The lead of the pencil skimmed over the paper, darkening lines and extending some, much pressure never applied. After all, the drawing was almost finished.
The angel on the paper was blindfolded, wisps of long flowing hair falling over the material that blinded her. Under her cheeks were contoured, giving her face a sculpted look, vicious, strict.
Miyazō Seijin frowned at the seraphim she'd drawn on her paper. It was a variation of the one she'd drawn a few days ago, a variation of the one she'd drawn in her last year of high-school. The six-winged angel she'd been drawing since she'd seen the first monster when she was seven.
The monsters were everywhere she looked, on the street, by buildings, in her home; malformed creatures that haunted her sight. They never made any contact with her, but they were still terrifying at her young age. Then she'd drawn the first angel. The majestic being was meant to protect her at all times.
Over the years, Miyazō had created several variations, adding an extra set of wings, a blindfold and a sword. In this drawing, the angel gripped the weapon tightly, the long silver blade resting on her parted lips.
Her robes bellowed around her, ribbons of white encircling her frame. Her three pairs of wings were so large, folding over her body yet still spanning the entire width of the paper.
Miyazō put down the pencil and leaned back in her chair, head turning to look out the window. The sky had gone dark, stars twinkling around her. She let out a breadth as she looked at the city from the top floor of the building.
The top floor of the skyscraper was used as an art gallery, paintings and sculpture littered around the floor. It was supposed to be closed by this time of the night. It was closed but Miyazō needed inspiration, and so decided to hide out in the gallery after it was closed.
She spent the first few minutes strolling around the large floor space, looking at portraits, landscapes, sculptures and all the whatnots people regard as 'art'. Then she sat on a stray table, bright out her sketchpad and pencil and began to draw the angel again.
It had become an obsession and Miyazō didn't know why. Didn't know why she drew the angel so much, didn't know why she haunted her dreams, why she thought of her so much. But she didn't mind, after all, the angel protected her.
So, having finished her drawing, Miyazō packed up and stood up. Just as she took a step, the sound of the gallery doors opening forced her into hiding. She ran behind a large sculpture of a man and hid there, chest heaving as footsteps filled her ears.
"It's a special-grade?" A female's voice rang through.
Miyazō furrowed her brows at the voice. The girl sounded young, definitely younger than her. She inched towards the edge of the sculpture and craned her neck to see around it's bronze stand.
She was right. The brunette girl she saw was definitely younger than her, was definitely a high-school student. So were the other two boys with her. They all wore uniforms. Miyazō heaved a small sigh of relief; they were probably just delinquents sneaking in, not much different from what she was doing.
Just as Miyazō was about to come out of hiding, a white haired man rounded the corner and walked over to the students. Now he was definitely older than her, meaning he may be a staff of the gallery. Miyazō stayed put between the sculpture and a black wall.
Was he a gallery security staff member or was he just aiding the students sneak in? He couldn't be a staff, right? He wasn't in uniform and besides, she would definitely remember seeing such a beautiful face. Even with a blindfold, he was still breathtaking.
Maybe he worked a night shift?
"It's close," the man spoke, "I can feel it's presence. It's definitely a special-grade."
Miyazō had no idea what they were talking about, and she wasn't at all interested. At that moment, she was preoccupied with the horrible feeling that settled in her stomach. It was a grim feeling, like sorrow.
The feeling crept up her belly and clogged her throat. She pushed her back against the wall, trying to get away from the grim feeling while still trying to stay hidden.
Her breathing became heavy as she pulled her legs up to her side. The feeling felt material, like it was a live thing, and it felt suspiciously like it was coming from the sculpture. It was getting worse, growing.
Miyazō swore under her breath. Forget staying hidden, she was going to throw up if she remained there anyways. With another swear, she stood and sprinted from the stature, alerting the group of four of her presence.
Miyazō made the mistake of turning back. A monster, a malformed abomination like the ones she'd seen so often, was escaping from the sculpture. Another scream tore through her throat as she ran behind the white haired man, gripping his arm tightly and shrinking behind him.
The monster was large and humanoid. Long and thick black ropes extended from its head and wrapped around it's body. The skin was cracked and grey with disproportionately long arms sprouting from its shoulders. It had no eyes, no nose, no face on its head, just a blank mass of grey skin.
It wouldn't touch her, the monsters never did. However, this one felt different. This one would hurt her. How dumb did she look? Hiding from something that wasn't there.
"You can see it?" Was what he asked, turning his head to peeked at her.
The question shocked her, made Miyazō freeze, "You too?"
"Max Elephant." The black haired boy made a sign with his hands and a literal elephant, pink with dark markings, materialised by his side.
Miyazō gasped and stumbled back, tripping over her feet. She was caught by the white haired man before her body collided with the ground, and the elephant released a gush of water.
"Come on," the older male lifted her up, arms under her back and her knees, and ran around the corner, taking her away from the fight between the teenagers and the monster.
It wasn't until he'd set her down, many rooms away from the fight, that Miyazō was finally able to speak.
"You can see the monster?" She asked timidly, still shaking from what had happened just moments ago as she sat on the floor, leaning on the wall for support.
He tilted his head, seemingly confused by what she'd said, "Monster? You mean the cursed spirit?"
"Is that what you call it?"
"That's what it's called. They're cursed spirits." His voice was smooth, refreshing.
"You can see all of them? Other people can see them too?"
"You're not used to this, are you?" He crouched down to look more closely at her causing Miyazō to shrink away, "You didn't grow up in a sorcerer family."
"Sorcerer?" She furrowed her brows, confused by what the man was saying.
"Tell me what you know about these 'monsters'." He leaned closer to her.
"I've been seeing them since I was seven. They were in most places. Nobody else saw them, I thought I was just weird, maybe crazy. But they- they were never hostile until today." She murmured.
"I see." He nodded once.
Faintly, Miyazō heard the brunette girl's scream.
"GOJO!" She yelled.
The monster burst through the wall opposite Miyazō, pitch black orbs swirling in his face, imitating eyes. The ropes that extended from it's head floated high for less than a moment before descending towards her direction at a ferocious speed.
Miyazō heard nothing, felt nothing except from a tingling in her gut. A spark of grim feeling exploded in her stomach and ribbons of white appeared at her peripheral. A blade of silver skimmed through her vision as it cut cleanly through the monster, or as the man said, cursed spirit.
The top half of its body slid of its body and fell to the floor, a dark liquid seeped from it's body, a corruption of the human blood. Miyazō turned her neck upwards and was greeted by the face she so often drew, the feathers of wings flapping softly in her peripheral.
Her angel, her seraphim, had appeared behind her and slain the monster.
Miyazō fainted from the shock and the sudden fatigue that exploded in her.