Disclaimer: Mine and Contra Mundi's characters.

Warnings: Spoilers for the end of the story, happy BL yay.

Epiphany: Noun. (i-pif-uh-nee) A sudden realization.

"Tempest!"

Arnen burst through his friend's front door, shouting her name once more. "Tempest! Get down here!" There was the sound of quick steps down wooden stairs until the light blonde rounded the corner and was standing in front of a quite livid-looking Arnen.

"Y-Yes?" she inquired, slighting cowering away from her friend, but it was useless as he grabbed her shoulders and shook her.

"How long have you known!?" he cried, looking like a complete crazy person. Nonetheless, she gave him a small smile, knowing full well what he meant.

"Only a few days, I promise," she replied sheepishly, at which point Arnen released her. Their gazes locked for a moment, Tempest looking amused and Arnen merely suffering from shock.

"…Really?" he asked, unsure of himself. There was a light thump and the two turned to see Eduard leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest and his expression terribly smug.

"Be nice, Arnen. Naturally I'd tell her and ask her not to tell you. I needed to check with someone to make sure marriage was a good idea."

Arnen bit his lip and turned back to Tempest, fairly pouting. She just smiled back. "Come now, Arnen. Try not to feel too left out. Eduard was just looking for a second opinion. It is a pretty big decision, after all." Her smile melted into a cheerful grin and she stood on her toes to kiss the top of Arnen's head. "You'll make him a happy man," she murmured against his hair, pulling him into a light embrace. The brunet felt a slight, defeated smile tug at his lips, and he returned the gesture.

"Thank you, Tempest," he said before pulling away. He turned back to his fiancé and smiled. Eduard smiled back; his eagerness, his cheer, everything about him… I love him so much it's pathetic, Arnen mused hopelessly.

Tempest spoke, pulling the brunet from his reverie. "I would be honoured if you two would allow me to plan your wedding!" The two men tore their gazes away from each other to look at the blonde, how was bowing in all her sincerity.

"Eh?" Eduard inquired.

"Your wedding," Tempest repeated, peeking up toward him. "I'd like to plan it."

Eduard blinked dumbly (and quite cutely) while Arnen glanced between the two. The twenty-one-year-old didn't mind; in fact, things would probably be a lot better with Tempest in charge. Despite that, if it wasn't alright with Eduard, Arnen would have to say no; he was more thankful than he could possibly describe to the redhead for everything good that had ever happened in his unfortunate existence, and he had unconsciously decided from the moment Eduard had reawoken that he would completely devote his entire being to the man he loved more than life itself.

"Well," Eduard said; Arnen looked up just in time to see his fiancé glance at him, "I think that's a great idea, actually. As long as Arnen does."

Arnen felt his lower lip quiver and bit it in defense. He looked down to the ground, hair covering his eyes and light pink dusting his cheeks. Eduard and Tempest looked at him worriedly.

"A-Arnen? Are you alright? It's okay, i-if you'd rather plan it yourself."

There was a moment of silence before Arnen said softly, "No… Eduard, that's exactly what I was thinking." A noticeable ellipse passed between the other two before Tempest broke the silence.

"Ah… Thank you two. I promise you it will pass without a hitch." Eduard shot her a reassuring smile.

"We know it will, Tempest." He turned to Arnen and held out a hand to him. "Should we get going, then?"

The brunet nodded and held onto his fiancé, allowing the twenty-eight-year-old to lead him out of the house with Tempest's goodbyes ringing distantly in the background.

Once outside, Eduard, ever the gentleman, opened the car door for his fiancé and gently helped him into the passenger's seat. For some reason Arnen seemed quite distracted. He's probably just thinking, Eduard told himself conversationally. The redhead sat down in front of the wheel and in moments was driving away. After a while, since no conversation seemed to be about to start, he glanced from the road to his absent partner. But, he hasn't looked this distracted since…

The redhead turned his gaze back to the road (what a shame it would be for him to get into a fatal accident right before his wedding just because he hadn't been paying attention!). No, Arnen hasn't been this distracted since the very first time...

It didn't seem right. He was so used to Arnen being a cute ten-year-old that romantic feelings seemed completely out of the question. Besides, Arnen hadn't turned fifteen all that long ago, either. Wouldn't that make it illegal? Eduard wasn't the type to do or say something that was bound to get him whacked; it had always been that way, and his system wasn't about to change.

But he also wasn't the type to deny the way he felt. He'd always been particularly caring toward Arnen, more so than anyone else. There had been his sister, whom he'd adored when they were young. He always felt warm inside to see her tripping lightly behind him in her Sunday dress, wishing to be a part of his life, wanting to learn from him. He took pride in teaching her everything he knew. She was his best friend.

Then, years later when he studied in France, he'd met Ana. There'd been such a likeness between the two, so much so that he wanted to become intimately close with her. He could still recall the warmth of her skin, the smell of lavender in her hair, her breath settling against his skin; a comfort to him. It had only been that one time, and though he'd thought it was really kind of gross, it was nice. But he didn't need it, and neither did she. So after, just as before, they continued to learn together and from each other, to talk to each other, to enjoy each other's society. As seemed to happen often with the people he cared about, though, eventually she was taken away. One day, he received word that she had died in a vehicle-related accident. He was never informed of a funeral service.

Without someone to care for, Eduard began to feel weak; useless. Even though he was fluent in French—though he'd lived in Paris for nearly nine years—he felt lost, unable to maneuver in that foreign place. He used all the money he had left and bought passage over the English Channel; he was going back to London.

Initially upon his return, he went to where he had lived as a child, but his sister and her mother had long since abandoned the house; his father was on his deathbed. To support himself, Eduard worked odd jobs around the city for nearly a year.

It must have been fate that he would walk down such an undistinguished street on that sunny autumn morning. There had been smoke rising from what looked to be the remains of a house. His curiosity was piqued; after all, there weren't any fire trucks nearby, nor could he hear sirens. What if someone had been caught in the devastation?

Eduard walked over to the ruins, wary of broken glass and wood and nails, and for a moment it didn't seem he would find anything. In fact, it was only by chance that he spotted the gleam of something white as he turned to leave. By Eduard's logic, if there was a fire destructive enough to take an entire (what seemed to be) two-story house down, anything that might have been brightly coloured would be completely covered with soot. Interested, he walked closer, stepping over what looked like it might've been a couch, and gave a slight gasp. There, among the skeletons of cabinets and plumbing, a small boy was lying unconscious.

The redhead rushed as well as he could around all the debris until he knelt before the child. The poor boy had streaks of dirt on his cheeks, washed away from the perspiration that plastered his hair to his forehead and the tears that streamed relentlessly down his face. There were numerous scratches along his arms, a bruise on his neck and forehead, and a reddened swelling in the shape of a hand on his cheek. The white he had seen was the otherwise deathly pale colour of the boy's face.

"What the hell happened to him?" Eduard wondered aloud. He didn't like it; something about the situation felt inexpressibly unsettling. If there'd been such a fire, why had no one called the police or tried to help the defenseless little boy? Where were the child's parents? Why were there such signs of abuse on the boy's body? Eduard gritted his teeth.

"It looks an awful lot like someone wanted this kid dead," Eduard remarked, and thus began to monologue; anxiety tended to have that effect on him. "What if he's connected to some higher-up? Maybe a governor? But why in the world would they want him dead? I suppose it would explain how everything is so quiet around here. But wouldn't the killer need to dispose of the body? It's likely I could get in trouble by being here… Oh no—!" Eduard shot up quite suddenly in his conversation with himself and gave a gasp. "I never even checked to see if the kid's alive!" He hurriedly reached toward the boy's neck to feel for the pulse that he desperately hoped was there, but drew his hand back as instantly as he had touched the icy skin—a body as cold as death.

Going into a panic, Eduard flailed around, terribly unsure of what to do. Luckily, his more rational side was there to point out how irrational he was being. 'Look,' it stated quite plainly. 'The kid can't be dead. If you'd just calm down for a few seconds, you'd notice he's obviously breathing.'

Hence, Eduard did as he was told and stopped panicking. He looked upon the boy's form with still a sliver of doubt, but sure enough, there was the light rise and fall of his chest; it was barely noticeable, but it was there, and that, Eduard concluded, was what was most important.

Contented, the redhead chose a spot near the unconscious boy and sat, leaning against some old piping and closing his eyes. No, it was not very likely that some government official wanted to off a small child; the kid was so scrawny, he could surely be no older than nine years old, anyways. That didn't quite explain why no one had noticed a blazing fire, but that was too much thinking for Eduard's liking, so he decidedly disregarded the subject entirely. The bruises and handprint on the boy's cheek were curious, though. Was he abused by his parents? Where were they, anyways? It was likely that they'd died in the fire, but Eduard wasn't exactly at will to go search for their bodies. All he really cared about at the moment was watching over the boy…

Eduard opened his eyes and found himself gazing over at the child. His brain made form into a thought, unperceivable and unfathomable to its own creator; in the world, I will care about this person more than anything in the world, I will care—

But as soon as it had surfaced, the thought evaded Eduard's ability to make out any of his thoughts coherently, so he closed his eyes again and thought of nothing more than sitting in repose until the boy awoke.

Less than half an hour later, fluttering eyelids and a soft moan that shown coming wakefulness signaled the most wonderful beginning of the rest of Eduard's life.

Unlike every other person Eduard had felt close to in his seventeen years, Arnen was the only person he had felt compelled to risk his life for. He'd once told the boy's demon that he did not value Arnen over his own life, and to a degree this was true. The idea of dying was not so appealing, both out of the selfish human desire to stay alive, and the simple fact that if he died, no one would be there to take care of Arnen, and how was a ten-year-old supposed to fend for himself? That would just be unfair. Besides, even despite his claim to Shiigan, he always knew, from the moment Arnen had cried out the words, "My demon!" that there was going to be a chance of him losing his life. That had been his choice, and he never held the intention of backing down.

That was how their relationship began. From the moment that small boy had opened his eyes and seen his reflection in the green staring back, Eduard had known from somewhere deep within himself that the person lying on the ground and looking up like a wounded puppy would not leave him; this relationship was forever. It was only when Eduard opened his eyes, his body still suffering from the beating he hadn't survived so many years ago, to look up and see his reflection in tearful bright violet that he realized just how deep his feelings went for that boy. If only he could say those three words; reach up and pull that face nearer his own, touch those lips and allow himself the tears he'd denied since he left for France all those years ago.

But he couldn't; his body physically would not allow him such a weakness. That was probably all for the better, anyway. As soon as he opened his mouth to greet his friend, the boy had thrown himself at Eduard, sobbing and crying that he was so happy Eduard was alive. 'What a crybaby,' he had thought in good humour, but he placed his arms around the boy all the same.

At that time, Eduard truly wanted nothing more than for that moment to not end, for them to remain that way forever. He knew they both likely needed medical attention, and getting to any community would be no easy feat, especially in their state…

Arnen sniffed and nuzzled into the crook of Eduard's neck, his tears dripping from his chin onto Eduard's skin. '… Just a little longer,' he thought, tightening his grip on the boy. Eduard heard Arnen intake a very shaky breath; the boy apparently took it as incentive and pressed himself closer, until only their clothes separated them. There were many seconds of eased silence before Arnen finally spoke, his voice hushed and whimpering, breath flitting against the redhead's neck.

"I've missed you so much." Arnen was so close that the redhead could practically feel him speak, the next word uttered low, soft; filled with an unwonted desire that he would not have expected; "Eduard."

Eduard suddenly felt somewhat uncomfortable. It was too much too soon, and it was certainly not the time or place. Therefore, the redhead found himself repeating old times; he took Arnen from under the arms (the kid was still too light) and lifted him to the ground, giving him a smile and a friendly ruffle of the hair. "Yeah," he said, sincerity lacing his tone with the love he felt. "I missed you, too."

And so, life began again. With time Eduard learned that Arnen was no longer a cute ten-year-old; he was, in fact, a fast-maturing just-turned fifteen-year-old with a bit of a temper problem. Therein lied the problem—he was still so young. Deepening their relationship could easily be seen as taking advantage of the teenager, and if it posed the threat of being taken away from his dearest friend, Eduard didn't want to risk it. Besides, he didn't even know if Arnen felt that way about him. Granted, the kid did tend to blush around Eduard a lot, and he recently couldn't seem to keep his hands off the redhead (though Eduard wasn't exactly the biggest fan of sentimental moments, he had to admit it was quite adorable when Arnen snuck a hand into his own), and he followed Eduard around like a rather cute puppy, and he got quite hot-headed whenever Eduard made mock passes at Tempest, and he always drew portraits for Eduard, and Eduard was pretty sure he'd kissed the redhead's forehead one night before going off to sleep…

Eduard blinked. He felt kind of stupid, actually. It was like the fog of oblivion had dissipated into the glowing rays of reality. Every time Arnen had averted his gaze, his cheeks dusted a lovely shade of crimson; every stammered response; every show of affection—had it all been an expression of… romantic feelings?

Blinking a few more times as the intensity of that realization wore off, the redhead gazed around the schoolyard. The bell for classes to end had finally rung, and Arnen would soon be outside looking for Eduard. 'Fervently,' his mind offered. Eduard frowned. Arnen did seem pretty eager on days Eduard picked him up from school. 'You see? He likes you. A lot.' Eduard slumped; there was just no arguing with his rational side.

Then the only thing left to do was to make an advance. Something small, easily ignorable, but effective. Arnen could take it or leave it. Simple! …Except for the illegal bit. Eduard pouted. He already had to keep a low profile since he'd apparently been wanted for "kidnapping" about four years ago. The charges had been dropped soon after, but he was still trying to play it safe—there was no point in being careless.

But his rational side persisted nonetheless. 'You love Arnen, don't you?' Eduard nodded his agreement. 'So, if your "advancement" is innocent, what could anyone arrest you for?'

The redhead snorted. His rational side was being very irrational in his opinion—

"Eduard!"

Said lunkhead looked up to see a very cheerful Arnen running toward him. Honestly, he was so child-like it was infuriating. He recalled Tempest saying something about Arnen always seeming a bit sad when leaving school; it was only when Eduard was going to be there that he seemed truly happy. Eduard sighed. Something had to be done.

Arnen slowed down to a halt in front of the twenty-one-year-old and looked up at him excitedly. "Hi, Eduard! Thank you for picking me up!" Eduard didn't answer. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and smiled wistfully down at the boy. The brunet just gazed back, confusion settling uncomfortably upon his features. Eduard understood; he never really looked so sincere unless something important was happening. Naturally Arnen would worry. "E-Eduard? Are you—ah." Arnen seemed to lose his voice—Eduard had leant down, his lips grazing against the boy's cheek. Arnen was frozen, his shoulders tense.

Eduard backed away slightly and took a good look at his friend; the brunet's face was bright red, his eyes twinkling with shock, his mouth agape. Deciding this was a good sign, Eduard leaned in once more, this time kissing Arnen's lips. It took a moment, but finally sparkling violet disappeared slowly behind pale eyelids, and Arnen tilted his head up toward Eduard, eyebrows creasing and shoulders relaxing. Eduard grinned inwardly. It was cute; Arnen obviously had never shared a romantic kiss with anyone before, and Eduard beamed that he could be the first.

While the taste of sweet chastity still lingered upon their lips, Eduard pulled away and grinned cheerfully at the stunned Arnen. "Shall I take you out to eat, then? My treat." Since Arnen seemed quite at a loss for words, Eduard just took his hand. "I'm in the mood for something spicy. How about Indian food?"

Arnen nodded and gave an audible gulp, his grip on Eduard's hand tightening gently.

"Y-Yeah."

'But, at least that means it's nothing to worry about,' Eduard told himself. During the week after their first kiss, Arnen had been hopelessly awkward and kept to himself even more when Eduard was around. Eduard had at first thought he'd misjudged his friend's feelings, but after he attempted to ask Arnen on a date, the real problem had been revealed as (surprise!) Arnen's own self doubt and the wondered possibility of Eduard only showing him that sort of love out of pity.

They'd resolved that issue easily enough, and Eduard was sure that whatever was bothering him couldn't be much more than something like what had happened the one other time. At least, he hoped so. He tended to have problems with being oblivious—

"It's like last time."

Eduard nearly swerved into a tree and parked so he could calm his nerves. He'd been so lost in his own thoughts, he'd almost forgotten the object of his inner musings was sitting right next to him.

"W-What…?" he asked weakly, glancing at his fiancé only to see that he was already staring back.

"It's like last time," Arnen repeated, a small smile adorning his lips. "Isn't it?"

Eduard blinked. He blinked again. He turned over in his seat so he could look at Arnen properly. The boy was still smiling lovingly, a light blush gracing his cheeks. Eduard instinctively reached over to ghost three fingers over the pink skin before cupping Arnen's cheek in his hand.

"Yeah," he said softly as the skin under his palm became considerably warmer. He smiled and leaned in. "…It is."

Then I see your face; I know I'm finally yours.
I find everything I thought I lost before.
You call my name, I come to you in pieces,
So you can make me whole.

- RED, Pieces