Author's Note: I do not own any of the characters/locations mentioned; that honor goes to Level 5, Studio Ghibli and Bandai. Just putting that out there in case anybody is hunting the site for copyright infringements...

This was actually the first sketch I did, though I am ordering my sketches by when they would occur in the game storyline. It was absolutely killing me that we cut out on Swaine sobbing over his dead father, then next we see him it is like nothing has happened and no one will talk about it. I thought that it would be unlike Oliver not to try and say something to make him feel better, but at the same time I knew (and in my mind, so did Oliver) that blunt is not good when dealing with Swaine. So, here's the conversation between the two of them as they prepare to return to their own time.

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Sketch 6: To the Future

The group began the trek back to the palace of Hamelin, Swaine leading as he always did in his hometown. The others held back, unsure of how to act towards him. They had passed a few days of mourning for the Emperor, during which Swaine (or, apparently "Prince Gascon") had not been seen. Since his return to the group, he acted as if nothing had happened. Still, for Oliver, Esther, and Drippy, it was hard to forget the image of him holding his dead father and sobbing...

"Ummm, Swaine?" Oliver called in a timid voice.

Oliver was not entirely sure how to do it, but he felt he had to say something, anything, after what his traveling companion had been through. Esther was convinced that they should drop it and leave it alone until Swaine was ready to talk, and even at that moment she was shooting Oliver not-so-subtle glances of disapproval. She was probably right, but it still seemed like pain that great had to be acknowledged. Swaine had to know that someone cared about what he had gone through, even if he wouldn't accept that vulnerable part of himself.

Upon hearing his name, Swaine did his best not to make a face, though on the inside he groaned. Here it came. He'd say something about feeling sorry for him, maybe some questions about why he'd been keeping secrets like that. Pity and/or prying; neither option was desirable and he had hoped against all hope that they would be avoided by sheer denial. Externally, he simply slowed his pace to fall alongside the boy and said nothing. He was relieved that Esther and Drippy kept a respectful distance in front.

"I don't think I ever told you why I came to this world to defeat Shadar in the first place, did I?"

"No, I suppose not," the rogue replied simply, unsure of where this conversation was going.

"Well, I...my mom died." He bit his lip and looked down. Even after all that time it was still the most difficult thing to admit. Slowly, evenly, he continued. "That's why I came to this world, to save her by saving her soul mate. She died right in front of me. I locked myself in my room and cried for three days straight. The only reason I ever left that room was because Mr. Drippy told me there was a way to bring her back. Mr. Drippy called me a Cry-Baby Bunting, and he was right; I didn't know what to do without her, so I did nothing but hide. I wish I had been strong like you, Swaine."

So that was what Oliver was getting at. Swaine didn't look up from the pavement, but he snorted. "Sounds like something the Lord High Lord of the Snarkies would say, doesn't it?" Still, despite the tone he took, he was confused. He wasn't strong; he had run away and hid for three days avoiding everyone so he wouldn't have to talk about it. Oliver couldn't mean that by voluntarily showing up two minutes ago he was somehow strong...

Oliver interrupted his thoughts as he continued. "That's not all. She actually died saving me when I did something...really stupid..." he murmured quietly. Swaine raised an eyebrow. "I wonder if she was disappointed in me for being so reckless. I wish she could see me now and know that I am stronger than I was then. That's part of why I want to see her again so much. I want her to be proud of me instead of seeing me as a kid who needs to be taken care of. I hope she...would be proud of me..." He trailed off.

He snorted again, shaking his head, but this time he looked over at Oliver. "And why wouldn't she be? I don't know how many people you'd saved before I met you, but I know for sure that you saved me. That's pretty good, I'd say." Underneath, he mentally smacked the kid for even suggesting that he had been a disappointment. Childhood shenanigans did not equal becoming a common criminal, no matter how hard Oliver tried to connect their experiences.

Oliver shook his head. "All I know is that it was the worst feeling in the world to lose someone so important like that." He looked Swaine dead in the eye with a look that was melancholy and sincere.

That's so like you, Oliver, to take the indirect approach. Don't just come out and say "Hey Swaine, I was orphaned at about the same age as you so I get it, he thought, amused. Really, though, Oliver had played it well. No pity, no prying, just understanding. True, his implied comparisons were quite a stretch, but for some reason, that didn't matter. From that round-about dialogue, he felt...a bit lighter, as if a burden had been lifted. For a moment, his expression became gentle. He set his hand on Oliver's shoulder. "I'm sorry. About your mom. But it'll be okay, you'll see." He then reached over and tousled his hair. "I'm not sure I understand it all yet, but we'll do whatever it takes to save her soul mate and get her back. Then you'll be together again, and she can see how far you've come for herself."

Oliver stopped. Had Swaine understood what he really meant by the conversation? It was always impossible to tell what he was thinking when he did not want it known.

Swaine noticed and stopped too, looking behind him. "Come on, we don't have time to think about that stuff now. We have to get Marcassin back to normal. Then, we'll need to learn some spells from him, and find the other Great Sage...there's a lot to do before we are ready to take down Shadar." His eyes narrowed upon uttering that name. The one who had broken his and Marcassin's hearts, who had killed their father. Foolish or not, he did not plan on letting him go without a fight; their jaunt to the past had made this very clear to him.

Oliver nodded and hurried to catch up. "Does that mean...you will stay with us once your br...once Marcassin...is better?"

"Is that all right with you?"

Oliver burst into a big smile that radiated from his heart. "I didn't really want you to leave anyway. I'd miss having you around."

The boy's response hit him square in the chest. For the first time in fifteen years, someone other than his brother... wanted him around? A dirty, penniless vagabond with a thief's hands? It took him a second to respond. "Good. I'll do whatever I can to help." He swallowed, trying to brush it off. "Now, we need to hurry. The sooner we fix Marcassin's heart, the better." Oliver nodded and set his eyes to the path ahead. Only then did he hear the words muttered under his friend's breath: "Thanks, kid." When he risked a glance out the corner of his eye, Swaine was looking ahead, but there was the faintest hint of a smile on his face. Though the missing piece of his heart had been restored some time ago, Oliver was relieved to see that Swaine's broken heart was finally starting to heal.