CHAPTER 1

A/N – Hello everyone! I must say I'm pleasantly surprised about how much attention the 'trailer' of this fic got right off the bat, especially seeing how this is my first Blue Exorcist story ever. And to be honest, I'm always a bit nervous when writing new characters. *takes a deep breath* Here it goes, hope you guys enjoy it ;)

A harsh wind was blowing from the east, carrying with it an unsavory scent of bad food and garbage, but not cold enough to harden the mud under their boots. In the dark, the unpaved path among the uneven rows of dwellings would have been treacherous for the unadvised walker, sharp boulders dotting the sticky layer which seemed purported to suck in footwear. Konekomaru Miwa was shivering in his thin clothes – ever since he'd come to the capital this particular peculiarity of the weather was constantly taking him by surprise – the days were hot, sometimes unbearably so, while the nights were unexpectedly cold.

The young monk stopped under a pale streetlamp while icy fingers dug into his coat pocket and impatiently whipped out a piece of paper, unfolding it.

"I believe we're close now, master," he said. "The house is somewhere around here…"

A snort came in reply. "The slums for me, eh, Konekomaru?"

The boy sighed again. "I supposed that's why it's called penitence work. But there's nothing shameful in it, an exorcist's work is nothing but noble."

"Oh… so Mephisto instructed you to lecture me as well, on top of everything. Just because I burned his stupid statue! Should have done more, for good measure…"

"I-I wasn't lecturing you, master. Oh, there! There it is!"

The house they were seeking was indeed in sight, mounted as it was on a small hill of sorts, the slope covered by a modest but well tended garden. A small path of white, smooth stones led from the rusty gate up to two low wooden pavilions, winding among rich shrubbery and flowerbeds. The garden looked beautiful in the moonlight and the air was surprisingly fragrant, making the nearby stench and filth of the slums a distant memory.

"Only a Flower Priestess could turn a place like this into a piece of heaven," Miwa noticed, trotting up the path, followed closely by the cloaked figure. He warily assumed that under the large hood pulled down to his mouth, his master was still grumbling profanities.

"A Flower Priestess?"

Konekomaru stopped in front of the door, hand extended to knock and scowled, turning abruptly. "Master, have you not read-…?"

No answer.

"Well then, I shall remind you. The victim is a young girl named Shiemi Moriyama, a Flower Priestess just like her grandmother, born with the gift. The grandmother passed away a short while ago, only the mother remains. She would not give me many details, only that the girl is plagued by a demon which shows up at all hours and torments her horribly." The monk paused, sighing. "You know, master, the problem is that simple people are often reluctant to speak of… such matters. It's rather shameful, since it is believed by many that the person pursued by a demon must have done something to deserve it."

He turned and knocked and almost immediately the door was pulled aside and a sturdy woman in her forties dressed in an old kimono showed up in the frame. She was definitely expecting them and no words were passed between her and the two guests. Konekomaru showed her the exorcist pendant hanging around his neck and they were shown towards the other pavilion, more withdrawn from sight.

"She wouldn't say a word to me," Mrs. Moriyama said bitterly, after unlocking the door. Then she left them.

The two boys watched the deep darkness beyond the open door, like a gaping mouth.

"Master, are you sure you can handle-"

"Now, what the hell could happen, Konekomaru? I reckon that I took care of worse, what couldn't I possibly handle?"

"You haven't handled things of finesse, master. To fight a demonic entity on its own is one thing, but to remove one attached to a human without hurting the human…" The little monk sighed. "It takes a more meticulous and delicate approach."

Rin rolled his eyes, taking off the black cloak. He wasn't supposed to be seen, but then again, unlike his older brothers he had quite the ordinary, human appearance so it was little chance anyone would recognise him. Not in the dark and not in a place like this either.

"At any rate, I'll be right outside, master. So if you need me-"

"Yeah, I'll scream. Here, take this and put it on," the demon boy said, tossing the heavy fabric into his servant's arms."Or you'll be frozen solid by the time I'm done in there."

She lay in bed, awake yet motionless under the soft covers. The room was cold, since the window above her bed was open, but Shiemi would not move from her spot to close it. If she had, that dreadful feeling of being locked up in a coffin would come back. But she was locked in a prison anyway, and only the demon opened the door from time to time. The demon and her mother actually, and she honestly couldn't tell which was worse.

'Tonight, at midnight, an exorcist will come to see you' her mother had informed in a reproachful whisper, and suddenly a far deeper dread had gripped the poor girl. Exorcists were almost without exception priests by profession and Shiemi had always dreaded priests. They were supposed to be good people, but their faces were often hard, their eyes judging and their lips quick to utter punishment.

Perhaps that was why the demon had yet to come tonight.

The blonde made an effort to sit up, even if her aching body protested from every joint, and pulled the ragged drape separating her bed from the rest of the room. She would not even let the exorcist see her, let alone touch her. If he could, he was welcome to do his job – whatever that was – from behind the drape.

It wasn't long before light steps resounded and someone unseen entered the room, finding their way in the dark with surprising ease.

"Er… hello?" a soft and youthful voice said, unsure. "Are you in there, Miss Ma-… uh Mori-uh…"

"Moriyama."

"Right… Miss Moriyama. So, could I-?"

"No!" she yelped weakly. "I m-mean, please don't… I-If you could remain behind the drape…"

"Right… if that's what you wish."

Shiemi flinched when in the next moment a hand slipped in at the end of the drape, an exorcist pendant dangling from the long fingers. She squinted in the dark at the pale appendage, striking in its whiteness, almost too small and delicate to be a man's. Then the hand withdrew and the small stool her mother had brought in earlier creaked.

"It's alright," she said, not offering to light up the oil lamp.

"So, Miss Moriyama, could you tell me what exactly is going on?"

"No."

The blonde curled up between the sheets, with her back turned to the unseen figure. He may have been a young exorcist – probably not an aria since he was bad with names – but like hell she was going to make things easy for him. Besides, it wasn't like she could just… open her mouth and say it.

"You are hurt."

She was. And her mother patching her up after every visit, her mute face clearly spelling the unspoken hatred towards the daughter who had inherited the gift she herself had been deprived of was worse that the demon's teeth and claws.

"My grandmother used to say that this gift holds great peril… Do you believe it's true? That my gift brought this upon me?" she whispered.

"Who knows… it's your gift so terrible?"

Shiemi turned slightly and held her hand up into the stray moon rays pouring in through the window, and with a quick spell manifested a few ripe dandelion stems. The breeze quickly scattered and carried the flakes upwards, towards the low ceiling and over the drape.

"What-…? HAH! AH-CHOOOOO!"

Along with the startling sneeze a burst of blue light erupted on the other side of the cloth, making the blonde jump up from her spot, yelping as she curled up against the wall on the other side of the bed. What the hell was that?!

"Apologies," said the exorcist, as if nothing had happened.

Calming her panting somewhat, Shiemi found herself driven by a strange and unexpected curiosity, enough to move and reach for the oil lamp resting on the windowsill. A tiny flame was all it could muster, but it was enough to chase away the night shadows. After that, she crept back across the mattress and her hand moved with a will of its own, pulling the drape aside brusquely.

Whatever question had dwelled on the blonde's lips, it died unspoken.

Her eyes widened, and all she could do was stare. The exorcist was not what she expected at all, even though the pendant she'd been shown earlier now hung on his chest, over rough black garments. The boy was younger than expected – around her age, Shiemi guessed – and he was unearthly beautiful. His spiky hair was as black as the darkest night and his skin as white as the most expensive writing paper, but the most striking were his eyes – a deep shade of blue, somewhere between sapphire and paraiba gems.

"How much do you charge per night?" she heard herself ask, like an afterthought, and immediately afterwards a malicious laughter broke out in the small room. The blasted demon was there after all.

The exorcist frowned, eyes briefly shifting their focus from Shiemi's face to somewhere past her shoulder. He nodded slowly, ominously.

"O-Oh God, please forgive me!" Shiemi cried pitifully, averting her gaze and hands flying to her mouth, suddenly aware of her messy, sweat-matted hair and the multitude of bandages covering her body under the thin gown. She must have looked absolutely hideous and now the demon was putting foul words in her mouth too.

"Miss Moriyama, please look at me," the boy said and reached out to cup her plump cheek, tilting her face up. "You're tired, you have to rest now." His hand was warm against her skin, but it only lingered there for the briefest moment. "Sleep, you're safe tonight."

His thumb traced a complicated sign on her forehead and Shiemi leaned back on the pillows, feeling suddenly drowsy. The exorcist stood to leave.

"N-No, please don't-…"

"I'll be back tomorrow night. Please, get some rest, Miss Moriyama."

"Shiemi…" the blonde whispered as the door was closing in his wake, just before falling asleep.

Her mother moved stiffly around the room, placing a small bowl of rice at the foot of the bed and a bucket of clean water. Shiemi had wanted to pretend that she was still asleep, even if it was well past noon by now, but her eyes had opened and she'd seen her mother, really seen her the way she hadn't in a long while. She'd gotten dry and bitter, the joyfulness of youth gone from her step.

"You look better today," Mrs. Moriyama said, avoiding her daughter's gaze. "Might want to clean yourself up and change your clothes."

She did feel a bit better, so as soon as her mother was gone from sight Shiemi got up and reached for the bucket, peeling off the dirty gown she'd had on for more than a week now. She washed as thoroughly as the bandages would allow and rinsed her hair, then put on a clean dress.

'What do you think he has that I don't?' a hissed voice asked, followed by the familiar chuckle, and Shiemi turned abruptly, horrorstruck and nearly knocking off the bucket. But there was no one behind her.

'You dumb whore' the demon cackled, 'No one can save you from me.'

After that, hours passed in a horror-filled succession until midnight found Shiemi curled up under the covers, even more terrified than the night before. The demon could not touch her for now because of the exorcist's mark, but instead it had chosen to taunt her with poisonous words and threats.

'If only he knew the truth about you… he'd not spare you another glance, you wretched thing'

The demon was probably right.

'So I dare you to tell him.'

"I will answer your questions if you agree to answer mine."

She exhaled, staring blankly at the dark ceiling. A light breeze was coming through the small window above her bed, making the thin drape flutter slightly and blurring the shape of the person sitting on the other side.

"I can do that," the exorcist replied simply, to her complete surprise. Why would he?

"Really? You'll answer any question I ask?"

"Yes."

Shiemi found it rather peculiar that someone would indulge her in this fashion, but still, it was a welcome distraction. After all, there were only these moments when she could forget about the pain. When it would somewhat… fade in the background. She hadn't even thought about what exactly she wanted to ask the boy, other than his name.

"Then I will tell you."

To be continued