Chigiri Shita Tenshu (Promise Under God): Chapter One: To Sleep, Perchance.. A.N.: This really would look cool as a manga, but I can't draw worth crap, so, you have to just pretend. Sorry... I'm trying to stay as Mangaish as
possible. Also, this really doesn't occur in any specified place, other
than the made-up city of Toshi. It's sort of English eighteen hundreds
style, though, with a bunch of Japanese tossed in for flavor. Hope you
enjoy.

The black shoes hit the ground at a surprisingly fast rate, of course, the long legs they were attached to helped speed this process up. "Aijou?" the young twenty-two year old man called, breathless from the run. Nothing. He smiled, and ran some more, the grass flying from below his heels. H paused on top of the grassy hill near a small thicket of trees. "Aijou!" he tried again. This time, he could hear a faint giggle, and grinned, looking around the trees, until finally he swirled around a massive birch, and there he found the treasure that he sought.
The eighteen year old girl was too surprised to giggle at first when the boy who'd been chasing her finally caught up and snatched her into his arms. She continued to giggle, however, as he twirled around once so that her raven black hair flew out from her neck before dropping to the ground with her to place kisses all over her soft white cheeks, just barely dusted with blush.
Breathless from running away from her pursuer and giggling too much, the girl - Aijou - didn't attempt to do anything to stop these caresses. Eventually she decided it had gone on long enough, and etiquette forced her to shove the elder boy off of her, or at least try to. "Come, Kumori, stop this nonsense! You're too old to play games like this! Save it for the house."
The young man - Kumori - stopped his addresses to her only long enough to respond. "How nice, I'm being lectured by a child. That's terribly unbecoming of you, Aijou."
"It's embarrassing for you to simply treat me like you do all the time out in public."
Now Kumori stopped, rolled his eyes, and pulled away from his tempting prize.
"What on earth is that supposed to mean? Treat you like I do all the time - You make it sound like I beat you in public!" he said huffed.
"Don't be absurd," she scolded.
"Don't be nonsensical," he countered. "Really, we're married now and everything! Do I have to go and dig out the license?"
"Don't be dramatic," she scolded again.
"Don't interrupt," he countered again. "And since when is sitting on a hill on my own land - private land, I might add - kissing you in public? None of father's servants are out, he only uses this place to hunt stag, and he hasn't hunted a stag since I was a child. Since you were a child!" His arm stretched out to the perfect view of the Tatakai Manor down below.
"Can't you have enough patience to wait till we are home?"
"Who's one to talk, now? I had ten years of patience with you, and some of those years were terribly hard to remain chaste through, I'll have you know."
Aijou leaned her head against her husband's shoulder. "Do you remember when we first met?"
He didn't look at her, but continued to stare down at his family's ancestral home. "Mhm," he hummed.
"You were just twelve years old."
"You were just nine."
And that consisted of the conversation for a while until Kumori Tatakai's voice sprang up. "Are you happy? I mean the way the arrangement worked out."
"There isn't a girl in her right mind who wouldn't be at least satisfied with marrying into the Tatakai family. You've got Toshi right under your rich thumb!"
Kumori's hand went underneath Aijou's chin and lifted it up so that her eyes stared into his. "That's not what I meant, Aijou-chan."
"I know, Kumori-sama," she responded.
"Now tell me, are you happy, even if this was a planed marriage?"
"Kumori, even if I hadn't wanted to marry you, even if I had hated you, I would have fallen for you eventually anyway. You were always too kind to me."
"You were always so easy to get along with."
"Both our mothers dead, our father's despondent, it was Heaven's arrangement."
"I think I might have died had I never met you, Aijou."
"We were children together..."
"The only children in that wretched house..."
"Fate takes a hand every now and again. Angels brush earth. Some things happen for a reason, some times it's as simple a reason as two people being happy."
"Enough of the philosophy," Kumori said, hoisting his bride up. "We'd best be headed back, or father will start to fret."
They had begun to walk back in relative calm when Aijou heard a distinct thunder clap. Kumori lifted his head, and pointed out the distinct thunder clouds coming over the horizon. Aijou tightened her grip on his arm.
"It's alright, Aijou-chan. That storm is miles and miles away from here."
Aijou looked up at him with her large, purple eyes. "Storms can sometimes only seem like they're miles away. They can turn up on you pretty fast."

.

The old man had to lean against the smooth wood wall to keep himself standing for a moment. He sucked in a breath, his eyes closed, though underneath the lids they were grey, like his son's. Hitan straightened himself up again, and continued to walk to his dark room.
After several minutes of tortured labor, he reached it, and managed to open the door. Here, there might be peace. The servants had quickly learned not to bother him here unless he called them, which had been less and less as he aged, though one would think his needs were twice as much.
Hitan shut the door, and slumped into his chair and took a breath. Finally, all he had to do was send for Kumori, and then he could die. He need never see Akuma again...
"Good evening, Master Tatakai."
Hitan's eyes doubled in size, and he felt like weeping. He turned his head and faced the demon, who leaned against the window sill, his tall, light body a silhouette against the light that poured in from the window.
"Oh, God, why am I tormented? I had hoped to die rather than live another night with you, Akuma."
The demon Akuma tossed his long, silvery hair over his shoulder and studied the man whose body he had inhabited every night for thirty one years. He lifted an eyebrow that arched above a red eye, but took no notice of the man's heartfelt disappointment at seeing him. The young looking man spoke: "Now, didn't that nice doctor tell you to refrain from walking? You should be in the healing room, with all your servants to attend you and keep you well."
Akuma poured some port from a beaker and handed one of the glasses to the aged man, who grimaced as he took a drink of the fortified red liquid. "He said that if I wanted to prolong my life to as long as possible, it would be better for me not to move."
"Yes."
"I do not want to prolong my life as long as possible."
"I see." The demon took a sip of his port and continued to stare at the lord of Tatakai Manor.
"I intend to die before the eleventh hour, Akuma. Before it is fully night. Before you can take control of me. I'm tired of the ghastly things you have me do."
"That's too bad. I'm not," he responded with a smirk, drawing the curtains so that Hitan's old eyes didn't have to squint into the bright setting sunlight to see the man whom he addressed. "Better?"
"No, now I can see you."
Akuma feigned hurt. "I try and do something nice for you, and all you ever do is insult me."
"You've never done a nice thing out of the goodness of your heart as long as I've known you, and I've known you a long time. I don't think you even have a heart."
"You really haven't known me that long compared to how long I've lived."
At this, Hitan's face darkened. "If you're so good, make me a promise."
"What, that your boy will escape unscathed? Sorry, nothing doing."
"I never dared to hope for that," Hitan dismissed with a shake of his head.
"Then?"
"Promise me that you will not be my son's demon."
"I don't need to promise it; I am not going to be his demon." Hitan was visibly relieved. "It's a shame too. So pretty a boy, I was hoping to be able to have a few run ins with him. Aw, well. I'll just have to visit him after you are gone."
"Do not touch Kumori," the old man said with dark hatred.
"What does it matter to you?"
"Everything. I love him."
"Aw, yes. The precious child of your beloved wife."
"Leave Tenshi out of this!" Hitan winced at the mention of her name.
"Why, does it hurt you too much? You're the one who brought the curse upon her. You're the one who did the betraying."
"Shut up!" he shouted, throwing the glass of port at the demon, who merely brushed in out of the air, the glass shattering against the carpet, the wine seeping in. Neither paid it any mind.
"As for never having done anything good, I introduced you to my sister, didn't I? You really seemed to enjoy that."
It was too much. Hitan leaned back against the chair, and tightened his hands into fists, squeezing so tightly that his nails cut his hands.
"You're bleeding," Akuma commented, picking up a hand. "Let me lick it." Hitan said nothing, just shook and sighed, shutting his eyes tightly as the demon began to run his tongue over the cuts. A silent tear squeezed out of the dying man's eye, and this, too, Akuma licked away.

.

"Master Kumori, your father needs you," said the servant to the young man as he walked in, his wife in arm. They were wet and breathless, for it had started raining, and they'd had to run all the way back. Lightning flashed against the windows, and rapidly approaching thunder could be heard.
Kumori's eyes got wide, for his father never called for him. If Kumori talked to him, it was because he had gone to see Master Tatakai, not the other way around. "Stay here, Aijou, please."
Aijou understood, and waited in the entrance hall as he left.

.

Kumori stood in the doorway and stared in, his vision adjusting, for it was dark inside. "Father?" he asked.
"Come in, Kumori, for I have things to tell you."
"What are you doing in here?" Kumori nearly shouted, quickly walking in and kneeling at the side of the chair, taking the old man's hand. "You should be in the hospital room, resting."
Kumori had never really liked his father's dark study, especially as a child. Strange noises often came from it, and he could sometimes hear his father crying in it. Kumori remembered creeping near to the door one night, as he heard his father shouting and yelling in it. He thought, occasionally, that he heard another voice as well, but not often. He heard crashing sounds, like things breaking inside. Kumori remained hidden behind the corner, and could hear his father sobbing. A few moments later, his father left, his hair a mess, his clothes torn and bloody, his eyes bloodshot. Kumori wanted to rush to his father's aid to see what was the matter, but he feared that his father might yell at him for catching him out of bed, and intense curiosity rooted him to the spot. Whoever his father had been yelling at would leave that room, and then Kumori would know. He waited for hours before finally giving up and going back to bed; no one ever left that room, and Kumori had checked it. It was empty.
"No, I'd much rather finish it here than being fretted over by doctors and such. Let's make this a clean death, right Kumori? You'll soon have an appreciation for clean deaths. I certainly do."
"Don't talk like that, father, please don't."
"I can't sugar coat anything anymore, Kumori, and I'm so terribly, terribly sorry."
"I don't need you to sugar coat anything, I just need you to not be so miserable."
Hitan grimaced. "Misery has been connected with me for thirty plus years. Only death will sever it, God willing. But I've got so many other things to do until I finally snuff it, Kumori, so don't talk; just listen. Oh yes, it will be today. This very hour. Very, very soon."
"Please, father, I-"
"Shh," the old man said, putting a hand under his son's chin and lifting it up. "Let me examine you one last time." He stared into the face intently; it was almost a mirror of his own. "It is too bad you don't have your mother's eyes. You did when you were younger. I suppose you grew out of them. Heavenly blue, brighter than any other blue I've ever seen. But now they're grey; as grey as that storm outside; as grey as mine. It's too bad, really."
Kumori dared something he hadn't done in years: "Father, tell me about my mother."
"I can deny you nothing now, it's only fair. She had blonde hair and blue eyes. She had a dazzling smile, and always laughed, was always happy. Her name was Tenshi, and she was wonderful. I didn't deserve her. I wronged her in many ways, your mother."
He now glanced at his son's hair: black. "Well, even if it is like mine, you have good hair. How is your wife?" he asked, switching topics entirely.
"Aijou does well."
"Thinking of having children?"
"Yes, of course."
Hitan closed his eyes. "That is too bad.."
"What?" exclaimed a stunned Kumori.
"Shh... You'll learn soon enough." Hitan glanced at his son again. "It looks like you've inherited just about everything from me, Kumori, my son."
"A son should look like his father."
"You've inherited far greater things than looks from me, my boy."
"Like your character?"
"Heaven forbid you inherit that!" Hitan tried to shout. His voice was too feeble for that. "Always be true to your wife, Kumori."
"I plan to be."
"Good, that is good." Hitan suddenly began to silently cry. Did he fear death? Kumori barely knew his father. He didn't know. "Oh God, Kumori, I am so, so sorry! If I had ever known.."
"Father, it is alright, what didn't you know?"
"It is not alright! It can never be alright! Oh God, forgive me!"
"Father, please calm down, your heart, remember your heart!"
"I do remember it. I remember it everyday. It died when you were very small. God willing I join it now. Just say you forgive me now, Kumori, just say it, and I can die."
"But what-"
"Say it!" he tried to shout again.
Kumori paused in confusion, and said nothing. If his father spoke the truth, he was almost afraid to say it; afraid to watch him die. But he would not have his father die in this unexplainable agony. "I forgive you, father."
Hitan leaned back in his chair, his eyes closed "Good, it is good, Kumori." He took one last, deep breath, exhaled, and died. But not before whispering, so silent not even Kumori could here it "I'm coming for you, Tenshi."

.

"Kumori?" Aijou turned her head at the sound of approaching footsteps, and stopped her pacing. Kumori stood, distraught, in the smooth stone room. "Kumori?" Aijou asked again. Kumori gave a small sob and ran to his wife's out stretched arms, and hid there, sheltered by her embrace.

To Be Continued...