The four years following the Deviculum had passed with the steady, quiet growth of a sapling reaching for the sun. For Cirrus, time was a river of sensory information that he had finally learned to dam. He was fourteen now, and the ethereal child who had once stood before the Thirteen Crowns had matured into a young demon of effortless, quiet power.
His silver-lavender hair, now a shimmering cascade that reached his waist, moved with a life of its own, occasionally drifting as if caught in a breeze only he could feel. His porcelain skin remained as pale as mountain snow, but his frame had lengthened, gaining the lean, relaxed strength of someone who never needed to tense. Most of the time, he kept his eyes closed—not out of detachment, but out of necessity. To have them open was to invite the entire world's desires, histories, and dreams to flood his mind at once. It was like staring directly into a sun of pure information. Like a certain legendary sorcerer's blindfold, his closed lids were his filter, his way of choosing what deserved his limited attention.
But tonight, in the safety of the Sullivan mansion, the filter was off.
The grand dining hall was bathed in the warm, flickering glow of enchanted candles. Cirrus sat at the long obsidian table, his eyes wide open. They were beautiful, shifting pools of blue-green that reflected the candlelight with a soft, intelligent spark. Here, with Sullivan and Opera, he didn't need to hide. He looked at his grandfather with a genuine, relaxed warmth, his expression open and soft.
Sullivan was, as always, a whirlwind of nervous energy. He sat at the head of the table, his usual boisterousness replaced by a rare, fidgety hesitation. He kept glancing at Cirrus, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of excitement and a strange, uncharacteristic worry.
"So, Cirrus-kun!" Sullivan finally burst out, his voice echoing slightly too loudly. "Tomorrow is the big day! Your first day at Babyls! Are you excited? Nervous? I've already prepared three different types of uniforms, and I've personally enchanted your school bag to be weightless!"
Cirrus leaned back in his chair, a small, amused smile playing on his lips. He took a slow sip of his herbal tea, his gaze steady on his grandfather. "I'm ready, Grandpa. Opera-san has made sure I have everything. As for excitement... I'm mostly curious. It's been a while since I've been around so many people at once. I'll probably have to keep my eyes shut most of the time just to stay sane."
Opera, standing behind Sullivan with their usual impeccable posture, gave a small, sharp nod. Their cat-ears twitched, tracking the conversation with professional precision. "The young master's preparations are complete, Sullivan-sama. However, your own preparation for the opening ceremony seems to be... excessive. Even for you."
Sullivan laughed, a booming sound that shook the room. "Nonsense, Opera! One can never be too prepared for their grandson's debut! But..." He trailed off, his expression shifting. The boisterousness faded, replaced by a soft, almost vulnerable look. He set his fork down and leaned forward, his hands clasped on the table.
"Cirrus," he said, his voice dropping to a more serious register. "I've been thinking about something. Something very important."
Cirrus tilted his head, his blue-green eyes narrowing slightly as he sensed the shift in the room. Sullivan's mana was no longer just doting; it was laced with a deep, ancient pity and a spark of sudden, intense interest.
"How would you feel," Sullivan began, his eyes searching Cirrus's face, "about having a brother?"
The silence that followed was absolute. Opera's gaze snapped to Sullivan, their eyes narrowing with a suspicion that was almost palpable. They looked at Sullivan, then at Cirrus, their tail giving a single, sharp flick of alarm.
Cirrus didn't flinch. He sat perfectly still, processing the question with a calm, analytical mind. A brother. It was an unexpected variable, but not an unwelcome one. He thought of the quiet halls of the mansion, the way Sullivan always seemed to have more love to give than there were people to receive it.
"A brother?" Cirrus repeated, his voice calm and thoughtful. "I never really thought about that. Why so suddenly, Grandpa?"
Sullivan's mana wavered, a flicker of worry crossing his features. He reached out, his hand hovering near Cirrus's. "I... I have been thinking of adopting another grandson. A boy who needs a home. A soul that has been... neglected. I don't want you to think that this changes anything, Cirrus-kun! You are my precious grandson, my pride and joy! I would never want you to feel unloved or abandoned. But this child... I take pity on his soul. There is something in him, a spark, a resilience that attracts me. I feel I must bring him here."
Cirrus looked at his grandfather, seeing the genuine concern in his eyes. He reached out and placed his hand over Sullivan's, a rare gesture of physical comfort. "It's alright, Grandpa. I don't mind. If you feel he belongs here, then I trust you. But why him? What is it about him that caught your eye?"
Sullivan let out a long, shuddering breath of relief, his mana brightening instantly. "You truly are a wonderful boy, Cirrus! As for why... you'll see. He is... unique. Very unique."
They continued their dinner, the atmosphere shifting from tense to expectant. After the meal, Sullivan didn't linger. He stood up, his cape billowing behind him. "I must go now! There are papers to sign, arrangements to be made! Opera, look after Cirrus! I shall return with your new brother soon!"
With a flourish, Sullivan stepped onto the balcony and took flight, disappearing into the night.
Opera and Cirrus stood at the grand entrance of the mansion, watching him go. The cool night breeze ruffled Cirrus's long hair.
"What do you think made Grandpa adopt another one so suddenly, Opera-san?" Cirrus asked, his eyes still open, reflecting the moonlight. There was no trace of resentment in his tone, only a pure, quiet curiosity.
Opera stood silent for a moment. "I do not know, young master. Sullivan-sama's whims are often beyond comprehension. But he has a reason for everything. All we can do is trust him."
Opera reached out and slowly closed the heavy oak doors. "It is late. You should rest, young master. Tomorrow will be a day of many changes."
Cirrus nodded and began the walk to his room. As he moved through the familiar halls, he finally let his eyes drift shut. The world of light and color faded, replaced by the familiar, pulsing map of the mansion's dreams.
***
Hours later, the mansion was a silent, breathing entity. Cirrus sat in his room, his eyes closed, his mind drifting through the household's consciousness. He felt the steady, rhythmic pulse of the two household cats, their dreams filled with the scent of sun-warmed stone. He felt the slow, patient thoughts of the garden. He felt Opera's dream—a disciplined, orderly space where everything was in its proper place.
Then, a sudden, jarring shift in the mana currents.
Sullivan had returned.
Cirrus didn't need to open his eyes to see the scene. He felt the sudden, frantic energy of his grandfather, a whirlwind of joy and anxiety. And with him, a new, unfamiliar presence. It was a small, fragile thing, a soul that felt like it had been battered by a thousand storms. It was tied with a rope—a physical manifestation of the contract that had just been signed.
Cirrus felt the fear, the confusion, the sheer, overwhelming exhaustion of the new arrival. It was a human soul, a thing of hunger and greed and kindness, all tangled together in a way that Cirrus had never encountered before.
Sullivan's voice echoed through the mansion, a hushed, excited whisper. "Opera! Opera, come quickly! He's here! He's finally here!"
Opera appeared instantly. They looked at the small, trembling boy Sullivan had brought with him, their expression unreadable. Sullivan was practically vibrating with excitement, his hands fluttering as he untied the rope and began to fuss over the boy.
"Iruma-kun! Welcome to your new home! Don't be afraid, I'm your new grandfather! I've already prepared your room, and your dinner, and your school uniform! Oh, you're so small! So precious!"
The boy, Iruma, could only stare in wide-eyed shock. He was a 14-year-old human, his clothes tattered, his hair a mess of dark blue. He looked like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. He had been sold by his parents, a betrayal so profound that it had left his soul raw and exposed.
Sullivan, oblivious to the boy's internal turmoil, continued to babble. "Sign here, Iruma-kun! Just a little stamp, and it's official! You're my grandson! My beloved grandson!"
Iruma, unable to deny any request, especially one accompanied by such overwhelming kindness, took the stamp and pressed it onto the contract. The moment the ink touched the paper, the bond was sealed. Sullivan let out a cry of joy and scooped Iruma into a bone-crushing hug.
"Oh, I'm so happy! So, so happy! Now, you must be exhausted! Opera, show Iruma-kun to his room! I've already prepared the softest bed in the Netherworld for him!"
Opera gave a small, stiff bow and led the dazed Iruma away. Sullivan watched them go, his expression softening into a look of pure, unadulterated love. Once Iruma was safely tucked into his new bed, Opera returned to the hallway, their expression severe. They stood before Sullivan, their arms crossed.
"Sullivan-sama," Opera began, their voice low and dangerous. "I understand your desire for a grandson. But this... this is a human. You have brought a human into the heart of the Netherworld. What are you planning? And what about the young master's feelings? Have you considered the burden you are placing on him?"
Sullivan smiled, a small, sad smile. "Nothing really, Opera. I simply saw a child who needed a home. A child who has a spark that the Netherworld lacks. He will be a good brother for Cirrus, don't you think? And Cirrus is stronger than you think, Opera. He is a Seer. He sees the truth of things. He will understand."
Sullivan turned and began to walk away. "Tomorrow is a big day, Opera. A very big day. I must go and speak with Cirrus. He should know that his brother has arrived."
Sullivan stopped at the doorstep of Cirrus's room. He could feel the young demon inside, his mana calm and steady. Cirrus was playing with one of the household cats, his fingers moving through its fur with a gentle, rhythmic grace.
"The door isn't locked, Grandpa," Cirrus said, his voice carrying clearly through the wood. "You can come in."
Sullivan pushed the door open and stepped into the room. Cirrus sat on his bed, the cat purring contentedly in his lap. He didn't open his eyes, but he tilted his head toward Sullivan, a silent acknowledgment.
"Your brother has arrived, Cirrus-kun," Sullivan said, his voice soft and hopeful. "Will you not come and see him? He is... he is very small. Very fragile."
Cirrus continued to pet the cat, his expression unreadable. "I will see him later, Grandpa. There is no need to rush. I have already felt his presence. His dream is... unfamiliar."
Sullivan nodded, a look of understanding crossing his features. "I know. He is different from us. But he is still your brother. I know it's hard to accept someone so suddenly, but give him a chance, yeah? Protect him, Cirrus. Accept him as your own, just as I have accepted you."
Cirrus felt the weight of Sullivan's request. He didn't feel "love" for this new arrival yet—he didn't even know him. But he felt his duty to his grandfather, the person who had given him everything. If Sullivan wanted this, Cirrus would make it happen.
"If it makes you happy, Grandpa," Cirrus said, his voice a slow, lazy drawl. "I will accept the responsibility. I'll look after him."
Sullivan let out a cry of joy and rushed forward, pulling Cirrus into a warm, affectionate hug. "Oh, thank you, Cirrus! Thank you! You truly are the best grandson a demon could ask for! Now, have a good night. Tomorrow is a big day for both of you!"
Sullivan pulled away and left the room, his mana radiating a joy that seemed to light up the entire hallway. Cirrus sat in the silence, the cat still purring in his lap. He closed his eyes and reached out, his mind drifting toward the unfamiliar dream that was even now settling into the mansion's heart.
***
Midnight had arrived, and the mansion was a silent, breathing entity. Cirrus sat on his bed, his eyes closed, his mind drifting through the familiar dreams of the household. Sullivan's dream was a vast, chaotic landscape of joy and ancient power. Opera's dream was a disciplined, orderly garden.
Then, he felt it.
A new, unfamiliar dream. It was a small, fragile thing, a soul that felt like it had been battered by a thousand storms. It was a human dream, a thing of hunger and greed and kindness, all tangled together in a way that Cirrus had never encountered before.
Cirrus reached out, his mind drifting toward the new arrival. He entered the dream, and the world around him shifted.
He was standing in a vast, grey wasteland, a place where the wind howled with a lonely, mournful sound. In the center of the wasteland, a small, trembling boy sat huddled on the ground. It was Iruma, his new brother.
Cirrus watched him for a long moment. He saw the boy's kindness—a soft, glowing light that seemed to push back the darkness of the wasteland. He saw his hunger, a deep, aching void that had never been filled. He saw his curiosity, a spark of wonder that even the most profound betrayal couldn't extinguish.
And he saw his past.
He saw the parents who had sold him, their greed a dark, oily substance that had coated his soul. He saw the dangerous situations he had been forced into—the fishing boats in the big storms, the constant, grinding struggle for survival. He saw the kindness that had been exploited, the requests that could never be denied.
It was a life of profound suffering, a tragedy that Cirrus found both puzzling and touching. He didn't feel "love" for this boy yet, but he felt a sudden, intense interest. This was a soul that had been tested in a way that no demon could ever understand.
Cirrus reached out and touched the boy's shoulder in the dream. The boy looked up, his amber eyes wide with shock.
"Who are you?" Iruma whispered, his voice a soft, trembling sound.
"I am Cirrus," the young demon replied, his voice smooth and calm. "I am your brother."
Iruma stared at him for a long moment, his expression shifting from fear to wonder. "A brother? I... I've never had a brother before."
Cirrus smiled, a small, genuine smile. "Neither have I. But it seems we are both in a new world now. A world of dreams and desires."
He pulled back, his mind drifting away from the dream and back to his own room. He sat on his bed, the cat still purring in his lap. He closed his eyes and reached out, his mind already drifting toward the unfamiliar dream that was even now settling into the mansion's heart.
He didn't feel "love" for Iruma yet. He simply thought: Grandpa is asking this of me. It is my duty to ensure his happiness. But as he sat in the silence, he felt a sudden, unexpected warmth. A brother. Perhaps this was the dream he had been waiting for.
The first day of school was only hours away. A day of many changes, a day of new beginnings. Cirrus closed his eyes and let the silence of the mansion wash over him.
He was ready.