Chapter 4: I want to be a Hero

 Chapter 4: I want to be a Hero

Five Days since the Battle of the Grey.

Abel furrowed his brow, the black haired sheriff looking down at the empty cages that lined the brick walls of the basement he stood in.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as the decay of the living assaulted his senses.

His target was here. Had, been here, along with his victims who Abel had now failed to save.

Again.

Abel opened his eyes, his hand holding a small teddy bear that was slick with crimson ichor already turning brown.

“I'm sorry,” Abel muttered, his heart threatening to explode from his chest as a tear fell from his face scrunching with rage. “I won't let this injustice go unpunished.”

“Sheriff?” A soft voice called from behind. “Sheriff Wright? Wright? WRIGHT!!”

Abel’s eyes snapped open, his vision pulled from his nightmare as his gaze settled on the woman standing over him with a scowl.

“Yes beautiful, how may I help you?” Abel said, relaxing in his hammock made of grass he had turned into twine himself.

“Did you touch my crap?!”

“What?”

“Did you touch my stuff?! Everything in my room has been moved!”

“By room you must be talking about that pigsty and by moved, you mean organized?” Abel said, raising a brow.

“It is organized! I know where everything is! Since you moved everything, all my stuff is out of place!”

“You don't complain when I wash your sheets, do your laundry, or clean the outhouse.”

“I’m always complaining! You have no right to touch my stuff!”

“Right? Maybe a thank you would be nice every once and a while.”

“Thank you for what?! Being nosy? Pushy? Touching my stuff without permission?! Waking up with you removing the sheets from beneath my body?!”

“Yet you enjoy the fruits of my labor all the same.”

“I don't enjoy anything! You're a neat freak that can't leave well and good alone! I mean, who the hell organizes squashes based on size, color, and weight?! You wash everything compulsively, always cleaning the silverware so I can't use, and are constantly stealing my clothes to clean! At first I thought it was because you were being a pervert, but it turns out you're just a neat freak!”

Abel blinked repeatedly, “So… you're mad because I'm… the perfect house husband?”

“Boundaries! It's called boundaries! Which you clearly don't understand!” Kane spat as her brow furrowed. “The next time you take the blankets off of me while I'm sleeping I’ll kick your ass!”

Abel frowned and sat up, “Look, I can't help it just like you can't help being messy and putting everything out of order. I thought we had an understanding.”

“Not when it involves my stuff!” Kane said.

“Fine, then pick up after yourself,” Abel shrugged, folding his arms.

Kane scowled, her teeth gnashing together, “You know I can't!”

“Then you know I can't stop cleaning, seems like we're back at square one,” Abel said, lying down in his hammock. “All we've got to do is tolerate it for a few more months and we'll be free.”

Kane growled, storming off as Abel sighed.

It's not like I want to clean. Abel said to himself, looking down at the silver bracelet on his wrist.

Much like how Kane was always messy, he was always clean. A symptom of their perspective alignments to Order and Entropy. Constant perfection and never ending change. Of course Abel hadn't always been like this, but since coming to this world all his perfectionist traits seemed to manifest more wildly as a constant compulsion at the back of his mind.

“Maybe I should apologize,” Abel said after sitting alone in silence for an hour.

He got up, walking across the field of grass and to the cabin where Kane stood in the kitchen dicing up squashes with wind magic.

“Sato,” Abel said, drawing Kane’s attention.

“What?”

“I'm sorry. I was wrong to touch your stuff without permission.”

Kane went blank at the apology; the woman froze in place, staring at Abel who eventually coughed to break the silence.

“That's… all I wanted to say,” Abel said before turning to go back to his hammock.

“Wait,” Kane sighed, “Take a seat.”

Abel raised a brow but did as told, sitting down at the tiny dinner table where a bowl of boiled squashes and a spoon were laid in front of him.

“You… didn't poison this did you?” Abel said, looking up at the woman from the bowl.

Kane nearly smiled, it was faint, but there, a slight twitch of her lip as she closed her eyes and exhaled.

“Eat before I regret giving you any,” Kane said, walking off into her bedroom.

“Sato, wait,” Abel said, his eyes on the soft squash. “Tell me, what did your God promise you when he sent you here?”

Silence, neither moving in response to the long-shot question asked by Abel.

“Freedom,” Kane said softly before leaving the former paladin alone.

“Freedom huh…” Abel said, turning away to his bowl and digging into the sweet-tasting vegetable. “Wow… this tastes awful.”

Abel ate in silence until Kane returned, the demon taking a seat across from him.

“So… I told you what I wished for, how about you? What did your god promise you?” Kane asked, looking at Abel with focused eyes.

“What you wished for? You gave me an incredibly vague answer, woman.”

“Just tell me what you wish for!”

Abel smiled, “Oh? Suddenly curious about me?”

“Not at all,” Kane replied flatly, “But… if I’m going to live the rest of my life on the run from higher beings, the more I know, the better.”

Abel chuckled.

“Sure, that's reasonable I suppose…” Abel tapped his lip with his spoon before breaking out into a wide grin. “I… wanted to be a hero.”

Kane blinked, “A hero?”

“A symbol to protect the weak. A shield against the horror. A knight in shining armor!” Abel proclaimed, suddenly standing up with his arms wide, grin on his face as his body began to shine with ephemeral golden power, “Abel Wright, the Hero that always does what's right!”

“Tch! Lame! Is that why you’re always making that crappy pun?! It's a motto?!” Kane laughed, only for her mood to shift as the light in Abel’s eye seemed to die.

“Lame? Sure. Stupid, no doubt. But… It’s what I wanted wholeheartedly. A world without pain. Without suffering, to be there to help those who couldn’t help themselves,” Abel sighed, slouching in his chair only to sit up perfectly straight a moment later, “But you know how that story played out.”

Abel sighed, the years of fighting at the forefront of his and Kane’s mind.

“Yeah, in the end we were both just pawns,” Kane said finally as Abel flashed yet another smile; however, there was no mirth or emotion, just a cheap facade that the Hero of Order wore as a mask.

“Look, how about… a compromise,” Kane sighed, drawing Abel’s brow.

“Wow. A compromise-”

“UGH! Forget it! Forget-”

“No no! Wait!” Abel let out, grabbing the woman’s wrist as she made to leave.

“Don’t touch me,” Kane spat, glaring at Abel as he felt an influx of mana grow.

“I… sorry, speak your piece, Sato,” Abel said, sitting back down.

A moment passed, the air tense as Abel and Kane stared at one another until the demoness sighed.

“I won’t make much of a fuss about your cleaning and try to limit leaving stuff around if you can leave the items on my bed alone, INCLUDING taking the blankets off of me,” Kane said. “I’ll move what I don’t want touched on the bed, and you can handle moving everything else to your heart's content. Deal?”

Abel chuckled at the sight of the woman’s extended hand, “I thought making deals was an extreme stereotype for demons?”

“Seriously? Are you going to compromise with me or-”

“Fine! Fine. I’ll try and not touch anything that's on the bed,” Abel said as he reached over and shook Kane’s hand.