And He Doth Descended Into the Depths of Heaven
-Part Seven-
Kuriyamimizu

copyrights are the same as always.

Kuri holds up a new sign: More Gundam Boy torture ahead, MUCH more shonen ai and tons of WEIRD SHIT!!!!

(A note: Kuri wrote this while under the influence of a contact high, so the beginning might be a little screwy  ^-^  ((no Kuri does not smoke anything on a regular basis, there were a whole bunch of stoners standing around and smoking while she was watching the fireworks!!! )) )

     Quatre stirred his tea and watched the little bits that had escaped their holder swirl around with the rest of the liquid in the cup. Something was going to happen today. The day in question had started out fairly normally, in actuality.  He had risen and done a little housework, Wufei had gone out in the surrounding forest to train, Trowa was at home reading, Duo was sleeping as usual and Heero was actually sitting and doing nothing more than watching TV. There were all the makings there of a completely regular, completely normal day, yet the feeling of impending doom stayed around him. It was like a black cloud marring the light of the day.

     As of then Quatre was dusting the kitchen cupboards, trying to banish the dust that kept trying to sneak in from places unknown. After working his way through various bottles of vitamins, stimulants, and an almost empty bottle of no-doz he encountered an innocent little orange bottle. Without really thinking he read the label.

Duo Maxwell
Physician: S. Poe
Dosage: Take one tablet in the morning and one in the evening directly before bed.

     As he looked he noted all of the little labels saying, do take with this and don’t take with that. When he looked at exactly what it was that was held within the container his eyebrows furrowed with confusion. Zoloft, that name in particular he couldn’t place from what limited exposure he had been given to medical training and the different varieties of drugs. There was the sounds of footsteps behind him and a rather bleary looking Duo sauntered in on legs that looked like they would give out on him. Silently, without much effort Quatre moved one of the chairs in front of Duo just before he collapsed. In his mind a little telekinesis was not a bad thing when used in moderation.

     Duo figured his move, he could feel the other boy’s subtle mood shift. Recently he’d gotten very sensitive to his fellow pilot’s mindsets. And oddly enough, he’d also gotten closer to Dorthy Catalonia. That fact annoyed him much, although she was as brilliant a tactician as he, they didn’t get along. There was a very striking difference of opinion between them.  Back to his original thought he was aware that Duo was aware he had suddenly provided his fellow man with a seat so that he wouldn’t take a sudden seat on the linoleum.

“Thanks Quatre.”

     Quatre smiled at Duo in the window as the boy looked at his reflection.

“Not a problem. You okay?”

     In all honesty Duo looked like hell; in fact hell was an understatement. He looked tired, worn, beat and almost bruised. Yet he hadn’t been out of the house except for a couple of grocery runs in almost a week. The information that Quatre had was not adding up at all.

     Duo was staring at him with lackluster eyes. With one rather thin hand he reached out, waiting.

“Quatre, meds please.”

     For a moment the little blonde pilot couldn’t make sense of the simple statement. And then it made sense. Duo was asking for his medication. He made a mental note to ask Duo what was going on and what the exact usage of the medicine he was about to hand over was. However, that information was for another time. At that time it would be prudent of him to hand it over.

“Here you go.”

     Duo nodded gracefully. He took two out of the bottle; then walked over to the sink and in a fluid motion, poured himself a cup of water, took a swig and downed the pills. Quatre quirked an eyebrow. On the bottle it had said that Duo was only supposed to take one. The Deathscythe pilot stood there at the counter with his eyes closed, completely still for about a moment. In that moment Quatre took in his whole form. Never before had he noticed just how slim and beautiful Duo was. That day he had opted, with no surprise to anyone, to wear black. He was attired in a black long-sleeved shirt and slightly tight black slacks. He was barefoot and had a black choker around his neck with a little cross resting right in the middle of it. His bangs were mussed and his braid was about to come completely undone and let his chestnut hair spill out onto his back. He was very handsome. Quatre chided himself for his thoughts, then repented even that. He was allowed to look, yet not touch. Duo wasn’t his type, he was pretty to look at, but the soul inside was too dark, too troubled, and in a way, too angry. He much preferred Trowa.

     Duo sat back down at the table. Quatre was at a loss for words and surprised himself when the word, “tea?” came out of his mouth. Duo looked up and nodded, his violet eyes looking very distressed. Quatre put a kettle on to warm and came to sit next to the slightly drowsy boy.

“You getting enough sleep?”

     Duo looked like he was about to retort sharply, but he held it back after looking at who he was speaking to. A small, but sincere smile crept onto his lips.

“No, not really.”

     Quatre smiled, Duo was being honest with him. That made him unreasonably happy. The fact that his friend would drop the façade even this much made him feel proud that he was that close to the immeasurably deep Duo, with more masks than an entire theater group, and none of which were palpable.

     Duo ran a hand once through his bangs and then over his face, the other coming to be folded on the table top. He let his head sink down onto his folded arms, tilted at an angle so that he could talk to Quatre.

“I sleep a lot, but it’s not restful, half of the time I’ll be awake, and yet I’m not. It’s not pleasant, also, there are the migraines.”

 Quatre raised an eyebrow. “You get really severe headaches?”

     Duo nodded, and with a bitter laugh continued. “I think if Professor G had known about that little tidbit I wouldn't be with you here today. It ruins the concentration horribly, you know.”

     Duo had a very embittered look on his face. Quatre had to say or do something, he finally opted to lay a hand gently on Duo’s shoulder. In times like these, where the truth was half-hidden through good intentions, or needs to protect, simple truths were even more welcome than usual.

“I’d never be anywhere near as happy with anyone else as my wingman Duo. I’m glad you’re the one that’s backing me up.”

     The dark boy smiled and then let his head slip completely down onto his arms. He caught the look on Quatre’s face and smiled.

“No worries, it’s just the meds, they make me sleepy.”

     Quatre smiled, half reassured. Then he decided that Duo needed a quick neck-rub. He’d been given the same when he was younger and he’d picked up the ability to drain tension from one quickly and decisively in a few gentle motions of fingertips. He laid his hands on Duo’s neck and felt no resistance. He smiled and then spoke as he gently began to kneed the flesh under Duo’s braid.

“When I was a little boy, I would get really stiff and tense. My father would come in and we would talk and he’d give me massages. They would work wonders. I picked up a trick or two. I hope you don’t mind.”

     There was a muffled, ‘no’ from Duo’s general direction.

*Duo POV*

     It was so hard to keep my head up in that kitchen. It was rather warm with the amount of clothing I had put on this morning. Quatre’s gentle ministrations to my very sore neck are not helping the fact either. The whole house is finally warm enough for me. We all out-voted Wufei, who wanted to keep it a lot chillier than it is currently. The simple argument had been that it would be bad for Heero, who at that time had still been recovering from his brush with hypothermia. Now the ambient temperature was agreeable to all.

     That had been last month. We are now comfortably into the month of September. This month is starting to be much the same as the last in the way of missions and such. Actually, when I think of it, the entire house has been relatively tranquil. I’ve had the least duties of all. In a way I feel kind of bad, I mean, everyone else is out there busting their assess and I’m sitting at home sleeping, or out with Hilde. That’s the way things have been going lately. Beside Heero and the other pilots, she’s one of my closest and dearest friends.

     Today we’re supposed to go out and have lunch, but I’m not sure I feel up to it. Maybe it another few hours of sleep. I dunno, I’ll just have to see how I feel. Most days that’s the way I take it, see how I feel. The other pilots don’t know yet. If I have anything to say about it they won’t find out either. It’s a burden that I don’t want to put on them. In their own way they all care, and I know it’s selfish, but I don’t want them to treat me any differently than they do now. If they knew that I was dying then they would tread lightly around me, and treat me like some piece of breakable china. I don’t want that.

     I watched as Quatre put my medicine back where he had found it and finished dusting the counter. He’s such a sweetheart in the fact that he’ll go about cleaning, cooking for us and performing the little niceties that most of us neglect. I envy him in many aspects, for he really is what I pretend to be. From my semi-prone position on the table I watch as Trowa comes in and hooks one of his long arms about Quatre’s waist and pulls him in quickly for a hug and a playful kiss. Quatre’s so much shorter than Trowa in comparison that I almost laugh when I see the little blonde stand on his tiptoes to kiss back. The laugh mentioned came out as a muffled snort. I didn’t want to sound rude, but they didn’t hear me anyway.

     After another moment of watching them I decide that I’ve outworn my welcome and that it’s time to meander into another part of the house. Quatre catches my eye and winks, silently telling me to stay cool. I smile back at him and wander down the hall. At my side Alex appears. She looks up at me and smiles pleasantly, her wing beats almost completely silent in the semi-silence of the halls. It’s a little bit murky wandering through the halls and the only background noise is that of the heater, humming slowly. In our room Heero is watching television. The other day we found a hidden door to a side room and now he’s sitting in the same, watching television. I wasn’t aware that my rather stoic fellow pilot watched television.  Yet he does, and he also writes poetry. I found one of his books the other day and discovered that he has an affinity with free-form and prose. Personally I like sonnets, although I’m very sure that they’re nothing to cheer over.

     I wander in and Heero acknowledges me with a flick of his cobalt blue eyes, intense and at the same time extremely serene. I know that I could drown in those eyes, were I given only a half of a chance. Yet right now I’m going to content myself with sitting down next to him on the couch and mindlessly watching television until noon.

     He doesn’t say much when I sit. He’s got one arm stretched out over the back of the couch and he looks very relaxed for a change. It’s good to see him relaxed. He bounces a little when I flop down next to him. We stay there silently for a little while and the television drones on in the background; the noise hurts my head and a feel my vision starting to blur a little bit. My jaw clenches slightly as I realize that I’m going to have a hell of a migraine very soon. This is the worst possible time for it. Heero keeps on watching television, oblivious. On television a flutist stands tall and proud on a podium, playing with her head held high and eyes shut, entranced in her own world of music. Heero has a small smile on his face as he listens to the fanciful melody. It’s a pretty tune, but the buzz of pain is the more dominant sound in my ears. I’m entirely sure that I’ve got to lay down, I have two choices, on the floor, or on Heero. It looks like I’m going to have to move. I’m just about to let my legs fall over the edge from where I had tucked them under myself when Heero speaks, still watching the screen.

“Daijoubu ka?”

     I smile half-heartedly, on the verge of tears from the all too familiar pain hammering inside of my scull. My voice sounds strained even to my ears as I speak.

“I’ve got a migraine.”

“Then lay down.”

     It wasn’t an invitation, nor a statement, but rather something in-between. I couldn’t think very clearly at that moment so I did what I had been wanting to do in the first place. I laid down until my aching scull was resting in his lap. I was fairly comfortable then, aside from the merciless drumming of whatever it was in my head.

*Heero POV*

     I knew that there was something wrong with Duo when I heard the subtle intake of air through his teeth. I’d learned to read his mannerisms after almost a month of being in constant contact with him. As scary as it sounded even to myself, I’d even learned his breathing patterns. I could tell simply by listening, if he was annoyed, hurting, calm, exuberant, or frightened. When I reviewed that thought a little later on I concluded that I was bordering on being obsessive and that I really ought to go and receive clinical  help.  However, the thought really did not appeal to me. If I got to a psychologist they’d psychoanalyze me to the point where they would be having problems after listening to mine.

     When I listened to Duo, I heart the subtle shift to indicate that he was hurting. When I flicked my eyes over cautiously I found that he was rubbing his temples with one hand and supporting himself with the other. I wanted to do something for him. So I would ask what was wrong.

“Daijoubu ka?”

     He gives me a half smile, but I see tears haunting his eyes.

“I’ve got a migraine.”

         He seems to be getting those a lot lately. I admit freely to myself that I’m a little bit worried about him. When he gets them he usually lies down. That is what he should do now, but I’m in the way. I have two options, I can move and give him space, or I can let him lay down on me. Perverted as the motives behind the thought might be, I chose the second option. It was close to never that I got a chance to be close to the Deathscythe pilot, and I would ruthlessly exploit those times that I did get.

         He laid down in my lap and I could feel his heartbeat. It was an odd feeling. His braid fell haphazardly between the couch and his back. My breath caught in my throat at the realization that he was that close to me, that I could touch him if I were cautious and not too untoward.

         For some reason that simple knowledge gave me more happiness than anything I could recall at that point. With cautious fingers I reached out and stroked a finger over his silky hair. From his direction I hear a low croon that I take first as a simple sound, but then after listening for a moment I correct myself in the fact that it’s a low sound of pain. It must be one heck of a headache to get him into this state.

“I’d noticed that you’ve been getting those a lot lately, have you seen someone about it?”

     I felt him smile against my leg as he subtly repositioned himself. “Yeah, I am actually. I have an appointment with someone tomorrow. I think I just need to get some really strong form of Aspirin and I’ll be fine.”

     I didn’t believe him for one moment. Over the time that I’ve known him, I can tell when Duo lies. This is one of the times, although it’s subtle. I decide that now is not the time to call him on it. Looking over his frame out of the corner of my eye I note that his braid is askew and about to fall from the holder that is valiantly clinging to it.

“Your hair is coming undone.”

     I hear him swear slightly and sigh. “I’ll get it later.”

     Oh and opportunity doth once again knock upon my door. As casually as I could manage, I ask, “you want me to re-braid it?”

     Again I feel him smile. “That would be nice. Don’t yank though, I’ve got a sensitive head.”

     I nod and with reverence that I show no one and nothing else I undo the chestnut colored strands of silk from their confines. There must actually be some sort of a deity up there, for this is a chance that I’ve been literally praying for, for a long time. Braiding Duo’s hair is like working with spider silk. His hair is something that I know he loves and pays a lot of attention to and as I hold it, his work shows. The chestnut strands are strong and vibrant. They shine in the lighting of the room. I’d love to stay and just run my hands through his hair, and over him for that matter. But now is not the time to entertain fantasies. I just have to braid his hair. I don’t think that it wants to be braided right now. So I’m going to ponytail it.

“Ne, Duo.”

“Hmm?”

“Mind if I just ponytail your hair? I heard that it’s good to let it free sometimes.”

“Do as you like.”

     With care, I ponytailed his hair and let it once again slink down behind him. He was so beautiful--- I couldn’t find words in that moment. I honestly couldn’t say how long we stayed like that. The person on television played on, but her tune had turned into something bittersweet. When I glanced down to Duo I found that he was asleep. I had to smile, because more and more he reminded me of a sleeping kitten.

*Duo POV*

         I woke up to find my head cradled in Heero’s lap. He had one hand resting between my shoulder blades. The other was resting on his knee. I honestly couldn’t remember how I had gotten to his particular position. That last migraine had been a really big one, yet after my quick nap I felt loads better than I had earlier. I think it’s a combination of Heero and medication. Along with my normal meds, I had taken an Advil this morning and it seemed to be working. Another bonus was that I had woken up in time to go and have lunch with Hilde.
 

         The shorthaired girl knocked politely on the door of the two story house that she had finally found on the outskirts of the city. The whole street was silent. The address that Duo had given her had led to a fairly posh new housing development. A wind blew fitfully through the small hall of houses and then more freely out in the fields that bordered the place.

         She rang once more, half expecting to see some of Duo’s other roommates. She knew of four other people that lived their, although she wasn’t exactly sure who they were. She was of the knowledge that one of them was Heero Yuy, who Duo had openly admitted to having a crush on. The news had been very painful to her. She had made it apparent in every way possible that she was very interested in him, much more than friends.

         At first she had thought that the boy just wasn’t getting the hints. The fact that saddened her was that he had been getting the hints all along, and that he simply wasn’t acting on them. Even though he didn’t want to be together with her in that way he had also admitted that he loved her as a sister and confidant. That in itself was enough. She loved Duo enough that she would not stand in his way if she wasn’t what he wanted.

         As of late she couldn’t believe what was going on. Of all of the people who could have gotten cancer, who should have gotten cancer, Duo wasn’t the one. He shouldn’t be the one that was sick; the one who was---dying.

         The simple thought of him dying was more painful than anything else that she had been forced to endure that year. She still didn’t fully believe the news that he had delivered to her, gasping and on the verge of tears, two Sundays ago. Still no answer to the door. Inside she could hear movement. She hoped that she hadn’t woken him up from a nap; that was not her intent.

         At last the door opened. Duo smiled at her brightly, his usually braided chestnut hair flowing free in the breeze, silky strands trailing through the air. She smiled and yanked his ponytail gently.

“You let your hair down.”

         He smiled and nodded, his cheerful voice at full vibrancy.

*DUO POV*

         I grinned at Hildy as she noted my subtle change of hairstyle.

“You like it this way? You sexy little girl you?”

         She smiled at me sardonically, knowing full and well that I was teasing her.

“Why yes, I do, because it makes it all the easier to yank random stands out and make voodoo dolls.”

         I saw the laughter in her eyes, but I wasn’t sure where it was directed. For some reason, the comment seemed off-kilter. I shrugged that one off an decided that it wasn’t worthy of pursuit. I kept a friendly face as she caught my arm and we began to walk at a jaunty pace down to where her car was parked. With amusement that I let show on my face I turned to her and asked,

“So where’s lunch today?”

     She looked thoughtful for a moment, taking her time before answering the question. “I think we ought to go and have pizza.”

         I thought it over even though common sense told me no. Sally had assigned me some new meds as of late, beside the ‘antidepressants’ that she had conveniently forgotten to tell me she was giving me. The new stuff upset my stomach. It wasn’t going to be a beautiful scene if I puked up lunch. To her credit Hildy caught my silence and registered its meaning before I could say it. With a smile that made her pretty eyes sparkle she let me into the car and took the driver’s seat.

“That’s fine. Why don’t we go to the buffet and you get what you want ‘kay?”

         I smiled and nodded, the girl had sense. We drove at a speed that was bordering fast but not quite there. Studying my driver I concluded that Hildy was a woman that had her priorities straight. She could take care of herself. Apparently she could tell that I was looking at her.

“What is it?”

“Just thinking.”

         She smiled. “I don’t think that you’re going to die Duo. It doesn’t strike me as something that’s particularly right….”

         I shook my head, tears threatening where I thought that I had shed them all. “I guess that you’re wrong there.”

         Silence stretched between us and then she asked, her voice slightly tremulous. “Did you get another phone call?”

         I nodded, staring out into the oncoming traffic. As I looked I noticed giant thunderheads gathering in the distance. It would be a hell of a storm. Most likely it would knock out some of the power in the house. I couldn’t say, because everything was all muddled. It had been for a long while now.

“I got a call from Sally this morning---“

         I could tell she was worried. She was sneaking worried glances at me. To her credit though, she wasn’t treating me much differently than she would have. She wasn’t treating me like something foreign or a china doll. She was acting like I was the same Duo Maxwell that she had always known. She was waiting for me to finish the sentence, to confirm whatever fears she held deep in her heart unspoken.

“--- she said that it-it was spreading into my brain.”

         We were at a stoplight. Dead silence filled the cabin of her modest jeep. With a hand that trembled ever so slightly she reached out and turned on the radio. The sounds of soft jazz filled the silence, banishing echoes of the abyss itself. With a jolt I realized that I wasn’t smiling anymore. I couldn’t hold it up. With a long suffering sigh I let my head lean against the window. We drove on once the light turned, still silent.

-In heaven-

         Alex showed up in a rush of air as she faded in. Fusei had to admire her style and finesse, for she had a lot of both for one so young. She looked like she was carrying bad news. There had been so much of that recently that she wasn’t sure she could take any more. The little demon flew up slowly and looked at her with her liquid purple eyes.

/My  boss said to ask you something./

/What is it chibi?/

         The little demon folded her wings to assume a business like aspect and asked clearly and pointedly, asked,

/Do you have the blade?/

         Silence fell over the small group of angels that had been in the same general area as the two. The other angels had learned to tolerate and  accept Alex to a point, but what she had just spoken of verged on sacrilege.

         Fusei, her face pale and slightly ashen from the demi-demon’s words spoke.

/Why are you even asking about it? Have you found it’s twin?/

         Alex nodded again, her vibrant eyes half hooded. There were a few gasps and murmurs from the assembled group. Fusei spoke again, her face now almost angry, staring straight into those purple depths.

/Where is it? Last time I checked your master had it. That was the way that the deal worked. Until the big finish. There was supposed to be a sword carrier./

         Alex nodded again, her eyes seeming to tell that despite her appearance she was millions of years old. And burdened with knowledge that laid heavily on her young heart.

/I know exactly where the sword is./

         Fusei watched as the others left. She didn’t blame them. The conversations that she had been unexpectedly pulled into touched on very weighty matters indeed.

/Where is the sword chibi/

         She knew that her voice held an edge. Yet right now she couldn’t afford to be coy. The whole bloody world was at risk. The demon unfolded her wings to their fullest length and brought one tiny hand up to her collar bone and then slowly downward to her breast, where it rested directly over her heart.

/The sword is inside of me. I’m the sword carrier. I just received orders that I’m supposed to grow up./

         Fusei blinked, uncomprehending. /What happens then?/

         With a serious air the small child closed her eyes and spoke in a whisper, the first and only time that she would use her voice around Fusei or anyone else for that matter.

“The very end of the world as we know it.”

 
        Quatre laid back against the softness of the old leather couch and sighed in contentment. A little while ago he and Trowa had been watching a movie together and he felt like nothing in the world could ever go wrong again. When suddenly his peace was shattered abruptly. When he looked toward the bathroom where Trowa was showering he noted the sudden silence. Every movement had stopped. When he cautiously poked his head in to see what was going on he found Trowa standing buck naked in front of a mirror, staring into it with no comprehension in his eyes. The steam from the shower was still in the air and droplets of water fell slowly down his skin. Quatre pulled his head out of the bathroom with an attractive blush coloring his cheeks.

         What Trowa was doing in that bathroom he could neigh figure out. His mind was rather fuzzy actually. When he thought about it for a moment it struck him that he’d seen something in the mirror. It was a pair of eyes actually---bright blue eyes. He looked once again, Trowa was still in the same position and there was the person in the mirror, only, she---Quatre staggered back, tears falling down his face faster than he would first have given them credit for. That person in the mirror, he knew her. It couldn’t be; simply because she was dead.

         Doubt and overwhelming grief had filled his heart so fast that everything else was inconsequential. The girl in the mirror was his sister. She was the only one out of almost fifty that was smaller than he. She had died at the age of thirteen, when he had first been sent out to operation meteor, only two years ago. He was unaware that his ragged sobs were echoing through the air or that he had tangled his fingers into the blonde silk that was his hair was sitting on the floor weeping like he’d lost the world.

        Her name had been Stephanie Angelena Winner, his little sister. His –only – little sister.

        Trowa stared at the smiling face in the mirror with a slight bit of confusion. The person seemed vaguely familiar to him. He couldn’t place her smile though. She was a wispy thing with liquid blue eyes that almost matched Quatre’s and gentle blonde hair that fell over her shoulders in a slight cascade. Most of it hung down her back, shining in a light that he didn’t see. He was unaware that he spoke, his lips moving in the silence of the bathroom.

“What do I need to know?”

         She smiled sadly a trace of melancholy coloring her demeanor and making her smile all the sweeter.

/Only to be wary. And to watch Quatre./

         Both messages seemed to make sense even though they were very cryptic. He spoke again, finally finding control of his mouth.

“What’s your name?”

         She giggled, smiling a smile that kept on reminding him more and more of Quatre.

/My name is Stephanie./

         In the back of his mind Trowa remembered Quatre mentioning someone named Stephanie in one of their late-night conversations. He couldn’t remember the tie though. Yet he got the distinct feeling that he was looking at the Stephanie that Quatre had been talking about.

“What’s going to happen to Quatre?.”

     He watched in awe as she re-furled her great white wings. Then she sighed again, looking distraught. Someone else came into his field of vision. She was a tad smaller than Stephanie whom he had been previously addressing. Her hair was cut short and came to her chin. Her smile was entrancing and her eyes held the color of pure gold. He could tell by looking that she was not usually one to be solemn. However circumstances, whatever they were, were making her so.

/If you don’t watch him, Quatre’s going to die./

     That shook Trowa completely out of his reverie.  His tone took on an aspect of one who is being logical and methodical, not missing a single word or thought; and not of one who had seen an angel.

“What’s threatening him?”

     The second angel gave a short and harsh laugh. Now that Trowa looked at her, he noticed that some of her feathers were gone. In her divine countenance he saw several livid bruises and a thin trail of blood tracing its way down her cheek. She looked as if she had taken a beating. She must have realized that he was scrutinizing her. She spoke.

/I don’t have time to be cryptic. I’m a guardian angel. Quatre’s to be precise. Our job is to make sure that our protectorate does not come to harm. Meet your guardian Stephanie. The short end of it is that I’m not going to be able to do my job much longer./

     She paused and coughed. Trowa noted that her palm was flecked with blood. He said nothing, waiting for her to speak again. After a small moment she continued.

/If what I think is going to happen, happens then Stephanie here will be doing double duty, protecting you both. It is absolutely imperative that you get in touch with Dorthy Catalonia./

     Trowa felt his eyebrow raise. “Why her?”

     The second angel rolled her eyes and looked upward as if seeking guidance---or perhaps, permission. Whatever it was that she was looking for she got it. She looked back at Trowa and took a deep breath.

/Let me tell you a story, about a long time ago, back in the first years----/

-End Part Seven

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