Makai ouji one shots

It•will•get•better

Raphael, God heals.
That's my name and I was always trying to live up to it.
But by now, I wonder if this burden was to heavy...

God will solve it, God will heal all wounds. The thought of it was everything I needed to go through times of suffer and darkness.
If I could be happy with this thought, maybe others would be too!
Yeah, my cherish self was build in the time of darkness and suffer.
During Lucifer's, our very own brothers, rebellion.

Sometimes when I sleep, I can still hear them crying and praying for the lord to save them.
All those blood covered angels who I tried to heal, tried to save.
And yet, so many of them died.
I don't know what was sadder to watch: Those who died in tears or those who died with an emotionless impression, showing their pain my biting their under lip till it started bleeding, being proud to die for heaven.
But their eyes, if I even was able to see them, their eyes were the same.
Showing fear, pain and sorrow.
Wanting to live but knowing that they will die.
A hint of hope that I as the angel of healing will save them was there.
But they were so many, and isn't it sad that I can only remember those who died?

The powers are faceless, or at least for all enemies they are.
With the time, I wondered if  some of my siblings thought the same way, if They thought the same way.
If even they have forgotten how they looked like.
What's in their minds?
We use them as if they were heartless, faceless weapons who have no reason for living but to serve us.
And its sad but most of the time I catch myself thinking that that's also what they think.

There was one angel, I never knew his name and by now I think I should have asked, I could never forget him.
He had white short hair which was going to his chin and amber eyes, you could almost say it was a very light mix of brown and red.
When he removed his mask to breathe easier and I saw his face, I nearly cried.
He reminded me of a young Michael, even if his face shape and his eyes aren't the same, it was as if my brother was there in front of me injured, bleeding a red hole in his robes, sweating and in pain.
And his surviving is in my hands.

I don't know if he noticed my sad expression or the fact that I covered my mouth as if I would throw up any second.
He looked directly in my face, mouth shaking in pain, and formed a small smile.
He smiled. He was wounded, would probably die but he smiled.
I was so shocked that I couldn't even move to start healing him.
'What a luck, the angel of healing in person is the one save me!' he said.
I was still shocked, so instead of making anything useful I asked why he smiled.
The answer he gave made me what I am today.
'Because God will solve everything, and love may once more surround our heaven and once more, we will sing and praise the lord for he has saved us!'
He said that in such a happy and optimistic voice that I had to believe him.
But minutes which felt like days were going by, and I couldn't save him.
I couldn't save him, but the fact that he still believed, that he still had hope and died with a smile saved my faith.
But it killed me just the same.

Did I mention? Did one of them even noticed?
I put ecstasy on myself.
I blinded my soul and heart with something that should be used to make humans into puppets.
But they never doubted, they never feared with the ecstasies on them.
What a life, no sorrow in their eyes...
But neither humanity.
Well, luckily I was never once human.

After Lucifer's fall, and during those last hours of darkness, I never lost my faith, never lost my smile.
And you know what?
So did neither of them lose the hope that I could maybe save them.
It left my heart in sorrowful sadness mixed with cheerful happiness.
From this point on, I was always like that.
Happiness is encouraging, so I promised to be happy whenever I could.
Of course the ecstasy never made me into a real puppet like the humans we brought to heaven were, so I still had the mind to make decisions by myself and of course I could live different and stop the ecstasy, but I never wanted to.

Michael wasn't as happy as me.

No matter how much I tried to make him happy again, my cheerful self never helped him and it even seemed to annoy him. Yes, I was never able to heal Michael. I could heal his wounds but I was never able to heal his heart and soul, no word of encouragement could reach him, no smile warm him.
But I never gave up, not that it helped.
I was able to make all the others laugh, to make them forget their endless battles, but not Michael.
I couldn't save my brother. I couldn't heal his fearful and rage filled heart. I couldn't save him from himself.

You see, I should have noticed so much earlier.
Should have stopped it, should have done something.
But no, I let them throw Michael into prison.
Of course I tried to change Metatron's mind but it didn't help and I didn't even made much effort to.
'God will solve this' I thought.

But oh, how wrong I was.

When I heard that Michael escaped, I should've fight for him.
But once more, I didn't and declared him as a fallen angel together with Uriel.
Of all people Uriel helped him as I haven't.
'So I lost both of my brothers, I lost them because once more I wasn't strong enough.'

Or that's what I thought.

When I heard the church bells all around the world ringing, I thought that finally everything would be solved and somehow we could live together like always.
But Michael faded away.

'I didn't lost both of my brothers and even got a new one!' I thought to myself.
I already knew that deep down I just wanted to repress Michael's death, that I lost him.
I just wanted to stay optimistic and forget about my weakness, my weakness to handle the pain after Lucifer's fall like all the others did, the weakness to solve things by myself instead of waiting for Father to fix them.
I thought that maybe some more years and I can go to sleep and who knows?
Maybe it will be better when I wake up.

Maybe it will get better.
-Raphael