-Chapter Four- Atsu

Another three days now. It had been three days without Flonne or Etna. But the crying didn't stop.

He found the moment they were out of sight the day they'd left, he felt so much worse… like I was all his fault for all Etna had said… HIS fault he thought he'd never see them again.

And what made him cry again, was the fact that this was true.

If he thought those fights he'd started were stressful, he had another thing coming.

He began to think more and more of his mother, his father… and it tore him in half. The amount of self-inflicted pain was greater, and he found that his own legs at one point weren't strong enough to support what little weight he was, for they trembled so fiercely. It made him fell vulnerable, and he hated it.

Now, when I say 'self inflicted', I mean not that he was cutting… or anything like that. No, I mean that he was so induced to continuously reminisce in the memories he had of his… 'Childhood' when his mother was still alive, that he became unsure of himself; more emotional.

Sure, at point, somewhere around the second day, he had maybe considered that what he did was so wrong… that he needed to be punished for it.

And yet he did nothing about it.

Lately, however, he'd been camping outside of town for two main reasons, one, he didn't want to be seen or… heard in such a condition, and two… he never knew just when the next fit may strike him. Plus, all the money he had to deal with was the Hell he stole from Etna's Prinny he'd thrown out.

That certainly was not a lot.

But this night was different. An old devil, by the simple name of Atsu had found him roaming the streets, scouring for something cheap enough to buy for a decent snack or something.

A snack was all he could afford now, without spending the Hell in one shot. And real amount of food was too much for that of which he'd taken from a mere Prinny.

Atsu had offered him a place to stay for a few nights.

He'd never seen such kindness from a devil—not to him, anyway. Most of the time, they were just after the bounty on his head… but this woman was different. She was soft-spoken, and yet still had this way of words…

Hell, he figured if she were younger, Vyers should meet her. They'd be perfect.

Laharl had agreed to stay with her for at the most, three days in any case, this day being the first. He wondered, since he'd been trying to avoid people in the first place, if this was such a wise decision.

Well… he was low on money…

He wanted to avoid people mainly because of the fact that some of his little fits came a bit randomly, and he never knew just HOW exactly they would drive him. Some were violent, where he destroyed almost anything in his way (which normally consisted of fallen rocks or boulders) or others he found that he couldn't stop himself from just flat-out crying even if his life (which at one point, he swore it did) depended on it.

Etna was right. Not only was he a wreck, but at times he caught himself making comments, supposedly directed to them, and realised a bit too late that they weren't there. This was sometimes the trigger to his violent breakdowns.

To put it all bluntly, he was alone, sad and afraid. Being alone wasn't something he was used to. There was always someone there with him… and now that it seemed to have become some kind of need for someone, he found it only natural to seek acceptance, and help form others.

Acceptance never came easy. And yet, somehow… with this devil, Atsu, he got both….

But to put thing back to where they should be and current, she'd given him a larger amount of Hell to go buy himself a decent meal.

He didn't buy anything he wanted right away, for he felt only the slightest bit of guilt for taking the old woman's Hell.

But, as anyone might have guessed for him, hunger drove him to buy the largest, cheap fruit he could find.

…which still only left him with 50H.

The fruit was very strange; it looked like an eggplant, in a way… but it was lighter in colour, and more rounded, more plum. Almost… peach-shaped, and it was not a vegetable.

From the moment he sank his fanged teeth into the fruit's fleshy sweetness, he was instantly calmed, free of any urge to yell or cry. While he ate, it gave him the warmest feeling… like when his mother used to hold him in her arms and rock him to sleep at night when…

This memory did not disturb or make him feel anything but a quiet realisation, as he held the fruit, almost amazed at what it was doing to him. Surely, if he had not been eating this thing… and he'd thought of this old feeling otherwise, he knew there would be some kind of reaction. Tears, violence?

Neither, now that he had this astonishing fruit.

After about the third or fourth bite, he gazed up at the owner of the outside stand-market. "Hey… waddya call this thing…?" he asked lightly, his eyes loosing the sharp intensity they'd held for so long, his face relaxing.

The demon smiled, or rather smirked for a moment, glancing down at him from behind his glasses. "Why… it's a Kokoro Kaori fruit."

"Kokoro…Kaori…?" Laharl repeated slowly, questioningly.

"Yes, it's famously known her for its power."

"It has a power? A fruit?" after what he'd just experienced, or rather, NOT experienced, he had no trouble believing this.

"You see, it has the power to calm and relax the person who eats it. Tell me, how do you feel right now?"

"…warm. At peace with myself."

"Do you like the way it makes you feel?"

"Mh-hm…" Laharl nodded, taking another small bite, not realising at first he'd just been asked virtually the same question twice. He savoured the sweet, gentle taste that made him feel so at ease… as if he were adrift in the mist of the sea… atop the soft mist of the clouds so towering above them. Mist… a warm, soft, gentle mist…

"That's why they can be so pricey, and so hard to find at times. Many people like that nirvana feeling you obtain while eating one. " The keeper said, scanning him quickly without his notice. "I can see you're enjoying it quite a bit. I will make a deal with you."

"Wha…?" he mumbled lazily, mouth still pressed against the fruit, in the middle of a bite.

"I have something for you." He held out a pale grey-blue flower after a moment of rummaging around behind the counter. "They call it a Harusame Flower, the flower of the Kaori fruit. For just 50H, I will give it to you as discounted and it is yours to take." NOW he was starting to sound like a salesman.

"What would I want with some stupid flower?" Laharl nearly snapped. His tone was as it usually was, and he had a surprised-annoyed look in his eyes. By now, he'd finished the fruit, and it was obvious that the effect was wearing off, and hated the idea of ever carrying another flower, whether it be white, or close to it.

He wished he had another fruit.

"Ah, please excuse my being inspecific. The Harusame Flower comes from the Kaori plant, and has the same power. It calms you down if you are angry, gives you that feeling of nirvana, and even…" he leaned over the counter and seemed to whisper in Laharl's ear as if he said this not-to-often. "Helps ease your emotions if you're crying."

This just about made him fall over, and he spun sharply to face the keeper, digging in his pockets for the remaining Hell. Before he had all of it out, he said quickly, "Deal."

"Ah, that's my boy…" the man crooned, a crooked smirk on his face, handing overt the flower in exchange for the Hell. "And you are very blessed, my friend… you see, the Harusame Flower is special, also named so because it seems to feed itself, and does not easily wilt. Even if it should, the power does not fade."

To say in the least, Laharl was very grateful and pleased with himself as he walked away from the stand, leaving the greedy man behind him to count his Hell.

He walked fitfully back to Atsu's house.

"Ah! My…!" Atsu exclaimed softly and bustled up to Laharl as he stumbled in. she greeted him sincerely, and caressed the young flower in her hands, holding it to her face. "A Harusame Flower…! How wonderful…" she gazed down at Laharl slightly then. "Did you spend the money I gave you?"

He glanced down quickly, afraid for a moment. "Yes… I did."

"Good boy," she ruffed up his hair, nearly flattening his backward forelocks, smiling cheerfully. "What else did you buy?"

"A Kokoro Kaori fruit," He chimed, a bright look in his eyes, trying his best to look cheerful as she, knowing she was pleased with him and not angry for using up all the money given to him in one shot. He certainly did not want her upset with him – he needed a place to sty. He was downright sick of camping out; alone or not.

"Ah…" she sighed sweetly, as if the one 'word' could have said it all.

"It made me feel… warm. Safe." He answered as if the sigh had been a question such as what the keeper had asked twice.

"Is that why you bought the flower too?"

"…yeah." He now wondered, a little late, whether it was right for him to be entrusting his unstable emotions with an amaranth.

"You know… my sister's name was Kaori. She was very kind, and very old." Atsu handed him the flower back, looking down at the small boy demon prince with sad, aged eyes. "They named that blessed flower after her, you know; because of the way she made others feel, whether they were demon, devil, or human– and she herself was human, I'll have you know-" she looked down again at him, roughing his hair once more as if for comfort, with a small, heartbreaking smile.

"Do you… miss her…?" Laharl mused softly, getting the point. The Harusame wasn't working for him as it should be, he thought, for a lump rose in his already tight throat. He thought of his mother, the night her…

He could almost feel the cold breeze again at his skin from that frozen waste-land the Prinnies go to… He could almost see the moon… the bright stars above him from that night…

They'd been so bright…

"Of course I miss her, Laharl… she was very dear to me, a blessed person, just like that flower you hold." Atsu whispered, as if shocked he would ask something as this.

And then she realised why.

He was looking for answers.

"What about you, Laharl? I can tell you are thinking of someone special… someone you cared very much for."

At the word 'cared' he gritted his teeth, sniffing; attempting to keep is tears down. Never had he been in such an unlucky person when it came to this. Whenever he tried not to cry, he cried. Whenever he tried to cry, he simply couldn't.

He bit down on his lip hard enough to draw blood, and the sharp pain that followed not only stung his lip, but his eyes with welling tears.

Unlucky, two-fold.

He glanced away, the slightest movement f his eyes causing the tears to fall, gripping his scarf that instinctively wrapped closer to him.

"Oh, Laharl…" Atsu purred, lifting him off his feet in one movement. "Come here…" she was much bigger than he, and was a plump old woman, whom he only came up to about her mid to. She carried him to the other room, placing him down on a tower of cushions which he'd constructed himself. He allowed himself to be moved, letting his head down and cried freely, at last knowing he would get no criticism.

Atsu seemed to be the only one he could trust now.

She brushed the stray hair from his face, letting herself down beside him. She gave him a patient look. "Don't be afraid of it, just cry if you need to." She stoked the fallen tear from his face and he simply let her. "If you're uncomfortable with it…" she pointed to the flower he held near limply in his trembling hands. "Why not give that a try…?"

He pulled it to his face, and took a moment to examine every other detail the petals held, getting it closer to his face. In the end he just gave up and held it to his nose – the flower which was virtually as big as his hands put together took over most of his face.

He felt his shoulders relax, and his breathing and throat became less tense. Stray, very slight sobs still occasionally catching in his chest, he glanced up at her, his watery eyes pleading she would understand what he would say.

And maybe help him sort it out.

"Atsu… Please hear me out. I was raised in a—" his throat closed in over his words and he swallowed, forcing himself to continue. However much of a lie it may have been. "A family where it was always wring to cry… I was taught 'demons don't feel sympathy' was the number one rule and thing to remember. If I was ever caught…" he dropped his gaze, knowing he could never stop himself from feeling as terrible as he did now for saying this, but it was his own belief of how he should have been treated. It was how he wanted to be seen as – as a demon that knew no sympathy, and saw it as weak. "My father would beat me… and tell me to never let it happen again… until I stopped… said that it was always to protect me in the end."

Protect you? She wanted to blurt. If someone is beating you to teach you a lesson of protection, there was obviously something wrong there. At this point, she caught on to what he was doing. Not only was his story too obvious, it was also clear that he hadn't exactly thought it over very rationally. Before interrupting, she decided t play along in her own little way for a while.

"From what?" she asked seriously, eyes content on his.

"Anything! He said if I cried, I wasn't strong and—"

No… any plan she had on waiting was gone now. Shot down like a cannon. "Now look here, young Laharl." She began a bit more sternly that she had intended. She lowered her voice and let her eyes settle. She lifted his chin and had him face her, meet her square in the eyes. "Strength is not how physically strong you are, and it certainly does not mean that if you cry, you are emotionally weak either. No, think of it the other way. If your heart knows when to cry… then you are strong."

"My… heart…?" he repeated. He felt his eyes well again. He hated that word.

And soon, in his own way, he would have to add another reason soon enough.

"I don't understand…"

"I know it may be a hard thing to understand now… but please, relax, dear Laharl… think of this; if Demons or Devils could not feel sympathy, do you think you'd be sitting here with me?"

"No…" he sniffed lightly, eyes feeling heavy.

"Because you were taught not to cry… does that mean you were taught not to love also?"

If her were to include it in his story… and not say it was Flonne… "No," he concluded. "No I wasn't. They didn't want me to love either."

"There, see now?" she pulled him close, into a tight embrace. "Sadness is only possible because of love."

This struck him like a wave. Had that not been almost EXACTLY what Flonne had once said? Had he kicked her out and told her to leave for something she was right about all along…?

"You know… if I hadn't have loved my sister in the first place, I could never be sad for her departure." She smiled at him, knowing he was beginning to catch on.

"Your heart controls your emotions, empathically speaking. If it allows you to cry at times of need or grief, and love when it is true, then that is strength."

Laharl glanced down at his near buried hands. "My heart is… my strength…?"

Atsu nodded, and held her hands to him. "Lend me your hand." When he did, she clasped it gently, and pressed it against her chest. "Do you feel that?"

He paused for a moment, glancing around as if the answer was floating around in the air somewhere around him. "That beating?"

"Yes,"

"I do…"

"Do you feel how faint it grows?"

"I…do…" he didn't like where this was going. As much as he would have hated to admit it, if she was going to tell him she was going to die, he wouldn't have been able to handle it very easily. If she had just told him the heart was a person's strength… if it was beating so slightly, wouldn't that mean…?
"It beats more faintly because I am near my end, and it is so full of love. You see, Laharl… you heart is like… your life gauge. "

He hoped so dearly she didn't mean…

"When I die, Laharl, it will not be due from any ailment, no, I assure you; it is just because my heart was so full, it just simply couldn't handle any more love than it already carried."

He shook his head defiantly and latched to her arm, feeling like a child. "Please don't leave…" he buried his face in her side and seemed to tense up greatly again. "Not yet…"

Atsu laughed heartily, her smile nearly eating her entire face, pulling him close, telling him it was all merely a speech to help him understand. "You see… your heart also controls fear. You are only weak if your heart is weak, and you become angry."

At last he fully understood what she meant. And now he wished she would have said this to begin with, in replacement for scaring him like that. "I see…" he nodded, loosening his grip on her. "I understand now."

"Good now. And I'm gland that beautiful young flower works for you… I hope you keep it close to your heart." She chimed, hauling herself up after a moment's hesitation. Even to him, it looked hard and painful. "Mah, in any case, dinner will be ready some time this evening, so until then, go out and play or make yourself at home."

At last someone treated him like a child. It was as if he craved this feeling… it was as if he knew he was safe in the protection, rather than being forced to fend for himself.

He jumped down from his nest of cushions, feeling quite refreshed. Maybe it was from relieving his hunger… or maybe because he finally realised his side of his story was told, and sorted out like he wanted it to be.

He smiled to himself as he watched her amble back in to the kitchen, and then began outside.

Atsu's house was simple; rectangle based, with most small bushes growing apart and away from it, but near the kitchen window, stood a mid-sized bush-like tree which peeked just above the flat roof of the house beside a fairly large sized cluster of boxes.

A quick idea flashed through his mind, and he smiled again, taking up a larger box from the collection. Cleaning this would be a snap, compared to his room when he was younger.

In moments he had all the old boxes separated and categorised in three parts; junk, valuable or to keep, and things he was unsure she wanted or not. Occasionally, he would take inside a suspicious-looking trinket that may or not have been charitable to her, and after a while realised that if it were that special, it wouldn't be in this monster of a pile.

For some odd reason, he thought stacking up all the junk boxes was a good idea, and by the time he'd reached the window of the house, he knew then a little delayed it wasn't one of his brighter ideas.

Laharl had bright ideas that actually worked?

Oh, scary…

They towered above him by well over 15 boxes, and when Atsu could no longer see from her window that lay just before her behind the sink, she heard a mighty crash.

In a panicked rush, she scurried outside, searching for the cause. Dust flew in all directions just above the ground, and there was no sight of Laharl.

Last time she saw these boxes laying in such a spread, it had been a thief looking for things to steal and sell.

"Who's there? Go on, shoo! There's nothing in there for you anymore! Your friends took all of it last time with him!"

There was a small child-like moan and she glanced down, fearing it wasn't a thief, and she jolted, pulling away a stray piece of cloth from the settling dust. "Laharl…?" she called then, waiting for another noise to penetrate from somewhere. "Laharl, where are you?"

Another muffled mummer came from nowhere it seemed, and she glanced down in time to see a few of the small boxes at the untidy bottom shudder. Some of the miniscule ones fell away and he shook beneath them, his face becoming only just visible. He wanted to burst out of them, exploding with annoyance. It showed all over his scraped face.

Atsu gasped and knelt, tearing away any box she could, shocked it really was him beneath all this mess. After more where cleared away and he could feel his arms again, she allowed him to just burn them off of him with his aura. By the time he stood again, there were only two of those murderous boxes that survived his fire.

"Laharl…!" she complained, a flustered look crossing her face. "What were you doing? You could have been squished flat!"

He glanced down, feeling his face flush. "I was trying to clean it for you," he answered modestly.

"Well… I suppose you've learned your lesson, now haven't you…?" she teased, messing up his hair.

"Yeah," he mumbled dryly, avoiding her gaze.

How embarrassing.

And yet… another sense took over almost abruptly…

"Well… anyway, thank you so much for what you've done! I've been meaning to clean this all up for ages… dinner isn't quite ready yet, so go on and enjoy yourself… without getting caught under something this time, please…?"

He just nodded, feeling something strange.

A feeling of… foreboding.