Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

     Iruma was running errands. Again.

     This time, it wasn’t as heavy, just a simple briefcase that wasn’t even filled to the brim. At least that's how it began. Now, Iruma was being hounded by men in suits. He could hear them yelling behind him, angry and loud. He didn't look back, just obeyed his instincts. Left, then right. He could hear their footsteps slowing with each turn, but he couldn't lose them.

     Iruma collided with someone and tumbled backward. Instead of looking at the person he had run into, the boy twisted his head back and spotted the men's shadows approaching the alley he was in. Before he could scramble, lean arms lifted him into the air.

     The wind whipped around, pushing his hair in every direction. The next thing he knew, he was on a rooftop. Iruma’s vision spiraled as he clutched the stranger's shirt.

     The briefcase’s weight was gone. The men were shouting below, still searching for the boy. Iruma looked up at the person who’d grabbed him. Red hair. Tufts sticking out from their hair and… moving? The stranger figure looked him over, seemingly checking for injury. The tufts, which Iruma swears are cat ears, shifted, darting around as if listening for threats. Iruma’s shoulders loosened. Somehow, the stranger didn’t feel dangerous at all.

     “I assume you don’t know them?” Their tone was even.

     “No,” Iruma shook his head, trying to put emphasis on the statement. The boy looked down, taking a breath in like the angry men could hear them.

     “And this?” the stranger asked, holding up the briefcase. Iruma remembered why he was here in the first place.

     “Supposed to take it to the docks.”

     “The dock?” They mumbled, looking over the skyline. “Shouldn’t you be at school?”

     “No,” Iruma answered, a bit too quickly, “Ma said I’m independent!”

     The stranger paused, “Is that normal here?” The cat person seemed to be at a loss.

     “I just don't go as often as my classmates?” Iruma tilted his head, trying to see the ears 

again as they tucked back into the stranger’s hair. The stranger nodded thoughtfully.

     “Do you want to go to school?”

    “...Teacher says I’m behind, so I gotta sit by myself.” The boy picked at his thumbs.

     “And if you didn’t have to sit alone?”

     “Yeah!” Iruma brightened, smiling before his face fell. “Can’t do that. Ma and Pa say I gotta earn my keep.”

     The stranger finally sat the boy down and knelt in front of him. “How about we make a deal?”

     “A Deal?”

     “A deal is a contract. A promise. One that can’t be broken without con- bad things happening.” They corrected themselves, trying to find words Iruma would understand, before pulling out a small notebook.

     “What kinda promise?”

     “I’ll teach you everything you need to catch up, and make sure you can go to school. Without your parents stopping you.” The cat said it plainly, jotting something in a small notebook. “In return, you help me make my master happy.”

     Iruma squinted. “How?”

     “He wants a grandson.” That felt oddly specific… almost like this Lord Sullivan was jealous of someone.

     Iruma wrinkled his nose. “But... he’s not Ma’s or Pa’s Pa.”

     The cat nodded solemnly. “Correct. He doesn’t have any kids.”

     A pause. Then a flick of the tail.

     “But that can be remedied.” They said with a tone full of certainty and a tinge of mischief.

     Iruma stared. The cat continued calmly. “I’ll read the deal. You can sign or say no. Understand?”

     “Yeah.”

     The cat cleared their throat.

     “I, Opera, hereby promise to ensure that I will teach the dependent privately until the dependent is up to the standards required for admission to Babyls. Upon meeting these standards, I shall ensure their continued education and graduation from said institution. In return, the dependent shall become the acknowledged grandson of Lord Sullivan.” The cat’s tone was formal, their eyes looking from the little book to Iruma.

     “Babyls ?” 

     “A highly prestigious school.”

     Iruma shifted his weight, pulling at his fingers again. “...I sign if I want it?”

     “You sign if you agree to the terms.”

     Iruma tapped his fingers against the rooftop, glancing between the briefcase and the little book. The cat waited, silent and steady. Their gaze was nothing like his parents’ expectations, their patience nothing like his teacher’s sharp annoyance or his classmates’ dismissals.

     The boy spoke before he could stop himself. “Will I be happy?”

     The question came quietly. He didn't know why, but it felt bigger than anything he'd asked before. Has he ever asked for anything before? Iruma looked up at Opera, straining his eyes as if trying to catch any negative response.

     Opera tilted their head, considering. For a long moment, the rooftop seemed to be still. Then they said softly, “That’s up to you.” Then, they turned their gaze down toward the chaos below.

     “But I guarantee you’ll be happier than here.”

     Iruma followed their gaze, the yelling was distant but still audible. He turned back to the cat, taking the notebook. Iruma looked over it one more time, only really understanding the give and take. 

     And with the slightest bit of hesitation, he signed.

Chapter Text

     “Lord Sullivan?”

     “Yes, Opera?” The yellow-horned demon looked up. “Is there something you need?”

     “I need you to sign something for tomorrow.” The cat devil put down a few documents. “Sign here, stamp here, and here,” they outlined effortlessly, turning to the next page before Sullivan could finish blinking. 

     Sullivan signed quickly, not even bothering to try to read it, “For tomorrow you say…” The older demon tapped the desk, looking over to Opera, “You don’t want me to read it?”

Opera didn’t blink. “You’ll see tomorrow.”

     “Opera, you’re so efficient,” Sullivan hummed.

     Opera turned slightly. “Yes. Of course.” 

     They tucked both sets of papers away.

     When Opera returned to their room, they found Iruma right where they left him… Exactly where they left him. “Are human children so well behaved? Or is it just his upbringing?” Opera thought, setting the documents aside before rifling through a bag. The cat had quickly stopped by a clothing store while heading home.

     “Okay, we need to get rid of your smell.” 

     “Smell?” Iruma sniffed his skin; all he could smell was dirt and sweat.

     “Not only are you filthy, but you smell too human.” Opera helped him into the bath and got to work, scrubbing gently but thoroughly. No spot was missed.

     “But I am human?” The boy said, seemingly confused.

     “Yes, you are.” The cat began rinsing him off, “But being human here is… Dangerous.”

     “Dan… dangero-?”

     “Dangerous, likely to cause harm or injury. Humans are… delectable? Humans smell really good to demons.” 

     “If I smell good, why would I need a bath?”

     “Such a sweet aroma… like the rarest delicacy.” Opera pulled him out of the tub and wrapped him in a towel. “And we’d rather not have someone try to take a bite.”

     Iruma nodded vigorously before looking up at Opera, “You don’t want to bite me, right?”

     “No, I don’t want to bite you, but other demons might.”

     “And Lord Sul… Sulii-”

     “Lord Sullivan. It would be better just to call him grandpa.” The cat pulled out a simple children's outfit. “Lord Sullivan is an exceedingly strong and controlled demon, so there is no need to worry.”  Opera finished adjusting Iruma’s hoodie and met his hopeful eyes. “We’re not leaving you here. If we do, Lord Sullivan will find you before the surprise.”

     Iruma blinked, then grinned. “So… I’m coming with you?”

     “Exactly,” Opera replied, lifting him up gently. “ You need to see the world you’ll be living in.”

     With Iruma securely in their arms, Opera slipped silently out the door, the adoption papers feeling heavier than they had at first. Every step felt like walking a slope; pulled along by gravity, and by the greater gravity of the situation. Opera had to be careful not to tumble; moving too quickly would not be wise.

     Ahead, the city buzzed with a thousand lights, steady and unbothered by the weight Opera carried in their arms. With every careful step toward the governmental office, the adoption papers seemed heavier, each footfall a reminder that Iruma’s life was about to change irrevocably.

     The streets of the demon world were alive with color and movement, a kaleidoscope of neon signs and swirling mist. Laughing devils with pointed horns and shimmering tails danced among the crowd, and the cobblestones beneath their feet gleamed as if the planet itself was breathing. But amid the vivid commotion, a tension hummed, silent and piercing, like the unexpected snap of a trap buried beneath sparkling lights.

     Iruma’s gaze shifted from demon to demon. He felt like this world wasn’t much different from his old one. Sure, demons were taller, less like him, and a lot of them had horns. Yet his inner alarm flagged just as many threats here as back home. Many of Iruma’s observations fell through with every new demon, the demon world had a lot of diversity. The boy's eyes caught on a stall, the demon was selling headbands with horns, flowers, and ears attached. Some even had small hats or crowns, a few were antennas, but the one that caught his eye was a pair that looked similar to Opera’s ears.

     “Is there something you like?” the cat asked, voice casual but eyes flicking toward where Iruma had paused.

     Iruma jolted when he realized Opera had stopped walking. The boy quickly shook his head perhaps a bit too vigorously. He didn’t realize Opera was paying so much attention to him. The cat’s tail gave a slow, amused sway, paying his denial no mind as their gaze landed on the display.

     “It seems these are fox ears,” they murmured, lifting a headband for inspection. As they looked over at the rack of cartoonishly flat cat ears, a faint flick of their ears betrayed their disapproval.“They’ll have to do.”

     Without any preamble, Opera paid the demon behind the counter and, with deft hands, slid the headband onto Iruma’s head without disturbing his hood. The boy felt a small, unfamiliar warmth bloom there. Opera had murmured something under their breath, but he couldn’t understand the words being spoken.

     And just like that, they were walking again, tail swaying with quiet satisfaction, not giving Iruma any chance to protest.

     The market's vibrant chaos faded behind them as the winding streets narrowed and the crowds thinned. Neon signs gave way to towering stone structures engraved with ancient carvings, their chilly surfaces absorbing the subdued light of the gloomy sky. The combined aromas of food and smoke were supplanted by the scent of incense and parchment.

     Opera's pace slowed, and their tail slowed to a more deliberate beat, austere structure guarded by towering statues of demonic beasts. The hum of enthusiastic conversation faded into a faint whisper, smothered by the weight of formality.

     Iruma looked up, wide-eyed at the massive structure.  Here, beneath the shadow of power, the colorful world seemed to be dulled down by a pretext Iruma couldn’t quite understand.

     As Opera strode through the door and toward the sets of desks, each with its own formally dressed demon. Iruma looked around. There were cravings in the pillars and painting on the ceiling. He was sure the color itself was just as vibrant but the mood seemed to try and convince him otherwise. 

     “I need these processed by the end of the day.” Opera slid the paperwork over to the reception agent.

     The demon looked over the paperwork, “Lord Sullivan finally wore you down?” They continued to check the documents over, “With this stamp, it should be processed soon, would you like copies?”

     “Yes, I need them for tomorrow.”

     “Very well, you can sit in the waiting area. I’ll call you  after confirmation.”

     Opera walked over to a few cushioned seats, helping Iruma settle into one. The cat took the seat beside Iruma quietly.The day’s whiplash made him drowsy, but the cold, unfamiliar building kept him alert. The boy’s eyes fell back to the pillars, he tried to make out the beast on it. It was a group of fiery horses running in a spiral up the pillar. Every single horse had wings on its back. Iruma looked around and noticed that most of the demons here had wings. He could even vaguely see the silts in the back of every demon's clothing. 

     “Demons have evolved to have retractable wings.” Opera’s voice broke softly through the stillness, answering the question Iruma hadn’t quite formed.

     “Every Demon?”  Iruma’s voice was tentative, the question hanging between them.

     Opera paused, their tail slightly stiffing, “No, not every.”

     The receptionist’s voice called through the hushed chamber. “Opera, your papers are ready.”

     The cat leaned down to pick up Iruma, before heading over to get the documents. The receptionist quickly handed them over. After a brief pause, as Opera checked over the papers, they said, “It’s time we head home.”

     Opera locked their room as soon as they entered, they couldn’t risk the master figuring it out before tomorrow. They let out a slow, audible sigh and looked down at Iruma, who was sound sleeping with the tiniest smile on his lips. The cat's lips twisted into a faint, tired smile in response.

They gently removed the boy's hoodie and carefully tucked him in, checking again to ensure his comfort. Then, sinking into their armchair, Opera allowed their thoughts to roam over the day's chaos. The unregulated portal near Babyls, the chase, the deal made, and this fragile peace now resting in the quiet room.

     “It seems Lord Sullivan’s more whim-like behaviors have rubbed off on me,” Opera murmured softly, half to themselves, half to the sleeping boy.

     For the first time in a long while, the silence didn’t feel heavy.

    “Well… quiet never lasts long in this house.”

Chapter Text

     Iruma sat at the end of the massive dining table, legs swinging far above the polished floor. The table stretched so far it looked like no one could ever fill it, polished wood gleaming under the chandelier’s light. In front of him sat two pristine documents, weighed down by a teacup too fine to touch.

     Opera had dropped him off with one strange instruction, their tail curling as they spoke:
“When Lord Sullivan asks who you are, just point to the papers.”

     So Iruma waited, hands folded in his lap, trying not to fidget. The silence pressed down on him, not like the noise of men shouting in the streets, but heavy all the same. The butler’s tail had twitched with barely hidden amusement as they left. Opera’s departure left Iruma with little to do but wait. His eyes running along the divots and crevices of the room.

     Before Iruma could form any opinion on the decor, he heard an unfamiliar but joyful humming.

     The hefty doors swung open.

     “Good morning!” Sullivan’s voice rang out, like he was in a musical.  Before Sullivan could, presumably, break into song, he spotted Iruma. 

    The demon’s bouncy movements paused as he turned to Opera. “…Why is there a child in my seat?”

     “No reason of note,” Opera replied smoothly, setting down a teapot. “Perhaps you should ask him yourself.”

     Sullivan crouched beside Iruma. “What’s your name?”

     Iruma almost answered him before remembering Opera’s instructions. The boy glanced down at the papers in front of him and pointed. Sullivan stood up slowly, movement fluid and slow as if Iruma was a frightened hamster. “Can he sense fear?” Iruma thought, his senses couldn’t quite tell if Sullivan was dangerous or not. Somehow that was both worse and better for Iruma.

     “Adoption papers?” Sullivan blinked. “Opera, you have a son now?!”

     “There are two sets.”

     “Two-” He flipped the second page, stopped. “Opera, this-”

     Pop! Confetti rained down as Opera said, “Happy birthday. You now have a grandson.”

     Sullivan trembled, then erupted into delighted whoops, bouncing around the room before skidding to his knees in front of Iruma. “So that means… you’re my adorable little grandson!”

     Iruma fiddled with his fingers before deciding that the demon in front of him was all that scary. “Yes… grandpa.”

     In the next second, he was scooped up, spun in dizzy circles, and swept into a massive family hug. Opera dodged the first attempt, but Sullivan caught them in the second, their ears flattening in mild protest while their tail betrayed them as it kept its same slow movements.

     “We need to commemorate this!!?”

     “On it,” Opera replied, already halfway through setting up a camera. Sullivan placed Iruma in a chair and dragged it into view of the lens.

     “Hold this up for the camera, would you?” the old demon said, passing Iruma the adoption documents. “You too, Opera.”

     The cat’s ears twitched, but they obediently stepped into position. Sullivan stood to Iruma’s right, resting a proud hand on the chair, while Opera stood on the left, their own set of documents in hand. Opera’s tail curled neatly around the chair arm, almost protectively.

     Flash!

     “You’re so fragile-looking. It’s adorable!” Sullivan patted Iruma’s head, he paused when he touched the headband. The old demon glanced at Opera, who avoided eye contact, and vaguely sniffed. “Ah.” Was all Iruma heard before Sullivan got back to his usual energy, “Where did you get this terrifying headband?”

     “Opera got it for me.” Iruma answered quietly before adding, “From a little stall.”

     “That won’t do!” Sullivan shouted and Opera sighed, “Opera! How am I supposed to be the favorite?!”

     “Maybe, You aren’t supposed to be the favorite.” The cat’s tail curled but their tone stayed even.

     The old demon gasped before flaying around on the ground. With little time for Iruma to process, Sullivan began pulling toys and trinkets from… from? Where are those coming from?

     “Do you like this?” Sullivan held up toy, this time a stuffed wolf with wings, putting it down before Iruma could even reply. “How about this?” The boy could hear his grandfather mumbling something about a headband under his breath.

     “Lord Sullivan, Iruma won’t be able to choose if you don’t give him time.” Opera’s tone was deadpaned, as always. The boy felt guilty watching Sullivan kneeling while digging through a mountain of toys.  The cat stood to the right of Iruma. 

     “I could buy out all the toy stores. I’m sure I'd find something my grandson likes then!!”

     “Grandpa, it’s fine.” Iruma held up his hands, he felt guilty just eating their food. “I don’t need any toys!”

     “So you want something other than a toy!” The older demon shoots up to his feet. Iruma was quickly picked up and Sullivan dashing toward a dark door. The door leads to a long winding pathway under ground. The dark area is full to the brim with objects, both vaguely familiar and completely foreign. “Just pick anything!”

     “Lord Sullivan.” Iruma was gently pulled out of his grandfather’s arms, “I will make sure Iruma chooses something, but you have paperwork to do.”

     “But…”

     “If you leave…” Opera glanced down at Iruma, who was looking up at them, “That. Matter alone, it will be very suspicious.”

     The old demon’s theatrics halted, a slight shadow obscured his face. “You’re most correct!” Sullivan smiled, something a bit less goofy, “But promise you’ll pick something!!” Iruma’s hands were now being held by Sullivan, as the old demon looked up at him with sparkling eyes.

     “I…” The boy looked back to Opera, who nodded, “I promise.”

     With that the old demon was off, Iruma wasn’t sure where Sullivan was heading. The cat simply continued down the darkened pathway.

     “Your grandfather wants you to have a keepsake.”

     “A keepsake?” 

     “Something people use to show they remember each other, usually something sentimental.” 

     “But… I don’t know what’s sentimental to grandpa…” 

     “It’s not about what is, but what will be.” Opera paused, thinking for a moment. “He seems… rather perturbed that you’ve chosen to wear the headband I gave you, yet ignored the gifts he offered.”

     Iruma noticed a few badges stacked precariously on a shelf. “What are those?”

     Opera walked over and picked it up, “It’s a ranking badge, we use them at Babyls. This is Aleph the lowest rank.”

     “...So like a reward?”

     “In a way, yes.” The cat looked over the shelf, “I suppose if you want to choose something to make Lord Sullivan happy, perhaps you should pick something you could wear.”

     “Like the headband?” The boy pointed at the fake ears on his head, whatever Opera did prevented them from falling off.

     “Yes, like your headband.” Opera spoke, putting emphasis on Iruma’s ownership. Iruma felt like he was being scolded.

     Iruma turned his attention back to the shelf. The mountain of badges was surrounded by mountains of objects. There were a few necklaces and bracelets.  All of them were needlessly ornate, Iruma wondered if Sullivan loved complicated things. Then Iruma caught a subtle flash, looking over to see a simple gold ring. The boy reached for it, Opera stepped forward to help, and pulled off the shelf.

     “Would this be okay?”

     “That’s oddly fitting.” Opera nodded, “It's a very… Hungry ring.” Iruma titled his head, wondering if that was another weird demon compliment. “Speaking of hungry, it's time to prepare dinner.”

     Iruma sat in his new room. A very big room. The bed alone was so enormous he was pretty sure a hundred of him could sleep on it without touching. Every corner was decorated, every surface carved or painted, bright colors chasing across the wallpaper the patterns that felt alive. Ornate, yes… but strange.

     He thought back to the one time he’d been allowed to stay at a “friend’s” house, a classmate’s mother had taken pity. The walls there were clean and pastel, the furniture plain… compared to this room those seemed lifeless.

     After lunch, he plopped himself into a chair, worn out. Sullivan had more energy than he could ever keep up with, and even Opera seemed better suited to wrangling him. The table had overflowed with food, dish after dish until Iruma thought it would never end. The basement housed trinkets and treasures that Iruma couldn’t wrap his head around. And then there were the compliments. It seemed the two demons were intent on complementing his every move in the strangest ways. The amount he ate was “wonderfully gluttonous” , while his canines were "perfectly suited for this world”. 

     It was equal parts invigorating and exhausting. Thankfully Opera had noticed Iruma’s growing weariness and had escorted him to his new room. Opera had informed Iruma that basic lessons about the new strange world would begin tomorrow. The cat's ears had been angled, like they were waiting for something.

     The boy held his hand out in front of him, tracing the ring. Sullivan had tapped it lightly before exclaiming that it “was perfectly sated”. Iruma swears he could hear the faintest of laughs echoing from the ring.

     Maybe he needs rest.

     But there’s a thrum of worry and excitement in his bones, he suddenly has all the time in the world. It also felt like time was limited, a reservoir running dry. The nervous pulse from before lunch had slowed, leaving only a steady beat in its place. Iruma reached across the desk in front of him and grabbed a book. It reminded him of the children's books his parents had scoffed at. Iruma didn’t recognize the letters on the page… but he knew what it said. He quietly places it back. 

     He should sleep.

     He needs to sleep.

     Tomorrow will come, all the same but forever different.

Chapter Text

     “Lord Sullivan, this report was meant to be filed immediately,” the inspector demon said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

     “There’s no need to rush,” Sullivan replied cheerfully, waving a hand as though dismissing the weight of the matter. “The portal already closed. Opera checked, it was invisible from the other side and floating in the air. Quite the oddity, hm?”

     Henri’s eyes narrowed. “I still require the report before I can return to my duties, Lord Sullivan.”

     Sullivan only smiled wider. “Henri, Henri… Everyone knows you work too hard. Think of this as a short break. Besides, lunch is soon. And Opera doesn’t write anything until they’ve cooked it to perfection.”

     “I suppose so…” Henri said slowly, though his gaze flicked around the empty hallway, as if sensing something he couldn’t name. Opera’s absence gnawed at him, and the faint scent of food in the air made his temples ache. Sullivan’s cheer only made the absence larger. Henri found himself listening for footsteps that never came.

     “Then I shall trouble you,” Henri murmured, though unease twisted under his words. Sullivan only hummed in amusement, his eyes glinting in that infuriating way that said he already knew more than Henri would ever be allowed to.

     “Lord Sullivan.” Opera opened the study door.“ Lunch is ready.” The cat narrowed their eyes at Henri for a moment. “Will the inspector be joining us?”

     “Yes,” Sullivan paused and smiled, “And Opera, shouldn’t you be calling me something else?” The older demon tilted his head with an amused smile.

     Opera said nothing, only gesturing for the two demons to follow. The tips of their ears twitched despite themselves, and their tail lashed side to side in sharp, restrained flicks, which only added more fuel for Sullivan’s amusement. The eldest demon’s chatter continued all the way to the dining room, being treated as background noise by the other demons. After Opera held the door for the other demons, Henri’s eyes settled on a small figure. 

     The child’s dark blue eyes met Henri’s own. Iruma had his hands in his lap and was sitting straight, likely because of Opera’s coaching.

     “Iruma! Those two keep ignoring me!” Sullivan wrapped his arms around Iruma, crying out like he was deeply wronged. 

     “Um,” Iruma paused before lifting his hand and patting the old man’s shoulder, “There there, grandpa.”

     “Iruma is truly the only one who cares,” The old demon gave one last squeeze before straightening up like nothing happened. “Oh yes! Iruma, this is Henri, from Demon Border Control. Henri this is Iruma, my grandson.” 

     Henri’s eyes trailed from Iruma’s headband, that was indistinguishable from his hair, to the golden ring on Iruma’s hand. The ears on the headband were fake; anyone with a pair of their own could tell, and…that ring. The inspector demon bowed, “I wasn’t aware Lord Sullivan had any children. It’s nice to meet you, Young Master Iruma.”

     Iruma went to mimic Henri’s bow, but two hands pulled Iruma back. Opera keeps the boy from bowing before leaning down to quietly inform, “You are now a part of the Sullivan household, which outranks the Azazel household. Keep your back straight and look him in the eyes.” The cat demon pulled back their hands before patting Iruma’s shoulder lightly. Heat crawled up Iruma’s neck, the inspector’s gaze sharp as a knife. He couldn’t help but fidget.

     This time, Iruma looked over to Henri before greeting, in an only slightly stuttered tone, “N…Nice to meet you, Mr. Henri.” 

     “Henri is joining us for lunch.” Sullivan turned toward Opera. “Border Control wants the report on the portal soon.” Iruma tilted his head, not sure about what was being said. While Henri’s eyes had yet to fully leave the boy, they lingered on the ring at Iruma’s finger. The inspector’s posture tightened almost imperceptibly, though he said nothing.

     Iruma looked down at his hand before remembering the gold ring. “Grandpa? I picked this ring.” He held out his hand to show the old demon.

     “OH! My grandson has such a good eye!” Sullivan pressed his hands to his cheeks, gushing. “What a positively gluttonous ring, it fits you perfectly.” The grandfather reached over, tapping his grandson's nose. He quickly portioned some food onto his own plate before beginning to eat.

     “Iruma, you can eat now. What would you like?” Opera quietly asked Iruma. Iruma looked over the food on the table, subtly glancing at Henri. Iruma knew the others would do nothing but praise his appetite, but would everyone? The cat, sensing the boy’s unease, simply portioned out the same amount Iruma ate the day before. The food was neatly piled in front of Iruma, as neatly as you could pile a mountain that is. 

     Iruma decided to follow his grandfather’s example and began eating, catching only bits and pieces of the adult talk around him. He couldn’t help but feel on edge even if he knew Henri wasn’t dangerous. It didn’t help that Henri seemed so interested in Iruma's head. Iruma could barely understand what the adults were talking about; portal, paperwork, and the Border were the only words Iruma properly caught.

     It didn’t take long before Henri’s attention was practically dragged away by Sullivan’s whimsical attitude. As the lunch wore on, the inspector's brows furrowed tighter and tighter. To the inspector, it felt like he was playing both checkers and chess when talking to the annoyingly cheery demon. His jaw  worked, teeth grinding behind polite restraint. Opera seemed to try to make themselves as professionally useless to Henri as possible. This made Sullivan’s attics even worse. The cat’s tail was swaying slowly, and Iruma could see the faintest smirk on Opera’s face. Sullivan and Opera seemed to be having fun.

     “Lord Sullivan, the portal-” Henri began, only to be interrupted by Sullivan enthusing about the seasoning Opera had used.

.

.

.

     Opera helped Iruma down from the big dining chairs before lightly taking Iruma’s hand into their own. The cat looked toward Henri, nodding and then leading Iruma out of the dining room. Iruma looked back only to hear “I hope you realize I can’t ignore this?” and to see Sullivan’s eyes narrow slightly.

     The door to Iruma’s room opened with a soft click. Opera motioned for him to sit, and he obeyed at once, careful to mimic what he’d practiced earlier. Straightening his back, Iruma looked up expectantly at the cat demon.

     “First,” the cat’s tail flicked lazily, “good posture. Keep that posture, it’s important. Second, when addressing someone, always use their title: Inspector Azazel or Inspector Henri, for example.” Opera gave a small pause, ears twitching. “And if you don’t know their rank or title, it’s best not to refer to them directly at all.”

     Iruma tilted his head. “How do you ask for someone’s rank or title?” His voice was small, uncertain.

     “Most higher-ranked demons are either eccentric or high-minded; they won’t notice you unless someone introduces you.” Opera eyed Iruma’s chair for a second before placing a cushion behind Iruma. “If they know who you are, they’ll introduce themselves, but introducing yourself unprompted is considered rude. This, of course, assumes you’re attending a highbrow party or formal meeting.”

     “And outside of those places?” 

     “You should introduce yourself when prompted to. If the person’s title isn’t evident by then, then simply refer to them as they refer to themselves.” 

     Opera turned to the desk and began sorting through a small stack of children’s books—thin volumes with colorful illustrations, though each brimmed with surprisingly thorough information. “We’ll start from the bottom and work our way up,” they said. “That will be the foundation of your education.”

     Iruma nodded, watching the cat demon sort through the books. Opera stood up straight with a worksheet book in their hand.

     “You will fill in the answers you think you know and leave the rest blank,” Opera instructed, handing it over. Iruma accepted it carefully, then looked up, meeting their steady gaze. At Opera’s approving nod, he turned to the desk and began working. The approval steadied Iruma more than the cushion at his back. Iruma was never certain about much but now, maybe he can grow.

The cat slipped out silently. Their ears flicked once as they padded down the hall, pace quickening the closer they were to the study. Sullivan’s voice was already leaking through the door, cheerfully laced with venom.

     The door opened, the sound clawing at Opera's ears. Henri stepped out and froze when he saw Opera waiting in the hall, tail flicking like a challenge. The inspector took a moment to examine Opera’s body language; they were waiting. 

     “You are aware?” Henri asked, though certainty already hardened his eyes.

     “I made a deal.” Opera’s voice was as even as glass. It was their handiwork that had birthed this marvelous mess, and Opera savored the tension, tail swaying like a cat batting at a mouse.

“He can’t-” He cut himself short when Opera shifted, their stance widening just enough to press. The warning was silent, sharp as glass.

     “I already filed the paperwork,” Opera said, tail lashing. “So he already exists as a demon.”

     Henri’s lips thinned. “Paperwork can be undone.”

     “Not this.” Opera’s eyes locked onto his. “Not when it’s stamped with a Duke’s seal.” The cat could see the other stiffen, as if he was reminded this wasn’t a two-way conversation.

     “Oh! Imagine the scandal,” Sullivan crooned from within, stepping into view with a smile far too bright. “If a demon were to suddenly vanish, after joining a Duke’s household, no less. Mmm?” His whimsy curdled the air, heavier than his animosity.

     Henri’s throat bobbed, dry as ash.. “It isn’t safe. For him or for you, if anyone else uncovers this.”

     “How about this?” Sullivan clapped his hands together, as though struck with a delightful idea. “You come back tomorrow, yes? We’ll go over your little report, and then we can discuss this… in greater depth.”

     The inspector Demon swallowed hard, looking between the two demons. “Why?” Henri couldn’t ask for every why of this situation, but… 

     “That is a very good question!” The cheer in the old demon’s voice seemed even sharper, “I’m sure we can talk about it tomorrow!” Sullivan paused, looking Henri square in the eye. “Right?”

     Henri could feel pressure weighing down on him. It curled around Henri’s throat and pried at his mouth, demanding only one answer. The two demons stepped ever so slightly closer to Henri, pushing the pressure even more.

     “Very well.”