It was not, Tarou reflected, unusual for Keigo to sit in the window when he
and his coach were discussing the tennis club. Tarou gave him that much latitude,
because Atobe Keigo’s willing obedience was a valuable thing. Normally, however,
he paid proper attention, no matter how he lounged.

Today he was looking out the window.

"Sensei."

Tarou arched a brow. An unusual day, indeed; Keigo didn’t often call him that
anymore.

Keigo leaned his head back against the casement with a faint thump. "Is
all this really… real?" he asked.

Ah. So that was it.

"Yukimura selling his soul to a demon," Keigo continued, tone almost
dreamy. "Tachibana practically adopting an angel. Tezuka attaching another
one. Not to mention that… person he foisted on us. And Jirou…"

Tarou sighed. He really should have expected it. Keigo was a dyed-in-the-wool
empiricist. And Hiiragizawa was hardly the sort of person to reassure an
empiricist; even when he showed his magic openly, the form of it was far
too easily attributable to hallucination. Fortunately, Tarou had an answer
for the problem. "Atobe, come away from the window," he ordered,
rising from his desk.

Keigo blinked, but slid down readily enough.

Tarou unfolded his wings. Keigo’s eyes widened and he swallowed a bit hard.
Tarou shrugged and swept his wings forward.

"You can touch them. Carefully." He needn’t have specified. Keigo
barely touched his fingertips to the leading edge before he drew back to
regain his composure. Tarou had faith in his protege’s self control, when
he chose to exercise it, and left Keigo to it, refolding his wings and seating
himself again. "Jirou does not seem to have been possessed as such,"
he supplied when Keigo had regained some color and was looking him full in
the face again. "Rather, Crowley seems to be hiding in his consciousness.
The snake has always been good at hiding."

Keigo took a deep breath and let it out, perching on one of the office chairs.
"Is this going to interfere with the games?"

Tarou almost smiled. When Keigo thought something was important, he could be
relied on to swing back to it like a compass needle. It was one of the traits
that had first recommended him to Tarou’s attention, even as a child. "I
doubt it. Not," he added, "that the others wouldn’t do it. But
the players themselves would protest. Wouldn’t they?" He gave Keigo
a significant look.

Keigo’s chin came up. "Of course."

"Well, then." Tarou folded his hands, examining Keigo. "I hadn’t
intended to mention this until you were older, but I’ve been planning to
offer you something similar."

He waited for Keigo to decide how to take that.

"Like… a contract?" Keigo asked, slowly. Tarou was pleased, though
not surprised, that he seemed wary of the idea.

"Bonds between angels and humans are rarely that structured," he
noted. "Your word and mine are sufficient."

"Why?"

A good response. Perhaps, one day, he would actually teach Keigo to curb his
impulsiveness on the court, too, Tarou reflected. It wasn’t as if the boy
couldn’t think things through when he wanted to. "When the factions
of Heaven come into conflict," he explained, "a strong will is
the most valuable weapon anyone can have. Rociel demonstrated that conclusively,
as did the Messiah in opposition to him. And while the management, as Mad
Hatter puts it, has changed, the nature of angels hasn’t. Any more than the
nature of humans."

"I see."

And he might very well see. Tarou hadn’t chosen this human for nothing. "Think
about it," he directed.

"I will," Keigo said, quietly.

When, not too long after, Keigo came to him with intent burning in his eyes,
Tarou was hard pressed not to smile smugly.

Two Great Angels, three if you counted Gabriel, plus that interfering Principality,
on Assiah, and he’d gotten his human first.

End