Layers

Chapter Nine

By: Brenli and Jael

A sleek, black pen twirled in one hand as the other rested over an equally sleek, black mug full of coffee.

"Prime Minister, sir?"

"I'll be in a meeting shortly."

"Of course, sir." The bright-eyed man was already half out of Prime Minister Raziel's office. "I checked in with all secretaries, no messages from any Uprising representatives..."

His head shook slowly as he frowned, clear, blue eyes shutting in frustration.

"There are some other messages-"

"I'll take them after my meeting." For the intern's sake, Raziel put on a smile that was weak at best. "I'll have you called in when it's over. Thank you."

The intern bowed before shutting the door, and Raziel switched off the alarm on his phone just before it could go off. Time for yet another meeting... He pushed open the top of his laptop – sleek, black, like most things in his office – and pulled up the camera. She was always very prompt, her laptop ready to receive his video calls...

This time, a round, pudgy face with big red eyes greeted him, snowy hair pulled up into a pair of little buns. "Raz...!"

That was all the child ever called him, really. Raz, or Raz Raz – she was a big fan of simple sounds repeated twice. "Hey, Bell Bell...! How are you, today?"

"Good!" Isobelle chirped.

A written message suddenly appeared in the chat window below the video feed: 'adga; sdll.' There wasn't much that made Raziel smile, these days, not with events as they were... Thank goodness for Nema's little girl. He allowed the grin to tug on his lips, and a laugh trembled in his words. "That's great...! Is your mother there?" He watched her nod and asked her, "Can you get her for me?"

She nodded again, looking somewhere beyond the screen and calling out, "Mamaaaa...!"

"Thank you, Bell."

The girl merely giggled in reply, the video feed on Raziel's screen shifting strangely. He briefly saw some plush quilts, and realized the laptop had been set on a bed.

"Sorry, Raziel..." Nema's voice could be heard as the laptop was picked up and moved. A blur of walls, a TV with some colorful children's show on it, and finally Nema herself slipped by, as she set her laptop down on her little table. "I was in the middle of tying myself up." He understood as her body came into view, hips first, camera seeming to pan up as she took a seat. A corset hugged her torso, wine red with a silver damask pattern, a silver-winged crest in the center of it.

"Corsets are finally making their return, Nema?"

"Finally, yes."

Raziel sipped his coffee before smiling, this time reserved. "Good to hear. You haven't been out of commission this long before... ever." An uncomfortable frown was shared between them, and he added, "Except for your pregnancies."

His small attempt to skirt around the subject seemed to help, her face lighting up with just the slightest of smiles. "Yes, except for then..." But then she brought everything right back to business. "So they haven't responded to you, have they?"

It wasn't much like Nema to want to stick to business like this... she loved to talk about her home life in a way that was almost obnoxious, in a way that made Raziel have to put a blunt stopper on her chatter at the risk of all her teasing. And yet all of that had disappeared ever since she'd been injured... "No, they haven't. But I'm going to keep trying... They were easy enough to reach, before."

"I'm telling you, they're not going to arrange any more meetings with you, Raziel." Nema spoke quietly. "They're not a special interests group, anymore. They're not protesters, anymore. They became a terrorist organization three months ago, when they attacked us, and they're not stupid enough to assume otherwise."

"They need to answer for the attempt on your life."

"I'm sure they think they already have." She spoke into the cup of tea she lifted to her lips. Still peppermint, to settle her stomach. Just to be safe. "Judging from the way they have their followers doing all the talking, for them."

Raziel paused as she drank her tea, and found himself acting as uncharacteristic as she was. "... Nema, are you doing okay over there?"

She was honest, shaking her head, her teacup clanking against a saucer. "I'm just... I don't know. I'm just waiting for them to come back, and I can't even fucking..." She made little motions with her hands, fingers stretching wide like little bursts, "... at all, and I swear to God, Raziel, I am suffering from the worst case of cabin fever ever...!"

He frowned and offered, "We can push this meeting forward-"

"No." Nema insisted. "We're here, now, and I want to stay on top of the Uprising. If this even counts."

Raziel could taste the bitterness coming right through the speakers on his laptop. "Well, until we can get through to their reps, or until they reach out to us, things with the Uprising are... much the same."

"A lot of gloating about me." She said flatly. "Knocked down to their level and all those other things they keep spouting up there."

Clear blue eyes met moody red ones through the screens on their laptops, and a frown creased Raziel's mouth. "You can't let what they say get to you now, Nema. You've been able to keep good face in spite of the smear campaign thus far..."

Her eyes narrowed just slightly. "I have been violated. A part of me stripped away. I'll be as upset as I want to be." Her lashes fell over her eyes, and she took a breath in through her nose. "It's a good thing I'm not up there, right now..."

"... I agree." Raziel said quietly. "But... we may need to draft up a written statement for you to release."

"For what?" Nema's pale fingers curled around her teacup and lifted it to her lips. "For their gloating? What am I supposed to say? 'I'm just like you, now, I'm so humbled'?"

"No, they..." He paused and began shuffling through his day planner. "Look, Nema, you're upset. We don't have to have this meeting now..."

"Raziel." The teacup clinked against the saucer, again. "What happened? What do I have to answer for, now?"

He hated the way she worded that... "You don't have to answer for anything, just..."

Nema's mouth pursed into a frustrated pout, her hands flailing just slightly. "Just talk to me, Raziel!"

"The smear campaign has twisted itself, a bit. The followers of the Uprising make claims that... you haven't been knocked down enough pegs."

Her snowy hands drifted out of the screen, settling in her lap as she stared at him with a face more and more sober. "... So... what are they implying here? Death threats?"

"No." He was quick to correct her. "Not death threats. It's the same argument they've been making. That you don't... really understand them. That you're not... 'on their level.'" He quoted the phrase with this fingers.

Red eyes narrowed all over again. "Well I can't be knocked down to their level and not be on their level. They need to make up their minds."

Raziel nodded. "Well... if we can find a more... politically correct way to word that, we can make that your written statement."

"What are they even asking for?" Nema didn't seem to hear him, hissing, ivory strands of hair swaying as she shook her head. "An autobiography?"

"Maybe that couldn't hurt..."

"I'm not writing about my life, Raziel."

"No, you don't need to write a book, but..." He paused, twirled his sleek, black pen in his hand. "... They feel this way because they don't feel like you've... suffered in ways that they have."

"I haven't suffered in ways that they have. I don't know what it's like to live in poverty and starve. I'm not going to lie."

"But that alienates you from them. You need to find a way to get them to relate to you. Then they will feel like you relate to them."

It was times like this when Nema felt like she wasn't cut out to do any of this political gaming... it was too much manipulation for someone as straightforward as her. "Well, Raziel, I don't know how I've suffered in the ways that they have. Classmates in Assiah picked on me for being albino. Rabbit Hunters kept trying to pick me off when the Hunting moved down here. That's literally it."

God, Raziel knew this was a horrible idea. He hated every single inch of it, and yet he knew the people in his office were buzzing with the suggestion... "It doesn't have to be that... abstract."

"Well then there's literally nothing, Raziel. Why couldn't the Revolution have been started by me because I felt we deserved freedom and that's it? Why is that just so hard to understand?"

"Well there's... when you were twelve." Raziel could practically taste the bile in the back of his throat.

The exceedingly long silence didn't help.

"There are so many women who were lost during the Hunting because they were ra-"

"I am not talking about what happened when I was twelve."

He frowned as he stared at all the enraged shock that had suddenly flooded her face. And he'd known that would happen, and yet his office kept on entertaining the idea... "You could speak to other survivors-"

"That is not what you said to me. You told me to talk about what happened to me when I was twelve so that I could win them over!" Nema's anger had been quiet, hissing, but suddenly her voice raised loud and sharp. "If that's your great idea you can go fuck yourself, Raziel!"

He knew he deserved that... "Nema, I know this isn't my place but-"

"No! It's not! It's so fucking far from your place!"

"Can you hear me out...?"

"No. But you can hear me out!" Nema's lips quivered. Oh God, she'd been feeling irritable for months, but this had set her off in a whole other way. It had blindsided her, tore her open and brought too much to the surface. "You cannot take something like that and use it as a political tool. You can't. Way to take something so horrible you can't even imagine it and take it lightly!"

"That's not what I meant!" Raziel spoke over her, hoping the people in his office weren't getting curious.

"Oh, then what did you mean, Raziel? What makes you think I even want sympathy from people that I have to talk to about my rape-" She paused, her voice cracked, her breath drew in ragged, "... in order to win their support? If that's what it takes, then I'm sorry! No! Let them hate me!"

"But you need their support, Nema!"

"I don't need the support of anyone who's only going to sympathize with me if I talk about my rape!"

Raziel turned the volume down on his laptop. "You don't need their support as a person, but you need their support as a leader!" Nema breathing had become deep and angry, and Raziel knew he should have listened to the cautious voice that had been whispering in his ear. But too late, now... "That is how politics work. The more important you are, the less you belong to yourself, Nema. They call you the Queen of Rabbits. You have to represent your people." He paused again, allowed her to absorb what he said before he said softly, "I'm sorry I brought up the idea. Everyone here has been suggesting you should do something like this; someone would have brought it up to you at some point. The followers of the Uprising feel like you have no real connection to their plight. You need to-"

"I don't need to talk to anyone about my rape! Anyone! And that's my right because it's my story and my fucking trauma and if I don't want to fucking flaunt that shit then I don't have to, Raziel!" Nema's cheeks were red with rage. "I can represent our people with my whole heart without having to subject myself to that! Because that piece, that ugly fucking piece of me, that's my piece and I can do whatever the Hell I want with it and no one can tell me no!" Her voice had risen into screams, and Raziel had needed to turn the volume on his laptop even lower. "And for a whole race of people who are so horrifyingly familiar with rape, I hope to God they understand that! They have to fucking understand that! If they don't, then that's...!" Her voice cracked, the camera caught the shine of tears lining her eyes. "That breaks my heart...!"

The Prime Minister's golden brows furrowed together in sadness. "... Do you need a moment-"

"No, fuck you! If you have something to say just fucking say it, Raziel!" Her voice hitched and whined in all the warning signs of sobbing.

He paused, anyway, before quietly speaking, "... I'm sorry. That was a horrible suggestion."

"You think?"

He deserved that. "I'll make sure everyone here knows the idea isn't going to fly. That should stop all the water cooler talk..." He brushed his golden hair off of his forehead and continued with a frown, "I'm just... worried. We need to find a way to get the people's support back up and... I don't have any ideas. And now the Uprising is..."

What else could Nema do but shrug helplessly, still on the edge of tears...? Her ruby eyes focused beyond her laptop, and suddenly her tears slipped free, through her lashes, down her cheeks. "Isobelle's crying; I have to go."

Sure enough, Raziel could hear the beginnings of childlike sobs in the background of Nema's feed. "Go comfort her. We'll work out some kind of written statement later..."

"Bye." Nema was more than through with this conversation, and it showed all over her tear-streaked face. "Bell Bell...!" She called out to her daughter, shutting her laptop and hurrying over to her, even as she cried. "Oh, baby, come here...!" Pale arms reached for pale arms, and Nema lifted her little daughter into a mother's embrace, "Hush hush... no more crying..."

"Mama's mad...!" Isobelle wailed.

"No...!" The lie broke apart in Nema's mouth. She brushed the tip of her snowy-colored nose against Isobelle's, "Mama's not mad...! Mama's not mad, Bell Bell..."

But the girl only reached up and slipped her pudgy hands across her mother's wet cheeks, letting out another wail. "Mama...!"

"Shhhhhh shh shh..." What else could Nema do but comfort her daughter and let that comfort flood back into her? God, she needed the embrace just as much as Isobelle did. She needed to bounce her in her arms just slightly and cry and coo, "Mama's okay... Mama's okay..."

A knock on her door momentarily shook her, and she sniffed back her tears as she crossed the room to answer it. "Oppa..." was already on her lips as she pulled the door open. She had many visitors daily, but her oppa always seemed to stop in a little before lunch, hoping to catch her for tea... even if his tea was always heavily laced with blood.

"Nemaelle...!" The concern flowed smoothly from his tan lips as he stepped in and shut the door behind him. "What's wrong?" Mother and daughter both crying...? Something must have happened...!

"It's nothing..." Nema tried to brush it off, even as two more tears made lines along the curves of her face.

Jinho wasn't convinced, reaching out a white gloved hand to delicately brush his fingers along the crown of Isobelle's head. "You're both so upset-"

"I don't wanna talk about it right now, oppa." Nema's voice was a careful mix of firm and smooth, toeing the line between being forceful and not ruining Isobelle's mood even more than it already was... "Maybe later."

He honored her demand with a small, sad smile and a short bow of his head. "After tea, perhaps?"

"Perhaps," She said weakly, but she knew in her heart that she just... couldn't talk to him about this. She could be as open as ever about the Uprising and things with Raziel and so much of her life, but... that day, when she was twelve...

It was nothing against the Gehenna Vampire, but if she was going to talk to anyone about what had just transpired, she was going to talk to Michael, when his training session with Lilith was over. Michael was the only person she could talk to about that day, though she hated the guilt that still crossed his face when she did. But he listened and he held her and he never treated her any differently for those rare moments when she'd ended up crying to him about what had happened... He was everything she needed. She liked to tell him it was the little bit of Guardian Angel left over in him. He liked to tell her that didn't make any sense, but if his smile meant anything, he loved that idea just as much as she did...

"There's your smile." Jinho spoke quietly, that small smile of his growing. "Maybe we should further distract you from whatever it is that's left the both of you in tears... Maybe we should go outside and watch Michael and Lilith train."

The suggestion spurred a laugh from Nema's lips, and she rolled her eyes as Isobelle sniffled and snuggled against her mother's chest, her head resting on Nema's pale shoulder. "And listen to Lilith whine the whole time?"

A corner of his mouth lifted in a crooked smile, a smile that came off just as charming as all his other smiles. "She's never had to learn to defend herself, Nema..."

"I'm not judging her for that." Her boots crossed the room, and she reached out with her free arm to pull aside the curtains falling over one of her windows. "It's just... the whining." She laughed, looking over her shoulder at him. "I know Michael is a tough teacher, but you'd think that by now she knows the whining is useless."

"I'm sure she knows." Jinho said simply as he stood beside her, looking down into the courtyard. He spotted the crown of Nathan's head, sunlight making his messy, ivory hair seem to glow. Further away, Michael and the former Dragonmaster were in the midst of sparring, Lilith's champagne blonde strands pulled back into a sloppy bun made even more sloppy from the hours of training in the heat. "But it's a habit for her to be vocal."

Another laugh bubbled up and out of Nema. "Being vocal... Oppa, you're too nice. She sounds like a banshee...!"

The Gehenna Vampire's smile grew, happy to see Nema's previous sadness – whatever had caused it – fading fast. "Oh, that's not fair to say-"

"I am trying, you feathery-winged psychopath!"

The pair cringed in the windowsill, and Nema scoffed, "Yeah, not fair to say at all..."

xXxXxXx

"It sure doesn't feel like you're fucking trying!" The War Angel sent Lilith flying, her brown boots scraping across the dirt and grass. "Three fucking months we've been at this, Princess! Are you just too stupid to learn anything?"

"Fuck you!" Lilith snapped back at him, her honey-toned fingers touching the ground as the skidding stopped and she regained her balance. "I'm learning!"

"You've learned how to not fall over!" Michael hadn't even so much as broken a sweat, though they'd been out there training for hours, under the heat of the Sun. "I guess I should find that impressive. Giant fucking tits like those; it's surprising you don't fall on your face all the time!"

An angry scream tore from her mouth as she ran at him, but just like every other time before, he stood and waited for her. When Lilith crashed into him, all fists and fury, Michael only smirked and blocked her blows, maneuvering right through them and closing in on her. For the briefest of moments, she could feel the breath on her cheek, hear the snickering in her ear...

Before she knew what hit her, he'd grabbed her by her arms and tossed her right over his head. She just barely managed to land on her feet, but she still crumbled to the ground, growling and glaring at him. "Quit dancing with me!" She hissed.

"Quit dancing with me!" Michael retorted. "You're the one running at me all hands and flailing. The fuck are you trying to do? Hug me?" He stretched his arms over his head, planting his feet on the ground before motioning at her, "Get up! Come at me again!"

Again she charged at him. This time, he tripped her, one hand pushing hard against her chest and sending her right into the ground.

He crouched down, leaning over her with moody blue-green eyes. "I didn't say throw yourself at me. I said come at me!" He shoved her into the dirt and stood up, brushing his hands off and backing away several paces, to a sloppy pile of water bottles. "Again!" Michael clearly wasn't threatened, or even really invested in this training session, anymore. He cracked open a bottle and took a deep gulp or two.

Lilith groaned and sat up, frowning as she watched a little stream of water escape the corner of his lips. Watched him wipe the clear, shining trail away with the back of his hand...

"I don't have all day, Princess!"

"Why can't you shut up and be patient?" The Evil snapped as she scrambled to her feet, trying to shake her mind clear, but she knew better. Michael seemed to move and think and do everything mile-a-minute, no breaks in between... and he was the worst when he was training her, figuratively and literally running her right into the ground...

"Hey!" Michael ignored the way she jumped. He figured she would have gotten used to him revealing his wings and crossing the yard with a single sweep of them... he'd been doing that for three whole months, after all. "No one's gonna be patient when they're trying to kill you. They aren't gonna stand around and wait for you when they knock you on your ass, Lilith!" She stumbled backwards, and he merely followed her, closing in, ignoring the fact that she was several inches taller than him and glaring sternly at her. "They're going to come in close and they're going to slaughter you. They don't care enough about you to wait for you! Understand?"

She hated when he got in close like this, screaming at her... She hated the way it made her face burn. Maybe she shouldn't have been surprised. Fire Angel, and all... "But you're not going to kill me!" A gasp suddenly tore from her throat when his hands shot out, curling into the straps of her beige tank top and briefly shaking her.

"Well you need to treat me like I am." He held her there and he waited, eyes piercing into her own.

Lilith's face definitely felt like it was on fire, now... Somehow it was a lot more comfortable to focus on the blue dragon etched onto Michael's face, on the line of it, curling from his cheek and on down his neck. Her golden hands weakly pulled on his, trying to get him to release her. They felt sweaty against his own.

He shook her again, his eyes narrowed into slits. "Are you taking any of this seriously?"

"I-I...!"

"Are you taking this seriously?" His voice was suddenly a booming bellow in her ears, low and rough.

"I am!" Lilith cried, her breath short, still weakly trying to peel his hands off of her top.

"Do you want to die?"

"No!" She screamed at him, endured him shaking her a third time.

"Then fight!" He finally released her with a hard shove, stomping away, his white wings twitching in derision before disappearing. "Again!" He commanded before he'd even reached the other end of their space, before he'd even turned around to look at her.

An uncomfortable, tense shudder flooded her body, and Lilith hated it. This was no way for her body to react to any of this... she missed being short and scrawny and knobby-kneed. She understood that body so much better than this one...! Flustered, uneasy anger propelled her forward, a cry erupting from her throat as she sprinted, lunged, dared to land a kick on him.

His hands were briefly wrapped around her thigh, and despite herself, she shivered...

And then he'd thrown her to the ground in a pitiful heap, and gave her a frustrated snarl. "Again!"

She was back on her feet in seconds. She managed to dodge past his fists, to tackle him around his waist. For the briefest of moments she had him... until he kicked her, threw her right over his head before his back even hit the ground. The pair scrambled to regain their balance.

"Almost...!"

A rare smile lit his face, and Lilith hated the way her heart thudded heavy in her chest... Suddenly she was kissing dirt, knocked over, pinned.

"Dammit, Lilith!" Whatever brief satisfaction Michael had found was gone. He roughly shoved her into the grass and soil, stood up and yelled once more, "Again!"

She almost had him, for once... But then her stupid heart in her stupid body had to...! Again, she tried. Again, he tossed her to the ground like she was nothing...

"Again!"

Lilith had enough. "I'm done! I quit!"

"You don't have the luxury of quitting, Princess!"

"I said I'm done!" The Evil cried out in rage, her arm swinging out as if to banish him. She wished she could have. Then maybe her body would stop being ridiculous...!

Her vision was blinded by a great big wave of orange and gold and red, following the arc her arm had made. Her hearing went deaf with gasps and cries...

"Dad...!" From that obnoxious little Rabbit boy's mouth.

"Michael!" From the War Angel's wife, who had thrown open the window as soon as the flame had erupted from Lilith's own hand.

As soon as the fire had appeared, it died down, Michael waving one arm over the yard. His blue-green eyes were wide and bewildered. "Holy... shit!" The War Angel's hand closed around the smoldering ends of the ponytail trailing from the nape of his neck, killing the fire that singed his hair.

From the open window, Lilith saw Nema share a shocked, worried glance with Jinho, and then the Vampire was gone in a flash. "Fuck! I'm sorry!" Lilith swore and frowned and waited for Michael's retaliation, whatever it might be. She couldn't ever be sure how horribly he'd lash out. He'd hit her for less than this...

But a rough... pleased laugh left his lips. "Sorry? Fuck no! Bring the fire out again! Things finally got interesting!"

… What? Lilith blinked confused, dark red eyes at him as she sat there on the ground, seeing the smile on his face, feeling the thumping of her heart.

"Michael-sama...!" Jinho had left Nema's room to come down into the yard, his smooth voice speaking quickly with concern. "Are you all right?"

Michael's red brows arched, and he grinned. "I'm the fucking Fire Angel; of course I'm all right!" He pointed at the former Dragonmaster and spoke with laughter, "What I want to know is, why the Hell wasn't this brought to my attention?"

"I-I've never been able to, before...!" Lilith stammered, wide-eyed, confused. "They... they said my mother could, but I..!"

A confused frown creased Michael's lips, and his eyes met ink-black ones as Jinho explained, "From what I have heard... the manipulation of an element is a gift bestowed by the Shinryu to any who is or has been a Dragonmaster... but it must be nurtured. The late Queen Kurai fought hard and often..."

"... But not pampered Princess Lilith." Michael rolled his eyes. "Figures."

"Shut up!" Lilith snapped at the Angel, her lips pursed into a moody pout, scrambling to a stand. "And how do you even know this stuff?" She directed her question at the Gehenna Vampire, whose head tilted just slightly.

"The Elder Council told me so, when they were..."

"Oh. When they were selling me to you." She said flatly.

Jinho's shoulders slumped, barely discernible, at her choice of words, but Michael laughed loud before he could think of any reply for her.

"Well it's a damn good thing these past three months haven't been a complete waste of time!" He grinned, and spoke over Lilith's attempt at a rebuttal. "Okay, change of plans!" Michael strode over, reaching out his hands. "But first things first. Give me your arm."

Lilith took a half-step backward. "Why?"

"Give me your arm!" He grabbed it and pulled her forward, making her stumble in her brown boots. "Ready?"

"Ready f- ow!" Lilith immediately hissed and recoiled when Michael snapped his fingers, a little arc of flame seeming to splash at her flesh. She shoved him away and was alarmed that fire burst from between her fingers, and yet the flames did nothing to his skin.

Jinho stepped forward, a cry on his lips, "Lili-"

"Relax! I'm just figuring this shit out real quick!" Michael grabbed her arm again, staring at the spot of golden skin that had turned just slightly pink. A corner of his mouth pulled back in an inquisitive, curious quirk, "Okay. You're not as awesome as I am, then. Buuuuuut you're close." He released her arm with a smile, unaware of how her heart thudded heavily all over again. "Okay, Jinho, you need to get the fuck out of here. You might get roasted."

Jinho blinked wide, unsure eyes. "But Lilith is not immune to flame that she hasn't created herse-"

Michael cut him off with a laugh. "I'm not gonna burn anything but some fucking foliage or something! It's Lilith I'm trying to protect your ass, from!" He grinned and clapped a hand on Jinho's shoulder before shoving him back toward the house. "You too, come on." He motioned at his son with a jerk of his head, reaching out to ruffle Nathan's white hair.

"But I was watching...!" Nathan grumbled with a pout.

"Go up and watch with your mother; I can't have you out here, right now." Michael nodded up at the window and caught his wife's gaze. "Think I'll be out here longer than usual, today!"

Nema only smiled, but deliberately ran her snowy hand along the front of her corset. The three months he'd been spending training Lilith had also been three months... with no sex, no tangled limbs, no halfhearted attempts to muffle moans. But today she'd felt well enough to cinch herself in with steel boning. Surely, that was a positive sign...?

Michael grinned knowingly as Nathan ran back into the mansion, Jinho trailing after him. All these years together and sometimes she still seemed like she'd be the death of him... He was slow to take his eyes from her, but as soon as he did, the War Angel in him took the reigns again. "All right, Princess, get your ass where I'm standing! If you're gonna burn anything it's not gonna be the damn house!"

Lilith gave him a cat-eyed, confused glance, but obeyed, crossing paths with him as they switched places. "What are you trying to get me to do?"

"New method! You're learning things at a fucking crawl; maybe working on your fire is where we should be starting!"

The Evil wasn't sure if this was a great idea... "But I only just now-"

"You know the drill!" Michael spoke over her gruffly. "Come at me. No holds barred. I want you to try and kick my ass, Princess! And this time you're gonna use your fire to do it!"

"But I don't even know how I'm-"

"Come at me!"

Lilith blinked and found herself stomping her brown boot against the ground. "Michael, you're not listening to me!"

"Did you seriously just stomp your foot at me, Princess?" Michael scoffed. "Come at me! Come at me or I'll make you come at me!"

"But I-" Lilith did not have the chance to say anything else, suddenly dodging a wide and wild stream of fire. "Michael...!" Why wasn't he listening to her?

"Fight me!" He closed in on her, fire bursting all along his arms as he swung at her. The same brawling as before, but even more deadly, the fire an extension of himself she scrambled to run away from. "Fight me or I'll burn you alive!"

Desperation drove her to block a blow, though it meant moving through the fire... and found that the strange wave of fire returned, arcing with her blows, washing over Michael's arm.

"Keep going!"

She was only blocking him, and yet the pleased smile from earlier curled on his lips... Again with the heavy heart-thumping. Her body confused her endlessly... But she tried to ignore her confusion, tried to push back against all of Michael's speedy blows. Her fiery hand planted against his chest, and she actually managed a kick to his torso, forcing him back.

He didn't allow her any time to fully realize her success, immediately pouncing forward with a cry leaving his mouth. The first time he'd ever released a little battle cry like that... The first time he put forth real effort. "Don't let me down, now, Lilith!" He snarled as he managed to slip behind her, to place a kick of his own between her shoulder blades.

Lilith's flaming hands planted themselves on the ground, the grass burning into dried, black and ashy blades in the earth, and Michael descended to pin her. Before she could make sense of what she was doing, her boot connected with his chest again, and for the first time, she kicked him right over her head.

"Yes!" Michael found himself laughing, and he hurried in to continue sparring with her. They were all fiery fists and hard boots, and Lilith could see him seeming to mouth something to himself as they continued fighting. Eventually she was able to read his lips... 'I see... I see...'

How in the Hell was he managing to analyze her while they fought so wildly? And yet, Lilith knew this was no time to wonder anything. They both may have suffered from a little singed hair here, a little burn on clothing there, but she was the one whose skin wasn't impervious. She was surprised she didn't have any burns to go with the small one he'd purposely left on her as a test...

Suddenly fire raged orange and gold all around her, and she let out a fierce cry as she rushed right through it... landing a hit to Michael's face... forcing him back against a tree.

"Whoa...!" The hit didn't seem to affect him much, but he paused the fight nonetheless, one hand planted against the trunk of the tree while the other waved in a wide, swift arc across the air.

Suddenly Lilith realized that Michael had paused the fight to save the tree from being incinerated.

Suddenly Lilith realized that she was still standing near the wall of orange and gold. That she hadn't run straight through Michael's flames... she'd run through her own. She stood there, fists clenched, wide-eyed, chest heaving from exertion, watching Michael stand there with one hand on the tree, the other held out to stop her. His own chest was heaving... she'd actually managed to exhaust him? Even if only slightly? She blinked rapidly, looking down at herself, looking back up at him...

That wonderful smile lit up his face, and for the first time in three long, grueling months of training, he finally said it... "Good!"

Heat touched her face, that strange, tingling internal heat, and she found herself smiling with him. Finally she'd managed to please him...!

"Again!"

xXxXxXx

The hours had passed so much faster than Michael could have ever anticipated... How had the sun set so fast? How had night come upon them so soon? It really wasn't fair. For the first time since he'd started training this brat, he was actually enjoying himself...! Nonetheless, he called it. "All right, we're calling it a night!"

"Aw, why?" Lilith finished off the last water bottle with a sigh, "You're not getting tired already, are you?"

He scoffed, but smirked, "You fucking wish!" His fist tapped her shoulder. "You wait till tomorrow; your body's gonna hate you."

It felt good to not be at his throat for once, since the day she'd met him... "So what are you saying? No training tomorrow?" The idea was absurd... and, surprisingly, unwelcome. For the first time, Lilith had enjoyed his company. Spending time without him sent some strange hollow feeling through her torso... Her body needed to stop doing these things.

Michael laughed. "Are you fucking kidding? We've been at this every day for three months; I'm not stopping now just because you finally improved a little!"

Heat touched her face and filled her up, right down to her toes. Her body just wouldn't stop doing these things... "Same time, then...?"

"Same time. So you get your ass to sleep; we're meeting back here in 7 hours." He grumbled as he tapped the light on his phone, the time popping up at him.

"Yeah, yeah..." Before Lilith knew what she was doing, she'd bumped him with the generous curve of her hip as she passed him. Outright glee flooded her... She was confused, but... she almost didn't want her body to stop doing these things... She bit her lip, one fang pressing against the flesh, and she hurried off. "Later...!" She waved over her shoulder. Oh, she couldn't look at him... She wished she could talk to the Shinryu. She needed to talk to Jade about this...

Michael's brows had furrowed together at her parting contact, but he only snorted and shook his head. He'd never admit it to the bratty Princess, but yes, he was pretty damn beat... A yawn left his throat, and he looked up at the window that had been left propped open. He'd been so absorbed in sparring and analyzing and teaching Lilith, he didn't even know when his family had left the window, but the lights were all off...

He was quiet as he snuck into their room, the door clicking shut behind him. Quiet, but quick about showering off. God, he could almost just sleep in the damn tub, he was so exhausted...! He shut off the water and was so tired he simply stood there for a few moments, hands planted on the porcelain tiles that lined the walls, water dripping off of his hair, trailing down his body.

"You should turn the water back on."

Michael jumped, not having heard her so much as open the bathroom door. A true testament to how sleepy he was... Nema giggled softly as she slid open the glass door. She was every bit as naked as he was, and he chuckled back, "You're crazy."

"But you love that I'm crazy..." A coy smile curled her lips, and she insisted quietly, "Come on... the kids won't hear over the water. We-" Her words melted into a moan, muffled under the weight of his kiss...

"I have to be up in 7 hours, Nema..." His forehead rested against hers, "More like 6, now..."

"So take me hard... and fast..."

He sighed, smiled, but shook his head. "Not tonight..." He stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel and quickly drying off his hair.

"Why?" The ache inside of Nema dripped from that single word, pulling her lips into a sudden frown.

"I already told you, Nema. I've gotta be up early. Just like yesterday, just like every day." He gave her a confused frown of his own as he wrapped the towel around his waist.

"So take the day off." Her pale arms crossed over her chest.

"Nema, I'm not arguing with you about this. I'm fucking tired. I've been out there for over 12 hours. I haven't even had dinner!" He reached for the bathroom door, but Nema slipped in front of him, pressing her bare back against the cool wood.

"So isn't that even more reason to just take the day off?"

This time, his sigh was aggravated. "I can't take the day off; I'm finally getting somewhere with that brat...!"

"I saw. She nearly burned your hair right off."

"See, that's why I need to work on her even harder."

Nema's hands rested on his chest as she found herself... pleading with him. "You can take one day off, Michael. It's not going to ruin everything..." Her hands slipped down his torso, trailing every line his muscles made, slipping lower...

He caught her hands in his. "You know as well as I do that one day means a whole fucking lot, Nema. It's not like we know when your fucking Uprising friends are going to pop up next!"

"My fucking Uprising friends?" Try as she might to keep her voice low, to not rouse their children, she failed in that moment, snapping, glaring ruby-red daggers at him.

Michael shook his head, squeezed her hands. "I'm sorry. I'm tired."

She sighed and leaned forward to leave a line of kisses down the line of his tattoo, down his cheek, along his neck. "You need to relax..."

He reached out and pulled the door open, the air rushing in cold and almost sharp against their skin. He marched out into the darkness, heading for the door to their bedroom. "I need to sleep."

Nema wanted to just... whine at him. "It's been three months..." She murmured as she quickly grabbed the black button-down shirt, slipping her arms through the sleeves.

"I know how long it's been, Nema...!" He turned and snapped at her, realizing how loud his voice cut through the night air. He looked at her as she stood there, the shirt unbuttoned, the ache written all over her face, even in the dark. He took a breath and tried to keep his voice low, running an irritated hand through his half-dry hair. "... I need to sleep, Nema. I really do."

Nema looked down at her little bare feet and bit back all of her frustration. "... Okay."

He frowned and reached out, beckoning her forward. "Come here..." He pulled her into bed with him, held her, his skin pressed against hers...

… But it wasn't enough for her. She wanted more, ached for more. Nema bit her lip to keep the frown off of her face, her fingers trailing along his chest as she recounted her day... honestly? A horrible one. Fighting with Raziel and now fighting with Michael... All the words played through in her head, and the memory of this morning in particular sent tears to her eyes all over again. "... Michael?"

"Sleep, Nema..." His voice was already sluggish and lethargic.

Her lip quivered. She wanted to talk, at least... she needed to talk. "Earlier today-"

"Nema." Her name was a rumble in his chest.

She went silent, just like he wanted... blinking back tears and trying not to think about that morning and that evening and her burning need for him... willing herself to sleep.