Cash

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two things are certain in human lifetimes: birth and death. The latter of which you’d been constantly reminded of during your stay in the Devildom, with your life being threatened at almost every turn in the beginning.

You were almost accustomed to seeing it around you. A lower tier demon scuffle here, a severe punishment to an unruly magical beast there. It was inevitable when living in the embodiment of hell.

And yet, when the news arrived from the human world, from your family, courtesy of Lucifer, you could not say you were unaffected in that same way. You’d known it to be inevitable, and your relative had lived a full life, so why couldn’t you just accept it?

You forced yourself to keep it together, your life far too busy to be able to let yourself slip into the dark pit you so badly wanted to crawl into. No matter the guilt from not being present when it happened, or the sheer loss of someone so close to you, there was nothing you could do now besides keeping on living while they rested. You owed them that much.

So you kept smiling, kept diffusing the countless chaotic arguments that would naturally spur in the House of Lamentation, kept showing up to student council meetings, all in hopes of distracting yourself; and it was during one of these that one demon caught on quickly on the way your gaze betrayed the sadness, the weight of grief laboring your eyelids and your posture.

“MC, would you mind staying behind for a moment? I’d like a word with you”

It was none other than the demon prince himself. Diavolo smiled appreciatively at your assent, and as the others dissipated from the room, you tried to recount if you’d forgotten any special requests of his.

“MC.” He began.

“Yes, Lord Diavolo?”

His laughter boomed from his chest, before settling in an inviting smile.

“No need to be so formal. Please, come here” he motioned for you to join him, pulling another chair close to his. You complied, slumping a bit before catching yourself, his golden eyes following your movements attentively. He cut to the chase, ever so practical.

“Lucifer told me what has happened, I want you to know that I am deeply sorry, and that you have my condolences. If you want to take some time off, I support it.”

He encompassed your hand with his own, warm and firm, his expression sure and understanding, while you grappled with some of the surprise. Of all people, you didn’t exactly expect Diavolo, who was often too oblivious to others’ negativity (and too busy to handle it anyway), to reach out in such a manner.

You blinked at him, the readied words of denial you’d used on the others caught up in your throat. “No, no, I’m fine…” you’d said, but here, with him, you knew lying was futile.

“I didn’t intend to make you worry” you sighed, more dejected, your true feelings starting to transpire.

“Oh, MC…” his other hand went up to graze your cheek, so gentle that it seemed almost uncertain, always careful not to accidentally hurt. “Do you ever think for a moment that I cannot handle being there for you? Your feelings could never be a burden to me. No matter how much work I’ve got cut out for myself.”

He maintained his eyes on you, intense and full of unspoken words of affection: so much so that it almost knocked the wind out of you, chest tightening and palms dampening. Could you really be so lucky to have such an important figure be so caring towards you, a mere human?

“Diavolo…”

You couldn’t help but finally tear up, and he welcomed you in his hold with open arms, holding you steadily.

“It’s okay, my dearest. It’s okay to grieve.”

He wouldn’t tell you in that moment, but he’d also suffered through the loss of his father, who wasn’t dead, but whose absence still had an impact on him, besides what he told himself. Perhaps you too could visit your relative in the celestial realm, if they’d ascended, but he knew that the hurt bears no less effect. He understood.