Hmm

Saburo took several cautious steps back until he felt the wall behind him, newly wrenched from the darkness just to stop his retreat. He shook his head slowly, though not in despair as one might expect to come from a teenager entrapped in such empty black. No, it was merely a negation of some idea, just an ordinary negation of an unspoken statement. He did not flinch, nor did he seek any other method of escape, because he knew he wouldn't find one. A grim sigh escaped him; there would be a fight here. Still, he had given the answer that would lea to more conflict himself, and though something about it set his stomach squirming, he smirked. It was not a completely confident expression, however, the smirk was contrasted by his eyes, narrow and serious. He was terrified, in fact. He didn't want to fight, his form itself resisted the idea, making it hard for him to move. There was too much at risk, perhaps, and it was better to avoid such a chancy fight. It wasn't even as if he considered himself a cautious person, he often went out on limbs that had all the strength of twigs in them, and he was accustomed to these breaking.

This was worse, but he didn't know why. For all that he was familiar with, some instinct was coldly informing him that this was more. That despite his ability to perceive this so distinctly, the indiscernible reason for it still remained, and this would cost him more than he should even have been able to pay.

“Well, do you want something?” The silence swarmed around those words, fading them with unnatural speed for such an open space, but he was quite sure they had been heard. He pillowed his hands between the head and the wall while he waited on some response, for comfort's sake.

“Yes,” The demon said, following the quiet word with a simple, disapproving noise. “You're not taking this seriously.”

“Sure, I am,” Saburo contradicted mildly, and honestly as well. He didn't give it anything else, however, he needed to take stock of the situation first. It would have helped, to begin with, if he could have seen his opponent.

“Maybe you are. Still, you seem...” It paused, not bothering to conceal the mocking when it continued, “You seem like you expect a fight. That's what you've convinced yourself has to happen. But really, that's too dangerous.”

The boy allowed himself a chuckle, “For you or for me? Maybe this can turn out better than what I've been thinking, as you seem to be so familiar with that.” That was concerning, but if it knew that, then he wasn't going to try to avoid the notion. It was there, whether either of them admitted to it, and so he would not gain anything by ignoring it. At the very least, he would show the demon that he wasn't so cowardly.

“For me, as it happens. If I was to actually try to fight you, given that I haven't devoted any time to weakening you first, the odds would be rather up to chance...”

Saburo blinked. He had not thought of that, and tension rippled through him briefly as he paced away from the wall. The Pen was slipped free of its pocket along with his notebook as he advanced, watching as far as his peripheral vision would allow for any form of attack. His movements were once again relaxed, but in some ways, this was still defensive. He was collect enough to allow himself to relax, certainly, yet there was also the matter of stiffened limbs being harder to maneuver. A question pushed his lips apart, but he swallowed it with a more self-direct smirk. He should have known better than to consider asking what the demon wanted to do instead, as this was inclined to get himself an answer through actions.

“You're interesting, you see. You don't have power, but you could. You already have... pieces... The cunning. And I can get my vengeance this way, too.” Its tone changed to something higher, more hysterical. The delight of a child who didn't understand that bullying was wrong, only that it would bring them what they wanted. Apparently, though, it did not favor youthful metaphors. “It's not a game to me, nor just one of your human cliches. So I won't treat it like one. You don't <i>get</i> a chance to fight.”

Saburo drew in a sharp breath, he had only been given a temporary refrain from action on the demon's part, after all, and his own silence probably had had nothing to do with that. He was jumping away from the spot where he stood a few seconds before the creature had finished declaring its intentions, but it seemed that he was still slower than he should have been. It wasn't coming out itself, apparently, not right away. Chains sprang up in its stead, dark iron clamping around his feet in the spot he landed on. He only had time for a gasp, no actions of his own, before he was jerked to the ground, his head bashed against it. The Pen was kept in his grip despite the fall, and he shoved himself upright to use it, but his hands were caught, too, as he placed them against the ground to do so. The manacles on his wrists were tugged back by their attached links, forcing him down again, and bringing his arms up above his head as he lay there. Despite this, he continued trying to wiggle the Pen to a place where it could be used, and muttered aloud, “A-ah... that was fast. Still, I don't see why a fight would be worse. It's pretty clear you'd win, right?”

The boy's smile had a decidedly nervous quality to it. In a fight, he could have tried something more easily, so it would have been nice if he could have talked one into occurring. He was totally confident that the demon had lied to him, as far as its motivations were concerned. He didn't stop to wonder how he had missed that because there wasn't time. The point was, it had not wanted to fight because it had a different end in mind, one that it apparently regarded as more unpleasant for him than the possibility of being torn apart in combat. Something that he was fairly sure could have literally happened. And, he reflected bitterly, it seemed like it would be a good judge of what would cause people pain, even him. It had spent the past year sealed in his mind, so what else would be expected?

The demon selected this time to appear. It prowled out, inspecting its prisoner with fiendish excitement, who stilled himself and returned its gaze softly. Its appearance was unchanged; his own school uniform, splashed with blood, all the life in its eyes dulled in a sour kind of foreshadowing.

“As I said, maybe. Anyway, fighting is not something you need to worry about. Soon, you'll be more worried about filling that pit at the heart of you,” It almost chirped this information to the boy.

Saburo responded with an arched eyebrow, he most definitely was still fighting, but at that time, it was only his own urge to look away that needed combating. “Eh, what do you mean by that? I'm pretty sure... the place where my heart is, to put it that way, is fine.”

The demon shook its head, though what it said was not any kind of denial, “What do you think it would be like? To always be empty of life? You want it, of course, and you don't have enough to care for to think of anything else. So... you work to get that. And it's so much fun.” It clapped its hands together, an impatient gesture. It wanted to hurry this along. “You get to watch as people lose their lives bloodlessly, or before they have time to lose their blood, you know? Sometimes, you might attack, just for fun.” It grinned maliciously, but Saburo interrupted.

“That doesn't exactly seem like fun. I'm pretty sure I'm okay not knowing what that's like.” His heart battered him in his chest, almost seeming to be trying to flee rather than be lost. The threat was clear enough. He persisted, though, his smile light and empty of actual satisfaction. “So, thanks for the offer, but you don't have to show me.”

“Oh, it's no trouble at all... I'm sure you'll make a good demon, Saburo.” It laughed, a harsh sound, and unforgiving. Saburo was going to provide what it wanted, and it would not permit otherwise, even if he had reduced himself to begging, crying, shrieking. Knowing this, it was not hard for him to maintain his bearing, and he only gave a final sigh, as if the solid black smog that poured up from the ground to cover him was just a math test he didn't want to take.

“Somehow... I-I doubt that...” He coughed, unable to avoid taking the smog in through his mouth and nose. He held his breath, but that didn't stop it. It jammed itself down his throat unchecked, stirring wild sickness in his stomach, and somehow, it was pushing his blood. It claimed his heart, rolling down his veins and cornering the blood at the edges, pressing it from existence. This was by no means a quick process, and it was what might be called the essential opposite of painless. It overcame him completely before it had fully spread, he was shouting endlessly and he hurt too much to hear himself. Though the substance had seemed to have no more substance than fog ordinarily would, it felt as if razor blades were combing along his insides. They scraped at raw tissues; they would continue peeling away his entire self and leaving numbness behind, because trying to feel anything at that point would have been almost maddening.

The demon didn't wait for its work's final results to be shown, or even for the boy's screams to stop. Both would take a while. It immediately assumed command over the boy's body, steering it out to find what it needed to finish the process.

-----------------------------


<i>Nagogo's probably just out drinking again...</i>

Pirarah only half-mumbled that aloud to himself, for the most part, it remained an internal sentiment as he padded quietly up the Hinatas' front walk. As it happened, no one was entirely sure where the eel hybrid was, but there was no evidence to suggest he was anywhere other than a bar. It had been in the interest of time and out of that unshakeable concern that Pirarah came to the Hinatas' house, of all places, while Hikiki had gone the more conventional route. If Nagogo wasn't at the bar, and someone would know where he was, that person was as likely to be here as anywhere. The residents of this house, he had noticed, tended to be very knowledgeable of recent occurrences.

Having been so intensely focus on his thoughts, the young Keronian didn't see that the door was unzipped until after he tilted his head up to examine the door and figure out how he was going to enter. He eyed it curiously, he knew who had to have been responsible for that, and it was odd of that Pekoponian to not close up properly after he had done what he needed. He assumed that the boy had arrive only recently, an assumption both correct and incorrect. Saburo had not been there long, but then, it was open to debate as to whether or not Saburo had been the one to arrive.

Nonetheless, since he wasn't aware of that debate, Pirarah entered without much trepidation. Saburo was standing in the entrance hall, twirling his Pen in a familiar manner as he appeared to be inspecting the floor, probably planning to use it as a shortcut to the basement. The hybrid greeted him, and went on to address the most significant issue of the evening without delay, “Hi, Saburo... Have you seen Nagogo anywhere?”

“Oh, hey, little guy... It's been a while, hasn't it?” It doesn't turn right away, concealing a fresh rush of cruel delight with a smooth tone. “No, I haven't, sorry. But, anyway, I don't think that's what you need to be worried about...” The smoothness slipped a bit, pressured by impatience.

“Is something wrong?” Pirarah frowned more deeply.

“That would depend on who you ask,” the demon turns on his heel, his empty eyes wide. “However, I just think you should worry about yourself right now.” It lunged, grasping for the Keronian before it even reached him. The hybrid's shock filled him for a dangerously long moment, but reflex led him to throw himself out of its reach. He stumbled, but swiftly found his balance, and turned to face his friend, or at least, his friend's body, with hands curled into determined fists.

“What did you do to him?!” He demanded, though he was careful to keep his eyes to the ground. The memory of a sleepy spell drawing over his mind was clear, and he was not going to risk a repeat.

“You're better off not knowing. It would only make you even angrier than you already are, and I don't want things to get violent,” It held up a hand, an almost friendly gesture to accompany a teasing tone. That gave Pirarah pause, he didn't want to harm Saburo, but he knew that the Pekoponian would want him to do something, and more than that, he wanted to do something himself. This steadfast desire served as the visible bubbling atop increasingly heated anger, but he still held himself back. His teeth were the most obvious weapons at his disposal, but the thought of using them here was something he had reservations about, particularly since he had seen their effect on the Pekoponian last time. He did know, though, that he was not working with an unlimited amount of time. So, he took a breath, and made a lunge of his own, because acting would do far more than ideas that were restricted to the inside of his head could.

It hopped to the side just enough to avoid him, much to his frustration, and he stopped himself mid-dash to whirl and face it again. It folded its arms, grunting irritably, and snapped, “You're not even worth this time.” It had something it could do with Pirarah, naturally, it could generally figure out a way to twist someone to its advantage, but in this case, he didn't even need to think about what was to be done. It was unfortunate that after its time trapped, the demon had had its normally sparse patience reduced further. the hybrid would truly receive more of the brunt of this than Saburo had, as it carried on, “I've already hurt him enough. You think I'm going to spare time for you to hurt him more? It's hardly necessary.”

Pirarah flinched, but said, “No... If I just let you do this, then...”

“Then this will be that much shorter for all of us! The last thing this boy needs right now is rent flesh. Because oh, yes, spilling half his blood everywhere will of course give him the strength to fight me off!” It yelped erratically, bending forward over Pirarah and throwing its arms out wide. His eyelids leaped wide, and he swung his head rapidly back and forth, stammering, “...M-maybe not... but I wouldn't... I-I just need to stop you... He...”

“He would understand, yes. But that doesn't change the fact that he would be in even more incredible pain,” It sneered wickedly. “He was quiet about it last time, but do you think have his arm literally mangled didn't bother him? It did. So, you'd be doing that again, and it would only wreck his body for when he needs it later. He'll punish you then... I can promise you that.”

Pirarah opened his mouth, but any words that he meant to speak were firmly entrenched in his throat. He appeared entirely frozen, and while it probably would not have lasted that long, the demon snatched up the advantage, and swept its arms down to more literally snatch the hybrid's head. With its hold secure, it hurled the small alien at the wall, and he crashed against it with disturbing force. Slumping onto the floor, Pirarah struggled against the fragments of unconsciousness around his vision, focusing on the Pekoponian form before him. He was aware of a disgustingly sticky warmth spreading beneath his hat, and a shudder slid through him, releasing a faint groan. The demon approached him, settling down fluidly, while it was all the Keronian could do to stand up at the moment. He growled, “Y-you... I  won't... j-just... No!” He dived at the it again, catching it in a crouching position to successfully knock it off balance. At least they could be even in that.

----------------------------

Away from this, it wasn't as though the fighting had gone unnoticed. Deep under the house's foundations, the noise of Pirarah's earlier collision registered on the monitoring systems of one reclusive scientist, prompting him to pull up a visual display of the area.

“...Tch.” Kururu's skin pinched around the top of his glasses as he presumably narrowed his eyes under them. That looked troublesome to him, and even he had to consider the option that troublesome did not cover the situation well. He didn't know much about that fish-Keronian creature, and he didn't care to, but he knew that Saburo was buddies with him, or something like that. He shoved his glasses up on his face, his expression darkening more than usual as he dismissed all of that; the issue here was basic, just why they would be fighting. It seemed like a high-risk situation, and he didn't want to go into it unarmed, not by any means. He spun on his chair, turning to appraise the rest of the lab for a suitable weapon, and it didn't take him long to make his choice. His shoulders rumbled faintly with laughter that he kept silent behind his hand as he readied himself for liftoff.

------------------

The demon had not stayed on the ground for as long as Pirarah would have liked, but the Keronian's guard was fully up now, and he was making the best of his agility despite the vague tug of his injury against him. He was holding his own without question, and had this kept going, the time he bought could have been put to some effort, but it seemed that he would not have to overexert himself. A cry from below that signaled the surprising arrival of reinforcements, “Kuku! Out of the way up there, brat!”

Pirarah wasn't exactly sure where a good “out of the way” place would be, but judging from about where the voice had sounded to be underneath his feet, he guessed that scrambling behind the couch would be sufficient.  He didn't mind the insult, simply because he hardly noticed it here. The demon followed that advice, too, of course, regardless of the fact that it was not meant for it. It bounded across the room to hover against one of the walls, hopefully out of the range of whatever approached.

Kururu's mech ripped through the floor in a shower of fake-wood splinters, chaotic noise, and laughter  with an unmistakably threatening tint to it. The moonlight from the living room window glanced off his glasses as dust settled around him, and he was already working the pincers on the robot's arms furiously, clanging against renewed quiet. “Well, isn't this exciting? Though really, you two were just being much too noisy, it's going to disturb the peace.”

“...yellow guy?” The hybrid murmured tentatively, staring with mingled curiosity and shock. “What are you doing here?”

Kururu had no interest in answering any questions, and so he did not, instead reaching out with the robot's claw towards the demon. It dodged the first grab, but outmaneuvering robots was  farther than human bodies were meant to go, no matter who possessed them. It was caught when Kururu cut around with the second pincer. It hissed in rage, attempting to work the claw off its body without success, apparently rejecting them in favor of this. The verbal lashing was not too long in coming, however.

“...You idiots... Well, that's alright. This will just speed things up, I guess,” It flashed a calculating smile. “So, feel free to go poke around however you want and try to... remove me. It doesn't matter.” It tried to shrug, but with its arms pinned, it couldn't. The creature settled on looking smug in place of that.

“Oh, that demon from before? I thought we locked you up for good, what a shame...” Kururu did sound irritated, his mouth twisting into a bothered frown. This was perhaps as close as he would come to displaying anger. “But, still, you should do me a favor-”

“...Let us talk to Saburo,” Pirarah cut in, lifting his eyes from the fabric of the couch. He had treated it to a careful inspection as he sourly considered this situation; how Kururu had burst up here with some fancy device and snatched the demon like it was nothing, after he had been trying for much longer. The hybrid hopped onto the robot's head, perching above Kururu and giving the demon his coldest glare. He was not going to let this go easily, not this time. The demon half-closed its eyes, thinking over the request with a lazy smile still plastered on its face.

“I could... But it wouldn't be much of a conversation, and I don't think you'd like it. Just don't blame me, okay?” It laughed shortly.

“Of course we'll blame you. You're the one who did... whatever you did. Just <i>let us see</i>!” Pirarah raised his voice into a snarl at the end, and the demon sighed, the breath filled with regret.

“Sure, whatever,” It strained to shrug again; somehow, even without normally having a body, it had kept that reflex.  It became totally silent. The only noticeable change in Saburo's body was in his eyes again, but they were not restored with life as both Keronians had expected.

His eyes were brimming with black, without a trace of thought or light or even plain color.

“Hnn...” Kururu slouched down further in his chair, glowering at the boy. This might be a more substantial problem than he expected. He couldn't question for a moment that Saburo would have been in control, if not for his condition, whatever that was exactly.

“S-Saburo...? What?” It was Pirarah who crept forward, sliding off the head of the robot to cautiously make his way along its thin arm. When he stood closer to him, Pirarah could hear the teenager breathing shakily. He extended a hand, doing nothing more than tapping the Pekoponian on the shoulder, and as he didn't respond to that, shaking him a little harder. Still nothing. “What's wrong...?” He pressed, though he could see that he would get no answer, not from Saburo.

Strangely enough, Kururu did choose to answer, in a whisper,“I'm not precisely sure. But I'll find out, hmm?”
“You mean... we'll find out.” Pirarah turned around slowly, watching Kururu carefully. If not backing down here meant sticking with Kururu, even though he couldn't claim to be too fond of the yellow guy, then he would do so.

“Tch...” Kururu's face was briefly marked by a sour sneer, a refusal ready to be pronounced. It was only a glimpse of Saburo, and the knot squeezing in his stomach when he saw the boy that halted his tongue. He had no idea if time mattered or not, but it was safer to play this out as if it did. There was no time for arguing, and he was fairly certain the fish-brat would argue, judging by the steady resolve glistening at the back of his eyes. “Fine. But if you get in the way, I'm not going to rescue you.”

Pirarah bit back a soft retort, saying nothing aside from a clipped “I won't.” He picked his way back onto the robot's head, though he had was not able to settle before Kururu backed the robot up. The hybrid nearly lost his position, as Kururu did not do anything other than backing the mech into the hole it carved in the floor and falling into a largely uncontrolled drop. He did, by some luck, manage to keep himself in place, until they suddenly braked at the bottom, at which point he tumbled to the icy floor of the laboratory.

“...If you want to come, hurry up...” Kururu called after him, directing the robot toward the Soul Diver to deposit its charge. The other Keronian sprinted up to the device, skidding to a stop beside it. He ran a confused hand over the dark glass.

“What's this...?”

“You'll see. Just put on one of those nice hats and wait a little,” Kururu muttered, as he tipped Saburo into the device. He removed the remote from no apparent holding place, and prodded one of the buttons, sealing the hatch shut. He wriggled, prying himself out of the robot command chair and shuffling over to the Soul Diver's control panel.