The End of Fantaschiel!!

Deze lies on the floor, looking at the ceiling without a single thought in his head. The mess in his room is awful: an array of dirty trays, bowls and cups lying scattered around the floor amidst the sea of dirty socks and boxers.

Things haven't been the same. With a disinterested look, he picks up one of the books right by him. The cover portrays a couple of pretty girls dressed in skimpy outfits. Gothic lolita fashion, was it?

The title is Gates of Chaos. He briefly flips through the pages. Uaah. The plot is all over the place. Only someone like her could ever like this.

The drawings are beautiful though- he can kind of see why she fell in love with them.

He draws the book closer to his face. Yep, still smells like her.

With a light thud, the girl's manga hits the floor again, returning to the primordial soup of untidiness.

Things will never be the same. He can tell, even though it's only been two weeks.

He clutches his chest, the world of hurt still persisting within. 

"I miss her."

\\

Rentael readies his blade for a strike. The girl hangs her head, ready to bid farewell to her life.

“Wait!” Dezechiel yells, crawling over to the white-haired executioner on all four.

“What is it? You've held me up long enough as is.”

The defeated angel prostrates himself, bowing his head into the dirt. Or rather, the field of ice.

“Please… I beg of you… Don't kill her. Anything but that…”

Rentael sighs. “Is that all? Please don't waste my time with pointless requests.”

Fantastasia looks back one final time, smiling at the last ditch effort. It feels nice, having someone care for you that much.

The white-haired angel, ignoring the weeps and cries, starts bringing the sword down.

“Please… I love her, don't do this…”

Fan-Fan smiles. She can die happy now.

The blade stops a couple of centimeters away from the girl's neck. Or, as I like to call it, about one Richard.

“What did you say just now?” Rentael looks at Deze.

“Huh?”

“You said something really important. Repeat it.”

“Eh…?”

Rent storms over to Dezechiel, dragging him out of the mud of blood and tears by his hair.

“Don't play games with me,” he bares his fangs, “repeat it.”

He hasn't seen him this angry before.

“Please don't do this, I love her…” Deze recites with a scared look.

The white-haired angel lets go, dropping him back into a puddle of his own fluids like a rock.

…?

Rentael starts walking in circles with his finger to his chin.

“Huh? W-what's going on?” Fantastasia asks, somehow more frightened than she was moments ago.

Rentael tuts. “Whatever.”

“Eh?”

The blade disappears from his hand. He walks over to the flabbergasted demon girl and offers her a hand.

“You alright? Can you get up?”

“Ah, uh, yeah…” she fails to comprehend what's going on.

Only now does Dezechiel lift his gaze from the ground.

“What are you… doing?”

Rentael places his hand on the girl's stomach, then chants a couple of lines. The wound in her abdomen begins to heal at an absurd pace, fully closing within seconds. And this time, not just with ice.

“An angel can't interfere with another angel's mission,” he explains calmly while tracing the freshly formed skin. “What was your mission again, Dezechiel of Eden?”

“Eh? If I recall correctly…”

It's been a while. So long, he's almost forgotten.

If he recalls correctly…

Ah-

The realization hits him like a pro baseballer's pitch.

Rentael smiles at him. “That's right. Therefore, killing that girl would be a direct transgression. I apologize for causing trouble.”

Fantastasia, who has yet to be enlightened on what the fuck is going on, desperately looks from one angel to the other.

“Huh? What's going on?”

Rent turns to the girl. “Dezechiel, the empty-gazed angel. That's what he was called back in Eden.”

“Ok??”

“He's an angel seeking love. Cast to the ground to find it, so to speak.” A playful smirk forms on his face.

“Eeeeh?”

She looks over at her partner, flushed in every way possible.

Rentael walks over to his wounded brother. “Are you alright? Can you walk?”

“No and no. You struck me with The Blade of Azrael, dipshit.”

The assailant chuckles. “Aaah, I apologize for that. I guess that did happen. That being said, I'm very sorry, but I don't think I can heal this. You know, it being a sword that can kill anything and all that.”

“Thanks for your concern, but fuck you,” Deze slowly tries to get up.

The angel of renting smiles. “Well, seeing how you're capable of swearing, you'll probably live. Anyways, since you two have just confessed to each other, I shouldn't be the impolite third wheel. So, see ya.”

“You fucking-”

With those parting words, Rentael of Eden exits the stage.

Hmm. Well, this has gotten painfully awkward.

Dezechiel looks over at Fantastasia. The beet red girl is observing the floor with great interest. This may or may not have some level of correlation to the color of her face.

Being the man and all, the brown-haired angel decides to take the lead. He slowly wobbles over to the pink-haired girl, hurting with every step.

“Sooo…”

“Shut up,” she says, embracing him.

Fantastasia pushes her head into his chest, her eyes watering once more. This time, the reason is a little different.

As much as he'd like to appreciate the sentiment… ouch ouch ouch ouch ouch! He's got a massive open wound in his torso and she's pressing against it! And the salty tears feel almost like torture!

He chuckles though. Because all of that comes second.

Wrapping his hands around her waist, he gives her the sense of security she's never had. And maybe cops a feel.

“What do you think you're doing?”

“Ah-”

The girl looks away. “Well… not that I mind though.”

Holy fucking shit. That phrase is a one way ticket to heaven-

“...But, you know… I'd like to take things slow. It's still all very new and different for me…”

Deze caresses Fan-Fan's hair. “Of course, take all the time you want,” he smiles at her.

This statement is quite possibly his most dishonest one yet; he's not the type who likes to take things slow. That being said, he's a bit too scared of saying it out loud.

Fantastasia squeezes her fresh out of the oven boyfriend one more time. “So, with that out of the way… I guess we have to go fetch Lysterinn, huh?”

“Ah-”

Well, that one's going to be awkward.

\\

“Ah-”

Or not. The two of them find both the shady vampire and the lovestruck girl frozen in a massive block of ice. This is slightly troublesome.

Well, she technically isn't dead. They'll have to go over their legal contract with Elmax one more time, though chances are he's not going to be too happy about it.

This is exactly why you need to know a man like Taxel Fraudman- his network of connections is invaluable in times of legal turmoil.

And with that, after a bit of consulting by his good friend Saul Greatman and a period of harassment from Elmax's hired mercenaries, the whole Buddhapest incident was eventually swept under the rug as “a meteorology error followed by a weather disaster of unprecedented magnitude”. Fortunately for the Fantaschiel duo, two of the witnesses were unable to give testimony due to their frigid state, Hans von Lederkuchen was a name long erased from all legal books and Rentael isn't exactly known to drop by Earth all that often.

In the end, Dezechiel didn't grow his wings back; quite possibly due to the fact that his relationship was, in fact, with a demon. To him, the far greater issue was recovering from the life-threatening injury caused by The Blade of Azrael- and the fact that his health insurance refused to cover the costs of treatment.

So what is the Fantaschiel duo up to nowadays?

\\

Fantastasia storms the dirty room with a plastic bag in her hand. “You fucking slouch…”

Dezechiel, lying on the floor heaping with used laundry and dirty plates, wakes up from his midday nap.

“Ah, Fantastasiaaaaa-” he moans.

“I told you to keep it clean in here, jeez.” She picks up a few days old food container, then almost pukes when she smells the contents.

“It hurtssssssssssss…”

“What hurts?”

“The peritonitis,” the angel whines like a little child. Turns out the blade used by the Angel of Death isn't exactly known to be sterile, and so, Dezechiel caught a bad infection.

“Got you something for that,” she says, tossing the bag at her partner. Due to her lack of aim, she hits him on the chest, followed by a bout of writhing in pain.

“Thanks,” he powers through the pain to deliver a half-assed response.

“More importantly, did you read Gates of Chaos?” her eyes turn to stars.

“Ehm, you could say I checked it out,” he admits.

“Wasn't Mezeria just the cutest? And those dresses, I love them soooo much!” The lass goes on ranting about the girl's manga all by herself without any input from the angel. It almost feels like she just wants to mouth off about it rather than discuss it.

“...So, what did you think?”

“I have a suspicion you like it because the protagonist has a similar name to yours.”

“Eeeeh, it's not only that,” the girl taps her index fingers together, “it's also that she ends up with a tall, slim and mysterious Zebra!”

Zebra is the name of the male lead. Kind of weird, but whatever.

Dezechiel turns on the floor. “Well, I did like the dresses. You have good taste.”

“Don't I?” the cheerful girl drops down next to him, unintentionally hurting her partner once more. “Wanna read the Dark Metro of Dentalia with me tonight?”

Deze sighs. Even breathing hurts right now, but he should be able to recover fairly well… in a couple of months, that is. Until then, it's gonna suck.

“I'm kinda tired,” he turns the offer down, “but if you really want to, I think I can hold out.”

The bubbly girl hugs him from behind. “You don't need to. Take all the time you need.”

A light kiss on his hair alleviates at least some of the pain.

Within Fan-Fan's warm embrace, he slowly begins to doze off.

“Speaking of,” her voice brings him back, “shouldn't you change your title?”

“Huh…?” he mumbles, half asleep.

“You know, to something more relevant. Like: Dezechiel, the lovestruck angel.”

\\ \\ \\