The Fallen

At noon on Sunday, Eita found himself in a desolate spot. The meeting ground was a patch of ground between some of the taller apartment buildings. It had been a park or a playground at some point, but it was clearly abandoned to disrepair as weeds poked through the concrete paths and old metal equipment over no safe ground was steadily overtaken by rust. Three sides of the area were barred off, two by chain-link fences and one by a larger building than the others that adjoined it, leaving only a lonesome path up an alley as the approach.

If Sammy hadn't been waiting at the entrance to that path, Eita might have missed it, since she'd been less than totally specific about how to get where they were going.

“Let me do the talking at first,” she said, “just tell me how many you see,”

Then, silently, she led him inside, and even in the middle of what was otherwise a beautiful spring day, it seemed like the shadows clung to every surface between the buildings while shafts of golden sunlight filtered into the desolation between them.

When Sammy and Eita got to the center, there were two people already waiting there. Eita, quietly, related the number to Sammy, as she'd asked him to do.

“It's the same as I see,” she said, “Seems like with your awareness, there's tricks to be had.”

One of the two there was an adult man. He looked Japanese to Eita, though he stood maybe as much as foot taller than Eita himself, and even beneath the baggy jeans and jacket he wore, Eita could tell that the guy was muscular. He wasn't standing at attention, but neither was he exactly casual, and his eyes fixed immediately on Eita and didn't leave as Eita and Sammy slowly approached. If Eita didn't know better, he would have thought the man was a soldier.

The other was a girl who appeared to be about the same age as Sammy. Like Sammy, she was kind of tall for a girl and had a bit of a foreign appearance, with blonde hair kept in a bob cut and green eyes with all the passion of a dead fish. Her clothes were a very conservative casual, almost deliberately drab, which seemed to fit the impression she gave of just being bored, whether with what was going on or just with everything.

Sammy raised a hand still a fair distance away and called out.

“Gadreel,” she said, “Penemue, I'm here. And I've brought a guest.”

Penemue shifted, from a casual slouch to slightly greater awareness, her bored stare regarding Eita, but Gadreel didn't budge.

“We said nothing about guests,” Gadreel said. His voice was stern, but not unkind.

“It seems like I'm not as unnoticeable as I once was,” Sammy said.

“Most parameters have fallen for me as well,” Penemue said, her voice somewhat raspy and overall dull, as though she didn't have a drop of emotion. “Overall scale of spirit remains the same, but-”

Gadreel cut her off.

“I can see that your circumstances are difficult,” he said, “But involving a mortal human seems like it wouldn't end well for either of you.”

“I thought so too,” Sammy said, “But this one probably saved my neck when I ran into Raphael, so I've got a responsibility now.”

“Alright,” Gadreel said, “I won't stop you.”

Penemue walked up, right up to Eita, closer than was comfortable. He started to back off, but she kept closing the distance.

“Fascinating,” Penemue said, “Did Samyaza reveal herself? Or do you claim to have registered her presence on your own?”

Eita started to compose his reply, but Penemue beat him to it.

“You saw on your own?” she said, “Do you have some pre-existing connection to The Weaver? Have you seen an angel, orthodox or otherwise, before? Have you been part of any spiritualist activities?”

Again, Eita wanted to say something, but Penemue seemed to hear the words before he said them and continued on.

“A strong sixth sense, but seemingly nothing truly abnormal. That's disappointing. Or perhaps troublesome.”

At that, Sammy stepped between Penemue and Sammy.

“That's enough,” she said, “You're making a lot of assumptions and not letting a friend get a word in edgewise.”

Penemue cocked her head, looking more quizzically at Sammy.

“I'm not assuming anything,” she said, “I asked questions, and received my answers.”

“This isn't the time,” Sammy said.

“I don't think she's joking,” Gadreel said, “Apparently our dear information sponge can read minds now. I suppose that counts as a demonstration. Boy?”

“My name is Eita Ikamai.”

“Ikami-san, then,” Gadreel said, “Was she correct?”

Eita nodded, “Very much so.”

“Mind reading...” Sammy whispered, “That's strange.”

“I'll save my theory until I have more evidence,” Penemue said, “Speaking of which, here comes some.”

Over a few minutes, more of the Fallen filtered in, and Eita put unexpected faces to the names he'd heard before. There was Jeqon, a lanky man even taller than Gadreel, with dark skin and dark, curled hair like none Eita had seen in person, and a manner just as jovial as Sammy had led Eita to expect. Then came Sariel and Yomiel. They could have been sisters, Sariel the elder and taller, both having elegant black hair and dark eyes. They spoke quietly, and while Yomiel looked like she belonged in middle school she seemed to be the more careful of the two. Finally, Azazel arrived. Like Sammy, she was wearing the uniform from Eita's school, though he would have believed her to be a college student instead. She had chestnut hair kept in a high ponytail, and a friendly manner. With each wave, introductions were made, including Sammy giving a brief explanation of Eita's presence

“I'm not the last one here?” Azazel asked, “I was worried, I got distracted preparing.”

“Preparing?” Sammy asked.

“The things I can do now!” Azazel exclaimed, “Where the Weaver closed a door, some merciful God must have opened a window, isn't that right?”

“Azazel-”

“I think I'll go by Azalea,” she said, “You wanted to use Sammy as your name, right?”

“That's right,” Sammy said, “but I was saying I don't understand what you mean at all.”

Penemue stepped up.

“The spiritual energy we used to perform the Weaver's miracles is still there,” she said, “The question is only how to use it. It seems the rest of us have figured out at least some application, some new channel? Have you truly felt nothing?”

Sammy shook her head.

“Maybe the scale of a Seraph's existence makes it more difficult,” Penemue muttered.

“Don't worry,” Jeqon said, “I'm sure something will come to you when you need it.”

“In any case,” Azalea said, “I'm not entirely surprised that Chazaqiel is tardy, but is Shamsiel late as well?”

“Maybe she's trying to hurry Chazaqiel along,” Sariel offered, “They were always pretty close.”

To that, the angels nodded all around, and Azazel – now Azalea – began to show off her plan. She seemed to pass things out to all the present fallen, and when Sammy's turn came, Eita looked over her shoulder.

It was a student ID for “Sammy Kamio”

“How did you manage?” Sammy asked

“If you really want to know, I'll demonstrate later. Right now what's important is that if we're going to live on Earth, we're going to have to live among humans sooner or later. So it's best to get this sort of thing out of the way. If anybody wants a different name, I can still fix things.”

“Penny Kamimoto,” Penemue read, “Did you give everyone such dire names?”

Azalea nodded.

“There's a character that binds us, that we have to answer to... but I'll save the speeches for when we have our full count.”

The next few minutes saw a surreal sight, fallen angels examining each others' ID cards and turning new names over in their mouths.

That was when a new figure staggered into the space. A young man in black jeans and a leather jacket over a blue shirt. He was limping, and Eita could see the stain of golden blood. Given how quickly Sammy had healed, either his wounds were far worse to begin with or they were well under an hour old.

“Chazaqiel!” Gadreel exclaimed.

“Yeah,” he growled, “That's me. Not so loud.”

“Chazaqiel,” Sammy said, “I'll ask what you've been through even though I can guess. But first... do you know where Shamsiel is? We though she was with you.”

Chazaqiel looked up.

“Shamsiel is dead,” he said, “Ramiel and his goons got her.”