AUTHORESS NOTE: Look, notes! I'm learning how to be a good writer!

Urusai – Shut up.

Improper Guardian

Chapter Fifteen

By: Brenli

On the fifth day Raphael made his visit to Nema's house, equipped with another bottle of the cold medicine (in the unlikely event that Nema would need it), and a heavy heart.

"I think I'm beginning to lose it…" She had told him quietly, as if this were a perfectly rational way of greeting someone.

"Don't talk like that…" Raphael had replied, letting Nema take two sips of the cold medicine, for she, surprisingly, still had a cold. "I know you're hurt… that's no reason to plead insanity."

"No, I honestly think I'm losing it… Last night I began to hear things, Raphael…"

The Wind Angel arched a brow at her, and waited for her to continue.

"Cruel voices… they laugh and say things like 'oh, ugly Rabbit,' and 'kill the Rabbit…' and this morning… I thought it looked like the sheets on my bed where crawling…" Nema looked up at Raphael with tired red eyes. "… Do you think I need to go to the crazy house?"

"You're not going anywhere." Raphael had told her. "Hang in there… I need to go."

"Please don't leave me… The weird things only stopped when you came around."

"Nema, I can't…"

"I need you to keep the trouble away… because he won't, anymore…"

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"She thinks she is going insane, Michael..."

"Sounds like Demons are picking on her…" The Fire Angel said darkly. "Kill them all, for me."

"How could Demons get to her without Cheriour noticing? Wouldn't he do something about it?"

"Are you fucking joking? He probably watches it and laughs. I'll bet the bastard PAYS to get Demons to do this." Michael pulled on his chains again. It was a habit he had formed. He struggled in spite of the fact that he knew he could not break free. "It's that fucking bastard who's insane…! Not her!"

Raphael watched his friend struggle and fume. "… Just two more days… And then I can let her know about you."

"Two days too fucking long! If you didn't say the wrong fucking shit…!" Michael snarled, suddenly hurling his rage at the Angel before him. Just imagine how much better things would have been if only Raphael hadn't been stupid enough to talk about his lucky-in-love self! Damn him for being able to keep his secret for as long as had… Michael's secret didn't even last a damn DAY!

Raphael's icy eyes narrowed under the heated glare Michael sent him. "It's not like I knew I was being recorded! Do you think if I did know, I would've said anything about Barbiel?"

"So? So what? Why would you go off about that shit anyway to her, in that sorry-ass state she's in? Rubbing in that you've got someone and she's got nothing at all?"

"If you ask me YOU are the one who's bitter about who had more time with their significant other, Michael!" Raphael snapped. The Wind Angel watched the angry shock smear itself onto Michael's face, soon shaken off as Michael looked into the far left corner of the room he had been encased in. "… Look, this isn't fixing anything."

"It's not about fixing anything… I just want something to kill…" Michael's voice out quietly, and to Raphael's surprise, brokenly. The last time Michael had ever sounded torn was so long ago… before Nema, and before Setsuna…

"Mika-chan, don't be that hopeless…"

"What the fuck, okay, Raphael? How am I supposed to feel? Happy? Every day I have to hear about how she thinks I've forgotten her… and then you have to come in and tell me she thinks she's going mad… I'm supposed to take that and smile my ass off? Just… fuck you."

Raphael sighed.

"And don't call me Mika-chan."

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The sixth day came around. One more day, and Raphael could finally tell Nema everything she wanted to know. And he would probably have to fight with Cheriour, but he'd do it like Michael would have – fiercely and mercilessly. But as the Wind Angel stepped inside, he quickly forgot about any of this.

It was late in the day when he'd finally found the time to check in on her. He stepped in through the door and was shocked to see that a great deal of Nema's furniture was knocked over. There was a broken glass in the kitchen with a puddle of milk on the floor.

Then he heard the eerie calling of a name. "Miiichael…" It came from down the hall, somewhere.

It was coming from Nema's bedroom.

When he walked in he wanted to pretend what he saw wasn't real. Nema was sitting in a pile of blankets that were piled by her bedside table. About her room were several more blankets, her pillows, and one of the drawers to her vanity. Her lamp was knocked over and broken. "Oh God, what have You done to her?" Raphael whispered under his breath.

Her eyes looked up, glassy and red, through the stray strands of her snowy hair, and her large black wings, almost big enough to make her full-grown, drooped over her body. He noticed that in her tiny hands she had a white rosary wrapped about her fingers, and the Angel Crystal cross sparkled up at him. "… I don't understand… It's broken so many times before… but now he does it… and suddenly I'm a loon?"

"… What's broken?"

"Her heart, that ugly Rabbit heart!"

"URUSAI!" Nema wailed.

The voice that commented on her Rabbit heart came through clear in Raphael's ears. It sounded twisted and demonic, and soon the Wind Angel witnessed one of Nema's vanity drawers leave its correct spot and land in the center of the room. And then not just that one voice, but three voices together, began taunting the poor Rabbit in the room.

"Ugly, weak little Rabbit!"

"Disgusting creature!"

"Kill the Rabbit!"

These words and more were mixed with chilling laughs, and Raphael looked around for the sources of these voices. The Wind Angel watched one leg of Nema's bed lift off the ground and land back down with a loud 'crack', and Nema snatched her alarm clock and threw it out of the window. "URUSAIIIIII!" She screeched, and then she sobbed and crumbled down against her bedside table, holding the rosary against her mouth. "Miiiichael, where are you…?" Her voice cracked and came out creepy-sounding.

Raphael kneeled before her and touched her quivering shoulder. "Nema, shh… the voices are gone." Indeed, the moment she'd thrown out her clock the voices had stopped.

"Can you hear them…? All those fucking voices…!"

"Yes… and that means you aren't crazy, Nema." He reassured her. "Stay here… I'll make the voices go away."

He knew exactly what to do and where to go. While those voices were chilling and cruel, he could not feel a demonic presence anywhere around him. He had a very good idea what was going on. Raphael left Nema's house, turned and went to the side of her house just outside her bedroom window. There, on the roof, sat three Angels, wearing their dark cloaks and playing with what looked like little talismans, each bearing a 'C'.

"Cheriour's been letting you toy with Nema?" Raphael called up, and the three Angels looked down at him with stern faces and jumped to the ground.

The Wind Angel's eyes widened. They were only boys!

"What do you care, Rabbit-lover!" One of the boys spat.

Well, so they were only boys, then. Raphael snatched the talisman from one boy's hand, and a sad excuse for a struggle ensued, yet Raphael stole their talismans easily. And the three boys whined in voices that no longer twisted and turned with demonic tones, but Raphael sent them off. "Tell Cheriour he shouldn't be getting little KIDS caught up in this! You're too young to know what side you should be on!"

But boys will be boys, and they flipped him of and ran away, leaving Raphael with three small talismans in his hand. "Nema!" He called out to her, and he noticed the pale top of her head become visible. "The voices are nothing to worry about. I need you to get some sleep, okay? I will be back tomorrow."

The distressed girl said nothing, but Raphael excused it and went right where he knew he needed to go next.

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"What the fuck are THESE, Cheriour?" The Wind Angel slammed one of the talismans on Cheriour's desk.

"Oh, how did you find these? They are manipulation runes, a torture device. One holds them and can perform telekinesis. One puts the rune in the mouth, and one can disguise the voice to one's liking. If used on a person confined in a room, and with the right timing, it has the most amazing effect. Would you like to see it work?"

"I've already seen it work." Raphael said coldly. "Why are you sending little BOYS out to torture Nema? I thought you were leaving her ALONE for a week!"

"… Well, yes, but it is near the end of seven days… I thought it might be nice to add some more elements to the experiment, and I must say I am fonder of the results." Cheriour gave Raphael another icy smile.

"Add more elements…?" The Wind Angel scowled at Cheriour. "You've gone against what you said you would do!"

"I do not recall giving myself any limits. I remember limiting only you."

"This is BULL SHIT, Cheriour."

"What a dirty mouth you have! Has Michael-sama influenced you?"

"Maybe he has. You won't mind if I add my OWN fucking elements to your experiment, will you?"

Cheriour's icy smile dropped. "… Is that a threat, Raphael-sama?"

"Take it how you want to. Six days is close enough to seven. Excuse me while I take a trip back down to Assiah. I have information for Nema."

"And I have information for all of Heaven." Cheriour watched Raphael freeze, his hands in tight fists. "It is easy to say you'll do one thing if you forget the consequences of the behavior considered, is it not?"

"… It's been SIX LONG DAYS, Cheriour."

"And six is not seven. Wait until the end of the seventh day and you will never have to worry about your reputation, and if Nemaelle is still alive, you may tell her all you wish to say."

Cheriour watched Raphael shaking in carefully restrained anger, but then he exploded and slammed his fist into Cheriour's desk.

"… Did that make you feel better, Raphael-sama?"

Raphael shook his head, disgusted with Cheriour. "… I will go see Michael before I leave today."

"Very well. Try not to stay for long."

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"Michael!" Raphael quickly entered and marched up to the hanging Archangel before him.

"Raphael… I think I'm going nuts too… Go tell Nema I'm losing marbles with her…"

"What?"

Michael tried pointing to his head, though his arm was chained high in the air. "I keep hearing her in my head…"

"She's praying to you through that rosary she has. I'm making this quick, listen up." Raphael pressed a talisman into Michael's palm and began to speak in as low a whisper as he could make. Michael had to read his lips to fully understand. "I'm going to take you down for a visit tomorrow. You can tell Nema, in the flesh, how much you care."

A sudden smile flashed across the Fire Angel's lips, though he seemed tired and worn from the days hanging in his crystal prison. "It's about fucking time!"

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Seven days. Nema had endured a full week of this personal Hell… locked away in an empty home, longing for a cruel man who never came to her… taunted by things out to catch her sanity.

The hours ticked by. The voices were gone. Sure enough, Raphael had taken them away. And yet it did not cure the lonely, fed-up betrayal spreading outward from her bleeding heart.

She waited and she waited. At noon she received a phone call, but she let it the answering machine pick it up.

"Sweetie! It's Mom. Our flight's been delayed and we won't be back until tomorrow. Just letting you know. Hope you're feeling better! We love you."

Her parents were such kind people. Oftentimes, she would admit to herself, she did not give them the credit they deserved. But even giving them such credit would not make herself feel any better about the downward spiral of events that formed her life.

Sixteen years. A long time, though it felt so short… Nema looked down at her right forearm, the cross-shaped scar hard to see against the paleness of her flesh.

Twelve years. She had been twelve years of age when she had marred her porcelain skin. The span of her life had been shorter, then, and yet she let the sharp blade of her fabric scissors kiss her flesh and bring forth the blood that she often thought didn't even exist within her body.

She remembered the feeling of it leaving her… and it really felt, at the time, like her blood was taking everything else away, too. The sidelong stares. The half-concealed whispers. But best of all, it took away the feeling of cruel, cold hands holding her body down, and the icy voice whispering, "For now and ever you are marked by the hand of God, little bunny girl…! Cry like the whore you will forever be…!"

Four years since then. She had bled, but she hadn't bled enough. And so here she was, allowing herself to endure more moments in her life.

Nema looked at the neatly rolled letter she had tied with a single, white bow. White on white. Nothing but white. Well, the ink was red.

She checked the clock. Already it was late in the evening, and still no Raphael. He was probably going to drop in at night, then, like he had last time. Well, Nema would not wait for him…

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After seven days of being locked up, Michael had picked out a definite pattern in the routine of guards. Cheriour, smug as he was, only came in to watch Michael through his safe observation window when he decided to report on Experiment 36040, Mudou Nemaelle. A guard came once in the morning, once mid day, and one accompanied Cheriour in the evening for the report. There were double doors directly beneath the observation booth, and Michael assumed that there was a pair of guards at constant watch at these doors.

Not that Michael cared. He wasn't planning on leaving through those doors.

After the morning guard came and went, Michael gripped the talisman in his hand and began to manipulate the Angel Crystal, first. There was a camera hiding somewhere… one of the corners. Before the midday guard came he found it, but he didn't do anything to it until that guard did his quick watch and ran off. Once that happened, the Fire Angel set the camera on fire and watched with glee as it fell to the ground. Now, if only using these stupid rocks were that easy…! He had a feeling it was just the fact that Angel Crystal, by nature, is stubborn.

Well, now he really had to get to work. Covering the observation window was a thin, but effective, coat of Angel Crystal. Michael had only to move the Angel Crystal down and out, and he would not only lock the doors, but leave nothing but a thin sheet of normal glass between him and the observation booth. Unlock his chains, bust through the glass, and get the fuck out of there before Cheriour could do shit. Then he was free.

The hours seemed to crawl as Michael gripped the talisman and worked at moving the Angel Crystal. … Shit! The door to the booth was opening! No way the whole day had gone by, already!

"Oh, it's you! What the fuck took you so long?" Michael greeted Raphael as he stepped forth and lifted the hood of a black cloak away from his head.

"I think it's insulting that everyone here believes I really am Cheriour." The Wind Angel said crossly, and unlocked the giant observation window, sliding it open. "Come on. No busting the glass."

"I busted the camera, why not the glass?"

"Because you NEED to bust the camera. You don't NEED to bust the glass. Now come on, before someone comes up here and we're both done for!"

The Fire Angel used the talisman to unlock his chains, and he flew up to the window and quickly scurried through it. "What does it matter, Raphael? I'm not coming back!"

The Wind Angel was silent.

"… I'm not."

"… You're gonna have to."

Michael's blue-green eyes narrowed. "… Why?"

"Think about it. If you don't come back, they'll come after you, me, Nema, and Barbiel."

"I am NOT going back in there, Raphael!"

"Okay, look, Mika-chan –"

"Michael."

"Michael. Okay, look. I'm putting… a LOT at risk so you can see Nema just once. I'm going to devise some kind of plan for your sake, but I'm not getting enough time. I'm just doing this to clear Nema's head for you, Michael. And maybe, if Cheriour shows up, we can kill him together, and if that happens, then EVERYTHING is magically okay. But if he doesn't show, and you don't go back, you know that we four will be hunted down and murdered. I can make a plan, I swear it… but I need more time."

Michael threw on a black cloak of his own, and with their heads hiding under dark hoods, they calmly walked out of the booth, down a narrow flight of stairs, into the prison halls, and out of jail.

"I don't see what you're so fucking worked up about. Nema's fine, I'm fine, you're fine. And even though she hasn't fought in a while, you and I BOTH know Barbiel's trained. She can take care of herself, too!"

"… It's not… her… that I'm worried about."

"Then what the fuck are you so… Holy shit." Michael looked up at his friend from under the heavy, dark hood of his cloak.

Raphael continued to walk on quickly, as though he hadn't mentioned a thing.

"… Is she REALLY…"

"I wouldn't LIE about something like that."

"… How far is she?"

"She says it's probably a week or so."

They were silent until they were both soaring through Assiah's thick, raining clouds, getting closer and closer to Tokyo, and to Nema. "… Congratulations." Michael said as the hood of his cloak fell back.

And though the worry in Raphael's blue eyes shone through, he smiled. "… Thanks. Things will get interesting when Barbiel begins to show… but thanks. I'm happy in spite of the trouble I'm in."

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She took the walk slow. She knew that in spite of its black-and-white point of view, the world had things that could be considered beautiful.

It had just finished raining. Her boots stepped into cold water as she progressed forward, smelling the freshness of the air.

There it was. Turn down the alleyway right there.

It was the building just before Nema's former school, Shibuya Senior High. It was one of many anonymous business buildings, tall, impersonal. Nema had assumed that she could fly to the top, but she stood, and she stared, and she could not will her wings to come forth. They were being stubborn, like they always were, never showing up of her own free will.

Fine, then. She'd go in and take the elevator up.

There. Right at the top. Nema stood at the edge and looked down. Cold, impersonal concrete, just like this cold, impersonal building. Yet it welcomed her. She turned her head to the right and looked upon the ruined, semi-cleared area that used to be her school, and she whispered, "Sayonara."

And then Nema looked up at the sky for one last time. It was gray, and cloudy, yet it held a sad beauty all its own. And she allowed the toes of her boots to take half-steps forth and hang off the edge. "Sayonara," she whispered to the sky, closed her ruby eyes, and began to take a graceful fall into her ending…

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Nema's suicide attempt came to an abrupt end as her pale body was captured by two arms and pulled back against a chest. Her rescuer was squeezing her tightly, the biker glove-covered hands trembling in a mix of shock, rage, sadness.

Right when she believed Michael would never come back… he ran in to save her, like her long lost Angel, coming down to be her hero…

Too good to be true. Her heart felt like it was shattering in all its happiness, and for the thousandth time she cried, but her tears were by no means out of despair. Not anymore.

"Jumpers are weak, too, damn you…! Fucking weak…!" Michael hissed, but his breath came out shaky, and his embrace tightened just slightly. She was wearing his shirt over her dark red tank top and her black, scalloped skirt, her dark red mini-crown cocked off to the left, like she always had it. It was like his dream, but sadder, so much sadder.

Nema would've laughed if her heart wasn't still so heavy. "… What took you so long? You better make it up to me…!"

"How about you NOT DIE and give me the CHANCE to make it up to you!" Michael's voice cracked. "He'd condemn you to Hell… Don't make me have to go down there and beat up shit to save you! … I'll beat you up, too, if you do!"

Finally Nema laughed, though it was quiet and even sounded foreign in her tight throat. "… Are you… crying?"

And the great Archangel shook his head, but she felt the drip of an uncontrolled tear fall onto her shoulder. "… Do you think you are the only one in pain?" He asked simply.

Raphael watched the sorrowful couple begin to take steps backwards, away from the danger of the edge. Did he have to break this up…? This reunion full of solace, one week late? How much longer could he let them linger? If he had no lover to think of, no future child to consider, he would go home. Let them hide together in their cocoon, and he would help fend off any who dared to ruin this sorry couple. For the first time Michael wasn't trying too hard to be cruel… for the first time, he seemed to be fine with showing he possessed a heart. Did Raphael need to break this apart?

The Wind Angel let them stand there, speaking to each other in half-whispers, Michael refusing to let her go… Nema not caring that he wouldn't let go. Did Michael even realize that Raphael was still there?

"It's time to go…" Raphael said, the shame apparent in his voice.

Michael nearly squeezed the stuffing out of Nema, his prized possession, and glared angrily at his friend. "I WANT FIVE FUCKING MINUTES! FIVE!"

"It's almost midnight… If you don't go back soon, we're done for." Raphael said warily.

"… You have to go…" Nema whispered.

"You'll be fine; your parents are coming back, right? And Raphael will see ya once a day. And I'll see if I can sneak out again. And if Raphael figures out a master plan I'll be back to stay. So there." The Fire Angel listed off reasons for Nema to continue smiling.

"… Where are you going?" She asked quietly.

"This stupid jail place-"

"JAIL place?"

"I didn't do anything wrong!"

"Mika-chan, you have one minute…" Raphael interjected, feeling like a jerk.

"Don't call me Mika-chan!"

"Michael, come on!" The Wind Angel was getting nervous.

"God dammit…" Michael swore under his breath, brushed the lightest, quickest of kisses over Nema's pale cheek. "I love you. Don't forget that." He said the words hurriedly, maybe even bashfully, yet there was an honesty Nema picked up on immediately, and she smiled for once in a long, horrible week.

He let her go and walked back to Raphael, and Nema turned.

From not only Michael's back, but Raphael's, as well, stretched broad, snowy white wings, soft yet strong and grand. Her red eyes widened as she stared at them in their black cloaks, dripping with the rain that had started up again, and Michael shook the water droplets off of his pale feathers. He didn't look over his shoulder at her, yet she wondered if he, too, was recalling the number of times he had denied having the wings he did, indeed, own.

"Be careful, Nema," Raphael warned, "You are in a bigger mess than you think… Go home right away. We'd escort you…"

"… But time's short." Nema finished for him, pulling her white rosary out of her pocket and wrapping the beads around her fingers. "I understand."

Without another word, they left her. They appeared to be flying off to the west… though she wasn't even sure if that meant anything. The rain fell over her, and it wasn't long before Nema was drenched.

Still there were endless questions left for the poor girl kept in the dark, but she would not let them bother her. She knew not where Michael was being kept, but he'd found a way to her, and most importantly… he did seem to care, after all. That was enough for the girl kept in the dark. Enough for now.

Nema, dripping in rain, began to leave.

But to no avail.

They came from up high and from down low, black cloaks and white wings, though they did not have the same hospitality that Raphael and Michael readily gave her.

"… Look, a Rabbit caught in the rain. Cheriour would like to see this!"

"His loss. We'll just have to take care of it, for him."

Nema was surrounded from all sides, and though she tried to find a break in the ring to beat through, she was quickly caught around the arms and pulled back into the center, where she was observed like weak prey caught in the pack of wolves.

Where was Michael, now? Was he so far away, already? Nema wanted to scream for her poor luck, but she kept her cool, meeting their evil eyes with her red, angry gaze.

"Michael-sama never learns, does he? But Cheriour will let him slide if we bring back this corpse! He will definitely want your feathers. Or maybe he will stuff you?"

"Can you believe he has a thing for this pale little thing? A Rabbit! What poor taste!"

They sniggered at Nema, and the struggled to break the hold on her arms...

"Certainly can't keep still, can you? Give up. You are nothing compared to us…" The Angel restraining her hissing into her ear, "And Michael-sama isn't here to save you…"

"Some Guardian Angel!"

At last, she was just free enough! Nema promptly elbowed her restrainer in the chest, smiling with her violent glee as he fell back, the wind knocked out of him. And the ring of Angels closed in on her, and she struggled and fought the many bodies coming at her. Why weren't her wings on her side? What wouldn't she give to fly away from them?

"The BITCH! GET HER!" Her restrainer coughed. She had nearly broken through the ring of Angels, but was caught cruelly by her ankles and pulled back in. Her restrainer entered the circle and sneered down at her. "I see why Michael-sama likes you! He must like bitches!"

"I don't know she certainly wasn't acting bitchy when he got lucky!"

Nema froze and felt her blood run cold. What? They knew? How did they…

"Why so shocked, Rabbit? We saw you! We saw that sorry excuse for an Angel screw you!"

"So did you like getting fucked by an Angel? Would you like to go at it again?"

Never! Not with THEM! Nema struggled and kicked as she felt Michael's shirt get pulled down her arms. Her skirt tore as she finally got back onto her feet. No good! Arms from all sides her trying to capture her, tear at her, rape her! No, she wouldn't endure that kind of pain again! Where was Michael, now? The frightened tears blinded Nema, but she flailed and ran where she could.

"Hold still so we can do you, bitch!"

It all happened so fast. She thought she might give out soon, and there was no Michael to save her! She'd push, push away from all of them, and she'd run, oh God she'd run!

She pushed. She felt the wet air flow by her. She saw him, finally, but oh so late.

"Neeemaaaaaa!" She heard him yell. And she fell off the edge of the cold, cruel building. She felt air. She held her hand up to him, but time was not on her side.

She landed. A car alarm in her ears. The feeling of beaten metal forming a pathetic cushion for her fall. Heat at the back of her head. Blood.

She saw Michael's wide green eyes and watched with half-dazed glee as Michael set the building and its Angel inhabitants on fire. She thought she saw Raphael arriving too late.

And then she saw nothing at all.