Earth was on fire.
Again.
Sirens wailed in the distance, buildings crumbled, and terrified people scattered like rats from a flooding ship. Kikidori strolled through the chaos with a grin on his face, fire dancing around his fingertips, the wind at his back as if it too feared to touch him.
"Look at them," he said, kicking over a vending machine. "All this noise over a little infernal excitement."
He casually flicked a car into another, watching them explode with a grin. "I'm doing them a favor. Life's too boring without a little Hell on the side."
He sent a shockwave through the street just by snapping his fingers, cracking pavement and knocking over a city bus. He wrote *"GOD WHO?"* in burning letters on the street with his foot.
That's when it happened.
The light came.
Not soft.
Not forgiving.
But *bright*.
Blinding.
A thunderclap of holiness slammed into the sky as the Archangels descended—Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, and Uriel, clad in gold and storm, swords drawn, halos burning hotter than suns.
Kikidori blinked up at them, unimpressed. "Took you long enough."
"Enough," Michael boomed. "You've desecrated too much. Your chaos ends today."
Gabriel raised his hand, and a glowing chain shot forward, wrapping around Kikidori like heavenly vines.
"Oh shit," Kikidori muttered as the light stabbed into his skin like ice. "You guys are actually serious this time?"
"You mock creation," Uriel said.
"You threaten the balance," Raphael added.
"You pissed in the cleansing pool," Gabriel muttered, clearly still offended.
"Guilty," Kikidori smirked.
Light flashed.
He vanished.
---
Kikidori came to in a cell made of glowing white stone and golden bars, floating somewhere within Heaven's highest tower. The walls hummed with divine magic, ancient and absolute.
"Wow," he said, looking around. "Didn't know you guys had a *prison*. Isn't forgiveness, like, your whole *thing*?"
He touched the bars and sizzled with divine fire. He grimaced. "Okay, okay. No touchy. Got it."
He paced the room. No bed, no food, no toilet. Heaven didn't believe in bodily functions or comfort for demons, apparently.
"No Netflix either. This place is crueler than Hell," he muttered.
After a few minutes, he got *very* bored.
"Alright," he said, cracking his neck. "Let's test your divine security."
He flexed his fingers, inhaled deep, and let out a whisper in an old, dead language—one even the angels had forgotten. His hands burned black, and demonic sigils lit up across his arms. He pressed both palms to the golden bars.
They sizzled.
Cracked.
And *melted*.
The bars oozed like butter, dripped onto the floor, and evaporated in a hiss of light and smoke.
Kikidori stepped out, brushing his coat. "You'd think they'd *learn* by now."
He casually strolled down the heavenly corridor, pretending to whistle—if whistling in Heaven didn't cause angelic birds to fly out of nearby clouds, which it *did*. He ducked under floating orbs of light, dodged a few confused cherubs, and avoided any guards by sheer dumb luck.
Then he turned a corner… and *froze*.
There, walking arm-in-arm down the glittering crystal path, was *Charlie*—his wings buffed, his armor polished to a mirror shine, his hair slicked back—on a *date*.
With *Haruna*.
Haruna wore a soft flowing robe of white and lavender, her hair tied back in a simple braid. She was smiling. Genuinely. At Charlie.
Kikidori blinked.
Charlie blinked.
Haruna blinked.
Kikidori's voice was flat. "The *fuck* is this?"
Charlie stepped forward immediately, shielding Haruna like some knight in a love poem. "Kikidori, you're not supposed to be here!"
"Yeah, and you're not supposed to be *dating God's daughter*, but here we are," Kikidori snapped.
Haruna sighed. "It's just dinner."
Kikidori raised an eyebrow. "With *him*?"
Charlie looked offended. "Hey, I'm respectful. Kind. Emotionally present."
"And boring," Kikidori replied instantly.
"Kikidori," Haruna said sternly, stepping forward. "You're supposed to be *in prison*."
"Was. Past tense," he said with a shrug. "Turns out golden bars don't do well against ancient hellfire."
Charlie looked horrified. "You *escaped*?"
"Technically, I walked out," Kikidori said. "But don't worry, I didn't touch anything holy on the way. Except maybe a harp. And possibly a baby angel. But I think it's fine."
Haruna pinched the bridge of her nose.
Charlie whispered, "He's a menace."
"I *heard that*," Kikidori snapped.
There was a tense silence.
Then Kikidori grinned. "So. You two really a thing now? Should I start calling you Charlie-boyfriend-of-the-Divine?"
Charlie blushed. "It's *not official*—"
Haruna interrupted. "We're… seeing where it goes."
Kikidori cackled. "Oh, this is *so* good. Heaven really is falling apart if *this* is your idea of stable romance."
Haruna folded her arms. "What do you want, Kikidori?"
He paused, then shrugged. "Honestly? I just wanted to walk. Stretch my legs. Maybe break something sacred. You know. Standard demon stuff."
Charlie pulled out a small glowing sphere. "I'm calling the Archangels—"
"*Touch* that orb," Kikidori warned, "and I'll sing the hymn of the damned backwards through your *halo*, Charlie."
Charlie hesitated.
Haruna sighed again, stepping forward. "Just… go."
Kikidori tilted his head. "You mean that?"
She nodded. "Yes. Go back to Hell. Or Earth. Or wherever you want. Just don't hurt anyone right now."
He stared at her.
Then nodded, strangely quiet for once.
"Fine," he muttered. "I'm leaving. But this? This little Heaven Date episode?" He pointed between them. "Not over. I *will* bring popcorn."
And with that, he turned, cloak swirling behind him, and walked off.
"Why does he always *walk away* like he's in a dramatic movie?" Charlie whispered.
Haruna just watched him disappear down the glowing street, her expression unreadable.
The end of chapter 9.