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"Take this! Ultra supersonic punch!"
Flashing colors zoomed across the television screen, strategic lines imitating motion as a large-eyed character with a shock of pink hair barreled towards a villain in a hood. Exagerated infernal echoed through Leviathan's bedroom, not quite in sync with the movements of the protagonist's mouth as it bounced off ceiling tile and aquarium glass.
Leviathan eyed the tank, but the concern that such a loud shout would shatter the glass petered out when he remembered that it had withstood Zaramela's whistle tone on the latest Sucre Frenzy album. If it hadn't cracked during her chart-topping solo, then the structural integrity was sound enough for a mid-tier anime.
"No! She beat me down with a single spell! I…I can't go on!" The main character was on the ground now, the very earth beneath him shattered like ice on a thawing pond.
"I'm going to bet that he can actually go on," a voice sounded to Levi's right.
He glanced up from the fabric pooling in his lap to grin at Ri—his best friend, his Henry— in all their glory, perched upon the ottoman next to his tub, eyes fixed to the climax of the episode like they were emotionally invested in the lackluster storytelling. Their spell book sat open on their thighs, and Levi smiled softly when he caught sight of all the notes inked into the margins. He considered that Ri could absolutely wield their magic better than the protagonist of the show.
As Levi's attention returned to the black material in his hands, his needle carefully sewing together stitches that had been snipped for the removal of excess fabric, a flashback lit his seascape room in a sepia glow.
"Ryoku!" The protagonist's best friend sobbed, seated beneath an awning as heavy rain overwhelmed the sound mix.
Levi stifled a snort, then glanced over to Ri. They rolled their eyes, their cheeks in their palms and their elbow on their knees. Shifting on the carpet in front of the television, Levi tried to push away the thought that they looked awfully pretty in the glow of the screen.
"I can't give up! I promised Sera that I'd win for him!" The pink-haired guy was pulling himself up now, magic flaring around his fists as he reminded himself, "I promised Sera he could smile again!"
And as the episode ended on a cliff hanger, a moody black and white animation dancing beneath superimposed credits, Ri decided, "The story really doesn't live up to the hype."
Levi nodded vigorously, throwing his hands up with an enthusiastic, "Right? Like, yes, the animation is god-tier but the narrative isn't anything realm-shattering." Black thread tightened the seam of his cosplay, fixed to the needle he dramatically waved through the air.
Ri hummed their aggreance, uncrossing their legs and stretching like a cat in the sun. The slid off the ottoman—making themselves comfy on the carpet next to Levi—and tapped away on their D.D.D., humor dancing in the differing green hues of their hazel eyes.
Levi pointedly avoided looking at their screen, that familiar bubbling in his gut taunting that his messages likely didn't amuse Ri as much as Mammon's, or Solomon's. His were all about video games, or anime, or if Ri wanted to watch the next Chocolate Heartbreak livestream. How boring.
It was silent for a moment, save for the static hum of the televsion and the bubbling of the aquarium. Levi watched the kelp sway in the artificial current, wondering when he last changed the filter. Orange scales shimmered in the blue glow of the water as Henry 2.0 swam from an overturned ship (a repurposed figurine from a mecha anime that ended a century ago) to a fish-sized cave in the porous stone that decorated the tank. He seemed chipper enough.
Once again, Levi felt that lurch in his stomach. Even his fish had more confidence than he did.
There he sat, on the carpet of his room—decorated to the nines with carefully curated otaku wares, as if he had to wear his identity on his sleeve lest he forget himself—taking in the sides of a cosplay the he hadn't worn since…
Actually, it was his first cosplay, wasn't it? He had made it after jumping down the rabbit hole that was the TSL universe. He had wanted to be the Lord of Shadow, so he had bought some material online and set to learning how to sew. It was the first time a character had resonated so deeply within the marrow of his bones, the first time he considered boosting his self-esteem by pretending to be somebody else.
Anybody else.
He had gotten plenty of use out of the costume, though most of the wear was kept within the confines of his room. His haven, where he could be himself, free of judgment. Though, he had retired it within the last few years. It no longer fit as snug as it was supposed to, and he had ventured into making many more cosplays, now that Ri had come along and expressed an interest in joining him at conventions, many of which were new to the decade following the spread of otaku culture in the Devildom.
It was Ri that brought up cosplaying as the Lord of Shadow and Henry in the first place, and how could Levi have said no to that! So, he had dug the old cosplay out of the back of his closet and set to rework it to fit his current size. The excess fabric that he had needed to snip from the sides turned his insides to toxic mush, a strange tango of shame and pride creeping up his spine.
His stomach rumbled. For a moment, he cringed, wondering if the trip down memory lane triggered a pang of hunger before a glance at his computer screensaver told him it was nearing dinner hour. He actively shoved the desire to grab some snacks from the secret stash in his room. He was doing well lately; partaking in dinner conversation and eating balanced meals. It was so much easier to be around his brothers when Ri was there, as well.
Even if the ease at which they got along with everyone had him feeling on the outs. For a while, Levi knew he ranked higher than Belphie in Ri's heart, but now… even his little brother could make Ri laugh with all their chest.
Levi mentally swatted himself. He shouldn't complain, nor should he compare himself to others. Ri wouldn't want him to do that, and if he was being honest, Ri was the reason everything was getting better, weren't they? Though, they would never agree to such a claim…
"We're still going to tune in next week though, aren't we?" Ri asked after a while, pocketing their D.D.D. and shooting Levi a wry smile.
He tried to ignore the tremble of his fingers as he poked the needle through the fabric once more, forcing a laugh. He had intended for it to sound assured, but it came off far more constipated as it rang in the air. He cleared his throat. "O-of course!"
"We have to see Ryoku overcome Irina with the power of friendship!" Ri cheered, and maybe Levi was overanalyzing it, but he swore there was something solemn in their voice.
Before Levi could ask if they were okay, Ri leaned back on their hands, watching the reflection of the waves undulate upon the ceiling as they inquired, "I wonder when friendship became the ultimate motivator in media."
This time, Levi's laugh was genuine. So genuine, that he slipped his focus and stabbed his finger with the needle.
Ri made quick work of snatching his ever-so-wounded hand from beneath the cosplay, of lifting his punctured index finger to their lips and just barely grazing the skin. Levi's heart skipped a beat as the warmth of their breath ghosted over his fingertip, an ache with which he was well-acquainted. As their glasses flashed in the glow of the jellyfish lanterns above, highlighting the gooey kindness within hazel eyes, Levi trampled down the love confession that threatened to ooze from his throat. He replaced it with a sheepish yelp and a nervous chuckle.
The curiosity in Ri's gaze had him shrinking in on himself. Gah, they were so cool and sweet and patient and oh, he would never be good enough for them.
But Ri knew how to pull him out of his shell, and just as they always did, they dangled a hook before him. "Why was that funny?"
"Uh, it's just that friendship has always been a prevalent theme in fiction," Levi bit like a fish snapping at a worm.
So, Ri reeled him in. "Oh yeah? Tell me more."
And so began the internal tug of war that Levi loved to hate and hated to love. The words bubbled up from his chest, burst in his throat and spilled over his tongue before he could stop himself, "Er, well, it's a huge part of the Epic of Gilgamesh, you know, which is the first preserved piece of literature from the human realm. The whole driving force for Gilgamesh's quest to find immortality is Enkidu's death! The story wouldn't be nearly as effective without the bond forged between the two, as Enkidu is the one who humanizes Gilgamesh and forces his character development."
"You see it in all kinds of human media. From as early as Homer's works to more modern fiction, like the trio from Harrison Porter, or Hemlock Holmes and Dr. Poison! Writers wax poetic about the importance of friendship all the time. I mean, even Christopher Peuge—Er, I mean Simeon-I-guess utilizes friendship as a pillar theme in TSL! " Levi rambled, the tips of his claws meeting in a steady, rhythmic tap and his eyes averted to just over Ri's head.
By the time the last word rang in the quiet of his room, he was too afraid to meet their gaze.
Angels above, he was such a loser. The pride that thrummed beneath his words died instantly as the familiar (read: irrational, and he knew it) fear that Ri would find his knowledge worthless reared its head.
"Wow," they breathed, and when Levi finally made eye contact, he was met with big, awestruck eyes and what he could have sworn was a pink flush to their cheeks. "I didn't know you knew so much about classic literature!"
"Uh, who do you think gave Satan his first book?" He squeaked, an internal sigh soothing his insides, a cool balm on the angry, raw emotions. Right. Ri was kind. Ri was his Henry. Ri actually kind of liked him.
The euphoria at the realization never got old, a hit of endorphins that had him moving his cosplay off his lap, had him shuffling to his feet and clapping his hands in excitement. "Oh! I actually… er, I think? I'm pretty sure I had one of the original pieces of the Epic of Gilgamesh. Do…Do you wanna see?"
Ri tucked their spell book under their arm, eyes so wide with excitement that Levi could clearly see the subtle heterochromia that tinted their irises. "Of course I do! Let's go!"
Levi barely even uttered the word "attic" before Ri was at his back, pushing Levi out of his room and down the hall. Levi took care not to get caught up in the enthusiasm, not to race ahead and alienate Ri with his inhuman speed. Instead, he kept his pace steady and casual, matching each stride at their pace as they hurried up the stairs to the House of Lamentation's storage space/cell.
A shudder ran down Ri's spine as they crossed the threshold, past the lattice door and the cobwebs draping like velvet curtains. Levi didn't miss the way their chin tucked towards the gnarled floorboard, the way their lips wobbled and their hands clenched into fists.
Levi ducked around their frozen frame, peering beneath faded red hair to meet the glare from Ri's glasses. The reflection of the glass obstructed the glimmer of their eyes that he loved so much, and despite the disappointment sitting sour on his tongue, he offered, "Um, we can leave, if you want."
Like a switch had been flipped, Ri's spine straightened, their lenses flashing as a smile pulled at their lips. "Hm? Of course not!" They hesitated, "It's just… been a while since I've been up here."
Levi felt it better not to address the elephant in the room. Instead, he hurried towards the stack of large plastic bins in the far corner, color-coordinated containers sitting beyond a cavalry of cardboard boxes and a vanguard of antiques. Levi felt his finned ears flex nervously, the flap of butterfly wings, as Ri's hazel eyes slid towards the circular mattress as if they could still make out a familiar imprint in the mattress.
But then, Ri clapped their hands, tugging an old Devildom globe from the base of the memory mountain. "You have globes, too. That's neat." They pressed the large continent that spanned the majority of the surface, triggering a projection of the realm's topography. "Oooo, cool."
With a shrug, Levi began shuffling about the containers, shifting the green bin with a stripe of opaque tape labelled SATAN onto Belphegor's purple bin. He huffed as the air was punched from his lungs—what was Satan storing in this thing to make it so heavy?!
"What's this?" Ri piped up, pointing at a handheld harp leaning against a yellow bin covered in caution tape—Mammon likely overcompensating for the sentimental objects carefully wrapped in his memory box.
"Asmo's," Levi grunted, hauling his big orange container off of the royal blue one labelled LUCIFER.
He was so immersed in peeling the lid from his trove of treasures, eyes scanning the various first edition novels and manga for the block of terracotta cuneiform he was certain he had wrapped in a damp towel, that he hardly heard Ri coo behind him.
"This is so sweet," they beamed, affection warm in their gaze as they lifted a wooden frame from Lucifer's box, the lid slightly askew.
Levi gulped, fear propelling his heart into his throat. Each step to Ri's side felt as though his feet were sinking through the attic floor to his certain grave. Oh, what photo were they looking at? It was baby Levi in Mammon's arms, wasn't it? Or awkward, gangly teen Levi hugging Lucifer, for sure. How embarrassing.
But when he peered over Ri's shoulder, the photograph practically glowing beneath a pristine sheet of glass, his stomach dropped. It was so much worse than baby Levi.
It was a family photo from the Celestial Realm. Right before the Fall.
Lucifer stood in the center, the slightest smile cracking through his exasperated veneer. His twelve wings were extended in all their pearly glory, beckoning the surrounding angels closer despite the resignation he tried so hard to emote. Simeon and Mammon flanked him, halos so bright the camera failed to accurately capture the curves of light, a misshapen glow above each head of fluffy hair and feathered ears. Asmodeus posed at Lucifer's feet—Belphegor's head in his lap and his manicured fingers combing through midnight blue hair—and Beelzebub towered over his older brothers, the hunch to his shoulders giving away his uncomfortable crouch to fit his large frame in the photo. To Simeon's right was Raphael, smiling brighter than Levi had seen in years, and there next to him… Leviathan, himself.
The quiet happiness in his past self's eyes was not reciprocated by the viewer, a lump forming in Levi's throat as he took in his soldier-straight spine, his unmarked arms, his trim musculature. Though his shoulders were broad, wider than the feathered span of his ears, his build was far…smaller than he had grown accustomed to, now.
The version of himself in the picture wore no fangs. No heavy, serpentine tail. No dark, curling horns or scales spattered like acne over his skin. No gills, no scars, no extra weight.
Had he really fallen so far?
"This is such a good photo," Ri was praising, though their words barely touched the whirlpool spiraling in Levi's brain. "How did Lucifer get it?"
"Simeon, probably," Levi muttered, but the words held no weight upon his tongue. He felt numb, a stone sinking into the depths of a bottomless sea trench, drifting out of reach from the rays of sunlight filtering through the shallows.
"Why is it packed away?" Ri's words rang in Levi's ears, distorted and distant. He was too weak, too heavy to swim to the surface. All he could do was fall, fall, fall.
"Can I put this in my room?" Ri asked, and that was what snapped Levi back to reality. He started at them, aghast, as they smiled at the photo, something too warm in the set of their lips.
"NO!" Levi blurted, the embarrassment tinting his face a vibrant red when he realized he had just yelled in Ri's face. He recoiled, palms hiding his expression from the confused, and mildly hurt glimmer in Ri's eyes.
And Ri—with all the grace of a literal angel—did not shout out in return, did not turn defensive or abruptly storm away from Levi. No, they lowered the photo back into the bin and took his hands, carefully squeezing his fingers where they tapered into indigo claws. "What's going on in your head?" They prodded, the shock from Levi's outburst melting into patient concern.
"I…" His tongue disobeyed his intention, skipping like a flawed record. "I-I-I… I… Ugh."
He winced, clinging to Ri's hands as though they were a lifeline. He could feel their pulse through their skin—so soft and thin and fragile, and yet stronger than Levi's glass heart. It confused him to no end why Ri would even touch him right now, right after they had seen the depth of what he had become.
What he had done to himself.
"It's okay," Ri encouraged, and though they kept their expression neutral, warmth spewed from their gentle gaze. "Take your time."
He took a deep breath, internally bid farewell to any relationship he had developed with Ri, and lamented, "I got fat."
"Hm?" It seemed Ri was unable to prevent the lance of surprise from crackling over their face. They frowned, cocking their head in question, dyed hair swaying around their shoulders with the movement.
All Levi could manage was a sigh, "Look at the photo. Then look at me now."
"Ah," they whistled low and slow, a cute furrow to their brow beneath their bangs as they pouted, "Why does it matter?"
And her question had him remembering to swim. Deep in that trench, he kicked his feet and struggled for control of his limbs. An alien sensation, he asked himself their question again and tried to pick at that itch in the back of his mind, that voice that hissed that—even though he wasn't at his largest at this point in time—he would never be good enough.
"I just… don't want you to think less of me," the truth tore from his throat like a cathartic scream.
Ri blinked slowly, their slightly different colored eyes disappearing for a single second. Levi's gaze darted away. It was like an eclipse, he dare not stare at the way their lashes dusted their cheeks.
Then, Ri whispered, "Why would I ever think that?"
"B-because I let myself go!" The dam had burst, there was no sealing it up now. "I was built to be a warrior, and now i'm just a…gross, ugly, useless otaku."
"You're not useless." Another squeeze of his hands. Ri spoke softly, each word heavily steeped with intention.
"I am! I'm an out of shape loser," Levi wailed, moisture clinging to his lashes and threatening to spill down his cheeks. His stupid, chubby cheeks with spots of scales and scars. "I'm the guy in the chair, the character that no one ever writes smut about!"
"You know that's not true." It was a gentle chide, Ri lifting the side of her mouth in a half-smile. "Besides, that character archetype is extremely important. Do you really think the heroes could be half as successful without a prized strategist in their ear?"
Levi shook his head, his ears flapping against his skull. "I haven't been a strategist in millenia."
"Your raid partners would say otherwise." The purse of Ri's lips was playful.
When Levi's shoulders slumped further, when his heart hovered in the middle of the sea—just out of the light but prevented from sinking back into the dark crevasse below—Ri took a different approach.
"Look, I understand," they breathed slowly, and when they squeezed his fingers, he had the sense that it was partially for themself, too. "It's hard to look back on a version of yourself that you consider to be better physically than your current form. I mean, I hate old photos of me. But it's important to consider all that encompases you, now."
It was their vulnerability that spurred Levi to listen. "W-what do you mean?"
"If you hadn't fallen, would you ever have thrown yourself into literature, and theatre, and the painful humanity of the arts? Would you ever have manipulated water and talked to sea creatures? Would you ever have introduced me to the Tale of the Seven Lords, actively changing my life for the better?"
And he was swimming again, fighting against the weight of his past to breach the shallows, to breach the surface. Suddenly, his heart no longer weighed more than he could carry, no longer weighed too much to hand to someone else.
"I… I wouldn't even know you." He yelped, his gasp accented by the flail of his arms as he wrenched away from Ri's grasp. He gripped their shoulders, shaking them lightly. "I wouldn't know you! Oh Ri, that would be awful! The worst gacha pull I can think of!"
Maybe it was the sensation of being aggressively rattled, but Ri laughed. It was an honest sound, as bright as the chime of a bell. They leaned in, slipped beneath Levi's touch and wrapped their arms around his middle in a warm embrace.
"Bubble, I like the way you look." They smiled into the fabric of his shirt, their words pressed to the flesh over his collarbone. "I like your finned ears and your scattered scales and your scars and your tummy. Because you're you. You're my best friend. I'd love you even if you were a six thousand pound sea beast."
He carefully splayed his palms over their spine, letting the last of his worries permeate the air around them. "What if I am?"
"Then I'll lean against your side and read to you whenever you wish." It was a chuckle muffled by clothing. Ri rocked backwards, putting some space between the two of them to smile up at Levi, pride glowing behind their glasses. "What's important to me is that you're feeling well enough to take care of yourself. You're working on your sleep schedule, you're making an effort to leave your room, you're eating properly. You are meeting your body's needs."
Levi worried his bottom lip. "But what if… what if I can't keep that up?"
"Then I'll be here to help take care of you," Ri soothed like it was the most obvious answer in the world. "You're not alone. You were never alone. You are loved, Levi, no matter what."
His chest tightened, tears leaking over lids to lubricate the shimmering scales that dotted his face. But though he cried, he felt lighter than ever before, felt an acceptance that he had never thought to gift himself. There, with Ri leaning into him and their arms stretched around his middle, he felt safe. He felt wanted.
He felt enough.
Then, as Ri sighed in his hold, his stomach rumbled. This time, he didn't berate himself for the natural sensation, the clock having chimed dinner hour not so long ago. Instead, he chuckled, hoping it was Satan on cooking duty. His meals were the most balanced.
A desire sparked in the pleasure centers of his brain. He couldn't wait to talk to Satan about friendship as a theme in media across the table. He'd have a lot to tell Ri, too, Levi was sure. Maybe Belphie could tell them about a constellation based off friendship, too.
Ri must have noticed the way his spine straightened ever so slightly, his excited intake of breath. They patted him on the back, stepped away from the embrace, and extended a hand.
"Now, let's go get dinner." They encouraged, "Together, alright?"