Untitled.
Romance/Drama/Suspense
Rated: R (just because it has intense situations and almost all my favourite
fics are rated R)

By §ylyne D. Anhem
Email: silvery_sylyne@hotmail.com

Please be nice! I do have another chapter of In The Cover of Darkness in the
works, plus I'm planning on reposting the entire fic in the selfish hopes of
attaining more reviews. ;) I suppose people are sick of waiting by now...
*sigh*... if only I could think of a name for this fic... minna, if you
review, give me name suggestions, and credit will go where credit is due, if
I choose one.



PART ONE


Groaning and rubbing his eyes, Chiba Mamoru took a deep swig of the
coffee he had just poured up. He had resorted to black after realizing it
tasted like sewage no matter how much sugar or milk he added. It would be a
long shift...

Checking his clipboard, he made his way down the 8th wing, Youths,
10-20... He reflected on how organized Tokyo's psychiatric ward was built,
separated down the middle, storey on top of storey, each wing for a different
age of patients. Glancing upward, he was disturbed to see a faint light
emerging from one of the far rooms, the light a strange appearance in the
dusky darkness of the wing. At 3 AM, no light should be on, especially since
they could only be turned on from a switch on the wall outside the room...

His pace increased and the required black shoes squeaked on the teal
linoleum as Mamoru hurried to reach the cell at the end of the hall. Clutching
at the doorway to Romm 30, he could see that it was in actuality not a light,
but a glowing, and, after several minutes of fumbling with the main keys for
the building, he finally gained access. Ripping the door open, he stepped
into a padded room, and, letting the door drift close behind him, stared in
complete shock.

An angel stood in the middle of the room...




Mamoru gaped. A short woman stood in the middle of the room, a faint
golden glow eminating from her. She wore a simple white shift that fell to
her feet, bare feet, the shift draped upon her body like it was perfectly
positioned there. Lengths of silvery hair spilled over her shoulders, onto
the floor, pooling around her feet. There must have been metres of it, his
mind realized stupidly. Delicate, slim, pale arms hung at her sides, and,
interestingly, vines of red roses grew, intertwining around her arms,
thornless, blood-red buds blooming here and there. Most shockingly of all,
arching from her back were a pair of enormous wings. The wings themselves
radiated a silver light, wings made up of long fragile silken white wings,
wings that, when spread, were sure to be triple the length of the girl.

And as she turned and looked at him, he knew, he knew, that even if
the wings hadn't convinced him, her face did. The beatific expression on her
face, pouty red lips, crystalline blue eyes fringed by coal black eyelashes,
suddenly Mamoru realized it. He had seen Heaven.

And he gaped. His mouth dropped open, and his eyes froze on her.

"Who are you? What are you doing here? How did you get in here? You
can't be in here. What are you??"

"Oh Mamoru..."

She knew his name. And she spoke it in the clearest, most angelically
beautiful voice, like stars, like moonshine, like sunbeams.

"Are you an... an angel?" Glancing around the room, his eyes fixed on
a young girl, perhaps 16, 17, asleep in the bed against the wall... a girl
who looked just like the angel in front of him, only real, a more human form,
all her exquisite features dulled, silver hair a more normal golden blonde.
And somehow, she was not quite so... all-knowing...

"I did not expect you so soon... but yes, I am an angel..."

"What are you doing here? What's your name?" He couldn't believe this.
This had to be a dream.

"You will find out... and Mamoru, angels don't have names... we lose
all mortal vanities when we die... names are simply decorative words..." An
almost wistful expression appeared for the briefest of moments before she
focussed on him again. "And now, you must go back to your office."

"But... no..." he stumbled towards her, legs unsure, and reached to
touch her shoulder, one hand clutching the soft material of her toga, the
other moving toward a wing.

"No! No, Mamoru. You will see." she stepped back, releasing herself
from his grasp. The aura about her increased in brightness, until it was
almost blinding. The young doctor struggled to keep a reign on his
conciousness, but at last, he gave up, collapsing onto the floor...







Usagi stared at the man lying on her floor, illuminated by the small
amount of moonlight allowed into her room by a tiny window, high on the wall.
He was indeed gorgeous. She had seen few memorable men in her seventeen years,
having spent seven of them in this room, and this one was by far the most
attractive. Black hair hung over his face, a tanned face that was wonderfully
shaped, high cheekbones framing the eyes, making them look hollowed and
mysterious. Lips sensuous, her eyes travelled farther downwards. The tentative
foot that had moved to the floor immediately recoiled as she noticed his
clothes... covering a well-built body was the traditional white jacket worn
by the doctors at Tokyo Waterview.

'A doctor.' her thoughts sneered. She jerked against the wall
violently as he groaned, one hand twitching. Grabbing the thick comforter on
her bed, she crawled beneath it, stretching her thin body as tight to the wall
as she could, pressing against the cold, padded surface. Hugging her pillow
tight to her body, she moved one hand to the other wrist and scratched
frantically at the skin there, turning it red with her scraping. She shivered
and closed her eyes, mechanically continuing to rip at her skin.



His mind was cloudy as he reached out mentally, trying to regain a
sense of reality. He moaned and forced himself into consciousness, the world
suddenly coming into clarity, as he attempted to figure out just where he was.
And then it all came rushing back. The light. The angel. The girl. And then an
overwhelming brilliance...
Padded grey walls and floor, a small barred window high in the room,
a round cushion, and a bed, steel frame wrapped in pillowy material, were all
that made up the small, barren room. Mamoru's eyes fixed on the bed, where,
huddled against the wall, a mass of blanket and pillow was shaking wildly.
Looking around, he discovered his clipboard, abandoned the second his eyes
had set sight on... her... Grabbing it, he flipped through the pages, finally
arriving on the name he was searching for, Room 30.



Tsukino Usagi
DOB: 06/30/85
Height: 5'2"
Weight: 119 lbs
Eyes: blue
Hair: blonde
Nationality: Japanese

Admission: 08/19/95
Parents/Guardians: Tsukino Kenji & Ikuko (Deceased)
Status: Permanent Resident


Background: Lived in Sunny Days Orphanage from age 8 to 10, after both parents died due to TB. No living relatives, admitted to Waterview, September, 95 after Sunny Days reported problems to Tokyo General Hospital.

Diagnosis: Self-destructive tendencies
Agoraphobia*
Demophobia**
Schizophrenia***
Severe paranoia

Prescription: Sedatives


His eyes flicked back up to the small trembling mass on the bed and
one eyebrow arched. The peaceful girl he had seen last night was indeed,
deluded. Rising to his feet, he took a step towards her.
"Tsukino Usagi?" donning the clinically cold doctor's voice, he
approached the bed. "Tsukino-san? Are you alright?" The jerking on the
mattress stopped momentarily before starting again. He sighed. Frustrated,
Mamoru yanked the blanket away from the girl, and gasped at the sight of her.
Hours ago, he had been blinded by the beauty of an angel, and in
comparison, the childish woman sleeping behind her had looked so terribly
mortal. Now, she looked a goddess, skin flawless and milk-white, dainty body
curled into the fetal position, one hand scraping wildly at a wrist. Charcoal
coloured eyelashes made dusty shadows on ashen cheeks and even lips sure to
ruby red were paled, as if the blood had been drained from her face. Long,
silky blonde hair was waterfalling over her back, side, shoulders, a thin
golden blanket of hair.
'"Self-destructive tendencies"' the paper echoed in his mind. Reaching
forward, he grasped the offending hand and held it still, noticing the damaged
wrist was reddened, raw, and near to bleeding.
Her breathing became shallow and finally her eyes flashed open to
stare defiantly at him. Eyes that stared into his soul.



To be continued...


* Agoraphobia is the fear of open spaces.
** Demophobia is the fear of crowds.
*** Schizophrenia, by dictionary definiton, is a psychotic disorder
characterized by delusions, conflicting emotions, withdrawal, and
deterioration of the personality.


Alrighty then... how'd you like it? I know that was a bit of an abrupt ending,
but this is a trial basis thing... I come up with these new ideas, write a
bit, post it, and if I get some reviews/requests for more, I'll write more...
*sniff* My poor fic "The Way It Began All Over Again" was completely rejected
by the public... and I was so proud... ah well... I got on a nice little
writing spurt for this one, I've been working for a couple days on it...
remember, no flames, no criticism. If you don't like it, don't review and you
probably won't see it anymore.




§ylyne.