Suddenly, Emi pointed a finger right between Chiho’s eyebrows.
“What about that, though? That’s odd.”
Chiho crossed her eyes to follow Emi’s fingertip. Then, a moment later, something right there—her skin, her skull bone, some nerve or another—some unknown part of her body began to exert pressure upon her head, as if blood was rushing toward that single spot.
“I-I do feel it. It’s like something’s…being set off right here. Ow.” She began rubbing the ridge between her eyebrows, unable to stave off the discomfort.
“Holy force is harmless to the human body, but it does form a kind of presence that makes itself known. We can only gain a vague sense of where it is, but…”
Chiho was about to nod distractedly at Emi’s explanation before Suzuno’s warning made her lift her head up.
“Sssh! He’s here!”
She was looking right at the small build of Sariel, clad in a suit.
But:
“His skin’s gray…”
“Talk about the walking dead.”
The shocking transformation in Sariel’s countenance made both Chiho and Emi involuntarily tense up. His gaunt face and emaciated, ghostlike form were a far cry from the wannabe playboy of the past. It was hard to picture him having any success with the ladies looking like that. Given how he was well on the way to obesity with his thrice-a-day MgRonald habit not long ago, seeing this crash diet of his was honestly disquieting.
“Have a good one, sir!”
Whether he heard another staffer wish him well or not, Sariel barely so much as lifted a hand as he trudged out of the restaurant.
“What do you think?”
“It should be obvious. We must pursue him.”
The three girls flew out of their seats and followed behind. The pursuit wasn’t exactly a challenge. Sariel’s pace was so plodding, so meandering, there was no possible chance he would elude them.
“Okay, but…then what?”
“We have to revive his spirits, somehow. Before anything unwelcome happens.”
“This is unwelcome enough already, but…we’ll see, I guess.”
“I would like to accost him someplace without any prying eyes upon us. We will follow him home, then force our way inside.”
“Fair enough. Even if it winds up in a fight, Alas Ramus can make short order of that scythe of his.”
The conversation between the Hero and Church cleric reminded Chiho of little more than a pair of burglars plotting their heist. She glanced at the time on her phone.
“Ah…it’s already six…”
Emi doubled back and took a look at the MgRonald behind them.
“Oh, you have work tonight, Chiho?”
“Yeah. Sorry…I probably wouldn’t be back in time for my shift if I joined you.”
“I totally understand. I have the worst time getting free of work myself, sometimes…”
“Oh, don’t worry about it, Yusa! I’m just glad you made it here.”
“Yeah. Well, we’ll go ahead first, then. Just focus on work for tonight, Chiho.”
“Sure thing. Sorry I couldn’t be more help.”
“You’re already more than enough help, Chiho,” Emi reassured Chiho. “If it weren’t for you, we’d have no idea that idiot angel is in trouble. We can handle the rest.”
The three girls parted ways in front of Sentucky Fried Chicken. Emi and Suzuno followed the staggering Sariel to parts unknown.
Smartphone at the ready so they could track their progress on a map, the pursuers followed him down the shopping street, through a walking path, and into a timeworn residential zone. At the far end of it was a condo building.
“Is that it?”
Even before Sariel approached it, the pair could tell the building was almost brand-new. Zoning regulations prevented it from having too many floors, but through the windows, Emi could tell its occupants enjoyed more free space than she did at her place. Its front faced a two-lane road, and like many apartment buildings downtown, the first floor had two spots reserved for business tenants; one was occupied by a convenience store selling fresh produce.
“That would certainly make things easy on rainy days,” praised Suzuno, her motherly/housewifery instincts coming to the surface.
The other business space had a FOR RENT sign on it, but judging by what was visible through the window, it was set up to be a café of some sort.
Sariel, paying them no obvious mind, made it through the crosswalk and disappeared into the building’s entrance.
“That must be the place. ‘Heaven’s Chateau,’ though? Seriously?”
That was the name on the sign—HEAVEN’S CHATEAU HATAGAYA. Emi sneered at it before something occurred to her.
“Hmm?”
“What is it?”
Emi’s eyelids burst open as the duo waited for another walk-signal cycle before crossing. Someone familiar had just exited the convenience store. The figure walked down the opposite sidewalk, not approaching them. Emi watched her walk off, breathing a sigh of relief that she didn’t have to pass her by and give her a polite “hello” or the like.
“What is it?”
“Didn’t you notice? Maybe the street clothes threw you off. That’s the manager at the MgRonald… Kisaki, I think it was.”
Suzuno followed Emi’s gaze, but the figure was already out of sight, going down the next crosswalk ahead and behind a building.
“Kisaki…? Why was she in that building?”
“…I dunno. I’m sure it’s just a coincidence, but…”
“But? Do you have your doubts?”
“Well, like… If they were speaking to each other, Sariel wouldn’t be going around like a zombie, would he?”
“…True.”
As they spoke, their eyes drifted back to the signal. The walk sign was already about to tick down to zero.
“Ah…!”
The moment they took a step to cross, the timer stopped and flipped back to red. The two of them resignedly brought their feet back to the curb.
“…No, the very idea is impossible. I could never imagine Kisaki giving Sariel so much as the time of day. Kisaki’s dismissal of Sariel is the whole reason for his downtrodden behavior, is it not?”
“One would think… I haven’t spoken to Kisaki all that much myself, but from what the Devil King and Chiho tell me, she’s not the type of lady to give a crap about some guy who crumbled to dust the moment she dumped him.”
Disquieting thoughts crossed Emi’s and Suzuno’s minds for a moment.
“Well. We can consider this later. Lord Sariel takes precedence.”
“Can we get the apartment number from the mailboxes? Oh, but what if it’s an auto-lock door?”
Considering the building’s newness, that seemed pretty likely. They had no problems with storming Sariel’s residence, but not if it meant causing trouble for the other tenants. Emi tried to think of a way to reach his place without causing a ruckus.
Then, both of them gasped out loud.
“Ah!”
To their amazement, Sariel himself walked back out of the building. When he had his suit on, he could just barely manage to maintain an air of decency. But now, in a beat-up jersey and T-shirt, he looked beyond all hope.
“Well,” observed Suzuno, as he walked to the convenience store Kisaki had just departed, “clothes certainly make the man after all.”
“If that’s how he’s looking, I guess Kisaki didn’t just pay him a visit, no.”
“Quite true. The light is turning green, Emilia. We had best accost him while we—”
The pair were already halfway across the street when they realized Sariel was stopped in front of the convenience store’s automatic door, standing bolt upright.
“?”
Did he notice us? Not that Emi cared. But why didn’t he turn around?
Gingerly, Suzuno attempted to engage him verbally.
“Lord…Sariel?”
“My…goddess…”
&nbs
p; “Huh?”
“My goddess was here?!?!”
“Aghhhh!”
Without warning, he latched on to the shoulders of Suzuno, eyes wide and bloodshot. It caught Emi off guard.
“Wh-what are you doing?! Get your hands off Bell!”
“Answer me, Crestia Bell! She was, wasn’t she?! She was here, my most beloved of goddesses, until mere moments ago!!”
“P-please, Lord Sariel, calm yourself! When, when you say ‘goddess,’ do you mean Ms. Kisaki from MgRonald?”
“Sh-she was here?!”
Suzuno’s revelation clearly took the wind out of Sariel’s sails. He turned his pleading eyes toward Suzuno, then Emi.
“Why do you care if she was?! Just let go of Bell already! I’m calling the police!”
The police wouldn’t be much comfort in a fight between a Hero and an archangel, but the threat proved surprisingly effective as Sariel removed his hands.
“No. She was… I can tell.”
The sadness that dripped from every word made even Suzuno, his victim, feel a twinge of pity. For a moment.
“This…the scent of my goddess…of the coffee brewed to perfection by a goddess’s hand…”
“Gross!!”
Emi’s one-word evaluation didn’t stop Sariel from sliding down to the ground.
“Ahh…she was a mere arm’s length away from me… If only I could turn back time…ahh…”
“Bell, what’s with this guy?”
“I cannot say. I cannot say, but at this rate, someone may very well call the authorities. Lord Sariel, please, could you stand up for me, at least?”
“…Ah. I am sorry. This has been all too shocking to me. My shopping trip will have to wait. Whenever I think about my goddess, nothing else can occupy my mind.”
Emi and Suzuno watched wordlessly as the chagrined Sariel wobbled back toward the apartment entrance. Checking up on his status and confirming his address was probably the most they could hope to accomplish tonight. They had other questions, but Sariel was clearly incapable of conversation as he checked his mail cubby.
“Number three-oh-two.”
With Emi nabbing that final piece of vital info, the pair decided to call it a night.
This was even worse than they expected. It’d be one thing if they were in a position to perhaps mend the bridges between Kisaki and Sariel. But Emi and Suzuno knew Kisaki only faintly. Nothing a couple of passing acquaintances could say would make her forgive Sariel, as Chiho put it.
Something had to be done, though. Otherwise, Sariel would cease to function as a defensive net, and any attacking demons would have a truck-sized hole to plow through on the way to their target.
Emi muttered to herself, out of earshot of Suzuno:
“…Why do I have to go through all this headache just to keep the Devil King safe?”
Just as Chiho changed clothes and began her shift, she noticed something was missing.
“Oh? Ms. Kisaki isn’t here today?” she asked one of the front-end crew.
“She’s out somewhere. Said she was on break. Maou’s handling upstairs right now.”
“Really? Wow. Wish I could go up there sometime.”
Maou seemed less than confident yesterday, but even Chiho wanted to try her hand at some new responsibilities sooner or later.
“Oh?” the crewman said, shaking his head and smiling. “Ever since I drank Ms. Kisaki’s coffee, I don’t think I have it in me to run second-floor duty. If someone complains that my stuff tastes different from hers, what am I supposed to do then?”
“Yeah, that might be true.”
Chiho laughed. She definitely wasn’t the only one with that concern. But:
“Ah-hem. Who’s complaining? They’d be providing vital feedback.”
Somewhere along the line, Kisaki came back. Her employee vest and hat were off, and she had a convenience-store bag in one hand and a shawl over her shoulders to prevent sunburn.
“Oh, welcome back. That was quick.”
“Hello, Ms. Kisaki. Did you go out somewhere?”
“Just a little errand. I’m sorry; I’m gonna have to hole up in the staff room for a little while. Are things going okay upstairs?”
“Yeah. I think Maou’s staying above water up there, anyway.”
Kisaki took a peek at an upstairs security-camera screen.
“Great…but I’m gonna have to get all of you working up there sooner or later. It’s gonna be tough to schedule you all otherwise.”
“Oh, hey, that reminds me—Maou mentioned something about some kinda MagCafé accreditation you can get?” Chiho asked.
“Accreditation?” The crewman sounded surprised by this.
Kisaki nodded casually. “Well, it’s not like you need it to work the café or anything. You get a neat little certificate if you take the course, though.”
“A certificate…? You mean like the one upstairs with your photo on it, Ms. Kisaki?”
“Yep. Those are meant for showing off in the dining area. That way customers will know if there’s a specialist on duty, sort of thing.”
Chiho never bothered taking a close look at Kisaki’s certificate. She had assumed it was just for showing who the current manager on duty was.
Kisaki handed the two of them a copy of the same printout she gave Maou earlier.
“MgRonald Barista… Is Maou taking this course?”
“Yep. He signed up for the very next one, in fact. You can join him, too, if you like.”
“Will that let me make coffee as good as yours, Kisaki?” asked Chiho matter-of-factly, as she perused the printout. Kisaki hesitated a moment before replying.
“You might…come just that bit closer, maybe.”
“Man,” the other crewman said in a disinterested tone. “Tough competition.” He might have seen Kisaki’s reply as her lording it over the staff, but after a moment of thought, Chiho nodded and turned her head upward.
“Could I take that workshop, maybe? It says here you need at least some work experience, but…”
“Well, as long as you have the manager sign for you, no problem. I can’t waive the course fee for you, since you don’t have management experience like Marko does, but if that’s all right with you…”
“That’s fine. It sounds kind of neat, actually.”
“Oh? Well, just fill out that application and give it to me tomorrow, okay? I should be able to put you in the same workshop with Marko if you do.”
“All right. Thanks very much.”
Chiho neatly folded the sheet, bounded for the staff room, and put it into the bag in her locker.
There was no subterfuge there. As a MgRonald crewmember, she really did want to brush up on her knowledge and technical skill. But there was one other motivation.
“…I wonder what Maou really thinks about all this.”
She wanted to get Maou’s take on current events—in a place with no Emi, no Ashiya, and no Japanese uninitiated to the existence of Ente Isla.
His reply to Chiho’s long-ago confession of love was still on the back burner, but she was at least convinced that her presence in Maou’s life was something he saw as a net positive. The evening she stayed over at Suzuno’s place, learning about how lost at sea Emi felt, she couldn’t help but wonder how Maou was grappling with it all.
Looking back, it never seemed like Maou saw Emi as much of an enemy at all. Not even at the very start. There was, of course, that whole past where he tried to destroy an entire world and remake it in his own image, but currently Maou was eking out a living in Japan and not demonstrating much in the way of violent, despotic behavior at all.
She could always go over to Devil’s Castle and ask to speak with Maou in private. Suzuno would almost certainly object, though.
With Emi starting to see Maou as something besides just an enemy, and with demons turning against Maou and starting wars in his native realm, and with Chiho attempting to learn a magic spell crafted on another world—with all these changes in his every
day life coming at him all at once, what did he think? She wanted to know that—and she wanted to hear it from his mouth. Alone.
Alone…?
“Is that like…like, a da—”
“Something bothering you?”
“Hyah!”
Chiho leaped at the voice, her mind righting itself from its momentary meandering. There, her eyes met Kisaki’s, as her manager sat at her desk, munching on a convenience-store sandwich.
“Well, you were kind of talking to yourself after you put that sheet in your bag. Don’t forget, you’re still on the clock.”
“Oh, um, was I spacing out that bad?” Chiho blushed, the embarrassment driving her to touch her head in assorted random spots.
“More than you usually do, anyway,” Kisaki chuckled as she took a sip from a plastic bottle of tea. “Is there an achievement test you have to take once summer break is over?”
“Huh? Why?” Chiho found the question puzzling.
“Oh, no, I just felt like something’s been bothering you lately. Pretty much ever since we opened up again, your face has been telling me that you’re up against a wall over something. Right now, even. When you smile, your eyebrows don’t even budge.”
Oops. She was trying not to let it show on her face, but having the oblivious Kisaki spot it so easily taught her all over again how futile the effort was.
“You’re easy to read like that, you know? I’m actually getting kind of frantic over something right now, too. I mean, I try to make sure that what I’m doing isn’t making me go down the wrong path, but…”
Kisaki tossed the remainder of her sandwich in to her mouth, then washed it down with a swig of tea.
“I hope you don’t mind a thirty-ish woman like me lecturing a teen like you about life, but lemme give you one word of advice. Don’t let fear keep you from taking action. A lot of things in life…unless it literally kills you, you’d be amazed how often you get a do-over with them.”
“You think so?”
“If you don’t take action, then maybe it won’t end in failure…but more important, it won’t start anything, either. If you do, whether you succeed or screw it up, something’s gonna change. And if you’re afraid of change, you’re gonna have a lot of trouble living in this world.”
The Devil Is a Part-Timer!, Vol. 6 Page 10
