Improper Guardian
Chapter Thirty Six
By: Brenli
When she woke up that morning, her music box was wide open, as it had been for the past few mornings. It was not customary for Michael to be the first to rise… but for reasons beyond Nema, he had been restless. He never told her why, and she didn't press the matter, though she was beginning to wonder if she should. She stirred, sat up and stretched, then looked into the music box to find, as she had the past few mornings, a note placed on top of the diary pages-turned-letter from Lilliel. She could not, for the life of her, figure out what compelled him to leave these morning notes for her. She thought they were sweet because he took the time to carefully draw them out in kanji, but not something normal for him.
The first note was, "Sorry." She'd asked him why, and he claimed it was because he'd left her to sleep alone because he couldn't go back to sleep.
The second note was, "Love you." And she'd teased him about not being man enough to tell it to her face, but then he'd shrugged it off and got quiet.
Today's note said, "Be safe." And she understood this perfectly. He was unconvinced that this covert operation of hers… to contact Raziel… was completely foolproof. "He won't trust you. You know that? You've been ripping people apart without lifting a finger, Nema. As fucking awesome as that is, that's gotta scare the shit out of him. HE'S the one that let the Rabbit Hunting go unchecked." He'd often grumbled at her.
"So?" She'd always whine childishly.
"So if he's gonna watch his own back, he'll write the whole fucking meeting off as an assassination attempt! And if his Anima Mundi guardsmen suddenly turn right around and attack you, you better come out of it without a scratch on you! I won't forgive you, if you don't!" He always became remarkably childish right back at her, but beneath the snarls and the sharp eyes lurked a great mountain of worry… and she'd never noticed it before… how high-strung Michael could easily become.
"… You worry too much about me." She'd always reply quietly.
This morning, Nema shook her head and folded the note in half, slipping it onto the strap that held a sharp dagger against her left thigh. As she let the soft layers of her petticoat and her black skirt fall over the weapon, she searched for a mini-crown, found it and carefully tied it under her pale chin.
There was a knock on the door, and she called out, "Yes?"
"Nema-sama… the Anima Mundi members are ready to escort you via the underground tunnels to your destination."
"I'm almost ready." The Queen finished tying up her right boot and opened the door. "… Where is Michael?"
"Michael-sama is not on these grounds."
"Really?"
"I would not lie. He left very early in the morning. He said that he would be visiting Raphael."
"Oh." Nema nodded and put aside the momentary disappointment. She had more important things to do, as it was. Today, she would be making the trip to Raziel… she would finally meet the ruler of all Heaven, the I-Child who denied his identity as a Rabbit and even went so far as to reprogram God to maintain some semblance of the old Heaven that the Angels had become much too comfortable with to let go. And she would speak with him and convince him to end the war, and the oppression, and ultimately the reprogramming of God. She would convince him to destroy the old Heaven everyone so loved, but she would do it for the greater good… for the creation of a new Heaven that everyone would love so much more.
It all happens today.
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"Raphael."
"Michael? Hey…" The Wind Angel yawned over the phone. "It's so early… Is something wrong or…?"
"No. If Nema calls you, tell her I'm with you guys. If she wants to talk to me, tell her I'm talking to Uriel and I can't talk to her right now."
"… Why?"
"Say you'll do it."
"… I guess I will, but why?"
"No reason. … Hey, Raphael?"
"… Mmmph?" Raphael mumbled, already falling back asleep.
"So Nema's gonna win the war."
"… How do you know?"
"BECAUSE WE FUCKING KICK ASS! WHAT KIND OF STUPID QUESTION IS THAT?"
"Okay, okay!" Raphael cringed as Michael yelled at him.
"… So when Nema wins, are you gonna marry Barbiel?"
"… I'd like to."
"Why?"
"… What?"
"Why do you wanna marry her? Like… how do you know when you really do, for sure, wanna marry that person?"
"… Well, I love her. I guess… that's all the reason I need."
"… Mmm."
"… Is everything okay over there, Michael? You sound nervous…"
"Oh. Yeah."
"Are you sure…?"
"Yeah. Gotta go."
"… Wait, what's going on?"
"Bye!"
"… Bye?" Raphael responded to the dial tone that rang into his ear, and hung up his phone, burying his face into his pillow. "Weird…"
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Lights were strung up above the heads of Nema and her band of I-Child Anima Mundi members as they marched on down the long, wide tunnel leading to Raziel. On each side of her were straight lines of White Wing Anima Mundi members, regarding her with regal, stoic faces, holding bayonets at their sides. Nema thought nothing of this. These men were supporters of an I-Child, and therefore were nothing for her to fear.
Save for the footsteps, the journey was silent. The lights were bright, and Nema felt more like she was already in a vast building, walking through the basement level… the lamps swung now and then, the effect of what were perhaps military vehicles rolling over the dirt above them. Still she pressed on, wondering when she would finally get there, and could move above ground. She wondered if he would be at the end of the tunnel, ready to greet her. She wondered if he'd be a warm, approachable person, or if he'd be colder, businesslike. And she wondered if they'd talk for a short while, or if it would be a long and difficult debate to get what she wanted.
She stopped in her tracks as a lamp fell and shattered before her. She took several strides forward to look, and was shocked to feel herself get pulled and thrown back into her thick ring of guards. "Nema-sa –" The cry was cut short by a bullet through the head… a bullet from a White Wing bayonet… a bullet meant for her.
And she was quickly swept up in the chaos as all of the White Wings rushed into the tight ring of Rabbits, both sides shooting and scrambling. What was this madness? A trap? A TRAP? Nema quickly took the dagger from its hiding spot under her skirts gave a White Wing arm a warning slash along the forearm, but when that didn't work, she ruptured the whole limb, watching the skin tear and the blood flow and spurt in strange waves in the air.
This didn't make any sense at all…! Raziel was an I-CHILD! There was no way he deliberately did this…! Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong… But for now, she wouldn't think of the injustice of this situation. She was stuck in a trap, a very sticky one, with no idea as to how outnumbered she was… watching blood wash over everyone in this tangled mess that reminded her too much of the Holy Blood battle, only now it was already surrounded by earth on all sides.
That's it, then. Her covert operation was called off. "EVERY MAN FOR HIMSELF!" Nema called bravely as she ruptured the bayonet that tried to skewer her left thigh, feeling the blade catch the fabric of her skirts and tear them open. She watched as Michael's note of the morning floated off and settled on a dead Rabbit's body, only to be stepped on by the White Wing's boot. And with that she cried, "THE MISSION IS CANCELLED! FIGHT YOUR WAY OUT! LET NO ONE STOP YOU!" And she charged in her own direction, stabbing and rupturing her way on to Raziel, regardless of this treachery.
So much for being safe.
She tore on, the blade of her dagger catching fabric and skin and flesh, and now and then piercing the heart of an attacker. Simultaneously, bodies exploded around her. She ran past flying limbs and slivers of skin. A rib cage nearly landed on her head, but she batted it away. She nearly swam through the waves of blood, and while all this happened, bullets meant for her got lodged into the stray body parts. A few caught and tore at Nema's poor skirt and petticoat. One bullet rushed through the softness of her wildly flowing hair.
She felt a sudden and sharp knock on the back of her head, and she fell, her dagger slipping out of her hands. And she expected to be shot at and killed. And she knew that Michael wouldn't forgive her for believing this dream would work… yes, this time around, Nema had dreamt too big.
But when she felt an uncomfortable warmth flowing around her, like carefully managed flames that dodged her. She blinked her eyes to try to get them to focus, and saw shades of red, orange, and gold. And then she felt two hands gripping her and lifting her to her feet. "I TOLD YOU. YOU OWE ME."
It was Michael… Running in to save the day, like the Guardian Angel he should have been, once.
There was no time to wonder why, or to admire him. She continued pressing onward, and this time, the sea of ruptured bodies she pushed through were interspersed with the waves of flame that her Fiery Angel shot forth to protect her. "I HOPE YOU'VE LEARNED YOUR LESSON, NEMA! YOU CAN'T TRUST THE HEAD OF THE GOVERNMENT!"
"You have no faith in me!" Nema snapped as she passed through what remained of a torso she had ruptured to save herself from being stabbed through her face.
"I have PLENTY of faith in you!" Michael pulled her back just long enough to brush a bloodied kiss over her bloodied cheek, and then pushed her to the end of the tunnel. "I never had faith in THEM!"
With her body nearly pressed against the door, Nema looked over her shoulder to see that Michael stood in front her, his feet firmly planted, his body good and ready to charge into the fiery tunnel and the bodies that continued rushing at him. His arms moved quickly to unbind his mighty sword from his back, and there he continued to stand, his sword in hand and ready to reach through the fire and slice into any who dared to come closer.
And when he took a short moment to look back at her, he seemed ready to die for her and damn near happy to do it. "I hope you kick Raziel's ass for this. God knows I WANT TO! NOW GO!"
Nema gave him a firm nod and found the door locked, so she ruptured the thick wood and metal and ran through the slivers, rushing forward because that was the only direction that she was comfortable with… she still had no idea where Raziel himself could be.
She ran. She took a flight of stairs up to the next floor. What was this place? Hallways and doors, just a lot of hallways and doors! She passed a picture of what looked like Raziel at a younger age, standing next to a tall man with glasses and the appearance of a cheerful priest. She would have admired that picture if she didn't feel like she was on the verge of being attacked again.
"… Oh Lord! She made it through!"
Nema's head snapped toward the sound. It was two guards, two White Wing Anima Mundi members, standing like soldiers at either side of a door.
Well… if that wasn't a dead giveaway…
So she slipped her Angel Crystal earring from her ear and felt it shift and morph into her indestructible sword, and decapitated one while rupturing the chest of the other. And now, tired and bloody and sick of this betrayal, Nema went ahead and forced the door into wooden shards, not caring if the door had been locked or not.
And then a gasp left her throat as she felt the blade of her own sword press against the delicate, white flesh of her neck. How was this happening…? She… couldn't move her arm! It might as well have been possessed… she couldn't make it move… the more she tried, the blade pressed into her, until her skin began to give way. She quit struggling.
There was a desk and a tall, important-looking chair. This chair spun around, and she watched him stand, his hair layered and golden, his eyes glowing red, his skin with the healthy and normal glow that so few other I-Children ever could dream to have… and his wings… his impossibly white wings… the thing that made it easy for him to deny his identity as a Rabbit… She was staring face to face with Raziel.
"If you dare to make my head pop open, I WILL return the favor."
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Michael didn't stop to breathe, even for a mere second. God, Raziel must've been scared out of his mind or something… Michael had counted 20 dead by his own hand… And then, of course, there were the various body parts that Michael couldn't count even if he tried, courtesy of Nema. Nema had been so sure of herself, that she had only brought along 10 people to guard and escort her. He hoped that, for her sake, most of them had come out of this mess alive.
See, that was one of those differences between Nema and himself. If Michael was to be considered reckless, then Nema was easily much worse than he. Of course, in a way, that was one of the many reasons he loved her. Her wildness made her brave and undeniably fun. But then she did things like this… and risked her life, as if she had several more lives lined up for her if she lost one. In some sense Michael would quietly admit to himself that he admired that kind of selfless bravery, but for the most part it drove him mad.
It WASN'T like she could expect to always get away with being so lucky. Truly she was lucky little Rabbit… but that didn't mean that she was immune to death. What if she died and her body was never found? What if she was Wing Cut? These two fates could still apply to her. And bless her for being brave enough to push on in spite of those fates, but… Michael fucking loved her, dammit! Those weren't fates he wanted for her. And it was only for this sole reason that he, for once in his long life, wished she'd be more reasonable. If not for her sake, then for his. For his, dammit!
He let out a frustrated yell and made a clean slice through the middle of one last White Wing Anima Mundi member. At least, he was assuming it was the last… because he waited for fifteen minutes, and no one charged through the flames that Michael had spread throughout the tunnel. Not really registering the heat, he allowed his mind to wander a little. His Violent Queen had looked pretty bloody… 'course, that didn't mean much, considering her methods of murder… she often came out of battle literally bathed in blood. Her clothing was pretty torn up, too… Thing was, Nema never cared much about that. He tried to think of any wounds she had endured while she was in the tunnel… None that he could really think of, except for maybe some bruises, a minor scrape here or there, and possibly a nasty bump on the head from when she'd been knocked to the ground.
And yet he was sure that the next time he saw her, which would be soon, she would still look beautiful to him, however bloody and torn she might have been… But he did still like her best when she was freshly cleaned up, her snow white hair and her equally pale skin all soft and warm. And for some reason he was extra attentive when she wore white.
… Not… for any REAL reason. Just… because.
How do you know when you really do, for sure, wanna marry that person?
I love her. That's all the reason I need.
He wasn't really sure why he had asked that question. He decided to blame Lucifer for it. But really, how do people know for sure… that the one they believe they love most is the one they ought to marry? What kind of… guidelines… were there, to something like that?
Raphael loved Barbiel and believed that was reason enough to marry her. Was it, really? Was that… all there was to it?
'Cause then… well…
No, nevermind! God damn Lucifer and his fucking mouth! Damn snake! Michael was gonna beat his fucking head in!
Marriage wasn't something he needed. It wasn't something Nema needed, either. Did he think about it? Sure…! He'd even dreamt about it. Nema was wearing one of her fancy little dresses, all white and beautiful, with a veil flowing down from a white mini-crown. And yeah… he was wearing a top hat. Only because SHE wanted him to! But it was fine, really. And it was a really nice dream and all… It's just that he didn't need it.
And then Michael wondered if ANYONE ever really NEEDED to get married, truly. He called Raphael. "Hey."
"Michael? I was thinking about your call earlier today. I swear you sounded very nervous. Are you –"
"Do people ever need to get married?"
"… What?"
"Does anyone really NEED to get married…? I mean… is it a necessity… or something?"
"… See, there you go with this marriage talk again!"
"Just answer my damn question!"
"Are you going to propose to Nema?" Raphael asked bluntly.
"NO!" Michael suddenly fumed. "I'M NOT GONNA! NEMA AND I ALREADY TALKED ABOUT THAT STUFF, ANYWAY! WE'RE NOT GETTING MARRIED!"
"… Then why are you so curious?"
"Because I CAN be!"
The Wind Angel sighed over the phone. "… Well no one ever NEEDS to get married. I'm sure people make up excuses for why they NEED to… like… financial security… or family honor… or whatever other excuses people in Assiah have made. But the truth is no one NEEDS to get married."
"THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT I THOUGHT!" Michael beamed.
"Well that's not what marriage is about, anyway. It's not about needing to. It's supposed to be about WANTING to. The only time need enters the picture is in regards to how much you NEED the person you WANT to marry."
"… It's not about needing to." The statement rolled from his mouth.
"No. I don't think so."
"… Marriage is so fucking confusing! I don't understand how anyone would WANT something that's so fucking weird!"
"It's not confusing!" Raphael had an idea. "Where do you see yourself five years from now? Ten? Twenty? And just because we happen to get away with it, where do you see yourself 100 years from now?"
"I don't know. Here?"
"With Nema?"
"That's not even a real question! Idiot! We'll always be together! Even the DUMBEST people know that!"
"… Now, do you remember how you felt when you were a Rabbit Hunter?"
"What does THAT have to do with anything?" Michael snapped.
"Do you remember?"
"… It fucking sucked. Why?"
"Was it because she wasn't near you? Was it because you were hurting her, and driving her further away at almost every turn? And did it hurt you because you needed her to be happy and near you?"
"… I guess so." Michael mumbled.
"Could you imagine if it was still like that?"
"I don't WANT to imagine that."
"Because you know that it's the worst thing that could happen. Because you need her. You love her and need her, and you want to be with her for as long as you breathe."
Michael wasn't sure what to say. After a while he muttered, "… So?"
"So that's it."
"… That's what?"
"That's the marriage ceremony. It's you and her making a public announcement that you love and need each other, and want to be together for as long as you breathe. That's it! So you see, you are as good as 'married' to Nema, anyway! So if you don't want to have a marriage ceremony, who cares? And if you do, that's fine, too. Drinks all around."
"… I'm as good as married to her, anyway…"
"I'd say you are."
"… Well… I have to go make sure Nema's okay."
"Are you going to propose to her?" Raphael tried again.
"THAT'S NOT ANY OF YOUR DAMN BUSINESS!"
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"Stop it. Raziel… I will put down my sword if you stop it."
Nema watched as the Angel before her stood before her, eyes narrowed. He leaned forward, placing his palms firmly against the wood of his desk. "… I don't trust you."
"Have I given you any reason not to trust me?" Nema drew in her breath as she felt the blade of her sword gently open up her tender skin. "If you ask me I've got the RIGHT to finish you off!"
"What have I done wrong?"
"You set me up for an attack, for one!" She snapped.
"You are going to kill me. You charged in here killing my guards, waving your sword at me!" Raziel reasoned in a low voice. "You are a theat, Miss Mudou Nemaelle!"
"YOU SET ME UP! IS THAT NOT GETTING THROUGH TO YOU?" Nema snarled at him, her sword shaking in her hand. "You tricked me. I've come here with PEACE in mind and you AMBUSH me in a tunnel! How's that for a warm welcome?" She was relieved to find that with a good struggle she could just begin to lean away from the blade. "Don't talk to me about threats and death, Raziel. After all this, I'M the one feeling threatened. And I'M the one with good reason to feel like that."
For a long time they stood, Nema in her awkward position, Raziel with his hands on his desk. "… You're a threat to the way I've run things." He murmured after a long pause. "You're throwing it all away with your war!"
"I am FINE with ending my war! … If things go my way!"
"What childish words for a war leader."
"Yeah… well Michael tells me war leaders don't wear petticoats, either."
Nema watched Raziel sigh and run his hands through his golden strands. "You're just like him. A walking bundle of trouble… And I don't even really know you!"
"I'm told I'm a very reasonable and nice girl if you don't, you know, threaten to kill me." Nema narrowed her ruby eyes. "… Have you always had hair like that?"
Raziel blinked his eyes at her. "… You know."
"That you are like me? Yes."
"… I used to be… as pale and red-eyed as you are. They… performed horrible experiments… I watched my wings change and everything."
"And I'd imagine you're thankful for it?"
"… The truth… is I would not mind looking like a Grade-A Rabbit." Raziel stood straight and assessed the damage she had taken. "You have no major wounds."
"I have a very nice bump on my head."
And Raziel found it in himself to laugh. "… You truly meant me no harm."
"I still don't… if you'd let me move my OWN body, please." And finally, Nema felt her body be released from whatever strange hold it was under, and she immediately brought her sword down. She sighed. "Now I'd like to do what I set out to do." She motioned toward him with her free hand. "Sit down. I've got a very long list of questions for you."
"Just questions?" Raziel asked as he sat in his regal-looking chair.
"And a request, but the questions will come first. Excuse me." Raziel watched Nema draw from one of her knee-high boots a cell phone, as white as her.
"You have an albino cell phone?"
"I've become abnormally proud of my albinism." Nema reasoned as she dialed a number. "Michael? Hey, where are you? … Okay. Well I'd like it if you could go back and see who's okay and who needs a trip to Raphael." A muffled yelling was heard over the phone. "I'm FINE! Our fighters are more important than I am. … Yes, I KNOW that. I never said you WEREN'T allowed to care about me more! … My head is FINE! My brain's still intact! CHILL for a moment! I found Raziel. … NO I AM NOT GOING TO KILL HIM. … NO YOU CAN'T COME KILL HIM! I WANT YOU TO GO BACK AND SEE WHAT WE CAN DO ABOUT THE MESS IN THE TUNNEL! … Michael, I don't care if the fire will burn everything to ash. … Miiiiiichael, honey, I love you so much…!" Nema suddenly cooed. "… But if you really loved me, you'd know that this talk with Raziel is very important to me, and I don't have the time to fix the mess down there. So you'd do it for me, if you really loved me. … I AM NOT A BITCH!" She switched to screaming. "You should be careful, you know. YOU are the one sleeping in MY bedroom. And I can CHANGE that." Then she laughed. "Hai. I'll call you when I'm through. … I'm a big girl, Michael. I'll escort myself back. … Yup. Love you. Bye."
Raziel motioned to the chair on the other side of the room, offering it to her with an arched brow. "… Well that's an interesting relationship you have."
Nema smiled as she moved the chair in front of the desk and promptly sat in it with her ankles neatly crossed. "It never gets dull, that's for sure."
She watched him fight the amused smile off his face. "… So, then. You said you had questions for me. Ask them."
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AUTHORESS NOTE: Well I finally brought in Raziel for you all those Raziel fans out there! XD I am aware that it took me so long, yes. For some reason I found that suitable; I'm not really sure why. But awwwww look at him! All grown up and… running Heaven! Not that Nema's necessarily happy with his methods, but in the next chapter we will hear his thoughts and motives and much, much more! So hang on tight, children! I love you!