Chapter 6: A Beautiful Angel in an Ugly World
A/N: By the way, I actually have no idea if Chiaro went to school with Cesare; the manga says absolutely nothing about what happened between them meeting and Pope Innocent dying (which is really very frustrating), but I figured it made sense.
A/N 2: Sorry this chapter is kind of short; I've been really busy lately.
Cesare woke up, surprised again by the complete lack of demons surrounding him. He was actually free to pay attention to just how nice it was to be resting in someone's arms. But unfortunately, his thoughts from the night before hadn't just gone away, in spite of Chiaro comforting him.
Chiaro. People like him really ought not to have been born into this ugly world, unless it was for the purpose of helping people like Cesare. Cesare wondered if it was a mark of profound ingratitude that his actions were currently only making the world uglier. Italy might be better off united in the end, but Cesare would do a great deal of damage in order to get there. And he would use Chiaro to cause at least some of that damage.
Cesare sighed, disgusted with himself, and sat up slowly, trying not to disturb his friend. Chiaro was too good for him. The type of person who ought to be attracted to Cesare was someone like Volpe, who was as ruthless as himself. But the one Cesare loved was Chiaro, if he could really call this grasping, possessive, twisted feeling for his friend "love." But he didn't know what else to call it.
"Cesare?" Chiaro opened his eyes and blinked at him.
"Sorry," Cesare said. "I was trying not to wake you up."
"No… it's fine," Chiaro replied sleepily. "Are you okay?"
Why did he keep asking that? "Of course."
"You're feeling better, then?"
"Feeling better?" Cesare asked, pretending to be confused. Had he really cried last night?
"Yeah, last night…." Chiaro stopped, then shook his head. "Whatever." To Cesare's surprise, Chiaro hugged him around the shoulders from behind. "Why do you always act like this? I like you. You can confide in me, you know."
"I'm fine," Cesare said, pulling away a little so he could turn and look at Chiaro. "I just don't understand why someone like you would be so attached to me."
"Lots of reasons," Chiaro said. "For one thing, I'm grateful."
He said it so matter-of-factly that for a second Cesare could only stare at him. "Grateful?" he asked at last, incredulous.
Chiaro gave a laugh. "Of course. You offered me a place when I had nowhere to go. My father was dead, and I'd been living on petty theft, and then suddenly you were there, and you made me your right hand man and even became my best friend. I was happy—still am. I have to admit, I thought it was kind of funny that you thought you were punishing me by taking me prisoner."
Cesare continued to stare, now feeling just a bit miffed. "You know, my motives were utterly selfish." Still are, actually.
"So? I didn't care. You were kind to me."
Cesare looked at some point on the bedspread. "Not really."
"You talked to me. You didn't mind me following you around. You even let me go to school with you. Do you have any idea how impossible that would have been if it weren't for you? I mean, I was a peasant."
"That wasn't kindness. I wanted you around because you made the demons go away." And because I was lonely, and you'd offered to be my friend.
Chiaro smiled and shrugged a little. "I was selfish too. I was lonely. And you didn't send me away."
Cesare sighed and got up. He started to pace. "You were lonely, so you decided to become friends with a demoniac?"
Chiaro shrugged. "Have to admit, you needed a friend too."
Cesare turned and looked at him. "Don't you see that I've ruined your life? I've turned you into an assassin. You hate killing people. You're the constant companion of a megalomaniac who isn't even human. How can you possibly be grateful for that?"
"Well, I'm not keen on the killing, but I don't mind being your constant companion. I told you, I like you."
"Why?" Cesare was really desperate to know this.
Chiaro spread his hands in a gesture of defeat. "I don't know, Cesare, I'd have to think about it. What do you want me to say?"
"I don't know." Cesare gave a sigh of frustration.
He heard Chiaro's quiet sigh behind him and turned to see that Chiaro had lain back in his bed and was staring at the ceiling. "Well, sorry I don't make sense to you. It's not like I'm doing it on purpose. What's wrong with just liking you because I like you?"
Because you have no reason to, Cesare thought. And I'm a little worried you'll realize that someday. The nearest Cesare could imagine was that Chiaro's loyalty to him was like his own had been to his father, before he realized his father would never love him.
Then Cesare remembered Chiaro's father, who had been a mass murderer and a madman, locked up in a dungeon to keep him from killing people. Chiaro had been loyal to the point of absurdity. He stopped pacing, thinking about this. No, it was true. People like Chiaro really ought not to have been born into this ugly world. Cesare jumped as Chiaro's arm wrapped unexpectedly around him, drawing him into a hug. "Stop fussing," he said. "You worry too much about things, you know." He let go. "You should get dressed. We need to go have breakfast. I'll be back in a few minutes."
Cesare kept a corner of his mind open to watch Chiaro for the rest of that day. Was it his imagination, or was his friend actively seeking out his company more and more these days? And smiling more, too? In fact, it seemed like Chiaro was at his side for nearly the entire day, until around midnight when he disappeared. Cesare did run into Volpe, who was reading a political book. "Have you seen Chiaro?"
"I think he went to bed," Volpe replied, looking up briefly. "It is midnight. You should sleep too, Master Cesare."
Chiaro had gone to bed without him? Cesare sighed and rolled his eyes at his feelings as he walked away. Well, yes, of course. Chiaro was tired, so he'd gone to bed. Cesare had kept him up how late last night? And Chiaro had been going to bed by himself the entire time they'd lived together until the last two nights. It stood to reason that he would think nothing of it. And at some point, Cesare would have to get used to sleeping in spite of his demons again. After all, he could hardly expect Chiaro to sleep with him every night for the rest of his life. But in the meantime, he could get some more work done, since he didn't have Chiaro waiting on him.
He began reading up on politics in Spain and Portugal, finding himself absorbed in the subject. Before he knew it, he was already planning how he could use the information he was gaining to his advantage. Meanwhile, his demons gathered around him, making it rather difficult to breathe. Cesare pointedly ignored them.
…
Chiaro rolled over in his sleep and woke up. He looked around briefly for Cesare, then sighed and closed his eyes again. He remembered Cesare's joke about Chiaro missing him when he slept. Was this missing? Or just fussing? Because Chiaro knew he was definitely fussing. Was Cesare all right sleeping on his own? Were his demons bad tonight? Had he actually wanted Chiaro with him, but hadn't asked? Chiaro sighed. He was being silly. He would sense it if things were too bad. But even if they weren't too bad, Cesare might still want him.
Finally, Chiaro sighed and got out of bed. He'd go to Cesare's room, assure himself that his master was sleeping peacefully. If he wasn't, Chiaro would stay. Cesare wouldn't mind. He got up and checked the time. Half past two in the morning. Apparently he had caught Cesare's insomnia. He went out in the hall, walking softly to Cesare's room, then stopped when he saw the light on in the main room, and Cesare bent over a book. "What are you doing awake?" he asked from the doorway.
Cesare jumped. "Chiaro." There was a mass of demons around him.
"Yeah. What are you doing?" He went closer and shooed the demons away, pleased when he saw Cesare's posture relax.
"Studying. Spanish and Portuguese politics."
"It's almost three."
"Is it?"
"You should be in bed."
"I have things to do."
"You can do them tomorrow."
"No… I'm making… plans." Cesare's words seemed to fail as Chiaro began to stroke his hair and neck. He closed his eyes. "Don't… do that. I can't… think when you do that."
"You don't need to think. Come on." He pulled a much more compliant Cesare to his feet and put an arm around him.
"Where are we going?"
"To bed, since certain idiots seem to be incapable of going there themselves." He shook his head. "I'm beginning to wonder if I should just turn my room into some kind of library; it doesn't seem to be getting much use anymore."
He thought he saw Cesare smile, but it may have been his imagination. They went to Cesare's room and he sat on the edge of Cesare's bed, waiting for him to change, which he did remarkably quickly. This time, without any hesitation at all, he snuggled into Chiaro with a catlike smile, hugging him.
Chiaro gave a laugh. "You are so weird," he said, putting his arms around his friend. "Do you have a split personality or something?"
"Oh no, split implies two. I have a lot more than that."
"Apparently. What are you so happy about all of a sudden?"
"You," Cesare replied.
"Sleeping with you?"
Cesare shook his head. "Just you."
"I made you cry last night."
"No, you didn't."
Chiaro rolled his eyes. "That's right. You weren't crying."
"I was. But you didn't make me cry, I did."
"Oh."
"See, I have this crazy idea that I don't deserve you."
"Ah," Chiaro said, not buying the playful tone. He shook his head. "I kept waking up and expecting you to be there and worrying when you weren't."
Cesare began to shake a little with laughter. "You do miss me when you sleep."
"I guess so." He closed his eyes, rubbing Cesare's back. "You know, I really could just turn my room into a library and do this every night."
Cesare didn't respond, but his hand knotted into Chiaro's shirt. "Trouble is," he said at last, "if you do this often enough, I won't be able to sleep without you. I wasn't joking when I said I may become addicted to the feeling. Do you have any idea how good this feels?"
"I'm not planning on going anywhere, though. So I don't mind."
"Well, I'm certainly not going to say no."
Chiaro listened as Cesare's breathing became slow and even. He wondered if there was really any validity to Cesare's worry about not being able to sleep without him. As near as he could tell, Cesare had never been able to sleep very well without him. He'd often wake up at the dog watch of the night and find Cesare tangled in his sheets, tossing and turning with nightmares, or sleeping restlessly on the couch, a book or letter nearby. In the latter case, Chiaro would simply carry him to bed, always marveling at how light he was. Like some sort of strange bird. Even now, Cesare's form felt alarmingly light, and he somehow seemed to keep getting lighter. Were the demons eating him alive, so there was less and less of him all the time? Chiaro frowned and hugged Cesare a bit tighter. "Don't let them have you," he whispered. "Please don't. Don't make me lose you."