DKFTI 90

Today, the Demon King is in a foul mood.

Perched on Kairin’s back, Raccoon idly scratched his belly before spotting Sibel far off, his shoulders slumped so low he looked ready to crawl on the ground.

“The Demon King seems in a foul mood! Raccoon!”

“Yes, little one. That’s because of something called the ‘rainy season’.”

“Rainy season?”

Kairin tilted his head in confusion.

“In the Demon Realm, a rainy season comes at certain times. When it arrives, the Demon Kings go completely mad.”

“Why does that happen?”

“How should I know?”

Raccoon was just a youngling barely over three years old. It was too short a time to know everything about the demon race. As the two put their not-quite-two heads together and whispered, a kind explainer appeared beside them.

“Rumors say the Rainy Season’s affliction is a curse incurred by provoking Heaven’s wrath, while others claim it’s proof of incomplete immortality.”

Ramiel smiled brightly at the pair. Today, too, he glided through the Demon King’s castle, radiant as ever.

“Rumors abound, but who truly knows the answer…?”

“Are you pretending to know, or refusing to say?”

Raccoon regarded Ramiel with a disinterested expression. He seemed displeased that the long-winded speech lacked any real substance.

“You too, don’t loiter around here during the Rainy Season. You might catch the eye of some bloodthirsty demon king and end up skinned alive.”

Raccoon stroked Kairin’s bumpy skin. It was something he enjoyed. Raccoon loved anything with an irregular shape and a unique texture.

“But our Demon King wouldn’t do anything that bad.”

“You never know. Just because last year was fine doesn’t guarantee this year will be too.”

Ramiel agreed with the Raccoon’s words.

“That’s right. As the magic power grows, the sickness deepens. And Lord Sibel’s magic power increases day by day.”

“Even if that’s true for us, you’re human, stay tucked away in your room and take care of yourself.”

“But wouldn’t that be stifling?”

“Anyway, during the rainy season it’s pitch black outside, the rain pours down, and everything’s gloomy, what’s so great about wandering around?”

Ramiel shrugged at Raccoon’s words. He was undeniably right. The torrential rain threatening to wash everything away and the endless darkness enveloping the world were indeed elements that made the rainy season psychologically frightening.

“But it has its own romantic charm, doesn’t it?”

“Romance’s frozen to death! Human, you’re not normal either. Instead of holing up in the Demon King’s Castle, you should check yourself into a hospital.”

“Thanks for the concern.”

Receiving Raccoon’s thoughtful worry, Lamiel smiled and turned away. Then, Kairin and Raccoon rolled around on the grass.

Kairin loved the Demon King’s Castle lawn. Its softness was better than the straw bed in his own room. So he kept rolling around on it, killing the blood-like grass Sibel had painstakingly cultivated. Yet Sibel never blamed Kairin.

“Let’s play tag!”

“How are you supposed to catch a flying pig?!”

“Let’s do it! Let’s do it!”

Kairin always insisted, and Raccoon would huff and puff in agreement. That was the magic of their friendship.

“But if you get caught, you get beaten until you drop.”

“Raccoon is scary.”

“Your size is scarier.”

“Let’s call the other friends too!”

And so the two began joyfully running around the courtyard.

***

The sinking feeling that came with every rainy season never grew familiar. But staying cooped up in his room meant enduring taunts like “Is the Demon King a shut-in?” So Sibel deliberately roamed the Demon King’s castle. They say walking is good for mental health, after all.

But if he truly cared about his mental health, shouldn’t he have cleared away the hazards first? As if to prove his point, Aizen’s arm draped over his already heavy shoulders.

“You look just like a foal that lost its bones.”

“More like a puppy.”

“Foal or puppy, whatever.”

How could someone be so indifferent about everything? Today, ‎ Aizen’s carefree attitude felt like a thorn in Sibel’s side. Normally, he’d just shrug it off, but the fact that it was bothering him now… Was this depression? Depression? They say that’s dangerous.

While Sibel was lost in rare serious thought, Aizen was playfully touching his soft cheek.

“I’m depressed.”

“Yeah. I know. You look it.”

Then show some awareness.

“What kind of man gets down because the weather’s gloomy?”

“Dullards like you heroes wouldn’t understand the heart of someone this sensitive.”

At Sibel’s words, Aizen shot back a sneer without a second’s hesitation. This brat…?

“If you’re gonna be so depressed, why not go smash something like the other Demon Lords do?”

“You’re crazy. My head would be chopped off in an instant.”

“You’ve always been good at self-objectification, haven’t you?”

“And I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

At Sibel’s words, Aizen rubbed the top of his head vigorously, his expression saying, ‘Good job, kid.’

It hurts, it hurts! I said it hurts! Sibel glared at Aizen, but Aizen casually avoided his gaze.

“Do you want me to cook something tasty?”

“Do you think I’m some simple demon king who cheers up over food?”

Instead of answering, Aizen started at Sibel’s eyes. Blink, blink, his eyelids rose and fell, but he remained still.

“…What is it?”

Sibel finally wavered. It seemed Aizen’s cooking skills had improved even more after three years of special training.

Sibel had considered holding a cooking competition at the Demon King’s castle soon, but after witnessing Aizen’s remarkable progress, he abandoned the idea. It’s best not to fight battles where the winner is already decided.

“There was a puppy at the lodgings where I grew up. Whenever the high priest – who it considered its master – went on a business trip, it would get jumpy for days on end. I guess it felt burdened by the responsibility of guarding the house.”

Aizen spoke, reminiscing about the past.

“When that pup was so tense, I’d sneak it pumpkin or sweet potatoes. I could see it lifted his spirits.”

Sibel listened quietly before getting angry.

“Are you implying I’m like that dog?”

“Just a sudden thought.”

“You’re not seriously planning to give me pumpkin or sweet potatoes, are you?”

He’s treating a depressed person like a dog!

“Well, depending on how you behave.”

“Seriously.”

He laughed hollowly, utterly dumbfounded. He considered turning back instead of following Aizen. But as if reading his mind, Aizen shoved him in the back. Naturally, his body moved forward with the push.

Just because I’m big! Just because I’m strong! It’s so unfair that I have to be pushed around like this!

“I hate pumpkin! Sweet potatoes either! Or carrots!”

“Uh, uh-huh. Yeah. Like being a picky eater is something to brag about.”

“I won’t open my mouth unless it’s fluffy bread!”

“Fine, fine. Stop embarrassing yourself.”

Aizen shook his head, the corners of his mouth curling up.

“You really are simple-minded.”

“Look at this! You mock me for being simple!”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

Thus, Sibel reluctantly went along with Aizen’s pestering to be treated to sweet snacks.

***

Ruru, who had an uncanny sense for the smell of baking bread, suddenly appeared. Sibel stuffed the snack into his mouth as if he was being chased.

His plan to nibble slowly and say something like, “Well, this is passable,” went up in smoke. Instead, he had to fight to keep the bread from being snatched away by Ruru.

Exhausted by the struggle, Sibel drifted off for a nap. His belly was full, and the sugar extracted from the carbohydrates flowed through his veins. It could be called the ultimate blood sugar spike nap, nothing could be better.

“Mmm… Ruru… No… Mine… Hey.”

Beside Sibel, who was even talking in his sleep, lay Ruru, his belly bulging, fast asleep as well.

“How on earth did they fall asleep at the table?”

Aizen found it astonishing that the two demons lay sprawled carelessly across the table, oblivious to the scattered plates, bread crumbs, and cream.

Moreover, Ruru stretched out flat on the table like a menu item placed there alive. Eating something like that would surely cause serious trouble. Lost in strange thoughts, Aizen pulled the chair opposite Sibel and sat down.

His gaze fell upon the crown of Sibel’s head.

Though he’d fed him something after seeing him mope all day, the thought of Sibel enduring every rainy season like this weighed heavily on his heart.

Eizen sat up straight and opened the book he’d brought.

Rustle.

Wearing an apron frilled with ruffles, Aizen crossed his long legs and turned the pages. As he listened to the soft breathing and flipped through the pages one by one,

Tap, thud, tap.

The sound of raindrops hitting the window intruded like a discordant note. Aizen’s gaze drifted toward the window. The sky had turned pitch black even before sunset.