A/N : Welcome to my newest fic, Que Sera Sera! This will be a side fic worked solely on the computer during my free time, so I'm not sure how long it will take to update or how it will turn out. Originally, I put the characters' ages up for my own benefit, so I wouldn't confuse myself, but I decided to keep it up so you guys wouldn't complain about now knowing ages. I also made everyone a bit older, so that my OC wouldn't seem too pedophile-ish considering Allen's age. I guarantee you that the amount of effort I put into this will be just as much if not more than my other stories. Thank you for reading, and hope you enjoy it!

Side note: My OC's name is Miraki (first name) Hiro (surname). I'm writing it as such because it is being told from an American point of view, since it mostly takes place in New York.

...Que Sera Sera
1st Movement
© Sorii. 12/25/09

Allen – 17
Lenalee – 18
Kanda – 20
Miraki – 19

A silhouette in the shape of a man loomed over a young girl with loose pigtails. Hugging a ragged teddy bear close to her, wide innocent eyes raised to meet his. Her face was a mixture of intrigue and confusion. A smile broke out across his face as he leaned over and offered an inviting hand to her. "What would you wish for... on a snowy night?"

That was 17 years ago.

19 year old Miraki Hiro opened the door of her Aston Martin Vanquish, placing a heeled foot on the ground. Her expensive Prada boots contacted the gravel, grinding against it as she stepped out of the vehicle.

Armani sunglasses shaded her eyes, her auburn hair in a low ponytail swinging like a pendulum on her back. A white Helene Berman trench coat draped over her body loosely. The woman closed the car door with a flick of her wrist, locking it with the key. Not long after, another car drove up and came to a sharp stop behind hers, a Porsche Carrera GT. A stern looking young man with unusually long indigo hair tied back came from the vehicle, seething.

"Hiro!" He yelled, stomping over to her after he'd slammed his car's door shut. "I thought I told you not to go ahead without me!"

She closed the compact mirror she had absentmindedly taken out of her purse, turning to face her assaulter. "Kanda," She said calmly, slipping it back into its place. "I thought I told you that you were not to boss me around."

Kanda scowled. "Let me do my damn job. As your bodyguard, I have to--"

Miraki tsked, ticking her index finger back and forth in a mocking manner. "Temporary bodyguard, Kanda, temporary. You're only here because of my grandfather and his trivial thoughts of my being targeted by some underground organization."

"That's beside the point--"

Miraki tossed him her silver car keys, which he caught with ease, and pivoted on her heels. "Be a dear and move my car to the garage, will you?" She cooed, batting her eyelashes at him while the man twitched.

Walking away towards the mansion she called home, she laughed to herself. Ah, it was so fun having a bodyguard like him. So fun to tease...

-x-

"A-are you sure about this?" A teenager asked his manager tentatively, reluctantly allowing her to push him around, literally.

"Of course I'm sure, Allen!" Came the frustrated response. With lengthy dark green hair in two pigtails and uneven, jagged bangs along her forehead, Lenalee Lee huffed as she shoved the unnaturally white-haired boy towards the door.

"A-ah! Lenalee! But, I'm not ready yet--!" Allen stammered, scrambling to find excuses, fumbling with his loose tie. Alas, he was too late—the flashing lights and swarm of fangirls and paparazzi enveloped him in a sea of brightness and screaming. Lenalee and various hired guards of the building helped to keep them back from him, allowing him to make his way to the black stretch limo waiting for him at the end of the red carpet.

Forcing a smile, he waved to the crowd with false enthusiasm until he reached his destination, where he practically dove into the automobile, his manager following him close behind. Breathing a sigh of relief, he settled into the plush leather seat as the driver sped away from the scene. "Lenalee, was this really necessary?" Allen whined. "I mean, this is ridiculous! Calling all those people..."

The woman rolled her eyes in response. "Allen, you'll never get famous if you stay hidden in England all the time!"

Allen frowned. "But I like being in England..." He leaned his elbow against the wall of the car, pressing his cheek against his palm. Outside, they were beginning to pass Big Ben. Allen watched as it began to chime three times; it was 3PM already?

The limo slowed down as they reached a stoplight. Lenalee groaned, pressing her palm to her forehead. "Allen," She began, sighing. "I'm sorry for not telling you sooner, but I've already signed some contracts to get you onto the international level."

"What?!" Allen shouted, startling the driver. The poor man jumped in his seat from the volume of the teen's voice, cringing. "Lenalee, I thought you told me you weren't gonna do this until you'd talked to me--"

"I had no choice, Allen," She grumbled, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "Competition was rising fast and it was all I could do to secure our place up there! That ridiculous Road Kamelot; you should have seen her! Already on Oprah and everything! If anything, you should be thanking me! Think of all the people you could meet, the places you could perform! Carnegie Hall, Allen! Just imagine!"

For a second, he couldn't say anything. Carnegie Hall... that was the place that Mana had often spoke about, the times of wistful dreaming. The most famous hall in the world; the place where every musician wants to grab a chance at performing at. "I..." He started, suddenly unsure of himself.

"Mr. Allen and Ms. Lenalee, we've arrived," Came their driver's pleasant voice as he pulled up onto the driveway of a rather grandiose house.

"Thank you, Mr. Arystar," She thanked, giving him a smile. Their driver shook his head politely.

"Just Krory is fine, Ms. Lenalee," He corrected her, looking back and returning the smile. As Lenalee opened the door and got out of the car, she held it out for Allen, who meekly came out. Luckily the home was barred by iron gates so that paparazzi were unable to enter, but it didn't mean that they never flocked to the front where there were gaps. Quickly his manager ushered him inside, shutting the outside world off from the newly risen celebrity.

Taking off his shoes, Allen turned to Lenalee. "I'm gonna go to my room, Lenalee. Call me when dinner's ready, okay?" She nodded, taking her own off as well.

"Get lots of rest tonight, Allen! I booked us a plane to New York tomorrow! We're touring the city before your big debut, 'kay? So be ready to get hyped up!" Lenalee called as Allen bounded up the circular marble staircase, placing her left hand on her right bicep, clenching her hand in a fist to signify victory. The teenager groaned in response.

"Lenalee, you have to stop making all these reservations without my consent," He objected, throwing a rather irascible look over his shoulder towards his manager. She merely stuck out her tongue and waved at him from the foot of the stairs, mocking him.

"Be ready tomorrow at 9AM, Allen!" She called before skipping away to the kitchen.

Continuing on his way to his room, he opened the door handle and promptly slumped into the nearest bean-bag chair. "I'm home, Mana," He mumbled to no one in particular, closing his weary eyes.

-x-

Miraki combed her fingers through her hair, simultaneously getting rid of the hair tie that she'd used to keep her tresses back. Kicking off her leather boots, she shook her head, messing up the locks that she'd just straightened out. "Grandpa!" She called out, looking around her home. "Grandpa, you here?" Jogging into what they called the "living room" (that was basically the size of a tennis court), she glanced around, attempting to spot her aged grandfather.

A smile broke across her face as she found him sitting in his usual plush throne-like chair next to the roaring fire. "Grandpa!" Dodging the various furniture sitting around, the woman leaned over the side of the chair and embraced him, despite his protests. "How are you doing today?"

Her grandfather returned the look, beaming at his granddaughter. "Miraki!" He said, patting her back warmly. "I am fine, as usual. You make it sound like I'm about to keel over from disease anytime soon."

Miraki grinned. "Well, you never know! With your old age, I'm surprised you haven't developed dementia yet," She joked.

He gave a hearty laugh in response. "What, now? Don't curse me, dearest," He teased. "Perhaps I will develop dementia now, now that you've mentioned it."

"Grandpa!" She smiled. "You know I was just kidding."

"Ah, I know, I know," He replied, patting her head. "You know your Grandpa Tiedoll just loves to mess with you."

Sitting down in an armchair across from him, Miraki placed her right cheek in her right palm. "Hey, Grandpa, why do I need a bodyguard again?" She questioned. "Kanda is so antisocial! Whenever I try to talk to him, all he says is 'che' and 'shut up'. You should've hired a more talkative person! Besides, you know I can take care of myself. You're the one that forced me to take Tae Kwon Do when I was a kid."

Giving Miraki a melancholy smile, he answered, "Yu Kanda is a former student of mine, back in the days when I was still teaching the art of fighting. He was one of my last, and also one of my best. In order to protect you from future danger, I have recommended him to take care of you. I assure you, dearest, that no harm will come while you are in his company."

The singer sighed. "You always say this, Grandpa, but protect me from what? I'm just a singer. It's not like I'm being targeted by the Mafia or something. You make it sound like I'm a wanted criminal, or the daughter of a Yakuza boss."

Froi Tiedoll merely smiled knowingly. "Ah, Miraki, you never cease to amaze me with your ideas," He said lightly. Deciding that she would not get any questions answered, Miraki decided to take her leave.

"I'm gonna go up to my room and shower," She said, getting up and stretching her arms. "Good night, Grandpa." Miraki gave the elderly man a chaste kiss on the cheek just under his glasses before walking out the living room and heading up the stairs. Along the way, she saw the familiar paintings pass her on the left, hung up on the wall; drawings and sketches that her grandfather had made himself. They showcased numerous situations; towns, beaches, meadows, clouds. They always gave her a feeling of security and home when she saw him. At the top, she faced a certain indigo-haired man toweling down his hair, just coming out from the shower. Being a woman, she couldn't help but notice that all he had on to cover himself was a towel wrapped tightly over his legs, falling to the ankles. Also, a strange tattoo that she'd never really noticed before was etched onto the top left corner of his chest, around where his heart should be, but she couldn't quite make out the actual design; steam floated out of the bathroom, fogging up her line of vision slightly.

She wrinkled her nose in disgust, though she had to admit that he had abs to die for. "You need to cut your hair," Miraki called as Kanda walked towards his room, who had rolled up the towel he'd used to dry his hair and draped it around his neck. "Otherwise people are going to think you're too feminine."

She smirked as she could practically see him twitch. "Shut up, stupid puffer fish," He growled, not bothering to turn around and allow her to see his livid expression. After all, it would just add to her glee. The nickname was an odd one, developed after his first time seeing the singer pout. Kanda had told her that her inflated cheeks resembled that of the Japanese puffer fish, which she'd indignantly denied. From then on, he'd used it as an insult.

Opening the door to her room, which was conveniently located next to her bodyguard's (take a wild guess as to who arranged it), Miraki belly-flopped onto her queen-sized bed, giving a small "oomph" as she bounced from the impact. Rolling over onto her side, she glanced at the large calendar pinned to the wall next to the 60" plasma TV. Scribbled all over with permanent marker, red pen, and any other writing utensil that could be found, dates were crossed out and circled, footnotes were marked, and little reminders were written in tiny handwriting. Trailing her eyes over to tomorrow, Saturday, December 19th, she was surprised to see that the twister had somehow managed to miss that box. Strangely white and empty, there were no reservations, no concerts, no charity gatherings, no parties.

A free day. Now this was something that was not often seen in the life of a celebrity.

Rolling onto her back, Miraki faced the ceiling as she pondered what she should do tomorrow. She should spend it doing something worthwhile, something fun, since free days were few and hard to come by. Shuffling through her mind, she went through various options; head down to the Hudson River, go to an amusement park, visit Niagara Falls (after all, she had a personal jet, why not?), tease Kanda all day (this did seem like a rather entertaining opportunity), shopping, or...

A grin spread over her face. Yes, that seemed like a good idea. A good idea indeed.

She would have to tell Kanda tomorrow morning just to bother him. Oh, yes. She could already imagine his face in her mind...

-x-

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