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Chapter Text

Suzuki Iruma wouldn’t say he was necessarily touch-starved, he just occasionally and randomly goes to Balam for his "regularly scheduled human health check-ups,” meant to mark his growth and progress. A check-up, in which, Balam would easily get a tad distracted and go from checking in to just petting Iruma. Or how he always allowed Clara to glomp onto him because he "couldn’t stop her from doing so," and "it’s always best to prepare for the inevitable." Nor did he even find most of Lord Sullivan’s antics annoying, nor did he particularly dislike how his adoptive grandfather spoiled him - personal embarrassment notwithstanding.

No, Suzuki Iruma wouldn’t say he’s touch-starved, but others could make a compelling case that he’s compensating for the years he had lived with a lack of genuine affection. For as long as Iruma could remember, it wouldn’t be uncommon for his parents to wash or sanitize their hands after patting his head when he was younger. He always said it was probably due to the lice and fleas he got the first time he lived in the forest, but even after that, they seemed relieved to not be touching him. They at least had the courtesy not to wear gloves after Iruma asked them not to as they always tugged on his hair.

While typically caught off guard, Iruma tends to never deny any form of physical affection once received. A curious observation that one student of the Misfit Class seemed to pocket as he watched Iruma silently reveling in the gentle pat on the shoulder that one of the janitorial staff had given to thank Iruma. He further noted how Iruma’s eyes seemed to dim as if filled with a sort of longing as the janitor pulled his hand away.

With his recent development and participation, Purson Soi’s habit of randomly spying on the boys in the class had increased dramatically. And only the boys, it would be wrong of him to spy on the girls in the class after all. An unintended consequence was that he got the first scoop on dramatic developments, like Allocer’s Sabbath. Now, Purson had noticed and had begun to make mental notes regarding their resident glutton.

Seeing Iruma beam a bright smile as he was later joined by Asmodeus and Clara, the trio soon left school to go home together. Observing, like a bat fluttering about in the dark, Purson thought about potentially asking Iruma why he always seemed to lean into every pat, hug, or caress. Ultimately, Purson decided to table the discussion for a later date and looked forward to seeing his friend and classmate in class the next day.

Or so he believed.

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The next morning, Purson Soi woke up late, later than he had meant to, and was now going to be late to school. He raced as he changed into his uniform and had to skip breakfast before flying to Babyls. “I can’t believe I’m going to be late. Kalego-sensei is going to yell at me. That’s so scary, I hate it when he yells. Maybe I should skip. No, I won’t be able to talk to Iruma-kun if I skip.” he rambled as he flew, landing and ending up as one of the last demons to enter the school before being late. He activated his detection warding and made his way to his classroom.

Upon entering Royal One, Purson immediately recognized something was amiss with the rest of the Misfits. A strange sort of gloom seemed to have befallen the class, Purson, not entirely understanding why, stealthily took his seat as always and reappeared in his seat. Had Kalego-sensei told them they were going to be kicked out? No, as the doors were still free of the locks and chains that previously adorned and kept the once-prohibited classroom sealed. It seemed to be a different type of melancholy altogether.

It was then that Purson realized that Iruma was out. How had he forgotten such an integral part of the class? He looked all about him and frowned deeply before using his detection-warding to approach Clara and Asmodeus. He appeared to them and pointed to the empty spot between them, “Asmodeus-kun, Valac-san, Where’s Iruma-kun?”

Upon hearing his question, Asmodeus and Clara’s eyes welled up with tears as Asmodeus clenched his fist and slammed it on the desk, startling Purson and a few of the other Misfits, “It’s due to my lack of diligence as Iruma-sama’s soulmate that he is out sick with a cold!” Clara looked absolutely crushed at the statement of her favorite person being absent at the present moment.

The news was rather shocking as, despite his unhealthy snacking habits, Iruma was as healthy as the next demon at his age. The detection-warding demon felt as if there was more to it, “Asmodeus-kun, did something happen with Iruma-kun?” As he asked that question, Purson realized that he shouldn’t have said anything at all as Asmodeus looked as though he had just watched his whole family die.

Asmodeus composed himself and nodded, “Turns out he was sick since yesterday and was pushing himself all this morning. I had noticed he was walking at a slower pace but I-'' he stopped and Jazz approached Purson to finish the story while Sabnock went to console his classmate and sibling disciple.

“Thing is, we had a rare day and all arrived at the school gate at the same time. It was pretty lively and we were all pretty immersed in our conversations that we failed to notice when Iruma-kun seemed to stop. When Asmodeus went to look back at him, Iruma-kun fainted.” Jazz finished and Purson felt shame for asking Asmodeus and Clara about what happened. Before he could get too deep into his shame and sorrow for his insensitivity, Kalego entered.

Immediately he frowned, which was soon turned into a small grin. “It’s good to see you all can be silent,” he said before realizing something was wrong, not a single cry or shout of indignation, the silence wasn’t due to fear or respect, but shock and solemnity. He fixed his glare on Jazz, “Explain what happened,” he said immediately.

While Jazz explained what happened, Purson felt slightly better that Kalego had taken the heat from off of him and had no issues with being enemy number one. Surprising everyone, Kalego was silent after hearing what had occurred. “I see,” he said simply as he crossed his arms and brought his fist to his chin, he thought deeply and his scowl seemed to deepen as he realized that while he appreciated his class being silent, this level of silence was deeply concerning.

While it wasn’t exactly rare for demons to get sick, what humans considered a common cold would take a few weeks for a demon to recover from. Exerting yourself while sick was already unnatural as demons are more self-centered and would take however much time they need to get well instead of doing something so reckless. Even worse is that fainting from sickness was incredibly rare and horrifying as only the terminally ill would faint as Iruma did.

As if to rescue Kalego from any further scorn, Balam popped in and waved at the class as he greeted his schoolmate and friend. “Regarding Iruma-kun’s situation,” the tension in the room worsened as the Misfits readied for the worst. Balam, as if predicting it, raised a hand as if to reassure the class, “he’s currently stable and is resting in the infirmary and will stay there until he can be retrieved by Opera-san. So if you wish to visit when you have time, you can.” He thanked Kalego for the time and waved goodbye to everyone before heading back out.

The silence extended again as it seemed that everyone, Kalego included, felt relief that Iruma’s absence wasn’t permanent. Feeling the anxiety of the room, and from himself as well, Kalego approached the podium and looked out at all of the students of the Misfits class before clearing his throat harshly. The sound made them all flinch before Kalego narrowed his eyes at all of them, “Since it seems like you all will be restless if you are left alone, we will stand up and leave in a silent and orderly manner to visit Iruma-kun.” The Misfits gasped with excitement and Kalego felt his irritation tick up as he clicked his tongue and made his way to the back of the class, his students following him in a single-file line, silent and respectful. Were it not for the shocking circumstances, Kalego would venture to allow himself to feel a small bit of pride at just how well-behaved the Misfit class was at the moment.

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Reaching the infirmary, Kalego, and the Misfits were shocked to find the Student Council President, Azazel Ameri, sitting silently watching Iruma, his hand in hers while she wore a saddened expression. Looking up at the class, she simply put a finger to her lips and returned his hand to his side then she stood to excuse herself. “Try not to wake him, he’s in a bit of a sensitive place now.” She warned as she left. The rest of the Misfits internalized the advice, their slight concern was now an overwhelming sense of worry and they all hoped that they could be of some comfort to their incredibly sick friend.

Iruma, the reason for the visit, was asleep and a range of muted reactions was uttered. Most of the class was relieved and a bit disappointed they couldn’t just start talking with Iruma. Surprising everyone, Iruma awoke and saw his classmates. Rather than joy or relief, Iruma felt shame that they were all here. Swallowing felt painful as he felt his migraine throb at his temples, an incessant need to cough plagued his chest and lower throat as he tried to clear his throat before wincing. He felt delirious and incredibly feverish, his face felt hot and even the cold strip on his forehead wasn't helping.

The amount of pain that Iruma seemed to be in, made the rest of the Misfits wince. Before anyone could genuinely react, Asmodeus and Clara charged to be at Iruma’s side, and seeing their hands extending towards him made Iruma panic, memories of the disgusted looks in his parents' eyes and on their faces flashed to the forefront of his mind and his body reacted instinctively. He flinched away and the two stopped as he pulled his blanket over his head, “Don’t touch me!” The cry made everyone else freeze more than his flinching away did.

“I’m sick and you’ll need to wash your hands if you touch me,” he said, tears threatening to spill as he felt a cough replace a sob as he managed to recompose himself, “I’ll just get you all sick if you touch me. I’d rather you not,” he said as coughs escaped him. The Misfits couldn’t tell whether those were sobs or genuine coughs. Asmodeus and Clara slumped, devastation on their faces as they thought back to any time when they might have made Iruma feel unwanted. Nothing came to mind but they wondered if they had truly been superficial, lacking even as Iruma’s soulmates.

Kalego frowned deeply, knowing better than to question and possibly further upset the terribly sick student, Kalego told the class that they had a lot of material to cover and if they continued to waste time that they would be swamped with homework. The fear of doing homework until the sun rose made most of the class shape up and ready to follow Kalego out of the infirmary, “Asmodeus-san, Valac-san, you’ll get detention if you dawdle,” he said, which managed to encourage the two and he led the class out of the infirmary and back to Royal One. Ever vigilant, Naberius Kalego had intentionally overlooked one student and judged that if they could bring back any decent evidence, Kalego would allow them off with only a lunch detention.

Iruma hated that he was sick, and hated feeling so weak. Every time he was sick his parents always seemed to look at him with so much revulsion and loathing as if they had to stoop so far beneath themselves to watch over him. Each time he had to call in sick, the same disappointed and annoyed tone from his employers would always make him cringe as they managed to guilt him into coming to work regardless of how awful he felt.

No matter who it was, the adults in his life never seemed to understand why they had to care for something so needy and they all believed they could do something so much more with their time than watching over a sick child. None of that was lost on Iruma, as dense as he is, they had made it blatantly apparent that they had expected more from him. None of them were there when he lay in agony from having to force himself to eat rotten meat or risk starvation, they weren’t there whenever he had to bandage himself anytime his Overwhelming Crisis Evasion Capability didn’t kick in exactly when it needed to. They only truly seemed to care when he would pass out, but even then they would complain and say he was attention-seeking.

The least they could’ve done was at least show a little bit of real love.

Now, completely alone with only his thoughts, Iruma began to sob softly apologizing to each and every member of the Misfits class, to Ameri, to Kalego, and finally. “I’m sorry, Azz-kun, Clara. I don’t want you to look at me like they did.” he confessed between sobs. He muttered each apology under his breath, just in case anybody walked in. Iruma slowly pulled the pillow from under his head into his arms as he squeezed it tightly as tears streaked silently down his cheeks. He felt his consciousness begin to wane as the exhaustion and pain from his throat, head, and chest began to carry him to sleep. “I just want someone to hold me,” Iruma sniffled softly and closed his eyes, allowing sleep to take over finally.

Chapter Text

Unease.

Unease and fear are what the human student felt as he woke up and prepared to get ready for school after his absence for the past week. While most of his symptoms were gone, he was still congested and carried a couple of packs of tissues with him just in case. While he was physically ready for school, he wasn’t all there emotionally. He had no idea how he was going to broach what he said or how he acted that day. His entire class was there for him and wanted to see how he was doing and he essentially told them all that what they had done was unwanted.

As much as he wanted to be touched and held, he was glad that Opera’s professionalism won out as Iruma didn’t think he could handle anything more than someone he saw as mostly professional, which meant that Opera had effectively banned Lord Sullivan from seeing his grandson most of the time. Now that he was better, Lord Sullivan was insistent on wanting to hold Iruma, an idea Iruma loved but Opera shot down, citing the lack of time before Asmodeus and Clara came to pick him up.

Iruma had let them know last night that his condition had improved and that he was cleared by Opera to go to school the next day. The message was met by the pair spamming his phone with congratulations and stickers carrying the relief and joy they felt. As much as he wanted to feel the same, Iruma felt his stomach knot and flip in on itself as he waited for Asmodeus and Clara to call out for him as they always did. It was only when Iruma looked like he was going to make himself sick again when he felt a gentle and reassuring hand on his shoulder. Looking up to his grandpa, Lord Sullivan offered a gentle smile, “Iruma-kun," Lord Sullivan soothed, "Asmodeus-kun and Valac-san are your friends, right?” he asked to which he was met with a slow nod, “Whatever happened between you will be resolved, just make sure you apologize properly,” the Tet (9) ranked demon advised.

Upon hearing the call from his friends, Iruma wore a determined look and nodded as he stood up, “I will. Thank you, Grandpa,” he said as he smiled up at his grandpa and felt his palms become sweaty as he thought about hugging him before quickly abandoning the idea. He excused himself, took his school bag from Opera, and left with a wave to Opera and Lord Sullivan as he ran to join his friends just as he did before his sickness. He slowed as he saw his two soulmates and wondered as to why he thought they felt different. It felt as if they knew something intimate and sensitive about him. The fear he felt from before crept its way back into the pit of his stomach.

As he reached his friends, Clara cocked her head at him, “Are you feeling better, Iruma-chi?” She asked as she seemed less touchy than she typically was. With his one source of regular and constant touch seemingly gone, the possibility of feeding his seemingly endless need for physical affection looked bleak, and Iruma seemed to genuinely dampen.
“Yes, although I’m still a bit congested-” he was cut off as, not only Clara but Asmodeus, as well, threw themselves at Iruma and hugged him tightly. Confusion and then alarm filled Iruma as he saw that both of his soulmates were on the verge of tears and were already sniffling. “Azz-kun! Clara! What’s wrong?”

His question was met by both parties squeezing Iruma as Asmodeus bawled into his shoulder and Clara had enough of a hold of her emotions to speak for the both of them, “Iruma-chi, idiot!” She cried and buried her face into his abdomen. While he didn’t wish for them to be crying, Iruma felt the care and love they genuinely felt for him and the revelation made him tear up as well. Not wanting to end up also a blubbering mess on account of his running nose, Iruma sniffled and held the two people he held dearest to his heart closer to him. Asmodeus was able to recompose himself yet didn’t change where he was. “Iruma-sama, while we are glad to see you in good health, you shouldn’t push yourself when you’re sick!” Asmodeus chastised, which Clara joined by adding another “Iruma-chi, idiot!” Asmodeus didn’t risk speaking anymore as he was convinced he would burst into tears once again. Iruma had offered both of them tissues from his new pack, which they gratefully accepted.

Iruma had known not to push himself while he was sick, yet his desire to please everyone and to see his friends overcame his common sense. Iruma nodded and once Clara and Asmodeus looked at their friend, Iruma was slowly pulling away from them and, reading his intent, the duo let go of him. Iruma knelt and bowed to them in a dogeza position. Shock filled the two and they tried to retort but he was already speaking before they could tell him to stand.
“Azz-kun, Clara, I’m sorry for my behavior when you and the class came to visit me after I fainted! I wasn’t thinking straight and mistook you for some people who mistreated me for a long time. Please forgive me!” He said as he pressed his forehead to the dirt and stayed there, he didn’t even move when he heard Asmodeus approach him.

“Iruma-sama?” Asmodeus asked as he placed a hand on his shoulder, “Can you sit up?” he asked softly to which Iruma twitched slightly and nodded. He slowly straightened his back as he looked up at his first real friend and felt his long arms wrap over one arm and under the other. Iruma gasped softly as Asmodeus hugged him, it had been one that he had so desperately longed for, one where he could almost feel his friend’s heartbeat.

“I forgive you Iruma-sama. As for those who had mistreated you, shall I burn them to ashes?”

“I appreciate the offer Azz-kun, but I think they’re a bit too far away for you to reach,” Iruma said as he just allowed himself to be more selfish with his friend’s embrace.

Iruma felt someone tap his shoulder and, for once, felt grateful to see the carriage was ready for the three of them. With a gentle push, Iruma and Asmodeus released one another from their shared embrace, and the trio was escorted into the carriage. For some inexplicable reason, Clara looked like some pleased older sister than the over-the-top goofball Iruma was so used to seeing. Her lack of a random and sudden hug did make him feel mournful, but after having apologized to the two of them, he felt a small burden lift off of his shoulders.

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Once the carriage had stopped and the Iruma Corps stepped out, Opera rolled the carpet out again and announced Iruma’s arrival and recovery. Iruma felt incredibly flustered as he exited with his two closest people. He thanked Opera and Sullivan in a sheepish tone as he kept his head down, his cheeks a deep red from all of the attention garnered from the sudden announcement. Naturally, a large crowd had formed around Iruma, Asmodeus, and Clara as all of the demons remarked how glad they were to see him again. Asmodeus and Clara became his security detail and managed to help him make his way out from the center of the crowd as he did his best to talk to and thank his fellow students for the well wishes.

Arriving at Royal One, Clara nodded at Asmodeus who nodded back and went on ahead. Iruma felt very confused about why Asmodeus was leaving them and why Clara seemed to have a secret signal with Asmodeus in the first place. He wouldn’t be able to ask as Clara took Iruma’s arm and led him into one of the many groves in front of the Royal One. Going in deep enough to still have privacy yet not so far in to inhibit their ability to run to the classroom if necessary.

Forcing Iruma to sit, Clara sat down and smiled in that way he had only seen a few times before as if he was truly special to her. “Iruma-chi,” she called in the same way she did the other times she would tell him something that would make him blush. She spread her arms out and smiled as she hugged him over his shoulders and Iruma wrapped his arms around her in response. The hug felt entirely different and yet familiar at the same time, there was an underlying sincerity or truth in this embrace which conveyed one simple truth; Clara loved Iruma. To this extent Iruma felt unsure, however, he felt it correct to identify it as love.

Just as Iruma had done with Asmodeus’ embrace earlier, he allowed himself to be avaricious enough to feel this special type of love seep into him, just as he did when he focused on Asmodeus’ heartbeat. Finally pulling away, Clara placed her hands in his and cocked her head, “Do you feel a bit better, Iruma-chi?” the Valac asked and was met with a smile that reached his eyes.

“I do! Thank you, Clara!” He said as he failed to notice the demoness in front of him, blushing deeply as she felt her heart skip a beat at the sight of his smile. The bell rang, announcing that class was about to start in five minutes, and the two out were snapped out of their stupor as Iruma’s eyes widened, “Let’s go, Clara!” He said as he stood suddenly then offered his hand to his soulmate and ran hand in hand with her to Royal One. As Iruma sat, Asmodeus immediately scooted closer to Iruma as Clara did the same.

Jazz turned, hearing Iruma and Clara enter, and beamed excitedly at the sight of Iruma, “Iruma! Welcome back!” He said which caused the entirety of the Misfit class to grin like mad. Unbeknownst to Iruma, the class all felt a thinly veiled excitement as the code phrase for the commencement of their secret plan: “Operation: Welcome Back to Demon School! Iruma-kun!” A plot, in which every member of the Misfits class, and a few other key people, would effectively shower Iruma with the love only friends could. The operation was planned to last one school week, five whole days dedicated to showing Iruma that he truly mattered to all of them.

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To see where they had come up with such an operation we need to rewind a bit, to after the day when the Misfits and Kalego had left Iruma:
As they exited the infirmary, Kalego kept a mental tally of all of the students and, once he believed everyone was back in line and following him, began to walk back to Royal One. It didn’t take long for the Guard Dog of Babyls to recognize some abnormal movement within the line. At a glance, Naberius Kalego knew and had chosen to intentionally overlook one Purson Soi, who was using his detection-warding abilities to sneak back into the infirmary. Despite it being directly against what he said, Kalego decided that if Purson could bring back any decent evidence, Kalego would allow him off with only a lunch detention.

Immediately, Purson felt guilty and like he should leave when he heard Iruma begin to sob softly, he was never really good with these things. ‘Now would be the best time to leave,’ he thought but felt something tug on his consciousness and he wondered whether or not he should stay or go. Ultimately, Purson decided that, even if he was invisible, his friend needed him. Silently, he padded over to his friend and sat beside him. Only then was it that he was finally able to catch that Iruma had been apologizing under each sob. “I’m sorry, Azz-kun, Clara. I just don’t want you to look at me like they did.” he said as he sobbed, “Why can’t anyone just…hold me?” Purson watched in stunned silence as Iruma sniffled and sobbed softly for a while before drifting off to sleep.

Swallowing thickly, as if he had just watched something he shouldn’t have seen or heard, Purson wondered who exactly “they” were and where exactly “they” garnered the audacity to dare to treat the heart and soul of the Misfits class in such a way to leave him as he was. Forgoing the fact that he didn’t have the answers to any of his questions, he resolved that he would ensure that Iruma would have his deepest wish fulfilled many times over. As he went to open the door, he stole one last glance at Iruma, the one who pulled him out of his shell and broke his family tradition of being unknown, the Iruma who pulled their class out of the dumps and into Royal One, the one who had done everything for them yet asked for nothing more in return. Purson had a lot he had to be grateful to Iruma for and swore to himself to answer this one desperate plea. Purson turned to the door and steeled himself to tell everyone just what happened.

The Misfits all had different variations of shock or dejection after hearing Purson’s report. Feeling responsible for the negative mood, Purson simply wanted to disappear but was soon grounded when Jazz put a hand on his shoulder. The big brother of the Misfits offered an easy smile as he handed Purson’s wallet back to him and then leaned down a little as if what he was going to say was to stay between the two of them only.

“Thanks, Purson-kun. We wouldn’t have known this without you,” he said as he gently squeezed Purson’s shoulder and looked up at the rest of the class. Discussion soon broke out about how to help fulfill Iruma’s wish. The familiar joviality as they started to bounce off each other’s ideas and comments made the class feel alive again as they plotted how to best welcome back their friend. From the door, a certain red-haired demoness walked briskly away after wanting to observe the Misfit class.

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As Iruma was currently, and pleasantly, sandwiched between his two soulmates, he felt his hellphone buzz. He was pleasantly surprised to discover a text from Ameri, bidding him to come to the student council room after school. Seeing the text, Clara hissed like a cat as she ranted about how “Makka-chan” was going to steal Iruma away from her. With a slightly exasperated chuckle, Iruma soothed Clara by patting her head.

The rest of the day felt like Iruma was finally having his fill of physical touch, he felt whole and warm most of the day, and as the day came to a close, like his insatiable hunger, his need for positive, physical affection grew, and grew until it felt like it was howling, demanding to be fed. Iruma cringed as he recognized just how selfish he felt, shame filling the pit of his stomach as he chastised himself for wanting more than he had already received. After all, he was fairly certain this was the most he had been touched this affectionately in his whole life.

Knocking on the large, wooden doors, the strong yet feminine voice of the student council president was clear through the door. Pushing the door open and stepping through, Iruma admired how professional Ameri looked as she sat behind her desk. Always the one pushing him to greater heights and becoming a greater demon. Iruma had a lot to be grateful to her for, yet there was something more than gratuity that Iruma felt which made him want to be so much closer to her than he already was. The thought of what it could be made him blush, but he pushed that thought down for later.

As Ameri watched Iruma curiously, a smile appeared on her face, “Welcome back, Iruma-kun,” she greeted, to which Iruma seemed to snap out of whatever internal debate he was having then greeted her politely. She crossed one leg over the other and rested her hands on her knee, “Did you have a good first day back, Iruma-kun?” she asked, to which he smiled and nodded as he answered and went on about his day and how much he enjoyed being around the Misfits again and patching things up with Asmodeus and Clara.

Nodding sagely, Ameri stood and walked over to Iruma, the human apparently not noticing the demoness’ movements until she knelt before him before she wrapped her arms over his shoulders, and pulled him into her. He stopped speaking abruptly and his face heated a deep scarlet before hearing Ameri speaking. “I’m glad you were able to recover and make up with your friends Iruma-kun.” She said as she pulled away and gently squeezed his upper arms, “As a reward, I’ll allow you to tell me whatever you desire.”

Iruma balled his fists as he felt tears well in his eyes again, “If you’ll let me be selfish again,” he said before hugging her again, Ameri smiled as she held the boy she loved in her arms. For a while the two stayed as they were, both on the floor, simply holding each other as they both had allowed themselves to indulge in their wants. Iruma felt the familiar warmth from Ameri as he did when Clara hugged him, it was yet again similar but different. Ameri felt herself wanting to pout as Iruma pulled away from her, he looked guilty and melancholic, which alarmed the president.

Tears trickled down once again and Iruma felt a supportive hand on his back. It was then that he managed to pull himself together and speak, “Is this okay? I’m already so selfish, can I want more?” he asked as he looked up at her and was only greeted with a tender smile.

“Is that your ambition?” The question didn’t stop the tears, but he nodded and felt himself be pulled in once again to her chest as she hummed softly, “Then I will help you fulfill your ambition.”

As Iruma finally gave in and allowed himself to have what he wanted and as Ameri enjoyed the simple joy of being able to further support and hug the one she loved most, neither party would see Astaroth Smoke taking pictures of the two through the cracked open door. And as Astaroth piled on as much blackmail and evidence, she wouldn’t notice one specific blonde demoness who was witnessing her two crushes holding each other and was taking pictures of her own with her camera for an entirely different reason altogether.

Chapter Text

Getting to school the day after Iruma had spent the whole day being sandwiched and having his heart feel so full with gratuity and love, Iruma felt a little saddened that he wouldn’t receive that warmth and love. After all, there was no need to spoil a recovered child regardless of his emotional wounds. Those were things he could handle on his own, or so he thought but recent events had called into question his ability to properly manage and control his ability to keep his emotions in check. A soft sigh escaped him before he heard a familiar voice, “Why the long face, Lil’ Iru?” Iruma started and Alkired put up his hands in mock surrender as Iruma caught his breath.

“Well, you see…” Iruma said as he explained his situation and feelings of gratuity and love, but also guilt for being so indulgent and so insatiable with his need for touch. He balled his hands into fists as he spoke and kept his eyes downcast, “As bad as I feel, there’s an inexplicable part of me that just wants what I felt yesterday and to feel it every day. I got all of it yesterday, so I should be fine now, right? So why do I still want to be held so badly?” Iruma asked, wondering if he was just overly extending this or is now part of a long recovery process to heal from the emotional neglect he faced before being sold to Lord Sullivan.

Alikred nodded as Iruma spoke and once the blue-haired boy was done, he cocked his head and shrugged, “So what’s the issue with being a little more greedy? From all I’ve seen and heard from you Lil’ Iru, I think you can be as selfish as you want when it comes to this,” he said. Seeing the disagreement on Iruma’s face made Alikred a little annoyed. It was his finest piece of advice and Iruma didn’t seem to want to take it. Besides, he knew that even if Iruma didn’t want to take the initiative and be selfish, he was going to drown in all of the love and affection his classmates were going to dump on him in the following week.

As Iruma was about to argue Alikred’s point, Opera’s voice called for him, telling him that breakfast was ready for him. Iruma tabled the discussion for a later date and made his way out of his room and down to the dining room to be met by Lord Sullivan and Opera. Lord Sullivan waved and greeted Iruma affectionately - just as he always did - while Opera seemed especially excited to see him walking about if their ears perking up higher was anything to go by. It made sense, even though Opera had known Iruma was sick, all of the things Iruma said while delirious and battling an illness that would be lethal to most demons made Opera incredibly worried for their young master. It was also due to all of what Opera had overheard that they had banned Lord Sullivan from entering, a fact that Iruma didn’t know nor would Opera let become common knowledge.

As Iruma was on his last dish, he heard the familiar call of a combined “Iruma” before it tapered into the individual “-sama” and “-chi” endings. Iruma was soon out the door and waving goodbye to Opera and Lord Sullivan to meet his two closest friends and begin their routine walk to school. Passing demons would note how refreshing it was to see the Iruma Corps walking again and expressing their relief that Iruma was back.

During the entire week, Iruma was absent, the whole school of Babyls hadn’t had a single memorable or notable thing occur, something practically unheard of since the first day of school. The relative normalcy that the school should have been in was instead replaced by a longing for the dramatic and exciting student whose sole desire was to not stand out. The well-behaved classes and less dramatic exchanges reached even the faculty, who also seemed put off by the silence.

Seeing Iruma walk through the gates of Babyls, walking, talking and laughing, and just being healthy was a relief to many demons in the school. However, only a select few would make their relief and joy known to him. Even as Iruma had both of his soulmates flanking him, he had a broad and glad smile, one which the other demons seemed to have missed on some fundamental level.

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As the trio approached Royal One, Jazz waited for the three of them with Lied and the two greeted the group as they approached. “Hey, Iruma-kun! Glad to see you’re totally back,” Jazz said, and as Iruma was about to reply sheepishly, he immediately recognized the two missing people from his sides and instead felt an arm wrap around his shoulders and pull him from a side hug to a full hug.

“I’m really glad to see you well again, Iruma,” he said as he then pulled away and frowned, “That doesn’t mean you should make it a habit of getting sick and passing out on us like that! Seriously!” Jazz scolded as he pulled Iruma in to give him a light noogie.

Iruma yelped softly out of surprise yet had begun to laugh as Jazz noogied him, and even after as Jazz let him go. The fond smile on Jazz’s face as his hand mussed Iruma’s hair made Iruma recognize that Jazz truly acted like an older brother. Jazz had stopped ruffling his hair, a slightly shocked expression on his face as Iruma looked at him puzzled, then recognized he had said his thoughts about Jazz out loud.

The shock became a broad grin as he wrapped his arm around his shoulder and reached into his pocket to give Iruma some of his favorite snacks. “Don’t tell Asmodeus where you got this, he’ll burn me alive,” Jazz said as he spoiled Iruma and walked into the classroom with his arms still around his classmate's shoulders. Iruma smiled fondly as his jacket pockets were now overstuffed with all of Iruma’s favorite snacks and his heart felt full of the brotherly kindness and love that only Jazz seemed to offer as the Misfit’s surrogate older brother.

Iruma was then placed to sit with Jazz and Lied instead of Asmodeus and Clara this time. As shocking as it was, Iruma was even more shocked to see the disappointment and sadness from those he had deemed to be his soulmates was at least somewhat manageable. He didn’t understand why this was happening, but he didn’t really mind the change at all and felt a little concerned for Asmodeus and Clara.

Iruma had found it surprisingly fun to study with Jazz and Lied, especially since Jazz would occasionally spoil Iruma more, typically by ruffling his hair, and would get reprimanded by Kalego for screwing around. Lied kept quiet, but seemed to be eagerly awaiting their upcoming lunch break, much to Iruma’s suspicion. Kalego also seemed to notice Lied’s strangely excited energy and would keep calling on Lied to answer, which led to many missed answers and Lied believing he was looking bad in front of Elizabetta.

“Nee-san won’t ever like me now,” Lied pouted as the bell rang and the class stood to go to the lunch room. Iruma chuckled awkwardly, not entirely sure how to approach the topic of Elizabetta, yet Lied seemed to change his tune quickly, “Hey Iruma-kun, do you have time now?”

The question caught him off guard. He always ate quickly so he technically did, “Uh yeah, why?” Iruma asked but was met with Lied laughing conspiratorially to himself as he waved his hand dismissively.

“No need to worry, just come with me little bro,” Lied said, to which Iruma felt a little annoyed. He thought it was perfectly clear that Lied was the younger brother of the two, not that he exactly knew when his birthday was, but that wasn’t important.

Iruma followed Lied into the Royal One game room and Lied, on a rare occasion, was on his feet and held his hand out then told Iruma to wait right where he was. A request Iruma acknowledged as he waited and looked about, never really being in this part of Royal One, but glad they had it nonetheless. It was as Iruma had begun to feel a bit impatient as his howling stomach began to ache painfully and Iruma wanted nothing more than to eat but couldn’t anymore as he had finished all of his snacks gifted by Jazz.

Just as Iruma was about to excuse himself to the cafeteria, Lied finally reappeared with an excited grin. Lied hid something behind his back, which made Iruma wonder just what exactly his fellow young king was hiding. The answer was revealed when Lied gave Iruma a copy of a game that Lied had been talking about and that Iruma had wanted to buy so he could play with Lied.

The blond demon smiled as he saw Iruma’s expression turn from a slightly curious to an overjoyed expression as he bowed deeply and received the gift with much gratitude. Lied had cleared his throat, in an attempt to still try and be seen as Iruma’s older brother, “It’s to celebrate you getting better. It was really boring without you, bro,” he said as he wrapped his arms around his torso to pull him into a hug and laughed softly, not wanting Iruma to see him crying.

Iruma hugged Lied back and felt so grateful that he was the one he had spent the harvest festival with. The warmth that Iruma felt from Lied wasn’t like how he felt from Jazz and the security he felt from his big brother figure. While Lied was unsteady, not very confident, and looked lame in his endeavors to woo Elizabetta, Iruma had become acutely aware of how deeply Lied cared for the Misfits, Lied’s older sister, and him, he recognized his strengths and saw him as a brother, one he would have loved to have back in the human world.

As much as Iruma had loved being embraced by yet another brotherly figure, his stomach cried out to be fed, and Lied soon released him as Iruma blushed out of embarrassment, “Let’s go, hopefully, we can get to the cafeteria fast enough for you to eat,” he said as he hopped back onto his tail and began to make his way with Iruma in tow.

The two had managed to make it to the cafeteria just in time for the kitchen staff’s very own surprise for Iruma. The past week, they had unintentionally prepared too much food due to a certain student, but since he was out fighting an illness, the extra food went to waste - unappreciated and unloved. They hadn’t had time to prepare anything the day before, but since seeing him, the chefs had prepared a high-class course befitting a Zayin (7). The chefs and other dining staff had seated him in a special VIP section where they could more easily get the food from the kitchen and to Iruma.

Initially, Iruma felt uncomfortable with the sudden preferential treatment, but that feeling soon faded as he had dozens of dishes laid out before him and Iruma’s defenses lowered drastically as he ate and savored the food. Lied grinned as he watched while Asmodeus seemed pleased to see that Iruma was “finally getting the treatment he deserved.” A statement that wasn’t entirely untrue, but one that Lied wasn’t entirely sure it applied to this specific situation.

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After eating his fill and receiving all of the appreciation and gentle head and shoulder pats, Iruma felt filled to bursting and left the cafeteria with a full stomach and an even fuller heart. He thanked them all for the food and appreciation as he went on to his afternoon classes. During a break period, Purson materialized in Iruma’s peripheral and tapped his shoulder, “Come to the roof after school,” he said softly and, once Iruma had accepted the cryptic invitation, Purson disappeared once again.

All day, Iruma had been pulled around by his friends and been shown love for simply being. If he was being honest, it was a bit much and a little overwhelming, yet he was still glad to have such an exciting day. He was glad that he got to spend the day with his dear friends, especially since Asmodeus and Clara had seemed to reclaim Iruma during the afternoon, no longer able to bear the painful void of not being around Iruma.

Now, at the end of the day, Iruma heard the pleasant melody of The Pixie grow louder as Iruma ascended the stairs to the roof. He watched as Purson Soi, who tried so desperately to stay unknown and unseen for so long, shone brightly as the song came to a crescendo on a whole note before descending in both scale and tone as he let the song end. Purson turned to Iruma and waved as Iruma ran over to him, a scene familiar to both of them as the catalyst for why Purson was now a Dalet (4).

“That was amazing, Purson-kun!” Iruma said with an excited smile. The words of praise made Purson instinctively set his trumpet down and hug Iruma.

Shocked, Iruma froze, yet melted into the embrace. Purson’s unique and personal knowledge of each member of the Misfit Class typically made for gossip, but in this instance, it was to give Iruma exactly what he needed.

“I’m actually not very comfortable with hugging you like this. Like, it’s nice and everything, but you are probably overwhelmed by Jazz-kun and Lied-kun and the kitchen staff. So like doing something like this feels like I might be stressing you out, but also like, I want some way to show how thankful I am to you. Like, without you praising my hobby of playing trumpet and inviting me to the music festival, we probably would have been sent back to our old classroom and I would still be stuck with my family’s tradition of not talking or interacting with anyone or anything. Also, when I asked you to meet me up here, I was totally panicking because like, I’ve never invited anyone out to anything before and I was thinking ‘Can I?’ I mean we’ve hung out like once and the thought that you might say no made me freak out,” Purson yapped. Iruma remembered just how much the detection-warding user loved to chat, and how much Iruma loved to listen to Purson’s thoughts.

Purson squeezed Iruma a little more, “But, when I heard you crying, I realized that I hadn’t really shown you just how much you matter to me and the rest of us. Also, I don’t know who ‘they’ are, but I’d like to know so we can repay them for how they treated you.”

While Iruma turned beet red at Purson’s admission for snooping, he felt glad that it wasn’t out of a place of curiosity and morbid fascination. As Purson continued to speak, Iruma felt himself tear up and then chuckle softly, “Sorry to disappoint, Purson-kun, but they’re all a bit too far for you to reach.” Disappointed, Purson nodded and held his friend before pulling away and looking to the door leading to the roof before waving over Jazz and Lied. Iruma looked shocked as they saw his tear-stained face and accusations quickly left the recently arrived demons demanding an explanation as to why Iruma was crying.

Before the argument could go on any further, Iruma quickly spoke up, “Jazz-kun, Lied-kun! Purson-kun didn’t mean to make me cry, I-” he paused and felt himself try to compose himself before speaking, “I’m just so glad to have such wonderful friends. I was thinking that I wouldn’t get this treatment since it’s the second day of being back and it doesn’t feel like it should be all that important,” Jazz, Lied, and Purson all seemed a bit shocked at the admission.

Taking advantage of their stunned silence, Iruma continued, “I had nearly come to terms with it as yesterday was probably the most I’ve ever been held in my whole life. I was actually really sad to think that I was going to miss out on this.”

He smiled tightly, as he didn’t want to keep crying, he wanted to be stronger in front of those he loved like brothers. He felt a familiar hand rest on his head as it genuinely rubbed his scalp with all of the affection he wanted. It didn’t feel alien as it did when his parents would do the same, instead, Iruma felt himself surrounded in a group hug by the trio of boys.

Once he had calmed down, Lied pulled out his handheld game console, “Now that we’re all here, we can all play!” Iruma seemed a little confused at the statement. Yet confusion melted away into joy as he saw Jazz and Purson pull out their handheld consoles, Iruma beamed a smile as they all sat on the floor of the roof. Iruma retrieved the console, which Lord Sullivan had bought for him, and the game Lied had given to him earlier.

As most students finished their battler activities and went home, four friends, as close as brothers, played games together until the teachers caught them still at school and chased them off. Iruma felt satisfied and his needs were fulfilled. Little did the avaricious human know, he would feel empty and hollow and want to demand more attention from his beloved classmates. As guilty as he would feel, his friends would be there to meet his request and to indulge him for what he had so freely done for them all.

Chapter Text

Ix Elizabetta loved love in all of its shapes and forms: stolen love, passionate love, tragic love. But if there would be a love she hated; it would be the complete loss of love. Tales of where a character held a losing love were different, she loved reading about the devotion that even the losing protagonists expressed. No, it was the complete lack and absence of love that Iruma seemed to experience that caused the purest demoness to feel so much anger. Had she known just how deeply infuriating the thought of depriving a demon of love was to her, she wouldn’t have tried to do her makeup. The distracting flash of rage nearly made her ruin her waterline, a thought that made her pout as she tried again, succeeding the second time around.

She capped the pen after finishing and spun in her stool to admire the love letter her prince had written to her. She had read and reread each word of praise about what Iruma had thought were her most admirable traits and things he had liked most about her before putting it in its current frame. She had initially believed it to be empty, yet when he informed her otherwise, she couldn’t help but feel that she felt seen, and a deeper part of her heart cried as she looked upon the letter. She wondered how a demon so starved of love could write such beautiful words, yet she wouldn’t have to think too hard about this demon being devoid of her favorite emotion.

Turning back to finish her makeup routine, she couldn’t help but smile as she imagined the smile on her prince’s face. While the other boys in the Misfits would wail and gnash their teeth, Iruma would be spoiled by her and his other classmates. It was as she examined her makeup that she felt herself smile and blush lightly as she recognized she had discovered a new form of love, her favorite form of love: found love.

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“Good job, Iruma!” The voice was laden with faux appreciation as the boy waited in anxious anticipation for the reward of a head pat. He had spent his sole day off cleaning his parents’ apartment, upon their request. He had left the place sparkling instead of foraging for food as he had initially planned, but that didn’t matter so long as he could satiate his one want.

He eyed his mother’s hand reach down until his bangs inhibited his sight. Impatiently, he took a small breath and squeezed his eyes and stood on his tiptoes to close the distance. Instead, there was no resistance on his head and he heard the soft padding footsteps of his mother.

‘She had walked away from me,’ Iruma recognized as he opened his eyes and froze as he looked up and saw an indiscernible emotion in his mother’s eyes. What was that? Disgust? Fear? Hate? He felt sick to his stomach, incidentally so did she.

Framing her perfect smile on her face once again, she knelt to Iruma’s level, “Iruma, always remember that being greedy is the worst thing you can be. It’s disgusting,” her words dripped with venom. Iruma didn’t think he was being greedy or undeserving, but he’d agree. He'd never complain about grass or wanting more food, he’d never demand to be pet or touched. If it meant it would get his mother to stop looking at him like that, he would certainly do most anything.

Suzuki Iruma awoke ashamed and disgusted with himself. He felt the uncontrollable urge to throw up claw its way up his throat, but the knock at his door made Iruma force himself to swallow the pooling bile. “Come in,” he said as he cringed at the foul taste and hoped Sullivan and Opera didn’t get close enough to smell his breath. However, his fears were stilled as the routine of Sullivan busting his door down and Opera scolding their master before offering Iruma the cup of perfectly brewed Hells Grey Tea. The torrent that started his morning routine had allowed him enough time to forget that nightmare he had about his mother.

Iruma had no idea what to expect today. While he was glad that he had his wishes fulfilled on a day he thought no one would bother with wanting to celebrate, he believed a third day back would be too much. His insatiable appetite was being whetted from experiencing all of the new and different types of love he didn’t know existed. He felt the depth of the love his soulmates held for him, the special way Ameri and Clara seemed to look at him and hold him which felt much more than just friendship, the brotherly bond from the three boys who seemed to serve a similar role in entirely different ways.

The blue-haired boy had desired to gorge on the love and affection his classmates were freely giving him, however, the memory of his mother calling him disgusting grounded him. While he had never before felt this depth of love and appreciation, he felt the sudden exposure to be vastly overwhelming and entirely undeserved. All Iruma had done was get sick and get spoiled for complaining about his past. He didn’t understand the reasoning behind his classmates treating him the way they were. He was an intruder to the Netherworld, a human living amongst demons. And yet, he couldn’t help a small part of himself feel as if deserved to be spoiled to make up for the lost time.

However, if Iruma knew anything, he knew he couldn’t allow himself to be disgusting. He wanted to, no, needed to serve someone to justify his overindulgence. He swallowed thickly as he resolved to get back to helping others to his fullest capacity. He would ignore the twisting ache of his heart, he would ignore the pulling desire to continue his selfishness to indulge in the want to be held. Iruma would not be disgusting, even if his parents weren’t there to tell him that, their voices lingered.

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Caim Kamui, and the rest of the Misfits, sat in surprise as Iruma stepped in behind Clara and Asmodeus, the trio all looked miserable. The sight only continued to surprise the class as Iruma sat apart from his inseparable soulmates. Conversations stilled when the trio stepped in, but now, not a sound escaped the typically rowdy class. The sight ruffled everyone’s feathers, however, for Caim Kamui it was an additionally frustrating sight. Although the bird demon was a lecher and pestered the girls in the class, he quite liked that Iruma never called him a pervert and recalled that the blue-haired student was one of the few people to pay him a real compliment during the siege of praise.

Since a real gentleman always repays his debts of gratitude, the gentle-demon stood and smoothed his feathers and uniform, as it would be ungentlemanly to be unkempt for any reason. Caim plodded over to Iruma before greeting his classmate and took the seat beside him. Mustering all of the courage in his body, Caim stood and snuck under Iruma’s arm, an action which made the boy raise his arm awkwardly, and hugged Iruma from his side. Caim cleared his throat elegantly to clear any embarrassment from hugging a member of the same sex in such a public setting.

“This is my way of showing my appreciation to you,” Caim said as Iruma hesitantly put his arm back down to embrace him. Iruma had no idea what he meant as he couldn’t think of a single thing he had done for Caim for him to show him such gratitude. However, Caim’s words seemed to make Iruma feel a little better as he smiled softly and began to lean into the hug. The sight of Iruma returning and leaning into the hug left the Misfits at the edge of their seats before a slamming door made them leap out of said seats.

“Public displays of affection this early in the morning? Disgusting,” Kalego snapped as he entered Royal One and set his teaching materials onto the podium and opened a folder for the roster. Kalego heard a chair scrape and he clicked his tongue in irritation, he had no patience for this impudence this early in the morning. “Whoever just stood up, sit down now. This is your only warning,” he said before glancing up from the roster sheet to fix a deadly glare at whoever was so foolish as to disturb class before it could even start.

The teacher was startled as his eyes landed on Iruma, the boy had looked at Kalego with a look of horror on his face. Iruma’s face looked pallid and his eyes seemed distant as he mumbled something to Caim which made the demon tentatively release him and sit further away from Iruma. Kalego was used to receiving dirty looks from his students, yet this was different as he had overlooked every other case of public affection Iruma had received since that day in the infirmary. To Kalego, he felt these glares were justified.

A soft cluck of a tongue escaped the teacher as he walked over to Iruma, the student looking increasingly more and more worried and frightened as Kalego approached. Clumsy in most things other than cruelty and personal dignity, the teacher tapped Iruma’s desk and looked down at Iruma. He cleared his throat in an attempt of a dignified manner.

“Go to the nap room. I’ll have Kerori give you any notes you miss.” When Iruma looked up at Kalego in surprise, Kalego clenched his jaw and made an authoritative gesture in the direction of the nap room. All it took was a stern “Go. Now.” for Iruma to scurry away and out of the classroom. A hissing sigh escaped him as he walked back to the podium and began to take role. He would make it up to Iruma sooner or later, lest he lose his stalwart image of a supportive teacher.

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Iruma laid on the floor, entirely spread out and entirely unable to sleep since his exile to the nap room, the blue-haired boy instead thought of how exactly to apologize to Kalego for his conduct and being disgusting. It wasn’t Caim’s fault, it was entirely his own for allowing himself to indulge more than he had done already. He should’ve been content with his classmates not dumping all of the cleaning responsibilities onto him, yet he wanted all of their attention and their affection. Maybe his parents had a point. He felt disgusted with himself as he further spiraled into his own thoughts of self-loathing.

It was only when the door opened that Iruma was pulled from his stupor. He raised his head and was confused but quickly recalled Kalego’s words about Kerori arriving to give him the notes for the period he missed. Admittedly, he felt awful for missing any amount of class, especially since it was due to his own greed. Iruma sat up into a seiza position and did his best to make himself seem small as Kerori eyed him as he looked up at her curiously before she clenched her fists, thumbs tucked in, before she stormed over to Iruma. The boy startled, this is the exact opposite of what he wanted, and began to bow repeatedly to her and spout apologies as the girl continued to make her way to him, her irritation becoming more prevalent with each step.

Iruma trembled slightly as the Devi-dol stood before him and the boy before kneeling and gently wrapping her arms around his head and pulling it towards her. Iruma was as stiff as a board, not entirely comprehending what was occurring. His cheeks were flushed and Kerori let out a sigh which made Iruma look up at her with surprise to see her cheeks were also as red as his. The speechless boy balked as Kerori seemed to stew in her own discomfort for a minute before clearing her throat and pouting at him.

“You could at least look a little more comfortable. You're being hugged by a devi-dol after all,” she reminded. The statement allowed for a smile to grow onto his features and he relaxed in her hold.

As quickly as she held him, she just as quickly released him to hand her the notes she had taken in class. Iruma responded by bowing and apologizing profusely for his behavior, to which Kerori waved off his worries with a wave of her hand then stood to leave. She frowned again as she looked at him once again.

“You should sleep, Clara and Asmodeus-kun are taking notes like crazy for you,” she informed then stepped out.

Iruma had recently been put into the position of finally having his efforts be rewarded, instead of having his sense of self-worth be stomped on at every opportunity just to keep him meek and eager to please everyone. Yet during his time in the Netherworld, he had found himself excusing his indulgences of things he hadn’t had back on Earth and with his human family. Gorging himself on love that was just as scarce as the food back when he was forced to live in the forest made him feel shame for his excuses and actions. Despite any internalized guilt, Iruma felt relief in the slow realization that his parents wouldn’t be able to take this small slice of happiness from him, despite what he had seen in his hallucinations during the Harvest Festival.

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When Iruma awoke from his nap, he felt well rested, a feeling which his nightmare had robbed him of. It was as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes that he felt the familiar buzzing of his hellphone. His eyes widened at seeing that the school day was already over and the list of texts he had received from his classmates. Iruma felt like crying as he knew that he probably worried them more than he had ever meant to. In fact, tears had already brimmed his eyes as he typed out and sent responses to each of the concerned senders. Deep in his embarrassment, he didn’t notice it when a particular succubus cracked the door open and pouted after seeing Iruma entirely alone and seemingly devoid of affection.

When she knocked the nap room door gently, Iruma flinched but looked up and greeted Elizabetta with a sheepish expression. The latter beamed as she tip-toed into the room and closed the door behind her. A rather intense look in her eyes gleamed as she crossed her arms over her chest as she looked down at Iruma’s now kneeling form. Iruma had begun to look away and make himself look smaller as he felt sweat bead his forehead as fear began to flood through him. He didn’t know what he did to deserve such a critical gaze and what Elizabetta was seeing for her to stare at him so intensely, yet before he could make any conclusions she spoke.

“Iruma-kun,” she beckoned as she knelt before him and folded her hands into her lap. She frowned when he only seemed to sweat harder and shrink further into himself. A gentle sigh escaped her as her whole form slumped in defeat, causing a startled Iruma to immediately perk up.

“Elizabetta-san?” he asked as he felt worry, then panic begin to flare in his chest as he saw tears line her eyes. He bowed into a seiza position and apologized repeatedly, yet felt his heart sink as his apologies only seemed to make her tear up more and begin to cry. Iruma hadn’t even known what he had done, yet he knew he needed to comfort her immediately. If word got out that Iruma had made the heartthrob of the Misfits cry, he’d be made to repent for his crimes.

He bowed again and felt his wavering voice sound out, “I’m so sorry for making you cry Elizabetta-san. But I don’t know what I did so I don’t know how to correctly apologize to you for what I did wrong if I don’t know the reason,” he said as he peered up from his position.

To her credit, she did stop crying, but instead looked at Iruma with a strange and complicated mix of emotions that made Iruma dizzy. Iruma froze when he felt a gentle hand press onto his shoulder and urged him up. He did as she wanted him to and ended up back into his kneeling position before he was once again thrown into a compromising position with his head once again being pulled into someone’s chest. The male instinct to freeze as he did when Kerori had embraced him was stunted when Elizabetta began to speak.

“It’s okay to allow yourself to be comforted, even if it’s selfish,” Iruma felt his breath catch in his throat before Elizabetta continued, “You are worthy of love. If you can’t give that to yourself then we’ll give you all the love you want and more.”

Iruma felt the breath turn into a lump which made him swallow thickly as his arms wrapped around her midsection and he allowed her words to sink in. It didn’t solve his own self-loathing for wanting to be held and his guilt for his continual allowances for his avarice, but her words felt like balm to his own guilt. He clenched his jaw as he felt tears brim in his eyes as he pulled away from Elizabetta and felt his lip begin to wobble before he uttered two words which made a deep feeling of compassion and sorrow surge in the heart of the young demoness.

“Am I?”

Elizabetta felt her own tears grow as she pulled him into her once again and nodded. Yet she was startled when she noticed two of her fellow demons appear in her periphery before recognition allowed her to calm. One of them placed a hand onto his lower back, causing the boy to flinch as the other managed to continue its previously interrupted hug.

“You especially,” the cool voice of the Misfits own devi-dol spoke as she stroked his back and familiar, fluffy feathers squeezed against his side.

The group embrace left Iruma feeling overfull and overwhelmed as they comforted him through his battle as he tried to hold back his sobs. Their presence felt enough for Iruma, yet with each passing moment in the constant and gentle embrace reminded him of Elizabetta’s promise. It reminded him of the experiences before and the same lesson they each had to instill into him with each embrace and each show of love and affection: “You are valuable and you are deserving of love.”

The realization finally clicking for him made Iruma begin to cry. It would have never dawned on him if he still lived with his parents or in the human realm. His cries became sobs before long as he squeezed his arms around the three demons around him, each of them reciprocating in some capacity. Once he was all cried out, Iruma knelt and sniffled softly as he dabbed his eyes with a pocket square Caim offered to him. He took deep breaths at Kerori’s instruction and smiled warmly as Elizabetta saw in real time her newfound favorite form of love unfold as Iruma began to respond to his worried friends on his hellphone. It was only when her prince for the day smiled that she allowed herself to smile as relief flooded through her.

As Elizabetta watched Iruma apologize to Asmodeus and Clara through a phone call, she felt her heart squeeze pleasantly as Iruma’s flustered expression from apologizing as Caim made a remark about doing the gentlemanly thing and would forgive Iruma for being embraced by the ladies. A remark which caused Kerori to use her presence as an ice queen to frighten the demon into submission as Iruma watched silently, unsure how to approach the unfolding scene. Ix Elizabetta became sure of one thing: she loved found love.

Chapter Text

It was always easy for Iruma to fall asleep after the day he had just had – the week he had since he had made his recovery – it all felt just a little draining. A welcome way to return from making his friends worry so much about him, even if their affection hasn’t quite made the guilt he felt from his outburst leave him entirely. Iruma let out a gentle sigh as he deflated into his bed and let himself fall asleep. Or so he thought, yet for some reason, the boy felt as if he couldn’t fall asleep as easily as possible. A strange sense of restlessness washed over him as he squeezed his eyes shut in a desperate bid to force sleep to come to him. After a few more moments of straining and squeezing his eyes shut, he relaxed and decided to take a mental inventory.

It took all of an instant for Iruma to recognize that an uneasy feeling set heavily in Iruma’s stomach, the most probable cause of his restlessness. Something felt deeply wrong. But why would anything be wrong? He’s just had his need for touch addressed almost a hundredfold, his worthiness of being loved had been resolved with resounding affirmation. So why was he so unsteady now? He was a person worthy and deserving of unconditional love from those he treasured. At least that was what his treasured friends had told him ad nauseam for the past week so why was his mind so excited? His friends would never lie to him. He was worthy of love and their companionship.

He was, wasn’t he?

A laugh bubbled out from the darkness, forcing Iruma to try to open his eyes to see who was laughing. Fear lurched through him as he couldn’t open his eyes and the dreadful realization that he was having a nightmare shook his core. The revelation hit harder when he saw the figure that managed to cause both hope and terror to fill him every time he saw him. The figure just kept laughing as he approached, Iruma was surprised he could still remember that familiar shade of blue that colored the man’s mop of hair and mirthful eyes. The stone sank further and settled with grim reality. The same mocking, self-satisfied smile which Iruma had seen each time he tried to smile more confidently in the mirror, the sight of which made bile flood his mouth with the promise of vomit. It was one of the things he was grateful to have inherited from his mother.

“Dad?” Iruma choked out.

An amused laugh escaped from his father as the man approached him, tears brimmed in the man’s eyes from laughing the entire time. Iruma wanted rage or confidence to fill him as it did that day he shot that fear parasite during the Harvest Festival when he was confronted with the sight of his parents in his real world, yet here he felt powerless. No Ali to help him this time, no Nafra to come down to ask him if he can fly and no way his blood can carry him out of here. He felt trapped as the man wiped his tears and patted Iruma on his shoulder as he sighed the laughter out of himself.

“You’re still an absolute riot, kiddo,” the father said as he quickly removed his hand from Iruma and wiped it off on his own pant leg with his smile fading for a moment before it returned, “Anyway, you know better than to believe that nonsense that you are freely given anything. You’re a hard-working kid, but you’ve never been very bright. That’s why Mom and Dad always get you jobs to help keep your head above water and to keep you humble.”

Iruma felt his breathing stop for a moment as his father shot him a glare from his smiling eyes as he seemingly remembered why he even materialized from the void of Iruma’s subconscious. The man's smile became paper thin as he hesitantly patted Iruma on his head, trying hard not to grimace or throw up. Maybe he wouldn’t think of me as this disgusting if they didn’t leave me in the forest as long as they did. Then I wouldn’t have given them fleas, Iruma thought, and immediately the man ripped his hand away from the boy’s hair with something like horror and revulsion.

“Are you still filthy, you walking biohazard?” The man screeched as he held his hand away from the boy and his own head, “I can’t believe that we sold that poor devil something so unhygienic!”

However, instead of the further insults Iruma had come to expect, the man began to cackle as if he had just remembered the funniest joke imaginable. It unnerved Iruma, how quickly his mother and father were able to flip flop between emotions but always manage to be condescending to him despite their highs or lows. Seemingly noticing Iruma’s confusion, his father wheezed as he used his “clean” hand to wipe his tears away as he had done just moments before. 

“I feel only a little guilty for scamming that awful beast, but he was as moronic as he was frightening. Still, it’s hilarious to hear the fact that you think that your “friends” don’t expect anything in return. Nothing is truly free, remember that you had to earn your own crib!” The man boasted with that same grin full of self-adulation, “You should know better if you don’t want to get eaten.”

Iruma watched in horror as the figure of his father multiplied and distorted and grew to surround him, taking up the entirety of the inky expanse beyond them as the sound of fading laughter echoed and shook Iruma to his soul. It was too much, the laughter felt maniacal and he felt stupid for allowing himself to think that he would ever be free of these awful visages of his parents. He peered up to the awful visions of copies of his parents linked hand in hand wearing porcelain masks with no mouths but horribly detailed eye holes with excessive baroque trim around and to the outer part of the eyes. All of his attention was dedicated to their laughing, mocking eyes as their cackling drowned out all noise. They looked like some twisted perversion of barn owls and it made his stomach drop. It made him want to scream, to cry, and fight. But there were so many of them and they were so, so big. 

So Iruma did, he screamed and wailed until his voice went raw and he believed that he could taste copper in the back of his throat. He felt as if the circle shrunk further and further on him until he felt a familiar sensation of a microscopic figure pinching his cheeks in desperation. While he didn’t know what it was, he knew it was enough to wake him from sleep and he jolted awake. He panted as if he was actually screaming, which he might have been but couldn’t make heads or tails of what happened because he was immediately robbed of his first thoughts of consciousness.

“Iru-boy!” Alikred wailed as tears made one solid stream down the center of his one eye, “I tried so hard to wake you, but nothing worked! I could feel how troubled and scared you were, and I couldn’t figure out what was so frightening to you.”

Iruma felt immediately compelled to gently cup Alikred to his cheek as a way to hug the spirit of the Ring of Gluttony. It seemed to ease the spirit for the time being, as it took its time to recollect and regain its composure. Iruma took the opportunity to check the time and he let out a weary sigh. Three in the morning. He had four more hours to burn before his more typical morning routine occurred right after he awoke with Sullivan and Opera entering his room with the former to shower him with affection and the latter his favorite Hells Grey Tea. 

Iruma hoped it wouldn’t be a long day if he was going to get such an early start on it. 

--------------------------------------------------------------

Gaap Goemon sat in a seiza position and watched the shoji doors in nervous anticipation. Goemon watched the clock in his living room, anxiety building like a rolling boil in his belly. Minutes had begun to feel like hours as he resisted the urge to gnaw on his nails. Today was his day to show his appreciation for Iruma-kun after the boy's near brush with death. The issue the samurai faced was how to show his appreciation. Goemon was as much of a people pleaser as Iruma was, however, the blue haired boy always seemed to surpass Goemon in how far he would go to make another person's day or for other demons altogether. Making rice balls and ensuring Agares woke up and went to school everyday didn't equate to Iruma’s constant aid of the janitors, consistently almost begging teachers to allow him to help, and folding under the pressure whenever someone says please - or under no pressure at all in some cases. 

As a fellow pushover, Goemon knew all too well the small, consistent sting of being overlooked by other demons. Not that he would blame them, they just believed his willingness to help meant they did not need to offer gratitude or check in on his needs as much. On some level, the samurai wasn’t necessarily surprised that Iruma let himself get as sick as he did, Iruma probably pushed it off and acted normally to ensure no one suspected his deception. However, it was his own negligence as a decent demon and one who prides himself on caring for his schoolmates and family that allowed him to be blinded to the suffering of someone he cherished. There were times Gaap had caught himself replaying a reality where he checked on Iruma sooner and did what he could to try and convince him to take a rest, yet that wasn't the reality that happened and the crushing realization and guilt settled on his heart like a stone. 

Goemon felt that he had already failed Iruma before by not being able to tell he was so ill, he could not fail Iruma again. His adherence to bushido would never allow it. He only hoped that Iruma would allow Goemon and the remainder of the Misfits to comfort him. After what was shared from Caim yesterday, it might end in tears for everyone involved. Goemon was glad he always packed extra tissues, just in case. A soft sigh escaped the snow-white demon as he noticed the time and took the bundle of rice balls and stood from his spot on the floor to slip on his shoes and go to school.

“I’m going to pick up Agares-kun! Bye Mom, bye Dad,” he called as he slid the door open and began his typical schedule and walked to the Agares estate.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Agares Picero, unlike any usual day, laid on his back staring at the ceiling of his living room. He had two thoughts on his mind - two demons who acted almost the same. One was a selfless goody-two-shoes who always acted before thinking about his own good, and the other was a nigh identical copy but the only difference between the two, was that the latter was currently approaching to knock on the front door until Agares would have to talk himself down from using his bloodline magic to bury himself in escaping his officially unofficial escort. But today, Agares found himself hesitantly looking forward to seeing Goemon to try and brainstorm a way to express their care to Iruma. Agares rolled onto his stomach and snagged his eye mask and slipped it over his eyes. Darkness swallowed Agares had wondered, isn’t it typical of Iruma to give as much as he does? Would he want some great reward? It must have been an exhausting past few days for their leader, maybe they should do less and let him relax?

Like clockwork, the aforementioned knocking came and grated on Agares as it always did, however, he saved his usual curses and begrudgingly went and opened the door to a surprised Goemon. He couldn’t see Goemon, on account of the eye covering, but he could feel that the hairy demon was shocked from the soft gasp that seemed to get stuck in his throat. The surprise felt more grating than any knocking could. He could be nice and not yell obscenities, he just did so to vent frustration and he could open the door without complaint. He just didn’t as he wasn’t a morning demon. He held out his hand to Goemon’s direction and, when for a while he knew the fuzzy samurai was staring blankly at his open and upward facing palm, growled an irritated snarl.

“I know you have a rice ball for me,” Agares ground out and the sentence seemed to make Goemon snap awake as he moved and placed the bundle of three rice balls into the sleep-adoring boy’s hand. Satisfaction flooded through him as he unwrapped and began to eat the rice balls prepared for him. 

It wasn’t very long before Gaap had begun to chirp about his morning. He spoke about his training routine, his hair maintenance, the brief conversation with his family before going out to pick up Agares. It was comfortable and usual, but the more time passed with Gaap rambling about anything other than their plan to show Iruma that they care, the more Agares felt tension build in his small form. Admittedly, Agares didn’t quite understand why they needed to do anything for the blue haired boy. He always seemed perfectly content sticking his nose where it didn’t belong and doing too much for his own selfish reasons of getting everyone to like him. So why reward him for it if he seems content?

It didn’t click for the cloud lounging demon. 

“So Agares-kun,” Goemon began. Here it comes , “What should we do for Iruma-kun as part of our day of our operation, de gozaru?”

“Nothing,” Agares answered flatly.

There’s a beat of stunned silence before Goemon speaks again, “Nothing?”

“Yeah,” Picero confirms, “He seems perfectly fine doing what he usually does. I don’t see a need to do anything. He got himself that sick, but he’s back and better now. Why bother?”

He didn’t know if he believed any of what he had just said, it felt wrong to have said almost all of it, like a sticky-thick medicine that you need to drink a glass of water just to wash the aftertaste from your mouth. When more silence met Agares, he lifted his eye mask off of his eyes to rest onto his forehead. What met him was the sight of Goemon, positively glowering at him with a dangerous edge. It made Agares twitch uneasily. 

“Maybe you aren’t aware of how much Iruma-kun sacrifices from doing whatever you think is what he usually does ,” There was a sinister mocking in Gaap's tone. Agares didn’t know that Gaap was capable of mocking anyone, “Maybe if you could actually drag yourself out of bed and off that cloud for two seconds you can see how much work he actually does around the campus every day, every week, every month, de gozaru.”

“I didn’t ask him to do that, Derkila knows the ground staff didn’t ask Iruma-kun to slave away with them. None of that has anything to do with me,” Agares countered with a sneer of his own, “It’s not my problem that he’s greedy for everyone else’s validation and affection.”

“It IS your problem!” Gaap shouted for the first time in the entire time Agares had known him, “It is OUR problem because it means we didn’t do enough to show that we care about him! It means that we neglected him for our own comfortability! And do I need to remind you that it was the ground staff who helped us to get out of that garbage pit and into the Royal One? And how do we pay back and show our appreciation to the demon directly responsible for our change of classroom and constantly challenges us to increase our rank? By ignoring him? By pinning our guilt on him? By doing nothing at all?!”

Agares felt his rage boil. Of course it was wrong of him to say any of what he said, he could have just admitted that he didn’t know what to do, however, it didn’t justify the anger he felt from Goemon. Agares glared hard at the samurai, as if he was looking at someone he had just met for the first time. It felt alien to hold so much contempt for his long-time acquaintance, yet it would be something he would hold on to. A decision to stand by, no matter the hurt he felt deeper in his chest. 

“This has to be the stupidest thing you can get hung up on,” Agares hissed, “Why are you so insistent on this? Do you think that there are any other demons as kind or greedy as he is? Or do you see yourself in him like some kind of idol?”

With that stinging remark, Agares watched as any chance he had to backtrack and apologize disappeared before his eyes as Gaap stopped and let his wings grow out from his back. Agares almost felt himself balk in horror at the realization that his friend was going to leave him, and it was entirely his own fault. Goemon glared at him hard and, although his face was obscured by hair, Agares could practically feel the antipathetic, bordering hostile, frown. It was so out of place that Agares found himself about to speak but unable to force out any apologies or excuses. Something which Gaap took as his cue to leave Agares behind, still lying prone on his cloud and with the absence of one another, a howling sorrow opened up in the core of each friend as the animosity and separation on negative terms had already hit the pair harder than either could even anticipate. 

As Agares drifted by on the ground, Gaap flew by like an arrow. The hope that time could repair all wounds felt lame and hollow, but they hoped dimly for it to be true. 

--------------------------------------------------------------

Four small light blue walls made up the cozy, to the point of claustrophobic, office where a sofa and armchair made a ninety degree angle in the room. Presently, Iruma found himself in the fairly plush armchair, opposing Murmur Tsumuru who himself had forgone the couch for an office chair. The red haired demon wore an easy smile as he sat at a comfortable distance from Iruma, one leg atop the other, making a four or triangle with his legs. He held a pad of paper and a clipboard in his lap while leaving the rest of his upper body open. The psychiatry demon had his office chair level to Iruma so as to not intimidate or appear to have closed himself off.

Admittedly, Iruma was more than a bit thrown by the demon’s attention to detail to ensure that Iruma could be as comfortable as possible with an inviting, warm atmosphere, soft cushions, eye contact, and showing he wouldn’t do anything without Iruma’s approval or knowledge. Even the office itself was special to the teacher, not that Iruma would ever complain about it. It was a much more comfortable setting than the tiny lounge in the main teacher’s office where all he could hope was that passing teachers would keep their ears and eyes to themselves. They hadn’t when he negotiated for the Royal One, so he didn’t fully trust them to not overhear.

The surprise therapy session was not a welcome surprise to Iruma after the nightmare he had and the early start to the day. Sullivan and Opera had fussed endlessly about how exhausted he looked when they routinely barged into his room, only after they had ensured he wasn't going through his evil cycle again. Although Iruma would never outrightly express his anger, Lord Sullivan speaking about it nonchalantly and without asking Iruma made the blue haired boy feel a tick of irritation. 

“Good morning, Iruma-kun!” Murmur started and snapped Iruma out of his slight stupor of reminiscing, “I understand that this session is a bit…out of the blue. But don't worry! Whatever we discuss will be kept strictly between us and in this room.”

If Iruma could credit the red-haired demon with anything, it was how to reassure anyone. Even now, Iruma felt the growing ball of tension in his chest ease at the psychiatrist's words. However, Iruma still felt entirely unable to entirely relax. The same could also be said for the professional shrink as he adjusted in his seat and started off awkwardly. 

“Iruma-kun, how is life at home?” Murmur asked slowly, despite the probing question, he managed to keep his general warmness about himself, “Lord Sullivan seems to be quite the doting grandfather and Opera an attendant butler.” 

Iruma cautiously nodded, “They are.” 

Murmur seemed to wince, apparently noticing Iruma’s apprehension, “Iruma-kun, I feel that there's a misunderstanding between us,” he started unevenly, “This isn't meant to dig out your deepest, darkest secrets. This is more of a check-up to make sure that you are safe and well taken care of.”

Iruma felt himself deflate before he inhaled softly then began, “Nothing I say will get anyone in trouble?”

Now the pendulum shifted and Murmur was on the back foot, “Whatever is shared between us here today stays in this room.” That felt like a good answer, a safe answer that might get Iruma to open a little. However, the psychologist seemed to blanch slightly at the sight of a somewhat distant Iruma.

“Even parental neglect?”

It felt impossible to breathe with how oppressive the atmosphere of horror seemed to encroach on Iruma. He shifted in his chair as Murmur attempted to regain his lost composure. Expectedly, Murmur jotted down some notes in the notepad before flashing a soft smile which was clearly for the demon’s own ease and reassurance than Iruma’s. If anything, Iruma felt guilty for playing that card so early. Usually he would use it to trump adults who wished to remove him from his parents’ custody. It almost happened, but they knew how to play him to get him to retract and lie for the things he said. It wasn’t something he wanted to repeat, especially when he remembered how they punished him for it.

It didn’t matter to Iruma that they were a dimension away, his nightmares and reawakened trauma made them all the more real in his subconscious. 

“If you wish to keep that private, we can,” Iruma blinked owlishly. That wasn’t a response other adults so readily accepted. Usually, he would have needed to juggle and waffle to assuage the fears of whoever was asking. It worked a lot of the time, he would only hint at hard topics to dissuade persistent adults. It was appreciated, but he knew his parents would stop at no end to make sure that he would keep working to ensure their lavish lifestyle. He didn’t know how far they would go to get him back, maybe they’d make a portal to get him again and sell him to a different being. 

“As you know, Lord Sullivan has given his approval for this session when a physical examination was performed by Balam-sensei after you fell unconscious,” Iruma felt his heart thud hard against his ribcage as Murmur continued. “He found nothing abnormal, but had to share the results to Lord Sullivan and Opera-san.”

Iruma felt his throat almost close up at Murmur’s words. It wasn’t voluntary, but there was always this sensation of panic at the mention of responsible adults uncovering something about him. It was one thing with his classmates and friends, but it was always different with adults. 

“He said that a potential reason of your falling ill was anxiety and stress. What do you think about that?” Murmur asked, going full shrink.

“He probably has a point,” Iruma confessed, then felt the urge to deny, “Not that school is stressful! Everyday is rewarding and although the coursework is challenging, I’m not struggling to keep up with it! If anything, I’m the happiest that I have been in a long time, and it’s all thanks to grandpa and Opera-san.”

Murmur smiled softly and nodded, “I understand, Iruma-kun. I think that will conclude our therapy appointment for today. My door is always open if you want to talk, alright?” 

Iruma nodded with a smile before he stood up and bowed. He said his farewell and left Murmur in his office to digest the whole conversation. Murmur slumped in his office chair and looked at the notepad with a soft sigh. It was much more full than he would have imagined it would be and all of it was concerning. He wondered absently how many adults failed Iruma before Sullivan came through and provided Iruma with a welcoming home and an environment for enrichment. 

He packed his notes and stood up before shutting off the lights in his office. It was going to be a long conversation with the chair-demon, one that Murmur doubted he had enough tissues to provide Lord Sullivan.

‘It’ll be fine,’ he hoped, ‘it’ll all be fine.’

--------------------------------------------------------------

Allocer Schneider felt his head hurt already as he sat in his seat in the Royal One. Sabnock Sabro was loudly proclaiming how he would become the best demon king and beat his rival the only way rivals could. The proclamation would have been inspiring or moving if Clara wasn’t actively scaling “Mt. Sabnock” with him encouraging her towards the end of his tirade. That wasn’t the source of Allocer’s headache though. It didn’t help it, but that was just the normal classroom hijinks he had come to expect. 

The source of his headache were the two pouting demons who decided to sit on separate ends of the classroom. Both were fuming with rage, and while one being more annoyed most of the time was normal, both being this uncooperative in whatever tension was going on was unacceptable. If left to their own devices, only he and Sabnock would do anything to contribute to the operation. 

Allocer stood from his seat and approached the foot of Mt. Sabnock then looked up, “Sabnock-kun, we need to talk about today.”

Sabnock grinned, “Of course! The four of us shall surely complete our tasks!”

Allocer saw both demons actually twitch at the mention of today. ‘Good,’ He thought to himself before nodding at Sabnock.

“Yes, we shall. What if we split into pairs? We won’t have enough time to each spend time with Iruma-kun individually.” Allocer suggested.

“A most excellent idea!” Sabnock agreed before continuing, “Should thou and I be a pair then?” The pair of demons twitched again.

“I think we should split the groups. I was thinking that it would be you and Goemon-kun and Agares-kun and I.” Allocer said diplomatically. 

Sabnock nodded and Allocer sighed internally. He was glad that Sabnock was much smarter than his bravado made him seem. It gave Allocer a deeper level of appreciation to Sabnock for playing along to get the result he wanted. 

“Very well, we shall surely beat thou and Agares-kun in comforting Iruma-kun!” Sabnock boomed and marched over to Gaap, which left Allocer to go to Agares. This was going to be a hassle, but it was worth it for the student who brought the best out of them, who brought them to the Royal One and never asked for anything in return but to be held. 

Allocer sat in Gaap’s usual seat beside Agares and felt himself become almost immediately depressed from the intense aura of irritation that emanated so naturally from the sleeping demon boy. The demon who wasn’t actually sleeping, just pretending to do so to ignore everyone. At least in this instance, before he sighed softly and conceded whatever internal battle he felt between guilt or duty in being there for a friend. 

“I don’t know what to do for Iruma-kun,” Agares confessed, his voice low and ashamed.

“Is that why you and Goemon-kun aren’t on speaking terms now?” Allocer countered

“What? No,” Agares felt his shame creep further and further until he felt like he was drowning, “I didn’t say that to Gaap-kun. I felt too embarrassed to admit that I have no idea and now I’m too irritated to do anything to show gratuity to selfishness.”

Allocer nodded, “You were wrong.”

“I know.”

“I’ll try to help you through it, but you need to both apologize to Goemon-kun and show Iruma-kun appreciation,” Allocer said as Kalego entered, “Just remember that you aren’t just rewarding selfishness or greed, it’s the demon behind the actions.”

Agares stared blankly at Allocer before he turned his attention back to his notebook on his desk. Allocer hoped his words landed where they needed to for Agares to better himself, at least for this one day. He didn’t care if Agares went back to being abrasive as ever the next day so long as he could bring the important people together for today. That was all that really mattered. 

--------------------------------------------------------------

Through two periods of painfully silent classes and a strangely uncomfortable Kalego, the Misfits were now moving between classes. They had another lesson in dia-botany so the class was currently being escorted by Kalego to the conservatory. Sabnock was walking with a quite dour Gaap, who had spent the past two periods very obviously fretting over what to do for Iruma. It was a little grating to hear the samurai mutter aloud for nearly two hours, but Sabnock wouldn’t be the one to belittle someone caring deeply about an operation as important as this. Sabnock walked over to Iruma, catching the blue-haired boy’s attention from the sounds of his footsteps alone. 

Iruma beamed a pleasant smile, “Sabnock-kun! Good morning!” Iruma greeted. 

“Iruma, my rival!” Sabnock replied, “How fares thee?”

“I’m doing good,” Iruma said a tad quieter than usual.

Sabnock hummed, wearing a smirk that oozed satisfaction. He brought his hand down to the bluenet’s shoulder and let his smirk transform to a smile. 

“Usually, I would not coddle thou - as thou art my most powerful rival, but today is a special day.” Sabnock paused, then put his hands under Iruma’s arms to hoist him up, as Sabnock did so often to his little sister, and deposited Iruma onto his shoulders. 

Iruma had this look of quiet shock which quickly melted away as he began the gentle chirping laugh that so typically filled the air of the classroom and etched smiles onto the Netherworld residents. Sabnock grinned as he felt Iruma wrap his arms around his head, once more being reminded of his little sister. Rivals usually felt like family, right? Sabnock hoped so, otherwise he might be too coddling.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Allocer had to make contingency plans to now get Gaap and Agares to reconcile. He now sat with Sabnock and both sources of tension. It had been another hour since their walk to and from the conservatory - both ways Sabnock had set Iruma onto his shoulders although Iruma was insistent on walking back. He could see, and practically feel, the incredible tension from the unresolved strife. It had only been three hours of the day, but to Allocer, it had felt like a week of noncooperation from their sheer force of will to glare daggers at one another.

He was fed up with the fact that Agares wasn’t over this already, but moreso at Gaap for not finding a more logical way other than allowing his anger to take over. It was most likely a logical and understandable reason to be so angry, but Allocer had wished that Gaap had said anything to anyone for advice instead of stewing in his own righteous anger for hours. It was something that was coming to an end here and now. He had brought them to the nap room of the Royal One where now Gaap sat in a seiza and Agares floated on his cloud in front of the samurai.

“We’re going to figure this out,” Allocer said with a slight edge, making both boys turn to him. Sabnock, who sat off to the right of the lion demon, nodded in that almost fatherly manner that only he could pull off.

“Goemon-kun,” Allocer said, which seemed to have given Gaap all of the license to release the anger he had felt all day.

“I think there are more ridiculous things to get caught up on,” Gaap started and Agares seemed to have blanched, “but this is important to me and to the class, de gozaru.”

“Oh please do go on about how great Iruma-sama is,” Agares bit back, his eyes rolling.

“No,” Allocer snapped, “You don’t have a turn to defend yourself.”

“Huh?” Agares scoffed, “I can’t say anything?”

“Not if thou art going to demean the contributions of a demon greater than us!” Sabnock declared, ultimately shutting down whatever rebellion Agares was brewing. Allocer breathed a sigh of relief. Having a demon built like the demon kings or demon generals of old was certainly a boon.

“Thank you Sabnock-kun. Goemon, continue.” Allocer said.

Gaap was silent for a moment, before he finally spoke up, “Agares-kun, do you remember Walter Park? I had heard that you helped save some children because of Iruma. Why did you reward selfishness then when there was a greater risk, de gozaru?”

Agares frowned deeply, evidently not fond of being so transparent to his long-time friend. He turned to Allocer and Sabnock who both nodded for him to comment. He looked back to respond, but for a long moment there was silence. Allocer realized what this might be and was soon proven right when Agares started speaking. 

“Because I couldn’t stand the idea that the demon who I knew could have died when I could stop it. I don’t think that was rewarding selfishness, he’s just suicidal.” Agares looked down but looked back up with a frown when he heard a scoff come from the samurai.

“What! It is different! This and that are different!” Agares defended as if he knew that Gaap was grinning like an idiot under all of that hair. 

“Let’s say that is the case,” Goemon began, amusement clear in his tone, “Why did you keep trying to help Iruma during Walter Park and why build that huge castle during the Harvest Festival, de gozaru?”

“The Harvest Festival has nothing to do with Walter Park.” Agares pointed out with an almost bored look.

“Sure, but those were also selfish or kind,” Agares almost recoiled at the latter, “Now imagine doing a million smaller versions of those two events in one day, de gozaru."

Agares rolled his eyes again, “I’m not unfamiliar with kindness, especially with Iruma-kun’s. I just don’t know why it’s our responsibility to do all of this. But for someone who is so blatantly greedy, shouldn’t the satisfaction be enough?”

“Nay,” Sabnock spoke, startling everyone with the softness of his voice, “While he would be. This is an issue that runneth in a more profound manner than we have given credit.”

Agares looked down at his cloud for another silent moment, it seemed to Allocer that being vulnerable was quite taxing to the languid demon. When Agares looked back up to Goemon, his face was screwed up with something that he had seen all too much before and Allocer felt silent resignation and disappointment settle in his belly. Try as he might, he knew he wouldn’t be making good on his promise to his class when the operation was first hatched. 

Before a word could come out, the door to the nap room creaked open and time seemed to freeze as the four made eye contact with Iruma who stopped once he saw the occupants. Silence stretched for what felt like a minute as the four silently watched Iruma shuffle in and close the door behind him. He beamed at them as he emptied his pockets.

“I didn’t see you in the lunchroom, so I bought these from Camu Camu because I thought you would be hungry,” Iruma said as he dumped more snacks than could really fit in his pockets into a small pile in front of the quad.

“Why?” Agares asked.

“Because it sucks not to be able to eat,” Iruma said, eyes focusing more on the floor than the pile of snacks, “But also because you are very dear to me.”

Agares sighed and set his hand on the floor of the nap room and cast his bloodline magic. Suddenly, the floor felt more plush and comfortable with Iruma practically melting from bliss. Agares looked down at the boy who had seemed all too content with falling asleep right then and there. 

“Iruma-kun?” Gaap asked as he slowly climbed over to him, “How did you find out we were here, de gozaru?” 

“I didn’t,” he confessed, “I was just really tired.”

“Honestly!” Agares growled, “How am I supposed to think of something nice to do for you when everything you do is for yourself or on a whim!”

Iruma blinked owlishly and shook his head, “You don’t need to do anything for me Agares-kun. It’s been really nice - this whole week, honestly. But I’d never expect or demand it.”

Agares scoffed softly, a soft warble evident in his tone as he scowled at the floor. Allocer wondered what the sleep demon was thinking about, although it was difficult to keep his thoughts active as the plush cushions of the floor made Allocer blink slowly. While there was no sleep magic cast by Agares, the exhaustion of worry from each demon gathered was becoming more and more evident as drowsy blinks became full slips into unconsciousness. Only two remained awake, Gaap and Agares.

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The two boys watched as the blue haired boy dozed silently curled into a ball. Both demons watched every miniscule detail of their comrades, from involuntary muscle twitches to how Sabnock managed to corral both Allocer and Iruma on either of his sides. Gaap spoke softly, not wanting to wake the three sleeping demons from their much needed slumber.

“I felt relieved when you said you had nothing planned for Iruma-kun, Agares-kun,” Gaap said, “Like I really couldn’t think of anything, but I think it wasn’t because I had taken him for granted. I think I was just envious of him, de gozaru.”

Agares scoffed again, this time it sounded more amused, “You’re such a goody-two-shoes. I don’t buy that you were envious.”

“I can be envious, de gozaru!” Gaap retorted, still mindful of keeping his voice low.

“Uh-huh,” Agares chuckled, “and I can get off of my cloud.”

Gaap winced at that comment, “I’m sorry about saying that, de gozaru.”

“Don’t be. You were right.”

“I still shouldn’t have said it, de gozaru.”

“No, you shouldn’t have because that was outright nasty. But I was being nasty too so it’s only fair.” Agares then took a deep breath, “I didn’t have anything planned because I don’t know how to give like him or you. This is the best I can come up with.”

Agares gestured to the ground with a soft sight, “And I also felt as if I needed to repay you for waking me up and kind of keeping me responsible. I felt that whatever I did for Iruma would have to be big but I would need to do something more extravagant for you.”

If Gaap Goemon was something other than a samurai, it was sensitive. The warrior immediately began sniffling as a small tear rolled down his obscured face. Agares floated over to him and gently patted his shoulder, which only made the samurai cry harder. For the first time, Gaap had felt what he had wanted to feel since he had begun to bend over backwards to help those he could, to train his bloodline magic to help raise his rank. Gaap Goemon had felt seen by the person he had hoped would acknowledge his efforts most. 

Silently, arms wrapped around Goemon and Agares and both stunned demons flinched before they heard the soft laughter of their classmate. They both turned to the consistent ray of hope in their classroom who currently beamed at the both of them.

“I’m glad you two were able to make up. I’m sorry if I was the reason.” Iruma said before both boys hugged him back. Gaap was inconsolable while Agares managed to just have watery eyes. 

“It’s not your fault. We fight all the time,” they said over one another, which made more laughter lilt out from Iruma. 

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Allocer swore he would never mediate for another fight or misunderstanding again. He’d save his energy for the girl he had been talking to, at least she was more interesting to talk to than squabbling boys. He had been packing his bag to head home for the day when a slight figure stood beside him. The lion turned to see Iruma standing with a goofy grin on his face.

“Thanks, Allocer-kun for trying to get them to reconcile,” Iruma had almost whispered, “I was really worried about them.”

Allocer nodded, “It’s hard to see two demons who get along suddenly start fighting. It was no problem. Thank you for bringing snacks.” 

Allocer had slept all through lunch and had subsisted on the snacks Iruma had given them, although a large portion was gone to the void that was Iruma’s appetite. Iruma smiled sheepishly as Allocer stood and slung his bag over his shoulder.

“Sorry there wasn’t as much.”

Allocer shook his head before Iruma had opened his arms and enveloped the lion into a fairly gentle hug. Allocer hugged Iruma back, hoping to comfort him about the food. It wasn’t a big deal, but he wouldn’t shove Iruma off or anything. It was only when Iruma whispered his thanks to Allocer for trying his best to make today special for him that Allocer smiled inwardly and leaned a little more into Iruma’s hug. 

Despite his general spacey nature, Iruma was always watching - always thinking of some considerate way to show how much he cares for his comrades and the demons around him. Allocer believed that was Iruma’s best characteristic that had so quickly earned the love of his classmates and the awe of the school. That and the fact that Iruma had always managed to give great hugs, although Allocer only discovered the latter now, he understood why the Iruma Corps was so affectionate all of the time.

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The entire Misfits class watched on with goofy grins before Iruma released Allocer and beamed out to the class. 

“I’m sorry for scaring you all, but thank you all so much for this past week!” Iruma said as he bowed at a ninety degree angle. He heard giggles and chuckles and the sounds of feet shuffling over towards him. When he straightened, he saw himself in the middle of a circle full of his friends. 

“Welcome back to demon school, Iruma-kun!” They all responded before collapsing into him in a group hug which tipped over and became more of a dog pile of giggling school kids. 

It took a long while before the Misfits had all gotten their hugs and thanks from their most precious classmate. When they did, Clara and Azz helped him up and the entire class followed them out, the laughter following them out leaving an empty Royal One and a dour Naberius Kalego who stood on the opposite side of the teacher’s door. Once again he had missed his opportunity to be there for his student. 

He needed to act tomorrow if he had understood Murmur’s hints about Iruma’s psychiatry session correctly. Otherwise he and all of the faculty would have hell to pay if they ever wanted Iruma to open up to anyone in a productive way. He would do it right because he was the Guard Dog of Babyls and because he was the homeroom teacher of the Misfits Classroom. 

He still had tomorrow.