The Devil Is a Part-Timer!, Vol. 14

by Satoshi Wagahara

  “Lemme see it… Ahh, this won’t work. The waist is too big around me.”

  “What size are you, Maou? I don’t really know how men’s sizes work.”

  A tag with “87” marked on it was sewn into the pleated chinos Chiho picked up first—87 centimeters, or about a size 34 in inches.

  “The pants I got on right now are a 76,” Maou replied, slapping the knee of his work pants. This would be a size 30 in imperial units. “It’s got some looseness to it, though, so I could probably freestyle a little size-wise with a belt.”

  To the Devil King’s Army, which put price above all other considerations, clothing and shoes weren’t something they bought custom-fit for their bodies. As long as the size was within shooting distance, they adjusted their own bodies to them.

  Maou proceeded to take a few pants off the shelf, then put them back…then take a few more off…then put them back again. This cycle repeated itself a few more times.

  “…Nothing.”

  “Nope…”

  His face grew sterner. In terms of sheer numbers, there were a ton of summer pants piled up, but—as you’d expect from closeout jobs like these—there was nothing in just the right size, or any very common size for that matter. The smallest one available was 73, and from there they shot straight up to 81, with the rest of them all in the mid-eighties.

  “Oh, Maou, this one’s a seventy-ni— Actually, let’s not go with this one.”

  “Yeah, that’s…you know.”

  What Chiho had picked up just by looking at the tag was a pair of cargo pants festooned with the flags of the world, like someone had tried to symbolize the United Nations in a pair of pants. It didn’t really work.

  “Hmm, maybe I could handle an 81 with a belt. Chi, can you find the one from before…and gimme this one, too? I’ll go try them on.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  Chiho handed over the other pleated pants, Maou grabbing another pair for himself and asking a salesperson to lead him to the changing room. “Let me know if you need anything, sir,” the employee said as he closed the door behind him.

  Standing there, leaning against the wall across from the door, Chiho couldn’t help but chuckle a little. This wasn’t exactly a thrilling trip out, but this was kind of turning into a date, wasn’t it?

  “Maybe we’ll do this again sometime, except with the places switched…”

  Chiho let her mind lazily run wild. She’d go into the changing room, having Maou evaluate whether she looked cute in whatever she picked. Even that seemed like a dream to her. Of course, given Maou’s current fragile emotional state, she couldn’t bask in the moment for too long, and Emi and the others were waiting back at the apartment anyway—but still, she started to wish this moment could last a little longer for her.

  “What d’you think of this, Chi?”

  “Y-yeah?”

  The door suddenly opened. Chiho reddened a bit before turning her face toward the changing room, as if shyly peeking at Maou.

  “Uhm…”

  She was at a loss. In a word, it looked lame. Those pleats were not happening—that much was firm in her mind. He was pairing it with a T-shirt, revealing a decent amount of his fairly lean body, but below that he appeared to be wearing a large kite around his waist, fabric billowing over his hips. The pants he walked in with were thin, but sized for a slim figure, which made these seem like the main sail of an old naval vessel by comparison.

  It made her promptly shake her head. “Let’s not go with that. How about the other one?”

  “It looks weird, huh?”

  “It’s weird, yeah. It doesn’t match your figure, and I don’t think it matches any of the clothing you have.”

  Chiho wasn’t intimately familiar with all of Maou’s wardrobe, but nothing she had seen on him before would work well with these pants.

  “All right. Gimme a second.”

  With a humble nod, he closed the door again. He didn’t even have it open before he spoke up once more.

  “Nah, this ain’t good.”

  Chiho could hear ruffling sounds for a moment or two as he returned to his original slacks and stepped back out.

  “There’s too much waist. Even with a belt, the front hook sags way down and it looks awful. Eighty-one’s too big for me.”

  “Oh. Well, in that case…”

  Chiho’s eyes turned toward a different shelf from before, as did Maou’s.

  “It’s gotta be that, huh? But, ooh, my budget…”

  She understood what he meant. They were both looking at the men’s jeans section, ready for the colder months and well stocked in a variety of colors and sizes. Being meant for fall and winter, however, also meant the prices were set a level higher.

  “Thirty-nine hundred and ninety yen,” Maou barely croaked out. “Oof, that price hurts…”

  On a five-thousand-yen budget, it would mean he’d walk away with just one pair of pants. This was five thousand yen he had all but squeezed from the proverbial stone. Ashiya was no monster; he wouldn’t demand Maou spend the winter with nothing covering his crotch. It wasn’t outside the realm of possibility to buy this pair, then negotiate a second one with him later—but spending the majority of his cash before attempting to reason with him wasn’t a good look to start with.

  “So what do you think…?”

  “Hmmmm…”

  Chiho, sensing the conflict in Maou’s mind without having to ask, found it difficult to push him toward any decision. It was a frustrating outcome, for sure.

  “Hello, I’m— Er, what are you people doing?”

  It was eight in the evening when Ashiya returned, only to find his master gone and Emi, Alas Ramus, Suzuno, and Urushihara in his place—a rather uncommon combination in Devil’s Castle. For a moment, he wondered if the Hero and her gang were occupying their domicile, Urushihara having helplessly surrendered to them.

  If so, he couldn’t be blamed. There were several dishes laid out on the low kotatsu, each wrapped in plastic and filled with food waiting to be microwaved and served. Emi and Suzuno were seated around it, eagerly awaiting the moment, and Urushihara was behind them on hands and knees, giving Alas Ramus a horseback ride.

  Ashiya put his heavy backpack on the floor and sighed. “Urushihara, what is the meaning of this? Where is His Demonic Highness?”

  “Wait, Alciel!” Emi stated. “Before that, I have to ask you something! Where have you been all this time? There’s been an emergency.”

  “Wh-what? An emergency?!” The sudden declaration put Ashiya in a confused frenzy. “I have just returned from an overnight temporary job. It was a lucrative one, referred to me by an acquaintance, so I left my domicile for a single day. Why must I shoulder the blame for whatever happened?”

  “Yeah, we knew that,” the fallen angel asked. “Can you at least say what kind of work it was, dude? Where were you?”

  Ashiya nodded back. “I hadn’t told you, had I? It was a medical trial.”

  “A medical… Whoa! Alciel?!” Now Emi was worked into a frenzy. “You mean they fed you new drugs or whatever for research and measured the results? Are you all right?!”

  “Oh, you are worried for my health now?”

  “Of course not. You didn’t tell them you’re a demon, did you? If their test results go all out of whack because of that, it’s gonna be your fault!”

  “I have faced no ill effects from utilizing human medication so far.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about!”

  Ashiya just shook his head as he opened his bag and took out a plastic file folder, tossing it at her.

  “What’s this?”

  “The medicine they were testing.”

  Emi lowered her eyebrows as she looked at the first sheet of paper in the folder.

  “…A ‘percutaneous anti-inflammatory topical pain reliever’?”

  “Yes. A product trial for an externally applied medication. The concept is for a light pain reliever you can apply for aches and pains sustain
ed during domestic work. A sort of liquid cold compress, you could say.”

  “Ah.” Suzuno nodded as she looked at the papers. “For aching shoulders and backs and the like? I have seen these advertised on television.”

  “Yes,” Ashiya explained. “Think of it as a sort of lighter dose of those treatments. It is not meant for intense pain; rather, to soften the kind of light fatigue and aching one might feel on a day-to-day basis.”

  Most of the product ads Suzuno referenced talked about how strong and instantly effective they were, giving the impression they would be too much for less serious pain. This led to the suggestion of a lighter treatment for lighter issues, and Ashiya had applied to the final clinical trial for it.

  “Whoa,” Urushihara muttered. “If all I’m doing is rubbing ointment on me, I can do that, I think…”

  “No you can’t,” Ashiya said, cutting him off. “I had to undergo a rigorous examination before they accepted me. You would be right out, Urushihara, and if you will pardon my rudeness, even my liege might have had trouble being accepted.”

  “Huh? How so?”

  “I told you, this is meant to be a light treatment for light pain. It is not targeted for athletes and other people working their bodies hard on a constant, daily basis. It is meant…for housewives.”

  The emphasis he placed on “housewives” confused Urushihara and Emi a little, but it was enough to convince Suzuno.

  “Hmm, yes, I see. So they are taking stronger medication developed for men and attempting to target it at women?”

  “Exactly. The testing period is rather tight, so they only accepted people capable of carrying out household chores at an advanced level. I was asked to perform a great variety of tasks. In the kitchen alone, there were five different motions related to handling a knife. In my case, the high scores I received in the infant-care section were the deciding factor for my acceptance.”

  ““Infant care…?””

  Emi’s and Suzuno’s eyes turned toward Alas Ramus. It went without saying that Ashiya was her primary caretaker while staying in Devil’s Castle. Following Chiho’s guidance, and occasionally receiving a helping hand from Suzuno, he was probably second only to Emi in taking care of the child, in terms of knowing how to deal with infants. With all the meals they now ate together, he was well versed in cooking for young children as well.

  “In addition to cooking and infant care, I also carried out cleaning, laundry, and most other household tasks that require physical labor. This, for six hours out of the day. To be honest, between cooking and cleaning, with the trial taking place in such a large room and the equipment all so new and shiny, I found it all rather simple. One of the elderly women who made it through the trial complimented me grandly about my work. ‘You don’t seem like a young man at all,’ as she put it.”

  There was a sense of pride to Ashiya’s words as he said them. It made Emi and Suzuno feel weary, for the first time in a while.

  “Alciel… Don’t you think you should start to question whether you’re a demon at all?”

  “Honestly, if you are capable of that much, then as a woman I may find myself growing envious.”

  Urushihara sighed a half-resigned, half-astonished sigh. “You never know what kinda talent’s gonna help you out, huh…?”

  “So, is it clear why I was gone now? And I should add that those documents are confidential. Tell anyone about them, and you shall pay dearly.”

  Emi and Suzuno felt like laughing. They had a few secrets they wouldn’t mind sharing with the world well before this one.

  “Now, can I ask why all of you are here? Where is my liege? Emilia, are you attempting to take over Devil’s Castle while His Demonic Highness is away?”

  “Why would I want to ‘take over’ a dump like this? I’d rather live in Bell’s apartment.”

  Emi pointed at the three pairs of jeans, left abandoned on the floor following the pointless arguing earlier.

  “Mm? Those are my liege’s street clothes, are they not? Why are all three of them out on the floor?”

  “Can’t you see? Thanks to those jeans, all of us, along with Chiho and Ms. Kisaki, just experienced one of the most awkward days of our lives.”

  “What?” Ashiya glared at them all as he took off his shoes and finally stepped away from the front door.

  “Hi, All-cell! Welcum back!”

  “…Yes. Thank you, Alas Ramus.”

  The heartfelt greeting loosened up Ashiya’s face a little. He was never shy about being hostile with Emi and Suzuno, but the simpleminded child was something he was far weaker against.

  “Be good on top of that pony of yours for a while longer, all right?”

  “Okeh!”

  “Ashiya, whaddaya mean ‘that pony’…?”

  It was actually not too uncommon for Alas Ramus to play with Urushihara in here. They had a surprisingly good rapport going, actually, not that he was ever rewarded for it.

  Ashiya knelt on the ground and picked up a pair of jeans.

  “Mm, what on…?”

  The holes were spotted quickly.

  “All three of them?”

  “Uh-huh,” Emi confirmed. “The Devil King walked around in public in those today.”

  “What?” Ashiya’s face soured.

  “I didn’t want to say it to his face, and I had no reason to anyway, but it just looked so pathetic to us. My arch-nemesis, running around with holes in his crotch—and now one of you has been assigned to be Alas Ramus’s pony for all time, which just makes me want to squirm, all right? Aren’t you supposed to be his Great Demon General? I know you run a tight budget, but aren’t you ashamed at all, making him wear all this frayed, falling-apart clothing?”

  “Mmm…”

  “Dude, since when am I Alas Ramus’s personal pony?”

  “B-but we bought two of these jeans from UniClo. I bought some for my own as well, at the time, but they are nothing like this…”

  “Yeah,” Alas Ramus’s personal pony replied. “It’s just Maou’s.”

  Ashiya raised an eyebrow. “So where is my liege, then?”

  “Once he found out, he practically started bawling. He ran right off to UniClo to buy a new pair.”

  “Mmmm…” He scowled in anguish.

  “You have to forgive him for it this time, Alciel. I feel simply awful for the Devil King. Chiho joined him on the journey. I am sure she will forbid him from purchasing anything too extravagant.”

  “No, no, I am confident there is no other solution to this, but… Hmm. You. The pony over there.”

  “I’m seriously gonna get angry soon, okay, man?”

  “Call our liege for me. Tell him that I will mend these jeans, so keep that in mind as he shops for a new pair.”

  “Why do I have to— Huh?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Wha…?”

  Just as Urushihara headed for his laptop, he and everyone else in the room picked up on Ashiya’s bizarre declaration.

  “You’ll…mend them? That…”

  “Yes,” Ashiya matter-of-factly stated. “Holes this large can be mended well enough without standing out.”

  The other three stared at him saucer-eyed as he opened a cabinet and took out a cardboard box.

  “Wait, is that…?”

  Much to Suzuno’s surprise, it was filled with a mishmash of needles and thread, forming a severely disorganized sewing kit. He had mentioned darning the holes in Maou’s socks with this and a burned-out lightbulb once, but having this sewing kit presented to her in real life made Suzuno feel dizzy.

  “For the fabric…I could use this, I think.”

  He then took out several pieces of blue fabric that were more or less the color of jeans.

  “W-wait a sec, Alciel,” Emi pleaded, still not fully recovered. “That’s not the same fabric, is it?”

  It was blue, yes, but the texture was a complete mismatch. It wasn’t even denim. Placing it where the holes were would make it stand out in ways unimaginable to
anyone in the room.

  “What are you talking about? I will apply this to an invisible section of the pants. It is not a problem.”

  “Invisible…? I know it’s between the legs, but if the fabric’s different, you’re gonna notice it.”

  “What?” There was a twinge of surprise to Ashiya’s voice as his eyes cycled between Emi and the jeans several times. “You fool. I am not going to simply slap this on top of the holes.”

  “Huh?”

  Ashiya then turned the jeans inside out and began cutting out a section of fabric from behind a rear pocket.

  “Wh-whoa!”

  “Using fabric from a non-prominent section of a well-worn item of clothing to mend holes is one of the most basic of techniques. The colors and so forth wear at roughly the same speed across the garment, so it will not look that unnatural when finished. To replace the cutout section, one needs to merely use a piece of fabric of similar thickness, so the clothing does not become too uncomfortable to wear… Hmm. This is the only blue thread I have. I cannot cut out a large portion.”

  His big hands were already deftly handling a needle and thread as he adjusted the size of the fabric piece. He didn’t need a threader, which was good, because his kit sure didn’t have one.

  “Similar thickness…? That?”

  “This cloth? You should know what this is…? Well, perhaps not. It was quite a while ago.”

  “Huh?”

  “This piece comes from the pants His Demonic Highness tore when achieving his demon form for the first time in Japan. You were there, were you not?”

  “What?” Emi shouted. “I-it’s from that?!”

  “That” was long before Suzuno began living in Japan, just a few days after Emi and Maou had encountered each other there, and even before Chiho knew the truth behind the two. Thanks to a scheme engineered by the then-hostile Urushihara, Maou, Emi, Chiho, and Ashiya were caught in a cave-in along an underground mall in Shinjuku. That marked the first time Maou existed in demon form on this planet, and the great demon Satan had sizing needs far different from Sadao Maou the human. The results ripped apart his clothes—clothes that, through the unusual generosity of Ashiya, hadn’t been bargain-basement castoffs for a change.