War drains people. It steals their strength, saps their wills, and if left unchecked, it can steal everything that makes a person human. As such, you'd think demons would be impervious to its effects, like cockroaches are impervious to atomic blasts. That was not the case for Maou, who, after work each day, came home to find the lights off and Urushihara over at Suzuno's.
Perhaps it was better that way, because as soon as Maou walked into his apartment and stared into its dull, greying walls, he found that tears came to him easily. It was not the mark of his weakness, it was a sign of his being strong for far too long, though he found that he could hold the tears at bay now. He'd learned to stop them from leaking, and he could steady his breathing as well, but he found his eyes constantly producing tears. It made him ashamed to no end. A demon, crying? And for what? A dead angel or two? Unrequited love? Unpaid bills?
The answer, though he hated to admit it, was a simple, unequivocal 'yes'. Maou was crying for all those reasons and a thousand more. There was the constant dread that gnawed at his belly worse than any hunger. There was the icy numb feeling that came with his attempt to distance himself from the reality of it all.
He'd never been one for feeling… or perhaps he had. Perhaps his feelings were what drove him to become the King of his people. Maybe it was his emotions that drove him to create a new world, just for the creatures under his banner. Now, however, it seemed his emotions had run wild and rampant. He found himself turned upon by the very things that had once made him strong, and in his sadness, he couldn't help but smile at pointlessness of it all.
None of it really mattered. What was death when you dealt with it on a regular basis? And fear? It was something the Demon King lived with, rather like a silent, foreboding roommate. The only difference between his fear and the Demon General Alciel was that Satan's General would occasionally make tea and say a few words. Fear had nothing to say to the Devil, nor did it have the common decency to put on a pot of tea.
It was Friday, after an extremely long shift when Maou came home to his empty apartment once again. The work week was done. He'd had no contact with any of his comrades all week, save a few jumbled words from Urushihara when the NEET came home at all hours of the morning. Now, however, Urushihara was slumped at the kitchen table. His eyes were open, but barely. He seemed to have nodded off, and his face was pressed against the keyboard of the laptop.
"Wake up," Maou commanded, "you get to make me dinner."
Urushihara jolted upright, wiping drool from the corner of his mouth.
"Wazzat?"
"Food. Make us dinner."
"I'll order some pizza," Urushihara supplied.
He looked at the keyboard and his fingers flew like pale spiders as he typed in the wed address of the local Geronimo's. He looked up and his brow knit. He tried again, staring intently at the screen this time.
"What the hell is-GAH!"
Urushihara withdrew his hands from the laptop, which sparked violently before the screen flashed. He gripped his numb hand, staring indignantly at the computer.
"It shocked me," he complained loudly.
"Can't say I blame it," Maou sighed, shaking his head as he made for the bathroom.
When he finally rememgered, Maou found Urushihara beating the laptop keyboard with the pommel of a long black katana, cursing with each strike.
"I drooled on the keyboard and now it won't work!"
"I'm not buying a new computer," Maou griped, "I can't afford a new one right now."
"You don't have to. I just need a mouse and a keyboard to plug into the laptop. I think."
Maou's eye twitched. He noted that the apartment was exactly the same as it had been when he'd left. It seemed Urushihara had not seen his list of chores that needed taking care of. Either that, or he'd simply elected not to do them.
"Have you done anything today," Maou asked.
"Are you kidding me? I've been busy all day! I only just got back from Suzuno's!"
"You're kidding! What the hell are you two doing over there?! I was gone for almost sixteen hours! Nothing could possibly take that long," Maou shouted.
"We-just-shut up, man! It's none of your business!"
Urushihara's face flushed with color. For the first time in living memory, Maou had managed to get his most lazy General's undivided attention. But how had he done it? Lucifer was sweating nervously. He wouldn't meet his leigelord's eye, and he looked petrified, as though at risk of being discovered for whatever reason.
"What…exactly… are you doing over at Suzuno's," Maou asked again, leaning down over the kitchen table and peering at Urushihara with glowing scarlet eyes.
"I-we-I don't think-"
"That much is apparent," Maou whispered, "because any rational being would know better than to try and lie to the Devil."
The violet eyes and the red eyes met for a moment. A thump was heard from the room next door, and in a moment of weakness, Urushihara broke eye contact.
"Oh, what am I thinking," Maou grinned, "I'll just go ask Suzuno about it!"
"Wha-NO! Don't go over there! She'll kill me!"
"Then tell me what you two were doing all day!"
"I can't," Urushihara cried, looking pained by his constrictions.
Maou tutted and said with a disturbing smile,"Such a shame. I'll miss you when you're gone, but you know what they say: 'the truth will out.'"
Urushihara followed Maou out of room 202 and down the hall to 201, wherein Suzuno lived. The entire while, the fallen angel begged Maou not to bother the Inquisitor.
"She's-she won't be happy," he muttered, dragging at Maou's shirt as the Devil pulled them both along the corridor.
"That's alright," Maou said, wondering why Urushihara was trying so hard to stop him from seeing Suzuno.
Maou managed to get them both to the door of Suzuno's apartment, and he was quickly set upon by Urushihara, who did his best to restrain the Devil and prevent him from knocking. Lucifer threw his arms beneath Maou's and then locked his hands behind Maou's head, instigating a rather impromptu full nelson. The two of them stumbled backward, away from the door.
In the end it was futile.
Maou simply vanished and reappeared outside of Urushihara's reach in a wisp of black vapor, and before the fallen angel could stop him, he had knocked on the door.
All movement inside the apartment ceased, and quick, quiet steps approached the door, followed by one of the strangest sounds Maou had ever heard.
"Morningstar, is that you," Suzuno crooned quietly, opening her front door, "has the Devil finally gone…too…bed…"
Suzuno's froze as she found herself face to face with the Devil. She was wearing her seduction kimono once more, and Maou was rather off-put by its revealing nature. He clapped his hands to his eyes, followed quickly by Urushihara, who threw himself over Maou's shoulders to cover the Demon King's eyes with his own hands as well. Suzuno's ire grew like a brewing storm.
"...Demon King… how much did you see," Suzuno asked quietly, her hand already inching towards her hair clip.
"I-I saw…"
Maou heard a muttering in his ear.
"Lie," Urushihara hissed.
Maou could do no such thing, however.
"I saw everything!"
Suzuno shook her head, her face cloaked in darkness as she muttered, "It seems Heaven's Will had one thing right… Satan Jacob must die!"
Maou pulled at Urushihara's hands, but it was far too late. By the time he'd pried them away from his eyes, the blunt end of Suzuno's hammer was looming over him like a black cloud. Maou uttered a quiet apology in the moment before the hammer struck, and then-
Thud, the Demon King hit the floor.
"That should handle him… though it won't erase him memories," Suzuno said.
Urushihara cowered before Suzuno, whose hammer was still out, and clenched tightly in her hands. Her knuckles shone white with the intensity of her grip, and her face was still shrouded and unreadable.
"Uh-well, I'm just gonna…go back to my closet," Urushihara mumbled.
Before he could leave, Suzuno had appeared over him, looking murderous, her hammer raised.
"You're not going anywhere, Morningstar."
The last thing Urushihara saw was an evil glint in the Inquisitor's eye, and the large, broad head of her hammer, bearing down on him faster than a bullet.
When Urushihara woke, he realized he had a headache. The next thing he surmised was that very little time had passed since Suzuno had knocked him unconscious-a few minutes at most, but it was enough for her to tie him to a chair.
He was in her apartment. Suzuno was nowhere to be seen, but the smell of delicious food wafted through the air. He was sitting back to back with someone else who was also bound to a chair. Urushihara craned his neck to find that it was Maou. He was still out cold, though someone had placed a cold compress to his swollen brow.
The lamp that Suzuno had kept at her bedside was placed on the table right next to Urushihara, and was shining right into his eyes, as if he were being interrogated. The illusion was ruined by his ability to see his surroundings, his familiarity with Suzuno's apartment, and the wonderful scent of her cooking.
"I send you back just in time to meet the Devil. I come up with a brilliant cover story for our quality time… and still you can't manage to keep him off our trail," snipped a bitter voice.
Suzuno slid the dressing screen out of her way and stepped into the main body of the room. She had taken it from around her bed and placed it between the living area and the kitchen. Whether or not it was for dramatic effect puzzled Urushihara for a moment before the cold stare of the Inquisitor stifled his smirk.
"Your brilliant cover story? You mean that wishy-washy crap about me and you plotting to usurp his throne," Urushihara asked, rolling his eyes.
"It's easier to believe than what we actually were doing in here," Suzuno waved her ladle threateningly at Urushihara.
For some reason, she still hadn't changed out of her seduction kimono. Urushihara didn't particularly mind. Maou, on the other hand….
"Oh Holy Hell! Suzuno, would you put some clothes on? You're so pale I thought I was looking at a ghost for a second," the Devil jibed. The smack of a ladle striking flesh echoed off the walls. Urushihara turned in time to see Maou lick the soup from the side of his face. The cold compress on his head fell to the floor.
"This is actually pretty good," Maou said quietly, smacking his lips, "it's almost as delectable as the two of you getting all freaky when I'm at work."
Judging from damning silence that permeated Suzuno's apartment, Maou figured he'd hit the nail on the head. He struggled against his bonds for a moment before frowning at the Inquisitor.
"Why did you tie me up," he asked.
"Because I-that is-we can't afford to have this get out. Emilia… Ashiya… Chiho… none of them would understand," Suzuno shook her head.
"None of them would understand? Please! Chiho's had a crush on me for ages! Ashiya has a thing with Rika, and Emi… well, actually, yeah, you should probably keep it from Emi," Maou decided. As he spoke, he used his magic to burn away the ropes binding him before standing and stretching leisurely. Suzuno already had her hammer back out and was swinging it at Maou, but he raised a hand and caught it, smirking as Suzuno's brow perspired.
"Relax. I'm not gonna tell anyone. It's doesn't make much difference to me, anyway, and you two are no good to me dead, which is what you'll be if Emi gets wind of this. Maybe you should just try not to be so careless from now on."
Maou stepped out from under Suzuno's hammer before letting his arm fall, and he quickly pushed past her in his bid for freedom. He hadn't bathed, and the bathhouses would be closing soon.
"Oh, and for what it's worth, you two are a cute couple," Maou added, closing the door behind him with a snap.
For some reason, Suzuno felt even less sure about her romance with Urushihara than she had before. She was so entrenched in her own thoughts that Urushihara had to clear his throat to get her attention.
"I'm still tied up," he reminded her.
Suzuno stared, her face growing redder and her smile growing more and more depraved as Urushihara prayed to whatever god might swoop down and save him from her insatiable needs.
"Good, you can stay that way for a little while longer," Suzuno said sweetly putting away her hammer, but leaving her hair down all the same.
The next morning dawned cold and bright over Tokyo, and the clean, crisp scent of winter was apparent. The small lawn outside the Villa Rosa was covered in a layer of frost, as were the building's windows. Maou had appealed to the landlady for a way to keep warm in a carefully drafted letter enclosed with his last rent payment, and as a result, all apartments had been supplied with expensive space heaters.
Maou was grateful for the day off, as he didn't want to have to start bundling up for his bike rides into work. He hadn't even taken the stored winter clothes in the closet to get washed yet. Urushihara was nowhere to be seen, and Maou could only assume he had died after last night's misadventure. Either that, or he had simply stayed at Suzuno's, but Maou didn't see Urushihara escaping her clutches with his life. Nonetheless, Maou needed the fallen angel's help to clean up the apartment in preparation for the get together he was hosting later.
Going over to Suzuno's door in nothing but his t-shirt and underwear was a bad idea, and the floors were cold and hard under his feet, but he knocked hurriedly, figuring someone would answer. No one did.
He knocked again, louder this time, but again, nothing.
Maou froze. A chill that had nothing to do with the weather gripped him. Flashes of dark images danced behind his eyes.
A blood splattered armchair framed against a television. A stark white figure taking rattling breaths as blood gushed from his mouth….
Maou put a hand to the door knob and found it unlocked. All at once, he felt as though his worst fears were realized. A good killer never made their presence known, and a really good killer always closed the door behind themselves.
'Don't think like that,' Maou thought, 'they're fine… they're fine. They're both alive… you're the one being targeted…'
He crept across Suzuno's kitchen and dining area, though for all his fears, he might've been creeping through Raphael's apartment all over again. He headed for the bed, which was once more obscured by the dressing blind.
Maou thought he heard breathing. He held his own breath as he laced his fingers around the blind and slowly pushed it aside.
No blood. No gore or carnage. Instead, Maou was met with a scene that he'd never have expected. Urushihara was laying on the bed, facing the door. He wore dark rings around his eyes, and his hair was matted and stuck up funny. He only wore his shorts, and he was curled up into a sort of fetal position. His face looked troubled, as though he were being plagued by terrible dreams. Suzuno lay behind him, her arms wrapped tightly about her Morningstar as she snuggled as close as she could to the fallen angel.
In that instant, Maou didn't see an Inquisitor and a Demon General. He saw two people who'd had long, sad lives, and who'd finally found comfort in each other. He saw two people who, when the world came crashing down, would lean on each other for support and build each other up, no matter what.
The Devil was more than just speechless. He was jealous. Maou almost considered telling Emi about the two of them, just so that the painful knot in his gut would be placated, but he resisted the urge.
It wasn't their fault that the only person the Devil had ever fallen for happened to be his arch nemesis. It also wasn't their fault that Emi didn't feel the same way about him.
Maou put everything back, slipped back out of the apartment, and closed the door with barely a creak before sneaking back into his own apartment. He sat right in front of the space heater, staring blankly at the wall, but for some reason, the heater didn't seem to want to warm the cockles of the Devil's heart.
Maou made breakfast and tea, but neither the warm food or hot beverage seemed to erase the chill from his person. Why did seeing everyone so happy and together make him so angry?
Maou knew why. It was because he'd given everything to become King. He figured that once Ente Isla was under his control, he might have time to search for a consort, if he so felt the need for one. But Ente Isla never bowed to him, and those four hundred years of work had been scrapped in his final battle with the Hero.
He'd sacrificed everything, including his love life, in order to bring the Demons into the future. Now, it seemed, fate mocked him. It dangled what he wanted before him, like a mouse before a python, but he would never partake. He couldn't, what with his obligations. Even without them, the Hero's own feelings were a minefield, just waiting to snap him up and destroy him. Her father was alive, but as the Hero, she bore the weight of the entire human populace on her shoulders. And that included their pain, and their desire for revenge.
'I guess the crown weighs heavy on both sides,' Maou said mentally, shaking his head.
He took a sip of his now luke-warm tea and looked around. It was still pretty early in the day, and the sun was bright and blinding as it shone through the window. Slowly, the frost began to melt away, and Maou felt the day grow warmer.
Soon, everyone would gather to discuss their respective weeks. They would come to his apartment, tired and brow-beaten, and they would try and fail to understand what was going on. They would suggest half-assed strategies and counter measures, and do their best to try and savor each other's company before-
A light knock on his door interrupted the stream of pessimistic thoughts in Maou's head.
"Maou?"
From outside the door, the Devil heard her: the Hero. Somehow, he'd been so entombed in his own head he hadn't noticed her presence, which positively glowed with celestial force.
"Door's open, Emi," he called, adjusting his expression to a more pleasant one.
She came in, and Maou felt his heart skip a beat. Emi was dressed casually in jeans and a yellow blouse. She also wore a denim coat to ward off the cold, a Docodemo beanie hat, and a pair of large, clunky winter boots.
Maou was more preoccupied with her red nose and cheeks, and her bright eyes and her smile. Even the messy bun she'd hidden under her beanie seemed beautiful.
PANG.
Like nails on a chalkboard within his heart, Maou felt his entire being throb with painful loneliness as he looked upon the Hero's splendor. She smiled at Maou, and he returned it numbly, wondering how he'd fallen for her all over again. Everything, from her scent to the way she spoke seemed to invigorate Maou's sadness.
"You ok, Maou? You look a little pale."
"Tired," Maou shrugged, "I just woke up."
"Where's the NEET?"
"Sleeping," Maou replied, omitting the fact that Urushihara was currently snuggling up with Suzuno.
PANG.
The sound of a thousand piano notes being played at once shot through him. There it was again, with no warning of any kind: he was alone. Dreadfully alone, and though the Hero wasn't even ten feet away, she might as well have been on another planet all together.
Emi carefully unlaced her boots, set them off to the side like any decent houseguest, and came over to the table. With no regard for manners, she quickly took the remainders of Maou's breakfast and began to help herself. She drank from his tea cup, ignoring the fact that the Devil's lips had already touched it. Apparently, the Hero was hungry, for Maou's plate had been cleaned in a matter of minutes.
"Uh… you want more?" Maou asked, "I have more eggs, you know."
"Yes please," Emi said, holding out her plate for Maou to take.
Satan took her plate and set to work on making new eggs and reheating the tea. He'd heard about Emi's job loss through the grapevine, but he hadn't seen her since last weekend. She looked…happy?
"I woke up pretty early, and I figured I wouldn't get back to sleep so I figured I'd just come by and wait for everyone else to get here," Emi explained.
Maou couldn't blame her. If what he'd heard was true, then Emi's mother and father, an archangel and a wheat farmer, respectively, would be arriving with some sort of weapon some time that day. If Maou had been about to meet his parents… well, sleep wouldn't come easily to him, either.
"How have you been," Maou asked casually, "I mean, since you quit your job?"
"Hmm." Emi considered the question carefully, mulling it over as Maou handed her a fresh cup of tea. For a tense moment, their fingers interlocked around the cup. Emi nearly forgot the question.
"I-erm-I have a lot more free time, now," she said lamely.
"No need to rub it in," Maou said, "I only got three hours of sleep last night."
"I got a solid sixteen," Emi muttered.
Maou poured a cup of tea for himself and drank it as he waited for Emi's second breakfast to cook. He couldn't help but wonder if Emi was hungry because she had no money for food. The thought made him uncomfortable.
"Well, what I meant to ask was how are… how are you financially?" Maou probed.
The topic of money was a bit of a challenge for Maou. He'd never had much of it, and he hated feeling inept because of his limited earning potential. Still, he wouldn't have traded his job for the world…actually, on second thought, the world would be an excellent trade, though he would always hold a special place in his heart for MgRonalds if such a deal were factual.
"I'm…uh…"
A shadow crossed Emi's face. It seemed that money was a touchy subject for the Hero, as well.
"I'm coping," she said finally, regaining her jovialness.
Maou didn't believe it for a second. In that moment that Emi's face had given way, her real feelings had shone through. She was scared, tired, and probably just as stressed as Maou had been. Perhaps even more so, considering she had no income at all.
"I wouldn't have any problem repaying the favor, Emi," Maou said lamely, setting her breakfast down in front of her, "You know, if it came to that."
"I don't think I'll get evicted," Emi said. Something in her voice told Maou she had doubts.
"Still, if things go bad, you're more than welcome to stay here. And I know it may not seem like the most ideal gig but Kisaki would probably let you skip right to being a full timer if I put in a good word for you."
"Me, a MgRonalds employee?" Emi asked, sounding amused.
Emi hadn't intended for her words to be so slanderous, but the thought of flipping burgers and wearing a cheesy smile all day just struck her as unappealing. Maou flushed, and covered his hurt feelings by taking a sip of scalding hot tea, which burnt his tongue.
"I know-" he coughed before thumping his chest and starting again.
"I know it doesn't sound like a good job, but I mean, if things don't work out… I'm sure they will, but if they don't… at the very least, you'll have a warm place to stay, and an income all your own until you can find another place and another job."
"That's awfully considerate for a Demon King to say."
Maou had never felt less royal. His human emotions were eating him alive, but Emi's smile, sly and sarcastic as it was, made Maou feel a little better.
"It's getting cold out," Maou said quickly, "and you let me live with you when I was down and out. I'm just returning the favor."
Emi took a sip of her tea, but Maou could see her blushing the color of her hair behind her cup.
Morning quickly gave way to afternoon. Slowly, Maou's apartment began to fill up, making him yearn for those sunny morning hours when it was just him and Emi. First came Ashiya and Rika, both of whom were looking well. Rika positively glowed in the brightness of the day. Next came Chiho, who had been preoccupied with an archery competition all morning.
Sometime after waking up, Urushihara had teleported from Suzuno's room to the closet, and he crawled out of his hidey hole to sip on some tea, as the assembled crowd had made sleep impossible. Last to arrive was Suzuno, who was in a better mood that anyone had ever seen her in. She smiled quite brightly upon entry, carrying a platter of snacks, sweets and treats.
Suzuno's eyes met Satan's, and in the literal blink of an eye, their arrangement seemed to pass between them. Maou's silence was assured, but Suzuno would owe the Devil a favor for the foreseeable future. With an imperceptible nod, Suzuno tore her eyes away from Maou and set the platter on the table for everyone to enjoy.
There were sliced apples, sweet rice balls, honeydew, and peanut butter dip. Everyone sat and quietly munched on something as they waited for someone to speak. As soon as they'd all gathered, things turned somber and quiet. The laughter was gone from their eyes, and no one smiled. Out in the world, it was required of them. They could never let anyone know of their struggles, so false smiles had become a necessity. In Maou's apartment however, it was as silent as the grave, and twice as somber.
This was a war meeting.
"M'lord, what happened to all the furniture you said you would buy?"
Check that, it was a war meeting… right up until Ashiya had asked that rather insensitive question.
"It hasn't been delivered yet," Maou snipped.
"And is that a new space heater? My lord, creature comforts are fine and well, but our guests are sitting on the floor," Ashiya griped.
"That heater was purchased by the landlady, whom I reminded about winter. And as for my guests, you are one of them until such a time as you decide to return here and take up your duties as the househusband," Maou said flatly.
"Of course, King Satan," Ashiya mumbled, bowing his head.
Before they could stop it, silence had fallen once again. No one seemed to have the courage to speak. What would they say? How would they begin the meeting? Maou was about to say something when he heard voices and quiet footsteps coming up the stairs.
"This is the Devil's Castle? The Villa Rosa?"
"Yes, dear."
"Hmm. I thought it would be a bit bigger."
The sound of the outside door opening was heard. Emi turned whiter than snow as she stared at the door.
"This is it, right?"
"What does the name on the door say?"
"Sadao Maou."
"That can't be right. Let's try the next one."
Emi rose, creeping towards the door as she listened to the voices. One was female and oddly familiar, as though remembered through a dream. The other one was deeper, male, and more soft spoken. It reminded the Hero of a small farmhouse, golden wheat fields, long red hair, and the warmest, kindest smile she'd ever known.
It was her father's voice, and it was quickly headed back towards room 202.
"The Devil is not a woman, this must be the right door," the female voice said matter-of-factly.
Two pairs of footsteps came to a stop. There was a brief pause, and Emi, in a state of panic, decided to fling open the door.
In front of her were two people who looked so normal and modern, Emi thought they might've gotten mixed up. The man was tall, and he wore a plain black suit and dress shoes. He had long red hair tied into a ponytail that fell down between his broad shoulders. He wore rectangular spectacles over greenish yellow eyes that seemed to brim with emotion as he stared at Emi. His goatee had been trimmed down a bit to appear more slim and modern.
He had high cheekbones and fair skin, but aside from the strangely stylish clothes, he was most definitely Emi's father.
"Dad," Emi said quietly, hardly daring to believe her eyes.
"Emi, you've grown so much," Nord smiled, "I have someone here who's been waiting to meet you."
The woman on Nord's side stepped forward. She wore a feathery white dress with a heavy fur-lined coat over it. Her hair was silvery white, and her eyes seemed to burn with a hearty scarlet. She seemed ageless, and could've been either twenty or two thousand. Her fair skin was flawless, and she smiled warmly at Emi.
"Emilia, I'm so glad we-"
Before Lailah could so much as greet her daughter, Emi felt something burst within her. Without even thinking, Emi had summoned Better Half and rested its tip against Lailah's collarbone. Nord looked concerned for a moment, but Lailah held out an arm to keep him away.
"Are you going to kill me, Emi?" Lailah wondered.
"No," Emi decided, her breaths shaky as she fought to regain her self-control. Her sword did not move from its position at Lailah's throat, however.
"Such a beautiful sword," Lailah muttered, her eyes flicking from the blade to Emi's face, "I can see it reflects its wielder, being both gorgeous and deadly… but what would you say if I could offer you power?"
"I have power," Emi said flatly.
"Not enough, if you want to protect your friends. You all grow weary, so much so that you and the Devil are now in cahoots, according to my sources," Lailah said innocently.
"Emilia, please, this is neither the time nor place for this," Nord said urgently.
Emi looked at her father, her green eyes wild and angry. How could he side with Emi's absentee mother?! She was about to say as much when Nord laid a gentle hand on Emi's shoulder. It was large and warm, and the way he squeezed her shoulder, so gently and lovingly, made Emi's hatred fall away as quickly as it had manifested.
"Come inside, then," Emi seceded, stepping aside to allow the guests to pass her by, "but remember that my allies are in a far less forgiving mood that I am. And something else you should know: the Devil is the host of this party, but even he won't stop me if I decide I don't like what you have to say."
Emi's hard stare met Lailah's determined gaze. Something passed between them, and after a moment, Lailah nodded and beckoned for Nord to lead the way into the apartment. The angel chanced another glance at her daughter, whose expression was stern and unmoving, and Lailah bowed her head and followed after Nord.
The six tatami apartment was already crowded, so having two adults enter the fray seemed a little ambitious. Everyone sat in a circle around the table, bumping shoulders and looking uncomfortable. Emi, of course, looked the most displeased, as she was sandwiched quite firmly between her parents, both of whom looked out of place in their fine clothes.
"My word, Emi, you have quite a few important friends," Lailah said, sweat beading her brow as she found all eyes on her.
One pair of eyes in particular seemed to focus upon her quite intensely. They were crimson, and belonged to the Devil, who looked at the archangel long after it would've been normally decent.
"Lailah," Maou said slowly.
The name seemed to jar the angel, and she turned to finally meet his gaze, looking somewhat fearful.
"Demon King Satan," Lailah said, bowing slightly to him, "you seem quite well, considering your… well, your human form."
"And you look just the same as ever," Maou mused, leaning forward, "and of course, nothing has changed. You're still the same secretive, flighty archangel you've always been."
Lailah gave a strangled smile, doing her best to ignore the stares.
"Hold on a minute, Maou, how do you know my mother," Emi asked, leaning forward so that she could see the Devil.
"She was the angel that rescued me," Maou muttered, "she taught me about humans and language and is the one who piqued my interest in Ente Isla."
Lailah closed her eyes, partly because she was embarrassed at being thrust into the spotlight again, and partially because she knew that Emi was watching her, probably with some horrified expression.
"You started all this," Emi asked, "you saved the Demon King? You caused all this… this fighting?"
"It was inevitable," Lailah said, "blood needed to be shed in order to usher in change. The Church and the angels they served were in disarray due to Satan's rise to power. Had I not acted, Ente Isla would be in even worse shape, with the angels lording over the humans like gods."
"That's not good enough for me-not by a longshot," Emi snarled, "I lost my childhood! I thought my father was dead! People from all over died during the war!"
"But that doesn't stop you from fighting side by side with the very person who ordered their deaths," Lailah said sharply.
Emi was stunned for a moment, and before she could say anything else, Nord cut in.
"Emilia, please, calm down," he said quietly, "we are here to help you. You and your friends are just one front in a war that has been raging in the shadows for millennia."
Nords words seemed to make everyone extraordinarily still and silent. They knew all about war, they had all fought in many battles… but how could it be that they were part of a bigger picture when they hadn't even seen Ente Isla in years? How could they have been manipulated, when all they knew was uncertainty?
"Milennia, huh?" Maou asked, "It sounds like it had something to do with my namesake, the original Demon Lord Satan…"
"Indeed is does," Lailah said, happy that her words had gained interest.
"In that case, count us out," Maou decided, standing up and heading for the refrigerator.
"But-uuuuh-what?"
"You heard me," Maou said, pulling out a can of soda, "hit the road, Lailah, and don't let the door hit you on your way out."
All at once, the extent of everyone's fury was focused on Lailah and Nord. Death and sadness were etched onto each of their faces. Lailah and Nord looked around seeing nothing but scowls and hardened expressions.
"You must help us," Nord insisted, "there are things at stake that involve all of you!"
"Not my problem," Maou sighed.
"It is your problem, Great Demon King Satan," Lailah said, "for if you do not help us… Ente Isla is doomed to repeat the Calamity of your world."
Maou froze with the can of soda inches away from his mouth. His eyes were wide, and he seemed incapable of intelligent thought for a moment. He set down the soda and looked Lailah in the eye before he said, "Say that again. Look me in the eye and tell me exactly what you just said."
Lailah met his crimson gaze with her scarlet. She could practically feel the Devil's mental probe within her mind as he listened for the truth in her statement.
"Ente Isla… is soon to follow the way of the Demon World," Lailah said quietly.
"What does she mean, Maou," Emi asked.
"She's talking about the real reason Ente Isla was invaded," Ashiya answered.
"The real reason we left the Demon World… was because we lost most of our magic," Maou muttered, clearly still petrified by the implication. "Demons need negativity to use magic. When I unified the tribes into a Kingdom, I removed anyone who opposed me. With no negativity and no wars, the Demon World was quickly drained of its power. I came to Ente Isla to make a better life for my subjects, one where we could rule over humans, and utilize their despair and hatred. It was a foolproof plan for nigh unlimited magical power."
The way he said it, as though he himself could barely believe what he'd done, made little difference to Emi, whom had already been boiling with rage from the moment her mother stepped into the room.
"That still doesn't tell us why this is our problem," Urushihara grumbled, squished as he was between Suzuno and Ashiya.
"Ente Isla and Heaven have individual sources of magic… something interwoven into the very fabric of our worlds," Lailah explained, "but now Heaven suffers from a severe lack of magic. If the angels are allowed to continue abusing its power, then their world could very well cease to exist."
"So what's the source?" Rika wondered.
"A tree," Nord whispered.
"The Tree of Life," Lailah said.
Most everyone looked a little lost for words. A tree was the source of magic power? How the hell did that work?
"Each world his its own Tree of Life, save the Demon World. The angels residing in Heaven have almost drained their Tree of Life, and have subjugated the Fruit.
"Fruit? Well, I am feeling a little hungry," Urushihara admitted.
"Have you been following this at all?" Chiho asked.
"Not really. It's old news for me."
"Right. Archangel. Duh."
"Anyway, someone shake me if there's food, I'm gonna doze," Urushihara muttered before leaning backward and falling onto the floor.
"Good riddance," Ashiya grumbled, "now there's a bit more room."
"So what happens if their Tree of Life gets destroyed," Maou asked, "wouldn't that destroy them, or render them unable to use magic?"
"Alas, it would not," Lailah said, "this has happened before, as well. There have been other Calamities, long since forgotten, in which the angels have simply gone from world to world, draining magic as they go. It seems each Calamity is followed by just enough time for everyone who remembers to either forget or die off. Then the process begins anew. I belong to an order, established just after the first Calamity. Our mission… is to destroy Heaven utterly. It must be obliterated, and its agents must be cast down from Grace… only then will the cycle be broken."
"So then why is my dad here," Emi asked, "he's a wheat farmer, not some immortal angel!"
"I have been helping your mother," Nord said, "I have been working on multiple fronts to rally people in opposition of Heaven's might."
"Your father isn't an immortal angel," Laulah agreed, smiling at the man, "but he has more heart and soul than anyone else. He truly cares for what's right."
"Ok, back up," Maou said, noting how Emi's face went from pink to red in a matter of moments, "this Tree of Life… you say they'll drain it dry… so the angels are just magical mosquitoes?"
"That's an apt way to put it, sire," Ashiya said.
"Thanks, I try to be concise."
"But what does any of this have to do with us," Suzuno asked.
Everyone turned to look at her, as it was the first time she'd spoken in a while. Most assumed she was simply listening.
"If the angels continue, they will take Ente Isla, and sap the magic from its Tree of Life as they dominate the world," Lailah said simply.
"Humans will be their playthings, disposable and weak. They may even choose to simply wipe us out to conserve magic for themselves," Nord added.
"And after Ente Isla has been drained?" Chiho asked.
Nord and Lailah glanced at each other.
"After that… they may very well come here. It wouldn't be for some time, millennia, even, but sooner or later, they will run out, and move onto the next world."
"Until all life had been consequently eradicated, and all accessible worlds are left dead and barren," Maou surmised, scratching his chin thoughtfully.
"Yes, that's right."
Silence fell as everyone absorbed the new information. Only Urushihara, who snoozed quietly on the floor, just out of sight, didn't seem to disturbed by the revelation.
"So then, how do we beat Heaven?" Maou asked.
It was a question he never thought he'd have to ask. He'd planned to take over Ente Isla and simply allow the angels to exist. War was necessary for his people to have magic… now, however, he was contemplating the best way to defeat a race of powerful immortals on a planet that he probably didn't have enough magic to get too, let alone take on its inhabitants in battle.
"The Sephiroth," Lailah uttered, "the Fruit of the Tree of Life."
Lucifer poked his head up, grumbling with annoyance. "Seriously? If you guys are gonna keep talking about food, I'm going to my closet."
"The Sephiroth are powerful," Nord said, "they are the physical embodiments of everything in each world."
"Those have to be some pretty big fruit," Chiho noted.
"They are," Lailah muttered, "I tried to steal one, centuries ago, but it was quite large and cumbersome, so I broke it and scattered the fragments."
"Fragments?"
"Yes, I shattered Yesod into fragments. Gabriel had been hounding me for ages, and now he's reclaimed all but three of them," Lailah said proudly, "all of which are currently in this very room."
"This is the weapon we meant to give you," Nord said.
Rika, Chiho, Ashiya, Maou, and Emi all glanced about, as though expecting to find broken bits of fruit lying around.
"Hold on a sec. Yesod? Why is that familiar," Maou wondered.
"It's what Bernael was after," Emi recalled, "he was after Yesod fragments."
"One fragment was found by the Church, which they turned into a Holy Sword. This is the sword that you now carry," Lailah said to Emi.
Emi looked down. Without even realizing it, she had brought out the sword. It was beautiful, of course, but after using it so often, she found that its glamour and beauty were somewhat lost on her. The violet jewel set on the guard glowed, and a shimmer ran up the blade.
"So you brought another Holy Sword?" Maou asked.
"No, King Satan. The piece of Yesod we brought for you today is not a holy sword. This is the one I gave to you centuries ago, when I told you to learn all you could of the humans."
Maou's eyes went blank for a moment. Within his mind, he could barely make out the blurriness of his recovery. All he remembered was the sense of wonder and curiosity that filled him when he heard the stories Lailah had told him, as if there was so much more to the world than violence and death.
Then he remembered it, clear as day. He'd woken up to find Lailah had gone, leaving behind only a note that dubbed him 'Great Demon King Satan', and a glowing purple crystal that puzzled him for years until he'd almost forgotten it.
"So that crystal," Maou said carefully, "that was a piece of the Sephiroth? That was a fragment of one of the Fruit?"
"Precisely."
"So then it should be where I left it: planted in the garden of my castle on the central continent," Maou realized, clapping a hand to his head.
Lailah began to rummage about her person before pulling out a fashionable handbag. She opened it, and produced an apple that was solid gold. As soon as it was out of the confines of the bag, the apple grew to about the size of a large pumpkin.
"Wha-what's that," Maou asked, "is that the Fruit or the crystal or what? I'm so lost right now."
"The Fruit, the crystal, the Sephiroth, they are all labels for the same thing… this," Lailah put the apple down on the table, watching it expectantly.
"How is that a weapon," Ashiya asked blankly, staring at the large golden apple with lackluster enthusiasm.
Ashiya's words seemed to cross everyone else's minds as well, because everyone looked the golden apple over closely. It could be used to bludgeon someone into submission, sure, but it was so large and unwieldy, chances were good your enemy would end up killing you if you tried.
"Alas-Ramus," Lailah whispered, rubbing the apple gently, "it's time to wake up, darling. Your papa is waiting to meet you!"
At first, nothing happened. Just when it seemed like nothing ever would, the apple moved slightly, rocking back and forth on the table. There were sounds of struggle, and slowly, cracks began to appear on the apple's surface, as though it were an egg and something were being born from it.
Maou looked to Lailah and saw her watching him with a mixture of pity and gladness, as though a huge weight had just been lifted from her shoulders and thrust onto his. This made Maou uneasy, to say the least of it.
The apple began to stir more vigorously, until it landed upon its side and rolled across the table, stopping just short of the edges. Everyone gathered about the table took turns leaning away from it and looking terrified.
'What sort of creature could this apple contain,' Emi wondered, 'a monster, to help us against Heaven? Maybe a giant of some kind?'
That was when two small, pudgy legs and arms sprouted from the apple. With ease, the apple did a kick-up, and was quickly on its feet. It scrambled to and fro before zeroing in on Emi, who instinctively raised her sword to parry an attack.
The apple charged.
As it came, it began to lose more and more of its apple shell. Long whiteish-silver hair was revealed, with a single streak of purple. Large violet eyes glowed from within the apple-egg's shadow. Emi slowly lowered Better Half, and before she knew it, she had a small child cradled to her chest.
"Mama," the child cried happily.
"Say what, now?" Emi asked, holding the ecstatic child away from her.
"Mama! Mama!"
"I'm not your mama!"
"Mama!"
"But-I-I'm not your mama! Really!"
The child born form the apple seemed to only be a toddler, though to place her actual age would've been impossible. Still, she seemed to speak Japanese quite easily, and fluently, given her apparent age.
Emi quickly set the girl down and backed away from her slowly. Alas-Ramus's eyes seemed to pierce Emi like x-rays, viewing something within Emi that no one else could see.
"Alas-Ramus," Lailah said, "why don't you sit with your papa?"
The newborn Sephirah's eyes traveled around the room, taking in all the new sights and splendors. Finally, her sight rested upon none other that the Demon King, who smiled lamely, now that he finally understand Lailah's expression.
"Papa," Alas-Ramus cried, shooting under the table faster than the eye could follow and appearing in Maou's lap.
Everyone was floored, save Lailah and Nord, both of whom looked a little embarrassed as they avoided eye contact with both Emi and Maou.
"M-M-Maou," asked the tiniest of voices.
It was Chiho, who looked about ready to blow a gasket. Her face was beet red, and her forehead popped with veins as she took one heavy breath after the other.
"Maou… did that child just say that… you're the papa… and Emi is the… momma?"
Maou blanched. Sure, he'd fantasized about having a family with the Hero. He'd even dreamt of it, but to actually have a child… he'd never seriously considered it.
"I-I guess… that's what she says-but I-Chiho, I swear, nothing-I mean-Emi and I didn't-"
"Wait, you two haven't bumped uglies," Urushihara asked, sliding the closet open just enough to peak out of, "there's a shocker."
Without warning, Emi dug around in her purse until she found the first throwable, expendable item she had, which happened to be an empty tube of lipstick. She charged it with celestial force and chucked it as hard as she could at Urushihara, who yelped in pain and promptly closed the closet door.
"That nearly got me in the eye," called his muffled voice.
Emi turned back to the table, trying and failing to look calm. She suddenly found herself face to face with Alas-Ramus, who was standing on the table. The little girl smiled and held out her arms towards Emi.
"Pick me up, mama!"
Emi carefully inched forward and grabbed her, trying to ignore the flabbergasted looks all around her. Alas Ramus smiled even wider, and for a moment Emi remembered a nightmare she'd had not long ago, wherein the Demon King and she had a life and a family in Ente Isla. This was the same child from her dreams, she was sure of it. Emi looked to Maou, who met her gaze, and suddenly they were both overtaken by a severe case of the jitters. They broke eye contact, and Emi pulled Alas-Ramus into her lap.
"So, this is the weapon?" Suzuno asked.
"Um, Suzuno, dear? Don't you think there are some bigger questions that need answering right about now," Rika asked. Her voice was high and squeaky, and her eyes seemed to flicker back and forth between the newly crowned parents with the speed of light.
"You mean as to whether or not the Hero and the Devil had intercourse? Not only is the notion laughable, it's also irrelevant," Suzuno reasoned, "especially if this child is who Lailah claims she is."
"All that I have told you is true," Lailah said in Ente Islan.
That sentence left very little doubt of the situation, which had changed drastically in a matter of minutes. The fate of all worlds was at risk, the angels were nigh unstoppable, and all hope seemed lost. That was the day that the Devil and the Hero unwittingly became parents to a weapon of unimaginable power, and the day that Ente Isla's fate changed, for better, or for worse.
'No pressure,' Maou and Emi thought in unison.
It's three in the morning, but I finally managed to finish editing this. I was toying with the idea of putting this fic on hiatus while I went back and fact checked all the names and beings and stuff. Like, the Sephiroth... I'm pretty sure that's what they're called, but I also think it's a villain from Final Fantasy, so I get a little confused. I was going to double check it so I didn't get a review saying "that's wrong, you're wrong" but you know what? This is fanfiction. I'll just wing it. That's the beauty of artistic license, I can type 'rocks fall, everyone dies' and unless you want to write a rebuttal, or make your own fanfiction, there's little enough you can do to stop me. Moving right along, we have a lot to take in this chapter. The plot thickens like a fine gravy, and things are getting heavy. Like, seriously heavy. On another note, I have a plot (if it can be called such) laid out for this fic. We're hurtling headlong towards the end, but I've still got quite a bit of writing to do before it comes.
Alas-Ramus is so friggin cute tho, guys. If I had a daughter, I'd want her to be like Alas-Ramus: adorable, smart, and easily able to defeat Archangels in combat. Speaking of angels, I've been doing lots of research, and I'll be adding a few OCs before the end, embellishing a few characters already mentioned in the light novels, and (hopefully) fucking up your perception of this entire series. That's what all the best fanfics do, they make you question whether or not what actually happened is canon. Or, at least, that's how I determine if a fic is good or not.
But I'm rambling. I need to eat something. This is where shit starts to get serious, but don't worry, there'll be some more MaouxEmi before the end.
Ciao
MUSIC!
Maria Mena-It Took Me By Surprise
Voltaire-The Night (I've been watching Daria Cohen's animations... they are amazing and I love them LOOK THEM UP!)
Said the Sky&Kewski-All I Got
Isaac Lee-Money
Panic! At the Disco-Far Too Young To Die (the crown weighs heavy on either side)
I've also been listening to musical numbers from Dear Evan Hansen and Heathers. They are now stuck in my head and I may be in need of help because I've haven't been addicted to live theater since A Very Potter Musical.
Just look up Sincerely Me Animatics from DEH, it's... well, it's hilarious, and if that doesn't pull you in, I don't know what will.