Hello everyone. Its me, Kiri. I've been away for a long time and I'm sorry. I really liked to original story for this, Hear Me Play, and decided it was written poorly, thus it needed rewriting. And I have changed a few things. But a lot of the basic factoids will stay the same. Well enough talking on my part, please enjoy this while I go and slave over another chapter.

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Chapter One:.: An End to a Beginning

Allen Walker has been adopted twice in his life. His real parents didn't have to means to take care of him, so they had to give him up.

When Allen was five he had been adopted by the kind man Mana Walker. Mana was the owner of the local circus. They traveled often from city to city, laughing, playing fun games, and Allen's absolute favorite, learning songs and music for the piano. That was until Allen was ten. Shortly after Allen's tenth birthday, Mana was murdered. The attack had been turned on him, and had caused his pale brown hair to turn a snowy white and had given him an oddly shaped scar and heavy mutilation on his left arm. Poor young Allen, who had had such a nice life with Mana, had to be given back into state custody. That is, until Marian Cross came into his life.

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Allen Walker, age fifteen, roamed the halls, peeking into the numerous rooms of Marian Cross's home. Having lived there for almost five years you would think that Allen knew what was in each room. But if you took into account how large the mansion was and how often Cross redecorated, then you would see why Allen was often so fascinated by the furnishings. There were themed rooms that changed as oft as a woman's mood. And Cross dated a great deal of women with a multitude of tastes. In fact that is why the rooms were changed so often. To suit any certain lady's fancy. Opening a French door, Allen gasped. Just beyond a king sized bed was a crème coloured piano. The keys shiny and new. Cross detested the instrument. Yet here it was.

Allen felt his heart pulse happily as he stepped nearer the bench.

'One song' he thought carefully, trying to remember a song that wouldn't take to long. Having come up with one he nodded gently. 'That wouldn't hurt.'

He loved to play so much and he hadn't so much as pecked a key since the piano in his school had been shipped away for repairs. And that was at least two months ago. He sat, and rested his hand delicately on the keys. His fingers fell into a rhythm, fairly quickly. He had decided upon Requiem for a Dream. A song Mana had drilled him on when he first learned it. He patiently dipped his head in time to the music. His playing had been flawless and unwavering. Just as he was feeling a smile tug at the corners of his mouth he heard a yell from the stairs and a door slamming. Allen's hands bounced off the keys quickly as he came to a finish.

"Brat! What on God's green earth are you doing?" Even though Cross was only on the stairs Allen could hear the snarl on his breath and feel his anger in flooding waves. The poor white haired boy jumped up from the bench, nearly knocking it over and prepared for a good excuse. He, sadly, found none. 'Why would such a mean guy adopt if he couldn't stand kids?' He thought in mock astonishment.

Cross was incredibly strict with punishments and had never released Allen from a grounding early. He managed to make the blood thirsty Huns appear like good natured nuns.

"I-I- I'm sorry, Mr. Cross! I wasn't th-thinking." Allen stammered out as said man approached the door in his red-haired fury. "I won't do it again I swear." He raised his hands in pleading way. Cross stood, irritably looking at him. He took a drag off of his cigarette and exhaled the smoke through his nose.

"It's fine." He said rather calmly. Had that flash flood of rage been an illusion? "In fact, since you love that thing so much, you can have it. Use it or whatever. But only when I am not here." He added a glare to emphasize his point.

Allen gaped like a fish at his adoptive father. His eyes welled up as he smiled widely. Had they finally come to an understanding? Had a moment where they clicked? Who cares! Allen was getting let off and getting to have a new piano! Unable to help himself he threw a hug around Cross and thanked him repeatedly.

"Hey! Let go! You won't be here nearly that often either!" Cross cried as he endeavored to pry Allen off.

'Cross says what?' Allen slumped away with a 'does not compute' look upon his features.

After analyzing the blank face the boy put up, Cross smiled, laughed an flipped his hair out of the way. "Did I really forget to mention it? I enrolled you into one of those "academies for the gifted."" He air quoted, puffing out a smoke ring. "Now what was it called? Black something."

Allen's eyes widened fiercely. ' What "academy for the gifted?"'He pondered. That only brought up two words in Allen's mind. Boarding. And School.

CLICK!

"You're shipping me off to boarding school!?" Allen screeched at the thought incredulously. Feeling distraught he couldn't think of why he was being sent away. Even if he had a definite distaste for Cross, he really didn't want to be alone again. "Well c'mon, da'! I cook, I clean, and I am nice and well behaved for your women! For Pete's sake, why ship me off?"

Rolling his eyes, Cross placed a 'comforting' hand on Allen's shoulder. "Now cool your jets, Sprout. I am . . . basically sending you there for you education, well-being, and all that other crap." He spoke with a stereotypical father tone. Allen narrowed his eyes in utter repulsion.

"Bull. Shit."

Cross's face knotted into a grimace. He shook his head and said, "Fine, fine. You want the truth then, hear it is. So far, every lady I have brought over thinks you are a complete downer. So you are not needed here." His hand made the universal 'shoo!' sign.

Allen stared coldly at Cross, not strictly troubled or truly angry, 'I'm really just that disposable.' He shook his head to rind himself of his thoughts and marched past his adoptive father and climbed another set of stairs up to his room.

Just as he reached his door he heard a shout rise up behind him, "Allen, pack your bags. Dropping you off tomorrow!" Allen touched his door knob and felt alone.

He wasn't actually leaving any friends behind. He never made any. He threw open the door and slammed it behind him, slapping on the dead-bolt. He promptly dove at his bead and buried his face in his pillow, unsure of if he was going to scream or cry. Instead he just let out some ghostly moans.

He got up and kicked the first thing he came across as a way to relieve this building frustration inside of himself. It happened to be his portfolio that took the blow. The case flew into the center of the large room and out of it came a hurricane of papers. All of his sheet music fluttered to the floor. Allen clenched his fists up and knew he would miss something.

He was going to miss Mana. No. He always missed Mana. But he wasn't going to be so close to his grave anymore.