(no subject)
Title: The Butterfly Effect Ch. 2
Characters/Pairing: Amakusa/Ange
Summary: Ange is indebted to the worst bank in the world. Continuation to The butterfly effect.
Warnings: Some spoilers for ep 6 I guess, mature themes as well (although nothing explicit).
So this story was supposed to be a really short bonus. Really, really short. Then it got longer.
And longer.
And now you have an entire chapter.
This is basically what I think they would live like in this little alternate universe where he doesn't kill her, where we left off in the last chapter. It's mainly AmaAnge fluff, since I rarely get the chance to write fluff about them.
I hope you enjoy it. Also thanks to my friends that helped me by spellchecking and proofreading and dsada :) You're awesome.
"-no. No way. No way I'm doing that."
"But Ange-sama..."
"No." The seven sisters of purgatory looked at each other when a flustered Ange turned her back on them. Their master was being as hard-headed and unreasonable as ever.
"So what will you do then? Just cook some dinner?" It was Mammon who finally spoke up, tapping her fingers on the table impatiently. "The guy's been through a lot these weeks, and you owe him a lot, too- regular food won't do."
"I know, I know... maybe I can try something more... fancy, for once." Beelzebub's eyes lit up right away, and she floated to the kitchen, excited.
"Yes, yes, you can try that! And you can let me taste it to see if it's good or not~"
"... If I'm going to cook anything, you won't be there, Beelz." Her friend opened her mouth to protest. "Last time you ate everything instead of 'tasting it,' remember?"
"Nn..." She bit her lower lip and Ange crossed her arms. "You know how to hold a grudge, Ange-sama..." Beelz looked at her sisters for support but all she got were accusing stares. "You guys too..."
"I still think it's not enough." Mammon's voice rose again. "We both know that your cooking skills are subpar, Ange-sama. Jumping from mediocre hospital food to a little less mediocre homemade food..."
"Just... let me think." The redhead rubbed her temple insistently. "Maybe I can find something simple and different at the same time, or..."
"Or you could do what I'm telling you to..." Muttered Asmodeus. But Ange growled moodily and Lucifer floated to her side as if to protect her master.
"Ange-sama would never stoop so low! What you're suggesting is...!"
"But it's the only idea we have..." The stake of sloth shrugged. "And it's also the easiest one- I mean, you won't have to do much. Just pose a little and..."
"Tch. I'd rather die first. You're all dismissed."
"Ange-sama..." They all whined at the same time, but as soon as Ange directed her death glare at them, they vanished.
Even if it was hard to accept, Mammon was right: Her cooking skills weren't great, as she was just beginning to learn how to make some rice without burning it all. Trying to cook something fancy in one afternoon could end up in a fire- And she didn't want to add an apartment to the list of things she already owed to that guy.
"When did they say he'd be released anyway?"
"Mammon!" The stake of greed was sitting on the kitchen counter, brushing her brown hair with her fingers. "Why are you still...?"
"We decided that someone had to stay with you in case you tried anything dangerous, Ange-sama. As usual, I won." She made a V sign with her hand. "So, when did they say he'd get out?"
"This afternoon. They didn't give me the exact time since it's 'classified information'..."
All that ridiculous mess had started exactly two weeks ago.
... Or rather, three months ago.
Three months had passed since Ange had fled from Japan to America. As soon as the murder of Sumadera Kasumi in Rokkenjima had been made public, her name was the first one on the list of suspects: It was no secret that Kasumi rented a boat the same day Ange asked an old captain to take her to that cursed island. The Sumadera family, enraged by the death of their last heir, took advantage of this and began using all of their influence in Japan to make sure to portray Ange as the villain, a psychopathic Eva Jr. that killed her poor aunt, even after she had been trying so hard to welcome her to their family- Television, radio, newspapers, all of them started looking for anyone willing to dirty her name, while ignoring the few people that tried to defend her.
And so, after being demonized to hell and back, no ally was left for her in that country- except for one last person... and he was leaving in two days.
"You know, if you're going to be a runaway you should at least do it right. All of Europe is a bit of a hard ass when it comes to border security, so I wouldn't recommend going there... Asia, the Middle East and Africa are all pretty safe to hide, but, proportionally, the life style isn't the best you can get. Never been to South America, and I hate Russia." Ange sighed heavily.
"So where does that leave me, oh great connoisseur?"
"Well, I did say I'd hire you as my assistant." Ange frowned deeply, making him laugh as he handed her a freshly made fake passport. "You can always come to America with me."
She didn't need to think too hard on it. It was the best option: A big country where she wouldn't stand out too much, where she could get a fresh new start. And though it wasn't as developed as Europe's, it had a story of magic of resurrection she could study, just like Kinzo had done in the past. There was nothing to lose.
As for traveling with Amakusa, well...
Let's just say that she had grown used to it.
Ange had decided that she would leave him as soon as they arrived in America, though. Ironically enough, even though Amakusa had been the one that shot Kasumi, he was downgraded to 'accomplice' by the media, so he wasn't nearly as top priority as Ange for the police. He had already spared her life on Rokkenjima - a whim that cost him all his contacts back in Japan - so the least she could do was spare him his own by staying as far away from him as possible.
... Or that was the plan until, at the airport counter, Ange stood both offended and embarrassed in front of a giggling attendant that couldn't hide her amusement any longer after 15 minutes of trying to understand her broken English. Thankfully, Amakusa hadn't left yet, so he fixed the problem right away (while laughing harder than the attendant, too), and then casually pointed out that it'd be hard for her to survive in America alone if she couldn't even speak the local language properly.
She accepted the invitation to live with him grudgingly, with the excuse that she needed to get used to that new, bustling country, and that he wouldn't forgive himself if something happened to her because she couldn't speak English without making a fool of herself (A comment that earned him one especially harsh glare and a painful nudge). It would be just a temporary arrangement- She'd move out as soon as she felt ready to live on her own, and Ange made sure to make that clear to him, who shrugged with a smile, already too used to his prideful little lady's fits to try and reason with her. He went back to his (somewhat) regular job, and left Ange to do as she willed: He'd be fine with it as long as she didn't burn down his apartment.
Bookstores were her first stop: She wanted to start her investigation as soon as possible, and for that, she needed to track down any old magic-related books that could help her develop her own abilities.
The second stop... was the mini market.
As his job only let him go back home two or three days a week, Amakusa's apartment was usually a mess. So in her spare time, after hours and hours of searching every university and library within her reach for old magic-related manuscripts, Ange tried her hardest to turn that place into something a human being could live in and had even picked up a few local cooking books: she could practice her English and learn how to prepare a decent meal by herself. It was a necessity, as she didn't want to eat that disgusting American frozen food for the rest of her life.
"He said he'd hire me as his assistant, but I'm pretty much his maid now, aren't I?"
"No, you're his wife." Ange scowled and shook her head.
"You don't pay your wife for cooking and cleaning the house-"
"He's not paying you, remember?" Mammon cut her off right away, determined to win their little discussion. "Because you never paid him anything in the first place."
She couldn't deny that. After barely escaping Rokkenjima, they had been so busy keeping a low profile, getting fake passports and documents, and avoiding the police to sneak out of Japan safely, that neither of them remembered the money issue at all until they finally arrived in America. And when Ange brought it up, Amakusa just shrugged, and smiling relaxed as always, said that he didn't even care anymore, so she shouldn't either.
... Then, when she asked him if he had hit his head during that particularly rough turbulence back in the plane, he just laughed harder and completely ignored her when she tried to talk about it again.
"Why do I owe him, anyway? You do know he was going to kill me, right?"
"Yes, except he didn't. And he freed you from the Sumaderas, too. And..."
"I know!" Ange threw her arms to the air and then plopped on the couch, defeated- There really was no way of getting out of it.
She hadn't forgotten. She hadn't forgotten all that gratitude she had felt back in Rokkenjima.
She was indebted to Amakusa in every possible way.
And the worst... was that he didn't seem to care. He had never asked her anything in exchange for his help: Cleaning and cooking had all been her ideas. He didn't even ask her to pay rent, either: At most she bought some food for both of them, but once again, Amakusa had never asked her to do that either. If something was lacking he'd buy it himself. It just made her feel even guiltier, like she was forced to show her gratitude somehow.
"You could always..."
"For the last time, no." Mammon glared at her and Ange glared back. "It's... it's ridiculous. He didn't even mean it- you know that guy is never serious."
"So? That doesn't mean he won't like it. And if he doesn't, at least he'll laugh- You'll cheer him right up! It's a win-win situation, see?"
Sure... for him. For Ange it was a lose-lose situation however you looked at it.
Two weeks ago, Ange was watching the news: Her English had gotten much better, and while she wasn't confident enough to have a fluid conversation with an American yet, she could understand what they were saying to her most of the time. They were worthless news reports as usual: The latest pop group had split and its fan girls were a crying mess because of it, and some famous politician's house had been broken into. She was only half-listening until some dramatic music started playing.
"... A shooting has taken place in the streets of our city just minutes ago- Our sources tell us that it might've been a fight between two gangs. Our team is there right now and..." The woman stopped talking for a second, before nodding. "They're already there with exclusive footage of... Nick, can you hear me?"
"I can, Sarah." The audio wasn't the best, and the camera shook violently. "Four agents of the Blackwater private military corporation have been shot by, according to witnesses, three Asian men: yakuzas. Fortunately no civilian is hurt, but- ow!"
... Blackwater? Why did that name sound so familiar? And since when did America have yakuzas, anyway? Interest piqued, Ange sat straight on the couch. The reporter couldn't speak anymore, though: It was useless between all the hysterical screams of women and children and the ambulance's deafening crying. The cameraman made his way to the scene alone: Four men in suits were on the ground, surrounded by civilians and policemen that yelled instructions to the people around them while desperately trying to help the wounded, some of them even taking their clothes off to use them as bandages.
But wait-
"You have to be kidding me..."
The cameraman had to stop shooting when the paramedics arrived to the scene, but Ange had seen enough.
Bathed in blood and barely conscious, Amakusa laid on that street by his comrades' side.
"For the Sumaderas to find out exactly where you were hiding in this big country... they sure have a lot of influence, don't they?"
"I don't remember them being this powerful, though, and their connections in Japan shouldn't mean anything overseas either... But it's not like it matters anymore." Ange resolutely rose to her feet. "As soon as he gets back here, I'm moving out."
"What...? But where are you going to live then?"
"I don't know. But that guy nearly got killed because of me- I have to run somewhere and stay away from people. I don't want anyone else getting caught in my mess, not anymore." She ignored her friend's exasperated sigh."... I guess I want to repay him for everything he's done, too, but he's refused to take any money from me since we got here, and I really have nothing else to offer."
"What about 'Thank you for everything'?"
"Please. We're talking about Amakusa here." Mammon raised an eyebrow.
"That's kind of harsh of you. But if you can't offer him money and think that a heartfelt 'thank you' isn't enough, then..."
"No."
"Ah, geez... Do you have a better idea, Ange-sama?"
"... Not yet..."
"Well, it's 7 o'clock already so you better hurry. There's a super market nearby, and I'm sure we'll find some of those things there. Just call us when you make up your mind." And with a wink, she left in a flurry of butterflies.
Oh, if she could just...
... food... money... they weren't enough- They weren't enough. Just what could she...?
... Was it really the only option?
More importantly, was she that desperate to show her gratitude?
The memory of Amakusa lying in the middle of that bloody mess flashed through her mind, and she felt guilt pool in the pit of her stomach.
Was she?
It was already dark when he finally got back to his apartment, sighing gleefully as he heard the familiar sound of the elevator responding to his call. Oh, how he missed his sofa so dearly... Blackwater's private hospitals were really luxurious, yet no big bed could replace the soft cushions of a man's couch.
Curiously enough, the lights were off. Had the little lady gone out somewhere that late at night? He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. That city was too damn dangerous even for a feisty girl like her- But all he could do now was wait for her to return.
"No... I just... can't. I can't do it."
Oh. So she was in there. Who was she talking to, though?
"I'll go change now... Yes I will. Yes I will... St... stop it, Asmo...!"
"Ange-san?"
"...!"
Silence.
"Ama..."
"Is everything OK?" He opened the door with his key only to be greeted by darkness. "What are you doing, talking to yourself in the dark? Have you really missed me so much that you've lost it, lady~?" Ugh, that was just like him- that bastard could be at the verge of death and still mock her.
"Shut up... wait, wait, wait don't turn on the li...!"
It was too late, though, and the lights blinded them temporarily.
Oh, if they could only blind him permanently.
As soon as her own eyes got adjusted to the brightness, she heard the door closing and a soft gasp coming from somewhere near it.
"W... welcome home... I guess..."
"..."
'Good, at least he's speechless for once,' she thought.
... Too bad that was also the first time she wished he would say something.
Finally daring to raise her eyes from her feet, Ange looked at her former bodyguard slash assassin, who was standing with his back against the door, eyes open wide and lips slightly parted. Not even during the most dangerous chases back in Japan had she seen him so shocked.
Was the sight of her only in an apron really so disturbing?
'... Of course it is, you idiot.'
She couldn't really remember exactly how she had ended up in that situation- even as she handed the money to the cashier she bit her lips with uncertainty, and every time she felt like throwing that accursed apron to the garbage on the way home, the sisters would whisper words of courage, especially Asmodeus, who seemed extremely proud that her idea had been acknowledged. And as she put on that apron over her clothes, the words 'It's not enough' would resonate in her head and she'd start listing all the things he had done for her and weighing them against the things she had done to thank him.
She had taken her clothes off the moment that difference felt like too much- and was about to put them on again...
... Just to be interrupted by his arrival.
... Why couldn't she have listened to Mammon and thanked him like a normal person...? Even if it 'wasn't enough' for a guy like him...
Time passed painfully slow as she waited for a reaction- anything would do, laughter or whatever, she didn't care anymore as long he said something.
"W... would you just... Ah!"
But Amakusa suddenly brought a hand to his face and lowered his head- Oh, so he really was going to laugh at her after all...
... or so she thought, until two blood drops stained the carpet beneath him.
"Amakusa! Are you OK?" She ran to the kitchen, hastily grabbing a towel from the sink. "Are you still hurt?" He tried to say something but she pushed the towel to his face before he could "If you are, we should go to the hospital now- just let me..." But he shook his bloody hand in front of her face.
"I'm alright..."
"But you're bleeding."
He raised his head to look at her with a smirk. He was indeed bleeding...
... from his nose.
"Y... you...! You really are...!"
"A man?" He finished with a nasal voice, and Ange slowly backed off, once again aware of her current situation. "You seem to forget that every so often. B... but this... This is really... I don't... pff... fufu..."
"I get it already... You can laugh all you want now..."
And he did: However, he wasn't mocking her at all. He seemed to be having some kind of breakdown- Ange couldn't really come with a better word to describe it, watching him shake his head insistently as if trying to wake up.
"... I don't even know what I did to deserve this..." He said, finally regaining his composure and she growled. Was he really going to make her say it?
"What do you mean, you don't know? They almost killed you because of me-"
"Because of you?" He echoed, tilting his head. "What are you talking about, Ange-san? This shooting had nothing to do with you." She stopped pulling down the hem of her apron then, and frowned; but Amakusa didn't seem to be joking this time.
"But... the news said you were attacked by Yakuza... Japanese mafia- That could've only been the Sumaderas..." Amakusa's laugh interrupted her again.
"Aaah, little lady. There's something you have to know about Americans: They're completely unable to tell us Asians apart." And he answered before Ange could ask again: "My shooters were Chinese. Those journalists just like the word 'Yakuza' because it sounds exotic."
"Wha..."
"It's an old story, but I was ordered to kill a Chinese businessman a while back, and... well, they've been following me ever since."
He finished cleaning his nose then, and stepped forward- just to have Ange pull back like a frightened animal. So it wasn't her fault! ? All the humiliation she was going through... all of it...
"Damn... damn it...!" She heard him sigh, a blissful grin on his face.
"Ah... you're killing me here, lady. That embarrassed expression really suits you."
"SHUT UP. Y... You...!" Her hands made a desperate effort to cover wherever his eyes would land upon. "Would you stop staring at me?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Excuse me? Why are you wearing that if you don't want me staring at you?"
"Because...! Because I thought you had been shot by the Sumaderas!" She was talking about it like it had been his fault that the news had gotten the shooters' identities wrong. "And I felt... guilty... I guess."
"Guilty?"
Ange wondered if he was playing dumb just to tease her: However, he had a genuine surprised face, looking at her in the eye for a change.
He really didn't know what she was talking about.
"Look, you've been really kind to me: Helping me escape from Japan, and then helping me adjust to this insane country... You've done a lot and I haven't done anything to thank you." He opened his mouth but Ange raised her hand. "I'm also dangerous, you know. If the Sumaderas somehow find out where I am, you'll be in trouble as well- So I better tell you now that I have your... attention: I decided that I'm moving out."
"What?" Amakusa frowned. "Ange-san, do you realize that if you move out you'll just be an easier target for them?"
"You underestimate me. And it has nothing to do with my safety, anyway: I'm telling you that it's for your own..."
"I don't mind..."
"But why! ?" She finally snapped. "I don't get it! You... you... I know you." She pointed at him accusingly. "At first I thought you just wanted money, but you haven't even taken a single yen from me. Why are you helping me, then! ? I don't...!"
"Whoa, whoa, Ange-san, stop." He made a time-out sign with his hands. He had been ever so relaxed with his back on the wall during her hissy fit, and he finally stood up straight on his feet. "I thought I had been rejected and you were ignoring me- I didn't think you were this dense."
"... huh?"
"I guess your smarts only work when it's about solving puzzles and mysteries, huh." He shrugged. "It's not so complicated. Answer this, lady: Why does a man help a woman?"
Ange blinked- Her confused expression only lasted a few seconds though, before being replaced with a frown, cheeks slightly flushed.
"You... want to sleep with me?"
He burst out laughing, and she felt her face glow even brighter.
"I guess that's a correct answer too! And I'm not saying I don't want to..." He winked. "But it goes a bit beyond that."
"Beyond..."
He rolled his eyes. It was going to take her forever.
"I like you."
"..."
There was a long pause.
"... I did say I had a crush on you on Rokkenjima, remember?"
"... I thought you were joking." He chuckled, shaking his head from side to side.
"So you thought I was joking when I said I liked you but not when I said the apron thing? Your mind works in wondrous ways."
Ange was too taken aback to answer, though. She felt a hundred times more conscious of her current situation- and she wished her arms were twice as big, as they felt too thin to cover her body from his hungry eyes.
He liked her... liked her.
"Let me guess. You thought I was joking when I flirted with you, too?" She only nodded, too distracted by those damned butterflies that mercilessly tickled her belly. "Wow. Ok, let me tell you something, little lady: I was never joking." He took a step forward- she took two steps back. "Remember back when I was working for Eva, and told you that I wouldn't mind taking a few shots for your pretty face? I meant that."
"... Stay away from me..."
"And remember when I said that I wouldn't mind sleeping in the car every day as long as you'd let me use your nice legs as a pillow? I meant that, too." Ange quickly started pulling down the hem of her apron, that felt incredibly small now, for some reason. "And remember when I said on the plane that I could help you revive the Ushiromiya name in the old fashioned way whenever you wanted?"
"You... meant it?"
"From the bottom of my heart."
Ange felt her bare back touch something solid then - a wall, probably - But she didn't dare to take her eyes off Amakusa, especially when he was cornering her like some sort of predator, trapping her against the wall. And with a victorious smile, he reached for her side.
"... Door knob...?" She muttered.
"... You should be more aware of your surroundings. This is exactly why you're an easy target, Ange-san."
... It was the door to the bedroom.
She barely had time to process that- He opened it and with a swift, calculated maneuver, took her in his arms, grinning at her attempts to run away, her body wriggling to avoid the uncomfortable, almost electrifying feeling of his hands caressing places she didn't even know existed.
"Remember those times..." Ange let out a humiliating gasp as she was thrown on the large bed, desperately trying to cover herself. "... I'd touch you around here 'by accident' in the middle of a shooting?"
He climbed on top of her then, fingers ghosting over the inside of her thighs and sliding upwards... Until something hard hit his left cheek, with so much strength that he felt numb for moment. Amakusa had to blink a few times to recover himself from the shock, and Ange raised her hand menacingly again.
Though her voice wavered, and her face was as red as her hair, she raised her chin with dignity:
"Let me go. Now." He snickered in response, pressing his palm against the reddening skin of his face. "I'm serious!"
"Or what? You'll slap me again...?" Growling, Ange clenched her hand into a fist, but he laughed again. "That's cute. But you see, they just pulled 9 bullets out of my body, Ange-san." He got a hold of her two legs and put them around his waist. "You'll have to try much harder if you want to get rid of me."
"Mn...!"
He took advantage of her half open mouth, tongue easily sliding in to tease her own, staring into her eyes as if daring her to bite him- Oh, and how tempting it was, but Ange couldn't bring herself to do it, uselessly fighting his weight as her tongue followed his, exploring her mouth shamelessly with wet, obscene sounds. She couldn't hold back a moan when his hands started to caress her legs again nor a gasp when he groaned back, his voice vibrating in her mouth in a way that made her head spin. Nibbling her lower lip gently, he let her go so she could catch a breath, grinning against her cheek.
"S... so, lady? Do you still think I'm kidding?"
"Hah... N... no... But I think you're a creep now..."
"Ah, but you already knew that." Ange tsked again, yet her arms had stopped pushing him away, and her legs relaxed in his hands.
"So what now? You'll just... force me to...?" He chuckled and shook his head.
"I'm not THAT much of a creep. I won't force myself on you-"
"What do you call this then! ?"
"... let me rephrase: I won't force myself in you." Ange took a hold of his ponytail, viciously pulling it back, dignity completely lost as her face was beet red. "Haha, A... Ange-san is embarrassed...! Ow, ow!"
"You- You are- Beyond..."
He didn't let her continue, raining short kisses on her lips, jaw and nose, lips cold against her flushed skin. And though gradually, her hand stopped pulling his hair and her disgruntled growling turned into pants that mixed with his own heavy breathing.
Maybe... she could get used to it...
... it didn't feel bad.
He grinned when she looked away, ashamed by her own thoughts.
"You're so cute I'd eat you right now- literally."
"... I wish those stupid Chinese men had killed you..."
"Heh, you need to be more honest with yourself. " She felt the urge to hurt him again, just to wipe that stupid triumphant grin off his face. "So, Ange-san? Do you still want to move out?"
"... You could give me some time to think, you know."
"Tch, fine. You have five seconds to give me an answer before I do us both a favor and tear this damned apron off of you." She was about to complain- but her voice got caught in her throat and her body jumped again when he kissed her breasts through that thick fabric, gradually moving towards her stomach to hum on her belly.
"I... I can't think if you keep..."
"Heh, I know. You have two seconds left, miss. Yes or no?"
"Nn..."
Two seconds were more than enough to stop him- unfortunately, they were also enough for him to distract her.
"Ah..."
One second down.
Her hands took a fistful of the sheets around her as he went even lower down her stomach, spreading her legs, slowly kissing a path towards her...
"Hah...!"
And as she covered her hot face with her hands, cursing her body for being so sensitive, for making her waste those two seconds in embarrassing moans, she felt that warm cotton cloth abandon her, his breath tickling her humid, soft folds, and his lips curved into a smile that promised a busy, busy night.