A/N: So, just a quick little one-shot I did. I was going to make it longer and had no intention of stopping it where I did, but... Well, I got to write that point and felt that it sounded conclusive, so I didn't keep going. Haha. I could just as easily keep building on this idea; I thought of turning it into a chapter story, even, but didn't have a clue where I could get this to go. So, unless I get caught in a wind of inspiration, this is probably it. But, either way, I hope you enjoy reading this!

Disclaimer: I don't own Tales of the Abyss. Believe me, you would know if I did.

Weaving A Delicate Lie

"Tell her that you are the real Ion."

Sync raised a brow. While Van had always been showing off a very obvious deceptive nature, he had rarely, if ever, seen it as plainly malevolent as it was right now.

What had brought this on, he wondered?

Just last week, Legretta had suggested to Van that Sync be allowed to remove his mask—to show Arietta his face. But saying that he had refused would be an understatement. Van had been adamant about what he wanted done with the girl; he wanted her to know nothing of the fate of her precious Ion. Without a doubt, it was because he didn't want to lose one of his God-Generals.

If Sync simply pulled off his mask and told her of everything—that Ion was dead and he was a replication of him—then it was almost sure that she would commit suicide. However…

However, if she thought he was Ion, then she would fight like no tomorrow.

Van must have realized this. Sync's face was identical to Ion's. There was no doubt in his mind that, if he put on an act, then he'd be able to make this girl believe that he was honestly and truly Fon Master Ion.

So, for as long as she lived or as long as she thought he was Ion, he would need to pretend to be some "pure" and perfect replica? And he'd have to deal with being called Ion, too? The very idea of it sounded torturous—he didn't like it one bit.

But Van certainly wouldn't put up with him refusing this plan. He'd probably question his purpose, like asking him where he would find another one if Van took his away.

What a pathetic existence.

"So you're going to keep fooling her? Right to the very end?" Sync questioned as a smirk appeared on the visible part of his face. He couldn't disguise the fact that he really didn't care; he couldn't care less about what she did, whether it was committing suicide or being incredibly happy that her Ion was still alive.

Okay, so maybe that was a lie.

The idea of her being incredibly happy made him want to vomit.

"This is necessary." That was Van's answer to everything. It was necessary. It was almost as bad as that other defective replica, Luke, who liked to blame everyone else for his mistakes. "Arietta will become more effective if you do this; it will be easy for you."

Sync snorted. "Right," he muttered sarcastically, "That weakling and I are exact opposites."

"This Fon Master is, maybe," Van said, smiling eerily, as if he were about to reveal some kind of information that just might surprise Sync and with the way he was talking now, it probably would. "The original Ion treated her like a dog."

Sync raised a green eyebrow. That was a surprise. The original Ion treated her like some sort of pet and she worshipped the very ground she walked on.

Sync didn't understand.

"This is going to be easier than I thought," Sync muttered, watching as Van nodded in agreement. He seemed to have predicted this answer. After all, Sync would find treating anyone nicely to be the most difficult thing in the world, but he could treat anyone like a dog.

All he had to do was pull off his mask, say he was Ion and pat her on the head like she was some sort of idiot and she would believe him.

Hopefully.

"So you will accept this assignment?"

Sync merely smiled, at first, before saying, in a distinctly Ion voice, "Of course." It was possibly the most sickeningly sweet thing he'd ever said in the two years of his life. He wanted to laugh, too. It sounded just like him—he sounded just like Ion.

It was disgusting.

There she was, crying again because of something Dist had said about her precious Ion. Did she have to be so sensitive about these sorts of things? Somehow, he didn't think Dist's words would've bothered the Fon Master—not the original and not the replacement either. The fact that she was so put off by his comments was disturbing.

She was overreacting, at best.

"Stop talking about Ion like that, Dist!" she cried out as Sync watched from the other side of the dining table. Dist was wearing a sickening, fitting grin; he felt himself smirk. His change in expression, however, caught Arietta's eye. "What are you smirking about, Sync? You're just as bad!"

He laughed. He couldn't help himself. Her reaction was just so… funny. All this yelling and screaming about how bad he and Dist were for making a jab at her precious, pathetic Ion. What did she see in that weakling, anyways? He didn't get what was so great about him. He was the Fon Master; his father died, then he died, and he didn't doubt that his perfect replica would die similarly, too.

"Whatever," he finally muttered, clearly unfazed by her accusations. Here, she was, calling him a bad person for smirking when she didn't even know the one she had loved ever so dearly had croaked somewhere along the way. She didn't see the difference—couldn't see it.

The fighting continued on between she and Dist after Sync removed himself from the argument. Instead, he settled with watching. How amusing it was to see her face grow red with fury over the comments that Dist made. As much as he abhorred Dist, Sync had to admit that he did well in provoking Arietta, until she made a jab at him and the whole damn thing just turned into an annoyance.

"I am not a child!" she insisted, "If anyone here is a child, it is you, Dist!" Again, he smirked. A smirk that fell when she continued, "And you, too, Sync!"

He scowled, and felt an undying urge to knock her around some.

But then he remembered Van's plan. With his scowling face, he sent a warning glare to Dist. Though he could not see his eyes, he seemed to understand the gesture; Arietta did not. She merely looked on in confusion—and perhaps fear, too!—as Dist and his chair made their way out of the dining room.

She no longer pressed the idea of him being a child.

It was, he guessed, because although he was the youngest of the God-Generals, he was also arguably the strongest. His Daathic fonic artes certainly put a damper on the abilities of the others, and he could say that with confidence. Perhaps that made him arrogant, but it was the cold, hard truth.

However, he had no idea whether or not he was stronger than the Commandant; he'd never fought him.

"Arietta," he spoke suddenly, grabbing the girl's attention. She sat wide-eyed, something akin to fear mixed in with curiosity—he could see it even from over here. While he continued, he stood and started to walk around the table so he might stand before Arietta, "Would you like to know a secret?"

She seemed surprised, but managed to nod. She looked as if she might jump up at any time and run for it, judging by the way she was looking at him. He didn't continue until he was right in front of her, either, "Good, because I'm going to tell you one."

"The Fon Master you have been chasing is an imposter."

Her eyes widened.

"Wh-what!" she exclaimed, dropping her doll from the sudden shock of being told this. "Y-you're lying!"

It was difficult to keep himself from smirking; he barely managed to keep his mouth drawn in neutral, serious line. He had only barely initiated this mission and already he disliked it. He still had to treat her nicely—somewhat nicely—and that meant he couldn't smirk or laugh or make jabs at her or her precious Fon Master.

"I'm not."

Obviously, she didn't know what to think. Was he serious? Was he lying? Or perhaps he was playing a cruel, sick joke on her because he thought it was funny? Sync wanted to laugh. It was a mystery indeed!

"Th-then…" she paused, looking like she were about to cry. "Where's the real Ion?"

He didn't answer.

"You know, don't you? Why… why won't you tell—" She stopped. Sometime in the period she'd been yelling at him, his hand had come to his mask and moved it away from his face, revealing the familiar face of none other than her precious Ion. Nothing happened for a moment, but when it finally passed, she started to cry; she flung herself at him and he made no move to stop her as she wrapped her tiny little arms around the one she thought was her precious Ion.

And she cried out the name-Ion-despairingly, yet with all the affectionate in the world.

He cringed.

A/N: So, that's it! Tell me what you guys thought, if I fucked something up... It's probably obvious that I didn't edit this too much, so if you see something, feel free to point it out to me. Honestly, I'll appreciate it.