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Iruma's parents hated him, probably.
They never said this to him directly, but it was written in every other way they interacted with him. Parents who loved their son wouldn’t force him to live in a tent that was falling apart in the midst of sweltering summers, or work thirteen hours a day doing jobs he was definitely too young to do.
“We love you, Iruma!” they would say. “Thank you for helping!”
Iruma believed it until he didn't.
He never trusted easily, except when it came to his parents, so it took him a long time to realize how bad they really were. It's not like they ever hurt him, though they did scream at him when he messed up. But there was never any physical abuse, so therefore they must be good parents, right? After all, he'd heard horror stories of mothers and fathers who hit their kids, and Iruma knew his parents would never do that- they had to keep him mostly physically healthy so he could work for them- so they were good.
Still, even if Iruma considered them good parents, he was still hurt by their actions. Sometimes physically, like when he passed out from exhaustion or overheating or thirst. Mostly emotionally, though, when he looked at himself in the reflections of rivers and tried to stop himself from crying.
Iruma didn't like himself. He was never good enough. Not for his parents, not for the people he worked for, not for himself. He messed up, he made mistakes, and if his parents weren't around to punish him for it, he would punish himself, usually by working himself so hard he ended up not eating for days or lying outside in the freezing cold during winter.
So when his parents came to him one day and asked him if they could sell him to a demon, Iruma assumed it was just another punishment.
Was he surprised? Yes, but not for the reason you’d think. The thing that caught him off guard was that his parents were able to contact a demon in the first place. Iruma always believed in the religious and paranormal, and so did his parents. And since he was familiar with the concepts, he knew that summoning a demon was no easy feat. There were hundreds of factors and mistakes that could be made that it was near impossible for an ordinary human to do.
No, it did not surprise him that his parents would suggest selling him off. They’d already tried to sell him to a circus (one which didn’t accept him because he was too “normal” and wouldn’t attract enough customers) and to some shady guys with a lot of money they met on vacation (they decided against it last-minute because he apparently wasn’t worth enough money), so why wouldn’t they try this? Iruma wasn’t sure how rich demons were, but he was sure they’d be able to provide enough for his parents to get by.
So when they asked him to agree to selling his soul, Iruma said yes, like he always did.
(Actually, Iruma’s parents had already gone ahead and made the contract with the demon. Iruma wasn’t there to see it happen, since he was out working that night, but his parents told him that the demon would be coming to collect him at some point during the week. They gave him the rest of the week off, just in case the demon caused a scene in the workplace.)
Iruma didn’t know who the demon was. His parents hadn’t really told him anything, just that the demon was very powerful. He hoped, for his sake, that they were nice.
It was Friday night that Iruma was collected.
At the time, his parents were living in a dingy apartment home in a somewhat rough area of Osaka. Iruma spent most of the day working at a convenience store nearby. He was one of only two attendants, besides the manager- one for day shifts, and the other for night shifts. (Iruma was originally surprised that he didn’t have to work overnight, but no, nighttime was when sketchy people with lots of money roamed the streets, and it was Iruma’s job to sell whatever he could to them.)
In the evenings, when he wasn't working, Iruma liked to go up to the roof. Even though the apartments themselves were pretty run-down, the rooftop was quite nice. There were even a couple of raised garden beds- though most of the plants were dead since no one bothered to take care of them.
Iruma liked the night. It was always cool, even in the hottest summers. The moon was beautiful, especially when it was full, shining like a second sun through the dark sky. There were rarely stars because of the light pollution, but every once in a while, he could look up and see the faint glow of distant planets shimmering down at him.
So he spent his free evenings here, watching the clouds drift across the sky and listening to the faint sounds of the city.
“Beautiful night, huh, kid?”
Iruma turned his head away from the moon. A man stood next to him, a quite tall one with blond hair that stuck up like lightning. He held a cigarette between his fingers as he leaned against the railing.
“I don't think you're supposed to smoke up here,” Iruma said softly.
The man shrugged his shoulders. “The landlord's probably asleep,” he scoffed. “I'll be fine. You want a puff?”
Iruma tilted his head slightly. “Ah, no thank you, sir,” he muttered.
The man didn’t say anything more, but he didn’t move away, either. Iruma swallowed and tried to control his breathing. He’d run into too many bad people in his lifetime, ones that pretended to be nice- offering food, shelter, money- and then turned around to try to hurt him. Too many times he’d let a stranger in just for them to take everything he had, so the walls he built around himself were thick and high, a heavy metal door only his parents had the key to.
“You’re Iruma Suzuki, right?”
Iruma’s eyes snapped up. The man had turned around, leaning his back against the railing, looking down at Iruma. “I don’t know,” Iruma said firmly. “Can you tell me who you are first?”
The man chuckled, smoke leaving his mouth as he did so. “Damn, your mom and dad weren’t kidding when they said you were a tough one,” he said. Iruma clenched his fist tight, prepared to throw a punch if needed. How does he know my parents? “My name’s Baal. I’m here to pick you up.”
Pick him up? Iruma’s eyes widened, and he was suddenly very aware of how abnormally tall the man was, with dark silver rings pierced through his very pointy ears. “Are you… a demon?” Iruma asked quietly.
He- Baal, apparently- laughed. “Shit, you hadn’t noticed?” he mused. “Yeah, I am. The one your parents sold your ass to. C’mon, I was planning on getting back by midnight. Do you have anything you need to pack?”
Iruma’s brain stalled. When his parents had told him that his soul had been sold to a demon, he’d expected something a lot more monstrous. Bright red skin, glowing eyes, five times the size of Iruma himself, like the ones he always read about in folk tales. But Baal, besides being a little taller than average and having pointier ears, he looked like a normal guy. He was dressed normally, he even smoked- Iruma’s parents had said the demon he was sold to was very powerful, but Baal just looked like a human.
“No, I don’t,” replied Iruma. “Where are we going?”
“Back to my place. C’mere.” Baal reached his hand out, and Iruma shakily took it. When Baal grasped his hand, he felt some kind of energy flowing through him, almost like static electricity, and then suddenly, he was pulled into Baal’s arms and in the sky.
Okay, yeah, he was definitely a demon, because this guy had wings. Absolutely massive wings, a dark red like the color of freshly-spilled blood from a deep wound, extended from Baal's back and propelled him, and subsequently Iruma, through the night sky.
Iruma had never really been that afraid of heights- he'd spent days working on tall bridges over water, so he had to get used to it- but this was a bit much.
Baal was silent as he flew through the sky, and all Iruma could really do was shut his eyes and breathe. If he got his mind through the fear and the overall absurdity of the situation, he could recognize that this actually wasn't that bad. The cool wind blowing against his face and through his hair felt really nice. His heart pulsed with adrenaline, and when he got the courage to open his eyes and look down, he could see the entirety of Osaka from up here. It was a beautiful view.
At some point, the air changed. It no longer felt like the climate he’d grown accustomed to and found himself resenting, the endless humidity with occasional breezes blocked by the tallest buildings. Instead, the air felt warm and dry, like lying beside a fireplace after the rain. Iruma was sure he could smell woodsmoke as well.
Below them was a river, one whose lavender waters glimmered in the moonlight, emitting a soft glow. Blue and pink wildflowers adorned the green grass surrounding it. Iruma looked up at the sky they were flying through, and saw not one but two moons- one much smaller and a slightly different color than the other- perched high in the sky. The many stars in the sky framed their appearance like something out of a fantasy movie.
“This is the Netherworld,” Baal explained. “Humans have many names and interpretations for it. Hell, Tartarus, the abode of the damned. You were taught that it was all fire and brimstone and torture.” He made an expression like he’d tasted something sour and gestured to the land around him. “As you can see, it’s not really like that anymore.”
Baal was right. If anything, this place looked more like a version of heaven to Iruma. It was really beautiful here.
“I am one of the most important demons in the Netherworld,” said Baal. “Some think of me as a political figure, others as a monarch. Either way, thousands love me and fear me. Your parents lucked out, managing to summon someone as strong as I am.”
Iruma raised one of his eyebrows. “They didn’t mean to summon you?”
“Not me specifically. The runes and circle they drew up were just supposed to summon any demon with a high enough rank. You could’ve gotten stuck with some real idiots.” Baal’s wings retracted slightly, and he started angling his flight downwards. “That’s where we’re headed.”
Iruma followed the direction of Baal’s pointing finger to see an absolutely massive castle. Somehow, it had the same energy that Baal himself gave off- big and intimidating. This was a bit closer to what he imagined buildings in a dimension full of demons would look like. Thunder and lightning struck in the distance and Iruma started to feel like he would die the moment he entered the palace.
He and Baal landed on a large balcony attached to a room. Baal retracted his wings into his back and opened the door to the abode.
“Here we are,” he said, and Iruma hopped out of his arms and walked in. It was just a bedroom, but the sheer size of it made it feel like much more than that. Even so, based on the size of the rest of this castle, Iruma could tell this was one of the smaller rooms in the place. A queen-sized bed with silk sheets and a plush velvet blanket was pushed against the wall in a corner. There were even a couple of stuffed animals sitting on top of the pillows, one of a three-headed dog and the other of a bird with an especially long neck. “This’ll be your room.”
Iruma tentatively walked over to the bed and sat down. His butt sunk into the mattress and Iruma had half a mind to flop on his back and sleep right there, with Baal still standing in the middle of the room with his arms folded, since it was so comfortable and he was so tired. But he’d stayed awake for days on end before, a little longer wouldn’t be hard. “Thank you, sir,” Iruma said quietly.
There was silence as Iruma continued to survey the room from his bed. There wasn’t much else besides the bed in the room, save for a couple of bookshelves that weren’t fully stocked, a large armchair sitting next to them, and a small table for two by the window. The emptiness and little personality of the bedroom showed that it was just a guest room, but the fact that Baal had put plushes on Iruma’s bed let him know that he’d prepared for Iruma to be here. That would make sense, considering Baal had taken a couple days to come pick Iruma up.
“If I may ask,” Iruma chimed, his voice soft, “why did you choose to buy me?”
“Well, honestly, it's because I had money to spare and your parents seemed desperate,” Baal said with a slight scoff in his voice. “Devils, that apartment they summoned me in was a mess. Bottles of alcohol everywhere, trash overflowing, stains on the carpet. I’m surprised they didn’t get kicked out, that place stunk to high hell.”
That sounded about right.
“But honestly, I didn't think too far ahead after that. I would say I should eat you, but you're kinda skinny, and that doesn't always make for the best meal…”
“W-What?” Iruma's face blanched, eyes widening. “Eat me?”
Baal leaned against the wall in a way that was much too nonchalant for what he was talking about. “Human meat is considered a delicacy among demons in the Netherworld,” he explained. “It's not eaten much anymore, since Border Patrol has resolved to more tame ways of dealing with humans who find themselves in this dimension, but back in the glory days, if one of them somehow got down here, they'd either be messily devoured or served at a feast for high-ranking demons.” His face morphed into an unhappy grimace. “Though that time is long behind us. Most demons now believe humans are simply a myth, since any appearances of them are hidden by Border Patrol.”
Iruma looked down at himself, trying to steady his breath in light of the information that had just been shared with him. He had been hoping that little harm would come to him, and this demon seemed nice enough, hell, he'd taken time out of his day to set up a place for Iruma to live. But if his species was truly considered nothing more but food in the dimension he now lived in, Iruma may as well kiss his life goodbye.
“Please, don't eat me,” Iruma found himself pleading. “I can be useful. I can clean or cook and help around the house. I promise I'll make your purchase worth it.” Just don't kill me. Don't send me back.
Baal looked almost surprised at Iruma's words. He stepped off his spot leaning on the wall and moved to stand in front of Iruma. “Fine,” he said with a slight scoff, “I'll give you a chance. Prove to me that you're worth more than a meal, and I'll keep you alive.”
Iruma swallowed a lump in his throat. Baal was scary and powerful and huge, but Iruma had worked for many terrifying people in his life. People who had threatened to kill him if he messed up. This was no different.
Part of him screamed, all the way in the back of his mind, that this was a horrible idea.
But Iruma never despaired, even when tears streamed down his face. Even if his mind was in turmoil, his body would keep going, he would force it to.
So Iruma looked up at Baal with his head held high and said, “thank you. I promise you won't regret it.”
And just as Iruma had said, everything went fairly smoothly. At first, he started out doing similar things as what he had done when he was still living with his parents- mostly cooking and cleaning, or sometimes leaving the castle to run errands and get groceries or something. If Iruma was completely honest with himself, even if he was still doing generally the same type of thing, it was a lot better.
For one, Baal was strict, but he wasn’t like his parents, who would just force him to work non-stop until his bones ached. No, Baal was kinder (which truly says something that a demon would be nicer to him than his own family). He let Iruma take breaks if he got too tired, and he kept him fed and clothed and comfortable. And after a while, he kind of started to feel like an older brother figure to him, even sometimes taking time out of his day to teach Iruma about the Netherworld so he would have an easier time living in it as a human. He even gave Iruma a special kind of perfume so that he could leave the house without smelling like fresh-cooked meat (which was apparently what humans smelled like to demons).
And also, Iruma got to meet and hang out with other people for the first time in his life.
Baal had a little brother- well, Iruma found out that they weren’t actually related, they just thought of each other as siblings- named Kiriwo who was only a couple of years older than him. On one of Iruma’s days off (yes! He actually got days off!) Baal introduced the two of them, and they got along surprisingly well. Kiriwo also had shitty parents, ones that abused him and cast him aside because of how little magic he had, but then Baal took him in and helped him get stronger. Kind of similar to Iruma in that regard, too.
“You’re a human, right?” Kiriwo had asked him one day.
“Mhm. Why?”
“Well, aren’t humans s’posed to taste really good?” Iruma had heard that before, but he still didn’t entirely believe it. He licked his arm, it just tasted like sweat and skin, nothing delicious like how Baal had described. “Do ya think I could eat ya when you die? Like, I’m obviously not gonna hurt ya now, I just mean when ya die of old age, y’know?”
“Sure, if you want to,” Iruma had replied, but he wasn't sure why.
Kiriwo was kind of an oddball. But that was okay, because everyone who came by Baal’s castle was, too. There was a group of demons that frequented the place, but didn’t live there. Baal referred to them as the ‘Six Fingers’, and according to Kiriwo, they were a… well, to put it simply, a terrorist organization. Iruma didn’t really like the thought of that, but they were demons, after all. It was hard to judge them.
Once Iruma got used to being around all of these demons, Baal decided to include him into the things he planned. “Nearby, there’s a school called Babylus,” he explained. “It’s the very symbol of hierarchy and societal pressures and all that stupid shit. You two,” he motioned to Kiriwo and Iruma, “are gonna destroy it."
That didn’t seem very nice. Whatever, it’s not like Iruma had much of a choice in the matter. It was either this or be killed (or worse, sent back to the human world). And besides, Baal and Kiriwo and the Six Fingers were all bad people (demons, not people, gotta remember that), but they were nice. And Iruma would honestly rather be around nice bad people than mean good people. Like his parents.
The honor student, Alice Asmodeus, was terrifying. Iruma shifted uncomfortably in his seat the entire time he was speaking at the podium. Even with Kiriwo holding his hand to help with how scared he was, Iruma still shook with fear. Hell, all of the demons around him were terrifying.
Nevertheless, Iruma was placed in a normal class with normal demons who just sat and talked and did their work, just like humans did at school. Iruma didn’t talk to anyone besides the teachers. There was no point. They would all be destroyed soon if Baal’s plans went how they were supposed to go, whether Iruma liked this or not. He wished he could’ve been in Kiriwo’s class, since he was the only demon in this school Iruma trusted, but Kiriwo was two grades above him, so that was out of the question.
There were, however, still clubs- they called them Battlers here. “I’m in the Magical Apparatus Battler,” Kiriwo explained, leading Iruma into the club room. “I’m the only member, though. I mostly just tinker with random stuff- but this is the main thing I’ve been tryin’ to figure out.”
There was a huge machine in the middle of the room. “What’s this?” Iruma asked.
“Her name’s Gabuko. The School Destroyer. She’s gonna- well, destroy the school. As the name suggests. I’m not very creative.”
This still didn’t feel quite right. “Are you planning on, um, killing the demons too?” Iruma asked tentatively. “Or just blowing up the building…”
“Don’t tell me you’re gettin’ second thoughts,” Kiriwo said. “Nii-san ain’t gonna be happy if he hears that…”
“N-Not necessarily,” Iruma rushed to say. He trusted Baal, yeah, but he was still terrified of him. That demon could probably wipe him from this plane of existence with a simple snap of his manicured fingers if he wanted to. “Just… Well, I don’t know. Isn’t killing wrong?”
Kiriwo raised an eyebrow and folded his arms across his chest. Iruma felt judged. “Ya know, forcin’ your lil’ kid to work until he passes out is probably ‘wrong’ too.” Beads of sweat formed on Iruma’s forehead. “Ain’t that what your parents did?”
Iruma sighed. This wasn’t the first time Kiriwo or Baal or someone else brought up his childhood as a rebuttal to him being concerned about what they did. After all, and this was a flaw he recognized but refused to try and change, he still loved his parents. He knew they weren’t exactly winning any awards in parenting, but he’d always thought that as long as they didn’t hurt him physically, that made them good parents.
“Whatever,” Iruma mumbled. “Fine. So what’s the plan?”
“I’m gonna bring Gabuko up to a special place in the school- I’ll bring ya there another time- and work on a special kinda bomb usin’ fire powder. I just set it up right there, and it’ll explode on a timer!”
That honestly was kind of fascinating. Iruma had always liked machines and technology. After all, most modern things like cell phones or vacuum cleaners were out of the question for him to get his hands on. And he’d always had to repair his own appliances, so he learned how to fiddle with screws or twist wires until things started working.
“I’ll do it during the Battler Party,” Kiriwo continued. “Everyone in school’s gonna be in relatively the same place. But I’m gonna use my barrier magic to make a real big maze and lead everyone to the plaza, where I’ll set off the bomb.”
“What’s the Battler Party?” Iruma asked.
Kiriwo took a flyer out of his pocket and handed it to Iruma.
Babylus Demon School’s 13th annual Battler Party! Show off your Battlers! Play games! Win prizes!
“It’s a chance for Battlers to showcase what they’ve been doin’,” Kiriwo explained. “Usually the students’ parents come to see, too. There’s even prizes like rank-ups and new equipment. It’s kinda like a festival. There’s food stalls with all different kindsa stuff, and games like apple-bobbing and fishing and- oh, come on.”
Immediately after hearing ‘food stalls,’ Iruma’s eyes began to sparkle. “A-Are we participating?”
“Well, yeah, but… I’m kinda tryin’ to blow the place up.” Kiriwo sighed and leaned against Gabuko. “You can have fun for a little while, but Nii-san’s gonna want ya to help me get things set up.”
Iruma moved up to him. He grabbed Kiriwo’s arm and shook him a little. “Can’t we convince Baal to… um… not do this?” he asked softly. “Like… postpone it? Or even tell him to blow something else up?”
Kiriwo frowned. His lip trembled. “I dunno about that, Iruma-kun,” he said nervously. “Nii-san’s been plannin’ this for a while now. He ain’t gonna be very happy if we ask him to bail out. I doubt he’d even consider it for a second.”
“W-Well, what if we just don’t tell him!” Iruma replied quickly. “Like… we don’t use Gabuko, we don’t blow up the school, and we tell him something went wrong with the machine! And then he’ll just say, ‘damn it, let’s try something else.’”
“Have you met him?” Kiriwo scoffed. “Nii-san don’t take lightly to failures. We’d get our asses kicked.”
“I can handle it. I can handle anything!”
Kiriwo rolled his eyes and groaned. “Why are ya so damn adamant about us not blowin’ the place up at the party?” he complained. “Is it really ‘cause of the food stalls I mentioned? If it’s that important to ya, we can grab some snacks before we go set things up.”
Iruma hesitated. He watched Kiriwo’s expression. He looked angry, disappointed, confused. Iruma was pretty used to people looking at him like that. He slid down the wall and sat on the hardwood floor, folding his hands over his knees.
“I’ve never gotten a chance to do anything really fun before,” he said softly. Kiriwo sat down next to him, and Iruma averted his gaze, his expression darkening. “All I was able to do back at home was work and survive. There wasn’t any time for festivals or parties or games. I would work at some every so often, but that only made me feel worse, because I would see other kids my age going and having fun with their friends, while I was getting paid less than minimum wage to stand there and hand kebabs to people.
“That’s why I really want to do this,” he continued. “And it’s for you, too! Kiriwo-senpai, you told me that you also had a really hard childhood before Baal picked you up. Haven’t you ever wanted to go and do something fun like that? I know you’re all dark and evil and stuff, but surely even demons who’ve returned to origins can enjoy a festival.”
Kiriwo looked at Iruma with a blank stare. Well, it wasn’t entirely blank, more… contemplative. Like he was really considering what Iruma was saying. Iruma honestly hadn’t expected that from Kiriwo. It was surely a first for the human.
“If I tell Baal that the machine didn’t work,” Kiriwo said slowly, “he’ll probably be really angry. He’ll probably be upset. He might even hurt me.”
“I-I know, but-”
“Sure, let’s do it.”
Iruma blinked. “H-Huh?”
Kiriwo grinned at him. His sharp teeth sparkled in the sunlight peeking through the window of the Battler room. “Well, if we tell him his plan failed, he’ll despair, won’t he?” Kiriwo said. “If that’s the case, then I’m all for it. Baal don’t despair easily, but when he does, he makes the best faces! I really wanna see it!”
Of course. Iruma chuckled. “You’re crazy, Kiriwo-senpai.”
“And you ain’t crazy enough. That’s the problem.” Kiriwo ruffled his hair. “But I like hangin’ out with ya anyway. Sure, I’ll go to the festival with ya.”
Iruma smiled wide, a bright smile that made Kiriwo avert his eyes a little. “Thank you so much, Kiriwo-senpai!” he exclaimed. “I promise we’ll have lots and lots of fun! We can get meat skewers and ice cream and hot dogs and…”
As Iruma listed other kinds of foods that they definitely did not have in the Netherworld, Kiriwo sighed and leaned his head against the wall.
Iruma-kun, you’re gonna make all of us go soft, ain’t ya?