Chapter Text
He did always manage to get into something, Iruma reflected. When he'd first arrived, he had thought that was normal for the netherworld, and everything just seemed more dangerous and, well, more to him because he was human. Now, he kind of wondered if all the trouble he was put through in the human world had done something to him, as if he'd become magnetized for trouble by his constant exposure to it.
Or maybe he and his class just never learned to stop looking for trouble.
That was the more likely explanation this time around. It started simply enough–Elizabetta was telling Keroli and Clara about a new make-up store opening in the hell-hall (which, from context clues, Iruma had deduced was a mall) a little ways away, and Kamui dragged a stammering Lied over to talk about the specialty board game store he'd been meaning to check out, so that Kamui could suggest they all go together. Soon enough Jazz joined them, then leaned toward Iruma and casually mentioned the food court and specialty sweet shops, and before long the entire class was in on the plan to go on their next day off.
The morning went as smoothly as could be expected, with them breaking off into various groups based on which stores people wanted to visit. They reconvened at lunchtime, which went on longer than they'd planned because Iruma had to try several items from every single eatery. Jazz and Allocer were amusing themselves by surveying the crowds for possible marks, and it was then that they noticed a pair of seemingly separate shoppers simultaneously slip into a closed storefront.
They really had no business diverting their outing by following these suspicious people inside, then continuing down into an even more suspicious basement, which ultimately led them to some downright ominous tunnels. And once they were noticed by those suspicious people and had to subdue them as quickly and quietly as possible, they really should have gone back and reported to someone instead of using the opportunity to snoop around in what seemed to be some illicit research lab. And furthermore, after they found that the research lab seemed to be creating various bioengineered magical beasts and after exterminating a few, they should have taken the realization that some magical interference was keeping them from contacting anyone with their phones as a sign to retreat.
Maybe they were itching to prove themselves, to test their strength again, after seeing one of the Thirteen Crowns in action. Maybe they felt invincible, all thirteen of them together, each of them a Daleth or He rank. Maybe this let them get a bit careless, as they continued their investigation and took out mutated beasts and occasional demons who seemed to hint at this being a partially-abandoned location of some larger scheme.
Regardless of the reasons, they were deep underground and unsure of how much time had passed before they noticed how low on mana many of them had become. Iruma scolded himself for not asking his grandpa to replenish the ring sooner. When they paused at an intersection of tunnels to get their bearings, Iruma stepped out of sight and held up the ring.
“Ali-san?” he whispered. “How are you holding up?”
All he received in response was a wisp of smoke in the general form of Ali’s head shaking. He winced–not good then.
“Iruma-chi?” Clara called, quieter than usual after she'd been hushed several times for yelling across rooms and tunnels as they explored. “We're trying this way, don't get lost!”
“Right, coming!” Iruma hurried toward the left tunnel’s entrance, where some discussion he'd missed had determined they should go. Clara had her arms crossed and was tapping a foot in an exaggerated show of impatience.
Despite the situation, Iruma couldn't help but smile at her display. “Sorry, I was just–” His explanation was cut off as he ran directly into a wall.
An invisible wall. As his classmates uttered their confusion, Iruma met Clara’s eyes, then flashed to Asmodeus–the three of them were rigid with sudden recognition.
“Well, this certainly isn't what I expected when they told me to see who was pokin’ around this place.”
Breathe, Iruma reminded himself. He wants to see you react. If you don't give it to him, he'll get bored of the situation. He forced himself to turn around calmly. “Kirio-senpai.” Last time he'd been terrified at the revelation that Kirio knew–this time he could manage. As long as he didn't look afraid, didn't look like he might despair, Kirio wouldn't bother revealing his hand. Last time he'd even chosen to retreat on his own. Iruma could manage this.
“Why do you look so nervous, Iruma-kun?” Kirio asked sweetly, leaning his cheek into the palm of his hand. “An impressive rank He demon like you, what could li'l old me possibly do?”
Iruma's face settled into a small scowl as Kirio smiled widely at him, running his tongue lazily over one of his canines.
“You!” Asmodeus growled, hands slamming against the barrier beside Iruma. “What do you think you're doing? Didn't I already show you it's no use trying to keep me from Iruma-sama’s side?”
“Ah, right, ya did gimme a surprise there! I guess we'll have to see if you can pull that off again.” Kirio's eyes sharpened on Asmodeus. “Your bloodline ability, right?” Iruma heard Asmodeus inhale sharply, but he didn't dare take his eyes off Kirio. It was like dealing with a wild animal–once they set their sights on you, you kept your eyes on them until they lost interest or you made it to safety. “Ah, don't worry, Azz-kun~, I won't say nothin’ more. We all have our secrets, after all. Don't we, Iruma-kun?”
Iruma swallowed. “You certainly seem to, Kirio-senpai. You're working with whoever was running this place? Then I guess this has something to do with your… nii-san’s plans?”
“Is that really what you wanna talk about with your li’l followers here?”
“My friends,” Iruma corrected automatically.
“Right,” Kirio drawled, wrinkling his nose in disdain. “You do love bringing up strange ideas demons have no business with. Guess that's to be expected, with what you are and all.”
Iruma dug his nails into his palm, keeping his face as impassive as he could. Just don't react, don't react, don't show fear–
“What's that supposed to mean, Kiri-meanie-senpai?” Clara demanded angrily. “Iruma-chi has great ideas, because he's great, and you don't know anything! Mleh!”
“It's been too long, Clara-chan,” Kirio simpered. “My kouhai are so grown! But really, in all this time, I can't believe ya haven't figured it out.”
“Figured out what? That you're a bad guy?”
Kirio fiddled with his ear cuff as he chuckled. “Well, there's that too. But I was actually talking about how, y’know–” He couldn't be going to say it now, without any buildup, he– “Iruma is human.”
Iruma stopped breathing. No, no, no, this couldn't be how it happened, he wasn't ready–
“What the hell are you talking about?” Agares called incredulously.
“That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard,” Lied added. “Like, are humans even real?”
“He has mana, he has a wicked phase, we've all seen it,” Keroli continued. “He's obviously a demon. What do you get by making up something like that?”
Kirio was still smiling pleasantly. “Why don't ya tell ‘em, Iruma-kun? If I'm lying?”
Right, of course–of course! It was Kirio’s word against Iruma's, and why would his friends believe Kirio over him? He just had to laugh, or act confused, and ask where Kirio had gotten such a ridiculous idea, and–
Azz and Clara’s voices called out in unison behind him, soft and concerned. “Iruma-sama?” “Iruma-chi?”
Any words died in his throat. It was one thing to have gone along with this charade for over a year, to have let them believe the most reasonable things and told little lies to cover the discrepancies. It was another to blatantly lie, to every one of them, right in front of someone who knew the truth. In that moment, Iruma knew that if he lied here, he would never get the chance to tell them the truth.
“Taking an awful long time to answer, Iruma-kun.” Iruma was too frozen to stop Kirio from grabbing his right hand and lacing their fingers, pulling Iruma away from his barrier. Iruma stumbled, and Kirio slid his free hand up Iruma's back, a parody of a ballroom embrace. Iruma gasped as Kirio pulled their bodies flush and smiled gently, tilting his face towards Iruma. “How ‘bout we show them and clear up the issue?”
Kirio's claws sliced down his back, shredding his shirt and leaving shallow bleeding slashes behind. Iruma cried out in surprised pain, struggling as Kirio still held him by the waist and brought his other hand to Iruma's collar, tearing off the remains of his shirt, leaving only scraps hanging haphazardly.
“No!” Iruma cried, clawing uselessly after the shredded fabric. Off-balance, Kirio was easily able to shove Iruma and send him stumbling back against the barrier, back exposed for all his classmates to see.
He heard their gasps and exclamations of surprise as he fell to the floor, but his head was ringing too much to make out specifics. He scrambled away awkwardly to the side, trying to maneuver so that his back was to neither his classmates nor Kirio, while also hunching in on himself and wrapping his arms around his chest.
“Oh, don’t be so shy, Iruma-kun! They’ve never seen a real-life human before. Right here, in the flesh! Well, they thought they hadn’t, anyway. Who’d have guessed there was one right with them, pretending to be a big-shot demon this whole time?”
Iruma’s head was spinning. This couldn’t just happen like this, this couldn’t be real. But his body had already shifted into crisis mode, hyper-aware of the blood dripping down his back, the way the cool air underground felt on his scratched, exposed skin. This could be nothing but real. Still, the effort that it took to move his mouth in some semblance of words felt almost dreamlike.
“I'm sorry,” he managed breathlessly, unable to look where his classmates watched on. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… I'm sorry.”
“Is that all ya have to say? They deserve an explanation, don’t ya think? As to how a pathetic li’l human managed to run such a big con on them for so long?” Kirio leaned over, hands on his knees, to be closer to Iruma’s eye level. “It’s real impressive, y’know!”
“No, I–I wasn’t trying to trick anyone, I just–I–”
Kirio talked over Iruma like he didn’t even hear him. “There was a big to-do about Sullivan sneaking into the human realm a while back. Guess he went pet shopping, huh? How was it he got his hands on you, Iruma-kun? Y’know, I heard that back in the old days, humans would take the kids they didn’t want and sacrifice ‘em to demons for riches and power.” Iruma flinched, and Kirio grinned dangerously. “Hahaha, got it in one! Really says something about how things are going here, don’t ya think? You gettin’ all this praise and recognition as some elite demon prodigy, when you’re just a human that no one in the human world even wanted?”
His words stole Iruma’s breath away. He was right, of course–Iruma was here because no one wanted him back in the human world, or at least not as much as they wanted whatever his grandpa had paid for him. Being sold hadn’t been much of a revelation about what his parents thought he was worth, so he’d always seen his situation through the lens of how much more he was valued here, how much opportunity he was offered to grow and prove himself. But of course, if demons saw humans as weak, pathetic, consumable, then they would see his success, his very survival, as a sign of the weakness of demon society. If even a human could thrive, then–
“That's enough out of you!” Sabnock’s booming voice cut through the mess in Iruma’s head. “It matters not what you may have discovered about his origins. If you'd say such things, you clearly know nothing of him that matters!”
Iruma looked up at Sabnock in disbelief. Yes, he looked furious, but all that fury was directed squarely at Kirio.
A pounding on the barrier drew his eyes to Lied. He looked scared and confused, but he nevertheless called out, “Don't worry Iruma-kun, we'll get you out of there!”
“Y-you…” Iruma breathed, tears pricking his eyes. Were they really… could they really…?
“Why so surprised, Iruma-kun?” Kirio asked, faux concern lacing his words. “They're your ‘friends’, aren't they? Did ya really think they'd turn on you so quick? You must not have much faith in demons.”
“No!” Iruma cried immediately, panic firing through him again. “That's not–”
“‘Course they wouldn't turn on ya so easy,” Kirio barreled over him. “I mean, they've been walking at the heel of a human for the past year. Can hardly call ‘em demons at all like this.”
Anger flared up enough to challenge his fear. He leveled a glare at Kirio. “They're the greatest demons in the world.”
Kirio raised an eyebrow. “Y’know, maybe they could be yet. But I'll have to remind ‘em the place humans are s’posed to have under demons first. Maybe when I show ‘em what you're actually good for, they'll remember how to be demons proper-like.”
Iruma took a steadying breath as his heart rate shot up again. He didn't think Kirio was going to try to eat him now, but he hadn't thought Kirio would reveal his identity now either, so he’d better prepare for anything. What that preparation could be was still fuzzy–he knew Kirio was much stronger now than he'd been back at school, and Iruma was mostly out of mana. He'd have to make anything he did count.
He spared one quick glance back to his classmates. Some were attempting various spells on the barrier, and behind them, others were muttering to each other furtively. They said they were going to get him out–he had to have faith in them, and then he could apologize properly once they were out of here. So maybe he didn't have to break Kirio’s barrier himself–maybe he could just make it easier for his friends to do it. Kirio was stronger now, but his bloodline ability had to follow the same basic rules, right? If Iruma could break his concentration enough, maybe that would give the others the chance they needed to break through.
Iruma breathed, leveling a determined look at Kirio. “It seems like you're the one who doesn't have much faith in demons, Kirio-senpai.” He pushed himself off the ground, bringing his hands to his knees to straighten himself. As his hands were obscured by his body, he turned his ring to its max level–maybe he'd be able to get just enough mana out of it. “You really think they're all just a push away from being like you?”
Something flickered in Kirio's eyes, but his soft smile climbed back to his lips. “Well, you're right I don't think much of demons who’re tripping over themselves to have someone else tell ‘em they did a good job, all so they can get a shiny badge that tells everyone else where they sit in the pecking order. Oh hey, come to think of it!” Kirio snapped his fingers, eyes lighting up. “Y’know, I came to see ya after the Music Festival! Wanted to congratulate you–Lilith’s Red Carpet, wasn't it? Woulda paid to see you star in that. But dear Azz-kun chased me off, seems to think he owns you or something.” Kirio shrugged. “Anyway, I'd heard ya won, got yourself promoted to rank He that way. So tell me, Iruma-kun.” Kirio's smile grew sharper, all bared teeth. “Do ya think that's gonna help you here?”
Iruma let himself chuckle quietly. “Actually, yeah, I do.” Good–Kirio was giving him that blank startled look, the one that meant Iruma had said something he couldn't fit into his framework of violence and despair. “I don't know if I really deserved the promotion from it, but I learned a lot. Made a new friend, too. That's always helpful.”
Iruma quickly looked over to his friends, then made sure Kirio had followed his gaze. Yes–now! Iruma dashed forward, casting a nonverbal cherusil to catch him as off-guard as possible. The plan was to shift the floor, throw him off-balance and shove him to the ground. If that didn't break his concentration on its own–well, Iruma couldn't really imagine himself hurting or threatening Kirio to remove his barriers, but he'd figure something out.
It didn't work. As he cast the spell, the floor under Kirio buckled–then stopped. Kirio shifted a step back but kept his balance. He looked back to Iruma in time to throw up another shield, leaving Iruma to crash right into it. Iruma stumbled back, clutching his face, then tripped on another barrier placed at calf height. He didn't fall far–his back slammed into yet another barrier, and as he swayed, head ringing from the impact, Kirio swept his hands above his head and locked them in place with a small barrier wedged tightly against his wrists.
Iruma heard people calling his name, but he didn’t have the attention to spare for them. He jerked his arms uselessly, then tried bracing a foot against the barrier, but his shoes just slid off the smooth surface, and his weight pulled painfully against where the barriers pinned his wrists.
“Cute attempt, Iruma-kun.” Iruma's eyes snapped back to Kirio, who merely glanced at the slight disturbance his spell had made in the smooth floor. “Hmm, all out of grandpa’s mana?” It was just the truth, but it hurt when Kirio said it. “Well, if you're done with the last-minute heroics…”
Kirio was right in front of him, and panic shot through Iruma like electricity. “Wait,” he said hurriedly, not sure if he was succeeding in keeping his panic masked. “You–at the Deviculum, you said you were going to make me despair, drive everyone else away, before you ate me.”
“Aw, you remembered! That makes me feel real special, Iruma-kun! That's right, it's not time to eat ya yet. I want ya nice and marinated in despair before ya come crawling to me. ‘Sides, even if I wanted to now, nii-san still needs you alive for something. But don’t ya worry, we can still give your ‘friends’ a good show!”
Iruma was briefly distracted by this announcement. Baal needed him alive? For what? He already had the patronage of the deities’ princess, what could he want Iruma for?
Kirio grabbed Iruma by the chin. “So let's call this encounter more of an appetizer. Y’see, I thought of somethin’ else a demon could use your body for!”
Kirio pressed his lips to Iruma's, warm and firm and soft at first, and Iruma gave a muffled gasp of surprise as his mind was wiped blank. Kirio followed the gasp with his tongue, snaking between Iruma's teeth, and the softness turned to a harsh crush of teeth and lips as his tongue traced over and under Iruma's own, swiped along Iruma's teeth to feel each blunt edge, tasted the soft crevices of his cheeks. By the time his tongue was sliding along the back of Iruma's throat, their lips were bruised by one another's teeth and Iruma's lungs burned for air.
Finally, Kirio pulled back, a string of saliva stretching between their lips. Iruma’s eyes were blown wide, not quite afraid but full of panicked bewilderment as he gasped for breath and struggled to stammer something out.
Kirio brought a hand to his own mouth, taking a few ragged breaths as he gazed vacantly towards the floor. “Whoa. Iruma, you really are delicious.” He looked up into Iruma's eyes, and Iruma flinched at the unbridled, rapacious hunger directed at him. Kirio gave a teasing grin. “Y’know, I was gonna ask if that was your first, but I guess that's answer enough. Your secret woulda been out already if anyone else got a taste of you.”
His fingers skimmed along Iruma's burning cheek, brushing his hair back from his face, and Iruma's eyes darted wildly between the contact and Kirio’s eyes. “Maybe I won't eat ya up in the end after all,” he murmured. “Maybe I'll keep ya around, pin you up on my wall so I can taste ya whenever I want.”
From trembling lips, Iruma finally managed hoarsely, “What are you doing?”
“Oh Iruma, you're not that naive, are ya?” Kirio smiled sunnily, and the hand on Iruma's hair dug in and turned to a fist. “I'm gonna fuck you!”
Then Kirio's tongue was in him again, licking the roof of his mouth and the back of his teeth. Iruma squeezed his eyes shut and thrashed his head, but Kirio's grip in his hair kept him in place. He gave a desperate, muffled noise of protest, followed soon by the wet crunch of flesh.
Kirio jerked away, but Iruma's teeth were still embedded in his tongue, and the motion tore it open before Iruma could let go. Kirio gave a shriek of pain as he stumbled back. Iruma was left with blood filling his mouth and dripping down his chin.
A moment later, Kirio was laughing, blood pouring from his open mouth. “Hahahaha! Wow!” His speech was slurred, spraying blood as he spoke. “So humans have a pretty good bite, too! I wouldn't’a guessed, with your blunt li’l teeth!” He watched as Iruma gagged and frantically spat out blood and bits of his flesh. “Guess demons don't taste as good to humans as the other way ‘round, huh? That's a shame, coulda been interesting.” He took a moment to swipe away some of the blood pooling from his mouth. “Ah well. Fair’s fair, right Iruma?”
He stepped back up to Iruma, who only had a moment to get out a choked “No, wait–” before Kirio jerked Iruma's head to the side and buried his teeth in the meat of Iruma's shoulder.
“AAAAAGGGHHH!”
Iruma felt Kirio's canines pierce his flesh before all details blurred together into searing pain. Kirio remained latched in place, messily sucking at the wound as blood and drool spilled down. Some immeasurable amount of time later, he brought his palms to Iruma's chest and pushed himself back, dislodging his mouth with a sickening slurp as Iruma choked back a whimper.
“Fuck,” Kirio groaned hoarsely, panting as he brought his hands up to cup his face. “Fuck. Devi, it's so fucking good.” His eyes met Iruma's again, and Iruma tried to grit his teeth past the pain. Kirio's face split into a wide smile. “And look!” He stuck out his tongue and waggled it, covered in blood but whole again. “Guess what they say about human blood is true! That means you can hurt me as much as ya want, and no matter what ya do to me, your blood will fix me right up! Ain't that thrillin’? You sure are multi-purpose.”
Iruma looked down at his chest and back at Kirio, at the matching smears of their blood mixed across them both. His mind still flitted frantically after any option, any possible way out of this situation, still hammered out a litany (I've always survived, I've always survived, I've always survived), but his thoughts seemed to slip and trip before they could get anywhere.
Kirio–his senpai who accepted him into the battler and said that if Iruma didn't have mana they'd be the same and told Iruma a beautiful dream of doing away with the rank system before revealing he just wanted to see everyone despair. Kirio who had tried to blow up their school and kill all his friends–but it was fine because Iruma had stopped him, and it's not like he was the first troubled teenager to think of blowing up a school.
Kirio who described in vivid detail wanting to eat him, and yes that had been terrifying, and maybe sometimes that sick horror still crawled up Iruma's throat when he let his thoughts wander too freely–but he'd already known demons would want to eat him, so he was prepared for that on some level, and all he had to do was not let Kirio's plan of driving the netherworld into chaos unfold, so really that was fine too.
Kirio-senpai, who Iruma still made haphazard plans on how to get back and fantasized about how they would work together in the battler again, laughing over mishaps, and Iruma would actually learn the things their battler was supposed to be about because it would be Kirio-senpai showing him, and–
And Kirio-senpai said he was going to–Iruma’s mind twisted away from the word like he couldn't quite comprehend it. What did that–what was he–he hadn't even known boys could like each other until meeting Gyari at the akudol games. Well, he'd heard of being gay before, of course–he’d never been sheltered in his life–but only in disparaging mutters. Finding out he could like boys, and girls too, and that was fine, had suddenly made the world make a lot more sense, but…
Kirio was right, that had been his first kiss, and he'd never thought about demons being able to taste his humanity on his lips, he'd never even thought about kissing anyone beyond some brief butterflies when he looked at some of his friends that he promptly shoved down because that definitely didn't mean anything, demons were just so pretty was all.
He'd thought Kirio was pretty too. His delicate features, his demure smile, his deft fingers as they fiddled with some magic artifact or played absently with his ear cuffs. The way his uneven horns highlighted the symmetry of his face. Maybe there'd even been times Iruma had imagined reaching out and tracing his finger around the little mole below Kirio's eye.
And now Kirio had his hands pinned above his head, shirt torn off and bleeding from a wound left by Kirio’s teeth, and his blood–the one power that was his, not borrowed from some powerful demon or artifact but his, the power that had saved him in the flying race and the harvest festival, that he'd already imagined the ways he could use to help his friends once he was able to tell them, on his own terms, that he was… Now that same power had rendered any attempt to fight back, to resist, utterly futile.
Iruma knew how to deal with pain and danger but not with being strung up on display while his friends watched, while his body became something for someone else to use in every way imaginable, while dread coiled in his stomach and slithered its way up his throat…
Kirio saw the moment it reached his eyes and giggled. “Oh, what's wrong, Iruma-kun? I already told ya I'm not gonna eat ya yet! Once I'm done with you, you can go back to your little friends, who know you're human and are gonna watch me ruin you.” Iruma failed to suppress one gasping sob as Kirio leaned in and stroked his hair again. “I've just gotta fill ya up first, so any other demon that tries to take a bite outta you will taste me in you and know you're mine.” Kirio licked his lips, catching the drool that nearly spilled over. “Maybe I'll be real nice and make you come too. I'd love a taste.”
And oh Devi, oh Devi, he'd always survived, but that didn't mean terrible things hadn't happened to him on the way to survival. And even if Kirio kept his promise to leave him alive after he was–done with him, that meant he'd have to live with this, with his friends knowing… with them seeing…
Kirio gave a breathy whimper of ecstasy. “Don't tell me it coulda been this easy all along. You're gonna disappoint me.” Kirio cupped Iruma's cheek, eyes roving his face like he was devouring a feast. “But ah, Iruma, how could I be disappointed when you're wearing that face? Look at you–you’re perfect.” He softly brushed his thumb across Iruma's cheek, and the gentle touch was so out of place it made Iruma shudder. “Y’know, I think you shouldn't wear anything else.”
His hands skimmed down Iruma's chest, leaving trails in the mess of blood and raising goosebumps with his nails. Iruma squirmed and kicked uselessly as he dug his thumbs into the soft flesh atop his hip bones and traced them nearly hard enough to hurt, down to hook his thumbs in the top of his pants, and Iruma's body responded with a powerful tug at his groin that came with the overwhelming urge to vomit.
“No, no, no no no no no please, Kirio, stop, please,” his voice broke, as did the last of the willpower that had kept his tears locked behind his eyes. He shook his head violently as they began to fall. “Please don't do this, please please please, not,” he hiccupped on a sob, and finished in a barely audible whisper, “not in front of them.”
Kirio's hands paused where they had started unfastening Iruma's pants. His smile tugged up on one side to a lopsided grin. “Did ya hear that, everyone?” He fisted Iruma's hair again and forced his face toward his friends. “He asked for some privacy! What–” He leaned in to nuzzle by Iruma's ear, “afraid they might want a turn next? Or maybe ya don't want them to see how much you wanna be a demon’s toy? It is your proper role, after all.”
Iruma squeezed his eyes shut, releasing a choked sound of anguish. Maybe he wouldn't have to live with this–maybe Kirio would get carried away and tear out his throat before he ever had to see his friends look at him again. But Devi, what a terrible thing for them to have to see–maybe he could tell them to go and leave him, and maybe since he was a useless lying human they'd do it. But he didn't want to die being raped, and he didn't want them to leave him–
He felt the barrier pinning his hands disappear. He was already falling when he opened his eyes–the first thing he saw was someone's uniform as he fell into their chest, catching him before his feet could stumble or his legs could give out under him.
“We've got you, we've got you!” a panicked voice said as arms closed around him. Jazz’s voice, closeness the only thing making it audible over the sudden cacophony behind him (wind, and snarling, and the clashing of metal, and the cracking of ice and stone floors).
“The circle's almost ready!” Allocer’s voice rang out. Jazz swept Iruma off his feet and carried him back past where his classmates had been walled off, to a large and intricate spell circle chalked out on the floor. One by one, his classmates retreated into the circle, several still firing off spells towards where Iruma came from.
“Azz, Sabnock, get over here!” Agares yelled, panting from the effort of using his bloodline ability past exhaustion.
Iruma heard a sound of animalistic rage that couldn't possibly be coming from Asmodeus, then Sabnock shouting his name, though he couldn't imagine why. When he looked over his shoulder, Sabnock had lifted Asmodeus bodily by one arm and was running them both back to the rest of the group. The moment Sabnock stepped into the spell circle, Allocer made a complicated movement with his hands, and purple-white light rose from the markings to envelop them.
When the light of the spell had faded, they lay sprawled in the dirt, Jazz with one arm still slung over Iruma's waist. There was a pointed silence as each of them breathed and listened and reoriented themselves. Iruma heard muted movements, then Elizabetta calling out, “Did everyone make it?”
“I count thirteen!” Goemon replied, voice strained.
“We made it outside Royal One,” Allocer sighed, exhaustion and relief equally evident.
“Asmodeus is under control for now,” Sabnock added.
Why would Azz need to be under control? Iruma pushed himself up to his hands and knees, then sat back on his feet, trying to look around.
“Iruma-kun!” Jazz cried, hands gesturing around uselessly as if he wanted to grab him but wasn't allowing himself. “Are you–should you be–”
Iruma wiped a hand across his face as he looked over, finding numerous eyes all trained on him anxiously. His hand was sticky now. Why was his hand sticky? He looked down to find it smeared in red. Blood. Kirio's blood, from where it had poured into his mouth and down his chin. He could still taste it in the back of his throat, could feel the sourness sit heavy in his stomach.
Iruma leaned forward and vomited.
The tenuous calm shattered. His stomach heaved, and heaved again, and when it wasn't heaving he was sobbing, and he could barely find space to breathe between it all. He was vaguely aware of Clara crawling over to him, pulling a blanket from her pocket, and wrapping it around his shoulders. Panicked voices flitted by him in between the sounds of him sobbing and gagging.
“What do we do now?”
“We need a teacher!”
“But what if they–I mean–do they know?”
“Opera-sensei must!”
“Who's even on campus at this time?”
“Kalego-sensei and Balam-sensei must know too, right? One of them is bound to be around!”
“We'll be stopped and, and he'll be seen, if we just carry him to the teacher's–”
“I'll go! I'll make sure I'm not seen and bring them back.”
Someone's hands were holding up Iruma's shoulders. He'd emptied his stomach, but his body kept trying to get something else out (get out get out) for several more seconds. Once it subsided and he was only gasping and sobbing, someone pulled him back to their chest and held him there. Iruma collapsed limply against them, too drained to even cry anymore. Someone else was crying now, he distantly registered. So with every labored breath, he managed to whisper, “I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry,” until the world dimmed around him.