Last time:
"What would Lunaus want with those souls?" Bulma asked, grinding her teeth.
"It wasn't Lunaus' doing, Bulma. He came on his own."
***********************************************************
"Let! Go! Of! Meeee!" 18 shrieked, her fingers clawing at the Gates of Heaven, her silky blonde hair a mess of tangles in her eyes. She was about to give whoever dared stop her a good kick in the shin, when they spoke.
"18, please, calm yourself," they whispered, smoothing down her flaxen locks.
"B-Bulma?" she whimpered, surrendering to her tender caresses, her body going limp in her arms. "You're back."
"And I'm not leaving again," she sighed, her heart heavy. Oh how she wanted to be back on Earth. But now she saw that it was simply impossible. "I understand that the Lord needs me. I was selfish before to think that I could stay away for so long and everything would remain peaceful." She kissed her friend quickly on the forehead, then steadied her and let go. "I swear, you'll never be let down by me again."
"But—"
"And you!" Bulma hissed, gently pushing 18 aside as she advanced towards the Gates. "What do you think you're doing here? You're not allowed anywhere NEAR these gates!"
"Such a temper for such a pure being," the Keeper of the Damned Souls laughed, his soft blue eyes catching every bit of light. "Why—" For a moment he thought he saw something in the angry angel's face that was familiar, though quickly dismissed it—she was only The First Angel—and said, "I didn't know that the Almighty allowed his angels to shout now."
"Why have you come?" she demanded, giving him no measure. He was evil, plain and simple.
"For the bartered souls, of course. I thought your lackey would have told you that."
"Hell has lackeys, Keeper," she sneered, her metallic silver wings quivering in anger. She loathed him that she couldn't enjoy her wings now, that she had to focus on him and not the joy that should be enveloping her now that she was home. "And the souls you speak of are good dead. There is no place in Hell for the good dead."
"On the contrary my queen," he laughed. "We have plenty of your dimwitted 'good dead', as you call them. Contracts made that possible."
"That matters not, demon. They are our souls. You cannot have them."
"Why not let them decide for themselves?" His eyes widened slightly as if he'd just thought of the most brilliant idea. "Oh! That's right!" he cried. "Decisions aren't good for those in Heaven. If God gives them leave, they take it."
"Really?" Bulma remarked, crossing her arms, her wings stretching fully behind her. "What about you? You stayed for eons after your brothers and sisters descended into sin. What right have you to say such things? Or, furthermore, what right have you to be at our Gates when you've been banished for centuries!!"
"To reclaim our souls. How many times do I have to say it?" He craned his neck forward. "Hey! Sis! Come! Come! Let your dear old brother inside!"
18's feathers ruffled. Her grip tightened on Goku's hand. Her eyes burned nothing but pure hatred. Hate for a brother whom she allowed herself to love completely, only to be betrayed in the worst of ways.
"Don't listen to him," Goku whispered, his arms now wrapped protectively around her shoulders, her back pressed comfortably against his chest. "He's only trying to coax you. Don't let him feed your anger. Ignore him. Be the miracle, 18. Overcome your hatred."
"Sorry!" 18 finally called, forcing the biggest smile she could. She tried to break free from Goku's grasp, though found she could only slightly loosen it. "I don't decide who comes in and who does not!"
"How is it that angels can be so spiteful? Isn't that a sin? Isn't that frowned upon here? And to think, I live in a place where what I do, no matter what, is accepted. Heaven is a prejudice place."
"That's not true, 17." Her voice was calmer now. She almost felt as though nothing ill had ever passed between them. And when she went to move from Goku again, he let her, though was quick to follow as she approached the Gates. She swung her arm around Bulma's shoulder and said, "You cannot love in Hell and still be accepted. You cannot do a good deed and still be accepted. And you certainly can't harbor feelings for me, which I know you still do. The Lord," she sighed. "That I can see. I understand your ill will towards him, and unlike the others here, I'm not afraid to say it. But my love for my Father runs deeper than any other feeling I possess."
"You're wrong on most of those counts, dear sister," he laughed. "You can love in Hell, absolutely. Love for your master is quite common there. And you can do good deeds if they benefit Hell in some way. But you are right about one thing." 18's arm fell from Bulma's shoulder and clasped a rung of the gate. "I do still harbor my feelings for you." Gently he enclosed her hand in his own, rubbing his thumb in slow circles. "You are my sister and nothing can change that. We shared a special bond that none of the other Experiments could have possibly comprehended. You are the only regret I have."
"I—" 18 began, though the words seemed to catch in her throat.
"I still love you," he whispered.
"I still…I…I love you too, 17," she all but whimpered, her legs beginning to tremble under her.
"And no amount of hatred that Lunaus instills in me shall change that. No—" He stopped abruptly and drew back as if wounded, his eyes wide with shock, though at the realization of his words—and feelings—his brows narrowed and he spat, "Now open the damn Gates, you Holy Harlot of the Lord!"
The harsh words immediately brought her from her stupor and she lunged at the Gates, her arms reaching through the bars to grab her brother. But before she could touch him—and he was well within her reach—Bulma and Goku both grabbed her and they tumbled to the ground, a mass of glittering feathers.
"The war is coming," 18 whispered, her breathing labored. "Our armies are growing by the second. All those souls you see just there, entering their kingdom, they will be transformed into angels. We shall defeat you evil beings once and for all, and you don't even stand a chance!"
"I so want to believe your words, dear sister," he sighed. "But the last time I did I ended up with an ugly reminder of my mistakes." He pointed disgustedly at his single white feather.
"It's beautiful," she remarked sarcastically. "Just like you. Ha! A beautiful demon! How ironic! How fitting!"
"Cut deeper 18," he urged. "Every jab is one step closer. Soon you shall reside with me, and we will be the happy siblings again. Your hatred makes you perfect for our world, and a strange in yours." He turned sharply on his heels and made to go. "Good-bye my lovely. I look forward to our next encounter."
A second later and 18 would have ended up on the ground. Though luckily Bulma and Goku were right there to break her fall, uttering words of reassurance as she lay crumpled in their arms, her eyes pouring celestial tears.
On Earth, it began to rain…
… and wasn't expected to cease for two dreary days.
***********************************************************
"You're inconceivable," Lunaus muttered, head in his right hand, elbow resting on the arm of his throne. A few paces away Vegeta stood, at attention, his face a stone cold mask of indifference. He knew exactly why he'd been summoned by his master and what the full extent of his punishment could be. He pretended that tending to his duties was a chore for him, when in truth he loved nothing more than doing with damned souls as he pleased. Only now, thinking on it as he was being stared down, as the years—No—as the millenniums rolled on, did he feel the ever-increasing weight of his job. Could there actually be something better out there? And if so, what was it? Could the answer lie on Earth?
Lunaus' sharp voice brought him around.
"I've already spoken with 17 on the matter, but—Vegeta! You, above all, should know better. How many eons are you his senior here?"
"Too many," he sighed, feeling that Lunaus had no right to question him this way. Was he not only one step beneath him? Had he not always been faithful and true? And weren't there other demons who deserved this more? He believed whole-heartedly that there were.
"How long have you been under my command?" Lunaus continued, ignoring his comments. "The laws of this realm are the laws of your life. And if you don't start treating them as such, I might just have to really crack down on you, and, as my First Demon, you know how much I would despise doing that. Do not push me!"
"Are we finished now?" Vegeta asked almost drowsily. "I have matters to attend to."
"Matters given you by me! They can wait. I want to discuss this mortal female you've been seen with."
Vegeta's entire form went rigid. How could he possibly—
"My scout went to retrieve you when you hadn't returned with the others. He saw you conversing with a 'saintly' mortal woman, as he put it."
"Your excellence—" Vegeta began, only to be cut off abruptly.
"Don't mock me!" he snapped, his hands gripping the armrests of the throne. "I trust my source, Vegeta, and your behavior will NOT be tolerated…Whether you were trying—for some ridiculous reason—to contract her soul, or simply converse with her, it cannot go on. Souls are what you deal in my son, not the living, and especially not anyone who can be described as saintly. This woman, whoever she is, is untouchable. Understand?"
"And why can we demons not converse with mortals? Are we not entitled to so little after eons of loyal service?"
"Vegeta, I simply cannot trust someone as foul as you with any virtuous mortal. I have seen angels perish over mortal ties. ANGELS! I will not have it happen to my prized demons."
"It does not happen with demons, father," he sneered, curling his lip. "We have powers angels pine for. We can blend into human life without the slightest want or need for acceptance. We can walk in and out of their lives and care not for their fragile feelings. We are all-powerful compared to them, and compared to the angels…If I didn't know better, oh Fallen One, I'd say you had a soft spot for mortals."
"Leave."
The words were spoken no louder than a whisper, and with seemingly no more force than an infants grip, but the authority behind it could not be questioned.
Vegeta bowed at the waist, his manner holding nothing but mockery, and backed out of the room.
"I cannot endure this," Lunaus groaned, his head slowly lifting upward. "My Father, how am I to continue on? My heart pines more strongly for you as time goes on…I love you, Father…"
**************************************************
"Your brother," Bulma muttered, her precious wings curled inwards in agitation. She'd been summoned home, long before she wished to leave the Earth, and at once was tending to "Hellish" matters. She despised Lunaus intensely at that moment, an emotion she despised in itself, making it impossible for her to escape it. "Of all the things he could have demanded…Our good dead!? Our plundered souls, plucked from the Earth in their prime with no knowledge of who their so-called 'saviors' were. The nerve of him! If Lunaus doesn't deal with him accordingly—"
"Bulma!" Yamcha snapped, stepping up to the group, his tasks complete for the time being. As it was souls were arriving fewer and further apart. And it wasn't only that they were descending into Hell, but that the Earth was becoming more technologically and medically advanced, thus prolonging human life expectancy.
"Yes, Keeper?" she hissed, trying to keep her feathers from ruffling. The only thing she did not miss about her wings was that emotion could be expressed by them, and in anger, Bulma could not control herself. Even the joy of having those wings back did not touch her then.
"First of all," he said, his strong black eyes piercing her with their innocence. He was not an angel, and yet he was permitted access to this realm. And he was not a dead mortal either, a conclusion that many "new" angels come to upon truly meeting him. He didn't have the angelic features or the lavish wings, though his charming smile and wind-swept coal-colored hair did give him the appearance of a celestial being. Sometimes Bulma found it hard not to stare at him, to wonder at his true purpose. There had to be more in store for this non-angel that walked hand-in-hand with the angels. "Bulma, are you listening?"
"Sorry," she mumbled. She'd been caught staring at him again. "Continue."
"First of all, you cannot address Lunaus as if he were an acquaintance of yours. I know you've known him personally in the past, the long ago past, maybe you were even a friend, but nothing about him now is familiar, and it should remain that way indefinitely." He drew in a deep breath, collecting himself. He so hated to give his "famous" lectures. Not only did he feel he was unworthy to preach to angels, but the angels seemed to listen to him with a mocking obedience. He greatly doubted that he would be accepted had the Lord not given him so much sway over the brewing war. "Lunaus is no friend to the angels, and, while I'm sure his minions would deny it, he is no friend to them either. He's trouble for us all, and his demons have yet to see his wrongful ways. And when they do, we'll have more than my darkened counterpart at the Gates."
"Second of all?" Bulma asked, her head tilted slightly to the side. There it was: mocking obedience. He wanted to glare at her, but only managed to curb a frown.
"Second of all, there is NOTHING any of us—" He stopped abruptly, his face seeming to be stricken with horror. Bulma and the others couldn't guess at what the problem was, until they replayed the words in their heads. He'd committed his self-proclaimed sin; he'd associated himself as their equal, as equal to an angel. Not once, but several times in his speech, and was only realizing it now. He shuddered and turned away. Never had he felt so ashamed in all his existence. Even far back in his infancy as a servant to the Lord when he'd boldly kissed The First Angel on the cheek.
"Yamcha," Bulma called as he bowed his head and trudged back the way he'd come.
"I have souls to tend to," he murmured. The Gates were already beginning to become crowded again in only a few short moments.
"Please, come back. You're not in the wrong!" She ran to his side and slid her arm around him, adoring the feel of his soft, yet useless garments. "You are not below angels in anyway. If anything you are envied by them. Look! There." She pointed almost frantically at the Gates. "You are the hope of every single one of those souls. And you're the hope of this divine kingdom. Without your admittance of souls, the war would be over before it began. I pray that we never lose you."
"I am nothing," he forced out, his entire frame shaking. He wanted to brush her comforting arm away. He did not deserve her kind words. He'd betrayed himself, broken his most sacred vow, "compared to the glory of the angels and all they stand for. What do I do, my love?" he whispered. "I herd in souls by the thousands for a sacrilegious war! What good is there in that? How can I justify my position when I know what all these souls will fight for? And nothing can solace the pain I feel for those poor mortals who become intertwined in the world of the angels. They were born with what those in Heaven can only ever dream of, only to come here and be recruited into a celestial war against the cruelest of creations? No." Finally he found the courage to push her away. "I cannot endure your forgiveness. Please, let me take my leave."
"But Yamcha!"
"Bulma, please, I beg of you as your inferior. Please, please, let me go. I will discuss this with you another time. Right now my place is with my souls. And I apologize for having lectured you. Sometimes I have no control over my sharp tongue."
The blue-haired beauty sulked back to her most belovéd of friends, her head hung in shame.
"How can he feel that way?" she whimpered, folding into Goku's warm comfort. "He knows how much I care for him, how much he's needed here, how much…how much—"
"How much you love him?" 18 ventured, her eyes small and fixed on the distant form of Yamcha at the Gates.
"Can I ask you both one favor, if I ask nothing else of you?"
They nodded solemnly. They knew what was coming next.
"Accompany me to Earth, OR—if you will not, for I am leaving as soon as I am permitted to—then will you travel to Earth on your own accord? And stay there for longer than a day?"
Again they nodded. There was no getting out of it this time.
*******************************************************
Goku walked uneasily beside his dearest friend, an ever-present dread pulling at his heart. He did not feel at home on this planet, nor did he feel others thought he belonged. All the while as they walked, arm in arm, he could feel a thousand eyes upon him at any given time; sharp, quick, large, imploring eyes, wondering who this man was that walked with their newly returned, and very precious, house maiden. Three months she'd been "missing", and seen in the company of a "dark stranger". Goku assumed this stranger was himself, though wondered at the citizens' behavior towards him. They were not frightened, only curious.
He decided not to brood about it too long. As Bulma had instructed, he was to "enjoy himself thoroughly" or else she wouldn't let him return. She considered his leaving her rustic cabin at the edge of the forest a big step.
"Don't be so tense," Bulma teased, pressing closer to him. "It looks as though I've kidnapped you."
"I'm twice your size," Goku murmured, hating the feeling of not being able to express himself with his wings. He shrugged his shoulders not knowing now to present himself.
At this Bulma let out a howling laugh.
"What?" he asked, almost hurt, stopping dead in the middle of the street. Several angry market-goers pushed by them. Bulma grabbed his arm and ushered him between two tents.
"Sorry." It was unbearable to try to keep her laughter in. "It's only that you're so obviously uncomfortable in your guise. But I know what you're going through. I was at a loss for my wings too. For months I did little things like shrugging my shoulders and moving my arms in odd directions. But once you get past that—"
"Bulma, I don't plan on staying that long. I have duties that demand my attention. I only asked the Lord for one Earth week. I can do no more."
She manner faltered some, her eyes dropping, then rising quickly again.
"Well, then," she sighed, trying to pick her cheery voice back up. "We'll just have to make the most of that week, now won't we?"
"And what are we going to do? I've seen all this when I visited you before. What more is there on Earth than these people who push by you or don't give you a second glance in their busy schedules? How can I feel that passion you feel? I don't understand it."
"Well, you will, trust me. In a week try to tell me the same thing and see if there's any feeling left in it. I doubt there will be."
"And just how can you ensure that? Bulma, I'm in agony being so far from the Lord for so long."
"It's been two days, Goku. Toughen up. You cannot face a demon with such a weakening need. When the war comes you will be without the Lord for so long you'll forget his presence. You know what I mean…Now, to answer your question, I shall ensure my promise by taking you to visit ma Grandmère."
"But you don't—"
"On Earth I do. Not literally speaking. But I love her as such. She's an amazing woman. Come! I've already promised to stop by. She's been worried sick in my absence. Damn 17…"
************************************************************
"Lunaus would have your neck, regardless of who you are Vegeta, if he knew what you were planning."
"Well, that's one good reason for you to not tell him, Council," he sneered, looking around for any sign of his master or one of his snooping scouts. Nothing. "I'm going to Earth whether it pleases you or not. I don't care what weight it puts on your conscience. If you're so damn worried about slipping up to the master, then accompany me. That way you can 'keep an eye on me' as I'm sure he would have done."
"No," Chi-Chi spat. "He wouldn't even allow you out of his sight for eons if he knew you were going to the Earth to spy on that mortal woman. What is it that you see in those creatures, anyway?" Her piercing black eyes seemed to match her raven hair perfectly in that moment. "And a virtuous one at that? I don't understand."
"And you wouldn't," he hissed.
"You have a soft spot for her, don't you?" Her eyes all but bulged from her skull.
"Bite your tongue. That is not how it is and you know it. You know me better than any other demon simply because you were designed to know me. I am the hater of everything mortal. I plan to prove she isn't one."
"Excuse me? Isn't mortal?"
"I sensed some deep secret in her, and I don't think it was a recipe for stew. She could be the key Lunaus has been looking for!"
"If not a mortal woman, then what? An angel?"
"An angel?" he laughed outright at the absurdity of her question. "Of course not. She's something entirely new. A new breed of human, but nothing like a mortal. I can't explain it, but I'll know soon. She's not of humans, I can assure you of that."
"Well, then," Chi-Chi laughed. "I can't miss this. You're going to eat your words and be hung by Lunaus all in one instant."
"Shut up."
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---Chapter 4!! Done! Done! Done! Woo! Yay! What'd you think? I got some stuff brewin'! Hope you all liked it…I need more reviews :( Also, how do you like how I've portrayed "the devil"? I feel he's better as not so evil, you know? Hmm, well, you should :P
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters)
Next time: Goku discovers who the "dark stranger" is and is immediately untrusting of him. How is it that he seems so familiar? Heehee!
NOTE: For anyone reading my other fics (A Moment Alone, A Lifetime To Love or Green Dragon) then I apologize for not updating sooner. I'd post an author's note, but fanfiction.net doesn't allow that anymore. I've had really bad writer's block with both fics. I've even almost finished a chapter for A Moment Alone, A Lifetime To Love, and then realized I hated it and started over. Blarg! I'm too much of a perfectionist when it comes to writing. Curse you!
"What would Lunaus want with those souls?" Bulma asked, grinding her teeth.
"It wasn't Lunaus' doing, Bulma. He came on his own."
***********************************************************
"Let! Go! Of! Meeee!" 18 shrieked, her fingers clawing at the Gates of Heaven, her silky blonde hair a mess of tangles in her eyes. She was about to give whoever dared stop her a good kick in the shin, when they spoke.
"18, please, calm yourself," they whispered, smoothing down her flaxen locks.
"B-Bulma?" she whimpered, surrendering to her tender caresses, her body going limp in her arms. "You're back."
"And I'm not leaving again," she sighed, her heart heavy. Oh how she wanted to be back on Earth. But now she saw that it was simply impossible. "I understand that the Lord needs me. I was selfish before to think that I could stay away for so long and everything would remain peaceful." She kissed her friend quickly on the forehead, then steadied her and let go. "I swear, you'll never be let down by me again."
"But—"
"And you!" Bulma hissed, gently pushing 18 aside as she advanced towards the Gates. "What do you think you're doing here? You're not allowed anywhere NEAR these gates!"
"Such a temper for such a pure being," the Keeper of the Damned Souls laughed, his soft blue eyes catching every bit of light. "Why—" For a moment he thought he saw something in the angry angel's face that was familiar, though quickly dismissed it—she was only The First Angel—and said, "I didn't know that the Almighty allowed his angels to shout now."
"Why have you come?" she demanded, giving him no measure. He was evil, plain and simple.
"For the bartered souls, of course. I thought your lackey would have told you that."
"Hell has lackeys, Keeper," she sneered, her metallic silver wings quivering in anger. She loathed him that she couldn't enjoy her wings now, that she had to focus on him and not the joy that should be enveloping her now that she was home. "And the souls you speak of are good dead. There is no place in Hell for the good dead."
"On the contrary my queen," he laughed. "We have plenty of your dimwitted 'good dead', as you call them. Contracts made that possible."
"That matters not, demon. They are our souls. You cannot have them."
"Why not let them decide for themselves?" His eyes widened slightly as if he'd just thought of the most brilliant idea. "Oh! That's right!" he cried. "Decisions aren't good for those in Heaven. If God gives them leave, they take it."
"Really?" Bulma remarked, crossing her arms, her wings stretching fully behind her. "What about you? You stayed for eons after your brothers and sisters descended into sin. What right have you to say such things? Or, furthermore, what right have you to be at our Gates when you've been banished for centuries!!"
"To reclaim our souls. How many times do I have to say it?" He craned his neck forward. "Hey! Sis! Come! Come! Let your dear old brother inside!"
18's feathers ruffled. Her grip tightened on Goku's hand. Her eyes burned nothing but pure hatred. Hate for a brother whom she allowed herself to love completely, only to be betrayed in the worst of ways.
"Don't listen to him," Goku whispered, his arms now wrapped protectively around her shoulders, her back pressed comfortably against his chest. "He's only trying to coax you. Don't let him feed your anger. Ignore him. Be the miracle, 18. Overcome your hatred."
"Sorry!" 18 finally called, forcing the biggest smile she could. She tried to break free from Goku's grasp, though found she could only slightly loosen it. "I don't decide who comes in and who does not!"
"How is it that angels can be so spiteful? Isn't that a sin? Isn't that frowned upon here? And to think, I live in a place where what I do, no matter what, is accepted. Heaven is a prejudice place."
"That's not true, 17." Her voice was calmer now. She almost felt as though nothing ill had ever passed between them. And when she went to move from Goku again, he let her, though was quick to follow as she approached the Gates. She swung her arm around Bulma's shoulder and said, "You cannot love in Hell and still be accepted. You cannot do a good deed and still be accepted. And you certainly can't harbor feelings for me, which I know you still do. The Lord," she sighed. "That I can see. I understand your ill will towards him, and unlike the others here, I'm not afraid to say it. But my love for my Father runs deeper than any other feeling I possess."
"You're wrong on most of those counts, dear sister," he laughed. "You can love in Hell, absolutely. Love for your master is quite common there. And you can do good deeds if they benefit Hell in some way. But you are right about one thing." 18's arm fell from Bulma's shoulder and clasped a rung of the gate. "I do still harbor my feelings for you." Gently he enclosed her hand in his own, rubbing his thumb in slow circles. "You are my sister and nothing can change that. We shared a special bond that none of the other Experiments could have possibly comprehended. You are the only regret I have."
"I—" 18 began, though the words seemed to catch in her throat.
"I still love you," he whispered.
"I still…I…I love you too, 17," she all but whimpered, her legs beginning to tremble under her.
"And no amount of hatred that Lunaus instills in me shall change that. No—" He stopped abruptly and drew back as if wounded, his eyes wide with shock, though at the realization of his words—and feelings—his brows narrowed and he spat, "Now open the damn Gates, you Holy Harlot of the Lord!"
The harsh words immediately brought her from her stupor and she lunged at the Gates, her arms reaching through the bars to grab her brother. But before she could touch him—and he was well within her reach—Bulma and Goku both grabbed her and they tumbled to the ground, a mass of glittering feathers.
"The war is coming," 18 whispered, her breathing labored. "Our armies are growing by the second. All those souls you see just there, entering their kingdom, they will be transformed into angels. We shall defeat you evil beings once and for all, and you don't even stand a chance!"
"I so want to believe your words, dear sister," he sighed. "But the last time I did I ended up with an ugly reminder of my mistakes." He pointed disgustedly at his single white feather.
"It's beautiful," she remarked sarcastically. "Just like you. Ha! A beautiful demon! How ironic! How fitting!"
"Cut deeper 18," he urged. "Every jab is one step closer. Soon you shall reside with me, and we will be the happy siblings again. Your hatred makes you perfect for our world, and a strange in yours." He turned sharply on his heels and made to go. "Good-bye my lovely. I look forward to our next encounter."
A second later and 18 would have ended up on the ground. Though luckily Bulma and Goku were right there to break her fall, uttering words of reassurance as she lay crumpled in their arms, her eyes pouring celestial tears.
On Earth, it began to rain…
… and wasn't expected to cease for two dreary days.
***********************************************************
"You're inconceivable," Lunaus muttered, head in his right hand, elbow resting on the arm of his throne. A few paces away Vegeta stood, at attention, his face a stone cold mask of indifference. He knew exactly why he'd been summoned by his master and what the full extent of his punishment could be. He pretended that tending to his duties was a chore for him, when in truth he loved nothing more than doing with damned souls as he pleased. Only now, thinking on it as he was being stared down, as the years—No—as the millenniums rolled on, did he feel the ever-increasing weight of his job. Could there actually be something better out there? And if so, what was it? Could the answer lie on Earth?
Lunaus' sharp voice brought him around.
"I've already spoken with 17 on the matter, but—Vegeta! You, above all, should know better. How many eons are you his senior here?"
"Too many," he sighed, feeling that Lunaus had no right to question him this way. Was he not only one step beneath him? Had he not always been faithful and true? And weren't there other demons who deserved this more? He believed whole-heartedly that there were.
"How long have you been under my command?" Lunaus continued, ignoring his comments. "The laws of this realm are the laws of your life. And if you don't start treating them as such, I might just have to really crack down on you, and, as my First Demon, you know how much I would despise doing that. Do not push me!"
"Are we finished now?" Vegeta asked almost drowsily. "I have matters to attend to."
"Matters given you by me! They can wait. I want to discuss this mortal female you've been seen with."
Vegeta's entire form went rigid. How could he possibly—
"My scout went to retrieve you when you hadn't returned with the others. He saw you conversing with a 'saintly' mortal woman, as he put it."
"Your excellence—" Vegeta began, only to be cut off abruptly.
"Don't mock me!" he snapped, his hands gripping the armrests of the throne. "I trust my source, Vegeta, and your behavior will NOT be tolerated…Whether you were trying—for some ridiculous reason—to contract her soul, or simply converse with her, it cannot go on. Souls are what you deal in my son, not the living, and especially not anyone who can be described as saintly. This woman, whoever she is, is untouchable. Understand?"
"And why can we demons not converse with mortals? Are we not entitled to so little after eons of loyal service?"
"Vegeta, I simply cannot trust someone as foul as you with any virtuous mortal. I have seen angels perish over mortal ties. ANGELS! I will not have it happen to my prized demons."
"It does not happen with demons, father," he sneered, curling his lip. "We have powers angels pine for. We can blend into human life without the slightest want or need for acceptance. We can walk in and out of their lives and care not for their fragile feelings. We are all-powerful compared to them, and compared to the angels…If I didn't know better, oh Fallen One, I'd say you had a soft spot for mortals."
"Leave."
The words were spoken no louder than a whisper, and with seemingly no more force than an infants grip, but the authority behind it could not be questioned.
Vegeta bowed at the waist, his manner holding nothing but mockery, and backed out of the room.
"I cannot endure this," Lunaus groaned, his head slowly lifting upward. "My Father, how am I to continue on? My heart pines more strongly for you as time goes on…I love you, Father…"
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"Your brother," Bulma muttered, her precious wings curled inwards in agitation. She'd been summoned home, long before she wished to leave the Earth, and at once was tending to "Hellish" matters. She despised Lunaus intensely at that moment, an emotion she despised in itself, making it impossible for her to escape it. "Of all the things he could have demanded…Our good dead!? Our plundered souls, plucked from the Earth in their prime with no knowledge of who their so-called 'saviors' were. The nerve of him! If Lunaus doesn't deal with him accordingly—"
"Bulma!" Yamcha snapped, stepping up to the group, his tasks complete for the time being. As it was souls were arriving fewer and further apart. And it wasn't only that they were descending into Hell, but that the Earth was becoming more technologically and medically advanced, thus prolonging human life expectancy.
"Yes, Keeper?" she hissed, trying to keep her feathers from ruffling. The only thing she did not miss about her wings was that emotion could be expressed by them, and in anger, Bulma could not control herself. Even the joy of having those wings back did not touch her then.
"First of all," he said, his strong black eyes piercing her with their innocence. He was not an angel, and yet he was permitted access to this realm. And he was not a dead mortal either, a conclusion that many "new" angels come to upon truly meeting him. He didn't have the angelic features or the lavish wings, though his charming smile and wind-swept coal-colored hair did give him the appearance of a celestial being. Sometimes Bulma found it hard not to stare at him, to wonder at his true purpose. There had to be more in store for this non-angel that walked hand-in-hand with the angels. "Bulma, are you listening?"
"Sorry," she mumbled. She'd been caught staring at him again. "Continue."
"First of all, you cannot address Lunaus as if he were an acquaintance of yours. I know you've known him personally in the past, the long ago past, maybe you were even a friend, but nothing about him now is familiar, and it should remain that way indefinitely." He drew in a deep breath, collecting himself. He so hated to give his "famous" lectures. Not only did he feel he was unworthy to preach to angels, but the angels seemed to listen to him with a mocking obedience. He greatly doubted that he would be accepted had the Lord not given him so much sway over the brewing war. "Lunaus is no friend to the angels, and, while I'm sure his minions would deny it, he is no friend to them either. He's trouble for us all, and his demons have yet to see his wrongful ways. And when they do, we'll have more than my darkened counterpart at the Gates."
"Second of all?" Bulma asked, her head tilted slightly to the side. There it was: mocking obedience. He wanted to glare at her, but only managed to curb a frown.
"Second of all, there is NOTHING any of us—" He stopped abruptly, his face seeming to be stricken with horror. Bulma and the others couldn't guess at what the problem was, until they replayed the words in their heads. He'd committed his self-proclaimed sin; he'd associated himself as their equal, as equal to an angel. Not once, but several times in his speech, and was only realizing it now. He shuddered and turned away. Never had he felt so ashamed in all his existence. Even far back in his infancy as a servant to the Lord when he'd boldly kissed The First Angel on the cheek.
"Yamcha," Bulma called as he bowed his head and trudged back the way he'd come.
"I have souls to tend to," he murmured. The Gates were already beginning to become crowded again in only a few short moments.
"Please, come back. You're not in the wrong!" She ran to his side and slid her arm around him, adoring the feel of his soft, yet useless garments. "You are not below angels in anyway. If anything you are envied by them. Look! There." She pointed almost frantically at the Gates. "You are the hope of every single one of those souls. And you're the hope of this divine kingdom. Without your admittance of souls, the war would be over before it began. I pray that we never lose you."
"I am nothing," he forced out, his entire frame shaking. He wanted to brush her comforting arm away. He did not deserve her kind words. He'd betrayed himself, broken his most sacred vow, "compared to the glory of the angels and all they stand for. What do I do, my love?" he whispered. "I herd in souls by the thousands for a sacrilegious war! What good is there in that? How can I justify my position when I know what all these souls will fight for? And nothing can solace the pain I feel for those poor mortals who become intertwined in the world of the angels. They were born with what those in Heaven can only ever dream of, only to come here and be recruited into a celestial war against the cruelest of creations? No." Finally he found the courage to push her away. "I cannot endure your forgiveness. Please, let me take my leave."
"But Yamcha!"
"Bulma, please, I beg of you as your inferior. Please, please, let me go. I will discuss this with you another time. Right now my place is with my souls. And I apologize for having lectured you. Sometimes I have no control over my sharp tongue."
The blue-haired beauty sulked back to her most belovéd of friends, her head hung in shame.
"How can he feel that way?" she whimpered, folding into Goku's warm comfort. "He knows how much I care for him, how much he's needed here, how much…how much—"
"How much you love him?" 18 ventured, her eyes small and fixed on the distant form of Yamcha at the Gates.
"Can I ask you both one favor, if I ask nothing else of you?"
They nodded solemnly. They knew what was coming next.
"Accompany me to Earth, OR—if you will not, for I am leaving as soon as I am permitted to—then will you travel to Earth on your own accord? And stay there for longer than a day?"
Again they nodded. There was no getting out of it this time.
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Goku walked uneasily beside his dearest friend, an ever-present dread pulling at his heart. He did not feel at home on this planet, nor did he feel others thought he belonged. All the while as they walked, arm in arm, he could feel a thousand eyes upon him at any given time; sharp, quick, large, imploring eyes, wondering who this man was that walked with their newly returned, and very precious, house maiden. Three months she'd been "missing", and seen in the company of a "dark stranger". Goku assumed this stranger was himself, though wondered at the citizens' behavior towards him. They were not frightened, only curious.
He decided not to brood about it too long. As Bulma had instructed, he was to "enjoy himself thoroughly" or else she wouldn't let him return. She considered his leaving her rustic cabin at the edge of the forest a big step.
"Don't be so tense," Bulma teased, pressing closer to him. "It looks as though I've kidnapped you."
"I'm twice your size," Goku murmured, hating the feeling of not being able to express himself with his wings. He shrugged his shoulders not knowing now to present himself.
At this Bulma let out a howling laugh.
"What?" he asked, almost hurt, stopping dead in the middle of the street. Several angry market-goers pushed by them. Bulma grabbed his arm and ushered him between two tents.
"Sorry." It was unbearable to try to keep her laughter in. "It's only that you're so obviously uncomfortable in your guise. But I know what you're going through. I was at a loss for my wings too. For months I did little things like shrugging my shoulders and moving my arms in odd directions. But once you get past that—"
"Bulma, I don't plan on staying that long. I have duties that demand my attention. I only asked the Lord for one Earth week. I can do no more."
She manner faltered some, her eyes dropping, then rising quickly again.
"Well, then," she sighed, trying to pick her cheery voice back up. "We'll just have to make the most of that week, now won't we?"
"And what are we going to do? I've seen all this when I visited you before. What more is there on Earth than these people who push by you or don't give you a second glance in their busy schedules? How can I feel that passion you feel? I don't understand it."
"Well, you will, trust me. In a week try to tell me the same thing and see if there's any feeling left in it. I doubt there will be."
"And just how can you ensure that? Bulma, I'm in agony being so far from the Lord for so long."
"It's been two days, Goku. Toughen up. You cannot face a demon with such a weakening need. When the war comes you will be without the Lord for so long you'll forget his presence. You know what I mean…Now, to answer your question, I shall ensure my promise by taking you to visit ma Grandmère."
"But you don't—"
"On Earth I do. Not literally speaking. But I love her as such. She's an amazing woman. Come! I've already promised to stop by. She's been worried sick in my absence. Damn 17…"
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"Lunaus would have your neck, regardless of who you are Vegeta, if he knew what you were planning."
"Well, that's one good reason for you to not tell him, Council," he sneered, looking around for any sign of his master or one of his snooping scouts. Nothing. "I'm going to Earth whether it pleases you or not. I don't care what weight it puts on your conscience. If you're so damn worried about slipping up to the master, then accompany me. That way you can 'keep an eye on me' as I'm sure he would have done."
"No," Chi-Chi spat. "He wouldn't even allow you out of his sight for eons if he knew you were going to the Earth to spy on that mortal woman. What is it that you see in those creatures, anyway?" Her piercing black eyes seemed to match her raven hair perfectly in that moment. "And a virtuous one at that? I don't understand."
"And you wouldn't," he hissed.
"You have a soft spot for her, don't you?" Her eyes all but bulged from her skull.
"Bite your tongue. That is not how it is and you know it. You know me better than any other demon simply because you were designed to know me. I am the hater of everything mortal. I plan to prove she isn't one."
"Excuse me? Isn't mortal?"
"I sensed some deep secret in her, and I don't think it was a recipe for stew. She could be the key Lunaus has been looking for!"
"If not a mortal woman, then what? An angel?"
"An angel?" he laughed outright at the absurdity of her question. "Of course not. She's something entirely new. A new breed of human, but nothing like a mortal. I can't explain it, but I'll know soon. She's not of humans, I can assure you of that."
"Well, then," Chi-Chi laughed. "I can't miss this. You're going to eat your words and be hung by Lunaus all in one instant."
"Shut up."
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---Chapter 4!! Done! Done! Done! Woo! Yay! What'd you think? I got some stuff brewin'! Hope you all liked it…I need more reviews :( Also, how do you like how I've portrayed "the devil"? I feel he's better as not so evil, you know? Hmm, well, you should :P
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Reviews=More Chapters)
Next time: Goku discovers who the "dark stranger" is and is immediately untrusting of him. How is it that he seems so familiar? Heehee!
NOTE: For anyone reading my other fics (A Moment Alone, A Lifetime To Love or Green Dragon) then I apologize for not updating sooner. I'd post an author's note, but fanfiction.net doesn't allow that anymore. I've had really bad writer's block with both fics. I've even almost finished a chapter for A Moment Alone, A Lifetime To Love, and then realized I hated it and started over. Blarg! I'm too much of a perfectionist when it comes to writing. Curse you!
