A/N: This fic is loosely based on the Daughter of Evil, Plateau No Hana, Daughter of White, Servant of Evil and the fanmades Daughter of Green, Prince of Blue and Daughter of Revenge. I have never read the novels, just the Wikia (which is really, really confusing), I get most info all from the PVs and the other videos (including the fanmade ones) so pardon me if I change a lot of things, including the history and timeline. But then, this is fanfiction so I guess you've already expected it. Beware: additional characters, major story and plot change, confusing storytelling, time skips, flashbacks and Miku being a bit like Fantine. Len dies (again). Not much of our beloved twins. Proceed at your own risk. Not yet finished.

Cast (you know… just so you know how they looked like without much descriptions. I'm actually not sure who's gonna appear and who isn't.):

· Michaela – Miku Hatsune

· Per/Perine – Piko Utatane

· Yoshirou– YOHIOloid

· Alfher Lucifen – Oliver

· Allen Avadonia (formerly Prince Alexei Lucifen d'Autriche) – Len Kagamine

· Germaine Avadonia – MEIKO

· Princess Rilian Lucifen d'Autriche – Rin Kagamine

· Clarith – Haku Yowane

· King Kyle Marlon – KAITO

· Yukina Freezis – Yuki Kaai

· Keel Freezis – Kiyoteru Hiyama

· Mikina Freezis – SF-A2 Miki

· Deniel Honoré – Dell Honne

· Queen Ann– Sweet Ann

A/N#2: If you've noticed new characters have French names(except Ollie(Alfher)'s which is ancient Germanic). That's because I read somewhere that Daughter of Evil was loosely based on the French revolution and I was like: why not put that in.

A/N#3: There will be two surprise characters by the end of this story… One, the child of two characters up there. Lol. And another...

He looked at the crowd briefly, but that was all it took. His sister, Rilian, was there, and she was safe now, she was safe. However, his eyes widened at the sight of a woman dressed in black, holding a boy in one hand. The boy was wearing a hood, but he could unmistakably see a glimmer of silver hair. The woman was wearing a veil, hiding anything that could give any telltale sign on who she really was. She almost looked like death herself. Was she mad at him? Angry? Was she here to see how he died for satisfaction?

No.

She wasn't like that.

What she'd said, before he tried to kill her, was, "Close your eyes then," she mumbled then, patting his cheek. "If you don't want to watch me die."

But he can't kill her. So he doesn't.

He wonders, if she'll close her eyes as the blade comes snapping down. He wonders if at next life, all of them would be able to meet again. And also, if, by any chance, in that life, he'd have a happy ending.

She clasped the little boy close to her. "Are you okay?"

They were both panting, both trembling.

"W-we… We just… That man…"

"Shhh," Michaela hugged the boy even tighter.

As the nervousness disappeared, the boy looked up at her. "I'm sorry, Mama. He was trying to hurt you. I didn't know… I just… You were… I wanted to save you. I didn't want to see you get hurt. You're precious to me. 'Portant. Precious and 'portant. You're my treasure. And I just found you. And now you saw how horrid I am. I'm sorry Ma. I'm sorry. I really am."

Trembling hands caressed the white haired boy's face. Could it really be him? He called her mama. She felt something when she first saw him at the streets awhile ago, but she hadn't wanted to base anything on instinct for fear she would be wrong. "W-what is your name?"

He looked up, wide eyed, while taking a deep breath. He grinned sheepishly, albeit shakily. "They called me a name, them couple you gave me to. But that's not my name, ain't it? I was hoping you're the one to tell me that."

She smiled at him.

"Per," and she says it with so much emotion, wrought with tears and smiles. "My son."

Clarith gasped at the sight of a bloodied Michaela with a white haired child in tow, also wearing bloodied clothes in his white clothing. She recognized the boy as someone at the streets earlier in the morning. They were doing chores then, both her and Michaela, with Michaela humming a tune foreign to her.

"What happened?" she asked Michaela after she tucked the little white boy to sleep. Clarith looked at her best and only friend, looking for an explanation. Who was the child? Why did they come home bloodied? What had happened exactly?

"I doubt you'd ever forgive me, Clarith, that I kept things from you. But…" Michaela then tells the story of a girl, forced to prostitution at a young age. One of those exploits bore her a child, a tiny little boy, who she left at someone's doorstep for who would ever want such a woman as a mom?

She took it all in calmly. It was a horrid truth, for Michaela to keep it for so long, and from her. She realized now why this girl was kind as she was pretty: for she had experienced unspeakable things, gone through so much.

And then Michaela tells of what happened this night: of how a man from her past threatened her, that he'd tell the world about her secret if she doesn't give him money.

"Per was there," Michaela gazed down at the white haired child sleeping. "And he saved me, Clarith. He put up such a fight, and that man was huge. The man… he fell in the empty well…" She looked at her bestfriend. "We just found each other again, and then this happen. We might get separated again. I don't want that, Clarith."

Clarith, who had been quiet up to this point, looked at mother and child. It's queer, funny, really. That Michaela's child was an albino, like her. Maybe that was the reason she was so nice to her, because she reminded her of him. "We could leave," she suggested. She had always wanted to leave, anyway. Try living a life where she wasn't judged because she had not green hair.

"That's what I was thinking, leaving—wait, 'We'? You're coming?"

"Of course."

"But you said… you said you loved this place. That this was home."

"That was when Mother was still alive, when brother was still here," she took her friend's hand in hers. "Now you're the only reason I'm here, and if you're leaving, I'm going with you."

"Clarith," she whispered with a smile, bright tears on her eyes. "Thank you."

He noticed her immediately because of her beautiful green hair. It was beautiful, and unique. Back at his homestead, people have brown and black and golden yellow but never has he seen one with a green hair. And though, this was the green country her hair was different. It was more vibrant, more sea green than woodland green. And then his eyes gazed down to her face, and he found her beautiful.

She was talking to a child—a peculiar albino little girl who was frowning.

"It just isn't fair! You and Clarith love her more than me!"

"Per—"

"It's true!" the girl yelled back. "It's true! It's true! It's true! It's always Yukina here, Yukina there! You don't care about me! Even though… Even though…" she growled, turned her back. "I hate you! I shouldn't have come after all if this is what would happen!"

"Hush now, hush," the green haired woman knelt, hugging the girl. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry."

The girl was adamant, trying to push the green haired lady away.

Then, he heard her singing. It started as a faint humming, and he could barely hear it for they were in a market, but it slowly grew louder, and the louder it got, the calmer the little girl got. He also noticed that some people had stopped dead in their tracks as they listened.

When the song finished, people applauded, some people whispering about how she was the songbird of the merchant Freezis.

An adorable blush colored the woman's face, as she smiled at the gathered crowd, and turned her attention back to the little girl.

The girl looked up with remorse, apparently sorry for what she'd done, but blaming herself. She said something to the woman, and let go of her, running away.

"Per! Wait!"

She tried to follow her, but with the crowd, she can't seem to do that. However, he saw the girl, for she was heading towards his way. So Allen did everything he could to block her way, but the little girl would stop at nothing, and the bag he had, containing everything he'd bought from the market fell down.

He groaned inwardly. All those were things his sister wanted, and if he comes back without them… The little girl forgotten, he leaned down, making sure he won't be trampled on as he tried to salvage a few things he could.

The next thing he knew was someone was helping him, and it was apparently the woman the girl was taking too. She really was prettier up close than when he first saw her from afar.

"I'm really sorry," and her voice was sweet. "I'm pretty sure Per didn't mean to do that." She gave him all she had gathered. "He was just… mad with me."

He blinked. "He?" Hold on. Does that mean that girl was actually a little boy?

"Ah!" she gasped. "I meant she! I definitely meant she! And her name's Perine. Perine. And she's my bestfriend's sister. Younger sister." She spewed words one after another, sputtering occasionally.

"Hey, calm down," he smiled consolingly. She was panicking. "How about we try to find her together?"

She looked around the crowd. "You would try find hi—her, with me? Are you sure? Don't you have anything else to do, sir…?"

"Sure. But I'd like to help you first."

"Thank you!" she beamed at him, and at the sight of that smile, he felt happy than he could ever imagine. He always thought love at first sight stupid, but her… he'd believe in it, if only for her.

After some time, with their search fruitless, it started raining. They stood under one of the stalls, where Michaela, for he had learned her name, was persuading him to accept a few of the goods she had in her basket as payment for what Perine had accidentally thrown off and his trying to help her find the little girl.

"It's fine, Michaela. Really." Actually, it wasn't, but to just get them from her seemed unfair. After all, they still haven't found the girl.

She sighed, but smiled again when she looked back at him, "I haven't asked your name yet, have I?"

"Come to think of it, you haven't!" he laughed, and bowed. "I'm Allen."

"I'm sorry for my horrible manners," she curtsied in turn. "Sir Allen."

And they tell of each other, or rather, she lets him talk. Of how he was adopted, of his boyish stepsister, of their misadventure with the bandits. Of how their foster father, Leon, was so mad at them for facing them. She nodded every once in a while with an amused smile at her face to indicate she was listening. He asked her why.

"It's just that… you have this look on your face… You miss those times, don't you?"

He replied with a nod. "But I miss something far before that. When I was younger, with my real sister. We used to play a lot, by the beach. Mom was always so mad at us, after. And now..." she's dead.

"Ah," she smiled, albeit sadly this time.

He was about to ask what was troubling here, but she sighed worriedly. "That child…"

"Hey, perk up, Miss Michaela."

"I just can't stop worrying!"

"She'll be fine, you know?"

"I'm sorry," she apologized with a slight bow to her head. Taking a deep breath, she met his eye, gaining a bit of courage from his words. "You're right. That child's strong." She smiled as small and sad one, and Allen wondered what wrong things he said this time.

Per sighed as he sat just outside the steps of a building. He still got his dress wet, but it's better than no roof over his head at all. He was being selfish again. He knew that his mother was doing the best she can, but pretending to be a girl all the time is taking its toll on him.

"What are you doing here, boy?"

Per blinked, and looked up. A blond man with red eyes holding up an umbrella was staring down at him. He gritted his teeth, ready to fight or take flight any time. "Waiting for the rain to stop, obviously."

The man grinned, eyebrows raised. "Is that so?"

"Wait, how did you—"

"Simple. You seem like a boy." He laughed. "I was not sure though, so I asked casually, and you fell for it. What were you doing, anyway, dressed up like that?"

The young boy bit his lip. He can't possibly tell him. He'd be putting himself and his mother in danger. And Clarith and everyone on the Freezis household.

"You don't need to tell me, if you do not want to, young man. We are all entitled to secrets, after all. Here," the man handed him a bag, and his umbrella.

"Wait what is—"

"I saw you bump into that other boy. You made his grocery fall. Then I saw your mom with him—"

"S-she isn't—" my mom. He tried to lie, but before he could even finish his sentence, the man had continued on his.

"—and she looked like she would be giving her groceries to him instead."

"But—"

"It is fine. I just so happened to know that boy. And not-your-mom seemed a like a very nice lady. I heard her singing awhile ago. Consider it a treat, or some payment. She is an amazing singer."

Per looked at the umbrella. "This—"

"Not-your-mom is probably looking for you already."

"Are you never gonna let me finish any of my sentences, old man?!" he burst out.

The man laughed. "No, because you have to be gone right now. I told you, not-your-mom is probably looking for you, and she must be worried. Do I really look that old?" He pushed back his hair. "Now go on, little miss."

Before Per could even retort again, the man had left him, walking away through the rain.

He stared at the bag, and then the umbrella. Sighing for the second time, and wondering who the man was, he opened the umbrella, stood up, and went looking for his mother.