Disclaimer: I don't own 'Karneval'. 'Ryo' belongs to me.

The events referred to in this oneshot are non-canon and are a part of the history created by me for Ryo. She is a Circus member of the Second Ship, under Hirato. She used to work with her brother as partners until his accidental death during an assignment/mission. As you'll discover, she blames herself for his death and suffers because of it.

Unfair

Her skin had become an uncomfortable, foreign thing to her.

It was beaded with sweat, stretched tight over her bones. Ryo was amazed she was able to move at all as her every step shook. Her fingers brushed the cotton of her dress, seeking something substantial – something real.

It was not enough to pull her from the dream, the memories that came in abstract ways to torture her. With that in mind, Ryo continued walking. She wouldn't stop, not until she had what she wanted. It might seem a little thing to some people, but Ryo's nightmares were nothing of the regular kind. Hers were the kind that returned, an ominous and abstract conception of the truth, and it confronted her with the stark reality.

Ryo lived in a hopeless world.

It was not the approaching footsteps, nor her own name, with managed to eventually rouse her. None of that had ever worked, though there was a way and it was embodied in a single person whose value to her was beyond compare – Hirato.

"Ryo, you shouldn't be out of bed this late."

Her eyes were a distant hazel colour, and they drifted to Hirato slowly. "Neither should you."

The man approached her with the same casual leisure as always. Though he was still dressed for the day, it was indeed late at night. Ryo's reply was not without point.

"Come with me and I'll take you back to your room." He sighed.

With some hesitancy, or at least an awareness of her delicacy, Hirato lifted his hand to her face. The loose curls of her hair, brown streaked with highlights, brushed against his fingers while his palm grew damp with the tears clinging to her skin. Ryo was shaking still, meaning she had yet to fully waken.

"Ryo," he continued, smiling softly, "You're crying."

She felt her eyes go wide. She hadn't realised it; but by placing her fingertips to her cheek she discovered the answer.

"I am." She breathed.

"You had that dream again." It was not a question, but a statement.

Ryo didn't react unless it was in that she did nothing at all. Her jaw softened and the corners of her lips fell. Her entire aura changed, relieving Hirato greatly. When she entered that dazed state of hers, she was unreachable to all, and it went against his policy to kiss her then. Not that he would kiss her when she was this emotional, nor in any situation where she couldn't consent – there was no fun in that.

All of this was, of course, only if Hirato wanted to kiss her. He knew what he shouldn't do.

"Hirato," as she spoke his name, her frown eased into a smile, "I don't want to sleep."

"It's inevitable. You need it to live."

"It doesn't change that I don't want to."

Hirato refused to argue with her any further. "Come on, Ryo." He offered her his arm, and she took it.

"Are we going to my room?"

"Yes."

"Will you stay with me?"

He hesitated. "No."

Ryo's smile persisted. Her hooded eyes lingered on Hirato a moment longer, as if she were looking right through him. It was so hard to lie to her these days. Partly because of her natural intuition, which had earned her fame as a Circus agent, but it was also due to Hirato's own inner conflict. He missed the days were everything was simpler.

"What if I cried? Would you stay then?" she persisted.

"Not even then."

"You're so cruel, Hira-chan," she sighed, "I thought you liked sleeping in the same bed as me."

"I would if I slept. You're very distracting, Ryo." He pointed out.

Even now, she managed it. Her loose nightgown, however plain, hung low around her chest and emphasised her figure greatly. Hirato couldn't help but look when she made it so easy and he stood over her.

"I don't mean to be." Ryo replied, though she did.

"It wasn't a suggestion to change anything." He added.

Ryo walked just a little closer, her head bumping against his shoulder. Her mind had yet to turn away from the topic, for it was her own distraction. "Hirato, what if I stayed in your room?"

"Would it help?" he wondered.

"If you were there. So long as you were there."

"Then I doubt it would do much good. I have things to do tonight, though you are welcome to if you find it necessary."

"My rooms are comfortable enough then."

"Good." Hirato turned the corner and guided them to a stop.

Ryo tightened her grip on his arm, looking at him instead of the open door. Her room lay beyond, but she refused to enter without him. Hirato spent a good moment staring at her, observing her with quiet amusement. She implored with her eyes, green more prominent in the light, but at last pressed her forehead to his arm. She was a kind person, but still remained every bit as manipulative as Hirato himself.

"You're not a child." He chastised gently, but he was already giving in and walking her forward.

"I'm twenty six." She replied, matter-of-fact.

"Though you still want me to tuck you in."

"I want you stay." amended Ryo.

Hirato left her side to shut the door behind them. As he did, Ryo spun in a circle to observe her surroundings. The room was luxurious, with a double bed, couch, and necessary shelving. On the table beside her bed sat a bottle of medicine and roll of spare bandages. Her mood immediately soured.

Footsteps echoed in the silence, and very soon a pair of hands rested on her shoulders. Hirato urged her forward, guiding her towards the bed where she sat on the edge. Her ankles were crossed, expression expectant as Hirato stood above her.

His hand strayed to her shoulder, where underneath the sleeve a mass of scar tissue grew.

"You should have this bandaged while it heals." He commented.

"I don't like the bandages, they squash my chest and it hurts."

"Because it hasn't healed yet."

"Don't worry so much, Hira-chan. Sit down, at least."

He eyed her sceptically, violet eyes dark in the lack of light. It wasn't until she lifted her legs under the sheets that he took her up on the suggestion. His weight sunk the mattress, but Ryo didn't mind.

"You don't worry enough." He told her coolly.

Ryo shrugged and smiled airily. "What is there to worry about? So long as you love me."

Hirato ignored her words as he often did. When she knew it so certainly, he didn't have to say it explicitly. He needed only act, and this time it was by pulling the sheets up to her waist. When Hirato's hands, less than accidently, brushed against her hips, they leaned towards each other.

He remained poised above her, watching her with that persistently slight smile. She had grown familiar with this typical look, and Ryo wouldn't be deterred by anything he could think say. Before anything else, he heard her breathe in before their lips met. Neither moved their hands, fearing to disturb the kiss before its time – it lasted for as long as they could go without breathing.

"I have to go." He reminded her.

Ryo sat forward, letting her head fall onto his shoulder and her arms around his waist. "No."

"Persuade me, then. Talk to me about your dream."

Her fingers shook just in the slightest, something he noticed. "…Okay."

Hirato's fingers combed through her hair, suddenly thoughtful. "You can't avoid what happened forever. Nothing will change, Ryo, if you keep this up."

"But I'm not," she whispered, "I can't avoid it. I see him every night."

"Why do you think that is?"

"Because it's my fault. That entire night was a mistake made by me."

It was instinctive to soothe her, to wrap his arms around her. "It is the nature of us to die." It was no comfort, but the best he could offer as explanation.

"Shiro didn't have to then, though," she objected, "I should have died instead."

"Ryo, you forget," Hirato hated her words and his tone betrayed this, "it is also in our nature to live. Your brother-"

"My brother, and your friend," Ryo pulled away, feeling the need to speak clearly, "How do you just not care? I want…"

"You don't want that, and you know I do care. If I didn't, I wouldn't be able to love you." He pointed out.

Ryo felt her shoulders drop, a little embarrassed. It was strange that she existed the way she did, in an infinite blackhole she felt hopeless against, yet she could be so happy at his roundabout declaration. She had been beginning to doubt if Hirato knew how to pronounce the word - proof otherwise could not have come at a better time.

He drew back one hand and forced her to look at him. "Losing someone is not the same as having them die. Shiro is dead, and I am alive. It is that simple, Ryo. If you are alive, then you should live."

"How do you know if I'm alive?" she replied softly, "What if I'm dreaming?"

Hirato leaned across and pressed a kiss to her forehead, where he knew she was sensitive and sure to blush. "If you're dreaming, then go back to sleep."

"Not without you."

They were coming full circle again. "Ryo," Hirato had barely just begun before he was cut off.

"If I sleep, then I won't be here with you. You can't expect me to live then, can you?"

A strange feeling welled within him. Hirato was quick to suppress it, and though no laughter escaped him his smile grew wider. For once, it was Ryo who remained smile-less.

"You'll live whether I'm here or not." He replied jovially.

"I feel like you don't appreciate my affections."

"Not at all. They are the highlight of my days, and I couldn't live without them."

"…you're teasing me, aren't you?"

At Ryo's disgruntled pout, her slight frown, Hirato couldn't help but smile teasingly. "You're very cute, Ryo-chan." It was hard to tell, but he meant it.

Her expression eased though her hazel eyes were perpetually soft. In a second, he had leant forward and pressed a kiss to her jaw. Ryo moved forward to make it easier, and Hirato obliged. His lips led a trail down her neck, leaving her skin to tingle as he moved on. He knew when he found her sweet spots for her fingers in his hair would tighten.

There came a point where he reached her shoulder, and he decided to test her. Though he was gentle, Hirato didn't hesitate to kiss her scars. Ryo immediately stiffened.

"Hirato, don't."

He pulled away, expression calm and calculating. "If it still hurts, it hasn't healed."

"It will always hurt." She decided.

Hirato was almost compelled to roll his eyes. "You're being dramatic again, Ryo."

"Am I?" she replied, her voice growing distant once more, "Ah, I suppose you would say that. You don't seem to think that it was me who killed Shiro…my own brother."

His glasses caught the moonlight ominously. "It was a Varuga."

"But it was my mistake that cost us."

"You shouldn't think so complexly about it or you risk overthinking the situation," Hirato replied, "You're smart, Ryo-chan. You have always been a logical person, but you always like to pretend everything is all your fault."

She blinked, suddenly curious. "So you're saying that I'm selfish?"

"In a way, yes. You don't always show it, but it exists as a part of your character. I would never say it's a bad thing."

"That's because you're selfish as well."

He smiled agreeably but refrained from commenting. Hirato moved on to explain, "Shiro's death is not about you, had nothing to do with you. He died and it was of his own volition."

She tilted her head and appeared to consider his words. The look lasted for almost a minute, in which silence was prevalent. It ended with a quiet huff, before Ryo let herself fall backwards onto the bed.

"I want you to stay."

So it ended. Ryo had returned to her childish antics, and was now refusing to continue speaking on the matter. At least her want of a distraction meant she had come up against something which she had no retort for, something she had never considered and now would – it was progress, and it was, for now, enough to satisfy Hirato.

"You know my opinion on the matter." He reminded her.

She closed her eyes slowly. Hirato observed her in that time, the blue skin around her eyes so different from that of her hand, and the veins that showed through the thinness of her eyelids. Because her cheeks grew red, he knew she was still awake.

"Kiss me again, before you go." She pleaded a moment later.

By doing this, she hoped to entice him to stay. Ryo wasn't so tired as to find her mind failing her, and she wasn't so dumb as to have not realised his weaknesses. If she had to, she would kiss him all night so that he stayed.

"Just one." promised Hirato.

Ryo smiled, noticeably smug. Her eyes remained closed, waiting in the dark for the reassuring pressure and warmth that was well known to her. His hand combed away some of her hair, along her forehead, right before he kissed her.

Ryo's eyes flew open.

"Hirato!"

He was smiling, just a little wider than normal. He made no remark upon his behaviour, simply standing and beginning to walk away.

"Hirato, that's not fair!"

"What's not?" he paused by the door to look back at her.

She was cross, but not so much as she wanted to be. He made it oh-so hard.

"You kissed my forehead." She whined.

"One kiss was all I promised, Ryo."

Next thing she knew, he was out the door. She stared at the empty room a moment longer, having jolted upright simply to watch him go. His foot was last out the door, which clicked shut and left her silence – alone except for a promise.

There was a quiet acceptance as Ryo settled into her bed. She could welcome sleep, her abstract dreams that blurred the lines between what was real and what was not, with a little more ease this time. There was only a little time before sleep claimed her once more, but it was enough to say one more thing.

Her skin felt lighter with the memory he left behind, and she mumbled happily, "So unfair."

Finally finished. I hope Hirato's character is in character - he's one of more trickier characters to write. I love this series so much and the characters are so interesting (I might even right more oneshots?).

Thank you for reading, for glancing, and extra love to those who favourite and review!