Convincing
The night was clear and starry – although he couldn’t see much of it. The whole world was being swallowed by this huge mass of blond bangs, everything was something between white, yellow and brown. He couldn’t really see properly, but his world had been looking like this for over ten years now, so it was somehow okay. He was a genius, after all. He always found his way.
And he knew that there were stars. Somehow. He always knew what was outside of his shelter, outside of his hair.
Thus, he also knew he was not alone.
“Whaddayawant?”
“Voooi! You’re coming with me.”
Bel didn’t turn around. He stayed where he was – on the edge of the flat roof, arms crossed on the handrail that had been built a few years ago, as many people of the Varia Squad had developed a habit of coming up here and staring at the sky.
Now, as Belphegor was the one that spent most of the time up here, there was hardly anyone who dared to join him.
Just this one person.
“I am?” he said airily. “And where’re we going?”
“North. Get Mammon’s successor.”
And that was the point where the corners of his mouth went downwards – far downwards. In fact, there had been very, very few times where Squalo had seen Bel’s mouth like this – it was as if someone had about-faced his lips. An inverse grin.
The prince turned his head over his shoulder and stared at his commander with utter disgust. “Fuck no,” he spat. “You can’t make me get this wanker. As if you weren’t able to do this shit on your own, Mister Emperor.”
Squalo’s answer was a snort and two dangerously narrowed eyes, but Belphegor didn’t care and turned his head back towards the black sky. “Forget it,” he said, this time more calmly. “I’m not going anywhere.”
There were a few seconds of silence, in which Squalo came closer and finally leaned his back against the handrail on Bel’s left. He sighed. Deeply. “It could be hard,” he said. “And dangerous. Maybe bloody. I’m not saying that we’re escorting this guy in a limousine, am I? I’m saying that we’re kidnapping him. We’re the bad guys, remember? You can already hurt him on the way back here. Or earlier, if you need to…”
“Are you trying to bait me?” Bel asked without a hint of interest.
“VOOOI! I’m trying to not beat you up, you son of a bitch! I need you to come with me, because you’re the goddamn --- WHAT?”
Bel snickered. “You said you need me to come with you. Am I supposed to wear a dress and say I will in the end, Romeo?”
For a moment, Squalo looked entirely pissed, then he regained his composure and shrugged. “Well, if that’s what you want, princess, I won’t hold you up.”
“Ah, fuck you,” Bel muttered, his slight grin being gone like it had never existed.
Squalo let out a low, annoyed groan. “Oh, come on, Drama Queen! We’re just quickly going there, killing some people, tying that moron up, bringing him here and that’s it. Voooi – you don’t even have to talk to him, you can beat him up as long as you want, if only he arrives at the Boss’s office at time. That doesn’t sound too shitty, does it?”
Bel squinted at him and watched how parts of his face appeared in the small spaces between his beloved strands of blond hair. “It does,” he finally said quietly.
And that was all.
Thus, Squalo had enough. His left hand raised and made a dull sound as it collided with the back of Bel’s head. He didn’t even hit him really hard, just hard enough so that his head jerked forward a bit. Bel couldn’t really have pain from that. He had to be used to enduring much more, which was why Squalo was surprised at first when he saw Bel’s grimacing face.
“Look at what you fucking did,” he hissed.
And then Squalo understood. There was something missing now. Something in his hair. Something that must have flown down as he had hit the prince – which was no prince anymore.
“My crown,” he sighed. “I hate you, Squalo.”
Squalo turned around and looked down the building, but of course he couldn’t see anything of the thin metal, as it was dark and the Varia castle was really, really tall. “Don’t make such a big deal out of it,” he said halfheartedly. “It was no crown anyways, princess. That definitely was a tiara.”
“It’s not,” Bel refused promptly, making himself sound like a pouting small boy. “And don’t talk about it in past tense, it’s still somewhere down there and I’ll get it back.”
The following ten or eleven seconds, it was silent, then Squalo frowned and turned his head towards Belphegor. “So?”
“So what?”
“Voooi – I thought you were going to get it back.”
“Not now,” Bel griped, resting his chin against his crossed arms. “I’m too lazy.”
“You’re too lazy to get your fucking tiara?”
“I’m too lazy to get my fucking crown, bastard.”
Squalo rolled his eyes and shook his head, all gestures which were deliberately ignored by the prince, then leaned his back against the balustrade again. “That kinda crosses the border, don’tcha think?”
“Huh?”
“I don’t give a shit when you’re too lazy to remove the corpses or the blood or even the fucking leftovers of your meals. And I don’t care if that tiara is on your head or in the gutter, but if you’re even too lazy to get that now, even though that piece of stupid trash is your one and only, you’re being fucking depressive.”
Bel held his tongue. For a moment. He turned his face away and grimaced. “No Voi here, fucker?”
“VOOOI! Don’t avoid my point! You’re useless like that! You realize the Boss is gonna kill you in a really effing ugly way if you keep continuing like that, don’t you?”
He did know. It wasn’t even a joke or an exaggeration. Xanxus would shred him to pieces if he were useless, but he wasn’t. At least that was what Bel thought. He didn’t see any change in his behavior – that was what he told himself.
Belphegor didn’t answer, just kept observing the world of blondness he could see. He was thinking about how to get rid of this annoying commander, and he was thinking about something else he didn’t want to admit to himself, which was why, in the end, his genius head was a bit too full and confused to realize the words that had come right down to his mouth.
“I can’t believe she shot herself.”
There was a short silence in which nothing happened. After Bel realized what he had said, this silence surprised him. No shouting. No Voi. No punch.
Squalo merely grimaced. “I can’t believe you’re still upset about this.”
“I can’t believe you can’t stop being a jerk.”
“I can’t believe you seriously want to be a genius.”
“What the fuck are you trying to do?”
“What, aren’t we playing one of your stupid games?” Squalo grinned, making Bel want to jump right into his face and rip his head off. “I can’t believe … you actually claim to be male.”
“Shut up,” Bel snorted, clicking his tongue. “I’m manlier than you are, Rapunzel.”
“You’re not. I ain’t got no fucking tiara, princess.”
“Well, my crown’s gone as well – anyway, screw you. I’m staying here, so get lost.”
“Bel. The fucking Boss told me to get you and start kidnapping this stupid brat. You know what’s gonna happen to us if we don’t do that, right?”
“Yeah, he’s gonna kill me and fuck you in the ass.”
Squalo gave him a very strange look and then clenched his teeth. “I’m gonna kill you.”
“You wish.”
“VOOOOOII! Just cooperate already, scumbag!” Squalo straightened himself up, getting away from the handrail and smashing his hands on his hips, and Bel was somewhat relieved that there was no sword popping up from out of his sleeve. “You know very well we need a new illusionist. And apparently that motherfucker is good enough to get Mammon’s place in an instant, we need someone like this and Mister Genius should be very goddamn aware of that!”
Belphegor turned his head to look over his shoulder at Squalo, or at anything he could see, which was really just a bit of his uniform and small pieces of a pretty angry face. He remained silent, didn’t even move one muscle of his face, and turned back towards the black horizon, which melted neatly into the dark grey lawn. There was something he wanted to say, something he wanted to talk about, something concerning Mammon’s death and the fact that she needed to be replaced. There was something he wanted to scream right into Squalo’s face for being so inconsiderate. There was something he wanted to explain, so that this moron would stop thinking he were just a pouting psychopath with a small depressive mood.
But he was not able to say a word, gazing at his hair and at the fucked up world outside at the same time, he did not utter a sound.
And as it seemed, Squalo understood the silence by himself.
“So you’re not a complete emotional cripple in the end, are ya?”
Belphegor pursed his lips and shrugged slightly. “Dunno,” he said. “I should be, right?”
“Yeah.”
He rolled his eyes, even though nobody could see that. “Wow,” he said dryly. “You’re always so awesomely helpful.”
“I’m not here to help you, smartass,” said Squalo, who had apparently cooled down again and returned to his position with his back against the balustrade. “I’m still trying to take you on that fucking mission.”
“I said I’m not going. Grab yourself some recruits and do it without me.”
“The Boss wants you to participate, so stop refusing, idiot.”
“Why should he want that anyways?”
“VOOOI! How the hell am I supposed to know? Probably because he’s drunk.”
Bel chuckled without a whiff of amusement. “Yeah, makes sense.”
And suddenly they were quiet, for a long time. Nobody spoke. Bel continued his gaze at the mixture of hair and sky, while Squalo was thinking about ways to force him into that goddamn order, squinting at him from time to time. Of course he could go without him. He could tell the Boss that their stupid prince was too depressive to get this strange boy named Fran – but he wouldn’t. The Boss would kill Bel, and probably he would kill Squalo, too, because he was unable to convince his subordinate. He could also go without Bel and lie to the Boss. But well – if you looked at it more closely, this didn’t really seem like one of Squalo’s best ideas.
And in the end, he didn’t want Belphegor to stay here and … be like that. This just wasn’t right. The whole mafia world knew this deranged guy for his grin and for his annoying good mood. He couldn’t stand here the whole night and mourn for some dead girl that had been too gutless to live on.
He needed to be normal again. And so, he needed to work.
Squalo just did not know how to tell him this.
“You think I could’ve stopped her?” Bel asked abruptly, after a few minutes of silence.
Squalo turned his head and frowned at him. “What do you mean?”
“Mammon, jackass. I mean, she… She must have planned this. I should have known. I should have done something, right? We were like … some … kind of friends. A bit. I should have stopped her. Maybe I could have ---”
“What the fuck, Bel – do you even realize what you’re saying?” Squalo sounded really annoyed now. He didn’t shout, he didn’t threaten him in any way. He was merely very pissed. “Aren’t you the genius here? The rational guy? What’s the point of thinking about anything you could have done? You sound like some whining emo girl. She’s dead, fucker. She killed herself and it was her decision. You couldn’t have done anything, you are a psychopath, you are one of Varia’s top officers, in case you’ve forgotten. Voooi, goddamnit, you killed your brother when you were fucking eight years old! People like you don’t prevent anybody from committing suicide. Don’t gimme that shit, capisce?”
“Didn’t know you could be so amicable, bunghole,” Bel growled.
“I’m just right, dickhead. The only thing you could have done was maybe to give her money in exchange for a promise she wouldn’t do anything or stuff… And you didn’t do that, so it’s pointless to think about wha… What now?”
Squalo interrupted himself as he found Bel snickering and giggling and shaking his head. “Give her money in exchange…” he repeated, grinning somewhat madly and desperate. “I guess that would’ve been the solution. You’re funny.”
For a moment Squalo just stared at him. Then he sighed and ran a hand through his long silver hair, closed his eyes for a second or two. “You get more disgusting and weird every time I look at you,” he said. “Bloody hell.”
“So who is this guy we’re supposed to pick up?” Bel asked lightly.
Squalo blinked. “Um…” he began. “His name’s Fran. He’s quite young. And he’s supposed to be pretty darn good. Good enough to start as an officer, if you can trust the Boss’s instincts.”
“And you do trust them, because you are gay.”
“Fuck you.”
Bel managed a crooked grin, before he returned to his blank face and sighed. “I don’t want anybody to replace her.”
“I know,” said Squalo, with a voice slightly too energetic to be empathetic. “But it’s not about you this time, princess. It’s about the Varia. I thought you were one loyal arse-licker.”
“I am loyal… But I still don’t get why I, of all motherfucking people, have to come with you.”
“Voooi! Because I don’t want any more whiskey in my hair, damn it.”
Slowly, Bel turned his head towards his commander, chuckled. “What the hell…?”
“Never mind,” Squalo snorted. “You keep avoiding my point. Pick up your bloody pieces and move your royal ass, come on.”
For a split second, Bel seemed to seriously think about it. Then he shrugged and returned to his position of refusal. “No. You can’t force me.”
Squalo groaned. “Just who the fuck do you think you are? Prince the Toddler? Vooi! Of course I can force you! But then you’ll end up singing your sissy Spill The Royal Blood Song again and I’m trying to avoid that crap.”
“Then you’ll have to find another way to convince me,” Belphegor mumbled into the fabric of his sleeves.
Squalo grinded his teeth and took two or three deep breaths. “What do you want, sweets? A new tiara? A pink dress?”
And with the voice of a six year old prince who had to learn for the first time what it meant to actually not get what he wanted, he replied, “I want Mammon.”
Squalo couldn’t tell whether he was actually pitying him right now or if he just acted because he really fucking wanted him to finally shut up and cooperate. He didn’t want to know it, anyway. He just did something and he was glad that they were up here, where nobody dared to take a look. Squalo let go of the handrail and took a few steps, until he was right behind Belphegor. He took a hold of his shoulders and propped him up, what caused Bel to slightly wince and squint at him, but Squalo did not care. As soon as the prince stood straight with his back right in front of Squalo’s chest, he pulled him even closer and laid his heavy arms around his torso.
Belphegor clenched his complete body, then cautiously relaxed again and didn’t move, stared, bewildered, at the inside of his bangs, blinking in confusion. He opened his mouth and closed it again without having said anything.
“We can’t bring her back,” Squalo said. His voice was still too loud for a situation like this and apparently there couldn’t be one second where he did not sound aggressive, but it was okay. His body was warm. His face was next to Bel’s and he, too, looked now at the starry sky, towards heaven, where Mammon surely was not. “And we can’t get anyone who can really replace her. But you’re the Ripper, right?” He grinned slightly, glancing briefly at Belphegor. “If you want to get well again, you’ll need somebody you can rip apart from time to time. Wouldn’t a new baby officer be the perfect opportunity?”
Belphegor swallowed hearable, then dared to lean backwards a bit, against Squalo’s chest, where he could feel a subtle, steady heartbeat. “Maybe…” he finally admitted shakily.
Thus, Squalo nodded, still grinning slightly, and raised one hand to let it run through Bel’s blond hair, making it even more chaotic, but paying attention at the ongoing caching of his eyes. “There you go,” he said, and managed to actually talk quietly – a bit. Then he chuckled. “You know, if you don’t want to forget Mammon, you could make the new member … like … wear a stupid hat or something. A frog head. Like Mammon’s Fantasma.”
Hesitating, Bel let out a low giggle. “That is one stupid idea,” he declared.
“Voooi – shut the fuck up, brat.”
“You go first.”
They both grinned, looking down the roof and standing there, not knowing who or what they were, and not caring at all. It was okay, for this one moment. It was good. Whatever it was.
“So are you coming with me or not?”
“Yeah, I guess so. I don’t want the Boss to fuck you in the ass, you know.”
“Thank you for your mercy, Your Highness. It will kill you some time.”
“That’s worth it.”
It took them ten more minutes to stop arguing. It took them five more minutes to stand there and enjoy the touch nobody would ever talk about again. It took them another three minutes to finally leave the castle to go and get the new member.
And it took them a full forty-seven minutes to find Bel’s… Well –
“It really is a crown, you know.”
“Of course, princess.”
