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"calendar"

It had been 200 days since Lag left home. 200 days since he got his pass for Bifrost. It had been 200 days since Lag had last seen his aunt but in turn met the people he only saw in memories and dreams. Dreams that now, he had thought in a daze, he could finally act on.

Dreams that had been crushed into dust, like the delicately falling heart from Gauche's gun.

Sometimes it didn't feel so long. When he was running across Yusari or laughing with his friends, when Niche would run circles around him trying to escape Sylvette, Lag honestly forgot about numbers.

But when he was alone, away from the soothing twilight of Yusari Central, it felt like it had been decades. When the barren and mountainous land stretched ahead of him and the towns were as cold and empty as the vast sky above him was. When Niche was asleep and the only sound he could hear was Steak's snores, 200 felt like 2,000. It felt immeasurable.

000

Noir held the flimsy paper, curious. As was common of sharing a room, he often ran into Lag's belongings. He hadn't meant to, honest, but Niche had caused a mess downstairs and Sylvette had asked him to fetch some of her clothes while Lag tried to coax the little Maka girl into a bath. He'd been rummaging through Lag's dresser drawers when he had felt the glossy paper under his fingertips.

Curiosity had gotten the better of him, he thought absently. But part of him was pleased to learn anything about the smaller boy. Lag was so skittish at times, Noir sometimes wondered if maybe the boy still held a grudge against him.

Nonsense, he thought, flipping through the calendar. It was dated for almost a year ago, and most of it had nondescript dates circled and notes written down. It was actually pretty sparse. Nothing too personal though, Noir noted in somewhat disappointment.

He was about to put the calendar back when he spotted some red ink under the normally bare paper. Blinking, Noir flipped the page up and was surprised to see so much writing that covered the paper, near to excess.

Upon closer inspection, the man noted that they were all plans. Plans about Gauche. About himself, he mused. While Noir had put to bed any thought that he'd truly get his memories back, or even want them back, he was immensely curious to see himself through the little Bee roommate he had.

Little phrases like "eat pizza!" and "talk about work!" popped out, along with some more intimate things. Noir raised an eyebrow. The words, more tiny than the others, "confess!" and "first date!" were squashed into the second row of the month's week.

Well, that was certainly an eye opener. Of course, he'd always had a feeling, but to see it written down was startling. And a bit rushed, what with the more...intimate goals that lined the third week. Noir had never pegged Lag to be someone impatient.

"Noir! Have you found Niche's pants yet?"

Startled, the man nearly dropped the incriminating packet. Swallowing, he reminded himself that Sylvette needed him. Carefully putting the calender back under the neatly folded stack of clothes, he grabbed Niche's small bundle of spare clothes and headed for the door.

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