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Hinamori wasn’t talking to her. Then again, she was completely covered in blood. Perhaps saturated was a better word. Turns out that the demon had been a Blood-aligned Class Three, and had actually become the summoning circle. Note to self: never, ever use blood to draw a summoning circle if there’s something else available. She’d not yet heard of an Ink-aligned demon, after all.

“In my defense, a - I am covered in just as much blood as you and b - I wasn’t expecting the circle to actually explode like that.” Momo merely gave her an impressive glare, and walked around the other side of the pick up's cab, yanking the door open with no small amount of spite. Nanao winced - that handle was barely functional after the last ‘adventure’ she’d had in this poor, battered vehicle.

That corporeal were-hedgehog hadn’t seen it coming, though. Heh.

Sighing, she opened her own door, ignoring the tackiness of drying blood on her hands. The engine spluttered into life, and then they were off. Ten miles down the highway Hinamori finally spoke up (but not before thoroughly scrubbing her face clean with the box of wet wipes she kept in the glovebox.

“What are we going to say if the cops pull us over?” Nanao shrugged, and changed lanes, gears crunching through in a battered gearbox. She was going to have to take it back to those odd cousins again; they may be very odd (and that was saying something, given who she worked with on a regular basis), but they could strip and reassemble an engine like it was nothing.

“The cops aren’t going to pull us over.”


Another ten miles down the highway, and she was proven horribly wrong. Stupid panicking members of the public and their..... panicky-ness. She was doing them a favour by destroying demons! Unfortunately, that’s not what the cops thought.


“Kurotsuchi speaking.”


“....Ise-kun, what a singular pleasure to have you calling me.”

“Can it, you piece of crap, is there anyone else there right now?”

“Why, is something the matter, Ise-kun?”

“If you keep calling me Ise-kun, I will set all your experimental notes on fire.”

“Aha, you’ve been pulled over by the state police again!”

“Don’t sound so goddamned gleeful about it, you juggalo.”

“. . . . . . .”


“And why should I assist you?”

“Because if you don’t we’re going to be tossed in jail and you’ll have to pay our bail again...? And I’m pretty sure Hinamori wouldn’t last ten minutes in there.”


“I see. So you haven’t already been arrested?”

“No... they’re getting twitchy, though. Considering how much blood we’re covered in--”

“I thought this was going to be a routine mission, Ise-kun.”

"Nnnngh, look, it was a level three blood elemental, and he’d used blood for the circle. The summoner dying didn’t banish it back to Hell, you see where I’m going?"


“.....goddamnit, you’re writing this down, aren’t you.”

“Go on.”

“Look, if I put you on to the police can you please explain to them that we aren’t serial killers? I already smell worse than a three-day old pad, thanks, and I’d like to get this shit off me before I start attracting zombies and condors to my still living body.”

“I thought you said you were covered in blood, Ise-kun. Don’t tell me you soiled--"

Shut up!


She made sure to give Kurotsuchi both fingers as she walked in the door, dried blood flaking off her with every step.

“I hate you so much, I am going to get a raccoon and I am going to make it pee on everything you hold dear--”

“Nanao-san, I’m going to the showers.”

“--Okay, sweetie, you take your time in there. Now listen here, you utter prick, the next time you pull something like that I will personally request that you take a field mission for the first time in your entire existence as a demonologist.” By this time she was leaning over his desk, staring him down, lips pulled back in a grimace. He raised a barely visible eyebrow at her.

“Nothing so much as a thank you?” A snarl ripped from her throat as she barely restrained herself from flipping the table he was hiding (he totally wasn’t hiding, Kurotsuchi Mayuri didn’t give a fuck about fear, it just made her feel better to think so) behind, and she instead tipped over his regrettably empty coffee mug, turned, and walked away.

“Fuck you!” She called over her shoulder, heading determinedly in the general direction of the showers, studiously ignoring a rather confused Hisagi who'd had the exceptional luck to walk in on another row between two of their ragtag organisation's most valuable members.

“Only once you’ve had a shower!” Came the mocking reply, and Hisagi wisely ducked behind the sofa to avoid the sudden barrage of shoes, knives, and other miscellaneous demon hunting items that accompanied Nanao’s shriek of indignant rage. It was just so easy for Mayuri to rile her up, it almost wasn’t fair.