Chapter Text
“Hiro,” Rei says, unimpressed. Leaning back on his throne, he points down at the coliseum grounds. “Who is that?”
Hiro, sitting next to him, avoids his gaze. Rei glares, and perhaps Hiro can sense it even while looking away- because he coughs once, awkward.
“Hiro,” Rei says again.
They’re the only ones sitting in this balcony, high above the coliseum grounds and far from the crowds. The opening ceremony is set to drag along for quite a while, and Rei didn’t feel it was worth it to ask all four of his generals to sit with him the whole while. Hiro, however, is in charge of organizing this entire tournament- and doesn’t have much choice about making an appearance.
“I can’t remember her full name,” demurs Hiro, “But from those horns, she’s definitely from the Horita clan. I think-”
“-Hiro,” Rei says, for the third time. “You know I’m talking about the man next to her.”
“I mean,” says Hiro, and gives Rei a casual, sheepish grin at odds with his formal wear. Even after so long, Rei still isn’t quite used to seeing Hiro in clothes like this- today, a half-shoulder cape, thrown over an intricately embroidered tunic that neither of them could’ve afforded growing up. Even his horns are beautifully polished these days, curling up sharp in a faded cerulean gradient from his hair.
Hiro, on his part, still doesn’t seem used to acting formally around Rei either. Not that Rei would want him to. There’s a reason why he doesn’t complain about any of his old friends treating him casually, no matter how much Kazami complains about propriety.
“You mean?” Rei echoes.
“Why ask questions you know the answer to…?” Hiro offers.
“Fine. Then I’ll ask a different question.” Rei slams a fist onto his throne’s armrest, and Hiro winces a little. “What in the world is Akai Shuuichi doing here?!”
“Competing?”
“How?”
“I mean,” says Hiro, and flashes Rei another grin, “He applied?”
“What do you mean, he applied?!”
It hasn’t even been two years since Rei took the throne from Demon Lord Kuroda after the man’s voluntary abdication. And while it’s true that Rei had been skilled enough to triumph over every one of his opponents, he knows perfectly well that even a generation or two back, he wouldn’t have been offered the chance in the first place.
But it’s a new era. The demonic realms have signed an official peace treaty with the human kingdoms at last, and no one on either side wants to actually trigger the war that the Coven wanted so badly to instigate.
And giving a half-demon the opportunity to become the Demon Lord was seen as an excellent way to demonstrate they were sincere about peace. No one actually expected him to win.
(No one except Kuroda, perhaps. But Rei has always known he owed too much to his mentor.)
Rules were rules, though, and once Rei won, that was that. He was the Demon Lord, and unless he was vanquished or chose to abdicate, he would remain the Demon Lord.
That didn’t mean his reign was stable though. Too many of the warmongering older generations despised him and his too-human magic, and Rei has lost track of the number of assassination attempts that he’s had to thwart this past year.
This tournament was meant to quiet some of the voices against him. A traditional ceremony to choose a consort, one that hadn’t been held for some generations. Holding the ceremony in itself was politically favourable, and taking a full-blooded demon as his spouse would satisfy some of his detractors.
Which is why…
“Why would you let a quarter-demon into the tournament?!” Rei hisses. “That defeats the purpose!”
“You’re a half-demon.”
“Exactly!” snaps Rei. “My position is already unstable! I can’t take a quarter-demon as my consort! Especially not a hero!”
“If you wanted to veto competitors beforehand,” Hiro says cheerfully, “You shouldn’t have left me in charge of it.”
“I trusted you not to allow applicants in it for a laugh!”
“I think we both know Rye wouldn’t have applied as a joke.”
And Rei’s mouth falls shut, lips pressing into a thin line. He gazes back down at the coliseum grounds, silent.
The opening ceremony is set to begin first thing in the evening, once the final rays of the sun disappear far off in the horizon. Up here in this balcony, they’re so far from the coliseum grounds that it should be impossible for anyone to see their faces clearly.
Still, he can see that Akai is looking up at the balcony. And while Rei knows it’s impossible, he can’t help but feel as though their eyes meet- and that Akai smiles in response.
Clicking his tongue, Rei looks away.
“Half of the candidates are in it just for the prestige of competing,” says Hiro, quiet. “The other half are in it because of the power the position of Demon Consort would give them.” He shrugs. “No matter what, I wasn’t going to let there be no one who actually l-”
“-I don’t want to hear it, Hiro.”
Hiro cuts himself off with a sigh. “Look, you won’t tell me what happened while I was dead, so I won’t say you should forgive him.”
“Good,” says Rei. “I don’t.”
“But,” Hiro says doggedly, “I still miss Rye, you know?” His gaze goes piercing- uncomfortable, Rei holds back the urge to fidget with his horns. “And I think you do too.”
Rei clicks his tongue, and doesn’t admit to a thing. It doesn’t matter how much he missed Akai, at any rate.
“I’m disqualifying him from the tournament,” he says instead.
“You can’t do that,” Hiro responds, annoyingly cheerful. “It’s a sacred ceremony. They’re already on the grounds. It’s too late- you know that too.”
Crossing his arms over his cravat, Rei clicks his tongue again. “Fine. There’s other ways to get what I want.”
“Zero…”
“Perhaps it’s sacred, but it’s still a demonic ceremony,” Rei says, a bright and sunny smile blooming across his face. “It’s always been traditional for the reigning Demon Lord to rig things in favour of their preferred candidate.” His smile widens. “There should be no complaints if I do the opposite, especially to a human hero.”
“Really?” groans Hiro.
Rei holds out a hand. “Give me the tournament itinerary. I’ll be making some changes.”
And while Hiro gives him a wry look, he still does as Rei asks.
“You’re gonna regret this,” he warns.
“I’m certain I won’t.”
Rei spent almost a decade undercover as a Coven witch. Hiro, who was unmasked fairly quickly and spent years dead because of it, only had two years under his belt. Akai, similarly, was discovered a mere three years after his infiltration started.
The point is this: Rei is used to hiding his true feelings to an extent that no one around him really understands, not even Hiro or Akai. So much so, he’s not entirely sure of his own true feelings at times.
But his hatred for Akai, that pure, unadulterated loathing that filled his very being the moment he saw Rye with his bloody hand in Scotch’s chest-
That was real. It was so very viscerally real. So when Akai and Conan unveiled him as a spy years later, coerced him into cooperating with them with tales of ancient resurrection magic, and Rei spat-
“Never show your face to me again once we revive Scotch.”
-he meant every word, back then.
But once Rei spent years travelling with the hero’s party, once he grew far too used to rolling his eyes at Akai’s horrendous failures burning even curry, to trusting his back to Akai’s skill with a gun…
(Once Akai nearly sacrificed himself to bring back Hiro’s soul, which Rei hadn’t asked for, didn’t ask for, never would have asked for…)
Rei found himself far, far less certain that his hatred for Akai was still true. And far more certain that he cared for Akai, despite everything.
But then, the very day they dragged Hiro back from the land of the dead - before Hiro even had the chance to open his eyes after the ordeal - Akai smiled at Rei, and said, “I haven’t forgotten. You’ll never see me again.”
His chest aching with inexplicable pain, Rei’s hands clenched around Hiro’s sleeping body. But the only thing that left his mouth was an emotionless- “Good.”
And so Akai left, and so he never showed himself in front of Rei again, just as promised.
Until now.
Per tradition, exactly one hundred candidates are chosen to compete in the tournament- Rei knows for a fact that there were more applicants than just that. Which means that Hiro purposefully let Akai in over other, no-doubt more qualified applicants.
Rei knows why Hiro did it. But Hiro hadn’t been the only one to review the applicant list.
“Kazami,” says Rei, glaring down at the demon kneeling in front of him.
“Furuya-sama?” Kazami says, looking vaguely nervous.
It’s understandable. Rei did call Kazami to the throne room alone, and the throne room is peerlessly intimidating. It was created by demon lords of years past to serve as a battleground against heroes- not as the centre of government that it’s been for the past century. The walls are dark carved stone, trailing up in sharp lines to the ceiling high above, and stained glass windows glitter a deep red behind the throne.
(It’s also barely lit, but thankfully, Rei didn’t inherit humanity's lacking night vision. He can see perfectly well even in the dim magelight.)
Rei slaps a sheaf of papers against his throne’s armrest. “You reviewed this list of applicants with Hiro, did you not?”
“I did,” Kazami says cautiously.
“So then,” says Rei, voice frigid, “Why did you agree to allow Akai Shuuichi through?”
“He was more than qualified,” answers Kazami, a hint of confusion to his voice.
“How?” Rei demands, incredulous. “His heritage alone- he’s the heir apparent to a human duchy. He can’t marry abroad.”
He has a life in the human kingdoms- a family that loves him, fellow knights who care for him, and his former comrades in the hero’s party just a hop and a step over the border. It’s far more difficult to traverse between the demonic realms and the human kingdoms, unstable mana at its borders blocking any kind of teleportation or flight.
“Ah,” says Kazami, his expression clearing. “You haven’t heard- the Akai duchy will be inherited by the first daughter, Masumi. Hero Shuuichi renounced his claim to the heirship some months back.”
Rei wants desperately to pinch his nose, but he does try to keep some dignity when sitting in the throne room. Even when he’s speaking with a trusted retainer in private.
Perhaps he shouldn’t be so surprised that a man who ran off to join the knighthood at eighteen would discard his noble title so easily. But Akai had remained the technical heir to his duchy for as long as Rei knew him, even while they both journeyed far from the human kingdoms for years. His title as a hero meant Duchess Mary was hesitant to disown him, even if Akai was a failure of an heir.
It’s strange that Akai would finally officially renounce his heirship now, of all times. Rei chooses not to think too deeply on the implications.
“Regardless,” says Rei, “A hero can’t possibly marry a demon lord.”
“I did think so as well,” says Kazami, “But Morofushi-sama noted that a hero certainly has the skills needed to succeed as the Demon Consort, and little matters more than that.”
Giving up on his dignity, Rei buries his face into a hand.
This is, admittedly, the entire reason why he appointed Kazami as his grand chancellor. Kazami never cared about Rei’s human blood- he respected Rei for his skills, and has always been doggedly loyal despite everything Rei put him through during his time undercover.
Of course he wouldn’t care that Akai is mostly human, or that he’s a hero traditionally meant to vanquish demon lords. Not marry them.
“Furuya-sama?”
“Dismissed,” Rei says with a sigh, and waves his hand.
What’s done is done. All he can do now, really, is damage control. He can’t possibly marry Akai, not after he told Akai to never show his face in front of him again, not with how many times he’s tried to kill the man.
Not when there’s still no forgiveness in his heart.
And besides, the entire point of this song and dance is to silence his political opponents- through marrying a proper, full-blooded demon. He’s looking for a convenient political match and nothing more. There’s a reason why he hadn’t bothered to vet the list of applicants personally. His own preferences made no difference, so long as the candidate met the bare minimum criteria.
Which Akai doesn’t.
Because Akai is even more human than Rei, because all marrying him will do is create another target for assassins. Because the point of this tournament isn’t to marry someone he loves, and it most certainly isn’t to marry someone who loves him back.
Not that Akai does, of course. He would be quite the idiot if he did.
(Rei tries not to think about how Akai has always been a bit of an idiot when it comes to him.)
“It’s perfect, Furuya-chan!” Hagiwara exclaims, chair creaking under him as he leans back. Matsuda squints next to him, looking less impressed.
“I can’t believe you’re really doing this,” Hiro says, amusement dancing in his eyes. He's right by the door, paces behind them both- he hadn't bothered to venture too far into this overwhelming mess of a room.
“If I’m doing this, I’m doing this right,” says Rei.
He shifts on his own rickety chair. Hagiwara and Matsuda both deserve far better than this old, cramped room stuffed with overflowing bookshelves and spare parts from magical tools. And they do, in fact, have a larger, official office where all their subordinates work. But they’ve worked in this room since before Rei appointed them as generals, and refused to move even after their promotion. Rei really doesn’t get them sometimes.
Lifting the mirror in his hand, Rei gauges his new look.
A simple hairstyling spell that even Rei is familiar with has dyed his hair silver and grown it out- long enough to tie back in a neat ponytail. A new ring of disguise is enough to transform his horns. They trail up from his forehead now, thin and long, though still black. White silk is tied around his eyes as a decorative blindfold, though embroidered seals ensure that he can see through it almost like air.
He looks like the father he’s never met, instead of the half-blood he’s always been.
The blindfold is embroidered with a mild camouflaging seal as well, enough to change his voice and compel people away from recognizing him. The disguise would probably work with most everyone even without it. But Rei isn’t stupid enough to think that Akai wouldn’t recognize him without at least some magical defenses, even a year and a half since they last met.
It didn’t take much for Rei to recognize Akai after three years apart, after all. He would be offended if Akai couldn’t do the same.
Unfortunately, Rei doesn’t have access to any true experts in disguise, not like Akai did. He’s certainly not on speaking terms with Vermouth anymore, and it isn’t as though he could ask Queen Yukiko for a favour like this. But Matsuda and Hagiwara at least have more familiarity than Rei with this kind of magic, and so that’s who Rei went to for help.
“Could be worse, I guess,” Matsuda says begrudgingly. “But it’d be better if you went with blood.”
With blood willingly given, Matsuda could make a tool to transform Rei in ways that rivaled even Vermouth’s cruel spells. But they would need to involve one of Hiro’s subordinates for that - both to get their blood, and to shoo them off on the day of the trial - and unfortunately for Matsuda-
“I already told you,” says Rei, “I don’t plan to involve anyone I don’t trust.”
“So give it up, Jinpei-chan,” Hagiwara says, cheerful.
Matsuda clicks his tongue, looking no less satisfied. But Hagiwara just laughs.
“And for the final touch,” continues Hagiwara, plopping a faintly glowing feystone into Rei’s free hand. Rei clenches around its rough crystalline surface. “Jinpei-chan and I poured our mana into that. It’ll stop your magic from feeling so human, at least until the mana runs out.”
“Thank you,” Rei says, smiling slightly. He slips the feystone into a pocket.
“Anytime!”
“I still need a name to register you as a judge,” Hiro calls over.
“Amuro,” Rei says immediately. “Pick a first name for me.”
Amuro Tooru was the name he chose when going undercover. But Kuroda decided to have him pose as human-raised in the end - granting him a minor ring of disguise to hide his horns - and human commoners have no surnames. He went by Tooru alone during his time in the human kingdoms.
He’s still fond of Amuro as a name though. It’s a good opportunity to use it, and the first name didn’t particularly matter. No one would call him by it.
“Amuro,” Hiro repeats, scribbling it down on his clipboard. His brow furrows. “And you’re sure about this first trial?”
“It has precedent,” Rei says. Of course it does. He isn’t stupid enough to welcome criticism by kicking off the tournament with an unprecedented trial. “The twenty-first Demon Lord had quite the refined palate, and wanted her consort to match her culinary skills.” He waves a hand, dismissive. “I plan to have every round of this tournament reflect a past Demon Lord’s trials.”
“Ha. That’ll make the old geezers happy,” Matsuda laughs.
“You shouldn’t call them that,” Hiro says, voice dry. “…But you’re not wrong.” He straightens up, drawing his clipboard under an arm. “Alright. Amuro will be registered as one of the judges for the first trial tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Hiro,” Rei says.
“You’re welcome,” says Hiro. “But I think Rye will surprise you.”
Rei huffs, and doesn’t bother deigning that with a response.
Theoretically speaking, each round of the tournament would halve the pool of candidates, leading to a total of six rounds. But traditionally, candidates tended to kill, maim, and blackmail each other during the course of the tournament, often leading to a win by default by the sixth.
Akai wouldn’t have to worry about that though. That kind of court intrigue only tended to begin in the third trial onwards.
And there’s no way that Akai is making it past the first.
“-the thirty-third match, Akai Shuuichi, hero of the western kingdom, versus-”
Bored as he is, Rei still makes himself look attentive as the commentator announces the matchups from up in his box.
Yamamura Misao is a remarkably incompetent man, and if it weren’t for the fact he worked in the castle since long before Rei took the throne, Rei might’ve suspected Hiro of nepotism. As it is though, for once his incompetence is playing in his favour- the audience seems to find the way he trips around his commentary to be amusing.
…Though Rei is reluctant to admit it.
With a hundred competitors, there needs to be a total of fifty matches in the first round. The tournament is held in a coliseum to entertain the public, but it would be rather dull to sit through fifty matches of any kind in a row. So the coliseum grounds have been divided into ten, such that multiple matches can take place at once. Five ten-match rounds, with an intermission for lunch in between, is more reasonable.
Naturally, Rei is sitting as a judge in the same section as Akai. Luckily for him, it’s not expected for the Demon Lord or any of his Four Generals to do much during the first couple trials. Hiro is sitting up in the balcony with Date and Hagiwara and an illusion of Rei for company, and that’s enough to fulfill his duties for now.
Rei has three matches to make it through today before he can fail Akai, and one match to judge after that. He may be here for Akai, but he still intends to fulfil his duties as a culinary judge to the best of his ability.
This first round is a cooking battle, after all.
But it doesn’t take Rei too long to regret sitting in as a judge. In retrospect, he should’ve expected it. Many of the competitors are from distinguished families who haven’t so much as touched a frying pan, and many of the remainder have devoted their lives to battle and nothing else. Three matches pass by, and for each one, neither Rei nor his two co-judges give scores greater than six out of ten.
If a passing score were required to make it to round two, Rei suspects only a handful would make it through. Luckily for them though, all that’s needed is to be better than their opponent.
But Rei has no doubt that Akai won’t be able to manage even that.
A bell rings out from the commentator's box, marking the end of the current round. The competitors exit to the right-
And Akai enters from the left, his opponent right on his heels. Rei finds himself swallowing, though he’s careful to keep his face impassive.
It’s the first time in well over a year that he’s seen Akai from this close. With the coliseum divided in ten, each section isn’t particularly large. There’s only a couple paces separating the judge’s table from each candidate’s cooking station- a counter, a stove, an oven anyone could use with a bit of mana to power it.
Akai looks little different than the last time Rei saw him, and Rei isn’t quite sure if that’s good or bad. The red highlights on Akai’s black trenchcoat are as bright as ever, and he’s still wearing that stupid brimmed, belted hat of his. His pistol, with its intricate golden carvings, is tucked uselessly in his belt filled with ammo- vindictively, Rei hopes Akai is despairing at not being able to use it. And his mana wavelength-
It’s exactly the same as it was two years ago.
(Rei isn’t too sure how he feels about that.)
But something still feels wrong, something is making his chest ache, and it’s not the novel way Akai’s eyes glow faintly green from a night vision charm. It takes a moment for Rei to realize what it actually is.
When he first came in, Akai’s eyes passed over Rei like he wasn’t there.
It’s only natural. Rei is in disguise- it’s good that Akai doesn’t think anything of him, because it means he hasn’t been found out.
But he wants to slam his head against the table for feeling so dismayed just from Akai dismissing him. This is why Hiro let Akai into the tournament in the first place, and Hiro hasn’t even seen Rei with Akai since before his death.
Rei needs to get a grip. He still has no forgiveness in his heart, not when it comes to this man.
No matter if he has, in fact, missed him.
The bell rings again, marking the start of the next round, and so Rei brings the voice amplification feystone to his mouth.
“Welcome, candidates,” he says, simple and polite. There’s no need for any preamble- the competitors were already briefed at the start of the trial. So Rei jumps right into it. “The theme for your match-” he keeps his face impassive, “-is eggs. Best of luck. Your fifty minutes begin now.”
Rei turns the hourglass on the table, and watches as both Akai and his opponent bustle off to a table filled with ingredients in the back. What a joke. Akai doesn’t stand a chance.
He holds back a sly smile as Akai, brow furrowed, lifts a large purple egg into the air.
Cuisine varies greatly across both the human kingdoms and demonic realms. But there are certainly ubiquitous ingredients. Wheat and rice, cabbage and potatoes, tomatoes and eggplant- countless crops are grown throughout the known world.
The demonic realms, however, are unique in their livestock. Few demons keep chickens for eggs- they keep basilisks or cockatrices instead, or just forage for monster eggs in the woods.
Even if Akai could cook - which he couldn’t - he would struggle with these eggs. Chicken eggs are far easier to cook with than even the least magical monster egg.
As the head judge of this section, Rei had the right to choose the theme for the bout- and he used it to ensure Akai’s complete and utter downfall.
Almost humming, Rei settles in to enjoy the rare sight of Akai failing pathetically.
Rei stares blankly at the plate in front of him.
“Amuro-san?” asks a judge next to him. “Have you decided on your score?”
“I…”
Objectively speaking, the food sitting on his plate is simple. Mediocre. It’s nothing but a rolled egg omelette, garnished with a sprig of parsley and a tomato salad. Rei could’ve made something far better with the same ingredients.
But it’s perfectly made. The egg has been carefully seasoned with herbs and grounded garlic to offset the gamey taste of wild wyvern eggs, and it’s a dull lilac, a sure sign it’s been cooked well.
This is the best-cooked meal he’s seen all day.
Rei barely stops himself from staring at Akai. Was it an imposter in front of him? But no, Rei would recognize Akai Shuuichi and his little idiosyncrasies anywhere. There’s no doubt that Akai was the one cooking, despite the impossibility of Akai being the one cooking.
Akai learned how to cook? When? How? Why?
“Amuro-san?”
Thankfully though, Rei has no need to be objective and fair with his judgment. He’s a demon, after all. Don’t humans always say they’re cruel and heartless?
It’s only right to live up to that reputation.
Rei draws the voice-amp to his mouth, the very picture of an impassive, unbiased judge.
“This meal is far too simple to even deserve judgment,” he says, matter-of-fact. “Zero points.”
Akai blinks once, a sure sign of surprise despite his otherwise impassive face. But he doesn’t look angry, and unfortunately, Rei knows exactly why.
Reluctantly, Rei continues.
“That gives Akai-san a total of nineteen points-” he says, “-while Miyazaki-san received only thirteen. Akai Shuuichi will proceed to the second round.”
Rei curses that he hadn’t thought to inflate Akai’s opponent’s score. He judged the meal fairly instead. To be fair, even in his wildest dreams, he wouldn’t have predicted that Akai could present something this edible.
“Well fought,” Rei says, keeping the bite he feels from his voice, and the bell rings to mark the end of the round.
Now that Akai has made it past the first trial, “Amuro” has no choice but to stick around for a little longer than initially planned. For the duration of the tournament, Rei has himself assigned as one of Hiro’s subordinates helping with planning, coordination, and organization. He still has his own duties as the Demon Lord to attend to, so he can’t always be Amuro- but he can be Amuro often enough to blend in.
A new face in itself isn’t suspicious, especially as Rei is disguising as a demon from the northern clans. Plenty of workers have been called in from the outer provinces to help organize this tournament, after all. It would, however, be suspicious if Rei alone was never seen outside of tournament matches. And suspicion could lead to discovery, which Rei would prefer to avoid.
Rigging the tournament is acceptable. Getting involved so personally would be a different story. The Demon Lord is meant to be above anything so menial, and being discovered would mean another thing for the elder officials to titter about.
But Rei doesn’t mind the extra work, menial or not. He’s missed blending into the background, and acting as a nondescript castle official is perfect for that.
Though it seems he’s no longer nondescript in everyone’s eyes.
“Oh?” says Akai as he steps into the tent. The tent flap falls closed and locks automatically behind him, privacy wards rising. Rei set it up that way to observe each candidate in isolation, but he’s mildly regretting that now.
Akai’s eyes shift almost immediately to Rei, and Rei hates how he wants to preen with satisfaction under the attention, especially after being dismissed earlier today.
The competitors gain new privileges as they win through trials. The initial hundred are provided a two-use teleportation seal, for travel between their homes and the capital. The second trial’s fifty, meanwhile, are provided with lodging in the castle town for the duration of the tournament. By trial four, the last few competitors are given guest rooms in the castle itself, and an audience with the Demon Lord.
This tent, pitched right outside the coliseum grounds, is where they’ve been processing lodging for the second-round competitors. Rei volunteered for the role, and Hiro agreed to it. It’s a good opportunity to see how the competitors interact with those they see as lesser than them, after all. No matter their pedigree, Rei has no intention of marrying someone who might treat those he cares for with disdain.
Unfortunately, it also gives Akai the opportunity to see him.
“You’re that judge,” Akai observes, walking up to Rei’s desk. “Amuro-kun, was it?”
“Amuro-san,” Rei corrects, short but polite. “I did serve as a judge in today’s trials, yes. Did I happen to oversee yours?” He tilts his head. “My apologies. I'm afraid I’ve forgotten.”
Akai hums, his gaze gauging. “You did oversee my trial, yes. I won.”
“I see,” says Rei. He holds out a hand. “Then if you’d provide me with your candidate card for verification, I can process your lodging.”
“Before that,” says Akai. His hand draws to his chin. “Do you happen to work for Furuya-kun?”
“Every castle official works under Demon Lord Furuya,” Rei says, which certainly isn’t a lie.
For some reason, Akai’s lips quirk up as though he’s won. Rei holds back the urge to glare.
“You work more closely with him than that, don’t you?” Akai asks.
Rei raises an eyebrow. “And why would you think that?”
“You claimed not to recognize me, and complained about my address for you,” says Akai. “And yet, you didn’t complain about my address for Furuya-kun. Your superior.”
A decent point, but easily refuted. Rei raises an eyebrow under his blindfold. “Have you considered that I could simply hate humans?”
“So you do recognize me,” Akai says, amused, then- “I doubt you’d work under a half-human lord if that were the case.”
Rei holds back a scoff. He wishes. If he dismissed everyone in the castle who looked down on him for his human blood, their government wouldn’t function.
“Perhaps I’m waiting for my chance to stab him in the back.”
“And I doubt a typical castle official would admit so easily to treason.”
That much, at least, is true. Assassinations are looked down, seen as cowardly- duels are the proper way to go. Sadly, most of those who hate him aren’t stupid enough to think they could beat him in a proper fight.
“What exactly is your point?” Rei asks, giving in.
“My friends in the audience,” says Akai, “said that you judged fairly for every trial but mine.”
“Is that so?” Rei says mildly. “Would you like to submit a complaint?”
Akai snorts. “No. I know it would do nothing. Furuya-kun ordered you to treat me differently, didn’t he?”
“I’ve received no such orders from Furuya-sama,” says Rei, completely truthfully. Unsurprisingly, Akai still doesn’t seem to believe him.
“Could you forward a message to him?”
“I’m afraid an ordinary castle official like myself has no way to speak with the Demon Lord,” Rei demurs.
“Then,” says Akai, “I’ll say what I’d like, and you can choose whether to pass it on.”
“As I said, I can’t forward any messages,” Rei says. “But if you’ll leave afterwards, by all means. Speak.”
“Thank you,” Akai says. “I’d like to apologize for breaking my promise to him. But I knew I would regret it, if I didn’t come. After all-”
His expression shifts- it’s painfully soft, but it’s looking straight through Rei. Or rather- it’s looking straight through Amuro. Rei knows who Akai is thinking about with that too-gentle expression, no matter that he wishes he didn’t.
“-I’m certain that no one can make him happier than me.”
Rei barely manages to stop himself from choking on thin air.
“You’re quite confident,” he says, measured.
“Of course. I won’t lose in a battle of love,” Akai says next, a smile playing at his lips now, and Rei wants to scream.
“I’m impressed you can say such things without an ounce of embarrassment,” Rei says, voice strangled despite his best efforts.
“I will admit it’s easier without Furuya-kun around.”
“Right,” mutters Rei. He holds out his hand again. “If you’re finally satisfied, may I have your candidate card?”
“Yes, of course.” Akai slips the metallic plate out from a pocket, sliding it onto Rei’s open palm. “Thank you, Amuro-kun.”
“Amuro-san.”
Thankfully, Akai leaves without further ado once Rei finishes the paperwork and gets him his inn room’s key. And thankfully still, no one but Rei heard Akai’s ridiculous declarations. Even if anyone wandered by, the tent’s privacy wards would’ve prevented any eavesdropping.
At least, that’s what Rei thinks.
But barely a minute after Akai walks out the tent flap, hysterical laughter rings out from behind him. Rei jerks around, paling. Hiro is slipping in through a slit in the tent and its wards, face flushed with laughter, hand pressed against his mouth.
“What are you doing here?” Rei hisses. “How much did you hear?”
“I charmed the tent to alert me if Rye came in,” says Hiro. “Got here in time to hear enough.” He snickers, then devolves into a fit of laughter again. “Battle - aha - of love…”
“It’s so ridiculous I can’t even laugh,” grumbles Rei. “…Do you think he’s figured me out? It may have been a joke.”
“No,” Hiro says with another laugh. “I think he really meant it.”
“That’s worse.”
“It really is,” says Hiro, delighted. Rei glares with all his might, but Hiro looks no less cheerful. “Man. Rye’s really changed, huh? He’s certain he can make you-”
“-I’ve decided what we’ll do for the second trial,” Rei cuts in, voice filled with irritation. “And I assure you, Akai is done for. This time for sure.”
“But,” says Hiro, drawing his hand back up to cover his mouth. It’s not enough to hide his grin though. “He won’t lose in a battle of l-”
Rei, making an unintelligible noise, buries his face in his hands.
“Your ears are red.”
“Be quiet, Hiro.”
-4.
Akai has always been ridiculously confident, obnoxiously arrogant- as Rye, as Okiya Subaru, as himself. So perhaps Rei shouldn’t be so surprised that Akai is so confident about marrying him as well- but he still is, in the end.
It was the worst with Rye. Rei gnashed his teeth over Rye’s infuriating ego countless times, made all the worse whenever Rye actually backed his words up with action.
But that didn’t mean that Akai wasn’t still arrogant. His arrogance was tempered, yes- by his extra years of maturity, perhaps. But it still existed.
And Rei has been stung by it more than once.
“You fool!”
Running as fast as he can with the dead weight slung over his shoulder, Rei digs his nails into Akai’s back out of sheer spite.
And yet, Akai still laughs. “My apologies, Tooru-kun.”
The knife-bird screeches behind them, a painfully grating cry- Rei is forced to dodge another spray of daggers. He mostly succeeds, though a knife still grazes his arm.
With every cry, the stupid bird is getting louder- which means it’s gaining on them. But while the forest is close, it’s not close enough.
Clicking his tongue, Rei gathers mana in his free hand, then lobs a fireball vaguely behind him. They’re racing through a rocky outcrop, barely any plants to be seen. The risk of causing a fire is negligible, and fire magic has always come easiest to Rei.
Unfortunately, there’s no sound of impact, no screech of pain from the knife-bird.
“You missed,” says Akai. “A little higher, perhaps.”
“Shut up!” snaps Rei, but still gathers another fireball in his palm. He lobs it again, higher this time- and the knife-bird shrieks with pain.
“A hit,” Akai observes. “But it’ll recover soon.”
“I’m aware!” Rei hisses. Gritting his teeth, throat aching, he forces his legs to keep moving, forces himself to keep racing over craggy rock to their goal. The forest is finally within reach, and the knife-bird is far too big to follow them between the trees.
One step, two - ten steps, twenty - Rei bursts through the bushes, but keeps going for a little longer, at least until they’re surrounded by thick trees. The knife-bird screeches with fury, but no knives reach them through the brush. Another cry, quieter this time, and Rei finally breathes out a sigh of relief, collapsing to the ground.
He shoves Akai off his shoulder while he’s at it. Even with body-strengthening magic to lighten the load, Akai is far too heavy. He lands on some leaves with a grunt, but Rei refuses to feel guilty. The man would recover.
Rei takes a few moments to compose himself, panting heavily- but it doesn’t take long for him to shoot an infuriated glare at Akai.
“What were you thinking?” he snaps.
Nonchalant, Akai shrugs. “I was hundreds of paces away. I expected to kill it in a single hit.”
Slipping a dagger out from his belt, he cuts at the shredded fabric at his left ankle, tossing the useless fabric away to reveal the bloody wounds underneath. It’s an utter mess, and some of the cuts are still bleeding- they need to get Akai to a healer sooner than later, but all they can do now is clean it up.
Wordlessly, Rei flicks his hand to spray the wound with a steady stream of water. Ice cold, at least- it's mildly satisfying seeing Akai wince.
“Thank you,” Akai says, but Rei glowers in response.
“Did you seriously think you could defeat a knife-bird in a single blow-” hisses Rei, stemming the stream of water, “-or did you just think you could vanquish any monster you didn’t recognize with ease?”
“The latter,” Akai says blithely. He slips bandages out from his item bag, begins tying his leg tight.
“Do you think you’re invincible just because you’re a hero?” Rei bites out. “It would be trivial for the Demon Lord to destroy you as you are now.”
“If you say so, then I suppose it’s true.”
“Maybe you ought to stop patronizing me and start listening,” Rei snaps, furious. “You were just almost killed by a common monster. Why did you even rip out Scotch’s heart if it wasn’t for power?!”
Akai falls silent, but of course he does. The ritual Akai killed Hiro to complete- he’s never breathed a word of what it was for, and Rei has no reason to believe that Akai would finally talk today.
Was it shame, perhaps, or fear? Humans loathe even the most harmless ritual. Committing a ritual of sacrifice would have Akai thrown into jail in any human land. He certainly wouldn’t be treated as a hero if it were known.
Fury blooming in his chest, Rei jumps to his feet.
“I’m going scouting,” Rei says, voice blazing with barely-suppressed anger. He flips around, away from Akai, away from the man he could barely stand to see. “We need to reconvene with the rest of the party. Try not to die, I suppose.”
“Stay safe, Tooru-kun,” says Akai, quiet.
Rei doesn’t respond, can’t respond. But he doubts that Akai expects one. Because for all of Akai’s arrogance-
Akai has always been less arrogant, less presumptuous, when it came to Rei.
(And Rei can’t help but wonder why that changed.)