Broken - 7

A black so oppressive that even the stars dimmed within its all consuming gaze. For when I opened my eyes once more, tainted so by that expectation. I had expected death, the death of life, of personality, of… of… of something.

Yet when a hand reached out for me. Ash falling from the sky like some sort of rain that blew out that oppressive void. For with each touch I found myself entranced fully within those golden eyes of his. Or were they even golden.

For I looked deeper and deeper. Testing my own gaze within, looking at my own visage within his eyes.

An expectation. One of death. Not the cruel salvation that once again brought me life. A hand that reached out with that same intention, promising to me, not a death that I so deserved but a life unbecoming of someone such as me.

He was there. Once more. With a smile upon that absolutely gorgeous face of himself. Yet… yet as he saved me from certain death. Even now ash still fading from his hair. That golden green a testament of that demon. Who he had so gracefully killed.

And once more that smile rang in my mind. So… just so beautiful. Only I found myself… not even thankful. Merely depressed in the mercy I had been given.

So as I stood with his help… a curse… another… and another… For this was the second time - in a mere week - that I had been saved as so. 

I cursed. I cursed and I cursed. I turned my head back and forth. A shake for each and every failure of mine. 

'No… just let me be.'

Just let me die.

Please. But he did not l- My silent cries went unheeded, for I could not voice them properly. Not as he gripped my hand so tightly. Pulling me from that faded death of mine. A nihilism that told me to sit.

To stay still and let myself die, bleed out rather than take any help. For my life was already ended. An extension would not help. Rather it would be a disgrace. As I had failed time and time again.

Only to be given another chance. And now…

All of my thoughts were ignored. A forceful embrace as he stroked his hand against mine. I had been resistant, and even as he pulled me up. I still remained sitting in that depressive stance. 

But that was not enough. For with that very touch. He began a miracle. One that I had so dismissed as mere fantasy. 

Pain. I looked up. My face burning red in pain. Not for myself. But in silent tears that stroked down my face. It stung with salt that touched freshly healed wounds.

For the pain was within the saint. The angel that had took upon himself the wounds of my own. A silent grunt that spoke of so much more agony and suffering.

Why?

Please don't take my wounds… they are not yours, they should never be yours. As they are mine to bear, not yours, never yours. So please… just let me die. Let me fade away into obscurity within the confines of an empty grave.

A light that shone so darkly only to be blown away by the next wind. Yet that stubborn owner, my saviors, refused to let me die. Sparking the flames of light once more into my eyes.

I could feel my wounds fade with every second. The cuts and gashes, the pain in my muscles. Every single… every single one.

And as the sword was sheathed back within my grip. Within the sheathe at my side.

Just let me go…

As he hugged me and bore words of sympathy within my ear.

And I knew… oh how I knew, that he had experienced worse. That every wound of mine was trivial compared to the agony he had endured.

But I could not believe it.

I could not allow him.

So I stood on my own two feet.

"Leave me." I spoke.

That girl beside him. No, upon second look it was not some random girl.

But Aia, the kingdom's only so-called detective.

I sighed. Letting my breath be known within this frigid frost.

"Leave me be… just…"

I took my sword once more. Aura fading with my will.

Trailing in my words was just resignation.

There was, and never will be, use for this life of mine. So shall I go give it to another.

Who would appreciate their own much more than I would mine.

I would sacrifice this body for their own.

And so I went, beating boots against the ground. Against tideless currents of ice that threatened to restrain me.

They won. I was no match. With my will - once such a blazing pillar of success and will - now merely a shadow of its former self.

A mere sham to end the life of one that could have been great.

"Please don't leave. Stay by my side."

He spoke. Such warmth within those pouty lips of his. I knew… oh how I knew, that he was not doing that consciously.

For how could he. A blind man, practically a cripple. Who had never even seen his own appearance.

How could he leverage such a beautiful body, not even knowing the value of such a thing.

"Nope~" Aia spoke. Her voice was recognizable, if only because she was the only other girl. For I could distinguish the harsh tones of her sing song with the soft and gentle words the angel.

Yet speaking of which. I had never asked him for his name. Even if he had saved me. It was the littlest courtesy, to at least know the name of my savior.

No matter the unwilling determination to live within my soul. But I could tell that he knew.

And so I beat back on newly healed legs, hurrying with a slight break in my step.

"I never asked…" Shyly I scratched my cheek, "But I would like to know the name of my savior."

He smiled, looking straight within my eyes. Despite the murky appearance they made.

"Gabriel."