


Long Reaching Shadows

by VectorCrocodileFangirl



Category: Zatch Bell
Genre: Drama, Friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-10
Updated: 2014-02-20
Packaged: 2014-04-21 07:07:50
Rating: T
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,529
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10098785/1/
Author URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/1089831/VectorCrocodileFangirl
Summary: Life goes on even after the end of the demon king competition, but not as pleasantly as some would like. Thankfully the denizens of the demon world have taken it into their own hands to solve the separation problem. Unfortunately, the process invites as much trouble as it does happiness.





	1. Prologue

A/N: My first attempt at Zatch Bell fanfiction, and a rather ambitious first project. An extended fanfiction exploring what happens after the end of the manga. Name usage is drawn mostly from the specific scanlations I was reading, with some changes simply because I liked other spellings better. I will likely be taking great liberties with the demon world as a whole, and I should probably note that I haven't watched the anime or the movies, so I'm drawing strictly from manga canon. Please enjoy!

* * *

In most circumstances, a letter is not a cause for celebration. Even in a world dominated by email and the telephone, receiving a rare personal letter is more of an amusing triviality than an event of real importance.

Sometimes, though, a letter can change everything. The former demon partners had learned that once already.

* * *

"Kiyo! You're going to be late!"

"I'll be fine, mom!" Kiyomaro replied to his mother's call as he bounded down the stairs, still in the process of doing up his uniform. He was never able to understand why high school uniforms were so much more complicated than their middle school counterparts; wouldn't a simple blazer work just as well? But for all his questioning, he still had to wear it. It would surely remain one of the great enigmas that even an answer-talker couldn't solve.

With his bag slung over his shoulder, he raced out the door and in the direction of the bus stop. In truth, he didn't need to. If he walked at a brisk pace, he would make it there right on time, by his calculations. But he ran to the bus every morning, and from the bus stop to school, just for the sake of keeping in shape. He didn't exactly have time for a complicated workout regimen, so for the past year he had done little things like that to keep his body in shape. After all, he didn't want to have fallen behind Zatch when they finally met up again.

He slowed to a brisk walk to catch his breath about half a block away from the bus shelter, having put all of his energy into the initial sprint. Although Zatch and the demon world had always been somewhere in the back of his mind for this past year, he had been thinking about him a lot lately. Maybe it was to do with the fact that it was almost _exactly_ a year since he had last seen him. March 8th was the exact date of their final battle with Brago, and it was late February.

The only person waiting at the bus shelter when he leisurely strode up to it was an old lady pushing a cart filled with shopping bags. His school was top level and took students from several different towns, so it wasn't uncommon for students to almost never run into each other outside of class. It made him a little nostalgic for the days when all of his classmates lived nearby, and would often stop by his house for help with their homework. Still, he knew he was lucky to be a student at such a prestigious academy, so he didn't complain and simply enjoyed his memories.

Still— he'd had a hard time making new friends at his school. His classmates were friendly enough and he had several acquaintances among them, who he knew he could rely on as partners for projects or to give him notes when he was out sick, but he wasn't particularly close to any of them. He had realized early on that it had less to do with his middle school friends and more to do with the _other_ friends he had made during his time at Mochinoki, both human and demon. It was hard to really connect with someone who hadn't been through a life-changing experience like that.

_I should email Megumi.._ he thought as the bus pulled up at the shelter. He helped the old woman load her cart onto the bus before taking his own seat at the back. His school was the second-to-last stop on the line, so although it was within commuting distance, it was still quite a trip from his house to there. His mother had debated moving closer so he wouldn't have to travel as far, but he'd told her not to worry and that he could get there every morning without any trouble. Truth be told, he had his own reasons for not wanting to move— a nagging, superstitious fear in the back of his mind that said if he went anywhere, Zatch wouldn't be able to find him again.

It was true that he still had his friends from the demon king battle, and they still kept in touch, but they weren't as close as they used to be— physically, at least, although they _had_ drifted apart a little without their demons binding them together. Sunbeam had gone back to Africa with Sister Elle, Megumi and Folgore both resumed their careers, Li-en was still living in the mountains with her grandparents, Professor Riddle had essentially adopted Vino as his own grandchild, Apollo was still running his family's company, Elly was recovering from her illness, and he hadn't heard from either Dufaux or Sherry in a long time but he assumed both were doing well. Every so often he would get an email or a phone call or a letter from one of his many fellow demon partners, wanting to catch up on how his life had been since they'd last seen each other, but without the demon battle to pull all of them together they didn't really have much reason to see each other in person. Megumi had stopped by a few months ago when her tour had come to the next city over, but he really hadn't seen anyone aside from that.

The bus trundled along its route, stopping every so often to load and unload passengers, but Kiyomaro's mind was far away from the bus ride and even farther away from the school it was taking him to. Worlds away, in fact.

* * *

"Enough of this."

Sherry stood up with such speed that it was almost impossible to track her movements between sitting and standing. At the same time she slammed the piano's cover down so fast that her instructor barely had time to pull her fingers away before they were crushed.

"Miss Sherry.." Albert said, his voice a carefully cultivated mixture of patience and concern. Sherry hated to be addressed with pity, and he was not the sort to address her harshly, no matter what she did. It simply wasn't his place.

"I see no point in continuing this," she said firmly, making a wide sweeping gesture at the grand piano. She turned her attention to the instructor. "You're dismissed."

The woman gathered her things and left quite quickly, her hands shaking. Sherry's outbursts were controlled and cool, but that only served to make her more frightening. Added to the fact that they seemed to be happening with increasing frequency, and her instructors and staff had been disappearing in rather large numbers. Albert had pledged to see her through all of her difficulties no matter what, but others were quite unwilling to deal with her demeanour simply for a job.

"What is the point of all of this..?" the young noblewoman asked, staring out of the large picture window that opened out onto the courtyard. One of the gardeners was trimming back the rose bushes, but otherwise the outside of the house seemed to be completely deserted. When Sherry's parents had been the head of the family, the house had always been a bustling centre of activity, but ever since she had taken over the staff numbers had slowly dwindled. Now the household was managed by what amounted to a skeleton staff, with only the most senior and dedicated servants remaining. Unlike her family, Sherry didn't even make any attempt to fake being an open person; she had always been closed with all but her closest companions. "I honestly don't see how learning how to play the piano or arrange flowers or speak with eloquence is going to improve my life."

"As the head of the family, you are of course permitted to end your studies whenever you wish," Albert said, bowing at the waist. "You _are_ a grown woman now, after all."

Sherry sighed and walked closer to the window, hands resting on the windowsill. Her breath clouded the glass as she rested her forehead against it, but she wasn't trying to see anything in particular regardless. Albert pursed his lips. Not only were her outbursts getting more frequent, but so too were her moments of melancholy, those dark quiet moments where she retreated entirely into herself. Her heart and mind were both somewhere far away, and pulling them back was simply not a task that Albert was equipped for.

"Perhaps Miss Sherry would like to move her kendo lesson up," he suggested. Kendo was a traditional learned skill within the Belmont family, one that Sherry had been learning since she was a young child, and beginning in the time of the demon king battle she had added several forms of martial arts training and marksmanship lessons to the roster. These days such things seemed to be the only activities that got her mind off of whatever was troubling her so deeply, if only because they occupied both her mind and body so entirely. "And after that, perhaps we can arrange to visit Miss Koko at her school. I have heard from several sources that she will be receiving an award of excellence for her academic achievements."

Sherry considered the two suggestions carefully before stepping away from the window. "..very well. Have my kendo lesson moved up to after lunch," she said, turning on her heel and walking towards the double doors at the far end of the room. "After that, arrange for us to leave to see Koko tomorrow, so we can congratulate her."

Albert nodded, somewhat troubled by the nature of her response. A year ago, Sherry would have been overwhelmed with joy upon hearing of Koko's success, but now it seemed that not even that would arouse a deeply emotional reaction from her. Perhaps her distance from Koko was to be blamed, or the fact that she had no other real companions aside from her. He recalled her corresponding once or twice with the young prodigy Kiyomaro, but she was otherwise quite alone.

It seemed to Albert as though she had shut up her heart, afraid of what might escape if she opened it again.

* * *

"How long do you think you'll be staying for?"

The old man had tears in his eyes as he spoke, tears of gratitude for Dufaux having helped craft an irrigation system that would get their village through the long dry season they had been promised. The answer-talker observed him calmly.

"Just for a few days," he replied in his flat voice. "Just long enough to rest."

He had not ceased his wanderings since he had left the fate of the demon world in the hands of Kiyomaro and his allies. The world had become one long trail for him to follow, his abilities always guiding him to the next place that needed him. At first he had been curious about this strange compulsion, then irritated; he didn't want his answer-talker ability to completely dominate his free will. But no matter how he tried to ignore it, he always seemed to be led where his help was needed. He had done everything from cure sick children to solving crop crises to ending civil wars before they even had a chance to begin. After a while he had stopped trying to resist and had gone wherever that nagging part of his mind led him. He now saw it not as a stripping of his free will, but as a message from a power that knew better than the master who controlled it, instructing him on how he could do good with an ability that had been born from pure hate. It seemed like the sort of thing Kiyomaro and his friends would be proud of, if they had known about it. He was sure Kiyomaro would know if he asked the right questions, but he was also sure he hadn't. He had sent him an email the last time he had been somewhere that had a public library and internet access, several months prior, just to tell him how things had been. He hadn't read the reply yet, if there had been one. Aside from that, he hadn't seen any of the other former demon masters, aside from a brief encounter with Kafka Sunbeam and Elle Chivas in the African savanna when he had been wandering that continent. Now he was somewhere in Europe, although the precise location didn't matter much to him.

"If there is anything else we can do to repay you, don't hesitate to let us know," the old man said, visibly overcome with relief. Like the rest of his village, he had been on the brink of starvation when Dufaux had arrived with the key to their salvation. He had taught them how to barter with the nearby villages and how to supplement their food stocks with wild plants, fish, and game, to ensure they would survive until the next harvest season. It had taken longer than his endeavours usually did, but he felt it was worth it. It wasn't simply a matter of emergency, but one of sustainability. Dry years in the future wouldn't threaten the village's crop supplies so long as they listened to his instructions and maintained the irrigation system, and even in the event of a large loss of crops by natural disaster, they would be able to gather enough food to survive. He felt.. _strengthened_ by this deed.

"Your gratitude is enough," he replied, his voice still a quiet monotone. He hadn't quite worked his way past _that_ yet, and he wasn't sure he ever would— or that he really wanted to. He simply wasn't the sort of person who expressed deep emotion. "If you and your village do as I said, the fall harvest should be enough to feed you and with some left over for trading purposes."

"Yes, yes— I will personally make sure that your instructions are followed to the letter," the old man said, repeatedly clasping his hands together and bowing his head in gratitude like he was prostrating himself before his god. Dufaux turned to the window of the small room they had lent him to rest in, staring out at the tilled fields and the people working on the irrigation system. The old man seemed to get the idea and stepped out, gently closing the door behind him.

He wondered, idly, how long this wandering lifestyle could last. Surely there would never be an end to the people he could help with his abilities. The only way his journey would end would be if he chose to allow it, finding a place that he could call home. The question then became whether he would ever allow himself to do that— whether he could choose outright to ignore this "calling" that he hadn't asked for in the first place. His gift had been born of pain, suffering, and hate— but it could be used for great good as well as great misfortune. If he stopped his wanderings, did that make him a bad person? Or did it simply make him a human being who could not forever live the life of a wandering hermit?

Even his answer-talker ability couldn't find the answers to those questions. And so he would keep wandering.

* * *

"Li-en, could you get some fresh herbs from the garden? I'd like to refill the rack."

"Yes, grandmother."

The door slid shut behind Li-en as she half-ran down the back stairs, taking the last two at once in a flying leap that ended with her landing perfectly on her feet. She felt momentarily triumphant at the gymnastic endeavour before her mood faded back into the quiet contentment of everyday life. Here in the mountains, it was hard to be troubled by worldly matters. None of the air or noise pollution of her hometown of Hong Kong permeated this peaceful place. Most of the food people ate was local, come from the farms and gardens of their neighbours. Compared to her painful existence as the daughter of a criminal, it was bliss. It could only have been better if—

She stopped her mind from wandering too far down that path. She was happy with her life, and dwelling on the past would only invite unnecessary pain. She and Wonrei had come to terms with their inevitable separation long before it had happened. It had been painful trying to explain why he wouldn't be coming back to her grandparents, but they had seemed to understand, and hadn't resented Wonrei for it. It was all she could have hoped for.

She knelt to pluck sprigs of fresh, green herbs from the garden behind their house. They wanted for nothing here— they had the idyllic pastoral life that so many yearned for without any concerns about clean water or plentiful food. She was happy. She _was_.

With her hands full, she carried the varied herbs inside where she and her grandmother would wash and separate them. After that, some would be set aside to dry and be used whole, while others would be mixed and crushed to create spices. They didn't tend any poultry or livestock themselves, but whenever Li-en bought meat from the neighbourhood market, her grandmother would cook it with her own special herb and spice mixtures. It would be a feast for the three of them. She wondered idly if her grandmother was going to send her into town for that night's meal or if she was simply preparing the herbs just in case. Either way, two sets of hands would be better than one. They would get the work done faster, and then perhaps her grandmother would have time before dinner to continue teaching her how to sew her own cheongsam. She had been working on making one in her downtime, simply to give herself something to do. There was only so much martial arts training she could do with no adequate teacher around, and simply throwing herself into working on the farm and around the house would burn her out before long. It helped to have a relaxing hobby.

"Here they are, grandmother," she announced, sliding the door shut behind her with her foot. She spread the herbs out on the kitchen table, careful not to mix them up too much and make their job more difficult.

"Good girl," the old woman said, tottering towards the table to start separating and preparing them. "After this, I'll start cooking so dinner will be ready by the time your grandfather gets home. He works so hard all day, it would be a shame not to have food ready for him when he returns."

Li-en smiled at the small woman as they sat down and began carefully combing through the herbs, separating them into individual piles depending on what they were and separating them again depending on what they were going to be used for. Her grandmother and grandfather had so many small ways of showing how much they loved each other, and she always felt like her own heart was growing whenever she spent time in their company. Even more than the peacefulness, than the fresh air and quiet tranquillity— even more than those things, that was why she had chosen to stay with them for so long. They were her dearest family.

Unable to stop herself in time, she let her eyes wander out the window and her brain wander even farther, wondering if she would ever again have a person that _she_ could feel like that about.

* * *

The weather was starting to get warmer and wetter on the African savanna, with the spring season fast approaching. Once March came, the rain and humidity would come with it. For the time being, Sunbeam tried to simply enjoy the mild weather and temperatures. He had been here for more than a year already, and was quite used to the temperamental weather conditions. He was the sort of person who simply went with the flow, after all. Elle hadn't adjusted quite so easily, but she was doing well enough.

A herd of zebra grazed dozily near the house he and Elle shared. For several months after he had first moved in, shortly after Umagon had returned to the demon world, animals had refused to come near the house; then, over time, he had befriended them. Now they moved about freely, just as they had before the structure had been built. He was glad to be able to live in harmony with the animals here, where he was surrounded by nature and the flow of life. He loved the city, too, but getting away from it all was just.. _groovy._ Too much so for words, in fact. He often tried to describe how he felt, living so close to nature, but 'groovy' seemed to be the only thing he could ever come back to.

"Would you like your eggs sunny side up or scrambled?" Elle called from inside, over the sound of sizzling saucepans. He smiled and pushed away from the guardrail on his porch that he'd been leaning over, wandering back inside. The house smelled strongly of oil and butter, and Elle stood carefully tending to breakfast.

"It doesn't matter to me. Whatever's easier," he replied, walking up behind her and putting his arms around her midsection. She giggled and squirmed, clearly embarrassed by the sudden display of affection.

"Ah! If you don't let go of me, I won't be able to finish cooking," she said firmly, tapping the back of his hand with the wooden spoon she was holding. He obligingly released her and allowed her to get back to her work.

Elle had formally left the convent not long after the end of the demon king battle, but she still did God's work, in her own way. She wasn't a missionary and didn't preach any sort of doctrine, not by a long shot, but no matter where she went or what she did she advocated for peace and good will. It was why she had become a Sister in the first place, and although she had left for her own reasons, it was something she would always hold close to her heart.

The frying pan sizzled and popped as Elle cracked one egg into it, then another. They had made the trip to the market in the beat-up pickup truck Sunbeam had salvaged and restored, and were celebrating. Eating non-perishables got old after a while.

"Do you think Momon is studying like he said he would?" she asked suddenly as she watched the clear egg start to turn white as it cooked.

"Hm?" Sunbeam said, taking a drink of the coffee she had left on the table for him.

"Before Momon went back to the demon world, he told me he was going to study so he could help people like Kiyomaro does," she explained, switching her wooden spoon for a spatula and reaching for one of the half-prepared plates sitting off to the side. "I was just thinking about whether he lived up to that promise or not."

Sunbeam was silent for a moment before smiling at her. "Definitely," he replied. "He wouldn't want you to be disappointed in him when you two meet up again. So he's definitely been studying."

"You really think so?" she asked, smiling radiantly back at him.

"Of course," he nodded. "You two are partners, after all."

Elle's face had lit up in a way that made his heart swell to see. "I'm sure Umagon is working hard, too," she said, shuffling eggs onto plates. "So you'll be proud of him when you see each other."

They had this sort of conversation about once a week, and it always went back to the topic of getting to see their partners again. Although he had occasional pangs of doubt, Sunbeam _knew_ in his heart that they would see them again. After all, it just wouldn't be groovy of the universe to give them such fantastic friends and then take them away, just like that, never to be seen again. He turned his head to stare out across the savanna as Elle started to hum to herself.

They _would_ see their demon partners again. They _had_ to.

* * *

"On set in ten, Megumi!"

"Got it!"

She adjusted the straps of her dress so they wouldn't slide down her shoulders during the show and took a deep breath. The controlled breathing exercises Dufaux had taught them to help in the fight against Clear Note had grown to be useful in dealing with pre-show jitters, although she couldn't help but wonder what he would think about his techniques being used for something like that.

Outside her dressing room, Megumi could hear the excitement of the crowd, waiting in anticipation for their idol. She was still as popular as she had ever been, and possibly even more so. All of the random disappearances and show cancellations during the battle for the demon king had added an air of intrigue and mystery to her, and the tabloids had been all over it. Between the Millennium Demon, Faudo, and Clear Note emergencies, rumours had been flying about everything from a secret boyfriend to a secret pregnancy. It had stoked the fires of her popularity, and her manager had told her to run with it, only answering such questions if they came up during an interview. She had obliged, since she really didn't care what people thought about her personal life. She didn't really mind if they wanted to grasp at straws.

The bow on the front of her dress was crooked, and she sighed when she straightened it out. The design reminded her of Tio, but it didn't take much to remind her of Tio these days. It was hard to deny that she missed her a lot, and it was starting to get to her. She didn't quite get that same rush of adrenaline from her shows the way she did when she knew Tio was watching her from the front row or the wings of the stage, she wasn't as peppy and upbeat either on stage or off, and she was having trouble sleeping. At first she had tried to keep it from affecting her show performances, but over time it had seeped in too much for her to stop. She missed having a friend with her all the time who would get up early to watch her practice, or help her sneak away when she was _supposed_ to be practising, or cheer her on from the sidelines.

Her cell phone _ping_ed, indicating an incoming email. She picked it up to look at the name and smiled when she saw it was from Kiyomaro. Although they didn't get to see each other much, since he was wrapped up in school and she was wrapped up in work, Kiyomaro always went to great lengths to keep in touch. He wanted to make sure no one ever forgot the ordeal they went through a little over a year ago, although she highly doubted anyone ever would. Their human allies and friends had all been people who had deep, deep bonds with their demons, bonds that wouldn't erode over time or be forgotten just because life got in the way. She knew they would all remember their demon partners for the rest of their lives, even if they forgot everything else.

She was in the middle of typing a response, telling Kiyomaro about how her current tour was going, when the stage manager reappeared in her doorway. "Two minutes to showtime, Megumi! Better get out here!" she said, and then she was gone before Megumi could even say anything. She set her phone aside and gave herself one last look-over in the mirror, ensuring there wasn't a hair out of place.

_Okay, Megumi,_ she thought, giving herself the mental pep-talk that Tio was no longer around to give. _Go out there and give it your all! You can't disappoint a single fan!_

With those words echoing in her mind, Megumi stepped out of her dressing room and into the wings of the stage, then onto the stage itself. Her arrival was greeted with the thunderous roaring of the crowd, a thousand people simultaneously screaming out their love for her. If she concentrated really hard, she could almost picture a little head of bright red hair bobbing up and down in the front row, screaming at her to do her best.

"Welcome, everyone!" she yelled into the mic, and the crowd roared back. "Are you ready for a great show tonight?!"

_Someday, Tio,_ she thought as her background music kicked in, readying her for her first song. _Someday you'll be able to cheer me on like that again!_

* * *

"There you go," Folgore said brightly as his pen twirled off the paper with a flourish. The young woman blushed and clutched the signed CD cover carefully to her bosom, giggling.

"Thank you, Folgore," she said happily, almost deliriously. "Even after I interrupted your quiet time like that.."

"Nonsense, bambina," he said, giving her a charming smile. "I always have time and an autograph for a beautiful woman."

The fan swooned and nearly fainted, but managed to stay upright long enough to scamper off in sheer delight. He sighed and pushed his wild hair back out of his eyes; it just couldn't be helped. Even now he was weak to the cries of a beautiful, large-breasted woman. No matter how inconvenienced, he couldn't deny an autograph to a fan, particularly of that nature. He disappeared back inside his hotel room, the door locking behind him. Finally, some alone time. Since he had arrived in Germany to promote his new CD, he had been swarmed with fans nonstop; everywhere from the airport to his hotel to the CD signing and beyond was filled with beautiful women who would do anything to get a piece of him. Oh, the life of a famous pop sensation..

He paused by his vanity, the large single-mirrored kind that had been ordered specifically for him upon the booking of his hotel, and picked up a small papier mache lion that was sitting on its edge. He brought the unfinished creation with him wherever he went, positing it as a sort of good luck charm. It certainly never failed to bring a smile to his face, no matter how tired he was or what had happened over the course of the day. One look at the bumpy, uneven mane and the protruding lump of a muzzle made him grin instantly. Of course, sometimes that happy grin was followed by a much sadder smile as he got lost in the other memories that surrounded the lion. That was okay, too. Sometimes being sad was good for the soul.

Every day he wondered how Kanchome was doing, whether he and Papipurio and Goomu were still getting along, whether he was being picked on at school or if the teasing he had always talked about had stopped since he had proven himself so strong in the battle for the demon king. He kept the letter Kanchome had sent him in his suitcase along with the lion, so that it went with him wherever he went. If he was still doing as well as he had been doing when he'd written the letter, Folgore knew he would be doing just fine. Still, he couldn't help but worry a little. The little hippo _had_ been his responsibility, after all.

"Mr Folgore?" came a voice at the door, one he recognized as the hotel manager. "Terribly sorry to bother you, but, ah— there's a bit of a situation outside the hotel. A woman starting showing off her autograph to the people outside, and now there's a crowd of women all demanding your autograph.."

"Say no more," he announced, opening the door and flipping his hair dramatically. "If these bambinas need Parco Folgore, then they will receive Parco Folgore."

He was particularly careful to make sure the door locked behind him on his way out. He could replace just about anything else, but the lion and the letter— those things were his irreplaceable, priceless treasures. They were one-of-a-kind originals, after all, and their creator didn't even live in this _world_ anymore. How many people in the world could boast _that_?

* * *

The signboard above the nursing station lit up, indicating that a patient in room 113 was paging for a nurse. Chita paused in her bed sheet folding and smoothed out her jacket, her rubber-soled slippers making little squeaking noises as she walked across the linoleum. She smiled at the patient as she opened the door.

"Good morning, Hiro," she greeted cheerfully, straightening out the bedsheets on the empty bed closest to the door as she passed by. The patient smiled back at her from his bed.

"Good morning, Chita," he responded, folding his hands over his lap. "I'm sorry to bother you so early."

"It's alright, I was just folding some laundry," she said as she took her place next to his bedside. "What is it that you needed?"

"Would you mind getting me some water? Mari isn't going to be here until later this afternoon and I don't think I can get out of bed without some help just yet," he asked, sounding sheepish about bothering her for something like that. She just continued to smile at him.

"Of course. I'll be right back," she said, turning on her heel and walking out of the room. She didn't mind little tasks like that. Even the smallest things made her feel like she was being helpful.

She'd taken up the hospital job not long after she'd returned home from Japan. She'd gone to a small local school to take her courses, and since most places were understaffed, it hadn't been hard to get a job. She'd always wanted to be either a doctor or a nurse when she was a child, but she didn't have the academic aptitude or the money for medical school. When she'd had her accident, she'd put her life entirely on hold. Told herself that there was no way someone like her could be a nurse. If she couldn't even go out in public without being stared at and feeling ashamed, how could she help people? It had seemed pointless to even try. And then..

_You still haven't.. faced forward, have you? Live.. strong. Believe in yourself.. your wound means nothing.. laugh more, stand up straight.. fall in love.._

Those words had echoed in her in a way nothing else ever had. The counselling her parents had pushed her into had been a farce, filled with small-minded people who couldn't hope to understand how she felt; the "support" of the people around her had been a thinly-veiled way of saying 'stop acting so weird and get back to normal so we can pretend nothing ever happened to you'. She'd shut herself off from the rest of the world not only to escape the people who stared and gaped, but also the ones with false pretences of "helping" her, when all they really wanted was for her to act the way _they_ wanted. Like _they_ had been the ones in the accident, not her. But Rodeaux— Rodeaux who had been a jerk from the start, always told her how much he resented her, was violent and angry and never had a single good word to say about anyone else..

His words had _meant_ something. He didn't care one way or another about her eye. All he cared about was the fact that she let it slow her down. When he'd looked at her he hadn't seen an injury but the weak-willed person cowering behind it, surrounded by vain idiots and pretentious dirt bags.

She nearly dropped the paper cup she'd been filling up in the break room sink when she felt the water pour over onto her fingers. She'd been so distracted by her own thoughts that she hadn't noticed that she was filling the cup to overflowing. She quickly poured out the excess and shoved on a lid and a straw, glad no one was around to see how distracted she was. She walked back towards room 113, her hands shaking only slightly.

_Live strong, believe in yourself, fall in love.._

Chita had decided that no matter what tried to pull her down in life, she was going to live up to Rodeaux's expectations of her. After all, if she didn't, what would he say when they met up again?

And she knew it was going to happen some day. _Knew_ it.

* * *

Kiyomaro's backpack slid off of his shoulder, hitting the floor with a dull _thud_.

"Kiyo, what was that? Are you alright?" his mom called up the stairs.

"Uh— I'm fine, mom!" he called back, willing his muscles to move again as he knelt to scoop up the books that had fallen out of his bag and toss them onto his bed. Barely able to keep his hands and legs from shaking, he walked over to the desk and picked up the piece of paper that was sitting squarely in the middle of it. "Hey, mom? Did you leave a letter on my desk?"

"No dear," his mother replied. She asked him something else, but the question went in one ear and out the other. The letter was holding too much of his attention for him to pay much to her. He wasn't even sure why the sight of it sent his entire body quivering, just that he knew there was something _important_ about it.

Carefully, like he was handling a bomb, he opened the envelope and pulled out the thick paper. His stomach clenched as he started to read the blocky, thick script.

_To the recipient of this letter,_

_The Council of the Imperial Demon Crown would like to formally thank you for your participation in the last God's Trial. We understand that many of you underwent great hardships to help your partner obtain the crown, not the least of which was the hardship of having to say goodbye to your partner after an extended period of working together. As the previous letter sent by your former partners no doubt shows, many of them are also disappointed by the separation. Thus, by order of His Royal Majesty the Imperial King Zatch Bell, those former partners who have received this letter are cordially invited to come to the location specified by 6pm in three months time. Those who attend will be given a week's worth of time to meet and speak with their former demon partner. It is advised that you pack accordingly. Upon copying down the enclosed location, please burn this letter and the envelope. Your presence at the location will be considered your RSVP._

_The Council of the Imperial Demon Crown_

"..mom?" Kiyomaro called out, momentarily unaware of how weak his voice was. "I think I want to take a week's vacation this summer," he continued, his voice cracking as tears welled up in the corners of his eyes.

All around the world, several dozen people read, cried, and planned vacations alongside him.


	2. Chapter 1

A/N: First real chapter is finally here! I don't feel like this one is quite as strong as the prologue, but I'm going to attribute that to it being a 'setup' chapter. Both character development and action had to be mostly eschewed to make way for setting up the first strings of plot, setting, etc. Things will pick up next chapter, I promise. Until then, enjoy!

* * *

Kiyomaro didn't have to bother double checking his GPS to make sure he had arrived at the right place; he simply had to follow the stream of other people that were there.

The man from the nearby village who had offered to drive him out to his destination had told him he was the fourth person who had asked him to do the same that day, and that one of them had even paid him a good deal of money for his trouble. His 'destination' was, in fact, a hiking trail that led off of a road that only ATVs and heavy-duty trucks could reach. The burly but kind farmer who had offered to take him there had said that a few dozen people had all shown up in the past few days looking for that same spot, and had asked him if they were some kind of tour group. He'd made up some sort of excuse about a nature club and had left it at that.

The hiking trail was an easy walk, but so far out of the way that it seemed rarely used. The undergrowth had been trampled by all of the other people who had come before him, but it was easy to tell that before that it had barely been used for a very long time. Tree branches hung low enough to poke out an unsuspecting person's eye and weeds lined the sides of the path, scratching up unsuspecting hikers and depositing burrs onto their clothes. Not to mention the fact that it was practically obscured from the road by trees; if he hadn't been looking for it and the farmer hadn't been pointing it out, he never would have found it. Part of him wondered if it was a leftover from a time when the village had a more intense tourism industry, but the rest of him was too engrossed in thinking about what was waiting at the end of the trail to pay the rest of it much mind.

The letter had said that if the recipient went to the listed place exactly three months from when they'd received it, they'd have a chance to see their demon partner again. Kiyomaro had immediately called every former partner he knew to ask if they'd gotten a similar letter. All of them had, even those who were away from home at the time and didn't have a fixed mailing address. Some he couldn't get into contact with no matter how hard he tried, either because he didn't know how to get into contact with them or they simply didn't want to answer his messages, but he suspected that all of his former allies would be there. Of course, it was likely that a number of partners who had been anything _but_ allies would be there as well, and that was what put him on guard. Zatch's letter and the enclosed picture seemed to imply that all of the former contestants were getting along quite well in _their_ world, but the humans who had been paired with them might not feel the same way.

The path wound further and further into the forest, carrying on so long that Kiyomaro was almost sure he had gotten lost a few times. At the beginning he had wondered why he hadn't run into anyone else along the way, but the longer the trail went on, the less unlikely it seemed. Still, some part of him instinctively seemed to _know_ that he was still on the right path, even when it was all but obscured by weeds and he had to practically crouch to walk under the tree branches. After nearly thirty minutes of walking during which he grew increasingly glad that he'd done his best to keep in shape over the months, he started to hear voices in the distance.

It wasn't hard to figure out when he had reached his destination.

The clearing was large and perfectly cultivated in comparison to the ill-used path leading to it, with short soft grass that rustled invitingly in the wind. Not a single weed from the thick forest that surrounded the clearing seemed to have touched its surface, aside from the occasional dandelion. But what interested him the most was not the immaculate nature of the place; rather, it was the people _inhabiting _it.

People milled around in small groups, anxiousness and excitement filling the air in equal measure. Some people had set up tents, while others were lounging around on picnic blankets. He tried to do a quick headcount, but he had a hard time keeping track of who he had already counted and who he hadn't. All he knew was that there had to be at least fifty people present, a number higher than what he had originally expected. In the crowd he saw a number of familiar faces, some friendly and some unfriendly, but it took him a while to find the people he was looking for. When he finally spotted a pair of tall blond heads and a brunette one in the crowd, he waved his arm above his head.

"Megumi!" he called, cupping his hand around his mouth to help carry his voice. "Sunbeam! Folgore!"

His three friends turned when they heard him call to them and waved his as frantically back. He lightly jogged up to them and deposited the sports bag he was carrying over his shoulder onto the ground in front of him, which seemed to be accumulating a similar collection of bags.

"We were wondering when you'd show up," Megumi greeted brightly. Everyone seemed to be nearly buzzing with anticipation, an excited gleam in their eyes. It wasn't just his friends, either; everyone in the crowd seemed to be that way. "How was your trip?"

"It was fine," he replied. He couldn't even remember most of the plane ride, to be honest. Besides the destination, nothing else had seemed to matter. He turned to Folgore as he wiped the sweat from his forehead, his limbs starting to remind him of the length of the hike he had just taken. "Thanks for loaning me the money. Apollo wasn't returning my calls." He glanced around momentarily, trying to see if he could spot the familiar American in the crowd. He couldn't, although he knew he would be there somewhere.

"Don't mention it! If we can't rely on each other, who _can_ we rely on, ah?" the Italian pop singer asked, giving him a firm pat on the shoulder. It was a simple enough response, but Kiyomaro smiled at the truthfulness. They'd saved two worlds together. Who else _could_ they rely on?

As he crouched to retrieve a lukewarm water bottle from his bag, a pair of feminine legs clad in hiking boots with a pair of long pants tucked into them appeared in his vision. He looked up into the smiling face of Elle. She had traded in her habit for an outfit that looked more well-suited to the African savanna, but it was hard to mistake those bright blue eyes.

"Hello, Kiyomaro," she greeted, offering a hand to help him to his feet. He accepted the offer and in turn her offered her his water bottle, which she politely declined. "How've you been? How's school?"

"Good," he replied to both questions after a deep drink. "Everything's good with me. What about you guys? How's everything been?" He spoke with Megumi and Folgore much more frequently than he did Elle and Sunbeam; it was hard to get into contact with someone who lived in the depths of Africa, after all.

"We've been fine," Sunbeam answered for the two of them, backed up by Elle's agreeing smile. He put his arm around her shoulder, and Kiyomaro smiled back. He was glad for them. They seemed good together. "Any idea about what's going on here?"

"No more than you," he replied, looking around at the other former partners. They had all gathered for the sake of seeing their demons again, but the letter had been extraordinarily vague about how that would happen. So vague, in fact, that Kiyomaro had been worried it was a trap. The fact that the letter had drawn them to a remote location in rural Europe and had given specific instructions to be burned after it had been read didn't help. It seemed like whoever had sent the letters had gone to great lengths to make sure no one else would know where the recipients were. With the knowledge that many wouldn't see the potential risk or see the risk as being worth the reward (he admittedly felt the latter), he had decided that no matter what kind of trap might be waiting, he had to go. At least he would be of more direct help if something went wrong, and he'd left instructions with his father that if he didn't call or otherwise get into contact with him in a week's time he should contact the authorities. What the authorities would be able to do about matters that were most certainly connected to the demon world he wasn't quite sure, but it had seemed better than not having any sort of contingency plan at all.

Another bag dropped onto their rapidly growing pile, accompanied by a body brushing up against his shoulder and a presence that he hadn't noticed at all up to that point. Even the people who had been looking in his direction seemed startled by the sudden appearance of the tall man with the piercing eyes.

"..hey," Dufaux greeted quite unsurely. The nuances of social interaction weren't his strong suit, although the fact that he was even making an effort was nice. Kiyomaro gave him a pat on the shoulder in greeting, determining that if he was willing to get so close he could practically feel him breathing down his neck before revealing himself, physical contact wouldn't be much of an issue.

"Good to see you," he said, giving his shoulder a squeeze. Dufaux had no roots and moved around so much that it was hard to get into contact with him— over the year and several months since they'd parted ways, with Kiyomaro going off with Zatch to defeat Clear Note and Dufaux staying behind to hope for their success, they'd only talked sporadically. Still, even though he hadn't been able to get in touch with him beforehand, he knew Dufaux would be one of the former partners who heeded the call. He didn't even need his answer-talker ability to tell him that. "Looks like we're pretty much all here.." He searched the crowds for the friends that weren't standing in their circle, catching sight of Apollo and Professor Riddle engaged in a conversation and Li-en double checking the contents of her bags. There were other familiar faces scattered throughout the crowd, people he and Zatch had met throughout the competition like Shiori and Jem, but there was one person he just couldn't pick out of the crowd no matter how hard he looked. "Hey, where's..?"

"She's here," Dufaux interjected, crossing his arms. The rest of the group stared at them oddly, but Kiyomaro knew that Dufaux was simply answering the question he hadn't been able to finish asking. "She probably just doesn't want to talk to us."

The statement was so blunt that Kiyomaro couldn't help but laugh awkwardly. "I'm sure that's not the case," he said, scratching the side of his head. "And it's not like she _has_ to say hi or anything.."

Dufaux simply shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets. He wasn't the type to be bothered by that sort of thing regardless of whether his statement was true or not, so it didn't seem to affect him either way. Kiyomaro had expected as much.

"Still," he continued, looking around a this other friends. "It's nice to have everyone all together like this."

"Yeah, especially when we don't have to worry about getting beaten up," Megumi agreed. The rest of the group murmured their own agreement, all nodding. Life had been peaceful for all of them since the end of the demon battle— too peaceful, maybe. There was a definite air of restlessness in the crowd, causing a buzz that seemed to infect every person there.

"It's almost time, isn't it?" Folgore asked, looking into the sky with his hand shielding his eyes as if he expected something to descend and carry them away at any moment.

"I wonder what's going to happen.." Elle said, staring up at the same blue expanse of nothing. "How did the demons get to our world in the first place, anyway?"

"Hm.. I'm not sure," Kiyomaro replied honestly, placing his hand under his chin in thought. "I have a few theories, but Zatch never told me anything definite.. any ideas, Dufaux?" He turned his head slightly, only to realize he was talking to thin air. Dufaux had wandered off while they were distracted and seemed to be raptly contemplating a nearby tree. _Tch.. this guy.. you'd think he'd be a little less aloof after helping us save the world.._

"I hope Umagon's kept up his training," Sunbeam commented, returning his attention to the rest of the group. "That kid has some real potential."

"I just hope everyone's still getting along," Megumi replied. "I know their last letters said they were all getting along, but it's hard to imagine some of the enemies we faced as friends.."

"I'm sure with Zatch as the king, everyone is getting along peacefully with each other," Elle said firmly, hands clasped in front of her. "With a kind king like him, why would anyone have a reason to fight?"

Everyone smiled and nodded at her assessment, but Kiyomaro smiled especially brightly. He knew the demon world under Zatch's rule must be a wonderful place.

_Zatch.. soon you'll be able to tell me about all the things you've done as king. I know you'll make me proud.._

* * *

Sherry's satellite phone rang as she sat on top of her bags, smoothing out her skirts. She pulled it out of her purse and answered it, holding it away from her ear.

"Hello?" she greeted.

"_Ah, Sherry? I'm glad I caught you!"_

"Ah! Koko? How are you?" she greeted brightly. "I'm sorry I couldn't be there to pick you up from school, but I promise we'll go somewhere together once I get back."

"_It's alright, Sherry. Albert came to pick me up at the train station. I just wish I'd gotten back before you'd left."_

"You had your job to worry about! We'll see each other when I get home. It's only a week, after all," she said gently, holding her arms close to her body.

"_Are you really not going to be able to make any calls all week? Even with that satellite phone you have?"_

"I'm.. not sure," she replied honestly. "I'll call you if I can, but I can't make any promises. I'll definitely call you as soon as I get back, though. If you need anything before then, just ask Albert. Anything at all."

Koko laughed on the other end of the line, a gentle sound. _"Thank you, Sherry, but I'm sure I'll be fine. I'll just be excited to see you when you get back."_

"I'll bring you back something special. A souvenir. Then you can tell me all about the rest of your trip," she said.

"_It sounds like an evening. I'll make your favourite stew,"_ Koko said brightly. _"Just.. make sure you get home safe, alright?"_

Sherry could feel the mood drop like a cold wind passing through her. "Oh— of course. It's just a vacation, after all. I just needed to get away for a little while."

"_I know, but.. I can't help but worry. I know you don't like to talk about where you were and what you were doing after I got out of the hospital, but I know it was hard on you,"_ she explained. _"Whenever you travel.. I always worry that you're going to get involved in something tough like that again."_

Her smile faltered as Koko spoke. "..I'm sorry to make you worry. I promise to come home safe. And I'll look forward to your cooking." She laughed, trying to make it sound genuine. In truth she felt a little guilty. She had tried desperately to keep Koko as far away from the demon battle as possible, afraid that any reminder might break down the spell that had protected her from the memories of what she had done under Zophise's influence. She didn't dare trust a word that the crazed clown said in regards to his own abilities. Of course, that meant that during the time she had been running around the world with Brago, Koko had been kept entirely in the dark about her whereabouts and activities. Albert had made excuses for her where he could, and she had tried her best to reassure her friend, but Koko was still acutely aware of how much she had struggled. She couldn't always hide how tired she was, or how much she was injured, even when Koko couldn't physically _see_ her. And after Brago had lost— well, she hadn't been the most cheerful person for a while. She had put on a smile for her best friend, but she had been disappointed in herself for the failure. Still, she had carried on knowing that the demon world had a strong, kind-hearted king, and Brago's letter had eased her remaining concerns. There was still a lingering air of disappointment over their failure, but she had more or less moved past it.

"_Well, as long as you promise,"_ Koko said cheerily. _"Call me whenever you can. I'll make sure Albert isn't lonely while you're gone."_

"Ah.. thank you, Koko. I'll see you soon, I promise. I'll talk to you later," she promised. Koko mirrored her goodbyes and was the first to hang up, leaving her phone to make a high-pitched noise directly in her ear. She sat there staring blankly into the distance for a few moments before hanging up and putting her phone back in her bag. A pleasant breeze blew through the clearing and Sherry turned her face into it, enjoying the momentary refreshment. Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of another woman resting on her luggage, plucking flower petals to amuse herself. She looked up from the bare stalk, catching Sherry's eye as she tossed it to the side. Their gaze met for one long moment before Sherry looked away, ashamed to have been caught staring.

"Um.. excuse me.."

She looked up to see the same girl standing next to her, hands bunched in the hem of her shirt. When Sherry stared at her blankly for a few moments, her hand seemed to reach for her face as if by reflex, but she forcibly stopped herself and dropped her hand so her arm hung limply next to her body.

"Yes? Can I help you?" she asked, shaking off the confusion.

"I saw you making a call.. do you get reception out here? Could I please borrow your phone?" she asked. She bowed deeply at the waist in what Sherry recognized as Japanese custom. "Please, I'm a nurse and I forgot to leave instructions about one of my patients with the woman covering my shifts. I can pay you for the trouble.."

"That's alright," Sherry replied. She reached into her bag and pulled out the satellite phone, handing it to the woman. She paused monetarily to admire the girl's short pink hair, noticing for the first time that she had a thick scar over one eye. The woman smiled at her as she took the phone, thanking her again as she took a few steps away for the sake of privacy. She spoke quietly to someone on the other end of the line for a few minutes before hanging up and returning the phone.

"Thank you," she said, crossing her arms over her chest and retreating back to her bags before Sherry could say anything else. The woman projected a certain amount of unease, as though just being around the other human partners was unsettling her. Sherry's curiosity was piqued, as was her alertness, but she shoved it to the side for later consideration. They were all there for the same purpose, after all.

As she put her phone away, her hand brushed against a thick piece of paper in her bag. She pulled it out and unfolded it, fingers brushing over the blocky letters that she shouldn't have been able to read. The letters she couldn't process individually were scratchy and bold, and the idea of Brago trying to carefully keep his rule straight made her smile. She didn't need to read it to know what it said; there had been enough lonely evenings spent in her family home while Koko was away at school for her to more or less have it memorized. She smiled as her eyes briefly passed over the section where Brago was complaining about the ceremony the remaining eight runners up had been expected to attend. She folded the leather again and put it back in her bag, a new anticipation buzzing under her skin.

* * *

Kiyomaro and Dufaux were the first to realize something was going on. The high-schooler stopped in the middle of his sentence, head jerking quickly to the side.

"What's the matter, Kiyomaro? The only time someone's head should move that fast is when they've been slapped," Folgore commented, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"You didn't hear that?" he asked, his voice tapering off as he stared across the field. A mild gust passed through the clearing, rustling the grass and sending a few hats flying, but it calmed down momentarily.

"Hear what?" Megumi asked.

"It's starting."

Kiyomaro looked over his shoulder at Dufaux, who had rejoined the group while his attention had been elsewhere. His sudden reappearance didn't startle him; this time he'd been expecting it.

He nodded. "Yeah," he said, his expression becoming serious. The buzzing energy that had been hanging in the air now seemed to crackle around them as if hailing a lightning storm, although the sky above was perfectly clear. Slowly the rest of the crowd seemed to gain awareness of the fact that _something_ was going on— starting with Professor Riddle and Apollo, and moving out from there. The excited murmur that had been present the entire time he'd been there became anxious and confused as the former partners tried to process the indescribable feeling. Tensions seemed to build not only in the crowd, but in the very air itself. Another strong wind made the long grass rustle.

"I didn't think they'd be able to do it," Dufaux breathed, his eyes sharp as he stared out across the people who were now gathering together in small groups, drawn together by the strange sense that something unnatural was going on. Even their own small group had moved in closer to each other, surrounding the bags tightly.

"Didn't think they'd be able to do what? What's going on here?" Sunbeam asked as he put an arm around Elle's shoulders once more. None of them were precisely frightened, but there was definitely a sense that something— be it physics, nature, or something less easily defined— was in the process of being defied.

"Humans have been dreaming about it for decades," Kiyomaro continued, his voice still betraying his distraction. "No one's ever been able to do it.."

"It's really great that you guys have all of the answers all the time, but would you mind sharing them with us sometimes?" Elle insisted, sounding a little wound up. Kiyomaro closed his eyes, letting the strange energetic feeling in the air wash over him. Even without being able to see him, he could somehow sense Dufaux crossing his arms next to him.

"Instantaneous travel," he said simply. "On a mass human scale. It must be using a ridiculous amount of energy.."

"I have a feeling this is going to be weird. Everyone, brace yourselves," Kiyomaro instructed. He turned to Dufaux and grinned. "Do you think they'll tell me how they're pulling this off?"

Dufaux shrugged. "You're the king's partner, aren't you?" he said, his eyes wandering. The buzz was so thick that Kiyomaro swore he could see the occasional spark in the air out of the corner of his eye, although it was always gone by the time he turned to look at it.

A strong light seemingly from nowhere suddenly threw the world into a sharp black-and-white contrast, forcing the assembled to shield their eyes. A few cries of surprise went up among the crowd, mostly from the younger children. Dufaux didn't even bothered to cover his eyes, instead looking down at the ground.

"Looks like it's time," he said, scuffing his shoe along a glowing line painted on the ground. The line led off into the crowd, joining up with other similar lines. When his eyes had started to adjust to the bright light, Kiyomaro followed the strange pattern of light, his might mentally reconstructing the shape as viewed from above. He let out a little gasp of realization.

"It's the same as the markings on the books!" he said, planting his fist in his open palm. _So that's what's going on here.. no wonder they had to get us all in one place.._

"This is worse than stage lights.." Folgore grumbled, shielding his eyes with both arms. Of the other four, only Sunbeam had adjusted to the bright light, and was squinting at the two answer-talkers as if waiting for some kind of explanation. Even if they could have given one, however, they didn't have the time.

As quickly as the light had appeared, it vanished— leaving an empty field devoid of any human beings or the bags they had carried with them, a breeze rolling through the grass.

* * *

There was an understandable amount of confusion when the bright light disappeared, not the least of which surrounded the fact that the dense tree line and rolling meadow had been replaced by elaborate architecture and marble slab floors. A murmur of surprise and concern went up among the fifty-odd humans, only to be silenced when a loud, authoritative voice informed them they were not alone. Immediately all heads turned to the far end of the room.

Standing on a dais behind what some sort of podium was a man in an immaculate three-piece suit. His huge black hands, tipped with inch-long claws and far out of proportion with his body, were folded neatly on top of the podium. A carved ivory mask with no defined features other than two closed eyes, one of which was surrounded by a blue diamond, covered his face and made him unreadable. The entire crowd was frozen, watching him as he adjusted his stance on the dais and held his head high.

"Welcome, human beings young and old, former partners of our esteemed Demon king challengers," he orated, holding his arms out in a wide gesture of greeting. "As a member of the High Imperial Council and a personal attendant to King Zatch Bell, I would like to personally welcome you.. to the demon world."


End file.
