Chapter Text
At long last, there was light breaking over the horizon. Or in this case, the stack of paperwork. Lord Diavolo took this moment to sit back in his chair and sigh out loud, unrestrained. His long legs practically sprawled out past the confines of his desk in the student council. Remarkably uncouth for a prince, he knew, yet he was mostly in guarded company now. Only himself, Lucifer, whom he struggled to see past his own towers of backed-up work and Barbatos at his side. Barbatos gave Lord Diavolo a masked disapproving look and he straightened out, rolling his stiff shoulders until the knots came loose.
"Finally done. Will you be taking the rest home with you, Lucifer? It's getting late."
His best friend grumbled something unintelligibly, to which he shot a daring grin.
"Thank you for your hard work as always!"
There were, of course, no guarantees Lucifer had confirmed, denied, or even just resolved to curse at him from beyond the great wall of papers, but whatever it was, he thought it best to simply leave things be before he got lectured instead. There were plenty of responsibilities following the enrollment of their newest human exchange student. History to scour, transcripts to read. In some cases, there were even such things as criminal histories to take into consideration. That particular subject ran Lucifer and himself nights of work when sorting out Solomon's transfer. Predictably, the angel’s transcripts came in clean and glowing, if anything the greatest headache they posed was just how clean they were.
To a demon, acts of self-indulgence were just second nature, leading to trouble. Humans may be the least extreme version of the example. But angels felt uncanny. It was disturbing how many proverbial cats in trees they tended to, so to speak.
Still, they had come across quite the enigma this time. Their newest transfer student seemed harmless enough until they actually appeared. He couldn't quite put a finger on it, but the way they handled themselves, the air they carried...especially that glint in their eyes. It was telling of a force not lightly reckoned with. Even after understanding their role in the exchange program, they handled the matter with a nonchalance and disinterest not seen in most humans when the truth of the three worlds was revealed...perhaps it was shock? They'd need more time to comfortably adjust. Or perhaps they had run the luck of simply receiving the world’s most adaptive human being? He had heard that was one of their virtues.
Throughout the drive back and even heading up the steps to his home, he could hardly stand the subtle trill to the senses. It had been so interesting to have the two angels and Solomon transfer in. Hiccups were obvious, but after a while, things calmed down. A lot faster than even he had thought. He lamented taking it for granted. Perhaps if he had been more involved with the process, he'd have more to reminisce about. But between his duties and grooming to be the next Demon Lord, he felt like he had missed out on a lot that entailed the uniqueness of the exchange program. Which is why he had taken measures to ensure this time wouldn't be the same!
After showering and readying himself for the night, he pulled out a thick journal bound in leather. He had considered just buying an average notebook, but he'd had the journal for upwards of fifty years collecting dust in the drawer of his room. What better opportunity to finally put it to use?
A while ago, he had mentioned to Lucifer how he managed to keep track of the truly meaningful moments since coming to the Devildom. Beings like himself and Lucifer were bound to live eons without issue. At some point...the days began to blend. Things he would have rather remembered went forgotten until someone brought it up with enough detail. And while he could always ask Barbatos to open a portal to a moment he wished to recapture, Barbatos wasn't that keen on misuse of his indeed, very powerful abilities.
Diavolo sighed, running his hands over the top of the old journal, turning the cover open with the slight wheeze of old leather being strained for the first time, and flipped through the expanse of clean, aged paper until he reached the other end.
Did anything of note even happen today? The exchange student had already been living amongst the brothers for a week now. He'd hardly come into contact with them. Or anyone else for that matter. He considered the days and found them all mixing as he'd feared.
On the first page, he jotted down but a single note. The date of the arrival of the second transfer student. Then found his pen stilled for ten solid minutes as he recollected nothing but monotony since.
Journaling might be more difficult than he bargained for. Perhaps he'd need a frame of reference? He shut the book and placed it on his bedside table, opening his phone to check out some Devilgram posts on journaling or perhaps a video tutorial, which he had heard was possible for just about anything these days. Before he knew it, he'd dozed off. In his dreams, he was in the dark. He saw a light like the screen of a DDD in the distance and followed towards it. There was a Black Sheep on the screen when he arrived at it at last, but when he touched the screen, it shut off and he was left in that darkness until he was roused by Barbatos' call the next morning.
It had been a while since he had even looked at the journal. It sat there untouched at the corner of his bedside table. Every day he would give it a passing glance before he left and again before he went to bed. But every time he tried to conjure up a single reason to write, he came up empty. And he knew opening the journal to see an entire page staring back at him, blanked for his writing, he'd only feel worse.
Still, he tried again one morning and managed another date, another single line. "I saw a lovely rabbit in my garden, its fur was as dark as Lucifer's and it made me smile."
He stared at the line and set the journal down. Was it him, or did that just make him feel more lonely? Did the rabbit even actually have fur that dark or was he starting to see company in things that would just as easily have nothing to do with him?
The next night, however, was different. He thought nothing of it, just a minor change to his usual schedule. He looked back on the journal but just as easily shrugged it off, cringing at the idea of writing just another single line to mock his mundane routine. Yet another day passed and something else happened. Two lines? No, it wasn't worth writing about. Until it was a week in. He arrived in his room, eyes immediately seeking his journal out, and took it in hand. Perhaps a week’s worth of things would amount to a hefty paragraph, he jokingly thought and swiped a pen across his lip.
Maybe enough to even call it his first true entry.
He scribbled down the date and marked the occasion with an official: "First entry" before going on to hastily jot down the happenings of the past week.