Author's Note :

This idea came to me one night as I worked on a storyboard for a Fanfiction that revolves around Klavier Gavin. I thought it too good to waste, and although the idea is not one I would be able to use as a multi-chapter or inside the storyboard I am currently working on, I wanted to share it as a one-shot to all of my lovely and loyal fans. Be warned, it is rated strong T for very detailed descriptions of child abuse. It does, however, have a nice ending, so perhaps the strong warning is a tad over-kill. It is, as many may have already guessed, Klavier G.\Ema S. centric.

Keep Reading, Writing and Reviewing,

Serah

The Fingernails of An Angel

"What happened to your nails?"

Ema Skye found herself sitting in the office of Klavier Gavin, watching him as he played his guitar. He stopped in his strumming ar her question, the beautiful, slow melodies coming to an abrupt halt as he looked at her, a thin eyebrow risen in question.

"I just noticed that they look a bit different than other people's nails." Ema continued, shrugging. "I mean, look..." She unceremoniously took his hand on her own, comparing her nails with his. While hers were perfectly formed, his were off-center and crooked. "Is it because you play guitar?"

"No, it is not because I play guitar, meine Liebe." Klavier laughed softly. "Tell me, Fräulein Skye, what do you know of fingernails?"

Ema blinked before flushing brightly. "Well, I know that they protect the delicate ends of your fingers. I also know that they can, like starfish, regrow, and that nails are deceptively very strong..." She paused, and realized she did not know anything more.

"Is that all you know, meine Liebe?" Klavier asked teasingly, grinning. Ema threw him a glare, and the Prosecutor smiled at her. "If that is the case, allow me to teach you about the nails of a finger, ja?"

If there was one thing Ema could not stand, it is the knowing that Klavier Gavin knew more about something that she did, even if it was something as miniscule as fingernails. "Enlighten me, fop."

"You are correct in saying that the nail is a protection of the ends of our fingers. However, as for it being 'deceptively strong', you are wrong. The fingernail is actually weaker than skin, just harder and therefore less effected by injury- and besides, the nail does not have nerve endings. If you are one to partake in the habit of chewing them, the pain that comes along with that is not caused by your nail itself, but the decay of the glue-like skin that attaches the nail to your finger."

Ema stared at him in complete surprise. Klavier smiled at her again, continuing to speak of what certainly was a favorite topic of his. "In addition, the fingernail is, for all intents and purposes, the claw of a human, dumbed down throught our evolution as the need for it decreased through the invention of more reliable and powerful weapons. And like you said, the nail does manage to regrow itself, but that is only through the nutrition it recieves from the human body. It requires namely the vitamins A and D to do so, and the proper intake of calcium to heal correctly."

Ema continued to stare at him.

"Nails, like skin, shed, but very slowly. A study conducted by scientists found that a human nail grows faster than any other mammal, but are more easily damaged as a result- and to confuse matters more, each nail on each of our fingers grow at a different rate. Also, as humans, our nails are more suseptible to injury and disease. However, without our fingernails, we would be even more affected by diseases such as the common cold, as too many people pick their noses. Lastly, fingernails have, since enen the ancient times, have been used as a diagnostics tool, as they are also an indicator to where a person lives, how they live, of what race they are, and how old they are. Fingernails make your job as a Detective much easier, meine Liebe."

Klavier grinned at her dumbfounded expression. "Amazing, ja? To think that one little deposit of calcium can make so much of a difference in daily life."

"But how do you know all this?" Ema questioned in disbelief. "Did you want to become a nail stylist or something and learned all this because of that?"

Klavier laughed. The sound was like the music he played- beautiful. "Fräulein Skye, I learned this from my mother."

"Was she the nail stylist?"

"Nein, just very well researched." Klavier replied, his eyes growing distant as he remembered her. "My mother had an interesting personality, meine Liebe- much like you, in fact. She was always curious about the little things, always asking the strangest of questions about the stangest of things."

"She was?" Ema asked carefully.

Klavier's eyes closed. "Ja, she was. She was diagnosed with lungenkrebs, lung cancer, just after I turned seventeen. I came to the United States to live with my elder brother, Kristoph, after she passed away but a few months later. By that time, my father had also passed away in a vehicle accident involving an intoxicated driver."

Ema bit her lip. "My parents were killed in a car accident, too. The driver of the other car was drunk, and even now I don't think it was fair that he survived when my parents were killed."

Klavier did not open his eyes when he replied quietly, "My father was the intoxicated driver of his accident. I have no pity for him, the drunken fool. I apologize that your family fell victim to such a senseless act, meine Liebe."

"It happened a long time ago, fop." Ema sighed softly, watching his expression turn from sadness to surprise as he finally opened his eyes to turn and watch her. "I was four. Lana- my older sister- raised me, and I turned out pretty well, didn't I? It just goes to show that it doesn't matter who raises you, just that they do it right."

Klavier's impossibly blue eyes suddenly left hers. Concerned, Ema asked, "Are you okay?"

"Nein, I am not." His brutal honesty surprised her. "I lied about the nails, Fräulein Skye. My mother did not tell me about them." He said this as if he were confessing to a murder. If it had been anyone else at any other time, Ema would have bristled- if there was one thing she hated, it was being lied to. But the fact that Klavier admitted to it, and the fact that his eyes were filled with some horrible pain, forced Ema to hold her tongue but for one word.

"Why?"

Klavier was quiet for a moment. "My father was the one who told me about the nails, meine Liebe, not my mother. I doubt my mother knew one-third of what I told you before I told her myself." He paused again, and Ema suddenly felt as if he were holding back, hiding from her.

Fight it as she had tried, she bristled. "What aren't you telling me?" She demanded, startling the Prosecutor with her sudden anger. "I hate being lied to, fop. You should know that already! So either tell me what you're hiding or I swear I- "

And as she shouted at him, it clicked- his nails, strangely formed, crooked and off-center, and his father, who had died in a vehicle accident while intoxicated.

"Why?" She asked simply, softly.

Klavier's impossibly blue eyes closed. "I had been gifted a guitar for my birthday. All I wanted to do was play it- and so I did. Even at such a young age, I was pretty good. But my father... He was against the idea of a guitar. He told my mother I would only make noise with it and that I had no talent, anyway."

Ema blinked in surprise- even she, as much as she hated admitting it, knew that Klavier had talent when dealing with any kind of music, not just with the guitar. To think his own father had refused to recognize that he has such a wonderful talent, Ema thought, apprehension beginning to build up somewhere within her.

"...I practiced anyway, in the basement of my childhood home," Klavier continued. "My mother and brother were gone for the week, traveling to a political speech Kristoph was keen on attending. I was always nervous around my father, especially when alone with him. I avoided him, skipping meals here and there to that effect. He did not seem to mind. One night, I snuck into the kitchen, sure he was asleep, for food. Once satisfied, I returned to the basement, only to find my father there, waiting for me."

A chill passed through the base of Ema's spine, causing her to shiver. Klavier watched her in concern, but she nodded for him to continue. He did so with some hesitation.

"My father then demanded that I play for him. I was nervous, and I told him that I did not wish to. He...my father, he told me that if I did not do as he told me, he would hit me. I called his bluff- I did not believe him capable of hitting me. I was his second-born son- but his son nonetheless. But he did- he hit me. He split my lip with the back of his hand. After I regained myself, he told me that if I did not play for him that instant, he would continue to hit me until I agreed."

"He- he threatened to beat you?" Ema asked in a hushed voice. "Klavier, he- was he drunk?"

"My father never needed to use his drink as an excuse to hit someone, meine Liebe." Klavier answered, his impossibly blue eyes somehow growing dark. "I did not know this at the time, but he had began his abuse of my mother and my brother. It was time, I suppose he decided, for me to learn my place- and what a better time to do it, while the rest of the family had gone?"

Ema felt her blood run cold. Klavier had grown up with a father that had hit him- a father that had physically abused him, at the very least- and yet, he was still him. He was still Klavier Gavin, the smiling, cheerful, teasing, genius of a musician and Prosecutor she had come to befriend and eventually love. "I- I'm so sorry, Klavier." She managed to say, "I had no idea."

Klavier laughed. "It is of no consequense, meine Liebe. Not many people do know. In fact, you are the only person in the world who knows this now."

That's right, Ema realized with a jolt, His only brother, Krisroph, hung from the gallows weeks ago for the muder of two men. His entire family is gone- he's all alone now. "Did you play for him? Your father, I mean."

"Ja- what choice did I have by that point? I played my guitar for him in that basement. He listened, and I felt, perhaps if I did my very best, he would acknowledge my talent. When I finished, I asked him how I did. I remember that I was smiling. My father said he could do better, and like the fool that I am, I challenged him to do so." Klavier's eyes closed, and Ema could see the pain etched into his expression. "I gave him my guitar. He took it from me, examined it carefully for a few moments, and played a few terrible, screeching notes- to this day, I still shudder at noises like that; it sounded like nails scratching a chalkboard."

"Did he hit you again, when he realized that he couldn't play like you did?" Ema asked in morbid curiousity.

Klavier grit his teeth. "He did more than that," He said through his teeth, and Ema felt her heart begin to swell in such sadness that it began to ache. "He swung the guitar at me, like he would have a baseball bat. The guitar, it splintered at contact with me. It left this scar," He turned his head, and Ema saw it- a white line running the length of his temple to the middle of his cheek. "Of course, the blow stunned me. I blacked out, and when I reawoke, I was still inside that basement. I sat up, and when I did, I realized my father was standing above me. He threw the guitar at my feet, and said that if I ever wanted to see the light of day again, I would play for him once more."

Ema could only stare at him in shock, her stomach twisted in horror and disgust at what had been done to him.

"So, I played for him. He listened for a while, until he noticably grew bored. That was when he stopped me. He told me to put the guitar down and fetch him a chair from the kitchen. I did so without hesitation, and when I returned with it, he commanded me to sit. I did, and that was when he began to tell me about nails. He described them in such detail that I could barely understand the scientific jargon he threw at me. He told me something that I neglected to tell you, meine Liebe- he told me that the ripping of nails was an effective torture used primarily in World War two, against United States soldiers

by the Japanese."

"Klavier, you can't be serious- your father- he didn't..." She paused. "...Did he?"

"I learned much about torture that week," Klavier confirmed softly, "And much more in the following years...Meine Liebe," Ema was startled when he spoke directly to her, his voice gentle and soft. "This entire conversation began with your question to how my nails became what they are today, and now, I have given you your answer."

"I- I am so sorry. I can't believe your father..." Ema's voice faltered then, and she shook her head, unable to say the words that described what had been done to Klavier. "...Did that to you. What happened when your mother and brother came home from his politics meeting?"

"My mother found me tied to that chair when she returned with my brother- I do not know how long I was tied down. I was terrified, almost out of my mind with fear. I did not want her near me- I was afraid that she was going to try to hurt me. It took her comforting, and the coaxing of my brother, to calm me down enough to stop me from struggling, to allow them to untie me. The moment I was released, I ran out of that basement and hid myself in my bedroom. It took them a week to convince me that I was safe, and another month for me to be able to endure being in my father's presense for more than a few moments. This became a constant cycle in our lives, though the time it took me to calm was a bit less each time, almost non-existant by the time I reached adolesence."

"Why didn't he just kill you?" Ema asked under her breath, causing Klavier to blink and turn toward her, his impossibly blue eyes filled with hurt. "I don't mean that I want him to have- it's just- why did he have to make you suffer like that? Why did he have to torture you- make you go through all that? Why not just...end it?"

Klavier's expression had gone from hurt to understanding. He shook his head. "I do not know. I never asked him- I never thought to ask my father such a thing."

"Why did your mother stay with him? Why not just- "

"Not another word against my mother, meine Liebe." Klavier interrupted her sternly. "My mother could not leave him and save us at the same time. She chose to stay for us- and for that, I am eternally grateful. I doubt either I or Kristoph would have survived otherwise."

There was a brief pause, in which both were lost in their own thoughts.

"I...I'm just...I can't believe someone could do that to their own kid." Ema breathed in morbid astonishment.

"Nein," Klavier replied, startling her with the anger in his voice. "I am disgusted by the fact a human being could rip the fingernails out of a fellow human being and still call himself human. It angers me to think that, for whatever reason, torture like that, and worse, was implimented." Klavier shook his head, and Ema saw anger in his gaze. "It is things like this," He said, his voice softer than she expected, "That make me wonder whether or not humans are capable of true love. How can they- how can we be, if we are capable of committing such terrible acts?"

"Don't say that." Ema said forcefully, startling the Prosecutor. "I'm aware that humans are capable of cruel and terrible things- for two years, my own sister was forced to do all kinds of things because she was being blackmailed into thinking I murdered someone, only to find out that he was tricking her and had committed the murder himself. I know humans are capable of true evil, Klavier. I've lived in that evil. But everything that can be dark can be light."

"Ja?" Klavier asked, his eyebrow risen in both doubt and curiousity, "Give me an example, meine Liebe. Give me example of someone who can be both dark and light."

Ema smiled. Softly, she replied, "You're slipping, fop. I do know someone who can be both- someone who's suffered a lot of pain, but rarely ever inflicts pain himself. I know someone who has lived through the darkest times, and still comes out shining, smiling, and offering someone else a shoulder to lean on. I know someone who is surrounded by betrayal and yet still remains loyal to his just beliefs firmly himself. I know an angel of light who was raised in darkness- and he's staring at me right now, with his confused, impossibly blue eyes."

Klavier blinked in surprise. "Me." His voice, so filled with doubt before, was now filled with disbelief. "I am this...angel of light and darkness?"

"Yes, fop, you are. Who else could I be talking about? I can't even begin to imagine what you went through as a kid, or what you went through when you saw what your own brother had become, but I know it was unspeakably painful- and don't you dare try to deny it," She added when he opened his mouth to speak. "I know it was. No one could be so kind without having suffered- it's because of that pain that you are who you are, Klavier."

The Prosecutor had turned his gaze away, gritting his teeth. "I am no angel, meine Liebe."

"I didn't mean that literally, fop." Ema sighed, causing Klavier to raise a critical eyebrow. "In my eyes, there are two kinds of humans on this planet- angels and demons." Klavier rose an eyebrow. "There are about half of each. The demons are the people who hurt others, who use others- torture them. These beings can't love or feel love. The angels are people who help others, who are unselfish and kind. True angels love unconditionally, but occassionally, like demons, don't or won't feel love."

Ema watched for his reaction, and when his expression remained blank, she continued, "Not altogether coincidentally, the ones that demons hurt are the angels. The demons are jealous of the angels and hate them. But what I have realized over time is that angels can be demons and demons can be angels. There are only a few permanent on each side."

"I am not following you," Klavier admitted honestly, and Ema's eyes softened with the realization that he could not see himself as she saw him. His impossibly blue eyes were lit in complete fasination, however, telling Ema that he was still interested in what she had to say. "Where do I fit in?" He asked, more out of curiousity than anything.

Ema laughed, taking his hands in her own, now aware of the reason why their fingernails were so different. Somehow, his nails no longer looked strange, crooked or off-center- In fact, Ema thought, They are perfect.

"You, Klavier?" Their eyes met, and she saw the gratitude in his. Smiling, she said softly, "You are one of those rare human beings that have always been an angel."

Klavier smiled. When he spoke, it was as if a great pain had been lifted from his shoulders. "An angel," He said to her, his impossibly blue eyes sparking with the return of some inner strength that had been slowly leaving him, "With a fellow angel as my eternal companion."

:: ::