Zatch Bell Fan Fiction ❯ Sweet honey from the rock ❯ Sweet honey from the rock ( Chapter 1 )

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

Sweet honey from the rock

A Konjiki No Gash Bell (Zatch Bell) fan fic by Wega the blue sun

No copyright infringement intended, these characters don't belong to me. This fic does belong to me.

A/N: in case anyone's wondering, my S/B fics aren't written within a certain timeline. Each story is a stand alone. I publish stories as I write them, so that's why Sherry's alive in this fic! ;)

Sweet honey from the rock

For once I'm at home and I'm enjoying the beautiful weather while I sit outside beneath an old tree. Perched on my lap is an old picture album. Here's a picture of me in a ballerina outfit, and there's one of me at a piano recital. Those images bring up bad memories and I quickly turn the page.

Here's a photograph taken when I was 3 years old. I'm kneeling in a muddy patch that was supposed to be my flower garden. There's a huge grin on my dirty face while a beautiful woman gently embraces me and points towards the camera.

That woman is my mother, the formidable Mrs. Bellmont. When she was in one of her rare gentle moods she'd let me call her Maman, but at all other times she insisted I call her Madame. Yes, in this picture she's definitely Maman, a happy woman playing with her only child.

A nursery rhyme drifts through my mind. "Sherry, Sherry, quite contrary, tell me how your garden grows..." Maman would insert my name into the rhyme and I would often beg her to sing my special song in her beautiful, clear voice.

Maman was very talented. Her accomplishments included song and dance, she'd also mastered several instruments and spoke many languages. Any academic challenge set before her would be swiftly conquered. Her social skills were beyond reproach, and her beauty was legendary. In a family of overachievers she was the shining star in the firmament, success was hers no matter what she attempted. And then she had me and her world came crashing down.

My stubborn refusal to develop into a prodigy drove Maman insane. How could such an utterly average child be borne of her perfection? Madame would often tell me that I was her flawed reflection - where she was talented, I was just proficient. She was beautiful, I was merely pretty. My continued failures only drove the thorn deeper into her flesh. She knew I'd never measure up, no matter how hard she drove me to excel. And she rarely missed an opportunity to loudly voice her disappointment, preferably in other people's company. A proper drama always requires an audience.

Her moods would change in the blink of an eye, her personalities would switch off and on like a light bulb. When I was young I thought her erratic behavior was caused by me, but now that I am an adult, I wonder if Maman wasn't mentally ill.

Mother in all her moods is gone now, but her memory haunts me to this very day. Things aren't as bad as they were, once, when I was very young I tried to kill myself when the pain became too much. That's when Coco entered my life and saved me from myself.

Brago once told me that Coco wasn't worthy of my consideration, and there are some that would agree with him. His pronouncements are often cruel, and just as often true, but in Coco's case he's wrong. He doesn't know her like I do, and he doesn't understand her.

My dear friend Coco is one of those born under an ill-fated star. Although she is by nature kind and cheerful, she also has something of the perpetual victim about her. In the past people have picked up on this trait and those inclined to bullying made her life hard. But brave Coco never lost her ability to laugh, no matter how beaten down she was. Unfortunately she never lost her penchant for stealing either, and there were times when I had to rescue her from the wrath of her latest victim.

Coco gave her love to me freely, and I gave her material goods in return. Money meant nothing to me, as a millionaire's daughter I could shower her with gifts. I was so proud when she was accepted to a good school. My exploitation of family connections and full payment of tuition was intended to make her happy. How was I to know that this generous gift would only expose Coco's vulnerability with such disastrous consequences?

Coco didn't fit in the sophisticated environment and in her misery she became easy prey to Zophise's manipulations. I refuse to believe what Brago says, that Zophise only exploited the evil that already existed in Coco's heart. The gentle, loving friend who saw the intrinsic value of the most average girl in the world could never be so wicked.

And the facts bear me out. After Zophise's defeat Coco returned to her old, lovable ways. She's happy again, and I've made sure that she will remain that way. She saved my life and I've saved hers. The debt is paid.

A leaf drifts down from the tree. My partner is beginning to fidget. He doesn't need to rest often, and he detests inactivity. I try to catch a glimpse of him in the shady canopy. Brago can be as inconspicuous as a puff of smoke, but right now a flash of red from his eyes gives away his position.

"Are you ready?", he asks and lands right beside me. He casts a curious glance at the open album in my lap. "Pictures", I say, not bothering to finish the sentence. Brago isn't interested in the past, his focus is on the future. He shrugs and walks off, expecting me to follow.

What a strange, dark thing I spend my time with, I think idly, not yet moving away from the cool shade. Although we are together most of the time we remain separate in many regards. Brago isn't one for idle talk, and I am not very curious. I've never asked him much about himself and his world, and he's never volunteered much information. This is the way we deal with each other.

And yet I somehow feel that I have a special insight into this mamodos mind. Maybe he feels the same way about me, I wonder. Oddly enough, even though we are as different as two creatures can be we still resemble each other in so many ways.

Of all the people in my life that have influenced me Brago's contribution is considerable. Madame taught me that I have a capacity to endure brutal training. Brago was quick to exploit this ability without knowing - or caring - about it's origin.

Coco taught me that my life is valuable, and that I am worthy of love. Without her gift I would be long gone.

Right now Brago is standing at the edge of the forest, impatiently waiting for me to catch up so we can begin the training session. Instead of rushing to his side I skip and pirouette through the grass, taking my sweet time and annoying him to no end. Nothing arouses his ire like irreverence, as if the very hint were an insult to him.

Brago's fate and future are utterly dependant on me, and we both know it. This gives me a certain advantage, and I've made sure that we remain on equal footing when Brago would prefer to be in charge. But I do not abuse my position of power. I will honor my promise to him, no matter what. I will repay for what he's given me.

Finally I grow tired of teasing and join my partner in the clearing. What will his training plan include this time, I wonder? Brago is as ferocious in training as he is in fighting. But here is where his greatest gift to me shines brightly.

He's taught me to be confident in myself and harness my fear, to dig deep for the ability to excel and overcome hardship. He's unearthed golden treasure from barren ground, got sweet honey from the rock.

Through him I discovered qualities I didn't know I had - strength within weakness, purpose within confusion. And I am grateful to him, although he may not know it, for these are gifts fit for a millionaire's daughter.


I wonder if mother would finally be proud if she saw me now, living up to my full potential. And all it took was to get in touch with the demon beside me.