Chapter Text
Iruma hadn’t thought that hard on the history behind his adoptive family in the netherworld until the teacher house visit made by Professor Kalego. During that encounter he’d seen a different side to both his grouchy alphian professor as well as to Opera. Of the two Opera was perhaps even more surprising.
Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever even considered how old Opera is, or if they went to Babyls or not. But I guess they did…and to think they’re older than Professor Kalego? I guess demons are hard to pin on age, I would have guessed they were younger than him…but then again Professor Kalego is always stressed and frowning so maybe he’s just got wrinkles from that?
Iruma’s curiosity only grew the more he thought about it. From what he’d witnessed during the teacher meeting, Kalego was rather terrified of Opera, and Opera looked like they had quite the time teasing him. But it had been weirdly stilted, like they both were acting to a script. Iruma didn’t know how to describe it.
Opera was a loyal servant who doubled as security for Sullivan’s home, and Iruma had never had to consider it any further than that until today.
But we’re family…shouldn’t family know a little more about each other?
Considering how he’d wound up as Sullivan’s grandson, Opera was already well aware of Iruma’s terrible life in the human world. They never brought up tough questions, and seemed very quiet and considerate. Opera was an incredible cook, kept the whole of their massive mansion running like clockwork all on their own, and also pulled the weight of making sure the more practical needs Iruma had were covered when Sullivan was too stuck in fantasy.
But then…is there anything Opera isn’t good at?
Well, nothing Iruma had witnessed.
They killed it at the festival games, danced like a pro when playing video games, and according to the school stories Sullivan had brought up when Kalego was over, they were a terrifyingly proficient fighter. Iruma was grateful he hadn’t actually seen any proof of that yet, and he really hoped he’d never need too. The omega was flawless at just about everything they tried, so far as Iruma could see.
So why…are they a servant at Grandpa’s house? In fact…wait, what’s Opera’s rank? They don’t wear a pendant to identify it with…but even Professor Kalego and Professor Balam wear pendants with their ranks on them…so why not Opera? And if Professor Kalego, who’s Cheth, is scared of Opera then…
“Young Master Iruma, is there a reason you’ve been staring at me so intently all morning?”
Iruma about jumped out of his skin.
He’d been sitting at the dining table having a cup of hell gray tea, served up perfectly by Opera as always. He was taking his time after having plowed through breakfast. It was the weekend and he didn’t have any plans to go out the rest of the day.
The feline-like ears atop Opera’s head twitched once, as if to express a curiosity that seemed incapable of reaching their face.
Opera had been in and out of the room several times, taking away the enormous pile of dishes Iruma produced with each meal considering how much he ate, and every time Iruma had watched him come and go.
“O-Oh! It wasn’t on purpose, nothings wrong. Promise!” Iruma hurried to reply, and Opera lightly raised an eyebrow, which about as much of a facial expression as could be expected out of them.
“I didn’t imply that anything was wrong. Do you need something?”
“No, I guess I just…ha, I was just wondering if there’s anything you’re bad at, Opera!”
Opera blinked, then tilted their head to one side slightly. “And what brought that on?”
Iruma was surprised Opera was even bothering to engage in the conversation. Knowing them, Iruma would have thought the omega would simply reply along the lines of ‘it’s my job to be good at everything’ and move on. Instead though, they had paused at the side of Iruma’s chair, one hand loosely resting on the handle of the pushcart they’d been using to take the dishes away. They didn’t seem angry or irritated. In fact, judging by what few cues they let show on their face, Opera was genuinely just curious.
Iruma gave another shaky chuckle, setting his cup of tea down on the table in front of him. “Well, I guess ever since Professor Kalego came over I just realized I never actually talked to you about what you did before you worked for Grandpa…and you’re always so…I dunno…good at everything, it got me thinking!”
“Oh, I see.”
Opera put his free hand to his chin. “Something I’m bad at…hm…”
“If you have to think that hard there really must not be much, huh? You’re nothing less than perfect, Opera! Even Professor Kalego seemed to think so!”
You can’t take anything less than perfect, right, Opera!?
Opera’s eyes widened a bit when Iruma made that declaration, but far from looking bashful or pleased from the praise, his expression shifted to something Iruma dared to read as troubled. His eyes got a hollowed out look to them, and his loose fingers on the handle of the pushcart suddenly curled tight into a white-knuckled grip.
“Hm. I suppose if there’s one thing I’m terrible at, it’s courtship. And Kalego’s well aware of that.”
He pushed off the cart after that with a restrained aggression to his every stride, the plates that usually never made a sound when he took them away rattling from the increased speed.
Iruma meanwhile stared after him with a slack-jawed expression.
…huh!?
Opera
I shouldn’t have said that.
It was rare for Opera to cave to irritation or anger. They worked for Sullivan, the man was a raging whirlwind of stressors and Opera handled it all without a single slip for years now. They were caring for their young master in much the same way, preparing for his eventual presentation into a secondary and so much more.
Working, working, working.
Work was easy.
It took Opera’s mind away from wayward thoughts, kept their hands moving and their feet tapping and every single memory edged off into the corners.
It was better this way.
So why did I ask for that as my favor?
They’d framed it quite differently to Sullivan, considering their boss owed them one after the fiasco in the basement. They’d said they merely wanted a chance to catch up with their old school friend, Kalego, and to perhaps poke a little fun at him.
But I’m sure he saw through me.
Sullivan played dumb pretty often, but he was of the highest rank in the netherworld for good reason. He wasn’t someone who could be easily fooled unless he was playing along for the fun of it. Which Sullivan had been kind enough to do for them during the teacher visit, and Opera was grateful their boss had never brought it up.
Then again, what even was the point?
Opera had seen Kalego again for the first time in over a decade at the family day of the battler festival. They’d been dominating all the fair games, and while they’d never admit it they had just been using it as an opportunity to look cool for their young master. Apparently some fussy parents had complained about it, and Kalego had been summoned to put an end to Opera’s winning streak. However, when he’d actually seen Opera, he’d rounded on his heel and fled for the hills.
Opera had pretended not to notice, but they’d seen Kalego approaching from the corner of their eye. They’d seen the alpha for the first time in so long, and the first thing they’d noted in his mind was how little he’d changed since their school days.
I always told him that grimace of his would give him wrinkles.
Opera felt the softest upwards tug at the corners of their lips before they let out a minuscule sigh. Their hands were still busy, washing dishes at lightning speed and setting them in the drying rack.
Aside from the crease lines that had become apparent between his eyebrows, the alpha looked nearly identical to what he’d been the day they’d gotten their Babyls diploma. Or well, that wasn’t quite right.
After all, Kalego hadn’t come to see him walk at the ceremony. Everything had crumbled to dust between them just a few weeks before that.
Honestly, I didn’t even have to go to school…Master Sullivan forced me.
Opera had transferred into Babyls as a second-year, after Sullivan had scouted them for their astounding ability. Apparently Sullivan had insisted that it wouldn’t be right for the chairdemon of Babyls’s personal servant and guard to have skipped out on attending the prestigious school, so he’d pulled some strings. Opera was enrolled despite having had very little in the form of a formal education in their entire life.
By the end of the year they’d been making enough trouble that even Sullivan found it a headache.
It’s not my fault people kept picking fights with me…even if I may have encouraged them slightly.
Opera hadn’t been intending to have Kalego get mixed up with them. Apparently in his first year Kalego had ended up in a lot of fights, and Opera, two years his senior, was impressed by his gusto. He had stood his ground regardless of the outcome. A talented young alpha from an impressive family.
Scholarly, well-educated, handsome, powerful, purebred…exactly the type of person Opera should have distinctly avoided.
Opera who was someone who didn’t even officially exist up until they’d been rather forcefully tossed through Babyls’s hallowed gates and left to fend for themself just for a chance at a better life.
But I didn’t avoid him…and here we are…
They set the last plate aside and straightened up. Drying their hands, Opera resumed their usual routine around the mansion, and tried to settle into the headspace of ignoring all their problems as if that might make them go away.