Hey-hey, we're closing up on that stuff~ Remember that snowy conversation of theirs?

For those days we felt like a mistake,
Those times when love's what you hate,
Somehow,
We keep marching on.

For those nights when I couldn't be there,
I've made it harder to know that you know,
That somehow,
We'll keep moving on.

There's so many wars we fought,
There's so many things we're not,
But with what we have,
I promise you that,
We're marching on

One Republic "Marching On"

He looks up to see a kid standing a few steps away, smiling a weird smile reflected also in his unmatched eyes under expectantly raised eyebrows; this kid, a recognition clicks, this… kid is…

The boy eyes his face and sees something in it, something which turns his expression into one of – not recognition of him – but some sort of recognition or understanding – and the boy speaks.

"…You are also," he says evenly, "'the cause of misfortune'…"

He doesn't know what the strange child wants or means or implies or refers to, and it shows on his face.

"Huh… You didn't know?" the boy mocks nonchalantly, and tells the story of a "misfortune child" from one hundred years ago, one with red irises said to attract worst of luck, one who didn't even do anything, but was chased away and bullied and insulted, in an impersonal voice, and stops, voice trailing off, and grins with apparent friendliness at his alert features.

"That's great. You're living in the present era."

But before any questions can be asked, another voice calls out, calling the child the name he remembers hearing from her mouth, with such pure, uncontrollable detestation, so it was this kid, does he recognise him too –

"My name is Vincent Nightray. I'm searching for my brother, whose whereabouts are unknown. Black hair and golden eyes. A year older than me…" and there was, there was another child back then, swung over the blonde's shoulder, with messy dark hair the only detail visible of numbly hanging head, "his name's Gilbert. If you meet such a person, can you please contact the Nightray Household..?"

Without waiting for an answer the boy waves casually and smirks, "Bye bye, big brother, who is the cause of misfortune," and walks away with the woman, followed by a puzzled gaze of one unlucky scarlet eye.

That kid is also… the four duke's houses'…

"Is there any," he whispers hoarsely into the still, cool, air, "meaning behind this..?"

That kid, who strolled into the very heart of the Abyss and laughed in the face of the princess of destruction during the great Tragedy – everyone was dead – a kid born a hundred years ago, dragging his older brother out of the mayhem which had ensued thirty years before he was cast into the deepness – everyone keeps breaking – several dozen years which had no effect on either of them later grins, not without a note of insanity still lingering there, and announces himself a child of a noble family –

and he stays with one too –

what kind of a pattern could that be..?

Will of Abyss… Sabrie… her wish…

…he had decided to live, with a mixture of recklessly wound commitments and passive resignation to unspoken propositions agreeing to act the play of his concept, and there has to be a reason…

…white snowflakes sit quietly on the white glove…

…the white girl's… Alice's… hopeful, pleading tone of unfounded trust in a pathetically determined stranger she herself mutilated minutes earlier…

I… still have what she entrusted me to do.

…will it even make a difference? A reason way better than many others…

So… I still-!

His fingers curl into a fist once again as an expression of pained decisiveness creeps onto his face, carving it into shapes which it hasn't taken in a long time, and his head lifts somewhat.

Unexpectedly, like from a completely different dream, Miss Sharon's surprised but happy voice calls him from a distance –

Hey, really..? Can you fulfill my wish..?

their faces are so unlike each other, but each radiating unsubstantiated faith in him –

the rosy-eyed girl runs towards him, his red orb under a suddenly heavy eyelid and fringes swirling in a turn takes in her little figure and that young man behind her –

Alice's lips, slightly parted in a soft request, appear for a split second, letting out the now indispensable wish –

Then… I want-

There is a shade of a smile just for the little girl despite the wordless resolution in favour of that other little girl, so now the links have multiplied, the past and the present – the madness and the relative sanity – new, true, honest, but never again mindless loyalties – and Miss Sharon's small hand pats his head, to which he complies with hidden delight spreading shy warmth around his constantly pained heart.

He lets her take him home.

And there, there he kneels again, on the vast carpet before the Mistress's armchair, and asks her forgiveness for the rediscovered pledge he will strive to fulfill while – naturally – invariably serving his saviors with all due gratitude, but it is not enough, can she understand –

"To me… I need a reason."

The lady nods, her rosy eyes scrutinizing.

"The reason for me to continue living."

Silence of anticipation.

"Therefore, I need to confirm the truth of 100 years ago."

His head rises slowly to meet her stare.

"Can you forgive me…Mistress Shelly?"

Mistress Shelly smiles graciously and he sees she can, and will, and indeed she is glad to; since she sees her guest is eventually healed, or as close as he'll ever get to being healed, and she gives him a hand to lay a respectful kiss on.

It is with a smirk of his own, mockingly ironic, uncertainly hopeful and delicately thankful, that he accepts the future rolling out for him to step into.

Sooooo, the missing piece is finally there and this could be the end actually, but title obliges, so there'll be an epilogue also. Lalala~