So, here's the thing. Last chapter was really long, at 7k words. 7k WORDS! I didn't know I could write that long but I guess I did. The evidence is right there.

Anyways, my favorite characters to write are Yuugo (duh), Lucas (I do like him even though it's hard to write his personality), Sung-Joo, and also Gilda. I don't know why, but she makes me feel good when I write her. In my story, she tried really hard to get Yuugo to come out because she cares about everyone in the shelter and that made me feel good. Emma feels the same way, but Gilda is more motherly and kind. Emma's more childish yet also grown-up in her own way. That's why I like to write Gilda more.

Also, you're way too kind, QuestRunner. Seriously, I love reading your reviews. It keeps me on track and lets me focus. Unfortunately this chapter is going to take a while to publish. I'm having some writer's block.

{Anna's POV}

My hands shake so violently that I'm not sure I can make any clean cuts. Even if my hands were still, I'm not even sure I'm in the right state of mind to do this. According to these books, every cut has to be made precisely. Fidgety hands can kill people during surgeries. Surgeons have to be calm in order to procede with the surgery. Being nauseous at the sight of blood is a big no-no. They can't flinch when cutting into another human being or the cut could become unsteady and kill the patient. And they must be very careful about where they're cutting; a simple mistake can lead to the patient's death.

This is all pretty basic stuff that's repeated over and over in these surgical books, yet I can't do most of those things because I can't calm down. I'm responsible for Mister's life. How can I be calm at a time like this? He's on a ventilator, for crying out loud! It takes everything Mister's got to breathe and stay alive and I am the one that has to perform surgery on Mister? If I mess up, it's very likely Mister will die. How would I be able to face anyone if I killed Mister with my ineptitude?

Oh, Lucas will be devastated if Mister doesn't make it. They'd been apart for thirteen years in the hopes that the other is still alive and now I have to decide Mister's fate? With these shaky hands? Is there even a chance that this procedure will succeed with me as the surgeon?

No, I have to calm down. I'm the only one that can do this. Mister's relying on me.

That thought only makes me tremble more. Mister is relying on me to do this right and I have never done this before. How can I do this? How can I child like me, a mess up in every way, possibly save Mister's life? I'm more likely to kill him than whatever injury he has. There's no way I can do this.

A clawed hand gently pats my head in a calming gesture, stopping my shivers. The size of it is so similar to Emma's hands that I can tell it's Musica trying to calm me down and not Sung-Joo. I lean into the touch a bit, needing comfort for the big task ahead of me. Someone's life rests in my hands. Not just anyone's life, but Mister's life. And there's no room for my typical error.

"Are you alright, Anna?" Musica asks with a concerned frown. I jerkily nod even though I'm pretty sure I'm not. Mister's prone form lays on the bed, waiting for Sung-Joo to return. This procedure isn't too complicated (compared to other surgeries) but is still pretty dangerous considering I have no experience doing this kind of thing. Musica lowers herself to sit beside me, waiting patiently for me to speak.

Sighing, I silently wish to whatever being is up there that Mister will make it out okay. "I'm just scared that I'll mess this up. I have never done a surgery before, and Mister's counting on me to do this without any silly mistakes or else he might die. I mean, everyone's counting on me not to mess up and there's no one there to help fix any mistake I might make. I'm not sure I can do this." I curl up further as I explain why I'm nervous to Musica.

She's always so understanding and kind, so it's not surprising to see her nod along and pat my back. In fact, it makes me feel a lot better to speak to Musica. "I know that it must be really hard to have Mister's life rest in your hands. It's a lot of responsibility for a human at your age. I have faith in you, though." Musica holds my hands and smiles, one so warm and genuine the butterflies disappear. "You all have so much strength to be able to make it this far outside with your family alive and intact, so I know that you can pull through this, too."

Her words bring about a feeling of confidence within me. If Musica believes I can do it, then I must be able to do it. Standing up, I thank Musica for her kind words and walk over to Sung-Joo (who had just returned) and Yuugo, holding the directions tightly in my hand. The jitters start to return the closer I am to Mister, but I just shake it off and tell myself, "I can do this. It doesn't matter how many ways this can go wrong; all I need to focus on is how to do this right. If I know that, then I'll know how to fix my mistakes."

The demon tilts his head at me yet doesn't say whatever he's thinking. Instead he says, "I brought the anesthesia you wanted," pointing to the container that he had returned with. I thank him for helping me, to which he nods back. Sung-Joo has been such a huge help that I don't know what I'd do without him.

I spare a glance towards Mister and feel my blood turn ice cold. For once, the man just looks sad and weak, barely clinging to life with the help of the ventilator. I have a weird feeling that Mister might not even be trying to breathe and the ventilator is doing everything, but there are multiple ways to explain away Mister's inability to breathe independently. Still, to see him like this... Once again, I remind myself that there's no time to feel bad for Mister or to be nervous about the surgery. Pulling on some gloves, I nod at Sung-Joo, desperately hiding my fear.

"Let's begin."

{Lucas's POV}

Just so you know, it's the next day.

Pacing in my room isn't nearly as calming as I thought it would be. Gripping my hair doesn't do any favors, either. Nothing is distracting me from my thoughts, and all I can think about is Yuugo suffering; perhaps he's gasping for air like Walter, unable to breathe because a portion of his torso is gone. Or choking on his own blood and slowly dying from suffocation. My imagination runs wild without any more information about his condition, and I can't stop the images of Yuugo deformed and injured from popping up.

It's all my fault that Yuugo left and now he's gotten hurt! I'm a horrible sibling. Anything I do to help Yuugo just twists around and hurts him. At this rate I'll be the reason that he dies. I don't want more blood on my hands. Especially Yuugo's blood.

But the feeling that's far worse than the guilt is fear, the kind that's causing me to tremble. The fear of losing control of the situation. Everything's slipping from my grasp and I can't do anything to change it. It's a horrible feeling. I know that I'm unable to help Yuugo and it hurts to understand just how useless I am.

Like that time in Goldy Pond.

Trying to quell the rising guilt from that horrible thought, I head for the door. Anywhere is better than here or staying still. As I leave my room, I grab a cane that I had found in the shelter when I was younger; sometimes I would dress up fancily for dinner and pretend to be wearing a suit with this cane while Yuugo wore clashing clothes every time to contrast my neat, tidy look. As if in spite or to simply mess with our siblings. It got them to laugh whenever we stood side by side. Usually I wouldn't dwell on the past so happily like this, but in this moment it's nice to remember the better moments.

But I'm not going to be using the cane for that anymore. Instead I'm using the cane for balance since the prosthetic behaves strangely at times. I do appreciate the amount of care that they took to make not only the actual prosthetic but also the carvings of their names on it (Anna engraved Yuugo's name in neat cursive, something I like to trace over with my finger); however, I'm just not used to having two legs again. Not to mention that the piece of wood won't listen and refuses to bend at times when I try to walk. Other times when I put it down and raise my other foot, the knee starts to bend too much and then I lose my balance. It's still being worked on, but hopefully I'll soon have a fully functional prosthetic leg.

I test out my new leg and the cane, getting into a good position to walk a bit faster. Today the prosthetic is stubborn as a mule, for it refuses to bend at all and I can't get it fixed because Anna is working on—

No, I'm not thinking about that. Not today. I'm going to be positive and help the kids stay happy and optimistic. It's going to be fine. Anna is reliable and trustworthy. All of the orphans are.

I leave my room without looking back, purposefully heading away from Yuugo's room. Ever since I walked past it that one time, I've been getting the urge to just open it and see what made Yuugo so terrified. What he's scared to show me. Still, I'm not going to do that, so I've been giving that room a wide berth. Maybe Yuugo will open up to me later and let me see what he's afraid of.

I wander through the halls, trying to keep my mind off of things by looking around. If I keep walking forward, I'll enter the game room where we all used to play together. Of course, John was a natural at ping-pong; however, he had trouble saying the name correctly. A few turns and I'll stumble across Walter's old lab, probably still just as messy as when he left it.

Following my grumbling stomach, I limp into the kitchen (the prosthetic is really helpful yet also annoying when the joint stops working; not that I hate the gift in any way) and move towards the cabinets to help set up the table for breakfast. The fake leg really is helpful here, and for once I can safely say that the locked knee does wonders to help me when I need to reach for something up high. It's so stable and reliable when the joint freezes, but when I'm walking it does a bit more harm than good. Still, I enjoy wearing it, for I know that these children really do care about my wellbeing every time I take a step.

I set the cane by the counter as I place cups and plates down, for I need my only hand to carry the dishes. The cane is in the way for the moment. However, I do miss the added security and balance that it gives since the prosthetic is still rigid and makes walking a lot harder. Gilda hasn't seen me stumbling around with dishes yet, otherwise she would've forced me to sit down and relax.

With only a few more cups left to put down, I reach into the cupboard to pull out another cup. Yet it's empty. Strange. I peek into the cupboard to see if it really is empty or if I'm just being stupid when I freeze. A broken teacup, shattered beyond belief, sits at the very back. Unusable yet still standing.

Carefully, I pull the teacup out. All the sharp edges and gaps in the sides would easily cut into fingers, and sure enough, there is a spot of dried blood on one of the sharper edges. Staining something that Yuugo meticulously put back together. (It had to be Yuugo who fixed it. This was his cup. The thought of him being so desperate and alone as to fix this teacup over and over again makes my throat tighten painfully.) I rub the stain with my thumb gently, hoping for it to go away. It doesn't.

This is another reminder of how much I failed Yuugo. How much I hurt him. And yet he still blames himself for everything.

I carefully set the teacup back in the cupboard, wishing for all the guilt to hush and settle again in the back of my mind. There's no way I'm having another breakdown here. Not in front of the children. Taking a deep breath, I grab the cane and walk back to my room, feeling weak. Skipping breakfast is an unfortunate sacrifice, but I won't have another outburst in front of the orphans.

Luckily I make it back to my room in time, for the first signs are starting to appear. The familiar tight throat, burning eyes, blurred vision and racing heart. It's happening again. I thought it was over. I had hoped I was over this, that I was strong enough to control this kind of thing.

But apparently I was wrong, for the familiar loss of control is building up as I tremble in the corner, trying to calm down. Why is it so hard? Why can't I just stop being so scared? My heart is beating so hard that it hurts, each pump sending jolts of pain through me. And I don't know how to make it stop. With shaking, sweaty hands, I try to walk over to my bed; however, the cane slips out of my grip and I sway on my feet, feeling woozy and nauseous. The only reason I haven't fallen over yet is because of the prosthetic's locked knee.

This sudden weakness only reminds me of how useless I was in Goldy Pond, those times where I was so scared I couldn't move. Where I couldn't make myself move. I promised that I wouldn't be like that again, but I can't force myself to stop freaking out.

Knowing that I can't control my body's responses only makes my fear grow. What if someone walks in here and sees me like this? So scared that I can't even move with no way to explain why. With no way to silence my fears. Just thinking about Oliver walking in on me again makes me shake harder and turn a dark shade of red from embarrassment. I told him that it would never happen again. That it was a one-time thing. Knowing that he could walk in any moment and see that I lied takes the wind out of me.

I can't let them know how much everything has truly affected me. Otherwise I can't inspire them anymore. If that happens, what will be my purpose? I'll lose all meaning in my life. Maybe I'll lose Yuugo again if he learns about this. I know he'll blame himself for these moments of vulnerability. And I can't hurt him any more than I have already.

Someone gently knocks on the door, but my head can hardly move to face them. I'm still shaking so hard that it's hard to keep standing even with the support of my fake leg. "Lucas? Are you in there?" Gilda's voice calls out. She sounds close and yet far away at the same time. "You didn't eat breakfast."

Hoping that Gilda can't hear the fear in my voice, I respond with, "I ate something already. I wasn't hungry." Such a dumb excuse. I'm an awful liar, but I hope that it was convincing enough for Gilda to at least drop this conversation. To convince her not to open the unlocked door. (I'm such an idiot for not locking it.)

"Well, what did you eat?" The hurt in her voice is apparent. My heart twists at the thought of hurting her feelings.

Surprisingly, my voice does not tremble as I try to carefully talk my way out of this. I'm not a very creative liar, not like Bess (no, don't think about her). "I ate, like, two apples. I don't eat a lot in the morning." At least part of that is true. As long as Gilda doesn't hear my stomach grumbling, she'll probably leave me alone.

There's a long pause before Gilda sighs, "Okay. Next time, tell me if you're going to skip." I agree immediately, wanting Gilda to get as far away from me as possible. I don't want her to see me like this.

{Time skip}

After Gilda walked off, I waited until I settled down like a parent with a screaming child. It took forever for the tremors to stop, and even longer for my heart to stop beating so loudly. Nobody else walked past during that time, and I'm finally grateful that my room is in this hallway for no one comes down here. None of the orphans will know that I broke down this badly, and I want to keep it that way.

Once I'm positive that my outburst is completely done (sometimes I think it's finished only for the fear to start up again with a vengeance), I lower myself down to pick up my fallen cane. It hurt to stand up this long, but I have to go outside before someone decides to see where I've gone.

The children have noticed my absence, but they think nothing of it when I walk in with a smile and a few stories to tell. With the younger orphans settling down to hear me talk, the older orphans can have some time to themselves and perhaps clean up the mess in peace. Another thing I'm good for.

I'm retelling the story of how Yuugo got stuck in a tree when the hooded girl walks past. I can't see anything other than her mouth, but I know the moment she sees me because she picks up the pace. She screams of danger, but I don't know why. And Gilda's talking to her as easily as any other orphan, so she must be a good friend. I shouldn't judge.

I put the girl out of my mind and continue the story.

It's hard to completely ignore her, though, as the children listen to me recall the tale. The girl whispers to Gilda, the sleeves too big to show her hands. Why is the cloak that big? Maybe it belonged to someone close to her. But why is she wearing it right now? The shelter is too warm for something like that. Perhaps she doesn't want to show her face. I don't know, so I should stop thinking about it and focus on what I'm saying.

I'm at the part where Yuugo is crying and I'm attempting to calm him down when the girl's hands peek out from underneath the sleeve. My words almost come to a halt when I catch a glimpse of a claw before the sleeve falls back down. It happens so fast that I'm sure that it must've been my imagination. It had to be my imagination. No, it's just a trick of the light. It could've been something else entirely. I'm just being paranoid.

Even so, I have to remind myself that there are no demons in the shelter.

The orphans all gasp as I finally tell them how Yuugo slipped off the branch and fell, and then they collectively sigh when I tell them that Yuugo bounced right back up with the widest grin and not a single injury, the lucky guy; however, what I don't include in the story is my fear that Yuugo would snap his neck. The swift way gravity pulled him down. That soft yet sickening crunch Yuugo made the moment he hit the ground. How still his body was, and the tears that fell when I realized that Yuugo wasn't getting back up.

Even Mama screamed.

But the children are laughing as my mouth continued to speak and make jokes, so I push those thoughts back and laugh, too. I try not to think about how his heart stuttered underneath my palm, struggling to continue pumping blood. Instead, I laugh with the children and spin a new story, desperate to try and recall a pleasant memory that didn't end in tears.

But no matter how much I try to push it to the back of my mind, I won't ever be able to completely forget that night. After all, that was the day I first caught a glimpse of the monsters running the farms.

Okay, I'm going to end Lucas's POV there simply because I can't think of a good way to end it other than to leave it as it is. Honestly, I wasn't expecting Lucas to end up like this, and I would change it if I didn't have too much of a writer's block to. I kept you waiting too long to make it longer for no reason other than to make it harder on myself.

{Musica's POV}

As the demon walks out of the hospital, Musica sweeps her gaze along the entirety of the hallway. If she gets caught by the other adult, who knows what might happen. He hasn't had a good time with demons and isn't very likely to be as open as the others. They don't know too much of his past, but it's probably more traumatizing than they realize.

The children may not notice, but Musica could smell the sorrow rolling off of the adult in waves. So much so that she can't stand to be by him or else she herself may start to cry. Most demons learn to ignore the emotions they smell off of the humans, but Musica never had the luxury of a cold heart that other demons seem to be born with. She is easily swayed by human emotions, especially when it's all she can smell. Sorrow is the hardest to ignore, mostly because Musica doesn't know how to deal with the feeling.

So when she comes across the adult, Musica is glad that her feet don't freeze in place. Seeing Gilda on the other side of the room, she quickly bolts over, keeping a good distance between her and the adult. Now she's extremely thankful for the long sleeves, for if the adult catches even a glimpse of her claws, she would be outed right away. Hopefully there will be a better time to reveal herself, but not right now. Not right after Yuugo had been attacked by demons and Goldy Pond is still fresh in his mind.

Gilsa's eyes light up when she spots the demon, something that makes Musica's heart swell a bit. This is what she enjoys with the orphans. Their compassion and kindness for even a demon like her. "Oh, Musica! It's great to see you!" After a quick hug, Musica switches her focus over to the adult when another wave of sorrow washes over her. The scent is getting stronger by the minute.

There's no time to think, though, because Gilda immediately asks, "How's Yuugo? Is he okay? Was the surgery successful?" Now Musica's bombarded by not only the scent of sorrow but also worry from Gilda, and she has to bite her lip in order to keep the tears from falling. Keep it together.

Remembering why she's there, Musica nods and waves her arms in excitement—to keep the tears in, of course. (Certainly not because she cares for the human or anything.) "He's breathing again! They just took him off the ventilator, and in an hour or two Anna will let people go by him. After she sleeps a bit. The poor thing has been up all night."

Musica looks over at the adult laughing with the children, and his scent contradicts his body language. He looks happy, but he stinks of guilt, fear, and sadness. Noticing Musica's attention shift, Gilda catches on rather quickly. "Oh, I'll tell Lucas the good news. Don't worry, you won't have to talk with him." Before she leaves, Musica holds out an arm, careful not to let her claws show.

"I decided that I want to go back to the tunnels before your friend wakes up." Emotions are a fickle thing. Logically Musica knows this is the best solution. While the adult—Lucas—is distracted with his best friend, the two demons will sneak out without him ever knowing about what they actually are. Even though that she wants to be here to see the human wake up, Musica knows that this is best for not only her and Sung-Joo's safety but also for Lucas's sanity. He would never feel safe again in the shelter.

Musica would have left, too, if Sung-Joo wasn't being stubborn about leaving. "Wait, what? You're leaving, now?" These conflicting emotions are only growing worse standing in the same room as these humans. Why does this have to be so hard?

Clenching her fists, Musica wills herself to stay calm. "Well, I know I should leave. This shelter is not for demons." Those words don't sound as sure as Musica thought they would. The longer she stays here, the more Musica wants to stay. "But Sung-Joo wants to be there when the human wakes up. To say goodbye." After stalling a little bit, Musica says, "And I may or may not want to be with the human a little longer, too."

Saying those words calms the turmoil that had been rolling around inside her head. Even the strong scent of Lucas's distress doesn't dampen her mood as much.

Emotions are a fickle thing. Logically, Musica should leave the shelter. It would help make the humans feel more secure if they never learn of Musica and Sung-Joo's presence in the shelter. Staying here threatens Lucas's sanity and well-being. She will only get even closer to these humans, which will only put their lives in more danger.

Logically, leaving is the best action to take. Logically, staying is the worst action to take. But not everything has to be logical. Right?

Musica does feel a lot better after saying those words. Her heart swells with the idea of staying with this big, warm family for longer than she had previously thought. Until she sees Gilda's smirk. A sense of dread washes over the demon. "Oh, you so like him." It takes a moment for what Gilda said to sink in, and then Musica's happy that the hood covers most of her face for her face flushes red. "Admit it! Staying because you want to see Mister wake up? Come on, that screams love!" Now Gilda's the one becoming more and more excited at the other's expense, waving her hands around and her voice growing louder.

"T-That's not true!" Musica covers her face in embarrassment despite the hood covering her face. Thankfully the sleeves hide her claws rather well. "Don't say stuff like that out loud, Gilda."

"But it's true and you know it! You like Mister!" Suddenly Musica can't take it anymore. She regrets ever saying anything to Gilda. Unsure what to do, the demon decides to flee with Gilda at her heels.

Perhaps the logical solution is the best solution.

And that's it! Sorry for the long wait, I just couldn't get to writing this after getting Dark Souls for the first time. You know, I've gotten pretty good at it. At least, I think so. It's easier to fight the bosses, at least. Between Dark Souls and music, I haven't found the time to really write out this chapter and flesh it out more.

Not to mention that I'm having other story ideas for this. It will take some time, especially with Dark Souls as a thing I can do, but I think that I will be able to publish my ideas. Yay. More than one story.

Anyways, hopefully I'll be able to write faster and flesh out the characters a lot more. Until then, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Again, sorry for the long wait and sucky chapter, but I'm going to really try and do this faster and better. Thanks for being reasonable, I guess.