Hi there! :) Lieutenant Nightwing reporting!
I know I had posted this up a bit earlier on in the week, but I noticed that there were a few mess-ups here and there, so I thought I would fix it up and give it a better feel and flow through the storyline. I would like to thank takozu for the review on my earliest of the chapter.
Summary: She was a lonely girl, lost and longing for a purpose. That all changed when a kind priest took her in. As she grew closer to him, she found out that not everything was as it seemed. Will she stay with him, or will she run away from the darkness within him?
WARNING! The rating may go from T to M later on in the story, due to hardcore violence and gore. You have been warned!
Disclaimer: Trinity Blood DOES NOT, I repeat DOES NOT, belong to me in any way, shape, or form known to man and the universe. All rights go to Sunao Yoshida ("Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord...), Kiyo Kujo, and FUNimation Studios.
Bittersweet Sorrow
Chapter 1: The Girl Whom No One Loved
"HEY! COME BACK HERE YOU LITTLE THIEF!"
It was a dark and stormy day in the city of Rome. A little girl ran through the rain drenched cobblestoned streets clutching a small bundle to her chest. Behind her, the police and the local baker ran chasing her throughout the city.
How long will they keep this up?, she thought. Quickly, in desperation, she tried to find a place to hide. Her mind raced alongside her thin legs, which miraculously kept moving even though she was dead tired. Suddenly, her eyes fell upon an old alleyway. With a swift kick of her heel against the cobblestones, she ducked low into the alleyway and hid behind a few old cardboard boxes, holding her breath as they searched hard for her.
"No sign of her anywhere," said one of the policemen.
"When I get my hands on that filthy little--"
"That'll be enough, sir. Just return to your shop; we'll keep in touch if we catch any sight of her again."
The moment their footsteps faded into the distance, the young girl heaved a long sigh of relief. Her heartbeat seemed to go back to the synced pattern of her calm breathing. She crawled out cautiously from her makeshift fortress and peered out to make sure they were truly gone. Then, with a joyous smile, she clambered out, and took out her prize from the bakery, only to be mistaken.
I risked my entire life for this?!, she thought, a mere crust that couldn't even feed a church mouse?
"Ah, well," she said with a sigh, "Better make due with what I have for now. After all, to a starving man, even the most meager of portions is a banquet fit for royalty."
As she began to take a bite, she thought she could hear a faint whimper. She looked up and saw a little black and white puppy come from out of the shadows, a hungry look in his eyes.
"Hey there, boy," she said, "What are doing out here?"
He walked up and nuzzled at her arm. She looked at him, then at the crust of bread in her hand. He must be hungry, but I'm hungry, too, she thought, and there's definitely not enough here to feed both of us.
With a faint sigh, she handed the bread to him. "Here," she said sweetly, "It's all I have, but you could use it more than me."
With a faint yelp, the puppy took the bread and ran back off into the shadows, never knowing or probably seeing the girl ever again.
***
The rain seemed to last for hours. The little girl had made her way out and sat under the awning of a small cafe. She was only fourteen years old, with dull mouse brown hair that hung in two long bangs hiding her face and draped below her lower back in a long braid, silver-streaked steel blue eyes that were shielded by round wire-rimmed glasses, and pale skin. The only clothing she had was a dingy yellow sweatshirt that was almost too big for her with a wing motif in the middle, and a pair of tattered khaki Capri's. She wore no shoes and her thin frail body was covered in cuts and bruises from falling out of fatigue and fighting others to gain access into enemy territory. Her left arm had been badly injured a few days before, so she had wrapped it in gauze, now dirty and bloodstained from the wounds.
"Oh, sky. Why should you be like this? You haven't lost anything dear to you," she murmured while looking up to the rain cloud. Then, with tears in her eyes, she said, "I'm the one who should be crying."
It was true; she had pretty much lost all that was important to her: her family, her best friend, the orphanage that had served as her only home...everything. She was all alone in the world.
The rain continued to pour down. Her body shivered from the cold and her stomach growled loudly with hunger. All she wanted was to be loved. With a sad heart, she lay her head down on her arms and softly cried herself to sleep.
***
Suddenly, she awoke to the sound of footsteps. Terrified that it was the police back after her, she got up on her arms and prepared to run, but she winced in pain as she landed on her injured left arm. The footsteps were growing closer. She had nowhere else to run. Closing her eyes, she hed her breath and silently prayed that they would just pass her by.
"Hello there."
She gasped softly and looked up. The owner of the kind voice was a man with long silvery hair and icy blue eyes in black priest vestments who stood there in the entrance of the alleyway gazing at her. In his hand was a navy blue umbrella.
"H-Hello, sir," she whispered hoarsely.
Slowly, he bent down to get a closer look at her. Terrified, she jumped back a bit and tried to scootch away. She had never been very fond of people, not for a long time.
"No, don't be afraid," he said gently, "I'm not here to hurt you."
He held his hand out to her. She looked at him with intention, and then resided back towards him. It seemed really odd to her that this man would continue to stay around her. He had no business to converse with the likes of her, anyway.
"What are you doing out here all alone?" he asked.
With tearful eyes, she answered in the same hoarse whisper she had given him before, "I...I'm lost."
"You're lost?"
She nodded and sniffled. He gave her a kind smile and brushed her tears away. "Well, there's no reason to fret, little one," he said, "I can help you find your way home. I'm sure your family's worried sick about you being out here all by yourself."
"I don't have a family," she replied, this time, the tears streamed heavier, "and I don't have a home." Sobbing, she murmured, "Please don't trouble yourself, Father. I'm not worth it."
How many times had he heard that? It made his heart grow heavy, for he knew it was wrong; and with each time he heard it, his heart grew heavier. It pained him to hear people say that, and for some reason, to hear this child say this made his heart feel like a lead weight hanging by a thin thread. How much pain have you gone through to feel this way?, he thought as he watched this poor child cry, Who has convinced you that you have no meaning in life? For they are wrong...you are worth so much in the eyes of the Lord.
"No," he finally said after a long silence, "that's not true."
He placed an arm around her shoulders and said, "You're worth more than you think. I know, deep down in my heart, that you are a sweet and precious little girl worth more than all the treasures in the world. There's no reason to feel this way..."
She didn't say anything. Her tears were still flowing, but she begin to feel uplifted, like a burden had been lifted from her back. "Do you really think so, sir?," she asked.
Smiling kindly, he nodded in reply. He then lifted himself up and held out his hand to her. "Come with me," he said, "I'll show you..."
She looked at him, wondering if it was all a lie, or a true blessing. Hoping that he was telling her the truth, she took his hand and felt him pull her up. His grip on her small wrist was strong and firm, yet gentle and soft. She didn't know whether to call him an angel or a man. She then stood there waivering a bit from weakness. What he saw astonished him: she was so frail and thin, he could almost see her skeleton draped underneath her taut pale skin through the grimy clothing that she wore. Her bony wrists were like twigs ready to snap in even the slightest of breezes and her ankles were no different.
This child's going to keel over soon, he thought, there's no way she could survive for so long in such a condition. It truly is a miracle that she has done so.
She suddenly began to sway and her eyes showed a bit of a hazy look in them. Faintness took over her whole body. She was beginning to fade. Though she wore glasses, her vision was becoming blurred from fatigue, and her breathing was troubled. The priest looked at her worried and said, "Are you alright?"
"I...I...Ah!"
Slowly, her legs gave way beneath her and she fell to the wet ground in a heap before she could even say anything else. Though the rain had faded into a drizzle and was beginning to clear off, she became soaked from the puddled up rainwater that remained n the cracks of the cobblestones. The priest rushed over to her, worried that he had predicted the truth in his thoughts. With a gentle hand, he tenderly lifted her fragile wrist; her pulse was normal but descending. She was not going to make it. "Stay with me," he pleaded, almost on the verge of tears himself, "Please stay with me."
She barely said anything, nor made any slight movements to give him a sign. Dear Lord of heaven and earth, he prayed, don't let me lose her.
"Father Abel Nightroad, status report?"
He gasped and turned towards the monotone voice. Another man, this time with chestnut brown hair, and eyes the color of black coffee, towered over him. The one called "Father Nightroad" lifted himself up and brushed off a bit of dust from his mantle.
"Oh, I'm alright, Tres," replied Father Nightroad, "but I'm afraid this little one is not."
Tres walked over to the child and lifted her head up. Giving her an analytical glance, he scanned over the child's pale face. "Her vital signs are beginning to fail due to malnourishment," he said as he lay her back down on the ground, "She does not have too long."
"I know..." replied Father Nighroad sadly.
"It is best for us to continue on our way back and just leave her here to die."
"Die?!," yelped Father Nightroad, "Tres! We can't do that! She's just a little girl!"
"What use do we have of her?," asked Tres sternly, "None of known origin, Father Nightroad. We must proceed."
Abel stayed there stubbornly as Tres walked off. Watching her, he noticed that she was still breathing, just barely though. He then thought about something, and then said, "Tres, you don't think Lady Caterina would mind if I brought her back to the Vatican with us? We have been in need of new recruits lately."
Tres looked over at him and at the girl. His keen hearing picked up faint heart rhthyms from her chest, signaling to him that she could still make it if they hurried. Then, he said, "Acknowledged, Father Nightroad."
With a grateful smile, he turned and picked up the child, cradling her up against his warm body. He could hear her lightly breathing against his cassock. Good, he thought, she just fell asleep. She gripped at his mantle and faintly nuzzled up against him for warmth. With a light chuckle, he thought, She certainly is cute when she sleeps.
Tres looked over at the child and gave what looked like a faint smile as well, but his comrade couldn't exactly tell. After saying a prayer of thanks, Father Nightroad then looked back at the sleeping child.
"Don't worry little one," he murmured sweetly, "You'll be home soon."
ChapterSong: "In the Shadow, In the Light" by ENIGMA
I really hope this turned out okay. The original was good, but just needed a little work :) Please tell me if it went out okay!
Again, thanks to takozu for the earlier review! Kudos! X3
Reviews and contructive criticism are always welcomed and appreciated. The reward of virtual chocolate chip cookies will be presented to whomever presents me with one, the other, or both :)
Lieutenant Nightwing, signing out!