Angel's Grace

By ElveNDestiNy

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! No copyright infringement intended.

Author's Note: This story is only here thanks to Decadency, Fifilafemme, Kritius, Dagmar the Dark, Aisha-chan, vepoleg, and Dark Seraphim.


Two: Bonded

Dance like no one is watching. Sing like no one is listening. Love like you've never been hurt, and live like it's heaven on Earth.
— Mark Twain.

Everything hurt, but at the same time it hurt so much that I almost couldn't feel it, as if my mind were somehow disconnected from the suffering of my body on at least one level. I labored for breath, feeling as if there was something stuck in my chest, pushing me down and preventing me from getting the air I needed. Instead of feeling pain, all that I knew was that I was growing tired. It felt like moving was impossible, because my arms and legs were so heavy, aching with a bone deep fatigue that made me simply want to give up.

In some part of my mind, I probably guessed that I was dying, but it didn't seem like such a big deal. People have speculated about death for eons, but I had seen so much of it when I was younger that rather than fearing it more, I had become desensitized to it. After all, every single living thing eventually dies.

They say some people see a bright light or that scenes from their life flash in front of them in their final moments. That wasn't the case for me at all. In fact, all I could think about was that one Tuesday night, almost a week ago. It felt like I was reliving it again in these last minutes and I closed my eyes, feeling wet heat steal out of the corners of my eyes.

I thought about him so much and I was never really sure if I wanted him or hated him. But all I could think about as I lay dying was whether I would ever see him again.

The music pours from my bandmates around me and I let myself relax, for the moment completely uncaring that hundreds of fans are eagerly watching our every move, drawn as surely as moths to a flame. The pulsing rhythm matches my heartbeat and I wait, head lowered, body already swaying…I take a breath and begin to sing, the lyrics spelling out the story of my life, but I don't hear myself.

I think of the one person I had loved, and wonder how I could have betrayed him like this, my own brother. I wonder why I can't deny it, even though I don't dare admit the truth, even to myself…the truth that I had betrayed Miruko. Even before I had lost the airborne duel and subsequently lost my own soul, I had betrayed him with our worst enemy.

The song is my confession, the only way I can express all the self-loathing and horror I feel at knowing just how much he affects me, even though it has been months since I have seen him. Within the guise of lyrics, I can admit that I wonder what those lips would feel like pressed against mine. I can hate myself for it.

It is so easy to lose myself completely in the music, to forget the world outside and live only in this dance. At the same time I am acutely conscious of everything around me, and the way I dance to the music as if it were a lover, the movements of my body smooth and sensual. I know exactly what he must be imagining as my hand touches my throat and passes lightly down my chest. The interlude is filled with only the throb of the guitars and I close my eyes, hands running down the side of my hips, secretly imagining they are his hands.

I see blue—a pure and endless blue, the turmoil of a brewing storm on the sea. As I raise my voice again in a husky, wordless croon, I wonder…can he hear me? Has he heard my voice before, without even recognizing it? Is he watching now, hidden amidst the gyrating press of bodies on the shadowy dance floor?

Slowly I near the edge of the stage and instead of stopping there as I usually do, I descend into the crowd, causing piercing screams of excitement. The danger of it appeals to me, the knowledge that, lost in the multitude of people on the closely-packed dance floor, I am incongruously vulnerable. Hands reach out to touch me and I felt free in my revulsion for their desperate caresses, as desperate as I am myself. I feel those hot eyes wanting to own me, to take my voice and body for their private worship, and I am ashamed and elated at the same time. I don't even understand it myself, why this element of degradation draws me in—maybe I just want to punish myself, but maybe some small part of me is hoping still that he'll see me and somehow want me, like all these people do.

That is what music lets me do, what the suggestive dancing is all about. I don't do it for the fans, not really. I do it for myself, because then I can pretend.

Miruko…I try to cling to the thought, to the memory of his small hand grasping mine firmly as we faced the end of our world. I try to remember the hate that had raged inside of me when I had seen the insignia on the sides of the tanks that had killed him. I try to feel anger against the one who had inherited the wealth created from the destruction of my life. Blood money, I tell myself.

But I don't care, and that is the blatant truth that I run from when I avoid him. I don't care about any of it, only that he isn't mine and I can never have him. He owes me a life. He owes me something, but what I want isn't anything he'll willingly give, and there's no other way to have it.

Are those blue eyes that are drinking in my movements, jealous of the bodies pressing against mine? Tonight I seduce the audience, but my mood is savage with all these dark emotions, the disgust and the despair. The audience feels it and likes it, eager to feel the sheer exhilaration of playing with fire. That's what I'm selling, even more than the music and the dancing.

I'm selling my emotions. They don't even know it, but they're getting my story. My whole life.

And all I remember is that feeling of falling into the blue.

Do you remember me

Because I'll never forget you

So where are you now

Where are you?

I must be imagining it, that intense blue gaze that somehow catches mine. I can't help but react and it's all so sudden that I've forgotten the last line, so I sing whatever comes to mind at the moment…

You're here with me—

I press forward as the words ring out, trying to make my way through the crowd. The person I thought I had seen for that heart-stopping moment has disappeared. Such bitter disappointment fills me that I swallow past a hard lump in my throat and my eyes burn with unshed tears. It doesn't matter, because the performance is over. I turn blindly around, making my way back to the stage.

Of course I had only imagined it all.

o o o

Someone shook me violently, insistently. I didn't want to wake, so I stubbornly kept my eyes closed, trying to chase away the ache in my chest. Raphael always said that I was even more bullheaded than Varon, which was practically a compliment of sorts, considering the lengths the Aussie would go to in order to have his own way. I kept my eyes shut.

It hurt, but in more ways than one. I had shoved that memory to the darkest, deepest corners of my mind and had so thoroughly repressed it that I hadn't even thought about it. But watching it all again—feeling it and living it—hurt more than the physical pain.

The pain faded gradually and I found myself opening my eyes anyway, as much from surprise as from the nagging feeling I had. Everything was white, and for a moment I panicked and thought that I was blind. But I was pretty sure that the blind lived in darkness and not in this kind of colorless void.

Finally I blinked and realized I was lying on my back, but when I rolled to look at what I was lying on, that was white too. Terrifyingly white, completely blank, no edges or lines. There was simply just white space, all around me. There was nothing else. I started to wonder if I had become insane.

Then I saw Miruko appear out of nowhere, and he was smiling at me. He was six years old and Mother had just died, but I knew he still clung to hope. His eyes shone with his utter faith that everything would be all right, that I could find a happy ending for us, because that was what I had told him.

But Miruko was dead. I shook my head, trying to break free of this hallucination. I dreamed of him sometimes, except I had the strange feeling that this wasn't just a dream. After all, my imagination couldn't possibly be good enough to come up with this white void. I finally dared to look at him again and his grey eyes, lighter than mine by a few shades, were worried.

"It isn't supposed to be this way, Amelda," he told me.

Okay, I don't remember any dreams where he had actually spoken to me.

"What?" I heard myself before I realized I could speak. The pain was gone, but I still felt limp and helpless, as if all my muscles had decided to rebel against me. My own voice sounded strange, kind of hollow. "Miruko, where are we?"

He gave me another smile, a sad, wistful one. "We're Above. He killed you, but it shouldn't be this way. You aren't supposed to be with me, big brother, not yet."

Miruko held my hand as I stood up. I found out immediately that all the whiteness was extremely disorienting, since I couldn't see any walls or floor or anything that might have told me that I was in some sort of space. I tried to focus on him and not think too much about what was up and what was down. He hugged me, burying his face into the rough material of my trench coat. My arms instinctively came around him and I drew in a sharp breath when he felt solid to my touch. It had been so long since I had held him.

"Miruko, does that mean I'm dead?" I sounded almost calm. I tried to recall what I last did and suddenly the flood of memories came back. Chris had been warning me, but I hadn't been listening. That surreal meeting with Kaiba, my uncertainty over whether he had recognized me as the singer onstage, the sudden attack, a gold KC brooch flashing before my eyes—the gunshot.

I had been shot and I remembered the pain tearing through me before I had rapidly seemed to leave my body. I had almost certainly died, right? Was this heaven or something? The thought should have terrified me, but I was beyond being shocked.

A rippling chord drifted through the white void, as if someone had lightly run their hands across a thousand harp strings. It was more air than music.

"What is that?" I whispered, and then was surprised that I had done so. Somehow it felt as if I were in a church or library, or perhaps the critically ill ward of the hospital. It seemed wrong to speak in a normal tone of voice.

Miruko's face was thoughtful. "You're being called," he told me. "That means I won't be able to see you. I think it's because it wasn't supposed to happen this way, so the Guardians of Faith are going to make things right."

The last part of that sentence meant nothing to me, so what I focused on was the fact that Miruko was going to leave me. I reached out and grabbed his hand, but before I had time to question him on what he meant, something tapped my shoulder.

The memory of the attack from behind—the cause of my death, after all—still fresh in my mind, I spun around and prepared to defend my brother and myself. Seconds later, I simply stared in disbelief, frozen in my utter disbelief.

I noticed the wings first: they were huge white things stretching at least a few feet above my height. Then I saw his face, with his impossibly peaceful and calm expression, a sleepy serenity in his perfect features. He held his hands away from his body and toward me, his palms up as if offering something. More than anything else, his eyes alarmed me. The irises shifted color constantly, colors melting into each other in a way that should never have been possible. One moment I was looking into green eyes and the next, they were blue.

He looked exactly like… "An angel," I said without even realizing it.

He inclined his head slightly and gave me a faint smile. I had never seen a man so beautiful, and when he spoke, his voice matched his appearance. It was absolutely unearthly. "Come with me, Amelda."

I followed, no room in my thoughts for resistance, not when I was still so stunned. I heard Miruko run up to me from behind and I turned just in time for him to throw his arms around me, nearly squeezing the breath from me as he clamped around my waist. He had tears in his eyes but he gave me a brave smile and I remembered how he wouldn't cry, not even when things got so bad during the war.

"I'll see you later, big brother," he whispered. "Just remember me."

"Miruko…"

The angel didn't lead me to anywhere and yet it seemed as if we somehow left Miruko behind. I knew I was walking but there was still nothing but emptiness around, the utter white more disturbing than anything I could have known. Finally, we stopped and I turned to face the angel.

"I am Asriel," he said, and took my hands in his. I nearly cried out—his skin was hot and his touch burned. I tried to jerk away, but he held on. A moment later, his hand in mine felt like any other person's. "Thou wilt have three days, Amelda, but there is much for thee to learn. Time flows different here, passing both slow and fast, unlike in the mortal world. Listen well and remember what I say."

"Three days?" I asked, confused. "Three days for what? Where would I go after three days?" I half expected him to say 'Hell,' but he only shook his head.

"Thou wilt understand soon, so cease thy questioning until then. Thou hath been given a second chance, Amelda, because the first had been unfairly taken away from thee."

"What do you mean?" I was having a hard time even following his archaic speech patterns. The traditional formality made his speech seem stilted, although the words seemed as lovely as the rest of him.

"Thou art now one of my brethren. Look to thyself."

I stared at him for a moment, thinking that I had misunderstood. He gestured and I still stared, wondering if he was serious. I turned my head to the side, as if looking over my shoulder, and expected o see more of that empty white dreamscape.

White met my eyes, but a different kind of white. This was feathered white, looming above my shoulders. I twitched in surprise and feathered white wall twitched too, and then I realized what I was looking at.

"Wings." My voice came out sounding half strangled, and I caught a hint of cool amusement in the Asriel's eyes as he regarded me. "I'm a—I'm an angel?"

"Yes. Fear not, thou wilt adjust soon enough. Eventually, thou wilt cease to think of thyself as human and truly join thy brethren."

That prospect was even more terrifying to me, but I couldn't think of a good way to tell him that. "How can I forget? That's like saying I'll forget why I am!"

"Becoming an angel is a kind of rebirth for those such as you, who were once mortal. You are an Angel Chosen, rather than an Angel Created. We have determined what both thee and Seto Kaiba need, and so have made the necessary arrangements."

I heard and tried to understand everything he said, right up until he mentioned a certain name. "What? What does he have to do with this?"

Again, I could have sworn there was amusement in those unnerving eyes. Blue bled to violet and then shifted back to emerald green, a jewel tone that I had previously thought only cats could possess. "He and thou are alike in many ways. Thy arrogance will counter his and in doing so, teach something greater to both. Thus, thou wilt be bonded to him as soon as thou accepteth thy fate."

My mouth opened in disbelief, even though I wasn't sure exactly what he meant by bonded. But by the way he had described it, I had a good sense of what it would entail, and I was still pretty sure that I would be happy if I never saw Seto Kaiba again in my entire life. "No, I won't accept it! There's no way you'll get me ever to 'bond' to someone like him!"

Asriel looked at me and a half smile definitely graced his lips, which only increased my ire. "Angels have their duties too. Thou will have much to learn about yourself and I must introduce thee to our sisters and brothers."

"But you just can't!" It wasn't my duty to take care of Kaiba and even the thought was utterly ludicrous. Kaiba didn't want to be taken care of, anyway, and he wasn't even the kind of person who needed someone to look after him. I imagined suggesting something along those lines to him and imagined his expression. Weren't angels omniscient? Didn't they understand that he hated me with a passion that I reciprocated? "I'd rather be dead, Asriel. Really dead!"

The amusement was gone in the blink of an eye and Asriel frowned, an expression that seemed so wrong on his face that even my indignation was dampened. "Do not say that, brother. Thou hast no choice, for thou hast been Chosen. This second chance is a gift and it is not wise to scorn such gifts."

"But you're telling me that this is the price?"

The frown grew darker and I shut up. "Our sister, Ariel, will help thee through the bonding rituals, and you will understand. Sometimes the bonding 'tis not simple, but she is skilled at bringing together angel and human. A bond is for-ever, Amelda, and cannot be destroyed, save by the death of the mortal. Thou wilt receive instruction from Ariel."

For-ever. The word rang in my mind like a death knell. I couldn't believe all of this was happening to me. "In three days I'll be sent back to…to my normal life?"

"Yes. Thou hast begun to understand."

No. No, I really didn't. I wanted to grab and shake him until he gave me more answers—better answers, the ones I wanted to hear. I wanted to know that I had not been murdered by some Kaiba Corp employee, that I was not dead and not an angel, and most of all, that I was not about to be stuck with Kaiba for the rest of eternity. But before I had time to voice any of these protests, a second angel appeared.

Her wings were silvery-grey, and I was surprised because my own—had I just admitted that I had wings?—were white, and so were Asriel's. She looked very similar to Asriel save that where short, glossy dark curls adorned Asriel's head, golden waves cascaded down her back from hers. Her eyes didn't shift color, for which I was grateful. They were summer sky blue and her face was delicately heart-shaped, with a delicate flush across her cheeks. She must have been beautiful as a human but she was breathtaking as an angel. She was exactly what I would have imagined as a classical angel, especially when she smiled at me with such sweetness and goodwill.

"I am Ariel and I have come to help you. Do you feel it yet, Amelda? There will be great pain, but it is brief, and then your lessons with me may begin."

Well, at least she was a clear indication that I would not suddenly start spouting 'thees' and 'thous' like her brother did. I was about to ask her exactly what she meant by 'pain,' when suddenly I did feel it.

It was so intense that I would have fallen to my knees if Ariel hadn't suddenly slid an arm around me, helping support almost all of my weight. It was like being shot again, only this time it was over and over again. I gritted my teeth but could not suppress a short cry; Ariel's hand was holding mine and the intense pressure helped diffuse the pain a little. Still, I jerked in her grasp and completely involuntary tears came to my eyes. In some distant, vague part of my mind that wasn't frozen with the sensations, I noted that she was far stronger than she looked.

"Bear with it, Amelda. I am sorry, but it is necessary. It will pass soon." She brushed my hair away from my face as she gently lowered me to the ground, or what passed as the ground here.

The pain was fading quickly, and in a few moments I realized I could breathe again. Still, the whole experience had been such a shock. I still shuddered, the memory of pain still vivid in my mind.

She smiled at me approvingly. "A brave soul. Not many can withstand so much suffering for even the barest of moments. Perhaps this was why you have been Chosen."

"What was that?" I barely had the strength to ask, but I had to know.

"All of Seto Kaiba's pain," she explained gently. "You only needed to experience it for a few heartbeats. The bond is now complete."

"So…it came from him?" At her affirmative nod, I didn't know what else to say. Part of me was still horrified that I was being bonded this way to my enemy, someone who probably couldn't even stand to talk to me. The other part of me was utterly appalled that what I had just experienced had come from someone as aloof and controlled as Kaiba. I couldn't reconcile the discrepancy. How could Kaiba have suffered so much, or be suffering it still, and give no outward sign of it?

If it had lasted another moment more, I think I would have just passed out from it. It had been that unbearable, and I couldn't imagine that it had come from his soul.

Ariel saw my expression and seemed to read my thoughts. "He needs you and you need him," she said gently. "Your biggest challenge will be to learn forgiveness, for what has been done to you in the past, but also for your mortal death. Only then can you be truly released and earn your wings."

"But I hate him," I told her, and then I told her something I had never shared with anyone else—the truth, which was what bothered me more. "He hates me. That's all that needs to be said about it."

"Perhaps what you say is true, but it is much more complex than that, is it not? Amelda, you will need to learn to let go of all this ugly hate and fear." She regarded me compassionately, and I found that harder to take than Asriel's formality. "As an angel, you will face many perilous things. It is not every angel that is bonded with a human, and not every human with an angel. Only if there is great need, and," she smiled with lovely charm, "there appears to be so."

I stared at her and thought of how my life had suddenly been flipped upside down. All that I had created with Devastation seemed years and years ago, and although I had only finished a performance when I had been killed, I no longer remembered what song it was that I had sung.

"Will you swear an oath to protect your bonded mortal, Amelda? Will you watch over him?"

I should have laughed at the idea. I should have rejected it all, the wings, everything. But I could still feel the echoes of the pain I had felt and it resonated with my soul. It slipped out naturally, as if I had never had any other choice.

"Yes," I whispered.

As I looked into Ariel's summer sky eyes, I understood that I was an angel now, like it or not. In more than one way, I hadlost my life. Everything that I had known was gone.

That is, everything except Seto Kaiba. He was still part of my life, apparently now more so than ever.

o o o

A/N: Please review!