Disclaimer: I don't own Suikoden, but I own the story, please respect me enough not to copy it.

Special Note: The long line in the middle of the story means flashback. Nothing else seemed to work...


.:HARMONY and BLOODSHED:.

PART ONE
HARMONY

--CHAPTER TWO--

PERFECT PLAN

It was a Sunday like any other. A cool breeze blew through the Zexey Park, leaves fluttered everywhere. Jacques smoothed back his hair. He had been waiting for quite some time under a big apple tree; one of the few that had escaped the mysterious carvings. He heard a rustling sound. Finally.

"Mission accomplished." Franz said with a thumb's up. He handed some pieces of paper to Jacques.

Jacques nodded and put the pieces of paper in his pocket. He looked satisfied. Now, all they had to do was wait.

Franz took a look at his wristwatch. A quarter before 4. Plenty more time before it gets dark. "Good!" he said happily, "Plenty of time for celebrating. Where should we go, huh?"

"Home." Jacques answered.

"Home? After all we did?" Franz said, disappointed, "Oh, come on, Jacques."

"Celebrate when it comes out Franz." He walked away, "See you till' then."

Franz let out a sigh and smiled. "Heh… You're pretty happy now aren't you?" he whispered, with only the wind hearing his words as Jacques' figure disappeared around the corner.

And indeed, a smile made its way to Jacques.

-------------

"Lady Chris, what would you have for dinner?" Eike, the manservant, asked.

"Anything you'd like to cook, Eike." She answered, scribbling on her notebook.

"I really don't know what that might be." He responded.

"Hmm…" Chris looked up at the ceiling, "I think I'll have some ice cream today."

"Oh. Well, yes, dessert. What about the main course?" Eike asked. The article from the past few days obviously still has some bad effects on his young charge.

"Hmm… Whatever you'd like to cook, Eike." She answered; forgetting that she has said the same thing before.

"I daresay, Lady Chris…" But Eike was cut short when Koroku marched into the room, barking happily. Eike knew what that meant. "Ah, Master Jacques is here." He slipped out of the room without a sound.

Chris continued her scribbling.

"Master Jacques" Eike said when he reached the bottom of the staircase, "What would you have for dinner tonight?"

Jacques smiled. "Steak."

"Ah yes. Very well, with my special sauce, I presume?" Eike said, noticing the unusual gleam in his master's eyes.

Jacques nodded and walked straight up the stairs to Chris' room. He knocked even though the door was already opened.

Koroku greeted him with a long face. Whimpering and pointing his nose over at Chris.

"Chris?"

No answer. Just continuous scribbling.

'What on earth is she writing about anyway?' Jacques walked over to take a closer look. She was scribbling on her diary. No wonder. He decided to leave her alone for a while and went to his room. He lied down on his big four-poster bed, the smile still not leaving his face. Tomorrow, Chris will be back to her normal self. Tomorrow, everyone should get ready for a shocking turn of events. He didn't like the idea of embarrassing anyone in public, nevertheless, it needed to be done. He closed his eyes contentedly, remembering the events in the hours following the publication of the article.


Reacting fast to a bad situation did a whole lot of good for everyone, especially to the people involved. In the case of the bad guy though, that's another story.

Why, had it not been for Franz, Jacques would not have thought of this plan at all.

"My dad was upset when he heard the news about Chris marrying Nash. Says it was a waste." Franz had said.

Then it occurred suddenly to Jacques: Franz's father was the editor of the most widely read newspaper in town. A plan formulated in is head. Now all he needed to do were the necessary preparations and talk to the necessary people. This was going to be a piece of cake.

--------------

Percival entered the jungle of a classroom. Typical freshmen. Paper throwing and foul language. A paper airplane even flew inches from his nose. He wanted to pick up the "parcel" and leave as soon as he possibly could. He looked around.

"Erm… Excuse me." He shouted through the noise, "Is there anybody named Kaddis here? A Barts Kaddis?" he asked.

Eyes met his. Those eyes though, were the least bit welcoming. Some even looked at him in a peculiar manner, as though he was a creature from another planet. Well, he didin't actually know Barts Kaddis, did he? What was he to do now?

"You're new, I know." Said a voice behind him.

Percival turned around. "Huh?"

A boy with long brown hair tied into a ponytail stood facing him. A mischievous grin on his face. People started to murmur.

"Ahem…" Barts cleared his throat. Percival sensed authority in that little act. And he was right; silence instantly swept through the room. The boy had a strange presence that gave you goosebumps and sent shivers down your spine.

Percival watched the little boy settle himself to his seat, all the while tying a dark brown bandanna on his head. He held out his hand, "Barts Kaddis at your service. Would you like to view my catalogue? Each celebrity has got his or her own price. Special discounts can be availed though." He said as though he were programmed to say it. "Then again" he added, "You're here to pick up the parcel."

"That I am." Percival answered with a curt nod instead of accepting the handshake.

"I've got exactly what he wants. But…" Barts asked, opening his bag to get the parcel.

"Yes, I have it right here." Percival took a small white envelope from his pocket. "Additional allowance, I suppose. All five digits. You can count if you want." He answered with a shrug.

"No need." Barts answered proudly, "I trust Jacques enough to give him a really big discount." He handed the brown envelope or the "parcel" over. "This covers my motorcycle upgrade." He said happily, taking the white envelope.

"Hmm…" Percival said. Motorcycle? Interesting. Aristocrats don't ride motorcycles, much less sons of a very influential politician, didn't they prefer flashy convertibles? Yet who was he to say anything?

"Well, it was certainly nice doing business with you." Barts said. Holding out his hand for the second time.

This time, Percival took it, "My pleasure." He said with a smile. The little boy's grip was firm. A perfect handshake if there ever was one. This boy was obviously practiced.

Percival turned to leave.

"Oh, and Lancaster, this better not be disappointing." Barts called out after him.

Percival waved his hand. This boy did know everything, a bit too much maybe.

Percival started to make his way to the classroom, checking a wall clock on the corridor on the way. Five minutes before classes start. He decided to pass by Chris' classroom before he went back to report to Jacques. He peeked through the slightly opened door.

Students were chatting about. Chris though, ever obedient, was seated reading a thick book. One which he recognized to be the book Chris had borrowed when he first saw her at the library. It was nice to see she was still able to concentrate on her studies even after that news came out.

Percival walked to his classroom now. Envelope in his hand, he entered the room. Nash Clovis was nowhere to be seen.

"Where's Clovis?" he asked Franz, handing over the parcel.

"Dunno." Franz answered. "Borus is missing, too. You don't think they went out to kill each other?" he said, with hints of bits of concern in his voice.

"No." Percival answered. "Who's Borus?" he asked.

"Oh yeah. " Franz said, "I'll introduce you. That is if I can find that hot-headed sack of potatoes."

"Thanks." Jacques said, taking the envelope.

"So where are we going today? It's a Friday, you know?" he said facing Percival, "Customary for us to go out and have a little drink or something."

"Oh." Percival answered. He still needed to learn the schedule of his newfound friends. So far, it has been great spending time with them though.

"Pick up the article from my house tomorrow." Jacques said in a low voice. "I'll prepare it tonight." Then he returned to his normal voice, which was, almost a whisper as well, "I think I'll pass for this week."

"Huh? Bummer." Franz murmured. "Oh well. Next week, Percy."

"Don't call me that!" Percival retorted.

The bell rung and the teacher entered to start the class.

"So, is everyone ready for Science?" Jeanne asked. Everyone sat down in their proper seats, and they went on with their lesson.

--------------

Franz knocked on Jacques' room lightly. A good Saturday morning, it had seemed. The perfect day to put the plan into action.

Jacques opened the door, dressed in a white cotton shirt and jeans.

"Took you forever." Franz said, "So? Where is it?"

"I wrote it down." Jacques answered. "In case you needed to retype it to match the shape."

"Okay." Franz answered, "I'm going to check my dad's final copy for Monday morning's newspaper tomorrow." Franz was saying, "I'll take care of it." He waved Jacques goodbye and left.

He rode his bicycle back home, passing through a shortcut in a narrow alleyway. Within minutes, he had reached his own home. It was as big as Jacques' so to say. It had a different setting though. Walking through the front gates, you would witness the effect of Franz's father's hobby, collecting water fountains, that is. The wonderful thing about it is the way it was arranged all throughout the mansion; each fountain having corresponding stories to tell.

Franz sat down on his porch for a while. Trying to figure out his timing in which he would execute the most crucial part of their plan. His father usually came home around half past midnight. That meant, he had to sneak the article onto his father's final copy before he brought it for publishing around the afternoon. He ran his father's Sunday schedule in his head.

8AM -Go to work

12NN -Come home for lunch and reread the final copy

1PM -Get final copy for the next day's paper from the study

1:05PM -Get back to work to edit the news section

12:30 Midnight -Come home and get some sleep

By half past midnight, the newspaper would have already been distributed to the thousand stands in Vinay del Zexey. He had lots of time to sneak the article into his father's study, he had the whole morning before 1. This plan is full-proof. Except for one problem: His dad kept the study locked when the final copy was still in. That meant he had limited time to retype and repost the article to the exact place and shape he had seen it in. Franz's adrenaline tingled at the thought of a challenge. Tomorrow would be his day.

--------------

"Mom, can I have an early lunch tomorrow?" Franz asked on the breakfast table.

"Why, dear? Do you not want to have lunch with us?" His mother answered.

"It's nothing like that. It's just, I want to take a nap before I meet up with the guys at 4. You know how I am with naps." He said with a smile. "Alarm clocks never work on me."

"Hmm… This is the first time, I suppose. Alright. Just for today." She said.

"Thanks, mom." He said, kissing her on the cheek.

Sunday mornings are usually boring. Not this Sunday though. He had to wait for his father to come home. Franz thought it wise to read the article he was supposed to type beforehand. He selected a private place. The garden. He opened up Jacques' written article.

He had to smile. He had read the information they got from Barts already. 'This would certainly build up the guy's guilt.' He thought.

The article was short but perfect. No problem. Celebrity articles were usually short. Jacques even copied the writer's style. Franz was pretty sure the writer would have a nice surprise, and have his monthly money supply cut off. Never did justice feel so sweet. Franz decided to keep himself busy by tending to the garden, something he didn't usually do. But hey, he didn't exchange articles from his father's newspaper everyday neither. Trying new things out is fun.

Finally, the clock struck 12 noon. His father's car pulled up on the mansion's front gates. 'Right on time.' Jacques thought. A hearty meal was served, which took his father only ten minutes to gobble up. He went straight to the study and finally unlocked the door. He sat down on his chair and opened the newspaper to the Sports page. He started rereading.

'Oh man.' Franz thought from behind the study doors. He was well-hidden behind its huge surface. He peered into the room, 'How am I going to get him out of that room? I need approximately 10 minutes to get the job done.'

"Honey!" A voice called from downstairs, "Dessert! Your favorite!"

'Perfect!' Franz almost shouted out. 'Dad would never miss the chance to have his favorite dessert.' Luck was apparently on their side.

Obediently, his father stood up and rushed down the stairs to meet with his favorite dessert.

"I love you, mom!" He whispered. He turned it to the celebrity page. Careful not to tear the page, he removed the original article. The one written by Freddie Gunt. "Boy, is Freddie Gunt gonna' have a hard life." He said to himself. He tried to copy the format in which the original article was set.

Typing was easy. He finished the short article within 3 minutes. He took a pair of scissors and cut the article into the exact same shape the real article had been. Everything as though nothing changed. He started gluing the article to the newspaper, hoping it would dry out before his dad came in, and then he turned it back to the Sports page.

'Just like how he left it.' Franz thought.

And of course, with his job finished for the day, he ran out of the study and scurried into his bedroom just in time, too. He saw his dad come up the stairs rubbing his ever growing tummy. At that moment, he quickly put the original article in his pocket and even said a quick "Hi!" to his dad.

'Time for a nap.' He thought. 'The printing press will do the job for me.' He took his nap and prepared to meet with Jacques in the park.


A light tap on the door woke Jacques up. It was Chris.

"Dinner time." She said.

'Good. She's talking.' He thought.

Dinner was sumptuous as it usually was.

"I think I'll go to bed earlier." Chris said.

Jacques nodded.

"Good night." She walked off.

Jacques stood up from his seat and took a final look at the article from his pocket.

'Engagement News by Freddie Gunt

Nash Clovis has confirmed his marriage to Chris Lightfellow! In our latest interview with him, he revealed to us, "Our marriage will be private. Really private. You know, one of those weddings on private islands. Two months from now, I'm so excited. Of course, no reporters invited."

Now this reporter thought it upsetting not to be invited…'

"Rubbish." Jacques said and threw the paper into the fireplace. Who cared about this writer's opinions anyway? It had been a great help though. Freddie Gunt's style of writing always included bits of his own opinions. 'Freddie Gunt is going to get what he so rightfully deserves after writing all these lies. That'll teach him to play with my little sister's feelings.' Jacques finallized. Gunt's social death was imminent. Who was not to say Nash Clovis wouldn't cut off Freddie Gunt's writing hand once the article comes out?

--------------

"Hey, have you read the papers?" was the first greeting Chris got for her Monday morning at school.

"No." She merely answered. Déjà vu was it? She quickly made her way to her classroom. No intrigues. For now.

Classes today were only up until one. That meant they could leave after lunch time. Chris held her breath before she pushed open the cafeteria doors.

"Chris!" Borus rushed to her side, "Look."

Borus had a little bruise on his left cheek. It was still a bit red. Fresh maybe. Borus covered his cheek when he saw Chris looking.

"Why were you absent yesterday? Tell me what I'm thinking is wrong. The reason for your absence… Because you picked a fight with…"

"No!" Borus quickly cut Chris off. "Don't mind me. Just take a look at the paper, Chris."

Chris reluctantly looked. The newspaper read:

'Nashonal Party by Freddie Gunt

A black limousine was seen pulling up by the Clovis manor sometime around one yesterday morning escorted by two police cars. Our source witnessed a drunk Nash Clovis steeping out of the car. In his arms, a woman dressed in no more than a fur coat, this woman was not Chris Lightfellow. A red-faced Nash held in his other hand a bottle of tequila, singing a tuneless song in between high-pitched hiccups. According to our witness, Nash left around eight the night before to attend a party among male friends, so why this woman?

In this writer's humble opinion, this does not seem the proper attitude for an engaged aristocrat. With special emphasis on the last two words, of course. Yet youth nowadays aren't like your regular Denzel. Why Denzel you ask? This reporter urges readers to figure it out for themselves.'

"Denzel?" Chris raised an eyebow.

Borus smiled. Chris is back.

Barts was smiling as well. He stood up and passed by Jacques' table.

"Hey. This is a bit too subtle." He said in a low voice. This was their little secret after all.

Jacques looked up.

"To tell you honestly, I'm a bit disappointed. The only ones who know who Denzel is are me, your gang and Nash." Barts said, shaking his head.

"Not to mention the woman who bore the kid." Franz added.

"Denzel's a nice name, huh?" Barts said, "I don't think Clovis is good enough a father to choose that nice a name for his son."

"Who knows." Jacques remarked.

"And who cares." Barts added with a laugh.

"I guess Nash isn't going to show his face around here for a while." Percival said, looking about for Chris.

"Don't bet on it." Barts answered.

Percival seemed to have found who he was looking for. "Who's that?" He asked pointing over to Chris' direction. She was talking with a blonde boy.

"Huh? Oh, Borus! Perfect timing. I'll introduce you." Franz said, standing up.

"No thanks." Percival murmured.

"What?" Franz was surprised.

Jacques watched Percival's expression. Could it be… Jealousy? Jacques didn't entirely dismiss this thought from his head. The fact that such a feeling could exist was not entirely impossible. In fact, nothing seemed an impossible thought for Jacques. He was very open- minded.

"Jacques! I want to go home." Chris' voice suddenly said from nowhere.

He turned to see her smiling happily at him. Thank goodness. No more depressed tones.

"Okay." He said, standing up.

"Chris. Did you try-out for the play?" Percival asked, seeing Borus following Chris to their table.

"Nope." She said, "I got invited to do the lead."

"Really?" he said.

Chris nodded. "You?"

"Results will be posted tomorrow." He answered.

"Right, I'll wait till' then." She said with a genuinely sweet smile.

Franz had stayed back to meet up with Borus. Something was definitely upsetting Percival. Perhaps he didn't like Borus as much as Franz wanted him to. Percival just sat there staring at his drink.

Brother and sister walked home together.

"Thank you." Chris whispered, loud enough for Jacques to hear.

"Huh?" Jacques said, startled.

"I overheard your conversation with Franz. You had it all planned. I wish you wouldn't do it again though. I don't want anybody getting hurt. Especially you." She said, with all honesty.

Technically, they hadn't hurt anybody; physically, that is. Mentally? Maybe. Conscience is the word for that. And if anybody did get hurt physically. Jacques wouldn't be the one responsible for inflicting the pain. Well, technically.

Jacques smiled at that thought.

They reached their house. Eike was already there. A hot meal waiting for them.

"Eike's early today." Chris remarked.

Jacques waited for the usual greeting, except it never came. No bark, nothing. "Where's Koroku?" Jacques asked when Eike went to greet them.

"Well, that's what I was going to tell you about. I'm early because I didn't open the library today. I went out in search of Koroku instead. I've been looking for him all morning. No such luck I'm afraid. Forgive me." He said, bowing his head.

"He'll come back. This has happened before!" Chris said trying to be cheerful. It had happened before, sometime when she was a bit younger. "Koroku always came back. He always did. Always..." she said, with a sad and doubtful expression.

Author's Notes: Sorry it took me a long time to update. I had to get through my exams first. Anyway, I hope you like this one. Thank you, Crystal for listening to my confusing blabber about this chapter. The next chapter is under construction. I'll have a bit more chapters posted before semestral break ends, so stay tuned for that. Read and review.:)