A/N: Here is the next chapter of Red Ink, I will be aiming to update this story in the very least on a weekly basis. Possibly more chapters will be posted depending on my schedule.

Now for the disclaimer, I own nothing but the story itself.

The journey home hadn't been all too eventful, besides a number of missed calls and worried voice-mail messages from Elizaveta, nobody had yet tried to stop me. I fumbled with my keys somewhat, taking some time to hold my hands steady to unlock the front door. To think they would still be shaking after almost an hour's walk back home.

Pushing the door open, I simply dropped the set of keys into the small ball bowl situated on a desk nearby the door. Ludwig had insisted that everything should have an assigned place, from everything to cutlery to keys. He had insisted on rearranging my house into order the day after Gilbert's disappearance, probably as a way to distract himself from the unexpected news. I must admit that Ludwig had done a rather good job, probably one of the better habits of Gilbert's that he had picked up on in his childhood. Who would have thought that a loud, egotistic idiot could secretly harbor that type of trait within him?

"There is no use thinking about that now…"

I muttered to myself, running a hand through my now messed hair and exhaled heavily. It was true. Gilbert wouldn't be around to pester me again, honestly, I would have thought that not having to deal with that ever again would relief me. If anything, it only made me feel worse. Not having a man walk by to smudge my glasses then run off cackling to himself would be less of a bother, but I suppose it would have been rather amusing to him.

Walking by the kitchen, I eyed a stack of papers and cringed slightly. Paperwork certainly wasn't a hobby of mine, but this was bound to be investigative paperwork and such sent from the police. Elizaveta must have left them there this morning after Ludwig and I left her here to prepare for the funeral after the first police interview had ended. Honestly the last thing that I had felt like going through at the moment. Walking straight past the pile, I made my way towards the refrigerator, taking out a slice of cake and took a spoon from the drawer. Seating myself at the table, I pulled the papers towards me and read over the first couple of paragraphs. It consisted of little more than biographical details of Gilbert. It was odd, how we seemed to blend in with the rest of society without too much complication. Naturally, we had become rather good at it after hundreds of years practicing such.

"Name, Gilbert Beilschmidt. Date of birth, fourteenth of January, 1989. Date of death, twenty-third of April, 2013... Well, the name and date of death are correct."

I muttered once again, before eating a small spoonful of cake. It honestly hadn't tasted all too sweet. Was it just a different recipe, or was I really that badly affected by the funeral? Shaking my head lightly, I continued reading down the page. It wasn't anything that I hadn't already known, if anything, there was much less than what I knew. Wait… That was something that I hadn't known.

"Mister Beilschmidt was last seen departing the Sibirjak from Berlin at Moscow, records conformed to the dates from which he had last been seen departing the train station."

I read over that particular line a number of times, letting it sink it. Wait… Why would Gilbert be travelling to Russia of all of the countries to visit? I was certain that he had sworn never to set a foot in Russia after certain events, Gilbert hated Ivan Braginski more than I have ever seen a man hate another. Besides that line, it hadn't given any further insight into the reason for his death or even his reasoning for the unannounced trip to Moscow.

"It appears I will have to do some research of my own after all…"

I stood up from the table, leaving table as it was, including the papers scatted around and the half-eaten slice of cake. Taking a brown coat hung upon one of the hooks Ludwig had installed as a part of his 'Project: Remodel Roderich's House', I took the set of house keys once again and left once again. Possibly some of the attendants of the funeral may still be there and will be able to offer me some insight into my questions.