"The frugal lord extends an invite. Should I be afraid?"
The faded lavender noren curtains parted as two men walked into a quaint restaurant, seated deep in the desolate streets of the otherwise bustling city.
It was an old establishment, the furniture worn and decoloured. The walls behind the counter were decorated with old photographs. The inside glowed with warm amber light, which appeared extra bright as they walked away from the empty night sky.
And from a counter, outside of their perception, the sound of static radio, through which the anchor, a man with a deep, no-nonsense tone, delivers.
"Good evening. It is 22:43 here in Tokyo. Tonight brings the completion of the lunar cycle. It is the night when the full moon is due. However, there is no moon in the sky--"
The proprietress, a gentle lady with grey hair and a benign smile, stood behind the counter, wiping the plates clean. As they entered, her head lifted to greet them with a practised politeness, "Welcome."
The taller man with natural two-toned dark hair with golden bangs and a clever face raised two fingers in a lazy greeting that spoke of long familiarity, " 'Sup, granny chie. How have you been?"
Beside him, the boy with chestnut hair tilted his head, 'Granny?"
Azazel ignored him. His eyes settled on 'Granny Chie', watching as her old, glassy eyes gained a tint of confusion. For a silent moment, she went through her haggard memories, searching for anyone resembling the Azazel standing before her, before she gave up, "You are...?"
Azazel gasped, clutching his heart, "It's me...Aza. Don't tell me you forgot."
Issei looked down at Azazel's other hand hanging by his side, away from the proprietress, the fingers rubbing together with deliberate purpose. Another moment, and the lady's old eyes began to gain shades of recognition, "Ah…"
Issei tuned away. "I'll be sitting on the far end." He said, walking towards the pre-arranged table and plopping down on the seat by the aisle. After some waiting and listening to the chitter-chatter of the other patrons, Azazel joined him, looking smug as ever.
Issei gave him a side eye, "That was completely unnecessary, by the way."
"Sure was," Azazel snorts, nudging his shoulder, "Now slide. We have important things to discuss."
Issei pointed his chin ahead, towards the chairs on the other side of the table, grumbling. However, he was already shifting towards the wall. "Take one of those, asshole."
"It's Uncle for you, brat." He smirked, sitting down.
Without delay, Azazel's index finger rapped twice against the polished wooden surface, and immediately, the fan spinning overhead, the hushed talk of other patrons, the anchor's flat delivery, and the clatter of plates all receded.
Issei looked around. Other customers were still chatting, the fan was still spinning, the proprietress had stopped drying the plates, but was now talking to the man in the back. He couldn't hear any of it, leaving them in a dome of loud silence with only the tapping of his feet and the creaks of the worn-down chair between them.
To confirm, he clapped twice. When nobody reacted to it, he reclined back.
"So, what's with the sudden meeting, Zaza?"
Azazel's lips quirked, "Hmm?" He swished his fingers side-to-side as he answered, "I was just missing my favourite student."
Issei deadpanned, "Just out with it, cheapskate."
Azazel laughed out, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay, geez. Loosen up, will ya?" He reclined his head against his knuckles and looked him up and down appraisingly, looking for any signs of bruise or harm.
"But before we go to that, how did the last one go? Not too troubling, I hope."
Issei's eyes brightened immediately- the luminescent golden specks dusting his otherwise muddy brown irises glowed faintly, "Not too bad, indeed. Aside from the few shallow cuts on the shoulders and thighs, everything worked out well. If things keep going this way, I'd surely have six packs in about a decade."
"Anything about Kokabiel? Were the runaways working for him?"
Issei shook his head, the overgrown side bangs swaying with him, "Didn't find anything that could lead to cocacola. But they were working with the church's exiles."
"That's not uncommon," Azazel stroked his goatee, shrugging a moment later. "Whatever, Baraquel will deal with it. Let's focus on you for now."
He adjusted his chair slightly, turning it inwards to better look at Issei directly in the eye, "Your eyes have gotten paler again."
"Have they?" Issei frowned, "You think it's bled further yellow?"
"It has." Azazel affirmed, "Just a while back, they were rare. Like specks of light in the sky, but now it has congregated in this striking ringed layer in the cornea."
Issei covered one with his hand, his voice plain, "Yeah, I get increasingly weirded-out looks from strangers." He leaned closer to Azazel and pulled his eyelids open, and asked in a pleading voice, "Does it look good at least? Tell me it looks good, like the mysterious magic eyes type in novels. I am begging."
Azazel pursed his lips, "It looks unnerving."
"Like the sharp, hunter eyes type?"
"The creepy type."
Issei slumped down, deflated. Knowing that others won't hear him, he groaned out loud, "Man, I ain't even gotten laid yet, and I already got a woman repellent built in eyes. Fuck my life."
Azazel reached out to pat Issei's shoulders, "It's not that bad. There are people with weird preferences out there that—"
"Azazel?"
Halfway into the pep talk, they heard a smooth voice cut through the silence established around their table. It ignored the sound barrier laid out and, though it was spoken rather softly, they heard it loud and clear.
They looked ahead to find the speaker standing two feet away from their table with his partner, looking at them, Azazel in particular, with great surprise. It belonged to a tall man wearing an extravagant tailored suit. He stood poised and had an air of importance around him. His long, red hair and sharp cerulean eyes were no less striking.
Beside him stood his partner. A beautiful woman with alabaster skin, long, luscious silver hair that flowed down her sinuous form. But more importantly, she was wearing proper maid attire.
Needless to say, they looked completely out of place in this small establishment. While the man looked like one of those businessmen who regularly dined in restaurants where the reservation lines stretched infinitely, the woman looked like she'd walked straight out of a manga set in late 19th or early 20th-century Europe.
"Cosplayers?" Issei wondered aloud. He felt like he knew them, but he couldn't put his finger on where exactly.
Meh…if he can't remember them, they must not be that important.
Azazel's brows shot up. "Sirzechs?" He stood up, pushing the chair skidding back, and offered his hand to the redhead, who shook it firmly. "What are the chances?!"
He also greeted the silver-haired woman with a friendly nod, though not before Issei caught him checking her out quickly, "You too, Grayfia. How have you been?"
The blank-faced maid bowed curtsy, "I have been good, Governor General. Thanks for your concern."
"Haha, always so formal." Azazel pointed at the seats on the opposite side, "Come, take a seat."
"Formal, indeed." Issei quipped"
"Ah, right!" Azazel turned towards Issei, who'd been watching it silently, and introduced the two devils to him, "Issei, meet my good friends- Sirzechs and Grayfia. They are the satan and the strongest queen of the underworld.
And then towards the Couple, "Sirzechs and Grayfia, this here is Issei; my student and nephew."
"The Lucifer?" Issei's head snapped towards Azazel. His back straightened as he looked back at one of the four Satans, apparently also called the strongest devil in history, and a superdevil, before they squinted in suspicion.
He measured Sirzech up and down, the corner of his lips rising slightly, "Aside from being a tad too handsome, he looks pretty normal to me."
Sirzechs' lips curved up at that. He pulled the chair for Grayfia first and then sat himself down. He crossed his fingers over the table, "Normal, hm? Young Issei, were you expecting the satans to have big horns and four arms like in the stories?"
Issei poured himself a little water into the ceramic glass and brought it to his lips, "Not really. I have met my fair share of super old, and super strong peeps- and they all, except for Yasaka, have had a boring ass character design."
He took a small sip, "But you've got the shitty Bael blood in your veins."
"..."
Sirzechs' next words died in his throat.
Issei leaned back in his chair as he calmly sipped his water, making loud slurping noises.
Grayfia's mask cracked slightly at the snark directed at Sirzechs. Her nose twitched slightly, "You said he was your student. Do you also happen to teach him that, Governor General?"
The Governor General wasn't looking at that. Since Issei opened his mouth, he had been strategically working out the craftsmanship of the table; his palm had been conveniently covering his mouth, and the failed attempts at whistling under his breath were not doing him any favours.
A beat of silence settled over their table, where they all just stared at each other wordlessly. In the meantime, Granny Chie served their orders, "Here's your order." 3 bowls of Ramen for Azazel and the demon couple, and a bowl of plain Kake soba for him.
She slid their respective orders over them and took her leave, giving Azazel a nod, "There you go, Aza."
*Ahem*
As she left, Issei put his glass down and coughed in his hand." Sorry for that. It was unbecoming of me." He said, looking too smug to be apologetic about it, "I just had a bad experience with that particular clan."
He kept eye contact with Sirzechs as he picked up his chopsticks. Watching him, Sirzechs' shoulders began to shake slightly, trying his best to keep his expression schooled. But ultimately, he burst out in laughter. "Oh my….You were right, Azazel."
Issei wasn't sure whether that laugh was genuine or a practiced one to ease the tension in the air. But given the way Grayfia's tensed shoulder eased considerably, he would assume it was the former.
Azazel, who'd been studying the table's worn edges, looked back up, a victorious grin playing on his lips.
"This one has got quite the tongue on him." The red-haired devil wheezed, wiping an imaginary tear away.
"Told ya." Azazel laughed along. He tapped his fingers in the centre of the table, crooking his fingers, "Now hand it over."
Grayfia sighed like she was done with it, muttering something about, 'Bunch of kids…' as she conjured a silver magic circle and slid a small mysterious bottle over to him. The man with a goatee snatched the bottle and giddily pocketed it. "There you go, Lord Azazel."
Issei side-eyed Azazel, but he shooed him away, "Shoo Shoo, it's not for children."
"Whatever…" He grabbed his bowl and slurped a mouthful of soba, staring back at the redhead who had been watching him with twinkling eyes now, "What? Not even gonna try salvaging this plot with your porn-level acting?"
He shook his head, "There's no point in it. You already figured it out when we entered, didn't you?"