“Carry me, Raz!”

Raz looked down at the little fox girl, her arms held out to him, hands opening and closing as she hurried alongside him on the path into the village. “Carry yourself,” he told the child gruffly.

She clasped onto his much larger hand with both of her smaller ones. “Please, Raz. I’m tired.”

The angel sighed, knowing she would whine the whole way to the village if he didn’t. He pulled his hand from hers and grabbed her under her armpit, lifting her to his hip.

“Your shoulders!”

To his shoulders she went, her fingers tangling into his blonde hair as she hummed and swayed joyously along, little feet kicking out and gently bouncing against his chest.

Raz glanced down at his nephew, the young boy practically jogging to keep up with the taller angel’s long strides. He didn’t slow down for the child. Life wouldn’t show the young fallen angel any mercy, and neither would he.

Ren wasn’t much for complaining or whining. Whether or not he liked something, he tended to accept it with a grace that most adults didn’t even possess. He was wise beyond his years, and had never had the benefit of viewing the world through the enchanted eyes of a normal child. It would have been a great disservice to the boy for Raz to have allowed it.

He didn’t need to be coddled.

The same couldn’t be said for the girl.

But even though Raz tried, he knew he fell short.

It wasn’t something that was easy for the man. He could provide the food and clothes and bed and home. He could teach them the things that they needed to know in order to survive. But that was only a very small part in raising a child. They required so much more. Attention, love, affection. Things that the angel had never been given, and, in turn, struggled to offer.

And Sakura needed so much more than he was already barely managing to give.

The girl had appeared in his life a husk of a person, all the parts but none of the workings. He hadn’t even been sure whether or not she would survive the first night as malnourished and fragile as she was. All he could do was sit close by and listen to the gentle breathing of the two sleeping children, praying that one didn’t trickle out into silence. But she had woken the next day, quiet and hollowed eyed, too afraid to look at the older angel, always clinging to the younger.

That lasted only a few days until she turned into pure, unfiltered hellfire seemingly out of nowhere. The screaming and running and laughing and throwing and crying. She never stopped and Raz had no idea where this girl had come from and the other had disappeared to. Day in and day out, he felt himself plummeting further and further into chaos, his home in shambles and his mind following closely behind.

But the girl, intentional or not, always had a way of knowing just when Raz was at his breaking point. She would crawl into his lap and look up at him with her bright, emerald eyes, take his face in her tiny hands and kiss the ugly scar on his cheek. She’d bring him wildflowers, dirt sprinkling from the exposed roots at the bottom. She’d hold his hand, smiling up at him like he was worthy of being smiled at, and tell him that she loved him without hesitance.

Words that he felt but couldn’t say back.

No matter how hard he tried.

No matter how much he wanted to.

He knew he wasn’t the best person to raise these children. He knew he didn’t deserve them; their smiles, their laughter, their tears, their love. But for whatever reason, he had been chosen to be the one to care for them. He had been blessed. He wasn’t perfect, so very far from it, but he was going to do everything in his power to care for them until his last breath.

And with any luck, he wouldn’t ruin them in the way that he had been ruined.

As the trees faded and the village came into view, Ren ran ahead to open the door to the shop while Raz grabbed Sakura by the back of her dress, swinging her to the ground, her legs going before her feet even touched. She dashed past the boy as he held the door open and waited for the man. Raz walked past, nodding at the boy and ruffling his dark hair. The young angel quickly joined the fox in looking at a box of plump oranges, their skins bright and shiny and emanating the sweet, citrusy aroma of the juicy fruit within.

“Mind yourself,” Raz told Sakura, the girl too busy gawking ravenously at the fruit to pay him any attention. “Make sure she minds,” he told Ren, the boy glancing back and nodding before turning to the girl, grabbing her creeping hand and warning her not to touch.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

At some point she definitely would.

In the beginning, the man had been concerned that the boy would become jealous and start resenting the girl, come to regret ever bringing her home. Possibly turn on her. All Ren had ever known was a life with just him and Raz, an uncle who was never soft or easy on the young child. He wasn’t sure how the Fallen One would respond to seeing the girl receive kinder treatment, to getting her way more often, being punished less severely.

But all of his worries had amounted to nothing. Ren had a way with the girl that was nothing less than impressive. He accepted all of her; the wildness, the sadness, the elation. Every intense emotion was carefully tended to, taking as much time as the girl needed to help her work her way through it. The boy wasn’t flawless. He got mad and irritated and annoyed with the girl. He would yell and snap and lecture her as well. Sometimes there were scuffles, the girl always quick to throw fists, unable to think before acting, her aim always true. And Ren took the brunt of it with bloody noses and busted lips and a willingness to forgive. He always seemed to give her what she needed, whether it be a gentle hug, a reassuring word, or a kick in the ass.

And she looked at him like the sun rose and set on him. Like he was everything. She craved his attention, demanded his time, begged for his forgiveness. The girl noticed every slight change in his stance and expression and mood and coaxed him from the depths of temptation that tried to drag him down. She took a boy who was born in the darkness and pulled him into the light, becoming his shadow and following him everywhere.

Raz pulled the order slip from his pocket and handed it to Torg. The ogre made small talk while checking off what had arrived before going to retrieve the items.

“Raz?”

He looked down, pools of emeralds and sapphires greeting him. “You did it again,” he sighed, irritated but not surprised. “How many time have I told you not to touch?”

“Sorry,” Ren apologized sincerely.

Sakura held the orange up, a puncture from her claw-like nail in its flesh. “Can we eat it?”

The man took the orange and began peeling it. “No other option now. Next time you’re doing extra chores.” He split the orange in half, handing one to each child. “Go sit and don’t touch anything else. I mean it.”

The children obeyed and sat themselves in the middle of the shop, pulling apart the orange segments and stuffing them into their mouths. Sakura finished first, as she always did. Ren handed her his last two bits of fruit, as he always did.

Torg returned with the order and looked down at the orange peel, knowing what had transpired without needing to bear witness. He grabbed the remains, throwing them in the trash, and jotted down the cost. “I got word that the rains returned to the den awhile back,” he told Raz quietly. “It seems like they’re out of the drought and working their way out of starvation. I was told they’re doing well.”

“Good for them,” Raz muttered. He couldn’t care less.

“What’s it been? A year?”

“Give or take a bit.”

Torg bit his tongue and sighed, deciding to speak. “Do you think she should go back? Fox demons are pretty dedicated to the den. They don’t tend to leave. They really do pride themselves in taking care of their own, and she is one of them.”

An agitated grumble escaped the man. The den did pride itself in taking care of its own, so much so that they refused offers of assistance from the neighboring towns and cities for years. Instead, allowing its people to suffer all in the name of that pride. Pride so strong and true, they allowed an orphaned child to nearly starve to the point that death was inevitable and force her out of the den and into his home for him to feed and care for.

Raz looked back at the two children. Ren held his hands out, palms down, as Sakura tried to slap them. She missed twice before making contact and it was the boy’s turn to try.

The angel knew that the ogre meant well and that he wasn’t telling, just informing. But all Torg saw was the rambunctious but darling child with her big, bright eyes and pearly smile. He didn’t see the violent tantrums, the screaming and tearing at herself, the self-hate that spewed from her little mouth. Words she hadn’t learned on her own.

She had gotten better, the fits becoming fewer and longer in between. But she had just had another one the day before, the first in a month or so, when she found her favorite chicken dead in the coop. The hen had been old, well past her prime and ready to go. But the girl had been completely inconsolable as Raz sat on the ground, crushing her to his chest, as she shrieked and fought against him. She was still so thin but possessed an unnatural strength for any child, and was difficult to control. There was nothing he could say or do, just hold her as she screamed and begged irrationally to not be left alone.

Hated.

About it being all of her fault.

That she was the one to kill everyone.

Ren had been in the woods checking snares when he heard the screaming and came sprinting from the trees. Like so many times before, Raz handed the girl off to the boy and he held her tightly, whispering in her ear until she stopped struggling and was reduced to a heap of tears. He wrapped his arms around her waist and picked her up, her arms around his shoulders, and took her inside. The young angel would lay down with her in his bed, holding her and whispering in her ear until she fell asleep and then sneak away to do both of their chores. When the girl woke, she would be back to normal.

But it wasn’t normal. Nothing about the fox’s violent tantrums were normal. She had said that the den didn’t want her, but Raz knew it had been more than that.

They had openly despised her.

Sakura was so happy now, laughing when she won and pouting when she didn’t. Ren smiled softly at her, his eyes never leaving her.

They were so young, but Raz had seen it the moment they both stood before him.

Two children shunned who found solace in one another.

They were two sides of the same coin. Opposite, but needing the other to be whole.

And he needed them.

“I can’t stop you from sending word about her.” Raz laid the coins on the counter and gathered his purchase. “But that girl is no longer the dens. She’s mine. If they want her, then they’re gonna have to come and get her, and they better be ready for a fight.”

Raz had never lost a fight.

He wasn’t going to start now.