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The Demon Chef

Summary:

My name is Tiffany Mako Sakuraba, and this is the story of how I managed to befriend the best of Demons and the worst of Angels.

Enjoy a chubby and non-binary culinary arts student in their last semester that's working towards owning their own cafe! However what started as a normal lunch soon changes their whole world. Well. Kind of. After all, there's not a lot that wouldn't change after accidentally summoning a Demon with condiments.

Also chapters are not beta read. So forgive any mistakes as I tend to write this at... Frankly obscene times of day.

Notes:

Hey there! So I'm Kalon and I've wandered this site quite a bit, but this is my first time posting anything.
Just a few notes on some things.
The Main Character, Mako, is half Japanese and therefore will sometimes think or speak in Japanese. I will not use Japanese characters to make it easier to read. Notes on what these mean will appear at the end of the chapter if necessary.
Also. There is no set posting schedule. Inspiration to write comes and goes, but I will do my best! I also am not sure how long this story will be.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: 1st Summoning: Turkey Sandwhich

Chapter Text

My name is Tiffany Mako Sakuraba, and this is the story of how I managed to befriend the best of Demons and the worst of Angels. For the sake of this story please think of me as Mako. I have to admit that doesn’t explain much though, does it? I should start at the beginning and with the guy that would become my best friend and protector.

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I sighed as I walked into the house I had been given in my Mother’s will I dropped my well worn and patched satchel on the equally worn out couch and walked into the kitchen. With another little sigh I pulled out some bread, turkey, cheese, lettuce, tomato, and some condiments. It was a pretty sad lunch for a student in culinary school, but I had another class in an hour. Thank the Kami that it was my last semester before graduating, then I’d finally be able to open my little café that I wanted to on the upper floor of this house.

As I was thinking I’d kept making my turkey sandwich, everything on but the condiments. Some simple mayo and dijon mustard. Something odd happened during as my thoughts wandered this time though. I’d drawn a little circle with symbols in it as I normally did with my mustard, but this time I heard a soft crackling sound behind me and felt someone else there. I’d lived on my own for years at this point and I… didn’t exactly have any friends. Acquaintances sure, but not any close friends. So turning around I blinked at the strange sight.

A tall male stood before me, his skin the color of toasted cinnamon, claws, or perhaps talons, on his hands and feet, his long flame-red hair pulled back into a braid that fell down his back, great wings like a bat’s with black bones and deep purple membranes that furled slowly against his back, gently pointed ears, and curling horns the color of obsidian that led me to study his face proper. One could almost consider his face the epitome of perfection except for the scar that ran from under his right eye, diagonally to the left and down to just below his full lips. The thing that really pulled me away from the fact that this could just be an exceedingly well done costume, though, were his eyes.

His eyes were pure black around a deep, bloody red iris with a black slit pupils that made me think more of a dragon than of a cat. That itself could have perhaps been contacts other than the fact that no contact could capture the apathy and boredom that I could see within his eyes. I, however, didn’t care that this person wasn’t human and turned back to my sandwich, pulling out two more pieces of bread.

I twisted my short body just enough to keep the, Demon I guessed, in my peripherals and prepared another sandwich, communicating with quiet words,

“Turkey?” A slow and suspicious nod from the Demon.

“Cheese?” Another nod, a little faster.

“Lettuce?” A hand giving a ‘so-so’ motion so I only put on a single leaf.

“Tomato?” A head shake.

“Mayo?” A quick nod and a flick from the whip-like black tail I just noticed as it blended in with his loose black jeans, making me grin.

“Dijon mustard?” Furrowed brows and a tilted head.

“Spicy mustard?” A thoughtful look and a little nod. I made sure to not put on too much.

After completing the Demon’s sandwich I put it on a plate, handing it to them, and motioned to the table with my own plated sandwich. I received a hesitant nod from the Demon and we moved to sit at the old table, chairs creaking quietly as we settled into them.

We ate in quiet silence, a small smile on my face. After all it was nice to eat with someone on occasion. I noticed that the Demon seemed to be enjoying his sandwich as well, a somewhat hidden smile of delight on his face. As we ate I noticed a few more things about my companion, such as the simple black tattoo curling up like smoke from below, at least I assumed below, his pant line and up to the middle of his chest. My eyes trailed up from the tattoo to his ‘shirt’. In the middle of his collarbone two pieces of material met that then steadily grew until they reached his arms and slowly loosened until at his wrists the sleeves were left open and loose. At first glance it was a black fabric, but closer studying of it, which I couldn’t help but do even though I was normally rather polite, made me think it was instead a deep purple.

I then heard a low rumble as I took a thoughtless bite of my sandwich, barely even tasting it, making a blush form across my cheeks as I looked up into the Demon’s black and red eyes, a tinge of amusement making them spark darkly. Which I thought wasn’t something that should happen, but then I recalled that they were a Demon so it made sense.

I quickly finished what was left of my sandwich, both because of the time and my embarrassment to hear more of that low rumbling behind me, which I assumed was the Demon’s form of chuckling, to feel his presence behind me as I had gotten up a moment ago to put my plate in the sink. The Demon was surprisingly quiet considering his tall form as he slid his own plate in the sink, his bare chest emanating a heat I could feel from the bare centimeters between us, the blush on my face growing.

Then the Demon stepped back and I took a deep breath, my lungs pushing gently against my binder and I also stepped away from the sink and skirting around the Demon to grab my satchel. After all. I still had classes even if a Demon had come into my house because I’d accidentally summoned them. I reached my door and turned around quickly, my black hair brushing across my neck, my voice barely a wisp of sound in the quiet, “..I have to go to class now, Sir Demon. Thank you for joining me for lunch.”

Then I was out of my door and dashing towards the bus, panting slightly as I wasn’t a runner, my chubby body proof of that. If I’d looked up when I left though, I would have noticed eyebrows raised in surprise and a small smirk tilting those scarred lips before a crackling sound sent him back to Hell.

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Later in the week I’d thought back to the Demon that had joined me for lunch as a way to avoid the anxiety twisting at my insides because of the results of a written test we’d had the day after he’d come. The professor handed me the paper, flipped over of course to avoid the teasing and jeering that still happened, and I screwed up my courage, my green-gray eyes tightly shut. Flipping it over I opened my eyes to look up in the corner where the professor always put the score only to have them pop open in disbelief and my mouth drop open in surprise.

My score was perfect. Just what I’d needed to up my grade in this class which I’d desperately needed if I wanted to be able to get the license to open and run my café. I could feel a small smile lift the corners of my lips up as I could almost swear that I heard a deep voice rumbling in the back of my mind, followed by that familiar chuckle, “Consider that payment for the sandwich. Don’t get them often after all.”

Then the voice faded and almost seemed like a daydream. Yet as I left my classroom I saw a flash of purple and a red braid disappearing with a crackle at the end of the hallway. A small smile lifted the edge of my mouth as I started to go home. I couldn’t deny the excitement running through me at the thought of the Demon coming back to my home. Yet I hadn’t even managed to make it out of building I was in before a clawed hand pulled me into an empty room.

Chapter 2: 2nd Summoning: Tomato Basil Pasta

Summary:

Who grabbed Mako in the last chapter? Hmm?

Notes:

Alright. I'm just going to say now that a panic attack happens in this chapter. Notice the updated tags, PLEASE. Mako does NOT have the best past. You have been warned.

Also. The song Mako hums later in the chapter is called Sakura Sakura if you want to look it up later.

Finally I'm going to have a random update schedule for whenever the muse strikes me and anxiety lets me. In compensation the chapters are usually going to be pretty long. For example this one is 6000+ words. So enjoy!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The clawed hand that grabbed me was not the color of toasted cinnamon, but rather the color of pale sugar cookies that sparkled with sprinkled granules of sugar on top. As my eyes continued their journey I noticed that this Demon seemed to be female and the opposite of the dark color scheme of the Demon from earlier in the week.

Where he had been dark and masculine she was light and feminine. Soft curves and light colors, from her own unclothed feet up her slim legs then to what appeared to be washed out denim booty shorts, up her flat stomach, her belly button pierced with a gleaming pearlescent ring and up further until I came to the bottom of her loose cream tank top, darker than her own skin tone, that was longer in the back and just brushing her hips, up to her full chest, I skipped looking their as quickly as possible, it was only polite, up to the pale column of her neck where a cream choker with a pentagram pendant hung. A flutter distracted me from looking at her face for the moment as I looked at her wings. They were bat like, similar to the other Demon’s, but much lighter. The bones were the same color as her shirt, a pale cream, and the membranes a pale gold.

Once I had looked at them my eyes raised up to her face. A smooth heart shape, not a spot of acne on her face, her nose a little button nose that rose smoothly up to her forehead and the only dark spot on her, her midnight black hair, that hung loose down her back and shoulders, soft and holding just a gently curve. Trailing back up her hair I looked at her full lips, just that perfect shade of petal pink to match her pale features, but turned down in a grimace of distaste, probably from the fact that she was still holding my wrist. Finally I looked into her eyes which shone a nearly unnaturally light shade of brown, bordering on gold.

I couldn’t help jumping when she spoke up, her voice musical, but filled with malice, “What does Lord Zaneth see in a pudgy little human girl that made him fulfill a wish without any payment? What’s so special about you?”

I winced and flinched back when the female Demon called me pudgy and a girl. I didn’t like being called that, “...Would please not call me a girl? I’m not a boy either…”

Before I could ask the female Demon to also not call me pudgy her grip on my wrist tightened painfully, to the point that her claws dug into my skin. I shut my eyes tightly, my brow furrowing as well as I tried to curl in on myself and I heard the female Demon take a deep breath and I prepared for the screaming that I could guess was next. I wasn’t even sure what she was screaming about.

Then suddenly I heard the crackling from when the male Demon that had appeared in my home from behind me and the pressure on my wrist disappeared. I blinked and turned to face the presence that was behind me. It was the same toasted cinnamon skin Demon from before… Now that there were two Demons I should think of something to call them. Or at least him. I didn’t much like the female. My mind leapt to his skin color. I gave a brief nod, “Cinnamon!”

Cinnamon looked at me oddly, his lips curling downwards into a frown while the female behind me screeched, “You dare to call Lord Zaneth, Cinnamon!?

I looked up at Cinnamon, apparently named Zaneth, with my green eyes in such a way that he would never deny a request, well, that’s what told me much later at least, “Can I call you Cinnamon, please?”

I saw his eye twitch and his frown grow deeper before he sighed and placed a single clawed hand over my eyes, “Yes. Now stop looking at me like that, Human!”

More screeching from behind us that Cinnamon and I just ignored, “Lord Zaneth, you cannot be serious! Letting a mere human, not even a good looking one,” I can’t deny I flinched at that, “call you such a degrading name is not worthy of one of your stature! It’s not even worthy of any Demon!”

Cinnamon didn’t even reply as he lifted his hand away from my eyes and instead placed it on his hip, “You will make me more of you food, Human.”

Then his eyes scrunched just a bit, “And tell me your name. It would get rather frustrating to call you “Human” all the time.”

I blinked and spoke a rehearsed set of lines. “My name is Tiffany Mako Sakuraba. I prefer to go by Mako and I also would prefer if you used gender neutral pronouns. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Cinnamon.”

My voice was quiet, as it always was, in fact I hadn’t actually spoken this much in awhile. It was starting to make my voice a little sore. Perhaps I should return to gesturing. No. That would make my new, acquaintance?, friend?, leave more quickly. I didn’t want that. Could I take out a notebook and a pencil from my backpack? Mmm… It deserved some thought. Maybe I shou… Oh. Cinnamon just asked me something, “I’m sorry, Cinnamon. I was lost in thought. Would you please repeat what you just said?”

He rolled his black and red eyes and repeated what he’d said, his rumbling voice sounding somewhat aggravated, “Take me back to your home and make me some of your food. Home cooking is not something a Demon gets often and I have decided I enjoy yours. So you will cook for me.”

A small grin lit my face, after all I didn’t have people over often so I didn’t get to really cook all that often, “Of course. It would be my pleasure, Cinnamon.”

I then turned to face the female that had started huffing quietly, her pale wings open partially and tilted up, when neither Cinnamon nor I would respond to her and opened my mouth. Then I felt a large hand land on my shoulder and flinched, moving away from it out of habit. The hand left my shoulder as Cinnamon narrowed his eyes just slightly in thought, his wings opening and then closing while his tail gave a quick flick, “Do not worry about Pela. We shall leave now.”

I furrowed my brows just slightly, “Are you sure? That’s not very polite.”

He just snorted, “What do I care if it’s polite or not. She is lower than I and annoying.”

At that Pela turned around, her eyes widening while her wings drooped to nearly touch the ground, “My Lord. You cannot be seriously suggesting you would prefer the company of this fat human to the company of a refined Demon such as myself!”

She had tucked her wings against her back in the process of her miniature speech, as if gathering herself up and crossed her arms underneath her chest, every part of her exuding indignance, and a bit of hurt.

I looked up at Cinnamon in ‘that way’ again and he growled, low in his throat before he spoke, his voice a loud bark that made me flinch again and his wings spreading open in annoyance while his tail knocked over a stray pile of textbooks, “Fine! She can come!”

Then he stomped towards the door, the lines of his body stiff and his wings still spread and hunched up, his tail whipping back and forth. I tried to speak up, but by then it was too late. Cinnamon’s wings slammed into the edge of the doorway and I could see his wings flinch back in and his tail stilling at the pain. He turned around roughly, and stomped towards me to grab my wrist, surprisingly gently, “Come, Mako.”

I couldn’t hide my little grin that was followed by Cinnamon’s frown and a sound of frustration from behind us as Pela’s bare feet hit the floor of the classroom.

 

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Once we reached my home, I’m not sure how as I never saw any streets or other houses, Cinnamon let go of my wrist and stomped off to the dining room chairs and Pela came through the door that led to my living room with what was seeming to be her traditional huff.

I decided to ignore her since Cinnamon was as well before walking into my kitchen pantry to grab a few of the ingredients, some oil, garlic, and pasta I’d need for what I’d planned for lunch. Then I walked over to where I had some herbs and other things growing to grab some grape tomatoes, those small little ones, and then over to my fridge for the rest of the ingredients, which was some cheese before walking over to the counter next to the stove and setting them down, from my very full arms.

Once I’d gathered the ingredients I gathered a large frying pan, a pot, a cutting board, the one I use for vegetables and tomatoes, and the utensils I needed to cook. I was just putting the rinsed off tomatoes on the cutting board when I heard Cinnamon’s deep voice behind me, “What are you making for me, Mako?”

I just smiled as I cut up the tomatoes into manageable chunks and placing them off to the side and flipped the cutting board over to mince the garlic, “My apologies, Cinnamon, but you’ll need to wait until it’s time to eat to find out.”

I could hear the sound of Cinnamon’s tail hitting the floor as I said that and I couldn’t help but giggle. By then I’d finished my prep work to start the food and so had the water for the pasta start the process of boiling. Meanwhile in the frying pan I put in a mixture of basil and olive oil, not too much, and let that also begin to warm up.

Once the water was boiling I put the pasta in and looked over at the oil mixture to see if it was hot enough. I gave a quick nod to myself and placed the garlic in, starting the process of cooking it up. I didn’t know it because when I cook I ignore most things, but Cinnamon was closely observing me. Apparently when I cook I seem very different. Confident and in control compared to my normal quiet and small demeanor.

I gave a quick stir to the pasta and turned my attention to the frying pan, mixing the garlic more firmly into the oil mixture before grinning at how it had softened and putting the cut up tomatoes and turning down the heat to let them simmer. With that I looked over to the pasta and scooped up some to check how cooked it was. Eating a noodle I took the pot over to a strainer I’d set in the sink earlier so that I could easily drain the pasta, “Cinnamon, if you’d set the table. Plates and cups are in the cabinet to your left. Utensils are in the drawer to the right of that. Three plates, cups, and forks.”

I had not let my attention wander from the food, but I heard a huff and the sound of a chair moving against the floor and I was pleased. With that I left the pasta sitting in the strainer for the moment before returning to the frying pan and nodded at the fact that the tomatoes seemed done. I grabbed the cheese and sprinkled it over the tomatoes, garlic and oil. Three types, pepperjack, mozzarella, and parmesan and began to consistently mix all of the ingredients together. Just as the cheese was going to start melting I went over the grab the strainer of pasta and brought it over to the stove to place it with the rest of the ingredients. Once the pasta was in I began to stir it and mix it with the ingredients, a little smile on my face as I worked with what I loved. Once it was near done I took it off of the heat and continued to mix for a few more minutes, “Pela! Come into the dining room, please! The food is almost ready!”

I heard the higher tones of Pela’s quiet mutterings enter into the dining room followed by the scraping of another chair against the floor just as I was done with mixing the food. I made one last stop at my herb plants to pick some basil and sprinkle it over the finished food before walking into the dining room, pan in hand along with a serving spoon.

I quickly served up the pasta onto each of the plates, making sure it would look nice in the process, and ended up smacking Cinnamon’s hand as he tried to take a bite before all three of us had food and I’d been able to sit down, “No Cinnamon! You need to wait until everybody at the table is able to eat. Be patient!”

When I’d smacked Cinnamon’s hand his wings had flared up, knocking into the chair next to him and nearly smacking me, his face one of shock before he started his own petulant mutterings to match Pela’s. Though Pela was now glaring at me.

After I’d finished serving up the food I took the pan and serving spoon back into the kitchen before returning to the dining room and taking the seat that was available which happened to be next to Cinnamon. I blinked in surprise as I sat down and looked up at him, my head tilted, for an explanation.

“I don’t like her. I don’t like you either, but you’re better than her.”

I couldn’t help but sink a little into my seat before straightening up and speaking, “So I made a tomato basil pasta to eat for lunch. Feel free to eat up.”

I then carefully took up my fork and muttered under my breath, “Itadakimasu.”

I didn’t notice, but Cinnamon had looked at me oddly when I spoke before shrugging and returning to eating his own food ravenously. Even Pela, who’d seemed very reluctant to start eating my food was eating it with a slightly awed expression. I had to admit that I had done quite a good job on my cooking this time. Maybe it was because I had company over? Probably. I wonder if they’d be willing to come to eat lunch or dinner with me more often. Oh. If they do I should probably stock up on some of my spices and I needed to go pick some things from the garden I had in the back. Maybe I should replace some of my more worn out cooking gear. Oh! And learn some more new recipes. What did Demons even like to eat? Would they like some of my more traditional Japanese food? I hadn’t made that in awhile. Too many painful memories. Would Cinnamon and Pela help make good memories? Not like… Those. Too lonely. Stop. Don’t go there. Back to recipes. They seemed to like pasta. Maybe try something from France next time? Would they like spicy? Mother hated spicy, but I’ve always enjoyed it… No. No. No. Don’t go there.

Suddenly I jumped in my seat, my eyes widening as my hands tightened into fists. Blinking I focused on what was in front of my face. A hand. Like toasted cinnamon. With claws. Right. Cinnamon. Pela. I shouldn’t go into my mind. I looked up to see the annoyed face of Cinnamon and Pela’s disgusted face, “Lord Zaneth has been speaking to you, you worthless fool. Honestly my Lord. I do not understand why you desire to speak with such a worm. They are utterly useless other than this mediocre ‘food’ that we do not need.”

“Silence, Pela.” Cinnamon’s tone was sharp as his black and red eyes pierced into Pela’s much paler golden brown eyes, “This conversation has nothing to do with you.”

Then he turned his face towards mine and his voice softened, I’m not sure why, after all he didn’t know me and didn’t care about me, “Mako. The food was quite appetizing and I expect something of a similar quality tomorrow.”

Cinnamon then stood up and walked over to my living room, how he knew where that was I have no clue, and I heard the sound of a large body plopping onto my couch and a curse, or at least I would assume it was a curse as I couldn’t understand it, probably from landing on his wings or tail wrong. It made me giggle as I stood up and grabbed both of our plates then looked over to Pela, “...Are you done with the food?” My voice was hushed, but I assumed she was as the plate was empty.

She simply ignored me so I decided to take her dishes as well so that I could wash them. Walking into the kitchen I couldn’t help the smile that lifted the corners of my face, recalling what Cinnamon said. He said my food tasted good and that he was going to be back tomorrow. With a bit more happiness in me I put the plates on the counter next to the sink and started filling up the sink basins with water, one with soap included, as I scurried around the rest of the kitchen to grab up any other missed dishes from cooking.

Soon enough I was cleaning the dishes, a soapy rag in one hand and a plate in the other, humming a japanese children’s tune. It was a habit of mine, gained from when my Mother was actually around. Her quiet and sweet voice would echo through wherever we lived for the short periods of time when she would be home. It had become a way to remember her even though my voice was much deeper and not nearly as smooth as hers had been.

“I don’t know what Lord Zaneth sees you in, you pissant.” Pela’s voice was sharp as a dagger and my head jolted up from the dishes to see her standing next to me in all of her feminine glory. Her pale wings were opening and closing in frustration and annoyance, so I kept my gaze there rather than on her intimidating face.

“My wings are not my eyes, wench .” My green eyes immediately snapped up to look at her too perfect face. I could feel my body begin to tremble from the rage etched into the planes of her face, all too understanding of why her voice, so sibilant, was merely a quiet hiss. She didn’t want Cinnamon to know she was in the kitchen. Realizing that I began to curl in closer to myself, holding the plate and rag in my hands like a shield.

Her pale pink lips curled up in satisfaction, “Good. You know just how pathetic of a little girl you are. You’re not even a proper girl. Too short and fat. Do you even have a chest underneath that ugly clothing?”

Each word she said sent a knife into me. I could feel my breathing start to get too short. Too fast. My heart was pounding. Too fast. Then she began to reach her pale, clawed, sharp hand towards the collar of my shirt, “I should check and see, shouldn’t I? Tiffany. ” She spat my name out like a curse as my eyes widened in fear and I whimpered. My knees were shaking and then her hand reached the buttons at the top of my shirt and she pulled.

no No NO NO No No No NO NO NO NO no no No No NO. Breath. Can’t breath. Breath. Calm. No. No. Can’t calm. Air. Breath. Can’t no. Pain. Cold. Smell. Sweet. Light leaving. Dark here. Sweet smell. Warm. Protected. Breath? Breath. Soft and sweet smell. Warm skin. Deep voice and gentle breeze. Hands hurt. Where hands? Wrapped around comfort. Sweet. Deep. Gentle. Warm.

“In. Out. That’s right, Mako. Follow me. Pela’s gone.”

Pela? Pela… PELA. No no no no no no no nono nononono. No Pela. Pela hurt. Scars. Pain. Pale. Like sugar. Bad. BAD. Bad. Pain. MAd. Why mad? Can’t breath. Can’t breath. Dark. Like toasted cinnamon. Cinnamon? Why? Why?

“Ah, Dammit. Come on Mako. Breath with me. Feel me breath. Breath in and breath out.”

Shaky breath. Strong chest. Deep breath from deep chest. Follow safety. Listen to safety. In and out. Breathing. Can see. Shaky. Trembling still. Face buried in toasted cinnamon. Cinnamon. Cinnamon safe. “In and out. There you go.” Voice soft. Quiet. Different from gruff Cinnamon. Like this. Slowly tilt head up. Dark face. Gentle, worried? Red and black eyes. Flame hair. Turn head, wings. Blocking world. Where my hands? Follow arms. Wrapped around Cinnamon.

Need to get out words, “...W..hy?” Voice cracked. Did I scream. Breathing. Thoughts returning slowly. Feel something wrapped around my waist and legs. Warm strong arms around my waist, warm thick tail around legs.

A deep rumbling voice pulled my head up, “Heard a something crash and a scream. Came to see what it was and saw you collapsed on the floor, curled up tightly and scratching at your arms enough to make them bleed through your shirt. You also weren’t breathing right.”

I tried to speak again and coughed before swallowing and speaking again, my voice still cracked, but at least I could think straight again, “Tha...nk ...Y...ou.”

Cinnamon grimaced at my voice and I shrank down, still not letting go of his warmth, “You need water.”

At that he carefully adjusted me so that I was cradled in a single arm and he stood up slowly, his wings still curled mostly around us, but also used to keep his balance along with his tail. I gave a little yip of surprise at the fact he could stand with my considerable weight, I was not light, but he just gave a small smirk at my surprise, closer to be what I guessed I could consider ‘normal Cinnamon’.

After he was standing I looked down and noticed the red smeared floor and shattered pieces of plate. I blinked and recalled him saying something about me bleeding. I took a deep breath and turned my head to try and look closer at my arms, I hadn’t really paid attention while I was panicking, but then a large hand was carefully placed on my chin and I was forced to look up at Cinnamon’s serious face, “Don’t.”

Then he dropped his hand to go and grab a cup from where he had earlier and walked over to the sink and carefully turned on the faucet and placed the cup under the cool stream. Once the cup was half full he took it out from the stream and turned off the faucet before turning to lean against an empty counter and placing the cup to my lips, “Drink, and don’t you dare try to move your arms.”

I couldn’t help the blush that spread across my face as I opened my lips. I was being treated like a small child and being told to keep basically embracing the Demon man I barely knew. He had just helped me through a panic attack though.

After I had finished the water I spoke softly, my voice hoarse, guess I’d screamed more than he’d said, “Why… Are you helping me so much? You don’t even like me.”

Cinnamon didn’t answer my question instead he pushed off carefully from leaning against the counter after placing the cup down and asked me a question, “Where is your bathroom? You need to wash off, but are in no condition to do so by yourself.”

The blush that had dissipated a bit while I was drinking water came back full force, “I can bathe by myself.”

“No you can’t. You can probably barely stand right now let alone clean and bandage yourself properly.” I opened my mouth to retort, “No. Don’t even try to convince me, Mako. I’m going to help you and that’s that.”
I sighed and just cuddled in closer to his warmth to which he gave a quiet grunt, “It’s down the hall just past the living room. First door on the left.”

I felt his muscles move just slightly when he nodded in assent. Far too soon we were at the door that led into my bathroom. Cinnamon very gently placed me on the lid of the toilet before turning his attention to the knobs on the bath and slowly figuring them out. He placed his clawed hand, that I now realized could be so gentle, under the stream of water to feel for the temperature. Eventually he nodded and plugged up the drain before looking around the bathroom for something. He found the something, an old bubble bath solution of mine?, and put in just enough to give the bath some foam so that once I got in he wouldn’t be able to see my body.

...Why was this Demon that I’d barely met being kinder than humans that I’d known for years? I shivered and wrapped my arms around myself, which apparently  Cinnamon noticed, “Are you that cold? I knew humans were fragile but this seems excessive.”

I only shook my head before mumbling, “No. Just… Memories that I remembered.”

At that he placed a single clawed finger on my forehead and carefully pushed it back, “Go ahead and get undressed after you tell me where I can find some replacement clothes for you.”

I couldn’t help the soft giggle that came from me, “It’s the last room in this hall. Shirts are in the closet. Pants are in the dresser. I have another binder sitting on top of the dresser.”

I was most definitely not going to have him grab me any of my underwear. With that though he left the bathroom, door open a crack, probably so he could hear me if I called out. Once he had gone though I started to work on undressing, careful to keep my gaze from my arms and hands even if it would make this difficult. However considering the work he’d gone to to keep me from looking at them I figured I shouldn’t look at them. As I was thinking that I managed to get my shirt and binder off, though it did hurt. It seemed I’d hurt myself pretty well then.

Just then I heard the soft padding of Cinnamon’s feet, it could only be him as I hadn’t seen… I stopped that line of thought as I trembled and took in a shaky breath. I heard a knock on the door, “You undressed yet?”

“No! Please give me another minute.” I could feel myself blushing more as I realized that he really was serious on helping me bathe as I focused on getting out of my jeans and underwear.

It appeared he wasn’t all that patient though as he pushed open the door anyways making me squeak before I realized he’d covered his eyes with his free hand, “Finish getting undressed. Then guide my wing,” He spread out one wing carefully, “to wrap around you since you seem so shy.”

I let out a grateful sigh as I finished getting out of my pants and underwear, awkward without being able to look at your arms and hand really and having to stay sitting, before speaking up myself, “Thank you, Cinnamon.”

He just grunted and let my hands guide his wing over, I kept my eyes up high, focusing on the top of the bathroom wall, and once I was covered I let go of the wing and was about to let him know it was alright, but he’d already opened his eyes as he walked over to me and placed my clothes on the sink counter.

Cinnamon’s arms dipped under my knees and shoulders to pick me up, making me squeak again, before just transferring me under the water. It was an awkward process, but I was eventually in the water and he was reaching up to where my bath supplies were in a little shower caddy.

“Dip your hair in the water.” His words were short, but his voice was gentle as he dipped his own hands into the water to get them wet as I did the same with my hair. He then popped open the shampoo I had and sniffed the air once it fell into his hands, “What is this scent?”

“It’s supposed to be sakura blossoms.” The blush that was already on my face, and honestly hadn’t left for awhile, grew darker. I expected him to ask more but he just hummed.

“Close your eyes.” I sighed, figuring it was pointless to argue and did as he said, though it did make me focus on the stinging and painful sensations on my arms and hands which made me wonder just how bad it really was. I’d got a glimpse out of my peripheral vision, but it didn’t really tell me anything.

Then thoughts and the painful sensation fell to the back of my mind as Cinnamon started massaging the shampoo into my hair. I’d thought that the claws would be painful on my scalp, but instead they felt so nice. As did his large, warm, and rough hands. I didn’t even notice the little sounds of pleasure I was making as he continued to massage the shampoo into my hair. If I had I’m pretty sure I would have tried to sink into the water until he left. As it was though I didn’t notice anything until I felt water running through my soapy hair along with a hand following behind the water to rinse out the shampoo.

After the shampoo was out I heard him putting the bottle back where he’d found it and a disturbance in the water from rinsing off his hands. Then I heard a bottle pop open again, the conditioner more than likely, and felt those hands back on my head making me melt again from how good they felt. I was also starting to feel a bit sleepy from the treatment I was getting. Not much later I felt the water and single hand routine, but this time also heard a quiet thump against the tiles. I didn’t pay it much mind though.

Then I felt that disturbance from Cinnamon’s hands in the water again and heard the quiet sound that accompanied the conditioner being put back. I felt another disturbance in the water, it sounded like a cloth, and the quiet, deep voice of Cinnamon, “Hold out your right arm, but keep your eyes closed.”

I gave a quiet mumble of understanding and lifted my arm, focusing on them made it hurt again, and felt the water dampened hand of Cinnamon cautiously take a hold of it to start carefully running a soapy cloth from my shoulder to the tips of my fingers. I couldn’t help the hisses of pain whenever it ran over a wound, which seemed frequent, but I couldn’t tell what Cinnamon thought of it as he just kept up his careful cleaning.

“Right arm’s done. Hold out your left.” I felt Cinnamon release my right arm as he said that and I dipped it back into the water before lifting my left arm. A slight grimace formed on my face as I thought of the pain I would likely feel again. And indeed I did feel that stinging pain that made me hiss. Thankfully Cinnamon was just as careful and the process was soon finished with that arm.

“I’m going to wash your back now. Then I’ll leave you to do your front and legs. Just don’t open your eyes until I tell you it’s alright.”

Then I felt Cinnamon’s large warm hand through the cloth on my back, a little harder than he had been with my arms. I still couldn’t help being amazed by how gentle he could be for being so large though. Especially when I was pretty sure he didn’t like me and only hadn’t killed me so I could cook for him. I couldn’t complain though. I had true company for the first time in far too long. Too soon I felt the warm hand leave my back and felt a tap on my shoulder so I lifted a hand and felt a soapy cloth be placed into.

As soon as it was in my hands and I started moving to wipe down my front I heard a shifting and assumed it was Cinnamon turning around to give me some privacy. I quickly, so as to not make Cinnamon wait, wiped down the front of my body and my legs. Unfortunately my ‘quickly’ still took time as I was exhausted from my panic attack earlier and Cinnamon’s gentle treatment had lulled me even more.

Once I was done I just let the cloth float in the water and heard Cinnamon shifting around again. I heard his arm dip into the water, I hoped he’d rolled up his sleeves or something so they wouldn’t get wet, and pull out the plug. Then I heard cloth rustling and felt a towel on my head as well as feeling a gentle breeze, probably from his wings so that I still had privacy. Or. At least that’s what I hoped had happened. That was pretty quickly wiped from my mind as I felt the gentle touch through the towel as it dried me off. I didn’t even blush too much as it went on to dry off the rest of my chubby body.

I then felt the towel be wrapped around my middle as I was picked up again just like how I’d been put into the bath and rested on the toilet seat once more, “Can I open up my eyes please?”

“Not yet. Do you have any gauze?”

“...Yes… Behind the mirror. It opens up.” I was not proud of the reasons I had gauze, but I figured since Cinnamon hadn’t said anything he didn’t care or he didn’t know what the scars were. Then I heard the creak of the mirror being opened up and heard a couple of things be placed on top of the stack of clothes he’d put on the counter earlier.

“Arm.” Cinnamon’s voice was curt. More so than he’d been since the panic attack so I nervously held out an arm. Then I realized why. Because he knew what was coming. I yelped when I felt the ointment hit my arm and the sting from it. Even with his gentle touches it hurt. It wasn’t hard to tell that he was trying to finish it up quickly for my sake, which I appreciated, but it still hurt.

“Other arm.” I put down the first arm I’d held out, careful not to let it touch the towel, and then lifted the one that didn’t have ointment on it yet. The painful process repeated on that arm but then he let it go and I put it back down. I heard the water run in the sink, probably to rinse off the ointment, before I felt him in front of me again.

“Hold up the first arm again, Mako. I need to wrap it now.” I did as he asked and it didn’t take very long for him to wrap up either of my arms. It seemed he had experience of some sort with it which surprised me seeing as he was a Demon Lord.

“Alright. You’re good to open your eyes again.” I opened my eyes to see him standing up to put away my medical supplies and blinked.

“Thank you, Cinnamon.”

“You’ve already said that. Get dressed. I’ll just be outside the door.” Then he slipped through, leaving it open just a crack again. I dressed as quickly as I could, which wasn’t very with how my arms were wrapped from my shoulder’s down to my wrists. It seemed I didn’t have any scratches on my hands at least. Probably just blood. As soon as I was dressed, he’d managed to grab some of my comfier and looser clothing which I was grateful for, I spoke up, “I’m dressed again.”

His tall form walked in and he just leaned down to pick me up and then shifted me to one arm again, his wings also moving to give us a little cocoon for which I was grateful even as I was embarrassed by wrapping my arms around him again. Cinnamon didn’t say anything however as we went into the kitchen and he got me another glass of water, still just holding it for me, before going into the living room.

I could feel my eyes steadily drooping and I was finding it hard to stay awake at this point so when I felt Cinnamon try to make me let go I groggily held tighter, “No. Stay. Please.”

I heard a wry huff and then felt myself be lifted again before I was shifted into a laying position. I felt some warm things encompass my body, but then I was out like a light. The last thing I heard as I drifted into sleep was a barely mumbled, “It was no problem, Mako.” Then the land of sleep took me.

Notes:

Japanese Notes:

Itadakimasu- It's an expression of gratitude said before meals are eaten.

Notes:

Japanese notes:
Kami- Japanese word for the gods.

I'm also going to work on making the chapters longer. Sorry it's so short to start! It's 3 pages in Word, but most chapters should be longer once more characters are introduced and interactions really start up.

Comments and constructive criticism are welcome!