Both Nacina and I went outside to check it out, and once again, I saw the Guardian up close. He was fighting an enemy with black, feathered angel wings and a plain white mask—one without any eyeholes. There were three reasons this situation was weird. First, an Infaniyan battle getting this close to the land more than once a year is almost unheard of. Second, all the Afarions I've heard of have bat-like wings, not gigantic feathery ones. And third, our Guardian... he was bleeding from a wound in his stomach and coughing up blood.
As long as I've been alive, there's never been a report of OUR Angel getting hurt in battle.
My heart ached for him. It hurt even more when I noticed all the people standing around, only watching—some even smiling and taking pictures, as if this was a movie and not a real person in pain in front of them.
What should I do in this situation?!
"What the hell did you do to me?!" our Guardian screamed, then promptly hunched over, gagging in pain. His opponent didn't reply—he just hovered there silently, watching.
I looked around once more... no one was doing anything to help him.
The Guardian tried to spread his wings to take off, but he collapsed back to the ground, weakly.
"Things are getting dangerous. We should move away," Nacina whispered—but for some reason, I didn't hear her. My legs moved on their own, and I stood in front of our Guardian. I dropped to my knees to check over his wounds. He flinched at my touch. His skin was incredibly hot, yet it didn't bother me at the moment. I started rummaging through my schoolbag, looking for cloth to stop the bleeding.
"What are you doing?" he snapped. His tone was abrasive, but I was too worried to care. I pressed my gym shirt against his wound and said,
"I want to help you."
His eyes widened, and then he swatted my hand away.
"I don't need anyone's help," he retorted. But then, suddenly, he regained enough strength to get back on his feet.
"Angel, are you sure you're okay?" I asked, concerned.
"DON'T CALL ME THAT!" he shouted, and I recoiled, startled.
"You win this time," a voice from above announced. I looked up. It came from the masked figure. His mask had cracked, blood dripping from beneath it. He had dark brown hair, and from his exposed hand, I could tell he had light brown skin. The rest of him was concealed behind a dark green cloak.
It doesn't make sense that he'd need to hide his identity... because who is he? I'm sure no one would recognize him anyway.
"No! This isn't over until you're dead!" the Guardian shouted, leaping from the ground with flames covering his limbs—but before he could reach him, the Afarion vanished.
"Damn it!" he growled, slamming his fist into the ground, making the earth rumble. Then he dusted himself off. I noticed the blood had dried, and his wounds had already healed.
I started to walk away, relieved—but then he called out.
"Hey, you! Wait!"
His voice was so forceful that I froze.
"My name is Serco. What's yours?" he asked in a commanding tone.
I turned back timidly.
"A-Akina," I replied. I fought past my nerves to look up at him.
Then he grinned widely—for the first time, I saw him smile. It was an awe-inspiring smile—the kind people write songs about. His hair flowed like fire, glowing bright red at the ends. His skin was golden, like pure honey, and his irises looked like dancing flames: red, yellow, white—constantly shifting. Even his sclerae glowed crimson.
"Okay, now we know each other's names. So, do not ever call me an Angel again," he said, in a gentler voice this time.
And then—with a gust of wind—he was gone.
"Akina! You thrill-seeking idiot!" Nacina yelled, then tackled me in a hug. "You can't keep scaring me like this," she complained.
I laughed and hugged her back, but for some reason, my heart wouldn't stop racing...
Oh no. Now that I think about it—I touched his bare chest without a second thought! I probably looked like a complete pervert. I bet he gets that kind of attention all the time and hates it.
The embarrassment hit me all at once, and I had to sit down for a while before sulking back toward Nacina.
We went back into the store, and Nacina ended up picking out a cerulean, form-fitting dress. I hope I can wear my hoodie over it at the party tomorrow.
When I came outside, I noticed a large crack in the sidewalk—that's where the Guardian must've landed. But he didn't fix it. I wonder why? If he hit the ground that hard, maybe he had trouble focusing and overlooked it.
Serco... that name sometimes shows up in Infaniyan history books. But it was never the name of a lowly Guardian... only someone of Infaniyan royalty.
Guardians are usually Infaniya's disposable foot soldiers... so it must be a coincidence.
Nacina let me wash my gym clothes when we got to her house. Then we went to her room, and she pulled out her phone.
"We're ordering pizza tonight. We'll have to compromise on toppings. We can make it half dried tomatoes, pepperonis, and spicy jalapeños straight from the fiery pits of hell—and the other half will be meat lovers, for people with normal taste buds."
I pouted at her jab at my spicy food addiction. It's not my fault she can't handle it.
"Sounds good to me," I replied.
After we ate, Nacina conditioned, washed, and dried my hair. She even used a diffuser to amplify my curls, then forced me to wear a face mask before bed. I can't wait to take this off my face in the morning.
The party didn't start until 5 p.m., but Nacina made a big deal out of making me save my appetite for party food.
"Think about the cake, Aki," she kept saying.
Note: I don't care about cake nearly as much as she does.
I let Nacina treat me like a life-sized doll—doing my hair, my makeup, even helping me with my dress.
Why are fancy dresses so complicated? A simple sundress would've been fine.
"You're so pretty," she said. "Cherry wants everyone to dress formal for this party so she can show off the pictures online. You're going to fit right in."
I didn't believe her, but... it's nice to get compliments sometimes.
Once she was done, she forced me to take a picture with her—and thanks to her enthusiasm, I was beginning to feel a little excited myself.
At 4:30 p.m., Cam showed up as our ride.
"Bye, Mom! Bye, Dad!" Nacina yelled as we left.
"Bye, sweetie! Have fun!" her mom replied.
"I know we're going to have some fun while you're away," her dad mumbled, sipping coffee and casting a gaze toward his wife.
I really like Nacina's parents. They're so lively—like her. And I guess they have plans of their own once we're gone... I wonder what.
It's probably best not to ask.
So I waved goodbye to them and followed Nacina outside.