Eating Your Weight: Reaching an Accord

Marcille Dulce felt distinctly out of place as he walked through the suburban streets of Kuoh. He kept his eyes forward, but could easily sense the eyes on him every time he passed one of the town's inhabitants, like razors sliding down his back as they watched him and wondered after his business here.

Tall, pale, and with an intense face that he had been told would be effective at scaring children away from places they shouldn't be, the Exorcist understood their wariness. Of course, the wrapped sword strapped to his luggage certainly drew just as many eyes as his appearance.

Truthfully, Marcille barely noticed them. He walked with a solemn gait, his dark coat shifting with his movements as he made his way away from the urban sprawl and into an area that was much more residential. His senses were extended to their maximum, instincts honed by years of harsh training and battle keeping a keen eye out for anything that might be or of the ordinary. This place – Kuoh itself – was a well known entity within his organization, and not just as a holiday destination.

Marcille stepped around a young teen lost in thought and as he passed her, his hand whipped out toward a tiny piece of paper sticking out of her coat pocket, snatching it while leaving her none the wiser. The Exorcist unfolded the paper and frowned deeply at the magical sigil emblazoned arrogantly on the front. They weren't even trying to hide.

“I guess this is their territory. Still…” With a snap of his fingers and a careful pulse of magic, and the pamphlet flared like a match. He let it fall to the ground, continuing past it without a second glance.Kuoh was well known for being the seat of power for two extremely powerful Devil clans Under the current treaties, an exorcist of his caliber should have filed three different sets of paperwork before even stepping off the train. Should have.

Marcille chewed on his cheek as he turned into a quiet, residential street. Guilt weighed heavily on his shoulders but it was far overshadowed by his sense of duty. What he was doing was wrong, but leaving the issue alone would have been the same as betraying who he was at his core. And that wasn't something he was capable of doing.

Freed Sellzen.

The name raced through Marcille's mind like a burning needle and his jaw tightened so hard it shook. He was forced to halt his journey for a moment, pushing down the memories that the name evoked before continuing on his way.

He turned down a street with rows of houses, evenly spaced. As he did so, the atmosphere itself seemed to shift. The general buzz of everyday life didn't disappear completely, but it was suddenly muffled by something vast and powerful that seemed to seep into every crack of the street itself.

“She's gotten stronger,” he said to himself, clutching his luggage a little tighter. This sensation was familiar, draconic energy tinged with demonic magic, and he began to get excited despite himself.

He steeled himself. He wasn't here for that. Perhaps later, but for now, his business took priority.

He found the house looking for and approached the gate, his shoulders becoming stiffer with each step. This was going to be difficult. It always was.

He approached the gate. It was locked, but he bypassed their security with only the barest effort, leaping the wide-foot iron fence and stepping up to the door. He ignored his instincts flaring as the draconic presence grew even stronger and lifted his hand, knocking firmly on the heavy wooden door.

One second passed, then three, before the door suddenly swung open to reveal…

Marcille tensed as he locked eyes with the short woman and she with him. She looked unassuming, a delicate flower wearing a silk dress with a feather duster clutched in one hand like a weapon, but her presence stuck out to him like a sore thumb. It was almost buried under the aura lingering around the property, but the sickening mix of corrupted holy energy wafted off of her like a bad stench.

A Fallen Angel? Here? Marcille stared at her warily and she stared back with a mixed expression of annoyance and anger. She looked him up and down, eying his luggage and coat, before lingering on his pale face with narrowed eyes,

“I don't know what you're selling but we don't want any.”

Marcille blinked, surprise overtaking his wariness for a single moment. “I am not a salesman.”

“Oh, I'm so sorry,” the woman's eyes did a full circle in their sockets as she gripped the door tighter, “We don't want to join the church either so you can fuck off anyway, creep.”

She moved to slam the door in his face but a voice from further in the house stopped her, ”Mittelt! Who is it?”

The woman growler and glanced back into the house, “Why don't you come find out yourself!? I'm still trying to clean that stupid chandelier and this asshole interrupted me!”

“We need to get you a bigger stool.” Marcille straightened as a familiar figure appeared behind the Fallen Angel who stormed off in a huff. The girl laughed and turned to him, before blinking in surprise as she caught sight of him.

“Marcille?” Naomi’s mouth dropped open before a wide grin came to her face. “You asshole, why didn't you tell me you were coming?”

While Marcille was still confused about the Fallen's presence in her home, Naomi's friendly greeting brought a thin smile to his face. He held his hand out, gazing at her warmly as she took it. “This wasn't exactly a planned excursion. I was in Italy just yesterday so I didn't have time to call ahead.”

“That's a long trip,” Naomi hummed, glancing at his luggage, “Well come inside. Miyo said you might be coming by, but I don't think any of us expected it so soon. She's in the kitchen making lunch.”

~~~

I led the way into my house, my mind buzzing with questions. I figured I'd be seeing Marcille again soon given what Miyo said a few days ago, but I was thinking more along the lines of a few weeks instead of days.

Not that I was complaining. Marcille was cool and I was looking forward to crossing swords with him again and showing him how much better I'd gotten.

Though… I glanced back at him, taking in his four expression. Something was clearly bothering him. I barely knew the man and even I could see that. Hopefully Miyo would be able to help

I took him into the kitchen where a tray of freshly-made sandwiches was sitting on the table, stacked neatly atop one another. Mittelt, who had been following behind us silently, slumped into a chair and grabbed one, chewing aggressively as she glared at the table.

Marcille gave her a look and turned to me.

“Don't ask; It's a long story,” I said, preempting his question, “She's hanging around for a while, but she's not dangerous.”

Mittelt snorted, giving me a dirty look before grabbing another sandwich and disappearing down the hall. Miyo strode in right after her, eyes finding Marcille's instantly and frowning.

”You're early,” the woman said as she sat down. “Usually it takes a few weeks for the Church to authorize your team to mobilize.”

Marcille smiled humorously, “You'd be surprised how quickly the Bishops can come to a decision when I speak to them directly. Especially considering the circumstances and who we're dealing with.”

Miyo nodded, though I noticed her eyes didn't leave his, “He is dangerous, but I don't see why they would send only you. Where is the rest of your team?”

Marcille folded his hands. “They’re taking care of things with the local dioceses and handling the paperwork needed for a team like us to enter such sensitive territory. I’m scouting ahead. It’s easier for one man to track someone like him rather than a full squad, after all.”

”Scouting?” Miyo repeated, her eyes narrowing. Skepticism rolled off her in waves. “You don't usually scout alone in a city held by two Devil Pillars, much less looking for one of the most dangerous Exorcists to even abandon the Church.”

Marcille’s expression didn't change, but the air in the room seemed to drop a few degree. He leaned forward slightly, his dark eyes locked onto hers. “I have certain discretions.”

”Discretions that usually require a signature you don't seem to have,” Miyo countered, “Tell me, how did you get Father Truman to agree to an operation like this?”

I looked between them with worry. It felt like I was watching a game of chess where both players were hiding knives under the table. I didn't have the full context, but even I could tell Marcille wasn't telling her everything. And Miyo was picking up on every single omission.

”Drop it, Miyo,” Marcille said, his voice finally breaking out of the polite stoicism that had been plastering his every word. “You of all people are in no position to lecture me on protocol.”

I watched as M iyo flinched, her lips tightening into a thin line. The woman stared at him for a long moment and he stated back just a steadily. Finally, Miyo let out a slow, measured breath and leaned back, the aggressive edge to her posture softening into something more weary. “Very well. If this is the road you want to go down, then I won't stop you. However…”

Her expression shifted suddenly, something dark and deadly flashing behind her eyes, “If you decide you are of the mind to drag Lucia into this, that may very well change.”

The threat hung in the air like a burning torch, and Marcille couldn't possibly ignore it.

“I have no intention of involving her,” Marcille said, his tone even. “She has already suffered enough at his hands.”

“Yes,” Miyo agreed, “She has.”

Marcille stood, the heavy luggage at his side rattling as he gripped the handle. He looked at me, giving a small, stiff nod. “The purpose of my visit was to alert you if my presence and that has been done so I must leave to begin my hunt. I’ve secured an apartment not far from here so you’ll likely be seeing me.”

”I’m sure we will,” Miyo said tonelessly.

I walked him to the door. “Keep your head down, Marcille. This town is getting pretty damn crowded. No telling who's gonna pop up next.”

My remark earned a small, tired smile, “So it seems. It was good seeing you again, Naomi. Hopefully we can cross swords again soon.”

“I'd like that.” I smiled. With a final, sharp nod, he was gone, his tall form blending into the afternoon shadows and disappearing down the street.

I walked back into the kitchen. Miyo was staring at the empty chair he’d occupied, her finger tracing the edge of the table

“So that was something,” I said, leaning against the counter. “You think he's full of shit, don't you? About the scouting?"

“If he had a wooden nose, it would've have grown a foot the moment he opened his mouth.” Miyo sighed, rubbing her eyes. “Marcille has always been driven by his sense of duty but sometimes, that duty makes a man forget that protocol exists to keep him alive.”

I raised a brow, “You think he's going rogue?”

”I think he's rushing into a situation he isn't prepared to handle,” Miyo said, her voice laced with worry.

“Is this Freed guy really that bad?”

“Freed Selzen is a monster, Naomi.” Miyo's voice was angrier than I had ever heard it before, full of a venomous rage that left me tense even though it wasn't directed at me. “Even hell would be too good for the likes of him. His is the kind of soul that deserves nothing but hand-picked oblivion. Darkness everlasting.”

I balked a bit at her description. “Jesus…”

“Indeed,” And it said just as much about this guy that she didn't even correct my usage of the name.

“Marcille is chasing one of the worst people imaginable, and he’s doing it with a lot of weight on his shoulders.” Miyo said gravely, staring at the table. “I just hope he doesn't drag anyone else into the hole he's about to dig”

~~~

Later that day, the house felt quieter, though the atmosphere remained tense in the wake of Marcille's visit. Miyo was even more quiet than usual, clearly dwelling on Marcille's visit, and though I want really sure what the man was up to, even I could tell that something was going on.

I spent the afternoon finishing up a project for school in uncomfortable silence. Aika was home today, hosting family and unavailable for training or fun, and whenever Miyo wasn't working she was yelling at someone on the phone so she was a lost cause too. I wanted to comfort her, but I knew by now that when she was in this kind of mood, the last thing she wanted was someone talking to her. Even me.

In other words, my evening was lonely and boring. That night I decided to chill out with a nice, long bath. I spent maybe an hour in there soaking the stress away and when I emerged, body wrapped in a towel and steam clinging to my skin, the house was completely silent.

Or at least, until I came near the guest room and paused. The door was open just a crack, allowing light and the sound of frantic cursing to leak out into the hallway. I stared, listening to Mittelt's high voice argue with someone that I couldn't hear, my curiosity rising with every syllable. What was going on in there.

I peered through the crack. Mittelt was pacing her room like an animal, hands flying in every direction as she spoke to the air. She had finished her work for the day so she was out of uniform and wearing something much closer to what I had first met her in. The frills on her sleeves ruffled the air as she swung around to stalk the length of her room again, and I caught sight of a glowing ping magic circle pressed to her ear like a cell phone.

I leaned closer to the door, popping open just a little bit more so I could hear the conversation. Mittelt was angry, that much was clear from the look on her face, and her voice was a low, angry hiss.

“Don't talk to me about fucking protocol, Zariel!” she said, her voice trembling with anger. "Raynare's the one who you put in charge of the whole operation. We followed our orders! like we were supposed to! You can't just–"

She went silent, her face going still as she listened to whatever voice was coming from the other side. Her eyes went wide, then narrowed, before settling on an angry glare that probably could've burned a hole in the wall if she put some magic into it.

“Screw you then, you old bastard! Fuck you and fuck everyone else at that shitty organization! Abi in malam crucem!”

The sigil wavered and then burst into motes of light, and Mittelt screamed in frustration again, throwing her arms down as an angry cry escaped her throat. She looked like she was only a few seconds away from stomping her feet like a child, and I wondered what got her so riled up.

I pushed the door open the rest of the way. “Everything cool in here?”

She spun around, pink light forming into a crackling spear in her hand she glared at me murderously. She didn't look surprised to see me. “Does it look cool to you, human? Get out before I shove this up your ass!”

I didn't flinch at her hostile stare, raising an eyebrow as I pulled my towel up a bit, “This is literally my house.”

“Then maybe you should leave while it still is!” She snapped, the light spear in her hand growing by half in a single instant. It crackled with holy magic and was definitely unstable. I guess she was madder than I thought.

Despite the urge to make fun of her for her nonsensical threat, I knew it was probably best not to push too far if I didn't want a new hole in my wall so I decided not to press the issue. I glanced at her spear and then to her angey face, before shrugging and stepping out.

As I continued towards my room, I could hear her scream again behind me and shook my head. Must've been some really bad news.

Over the next few days, Mittelt's mood didn't improve in the slightest. I thought she had been somewhat coming around to the idea of being a maid or at the very least, that she was learning to put up with it. Now it was like we were back to square one. Hell, we might as well have dipped into the negatives.

The Fallen became an angry shadow in the house, a dark cloud that drifted from room to room. She was short with me, ignored Miyo entirely, and spent most of her time staring out the windows as if she was imagining being anywhere but here.

The only people she seemed to tolerate, weirdly enough, were my parents. Sometimes I'd come home from school to find her sitting at the table helping my mom fold laundry or outside helping my dad bring in groceries. She didn't mouth off to them, didn't even complain when they asked her to do something. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she actually liked them which was… good? I honestly wasn't sure how to feel about it, but it wasn't harmful so I decided to leave it alone.

Still, even with that silver lining, there was still something brewing under Mittelt's skin. And the woman lasted until Thursday until it bubbled out and spilled over.

I was in the living room, working on my homework like a good student, when I heard a massive crash from the hallway. It sounded heavy and more importantly, expensive, so I stopped what I was doing and ran over, only to find Mittelt standing in the center of the hall, surrounded by shards of glass.

My heart sank. A heavy, ornate picture frame containing pictures of my grandparents had been knocked to the floor, shattered frame spilling out into the carpet. My eyes slowly rose to stare at the deep hole that had been left in the wall beside where it once hung, before turning to the woman standing beside the wreckage

Mittelt was staring at the shattered picture, one hand clenched into a fist and the other limp by her side. She had a weird look on her face as she stared blankly at the frame, and I got the impression that she didn't actually intend this outcome.

As if it really mattered.

“Alright, that's enough,” I said, my voice firm as I stepped up to her. “I don't mind you being in a pissy mood, but if you're gonna start throwing tantrums and breaking shit in my house, then I'm throwing your ass out on the street.”

Mittelt’s head snapped up, a flicker of fear masked by anger flashing across her face before she managed to hide it. She clenched her other fist, turning away from her shattered picture frame, “I’m a Fallen Angel. I don't throw tantrums, you lowly human.”

Her words lacked their usual bite, and I found myself raising an eyebrow even as I crossed my arms in disbelief, “Really? If that's the case then I gotta ask what that wall said to you to justify putting your fist through it.”

Mittelt flinched, looking to the wall with a surprising amount of guilt. “I… I didn't mean to do that.”

Her voice was small, uncertain. It was a far cry from the arrogant, egotistical beat I had come to know over the past few days. It was also rather alarming, all things considered, and my anger slowly gave way to curiosity tinged with a small amount of concern.

“So… mind telling me what's going on?”

She glared at me, the anger in her eyes returning in an instant, “Why do you care?”

“You mean besides the fact that you just busted a hole in my wall for seemingly no reason?” I asked rhetorically, “Mostly because there's a non-zero chance that the blood I gave you is fucking with your hormones and if that's the case, it's probably better to know sooner rather than later.”

“It can do that?” Mittelt looked down at herself with alarm, then back to me. I shrugged.

“I mean, probably? I gave you a concentrated shot of my magic and I know from experience that shit is pretty damn hard to control. I can't imagine you'd have it any easier than I did considering it's mine. At least until your body acclimated and absorbs it like Aika's did.”

Though honestly, considering how different the… injection method was between the two of them, it was entirely possible I had that completely wrong. Mittelt wasn't experiencing any orgasmic spasms, at least as far as I could tell

Mittelt stared down at her hands, a strange look of realization dawning in her eyes, before she turned away.

“It's not that. I'm handling your disgusting magic just fine.” She scoffed.

“Then what is it?” I pressed, “I kind of need an explanation for this if you want me to justify telling my mom that I did it. She likes you, but not that much.”

Mittle looked at the broken wall, then at me. She opened her mouth to snap another insult, but then the fire seemed to go out of her all at once. She slumped against the opposite wall.

“I'll talk,” she said, her eyes dull. “But not now. Not here. Later tonight. Just... leave me alone for a few more hours.”

I studied her for a long moment, then nodded. “Fine. But you’re cleaning up the glass. And you're buying a new frame.”

“What!?” Mittelt stared at me, “But you don't pay me!”

“Figure it out.”

~~~

As night fell over Kuoh, I found myself in my room, the blue light of my computer screen the only illumination as I went through the motions of closing out my tabs for the night. I was just about finished, when a soft click at the door made me turn.

Mittelt stepped inside. She had changed out of her lace dress into an oversized T-shirt… and seemingly nothing else. I blinked as I recognized the stupid little dog on the chest. It had a big, cartoonish eyes on it and said 'Paws-itively Awesome!' in big text underneath.

It was a gag gift, sue me.

“...is that my shirt?” I asked, pointing at the dorky design on the front.

She looked down at it and shrugged, “Not anymore.”

I watched with bemusement as she stepped inside, locking the door behind her, before striding over to my bed and plopping down like it belonged to her. I was forced to sit in my computer chair and watched as she sat cross-legged, draping the edge of the shirt over her knees in a move that I suspected was to keep me from peeking at whatever she had under there which, in any other circumstance, would have been a good move, but this was a serious so I was gonna at least try to keep my usual pervy tendencies to a minimum.

“I half-expected you to ditch me,” I said after a long moment of silence.

Mittelt didn’t snap back. She didn't even look up. She just sat there in my oversized shirt, staring at the floor. “You wanted to know what's going on, right?”

”Start from the beginning,” I said. “I honestly don't know a damn thing about what's going on so you should probably fill me in.”

“Alright.,” Mittelt’s grip on her knees tightened until her knuckles turned white. “Well first of all, we – all of us, I mean – were never sent here to kill anyone. The Grigori sent us here as observers. We were meant to keep an eye on the pervert. Uhh…”

"Issei," I promoted.

”Yeah. Him,” she spat, though the venom lacked its usual punch. “The higher-ups wanted to watch him in case he did something stupid. We didn't get it at the time, and Raynare was pissed off that we were being forced to play babysitter for some idiot.

Mittelt let out a sharp breath. “She told us the orders changed. She said the higher-ups decided the pervert was too dangerous to let live. She told us to take him out, and she told us to take you out, too! We didn't think anything of it; plans switch up all the time. A wait-and-see job turning into a hit isn't the weirdest thing I've seen.”

I frowned, thinking back to that night. “So you were just following orders you thought were legit.”

”Exactly. And when we failed, fhat should have been the end of it. We should have gone back to headquarters with our cover blown and deal with whatever punishment they had for us. But Raynare didn't stop. She told us we had a new mission: capture the Twilight Healing gear."

”Asia,” I said, remembering the blonde girl who had joined Rias's peerage out of nowhere.

Mittelt nodded, shrinking in on herself. “I should have known something was up. Asia showed up so quickly after the order came in that I thought it had to be on the up and up. The Grigori have always been obsessed with Sacred Gears, and Twilight Healing is one of the best healing artifacts out there. It made sense that they wanted it.”

“And that's when Rias got involved.”

“That's when things went to hell,” Mittelt corrected. “That call you eavesdropped on was me getting fucked. Raynare was a backstabbing traitor the whole time. The only mission we ever actually had was to watch the pervert. Everything after that was done on the orders of some bastard named Kokabiel.”

She looked up at me, her eyes bloodshot with anger. “And because I was part of Raynare's cell, I've been branded a traitor too! Zariel an idiot for following Raynare and refused to send someone to come get me. I've been exiled, and now I'm officially a stray. If another cell finds me, they won't even give me a trial. They’ll just clip my wings and leave me to rot."

I leaned back in my chair as the weight of her story settling over me, watching as Mittelt huddled into a small bundle on the bed

“I’m strong, but I'm not the strongest by a long shot. But that doesn't really mean anything when you have a cell watching your back. Now I have nobody and nowhere to go. I'm easy pickings.”

I stared at her, really taking in her fragile disposition. The Mittelt I knew was annoying, arrogant, and borderline narcissistic, but right now I didn't see any of that. This was just a woman who'd been fucked over by people she thought had her back and left to fend for herself.

And I was partially – well, mostly – responsible for it.

I let out a heavy sigh. I really should have just left her in that alley.

”You aren't alone,” I said, my voice firmer than I expected.

Mittelt blinked, looking up in surprise. “What?”

”I told you the rules when I brought you here,” I said, crossing my arms. “You pull your weight, don't blow our cover, and don't mess with the people I love. That still stands. I don't give a damn about Zariel or Kokabiel. As long as you’re under this roof, you’re part of the household.”

Mittelt stared at me, her mouth slightly agape. I could tell she was waiting for the catch.

”You're... you're serious?”She asked, disbelieving, “Even after everything I just told you, you'll let me stay here?”

”Fix the wall, buy a new frame, and keep doing the laundry,” I shrugged. “Then we're even.”

She stared at me with an unreadable expression before she slowly leaned forward.

“Do you want to fuck me?”

The question was so blunt that I couldn't help it. I burst out laughing, the sound echoing in the quiet room and causing Mittelt's face to turn a vibrant shade of red.

”Holy shit!” I wheezed, “I thought Aika was blunt but damn girl, just come out and offer!”

Mittelt glared at me. “Hey! It’s a legitimate question! Usually, when humans offer their protection to a woman like me, there’s a catch! I’m just trying to be proactive, you freak!”

“Consent isn't optional in this house.” I said as I cought my breath. I have her a lopsided smile, “I'm not gonna extort you, but if you wanna come and seek me out to have a little fun, I'm not gonna say no. I know you enjoyed the show we put on earlier.”

Mittelt huffed, turning her head away from me. “You’re nowhere near up to my standards, human.”

“If you say so,” I said, remembering how ‘up’ to her standards I had been when she was watching me fuck Aika.

She scowled and stood, stomping towards the door. I expected that to be the end of it, for her to leave and go back to being the same Mittelt that I came to know since I brought her back from the brink of death, but she surprised me by stopping at the door. She reached towards the handle, trembling slightly, before turning around.

“Thank you,” she whispered, making me blink. I opened my mouth to accept her gratitude, but she cut me off, “And for the record? You’re never getting this shirt back.”

She opened the door and stepped out before I could respond, leaving me staring at the wood with perplexed amusement.