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"It's not working!!"
Yogirt stopped his humming and opened one eye to observe the King of Wrath huffing and growling beside him. He stifled the amusement bubbling within him to focus his attention on Satan.
"Then that must mean it is working."
"What in the Lucifer's hell are you rambling about?"
"One of the goals of meditation is to connect with your emotions and feelings, to discern what is within your mind. You can't tame a beast if you don't know what it looks like."
"Fuck it, I'll just deal with it my way."
"Ah, Sir, wait—"
Satan stood up before Yogirt could say another word. But just as he turned around, the small demon hovered just inches from his face.
"If you don't mind me asking, what is your way of dealing with emotions?"
Satan considered swatting the little white blob out of his way to continue with his business but settled for an annoyed grunt instead.
"I work out."
"Splendid," The white blob exclaimed, a bright smile on his face. His voice became even more chipper.
"You're pushing the limit of your body as a means to release the excess energy in your mind. Do you know that exercising can also benefit your chakras?
"Do I look like I care jack shit about chakras?"
"Well, I-"
Yogirt was preparing to give a thoughtful response when Satan raised a hand to stop him.
"The answer is a solid no."
"Ah, got it."
Satan sighed in exasperation. In just a few strides, he was already far ahead of Yogirt. Still, the little demon refused to give up, he flapped his tiny wings with all his might in an attempt to keep up with the King.
"Maybe I can be of help, Sir?" Yogirt suggested.
"And what kind of help would you be? Buzzing around my ears like a pesky mosquito?"
Satan scoffed, clearly doubtful. However, Yogirt noticed that his pace had slowed down, so he took his chance to press on.
"I could track your progress and arrange a workout schedule for you."
"No need. I can do it myself."
"Even when you're so overwhelmed by anger that you can't think straight?"
Satan stopped in his track at those words. He glared at the smaller demon, a smoldering fire began brewing beneath the surface.
Yogirt lowered his voice, attempting to reason with him once more.
"With all due respect, Sir, the anger that resides within you is not the typical frustration seen in ordinary demons. It’s a formidable force. You won’t be able to accomplish anything while letting it running rampage like this."
"I won't allow it to control me!"
Satan bellowed fiercely, smoke swirling from his flaring nostrils. In spite of the frightening sight before him, Yogirt’s expression softened, and the smile that typically adorned his face faded into a look of concern.
"I believe you," he said gently. Satan’s eyes widened at his words.
"I can only imagine the struggles you face, living with such a powerful force inside you. Every day is a trial, and you must win every single time, or those around you will suffer the consequences."
What remained unspoken was the truth that had already come to pass—those bloodstains marked the wall.
For the other demons serving beneath the golden throne, it served as a grim reminder of the cruel whims of the King of Wrath.
For Yogirt, who had witnessed and heard more than enough in his role as a counselor, it was a reflection of a tormented soul struggling futilely to control the raging beast within.
Satan fixed a scrutinizing gaze on the little demon in front of him, suddenly reminded of his short phone call with Belphegor that lasted for two minutes. She had informed him that Yogirt was the best in his field and that it had taken her quite some time to contact him.
"Yes, Satan, he’s not a fraud. He really has a knack for sensing energy. And no, I won't terminate the contract so that you can send him back. I sincerely hope it will work out for you this time. Don’t try to deny it—I know you need help."
He remembered her drowsy voice coming through the speaker, each word sounding like a laborious task. Perhaps it really was, for her. He recalled she mentioned it was the Narcolepsy or something like that. Every Sins carried their own burdens. He had enough of his own to deal with and preferred not to pry into others’ issues.
They all had a reputation to maintain, after all.
"Sir? Your Majesty?"
Satan's intense gaze began to make Yogirt feel uneasy, and despite his attempts to call out to him, he received no response. So he couldn't help but blurt out.
"Satan!"
Yogirt tensed as Satan was snapped out of his thoughts, bracing himself to be reprimanded for using the King of Wrath's name directly but to his surprise, Satan only averted his eyes.
The Sin took a few steps forward but abruptly stopped upon realizing that there was no white blob floating beside him. He turned and saw Yogirt remained hovering in place, a look of confusion on his face.
Satan cleared his throat.
"So, you're coming or not?"
Wide, astonished eyes looked at him, and then Yogirt's expression suddenly lit up. Satan rolled his eyes, oblivious to the small quirk tugging at the corner of his own mouth.
With tiny wings flapping frantically, Yogirt flew next to Satan's side, his enthusiasm was clear as day. As they made their way to his training room, Yogirt animatedly shared his plans for the day ahead.
Amber eyes followed every little movements of the small demon, listening to every words he said.
A soft sound of fluttering wings accompanied by a melodious voice.
An unwavering presence by his side.
Maybe, just maybe, he could get used to this.