The common room of the House of Lamentation, usually a hub of boisterous arguments or relaxed camaraderie, was cloaked in an uncharacteristic quiet. The air, typically vibrant with demonic energy, felt heavy, thick with unspoken farewells. The reason for this pervasive gloom was clear: your departure.

Your time as an exchange student at RAD was drawing to a close, and with it, your stay in the Devildom. Lucifer stood a little apart from his brothers, his posture as impeccable as ever, yet a subtle tension in his shoulders betrayed his usual composure. His gaze, usually sharp and commanding, was softened, almost pensive, as it rested on you.

He watched your movements as you gathered your belongings, each item packed a stark reminder of the dwindling moments. For weeks, a small, velvet-covered box had rested, heavy and significant, in the pocket of his dress coat, a carefully chosen token, a silent question he'd planned to ask. The news of your imminent departure had hit him with the force of a divine smite, freezing his carefully laid plans. The proposal he'd meticulously considered, the future he'd quietly begun to envision with you by his side in the Devildom, now felt like sand slipping through his fingers.

His brothers, usually so prone to dramatic displays, were remarkably subdued. Mammon, for once, wasn't loudly complaining about money or attention; he simply scuffed his foot on the floor, his golden eyes downcast, a rare moment of genuine sadness clouding his face. Leviathan hugged one of his favorite anime figures tighter, his usual animated chatter replaced by a quiet sniffle, his gaze fixed on the floor. Satan leaned against a bookshelf, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable, but the subtle tremor in his hand as he adjusted his glasses spoke volumes.

Asmodeus had lost his usual sparkle, his vibrant aura dimmed, and he kept glancing at you with a mournful, almost heartbroken expression. Even Beelzebub ate a little slower than usual, his usual hunger dulled by the heavy atmosphere, his gaze distant. Belphagor was perhaps the most telling; instead of his usual slumber, he was awake, sitting upright, his eyes wide and clouded with a quiet, profound sadness, clutching a pillow to his chest.

The air thrummed with their collective melancholy, a silent chorus of dismay. Each brother, in his own way, reflected the deep impact you had made on their lives, and the sorrow of your impending absence. Lucifer's own struggle was internal, a silent battle against the ticking clock, the weight of a diamond he might never get to offer, and the sudden, wrenching realization of how much he truly didn't want you to leave.