Disclaimer: I do not own Blue Exorcist.

Clemency
by. Poisoned Scarlett

Rin knows that he is far from charming. Rin knows that his laugh can rub people wrong and his words can cause bruises to bloom from where blows are exchanged. Rin knows that, despite rehearsing his lines the night before, morning come his mouth is a dry graveyard of mistakes and missed opportunities. Rin knows that his hair is shaggy compared to his brothers slicked back, knows that he is not roguish and cool like Bon, not intelligent like Konekomaru, and most definitely not smooth like Shima.

Rin is his own awkward piece-together, as if God had gathered up all of the leftover parts of man and crafted him in what was left of his image. But, then again, Rin is not God's lamb but Satan's offspring. He has no halo to show of, no blessings to give, and he cannot speak of salvation because the whispers say he is damnation in human flesh, and every word of grace that his Father taught him since he was a child tastes like blasphemy coming from his lips. But he repeats the prayers, ignores the whispers, because he truly believes that if he repeats them enough times, the Lord will finally look over at him and forgive the side of him that thirsts to see his blood.

He does good, more than his brother at the very least. He cannot count on his fingers how many times their Father had shouted himself hoarse at him for taking money from the donation baskets in order to give to the poor on the streets. But his Father often forgave him for that, ruffled his hair and grinned his infamous, unruly, grin, telling him not to go stealing from the baskets lest he get a good yelling by one of the other priests who aren't so understanding.

Rin helps without asking for favors in return.

He takes blows for those who can't, he bleeds for those that have bled enough, and then he bleeds some more because humans are mean and ugly and do not take kindly to being helped by monsters made into flesh. His Father had often told him not to hand out his kindness so blindly, but Rin scarcely listens. He knows he shouldn't, but at the same time he knows he has to. Here's the bitter truth: he would drain his body dry, have each of his limbs cut off one by one, before he ever willingly harmed another human like they do to him.

One of the missionaries who had visited his Father's home had once told him that his heart will harden with each wound he takes just as skin scars. He told him that one day he will not do good, one day he will not care. He told him that one day he will become what is in his nature and he told him that on that day, he hopes it is not him who goes to hunt him down.

Rin doesn't believe it, not a word of it.

He can't because of Shiemi—because how can someone so absolutely saintly, the very meaning of innocence and grace, touch him so tenderly and smile at him so softly? Him, a demon inside a well-tailored person-suit?

If someone as holy as her can see the good in him, surely God can as well?