Argh! I just want to hurry and get to the exciting bits!
Just a warning, it might take a while before anything involving Lavi happens. :s
Disclaimer: I don't own any thing in this story besides my oc(s) and the plot
"Neh, papa. Why do you always write books?" She titled her head to the left until her ear was nearly touching the wooden surface of her father's desk, so she could see his face that was lowered towards the paper.
She was only given silence for a response as his hand, clutching onto the quill, went from across the page to the other side and back again, seeming to have not heard his daughter.
Her stare soon shifted into a glare as her father continued writing. Her head shot back up into its normal position. "Papa!" She shouted, slamming her tiny, fair skin coloured hands onto the desk. The stool she was kneeling on wobbled slightly beneath her.
His focus drifted away from the paper as he glanced over to the child, her nose scrunched, awkwardly, as her cheeks were puffed up. He laughed causing the girl to become even more furious.
"I'm sorry, Isla. Now what were you saying?" He ruffled the girl's shoulder length, mahogany hair, giving her an apologetic look.
The little girl's skin had turned slightly purple from holding onto her breath which allowed her cheeks to expand. She immediately let out the air that she held captive in her mouth, her skin gradually returning back to its original colour.
Crossing her arms over one another, her head facing away from the man, she asked "Why does papa write books?"
Smiling at his daughter, he returned his gaze to the slim, white sheet lying flat on the table. "Because you can never open a book without learning something and the heart and core of it holds the ages of the past." He answered; chuckling at Isla's confused expression.
She safely positioned herself back onto the chair before resting her chin onto her palms. "Papa what's the stories name?" Isla questioned her father. He frowned, replying with the word 'Salaried.'
Isla wanted to ask why he had frowned but before she could she let a yawn escape from her mouth, her vision beginning to become blurry. "Best you get some sleep", he lightly nudged his daughter. Nodding, she slid off the stool. Her bare feet meeting the cold, concrete floor causing a shiver to run down her spine. Gliding over to the doorway, she waved goodnight to her father before disappearing into the shadows.
A young girl, with chocolate brown hair that reached down to her waist, stood in front of her home, a frown on her lips. Her hands unconsciously tightened its grip around the hardcover book, the word 'Salaried' was printed in fancy lettering on the spine of it.
Lowering her head, allowing her bangs to cover her eyes from view, she gritted her teeth together as a small tear ran down her cheek. Her body shook, violently as the tears began to collect themselves at her chin then dripping onto the pavement.
"Why?" She murmured, the tears still flowed down her rosy cheeks as she recalled what had happened this afternoon.
Father said he would have finished the book when I got back, she thought as she hurried her way through town. It had been three years since she was told about the book and now it was finally finish.
Her sky blue eyes, framed with long black eyelashes seem to sparkle from excitement. Turning to the right, she stepped into a narrow alley for a shortcut. Her eyebrows furrowed whilst her lips twisted into frown as she saw several crates had been dumped there. Not only that, some were broken, splinters of wood sticking out in different places.
Cautiously stepping through the gaps in between the crates, Isla made her way to the alley's exit. As she was nearly there, a tearing sound could be heard. Her eyes darted over to where the sound had come from; noticing her dress had been caught on one of the broken crates.
She couldn't afford this dress to be damaged anymore, it was the only suitable clothing she had. Isla's father wasn't rich enough to send her to school or buy her dresses and accessories but his previous sold books were enough to keep them alive.
From time to time, Isla would have to adjust her dress to fit her growing body. If this dress was damaged until it was no longer able to repair, she would have to resort to wearing a potato sack for clothing. I am not going to be seen in such an embarrassing thing, Isla shook her head, dismissing the thought of it.
Carefully unhooking the worn out fabric from the crate, she slipped out from the alley. Isla directed her gaze over to the hole that was recently created. She sighed in relief that it was only minor. "Ah, well it can't be helped. I'll fix it when I get home", she whispered to herself.
The girl examined her clothing's long sleeves that hung loosely around her wrists. Nothing ripped. She then turned to inspect the rest of her dress. It flowed down to her ankles; the original material was blue gingham that reached down to her thighs before the other different colour fabrics were sewed on, so the dress wasn't too short for her. Good, everything else is fine, she smiled to herself, satisfied.
Continuing home, she turned and dodged to avoid an incident with anybody or anything, finally reaching a rundown house. The vermillion coloured paint had dulled to a horrible brown, tiles were falling off the roof and a couple of windows had been broken.
Isla opened the door, not surprised it was unlocked. Her father never left it locked unless they were asleep. Entering the house, she was welcomed with silence.
"Father, I'm home!" She yelled, her voice echoing through the building.
The silence returned after the echoing had faded away. Strange, he would usually reply.
Shrugging, Isla walked down the deserted hallway, calling out 'father' every few seconds. She was starting to get worried. Swinging one of the doors open, she ran down the steps into the basement where her father would usually be working.
"Father?" She flicked the light switch on, lighting up the room. Isla noticed the pile of clothes that were on the floor. Walking over to them, she kneeled down and picked up a red shirt. Sand, grey sand to be exact, poured out from the openings of the clothing. Huh? Is this another one of father's weird creations for his stories? She wondered, letting the shirt go.
Standing back up, she glanced over to his desk. Her eyes widened as she saw what was lying on the table. A book. Isla rushed over to it, picking it up immediately. I can't believe it. He actually finished the book. The sides of her mouth curved upwards into a wide grin.
The light around her suddenly darkened as something loomed behind her. "There you are father, I was wondering where you had g-", she turned around only to replace the last word of her sentence with a scream.
In front of her, she was faced to face with a monster. It had dozens of cannons protruding out of its oval shape corpse. It leaned in closer to her, its hideous face showed fear and sorrow. What caught her eye though was the black star that was on its forehead, to her surprise; she wanted to touch it but mentally slapped herself for thinking such a thing in this crisis.
The colour from her face drained away, her breathing beginning to come out as raspy sounds as her legs trembled underneath her.
The gun barrels bended towards her, a bright light growing inside the cannons. Isla snapped her eyes shut, bracing herself for what was yet to come.
A loud explosion was heard, a powerful force blowing her backwards, slamming her into the wall. Isla felt something slip away from her grasp as she slid down the wall, landing onto something hard.
Ow...that hurt. Isla's eye fluttered open to see that the she was still in her father's basement. I'm not...dead? Raising a hand to her cheek, she squeezed it, just to make sure she wasn't hallucinating.
"H-How though?" She skimmed the room, surprised the gruesome creature had vanished.
"Are you alright, down there?" An old man's voice floated down to her. Tilting her head back, she glanced up, her mouth opened slightly.
A very wide hole had been made; Isla suspected it was done by the monster. Through the opening, she could see it was an elderly man. He had a stubby moustache and grey hair that stopped just a bit below his shoulders. She couldn't really tell from where she was but it seemed to her he was wearing a black head band or string around the crown of his head. She was more interested in the strange black and gold attire he was wearing though.
Repeating himself, he asked Isla the question again.
"Oh! I-I'm fine", she stuttered, still shocked from what had happened.
Jumping off the table, she slowly walked up to the book she had dropped. It somehow had landed on the pile of clothes.
Those clothes...they couldn't be, her eyes grew large as she realised that her father was wearing the exact same clothes this morning.
Father...
"It's not fair! Why did he have to die?" She turned away from the house, glaring at the old man. He didn't say anything, grim expression showing on his face.
"Answer me!" She yelled, taking two fists of his outfit, the tears still streaming down her face.
He didn't answer her, instead he took hold of her pair of hands. "Calm down", he said in a gentle voice.
Isla instantly let go as she realised she had been taking out all her anger on the elderly man.
"I'm sorry", she apologized, trying to wipe away the tears that kept coming. What was that monster? She wondered, glad that her tears had stopped.
"Those monsters are known as akuma. The one you just witnessed was a level one", he told her, answering her thoughts.
"Akuma?" She repeated the word.
He nodded, "they are killing machines created by the Millennium Earl that target human beings."
"Then that akuma...was targeting my father and me?" Isla asked.
He nodded once more, "it seems, yes."
"What happened to the akuma?" She still had many questions to ask the man.
"It has been destroyed by an Anti-Akuma Weapon." She was about to ask him another question when she was cut off. "Anti-Akuma Weapons are processed from a material called 'Crystal of God', which is also known as innocence."
"What is...innocence?" She tilted her head to the left. It was aching from trying to figure out what he was trying to tell her.
"Innocence is only a fragment of a cube that was broken into 109 pieces that were scattered around the world. It is one of an Exorcists job to recover the shards before the Earl destroys them. The Exorcists, such as myself, wield the weapons that are created from them", he explained.
Her grip tightened around the book even more as she asked, "why did that akuma murder my father though? Neither he nor I knew anything about innocence." Isla's voice was beginning to crack as she felt the tears swell up in her eyes again.
"We suspect that book you are holding is an Anti-Akuma Weapon, which is why you and your father were attacked by an akuma", his eyes softened at the girl.
Isla stiffened, her gaze falling onto the book in her hands. Father's book is...innocence? "No, you must be mistaken sir, this is just a book...it can't destroy akuma...it can't." She didn't want to believe it. The book she was longing to read was the cause of her father's death.
He kneeled down, his height matching hers. The man patted the top of her head, just like the way her father use to do. "It is hard to believe but you are the host of this innocence."
A tear escaped the corner of her eye, rolling down the side of her face onto the cover of the book. "My innocence..."
Okay so, knowing me, I'll probably end up being lazy and won't update for a while so whoever reads this fanfic, I thank you and hope you won't hate me for making you wait :s
