Disclaimer: I don't own CCS

NOTE: I am proud to say that this chapter was beta-read by TamChronin, the lovely author, who writes such beautiful stories! ^_^ If you think this chapter sucks—it's certainly not her fault! It's mine and I take full credit for that (hee hee). This chapter is much more cleaner than the original. There were many silly mistakes ^^; So a big thanks of appreciation to her! ::hugs::

            And there's a Glossary at the end of this chapter. I forgot to put it for the last one... ^^ Gomen ne!

"-" : talking dialogue
*-----*-----* : retrospect intervals—Eriol



Benevolent Malice
Chapter 9: Seraphic Abomination


*-----*-----*

            The white and silver robes of a distinguished seraph were frayed by the edges of merciless swords and soiled with scarlet blood. The pure whiteness of six wings were no longer apparent since many feathers had been cut off or lacerated, leaving raw flesh and cartilage to be exposed.


            Falling through the second portal to Hell, the wounded seraph now plunged toward the coarse grounds of Hell. Luckily, he fell into the shallow area of a river, the side of his body hitting the soft sand and the water splashing up, misting the air.


            Feeling the soft torrents of the harshly cold water caress his bruises and open wounds, the seraph let it rob him of his remaining body heat, willingly submitting to the uncertainties of death...


            ...he blinked once more, though it did no help to focus his blurry vision. Finding it useless to go on, he then closed his eyes, letting himself drift...float...


            But his soul was immediately pulled back into his agonized body by a single distraction...


            Nudging the fallen seraph's chest with the head of her high-heeled shoes, she looked down at the broken celestial being; his crimson blood tainted the opaque black water, slowly swirling around his body like carmine eddies.


            "Why, if it isn't my psychologist-o-pal," said the familiar mocking voice, "...I knew you'd 'drop' by here eventually, Hiiragizawa-san. But you're here sooner than I expected. What? Did Heaven say their sweet farewells all too quickly?"


            She reached down and touched one of his mutilated wings that were once beautiful, that were once pure; but now stained with crimson. Her fingers slowly and lazily trailed along the raw flesh, almost as if to seduce him, and her fingertips grew slippery with his blood.


            Yet Eriol did not feel her malevolent caresses. His whole body had grown numb with pain a while ago and cool death was now seeping in through the numerous wounds on his body. He simply wanted his damned soul to go wherever it may. He simply wanted to die...ironically, even death would not come to him easily.


            Eriol forced his eyes to open, his eyelids feeling strangely heavy. His entire body felt like dead weight, but he managed to slightly lift his head from the shallow water.


            His eyes traveled up a lithe, feminine body clad in a black cheongsam with silvery embroidery and finally he met a familiar face.


            Her face. She looked somewhat more different…she was not hunched over with the heavy weight by chains and shackles like she had been in Heaven. She was free...and she was in all her glory now, standing there before him, refined and poised; powerful and dominant.


            "Happy to see me again?" she asked mockingly, a small smile curved one corner of her mouth. Though it did not seem like it, she was secretly happy to see him alive...


            "... ..." Eriol opened his mouth, but the words refused to form together, much less come out.


            He closed his mouth and laid his back down, his gaze fell away from the green-haired woman. He had realized that the pain sent him in a state of transient aphasia, so he decided not to waste any energy left in his crippled body.


            She knelt down beside him, her dress soaked in the icy water, "Still blinded by your faith, Hiiragizawa-san?" she asked idly. Still playing with his wing, she used her other hand to slowly trace one fingertip down his forehead, between his eyes and to the bridge of his nose. She slightly leaned her head down, putting herself in front of his view.


            Eriol stared into her honey-yellow eyes, finding that they were deadly serious and he had heard no mockery in her tone, he realized that she wanted a serious answer…


            But he could only laugh. Yes, his throat was dry and his tongue seemed absent, but the feeling of bitterness welled within him; overflowing his mind and drowning his weakened heart, ultimately causing him to laugh. Oh, and yes, it hurt to laugh. But it was better to laugh than to cry.


            Listening to his soft, breathy chuckle, she waited, staring into his dull gray eyes. Mentally, she noted that the male seraph looked…different. His hair was still raven-blue and the intelligent clarity of his gray eyes was still there, but he seemed somewhat more…mature. Pragmatic.


            Just within the past few days, he had been betrayed, pushed away, looked down upon, and damned by his own kind. He had grown up because of that. He had grown up all too quickly.


            Hiiragizawa Eriol, once an acclaimed seraph, had lost his naivety, his innocence—


            Managing to say two words, he asked quietly, "What faith?"


            His voice did not crack, his words did not falter, and his tone expressed no anger or acrimony, yet showed absolutely no potential of forgiveness.


            He had lost his faith.


            A small smile graced her face and managed to reach her almond-shaped eyes. She stroked Eriol's cheek with the back of her finger gently, almost lovingly. "Stay alive," she requested, though it sounded more like a command.


            Eriol stared at her twinkling yellow eyes, question reflected in his eyes that were glazed over from the lack of energy that still slipped from him.


            "You saved my life before and I will not let that deed be left unacknowledged—and so, I welcome you with full honors to my Realm. Welcome, Hiiragizawa...-kun. This is only the start of your perdition, your resurgence..."

*-----*-----*


            Eriol woke up with a sharp gasp, his eyes shot wide open. Momentarily, his gray eyes flashed from a dark charcoal gray back to its' normal shade of silvery-gray. His pupils were abnormally small, but after blinking a few times he was able to adjust them...


            He found himself lying on his stomach, his arms folded on top of the downy pillow and the side of his head rested against his forearms. He tried to move, but found it difficult. Evidently, his body was paralyzed with pain.


            Wonderful. He found himself thinking sarcastically...Syaoran's influence was to blame.


            He was in his bedroom…He let out a soft breath, closing his eyes again.


            ...it was just a dream, Eriol thought, ...datte...this was the first time in decades that I dreamed about those times...about her...


            Sudden images flashes through his head, almost shocking him. Dark emerald tresses, topaz-yellow eyes, and china skin…it was her. With her sharp, almond-shaped eyes and stoic expression, she was the epitome of intelligence, command, and fortitude, despite her slender figure and crème complexion.


            She was his wise mentor. His tireless tormentor. His dark savior.


            He was her compassionate enemy. Her trusted friend. And ultimately, her vessel…


            '…what am I to Syaoran? …Syaoran…'


            Blinking at the thought, Eriol's eyes opened, 'Syaoran! What happened—?'


            '—he's all right. Don't worry about him.'


            Though it did not show, Eriol inwardly was taken aback. He had accidentally forgotten to put up a mental barrier to keep his thoughts private. And he had not felt another aura in the room until now. He lifted his head from his arms and turned his attention the one sitting on a chair by his bedside...


            "...Kaho-san..." Eriol looked at the auburn-haired General.


            "If I was an enemy, you would have been destroyed, now wouldn't you? Perhaps I was right. Perhaps your feelings toward Li-san are affecting your well-being." Kaho remarked, gazing back at him.


            Eriol silently stared at her for some time, yet it was not scrutinizing gaze, it was more curious and inquisitorial.


            Even so, Kaho guiltily averted her eyes to her lap, avoiding his eyes.


            "I swore I would never...never care for your well-being ever again...but..." Kaho trailed off, hurt reflected in her eyes for a moment, but quickly disappeared when she remarked, "...your wings did a lot of damage to your back."


            Only then was Eriol aware that he was not wearing a shirt. He slightly looked over his shoulder, seeing the he was still wearing his black pants, but his whole torso was wrapped tightly with white gauze.


            "…since you can't be healed by black magic, I had to resort to manual healing…I'm not very good at it, I know. But I did the best I could." Kaho remarked quietly.


            Eriol already knew the damage done to his back. Two symmetrical, yet ragged wounds ran down his back, between his shoulder blades and adjacent to his spine. His wings had torn themselves through his skin and left their marks; two lines of crimson.


            It was abnormal for wings to affect a demon physically. Then again, Kaho thought, ...he's not a demon. Not really one, anyway.


            "You did a very good job. Domo arigatou, Kaho-san." Eriol glanced at her and forced the best smile he could. He rested his head on his arms again, gazing at the edge of the bed. He knew that if he looked at her while she talked or even glanced at her for more that three seconds, she would grow uncomfortable and awkward.


            Kaho softly cleared her throat, looking down at her lap, "...Eriol-san...I...I'm..." Kaho ruefully looked at her hand and remembered the sharp sound of her hand slapping Eriol's cheek, "...I'm sorry that I—"


            "Don't be," Eriol cut her off gently, "I know you didn't mean to," he glanced at her for a moment with a small smile, then averted his eyes back to the edge of the bed, "so it's all right. And Nakuru-chan let her anger get the best of her. I'm apologize on behalf of her. Are you all right?"


            Kaho slightly smiled and nodded her head, yet still felt the pang of regret, "I'm fine...but still, I didn't mean to hit you...but...I did mean what I said about Li Syaoran."


            Eriol glanced at her, this time he did not turn his gaze away from her.


            "I know you don't want to hear it again, but what we talked about before was important…he's an angel. And there's no hope for him down here in Hell. So you can't…you can't give into the feelings you have for him..." Kaho said firmly, yet softly; trying her best not to meet eyes with Eriol, yet her eyes betrayed her and she stared back him.


            His eyebrow slightly curved, almost revealing a frown, but the flawless smile remained on his face. Eriol opened his mouth—


            "—and I know you already told me that you don't know what I'm talking about. You said you didn't have those kinds of feelings for him," Kaho interrupted quietly, "…but I know what I'm talking about. I saw what I needed to see…it's simple. You love-" Kaho found is difficult to speak now.


            This time, it was Eriol's turn to interrupt, "—Again, I have apologize, Kaho-san. But I really do not know what you are talking about," his gray eyes slightly darkened, "It's already accounted for that I..cannot love—"


            Was that a bitter note in his voice? Kaho didn't know...she couldn't tell for sure...


            "—It is impossible. I have no heart, remember?" he asked lightly.


            If Eriol harbored any spiteful feelings, he was holding them back with remarkable composure. Kaho noted this and gave him a quietly significant look.


            "I know. I remember," Kaho replied, not able to tear her gaze away from his, "…that is why I felt the need to warn you, to remind you…because if you have any feelings for Li-san, then…"


            "I don't. So there is no need to worry about such things." Eriol forced a smile once again. A beautifully flawless smile.


            I hate to smile, he realized with bitter resentment. His smile slightly widened, revealing none of his innermost thoughts, I hate it very much, indeed.


            "So...all is forgiven and cleared up. Everything is back to its normal state. Excellent." Eriol remarked, trying to kick in some enthusiasm, but failed; failing with grace at the least.


            There was a slight pause...


            "I also hope you shall forgive me for one more thing," Kaho remarked, her voice quiet, yet firm, "I have done you a favor by giving Li-san…a riddle."


            "...a riddle?" Eriol inquired curiously, "...about what?"


            "You...It's about you. Your seraphic wings are quite extraordinary; so it's apparent that he knows part of your secret...and so...I thought it would be best to give him something that would help him understand a bit more..." Kaho trailed off, closing her eyes calmly.


            Eriol's eyes slightly darkened, not liking the sound of this "riddle" Kaho had given Syaoran...


            Managing to hold up his impeccable poise with a polite smile, "Perhaps you could humor me. What is it that this riddle's answer could reveal...?"





            Flashes of six black wings, raven-blue hair, and gray eyes rushed through his mind like pieces of an induced dream…perhaps it was an induced dream because it was...so amazing, so incredible...that Syaoran guessed it must have been a fantasy...


            Slowly awaking from his half-sleeping state, his eyelids slowly lifted, revealing chocolate brown irises. He expected to be staring at the ceiling, instead he was staring...into a pair of eyes...


            "GAH—!!!" Syaoran let out a choked gasp of surprise, scrambling out of the blankets.


            Syaoran instinctively reached into his pocket, brought out a small object and his sword appeared in his hand. He swiftly brought himself on one knee on the soft mattress, his brandished sword was pointed directly at the stranger's beating heart, mere inches away from piercing skin and bone. His action was done within a single breath, leaving no room for mistakes.


            "Ano!" a tiny squeak emerged from the intruder, "...y-you're awake now, huh?" Nakuru asked, a rather large sweatdrop made its way down her head as she eyed the sword.


            "For God's sake..." Syaoran let out a sharp breath of relief as he lowered his sword, relaxing his muscles, "...and for your own sake, don't do that again!" he snapped irritably, lowering his aura. He let out a slow, heavy breath, trying to bring his heart back to its normal pace.


            Silently, Nakuru leaned forward, scrutinizing every aspect of Syaoran's face…


            ...in response to her unsolicited scrutiny, Syaoran leaned back as Nakuru leaned toward him. He glared at her with an arched eyebrow, trying his best to keep his face and Nakuru's face from touching...


            When he could not lean away anymore, he held out his hands, "You're beginning to...annoy me—and that's putting it mildly. So I'd appreciate it if you'd keep at least a one foot distance away from me." Syaoran pushed Nakuru away by her shoulders.


            Totally ignoring his request, Nakuru clapped her hands together, "Ai! You're really all right!!" Nakuru flung herself at Syaoran, glomping one arm and nuzzled her head against his shoulder like a kitten, "you're glaring and everything! You're all better!!"


            Slightly blushing from Nakuru's forthright action, Syaoran simply rolled his eyes to the other direction. However, he felt somewhat relieved. Nakuru was right. He was better. He FELT better…a lot better, in fact...strange...it was like yesterday's sickness never happened...


            Syaoran ignored Nakuru as she began to ramble on and he turned his head toward the mirror across the room...He could see his own reflection, and it was perfectly solid, not transparent! That meant his soul was completely intact with his body. The mirror reflects the 'soul', not just the 'physical body'.


            But nothing made sense…how did this change happen so suddenly? He was about to die one minute and now—


Before Syaoran could think anymore, he was jolted out of his thoughts when something smacked him upside the head. "What the—!?"


            "THAT'S for not paying attention to me! I was worried about you for longer than you give me credit for, you jerk!" Nakuru snapped angrily, then she slapped the top of Syaoran's head with the book she brandished in her hands, "And THAT'S for destroying half the mansion!!"


            Syaoran opened his mouth to protest for his defense, but—


            Nakuru slammed the book in Syaoran's face, knocking him back on the bed, "And THAT'S for trying to hurt Eriol-sama!!!" the book was firmly implanted on Syaoran's face.


Sitting back up on the bed, "…jeez," Syaoran grumbled, removing the book off his injured face. He glared at Nakuru, "I had a good reason, you know!"


"Yeah, well, I had a good book to hit you with." Nakuru retorted, glaring back.


            Syaoran looked at the book, then glanced at Nakuru, tempted to do her the same 'favor' she did to him…he glanced at the book again, seeing it was fairly small. Its cover was made of dark cherrywood and though the deep crimson was faded away with age; a sweet, ancient smell still emanated from it.


            "Is this your book?" Syaoran asked, but remembered Nakuru hardly had an interest with books, "…or is it Spinel's?"


            "No. It's Kaho's...Ugh," Nakuru frowned disdainfully at the very name of the woman, "she told me to give it to you. Grr… I was about to tell her to just shove that book up her—"


            "Wait. Why'd she give this to me?" Syaoran opened the book carefully, almost cautiously. He found that many, if not all, of the pages were…empty.


            He turned the first few pages...blank...blank...blank.


            "Kaho told me not to look in the book," Nakuru said, then she shrugged, "but I did anyway. There's only one thing in that stupid book. And it's a picture of Leptesca-sama."


            Leptesca? ...the woman General Malicifer. The one that tried to bring upon the Apocalypse... Syaoran turned a few blank pages and then found a gray-white picture of a woman, which was pasted in the center of the page. She was quite beautiful, yet looked somewhat menacing...he read the neatly-written, script letters.


            Lady Leptesca RaAvis


            There were a few sentences under the name, but he couldn't decipher that certain dialect of Latin. He studied the picture again...


            The woman stood beside a tall, graceful tree; her long, dark tresses fell softly by her slender waist, licking at her hips. She was dressed in statuesque ceremonial Chinese robes of silvery-gray and darkest black. Syaoran realized that her hair style and face structure was compatible with Nakuru's...


            Syaoran glanced at Nakuru, who seemed engrossed with the picture, and stared at it by leaning over his shoulder...


            He turned back to the picture, noting the resemblance between them. Their eyes were shaped differently. Though Nakuru had an elegant curve to show off her long lashes, Leptesca's eyes had a sharper curve that gave her eyelashes a mature flare.


            Not able to explain why, Syaoran felt...entranced by her almond-shaped eyes even though the antique picture had no color; he was captivated by the utter clarity of her irises that gleamed with pride despite her serious expression.


            ...subconsciously, Syaoran raised his hand to touch the picture...


            "Hey, I didn't notice that before! What is it?" Nakuru exclaimed.


            Slightly flinching, Syaoran blinked out the trance that withheld his senses in some sort of a bind...His fingertips were mere centimeters from touching the picture, but he immediately recoiled his hand.


            Looking at where Nakuru was pointing to, he regarded a small black blossom that peeked out from between the pages...


            Syaoran thumbed the book, opening the book to its' middle...then something fell upon his lap. He glanced it...


            ...a small cherry-blossom branch...


            However, this was a strange sakura-offshoot from the regular sakura-trees he had seen before...


            Syaoran carefully picked it up and held it before his face, examining the exotic cherry-blossom twig. The petals were a charcoal black, not a gentle pink. The delicate, small plant had been dried and flattened between the pages of the book…


            "Wow...kirei desu..." Nakuru breathed as she looked down at the flattened, sweet-smelling plant.


            Yes, the black blossoms were beautiful, yet...they looked somewhat morbid. Syaoran gently touched the dried, fragile petals, feeling the whisper-like silkiness on his fingertips.


            "...what is that thing anyway?" Nakuru asked abruptly as she blinked at the dried, flattened flowers.


            Syaoran almost faltered right off the edge of the bed.


            "Haven't you ever seen a cherry-blossom tree before?" Syaoran asked sardonically, somewhat annoyed with her ignorance.


            Missing the sarcasm, Nakuru shook her head, genuine curiosity in her eyes.


            Syaoran glanced at her for a few seconds, realizing that she really did not know…he was somewhat surprised.


            "...Aren't there any Japanese Sakura-trees here?" Syaoran asked.


            "Sa-ku-ra?" Nakuru slowly pronounced the word, "um...no...but we have Japanese Maple trees," Nakuru replied, still awed by the black cherry-blossoms, "these flowers are really pretty! I like the Maple leaves, too…but these Sa-ku-ra blossoms are so…well, so pretty!"


            How eloquent Nakuru is.


            Forcing himself to push aside his sarcastic thoughts, Syaoran's eyes narrowed in deeper, more practical thought.


            …strange…wait a second…oh! That's right! Syaoran's eyes lighted up when a certain realization struck him. A piece of knowledge played into his mind. In Heaven, they don't have any Japanese Maple trees, but they have plenty of Sakura-trees…so in Hell, they don't have any Sakura-trees. The Cherry-Blossom tree signifies Heaven and—


            Syaoran remembered the hot springs Eriol took him to before…the crimson and gold leaves of the Japanese Maple leaves…


            —and the Japanese Maple tree signifies Hell.


            "Oooo!" Nakuru snatched the book out of Syaoran's hands.


            "Hey! Be careful! It's old—!" Syaoran reprimanded sternly.


            "…suge…" Nakuru breathed, looking at the picture with great interest.


            Syaoran's eyes fell upon the picture and he, too, fell silent in awe…


            …it was a gray-white picture of…of Eriol! Yet he looked…different. Having no glasses, his face looked more youthful and his eyes held a simplistic gleam of naiveté, yet intelligence as well…and the small, demure smile that seemed to tug at one corner of his lips was—well, adorably innocent…


            …oh, hell no. This could NOT be Eriol. Him? Innocent? Naïve? HA! That's good one… Syaoran almost laughed aloud, feeling laughter almost bubble in the base of his throat.


            ...but then again...Eriol had many masks; his smile being his best. His smile hid everything. And by everything, that meant E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G—which was much to Syaoran's disadvantage.


            …but the picture looks so…genuine…so candid… Syaoran thought, his smile fading away with deep thought, looking at the picture, inspecting every minutiae.


            Though Eriol's eyes were framed by glasses now, they did not hinder the cryptic gleam of unseen vigilance and surreptitious intentions. And his equally clandestine smile hid all emotion, all intendments, and all signs of weakness, yet…the coyness of his smile was still there, ever-so slightly glimmering in his silvery-gray eyes…


            The innocent young man in the picture and the abstruse gentleman were the same being...though they were different in many ways.


            Syaoran glanced at the black cherry-blossoms, then at the picture again…


            …these sakura blossoms were placed between the pages with a picture of Eriol that's God knows how old… Syaoran felt a sudden sensation of concern bloom within his chest, …Eriol…


            …Eriol! I can't believe I almost forgot!


            "Where is he? Where's Eriol?" Syaoran asked quickly, the questions rolled off of his tongue the second they formed in his head.


            Is he all right? Why isn't he here now? Why…where…? Syaoran tried to block out the other questions.


            Startled by the sudden demand that cut through the silence quite soundly, Nakuru almost dropped the book, glancing at the brown-haired angel.


            Hey! …he called him Eriol…not Hiiragizawa or idiot or… Nakuru stared at Syaoran.


            "Well? Where is he?" Syaoran snapped impatiently.


            "All right! I heard you the first time, you know!" Nakuru snapped back before she let out a half-frustrated, half-worried sigh, "…Kaho took him into a room to treat his wounds or something. Suppi-kun said Eriol-sama needed his rest…" her lips tightened, "…so he's really hurt, I guess. And Kaho can't heal him …something about black magic not able to work on him…but that's all I know-so stop being so cranky with me!"


            …he's…h-hurt…? Him? Syaoran thought, finding it almost difficult to believe and imagine ERIOL hurt. Him, one of the most feared and powerful entities of the immortal world.


            Syaoran felt his stomach twist into a knot for some reason…


            "…and me and Spinel aren't allowed to see how he's doing until we get permission from Kaho…" Nakuru's eyes slightly narrowed, her lips tightening, "…he's MY master, I should be the one to take care of him…" she murmured, more to herself than to him.


            But Syaoran did not hear anyway; the strings of disbelief still withheld him.


            How did he get hurt…hmph. That idiot…saving me…I never asked him to! Syaoran's eyes narrowed with anger….at himself. He felt the concern begin to grow. He bit his lower lip to prevent himself from showing any emotion of worry in front of Nakuru.


            "Which room is he in?" Syaoran asked again, looking at Nakuru with serious eyes, "if black magic doesn't work, white magic will."


            "What?" Nakuru looked at him strangely, "What do you mean white magic will work on him? How?"


            "…because! It just will!"


            Honestly, Syaoran made up that far-fetched hypothesis right then and there. But he decided to stick with it, hoping that Nakuru would fall for it...


            However, she did not; much to Syaoran's disappointment. "White magic wouldn't work on ERIOL-SAMA…he's a demon!"


            Syaoran slightly arched his eyebrow, …no…he's not a demon…


            "What do you mean?" Syaoran asked slowly, confused, "…didn't you see his wings?"


            "See what?" Nakuru asked, mentally wondering how stable Syaoran's sanity was.


            ...she doesn't know about Eriol's wings...she might not even know he's a Seraph! Syaoran stared at Nakuru for a few moments, ...Eriol probably didn't tell her... he quickly glanced away.


            "See what?" Nakuru asked again.


            He decided it was best not to dwell on the subject, just in case.


            "Nothing." Syaoran mumbled and raised the cherry-blossoms to his nose, softly smelling the alluring fragrance...it had a sweet, yet freshly delightful scent—


            Syaoran's eyes slightly widened, remembering when Eriol had caught him in his arms, Eriol sort of smelled like...this... Syaoran glanced at the cherry-blossoms wondrously.


            An unwanted blush crossed his cheeks. He was embarrassed by the fact that he still remembered what Eriol smelled like. Hell, he still remembered what his lips felt like!


            "Ne, what's wrong?" Nakuru asked, noting Syaoran's flushed face with an arched eyebrow. He had turned several shades of red...


            Ignoring her question, "Just take me to him," Syaoran looked at the black cherry-blossoms in his hand with a slight frown, "…I've got a lot to ask him anyway…"


            "All right...just don't try to kill him or destroy any part of the mansion again, all right?"


            Keeping the cherry-blossoms in his possession, Syaoran glanced at the picture of Eriol before Nakuru closed the book. There were a lot of unanswered questions…and they all were connected to Eriol, the Puppet-master. That title matched him well, but…


            Eriol, the Fallen Seraph. Eriol, a Follower of God.


            ...those titles were too ironic to be considered true...there was too much about Eriol's past that Syaoran did not question...


            ...but things are different now.





            Confessing the book and item she had given Syaoran, Kaho fell silent, waiting for a response, a reaction…


            Yet Eriol could only stare; his lips and jaw muscles slightly, ever-so slightly, tightened. He felt his mask slipping…he tried to keep his eyes from narrowing, he tried to keep that damned smile on his face…


            "...Kaho-san, I must be honest with you..." failing at one goal, his eyes had narrowed, but only faintly, "...I'm not very...pleased...with your attempt..."


            "I was not attempting to open the past for him. I'm attempting to make YOU open your past to him yourself. He'll figure out some parts…and you will be forced to tell him eventually," Kaho corrected, glancing at him for a moment, "...if Li-san truly is your apprentice, if you truly have faith in him...then you would have—you will tell him."


            "The past has nothing to do with the future." Eriol remarked, hoping he didn't sound curt.


            "Ah, but it does. The past made you what you are now-are you worried that he will abandon you if he knows what you truly are?" Kaho asked, a slight note of challenge drifted in her words.


            Eriol's eyes slightly darkened to a deeper shade of gray, yet a cool smile played upon his face, "You don't understand, Kaho-san. I have every intention, every hope, on him leaving me."


            Kaho's eyebrows quirked with silent inquisition and surprise.


            "...if he is successful with the Fusion, not only will there be a possibility that he can easily overpower me, but I will also let him return to Heaven," Eriol smiled, somewhat satisfied when Kaho's eyes widened and her mouth slightly dropped, "even though it will not benefit me, I hope he is successful."


            Kaho composed herself to the best of her ability, "...those...those are very...high stakes you are risking, Eriol-san."


            "He, too, risks a lot. More than I do, in fact. I suppose he and I like to tempt the vicissitudes of life." Eriol remarked with an amused smile.


            Kaho cleared her throat, her eyes narrowed, "...a lot depends on you and your powers, you know that, don't you?"


            "I know," Eriol replied quietly, closing his eyes, "...and frankly, I do not care."


            Kaho sat in silence, staring at him with eyes of intense scrutiny.


            Eriol opened his eyes, "But I was never one to leave a game unfinished," he said, looking at Kaho with an unreadable expression, "and I was never one to lose a game either. Do not worry, Kaho-san, I take mind to my duties."


            "Heh, and how is that?" she asked, almost spitefully, "You are not even able to keep your own feelings in check! And because of that, you are losing your power; your abilities…under the circumstances, I hope that Li Syaoran will fail or die. Because the way things are going now, you are the one that will most definitely fall. His altered power is increasing rapidly...I can feel it. And I'm sure you can feel it, too. And if you train him to grow stronger—"


            "—then he will be more powerful than myself? Ironic, isn't it?" Eriol finished, with a small laugh, "...things would get quite interesting if that were to happen, ne? And this conversation looks just about done..." he was trying to politely make her leave.


            In his weakened condition, stressful company was not necessarily a welcomed thing...


            Kaho almost felt helpless against the profound gentleman.


            Her eyes averted to the door, "...but I'm afraid you may have forgotten one detail though, Eriol-san."


            "And what could that be?" Eriol's eyes also averted to the door.


            He and Kaho felt two approaching auras...


            "Li-san's feelings are not in your control. They never have been and they never will be." Kaho said as she stood up from the chair.


            "Li-san's feelings are his own responsibility-of course, I know I cannot control them. And so I will not pay any mind to them."


            "Oh, but you will take them in careful consideration. Even though you disregarded my feelings for you..." Kaho paused, "...Li-san is different, isn't he?"


            Eriol stared at Kaho with a cool, inscrutable expression, "What makes you think that? Have there been any such evidences?"


            Kaho slightly cringed, her eyes slightly gleamed with hurt and jealousy, "...remember when Li-san was fighting against your Guardians? And when he won...you smiled. You smiled for him..."


            Eriol listened, though with some doubtfulness. He ALWAYS smiled...what makes one time so different?


            Kaho let out small laugh, almost bitter, yet it sounded somewhat satisfied, "...and the funny thing is...I never, in all my centuries of knowing you, I never saw you smile like that...you never smiled like that for me and I know you probably never will. It was then that I realized that Li-san...was different to you. He isn't only just an apprentice...he is worth much more," Kaho looked at Eriol, straight in the eyes, and softly smiled, "Even though it was not I that caused it, but...it was...it was very nice to see you smile like that, Eriol-san. I only wish I had the power to make you smile like that, but it seems that Li Syaoran is the only one that wields that ability."


            Eriol could not find his tongue and only was able to blink. For some reason, his mouth went dry at the very moment…


            "If Li-san chooses to actually love you like I had loved you-what are you going to do? You may have fallen for him, but if he falls for you, this will not have a happy ending; unless that Fates pull a few strings for the sake of such a forbidden relationship," Kaho murmured, then glanced at him, "and you were never one that was favored by the Fates, now were you."


            She let out a soft sigh before turning her back to him, "...I will take my leave now. Until our appointed date...sayonara, Malicifer-san."


            With that, Mizuki Kaho, the "Temptress of Sin", General Ferusinne, disappeared; a soft, almost inaudible "take care" was heard from her before she left his realm.


            "...take care?" Eriol murmured to himself, moving off the bed carefully, "...there's really no fun in that..."


            Eriol reached for the new black cheongpao that hung on the chair. His other one was most likely ripped, tattered, and soiled.


            "…it was very nice to see you smile like that, Eriol-san. I only wish I had the power to make you smile like that, but it seems that Li Syaoran is the only one that wields that ability."


            Taking the words into consideration, Eriol paused before carefully slipping his sore arms through the long, silk sleeves. The silk stroked his skin like sweetly gentle whispers and caresses, but his body took no comfort and still screamed out in agony. Specifically his spine, since it seemed to crack under the heavy weight of pain.


            …but there a small smile on his face as he felt the auras getting closer to his bedroom.


            I suppose, in some ironically twisted way, Syaoran is the only one…funny, really…





            Walking down the black marble corridor, Syaoran was mentally kicking himself as he followed Nakuru.


            ...I'm such an idiot. I should've known Eriol was a seraph, or at least SOME kind of celestial being! Syaoran thought, recalling a number of past memories, …after all those times...and even from the very first time I met him, I KNEW there was something strange about his aura...And that other time…

            "Damn you!"

            "Too late. That has already been done centuries ago. "


            Chikusho!! That was so OBVIOUS! How could he be damned if he was supposedly a demon in the first place? Argh! How. Could. I. Be. So. Stupid?! Syaoran mentally kicked himself with each word, but frowned ruefully when he recalled another memory. ...and the time he held me in that prison... Syaoran's eyes slightly narrowed, but not with hate or anger.


            The warmth of Eriol's skin seemed to be more effective than the white energy he used. Syaoran blushed at that very thought, vainly trying to keep on the subject of mentally scolding himself. Seriously! How could I be so blind all this time?


            As if it were a response, a single image passed through Syaoran's mind. The time when Eriol held out his hand, a kind smile on his handsome face, as he offered his assistance. Soft gray eyes framed behind thin-framed glasses and that damned, habitual smile was there…but—


            Holding out his hand, Eriol offered Syaoran his assistance with a sincere smile, "Need help, my kawaii angel?"


            —it was a genuine smile…it was then that Syaoran really noticed the soft, yet defined contours of Eriol's face. It was with that sincere smile that Syaoran had fully taken in Eriol's virile beauty...and that image would be forever etched into Syaoran's memory.


            It was just a simple memory, but it was enough for Syaoran to recall the strangely foreign and evocative feelings that made his heart race, that made his very soul tremble and that caused warm shivers to run down his spine.


            Syaoran frowned with uncertainty and swallowed hard...those feelings affected him physically, note the damp palms and speeding pulse, and spiritually, note the rise of aura. And it was the consistent blush that betrayed him every damned time. Yes, those feelings were getting to be quite a problem...


            But the real problem was that...Eriol is the one that triggers those feelings...


            Nakuru stopped in front of two double doors whose dark-colored wood had a collage of mythical creatures carved onto it. She was about to knock on the door, but…


            ...the door opened and a soft light spilled out into the hallway. The soft light was enough to frame Eriol's figure and turn him into a semi-silhouette.


            "Why, hello." Eriol greeted the two with a flawless smile. He obviously had expected their arrival.


            "Eriol-sama!!" Nakuru's eyes grew big and tear-filled, a trembling smile on her face. It was as if she hadn't seen him for a few weeks instead of few hours.


            Eriol smiled at her before letting his eyes rest upon Syaoran, who was staring at him.


            They stared at each other in silence as Nakuru rambled on about how worried she was about Eriol being alone with 'the evil book-giving witch'. It was a solitary moment between them, just those few seconds...a conflicted mix of gray and brown. The unanswered questions kept them apart, but strangely brought them together...


            "—I was so worried about and, and, and—I'm happy now!" Nakuru was in a frenzy of relieved happiness and wasn't able express herself in the most eloquent manner. She flung herself toward Eriol, but Syaoran caught her arm and held her back.


            Nakuru jerked back from the momentum. She whipped her head around, looking at Syaoran with a bewildered stare.


            "Don't touch him." Syaoran said.


            Nakuru, as well as Eriol, looked at Syaoran with blinking eyes. For a moment, just a brief moment, Nakuru thought that Syaoran was being protective...perhaps it was simply a momentary trick of the mind...


            "He's wounded, remember?" Syaoran said to Nakuru, but was looking at Eriol with a silent, almost haunting gaze, "you're hurt pretty badly, aren't you." a statement, not a question.


            Eriol smiled as he adjusted his glasses, "I'm quite all right, but we should really worry about Nakuru-chan."


            "Huh? Me?" Nakuru blinked, pulling her puzzled gaze away from Syaoran.


            "Nakuru-chan, you haven't slept at all, have you?" Eriol asked.


            "Well…yeah, but I'm all right. And you're hurt so—" Nakuru faced her master and her head met Eriol's touch, his two fingertips were pressed against her temple.


            "I'll be fine," Eriol smiled at her gently, "thank you."


            Nakuru was only faintly aware of the sweet waves of energy that flowed from his soft touch…the book slipped from her hand, her eyes drooped to a close and she wasn't aware of her Eriol's arms around her as she slipped into the darkness of sleep.


            Eriol caught Nakuru as she seemed to swoon to the floor, almost as gracefully as a maple leaf. Having one arm around her shoulders and the other under her knees, he carried her into his bedroom.


            "Why did you do that?" Syaoran asked, picking up the book from the floor as he watched Eriol warily.


            Placing her on the bed carefully, Eriol then pulled the soft blankets over her body and up to her shoulders.


            "She needs some rest," Eriol remarked casually, though he had other intentions as well, "and you need some fresh air."


            "No," Syaoran stared at Eriol's back with a scowl, "I need answers!"


            "...I know," Eriol faced the brown-haired angel, a placid smile on his face as he asked, "Why don't we go for a walk?"


            "A walk?" Syaoran scoffed, amazed, yet thoroughly annoyed how Eriol could brush off the subject so casually.


            "Yes. I believe some fresh air in the Garden will do you some good." Eriol replied serenely as he turned away from Syaoran and looked toward the large mirror on the wall across the room from him.


            Syaoran stormed over, grabbing him by the shoulder and forced Eriol to look at him in the face, angry brown eyes met unflappable gray ones, "Look, Hiiragizawa, I'm in no mood for your—your games! I want to know how I'm still alive. What did I do? Or was it you that did something?—and what is this?" he held the book up, "what do you have to do with Leptesca?"


            Eriol simply stared, digesting all the questions that the angel presented to him in a breath. Though he seemed completely unruffled, inside he was broken down with thoughts.


            …my games…oh, yes, it was all games in the beginning…


            Syaoran scowled, waiting with waning patience.


            …but it seems they are no longer games, unfortunately… Eriol thought, feeling himself slowly melt into the dark brown depths of Syaoran's eyes, …I wonder…what it would feel like to be touched by him not like this… Eriol was aware of Syaoran's rough, tight grip on his shoulder, …but to be touched gently…


            Eriol simply smiled in silence. He didn't trust his voice at the moment.


            "Eriol!" Syaoran exasperated, "Plan to answer anytime soon?!"


            "...Eriol?" Eriol murmured, his eyebrow slightly arched. Of course, he didn't mind his given name being used...and he did like how his name rolled off quite smoothly from Syaoran's tongue...


            Blushing at his mistake, "I-I meant Hiiragizawa!" Syaoran quickly let go of Eriol's shoulder.


            Eriol took the book from Syaoran's hand, leafed through it and found Leptesca's picture...he froze.


            He felt enchanted by the picture...strange. Something wasn't right or normal about this book...but before he could think coherently any longer, his hand had found its way to the picture.


            Eriol gasped as his fingertips came into contact with the picture. The world around him shot to black and he felt the ground beneath him disappear...


*-----*-----*

            Slowly awaking from deep sleep, Eriol was greeted with a soft rag as it patted his forehead and cheek.


            "So you finally decided to wake up, hm?"


            It had been six days since she had found him barely alive in the river of Styx.


            He shifted his eyes toward the green-haired woman that sat on the edge of the bed he was lying upon. His vision was unnaturally obscure…blurry…he blinked, but to no prevail.


            "You're half-blind now," she remarked, "an after-shock of a chi blast must have damaged the retinas of both your eyes."


            Eriol looked away to the ceiling, biting down on his lower lip so his frown wouldn't surface. A handicap was that last thing he needed.


            "Don't fret about it," she said, "I've already made you glasses, see?" she held up silver-rimmed spectacles, "and I think these will make you look more distinguished anyway," she said airily, "and you have such youthful features. You make me feel somewhat old..."


            Eriol gave her a weak smile for the sake of her joke. She was trying to cheer him up. Something that he didn't expect her to do.


            "I can't heal you since, well, my black magic won't have any effect you—I guess I'm only useful if you want me to kill you. So your only other option is to let your wounds heal on their own—so you're stuck in bed for a few days. If you get out, I will kill you myself to put you out of your misery, understood?" her voice was stern, almost like a mother's.


            He cleared his throat, "...why won't you...kill me? Why..." he trailed off, finding that his mouth was dry.


            She paused, regarding him silently.


            "Because I can think of better uses for you, why else?" she replied as she put the edge of a teacup against Eriol's lips, "here. Drink."


            However, Eriol hesitated to drink. He turned his eyes toward her, only able to see a fuzzy outline, but amazingly the yellowness of her eyes was still perceptible.


            "Still not accepting your fate?" she asked curtly, "You were damned, stripped of your title. You are also a 'Fallen' since your faith in God ceases to exist," she remarked, "believe me, you would much rather stay in Hell than try to go back to Heaven, don't you agree?"


            She didn't seem to care for his answer and she continued, "When I was up there in Heaven with you, your asceticism seemed pretty stead-fast...until the last minute. What happened?"


            Eriol couldn't seem to reply, and so she continued, "I didn't expect you to even consider the 'blasphemous' words that I spoke. I didn't expect you to actually go against the rules and study the sciences...I didn't expect you to reason and debate against your own faith in God...but you did."


            Eriol didn't know whether to feel ashamed or not. Yes. He DID study the sciences in Heaven. That was forbidden; unspeakably forbidden. He had notebooks filled with information on science. And he was proud of them. He loved the forbidden sciences. He loved how it was gravity and not God's aura that kept them down on the ground. He loved how it was photosynthesis that made Sakura-trees bloom and not God's power.


            He loved science. And it was because of HER that made the doors open in his mind. It was because of HER that he fell in love with science. And it was this love and understanding of science that made him re-think his supposedly unshakable faith in God. And that was the reason why everyone turned against him, even though he was supposedly an honored Seraph among them.


            Eriol almost found it funny how quickly friends or admirers could turn face so quickly and easily.


            "I have to admit, that was quite remarkable of you," she remarked quietly, "I never expected a Seraph like you to think for yourself, much less...save me. Anyway," she said quickly, "Drink." She said again as she slightly tilted the cup upward.


            In Hell, he would be considered an intellectual to be reckoned with. In Heaven, he would be nothing more than a seraphic abomination.


            This time, Eriol did not hesitate and let the warm, sweet liquid enter his mouth. She inwardly smiled.


            "I hope you won't mind me going on with my plans though…I plan to execute the Celare-Vincere in just a few more days," her eyes gleamed wickedly, "and Heaven will fall to my feet. And I must say so myself, I'll look quite lovely standing on the pedestal of victory."


            Eriol already knew of her plans. She had told him in Heaven about it when she was bound in shackles. She had told him these plans and strategies just to spite him...but yes, he had mused and looked for mistakes in her plan...but he couldn't quite remember what he had wrote or found...too much had happened and all he wanted to do was sleep.


            As if reading his mind, she leaned down, her face faintly clearer, and kissed his forehead, as if he were her little brother, "Rest," Leptesca whispered, "and tomorrow, we will decide what to do with you."

*-----*-----*


            "E-Eriol! Eriol!"


            Still in daze, Eriol couldn't piece his mind together as easily or as quickly as he wanted to. He kept his eyes closed, trying to gather himself.


            He heard Syaoran curse...was that a note of worry in his tone?


            ...but before he could brood about it any longer, Eriol felt a gentle, a torturously tender touch rest on his chest...


            ...he then felt an energy he had not felt in centuries. Healing white magic. Soft, sweet waves of positive energy emanated from the warm palms, flowing across his skin like soft folds of silk; sinking throughout his body and gracing the marrow of his bones. It was a wonderfully warm, comforting feeling that numbed the pain but lightened the senses...


            Eriol opened his eyes, finding himself lying on his back. He averted his gaze from the ceiling and shifted his eyes toward Syaoran, who was sitting beside him, his legs folded underneath him neatly and his palms pressed against Eriol's chest.


            Syaoran's eyes were closed in complete concentration as he tapped into the gentler, benign chi within him and pulled it out. He felt the energy slowly flow from his chest, through his arms, and out his hands. Sweat slightly began to glisten on his forehead, but he had a soft, almost invisible golden glow that outlined his meditating form.


            Syaoran looked so angelic, so ethereal...And even that was putting it mildly.


            Eriol was only half-aware of the wounds on his back beginning to tighten and close together. He was captivated, absolutely spellbound, by Syaoran's tranquil form. The beautiful angel was willingly giving him his energy...and such a powerful, yet amazingly gentle energy it was...


            Syaoran focused himself, tapping into the deeper depths of his chi for the sole purpose of mending Eriol's aura. He felt himself getting tired, but this only caused him to search deeper, pull more of his energy out, and let it heal Eriol's damaged body...


            ...with a slight jump, Syaoran snapped out his trance when he felt a hand close on top of one of his. He opened his eyes, feeling himself resurface from the depths of meditation. He glanced at his hands on Eriol's chest, finding that Eriol's hand...was on top of his...


            Syaoran glanced at Eriol, who had a soft smile on his face. And it was real. Just like the last time.


            Syaoran felt his heart pounding rapidly against his rib cage.


            "Thank you." Eriol said quietly.


            "Erm," Syaoran blushed a vicious shade of pink and he quickly removed his hands from Eriol's chest, averting his gaze to the mirror, "yeah, w-well, don't faint like that next time!" he said snappishly, yet only hoped his voice didn't sound squeaked or high-pitched.


            Eriol sat up, grateful that his body was no longer suffering from the wounds.


            "…are you all right?" Syaoran asked in quiet tone, almost as if he was embarrassed to show his concern.


            "Daijoubu," Eriol nodded, "…how did you know that white magic would work on me?"


            "You're a Seraph."


            "A Fallen one." Eriol corrected quietly.


            Syaoran stared at Eriol for a brief moment, "…why didn't you tell me before?"


            Eriol closed his eyes, his smile lingered on his lips, "It's not a subject that I like to bring up…" his smile disappeared for a brief moment, "…I usually try to disregard what I am…or what I was…" his flawless façade-of-a-smile returned, "and it's really not that important. It certainly won't help you with your training!"


            "Don't change the subject," Syaoran glared, "what do you mean by 'what I am'? You use black magic….you have negative energy, but you have positive energy, too! What are you?"


            Eriol slightly cringed at that last question.


            "A demon? Or an angel?" Syaoran asked insistently.


            "...neither." Eriol replied quietly.


            "What do you mean? You can't be 'neither'! I'll still be an angel if that Fusion was a success or not!" Syaoran remarked. His stomach twisted into a knot from Eriol's answer. "And how did you gain both energies? ...you..." Syaoran's eyes narrowed slightly, "...you went through the Fusion, too, didn't you...?"


            Eriol let out a dry laugh. He looked at Syaoran, "No, I didn't, though I wish I did...Unlike you, I did not have the fortune to try out the Fusion. Too much time would have been consumed and so, I gained both energies through...other means."


            "...what other means...?"


            "Approximately, do you know how old I am?" Eriol asked.


            "Pretty damn old," Syaoran mumbled, "a few centuries, right?"


            "Yes, quite a few centuries," Eriol nodded, he held his breath for a few seconds and locked his eyes with Syaoran's, "...have you ever wondered why I never aged?"


            "Well...I never really cared...why should I?" Syaoran asked slowly, but deep down, he knew better...and his stomach, already twisted into a knot, seemed to tighten all the more.


            "I expected you to be more observant," Eriol said lightly, "You know, even immortals grow gray and white hairs, wrinkles and sagging skin through the years just like humans do," Eriol remarked, "but I...don't. I can't."


            "Why?" Syaoran asked between a breath.


            Pausing for a few moments, Eriol then stood up, "Come. I think we both need a bit of fresh air." He smiled down at the brown-haired angel.


            "...a walk in the Garden?" Syaoran asked with a slight exasperation. Was Eriol trying to change the subject again? And what was so damn special about this Garden?


            "Yes," Eriol nodded, "I believe..." he glanced at the black cherry-blossoms by Syaoran's hand, "there's a certain tree you'd be interested in."


            Syaoran looked at Eriol for a few moments before standing up, "...all right. But if you faint one more time, I'm leaving you there."


            He smiled from Syaoran's curtness, "Well, to be honest, I didn't exactly faint," Eriol remarked, glancing at Kaho's book with slightly narrowed eyes, "Actually...never mind. I suppose I did." He could not let Syaoran touch that picture. Kaho must have enchanted it with a certain spell.


If he has to know what happened in my past... Eriol thought, ...I'll be the one to tell him.


            Eriol walked toward the large, oval-shaped mirror that nearly covered the entire bedroom wall, silver-threads decorated the edges in intricate designs, "Shall we, my kawaii angel?" Eriol motioned a hand to the mirror.


            "Shall we what? And will you stop calling me that!?" Syaoran snapped, slightly bending his head down, vainly trying to hide the blush that tinted his cheeks.


            "Go to the Garden," Eriol replied, "please watch your step." He then stepped into the mirror and disappeared beyond the glassy surface, the silvery face of the mirror rippled like water.


            "Oh, God." Syaoran groaned. He never liked suspicious contraptions such as those…he stepped toward the mirror with a hesitant frown.


            Eriol's past was so obscure...but Syaoran easily detected a darkness to it that even Eriol seemed to cringe upon hearing.


            Syaoran didn't understand why he felt such a need, such a desire to understand Eriol. To try to understand him is like wasting your life trying to figure out an impossible enigma...


            ...like wasting your love on someone that should not be loved in the first place...


            Syaoran shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. Hastily, as if to make a desperate attempt to rid himself of the thoughts that seemed to claw at him, he stepped through the cool liquid of the mirror and found the world beneath slip right from under him.



Author's Note:

            I apologize for not updating as soon as I had promised. Gomen nasai. ::sighs ruefully:: but lil' tid-bits got in the way and I broke my left arm, so typing with one hand really slowed me down. ::laughs sheepishly:: forgive me for my delays, onegai-shimasu! ^_^;

            Thank you for the reviews from the last chapter-I loved them! Domo arigatou!! And if any of you have questions, feel free to type them all up and send them to me, even through e-mail if you wish! ^_^ They are gladly accepted since they will help/remind me in the long-run, I'm sure. Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

Please leave a review!

~*~ Glossary ~*~

Datte: Yet still (thanks, Tam-san! ^^)
Ne: hey; right?
Suge: cool; wow
Daijoubu: I'm fine
Kirei desu: It's beautiful (thanks, Liu HuiYing! ^^)
Chikusho: damn it
Onegai-shimasu: please (formal)