My apologies. Tonight, I aim to update all of my fanfics. I will try my very best. I shall persevere. So you had better enjoy my hard work.

;)

Just kidding. I have finally gotten into the swing of my semester (took forever, but I had to wait until I started working). I may not update very week or every other week, but it will be more regular than the summer months. Also I will not update both fics tonight, I will do the other one in the morning though, as I procrastinate studying and homework.

Chapter 21

Mana's POV

I visited Neah one evening, and found him pouring over several pages of notes, his gaze determined and focused. A small smile found its way onto my face, taking over my mouth. This reminded me of his days as a child in school. How long ago he began to diligently study his notes, I could not tell, but only dusky light fell through the window now and he had yet to light a candle which to read by. I could only assumed he began in the full daylight several hours ago now.

I quietly moved about in his room, lighting as many candles as I possibly could. After they were all lit, I carried one to his desk. As I approached, Neah looked up from his study, blinked at the candle, then raised his head to look up at me. He put on a weary smile, eyes slightly dazed, undoubtedly tired.

"Thank you Mana," he told me with genuine appreciation in his golden gaze.

"You are very welcome," I replied warmly. I gestured to the pages on his desk. "What are you studying?

His eyes trailed down to the notes, facial expression smoothing out to become thoughtful.

"I have to be in a festival three days from now as the main show, so to speak," Neah explained. "I do not have all of my Noah memories yet, so I asked someone to inform me of what I should do."

Ah, I forgot about the festival honoring the Noah of Destruction, I thought to myself.

"Who did you ask to help you?" I asked him curiously. His expression then became somewhat sheepish, as if he were worried about how I would react to his response. I narrowed my eyes at him suspiciously. "Neah, who helped you?"

"The…Exorcist," he said hesitantly. "Red."

A strange emotion filled me, and I approached his desk once more, this time not stopping until my thigh touched the hard corner. I looked over his shoulder, scanning over all of the notes with a critical eye. One sheet had information purely pertaining to the festival. Another discussed the Vatican and its customs, laws, hierarchy, nearly every tiny little detail a basic outline could depict. Not only did the amount of detail of the content surprise me, but also its simplicity, its accuracy. It seemed far too in-depth for a normal citizen to have such knowledge, and I doubted that Exorcists receive special schooling.

"You asked him other things as well?" I said absently, focusing on the sheet concerning information about the festival. It was so precise, it arose my suspicions even further. Only a Noah, Akuma, Cardinal, or Senator would know so much about the whole ordeal. The last part, where the miracle was performed, was not shown to the public. The public only got to see the result.

"I think in order to quell my hatred and my thirst for revenge, I should learn more about Red," Neah replied quietly. "He is patient, very smart, and an excellent teacher. The only flaw I see in him, if you can consider it a flaw, is how hard he makes it for someone to read him. He resembles a mask, the rigid face hinting, but never displaying what lies beneath…"

I put a hand on his shoulder, inwardly pleased by his answer. Hopefully he would not befriend Red, but simply understanding Red would prevent him from straying onto a path that would lead him to become a monster.

"It's not anything unexpected or unusual. I myself do not know much about Exorcists, however what little I have come to learn about them is that the lives they live…are less than lives. What they live every day is a contest, no, a fight for survival," I explained to him. "I would tell you to ask Red about Exorcists, but he is not forthcoming about that particular topic. Bookman would be the better choice for asking about them."

Neah nodded, mulling over the idea. He took the papers and put them together in a stack.

"Mana, why are some of the Noahs angry at you? Is it because you ran away?" he asked me. I swallowed down the rising guilt, knowing that now was the time to tell Neah about all that had occurred hear in this city, in this very place sacred only to the Noahs. To divulge my secret life that I started here, and desperately tried to leave behind.

"Part of their anger stems from that reason," I admitted. "I always wandered off through the city, and when I ran away to be with you, they felt cheated, and jealous. But there is also another reason. A much graver reason."

I passed a hand over my face to cover the sudden twist in my expression, caused by the pain from my throat constricting. Behind my eyelids I could see silver, a scowling face, but eyes so silver and bright I knew exactly what the owner truly felt. Always hiding, hiding behind that hard façade. So afraid to love. To beloved. And for good reason, as I proved.

"Mana?" Neah asked in a startled voice.

"Forgive me," I apologized, removing my hand and forcing a smile onto my face. He did not look reassured in the slightest. MY smile faded after a moment. The guilt stamping it out.

"I…am an awful person, Neah," I confessed in a low voice. He opened his mouth to protest and I help up my hand to stop him. "I am, Neah, I am truly unforgiveable."

I moved to take a seat on his desk, right in front of him. I tilted my head until it touched the wall, and where I could look outside into the vast desert, no longer lit by that hot and miserable sun. Nostalgia filled me, along with old, sweet memories now tainted with bitterness because of what I know in this very moment. Because of the actions I have committed.

"When I first came here, after my transformation, I thought I was going mad. Day and night I heard the sobbing of a child, the most pitiful, heart breaking sound I had ever heard in my life." Simply recalling that sound brought echoes back to me, the sound reverberating in my mind over and over again. "Eventually I tried to seek out the child that voice belonged to. I trekked across the entire city, walking along every road I could find. I went through every district, looking a lost, sad child. I found many in great need, who led sad and tortured lives. And yet I never found that one, that lonely crier whose broken soul I could hear in voice alone."

I drew in a shaky breath.

"The owner, as it turns out, never mattered. It was fate that let me hear this pitiful sound, and it was fate that allowed me to find a small waif in the lowest district, a child who hid in the shadows and would follow me every time he thought that I never noticed. Each time I went down he would somehow learn of my presence and seek me out. Eventually I began to bring bread with me during my excursions, and I would give it to him. It was like feeding a stray dog or a stray cat in Londinium." A humorless chuckle escaped my lips as I recalled that boy's first reaction to seeing, smelling, tasting bread. "Did you know that there are some people there who have never seen bread before? He certainly had not. That poor child knew nothing of social bonds. He did not even have a name…"

"Did you leave him there?" asked Neah, his voice quaking. I opened my eyes, the images behind them disappearing. When had they closed? Then I looked over at my brother, and saw the pained expression on his face. I felt awful for making him think so little of the older brother he once looked up to so much.

"No. I adopted him as my son. I gave him the name, 'Allen Walker', and I brought him back here with me, in the Ark. He was a foul-mouthed child who was prickly and distrustful of everyone. At the time, I felt a kinship with him, because I felt the same way about the other Noahs. But he was always angry with me in the beginning, for reasons I still do not understand. It may have something to do with the searches I continued to conduct, looking for the owner of tat voice, but soon it stopped. I assumed the child died and quit looking for someone who no longer existed in the world. I gave all of my attention to Allen, and he seemed to warm up to me gradually. Later, he even began to warm up to the other Noahs." My throat grew thick as the truly awful part of my tale came into being, came to be from my own mouth. "For a time I settled with Allen, accepting my fate in this place, Allen's presence my solace. But after a while I became restless, and I longed to return to Londinium, to you. But Allen tied me down to his place. I began to hate Allen, and that hatred grew as time passed. I thought to myself every day, If not for him I would have left the Vatican long, long ago."

I broke m gaze with my little brother, eyes burning with unshed tears that I forced to stay back. I had no right to cry. No right. "I eventually made the decision to leave Allen behind. Once I thought of taking him with me to meet you, where we could live together as a family. But by then my hatred had grown so much…"

My voice broke, and I cleared my throat. A hot tear ran down my cheek.

"I told myself that the Noahs would find him a good home to live in, or keep him here. I thought that he would be dealt with appropriately, without any of my hatred befalling unto him. But I was wrong, so very wrong."

More tears ran down, and I pressed a shaking hand to my face.

Neah was silent for a while. And then he asked that dreadful question that I did not want to answer.

"Where is Allen now?"

"Neah," I cried, sobbing loudly, burying my face into my hands. I barely noticed his hand on my shoulder. "Neah, do not let anger or hatred or the petty need to make someone pay for what they've done to you take over. It will consume you—make you do things you regret!"

"Mana—"

"Allen died!" I cried out. "Allen died, and it was all my fault! All..."

My voice cracked again, but I no longer cared, to awashed in a sea of guilt and grief, regret, pain.

"All…my fault."

::

Red's POV

"What is your favorite color?" asked Tyki. As I lay reclining in the bed ( he was coaxing me to sleep without me by my side). I could hear the sound of charcoal, perhaps, on paper. The strokes were long, light, quick. He was sketching something or another. Perhaps something outside the window.

"I am blind," I reminded him, slightly teasing him. "Is that not an insensitive question?"

Tyki must have heard the light hearted tone in my voice, as I hoped he would, because then he chuckled.

"But you were not always blind," he pointed out. I smiled to myself, a subtle and foreign twsit of facial muscles.

"Gray," I answered at last.

"Gray? Tyki repeated, sounding surprised. "That is a surprisingly boring color for you to like."

"Not really. Gray…comes in many different shades. My favorite sight, before I fell prey to blindness, was the gray of the sky before a rainstorm, or the gray hair elderly people earned after living long lives," I replied, voice nearly wistful. "Black reminds me of my childhood. And white…reminds me of the things you want to touch, but can never have because our own hands are too tainted."

Tyki was silent, his utensil now still.

"Black and white," he mused. "When you put them together, gray is made. I suppose you mean that gray is the best of both worlds."

Or the tainted version of both.

I nodded, however, my smile fading. A strange longing arose inside of me. The Noahs rarely walked in pure darkness, even on the Ark, But when they did, light shone from within their dark skin, a strange glow illuminating the air around them. Mana, when I first saw him, glowed. I thought it merely an attribute of his pale skin. But having grown up around the Noah, and now being blind, I find myself wanting to see Tyki's glow.

I never would be able to see him, let alone his glow.

"What are you doing?" I asked Tyki, trying to change the topic and chase away these awful feelings from my heart. His aura suddenly became embarrassed, sheepish.

"I wanted to get better at drawing, so I'm trying to sketch objects instead of people," he answered. I could tell it was a white lie. He probably did practice drawing other objects, however, I knew he was in fact drawing something else at the moment. I suppose he did not want to admit drawing a random woman to the person he was currently courting. A small amount of irritation and envy welled up, but I quickly quashed it.

"I see," I replied. I heard the sound of wood on wood. Tyki must have put down his pencil. I tilted my head in his direction, frowning slightly. "What is it?"

Wordlessly he stood, the chair legs scraping against the floor. A hand pressed against the mattress as he climbed over me, settling down by my side. One arm sneaked beneath my pillow, the other draped over my waist.

"You have not gone to sleep yet," he whispered, completely avoiding my question, and doing it on purpose if his smug tone was anything to go by.

"It is still early," I replied. But his warmth began to make me drowsy, his scent comforting and familiar. Tyki must have noticed my expression or my body begin to relax because he tugged me closer until there was no space between our two bodies. Together we merged into one entanglement.

"Early or not, I know you cannot sleep without someone by your side," he murmured. Tyki shifted, more of his weight falling onto me, lowering himself just enough to nestle his face against my neck. My breath caught, all drowsiness evaporating away. I became hyperaware of his skin against mine, his nose pressed against my neck, and the slow, warm puffs of air hitting my sensitive flesh. I fought this new urge to pull away. It felt less like fear and discomfort, and more like embarrassment, vulnerability, and even laughter…?It did tickle.

"Tyki," I managed to say.

"Hmm?"

"Can you move your head please?" I asked for an explanation that fit my discomfort. "You are tickling me. And I cannot fall asleep when feeling ticklish."

He pulled away obediently, amusement and happiness tinged his aura.

"You are blushing," he remarked, sounding somewhat awed. "Do I really affect you so much? I have never seen you so embarrassed before…"

After a moment of internal debate I pushed him onto his back, burying my face into his clothed chest to hide it.

"Shut up," I muttered. His chest rumbled with chuckles, causing his lungs to fill and tremble. I smiled against him, hoping he would not notice.

::

I opened my eyes. I stood in a room with white curtains, sunlight flowing in. I looked around, seeing two alcoves opposite of each other. The other lay empty, and that saddened me. So I walked towards the window, pushing aside the curtain to look outside. The sun shone brightly across the desert. In the distance I could see the oasis, people carrying their wares back and forth between the Vatican and Londinium. But the sight which caught my attention the most was the rainbow, caused by the fine mist falling down uncharacteristically. A sun shower.

"Beautiful," I murmured.

::

I woke up, cal, filled with the lingering emotions of my strange—pleasant, but strange—dream. I felt Tyki next to me, his body radiating heat in the chilled room. I pushed the dream to the back of my mind and pressed against Tyki, returning to a dreamless sleep.