'Angels' is really a most appropriate name, you know. An Angel is a classic symbol of purity, after all, and we angels are destined to remain forever chaste, in body if not in soul...

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My name is Hikaru, and I like to dance. I'll bet you didn't know that, did you? But it's understandable; you humans know nothing about us.

Do I sound bitter? Because, I'm sorry, but I am. I don't expect you to even try to comprehend just how bitter I really am.

Though it's pretty hard to be mad at a girl like Misaki; I'll give her that. She's a ditz sometimes, but she's a really sweet girl at heart, who hates to see not just me but any angel in pain, and I'm sure that if she knew what I wanted, she'd give it to me in a heartbeat... But she'll never know; no human will ever know, for all the decades I might be destined to exist. Perhaps it's only so-called 'woman's intuition' that assures me that at least he knows. For what good it does, of course.

But I really need to stay on the subject. I'm not used to trying to make sense to other people, you know. Anyway, I like to dance. It's not just because I like music, either, or the rhythmic movements. I don't think I'd even care one way or another, if it weren't for my most common dance partner...

And this, this one horrible thing that's just too much on top of everything else, is why I nevertheless do manage to be mad at Misaki. God, how I hate it - when their eyes meet, and a blush colors her cheeks; when Wizard's master touches her hand and I feel the thrill go up her spine. And there's no way for me to express my rage, none at all.

Because, you know, no matter how great our wills, our bodies are theirs alone. I can't even cry, because somewhere in her subconscious she thinks Hikaru is not crying. She doesn't just think about what I am supposed to be doing, in other words - she also thinks about what I'm not supposed to be doing. The only things any of us can control are the things our masters have no opinion on - where our eyes might stray, for instance. Every once in a while I can mimic their actions and meet his eyes (though I am not allowed to blush coyly - but I don't think I'd be the type to anyway), or even brush his hand for an instant. And sometimes, very rarely - just once or twice really - he's smiled.

Do you pity me, after just that little taste? Do you feel a flicker of regret now? Or is this not enough to touch your human heart? Then consider...

The roar of the crowd and the flashing lights, and suddenly I am aware of myself again. She shouts the words just to be heard, but to me it is as if they are a soft familiar prayer, whispered in my ear while I am still between sleeping and waking - the first thing I hear, time and again... And then my body folds itself into a fighting stance, and I face my opponent.

The worst days are when I find myself fighting him. He's the only angel I've met without immediately fighting, so maybe that's how it came to this. Those days fill me to overflowing with blackness and spill their dark tendrils into the rest of my half-life...

I land a blow to his face, and my gut wrenches - a feeling that only intensifies a second later, when he kicks me in the stomach. He flashes me a brilliant, sweet smile - blinding for just a moment - just before I'm forced to knock him out of the layer... And the crowd cheers...

I'm sorry to burden you like this. It's probably not something you wanted to hear from someone who's not even supposed to be. But my name is Hikaru, and I like to dance.