A/N: I don't own D. Gray-Man. Though I would love to own Kanda.
Her first words to him were, "Boy, would you like to hear a song?" Her fingers twitched as she waited for the rejection she new was coming. They had all rejected her, tried to destroy her, left her without a purpose; and they had all died because of that rejection. So she waited, waited for the little boy to refuse her offer, deny her her purpose, and leave her no choice but to retaliate with violence and blood shed.
"You would sing for me?" The boy sounded astonished that anyone would want to do anything for him that did not involve pain and suffering. Looking down at him she wondered what trials he had faced that made him so surprised to be offered any form of kindness. "Miss Ghost, I would love to hear you sing."
Then she sang. A song full of sorrow for the lost civilization that once lived in this deserted city, full of loneliness in remembrance of the centuries spent alone in the desolation of the place she called home, and full of something else, something only one possessing innocence could truly sing of; hope.
She sang for the boy and in return he stayed with her, giving her purpose once more. Together they shared the wonders that were life, watching the stars at night, playing hide and seek in the shade to pass the long hot days. He would brush her hair and tell her she was beautiful. He named her; Lala. It was with him she found what she had lost, a purpose. It was with her he found what he was missing, a companion. Together they knew what it was to be happy.
Then one night the Exorcists had come for her; to remove the thing that made her last for so long, the innocence. Then too, the Akuma had come; to destroy her and take the innocence. He had protected her; claimed to be the doll, the Ghost of Mateel, the innocence. The Akuma had torn them apart, separating her from her purpose, breaking what they had held so dear for so long.
Now though... now his head lay in her lap and he was breathing his last. She gently cradled his head, remembering all they once were, and watching him as he left her alone.
Then she sang. For three nights she sang; three nights to remember a lifetime and mourn the loss of a true friend. For without him she had no purpose and all was lost.
She was made by man; she was never a creation of God. If she had tears to cry, she would weep for him. If she had a heart that beat, it would cease when his did. She sang for him, a lullaby of sorts, to send him on his way to eternity; and on the third night her heart stopped for him. There was no fear of the end. No apprehension of what was to come; just peace.
Without Guzol, Lala did not exist.
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This story is dedicated to H&S. Thanks for your support. :)