd Maou slid away from her, leaning away as she pressed herself upon him.

"What in the world has gotten into you, Maou," Emi asked, a look of unhappiness upon her face.

"Hey, Emi, are you gonna eat your-"

It was Urushihara, who had come out to ask if he could eat Emi's breakfast, as she had set it aside to help Maou with his injury, but upon seeing the look on Emi's face, he was silent.

"Whoa," Urushihara stated.

Maou felt his anger explode through a dam in his chest. He'd always looked down upon those with poor timing, but this was just plain ridiculous.

"Urushihara," Maou said, not looking at the man himself, "get back inside, I will be in shortly."

"But-"

"Get. Inside. Now. Or else I swear to God, I will take that fucking laptop and bash it over your head…"

Urushihara was terrified, and from the look on Maou's face, he probably would've done it too. He shrank back into the porch and slipped back inside, while outside, Emi was staring at Maou quite intently.

"What the hell is going on with you," Emi hissed, "I swear you're freaking bipolar or something."

Within moments, however, Maou had fixed his smile onto his face, feeling as if his plan to save the demons of Ente Isla was falling further and further out of reach with every wrong move he had made in front of Emi. But even as he grinned, tears ran from the corners of his eyes and his entire being ached to take Emi into his arms.

"I'm fine," Maou said, wiping away the tears, "don't worry about me, you should go inside and eat your breakfast before it gets cold…"

"I'm not leaving," Emi said, "Maou, I think I know what's going on…"

Maou felt his stomach drop and his world did another flip as he turned to stare at Emi with wide, teary, bloodshot eyes. How could she have figured it out? Did he let on too much? He thought he'd done the best he could to avoid giving any signs of being infatuated.

"Maou," Emi said gently, "while you are a demon, the fact remains your human now, too…."

The beast in Maou's chest that sought Emi's approval sat up and begged like a dog, hoping against hope that it was going to hear her say something enduring or perhaps something understanding, anything to get them closer. If Maou played his cards right and tuned his affections to a more platonic relationship, maybe they could work together to bring about the good he had envisioned.

"As such, I think that when you take my emotions, you actually end up being left with the after effects of them," Emi finished in a whisper.

Maou's eyes stared into Emi's, like a sea of green, so bright and vast that Maou could swim forever in the emerald waves of her irises, but her words tore him from his subtle observations of Emi's features. And with a surge, he realized she was right. Still, that didn't change the fact that the Demon King had fallen for the Hero, but now it made sense as to why he was taking it so hard. The fear and paranoia he'd absorbed last night must have been adversely affecting his own emotions and so he'd become ridiculously frightened of his love for her. It felt exhilarating though, admitting it to himself, never in a million years did he think he would fall in love, and with his former nemesis no less.

"I know it's gotta be tough for you," Emi said, "so thanks, and if you don't want to help me with this anymore, I understand…"

"No," Maou said. Letting his heart take over and guide his hand, he seized one of Emi's hands and held it in both of his own.

"No," he repeated, "I'll still help you with your emotions, I made a promise, and if it helps to solidify a future with you and me, I'll do it. It's not just for me anymore, this is for Ente Isla."

Maou knew his use of the words could be interpreted badly, but in a strange way, he found it liberating. In a sense, he'd not only confessed his feeling for Emi, he'd managed to turn it into a cause, an idea of peace and prosperity in another world. Of course, Emi could never be able to know of his true feelings, but if he could channel them into creating a better world for his loyal demon horde, and for the humans of Ente Isla, he'd use them to the fullest, and he would take his love for Emilia the Hero to the grave.

Emi was astonished by the sudden turnaround of events. Still, she knew all too well the toll those feelings could take on a person. All that sadness and fear had almost broken Emi earlier that morning, so for a Demon who did not often deal with severe emotions to suddenly suffer was to be expected. Still, the way he worded the proposition, the way he held her hand, it spoke to Emi on a deep level and she found those butterflies in her stomach alive and well as they danced about. Still, Maou couldn't be held responsible for his actions at this point, nor could he be held responsible for his poor choice of words. He had threatened to bash in his general's skull not even a few minutes ago for simply being near him. But even knowing that Maou was not himself, even knowing that he was dealing with her emotional run-off, she couldn't help but blush at the insinuation of a relationship between them. The visions of the previous night came back to her in force and she saw herself with Maou, and the little girl, the three of them seemingly one happy family. Emi pulled her hand from Maou's and he felt the fire in his soul fade and flicker as she broke the contact. Then, without warning, Emi hugged Maou. She threw her arms about his neck and rested her head against his shoulder.

"Thank you for helping me with all of this," Emi said, "and again, I'm sorry I hit you. I know the feelings are hard to fight, but I'm guessing that if you use up some magic, your body will turn the leftover emotions into magical power. And I've been thinking, if you do keep your word here and we finally return to Ente Isla, I'll help you smooth things over with the Church and the people. I doubt you'll be cleared, but hopefully we can avoid a beheading."

Maou felt his heartstrings pluck themselves to the rhythm of Emi's words. It seemed almost too good to be true, and then the full realization hit him. As a Demon who was essentially immortal until he was killed, he would either die before seeing the world he envisioned created, or he would live long after Emi had passed away, mourning her death like some sort of tragic wraith of love's creation. Emi pulled away from the hug and stood, turning to get back inside the apartment.

"Come on then," she said, "we should go back inside, hope you have a good cover story for what Urushihara saw…"

She went back inside without turning to see if Maou followed while he sat there, enveloped in his thoughts.

'The Great Demon Lord, Satan Jacob, has fallen in love with the Hero Emilia Justina… and she doesn't even know about it,' Maou thought to himself, 'way to screw the pooch on that one.'

Another chapter for all of you lovely Devils... not sure I like how this one turned out. It was filled with pointless drama and tension, and if you took a shot every time you saw the words 'feelings' or 'emotions' you'd die from alcohol poisoning. Something else I'd like to point out, I've looked and I've found the current translations for the light novels, so you guys can stop recommending them at any time! I also wanted to prolong this whole love thing between Maou and Emi, but I feel like I made the scene a little mushy, so people might mistake that for dating or something... no, in my book, Maou is having a tough time trying to deal with his unrequited feelings for Emi, while Emi struggles to work out exactly how she feels about the King of Demons. As of now, however, there is very little animosity between them, only way to go from here is up! If you're like me and you're missing some action, I think I'll have what you need in the next chapter or so, this fic needs a fight scene, with magic... and lightsabers! Nah, just kidding, no lightsabers guys... or maybe...