PROLOGUE

It is never a pleasant experience to lose his or her memories. A person who wakes up, not knowing anything around them, it's just painful as it is. Perhaps they'd feel lonely, empty inside, because everywhere they go, it's just strange places, and strange people that they've surely met before and yet... they don't remember. And even if it's their own room, it's like they're not used to it at all.

People whom they've never seen before smiled at them. It's hard to stand it.

Even if it's for a day, to not remember yourself... nobody would know how hard it is, and especially if that person's memories will never ever return back to its owner. They have to start anew, new people, new experience, new sensations and feelings. But at the end of the day, the truth still remains, the fact that the memories that they do not know of, will never return. They will never return.

But in reality, memories, for normal people whom have them, is one of the things they take for granted, and that they will never appreciate it until they lose it. You can't remember what you don't remember. Some people might ask you questions and you have no answer. You can't even guess or speculate as you don't have a clue of what you forgot.

The change

First chapter: Morphemic Revelation

"There are two ways of meeting difficulties. You alter the difficulties or
you alter yourself to meet them."

—Phyllis Bottome—

The air smelled of sun-warmed bark and apple buds raring to blossom and get on with life. Overhead, a million baby leaves danced in the breeze. It was already around 7pm when Fran was returning to his house from school. Yes, I did say house. House and home had different meanings altogether even though they are quite similar in a sense. Home refers to a place where warmth in the heart exists, like a family that will be waiting for you. A house is a place where you live, where there is no warmth feeling or whatsoever. It was just a place for you to stay at.

Dusk was approaching rapidly, and the beautiful elaborate dance of the setting sun's golden and shining light reflecting on the building's windows was entrancing and yet reassuringly calming at the same time. Fran's mint hair moved slightly towards his face as the slow, passing cool breeze had blown it gently, making it tickle against Fran's naturally pale skinned face.

Fran hated his corrupted school. Yes, school— the reason why he was only returning until now!

That bossy and fat female teacher who tied her hair up like a maid or an auntie and had horrible clothes which doesn't even look like her size that were probably from a boutique that sells the clothes at 3 for $10. Okay, other than her really awful appearance— she has an even more awful attitude. Just because Fran talked back to her with his sarcasm, she made him stay back to teach him all about manners and respect for the teachers in the school for many hours. She's one person who can nag all day and not get thirsty from it.

Further more, nobody liked that teacher for she keeps nagging at them at the littlest things like: Whispering in class, not paying attention, scribbling on some notes— and many more that nobody even bother remembering already. And most of all, she always picks on Fran. And the reason? Well— there was one time in class where she asked Fran to answer a question when he wasn't paying attention and was looking outside of the window.

Of course, he answered it correctly, being known as the genius in his class— but in additional, he spotted a mistake in her question and even explained it to her— humiliating her thoroughly as the students laughed at how Fran could outwit her in Mathematics.

But that wasn't really anything to be proud of, for Fran, who was born a genius. Maybe not 'born' a genius, but he, after reading the textbook once, could memorize it and know all that they were supposed to know. If this wasn't classified as a 'genius', then what could? Besides, he didn't know if he was born like this either.

And even if he had stayed back for six hours, nobody would have cared. Fran didn't have any parents— no, he did have parents in the past. But they were murdered by assassins whom were paid to do so. It could have been because of people who didn't like them, especially Fran's father, who was a fierce boss of a certain company. So perhaps some employee who got sacked refused to accept it and decided to hire some assassins to assassinate him for his own satisfaction. Fran didn't really like his father anyway, so it didn't matter— but... he loved his mother.

But his mother was killed brutally in front of his very own eyes when he was only at the age of 10. That day, he was returning home after he had played with his friends. When he opened the door, expecting a warm smile and a 'Welcome home!' from his mother, he was devastated from what he had saw. The murderers killed both his mother and father. The ground was covered by Fran's parent's blood— and even the walls were stained. And what angers Fran the most is that, even after they had killed his parents, they even stepped on their motionless bloodied bodies!

And if Fran hadn't gone out that day, he would have been one of the corpses lying there.

The strange thing was that, one of the murderers did see Fran— but did not murder him. Perhaps they sympathized with him? No. If they had such emotions, they wouldn't kill his parents! But why that particular murderer didn't kill him was a question that Fran always had on his mind— and yet, even though he is a genius, he didn't know the answer to that.

So after that incident— which he very much didn't want to remember at all— Fran didn't smile, ever again. Not even once. There wasn't a reason for him to smile anymore. Not that he was still depressed about his parents death, but that his reason to smile— his mother— was now gone and now in another world where he couldn't see with his eyes. He knew that his mother wouldn't want him to be sad, but it's hardly possible not to be sad if someone whom you love so much is gone.

But enough of all the flashbacks, look, Fran's house is still like, 10 kilometers away? 'Damn it,' Fran cursed under his breath which was lower than a whisper. He still had a mountain of homework to do. Oh good lord, why do all the bad luck go to Fran anyway! And because of his damned teacher, he had missed the last bus out of here— which means he had to walk all the distance back home on another path. The path taken by the bus and the path on foot was totally different, but both of them lead to Fran's house.

And for some reasons, the breeze is getting colder and colder, which gives Fran the chills. Not that he was afraid of just a tiny little breeze— like you know, when something scary appears, there's always this dramatic breeze... yeah, that— but he was afraid that he might catch a cold and then he would have to go to one extra place— the clinic.

Now he was starting to think he was never going to return home forever.

But there was always this phrase, "A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step." So definitely one day, he would reach his house, right? Well, he would reach there if he keeps walking. The streets he was walking on was like, deserted. Only a few people were there, and every corner looked like the same. Somehow like a...ghost town? There was one time; previously, that he had walked on this street when he had missed the bus because of the same old teacher, and he felt like someone was following him. But luckily, nothing really happened, and he returned home safely, but got scolded by his father for returning home that late.

This was the second time he was walking on this street. Well... even if it's that creepy, he still has to go home. Not like he could sleep anywhere he likes— like the park? No. The government makes people who sleep at the park pay a fine. Tsk, inconsiderate government, knowing that a person who sleeps at park is homeless— and definitely having some economy problems, and yet he still fines them! Not like any of these are Fran's problem though, for he has a house— and money that he had gotten after his parents' death. It was enough to help him live his entire life already because his father had a big business, after all.

Now, he walked and saw a dim light which was from a shop. It was a shop that Fran had seen when he was returning home the previous time he walked on this road.

It seems that the shop sells snacks and other necessary stuffs. Since he had nothing to focus his view on, he just scanned through whatever was in the shop. The first thing he saw was the water. By water, yes, I do mean plain water. And if Fran squinted, he could see distilled water from the labels.

Distilled water is different from plain water because it contains no minerals, which is actually bad for health instead. Some people think they are healthier, but they are absolutely wrong. It takes away the minerals in our body instead, that's why they cost cheaper than normal plain water. Fran wonders why they even sell such stuffs. But drinking it only once wouldn't do harm to our body, but drinking it everyday is a different story altogether— you would die.

Without giving the shop another glance, Fran resumed his journey back home in a normal walking pace, or slightly faster. By then, the sun had already fully set, and the moon was their in its place. Sure, the road was all dark and it was really hard to see because the lampposts didn't even light up. Perhaps the power station malfunctioned, which was a little impossible, or the wires inside of the lamppost was cut off, altered or messed up. There are other possibilities too, seeing as how all of them did not light up.

Lucky for Fran, there weren't any cars around here, probably because it's deserted and there wasn't any shop except for the shop that was far behind him he had just passed up a few minutes ago.

Nothing here, nothing there, of course nobody would want to come here. Especially in the night, where it's hard to see, and most importantly, for most people, they would be scared— but not Fran. Well, probably because he can watch ghost movies at the death of the night and still not be scared of going to the toilet alone and not have nightmares.

Thud.

A 'thud' sound sounded from what was in front of Fran, but he couldn't see. The road was even darker than the previous half that he had walked on. Fran could sense a presence— no, two presence in front of him. He clenched his fist, moved his legs and got ready for an attack that may come his way anytime. But the two 'presence', most likely humans— did not do anything, but moved closer to Fran.

By the time the two people were nearer to him, he could see them. On the right was a tall man, probably in his 20s. He had blond-yellow hair which was as messy as lambswool, and on his head, there was a... tiara? Wait! He was a man, right? Why was he wearing a tiara? Fashion sense? How weird. Forget it, that man wore a striped shirt with a jacket. Plus, his fringe covered his eyes to the extent that Fran thinks he couldn't even see. And, wouldn't it be... disturbing to keep it so long?

Beside the tiara-headed man, there was a super long haired guy— Guy? More like a girl to me. So— super long haired person, having a sword as a hand. Opps, a weapon. And unlike the blonde, he buttoned up the entire jacket which had a crest on it. Those jackets, and the crest, looked exactly the same as the ones who had murdered Fran's parents when he was 10.

If those people were the one who murdered his parents, then this would be a great time to avenge them. Not that Fran had learnt Kung Fu or Taekwondo or anything else though... okay, he didn't know how to fight. He had nothing up his sleeves, so... he was in danger, right? Fran was starting to panic a little by the time he realized that he was in danger. So, right now, running away would be the best solution, probably. If those people run faster than him, he would be toasted. Dead.

'But aren't I a little too young to die?'

..Not exactly young anymore, actually. Even in such situations, Fran's sarcasm is still intact. But deep down, he was really afraid that he might just die. But still! Those people were not even attacking him. Maybe they are just passing by! Yeah— that's what they are doing— probably. Convinced by his own delusion, he feels much more relaxed than just now, but none the less, still worried about his own safety.

After his own 'conversation' with himself in his own worrying mind, Fran walks forward slowly.

'Ohhh, dear God, if I make it through this, then I'll pray at a temple everyday and I'll even buy you any food you want, okay?'

Praying loudly in his mind and heart, he walks closer to the two people— trying to get pass them and get home safety— but they were just standing there, as if waiting for something. Out of curiosity, Fran looked up at them, and he could see the blonde-haired person holding a paper which has a photo on it. That picture... Fran's mother? Why did he have it?

Fran wanted to find out more, but for his own safety, no. Who knows what these people would do if Fran ever offended them. Looking away from them slowly, his mink hair covered his face at will to hide the view. He then wanted to walk away, but, from behind, a hand appeared and grabbed Fran's wrist with strength that was enough to prevent Fran from moving one step forward. He could feel the person who was grabbing his wrist behind him, very near. Fran didn't say anything, for he was afraid that whatever he says might offend the attacker.

Seems like even God wasn't on his side today. How unlucky.

"The prince didn't say that you could go, did he?"

The attacker, from behind, whispered into his ears in a seductive tone that was like a whisper. Fran could feel his hot breath beside his ears and he admitted, the warmth, it kind of... a little bit, felt good. But now wasn't the time for this! What did he do to make them attack him anyway? None that Fran could recall, but perhaps that day, those murderers, which Fran still thinks are the ones who are attacking him right now, didn't kill him, so that's why they wanted to kill him today?

"Let me go."

Mustering the courage, he spoke softly, but there was a hint of confidence and determination in those words, not the 'I'm-so-scared' tone, of course. But still, Fran hoped that they didn't hear the wavering of his voice. He did waver, for a bit, because he was scared. I mean, who wouldn't be scared, seeing as how two murderers are behind you right now, going to kill you eventually?

"No way~ not after we had gone through the trouble of finding you, who is only a peasant."

His grip was still strong, and Fran had tried to move or struggle, but to no avail. And if Fran had heard him right, the man did say that they were finding him. But why? Was he some descendant from some noble bloodline or some ancient pharaoh that they needed to go through the trouble of finding him? Or maybe he had some magic powers that he didn't even know he had? Gah, forget it, all those were just nonsensical delusions.

With little effort, Fran turned around, asking rudely, "So what the hell do you want from me?"

"Ushishishi. Don't try to act dumb, peasant. That pineapple peasant recommends you to be our new illusionist."

Sensing that Fran wouldn't just run away like a coward, the blonde let go of his wrist to let him answer the question properly. And even if he tries to run away, they would definitely chase after him with ease.

"I think you have a severe case of mistaken identity."

"Voi!" The man with long, silver hair shouted angrily, "We have a severe case of mistaken identity? You kidding us? We're searching for you for months and you fucking dare give me this shit?"

"Wow, dude. Chill, you'll lose hair if you keep getting stressed up."

The long-haired man gritted his teeth in rage and fury, then, he raised his blade to his stomach-level, almost looking like he was going to attack Fran because he had just offended him with his sarcasm. But that's how Fran is. His sarcasm is endless! That often makes people angry, but his sarcasm is... quite funny, really, but only the viewers, the one who are watching the 'fight' would think it was funny. The one whom which the sarcasm is directed to will not think that way.

But instead of attacking, he turned his head away from Fran, looked away and gave a 'tch' sound. Typical guy he is. Was hair really that important to him? But getting stressed up really can make you lose hair.

"The prince doesn't like to play around. Just admit you are the one recommended by the pineapple peasant! Ushishi," The blonde smirked.

"And like I said— or do you have hearing problems— I don't know who is this pineapple dude you keep blabbing about and I don't know anything about illusions. I'm just a normal high school student, that's all!"

"...Voi, trash, did you lose your memories or something?"

Lose memories? Yes, Fran did lose his memories, and the only thing he remembered was his name. He was only 8 when he had lost his memories of whatever was in the past, and when he woke up, he found himself in the arms of the 'parents' who were murdered. Fran knew that the people he calls 'Mother' and 'Father' aren't his real parents— but they treated him like their own child, so he felt he should treat them the same, as his real parents. But after a year, his 'father' got bored of treating Fran nicely and devoted more time to his business and didn't care about him. The only person who cared was his mother whom Fran loved.

But it hurts— not remembering the things that he had to remember. And he didn't even know how he lost his memories in the first place! It was as if someone had erased them on purpose. Was he someone of great importance? Someone who had power? Or was he just someone that nobody even cared about? He didn't know.

"Yeah— I did lose my memories. So what about it?"

"Ushishi. So— you don't remember anything?"

"I don't. Since I was only 8. And then when I was 10— my parents were murdered by people who had jackets like yours. Especially that crest. But one of them did see me, or maybe he didn't— and he didn't kill me."

"And you don't know anything about illusions?" The long-silver-haired guy asked with a tone in which anger could be heard from it. Seems like he wasn't the patient type at all.

"No," He answered in a rather annoyed tone than a pleasant one. What's up with these illusions crap that they keep talking about? Or did they just got the wrong person? Severe case of mistaken identity— perhaps, like what he had said previously. But not many people had mink hair and green eyes. It's really rare, so it's most unlikely that they got the wrong person.

"Ushishi. Your powers probably activated on the day your parents were killed because you were afraid, that's why you are still alive today, because we couldn't see through that illusion, peasant. Your powers are still there, just that you need to relearn how to use them again."

So— perhaps that was why they couldn't see him!

His powers activated... to save himself from getting killed by those hysterical murderers. Was he as powerful as they say he was? And is there really a way to relearn them, seeing as how he can't even cast a simple illusion right now to save himself from getting killed by these people in front of him, which was quite seemly?

So in other words, Fran was a really skilled illusionist before he had lost his memories, which was when he was 8. And without knowing that he was an illusionist, he had spent 2 years in that corrupted school, studying? And now, these people had came here, telling him that he can relearn them. Well, seriously... and it doesn't even sound like a prank. These people are serious. Fran could tell, from their eyes— or from the white-haired person's eyes.

"So... again, I ask, what do you want from me?"

"You're coming with us, back to the Varia Headquarters, trash."

Fran sighed in desperation that he had to go with them and relief that the worst wasn't about to happen, rolled his eyes, "Seems like I don't really have a choice, do I."

And he knew from there, his life was going to make a really big change— a really big turn, and that everything he once knew would be really different once he joins these guys. But if he rejected going with them, he would have turned into a bloodied corpse which will be lying on the ground in just a few seconds, seeing as how dangerous they seem to be.

"And, what are your names...?"

"The prince's name is Belphegor. But just call him Bel— and he's Squalo."

"Okay, Bel-senpai." Fran hoped that they didn't hear the hatred in his voice. I mean, who the hell would work for people who had murdered your own parents who you loved? Okay, loved the mother, not the father— but still! Nobody would do that— unless threatened to, like poor Fran here. And also, Fran wanted to find out why they had his mother's photo.

Why did they kill his parents?

Bel grinned, somehow happy that Fran called him senpai. After all, he was the youngest after Mammon had died, so finally, someone was younger than him. Mammon's death was why they would even 'kidnap' Fran and force him to join even though they knew that they themselves were the ones who killed Fran's parents. They needed an illusionist, and if it was one recommended by Rokudo Mukuro, then they knew he would be skilled.

And Fran thought that if he was in the Varia Headquarters with them, he would have more advantage and could kill the one who killed his parents much more easily. He had to take revenge for his parents.

"VOI! Stop chitchatting and fucking get in the taxi!"

"...Taxi?"

Which murderer would use a taxi? A taxi. A taxi for goodness sake! Aren't they like, super rich? Can't they afford a car?

"Ushishi. The prince wanted to bring his limo, but it was way too big for this peasant road, so we had to come here on a taxi."

"Sure..."

So they were rich after all. Maybe not 'they', but him himself was rich. Like he keeps saying for the pass few minutes, he was a prince. Not sure if that was true because he wears a tiara instead of a crown and he's a man. Maybe he didn't know he was a man or something. Or perhaps they didn't know that tiaras are meant for girls? Or maybe— okay, this is endless. In other words, Bel is a weirdo.

Irritated by the delay, Squalo gave Bel and Fran one last dead-angry glare before he turned around and stormed forward, where Fran supposed where the taxi is. Drip. A tiny water droplet dripped onto Fran's face. Seems like it's going to rain really soon. He had better get into the taxi before he gets soaked from head to toe and catch a cold. He wonders if there are even clinics there. And what if he gets sick? Argh.

Shaking his meaningless thoughts away, Fran follows Bel who keeps on smirking for no particular reason further into the road. It was really dark until the extent where he has to squint to see what's in front of him. The government should really fix the lampposts, seriously. Seeing that Fran couldn't see, Bel, from in front, took Fran's wrist and pulled him so that he could get into the taxi.

"Ushishi, you sure are a troublesome kouhai."

Bel complained, but still— with a smirk, now sitting in the taxi. Now, Squalo was sitting in front with the taxi driver whom looks pretty regular to Fran, probably not a murderer or even part of the Varia, and behind, Fran was sitting on the left side of the seat while Bel was sitting on the right side, pretty close to Fran with his right leg on top of his left.

"I couldn't see, senpai. And why you, the one who has fringe covering half of your face, can see what's in front of you?"

"The prince can see through the gaps between the hairs, stupid peasant. Aren't you a genius as stated by that pineapple peasant? Shouldn't you know such stupid stuffs?"

"I am, but the hair is really thick that I'm afraid it doesn't look like there are even gaps."

With a swift movement, Bel took out one of his infamous knives and stabbed it into Fran's head. But his facial expression changed after he stabbed it in his head— as if he was worried he might just die. After all, Bel always has this habit of stabbing people without thinking of the consequences, so that may be the reason why he was a little shocked. His mouth opened a little, wanting to ask if Fran was okay, but his pride didn't allow him.

The reason why Bel was shocked and cares for if Fran was okay and not dead was because if Fran was dead, then they had to find a new illusionist and that would bring a whole lot of troubles to them, not because Bel likes Fran at all. Seriously, he wouldn't really care if Fran was dead if he wasn't the new illusionist.

But surprisingly, instead of bleeding and dying, Fran calmly took out the knife, bended it and snapped it into half and threw it out of the window which he opened at the same time as he threw it and later on, closing it. Sure, nobody except Fran knew that he had a disorder for pain. That's why he didn't even flinch when the knife went into his head.

"Wha— you can't feel pain, peasant?" Bel, even though being the genius he was, was a little shocked about Fran not being able to feel pain. Not all humans could avoid feeling pain, after all. So it was a disorder for pain. But people with disorder for pain have a dire weakness. Just because they couldn't feel pain, even when they're going to lose their lives, they wouldn't know, because they can't feel.

But still, if the impact was great and the strength was large, people with disorder for pain can still feel the pain, a little.

"I can't feel pain— I have a disorder for pain, senpai."

Hearing those words, Bel's expression turned from worried to an irritated facial expression. Now that he knows he can't feel pain, how would he threaten him? Ah, but of course, being the genius he is, he knew that even if he has a disorder for pain, that disorder wouldn't work if the pain was really hurts. Like, stabbing into the heart or stomach? Yeah, sure, he would surely feel the pain. Giving a slight nod at Fran, Bel resumed his smirking-fetish.

Outside, it was raining heavily— cats and dogs. Droplets of the rain stained the window, making it feel cold and chilly when Fran placed his fingers on the window. The raindrops traveled to another raindrop, joined and connected with the raindrop and continued its journey down and drips down the door of the car. Even though it seemed childish, Fran loved to see the raindrops like that. It was as if they were alive and moving.

Tilting his head towards the nearby window, Fran stared outside, his maelstrom of thoughts and emotions were giving him a headache already. He wanted peace and quiet, and somehow, the sound of the rain pitter-patting seemed to calm his mind, giving him the peace he needed. After all, Fran loved the rain. It seemed to cleanse all of earth's impurities, wash away the sorrows of people and also, washing away the hatred in the hearts of people. A pure tranquility, as if a gift from god.

But even if he loved the rain, he didn't love the coldness.

Ah, it was really cold, and the air-conditioner inside didn't really help much, for it just increased the coldness of the surroundings. Wanting to keep warm, Fran rubbed his fingers together in an up-down motion, then blowing hot breath into them, somehow keeping warmth.

Bel, who was sitting next to him, supposedly looking at the window a moment ago, tilted his head and from the corners of his eyes, looked at Fran who was struggling to find warmth. Okay, the action that Fran was doing was kind of... cute, Bel admits. No, no, no! How can he think that Fran was cute? After all, Fran was just an annoying and troublesome kouhai. But he just couldn't help looking at him. And no, Bel wasn't smirking anymore. He was just staring at Fran with no smile at all, nothing.

Fran didn't seem to realize that Bel was staring at him though. Perhaps he was just too cold to realize something so insignificant.

"Oi, peasant. Take this." Shoving a large jacket which probably could keep Fran warmth swiftly at him, Bel immediately turns his view away and looked at the window beside him. Sensing the concern from Bel, Fran smiles slightly, which Bel couldn't see. But no matter, as long as the appreciation was felt.

"Thanks for the jacket, senpai."

Bel just smirked as he always did as Fran put on the large jacket, feeling warmer than ever. Ah, comfort! The feeling that he needs and instantly, as if someone had casted a sleeping spell on him, Fran feels exhausted, tired, and falls asleep to the ever-beating rhythm of the pitter-patting rain. After all, there's still a lot of adventure ahead of him, so he needs a good rest.

Author's notes: My apologies for not updating for quite a long time. It's because I've been anticipating my PSLE results and was unable to concentrate on story-writing, that's why. But now that it's over, I can write again! Next update in 1-2 weeks, so get ready!