disorder_heaven | Magic Hunt at MFing Aokigahara

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!plots for fun

Magic Hunt at MFing Aokigahara

The fact that Urushihara had a keen eye for patterns and trends was one of his less appreciated skills. As one of the war generals in Demon King Satan's army, it made his division highly feared and nearly unstoppable.

Here, it had gotten him something more along the lines of a snarky comment from Ashiya. "About time," or something like that. Hard to tell. Urushihara hadn't really been listening.

Either way, upon Urushihara's elaboration regarding the Suicide Forest, Ashiya had grown more and more uncertain. Eventually comments about warning signs and body sweeps deteriorated into snide remarks about cell phones failing to work and the pitch blackness that came with noon.

A bowl of miso soup full of something-whatever beta took care of the bitching, but Ashiya managed to come out of the bathroom just long enough to lob a thick volume of Maou's favourite manga at the back of Urushihara's head. So, when Maou returned home from his long, hard day at MgRonald's, it would be to the sight of Urushihara on the ground and Ashiya in the bathroom groaning dramatically.

Just another day at the Devil's Castle.

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Maou touched down in the grass beyond the forest not long after Lucifer. Seeing he had waited for Maou, he held up a hand. Wait, please. He wouldn't hold it against Lucifer if he flew off, but Maou needed to take care of something, first.

The Demon King headed to the signs near the trees, his edges glowing red with magic. They, like all the others, pleaded with people to not kill themselves. A message that must have largely gone unheeded. Satan could not save the lives he had lost, or repair all the damage he had done.

But he could at the very least prevent some. He reached out to the line and began intoning Entean. Every sign in sight shimmered momentarily. Maou's words revealed his intention rather quickly. He was casting a spell similar to the magic he had attached to the Tanabata papers at MgRonald's. If they could be summarized in one word, that one was Gather. This was Please. A mild suggestion. Barely even hypnotism. He only gave the signs a little more of a chance.

"Whew," Maou exhaled, now in his human form. That was one problem down. Only 98 to go. He headed over to the road on which Lucifer had been waiting.

"Hey," he said. "I still owe you a real meal."

"I'm...not really hungry anymore," Urushihara replied, his wings having faded but his tone still very stoic. "To be honest, I'm just tired." And sore. "The sooner we can go home, the better."

He felt better, now that they were out of the suicide forest. Not a lot better, however; his body ached terribly, and he felt as though too heavy a step might cause him to break into pieces. Though he knew better than to blame Maou for what had happened, it was still difficult to look him in the eye.

More bothersome was the fact that all that negativity had stemmed from somewhere. Which meant, deep down... Maybe Maou really did resent Urushihara, perhaps even hate him.

Somehow, that hurt worse than the bones he was still setting. Humans bodies were so weak. He wiped the blood off of his cheeks, finally daring to glance up briefly at Maou. "Shall we?"

"Yeah." Maou slipped his hands in his jeans pockets. He refused to give Urushihara anything less than full eye contact. His expression was thoughtfully mild, but otherwise unreadable.

He was concerned about Urushihara's injuries, but he was leagues more worried of what his friend was thinking. His actions--no, he would call it as it was--beating him into the ground didn't seem to affect the strength of Urushihara's loyalty. But if this created a rift in their friendship, Maou would have to put more of his off-hour time into repairing it than he could afford! Literally!

Maou also really wanted to keep their friendship.

He canted his head down the road before heading onward, not chancing a single glance to the evil behind them. They took a train to Sasazuka in relative silence, Maou remaining overly conscious of the space between them for the entirety of the journey. As he planned to do until Urushihara could look at him without looking like he expected a blow. Or, well, he'd accept it being less often, at least. Baby steps.

Before Maou could accomplish any of that, though, they had to walk back to the apartment. Rather than taking his usual route home, however, Maou led them down a dark alley.

Urushihara kept his head down on the train ride, choosing to stand without complaint by the doors and moving aside to let others pass between each stop. He didn't speak on the journey. As much as he wanted to say it was simply because he was a hermit, the truth was that he really was quite afraid of being recognized as Lucifer; he alone kept his face when he transformed.

He followed Maou obediently, keeping his gaze down to keep himself from attracting any attention to either of them. To Maou, this might have seemed as though he was uneasy, perhaps even afraid. That wasn't the case.

However, when Maou began to lead him into the dark alley that made Urushihara think of the host club ringers around Kabukicho, he hesitated.

"Uh... Dude...?"

Maou smiled down at Urushihara, his teeth glinting hungrily. "Relax. I know where we're goin' this time. We're just . . . makin' a little detour first."

He finished his statement with the air of a yakuza boss, rolling the mystery around with his tongue like he were enjoying a particularly delicious poison. There was a layer of comfort lying beneath his tone, which begged the question: which was the lie?

(The answer: neither.)

It was hard to not be afraid of Maou. He was Satan, after all, and though Lucifer was loyal to him, the situation was what it was. As quick and powerful as Lucifer might have been, Satan was stronger, and faster.

And Urushihara was not Lucifer, so what could he expect from a demon king who was disguised so perfectly at this innocent boy?

"...I'm callin' a taxi," Urushihara drawled lazily, though it was clear he would or could do no such thing.

"You're not callin' a taxi," Maou casually called him out. His hands eased into his pockets as he turned forward, mild and nonthreatening. The end of the alley loomed ahead. Just before Maou turned the corner, he grinned back at Urushihara like he was sharing a daring secret.

"I promised you, didn't I?"

The Demon King then disappeared around the corner. Standing before them in all its meaty glory was the yakiniku place he and Ashiya had visited before. Another meal Urushihara had missed out on, and Maou intended to make it up to him.

It was immediately obvious that Urushihara hadn't been expecting that. What he'd been expecting, he didn't know. But it wasn't that. He stared up at the signage outside of the restaurant, then looked at Maou with wide eyes.

"...What's the catch?"

He was starting to understand why stray dogs tended to be violent around food. After what had happened between them tonight, he thought that he might actually cry if Maou revealed he was only joking.

"No catch. I keep my word, and you held up your end o' the bargain," Maou said, his grin slightly strained from the day's hardships. He raised his brow and shrugged airily. "Plus I know if you made food for you and Ashiya, you're the reason he got sick, which means you haven't eaten an actual meal today. Food was the only reason you even wanted to go on this whole hell trip."

His tone wasn't accusing. Maou was only pointing out the facts as he recognized them.

"You better not be sayin' the food I cooked made him sick. I can cook just fine." It's just that adding Holy Vitamin Beta might have been a little bit mean. "So... You're serious. We're eating out. You and me. For real."

He was delighted, but it didn't show. His face was carefully blank, as always.

Maou rolled his eyes. He knew Urushihara knew that Maou realized Celestial Force was involved, so he didn't push it. Instead, he fixed his friend with an intent stare. "Yes. For real."

He wanted Urushihara to know he wasn't kidding. That he planned this from the beginning. That he's appreciated, despite the shit Maou and everyone else gives him. Despite his words in the forest. He had to know. So Maou did his best to communicate paragraphs of the same with the red glint of his eyes.

A beat later, he shed the serious tone for a smile. Maou moved to familiarly nudge Urushihara, then thought better of it and let his arm fall. He thumbed at the restaurant's entrance. "C'mon, man, let's eat. We can't stand out front all night, it's weird."

"Okay, okay, you got me. This is pretty cool."

It was also unexpected, and a rather delicate situation on top of that. Urushihara followed Maou into the restaurant, leaving it to his senpai to greet the hostess and find a seat.

It was easy to disguise, but Urushihara was actually very nervous in public. When he couldn't summon his wings or make threats, and couldn't be recognized as a force to be reckoned with... That made him uneasy. As a human, he posed little threat. He sat quietly, watching Maou almost as intently as Suzuno tended to watch Emilia when in public.

Maou was grinning all the way to their seats, practically growing with pride. Once they had a table, though, he shifted under Urushihara's gaze, then looked down to the menu. He didn't quite peg Urushihara's nervousness as such, but something did feel off. It set in his chest like a subordinate's expectations. Or maybe, he thought, they just weren't used to eating out together because they never did ever.

Either way, Maou would come at the situation like he did everything: charging forward full-throttle. He looked to Urushihara. "Know what you're gonna get yet?"

The awkwardness was actually a combination of Maou's two best guesses. Urushihara busied himself with the menu, staring for a looooong time before looking up at Maou.

"Ah... No, I guess not. What do you get? Can I just get that?"

He didn't get out enough to know what a lot of these foods were.

...Or what a lot of this kanji meant.

Maou lit up and leaned forward over the table. "Yeah! The beef intestines are amazing, seriously. Pretty much everything comes with rice an' you can get veggies too if ya want," he finished lamely. Ashiya wasn't around to make him eat healthily, so he sure as hell wasn't going to take it upon himself.

"Rice and veggies?" Urushihara quirked a lazy eyebrow. "Dude, relax. I'm not Ashiya. I'll let you eat all the meat you want."

But intestines sounded a little gross. He wrinkled his nose childishly and leaned over the menu, sounding out what bits of kana he could understand.

"...You're sure the beef intestines are good? I never was one of those kindsa guys."

"Totally good." Maou leaned back, arms crossed sagely. He smiled decidedly, nodding. Then he shrugged. "But if ya don't wanna try new things, basically: If you can think of a meat, it's here."

A beat.

"Human meat." Another beat, and Maou reiterated with a point, "Meat eaten by humans locally."

"I'll trust your word on the whole cow entrails bit, there, Maou," Urushihara replied tentatively. "But you might want to. You know. Not talk about human meat in public. It's generally frowned upon in this society."

There were several ways to eat another man's meat in this world, but either way, it was hardly appropriate table talk.

"Right, right. Sorry," Maou breathed, clearly not really sorry. "I just love this place, an' I haven't been here in forever."

However long forever was to the Demon King Shift Manager at MgRonald's was a mystery. Truly, he'd be excited about yakiniku anyway, but he was thrilled he could introduce Urushihara to something so new and awesome.

"So! Two orders o' cow entrails." Maou grinned devilishly, then called over a waiter and placed their orders. Surprise dinner out, and he was paying--if Maou were the sort to think of these things, he'd realize this was practically a date.

"Thanks, Maou. For this, I mean. I don't say it much, but it's there."

Translated, it meant "I never say this and I'm not gonna say it again." But it was genuine, and he folded his arms on the table, not exactly the picture of good table etiquette. He looked around, his sharp eyes taking in the restaurant and all of its patrons.

"Man. What a place. It's like... Not expensive, but not exactly Yoshinoya, either."

"No problem, man." He sounded casual, but a corner of his lips was curled like a pleased devil's tail. Maou heard the message loud and clear, and it was enough to drive away a good chunk of the dark cloud that was tailing him.

As far as the restaurant went, Maou agreed. "It's a good balance, right? Though . . ." He leaned an elbow on the table himself, bent over the wood. "If you keep starin' at everyone, they're gonna give ya weird looks that'd rival the ones they gave my inspired speech about eatin' innards."

"Japanese people don't notice shit," Urushihara murmured in an undertone. "Everyone keeps their heads down. If they notice me starin', they'll just look away. The only ones that might stare back are those foreigners in the corner."

Despite his words, he obeyed Maou's suggestion and looked across the table at him, instead. He shifted, then sat on his hands, clearly ill at ease.

"Ashiya would kill us, you know."

Maou had been messing with Urushihara, so since he got the effect he wanted, he smiled. A grin that soon flattened into a serious line. He recited his battle plan.

"Ashiya will never know. We got you MgRonald's on the way home. There's enough red-'n-yellow bags in the trash he won't even question it."

"F'you wanna know what I think, I think we should get him a medium pork bowl from Sugiya on the way home."

He said with a pouty voice as he messed with the wash packet on his side of the table, opening it and washing his hands lazily with the damp, scented cloth.

Perhaps he was only teasing, picking on Ashiya. Or, on a deeper level, he wanted Ashiya to feel what he felt for once. Left out and fed table scraps.

But of course, that implied Urushihara was deep. Which he wasn't.

"No one's getting a pork bowl tonight," Maou drawled, sitting back. He could never submit Ashiya to that kind of irony! "I already brought him leftovers from work. That'll last us."

Of course it was for a reason like that. Though if they weren't keeping this outing a secret, Maou would have suggested getting Ashiya a bento, same as he did Urushihara. He didn't always play favorites.

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