Title: Broken Faith Prologue Arc.
Summary: Heaven was no longer the same after God disappeared. Angel Sanji becomes a scapegoat for the Worlds' Government and a warning for others. Left to die as a human in Aokigahara, he meets a man who helps him change his fate and the fate of the world.
Disclaimer: Oda's.
Genre: Angst/Supernatural/Drama
Pairing: Zoro x Sanji.
Settings: Real World, Heaven, Hell and worlds between.
Rating: Mature.
Warnings: torture mental as well as physical, future MxM action, blood, deaths & resurrections, twisted thoughts about beliefs, religion, or lack of God thereof may happen. I mean no harm and do not wish to offend anyone, just tell a story about the struggle of people with their faith when the God is no more. Even so, nothing would seem as simple anymore for all of them as the chapters will go by.
Note I: This would have never looked so good if it wasn't for the great help of my awesome beta-reader karios_kaeris (lj) who corrected this fic. Thank you my dear for your help, I greatly appreciate it! *bows down*
Note II: Edited on late March 2012. This fic officially 'completed' and dubbed as a Prologue Arc. It's a prelude to the actual action. That's why I want to lock it away, starting fresh as soon as I write new chapters. I appreciate greatly your encouragement and support. I hope I won't disappoint when I get back to the flow of things.
Apple.
…
"There are some things that can only be reborn by being destroyed… A gift from a demon…half-breed… unrequested, maybe unnecessary, but given gratuitously nonetheless… Sanji received the gift of life and the angel felt the gradual speeding of his heart from a faint beat to more steady one. He was once again reborn, but with heavy restrictions placed on him and no safe place to go anymore. Exiled and with a soiled body and soul… forever and ever."
…
-xx-xx-
Chapter I
Two deaths.
-xx-xx-
Drip, drip, drip…
The room was dark. The torches in the hallway were the only thing that illuminated the space, casting grotesque shadows that swam and battled each other across the damp stones that formed the stony chambers. The appearance of the place suggested the location to be someplace underground, since the stones were being embraced and twisted out of their place by humongous rotting roots coming from the trees above.
Drip, drip, drip…
The guards doing the 15 minutes intervals were changing their watches, always checking into the dark room and standing once again in front of the farthest and deepest place in the whole ….Heaven. Heaven or, for the one chained in this cold, dump and foul-smelling place, Hell.
Drip, drip, drip…
The prisoner opened his eyes slightly. He tried to distance himself from all the things that had happened …hours, days or years ago... he wondered which one would be easier to forget…even for a brief moment. He winced internally because he knew. Knew that no matter how many times he tried, he could never forget for more than those few minutes of meditation he could indulge himself in. Sleep never came, or more precisely, he didn't need it to survive. In those moments he was cursing his origin and immortality that made all outside sensations that much more intense and concentrated.
Drip, drip, drip…
He listened to the calming dripping sound, and when he was bored he counted. Counted those seconds that were turning into eternity...
Humans had it easy, he mused. They could sleep all they wanted; and eating, working, and having fun consumed most of the short time they had to live. But the thing that made him the most jealous was that they were creatures allowed to have a few hours of blissful obliviousness while sleeping. How he wished he could experience even few insignificant hours of that and simply…forget.
Drip, drip, drip…
He also wondered how it was like to die…like those humans did. Die and never be cruelly brought to life by 'God's power' again or more like 'God's curse' that was immortality for angels. He was so far away from them now. So far away from those who could be called his rightful children, or just his wicked creations to pass the time, to watch over them and…control. Which one was the truth? He often wondered.
Everything was perfect until The First Great War.
Then came the betrayal.
The Dark Century brought destruction in a scale yet unknown. Heaven turned into a battlefield drenched with the blood of God's loyal, faithful and – man of them kindhearted followers – Angels. Creatures that were created to sing songs about God's glory, serve Him and also take care of his newest creations: Humans. The latest being the most loved by the Almighty Himself, more even than His 'firstborn' children. So weak -hearted, but with the gift of free will, freedom of choice and…immortal soul.
Blasphemy. Some called it that. Why did He love them more than his first, perfect breed? And He even wished for His angels to serve those uncultured and stupid… humans. The term soon started to be said with venom, becoming a word meant to insult.
And so angels rebelled against their Father.
A Century of death and gore was lived in Heaven and on Earth humans without angels' guidance and God's protection became ruthless, evil and fought amongst themselves as much as their elder brothers and sisters in God's realm.
Blood flowed like rivers. Both kind Angels and humans prayed for the suffering to end.
And so God answered.
With Rage.
He killed all the Evil on Earth leaving only good people alive. And all the Evil in Heaven, He crushed with his angered glare and banished to the farthest, deepest, evilest and without even a peck of Holy light place - Hell. He created it Himself.
Those angels fallen into the farthest abyss of Impel Down Valley started to be known as demons.
They became insane without God's presence in their proximity, which for them was necessary and essential. Without God's love they were nothing, only shadows of their previous glory. Regrets consumed their hearts, often making them cry for their sins that couldn't be undone. They became evil and eternal darkness was their home, prison and safety.
They took God's love for granted and for that He showed them what happened when He was underestimated. After executing the punishment He decided to leave all of his children to their own volition, wondering how they were going to cope when He stopped being the center of the World for them all and disappeared.
He took with him all saints, archangels and closest entourage and left the known realm, no one knowing where they had gone or for how long.
According to Heaven's calendar it's been eight centuries since then…
After chaos erupted 20 angels from the highest guards of Heaven established a new government that would become the main power and law over all the universes. Even though angels were the ones who felt the impact of God's absence the most, His other children on Earth become abandoned as well since the souls of the dead humans still needed guidance to the afterlife. This was the time when the new war begun.
A war over the new potential fighting power: Human's soul. Unbreakable. Immortal. Even stronger than those of Angels for being created after the image of God Himself. Humans were weak, but their souls in the afterlife held incredible powers and capabilities.
Enormous quantities of free man-power. Not using this 'gold mine' sounded ridiculous, but there was a catch. The strongest, most ruthless and intelligent ones were often also the evilest and for that they went to Hell. That brought another problem: Hell's army was getting stronger and they had started to wander freely into the neutral territory. It was unnerving because this territory called The Calm Belt was the border that separated all worlds. Beasts had nests there, but many strong demons managed to come across and into the real world.
Angels had to retaliate. They used the holy substance – the seastone - and traveled those passes on ships without being sensed by the monsters.
The angels and demons revealed themselves to humans and started their recruitment. Even the evil ones had the opportunity to reach Heaven if they managed to be useful in the fight against those from the Impel Down Valley.
The once holy land became polluted by sinners. It was there that the second biggest revolt since the creation of humans happened. Heaven was split in half and New God's Army was created, consisting of honest souls and loyal believers who wanted to overthrow the World's Government that had brought forth this new order.
They were also called The Revolutionaries.
The real world became a mix of the many powers coexisting in it, and it was almost normal to see someone with white or black wings amongst humans. Many of them strengthened their faith by seeing that these creatures were real and many lost it when they discovered that God was no longer interested in the fate of mankind. They felt betrayed, and next came the anger, hatred and the thirst for blood. Hell's army rejoiced.
The New Era had begun…
Drip, drip, drip…
Sentenced to two consecutive deaths by having his wings ripped off: that was his punishment. But the trial was still in process, and this sentence was just an appetizer of what was to come.
New guards were changing their watch. A new pool of fresh blood replaced the dried one that marked the place of his first death. Death…what a joke. It still hurt like a bitch, but the knowledge that he couldn't truly die left him with a totally different view of the whole dying aspect.
Dying only to wake up and relieve the same nightmare once again was discouraging to say the least, and also totally boring and predictable for those 'used to it'. That's why humans were weak. They feared death because they were only mortals and who knew what waited for them at the end? But if you knew what was going to happen then your view on the gore of this will change. That's why it was an usual thing to 'prepare' the one being judged by giving him a taste of what was to come.
Still, getting his wings cut off was a worse pain in the ass than he thought it would be. He looked down. He had spent enough time in the dim light now to be able to adjust his eyes and his hands were becoming numb. They were bound tightly above his head by shackles and a long chain attached to the ceiling two meters over his head, his body suspended in the air that way.
He was stripped of all clothing except for a pair of ripped and tattered pants, leaving his feet and torso bare, which had made him shudder from cold at the beginning of his imprisonment. Now he didn't mind it as much, though he still could hear his chains chattering due to the shudders he still got from time to time. He had stopped trying to suppress them and focused on other 'interesting' sensations. Like the warmth on his back, for example.
Warmth, or rather a burning wound with warm blood oozing slowly from the gash in his skin. One of the most painful things you could do to Angels was have their wings ripped off or burned, since it was the most sensitive part of their bodies. He was glad for the distraction though, this way he could focus on the path the blood made while traveling down his body and stop minding the flow of time so much.
His back was soaked with dark-red liquid artistically painting his pale body and making it glisten in the dark every time he started turning around in the air. But he had stopped moving since he had fixed his 'uncomfortable' position some time ago. He felt drowsy. The pool under him was getting bigger and bigger, and the consistent flow of his own precious blood dropping from the tips of his toes didn't seem to be stopping anytime soon.
The dark and dirty stones had stopped 'drinking' his blood a long time ago. To think that all the large cracks in them had been filled so soon was a bit unnerving, but also strangely fascinating. He blinked few times to focus his sight a little more. If he started to wonder about such things then his second death was closer than he had thought. The only thing he hated to look at were his own torn and broken wings near his left side. Luckly he was spared the gruesome picture thanks to the fall of his hair, but with his right eye uncovered he could see the white and previously beautiful feathers now stained with blood and dirt and scattered everywhere around. Like that fucking chicken he had once seen being ripped apart by some rabid dog.
Despite his weakened state he still managed to feel pangs of rising anger at the comparison. He was not weak! But he had to accept the judgment of his 'crimes' or become like those fallen ones. Exiled, banished, and what's worse: with no way of returning to Heaven and be witness of God's final return.
He wasn't stupid enough to let his only happiness and hope in life be taken away from him. He had lived long…too long. Seeing the centuries pass and more of his fellow angels doubt the Almighty hadn't made him loose his faith. He still believed there would come a time when He would reign again, that's why he did the things he believed were right. No matter what new laws were dictated, he would continue to obey those God had created himself and not this imitation of a government that had words like 'peace' and 'love' on their lips while killing their brethrens. He had his own morals and he was going to judge by himself all those who had taken his punishment into their hands. He would get on with his life in this twisted world once again and wait patiently for his creator's return.
With this last thought in his mind he let the drowsiness swallow him whole, taking him into the darkness of the state that most living creatures called death
…
"Tch. Couldn't they deal with it in a cleaner way?" - huffed one of the guards sent to the underground for a clean up. He was short, chubby and wore a black mask over his head that didn't cover neither his eyes nor mouth. He cast a look at the 'battlefield' that was the floor of the chilly room and wrinkled his nose at the smell of the already decomposing limbs and drying blood.
"Don't whine. At least you didn't see when they were trying to rip them off of him. After struggling for a few hours they finally decided to just chop them off with an axe. What a fierce little bastard…" – Said the other one while shaking his head. He was taller and bulkier than the other one, but wore the same outfit along with black gloves, boots and fitting dark clothes, as if it were the only dress-code allowed. - "I swear to God if he weren't one of those silent and peace-loving souls, he'd have been at the top of our troops fighting battles against those fuckers from Impel Down since long ago."
"Sssh! D-don't say that! It's forbidden to swear on H-his name!" – hushed the other one holding his index finger over his lips in a 'hush' gesture and automatically stopping the movement of his hands that until that moment had been busy with sweeping the dirty floor. He then looked around as if fearing that something was going to strike and punish them for saying God's name unnecessarily.
"…" – His companion also looked around uncertainly, but seeing that nothing happened he snorted and straightened his back, pushing up his chest and holding his head high as if daring anything to come and get him. - "Humph, He is gone. Did you forget that? Now we don't have to worry about saying anything without thinking."
"…huh, y-yeah. J-just …habit." - Answered the other still having this eerie feeling that someone was looking at them and hearing everything they were saying or even thinking.
"Oi! Get to work or we'll be here forever and it's starting to stink worse with each passing second. Why the hell didn't they call us earlier?" - Grumbled angrily the taller one as he started sweeping the feathers and blood while the other poured water on the floor.
"They needed to wait for him to resurrect himself." - Said the shorter one and cursed when the dirty water splashed on his new shoes.
"I know how it works!" - said the other with annoyance and snorted teasingly when he saw his companion lamenting his shiny shoes getting a little blood on them. That would teach the bastard to stop trying to be 'fashionable' and wearing new leathered shoes while at work. They were no high-ranks for God's sake. - "Just …couldn't they call us while the blood was still fresh? Geez, only more work for us" - He scrubbed harder on the floor, but things only started to look even worse with the mix of dark-red blood, dirt, and the now twisted and Angel's feathers. He grunted and swallowed the excess of saliva that came with the images of him barfing on top of it all. God, he hated his work. - "So… what happened with him next?" - He asked wanting to distract himself.
"Hm, with whom?"
"The blond one, stupid! Who else?" - He shouted angrily at the absent-looking face of the miserable fat corporation
"All right, no need to yell" - he snorted. It wasn't like the tall prick was the only one wanting to think about something else while cleaning this shit up. - "He was cleaned up, brought before the council of the 5 elders and his crimes are being debated over at the moment." - He told him.
"Hum, is that so? Think he's gonna come out of it…alive?" - the muscled one snickered at his own attempt of a joke. Killing an Angel. That would be an accomplishment. Though there were always exceptions and many sick and horrible ways to torture both the mind and the body. He shuddered at the thought. The law was getting harsher and harsher with each passing decade and it was no joke when someone, even before being sentenced, had been given two deaths to live through already.
"Haven't heard what he did. They don't say anything to us the lowers, but it must have been something awful for them to have prepared him already, so I can only think of the worst." - The last sentence was muttered, the shorter one lost in contemplation about what could this Angel have done to receive the highest priority and be sent to face the harshest trials before the council of the 5 elders. They were the ones who had ruled Heaven for centuries now and even the thought of them making a judgment about someone could freeze the blood in veins of the one being brought before them.
"But he is one of those peaceful-living, right?" – The other frowned at this mixed information he had managed to overhear while he was watching the struggling and swearing blond Angel while he said he hadn't done anything wrong and nothing God Himself wouldn't be proud of.
"Who knows, this is not the Heaven we once knew anymore. One Angel or hundreds of them dying a few times or disappearing completely isn't uncommon anymore. He'll be soon forgotten and at least we get to see a nice show on the public plaza when they read out his sentence." - Mused the fat one going back to work with a new determination to finish it soon so he would be able to see the spectacle.
The taller one, also seeing no point in dwelling on that anymore, went back to cleaning and putting all of the chopped limbs and feathers into the trash bag so the awful smell of rotting flesh wouldn't be as much torture for all of his senses
"Tch. At least there'll be some enjoyment instead of only more work for us. Good thing that we have shifts in the underground instead of on the streets. At least we don't need to make it shiny and clean because of the darkness. Even if we do it no one will see the difference." – He snorted while rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand to make his mask wipe some of his sweat. His facial features were hidden, but he frowned with disgust at the thought of his body acting so human-like. It was the curse of the low-level Angels, mixed ones, and …sinners. To be compared to those new additions to their fighting power was revolting, but it couldn't be helped. The borders between worlds could just as well be considered as non-existent. The real world wasn't something only for the pure ones to go into and be the Guardian Angels for humans. And the same was true the other way around. Sinners were brought to this Holy Land and the air and ground was polluted with more free or evil ideologies. He resisted the urge to spit and swallowed the lump in his throat when he remembered…better times, when God was still there.
"Still those cleaners from the above have it easy. They don't have to work here in smelly, damp, and cold fucking Underground."
"..uhn, but blood and other parts of the body are more visible in the daylight." - He was shaken from his thoughts by his partner's voice however, he went along with a new train of them and couldn't resist pointing out the obvious.
"…huff, ok, but that's the only minus." - He agreed after a pause to consider the more discouraging option of cleaning everything spotless and he decided he preferred the smelly and cold Underground.
At least he could laze here a bit and slack off when no one was watching. He snorted to himself. He dated to admit it, but his job was an easy one compared to what others had to do, though the working conditions weren't the best ones, but who was he to complain?
It was also better not to stand out too much. There wasn't a God here anymore and praises and prayers were better off being whispered. When out of the houses the loud praise should be said only about new order, or you could be given a taste of death at any time by being hanged. And while doing it they'd tell you that it was to harden the citizens' souls in case of invasion of those fallen ones from the Death Valley or Impel Down, whatever they called it nowadays.
He sighed and after looking around and nodding with satisfaction at the better state of the floor compared to when they first saw it, he said:
"That's enough. Soon there will be interrogating sessions done on this floor and no matter how many times we do this there's never going to be enough. Let's go before we miss the show above."
"Un." - Agreed the taller one and grabbing the trash bags on his way out they went to the spiral stairs and started walking to the large doors waiting at the end, separating the warm and bright world above and the one down there. Only a faint imitation of the Hell, but good enough (or bad enough) for Heaven's new standards.
-xx—xx-
Chapter II
Condemned
-xx—xx-
For the first time in almost two years Luffy awoke with a shuddering gasp.
In the next moment his body reacted of its own free will, probably from surprise more than anything else; rising so abruptly that he struggled to keep the bile back. His throat felt like it had been repeatedly scrubbed with sandpaper, or like he had been running a marathon without having a drop of water in his mouth. The taste that came after trying to swallow was metallic and almost sickening. He slid down to the end of the bed. He had been sleeping just a moment ago, so now he was trying to understand what the hell had just happened.
He only noticed how bad the shuddering was when he tried to get up and go to the bathroom to quench his thirst. He stared in wonder at his hand that looked like it was vibrating on its own. He clenched it in a fist and taking some shaky but determined steps he followed the path of the red carpet along the hallway. He didn't need to switch on any lights to know where to go. Firstly because he knew his apartment like the back of his hand, and secondly because his vision was far superior to that of any human. Still, neither the familiarity nor the inhuman sight helped him to reach his destination without incidents. Even Luffy, or more because it is Luffy we're talking about, could be clumsy. He was a pro at tripping over his own legs on flat grounds, and that was precisely what happened in his way to the bathroom. He bounced a few times, rolling on the floor like a bowling ball and 'scoring' by crashing into the very last door on the end of the hall.
"Damn carpet… making me trip again…" - he muttered dazed, lying over the remains of the door that he had just completely wasted.
All the rubble fell off him after he sat up and shook his head vigorously. The faint giggle coming from the futon in the middle of the room caught his attention.
"Oh. Sorry Chopper, I didn't mean to wake you up." - he said smiling sheepishly. He cleared his throat next and added as an explanation. - "I was on my way to grab something to drink. Go back to sleep."
"Or a snack." - Chopper wanted to add good-naturedly, but something about the way Luffy looked alarmed him and the words died on his lips as soon as they registered in his thoughts.
Luffy was a bad liar, in fact that was an understatement, he was one of the worst on the Earth. Chopper noticed that his words didn't hold the usual goofiness he was so used to hearing from his raven-haired friend, but before he opened his mouth to ask if everything was ok, Luffy was already out of the room. Chopper frowned and then pouted, feeling like he had missed a good chance. He considered going back to sleep as Luffy had told him, but no matter how many minutes passed, something was preventing him from resting. An unsettling feeling inside his heart was telling him he should check on Luffy just to be safe.
"Argh! I can't take the suspense anymore!" - He jumped from under the warm covers and went after Luffy like he was being chased by a legion of demons thirsty for his blood.
While Chopper was still trying to decide what he should do, Luffy greedily drank the crystal-clear water straight from the faucet. Water was a priority and searching for some glass was too much trouble. The relief brought by the cool liquid soothed his strained nerves. He closed his eyes in pleasure and chased the stray droplets of water on his lips with his tongue. Straightening up he looked in the mirror before him and with a blank look on his face tried to remember what had made him so startled earlier.
The first sensation he recalled was the hurt inside, like something was tearing him apart little by little. He wasn't able to move and somehow he knew any rush movement would end the tiny spark of life that still glowed faintly inside him.
Then it came. A feeling comparable to a flash of pain so intense his mind swayed and he was devoided from any form of conscience.
Luffy screamed, shredding the clothes he was wearing. He clawed at his skin with his nails when the clothes were out of the way trying to get rid of that horrible sensation and not understanding why it still wouldn't stop. Red dominated his sight, his own blood coming out of his eyes. His skin felt prickly because of the mild slashes caused by some daggers. Every pore was on fire and blood poured out only to be quickly replaced. He could sense his tissues and cells regenerating rapidly, bones mending and body reverting to it's original state. It was all accompanied by such intense pain that his mind had gone numb and at the same time almost robbed him from all of his senses. Even so he stubbornly cling to the shreds of his consciousness and life with a strength that surprised even him.
After that he had lost the flow of time.
How many hours had passed was beyond his perception.
He soon felt his body being splashed by the cold water and he couldn't suppress the involuntary gasp. The chocking noise escaped him when some of it got into his lungs. It robbed him of his breath and tired him more than anything when he couldn't get completely rid of all the liquid that, ironically, made his lungs burn instead of soothing them like water normally did when drank.
He had finally been able to take in his surroundings when a voice foreign to him registered itself in his head.
"Yes, we're almost ready, sir. The process of resurrection went smoothly and we can proceed to take him to the Court."
"Good." - An evident, cold satisfaction could be heard in the low baritone. - "Clean him up. But only enough so that lower angels don't feel any pity for the condemned when they see his state. We can't leave the sinner looking totally soiled if you get what I mean."
The words' meaning was balancing between falsely innocent, amused and trying to conceal the double meaning they held in reality. The brief laugh from the other person speaking confirmed that the order to play some more with the prisoner had been loud and clear.
"As you command Admiral Kizaru, of the Second Holy Division of Angels of Destruction…"
…
"–ffy! Luffy! Are you ok, Luffy? Talk to me!"
Luffy slowly came to himself. He was sitting on the bathroom floor with an empty look in his eyes. Only a minute later or so he saw it was Chopper who was calling his name and shaking him violently, panic clearly visible in his big brown eyes. Still slightly detached from the world he took in the boy's aspect as if seeing some mysterious creature for the first time.
He couldn't be older than 6 years-old. A kid by human standards. Small body, face full of innocence, pinkish cheeks and cute mouth moving erratically saying, or probably shouting something. The mane of brownish locks surrounding his face completed the image, like those paintings about small angels you could see in some Churches. The only thing that was different - and made him smile fondly now that his eyes were more focused - were a pair of wings sprouting from the kid's back. They weren't white – sign of purity - on the contrary they were totally black with an ebony quality that created a silvery shine if exposed to light in the right angle.
Though it was true that angel's wing came in more than just one color, only those who had been stripped of their holiness in some way could have them completely black. Or …there was also another way: those who were said to be half-mortals. A child born from an Angel and his or her human partner. Those creatures belonged to a separate race; they were very powerful and fearsome. Half-fallen angels that belonged to the biblical race of Nephilim.
Chopper was one of them.
"And so am I." - Luffy thought briefly with a smile.
He was one of those who always walked their own path. Just like his brother had been… a long time ago. The large scar on his chest stung with pulsating pain. He shook himself from those dark thoughts and laughed at his friend for fretting over him so much.
"Aah. Sorry Chopper, I spaced out for a bit." - he said cheerfully and not one bit apologetic, the same way he never was when there was no need to be.
"Spaced out my ass, you bastard!" - Chopper screamed, wiping tears of relief with his shaking palm because of the brief scare or probably more from anger that Luffy was waving it off so lightly.
Soon a realization struck him and his big eyes grew to the sizes of huge plates. Luffy was wondering in awe how much larger they could go, but he was distracted by Chopper.
"Y-you were experiencing a link again, weren't you?"
"Aah" - a memory came before his eyes. - "now I remember the image I couldn't grasp because Chopper brought me sooner than I expected it to be. Blue eyes, blond hair wet and plastered to the face, a beard with a faint mustache and lots of blood everywhere. I could see it in the pool of water under 'me' or more like I was him at that moment, feeling everything he could. But who was… who ishe?" - "Yeah." - He confirmed still feeling weary after Chopper had been so impatient and excited to the point he had shaken Luffy's arms with the intent to literally shake the answer out of him.
"Yay!!" - Chopper did a little victory-dance making Luffy's mood lighten up few watts more. - "S-so what are we going to do, Luffy? Oh God… I can't believe it! Wait! Wait! Firstly, we need to call Nami and the others and tell them all about it, and then we need to go and find him, of course! Oh God… It's been so long since we've seen them too~! I need to pack~…!"
The sight of the little kid running around and his cute wings making him float in the air every now and then made Luffy laugh with mirth as he followed Chopper to make all the necessary preparations. Sometimes Luffy knew things that had yet to happen or experienced unpredictable and unclear soul-connections, like the one he'd had when he'd been asleep. That's how he had met all the people closest to him, the people he would die for any time and who were also full of passion towards accomplishing their goals just as he was.
He put a very old and used straw-hat over his head and grinned brightly when he saw Chopper had already made a connection with his other nakama currently being dispatched on missions in the Old World. He put his hands on his hips and full of confidence and excitement over a new adventure he spoke the words whose consequences would later make a great impact on their lives and the lives of many others.
"I found our new nakama."
…
The hall seemed to be endless.
Sanji's eyes were getting unbelievably tired. Since the start of his walk across Mariejoa he had lost count of how many panes of glass he had seen on his way across one of the highest and most beautiful places in Heaven. Large windows on the left side of the hall made the space brightly illuminated and almost blinding in its intensity. The sudden exposure to light after having spent so many days in the Underground surrounded by darkness, caused his senses to be on overload, screaming from oversensitivity. After almost half an hour of walking, his eyes had adjusted somewhat to the light at last. He wasn't screwing them shut all the time anymore or stumbling when the chains on his wrists tensed, making him take a few small, hurried steps to loosen them up or stagger and trip.
After resurrecting, Sanji had been led by one of the few beast-type guards existing in Heaven: Centaurs. He snorted to himself with disgust. To think that they'd really make an effort and summon here one of the toughest ones just to transport him safely to stand before the Court was ridiculous. How could Heaven step so low as to bring such creatures into the realms of its sacred space? It was crushing his pride as one of the faithful ones. With the passing of the years, he could feel that burning, almost corporeal sensation rising inside his chest. Admittedly, in this time and age that feeling of revolt growing within Angel's hearts wasn't so rare anymore. This was proof that times were changing. They had changed a few times already to be more precise. It seemed like such an…uncommon and human thing for them…
"When I think about it, everything started with their arrival to Earth. Arrival, or arbitrary creation. We certainly didn't have anything to do with this whole… 'act of God' thing. I'm not against it, but I don't really see any sense in it. Why did He do it? Weren't we enough? Was it …a trial? For us? If so, then we surely failed"
His disappearance after the rebellion had been like a slap to the face for them all. They still didn't know for sure if He hadn't abandoned them just to give them a lesson about their own imperfection, to make them realize that they couldn't live without His presence and that they would always have this nagging feeling inside of them that …something was lacking. They weren't the happy angels they used to be, they were starting to resemble humans more and more. They had become polluted by their insecurity, littleness and doubts.
"How could this happen? We were thought to be the perfect ones! So why these feelings? Why have humans been created after His image and not us? Please… I want some answers, not endless questions anymore… "
His inner dialogue was interrupted harshly by a quite ruthless pull on his chains that made his him stagger. He shot an irritated glare at the mute beast for the manhandling.
Times were changing indeed…a shiver of uncontrollable anger went through his body when he thought how this world had become twisted, bended and broken in so many levels. Compassion, love, friendship? Those were only empty words in this day and age.
His gaze turned cold like the deepest waters of the coldest ocean. Empty and disinterested, but resolute. He licked his tattered lip, feeling the texture of some old scabs now open and bleeding. He sucked on it and the warm taste of iron spread inside his mouth. He had wasted so much of his blood today. Though he was technically immortal, everything that had some value and was barbarously wasted made his insides turn upside down from the unspeakable things he wanted to do to those who were committing this sacrilege. He thought on a different level than most angels corrupted by sin, but his mind and heart were also becoming defiled and his view on the world became distant, like a third person's point of view. After all those years he had stopped feeling like a participant and started feeling like a spectator.
He was aware of his strength, both mental and physical, but if there was no God present anymore he simply saw no need or purpose to participate in this… farce.
To live and fight for glory and to protect all? He believed less and less in the perfect order created in that place.
No matter how many times he was persuaded to come back and lead the new troops to engage in battle against the lowest of the fallen angels, he felt… indifference to all. That's why he had chosen the path of the peaceful ones: praying or meditating in his free time, helping others with small tasks or heavy labor. 'Killing', fighting and conquering he left to others.
It was because of this that everyone knew what he thought about those matters and thus the sudden imprisonment had been quite a shock for most of them. However some angels were actually pleased. They had always looked down on him for choosing 'an easy life' and wasting such a great opportunity to leave a mark in history with his achievements. This display of ill intentions was truly disturbing. Heaven was everyday more corrupted, inside and out.
He didn't realize he had closed his eyes while lost in thought until he bumped head first into the back of the taciturn guard that had been leading him.
"Hey, watch it!" - He grumbled. In reality he had been the one who hadn't been paying attention, but damn them. He was bruised enough for the marks to last him a decade and he obviously didn't want any new ones on top of it. 'Suffering' from such stupid and minor wounds was plain stupid and kinda… uncool.
He stood there with a visible frown on his handsome face and wondered what had made the large piece of meat suddenly freeze. He took two steps to his right and cast a look over the beast's shoulder. What he saw made his annoyance skyrocket, not to mention the other uncomfortable feeling that made his whole body tense.
"Well, well. Look who's here…" – Said a voice with a sing-song tone, making the prisoner freeze in his spot for a second, though he hid it easily - "My, my… Not even in my wildest dreams did I think that I could ever see you in chains Sanji-kun." - continued the smooth, high voice.
"But we don't dream Kalifa.." - retorted her companion with a confused frown.
"I-I know. Geez…it was just a figure of speech, I'm not stupid Jabura!" - She corrected herself while trying to make her slip seem intentional. She did forget she was an angel per se. It had been too much time spent in the human world among those sleep-lovers and she had started to sound totally like them. But she was definitely not stupid, no matter how many times they tried to talk it into her head… bastards.
Sanji bit his lip from saying anything foul and took a deep breath before an easy smile came to his lips.
"How nice to see you both... again. It's been a year since we last saw each other, hasn't it?" - He asked politely, although the more trained eye could see the tension building up in the air between the three of them.
The oblivious guard just stood there with snot falling down from his nose. He had been taught by his trainer to stand to attention when he saw or passed any high-rank, so he would wait until the newcomers continued on their way.
"No need to be so formal, though it's probably been two or five years…or a decade. Well, who would remember such boring things, right?" - Smiled Kalifa while pushing her glasses up her nose a bit. She held herself in a dignified manner, but without the usual stuck-up-ness often seen when she was doing paper work.
Two hundred years after the recruitments she was one of the best and much respected secret 'agents' that were sent to Earth to deal with the rebellions as well as to recruit or get rid of potential man-power. She had also taken after the human's way of wearing clothes, though Sanji wondered if ladies on Earth wore all such provocative clothes all the time. Either way, the worst was that instead of feeling awe at their sudden meeting he felt his heart growing even colder with each passing second. Had he changed so much after all those centuries of being alone?
Kindness was a precious emotion and he had enough of it for those who really appreciated it, but even though this was a woman he could only feel repulsion at the moment. It was something almost instinctual. He had spent so much time in the company of treacherous, greedy people who only wanted to possess goods or titles that he could sense the hidden intentions behind all kinds of masks. Right now he wanted the bastards to get the fuck away from him, or he wouldn't be held responsible for his doings, he swore it. The past weeks had put a lot of strain on him and his feelings were like a string, ready to snap at any moment. He felt like he was on the verge of going insane!
"There's a limit to being fed up with life, godammit!" - He was screaming internally, but he would be damned if he showed any weakness to his …friends? Humph, it was too valuable and strong word to describe the creatures before him. They looked at him with amusement clearly visible in their eyes, probably wondering what kind of show were they going to see with him as the main attraction on the stage. Damn them!
"What's with that face? Aren't you happy to see your buddies?" - Jabura barked a laugh, but promptly bit his long tongue under Kalifa's stern glare and sharp heel going through his foot. After that he busied himself with cursing under his breaththe painful weapon that were woman's high-heels.
Kalifa fixed her stance and suddenly caught herself going through all those secretary-like gestures she used to do. She was sure she had gotten over it, but some habits - especially for immortal angels - tended to be hard to get rid of. Geez.
"Let's get down to business." - She said with a stern voice, dropping all pretences.
"Che." – The noise at her left was silenced by the slight movement made when she shifted her weight to her right leg, promising more painful consequences if the other didn't stop whining. They weren't there for fun… yet.
"If it wasn't for your cold attitude darling, it could definitely work out between us… too bad."
Sanji looked her up and down and couldn't help but smirk when he heard her usual line reserved for the males that crossed the line: 'Sexual harassment.' That woman was full of underhanded tricks, so the best option in this situation was to keep her irritated and distracted if he wanted to get around to what the hell had they come for. Hadn't they realized that he needed to be on the Court? They weren't here to delay him or anything, were they? It wouldn't benefit them in any way, he thought. Besides what could they have against him except for the animosity that had been there since he had refused to be one of their group? Well, maybe he'd made a few smart comments about where they could stick their promotion…Oh, he guessed they did have something... And the thing with immortality was that it also meant a pretty good memory, so there was no way they had forgotten about his angry and flowery speech about blood-thirsty suckers that were obsessed with fighting and needless killing... Oops, huh…
"Don't even try. I know you don't really mean most of the cheesy things that come out of your mouth." - She said annoyed. Then she composed herself just as quickly as she had been sidetracked and shot a cold, commanding look in Jabura's direction, finally making him seem serious. - "No matter what you are trying to accomplish or believe you could do - everything will be in vain. Don't try to play hero. We, who serve the Worlds' Government, came here with the intent to convince you to accept the judgment."
"I beg your pardon? What do you mean? I came here to free myself of those accusations and return to the Angel Beach to do the things we Angels were supposed to be made for"
"It's you who don't understand. The sentence has been already decided; we didn't come here to give you any options."
"…Are my ears really hearing what I think they are…? Are you fucking kidding me? You can't do that." - He said calmly, but with fast building rage.
"We can and we did. It was an order from Above to be more precise…" - she lowered her head slightly - "My condolences. If you really want to ever return here, agree to everything and maybe there would be a chance we could wipe clean the slate and make you into a martyr. You'd be a hero then."
But Sanji wasn't listening anymore. His facial features turned grave, his eyes became ice cold and his pupils filled with a strong resolve, making both Kalifa and Jabura straighten their stances and prepare for an eventual outburst, but the Centaur's sensitive animalistic instincts took over his large body and with amazing speed he slammed the chained prisoner into the wall before even thinking what he was doing. The large dent left by the impact was pretty impressive considering that Mariejoa was made from the hardest iron-cloud there was.
The agents of CP9 relaxed significantly. They didn't want to show it, but they found themselves in awe at the guard's skills even though he was one of the tainted ones who had come from the deep abyss where the fallen ones inhabited. The speed of the movement had been at the level of their leader Rob Lucci. He was one of the fiercest and more ruthless executioners of Government's orders, and at the same time the most faithful. Even his own underlings feared him when he took his full winged stance and jumped on the enemy troops like a leopard hunting it's pray.
Sanji coughed up blood as he felt a few of his ribs crack under the strain. Damn bastard had got him good, the broken rib must have pierced his lung. Now he would have to spend the next hour wheezing and trying to restrain the coughing fits when the blood got into the organ. It would irritate the hell out of him.
"I guess you don't need us to lead the way. Let's go Kalifa, Lucci is waiting. We've got a job to do." - Jabura snorted at his former rival's state and turned around without even casting a look behind. His pride hurt more than Sanji thought it would. He gritted his teeth and refused to compare this feeling to the stinging one of being rightfully looked down on. Fuck. It showed how little they thought of him after all those years he had lived behind the front lines.
He closed his eyes. Blood came out of the corner of his lips and slid over his chin. He wondered briefly how much longer the fucking walking beef was going to hold him down, but he deducted he wasn't hiding very well his own murderous intent to fuck something up here and now, so he was still going to be treated as a threat. He released the breath he didn't know he was holding in and relaxed his body. In the next moment he felt the pressure on him waver and he was freed, dropping to the floor and shaking his head to get rid of the ruble that had fallen on him.
He spit the still lingering blood inside of his mouth on the floor and when he heard steps coming closer to him he gathered his focus on the long and elegantly shaped legs before his very own face.
"One more thing: I have nothing against you. Just a conflict of …obligations. You're just a scapegoat, nothing you can do about it. And don't even try to fight, you've already been pronounced guilty no matter what you do or how much you struggle... I'm sorry." –
She slid her hand out of the glove she was wearing and touched his cheek. The moment of regret that flashed in her eyes made him stop in his tracks, but it was soon gone and she swiftly injected something into his neck.
"There will be a trial and the one representing you will be Mr. 4…" - she paused at this, so the knowledge that he was screwed would settle in.
Mr.4 had the slowest speaking skills and was the stupidest of the 'lawyers' in Heaven. Now the process would be only a formality.
"I'll pray for your future to be brighter." – With this last promise she left.
He was left there, shocked and with a creeping feeling of dread curling in his loins as the poison to partially paralyze his nervous system started to kick in. He swallowed with difficulty. He couldn't use his voice and could barely stand on his own legs. He was unsympathetically pulled up by the heavy chains locked tightly over his wrists, a crimson trail of blood making its way down his forearms. Inside his head there was only one word repeating itself and ringing like the sound of a bell announcing the death of some poor soul…
Guilty.
-xx—xx-
Chapter III
Forest of Death
-xx—xx-
Four days after the trial. Japan, skirts of Mount Fuji.
Eerie silence.
That was the first impression he got when he happened to find himself in that particular place on Earth.
It was a forest. The thick density of the trees made the area seem dark and unsettling, creating an atmosphere of mystery. The twisting network of vines and the ankle-breaking bumpiness of the forest floor gave the place an unwelcoming and disturbing topography. Without any wind and almost no wild life, the people who dared sink into its depth grew more weary and defensive with each passing second, as if fearing something was waiting in the shadows ready for a sudden attack.
It was also a place associated with demons in Japanese mythology. Spirits of the dead that clung to the earthly realm, fluttering among the trees; their white, irregular forms glimpsed occasionally by unsuspecting visitors. Even though this should make them stray away from it; instead more and more were trying to walk straight into it and feel the cursed atmosphere on their own skin just to experience the adrenaline rush.
The fact that it was known to be one of the most popular places for suicide hadn't discouraged them. Stupid humans.
It was a place - an intersection where all the worlds met.
Sea of Trees – Aokigahara*.
…
Sanji was conscious again for the first time after many days. The stench of blood invaded his senses with violent clarity, surrounding and intoxicating him.
He almost choked on the thickness of it hanging in the air. His stomach revolted, but he didn't have it in himself to throw up anymore. He could barely lift his hand or even a single finger, and even this was a task hard to accomplish. He felt them only because of the extreme shaking that went through his body in waves and made them tremble visibly. He could feel a burning sensation being shot through his veins when it happened, it ended on the tips of his fingers and toes; that's why he was assured he hadn't lost them yet.
"At least something to be relieved for." - He mused humorlessly to himself.
Sanji couldn't remember when had been the last time he had looked as bad or felt more like shit as in that moment. Dried blood marked his chin and goatee in several spots; his lips were dried and cracked, and looked twice as big – swollen. He'd been careful - as much as he could in his state – not to bite his bottom lip anymore when the flow of blood had finally stopped, but considering he'd tried (tried being the operative word here) to crawl somewhere else, it had been impossible to accomplish.
Sanji felt broken. Only his body though, because his psyche was a tough bitch to break. No matter what they did to him, how many times, for how long; he refused to give in and give them the satisfaction of seeing him weak. Although there had been many moments when he'd been close. He'd almost felt like begging like his life depended on it - for them to stop! But all the Angels in Mariejoa regarded him with mixed feelings: fear, disgust, hate, or content. When they had been looking at him and judging he'd wanted to prove to them that he wasn't like that, that he was innocent…that he wasn't guilty…
Blood marked his path. The crimson getting lost in the dirty ground and leaves.
He kept trying to get somewhere – anywhere even close to being called safe. A survival instinct that he should have lost a long time ago. What time was it there? A few days had passed on Earth, but in the afterlife time had its own rules. He shuddered at the thought, goose bumps marking his skin for a brief moment - and it wasn't from cold this time.
"Fuck, don't get distracted" - He bashed himself. - "Keep moving!"
Sanji willed his impossibly strained body to move once again. Fuck, he was a mess. He fell down once again on a damp and muddy ground, several ripped and tattered wounds and constant bleeding from open abrasions. His face was covered with cuts, scrapes, and a mix of blood and dirt that made him look like those humans who spend many long hours in mines and came out so dirty they were barely recognizable. But he didn't care, not anymore. The burning marks on his hands made him wince each time he tried to push his body a little forward. The sting from his pierced palm went through his nerves and made his vision swim when it reached his pain receptors, but he still kept going. One extremely agonizing step was for him like one of the greatest achievements he could accomplish in his current state, though Sanji wasn't feeling content just for that. He needed to get the fuck away from there or the only thing that awaited him was death. This word had never sounded as menacing as it did now when he was at his weakest and at the mercy of gods. When he was simply no longer himself.
No longer pure, no longer rightful, no longer strong… no longer needed by anyone…
An angel.
He held himself up on his elbows, head hung between his shoulders. He could feel how irregular and harsh was the breathing escaping from between his lips, making his bruised body quiver from head to toe. He was trying so hard to calm down, but he couldn't steady it nor could he make his shaking limbs move…go and…and what? What waited for him at the end? If he died there then that was it. He would only float as a mere shadow of a ghost in the infinite. Nothingness was the only thing that waited for him. No more of the resurrection crap he had cursed hundreds of times over in his life, no more Angel Beach's white sands that he had been so sure of visiting again after the trial. At the end it hadn't happened.
He was now at the fate's mercy. Thrown out to the worst part on Earth where even passing demons could end his misery and kill him off just because. He was nothing now. Stripped of all the characteristics that made him an angel. Nothing more than a beaten up bloody pulp who had never felt such revolt inside him as in that moment at the thought of what he had become.
A human.
That's what he was. A weak creature full of himself who lived his live as fast as he could neither caring about other people nor having any regards for sacred things. But what stung him the most and made him shake in fear was his condition. If he went on like that for much longer, spilling blood all over, he wouldn't stay alive; and then he would join eternal non-existence. No heaven-hell crap for him. He was not worthy. That's why the fitting death for him was to be placed in Aokigahara; die, rot and join all those poor souls who committed suicide and now wander through the trees without reason, or even any memories, with no purpose on this Earth but to merely 'exist'.
He gritted his teeth refusing to let himself be swallowed by the dizziness and plunge again into oblivion that was unconsciousness. What fool he was for wanting to experience what dreaming was even for a brief moment. He laughed bitterly. Maybe it was a 'gift' from fate. But he was wrong, he was scared of it now. To close his eyes and forget about everything, about living… forever. He didn't want it! Definitely not like that! To be gone and forgotten. Not missed by anyone, not grieved, not…
Blood spewed forth once again painting his dirty chin in red…this time bright red. Bright like that of those weak creatures living on Earth. It reminded him even more strongly that he wasn't immortal anymore, his blood loosing the darker color and qualities of an undying being. Sanji swallowed with difficulty the lump that had formed in of his throat. He stopped being mindful of the pain cursing through his body and mourned in his irregularly beating heart, now also broken and feeling betrayed, dirtied, spat on, crushed…
"Pathetic! Stupid fool!" - he scolded himself for believing in justice and clinging so strongly to a false hope.
The forest was quiet. Despite what Sanji - one of the many involuntary inhabitants there - was feeling at the moment, the air was calm. The silence was interrupted only by his ragged intakes of breath and choked out sobs while he clawed at the ground in a futile attempt to scrub his shame, his hate and to make all those mixed, human feelings go away.
"Horohorohorohorohoro..." The faint laugh was heard in the still air.
Sanji was yanked from his pit of regrets about how he'd let those high-class bastards in Heaven make him into something for the amusement of the crowd. Not a martyr but a malefactor. Someone who deserved to be spit and laughed at while going through all those wicked and disgusting forms of mental and physical torture.
The sound was coming closer and closer. He tried to push himself upright, but failed and dove head first into the soil again. With his last ounce of strength Sanji gritted his teeth and managed a quick movement, finally pushing himself off the ground and pressing his back to the nearest tree. His hands had now become completely useless, burning from the strain even though he hadn't done much with them except for that last spurt that had weakened him like only the fastest sprint could accomplish.
He remained silent, waiting for whatever was coming his way to show himself or itself so he could judge if it was friend or foe, but the sound suddenly ceased to be heard. Maybe it was only his imagination? Or he was starting to hallucinate? Great, as if he needed something like that too!
"You are dying~! Horohorohorohoro!" - He heard whispered words into his right ear making him freeze up for a second. In the next moment Sanji turned his head swiftly to the right, but he could only feel a brief breeze, nothing more. The laugh still rang in the air.
"…wha-" - He tried to use his voice, but it came out barely as a whisper. Even this little level of effort made his throat hurt and he immediately stopped what he wanted to say, fearing to be assaulted by a coughing fit and loose the bit of consciousness he had finally regained.
"You want to know who I am~?" - Asked the voice. He was finally able to see to whom it belonged to. First Sanji felt a chill going through his body as the figure of a young girl went right through him and materialized in her whole glory before his face. He opened wider his impossibly heavy and swollen left eyelid.
Sanji had heard about those creatures, but to think he would meet one face to face, this was a first for him. And the ghost didn't look half-bad. A cutie, he would call her, but there was a mark on her neck. A rope mark. So she was one of those who had committed suicide here and become a wandering ghost of the forest; playing pranks on travelers, tourists and making them go deeper and deeper among the trees. It didn't help that there were magnetic iron deposits underground in the area, causing compasses to malfunction and travelers to get hopelessly lost in the forest. People that went into Aokigahara - often acting on a dare made on the spur of the moment - always came back changed.
If they managed to come back, that is.
"Hm? You aren't surprised. I thought it would be fun to play with you, but I see you're close to dying. Haah, I'm always late!" - She sighed irritated and was about to go away when she heard a faint sound. She turned around to the bloodied almost-corpse in her expert eyes. She saw hundreds of cases like this every year if other evil souls didn't make it before her, of course. Bastards ruining her fun.
She looked at the… man? more closely. Yes he was a man, his chest was exposed, slashed in a few places but still flat. The thing he was clothed with gave her a surprise. The ripped sambenito**, pretty used and bloodied was almost unrecognizable, but she knew that was what it was, unfortunately. The knowledge about outfits used thorough the ages finally gave her something that sparked her interest. She liked cute or dark clothes before she died and her room had been decorated with ripped plushies fixed poorly but aesthetically in her wicked sense of fashion. She loved them as much as the things she put on them. Like dead animals, they were even cuter like that. She could talk to them as if they were real and they didn't bite or talk back. That's why she'd adored them so much. Her excentric tastes explained why when she's heard about this place she just had known it would be the perfect, most creepy and romantic place to die.
But enough about past. Her 'newest' and only fun was now to tease those who were on the verge of death. Whisper in their willing ears all those horrible things about how they would enjoy to be basked in the hellfire for all the eternity for such an stupid attempt which soon would be impossible to undo.
"The look on their faces. Horohorohoro! It's indeed priceless!" – She gleefully indulged in her memories for a brief moment. –
She came closer to him and her words started to roll from her tongue like the liquid personification of sin, making her look cute and deadly with her wide eyes, unfeeling and unmoving.
"So you are a sinner horohoro! I can sense the taste of the afterlife around you, though it's very faint. Weird, so you're not an angel? Some angels around here had the same aura you do now, but much stronger. Tell me, if you can before you die that is horohoro! Is there a God in the Spirit World?"
That had touched much deeper than he wanted to let on, and the flash of something he didn't want to identify showed in his eyes. She was surprised at the reaction.
"Human. Tell me what hides behind that look? If I could, I would have ripped out your insides and check it myself, but as you can see I am forbidden to touch." - She purred evilly and extended her hand. It pierced his insides, but it didn't hurt.
Sanji felt nothing, only chill, disgust and… sorrow. He felt as if heavy lead was crushing the resolve he'd been trying so hard not to lose. Now he felt, no…he knew he was going to die. Seconds, minutes, hours. What was the point in prolonging the inevitable? What was the fucking point in struggling when the whole world was against him? He was only a weakling, shadow of his past glory and the power he'd possessed over many, power that had been bestowed on him on God's order to have the strength to protect. But now…now he was nothing but a sinner!
"Oh! Sorry. I forgot about my other 'specialty' which is to made doubt spread in humans. Oi, snap out of it! It's been some time since I met someone as interesting as you, so… don't give up, ne?"..."Yet" - She added to herself. She wasn't a Mother Teresa that helped strangers without talking anything in return. Whatever, she didn't have any intention to do that. It was more fun to play with them before they died. Eternity sounded so boooring and she loved to have new…pets. That's right. She had a new pet to play with and it would be bad to ruin her fun just before it got interesting.
Sanity shone in his eyes once again and he shook his head like after having a bad dream. He took a deep, unsteady breath trying to calming himself and come back from the panic he'd experienced. - "Shitty ghost." – Even if she was a lady, it wasn't a nice thing to do to someone who was trying to remember how to breathe, not to mention barely sustaining his consciousness. He looked up tiredly to her eyes and mouthed the answer to her question.
"Not anymore"- It rang in her ears even though it was barely a whisper. She sought his eyes for confirmation and saw no lie hidden.
"So He did exist! Interesting…" - She mused. All those who came here - angels, or those fallen ones called demons - behaved like lords and masters of this Earth. She wondered if it hadn't been all part of their plot, to make humans fall under their command in the name of Something that could just as well be only part of human imagination. Only a belief in some god-like being and a wish to seek a better life than this shitty one they had on Earth. Now a weird feeling started to spread inside of her cold and nonexistent heart. Was it hope? But for what? New life? Different than this mindless drifting in the shadows of the trees where there was no wind or animals? She let the thoughts and questions roll inside of her head and then paused suddenly … new Master! Yes, that's what she would give lots to have once again! After her first Master had died, she'd been left alone and had come to this forest to reunite with him once again, but it didn't go as planned. Now she was stuck between worlds. It wasn't the life she wanted to have.
She looked back to the seated figure. He looked like he was on the verge of losing consciousness again. She bit her bottom lip from doubt and something else. She didn't know why, but she didn't want him to die. Without the 'yet' this time. She felt it'd be a wrong thing if he died. Weird, a sinner shouldn't make her feel like that, but…"what if he isn't? What if it was something else? Something called 'cruel fate'? His eyes didn't lie. She knew.
"Human," - She said to get his attention - "if I said…if I knew a way to make you… to bring the former you back, would you believe me?" - She was stupid for even asking that. She didn't know for sure if it was going to work, and she would need to ask a special favor from him, but…it was worth it. She could…something made her feel it. She didn't know anymore, but she was sure of what needed to be done.
Sanji's eyes, that had looked tired until that moment, now had a new shine coming into them. They were wide as they assessed, judged if those words weren't being said just with the intent to make him suffer even more. Once satisfied that he hadn't seen anything overly suspicious, he nodded slowly, unable to give her an answer in any other way.
She jumped joyfully and flew through the air making a few happy circles. Someone believed her. Believed! He was the first to be so… so innocently convinced of the truth in her words, so she was even more determined to go and bring someone who possessed the power to help him. She paused in her 'steps' and turned around, suspended a few feet above the ground.
"Human, what is your name?" - She waited for an answer, for a final signing that bound their fates with a contract.
He looked up surprised, but smiled faintly making her gulp and feel somewhat nervous. He mouthed his name. She answered with understanding nod. After that she drifted into some direction, but he could still hear her voice clearly.
"I'm Perona. Wait here until I come back. And don't you dare give up or I'll make your corpse into my Bearsy Nº2 Sanji!" – She'd thrown a false threat at him, but it made him feel warm inside. He wouldn't be forgotten! How was it that the ghost who'd come to see his death and maybe even make it happen earlier, now was going to help him was beyond his understanding. Fate? There was no such thing. For the first time in what had seemed like an eternity, he laughed noiselessly to himself, full of hope.
…
"Damn it girl, why did you bring me all the way here?"
"I'm not lying! I really saw those Humandrills passing the boarder again! It's not my fault that you got us lost! If you'd only listened to me and not…Hey! Where the hell did you go now? God…what the hell is wrong with him?"
…
"What. Is. that?" - Asked the low voice. - "It not a freaking baboon, stupid ghost-woman."
"Erm..r-really? Huh…I could swear I thought he was."
"…"
"..Hey! Don't go away! He is still alive! Help him!"
"Why do I have to help someone who came here to die? I don't want to hear it was unnecessary from an ungrateful human."
"B-But! He wants to live! Look closer! Just come! He isn't or…he wasn't a human before." - She finished in a quiet voice and bit her bottom lip while looking pleadingly into his eyes.
He frowned. He didn't want to deal with any other complicated stuff. His life was already fucked up and after coming here to train his skills some more, he didn't feel like being involved with other people's business. There had been enough times when he'd needed to drop invitations and emphasize some point with his sword when more stubborn and pigheaded non-humans hadn't been listening to what he'd said the first time. He didn't like to repeat himself.
He sighed internally. The woman had been a pain in the ass ever since he'd met her, but he was intrigued. The blood marking the path screamed it was definitely a human there. Hand prints were still visible as if illuminated by daylight. He considered it. Why would a person who wanted to die make an effort to suffer some more and crawl somewhere else? To change to a place with a nicer view? He'd do that, but he wasn't as desperate to die and he did such things only after battles in some base masochistic need to find a better and more comfortable place to rest, take nap and get his strength back. - "Well, humans probably don't do that, so it wasn't a suicide this time" - It made him curious.
"Lead the way, woman."
"I'm not some woman; I have a name stupid swordsman!"
"So do I. Now hurry or when we get there the only thing worth seeing would be a corpse."
"Tsch, I hate you so much. I'll make you wear my Bearsy extra-large outfit one day and you're gonna be begging to call me Perona-sama, ha!"
"Heh, too bad your powers don't work on those like me."
"Shut up, you half-freak."
"…said the ghost. All right, all right. Lead the way… Ghost-woman."
"Hmph, if it wasn't because I need your help this time, I would love to see how you get more lost in those woods, directionally-challenged half-bred."
"Yeah, yeah. I'd find my way one way or another."
"Hah! I wonder! What would help you then?"
"..I'd simply leave it to…luck."
"Arrgh! I've had enough of your company!"
"Then fly faster."
"…"
"Oi! Not so fast!"
"What. Can't keep up, huh?"
"The hell-… Ok, you're on it! Give it your best shot!"
"Horohorohoro!"
…
"Human, do you want to live?" - The seriousness of the voice made Sanji look up to see to whom it belonged to, though he winced slightly at the sudden move.
"He can't talk." - Said Perona while flying in the air excited and also happy she'd managed to keep a promise for the first time.
Sanji looked at the one who'd asked him and tried to straighten a little in his seated position. He nodded while keeping eye contact with the man before him. It didn't go unnoticed how the other examined Sanji's body counting wounds, searching, and trying to figure out who or what he was, why was he there and what would come about if he decided to help him. The man smirked.
"I don't see you very eager to live considering your sate and also your…dubious origin. I can just as easily leave you here so you can die a dog's death. Why do you want to live, what drives you? Answer me human."
"He can't talk! Can't you see in how much bad shape he is, you idiot!" - She fumed feeling somewhat protective over Sanji's well-being. -"Sanji! You don't need to strain yourself, just say it like you did to me!"
"…to taste a true life …to accomplish …my duty…and to…bring the punishment… where it needs… to be dealt…!" - The rasped voice held so much conviction and power behind it that the hooded man before him stood silent for few seconds contemplating his words. He threw the cape out of his face, making his features be more or less visible in the dim light that filtered among the trees surrounding them tightly. Three earrings chimed at the sudden movement.
"Fine. Your name is Sanji right?" - He waited for the nod that came next and continued - "In the state you are in, there's only one way to do this." - He paused for effect and to make the other know it was risky and not easy at all, but seeing nothing but resolve in Sanji's eye he smiled internally and continued.
"Only the blood of someone who is above a mere human can accomplish it. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?" - Another nod confirmed that the blond was still in hold of his senses. - "Good, because it ain't gonna be pleasant. The gift or curse of blood from a half-human half-angel will really make your life…harder if you get what I mean." - He smirked and saw Sanji trying to swallow but failing, realization sinking. - "Good you understand it all. Now…" - He pulled one of his swords and held his wrist up in the air. He slashed easily into the thin layer of skin just above his wrist and dark blood started to flow from the wound.
Sanji swallowed thickly. There were rumors as well as half-truths about drinking the blood of those who belonged to the race of Nephilim. But… goddamit! He had nothing to lose! He nodded once again and with his heart beating weakly he stilled himself for what was to come.
"Now, drink up. And start to pray to any god you believe in, because what you're going to experience will be like taste of hell on Earth."
With those words the blood slid down his wrist and Sanji drank.
…
*Aokigahara – this place really exist. Japanese "Forest of Death".
**A sambenito was a kind of gaudy vest, similar to a modern lifejacket or poncho, that the Spanish Inquisition forced convicted heretics to wear as a way of defamation and public shame. Those condemned by the Church wore the vests as punishment, ranging from short periods of time until the day they died. Those who were to be executed wore the Sambenito until they were executed. The colors and designs indicated what crime the heretic had committed and what their punishment was.
Note: *Saint Thomas Aquinas considered the act of killing oneself the ultimate violation of God's property. *Dante banished suicides below murderers in the Seventh Circle of the "Inferno."
You too, no matter how hard it can be, don't give up on living. Believe there's a better day to come and remember you're a human with free will and you can change your not-so-bright future by firstly changing your attitude, how you view the world around you and strong resolve to try and change your small world yourself. Without effort put into your actions you won't succeed. If even this doesn't help there are always places and people who will help you. You just need to take the first step yourself.
…