Van couldn't believe his eyes. There she was... Hitomi... The embodiment of all that was pure and beautiful, so innocent and full of dreams and ideals, kissing that smug knight. Van has always respected Allen, because of his battle prowess and wisdom, but never had a high opinion of him as a person. There was something unsettling about him... A look in his eyes he had when there wasn't a woman in the room to impress... He just couldn't shake of the feeling that Allen was a selfish person, an egomaniac and a player.

There was blood on his arm, trickling down from the place where his nails pierced the skin. He hadn't even noticed that he was hugging himself, and he felt no pain – how could any kind of physical distress ever compare to losing your faith in someone? Van just couldn't understand... How could she?



But then again, Allen probably was the better choice. He was everything that Van wasn't – tall, blond, older, experienced, gallant and always quick to give a lady some kind of an appropriate compliment. He could never give Hitomi anything more then a short word of comfort here and there, spoken with a coarse voice with his eyes downcast. Maybe he could work on it... Perhaps he could change for her?

A rage seized him as that thought crossed his mind. He realized he didn't want to change, and why should he? He was honorable, he never lied... Never offered more then he could give, unlike Allen. If Hitomi couldn't see that... If a glittering illusion was more important to her then the truth, then so be it. It wasn't meant to be.