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It wasn’t an understatement by any means of the word to say that Iruma was the highlight of the misfit class.
Iruma was kind, selfless by nature. He didn’t need to be rewarded. He liked talking to people, being around people. He was bright and joyful. Iruma was strong, and fearless. He was unphased by the most intense of situations, yes still so naive to the most mundane daily experiences. There was truly no one like him.
He didn’t just act differently, he looked it too. Vibrant blue hair that practically had a halo of a glow around it. It curled upwards to a soft point, bouncing while he walked.
Strangely, he had clubbed ears, missing the distinct demonic point. Iruma was hornless and tailless, but no mind, so was Asmodeus. He had pale olive skin that had an opaline shimmer to it. His eyes too were unique. “Monolidded,” he told Asmodeus. They were perfectly shaped to his face. Asmodeus thought he could get lost looking into them if he awed for too long, but he couldn’t help himself.
Asmodeus was vaguely aware of the fact Iruma had probably been born somewhere far, far away from his home. But he’s sure wherever he was from, all the other demons still couldn't be half as ethereal as he was.
Asmodeus could not have asked for a better master. Iruma respected him. Iruma enjoyed spending time with him. Iruma loved him, called him his soulmate. Sure, Valac was an added bonus, but she wasn’t special in the same way that iruma was.
There was an air of mystery around him. He didn’t have a surname. He didn't fly - for what reason, he never explicitly told Asmodeus. For Devi’s sake, he basically spawned out of nowhere as Lord Sullivan's grandson!
Well, Asmodeus supposes it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t take away from any of the daily feats his master pulled off. Not just any demon could eat a royal banquets worth of food in one sitting. Iruma could, even though sometimes it was a little bit intimidating to watch.
It wasn’t just the everyday tasks like eating he excelled at too. He’s saved the skin on Asmodeus’ back more than once, made their home room teacher his familiar, and invented ‘fireworks’, beautiful bursts of light that shot up into the sky, while simultaneously saving the school from being blown up - just to name a few.
Fireworks were actually quite fitting for Iruma. They’re both eye-catching, stunning and kind of caught you off guard.
Asmodeus was eternally grateful to be considered the demons’ right-hand man. He went wherever Iruma did. It was a great source of honour for him, he could never stop himself from gushing about the other when he wasn’t around.
In fact, even in his free time, Asmodeus spent that which he wasn’t spending with Iruma by occupying himself with the boy. He had actually improved at art a lot over the past year because of this. Asmodeus wasn’t a particularly great artist, but of course he had to be whenever it came to his beloved master Iruma!
His walls were covered in photographs that could never quite properly capture the essence that his Iruma had in real life, but they had to do. Asmodeus isn’t sure if he can handle making another scrap book after he burned the last 32. The perfectionist in him just couldn’t make it good enough. He just kept starting over and over. He saved all of the pictures of Iruma though, don’t worry.
It bothered Asmodeus a little bit that Iruma wasn’t on his phone a lot. That wasn’t really Iruma’s fault, he was a busy demon! Still, it sucked to rush over at the sound of every notification only for it not to be his muse.
Sure, he still saw him at school all the time, but Asmodeus wishes he could be closer. It seems like every demon wants a piece of Iruma, a thought that leaves him quietly seething. It wasn’t Iruma's fault he was so beloved!- Asmodeus just wished he could have him all to himself. Instead, he waits out the perpetual weekend, until school again where he can see his master.
Hm, maybe thinking of it, it was strange that Iruma wasn’t really allowed out places. Never without a guardian. Almost certainly never with just Asmodeus. Sure, it was clear to him that Iruma had been sheltered all his life, but.. really?
Iruma’s big-headed Grandpa really could never pick a lane and stick with it. I mean, he’s never uttered a word about Iruma’s parents - whoever they are. Hell, he never uttered a word about Iruma until the Babylus entrance ceremony! That guy seriously gave Asmodeus the creeps. Talking with him always felt like he knew more than he was letting on. It seems impossible that a shady guy like that could have such a faultless grandson like Iruma.
Asmodeus quietly thanked Derkila that Iruma didn’t take after his relative.
It’s a shame really, to be cooped up all weekend with a coddling guardian. Asmodeus had one of his own.. ugh… he knew how exhausting it was..
Asmodeus ought to have some harsh words with Lord Sullivan! ..or maybe some polite conversation with Opera that could be passed on to the Lord about letting Iruma have some room to breathe once and a while - It definitely didn’t come from a place of greed on his part!
Asmodeus thinks fondly to himself about all of Iruma's antics. Seriously, the boy got himself into so much trouble you’d think he didn’t have the ability to say no! Devi, last week he volunteered, like, actually volunteered to clean out all of the school's trash cans after hearing the staff complain about the workload. Sometimes it’s like he’s an angel sent down to the netherworld.
Iruma was just so- Iruma. There wasn’t a ‘best’ word to describe him with. He was agile, he was heroic, he was charming, he was otherworldly-
Huh.
Otherworldly. Asmodeus supposed that word was the best possible one to suit the demon.
Otherworldly. Iruma didn’t suit the Netherworld. It suited him.
Maybe Asmodeus would have to think about this more..
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Back at the Sullivan mansion, a certain young human boy struggles to eat his dinner with his grandfather as he is continuously interrupted by sneezes.
“Someone must be thinking about you, my dear boy!” A vaguely egg-shaped demon teases