Dxd: A demon Among Devils
Chapter 49: [49]:poignant

Chapter 49 - [49]:poignant

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He wanted to laugh. So suitably heroic. So suitably brave. So suitably like Junpei.

His legs were already moving by then, spurts of demonic strength spearing through them, granting him swiftness that could not match a Knight's, but was adequate enough for the task at hand. He closed the space between them in great, distance-eating strides, ignoring the world around him, ignoring the way his surroundings exploded as Riser's Queen tried to compensate for his sudden spurt of speed, ignoring the lashing tendrils of fire that sought to waylay him as the Bishop did the same.

And then he was before them, the two of them, the Rook and the Pawn, and the same demonic power that lent him speed rippled like wildfire down his shoulder.

She stiffened when she felt his hand on her back then sagged when he pulled out her spine in an explosion of gore.

The sheer brutality of that act made even them pause, and he used that time to drag the boy back, hauling him by the collar with the arm not completely drenched in blood.

Rias met him halfway, descending from the air, her eyes wide but her lips curled grimly upwards in approval. Together they half-dragged, half-carried Issei behind the shell of an eviscerated building, its innards carved out by one of their many ranged exchanges. Riser did not pursue. The loss of his last melee piece deterred that notion. But he did not need to. The damage his Rook had inflicted upon her victim was extensive, and he knew instincitely that the boy was barely holding on.

He watched Rias set her Pawn gently down by the wall, where he could lean for support. The boy's eyes rolled loosely in their sockets before focusing on him and settling on the limb that leaked crimson fluid to the ground.

"You should teach me how to do that some time."

He tried hard not to smile. That would be a simple affair, really. Reach in, grasp the spine firmly, and pull. It was all in the execution.

"I am sorry," the devil's gaze was wandering now, roaming aimlessly, and he could see that the boy was fighting hard to remain cognizant, "I am sorry I couldn't be of more help, Buchou."

Rias nodded and bit her lip. He realized he was supposed to say something in a situation like this and nevertheless, grasped at straws. Conversation. Never his strong suit.

"You did... well," was what he finally offered.

Issei grinned up to him, though in his ruined state it was more of a lopsided leer.

"Being praised by Arisato-san... That's not... so bad..."

Then he lost consciousness, his body disappearing like he had seen the rest of them do, and it was just the two of them, the King and her reluctant Rook.

Rias stared at the space where Issei had rested. Her shoulders were slumped. It was a far cry from her usual noble, confident demeanor. He found that it did not suit her. They stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity, but in reality, could not have been more than a few seconds. Her, kneeling next to the place where the last of her true peerage had vanished. Him, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets, merely observing.

She finally rose from her position, gathered herself, and turned to face him.

"This was my fault," she said softly, "I should have foreseen that Riser's Knights would sacrifice themselves in this way. I should have been able to stop it. Or at least do something to help when we lost Asia and Yuuto," a flicker of pain passed over her face as she recalled that instant, "I should have been able to do something."

He disagreed. She had proven to be sound at commanding. But sometimes, even the greatest of commanders could still be defeated by innovative tactics and unexpected strategies. He was about to make his disagreement known when she spoke again.

"But we made him bleed, didn't we?" a fierceness had overtaken her, and he could see her fingers clenching into fists, "We made him work for this win. And when we fought together, battled together, in that moment, I could not have been more proud of you all."

Good words. Fine words.

"It was pyrrhic victory for him," sadness now, tempered with regret, "but still a victory," she gazed at him evenly, a trace of weary humor lighting in her eyes, "I do believe the next time I see you, Arisato-san, I will be married."

Mitsuru had said something similar to him. She had come to him one night, her face unusually absent of the sternness it normally carried, an aura of vulnerability about her in lieu of ice and steel. That was back when they felt the connection between them, yet had not the time or the courage to make anything of it. The memories came in waves, and for a moment he was captured by the familiarity of it all.

He was driven out of his reverie by the touch of her fingertips on his chest. He frowned and looked down.

"What are you doing?"

Rias met his curious stare with a half-hearted smile.

"I am removing your piece."

There was enough meaning in that simple sentence that he could not help but match her smile.

"If you do that, you will lose."

In that moment, her laughter could not have sounded more beautiful.

"I have already lost," the words, like her laugh, were stained with accepted defeat, "I am making sure you do not lose with me. By retiring you now, Riser will not be able to influence you as a servant in my peerage."

He watched as her fingers continued to dance across his chest, the hand searching for the place she had implanted the Rook within him.

He made a decision then.

His own hand raised and pushed hers gently away.

She looked at him, not understanding. He stepped forward from the wall, and for a moment he debated if it was worthwhile what he was going to do next.

Others might have hesitated, guarding their power jealously and withholding knowledge as was their right. He was not them. It was never his way. The Social Links he had completed, the friends he had made, the bonds he had forged did not come from secrecy and apathy. They came from acceptance and the willingness to help those in need.

He had seen their courage on the battlefield. Witnessed their loyalty to one another. Beheld their selflessness as they stood with one another and sacrificed for one another. Those were human traits. Traits he respected. Traits he had died to protect. Traits that were worthy of being saved.

And in the end, that was all that mattered.

He turned, knowing that there would be no going back, understanding that his place in this world would be irrevocably changed. He turned to meet her eyes with his own.

"Promise me something, Gremory-san."

"Gremory-san?" her lips twitched. Even now the humor in her defeat lay thick in her mind, "Since when did you start calling me by that?"

He hadn't. He did not use honorifics much. Not to people who did not deserve them.

"Promise me that no matter what I do next, you will continue treating me as you have done before."

She took a step back. The way her eyes widened in realization made the moment all the more poignant.

"I promise."

He smiled at her.

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