“T.E.N.A.N.T.”

Author’s Notes: *cracks knuckles* Okay, this is one really f*cked up fic, just so you know. I don’t know WHERE it came from, nor do I know what’s going to happen in it...I DO know, however, how it was inspired. You know those piccies of the sad-injured-somebody-love-me-Seki-rei Gaku? Yeah...those. Read and Review please? It’d make me very happy...please...?

...he ran. He ran until he collapsed, finally, gasping, by the ruins of an old church. The gray stones were enveloped with lichen and ivy swallowed the foundation.

He coughed. Blood sputtered from between his lips, spattering against the leaves underneath him. Shivering, he rocked back onto his haunches and looked at his hands.

Blood.

Blood from his enemies...his pursuers...the guards...the soldiers...the murderers...the men...

Blood from his own injuries...from the bullets...from the lashings...from the beatings...from the twigs and briars and stones which had tripped him, twisted around his legs, tried to trap him... The wound in his chest hurt, drenching the front of his cloak and painting it in gore.

Blood from his creator...his teacher...his friend...his...lover...

That new word...so alien on his tongue, in his mind...No more...

The men...they killed his lover, his creator, his friend...and he killed the men in vengeance...blood...so much blood...

The fugitive let forth a string of strangled sobs, which soon turned into frightened gasps for air as he coughed, trying to clear his dying lungs. More blood. So much blood. Drowning in blood.

He wrapped his injured arms around himself. They were numb from the cold. Fog began to set in, surrounding him. He held himself and whimpered like a frightened child, lost in the woods. Looking around, he whimpered as saline tears streamed down from his dark eyes, smearing the grime and blood.

With one final mewling cry, his eyes fluttered closed and he pitched forward...dead...

...death and blood...

*****

"I hate border patrol..." the redhead groaned. "There's nothing to do except look at a bunch of dying trees and moss-covered rocks." He emphasized by giving one said rock a good kick with his black boot. "All the things trying to get INTO our territory never come this way - it's practically suicide."

"Maybe one of these days we'll get lucky..." muttered the lieutenant who lounged against a tree and lit a cigarette, his gun tucked into the crook of his arm. "Maybe we'll get to shoot something."

Masa sighed. Only in the 4th Division would men actually be so bored out of their minds, would they WANT a fight. Walking atop the undergrowth, his feet barely felt the ground below him. This must be what floating is like... he thought to himself, a small smile crossing his face. The fog had dispersed by midday but the sky remained a desolate gray. No birds sang in this section of the forest. During the day, it was utterly depressing. At night it was down right creepy. Walking by a moss-covered ruin, he passed a tall soldier who was staring intently at something on the opposite side of the ancient, stone wall. "What the…?"

The taller of the two waved his comrades over. "Hey, over here. Look at this." Heeding the other's call, they gathered about him and looked down.

Masa paused to check his ammunition and then jumped lightly from the ledge to the earth ten feet down. He landed with cat-like grace, taking the precaution of aiming his rifle at the object of the tall soldier’s fascination.

The lieutenant called after him, "Masa! What the Hell are you doing?"

"I want a better look..." The youth walked forward, undaunted, through what possibly had been the church's garden. Dead bushes, trees and flowers in hanging baskets infested the area in a grotesque image of a floral plague. Twigs snapped underfoot as he stalked toward the mound of what appeared to be faded, blue fabric... A shroud maybe? He stepped over the sprawled form to what he thought was the head and knelt on the ground, gun in hand. He stretched forward a trembling hand and gently tugged on the blue gauze.

A face was revealed to him. Human. Pallid and death-like, but human - thankfully not a corpse. He sighed and looked back at the others who had jumped from the ledge shortly after him and were progressing swiftly toward him. "It's a guy."

"Surely he's dead..." stated the lieutenant. "No one can stay the whole night out here..."

"I don't think he spent the whole night," the youth, Masa, observed as he stroked the body's pale cheek. "He's still warm." Just as he pulled away, dark eyes snapped open and stared up at him. Masa gasped. The eyes blinked a few times as they stared into his own before they flicked nervously to the gun at his side then back to his face.

Masa nodded at the prone one's implication and tossed the gun to the ground by his comrades’ feet. The shrouded man's eyes followed the gun's brief flight through the air and stopped as the weapon did. He gasped and flipped onto his back, wriggling backwards until he was pressed against a wall of dead rose bushes.

The youth's eyes flicked back and forth between his companions and this new discovery before something clicked. "Put your guns down."

"What?"

"Do it, please?"

"What if it's an ambush?"

Masa sighed, "Ren...I don't think he intended to be found here. And I highly doubt the Tenant Sovereign [1] would dare come this far out, much less take this way, around the back, and use guerilla warfare – its not their style."

The redhead rolled his eyes but placed his gun on the ground with the others' and stepped back, his hands raised just above his shoulders.

Masa turned his eyes back to this new creature. The shrouded man was stained with dried blood, whether his own or another's, it was unsure. His eyes stared up at the soldiers that had cornered him with beautiful doe eyes, large with fright and woe. His cracked lips moved but no words were uttered from between them. The thorns from the dead rose bushes tore at the cloth that was wrapped about his pale frame, sliced his skin, and opened old wounds. Blood flowed freely from the cuts on his face and arms.

"Hey! Guys! Where are you?"

"Down here Toshi," the lieutenant called over his shoulder. A man, slightly older than the rest, bounded over the ledge without hesitation in response to the cry from the officer.

"I've been looking all over for you guys! I found some dried blood heading from the...oh..." the man, Toshi, paused and looked at the shaking form of the injured man.

"Go on Toshi..." the lieutenant encouraged, albeit a little impatient, "Heading from where?"

Toshi shook his head to clear it and pointed over the horizon and to the south. "Heading from the T.S. fort in the North. I guess you found out why."

The redhead glowered down at the shaking man in the blue shroud. "Tenant, huh...?"

You shook his head. "Couldn't be...he's too pretty to be from a T.S. Unit..."

"'Special' forces then. " He stepped forward.

The injured man jumped even further back into the wall of rose bushes. On reflex, he wrapped a hand around a stem, the thorns digging deep into his palm, spurting fresh, red blood. He gasped, but didn't move otherwise.

Seeing this action, the soldier paused in his pursuit. Masa, who sat beside the shivering creature, slipped his hand around the frail wrist of the other, gently pulling it free of the briars. Pulling off the red bandana, which was tied around his arm, he tied a hasty bandage around the man's bleeding hand. Finishing the knot, he looked up at his patient. The doe eyes stared back at him, looking deep into his mind, his soul, and they were as sad and confused as ever.

"Well, whoever he is," the lieutenant began as he stepped forward and knelt before the spellbound stranger, "He's in a world of hurt..." He brushed aside a few dark strands of hair, which were matted to the other's forehead with blood, sweat, and grime. Looking down, he pushed back a few folds of the pale blue fabric revealing a red stain that spread over the man's chest and abdomen. "I think we should get him to some doctors...pretty quick too…" Turning to look up at the taller soldier he ordered, “You, go radio in. I’ll try to see what I can get out of him. Masa, Toshi – you two help me get him up. Ren,” the redhead looked up, “you go with You.:

The latter gave one last bitter glance at the man shivering on the ground before picking up his weapon and turning on his heel.

"Do you speak Japanese?"

The man stared at him, blank.

"-Do you speak English-?"

The blank look continued, unaltered.

“¿Puede hablar usted el español?”

Still blank.

“Sprechen Sie Deutsch?”

And yet, still no sign of any recognition.

"Parlez-vous Francais?"

Something flickered. A small, invalid-like smile spread across the other's features. Cha tried again. "Parlez-vous Francais? Oui ou non?"

Again the flicker of dumb recognition. Masa smiled and piped up, "I think he likes your voice."

The lieutenant sighed, dejected. "I think so too. But that doesn't help us...I still can't tell him what's going on..."

The strange, injured man reached forward, weakly, and touched the lieutenant’s lips. He smiled softly and brought his fingers back to touch his own. His eyes implored for more.

"Help me get him up. We'll work on this more when we get back to base." Wrapping an arm around the man's waist, the lieutenant helped Masa support the man between them. Half-carrying, half dragging the pitiful creature, they made they're way to the transport.

*****

After the bumpy ride from the archaic church to the compound, the stranger was led, upon shaking legs and uneven ground, up the cold stone steps and into the ancient brick building, which served as the 4th’s safe house.

The ivy had overrun the cracked, red brick structure, hiding its vivid, sanguine hue from the prying eyes of the wood. A few of the glass windows were broken or cracked, the battered shutters hanging from rusted hinges. Through the shattered glass, one could see men drilling and marching outside in the courtyard.

The stranger stood in childish awe, eyes wide, looking about him, amazed at the wooden floors, the candles that lit the room, the fire in the hearth...His body shook as he clung to Masa and Cha who supported him. With one hand, the lieutenant grabbed a wooden chair and dragged it over to them. Transplanting the overwhelmed outsider in the seat, he walked quickly to You who stood at the door. “Go get him some clothes. I think some of yours may fit him.” The other nodded and left the dim room via a door, partially hidden by the fireplace. Turning, Cha spotted Ren lounging against the door to the outside, scowling. “Ren...You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Of course, the dark undertones of the younger man’s voice did not go unnoticed.

A muted laugh came from the center of the room. Looking about him, Cha spotted Masa kneeling beside the seated stranger. The shrouded man was toying with the buttons of Masa’s uniform. He’d unbutton one, and then slip it back into its hole. Then two, sliding them through the opening in the dark fabric. He smiled gleefully in impish delight up at the owner of the shirt before going about his fun another time. Masa looked up, noticing the others’ attention. “He saw me playing with them earlier,” he explained. Softer, he muttered, “He’s like a little kid...”

“That’s because he technically is a little kid.” They all turned. You rested against the fireplace, some clothes held against his stomach, watching the antics of the stranger and the reactions of the soldiers. “As far as we know, he’s either an invalid or his memory has been erased. Either way, he is helpless.”

Masa’s smile faded as he touched the outsider’s face. The man in the blue cowl looked up, startled. A few moments passed without a sound. Then, mechanically, the man placed two fingers on Masa’s chest and stuttered, “T...Ten...shi... [2]”

[1] Tenant Sovereign = Eh...I dunno...I needed a name and I’m not very good for thinking up names of organizations. People, I can do. Organizations...no.

[2] “Tenshi” = “Angel”