Chapter 46

The dinner was actually nice, once Serafall stopped making exaggerated heart shapes with her hands from across the restaurant. There's something surreal about being on a forced date with a devil heiress while her sister provides running commentary through interpretive gestures.

The quiet between us wasn't uncomfortable - more like the pause before a chess move, weighted with possibility. Sona cut into her salmon with surgical precision, each movement deliberate and controlled. Even in this ridiculous situation, orchestrated by her chaos-incarnate sister, she maintained that perfect composure that had first caught my attention months ago.

"This is strange," she said finally, not looking up from her plate.

"The restaurant? The forced romantic dinner? Or the magical girl providing color commentary from across the room?"

"All of it." A hint of a smile touched her lips. "But mostly... this feeling of inevitability."

I knew what she meant. Everything that had led us here - the business meetings, the chess games, the careful dance around conversations that meant more than we were ready to admit. It had all been building toward something, and Serafall had just pushed us off the cliff.

"That's very philosophical for a devil."

"Devils invented philosophy," she said dryly. "We had eternity to think about our mistakes."

The conversation drifted to safer territories after that - the hospital project, recent supernatural politics, anything that didn't require us to examine whatever this thing between us had become. 

"Leon." She reached across the table, covering my hand with hers. Her skin was cool, precise, like everything else about her. "About what I said earlier. About sharing affection."

"Yeah?"

"I meant it." Her violet eyes met mine directly. "Devil society operates differently than human culture. Multiple relationships, political marriages, peerage bonds - it's all perfectly normal. Expected, even."

"And you're comfortable with that?"

"As long as I'm first," she said simply, and there was something in her voice - not jealousy, but a quiet certainty that brooked no argument. "I won't share power, Leon. But I can share affection, if it comes to that."

The weight of that statement settled between us. She wasn't asking about hypotheticals. She was establishing ground rules for a future that felt both distant and immediate.

From across the restaurant, Serafall made another exaggerated heart shape with her hands, her magical girl outfit sparkling under the ambient lighting like a disco ball had achieved sentience. I glared at her, and she just grinned wider, clearly delighted by our emotional progress.

"Your sister is never going to let us live this down, is she?"

"Oh, absolutely not." Sona's lips twitched with the kind of amusement that suggested years of dealing with Serafall's particular brand of sisterly chaos. "She'll probably have our children's names picked out by tomorrow."

"Children?" My voice came out as a squeak, completely destroying any pretense of supernatural badass I might have been maintaining.

"Figure of speech," Sona said quickly, though her cheeks turned that delicate shade of pink that made her look less like a calculating devil heiress and more like a girl trying to navigate feelings that didn't fit neatly into strategic categories. "For now."

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I was still smiling like an idiot when I got to the office the next morning.

Last night kept replaying in my head. Even being kidnapped for a forced romantic dinner had turned out... nice.

Really nice.

"Stop grinning like that," I muttered to myself, dropping into my chair. "You look like a lovesick teenager."

Which, technically, I was. At least the teenager part.

I pulled up the morning reports, trying to focus on quarterly projections instead when a sharp knock at my door cut through my thoughts. "Come in."

Alessia stepped inside, her usual professional composure tinged with something that looked like concern. "The Hindu representatives have arrived, sir. They're... insistent about meeting with you immediately."

"Let me guess - they're not here to discuss our temple maintenance contracts."

"No, sir." Her expression grew more serious. "They seem particularly interested in recent events. Specifically, the armor you displayed during your confrontation with Azazel."

Right. The Kavacha and Kundala. I should have seen this coming. Ancient Hindu divine armor suddenly appearing in the hands of a human teenager? Of course they'd want answers.

"Do they now?"

"Yes, but..." She paused. "They're being quite aggressive with the staff. Demanding immediate audience, making threats about divine retribution."

I felt my good mood evaporating. "Threats?"

"Nothing overt. But they seem to believe you're in possession of stolen artifacts." Alessia's voice carried that careful neutrality she used when she thought I might do something violent. "They're... not being diplomatic about it."

"Send them in."

"Sir, perhaps we should schedule—"

"Now, Alessia."

She nodded and withdrew. I leaned back in my chair, letting my expression settle into something cold and professional. If they wanted to come into my office making demands, they'd get the courtesy I reserved for hostile business meetings.

Which was to say, none at all.

The three who entered looked exactly like what I'd expected from minor Hindu deities trying to play big league politics. The leader was tall, dark-skinned, with the kind of bearing that screamed 'divine authority' to anyone who didn't know better. His companions flanked him like bodyguards, all sharp suits and barely contained power.

"Leon Mishima." The leader's voice carried an accent that sounded like it came from somewhere far older than any human civilization. "I am Agni's herald, Tejasvi. We represent the interests of the Hindu pantheon in this matter."

"What matter would that be?" I kept my voice level, professional.

"The theft of sacred artifacts belonging to our pantheon." His eyes flashed with divine fire. "The Kavacha and Kundala. Divine armor forged by Surya himself, meant only for his chosen champions."

"I see." I steepled my fingers, studying their faces. "And you believe I've stolen these artifacts?"

"You displayed them publicly during your battle with the Governor-General of the Grigori." One of the companions spoke up, his voice harsh with accusation. "Divine armor that has been missing for centuries, suddenly appearing in the hands of a human child."

Child. The word hit like a slap.

"Interesting theory." I kept my voice calm, though I felt heat building behind my sternum. "Do you have any proof of this theft you're accusing me of?"

"The artifacts themselves are proof enough," Tejasvi said dismissively. "No human could legitimately possess such divine constructs. You will return them immediately, along with an explanation of how you acquired stolen goods."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop. "Will I now?"

"Yes." His voice carried the weight of divine command, the kind of tone that probably made mortals fall to their knees in worship. "Surrender the armor and submit to questioning about your theft, and we may be merciful in our judgment."

I stared at him for a long moment, feeling something cold and ugly unfurling in my chest. "Let me make sure I understand this correctly. You've come into my office, accused me of theft without evidence, and are now demanding I surrender my property based on your assumptions."

"They are not your property—"

"And threatening me with divine retribution if I don't comply." I stood slowly, my hands flat on the desk. "In my own building. On my own territory."

"You are mortal," the third one spoke for the first time, his voice dripping with disdain. "Your 'territory' means nothing to divine beings. You will surrender what you have stolen, or face the consequences."

That was it. The last thread of my patience snapped.

"Get out." My voice came out low, dangerous.

"Excuse me?" Tejasvi blinked, clearly not expecting defiance.

"I said get out." I walked around the desk, moving with deliberate slowness. "You have thirty seconds to leave my office before I remove you myself."

"You dare threaten us?" The second one stepped forward, power crackling around his form like heat shimmer. "We are divine beings, child. You are nothing but—"

He didn't get to finish.

My fist caught him in the solar plexus, enhanced by just enough mana to send him flying across the room. He crashed through my office window in an explosion of glass and concrete, his cry of shock cut short by the sound of his body hitting the courtyard thirty floors below.

The other two stared at the hole where their companion had been, then at me. Divine shock and very human fear warred across their features.

"Twenty seconds," I said conversationally.

Tejasvi's face contorted with rage. "You assault a divine being? In the name of Lord Indra, I—"

I moved.

They were fast - faster than humans, faster than most supernatural creatures I'd fought. But I'd been training with Vali Lucifer and sparring with the Governor-General of the Grigori. These minor gods might as well have been moving through molasses.

I caught Tejasvi's wrist as he tried to summon fire, twisted, and threw him into the wall hard enough to leave a crater in the reinforced concrete. The third one tried to flee, his speed carrying him toward the broken window.

I was faster.

My hand closed around his throat, mana flowing through my grip with lethal intent. His feet dangled off the ground as I lifted him effortlessly, his divine nature meaning nothing in the face of raw power.

"You come into my territory," I said quietly, squeezing just hard enough to make breathing difficult. "You threaten my people. You make demands based on assumptions and arrogance."

His eyes bulged, hands clawing uselessly at my arm.

"And you call me child." The mana in my grip intensified, and I heard the wet crack of vertebrae starting to compress. "Big mistake."

"My, my. Quite the display."

The voice cut through the room, carrying an undercurrent of dark amusement. I turned, still holding the minor god by the throat, and froze.

Standing in the ruins of my office doorway was a man who looked deceptively casual - aloha shirt, circular sunglasses, buzz-cut hair, and a jeweled necklace that seemed to catch light that wasn't there. But the power radiating from him made my mana core hum with recognition, and when he smiled, I could feel storm clouds gathering in the distance.

Indra. King of the Gods. Lord of Heaven. War God.

And he looked... amused.

"Well, well. The infamous Leon Mishima." His voice carried a sarcastic drawl that somehow made him more dangerous, not less. "The boy who made Azazel sweat. I have to say, your reputation precedes you."

"And you are?" Oh, I knew who he was. 

"Oh, come now." He adjusted his sunglasses with theatrical flair. "Don't tell me you don't recognize the one and only Sakra? Though I suppose you humans call me Indra these days."

I slowly opened my hand, letting the minor god drop to the floor where he gasped and clutched his throat. "Let me guess - you're here about the armor."

"Partly." Indra strolled into the room, hands in his pockets, completely ignoring the destruction around him. "But mostly I'm here because these idiots"—he gestured dismissively at his subordinates—"decided to threaten my business interests."

"Your business interests?"

"The Mishima Corporation, naturally." He picked up a piece of shattered glass from my desk, examining it with apparent fascination. "We've been shareholders since your grandfather's time. Quite profitable, really."

His tone was conversational, almost bored, but I could feel the weight behind his words. This wasn't a god who'd come seeking justice for his subordinates. This was a businessman protecting his investments.

"I see. And their behavior?"

"Unauthorized. Foolish. Counterproductive." He dropped the glass, letting it shatter on the floor. "Really, sending junior gods to intimidate one of our most valuable partners? Where's the subtlety? Where's the finesse?"

Tejasvi struggled to his feet, divine blood trickling from his mouth. "My lord, he assaulted—"

"He defended his territory," Indra cut him off with a wave of his hand. "Something you three were apparently too arrogant to consider before barging in here making demands."

His smile didn't reach his eyes as he turned back to me. "You'll have to forgive them. Young gods these days have no appreciation for proper politics. They think divine status means they can throw their weight around without consequences."

"And what do you think?"

"I think," Indra said, his voice taking on a sharper edge, "that respect is earned, not demanded. Your grandfather understood that. Your father understood that. And apparently, so do you."

He gestured with one hand, and his three subordinates simply vanished - teleported away without ceremony or explanation.

"Now then," he continued, settling into one of the chairs that hadn't been destroyed, "let's have a proper conversation. About business, about politics, and about those rather impressive artifacts you've been sporting."

I studied his face, looking for the trap, the angle, the hidden agenda. This wasn't the benevolent king of myths. This was a war god who'd been playing supernatural politics since before human civilization existed.

"Coffee?" I offered, gesturing to the intact chairs near what used to be my window.

"Please."

With the armor and weapon at my disposal, I was confident I could hold my own against him if things went sideways. But as the heir of Mishima Corporation, neutrality wasn't just a preference—it was my responsibility. The delicate balance my grandfather had built depended on me not picking sides, even when gods came knocking with pointed questions about divine artifacts.

We sat in silence while Alessia - who had appeared with amazing timing and professional calm - served coffee and pretended not to notice the gaping hole in the wall or the divine being radiating power across from her boss.

"You have questions," 

"Many." Indra took a careful sip of his coffee, nodding appreciatively. "The Kavacha and Kundala are... special to us. Divine armor of the highest caliber. Created by my dear father Surya for his son Karna during that unfortunate business with the Kurukshetra War. When they disappeared after the great war..."

"You assumed they were lost forever."

"Or stolen by ambitious mortals who thought they could wield divine power." His eyes met mine directly. "Seeing them manifest around you during your battle with Azazel was... surprising.

It was quite impressive, by the way. The man's been getting too comfortable in his position. A little humbling never hurt anyone."" There was something predatory in his smile, the kind of expression that suggested he'd enjoyed watching two powerful beings tear each other apart for his entertainment.

I kept my expression neutral. "I can imagine."

"How did you acquire them?"

"My grandfather," I lied simply.

"Takeshi Mishima." Indra nodded slowly. "I see…But how did he come across it?"

I shrugged. "He never told me. Just said it was insurance, in case things went badly."

It wasn't entirely a lie. Grandfather had left me a lot of things - knowledge, connections, responsibilities I was still discovering. If he'd somehow acquired divine artifacts and hidden them away, it would fit with everything else I'd learned about the man.

"Insurance." Indra's eyes glinted with what might have been approval. "Yes, that sounds like Takeshi. Always planning three moves ahead."

"You're not going to demand I return them?"

"Return them?" Indra laughed, a sound like distant thunder that made the remaining windows vibrate. "Young Mishima, your grandfather earned the right to those artifacts through service to our pantheon."

I blinked. "He did?"

"Oh yes. During the Rakshasa uprising of 1947. Back then, Takeshi was just a fledgling businessman. Takeshi provided... crucial assistance. Logistics, weapons, safe passage for our agents." Indra's expression grew more serious. "Without his help, that conflict would have spilled into the mortal world. Millions would have died. It would have caused all sorts of unpleasant publicity."

Another piece of the puzzle that was my grandfather's life. The man had been everywhere, involved in everything, making deals and building relationships that still protected his family decades later.

We sat in comfortable silence for a moment, both of us thinking. Then Indra spoke again, his tone shifting to something more businesslike.

"I came here for another reason as well. To meet the new heir to Mishima Corporation in person."

"And?"

"The Hindu pantheon has been a shareholder in your family's enterprise since its conception," he said, studying my face. "We have significant investments in your success."

The thing is. The supernatural faction involved in my company don't actually really care who runs the company. As long as their interests are protected. The profits, the neutral ground, the services we provide.

The vampires, the devils, the fallen angels - none of them care about the Mishima family specifically. They only care about the arrangement Grandfather built.. My father understood this and adapted to it. And now it's my turn to prove I can maintain the balance.

The supernatural world functions on stability, young Mishima. Disruption is costly, change is dangerous. They don't care about your personal feelings or motivations - they only care about competence and ability.

"And your assessment?"

"You've demonstrated power sufficient to enforce your will." His eyes flicked to the hole in my wall. "You've shown restraint in not killing my overzealous subordinates. And you've maintained the diplomatic courtesy necessary for supernatural politics."

He stood, straightening his jacket. "The Hindu pantheon will continue our business relationship with Mishima Corporation. Your grandfather's arrangements remain in effect.

Welcome to the big leagues, young Mishima. Try not to get yourself killed too quickly. It would be bad for business."

After he left - through the door this time, like a civilized person - I sat alone in my ruined office, staring out through the hole where my window used to be.

The view was actually pretty nice, now that I thought about it.

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Author's Note:

Quick apology in advance if anything feels a little off from canon. It's been years since I last read the original material, and I'm currently doing a reread to refresh my memory. Honestly, most of what's in my head right now is a mix of fanfics I've been binging, so if something slips through, that's probably why. 

That said, feel free to correct me if you catch anything off, I genuinely appreciate it!

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