Author's note thingie: I do NOT own CB or any of it's characters or universe. This is a FANWORK, so it's quite obvious I think. Suing will only get you an overburdened computer of mine, and a cat, because that's all I have, being a bored housewife. :P And if you see any weird grammar, it's probably because English is not my natural language, and right now I have no beta-reader. :P The song "Endless Rain" belongs to X-Japan (And sorry if the lyric quotes are incorrect, but I don't have the lyrics for the song, and I'm not that good in Japanese. :P )

Story Genre: Idiotism. I recommend you to don't take anything in this fic serious. Really. It doesn't have any inner message or crap like that. It's just for fun. For mine, or for yours. I also recommend that if you are easily getting disturbed by anything, then go to somewhere else, likewise if you don't like the story. You don't have to read it, you know.

Quick Summary: Ever thought of what would happen if only one of your wishes come true? Gren did. And someone granted him only one wish, which turned out to screw up everything…Or not? We'll see…

Chapter 1: Grant me a wish…

It was a usual snowy day on Callisto. Blistering cold, endless wailing of the icy wind, crows everywhere. A pair of sad blue eyes stared out from a window of an utterly ugly blue house.

Something told him not to go out that day, but he just refused to listen to his inner voice. He took his long coat, and left the building to take a long walk, and angst on things he shouldn't.

His past was haunting him like always, getting him into the point that he got bored of his memories himself. That day was an old holiday, when lovers celebrated. He saw some couple on the streets, and couldn't decide for a moment what to do: Throw up, or burst out crying, because he was alone, like a thumb. He was just getting frustrated even more. Night fell quickly, and he turned back to walk home, and prepare to go to work. As he walked in a fast pace, he didn't notice the small old man in front of him, and almost knocked him over.

- Oh, very sorry… I didn't notice… - He started to explain, but the old man shook his head.

- Why are you apologising, my son…? It's your lucky day.

A dark-blue brow was raised.

- Lucky day, huh? Well, I'm really sorry pops, but I have no time to chit-chat…I have to pack my things and get myself to my workplace in a few minutes…Farewell!

- Farewell. May we meet again someday…Grencia…

He froze in his movement in that funny way people used to, when someone, who they never met before calls them on their name. He turned around to ask the old bag, how did he know, but he found no one there.

Later he was sitting next to the piano and Mike, and was staring out into nothing. He only blinked when his friend poked his shoulder.

- What's with you tonight? – Mike asked. – You are like a lunatic.

- Err… - Gren started to explain - …You know, I was out for a walk today, and met that weird old guy, who knew my name… And it bothers me, because I never saw him before, so how in the bloody hell he knew my name, I ask…?

Mike was listening to his friend, and slowly decided he will send Gren home to rest. He probably got a fever, and talking nonsense. So he said:

- Gren. Go home, and rest, okay? You probably have a fever.

The taller man was blinking in confusion for a moment, then slowly nodded.

- Yeah…you must be right. I don't feel so good anyway…

Mike patted Gren's shoulder, and helped him pack his things and go.

Snow kept falling. He kept thinking of that annoying encounter. Finally the door of his home was closed behind him, and he tossed his coat to the couch, and toed off his shoes. He saw a little piece of paper on the table, and picked it up. It was a note with an unfamiliar handwriting:

"Ever thought about your wishes come true?" Gren raised one of his brows, and dug out his lighter from his pocket. He placed the small note into the ashtray, and lighted it.

- So much for my wishes…

He opened the window to let the smoke out, and took his bathrobe.

- Wishes never come true… - he whispered as he walked into the bathroom, and stepped under the shower. The hot drops of water fell on him, like rain. He liked rain, though it was rare on Callisto. He rubbed the dirt of the day off from himself, and slowly sang an old song.

- "…Endless rain /fall on my head / kokoro no kitsugi / Let me forget / All of the hate / All of the sadness…"

He just finished with both the singing and the shower when someone spoke from the washing machine's direction.

- If you want to forget all of your sadness, then why did you burn the message?

Gren jumped up to the ceiling almost literally. He carefully opened the curtain and peeked out, just to see the old midget sitting on his washing machine. His eyes grew wide, and for a moment he forgot that he supposed to get something on.

- How did you get inside my friggin' bathroom? – He yelled.

- Easily. I used the door, you know.

- That's not the point! How did you get inside here?! I don't remember letting you in!

The old man chuckled.

- I'm a spirit, young one.

- Oh, yeah right, and I'm the queen of Timbuktu. – The sarcastic answer came.

- If that's your wish…

Gren reached out and took his bathrobe, then stepped out from the shower to stand in front of the small man.

- Listen here, spirit or not, I'm going to throw your ass out of here. I didn't call you, so that's nothing but privacy violation.

- But you called for me. In your dreams.

Gren snorted. The whole thing started to seriously go on his nerves. Nerves, which weren't in the greatest condition anyway. A long, lithe arm wrapped itself around the midget, and he started to carry him out from the bathroom. Just before he reached the bathroom door, he realized that the body he was carrying is not under his arm anymore. He froze again, sweat drops appeared on his head, and he blushed, but his face wasn't red, it was blue. He slowly, very slowly turned back to the washing machine. The old man waved at him from the top of it.

- Okay, I know now… - Gren chuckled. - …I must be going insane…How is that thing called, "Schizophrenia"? You are nothing but a creation of my imagination, which I see as real…Or you are another personality of me…?

He ran his hand through his long hair and slid down to the floor and leaned to the door.

- I'm crazy… I'm sure of it… Dang, I should have shot myself earlier, before it happens… Oh drat…

The midget jumped off from the washing machine, and walked next to the taller man, who looked like someone, who is close to get a nervous breakdown.

- There-there. – He patted Gren's back. – You are not crazy, my friend. You know, we spiritfolk rarely seen among you, humans. It's because you are not believe in us anymore. A few centuries ago people believed in us, and we were an everyday sight…Wait a minute what are you doing with that…?

But before the spirit could finish his sentence he got smashed by a laundry-basket.

- I have to sleep now… Maybe it's gonna be better tomorrow… - Gren muttered, and staggered into his bedroom, collapsing into his bed, like a corpse.

The next morning he woke up with a soothing thought of the whole thing from yesterday was nothing, but a weird dream. He imagined Mike's face when he tells him about it…Or wait, no, he won't tell, they may think that he's really going mad… He stretched, and scratched his head. Something was in his left fist. He opened it, and found a cookie in it, from the type you can eat at Chinese restaurants, and they have a note baked inside them. His eyes grew wide again, and he threw the cookie out from the window.

- I need to go to a psychiatrist… - he muttered.

- Oh, so you're up already? It's a bit early, I must say.

The voice was somehow familiar. He turned around and groaned.

- Why are you still here?

- I'm here to make one wish of yours come true.

Gren just gave a frustrated grunt, and went back to the bedroom to take on his clothes. He was combing his hair and was desperately thinking of the phone-number of the psychologist he visited once, when he was really down. Unfortunately, he didn't find it.

Finally he decided to open the door of the bedroom, and peek around, if the midget is still there. He wasn't, so Gren opened up the door, and walked to the kitchen. The spirit was there, humming a tune and baking something. He didn't stop humming, not even when Gren gave a rather womanly scream, and fled back to the bedroom.

Later the spirit knocked on the bedroom door, and when no answer came, he just stepped through it. He found the human hiding behind the closet, clutching to the handle of a gun.

- Listen here, you cannot harm me with a gun.

- If you come one step closer, I'll shoot you! – Gren shouted hysterically. The spirit shook his head.

- Say, is that so unbelievable, that I came here to make a wish of you come true?

- Don't. Come. Closer.

- Look at yourself. Want to know how do you look like?

- Shut up…

- …I see a grown man, crouching barefoot behind a closet, and aiming a gun on his bedroom wall, and generally acting like a woman…

That was the point when he got fed up with everything. He shot. The wall before him died a painless death. The spirit shook his head again.

- That's exactly what I'm talking about, Grencia.

Tears welled up in Gren's eyes, slowly streaming down his face. He felt hopeless, helpless, and pathetic. He gave in.

- Okay… I don't care… What do you want from me? – He sobbed.

A wide, victorious smile spreaded through the face of the spirit.

- I came to make your wish come true, as I said about a bazillion times already. You threw my fortune-cookie out today morning, so I had to bake another one for you. Here.

He placed another small Chinese cookie into Gren's hand.

- What am I supposed to do with it? – He sniffled.

- It's easy. You think of the thing you want the most, and break the cookie. I will disappear after that, and never return again. What is your strongest desire? What are you waiting for, for years now? Just remember, and break the cookie.

Gren rubbed his nose, and sat down on the ground, holding the fortune-cookie for a while. He was thinking on his strongest desire… His features hardened as he grabbed the two ends of the cookie.

- So be it…- He said and broke the cookie in two halves. Suddenly everything became blurry, and covered in a strange blue haze. He felt his body hitting the ground.

End of Chapter one.

Mike belongs to Team Sireg. :3

Note Nr 2: If any of you guys out there have any ideas for a continuation, just tell me in a comment, okay:3