After showing Raziel to the room down the hall, Leon busied himself with getting a fire going. The hideout had power, but the warmth of a fire had always made the place feel more like home to him. As he stacked the wood in the small fire pit, he heard footsteps behind him. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Raziel walking back into the main room—still wearing her heavily damaged bikini top and short shorts.
Leon turned back toward her, his exasperation mounting. "So you've always worn rags, huh?"
Raziel shot him a glare. "They're not rags. I'm fine."
Leon raised an eyebrow, incredulous. "You really think you're fine?"
"I've handled myself so far," Raziel said, crossing her arms defiantly.
Leon let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head. "Handled yourself? You couldn't even stop yourself from almost getting flattened in the ruins earlier. And let's not forget your flames—you can't control them, and they burn you more than anything else."
Raziel's jaw clenched, but she didn't say anything.
"And fighting?" Leon added, leaning forward slightly. "I haven't seen anything that says you know how to fight. You can't just rely on those powers of yours, especially when they're as unstable as they are."
Raziel scowled. "I can still fight."
"Can you?" Leon challenged, crossing his arms. "Because from what I've seen, you've got power, but no idea how to use it. You're more of a danger to yourself than anyone else. You can't control your flames, and you can't fight without them. That's not handling yourself, that's just surviving by luck."
Raziel's lips tightened, her frustration simmering, but Leon could see that his words were hitting home. She wasn't about to admit it, but deep down, she knew he was right.
"You think you've got this under control," Leon continued, his tone softening, "but you don't. And that's fine—you're not supposed to have it all figured out. But you need to be honest with yourself about what you can and can't do, or you're gonna end up in a worse spot than you already are."
Raziel shot him another glare, her pride refusing to let her fully back down. "So what? You think you can teach me how to fight now too?"
Leon shrugged, giving her a small grin. "Maybe. But first, we start with the basics. You need better clothes. You need control. You need to know how to survive without setting everything on fire."
Raziel crossed her arms tighter, her glare still fixed on him. "You think you've got all the answers, huh?"
"Nope," Leon said, smirking. "But I know more than you do right now. And if you want to make it out here, you're gonna have to listen."
Raziel grumbled under her breath but didn't argue further. She knew she couldn't fight—not really, not without her powers. And her powers? They were a mess. She just hated that Leon had to point it out.
Leon rummaged through his stash, pulling out a bundle of underclothes and tossing them to Raziel. "Here. Start with these."
Raziel caught the bundle and frowned, holding up the oversized shirt. "This stuff's way too big."
"It'll cover those rags," Leon said, still focused on the fire. "And that's what matters for now."
Raziel scowled, tossing the shirt over her shoulder. "I don't see the point. Why bother?"
Leon sighed, finally looking over at her. "Because you need to look somewhat presentable. Plus, when was the last time you took a bath?"
Raziel's eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means," Leon replied, raising an eyebrow, "you've been through hell, fighting scavengers, almost getting crushed, and burning yourself. You need to clean up. That's probably why your regeneration hasn't kicked in."
Raziel froze, her expression darkening. "What do you mean 'hasn't kicked in?'"
Leon shrugged, tossing another piece of wood into the fire. "I noticed your skin's not healing as fast as it was before. Maybe your regeneration's a one-time thing, or maybe it's because you're filthy and your body's too worn out to fix itself."
Raziel's temper flared, the flames that danced along her skin flickering in response. "You think I need a bath to regenerate?"
"I'm just saying," Leon said, standing up and stretching. "You might want to test that theory before you burn yourself to death."
Raziel growled under her breath, snatching the shirt and underwear from the pile. "You're so annoying."
Leon smirked. "Yeah, but I'm right. So, go take a bath. You'll feel better."
Raziel turned, muttering curses under her breath, clearly furious. She stormed toward the nearest exit, then paused, glancing back at Leon. "Where's the bath?"
Leon suppressed a laugh. "Down the hall, second door on the left."
Raziel cursed him out under her breath, stomping away in the direction he indicated. Leon shook his head, amused by her reaction but also relieved she hadn't set the place on fire again.
"Don't forget to scrub behind your ears," Leon called after her, chuckling to himself as she shot him a deadly glare.
Raziel stormed down the hall, muttering curses under her breath as she clutched the oversized shirt and underwear. The nerve of that scavenger—telling her she needed to bathe like she was some helpless child. And regeneration? As if a bath would magically fix everything. The thought only made her angrier.
She found the bath just where Leon had said it would be, though she wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of being right. The room was surprisingly well-kept for a scavenger's hideout—a small, but functional bath with clean water, something she hadn't expected in the middle of a cave.
She stripped off her tattered rags, looking at the burns and mechanical parts beneath her skin, the charred flesh that hadn't regenerated since her powers had flared up earlier. Her skin was still tender and raw in places, and it bothered her more than she wanted to admit.
Raziel sank into the bath, hissing through clenched teeth as the water stung her burned skin. She leaned her head back, trying to focus on something—anything—other than the pain that shot through her body. The water should've been soothing, but instead, it felt like her skin was being peeled away, layer by layer.
Suddenly, she noticed it—a faint flicker of her dark flames, dancing along the edges of her mechanical parts. The flames, which she'd thought were dormant, were still there, burning beneath the surface of the water, flickering in and out like tiny embers.
Raziel's eyes widened in confusion. "What the...?" she muttered to herself, staring down at her arms. How were her flames still active in water? That wasn't how fire worked. But then again, nothing about her flames made sense—not the way they behaved, not the way they hurt her, and definitely not the way they healed her.
Her skin started to knit itself back together, slowly but painfully, the dark flames licking at the raw, damaged flesh. The regeneration was working, but it hurt—more than she'd expected. The burning sensation intensified as the flames flared up, crawling over her body like a living entity, rebuilding what had been lost. It was agonizing, and she bit back a scream, her fingers gripping the edge of the bath.
"How... are they even... working in water?" she gasped, her mind racing. The dark flames had always been destructive, wild and uncontrollable. She'd never thought they could do something like this—regenerate her skin while submerged. Yet here they were, burning and healing her simultaneously.
The pain was almost unbearable, but Raziel forced herself to endure it. She'd been through worse. And even though she didn't understand what was happening, she wasn't about to let her body fall apart on her.
When the flames finally began to die down, leaving her skin whole once again, Raziel was left panting, her body trembling from the effort. The burns had healed, but the process had left her drained—physically and mentally.
She stared at her now-healed skin, still confused. "What the hell... is going on with me?"
Raziel stood, stepping out of the bath and drying off, her thoughts spinning. Her flames were regenerating her—something she hadn't expected. But why now? Why in water? The questions buzzed in her head, but there were no answers, just the lingering pain of the regeneration.
She dressed in the oversized clothes Leon had given her, still trying to wrap her mind around what had just happened. As she walked back to the fire, the exhaustion weighed heavily on her, but the burning curiosity about her powers gnawed at the back of her mind.
Leon looked up as she approached, his smirk returning. "Feeling better?"
Raziel shot him a deadly glare. "Shut up."
Leon chuckled, his eyes drifting to her now fully healed arm. "Your skin looks better. Guess I was right about the bath."
Raziel clenched her fists, her dark flames flickering faintly in response to her irritation. "Don't get used to it. This doesn't mean anything."
Leon raised an eyebrow. "Really? Because it looks like your little fire trick is working just fine."
Raziel gritted her teeth, glaring at him. "I don't even know what my flames are doing," she muttered, more to herself than to him. "They're... different."
Leon frowned, his smirk fading slightly. "Different how?"
Raziel crossed her arms, the oversized sleeves hanging loosely off her frame. "They shouldn't work in water. They shouldn't be regenerating me like this."
Leon's curiosity was piqued, but he kept his tone casual. "Sounds like something worth figuring out. Could be useful... if you don't set yourself on fire again."
Raziel huffed, sitting by the fire, her body still aching from the regeneration. "Shut up, scavenger."
Leon grinned, but he didn't push further. He could see she was still rattled, though she'd never admit it. He'd have to tread carefully with her—at least until she understood her own powers.
Raziel sat by the fire, her arms crossed, still glaring at Leon from the corner of her eye. She couldn't believe she had to take orders from this scavenger, let alone admit that the bath actually helped. Her skin still tingled from the regeneration, and the ache in her muscles hadn't quite faded.
Leon, for his part, seemed content to sit by the fire, poking at the embers with a piece of metal scrap. His relaxed demeanor only irritated Raziel further. How could he be so calm after everything? It wasn't like he had dark flames crawling under his skin.
"You know," Leon said, breaking the silence, "you should probably thank me for that bath idea."
Raziel scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Thank you? For what? Telling me to jump into water and hurt myself?"
Leon shot her a sideways glance, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Hurt yourself? Look at you—you're practically good as new."
"Good as new?" Raziel snapped, her voice rising. "Do you have any idea what it's like to regenerate with flames? It's not exactly a pleasant experience."
Leon leaned back, arms behind his head as he looked at her with feigned innocence. "Hey, all I'm saying is, you're not falling apart anymore. That's gotta count for something."
Raziel clenched her fists, feeling the familiar flicker of her dark flames under her skin. "You're so annoying."
"Annoying but right," Leon quipped, flashing her a grin.
"Right about what?" Raziel's voice dripped with sarcasm. "That I need to take more baths?"
Leon chuckled, but his tone shifted slightly, becoming more serious. "No, that you can't just keep pushing yourself like this. You're strong, sure, but you've gotta know your limits."
Raziel's glare intensified. "Limits? I don't have limits."
Leon raised an eyebrow. "Really? Because I seem to remember you almost burning yourself to a crisp back there."
Raziel opened her mouth to snap back, but stopped herself. He wasn't wrong, and that pissed her off even more. She turned away from him, staring into the fire, her thoughts swirling.
Leon leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "Look, I get it. You don't wanna rely on anyone, least of all me. But I'm just saying, it's not a crime to accept help once in a while."
Raziel huffed, crossing her arms tighter. "I don't need help. I've been fine on my own."
Leon tilted his head, giving her a long look. "Have you, though? You've been running on fumes since I found you."
She didn't answer, but the silence between them was telling. Leon didn't push her, though. He knew better than to try and get her to admit anything when she was this wound up.
Instead, he changed the subject, his voice lighter again. "So, what's the deal with your clothes?" He gestured at the oversized shirt she was now wearing, still clearly too big for her but better than her usual rags. "Gotta say, you're not exactly blending in with the scavenger crowd."
Raziel shot him a sideways look. "What's wrong with my clothes?"
Leon pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly trying to stay patient. "Look, it's not practical, and it sure as hell isn't gonna keep you safe."
Raziel scoffed, crossing her arms tighter. "I don't need safety. I've been fine so far."
Leon sighed, but a small smirk tugged at his lips. "Yeah, well, when I first saw you, I thought you were a night worker."
Raziel blinked, clearly confused. "A what?"
Leon shook his head, letting out a tired sigh. "You know, a... never mind. Doesn't matter."
Raziel's expression darkened. "No, what the hell is a night worker?"
Leon met her glare, his patience wearing thin. "It's not important. Point is, you don't exactly look like a splicer priestess." He gestured at her clothing with a wave of his hand. "Priestesses are supposed to be pure, or at least that's what I thought."
Raziel's confusion deepened, and irritation flared in her voice. "Pure? What does that even mean?"
Leon groaned and shook his head. "Forget it. The point is, how you dress is the first thing people see. And trust me, you don't want to pull the wrong kind of attention, especially looking like that."
Raziel's temper flared. "And what exactly is wrong with how I dress?"
Leon shrugged, his voice deadpan. "Well, unless you want to keep getting mistaken for... well, not a priestess, I'd suggest something a little more practical. Something that covers more than just the essentials."
Raziel's flames flickered faintly under her skin, her irritation boiling over. "You're impossible."
Leon grinned, unfazed. "And yet, I'm still right."
Raziel's lips tightened, but she didn't argue. She hated that he had a point—again.
Leon noticed her silence and grinned. "Look, all I'm saying is, we'll get you something that doesn't scream 'easy target.' You've got the power, but you need to look the part too."
Raziel shot him a glare, but the fire in her eyes wasn't as sharp as before. "Fine. But I'm not wearing anything stupid."
Leon laughed softly, shaking his head. "Wouldn't dream of it. But seriously, you need to stop looking like someone who's about to get dragged into the nearest bar."
Raziel shot him a glare, her flames flaring up again for a brief second. "I swear, if you keep talking like that, I'll—"
"You'll what?" Leon interrupted, his tone teasing. "Burn me alive? You've already tried that, remember?"
Raziel grumbled under her breath, but she didn't argue further. She knew Leon wasn't going to let up, and deep down, as much as she hated to admit it, she understood his point. But she wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of agreeing with him outright.
Raziel's irritation was still palpable, but Leon didn't let it bother him. Instead, he poked at the fire, letting the silence stretch between them for a moment. The flickering flames reflected off his face, casting shadows across the cave walls.
After a few beats, Leon spoke again, this time in a calmer tone. "Look, I get that you're used to... whatever that was with your old House, but out here? It's different. People judge you by what they see first. If they see weakness, they'll exploit it."
Raziel raised an eyebrow. "And you think I look weak?"
Leon shrugged, glancing at her. "Not weak, no. Just... like you don't know what you're doing. And considering you're dressed like that in the middle of nowhere, I'd say I'm not the only one thinking it."
Raziel bristled, the flames flickering beneath her skin again. "I didn't choose this life. These are the only clothes I have."
Leon frowned, his curiosity piqued. "What do you mean, you didn't choose?"
Raziel clenched her fists, clearly reluctant to talk about it. "It's none of your business."
Leon leaned back, folding his arms. "Fine. But it's gonna be my business if you keep walking around like a walking target. I don't need people coming after us just because they think you're easy prey."
Raziel glared at him. "I'm not easy prey."
Leon raised an eyebrow, his tone challenging. "Then prove it."
Raziel stared at him, her frustration simmering just beneath the surface. She wasn't used to being challenged like this—no one had ever spoken to her so bluntly before. In her old House, people either feared her or avoided her. But Leon? He didn't seem scared at all. Annoyed, maybe, but not scared.
Leon watched her for a moment, then sighed. "Look, I'm not trying to piss you off. But if we're gonna stick together, you need to learn a few things. First, how to blend in. Second, how to fight. You can't just rely on those flames of yours every time you get cornered."