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Iruma gasped, catching his breath as he steadied himself in a field of flowers. Ameri was beside him, doing much the same. The dimension door they’d come through was nowhere to be seen, and the only evidence of its existence was the ringing finality of it slamming shut behind them.
Iruma had acted on instinct, back at the museum, asking Jazz to hand him the key, and following the strange desire that welled up inside of him, calling him to open the door and find whatever lay on the other side.
That feeling still tugged at him, stronger now than ever, that there was something important here for him.
“Ameri, I feel like… there’s something I need to do.”
“Of course!” Ameri replied. “I’ll assist you. Whatever it takes!” She stared at the portal into the human realm in apprehension, psyching herself up to leap through. Ameri stopped short when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked back to see Iruma smiling at her, indulgent but firm. How reliable of their student council president, he thought, willing to brave unknown realms alongside him on nothing more than a whim. “Stay here. I’ll need you to pull me back into this space if something goes wrong.”
Ameri hesitated, but stepped back with a nod. “Then… I’ll wait for you.”
His smile lifted into a smirk. They made this promise before, when he made it his goal to raise his rank to match her. This time, the promise would be fulfilled sooner rather than later.
“Like I said, I’ll catch up to you.” Iruma raised a hand in farewell as he stepped through the portal.
The human world welcomed him back with the eagerness of a demon-eating-snapple-whapple, and he shuddered slightly against the impression of being trapped here, lazily digested in a sickly sweet nectar.
It’s temporary, he reassured himself. He was here to investigate the pull on his heart, and he’d return to the netherworld as soon as possible.
Iruma walked calmly down the suburban sidewalk, taking in the ginkgo trees and powerlines, the bikes and occasional car, and all the mundane parts of Japan that he never thought he’d see again outside of Ameri’s contraband stash of human manga. A school had just let out, and Iruma let the chatter of everyday highschoolers wash over him. A cat yawned and leaned into a stretch from where it was perched on an overhang, and Iruma marveled over its lack of wings and horns. It really was amazing what you could get used to.
He pushed past the corner store he used to stock overnight for a few months in his pre-teens. That had been one of his safer part-time jobs, he recalled, until he was nearly crushed under the cargo of a failed pallet jack, and the owner grew enough of a conscience to patch him up and kick him out before the OSHA inspectors arrived.
Iruma made his way to the edge of town. The tree line of a forest greeted him, and his heart lurched with nostalgia. A few meters down the worn path was an abandoned shrine that he used for shelter once. He’d gotten rotten luck for the next two weeks until he could afford to leave an offering. Further in was the river he used to wash up in, and the cloth tent and the fire pit he fashioned to boil water and any vegetation that looked edible.
“Iruma!” He startled out of the memory as his name was called, and his eyes widened when he caught sight of his parents.
“It really is you!” His mother marveled. “It’s our sweet Iruma-kun, isn’t it? It’s been so long!” They rushed over to hug him, but he instinctively dodged, sidestepping out of the way.
“Mother. Father.” His voice was cool, but his heart pinched and sweat accumulated on the palms of his hands.
“What good timing! Can you be a dear and help your parents out? Now that you’re back, you can pick up a job, right? Oh, please Iruma? We’re in a bit of a pinch, so we’re begging you!”
“Why should I? Didn’t you get enough money from selling me?” He glowered, but his hand still reached out for the job listing. He was shaking. Iruma was distantly horrified to find himself slipping into old habits. Despite everything, the confident personality brought on by his evil cycle and the growing independence he’d worked so hard for in the netherworld, he crumpled and fell back under their thumb with so little resistance when they were face to face. After all, even in his wicked phase, Iruma could never say no.
“Haha, you’re so silly, Iruma! Acting like you could reject your parents like that! Still, what an unfilial child!” They laughed, even though Iruma knew it wasn’t a joke. “Even if you live in the netherworld now, you should still send money back home to us, don’t you think? We sold you to that rich demon, so he must be paying you well for all your services!”
Services? Is that what they expected? That if Iruma wasn’t killed outright, he’d become the demon’s paid servant? And expecting him to send imagined earnings to them across dimensions… wasn’t that too much? Iruma said nothing.
“Oh, but Iruma, sweetheart, isn’t there something… different about you?” Iruma stepped back, crossing his arms stiffly as his parents examined him. They circled like happy-go-lucky vultures, their eyes catching on his new accessories, obviously cataloging them for future reference. He felt apprehension creep through him. Would they ask him to give up his possessions? They had when he was younger. He always gave in back then, but this time he couldn’t allow it.
There was Ali-san, his partner who manifested in the magic ring that let him use mana, who saved his life countless times over. And his feather earring from Master Bachiko, a gift from his precious teacher and a token of the pride she had for him as her student. These were things he couldn’t give up no matter what. He just had to say no. His hands tightened on his jacket sleeves to stop the tremors. He had to say no.
“Pierced ears? Painted nails? Flashy jewelry?” His father tutted. “And that attitude!” His mother added, aghast.
“Ah, who would have thought?!” They cried. “Our good little Iruma’s turned into a delinquent!”
“Oh dear, though what can we expect, living among demons all this time?” His mother demurred. “Such nasty influences on our poor Iruma-darling! It’s about time we get him back on the straight and narrow, don’t you think?”
“Absolutely, dear! Iruma, if you’d please-” Iruma’s father brusqued forward.
“Don’t talk about them like that.” Iruma interrupted before his father could finish his sentence, not wanting to find out if he'd give in to whatever he was about to request.
“E-Excuse me?” Iruma's father sputtered.
“It’s rude to talk over your father like that, Iruma!” His mother crowed. “Oh, whatever happened to our sweet boy?”
Iruma ignored her, turning to face his father. “I said, don’t talk about them like that. The demons I’ve been living with, they're the best thing that’s ever happened to me. If you speak badly of them…” Iruma’s heart dropped to the pit of his stomach, even as he steeled his resolve. “I won’t help you anymore.” He lifted his chin, resisting the urge to break eye contact with his father. He refused. If it was for the sake of his friends and family, he wouldn’t stand down.
“Iruma!” They gaped at him. “What’s gotten into you?! You’re acting incorrigible! So rude and inconsiderate!”
“Really, what kind of example are you expecting to set for your little sister?” His mother scolded, and Iruma stopped in his tracks. What.
“My…sister?” He repeated blankly, a dark, indescribable feeling leaking into his voice.
“Our sweet little Iruyo-chan!” His mother cooed. She dug out a photograph and handed it to him. It featured the couple in an embrace, laughs immortalized as they loomed over a wide-eyed toddler. She was scraped up, staring despondently at a torn fishing line. Fishing hooks were stuck in both her clothes and skin, stray wire tangling mats into her deep blue hair. Iruyo-chan’s newest job! was scribbled at the bottom. Iruyo, spelled with the kanji for enter (same as his name) and the kanji for price or replace. Or maybe…
“...to be exchanged…?” He murmured aloud.
“Yes! Isn't it perfect?” His parents beamed at him. “When she gets old enough, we’ll exchange her for money, same as you!” They fussed at his school uniform, tugging at the high quality fabric. “It worked out so well for everyone last time, didn’t it?”
He thought he was angry when he realized how badly the misfit class was being treated, their classroom trashed and vandalised, his friends being targeted by vicious gossip. He thought he was angry when he figured out he’d been tricked by Jazz’s brother, goaded into discarding his morals when Jazz’s life was never in danger like he’d claimed. That was nothing in comparison to the rage he felt now.
“Are you-?!” he hissed, slapping their hands away from where they gripped at his sleeves. “Are you kidding?! How can you stand there and say something like that? Do you know how dangerous it is for a human in the netherworld? You don’t even know what I went through back then! How can you plan to do that to your own children? How can you give away your family like that?”
He never realized before, what a family was supposed to look like. Then grandpa adopted him and spoiled him rotten, and he got the chance to really know and trust Opera. He found a pseudo older brother in Jazz and a younger brother in Lied. He danced and shared a meal with Clara’s family, and had a heart-to-heart with Azz’s mom. He watched front and center how much Sabnock and Crocell supported their little sisters during the first year’s battler party. He saw so, so clearly how much Ameri’s dad cared about her and the lengths he would go to protect her happiness. Whatever he had with his parents, it was clear that they never treated him as family.
It was fine. It was fine that it happened to him. That way of life was in the past for him, so what was the point in agonizing over the what-ifs and could-have-beens. If his parents loved him, if he’d gone to school, if he’d grown up without a survivalist’s mentality, paranoia gnawing at his bones as surely as the hunger. It was okay that it happened to him. It was unforgivable that it was happening to a little sister he’s never met.
Magic at its basest form was something known as Desire. And in that second, Iruma’s deepest and most pressing Desire was for his parents to never hurt a child again.
Iruma’s mana surged around him, his bow forming wordlessly in his hands. Four arrows quivered as the string was pulled taunt, trained on his parents.
“The price you set on the lives of others…” A numb calmness spread through Iruma, easing the way for his fingers on the draw. “…be prepared to pay it with your own lives.”
“Iruma, please think this through! You’re not thinking clearly!”
“Iruma! Don’t do this! We’re- we’re begging you!”
Those words: Please, Help, I’m begging you. Those were words that Iruma could never ignore. Coming from his parents, who had just revealed their wicked plans for their daughter, Iruma’s little sister, somehow he was filled with rage so complete, it entirely eclipsed the urge to obey that was conditioned into him from a young age.
Iruma loosed the arrows, and they struck true.
“Ah, Iruma…” his father rasped, clutching his stomach. There was no blood, no remaining arrows or sign of external injury, but both of his parents lay crumpled on the ground. “What did you do?”
“It’s a curse.” Iruma murmured in surprise, and the certainty of that fact buzzed through him, the terms on the curse were written by the desire of his heart, given shape by his borrowed mana. “Every cent you make off of someone else’s work, every cut or scratch you leave on someone else’s back, every crumb of food you keep from someone starving. The helplessness, the pain, the hunger. You’ll feel it all ten times over.”
“Iruma…” They wheezed, and he stepped over them and into the forest, heart cold and calculating. If they were hurting right now, then it meant someone else was currently hurting by their hands. Someone he needed to find as soon as possible.
Iruma didn’t bother to turn around as he addressed them one last time. “Don’t approach me or my sister ever again.”
He didn’t need to look for long. There was a child, huddled under the makeshift tent he cobbled together years ago, arms wrapped tight to her knees. Holes littered the tarp where his patchwork failed. Her hands were grass-stained, and his stomach clenched, thinking back on the days where grass was the only thing he could get his hands on to ease the hunger pangs. It was a gut-wrenchingly familiar scene.
“Iruyo… isn’t it?” A toddler stared up at him, blue eyes wide. She was muddy and shivering. Her threadbare clothes did nothing to shield her from the autumn chill. “I’m here! Iru-yo, that’s me!” She echoed. Her blue hair fell sideways as she tilted her head at him. “Who are you, rich onii-san? What can I do for you?”
“I’m Iruma. Your brother.” Iruma introduced himself. He dug a bag of cookies out of his pocket and offered it over to her. He’d originally squirreled the cookies away to hide from the snack police (i.e. a Clara and Azz-kun who were worried about his tendency to overindulge), but Iruyo needed this so much more than him.
She took them shakily, sniffing suspiciously at one, before trying to stuff the entire bag’s worth into her mouth. “So good!!” She said, mouth full, and he smiled softly. She’d be saying that a lot more when she tried Opera’s cooking. Opera’s cooking… back in the netherworld. It was selfish of him. It was so selfish to want her, a human child, to follow him back to the netherworld, but what else could he do? This was his sister. “Will you come with me?” He asked.
Iruyo paused from where she was licking cookie dust off her fingers, nosing around the plastic for crumbs that were missed. “Ye-” she started to say, before trailing off. She looked at him wary and hopeful in equal measures, and Iruma’s heart broke in two. “…I… Can I say no?”
Iruma stamped down his desire to keep her close and replied flippantly. “Of course. Though… I can promise it’ll be better than this place.”
“Hmm,” she thought it over, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. “More cookies?”
That surprised a laugh out of him, though he should’ve expected as much from a sister of his. “Lots more.”
She eyed him carefully before nodding. “I’ll come.”
When he reached for her, she dodged out of the way. Ah, he thought, hands faltering. Overwhelming Crisis Evasion Capability. She has it too.
“Oh… sorry, onii-chan. I didn’t mean to…”
“Don’t apologize. I didn’t ask. Can I carry you?” She nodded again, and Iruma threw his jacket over her skinny shoulders before reaching for her a second time. This time she didn’t resist as he scooped her into his arms.
He walked brisquely back to the alley the portal had been, lightly bouncing Iruyo and telling her about grandpa, Opera, and all the delicious food she would get to try. She hummed as she dropped quickly into sleep, and Iruma was struck with the thought that they were alike in that way too.
When he slept, he was knocked out within seconds, his survival mode shutting down his body in an instant to ensure he got enough sleep in the precious little safe moments he could catch within the high stress environments he found himself in. It was why he often fell asleep on Azz and Clara after playing around with them. Sitting tucked beside them, feeling the unconditional love shored up between them as it washed over him… it was the safest feeling in the world.
He smiled down at Iruyo, happy that despite not knowing her for long, he could still act as that safe place for her.
“Ameri!” he called out. There was a stretch of silence, before he heard her.
“Iruma! This way!” Ameri signaled, and Iruyo jolted awake at the unfamiliar voice.
Ameri's hand reached through a previously invisible portal, and Iruma hesitated, staring down at Iruyo. There was no turning back after this.
“Iruyo.” The toddler startled when he addressed her, face grim. “Hold onto me and whatever happens, don’t let go.”
She nodded seriously and clung tightly. He took the jacket that was draped around her and used it to tie a makeshift sling, making sure it would securely keep her close to him and finally took hold of Ameri's hand.
Ameri tugged with all her might, and Iruma gritted his teeth against the sensation of being ripped away from the human world. The human world had just gotten him back in its clutches, and it seemed to be doing its best to keep him there. Still, Ameri's strength was nothing to sneeze at, and at last, he stumbled through the portal and into the field of flowers between dimensions.
Ameri caught her breath, hands braced on her knees. “It’s a good thing you showed up when you did. This place-” Ameri blinked, finally noticing the child strapped to Iruma.
Iruyo was craning her neck around, drinking in the sprawling sky and field of unfamiliar flowers. Her gaze snapped around when she noticed Ameri’s eyes on her.
“Woah, pretty onee-san.” Iruyo murmured before shyly tucking her head against Iruma’s chest.
“Iruma?? Who is-??”
“Iruyo, my sister.”
“Sister?! How…?”
Iruma shook his head. “Later.” he said, and Ameri’s mouth snapped shut. She cleared her throat and got back to business, like the reliable student council president she was.
“Right, well, this place… It’s becoming unstable.”
“Listen, Iruma,” she started hesitantly, “I looked around, but there isn’t an exit. We might not have a choice but to, ah, well…” she didn’t need to finish her thought, her gaze settling heavily on the portal to the human world.
“No.” He shook his head, more fervently than last time. He let his eyes sweep over the field of flowers, searching. There had to be something. He couldn’t leave everyone in the netherworld behind just like that.
The world wavered and dipped around them.
“Onii-chan… what’s happening…?” He ran a hand along the top of her head, murmuring reassurances to soothe her nerves. Iruyo…That’s right. He needed to calm down and prioritize. Just like the teacher-student battle exam, his priority was to protect.
Still, he hated this. His skin crawled at the thought of going back to the human world for an extended period of time, but he couldn’t put another person’s life on the line like this.
Clara… Azz… They had promised, themselves and each other, that if Devi-forbid Iruma disappeared, they would search for him together. Every nook and cranny, every mountain and ravine, any place across the known realms, they would find a way to bring him home.
If nothing else, Clara and Azz would find him. They were soulmates. It was an undeniable truth that they would find their way back to each other, especially if they were up against impossible odds. Impossible odds were where the misfits thrived, after all.
The human world wasn’t ideal, but he made it to the netherworld from there before, hadn’t he? From there, he would have a chance to get back. This sub-world, however… It was going to dissipate sooner than later, and there was nothing they could do trapped in a dimensional rift.
That’s right. Going back to the human world wasn’t admitting defeat. If there was a way back to the netherworld, he’d sink his teeth into the possibility and never let go.
Iruma’s eyes raked over the landscape one last time before turning to nod at Ameri. He stared into the portal, dread making room for determination. “If there’s really no other way, then let’s-”
“Iruma! Can you hear me?” Iruma straightened up, breath stuttering as a familiar voice sounded in his head.
“Master Bachiko.” Iruma exhaled in relief and Ameri snapped to attention. “The world is destabilizing. Can you help?”
“On it, I’m coming to get ya!” Bachiko bit out around the pokki stick in her mouth. Iruma could feel her mana shifting with the connection, drawing back in preparation to launch an arrow across the widening rift in dimensions.
Strike true, he thought with a smile, though he knew it was an unnecessary wish. She was locked onto their signatures now, and Master Bachiko never missed a mark.
Ameri, Iruma, and Iruyo waited in tense silence. The world was flickering in shorter intervals, and Iruyo’s little fingers dug tighter into his shirt.
A crack split through the artificial sky. Iruma grinned as a blonde demon stepped through, widening the fracture in reality created by the arrow strike.
“Sorry I’m late!” The demon sang out. “Now let’s get you home!”
“Mephisto-san.” Iruma flashed a sincere smile at the demon that oversaw his promotion to rank 5.5 and Mephisto smiled smugly back at him. His expression faltered when he looked curiously at the child clinging to Iruma, but he shook his head amusedly and herded them onto Master Bachiko’s guiding arrow.
“Never a dull moment with you, is there, kid?” he mused.
Iruma was only just making headway on the arrow's path when Japanese started filling his ears, the idle conversations ringing like a death toll. He…was being pulled back. The human world sunk its claws into him, dragging him off of master Bachiko’s arrow, out of Mephisto and Ameri’s reach. Iruma struggled against the pull, desperation making his movements frantic and shaky.
It was taking him back now?! When he was so close to home, so close to getting back to everyone. He couldn’t- Iruma choked, air refusing to co-operate with his lungs. He couldn’t- He wouldn’t-
“Iruma.” The Spector of Ali-San appeared in front of him, gaunt and lacking his usual form from lack of mana, and snapped him out of his panic.
“I can help you channel one last spell.” Ali-San rasped. “Just think back on your ambition. Magic is desire, after all.” And in that moment, Iruma had desire in spades.
“Lay it all bare.” Ali-San instructed. “Your greed, your shame…your most selfish desires.”
Back when he first summoned his bow, what was his ambition? What did he desire most? Back then, he desperately wanted to be strong for everyone. He wanted to be able to stay with them despite the danger. He wanted to protect and cherish the things he cared about and become someone who could exceed everyone’s expectations. Iruma clutched tightly to the little girl in his hands, and his ambition was renewed stronger than ever.
“I want… I WANT TO BE A HERO!” Iruma snarled into the void, daring it to drag him back. He thought of his family who saved him, who loved and supported him despite everything. He thought of his friends, his classmates and mentors, who cherished and pushed him to accomplish the impossible, and Iruma knew to the depths of his being that in his heart, “hero” was synonymous with “demon”.
You already know the incantation. A voice whispered in the back of his mind, and Iruma didn’t waste a second more.
“Loki.” Iruma whispered, and the mana he received from Ali-San rushed to obey.
Wings burst from Iruma’s back, and he beat them against the forces dragging him back. He lifted his chin in determination, the horns crowning his head and tail lashing behind him acting as a physical manifestation of his resolve. He reached for Ameri, for master Bachiko’s arrow, and the human world’s vice on him snapped away. He was going home. A grin pulled at Iruma’s lips, fangs on full display.
Iruyo stared wide-eyed at her brother, reaching out to catch stray feathers from Iruma’s wings.
“An angel?” She gasped, and if Iruma had the presence of mind, he would have laughed himself sick.
They collapsed onto the ground, the door slamming shut behind them.
“We’re home,” Iruma breathed, so full of relief that he felt giddy.
The peace did not last. The museum-goers swarmed around them, intent to know what happened, and what they saw on the other side. Demon Border control members pushed to the front, demanding an explanation.
Everyone was shouting, firing questions that made Iruma’s head spin on top of the exhaustion that pulled on his bones. One question, however, made Iruma’s hair stand on end.
“Is that… a child? From a different realm?”
Iruma felt their attention on Iruyo and something feral reared up inside him. He secured his jacket more tightly over her, and hoped to Devi that his lingering scent-masking cologne would hide her humanity.
“Iruma-san.” A border patrol member stepped forward. “Please hand over the child. She’s from beyond the door, isn’t she?”
Without meaning to, a low growl came from his throat and he bared his teeth at the demon, fangs still sharp and wild from his transformation. His tail lashed back and forth, and his wing feathers fluffed up as they twitched erratically, torn between shielding his sister and snapping out at the guard.
“Stay back.” Ameri stepped between them, arm raised protectively in front of Iruma, though she was shaking from head to toe. Exhaustion, mana drain, adrenaline, fear. Ameri must be feeling all of these things, but she still found the strength to stand in Iruma’s defense.
And he trusted her to. Ameri… She always stood by him.
Slowly and then all at once, the transformation spell fell away. Iruma felt a wave of dizziness sweep over him, but he stayed on his feet.
Ameri warily watched his detransformation from the corner of her eye, her ears flicking back in concern. He tiredly nodded at her and she returned her full attention to the guards who had been steadily creeping closer. “You’re not touching them.” She hissed out.
“Too right.” Azazel Henri stepped through the hoard of demons.
“Dad!” Ameri rasped in relief. Iruma spotted his grandfather approaching and similarly relaxed.
“Grandpa…” he breathed out.
Distantly, Iruma watched as the crowd parted for the high ranking demons. Grandpa was here. Grandpa would fix this. Iruma’s feet acted on their own accord, carrying him to stand in front of the demon. Sullivan opened his arms, and Iruma couldn’t stop himself from falling into them.
Tears fell onto the chair-demon’s cloak, and Iruma started to shake as his Grandpa ran a comforting hand through his hair, rubbing circles into his back. Iruma sniffed, throat constricting.
Ah… Iruma realized. At some point, his evil cycle must’ve ended.
He couldn’t help it as the tears fell more heavily and sniffles turned into shaky gasps of air, lungs stuttering in delayed panic as he thought back on everything that happened. He could've died in between dimensions, could’ve been separated from grandpa and the people he loved forever.
And the things he did in the human world! What kind of son cursed his own parents? Why was he so ready to put an arrow through them, when he thought it would kill them instead? Weren’t they right about him turning into some horrible delinquent? He really was a selfish, despicable person. And dragging Iruyo, his own baby sister into danger after their first meeting…wasn’t that unforgivable?
Azazel Henri spoke up from where he was supporting his daughter. “As you can see, these are minors that just went through a trying ordeal. They’ll be returned to their guardians, who will relay their statements to border patrol as necessary.”
“But the child-!”
Lord Sullivan flared his wings, and the protests cut off before they could gain any more steam. Mana leaked into his response as he replied. “Until an explanation is acquired, it will be handled as I see fit. I’ll be taking them home now.”
Iruma clutched tighter to his grandpa, so, so thankful, and not knowing how to express it. Grandpa gathered him up in his arms, and with a generous beat of his wings, they were home bound. Iruyo watched him silently, cocooned safely in his lap. She leaned into him, wrapping her little arms around him in a hug.
“Onii-chan, don’t be sad!” She whispered loudly, in the way all kids thought they were being subtle. “Be happy! Because I’m here, Iru-yo!”
Despite himself, Iruma let out a watery laugh and spoke back to her in Japanese. “I’m happy. I’m happy you’re here, Iruyo-chan. A-and I’m-” Iruma swallowed back the lump in his throat. “I’m so s-sorry. It’ll be dangerous for you here, but I was still selfish and brought you back with me.”
Iruyo shifted uncomfortably, most likely thinking back on the warped reality between dimensions, the strange looking people, the scary, incomprehensible new language, and the crowd that tried to pry her away. It must have scared her. It scared him. “…that’s okay.” She ended up saying. “Onii-chan asked and I said I’d come with him. You’re here and I’m here, so… it’s okay now!”
Iruma took in the blue of her eyes and the curl of her hair, so similar to his own, and made her a promise in his head. She’ll never endure another second trapped under someone else’s thumb. She’ll never go hungry or want for a home. She’ll get to go to school and have the opportunity to make friends she can rely on. Here, with him, she’ll be so unbelievably loved.
“Yeah.” Iruma agreed. “It’s okay now.”