Shiro Fujimoto sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses. He normally didn't have this much trouble with filling out the post mission paperwork but nothing about his most recent mission had been anything remotely close to "normal". No, that didn't do the incident justice. An unmitigated disaster was a more apt description. He should have known that something was amiss when the Order had pulled him out of retirement and assigned him to a platoon. Just an investigation, my ass.

"It's just an investigation, Shi-chan~,"

Shiro glared at the overly flamboyant demon. Mephisto only smiled innocently at the priest. "What part of "I retired to raise my adopted sons" makes you think that I'm still on active duty?" Shiro asked, his voice only slightly betraying his irritation.

"My my~, such harsh words for a close friend, you wound me," Mephisto sighed dramatically and clutched a hand to his chest as he flopped backwards onto the leather armchair that sat next to Shiro's desk.

"You aren't here as my friend, Mephisto, so quit with your antics. We both know that the True Cross Order put you up to this." He raised an eyebrow at the demon, as if daring him to try and deny it. "I want to know what you are getting out of this as well as why I should give a damn? I'm too old and far too jaded to play the Order's unquestioning attack dog."

Mephisto smirked, "Of course they "put me up to this" as you so eloquently put it. After all, I am still here in your cozy office," With a flick of his hand he encompassed the multitude of bookcases that lined wood paneled walls. There were a few worn but comfortable pieces of furniture scattered in strategic positions around the room. A sofa by the large window, the two armchairs by the fireplace, and of course the armchair for guests next to the old oaken monstrosity that Shiro called a desk.

"If I had been anyone else you would have politely listened to what they had to say before politely turning them down and politely pushing them out the front door, all while leaving whatever poor fool who the Order decided to send none the wiser to what had happened until they were halfway back to their base." He smirked slightly at Shiro, "I believe that young Kitsuki holds the dubious honor as the fastest member of the Order to be removed from Father Fujimoto's office."

Shiro sighed and rubbed his forehead. He could already feel the star of what promised to be a killer headache. "There's a scoreboard, isn't there?" he groaned as he saw his friend's smirk widen.

"Why of course, Shi-chan~, what self-respecting group of soldiers doesn't set up a betting pool at the drop of a hat?"

This statement earned an amused snort from the priest. "Ones' with a more rigid order of command as well as those that lack a certain top hat wearing demon with a penchant for causing chaos and making bets."

The demon in question let out a delighted chuckle. "Unfortunately, I am merely the scorekeeper for this little game."

The ex-paladin raised both eyebrows in incredulity. "Should I be preparing for the end of the world? Has the day come where Mephisto would rather sit on the sidelines than participate in a betting game?" he asked in mock concern.

"And you call me dramatic," came Mephisto's snorted response. "You need not worry for the future of Assiah at least in regard to this." He pulled out an ornate pocket watch and flicked it open with a flourish. "As it stands now, I currently hold the longest time," Mephisto smiled and slid the device back into his pocket. "Besides, if I can convince you to assist in this investigation, I get to take all of the wagers."

Shiro shook his head, "You can't resist an interesting bet, can you Mephisto? You're not interested in the money, not really, you would much rather see which way the coin will land. So I'll ask again, how does my cooperation benefit you?"

"Ahh, you know me so well Shi-chan~," the demon let out a long laugh. "The answer is information. The higher ups are sending a small platoon of high-ranking exorcists to investigate a few towns and yet they are keeping the details very hush hush. Something is clearly afoot, and I want to know what."

Mephisto sighed and shifted so that he leaned forward in the chair, his boots clicking down onto the wooden floor. "They want your experience and expertise; I want a firsthand account of what takes place." Shiro wasn't convinced, not yet, but he was wavering. All he needed was a little nudge in the right direction. Mephisto weighed his options and sighed. "A favor for a favor. You do this little task for me and I will do a favor for you in the future, within reason of course."

Shiro glanced over sharply at the demon, "Are you offering me a bargain?" disbelief written clear over the old priest's features.

"Yes," The single word was growled out between Mephisto's clenched teeth.

The demon's clear distaste for something so straight forward was evident in his tone. The tension was gone in the next instant as the flamboyant smirk returned to the demon's face. "Besides, this way you don't have to explain to your little protégé who is trying to eavesdrop through your wards why you decided to stand back and let others die. Ah, if looks could kill Mephisto would have been dead seven times over.

"That was a low blow and you know it," Shiro growled.

"I merely spoke the truth, old friend," The demon offered an elegantly gloved hand, "Do we have a deal?"

Shiro Fujimoto sighed and shook the proffered hand. "Yes." He could only hope that this bargain didn't come back to bite him or those he cared for in the future.

In the end it had been easier letting Rin know that he had to go away on a business trip for a few weeks than it had to had been to tell Yukio. Rin had yelled, very loudly, before running off to the swings down by the river. Yukio had then turned from where he had been watching his twins' retreating form. The light from the doorway caught on the lenses of his glasses, effectively masking his emotions behind his eyes before the closing door cut off the light abruptly. Envy and longing flickered for an instant in the boy's too old eyes before he hid them behind a bright smile.

"Exorcist business?"

Yukio's calm voice did little to assuage Shiro's concern. He could see the invisible divide that was steadily growing between the two young brothers. Not for the first time he cursed fate for the hand it had dealt Yukio and Rin. As children of the Demon King of Gehenna, they would forever have a target painted on their backs. Both boys had lost their mother the same night that they had entered the world. Shiro plastered a wide smile on his face and ruffled his youngest son's hair.

"Smart as ever Yukio!" He exclaimed and was rewarded as the small boy's face lit up at the praise. Kneeling down, Shiro gazed solemnly into Yukio's eyes, "I am going to need you to stay here and help the brothers protect the monastery from harm." The boy nodded rapidly and gave him a small salute.

"You can count on me father! I won't let anything so much as put a scratch on the door!" Shiro smiled and gently pulled Yukio into a hug. "I knew I could count on you," he said before standing up and retrieving the luggage that he would need for his trip.

While the small arsenals worth of weapons wasn't strictly necessary as his role was simply that of a consultant, he would much rather err on the side of paranoia than to be caught without a weapon... or ten.

He glanced down at his watch. Mephisto should be here any… His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of screeching brakes as the eyesore that was otherwise known as Mephisto's personal limo slid to a halt next to the wrought iron gates. Shiro winced at the eye-bleeding shade of hot pink. I wonder how that damn car hasn't blinded half the city by now, he thought as he loaded his weapons into the trunk and the back of the limo.

It was only when the monastery had been swallowed by the surrounding skyscrapers that he allowed his thoughts to drift again. The greatest tragedy is the fact that the twin born without power was forced into the world of demons and exorcists while his brother lives in ignorance beneath a seal so that he's not killed by some exorcist with an itchy trigger finger.