Improper Guardian

Chapter Nine

By: Brenli

"Holy… What HAPPENED?" Raphael blinked the shock from his eyes and entered Nema's house. All of the windows were GONE, leaving empty holes in the walls. When the Wind Angel entered, he was amazed to see that just about anything breakable was nowhere to be found, as well. "… Hey, Michael!"

"In here!"

Raphael followed the sound of Michael's voice to find him in the completely empty living room. All the furniture had been pushed against the walls, but the Fire Angel opted for crouching against the wall without the comfort of a chair or couch.

"… What… did you DO…?"

"You like it?" Michael grinned and waved his biker-gloved hand over the scene. "Lots of room for combat. We had to take all the windows out 'cause Nema broke most of them… Well, I broke one, but whatever."

Raphael's eyes narrowed. "… You've been FIGHTING with her… Didn't I tell you NOT to?"

"What are you, my dad? And besides, how else am I supposed to train her?"

"TRAIN her?"

"You gone deaf? We just finished up today's stuff." Michael's voice was laced with happiness. "She'll be here in a second; she's just getting a drink."

"Ummm…" Sure enough, Nema walked into the living room with two glasses of water. Raphael had to do a double-take. He was too used to seeing Nema in skirts with bloomers and petticoats underneath, topped off with a mini-crown. Now she was wearing a pair of red, cotton shorts… very short shorts… and a black tank top. The only thing remotely like the Nema he was used to seeing was her black boots… she wasn't even wearing a mini-crown, until he noticed that she had a red one picked out and lying by Michael's feet. For the first time since Raphael had met her, her hair was tousled and messy from the hours of training.

"Hey, Raphael…!" She greeted him with a smile, set the two glasses down by her mini-crown, and collapsed against Michael's shoulder, sighing in exhaustion. Michael made a big show of being disgusted and nudged her away, letting her fall against the ground. But Nema only laughed as she lay there, and to the Wind Angel's surprise, Michael was laughing, too. He pulled her up by her shoulder until she was sitting straight, and offered Nema one of the two glasses. Raphael watched Nema take up the drink with a blush that might have been excused as overexertion or general happiness. Michael's smile didn't leave his face until he took up the other glass and gulped half of it down.

Raphael had to stand there in silence to process the image before him. It wasn't adding up, at all.

"So, anyway, Raphael, Nema's still a bit of a WIMP…" Michael grinned and endured the light blows to his upper arm, delivered by a less sensitive Nema, "… But she's got potential to be a fucking GOOD combatant as far as hand-to-hand goes. She puts up a good fight that way."

"I TOLD you I didn't need help with that, Michael! You didn't listen to me!"

"Well seein' as you can't control your exploding powers, what the Hell else can we do? We need to get you a sword, Nema. Till then, good job today, kid." Michael tapped his fist against Nema's cheek, and she endured it with a proud smile and that same perpetual blushing… Raphael read into that look instantly, but it didn't add up! Didn't Nema positively HATE Michael? So why was she looking at him like she…

Wait. Why was MICHAEL going along with it? Why wasn't he pushing her away?

"So what's up, Raphael? You look like your brain is rotting." Michael snickered and finished off his glass of water.

After a long pause, Raphael muttered in their shared Angelic tongue, "I need to talk to you."

"Should I leave, then?" Nema asked in the same language, making Raphael blink rapidly.

"Yeah, that won't work, Raphael. Don't even try." Michael shrugged it off, and tapped Nema's shoulder with his fist. "Leave for now. Don't leave the house or I'll kill you."

"No, you won't." Nema snatched her mini-crown and tied it on before departing.

"Feh…" Michael scowled at her back, but smiled at Raphael. "Well? What do you want?"

"… What WAS all that?"

"What was what?"

"… ALL of it!"

"… Well I don't know… Nema understands Angelic languages now… Just… BECAUSE." Michael shrugged.

"Well actually I halfway expected that to happen to her, eventually…"

"Then what are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about… her being all smiles."

The Fire Angel shrugged again. "She started to lighten up about two hours into training. I'm not gonna complain! She isn't being all touchy and moody right now!"

Raphael crouched down next to his fellow Archangel, not any less puzzled than he was before. "… You know… I think she's starting to like you."

Michael's eyes seemed to turn a little greener as they shot a glare at Raphael. "You're obsessed with those ideas, you know. It's not healthy."

"Well I think it's pretty damn odd, too, Mika-chan!" He ignored Michael's snarl, "But don't you think… it's becoming obvious?"

"… Yeah, well…" Michael shrugged for the third time, "… I'm like… the ONLY person around her… so whatever."

Raphael nodded, deciding that made a little sense. Not much sense, but hey, maybe Nema liked violent types… which was a little dangerous, but maybe that was her way. They sat there in silence for a moment, Michael tipping over his empty glass and letting it roll past Raphael. "… So are you warming up to her, too?" He couldn't help but ask it with a smirk.

"What the fuck, Raphael? Are you Dr. Love, now?" Michael hissed. "… 'Sides, isn't it a Guardian Angel thing, anyway? Befriending your Guarded, or whatever? So, I guess I can't HELP this shit!"

"What, you can't help liking her?"

"… Not like THAT, you fucking idiot." The Fire Angel grumbled. "I mean, no offense… she's a RABBIT. If I ever WANTED to go ahead and break more rules and take a woman for myself, it's not gonna be a RABBIT…!"

The words made Raphael sigh. How Michael was ever chosen to protect an Improper Child was completely beyond him… "That brings me to the reason why I came here." Raphael pulled from the inner pocket of his coat a group of papers that had been folded over into fourths. He unfolded them, and Michael noticed a list made of extremely small writing. At the top was the simple title, "Rabbit Hunting."

"A list of the Hunters?" Michael asked boredly.

"A list of all Angels, Michael, that's why the writing is so small. This is a record of everyone's standing on the idea of Rabbit Hunting." He let Michael thumb through it quickly. Most of them had said yes. Some had refused. Michael laughed when he found Raphael's response. 'Some of the girls are pretty damn cute, you know…!' It was a response in the negative, but it was in true Raphael fashion. He wondered if Barbiel had hit Raphael for submitting an opinion like that. A few Angels had failed to submit an opinion. Under the column that would have had a printed response, there were question marks, followed by a plus sign. They were being counted as though they wanted the Rabbit Hunting to happen. Michael tossed the list back to Raphael.

"So why'd you bring this here?"

"You didn't look through it closely enough…" Raphael flipped through the pages and then read from it, "Archangel Michael. Powers. Elemental of Fire. Quoted: 'I don't give a shit what you do to them. Kill them all, for all I care.'"

The Fire Angel blinked. "… Oh, I said that to Cheriour when he came down to Assiah the first time."

"You said THAT to HIM? Dammit, Michael! He submitted those words as your opinion!"

"Yeah, I see that."

"… It doesn't bother you that you've just said, 'go ahead and kill my Guarded because I don't care'?"

"Well, when I kill everyone who tries to do anything to Nema, they should figure out where I really stand, now, shouldn't they?"

"You shouldn't have to WORRY about trying to kill people, you know! All you needed to do is put in a fucking opinion stating that you don't want the Rabbit Hunting to happen, and they'll leave you the fuck alone! Along with that, Nema would be automatically safe because she's under your watch!" Raphael was actually swearing, which was a good enough sign of how frustrated he was with Michael.

"Well, go ahead and change my opinion, then!"

"I don't HAVE that power. As it is, once you've submitted one in the positive, they won't let you change. Cheriour is a fucking TYRANT, Michael. And now, you're stuck in this position because you didn't want to get involved in political bullshit! Cheriour's going to label you as a traitor."

"Let him label me, then! I don't care what he thinks!"

"When that happens, Michael, they won't be attacking just for Nema. They'll be after YOUR skin, too!"

The idea only seemed to appeal to Michael as a slow, cruel smile spread itself on his face. "Fine, then. They can bring it. … But all the people who didn't want the Rabbit Hunting to happen are safe?"

"They can't be labeled as traitors, can they? To do that they'd have to suddenly WANT the Rabbit Hunting to happen, and if they did that, there's no one to call them on it and attack them for it. The I-Children have no military system, Michael. They are alone." Michael absorbed this information in silence, so Raphael continued. "… And that means that the only thing traitors of I-Children get is a pat on the back, a sword or a gun, and a Rabbit to hunt."

The Fire Angel was silent for a long time before he moved, reaching out to pick up the tipped over glass. "… So, then… what? You just came here to get pissy?"

"To warn you… and to get pissy, too, I guess." The Wind Angel admitted. "You know you're like a brother to me… But damn, the decisions you make…!"

"… Hmm."

Raphael sighed. "I don't know… I've gotta get going, though. An I-Child came into my office today… He had a bleeding child with him. I don't know HOW he managed to get as far as he did without getting killed. But I need to go tend to the kid's wound."

"Hmm."

Raphael knew this sudden quietness that fell over Michael meant that he was thinking over something. While Raphael knew that the current situation couldn't be changed, he was glad that Michael was at least acknowledging that things had just gotten sticky. There used to be days when Michael wouldn't have thought anything over twice. "… You know, it's not too late to fix things."

The Fire Angel threw on a sneer. "… What?"

"Don't act like a badass. You can't change what's happened… But you can keep it from getting worse. That's what's important, right?"

"… Hmm."

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

… I wonder how long they're gonna keep talking! I'm trying to be good and not eavesdrop, but it gets so damn tempting when it sounds like Raphael is SWEARING at Michael.

Nema wrote in her diary using one of several pens that now had one of her black feathers attached. She figured that she might was well put them to good use. After all, they all looked like perfectly healthy feathers, glossy and black.

I guess it doesn't really matter how long they continue talking, 'cause after this I'm still gonna be stuck in the house. I'm genuinely hoping that it won't be so shitty around here, anymore. Call me crazy, but Michael is actually an insanely fun guy to be around when we're training. It's weird to watch. I always knew he was a violent guy, but in this kind of "violence" he becomes very kind, very helpful. He smiles, but it's less psychotic. Instead it's pleasant, maybe even gentle… in spite of the fact that he's trying to restrain me in a painful position.

I know it doesn't make any sense. A person becoming kind while he's tackling you. But I think… it's probably because this is the thing Michael is best at. Even I will admit that he is top notch at teaching other people how to fight. I think he knows that, too, and that's what makes him happy.

… It makes me sad to wonder if that is the ONLY thing that makes him happy. If it is, no wonder he is so angry all the time. He'd probably feel happiest in the middle of war. He should join the military.

But you know, if he didn't HAVE to watch over me, and he decided to go ahead and enlist… And I could see him doing that…

"… I think I'd miss him." Nema penned the words down into her diary and shut it, setting the pen in the spiral binding. She really would miss him, the day he left her, and she was sure that at some point, life was going to become stable again, and he would leave. And she really, truly would miss him. Life was going to be boring without him, even if he got on her nerves more than half the time. Michael made her life chaotic and weird, but at least while he was around, she wasn't so angry. She didn't have to be angry so long as he was right here… She liked that. She liked that a lot.

At that moment the center of her thoughts stomped into her room, slamming the door behind him, though this was really pointless, since there was no one else in the house. He wore a firm frown, his eyes shut tightly as his hand recklessly itched through his hair, exhaling through his nose in a sort of angry sigh. Michael was a true picture of frustration right then. Nema cocked her head to the side.

"… Verbal beating?"

Michael shot her a green glare that served as a confirmation. Nema was lying on her belly, her chin supported by one of her hands as it was still cocked to the side. She was kicking her booted feet up as though she were a giddy, bubbly girly girl. The vision repulsed Michael. What reason did she have to be so chipper, besides secretly drooling over him? HIM? Sometime in the past night Nema must have lost her mind.

Because there was no one in their sane mind that would WANT to want him. That was like signing up for suicide.

Michael had long accepted that as a fact. For the hundreds of years he lived, it had never bothered him before. He always had more important things to do with his time than consider the idea of being wanted. To top it all off, it was a sin to take those kinds of endeavors. Not that Michael really cared about right and wrong… it just made a good excuse.

Michael liked excuses. He made as many of them as humanly possible when he was in situations he didn't like. Excuses like, he's not cut out for that kind of relationship. He had better things to do. It was a sin. She was a Rabbit, anyway. That's right, it didn't matter if the moonlight, streaming through the window without the shields of curtains, made her skin glow, her hair shimmer, and reflected in her blood red eyes, making her look more and more like the otherworldly being the lay dormant in her human mindset. It didn't matter of Michael thought that looked pretty damn cool… or pretty… it didn't matter. She was all white and red, with black wings. Just a Rabbit.

Her boots thumped against the bed as she sat up. "Your eyes look blue…"

Michael's surprisingly blue eyes suddenly went green again. It was just four words… it was enough to make him revert back into the man he knew front and back. So what if his eyes were blue? Maybe they hadn't been a pure blue for hundreds of years… well, who cared? The only person who ever really gave a damn about the color of his eyes was…

'Michael-sama, I wish you wouldn't be so angry. Did you know that when your spirit's calm… your eyes become the most amazing shade of blue?'

… Bal…

"… Michael?"

The Fire Angel threw on his best sneer and began snapping at her. "Who the fuck cares what color my eyes are? Must be a woman thing! Do you sit there and stare at my face all the damn time?"

He watched the moonlight play off her red eyes as they narrowed. "What the fuck? I'm just making a random observation! It was too fucking quiet!"

"That's a fucking woman thing, too…! Always needing so much noise!" He grinned cruelly. This was more like it… There were too many other important things going on to let her stare up at his eyes! He'd put her back in line!

"OKAY, WHAT THE HELL, MICHAEL? You know, not ALL women are alike!"

It was just like Nema to challenge him. That was the first thing he liked about her. She didn't cower before him because to her, he was just another person in her life. Not high above her. "They're not?" He'd have to prove her wrong, now…

"No, they're n-" It felt like all the words Nema had planned to say left in a forced exhalation of breath, the weight of Michael's body crushing her to her bed as he tackled her. It probably wouldn't have been as bad if she was wearing her usual outfits… the skirt and the bloomers would have done a good job of putting space between them. Instead she was stuck in the tiny excuse for an outfit she'd worn for training. While they were training, Nema hadn't thought much of it. But right now, Nema thought about it. She thought about it a lot.

Then Michael had to make it all worse. Michael had to kiss her.

Nema's first reaction was to fight him off. She didn't appreciate the anger flashing in his eyes as he threw his mouth on hers. Really, that's what it felt like. It was too sudden and, especially for a rape victim – not that Michael seemed to be thinking about that – way too rough. So she immediately struggled and cried out, flailing as best she could under Michael's body. All the training told her he sometimes forgot to watch out for the opponent's legs, which she was lucky enough to have as a strong suit, but Michael had carefully pinned hers down first – he'd obviously learned to watch them better, now. She couldn't manage to do much with her arms before Michael grabbed them by her wrists and slammed them down. His strength wasn't in check. It felt like he was CRUSHING her wrists.

"STO-" Nema had only managed to say this much before Michael took advantage of the open mouth and deepened the kiss, reducing her to muffled cries, again. With no other movement available to her, she could only focus on the pressing of lips against hers. It had been so sadistic and forced. Now Michael was slowly calming down. It was by no means soft. It felt very hungry, to her… needy, almost. But why he would kiss her like that was beyond her, especially because they had been arguing seconds before.

As the kiss began to feel like something genuine, the fear left Nema. She decided that though Michael could have found a less violent way to start it, once she'd calmed down, he was actually a very good kisser. Nema suddenly felt too hot. She was sure the temperature of the whole room must have risen… that couldn't be right… with all the windows gone, the room ought to be colder than usual! No, it couldn't be right… even if everything else felt right. All the shock put aside… having Michael kiss her felt very right. It felt very good, and she began to kiss him back, leaning into it…

A pleading mixture of a cry and a sigh rolled from her mouth as he suddenly tore his mouth away from her. Michael glared down at her with a blue-green gaze, his frowning mouth quivering as though he had something important to say. Then those eyes went green and he snarled all these words at her:

"YOU WOMEN ARE ALL ALIKE! You see? All a man needs to do is fucking KISS her and she goes to putty! There doesn't have to be any sort of emotion, any CARING, behind it! If a man wants a woman to shut up, he just has to throw his mouth on hers and she starts acting like she's found the love of her life! FEH! Love! Just an excuse for a woman to spread her legs to a man! And you are no better than THEM, Nemaelle! I don't care if you're a Rabbit… you are just like every other fucking female! Thinking that because I've kissed you, that must mean that I NEED you in my life! Well, you listen up: I WILL NEVER NEED YOU. I WILL NEVER WANT A FUCKING RABBIT LIKE YOU. So you can throw those ideas out of your head, Nema…! THEY WILL NEVER COME TRUE."

Michael watched her wide, scared red eyes as he spoke, and smiled evilly as those red orbs narrowed in anger. It was a pained anger, more than anything else. Michael could feel it echoing between them. It almost felt like her heart was breaking, and the Fire Angel, her Guardian Angel, pasted that cruel smirk on his face. This felt right. That heartbroken hatred emanating from her… now, THAT was normal. How it should be.

Michael shoved himself away from her and stomped out of her room, slamming the door for the second time that day, not giving her the time to say or do anything in response. He didn't stray far. He plopped down in the hallway, right beside the bedroom door, telling himself that he'd somehow made life a bit more like he was used to.

That really weird stabbing feeling going on in his chest? Like in all actuality, he'd done something wrong?

… He wasn't used to that. But he hoped that maybe he'd go numb to it after a while.