Cross Ice

by Crimrose-A-Bee

Snow Hisayuki moves to the mysterious "Lost City" of Akutetsu in search of closure for a damaging past she could never truly overcome. When she becomes faced with pure magic, friendships she feels she doesn't deserve, and the burden of her first love, she realizes just how much of her life she lost to despair. However, she soon realizes that she holds a deadly mystery of her own...

18. Chapter XVI- Abomination

Okay, well, it's late and it's shorter. What can I say. To be fair, though, I am trying to shorten all of the chapters now, because they go up to 30,000 words, and that's ridiculous. And this one ends on a good note, I think, so be ready for that.

WARNING: This chapter makes, like, a complete 180. Don't hesitate to ask any questions (if you're even still reading this). But I at least hope it clears up some confusion. ANYWAY PLEASE ENJOY HEE HEE HEE I'M SO EXCITED FOR THIS ONE.

~Crimrose

Chapter XVI

Abomination

Ikuto knew how it felt to lose something important to you. He knew that it hurt in ways that could never be rightfully described, and he knew how hopeless one felt after the realization that they could do nothing to get it back. But what felt even more horrible than that was losing something you did not even realize was precious to you in the first place. He felt such an experience on just another day in which he chose to ditch school to instead loiter around the town as he did, and perhaps even play his violin a bit in a secluded location where no nosy white-haired girls would go poking into his business.

If he should have been doing anything worthwhile that day when he wasn't at school, it would have been checking in with Easter and receiving new orders, but when the thought briefly flitted across his mind, he snorted out loud. He would rather die than go to them of his own free will to do their dirty work. This was how he found himself lazing about on a public bench, his dark coat covering the majority of his uniform so he wouldn't have to deal with any truant officers. He had ended up awfully close to Seiyo Academy, after all, as if some irresistable force had pulled him there without his consent. He grinned wryly to himself when he identified a possible cause of that source in the first place, still staring down at his pen scratching against a sheet of paper he was using to throw around ideas and notes for composing songs. He wasn't necessarily an expert at it- he was far better at playing the violin by just letting his fingers go where they may- but Easter still put pressure on him to work with Utau and create melodies for her, so he supposed he wasn't all that bad. When he wasn't doing it for that dastardly company, he really didn't mind it at all; one could say he enjoyed it, actually. Every now and again he would move his fingers as if they were really pressing down on the strings of his instrument, having the sounds memorized in his head, then would either scratch something out or write something new. The process could continue for hours, if he let it, but he usually found himself falling asleep before he got anything substantial done.

It was there, when he was minding his own business and lost in the music of his mind, that he was about to receive a very foreign and intense feeling of having something torn away from you when you didn't even realize you needed it. Yoru was sitting on the top of the bench's headrest near his head, his tail swaying languidly as he was beginning to doze, when his ears suddenly perked up and he stood in a flash of black and blue, completely alert. Ikuto looked up from his work, his hands still and his gaze bored and unfocused, and asked, "What?"

"I sense Shugo Chara," he said, his ears twitching and flattening back with the detection of sound. "Coming right this way really fast. It's weird, though. It's like they're feeling afraid..." His head cocked to the side, his expression completely lost and confused, since any sort of complex feelings were pretty much beyond him. Ikuto rolled his eyes but didn't return to his writing, waiting to see if it was something worth his attention or if he should just move from the enemy faction's school after all.

After waiting for a few moments, in which he checked his phone and saw that Keigo had texted him something about what he'd missed in class (with the full knowledge that he didn't care), Ikuto could sense them heading straight for him, as well. The Shugo Charas' presence was familiar, as well as completely terrified, and there was more than one. That could really have only meant one thing.

As he had expected, Snow Hisayuki's three Shugo Chara came rushing in from a distance at mach speed, the expressions on their faces completely distraught and almost... tragic. Yoru's pupils dilated as he watched their fast movements, then his face contorted into something unfamiliar to even Ikuto- concern. It was like he knew what they were thinking, and why they looked so panicked, which got Ikuto more alert than he'd originally been. The Shugo Chara stopped in front of them, looking strangely alone and hopeless without their bearer, and only then did Ikuto see that all three were crying, even the two that seemed slightly more standoffish. There was something horribly heartbreaking about seeing Shugo Chara cry. They were creatures made of hopes and dreams, giving life to those who needed it, and watching tears openly fall from their eyes was like watching those dreams fall apart in front of you. The fact that these particular Shugo Chara belonged to Snow Hisayuki, someone who was generally very expressive but not very emotional, seemed to move something in Ikuto's heart made of stone that he figured was unease.

"It's... Snow..." The black-haired one, Vivian, gasped, her voice ravaged by sobs. "She needs... help..."

"Why not ask your Guardians?" Yoru demanded, reading Ikuto's mind and speaking for him as he tended to. "We're your enemies, you know. Typically you don't ask enemies for help."

"You're the closest right now!" The scantily clas girl with red hair was the opposite of Vivian, more furious and screaming than distraught and sobbing. "She needs help right now!"

Ikuto had figured that Snow had gotten the impression from him that he was not very kind or helpful by nature. The fact that she had told her Shugo Chara to go ask him for help meant that he must have been giving her the wrong impression. Just because he would lend her a hand every now and again did not mean that he wanted to assist her whenever she needed it; he mostly did it out of boredom or curiosity. By no means was he willing to move from his spot just to help her with whatever she needed. He looked away from their Shugo Chara, leaving Yoru to handle it and send them away. "We're not your slaves," his Shugo Chara said to hers with a scoff. "Buzz off."

"You don't understand!" The one with pigtails was clearly the most upset, judging from her completely red face and snot dribbling from her nose and tears from her eyes. "We would never ask if it wasn't necessary! Snow's dying!"

Now that got his attention.

Ikuto looked at them, his brows drawing downwards in disbelief. Yoru actually snorted. "Dying? Talk about exaggerating. I'm pretty sure there's no reason why she'd be dying; she was fine last night."

"She was stabbed!" Lilith was clawing her hair out, her golden eyes the embers of a roaring fire. "She was stabbed in the fucking kidney and now she's bleeding out and she's going to asphyxiate if we don't get her help soon!"

Ikuto had been convinced that they were perhaps messing with him, seeing if he actually cared for their bearer or not, or perhaps just being overimaginative. But after Lilith had said that, his heartbeat astonishingly began to quicken. A freezing, writhing sense of dread began to worm its way through his gut, even though he still wasn't positive if they were telling the truth. Why would Snow, of all people, get stabbed? It seemed so completely ridiculous and beyond normal that he told himself they weren't telling the truth, but Yoru had different ideas.

He actually looked panicked. Ikuto could see the whites all around his eyes, and his face was significantly paler than usual. Shugo Chara had a strange sense of each other; they could feel each other's presence, emotions, and sometimes were even able to tell if they were being truthful or not. Judging from Yoru's change in countenance, they were indeed telling the truth, and Snow Hisayuki was bleeding out somewhere and drowning in her own blood. A tingling numbness settled itself over Ikuto, and he found himself picturing the girl in question lying on the hard ground, her bright, predatory gaze blank and devoid of life, bright red blood staining her pure white hair and skin. It was a terrifying image, one so normally unimaginable that he was standing before he knew it, staring at where the three Chara who were rapidly losing their bearer just came from. It was the back of Seiyo Academy, sealed off by its wrought iron gate, and boasting a small forest of dead trees that were clastrophobically close to each other.

"Hurry!" All three of them urged at the same time, and he didn't even look at them as he got up and Character Changed with Yoru. In one smooth motion, he leapt over the gate and landed on a secure tree branch, then proceeded to hop from branch to branch, scanning the ground cushioned with dead leaves and hopefully not a dead girl. He continued to look even as snow itself began to fall from the sky, quickly covering the ground and the branches above him. He knew that would make it even more difficult to find Snow; with her Albino appearance, she almost looked like the weather condition personified, practically camouflaged in the landscape. But then he saw her Shugo Chara sweep down to the ground with cries of something horrible, something that reminded him of the people in some of the movies he'd seen who'd just been told they themselves didn't have much longer to live. He figured that they'd found her within the mass of white, and when he glanced down, he saw a shape of black lying flat on the ground with a little splotch of red beside it and felt so stunned he nearly fell from his perch.

Gracefully he landed, and was in no hurry to get to the actual scene of the crime. It was like he was in some sort of nightmare; he'd never been in the best of situations, and he'd seen people get hurt all the time, but seeing a dying girl was a completely different story. The very thought of death was actually so abstract to him, so obscure that he never really dwelled much on it. He knew that he was living as if he were already dead- he'd known that for years by then. But when he saw her, it was like he was staring God straight in the eyes. Or even the Devil himself.

Ikuto had been right when he had assumed that Snow would blend in with the precipitation covering the ground; her hair was pretty much lost in it, and her skin was possibly only a shade lighter with a slight gray hue. She was lying on her back, her eyes staring straight up and ahead, looking but not seeing. Clumps of snowflakes stuck in her lashes and she didn't blink them away, but it looked like her eyes were slowly closing. There was a deep rumbling somewhere in her throat, and judging from the line of red trickling from her mouth, she already was beginning to choke on her own blood. When he looked down, he saw a beautifully polished butter knife sticking out from the side of her stomach. The blazer she wore was stained dark, and when he reached out to touch it dazedly, his fingers came off damp and red. He let out what could have been a startled laugh, and a puff of air erupted from his mouth. Only then did he realize how cold he was, and how Snow's lips should have been blue or chapped or something, but she didn't look any different than how she usually did besides the pallid complexion and lifeless gaze. In a strange sort of way, Ikuto thought that she actually looked beautiful. Like a doll with an eerie paint job.

Though it was pretty obvious, he'd never been confronted with a stabbing victim before. Just the previous night he'd been cut with a knife in a burst of spontaneity from one of those greased-up thugs harassing those girls, but it was a quick, burning slash. This was deeply lodged in Snow's body, and he knew he had to pull it out, but he also knew it would hurt her- unbearably so. Was she even still there to feel the pain? He looked at her eyes again to find her looking at him, and it was so strange to see her eyes without any sort of light in them. They looked painted on. She was staring at him, and he found himself staring straight back without hearing the pleas and cries of her Shugo Chara. He thought she could see him, and he had no idea what to do about it. Did he say something to her? Did he tell her he was there for her? He still felt like the situation was so entirely surreal, like he wasn't even really there. And saying things like that didn't seem like him at all. But maybe that was the point. If he said something cheesy like that, maybe she'd sit up and laugh at him for acting like such a weirdo. Then the light would shine in her eyes again and she'd make fun of him for believing her ridiculous prank.

But none of that happened. Instead she stared at him, and almost seemed to smile the tiniest, saddest smile. He watched her full, pink lips move in slow motion, and softly heard her whisper, "Daddy" before her eyes closed slowly and her head lolled to the side, deadweight. Instantly after that his hand was clutching the handle of the knife and he tore it out, and didn't feel a damn thing when she convulsed and made a gagging noise, more blood bubbling up from her mouth as she spat it out.

"Snow," her Shugo Chara sobbed, and they all moved closer to her face to hold it as her mouth slackened so that the tips of her front teeth showed. Still he didn't feel anything. He looked at his hands to find them red and chapped, one still clutching the knife that had just been lodged in her side. He tossed it away and quickly looked to her wound only to get an even bigger shock than the fact that she'd gotten stabbed in the first place.

He was watching her pale skin weave itself back together as the wound closed up almost immediately, leaving a puckered pink scar to accompany some others that were more faded and white. Soon after he heard her moaning, and she rolled her head to the other side, her eyebrows bunched up in irritation. A warm feeling spread throughout his body, making him even more acutely aware that he was freezing, but he didn't care. He was too relieved not to be stuck with a dead body. He didn't believe that he'd saved her; all he did was pull the knife out, then she basically saved herself. He also didn't care enough about her wound healing almost instantly to think about it too much. All he did was put one arm beneath her head and his other beneath the backs of her knees, and swooped her up as if he was cradling a newborn child.

Though he would never admit it, he never held any girl as close as he did Snow. On numerous occasions he had her in his arms, be it by accident or not. And every time felt... strange. It was like when Utau hugged him sometimes, but then not like it at all. He supposed that, if he'd been deprived of anything throughout life, it was human contact, and that was his choice. But he didn't mind it when he held Snow, or when she touched him, especially since it seemed to embarrass her so much all the blood would rush to her face, giving life to her deathly pale cheeks. When he actually thought of how close she'd been to never having the blood rush to her face again, of him never seeing her smile or yell at him or make ridiculous expressions to play something off, he dug his fingers into her legs. She turned her head into his chest and breathed deeply, sounding like she had just been sleeping instead of one the brink of death, and he closed his eyes, not sure what he was feeling but not liking it at all. It was warm and buzzing and unfamiliar, and something he knew he didn't need. He wanted to get rid of the feeling just as he did the girl in his arms, so he quickly set off for Seiyo Academy, intent on taking her to the nurse's office without anyone noticing.

"Who did it?" He asked quietly, the first he'd really spoken since he'd seen her Shugo Chara.

They looked surprised to hear him speak. The all exchanged a glance, their eyebrows drawing down and the tears on their faces drying. It was Vivian who answered, her voice completely flat. "It was Easter."

Ikuto stopped dead in his tracks, causing Snow to snort a little in her sleep. He looked at her Shugo Chara, his face carefully blank and bangs falling into his eyes. "How do you know?"

The one with pigtails sniffled lightly, taking a deep breath and constantly glancing at her bearer as if to confirm she was really there. "The Guardians assigned her to snoop around Mayosu today to try and get more information on you and Utau-san. I suppose an Easter employee was nearby and caught sight of her, then followed her back to the Royal Garden and stole a knife. He cornered her out here and stabbed her." She shook her head, completely dismayed. "I knew you were serious about fighting the Guardians for the Embryo, but I never thought you guys would be willing to kill someone for it."

Neither did he. The whole situation didn't make much sense. He knew that Easter employees were always keeping an eye on him and Utau, even at school, so it made sense they'd be around to see Snow. But to follow her, and then stab her? That seemed a bit extreme, even for the Boss. However, Ikuto was too distracted by another thought to work out the mechanics of it. And that was that Snow almost dying was his fault, because he wasn't careful enough, because he didn't push her away enough.

As Ikuto kept walking forward towards the academy, Lilith, Vivian, and Satsuki exchanged a guilty glance. They almost felt bad for lying to Ikuto, especially after he'd come to save their bearear from what could have been a very dangerous situation. But they knew she wasn't going to die. Any normal human would have, and Ikuto had seen from the incredible rate she healed at that such was not the case. They'd chosen him instead of the Guardians on purpose, because Snow was getting too close to him, because she was starting to like him too much. He would have hurt her, intentionally or not, and she didn't need to be close to anyone ever again. Because more than anyone would have ever hurt Snow, she would have hurt them, completely without meaning to. Lilith, Vivian, and Satsuki knew that all too well, so they were going to get rid of anyone who she could potentially damage before it happened, which would only further decay at her humanity.

Snow really was better off being alone. Besides, even if she did lose everyone important to her, she'd still have them. However, as they watched the way she called out for her father when she was convinced she was on the brink of death, and as she looked so at ease in Ikuto's arms, they had to wonder if they were already too late to save her.

---

Imagine my surprise when I woke up.

All I could remember was pain, and quite a bit of it. The throbbing sensation in my stomach had suddenly given way to a stinging and burning beyond compare, but even that quickly managed to fade away. As I slowly became more aware of my body, as if rousing from a long, comfortable sleep, I knew that such shouldn't be possible. I shouldn't be feeling anything- that was what being dead meant. But lo and behold, gradually I became more aware that I was actually waking up from a deep sleep, and I could feel uncomfortable, scratchy sheets around me, a hard cot beneath me, and a cold light pressing on my lids. Heavy as they were, I dragged them open in an achingly slow motion, to find that I was in a room of all white. I would have assumed that perhaps it was Heaven, but it smelled too much like sanitizer and antiseptic, and I doubted I would have still felt the pain that pressed on my side, like someone continuously poured scalding coffee on it. The light I saw was only the bright gray sky shining in from the window, the kind of sky you only saw when it was snowing outside. Judging from the gentle little white dots floating from the sky, that was indeed the case. With an excruciating amount of effort, I struggled into a sitting position to stare out the window, in direct view of the Royal Garden and its roof quickly becoming covered in a sheet of white, and the dead forest beyond, where I should have been lying down, not breathing and not moving. I actually snorted to myself when I thought of the name Snow White, thinking that would have been me if I'd remained there, rapidly covered in a pile of snow where I would have been trapped forever. Maybe I was exaggerating, but that was certainly what I felt like.

Normally, I would have dismissed everything that had happened as a dream, but the pain in my side wouldn't allow me to do so. I'd really been stabbed by some demon-snake-shapeshifter-thing, and I thought I'd been dying for sure. But there I sat, in the uncomfortable cot in the nurse's office at Seiyo Academy, judging from the medicine cabinets, the other beds, and the shell of curtains closed around me. Though they felt heavy and aching, as if I'd been running very fast and very hard for a long time, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and went to stand at the window, observing the students huddling further into their coats as they vacated the grounds, some even holding their bags above their heads to guard against the snow. A poor imitation of a snowball fight had broken out near the Royal Garden, which I could spot Kukai-kun's fiery head from even from a distance. I suddenly felt very ill as I looked at him, thinking of how close I'd been to never seeing him or any of the Guardians again.

It still didn't feel real. The fact that I'd been stabbed, or that demons existed. But I knew that it was. I looked at my reflection in the window to see how empty my eyes looked, how no light around me could reach them. Ever since I'd moved to this city, life just seemed to stop making sense. When I realized I'd had encounters with demons on more than one occasion- Isabelle, the girl with bite marks on her neck, and the weird little imp things that kidnapped me- I knew that everything was true. Mysteries still littered my mind and made it a mess, but I was too "in the moment" to really focus on them. I'd just been knocking at Death's door, then I'd been turned away. I was so incredibly lucky- at least, that's how I should have felt. Normal people would have been grateful for their lives, would have considered it a miracle. But the fact that I had survived, no worse for the wear aside from a dull ache in my side and a new scar, just reinforced the fact that I wasn't normal. And if I wasn't normal, then what was I?

I felt closer to crying than I had in years, because I had a very vague idea of what the answer to that question was. And I hated myself for it. I hated the world for proving my worst fears to be real- that I was nothing more than a monster in human skin, just as Isabelle was.

Almost like I was underwater, I heard garbled voice in the distance, not really present in the situation around me. I thought I heard someone say my last name in a polite way, but didn't turn from the window. I just stared at the snow falling from the sky, thinking of how I should have been dead at that moment. I only snapped out of my trance when I felt a warm touch on my shoulder, something I didn't know if I'd ever get used to, and I whirled around to find Tadase-kun standing behind me, his eyes filled with kindness and concern.

"Hisayuki-san," he repeated, his voice overflowing with relief. His free hand found my other shoulder, and suddenly I was being pulled into a hug, something so strange and unfamiliar I wasn't sure what to do about it. His nose was right on my head, breathing on it and ruffling my hair, and his touch was so gentle, like he was holding something made of glass that would break at any moment. Just as I was debating on whether or not I should do something like pat him on the back, he was gently pushing me away at arm's length, staring at my face like he could puzzle out what I was thinking. "Are you alright? You gave us quite a scare."

It occurred to me than that I had no idea how I'd gotten to the nurse's office. What did the Guardians know? Would Kukai-kun still be having a snowball fight like that if he knew I'd nearly died? I shook my head, thinking that it was selfish of me to only be concerned about how people reacted to something like that. I wasn't a huge part in their lives; at best, I was someone they worked with and saw often enough to claim that they knew. So I dredged up a smile to flash at Tadase-kun, although I knew it didn't quite reach my eyes. "I'm okay, thanks. Just, uh, a bit confused. I don't really remember what happened."

Suddenly his hands slipped from my shoulders, leaving them scarce and feeling strangely solitary. I felt tempted to reach up and grab them myself to try and bring that feeling back, the feeling of someone else's touch finally stirring warmth into me, but I didn't want him to know just how sad of a person I was. Instead I focused on Nadeshiko-san, who had just entered my curtained-off area and grabbed my hand comfortingly with her ever-graceful smile. She looked so openly happy that I was awake and talking that I unconciously moved my hand to cover hers, and obscurely found it to be quite oddly shaped for a girl- it was large and even a bit rough, like a guy's. But I didn't really have time to dwell on it, since Tadase-kun was grinding his teeth a bit in irritation and elaborating on the story they'd somehow uncovered.

"After you ran off," he began, leaning against the windowsill beside me, "we stayed behind, because we didn't know if you'd want us to follow. Next thing we know, Ikuto Tsukiyomi comes out of the woods with you in his arms, and he told us you slipped and hit your head."

Somehow I wasn't very surprised that Ikuto had been part of the whole situation. Whenever things seemed to be going downhill, there he was, as if he actually was a black cat that brought bad luck. Briefly my mind flickered back to the postcard the headmaster had sent me with my uniform: Beware of black cats. I snorted, then got to thinking: why would he have written that out of nowhere? It seemed like a strange thing to just write on a letter to a stranger. Then again, he must have known about the Guardians and all of the other duties they performed. How much did he really know? About them and about me?

Something was bothering me more than that, however. After she'd stabbed me, Isabelle had completely vanished. Where had she run off to? Before I could stop myself, I asked them, "Do you know where Isabelle went?"

Tadase-kun and Nadeshiko-san's eyebrows creased, then they exchanged a glance. Finally, the King looked back to me and asked, "Who's Isabelle?"

I supposed I shouldn't have been surprised. But I still had to turn away from them so they couldn't see the way my expression contorted into one of rage and murderous intent. I was certain everything had happened- how could I not be? So how could they just forget about Isabelle and everything she'd done? She must have done something to them while I wasn't around. Messed with their heads or something shifty and demonic. So long as they weren't hurt, there wasn't a lot I could say, but did she have to go out of her way to make me come off as certifiable to the only people I considered to be my friends? It was like she did it intentionally to push them away from me. As I thought that, I caught sight of my Shugo Chara just fluttering in through the curtains in the window's reflection, and saw the way they avoided looking at me with guilt-ridden gazes. I knew that look- I'd seen them do it many times when they were lying, or withholding information from me. So I had to wonder: what had they done this time?

Why were they making it so difficult to trust them, and myself?

Nadeshiko-san and Tadase-kun left shortly after that, wishing me well and saying that I should take the day off of work (which I knew I couldn't do, lest Mrs. Garrett unleash her talons on me). They didn't know the truth about what had happened- they only knew what Ikuto had told them, that I'd fallen and gotten a small concussion. However, there was something about that story that didn't quite sit right with me. If Ikuto had been the one to find me in the woods, had he seen what had actually happened? That there had been a knife protruding from my stomach and blood staining my clothes? I'd somehow ended up wearing a different shirt- the blouse from my school uniform I'd worn to classes earlier that day. That must have meant that Ikuto found me, bleeding out into the snow, pulled the knife out, and brought me to the Guardians. How had my shirt been changed? I knew that wasn't really what I should have been focusing on at that moment, but it still disturbed me slightly to think that Ikuto had actually changed me out of my bloody clothes. I didn't doubt it for a second.

Nonetheless, Ikuto had saved me yet again. I vaguely recalled feeling the pain of having the knife torn from my side, then the warmth of another body close by- that must have been him. Knowing all of that, why did he lie to the Guardians about what he'd seen? Nothing about the situation was making a lick of sense. I found myself collapsing back onto the hard cot, forgetting that the mattress would not bounce at all and hitting it painfully, throwing my arms over my eyes as if I could shield myself from the world. But I knew that the stabbing incident was only the beginning. I got that ominous feeling in the pit of my stomach that things were only going to get worse, and that nothing would be the same ever again. That feeling was confirmed when I heard yet another pair of footsteps enter the nurse's office, and saw a shadow standing outside of my little quarantined area. The shadow was too tall to be any of the guardians, and too young-looking to be any of our teachers.

Throwing out a pretty good estimate of who it was, I asked out loud, "Did you change my shirt?"

"Nope," Ikuto responded, brushing the heavy canvas aside like it was no more than an irritating tree branch. "As much as I would've liked to, your Shugo Chara managed to handle it." Then he grinned, though it wasn't the sardonic one I was used to seeing; this was just a thin stretch of his mouth that didn't transform his face at all. His blue eyes were dark as midnight and flat as calm waters, taking everything in but giving nothing away. "I did help with the buttons, though."

I cringed away from him. "That's gross. Why would you even say that?"

"You asked," he responded with a half-hearted shrug. "And besides, would you rather me have told your little friends the truth? Left you in those bloody clothes for them to just wildly guess what had happened and start accusing me of things I didn't do?"

He had a point. If my clothes hadn't been changed and he'd carried me in with blood dripping from my shirt, the Guardians probably would have assumed that he was the one who had hurt me. Despite him being my enemy, I was confident that he'd never do something like that, and I didn't want anyone- even my friends- accusing him of it. He'd probably had enough of being made out to be the bad guy. So instead of grumbling about him possibly seeing my undergarments and even my scars, I just grumbled out, "Thanks. You saved me again."

"Don't mention it." He was silent for a moment, then he sighed deeply, a tone of irritation boiling just beneath the surface. "Seriously, don't. It was just a coincidence I was there, and I don't want you thinking I'm your knight in shining armour or something."

The image actually had me grinning. Ikuto all decked-out in chainmail and riding on top of a noble steed was so completely radical that I even laughed a bit. "Heaven forbid. Don't worry, I know your heart's made of stone and that you'd never help out a stabbing victim if you could help it."

"I know you're being sarcastic, but since you're recuperating-" he said it like it was amsuing- "I'll let it slide." I wondered how he would have responded if he didn't care that I was injured, what he would have done or said to make me quit being sassy. Then I realized thinking about it was kind of suggestive as well as a bit masochistic, and I made a face at myself while blushing furiously. While I was ashamed and embarrassed, I had to admit that it was nice to talk with him like that. It made me feel like things were normal again, like the way Ikuto and I were with each other would always stay the same. I didn't fully understand what our relationship even was- brutal enemies? Sort-of friends?- but it brought me comfort all the same. Every encounter we had made me blush somehow, and while that was horribly mortifying, it was also a good reminder that there was still blood running through my veins, that I was still human in some small way. I supposed I was grateful to Ikuto for that, though I could never say it out loud.

I brought myself to a sitting position again on the cot, with my legs dangling over the side. I was only wearing half-socks on my feet from the heels I'd been running around in, and I felt strangely underdressed for school, despite only having attended a public one in New Orleans. I discovered that I was actually feeling a bit self-concious like that around Ikuto, but then decided that was ridiculous. He'd seen me in my pajamas before, and also when I was Character Transformed with Lilith- which was no better than just traipsing around in a bikini. Nevertheless, I was still unable to meet his gaze, looking out the window again and just appreciating his presence in the room. I knew I had to say something- it felt really awkward if I didn't- but I had no idea what. We'd rarely ever just gotten a chance to talk like two average teenagers, without some sort of danger or tension looming over our heads. If there was anything I wanted to talk about, it was him; I wanted to know more about him. Like his favourite colour, or music, or food, or mundane things like that. But before I could unceremoniously stumble through any sort of conversation starter, I heard his footsteps coming toward me, and suddenly I was staring at his torso clad in his black and blue uniform.

Before I could look up at him, like any normal person would have done, to question what he thought he was doing (or to tell him to go away, depending), I was being crushed to his chest, his arms two secure bands around my back. Moments before I'd been hugged by Tadase-kun, and he'd held me so carefully, the same way a parent would their newborn child. The way Ikuto was hugging me then was identical, yet so completely different. It was the kind of hug that got your heart thundering and made your mind go blank, his warmth seeping into me like some sort of reassurance. I'd always thought of him as lanky, some kind of skinny, shit-disturbing teenager, but when he was so close and I could feel how strong his arms were, see how large his back was, I didn't know what to think. If anything was on my mind at all, it was that he was a damned good hugger, with his hands splayed open on my back and making me feel completely secure. Though the same predicament I had with Tadase-kun was there- what was I supposed to do? The compulsion to pull him closer was there, for sure, but before I could think of anyting else to do, his lips grazed my ear and I almsot yelped.

"Sorry," he whispered, his warm breath making me shiver. By the time I realized he had apologized for no real reason, he was already gone, and I had a faint idea how from the open window and the curtains blowing in the winter wind.

I was left staring out the window yet again, wondering if I'd actually just imagined what had happened. But the pressure of his touch on my back still lingered, buzzing as if he'd electrocuted me. For the nth time, I wondered what could possibly be going through his head. But something told me I'd never know. Maybe it was the empty room and the open window that gave a sense of finality. Maybe it was the way my Shugo Chara still avoided my gaze. Maybe it was because of the way he said "sorry" sounded more like "goodbye". Regardless, I still found myself staring at my empty hands, filled with the weight of regret and certainty. Whatever had just happened- the stabbing, the lying, the Guardians, the embrace- was the end of something. I knew I'd made a mistake somewhere along the line, but couldn't figure out what. All I knew was that I should have said something. I should have hugged someone back, to show that I did have a smidgen of empathy and the capability of love within me. But I didn't. And that was the proof the universe seemed to need to push me over the edge, to send me into the abyss of the truth where I could never crawl out from again.

Nothing about me was human. Not my body. Not my powers. Not my emotions. I put my head in my hands, making strange choking noises, as close to sobbing as I'd ever get. Even though my Shugo Chara were by my side, I knew I was alone.

---

The phrase "things that go bump in the night" was all that ran through my head as I heard a crash from somewhere in my apartment and my eyes flew open in panic.

Naturally, the first ideas of what it could be that flew through me mind were not that of robbers or rapists or anything like that. Oh no, it was of vampires, of demons, of things that I knew with a grim kind of certainty wanted to hurt me. I knew I should have went straight for my cell phone, to call the police and tell them I'd heard something even if it was just my imagination, or to even get out of bed and confront whatever it was. But I was frozen with fear beneath my covers, my eyes wide and obviously awake. The girls had been awoken as well, and did not say a word; they sat stock-still in their little beds, looking afraid but sure. What was there for them to be sure of? Why weren't they more panicked?

I got my answer when I heard heavy footsteps heading for my room. They weren't the kind of quick, jerky footsteps of mundane criminals: they sounded like they were striding towards my door, or even swaggering. I was biting down on my lip so hard I could taste blood, staring at the door like it itself was the monster. I prayed, to every god that was out there, that it was just a nightmare. That the footsteps were someone coming into the apartments late, or the floor itself creaking with age despite obviously being new and pristine. I was convinced that there was absolutely no God when I heard a second pair of footsteps, these lighter than the first, and clicking on the floor like the creep wore heels. Did that mean it was a woman? A man who wore really fancy shoes? The childish, irrational part of me thought that maybe, if I squeezed my eyes shut tightly enough, I'd actually wake up from whatever Hell that was to find myself completely alone, with no evildoers in my apartment. That was just what I did, and they shut so tightly that bright spots began blooming on my lids, my limbs ached from being clenched in fear, and my lips were dry and scratchy. I remained that way for a long time, absolutely still and silent. To my shock, the footsteps stopped. Everything got an eerie quiet to it, like it had all been a dream. My tightened chest seemed to relax in relief, and I opened my eyes.

A black and white, grinning jester's mask was right in front of my face, framed by hair as long and dark as running ink, and it said, "Boo."

Despite bolting upright and scrambling against the wall, it clamped a hand as white as the moon over my mouth to keep me from screaming. It was on my bed, leaning towards me and the mattress dipping towards its weight, and I was squeaking incoherently beneath its palm. My mind was racing, so utterly panicked and afraid that I could make no sense of what was happening around me. Beneath the mask I could see two eyes staring at me, crinkling at the corners as if it was smiling, and with a colour so bright I could barely identify what it was. There was one thing I could clearly define, though: around its black pupil was an icy blue ring, glaring at me as if I was staring into my own reflection.

"Don't make this more difficult than it needs to be," it said, and judging from the deep pitch of its voice, it was male. But there was something about its voice, something garbled and deep as if it was speaking from its throat, that set off alarm bells in my head (well, more than what was going off to being with). All I really knew of monsters and the like was from movies, and it had a voice identical to the one of the child's from The Exorcist. With that in mind, I was given no comfort in figuring out that I'd been right to assume that this was no ordinary human criminal.

I'd been scared plenty of times before in my life, but I seemed to get a rush of adrenaline immediately after, as if to prevent myself from actually feeling afraid and losing my will to do anything. That self-defense mechanism was completely gone now. The kind of fear I was experiencing was the bone chilling, blood freezing kind, in which I felt like I was staring Death in the face for the second time that day. I lost the strength to speak and fell into a shell-shocked silence, and soon the man took his hand away from my mouth and instead used it to grip my chin between his forefinger and thumb, as Isabelle had done earlier that day.

"Thirteen years I've waited for this," he growled, and my mind seemed to begin working, the gears turning in it slowly like a clock that had been oiled up after years of being still. Who was this man, and why had he broken into my room? He seemed eerily familiar, and the jester's mask laughing at me was definitely something I remembered. My eyes slid beyond his large shoulder obstructing my view to see that yes, he did have a companion, one that was much shorter and smaller than he but with the same pitch black hair and smiling mask. Their eyes were burning red roses glaring out from the holes in the mask, only it looked as if the pupils were that colour and the rest of their eyes were just pits of darkness. The pair of them were dressed in all black, as was standard for burglars and whatnot, which only further accentuated their ghastly pale hands. I kept glancing between the two of them while simultaneously trying to calm myself down and think about the situation, and I felt with such certainty that I knew them from somewhere. But then what the man had said finally registered into my yawning hole of a mind and my heart rate skyrocketed. I thought I might actually have a stroke.

This was no random crime. He had just said he'd waited thirteen years for this, whatever "this" was. That was the moment I began to truly understand the word "doom". My fate was smiling at me, its hand gripping my chin, holding secrets I would never get to know. This man must have known me from somewhere, and I must have given him some reason to stage whatever attack this was. Only I could think of absolutely nothing I could have done to warrant a break-in by two clearly inhuman strangers, and I still had no idea who they were to try and remember. What made the situation worse was how still and silent my Shugo Chara were in their bed, staring at me with eyes filled with regret and foreign acceptance. It hit me that they knew exactly what was going on, that this crime was completely premeditated, and they refused to even tell me that. You'd think I had the right to know of my own demise, of some creep who has allegedly known me for thirteen years and been planning to do something horrible.

Then something truly bizarre happened. While my gaze was trained on the girls, reflecting all the betrayal and heartbreak I felt, the man's hand stopped clenching painfully at my chin. Instead he used it to caress the side of my face with a gentleness I'd never felt before, which I flinched away from, feeling physically disgusted and terrified. He then leaned his head on my shoulder, apparently absolutely confident that there was no way I was escaping him, and said, "Finally you can understand. I've waited for you for so long." His head lifted, and when he looked at me, his eyes were no longer as bright as twin suns- they were green as shamrocks, the blue ring identical to mine making them appear more aqua. In those eyes was an emotion that hadn't been directed at me for thirteen years- love. I had a weird, out-of-body moment where I felt as though I was watching myself stare at the man in cryptic wonder, and was only pulled back by the ballooning feeling in my chest that came from looking in those eyes for too long.

"The night is tragically short," his partner said, much closer than they'd previously been. Their voice was high-pitched and hissing, like the feedback from a microphone. "We do not have much time before dawn breaks."

"You don't need to remind me," the man snapped, the adoring look in his eyes replaced with open frustration. "I've been in this world far longer than you." Ignorant of my struggle to process what that meant, he turned back to me again with an almost pleading look in his eyes. "The sunlight is cruel to us. You understand why we must rush this, don't you? You hate the sun, as well." I slowly began to shake my head to say that no, I didn't mind the sun all that much besides the beating of heat it rained, when he used the very same fingers that had been gripping my chin to flick my forehead. "Don't lie. When you're made of ice and snow, the sun's your worst enemy."

While that left me reeling and left the panic to seep in all over again, he bolted up from my bed, grabbed me by my waist as if I was three years old, then chucked me over his shoulder so quickly my stomach hit it painfully and I let out a grunt. With the same swagger he'd entered my apartment with, he moved towards the balcony doors, which I'd sworn I'd locked (with what turned out to be completely justifiable paranoia) and slid one open easily. My head was still reeling from being swung in the air then having the breath knocked out of me, leaving me floundering for a reason why we'd be outside, but then it hit me so hard I ended up squirming against his shoulder and desperately trying to launch myself off of it and onto the floor. The city was almost completely noiseless at that time of night, save for the occasional misplaced honk of a car's horn or the swooshing of tires, and the only pinnacles of life seemed to be the three of us standing on the balcony, with my Shugo Chara floating close by. A swift breeze gusted through the area, lifting up the hem of my nightgown and making me struggle even more, though I was positive that was a dumb idea. The man didn't even notice or care, and nonchalantly swung his leg over the concrete barrier that was all that separated us from the twenty story drop. My breath began to come out ragged and panicked, my heart pounding so hard I was absolutely certain he could feel it through his back.

"Please," I whimpered, not really knowing what I was begging for, but positive that he was going to jump and the only one to suffer would be me. "Don't do- just don't-

This only made him laugh. "Don't be worried. If I wanted you dead, you'd be long dead by now." I felt his head turn against my side to gaze down at me through the mask, unable to see what was going on due to my head hanging down and hitting his leg with every move he made. "As a matter of fact, you'd have died thirteen years ago instead of your father."

My blood stopped flowing. I turned to stone. The world stopped spinning. Everything seemed to freeze in time, as if the ice inside of me leaked out and poisoned the world around it. I didn't even register that there was nothing between us and the space of free fall outside of the barrier, and that his legs were getting ready to pounce. A voice reverberated in my head, one that used to haunt my nightmares, the one I'd come to this city to hear again: "You took him from me," my mother had said the day I'd come home for the last time. When put together with what the man had just stated as if we were discussing the colour of violets, something had happened thirteen years ago- I'd always known that. But whatever event had taken place had somehow exchanged my life for my father's.

If I trusted this man's word- which might not have been a very smart idea, given the situation- I then had total confirmation that my father hadn't disappeared. He hadn't abandoned me to the claws of resentment my mother had sunk into me when left alone. He had died. My dad was dead, and had been for a very long time. The idea had run through my head more than once, but with the knowledge that it was true, it wasn't real.

As the man leapt from the balcony and my stomach utterly disappeared from beneath me, my hair flowing freely through the wind like wisps of snow and the ground rapidly rushing up to meet us, I couldn't think of how death was staring me in the face for the second time that day, or how my Shugo Chara were just running with it, or how his companion's laughter echoed all around us as she fell gracefully and joyously. All that ran through my mind were distorted images, contorted by time and clouded by all of my misplaced feelings of rejection, of being betrayed. My father smiling at me, as he did every day, even when it was clear that he was upset. My identical face staring at his reflection in the mirror as he cut his hermit, elbow-length hair with cheap scissors, and how the pieces had fallen so gracefully into our bathroom sink like an angel's feathers. When I'd climbed a tree with him the first time, when I was only three, and how Mom had been playfully angry to see the two of us hanging in it together despite the recklessness of the act and my age. He'd read me all the fairy tales, and had made some up of his own, about a star falling from heaven and creating a world from darkness. He'd picked me up from school whenever he could, and I'd run into his arms, happy to be like the other kids whose parents picked them up every day. He'd made the worst tasting food. He'd taught me how to ride a bike. He'd made humid summer days feel cooler, with cherry popsicles and something uniquely him.

Even though it was carried away by the wind slapping against my face, and even though our fall had almost come to an end, I screamed straight from what felt like the very core of my being. My eyes teared up from the lashing wind, my throat was destroyed and hoarse, and I was certain I was going to be physically ill, but that scream didn't end even when we landed safely on the ground. The man had simply bent his legs and landed with a jarring impact that sent my head smacking against the back of his knee, one that made my teeth clack and body go absolutely limp. Despite the agonizing reveal and that fact that I'd escaped death yet again, for God knows what reason, my eyes quickly dried, because I never had it in me to cry. Never in my life had I wanted to weep so badly, because I realized the brutal truth of the phrase "you don't know what you have until it's gone". I'd had such a good man for a father, one who loved his family and would never leave of his own accord, and I'd doubted him of that. I'd loved my father more than anyone, and had admittedly still even after being alone for all those years even when surrounded by people. The thought of him rotting away in the ground, without anyone knowing who he was or how amazing a person he was, made me gag until I nearly knocked myself out. It might have been the first time I wished that I hadn't woken up today after Isabelle attacked me. I felt like that would be far less painless than having the world collapse around me and suffocate me.

The man patted me on the small of my back, chuckling despite my mournful screams and choking noises. "Now, now. You can't change the past. I'd really rather you be quiet so that no neighbours decide to look out their window and I'd have to silence them permanently." That did it; I clamped my mouth shut, my nostrils flaring and body heating up to the point of boiling. He began to move as I stewed in my own misery and self-hatred, only it was far faster than any human could have. The scenery seemed to blur by, like we were moving at the speed of a car on the highway, when his legs were simply loping along the streets. As we moved to a destination completely unknown to me, at an impossible speed in the dead of the night, he began making what he might've thought to be light conversation, but I considered quite depressing. "Even if someone was around to hear you scream, there's this nifty new thing that humans have developed throughout the years, especially in our current modern society. They gave it a fancy scientific name like 'Dehumanization', but I prefer to just call it apathy. If someone hears you scream, no matter how loud or for what, it is likely that you may not get an immediate response. This is because all the bystanders figure that someone else will deal with it, and whatever they're doing at the moment is far too important to turn away from.

"Actually, I say it's more current, but I think that's a lie," he continued merrily, as I dazedly watched as the tall city buildings and damp streets slowly faded away into open road surrounded by undeveloped land. "Humans have always been like that. Prioritizing themselves before other people. That's why they're so hopeless and vile," he spat, his grip tightening on me to the point when I knew it was going to bruise. "Even though they have a collective consciousness, they never use it to their advantage, and always go off from what they really should be doing- working together and not destroying the only place they'll ever have to live."

Though I felt like I was speaking from underwater, a hundred miles below, I muttered, "And you're any better?"

That made his laughter hoot around us as we continued to speed down the road. "Well, who can say. One person alone can't really judge the effect they have, until that one person becomes every person doing the same thing and thinking they're the only ones doing it. The only difference about me is that I don't give a shit about this world-" his chuckle reverberated ominously through the mask as we finally began to slow down- "since it isn't my home. I don't expect you to understand," he scoffed. Despite the fact that I considered what he was saying to be pretty valid, I was distracted by the sound of his feet swishing through damp grass, and that my hair was grazing along said grass and gaining moisture. We were somewhere a fair distance from the modernized city, somewhere the grass was voluminous but crippling into a tawny colour from the alleged cold weather. "When someone is in the presence of such greedy creatures for the entire life, they become one as well. They spread their damn infection until it devours the entire planet, and the only people fit to survive on it are people like me… though some of us do require humans as nutrition." I nearly spat behind him in bewilderment, since he'd just insinuated that he ate people, but he only sighed morosely. "A vicious cycle, indeed. All right, we're here."

Apparently it didn't matter that I didn't know where "here" was, since he just tossed me from his shoulder so I landed roughly on the ground in the foetal position. The rational part of me considered just getting up and making a break for it, but once I tried to push myself into at least a sitting position, I discovered I had no strength in my arms and simply collapsed again, my face smashing into hard earth. I grit my teeth and refused to make any indication that I was in pain, since that would be my greatest weakness in a situation like this. I glanced up at my Shugo Chara hovering nearby, fluttering worriedly as they stared at me, and decided now was the time to push all my feelings aside and just try to make sense of the situation. Somehow, two strangers managed to break into my apartment, abducted me from my bed, jumped from the balcony without a single scratch, and zoomed along what was most likely a highway to an incredibly secluded location. This seemed like a pretty good setup for murder or rape, but considering that the man had shared some information with me that may or may not have been true, I didn't think that was what was going on. Besides, he'd told me earlier that if he wanted me dead, I'd be long gone by now. They wanted me for something. I had no idea what I could offer, but I did know that any escape attempts wouldn't go unnoticed or unpunished. The best option I had was to comply with what they wanted and see where it went. Then perhaps I could reassess my surroundings and try to get away (though I wouldn't have had any idea where to go even if I knew where we were).

The first step was to assess my surroundings. I managed to push myself onto my forearms to get a clearer view of where we were, and discovered that it was just outside of thick woods that spread out God knows how far. Gray stones littered the area at irregular intervals, trees towered over us to make a canopy of skeletal hands, and not twenty meters from me was what looked to be the remains of a concrete building. There seemed to be some sort of maroon paint splattered all over its pieces, and piles of black charred dust covered its ground. When I caught a glimpse of something that resembled a white tumbleweed, I squinted until I could make out the shape; it looked to be a porcelain doll with hair as white as mine, and with a gaping hole where one eye should have been. I knew that doll. I'd seen it before. I looked from it to the man in the mask, and the puzzle finally came together.

This was where I'd been taken when I was abducted by those imp-like men all those days ago- where they had been planning to kill me. I remembered being on that same slab of flooring with that doll sitting abandoned to the left of me, and then after I had been viciously scarred on my collarbone, someone had swooped in to save me. Someone in a black and white jester's mask that smiled down at me as they carried me away from the scent of spilled blood. I'd never dwelt much on what had happened that night, but now that it had come back to haunt me, I felt so stupid for just pushing it aside. There were no coincidences in this accursed city; that was just the way it worked. There was no scientific explanation for anything that happened; only magic and smoke and mirrors. The man's head was directed at me, as if waiting for something, and I glared at him with whatever fervour I had left.

"It was you that saved me that night, wasn't it," I said, my voice ringing hollow, completely devoid of emotion. "That's why you said I'd already be dead if you wanted me to be. You could have chosen to let those men kill me, but you didn't." I forced myself to sit up even further, despite my violently shaking arms that were now covered in dirt damp from the melted snow, until I could stare straight up at him. "Why?"

"I thought it would be obvious by now," he muttered, crouching down in front of me and cocking his head to one side. "I care about you. I've been protecting you, testing you this whole time to make sure you were ready for the truth."

"That's very superficial of you," I spat, clenching my hands into fists in an attempt to stop myself from doing anything stupid with them. "I should be the one to decide what I'm ready for or not. Not anyone else. And what gives you the right to know all about my life and be fit to tell me what I've been missing?"

"No one else can," he said simply. "Your father is long dead, your mother's been locked away in a nuthouse, and none of your other family members wanted you to burden them." I flinched without meaning to, cowering away from the stranger who seemed to know so much about me. "Except for me. I wanted you, to raise you the way you were meant to be, not to be tossed into some hellhole of abandoned humans and pawned off to another family."

"Don't you dare talk about my family that way." The beginnings of ice were starting to crack beneath me, the grass rapidly shrivelling up from the spontaneous drop in temperature as my anger began to physically leak out of me. We sat in silence, staring at each other, until the first thing he had said hit me: "Wait- what do you mean you wanted to raise me?"

He shrugged, his large shoulders causing his V-neck shirt to rise up over his eggshell collarbone. "That's what family does. Human families, anyway."

"You're not- I mean-" My eyebrows creased, my breath began to quicken, and my heart was pounding a mile a minute, since I had recognized something about him, had seen the affection in his eyes. "Who are you?"

"Before we get to that," he said suddenly, pouncing into a standing position. "A little story. And since I don't want you running away..." I felt a solid weight hit both of my legs and chafe my skin, and when I looked down in panic, I discovered that they had been frozen solid and stuck to the ground. The more I tried to move them, the more I felt my skin dry and begin to bleed. I stopped and stared at the man and his partner, then at my Shugo Chara, who were now crying but incapable of looking at me, pathetic and stuck to the ground like a prisoner with no hope of escape. Vivian and Lilith looked as though they were trying to pull themselves together, constantly sniffling to rob away any traces of snot, their tiny bodies clenched like aching springs. Satsuki was a downright mess, her face completely red from exertion, and I had no idea what to do. I couldn't handle this situation calmly to make them feel better- heck, I didn't even know if I wanted them to feel better since it seemed like they were in cahoots with these kidnappers. The smaller bandit began to snicker, sounding disturbingly like a hiss, at my distressed expression, and I was under the impression that the two of them enjoyed my pain, my discomfort. Sooner than I could say anything, the man launched into a story I had heard before, though from the voice of my- deceased- father (which was most likely a blessing since I wouldn't have said anything intelligent anyway).

The man's voice changed from its eerily delighted tone to one he must have reserved for storytelling, since it lowered in pitch and was gentle water running over smooth rocks, caressing and easing its way into my mind and memory. The mask made it all the more theatrical and actually succeeded in lulling me into what could be considered a trance, since my body went slack with no resistance and my eyes glazed over as I watched him make hand gestures to go along with his tale. His accompaniment was the wind rattling the naked branches and his partner humming some foreign, throaty tune, and the occasional sniffle from one of my Shugo Chara.

"A long, long time ago, a star was cast out from the sky. In the simplest terms, he did not fit in with the other stars around him- his light began to dim the more he began to question the very sky he lived in, and eventually it almost faded away altogether. And so he was condemned to live in a world of darkness, along with the other stars whose brilliant glow began to fade, which they would soon become a part of if they were to remain as they were.

"The world of darkness was a strange one; the darkness seemed to almost be a physical thing. When they turned to look at it, they felt as though it was looking straight back and reaching for them, trying to diminish their glow for eternity. This is because that darkness was alive." This was a part of the story my father had neglected to indulge in; he simply said that the star brought light to the world of darkness around it and made it kind of like a society for misfits. This version, though it was definitely the same story that I had fallen asleep to countless nights, was far more dark- and maybe that was the point. "The darkness was what we now refer to as demons, in their most bare and natural form. Every shadow you look at is them looking right at you, waiting for you to stare at them long enough so that they can ensnare and devour you."

Discomfort swam all through my body as I shifted nervously and helplessly against my ice shackles. There were always shadows everywhere, all the time- even more so in the day. I could not say I was ever afraid of the dark, but rather suspicious of it, as if I knew there was something in there waiting to come out- which was why I could never stayed in it for long. I kept my eyes trained on the ground and away from the pitch black seeping from the woods as he continued, "Regardless, the stars were to be eternally punished for committing the sins that they did, for going against the brightest star in the sky despite its absolute rule. Though the first star, the first rebellious one of them all, was not disturbed by their current conditions- rather, he was enthralled by it. He got the idea that he could mould the darkness, could give it shape and form and create something from a world that was absolutely nothing. Because that was where they were being purged to- a world of nothingness, which is by far the worst Hell of them all.

"And so the star befriended the darkness, coaxed it into shapes, gave it life and wonderful abilities. Some clumps of darkness were far stronger than others, and made suitable warriors and beasts of nightmares; others were rather pathetic, and could barely stand on their own, much like what humans refer to as the animal kingdom. The world began to change directly from his mind, to create pathways of obsidian, neverending forests and mazes, lands of brimstone and floating land and ice. Casting Lucifer Morningstar into Hell was meant as a punishment, but as one understandably said, 'Better to rule in Hell than to serve in Heaven'." It hit me then that he was basically giving me some warped, insane version of Paradise Lost I'd never heard before. This was getting far too biblical for my understanding, since I'd never been religious, but I got the basics of it; what I didn't get was why I had to listen to it.

"Stay with me here," he said sternly, pointing an almost skeletal finger in my face. "As he travelled the world he created, forming more demons along the way, he came across a tundra of ice and snow- and in that ice and snow was a demoness. Hair as white as the snow around her, eyes as violet as twilight, with a cosmic blue ring encircling her dilated pupils-" gee, that sounded familiar, "-she was one of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen, far more than any angel. But unlike him, she could not feel, because nothingness had no feelings, and that was all she was. His celestial spirit allowed him to experience the pleasures known to man as emotions, but she felt no such thing. Despite this, she ended up bearing him two sons that would come to rule over the icy tundra that then became known as Stiriacus: Glaziel and Lecariel."

I recognized the name Stiriacus, only to realize that it was what those imp-mean had been muttering about both the first time I'd seen one and then when they'd abducted me. They told me it was a place, and now it was all began to shine with such crystalline clarity I was blinded by the truth: according to this story, Stiriacus was a place. In Hell. Made from nothing but ice and snow and darkness. Just like how my powers seemed to be. I didn't think the gaping hole in my chest could widen any more, but now it certainly felt like an endless chasm that I couldn't bare to look into. I couldn't face what lied in the darkness writhing right beneath my skin, I couldn't face how everything was adding up to an equation I didn't want to understand- that I couldn't understand, unless I wanted to lose my mind for real.

"That's basically it for that story, with much omitted," the man sang, lapsing out from his cryptic tone of voice. "There was a bunch more stuff that happened, like power struggles and wars and calamities and involvement on Earth... all flotsam at the moment. Now I'm going to tell you about the tundra demon's sons, Glaziel and Lecariel, since this is basically why I'm telling you this story. Are you ready?" I growled at him fiercely and writhed against my solid restraints, making him laugh. "Oh, how watching one struggle in futility is amusing. That's the story of humanity in a nutshell, by the way. Anyway, soon after the two sons were born, the tundra demoness died. Not of natural causes- for demons, there's no such thing. We do not age, and we do not die from any sort of pitiful thing a human can. We can only be killed by our exact opposite, by holy powers and sacred relics, you get the picture. Since Lucifer was technically a holy relic himself, he heeded his lover's pleas to end her life. She was already tired of living for so long, and wished to return to her original state of collective consciousness in which she didn't have to think or wonder about feeling or stare into the faces of her two sons that were conceived in the same manner as humans."

Somehow, that part seemed almost unbearably sad to me. Despite the fact that we were theoretically talking about demons and Lucifer and whatnot, the demoness pleading for Lucifer to kill her because she hated being alive just seemed selfish. Without thinking, I asked, "Did she have a name?"

I could feel the man smile beneath his mask. "I'm thrilled you asked. Lucifer gave her a name himself, one that came to mean the frozen sovereign of Stiriacus- Snowrenrie."

I blinked in astonishment.

He held up a hand as if to physically stop any words coming from my mouth. "You can process this later. Where was I? Ah, right, Snowrenrie was killed by Lucifer, the greatest gift a demon lover can give to show their affections. Eternal life is a heavy burden, and finally ending it was such a blessing to Snowrenrie that she didn't mind leaving her sons alone to grow up in their native Hell. Glaziel and Lecariel turned out pretty okay, all things considered- after all, demons don't have emotions or feelings, so none of that really affected them. But their father was one of the fallen. There was bound to be something wrong with one-" he paused thoughtfully "- or both of them. Lecariel grew to be reckless and uncaring, your classic lover of destruction and death. Glaziel, the older of the two, showed signs of being his polar opposite since the moment he was born. His violet and blue eyes showed something no demon had ever seen before, something they gossiped and mocked him for, but something their father found intriguing: kindness and compassion. Glaziel could have very well been a human in a demon body, but despite that, he grew to be the very finest ruler of Stiriacus that lesser demons feared and his younger brother revered. The only flaw in his leadership was that he was fascinated by the human world- by Earth. He and Lecariel made routine visits to Earth to investigate and fool around and the like, and they even ended up creating a sort of demon paradise right there on Earth. Everything was fantastic for the two of them, and the only thing that slightly resembled feelings for demons was strong between them- kinship and respect. That is, until a mortal woman came along and shook Hell to its very core.

"You could say it was love at first sight for Glaziel. Something about her drew him to her like a moth to a flame, and he gave up his crown and native world for that one human girl." He spat the word like it physically sickened him. "He claimed that he was in love, that he could not bear to live another day without her. Despite how Lecariel tried to stop him from leaving their home, from throwing his life away, he would not listen, and wounded up spending many years on Earth with his mortal lover... until they made the biggest mistake that Hell had seen countless times before, but never had condoned." Somehow I felt like I knew what it was, and I was analyzing how well his story matched up with the vision I'd had two days ago from the necklace when he said, "They had a child."

I found myself staring up at him in bewilderment, the mask covering his face betraying nothing he might have been feeling. However, it the silence that told me this was more of a grave subject than I thought it to be: his partner no longer giggled or hummed, and even my Shugo Chara stopped sniffling. I didn't understand what the big deal was, but my mind was almost completely consumed by the vision the necklace showed me, where one man was trying to persuade another- his "brother"- to not leave some place. He said there would be consequences if he had a child. Though I'd never, ever heard of them before, and I didn't have the slightest idea why, the vision had been showing me an exchange between Glaziel and Lecariel like that stranger had been describing. After I struggled to swallow down the burning sensation in my throat, I asked, "What was so bad about them having a kid?"

The glowing green orbs that were his eyes slit in almond shapes, like he was narrowing them at me in contempt. "You don't seem to understand the implications of such a crime," he growled.

"Of course not," I scoffed. "I don't even understand why it is a crime. Children are born every day. What was wrong with this one?"

"Don't you see?" For the first time since this whole predicament began, he sounded honest-to-God furious. His hands were flexing into claw shapes at his side, like he was physically restraining violence, and the mask no longer seemed satirical, but now just plain threatening. "The two of them created a hybrid. Half-demon and half-human. This is taboo- the only taboo- in Hell. God's creatures mating with beings of the Void?" His head twitched back and forth, revulsion making it too jerky to be a simple shake. "Sinful by the very definition of the word. It's not as if hybrids hadn't been created before; both male and female demons joy in toying with humans and their bodies." The words made me shudder so hard it was better to say I convulsed. "But every time it had ever happened before, the creatures were killed immediately, or ended up destroying themselves. They are abominations with the bodies and strengths of demons, but with the incredibly powerful emotions humans have to increase said powers and strengths.

"They're wild cards," he grunted, starting to pace. "Completely unpredictable and mysterious, since none were alive long enough to study. If we let them live and roam freely, there's no telling what sort of chaos would ensue. One could say they're even more powerful than regular demons, with the strength of emotions on their sides. They could be vicious killing machines driven by these feelings. They cannot be controlled, which is why they're destroyed. Lucifer orders their annihilation without ever making exceptions." It was then that I recognized his tone not to be angry, but bitter, as if the story made something sour within him.

That was what made me say, "But he did make an exception this time. Because Glaziel was his son, and this hybrid was his grandchild." If someone had asked me why I was going along with his story so well, I didn't know if I would have been able to answer them. The fact of the matter was that while it was horrifying, it was also fascinating; I'd seen enough demons in the past month to know that they were absolutely, undeniably real, and as gruesome as every legend and myth made them out to be. So who was to say that this story was not real, as well? Even if it was coming from a certifiable stranger.

He nodded, continuing from where I'd thrown in my guess. "It wasn't that he just let Glaziel off with a slap on the wrist; he gave him the same choice he gave every demon parent of a hybrid: their life, or their child's. It was just that Glaziel made the choice no one else did. Every other demon did not give a shit about their grotesque, unholy children, even though they themselves were the definition of unholy. But because Glaziel was technically part angel- albeit fallen- he had the capability to feel. And he loved his daughter more than anything in the world." I noticed that he'd switched from referring to the child as gender-neutral to confirming that it was a girl. And for the first time in my life, I swore that I felt cold. It felt like something was crawling around inside of me, erasing any traces of bodily warmth, and instead just making my insides rot with dread and premonition. Like he knew exactly what I was feeling, the stranger quit his pacing to loom right above me, and I could feel his gaze burning a hole in my head even though I refused to look up at him. "Because of how much he loved his daughter and wife, he chose to give his life for their's without any hesitation. His father agreed, and his daughter would be given the privilege to live so long as she passed a test of his when she was of age. And so Lucifer sent his minions to collect his son from his family home, tearing him out of the arms of his wife and leaving his daughter to come home to only one parent, when she was accustomed to seeing the two together."

The man didn't need to say anything more, because I already knew. Deep down, since the moment I walked in the door that day, I knew something was wrong with my very existence. I knew I wasn't like everyone else, and not just because my father had disappeared, or that my mother had attempted filicide. I had always blamed myself for my father's absence, and not just because I needed something to blame, but because I knew it was the truth. The man had confirmed it earlier, when he said my life was exchanged for his. My body began to cave in on itself, until I was curled into a protective little ball, with my head crushing into the ground as I kept trying to hide from reality. Now my Shugo Chara were wailing, in guilt or sympathy I didn't know, but it didn't matter. Never in my life had I been so certain that I was utterly and completely alone. It didn't matter that I had magical little guardian angels by my side. It didn't matter that I was part of a group who said they liked me for me. It didn't matter that school was actually fun for me now, that I had a friend who was meant to be an enemy, that I had come to this city looking to start a new life.

All of it was a lie.

"Having her lover taken from her was too much for Glaziel's wife," the man said softly, almost like he pitied me. "Ever since her daughter was born, she admittedly got far less attention from her husband. With the knowledge that he was gone now thanks to the fact that he loved his daughter more than anything, she snapped. When her daughter came home from school, the woman attempted to take her own child's life out of vengeance, out of the despair from having her only love taken away from her. But the child couldn't die. Because it wasn't mortal."

"Please stop," I whispered into the ground, my eyes squeezed shut so hard buzzing dots were quivering on my lids.

"For the rest of her life, the child had to bear the scars of her parents' mistake of bringing her into the world. She has to bear the weight of not being able to belong to any world, for she is regarded as an abomination in every one. No matter how many friends she thinks she makes, no matter where in the world she travels to, she will never belong, and will never be accepted. If people knew what she really was, she would be spurned, isolated, despised..." He trailed off when he registered that I was shaking with unshed tears and unheard sobs, my hands clawing holes into the ground. "Well, you get the picture. No one likes you very much."

"Why do you know all this?" I hissed, staring up at him with a face that resembled a furious ape's. "What part do you play in this whole story? I'm not too fond of some stranger knowing that I was a freak before I did."

"Because," he drawled, and when I saw him reaching behind his head, I recoiled hastily, not wanting to know what sort of face hid beneath that smiling mask. He untied it slowly, making me shake and my fear eat me alive, and when the strings were finally unattached, he still held it on his face with one hand. His companion was laughing again, loving the sight of despair and destruction, and she went full-on hysterical once he took it off completely and I was left staring at him with a detached jaw. "I'm Lecariel from that story," Lee said with a grin, one that was unlike the neighbour I knew- who probably never existed in the first place. "But you can call me uncle, if you'd like."

Snow: Jesus Christ.

Crimrose: I think that's pretty ironic of you to say, considering.

Snow: Wait a- does that mean- can I not say "oh my god" anymore?

Crimrose: You know what, I'm not too sure. Maybe you still should, as an inside joke.

Snow: You're horrible.

Crimrose: Yes, yes, I know. Anyway, look forward to the next chapter, I'll try to keep it a shorter length as well! And though some of you may have seen this coming, I hope you were a little bit surprised all the same. See you next time!

Lee (Lecariel? Uncle? Who knows): I told you I wasn't a pedophile.