No One's Ever Gonna Hurt You, Love

Burden of Love

    To say that Demon Bull King was relieved to rejoin the land of the living was an understatement, but upon arriving at his home, he had questions. In fact, he had questions the moment of his return seeing his wife and son being backed only by a legion of bull clones. Flattering but what of the rest of his famed army, made of only the strongest, most worthy demons?

    As he trotted along the corridors of his fortress, there was only the crackling of lava to fill the silence. No scurrying of servants through the halls, attending to his every need or nervously skirting around him. Not a soul was seen.

    He peered into the throne room, remaining at the threshold. No advisors and no courtiers. In fact... he nudged the door open further. While the layout of the room remained exactly the same as before he was locked away, his sharp eye took note of minute details. Certain pieces looked newer, scrubbed clean or replaced. Particular tiles in the floor were no longer cracked with age while others he knew that were not cracked before his departure had fine lines of stress running through them. He even turned to scrutinize the door. Splintered scratches had been sanded down and painted over.

    The soft padding of footsteps alerted him to the presence of another and he swung his head around to stare down the approaching person.

    His son jerked to attention as if just remembering his father now lived with them. "Father!" 

    Demon Bull King grunted in acknowledgement, resuming his inspection of the throne room.

    After a beat of silence that stretched on for too long, Red Son wrung his hands nervously, trying to strike up conversation, "Is the throne room to your liking?"

    Instead of answering, Demon Bull King asked, "What happened here?

    "W—what do you mean?"

    The ruler closed his eyes and inhaled deeply as if trying to get a glimpse of what happened. "It feels... different."

    While Red Son grappled for a response, a breeze swept through the halls, signaling the arrival of Princess Iron Fan. She coolly replied, "I could not have the throne room fall into disrepair while you were gone."

    Demon Bull King might've been away from his wife for 500 years but he still knew her well enough to tell when she was withholding the whole story. He glanced to his son who averted his gaze. They were not telling him something. He wanted to challenge this, but his wife's steely expression was a warning, a warning that he wisely heeded.

    Still, that didn't stop him from seeking out his son later to try and make sense of all these puzzling details. Red Son balked at his line of questioning, resorting to the excuse that he didn't truly remember any events well since he had been quite young.

    Demon Bull King eventually plucked up the courage to dare to question his wife, but just like their son, he could tell she was deflecting the questions.

    But there came a night where she could no longer keep the truth from him. The large demon was typically a very sound sleeper but was awoken by a sharp gasp from his wife. Before he could blearily reach over to her, she was gone from the room. Curious, he wandered after her, finding her peering into their son's room. The tension in her shoulders visibly eased as she observed him sleeping undisturbed.

    The last vestiges of sleep fell away from Demon Bull King as she quietly shut the door, wiping away the beginnings of tears with the sleeves of her robe. "Princess Iron Fan?!"

    She disappeared back to their room in a whirlwind, kneeling on their bed and staring at their rumpled duvet. Her husband appeared a moment later and she felt his questioning eyes upon her. He was as stubborn as she, and he would not drop the subject now.