The rift closed behind them with a quiet hum—two streaks of light departing from the chaotic ribbon of the multiverse.
Kikidori, still sore from having listened to the *worst musical in existence*, grumbled as he descended back into the infernal realm. Flames licked the black sky, and hellfire crackled beneath obsidian mountains. It was home, if "home" was a demonic warzone with unholy screams echoing in the distance and a constant smell of burnt souls and brimstone.
The demon walked with slow steps through the fractured roads of Hell, ignoring the snarling beasts, sinners being punished, and impaled politicians.
His castle stood at the heart of it all—tall, cruel, and shadowy against the red-hot clouds. He pushed open the massive doors of blackened iron, stepped past the picture of him as a child—his face scowling between two much too proud figures—and made his way inside.
He didn't say a word. Didn't think a thought.
Kikidori stripped off his cracked armor piece by piece, the remnants of celestial dust still clinging to it from earlier. He tossed them across the chamber without care, boots landing with a dull thud. He made it to the obsidian bed—carved with spikes and lined with cursed velvet—and dropped face-first onto it.
No chaos. No fire.
Just darkness.
And within seconds… he was asleep.
---
Meanwhile, above everything, in a realm of serenity and radiance, Haruna ascended the steps of her home on the outer edge of Heaven.
The house was a masterpiece of divine architecture—white marble shaped by songs, golden beams glowing with life. Light filtered in through a window made of memory and dreams.
She pushed open her door and sighed softly, the heavenly air brushing against her cheeks like a lover's whisper.
The armor came off slowly—each shining plate clinking as she undid the fastenings. The breastplate, the arm guards, the greaves… all of it set gently aside on a divine rack. Haruna stood in her underrobes, hair shimmering with golden threads, bare feet padding across the celestial floor.
She entered the washroom—walls made of soft cloudstone, the basin filled with glowing water drawn from Heaven's eternal springs.
With a press of her hand, the water flowed—gentle, warm, and cascading down in a soft golden rain. She stepped beneath it, eyes closed, the light soaking into her skin, washing away the strain of her time with Kikidori.
She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. The water didn't just clean—it sang. It hummed lullabies, whispered comfort.
And for the first time in days… she smiled.
Not because of Heaven. Not because of peace.
But because even though Kikidori was the most vulgar, chaotic, stubborn, impossible demon she'd ever met…
He was *real*.
And that counted for something in a world of perfect lies.
She stepped out of the divine shower, wrapped herself in soft celestial cloth, and walked to her bed. It was simple. White cloud-silk. Pillows made of angel feathers.
Haruna looked up at the golden ceiling, exhaled, and whispered:
"…He's an asshole."
And she smiled again.
Moments later, she fell asleep.
---
In Hell, Kikidori snored with his face half-buried in a pillow stained with blood.
In Heaven, Haruna dreamed of flames that didn't burn.
The end of chapter 20.