The Shrine

The shrine was, as ever, a patch of green in a gray city. Scarcely half an acre, fitting nicely into the middle of a residential block, waited beyond the Torii gate, a modest patch of pathways and gardens around the main building and the few other structures that made the shrine a shrine. But, within and etiquette observed, the air always smelled cleaner, and the sun seemed to shine a little brighter while the bustling sounds of the city faded faintly.

It was no different now, but it didn't do much for Eita's mood, reeling from the story that Sammy had told on the way over. What he felt wasn't fear, it was rather something that was some distant cousin of confusion. He understood what her words meant, and followed everything that Sammy told him, but still stood unsure of how to react to it. What did a person do with that kind of knowledge? Eita suspected that there were many people who would have been afraid, who would have given anything to forget, to never have heard such a story was true. But for Eita himself there was something else, a sort of electric thrill of anticipation, like all these fantastical supposed truths were just the threshold of something else, a threshold that he'd step across in a heartbeat.

“We're meant to meet tomorrow,” she said, “me and the others.”

She named the place and the time, and Eita thought she meant to instruct him to avoid that exactly wrong spot at that exactly wrong hour.

Eita nodded as they sat on a bench on the grounds, side by side. As much as he wanted to see more of this world, it would be rude-

“Will you come along?” she asked.

At that, Eita could at least work out his feelings, because that was the last sort of thing he'd expected to hear.

“Do you mean that?” he asked.

“Whether I wanted to or not,” Sammy said, “I got you involved. Unless his halo censored it, which I can't think of a reason why it would, Raphael saw your face. He might not know who you are, and might not think that you're actually connected to me rather than being a foolhardy passerby, but then again he might.”

“And that makes me part of it,” Eita said, trying to reinforce the idea to himself. He'd gotten wrapped up in this foreign myth made manifest.

“Plus,” Sammy said, “Ignorance can be costly.”

She was staring fixedly into the distance at that, and Eita couldn't help but remember how she hadn't spoken to Haniel right away. It was clear as day that an angel could feel guilt just like a human could.

“Well,” Eita said, “I'm looking forward to it.”

Sammy didn't respond right away, leading to an awkward silence.

“Can I ask,” Eita said, “what kind of people your friends are?”

“Ah,” Sammy said, “Well, we'll probably have to make new introductions since I don't know what human names they want to adopt, but you can probably rely on Azazel and Jeqon. Jeqon is young... well, as an angel, he looks older as a human than any of us. But he's young and outgoing. Azazel, hm, how do I put it?”

“Put what?”

“I guess she's the kind of person you hope to have for a class rep,” Sammy said, “I don't know if I'm saying that right since I've attended all of one week of classes for real, but-”

“I get it,” Eita said.

“The other ones I'm sure about are Penemue and Gadreel,” Sammy said, “Gadreel will want to send you away for your own good like I did, so I'll talk to him. Penemue will want to keep you until she's poked and prodded enough to work out everything about how we got here, at least.”

“Sounds charming,” Eita said, as unconvincingly as he was unconvinced of any charm in poking and prodding.

“Don't hold it against her,” Sammy said, “she's like that with everyone. I remember when I first met her, watching over the forges, and realized we had the same flaw, she said she wanted to dissect me to find out what it was, but she'd never actually do such a horrible thing.”

Sammy sighed, and seemed even more crestfallen than before.

“Still,” Eita said, “If they're your friends, I'm sure it'll be fine meeting them.”

“Maybe,” Sammy said, “I just can't help but thinking that I considered Raphael a friend as well.”

The angel who had tried to kill her, and who had threatened Eita. Of course, from what Sammy had said, he still saw and heard what the Weaver wanted.

“Was he another Seraph?” Eita asked

Sammy laughed.

“No,” she said, “The opposite. He was a Virtue, albeit one of the oldest among them.”

Eita tried to ponder as much. Seraphs were strong, so Virtues were the bottom of the ranking?

Sammy seemed to intuit the questions Eita was thinking.

“Seraphs are about one in a hundred,” she said, “Ninety would be Virtues and Powers. The nine between would be Thrones.”

“So,” Eita said, “Raphael wasn't very dangerous as angels come?”

Sammy shook her head.

“I thought,” she said, “if any of them came for me, I could probably break their halos, but while Raphael caught me off guard, I don't think I'd be able to do much in the face of someone like Apollyon any more.”

“But,” Eita said, “you're a Seraph, right?”

“I was a Seraph,” Sammy corrected, “I knew the moment I broke my halo that I'd be changed. I'm not as strong or as fast as I once was. I can't do things I could do before, like manifesting fresh regalia. I'm not healing like even a Virtue would. I... can feel some of my old strength, like there's still something inside of me that's scaled to what it meant to be a Seraph, but I don't know it. I can't use it, any more than a human like you could use the strength of your soul to touch the physical world.

“Is your arm getting better?” Eita ventured. It wasn't much, but if the shrine was at least helping...

“It's still healing slower than I'd expect,” Sammy said, “and far slower than I'd like, but this is a good place. Thank you.”

“Don't mention it,” Eita said, “It's not like it's my family that runs the place.”

“That's right,” Sammy said, “It belongs to that Yua-chan you keep mentioning.”

Did he really bring Yua up that much?

“Her family,” Eita said, “but yeah.”

“Can I ask which one she is?” Sammy asked.

“Which one?”

“You said she's in the class,” Sammy said, “But it's not like I'm really a student. I didn't bother learning anybody's name or where they sit.”

“Oh,” Eita said, “Yua's the one in the front row, by the door.”

“Huh,” Sammy replied. Clearly, that wasn't enough.

“She's good at history and language and is always eager to be called on for literature questions?” Eita ventured.

“I... see,” Sammy said.

“She always has a lot of charms on her school bag.” Eita supplied.

“Oh, of course.”

Was she really too proud to outright say that wasn't enough? Yua was a good singer as well, but there was know way Sammy knew that, since she'd clearly only seen the back of Yua's head.

“She has dark brown hair, darker than yours but not black,” Eita said.

Sammy lit up.

“Oh!” she said, “the one who always has a cowlick?”

Eita sighed heavily.

“Yeah,” he said, “well, if you recognize her-”

“Over there?” Sammy ventured, pointing.

Sure enough, Yua had emerged from one of the outbuildings. She was dressed formally, but her hair was still the same mess it usually was. She was sweeping the path, but there was little doubt that she'd notice them as soon as she looked up for a minute.

“Don't worry,” Sammy said, “Remember, people shouldn't notice me unless they're freaks like you or something really overwhelming forces me to mind. Why don't you visit a little?”

Sammy had a sort of impish smile. She'd been well-mannered as much as they'd talked, but professed to enjoy mischief more than once and might have intended some.

The choice was taken out of Eita's hands. Yua looked up, and at once started hurrying over, so Eita obliged and waved to her.

“Eita!” she called.

“Yua-chan,”

“Eita,” Yua said, “Who's that with you?”

Eita turned to glance at Sammy. Her eyes were wide as saucers. If she'd meant some mischief, that wasn't it.