Author's note: Don't own ToA; poem (the bolded parts) is all mine.

Luke's smile was a painted thing as he waved off the others' concerns after another 'meeting' (chewing out) with Asch. The redhead wondered, just for a moment, if he'd ever actually be able to show what he was really feeling, behind the smile he always wore these days.

His worries had once again been completely ignored by his original, and he'd once again been reduced to nothing more than a verbal punching bag. He just couldn't spend the evening with the rest of the group after having his emotions run through the grinder that was Asch. His companions would just chastise him for letting Asch chastise him, or worse yet, agree with all the venom the blood-haired teen had spewed in the first place. Luke wasn't up for either.

I've worn this mask so many years I can barely take it off.

I finally tell you my hopes and fears and all you do is scoff.

"...Master?"

Luke started, jarred from his reverie of looking out over the city from his current perch on this hill, looking down at the light aqua Cheagle, "Yeah?"

Mieu climbed up Luke's pants with effort, little limbs cycling in the air for a perilous moment, before Luke sighed and plucked him up, depositing the little creature on his knees. Mieu turned around to see what he was seeing, then sat on his knees, looking back at Luke, "Asch was really mean this time..."

Luke couldn't even bring himself to be annoyed at the high-pitched voice, because his original had been particularly vicious this time around. "Yeah..."

I wonder what made you like this, your heart as hard as stone.

The darkness in your soul seems to match that of my own.

"Master?"

"What?"

"Why is Asch so mean to you?"

Luke frowned, "What do you mean? He's always like that."

"But... you're so good at making friends. But you... you do those things you know Asch won't like. Don't you want to be friends with him?"

The auburn haired youth couldn't stop his sad smile, "Found me out, did you?"

"So you were doing it on purpose?"

"You caught me, but you can't tell anyone else, okay?"

"Yes, Master!" The little Cheagle saluted him, then paused, "But... why do you do that?"

Luke's smile became wistful, and pained, "Because... Because I know Asch."

What was done to you to make you act this way?

I remember the jeers and jokes and pranks on me they'd play.

"...I don't understand."

Luke finally looked down at the sacred creature, looking at him instead of through him, and in a move that had Mieu squeaking in astonished surprise, hugged him to his chest, turning his gaze back out to the quiet night, out where he knew his original was seething alone. "It would be good for Asch to have friends, and I want that; more than almost anything. But there's something he needs more than that."

"More?"

"Asch... needs to hate. It's what helps him get up, what keeps him going: his reason to live. And I don't think he can really hate Master Van any more than I can. That's why he won't take his name back. So I'll be Luke Fon Fabre for him: because it's better that Asch hate me... than hate himself."

I guess we're not so different, you and I and me and you.

Our masks so much the same, what they say then must be true.

Miles away, a redheaded swordsman stalked through the late evening furiously, mind focused solely on his idiotic counterpart as he mentally ranted about all the complacent fool's faults. Arrogant, pig-headed, stubborn, prideful, weak-willed, dimwitted, moronic reject. And the Dreck took it all and then some with a smile on his face! Asch's chest felt heavy and constricted for just a moment before he shook it off. Stupid replica...

To everything a finish, even circles have their end.

They curve and swerve back to beginning, then circle 'round again.

Mieu's ears lowered as he watched Luke staring out into the night, the emerald eyes sad and content and hurting all at once, and snuggled down into the warm arms around him. Master...