Improper Guardian

Chapter Five

By: Brenli

Nema was never a girl who had many friends. A few were sprinkled here and there, but they were usually foreign people from military families, and disappeared as soon as they came around. Any other people were either tossing her scraps of pity, or they were not unlike the group of girls she'd encountered… how long ago was it now?

Nema checked her calendar. A week. Seven days since she'd beaten up the one who called her a witch, and seven days since her parents went on a vacation, traveling through Europe. They planned on staying in England for two months, in particular.

The albino girl sighed and took out a red sharpie, putting an 'X' on the seventh day since their departure. No family and no friends. Unless one counted Michael as a friend. After three days, Nema decided that she might as well call him one. He was more like an enemy than anything else, and yet he was living with her, and refused to leave her alone, much like a desperate friend… or maybe a paranoid bodyguard.

So Nema called him a friend, though a very poor one. He was too loud, even for HER, and too heartless. Indeed, she doubted he had one of these organs. Michael lacked remorse for anything he said or did that was offensive to her, though she did note that if he didn't do anything offensive to her, he was actually halfway decent, though moody. This, however, did not change the fact that he had a tendency to pick on her at the worst moments. He was the salt that poured on her wounds, and he only seemed to spill right when she was bleeding.

It was the last thing she really needed, lately. While she'd always dealt with taunts about her parents, it hit her harder now. Somehow, everyone was extra aware of who she was, and hated her all the more for it. These days, not even the people who made a big show of being bad wanted to be around her. No one wanted her, everyone hated her, blamed her, stared at her… And at the end of a long day of this treatment, her parents would give her that look. That look that screamed, 'We're sorry,' and she wanted to hit them for it. Now that her parents were on vacation, she didn't have to deal with that look, but now she decided she almost missed it.

And what about the men in cloaks? It didn't matter that Michael had told her she'd been dreaming. She saw them often, now. They dealt her the same scornful look as everyone else, but somehow, their eyes made her feel twice as bad, as though God's judgment was hidden within them. Nema had a definite feeling that this had nothing to do with black cloaks becoming the new fashion statement.

She felt alienated and lonely. Thanks to the cloaked men, she even felt hunted. Was she depressed? Hell yes. And she had Michael there to take it that extra step down.

Nema looked over her shoulder at Michael, who had taken over her bed, for the time being. It was one of those quiet times. If they weren't arguing, it was dead silent, and Michael would observe his gigantic sword. Michael didn't know this, but Nema had dared to try touching it once. She went to lift it, and found the whole thing to be hot to the touch. Even if she had been able to handle the heat, she knew it would've been extremely heavy. How did he wield that thing?

Michael was sitting on her bed as though it was his own, idly examining his sword. His blue-green eyes searched for any imperfections along the blade, and a corner of his mouth lifted in a satisfied smirk. The Fire Angel turned his back to her for a moment, and Nema noticed, for the first time, that Michael had a long, red rat tail to go with his messy strands.

Nema watched the light from her single lamp play along the muscles of his back, and wanted to sigh in pity. It was a shame to have such a jerk encased in such an attractive body. If he were even a bit kinder, Nema wouldn't have minded having him follow her, at all.

"… What the Hell are you looking at?" Michael said gruffly, eyeing her suspiciously.

Nema turned back to face the mirror in her vanity. Staring at his reflection seemed easier than staring right at him. "You have a rat tail. I never noticed that before."

"I have a WHAT?"

She tugged on a lock of hair at the nape of her neck. "A rat tail. Not an actual, you know, rat tail!"

Michael offered a quick, "Hmph!" and left it at that, not caring about his hair, much like how he didn't seem to care about anything. "I'm fucking BORED, Nema!"

An angry frown crossed Nema's face. "Well, I am SO SORRY for not being entertaining enough!"

"Don't be a bitch! I was just saying I'm bored!"

"What makes you think I need to hear about how fucking BORED you are? Go out and do something, then!"

Michael glowered at Nema, wishing it were really that simple. If it were, he wouldn't be here at all. "You're extra bitchy today! Are you PMSing?" He actually enjoyed watching Nema stand up and stomp over to him. A fistfight would've been a great way to get rid of SOME boredom, at least.

"Get OUT of my bed. I'm going to sleep." That was all she said.

Michael gave her a challenging grin. "Make me."

Nema threw up her hands. "What the fuck, Michael?" She strode over to the blankets and pillows on the floor by her bed. Michael's impromptu resting area. She threw aside one blanket, curling up inside and throwing the blanket over her head.

"… That's it? You were PMSing a couple seconds ago! You damn women and your emotional selves…!" The Archangel watched the bundle that was Nema curl even tighter. "What, you crying now?"

"WHAT IF I WAS?" Nema flung herself up onto her bed and screamed, dry eyed. "IS THAT WHAT YOU'RE TRYING TO DO? MAKE ME CRACK? IF WAS BAWLING MY EYES OUT WOULD YOU FUCKING STOP DOING THIS SHIT AND BE A HUMAN BEING FOR ONCE?"

Michael wanted to tell her that he wasn't a human being to begin with, but knew that was taboo. So he smirked and said, "Nope!"

Finally he got what he wanted. Nema pounced on him, slapping him sharply across his dragon-covered cheek and then pounding her fists into his chest. "FUCKING DIE, MICHAEL!"

The Fire Angel grinned and grabbed her by the wrists, pinning her against her bed with one knee cruelly placed against her stomach. "You first, bitch!" Nema was struggling, but Michael decided to use all his strength against hers. "You're so fucking weak, Nema!"

"I DON'T CARE! LET ME GO AND LEAVE ME ALONE!" Nema watched a look cross Michael's face, as though he heard some far-off noise, and he got off Nema's bed. "What?"

"Nothin', just your stupid neighbors complaining. They'll probably get the cops to throw me out or somethin'."

"… I don't hear them."

"That's just 'cause you're stupid." Michael scoffed and flopped down into his mass of blankets and pillows. "You wanna sleep? Go to sleep!"

Nema crawled into her blankets and hid under them, curling into a ball once again. '… A SHAME you have to be such an asshole! A FUCKIN' shame!' She thought angrily, chewing on her bottom lip until she tasted blood. A long time went by in this silence, until Nema could faintly make out his steady breathing. She lowered the blankets away from her head. Yes, he was breathing as though he was in a deep sleep.

So what did Nema do? Throw a pair of pants on to go with her oversized shirt and slip into a pair of sandals. It was hardly anything she'd want to go outside in, but she was desperate for some time alone. She was tired of being suffocated by a man like Michael.

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

Sweet solitude, at last! Nema felt her lips curl into a satisfied grin as her sandaled feet led her along the path to her destroyed school. She wanted to look at its remains. That would be her own way of letting go of Shibuya Senior High School.

It wasn't a school that treated her well, by any means. However, it did treat her better than others had, and that was all that mattered to her. Now that Shibuya High was gone, where would she go to finish up her schooling? Would the next school be as good as this one had been? Could it perhaps be better? No, that was too hopeful of her.

Here it was, the bits and pieces left of Shibuya High, all surrounded in the yellow caution tape. Nema had only to close her eyes to see it in its previous, more honorable form. And, just as clearly, she could see Michael standing on top, with broad white wings spread. He looked like some sort of Angel with wings like that, though he hardly acted like one. Nema shook her head quickly. That vision made no sense because it wasn't real to begin with…

She could hear the rubble stir before her, and her blood red eyes snapped open. The cloaked figure with blonde hair was standing in the midst of her ruined school, his eyes still hidden by his hair. The cold smile played across his lips.

"… Well, hello."

Nema took a careful step backwards. "… Stay away."

The smile grew wider. "That's not something I can do, I'm afraid. Sorry."

Nema continued to take steps backwards as Cheriour approached her. "What do you want with me?"

"You're a peculiar girl… While we're unsure of whether you are a Rabbit or not, we'd like to take care of anything that seems out of place. You cause us too much confusion." Nema watched his hand reach toward the hilt of his short sword. "If you cooperate I can make this as quick and painless as possible…"

Nema wasn't going to accept any of that. Before Cheriour could touch his sword she rushed toward him and slammed her fist into his stomach, and then moved it up to met the bridge of his nose. She heard his nose snap and quickly tripped him. Then she turned to run, seeing what looked like a wave of cloaked men flow after her from all directions. She hoped that she would be swift enough to simply avoid them all and sprint home. She knew it was a vain hope, but she hoped anyway…

"NEEEEMAAAAAA!" A loud, scornful voice called out. She watched the blade of Michael's sword pierce the wall of cloaks and slice out a way for its owner to go through. Michael's blue-green eyes stared daggers at her, but he turned his attention away from her to face the rest of the former wall, which had quickly scattered. "You're joking! Don't fucking run off!"

What resulted was Michael chasing after what he could, leaving behind him gory, bloody messes. Nema's red eyes fixed on him as he fought on. He was wielding that heavy looking thing like it was nothing! It still amazed Nema. She watched Michael's Cheshire cat grin and the sparkle in his chaotic eyes… yes, they were definitely sparkling. Sparkling with bloodlust. And Nema watched it all, and considered this complete confirmation of Michael's insanity.

Nema felt her blood run cold when she saw him turn his gaze to her. He was charging at her now, but then couldn't afford to as one of the many cloaked men came up behind him with a glimmer of bravery in him. Michael had to swing his arm back and clock him over the head with the flat of his blade, and then, with an almost graceful movement of his wrist, brought the point down and into the cloaked man's head. It was the most disgusting thing Nema had laid eyes on so far, but then she felt rough hands grasp her neck.

Michael had never been intentionally charging at Nema; he had been at the cloaked Angel behind her. Nema choked and sputtered as she came to her knees, her face forced to stare back at the red-headed man as the murder-happy smile left his features and something like a mental debate glimmered in his eyes. Nema could hear less and less as she began to fade out, but she could see Michael mouth what looked like, "Ah, what the Hell." She watched him hold his hand out, and to her astonishment, a bright beam of flames exploded from him and shot just above her head.

Nema gasped for breath as she continued to stare at Michael, who was back to grinning. She dared to look over her shoulder and almost wanted to vomit. The man behind her was burning into ashes at an alarmingly quick rate. It was definitely more disgusting than a head wound due to a sword, but she watched as the man transformed into a pile of ash. The several screams around her told her Michael was giving this treatment to everyone else now.

"Michael-sama!" Cheriour sounded sickeningly calm. "Right when we thought you'd abandoned the girl!"

"I CAN'T fucking abandon the girl!" Michael hissed, sending a beam of fire at Cheriour, but he dodged it. "I told you, she's not a damn Rabbit! So fuck off!"

"Michael-sama, try to see it from our point of view. Did you know there is no real confirmation on this girl's status? She could be anything, really! Wouldn't it be best to just be rid of her, then? And just think, the minute she's gone, you don't have to protect her anymore."

Nema wanted to laugh at first. Michael seemed like more of a threat to her life than a protector of it! But now that she thought about it… it would explain his stalker-like attitude. And if he was keeping men like these away from her, she supposed she could try to deal with his detestable personality.

Michael actually faltered for a moment, and that scared Nema senseless. She was extremely relieved when Michael grinned evilly and shouted, "Fuck your reasoning!" and sent more fire at the tall, shadowy figure.

Cheriour was gone, but he was far from dead. "One day you'll see, Michael-sama! I'll have you fighting FOR me, and not AGAINST me!" He behind the corpses of whatever Angels had followed him this time around. Michael burned them all to ash, no longer caring that Nema saw him do this.

Nema stood among the piles of ash with a grateful smile on her face. The wind suddenly picked up and blew the ash up and away. The wind felt sharp, and she thought she could hear Michael mutter something about Raphael being angry. When the wind died down and the ash cleared off, Michael was less like the annoying brat she hated and just a bit more like a hero.

Of course, it didn't help much that Nema felt a teeny bit physically attracted to him.

"M… Michael…"

An angry look twisted itself onto Michael's face. "YOU." He waved his sword at her. "YOU ARE A PAIN IN MY ASS! DON'T MAKE ME PUT YOU IN A CAGE, 'CAUSE I WILL!"

Nema frowned. "Gomen… And thank you."

"What, so I have to BURN stuff to get your gratitude?" The Fire Angel tsked Nema and walked past her. "We're going home. You're going to bed, and I'm going to make DAMN sure you don't pull another stunt like that again!"

For the first time since they'd met, Nema was walking behind Michael. She wanted to point out that by doing this, it was only easier for her to slip away, but she had a feeling they'd both come to the agreement that Nema wasn't stupid enough to run off again. "…Hey, Michael?"

"Nani?" He responded gruffly.

"… Are you going to fill me in on what's going on?"

Michael was silent for a long while. "… No."

Nema froze in her tracks, and Michael reached back to take hold of her wrist and pull her up closer to him. It seemed that if she were more than two steps away from him, he'd pull her within that boundary. "… Doushite? Why won't you tell me anything?"

"The less you know, the better it is for everyone. That's why."

Nema scowled. "Okay, fine. Then I'll say what I think is going on, and you tell me if I'm right or wrong, okay?"

"Whatever makes you happy, Nemaelle! I can't believe I'm fucking saying this, but I'm actually too tired to give a shit right now!"

"Good!" Nema grinned as she heard him grumble. "So, these weird people… with WINGS… are after me. They obviously want to kill me because they think I'm a bunny, whatever that's supposed to mean-"

"Rabbit. Not BUNNY. Rabbit! You're trying to make it sound like it's cute or somethin'!"

"… Okay, fine. Rabbit. They think I'm a RABBIT and they want to kill me because it's bad. Apparently it's not cute, anyway…"

"Oh, ha ha."

"… And YOU… are here to protect me. So am I right so far?"

"Yes." Michael said grudgingly.

Nema grinned. "AND!"

"…And?"

"And you're not human!"

"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?"

"You can't be! You wield that sword of yours around like it's hollow, but I KNOW that thing is heavy as all Hell… it's hot as all Hell, too!"

Michael stopped in his tracks. "… You touched my sword?"

"So what if I did?" Nema babbled. "Also, you shoot fire out of your hands! Like some sort of friggin' super hero or something! So tell me… was I right when I said you have wings? Have I been right all along?"

"One! DON'T YOU EVER TOUCH MY FUCKING SWORD AGAIN! And two! … I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh, are you surrrre?"

"YES, I'M SURE!"

Nema dashed up to walk in front of him, like they usually did. "Oh, well that's disappointing… I guess it makes sense, though. I mean, the wings I saw on you were these big, beautiful, white things! They looked like they might be soft, too! And, well, that's just not you, is it? Those wings would belong to an Angel… you're more like the Devil!"

Nema went wide-eyed as Michael pulled her back against him, the blade of his sword resting at her throat. His breath was hot against her ear. "Listen, bitch! I'm nothing like HIM…! HE was a traitor and a fucking FOOL. I will NEVER be at his level!"

"Jesus, Michael! You talk like you know him!"

Michael shoved her away, but she could feel the point of his sword between her shoulder blades. "Jesus has nothing to do with this. Now shut up and keep walking."

Nema did keep walking and she did shut up until they were home and back in Nema's bedroom. Michael sat himself on her windowsill, becoming a dark silhouette with angry eyes. "Now go to sleep." He commanded her as she kicked off her slippers and crawled into bed.

"You aren't going to sleep?"

"No, I'm watching over your stupid ass!" The Fire Angel snapped. "I hope you've learned your damn lesson, Nema! I'm so fucking close to leaving you to them!"

"I've learned my lesson, okay? Sorry!" Nema grumbled as she threw her blankets over her head again. "So fuckin' pissy about it…! At least things weren't BORING for a while…!"

Michael paused. "… Heh." He smirked. "Yeah, that's true."