Curious Dangers

Croix would be the first to admit it; he was an extremely curious man. Sure he'd been told many times that "Curiosity killed the cat," but it just never sank in. And that curiosity had been known to get him in a lot of trouble. For example, there was that one time, during his two years as a Freelance Demon Hunter, when he'd been in a small harbor town. The fishermen had just come back with their daily catches and were preparing to load them off the boat. Instead of asking someone what they'd brought back, Croix decided to go out and find it for himself. So he went down to the docks to see the fishermen unloading their boats…

…only to find out that their nets were so full that they couldn't see what was around them. One man bumped right into Croix, sending him right into the ocean. When he finally pulled himself out and back onto the docks, the young mercenary's rust colored hair looked like seaweed, his blue overcoat appeared to weigh one hundred pounds, and his sunglasses had nearly fallen off his face, revealing his pale blue eyes. He would also later develop a cold from flailing about the freezing waters.

That was only one incident that would get Croix into trouble over his curiosity. He still would use that instinct to guide him with no concern for the consequences. But it all came to a head one day when, after two years of traveling, he found a steady job as a Demon Hunter for a small church. There, the young amnesiac would encounter someone who would give him hell for his actions.

S...S

"If she catches me, I'm a dead man," he muttered to himself, "Seriously, Prier can get crazy about nothing at all, so if she finds out I was snooping around her room, who knows what she'll do. But I just have to know if there's anything in there that can help me find my past. This girl, and the strange vision she brought on, are the only clues I have." He thought more about the girl in that vision. She had the same brown eyes and rounded face as Prier, but her hair was darker than the young girl's magenta color and she dressed more like a lady.

Maybe there was no connection between the girls. Certainly, Prier hadn't recognized her when Croix had provided a full description. But there still was a chance. For all any of them knew, the two could be distant cousins. If he was really lucky, they had met as babies and some memento still remained; perhaps a toy that both of their mothers had purchased them, or a diary that Prier's mother had written in which contained an entry regarding the visit. If Prier had something that could help Croix remember more about his past, then there might be hope for the young man's future.

And so, later that afternoon when Prier was out for a walk, the hunter sneaked upstairs and into her unlocked bedroom. Taking one glance around was enough to tell him that he was in the right place; the room looked like a tornado had just blown through it. There were piles of boxes filled with stale bread crusts, old newspapers, calendars dating back four years from when she'd first arrived here, an old stuffed bunny with a broken eye, clothes that most definitely were too small for Prier, and many other miscellaneous pieces of garbage. The dress that she wore to church services was hastily tossed over a chair near her desk, which was covered with mounds of writing paper. He had never took Prier for a neat freak. In fact, he expected her room to look a lot worse.

Croix walked over to the desk, careful not to trip over her disastrous piles. As he craned his neck down, the young man let out a gasp. On the papers, in Prier's handwriting, were what appeared to be poems. Not only that, but in each corner she'd written a popular song's name. "Who'd have thought that such a brash young girl has a poet inside of her? Not only that, but a songwriting poet," he told himself.

The lyrics began to tug at his heartstrings; a feeling that brought back a pang of familiarity. "My heart is open; lying on the floor for all to see. Does he love me? Do I love him? I feel the old me begin to wash away whenever I see his sparkling eyes. He makes me feel so safe; safe in a world filled with terror and pain. Why can't I understand myself? Is this love…or is this just an illusion of my lonely heart?"

He began to reflect on their beauty. Who did Prier write this for? For that Air Pirate they'd encountered a few days ago? For one of the young men around town? For a guard in the Royal Palace who helped her when she visited the princess? Or…could it be a poem written for him; Croix Raoul? The very thought of Prier liking him in such a way sent shivers down his spine, and a blush on his face.

"I like her," he admitted, "She's a great girl; brave, strong, determined, knows what she wants and will go for it. Plus, as I said the other day, she's the first girl I've ever found who can watch my back. She thought I was joking, but to me that was a compliment of her strength. I've thought of myself as a professional Demon Hunter of considerable talent. If I say that she can watch my back, then that must mean that she's got considerable talent as well. But does all of this amount to love?"

Croix couldn't answer his question. He knew that the heart could be a complex organ to figure out. Maybe, when he got his memory back, the young man would remember something that would help him to decipher it. But for now, he had to see if there was a clue in Prier's room.

Looking into her dresser drawer, Croix beheld what appeared to be a diary. It was a leather bound volume that showed signs of age. Thinking he'd discovered what he was looking for, the young man opened it up and began reading the first entry.

"Today, I went on my first mission as a Demon Hunter. Too bad that I had to go out with that bossy old bat Sister Alouette! Seriously, she never gives me a break. And my little brother doesn't make anything easier; always being the teacher's pet. They could have sent us out with Sister Olive; she doesn't complain half as much about my habits. But Father Salade seems to really like throwing that woman a bone to further her career. I mean, she came here when she was around fifteen and two weeks after recovering from her injuries, she was already a squad leader in La Pucelle. Whereas I came here when I was twelve and it took me four years just to make the cut. What makes it even worse is that she only looks a year older than me; though since she lost her memory we are only taking a stab at what her real age is. I just hope she learns to lighten up over the next few months," the paper read.

Croix thought, 'So this isn't a diary from her mother. It's something Prier herself wrote just this year. Pity, there can't be any answers inside of it. But, I wonder, what is she saying about me? I'll bet she wrote an entry about the time we first met, and I rescued her brother from the Demon.'

He turned the page to the correct day. "We were ordered to go after a murderer today. Stupid shape shifting Demon ran all the way to Mt. Tarte on us. Then, Culotte got angry at my usual big sister concern and ran off to face it on his own. Dumb kid nearly got himself killed! He's only twelve; shouldn't be taking these sorts of risks. But we were lucky. Just before the Demon struck, another Demon Hunter appeared. He calls himself Croix, and was hired by the boyfriend of one of the victims. I owe him a lot for protecting my only brother; he's all I have in this world now."

The very fact that he'd made her happy, even though he was on a job at the time, made Croix smile. There was this warm feeling in the pit of his stomach; a feeling that told him how much he really cared for Prier. But he did not know how to act on it; or even that it was there.

He wanted to read more, to find out exactly how Prier felt during their other missions together. She seemed to appreciate his knowledge and humor, both of which helped them through their hunts. Now, he had come to the mission they had gone on just yesterday; one where strange creatures had appeared in the forest. Croix prepared to turn the page and discover how she felt about that one…

"What are you doing in my room?" a female voice screamed, "And with my diary as well! I'm going to kill you Croix Raoul!" He turned around to see an incredibly pissed off Prier standing in the doorway. Croix had been so into the diary that he hadn't heard her open the door.

"I can explain Prier. I wanted to know if this was your mother's diary; that maybe you and the girl from my visions are distant cousins or something. If we figure out a connection between the two of you, then I can get my memory back faster. It wasn't because I wanted to know your secrets or anything," he stammered as he was backing up towards the window to escape.

She yelled back, "That's no excuse! You should ask me if there are any old diaries you can look at in my room. Or, if you think she's my distant cousin, ask me if I have any. For your information, both of my parents are only children so if she is related to me she's so distant that I don't know she exists. Now you're going to pay for looking at my personal thoughts…" The girl readied her fist; ready to clock him.

Just then, Croix found himself backed up against the window. Even luckier, it was open to catch the breeze and air out the room. The young man jumped up on the sill, and then down to the ground. But Prier did the same thing and chased him around the entire church. Finally, she managed to corner Croix, sock him right in the face for what had happened, and stormed back to her room.

Croix too went back to his own room. He knew that he shouldn't have read the diary once he found out it wasn't what he thought it would be. But he was just too curious about Prier's feelings for him; he wondered if she was just as confused as he. With a dejected sigh, he returned to his room.

S...S

Prier would never know how lucky she was. For the very entry he had stopped at was where she poured her heart out concerning him. It read, "We were chasing some strange fluffy things in the forest today. Plus, we had to make this moronic girl see the value of her boyfriend was more than just his looks. It got me thinking though…how do I feel about Croix? I mean, he's always there for me, he's smart, he's funny, we can rely on him to help us on our missions, and he's extremely skilled. But why is it that my heart races whenever I see him? Just one look at his face nearly made it jump out of my chest…"

Teefa's Last Words...

I love irony, if you haven't noticed from my other stories; everything turns out to be crazy in them. I even had a Zoids fic nicknamed "Story of 1,000 Ironies?" Either that or "10,000 Ironies." All I know is that I was throwing things around like water and everything got shot to hell; my favorite pastime. Plus we got to see Croix getting himself in trouble with Prier and delve into the fiery Sister's mind. Diaries are always a good commodity.

I also plan on using the poem in this chapter as the basis of another story which will meld poetry and prose; In it, Prier is writing her poem and adds to it at different points in her affection and relationship with Croix.