REBIRTH

By NeoBakeneko

The conversation with Phinneas went surprisingly well.  He did not reject Sabin nor attempt to subjugate him to experimentations.  It went better than I thought it would, than I hoped it would.  He used my strengths to protect some old man against another, albeit stupid, of my kind.  There was no shouting, no anger.  I liked the shouting; I liked how it made him feel insignificant and guilty.  Oh, him and his guilt!  I was surprised he could step on a bug without falling into himself with guilt.  Humans and their ridiculous emotions.  But no, there was no shouting and it gave him an extra boast of confidence; which sickened me.  If I was to suffer, trapped within him, why should he walk through life happy?  He at least got to keep his body, his voice, his freedom.

I sat in my corner and watched as he ascended the stairs.  Two flights, down the hall, and a right at the suit of arm…but no.  He went past the armor, no right, and took a left at the painting.  He was going to her room.  The logic behind the constant game between them escaped me.  She liked him, even I could see that, I knew he loved her, yet after going through so much together they slept in separate rooms, she blushed when their hands touch, and he could not think properly when she was in the room.  Another confusing human emotion: love.  What was enjoyable about not being able to breathe, think or speak properly whenever another being comes within five feet of you?  He knocked on the door and waited eagerly for her answer.  No doubt excited to tell her about his great newfound connection with Phinneas.  She opened the door and smiled at him, motioning for him to come in.  I tried to block them out.  I did not want to hear how he saved the old man’s life, or how he was beginning to feel more confident with himself and having a normal life…or any of it.  I wanted to go out and hurt something.  I wanted to feed off of someone’s fear.  I was jaded by Sabin’s, bored with it already.  I needed a new taste.  Something fresh.  The only perk to being stuck in this body, in this world, was that I could do physical damage.  Feeding from their fear in their dreams was one thing, but I could never have imagined the taste of making their fears come true.  I shuddered with the thought as a grin spread across my face.
“You’re shivering.  Are you cold?”
Eh?  Regrettably, I pushed away my delectable images and returned my attention to the real world.  He sat in a chair beside her bed, she sat on the side of the bed, leaning over, resting a hand on his knee.
“No,” he answered, “not sure what came over me.  Must have been a chill.  But, what do you think?  Of Phinneas’ response?”
Me, me, me, me.  If I had to accredit Samantha with anything, it would be her limitless patience with Sabin’s whining.
“I think it is great Sabin.  If anything I have every right to say ‘I told you so’.  I knew he would not turn you away.  Come,” she patted the bed beside her, “sit beside me.  I wouldn’t want you to catch another chill.”
“I—uhm, I’ll go take a bath.  A hot bath.”
Samantha bit her lip and sighed, “Okay.  You go ahead and I’ll go to your room and fetch some clean clothes.”  
She was already at the door when Sabin managed to reply, “You-you want me to use this bathroom?  Yours?”
She shrugged, “Why not?  You are already here.  No sense in you going back to your room.  While you bath I will get your clothes.”  She quickly left the room, probably before he could change his mind.  A moment later she opened the door again and pointed to a small chest of drawers on the other side of the room, “There are towels in there,” and she was gone again.
“In…with your clothes?” Sabin said to an empty room.
I began to return back to my reveries of luscious pain while he hesitantly undressed and settled into the hot water.

Sleep was something I had never really experienced before.  In my own time and world, I suppose I rested as I hopped between dreams.  But since I had become one with Sabin I found when he relaxed I sometimes too fell in; only somewhat conscious of what is going on around him.  This was one of those times.  I half watched with nearly no interest as Sabin cautiously crept out of the bathroom, donning only the large peach colored towel he had retrieved from Samantha’s drawer.  I caught his reflection in the mirror beside her bed; his hair was loose and dripping, and he clutched the towel around his waist,  “I…uh…”
Samantha had been reclining in the chair Sabin previously sat in.  When she looked up at him she grinned.  “I was beginning to worry that you had drowned in there.”
He would have been out much sooner had he not spent a quarter of an hour debating whether or not to put back on the now grungy pants he had worn to the swamp with Phinneas, or to face Samantha wearing only a towel.
”You…got my clothes?”
”Oh yes,” Samantha picked up a lump of black fabric from the bed and bought it to Sabin, “here you are.”
”I-thank you,” he said, and returned to the bathroom.  I noticed when she handed him his clothes there was no shirt.  He, in his haste to get back into the bathroom, had not.  So I was not surprised when he peeked out of the bathroom a few moments later.
“Sam?  I…you did not give me a shirt.”
”Oh?” she said and looked towards the bed where the white shirt sat plainly in view, “Oh, I must not have noticed it when I grabbed your pants.”  She picked up the shirt and stood holding it, “Well?  Aren’t you going to come out of there?”
Hesitantly, he came out and into the middle of the bedroom.  The two stood and just stared at each other.  After several moments, Samantha came over to Sabin and held his shirt out to him.  He took it, but before he could make any further movement she hugged him tightly.  I couldn’t help but squirm and shudder.  All though I can see and hear what he does, all other senses, taste, touch, and the ability to smell things, are dulled.  I know something is there, but I cannot feel it unless I somehow manage to push free and take charge.  Even though I couldn’t feel Samantha, the thought of her body against my shared body, smiling, and sharing that warmth and…love, it made me squirm.  I cannot stand the feeling behind it.  It frightens me, I am not ashamed to admit, and rightfully so, because in a way, it caused me pain.  I would have thought Sabin learned his lesson with that prostitute, whose name I later learned was Annette.  But apparently not.  It seems I shall have to wait for the opportunity to reinforce his learning.
“—are you so afraid of?”
Samantha was still clutching Sabin.  He dropped the shirt to the floor and returned her embrace.  I, if at all possible, attempted to crawl into a deeper corner of his mind.
“What do you mean Sam?”
”Every time we get closer, you push away.  What is it that keeps you from me?  I’m not scared of you or what possesses you.”
I could feel his heart wrench at the memory of that night.
“But I am Sam.”
She looked up at him, “But I am not.  Isn’t it my decision to make as well?”
He sighed, thinking.  Thinking, thinking, he always thought, rarely acted.  Samantha apparently shared my sentiments.
She said as she laid her head on his chest once more, “Oh stop thinking.  Our lives are going to pass us by while we ruminate over events past.  We’re come this far to find a ways to ameliorate your suffering—“
His suffering?  I wanted nothing more than to show her what true suffering was.
“—and yet you refuse to see, to try and see, if we are making any progress.”
He chuckled wryly in response, “And how Sam, do you propose I do that?”
”You could start by standing here and holding me.  No words, just…for once follow your heart and not your mind.”
”Samantha it was my heart and dreams and curiosity that made me what I—“
”Shhh…” she whispered, looking up at him and placing g a finger on his lips.
Through the mirror I could see his face soften as he gave in.  Through his eyes I could see her smile.  He placed a hand on her head and ran his fingers through her hair.  She looked down and I could sense she was tracing a finger down his back and around to his stomach.  Awake now, I watched them through the mirror and his eyes with a sort of sordid curiosity.  She sighed and continued to trace her finger across his stomach.  Examining his scars perhaps?  The lovely gash across his stomach?  I remember that.  He regained control before I could finish them off.  Her hand trailed up his stomach and chest and rested on his left shoulder.  Ahh, those three scars, side by side, the handiwork of my claws.   In the beginning he tried to lock himself into a room, to protect those around him and those outside, complete strangers.  So I decided if I couldn’t hurt them, I would hurt him.  The ludicrous plan of staying locked in came to an end rather quickly.  They were just staring at each other now.  His right hand cradled the side of her face, and his left rested gently on her hip.  I’m still not sure who initiated it, I looked away when I felt it coming; but one kissed the other and it was returned.  I shut my eyes and thought of something else.  Of the last bit of fresh fear I had fed off of.  Of what I would do the next chance I got to push free.  Of anything but them.  But for some reason no matter how hard I tried to push them away, I could still sense her presence.  Her closeness.  If I tried harder, the feeling became stronger.  I did not realize that the barrier between my mind and his was fading until I could nearly taste her lips.  I almost turned away when I realized that this was my chance!  I did not stop to think of what I would do or how, I just pushed forward.  When I opened my eyes again I found my self staring at Samantha’s closed eyes.  I could smell her hair, could feel her hand on my neck, could taste…I pushed her away.  She didn’t go far, her hand still rested on my neck, and my hand on her hip.  She looked down and started to say something.  I wasn’t listening.  I could faintly hear Sabin in the back of my mind.  I wouldn’t let him be happy.  Despite sharing one body, nearly one mind, the murders he has committed, he still managed to find happiness.  Because of her.  She sighed.  I glanced at my hand; my fingertips were turning from rigid flesh to malleable shadow.  She shut her eyes, “Sabin…”
I couldn’t help but grin.
She opened her eyes and stared up at me, her mouth open slightly.
A part of her knew he was no longer with her.  I could see it in her eyes.  I could taste it in the air.
“Sabin?”
My grin grew wider, “Not quite,” I replied.  In one swift motion I pulled my hand back, his fingertips now my claws, and thrust them into her side.  For a moment she stood in shock, and then she screamed.  I let everything that had been festering in me loose.  I screamed and yelled at her.  I cursed her and Sabin both.  Told her that I wouldn’t allow him to be content.  None of it she understood, I knew, for it was in my native tongue.  But I didn’t care.  She would soon be dead.  Another body for Sabin to wake up to.  She backed up, crying now.  I drew closer.  Blood soaked the bottom of her dress and the floor where she stood.  Holding her side she looked around, bit her lower lip, and tried to run past me.  Her face met the palm of my hand and I pushed her back.  She bounced off the side of the bed and hit the floor, but quickly scrambled back to her feet, wobbling slightly.  I continued to yell at her as she stood and stared wide eyed at me.  She was too concentrated on my claws, my teeth and the door behind me, that she hadn’t noticed the thin strands of shadow creeping out form under the bed.  Unlike Sabin I did not have to make an obvious effort to pull them forth.  They wrapped around her ankles and wrists, keeping her still.  And as I drew closer she made ample use of the only part of her body she could use, causing the windowpanes to shatter.  With a tight grip around her throat, I raised my other hand into the air and…and could not move.  Something held me back.  But not physically. Sabin was too far in the corners of my mind to have an affect on me.  Frustration welling up in me I stared down into her fear-filled eyes as tears streamed down her face.  This was what I had been waiting for, why could I not finish it?  Growling I let go of her and retreated, surrendering control back to Sabin once more.  She fell to the floor and he stumbled forward.  Faintly I could hear him frantically screaming her name.  I paid them no further mind.  Instead, I tried to understand why I could not kill her.  I had been waiting for such a chance.  An opportunity to snatch away from Sabin the one thing that gave him happiness, and I could not do it.  I hated myself for it.  I was angry and frustrated and…a small part of me was in pain?  It was not a feeling I quickly recognized.  Over and over I tried to figure it out, and yet, the only image that came to me was her crying face.  A loud banging brought my attention to the real world once more.  He was carrying her; I could see his hands still held some of my features.  The wooden door he stood in front of was foreign to me.  He must have taken her outside.  The door soon creaked open and an older man stood in its frame, holding up a candle and rubbing his eyes.  Sabin nearly threw Samantha at man, who, when noticing the amount of blood, quickly grabbed her and called into the house.  Another man came and took her in.  He turned back to Sabin, opened his mouth to speak, but he must have caught a glimpse of his hands, or some other attribute of mine that still clinged on, for he gasped and threw the candle at him.  Sabin moved out of its way, tossed his money pouch at the man’s feet and ran off.

Minutes, possibly hours had passed, and we still sat in a small alley behind an empty tavern.  Sabin was mad with guilt and grief.  He prayed for Samantha’s recovery and cursed himself for being weak.  He paced up and down the alley, crying, cursing and praying.  He stopped for a while, leaned against the stone wall, and slid down to the ground.  Wiping tears from his eyes he glanced around.  I noticed a small puddle on the other side of the alley.  He crawled over and on hands and knees peered down into it.  He stared into it for a long time, and I at his reflection.
“What is it you want from me?!” he finally screamed.
“I want you to suffer,” I replied, more so to myself than to him.
Somehow, he heard me, and he responded, nearly laughing, “Suffer?  Is it not enough that I bear on my shoulders the weight of the guilt of murders you’ve committed?  Is it not enough that my family is gone?  Is it not enough that, that you’ve tried to kill Samantha?!”
I stared hard at the darkened and warbled reflection in the water; his eyes, our eyes, had a red glow to them.  I watched his mouth move as I spat back at him, “You speak as though you have endured trials and tragedies unimaginable.  Your mother died—“
”You murdered her!”
”She attacked me!  I defended myself the only way I knew how!  I am the one trapped in a body that is not my own!  I am the one trapped in a world foreign to me!  I am the one who suffers!  You have your body, you have—“
”Nothing!  I have nothing!” he bellowed, I could see the knuckles of his clenched fists turn white.  “You have taken great joy in ripping every last bit of happiness that I cling onto away from me!”
”Yet you find more!” I raged back at him.  “For every thread of happiness I rip away from you, you return with an entire spindle!  You have Samantha, you have Tavis, Marguerite, even an old man sworn to hunting my kind down, has accepted you knowing what you are!  It is I who has been left with nothing!”
”She could die!”
”With any luck, she already has.”
Panting, he slapped the puddle, spraying water into his face and down the alley.  I returned to my corner.  He thought this was suffering?  That this was pain?  For a while I thought up things that I could, and if given another chance, would do to him.  Despite his rage and guilt I forced myself to drift further into the caverns of his mind.  I still could not fathom what had held me back, and weary of turning it over, I wanted to fall into that state of unconsciousness that overcame me whenever Sabin relaxed.   But I had not figured out how to do that yet.  So instead I sat and thought some more, and ignored the world around us as Sabin made his way back in a daze.  Even when we returned, and as he talked with Phinneas, I paid no mind.  And while I pondered, there came a thought, a notion had occurred to me.  And it frightened me.  In an attempt to get away from it I returned to the real world.
”I’m going to go see her,” he said as he stood.
His back was already turned to Phinneas; his response was lost to me.

He made his way down the dark halls, at first, hesitant, but as he neared her room, he began to run.  When Tavis had announced to Sabin that she was indeed alive, I wanted to hate him even more.  I wanted to hate her.  But a part of me felt almost happy that she was alive.  I pushed that away.  Another silly notion.

The room was dimly lit when we entered, only a few candles, and she was sitting up in the bed.  She gasped slightly when she saw Sabin and he stood frozen in the doorway.  She forced a smile and said, “You’re okay I see.”
He stood quietly for another moment before he sighed and ran to the side of her bed, falling to his knees.  Between tears he apologized over and over for what happened.  He tried to explain that it was not him but the creature, that he was too weak.  Over and over he blubbered, and all I could think of was why did I hesitate?  I could not come up with an answer on my own, at least not one that satisfied me.  I had to know.  Now.
“I was so afraid that you would die Samantha.  I could not bear it if…”
”Sabin?”
He looked around, confused.  “Something is not right.  I can…feel it.  In the back of my mind.  It is as though…”  When he figured out what I was doing he jumped to his feet and ran for the door.  But it was too late.  I stood, panting slightly, with one hand on the door handle.  My fingertips already turning black.
“Sabin?  What is wrong?”
I turned and stared hard into her eyes.  She knew as soon as our eyes met that Sabin was once more pushed away and it was I who stood in front of her.  She moved away as I came closer.  But I must have done more damage than I realized, for she groaned in pain, holding her side and didn’t go any further.
“I am going to take great pleasure in killing you,” I hissed at her, half in my native tongue.  She understood the word kill; her eyes widened at the word.  “And then I am going to destroy Sabin.”
”You can’t!” she shouted.
“I already am!” I replied, now inches from her face.  Once again I was close enough to smell her hair and her skin.  And…it did not nauseate me…  “Once you are gone it will be easier to take over.  I will have complete control over this body.  Sabin will be no more.  Every day that passes he becomes more and more like me.  And soon—“
”You are wrong!” she stammered out.  “While I laid in that hospital afraid that I would die, I realized that you had the chance to kill me.  And you did not.  Why?  I asked myself over and over, if you hate us so much why did you not kill me when you had the chance?”
“I—“
”Because while parts of Sabin becomes more like you, while parts of him look like you, you are becoming more human.”
There.  She said it.  The thought that ran through my mind earlier that I pushed away.  I was becoming…human.  Just the sound of it infuriated me.
“B-because,” she continued, getting braver with each second, “because the only thing that changes with Sabin is his physical appearance, but you, you’re becoming more human.  With human emotions.  And human…”
I clenched my fists as the anger in me grew.  Her voice had faded but every time she said the word “human” it was loud and clear.  I grabbed her face fiercely, mostly to stop her talking, and stared into her eyes.  It only took a few seconds before her eyes widened slightly and she gasped.  I let go of her and headed for the window, half listening to her confused and scared crying as she curled up into a ball on the bed.

I ran through the back alleys furiously.  I did not want to be human.  I did not want to feel preposterous emotions. Was that the reason I could not kill her that night?  Was that the reason I felt a sort of pain when I left her crying?  While I stumbled through the alley I heard a voice.  I followed it and found myself looking down at a very drunk man, cursing his empty bottle.  A grin spread across my face; if I could not hurt her then I would find someone I did not feel some sort of attachment to.  At first he thought it was the liquor, and he laughed at me.  I laughed back.  I continued to laugh as my claws ripped into his chest.  Then he screamed and tried to run.  I caught him, easily.  But I felt no joy, no pleasure.  As sharp shadow-like tendrils ripped and tore at him, I felt more like a child poking at a plate of food it did not want.  Sighing, I tossed his remains to the side.  Was this…guilt?  Perhaps I was relying on too barbaric of an approach.  Perhaps I needed to return to an older method.  I crept to the edge of the building, concealing myself in the shadows.  I attacked anyone within reach of my abilities.  Drilling fear into their hearts, grabbing them and pulling them into the shadows, controlling their actions, bringing their nightmares to life, even merely confusing them brought me no satisfaction.  I could not bear to see their contorted, fear-stricken faces.  It pained me.  What were these feelings?  Guilt? Pain?  Why should something that bought me such pleasure cause me anguish now?  I did not want to be human!  I withdrew into the alley, and cowered into a corner.  Why should I be the one to succumb to his ways?  Why is he not becoming more like me?  For the first time in my life…I was afraid.  I did not know what it was like to be human, to have these emotions.  I did not want to know…or did I?  Nothing made sense anymore.

I spent hours in that alley, possibly days.  It felt like days.  I felt physically tired.   But I refused to sleep or rest, I did not want to give Sabin a chance to get control again.  As I fought to stay awake, I faintly heard a voice.  It was not his.  In fact it was calling his name.  I looked around hesitantly.   It was still dark out, only a faded blue began to creep up the horizon as morning came.  Standing half in the light was Samantha.  I could see the shadow of another person further down the alley but I was not sure who it was.
“Sabin?”
When I did not respond she came closer, squatting down beside me.
”Sabin are you all right?  Sabin?”
”No!” I hissed at her, “I am not Sabin!”  I did not have the energy to threaten her, nor did I feel like it.  They no longer held any meaning; she and I both knew that.
“Please.  Please let Sabin have control once more.”
After I tried to kill her, threatened to do so several times, why did she still want to talk with me?  “Why should I?” I replied.
“Because….you, you are not used to this.  To being in control for so long.  You must be tired and uhm, hungry?”
It was true; I did feel a sort of hunger.  But what normally satiated me no longer worked.
She inched closer, “Please…”
I wanted to talk with her now.  I wanted to understand these emotions.  But she wanted Sabin back…”Fine.  I will give you Sabin…”
“Thank you.”
But in truth I had no intention of relinquishing my control to Sabin.  I wanted to see what it was like to be human.  I looked away from her; would I be able to conceal my physical attributes that so easily leaked through when I was in control?  Did he know what I had been thinking all this time?  I became so enthralled with trying to understand these emotions and what I felt, I had forgotten about the voice in the back of my head.  After all that I had tried to do to him, would he help me now?
“Sabin?” she whispered.
I looked down at my fingertips, the nails were long but they were no longer black.  I hoped my eyes no longer glowed red.
“Sabin?” she repeated.
I turned to her; she did not look confused or shocked.
”Is that you?”
”…yes,” I said quietly.
She squealed and jumped on top of me.  My first instinct was to lash out at her, but as I realized she was only …hugging me, I controlled the urge.
“I was so worried about you!” she cried into my ear.
It sent an odd tingle down that entire side of my body.  Was that normal?  I suddenly realized I knew nothing of what was considered normal for humans.  I spent more time trying to scare or hurt them than understand them.
“—and I know you could not control yourself Sabin,” she continued to cry into my ear, “it was that, that creature.  I understand Sabin, I do.”  She sniffled and pulled away from me, “Is something the matter?  I would have thought you would be eager to see me?  Why…do you not return my embrace?”
”I…” my voice seemed to become stuck in my throat, that feeling of fear rising once more in my chest, “I am sorry…I am just tired I suppose…”
”Right, of course. Tavis is here with me, we can go back to Phinneas’ and you can rest and eat and—“
”No!” I yelled.
She looked surprised, “What?  Why not?”
“I…I am not ready to go back just yet.  I want to…to talk with you Samantha.”
”Talk?”
”Yes, send Tavis back,” I did not like him anyway.
“Sabin…here? In an alley? Uhm…I would much rather take you back…and…what is that god-awful smell?”  She leaned forward to look around me.
I quickly moved forward and put my hand over her eyes, “Do not look that way.”  This was the closest I had voluntarily gotten to her.  “I-the anju, he…” another first for me, I felt ashamed for my actions, I did not want to admit to her what I had done, “do not look that way please.”
“Okay…but Sabin we should get back.”
”I would rather talk here, only for a few minutes.”
She sighed and glanced at the ground beside me, then sat down.  “What would you like to talk about?”
I looked at her, she was smiling, I looked away.  “I uhm, I am not sure.  I just wanted to talk to you.  I am…I am sorry for what I did to you.”  It was true, the more I looked at her face, the more remorse I felt.
She shook her head, “I already told you I understand.  It was not you, but what’s a part of you.”
”Samantha?”
”Yes?”
”Have you…” It was a stupid question.  Of course she had experienced it before. It was pointless to even ask.  And she would figure out I was not him.
”Yes Sabin?”
It was becoming increasingly annoying to hear her call me Sabin.  
”Sabin?”
“I…when you feel…remorse for, the things you have done, what do you do?”
”Oh.  Well, I suppose it depends on what I am feeling guilty about.”
”It depends?  Why?”
”Well if it is something that is completely out of my control then I have to remind myself there was nothing I could do.”
”Like your parents’ death,” it came out much more blunt than I had intended.
“…yes.”
“I am sorry.”
”No, no, you’re right.”
”What of, what of circumstances that you had a choice?  At the time, it seemed reasonable, it seemed okay, but as time passes, and you feel remorse, what should you do?”
”You can’t go back in time Sabin.  If you truly feel remorse for what you’ve done in the past, perhaps the only thing to do is look toward the future.”
”The future?”
”Yes.  Work to better yourself.  To change from the person that committed those acts, to a better person.”
I had spent all of my time planning and wanting them to suffer, I never considered the possibility of coexisting with him.  But why should I be the one to become human?  More like him?  Why could he not become more like me?  A quick glance at Samantha’s face answered that question.  Even so, this was going to be much more difficult than I had thought.  
“Please Sabin, let’s go.”
Everything was so much simpler before.  I lived and I fed.  What was the purpose of these emotions?
“Sabin?”
”Creante!” I yelled at her, “My name is Creante!”
She stared back at me, her mouth open slightly.  “Cre..ante?”
”Yes.  Did you not think demons had names?  Are humans only allowed to have names?  To think and question?”
She slowly inched away from me.
I looked at the ground, “Do not bother.  I have no desire to hurt you.”
”Really?” she nearly chuckled wryly, “What changed your mind?”
”…remorse,” I answered flatly.
“Remorse?”
”Yes!”
”How long…have you been…in control?”
”I never left.”
”I thought your speech sounded too proper.”
”Is that not how humans are supposed to talk?  I have seen it in texts.”
She laughed now, “Why have you a sudden interest in being like a human?”
”I do not!  It…it is being forced upon me.  I do not want to have these feelings, to think these things, but you were right.  As time passes, I am becoming more human.”
She bit her lower lip and looked at the space she had made between us.
”I am not trying to deceive you into coming closer to me so that I can hurt you.  If I wanted to, if I could, I would have done it already.  Besides, I take more pleasure in prolonging the…experience.  I used…to take pleasure in it.”
She glanced towards the other end of the alley.  I saw Tavis look in but she motioned for him to go back.
“You trust me now?”
”Not at all,” she replied, looking back towards me, “however,” she moved closer, filling the space between us, “I will never trust you if I don’t give you the chance to earn it.”
Finally, I felt a bit of happiness.  Of pleasure, knowing that she was close to me.  Was that normal?
“Tell me, Creante, of these feelings.”
”I feel…” I looked up at her, but when I looked into her eyes I felt something new.  Something different.
“Yes?”
I returned my gaze to the ground, “I feel guilt.  I feel pain.  Not of a physical kind.  But inside.  Perhaps it is physical.  I do not know.”
She turned and cautiously placed her hand on my chest, “Here?”
I stared at her hand; even through my attire, and her glove, I could feel her warmth.  Another tingle of sorts.  “Yes…”
”Pains of the heart.”
”My heart?” I looked to her.
“Yes.  When…people feel guilt or even sometimes pain, it is often felt here.”
”Why?”
She chuckled, “I don’t know.  They just are.”  She moved to sit back again, removing her hand.  Without thinking I grabbed it; she looked startled.
“Please Samantha.  I…I want to understand these emotions.  What are they?  Why do I have them?  What is their purpose?”
”If you want to do that you’ve got to stop trying to kill us every chance you get,” she replied, with a lightness to her tone.
“I will.  I mean, I will not.  I mean, I will not…harm you again.  You have my word.”
“And you have to give Sabin time to be in control.  To live his life.”
”And he has to give me mine!” I replied moving closer.  “It is no longer his life, but ours.  I do not want to be pushed to the side to merely watch.”
“I am sure Sabin will give you your time.  We can…work together.  We can try and help you understand what you want.”
”Why?” I whispered, “Why do you want to help me?”
She smiled, “Because you asked so nicely.  And, as I said, I am sure Sabin would agree.”
I looked down at her hand.  I had almost forgotten I was holding it.  Her hand was small in comparison to mine.
“I can hear him.  In the back of my mind. In the back of our mind. His protests.  And when he is in control he can hear me.”
”What…is he saying now?”
”I do not know.  I am not listening.”  Though there was nothing to listen to.  He was quiet.  Possibly listening to me.  I pulled off her glove.
”Why did you do that?”
”I was curious.  Is that another human emotion?  Does curiosity count as an emotion or merely a result of the ability to question that around you as you reach an echelon of higher thinking?”
”Uh,” Samantha stammered.
“I suppose not, even children have a natural curiosity.”
“Those kind of questions you’d probably have to ask Sabin.  Or Phinneas.  I think you three would have some amusing conversations.”
I studied her hand, the light markings on her wrist just visible underneath the sleeve of her dress.  “Do you think of me as a separate…person?”
“Well, Creante, the more we talk, the more I am beginning to.  Yes.”
I smirked slightly.  Sabin knew what I was thinking.  I could hear his voice once more, protesting.  “Pride is an interesting emotion.”
”Oh?”
I looked up at her, “Yes.  As is loyalty.”
I could tell she did not understand what I meant.  Remember, I told the voice in the back of my mind, you promised me my time.  I tightened my grip on her hand, and placed my other on the small of her back, bringing her closer.  Her lips had an interesting taste, nothing like the fear which I had grown so accustomed to.  And the feeling of her body against mine, that too was…interesting.  Her breath was warm and…in a way soft.  As a pulled away from her, slightly, I could still feel her quick breathing on my lips.  “You promised,” I whispered, “farewell for now Samantha.”  I closed my eyes and, fell back.  Comfortably, willingly, I relinquished control to Sabin.  And as I did, as I could feel him return once more, I spoke to him.  “I gave my word Sabin.  Keep yours.”

When I opened my eyes again I was once again in the dark corners of his mind.  And saddened to be there.  I could see through his eyes, the joy on her face to have him back once more.  I half wondered if she would ever be that happy to see me?  I gently touched my mouth with a clawed finger.  As I remembered the feel of her breath, I felt something.  The same thing I felt when our lips touched.  It was the same feeling Sabin felt when he was with her.  The same feeling I once pushed away.  I now felt a sort of excitement.  I looked through his eyes; they were leaving the alley now.  He leaned on her for support.  Tavis greeted her eagerly, and Sabin cautiously.  They climbed into a carriage.  Tavis took reign of the horses, and Sabin laid his head on Samantha’s shoulder.  Holding her hand tightly.  The feeling hit me again and I sighed.  Was this…love?




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All done!  I hope you enjoyed it ^-^.
Well just for a few notes.
I decided to write my piece from the Anju's point of view because, well, everything was from Sabin's point of view.  And people seem to forget that the anju, Creante, is his own person.  With a personality, opinions, the like, not just some demonic creature.  Sabin probably came off as being more whiney or intolerable than necessary but that's 'cuz it's from Creante's p.o.v. and no one is completely objective, if at all.  I hope it provided for an interesting story telling.

Also , the title.  I should hope is pretty self explainitory (sp?).  Creante experiences a rebirth of sorts.  He even compared himself to a child once, or twice if I remember correctly.  (And I wrote the darn thing, I'm so horrible lmao).  He's being introduced to new feelings, new experiences, a different way to look at the world, and people, and a new way of thinking almost.

There are probably many more comparitives, metaphors and analogies you could find in there.  I won't point 'em all out =P.

Hope you enjoyed it!