The circus was always a wonderland for children, filled with magic and laughter, the place where the most intense happiness that will be presented to them. Dreams came true in the circus, whether young or old, they often say. For the rest of their lifetime, the most memorable place would be here, where the lights lit up both the night and the joy they have inside of them, where everyone was happy.
"There is no such thing as magic here…"
A clown, alone on the stage presented to him, bowed to the crowd in a gentleman-like fashion. Graceful movements only brought out the beauty of his costume. White, silk-lookalike, satin cloth covered nearly his entire skin, where bronze buttons adorned his costume, the colour similar to his hair colour which were tied up in a small ponytail, flowing behind him, in the wind, allowing his movements to look as if he was not constricted by anything. His snow coloured pants were loose like any clown yet it managed to allow on-lookers to realize that the wearer was still slim. His collar were ruffles, arranged in such a way that they almost looked as if his head were served on a silver platter yet not touching his ponytail. The brown contrasted the white, emphasizing the paleness he had, illusioning the watchers to almost feel that he was there yet not there, faint yet strong, just like a snowflake with rust on it. He stood up, allowing the audience to remember his face for the first time. It was not a face full of make-up they all anticipated. However a white mask covered his identity. What an unusually white clown, many thought at that moment.
"I am here to humor you, my lords…"
"The act shall start soon…"
"Sit back, relax and enjoy the show…"
The clown took three balls from thin air, before he started to juggle. The longer he juggled, the higher the balls went, the number of the balls increased as well. Yet the masked clown seem to be unfazed by it. The spheres appeared to follow a route, from the right hand to the left, never going astray from the route. Once the crowd had figured that the clown would not fail, all the balls fell onto his head, each landing with a humorous bang on the clown's head. The crowd laughed at the clown's misfortune. When the clown looked up, rubbing his head, it was not the empty mask the people had seen earlier, however it was a smiling mask they all had not seen at the beginning.
"For you, I will be your toy…"
The audience soon was entranced by the clown's antics. When the clown started to walk on balls the crowd clapped at his success. One ball followed another, rolling around the edge of the circular boundaries. Both, the young and the old, awed at the clown's skills on walking on balls. When the clown fell, the two age groups laughed at the clown sadistically. Even a child that was not a decade old can laugh at another's demise. Without realizing it, everyone had taken delight in another's suffering.
"The show must continue…"
When the mask of the clown fell, the crowd anticipated to see the identity of the clown, however it was a mask with a tongue sticking out staring back at them. Soon with a swipe of the clown's arm, the mask changed. With a turn of his head, the mask changed in that second. However, as, quick it might need to be, clown never changed his poise. It was just as graceful throughout the performance. Quick, agile and swift movements enraptured the audience. Then the clown did a dramatic hand movement. Coloured paper that was cut into pieces, all burst out from hiding, fluttering down from the top of the tent, surprising all of the audience. It was a scene benefitting to such a captivating show. With a bow, the clown stayed, face faced to the ground until the entire tent was filled with applause.
"This is the closing act…"
The clown lifted his face, showing a plain, dull, blank and white mask once again set on the clown's face, signaling the end of the act. The act felt like magic, the magic that only existed in a circus. As the crowd dispersed to the outside in a noisy manner, the clown silently went to the back of the tent.
His hand wandered over the mask, about to expose the mystery of his identity under the mask, which everyone whom had watched the show had once wondered.
"They will never know the irony…"
The mask slipped off easily, exposing, showing to the world a face of a twelve-year-old child, eyes that had seen too much of the world for his age, filled with emptiness.
"The age of the toy they had just used…"
"They had laughed at the one that will hold their fate in his hands…"
"The one named Allen Walker."
My second fanfiction!
Once again it's a one shot! If there is any grammar or spelling mistakes, do point them out.
I don't own d gray man at all, otherwise, Allen would have now went and betray the order and go his own way. =3=
PLEASE REVIEW!
