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In the instinctual way every demon knew their way back to the hide and heard the call from the king, wherever they were, Yejun also knew what this meant. Almost stumbling to his knees as he coughed blood in the middle of the city, uncaring of the concerned looks surrounding him, the agonizing seconds when Yejun lost the grip of his senses were something that he would remember vividly. His core desperately held on, but the punishment would never relent, severing it with merciless force until all that was left was a thin thread connection that could snap easily.
He had been banished from Abyss.
The reflection in front of him showed a completely different look from this morning when he walked to the nearest cafe for a cup of coffee. To be able to power through his walk from wherever street he was to this public restroom without vomiting on someone’s shoes was already worth applause. His eyes were bloodshot red, pupils shifting between sharp slits to large moons, and a pale gauntness overtook the vibrant flush of his face. Yejun couldn’t even muster up the energy to do a partial transformation, like a newborn who knew nothing of their own instinct and self.
This was another consequence: the thinner the connection was, the less Yejun could maintain his corporeal form until everything inside turned mushy, eating away at each other like maggots until not even his core was left.
“They caught up to you now.” Yejun stared at his reflection blankly before turning the faucet to wash away the blood on the sink. The cold splash to his face didn’t change his appearance, still sickly-looking, but at least Yejun didn’t feel that dreary.
The banishment didn’t bother Yejun much. He had little to no love for the Down Realm, no attachment toward fellow demons or the king. To say he hated the realm would be unfitting since Yejun had always considered it as a place he could go back to anytime due to their homing instinct, but nothing more. Though centuries had passed since the day he cautiously played around under his own rule, Yejun had been living his life in Bhūmi to the fullest, knowing full well that banishment was bound to happen.
Yejun was prepared for it, taking it with an attitude of que sera, sera, whatever will be, will be. What he didn’t prepare for was the strong reluctance to disappear like this and the stubbornness to cling to life. He didn’t want to go out like a candle in the wind, vanquished from existence, but wanted it to be like a supernova, mesmerizing and complete. Considering his banishment, it was quite a selfish demand from someone who had expected the consequence and left without any choices.
Banishment from Abyss was divided into two types: intuitive banishment and by-design banishment. The latter was a prerogative of the Court to punish traitors, such as a decades-old case, when there was an attempt to weaken the king’s core and take it by force. Stripped of power and connection to the hive, the demon was a fair game to any realm without any protection or power to defend themselves. Depending on the tribunal, their exile might have ended before their core shattered, and there was a chance to live on.
Every living demon wanted to avoid a by-design banishment, but they avoided and feared the former one. Intuitive banishment was a conduct of the Down Realm itself, absolute without any concession. The shame couldn’t even be compared to by-design banishment because something was inherently wrong inside you as a demon that the realm rejected your presence. It struck you when you least expected it, and you never really knew the whims of the realm. Though given that there was any trace left, banished demons could reestablish and strengthen the connection of their core to the hive. What it took (sacrificed) and how long it would take were other matters.
Yejun was doomed with intuitive banishment. His banishment was a rare case of the inability to sustain his own life force down in the realm, the fire of his core slowly fading, leaving only embers that could be snuffed out at any moment. He was, simply put, not treacherous enough to belong in the Down Realm. Demons’ existence was tied to the sins they consumed; they could commit dirty deeds themselves, but the tastiest and fulfilling sins were the ones they tempted out of humans. An egotistical whisper to start a destructive conflict between arrogant leaders, a lustful touch to adultery that shamed a respected family, a sickening insecurity imbued in greedy thoughts that never feel fulfilled, there were many facades to what can drive humans to sin. The longer a demon could poison their heart and mind, the more exquisite the sins they consumed.
Yejun was no longer interested in any of it, of racking up points and competing with other demons on who could play humans the worst way. He had always been an outlier among demons; he talked not to the beasts but heavenly animals, deep ocean blue enveloping his core as opposed to pitch red and black fire like most demons, he could hurt but had no inclination to do so. Some time during his younger days, those characteristics had sent him into a spiral of an identity crisis that drove him almost mad. It was during those days that his core had been the brightest, fed by the humans he distorted and sins collected like a testament to his existence.
Time didn’t matter much to demons who could live for centuries. They didn’t count it as years, months, or days, but from their ruling king’s name or human civilizations. The brightest his core ever was, and Yejun counted days, seconds. He couldn’t savor the taste of sins, pinched his nose shut at the sharpness of it, the longest he ever felt wasting his life. He remembered one time, after consuming the sin of ungrateful gluttony from a man, an overwhelming repulsion came over him and churned his stomach until it burned his throat. That was the day Yejun decided that he was done with it and decided to stop it altogether.
He loved living life in disguise on Bhūmi and going through it peacefully without sins and temptation haunting his steps. He was the master of his own fate and unbowed to his instinct. It had worked well for him, but not anymore. The loophole he had unexpectedly discovered to escape the scrutiny of the sins he should be collecting was somehow broken in pieces, and the punishment was swift with the breaking connection and the draining of his life force.
The world didn’t concern itself with Yejun. Though it seemed like he had a pleasurable time watching people passing from the large window of the bistro, Yejun was anything but that inside. To be able to stay in Bhūmi without shifting suddenly to his demon form due to the fluctuating core energy, Yejun must do something to feed his core first. Ever since he decided to settle here, Yejun had always played as the average lowkey neighbour act, which meant he wouldn’t be able to do anything drastic that could tempt others to act out heavy sins (not like he wanted to anyway).
Yejun truly didn’t want to bring any harm to humans if he could. From one plan to another, Yejun was seriously considering the idea of charming the teenage girl he occasionally saw in his apartment; the young lady with quite an explosive temper and always spotted with long acrylic nails that could be a weapon of their own. Maybe he could put a curse on her so every time she bought something that needed coins, they would fall, and she would spend time picking them up until she got angry, cursed like a sailor, at the dogs and cats, at the unsuspecting mailman, at the world. The only drawback was that no one used cash anymore, it’s all easy tap and barcode, so the plan was impossible to accomplish in the first place.
Just as Yejun looked up suggestions on his phone, a loud laughter snatched his attention, and Yejun almost stood up in his excitement, letting out a painful grunt when his knees bumped against the bistro’s table. Ignoring his spilling French fries, Yejun locked in to the source of laughter, a man sitting at the bar. His current position allowed him to see the side profile of the man speaking to the waitress with a curl on his lips before lifting his glass of infused water like a cheer. This was it, Yejun’s golden ticket; his glee was so palpable that he couldn’t stop his shuffling feet, might as well leave a dusty trace on the floor.
Yejun could never mistake the presence of an angel. Even his appearance was the stereotypical characteristics of an Other Realm angel, with his shiny, flowy, light hair and an almost out-of-the-world smile. This kind of beauty didn’t belong in the Abyss, untouchable and refined, because no matter how sinful a pleasure demon was, it couldn’t completely hide the imperfection of demons, fallen from their grace. His senses might be duller now due to his condition, but if Yejun squinted his eyes, he could almost see the white aura radiating around the man. It wouldn’t be weird to imagine majestic wings curling protectively against the stranger’s back. Yejun was sure of this, sure in the way a demon’s skin prickled at the presence of an angel even miles away.
And who said there was no benefit to intuitive banishment? Though being in his state put him in a vulnerable state and more receptive to pain, Yejun was completely fine now, fit as a fiddle even, despite the chance encounter with the Other Realm angel. He had firsthand experience of being singed by heavenly light, not even burned, and it hurt in a way that could drive demons to the point of tears. Whether the angel was lowly ranked or he didn’t feel an immediate threat from Yejun, it worked well for him.
Another way to maintain demons’ life force was to consume the light of an angel. Not the pure heavenly light, that would kill even the toughest demons, but tainted light. They needed to twist the pureness of it, corrupt it into something darker through temptations and wrongdoings. Demons didn’t need to kill angels, no, because dead angels would be the same as cadavers, and the light would be useless with them dead. After consuming the light, they had to let the angels live with paranoia hanging on their shoulders, savoring the revulsion from having a demon brutalize their light in any way a demon wanted. It would bring an euphoria incomparable to any pleasures that demons seek in any realm.
The sins collected from humans were inferior to a sip of heavenly light. The only reason why demons preferred to run amok in Bhūmi was that angels were a tough crowd; a higher chance for a demon to snap into dust attempting to touch the light, unless they were strong enough to withstand the force. Yejun was none of that, but he was desperate, in a dead or alive situation, might have lived for another two months before he bode farewell to the world, and it all boiled down to the fact that Yejun was as selfish as any other demon and didn’t want to let go of the thing that pleasured him greatly, even after having it for centuries.
Twisting an angel to insanity and the whole brutalizing shebang, though, Yejun wasn’t a big fan of it. He wouldn’t go that far. The rule never said anything about taking it by force, so he could manipulate the angel into granting him the light, steal a sip or two when he did a miracle for humans that needed it. Manipulation and stealing counted as sins, so it might be double the effect that Yejun hoped for. With his unassuming appearance and dimming life force, the angel wouldn’t even realize his true nature as a demon. He was scheming against the angel on his own seat, and the angel was cutting through his custard pudding without any glance back to Yejun. Not good enough? His core was still safe and sound, free from any swift strike from a Sword of Justice belonging to the Other Realm to this counting second. That meant something.
“Quite a blessing for someone like me,” Yejun mumbled to himself, then laughed foolishly at his own sentence. A demon using the word ‘blessing’ as he planned to seduce an angel to give him his energy, you truly couldn’t make this up.
Sipping his iced coffee until the straw hit nothing but the empty cup filled with melted ice, Yejun rose from his seat. Excitement and nervousness all mixed into one loud thumping sound that filled his hearing; not the first time he flirted around, yet it was also his first with intention, toward an angel to boot. If he failed the first time, then he would make another incidental appearance and try the second time. Now that he had an angel in his radar, Yejun wouldn’t let go even if something dragged him away, screaming and scratching.
The angel looked even more otherworldly (he was one, obviously) up close, and his core was set ablaze the way it was during its brightest years. Look at that, the coldness emitted from those azure eyes and hard line on his lips when he swept his gaze at Yejun, definitely, certainly, an angel, with their innate superiority on par with a demon. For a second, a warning alarm shot through his head before it died out abruptly, the desperate part of him killing the cowardice that second-guessed the decision to approach the angel in plain sight without several backup plans, something very unlikely for Yejun.
You didn’t have much choice in the first place, did you, 𖤍𖤍𖤍?
Unconsciously wetting his lips, Yejun cleared his throat to catch the attention of the angel. He regretted not applying his favorite lip balm before this, hyperconscious of the lack of sticky moisture, as the angel turned to face him. With a reminder to stay his ground, Yejun greeted the angel.
Time was a foreign concept for them. Humans counted seconds, minutes, hours, days, and years, then grouped them under decades, centuries. Their perception of time went beyond that; their remembrances were darkness and then light, one, two, and three, wars that reshaped realms as they knew them and built them into something new, wise mortal kings that had long passed. His life was still considered short for his kind, even though by human standards, he was exceptional. To stay where he was during a period of time where peace was abundant, time moved incredibly slowly for him, who had a long life ahead.
It wasn’t the first time Noah ventured down to the dwelling of mortals. He had come by enough to have his regular haunts, had seen his favorite spots go out of business and looked for another one, but Noah rarely stayed for long. Home was always the best place for him to lie around and do nothing, but in such a peaceful time, Paradiso became increasingly and painfully uninteresting that Noah was sick of the lack of nothing. Although not all (Noah knew a genuine angel who was pretty much on a name basis with almost every angel in Paradiso), angels could be quite stuck-up that which could be tiring to interact with. Noah got it, many angels tended to take the ideal image of being beautiful and graceful to their hearts, but there was a fine line between holding on to the ideals and downright annoying you with self-entitlement.
Since there wasn’t any responsibility keeping him in place, Noah figured he could go on a vacation on Earth. He had high hopes for a longer stay because it meant plenty of things to keep him entertained; if the stay wasn’t as long as he expected, he hoped he still had a good time. But almost half a month into his vacation, things had been a tad… too peaceful. The only thing keeping him on Earth was working out in the gym, where he occasionally blessed his favorite mortal bodybuilder a healthy life and a great day ahead for each gain. Noah wasn’t willing to give up so easily though, he hadn’t found his routine and hadn’t explored as much as he needed. Most importantly, he was stubborn, perhaps one of the most stubborn angels in Paradiso.
Noah would make sure that he made it to the six-month mark before leaving if things remained the same.
There was a result to this tenancy when he discovered another reason to stay, in this homely bistro with an ambiance that suited Noah perfectly. It wasn’t too noisy with music drowning out any conversation, while the interior design and retro decorations were period-appropriate, so this quaint spot felt like a breakaway from the busy and boring city life. The food and people working behind the counter were wonderful. Such a positive place attracted positive people, and they provided Noah with a pleasant interaction that left him buzzing for days. His face became a regular occurrence for the waiters and waitresses on every weekend, receiving a glass of infused water without Noah flagging them down for it.
Another thing Noah greatly enjoyed from the bistro was the custard pudding. Soft and gentle on the tongue, with sweetness that lingered to taste but never too much, tempting Noah for another scoop until he cleaned the entire plate down. Angels didn’t need to eat much; their bodies could sustain for days without proper meals, and Noah had abused that fact by skipping way more meals to do things he wanted to do. Only after visiting this bistro was Noah more inclined to eat more meals; though his taste remained conservative with the minimal effort to try out new things.
He noticed it when he cut through the custard pudding, the heavy prickling stare unlike that of a human. As long as a problem didn’t come head-on to him, Noah was quite lenient to let it be, noting how the stare lacked any hostility or rage belonging to demons or spirits. It was when he was savoring the scoop of softness that someone walked inside his perimeter, and Noah knew right away the identity of the stranger. He could ignore it when the man called for his attention, but it was a tad too peaceful, and Noah wouldn’t want to see this bistro packing and closing down with this nuisance, so with indifference, Noah granted the attention the man had been asking for.
A sweep of his eyes confirmed it for him. The sharply-dressed guy in front of him was a demon, albeit too weak-looking as if the winter wind could blow him away.
Through a volatile yet effective treaty made by Paradiso and Abaddon, peace had been maintained for thousands of years. The foundation of the treaty was finding balance in their purposes; demons could sow sins inside humans and feed from them, and angels could swoop in should the demons step over the limitations written in the treaty. Though some angels and demons alike had been playing around the treaty with the loopholes they discovered, on the surface, they were able to keep each other from being nosy with each other’s business, and that was enough.
Noah didn’t think much about the whole feud of angels and demons, sometimes finding the animosity funny since it felt more theatrical than the actual dynamic they had currently. It didn’t mean he thought it to be a lie, Noah was familiar with demons, more so than any average angel, to have opinions of his own. His rank wasn’t for show, it was proven. He climbed to the top with gritted teeth and ripped nails, sent judgment to vicious demons and crushed their cores with heavenly flame; unrelenting and fearless to anything that came to harm him. He could spot a demon from miles away at a glance with how in tune he was with their kind.
With the treaty in place and assurance of his power, Noah had been hiding his heavenly light since he came to Earth; on vacation, remember? Unless for blessing miracles where his light appeared, Noah rarely used his heavenly power. Even hidden so tightly, some intuitive demons didn’t dare to approach Noah, their presence felt the rain of swords stabbing them like a merciless judgement, and their instinct telling them to hide, to disappear. This was the presence of an Archangel, his love fierce and devoted, the protector of the Heavenly throne and humanity.
This approaching demon, though…
Noah inspected the being, a small part of his rational mind doubting his instinct the more he looked at the man. A robust and lean body, with a presence that mingled well among humans but lacked the rotten sulfuric scent of a demon (though he might hide it the way Noah hid himself). It was the charisma and strength radiating from him that made Noah persist with his instinct. When Noah probed the demon with his aura with just the lightest touch, there was no reaction. If anything, a flash of awkwardness that quickly disappeared, appeared on his face with the silence enveloping them.
Interesting, quite interesting.
He put more intent into his aura and the only difference was the demon scratching his neck in a manner that showed his nerves rather than an actual reaction to his aura. Noah could, somehow, assume the reason for the approach, because no demons willingly come close to an angel without harboring ill intentions. It happened a few times, always attempting to ruffle Noah’s feathers and wanting to stand above Noah with their nasty arrogance. They all failed spectacularly.
“Yes?” Noah finally asked, smirking when the other twitched at the unexpected response.
“Hi, hi!” His smile was quite pleasant, Noah could admit that. “Mind if I join?” With a wave of his hand, the demon scurried to take a seat, ankles locking in a way that had Noah staring longer. What a flexible pair of legs.
“What are you eating?”
“Pudding.”
The demon looked at the offered menu book, then looked at Noah’s barely eaten custard pudding. His thoughts were written so clearly across his face, the twitch of his eyebrows and shining eyes showing innocent curiosity, almost like a child discovering a new thing. Either the demon was that good at putting on an act, or he was that easy to read; Noah settled his apprehension on the former possibility, one couldn’t be too careful.
“… Is it sweet?”
“Just enough for me.”
You would think the other was facing a scenario so crucial and required careful decision with the way the demon thought over his reply. He was quick to raise his hand and order the custard pudding when he made up his mind, impeccable in manner with his gratitude and smile.
Noah had been on alert since the demon first approached, keeping his eyes on for any abrupt movement that the demon might make. It still didn’t prepare him for the feather-light brush against his ankle going up to his calf, disappearing like a shy kitten that only showed itself then one least expected it. When Noah glanced at the demon, he was perusing the menu book with interest, as if the brush of legs had been incidental. It didn’t take long for Noah to feel another brush, this time harder than before, in no way was an incident.
It didn’t escape Noah’s eyes, the flushing red on the demon’s ears, free to look with the demon bending his head down to read the menu book closer. He probably didn’t read anything on it, using it to put on a nonchalant front for his little flirting act. Interest started to grow inside Noah, showing a sign of blooming when he caught the demon peeking in secret and letting out a surprised gasp at being caught in the act. When it seemed like the demon wasn’t willing to play the game, Noah reciprocated the act; brushing his shoe on the other’s leg to his knee.
When the demon jumped up, red flushed all over his surprised face with pupils shaking in surprise, his bottom lip dropping for a glimpse of his neat row of teeth. He looked so much like a startled rabbit that Noah let out a peal of laughter, unexpecting the reaction himself.
“What’s your name?”
“Oh— ah, Nam Yejun … and yours?”
Coming in with damning confidence and flattering with embarrassment in the end, yet persisting to stand as a challenge to Noah; wordlessly demanding Noah to look at him eye-to-eye as an equal. Never once did he curl his shoulders in or look away from Noah, when some angels couldn’t even do the same.
Cute like a pet rabbit.
A demon as a pet, now that was a foolish and funny thought.
“Han Noah. It’s nice to meet you, Yejun.”
Really, really, adorable, like a rabbit.
Noah found another reason to stay on Earth.