Madness: DxD

Incident: Chain of Command

I slung the headless, blood-drenched torso of the Chimera off my shoulder, letting it collapse onto the cobbles of the Gremory Estate's rear courtyard with a wet, heavy thud. My muscles throbbed, my coat reeked.

A cold beer. A hot bath. Silence. That was the itinerary.

Instead, as I stepped through the grand double doors of the living room, my vision picked up a group of people gathered near the central velvet sofa. The air was thick with the scent of cheap tea, anxiety, and Akeno's sickeningly sweet perfume.

I paused, crossing my arms over my chest, letting the heavy tread of my combat boots announce my presence.

Y/N: What's the circus about tonight? Did someone drop a teacup?

Irina whirled around.

Irina: Y/N! Thank goodness you're back! Oh, it's terrible! Akeno is suffering from a deep, dark melancholic cloud! She's totally depressed, so we all gathered to offer our spiritual support!

I glanced past her. Sitting on the couch was Akeno, draped over a silk cushion like a wilted lily. She emitted a slow, dramatic sigh that sounded suspiciously like a staged theater audition.

Y/N: Right. Tragic. Good luck with the therapeutic intervention. I'm going to go wash bile out of my coat.

I turned on my heel, targeting the hallway leading to my room, but a heavy hand snagged the sleeve of my leather duster. I didn't need to look down to know who it was. The spatial awareness I'd cultivated over years of slaughtering people pinpointed her immediately.

Issa: Woah, hold on, old man! You can't just walk away when one of the crew is down! Help us out here!

Y/N: Issa, let go of the coat before I test your regenerative limits.

Issa: Come on! Just look at her! She's totally deflated!

I turned my head slightly, my senses dissecting Akeno in a fraction of a second. Micro-expressions, heart rate, skin temperature. Her pulse was steady, sluggish, even, her breathing shallow and deliberate. Her eyes weren't dull with grief. They were heavy-lidded with profound, unbearable boredom.

Y/N: Rias. She's your Pawn and your Vice President. Handle your staff.

Rias was reclining in an armchair nearby, swirling a glass of crimson wine with a look of utter exhaustion. She looked up at me, her eyes lingering on my face a second longer than necessary, a slight flush rising to her cheeks despite the situation.

Rias: Trust me, Y/N, I've tried. But I strongly advise you to just leave her be. She is heavily exaggerating this little crisis of hers.

Y/N: Depression isn't a joke, Rias.

I took two heavy steps forward, stopping directly in front of Akeno. I leaned down, bringing my face into her line of sight.

Y/N: Speak, Himejima. What's the malfunction?

Akeno slowly tilted her head up. Her eyes were glazed over, swimming with an unsettling, unfocused hunger. She let out another trembling sigh that practically vibrated through the floorboards.

Akeno: Ah... Y/N~... It's just... ever since you joined our little household, all our fights, all our terrifying life-or-death struggles... they've just vanished. You do all the heavy lifting. You chop the monsters, you slaughter the rogue devils... you rob me of all the pain...

She wriggled against the sofa cushions, crossing her legs tightly as a shiver ran down her spine.

Akeno: A whole week without a single blade touching my skin... without the agonizing thrill of nearly dying... I'm starving, Y/N... My body feels so hot, so hollow... it's pure torture, but the boring kind~...