A/N: This picture was inspired by a piece of work on deviantART by janikol, and the piece is titled "Why can't we be together?" It's very beautiful, I recommend you search it and look at it before you read this fic. A part of it is used as cover art for this fic, as well, but it's much better to see the whole thing with all its details. (I may put a link in my profile, to it.)

This chapter is a prologue to what will be a short, but complete fic. (Around 2-4 chapters total.) It centers around the premise of Arthur being a magical creatures hunter, and Feliciano being an angel.

The entirety of this fic is already written, and segments of it will be uploaded every couple of days, so I have time to edit and add in some last bits before they're posted. This fic was previously posted on my Tumblr blog.

With that, I hope you enjoy!

Feliciano tried to flap his wings and escape, but no matter where he went, he was blocked. He was being weakened, drained of energy. There was a forcefield blocking his escape and draining away his power- this was…!

…an angel trap…

Feliciano's eyes widened in panic as he realized what was going on. "A-Artie?" Arthur's hand trembled briefly as he pulled out the blade, stepping into the small cage. Feliciano knew, at that moment, that he was doomed.

"W-Why would… someone w-want me… dead?" Feliciano whispered, in fear, as the pieces fell into place. He trembled, backing up against the invisible wall.

"Your feathers, of course. The most beautiful the world has ever seen, actually. You have a high price on your wings," Arthur hummed, stepping closer.

"No! You're lying- you-!" Feliciano's tears ran down his cheeks as he shrieked, "I trusted you! I- I thought-"

"-that we were friends? Sorry, love. You're another job of mine," Arthur interrupted. The lines were rehearsed, well-practiced. He had said them many times before, to his past hunts. That was always the plan. Find an angel, the target, a specific one if required, and befriend them. Lure them into a false sense of security, then trap, kill, and feather them.

Just another few steps, and the blade was plunged through Feliciano's stomach and spine, the blade dripping with blood as it went out the other side. Feliciano gave a pained cry, but didn't fight back. He must have known there was no use in trying. (Part of the angel's mind begged that this might still be a nightmare, and not reality.)

Instead, the angel wrapped his arms around his friend, and clung to him, weeping as he felt his life slipping away. Even now, he refused to stop believing in Arthur, refused to stop believing that they were friends. It showed.

"W-Why can't we just be together…? I don't understand, Arthur… Why?" The angel whimpered, crying and clinging to him even as he ran an angel blade through his torso. The anguish was visible in every fiber of his being, from his tearful eyes to his trembling body, the weak sobs and bloody coughs that wracked the small body.

"I-I thought we were friends, I… I…" Feliciano whimpered, quivering. Even now, with a blade through his body, he just wanted to be with Arthur. "…love…"

Arthur Kirkland could not bear to hear those words from his friend's mouth. He couldn't let Feliciano finish that sentence- not now. He couldn't.

And so, he wrapped his free arm around Feliciano's shoulders, and felt the angel relax and quiet down, voice trailing off feebly.

It was running out of breath, running out of energy, now. The rain was soaking them both, but he couldn't care, right now. Arthur lowered the weak body down gently, with more care than he'd ever given any of his hunts before. He held him carefully in his arms, and looked down at the angel's heartbroken amber eyes as they shut, feeling the angel's words stabbing him in the heart. As Feliciano's eyes shut, his breathing ceased and his body went limp, leaving Arthur to shakily lower the dead body to the wet earth and stand, looking down at his newest hunt.

'Why?' the angel had asked. As Arthur watched the ethereal, heavenly glow fade from the angel's body, he found that he didn't quite know anymore.

What was he doing?

Why had he... when had he become a person like this? A person capable of killing his best friend?

He shook his head, pretending the tears on his face were just more of the raindrops falling from the sky.

It was just another angel, he told himself. Just another angel, another paycheck.

So why was he falling to his knees now, tears staining his cheeks as he prayed?

Time had passed. He was- well, he wasn't going to lie- wealthy beyond his wildest dreams. Angel feathers sold for hundreds or thousands, after all, and that angel had so many… He lived comfortably, with everything that he'd ever wanted. He had gained all he'd set out to gain.

But sometimes, on rainy days, he looks at a few of the feathers he kept for himself, and wonders what he has lost.