The first inklings of light had woken her, sleep so thin that it hadn't added any weight of rest to her eyelids. Soul had been nothing more than a motionless blob of bedding, leaving her without interruption to fix her bindings. Somewhere after midnight, she'd been able to unwind herself, but it didn't do much for the discomfort. While Star had made it very clear she wasn't exactly amply bosomed, her skin still itched under the wrap and her chest ached when finally given its room. None of that added to her restfulness, forcing Maka out of the bedding and up for another round of snooping.

In the grey morning light, Maka made her way across the courtyard towards the main house. Other signs of life were missing– lanterns still out as only dawn lit her way along the side of the building. She counted rooms, trying to create a map in her mind of the space that she would mentally fill with people over the next few days. Star was most likely right about his observations of the place, but there was no chance her pride would allow her to admit that now.

With her grudge held firm, she spied the first bit of firelight glowing from a crack in a screen. She softened her footsteps, nothing more than toe taps now against the side of the wall to keep the boards from creaking.

The high voice of a child started in an unintelligible murmur, along with the gentle hush of a father. "It's not time yet," he chided gently, "so shut your eyes for a little longer."

Maka inched closer, catching a blonde head of hair peeking out from a tiny set of bedding, a little hand wrapped tightly in the leg of a hakama. "But Papa–" the head rose from the sheets, long golden curls bouncing free.

"Ah," the man cut her off. "I think you'll have your chance now, Reina." A hand shot into the space, jutting the slide the rest of the way open to uncover a tall, lithe man with hair greyed far too early for his unwrinkled face. "You're the new page."

Maka straightened. "I'm sorry, my lord. I was– you're the only light on, so I–"

The man waved his hand at the excuses before turning back into the room. "Come in. You've been anticipated." As he moved back towards the desk he opened the lantern, further basking the stark room in it's glow. The bedding and the child were the only bit of domesticity the space offered– the rest of the shelves littered with bottles and tins, tinctures and vials.

"Hello!" The blonde child—what Maka could assume was a girl from the length of her hair—cried as she jumped excitedly from the bed.

"Hello," Maka answered back softly, her eyes darting between the little one and the man who was now sitting with his back towards her, hunched again over his work.

"I'm Reina! Mama said your name is Masao." She was gathering her bedding in her arms, hugging it as if she were giving it the same greeting.

"Yes." Maka couldn't help but smile at the little face bursting with inquisitiveness. "It's nice to meet you."

That brought a beaming grin to Reina's face until her eyebrows exploded in surprise. "Oh! I have a gift!"

The man chuckled, bringing Maka's eyes to him momentarily before returning to watch the little girl rummage through the blankets. "You didn't have to, Reina…"

"No! Mama says it's nice." She nodded to herself as she finally located the small, blue charm. "It's a ya-ya-" The girl turned her head, pulling on the man's hakama.

"Yakuyoke," he murmured as he dipped his head towards her.

"Yakuyoke!" Reina exclaimed as she offered it up to Maka.

Maka took the charm, but still felt the chill creep up her spine as she studied the careful stitching. A charm against evil. She focused on that sweet, smiling face. Does she think he's a monster too?

"Mama says that the other pages got too scared. I hang this over my bed when I'm scared, so you can too!" Reina nodded with all the surety in the world before turning her attention back to her father. "Right, Papa?"

The man glanced down again, eyes soft, but his words were tinted with a jaggedness that grated down the back of Maka's spine. "Your mother's too kind." Warmth drained away as his seafoam eyes snapped to her face. "I'm Franken, the physician. You'll come here once a week to pick up his medicine. Though I assume you may be coming back earlier than that. He's been increasing his usage."

An increase? "Is my lord ill?" Maka hoped that the innocent widening of her eyes was enough to excuse the inquisitiveness.

"You would assume taking medicine means one is sick," Franken offered as a wisp of a smile started in the corner of his lips.

Foolish of me to assume that would work… Maka just stopped her eyes from rolling before nodding bitterly. "My lord is rather thin…"

The man in no way gnashed at the bait, instead letting appraising eyes tick over her features. "'Masao,' you said?"

"Yes, sir…" The glare that continued to creep over her left Maka feeling raw.

"Would you say…" that smile continued to twitch upwards, teeth starting to gleam around thin lips "... that you look more like your father or your mother?"

A trickle of ice water slid along her spine. "I-I don't know what you mean."

"Simple." Franken reached down his hand, gently fiddling with the curls of Reina's hair as she waited patiently while her father spoke. "There are children who take on the physical qualities of only their father or only their mother– as your lord does." He flashed a quick smile at his daughter before coming back to Maka with all teeth. "Then there are others who sit perfectly in the middle, like Reina. Marie's beautiful curls and my eyes. A happy medium. Perhaps just like you?"

"I…" The answer was easy—sitting on her tongue as it had been chanted a million times by her papa—but this was too much like the mouse cornered by the adder. "My parents are both dead, sir."

"Pity." His face didn't echo the sentiment, instead saturated with amusement. "But even the dead have faces, don't they Masao?" He left the question to weigh down her gut as he turned affectionate eyes to his daughter. "Reina, your mother should be in the kitchen by now. Why don't you make sure Masao gets to her?"

Reina jumped to task, her little hand instantly grasping Maka's. "Come on, Masao!"

She could only hesitate for a moment as she tried to catch the eyes that had torn her apart. Maybe it was a simple question, but—her mother's flaxen hair flashed over her mind—why do I get the feeling that an answer will never be simple with you?


"And what are you doing awake, little lady?" Marie was already turned with her hands on her hips as they entered, glare focused on her daughter who pulled the new page steadily by the hand.

"Papa sent me with Masao!" A whine curled the end of the name.

Her hands relaxed to her side with a sigh as she lifted her eyes to Masao. "I'm sorry for the trouble."

"None at all." The page smiled in reply. "She's very sweet."

Reina's batting lashes moved to her mother as if to spell out the gentle 'I told you so…' that wasn't allowed to leave her lips.

"And now that you've brought Masao here for breakfast, you can be off to the temple with the other children!" Marie waved her hands as if wafting away steam, but a stubborn wrinkle in that little brow greeted her instead.

"Can I help Masao deliver breakfast?" Reina blinked her seafoam eyes, trying to break barriers that withered in the face of such innocence.

Marie let out a long, fluctuating sigh. "If Masao tells me that you bothered the lord for even one second, it'll be–"

"I won't!" she chimed before jumping to help her mother. Her age didn't seem to hinder her assistance; Reina moving just as skillfully in complete mimicry of Marie. It wasn't as if the spread was so extravagant either, just boiled, lifeless chicken next to bowls of white rice. With the tray sparsely arranged, Reina waved Masao over.

Just as Masao's fingers clutched the side, Marie's hand fell on the grip. "If she bothers him at all–"

"Mama!" Reina whined.

Marie rolled her eyes before leaning closely to whisper, "Just shoo her away as soon as you can."

Masao's nod came laced with hesitation as the little girl's eyes focused on him.

"Alright, then go–" Marie urged as she made sure to pinch at the apple of her daughter's cheek. There was a short grunt of anguish before Reina turned away, leading Masao on the journey out the door. Her hands settled back to her hips as she watched them disappear. "Oh, that girl is such trouble…"


"Shiro-chan!"

Soul blinked his eyes open to focus on the ceiling. Reflex brought his hand to the mask next to the bed and draped it over his face.

"Shiro-chan–" came the musical call again.

Under the line of the mask, his lips curved into a smile. He rolled onto his stomach just in time for the footsteps to start behind the screen.

"Your breakfast is here!"

He playfully hummed an affirmative.

"Are you even awake?" A little cheek pressed against the paper of the divide.

"Maybe…" he murmured.

"You're so lazy, Shiro-chan!" The chiding sounded just like her mother, leaving Soul chuckling to himself as he poked the screen near the outline until the face jerked away.

"Just leave it, Reina."

"You're not coming out?" The forlorn drift of her words pulled at him, but without the pipe he stayed put, only reaching towards one of the other boxes by his bed.

"No, but I have my payment." He lifted the lid of his mother's lacquer box, fiddling until he found the perfect one. He dragged himself on his elbows slightly, getting far enough that he could just reach the edge of the screen. Delicately, he placed the pale green stone against the mat, watching as the rising sun caught the light blue specks that winked from its curves.

"Another one!" The victorious squeal left him grinning again as tiny fingers reached to grab the treasure he'd left behind. "I love it, Shiro-chan!" A quick flash of blonde hair dared to grace the edge of the divide.

"Your mama said not to bother him," Masao's voice snuck in firmly, suddenly reminding Soul of the other life in the room.

"I have my mask on," Soul replied as he leaned on his elbow to lounge.

Masao's sigh—a sound that Soul found was quite often around for him to sample—resounded.

"Reina," he called.

Instead of just the straw colored hair it was those beautiful pale green eyes that shone around the edge, the sight just stopping before her lips.

Soul offered her a smile.

"Thank you." Her own grin barely peeked back at him.

He only nodded.

Masao's throat cleared to break the silence. "Reina, I think it's time you went to the temple."

The sweet face disappeared before the footsteps sounded again. "Good bye, Masao! Take care of Shiro-chan!"

Soul rolled onto his back, a bit of contentment pulling at the corner of his lips until Masao's voice started again. "My lord."

"What is it?"

While he had braced himself for idiotic fear—more of that mewling panic that had sprouted from so many pages before—a gentle laugh filled the room. "Shiro-chan?"

He bristled. He's laughin' at me. "What about it?"

"It's–"

Soul sat up quickly, ready to bark and bite.

"–adorable. I suppose you gave her the same 'my lord or you there' speech and she just…" Light giggles stole the rest away until a harsh clearing of Masao's throat destroyed the rest.

He's laughin', but… Soul squinted as if that would bring Masao into some clear view through the screen. That wasn't cruel, was it? Or… He shook his head. "She's a child."

"Child or no, I've never heard of a stuffy lord letting anyone call him a pet-name."

"It makes her happy." His hand grasped as if he could catch the explanation before he freed it. The color crept up his cheeks, burning a line there that made him turn away regardless of the layers between them that would hide his shame.

The silence that blossomed afterward made it worse, the heat starting to sting at his collar. Masao cleared his throat again. "Maybe you should eat, my lord."

He touched quickly to his mask, assuring its placement before he stood slowly. As soon as he reached the engawa, Masao came into view as he sat next to the tray. When their eyes met, Soul couldn't help but catch the odd flicker like lampfire against the jade. He wanted to blame it on the sun that was still steadily rising, but as Masao held his glare, it did nothing but twinkle again. Even as he sat and tore his eyes away to his food, that reflection kept playing in the back of his mind.


Marie fiddled her fingers in her apron as she took long strides down the hall. She had eyes steadily prepared for a roll, irritation nibbling at the back of her mind to be ordered from the kitchen by her daughter dutifully following Papa's request. She stopped at the threshold, seeing the familiar slump to his shoulders.

"Come in and close the door."

"Franken, I have to get started on lunch soon…" Regardless of the complaint she still followed his directions, sliding the screen and trespassing the distance to his desk.

All of her annoyance carried carefully from the kitchen to here fluttered away as soon as Franken lifted his head to display eyes lacking that usual cat-and-mouse shine. Amusement wasn't lingering, just heavy thought. "The last we knew, Spirit was alive."

"Spirit?" Marie withered slightly against the desk as the nostalgia of the name tugged at her. "Well, that was… fifteen years ago? Longer since we saw him, but…" She was grasping at the ends of strings that slithered over the back of her mind.

He waited, letting a hand wrap around her wrist to pull her a step closer.

"Sid would have sent word, too, don't you think?" Marie finally clutched to a thought. "What made you think of him?"

"The page," Franken answered.

"Masao?"

He chuckled, his fingers starting a journey towards her elbow in a soft glide over eager skin. "Eyes that green are rare, and they look the same, don't you think?"

Marie's narrowed in reply. "Says the man with green eyes."

That brought his usual devilish grin. "Which our daughter got from me. Just as I'm fairly sure I remember Rin's little girl having green eyes just like her father."

"Yes, Rin and Spirit had a daughter…" Marie corrected, but any authority in it drifted uselessly as he continued to smirk. "And I assume you're going to say 'And doesn't Masao strike you as a little too delicate of a man?'"

"I wouldn't dare steal your observation." Franken casually leaned against the desk, his chin resting in his palm. "Last night you commented on it."

Marie had no fight to give in the face of her own words tossed back all too easily.

"Are you against me sending a letter?" he inquired with a gentle raise of his eyebrows.

"You already did, I'm sure," she muttered but still clutched tighter to his fingers. "But that means… I wonder if Masao will be able to save him any more than we have."