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Special Thanks To Xx. Envy Wrath .Xx, EyesofTCN, Crimson .light .of .Death, Anonymous Reviewer and Variation on Ink (Sorry to those who had added space in their usernames, if I don't put the space, it won't show your name TAT) and all of those who faved or subscribed :D

I'm so sad. Ink is not beta-ing anymore! She is extremely busy. Well, thank you for beta-reading all those chapters before. Thank you very much!

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Desdemona sat in the royal red armchair beside her bed and looked out the window. Her left elbow rested on an armrest while her right hand played with her necklace. The soft glow of the rising sun shone through the window, casting warm highlights to the objects in her room. There wasn't much, just a small wardrobe, a chair, a bedside table and a bed. Fortunately, her room was one of the few that had a private bathroom, the others had to share a bathroom between two rooms. It was quite small, with a small shower, washing basin, toilet and a mirror. This room had been her home for two years.

The sun continued to rise, although slowly, but unexpectedly fast at the same time. Before she knew it, the soft glow became a bright, strong light.

After running around on different missions non-stop for so long, Desdemona finally got a day off. During which, she would rather be more productive than sitting around doing nothing.

Desdemona stood up and stretched. A good night's sleep was much appreciated. She turned around and started to assemble her usual attire. First, she leaned down and slipped her bandaged feet into her heavy boots. The bandages were there not because she was hurt; it was to prevent injuries caused by the weights on her ankles. She then picked up her black belt from the end of her neatly made bed, it had a special holster for Thora that can come off to leave a normal belt. She keeps it on for the sake of convenience. She threaded the leather into the belt loops at the waistband of her black pants. On her bedside table was Thora, lounging lazily in front of her bedside clock.

Desdemona stood there smiling at the whip. Whips remind her of a very important person. It was such a coincidence that her Innocence takes on the shape of that particular weapon. She was attached. It seemed alive and conscious. Very possibly it was what all exorcists feel with their Innocence, didn't Allen say something like the Innocence showed his mind how to operate his new weapon? Talking about that boy…

Ever since she was informed that Allen was indeed the one she had sworn to kill, he never dared to face her again. Truthfully speaking, she never really planned on "killing" the one making those horrid noises. It was just the moment of exhaustion and annoyance that made her so irritable and impatient. Every time she saw him walking down the corridor to his room, which was next to hers, he would turn around immediately and walk away, looking pretty purposeful. But after so many times he had done that, she was sure he was just avoiding her.

She wasn't that scary, was she?

Maybe she threw him all the way across the public laboratory, causing him to crash into a shelf of books which in turn caused him to be buried under a newly formed paper mountain and then took many efforts to dig him back out again…

But it wasn't that bad, right?

The black-haired girl scratched the back of her head. Her hair was out, falling straight down her back. She ran her right hand through her hair, untangling some knots. She looked again to the tabletop. Something was missing. She knelt down on the floor, trying to locate her black ribbon used as a hair tie; it would usually drop to the floor between the bed and the table. She continued to search, but the black ribbon was nowhere to be found. She stood up straight and sighed. That was her only one, what was she going to do?

There were only two people in the Headquarters that have spare hair ties, Lenalee and Kanda. Lenalee was probably somewhere making coffee for the Science Department. Kanda's also somewhere, probably training in the forest…unless he was called out for a mission, again. He wouldn't give her one anyway. Even though he doesn't state it directly and always claims to wash his hair with soap, everyone knows that he is actually pretty fussy with his hair.

Her best bet would be Lenalee, she already has four on her head, she is friendly and not a jerk, like someone. She could be easily found and was overall a better choice.

She threw on the rest of her cloths, another white shirt and her uniformed coat. She happened to have a free and unlimited supply of shirts from a dress-maker in the nearby town. He was very supportive and offered to supply shirts for Desdemona after she commented how comfortable they are to move in. Some way or another, the dress-maker happened to make his connections into the Church and became a desginated dress-maker for Order's clothing needs. He was very thankful to Desdemona, seeing how she unknowingly made him a fortune. Desdemona don't get it, how come she always becomes a medium of advertisement?

Desdemona walked into her small bathroom and looked into the mirror. The silver cross on her uniform was slightly tilted, she adjusted it to make it straight. By wearing this cross, she was using her own life as a bait to lure out the invisible enemies, to save a civilization that found joy in hurting each other. Irony.

The Eurasian girl walked out from her room, closing the door gently behind her. She headed towards Public laboratory, where she might be able to find Lenalee and get a ribbon from her.

Walking down the familiar corridors and stairs of the Headquarters, she remembered how, 2 years ago, she was so confused and lost in this maze of hallways that she was unable to return to her room.

An eleven year old Desdemona ran through the streets of London. A dirty, over-sized white shirt hung on her small frame. A heavy brown vest was worn over the shirt. A pair of brown pants clung to her skinny legs. Her long black hair was tucked under a flat cap. At first glance, many would mistaken her as a boy.

The Eurasian girl looked around for a worthy target. Throughout the morning, she had already stolen 12 wallets, 4 pocket watches: 3 of silver, 1 of gold and some rich woman's ring. So much for being Friday the 13th, her luck hasn't been affected one bit. Her highly refined and polished skills in this line of work was the result of almost three years of observation and learning. She only started doing this to stay alive after leaving that place, which was even before she came to Chapman's Horse Rental.

Mr. and Mrs Chapman, they were very generous people. They owned a family Horse Rental business that was passed down through 4 generations and was quite highly reputed in London. Until one day, when a rich man came and demanded to rent Tempest. Shiny, black, purebred Arabian stallion. However, he was newly bought, bad tempered and untrained. Despite the Chapman's warnings of the dangers of an amateur riding on an untrained horse, the stubborn man still insisted on renting Tempest. He ended up dead. That incident sent the Chapman's reputation plummeting down. Rumour was that every horse from Chapman's Rental was crazy and will kill you if you get on their backs (which was thoroughly untrue). People stopped renting from them.

When Desdemona arrived, the Chapmans only had 4 horses left, the rest were all sold. Tempest (no one wanted to buy him, despite the ridiculously low price the Chapmans offered him at), Aneira (the most beautiful white Arabian mare Desdemona has ever seen. The Chapmans loved her too much to sell her.), Lancelot (Strong, well-built Andalusian stallion. Was apparently the direct descendant of a race-winning stallion of Mr. Chapman's great-grandfatherfs time.) and Sebastian (Lancelot's aging father. Too old to be sold for any purpose. Plus, Mrs. Chapman was somehow attached to it.) To repay their favour of taking her in, Desdemona decided to help the Chapmans. She would, just like today, roam the town and pick-pocket as many rich-looking men and women as possible. The Chapm ans knew she was earning money, because she always brought money back and gave it to them, but they didn't know how she earned it. She only told them she was working somewhere.

As she paced down a street next to the canal, Desdemona suddenly spotted her next target. There, walking on a bridge connecting the two sides of the canal, was a tall and beautiful woman with vibrant blonde hair. What made her stand out from the crowd was her outfit; the rich, black material lined with pure gold. Desdemona's trained eyes instantly saw how valuable that coat alone was. She started tailing the target.

As she neared, she noticed a small white ball of fluff with a tail coming out sitting on the woman's shoulder. What's that? A monkey? Never mind that, she had to get something off her and that's it. She scanned the woman for visible signs of any valuables that she might be able to get her hands on.

As Desdemona's eyes travelled down the coat to the pocket, a victorious grin appeared on her face. That woman, whoever she is, could not have made her work any easier. There, in her pocket, was a large leather wallet that was sticking out from the top.

She can get her hands on anything from anyone's possession, even the tiniest of penny from a man's front pocket of his trouser. A huge wallet sticking out from the side pocket? No problem!

She followed the woman, keeping a distance so that she wouldn't get noticed. It was easy, that flashy coat is unmistakeable. The woman headed for the town centre. Desdemona grinned. The town centre was crowded with people; it would not have been a better environment for pick-pocketing.

The woman stopped in front of a grocery stall. Vegetable crates lied around everywhere, and on the counter, there was a black telephone. Desdemona, about 3 metres from the stall, looked around to check if any others were also marking this woman. Undoubtedly, another boy in her line of profession stood at the end of an alleyway across on the other side of the road. Desdemona's eyes trailed back to the woman, who was talking to the stall keeper about using the telephone.

Suddenly, the boy ran. The young girl paid attention to his every move, dreading for his success. The boy innocently ran across the road, seemingly very excited and looked back over his shoulder, not paying attention to where he was going. He bumped straight into the woman, the impact made him rebound back a meter or two. Then, fairly dramatically, he started crying. The woman turned around to see what had bumped into her. When she saw a crying 10 year old sitting on the floor behind her, she turned around and leaned down to comfort the boy.

During that time, Desdemona blended naturally in with the onlookers and neared the target, she watched the boy carefully. It's a race of speed; whoever gets it first gets it. It is, shall we say, etiquette of the community of pick-pocketers.

Much to the boy's dismay, the woman's hand travelled to her pocket and took out her wallet before he could make any move. Pick-pockets are not robbers, they don't confront the target face on, it's too dangerous. The woman gave the boy a few coins before he got up and ran away.

There's still a chance for Desdemona. The woman stood up, put her wallet back into her pocket, the top still sticking out. She returned to the counter and something bat-like flew out from her coat. It attached itself to the telephone line and the woman picked up the phone to speak.

Now's her chance! Desdemona strolled casually towards the vegetable stall. She kept her eyes on the wallet. This heist would be easy. She walked slowly and when she was really close, her right hand lifted swiftly and grabbed onto the wallet. She quickly but gently pulled on the wallet. Her steady hands careful to not make any mistakes.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, the white fluff ball appeared in her line of sight. Then soon after, a sharp pain shot through the side of her right hand. Damn it! Stupid monkey.

The teeth sank into her flesh, keeping her hand where it was, clear evidence of her attempted stealing. Another hand grabbed Desdemona around her right wrist. The woman turned around and stared down at Desdemona.

The girl cursed inside her head, now there was nowhere to run. She was hardly ever caught, and was never sent to the police station in her life. She lifted her head up and met the woman's gaze straight on. Her ego forbade her from looking away. Desdemona took in the woman's appearance. Blue eyes as vibrant as her hair, both contradicting yet complementing each other. Huge burn marks emerged from beneath the long fringe that covered the right side of her face.

It's funny how she always bumps into little boys today, it was Friday the 13th after all, The woman was quite surprised when a pair of piercing onyx eyes met hers. This little boy's eyes shone of determination, while it was penetrating at the same time. Considering the situation, he was at a disadvantage here. The female general was a bit amused. That look, she knew it. It was the same look animals give to threaten others. Her old beast taming years did not go to waste, she summoned her own intense glare to return to the boy.

Desdemona maintained her gaze, when the woman gave an intense glare of her own, the girl did not waver. After analysing the woman's face, Desdemona thought the woman was quite beautiful. The monkey tightened its jaws; some blood trickled down the side of Desdemona's hand and dripped off from her wrist. She felt the pain, but failed to react to it. Instead, she tightened her grip on the wallet.

The General felt the tightening of grip through his thin wrist. This boy has guts. She was quite impressed…or maybe this child was just plain stupid…

"Lau." The woman stated firmly. The monkey instantly released its jaws, removing its teeth from Desdemona's flesh and returned to sit on its master's shoulder. The girl released the wallet, the black leather dropped to the floor. The women didn't release Desdemona's wrist.

The woman smiled slightly, but questioned in a superior tone, "What do you think you are doing?"

"Whatever you think I am doing," the girl said, no matter how she is caught in action, she would never convict herself.

The General was again, surprised. This is no boy! Standing before her was, in fact, a little girl. Without hearing her voice, the General would have never known that. "You have guts, girl. Why are you doing this?"

"Is there a reason for surviving?" Desdemona retorted.

The woman raised an eyebrow, "Who are you?"

"That doesn't concern you."

The General was amused. She liked this girl, whoever she is. She has a strong personality. "What's your name?"

"..."

"I am Klaud Nine. General of the Black Order." General Klaud released her grip on Desdemona's wrist. The girl pulled her hand back and held her left hand to her injured right hand.

"Never heard of it." Logically, she should be running for her life, but it was sort of useless. Onlookers have literally surrounded them, there's no opening to run through.

General Klaud "hm"-ed in amusement. A general's job was to find and locate Innocence hosts, it was also to find more human resource for the Order. With this girl's ability to come and go unseen in small alleyways of London, she would be a great information source. The General bent down so that she was at the same level as the girl. "I believe you do not wish to be sent to the police station. No?"

"Are you offering me a choice?" the girl replied warily. She doesn't like owing people; they can use it against her. She also doesn't like to be caught, since it can also be used against her, forcing her to either do something for them or be thrown in jail.

"Very quick thinking. Yes, indeed, I am offering you a choice. But it will be nothing that will put you to a disadvantage. In fact, this is an opportunity I am offering here. It will be greatly beneficial to you. So what do you say?"

"I want to know exactly what it is."

"Very well. This opportunity, if you accept it, will allow you to not worry about "survival", as you put it, any longer. I want you to come with me to France."

"To France? That is a long way away!" The first thought that popped into Desdemona's mind was Tempest, then Franz and Margret and the Chapman's Horse Rentals. What will be of them if she left? They would, first of all, be worried. If she doesn't support them financially, they might have to sell the stables. Survival, she wasn't doing this for her own survival only, the survival of many others were also dependent on her success.

After further thought, she concluded that it would be much more likely to continue supporting Chapman's Horse Rental if she went with this General Klaud. Well, France is an unknown territory, but compare the unknown to the definite zero chance in prison. She'd much rather bet on it, she had nothing else to worry about. One good thing about being poor is that when offers as such are presented, you don't need to worry about whether this stranger is kidnapping you.

For the moment, she won't tell the woman of the Chapmans.

"So? What's your answer?" General Klaud prompted.

"Yes," Desdemona answered, "I will go with you to France."

A smile graced the General's lips. "Meet me here in 3 days, I have some things to take care of beforehand." The General stood up, turned around, put a few coins on the vegetable stall's counter and started walking away.

Desdemona followed after the woman with her eyes. Suddenly, the woman stopped and looked back. "So now will you tell me your name?"

Desdemona raised her eyebrows, "Desdemona."

The woman smiled and walked away.

It was an unusual occurrence, she never failed at stealing anything from anyone, as long as they carried it on them she can definitely get it. If she hadn't targeted Master, hadn't underestimated Lau, hadn't persisted when the anonymous boy moved first, she wouldn't be here today. All those 'coincidental' events lock together in an unbreakable bond that forms the today as it is. Some call it fate.

Desdemona walked down the last flight of stairs that leads to the public laboratory. Those paper-works never seem to diminish in quantity. In fact, it was quite the opposite. The mountainous landscape was growing by the day. Numerous scientists were sleeping on their face on their desks that were filled with paper. Most scientists were hidden from view by the tall towers of paper. The few moving around were carrying stacks of paper. Those without paper were nonexistent.

Nonexistent until Desdemona spotted the dark-haired girl in the exorcists' uniform. Lenalee was carrying a tray with a few mugs of coffee, distributing them to the sleepy Scientists. A white head bobbed up and down, following behind Lenalee. Allen was also carrying a tray of coffee. That boy will go away soon; he was avoiding her wasn't he?

Lenalee, yes, Lenalee was the one she need to talk to right now, to borrow a hair tie. Desdemona started towards Lenalee and Allen, tripping on a pile of unseen objects. She recovered herself immediately and looked back only to see a fallen stack of books. She ran a hand through her hair from the front to keep back some rebellious strands of hair from obscuring her vision. She really needed a hair tie.

Allen put down the last mug from his tray onto the paper-filled desk of Johnny, the said scientist was sleeping on his face on another pile of paperwork. Lenalee shook his shoulders, gently at first but became rougher as the gentle shakes were not enough to wake him. The white-haired boy felt an approaching person and turned around to see…the person he least wanted to see, Desdemona. For some reason her hair was out. Without it being tied up, it looked much longer than usual. The long black hair now reached down to her lower back. But no matter whether or not her hair was tied up, it doesn't change the fact that this girl may be homicidal.

Desdemona walked straight past Allen and went up to Lenalee. "Lenalee," she said, "Can I borrow a hair tie? I lost mine."

Allen put the empty tray under his left arm and was about to escape when…

"Allen!" Lenalee called out, the boy stiffly turned around to see both girls looking at him. One was smiling, the other was just uninterested.

"Can you give these coffees out while I go get something from my room?" Lenalee requested, handing Allen over her tray of mugs. Allen unwillingly accepted the tray and walked away quickly to hand out more mugs.

The Eurasian exorcist followed the movements of the boy with her eyes. When her gaze returned to Lenalee, the elder exorcist was gone.

Desdemona spun around to see the Chinese exorcist heading up the stairs leading to the exorcists' dormitory. "Wait! Lenalee! I'll come with you!" she called to Lenalee while trying to catch up with the elder female.

Lenalee looked back. She smiled and replied, "No, it's ok. Stay here and wait, I'll go get it for you." She continued up the stairs and disappeared into a hallway.

Desdemona stood there and stared at the hallway Lenalee disappeared into. Just standing there was too awkward. She looked around for somewhere to sit, but could not locate a single unoccupied chair; most of them were buried under paper. Instead of locating a chair, Desdemona located Allen trying to juggle trays of mugs. He balanced the tray Lenalee just gave him on his left hand, his empty tray under his left arm. In his right hand, he was holding a mug of coffee. The heavy metal tray was slipping out from under his arm and he was trying to keep it from falling by supporting it with his right forearm. The smooth material of his dress shirt was only making it worse. He managed to secure the slipping tray but ended up in an awkward position where he can no longer move, otherwise, the rest of the coffee will tip out.

Desdemona walked behind Allen and grabbed onto the slipping tray before gently pulling it out from his grasp. Allen panicked at first, thinking the tray was slipping further. When he looked over his shoulder, he saw the Eurasian girl was the one pulling on it. Allen moved his elbow away from his body to allow Desdemona to get it out.

When the burden of the tray was lifted entirely off the white-haired exorcist, he turned around to face the homicidal girl for the first time in nearly a month. Unaware of his left hand, during his turn, the corner of the tray hit against Desdemona's upper arm. Some contents of the mugs spilled out.

"Ah! I'm sorry!" Allen apologized.

"Doesn't matter."

He quickly turned to the side and lowered the tray and the mug on a desk before anything more disastrous happens. Seeing as there was no free space on the desk, he just dumped the tray on top of the paper. He quickly turned back to face the girl.

"Um…Thank you." Allen thanked uncertainly while scratching the back of his head.

"Don't worry about it."

Awkward silence…

"What do I do with this?" Desdemona asked, she lifted the metal tray to indicate the subject matter.

"Oh. I'm not sure, Lenalee gave it to me," Allen confessed. He watched as the girl surveyed the area for any free table space to lower the tray but soon gave up. Remembering he still had a tray of coffee to distribute, Allen whirled around and picked up his tray.

"I'll help." She lifted a few of mugs from the tray and put them onto the tray she was holding. While she was doing that, Allen studied her face, her expression, her eyes, for any signs of anger.

There was none.

She walked away to start giving those out to the various overworked Scientists.

Allen stood there idiotically, staring after the girl. He didn't understand. One second she was murderous, the next she was helpful.

Lenalee reappeared from the hallway, holding a small pack of hair ties in her hand. She came down the stairs and looked around for signs of Desdemona, but found none. She only saw Allen standing there, unmoving, with a tray of mugs on his hand, staring into thin air. She went up to Allen and tapped his shoulder. The white-haired boy jumped, nearly spilling the coffee and turned around to find Lenalee with an amused expression.

"Hey, Allen," Lenalee began, "where did Dem go off to?"

Allen let out a long relieved sigh, "Lenalee, please don't scare me like that." He wiped some sweat from his forehead to emphasize the point. "Dem? She's there." Allen said, he pointed a finger to a mountain range of paper sitting on top of multiple desks. At the foot of those mountains, was Desdemona, with another tray of coffee.

"Dem!" Lenalee called out.

The girl looked towards the source of the voice and saw Lenalee, finally returned from her trip to her room. She walked back towards the two other exorcists. As Desdemona came near, Lenalee extended her free hand to take the tray back. The Eurasian girl lowered the tray onto the waiting hand. "Thanks," Lenalee said, she also gave Desdemona the small pack of hair ties. "I have lots of those, you should just take the whole pack rather than one. They get lost easily." The kind exorcist gave a warm smile.

"Thank you." Desdemona smiled back. "I have a day off, do you need any help?"

"Ah! Yes! I'm glad you offered. There's another tray over there," Lenalee gestured to the corner of the room where a small coffee stand was, "If you can give those out it would be much appreciated. And also, can you please gather up some empty mugs so I can wash them up afterwards? Thank you."

"No, I'll wash them."

Desdemona helped Lenalee for most of the day. Later, she found out the small pack of hair ties was all elastic bands. Being one to always have used ribbons, she had no idea how to tie her hair with elastic bands. Lenalee ended up tying her hair for her. Desdemona took note on how to use them for future conveniences.

Before she knew it, a whole day had passed. So much for resting while she can. She was once again in her room. From her window now shone through the moonlight, illuminating the objects in her room with a silver glow. Desdemona walked to her window and looked out. It was a full moon tonight, no wonder it was so bright. She half-sat on the window sill and rested her head on the window frame. There were stars too.

Every star told a story, a sad story.

A voice, a phrase. All too familiar. Bidelia believed every star was the soul of a dead. Irony really, this whole Akuma business, her words can't be truer. Behind every pentacle, the creation of every akuma, a tragedy lies. Bidelia never meant it in that sense though.

If you feel sad, look up to the stars. They will remind you that you are not the only one suffering in this world. You are never alone.

If you are lost, look up to the stars, they will guide you through the darkness.

If you feel useless, look up to the stars, they will teach you that however small you are, you still shine, able to guide others through their own darkness.

If you ever doubt who you really are, look up to the stars. They will tell you that your being is not defined by who your family is, how you look, or what you do. You are not defined by how others see you. You are only defined by who you think you are, the choices you make, and the reason behind your existence.

Bidelia…Chase…

Back then, she felt sad, she felt lost, she felt useless and she doubted her reason to live. She took Bidelia's advice, she looked up to the stars. They told her of more than she ever thought they would.

It was then that she realized she was trying to look for something. To fulfill something that is unfulfilled. She doesn't know what that something is. She also wanted many answers. Answers to questions that she had never thought to ask. She doubt she can find what she was looking for. But the act of searching and to have something to search for serves enough purpose to keep living.

Maybe she will never find it.

But no matter, as long as she keeps going, she will get closer and closer to the answer.

B/N: After this chapter, I will be on a hiatus to get my life back on a smooth track. I promise I'll be back soon!

A/N: Yes, Ink is leaving me *sniff*… not in literal sense. But I'm like helpless now. Anyhow, we'll miss you, Ink! Wait, what am I saying? You are not leaving, you are just not beta-ing…Anyways, I'm not making any sense myself so you guys can just ignore my note for this chapter. Heretic week for me, seriously not logical anymore.

Review!

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