Disclaimer - I don't own The Devil is a Part Timer!/Hataraku Maou-sama! or any characters involved. Copyright to Satoshi Wagahara, White Fox and Funimation.

Well, this is the last Opinions one-shot. I've enjoyed writing these and thanks again to MichaelisHearts for giving me the original idea~ ^^/ I managed to get some planning done on future Misfit Together chapters, btw, so that'll still be going for a few more weeks at the very least. Thanks for reading these one-shots, lovelies~! (Btw, I'm gonna mention the 'Olba abused Lucifer' headcanon. Not in too much detail, but still more than the last time I brought it up. Just a warning)

The Fallen

He wasn't worth much. He wasn't worth paying attention to. He wasn't worth thinking about. Not now. Not anymore. He had been, once, but he'd made too many mistakes since then. He'd never make it back to where he started, so why bother trying?

Heaven wasn't what the humans believed it to be. He learned that over years of pressure and restriction. Lucifer, the highest of the archangels, lived under the forceful expectations of his kind. To be worthy, to be perfect. Always. Forever. Nothing less. To be less would be to fail. The smallest thing could tarnish his image. It became too much to bear. He didn't want to be this. He wanted to try being less. He wanted to do something wrong, he wanted to ruin his perfection. This feeling festered inside him for what seemed like an eternity before he finally burst.

He wanted out.

He found he loved destruction far more than anything he had ever experienced before. He finally felt in control of his life. And he could take control of other's lives as well. He was so sick of everything here, and he just wanted to end it and get out. If he fought, he could get out. If he fought, he could fall.

He got what he wanted. Heaven was in the past, far behind him. On Ente Isla, Lucifer was truly free for the first time. Then came Satan. He was sceptical of the young demon at first. Lucifer had known greatness once, and this weedy little goblin couldn't possibly achieve greatness. But soon he watched Satan grow into a real king. He was strangely proud of him for it. Somehow, Lucifer came to admire him. He had exceeded his expectations and there was something intriguing about him that made Lucifer curious to see where he could go.

At the same time, there was something discouraging about King Satan. Something intimidating. He became such a threat to Ente Isla, such a force to be reckoned with, that Lucifer began to feel overshadowed. Like he had been beaten. All he could think to do was to throw himself into his battles. To lose himself in the destruction he loved so much.

How could he be so stupid?

He was disgusted with himself. He let his guard down for just a moment and the Hero struck a fatal - or near-fatal - blow. He was too arrogant. He didn't think he could be defeated. Especially not by a mere human.

He turned bitter and angry.

He awoke a day later, his wound nothing but a scar and his energy sapped. Olba Meyer stood over him, watching, waiting. Lucifer didn't meet his gaze. A mutual hatred and a reluctant partnership began. But Lucifer had become apathetic. He lost all motivation. If he refused to carry out an order, he'd be beaten. So he stopped fighting. Fighting only made things worse. He might as well let Olba treat him however he wanted. Even the offer of Heaven meant nothing to him. He only accepted in the hopes it would relieve the pain. He found that if he went along with whatever he said, Olba would relent. He agreed to work alongside him. If they succeeded, he could leave this place. He just wanted to leave.

Their eyes never met. Not once.

He needs me, Lucifer reminded himself, he can't do a thing without me.

If he was still needed by someone, he was still worth something. That's what he told himself, over and over again. If only he could believe it.

He tried. He did try. He had to prove he really was worth something, not just to Olba, but to the demons who had abandoned him on the battlefield. A wicked smile appeared on his lips as he watched them run. It was so satisfying to see the fear in their eyes and to feel it giving him strength. But it was so short-lived. His self-esteem plummeted even further than before in an instant. Satan, in all his former glory, was suddenly in front of him. There was nothing he could do now.

Drained of his magic, Urushihara felt more worthless than ever. His confidence dropped more and more with every remark and every insult fired at him. But, he supposed, he deserved it. He had taken too many wrong turns and he had done too much damage to truly be a victim in this situation. He knew that. Still, sometimes he couldn't help but think that maybe he'd been berated enough. He was trying. Really, he was. He was trying to make it up to them.

He did find comfort in this world, though. Maou and Ashiya may only see it as a meaningless distraction, but the internet gave Urushihara something he needed. Reassurance in knowing he had a skill that they didn't. Solace in the relationships he built with people who understood. An escape from his past mistakes.

He wondered if the others ever really thought of him. He wondered what they thought of him. It couldn't be good. Surely not. In all honesty, he assumed they simply ignored him whenever they could.

They didn't appreciate him.

They didn't accept him.

They didn't respect him.

They didn't care about him.

They didn't want to know him.

Yet, despite these thoughts running through his head, he kept trying. It was pathetic, yes, but he still kept trying to be a part of them. And he still wanted to know.

What did they really think of him?