Michael shut the door to Raphael's office quietly behind him and walked away at a clipped pace. Why did he act that way? Why did he say those things? Why did he...
Thoughts of a similar fashion filled his mind as he swept through the halls. It was only later, when he found himself in his own office, that he recalled hearing the concerned queries that had followed in his wake and his giving the order that no one should bother him unless it was an emergency or of extreme importance and needed his immediate attention. He barely remembered locking the door, making a beeline straight for the bedroom in his attached apartments -- more thankful than any instance before that they existed -- and the quiet sanctuary amid the lush pillows of his bed. He couldn't remember when the tears had begun to blur his vision.
But he definitely recognized the sharp pangs in his heart to be familiar.
"God..."ยน
Unconsciously, his fingers went to his lips. Unbidden came the memory of the sweetness of Raphael's lips against his, and the soft smile that accompanied that memory.
"Why... Why did I do that...?" he whispered to no one at all. "Why did I--"
No. No, he couldn't bring himself to say it. He couldn't. The flittering whisper in the back of his mind chanted over and over that if he said it, someone would hear. And no matter how absurd the thought seemed, he still dared not say anything aloud.
'Why, indeed. Of course you know why. When will you admit it?'
"Anata wa dousei no ki o hikou to shita koto ga arimasu ka?"
'Too close... It was too close...'
"I meant it, you know. Every word I said back then, everything I've ever said. I meant it."
He did. God only knew how much he did. Had Raphael thought everything Michael had said and done just the usual quirks of his first-in-command? Had he been aware that Michael had been serious, that none of it had been the game it seemed to be?
"Usotsuki."
The word surfaced, as bitter as the tears he held back with a desperation that would have surprised him had he noticed its intensity. Of course Raphael knew. He wasn't second-in-command in Valhalla for nothing. They'd known each other for too long for him to think that Michael was just playing around. He knew and did nothing but take it into stride.
'Of course he would. He's married. He has Gabrielle.'
Then, '...Why do I even think these things?'
The question was not unfamiliar. Who knew how long he'd been asking it, though he never got an answer. He knew the rules just as well as anyone -- better than most, in fact, being in his position -- and he knew the consequences if those rules were broken. For him to be having these thoughts... It was blasphemous.
Oh, but he did think them. And it was a vice on his heart that tightened every time he laid eyes on Raphael. It hurt, so very much, to be thinking this way, feeling this way, knowing it was wrong and not quite caring, and for nothing. Yes, he knew it now as he'd always known it, nothing. He was stupid enough to entertain the thought that there ever would be something.
Yet his foolish hopes refused to die.
"Michael?" The inquiry was accompanied by knocking.
He sank down into the pillows at recognizing the voice, feeling unable to hold himself up. His golden curls spilled about his face as he shut his eyes, willing the visitor away.
"Michael?" His name came again, the voice tinged with concern. "Are you all right?"
'No, of course not,' he thought bitterly, as the pain in his heart grew at every word, every knock, until he thought that it would take over him completely and he would be gone. 'And there's nothing you can do about it short of--'
Oh, how close he was to finishing the thought.
Michael forced his voice steady, if only for a few precious moments, and, with every word another needle that lanced through him, called out, "I'm fine, Raphael. I'm busy. If you have something that calls for my attention immediately, I'll be right there."
There was a long silence. He could sense the other archangel still there at the door, feeling-- What? Concerned? Indecisive?
Part of him wanted Raphael to say that yes, this was an emergency, and to let him in right now. The rest of him wanted to be left alone. At the moment, with his mind going in a forbidden direction, there was no telling what he would do if the tall, dark-eyed angel came in.
'No. Don't think about that.'
"It's nothing, Michael-sama. Forgive me for disturbing you."
Raphael's footsteps -- why hadn't he heard them awhile ago? -- faded down the hallway and he was left once again in silence.
'What is wrong with me...?!'
His eyes caught onto a framed photograph on the small bedside table. The picture was of Chihaya, Kagetsuya, Raphael, and himself, taken before the former pair's first investigative mission to Earth. He had Chihaya in his arms, the both of them grinning, while their counterparts stood on either side of them and looked directly at the camera in their calm, stoic, no-nonsense manner.
"You never mentioned hurting this much, Chihaya-kun," he said softly, as if the youth himself was there, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Then again, perhaps you didn't even experience it like this." A sigh. "I wish I had your courage...... But would that have been wise... for God to have given me such a thing?"
'............Maybe...... Maybe this is for the best...'
+ + + + +
Raphael found himself staring at the door for a long while after Michael left. That look in the blonde's eyes...... Raphael had never seen him like that before. His eyes were so sad, he looked almost... fragile.
"Some rules have to be broken, or the pain builds and tears you apart."
'...Michael...'
There was that familiar feeling that ran through him, unchecked. He didn't want to know what it was; and, he'd admit it himself, he was too frightened of what he might find. So he let it go, tried to ignore it, even when it made him dizzy with -- with... He veered his train of thought away from that track and tried to focus back on his book.
Which, unfortunately, didn't happen. His mind was stubborn, wanting to go back to Michael's actions before he'd left.
'Why did you do that? Why did you...... Dare I say it, why on Eden did you... kiss me...'
His friend's last few lines ran through his head. He heard them as if he were reliving those moments again. Michael had never before acted like he just did. Raphael wondered what had brought it all about. Surely, it wasn't the business with Nuriel and Teleise. Michael would never have looked so upset -- yes, the archangel had been upset, he saw that now -- if it was merely that.
It couldn't have been his finding out that Michael had been keeping in touch with Chihaya. No, the other angel had only been rebellious about that. Not that Raphael didn't understand why he would do such a thing. The two were very close, as if Michael was truly Chihaya's biological father and not just his adoptive one; despite what his superior claimed to be his reason for adopting the youth in the first place, they had gotten quite attached to each other. The fact that he had risked so much for the black-winged angel in breaking the law in times past -- and present, he added with wry amusement -- showed just how close they were.
"Anata wa dousei no ki o hikou to shita koto ga arimasu ka?"
He hadn't really been thinking when he voiced that query; the tangent their conversation -- or rather, something more of an argument -- had been going on led there and the question was out of his mouth before he could think about it and its implications. Not to mention, his partner's possible reactions to it. The blonde's answer had thoroughly surprised him, and then some. Long after that time, he had pondered that particular exchange. Yes, Michael had been dead serious that time. His eyes had held the same mix of sorrow and defiance they did today and, despite his tendency to brush off something like that when it came up, whether with an evasive answer or some jest, he had answered right away and with a conviction that could not be mistaken for anything else.
Raphael had not known how to respond to that answer then and he still didn't know what to think of it now. He touched his bottom lip slightly, still feeling the faintest memory of the touch of Michael's lips. What had driven the angel to kiss him... He couldn't fathom it.
Having gone nowhere in his book, he set it down, not bothering to bookmark the page he was on, suspecting that he would never get to reading it again for quite a while. His eyes, just like his thoughts, strayed around the room.
It was possible that Michael truly felt something for him, and, he reflected, and maybe... just maybe... if Raphael weren't married, he probably would have acted sooner.
Married...
It was funny. That was a word for a long-lasting bond between two people. And, if he could believe that, he might as well have been 'married' to Michael. He was married legally to Gabrielle, yet, he had to admit, he felt something more for his archangel partner than for his wife. Not that he didn't care for Gabrielle, except... He thought of her as more of a sister than anything else. Their marriage had not really been their choice, but the product of a political agreement between their parents. They were promised to each other at an early age, and their marriage had sealed the pact.
Having been thrown into such an arrangement, he supposed they could say that they did well. They'd had no dislike for each other when they were introduced during their last year of grade school. In fact, they'd gotten along quite well -- much to their parents' delight. Neither of them had known what to think of their marriage; it was strange, bewildering, to be thrown into such an arrangement. That was one thing they could share, their thoughts on the whole thing.
They had grown up as best friends, as close as if they were siblings. Their marriage had not changed that. They treated each other the same, the wedding bands on their fingers just a symbol of a pact not of love -- at least, not a love that went past familial -- but of politics.
He lifted his hand now and looked at the golden band on his ring finger. For Gabrielle, he felt affection, love for her as if she was part of his family.
...And what about Michael? What did he feel for him?
Some degree of love, certainly. They had known each other for a long time -- years he hadn't bothered to count and wouldn't bother to now -- had worked closely as first- and second-in-command of Valhalla. And Michael was fun to be around, always ready with a grin and a joke. He made friends everywhere he went; his smile would disarm the most uptight of strangers -- and that was if they weren't already immediately charmed by his boyish looks and manner. Even when business called for him to be serious, there was still something that drew people to him, a charisma that was just about irresistible. That, combined with intelligence and diplomatic skill, was what had gotten him where he was now.
But... how far exactly did that 'love' reach?
Even if he wanted to answer that question, he wouldn't have one.
With a frustrated sigh, Raphael stood. His mind a jumble of questions with no answers, he left his rooms for a short walk. He didn't know where he was going, only trusting his feet to take him where they wanted to go, absently acknowledging the people who greeted him.
He kept picturing Michael in his mind, kept hearing him. He remembered the hurt and the longing in his voice and clouding his blue eyes.
'I should check on him.'
The thought came suddenly, but he balked a little at the idea. And do what exactly, without further escalating things between them? He didn't quite know, but he had a feeling he wouldn't get any rest until he saw Michael again.
"Aria," he hailed a servant passing through the halls.
"Raphael-sama," she smiled and bowed.
"Have you seen Michael-sama?"
"Yes, just a little while ago. I think he was going to his room, Raphael-sama."
"Thank you, Aria."
"Anytime, sir!" She bowed again before continuing on her way.
He walked down the way she came. As he neared Michael's apartments, a guard stopped him.
"Raphael-sama, Michael-sama wishes not to be bothered unless it's an emergency."
"Aa. It's all right. I'll only be a minute."
The young man hesitated; it seemed he was new to his job -- or at least, his station -- and was unsure of how he was supposed to act. After all, Michael was the commander of Valhalla. Then again, Raphael ranked nearly as high, so close that, to those who worked closely with them, the difference between their stations was just about irrelevant. Finally, he nodded, though he still looked a bit uncertain.
"I-- I guess it's up to him if he could see you."
Raphael nodded and gave him an encouraging smile before continuing. Michael's rooms were at the end of the hall, closed and locked.
Michael rarely, if ever, locked his door this time of day.
Remembering the guard's words, Raphael knocked. "Michael?"
Only silence answered him. Curious. He was inside, since the door was locked and the guard wouldn't be there without a reason. He never for a moment considered the possibility that Michael had done all this then left from his balcony, as he was wont to do when he was younger. Now, if the walls were not smooth and devoid of any handholds or footholds, or if there was a trellis or pipe situated near a window or the balcony, Raphael might not have put it past the other archangel to make an escape. Had they been younger, of course, Raphael told himself with an inward smile as he knocked again.
"Michael? Are you all right?"
There was a pause, before he heard a muffled, "I'm fine, Raphael. I'm busy. If you have something that calls for my attention immediately, I'll be right there."
He stood there for a while, silent. Michael obviously did not want to see him. But was it just him or was it everyone in general? The order he gave to the guard certainly implied the latter, but he suspected that was not the reason it was given out in the first place.
He wanted to say, yes, there was some important business he needed to see Michael about immediately. But what could it be? He was off today, after all, so it would not sound right. Neither could he say it was an emergency, for if there was such a thing, Michael would have already been alerted.
He did not want to say he was there because of what had happened earlier.
So instead, he settled for saying, "It's nothing, Michael-sama. Forgive me for disturbing you."
Raphael hesitated once more before walking away. 'Coward. Why didn't you just tell him?'
He at least had an answer to that question. He would only hurt Michael further.
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1: 'God' or 'Kami,' 'God' or 'Kami'... Oh, man, that was hard. But 'God' kinda sounded better with a lot of the sentences, so I went with that. And I'm clearing away the Japanese.