Kiyomaro had, in his free time, often imagined what it would be like to visit the Makkai again. He had already been there once before, and he found it to be a rather unique and fascinating place. The fact that there was a twenty four hour time limit on his stay did damper his enthusiasm, but given any chance, he would have definitely loved to see the place again, even if it was on a time limit.
More importantly, he wanted to see his friends again.
However, he never pictured seeing everyone again ... in nothing but his boxer shorts.
The flying key had neatly ripped his pants off of him as soon as he passed through the doorway. Luckily, the ground wasn't too far away when he lost contact with his pants; he merely dropped two and a half feet, rolled once or twice, ass over teakettle, before coming to a gentle stop against a large stone pillar as his pants winged their way to freedom.
For a long moment, all Kiyomaro could do was pant, eyes wide and heart pounding, as he lay with his back against the smooth cold ground. He was in some building with a rounded dome top, on which a really detailed fresco of the Makkai world was painted. He was laying against some marble floor, and if he was to guess by how ornate the scrolling was on the pillars that held up the place, he was in some sort of really important building. The fact the place was ringed on the outside with rows and rows of rising bleachers reinforced that fact.
And, yes, there were at least a hundred eyes staring at him from those rows. Some of them looked awfully familiar.
"UNUUUUUU!"
Sounded familiar as well.
"KIYOMAROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! YOU CAME!!! AHHHH! YOU CAME WITHOUT PANTS!"
Perhaps it was a good thing that the Makkai still considered him to be bookkeeper and partner to the king. Therefore he could be excused for trying to strangle the life out of his friend without someone executing him for treason.
"YOU IDIOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT!"
Or perhaps it was because even the most powerful demons recognized their match; Gash had claimed that Kiyomaro was the real demon king when angry. "You grow heads and horns and stuff! It's worse than Brago!" had been the petrified shriek of many a young mamono.
Still, even as his hands tightened around the young king's neck, Kiyomaro had to admit he had missed all of this.
Almost as much as he missed his pants.
**** Okay, so, this is as far as I can get for a drabble?! XD Maybe you can write the rest ... I would love to read more Gash regency, and I wouldn't mind tag teaming you to do so. The world NEEDS Gash regency (IN ENGLISH!) you know.
I don't know what to say about the flying pants. Um. Yeah. 0_o. It's just ... something I could see happening in the manga, sooo ...
but yep, there you go! ONI-KIYOMARO (complete with neck squeezing and screaming action!) for JOO!!! XD Hehe, this reminds me how much I miss this fandom!!
Kiyomaro had, in his free time, often imagined what it would be like to visit the Makkai again. He had already been there once before, and he found it to be a rather unique and fascinating place. The fact that there was a twenty four hour time limit on his stay did damper his enthusiasm, but given any chance, he would have definitely loved to see the place again, even if it was on a time limit.
More importantly, he wanted to see his friends again.
However, he never pictured seeing everyone again ... in nothing but his boxer shorts.
The flying key had neatly ripped his pants off of him as soon as he passed through the doorway. Luckily, the ground wasn't too far away when he lost contact with his pants; he merely dropped two and a half feet, rolled once or twice, ass over teakettle, before coming to a gentle stop against a large stone pillar as his pants winged their way to freedom.
For a long moment, all Kiyomaro could do was pant, eyes wide and heart pounding, as he lay with his back against the smooth cold ground. He was in some building with a rounded dome top, on which a really detailed fresco of the Makkai world was painted. He was laying against some marble floor, and if he was to guess by how ornate the scrolling was on the pillars that held up the place, he was in some sort of really important building. The fact the place was ringed on the outside with rows and rows of rising bleachers reinforced that fact.
And, yes, there were at least a hundred eyes staring at him from those rows. Some of them looked awfully familiar.
"UNUUUUUU!"
Sounded familiar as well.
"KIYOMAROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! YOU CAME!!! AHHHH! YOU CAME WITHOUT PANTS!"
Perhaps it was a good thing that the Makkai still considered him to be bookkeeper and partner to the king. Therefore he could be excused for trying to strangle the life out of his friend without someone executing him for treason.
"YOU IDIOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT!"
Or perhaps it was because even the most powerful demons recognized their match; Gash had claimed that Kiyomaro was the real demon king when angry. "You grow heads and horns and stuff! It's worse than Brago!" had been the petrified shriek of many a young mamono.
Still, even as his hands tightened around the young king's neck, Kiyomaro had to admit he had missed all of this.
Almost as much as he missed his pants.
****
Okay, so, this is as far as I can get for a drabble?! XD Maybe you can write the rest ... I would love to read more Gash regency, and I wouldn't mind tag teaming you to do so. The world NEEDS Gash regency (IN ENGLISH!) you know.
I don't know what to say about the flying pants. Um. Yeah. 0_o. It's just ... something I could see happening in the manga, sooo ...
but yep, there you go! ONI-KIYOMARO (complete with neck squeezing and screaming action!) for JOO!!! XD Hehe, this reminds me how much I miss this fandom!!
-muri
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