A/N: This is a retelling of the aftermath of the battle with the Puppetmaster, complete with manga spoilers (and Phantom of the Opera references; hence the title). Most of the dialogue is taken straight from the manga; the descriptions are by me.

Masquerade

Nicholas analyzed the white room he and the Needle Noggin had ended up in with more than a little discontent. The last thing he remembered, before submitting to the darkness, was facing off against that sonuvabitch Grey the Ninelives in the bowels of the City of Mist.

Now he was in a bed, wearing a hospital gown and bandages, and growing increasingly confused as to why he wasn't yet dead.

"Where the hell is my Punisher?" he asked, to no avail.

"WOLFWOOD!" a voice screamed in his ear. The priest double-taked in shock, then in consternation as the elated face of the Stampede filled his view.

"Have you never heard of personal space?" he growled, shrugging off Vash's attempts to envelope him in a hug. "I'm broken in about a million places, here!"

"Sorry," his traveling companion said sheepishly. He no longer sported his signature red trenchcoat – having dropped it in favor of a matching hospital gown – and his spikey hair had regressed into what could be only called a bad hair day. "Are you all right?"

"Um, what did I just say?" Wolfwood's feigned annoyance was broken as a young girl burst into the room, precariously balancing a tray of donuts in both her arms. The effort looked too much for her, and Wolfwood said as much.

"Hey, kid. Let me come over there and help you with – "

"OH, CRUD!" the girl cried as the whole thing toppled onto the priest's lap; his chest rose and fell painfully under the weight of the ceramic platter, and he fought to restrain a curse.

"You okay, girl?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she replied. Then she caught sight of Wolfwood (as well as of the blond outlaw on his lap gorging himself with pastries) and issued a panicked apology.

"I'm SO SORRY, Wolfwood-san!" She turned around and promptly tripped over her shoelaces. "I'll bring you another plate – owwie..."

"Calm down, you're gonna hurt yourself," Wolfwood said, without much success. He shoved Vash out of his bed, found himself staring at the girl's departing back. "Well, at least she means well, right?"

"Yeah," Vash replied. "Jessica's a sweet girl."

Wolfwood leaned back against the soft pillows and sighed. "That was one hell of a fight, wasn't it."

"Yeah," Vash said, more unhappy than he had seen him thus far. "But... so many people died... and I lost Emilio." His last words were spoken in such a way as to imply a grave failure on his part.

"Who the hell is Emilio?" Wolfwood asked. Then: "Never mind that, you're saying inhabitants were killed?"

Vash nodded; his features remained shadowed.

"Thank you," he said after a moment.

Nicholas gazed at him, stunned.

Then his sarcastic mien returned in full force: "For your information, Mister Love and Peace, I killed. I murdered. I'm nothing like these people here – " he gestured to the other beds in which the elderly were sleeping off illness – "and yet you can actually be grateful? Bastard."

The Tongari returned his stare sadly, replied:

"I'm saying... thank you. Because you spilled blood, you prevented any other innocents from being killed. I couldn't have done it without you."

Wolfwood suddenly felt very ashamed, though his expression didn't change. It was too familiar, reminded him of the sensations of guilt and regret he'd been experiencing all throughout his fight with the Ninelives.

The children...

Hey, Nico-san!

Sorry, but...

It would appear I'm no longer fit to hold you guys.

As though he could discern the priest's thoughts, the Stampede shot him a sympathetic look. "I've burdened you with my own feelings. I'm sorry."

"Feh." As far as Wolfwood was concerned, it was too late for apologies.

Vash exhaled sadly at the rebuff, then turned over in his bed. He neither moved nor spoke, evidently lost in his own private world.

...Okay, so maybe I'm being a little harsh on him, the priest mentally amended. He did risk life and limb to save everyone. He glanced around the room, looking for his Punisher. If it turned out that one of the residents had confiscated it, he swore he was gonna –

What's this? he wondered as his eyes suddenly alit on something else altogether. It was small.

It was a locket.

Wolfwood glanced furtively at Vash, saw that he wasn't stirring, and swiftly picked up the object. The clumsy girl must have dropped in her well-intentioned but ultimately misguided attempt to serve him breakfast. He opened it.

Music floated out – his first indication that he should probably just close the thing before he was caught – but he found he couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight that greeted him, in the form of a photo:

It was Vash.

Or to be more specific, it was Vash bracketing the form of a small girl in his arms while smiling for a camera.

Wait. Is that Jessica? ...But how? Looking at Tongari, I'd swear this was taken yesterday... he doesn't look any older now than he does here.

This was getting weird. Just what kind of mess had Nicholas D. Wolfwood gotten himself into when he decided to follow Vash the Stampede?

To hell with it, he decided after a moment. I need a smoke.

But he realized he recognized the song that was playing, and absurdly mouthed the lyrics to himself in lieu of unceremoniously demanding a cigarette.

"Masquerade... paper faces on parade... masquerade...

"Hide your face so the world will never find you."