-1AN: I went back and reread the series and it made me want to write a fanfic. The manga leaves so many unanswered questions so I'd thought I'd take a shot at it. This may or may not be a one shot, I just feel like writing. Enjoy this is my second fic on this site (though the other one isn't done yet shame) If you like and review I may add on to my little ficlet. Re-uploaded after I noticed some grammatical errors. I should really find someone to edit for me.

I don't own Princess Ai if I did I would own all her clothes.


The soft wind curled around him ruffling silver hair; he closed his amber eyes with long lashes the color of safety pins and let the sun soak into his body. It was a glorious rare moment of sunlight and he was going to take in every bit of it before he had to go underground again. These precious moments he cherished almost more than anything else, well almost, there was one thing he cherished more or more like someone…

"Ai" he let the name ease off his perfect lips. Ai, the one woman that'd found a way into his carefully guarded heart and the one woman who shouldn't be there. Not only was he about to rise up in the most horrendous act of treason possible, starting a revolution which could very well mean the end of Ai-Land as they knew it, but he could be the cause of her father's demise if it came to all out war, which was very likely. For Ai's father was the king and Ai was princess. The human princess.

The lavender winged angel sat up slowly a frown creasing his perfect white brow in frustration. He'd had that argument with himself numerous times and none of them had done any good in changing his mind. He sat letting the wind caress him, gently tossing his feathers in the breeze. Closing his eyes he could almost imagine her fingers stroking his wings like she would do when they were alone. Her soft hands passing over them sending soothing sensations all through his back, she had never flinched away, never feared him. Never afraid of who he was, what he was. That was what he loved most about her, her willingness to accept others around her. It was hard to imagine she was the child of the man who hated his kind more than anything, but then most of Ai's origin and upbringing was shrouded in mystery.

Placing his hands to his side he was about to push himself to his feet when something sharp pierced his hand. Instinctively he yanked the hand away quickly but this did only more damage as the thorn bush further scratched his delicate hand. He examined his skin as red oozed from the welts that the thorns had left; the one puncture wound at the tip of his index finger had a tiny crimson bead growing at its tip.

Blood, his blood, angel's blood and the powerful and potent Tenketsu held within it.

That was the true reason behind the enslavement and revolution, the Tenketsu that flowed through his very veins. Enslaved for his very blood, he knew, he knew all to well the suffering that came with it. Bringing his fingers to his lips he sucked the blood away. It was harsh and metallic tasting and stained his lips a rich vibrant red. So much power in something so precious. All for power, that's all it ever is, power. The same thing that gave the humans absolute power could kill them instantly. Oh the irony, power and poison all in one. Absolute power corrupts absolutely they say. What the hell do 'they' know? Have 'they' been tortured? Have 'they' been drained of their blood until they can't stay awake anymore to keep screaming from the pain and then finally welcome the blessed relief of darkness and unconsciousness?

The bleeding had slowed and he licked at the shallow cuts. He then reached down and pulled his white sleeve up to reveal a tiny star like white scar on his inner elbow. Tracing the light scar with one of his slender white fingers he wondered how much longer this would have to go on. He knew the suffering better than most on the outside, unlike his cousin Kaz, he'd been one of them; one of the ones trapped in the dark. Nightmares still plagued his nights, nightmares of chains and needles and the screaming, the horrid screaming that never really left his ears. He gave an involuntary shutter and repressed the memory.

His wings fluttered at the splinter of fear that shot its way up his spine. He shook his head and pushed the fear back down his throat. Looking down to his hand he pulled it back to watch the blood bloom anew from the prick. It fell in tiny drops to the ground like small red petals from some unknown flower. Blood that spoke for the suffering of a world and the suffering of one heart. A heart filled with a forbidden love and a world filled with the agony of repression and persecution.

Both pleading…

Both begging…

Both screaming…

for mercy.

AN: That's a wrap for now sorry I got a little angst…ok so maybe more than a little, but hey it comes when it comes and this just came to me. I don't know if I'll add more or not up to the reviewers.