The Demon Lord Is An Angel
Chapter 181: Old Soul

Chapter 181: Old Soul

The roar of the ocean greeted Kir’s ears as he awoke to the sight of black sands and a gentle tide.

He pushed himself to sit up, looking around. In the distance, he saw a house, built into a cliff and jutting over the waters, the grass along the roaded slope swaying in the breeze. Above, the skies were blue and partially clouded.

Suddenly from his left, a voice spoke in Japanese.

"Welcome to the afterlife, Kid."

Kir looked up to find a human crouching there. He was wearing a lab coat and a one-piece skinsuit underneath but was barefoot. Glasses framed his face, which was gaunt and sleepless. His black hair was winged with grey and white, and in one hand he held a long, silvery pipe inset with cherry-stained wood - a kiseru - which was lit.

The smell of tobacco wafted over Kir, which pulled from him an odd sense of nostalgia as he spoke.

"You’re the voice in my head... Who are you?" Kir answered back in Japanese.

"Hmph," the man said, "Guess I’ll be starting from square one." He put the pipe in his mouth and suddenly a camera appeared in his hands, one that Kir couldn’t help but think of as ancient. He snapped a picture before Kir could react, and a short moment later there was a mechanical whirr as the camera ejected a small photo, which the man took and shook. "This ought to be illuminating." Stand up.

He handed the photo to Kir. On it was an exact copy of the man, but without the glasses, and Kir took a step backward, feeling the lab coat he was wearing brush around him.

"What is-"

"I’m you, idiot. Or, well, you’re me without the hangups and only half of what I knew. Though I can see you’re well on your way to making your own. Hangups that is."

"Insensitive prick," Kir shot back.

"Says the guy who couldn’t tell I was in his head until some demon gave him a neat tattoo," the man scoffed. He gestured at the house. "Come on. I made us lunch. We can talk someplace I actually like."

"I’m supposed to be-"

"Yeah, yeah, choosing what to become. Archons and mages and bippity-boppity-boo shit. I miss physics not being susceptible to the whims of idiots, so at least let me smarten you up a bit before you go to the gallery."

"Gallery?" Kir asked.

"That’s what I’m calling it. A lot of options there, especially because you did the one thing Lumin told you not to do. But I think you’ll make the right choice. If not... well... Nice knowing ya."

He started walking towards the house, and Kir followed him, a bit unsteady without his digitigrade legs and tail.

"What do I call you?" he asked as they began to walk up the road.

The man paused, letting out a long smoke stream, but didn’t look back. "Nasumi Kiryu." He continued walking.

"Kiryu..." Kir whispered the man’s given name to himself.

Kiryu Nasumi paused to open the door, which he did using a wave of his hand. "Don’t worry about tracking in sand. It doesn’t exist."

The inside of the house was modern. Sleek and functional. But on each of the glass shelves, and scattered about the room, were artifacts of all sorts.

Well-polished guns took up one wall, mounted with the oldest at the top. The oldest gun was an MTs255 revolver shotgun, followed by an AK-73, a Neo-Dragonov laser sniper rifle, and a "Flying Blade" Type-6 magnetic shotgun.

Kiryu saw where Kir was looking. "You like the guns, huh?"

"I remember what they’re called... but that’s it." Kir cleared his throat. "They’re special to you?"

"No. Not to me. We... I, had a partner who was into guns. Into the old days. The days when the Earth seemed like it was worth saving. They... taught me how to shoot, but it wasn’t much more than a hobby."

Kir looked guiltily away from the guns towards the rest of the room and its artifacts. There were kintsugi pots, their cracks filled with gold, and flowers from all over the world, still and unaging. One of each bloom. Swords and knives. Braids of silk and tapestries. Small monuments to each branch of physics, abstractly shaped.

Kiryu passed by many relics to pin the picture he’d taken of Kir to a wall of hundreds of photos. All of them stilled images from Kir’s life.

For all the artifacts, however, the room was laid out simply. The kitchen bled into the dining area, separated by a counter. The dining area bled into a small garden, with a blooming cherry blossom tree growing out of a well-arranged sand garden, dividing the view of the living room in half. A massive, pentagonal table in the kintsugi style, but with white marble joined by gold, rested before the tree. The table was set for five, but only two seats had meals in front of them.

"Come, sit. I hope sushi is alright?" Kiryu asked as he sat down.

Kir sat as across from him as he could, given the shape of the table. It felt strange to sit without a tail. "I already ate," he said. "And I’m not partial to fish." He could eat it in a pinch. Had done so, in fact, when he was trapped in the dungeon. But it wasn’t his favorite in a world with dragon steaks.

Kiryu waved a hand and a new meal appeared in front of Kir. Fried iced cream with shavings of vanilla and whipped cream, topped with cherries and a sweet drizzle of chocolate.

"Dessert then?" Kiryu chuckled. "I used to hate fish too. Of course, when I was that age, the only fish that weren’t toxic or half-plastic were grown in vats. I didn’t taste a real fish until I was a ’productive little scientist’, and even then, my host was just trying to buy me."

"I... don’t remember that," Kir admitted.

"I know you don’t. You’re me."

"I’m not you," Kir asserted. "We might be connected, but that doesn’t mean we’re the same."

"There’s no need to be contrarian with me, Kir, I never said we were the same... In fact, I think between us you’re the better man. You still have hope."

"What do you mean?" Kir asked.

"I have lived in your head since the day you were born. It took me a few weeks to realize what had happened. And then to realize I wasn’t in control. For a while, I thought I had been subjected to some sort of cruel joke. A punishment for what I accomplished the day I died."

Kir picked up a spoon and poked at the iced cream. "What was it that you accomplished?"

Kiryu looked down at his plate, then plucked some striped tuna from it and ate it in one bite. "The same thing you did when you freed a warehouse full of slaves and sank a boat. The same thing you did when you slaughtered slavers and opportunists in your hometown." He reached, pulling a glass full of golden plum wine into existence. "I liberated people from their oppressors... though I only got one chance to do so..."

"How?" Kir asked. "I’ve had dreams. A woman telling me I was making some sort of bomb... a bunch of suits I was shaking hands with."

Kiryu paused. He eyed Kir silently, the gears turning in his head as he considered his words. He took another sip of wine before he spoke.

"Her name was Aiko... She was... with me the longest. After our other partner died..." he put the glass down and wiped his eyes. "I pushed her away, once I’d decided on my course of action. I didn’t want to bring her down with me."

Kir felt the man’s sadness. He tried the dessert, and it was good.

For a while, they both simply ate. And then Kiryu stood. "Come. I want to show you something. I can tell we’re probably making your partners nervous."

Kir stood and followed, and was led past the tree and into the living room. A long couch sat with its back centered on the cherry blossom. At the front of the room, the wall was dominated by a massive screen. Below it, centered, was a desk with additional screens and a holographic interface.

"How can you tell?" Kir asked.

"Because I’ve been keeping an ear on the outside. You can do it too, but don’t worry too much about trying, I’ve had more practice than you." He sat on the couch. With a wave of his hand, the screen came on.

Kir saw only blackness but heard...

"Is there something we can do?" Kordia asked.

"If you’re godly, you can pray," Lumin said, her voice agitated and bitter. "Otherwise keep your barriers up and prepare for battle."

Kiryu shut off the screen a moment later. "Quite the party in the physical world," he chuckled.

"One I intend to get back to," Kir said. "So what is it you wanted to teach me?"

Kiryu sat forward, planting elbows on his knees and bridging his fingers. "First... I need to show you what happened after you fell unconscious. It will help me make my argument later."

Kir frowned. He didn’t like the notion that "he" would have to argue himself into something, which affirmed to him that they weren’t the same person. "Fine. But before I do, put me back to the way I was, since it’s clear you’re in control here."

Kiryu shrugged.

As soon as Kir blinked, he found himself towering over Kiryu. A quick look at his arms showed he wasn’t glowing from within, and when he tried to flex his wings he found they weren’t there, but he could have them if he wanted.

Kir sat heavily next to Kiryu.

""Let’s begin,"" they said at the same time.