"Why are we taking her again?" Ban asked, glaring at Jericho, who was his side. She scoffed, hoisting you up further on her back.

"You're an asshole. A conniving, bitch, fuckass, dumb, idiotic, suck my dick asshole," she responded coldly.

"R-"

"Shut up, Ban! God, I don't know how you even met someone like (y/n). I thought she was a weak dumbass who didn't care, but she is literally one of the best people ever!" She growled, kicking open the door to the hotel. "How could you do something like a that to someone like her?!"

"I-"

"I mean, I knew you were an asshole, but Jesus! Whenever I ask Guila about the Sins, all she ever talks about his how understanding and kind (y/n) is!" She continued, not letting him get a word in. "She was drunk off her ass, and she still only talked about how she wanted to make you happy! Does that not mean anything? Are you that sick?!"

"Y-"

"Don't tell me I don't know what I'm talking about, cause I do," she looked bitterly at the floor, climbing the stairs to get to their room. "I know what it's like to be ignored and trashed by the person you have a hopeless crush on. You don't deserve someone like her."

"J-"

"Didn't I tell you to shut up?" She asked pointedly, opening the door to their grimy room and hoisting you onto the bed. You smiled to yourself, nuzzling into the sheets. Turning around to face Ban, with her hands on her hips, she hissed, "Not only that, but you didn't have the common decency to give one of your comrades and someone who loves you to death a place to sleep?! How dare you?!

"How dare you be such an arrogant asshole?! How dare you treat someone so lowly?! How dare you call yourself a human being after all you've done to her?!" Jericho seethed, "You are such a... a-a fucking lunatic! A bitch, an assshole, the biggest fuckwad I've ever met, an idiot, a sleazebag who doesn't appreciate what he's given! The embodiment of your Sin!"

"You have no idea what you're talking about," Ban said dangerously, his piercing eyes stabbing through his Holy Knight companion. Jericho glared right back. "So shut your fucking mouth."

With that he turned around, heading out of the room and kicking the door so hard the entire building shook.

"God!" Huffed Jericho, glaring at the door, which creaked closed, not really fitting in its frame. She plopped down on the bed, right in front of your knees.

Looking down at you, her expression softened. She glanced at your whip, then at your hands, then up to your face.

"Yknow, I thought you were stupid and weak when I first met you," She snorted, chuckling to herself as she looked at the floor. "Me and Guila were beating you so easily at the fighting festival... I didn't think you were actually one of the Sins." Her smile turned into a frown. "Then I kept hearing things from people. Kids said they had been told stories. Holy Knights we're talking fondly of you... hell, even the Roars of Dawn said you were strong! And then Guila talked about you after the battle with Hendrickson and..."

She sighed, shrinking lower and looking at the ground. "Geez, all I've ever heard was how powerful and what and amazing person you are, and I feel like I was such a bitch to you. I had demon blood in me, and that should be a valid excuse, but it doesn't feel like it. Does that make sense?"

Jericho shifted her gaze to your passed out form, smiling. "Probably not, huh?"

All of the sudden, small flames started appearing around the room. They surrounded you and Jericho, lighting up the room beautifully in the evening lighting. Her eyes widened as she looked around at each small flame that appeared, mouth slightly ajar. She looked down at you, then back up at the small lights.

"Fire suits you," was all she could say.

It truly did. Passionate and exuberant. You were an acquired taste for sure, but you were one of the best friends anyone could make. Dangerous, most certainly. You could bring nearly anyone to their knees at half your strength. Being a demon helped, of course, but you were quiet intimidating when you wished to be. Emotional and powerful. No two words could sum you up better. Beautiful and the light of some people's lives. Of course you were- ask any of the Sins about you, and almost everyone would say you were one of their best friends. My, fire suited you so perfectly.

Bam!

The door slammed open with equal force that it was closed with, the flames disappearing instantly as it was opened. Ban rushed in, holding a shrouded figure in his arms. Jericho looked at the man, scowling at first, before quickly realizing he was holding someone.

"Move," He growled, and Jericho complied immediately, scooting you to the side, so you rest peacefully, sitting upward against the wall next to the bed. Ban lay the man down, pulling down the hood and revealing a wolf-like face. Jericho shrieked as Ban pulled the blanket over him.

"What in the hell?"

"I drank the fountain of youth," Ban finished, finally taking a breath explaining to Zhivago what had happened in their time apart. Jericho wiped away her tears and snot, hearing the tear-jerking story that the author was too lazy to write out. "I can't die or grow old~"

"Unbelievable..! To think that the tales were true..." Zhivago breathed out, looking over at you, resting happily and soundlessly. "She must be the guardian saint, yes? She's just as beautiful as the stories say- and the power radiating off of her is unbelievable!"

"No," Ban replied sternly, "That's... (y/n)... another member of the Sins. The guardian saint died. I want to bring her back to life."

A heavy silence weighed on the room. Jericho shifted her gaze to the floor, and Zhivago, easily reading the reactions of both people, smiled. "My, today is just full of surprises. Concerning bringing back the dead.... I have heard some rumors."

"And they are..?" Ban probed, looking pointedly at his father-figure.

"I've heard from many that a man's deceased wife was seen walking into his house. Somebody happened to check it out, and the man had been strangled to death. A group of Holy Knights who were supposedly dead were also seen entering the woods outside of town, like they were heading somewhere." He looked off to the side, troubled. "These are only rumors, though- I wouldn't put much trust in the word of people here."

Ban was silent for a moment, and Jericho lay backward on the floor, closing her eyes and listening with her hands folded behind her head. Her ears trained closely on Ban, not missing any sound queues.

"Hm," Ban finally sighed, "doesn't seem like what I'm looking for. I'm sorry- I know I'm asking for the impossible."

"No, no... I'm happy," Zhivago chuckled.

"About what?" The Fox Sin snorted back, bitterness subtly lacing his words, an almost unnoticeable undertone.

"You've found something you care about- more than yourself. The saint..." his gaze flickered from you to Jericho, "such devout comrades... it's given you more to live for. Something precious. You've never opened up to anybody other than me- I'm glad to see that's changing

"Not really," Ban laughed, suddenly back to his normal self. "Hey, Jorocho."

"What?" Jericho huffed, opening one eye. Ban likened next to her.

"Cockroach."

She squealed loudly, jumping up, then scowling as she realized he had been playing her. She huffed, glaring at him. "Ban, you ass!"

He cackled, "You know, crossdresser, you might be the first."

"First what?" She demanded, about to make a smart remark.

"The first human I don't hate being around."

The remark disappeared from her mind as her face turned fifty shades of crimson. "Th-the first... so you... like me?"

"I'll kill you."

Ban huffed, as he sunk further into the mattress. Jericho no longer payed attention, focusing on trying to diminish her bright skin.

Zhivago watched, smiling, but he saw through the mask, looking into Ban's eyes. His smile faltered upon seeing the seriousness in his son's expression. "There's something else, isn't there?"

"Whadoya mean, 'something else'?" Ban chuckled, smiling forcefully, trying to play it off.

"Don't pull that shit with me, I'm your father. I know what something's wrong. Tell me now, or you may never get it of your chest."

Ban went silent, realizing the weight of those words. He stared down into his lap, his eyes flickering over to you for a fraction of a second. His father took notice of it, of course.

"Since... the saint died..." Ban began, "I've met another lover... and a really good friend."

"Hm," Zhivago hummed, struggling to sit up next to his son. He looked over at you and smiled, sending silent thanks your way.

"But I'm a worthless piece of fucking shit!" Ban burst out suddenly. Jericho was startled by the sudden outburst. "I tried to kill him! I was willing to trade the best man I've ever met for someone's whose long dead! Not mention I lost her in the process!"

"Did you, though?" Zhivago asked, Ban giving him a puzzled look. "Did you kill him? Did you truly lose her? Because from what I can tell... that doesn't seem to be the case."

"They're both stupidly good people- they'd forgive me in a second. I don't deserve them..." Ban's voice lowered, then rose up in anger once again. "God! I tried to kill him, and all he did was smile and laugh! He forgave me without me even having to ask for it! And she... with all the shit I've put her through, she's still by my side. You don't just find people like that... and all I do is throw it away!"

"Ban..." Jericho mumbled, hands folded together and hugged to her chest.

"I see," his father sighed. "You're disgusted without yourself because you feel like you've relied on them, then treated them harshly without repercussions."

Ban stayed silent.

"My, what great people who have in your life!" Zhivago beamed, "Son, all the self-loathing in the world cannot help you unless you convey how you feel to them. Don't keep it bottled up inside- you'll explode, and you might really lose someone. Talk to them; ask for forgiveness."

His hand fell from his son's shoulder, falling lightly onto the bedsheets. His eyes closed gently, a smile still on his lips. "Haha, and it seems those will be my last words from your father...

"I love you, son..."

With that him eyes closed all the way, his breath hitching before halting altogether. His head dropped down, his muscles all lax and without any tension. Ban's head fell too, his hands lightly shaking in his lap as he stared down. Tears spilled from Jericho's eyes, she felt as though she had known this man all her life, despite it being only a few hours. A single tear fell from Ban's eye.

"Zhivago..."

💙💙💙