Samyaza

For a moment, Eita stood frozen. Wings, Samyaza, a fallen angel? Then, the moment drew on a moment too long. Sammy, or Samyaza, put her hands on her hips. Her wings drooped and she pouted.

“You were supposed to run away there,” she said, “Are you just thick? Or am I really that unintimidating? Ugh, this is for your own good, you know.”

If ever the thought to turn and run had crossed Eita's stopped mind, that quashed it utterly. Whoever, whatever she was, she sounded a lot like Yua when she was upset, which was pretty far from any sort of existential terror. Not that it couldn't be frightening in its own ways, but it was just impossible to conceive of a pouty supernatural evil.

“Boo!” she shouted, “I'm a spooky fallen angel. Not the kind of person you'd give any sympathy, alright? So scram!”

Eita stayed rooted in place, now more confused than anything else.

“If you keep looking at me like that, you're going to get cursed,” she continued, not managing to say it with any conviction, “And that'd be a problem, okay?”

“I'm sorry?” Eita ventured. That was the most he could say, dumbfounded by the strangeness more than any dark revelation.

Sammy sighed heavily. She took off the circlet, and a moment later, the vast wings seemed to evaporate into mist as she stalked forward.

“Inside,” she said.

“Um, Sammy... Samyaza?”

“We finish this conversation inside,” she said. “I don't want you getting in trouble for being out on the roof on my account.”

She grabbed Eita's hand and hurriedly ushered him back town the stairs and out into the hall, which mercifully appeared to be deserted.

“So,” she said, “since you're not going to go away, you probably have a lot of questions.”

“A few,” Eita said. His head was swimming with them.

“You get two,” Sammy said, “That's what I'll make time for. And I don't have answers to the existential ones, so keep it focused.”

The swarming thoughts came together. Two questions, all about something that Eita wouldn't have believed had he not seen those wings with his own eyes a moment ago, an absurd premise in an absurd world.

She seemed like just a normal person. That's how the first question formed.

“Why did you fall?” he asked.

Sammy looked pensive.

“It's a long story,” she said, “but I said you could have two questions so I'll make it quick. The... thing that I, and the other angels I knew, served isn't what you'd think of as a god, not really. I saw through at least some of the lies, and had to flee.”

She frowned

“But you only have my word on that, so I'll understand if you don't believe me.”

“You think I wouldn't? Now?”

“I won't count that question against you,” Sammy replied.

Eita gritted his teeth, but he knew what he wanted his second question to be, more than any answer about what he'd seen or heard.

“Alright, then,” he said, “Can we talk again some other time.”

That seemed to be something Sammy hadn't expected, as she couldn't even remotely hide her surprise.

“Why?” she asked, “My problems aren't something a human should get involved in, and anyone without some kind of mutant sixth sense would probably think you were talking to yourself. There's nothing to gain.”

“Well,” Eita said, “This whole thing started because I thought you seemed really lonely.”

Eita winced realizing what he'd said, but for the first time, Sammy smiled in a soft, genuine sort of way.

“I should say no,” she said, “but I can't. So I'll say, hm... do you have a club?”

“Literature,” Eita replied, recalling that Yua was likely to demand an explanation when he made it to the club room.

“That's interesting, but lunch it is then. I'll talk with you then until you realize it's a bad idea, or get bored, or decide you'd rather spend the time with your friends. It'll be nice to not be totally alone in the crowd, just don't say I didn't warn you.”

“I won't,” Eita promised. “See you then.”

Over the next days, though Eita found the chances to take up the offer, he tried not to broach any unnatural subjects. Those questions, the promised long story, could wait as far as he was concerned. They talked, mostly, about what was going on in class, and Eita found bit by bit that it seemed the former angel knew less of Earth than he ever would have expected. There was just one time he asked something that touched on the other side of matters.

“So,” Eita asked, “Why were you out on the roof.”

“You know,” Sammy replied, “that most people can't see me. Or their eyes see me, but their minds can't notice me. So even though I mostly decided to stay at school so I could hide in a crowd, I've got a pretty unique place to go if I just want to enjoy the view.”

“That's it?”

“I guess I like flying,” Sammy said, “But I've been trying not to. They've started locking the roof, though. I guess somebody noticed one or both of us.”

Eita laughed a little then, and changed the subject.

That was Friday, and Eita looked forward to seeing Sammy again with the new week. He wasn't expecting what followed on Sunday. The weather was clear, and it seemed like a fine afternoon to take a walk. Any thought of errands to run in the process, like fetching ingredients for dinner was lost when, just after stopping to get a soda from a vending machine, Eita heard a strange clang high above.

He looked, and saw shapes wheeling in the afternoon sky. At first glance, he thought of birds, but the pair of forms were much too large, and, he realized, too human. As they clashed and reeled, Eita ran in the direction they seemed to be meandering, until he came to a shopping street over which they flew low.

One, he doubted no longer, was Sammy. She wore her horns, and bore a sword that looked like it was made of silver glass. Her foe was radiant, skin and clothes and wings white with filigree veins of gold, hair shining brighter and a halo around his head, over his eyes like a visor, brighter still. He bore the same sort of sword Sammy did, and as no one else looked up they clashed with a sound at once like wind chimes and a car crash.

Eita hurried their way, and saw the other angel, as he assumed it was, driving Sammy lower and lower, until at last, desperate to avoid being knocked into the crowd, she tried to break away with less than perfect care.

The angel struck Sammy and followed through, bearing her to the ground in a side alley with a mighty crash.

Still, no one else in the street stirred. No one else could see them or hear them. They walked and talked, and it was as though the battle in their midst wasn't even happening.

Eita heard a scream just before he came to the mouth of the alley.

There, the angel stood in radiant splendor, one foot on Sammy's chest, sword impaled through her right arm like a pin in a taxidermied butterfly, golden blood streaming from the wound.

“Are you truly so far gone that such a wound pains you?” the Angel asked, heedless of a human's arrival.

Eita didn't hesitate. He mustered his best form and threw the soda can right at the angel's head.

The can hit, hard enough and heavy enough that it would have been dangerous if it were a human. The angel didn't flinch... but it did turn, fixing its attention upon Eita.