Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He wasn’t sure how he got to this point in his life, or his afterlife. He’s not actually sure what's going on. There were a lot of colors, more than he could remember seeing. No, that wasn’t true, he knew these colors, knew the shades and names. There were just more of them than he could remember seeing before, more purple and red and green. He couldn't see them well, everything was blurry, muddled together. He could only make out the bigger splotches.

He felt as though he wasn’t conscious for most of the time either, big splotches of time were missing from his memory. Not just of his days here, his days before were messy. He could remember his favorite color, what his room used to look like, the smell of wet dirt. But he blanked on others, like his name, what he did before, what he used to look like.

It was all very confusing, he knew there was something else he had to remember. But every time he thought about it, something horrible would start screeching.

It took him a while to figure out that the screeching was him.

~~

Whenever he made loud noises, a large moving blob would come to comfort him. Despite how mentally slow he felt, it wasn’t long until he figured out what was happening. He was a child, a baby presumably. He felt like he was smaller than a baby should be, but he’s also never remembered being a baby before.

His vision was clearing up now, the blob he knew as his main caretaker was easier to make out. Reddish orange hair, with bright blue streaks. He thought it was really pretty, it was like a fire. He hoped that his hair looked nearly half as cool. She was wearing weird clothes though, a sleeveless black shirt and baggy brown pants. It was too cold for that, the chill was obvious enough even under the blankets he had.

She kept talking to him, which was probably normal to do for a developing baby. Although he could barely understand her, the language wasn’t one he was familiar with. But he kept hearing one word over and over, usually when she was facing him. Was it his name?

“Tellur!“

The figure looked at him quickly, even if the word sounded more like ‘Tehwuw’ with his pathetic voice boxes. So it was his name, or something of importance.

She made a happy noise, picking him up and twirling him in the air. It was… surprisingly fun. She repeated words at him, and he did his best to copy her to the best of his ability. He wasn’t sure what they meant, but it made her happy, so he wasn’t sure it mattered.

~~

Something that he learned quickly was that his current parental figure was fond of throwing him. Literally. He would get tossed fifteen feet in the air before she would catch him again. It took 24 times before he figured out what she was looking for. As he was falling back to the ground for the 25th time wings unfurled from his back and kept him afloat.

Which was… literally the coolest thing ever.

He had wings! Real wings! They were blue on the outside, with orange feathers on the underside. They matched his moms, which she showed off as proudly as he did.

He proceeded to admire himself in a mirror for at least thirty minutes. He really couldn’t help it, there were so many differences between this body and the one he had before. His ears were sharper, and his hair was primarily blue, but the underside of it was a fiery orange that he really liked. There were other differences too, but he had noticed those a while ago. His talons weren’t new, though they made a bit more sense now that he knew about his wings. The claws too.

Tellur was decidedly not human, that much was obvious now. He wasn’t sure he was even still on earth, everything looked different. The trees were purple, the sky was purple, a lot of things were purple. Don’t get him wrong, he liked purple, it was a nice color, but he wasn’t necessarily sure that it should be the main color.

~~

His mom was using magic, proper magic. Digging out a hole with a muttered phrase and filling it with water without a word.

It became slightly less impressive when she proceeded to pick him up and throw him in.

He already knew how to swim, he had his other life to thank for that. But it was still really cold!

… it didn’t stop him from bugging her about learning magic for the next few days.

~~

“Listen closely Tellur,”

He sat criss crossed in front of his mother, looking up at her expectantly.

“We have an affinity for water magic, it’s in our blood.” she sat in front of him, which he was grateful for. For some reason, his mother was tall as hell, and him being a small child made it so he had to crane his neck to look at her. “Our family used to be sailors because of our bloodline magic, which I'll get to in a bit.” she held up a hand to stop his questions.

“I think the best spell for you to practice would be Gran,” she pulled a basket of small rocks out from behind her, “It’s a defensive spell, you’ll get a candy if you manage to block half of the rocks.”

Then she started throwing them, with no warning whatsoever. He covered his head with his hands as a rock nailed him on the nose.

“Gran?” nothing happened, and at this point he was severely doubting that he would get the candy.

“You need to say it with more vigour!” another rock hit him in the head, he wasn't sure if cps existed here, but maybe he needed to call, “It won’t work if your conviction is weak. Try again!”

He looked up, only to immediately have a rock thrown dangerously close to his eye, “Gran!”

The rocks stopped pelting him, but he could still hear them falling to the ground. He looked up to see his mom throwing rocks at the barrier. The moment she saw his grin, she started throwing them over the barrier.

“Gran!” it blocked the new angle, but left the old one open. To which his mother immediately seized the opportunity.

It continued like this until he could maintain a full barrier, which was apparently the way the spell should’ve worked.

The exercise left him exhausted and munching on two extra candies because his mother had hit him in the eye.

~~

Most magic lessons mimicked this, he would be told a spell, and would be forced to practice until his mother deemed it acceptable. It was so tiring, but also so invigorating. He was learning magic, actual magic that he could see and hear and-

He was just excited, he was learning about other things too now, all of it was interesting. Netherworld history, diabotany, and astrology. All of it reconfirmed his suspicions that he was nowhere near earth. Which made him feel,

He… wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He still couldn’t remember much from before, there was a sense of dread he felt when thinking about his last memories there, even though they were happy. It was like he knew something terrible was about to happen. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, rolling over the missing moments in his brain.

Maybe he shouldn’t know, maybe he didn’t remember because he wasn’t supposed to. It didn’t stop the curiosity from gnawing at his chest.

It was when he was reading more about recent netherworld history that something stood out to him. It was a list of demon kings, and the missing one. Derkila.

Something about that name, it was so familiar. He couldn’t put his finger on it, mom didn’t talk about it, and he hasn’t even seen any other demons yet.

Something, something fun.

Whatever, he had a worksheet to finish.

~~

His mother sat him down in the living room, and already he could tell that this was going to be a hard learned lesson.

“I have hidden your blanket somewhere in the house,” she started, crossing her arms, “you won’t be able to move from your spot until you tell me where it is. Nor will you be able to sleep,” oh, he should’ve guessed psychological torture wasn’t too much for this woman.

“Eh?” he looked around, swiveling his neck in case he could catch a glimpse of it just from that, “how am I meant to do that?”

“Just tell me where it is,” she shrugged, “that’s all there is to it.” That was so unhelpful! What did she want from him?

“Mother, how.” she sighed, like he was the one being unreasonable. How did she expect a five year old to do this? Well he wasn’t an actual five year old, but still! His brain wasn’t developed enough for this detective work!

“Think, you already know where it is. I know you do. You don’t even have to look for it,” she leaned down, tapping his forehead. “Close your eyes,”

Think, think. What was he looking for? He already knew, how was he meant to find it? It was like a map, and he could kinda see where things were. He didn't know how he figured it out. If he focused he could tell them apart, his pillow was still in his room, his mother was slowly circling the couch, and his blanket was under the kitchen sink. Which was gross.

“Why’d you put it under the sink?” he complained, opening his eyes again, “it’ll be all damp now,”

She grinned, ruffling his hair and messing up the bun he’d put it in, “this is our bloodline ability, Wayfinder. The more you know something, the easier it is to find. Haven’t you wondered why you never get lost?”

He just thought he had good recognition, though maybe he should’ve guessed there was something up when his mother let her five year old out into the wilderness.

“Some in our family can even feel the emotions of what they’re tracking, if it has any that is.” His mom pulled her hand back, letting him fix his hair. She didn’t talk about their family often, so he soaked up the information as best he could. “You’ll never have to worry about getting lost as long as you can stop and think,”

She handed him a sketchbook from the counter, placing her hands over it with a smile. “The paper will never run out. When you don’t want to lose something, you should draw it.” That was, really smart.

He took the sketchbook, running his fingers along the leather cover. There were runes inscribed in the borders, he didn’t know what they all meant yet, but from the ones he could read it was water resistant.

“Thank you mom,” he smiled, quietly examining the book, “this means a lot,”

~~

As he grew, there were moments where he felt consumed in deja vu. Sometimes he would read something, and it would seem so familiar that he was sure he had seen the contents before. It would go away the deeper he delved into a topic, so it had little value to his schoolwork.

It all came to a head when he picked up the newest book he had to study, Mythical Zoology by Balam Shichirou. Balam Shichirou. Why was that name so familiar?

“Hey mom?” He walked through the house with the book under his arm, “Who’s Balam Shichirou?”

“He’s an instructor at Babyls,” It seemed like she was working on something, he couldn’t see what it was though. “Why are you asking?” Babyls, what was wrong with him today? Everything seemed off. Babyls was a school, right? Yeah, it was a school, with Iruma and-

Hold on.

“Mom? Does the chair demon of Babyls have a grandson?”

She hummed, looking at him over her shoulder, “No, I don't think he does.” he stepped forward, trying to get a look at what she was working on, but she pushed him away with a hand, “Why the sudden interest?”

He didn’t answer her, thinking it over. He probably should’ve figured out he was isekai’d sooner, but in his defense he didn’t really consider it a possibility. He kinda wished he’d remembered more, or at least figured it out sooner so he could compile notes of events. He really only knew some of the characters now.

There was Iruma of course, Clara, Asmodeous? Maybe. Then Balam and Kalego.

Fuck, he needed to know more. Did he? What use would he be? It’s not like the future is rapidly spiraling downwards.

At least he thinks it isn’t.

… he never actually got to finish the manga.

“Tellur?” his mom put a hand on his shoulder, leaning down to look him in the eye, “Is something the matter?”

“Mom?” he fixed his posture, standing up straight, “Can I go to Babyls?”

She grimaced, but the expression was quickly replaced by a smile. “I’ll look into the requirements, but Babyls is rather far don’t you think?”

Tellur shook his head quickly, looking up at her with a smile, “they have dorms, don’t they? And I can come home on weekends! And you can call me whenever you want!”

With a sigh she ruffled his hair, standing up and corralling him back into the living room, “If that's really what you want, I’ll look into it.” He beamed at her, “But. You have to call everyday after school, and you have to avoid trouble. And if I think it’s making you feel worse I’m pulling you out.”

Okay, that seemed pretty reasonable.

“Okay!” he shook her hand, smiling brightly, “I’ll be good! I promise,”

She turned back towards her room, “Now off to bed with you, I’ll get everything settled.”

~~

Apparently there was an exam he had to take, which made sense.

What didn’t make sense was how the questions weren’t really that hard.

His mom flew with him to the auditorium, where she was made to sit outside with the other parents.

The other students around him looked stressed, hesitating on answers. Maybe they were just further ahead than him, which meant he needed to speed up. He didn’t want to be the last one done! Mom would probably say that it was too hard on him and pull him out!

Like he thought, the further into the exam the harder it got. There were quite a few that he didn’t know. Mostly about etiquette and seduction. He never learned either so it made sense, he just hoped it wouldn’t give him a failing grade on top of things he just plain got wrong.

Twenty people went up to turn it in before he was done, and among the group he thought he could see Asmodeus. So he was in the right year then, unless he was dead wrong about that student's identity. He doesn’t remember if there were any older years with pink hair.

The directions said to just leave when done, but he took a moment to look over the examinees. Some of them seemed familiar, but he wouldn’t be able to name any of them. Probably in the right year then. He just needed to wait for his results.

Mom immediately dive-bombed him with a hug when he stepped out, spinning him around in the air. “How did you do? Did you get in?”

He laughed as he was twirled, throwing out his wings to stop the momentum, “Mom! I don’t know yet! Stop!”

She put him down, brushing off his shoulders. “Let's go home, you need to start packing.”

She unfurled her wings, and he took that as permission to launch, “We don’t even know if I got in yet!”

“Of course you got in,” she grinned at him, “I raised you well.”

What was that supposed to mean?

~~

His mother had him packing three days before the letter even came in, triple and quadruple-checking his bags to make sure he had everything he needed. Organized in which bags he would fly over first considering his small size. He had enough strength to carry it all, but aerodynamics were a completely different issue.

When the acceptance letter arrived, mom made him promise to be gentle with the other kids and helped him with his bags.

“Remember not to squeeze too hard,” she brushed off his shoulders, he didn’t think he had any dirt there but he wasn’t going to say no to the extra contact before he left home. “Control your strength around the other kids.”

“I know mom-” she pulled him into a tight hug, leaning down to put her nose in his hair.

“Just promise me you’ll be careful,” he leaned into the hug, wrapping his arms around her, “and you’ll meet demons you get along with,”

“... Okay mom,” he nodded, “I will,”

Tellur didn't want to leave this embrace, it was all hitting him now that he'd be alone at school, that he'd come home to an empty dorm away from his mother. He knew this would be fun, there was no doubt about that. With what he remembered from the manga most of the early on problems were just things that the school assigned.

"And you'll stay out of trouble," he winced, just for a second, but his mother caught it, "and you'll stay out of trouble right?"

She pulled away so he was at arms length, but he wouldn't meet her eyes.

"I really hope you're not planning on starting fights just because I won't be there."

Shaking his head quickly he looked up, "no, no fights or anything. I just." He sighed, fidgeting with his hands, "there's something I need to do, just on the first day. Then my behavior will be perfect! Just the first few days mom!"

She narrowed her eyes, and he could see her going over the options in her head.

"... No fights. That you can't win,"

He grinned up at her, "thank you mom!"

She shook her head, "yeah yeah," she adjusted the strap on his bag, making sure it was secure for the flight over. "Just... I love you, stay safe."

"I love you too mom," he didn't reply to the second part of that sentence, safe wasn't something he thought he could do with his future plans.

His mom stepped back, giving him a kiss on the head before standing up straight, "have fun, that's the most important thing."

He nodded, smiling up at her and making sure his bag was secure, "I will!" With that, he launched into the air, heading in the direction of Babyls.

Now, how was he going to create enough trouble to be put in the misfit class?

~~

"Good morning! Good morning everyone!" Babyls was bustling with activity, and the student council was directing people to the auditorium after their loud greetings.

And he? Didn't know what to do.

He needed to cause some sort of trouble, mischief he might say, but he's never really been good at that. His mother homeschooled him, so he's never really interacted with other demons his age. Maybe he can just?

He stepped up to the student council, watching their focus shift to him. Oh, this was going to be so embarrassing, he just needed-

"Auditorium is to the right," one demon with black hair and what looked like mutton chops said, pointing in the direction he was meant to go.

Tellur unsheathed his wings, and then with a flap deposited himself on the older students shoulders, carefully keeping his talons in check so he didn't hurt him.

"What- get off!" This drew the attention of the other council members, who snickered at their peer's distress instead of helping.

"Aw look, the freshman likes you," the one with pink skin aww'd, laughing unabashedly at his position.

The one Tellur was standing on flailed a little bit, arms reaching for his legs.

He stepped to the next council member, who squawked loudly as his talons gripped onto his shoulder. He continued this behaviour until he stepped off of the pink ones shoulders, who seemed to just find the whole thing funny.

Fuck, he needed to try harder.

The one he had stepped on originally grabbed him by the armpits, holding him up like an unruly cat before depositing him close to the auditorium.

"There. Get to the opening speech." He turned around and went back to his post without another word, but Tellur could see that the others were teasing him about something.

That was... Actually pretty fun.

Well he has his plan, and if it doesn't work he'll just chant a forbidden spell or something.

... He doesn't know any forbidden spells. This'll have to work.

~~

Every single time he found an opportunity to step on someone's shoulders, he took it. Making quite a ruckus as he made his way to the furthest empty seat.

Hopefully, his disruption of the previously calm auditorium would be enough to get him labelled a Misfit. But he had a feeling he would need to keep up the behaviour for a little while longer before his place would be cemented.

Which was fine, he read in the pamphlet that there were a few days before classes started to get students familiar with the campus and moved into the dorms.

Maybe he should start flying in the hallways as well.

Hm. So much to think about.

"Now rise for our school anthem," a voice called out over the speakers, he stood up, up he really only hummed along with the tune. It was a bit awkward, considering he used to be human, but he'd get over it.

"Next, a greeting from our principal." Here was the moment of truth, to know if he was truly in the right ye-

"Iruma-kuuuuun! It's me! Grandpa!" Well that settles that issue. He was afraid he was too early, or too late. His mother wasn't really caught up with the events of the outside world, and to be fair neither was he, so information on relations could be outdated.

"You see, my beloved grandson has enrolled in our school," the chair demon didn't seem like the extremely powerful demon his mother taught him about, he just seemed... Like a grandpa. "He's just so cute!"

He pulled out a flyer with a picture of Iruma and the chair demon, showing it off to the auditorium and promising handouts. Tellur didn't care, not really. He was more so caught up in the relief of having gotten something right. Now the final hurdle was to either become more of a nuisance, or become Iruma's ally so they would be in the same class.

Is that what happened? He's surprised he remembered that.

What else could he remember now? It felt like seeing the environment in the show helped him remember. He's pretty sure there's going to be a fight after this.

"Aberuhauke,"

The word made him lose his train of thought as an ominous vibe filled the air. The auditorium went completely silent, not even the slightest whisper muttered.

"Tarutoudari, iusabebe,"

Maybe he should commit this to memory, actually no, he shouldn't. He doesn't necessarily want his limbs exploded.

"Risutouru, aburuze,"

Huh, this atmosphere really worked wonders for keeping him in the present, was it the sense of danger? Maybe the reaction of the demons around him?

"Sutoumanu,"

He could hear a few of the demons around him holding their breaths in anticipation, that was how quiet it was. Maybe that was what kept him focused, quiet was hard to come by in the netherworld.

"Tsurezaza,"

He put his hands over his ears right before the crowd erupted into applause, which probably saved his eardrums. Yeah, he remembered now. Asmodeus and Iruma would get in a fight and then Asmodeus would swear loyalty to Iruma because he was beaten.

Tellur could see Iruma getting chastised and praised on the stage, though he couldn't hear the words anymore.

The boy was quickly shuffled back towards the crowd as the teachers made their closing remarks.

He wasn't paying attention, he doubted anyone was. Though for entirely different reasons.

Iruma and Azz had their fight in the courtyard, and from what he remembers it's a big spectacle. Which meant he could step on more people's shoulders.

~~

He couldn't find the courtyard, but all he had to do was follow the trail of students. Word spread quickly after all, and people were definitely talking.

The courtyard was really pretty, or he thinks it would be if it wasn't completely crowded with people. No matter, it was all the better to make a platform for him.

Tellur jumped onto the closest demon's shoulders, some bull demon that didn't look likely to topple, then began his journey around the makeshift stadium.

He couldn't stay on one person's shoulders for too long before they started trying to get him off, but the extra height really helped with seeing the fight.

It was kinda impressive.

Iruma was throwing himself out of the way like a ragdoll, and Asmodeus's fire was,

Was.

Everywhere.

He didn't want to burn again.

Why was it so bright?

Where was he? His chest hurt, why did his chest hurt? The walls were white, and he was sitting on what looked like a hospital bed.

Was this the infirmary? How did he get here? What happened with the fight?

"Good, you're here" A tall demon stopped at the foot of his bed, with two thin scars on the right side of his face, "it isn't often that we get four students here on the same day, much less when one isn't even injured."

He seemed irritated, but Tellur wasn't sure what he did. Oh, he wasted time, that made sense. That time could've been spent in other ways instead of looking after a zoned out student. He doesn't even remember what caused him to react so badly.

"You're lucky, a student council member found you," the probably nurse put a stack of papers on his lap, "things like this need to be in your file, I'll contact your guardian about it, but first I need to ask you a few questions."

He doesn't like this.

The nurse took his silence as an answer, "alright, first, look at me," when he looked up the man smiled a bit, "so you can hear me, good. First question, do you normally have dissociative episodes like that,"

It wasn't, it wasn't bad enough for him to be dissociating. He wanted to say this, but it felt like talking was so much harder than it should be, so he just nodded.

"Do they normally last this long?" The nurse had a clipboard, writing something in it that he couldn't see. How long had it been?

Tellur cleared his throat, taking on a breath, "how long has it been?" The room was well lit, but he couldn't see any natural light from his view. He seemed to be in a sectioned off room.

"You've been here around an hour, I'm unaware of how long you were in that state beforehand, so I'd guess closer to two." He sat down in a nearby chair, and Tellur thought that was a sign that this conversation was going to be longer than he'd like, "can you tell me what time you last remember?"

The entrance ceremony started at 6:06, and ended at 6:36. It was another fifteen minutes until he found the courtyard, and he was hopping around for ten minutes. So around 7:00.

"I think it was about seven?" The nurse leaned forward, "yeah, seven."

"... Then it has been two hours," huh? Wait wait wait. Two? Damn. "Can I ask what you think caused this?"

He... Didn't know. That was the longest he had ever been out of it. Okay, what were the events that lead up to it? There was the welcoming speech, the closing remarks, and the fight. Iruma had dodged one of Azz's fireballs and it was,

It had,

What did it do?

"-ayoi, Izayoi," he was, he wasn't there. He wasn't there. He was in the infirmary and the nurse was in front of him. Or at least who he's assuming is the nurse.

Tellur looked up again, "I'm sorry, what was that?"

He sighed, and he really seemed tired, or was that concerned? Tellur couldn't tell.

"I'll be asking more sensitive questions now," blush, something about blush. Something blue? No, that's not right. "Don't worry, nothing you say will get back to your guardian."

... Huh?

"Firstly, how is your home life?"

Oh, he thought he was being abused!

"My home life is fine!" He answered, maybe a little too quickly. Oh no, what if he answered all of these wrong and they thought his mom was abusing him and took him away from her and locked her up-

"Calm down kid," the nurse's words stopped his thoughts, he just needed to think, he was being ridiculous, "please answer honestly, if something is wrong I can't help unless you tell me."

Tellur shook his head, fidgeting with his claws, "nothings wrong, my mom is the best mom in the netherworld,"

He wrote something down with a sigh, "secondly," oh, just moving past that question now. He's worried about what's being written, hopefully his mom won't pull him out for this, "have you had any intimate or sexual relationships?"

His nose wrinkled in disgust, "no. Absolutely not," not in his other life, and not in this one.

"Last question, then you can go." Tellur nodded, straightening up, "have you had any past traumatic experiences that you know of?"

Has he? Both of his lives have been pretty good, he doesn't think he's had any trauma. And he doesn't even remember dying, so that can't be it.

He shook his head, "not that I know of sir,"

The nurse nodded, then stood up, writing something else on a new piece of paper and adding it to the stack on his lap, "give those to your mother when you next see her, and come see me again on Monday. You're free to go,"

He bowed his head, standing up and making his way out of the infirmary. He would hop on some more people's shoulders, but he didn't want to drop the papers he had.

All he wanted to do was collapse in bed and listen to music. Or maybe he could try to remember more old lyrics. It's been a while since he last sang his old songs. The songs in the netherworld are different from his usual genre, and even after fourteen years the yearning for his familiar music never really went away.

His talons clicked on the stone floor as he walked, maybe he could find some chicken feet socks? There has to be a market for that somewhere, he can't be the only gargoyle that wants socks. Then he wouldn't have to worry about cold feet.

Hm. He wished his claws were dexterous enough for sewing.

Chapter Text

His schedule said that today was familiar summoning, which was exciting. He’s never really thought about what his would be, maybe some kind of snake or cat.

... It felt like he was forgetting something important again.

Oh well, he'll remember it in due time.

It seemed like almost everybody had gathered in the summoning hall when he arrived. He liked that, it meant he wouldn't have to wait for a while just for it to start.

It did really feel like something was going to happen. He didn't think there was anything major this early in the year.

When the last of the students trickled in, the doors slammed open.

"Silence!" Oh yeah, Kalego taught this class. Dope. "I am today's administrator, Naberius Kalego. I am always in charge of this activity,"

As Kalego spoke, he walked to the front of the class. His aura commanding silence and respect. Wow, he was so much cooler in person. No! No, keep it together. He can’t geek out here, he’d start analyzing the teacher and it’d just be awkward if he was caught. Maybe he could sketch him though? No one could blame him for wanting to know where a responsible adult was if he needed help.

"Why, you ask? It's because I'm ruthless. I'll be the one to judge whether you're useless trash," he pointed out at the crowd, "or somewhat useful trash,"

"For example," this seemed familiar, but he couldn't see what was happening, "if there were a student who'd use their grandfather's influence to recite a vulgar spell on stage, and cause a ruckus with a brawl on the same day,"

He pushed his way to the front of the crowd, he didn't want to risk the chance of opening his wings in the tight space surrounding the commotion. "I would get rid of them instantly, likewise! I intend to immediately expel any student that I deem inept."

He made it to the front, ignoring the mutters of surprise around him as Kalego pulled out a teaching guide that didn't fit him at all. It was a soft pink, and the border was covered in flowers and hearts. It looked more like something that'd be for sale on valentines day.

"Silence!" He held up the guide, and it started playing on its own. That was cool, Tellur wondered how it worked, maybe it was some kind of mental switch? Or maybe something that determined the rotation of the board.

"Step one!" Right, he was meant to be doing something. "Draw a circle on the parchment using your blood! Step two! Step into the summoning circle!" And the summoning circle was over there, okay. "Step three! Put your parchment into the fire! Then your familiar will take shape!"

He jumped when the board was slammed to the ground, "that ends the summary, make sure to use the parchment with my seal on it," where would the start of the line be? Probably over here. "Don't try anything funny."

Oh, he made the start of the line, dope! He'd get to go first!

There was some chatter from the other students that he ignored, mentally cataloguing the things he knew. It was too dangerous to write these things down, but he also had such a bad memory. Maybe it would be worth it if he just-

There was another loud sound, and he looked over to see Kalego destroying the teacher's guide in a demonstration, "it will receive punishment due to the nature of the blood pact,"

"Line up! Be quiet!" He gestured to a spot that was close to Tellur, so he just took a step to the side to keep his first place spot.

Kalego handed out the summoning parchments with a scowl, glaring at whoever was louder than necessary.

Huh, it seemed like people had already made alliances and groups. Were demons more naturally prone to socialization than humans? It was only the second day of school. That would be interesting, maybe some sort of evolutionary benefit. Staying in close groups would be better for survival. He personally hasn't felt any strong inclination towards socializing, but he could just be a weird demon.

"You, go." He startled when Kalego pointed at him, but nodded and nicked his finger on his fangs, spreading the blood on the paper before stepping into the circle.

Maybe some kind of rat, or centipede. Those would be cool.

He lit the edge of the paper, only dropping it once he was sure it would be completely enveloped. Tellur could smell the smoke from the paper, and he. He. Smoke.

He needs to get away from the smoke. He can't do this again, he can't he can't he can't-

Something cool placed itself into his hands, and once he looked he saw a small, muddy golem. The dirt was warming under his hands, and it felt like good gardening soil.

He blinked, then stood up with his familiar in his hands. Leaving the circle before he got yelled at.

"Next!"

He went to a vacant corner of the room, sitting crisscrossed and depositing the mud golem in his lap, "I wonder if you can grow flowers?"

He took out his sketchbook, smiling at the way the golem mimicked his cross legged pose. Now he had two things to draw.

The ceremony continued easily, and soon the hall was filled with the chatter of teenagers. It went by pretty quickly, he was left unbothered in his little corner. He knew he shouldn't name his familiar yet, but he couldn't help thinking of names for later.

It brought him to the swift realization that he was terrible at naming things.

Pebble? No, definitely not. Maybe copper? He didn't like that one either.

Ugh, maybe there was a reason they waited a year to name familiars.

Another commotion came from the front, and already he could see people moving to crowd in around the summoning circle. He could faintly hear whispers of 'Iruma' from his place in the corner. He didn't really want to see what was going on, he didn't want to have to push his way to the front either, but something nudged at the back of his mind.

"A demon summoning a demon?" Oh shit that's what he forgot.

Tellur spread out his wings, flapping and landing on someone's shoulders before he walked across people to see.

There he was, Kalego in the summoning circle with a panicking Iruma. Tellur would actually be able to see flufflego in person!

"No you idiot! Push my head thr-" there was a puff of smoke, and in Kalego's place was a fluffy little demon bird. And oh, that was not disappointing. He was like the hellchicks his mother took care of for the farm!

Tellur watched as the teacher fell, and had to jump from shoulder to shoulder with more urgency as the commotion grew.

Well this was fun, at least he won't have to lie to his mom about that.

~~

The three days passed by without further incident, he walked on people's shoulders, got his textbooks, and avoided the student council.

He had no intention of finding out who got him to the infirmary, and he didn't want to face the awkwardness of it, so he kept to himself.

The people he was walking on seemed a bit more wary than before, simply letting him do what he wanted. It wasn't as fun, so he stopped. He probably didn't have to do anymore either, an infirmary trip seemed like it certainly helped him get a place in the class.

And when the arrow he was following led him outside, he knew he had made it.

He wasn't sure what he would change, he wasn't sure if he even could change anything. Maybe the future was set in stone. It wasn't a bad future to have, everyone lived, no one got mortally wounded from what he remembered. But if he could make things easier on everyone else, then he would be happy.

When he opened the doors, he heard the mechanism before he saw the weapons, and muttered out a quick "gran" to stop them.

He wasn't looking forward to another trip to the infirmary. He already had to go there after class.

"Nice," someone patted him on the shoulder, and he looked up to see a dark haired demon with red eyes smiling at him. Wow, he was gorgeous.

Tellur blinked, then nodded, apparently his mother's lessons had paid off. "Thank you, you're pretty."

He didn't seem to know how to react, opening his mouth then closing it again. "... Thanks, you too,"

He smiled, then looked around. It seemed there were only three of them in here so far, himself, the dark haired demon, and a demon with light purple hair. Was it really that early?

"I'm Tellur," the classroom looked decrepit, with cracks in the walls and the windows. It was cold too, he hated it. Maybe he should bring a few blankets tomorrow.

"You can call me Jazz," oh yeah, he was a pickpocket with a shitty older brother. Something about a whistle? What was so important about a whistle? Jazz didn't even have one on him that Tellur could see.

... How did he interact with people?

"This classroom's a piece of junk huh?" Jazz stated, saving him from having to start the small talk.

"Yeah, I'm not sure why it's so cold," think, people like talking about themselves. What would be a good question to ask, "what's your favorite liquid texture?"

Jazz let out a startled laugh, and Tellur was torn between feeling victorious and wanting to bury himself in a hole, "how do you even determine that?"

His face heated up in an embarrassed flush, "like uh, my favorite is shampoo. But water is also neat,"

"I've never really thought of that," the red eyed demon tilted his head, and maybe Tellur was a little obsessed already, but he would prefer to call the studying of his face reassurance that he'd be able to track him, "I guess it'd have to be good pizza sauce, with the way it slides over dough. It looks so nice,"

He smiled, and Tellur's hands itched for his sketchbook. He had it in his bag, but he wasn’t sure if it was considered rude or not to draw someone in the middle of a conversation. “True, do you make pizza often?”

“No no,” he leaned against the wall, “I just watch videos, I think it’s interesting,”

“You seem like the type to cook,” he reached into his bag, pulling out his sketchbook, “my dorm has a kitchen if you want to practice,” there were recipes in here, he liked practicing his skills on what he made.

“There are dorms?” he asked, seeming genuinely interested.

He nodded, and started sketching out the basis of Jazz’s face before he remembered what he was looking for, “yeah, I live far away so my mom helped me fill out the dorm forms. I think submissions are closed now, but I could be wrong,” he flipped to the correct page, smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles in the paper. This wasn’t really the right time in the conversation to show off his recipes, so he just left it on the table.

“How do you check that?”

“The teachers would probably know,” he shrugged, “but it’s also on their website,”

“We have a website?”

“Not a very good one,”

“Ah,”

He closed his sketchbook, putting it back in his bag. “I’m gonna see what he’s up to,” Tellur gestured to the demon in the back.

“I didn’t even notice him there,” Jazz smiled, scratching the back of his neck, “here’s your wallet back by the way,”

Huh? When did he? “... Thanks,”

Tellur put the fabric pouch in his inner pocket, walking over to the purple haired demon.

“I’m Tellur,” he sat down across from him.

He stayed silent for a moment, “... Purson,”

He brought out his sketchbook again, flipping to the page with Jazz on it so he could finish.

“You’re good at drawing,” Purson stated, “I can draw, but I’m not very good at it. It’s more of a thing I do when I’m bored, how did you get better at it?” That was, more words than he expected.

“Practice I guess,” he shrugged, “it’s also fun for me,”

“That makes sense, I practice the trumpet, though I’m probably not even that good, I’m still an amateur. Did you know there’s a demon bird that sounds exactly like the trumpet? It’s called the trumpeter, which isn’t a very creative name. I wonder how much effort goes into naming new species that are found, because some names are questionable,” this was pretty nice to listen to, he didn’t have to do much for this conversation.

A girl with blue hair opened the door, being able to dodge most of them but ending with a spear lodged in her shoulder. She grumbled, turning back around and leaving, presumably to the infirmary.

Jazz came over to their table, sitting down with an easy stance. “Wanna make bets on who else comes in?” How does he bet again? He doesn’t think his mother would appreciate him using actual money. He has snacks in his jacket, that’d probably work.

Tellur pulled out a bag of pretzel sticks, putting them on the table, “I bet two sticks that the next demon will get hit in the leg,”

Jazz seemed a little disappointed at the offering, but he quickly took out something that Tellur didn’t recognize. Some kind of chocolate covered wafer.

“I’ll bet this that they’ll be hit in the stomach,”

He turned to look at Purson, a question on his lips about what he wanted to bet, only to find the other demon fading away. “Purson?”

The door opened again to show the blue haired girl quickly putting up an ice barrier to shield herself from further attacks, and when he looked back Purson was completely gone. Wayfinder showed that he was still there, just invisible. Which was so cool, that’d be so useful for mapping places out.

Jazz patted his shoulder as he got up, moving to talk to the new entree.

Things continued like this for a while, Jazz would go around collecting bets, people would get hit, and once any sort of attention was brought to Purson he'd quickly disappear.

Tellur ended up with more snacks than he started with, which is ultimately when he decided to stop betting and talk to Purson.

"... Do you have to be this close to me?" Purson asked, and he realized how close he had gotten to the other demon while they had been speaking. "Because I'm not really uncomfortable with it I'm just sorta confused and I don't know what to do from here," damn, he really was missing how many hugs his mom gave.

Before he could respond, there was a loud "charge!" That came from the door, followed by the trapped mechanism going off and someone dodging all the weapons that came their way.

Ah, Iruma was here, which meant Kalego-sensei was close behind.

There were a few cheers and whistles as the class gathered around Iruma, with Jazz handing out the winnings. He wished he remembered more, then he could know if things were on track.

His schedule said that today was the flying race, which he didn't remember much about. There was something about the guardian of cutthroat valley, and he got vibes of Sabnock being important.

"You're too loud you fools!" The door slammed open, and Tellur should start a counter for how many times that has happened. "I can hear you from all the way outside! Can't you just sit quietly,"

There was some muttering around Kalego as Clara circled him. Before he raised his voice again, "get outside right now idiots! Class is starting,"

The ones sitting down stood up, following him out. Jazz strayed behind and ended up close to Tellur again, and Purson was by his other side.

"So what do you think's going on?" He put his hands in his pockets, looking at the group of students.

"It's a flying race, at least that's what the schedules said. There could've been some last minute changes."

"They gave us a schedule?"

They crammed into the two transportation tents, and he reached into his jacket to pull out a folded up piece of paper.

"You can look at mine,"

"Oh thanks," he could see Jazz scanning over the sheet, "yeah I think I threw this away, I thought it was just for school breaks."

"There's extra details about the day's activities on the back," he smiled, standing on his tiptoes to more easily explain as they walked, "it's really cool, it changes with the day. I don't know the magic behind it though."

Jazz flipped it over as they walked, "hm, cutthroat valley's off limits,"

He nodded, looking around the floating island, "yeah, apparently it's too dangerous because of... Something," why couldn't he remember? It was right there on the paper before. This wasn't even from his past life.

"The guardian has been angered," Jazz supplied, "definitely not going that way then."

"Since you two are already buddy buddy," Kalego stalked over, a scowl on his face. Tellur wasn't sure what he did for this, "you will be keeping an eye on Izayoi during this race." He pointed at Jazz.

"Why? Not that I'm complaining," he leaned over, flicking the half up bun Tellur had his hair in, "but he doesn't seem like the type to run off."

Damn, the side eye this teacher had, "Izayoi has a medical condition, if you want more details ask him yourself."

He felt his face flush with embarrassment as Jazz looked over curiously, "I uh, it's not that bad, I just zone out for a while sometimes and nothing really gets through to me y'know?"

The look on his face suggested that he did not, in fact, know, but Jazz didn't press for anything else, "alright, just stick with me then,"

He nodded gratefully. There shouldn't be any reason for him to zone out, but he couldn't deny the fact that he liked having a safeguard.

"I will now explain the routes," Kalego held up the pink teacher's guide, his eye twitching the longer it went on. "It's a bit longer, but you can take the chill, relaxing course through warbling valley. And then there's the cutthroat valley course,"

Which they wouldn't be going through.

... What is he forgetting? Maybe he should just write it down and damn the consequences if it gets found.

"There are countless dangers and traps along the way! Beware of the mountains, and the demon birds trying to protect their nests! Okay then, let's go-" Kalego slammed the teaching guide into the ground, which added another to his count.

The class stayed still, and Tellur poked his head out to see the damage done to the guide. Which wasn't as much as he expected.

"That's it for the explanation," Kalego stated, ignoring Sabnock's comment, "the warbling valley is the only option available this year."

"Hold it! Why?!" Sabnock stepped forward, and why was he so loud? Tall too, Tellur could probably climb him like a tree in the most literal sense.

"For some reason, the guardian of cutthroat valley has been moody lately," why was this important? Something about Iruma? Well of course it is, the whole manga is about Iruma.

"Well I'm going through cutthroat valley! Nothing else will suffice!" Sabnock yelled, pointing at himself.

"Like I care, the course will stay the same. Prepare yourselves!" Kalego sensei threw out his arm towards the starting line. He crouched slightly, preparing to let out his wings.

"What about you Eggie-sensei!" He looked over to Clara, his eyes glancing at both her and Kalego's expressions before he looked back to Jazz.

"I will be waiting at the finish line," his permanent scowl didn't fade, and he felt like it must hurt to keep up that glare for so long. Maybe he just needed glasses, Tellur knew that in his past life he had to squint exactly like that before he got contacts. "As of now the flying race has officially begun!"

He launched himself into the air, flapping a few times to get a good bearing before looking around for Jazz.

Who had snuck up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder, "yo,"

He fell a few feet in surprise, but quickly started laughing as he rose again. "Don't do that!"

There was an odd look on Jazz's face when he looked up again, and he couldn't quite tell what it was, "what? It made you laugh,"

He covered his face with a hand, hiding his snickering. Then he ducked down, folding his wings into a dive. Tellur grew up in the mountains, he knew how to fly around unexpected obstacles. He doubted Jazz could pull off the same maneuver.

The startled squawk told him his observation was correct, so he took pity on his new ally and flew back up at a slower pace. Giggling as he watched the other demon fly towards him.

Jazz ruffled his hair when he got there, messing up the bun that he had in place. He quickly took out the cord and ran his claws through his hair before it could tangle.

"Don't be so dramatic," Jazz messed up his hair again the moment he took his hands away.

"Hey! My hair tangles easily," he grumbled, trying in vain to fix his bun.

"Oh no," he ruffled it again, "anyways,"

"Staaahp," he whined, covering his head with his hands, "you don't even have a hairstyle that I can ruin!"

He just laughed at him, and before he knew it they met up with another group. This one with Allocer and a kid with hair that looked like a mop. Damn, why did he forget his name?

Maybe something with a g? Goeman? Or was that the sleepy kid?

Jazz swooped down and swiped an egg, startling the nearby birds. "How much do you think this could sell for?"

"If you're going to boil it, do so for eight minutes." Allocer said.

Tellur looked at the egg, then at Jazz. "Lemme see?" He asked, flying closer.

Jazz handed the egg to him, and he proceeded to put it in his mouth. Crunching down on the shell while Jazz just stared at him in some form of bewilderment.

"A dozen would probably be four sixteen," he nodded, swallowing the last of the yolk.

Goeman cleared his throat, “I have snacks, if you want something less liquid.”

He looked over, an intrigued reply on his tongue before they suddenly got swarmed by birds.

Goeman unsheathed his sword, and the resounding winds sent the birds flocking them flying. Away from them. The birds were already flying beforehand.

He steadied himself in the air as Jazz and Allocer complimented the white mop, who flushed and waved his hands around.

Could he fly and draw? He's never tried it before, but he isn't in a rush currently. He pulled out his sketchbook, situating himself in the air and jotting down the basics of Allocer's face.

It was an interesting challenge, looking out for obstacles while working on something mildly delicate. He could use this time to write down what he remembered as well, which currently wasn't a lot.

He decided to start with the things that had already happened, the entrance ceremony, the familiar summoning, the fight. They were going through the flight race right now, in which Iruma would get the ring.

Oh! He remembered that! And that was directly relevant to his current situation!

He's so proud of himself.

There was something else, then Walter Park. Where there were 3 monsters? 1 monster? He'll put it down as 1 to 3 for now.

He looked up again to make sure he wasn't about to run into anything, and saw Jazz laughing with the group. Well that smile just needed to be immortalized didn't it. Looking back down with a soft smile of his own, he started on the basics of the sketch.

Goeman wandered over, looking at the book with a curious posture, “what are you working on?”

He scrambled, closing the book quickly with an embarrassed flush, “nothing!” He didn't know why he was so panicked, he had nothing to hide or be embarrassed about.

Well there was the timeline of events, but he wrote that in English so it was probably fine.

When he looked back down at his book, preparing himself mentally to show off his drawings, he found his hands empty. He really should've guessed that, the moment he reacted like that the book had value, and demons are very greedy.

Looking up frantically he was met with the sight of Jazz flipping through the contents with Goeman and Allocer.

“Wha- hey!” He flew over, careful not to actually touch any of them while he felt this uncontrolled with his emotions. It was funny, despite his embarrassment, he was actually having fun. And the look on his face must've given it away, because they only kept the book away from him more, “come on! It's embarrassing!”

Jazz snickered, thumbing through the pages. “You're a good artist, is this your mom?”

He flushed, making sure to be careful as he grabbed the other demons shoulder, “y-yeah, she gave me the book,”

The energy seemed to calm down, and it was more peaceful watching them comment on his art. Most of the stuff they were looking through was old, from a few years ago at least.

“This thing has a lot of paper,” Goeman commented, tilting his head at the relative smallness of the book, “those are some pretty nice runes,”

“My mom works in runic study,” he supplied, turning to look at the other student.

“intriguing,” Allocer put a hand up to his mouth, “have you also learned?”

He shrugged, “a little, I know enough to enchant my own stuff, but I don't know the history behind it. Are you interested in runes?”

Allocer nodded, “it's a complicated system, though lasts much longer than traditional spells.”

He brightened up, “I know right! I have runes on most of my clothing to make them stain and water resistant,” then he looked down at his jacket, holding up the bottom bit to show off the charred characters, “I have to burn them in, but embroidery would last a lot longer,”

“Woah, look it's Kalego-sensei,” Jazz pointed out, holding up the book with his sketch of the teacher. Tellur felt his face heat up again, so he'd gotten to the closer dates. Yay.

“Oooh,” Goeman looked over the drawing, “very life-like, look at the scowl,”

“And then, I think that's a student council member,” Jazz flipped through the latest pages, “there's a lot of me,”

His eyes widened, and he snatched back the book, “I think we're done,” he hid his embarrassed blush with said sketch book.

“Huh? You're not even gonna show them their drawings?” Jazz teased, and he's sure the book would've been taken again if not for the fact that he can literally hear the leather straining in his grasp. He loosened his grip a bit, then handed it over while looking the other direction.

He was embarrassed, but he also didn't want to be the reason the fun stopped.

Jazz's hand brushed his, and he knew it was on purpose, because there was not a single chance that the infuriating demon would've accidentally alerted him like that. What sort of plan did he have? What was the reasoning for his actions? Tellur wanted to study him.

No, no. Bad Tellur. Demons aren't things he can put under a microscope and analyze. That's creepy, weird, and not a good basis for a friendship.

“Wait, I have feathers in my hair?” Goeman reached up to his head, feeling around before plucking out the debris, “why did no one tell me?”

He shrugged, stifling a laugh. “Just didn't notice them,”

“You drew them!”

The flight continued like this, bickering and joking while calmly making their way to the finish. He was handed back his sketchbook once they were finished looking through, and sometimes, sometimes he just really wishes he had a comprehensive guide on the emotions of demons around him, because the look Jazz gave him of amusement and something else made his stomach crawl with confusion. Just confusion.

He's not obsessed.

He simply knows a good ally to have when he sees one, even if his motives are mysterious.

Oh Devi, what if Jazz thinks he has a crush on him? That'd be so embarrassing! Probably more embarrassing then actually having a crush on him.

He just needs to work out his action plan, then this misunderstanding will be resolved and-

Was that smoke?

He sniffed the air, looking around, “do you smell smoke?”

The others looked up from their conversation, glancing around.

“Yeah, I think. Must be Asmodeus,” Jazz said, and he… what was he doing? He looked down, seeing the scorched remains of the ground.

“Ah, that's convenient for us,” there was laughing, “he must've dealt with all the obstacles when he went ahead,”

There was more talking, but he couldn't. Everything seemed to be underwater, which was good, water was good. Water put out the fires, and the fires,

The fires…

Was it always this warm? It was the start of school so it should've been cold, or cool at least. But he felt like he was overheating, which didn't make sense with the goosebumps along his skin.

Something touched his arm, and he flinched, quickly looking at the perpetrator.

Oh, it was Jazz. His lips were moving, but he couldn't hear him over the buzzing. The smoke smell was stronger now, and he was, lower? When did he fall?

Something covered his mouth and nose, it wasn't soft, but it also wasn't rough. More like a smooth material with the smell of something citrus and alcoholic. The alcohol wasn't the best smell in the world, but he couldn't smell the smoke anymore.

Jazz was speaking again, and while he could hear him, he couldn't understand. It sounded garbled, even as the buzzing slowly faded.

Goeman and Allocer looked over with worry on their faces, which he didn't like. How could he call himself a demon if he couldn't even get through the first challenge without incident?

“-st take deep breaths,” he breathed in through his nose, making sure he didn't get any drool on the jacket. He could see now that it was Jazz's. “Nice, there you go.”

This was so embarrassing, he couldn't believe he needed help this early on. And he basically flaunted his weakness for the other three to see.

“You're okay,” Jazz’s voice was gentle, and this only served to embarrass him more, “you good now?”

He nodded, looking away with a flush. Hopefully the others couldn't see it on account of the jacket covering his face. Eugh. He reached up to take the jacket off his face, but Jazz stopped him.

“I still smell smoke, I'll tell you when to take it off.”

Tellur nodded, reaching for his sketchbook instead. He wanted to pass the time somehow.

The others settled back into hesitant conversation, which eventually grew back to the levels it was before.

After a while, the finish was in sight, and it seemed like they were the second group to get there. He could see Clara and Asmodeus there already.

So they were making alright time, that was good.

They touched down, and he handed the jacket back to Jazz, taking a tentative sniff of the air. It was thankfully smoke free, likely thanks to the wind flowing the other way.

Jazz slung an arm around his shoulders, leading him over to a less populated part of the island, “do you wanna talk about it?”

He wrung his claws together, “... I'm sorry you had to help,”

“Eh?”

He stared at the ground, digging his talons into the dirt, “you shouldn't’ve had to do that, I should've been better at holding myself together. But I was weak, and you had to step in,” he bowed, and before he could say anything else, a hand ruffled his hair.

“None of that, it's not weak to have a medical condition,” he raised his head to see Jazz smiling at him, “I actually think you're pretty strong, I mean, you were the only one to block all the weapons first try,” he scratched the back of his neck with the hand that wasn't on Tellur's head, “that was pretty awesome,”

Tellur's eyes widened, and he felt his face heat up. “Thank you,” he stated clearly, despite how much he wanted to mutter and mumble. He stood up straight, and for a moment forgot how short he really was as he looked up at Jazz, “I, uh,” his face heated up further, and his eyes felt like they were drying out, “I'm going over here now! Bye!”

He could hear a chuckle behind him as he retreated, so he kept his head down and relocated himself on the opposite side of the floating island. He crossed his legs underneath himself, pulling out his sketchbook and resolutely ignoring the outside world.

It was when he was done with another drawing of Kalego that he realized there wouldn't be a much better opportunity to practice with Wayfinder. Most everyone was separated, and they were all moving moderately fast.

There was a group of students somewhat close to finishing, he could feel Camui, Keroli, Elizabetta, the sleepy kid, and Lead. Purson was close behind them.

Sabnock and Iruma were in cutthroat valley, which was to be expected. The two of them were troublemakers. Though it was a little weird how far away they were considering Iruma's lack of wings-

He opened his sketchbook again, quickly flipping to his notes page and writing ‘Iruma is human’ down before he could forget it. Which made a lot more plot make sense. And there was, who was it? He remembered Narnia shaping up to be a villain, and someone, blue.

There were a lot of blue people.

The next group of students landed, he could hear conversations starting up and filling the space with casual noise. It was nice, sitting back to listen. Gave him a better opportunity to observe and draw. The better he knew them, the better he could find them.

Purson sat next to him eventually, leaning against his side as he watched him draw. The silence was nice, calm. There wasn't any pressure to break it.

"I feel like it'll be a while before the race ends," Purson leaned a bit more on his shoulder, and he found himself thankful for the contact. "Neither Sabnock nor Iruma have come back yet and they're the most likely to get into trouble, so classes are probably going to drag on for a while which is a bummer because I wanted to spend a while catching up on this book I like,"

"Yeah, I wanted to read more into the syllabus,"

"That's a good idea, means we could probably get some studying in early so we won't have to worry as much about the exams," oh yeah, studying. Come to think of it, he should probably be studying Purson as well, it wouldn't be good for him to get lost. "Would you like to make a study group with me? You seem really smart and I had a lot of trouble with the entrance exam so I figured that we could go over it together."

"Yeah!" He smiled, turning to look at Purson, "I think that's a great idea," he started cataloging the other demons features, trying to strengthen the bond within Wayfinder the best he could, "there was some stuff that I also had trouble with, I think I'm lucky I did so well,"

~~

After 3 hours, they all gathered around the finish line, looking out at the course.

"There's no point in waiting," huh? He looked at Kalego-sensei, watching him strike Iruma's name off the clipboard, "those who do not return will be left behind."

Clara kept calling out to the course, waving a tall red flag. "Iruma-chi!"

"Silence, the lesson is over. I will now announce the ranks."

"Hold it," Asmodeus stated, "Iruma-sama isn't here yet,"

"They're coming this way," Tellur, stepped forward, and he felt his face being pulled into a frown as he looked up at the professor. "We can't end the lesson yet sensei,"

He saw Kalego's mouth open, likely to say something about how they would leave anyways, when the winds picked up intensely. Forcing him to cling onto his jacket so it didn't get swept away.

And holy shit, that was a big bird. The biggest bird perhaps. It looked so amazingly fluffy, he wanted a bed made out of those feathers. And he wanted to draw it.

Where did the genes for feathers even come from for most netherworld ‘bird's? The wing shape looked like an actual birds, with a main bone section and longer feathers consisting of primary, secondary, and another -dary that he forgot the name of. His own wings had membranes covered in feathers, which made it feel like feathers were a cosmetic choice for evolution. Which is absurd, evolution doesn't make purely cosmetic choices for something as big as having feathers. Especially not with that much variation. He should probably ask Balam-sensei about it, if anyone would know it'd be him.

Maybe it was a stealth advantage, he'd noticed during the flying race that his wing beats were much quieter than others.

The guardian of cutthroat valley didn't land, but it hovered close to the island for the two students. Iruma sent it away with bows and thanks as Sabnock stared at the human with admiration.

If he hadn't known this would happen, he would probably be in the same state. To tame a beast such as that was no small feat. Especially as a human.

That didn't save either of them from being put in the corner like unruly toddlers.

"I will now announce your ranks," Kalego held out his arm and the rank owl descended, landing on his shoulder. "This is a rank owl, he was watching and examining your every move."

"We've sure seen a lot of birds today," Lied was somewhere by Ix, Tellur couldn't see him from where he was. There were too many people in the way. But Clara was in front of him, and Jazz was next to him.

"It's birdy bird day!" And Tellur should also be cataloging her, and everyone else, it would be nice to have a map of his classmates when the harvest festival comes around.

"And there's that other bird too," Jazz snickered, and Tellur hid his mouth with a hand so he wouldn't be caught laughing as well.

"Moving on," Kalego continued, "if you put your hand inside its pouch, it will award you your rank badge." He had forgotten Kalego was rank Chet, that was a good reminder. "Alright! Line up!"

He pointed at a spot and Tellur was quick to slide next to Purson. Which meant he would be fourth to get his rank.

"By the way, you two numbskulls will go last," he waved a hand at Iruma and Sabnock, whom Clara started throwing rocks at.

Wow, harsh.

Asmodeus went first, getting Dalet, and Jazz showed Tellur and Purson his Gimmel badge with a smile. Keroli got Bet, as did Purson.

Tellur was expecting Alef when he reached into the pouch, considering he didn't really do anything. But being Gimmel made him unusually happy.

Maybe it was because he matched with Jazz. That must be it. Though he was surprised at the high level.

Wait, he still needed to go to the infirmary, this class wasn't supposed to take all day. Fuck.

His thoughts were cut off by the screeching of the rank owl, flapping away while Iruma looked horribly lost. Upon further inspection he had a ring on his right hand that definitely wasn't there before.

Alikred? That was the ring's name right? Or was it Solomon?

"It, won't, come, off!" Iruma pulled on the ring, and a shadow came out to hover over his shoulder. Ah, yeah it was Alikred.

Didn't it scream or something? He remembers something about a scream.

"A ring? That's kind of," Jazz backed up as Iruma came closer, so Tellur decided to follow him. It didn't look dangerous right now, but he also didn't want to test it.

Once Iruma realized it was there he shook the hand wildly, "cut it off! Cut it off!"

"Stop waving it around!"

Then the shadow seemed to increase in size, before letting out a deafening scream. Tellur dropped to his knees, covering his ears with his hands. Damn.

"Ow, ow owwwwwwwww," he muttered to himself, maybe he would have to go to the infirmary for two reasons. Whatever was wrong with his brain and broken eardrums.

The noise at least stopped when Iruma started rocking it, but he didn't open his eyes yet. Everything hurt, and he was sure if he had to face the sun he'd have the worst headache imaginable.

There was soft singing, and the commotion changed from panicked to amused. With people saying and shouting things he couldn't quite understand.

Tellur opened his eyes and got up, but his head still felt like it was underwater. Why wasn't anybody else reacting this way? They all seemed fine, he just needed to be better. Just, what are they saying?

Sabnock fell to the ground, shortly followed by Asmodeus as the shadow feasted on their mana.

Deep breath in, deep breath out. If he can just breathe everything will be better. He needed to...

"Alright then!" He looked up to see the principal filling the shadow with mana, which retreated back into the ring.

There were a few relieved sighs and gasps from his classmates, and the Chair demon started explaining what the ring was. But he couldn't help but feel like he missed something. He had his eyes open, and he was paying attention, so why was it so jarring to see this.

Ugh, his brain is useless.

~~

After the lesson ended, he made his way to his dorm first, picking up the folder he was given on his last visit before heading to the infirmary.

He hadn't had a chance to actually give it to his mom yet, but he felt like it would still be important.

The infirmary was the same as before, with light walls and windows that he didn't see last time. Though when he came in a demon led him to a side room, where he could see the nurse that helped him last time and his mother.

His mom immediately got up, hugging him tightly and smushing the folder of papers, "Tellur! When they said they needed to meet with me I was so worried you had gotten hurt! But I'm happy that we're just getting you help,"

"Mom," he closed his eyes tightly to block out the tears, it had only been a week, there was no need to cry. "... I got rank Gimmel," he muttered, and if it wasn't for the folder he was holding he'd hug her back.

"I'm so proud of you honey," he could hear the smile in her voice, and he relaxed even more, "your mama got Alef on her first rank exam."

The nurse cleared his throat, straightening the papers he had, "shall we get this meeting underway?"

His mother nodded, pulling away from him to sit down. "Of course," he sat down next to her before handing her the folder.

"My name is Buer Blushenko, it has come to my attention that your son is experiencing intense dissociation episodes." Oh shit, Blushenko was a teacher, not a nurse. Tellur was kind of an idiot. "Which is what I wanted to talk about today. Can you tell me how long he's been having these episodes?"

"Of course," this was so embarrassing, "he's had them since he was born, I worried about him so much as a baby, he would hardly ever cry for days on end, and I would have to check on him every hour to make sure he had what he needed." She wrapped her arm around his shoulders, and he decided he could be a little embarrassed if it meant his mom was with him.

"And growing up he always seemed mature, especially for how young he was. It's why I had to homeschool him," mom please, Blushenko-sensei doesn't need to hear every moment of his childhood, "do you think the two things could be related?"

Blushenko nodded, writing something down, "yes. Normally dissociative episodes like this stem from some kind of traumatic event. Can you tell me other ways in which he was an odd child." Or apparently he did, what does he know?

"He was always quiet, he would never cry when he got hurt." His mom tapped her fingers on his shoulder, and he relaxed into her side, "he would pick things up so quickly that I had trouble making curriculum. He was always so smart, even made up his own language!" His blood went cold, and he hunched his shoulders to escape their gazes.

"He made a whole language?"

"Yes, Tellur made it when he was little. He spoke in it often when he got irritated or distressed. And he would sing with it too! I always wondered why you stopped." He didn't, he just sung where she couldn't see because he was speaking english and if she found out she'd-

What? What would she do? Why has he been hiding? She wouldn't cast him away, or stop loving him. She might be worried, but she was already worried. If he told her, then he could talk about it, talk about how much it all hurt. He couldn't see how he would lose with this.

"... It's english," he muttered, looking away, "and I didn't make it up."

“I see,” Blushenko kept an even and calm face, he couldn't tell what he was thinking in the slightest, “where did you learn it, if I can ask,”

He fidgeted, picking at the scales on his claws. His mother put her hand on top of his to stop the action, but didn't say anything. “... I,” was he actually going to go through with this? He wasn't sure about what he had to lose or gain, he wasn't sure about what was paranoia and what was rational. He still had those stupid, unsure hormones of a teenager despite his memories.

Blushenko made a humming sound, "I see, do you know what a reincarnate is?" He shook his head, Tellur could make a guess but he wanted the exact definition, "it's when someone remembers their previous life. It's rare, and many claim to have visions of the future."

He raised his head quickly, staring at him with wide eyes. Literally how did he come to that conclusion so quickly? It was the right one, but still. He's never underestimating these teachers again.

"It's clear you have some sort of trauma left over from your last life," that was... So easy. Blushenko-sensei just said it up front, "for this I would suggest counseling. I can make you a list of good therapists that would be okay with handling a fledgling. But until then, if you could tell me what triggers you have then I could inform your homeroom teacher about what to look out for,"

Why was he so happy? Blushenko was just doing his job and yet, he felt like he couldn't stop smiling.

"Yes! Thank you sensei," he bowed his head, “I've noticed that fire and smoke seem to be the main causes,”

"What methods have worked to get you back to your senses?"

"I uh, had an episode during the flying race," he muttered, shrinking back at the concerned look his mother gave him, "but one of my allies put his jacket in front of my mouth so I smelled that instead of the smoke. I don't know how long that was, but it worked well."

"Okay, thank you," he wrote something down on the clipboard, "could you leave the room for a moment so I can speak with your mother?"

He nodded, standing up and giving his mother a hug before walking outside. Tellur waited at the door to hear what was going on, tilting his head to better understand.

"I want to know what I can be doing better for someone like him," his mother stated, and wow these walls were decently soundproofed. It sounded like a whisper.

"I think the best thing you can do is be there for him," Blushenko-sensei said, "and remember that he is fourteen, he may have all these memories, but that doesn't change how old he is,"

Tellur backed away from the door, leaning against one of the infirmary walls. What did that even mean? Of course it changed how old he was, he didn't feel fourteen-

That was a lie, but still. How was age calculated? Was it all the years a person had lived? Was it how old their body was? It probably wasn't how old their mind was, because he can imagine that mental age is a completely different thing altogether.

He felt kinda silly having worried about the trip, nothing bad came of it. And a counselor actually sounded useful, maybe he could get stronger then.

Chapter Text

When homeroom ended on Tuesday, Tellur stayed back until everyone had left before asking his question.

"Kalego-sensei?"

"What," the teacher's scowl worsened.

"Do you know where I could find Balam-sensei?" Kalego's scowl seemed to lighten, and Tellur couldn't remember if the two of them were married or not. Judging by his reaction it seemed like they were.

"He'd be in the teachers prep room after hours," He waved his hand, and Tellur knew that meant he should be leaving now, "get to class."

"Thank you Sensei!" He beamed, grabbing his bag and heading out the door. Now all he needed to do was figure out where the prep room was.

~~

It was a scare when he walked into Suzy-sensei’s class and felt the pinging of the student council member he drew. It was even more of a scare when he looked up, and locked eyes with said council member.

He froze in the doorway, and Jazz came up behind him and followed his gaze.

“Woah, isn’t that the guy you were drawing earlier?” he said, pointing very obviously at their upperclassman.

His face heated up in embarrassment, and he ducked his head, “Jazz? Shut.” he muttered, hiding his face. He didn’t know how much his upperclassman could hear from there, and he was not interested in testing it. The laugh that got made his face flush further. He kept his head down on his way to his desk, making sure not to glance at his upperclassman. There was no need to look at him, he knew where he was either way.

… but he kinda wanted to draw him.

No, it’ll just be more embarrassing.

“It’s time for a magic lesson yis,” Suzy-sensei handed out pots, placing each one in front of a student. “Everyone hold your hands above the special seedlings and say Quan Quan,” his mother taught him this a while ago, but he’s never tried it with this malleable of a seedling. What should he even grow? A sketchbook flower? Maybe pencils?

What did he want to see again? From his old life, what could he draw?

There were a lot of flowers he missed, honeysuckle, lupin, sunflowers. It, it would be nice to see those again.

He shouldn’t think about it too hard, it seemed to reflect the user’s personality anyways, he probably wouldn’t be able to grow those flowers.

Tellur put his hand over the pot, “Quan Quan,” watching the flower shoot up like a tree.

The flowers looked soft and orange, the stem was a lanky thing that seemed more like wood then flower stem. He liked it, the flowers were concentrated in large clusters, and when he put his hand over them they glowed.

Oh, that was cute. They were warm.

“Yis, I give it an A,” he startled, yanking his hand away from the flower and knocking the pot to the ground. Shit, shit shit shit. “Oh dear,”

“Sorry!” He scooted back, looking around the room for a broom, “so sorry,” there! He grabbed it, quickly sweeping the broken shards into a pile.

“It's okay yis,” she patted his shoulder, “everyone makes mistakes,”

He took a deep breath in, letting it out slowly to calm his jumpiness. Why was he so anxious? There was no reason for this, if he could just calm down then he'd be fine.

He gathered the dirt and pot shards in the dustpan, “do you want me to save the dirt? Or should I just throw it all away?” It was a little sad he didn't get to look at his flower more, but whatever.

“You can throw it away yis,” she smiled, though it seemed like she was always smiling, “the trash can is over there,”

He nodded, walking over while he watched her grade the other students. It seemed more like an entry exercise, the class after today would probably be harder. He didn't want to let his guard down for this, that's how people failed.

… maybe his mom did traumatize him a bit, just with academics.

That was the moment a bright light overtook the room, and he watched in awe as a sakura tree grew to frankly insane proportions, picking up nearby students and dragging them up to the sky. Tellur latched onto the branch with his talons, waving his arms to keep his balance.

He saw something bright blue falling out of the corner of his eye, and dove after it instantly, Iruma. He caught the main character under his armpits, spreading out his wings to stop the fall in its tracks. Okay, that definitely wasn’t meant to happen. Iruma should’ve hung onto a branch and been safe and fine and not falling.

Tellur flew back up, depositing the blue boy on one of the thickest branches.

“Hang on next time somethings going up,” he folded his wings up, hiding them in their roots once again. The poor boy was shaking, and he would be too if he didn’t have wings. “Or tell people you can’t fly.” he tapped Iruma’s forehead, “use this,”

Iruma gave him a confused and thankful look, “how did you?”

Wait, he forgot he wasn’t meant to know. Welp, “I saw you falling, I figured you weren’t the type for an impromptu obstacle course,”

He smiled brightly, and Tellur felt guilt twist in his gut. “Thank you! I would’ve been a goner,” the smile shifted to a sheepish look, “I wasn’t really expecting that,”

Tellur backed away as Clara and Asmodeus surrounded Iruma again, congratulating him on his magic. “Remember,” he stated, digging his talons into the bark so he wouldn’t try to leave, “tell someone, you can’t always rely on people noticing you,” Asmodeus smelled like smoke, and he didn’t want to be around him for too long. He loosened his grip on the wood, releasing his wings and taking a step off the tree.

He heard Clara say “Tell us what Iruma-chi?” through the wind rustling around him, he could only hope that Iruma wasn’t an idiot. He doesn’t remember much about him other than being self-sacrificing and human. Which was one of the worst combinations to be in the netherworld.

The diabotany tower was a mess, and he stepped deliberately to avoid the broken glass. Unlike most students, he didn’t have shoes to take the damage. He just needed to tread carefully, broken glass in his foot didn’t sound appealing.

What class did he have next? Was it Pharmacology? Where was his schedule? Why was it in his left pocket? He usually puts it in his right.

Yeah, pharmacology. Was that taught by Blushenko-sensei? That'd be nice, Tellur doesn't know too much about pharmacology yet.

He unfolded the paper, looking at the map. He remembered being amazed at first when he saw these types of maps, the path updating in real time with how he walked. Magic is just so amazing, he can only wonder about what brilliant things human scientists could be able to do with it.

Should he join the new magic battler? He was interested in it, but he also really wanted to join the diabotany battler. Could he join more than one?

He pushed open the door, peeking his head inside the empty room. Where was everyone?

“Do you need something Izayoi?” He whirled around quickly, looking up at Blushenko-sensei, “or should I return you to your proper class,”

He talked so formal-like, was he irritated? He looked a little angry about something, maybe his other students were unruly.

“Oh, is it not next period?” He tilted his head, folding up his map again, “I figured the rest of class was cancelled because of the destruction of the diabotany tower,”

“The what?” oh, did he not know?

“Yeah, Iruma did the spell and the light was like ahhh,” he covered his eyes, “and then there was a giant sakura tree-mpt of some kind that I know very little about,” he put his hands back down, watching the expression on Blushenko-sensei's face twist into something that was definitely irritated. Though he got the feeling it wasn't at him.

“Thank you for informing me, let's get you back to class,” he smiled and- where was his sketchbook? He just kept misplacing things today. Would it be rude to start drawing him right now? Maybe, he should definitely draw the tree as well, it's the only semi earth thing he's seen in so long.

How did sunflowers look again? Definitely tall. And yellow. And also maybe edible.

“So what extent is ‘destroyed’ exactly?”

“I think the foundation's fine, but the roof's gone,”

“The roof-? Never mind, I'll see it myself I suppose,”

~

The rest of the school day passed with little other issues. He paid close attention to the subjects, writing down what he wasn't familiar with to research later. The library was close to the dorms, which was convenient.

Wasted less time on travel.

He had a better grasp on where the rooms were, cementing their locations and paths in his head. But the map was really helpful, he could tap on a location and it would show him the fastest route.

It reminded him of something in his past life, but those memories were always tinged with annoyance.

He honestly had a lot of fun, his classes were interesting and the conversations he had with Purson and Jazz made things more entertaining.

Tellur and Purson agreed on meeting up on wednesday to start preparing for exams, Jazz was invited, but declined. Saying something about not wanting to worry about it so early.

And when the last bell rang, he waved to his allies and started on his way to the prep room.

~

Tellur stared up at the large door, taking a deep breath before knocking.

The door opened a sliver, revealing a hunched figure with unkempt hair, a metal mask, and intense eyes. This was it, he just needed to take a breath, and memorize.

He had most of the teachers drawn in his notebook already, but knowing where the competent adults were was very important.

“Hi,” he smiled, ignoring the urge to reach for his sketchbook, “are you Balam-sensei?”

He tilted his head, his eyes turning up in a smile. It was a little creepy, the way shadows hid his eyes.

Large hands picked him up suddenly, and it felt like being back with his mom when he was younger. “Yes, I am. What brings you here?”

He let his feet hang, idly swinging them as he was brought into the room, “Kalego-sensei said you'd be here, I was wondering if you had any tips for strength control,”

Balam-sensei hummed, setting him down in a chair and going quiet for a moment, “... Would you like some tea?”

He nodded, looking around the room. It was cleaner than he expected, with a large window that let in natural light. There was a bookshelf to his left, and to the side of the door was a large assortment of potions. He tapped his talons idly against the wooden legs of the chair as he waited for Balam-sensei to finish.

Before long, the teacher came back with a singular cup, pouring the tea into it and handing it to Tellur. And, shit. Why the hell was it made of porcelain? He can see the wooden cups in the other room.

He took the cup very carefully, trying not to let his hands shake as he took a sip.

“You seem to already recognize when something needs a delicate touch, that's good,” Balam-sensei said, his voice echoing through his mask. It made for a cool effect, but Tellur's not sure whether he knew about it or not, “but you're constantly paying attention to it, which isn't bad! But if you're handling multiple situations at once you won't be able to pay much attention,”

That… made sense. A lot of sense actually. He stayed quiet, listening to Balam-sensei explain. Someone wouldn't be able to protect anyone while fighting if they ended up hurting them by accident.

“And so,” Balam tapped the teacup lightly, “I'm giving this to you. I want you to hold it during all of your lessons,”

Eh?

“Don't worry,” Tellur could see his eyes turn up with a smile, “I'll teach you a spell to repair it for when it gets broken,” wow, harsh. Not even an ‘if’.

That would actually be really helpful though, it probably works on more than just teacups.

“The incantation is ‘Lapra’, just imagine what it looked like before as you were saying it,” demons probably didn't have kintsugi, that made him unreasonably sad. “It works on most inorganic things, so it's pretty handy,” ah, wouldn't work on clothes then.

… should he ask?

“... Sensei? Have you heard of kintsugi?”

He made a questioning noise, tilting his head. “I can't say I have, what is it?”

Fuck, fuck. Why did he have to open his big mouth. Okay, calm down, think and breathe. He doesn't know that it's a human concept, and Tellur doesn't know if all of the teachers have been made aware of his condition or just Kalego-sensei. There's no reason to panic.

Except for sensei's bloodline ability and fuck.

“It's, uh.” Maybe he can just go with the definition, then it'll be fine. “It's when a porcelain pot or cup is broken and it's glued back together with gold. It's really pretty,”

Don't ask anymore question don't ask anymore questions don't ask anymore questions don't ask anymore-

“that's interesting? Where was it developed?” Fuck.

Something hot spilled onto his lap, and it took him a moment to register that he'd broken the teacup, “sorry sorry!”

He started gathering up the shards, and he could see Balam-sensei standing in his peripheral. “It's all right, I'll get something to clean that up,”

Fuck, he was so stupid. Only select high ranking demons knew about humans. He just needed to be more careful, Balam-sensei is the one demon he can't bullshit about this.

Well, he would probably have a hard time bullshitting all the teachers, but Balam-sensei would know for certain that he was lying.

He sighed, drawing the water from his clothes and just sorta holding it there. There wasn't really a good place to dispose of it. He could hurl it out the window but then it might hit somebody, or a magical beast. He wasn't sure which would be worse, though both would probably be funny until he faced the consequences.

Never mind, hitting a demon with it would probably be worse. And so much funnier.

Balam-sensei walked in, stopping his second thoughts.

“I brought some tissues,” he smiled, “but it seems like you don't need them,”

“I might,” he ducked his head, looking at the cup shards. He wanted to fix it, but he also couldn't let the water drop, “I have nowhere to put this,”

“There's a sink in here,” Balam took the shards from him, and how was he so effortlessly gentle? Did he also do the teacup trick? Or was it just his experience in handling magical beasts?

He stood up, following his teacher to the kitchenette. It was pretty, with jars of different herbs and blends on the shelves. It made him wonder how many were teas and how many were medicines. He led the water into the sink, letting his control drop once he was sure it wouldn't splash.

“Are these all teas?”

“Most of them,” he was handed back the cup shards, “this will be good practice, try the spell,”

“...” Tellur stared down at the cup, running his thumb over one of the edges. He should probably keep his hands clear, just in case, “lapra,”

The cup shards started to float, fitting back together perfectly. There wasn't any shine or glow to show that it had worked, but when he poked the porcelain, it held together. That was cool, would it also work on large inorganics? Or was it just handheld items?

“Wow, first try,” there was a hand on his head, gently petting it. It wasn't messing up his bun, so it was fine, “you have some impressive mana control for a first year,”

“I do?” He didn't look up, that would mess up his bun. Though he wanted to see his teacher's expression.

He heard an affirmative hum, “you do,” oh, why was he… so happy? That wasn't anything special, mana control was simple.

Why was he so happy getting praised for something so small?

“... Thank you,” he smiled, finally turning his head to look at Balam-sensei, “you're really not as scary as people say,”

The teacher beamed, and Tellur caught himself wondering how Balam-sensei and Kalego-sensei were married. It kinda made sense, classic grumpy and sunshine trope.

He bowed, holding the teacup gently, “thank you for the teacup, and the lesson. I’ll follow your instructions sensei,”

His hair was pet again, and when the hand pulled away he took that as his sign to straighten up.

“If you need any help at all, you can come find me,” he wouldn’t have to find him, he’d always know where he is.

… that sounded a bit creepy now that he thought about it. Was he technically a stalker? That was a moral discussion for another day, preferably far in the future.

“I will!” He opened the door, careful not to hold the teacup too tight, “see you sensei!”

Ah, that was fun. He still needed to stop by the library. Maybe he should do a bit more research on imaginary creatures so he knows what knowledge is commonplace. Eh, just another book to add onto his ever growing list of things to know.

~

On wednesday he sat at one of the library tables, his head peeking over to look at the books in front of him. He would go to one of the shorter tables, but they were harder to find and he wouldn't be here long.

When Purson sat beside him, he knew it was the right choice.

“You're a bit late,” he hummed, standing up on the chair, “do you know what books you need?

Purson nodded, putting down a stack of books on the table.

“Great, now we just gotta get to my dorm,” Tellur organized the books he was reading into a stack, gathering them into his arms and stepping off the chair. Really his only problem was that he couldn't see over it. Wayfinder was doing the heavy lifting when it came to navigation.

He heard laughing to the right of him, and he looked up to see Purson looking away with a hand to his face. He had his own stack, but was faring much better in the sight department.

“One day I'm going to be so much taller than you,” he glared, looking back at the spines of his books, “and when that happens I'm going to throw you out an open window.”

To his unsurprise, this didn't do much to stop the laughter.

“Do you need help?”

“No. I can navigate just fine thank you,” he took a large step forward, taking the lead. There were a few people in the corridor, he wouldn't be able to name or track them, but he could sense them enough to avoid them. “You could give me your books too and I'd be fine,”

He heard the click of a shutter, but when he turned to look, Purson was still walking innocently, no phone in sight.

“Did you just take a photo?”

“No, I don't even have my phone out anyways. And why would I take a picture? It's just you holding books,” was he being gaslit? He doesn't even know the demonic word for that! “Oh look we're here!”

Hm, he'll let it slide for now.

Tellur walked up, pushing the door open with his foot. The lock systems were really convenient, they were mana locks, which opened the door whenever he was touching it and wanted it open. There were also keycards for those with mana deficiency disease, however rare.

“Welcome to my house.” He stated unceremoniously, dumping the books on the table. Honestly, he thinks Babyls dorms might be the best he's ever seen, each was like a small apartment, with a main room, a kitchenette, bathroom, and a bedroom. If he were to make a guess, he'd say all the extra amenities were for students on their evil cycle that were too dangerous to be let out. “Don't get any weird stalker ideas,”

“I won't rummage,” Purson set down his books in a more graceful manner, “not a lot to rummage around,”

“What subjects should we focus on first?”

“Mmmm, I'm having trouble with astrology and netherworld history. Some basics of magic would be good to read up on for the rank exam,” oh yeah, execution cannonball. He's going to do so badly in that one, dodging is not his best skill.

“I'm making some tea, do you want any?” He doesn't really have anything besides hell grey. Oh, he also had manic mint, that's nice. He doesn't remember packing that.

“Okay,” he could hear the sound of a book being opened while he boiled the water, “what are the rocks on the table for? Because they don't look very good as a decoration, it looks like you just found them outside and called it done,”

“I'm going to throw one at you when you get a question wrong,” he set the bags in the cups, both wooden. While he appreciated the teacup Balam-sensei gave him, this was not the correct environment to be holding something that broke easily. “And you're going to do the same when it's my turn,”

“Why?!”

“It's how you study?”

~

“I'm never studying with you again,” Purson declared, eating a cookie grumpily. He seemed to at least be enjoying said chocolate chip, so Tellur took that as a win, “I thought it would be worksheets, and talking about things if we got stuck. And helping each other through praise and criticism,”

“We had fun,” he was sat across from Purson, idly taking a bite of his own cookie, “and I made you cookies,”

“I feel like this wasn't very productive,” he heard a ding from his hellphone, but decided to ignore it for now, “Half the time we forgot about the worksheets and just threw rocks at each other,”

“We had fun,” he repeated, nodding, “though I guess it works better when there's a clear system of who's in charge to minimize retaliation,” he gasped, putting his hands on the table and leaning forward, “we should ask Kalego-sensei to-!”

“No.” Okay, wow, could've at least heard him out, “I think he'd throttle us,”

Actually, “... Good point,” maybe having Kalego-sensei give them studying tips might not be the best idea, they could get extra homework. “What should we do then?”

“Let's maybe stop with the rocks,” Tellur nodded, sitting back down as Purson spoke, “... I have no other ideas,”

Fuck, they needed backup.

“... We could ask Balam-sensei, or Blushenko-sensei,”

“You can't just resort to saying the names of your favorite teachers whenever we need help,”

“Literally why not,”

Purson paused for a moment, staring down at his cookie, “good point. Balam-sensei is scarier, but Blushenko-sensei has less free time. Balam-sensei’s also been a teacher for longer,”

“I think we should ask Balam-sensei,” he got up, gathering the leftover cookies. He did, in fact, see the forlorn glance Purson gave to the morsels of chocolaty goodness, he just didn't care. “He and Kalego-sensei are married so we might get some insight into future lessons,”

“They are? I can see it, but neither of them have rings,”

“I'm decently sure they're keeping it a secret, not sure why though,”

“So we're asking Balam-sensei?”

He nodded, looking down at the five cookies left, “should we make more cookies?”

“Just to be safe,”

~

“Shouldn't we make some of these without chocolate?”

“Why?”

“Kalego-sensei’s bloodline ability is Cerberus right? So isn't he a dog?”

“Ohhhhhhhh, you're right. Let's leave half without,”

“We're so smart,”

~

They gathered up the cookies, and Purson happily let him hold them. Maybe there were a little bit too many, but they also wouldn't spoil, so he's not seeing the downside to having made this many.

The cookies were bundled up in sacks, one with chocolate and the other without due to fears of cross contamination.

“I think we could make shortbread during our next study session,”

“Am I just your baking test subject? I'm not complaining because you're really good at making stuff, but I would like to know if this is something I should expect every time I come over,”

“yes, you are,”

He stopped just shy of the door, his grip on the bags tightening. Okay, he was fine, everything was fine. Why was he nervous?

Tellur knocked on the door, awkwardly trying to stop the bag of cookies in that hand from hitting it too. The door opened slowly, and he smiled as Balam-sensei looked out from the crack intensely. He saw Purson go still in the corner of his eye, which was fair.

“Hi Balam-sensei! We brought cookies! They also serve as bribes, because we need your help,” he held up the sacks, “this one doesn't have chocolate,”

“Thank? You?” The door was opened further, and they were let into the room, “what do you need my help with?”

He immediately went to the kitchenette to put the cookies down on the counter, letting Purson take over the conversation.

“We need help studying, Tellur thought the correct way was to throw rocks at someone when they got it wrong, and I've never had to study before. But we just ended up having a rock fight and baking cookies,”

“Is that where the cut under Izayoi's eye came from?”

“Unfortunately,”

“For some reason people are just drawn to my eyes,” he stated, walking back into the main room, “it happens almost every time I study with someone,”

Balam-sensei sent him a concerned look, “who taught you how to group study?”

He blinked, tilting his head, “it's how my mother always handled worksheets,”

“Ah,”

“So how do we study, Balam-sensei?” Tellur sat on one of the chairs, looking up at him hopefully.

“There are plenty of mock exams, but can I ask why you need to study? You both have very good grades and exams aren't for another four months,”

He looked at Purson, and Purson looked at him. He didn't know what the hell the other was thinking, nor if it was similar to his own train of thought. He honestly didn’t know why they were making eye contact right now.

“I admire the dedication to your studies, but I wouldn't want either of you to go into an evil cycle from the workload,” those were… very good points. He wouldn't expect anything less from a teacher at Babyls, he just hadn't thought of them.

Come to think of it, he's never had an evil cycle before. His childhood was just his schooling and helping out on the farm, not a lot a kid could stress over. Not a lot his mother would let him stress over.

Could he actually be sent into an evil cycle if he continued? What would that even look like for him?

He should ask his mom when he sees her on the weekend, she'd definitely have some insight.

There was a sigh, and he looked up when he felt a hand patting his head, “what I would suggest is free study, don't stress about it too much right now.” So basically, they were back to square one.

“Okay, thank you sensei,” he smiled, standing up once the hand had retreated, “tell me what your husband thinks of the cookies!”

“My what?” He opened the door, letting Purson exit first, “no wait, husband?”

He closed the door, speed walking away, “I think I was wrong,”

“Or he could be acting so the marriage is still secret,” Purson patted him on the back, “you need to think of the possibilities,”

“... Was the studying advice we got from our teacher to, not study?”

“Yeah. I think it was,”

Chapter Text

He walked into class with folded blankets stacked up in his arms, setting them down on his desk and pulling one off to throw around his shoulders. He saw Purson subtly take a lighter one.

A hand slammed itself on his desk, and he didn't even need to look up to know Kalego-sensei was glaring at him. He did anyways, it was rude to not give people attention.

“Child. Is this the reason you were late?” Ooh, he sounded irritated, maybe he was also cold but had too much of a reputation to take one.

Tellur nodded, standing up so he could grab the top blanket before holding it out to him, “cold?”

There was a tick mark on the teacher's forehead, and he tried his hardest to keep a straight face. It was a very difficult challenge, and he did not succeed.

“Extra homework for being late,” Kalego-sensei turned on his heel, his capelet looking quite swooshy and impressive as he walked back to his desk, “I hope this incident is not repeated,”

“Yes sensei,” he hung his head, sitting back down.

He brought heat packs to school the next day.

Sukima

Kalego stepped into the prep room, wanting just a few hours without noisy interruptions, “Shichiro, what are those sacks?”

“Oh, these?” Balam smiled, opening one of the bags, “Two of your students brought them to me. I'm not sure what to do with this many cookies,”

“Any particular reason?”

“They wanted help with studying? I don't know the full story, but apparently there was a rock fight involved,”

“I don't need to know anymore,”

Chapter Text

Tellur looked around his dorm room, circling the main table. He didn't know where his sketchbook was, which was both new and not good. He's always been able to find his stuff, and he's always had his sketchbook on him. There was no possible way for it to drop off the map like it had. Even if it was burned to a crisp he'd be able to find the remnants of it.

This was weird. Maybe he should find a responsible adult. No, he should definitely find a responsible adult.

Right, the closest adult he trusted was… Kalego-sensei. Hm. What was his likelihood of getting lectured over this. Very high.

Okay, and Balam-sensei, judging by the amount of other signatures near him, was in class. Same with Blushenko-sensei. Suzy-sensei was also free, but he didn't trust her as much.

Oh no.

Kalego-sensei was really the only one he trusted with this. Was it worth the potential lecture or extra homework?

He weighed the options in his mind, and thus, was very confused when he felt the familiar ping of his sketchbook in the teachers prep room.

Things like that didn't just happen. Okay, screw it. He needs an adult. Kalego-sensei was near the prep room anyways for some reason. Probably for his husband or something.

He sighed, shrugging on his jacket. He still needed to find talon socks, his feet were cold dammit.

Ugh, well. Here he goes, off to find a responsible adult.

~

“Kalego-sensei!” He called out, knocking on the prep room door. He could sense the hesitation in opening the door, which was new. It made him blink, but the feeling was gone just as quickly as it appeared, “I know you're in there! I need your help!”

The door opened, and he looked up to see Kalego-sensei glaring down at him, “what do you want brat,”

“Can I come in? My sketchbook’s in there.” He didn't wait for a verbal response, simply walking under the arm holding open the door the moment it widened the slightest bit. His book was on the bookshelf, nestled in against two picture books.

Picking it up, he held it to his nose and breathed in. It smelled different. Faint traces of blood and smoke. Ugh.

A hand squeezed his head like an orange, and he felt himself being pulled away from the bookshelf. It didn't hurt, so he didn't care all that much.

“Is that really all you bothered me for?” Kalego-sensei let go of his head, allowing him to turn and face him, “your sketchbook,”

“Hm? Oh no. Do you have like an anti eavesdropping spell or something?” He asked, tilting his head, “I think you do? But I can't remember,”

The teacher pinched the bridge of his nose, “no. I do not. Because a spell like that doesn't exist. You can tell if someone's nearby, why do you want that spell,”

“Because I lost this,” he held up his sketchbook, “it went completely off my map, which should be impossible. I'd be able to find it even if it was halfway across the netherworld,” he held the book to his chest, “so I'm kinda freaking out a little,”

He couldn't decipher Kalego-sensei’s expression, so he tried to do what he did before. Focusing on the energy in Wayfinder. Sadly, it didn't work.

“There are anti tracking spells, however rare.” He felt a little silly now, acting like the world was ending, “it's a little odd that someone who knows how to cast it would go after your notebook specifically. What do you have in there?”

What did he? “Mostly drawings of people, there's some recipes, some foods and corridors. Oh and-” and his notes of the future. Oh shitballs, “fucking fuck shit bastard bitch,,”

He flipped through the pages, quickly getting to his notes and pressing the paper to his nose. The scent was stronger there, the blood. He could even smell small traces of gunpowder. That was probably the main source of the smoke smell. Whoever took his book seemed prone to explosions.

“I'm judging by the slew of nonsense you just blurted out that it's something important,” Kalego-sensei had an unimpressed look on his face, and he'd never been happier that no one here speaks english.

“... Yes,” he showed him the page, looking down and away.

“... I can't read this.”

Huh?

He looked at the book again, tracing over the words with his eyes.

… no one here speaks english! Whew, that was almost a disaster. But someone still went through his book looking for these exactly, which was deeply concerning.

“They're notes for the future, what I remember anyways,” he paused, looking up at Kalego-sensei, did he know? “Blushenko-sensei told you I'm a reincarnate right?”

“Yes, I was made aware of that,” and he was glaring again, what was the reason this time? “But I was unaware of the fact that you had visions, and I believe he is too,”

Did he not? Tell them?

Oh, no he did not. Oops.

“Well! You know now,” and the scowl got worse, this was actually kinda funny. No! No, keep a straight face. Show no amusement at his annoyance, show no amusement. He drew in a deep breath, trying to keep his lips from twitching up. Sad kittens, lost baby ducks, poverty, making a dish no one eats, his mother's disappointed face.

… okay, he's good.

“Is there anyone you know of that'd be able to-” what if someone was listening? They could be using anti detection magic to keep themselves hidden and using that anti tracking spell. He went silent, trying to listen for any breathing or changes in the air.

From what he could tell, it was just him and Kalego-sensei in the room.

“To, what. Speak child.”

“Is anyone able to read language from the human realm? Or translate it with a spell?”

Kalego-sensei went too quiet for his liking, but because he's mature and capable he did not panic even the slightest bit because he's mature and capable and calm.

“The chair demon would be able to translate it, but most translation spells require the caster to have a basic understanding of the language they're trying to translate.” Most? “Now before you start panicking again,” he would never panic over something like this, “the ones that require no understanding also require an immense amount of mana. I've seen the books we have on human languages a few times, and I haven't seen anything like those characters,”

That's right, english is a relatively new language. Though there are definitely many many inspirations from languages much older, so there's probably some familiar letters. He wouldn't be able to know for sure without checking for himself, which was obviously never going to happen.

“I doubt anyone's reading them anytime soon. Which brings me to another point,” oh no, he doesn't like that face, “tell your teachers the shit they need to know.” He got flicked in the forehead, which did hurt a little, “moron,”

Rude, wait, now would probably be a good time to…

“Iruma can't fly,” that was shit teachers needed to know right?

Kalego-sensei raised an eyebrow, “why not?”

“...” Uh, what was the excuse they used in that one episode? Wing roots! “His wings are too small, but he's super embarrassed about it, so don't mention it to anyone else.”

His eyes narrowed, and Tellur just knew that he wasn't successful in his lie.

“Don't ask because I can't tell you!” he said suddenly, straightening his back, “but, he can't fly. Because his wings are too small.”

Kalego looked a little peeved at being interrupted, but seemed to understand his urgency, “very well, now get out. I need to grade papers,”

“Maybe you wouldn't need to grade so much if you didn't assign so much ow! Owwwwwww!” His grumbling was stopped with his head being, once again, squeezed like an orange, or maybe a grapefruit. Quite a lot harder this time though, it actually hurt a bit. “Uncle! Uncle!

His head was squeezed a bit harder, and he felt the teachers amusement despite his scowl, “stop spouting out that language,”

“Yes sir, sorry sir,”

~

He was sent back to his dorm with a scowl, and he spent the remainder of his break day baking and brainstorming ideas.

See, he needed a secure way to tell Kalego-sensei information about the future without any prying eyes or ears.

There was a soundproof room in the Royal One but that would be ineffi-

The Royal One! Iruma's evil cycle! He should write that down. Oh that was going to be such an upgrade when it happened, blankets and pillows galore.

Okay, now he needed to get back to brainstorming.

Maybe a cool cipher? Which would probably be cracked instantly because he's not very good at coming up with those. A code using drawings could be cool, but there would definitely need to be a cheat sheet which could be found and used to decode it.

That was the main problem with his ideas, they could be implemented, but Tellur especially would need a cheat sheet in order to double check himself. And a cheat sheet could be found and stolen.

Ugh, it would be so much easier if Kalego-sensei also knew english. But the fact that no one else in the netherworld spoke it was kinda an integral part of keeping his notes secret. He wanted whoever took his notes to believe that he was a reincarnate with zero predictions, and that his notes were only hidden because it was his diary.

Wait, hmm. Could he teach Kalego-sensei english? That plan had many problems, but a whole hidden language was certainly a lot harder to crack than any system he could come up with.

Now he just needed a), to convince Kalego-sensei, and b), the ability to make lesson plans.

Both of which he doesn't know how to do.

Okay, how did he learn demonic?

Nope, never mind, that does not count. He had to teach himself from scratch.

Right, better example, how did his spanish classes in high school go?

… he doesn't remember.

Eugh.

First he needs to create the perfect lesson plan to hopefully impress Kalego-sensei enough that he goes along with his idea and no it's never going to work he's stupid stupid stupid!

Wow, okay. He needs to breathe. Being mean to himself isn't going to solve his problems. Even if he thinks it's a stupid idea, he needs to just breathe and think it through.

In, Kalego-sensei learning english makes sense strategically, it would make communication of confidential information easier and safer.

Out, he's likely attached to this idea because of the emotional aspect of being able to speak his native language with someone again, and he's latched on to Kalego-sensei as this person because he is the only safe demon Tellur knows that is aware of the existence of humans.

In, he is allowed to have both emotional and logical reasons for doing things, he shouldn't feel guilty about having emotions.

Out, teaching is a very hard job, but it would likely be made much easier by the fact that he only plans on teaching one demon, and that demon is a teacher who would give criticism if the lessons weren't up to par.

In, it will be very difficult to convince Kalego-sensei of this plan.

He let out his breath, leaning back on his hands. This was going to be difficult, both on the sell and on the uptake. There was also the problem of making sure his lessons don't get stolen. He could write most of his notes in english, make sure to only write it out in his dorm and nowhere else. He should probably also burn worksheets and the like after a lesson. His therapy sessions were actually somewhat helpful, huh, who knew.

What was that beeping noise? The timer?

…?

HIS GARLIC KNOTS!!

~

He needed two things for his plan to work, a coherent lesson plan, and bribes.

So the obvious answer to obtaining information for both of those things was to go to Balam-sensei and ask for help.

… was he relying on adults too much?

No, none of his classmates would know how to bribe Kalego-sensei.

“Balam-sensei-sama?”

“Please don't call me that,”

“... Balam-sama-sensei?”

“That wasn't the problem,” Balam sensei sighed, and Tellur had to fight back the urge to smile, “Balam-sensei is fine. What do you need Izayoi?”

“I need to know how to bribe Kalego-sensei,”

“Hm,” Balam-sensei put a hand to his mask, tilting his head in thought, “he doesn't like sweet things, so I'm not sure the approach you tried with me will work for him,”

Oh no. He doesn't know how to make fancy savory food. Kalego-sensei is rich as hell, there's no way pierogi and arancini will be enough to impress him.

… when did this become about impressing him? Well he needed Kalego-sensei to be impressed in order for his harebrained plan to work, so really it made sense.

“He does like bitter things,” ew, “I can give you some of his favorite tea blends if that would help,”

He nodded, already thinking of the possibilities. He could use the blends to make a filling for something, he can fancify sweets to the furthest moon and back. His main problem is currently making the perfect sweet that isn't sweet. Definitely means he's going to have to cut back on the sugar in both the filling and whatever dough he's using.

Steamed buns? No, his recipe for them has yet to be perfected. Some kind of ice cream? Also no, ice cream is inherently sweet.

Maybe a filled croissant? That could work. Time consuming, difficult, but oh so delicious.

“that would help a lot Balam-sensei! Thank you!” Eugh, he was gonna have to taste test it himself. Maybe he should invite Purson and Jazz over to help perfect the dough to cream ratio. He'll have to make sweet versions to check, obviously. Hopefully he'll be able to reach a good balance between not overly bitter and barely sweet. Then once he finds that he'll get rid of just a tiny bit more sugar to make it (hopefully) Kalego-sensei approved.

He was handed three jars, “bring them back once you have enough to work with,” one was a green powder, one had a mix of many different leaves and flowers of which he couldn't name, and the last seemed similar to the one before, but with the addition of chopped mushrooms. Wow, weird. He's really hoping none of these will try to fight him when he opens it. “This one is his favorite,” Balam-sensei’s hand tapped the lid of the green powder.

It reminded him of matcha, but it was a much darker color. More mossy than lime.

“I will! Thank you sensei!”

~

Tellur was in the middle of setting out ingredients when the doorbell rang. Weird, Purson and Jazz were meant to arrive two hours later so they could taste the finished product without having to watch him scramble. He had the whole thing planned out, taste testing, then either talking about classes or playing a game. After they left he would jot down some notes and try again the next day.

It wasn't horrible that someone arrived two hours early, but it was unexpected. It wouldn't even be a cool baking bonding experience because croissants aren't fun to work with other people on. And his friends are beginner bakers who haven't even heard of croissants, much less be trusted in the shaping of them.

It would probably be fine, there was a lot of time to talk while the dough was resting.

He put down the sugar, walking forward and opening the door.

“You're here early-” that, was neither Jazz nor Purson. That was Iruma. “How do you know my dorm number,” he's had like, a single conversation with Iruma. Not even enough to consider them allies.

“Blushenko-sensei told me, after I asked him,” okay, okay. Calm down. He might just need help with… something. He doesn't know. “But I wanted to talk to you,”

Tellur doesn't know how to handle this situation, there was a serious face on the resident cinnamon roll, and he had nowhere close to the amount of knowledge on Iruma necessary for handling this situation.

“... Okay?” He said hesitantly, looking up at the human. “What did you want to talk about?”

Then, Iruma smiled, and he felt his stress levels drop. Okay, he's fine, he can do this.

“Thank you for looking out for me,” eh? “Blushenko-sensei excused me from flying lessons and didn't even ask to see my wings,”

… how was that his doing? Sometimes teachers just figured stuff out.

“I don't know how you know, but it's such a relief to have a friend who knows I'm h-”

Tellur put a hand over Iruma's mouth, taking great care to be gentle. Humans were more fragile than demons, “shut up, we're not friends. This is our second conversation. And what you were about to say is hungry right? Because I know you're very hungry so I'll make a snack for you right now if you shut up before someone hears you,”

Iruma blinked, and once he was sure he wouldn't say anything else stupid he pulled his hand away. The door was still open for goodness sake.

“But you saved my life? Doesn't that make us friends? Unless you don't want to be of course!” Tellur sighed, motioning for the human to come inside while he closed the door.

“I don't know how you haven't gotten eaten yet, take this,” he shoved a box of leftover cookies in his arms, “don't just blurt nonsense out. I have to start making dough but while it's resting we're going over your cover story.”

He did not stomp his way to the kitchen, even if he wanted to, because he was mature and responsible and did not get irritated over something like this.

“Okay!” He looked over his shoulder, seeing half the box gone already, “these are really good, did you make them?”

He nodded, ducking his head as he measured out the ingredients, “yes, I like cooking in my spare time,”

“...” Iruma went quiet, and he looked over to see the boy looking at him with a mixed expression between lost and determined, “can I help with anything?”

“No.” He answered quickly, vaguely remembering the scene of Iruma and Ameri standing proudly next to an abomination of baking, but then paused, “... You can help me measure out ingredients, carefully,”

Iruma smiled, and it was so much better than the expression he had before. Ugh, he can't draw while baking. What a cruel world he lives in.

~

The dough was made, then put to set. Which gave Tellur ample time to go over Iruma's cover story until they had to work with it again.

“The reason why you can't fly is because you have very small wings, but when someone asks why you don't fly you say,”

“Because I like to exercise my legs,”

“Good, now if your perfume starts wearing off and you can't reapply it?”

“I accidentally spilt one of your experiments on myself when helping you out,”

Tellur nodded, touching the tips of his fingers together, “yes,”

“Do humans actually smell that sweet?”

“For some reason,” he shrugged, the scent was still stuck in his nose from when he'd smelled Iruma's wrist to make a plan, he had to stop himself from drooling. “And what do you always do when going into a situation you feel unsure about?”

“Have Clara and Azz-kun with me, and or tell an adult I trust,”

“Which are?”

“Grandpa and Opera-san!”

“Good,”

~

At six, the doorbell rang, signaling the arrival of his invited guests.

Iruma looked up from his work of filling the piping bags, and Tellur realized that he had forgotten to tell all parties about his arrival.

“I'm getting it, keep doing what you're doing.” He put down the knife, setting it next to the freshly hollowed out croissant, “it's just Purson and Jazz, they're meant to be here,”

He opened the door, smiling at the two demons standing there.

“Heyo,” Jazz walked in, looking around, “so these are the dorms huh?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, turning to look at Purson. Who was simply standing and staring at Iruma. “Oh, yeah. Some random guy came in through the window and started making a ruckus. He's been here for about ten hours now,”

Iruma spluttered, waving his hands and consequently the spoonful of cream as well, “wuh, all of that was untrue!”

“I don't know what you're talking about, see? He's crazy,” Tellur walked back to the pile of croissants, picking up his knife, “he's screaming and waving around a weapon, hand me that bag please,” he held out his hand for the first filled piping bag, quickly cutting off the tip and starting on filling the croissants.

Iruma made a noise between a laugh and a groan, hiding his face in his hands.

“Purson? Could you get out the playing cards?”

“Only because I'm really curious as to what that is,”

Jazz leaned against the doorway, watching them work. It was nice having the presence behind him, so once all three flavors of croissant had been filled, he handed a small plate of them to the red eyed demon.

“Wow, first ones huh. What are they?”

“They will be bribes, once I get the recipe perfected,” he started plating the other croissants, making sure to keep the order so he knew which flavor was which, “but they're called filled croissants,”

“Cruhsahnts?”

“Tellur I don't think you know what a bribe is,” Purson stole the croissant out of his hand, taking a bite, “these are really good. Not as sweet as your usual stuff. Anyways, you seem to use the word ‘bribe’ whenever you make someone something. You don't need to disguise giving gifts as bribery, it's getting a little sad,”

He flushed, looking away. “They really are bribes this time,”

“I just don't believe you,” Purson grabbed a croissant with a different filling, dutifully fulfilling his role as taste tester, “this one's better, the flavor works more with the flaky bread,”

He peered over, looking at the filling. Ah, dark green. That's the one he was hoping would be the best.

“Any notes on ratio?”

“... Maybe a bit less filling,”

“Okay, now imagine you're really rich. How is the quality of the bread?”

Purson paused his chewing, “you're making these for Kalego-sensei aren't you,”

He could hear Jazz and Iruma talking in the background, and that made him even more reluctant to admit it.

“... No,”

“For someone who lies all the time you sure are bad at it,”

“You still haven't given me your answer.”

“The bread could be lighter to fit with the delicate taste of the cream, make it like biting into a cloud.”

Taking out his sketchbook, he noted down the words underneath the recipe. Erasing and rewriting steps til he thought it could give him the desired texture. Now would also be a good time to sketch the product.

A laugh had half of his attention focusing on Iruma and Jazz, listening to their conversation as he drew.

“Is this normal for them?”

“Yeah, they don't seem too lively at first do they?”

“Not really,”

His attention was brought back to Purson, and he set down his sketchbook as the other demon spoke, “I'm able to take most of these right?”

“Work it out amongst yourselves,” he boxed up one of each kind, putting it in the fridge, “it's not my problem,”

~

At the end of the day, as Iruma and Purson were stepping out the door, he pulled Jazz to the side.

“Were you able to get your dorm request approved?”

Jazz smiled, “yeah, but it'll take a couple weeks to set up,”

“Nice, any information on where yet?”

He shook his head, “I'm not gonna worry about it right now,”

Tellur nodded, running his tongue over his teeth as he tried to think of a response, “... See you tomorrow,”

“See ya,”

~

Balam-sensei was teaching a class, but he knew where he would eventually be. All Tellur needed to do was leave a note with the croissants and badda bing badda boom, croissants delivered. He stepped happily, twirling on the pad of his claws.

“Pffft, I know! The little freak's always running after the teachers like a lost devi duckling,”

He stilled in the hallway, quieting his breaths. Who were they talking about? If it's someone he knows he's going to beat their asses.

“You'd think one gargoyle in the school would be bad enough, I give it two weeks before he shows his true colors,”

Ah, they were speaking about him, lovely.

“No, not even that! Did you hear on the first day? They say he shattered two guys’ collarbones,”

“Really? Scary. How long do you think it'll be before his ‘allies’ realize? I mean, who'd hang out with a time bomb like that for any longer then they'd have to?”

He took in a deep breath, straightening his posture and setting his shoulders. He really didn't want to smush the box he was holding, that'd ruin the texture of the bread.

Then he just continued walking, taking no action to hide his presence. He was just as allowed to be here as they were, and if they had a problem they could simply tell him. There was a large amount of satisfaction seeing them go quiet as he passed, even if it mixed with a pool of dread.

It didn't matter. He didn't care. They didn't know anything, he wasn't a time bomb. He wasn't a bomb at all. They were just talking to talk, bonding over the same shallow thoughts. Really, he should be glad he stumbled into that conversation, now he knows who he should watch out for.

He's fine. There are bigger things to worry about than stupid hallway gossip.

~

When he went to class the next morning, it felt like he couldn't stop thinking about it. Staring off into space and rolling the words over in his head.

A time bomb, he wasn't a time bomb.

“Izayoi, are you paying attention?” he looked away from the window, forcing his eyes to meet Dali-sensei's gaze.

He nodded, glancing at the board to get an idea of what they were talking about. Right, that was just an unmarked timeline, thanks Dali-sensei.

“Then can you explain the political advantage that Babyls obtained from the missing demon king Derkila attending?”

No, no he could not. But like hell was he gonna say that, “it… gave our school a greater sense of prestige among competing academies, and,” was funding ever an issue? He couldn't remember, “that's all I got,”

“Mostly right,” Dali-sensei shrugged, “good job!”

He breathed a sigh of relief, hanging his head and staring at the table. His dorm is looking like a really appealing place to be right now.

~

He did it. He perfected the croissant recipe.

At least that's what Purson told him, he hasn't tried them for himself. But in his friends words,

“it tastes like it costs more than the average demon can afford,”

So it was most likely a success! And Kalego-sensei was in his office, which made things a lot easier. His plan was to give him the croissants, then ease him into the conversation.

How was he gonna do that? Still no clue. It'll come to him when the time is right.

He took in a deep breath, knocking on the door. He tried to focus on Wayfinder, tried to access that same map of emotions that he saw before.

The door opened before he could.

“Izayoi. I sincerely hope this won't become a recurring theme,”

He smiled, holding up the box of croissants. “This is for you, Kalego-sensei-sama,”

“Don't call me that. Ever.” He did take the box though, so he was winning. “What are these?”

“Croissants,” he supplied, then elaborated when the scowl on his teacher's face worsened, “flaky bread in a weirdo caterpillar shape. These ones are filled with three different cream flavors,”

“What do you want then,” wow, saw right through him.

“You're not gonna try it first?”

“I don't like sweets.”

“I know, Balam-sensei told me. They aren't sweet,” he's fine, he's fine. Even if Kalego-sensei doesn't eat it he'll still be fine, because he's mature and responsible and doesn't get sad over silly things like this.

Kalego-sensei picked one up suspiciously, sniffing it cautiously before taking a bite. It was the green one, so hopefully he would like it. And he won't get sad if he doesn't, because he's a fully competent demon who doesn't care what others think of his food and-

He watched Kalego-sensei’s eyes widen the slightest bit, and internally he jumped for joy. Externally he realized he was probably smiling too much, so schooled his face again.

“It's, not bad. Where did you get these?” He likes it, HE LIKES IT! Stay calm, he needs to stay calm. He needs to breathe and answer the question.

“I made them!” Okay maybe he was a little too excited, but he couldn't help it. He worked so hard on those croissants, to see that his effort paid off was so insanely amazing, “I can make you more if you want! Or if you have any criticism I'd be happy to take it,”

He looks interested, HE LOOKS INTERESTED! No, okay. He needs to calm down and remember his original purpose. An efficient and secretive method of communicating the future.

“May I see the recipe?”

Tellur nodded, quickly pulling out his sketchbook and handing it over on the correct page. Please be impressed, please be impressed!

“Hm,” Kalego-sensei smiled, just a little bit. But Tellur felt so accomplished in that moment, “this is-”

Everything had gone wrong, he could see the gleam in Atori-sensei's eyes and he knew he wasn't making it out unscathed. If he had just remembered, if he had just been useful. Maybe this would've been avoided, maybe he wouldn't be alone with a teacher that wanted his guts spilled across the ground.

Very, very literally. As he had to keep dodging strikes aimed for his torso. Not death shots, he was wanted alive for some reason.

His kouhai were still hidden, which he could be grateful for. He'd be even more grateful if they had any of the teachers’ numbers, but apparently he was an oddball in that respect. They had to know someone's number. One of their other classmates participating.

He let out a sigh of relief as Blushenko-sensei started beelining to their location, and that momentary relief was his doom.

Something went through his abdomen, lodging itself in the ground in front of him. He didn't feel it yet, but he could see his blood running down the metal.

That was when he screamed.

“Oh what the fuck, what the fuckity fuck,” he fell to the ground, clutching his stomach, “no, nope. Just no. I'm retiring. This is it,”

“Child. Explain,” he looked up at Kalego-sensei, who was still holding the box of not sweet sweets. He couldn't decipher his expression.

“... I don't know,” he took a deep breath, ignoring how it shook. “I was stabbed. What the fuck?”

A moment of realization seemed to cross over Kalego-sensei’s face, and he locked on to it.

“You said you already knew about your visions,” oh is that what that is? He didn't realize getting stabbed counted as a vision.

“I thought the visions thing was something they made up to excuse their memories!” He forced his hands to still, grabbing onto the fabric of his jacket, “I need to write this down, can I have my sketchbook back?”

It was handed back to him, “here, sit down in a proper chair and explain,”

He stood up, already writing in the margins of one of his drawings. He'd transfer it to his note page later. Adrenaline was still pumping through his veins, but he forced himself to sit down and not pace around.

“There was the heart-” he paused, blinking before writing that down. Was it really safe to talk? If someone was eavesdropping would he be able to know?

Tellur looked up, staring at Kalego-sensei. He would know, Kalego-sensei was the strongest demon he trusted. If there were any eavesdroppers, he'd be able to root them out.

“There was a school event, a new one that was made,” but he still shouldn't tell him too much, best not to lose his advantage, “for our second year. There was a, there were two new teachers.” He ran his fingers over where the stab wound would be, “at least one of them was an intruder. He was after,” what was he after? Iruma? Derkila? Fuck, Derkila. Something something mana, ugh, “Iruma I think? And me, for some reason. Then,” what was his name, “one of the new teachers stabbed me,”

“I see. Thank you for telling me,” He nodded, looking down at his sketchbook. “Is there anything else I should know while we’re both here?”

Was there? There was Walter Park, but if he told him about it now it might disrupt the timing. He didn’t know the specific day, he shouldn’t risk it. What else was there? He knows the syllabus, execution cannonball, battler party, harvest festival and the music festival. He couldn’t think of anything relevant.

“Then get out, I’m busy,”

“I wonder why- oww! Stop! Why are you like this OWW! I CONCEDE, I CONCEDE!!”

~

Well that was mostly a success. He should do some research into reincarnates, see what he should expect. Blushenko-sensei said they were rare, but he’s not sure what ‘rare’ indicates. Should he expect to run into anyone else like him? It wasn’t even mentioned in the manga from what he remembered.

Picking up some etiquette books also couldn’t hurt, it was one of his worse subjects.

~

The day of execution cannonball took him off guard, and he realized he had done exactly no practicing. He was getting out first, that’s what's gonna happen. Someone’s gonna hit him in the head and he’s going to have to deal with a concussion for the rest of the day.

Why was it so cold underground? Wasn’t it supposed to be warmer or whatever? He remembers something about that.

“Now then,” He looked up, watching Kalego-sensei explain the rules. Which was very appreciated, Tellur completely forgot everything. “I’ll just confirm that you all know the rules. All of you will stand on the infield, one person on the outfield. Those who are struck with the ball must go to the outfield. Attacks from the outfield are allowed. You can use magic on the ball, but you are not allowed to use magic against opponents.”

“I will hand out armbands, A team is yellow, B team is red. Once you put them on, split up the court,”

Jazz bumped into him lightly, so he followed behind him in line. “Are you nervous?”

Tellur shook his head, “not a chance,” he knew he wasn't going to win, he didn't really want to either. “I'm going to beat you though,”

“Oh, yeah we're on different teams,” Jazz slipped on his yellow armband, “may the best demon win,”

He grinned, nodding, “may the best demon win,” then they split.

Purson was on his team, along with Gaap, Allocer, Lied, Camui, and Keroli.

“Hey! Why are the teams divided up like this! Having me and Iruma-sama on separate teams when we're friends is inconceivable!” and he also had Asmodeus on his team apparently.

“you were split to even out the power balance,” Kalego-sensei shut down the complaints, “your objection is overruled, line up.”

He followed the group, standing next to Purson. He was going to absolutely destroy Jazz, or go down trying.

“Cannon ball execution, commence!”

His team huddled together, planning out their moves.

“Whatever you do, don’t attack Iruma-kun,” Ah, Lied grabbed the ball. That was good.

Gaap nodded, “He’s a dodging expert,”

Should he just grab the ball? He can see Jazz creeping closer to their side. He’s not completely sure how he’ll get it from that distance, but he’s not one to underestimate his allies.

“Well, who’s taking first shot?” he grabbed the ball from Lied, holding it to his chest before Jazz could grab it, and from the grin he was given he figured that was the correct go. “Hey!”

“I just saved it,” He looked up for a moment at Lied, “Jazz was gonna steal it,” he looked back down, making sure it was still there. It was, and he tightened his grip before handing it to Gaap. “here,”

“Thanks!” Gaap threw it, sending a windblade after it and blasting it forwards at Agares. Ah, he was also trying to murder his allies. A kindred spirit. It hit, and Agares floated off the court with a grumble.

Sabnock picked it up, grinning widely. Okay, he was gonna hide now.

The ball flew towards him, right, hiding wasn’t an option then. He widened his stance, digging his talons into the ground. It was heading towards his torso, so it would be an easy catch. Tellur grabbed it, stopping the momentum.

People started cheering around him, and he ducked his head with an embarrassed flush. No, he needs to focus. Jazz was right there, if he could pull off a shoulder hit he’d get him out with low risk of the ball being caught. But any shots on Jazz were risky, he should go for a leg shot, longer distance and more awkward for his hands.

He took a step back, aiming for Elizabetta. If he could faint it-

Camui got in his way, grabbing the ball from him, “I will protect you m’lady!”

He’s going to kill his bird brethren. The feeling only intensified seeing him hand it to Elizabetta.

There was a loud laugh from Jazz, and he turned his glare on him.

“Don’t look at me! That was your own teammate,” Jazz had a grin on his face that made Tellur want to punch him, or have him eat something gross and watch the smug grin dissolve.

“I will be your reckoning,” he pointed at him, “this I promi-” something hit him in the shoulder, and he looked to see the ball bouncing away, and getting lost in a sea of different balls.

“OUT!”

Tellur started laughing, retreating to outfield to watch the chaos unfold. It didn’t matter if he was out, he will get Jazz. At least he didn’t have to deal with Clara’s diversion.

He scanned the field, activating Wayfinder. It was on team A’s side, but it was still close enough for one of his teammates to get it. Lied was closest, if he could signal him without alerting the other team. Weird, the student council was close too. Not his problem.

Fuck it.

“Lied-kun!” he waved his arms, “to your right!”

It had the desired effect, and the undesired effect. Lied grabbed it, but now team A had their attention on him. Or maybe this was fine, it was really entertaining watching him panic.

He threw it, hitting Clara. Iruma caught it after it bounced off the ground, so still out.

Sabnock grabbed the ball from him, hurling it at Asmodeus, who redirected it back towards him. Knocking him out of the game.

It bounced pretty high, maybe he could bounce it towards him? Would gran work on something like this? It wasn’t anywhere near him, he’s never used the spell on something far away before. It was falling, he had less time the more he contemplated.

“Gran!” a barrier appeared below the ball, bouncing it in his direction. He caught it with a grin, taking no time in launching it at Jazz. He moved out of the way, but it wasn’t enough. The ball grazed his leg. “Yeah! What’d I say!”

Jazz shot him a grin, moving to his section of outfield. “That hurt y'know!”

“You can walk, you're fine!”

The game continued, people getting out left and right until it was just Asmodeus and Iruma left. Tellur brought out his sketchbook, excitedly waiting for the final battle.

The cheers only made him more excited, he had a vague idea of what was to come, and he knew that he wanted to draw it.

“Using full power and full power only,” a swath of fire started up behind Asmodeus, he could feel the heat from his place on the sidelines, “I will honor my etiquette as the demon Asmodeus Alice, and come at you seriously!”

Oh, that looked cool. Definitely drawing that. He'll have to work on just the sketches so he doesn't miss anything.

“I'll definitely catch it!”

Jazz sat beside him, looking over his shoulder at the sketches, “isn't this a rematch of the entrance ceremony?”

He paused, but quickly resumed drawing, “it is, isn't it? Iruma’s gotten a lot stronger,”

“How do you know?”

He shrugged, keeping his eyes on the scene in front of him. “Just a feeling,”

Iruma ran forward, solidifying his stance and bracing to catch it. The ball left Asmodeus’s hands with a burst of flame, and Iruma was pushed back with the force. Then he started turning, the fire following his path around in a spiral.

That, he definitely needed to draw that.

Iruma sent the ball back, grazing Asmodeus’s shoulder.

“The winner is team A!” Kalego-sensei shouted out, which led to a roar of cheers.

He stood up, and from the corner of his eye he could see Jazz do the same. They headed to opposite sides of the court, he to Asmodeus and Jazz to Iruma.

“That was so cool Asmodeus-kun!” He joined the crowd of praise. He could still smell the smoke rising off of him, but if he concentrated he'd be fine.

“That fireball was so cool!”

“Can I call you Azz Azz?”

“No!”

“Iruma!” Kalego-sensei spoke, definitely calling more than just Iruma over, “if Asmodeus had let you win, I wasn't going to let you raise your rank, ever. But you both truly gave it your all,” he tossed the golden badge over, and Iruma caught it with wonder, “therefore, Iruma, I approve your promotion to Bet,”

“Boo, at least give him Gimel,” he was inclined to agree with Lied, but he wasn't going to argue with Kalego-sensei's judgement just yet.

“Indeed, Bet for that performance is an insult!”

“You miser! Boo boo!”

“Silence! You think your ranks will go up that easily? There will be more exams,” the harvest festival will definitely be fun, “if you lot want to be promoted as well, work harder. That is all,”

He joined in with the chorus of ‘okay's.

“Wait! Isn't my rank going up?”

“It is not!”

There was a shocked, affronted noise from Sabnock, and he committed the face he made to memory.

“Alright, let's go home,” Tellur followed Jazz out, glancing around for Purson.

He was invisible, must not want to talk, “do we not have normal classes after this?”

“No I don't think so,”

Ah, he had an extra day to do his homework. Nice, maybe he should try making puff pastry crust then. Or crepes, he hasn't made those in a while.

Chapter Text

He paused his quiet conversation with Purson as a green haired demon walked in. Presumably an adult, was he one of Clara’s relatives? He didn’t have the horns, but the demeanor and hair fit. And height.

“Nice to meet you everyone! I am your new teacher on the subject of familiars!” ah, okay. Familiar training was today.

The teacher went to the board, writing his name. “Balse Robin,”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all!” Wow, he was very energetic. Tellur looked back down at his sketchbook, vaguely listening to his introduction. He didn’t care all that much.

He jotted down the basics of Robin-sensei’s face, his eyes were very analytical, despite how happy he seemed. Eh, the two didn’t have to be exclusive.

“Okay! Let's all get up! Our first lesson is, interacting with your familiars!”

He walked behind Jazz, following the group out. He’d been to the courtyard a few times, but most of his free time was spent in his dorm or the library. Maybe he should join the library battler. There’s still time to decide, diabotany looks promising too. Though if he joins the library battler he’ll get access to premium books, maybe he’ll even come across ones from the human realm!

No, he shouldn’t get too excited about something that rare. There is zero guarantee.

“Listen closely, your familiar is like your partner, your one and only partner,” Robin-sensei took out a clipboard, smiling widely, “Today you’re going to get some special bonding time with them! First up, Asmodeus Alice!”

Tellur watched idly as people summoned their familiars and showed off, sketching them out with a lazy eye. Today just didn’t feel like a school day, it was too nice of a temperature.

He summoned his familiar as his name was called, nicking his thumb on the tip of his fang. The muddy golem rose from the ground in front of him, and he wasted no time in running his fingers through the cool, almost liquid dirt.

“An earth golem! Very reliable,” is that what they were called? That made sense.

He pulled his hands away, smiling softly at how they stayed clean. They even seemed cleaner than before, did it get bigger with certain specks of dirt? Or did it just have a carnivorous element to it and trap prey in its body? Did it disinfect anything? Or was it simply a cosmetic difference? He could probably run a swab bacteria test to check, it wouldn’t take too many resources. He knows he has a starch thickener in his kitchen somewhere, he hasn’t used it much because of the taste, but bacteria will form on any moist and soft surface.

He glanced over at Iruma’s familiar- their teacher. He was so fluffy, looked just like a big ball of floof and anger. That he desperately wanted to pet. But he would restrain himself, to drawings. There was no way he was forgetting this moment. Maybe he could make an overly dramatic painting and discreetly hang it on the classroom wall.

Tellur crept closer, he just wanted, he just wanted to bop him once. That was all he needed, just so he could commit the texture to memory. There was no way he could sneak up on him, but if he was fast enough he might be able to manage it.

Flufflego paused his conversation with Iruma, giving him the nastiest side eye he's ever seen a bird give, “Izayoi. Don’t even think about it,”

Well he also needed to draw that, but after he was done whining. “Please Kalego-sensei? Just a pat?”

“No.”

Should he push further? How much would he be able to get away with without extra homework?

“Just like this,” he patted the head of his familiar, “see? Short and simple!”

“Silence, my answer is no,”

He hung his head, walking back to his spot with his earth golem. Well, that didn’t work out. Next time then, maybe he should make more bribes.

~

The day was here, the rookie hunt. And he still couldn’t decide which battlers to approach. Diabotany, Library, New Magic.

MMmmmmmmmmmMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM.

He doesn’t know! They all seem like promising options!

Someone passed by him in the corridor, which was weird. Not that they passed him, but that he couldn’t sense them come by. He looked up, watching the back of their head. Uneven horns, blue hair, third year uniform. Who was that? Why did he look-

Kiriwo.

How could he forget something like that?

He was still in the hallway, he needed to pretend like nothing was wrong. Tellur kept walking, checking his pockets to make sure he still had his sketchbook. Okay, it was still there. Where was Kalego-sensei? This definitely qualified as ‘shit teachers needed to know’.

He flipped to his notepage, finding a free spot to write. At the battler party, he was going to try and blow them up. At the eve of the party? Yeah, Iruma’s going to make fireworks.

The hallway flooded with upperclassmen, and he launched himself into the air to avoid the worst of them. Latching onto the higher wall with his claws. It seems he’s evaded them. He’ll definitely need to wait until the rush has calmed down before he can explore inviting battlers.

“There's one up there!” uh oh.

~

By the time he managed to get away, Kalego-sensei had moved from his office to the faculty lounge. A place that he had a lot more qualms talking in than the much more secure office. Maybe he could keep it vague, a message he’ll realize when it happens. He doesn’t know the details anyways, he really only remembers the explosion.

He looked around the hallway, then changed his course, making his way to the faculty lounge. From what he could tell Suzy-sensei, Marbas-sensei, Robin-sensei, and Dali-sensei were all there, which was a lot more people than he’d like. But he’d deal.

The door came into view, and he steadied himself before knocking.

Robin-sensei opened the door with a wide smile, “Izayoi! What do you need?”

He put on his most polite smile, clasping his hands behind his back, “may I please speak to Kalego-sensei?”

“So polite! Come in! I think he’s grading papers over there!” so high energy, he should really ask Clara if they’re related.

“Thank you Robin-sensei,” he bowed his head, walking in. Kalego-sensei was in the back corner, likely to avoid conversation. Sadly for him, Tellur needed to tell someone about this.

“Kalego-sensei,” he stopped in front of the teacher’s desk, “whatever happens, when it happens. It’s Kiriwo-senpai’s fault,”

He raised an eyebrow, “understood, anything else I need to know?”

“... Last name Amy, uneven horns and blue hair.”

“Get going Izayoi,” he nodded, stepping away. The library battler does sound like fun, he should go check that out.

~

Pushing open the doors of the library, he beelined to the front desk. Sliding down the railings of the stairs which was way more fun than it had any right to be.

“Is this battler still looking for first years?”

The third year behind the table looked up excitedly, “yes! We are!” She came around, grabbing his arm and pulling hun towards the back, “I'll drop you in front of our captain, she'll be so pleased to see someone new!”

“Uh,” he didn't really fight the dragging, but he was also, pretty concerned. “Okay, this won't be an interview right?”

“No no,” she shook her head, “our battler is open to everyone, the questions are only for where we'll put you,”

He, he hasn't agreed to anything yet!

“Wait-” he was pushed into one of the back rooms, the door shutting behind him.

The chair in the front spun around to reveal a demon with long brown hair and two antler-like horns. Her eyes were a vibrant brown, and he could see a ring of gold around the pupil. For some odd reason, she reminded him of himself. He didn't know why, they couldn't look more different.

Her reveal was very supervillain-esque, which he could appreciate. The chair looked comfy too, maybe he should ask where she got it.

“A new member!” Yep, he still had yet to agree to anything, “come! Have a seat,”

He looked around the room, surprisingly bookshelf free. It seemed like an office specifically for this kind of thing, which was on brand for a book battler. Tellur sat down in the other chair, which was cushioned and very comfy.

“I'm so glad you're joining us! First thing I would like to know is your class schedule and what your free day is,”

“I haven't agreed-”

“And of course I need to know your favorite tea blend,”

She was completely steamrolling over him! He sighed in defeat, it seems like he's trapped for now.

“My free day is wednesday, my classes end at three except for on thursday where they end at four, and I don't like tea very much,”

She nodded, noting it down like it was important. “Okay! Meet me back here tomorrow and I'll introduce you to the rest of the battler!”

He got up from the chair, feeling dazed. Is this how people got into cults?

~

Slumping tiredly, he opened the door and was about to throw his bag inside when the sight at his table stopped him.

The chairdemon and his security devil were sitting at his main table, enjoying a cup of tea.

He maintained his grip on his bag, making eye contact with Lord Sullivan and backing up, closing the door again before booking it in the other direction.

He didn't get far, becoming weightless and being dragged through the air despite his best efforts. It felt a little like a game, and Tellur certainly didn't feel like a player as he was forced down into one of the seats.

Or maybe it was more of an interrogation. He didn't know what they thought he did, but from the looks on their faces it was something that deserved serious punishment.

“I think you know why we're here,” the chairdemon spoke, and he curled his hands into fists so they wouldn't shake.

A buzzing filled his head as he panicked, looking over everything he'd done so far, “I'm sorry for planning to put up a painting of Kalego-sensei as Iruma's familiar in the classroom! Please don't murder me,” he bowed his head, but whatever force kept him in his chair prevented him from getting on the ground to do a full bow.

“What? No. I'm talking about my precious Iruma-kun!” he breathed a sigh of relief as the chairdemon spoke, glancing up, “but you should totally hang up that painting,”

Okay, he wasn’t gonna get wiped off the face of the netherworld, good to know.

“I'm here for a shovel talk as they say,” the mood went spooky again, but he really desperately wanted to clear up this misunderstanding before it caused his dismemberment.

“Me and Iruma aren't courting!”

Lord Sullivan and Opera-sama blinked, and Sullivan leaned forward, “I didn't think you were,”

Huh? “But a shovel talk is usually for ones family to threaten their wards spouse never to break their wards heart,” his shoulders relaxed slightly, “so you aren't here for that, okay,”

“No, we're here for a different reason,” he felt a little silly, with how the vibe continued to change from confusion to scary and back as the conversation unfolded, “you understand what will happen if Iruma-kun’s secret were to get out don't you?”

He nodded, “I wouldn't do that to him,”

“Good.” Then the principal smiled, clasping his hands together, “now how good was my little Iruma at baking? I'm sure he was so adorable measuring out ingredients!”

He can not deal with these mood swings, “I have a few drawings of him baking, no photos though,”

“Oooh! I'd like to see those!”

Hurray for not being murdered.

~

His dorm still smelled like the principal’s cologne, and he could feel the traces of powerful mana that he'd left as a warning. Or maybe just on accident, he's heard that some powerful demons tend to subconsciously leave their mark on rooms when they enter.

Although, considering the anti tracking spells they both had, it seemed more like a threat.

Tellur opened all the windows, circling mana around the room. It didn't get rid of all of it, seems like he'll just have to wait it out.

Maybe he should spend some time outside, he hasn't done that in a while. There should be a pond somewhere close, it'd be nice to practice his new technique, and a good break from everything going on.

As well as getting his mind off the foreign mana in his space.

He made his way to the pond, or, well, he flew above everything until he found a pond. It was outside of school property, but not by much.

There were a few other demons around when he touched down, and he could feel the Iruma army further back in the forest. But no one was watching him, something he was immensely glad for.

Tellur stepped to the edge of the water, placing his foot just above the surface. It will hold him, he will stand. It will hold him, he will stand.

He put his foot down, willing his mana to cover it and control the water. It held, and he tentatively put his other foot on, spreading out his claws.

The water had barely any friction, and the moment he had both feet on he was drifting, struggling to keep his balance. It was a little like ice skating, which shouldn't have surprised him so much. But if it kept the same fundamentals, then maybe?

He slid his left foot back at an angle, and was pleased when it pushed him along. It really was just like ice skating. He moved slowly, getting a feel for acceleration and deceleration, seeping his mana further into the water when he wanted to slow down and bringing it back when he wanted to go fast. Which he could, he could go very fast. It seemed the hard part was slowing down. But he wasn't a stranger to speed.

He laughed loudly, racing across the pond. Leaning down and dipping his fingers in the water to make mist spray across the rippling surface. He could see fish darting away from his path, and he watched the plants sway in the wake of his mana.

It wasn't even difficult to maintain, definitely easier than just moving water around, which he could do in his sleep. His claws were exceptionally useful in stopping suddenly, seeing as he could dig them into the water's surface while the rest of his feet stayed above.

Which meant that when there was suddenly another demon on his back he was able to stop before he lost his balance and they both fell.

“Wha- get off!” Is this how people felt when he stepped on their shoulders? No, at least he did that on solid ground.

“Target acquired!” Green hair filled his vision as Clara hugged him tighter, “go go!”

He pushed her off with his wings, sinking his mana into the water under her before shooting her back to the shoreline. He followed behind a little more slowly, cautious about any more surprise piggyback rides.

“Again! Again!” Clara jumped from the shore to the water, and he quickly made it solid underneath her so she didn't fall through.

“Iruma.” Tellur pointed at Clara, who was currently sliding around on the thickened skin of the water, “get your ally before she plummets into cold water.”

“Don't speak to Iruma-sama that way!” He kept his focus on Iruma, shooting Clara back towards her group with a slide of his talons.

“Azz-kun, it's okay,” Iruma smiled, and was he being rude? He didn't feel like he was being rude. “how do you do that? It's so pretty!”

He flushed, ducking his head and tapping his foot on the water to make ripples, “I'm sort of thickening the water skin beneath my feet, which allows me to walk across it,” he idly kept the barrier underneath Clara as she chased a fish.

“Woah! So cool!” He fidgeted with his claws, looking up to see Iruma's expression, “could I try?”

It would be a little more rough on his mana to support three people, probably four if the jealous and interested look on Asmodeus’s face said anything, at the same time, but how could he say no to that smile?

“Sure,” he sighed, “have you been ice skating before?”

Iruma shook his head, so Tellur held out his hands, “the hardest part will be keeping your balance, I'll help you with it,”

“O-okay!” Iruma grabbed his hands, and he stepped carefully onto the water, holding on tightly as he slipped. Tellur kept his balance, patiently waiting for Iruma to find a good position that worked.

He slowly led them away from the shore, taking back one of his hands, “you'll move by putting your foot back like this,” he tilted his foot to the side, pushing it back which propelled them both forward, “as you can see it doesn't take a lot of force. It's easier to control when someone isn't holding on to you, so I'll let go,”

“Wha-” Iruma slipped as he pulled his other hand away, but Tellur was quick to catch him, “thanks,”

“Sorry, should've made sure you were ready,” he took his hands back more slowly, “I'll be here for support,”

The human pushed forward, flying across the water and flailing his arms. Tellur caught up to him, stifling his laugh.

Iruma started laughing too, grabbing on to his arm for support. “How do you make it look so easy?”

“I like the water,” he shrugged, “bend your knees a bit more,”

Iruma did as told and tried again, with minimal flailing this time. He was getting better quickly, gliding instead of sliding. It felt a little like dancing with someone, or teaching someone to dance. He remembers taking dance lessons in his past life, teaching his friends in the woods whenever they could find the spare time.

“This is fun!” Iruma smiled widely, twirling around experimentally. Tellur was quick to steady him when the twirl went too quickly for him to handle, “thanks,”

“No problem,” he helped him up straight, and smiled as Iruma watched the fish darting below with wonder. Why did everyone have to be so beautiful? Why did everything have to be so beautiful. The way the sun lit up his blue hair with streaks of gold, the large fish minding their business underneath them. Iruma's stupid, pretty smile.

It felt like a dream, and he wanted to save this moment in time forever.

“I think I've got the hang of it now, can you support two more people? I think Clara and Azz-kun are getting a little antsy on land,” Iruma's voice snapped him out of it, and he nodded, looking over to the other two and seeing the jealous glares directed at him.

Oh, wow. Has he made an enemy of Asmodeus?

“Yeah, that's probably a good idea,” he started skating to shore, making sure Iruma really could hold his own, “and I can handle it,”

Iruma beamed, waving them over. He huffed a sigh, schooling his face so his irritation didn't show. It's not that he didn't like Clara and Asmodeus, he just wanted a bit more time with Iruma.

He'll have to do some research into the flora and fauna around here, see what time would be best to come back. Alone. Or with Purson and Jazz, though they don't seem like the type for skating.

“I'll teach Clara and you can teach Azz-kun!” Tellur looked at the still glaring demon, though maybe it could be classified more as a pout.

He wasn't sure if this was better or worse than having to teach Clara, at least he's completely sure there won't be any impromptu song and dance.

He held out his hand to Asmodeus, “have you ice skated before?”

He nodded, briskly stepping onto the water with him. For a fire demon, he really could be cold.

“I don't need your assistance,” the demon gazed longingly at Clara and Iruma.

“Then we can just go over there,” he shrugged, maintaining a proper distance, “if you don't need to learn,”

There seemed to be conflicting emotions on Asmodeus's face, and then he sighed, “I suppose it'd be nice to touch up my skills before approaching Iruma-sama,”

He took his hand, glaring intently at him, “teach me how to do what you were doing before,”

Ah, the woes of being in love. He didn't know them well, but he could clearly see how devoted Asmodeus was to Iruma.

“Right, follow my lead,”

~

When he went back to his dorm, he was pleased to find that both the smell and mana were gone.

The first thing he did was find his sketchbook and draw Iruma.

~

The days passed quickly, his main job in the library battler was moving things around and stocking shelves. But sometimes he would be called in to help contain cursed books.

Though, when they figured out he was good with runes they had him fortifying the old books, which he did very afraid that he would break something. It was tedious, but relaxing. Most of his free time was spent helping out at the library in preparation for the Battler party.

Their plan was to make an immersive reading room where the surroundings changed depending on how far along in the book the demon was.

It wasn't going well, the battler had enough people that he only really needed to help with basic stuff, so he was stuck in moral support and carrying things around.

On the plus side he got a new tool! It allowed him to make blueprints, then saved those blueprints into a wooden wand. He felt a little like an old school wizard, especially once he figured out that he could project runes in the air.

Runes, by themselves, mostly serve as a means of protection, because active runes take a lot of time to write and mana to maintain.

Now he just needed to see if he could infuse the projected runes with mana.

~

He could not, and proceeded to mope about it for the entire day.

~

“So what battlers have you joined?” Tellur asked, sitting on the table. Jazz and Purson were too tall for the seats he was comfortable with, and so, table.

“I'm joining the new magic battler,” Jazz leaned back in the chair, “I won't say much but our battler party presentation is going to be pretty cool,”

“I haven't joined one,” Purson looked over his book, “but it seems like you're having fun here,”

“You're such a stalker,” he huffed, ducking his head to stare at his book again. He wasn't doing much actual reading, he kept trailing off into thought and having to start the page over again, “... I'm bored,”

“Isn't that what that book's for?”

“I'm bored of the book,” he shut it, setting it down and laying across the table so he was facing Jazz, “entertain me,”

A hand started running through the hair that was dangling off the table, “what if there was a pastry with savory filling?”

“That already exists,” he analyzed Jazz’s face, despite the many times he's done this before. He already knew it by heart, “I can make it for you if you'd like,”

“Not right now,” Jazz smiled, and Tellur wished he opened his mouth just a little wider so he could count his teeth.

.

.

.

… wait, that was a really weird thought.

He sat back up on the table, feeling the way Jazz's hands got caught in a knot as he quickly ascended, and hid his face in another book. That was enough of staring at his friends' faces, he is now going to stare at this etiquette book and not at anyone else.

Jazz let out a small laugh, “what was that? I thought we were comfy,”

“I'm just suddenly really invested in etiquette,” he didn't look up, and it felt like a chore to keep forcing himself to read.

“I bet he had an embarrassing thought,” Tellur flushed and hid his face deeper in his book at Purson's remark, “yeah, see?”

“Awwww,” a hand started poking his side, “there's no need to be embarrassed,”

He ducked his head, bringing up the book so it completely covered his face, “stop poking me,” Tellur peaked out hesitantly, staring at Jazz's face again.

He put the book down completely, laying on his back again, “you have nice hands,”

The tie in his hair was undone and set aside, and Jazz resumed in combing out the knots in his hair, “thank you, you know-”

”- it's such a shame I can't kill you,”

Tellur choked, wheezing in a breath and coughing. He couldn't do anything about the barriers around his neck, slowly pressing in.

“But nee-san wants you alive,” Kiriwo smiled at him, and he knew the look in his eyes. He knew what it looked like when someone was committing something to memory, he's done it so often after all. “Still, I wish I could see the looks on everyone’s faces if I just lobbed this head right off,”

A dull claw traced his neck, and the barriers grew tighter. But he was close, and that was a mistake Tellur wouldn't let go unpunished.

“how do you think the teachers will react when they find the lost little puppy-” he reached out with his left talon, quickly grabbing Kiriwo's shoulder and sinking his claws into the flesh.

His senpai instinctively jolted away, leaving part of the skin in his grasp, “I'm going to make you pay for that-”

“- I could help you with painting your nails sometime, I have a good few polishes to choose from,”

He took in a deep breath, slowly. Calming his racing heart. Okay, well. Hopefully not all of his visions will be of him suffering injuries. But two for two isn't the best track record.

“Tellur? You okay?” He opened his eyes to look at Jazz, who had a concerned frown, “if the nail polish bothers you that much then we don't have to do it,”

He smiled, wrestling with emotions, “no, that sounds really fun. I just, gotta go real quick. I'll be right back!”

Jazz pulled his hands back, so Tellur rolled off the table, booking it down the hall.

Who would be good? His first thought was Kalego-sensei, but the vision was clearly at night. Kalego-sensei was never In the building for longer than he needed to be. Balam-sensei sometimes stayed overnight, but that wasn't with enough consistency that he felt like putting his life on it.

He ducked into Blushenko-sensei’s classroom, beelining it to his desk.

“Izayoi? Are you alright?”

“No, I am not. And I need your number,” he took out his phone, pulling up Deviline.

“What's the matter?” He looked up, quickly transferring the number to his phone. Blushenko-sensei looked worried, which was fair.

“I think I'm going to get kidnapped sometime between now and the battler party,” he put his phone away, tapping his claws on the table as he tried to remember the details, “it'll happen in the library and at night, so since you're here overnight most days anyways, I thought you'd be the safest person to tell,”

The teacher's face was a mixture of touched and concerned, “a vision then?”

He nodded, taking another deep breath in an effort to calm down.

“I'll make you some tea, sit down.”

He glanced up quickly, ignoring the lightheadedness that stemmed from the action, “what? No it's really all right, I need to get back to my friends anyways,”

Was it hard to breathe? It felt hard to breathe. Maybe there was something in the air.

“No, what you need is to sit down and calm down,” he was guided to a chair, and really the only reason he sat down was because he felt like he was going to fall.

There wasn't this much of a reaction after his first vision, why can't he breathe?

A cup of tea was pressed into his hands, the warmth seeping into his wrists. The hands holding it only backed away once Tellur had a strong grip on it.

The smell was nice, floral, with a hint of spice. But he had to keep his nose from scrunching up as he tried it. There was absolutely no sweetener in it, so he settled for breathing in the steam.

He was in Blushenko-sensei’s classroom, the teacher was sitting in front of him. There was a group of three students passing by. Purson and Jazz were still in the library. Kalego-sensei was teaching a class, as was Balam-sensei. Iruma and his army were in a part of the school he wasn't familiar with. Probably checking out some battlers.

At some point Blushenko-sensei had started talking, it was a little obvious that he wasn't used to keeping a steady stream of words going, but it was comforting nonetheless.

It reminded him of when his dad used to play the piano, a calming background noise he could use to collect his thoughts.

… he had a dad?

He stared at the swirling cup of tea for a moment, before standing up with a bow.

“Thank you sensei, I really should be on my way now,”

“Very well, take care Izayoi,”

He nodded, setting down the still full tea cup and walking back to the library.

~

There was a buzz in the air as Kalego-sensei explained what the battler party would entail. His mother had called on the weekend saying she would absolutely be there. Which will be nice, he's been staying at the dorms over the weekend to help with his battlers project, so he hasn't gotten to see her as often.

Jazz was currently in a conversation with Goeman and Lied, so Tellur stuck to sketching out what he remembered of Kiriwo's face. It wasn't a lot, and even now he could feel an emptiness when he tried to locate the upperclassman.

He ran his thumb over his painted claws, marveling at the smoothness. He should have Jazz paint them more often, they were a nice blue that popped out against the dull yellow-green of his scales.

Purson was looking out the window, was he even going to the battler party? Was he allowed?

He closed his book, walking over to the purple haired demon, “are your parents coming?”

“No. I’m not in a battler anyways so it's not like it matters,” Tellur frowned, sitting beside him.

This was sad, “do you want to help me bake sweets for the other battlers after classes?” Purson looked interested, which was a success! “I was thinking cookies, and you’ll get all the extras obviously,”

“Chocolate chip would be good, everyone likes the classics,” Tellur opened his sketchbook, flipping to the recipe’s page.

“With or without caramel?”

“With,”

~

“Do not eat that,” Tellur pulled Purson away from the stove, the other demon was currently invisible, so he wasn’t sure exactly what he tripped on, “that will burn you if you eat it right now, do you know how hot boiling sugar is?”

Purson reappeared with a sheepish look, the spoon he used to have somewhere on the other side of the dorm. Tellur’s not exactly sure where it went, but he’ll find it eventually if he doesn't want pests.

“Too hot I'm guessing?”

“Yes.”

~

First stop, the New Magic battler. Then they’d go to Magic Apparatuses, then finally the Library battler.

“You always let Jazz have first pick,” Purson teased, or complained, Tellur’s not sure which. “Is he your favorite?”

“I don’t have favorites,” he stood on the tips of his talons, knocking on the door, “and you had the first ones out of the oven,”

“True,”

An upperclassman opened the door, he had long purple hair and green glasses. Tellur was going to have a problem if everyone in Jazz’s battler was as pretty as he was, there’s only so much time in the day he can draw.

“Hello?”

“Hi! We brought gifts,” Tellur held up the bag of cookies, and watched how the demon’s eyes widened.

“Sure, come in,” the door was held open, so Tellur ducked in, Purson on his heels.

“Jazz! I made chocolate caramel cookies!” The battler room was a mess, different calculations and rocks strewn about. He wasn’t even going to try to decode any of it.

“Oh? Nice,” Jazz poked his head into the room, “I’ll finish this quickly,”

Tellur nodded, opening the bag and offering the sweets to the president. Who eagerly took three.

Jazz came up behind him, snatching two from the bag, “are these for everyone? This is a big bag,”

He nodded, handing them off. “We still have a few more places to visit,”

“Have fun, do you want me to do your nails for the battler party?”

“Absolutely.”

~

Now he just needed to make his way to the Magical Apparatuses battler, which is probably the most important part of this trip. The cookies were fun, but he needed to catch Kiriwo off guard in order to memorize his face, and there was the chance of finding something with that anti-tracking spell.

It was a reconnaissance cookie mission.

Tellur knocked on the door, stepping back as Iruma opened it.

“Tellur-kun! Come in!” no greeting for Purson?- ah, he was invisible. That boy was down bad.

“Iruma,” he smiled, shoving the bag of cookies into his arms, “they’re caramel chocolate chip, I haven’t seen your battler yet! Do you mind if I come in?”

He opened the door further, and Tellur immediately stepped in, glancing around until his eyes caught on Kiriwo.

“Are you interested in this stuff? I’ve seen some of the runic work you do on a few of these items,” Tellur let out an interested hum, focused on how Kiriwo’s eyes widened behind his glasses. He could track him, that was the biggest realization. That meant that the spell wasn’t permanent, or maybe it was an item that activated it. Kiriwo’s rank Bet so it probably wouldn’t be runes, too weak of mana to sustain that for a long time.

He turned back to Iruma, “yeah, it’s really interesting isn’t it?”

“It is! There’s so much I’m learning here!” then Iruma grabbed his wrist, pulling him towards Kiriwo, “this is Kiriwo-senpai! He’s our president! Kiriwo-senpai, this is Tellur-kun!”

Kiriwo smiled, the strange expression on his face slipping away, “it’s nice to meet you,”

“Nice to meet you too,” he dipped his head, “I was thinking of joining before the Library battler kidnapped me,”

“That’s a shame,” his voice was calm and gentle, and if he didn’t know any better he’d think the demon was harmless, “but I’m glad to have so many kouhai interested!”

There’s no way he’d lose him now, “we do have to get going, we have our own projects to work on. I can’t wait to see your presentation!”

Iruma waved him out, smiling the whole time. Hopefully he’d like the cookies.

Purson put hand on his shoulder as they were passing through an empty hallway, “what was that about?”

“What was what about?” he looked up at his ally, slowing his walk.

“The look you gave Kiriwo-senpai,” the other boy frowned, “do you know him?”

Tellur shrugged, “no? I didn’t realize I was giving him a look,”

“You definitely were, it was weird,”

He returned his walk to his normal pace, looking straight forward, “must’ve been the light in there then,”

The hand on his shoulder tightened, before letting go, “... if you say so,”

~

Tellur dropped off the cookies in the repurposed back room of the library, Purson following him quietly. Which, while not uncommon, was a little concerning.

“Is something wrong?”

“Why are you lying to me?”

“What? I’m not-” he totally was, ah. Alright, “okay so maybe I am,” he sat on the table, putting his claws on his knees, “but there’s a reason for it,” telling him would only make him worry, or it could get out. And if it got out, he wasn’t sure what would happen. Nothing good.

Purson stayed quiet for a moment, “... I don’t like not knowing things, so could you tell me eventually?”

Tellur nodded, “I can do that, if you can wait for me,”

“I can wait,”

~

“I brought a few more colors that I think would look good on you,” Jazz walked into his room, setting down the polishes on the floor, “and this color changing one I think you’ll really like,”

Tellur sat down with his legs crossed, looking over the shades, “you have so many,”

“Most people do, these are pretty old though,” Jazz sat beside him, “except for this one,” he pushed forward a bottle that seemed to shift in color, swirling from red to blue in an instant.

“Ooh,” he leaned forward, gently tilting the bottle around, “pretty,”

“Should we do that one first then?” Jazz finished arranging the colors, there were around fifteen of them, “it stays like that even when dry,”

Tellur nodded, handing him the bottle, “that's cool, do you know the magic behind it?”

Jazz took his hand, and Tellur spread his fingers to make it easier for him. “No, not yet. The company's really keeping a tight lip on it, but it seems like an altered non-newtonian,”

Wow, he doesn't know what that means.

Tellur nodded anyways, making sure that his breathing was quiet. He didn't want to be all awkward and all that about how loud his lungs were, especially when they were so close together. His breathing isn't even that loud, he doesn't know why he's worrying. “what spells are there for that?”

“It's a rune lined basin,” Jazz smoothed the brush over his claw, the polish setting in place near instantly, “that's what I've heard,”

“Hm, it probably feeds off the ambient mana demons put out to keep it’s movement,” he watched as Jazz gently blew on his nails, a feeling of affection rising through him. “if that's right then…” he pushed his mana to his fingertips, watching the colors swirl more quickly, “cool,”

He looked up to find Jazz staring at him, a soft look on his face that Tellur didn't understand.

“What? Do I have something here?” He brought a hand to his face, the one Jazz wasn't holding. He didn't feel anything, but it could be a stain.

“No no, you're fine,” Jazz shook his head, letting go of Tellur's right hand and gesturing for his left, “let me do your other hand,”

“Okay,” he smiled, happily complying.

~

There was a very obvious trap in the library, he knew this because the signature of his teacup had appeared there.

Clearly, clearly this was a trap. But Devi did he want to know why it was put there. Maybe, if the person trapping him was fond of monologues, he'd get some answers.

He flipped open his phone, sending Blushenko-sensei a quick [walking into a trap, first floor library], he would not be getting tortured, or whatever Kiriwo planned to do in his vision. Seemed like torture, and kidnapping. Neither of which are appealing.

He felt a few buzzes from his phone, and opened it while he was walking. Receiving a very blunt [if you know it's a trap why are you going?]

To which he replied, [for the laughs, wait 33 minutes before coming over]

The typing bubbles appeared and disappeared for a few moments, before a simple [child.] was sent. He took it as his cue to close his phone and open the library doors.

The fact that it was also the middle of the night and no one else was there solidified the whole ‘trap’ aspect.

He stepped carefully, keeping his breathing light in the dark and empty space. He couldn't sense anyone around, but that didn't really work with Kiriwo.

The bookshelves seemed to stretch upwards forever, light from one of the moons illuminating dust particles in the air. Every action seemed too loud for the space, every disturbance too great.

It was the perfect place for a trap. Kiriwo had good taste.

Tellur stepped up to the table, picking up his teacup, “can't believe I left it here,” he muttered, which was quite possibly, a huge mistake.

Barriers formed around his neck, suspending him in the air. Huh, square. So Kiriwo can't make round shapes. Tellur stuck his claws in the corners, tugging at the edge.

That… was not coming undone from his strength alone. Spells, spells, what spells could get him out of this?

“Hi~” Kiriwo stepped in front of him, “I know, it's rude of me to do this. But you're very slippery,”

The barriers tightened, and he pulled his hand out before he cut himself or got stuck. Okay, this is very uncomfortable, but he can still manage.

“Nee-san told me to look out for you,” yay! Monologue! He'll get some answers! “But I didn't realize you'd be such a problem.”

The upperclassman sighed, tilting his head to the side with a frown, “you are something special aren't you?”

Fuck, he was meant to be scared wasn't he, uhhh, “senpai? What's going on?”

“Too little too late Tellur-kun,” there was that gentle smile again, “you know, it's such a shame I can't kill you,”

The barriers around his neck tightened to a painful degree. Tellur played up his reaction, taking in a wheezing breath. He can act, he has to act. He was in no danger, Blushenko-sensei will save him.

“But nee-san wants you alive,” Kiriwo stepped closely, leaning towards him with a flushed smile, “Still, I wish I could see the looks on everyone’s faces if I just lobbed this head right off and left it here,”

A dull claw traced his neck, and the barriers grew tighter. Really fucking tight, the wheeze he drew in wasn't fake this time. But Kiriwo was close, and that was a mistake Tellur wouldn't let go unpunished.

“How do you think the teachers will react when they find the lost little puppy-” Tellur reached out with his talons, sinking his claws into Kiriwo’s shoulder and ripping down.

He felt the mana in the barriers shift, cracking under the distraction. He brought his hand up, pounding on it until it gave and he was dropped to the ground. Tellur took in a wheezing breath, then a few more for good measure.

He reached for his phone, but it was kicked away. The barriers reinstated themselves, pinning him to the ground. Tellur squirmed, taking in deep breaths as his airways were forced closed once more. He was really not enjoying this, “I'm going to make you pay for that,”

Oh, Kiriwo's holding a porcelain shard like a knife. He's enjoying that even less.

“I see what you are now,” Kiriwo leaned down, pressing the tip of the porcelain into the flesh of his upper arm, “I saw that look in your eye, and I know it well,”

He winced as blood started seeping down his arm, a mixture of his and the droplets falling off Kiriwo. Ew, ewww. He's sincerely hoping he has no weird diseases.

“You wanted me to hurt,” he picked a spot on the ceiling, staring at it until the rest of his vision started to blur. “You wanted me to bleed. Not just because I was hurting you, I know how you feel, because I feel the same way. You're a ticking time bomb Tellur-kun, and I'll be there to collect the-”

The speech cut off, and distantly he felt the porcelain being pulled from his arm.

“So tricky, I should've known you were smarter than that,” Tellur grinned weakly as the barriers vanished, Kiriwo stepping away, “did your curiosity reward you?”

He heard the sound of a window opening and closing, then a few moments later the sound of footsteps rushing in his direction.

He tried to take his eyes off the ceiling, but it wasn't until he felt the cool mana of a scan that he succeeded.

“Hi Blushenko-sensei,” he said weakly, smiling up at him and trying to push himself up, “I got my answers, kinda,” his voice hurt, a lot.

“it appears you also got tortured,” there were hands under his back and knees, and he found himself being lifted, “was it worth it?”

“did your curiosity reward you?”

His breath shuddered as he inhaled, and he didn't think it was because of how much his throat hurt. Don't cry don't cry don't cry, demons are never meant to be weak.

Tellur hid his face in the fabric of Blushenko-sensei’s shirt, desperately trying not to show his watering eyes. Maybe this was more pathetic, but maybe he also didn't care. It gave him another reason not to cry other than pride, if he cried he'd dirty the fabric.

It had nothing to do with how it kinda felt like a hug, nothing at all. It was a purely strategic decision to get his emotions under control.

And if he maybe dozed off there then really who could blame him?

~

Tellur woke up in the infirmary, coming to awareness slowly. It was bright, but the light was warmer than the back room.

His arms were cold, but they didn't hurt like he expected them to. He was settled weirdly on his back, his wing roots twinging in irritation.

Pushing himself into a sitting position, he looked around the room. It was empty except for him, with a few tables and vacant beds to the right of him. Tellur was in the corner it seemed, and he could still vaguely sense the mana of Blushenko-sensei.

He felt too drained to use Wayfinder, letting his head thunk against the wall with a sigh.

“I despise those who think lightly of pain,” Tellur forced himself to look towards his teacher, taking in a deep breath. And how nice was that, he could breathe, “so I sincerely hope this will not become a repeating incident.”

Heh, he's heard something like that before.

“I didn't mean to-” a glare was directed his way, and he shrunk back, “I didn't think it through, I'll do better next time,”

There was a sort of confused concerned look on Blushenko-sensei’s face, mixed in with the tired glare. It was amusing how Tellur could see the exact moment he put aside whatever he was thinking, “it's the morning of party day, your mother is here to see you,”

He straightened his back, trying to activate Wayfinder only to be met with a splitting headache.

“Child,” the glare was back, “your mana is depleted, refrain from using any spells. Your mother is in the room outside,”

“Yeah I think I got that,” he put a hand to his head, “what did you tell her?”

“That you were assaulted by a student,” Tellur grimaced, curling his hands into fists, “but I’m leaving it to you to tell her about the exact circumstances,”

Hm, is this his punishment for not planning ahead? He needs to think this through, what scenario can he create so that he won't be pulled out.

He looked down at his hands and oh, okay. His arm…

“Because of the severity of the cuts, I was unable to avoid scarring,” the white lines stretched from his wrist and ducked beneath his shirt, swirling around eachother with thick parts filled in by scar tissue. It was,

“Pretty,” he muttered, running his hand along the lines. At least Kiriwo didn’t make it ugly, although he wasn’t sure how he felt about having the older student’s design sprawling across his skin. Tellur knew he should feel horrid, he should feel angry and disgusted and all those awful feelings. But he just, didn’t. He didn’t feel that way, he didn’t want to analyze the swirling in his gut or the heat in his face. It was anger, just anger. That is what he calls it so that’s what it will be.

“... I’m telling Kalego to give you more homework.”

“What! Why?”

Blushenko-sensei walked to the door, opening it, “you can come in now miss Izayoi,”

His mother immediately pushed her way into the room, racing to his side and enveloping him in a hug, “what did I say aout fights you couldn’t win?”

“Not to start them,” he muttered, relaxing as he felt his mother’s mana flow over him, “but I didn’t start it, it was a trap,”

“That you fell for?”

“I wanted to know who would trap me!” he raised his head, looking his mother in the eyes. They had the same electric shade of blue that his did, “and I figured it out,”

“But you also got hurt,” she pulled away from him, and gently grabbed his arm, “I don’t think this is worth your answers,”

He ran his eyes over the designs again, internally admiring it.

His mother glared at him, “no.”

“I didn’t even say anything!”

“It’s what you were thinking, you got hurt, this is not a good thing,”

“I didn’t think it was!”

“It doesn’t matter how detailed the scars are,”

“Mom!”

“They’re still horrible and I hate that you got hurt,” she fixed him with an intense look, “I’m pulling you out.”

“What?! No! No, mom I promise this is a one time thing!” he grabbed onto her arm.

“It shouldn’t have happened at all,” she put her hands on his shoulders, “my decision is final,”

“Mom please, I have allies now! I’m learning so much here and the people around me are amazing!” don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry, “if you pull me out I won’t talk to you for months, no! A year. It’ll be horrible and awkward and you’ll hardly ever see me at home because I’ll avoid you!”

“Are you threatening me?” her gaze was level, and he was tempted to shrink back.

“Yes. I am.” he glared at her, pushing her hand off of his shoulder, “I love it here mom, I really, really want to stay,”

She stared into his eyes for a moment, analyzing his resolve. Before she sighed, shaking her head.

“Fine. You can stay,” she put her hand back on his shoulder, feeding his mana with hers. “But I don’t want to hear of this kind of thing happening again. Got it?”

“I’ll try mom,” she leaned down, kissing his forehead.

“That’s all I want to hear, now let's meet these allies of yours, have you told me their names?” she took her hands away, allowing him to get up.

“There’s Jazz, Purson, and Iruma,” he smiled, taking her hand as they walked out, “thank you Blushenko-sensei!”

“Don’t use too many spells,” he ordered, writing something down on a clipboard.

“I won’t!”

~

“Right, Purson is… somewhere,” he tried reaching out with Wayfinder, and while not the splitting headache he had before, the signatures were hazy at best. “Probably at the main event, which reminds me! I need to show you my battler presentation!”

“You joined a battler?”

“It’s more like they abducted me, but I’m having fun!”

“I’m very concerned for your school days,”

~

“Jazz!” Tellur let go of his mothers hand, running forward, “Hi!”

“Tellur,” he smiled, putting a hand on his head, “where did you go? You missed all the excitement,”

“Excitement? What happened?”

“Iruma made this weird light flower and shot it up into the sky, he called them fireworks,” he missed the fireworks?! “I looked but I couldn’t find you, I’m sure someone got a video or two,”

A taller demon with shaggy black hair approached, putting his hand on Jazz’s shoulder, “Jazzy, who’s this,”

“This is Tellur,” Jazz pulled his hand away as Tellur’s mother approached, “and his mom?”

“Yep!” he put his hand out, looking up at the taller demon, “It’s nice to meet you! Please give me back my wallet!”

He tsked, handing it back with a small smile, “how’d you know?”

“That’s a secret,” he smiled back, then excitedly waved his mom over, “mom! This is Jazz! He’s who I was telling you about!”

“It’s good to meet one of my son’s alliances,” his mom smiled, pulling Tellur into a half hug. Oh no, what was she planning, “He was always so lonely when he was younger, it makes my heart happy to see he’s enjoying himself here,”

Jazz looked up at his mother, then back down at Tellur, “is that how tall you’re going to get?”

He nodded proudly, standing on his tiptoes.

“I’m only going to get as tall as that guy over there,” Jazz pointed his thumb back at his brother.

“Hey!”

“Have you seen Purson around?” Tellur squirmed out of his mothers hold, standing in front of Jazz.

“You don’t know where he is?”

“No,”

Jazz smiled, very suspiciously. “Haven’t seen him,”

Someone touched his shoulder, and he turned his head to see Purson standing there, “oh, there you are! This is my mother,”

“I see,” Purson dipped his head, “it’s nice to meet you miss Izayoi,”

“Your friends are so polite,” his mother patted Purson’s head, “they pass,”

“Huh?”

“Mom, please.”

Chapter Text

Tellur’s mother and Jazz’s brother shooed them off so they could gossip, and Tellur took the opportunity gladly.

“I missed the whole event yesterday,” he complained, putting his hands on his head, “I bet there was so much food,”

“Eh, not really,” Jazz shrugged, and Purson followed behind. “You missed all the opening acts though, I think Iruma's might've been the coolest,”

“It was pretty, the whole sky lit up,” Purson matched his walking speeding, staying by his side, “it's a shame their senpai got expelled, I would like to see that again,”

A tension he didn't realize he was holding loosened, and he tried not to let his relief show.

“Expelled!? Why?”

“I only saw the tail end of it, but they went all out on containing him, he didn't even fight,”

“Aww, does that mean their battler's dissolved?”

“It should,”

Tellur let the chatter roll over him, and he took a deep breath. He felt all warm and tingly inside, smiling at his friends’ conversation.

“You’re a ticking time bomb Tellur-kun, and I'll be there”

What did his senpai mean by that? What was he going to say? Tellur idly rubbed at his arm, feeling the scar tissue beneath the smooth fabric of his jacket, something about it made him feel… excited, weirdly enough. Which he knew for a fact was the wrong emotion to feel, he can't be both relieved someone was gone and excited to see them again. Especially not when that someone was Kiriwo.

“Oh look, face paint. Let's go get matching designs,” Purson grabbed his and Jazz's wrists, dragging them over, “I vote for the music notes,”

“But look at how pretty the gold paint is, surely we should get something with that,”

“Can't we just get golden music notes?”

Tellur rolled his shoulders, smiling to get rid of his thoughts, “we could get them color coordinated,” he doesn't need to worry about that right now, he can unravel his emotions later.

“... What are our colors?”

Uhhhh, “purple, red, and orange?”

“Couldn't you also be blue?”

“I don't know!”

~

They ended up getting black music notes with gold outlines. Tellur's was smudged within thirty minutes.

And when night fell, he dragged Purson and Jazz to the top of the fifth year building to watch the explosions of color.

The reds and blues and greens, it reminded him of… something.

Of sitting on a grassy hill, his brown hair being lit up with the sky and the grass poking him irritably. His conversation going silent at the sound of the first pop.

“Hey hey,” Jazz nudged his shoulder, looping his arm through Tellur's, “don't fall asleep on us here, it's pretty steep,”

He yawned widely, using the motion to grab Purson's hand, “I'm tired of sleeping anyways,”

“That makes no sense,” Purson tightened his grip on Tellur's hand, “how can you be tired of sleeping?”

“Easy,” Tellur proceeded not to elaborate, focusing on the light show in front of them.

“And the next part?”

“... We should have a sleepover at my dorm,” he stated, leaning into Jazz's side, “that'd be fun,”

“Smooth subject change,” Purson pulled out his phone, the light from the screen illuminating his face, “I'll ask my mother,”

“I'm down, we can have matching nails for the award ceremony,”

He hmm'd, eyes growing heavy, “your battler's going to win the wow award, the communication battler will win the grand prize, and the succubus battler get the other one,”

There were a few seconds of silence, and he looked up to find both of them staring at him.

Then Jazz huffed, smiling, “wanna bet on it?”

“Sure, it's a shame you'll lose,” he put his head back down on Jazz’s chest, tightening his grip on Purson's hand, “I almost feel bad about it,”

“Loser does the other's homework,”

“Bet,”

Purson leaned forward, “can I get in on this too? I bet Tellur's right,”

“Wait, this is looking bad for me,” Jazz laughed nervously, “shouldn't you make your own guess?”

“No, Tellur's usually right about weird things like this,” Purson held up the hand not holding his, “be prepared to do triple homework,”

“...” Jazz looked at the roof tiles, “hey maybe we should rework the bet a little,”

“No,” Tellur smiled, “I think this is fine,”

~

Purson’s mother said no, so the sleepover plan was postponed to another day. Tellur was a little grateful, and a little disappointed. He wanted time to sort out his thoughts, but he also wanted to ignore those thoughts for as long as possible. There was something to be said about, well, there were many things to be said about his tangled mess of emotions, none of which he will ever speak to another person. His thoughts were for his brain and his brain only.

And they didn’t even matter because he would never see Kiriwo again.

Tellur let out a sigh, untying the cord holding his hair in its bun. He’s being so stupid, affection is not given to those who hurt him. It’s not meant to be, why does he feel so conflicted? He didn’t know Kiriwo, hardly even met him before the crazy ass carved into his skin. It should be cut and dry, hate and apathy.

So why?

He twirled a strand of hair around his finger before straightening it out, focusing on the bright blue that was dimmed in the low light.

“Cherusil,”

He watched the brown spread to the tips, and pulled his hand away. Hatred, he needed to feel hatred. He hated those who hurt him, he hated having a psychopath’s design permanently etched on his skin, he hated it. He hated it.

… Why can’t he feel angry?

Why is his face smiling and flushed?

He needs to hate it. He can’t let a weakness like this survive.

~

“Tellur,” Jazz smiled when he saw him, and Tellur found himself smiling back, “what’s up with your hair?”

“I just thought it was time for a change,” he caught up to Jazz, taking large steps to stay with the taller students excited walk, “do you like it?”

“It looks nice,” Jazz leaned down, running his fingers over the pulled back lock of brown hair, “but now you have three colors,”

“...” he grimaced, “I’ll have to think of a primary one,”

~

The award ceremony went exactly as Tellur said, with the addition of the new tricky award. Jazz stated that because of the award the homework should be halved, which Tellur could argue with, but didn’t. The three of them ended up doing it together anyways.

~

“Hello? Is this Our Battler?” Tellur pushed open the door, and watched how the gazes dropped to his eye level. “I was told you helped with problems?”

He recognized a few of their signatures, and the smell of the one in the hood. Gunpowder and smoke, Blushenko-sensei smelled like that.

Was that a weird thought?

“You’re from the Misfits class aren’t you?” a demon in a beanie leaned down, analyzing him. Tellur could play at that too, “you don’t look like that much trouble,”

A sense of recognition had him tilting his head, “you’re from Blushenko-sensei’s homeroom right?”

“How did you know that?”

“Not telling!” he smiled, then looked around the dusty battler room, “but I would like to request help,”

“What do you need help with?” a blue haired demon with swirly glasses pushed aside beanie, smiling in an innocent way.

Hm, sketchy.

“I wanted to make a thank you gift for Blushenko-sensei,” he fiddled with the strap of his sketchbook, recently implemented so there was no chance of it getting snatched, “but I have no clue what he’d want,”

“He likes explosions!” the hooded kid pushed forward, grinning widely, “things that go kaboom!”

He’s pretty sure that's incorrect, it might have the opposite effect if he gifts the teacher a bomb.

“That’s just you Zom,” beanie came to the front again, “he likes things that bring attention! You should get him something flashy!”

He narrowed his eyes, “maybe I should just ask Balam-sensei,”

“Wait wait wait!” swirls grabbed his shoulder, and Tellur really was considering just biting him to be left alone. Wow, he’s in a mood today, wonder what that’s about. Maybe he’s just coming down from the excitement of before. “We can figure this out! Shaoron and Zom will help you,”

“I didn’t agree to anything!” beanie stated loudly, so which one was that? Maybe Shaoron? Definitely Shaoron, he called the other Zom earlier, “but I will help,”

“We’re gonna have so much fun!” hooded kid, Zom? Zom threw an arm around his shoulder, “we’ll get you the perfect gift,”

He really should’ve just gone to Balam-sensei.

~

They spent the next hour talking to the other students, which Tellur quickly figured out was exhausting and he never wanted to do it again.

“Blushenko-sensei? I heard he was a lightweight,”

“Maybe something medicinal?”

“Everyone likes sweets,”

“I don’t know,”

“Have you tried asking him?”

Overall, it was useless.

~

“I’m asking Balam-sensei,” Tellur glared at the floor, turning on the pad of his talons towards the teachers prep room.

“Wait wait wait!” that’s happened too many times now, “doesn’t he experiment on students? Won’t that be dangerous?”

“No, who told you that?” Tellur knew the rumors, especially when they often included him, “you’re not scared are you?”

“Of course not!” There was a look on Shaoron’s face, Tellur wasn’t quite sure what it meant, “lets go,”

Zom grinned, and Tellur pushed the eccentric student away as he tried to climb on his back.

“It’s this way,” Tellur corrected, not looking back. He’s tired of these two, this whole situation could’ve been avoided.

“Right,”

~

Tellur knocked on the door, and smiled brightly when Balam-sensei opened it. “Hi sensei! Can we come in?”

“Tellur?” the teacher opened the door further, allowing them to duck in, “did you come for a new teacup? I realize that after what happened it might hold bad memories,”

“...” he completely forgot about that, “yes, but I also have a question to ask,”

“A question?” Balam-sensei easily handled the eccentric Zom, patting the explosive demon's head, “what is it?”

“Do you know what Blushenko-sensei likes? I want to make him a thank you gift,”

“Hmm,” Balam idly kept Zom occupied, letting the student hang off his arm, “well I’m not sure, I saw him order dragonfruit wine at our last drinking party,”

Well then, he has a flavor. Albeit a flavor that’s difficult to get at his age, but he’ll manage.

“I think I heard him mention something about strawberries a little while back, though I can’t recall if he liked or hated them,”

A wild card, either damnation or success.

“Thank you sensei,” he opened his sketchbook, tapping the end of the pencil on the page, “now to just, figure it out,”

“I’m sure an idea will come to you,” a hand patted his head, taking care to not mess up his hair, “in the meantime, let me get you a new cup,”

Balam moved to the kitchenette, and Shaoron looked at him curiously, “what happened with a cup?”

A psychopath used it to lure him into a trap then tortured him with the broken shards, it’s bloodstained and every time he looks at it he can’t discern whether he’s feeling hatred or admiration, “nothing, it just broke,”

Shaoron looked unconvinced, but Tellur honestly didn’t care. He barely knew the other demon, how convinced he was of his lie had little impact on anything.

“Balam-sensei isn’t as scary as I thought,” Shaoron stated, looking over his shoulder at the concept sketches, “not that I was scared before of course,”

“He’s fun,” Zom grinned, and Tellur wasn’t sure what it meant.

“Yeah, he is,” he looked back down at his book, circling the recipe he wanted to make, “we’re very lucky to have him as our teacher,”

Balam came back into the room, a happy look on his face as he handed Tellur another porcelain cup. As blank as the other one. Tellur should add some designs, it’s unlikely he’ll get tortured with this one too.

“Here you are, do you need anything else?” Tellur shook his head, stepping towards the door.

“No, I’m alright. Thank you sensei!” He smiled, opening the door and stepping out.

“So,” Shaoron threw an arm around his shoulder, “would you say we successfully helped you?”

“...” he narrowed his eyes at the demon, “no. Ask your teacher about what he likes and then you’ll have helped,”

“Got it!”

~

Tellur went back to his dorm annoyed and determined, taking stock of his ingredients. He’s not sure how he’ll pull this off, dragonfruit was infamously hard to obtain, being harvested from trees that wyverns used as nests.

Kalego-sensei was powerful, and rich. How likely is it that he can convince the teacher to get him some, or at the very least show him where he can harvest it himself.

Tellur definitely needs to bring something, a trade for the information. He could make the croissants again, but the repetitiveness might ruin his shot. Everyone knows that oftentimes having the same thing too much makes it intolerable.

It didn’t happen with Tellur personally all that much, but his mother was very careful to sparingly indulge in her favorite things to keep them her favorite.

So not croissants.

He’s not completely sure what else he could do that wasn’t sweet. That was his biggest issue. If it weren’t for Kalego-sensei’s strange like of bitterness he would’ve been able to whip up a plethora of different bribes in days.

Ugh, maybe he should just wait a bit. Let the idea come to him. Maybe a savory puff pastry, which runs into the fanciness problem. Again.

Maybe he should’ve researched more fancy savory food while he was alive, in his past life? He’s alive now, it’s not healthy to think of himself as dead. Despite how accurate it feels to describe it that way. How was he meant to be alive when he felt himself die?

Hm, crisis for another day that will hopefully never come. He needs to go home this weekend anyways, his mother will have an idea. Probably.

~

His mother ushered him in the door with a cooked devicrab leg being pushed into his hands, already fussing over the nonexistent damage to him.

She’s been so protective ever since the battler party. She didn’t even seem to enjoy the gossip time she got with Jazz’s brother, saying the conversation was nice with a forced smile when Tellur asked.

“Nothing else happened while you were there right? No more fights? No more injuries?”

“I’m fine mom,” he smiled, taking a bite of the crab leg with restrained hunger, he had forgotten to eat before flying over, “it was really fun! Jazz helped me with my homework and the kid that hurt me got” was Kiriwo expelled or suspended? He forgot, “expelled,” that would put his mother more at ease.

“I’m glad,” she corralled him into the living room, “I got some new berry clippings I think you’ll like, they’ve been rooting for a week now so I’m sure we can plant them,”

He perked up at the mention of them, “do you have a place picked out?”

“I was thinking near the hellhen pen, something has been getting near recently,” his mother brought out the clippings, he didn’t recognize any of them, but at least three were responding to the mana his mother put out. “The rune’s should keep it out, but better safe than sorry,” at that she gave him a pointed look that made him shrink back.

“... I’ll keep that in mind,”

She sighed, handing him two of the clippings while she held onto the other three. Waiting for him to finish the devicrab leg before leading him outside as well.

Tellur was used to her worrying over him, but this felt a little excessive.

“Mom I’m fine,” he insisted, after the fifth time she turned her gaze towards him, “It’s all healed,”

She sighed, kneeling in the dirt and easily cleaving away a hole with her claws, “... I’m just worried about you, can you blame me?”

He didn’t know the answer to that, so he stayed silent. Kneeling beside her and digging out a hole of his own.

“You’ve always been so… distant isn’t the right word, but I can’t think of a better one,” distant? Has he been distant? “Until recently I never had any clue why. You’ve always been easy to take care of, never picking up a fuss, always cleaning after yourself. At first I was relieved at how you acted, I wasn’t ready to take care of you, I wasn’t even ready to have you at first.”

Tellur took the cutting out of its pot, gently placing it in the soil and covering the roots.

“But as you got older, I started to worry about how you weren’t a normal child. I had heard all about how difficult I was growing up, and my younger siblings were terrors in their own rights,” he held his breath, before slowly and quietly releasing it. His mother never talked about her family much, so he did his best to listen, “so when you arrived, all quiet, contemplative glances and a burning desire to learn, I didn’t know what to do. I kept you to myself, I didn’t want everyone’s expectations to weigh on you,”

“I was always worried that’s why you were so quiet, the lack of socialization, but it became clear that it was something else,” she took a deep breath, clearing another hole, “and when you asked to go to Babyls, I was… conflicted. It’s really the only thing you’ve ever asked for, but I don’t want you getting hurt. I know I can’t protect you forever, but you’re still my baby boy, no matter what memories you have up here,”

She tapped the top of his head, and he smiled at her, something small and unsure.

“I guess that makes sense,” he grabbed another clipping, setting it in one of the empty holes, “you were expecting a normal demon kid, and got me instead. It probably was startling,”

She pulled him into her side, hugging him tightly. “Don’t say things like that, you’re my son, I wouldn’t have asked for anyone else,”

“You don’t know that,” he muttered, glaring at the ground. He felt her tense up, and Tellur refused to look her in the eyes, “I could’ve just stolen his body, I have no idea the fate that this body awaited before I inhabited it,”

She pulled him into a tighter hug, cupping his face and forcing him to look at her. Even as he kept his gaze on the ground, it wasn’t enough to block out the angry and devastated expression on her face. It hurt, but it was better this way. If she finally cast him aside for this, he’d be alright with it. She could mourn the son she’d never got to meet and he’d be able to keep out of her hair.

“No, oh no sweetie is that what you think?” he closed his eyes, willing the tears to go away. He couldn’t cry, couldn’t guilt her like that, “you are my son, you’re the one I’ve raised, the one I took care of when sick, the one I taught to preen his feathers. You are my only child, and while it’s true that you could’ve been different, I don’t want you to be. I love you, not some imaginary child I’ve never met,”

Why doesn’t this affect her? Why isn’t she angry? She should be.

“And I’m so sorry if I’ve done anything to make you feel that way,” she rested her chin on his head, nuzzling her nose in his hair. It made him feel so impossibly safe, and he wasn’t sure if he deserved that safety, “I’m so proud of how far you’ve come,”

He stifled a sob, hiding his face in her shoulder. He shook his head, grabbing onto the warm fabric of her shirt, “no. No, I couldn’t have asked for a better mom,”

“And I couldn’t have asked for a better son,”

~

They finished up the planting, and his mom shooed him inside to rest. Tellur hated crying for this reason, his mom wasn’t a big crier, and so overestimated how much time he needed to recover. Though maybe she also needed time to recover, neither of them liked emotional talks.

… He was a little thankful for the rest, and when his mother woke him up for dinner he found his favorite netherworld dish sitting innocently on the table. A large, steamed gruesome grub with spicy dipping sauce.

Really, his mom was pulling out all the stops wasn’t she? He wasn’t going to complain. If she wanted to try and spoil him he had no intent to stop her.

~

Tellur woke up to the smell of eggs and something else drifting through the house, must be a new recipe. Smelled a bit like rice, but he hadn’t seen any here. Maybe another kind of grain with similar properties?

He walked to the dining room slowly, taking in the feeling of home that encased him. The light streaming in through the windows, the cold stone floors beneath him broken up periodically by soft rugs, the familiar mana pooling in his chest as he took in a deep breath.

Everything felt perfect, which is probably why things started going wrong almost immediately after he’d gotten a plate of food.

Someone knocked on the door as he took a bite of the cooked grains. It didn’t taste like rice, more like soybeans and oats, but it went well enough with the scrambled eggs.

“Mom? Are you expecting anyone?” he asked, watching her go tense. He didn’t recognize the signature, but something about it felt… oddly calming. For some reason it reminded him a little of his mothers signature.

“No, go to your room,” but, his food? “now Tellur,” he picked up his plate, cautiously eyeing the door as he retreated into the hallway. No way was he going to miss out on whatever the hell was going on here.

He heard his mother sigh heavily, but if she didn’t say anything about it then that must mean he was allowed.

His mother opened the door, and he pressed his back against the wall, keeping from sight. If his mother wanted him out of the way, then it must be someone she knew.

“Hiroki,” Hiroki? Has she ever mentioned a Hiroki before?.

“Ichika,” masculine voice, with a certain accent that sounded like his mothers. The way they said each other's names was filled with disdain, maybe siblings? That would explain the similar signature.

“What are you doing here,” wow, she was not happy with this visit. Definitely some bad blood, she normally kept up at least a small amount of politeness with other demons. Not that he’s seen many interactions, he had a very isolated childhood.

“Am I not allowed to visit my sister?” He was right! That meant he had an uncle! Actually, hold on. Tellur should wait before bestowing that title, the man might not deserve it.

“You’re not the type,” he heard someone step inside, the same clacking he and his mothers talons made on the ground, “why are you really here,”

“... who’s in the hallway,”

Shit, no, stay calm. He just needed to breathe.

“...” his mother stayed silent, but he could see her shadow move to block the entrance.

“Another secret lover? I bet dad will love to hear about this,” huh?

“You won't tell him anything,”

“Oh? Not a lover then, and you wouldn’t be hiding a friend this fiercely,”

Tellur took a step back, his back talon clicking against the floor. Fuck, fuck fuck fuck.

A figure poked their head in the hallway, short blue hair, with orange front bangs. He looked older than his mother, but men often did. With the same nose and jaw he saw in the mirror. His eyes were different though, a molten gold with flecks of green. He was definitely taller than his mother, with a black outfit that made him look important. Some kind of uniform? There was a mask clipped to his belt, ceramic instead of the cloth veil he was accustomed to.

Tellur knew, that in the split second he memorized the figure, that the same was being done to him. He was too slow to act, too rooted in habit. He never had an opponent that was the same as him.

A hand pulled his uncle away, and there was a hissed warning that made even Tellur’s hair raise.

“Do not go near him,”

“A kid?” the man’s voice devolved into a harsh whisper, and he had to strain his ears to listen. “I knew you were hiding something, but a fledgling? Ichika,”

“Don’t give me that,” his mother muttered back, “you know exactly what would happen if father saw him,”

Uh, what? Should he just step out? He’s already been seen?

Tellur walked slowly, peering out of the hallway. The two of them were glaring at each other, and he could definitely see the family resemblance.

“Where’s that heathen you-” the man looked at him, and Tellur froze. Hiroki cleared his throat, “where’s his father?”

His mother looked more irritated, sending Tellur a quick glance as well, “I don’t see how that’s any of your business,”

Then Hiroki laughed, “I told you, I told you that he was no good,”

“Excuse me,” Tellur stepped out fully, looking up at both of them as they went silent, “but what the fuck is going on,”

They both looked at eachother, then back at him. He really didn’t like being excluded from this silent conversation, so he stood up higher on the tips of his talons and glared at them.

Hiroki burst into laughter, and his mom hid a smile. So maybe not as much bad blood as he assumed. He’s never had siblings, but he’s not sure if not seeing them for over fourteen years was normal.

“You raised a fighter I see,” Hiroki ruffled his hair, and the only reason he didn’t bite him was because he had yet to actually style it, with how early in the morning it was. “I won’t tell daddy dearest about your little secret, but he is expecting a family meeting soon. It’s up to you how he’ll find out,”

His mom looked calm, but he could see the way her eyes hardened. She was worried, and he didn’t have enough information to help.

“Uncle Hiroki,” Tellur stepped forward, looking over him with a considering eye, “why is this the first time you’ve visited?”

He seemed surprised, and honestly Tellur was a bit surprised too, he wanted to ask something about what everything meant, about what his role was in this.

Hiroki looked at his mother with a mocking smile, which Tellur didn’t like. He didn’t know how much of it was sibling banter, and which bits he should get angry about, “your mom requested solitude, I can see why now.” Solitude? He didn’t understand, it seemed like with Hiroki there were hidden customs that Tellur was just expected to know. “Stay safe squirt, Ichika,”

Hiroki walked to the door, spreading his wings and about to take off before his mother stopped him, “wait, Hiroki. Come by again soon,”

“What do you take me for sis?” the man smiled, shaking out his feathers. A dark blue instead of the bright blue and orange of Tellur’s and his mothers, “I have a nephew to spoil after all,”

Then he launched into the sky, flying away.

… Hiroki’s wings didn’t have membranes, not like Tellur’s did. The bone structure was most definitely that of a bird, not the strange bat bird hybrid of his own. Weird, he definitely needed to ask Balam sensei about that, but first.

“Mom?” he asked, voice quiet, “can I see your wings?”

“Why?” she asked, hesitantly exposing her wing and extending it. It didn’t have a membrane either.

Oh, their wings weren’t as alike as he used to think.

“Thank you, that’s all I need,”

~

He flew back to school in a contemplative mood, thinking over everything. There was so much going on, he needed to make a thank you gift, talk to Balam-sensei, figure out his weird family business, get Kalego-sensei to provide him with the location of a dragonfruit harvest center(if he even knew one), and keep up with his assignments.

Maybe it didn’t actually seem like a lot, but it definitely felt like a lot. Hiroki was weird and important looking, and the small mannerisms reminded him of Kalego-sensei in a sense. So he should pick up a few more books on etiquette just in case.

Ugh, he needs to interrogate his mother when he goes back home next weekend. What isn’t she telling him?

~

When classes were over, Tellur found himself standing in front of the teacher’s prep room. His thoughts a weird sort of blankness that always came when he was gathering information.

He could sense the teacher’s signature in the room, but for some reason he was… hesitating.

No, no it didn’t matter. He just needed to ask his question and get over it.

Tellur knocked on the door, smiling widely when Balam-sensei opened it.

“Sensei! I need to ask you a question,” The door was already being held open to allow him in, which was nice. Maybe his antsy energy was leaking out, or Balam-sensei didn’t feel the need to see who it was after so many visits.

“Come in, do you want tea?” Tellur sat in one of the chairs, swinging his feet idly.

“No thank you, I won’t be here long,” and he didn’t like tea anyways, although the blends Balam-sensei had weren’t the worst.

The teacher sat in the chair in front of Tellur, tilting his head, “what’s your question?”

“Oh yeah,” he unsheathed one wing, stretching it out flat, “why do my wings have membrane’s when my mom’s don’t?”

Balam-sensei gave him an intriguing glance, and Tellur found himself mimicking the teacher’s head tilt, “that’s because your other parent likely had membraned wings, though it could also be the result of a generation skip. Do you know your other parent?”

“No, I don’t,” he folded his wing again, hiding it in his roots, “thank you sensei, I was just wondering,” Tellur stood up, bowing and stepping to the door.

“Of course, have a good day Izayoi,”

It was only once he was in the hallway that he let his mind wander, that was a simple answer. His father just had different wings.

… He’s not sure how much information he can get on that.

~

The week passed slowly, most of his free time spent brainstorming ideas in his dorm. He’d brought a few etiquette books back as well, politely declining Jazz’s invitation to hang out to better focus on studying.

Tellur wasn’t stupid, and while some may call him paranoid, he preferred to call himself well prepared.

Which was the reason he holed himself up in his room, looking over a book of bloodlines carefully. Whatever this ‘family meeting’ would entail, he would be ready.

He started at the end of the ‘I’ section, scanning over the page for ‘Izayoi’ so he could be directed to a different book. The self updating feature of the book made it really fucking long, so when he had read through all of the ‘I’ section and still not found ‘Izayoi’, he thought he just missed it.

The fifth read through had him doubting himself even more, the seventh made him anxious. It was on the tenth that he closed the book with a growl, sliding it across the table and wincing when he heard it thump on the floor.

Tellur quickly got up, grabbing the book and dusting it off to make sure it wasn’t damaged. The only reason he was even allowed to take these out of the library was because he was part of the battler.

No trace, not a single mention of an ‘Izayoi’ in that stupid book. His frustration was building, and he forced himself to calm down. He needed to be gentle with books, which meant returning them before he could damage anything.

It didn’t stop him from wanting to tear it to shreds.

~

“Tellur, hey,” Jazz ruffled his hair, which had him sending an annoyed glare towards the taller demon, “I got new nail polish, do you wanna hang out tonight so I can do your nails?”

“No, I’m busy. Sorry,” he muttered, pushing Jazz’s hand away.

The other demon frowned, pulling his hand to his chest. Tellur ignored the worried look on his face. “Okay, see ya then,”

~

When he returned to his house for the weekend, Hiroki was already there. Speaking with his mother in a hushed argument that was quickly silenced once he drew near.

“What are you doing here?” Tellur asked, turning the corner to find a black board set up along the wall, “what the fuck?”

“Language,” his mom chided him, motioning for him to sit down, “Hiroki will be preparing you for meeting the rest of the family,”

Huh?

“What does that even mean?” he sat on a bean bag, crossing his arms with a frown.

“It means that your mother has been slacking on your education,” Tellur felt himself bristle as Hiroki spoke, and narrowly avoided growling at the man, “so I’ll be taking over, as an Igari your etiquette is very important, especially when talking to your grandfather,”

He sent his mother a curious glance, but she looked away.

“... My last name’s Izayoi,”

“Excuse me?”

He steeled his expression, “my last name is Izayoi, not Igari,” at least that explained why he couldn’t find anything.

Hiroki sent a glare at his mother, which she ignored in a way that spoke of practice. “No, your last name is Igari. You are Tellur Igari,”

Fuck, this guy was annoying.

“Sure, whatever you say,” he sighed, leaning on his hand, “Igari, Izayoi. Basically the same,”

His uncle took the snarky compliance with a glare, tapping the blackboard with a chalk pencil, “I will be teaching you etiquette and family history, as well as other things I find you lacking in. So shut up and listen up,” rude, but not in a scary way. He felt like he could argue with him and no consequences would come of it.

“The Igari’s are proud, and many great military battles have been won because of our correspondence. We are invaluable assets, remember that. The information you gather with our bloodline ability is powerful, and not to be taken lightly,”

~

By the time Hiroki had left, he’d learned more about his family’s military conquests than he’d ever wanted to know. Tellur was handed a list of books to study, and a stack of assignments to complete after said studying.

Good to know teaching methods ran in the family.

~

Purson approached him as he was leaving the library, the books he needed stacked high in his arms.

“Do you have any baking projects you need help with? I’m free all week because my dad is out for a little while. And I wanted to share my observations to compare with yours, did you see Agares-kun and Gaap-kun keep arriving and leaving together?”

“Sorry, I’m busy,” Tellur hefted up the books in his arms, “I heard Jazz got a new nail polish though. He seemed eager to try it out,”

“Oh,” Purson looked disappointed, which made an ugly feeling stir in Tellur’s gut, “alright, I’ll ask him,”

“Have fun,”

~

Looking through the bloodline book again, he easily found Igari. The blurb under it directed him to one of the books Hiroki had already suggested, which made the whole thing feel like a waste of time.

He still completed the assignment to the best of his abilities, he won’t be caught half-assing this.

~

Jazz and Purson kept shooting each other worried looks whenever they thought Tellur wasn’t looking, which was ridiculous for two reasons. One, he was always looking, he had long since mastered the ‘looking without looking’ to avoid awkward conversations. And two, he was fine.

They were also being weirdly touchy. He enjoyed it, the hugs and shoulder pats, but most demons had little need for touch. Excusing gargoyles and harpies, demons that flock tended to be more physically affectionate.

Which brings him back to his original point, he doesn’t know why they’re worried, and if he doesn’t figure it out soon he’s going to go insane.

It was when he had to squirm out of a side hug initiated by Purson of all people that he’d had enough.

“Right, what’s going on?” Purson looked away innocently as Tellur spoke, which made him narrow his eyes, “you’ve both been acting weird,”

“How have we been acting weird?” Jazz asked, sneaking another snack into his pocket that he had to bat away with an eye twitch.

“Did I do something to worry you?” he ignored Jazz’s question, as it was irritating and he had no time for it.

The two of them shared a look again, which made him feel like biting something, or someone. He eyed the still hovering hand of Jazz consideringly, before mentally reprimanding himself.

“... You’ve just been more distant, you never decline invitations, but you haven’t hung out with either of us. And you’re always holed up in the library or your dorm, you didn’t even talk about the Kuromu concert with everyone else,” Purson stared at him, trying to decode him. Tellur didn’t know what emotion that dredged up, but the attention was making his heart feel warm.

He didn’t mean to be distant, “I’m just busy,” he looked away, staring at his hands.

“With what? Can we help?” Purson put a hand on his shoulder, leaning down so he was eye level, “does it have something to do with all those books you’ve been bringing up to your dorm?”

“We can bring books to our dorm?” Jazz asked, tilting his head towards Tellur.

“Battler members can,” he muttered, anxiously stretching his hands. He still had to finish one of the assignments Hiroki gave him, “or if a battler member vouches for you. I can vouch for you,”

“Nice, and while you’re doing that we can hang out,” Jazz picked him up, arms wrapping around Tellur’s chest and holding him like an oversized stuffed animal.

“I’m busy,” he grumbled, but didn’t fight the hold, “what about that do you two not understand?”

“The part where that makes you not want to hang out,” Purson stated, following after Jazz, “you can do your work while we’re hanging out,”

Their concern made him feel… warm. His face heating up as he grumbled.

“Fine, I guess,”

Purson grinned, and he could feel a swell of pride that was definitely not his own. Though whether it was Purson’s or Jazz’s he couldn’t tell.

Tellur basked in the feeling, relaxing into the arms holding him.

~

His dorm was a bit of a mess, which thankfully Jazz and Purson didn’t comment on. Books were left open on the table, with Hiroki’s assignments organized in piles of done, working on it, and haven’t touched it.

Jazz wasted no time in getting comfortable on his couch, Purson sitting on the other side. Which left Tellur with the perfect position of being able to sit in the middle.

“So what is it that you’re so busy with?” Jazz asked, glancing over at the table, “those don’t look like any of our assignments,”

He sighed, pulling his knees to his chest and crossing his arms over them, “I met my uncle recently, and apparently he deemed my education ‘lacking’,” Purson patted his shoulder consolingly, and Tellur leaned into the touch, “I’m just so confused, no family visits for my entire life, then when I finally do meet one he’s all weird and keeps on emphasizing etiquette and knowing my family history,”

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and letting his friends’ mana swirl around him. Relaxing into Jazz’s side.

“Didn’t you say you hardly knew anything about that?” Purson asked, entwining their hands.

“Yeah, mom never told me about it,” how much should he tell them? He didn’t know most of it himself. He’ll wait until he has more info, but for now, “... do either of you know what a reincarnate is?”

“No,” Jazz shook his head and looked to Purson, “you?”

“No.”

“Well, it’s basically,” how does he explain this? “Blushenko-sensei explained it as me remembering my past life, with a side of having visions of the future,”

“Oh,” Purson nodded, “that makes sense. Is that why you fell flat on your face after class that one time?”

He flushed, ducking his head, “... maybe. It’s distracting,”

“Is that also why you’re always glaring at Marbas-sensei?” Jazz smiled, resting a hand on his head, “does he do something?”

“That’s more just bad vibes,” he muttered, putting his feet back on the ground and standing up, “anyways, I do actually need to finish the homework my uncle gave me,”

Jazz groaned, standing up and following him, “orrrr, you could just stay with us and we can watch a movie, or I could do your nails?”

“I’d also like to have our gossip time,” Purson sat up straight, watching them over the couch, “I have a new theory I think you’ll like,”

Tellur grabbed one of the packets, bringing it back to the couch while Jazz tried to snatch it away, “we can talk while I work,”

“I’m surprised you haven’t entered an evil cycle with this workload,” Jazz grumbled, sitting beside him and looking over his shoulder, “why the focus on the Igaris?”

Tellur sat up straighter, looking up at him in surprise, “what do you know about them?”

Apparently his enthusiasm caught the taller demon off guard, as he resettled before starting to explain “not much, they’re a secretive bunch. Lots of high ranking demons though, my big bro’s scared of them. He changes the story of why every time I ask him,”

“Probably because of their tracking prowess, my father says they’re like bloodhounds,” Purson spoke up, “he was sniffed out immediately when he tried to sneak into a meeting. Which is weird considering he’s the best at our ability that I know, except for my brother, but I haven’t seen him in a while so he doesn’t count. Only demon border control know their abilities, and even then only the higher ups,”

Huh, so they were infamous. Though he could also be getting very biased reviews, coming from a thief and a spy. Yeah, probably biased. Who else could he ask about this? Asmodeous probably knew, and Keroli. He could ask Kalego-sensei, but he already has to ask a favor from him. Too many and he’d be risking extra homework.

“Why’s your uncle giving you assignments on them?” Purson also looked over at the paper he was filling out, “it’s a bit of a weird topic,”

Tellur shrugged, playing ignorant, “he’s just weird,”

The two shared a look again, but dropped it. They were definitely onto him, or at least onto the suspiciousness.

“Maybe he’s from a branch family,” Purson suggested with a shrug.

“Maybe,” he muttered, focusing on filling out questions.

~

The weekend came around, and Hiroki smugly asked about the assignments.

The gobsmacked look he had when Tellur dropped the stack of finished assignments in front of him was worth the cramming.

“... I guess you’re not as unmotivated as I thought,”

“Damn right,”

~

“Mom?” Tellur walked into the dining room, serving himself a plate of savory buns, “why didn’t you tell me about any of this?”

She looked away for a moment, before looking back at him, “... It’s a lot for a child to handle, I thought I had more time to prepare you.”

“Oh,”

~

Sadly Hiroki had a whole new stack of assignments ready for him the next day, along with a porcelain mask. Similar to the one strapped on Hiroki's belt.

It was blank, with no eye holes or straps. Just a shiny, white, oval.

He blinked at it, and wasn't quite sure why he was expecting it to blink back.

“Go ahead, try it on,” his uncle nudged the porcelain in his hands, so Tellur brought it up to his face cautiously. Only taking his hand away when he was sure it would not fall. Nice and secure, he definitely needed the spell for that.

His vision was fine the moment it latched on fully, possibly better, with a range of colors added to the mana he could already sense. It was a little like he was seeing through the mask, breathing through it too. Though that was a bit of a stretch. He was breathing like the mask wasn't there at all, no echoey huffs ringing in his ears.

“Wear this with pride, but don't let a single person outside our family know you have it. This is what marks you as an Igari,” a hand ruffled his hair, and he looked up to see Hiroki smiling at him, “customize it, make sure it resonates with you.”

He nodded, reaching up and peeling the mask off his face, “I will,”

He already had an idea in mind after all.

“Good, now get. I need to speak with your mother,”

Tellur groaned, walking away. There was no chance of being able to eavesdrop with that tone of voice. Gross.

~

Tellur was reading in the hallway, walking to his next class with a new book on mana concealment techniques open when he narrowly avoided the Zom speeding his way.

He ignored the other student, sensing Shaoron catching up as he bookmarked his page.

“Yo! Wait up!” Shaoron threw an arm over his shoulders, “did you get taller? Never mind, I got your answers!”

He perked up, tilting his head towards the other demon, “what did he say?”

“He said he likes dragonfruit, but also sinnamon tea blends and spiced cider,” wow, that was actually really helpful. Maybe he wouldn't need to go to Kalego-sensei for anything.

“Thank you,” he smiled, “this is really helpful,”

Zom jumped on him, making him stumble, but Tellur held his ground.

“You should come play with us! We can play hot bomb! I have one now!” Hm, not his problem. Zom handed him a bomb, which he quickly passed off to Shaoron.

“Sorry, I'm a bit late for class.” Something that was only made true because of those two, “I can after school though,”

“Take it back! Take it!”

Zom lit up, ignoring the panicked yells of Shaoron, “really?!”

“Sure, why not,” Tellur made sure he had everything, then continued on his way again, “bye,”

He heard an explosion when he turned the corner, which made him walk slightly faster.

~

Purson looked through the assignments on Tellur’s table as he kneaded the dough. Tellur couldn’t do much about it at the moment, because, sticky, doughy hands.

“Why are you looking through that?”

“Am I not allowed to snoop?” Purson flipped the page, very much not getting the hint, “I’m just interested in what extra assignments your uncle assigned you, there’s so much emphasis on etiquette and proper form. It looks like what I used to have to do when I was younger, except dialed up to fifty. Seriously, and then again with the weird fixation on the Igari’s- Tellur?”

“Yes?” he didn’t look up from the dough,shaping it into balls to rest.

“What did you say your uncle’s last name was?”

“Uh, I didn’t say anything actually.”

“Does it happen to be Ig-”

“Let’s shut up now, before someone says something confidential that they regret,”

“... good idea,”

“But while we’re on the topic,” Tellur set a rag over the bowl of dough, looking up at Purson, “can you help me with the dance section? I’m not really getting it,” and he took dance classes in his past life dammit! Damn chicken feet.

“... yeah. Yeah, I can help,” the other demon still seemed a bit dazed, “an Igari, that's cool. You can give me so much insider gossip,”

“Let’s just not tell my uncle that you figured it out,” he muttered, wiping his hands on his pants to clear the flour debris before checking the dance steps, “it doesn’t even have any music to go with it, is it a ‘one waltz fits all’ dance?”

“That’s exactly what it is,”

Purson took his wrists, and Tellur did the same. One linked set of arms closer and one farther, Tellur kept his eyes on the floor as they started moving, not wanting to step on Purson’s toes. There was plenty of space between their feet, likely because of the chicken feet of those that made the dance, but he still wanted to be careful.

“You won’t trip, and if you do I’ll catch you,” Purson was smiling when he looked back up, and Tellur relaxed slightly.

“Look at you, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you were romantic,” he smiled back, putting his focus into remembering the steps instead of watching his feet.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugged, glancing at the wall, “nothing,”

~

Later that night, after Purson had left, he dialed his uncle’s number.

“Uncle Hiroki,” Tellur thumbed over the ceramic of his mask, “if I broke the mask and put it together again, would the magic on it stop working?”

“It shouldn’t, but if it does let me know and I’ll fix it,”

“Right, thanks, bye,” he hung up, not giving the demon a chance to respond.

Well that was good to know.

~

[Iruma.] Tellur had absolutely had it with taste testing his apple filling, almost ready to swear off the fruit for eternity, [come be my taste tester.]

It was fifteen minutes when he got a response, after the latest apple filling had already set in a way that was much too runny for what he wanted.

[sorry! I cant >.< the student council is really strict about schedules!]

Well that was inconvenient. Tellur frowned at his phone, he hadn’t hung out with Iruma in a bit, and he’d really wanted to check up on the human.

[That’s alright, I’ll save you some of the finished product.] he could always ask Jazz.

[Thank you!!! (>w<)!!!!]

Hold on, student council? When did that happen?

Nevermind, he doesn’t actually care all that much at the moment, but he’s going to stab somebody if his filling is runny again.

~

“Tellur!” Zom threw himself at him, and Tellur didn’t care enough to dodge. He was tall enough now that he wouldn’t be bowled over.

“Hey Zom,” he checked himself for bombs when the other student pulled away, tossing the one on his back straight back to the hooded demon. “Good to see you, donut?”

“Sure!” it had no filling, but that didn’t seem to deter him, “sweet!”

Tellur frowned thoughtfully, maybe it would be too sweet with all the sugar the filling would provide, should he tone down the sugar in the dough?

“Hey hey hey!” Zom grabbed his wrist, pulling him along, “Let's play tag! You have to hold this!”

A snap bracelet was administered to his wrist, a timed bomb attached to it. He didn’t know what he expected, but that probably should’ve been it.

Zom raced away, and Tellur calmly undid the bracelet before jolting after him, diving for the other student and slapping the bracelet on his upper arm.

It continued like this until they were both panting on the ground, at which they called it a draw and threw the bomb somewhere to be someone else's problem.

~

He had done it, the filling was finally at a creme texture, easily pipable and holding up in the donut without leaking.

It only took him…

How long had he been in his dorm?

A quick glance at his schedule showed a red, angry, ‘four days missed!!’ which meant it was saturday…

Fuck.

Tellur scrambled to open his phone, wincing at the number of missed calls from his mother.

“Mom,” he said after dialing in her number, “before you ask I’m fine-”

“Where are you?!” ooh, that tone of voice was not good, “are you sure you’re fine?! Hiroki’s here, are you not home because you didn’t want to see him? If that's the case then I’ll boot him right out I swear-”

“No! No, it’s not that. I just lost track of time, I’m really sorry. I was stuck on a baking project, I’ll bring some home,” he tapped his claws on the phone, “along with the homework uncle Hiroki assigned,”

“Okay, okay,” she sounded relieved, and more calm, “I love you, start heading here now okay?”

“Okay, I love you too,” Tellur started gathering his stuff, gently shoving it in his bag, “I’ll be there in… seems like an hour,”

“Stay safe,”

“I will,”

He let out a sigh when his mother hung up, boxing up four donuts and throwing his bag over his shoulder. Double checking that he had everything before heading out, making sure to avoid Jazz so he didn’t have to deal with any conversations.

The flight over was long, but then again it was always long. The path his mother picked out was mostly free of magical beasts, and the ones he did run into occasionally were easy to deal with. So all he really had to entertain himself with was the loops and obstacles he could dive through, but even that got boring after thirty minutes. He occupied himself with his sketchbook for the next thirty minutes, keeping an eye on his surroundings.

The stares felt suffocating, emotionless masks gazing through him as he walked to the center of the room. He knelt on the ground, the stone brick hurting his knees.

“Grandfather, it’s a pleasure to meet you,”

Silence filled the room, and a masked figure a bit taller than Tellur fidgeted nervously off to the side. There were eight people in the room, counting him. All of them masked. The designs varied greatly, but the base stayed the same white ceramic.

“What-

He was falling, tumbling through the air until he finally got the sense to snap open his wings. Meaning that his impromptu landing was mostly injury free, if still painful.

“Oh fuck,” he hissed, shaking out his wings. “That sucked. My goddamn donuts,”

Whatever, he still needed to get home, no matter the state of the sweet bread. Tellur took a few deep breaths, calming himself down before the irritation went further than surface level. There was no time for that.

~

“You’re hurt!” His mom was quick to look him over, only calming down once she saw that the scratches were shallow, “how did this happen?”

“Let the kid breathe Ichika,” Hiroki put a hand on her shoulder.

“I just fell,” he muttered, embarrassed, “the donuts got smushed,”

“That’s fine,” she pulled him into a hug, which he happily melted into, “how did you fall?”

“Vision,” he said tiredly, hiding his face, “happened while I was flying, it wasn’t very informative,”

“Sorry,” Hiroki stepped forward, and before he could continue Tellur cut in.

“You should be,”

“What did I do?”

Tellur just shrugged, leading Hiroki to continue.

“Anyways, visions? Who wants to explain?”

He snickered, shaking his head minutely so his mother would catch his bit.

“I don’t think anyone does,”

~

“Now tell me what your design idea is,” Hiroki stood with his arms crossed, though he wasn’t very intimidating. That was a little hard to achieve when Tellur saw his mother put him in a headlock.

He lifted up the porcelain mask, then dropped it on the ground. It didn’t even crack, and Hiroki gave him an unimpressed look.

“That went well for you didn’t it,”

“Shut up. How do I break it?” Tellur picked it up again, studying the material with a new eye.

“You’re getting rude aren’t you?” Hiroki stepped forward, taking the mask from him.

“What can I say? You’re a bad influence,”

“Brat,” the demon brushed his hand over the mask, then let it drop. This time, it shattered into five main pieces, with a plethora of smaller shards, “is that what you wanted?”

He nodded, settling on the floor and starting the process of painting plaster on the edges. Hiroki joined him on the floor shortly after.

“What are you doing that for?”

“Jeez, you’re like a younger sibling,” he muttered, not looking up from the shards, “full offense by the way,”

“You’re just like Ichika, she’s a little shit like you,” Hiroki passed him another shard when Tellur finished with the first one, “bullied me constantly when we were younger,”

“I’m starting to think you deserved it,”

“Ouch,”

~

When Tellur got back to school he was quick to prepare another box of filled donuts, these were for Iruma, then after school he’d bring another box to Blushenko-sensei.

The plan went awry the moment Iruma stepped into their homeroom.

“Oh my god the student council made him emo,” he muttered, ignoring the stifled laughter of Purson beside him.

The humans whole vibe had changed, his hair done in a different manner with his jacket simply laying over his shoulders. Cool.

“Iruma!” He smiled, walking forward and holding out the box of donuts. Clara looked interested at it, and even Asmodeus gave it an intrigued eye, “these are for you, they’re donuts with spiced cider filling,”

“Hm,” Iruma opened the box, picking up a donut and taking a bite, “it’s good,”

Tellur smiled widely, ducking his head and leaving the box with him. Clara and Asmodeus quickly jumping on the opportunity to try one. Well, Clara jumped on the opportunity, Asmodeus elegantly grabbed one.

He sat back by Purson, “he’s definitely on his evil cycle,”

“Oh definitely,”

~

Iruma was more confident, ordering around Asmodeus and Clara like he was an actual demon. And Tellur needed to draw him. There was no possible way he wouldn’t.

The way he looked with the fire burning behind him was beautiful, lighting up his face in a flare of red and orange.

Tellur curled his hands into fists, putting his jacket sleeve over his mouth and nose to block out the smell. Everyone’s eyes were on the human, including his. The fire continued to burn as strongly as when it was first cast.

“I don’t like it. This is our class, our territory.” Iruma didn’t look back at them, staring into the flames, “rank is everything to a demon. We have a lot of high ranking demons in this class, but we’re being treated like this. They’re just disrespecting us,” He’s going to make Iruma so many sweets for this, the Royal One will be the ultimate upgrade.

“I’ve decided.” The human finally turned to look at them, with a grin that Tellur wanted etched into his paper forever, “We’re moving out of this shack, and into the castle.”

~

The class moved like a unit, following after Iruma in amusement and awe. The corridors went silent when the human passed, before quickly breaking into whispers.

The faculty room was just far enough away for word to spread, and Tellur just knew this would be the talk of the school for a while.

Iruma walked into the faculty room and everyone else followed behind him with little hesitation. The human sitting across from Kalego-sensei confidently, smiling as he spoke.

“The Misfit Class demands a new classroom,”

“... you can’t be serious,” Kalego’s expression darkened, and Tellur itched for his sketchbook. But no, he had to stay professional and cold looking. Frantically drawing the people around him was neither. “Marching in here all of a sudden and making a criminal demand like that. And what's with the new attitude…”

“Until now I’ve been too unworldly,” was that a reference to his humanism? That was bold. “As you must know Kalego-sensei, our classroom is absolutely awful! Furnishing an environment beneficial to earning is the schools responsibility, is it not?”

With each word, Kalego-sensei looked even more irritated, massaging his temple for what was clearly a headache. Tellur had to stop himself from smiling, shoving down his schadenfreude. For this to work the teacher needed to give them a somewhat reasonable demand.

“And why have we been sectioned off anyways?! What exactly makes us misfits?!”

Kalego-sensei opened his journal, flipping through it, “Iruma, said a forbidden spell during the entrance ceremony and had a brawl with another student in the same day. Accomplice, Asmodeus Alice. Sabnock Sabro, assaulted a teacher, destruction of property. Andro M. Jazz, theft from students and teachers,”

There were a few muttered comments from his classmates, which were quickly bulldozed over.

“Crocell Keroli, well, you haven’t actually done anything.” The girl in question hid her face, “Shax Lied, sent six students he was gaming with to the infirmary. Izayoi Tellur, sent two students to the infirmary.”

“I don’t remember that,” he muttered, tilting his head.

“Caim Camui, sexual harassment of students and teachers. Valac is Valac.” Kalego closed the journal, “furthermore, damaging personal property, trespassing in dangerous areas, possession of illegal substances. In the short time between the entrance ceremony and class assignments, numerous such incidents occurred. Is that enough for you?”

There was a considering pause before Iruma raised his voice, “WHAT ABOUT ANY OF THAT MAKES US ABNORMAL?!”

“EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU IS ABNORMAL!”

Iruma sat back down with a huff, “Fine, you’ve proven your point. Clara, map.”

“Okey dokey,” Tellur started grinning in anticipation as Iruma explained the cons of their classroom. He’s going to make so many sweets in celebration once they win this thing.

“There’s nothing we can do about it,” oh? He leaned forward, watching the expression on his teacher’s face, it seemed like he hated the classroom as much as they did. “There are no other classrooms isolated from the rest,”

“But, there are, right?” Iruma smiled innocently, “Unseal the Royal One,”

Tellur watched Kalego seethe, his eyes narrowing.

“It’s close to the gate and the first year tower, and more importantly, it’s prestige and-”

Cerberus was summoned in a crackle of electricity, snarling at the human. Woah, cool. He brought out his sketchbook, ignoring his previous hesitation. He needed to draw this, he doubts there would be another opportunity. The air around it warped with the sparks, its very form seeming composed of the teacher's determination. Was it an extension of his mana? Tellur knew the thing was soaked in it, but he wasn’t exactly sure how it worked.

“That place is the pride of our school. The likes of you using it? Know your place.” The teacher glared down at them, but Iruma just seemed more motivated. Which was so ballsy that he found himself buzzing with anticipation. Or the ambient electricity in the room.

“The likes of you?” The human put one foot on the table, allowing him to look down at the teacher. “Then we’ll prove it to you, that students like us deserve to use the Royal One.” Tellur could feel the excess mana rolling off of him in waves, shadowy black wings spreading out behind Iruma. A glance at his classmates showed they could also feel it, “We’ll get approval from the majority of Babyls faculty in less than two weeks. What do you say?”

“The approval of all faculty members, in three days.” his expression was serious, “If you wish to meddle with the relics of the king, you must accept a challenge of that level-”

Iruma slapped his hand, solidifying the deal, “kay! Condition accepted. Don’t go back on your promise sensei!”

The human strolled away with a ‘see ya’, the rest of the class following after him in a similar fashion. Scaring off the eavesdroppers with a smile.

It wasn’t until they were far enough from the room that they started talking again. Expressing their doubts. Which Iruma quickly corrected.

This was going to happen, and he was going to help to the best of his ability.

Chapter Text

Blushenko walked down the hallway, going through different reports as he did. Time wasted was time lost after all.

“I don’t see why we can’t just ask him, if he’s who the gift is for then wouldn’t it be easier?” Ah, Shaoron. What trouble is he getting up to?

“No, we can’t ask him because it’s a surprise. If we ask him then he’ll know,” and there was Bombe Zom, this wasn’t looking to be a good interaction.

He turned the corner, watching as Izayoi spoke, “exactly, if he figures it out beforehand that’d ruin the surprise. You can ask him on your own and report back to me,”

Blushenko proceeded to turn around, walking back down the hall he came from. That was a future him headache, but for now he didn’t want to deal with his three most troublesome students.

Sukima

“Have you seen Tellur lately?” Jazz frowned in concern, “he hasn’t been showing up to school,”

“He’s in his dorm,” Purson shoved another pretzel stick in his mouth bitterly, “he hissed at me when I went in,”

“... Is he alright?”

“Seemed fine,”

Sukima

“Ugghhhhhhhh,” Tellur rested his head in his hands, “there’s so many battlers to choose from,”

“What are you thinking about?” Purson asked, leaning forward a bit as Kalego walked through the halls to check on different students.

“Library, New Magic, and Diabotany,” he let the back of his head hit the chair, “it’d be nice if there was a Top Dog battler or something, something that'd have a lot of different- OWWWWW!” a hand started squeezing his head like an orange, and suddenly he saw his teacher glaring down at him, “OWW! I CONCEDE!”

Chapter Text

Iruma took them to the Royal One, standing in front of the locked up door. Seriously, why the fuck was the door so big? Derkila was not that big, though it made sense from a drama standpoint.

Tellur’s already seen it once or twice, tried sneaking in once only for the wards on it to shock him. But from the mutterings of his peers, that wasn’t common.

“I need everyone who voted for Ronove in the student council’s election to raise their hand,” Huh? When the fuck did an election happen? He didn’t even realize the student council was a democracy, he assumed it was an autocratic oligarchy.

The people around him raised their hands, and when he looked to Jazz for context the taller demon just shrugged with his hand in the air. It was entirely unhelpful. Looking to Purson had a worse result, as he wasn’t even visible. Damn him and his weird crush on Iruma.

Iruma laughed lightly, gesturing to the ones who still had their hands down, “and you guys?”

“A gentleman always puts ladies first!”

“Why would I vote to put someone else in power?”

“I was sleeping,”

“There was an election?”

Iruma grinned, “yes, you all prefer having fun, you’re faithful to only your desires. And you take pride in being seen as different,” he’s still wondering what the fuck happened while he was baking, “those dangerous demons drowning in their own desires, are perfect candidates to return to origins,”

His spine straightened minutely, and he watched Iruma closely.

“The Royal One should interest you all shouldn’t it? A place sealed for centuries, holding treasures of untold value, sacred and the pride of this school. With you, demons who couldn’t care less about all of that being the ones to use it!”

The spike of excitement Tellur felt coursing through him left him clenching his fists. It wasn’t his, and maybe that’s why he felt so invigorated by it.

~

They were split into groups, kinda. Most of them were individually assigned to teachers. Tellur was assigned to Balam-sensei.

So it would be a piece of cake. He’s already started noting different diagrams in another notebook, it wasn’t complete, far from it. He had been planning it as a later gift, but it would be something much too tempting for the teacher to ignore.

So it was with confidence that he knocked on the prep room door, holding the permission slip securely in one hand with the new notebook in another. The runes on it weren’t even done, but still.

“Ah, Izayoi,” Balam allowed him into the room, eyes catching on the permission slip, “I was wondering when I would see you, would you like some tea?”

…this could turn into a long discussion, “yes please,” he padded over to his normal seat, setting the permission slip on the counter.

He had some time to think as Balam-sensei made the tea, opening the notebook and flipping through it gently. There were a few ways this interaction could go, but he’s decently sure he’ll be able to convince the teacher without many problems. He doesn’t know if Balam-sensei is aware of his situation, but he definitely has to thank his AP bio classes for finally being useful.

A steaming wooden cup was held in front of him until he took it, and Tellur looked up with a ‘thank you’.

“I’m going to be blunt,” he took in a breath, “would you please sign this?”

He reached for the permission slip, holding it out. The teacher hummed, eyes crinkling.

“I might, but I’m also curious,” Balam leaned forward slightly, his hair creating a curtain. Tellur’s hands twitched for his actual sketchbook, “because I know you like deals, what do you have to offer?”

He felt his lips twitching up into a grin, watching the other’s eyes as he grabbed the notebook. “Are you aware of my status as a reincarnate sensei?”

The teacher nodded, and Tellur opened the book to one of the more fleshed out diagrams. This one of simple flower examples, dictating the different parts with different drawings in harder to determine cases. He took great pride in seeing Balam-sensei’s eyes widen, and pulled it back easily when he saw the other’s hands twitching. It was probably a gargoyle thing, but they both had similar tells when they wanted something. Maybe it was from them both being a very touch centered subspecies.

“This?” he held up the book in question, “Isn’t done yet, won’t be done for a while. But I am very happy to have some discussions about the contents if you’ll give us your stamp,”

There was a moment when Balam’s eyes went from the book to the slip of paper, before he summoned his stamp and pressed the ink to it. He’s gotta learn how to do that, was it a spell cast on the item itself? Or was it something that could be used for everything. Probably cast on the item, he once saw the teacher lose a pencil he set in a book. Would’ve been a real useful scenario for it.

“Are thursdays okay with you?” Balam-sensei asked, collecting the still full cup of tea from him.

He nodded, grinning widely as he picked up the permission slip, “Yes! Thank you sensei!”

~

After that, he was delegated to helping collect stamps from the easier to convince teachers. Iruma debated on sending him for Blushenko-sensei as well, but Tellur was well aware that the teacher more so tolerated him than liked him.

He used the lunch break to go around asking for the other faculty members, getting a good ten signatures on his way once he mentioned Iruma.

Though the human seemed confused when he showed up with more permission slips than he was sent to get.

“Where did those come from?”

He tilted his head, holding out one of the janitors stamped slips, “the other faculty? The janitors and chefs and stuff,”

His friend paled, a hand going to his mouth as he thought. “... Our deadline’s getting closer, I’m counting on you to gather as many as you can. Can you track people if you get secondhand information? Like a picture or description?”

Uhhh, “I don’t think so,” he tapped his fingers, thinking back to the pictures he saw of the thirteen crowns. Like he suspected, the only one he could track was the principal. “No, I can’t.”

Iruma let out a sigh, “that’s fine, get going. I’ll send some others out for them as well,”

He nodded with a salute, setting down the papers completely and racing out. He’ll need to grab some more permission slips.

~

It was a frantic day for him, cataloguing the people he’s gotten permission from. He’s not actually sure how many staff there were in total, but he’ll stop once he can’t find any. That isn’t even mentioning night staff, although from what he’s seen most of them tended to arrive in the late afternoon anyways. Tellur has enough time, probably, hopefully, he stays in the dorms anyways. Who needs sleep anyways?

Ha, haha, hahahaha.

Fuck, the deadline’s in a day.

He resisted the urge to rip up the paper, it wouldn’t help anyone.

~

Tellur deposited the papers in Iruma’s lap, ignoring the headache screaming to make itself known. It would only hurt more if he focused on it.

“This should be most of them,” he mumbled, then cleared his throat. Igaris weren’t to mutter, “I’m not sure on the total count, but I asked those I did find to spread the word,”

Iruma looked up at him with a grin, “great work, we got the last of the teacher’s signatures as well,” his headache seemed to fade at the praise, and he found himself smiling back.

“Just in time huh?”

“Just in time,” Iruma nodded, sorting the papers into stacks. Tellur quickly started helping, tying the formed stacks together for easier transport. After a little while everything was sorted, and he had time to breathe. Only him and Iruma were in the classroom so early, the quiet cold seeping away the pain.

It was… pleasant. Something that ate away at the weird irritation he’d been feeling recently.

His lips pulled into a grin, and he leaned back on his hands, “Kalego-sensei’s gonna be so mad,”

Iruma laughed, shaking his head, “I’m so excited,”

~

Eventually, the other students trickled in. Looking excitedly at the large stacks of papers and muttering amongst themselves. It didn’t take long for Asmodeus and Clara to bound over, picking up stacks of paper happily and chatting to Iruma. Tellur’s not needed.

It didn’t take long to get to the faculty lounge, and Kalego was already there, waiting for them at the main table. His face betrayed nothing, eyes closed and head slightly leaned back. He opened them expectantly as they came closer, eyeing the stack of paper in Iruma’s arms with an unimpressed stare.

That was, until Clara and Asmodeus stepped forward with the other two stacks.

Tellur didn’t bother trying to hide his grin, memorizing the shocked and angry expression on the teacher's face. He hasn’t seen anything close to it before, and he certainly hasn’t seen that level of outrage on the perpetually collected Kalego.

Irritation? Oh absolutely, he had practically memorized irritation, but this anger was new. He desperately wanted to draw it. The glare directed at him when he pulled out his sketchbook dashed that action before he could even start.

Iruma smugly placed the first stack of papers on the table, Asmodeus and Clara quickly following his lead.

“This should be all of them, teachers, janitors, groundskeepers. The only signature that’s missing is yours,” the demon- human, Iruma was a human, held out a permission slip, setting it in front of Kalego-sensei expectantly.

The teacher’s eyebrow twitched, and after letting out a seething breath, the slip of stamped. Eliciting a cheer from the students.

But for some weird reason, Tellur feels like he’s done something wrong somehow. He doesn’t know what it is, the Misfits always acquired the royal one, if not by getting all the permission slips, then how? Jazz nudged him with a grin, before his red eyes went wide and worried. What was he looking at-

“I don’t have a crush on him! Am I not allowed to appreciate aesthetic design?”

The black haired boy gave her an unimpressed look, “not when it’s all you talk about you can’t, like, we get it. You think he’s pretty, maybe focus on real boys instead of fictional ones,”

She gasped, putting a hand over her chest in offense, “he’s not just ‘pretty’! His design perfectly contrasts Iruma’s! Their similarities connect them together, making Iruma feel like Kirio’s someone who can be saved!”

“Right, and is this the bird or the cannibal that you’re freaking out over now?” she lobbed a nearby pillow at him, hitting him square in the face. He squawked, flailing his arms as he fell backwards onto the couch.

“They’re nothing alike! How could you even say that!” he didn’t move, so she threw another pillow. “I’m starting to doubt that you were even listening,”

He gripped the pillow tightly, rising from the couch with a grin as he readied his arm, “I wasn’t,” she barely had enough time to block her face before the pillow was sailing towards her through the air. She shrieked a laugh as more flew, ducking behind a chair and gathering the closest ones in her arms to hurl back.

He opened his eyes slowly, staring at the white ceiling of the infirmary. That was a weird vision, maybe another life in the future? Ugh, that would be so fucking convoluted if he got visions from future lives as well. Weird that they would also speak english though, but it definitely makes things a bit easier for him. He does not want to learn another language from scratch.

“Izayoi.” oof, he turned to look at Blushenko-sensei, who did not look happy to have him back here.

“Sensei,” he bowed his head, mostly to stop his irritation. Tellur didn’t want to deal with looking at the teacher’s disappointed face. It’s not like he asked to be put in the infirmary again, honestly they should’ve just left him there…

Wait, this is weird. The visions so far have only lasted at most a second, no matter how long they felt. Maybe it was because it was another life? That sounds about right, it probably used up more energy. He feels fucking exhausted, and the tiredness only grew when he looked up to see Blushenko-sensei’s lips moving. God fucking damnit, he wasn’t listening.

“-oceed to your dorm immediately, I’ll tell your allies to bring you your assignments,” what? What the fuck did he even do? Is he bitter about the Royal One? That seems stupid.

“What did I even do?” he asked, very politely like the good little noble his uncle wanted him to be. Only with more glaring, and demanding, and rude tone.

… okay maybe he wasn’t being very polite.

The unimpressed stare he was given had him shrink back a little, averting his gaze.

“I will explain again,” he hated that tone, exasperated and unyielding, “your mana fluctuations suggest you’ve entered your evil cycle. The best course of action is for you to go to your dorm and stay there until it passes. Normally I’d send you home, but due to the distance, it will be easier for you to be brought assignments if you stay here,”

His shoulders slowly relaxed, okay, he wasn’t being punished. They were just being cautious. “I’ve seen others in their evil cycle out and about though? Why do I have to stay in and they don’t?”

“Your vision was very intense earlier,” Blushenko explained easily, “it could be dangerous for you if you are in a place where you can’t easily rest if another one happens,”

“I guess that makes sense,” he grumbled, turning so his legs dangled over the side of the bed. The floor would be cold when he stepped on it, he just knew it. It always was. He really needed socks, but then if he wore them around everywhere like he wanted to they’d get dirty. And if he had to go outside it would be awkward to take his socks off.

Someone patted him on the shoulder, which was weird. Balam-sensei was really the only one who gave out physical affection like that. He only looked up when the hand was yanked back, Blushenko-sensei’s eyes widened slightly in surprise.

“What?,” Tellur glared, flexing his fingers into the mediocre texture of the sterile sheets. It was smooth, but cold. And the smooth was because of some plastic alloy mixed in instead of nice threads.

“Are you aware that you can feed off of other demon’s mana?” the fuck was that supposed to mean? Apparently this thought was conveyed easily in his expression, as the teacher continued with a fuckass statement, “I’ll speak to you more about it later, for now you should get to your dorm,”

The hand was back on his shoulder, gently but not subtly pushing him off the bed. He paid attention this time, feeling the swirl of mana seep into him. He didn’t see the ‘feeding’ that surprised Blushenko so much, sure, he found himself instinctively mixing some of the mana with his own depleted store, but it's not like-

Ohhhhhhhh, okay. Was that strange for demons? He started walking, and the hand left his shoulder. His mother always held him close after magic lessons, she had seemed ecstatic the first time he’d done it, so he’d always just thought it was another demon milestone. Maybe he should dissect his childhood, then force Jazz or Purson to dissect theirs as well. Probably both of them, a greater sample size provided better results.

Some of the irritation faded as he stepped into his dorm, taking in a deep breath of his space, with his mana and his smell. Maybe Blushenko-sensei knew what he was talking about.

~

Tellur was bored, Jazz had stopped by with Purson to check on him and hand him assignments, but didn’t stay. Which was weird.

But there was only so much homework he could do, then he was stuck with the boredom again. He fixed this by drawing, sketching in his book until the monotony of tracing out lines mentally drained him. His next option was baking, but he was only able to get out the ingredients before he decided that it was simply not going to be fun.

What he wanted to do was go outside, fly a little, maybe swim a little. But he was stuck inside.

Devi it was like 2020 all over again.

2020 what? That’s a stupid fucking code number, it gives no indication of what it could be used for.

Who was stopping him from going outside? It was simply a suggestion for his health, not necessarily an order, though something in his brain howled at the thought of disobeying. Which was ridiculous, he’s not some loyal dog, he can do whatever the fuck he wants.

The only reason he looked both ways before stepping out of his door was because he wanted to avoid talking to anyone. Not because he was scared of being caught. That would be stupid, because he’s not a prisoner. He’s very much allowed to go wherever he pleases.

Sadly this thought process didn’t stop his heart from skipping a beat everytime he heard footsteps.

It wasn’t long before he was in the secondary courtyard, setting himself below a tree to listen to the chatter around. Like he suspected, most of it was about Iruma. Though more conversations than he expected drifted to the teachers. It made sense, approving such a thing was unheard of. Some claimed favoritism, others said bribery, most expressed jealousy. Though it was just gossip, there was good information sprinkled in occasionally.

Information was always good to have. He’ll take every advantage, appearing as someone stronger than he was could be useful. Especially when the harvest festival comes around, getting all the points required to win would be difficult.

“He’s such a creep,” he doesn’t know why he locked onto the voice, keeping his gaze in one direction as he listened. The voice was feminine, and he was able to make out where it was in the corner of his eye, “I’m not looking forward to next year, I hear he teaches more classes,”

A teacher they were talking shit about then? Is this a new rumor?

“Doesn’t he use vines to trap people?” goddamnit, why were all the bad rumors about Balam-sensei. Honestly, demons can be so uncreative. He remembers hearing all sorts of rumors about all of the teachers at his old school. Though it was also a really sketchy school, he’s decently sure he only passed because one of the teachers lost everyone’s assignments and decided to give everyone an A. “and he’s always touching everything, do you think he’s a pervert?”

“Insolent bug. Kill her,”

There was someone yelling his name, hands pulling on his shoulders before one yanked him away by the collar of his jacket. Holding him in place even as he struggled against it.

His brain felt like a blanket had been wrapped around it, a haze of detached rage that made it difficult to focus. He vaguely registered a drop of something rolling down his arm as a crowd gathered in front of something. The hand tightened on his jacket, and a flash of electric mana stopped him from fighting back as he was pulled away. Someone grabbed the something and started running, the red, dripping something.

Why did he feel sick?

Someone was talking to him, the tone was reprimanding, harsh. He knew he should be listening, this voice was to be respected, listened to. But he couldn’t really do anything other than walk where the respected led him. He tried, but then he would feel the sticky mess drying on his hands and fade away again.

The nails on the hand clutching the collar of his jacket were sharp, and the hand was cold. They stopped talking, and his chest twisted in guilt. He was meant to give a response, that was a silence for a response. The voice seemed more loud when it started again, and he felt something grab his head, squeezing it. He’s sure it should’ve hurt, but he didn’t feel much.

Dark hair, dark eyes, and a noble looking face filled his vision. He knew this face, he just needed to do what the respected wanted him to do. But he could hardly muster enough will to look him in the eyes.

The respected’s face set into something, he’s not sure what emotion it was. But the next bark of words were a bit softer, the path changing. He doesn’t know how he knew what path they were taking, or how he knew it changed from place of comfort to place of embarrassment. He wanted to protest, to say he was fine, say he didn’t need the infirmary. But his tongue seemed to be made of lead. Or maybe plutonium. Plutonium was cooler to say than lead, heavier too.

The respected opened a door, and he saw another respected shoo him away, gesturing at Tellur and saying something he couldn’t understand. He saw the red thing again, set on one of the beds and breathing steadily. He took a step forward, hands twitching with the need to finish what he started. He was quickly pulled back, a growl and more electricity keeping him in place. So he stayed still, despite the fog thickening with anger rage finish it offense how dare she speak like that.

The door closed, and he heard an annoyed sigh before he was being pulled along again. This path meant place of comfort, though it was never a path the respected had taken. He knew this in the same way he knew he was meant to understand the noises that seemed so distant.

The smell of the comfort place made him relax slightly, and he drew in another deep breath. Something cold was on his hands, a rough soft pressure wiping away the dried red. A wet rag, and hands he did not associate with gentleness. It was his baking rag, he threw it over his resting bread doughs. He frowned slightly at where the red seeped from his hands to the fabric, that would take a while to wash out, he hated bleach.

The rag was wrung out, he could hear the water being squeezed into the bowl. His hands twitched again, he should help, it would be better if he helped with the water. He doesn’t know why or how he would help with it, but seeing the long fingers doing anything to help him felt wrong. He should not be helped. Especially with something he should be perfectly capable of doing.

He still couldn’t move, staring at the hands wiping the red off of his skin with a distant sort of embarrassed helplessness. He wasn’t sure if he could repay this gentleness, if he even should or if any mention of it would have him faced with punishment.

The voice was exasperated when they spoke again, wiping the rag across his cheek. Was the red there too? That wasn’t good, it meant he didn’t do well enough. Meant he was messy, his father didn’t teach him to be messy. Was that who was helping him? No, the respected was different. His father had brown hair, the respected’s was a dark purple.

The respected liked the green tea powder, he needed to be a proper host and make it. He’s being rude to a superior. No one’s superior to him, what is he thinking? But the respected should be accommodated, he needs to get the tea.

He needs to move, this is pathetic. He needs to be proper, proper demons don’t get stuck in their own heads.

There were more words, then the respected stood up, wringing out the rag once more before placing it on Tellur’s forehead. Then he was gone, and Tellur was alone.

Time blended together, his arms were cold. He could see his jacket placed on the couch, the pocket of it buzzing and making noise. That was important, he should answer. He flexed his fingers, reaching his arm towards it. The noise stopped for a moment before starting up again, and he let his arm fall. There's no way he can get to it, it’s too far. He leaned his head against the back of the wooden chair, the rag on his forehead dry and uncomfortable. Wasn’t it supposed to be wet and cold?

There was a bowl of red tinted water on the table, he wanted to drink it. The thought disturbed him for some reason, so he turned away from the bowl, slowly bringing up a hand to take the rag off his forehead. The buzzing didn’t stop, the accompanying noise sounding like an irritating melody.

Then he was on the floor, shoulder absently stinging. The buzzing didn’t stop.

“God you’re pathetic,” he knows this, she doesn’t have to tell him, “you’re going to worry her, get up,”

He wants to say that he can’t, but his voice is little more than a wheeze of breath.

“Get. Up,”, his arms move underneath himself, and before he realizes it, he’s sitting on the couch, his phone in hand, “this is why no one likes you,”

“Mom- mom!” his voice came out clear and controlled, “sorry, somehow my phone got stuck under the fridge,”

“Tellur! Oh are you alright? The school called and said that your evil cycle started,” her voice was worried, and he could imagine her concerned face. “If you need anything from home just tell me and I’ll be right there,”

“It’s alright mom,” his hands tapped the back of the phone, fingers drumming out a rhythm he vaguely remembered, “I have most of my stuff here anyways, you don’t need to fly over. I doubt I’ll be allowed out of my dorm to meet you anyways,”

“Yes, they told me about the fight. I’m just happy you didn’t get hurt this time,”

He laughed awkwardly, the movement in his throat seeming painful, “well, I did promise to try,”

“Alright baby, I’ll let you sleep. Remember, if you need anything-”

“I know mom,” he frowned as he interrupted her, “I’ll call you,”

“I love you,”

“I love you too mom,”

The call ended, he wasn’t sure who pressed the button.

“Right, let’s go shortstack,” he felt his mouth say, as his arms pushed up until he was on his feet. His bloodied clothes were changed out of, sticking to his skin as they were pulled off. The shower was colder than he usually had it, but the remaining blood flowed off his skin and out of his hair. Mostly, he was going to take another shower tomorrow to get the rest out.

He felt himself reach for a towel, which he really only had in case of guests needing an emergency shower, and flicked his other hand to send the water off of him and in the vague direction of the drain. His hand stopped reaching when the wet slap hit the wall. Without a word, why would there be conversation? He’s alone? He put on clean clothes, sliding on the first he found in the wardrobe.

There was some difficulty getting into his nest, his talons scraping against the wall as he pushed himself up and in. He distantly wondered why he didn’t use his wings before drifting off.

~

Tellur woke up to a headache and his doorbell letting out a horrible screech. He rolled out of his nest, spreading out his wings so he didn’t faceplant.

Combing a hand through his hair gave no real results, it was heavily knotted, blood residue leaving his hands a red when he pulled them away. He really didn’t want to see anyone right now, but that awful screeching wouldn’t fucking stop.

What fucking time was it anyways? Too early is his answer, the oven clock shows that it just turned 6.

Which meant that the person at his door was someone crazy enough to get up this early, so they were likely either a teacher or Asmodeus.

He opened the door to see his suspicions were correct, as Kalego-sensei was standing outside with a reprimanding glare already aimed at him. “Isn’t he cool,” yes, yes he is. It doesn’t change the fact that it's 6 in the morning.

“That took ten minutes,” Kalego’s face was set in a frown, “I don’t appreciate having my time wasted,”

He’s the one that came here-! No, no. Tellur won’t get mad.

“Sorry sensei,” don’t yawn, don’t yawn, “what do you…” is it more polite to say need or want? Is it disrespectful to assume that the demon needs anything? “What are you doing here?”

“Nice save,” shut up.

“Now that you are of clear mind, I am here to reprimand you.” “oooh, you’re in trouble” he averted his eyes, stomping down any feeling that came close to anger. Anger wasn’t safe, but for some fucking reason that was the primary emotion. “I don’t care if you get in fights, so long as you don’t murder your peers.”

What? Is that what happened? “idiot,” shut up.

Kalego-sensei snapped his fingers, and a large stack of papers appeared just above Tellur’s arms, giving him a split second to catch them. Well, at least now he won’t be bored.

“You are no longer allowed to leave your dorm under any circumstances unless you have permission from a teacher,” Tellur shifted awkwardly, torn between wanting to put the papers on his table and wanting to stand at attention. “I will know if you attempt to do so,”

Fucking obviously, he can feel the mana on the door and windows. He didn’t even see any movement to suggest casting a spell, but he recognized the mana moving out and reforming. “Would you rather he not give you a warning? Stop being an asshole,” that's fucking funny.

There was an expectant silence, and Tellur had to look up knowing he had failed to keep track of the conversation. The irritated look on Kalego’s face as he realized he had to repeat himself made the twisting feeling in his gut worse.

“Many of your schoolmates are weaker than you Tellur,” Kalego glared, “if you are incapable of controlling your strength, then there is little difference between you and a feral beast. I don’t want to hear about anything like this happening again, understood?”

He nodded, bowing his head, “yes sensei,”

There was an approving huff, “good,” Tellur only looked up again when he heard the door close, trying not to crumple the lowermost page as his hands curled.

“is it bad if I found that hot?”

He let out a choked noise, dropping the papers on the table, “yes, yes it is!”

“whoops,”

~

The stack of papers was homework, who would’ve thought. Maybe Kalego-sensei just has a plethora of extra homework to draw from.

Tellur wouldn’t put it past him, the demon’s been a teacher for…

A while. Which was probably between 20 and 300 years. The man must’ve had quite a lot of resources to draw from.

He wasn’t too mad about it, it kept him from being bored, and thinking.

If he thought then he’d just have more questions, and those questions would be hard to answer.

Questions like who the fuck is the stupid little voice in his head making it hard to concentrate on things. He had a weird sort of acceptance to her, a sort of familiarity in the comments that kept him from freaking out. Despite how much of an asshole it was.

Was she just here because of his evil cycle? Or would she be here to stay? Both options made his gut twist uncomfortably, and dissecting the reasons behind that took more energy than he was willing to allot.

So he just kept filling out the papers, runic equations were something he excelled at, and found rather fun. His allies didn’t understand the simple joy of being able to step away for a moment, focusing fully on numbers and equations. Did Kalego-sensei notice this? Is this why he gave him these specific assignments?

But this was meant to be a punishment wasn’t it? Why would it be something he enjoys?

He’s not going to write Kalego off as unknowing of this, the teacher’s scarily observant. He wouldn’t expect any less from a teacher at Babyls, but still. The way he’s able to see without watching would have scared him if it was anyone else.

Oh fuck, he was meant to be writing. Although he didn’t really seem to have a specific time to turn it in, as one was not given to him.

… what if it was due at the end of the day?

He eyed the pile of work warily. No, that would be too cruel, even for the demon.

Maybe he should refocus on this, just in case.

~

He was halfway through the, quite frankly excessive, pile when he was bothered for seemingly no reason.

“We’re hungry,” which is ridiculous, he’s not hungry. And he has more work to do. “I’m going to kill you if you don’t eat something,”

Tellur sighed, letting his head fall on the table with a thump, “I don’t want to eat, I want to do more worksheets,”

“Bitch, cocksucker, I want to eat,”

“Too fucking bad, I’m not hungry,”

“Yes you are! This is the reason you’re such a runt, Shortie Mcfuckface over here. Drink some water while you’re at it,”

“I’m short because of genetics,” he grumbled, standing angrily and dropping his paper so he didn’t rip it, “I’ll be so fucking tall soon, asshole,”

So maybe he was a bit hungry, maybe more than a bit. Whatever, hunger is stupid anyways. If he had any say over it he’d be solar charged, maybe with a changeable biofilter so he could eat for pleasure.

Not that the devi-ramen he cooked up was the height of cuisine, no, objectively it sucked. But he was too impatient to wait the three minutes for it to be actually done. And he’s pretty sure the broth packet had been gone for a while at that point, likely used as seasoning in a much better dish.

He fought back the urge to cry, then promptly decided that no one could tell him what to do and he can cry all he fucking wants. No one was around anyways, and the stupid voice had been quiet since he started eating.

Stupid fucking emotions, he doesn’t even know where they came from.

~

He woke up the next morning with a splitting headache and the voice already chatting at him. Or yelling at him, he didn’t care enough to listen. Everything was loud, and the screeching doorbell was not helping. It was making it worse, but he couldn’t leave Iruma waiting.

Well, he could. It would be really easy actually, he could just keep lying here until the human left.

The feeling of his arm moving without his say so made it clear which path he would be taking, will or not.

“Fucking finally, connections are important.”

Iruma would understand, he was too nice like that.

“So you’d be an asshole to him, taking advantage of that niceness is a dick move,”

“Eugh, you’re right or whatever,” he rubbed at his eyes, reaching for the door, “rejoice or whatever it is you do,”

Except instead of Iruma outside, like he was very sure of, it was something else. Mana and muscle stitched together, glowing in its intensity. There was so much mana confined in such a small space that he thought it could've been a bomb, a bomb with muscles and bones glowing underneath its fucking skin.

“Oh what the fuck,”

Chapter Text

Tellur watched the thing bow, the outlines of its flat teeth visible through it’s skin.

“I’m really sorry! I heard that you went into your evil cycle and I knew it must’ve been because of how much you helped out with the permission slips and-”

“Iruma?”

The thing- Iruma paused, looking up from his bowed position. “Yes?”

“Why the fuck aren’t you in the infirmary?”

“Huh? Why would I be?”

He let out an exasperated noise, grabbing Iruma’s wrist and dragging him into the hall. Trying desperately not to focus on the sheer amount of mana just below the skin, where he couldn’t get it. It's like it was in his veins.

“Wha- where are we going?!”

“To the infirmary,” he answered bluntly, expecting that stupid voice in his mind to chime in at any moment.

“Why?”

“Because you’re fucking glowing!” don’t hiss, don’t hiss. It’s unbecoming, “Why do you think?”

“I’m what!?”

~

It didn’t take much time until Kalego interrupted their walk, stepping in front of Tellur with a glare. He glared back, pushing Iruma forward with a “fix him”.

Kalego-sensei pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes and drawing in an annoyed breath. Which Tellur was not going to yell at, Tellur wasn’t going to yell. Period. Because he’s so good at staying calm and collected.

“First you’ll need to tell me what’s wrong with him,” Iruma looked between the two of them as the teacher spoke, before his gaze fell to his hands again. Tellur wanted to strangle somebody.

A wash of emotions came over him, annoyance, hesitation, joy, determination. It made him sick. The amount of noise filling his head stemming from nearby signatures, it made him wish his power was deactivated. But he just couldn’t, turn, it off.

“He’s fucking glowing thats whats wrong!” he also drew in a breath, trying to curb his anger. It wasn’t working, “he looks like a fucking bomb!”

Kalego looked over Iruma with a more analytical eye, before his face rested in irritation once more. “If this is your way of trying to get out of punishment for leaving your dorm then I suggest-”

“What the fuck!?” he let go of Iruma’s arm so he didn’t grab too hard, threading his fingers together, “no! Can you really not see that?”

Tellur looked at Iruma closely, his tone quieting. The glow was still there, and he hated it, hated how he could see the tendon’s moving inside his friend's body as he fidgeted. He turned his gaze to Kalego, eyes tracing the arcs of electricity let off when the teacher moved.

Oh, this was a him problem. Kalego was glowing too, if only slightly. And the demon would never be so uncontrolled to let off mana like that simply speaking.

The teacher seemed to take his silence as surrender, clicking his tongue before speaking, “go back to your dorm Izayoi, if Iruma does explode you’ll be informed,”

Something ugly twisted in his throat, and he nodded. Turning on the pad of his talon to head back.

He ignored the conversation Iruma had with Kalego, keeping his head down until he returned.

Fuck, that was stupid. He should’ve just ignored it. But he didn’t know that Iruma was fine, maybe he should’ve guessed it when the human himself didn’t see anything wrong.

Stupid stupid stupid. He didn’t even reassure Iruma about the apology-

A man with short brown hair was playing the piano, a soft melody echoing through the house. She watched him from the hallway, hiding partially behind the wall.

He smiled, keeping his eyes on the sheet paper. Despite this, she knew she had been seen. She could never seem to hide well enough.

“What happened to being too sick to get out of bed?” he asked, voice amused as he stopped playing, finally turning to give her his attention.

She froze, then dramatically coughed into her elbow, hunching over and gagging for good measure.

“That’s enough of that now Amber, your ruse has been seen through,” she groaned, wiping her mouth and padding over on socked feet to sit next to him. The piano bench was worn down from its original black, and there were colored marks that couldn’t be washed out. She’s tried, many times.

“I really am sick though,” an arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her against his side. “Just maybe… not as sick as advertised,”

“Why don’t you want to go to school?” he asked softly, and she missed the melody of before. Now the only noise was the rumbling air conditioner, “is someone bothering you?”

“...” she didn’t look up at him, hands curling in the fabric of her shirt. “Ms. Smith said he just wants to be my friend, but he’s mean. I don’t like him,”

The arm squeezed her shoulders, and she hid her face in his shirt. She didn’t want to cry again, she’s already cried too much.

“You don’t have to like him,” he muttered, rubbing her back, “I’ll speak to your teachers about this, but for now, would you like to watch me play?”

His hands returned to the piano as she said yes, and she wiped her eyes with her sleeves to see the way his fingers danced across the keys. The music was much better than the silence.

He was on the floor, staring at the puddle of blood against his face in contempt. His nose stung like a bitch, which is probably where the blood came from. Tellur got up with a sigh, setting to work on cleaning his face and the floor.