A/N: This has been hanging around on my computer for weeks, waiting for me to think up something more to put in it. As I can think of nothing else to do with this after all this time, I'll just post it as is.

It's very different from my other Gunslinger Girl fic.

And if anyone can think of a better title, please tell me! It needs a better title!


Normal Naivete

"Guiseppe, you know everything, don't you?"

He is never prepared for when she says this kind of thing.

– – – – –

She was so mechanical, almost robotic in the beginning. Her mind had been a clean slate, wiped clear of everything human. Of course she ended up acting like a machine.

It was easy to deal with the machine.

// Elsa died without protecting Lauro. I guess that means cyborgs are human after all. //

However, there was still a bit of humanity in the girl. He saw it in the way she'd blush whenever he made a comment that was not strictly business. He heard it in the way she chattered with the other cyborgs. He sensed it in the way her tears never seemed to stop flowing while she was asleep. He knew that, in reality, she was very human indeed.

// What's wrong? Did you have a bad dream?
Well ... I don't really know. I can't stop crying. //

But he is never ready for that question, the question that made her the same as every other little girl with an older brother.

"Guiseppe, you know everything, don't you?"

The words he answers this question with, the words every caring and sympathetic brother always says, those crucial words that keep a little girl's world right-side up - those words he must always wrench out of his heart, leaving a gaping wound. And when he tries to say those words, his throat swells close and his mouth dries up. His tongue must always be unstuck from the roof of his mouth.

After all, he does not really know anything, much less everything.

Even so, he already knows too much.

He knows she will never grow up, will die long before he does. He knows that, if she is lucky, she will last for another two years. He knows that she will never, ever, ever leave the Social Welfare Agency, never have a normal life, except for the pieces of normality he can give her.

// Henrietta, hand me your case and the sig on your belt.
No, sorry, I can't. I absolutely must have these to protect you, Guiseppe!
Remember, we're a newspaper reporter and his niece, here on Christmas vacation. A normal girl wouldn't carry such things. //

And he knows that, despite the perfect physical health she will forever be able to enjoy, her mind will decline. He knows that she will lose her memories.

// Eventually, they'll become addicted or suffer memory dysfunction. //

He knows that, as she forgets, he will lose her.

// Where did you hear that?
I'm not sure... I forgot. I have a mental block. //

She will die.

// Using too much medication will shorten her life. //

No matter what he does, he cannot change this fate. He cannot lengthen her life. He cannot give her more time to live. All he can do is try to give her as much normality as he can.

// I quit smoking.
For Henrietta?
Yeah.
You're unbelievable. You're investing quite a lot in her. //

And that means answering her question as he would to a normal human girl, the way his older brother Jean had done for him. Not the way he would to a robot or a computer

"Yes," he said. A lie. A blatant, glaringly obvious lie. But also one that would do no harm at all. "I do."

– – – – –

He remembered asking Jean that particular question many times when they were young. Sometimes Jean would dodge the question. Sometimes Jean would answer no, flipping his little brother's world inside out and upside down. But most of the time he answered yes.

When the two were grown, Jean told him once that he only said yes to see the smile on his little brother's face.

Giuseppe hadn't believed it.

Until he found himself admitting to omniscience for the sake of a little girl's humanity.

For the sake of Henrietta's smile.


A/N: So ... how was it?