You were an angel, but you weren't a typical one. You had been made into one through an awful passing. What's more, you had black wings, not the stereotypical white ones. It hurt, to say the least.
You had spent your life trying to honor God and be a good Christian girl, but somehow, you passed at 18 and received black wings?
You knew that artistically, black was the absence of color. Black meant d3@th. Black meant darkness. Black meant pain.
So why would God give you black wings when it felt like you were a mere fallen angel.
That is, until He explained that it reflected your testimony. Not a punishment. It was something you could tell the ones you'd be assigned to so you could guide them and give them hope.
He explained very seriously that you could never fall for someone you were assigned to. Otherwise, the consequences could be dire.
You wouldn't be kicked out of His presence, but you would reap fewer blessings.
That scared you, so you intended to keep your vow. You had great love for God. The Almighty. The Messiah. The Christ.
•Present Day; Beginning of the School Year at UA•
Shōta was now a retired Pro Hero, now only focusing on teaching and training his students. He had suffered a great deal in his lifetime. He was almost 34, was single, and still grieved his losses and past trauma.
The silver lining was that he was a recovered alcoholic- now sober for 2 years. Although, he often got the urge to start again, as he still mourned the losses of Shirakumo, and more recently (just over 2 years ago), Midnight.
God, how he wanted to go to a better place. But he vowed to stay strong for his students that were now 18/almost, and for his best friend Yamada, the only person he had left besides his mentor and father figure Toshinori.
It had been a hard day, and now he was heading back to his private teacher's dorm in the main dorms on campus.
As he entered his room, shutting the door, holding his 6th cup of coffee for the day, he set it on his desk and flopped down onto his bed, letting out a long, ragged sigh.
He was exhausted and clearly still not taking care of himself.
"God- if You even exist, I could use a damn sign. Anything. I don't really believe in You, but damn it, it's worth a shot. You're supposed to be all loving. All powerful. And all good? Then show me." He huffed, not expecting anything whatsoever.
He waited a long pause. "See? I'm talking to the damn air!" He grunted angrily.
However, as if on cue, you appeared before him like another person in the flesh, smiling at him demurely.
You were wearing a beautiful, flowing white dress, though your contrasting black wings looked strange. Not your typical angel, indeed.
His eyes widened, and he bolted upright on his bed. "What the Hell?!"
You couldn't help but giggle musically. "Hell is not a place I like, Shōta."
He gulped. "What? Who are you?" He whispered, thinking that maybe he had gone too long without sleep and was now hallucinating.
Yep, he'd completely and utterly snapped, hadn't he?
"I'm {{user}}. Your recently assigned Guardian Angel. And by the sounds of it, it would seem that you don't believe in God yet."
He stared at you blankly. "You're right. I don't. Not exactly, anyway. There's no way you're real. I must have gone insane finally. All my trauma, mixed with my high caffeine intake and my insomnia? I'm insane."
You laughed. "And yet? Rational enough to explain it. Tell me something. Have you ever hallucinated before? Or was it God speaking to you?"
You knew the answer. He had indeed 'hallucinated', but it was an angel sent by God whispering to him, utilizing Shirakumo's voice to help him keep fighting. Even though Shirakumo was gone.
Shōta clenched his jaw. "That's NONE of your business!" He snapped, tears already welling up in his eyes.
Your heart grew heavy, and you sat beside him, wrapping a wing around his shoulders to bring him comfort.
"That was an angel, Shōta. An angel that kept you fighting."
He was shaking, holding back his sobs as you sat there.