It turned out Ichigo wasn’t able to immediately depart for Karakura Town. Even as he was making preparations and giving out explicit orders to Meril, Falbium had contacted him about an Old Satan stronghold that he needed immediately destroyed. Being the responsible and (occasional) carnage enjoying Satan that he was, Ichigo readily agreed to Falbium’s request to provide military support.
Which is why he currently found himself standing in a military airship stationing thousands of Devils, floating in a magical subspace.
“My Lord!”
Ichigo turned expectantly and saw Jaqrin Vassago, the younger brother of the current Duke Vassago and holder of four of Falbium’s Pawn pieces, quickly stride up to him. Jaqrin gave him a quick and short bow before standing to attention.
“Thank you for your aid, my Lord.”
Ichigo waved him off. “Don’t worry about it, I told Falbium I’d help on the frontlines whenever he needed it. So, what’s the situation? I was told there’s a stronghold we need to destroy?”
The Devil nodded and waved his hand, conjuring a magical projection of a country-wide map. “Our spies have discovered a critical dimensional pass where much of the Old Satan Faction’s supply routes flow through.” He then zoomed in onto the map to highlight a fortified citadel. “High Command has deemed that destroying it will push the Old Satan Faction into further desperation. Lord Falbium stated that you would understand the significance.”
Ichigo nodded to himself. In order for Sirzechs’ trap in Malebolge to be fully sprung, the Old Satan Faction needed to be pushed to the utter brink, to ensure that they would have no choice but to take the bait. Of course, no one but the Five Satans knew that there even was a trap. The rest of the military and the Upper Nobility merely assumed that the Satans were pushing the offensive as hard as possible.
Which wasn’t even remotely true considering he was the only one on the front lines. If all five of the current Crown Princes, and their respective peerages, mobilized for war, then that would be considered total war. But if they did that, the descendants of the Old Satans would merely go into hiding. No, Ichigo and the others needed to lure them out of hiding into the open; to enter their territory so they could snuff them out once and for all.
“So, I just need to blow up a single dimension?” He asked, leaning forward to carefully analyze the map and commit its details to memory.
Jaqrin paused in surprise for a moment. “…the eleventh fleet is at your complete command, sire.”
“Oh, that won’t be necessary,” Ichigo said dismissively. But, realizing his words may sound a touch insulting, he added, “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate our military, but if Falbium’s asked for my direct presence, then it’s because he wants something a little excessive.” Ichigo then put a comforting hand on Jarqin’s shoulder. “It’s easier for me if I don’t have to hold back, for fear of friendly fire.”
Especially given there was nothing friendly about his fire.
Jaqrin knew that well enough, and much to Ichigo’s amusement, he could see the younger Vassago doing his best to keep from sighing from exasperation. Being part of Falbium’s peerage, Jaqrin no doubt knew about how eccentric and over-the-top the Satans tended to be.
“As you command, my Lord,” the Pawn said without a hint of resignation.
Ichigo gave him a sympathetic pat and said, “Stay in subspace and target anyone who may try to escape from the pocket dimension. But make sure to keep at a safe distance, I don’t want the fleet to get caught up in the aftershocks of the dimensional collapse.”
“Of course, my Lord. Satan-speed.”
Ichigo gave a deft nod and easily slipped through space.
=======
Ichigo floated wordlessly within the Dimensional Gap, his mien set perfectly neutral as his hands were cozily deposited inside the pockets of his jacket.
According to most magiographers and metaphysicists, the Dimensional Gap was an extension of the Void of Ophis into extant reality; the impossible spaces between various dimensions and realities that made up the multiverse. It sat at the outermost edge of physical reality, just beneath the threshold of the Fourth Dimension, where the infinite branches of time extended into each and every possibility of each and every single reality.
Whenever Ichigo found himself crossing through the Dimensional Gap, he always had the strange sensation of swimming through thick, viscous, waters. Yet there was no true water here, only the impossible stretching of the extreme ends of physical space. And strangely enough, it was oddly beautiful, in a sense. The Gap appeared like a vast kaleidoscope of melting colors that constantly bled into one another in slow, dreamlike currents. Crimson dissolved into turquoise, gold folded into violet, entire spectrums beyond the human eye twisting and reforming without pattern or logic.
But in that moment, Ichigo’s full attention was on the Space-Time fabricant that was the pocket dimension of the Old Satan Faction. Unlike the limitless and infinite boundaries of a genuine reality, it instead resembled a bubble suspended within the shifting colors. Nonetheless, it was still enormous in scope, easily rivaling the span of nations in scale. Its surface undulated endlessly with iridescent silver waves that folded into themselves, like liquid mercury flowing endlessly. Space bent unnaturally around it, causing entire sections to overlap and distort, folding in on themselves in a complete violation of Euclidean geometry.
Very briefly, Ichigo thought it was somewhat of a shame to destroy something so beautiful. But it was one of a million other pocket dimensions floating in the Dimensional Gap, hardly unique. Not to mention, it was a crossroads of supply routes for the Rebels amassed against the Devil Empire.
With little fanfare, Ichigo summoned the oceans of demonic power resting within his soul, and the colors of the Gap darkened and dulled as they fell under Satan’s shadow.
=======
Miravel adjusted the stack of documents pressed tightly against her chest as she walked through the broad corridors of the governmental palace, her pace steady and familiar as countless officials, soldiers and attendants passed by her beneath the crimson chandeliers hanging from the vaulted ceiling above. Beyond the tall arched windows stretched the sprawling capital of Marilixx, a city of shining towers, elevated bridges and glowing canals of crystal light that cut through the heart of the hidden sub-dimension like veins of fire.
She had spent her entire life here.
Marilixx had endured untouched through both the ancient Civil War and the modern conflict now spreading across the Underworld because secrecy was its greatest defense. Hidden within the folds of the Dimensional Gap and buried beneath layers upon layers of magical encryption, the pocket dimension served as one of the most important logistical nexuses of the Loyalist Empire. Smugglers, mercenaries, black market syndicates and rogue magi all passed through its trade routes daily, bringing unimaginable wealth and resources into the hands of the Old Satan Faction.
And Miravel’s job was to catalogue it all; she wasn’t suited to frontline fighting and logistics were just as important as a powerful spell!
The work itself was dull at times, but she enjoyed the stability of it. Her husband Corvix often teased her that one of them spent their days chasing ledgers while the other spent his chasing criminals that made it into the ledgers. Yet despite the dangerous reputation of Marilixx’s traffic, they had built a good life together within the hidden world.
Which was why the sudden heat unsettled her so deeply.
Miravel slowed near one of the windows and frowned faintly as warmth brushed uncomfortably against her skin. At first, she thought little of it, merely assuming one of the atmospheric runic arrays was malfunctioning. The climate of the pocket dimension was magically regulated at all times, carefully controlled to maintain stable temperatures throughout the year, but even magical systems occasionally required maintenance.
Still, the air felt strangely heavy.
Her brows furrowed slightly. Then the floor beneath her feet trembled.
A startled gasp escaped her lips as the corridor shook hard enough to throw her off balance. The documents slipped from her grasp and scattered across the polished floor while she reached instinctively toward the wall beside her to steady herself.
Shock spread visibly across her face, because pocket dimensions did not experience tectonic activity. Because there were no tectonics to speak of! What was going on?
A cold knot formed in her stomach as she slowly lifted her gaze toward the city beyond the window, and somewhere deep within her soul a primal instinct began clawing violently against her thoughts, screaming wordlessly that something was wrong.
Terribly wrong.
Miravel sucked in a sharp breath just as another tremor rippled through the dimension, this one so violent that the entire palace groaned around her. Chandeliers swayed overhead while cracks spread through sections of the stone walls, and all throughout the corridor frightened screams erupted from nearby Devils as servants and officials alike stumbled in panic.
And outside, the sky had begun to change.
The artificial skies of Marilixx slowly darkened into a deep infernal red, and the temperature continued climbing with horrifying speed until sweat poured freely down Miravel’s face. The air itself now felt scorching against her lungs, thick and oppressive like the breath of an enormous furnace.
She could hear screaming from the streets below as chaos began to unfold amongst the populace.
Her hands trembling, Miravel hurriedly reached into her robes and fumbled for the communication device she kept in her pockets. After several frantic attempts she activated it, relief flooding through her chest when Corvix’s voice finally crackled through the crystal.
“Mira?!”
“Corvix!” she cried out immediately. “What’s going on? The city is—”
“We’re under attack!” he shouted over the deafening chaos in the background. She could hear explosions, alarms and distant screams behind his voice. “Mira, get to the evacuation cen—”
The transmission abruptly died.
“Corvix?” she whispered fearfully before panic seized her entirely. “Corvix! Corvix!”
Only static answered her.
Miravel’s breathing quickened as she realized the dimension’s ambient magic had become unstable enough to interfere with long-range communication.
Then came another quake.
This time the tremor arrived alongside a deafening explosion so immense it rattled the palace to its foundations and shattered the windows. Miravel turned toward the window just in time to see one of the distant mountains violently tear free from the earth itself.
Her thoughts halted, and she stood frozen in horror as she failed to make sense of the sight.
The colossal mass of stone rose slowly into the burning red sky before fracturing apart midair, enormous chunks breaking away as molten fire erupted upward from beneath the shattered foundations of the world. Across the city below, panic had fully consumed the streets as thousands of Devils fled in every direction while the ground split apart beneath them.
Gigantic fissures tore through districts and towers alike, chasms so enormous that entire buildings disappeared into their depths while titanic waves of lava burst upward from below. Fire began falling from the heavens in burning torrents that crashed into the cityscape and spread endlessly outward.
Everywhere she looked, something was burning.
Miravel then screamed as blistering heat tore across her hands, the skin along her fingers reddening and bubbling while a searing wind surged through the shattered windows and scorched the side of her face. Beyond the palace walls an enormous firestorm rolled across the city, swallowing streets, towers and fleeing crowds beneath an ocean of infernal flame.
And as the burning horizon rushed toward her with unstoppable speed, a single terrified thought echoed through Miravel’s mind.
Is this Hell?
=======
Jaqrin Vassago stood at the front of the command center of his ship, and along with the rest of the crew, he watched with grim amazement and wonder as Lord Ichigo tore an entire dimension apart.
“Lucifer.”
One of the officers breathed in awe, and that was enough to start a rush of whispered murmurs amongst the crew.
It wasn’t the first time he had seen the horrific might of a Crown Prince at work, being a direct subject of Lord Falbium Asmodeus that he was. Still, it was remarkably unnerving to realize that Lord Ichigo could float in subspace and rip an entire dimension to shreds with nothing but his mythical weight.
And he hadn’t so much as moved a finger.
No, the Demon Lord extended his power and surrounded the dimension with his presence, using the sheer density and immense pressure of his demonic power to annihilate the entire Space-Time structure.
“Look alive,” he suddenly barked, pushing past his own shock. “Make sure no one manages to flee His Highness’ onslaught!”
As if there was even a possibility of survivors.
=======
Akeno stirred groggily and slowly pushed herself upright, still heavy with sleep as she planted one hand against the couch to keep herself steady while the other rose to rub tiredly at her eyes. As she did so, however, she suddenly paused and inhaled softly through her nose, her expression shifting into faint confusion as she caught the unmistakable scent of sea salt carried upon a faint breeze. The smell was oddly soothing to her senses, cool and comforting and filling her with a lightness, making her feel as if something heavy had been taken off her chest. Yet it only deepened her bewilderment as she blinked the remnants of sleep from her eyes and looked around the dimly lit room.
And after a few sluggish moments, realization slowly settled in as she recognized Lord Ichigo’s office around her.
Oh crap! I fell asleep in front of a Crown Prince!?
However, despite her moment of immense mortification and bewilderment, Akeno was brought out of her thoughts as she heard the soft scratching of a pen. She turned around and was stunned by the sight of Lord Ichigo sitting at his desk, going through a stack of papers.
She blinked slowly; she never thought she’d see the day where Satan would do something as mundane as paperwork.
But then, the rest of her brain managed to catch up with her eyes, and she hastily stood straight and dipped into a low bow, her face burning crimson in embarrassment.
Oh Lucifer, I fell asleep in front of him? I didn’t drool did I?
“L-Lord Ichigo!” and Akeno winced as her still sleepy voice came out as a high-pitched squeak. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to fall asleep during our meeting! Please forgive me!”
Without looking up from his paperwork, the Demon Lord said in a noncommittal voice, “Don’t worry about it. More importantly, how are you feeling?”
She stared at him absently for a moment. How was she feeling?
Gradually, the memories of their conversation flitted back in and, again, she felt her cheeks burn in embarrassment as she recalled breaking down in tears and crying for her mother. On one hand, she was beyond touched that he would share his own appalling history with her. Never in a million years would Akeno have assumed that she and Lord Ichigo had such similar pasts; that both their childhoods were shaped by the same tragedy.
Trauma bonding with Satan was not her bingo card for the year… or ever.
Still, Akeno took immense pride in carrying herself with dignity and grace. Her ‘onee-sama’ demeanor was something she had carefully cultivated. Falling apart into a weeping mess in front of one of the Empire’s leading figures, especially the man she was crushing on, she couldn’t help but feel utterly mortified.
That being said… Akeno gripped one of her elbows, feeling a hint of uncertainty.
“I…” she bit her lower lip. “I’m not sure how I feel.”
The Demon finally looked up, and as those weighty brown eyes met hers, Akeno couldn’t help the blush that dusted her cheeks.
Lord Ichigo let out a soft hum and said, “Well, that’s not unusual. It’s like I said last time, I don’t expect you to come to some sort of grand, life-changing epiphany in the span of a single conversation. That being said, I hope you’ve at least considered looking at things through a new perspective?”
“Yes sir,” she said with a slow nod. And honestly? Lord Ichigo’s words were probably some of the kindest she’d ever heard in her life. The catharsis she felt from that single sentence, ‘She died for you, Himejima, not because of you’ was beyond what she could express.
She still felt that horrible guilt, she still blamed herself. But somehow, with those few sentences, the man had given her a sense of levity she had not felt since she had last hugged her mother. Also, there was that strange ocean breeze scent in the air… why did it remind her of her mom? She couldn’t ever remember visiting the sea with her mother.
The salty scent was so bizarre yet comforting. She had half a mind to ask the Demon Lord what it was because the aroma certainly hadn’t been in his office before.
“That’s good,” Lord Ichigo said. “And, while I would like to give you the proper time to reflect and rationalize your feelings, we are working on a strict time schedule.”
Right, the Rating Game Tournament that was in a few days. The rest of her peerage was busy training hard from what Lord Ichigo said, and here she was busy drowning in her own emotions.
Her hand clenched tightly, and the smiling face of her best friend Rias flashed through her mind.
Rias who had taken her in: who had given her food and shelter and the very clothes on her back. Rias who had, without hesitation or question, freely gave Akeno anything she ever wanted and never asked for anything in return. Rias who had given her all the affection in the world after it had been so horrendously robbed from her.
She owed Rias better – her friend, her sister, her master.
“Oh?” And the Demon Lord looked at her shrewdly. “Seems you’ve found your resolve.”
Yes, yes she had. Akeno wanted power, Akeno craved control. And she would have both, especially over herself. No more feeling sorry for herself. No more denying and locking away her own strength over her sense of shame and self-deprecation. No more ruining herself because she shared blood with that man.
Akeno grit her teeth.
“I want power.”
And Satan’s eyes briefly flashed crimson, a satisfied smirk playing across his lips.
Lord Ichigo then stood from his chair and proceeded to walk through his desk and over towards her.
Okay, that was kind of hot, she thought to herself.
He then took out his phone and idly sent a series of text messages before waiting a few seconds. However, when his phone vibrated as he received a response, he nodded to himself and put it back in his pocket.
“Alright then,” he said. “We’ve got an hour until your trainer arrives.”
She looked at him curiously. “My trainer?”
“Yup.”
“May I ask who, sir?”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said shaking his head. “You’ll see soon enough.”
Akeno went briefly contemplative, and, before he could say or do anything else, she quickly said, “Sir, I just want to say th-thank you.”
And her cheeks colored pink as she mumbled out the last few words, looking away from his suddenly amused expression.
He gave her a solemn gaze and, rather neutrally, said, “Well, for whatever it’s worth, I am your legal guardian. No need to thank me for doing my job.”
But Akeno shook her head. “What you’ve done, what you’ve shared… that goes beyond just responsibility.” She tucked a loose strand behind her hair and gave him a soft smile. “I know how busy you are, it means a lot that you’re taking so much of your time to personally help me.”
He regarded her flatly for a few seconds before he spoke dryly, “Don’t get too touched, I’m not even fully here.”
Her brows furrowed in confusion. “Sir?”
Lord Ichigo rubbed the back of his head and said, “This is just a facsimile - the real me, or rather, most of me, left for the frontlines against the Old Satan Faction while you were asleep.”
Her befuddlement only grew, and it must have shown on her face because he sighed and said, “When you get to be as strong as I am, you can exist in multiple places at once. As you grow more powerful, you’ll come to realize the limitations of time and space start meaning less and less. But that’s a lesson for when you’re at the deep end of Ultimate-class.”
Her eyes briefly widened at the revelation, and she felt a slight pang of disappointment and hurt at the notion that Lord Ichigo wasn’t here in entirety. That she wasn’t the sole focus of attention. But as the thought rang hollow in her head, she quickly pushed it down and felt a bubble of frustration rise against herself.
The man was a Satan; he had endless responsibilities and countless people who relied on him. How could she be so petulant as to demand his entire attention when he already gave up so much of his time, and his personal history, when asking for nothing in return?
No, having such petty feelings was disrespectful towards Lord Ichigo and a disservice to herself.
And as she resolved to push past those childish attachments, Lord Ichigo looked over and gazed at the clock on his wall.
He let out a hum and said, “It’s getting late, and I’ve already kept you for several hours now. Come on, let’s get you dinner. My treat.”
Akeno’s eyes flew wide and she began to shake her head furiously, her long ponytail swaying heavily in the motion. “No, that’s alright, sir! You’ve already done so much, I couldn’t possib-”
But the Demon Lord silenced her with a single, pointed look. “You’ve been through one hell of an emotional day and in less than an hour’s time you’re gonna be in a heavy training exercise. You need food.”
She opened her mouth to protest, because really, she felt as if she had already inconvenienced him more than enough. But before she could let out another word, he put a hand on her shoulder and whisked her away.
=======
Rias staggered backwards across the warped lilac landscape, her breathing ragged and uneven as blood dripped slowly from the corner of her mouth and splattered onto the strangely smooth ground beneath her feet. Every muscle in her body ached from the relentless barrage of attacks, and her left arm hung stiffly at her side, the limb having been afflicted with a petrification curse. Her entire arm, from the elbow down, was now a dull grey stone due to one of her grandmother’s foul sorceries.
Across from her, Gremory stood poised and elegant in her black dress, a faint smile resting upon her red lips even as those vivid green eyes remained utterly void of emotion. There was no strain on her expression, no indication whatsoever that the ancient Demon was even remotely exerting any effort.
And why would she be? One of the oldest Demons, turned by Lucifer himself, and one of the few who survived the apocalypse of the Great War. Rias was under no illusion there that there was anything she could do against the monster that was her progenitor.
Her grandmother’s mere presence saturated the dimension with a suffocating pressure that clustered in Rias’ lungs and made every breath feel heavy and taxing.
“Again,” Gremory said tonelessly.
And instantly a dozen ripples of magic formed over her head.
Rias barely had time to react before spears of lightning tore through the air towards her. She hastily raised a barrier, only for the bolts to abruptly curve around it midflight and slam into her side hard enough to send her skidding across the ground, causing her to let out a cry of pain.
Before she could even regain her footing, torrents of black fire erupted beneath her feet.
Rias launched herself backward on instinct, but the flames twisted unnaturally and chased after her like lunging serpents, and before she could even take three steps, a thick tendril of water suddenly coiled around her ankle and sent her flying away.
Rias’ face crashed against the ground as she rolled from the force of being thrown. But her instincts screamed at her even as she came to a stop and immediately, she rolled to the side, just as jagged pillars of ice exploded upward where she had landed a second earlier.
I’m going to be killed by own grandmother at this rate!
Gritting her teeth through the pain, Rias thrust out her lone functioning arm and unleashed a volley of rotating crimson missiles that screamed through the air toward Gremory, each one crackling with the Bael family’s signature Power of Destruction.
However, her grandmother merely raised a pale hand with effortless grace, and Rias felt her own magic robbed of her will. The missiles distorted midflight, flesh and fur rapidly overtaking burning power until a pack of massive red wolves slammed onto the ground instead, their glowing jaws frothing as savage snarls tore from their throats. And before Rias could even process what had happened, the beasts were already charging straight back toward her.
In a moment of dismay, Rias sincerely hoped the rest of her peerage was having a much easier time than she was.
=======
Issei threw his head back and let out a triumphant yell as he beat his new wings against the air and surged upward through the black clouds, crimson armor gleaming brilliantly around his body while draconic power thundered through his veins. He could feel it everywhere inside himself, an overwhelming rush of heat and strength that made his heart pound wildly against his ribs, as though a miniature sun had ignited within his chest and was feeding endless energy into every fiber of his being.
He had finally unlocked Boosted Gear’s Balance Breaker!
Confidence swelled violently alongside it, hot-blooded and reckless, and before common sense could catch up with his mouth, Issei thrust a fist into the sky and shouted, “Buchou’s virginity will be mine!”
Unfortunately for him, the universe immediately punished him for his arrogance.
A colossal black claw suddenly tore through the clouds above and wrapped around his body with crushing force, and the only thought that crossed Issei’s mind was a terrified uh-oh before So’unga slammed him clean through the side of a mountain.
As pain exploded throughout his body and a concussed fog covered his mind, he at least consoled himself with the fact that the rest of his fellow peerage were going through equally grueling tribulations.
=======
Is this a date?
Akeno looked at the Demon Lord casually reclining in his chair, phone in one hand and a milkshake in the other. She then looked down at her own milkshake, placed on the small table where they were both sitting down at, outside of the small burger joint in the city of Fellgrand.
Lord Ichigo had taken her to a local spot he claimed was a personal favorite of his and had told her to order whatever she wanted. And after eating a humble cheeseburger – which really did taste quite exceptional – with a full side of crisp and seasoned fries, they had both ordered a pair of milkshakes for themselves.
And he had paid for everything.
He hadn’t said much, staying quiet for the most part as they ate together, but he did ask her some choice questions about how she was spending her days in Grevex. She told him about the job she snagged as a receptionist at a spa, and he had listened with a surprising amount of attentiveness. And though she wasn’t daring enough to ask him about his personal life, he had already shared enough for her to appreciate him for several lifetimes, Akeno did notice an amused and easy expression on his lips when she brought up encounters with a few outrageous customers.
And given the amount of attention he had paid her while she talked about such mundane things, she couldn’t help but think –
This is totally a date.
Lord Ichigo suddenly looked up to his phone, an expectant expression on his face as he gazed out into the street. Akeno followed his gaze to find a tall woman running up to the two of them, her expression hurried and searching.
But as she saw them, she brightened and cheerfully waved as she approached before falling into a quick and clean bow at the waist.
“Hello, Lord Ichigo! I’m honored to see you again!”
She was a tall woman with waist-length black hair and pale skin, dressed in sleek dark clothing beneath an oversized white coat, carrying an effortlessly cool and exuberant confidence.
Honestly, she was so pretty and well-dressed, Akeno would have thought her a model. But then, there was something strangely familiar about the woman. Something in her aura which she could very nearly recognize.
Before Akeno could inquire about the woman’s identity, Lord Ichigo scowled and quickly waved her off. “Try not to draw too much attention, I don’t need crowds of fanatic cultists approaching me.”
The woman straightened with a nervous laugh. “Sorry, my Lord! I’m just so stoked I can be of personal service to a Satan!”
Lord Ichigo then turned towards her and said, “Anyways, I’d like you to meet Diana Romero; Diana, this is Akeno Himejima, your soon to be student.”
“Awesome!” The young woman exclaimed with a bright smile as she reached out with a hand. “Super nice to meet you!”
This was the person who was going to be training her? Akeno’s thoughts were tinted with a bit of incredulity; she seemed a little too… energetic? Bubbly? Nearly everyone she met who had been associated with Lord Ichigo was either grim or condescending in some fashion. This was the first friendly face she had seen around him.
Tentatively, Akeno reached out with a polite smile. But as soon as their hands clasped, her smile slid away as that familiar feeling made itself known to her.
“You’re a Fallen,” she said, a touch of accusation coloring her tone.
But Diana didn’t seem to catch it as she just smiled brighter instead, rubbing the back of her head sheepishly as she did so. “Half-right! My mom’s the Cadre Penemue! And my dad was a human Spaniard from the sixteenth century!”
“She’s also one of Ruval Phenex’s Bishops,” Lord Ichigo said, a single eyebrow raised in censure as he definitely caught her less than polite tone. Akeno slightly wilted under his gaze. “Diana is currently ranked fourth in the individual rankings for Bishops in the Rating Games. And she’s a two-time MVP of the Decade.”
“Aww shucks! I’m totally blushing!” The beautiful girl said as she pressed her sleeve covered palms to both cheeks. “Getting praised by a Crown Prince is already turning this gig into a career highlight!”
But Akeno’s eyes widened at the information; while she had nothing but disdain for Riser Phenex, his eldest brother was one of the Top 10 rankers in the Rating Games, widely considered one of the Empire’s strongest among the younger generations. And for Diana to be ranked the fourth overall Bishop in the current rankings of the Rating Games…
She was not pushover.
Lord Ichigo then looked back down at his phone and grimaced. “Well, I’m needed elsewhere, so I’ll keep this short: Diana here is going to help you master your Fallen abilities, Himejima. Given how little time we have until the tournament, I’ve gone ahead and procured a time-dilated dimension for the both of you.” And he took out a small cube glowing a green color. “One whole week packed into twenty-four hours. Don’t waste it.”
“Yessir!” Diana said with a sharp salute. “I’ll be sure to give the best training to my baby cousin!”
Akeno’s head whipped in the older woman’s direction. “Cousin?” she said incredulously.
“Of course!” The other hybrid said with a sharp nod. “Your dad is my mom’s sibling! Well, all first gen Fallen are siblings, so naturally we’re cousins!”
Akeno’s mouth fell open in wonder at having this sudden ‘cousin’ thrust into her life.
“I’ll be off then, good luck,” Lord Ichigo said.
“Wait!” Akeno exclaimed loudly as she shot to her feet as the Demon Lord made to leave, and she blushed embaressed as her outburst drew several curious eyes.
But as Lord Ichigo looked at her expectedly, Akeno managed to stammer out, “D-do you have any advice? Given how much we have in common – I-I mean in terms of s-stuff! Things we’ve been through.”
And as brown eyes fell on her, Akeno shivered as she felt him stare right through her flesh and down into the deepest depths of her soul.
“Abandon your fear.”
She shivered at the sheer crushing gravity he carried in his gaze, and the intense solemnity he spoke with.
“Look forward, move forward. And never stop.”
And just like that, the Crown Prince vanished.
=======
As Ichigo stepped into Yasaka’s office, Tiamat a second behind him, he beheld his wife scrawling away on a scroll, her desk covered in stacks of paper. He felt a momentary pang of sympathy for her – having left a clone of himself in the Underworld to take care of his own government responsibilities.
“Hey there, princess,” he greeted warmly.
Yasaka looked up briefly and flashed him with a smile and gave Tiamat a polite nod as her eyes settled behind him. She then let out a sigh and said, “Give me a moment, I’ll be with you shortly.”
Ichigo merely nodded in response and crossed his arms, content to wait patiently. Tiamat, on the other hand, easily strode over to one of the sofas and sat down – her head resting lazily against a fist as she closed her eyes.
He suppressed a chuckle at the sight, the blatant image that perfectly encapsulated both of his girls. Yasaka, eyes narrowed in deep conversation as she immersed herself with innumerable responsibilities of her office, and Tiamat, who sat uncaring and unbothered of all around her.
And, of course, he stood between them. Just as immersed as Yasaka in his own duties, while possessing more than a hint of Tiamat’s cavalier persona. They really were perfect for him.
Several quiet moments passed, as Yasaka’s brush continued to scrawl fresh ink across numerous documents, and as soon as one was finished, one of her tails would grab another and place it before her. It really seemed as if there was no end to her workload.
Quietly, Ichigo strode over to her desk and peered down, trying to read the upside-down characters. It was rude and borderline espionage for him to read Yasaka’s official documents, but hey – he was Satan. Besides, it’s not like he would ever do anything detrimental for his wife and his own home country. He may be a Demonic King of the Underworld now, but he was still Japanese in his heart.
But as his eyes read of the characters, Ichigo’s mouth turned into a small frown. “Issues in Hokkaido?”
Yasaka looked at him with a mildly annoyed glare. “Yes,” she said with a huff. “Delegations with the remnants of the Ainu are reporting of unrest. We’re trying to convince them to ignore any contact from Tsukiyomi-sama’s side.”
Ichigo let out a thoughtful hum. The Ainu were the natives of Hokkaido and had their own pantheon prior to the Shinto conquest and assimilation in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. It was one of the more… questionable and belligerent parts of Yasaka’s reign over mythic Japan. The Ainu were essentially stripped of autonomy and cultural identity, forcibly absorbed and integrated under Takamagahara’s control.
Not that Ichigo was about to throw stones, not when he came from the most reviled mythos in this corner of the universe.
“Want me to go scare them?” he offered.
“No!” Yasaka’s head immediately shot up, her expression both stern and alarmed. “I’ve… I’ve done enough to antagonize them over the centuries. Sending my literal Demon of a husband as a threat; no, they’ve done nothing to earn such harsh treatment.”
Ichigo raised a brow in response to her words but said nothing more. Yasaka, in her youth, was far more of a firebrand than she was now, his wife once reigned over mythic Japan with iron resolve and a merciless outlook. But the centuries, and more importantly, motherhood, had softened her and made her far more empathetic towards the people she ruled.
Nevertheless, these were dangerous and chaotic times, especially with a civil war on the brink. A part of him wanted to push her to think more harshly, but he trusted in her wisdom. And he respected her decision to be kind.
A decision that was sorely needed in the world, he thought to himself.
Yasaka then put down her brush and leaned back into her chair, closing her eyes in a silent sigh, and he watched as she took in slow breaths, circulating her chakra to clam and center her mind.
“Not that I don’t appreciate it,” she said as her golden eyes opened. “But what brings you back to Kyoto? I was under the impression the Underworld was equally as hectic.”
He gave an uncaring shrug. “We’ve set the board, now we’re just waiting for a response.”
She regarded him carefully, and slowly he reached out with his mind, brushing against the warm radiance that was her own psychic presence. And as she allowed him to slip past her mental defenses, Ichigo slowly let a few choice memories from the past several days enter her mind.
As she carefully digested what he shared with her, Yasaka’s eyes shone with numerous expressions until, finally, she settled on a forlorn yet affectionate smile.
“Oh honey, that was incredibly sweet of you to share your past with that poor girl,” Yasaka said, a touch of her own maternal radiance shining through.
“So, I’ve been told,” he said with a chuckle, casting a glance at the still aloof dragon with her eyes shut.
“You’re going to visit your mother’s grave, then?” Yasaka asked.
Ichigo nodded firmly.
“That’s good. You really should spend more time with your mortal family,” Yasaka responded, but soon her expression became a trace bit mischievous. “But pray tell, when are you going to finally introduce me to my in-laws?”
That got a reaction from Tiamat, who instantly snorted mockingly. “Even with me, he would prefer I stay locked in his bedroom, lest I embarrass him in front of his sisters.”
He turned towards Tiamat, looking mildly offended. “Hold up! You’re the one who stayed in bed most of the time because you were too lazy to come down! And all I asked was that you be a little less…”
“Sublime?” She asked challengingly.
“Arrogant,” he shot back immediately. As much as he loved Tiamat, Ichigo would be the first to admit that his Dragon King did not blend in well with human society. It didn’t help she made no attempt to either; Tiamat cared little for social norms given she tended to outlive them all.
Tiamat rolled her eyes and proceeded to examine her nails dismissively.
“Is that what it is, dear?” Yasaka said with a deceptively light tone. “Are you embarrassed to introduce me to your family?”
“What? No!” He immediately protested.
She gave him a doubtful look. “Or is it that you’re struggling to explain to your family the circumstances of your sudden marriage? Am I to be kept in the dark as your other woman? The lawful wife who fails to garner his affections while he parades around with his mistress?”
Ichigo looked dumbfounded at her for a heavy second. Where did this sudden J-drama like plot come from?
“Parade?” Tiamat then said derisively. “As if he did not push me away and forbade intercourse for the full duration of our visit.”
As he looked back and forth between the two gorgeous supernatural beauties, Ichigo couldn’t help but feel utterly flabbergasted.
“He did?” Yasaka said, as her hand went to her mouth in shock.
“Indeed,” Tiamat said, a cold aversion entering her voice. “He then proceeded to make eyes at some childhood flame, spend the evening gazing up at the moon with her, and then he had the gall to come crawling back into bed in the dead of night.”
Ichigo froze in place even as Yasaka let out a startled gasp. That… wasn’t entirely untrue.
“He really refused you to spend the night with another woman?” Yasaka asked scandalized.
“Okay, first off,” he started, panic beginning to creep into his voice, “I have enough trauma as it is, I don’t need the added catastrophe of my dad, or worse, my sisters, walking in on me having sex in my childhood bed. Secondly, we were literally just talking about the past! You know, that period of time before I met either of you? And third… what the Hell is going on? Are you two seriously ganging up on me?”
Tiamat contemptuously threw her hair over her shoulder and glared at him. “Did you think we would utter no grievance ever more after sharing a bed for a lone day?”
What? No, he never thought th-
“That we would be blind to all your actions and follow you with hearts in our eyes like the gaggle of simpering teenage girls you’ve suddenly acquired?” Yasaka said sternly as she crossed her arms.
“No!” He said heatedly. And fuck - out of all the ways taking Sona and Rias under wing could backfire on him, he never once considered this would be one of them. “I’ve never once thought something like that!”
But Yasaka ignored him and turned her gaze towards Tiamat. “You would think after we gave him our word that we would unconditionally support each other in the coming chaos, that he would have the spine to admit to his own family his two-timing nature.”
Two-timing!? He wasn’t a two-ti… okay, maybe he was. But that wasn’t why he hadn’t said anything to his sisters! Yes, it was an irrefutably awkward conversation to bring up with the twins, but it was more of a matter of him trying to avoid dragging Yuzu and Karin into the greater supernatural! The more of a mundane and human life his sisters lived, the better off they were, in his opinion.
Tiamat responded to Yasaka’s word with an indifferent, “The capricious nature of Demons. We have only ourselves to blame in our poor choice of mate.”
Yasaka put a hand to her cheek and sighed melodramatically. “Speak for yourself, I had no choice in the matter. Stuck that I am with our egregious adulterer by divine decree.”
“I would argue I share in your misery,” Tiamat said as she idly rubbed a long lock of her white hair between her fingers. “Ordained by destiny to stand by his side; ever in the shadow of the throes of women desperate for his bed.”
And just like that, whatever indignation and genuine concern he was feeling melted away, and Ichigo rolled his eyes in exasperation. They were clearly teasing him.
“When, in all of history, have you ever been in anyone’s shadow?” He asked sardonically. “Also, are we done having fun at my expense?”
They met eyes once again, and both women smiled imperceptibly before Yasaka rose to her feet with a small laugh.
“I am, of course, joking, dear,” she said, as she came around her desk and stood before him, habitually reaching out and tidying the collar of his jacket. “I will respect whatever decision you make regarding your mortal family.” She then gave him a small peck on the lips, before pulling back and looking him in the eye. “But it would be nice to introduce myself to them at some point. I think it is only fair. At the very least your father, who was raised in the old ways. I would also like to pay my respects to my mother-in-law, with you by my side, of course.”
“Yeah,” Ichigo said softly, his hands reaching for her waist. “Once all this crap is cleaned up, we’re all going to sit down and make introductions. If anything, the sheer chaos of Kunou meeting her new aunts will be worth watching.”
Yasaka let out a delighted laugh, no doubt imagining the havoc the little vixen would unleash in her excitement.
And, in less than a second’s time, Tiamat moved from the couch to stand next to him, her fingers slipping into the hair on the back of his head.
“For what it’s worth, beloved,” her sapphire eyes shining with mirth, “you are delightfully adorable when flustered.”
“Gee, thanks,” he said dryly. “You know, just because I can regrow my heart, doesn’t mean you can give me a heart attack whenever.”
Tiamat let out a soft purr and kissed him on the cheek. “Alas, never will come the day where I shall not worry you.”
He sighed and unwound one of his arms from Yasaka’s waist and wrapped it around Tiamat’s, pulling her close against his chest as he leaned down and kissed her head. Yeah, that was quite the certainty. Tiamat would forever be his headache, and he’d never have it any other way.
Enjoying the moment of having them both pressed against his sides, Ichigo stood silent for a few seconds before looking out the window of Yasaka’s office and the setting sun giving way to the night.
“Actually,” he said absently, “since I have you both here, there’s an idea I want to run by the two of you.”
They both looked up at him in question.
“So, here’s the thing…”
=======
As Ichigo walked down the street, hand in hand with Tiamat – his other holding a duffle bag - he looked at her from the corner of his eye and saw her deep in pensive thought. And through their mental bond, he could sense tens of thousands of ideas flitting through her mind, even as she attempted to divine the future and see what winding paths his proposal would bring.
“Your future is still clouded,” she said solemnly.
He nodded his head. “Sure, but future aside, what do you think personally? Yasaka seemed uncertain.”
“With good reason,” Tiamat said drolly. “But there is merit to your thought. You need power, versatile power that can act independently of you.”
“Exactly what I think,” Ichigo said, as he turned and walked them through the parking spaces and up to the gate. With a flick of magic, he opened the gate and stood to the side, allowing Tiamat to pass before him.
Satan he may be, but he was still a gentleman.
He then let go of Tiamat’s hand and reached into his pocket, taking out an all too familiar key from years past, and then walked assuredly to the front door.
“It is risky though,” he admitted as he fitted the key into the lock. “But I think the benefits ultimately outweigh the risks.” And as he opened the door, he turned around and made to give way to Tiamat again, but this time -
“You’re late! Dinner’s over!”
And Ichigo turned towards the boisterous voice just in time for his face to meet a size twelve shoe at terminal velocity.
As he was kicked into the air and sent crashing against the hedges, Ichigo let out an annoyed groan. “For fuck’s sake, Goat-Face!”
Ichigo grimaced as branches and leaves tugged on the fabric of his jacket as he struggled back to his feet. Brushing himself off, he stared irritated at the self-satisfied smirk on his old man’s face. “Was that really necessary?”
“I reiterate! You’re late!” His father exclaimed.
“Huh? What are you talking about?” He said angrily. “I just texted you that I’d be by some time tonight! I never said I’d be here for dinner!”
“Hoh?” The older Kurosaki man hummed with a narrowed glare. “Yuzu even went and set a place for you!”
“What? Why would she – wait, did you tell her I’m coming for dinner?!”
His father scratched his cheek in thought, looking away. “Did I? Is that important? What is important is that she is somewhat miffed with you.”
Ichigo rolled his eyes. “You’re so freaking annoying.”
But then his father completely turned away from him and gave Tiamat a small but polite greeting bow. “My apologies for the delayed welcome. Disciplining my foolish son is a near reflex for me.”
Tiamat acknowledged his father with a dip of her own head, which was probably the politest thing she’d done in the last one hundred years, Ichigo thought privately to himself.
“I empathize, being a parent is a demanding endeavor.” Sapphire eyes turned towards him, shining with playful laughter. “All the more with this one, given how quick he is to leap into trouble.”
He scowled briefly as he walked to stand by her and habitually took her hand. And, despite her teasing, Tiamat gave him a gentle squeeze as he brushed his thumb across the back of her hand.
Ichigo turned back towards his father and found the man’s eyes squarely on their enjoined hands, a flash of something akin to both nostalgia and satisfaction crossing his expression.
“Please, do come inside,” his father then said as he stepped aside. “And welcome back home.”
A pleasing warmth flitted through his chest as he led Tiamat by the hand through the threshold back into his childhood home. And as his father came behind them and shut the door, Ichigo heard the shuffle of feet as Yuzu peered across the hall, her expression turning delighted as she exclaimed, “Onii-chan! You’re back!”
Ichigo let out a chuckle as his younger sister nearly tackled him as she hugged him tightly across the chest.
He patted her on the back, smiling tenderly. “Good to see you too, Yuzu.”
“Oi, Yuzu,” and Ichigo looked up to see Karin standing with one hand on her hip, her expression a touch exasperated. “At least let them come all the way inside.”
“Ah! Sorry!”
And as Yuzu backed away shyly, Ichigo waved at his other little sister. “Hey, Karin, how’ve you been?”
“Hello, Ichi-nii,” Karin said before giving a light shrug. “Same as ever, kind of bored with nothing to do during the summer.”
Yuzu then turned hesitantly towards Tiamat and, much to his amusement, he could see her struggling to muster the courage to meet those primordial eyes. “Uhh – ahem – welcome back. Please come in.”
Tiamat tilted her head, her expression entirely amused. “My thanks.”
Karin’s gaze narrowed with suspicion, nevertheless his other sister offered her own greeting. “Yeah… welcome back. Make yourself at home.”
Tiamat merely smiled in response, and Ichigo had to keep himself from sniggering as he sensed the immense merriment she felt in face of his sisters’ caution and mistrust. But then his father placed a hand on his shoulder and added a bit of his own prodding, “Well, as I said, you’ve missed dinner -”
To which, Yuzu immediately interjected and said, “I can take everything out and reheat it!”
“No, that’s fine Yuzu,” Ichigo said, shaking his head lightly.
“I can make something fresh if you don’t want leftovers!” She said eagerly.
And, again, Ichigo shook his head. “That won’t be necessary, we already ate.”
“- why don’t you go ahead and freshen up?” His father finished, ignoring the entire exchange with Yuzu as if it never happened. “Your room is still the same as you left it. Well, maybe with an inch or two of added dust.”
“There’s no dust! Some people clean in this house!” Karin said indignantly.
As the easy comfort of years past rolled over him, Ichigo smiled to himself. But still, they were standing in the foyer, and he’d rather not spend the rest of the evening there. So, with a quick thanks to Karin, he led Tiamat up the stairs and towards that door with the all too memorable number 15 hanging on it.
As he entered his bedroom and saw his bed with the blue sheets and white cross, he strode over and put the duffle bag down. Said bag had a few clothes for his trip, not that he couldn’t conjure whatever he wanted to wear, but it was always nice to have physical articles when on the road.
It also helped sell the illusion to his sisters that he was a normal person.
For her part, Tiamat immediately lay down on the bed and set her head onto his pillow, but not without first burying her face and taking in a deep whiff.
He let out a chuckle. “Are you seriously sniffing my pillow?”
“I enjoy your scent, beloved.”
Shaking his head, he walked over to his closet and opened it, ensuring that ridiculous mod soul hadn’t somehow managed to climb back into his bedroom somehow. The last thing he needed was for that obscene plushie to fall in perverse worship of his Tiamat.
“I doubt it has any of my scent, it’s been months since we were last here. Not to mention, I’m sure somebody washed the sheets after we left.”
She gave him a telling look. “’Tis the memory of you, not just the physical smell. I enjoy wrapping myself in your history, even as you do the same in my mind.”
Ichigo cast her a brief, affectionate look before gazing out the window and over the roofs of the many homes in his neighborhood.
“Feels good to be back,” he said softly, more to himself than her. “Hopefully nothing weird happens this time.”
Tiamat chuckled from his bed. “Oh beloved, when will you finally accept that you are the greatest absurdity in any scenario?”
He instantly scowled. “No, I’m not! I’m normal! Perfectly normal!”
=======
Tiamat lightly walked down the wooden stairs of the dainty little home her beloved had grown up in. She could feel strong currents of spiritual energies flow through the home, serving as protective barriers from the accursed undead that prowled these lands. And they were firmly embedded with the touch of his father.
Speaking of whom…
As she came to the ground floor, her eyes immediately fell upon the man, even as he looked at her with a hint of surprise.
“Good morning,” he said, and she could sense his a touch of uncertainty surrounding his aura. Though not from having her in his home. From what she could perceive, the father fully trusted in his son’s ability to gauge and measure another’s character.
If Ichigo trusted her, then so too would his father.
That ancient part of her, that maternal nature, found itself stirring in the incredible confidence the man had in his son. It was the type of confidence all mothers wished their children would share with their respective fathers.
And, despite what difficulties he had misguidedly pressed onto her beloved, she could readily sense the strong devotion and love he had for each of his children. She approved, and she could see where Ichigo’s own inherent sense of responsibility and deeply caring nature came from.
There’s just as much of his father in him as there is his mother.
“A fine morning to you as well,” she greeted.
Isshin met her eyes, and much to her admiration, she saw no sign of want or lust. A strong and firm will – yes, she could easily see the resemblance between this man and her fated love.
His eyes flickered to the ceiling before looking back down at her, and he idly rubbed his short beard. Absently, she wondered what her beloved would look like with one of his own? Perhaps, some time in the future, she should convince him to try and grow one out?
But she was taken from her musings as the man said, “It seems the kids are all knocked out. Yuzu and Karin have been sleeping-in during their summer break, but I’m surprised – Ichigo’s always been an early riser.”
“’Twould be my influence,” she said with some mirth. “He has been quite harried of late; I convinced him to rest some more.”
The man’s eyes seemed pensive for a moment before he let out a soft, considerate hum. “I see… how’s he been? That boy has rather annoying habit of assuming responsibilities that aren’t his and not asking for help when he should.”
Her chest rumbled with laughter even as she smiled fondly. “Oh, I am well aware. But I, and a few choice others around him, have done our best to beat some sense into him.”
He laughed, a hearty sound, and said, “I’m glad to hear it! Anyways, would you care to join me for breakfast?”
“I would be delighted to,” she said lightly.
And as she followed the man into his dining room, he turned over his shoulder and said, “Preemptive apologies, I’ve never been much of a cook so all I can offer are some mundane things like cereal or eggs. We have some leftover rice and curry, if that tickles your fancy?”
Her nose briefly wrinkled, she had enough self-awareness to know that her palette was quite fickle – and why shouldn’t it be? – but she was not about to reject such sincere hospitality. While she was a great many things, ungrateful was not among them.
“Anything will suffice, I shall not complain,” she said, and as they reached the dining table, with a flicker of magic, she drew a chair out and gracefully sat down.
He froze in the corner of her eyes, and she turned towards him with a known smile - part amused, part predatory. His beard then shifted as he opened and closed his mouth, staring at the chair that had moved without her physical touch, unsure of what to say.
She could see his thoughts wheel behind his eyes, both uncertainty and surprise tinting her overt display of her supernatural nature. But then his eyes finally jumped to hers. “Well then… I take it we’re not bothering with pretending anymore?”
She leaned forward, putting her elbow down on the table even as she placed her chin onto an open palm. “I care little for subtly when it is not needed.”
And it was very true. Subtly and deception were things for those too weak or incapable of taking the direct approach. The Undying Storm was neither of those things. And, while she would respect her beloved’s desire to insulate his two very mortal sisters, his father was already firmly entrenched in the supernatural world. There was no need for her to play the part of feeble mortal before him.
Isshin continued to stare at her for a few quiet seconds before reaching up and rubbing the back of his head, his expression becoming thoughtful and even a bit appreciative. And Tiamat had to suppress a quiver of her lips – the motion was so utterly reminiscent of her beloved; she found it downright endearing.
The man shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another, his thoughts still whirling, but then he sighed and crossed his arms, leveling her with a searching gaze. After another few quiet seconds, he finally said, “The last time you were here, Ichigo said something about you being a primordial deity of Mesopotamia.”
“Deity, no. But I can claim the rank of primordial,” she said.
He blinked at her curiously. “Mind if I ask what’s the difference?”
“Primordials are concepts, foundational laws of reality that have gained a form of self-awareness. A deity, much like your distant ancestor, is one who sits beyond the physical world, enthroned in the golden world of Time. Oft, a deity may take command of a precept, many even, but they will not truly embody it as an incarnation.”
His expression morphed in surprise. “You knew the Shiba ancestor?” He asked, a little wonder coloring his voice.
But Tiamat shook her head lightly. “No, and though I did not bear witness to it myself, I am old enough to remember the sundering of what was then called Yomi and the subsequent partitioning of the afterlife by the Immortal who you call the Soul King.”
“Wow, that's uh... actually I'm not sure how to take that. But it's good to know. I, uh, also happened to do a little research of my own through contacts I’ve made in the human world; you’re called the Dragon King as well?
“A Dragon King,” she corrected, though not unkindly. “It is a lengthy tale that I will not regale you with for now, but my flesh was reforged as a Dragon’s. And yes, of Wyrmkind, I am counted amongst their royalty.”
He nodded slowly. “Any relation to the Shinto deity Ryūjin?”
“My son.” A flood of warmth entered her chest as she thought of her legendary child; his imagery was a true favorite amongst the mortals of this nation.
But both of Isshin’s brows shot up and he leaned back on his heels. “Pardon the blasphemy, but holy crap,” the man said with wide eyes. “I’m starting to think your affections are wasted on my no-good son… should I build a shrine for you?”
Tiamat let out a laugh, the sound filling the air with a fresh ocean breeze. “I care nothing for worship and any prayer to my name will fall on deaf ears. But if you wish to honor my son, I will not stop you. As for your son,” and here she gave the man her complete attention, eyes glowing with all the beauty of the sea, “he has my heart. And it is my greatest desire that he keep it an eternity more.”
He looked at her stunned before letting out a deep laugh of his own. “I can’t imagine what that dense son of mine did to earn such a treasure!”
And she answered with four simple, yet deeply profound words.
“He made me happy.”
And he stared at her once more stunned, but then his expression became a touch sad, and Tiamat recognized it as one that any parent would wear. “I wasn’t kidding when I said that boy has a horrible tendency to assume responsibility. It stems from his mother’s death, from his overwhelming desire to never face such a loss again.”
Tiamat’s heart swelled, she knew all too well how much pain an angst over his mother’s demise had shaped her beloved, how much it haunted him. But, as she stared at his father now, she also all too well the pain of losing one’s spouse.
Isshin Kurosaki suffered and endured that wretched misery on his own, keeping cheer and levity on his mien at all times for the sake of his then too young children. And again, she was reminded of that same self-sacrificing nature of her beloved, of those broad shoulders that were far too accustomed to enduring tribulations alone.
This poor man, after all these years, he was still so devoted to the woman who was so violently torn from him. He had his faults, yes, but he was good father, a great husband. And though her years were short, Tiamat truly believed that Masaki Kurosaki had a wonderful and delight-knowing life.
“He makes you happy,” Isshin repeated thoughtfully, more to himself than her. But then he let out a long breath, even as sincerity touched the smile on his lips. “Yet, as his father, I feel the need to express my gratitude, because I can clearly see you make him happy.
"It's so obvious in the way his eyes always go right back to you. How he always smiles at you and instantly goes to hold your hand. That boy is head over heels in love with you, and it shows.”
“As it should,” she said devotedly. “He is mine. Even as I am his. Always and forever more.”
Tiamat could sense the outpouring of satsifaction and affection her words inspired in the man. She could even see hint of misty tears begin to water his eyes. But they did not spill - he merely looked down to the ground and, she knew well enough to recognize that he was now thinking of her beloved's mother.
They settled into a comfortable quiet after that, and Tiamat’s mind wandered beyond the confines of the house. She brushed past her beloved immense and dark presence to the dawn-hued outdoors, to the sky bereft of clouds and the song of birds as the day broke the horizon.
It was peaceful, despite of the considerable powers that were gathered in this spiritually dense yet quaint little town. So entirely opposite of the constant churning of her beloved’s kingdom. But then, reality reflected the ruler. If Infernity was ever in motion it was because it’s master never truly sat still, he was always moving forward, always striving for something more.
But there was wisdom in taking a breath, in stopping mid-stride to look away from the coming future and appreciating the now. And there was no better place for such a tranquil moment than that place called home.
And hers would ever be with him.
“Uhh, if you don’t mind,” she looked towards the man as he scratched his cheek, “could I ask you another question? And, not to pry into your personal life, but since we are on the subject of you and Ichigo, I do have some concerns… as his father, I mean.”
She regarded his nervousness for a moment but nodded her head. “You may, but I shall take payment in kind.”
Isshin blinked at her. “Payment? Err, what kind of payment?”
Tiamat crossed her arms and narrowed her gaze, “He is vexingly stingy with these things humans call baby photos. I would like to acquire them.”
“Oh,” and she could see the relief past the laughter in his eyes. “That can be arranged.”
“Very well then,” she said plainly. “Voice what concern you may have.”
“… what’s this about him also being involved with a kitsune? A single mother even?”
Ah.
Yes.
Hmm. She did say that she would do away with subtlety… and yet… she reached out through their mental bond and tapped against the heavy and churning mire that was his molten presence in her mind.
‘Beloved, awake.’
‘Hmm?’ She sensed his drowsy warmth slip over her shoulders and cradle her tenderly.
‘Come - your father is seeking an explanation for your two-timing nature.’
And his response came not only to her ears, but through the whole of the house.
“WHAT?”
=======
A/N: First and foremost - we're at Chapter 80 now. Quite the milestone and we're now at over 600k words. Thank you to everyone for reading this story over the last past 11 years. I appreciate you so, very, very much!
Chapter 80 clocks in at just under 11k words, a very long chapter with a lot going on.
I wanted to highlight that not everyone in the Old Satan Faction are cartoonishly evil, many of these Devils were simply born into the territories and reigns of the those aligned with the Old Satans. Unfortunately, as we can see in our own world, war does not descriminate. Nevertheless, the Satans continue on mercilessly for the several billions under their protection and care.
As for Akeno, it seems that most readers wish to see their relationship stay the same, with Akeno retaining her one-sided crush and Ichigo remaining faithful to Yasaka and Tiamat as he stays a guiding hand in her future. I do enjoy writing her as a character and, as I've said, the parallels between her and Ichigo from a literary perspective are strikingly similar.
And we're back in a Karakura Town! Man, I had to stop myself from writing more of Tiamat's dialogue with Isshin. I could probably do a full chapter of just the two of them. Juxtaposing Isshin and Tiamat as parents as well as people who lost their spouses through extreme violence was a fun character exercise. But they have that same core protective natures, even if it manifests quite differently. Isshin is more of a silent protector, saying and doing things in the background. Tiamat is very up front and in charge. But both tend to make decisions regarding others without consult or consent.
If it didn't sway things away from the mainstory and conflict, I would just spend the next five chapters of dialogue and character work with Tiamat and Yasaka (and Kunou!) with the Kurosaki family. Furture stories, I suppose.
Have a lovely weekend!
This is Diana, btw. A very minor character, but I liked how she looked in my head and decided to get art of her.