A/N: Heard that the novel's going to end with its 21st volume this summer, so I'm back with some more of this. There's more coming. Just trying to find the time to finish them all with all the online school stuff I gotta do.

Anyway, enjoy.

Hope everyone's all doing okay with this quarantine stuff.

Disclaimer: I don't own The Devil is a Part-Timer. Contains a few spoilers from the recent novels.

Fortunate Tragedy of Sickness

Prompt: In which Maou is sick and only the Hero is available to watch over him.

He would never admit it, but the Demon King had a rather pathetic weakness that he refused to ever let anyone know. Well, it wasn't that it was pathetic but much more so humiliating.

That one weakness of his involved a certain red head.

He would have never thought that in all his demonic years, a mere smile from a half-angel half-human could undo him as severely as hers did.

The Demon King had no idea how many times his impulse had reacted to the expression and nearly caused him to dig a grave for himself. At this point, he might as well be as good as dead.

And since he was such a pathetic excuse of a demon with such a pathetic weakness, he refused to acknowledge his reality and persistently blamed Emi inside his head for his circumstances.

His situation was made even worse on one peculiar week, when he just happened to be sick and delirious. That period just coincidentally happening to be the time when everyone was out and busy, leaving him by his lonesome self without anyone to watch over his poor state.

He had sluggishly watched as Ashiya panicked over his ill condition when he woke earlier that day and had barely caught him calling two people: one of them being Kisaki to inform her that Maou wouldn't be able to come in for his shift, and the other a mystery. The latter, he recalled, had taken quite a while to finish.

When Maou woke up again later, red had invaded his vision and all he could smell was the scent of lilac. It didn't take long for him to figure out who else was in the apartment and who his Demon General had called that morning before he left with the other residents to sort out some problems in Ente Isla.

He swore the gods were out to kill him then. Though its not as if that wasn't always on their agenda.

"You're awake."

A lucid voice he least expected to hear stirred him from his sleep. He turned his head, watching as the Hero's blurred figure stepped towards him.

"Emi," Maou rasped, his throat becoming dry as he tried to sit up.

He distinctly felt her crouch beside him while placing a hand on the back of his head to gently guide his lips towards the cup of water she held out in front of him. Weakly, he tried to take it from her, but she lightly swatted his arm out of the way, shaking her head.

"Don't," she chided softly. "You'll just spill it over if you tried."

Silently, he drank the liquid without protest.

Once the cup was emptied, Emi stood up to put it on the sink, returning with a bowl of warm soup on hand. She sat closely beside him with her legs folded underneath her, gently blowing on a spoonful of soup before holding it out towards his mouth with a deadpan look.

Maou glanced at the metal then back at her face, hoarsely inquiring, "What are you doing here?"

"Your dutiful househusband called me," she answered as if it explained the entire thing.

Fortunately, it did to Maou. A small part of him was a little dispirited that Emi didn't come in her own will though he promptly pushed that thought away.

"Of course, he did."

She jabbed the spoon towards him more intently now, a silent gesture that did not go unnoticed. "He told me you didn't eat yet."

He was glad his body heat had already gone up more than normal. "I can feed myself, you know."

She stared at him expectantly, undeterred. An unwanted feeling of sudden embarrassment churned in his stomach, making him wince.

"Are you going to eat, or do I have to force this down your throat?" she asked impatiently after a few moments of him blankly blinking at her.

Maou grumbled, his face pink, before opening his mouth to eat the soup. She looked triumphant at his obedience, compelling Maou to keep pleasing her wishes.

"You didn't have to," he voiced after a few blissful moments of being fed by the Hero.

Emi watched him, an eyebrow raised in curiosity, slowly registering what he was implying.

Then she smiled teasingly. "I may have wanted you dead before, but right now, I don't really want that in my conscience."

Maou laughed mockingly, the words already spilling out of his mouth before he could stop them, "I bet that's just an excuse to hide the fact that you actually don't want me dead."

She didn't respond, stunning Maou into an uncomfortable silence.

Abashed at her lack of denial, he cleared his throat and awkwardly droned, "Anyway, soooo…"

She brought up another serving of soup and humored him.

"So."

Maou swallowed the liquid down, changing the topic, "Where's Alas=Ramus?"

"I left her with dad," Emi said. "I didn't want her to catch your sickness just in case it was contagious."

"Are you calling me a virus?"

"I wasn't trying to." She smirked. "You called yourself that."

Maou frowned, opening his mouth to speak, then closing it, finding no fault in her statement. He pointed an accusing finger at her as she rose to bring him medicine.

"You set me up for that."

She handed him a glass of water and he chugged it down with the pill.

"No, you set yourself up for that," she countered.

"I–" Maou attempted to retort, then promptly gave up as it brought him an oncoming headache. He massaged his temple, grimacing. "…It's not nice to mess with a sick person, Emi."

Noticing his pain, Emi immediately cradled his chin to inspect his features causing his eyes to widen and his face to flush visibly.

"Sorry," she apologized sincerely, dropping her arm abruptly at the look on his face–albeit self-consciously. "I didn't take the migraine into account."

Maou coughed, unaware that he had unconsciously leaned closer towards her and that she had slightly tilted her head away from him in response, rattled.

"No, I–um. It's okay," he mumbled shakily. "It's not that bad. I can handle it."

She gave him an amused smile.

"If you say so," she said. "But why don't you get some more rest? Just call me if you need anything. I'll be washing the dishes and doing some cleaning, so I won't be far."

"You don't have to do that."

"Yes, I do," she refuted. "As efficient as Ashiya is at cleaning this whole place, there's still dust lurking everywhere around here. It's most likely been neglected because of how much time we've been spending in Ente Isla lately. I have a feeling that, and overworking contributed to your sickness."

The Demon King frowned, indignant. "I wasn't overworking."

"Maou," Emi uttered his name, her tone admonishing, causing the Devil King to still and feel as if he was a pathetic child that needed to be taught a lesson. "You've been taking more shifts at MgRonald's than you can handle. On top of that, you've also been travelling back and forth from Japan and Ente Isla to sort out and supervise the army. Any normal person would have easily gotten sick drowning from all that work. And with the situation with Chiho-chan and Suzuno… well, just admit it or not, the stress finally got you. So, just rest for a couple of days, okay? It'll make everyone feel better."

Maou saw the concern in her eyes as she eyed him and softened his posture. He considered her request for a minute, before blurting curiously, "Would it make you feel better?"

She startled at the question, watching his face–for what, she didn't know, though something told her that her response would be important to him. Emi pursed her lips and demurely replied, "I said everyone, didn't I...?"

He smiled fondly. "You did."

The red head turned her face away, feeling her traitorous cheeks heat up at the sight of the tender smile he sent her way and occupied herself at the sink with washing the dishes.

The sound of running water was the only noise that could be heard throughout the apartment as the Hero and the Demon King basked in the rare peacefulness between them.

The latter laid on his futon for a couple minutes, restless and unable to sleep before he broke the stillness to offer assistance to the Hero to entertain himself.

"Emi, let me help."

A pause, then a firm, "No, stay in bed."

Obstinate, Maou tried to stand up only to get hit with abrupt dizziness.

"Uh-oh," he muttered apprehensively, staggering. He let out a noise of alarm as the floor rapidly approached his sight. Emi turned just in time to see him trip over his own feet.

"Maou!"

She dropped the dish she was washing and rushed towards him, attempting to stop his fall but got caught in the process. She grabbed his sleeve as he stumbled towards her, making her lose her balance. Even though he dreaded the oncoming danger, Maou did not hesitate on flipping their positions in order to take the impact instead. Both closed their eyes and let out an exclamation of pain as they fell on the floor. Maou on his back and holding onto her waist with the Hero on top of him, supporting herself with her forearms on either side of his head.

Slowly, he opened his eyes and found green irises staring closely into his own. Too closely that their noses were almost touching. The proximity did more damage to his already muddled brain. It also didn't help that Emi's face had turned an adorable shade of red.

Flustered, she hurriedly tried to scramble up but immediately stopped dead at the warm and rough sensation of something being placed against her left cheek and the tightened grip on her waist.

Warily, she asked, "What are you doing?"

A shiver ran through the Demon King's spine at the intimate position and the feeling of her breath against his. He hummed absentmindedly in question.

"Your hand," Emi elaborated further, noticing his inattentiveness.

"What about it?" he whispered dreamily, glancing up at her through his bangs.

An unknown look she couldn't recognize flashed through his eyes, though if she could have described it, she would have thought he was looking at something precious and fragile that he wanted to hold with all the care he could in his heart.

The flush on her face deepened at the notion.

"Your hand," the Hero tried again timidly as he moved to gently brush his thumb below her eyes. "It's on my face."

Eyes widening in sudden comprehension, Maou froze mid caress at her words but didn't retract his hold.

"I–uh," he hesitated. "I-I was… I was just checking if I might have hit you on the way down...?"

His tone had moved from confusion towards dubiousness by the end of his statement.

"You didn't."

"Oh." Steam had evaporated from his face in mortification. "Er, well, that's… that's good."

He had yet to remove his hand, an action that wasn't overlooked by the red head. He did his best to withdraw it, but it was stuck there like glue.

Taking note of his unusual crimson complexion, Emi brushed his hair away from his face softly to observe his condition better. She placed the back of her hand on his forehead to measure his body heat.

Her eyebrows were furrowed in a cute way as she worried over him.

"Are you feeling okay?" she asked. "You were getting better earlier but you're burning up again."

Unable to form words, Maou nodded with a meek 'yes'.

The effect she had on him was crazy.

She watched his face for any lies. When she found none, she freed herself from his hold and stood to lend him a hand, pulling him up on a sitting position. With a stern glare, she directed him back to the futon.

"Just rest, Maou," she stated firmly after helping him lie down. "Let me do the work."

"But–"

"Your stubbornness almost just crushed me earlier. Do both of us a favor and rest." Then softly, she added. "Please."

"…Okay," Maou submissively responded, defeated. "But Emi–"

He grabbed the cuffs of her shirt before she could step away to return to her work. She glanced at him in puzzlement.

"What is it?"

"I might have gotten you sick because of earlier."

An awkward silence took place between the two at the reminder of the events that just transpired.

"…I know," Emi coughed out a second later, covering her mouth, red-faced, and eyes averted, looking at anywhere but him, "but I don't mind."

Though speechless at her response, all the other emotions Maou felt were overcome by the unbidden sense of possessiveness that coiled in his stomach at the image she displayed before him, and he fought hard the urge to embrace her just so he could keep it for himself.

Maou refused to let anyone else ever lay their eyes on the Hero when she was making an expression as endearing as that.

Omake:

How Emi and Ashiya's conversation basically went:

"What, Ashiya?"

"My liege is sick."

"…What does that have to do with me?"

"No one will be present to watch over him, seeing as most of us, with the exception of you and sire, will be leaving for Ente Isla for the meeting."

"Okay, and…?"

"…I can't very well bother Sasaki-san with this issue because of the diligence she's committed to her university studies and the distraction it would give her–"

"And you thought it would be okay for you to bother me?"

"–so as much as it pains me to bestow you this power, you're the only one I can count on, Yusa."

"As honored as I am to be given this… whatever it is, I refuse. Find someone else, Ashiya."

"For the first and the only time, I beg of you. There's no one else to ask. My liege is in dire need of help."

"It's just a cold. He'll get over it eventually."

"But he looks as if he's on his death bed! Please, Yusa. All you need to do is keep him from dying until we come back."

"…"

"I beg you."

"..."

"Please."

"…Fine."

"Thank you. I won't forget this kindness. Do take good care of him."

"I don't need you to tell me that."

"And he hasn't eaten yet, so please make sure–"

"Ashiya."

"Yes?"

"I get that you're only doing your job as his dutiful househusband, but I know how to take care of a sick person. Especially, Maou."

"As expected of the wife. Then I suppose I leave my liege to you. Once again, you have my gratitude."

"Yeah, yeah–wait a minute… what did you say...?"

"Goodbye, Yusa."

"Ashiya, you–!"

Beep.