Set stood perfectly still and unmoving upon the deck of the Mesektet as it sailed through the black waters of the Netherworld as malformed things writhed formless in the abyss beneath the solar barque. And deeper still, in the unfathomable reaches of the primeval dark, he could starkly sense Apep rising, the Chaos Serpent preparing for its eternal assault. Yet despite the looming fray, amusement wisped faintly within Set’s chest.
The unmistakable weight of Ra’s gaze bored into his back. He had told Ichigo that the Divine loved the sounds of their own voices. They also loathed not knowing. Especially the heads of each pantheon, they demanded complete control and knowledge of all that occurred within their mythos.
“You have decided to side with the child,” Ra said gravely.
Set fought to keep his lips from twitching, knowing too well that even with his back to him, nothing escaped the Eternal Sun’s gaze.
“He is no child.”
And the sudden weight of disapproval threading through reality was all the sign he needed to know that Ra had frowned in response to his words.
“Powerful beyond most others he maybe, nevertheless, the count of his breaths are little more than two decades. If not a child, then what?”
In response, Set raised a hand, and a storm of crimson lightning erupted endlessly in all directions, the black of the Netherworld driven back beneath the crushing weight of his infinite red might.
“Young,” Set said as he brought down his hand, unleashing millions of bolts of crimson lightning that annihilated the spawn of Apep. “He is young, that much is undoubtable. But what he has accomplished, what he continues to accomplish, and will do so in the coming future – no. It is disingenuous to consider him a child. He has earned my respect, and that of all who have come to know him.”
Ra said nothing in response, but Set could feel his immortal emanator’s discontent. He looked over his shoulder, meeting the twin suns in the eyes of the Ram-Headed Ra. “You would disagree?”
Ra did not deign to answer his question, instead, the Eternal Sun said, “In one breath you have said more good things about that young one than you have about your own siblings in over two-thousand years.”
Set let out a chuckle. Well, Ra wasn’t wrong. But then, that had more to do with how he had settled comfortably in his own exile than any lingering animosity towards his three siblings. Millennia of sulking did get tiring – imagine his immense surprise, and relief, when came the epiphany that exile also meant he no longer had to spend his hours bickering and battling with his own family. In many ways, Horus’ victory had been a great boon.
The Ennead was finally rid of their most problematic member, and he had found his own solace away from the noxious turmoil that was Kemet and its house of endless deities. As far as Set was concerned, everyone benefited.
“They miss you,” Ra said.
Set paused briefly, but slowly he turned back towards the reforming horde of otherworldly monsters. “They do not.”
“Do you truly believe they have cast you out of their hearts?”
He shook his head, thoughts briefly drifting back to eons ago, back when, despite his own paradoxical nature, he was considered young.
“What they miss is a memory, the Set of yestereve.” And from the blasted shadow, a pair of baleful eyes, twice as tall as him, glared up – glinting with mad hunger and unending hatred. He took a step, and with a flick of his wrist, the infinite sea of red lightning collapsed into a lone bolt that glowed with endless crimson fury. “All things are subject to change, even Eternity.”
And Apep coiled before the barge, a chaotic corpus of shadow and anathema, whose each scale held a world’s worth of loathing.
“And yet, for all the change within Eternity, we find ourselves repeating the same old stories,” Ra said, a hint of condescension entering his voice. “Is static change true change?”
He found his chest rumbling with mirth, and old and recurrent philosophical query that the Eternal Sun often posed. Which, in itself, was a supreme irony. However, the weight of the moment was not lost on him, nor was it ever. This moment, this eternal conflict, was the greatest reminder for him of the true nature of his existence.
Because there he stood – before him coiled Apep, Isfet: the embodiment of cosmic chaos. And behind, judgmental and rigid as ever, was Ra, Ma’at: the embodiment of cosmic order. And as ever, Sutekh stood between the two, ensuring they never touched. For that was his role, to be the embodiment of cosmic strength that kept them in balance and harmony.
And as Set raised his spear of storms, his thoughts drifted towards that young friend whose eyes shifted from warm and gentle browns to horrifying and frenzied red.
Red as his thunder.
‘You will find many opposite paths, Ichigo. And they will try and tear you asunder,’ Set said onto Eternity. ‘Strength is to walk them in equal measure, holding them at bay. But strength is not enough. Those that would pull you; grasp them crushing and bend all roads until they come back to you. Become the destination where your Will is the only finality. Behold this thing called power.”
And with savage brutality Sutekh the Destroyer unleashed chaos.
=======
Ichigo looked on warily at what was essentially all that was left of Katerea Leviathan. Sera really didn’t hold back with the torture, it seemed. A part of him was touched that she vented her temper on his behalf to such an extent, but he also knew that it was also chiefly to extract as much information on the Old Satan Faction and the Khaos Brigade.
As he stepped into the cell, Ichigo casually held out a hand and conjured a simple wooden chair for himself, and then turned it around and sat down, draping himself across its back.
“You look like shit,” he said, chuckling to himself. “You couldn’t keep up with Sirzechs and the others, threw away all your pride as a Devil and groveled at the feet of Ophis for its blessing, and you still got your ass kicked by reincarnated me. To wit, you suck, Katerea.”
And the captured noble’s eyes burned fierce with red hatred.
Ichigo wagged a finger just out of reach. “Uh-uh, don’t get angry. Sin of Wrath, remember? I can easily turn all that around on you and make your life even worse than it already is. Hard it may be to imagine.”
His words had an instant effect, and he could see the spark of panic and fright dance within her gaze. Nevertheless, there was still some lingering resentment buried behind her fear of pain and torment.
He then ran a hand through his hair and let out an exaggerated sigh. “Now admittedly, Sucks-a-rea, I’m not exactly sure what to do with you. I could just kill you. It’d be the easiest thing for me, and it would mean less work for Helvrick back here - who can just go back to collecting free checks from yours truly.”
“I bow before your eternal magnanimity, my Prince,” his Lord Warden said, excellently timing the brownnosing.
“But here’s the thing, Loserea, I’m trying to become a better tyrant for the Empire,” Ichigo admitted flippantly. “To be clear, my Empire, not yours. Because, you know, you don’t have one. But the thing about tyranny is, you need examples of brutality to instill fear and obedience into the masses. If I kill you right here in my dungeon, aside for my own personal convenience, it doesn’t really do anything. Which is why, I was thinking, we can do a public execution. Make a spectacle of it, sell tickets. What do you think, Halvrick?”
The short Devil clicked his heels and nodded enthusiastically. “Of course, my Prince! Brilliant idea! Genius! A masterstroke, if I do say so myself!”
Ichigo turned back around towards Katerea, who continued to glare cautiously at him. “See? While you and the other exiles are off pointlessly posturing in the abandoned wilds, the rest of your species have ingratiated themselves to us Sins to the point of being total sycophants.” And he turned back around towards the warden Devil.
“You are a sycophant, aren’t you Halvrick?”
The Devil gave an immediate salute and shouted, “The back of my neck is your stepping stool, sire!”
And Ichigo smirked as he gave Katerea a meaningful look. “But hey, between you and me, I’m not really into public executions. Not my style, I’m not one to glorify murder. Even if it is justified.”
He then reached into his jacket and pulled out a small piece of metal that glowed with a crimson light. And at its sight, Katerea’s eyes widened and she shook her head violently, thrashing against the chains binding her.
“I could use this instead,” he said absently, rolling the Pawn piece between his fingers. “Now wouldn’t that be funny? The head of House Leviathan, a pure-blooded descendant of one of the original Sins, bound and made to serve at the whims of the new Sins who overthrew the rule of the old ones?”
And as the stark fear ran rampant in her eyes, Ichigo allowed a hint of his Demonic essence to leak and press against her psyche; and he forced her to imagine the worst possible outcomes of what would happen if she was compelled into his servitude. Dozens of horrific humiliations and tribulations flashed through her mind, all of which would see her ego and soul broken until nothing remained but a shell slavishly reliant on his dread Will.
But Ichigo put the Pawn back into his jacket and let out a snort. “Yeah, no. Don’t kid yourself. Even a Pawn piece would be utterly wasted on someone like you. You’re an entitled nepo-baby who doesn’t know what to do with the power you’ve inherited save for throwing a tantrum.”
Ichigo then stood up and dismissed the chair he had conjured. With one step on his long stride, he stood before the enchained she-Devil and grabbed her chin and jerked her neck up, forcing her to meet his crimson gaze as he brought out his power and shook the entire realm.
“What are we going to do with you then, Katerea?” Satan asked, his voice warping every shadow in the land.
Katerea sweated profusely as Satan’s dark presence forced itself through her body, the invasive pressure sending violent tremors through her limbs. Blood slowly leaked from the corners of her eyes in thin crimson streams while wet, broken gurgles rattled in the back of her throat, her entire frame quivering uncontrollably beneath the demonic intrusion.
As the pressure mounted and the very air began to groan under the strain of his presence, his fingers dug into her chin, the bone beneath giving an audible crack. “Well?”
But as the pure-blooded Devil continued to shake hysterically, she only let out those strange, warbled sounds from her throat. Ichigo narrowed his eyes, hint of his ire leaking through and pressing hot against reality.
“Um, s-sire?”
And Ichigo turned around slowly, his red eyes falling on the lanky Halvrick who immediately fell to the ground in prostration with a squeak.
“What is it?”
His Chief Jailor hiccupped in fear and shivered beneath his gaze. “I-i-innumerable pardons, my Lord! B-but, the prisoner c-cannot answer your august self!”
“Explain.”
“W-well, you see, the prisoner’s tongue was cut out by Lord Leviathan…”
Ichigo blinked, the sudden weight and presence of Satan disappearing as he looked at the shivering Katerea and then back to kowtowing Devil.
“…are you serious?” he asked deadpan.
“Yes, my Lord!” Halvrick squealed.
“…”
So this entire time Katerea had been unable to respond to his provocations, insults or threats? He had been doing the whole stereotypical Dark Lord monologuing schtick - which he hated - for the past five minutes for absolutely nothing?
Ichigo slowly raised his hand and carefully pinched the bridge of his nose. He could feel the beginnings of a headache forming.
For fuck’s sake!
With a frustrated sigh, Ichigo swept past Halvrick and walked out of the cell with a scowl.
“S-sire?”
“Grow her tongue back!” He ground out angrily. “And don’t give her something expensive like Phoenix Tears, just some minor regenerative potion for her tongue and tongue alone!”
“Of course, my Lord!”
Shaking his head, Ichigo stormed out his dungeons. He really, really hated the evil machinations part of the job description!
Good thing Sirzechs or the others weren’t around to see this, they’d never let him live it down! How embarrassing. But as he fumed internally, his phone began to ring and Ichigo quickly took it out of his pocket and looked down at the caller ID – an unknown number. Huh, that was odd. There were very, very few people who had his personal line. Who could it be?
=======
Cao Cao sat cross-legged upon his bed in complete stillness while the Spear of Destiny floated horizontally before him, its surface radiating a faint golden glow that softly illuminated the dark room. Through slow, measured meditation, he deepened the bond between himself and the Longinus, allowing the sacred weapon to continue its gradual reshaping of his body and soul into something stronger.
Through his concentration on the most powerful Sacred Gear, however, he could vaguely sense immense disturbances moving through the depths of existence itself, subtle ripples spreading across Time and Space from beings of incomprehensible power. Yet despite perceiving them, Cao Cao understood his own limitations well enough to know he lacked the mystical insight necessary to grasp what those distant movements truly meant.
Or who they were.
Slowly he opened his eyes and was immediately greeted with the sight of his closest friend, Georg, the descendant of the legendary sorcerer Faust. Georg’s eyes were narrowed behind his glasses, his expression tight and focused as he stared back at him.
With an amused smile, Cao Cao said, “You look troubled.”
Georg’s scowl deepened. “That’s because I am. And I wish you were too.”
With a small laugh, he reached out and grabbed the Longinus Spear, instantly feeling the nova of power within, and he drew the legendary weapon back into the confines of his soul.
“I don’t worry because I have your brilliant mind by my side,” he offered with a pleasant smile.
Georg rolled his eyes. “While I appreciate the confidence, it doesn’t change how out of control the situation has become.”
He let out a thoughtful hum, carefully considering his friend’s words. While the situation with Khaos Brigade was not ideal, it wasn’t exactly an uncontrolled mess. The Infinite Ouroboros was seemingly content making cryptic remarks towards Vali, or rather, the ancient Dragon sealed within him. Even if it went around resurrecting powerful dragons of the mythic past.
As for everyone else… well, the Hero Faction has the manpower to defeat any and all of them. Especially the wretched Old Satan Faction.
But his thoughts must have been obvious as Georg gave him a disapproving glare.
“Crueserey and Shalba are an afterthought,” the sorcerer said with a hint of disdain. “The new Satans will crush the two idiots with little effort, even with Ophis’ blessing.”
“But you’re worried that we may meet a similar fate if we challenge the Satans as well?” He asked shrewdly, a single eyebrow raised in question.
Georg crossed his arms, his mouth setting grimly. “I think we’re vastly underestimating the new Sins. This Old Satan Faction’s plan to invade is bound to fail, we know they can’t take on the full military might of the Devil Empire.”
“Which is what makes this such a wonderful opportunity for us,” Cao Cao said pointedly. “Even if it’s for mere moments, Crueserey and Shalba can occupy the attention of the Crimson Lucifer. And they’ve struck some sort of deal with Ophis to occupy Leviathan and Asmodeus. With their deaths, they can buy enough time for our team with three Longinus users to infiltrate and assassinate Ajuka Beelzebub. Of the Satans, he is undoubtedly the most dangerous to humanity, case in point being the Evil Piece system he created.”
Georg gave him a flat look. “And Kurosaki? You’ll take him on by yourself? Cao Cao, you may be the strongest human alive but we’re talking about a Demon Lord that makes the previous Satan look like a helpless toddler.”
Cao Cao frowned heavily at his best friend. “You don’t think I can defeat him?”
“Do you?” Georg shot back. “Even after being weakened and jumped by Vali and being held back by Ophis, a full-blown Divine sneak attacking him couldn’t finish him off! And not two weeks later he’s on the front lines against Shalba and Creuserey’s armies! I’ve managed to steal some of their reports; he’s burning entire dimensions down!”
Georg took off his glasses with a sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Cao Cao, I’m not saying you’d lose to him outright, but assassinating Ajuka Beelzebub is already going to take all of our strongest members. You going off and trying to hold back Satan by yourself is an unnecessary and, quite frankly, stupid risk.”
He crossed his arms, mulling the counsel over in his head. Nothing Georg said was incorrect. Satan was monstrously powerful – if the rumors were to be believed, as powerful as Sirzechs Lucifer and Ajuka Beelzebub themselves.
“What are you suggesting then?” he asked seriously.
Georg put his glasses back on and straightened. “You need to join the strike force that will take on Ajuka; your presence would mitigate a number of concerns and hugely increase our chances of killing the Sin.”
“But then who will keep Kurosaki isolated?” Cao Cao immediately countered. “We can’t have one of the Sins running free and helping the others out, it would ruin all of our plans.”
Georg rolled his jaw and hesitated briefly before speaking. “Well… there is the soon to come Shinto civil war and Tsukiyomi’s known animosity with Satan.”
Cao Cao immediately rolled his eyes in exasperation.
Georg let out a groan in response. “Oh, come on! Hear me out! I know you hate relying on the Divine even more than these damn Devils, but it’s the smartest thing to do! With Kurosaki tied down by the Shinto, that’s one less Satan for us to worry about!”
“I’d much rather confront him myself,” Cao Cao said sourly.
Cao Cao held immense disdain for those pretend gods who sat far and removed from human life and troubles. And yet, despite their cold indifference and condescension towards the human race, they still demanded worship and reverence. As far as Cao Cao was concerned, the so-called Immortals of the Fourth Dimension were nothing more than cosmic parasites on the limitless potential of humanity.
And Tsukiyomi was amongst the worst of them. A disdainful and baselessly arrogant being who had no credit or accomplishment to his name yet demanded nothing but respect and deference from all he laid eyes on.
He snorted to himself; no wonder his own siblings threw him out of their pantheon.
Cao Cao wasn’t stupid, he knew that many of the True Immortals served critically important functions in the universe, but that’s all they were in his view. Cosmic gears.
He did not believe that warranted worship. A thank you at best; but a lifetime of slavish devotion and ritual? No, that was far too much. Especially considering this modern age where deities were all but absent from the mortal world.
“Cao Cao.”
His eyes jumped up, slightly startled as he stared at the unimpressed look on Georg’s face.
“You’re brooding again.”
He blinked. “Ah, sorry.”
Georg let out a sigh. “Why are you so dead set on facing Kurosaki anyways?”
He shrugged in response. “The Hero slays the Demon King, that’s how the story goes.”
The other Longinus wielder rolled his eyes. “Somehow, I doubt that all there is to it. I heard you even went and asked Vali about him. So? What exactly is it about him that has you so deadest on confronting Satan?”
Cao Cao let out a sigh and ran one hand through his heavy raven-colored locks. He looked up at the ceiling, trying to search for the words, for the turmoil in his heart when it came to Kurosaki Ichigo.
“I don’t get it,” he finally admitted. “I don’t get him.”
Georg frowned. “What’s not to get?”
“Because he saved the world!” Cao Cao protested vehemently. “We’ve all heard the rumors, the story! Kurosaki Ichigo stopped a mad Reaper from upending the afterlife and saved the world in the process! It’s what every hero dreams of! He finished the story! So why didn’t he settle for happily ever after? What on Earth made him go and literally sell his soul to Devil? He gave up his humanity after saving everyone else’s! That’s not how the Hero’s story goes!”
“Life isn’t some comic book story, Cao Cao,” Georg said solemnly.
He gave his old friend a meaningful look, one filled with an immense mythic weight that could only be shared between Longinus wielders - those humans destined for greatness.
“You and I both know how important myths are in this world,” he said heavily. “Heroes don’t save the world only to become Satan. That’s not how it works.”
Georg’s lips pressed into a thin line, and he looked away. Both of them fell into a deep silence as their minds were occupied by the once-human Satan.
After several moments, Georg said quietly, “Maybe the story’s changed then?”
His words caused bitter bile to burn in Cao Cao’s throat, and his face scrunched in discontent. Because no. Not that story. Heroes save people and defeat the bad guys. They bring hope and prosperity to humanity. They don’t become the very darkness that they’re supposed to vanquish.
“Then I guess I’ll just have to end that story,” Cao Cao said menacingly.
=======
“Would you like anything else with your tea?”
Akeno looked up from her cup, her gaze cool and sharp as she met the piercing blue eyes of Meril. She instantly put on her fakest smile.
“No, thank you.”
Meril seemed to regard her for a second, and the way she pressed her lips thinly made it clear she wanted to say something. But apparently the much older Devil thought better of it and neatly brushed a lock of hair behind her ear instead.
Akeno herself wasn’t quite sure where her dislike of Lord Ichigo’s chief secretary came from, but she couldn’t help the inherent disdain she felt whenever she laid her eyes on the aloof woman. In some ways, Meril reminded her of Lady Grayfia. Actually, now that she thought about it, Meril reminded her of Lady Grayfia in all the wrong ways.
Sure, they both had that strict and commanding demeanor, but Akeno had spent years in the Gremory household – she knew all too well that, behind that austere silver eyes, Lady Grayfia was an incredibly kind and nurturing woman. For Akeno, robbed of her mother that she was, Lady Grayfia had become the closest guiding personage when it came to being a woman. Especially given she was considered the greatest Queen in the Underworld.
Grayfia Lucifuge was everything Akeno Himejima aspired to be as a woman and a Queen. Powerful, wise and so incredibly in control of everything.
And control was the one thing Akeno wanted more than anything.
Because life always seemed to be so out of control for her.
From what she heard, Meril had even learned under Lady Grayfia some time ago. Yet, despite having that same severe glint in her, Meril utterly lacked the warmth and sage demeanor Lady Grayfia possessed.
Lady Grayfia was also humble.
She did not go around flaunting her superiority over everyone else, indeed, she was devoted to flaunting Lord Sirzechs’ instead.
Meril wasn’t like that, at least not in Akeno’s eyes. She was a haughty bitch always looking down on everyone. As if, somehow, just by being by Lord Ichigo’s side made her better than the rest of them. Whenever the Abraxas descendant visited them in Grevex, she always had such a condescending attitude.
It grated on Akeno to no end.
… but Akeno could also admit that there was a hint of jealousy as well. Meril was an accomplished career Devil – one didn’t get placed at the side of a Satan through pure nepotism. Anyone who lacked ability wouldn’t last long in the position. Heck, if the rumors were to be believed, several of Meril’s predecessors had been devoured by an irate Dragon King.
Meril was capable and efficient in her role at Lord Ichigo’s side, easily taking care of all of his commands and anticipating his wants and needs. She was superior to Akeno when it came to serving their respective lords. It also didn’t help that the woman was drop dead beautiful and always dressed in – what Akeno suspected – custom, high fashion at all times. Meanwhile, Akeno was currently reduced to wearing second hand or low-retail clothes that were bought at deep discount sales.
It was stupid, and she knew it, but it made her feel… less, somehow.
Being one of the two great “Onee-samas” of Kuoh Academy had inflated her ego. She was beautiful, she knew that. Even amongst the supernatural, Akeno considered herself a top-level beauty, she never failed to turn heads. She had become a little too accustomed to being the center of attention and envy of others.
She was not used to envying others.
And, of course, there was the third and final facet of her dislike for Meril… she was close to Lord Ichigo.
Akeno felt a wave of annoyance well up inside of her at the thought, but she had enough self-awareness to admit that she had quite the schoolgirl’s crush on the youngest of the Crown Princes. Devils were naturally attracted to power, and the man was like a walking supernova according to her senses.
The only other person she had ever encountered who registered on such a scale was Lord Sirzechs. And Rias’ older brother and, more importantly, Lady Grayfia’s husband was completely off the appropriate crush list. Never mind the fact the Demon Lord sometimes went out of his way to direct his inexhaustible older brother energy towards her – no, that Crown Prince was the top of the “Revere Only” list. Not even in her wildest dreams would she ever think of the Crimson Lucifer in such a way.
But Lord Ichigo…?
He was different, he was… approachable. And very present in her life in the last several months. Monstrous in power and nature; but then he would look at them with those brown eyes twinkling with mirth and amusement. At moments, his stern and imposing aura would fall away, and his expression would become so boyish and his smile so playful that her teenage girl brain would just go completely haywire.
It also helped he wasn’t some centuries-old monster from the ancient past. He was just a few years older than her. And cute older college boys with just the right mix of maturity and mischief were exactly her type.
Fuck, she had it bad for that man.
“Then I shall leave you to wait for the Crown Prince.” Akeno blinked rapidly as she was torn from her thoughts and looked at the heavy stare of Meril’s cool eyes. “His Highness said he will be here shortly, so you shouldn’t be waiting long.”
Right… she was currently sitting in Lord Ichigo’s office, waiting for him after giving him the call he had told her to give him when she felt she was ready to talk about her powers. Akeno had been, admittedly, a tad disappointed when Lord Ichigo had sent Meril to pick her up from their dump in Grevex instead of coming himself. But rationally, she knew how immensely busy he must be. He was a Crown Prince of Hell and one of the Ruling Satans – the fact he was taking time out of his day for her at all was a boon that billions across the Empire would literally kill for.
As Meril walked out the office doors, she stopped under the threshold, looked over her shoulder and threw Akeno an intense look. “Though I doubt it need be said – do not touch anything in His Highness’ office.”
Her grip on the handle of the tea cup tightened and Akeno gave the politest smile. “Of course.”
Meril’s cold eyes lingered for a moment before she walked away and vanished down the low-lit halls of Iravex. And as soon as she was out of sight, Akeno rolled her eyes out of sheer exasperation.
Did the frigid bitch think Akeno was suicidal? Who in their right mind would be stupid enough to rummage through a Demon Lord’s personal things in the heart of his literal fortress when he was on his way? Akeno just realized she found a fourth thing she disliked about Meril: she treated everyone like an idiot.
“What a bitch,” she muttered to herself.
“That’s not true,” a decidedly male voice said from behind her, causing Akeno to jump in her seat and spill steaming, hot tea over her hands. She quickly turned around to see Lord Ichigo leaning against his desk, his arms crossed, as he regarded her with a neutral look. “Meril’s just being prudent.”
“L-Lord Ichigo!” She made to stand up and bow, which was irrefutably awkward with a tray and cup of tea in both hands - half of the contents of the hot beverage blistering her skin as well.
The Demon regarded her for a moment before letting out a noncommittal hum and uncrossing his arms. His long strides carried him towards her and, gently, the Demon took the saucer and cup from her hands and set them down on the table, causing her to blush in embarrassment.
Said blush grew monumentally stronger when he took both her hands in his and she felt hot magic seep through her fingers and heal the light burns and dry her hands.
“One of the very few downsides of having high-speed regeneration,” the Demon commented off-handedly. “You don’t have much of an incentive to learn healing spells – but this much should suffice, I think.”
As he let go over hands, she quickly brought them to her chest and quietly mumbled, “Thank you.”
Lord Ichigo let out another hum and sat down opposite her, but not before motioning with his fingers and causing the doors of his office to slam shut. He then regarded her for a moment before tilting his head and asking, “You don’t like my secretary very much, do you?”
She felt a flare of panic through her mind and quickly shook her head in denial. “N-no, of course not! I w-was just-”
But a single raised eyebrow from him silenced her on the spot.
Briefly his eyes flashed crimson, and a shiver crept down her spine. He then said, “Here’s some solid advice: don’t lie to a Demon. Especially about your own negative feelings. We can sense those. Now sit.”
She squirmed internally as she took her seat, less than two minutes into meeting him and she had already screwed up twice. “S-sorry,” she said, her eyes cast down in shame.
Lord Ichigo leaned back and spread both his arms across the back of the sofa. “Meril is my direct subordinate. Insulting her is the same as insulting me. Sure, if you’re as strong as me, you can say whatever you want. But until then, you need to be mindful of keeping intrusive thoughts in your head.”
“I – yes sir. Sorry, sir.” She said, her head bowing lower.
But Lord Ichigo waved her off. “It’s whatever. I’m not actually mad and getting lectured is not why you’re here. But that does bring up a valid question: why are you here?”
She gave him a quizzical look. Why was she here? Wasn’t he the one who…? “You told me to call you?” she asked uncertainly.
“Oh, I remember what I said,” the Demon Lord said. “I just want to know what you expect to get out of coming to me.”
“I…” She hesitated for a moment. What did she expect from this encounter? Power, certainly. But Akeno was smart enough to know that power was simply a means, not an end. Power without purpose was inert, it accomplished nothing. She frowned for a moment, carefully considering her words, remembering what he had said in their last conversation – about overcoming oneself.
“I want control,” she finally said, as much to herself as to him. Akeno then slowly nodded to herself, feeling her own desires slowly take shape in her mind even as she said them out loud. “I want control over myself… I don’t want to be ruled by my past anymore.”
She had told Lord Ichigo she had left her past behind her, cut it off. But that had been a boldfaced lie – she hadn’t left anything behind. It all sat inside of her as a festering and pulsing wound. And, unfortunately, he had been right: her denial of her heritage had become an active detriment in her growth. Both magically and psychologically.
But…
“That’s good,” he said, his smile becoming warm and soft in a way that made her avert her eyes shyly. “But saying something and doing something are two very different things.”
She nodded her head even as she held back a humorless laugh. “So, I’ve come to realize.”
“I am the Sin of Wrath.” And it was in the way he said it that made all the magic jump inside of her, as if he were making some sort of heralding proclamation to the world at large. “And I can sense a lot of hatred inside of you. So, let’s start there, what is it that you hate, Himejima?”
Her lips immediately parted, the answer so obvious and ready on her tongue, but, nonetheless, she struggled to voice a truth so… so twisted. So painful.
She thought back to her dead mother, lying bleeding on the floor, to the insane light in the eyes of the elders of Himejima clan, and the cold void of rage that had been her father when he had come onto the scene. And all of, all of it, came back to -
“Myself.”
A spark of yellow electricity danced across her clenched hands.
“I hate myself.”
=======
Ichigo sat staring impassively at the young girl, her magic fluctuating erraticly as she glared at the tight fists held in her lap. Her self-deprecation and loathing tainting the immediate air around her, and, just as before, he found himself consciously pressing down his Sin. Self-loathing, and the depression it created, were like a five-course meal for the Sin of Wrath, especially when it stemmed from sundered love and heartbreak.
At the same time, Ichigo found himself recalling all too familiar memories of one fateful night early into his Substitute Shinigami days; back when his family and Rukia had visited his mother’s grave. Back when he had first encountered the Hollow that –
He cut those thoughts away, closing his eyes in a silent sigh.
Ichigo flexed his jaw before forcing himself to move his stiff body and rested his cheek against his fist. He looked on in sympathy and understanding as Akeno continued to churn in silence.
“Okay then,” he said quietly. He then waved his hand, refilling Akeno’s cup of tea while also simultaneously conjuring one for himself. He reached out and carelessly grabbed the cup by its edge, and with a single motion, he downed the entire glass. Yasaka would have been horrified if she saw him do such. “What is it about yourself that you hate so much, Himejima?”
She briefly looked up, a flash of hurt and hesitation passing through her eyes as she gingerly raised a fist and pressed it against her chest. His supernatural hearing easily picked up the sound of her thudding heart beneath her hand.
“I…” She faltered briefly, before looking away as another stab of pain spiked through her soul. “How much do you know about my past… sir?”
“Everything,” Ichigo admittedly flatly.
Akeno’s eyes shot towards him in shock, and he shrugged casually in response.
“When I accepted all of you into my care, I was given extensive profiles on each and every single one of you,” he said. “And I’ve gone over them all thoroughly.”
She stared at him in surprise for another second before her expression morphed puzzled. “But then… why are you asking me…?”
“Like I said in our last conversation,” he said with a tiny bit of humor. “I know a thing or two about fighting with yourself. Vocalizing your inner turmoil helps with rationalizing it, which then makes it easier to conquer it.”
She went quiet again, her eyes flooding with emotion as she looked at him heavy. Or rather, she seemed to look past him, and Ichigo had seen a similar expression on his own face in the mirror enough times to know she was lost in her own memories.
Several moments passed and then Akeno let out a soft sigh.
“My father is the Fallen Lord Baraqiel,” she said with bite. “I’m not sure if you’ve met him before.”
“Just two weeks ago,” Ichigo said frankly, and Akeno’s gaze jumped in astonishment. “And a few weeks before that too. He asked about you both times.”
A series of emotions passed through Akeno’s face all at once – hurt, yearning, anger, profound sorrow, and finally, resignation.
“W-what did he say?” She asked, and Ichigo could hear the touch of hope coloring her voice.
“He asked how you were doing, and he asked me to look after you,” Ichigo answered honestly.
Akeno immediately snorted contemptuously, her soul coloring with a fresh wave of hurt. “Yes, he’s very comfortable with asking others to do his job for him. He didn’t hesitate in the slightest to say the same to Duke Gremory all those years ago.”
“For what it’s worth,” Ichigo said lightly, “I refused him. I told him if he wants you taken care of, he can come do so himself.”
The teenager girl looked visibly touched for a moment, but then her expression turned cold and irritated once more, her mouth twisting tartly. “And to the surprise of no one, he never bothered to show up.”
Ichigo kept his lips from twitching in amusement. His offer back during the Summit was more of an empty one. There was no way he was ever going to allow a Cadre directly into the heart of his realm. And he couldn’t even begin to imagine the temper tantrum that overgrown sis-con Sirzechs would throw if he handed over Rias’ Queen to Baraqiel.
“My father,” and even Ichigo was impressed with the amount of venom the girl put into the word, “met my mother a little over twenty years ago when he was heavily injured by his enemies. She sheltered him and nursed him back to health and, during the process, they fell for each other. But my mother was of the Himijima Clan, a powerful family of human mystics that serve the Shinto Pantheon. Suffice it to say, they were not happy with my mother consorting with a Fallen Angel.”
Ichigo knew all of this, of course. He had read it in her files and heard it from Baraqiel himself. And again, he was reminded of his own father’s story of how he met his mother and their slow but eventual romance. It was an interesting parallel, even to Ichigo.
As for the Himejima, he had a vague impression of them from one of the very many rants he had listened to patiently on his wife’s behalf. The clan was known for its strict devotion to the Shinto and this meant they would sometimes interact with Yasaka - being the conduit to Amaterasu that she was. In fact, Ichigo had even met the Himejima clan head briefly. But he did not give the man much attention as he was ultimately far below Ichigo’s personal notice.
“Baraqiel’s love caused the Himejima to hate my mother and, more specifically, to hate me.” Akeno slowly gripped the sides of her own elbows, even as her face slightly twisted. “They thought me an abomination. They thought – they think - that I’m a Nephilim.”
And her lips curled in pure disgust and hatred.
Ichigo gave her an understanding look. Baraqiel’s crimes in the fashioning of the Nephilim were well documented in the upper echelons of the Three Great Powers. While many believed that the Cadre had been another one of the countless Angels who had fallen victim to Lucifer’s machinations, there were just as many who believed he had done everything knowingly and willingly.
And after Lucifer had abandoned his Angelic origins and became the Devil, finally creating his own ideal race and mockery of humanity, he had personally ordered the nascent Devil race to hunt down and exterminate the prototype of their species.
The monstrous Nephilim were thus wiped out by both Angels and Demons alike; hunted to complete extinction. They were utterly wiped out of existence.
Well… almost utterly wiped out of existence. Ajuka did have some universe-shaking secrets down in those labs of his, after all.
“Baraqiel’s presence protected me and my mother from the clan’s hatred,” and Akeno let out a humorless laugh. “As conceited as my mother’s family were, they weren’t stupid enough to directly challenge a Cadre. But my father, wary of angering the Shinto Pantheon, never took direct action against them either.”
Ichigo nodded to himself. A Fallen Lord being openly allowed in and out of Shinto territory was already tolerant enough on Takamagahara’s part. Had he directly acted against the Himejima – perhaps not Amaterasu herself – but other powerful Shinto deities would not have remained silent on the matter.
“He would often return to the Grigori to handle his numerous duties, leaving my mother and I alone for several weeks at a time.” And Akeno stopped herself, her eyes growing misty even as rage and sorrow melded in her gaze. “We were shunned, yes. But neither Baraqiel nor my mother dreamed that the Himejima would come for us.”
And even as her face contorted angrily, he could plainly see the deeper hurt and pain within her eyes. “Come for me. My father’s blood marked me as a monster in their eyes. And it was my mother who paid the price.”
She then smiled at him humorlessly, eyes dancing with fury and misery and even a hint of madness. “Can you imagine what it must feel like? To know you’re the reason for your mother’s death?”
Ichigo didn’t hesitate for a single second.
“Yes.”
=======
Akeno stared at him in mute shock, her breath catching somewhere in her throat as that single word echoed hollow in her mind repeatedly.
Yes.
…
Yes?
What did he mean by yes?
And he said that lone word without hesitation, without pity, but with absolute certainty. Even now, as she looked at him, those brown eyes seemed infinitely more powerful than those dreaded crimson ones.
Because - what the hell did he mean by yes?
Her thoughts dissolved into utter chaos, emotions crashing into one another so violently she could barely separate them. Hurt flared first, sharp and instinctive, followed immediately by anger at the thought that he was somehow dismissing her feelings, her history. Because he could sense her pain as a Demon? Because he had read some files?
She poured out her heart, she trusted –
How dare he? How fucking dare he!? Even if he was a Crown Prince of Hell, how dare he assume he knew what she felt watching her own mother being murdered because of the mere fact Akeno drew breath!
What right did he have to –
“Do you know what Hollows are?”
And it was in the detached coldness in which he spoke that froze her rage in place.
Her brows slowly eased, the anger and tension in them giving way to confusion as she registered the question in her mind.
Hollows?
An old chill ran down her spine as she recalled a specific incident, when she was on the run and surviving by herself as a child… of a monstrously grotesque greyish creature with unnatural proportions and haunting, bone-white mask. Her mother had taught her that Hollows were eldritch undead from another world, from beyond the veil of the living. And though the Himejima did have rituals to banish them back to the darkness from which they came, it was said that specific deities of the netherworld often hunted and destroyed the evil spirts. And that they were the only ones truly capable of doing so.
Before she could respond, Lord Ichigo said in a cool and calm voice, “When I was nine years old, I was walking outside with my mother. We were near a river, and I saw a young girl around my age near the water. I though she was in danger and ran towards her but…”
And Akeno genuinely blinked in disbelief because the Demon Lord hesitated, a flicker of emotion she had never expected to see from him briefly flashed through his eyes. “Even as a child I was born with powers, and Hollows are naturally attracted to those kinds of humans. The little girl I saw was actually an illusion, bait for humans with extrasensory powers. My mother tried to stop me, but it was too late, I was well in within its range.”
She felt something all too familiar crawl up er throat, a choking emotion, one tied to very specifically to the worst day of her life.
“My mother had spiritual powers of her own, and she could recognize the Hollow for what it was. She put herself in between me and the Hollow and…”In a deceptively calm motion, Lord Ichigo swept his finger in through the air in a diagonal slash. “Right across the back,” he said tonelessly. “She fell on top of me and I passed out. And by the time I woke up, I was drenched in her blood... and her corpse.”
Akeno felt her chest tighten painfully as his words settled inside her mind, instinctively dredging forth her own memories of blood, screaming, and her mother falling lifelessly to the ground. A suffocating ache crawled up her throat and stole her breath for a moment, leaving her lungs tight and unsteady. Her hands clenched harder in her lap until her nails dug sharply into her palms, but even the sting of pain did little to ground her.
The detached, near conversational tone of his voice somehow made it feel even more real to her. Because a part of her thought to herself that he was fighting down his own choking emotions, his own rage and grief.
And suddenly it made sense.
Because, yes.
He did know.
Lord Ichigo then gave her a knowing and self-deprecating smile. “It’s not even a matter of a debate – had I not fallen for the Hollow’s trickery, I would never have put myself and my mother in danger. Nine years old or not, whether I knew better or not, my actions had consequences. My mother died because of me, and I hated myself for it.”
Akeno opened and closed her mouth several times, her thoughts erratic and lacking cohesion. “Then… how did you… how are you…?”
“How did I move on?” he asked plainly.
Akeno nodded heavily, repeatedly, desperately.
“I didn’t,” he said with a shrug. “And I don’t want to. I don’t ever want to move on from my mother’s murder; it’s shaped me into who I am, profoundly so. But I will tell you something.”
And she shifted closer to the edge of her seat, leaning eagerly for whatever wisdom he could offer her, whatever closure he could potentially grant.
His brown eyes became wistful and nostalgic, and he gave a single, quiet chuckle. “I once asked my dad why he didn’t blame me for my mother’s death. Why no one blamed me. You want to know what he said?”
Her eyes widened in anticipation, and she waited with bated breath.
Lord Ichigo gave her a soft smile. “He said because my mom would be angry with him if he did.”
And she froze, even as her heart thundered in her chest.
But then those brown eyes filled with emotive laughter, and he shook his head with that same, emotion laden smile. “His exact words, and I’ll never forget – ‘It’s not your fault she died. I’m proud of her. The woman I love gave her life trying to protect her child. And don’t forget, that child was you.”
A single warm tear fell from her eye as she stared at the Crown Prince in heartbreak and disbelief.
“She died for you, Himejima, not because of you.”
And just like that, the dam broke. A single tremor passed through her arms, but it was enough to dislodge the tightness in her chest and push it through her constricted throat, and Akeno let out a sob. And within the next second, she was wailing. She was crying out years of grief and angst and all the night of bitter resentment and –
She just missed her mom so much!
Akeno dropped her face into her hands as she let out a keening cry through her tears.
“I want my mom!”
She missed her mom more than anything and she was dead. She was dead and she wasn’t coming back, and Akeno would give anything to have her mother hold her again, laugh with her again, talk with her again. And it wasn’t fair! They didn’t do anything wrong! Her mother did nothing wrong so why did they take her? Why did kill their own family? Why was there no one to stop them? To protect them?
Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?
And she screamed.
And she cried.
And she poured out her heart’s grief before a watchful Satan.
=======
Ichigo watched the poor girl as she cried out for her mother – and far too familiar sentiments and memories welled within his mind. Nevertheless, his survivor’s guilt over his mother’s murder wasn’t nearly as existentially consequential as it was for Akeno. After all, he had been human then, or closer to a pure human than Akeno currently was. What with her Fallen blood and reincarnated Devil soul.
Still, as he watched her keen and call out for her mom, Ichigo’s heart swelled with memories of walking to and from karate practice, hand in hand, with his own mother. And not for the first time did the parallels between Akeno’s story and his own appear stark in his mind.
But then, Set had said something about myths repeating themselves – patterns that frequently manifested within the supernatural. A part of him wondered if his own mythic weight was reaching through Time and Space and influencing the trajectory of this young Devil’s life? It wasn’t impossible, he thought to himself. He was becoming so powerful that metaphysics had begun to reflect his own existence back onto others.
And yet, did that mean Akeno had some part to play in his future? Or was she just another of the countless ripples Ichigo created, and would create, in his wake?
He closed his eyes in a silent sigh, pushing such thoughts away. Now was not the time for philosophical musings.
He turned his full attention back to the teenage girl and her outpouring of pain and anguish, her cries that filled his office and elicited pangs of sympathy from the deepest corners of his soul.
He didn’t say anything, he understood the importance of allowing her to freely express what she felt. Yet, there were a number of things he still needed to do, and – callous though it may be – he could not stay here and comfort the girl for the remainder of the day.
With a twinge of regret, and a silent apology to her in his mind, Ichigo wound a sliver of magic and pressed it into her mind, willing her to fall asleep.
Akeno’s wails quieted off, and her head began to sway as she was pulled into the magical slumber. Akeno then suddenly slumped over, but before she could unceremoniously fall to the floor, a beautiful almond skinned hand gently grabbed the girl’s head.
Ichigo’s office was filled with the scent of the ocean breeze as Tiamat manifested next to the teenage Devil, and with a soft grace, the Dragon sat next to the girl and lay Akeno’s head into her lap. Tiamat then sensibly adjusted the girl’s legs so that they were laid onto the sofa, and Ichigo watched with a fond warmth as Akeno slept peacefully in the embrace of the Primordial of Motherhood.
“The poor child,” Tiamat murmured affectionately as she softly caressed Akeno’s long locks of ebony hair. “To spend so many years haunted by her own mother’s demise. And her father too great a coward to offer the wisdom that yours gave to you, beloved.”
Ichigo let out a sigh as leaned back against his sofa. “Yeah well, questionable fatherhood aside, the major concern for me was to address her self-loathing. If she can stop blaming herself for her mother’s death, then that alone will lift so many mental walls she’s put around her own potential. Her mother died for her, living up to her full potential is the best way to honor that sacrifice.”
Tiamat looked up and gave him a gentle and warm smile. “You were magnificent, beloved. To use your own agony to address the scars in her heart without demeaning or lessening either – it is a mark of great wisdom and courage. I am most proud of you.”
And within the shared confines of their minds, a ringing chime of pooling cool water rang crystal clear, and Ichigo poured his love and appreciation for her words.
Tiamat gently pushed a few stray tresses away from Akeno’s brow and then asked, “But what now? It would not do well to push her directly into honing her edge in combat. Yet time is running short, your gladiatorial games will soon be upon her and young Rias.”
Ichigo rolled his eyes. “They’re not my games; they’ve been around longer than I have.’
Her mouth twisted wryly. “They bear your name, do they not, dearest Satan?”
Ichigo shook his head in exasperation but then set his eyes to the dried tears on Akeno’s cheeks. He ran a hand through his hair and then said, “Well, I’ll give her a few hours to sleep, and maybe some waking hours to think things over. But after that, I’m gonna have to push her into some training.”
“Do you have a method in mind?” Tiamat asked.
“Actually, I was initially going to ask you to help.” And as a fine, white eyebrow rose in response to his words, he quickly explained. “The whole murdered-mother trauma aside, you probably know more about lightning manipulation than anyone else in the Underworld. But I’ve got something a little better in mind now.”
And as the information passed through their minds, Tiamat gave a deft and agreeing nod.
“That will do,” his familiar said without pause. “But, beloved, I can readily see the turmoil in your own self. In soothing the wounds of her heart, you have laid bare ones of your own.”
He gave a snort. “Tell me about it…” But then his expression became wistful and a touch forlorn. “I miss my mom too,” he admitted. “And I did promise to take Yuzu and Karin to the beach.”
Tiamat gave him a look of pure endearment and love. “Back to the mortal world, then.”
“Back to the mortal world,” he agreed.
Back to Karakura Town.
=======
A/N: A long chapter with a lot happening. Set contiues to be an absolute bro and Cao Cao is feeling uncertain/insecure about his place in humanity because Ichigo subverts his expectations of how life is supposed to unfold.
The latter half of this chapter was definitely one of the more emotional ones I've written. A part of me knows I could write more, to expand more on the grief and loss, but eventually I had to stop myself and be content with what I had written. As much as I enjoy writing the parallels of Ichigo and Akeno's respective trauma's and personal tragedies, the plot need move forward.
Maybe in the future I'll write a separate story with an Ichigo x Akeno pairing to explore the psychologies of the two characters. Within DMAW, I am somewhat leaning to adding her to the Ichigo's - ahem - harem. Let me know if you all would like to see more exploration and depth between Akeno and Ichigo.
Have a lovely weekend!