To you, to me.
Scorning many, cherishing few, passing the time that never waits by idly counting the falling grains.
Living by counting falling sand. Passing time watching flowing water.
to give to you... [1]
This cryptic little monologue is my very first memory.
And to this day, I still don't understand it.
I still don't know what this verse means or what it's trying to say.
I'm seated on the throne.
More precisely, on the lap of the Demon King who's sitting on the throne.
Both his arms are wrapped around my waist, getting rid of the little distance that was between us just a moment ago. I've stopped resisting. I'm not allowed to escape no matter how embarrassing it is or how much the thick, sweet aura feels like it's going to poison me.
As I slump limply back against him, I hear a low chuckle. His breath tickles my ear. His husky, throat-rumbling voice is strangely sensual, and since I'm still not used to it, I flinch.
“Humans again. Don't you think they never learn?”
He says.
Seems like he's sensed some intruders in the castle.
I agreed with him, "Mhm."
“They really should just give up already."
“What's their statuses?"
“Hold on a sec.”
I bring my hands together and raise them to eye level, and a crystal ball materialised. Peering in, I see a clear yet slightly warped image. The warping was caused by the circular shape of the crystal ball.
A few humans who just broke into the Demon King's castle were making their way forward while keeping a watchful eye on the entrance. They occasionally wander off onto side paths, but that's just a storeroom, you know, is something I only think and don't tell them.
One man and four women.
--- So this man's the 'protagonist' this time.
When I stared at them, their statuses appeared in my field of vision.
This is the one thing even the man behind me can't see, a power that's exclusively mine. An ability that was supposed to belong to the Hero's helper fairy is being put to work for the Demon King instead.
“The man's class is ‘Paladin,’ level 89. HP 8365, MP 5200, max resistance to all elements. Immune to poison, petrification, and silence. The red-haired woman is a ‘Martial Artist,’ level 87, HP 8600, MP 0. The blue-haired woman is a ‘Healer,’ level 81, HP 6000, MP 7000, immune to silence. The black-haired woman is...”
“That's enough.”
“... Okay.”
Seems he's lost interest.
As if to soothe my disheartened self, a large hand pets my head. I love the feeling of him running his fingers through my hair. His touch is so gentle and soothing.
I twist around and rub my forehead against his collarbone. I'm going for the cat vibes.
Acting spoiled like this puts him in a good mood, so I'll do it even if it's embarrassing.
I'm a former modern-day person and a former helper fairy of the Hero. Letting the approaching Hero's party get chopped into mincemeat just because the Demon King's in a bad mood is more than I can stomach.
“What's the matter?”
“Nothin'. Another bunch of weaklings showed up, so it's boring. Can I take a nap?”
“Sure. I'll wake you when they get here.”
The Demon King is kind to me. His blond hair is soft to the touch, his moon-like golden eyes are almond-shaped, and he looked intelligently beautiful. He is arrogant, haughty, strong, and above all else, beautiful.
Who would ever guess that this prince-looking man is the very one responsible for slaying so many humans?
--- He used to be so adorable back then.
How on earth did things end up like this?
His hand covers my dead-fish eyes, and, gently prompted, I let my lids fall closed.