Disclaimer: I do not own Noblesse. The Story in the Characters belongs to Son Je Ho and Lee Gwang Su.

Summary: Frankenstein had many things he repented in life but this one tore him up inside. This is a AU One Shot.

Notes: After eternally long time I am back! But my exams are over (my life is still hectic) and I have now (a little) more time and head to write. I will soon post more chapter from my other story but right now, please enjoy this short Frankenstein story. Have fun^^

As always a big thank to Pandora-Twist for the correction and the support!

And another big thank goes to o-c-o-c for the Fanart! ( .com)

Ten minutes and thirty four seconds to midnight. His eyes followed the second hand of his wrist watch. Slowly he pulled the sleeve of his heavy jacket down again. This far in the north, even in spring, people wore thick clothing to protect themselves from the cold. Not that he needed it, his modification was far too advanced, but it could raise unnecessary questions if he appeared to be clothed too lightly.

At this time, only a few people were on the road. Nevertheless, he greeted all those who came to meet him as he walked across the snow and ice covered cobblestones of the street. The men with a polite nod, the women with a charming smile. Only with the children, it was still hard for him. Today the sight was especially stifling. It was another day when the memories rose from the depths of his being, and plagued him.

He stopped for a moment, and looked at his reflection in the window of one of the countless, now closed, street shops. A pair of tired, blue eyes returned his gaze and he noticed that his pupils were thinner than usual for a human being.

He was relieved that Muzaka had appeared a few days ago, and taken his Master on one of his journeys. Now, his thoughts would not burden Master, who himself was suffering enough under the memories without having to sympathize with his faithful Servant. Dark Spear responded to his emotions and gnawed at the edge of his mind.

As a rule, he accompanied Master on these kinds of journeys, which had developed as a kind of solid tradition from Muzaka. Just to make sure Master was not missing anything. But recently, severe flu epidemic had broken out in the city and the surrounding area where his Master and he were living. As a doctor, he could not possibly neglect his duties, despite the fact that the disease was gradually weakening. So, with a sharp rebuke to Muzuka to take good care of his Master he let them leave.

Even then his mood had been bad, and his tone was probably sharper than necessary, for Muzaka had only grunted tirelessly without trying to provoke him as he would have otherwise. Muzaka bore no responsibility for his mood. However, he could never suppress the memory of a certain person when he saw the werewolf, and there were days when he did not know if he should be happy about Muzakas visits.

With a heavy sigh, Frankenstein rubbed his hair back and looked up at the sky. They actually led a good life, a peaceful life. In a few decades, he could begin to build Ye Ran as he remembered it, and his Master could meet the children a little later. The children from Lukedonia would also join in.

But the trio of modified people will not...

He clenched his teeth tightly and suppressed the burning feelings of guilt, and hopelessness that plagued him with this thought. His Master should not be burdened by it...

How long had it been? He had to laugh, because this thought alone was illogical. Because in the real sense it had never happened, and only the images in his memory were true witness for something that had been or could have been!

Those stupid children. His foolish children, had used a power they could never understand. The consequences they could never correctly grasp! And if he had only take better care in his future, they would be still alive. No. Then they would still exist now.

He cut into his own flesh, so firmly his hand was clenched into fist, and almost automatically, steered his steps out of the city to avoid becoming dangerous to anyone. He remembered the moment he had woken up in his old lab. Screaming and clutching his head, trying to stop someone from doing something unbelievably stupid. His head swarming with the pictures of a life so incomprehensible that it could only be the product of a confused dream. And for a long time he was not sure what to make of it until he met his Master, exactly how the unreal dream had prophesied.

A glance into his eyes had been sufficient, and the contract between them was forged even before he entered Lukedonia for the first time. It was then that he had accepted that his dream was not a dream, but memories of another life in another future. Memories that he shared with his Master, and Muzaka, who had sought him at the request of his Master. Because three living beings of three different species sharing the same dream was somehow less likely than the alternative.

A fact that brought the bitter loss again to his mind. M-21, Tao and Takeo... they had given them a new future that they could guide with their memories. They paid a terrible price for that. No matter how peaceful this future would be, none of them would ever know.

The tool which the ancestors of Nobles and Werewolves had created, so old that no one could remember for what purpose... An unbelievable power, whose use seemed to be tied to hundreds of operations he himself did not fully understand. It had taken their existence as a prize for this new future. As if fictitious characters were deleted from a story…

And all that remained was the memory of it... and the knowledge that he could have stopped them. They were his kids. He had taken them under his care. He had been responsible for them, and he should never have allowed them to take such an action. As if it wasn't enough that his research had made it possible for the Union to torture these children on the first place. The peaceful life they earned was also torn through his fault.

Now it was too late. Much, much too late, and on days like this, when the memory of the events troubled him greatly, he could only curse their names, and thank them at the same time. He would spend the rest of his life trying to make sure their sacrifice was not in vain. It was the least he could do.

Frankenstein was at the river now, and looked down at the surface of the slowly flowing water. There were scattered ruins around him. Remnants of a flooding years ago where it was not worthwhile to rebuild the dilapidated houses. So the people had left the village to its fate, and everywhere the eye could see, the nature was about to conquer their property. His agitated emotions slowly receded as he watched the water, but the loss and a deep melancholy remained.

Alone he stood on the riverbank until a few hours before sunrise. It begun to snow. Not unusual for spring this far north. Frankenstein looked at the thick flakes as they descended. Did he ponder again all night? His Master would not like this if he came to know. A fond smile crept over his lips. Cadis Etrama Di Raizel blamed himself just like Frankenstein, but he was convinced that Trio had acted on their own will and knowledge, and they did not doubt their decision.

Frankenstein shook his head and turned around. After all, patients would be waiting for him again. Just when he was about to leave he felt it. Someones eyes on him.

He wrinkled his brow and looked through the darkness toward the ruins. The presence was ... strange. It was not a human, but it reminded him of one. So a modified human? This was more than unusual, the Union certainly had other problems than to pursue him, and how could they have found him here? In addition, the aura...

He walked slowly towards the ruins and saw a small shadow scurrying between two houses. An animal? No, that looked more like a child. Anger stirred inside Frankenstein. Had the Union or someone else been experimenting with people around here without his knowledge?

He turned round the corner. In the midst of broken stones, wood trunks and other trash, a wooden barrel laid on the ground, half overtaken by weed. He could hear quick breaths and knelt down to check, but the weed prevented a direct look into the barrel.

"It's all right" Frankenstein could hear the person holding in breath in fright, "You can come out. I will not hurt you" he said reassuringly. Finally, a pair of eyes looked out of the barrel. It was probably just imagination or wishful thinking that stirred the memory of a particular person within him, but the eyes that met him were bright, light gray.

"Come out," He repeated in a husky voice, trying to keep his emotions under control.

The child hesitated, Frankenstein could hear the writhing back and forth in the barrel. Then, very slowly, a little head poked out of the barrel hesitantly and sensing no danger crawled the rest of the way out. It was a boy. Maybe four or five years old, accompanied in rags, thin and incredibly filthy. The lips and fingers were already blue by the cold, but that was not what shocked Frankenstein the most. It was the short gray hair, and the thinly compressed mouth with the characteristic scar on the right side. It was the stubborn look in the well known gray eyes took his breath away.

He trembled and squeezed his eyes for a moment. The shock was too great for him to conceal. This child looked like M-21. The thought was absolutely ridiculous! M-21 was dead. His existence extinguished, there was no possibility that he could exist in this present. Frankenstein struggled with self-control, forced a gentle smile on his lips, and raised the first question that came to him in this situation.

"What are you doing out here, boy?"

The child did not answer. Instead, his face showed the dark, thoughtful expression that Frankenstein remembered all too well. The child titled his head aside, and studied him. His expressions changed back and forth between thoughtfulness, confusion, and uncertainty. A painful weight swelled in his chest.

"What are you doing out here?" Frankenstein tried again. "Where are you from, and what is your name?"

The boy seemed more insecure with each question, and Frankenstein noticed that he was trembling with cold. Mentally scolding himself for overlooking it, Frankenstein took off his jacket. But just as he was about to put the jacket around the boy, he opened his mouth.

"Fra… Franken….stein?" The boy gnawed his lower lip uncertainly, his eyes twitching nervously as he waited for his reaction.

"How ..." Frankenstein froze in his movement, his coat dangling in his hand. What was that? He swallowed, and took a deep breath. "How do you know this name?"

"I ..." uncertainty and confusion was showing again in the boys eyes, "I don't know"

"Where are you from?"

"I don't know"

"What is your name?"

He looked down as the child raised his arm and stared at his wrist as if something was supposed to be written there. But the wrist was empty. The gesture alone made Frankensteins heart take a small leap. The boy opened and closed his mouth. He rubbed his skin with his thumb, and his insecurity increased even more. "I don't know," he replied again, his voice sounding frightened, the gray eyes looked up at him imploringly, "Frankenstein?"

The man wrapped his winter coat around the lean body and lifted the boy to his chest. The child was still trembling and immediately clapped his pale fingers into his shirt as if to make sure that Frankenstein will not drop him, again. The aura, the appearance, the behavior. Everything was same, but this should be was impossible. Just as he had resigned himself to the fate that he would never see his children again, one appeared before him. In a shape he had never thought possible. The parallels were too great to be coincidence.

"All right," muttered the blond man, as he pulled the overcoat slightly higher to shield the boy from the cold. "Everything will be fine," he promised the child nestled against him and gently rested his head on his shoulder.

This time he would make sure his son had a safer future.