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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"...You kinda miss being home, don't you?"

His tone wasn't snarky, but it wasn't pitying or accusatory, either. He spoke for the sake of speaking, to fill the awkward hole that had been created when Maou had slammed him into the ground hard enough to break bones.

"Not all the time, but sometimes." That dark satisfaction couldn't have just been because entrails were that tasty, right?

Maou's smile faded, subdued and faint. He kept his eyes on the grill. "Yeah."

Rather than sad, it was the voice of quiet acceptance and, perhaps, airy nostalgia. As far as Maou was concerned, he was admitting to the obvious.

"How could I not?" He prodded a dollop of meat with his chopsticks. Just to have something to do. "Home is home, y'know? It's the Devil's Castle, wherever that may be."

"...I guess we're kinda lucky, right? I mean, you and Alciel showed up and then so did I, but Emilia... What, she's got us, and this random human girl, and some Inquisition assassin who sucked at her job more than I did. We're pretty lucky."

From Urushihara, it was quite a comment. He nibbled at a single grain of rice on the edge of his chopstick, the picture of rudeness in contrast to the uncharacteristically thoughtful words.

Maou had no idea what he would do without his top two generals. If he had arrived alone, he doubted he would have made it. So, them, lucky?

"Yeah. Yeah, we are." Maou looked to Urushihara and smiled genuinely. He glanced away at once, however, brow drawn together. "Makes me feel kinda bad for Emi, though. Not that I want her hero buddies hangin' around, we got enough stalkers. But still."

Maou's eyes returned to Urushihara, his tone testing the waters that now churned between them. "We kinda got a family thing goin' on."

"Yeah, and I guess I never had that back home. No matter where I lived."

His voice was very even, his words carefully chosen. Anyone who was listening in would think that they were simply foreign, but Urushihara, of course, meant further from Japan than any human could imagine. He alone had lived in all three of Ente Isla's inhabitable areas, both moons and the continents themselves.

His idle confession spoke volumes.

Shot down. Maou looked back to the grill, the downward flick of his eyes speaking back just as loudly. For once, the Devil King was backing down.

"That home isn't exactly the kinda place for families," he said quietly, idly turning over a piece of intestine. It sounded like an excuse, but it simply felt different there. On Earth, there was less pressure, more opportunity for that sort of closeness to grow.

When they returned, would that closeness fade?

Maou met Urushihara's eyes, expression blunt. "Did you not feel like you belonged?"

"Well... No, dude. I would've thought that was obvious. I dropped from Heaven like a newborn giraffe, fucked around until you got off your ass, had bitchfights with Malacoda and Alciel, and then got stabbed through the heart by the great hero who now seems to be your best frenemy."

He pulled a shred of meat from the grill and put it in his mouth, parting his lips a moment later to breathe out heavily, a last-ditch effort to avoid burning his tongue. After a time, he chewed and swallowed, seeming to lighten up a little after the delicious mouthful.

"But here's... Well, it's not really that much different, but it's kinda different with you, sometimes."

"We're not frenemies," Maou stated firmly. Clearly that was the most important thing to take away from that entire paragraph.

There was a lot Maou wanted to say about his view of Lucifer's role back in Ente Isla, but he stuffed meat in his mouth to avoid saying anything stupid. He bought himself time to choose his words carefully as he chewed, then swallowed.

"You were always one of my most valued subordinates. Trusted, too," he said plainly. That was what mattered when you were a king leading an army of demons and one fallen angel. "That's why I made you a general. I thought that was evidence enough that you belonged in my castle."

"There's a difference between having a home base and having a home," Urushihara said plainly, letting a strip of meat dangle from his chopsticks.

Lucifer was problematic. Nothing and nowhere had ever made him happy. Bored and lonely, he'd fallen from Heaven, and at the same time had betrayed his only friends for a slim chance at returning. Even he couldn't put words to the feelings that had driven him to such a stupid action.

Maou didn't need words for those feelings, because he wouldn't be able to understand. He had already accepted Lucifer's actions and forgiven him. That was what mattered to Maou.

As it was, he shrugged, acquiescing. He claimed another lump of meat, dipping it into the sauce. "I'd like to keep what we have. No matter where we end up next."

He wouldn't pretend that it was probable or even possible. He couldn't make promises he couldn't stab into a rock and trust that there it would stay for a few centuries. Maou just didn't want to lose his friends, now matter how badly he fucked up.

Urushihara still wasn't quite sure of Maou was being honest or just posturing for the sake of pretending to have all the answers. Either way, he didn't press the issue, falling to following Maou's example and eating the meat with the delicious sauce. It was unlike anything they had on Ente Isla, and made him almost want to try making this kind of thing at home.

Almost.

And just like that, Urushihara stopped with a piece of food halfway to his mouth. His eyes, normally reflective and bright, clouded over. He didn't want to go home, he realized now. Not yet. Despite the brutality and horror of what had occurred in the forest, he was enjoying himself now. His aching body was still troublesome, but his heart was warming up slightly.

Or maybe his stomach. He was eating these things pretty quick. But still.

Maou swallowed the beef with a mumbled cry of, "So good!" When he opened his eyes, the Urushihara he was met with had his smile wavering in confusion. He watched him a moment, lips evening out into a considering expression.

"It's pretty good, right?" Maou flashed him a smile. "Told ya so."

"It really is, yeah. Thanks."

Better than pork bowls, anyway. Urushihara actually really didn't like pork. Beef was better. Healthier. Tastier. More nutritious.

And burning his mouth. He coughed, swallowing the chunk of meat and blinking the tears from his eyes rapidly. He was eating too fast.

"Dude, slow down. You gotta savor it, not inhale it," Maou lightly admonished. "It ain't gonna run away."

"Knowing our family?" Urushihara teased lightly. However, he did slow down. No need to scarf down his food like a stray dog afraid the meat would be taken away from him.

He was loathing that he loved this. The idea of going out to eat with Maou, even if Ashiya or the others were there, wasn't too unpleasant.

Of course, he would need to get a smartphone or tablet. Or maybe a 3DS.

"True," Maou conceded, smiling. He was just pleased Urushihara had confirmed they were a family. He'd be happy if Urushihara could go out with them some time. Maou could get him a cap to hide his hair. Or a sunhat. They would skip the shades, though. Maou didn't want Lucifer looking like Sariel of the Chicken Gaze.

Mood drastically improved, Maou lined up more beef on the grill, this time like sentries headed to war. Or the slaughter. The tune he was humming while cooking his prey was one of the pop songs that played in MgRonald's.

"Though I guess it'd be more fun if they did run away."

"They look like they're lined up for the slaughterhouse," Urushihara drawled with a slow, creeping grin. "Or I could move and sit at the end of the grill with my mouth open, and you can just conveyor-belt them down the hatch."

This was enjoyable. Even though moving hurt and Urushihara's eyes were still a little wary, he was having fun.

"Yes!" Maou shouted grandly, gripping his free hand into a fist. "I am all for that second plan. Sound effects included. Here, no, wait--"

He nudged his cup of sauce to the end of the grill. Then, with single-minded intensity, Maou rolled the lattermost segment of intestine down the grill with his chopsticks, his lips making the vvvv sound of a machine.

"Now who's gonna get weird looks?"

This side of Maou was childish and sweet. It was such a stark contrast to the demon that had hurt him in the woods, and yet it was the same man. How was such a think possible?

Urushihara's chopsticks darted out to intercept Maou's, aiming to snag the vrooming piece of meat.

"Gimme that."

"Wha--!" Maou floundered and fenced with Urushihara's chopsticks, temporarily thwarting him.

"Ah-ah, young grasshopper," he chided in a dorky voice. "If you want my booty, you'll have to try better than that!"

"I don't want anythin' to do with your booty," Urushihara replied in the same calm, casual voice he always used. He rested his cheek in his palm as he battled Maou's chopsticks with his own. "But I would like your meat, so. Gimme."

A laugh rumbled just beneath Maou's grin as he parried Urushihara. "You're good, I admit. But there's something you don't know."

"You're not left-handed?" Urushihara's chopsticks closed around the piece of meat, holding it against the grill so that it sizzled appetizingly and filled their small space with the smell of good beef.

Maou pressed his chopsticks against the sizzling strip. He stared down Urushihara.

"Right, and! You can have my meat." Maou relinquished the piece and nabbed another strip, dipping it into the sauce with finality. He was incredibly pleased with himself.

Somehow, Urushihara felt as though he'd lost. He let the piece cook for a little longer, bewildered, before dipping it into the sauce alongside Maou's and finally eating it. He chewed quietly, wondering how they were supposed to explain today to Ashiya, and what the hell was on Maou's mind.

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