Improper Guardian
Chapter Twenty Seven
By: Brenli
"Cheriour-sama…"
The tall figure was not wearing his dark cloak, for once. Instead, he had donned a white labcoat. His lab was dark, so suspiciously dark one had to wonder if the lights had all gone out. "How is the troublesome Angel doing?" He merely asked as he swished something red in a test tube.
By now, everyone knew that Cheriour's sort of codename for Michael was "the troublesome Angel." Ever since the day Michael had found out that Nema was still alive, Cheriour had made it a point to become much more distant from the Fire Angel. He'd changed offices. He no longer drew Michael's blood himself. Well, he simply never associated with Michael, anymore. The truth was, Cheriour had been a little worried that with the knowledge that Nema still lived, Michael would have switched sides. He was quite relieved to know that Nema would not have taken him in, and was plain pleased to know that Michael, however angry and hurt, had decided to play along with Cheriour's game. He was amazed. There must have been something truly messed up inside the fiery man, to honestly keep on going along as a Rabbit Hunter. He knew it was not that Michael had learned to appreciate his views. It was painfully evident in his deliberate cutting and his reckless popping of the pills. The strange, troublesome Angel was still suffering from internal, emotional wounds, then. It was almost too much stress to keep him around, but he did, and now he asked the Rabbit Hunter before him as to his condition.
"He is conscious, but very weary. I'm not sure if we should draw his blood today."
"Indeed. It might be too much. Well, then. Another day of rest for him. You have taken away his pills?"
"Yes. He complains of an itchiness in the wounds, but the wounds are almost completely healed over."
"Then we will let him endure that sort of minor annoyance." Cheriour said placidly, but as he turned just slightly, a strange sort of smile was on his face. "Come. I would like to show you something."
His subordinate was quick to come forward and observe what Cheriour was doing. Before him was placed a glass container, in which Cheriour had encased a white rabbit. But Cheriour held the test tube before his nose. "You know what this is?"
"… Michael's blood?"
"Yes. Now I shall ask you this. What element does Michael claim?"
"Fire, of course."
"And would you say that he lives up to being a Fire Angel?"
"I'd say so. He was born into it, wasn't he?"
"Yes. One could say it was in his blood."
The Rabbit Hunter said nothing before his superior.
"I took it upon myself to test something… I believe it was a most fortunate little game. The blood you see before you… It is impure. It is pure blood, but it contains too many of the things that make it blood… in this blood… is a truly magnificent thing."
"Then how do you make the blood… pure?"
"That was the trick. I had merely meant to preserve his blood, and so I freezed it. However, I awoke one night to hear a horrifying type of scream. Curious, I began to look for the victim, and found it."
"… What was it?"
"It was a mouse. At the time I had only had one little test tube of Michael's blood frozen. I do not begin to know just what this strange little mouse had been doing, but it was carrying a match in its mouth. As it ran along, it must have struck the match against the wall, lit the match, and in instinctual shock, dropped the match. However, this was a bad decision. The match rolled and lit the bag containing Michael's blood sample on fire. The heat from the fire shattered the glass test tube, and the frozen blood landed on the mouse. And now here is the interesting part. It would appear that the blood, though frozen, reacted violently to the fire and actually exploded, landing bits onto the mouse and lighting the mouse on fire."
"… Michael's blood exploded?"
"Yes. A curious thing, isn't it?" Cheriour said smoothly. "I conducted more experiments on sections of Rabbit flesh for a short while. I had come to the conclusion that after extracting the DNA strands that clearly label the blood as Michael's own and freezing it… I come across a most deadly and potent weapon. It must be frozen before it can become so deadly… and I find that deliciously amusing and ironic. But once it is frozen… A very sudden increase in temperature…" Cheriour stopped speaking to smile. It was a smile a little different from his usual cold ones. There was a strange kind of curl on one side, and it succeeded in making him seem childlike and yet very deadly.
"… Cheriour-sama…?" His subordinate tried weakly.
"Allow me to show you the effects of his blood. See here." Cheriour showed him a box no bigger than a standard cigar box. "The truth is… this is a bit much for our subject." He indicated the little white rabbit as it blinked its reddish pink eyes up at the two Angels. "Please meet today's little subject. His name is Liberty. I thought it would be so wonderfully symbolic to use him today." With this he opened the glass container and put the box inside. "This container is covered in Angel Crystal, so it will not shatter and spread. Strapped around the box are wires, you see?"
"Yes. And grass…?"
"It is my detonator. Liberty here hasn't had a decent meal all day, and he's a plump little rabbit. He needs his food. He will eat the grass and receive a surprise. Look, there he goes! Watch him."
Liberty the little white rabbit first sniffled about the box, and then gingerly nibbled the grass. After a short while, Liberty got too ravenous, and chewed heartily on a group of blades, until finally, Liberty, who only wanted to eat, chewed through a wire.
"God!" Cheriour's subordinate cried. "What…?"
The scream was so defined and sharp, even Cheriour winced to hear it. Cheriour was right. The cigar box was too much for Liberty. The blood, suddenly detonated and rushing forward with a sudden application of sharp heat, exploded from the box and covered the entire container. The screams were repeated and all that could be seen of Liberty was frantic running against walls, until finally, with a long and strange kind of wail, a thud was heard, and nothing more. Cheriour took a pair of tongs and opened the container, pulling out the formerly white rabbit. The rabbit was black, now. Frozen stiff in some kind of horrifying position… the legs spread, the mouth wide open. The ears that should have flopped were stuck in a strange, bent angle.
"Like… like napalm…" The Rabbit Hunter said quietly.
Cheriour only smiled. "And Liberty the rabbit… is no more." He carelessly dropped the burnt rabbit back into the container. "The truth is… with the one last test tube of Michael's blood, I am finished with the preparations for a most delicious show."
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He was happy that he hadn't told her that he loved her. He had almost made that mistake when she decided to end it… he wasn't sure what influenced him to try and say it. The very moment she had decided to end it, he had been filled with an urgency to preserve the relationship… But he was happy he hadn't said it. For she was right. It would have been a lie to tell her that he loved her. It wasn't about whether Rujiel cared for her, because he did, and she knew that. But he did not love her.
It was true that he did care for Nema. She possessed a heartbreak that he could identify with, and it truly was a selfless motion on his part to try and cure her of that pain. For the duration of the relationship, he had tried to believe that finally, after so many years of longing for a part of Nyssa that had died off, he was moving on. He really had wanted to believe that Nema would have eventually filled in the little void in his heart. And though there were moments when he shut his garnet eyes and Nema would somehow become Nyssa, he had, for a short time, believed that at least Nema was charging forth, forgetting the White Wing that had betrayed her. And he had believed that in due time he would follow her.
But now, there would be no "due time." For Nema had never forgotten the fiery Angel she had once been with. And now Rujiel could do nothing more than give her an ending kiss, an apology, and leave.
"Rujiel. You missed quite a show."
Oh God. Why at this moment…? "… I could hear the screaming from here." Rujiel said quietly to Nyssa.
"May I ask what you are doing moping in front of my bedroom door?"
Rujiel blinked and looked around. Sure enough… his pain had made him walk to Nyssa's room. Good Lord… like he wasn't pathetic enough already. "… I'm not sure."
"Well, then," Nyssa shrugged it off. As icy as ever… no longer the girl Rujiel had been fond of. And yet… he could never forget her. "If you don't mind, I would suggest that you go. Nema is very angry… it is one of those times she could use your comfort."
"… No. No, it's not."
"Oh?"
Rujiel smiled crookedly, but his garnet eyes betrayed several layers of pain. "… I am not the guy she'd be interested in seeing right now."
"… Really."
"Really." He fought the urge to be completely miserable, and his sadness came out in a quiet sort of laugh, short and lonely. "I won't be seeing her, anymore… I am not… the one she's interested in."
"… So she still carries a torch for Michael."
Ouch. God bless that blunt honesty of Nyssa's… but… ouch. "… Yeah." Was all he could say to this cold and cruel girl… that he still loved.
"With all due respect to you, I understand that kind of longing…"
Oh no… there she goes…
"For the truth is that in spite of his cruelty, I still love Ashriel… Cheriour."
There she goes speaking about HIM…
"I know he is inhumanly evil now… but I remember the better parts of him…"
Speaking about HIM, and…
"But it often feels like the only one who even believes me is Nema…"
… and forgetting who was waiting right in front of her. "Ashriel is dead." Rujiel said firmly, suddenly. And things got quiet.
Nyssa had grown all too accustomed to this kind of accusation. "I know that is what you believe, but –"
"But nothing, Nyssa! Ashriel is dead!" Rujiel snapped.
"… No. The truth is that you refuse to accept the idea that Cheriour is one of us…" Nyssa began quietly.
"THE TRUTH IS THAT ASHRIEL IS DEAD, CHERIOUR IS SCUM, AND YOU…!" Rujiel watched Nyssa's expressions change from icy to curious nervousness.
"And I?"
"AND YOU ARE PATHETIC FOR HOLDING ONTO SOMETHING THAT ISN'T THERE!" Rujiel bit out harshly.
And then something so strangely miraculous happened. Nyssa's ivory brows pinched together and her bright green eyes narrowed. It was a peeved look… an angry look. "… You are not one to talk. If you understand what I mean."
"I never said that I was NOT pathetic! I know that I am… the biggest mess ever…! A disgrace to all I-Children! A puppy! I KNOW all that, already! But do you know how pathetic you are? Go ahead and act cold and logical. But I know you much better than that. I know that the truth is you're just as pathetic as me…! Pretending he's alive… pretended he's HIM! Like this is somehow comforting!" He watched as Nyssa almost struck him, amazed at the sudden violence which he blocked quickly, taking hold of her wrists.
"If you ever… ever… EVER…!" Nyssa suddenly hissed at him. So unlike the Nyssa of now… but so much like…
"Ever what? Tell you the plain truth?"
"YOU SPEAK LIES!" Nyssa yelled, her hands flailing in his grip.
"EVEN IF ASHRIEL REALLY IS CHERIOUR, YOU THINK THAT MAKES IT OKAY TO HOLD ONTO HIM? HE'S GONE, HE'S DEAD! EITHER WAY, ASHRIEL IS DEAD!"
"SHUT UP! YOU FUCKING… ASSHOLE!"
Rujiel just shook his head at her. "Bitch."
He allowed her to slap him this time. "… I hate you. I swear a thousand times I hate you...!" And yes, those words hurt him… but he could not begin to describe… how much sudden faith they sparked in him. Nyssa was angry… allowing emotion to run through her… and somewhere locked inside, was the girl he'd loved way back when. And still loved, now.
And Nyssa froze as she felt his two pale, strong arms suddenly wrap themselves around her. Damn Rujiel for being such a strange man…! Damn him for deciding to hug her at time like this…! After calling her a liar…! It was then that she felt the quick, soft shaking of his shoulders. Crying, now. From insults and namecalling to crying. Only pathetic people acted like this.
She did not care to acknowledge that her shut eyes her brimming with tears, themselves.
"… I miss you." Rujiel finally said. "I miss you, Nyssa… Every day I swear I want to kill Cheriour… because he took you away. I LOVE you, Nyssa. I want you back… not even for myself. I just… want you back… Where's the girl I loved? She doesn't smile, anymore. She doesn't laugh… I can't pick on her and tease her, anymore. We can't be happy together, anymore… we can't be friends. Is that my fault?" Rujiel squeezed her, hating how her body tensed. "I would give anything to bring the Nyssa I miss back… I would bring back Ashriel if that meant you would be the girl that I loved. Even if that means I STILL can't hold you like this. Even if that means I will never kiss you. I just… don't care. I love you, Nyssa…"
Nyssa began to gently push away. She was, for some reason… disturbed that he was allowing her to step back, now. She… wanted him to pull her closer.
"… Even Nema knows that. Everyone knows that I love you, Nyssa. Everyone knows that I always have… but you're never going to look my way."
Nyssa looked up at him with scared green eyes. "Rujiel… it's just that… my heart…" What was it about hearts, anyway…? Always causing so much pain… Sometimes Nyssa wished that she had no heart. But it was there…forever with a constant ache. But somehow, right now, it was magnified so much more. "… I'm sorry…" She said softly.
"What for…? All you did was fall in love." Rujiel said quietly, miserably. "And you know… there's nothing wrong with being in love."
"Yes, there is…!"
Oh, no.
What had she done?
What in the world had compelled her… to kiss him?
Quickly, she pulled away, afraid to look back up at him. When she finally did, she found that his garnet eyes had gone wide, but they could not focus on her. He seemed… almost bashful, about it. Maybe he really was. It must have been the last thing he had expected from the likes of the new Nyssa, as placid as ever. It was the last thing she herself had expected… Oh God… what had she done?
"… I…"
Finally Rujiel's wide red eyes focused on her.
"… I am unwell. And you should know better than to pick on a girl when she is ill."
She watched Rujiel blink rapidly. She wondered how many mental daggers had endured already, and wondered how many more he could take. She was cold again. Cold… a familiar shell, and inside that shell, she could mourn losses without the fear of being babied and… cared for… and loved.
Nyssa turned from him, now. Opened her bedroom door and stepped inside. And then she stuck one last dagger inside him. "That was one difference between you and Ashriel. Ashriel knew better than to pick on girls."
She shut the door and locked it before he could get so angry he would charge at her. She tried to tune out his words, but they were much too loud and painful, ripping through the cold shell she wrapped around herself. "ASHRIEL…! HE HAD NO SPINE! YOU WANT TO PLAY LOW LIKE THAT, FINE! YOU WANT TO KNOW THE REAL DIFFERENCE BETWEEN ASHRIEL AND ME? I LOVED YOU MORE! ASHRIEL WAS A COWARD WHO PLAYED INTO GOD'S FUCKING IDEAL PICTURE! HE DIDN'T LOVE ANYONE! YOU THINK HE LOVED YOU? HAH! HE WENT WITH YOU BECAUSE YOU WOULDN'T LEAVE HIM ALONE! THAT'S LOVE?" She shuddered when he hit her door. "HE MOVED AWAY FROM HERE BECAUSE HE WAS ASHAMED TO BE SEEN WITH YOU! YOU CALL THAT LOVE! MAYBE I AM STRANGE, AND I'VE GOT A BIG MOUTH, AND I PICK ON GIRLS! BUT YOU KNOW WHAT, NYSSA? I'M NOT ASHAMED TO LOVE YOU! I'LL WALK WITH YOU IN THE MIDDLE OF THE BATTLEFIELD, HAND IN HAND! I WILL, IF YOU LET ME! AND THAT'S NOT LOVE? I NEVER THOUGHT I'D SEE THE DAY WHERE I TELL YOU TO GO FUCK YOURSELF, NYSSA! I'VE BEEN IN LOVE WITH YOU FOR YEARS! I'VE SUFFERED FOR YOU LIKE YOU WOULDN'T BELIEVE, BUT HERE YOU ARE, MAKING A MAN LIKE ASHRIEL OUT TO BE BETTER THAN ME! AND IN SPITE OF THAT, I STILL LOVE YOU! DENY IT ALL YOU WANT! BUT I LOVE YOU! IF I LOVED YOU ANY MORE, I WOULD DIE!"
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Why was the Rabbit Territory so quiet, tonight? It had been strangely easy to slip past the boundaries… Nema's guard was down.
Michael rubbed a hand against one of his freshly scarred arms and shook his head. Well that wasn't any good. He idly wondered if he should risk getting pummeled by several albino Angels just to tell her that she needed to fix that. It was mere luck that nearly all the of the Rabbit Hunters were celebrating. He wasn't sure what they were celebrating and to be honest, he couldn't give a flying fuck about it. He knew it was something about some new kind of weapon… Well, Michael didn't care. He wasn't interested in any kind of new weapon. … He wasn't interested in very much, anymore.
Lucifer had attempted to make him promise to never see Nema, again. Strangely, it was this attempted promise that made Michael actually consider not seeing Nema anymore… after he had passed out, he had a truly horrifying dream. It was her. Pretty as always. Sewing something. Her belly big with pregnancy. Jesus, five children already born, of various ages. Three boys and two girls. In a big house. It reminded him vaguely of his own, and so, for a short moment, Michael had been happy. They were his kids, then. … Actually, the idea of fatherhood intimidated him. But hey. These were HIS kids. And then Michael went to her. And she smiled.
And then HE was there. That Ruji bastard gave HER a kiss. On her pregnant belly. And then Michael realized these weren't his kids. They were Rujiel's. And then Nema looked up at Michael and asked, "Who are you, again?"
God… fucking HORRIFYING. Michael didn't want to be around that. And that kind of a future was possible, now… now that the Ruji bastard stole kisses from her whenever he wished. And Michael wondered if maybe he SHOULD have stopped picking fights with Nema. … After all, she wasn't a very weak girl. If she were, Michael wouldn't have ever enjoyed her company. So… maybe it would've been okay to just… let her go. Not because he didn't love her… because he still did. But because… it was just too hard… and there had already been too much pain…
Again, Michael shook his head. In spite of his internal contemplations he had been drawn into Rabbit Territory. He wasn't sure what brought him here. For once, he wasn't looking for a fight…
But someone else, with more than enough misfortunes on him, wouldn't have minded a fight. And there he was, with his peculiar black and white hair and angry garnet eyes.
"What the Hell are you doing here, White Wing?"