The. End.
A festival in a small countryside in Eurasia is where our story takes place. Well, it may not count much as a story... It is more accurate to call it the epilogue of a tragic story. The time is an alternate end of the nineteenth century -
Colorful balloons float high into the sky over the lively brick town. It is a small town, with tiled rooftops and cobblestone streets. The townsfolk are gathered in outskirts of the first district, where a great yellow tent has been set up. Triangular flags decorate the area, and tinier stands, selling foods and souvenirs and other goods, are lined up in two rows facing each other. The townsfolk are all traveling from stand to stand, enjoying the smaller entertainments as they await for the main show to begin.
The circus hosting this festival is determined to fill up the tent with all the people in the vicinity. There are still more tickets to sell, more people they want to awe. The clowns are busy juggling, encouraging young children to bribe their parents into buying tickets for the show. It always worked, of course.
Two young from China were standing side by side as they watched a young clown juggle countless items, catching them perfectly, then expertly tossing them back into the air. One of the travelers, a young woman with short, beautiful hair, took her companion's hand, and the two of them moved on. The second traveler, a man slightly older then his companion, smiled down at his sister affectionately. He'd never imagined that a day as peaceful as this would come, a day when he and his sister could walk through a festival without the worry of death lurking behind them.
"Noodles, either of you?" asked a voice, and a tray of familiar looking food suddenly appeared under the siblings' noses. A child, looking to be no older than thirteen or fourteen, smiled up at them through his long bangs. He was wearing an outfit that was eerily familiar to them.
"Don't be rude, Taro," a deeper voice scolded the boy, and a man of around twenty years of age walked up to them. His long black hair, tied back in a low ponytail had a bluish sheen in the bright sun. His dark eyes were piercing as they landed on the siblings. "My apologies. Taro, you mustn't shove things in people's faces-"
"No, it's quite all right," the older of the Chinese siblings said with a chuckle. Taking a bowl of noodles off Taro's tray, he politely thanked the boy and tasted the food: delicious. "My! These are quite tasty! Here, try some, Lenalee!"
The sister took the offered food. Swallowing the noodles, she smiled and said, "They're very good! Did you cook it yourself?"
"Not I," Taro shook his head. "Master Ooki did."
The long haired man put his hand on the young boy's shoulder. "Come, Taro. You should help the mistress make more soup."
"Have a nice day, travelers!" Taro called as they disappeared into the shop. "Hey, Kanda! Quit pushing me!"
At the last moment, the Japanese man glanced over his shoulder and met eyes with the two Chinese siblings. The three of them felt, for a moment, everything slow down, and then, the magic was broken. The man was gone.
"Let's go, Komui."
And the siblings continued on their way.
The festival was like something out of a fairytale for the siblings, who'd never experienced anything like this. The carefree atmosphere of the day almost felt alien to them as they passed by a tall man and a woman sharing a cotton candy. The man's long cloak brushed against Lenalee's hand, and the woman's dark eyes chanced a glance their way before the couple walked away.
"Ah, Miranda, let us go take a look at that man with the lion!" the man exclaimed enthusiastically.
"Oh, yes, let's go take a look, Krory..." the woman replied, before her voice was swallowed by the cheering crowd and the loud roar of a great beast.
Smiling, the siblings walked into a small shop selling handmade jewelry, just as a couple of men walked out, one with a shock of bright red hair, happily looking at a chic bracelet with a silver crucifix, and an elderly man whose eyes were outlined thickly with make-up, who was merely following his younger companion with an exasperated look.
"You can find better ones, you know that, do you not, Noel?" the old man sighed.
"Hey, it was cheap, old man," Noel answered. "And it looks cool. So unlike my name. The last one was better- you know, Lavi."
"That is just a piece of your past now, so you'd better move on."
"I know, I know," Noel rolled his eyes. "Old man, let's go buy some tickets!"
"From whom?"
"That clown!" Noel pointed, and scampered over to the entertainer with a cheerful laugh.
"I still don't get why I chose you as my heir!" the old man snapped after Noel.
"May I help you, my dear men?" asked masked clown from his one-foot perch on a large red ball. In his left hand was a bunch of balloons, while a marionette hung from the fingers on his left hand. He had balanced a basket of tickets on his head, and a bucket of coins sat on his raised foot.
"Two tickets, please," Noel said, dropping his money into the bucket.
"Thank you!" sang the clown, bending down and allowing Noel to take two slips. "Enjoy your day!"
"Yeah, you too," Noel replied. As the clown straightened again, he noticed the flash of white hair falling out of under the clown's hat. However, the jester's voice sounded very young.
With a shrug, Noel shook the thought out of his head and walked away. He almost collided with a Bunny Girl that ran up to the clown, and he and his master left the area, heading for the yellow tent.
"Allen!" the Bunny said to the clown happily. "I think that's all the tickets – when will we start?"
"Maybe in an hour, after I give out all the balloons," was the jester's reply. "We'll definitely make this the best show we've done in all of our time together..."
- - - -
That very night, under the moon around a great bonfire, the traveling entertainers, shopkeepers, and the spectators were gathered. There were several clowns playing with younger children while the older people warmed up against the night air by the fire. Sitting by himself, at a distance from the others, was a white haired youth in a black coat. Beside him, neatly folded, was his clown outfit and tools (which included various sized balls and balloons as well as throwing knives). Although the boy had distanced himself from the others on purpose, he spoke with a welcoming tone to the young man that approached him.
"You're the person who bought the tickets from me earlier," Allen Walker said to the redhead. "Did you enjoy the show?"
"You looked great," Noel replied, plopping down beside his long-lost comrade.
"How long can we talk?"
"Until the old man finds me. This might be the last time..."
"...What's your name now?"
"It's Noel. Not exciting at all."
Allen chuckled. "You haven't changed at all, have you?" he asked.
"You wouldn't want it to, would it? Oh, I see Mr. Noodles coming this way now."
"Kanda's here?"
"Of course he is," Noel laughed. "Everyone is."
Disclaimers: All characters from D.Gray-Man belongs to Hoshino Katsura.
(A/N: I forgot to write this when I first posted this story. This is a one-shot. Sorry for the confusion there.)