Seraph | セラフ

The mountain forest is so still on rainy days like today. Normally birds and squirrels and deer and other creatures roam around the space, and bugs hum through the filtered light of the leafy canopy. But on rainy days, the animals of the forest stay in their dens and hidey-holes as the life-giving gift of water drips from the sky, pouring down from the leaves onto the grateful earth below.

Every creature great and small receives what it needs from the Star Power, the good and the evil alike, in this time of grace.

But it won't last forever.

I sit in a hidey-hole in one of the trees, probably a squirrel's nest at some point in the past. Sometimes I daydream about coming out here to live with a family of squirrels. I think I might make a better squirrel than a Star Warrior. Or at least a better daughter to a family of squirrels. I know I'm a bad daughter now.

After all, if I was a good daughter, I'd be at home accepting the consequences of my actions like a repentant soul should. And instead, I'm out here, hiding. I don't want to be switched again, even if I know I deserve it. Even if I know I'm bad. Even if I know forgetting to do the dishes when Father told me to was a sin.

This is why Mother and Father say my soul isn't saved. I know that. And I'm terrified about it. But no matter how hard I try to be good, it's never enough.

And I know hiding out here in the woods won't save me when the Star Power sends the Six-Winged Seraph to rain the fires of judgment upon the world. But maybe it'll save me from getting beat. Just this once.

"Child!" my mother's shrill voice screeches across the woods. I wince, shrinking further back into my hidey-hole. "Demon child, come here! Do you know how much trouble you're in right now, young lady? Your soul is covered in sin for running from your parents!"

I tremble and whimper despite myself, shoving my paws tight into my ears. As if not hearing my mother will somehow save me from my parents' wrath. As if it'll keep them from dragging me in front of the community and making me confess my sins in front of everyone, so they can all pray over me and beg for the demons that make me so bad to finally be removed.

But I don't think they ever will be. I've been prayed over at least twice a week as far back as I can remember, and I'm almost 10 now. And I'm still bad. And my soul still isn't saved. And the Star Power still hates me, and the Six-Winged Seraph will still come burn me to death with all the nonbelievers one day.

Believing isn't enough to save you, although that's what most of the heretics believe. You can only be saved if you're good enough.

And I'll never be good enough.

"Child!" my mother is so close and so loud now that I can hear her past my paws. "If you don't come here this instant, I swear to the Star Power we're sending you back to him, you horrible little demonic brat."

I choke back a sob, instantly moving my paws to cover my mouth instead of my ears.

But it's too late. Mother heard me. And she's getting closer. And the yelling won't stop. "I don't understand why the Star Power would curse good people like us with a horrible child like you. I don't understand why he—"

"I'm sorry," I sob past my paws, trying to block out her words. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'll try not to be sinful anymore, I'll try so hard to be good, I promise. I'm sorry, I'm sorry—"

My mother is just under the tree at this point, and the yelling won't quit. "—is why the Six-Winged Seraph is going to burn your soul forever and ever and beep beep beep beep beep—"

I blink in confusion as my mother's voice is steadily replaced by an almost-sterile machine sound of some sort. My vision goes blurry, the forest view from the hidey-hole slowly replaced more and more by a plain white tiled ceiling with a fluorescent light fixture set in it.

But even as my mother's voice vanishes, the beeping doesn't stop. I try to sit up, but my muscles don't cooperate.

"Don't sit up; you're not ready for that." Knight's voice suddenly speaks over the beeping, and I follow the source of both sounds. I find my muscles are strong enough to let me move my head, and I quickly see a blue Star Warrior with fully-white eyes standing at the edge of the bed I'm in. His gloves are closed tightly around a metal bar that stretches down about half the length of the bed, presumably there to keep me from falling out. I blink in slow confusion, looking further behind him at the machine that's still noisily beeping. A heartrate monitor, it looks like. At least, that's my best guess.

"Am I in a hospital?" I ask, lost. My voice seems to work, at least.

The blue Star Warrior gives a sigh of relief, turning to also look at the beeping machine as the noises slowly calm. "Yes," he agrees in Knight's voice a moment after. He turns to look at me again. "You almost died, Seraph. And then just now, your heartrate went crazy. I'd say I'm surprised they didn't come check on you, but they're pretty busy at the moment."

That's right. The war. I bet B-612 wasn't the only place that got attacked. And that means the memories of my mother yelling at me were just that—memories. A dream. I'm safe from her and Father now. I'm not a helpless little kid anymore.

But even now, I still feel like I'm dreaming on some level. I look around myself, taking in the hospital room. It's small, sparse, antiseptic. I'm a little surprised I have a room apparently to myself; I'd assume I'd be grouped in with a bunch of other soldiers.

Looking back at Knight, I comment calmly, "I've never seen your face before."

His face takes on a look of annoyance, and I have to smile despite myself. It's so strange to be able to actually see his expressions, but nice at the same time. "Anyone below officer level isn't allowed to wear identity-shielding armor in the hospital here at the Academy," he tells me. "Safety thing, which I guess I get. Still annoying, though."

His manner of speaking seems more casual, somehow, without the mask. This also strikes me as funny, but I try not to show it. "So why are you in here if it's inconveniencing you like that?"

He looks at me in visible disbelief. "Seraph. I don't think you understand. You almost died."

I try to raise my one glove, but find it rather immobile, probably due to the IV that's stuck into that paw. Raising my other glove instead, I wave him off. "Eh, I told you you're stuck with me. What, you saying that you don't trust me?"

He rolls his eyes, unimpressed. "On this particular front, definitely not." He sighs heavily, seeming to release some small amount of tension from his shoulders. "You're my backup, Seraph. I was worried, alright? And besides," he shrugs, "I'm stuck in here too for several more days. We're being quarantined since we came from off-base. Standard procedure, apparently."

"Gotta love procedure," I remark drily. He snorts. "Are you okay?"

He nods, but then tilts his head and squints, considering. "Physically, yes. Just a couple of minor burns; nothing like what you presented with."

I wave him off with my free glove again. "Eh, I'm sure it was nothing a nap and a good meal couldn't have helped."

His squint changes to narrowed eyes. A small change, but a change all the same. "Seraph, you'd managed to burn the inside of your lungs. I don't think you realize just how badly off you were."

I shrug, but immediately regret the action. My muscles are all sore and stiff. So instead, I redirect the conversation. "Besides physically, Knight. Are you okay?"

He keeps staring at me with narrowed eyes for a long moment, but his gaze finally softens and he stares down at the floor instead. "Mentally and emotionally, I think I'll be okay eventually. But for now, though..." His voice drifts off, and he sighs heavily before swallowing once. "I'd read about survivor's guilt. I had some idea what it could be like. But actually experiencing it is... not exactly what I'd called pleasant."

"Survivor's guilt?" I repeat, before suddenly all the memories of the day on B-612 slam into me like a farm truck.

The asteroid exploding. The knowledge that everyone else was trapped in the shelter.

All those Star Warriors, all 30 or so of them. Gone. Just like that.

And out of several strokes of luck, Knight and I made it out of there alive. When everyone else didn't.

"Oh," I say lamely. I close my eyes and inhale and exhale slowly. "Yeah. Survivor's guilt."

"They'll probably question you too, once you're better," Knight tells me quietly. "Just to cross-reference your version of events with mine and the data they got from the troop transport. Just... fair warning."

"Appreciated," I mutter, before sighing deeply and opening my eyes again, looking over at him once again. "You said we're on the Academy? How'd we get here? And how long has it been since... since everything happened?"

"Just a couple of days," he assures me, crossing his gloves and staring at the floor. "I put the ship into stasis mode once I realized you were dying, and told it to send us to the nearest significant Star Warrior presence. The base we ended up at wound up putting us in escort mode from outside the ship, and brought us here without taking us out of stasis. Their hospital was full."

My brow furrows. "You said it's busy here too. What happened?"

He shrugs numbly. "Major attack happened basically everywhere at once. As far as I know, B-612 was the only base or outpost that got almost completely annihilated, but... it wasn't exactly sunshine and rainbows anywhere else, either." He looks up at me and gestures to the foot of my bed with a jerk of his head. "Is it alright if I sit down?"

I nod once and watch as he does just that, letting his gloves rest limply on his feet, which dangle off the edge. He looks up, staring off into space ahead of him. It's so weird being able to see his face. I'd never really imagined what he'd looked like under the mask, so I'm not really surprised by how he looks; his appearance suits him. But being able to actually see it is still weird.

He finally continues, "I woke up when our ship was taken out of stasis mode; the ship's emergency first aid had almost completely healed me. But like I said, mandatory quarantine period, so I'm in here with you. My bed's on the other side of the curtain." He nods in gesture to a papery-looking piece of cloth that hangs from the ceiling across from him. "They questioned me, like I said. Other than that, we've mostly just been here, aside from them giving you emergency care and getting you set up." He looks over at me once more, and his gaze softens again. "I'm glad you're okay, Seraph. I was so scared you were going to die." He swallows slowly and looks away as his gloves clench into fists. "Then I would have been the only one left."

I hum in sympathy. I don't think I could bear that load, either. Even having just one other survivor from the base somehow seems worlds better than being the only one to make it out. Although it sounds like if it wasn't for him, I really would have died.

The efforts he went to to keep me alive do matter to me, and I appreciate them. And I probably shouldn't be brushing off just how bad my situation was; I know that.

But when you've almost died as many times as I have, at some point almost dying yet again quits carrying quite the same significance it once did.

"I'm glad we made it out," I say quietly. He nods a couple of times in agreement, but there's little energy behind it. "Hey, Knight? I mean it. I'm glad you survived."

He manages a half smile, but his gaze is still distant. Once again, he seems so old, somehow. "Thanks, Seraph. That means a lot." He looks over at me again. "I'm glad you survived, too."

"Thanks," I murmur, but apparently he's not done talking yet.

"You didn't have to risk your life for the letters, you know. You almost died because you were trying to save something of mine. I'm never going to forget that. But you didn't have to do it."

I stare at him for a long moment before sighing and closing my eyes again. "Like I said. I don't know why they matter so much to you, but I know they do. And I wasn't going to let you lose them."

"You were so much more damaged than they were. I can tell you were using yourself and your armor and cape to shield them. You risked everything for them." I open my eyes to watch him again as he shakes his head in disbelief. "And yes, they are essentially my prized possessions right now, and losing them would have..." his voice trails off, and he closes his eyes, clenching his gloves into fists once more. When he speaks again, his voice cracks. "Losing them would have hurt me probably far more than it really should, but it's still true. It means the world to still have them. Thank you, Seraph. Thank you for saving them."

I feel a little awkward, unsure of how to respond. "You're welcome, Knight. Like I said. I could tell they were important to you. I just... did what I felt like I had to do. And I'm glad I did."

"I'm glad you did too." He wipes the back of one glove across his eyes before looking to me once more. "What about you, Private? Are you okay?"

"Physically?" I wobble my free glove back-and-forth, signaling so-so. "Obviously I've seen better days." He snorts again, a tiny smile appearing on his face once more. "Mentally and emotionally? Eh. Like you said. I'll be okay eventually."

He nods, but then his gaze grows concerned. "You were having a nightmare before you woke up. Are you sure you're okay?"

I wince thinking back on it, and that makes me wince again at the physical pain the movement brings. "Identity topic," I mutter.

He nods slowly, but doesn't stop looking concerned. He looks away again. "About the 'identity topic' thing—"

"We both made a promise," I interrupt.

He raises his gloves placatingly. "I know; I know. And I'm not about to suggest we tell each other everything about everything. I don't think either of us is comfortable with that. All I'm saying is... We almost died the other day, you especially, but both of us technically. And we've been each other's backup for months now." He lowers his gloves one more, still looking right at me. "But we barely know each other."

I sit with his words for a moment before sighing. "Fair. You're right." I lean back into the pillow, staring up at the ceiling. "Okay. How about we both ask the other one question—but we have the right to deny answering that question, and let the other pick something else to ask about." Before he can answer, I add, "And I'm not talking about the bad dream. That's automatically off the table."

"Understood," he agrees, and falls quiet for a moment. "I need a minute to decide, then, so you can go first if you already know what you want to ask."

"I do, actually," I agree, looking at him again. "When and how did you get the Dimensional Cape?"

"That's two questions," he points out wryly. "But I'll answer both, sure. I found it in a river the day I saved my older brother from drowning."

"You have a brother?" I ask in surprise. He'd always struck me as an only child type, like myself. He gives me a bemused look, and I instantly correct myself. "Oops. Yeah. No more questions, sorry. So is your brother the one the letters are for?" I immediately roll my eyes to myself as I quickly repeat the same mistake I made just a few sentences before. "Don't worry, I'd smack myself if I could."

He laughs despite himself. "I'm not bothered; you've been out for days and you're pretty much drowning in pain meds at the moment, I'm pretty sure." He nods at my IV, still smiling, but it quickly fades. "Although... you risked your life for the letters." He looks up at me. "I think you've earned the right to know who they're to."

I shake my head the little bit I can manage. "You don't have to tell me."

"I want to," he insists. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. "They're to... well." He pauses for a moment, thinking it over, before exhaling slowly. "They're for... my best friend. And... I've never really said it out loud before, but she's also the love of my life." He opens his eyes again, but his gaze is distant. "Her name is Blossom. She's the dearest person I've ever met, and she means everything to me."

"So they're love letters, then," I say, smirking despite myself. "Knight, that's actually adorable."

A blush suddenly rises to his face, which is somehow hilarious, and he waves his gloves at me in denial. "No, they're not love letters." I laugh, causing his blush to grow, red quickly overtaking blue. "They're more... just an anthology of what I've been up to. The things I've gone through and the experiences I've had. I want to be able to share everything with her someday, and writing the letters... helps me make sure I don't forget anything. I want her to know about all of it."

I giggle a couple more times despite myself, but it fades as I can see his gaze quickly go distant again. "Why aren't you sending them, then?"

His eyes grow deeply sad. "She... disappeared awhile back. Just like my brother did years ago. And I haven't been able to track either of them down." He shakes his head slowly. "I know she's not dead; it's complicated, but I do know that with a good degree of certainty. My brother, on the other hand..." He swallows slowly, clearly holding back a lot of pain. "I have no idea about my brother. All I know is he joined the Army years before I did. He could be long gone at this point. I'll probably never know."

"I'm sorry, Knight," I say gently. And I am. I have no idea what losing a brother or a sweetheart is like, but I can imagine it must be horrible. I know losing Knight would wreck me at this point, and he's just a friend.

"It's okay," he deflects gently. He looks over at me again. "My turn to ask a question. How'd you learn how to fly a troop transport... and do whatever it was you said you did. Putting a Chromatica into orbit or something like that. Isn't that like, a luxury atmospheric model?"

I smirk slightly. "Yeah. Exactly." His eyes widen a bit, and I laugh despite myself. "Yeah, like I said the other day, I used scrap parts from a junkyard near Startropolis to get a luxury atmospheric ship up into orbit. It kind of set off the chain of events that led to me becoming a soldier." He's still looking at me in confusion, and I can tell he expects more than that, so after a long moment, I continue. "I was... homeless starting when I was 16, and living on my own. I taught myself how to fix and fly ships from books at the library, to give myself something to live for. My ultimate goal was to make it into orbit, and I managed that. After that..." my voice trails off. "I don't know what I would have done next if I hadn't ended up in the Army. But I'm here now." I close my eyes, thinking if there's anything else I'm willing to share along these lines right now. "...Being homeless, I had to fight to protect myself a lot. Hence being good with a baseball bat as a weapon." I open my eyes and look at him. "But yeah. I'm not a licensed pilot because I could never afford the classes or licensing exams. But I know how to fly ships in general, and a troop transport is less unlike a standard starship than you might expect."

His face is sad again. "16 is such a young age to be homeless at, especially if you were all alone. I'm sorry, Seraph."

I crack a small smile, but I doubt it's very convincing. "It is what it is, you know?"

"I guess," he mutters, although his face is still covered in sympathy. "I'm... glad the Star Power got you this far." I flinch deeply at those words, which makes him frown in confusion. "Seraph, don't you believe in the Star Power?"

The question sets off a panic response inside me, but I force myself to hide it as much as I can. I can't have this conversation. Not now. Not ever. "It's not that I don't believe in it. I just... don't think it's good."

His face takes on even more confusion. "Of course he's goo—"

"Knight. We're not talking about this," I snap.

He notices how I'm starting to tremble, apparently, because he backs off immediately. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Just... please don't bring it up again. And by it, I mean the St... the Sta..."

"The Star Power," Knight finishes for me gently.

"Yes. I won't talk about that." I blink back burning, angry tears. I hate that even now, I can't say its name. I can't bring myself to do it. I'm too unholy. I'm too evil. I know what my parents believed, taught me my whole childhood, was perverted and wrong and untrue. But the terror is still there that if I even speak its name with my wicked mouth, I'll face the fire and brimstone of judgment right where I stand. "Please don't bring it up around me again."

"I won't," he agrees, voice gentle even though he's still clearly confused. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," I mutter, still blinking the anger away. It's not his fault I've been so hurt. But I can't talk about it. I'm not ready to tell him. I might never be.

The room goes quiet for a long moment, before the door suddenly cracks open. A light purple doctor or nurse—I can't really tell which—wearing protective gear stands at the door, holding a tray. She looks at us in surprise, before a smile breaks out on her shielded face. "Oh, good. The Private's awake. That's so good to see."

Knight hops off the bed as she approaches, giving her space. He goes to hide behind the curtain while she sets the tray down on a small metal table at the foot of my bed that's just taller than the bed itself. "I've only brought food for the Corporal; I don't think you're ready for solids just yet, dear, but I'll bring you some water or juice if you think you can handle it."

It's weird. I know it must be because of the IV, but I don't feel particularly thirsty. "Water sounds nice," I agree all the same.

She smiles at me kindly from within the plastic garb covering her as she checks a couple of the machines plugged into me. "Got it. I'll have that for you asap, then." She frowns slightly as she scrolls through the data from the heartrate monitor. "Looks like your heart was racing for a bit earlier. We'll have to keep an eye on that; hopefully it's just a one-time thing." Turning back to the tray, she picks something up and holds it out towards me. "This is for you."

I accept the white envelope with red-and-white candy-striped trim that she hands me. She smiles at me again before turning and leaving the room once more.

As soon as she's gone, Knight comes back around the curtain again. He makes a beeline for the tray of food, but pauses as he sees the letter. "From the cop in Courage Province again?"

I nod as I look at the envelope, bearing the same address information as the parcel I received a couple weeks ago and the letter I received in reply to my reply not terribly long after that. I feel bad for not getting back to Maize and his family sooner, but, well, everything happened.

While Knight tucks into the food, I open the envelope and pull out the Christmas card inside, reading quickly through the small note and then smiling despite myself. "Hey, Knight?"

"Hm?" he answers around a mouthful of food.

"Deputy Maize and his wife have invited us both to visit for Christmas. It's still a few weeks off; I'm sure I'll be better by then. What do you think?"

He swallows the bite he had and squints his eyes, thinking about it. "...Honestly, that sounds nice. I haven't taken any leave since enlisting a few years ago."

"It does sound nice," I agree, already planning out the reply I'll write.

He's quiet for a long moment. "They know we're not a couple, right?"

My gaze snaps back up at him and I fake-gag. My reaction makes him laugh. "Of course, genius. Don't be gross."

"Hey, it was a fair question," he snorts, playfully jabbing his fork in my direction. "Last thing I need is a cop threatening to come after me if I break your heart."

I laugh. "Knight, my friend, absolutely no offense, but you're not even remotely my type."

"Good, 'cause you're not mine either. Also no offense."

"Absolutely none taken," I assure him with another laugh, settling back into my pillow and closing my eyes again. I know I've only been awake for a half hour or so, but exhaustion is setting in anyway. "I'm going back to sleep, I think."

"Get some rest," he agrees kindly. "I'll be here."

"You'd better be," I reply as the world goes blurry, and once again, I drift away.