Hello! Glad to have you along for the read!

This is a side story I'm working on to help develop my writing skills and to give my mind a little break every once in a while from the emotional weight that comes with working on my main fic. I've had the idea floating around in my head for a couple of years now, so I'm excited to get started!

If you're familiar with any of my other works, you'll know that I am a slow writer, so you can expect updates to be infrequent.

I do not own Ao no Exorcist.

Please read, review, and enjoy! : )

A cheap umbrella bobbing up and down above her head with every step, Mineko splashed through the vacant streets, thankful that few people ventured out at such an ungodly hour. The early commute spared her from pitying glances. Not that she would have been the only person wearing a soaked outfit, had someone joined her under the weeping sky, but silent condolences did little for wet clothes, and the majority of the work force had no reason to leave the house at five-thirty in the morning.

Squinting past the unyielding rain, she could make out the train stop ahead, the lamppost beside it glowing red to signal an arrival. "Oh, thank goodness," she gasped, panting from her run as she came to a stop behind the yellow safety line.

Seventeen seconds later the train rumbled to a stop in front of her, the hiss of the opening doors drowned out by the pounding water. Closing her umbrella, she hopped in, scanned her pass, and took a seat on the edge of a worn cushion, setting the umbrella on the floor beside her. The dark grey pants she wore clung to her knees and thighs, the fabric around her calves and ankles only saved by the waterproof boots fitted snuggly over them. The worn red sleeves covering her arms were also damp, and with any luck would be dry by the time she needed to step out in the rain again.

A garbled announcement was broadcast over the speakers, and the doors simultaneously slid shut.

Removing her backpack, Mineko scooted further onto her seat and relaxed her muscles until the back of her head pressed against the cool surface of the window. It was a fifteen minute train ride from the station, followed by a twenty minute trip by taxi to the front gate. Not enough time for a proper nap, but enough time to close her eyes.

"Well, this is a sight." Mineko opened her eyes and leaned forward, peering around the headrest in front of her. Through raindrops and windshield wiper swipes, she saw a line of vehicles parked on the road leading up to the gate. "I didn't know Mr. Sakata hosted get-togethers, or parties…whatever all this is."

"He doesn't host events at his estate," she stated matter-of-factly. "Parking isn't allowed along this stretch either." Unfastening her seatbelt, she grabbed her umbrella and slid her arms through her backpack straps. "I'm going to get out here."

"I can drive closer—"

"No. It's okay. Thank you." She reached into her pocket for payment and looked out the front window again. "Sorry, Umeda-san. I think you're going to have to turn around and go back the way you came. They're practically in the middle of the road." The money was dropped into his palm. "You can keep the change. Thank you." She offered a small smile without looking at the driver, who thanked her in turn and wished her well.

Steeling herself with a breath, she opened the cab door and stretched her arms, opening the umbrella to shelter her as she exited the dry interior of the car. From her back pocket she withdrew her phone, and a few seconds later the surrounding area was bathed in torchlight, diamond drops glinting around her.

Taking a step back, she shut the door and retreated as the taxi pulled away, a small wave splashing over her toes. A curious frown wrinkling her brow, she made her way towards the front gate.

There were twelve cars in total, stationed at various distances from one another in no obvious pattern but clearly intended to prevent any vehicles from passing. She glanced into a few of the cars on her way; all were empty, and there was nothing to indicate whom they belonged to. Skirting around a black SUV blocking the gravel path, she darted past the twin stone pillars bearing the Sakata family crest, catching the flicker of lanterns ahead.

The trees on either side of the path leaned in, leaving her room to travel only forwards or backwords. As beautiful as they were to behold in spring or under a summer sun, their spindly branches hooked like talons in the early dark, brown leaves rattling in the wind and rain.

The farther she made her way onto the property, the more enthusiasm she lost in her stride. Her eyes flickered between groups and individuals in dark suits spread out on the lawn and near the manor's front doors, their silhouettes blurring in the downpour like watercolour paint. With her torch lighting her way, she imagined almost every pair of eyes was upon her.

She slowed her pace further, not only to avoid slipping in the puddles forming on the well-tread path, but to buy her a little more time to assess the situation. Those uniformed men and women she would inevitably cross on her way to the front doors watched her approach; the others dismissed her and returned to their conversations or watch. Their indifference swept away some of the tension from her body, but did not dissuade her from glancing in their direction with the same wariness that she regarded those monitoring her. When she was close enough to distinguish the animal motifs on the lanterns hanging over the porch, she stored her phone in her pocket.

A man with a black umbrella was approaching. He looked like any of the others—straight-laced, authoritative, a little imposing, physically—with his only discerning feature being his shaved head.

"Good morning," Mineko spoke before he reached her.

"Good morning," he returned, the words quiet and quick, shuffled aside for a more important discussion. She stopped in front of him, knowing he had set himself in place to block her way. "This area is not open to visitors at this time, Miss."

"I w-work here," she interrupted him before he could tell her to leave. He didn't look like the type to make requests. "I'm employed by the Sakata family. They are expecting me." Without looking away from her the man raised his arm, signalling a co-worker who detached herself from a small group standing under the protection of the porch.

A woman a few years older than her descended the steps, popping open an umbrella. Her pale skin and light hair proved a startling contrast to her dark suit, and when her umbrella bloomed over her shoulder, she appeared as an angel haloed in black. She did not speak as she came up beside her associate, angling her umbrella so that the rainwater would not run onto his shoulder.

"What is your position?"

Mineko looked away from the woman. "I clean. Every week. The bedrooms, b-bathrooms, halls…s-s-sometimes the kitchen." After a small pause, she asked, "What's going on?"

"May I see some identification?"

Her shoulders stiffened but she reached into her pocket. "Are you with the police?" Her fingers brushed the edge of her train pass.

"We're security, Miss."

But not the police. She pulled out her card and reluctantly handed it over.

Without so much as a cursory glance, the man passed it to the woman, who nodded at him and abruptly turned around and headed for the front doors without a word, wet shoes squeaking up the steps and across the wooden porch. With a sinking feeling, Mineko realized that any mess made inside the house would be her responsibility to clean.

"How long have you worked here?"

"A little over two years." She was growing increasingly uncomfortable giving away information about herself while learning nothing in return. "I need to speak with Maria-san," she said, peering around the man to watch the blonde woman shut the door behind her.

Please remove your shoes, she silently begged.

"She lives here. She's the uh, the, the caretaker."

The rain came down harder. Her pants would be a sopping mess if they ever allowed her inside.

Why can't we have this conversation under the porch? The man nodded but said nothing, and she shifted from one leg to the other. These people weren't here last week, and Maria-san said nothing about receiving guests. Did she not know? And Sakata-san never needed this much security before. She reached into her back pocket and pulled out her cell phone again, the wrinkles of her frown deepening from the light on the screen. She didn't call or text me… When she lifted her head to check for the blonde woman, she noticed the man looking at her screen, and she shoved the phone back into her pocket.

"No one told me about this," she said as if it wasn't already obvious, looking at everyone but the man in front of her. How long had the woman been gone? She did her best to cross her arms and block out the growing chill. No one else seemed to mind the unfavourable weather; if they did, they had the self-discipline to remain professional in their discomfort.

After what felt like an unnecessarily long wait, one of the front doors swung in. Across the threshold the young woman beckoned, uttering not a word. Mineko glanced at the man to see if he would stop her, but he let her pass and did not follow, and so she trudged up the steps, bringing the mud and rain with her over the porch and into the front hall.

"Maria-san." The name came out as a sigh of relief at the sight of the greying woman standing on the step. A cough that could just as easily have been a sigh drew her attention to the pale-faced woman, who was holding out her train pass at arm's length. Unsure if she should thank her, she took the piece of plastic with the faintest of nods.

Delicately, as if any noise above a whisper would bring the wrath of heaven and hell upon her, the blonde slinked back outside, staring at the two women as she slowly closed the door.

"What is going on, Maria-san? Who are they?" She was sure to keep her voice low, in case one of the black suits happened to be standing around the corner.

"We will speak… Put your umbrella in the bin, you're making more work for yourself." The older woman waved at the umbrella at her side, which Mineko hastily discarded, and then took a step back to make room for her to sit and remove her boots.

"So many people," Mineko mumbled as she counted the rows of shoes beside her.

"I insisted they leave the entry way uncluttered. This house was not built for so many guests, and we do not have room for everyone's belongings."

Setting her green boots aside from the more expensive, ill-suited for outdoors shoes, she turned to find a pair of slippers dangling at face-level. "No socks?" Maria usually allowed her to move about and do her work wearing only her socks, save for the summer, when it was too hot, and she roamed the halls barefoot.

"No socks." She peeled them off and stuffed them in her boots.

"Leave your phone with your bag; they've asked that we refrain from using them indoors."

Mineko paused in adjusting her slipper and looked at the woman over her shoulder, more than a dozen questions running through her head. "Should I…not be here? I can go home…"

"Nonsense! You are here to work, and there is work to be done. I can't complete all the chores on my own—not with so many people fussing about—and I wouldn't trust any of them to treat this estate with the respect it deserves." Maria scowled good-naturedly at the grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Wait until you're my age and your in-laws come to visit on a whim. You'll understand."

Comfortable in her slippers, Mineko stood and followed her supervisor from the entryway, aged floorboards creaking under their weight. Despite the number of shoes in the hall, they passed no one on the way to the kitchen. It was warm, and quiet, and if she were to sit herself in a chair in the tea room, she was certain that she would be asleep within fifteen minutes.

"I was expecting a commotion," she admitted quietly, not wanting to break the calm but hoping her words would prompt Maria to speak. And she did speak, briefly, too low for her to catch a word, so that she gave up on conversing until they reached the kitchen.

Maria pushed aside the sliding door for them to pass through, light distorting across the adjacent wall in golden spots as it filtered through the stained glass.

Shuffling by Maria, Mineko went to the far end of the cooking space and opened the narrow closet, setting her backpack in the corner under a couple of hanging smocks and aprons. She reached for her phone but hesitated.

In case of emergency. She left it in her back pocket.

"Turn it off if you're going to keep it with you," Maria called from the opposite side of the kitchen, giving her a disapproving look.

"It's that bad? Having my cell phone with me?" She watched the screen go black and returned it to her pocket.

"For security," the woman said as she opened an upper cabinet and pulled out a small stack of folded cloths. She set the faded fabric on the counter and gave the pile a small pat. "Amongst our guests are a few high-ranking officials. The Sakata family is less renowned than it used to be, but their ties—both financial and social—run deep. Sakata-san would like to see that they continue to do so."

Mineko began rolling up her sleeves. "I suppose if it were for his friends… But it's awfully sudden. And he hasn't done this sort of thing before, that I can remember. At least, not since I started here."

"That's not something we can control," Maria sighed, and for a moment, the fire left her. It was unsettling, similar to the look she had seen on her grandmother's face after she woke up in the hospital. The realization that things were not—and would never again be—the way that they had been.

"Maria-san…?" She stopped fiddling with her sleeve.

The moment passed.

"You let me know if these folks give you any trouble. You're doing your job, same as them, and as an employee of their host, you should be treated with the same courtesy and respect as you treat them." She paused. "Do I need to worry about how you'll treat them?"

Mineko bit her bottom lip in a show of nervousness and the other woman glowered. The tension was broken when a short laugh escaped her lips, and Maria smiled. "I didn't think so."

"We'll work together today so that they recognize you in the future. I don't know how many personnel come and go or when their shifts begin and end, but I've seen many of the same faces this morning that I saw yesterday."

Mineko sounded her agreement as she wiped the glass on the inside of the kitchen doors. "They arrived yesterday? All of them?"

"I suppose so. Too much going on for me to keep track of every person," Maria complained from the other side of the doors.

"Do…?" She bent over to place her cloth in the bucket, wrinkling her nose at the smell of vinegar that rose from the liquid inside. "Do you need me to come in to help an extra day? I can be here five days a week, or six…"

"What about your volunteer work? I don't think they would appreciate me stealing you away. And Sakata-san pays you, not me. You would need his approval."

"I'll still have time to volunteer." A silence fell between them as Mineko picked up a dry towel to wipe her hands on before passing it to the caretaker.

The three days a week she had off she spent volunteering at an animal rehabilitation center, performing work similar to that which she did at the Sakata estate. It didn't get her any closer to a career in a museum, or any further on the path to becoming a historian, but she liked the routine, and she liked that it kept her busy. At present, she was content to immerse herself in the history she found in the books amidst the shadows and leather of the small library at the opposite end of the house.

"How long will they stay?"

"Hm?" Maria picked up four dry rags on the ground at her feet.

"Do you know how long the guests will be staying here?" If they were gone by the end of the week, there would be no need to offer more of her time to helping out at the estate.

The older woman's face took on a few more wrinkles. "As long as they like."

Mineko matched her expression as she picked up the bucket of vinegar water. It was not the answer she expected—or wanted—to hear. It was surprising enough that a group of elites was allowed—offered?—room in the manor; but to cater to them indefinitely? The entire arrangement seemed strange, and the more she thought about it, the more she began to wonder if something was wrong.

"Come along, girl, we have the rest of the house to scrub." The shorter woman was already on her way down the hall, slippers pattering on wood at a busy pace.

Mineko shut the double doors and hurried after her, rolling her feet to keep the bucket's contents from splashing about at her side. She was too old to be called "girl," but she recognized the woman's attempt to draw her attention away from the subject matter. Deciding to play along, she called after her, loud enough for her ears alone. "If you can call me "girl," may I call you "grandma?""

Maria's head whipped around, cheeks flushed from the warmth of the house and the exertion. "Who taught you to give sass to an adult? And to your mentor, of all people?" She turned around, shaking her head. "Shameful," she scolded in a tone that suggested she appreciated the comment.

They passed the washroom, dining room, tea room, and a room that, as far as Mineko could tell, existed only to display the family's private art collection, before reaching the heart of the house. There, beside the staircase that led to the second floor, Maria came to an abrupt halt, clicking her tongue in annoyance.

"We're going to need another bucket of vinegar water if we clean windows together. That master bedroom is big and I don't think either one of us wants to walk back and forth, just to soak our rags. Go grab another bucket; there should be a smaller one outside the kitchen, under the porch. It might be on one of the benches…"

Nodding, Mineko carefully placed the bucket of wet rags beside the wall and returned to the kitchen.

"Bucket, bucket," she mumbled to herself as she unlocked the sliding door beside the small storage closet, grunting with the effort it took to wrestle the door aside. Since Sakata did not entertain guests aside from family, the back porch was rarely used. The furniture was cleaned semi-regularly and the light fixtures replaced as needed, but much of the wood appeared rather dark and discoloured in daylight, and she could never quite bring herself to rest on the benches when weeding the yard in summertime. For all she knew, the seats were rotting.

She got the door opened halfway before it squeaked and moved no more. It would have to do.

A curtain of rain fell over the roof of the porch, flooding the plant pots hanging from the closest pillar.

"Bucket… Bucket..." She crouched to look under the benches and tables, humming when she caught side of the medium-sized green bucket flipped on its lip. Wrapping her hand around the plastic grip, she dragged it out from beneath the table where it had fallen.

"Oh!" She gasped as she began to lift the pail, finding something hiding underneath it. Caught off guard, she released the handle and took a step back towards the door, thinking she had uncovered a rat.

The bucket clattered and rolled away until it tapped the leg of a bench. As she watched, a small, round, black body wobbled out gracefully, followed by a second, even smaller one that hovered just above the floorboards before being buffered upwards by the gentlest of breezes.

"You little black soots. You startled me!" Leaf-green eyes stared blankly at her as she shooed the larger one away with an open palm. It slowly drifted up, joining its tiny companion in a meandering dance.

Feeling a smile forming on her face, she ducked her head, keeping it to herself as she snatched the pail and checked that there were no stragglers.

When she stood, secretive grin no longer in place, she swept the yard with a discreet glance, and, seeing no one, walked back inside.

Despite the presence of the house guests, the morning routine remained the same. They cleaned, scrubbed, wiped, washed, and dusted, finishing every task in half the time it normally took as a result of their combined efforts. However, by noon, they had yet to service the guest suites on the ground floor: two spacious sets of rooms in the corner of the manor, separated from the bustle of downstairs activity by a longer stretch of hallway. It was there, Mineko assumed, that their guests were hiding away.

"I'm going to check on them. See if anyone needs anything," said Maria, drying off her eating utensils before storing them away in a drawer by the sink.

"Let me know if you need help," Mineko offered from her spot at the table in the corner. "I'll be in the library after I finish this," she raised the bag of apple slices sitting in front of her.

"We'll see." The older woman left the kitchen, softly closing the door and leaving Mineko alone with her thoughts.

The rain had yet to let up, its steady rush filling the house with white noise as it tapped on windows and drummed against the roof and walls. Chewing on her apple and wearing a distant expression, she let the sound carry her into a daydream. She couldn't be sure how long it carried on, only realizing her mind had slipped away when someone hit the doors to the kitchen.

Blinking and startled by the interruption, she stayed in her chair a few seconds. Whoever it was did not knock again. Mildly curious, if not a little on guard, she decided to investigate, standing and moving stealthily across the room with the aid of her padded shoes. She was almost to the door when it opened from the other side.

"Get some water." Maria's purple sleeves were rolled up to her elbows, one hand wrapped in a small blue glove, the other holding on to the doorknob.

"H-how much?" she stuttered when she saw that the woman was going to tell her to hurry up.

"A pitcher. And a glass. You cleaned that small bucket we were using earlier?" A frantic nod. "Bring that too."

"To the guests…?" Maria brushed past her, moving towards a set of cupboards. Mineko scurried across the kitchen to the back door, throwing her full weight against it as though her life depended on it. The green pail was right where she left it, and with a wide swing of her arm, she snatched it up from the table. This time, there were no black soots beneath it.

She took the empty drinking glass from Maria once she had filled the bucket, then followed her out of the kitchen. It was an uncomfortable journey down the hall, in which she tried not to bump the bucket with her legs while maintaining a brisk pace. Her feet felt sweaty in her slippers, and she was certain that she was leaving fingerprints on the polished glass cradled against her chest.

When she rounded the corner to the guest hall, her eyes left the tight, silver and brown bun atop Maria's head and flew to the unfamiliar faces on either side of her. With a small skip that she hoped was less noticeable than she imagined, she moved herself closer to the caretaker, dropping her gaze after making brief, unwanted eye contact with almost every person she passed. Most of them were men, young and middle-aged, wearing the same black suits as the security members surrounding the manor, except for a couple who looked like businessmen and a handful—including one woman—fashioned in boots and blue uniform tops resembling military dress.

No one pulled her away from Maria or questioned her presence, but by the time she found herself shoulder-to-shoulder with her supervisor in front of the first guest suite's door, she was determined to leave the area as soon as possible.

The right door opened upon the third knock, as though someone had been anxiously awaiting their arrival. "Come in," invited the man standing on the other side, speaking softly. He reminded Mineko of a butler. Or, rather, what she envisioned a butler to be. His tone was polite, and his posture reserved, but the instant his eyes landed on her, she could see the questions in his eyes.

Maria passed him the pitcher of water, diverting his attention for a moment as she turned towards her to speak in an equally quiet voice. "There's a basket of sheets just inside, to your left. Please wash them." She took the bucket and glass from her and stepped into the room, the unnamed butler giving her space to pass him without fully opening the door.

"Excuse me." Mineko made an effort to tilt her head down, admiring the tile floor as she tiptoed into the room, keeping her back pressed to the adjacent door. Only one window was uncovered by curtains, allowing in a bleak grey light that washed over the room to capture it like Polaroid photograph. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Maria approaching the bedside.

She stubbed her toe on the basket of linens. Bending over, she hastily picked up the basket and pressed it against her stomach, squeezing out of the room. Without a backwards glance, she marched towards the bend in the hall, looking straight ahead and keeping impassive under the silent scrutiny and the sensory assault to her nostrils. It wasn't until she was in the wash room that she wrinkled her nose, furrowed her brow, and bit the inside of her cheek.

What is this? She grabbed two handfuls of the sheet on top of the pile, separating it and holding it up to the light to look for stains on the white fabric.

Nothing.

She threw it in the washing machine and reached for the second sheet, her hand sinking into the wrinkled material and feeling something damp. She flinched and drew back, then reached for another spot. Confirming her new hold was dry, she lifted the mattress cover high, exposing the brown and yellow stains around the middle.

Bleach it. The soiled cover joined its cleaner partner.

She found dried blood on one pillowcase, and fresh stains on the second.

Throwing the rest in the wash, she rinsed and scrubbed her hands in the sink as the cleaning cycle started up.

Without bothering to dry her hands, she crossed over to the window and threw it open, trying to rid her nostrils of the stench. The smell of the deluge gradually filled the small washroom, carrying with it a blessed chill that cooled her skin and seeped into her lungs like a breath of fresh air.

It was almost enough to calm the heart beating wildly in her chest.