Chapter 60: The Kami in the Suit
Thora just had so—so much to unpack.
To the point where she and Alduin had spent the past 30 minutes in a repetitive back and forth, just so she could confirm, double-confirm, triple-confirm, and then quadruple-confirm that everything he had just told her really did happen, and wasn't part of some elaborate scheme to throw her train of thought off the rails.
Even after it all, she still struggled to make sense of the bewildering information she had been given.
She knew that something considerably grave had to be going on to cause Alduin such mental distress—but knowing that proved utterly useless when it came to comprehending what he had been up to throughout the past week and some change.
Despite his repeating it all, as coherently as he possibly could, dozens of times.
Not that he blamed her, the fact that he was colluding with the Governor-General of Grigori behind Serafall's back, while being under employment, and him hiding the whole Martha fiasco from Sirzechs, pretty much meant that Alduin had committed two acts of flat-out treason. Against two of the Four Great Satans.
And surprise, surprise, his telling Thora everything made her complicit. Which was a big part of why he was so reluctant to tell her anything in the first place.
Ironically enough, there was no way for him to truly convey the gravity of everything he had done without making her an accomplice.
The possibility of Thora reporting what he had done never crossed his mind. It was the possibility of what he had done getting out, and his bosses holding the maid's silence against her, that bothered him.
Alduin knew Serafall and Sirzechs weren't exactly the spiteful type, but what he did made the situation personal. More so for the latter than the former. Which meant their reactions would more likely than not end up proving... unpredictable.
"…Why?" She muttered, gripping her temple and withholding the urge to yell at him so more lest she end up popping a vessel. "Why would you withhold all this from them? Do you have any idea what kind of danger you've put yourself in!? They could have your head for this if they wanted!"
"I'm aware." He shrugged, his posture infuriatingly relaxed. "I have my reasons for why I went along with the Governor-General's plan, and my reasons for what I did regarding mother. Which would you like to hear first?"
She breathed a deep sigh of resignation. "Somehow, that second one confuses me a thousand times more than the first. So let's start with the Governor first…"
"Mm. That one's a lot simpler to explain." He nodded his agreement. "The Governor's proposition represents a chance for peace. After an unimaginable time period of bloodshed, violence, and countless border conflicts between us. I'll be honest, I couldn't care less about the Underworld itself as a whole."
Thora's eyes went wide at that. It was the first time she had ever heard him express such an opinion.
"However, when I think about the futures of the people I do care for, like you, like Roygun, like my students. Don't you think it's only right that I at least try to help such a thing come to fruition? Hell, I'm well aware of how legally ambiguous what I did was, but ethically speaking, as a member of Foreign Affairs. Couldn't you say I basically had a responsibility to work towards a chance for peace when presented with the opportunity? Isn't that the whole point of this department's existence?"
Alduin let out a calming breath, recomposing himself.
"My reasoning's simple. I thought it was the right thing to do, that's all." He concluded, not an ounce of hesitation or regret in his tone or expression. Every word he said, he meant with absolute conviction.
Yet, it didn't do much to ease Thora's overwhelming concern for his safety. The off chance of all his dealings being exposed still eating away at her—and her soaring blood pressure.
She massaged her forehead, mulling over his words before continuing. "Putting Lady Leviathan aside for a moment, what makes you sure you can hold the Governor-General to his word? What if he's just using you for his own ends?"
"He isn't," Alduin replied flatly.
"Again, how can you be sure?" She groaned her frustration.
"Again, it's simple." His tone remained firm. "Azazel has everything to gain from following through with his promises, and everything to lose from turning his back on them." He didn't need to trust the man himself, merely his principles.
"Meaning?"
"He's a man of science, similar to our Lord Beelzebub. I may not be an egghead myself, but I don't have to be to understand that Grigori's development will progress best during peacetime." He chuckled dryly. "Besides, he doesn't have the guts to try to pull a fast one on me."
Alduin recalled the unease on the Governor's face when he brought up the topic of him possessing Tiamat's essence. His fear was faint, but that wasn't what Alduin was focused on, rather—he was paying attention to the 'type' of fear Azazel demonstrated.
The exact same kind Alduin felt when he faced his mother, not nearly as potent, but still the same.
And that wasn't even considering the fact that the young Buné had Serafall on speed dial. If Azazel failed to uphold his end of the bargain, it was only natural that Alduin responded in kind.
"When I first met Azazel back at the abandoned church, I witnessed a side to him that was much—much different from what I imagine most people saw." Alduin reminisced, remembering the grief Azazel had shown him. "There wasn't an ounce of falsehood in his voice when he explained the situation to me back then. Azazel doesn't war. He hasn't wanted it for the thousands upon thousands of years that passed since the Great War, and he doesn't now either. Kokabiel is an independent party, he does not represent Grigori's modus operandi. Not in the slightest."
If Alduin were to report Grigori's further failings to Serafall, it would only sow further discord and mistrust between the two sides. Making things exponentially easier for Kokabiel.
Like Azazel, he had absolutely no interest in letting tensions rise just because of one wayward Cadre's disillusioned lust for war.
"At any moment, I could ring Serafall and tell her about everything that's been happening. Sure, I'd have to explain my knowledge, and get in serious trouble for what I've been doing. But compared to the trouble it'll cause for Azazel? It'll basically be like a slap on the wrist." He folded one leg over the other. "If he truly has something nefarious planned for me, do you honestly believe he'd leave himself so exposed?"
He fiddled with Downfall Dragon Spear. The ace in the hole Azazel physically could not retrieve until Kokabiel was dealt with.
Thora pursed her lips, a crease forming between her brow. "Maybe that's just what he wants you to believe," her scepticism persisted. "To lower your guard and make you easier to manipulate."
[Must this one refer to my partner with such misplaced distrust, little parasite?]
Relax, she's just worried about me, and in all fairness, I haven't really given her much reason not to be as of late.
"I suppose that's a possibility," he hummed, nodding his partial agreement. "If it proves true, then it was rather foolish of me to let him pull the wool over my eyes like that, wasn't it?" He wore a faint smile.
Thora frowned. "That isn't funny."
"I never said it was." He sighed, the gravity in his demeanour returning. "I took a gamble when I chose to consume Tiamat's blood at such an early stage in my growth. In a sense, this is no different. Only this time, I have reason to believe the odds are in my favour. If it's an absolute guarantee you want regarding Azazel's trustworthiness, I can't give you that. Both of us are taking a risk by collaborating with each other, and we've both chosen to believe that we'll hold up our end of the bargain. Since neither of us are mind-readers, we can't know for sure whether or not the other's holding a knife behind their back."
As much as Thora wanted to find a way to separate him from the Governor, it was evident that Alduin had a considerable amount of faith in Azazel. Enough to risk his standing with Serafall for the sake of helping him bring about the 'peace' he was promising.
"Do you at least have a plan, just in case things do go wrong with the Governor-General?" She asked with an undertone of hopefulness.
Alduin hummed, leaning backwards while folding his arms. "That depends."
"On?"
"On how Lady Leviathan and Lord Lucifer choose to react to that information. If they decide to let me off with a slap on the wrist, maybe revoking a few privileges here and there. I'll take it on the chin and move on."
"And if they settle on something harsher?" There was one, prime privilege they had granted Alduin he couldn't afford to lose.
His political Satan-backed protection. Allowing him to remain in Kuoh with no interference from his father.
"Then I'll become either a defector or an exile," he shrugged. His answer disappointing Thora a great deal. "There's a truckload of bad that could come my way as a result of what I'm doing, you don't need to remind me of that. Trust me. However, there's also a lot of good that could come from it too. Which is why I'm taking this risk in the first place."
As per usual, once Alduin had made up his mind, there was little she could do to dissuade him.
Though in all fairness, it was a little late for him to turn his back on the Governor now—even if he wanted to.
"I'm not sure how to feel about the fact that you just suggested something like that without batting an eye." Thora deadpanned, not pleased with how ready he seemed to pack everything up and hightail it if things were to take a turn for the worse.
His preparedness suggested he had already deliberated over this before, perhaps from the moment he first made contact with the Governor-General.
It didn't make sense to her. How could he be so disposed to the idea of cutting off all ties from his home? Where was his hesitation? Where did such a mindset even stem from?
For someone who had spent the entirety of his formative years trapped within his father's bubble, Alduin was oddly capable of stepping out of his comfort zone. Far more than she could ever have expected.
"Such is life, drastic situations require drastic measures." He replied evenly. "Still, just because I've prepared for the worst-case scenario doesn't mean I won't do everything in my power to prevent it from happening. After all, now I'm telling you this, you'll more likely than not be implicated in everything I do, and everything that's done to me."
"As I should be."
He offered her no response. Merely giving her a blank, indiscernible look in return before letting out a resigned sigh.
Am I really doing the right thing here? Dragging you into all this to a point where you won't be able to turn back?
He knew Thora would resent him if he continued to bottle everything up. Yet, he couldn't help but feel obligated to weigh her satisfaction and safety. As if he needed to find some kind of balance between the two.
Which was much easier said than done, since he couldn't bring himself to decide which of the two was more important to him.
"Yes, as you should be." He paused his train of thought, deciding to move on to the next, infinitely more complicated topic they were about to discuss. "Now then, I imagine you're a lot more interested in what's going on between me and mother than you are with me and Azazel, aren't you?"
Her strained silence was answer enough.
"Where do I even begin?" He exhaled, rhythmically tapping his chin. His thoughts on the woman were virtually endless, but the ones he could properly convey to another person could be counted on one hand. "I guess I should start by saying I don't condone what she's done. In fact, I want nothing more than to head down there and personally make my opinion on what she did very clear—but I think we both know how that'd end for me." He finished with a dry chuckle.
Thora's expression tightened with confusion. "You don't condone her actions, yet you chose to defend her from the consequences of them. Why?"
"Because she would've faced the one and only consequence I'm not willing to let her face," his gaze steeled. "Death."
"You don't know if—"
"If Lord Lucifer would do it?" He interrupted with a predictive glare. "He would. Any preset laws or regulations wouldn't mean a damn thing in the wake of an enraged Satan Lucifer. I know that, he knows that, and anyone foolish enough to even consider getting in his way knows that. He's the strongest, that's justification enough for him to do as he pleases."
Even now that Alduin had been made aware of his mother and Zekram Bael's relationship, he knew it wouldn't make a difference. Unless Sirzechs was interested in hearing a rebuttal to his actions, what could the Ancestor actually do?
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing at all.
"You say that, but I don't recall Lord Lucifer having much of a vengeful reputation." Thora continued, still not sold on his firm belief. "Yes, the Lady would be punished—harshly so. But a guaranteed death penalty? I can't help but feel like you're jumping to conclusions."
He shook his head in disapproval. "Lord Lucifer and Lady Leviathan share the same intensity when it comes to the love they hold for their younger sisters." A deep, reminiscent breath followed. "She was ready to go to war with Grigori, storming the organization on her lonesome just because a group of lowly, insignificant rogue Fallen Angels were present in Sona's town."
Thora pressed her lips together, biting down on her lower lip. It was starting to become apparent that her odds of winning this argument were just as slim as the last.
Noticing that he didn't need to elaborate, Alduin took a moment to gather his words.
"Regardless, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little disappointed that you even suggested such a thing in the first place." His voice lowered, his tone emphasizing umbrage.
"…Disappointed?" She blinked. She couldn't remember the last time he took that tone with her, if ever.
Alduin's eyes narrowed into a cold, fiercely judgmental stare. "Your entire point is based on the assumption that I'm willing to risk whether or not Lord Lucifer will kill her in the first place." He watched with indifference as she seemed to shrink under the intensity of his indisposition. "We've been over this, haven't we? Yes, she's flawed, but she's still my mother."
Thora balled her fist, rasping her next word. "…Why?"
He raised a brow. "Pardon?"
"Why is she your mother to you?! Why do you see her that way?! Why don't you resent her?!" She yelled, her words filled with desperation as if she were finally letting out something she had kept bottled up for quite some time. "I don't understand! What love has she shown you?! What warmth?! What anything?! It doesn't make any fucking sense! The Lady is your mother in blood only! I've seen it! You've experienced it firsthand for the past eighteen years! Yet…! Yet you speak of her with such… with such… care… I… I don't get it… I don't get it at all Alduin…. Why? Tell me…"
He breathed a regretful sigh, reaching out and pulling her into a careful embrace as her eyes turned glossy.
This was why he had been so hesitant to bring this topic up, he knew exactly how hard it'd be for her to fathom, and he knew he wouldn't be able to truly help her make sense of it all—no matter how hard he tried.
Some emotions just didn't translate into words that well.
"…Would she even appreciate it? The fact that you saved her from a fate she was solely responsible for?" She burrowed her head into his chest, clutching the reins of his kimono.
"No clue. Her pleasure or displeasure really isn't important to me, but I guess that goes both ways, doesn't it?" He quipped in a poor attempt to lighten the mood.
"Not funny."
"Yeah, sorry." He sheepishly rubbed his nape. "Point being, I didn't do this in some futile attempt to win mother's affection. I'm not counting on receiving such a thing from her, assuming she's even capable of giving it."
"…How?" Thora choked on her words. "How can you be fine with that? Something so… hopeless?"
His lips curled up into a faint, oddly comforting smile. "I'm not entirely sure of that myself. Maybe it's because that's how things have always been between us? Part of me might just be content with accepting things as they are when it comes to her. Or maybe… she's just my type? Heh."
"NOT FUNNY!" She grabbed hold of his ear, pulling it with full-force. "Please stop trying to make light of the situation, it's getting annoying!"
"Owowowow! Sorry! Sorry! Please forgive this foolish Young Lord!" He pleaded. Genuinely convinced that she was about to rip his ear clean off.
"I'm serious, if I ever catch you falling for a woman like that, I'll personally have you admitted into a psychiatric ward. Understood?" Her ironclad glare made the weight of that promise perfectly clear to him.
"Yes, Ma'am!" He saluted.
"Good," she sighed in relief. Making a mental note to be extra cautious of the women Alduin associated himself with from now on. Even if he had only spoken in jest, it never hurt to be careful.
Anything that stretches beyond Lady Roygun's clinginess is an absolute no-go for you.
Thora reeled back, taking a breather so she could gather her sporadic, turbulent emotions. "Listen, I'm pleased that you finally decided to share all this with me, however—"
"It feels like I've left you with even more questions than I have answers, right?" He knew precisely what was going through her mind.
"…Yes." She replied with an apologetic nod, knowing full well that he was doing his best to make things clear to her.
"I know, when it comes to my explanation of why I so desperately want to keep mother safe—I've pretty much given you the equivalent of one giant nothing burger." He breathed a resigned exhale, deciding to make one final attempt to put his thoughts into perspective. "This might sound a little corny, but I feel like if she dies, an important part of me will die alongside her. It's an irrational yet terrifying feeling, and I'm not sure if there's anything I can do about it…"
Yeah, that does sound a little corny… but more importantly... it's infuriatingly cryptic. She furrowed her brow, trying her hardest to decipher something concrete out of what he was telling her.
"You mean… you don't feel whole without her?" As much as she loathed such a truth, living in complete denial of its existence wasn't going to get her anywhere.
Alduin hummed thoughtfully. "That's not a bad way to put it." Abruptly, he stood up and walked over to the wardrobe, shuffling through its contents in search of something particular. "I know I seem a little grumpy, but I'm glad I was able to get this off my chest. I doubt I would've been able to if you hadn't pushed me, so thank you for that."
"The feeling's mutual." She watched with intrigue as he continued to rummage through his collection of attire. "Are you going somewhere?"
"Yeah, I'm going to make a trip to the Genshirou household to make sure everything's alright with him and his siblings. Since they're in a time of mourning, I think it's only right that I put on something more formal." He looked back at her. "Do we have anything like that in here?"
Thora nodded. "I recall Lady Leviathan having one of her department's official suits stored somewhere in there."
===
Stress.
Overwhelming stress.
That was the unfortunate emotion weighing down on the shoulders of the blond youth that was Genshirou Saji.
Fate hadn't been kind to him, both his body and spirit struggling to keep up with his studies, part-time job, household chores, looking after his younger brother and sister—Haru and Kaede—and watching over his grandfather's ailing health.
The only parental figure he had in his life since the untimely passing of his late mother and father.
And just this morning, after having him rushed to the hospital by paramedics, he had been met with the news that the elder Genshirou had met his end.
The household no longer had an adult figure to look after it. Saji, no longer had someone to look up to in his time of need. No one to seek advice and wisdom from when it came to the tumultuous challenge of being a good role model for his siblings. No one to stand by him and stop his weary mind from crumbling under all the pressure.
Now it was just him. He, alone, was solely responsible for the household and its inhabitants.
Every chore. Every meal. Every bill.
Oh, the bills.
With his pre-existing responsibilities, Saji had picked up quite the knack for managing his financials—and from what he had derived from the stack of mail and notepad markings in front of him consisting of due payments for electricity, heating, water, groceries, and tuition.
Adding up all his savings and what moderate funds his grandfather had left behind for him, he'd only be able to fully support himself and his siblings for three more months—four if he decided to limit his consumption even more than he already was.
Not exactly the most sustainable lifestyle for someone with a routine as physically and mentally demanding as his.
"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, gripping his bangs out of sheer frustration as his eyes traced over the numbers before him.
Even if he were to drop out of school to pick up full-time work, perhaps even multiple gigs—it wouldn't be enough. At most, he'd be able to cover groceries and utilities if he were conservative enough.
But managing both Haru and Kaede's tuitions on top of that? With the salaries available to someone who had yet to even obtain their high school diploma, his chances were virtually non-existent.
Sure, the Japanese Government was currently investing a hefty amount of funding into educational subsidies. However, those were mostly reserved for private higher education institutions, prestigious universities and such.
Not to mention that they also operated on a competitive funding scheme, Saji loved his siblings more than anything—but he knew they weren't exactly 'genius' material, and he wasn't exactly in a position to hire a tutor for them.
Especially not when their rates ranged from ¥3,000 to ¥10,000 per hour, a price that he'd have to pay twofold to account for both of them.
(AN: DxD takes place in 2008. When $1 US = ¥103.39. Compared to $1 US = ¥156.41 in 2025.)
Saji was stuck, no matter how hard he racked his brain, he couldn't think of a long-term, sustainable way to keep the household's finances going.
If worst came to worst, he'd have no other choice than to put his siblings into foster care, and that was something he absolutely could not let come to pass—no matter the cost. For both his sake and theirs.
He had lost his mother. His father. His grandfather. If he lost them too? He had no idea how he'd go on.
He turned to a part of his living room, eyeing the memorial shrine that had been erected for his grandfather. His gaze trailed the faint, woody trail of smoke lifting off the burning incense stick.
Kami, if you're listening, please lend me a helping hand, just this once. I've endured more than my fair share of rain, haven't I? Don't you think it's about time I get a little sunshine?
It'd be nice if Lady Luck sided with him for a change.
Saji's ears perked up, the noise of something pattering against the balcony railing alerting him.
Yeah, I don't even have the energy to be surprised. He narrowed his eyes, deadpan at the sight of the sudden weather change.
It had started to rain, as if he were being mocked from up above.
I'm glad you find my anguish o' so amusing.
Another sound followed, putting a questioning smoulder on Saji's face as he turned to face his front door.
Someone was knocking.
His eyes flicked towards the clock, wondering what someone was doing at his residence so early in the morning.
"Coming," the knocking persisted, causing Saji to stand up and walk over to greet the unexpected visitor.
Woah.
Upon opening the door, he found himself looking at a strange-looking, yet sharply dressed man.
He had long, ashen, porcupine-like hair. A faint, sympathetic smile on his face. A pair of bright, verdant eyes that Saji couldn't help but want to avoid meeting, both of which contained vertical, slit reptilian pupils, and for some unthinkable reason, on his head rested two pairs of—
Horns? What the hell? Why is there a Gaijin cosplayer at my front door? Saji took a mental step back, looking him up and down with understandable confusion.
His attire consisted of a white, freshly ironed long-sleeved shirt with a pristine black tie fashioned into a Windsor Knot. A set of black slacks, brown loafers composed of an evidently high-quality brand of leather, and to top it all off—a black, unbuttoned trenchcoat draped over his shoulders.
"Genshirou Saji, I presume?" The man asked, his expression unchanging.
"…That's me." Saji replied with a tone of uncertainty. His face scrunching up with scrutiny as he tried to brainstorm who this could possibly be, and more importantly, why he was here.
The man proceeded to lower his head, wiping his smile off his face. "I'm sorry for your loss, Genshirou-san." His voice echoed with genuine condolence.
Saji blinked with heightened confusion. He had never seen this man in his entire life, nor had any requests to visit his grandfather by anyone beside him been made in the hospital.
"Uh… thanks?" He scratched his cheek. "Sorry, I don't mean to sound rude, but who exactly are you? Are you a lawyer or something?"
"A lawyer? No." He chuckled faintly. "However, I am a civil servant of sorts, and I'm here to help you handle some of your affairs Genshirou-san. Namely, your financial ones."
Immediately, Saji's expression brimmed with scepticism.
"If you're a loan shark hoping to get me at my lowest, I suggest you take your leave—now." He crossed his arms, immensely unnerved by the man's piercing stare, but still determined to remain firm.
"I assure you I'm nothing of the sort," he replied evenly. His demeanour unwavering. "I'm not here to make any sort of deal with you whatsoever, written or verbal. I merely wish to offer you some support on behalf of an acquaintance of mine."
"Uh-huh." Naturally, Saji wasn't sold. As a matter of fact, the man's cryptic wording only made him seem even more shady. "And who exactly is this 'acquaintance' that my grandfather neglected to tell me about? I mean, assuming he's even real and this isn't some elaborate scheme you're cooking. Why isn't he here instead of you? Or is my grandfather's literal death not enough of a reason for him to show his face?"
The man sighed. "Unfortunately, I'm not at liberty to disclose—"
"Yep. Thanks for coming." Saji rolled his eyes, quickly moving to close the door in the suit's face.
Thunk!
But he only managed to close it three-quarters of the way, interrupted by the presence of a frighteningly strong foot wedging itself in between the door's frame.
A nervous bead of sweat rolled down Saji's cheek.
"Move your foot, or I'm calling the police." He demanded, not sure what to make of the blank look on the man's face.
"I understand you and your family are in a time of mourning, Genshirou-san. But I really think you ought to hear me out," he exhaled, realizing that it may have been best to postpone this meeting a little longer. "Just let me say my piece, and I'll be out of your hair right afterwards."
Saji pressed his lips together in deliberation. "If you just want to talk, then I presume there's no need for you to come inside—is there?"
Haru and Kaede had locked themselves in their rooms after hearing the news of their grandfather's passing from their older brother.
Saji wanted nothing more than to provide them the emotional comfort they needed—however—he just couldn't figure out how to.
After all, he himself wasn't faring much better.
"If that's what you prefer." He nodded his understanding, withdrawing his foot, adjusting his tie—and handing him a sleek, all-black metal card from his trenchcoat pocket.
"Is that…?" Saji's breath sharpened, his eyes widening in recognition.
"Yes, it's a Visa Platinum debit card." The suit confirmed, causing Saji's fingers to tremble a little as he gripped the object in his hands. "I was told there was a figure somewhere around ¥100,000,000 in the account's name."
Deafening silence fell between them. Saji's eyes looked like they were on the verge of bursting right out of his sockets as his mind mulled over the number that had just left his visitor's mouth.
"Oh, and the pin's your grandfather's date of birth."
"…"
Saji's silence persisted. His gaze blank as a deer caught in headlights.
"Genshirou-san? Are you alright?" The man tilted his head.
"Bullshit," Saji blurted.
"Pardon?"
"I said—bullshit! Do you honestly expect me to believe that?! ¥100,000,000?! Was my grandfather acquainted with the Chairman of Nintendo or what?!" He threw the card right back at the man, his face fuming with indignation, fully convinced that he was being mocked amidst his time of desperation.
The suit caught the card between his fingers with effortless, freak precision. Letting out a thoughtful hum as he pondered how best to soothe Saji's worries.
"I understand that such a sum may be hard to fathom, but I assure you your beneficiary isn't playing some sick, twisted joke on you." Gently, he set the card down on the residence's doormat. "You don't need to take my word for it, Genshirou-san. You can test it yourself at the nearest ATM when you have the time."
Saji blinked repeatedly, desperately wanting to deny the sense of truthfulness emanating from the man, and at the same time—desperately wanting to believe it was true. That all his financial issues had been solved by some mystery saviour connected to his grandfather.
"Ah, one last thing." The suit's eyes lit up in recollection. He reached into his trenchcoat once more and withdrew a piece of paper with an address and phone number written down on it. "Should any further complications or needs arise, feel free to contact or visit me if I'm unable to pick up for whatever reason."
The eldest Genshirou's eyes remained glued to the debit card quietly resting on his doormat, his mind struggling to make heads or tails of what was happening to him.
¥100,000,000?
Just like that? Conveniently right after he had prayed for some good fortune?
Really?
"Shouldn't you tell me the name of grandfather's—?" By the time he looked up to question the visitor further, he had vanished from sight. Leaving no trace or sound of his departure behind. "…acquaintance?"
With his mouth slightly agape, he looked up into Kuoh's cloudy, pouring sky.
Kami?
===
Good grief. ¥100,000,000? What was Azazel thinking? That's way too much dough for someone in his position to handle.
Not that I'm against Genshirou having a truckload of money after all he's endured, but still, when Azazel said he was loaded, I didn't know he meant he was loaded loaded.
That much money could wind up putting that boy in some serious trouble if it attracts the wrong kind of attention, granted, Saji's proven to be quite financially capable—so it's highly possible Azazel simply trusts him to use it wisely.
Oh well, that's my job done I guess. Until his Sacred Gear awakens that is, which judging from his aura, I imagine will happen pretty damn soon. The grief he felt over his grandfather's death must've hastened the awakening process by a considerable amount.
[Little parasite.]
Speaking of which.
Yeah?
[You were right, the scent of a dragon clings tightly to him. I noticed it when my partner came and visited him not too long ago, however, the scent just now was a lot more familiar than it was then, a lot more.]
Oh? I raised one brow, my curiosity piqued.
[The young one possesses the essence of one of my fellows within him. Vritra's essence. It's an awfully weak fragment, but it's there. Without question.]
Vritra?
My eyes shot up in realization.
Wait a minute, Vritra the Prison Dragon? A Dragon King?
[I used the word 'fellows', who else would I be talking about?]
Oh boy.
This just got a lot more complicated, didn't it?
===
AN: Don't get me wrong, I enjoy seeing Alduin interact with the canon cast and all, but I don't want this story to just be a retelling of canon, or solely canon interactions/branches. I have a lot of original stuff I'd like to do as well, which is why I'll be speeding things along a little next chapter.
Starting with Riser Phenex.
———
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