"Kris, Kris! Where are youuuuu?"

The calls of the seven-year-old boy reverberated throughout the mansion, bouncing off the bookshelves and into Kristoph Gavin's ears. The fifteen-year-old gave an annoyed sigh as he snapped the book he was holding shut. Peering out from behind the immense mahogany bookshelves, Kristoph spotted the source of all the commotion. When the little boy saw Kristoph looking at him, his face erupted into a grin as he scampered towards his elder brother. Kristoph gave a mental cry of anguish, realizing in horror what was coming. Couldn't the little pest just leave him alone for five seconds?

"Krissss!" The young boy's arms wrapped around his older brother's waist like an unwanted boa constrictor. "I've been looking all over for you! I asked Sophia where you went, but even she didn't know! It's like you were playing hide and seek, except I didn't know about it."

"Now, why on earth would I ever do something like that?" Kristoph asked thinly, trying and failing to pry his brother off of him. "And just because Sophia's our maid doesn't mean she has to monitor my every movement. What do you want, Klavier?"

"Oh, well, umm…" Klavier loosened his grip and (finally!) let Kristoph go. He shuffled his feet and looked down at the floor. suddenly getting very quiet. You ask for the same thing every night, Kristoph thought in exasperation. Just spit it out already. "I, well, I need your help again. For my math homework. I really don't get any of that multiplication stuff."

"Why do you always need my help? Just ask Sophia; she's intelligent. She can probably help you." And once again, Kristoph thought bitterly, I say the same thing I do every night. I'm Sisyphus and he's the annoying rock that won't shut up.

"I know, I know. I just really want your help, that's all. Besides, you're the one who always gets angry if I do bad on a quiz. Mama and Sophia don't mind at all. It only makes sense that you should be the one to help me." Klavier beamed, proud of his 'flawless' logic.

Of course Mother doesn't care what grades you get in school. You're perfect in her eyes.

"It's 'do poorly' on a quiz, Klavier, not 'do bad'. And fine, I suppose I could help you tonight." Kristoph tried to conceal a smile as Klavier jumped up and down in victory. As much as he disliked the little nuisance, Kristoph did feel—occasionally—a certain satisfaction seeing him pleased like this.

"Okay, let's go up to my room, then! Hurry up!" Klavier sprinted through the halls, past the oriental carpets, Italian paintings, Ming Dynasty vases and various ornate decorations that adorned the halls of Gavin Manor. Kristoph, much less enthusiastic, trudged behind him, still wondering where Klavier got such boundless energy. Certainly not from either of our parents.

Passing the shut doors to the bedrooms, Kristoph stopped momentarily as he heard muffled voices behind his parent's elaborately crafted bedroom door. Two voices could be heard from behind the door: a woman's, and a man's. The woman's voice had a soft, musical quality to it, sounding sweet and pleasant, yet possessing bitter and somewhat spiteful undertones which seeped through the sugary pretext like acid. The man's voice was deep and loud, commanding authority and obedience. They were arguing about something, but Kristoph couldn't tell what it was. All he knew was that the man seemed to be winning, like always. Part of him wanted to open the door to interrupt, but because he wasn't suicidal, he instead ignored it and followed his brother up the stairs.

When Kristoph opened his brother's room, Klavier was sprawled out on the bed, textbook open in front of him. Moving his legs over the various toys scattered carelessly about the room, Kristoph finally sat next to Klavier on the crimson bedspread.

"Klavier, Sophia just cleaned your room yesterday. Why does it still look so messy?"

"I like it messy!" he whined. "Whenever it's clean, I can't find anything. So once she finished and left, I put all my stuff back where it was before."

Poor Sophia. "You're unbelievable," Krstoph sighed, shaking his head. "You realize you just made her job a whole lot harder, right?"

"But she gets paid to clean!" Klavier insisted, flailing his arms about for emphasis. "She likes to clean messes because it gives her money. I like to make messes so I can find my things. We're helping each other! That's called tra–trans-transfunctional!"

"The word you're thinking of is 'transactional.'" Kristoph rolled his eyes. "And you're wrong, but I'm not going to waste my time arguing. Just show me the math problem so I can leave."

Klavier moved the textbook closer to Kristoph so he could get a better view. "This stuff. I get confused when you have to multiply a number with two digits."

"It might seem challenging at first, but it's really not as difficult as you think. Here, give me a pencil and a piece of scrap paper." Klavier stumbled off the bed and rummaged through a pile on the floor (good grief…) before passing the tools to Kristoph. Within minutes, the two boys were solving problems, scribbling down equations on scrap sheets of paper. Klavier was a surprisingly fast learner, and managed to grasp the concept quicker than Kristoph thought he would. After an hour, the two finished all the problems assigned.

"And because anything times zero is zero, you would put the zero at the bottom, and because five times four is twenty, you would put the twenty in front of that zero. If you look underneath, you can see now that fifty times four is two-hundred. Do you see now?" Kristoph asked, peering down at his little brother. From beneath Klavier's messy blonde bangs, the small boy's bright blue eyes lit up and he nodded.

"Yeah, I think I get it now. Thanks!"

Kristoph nodded as he stood up, making his way to the door. "Well, if that's all, I'm going to go back to my reading now. Good night."

"Wait!"

Kristoph turned around to look at his younger brother. "Yes?"

"I, well…" Klavier bit his lip, eyes downcast. "What book are you reading?"

"It's called 'Paradise Lost.' It's in English, so you can't read it. And even if you could, you wouldn't like it anyway."

Kristoph turned to leave the room once more, but yet again, Klavier's call stopped him.

"Why didn't you get a copy in German? And, um, what's it about?"

Kristoph rolled his eyes. These questions were pointless; he just wanted to get back to reading—or attempting to read—the book already.

"I didn't get a German copy because I wanted to practice my English." And that was a terrible idea, because this book is almost impossible to understand even for a native speaker. "It's about God and the angels."

Klavier grinned as he looked up at Kristoph. "That sounds like a nice book. If it's about God, then maybe Father would like it."

"He won't."

"Why not?"

"…Because the book portrays Satan in a different light than the Bible does. Father won't like it."

Especially after his 'conversion.' Kristoph thought, rolling his eyes. One night seven years ago, Konstantin Gavin—a staunch atheist—came down late to dinner, a disheveled mess with a gleam in his eye, raving about how he had been enlightened like Paul on the Road to Damascus, and that he had a 'new vision' for the future of the Gavin family and society as a whole. His mother's reaction during that dinner was the first and only time he had ever seen his mother lose her composure and thought she was going to slam one of her porcelain plates over his father's head.

Going from being raised in a nonreligious household to a suddenly very religious one overnight was a big change, and Kristoph wondered and hoped at the time if Konstantin's new belief system would extend to treating his family in a more compassionate way.

That hope was shattered very early on and religion became yet another tool in his already-hefty toolbelt of secular reasons to justify his tyranny. Kristoph learned the harsh but important lesson that some men are inherently cruel, and the cruelty will always find a way to seep into every aspect of their life. Konstantin Gavin was simply a bastard and always would be, with or without religion.

"Maybe he will!"

"He won't. Now, if you don't mind, I'm leaving."

"Wait!"

Kristoph twitched. Didn't he spend enough time here already? It was as if Kristoph was a prisoner and Klavier his ball-and-chain.

"Umm…Kris? Can you do something for me?"

"It depends what it is."

"Can you, um, sing a song for me?"

Kristoph blinked. That was certainly unexpected.

"Why would I sing? I've never showed any interest before in-"

"That's not true!" Kristoph turned to look at Klavier in surprise. The little boy was clutching at his bed sheets, staring at Kristoph with a determined look on his face. "I remember when we were little, you used to sing for me. You sang really good too! It was kind of like how Father says the angels are supposed to sing–at least, that's what I think. I never heard a real angel before. But anyway, when I was little you used to sing for me to help me go asleep."

"You actually remember that? I stopped when you were three; I didn't think you could remember that far back."

"I do. It's one of my first memories. So…could you, please?"

"No."

"W-what?"

"I said no. I'm not going to make a fool of myself by singing. When you were a baby it was one thing. Even Sophia couldn't get you to go to sleep! But now you're older and don't need me anymore. Good night."

"That's not true," Klavier mumbled. "I still need you…"

Kristoph's gaze softened as Klavier buried his face in his pillow.

"Don't be like that. If you want someone to sing for you, I can always get Sophia. She'll be more than happy to placate your nonsense."

"It's not the same," Klavier whispered softly, clutching his pillow to his chest. Kristoph glanced at the wooden clock hanging above Klavier's bed. It was ten o'clock. If Klavier stayed up any later, he would have a hard time concentrating in school the next day.

"…Does it really mean that much to you?"

Klavier swiftly raised his head and nodded, eyes wide. Kristoph sighed.

"Fine. But only this once; I don't want this to become a regular habit, understand?"

Klavier nodded again, so rapidly and passionately it almost seemed as though his head would fall off. Kristoph swallowed before opening his mouth, and began to sing what he could remember from 'Ave Maria.' A calming, slightly melancholic tune wafted through the air. Klavier watched, mesmerized, as Kristoph sang the tranquil melody he heard long ago. When he was finished, Klavier stared at him, mouth agape.

"…You know, a bug is going to fly into your mouth if you don't close it."

Klavier snapped his mouth shut, though his wide eyes were still looking at his brother. "I knew you could sing, and I was right! Wow, you really do sound like an angel, Kris."

"Well, I wouldn't go so far as to say that." Kristoph chuckled lightly, but inwardly smirked and basked in the praise. "Besides, the only reason I know it so well is because of Mother. Before she married Father, she was training to be a classical singer and this was one of her more popular songs. Even now, it plays on the radio a lot during Christmastime."

Klavier's eyes grew wide like saucers. "Mama's a singer? I didn't know that! I thought she didn't have a job. I just thought she sat around all day."

Kristoph winced slightly. "She was a singer," he clarified. "And she doesn't 'sit around all day.' She's a socialite."

"What's that?" Klavier tilted his head slightly.

Kristoph tried to find a way to make it sound productive, but couldn't. "...it's someone who spends a lot of time at social gatherings."

"She spends all her day at parties," Klavier said wistfully. "And she was a singer. And we live in a really big house. If I tell the girls at school, do you think they'll be jealous of her?"

"Probably, so you shouldn't. No one likes braggart," Kristoph said with a faint hint of a smile.

"Even though she goes to parties all day, Mama doesn't seem happy though," Klavier said thoughtfully, playing with the frayed edges of his blanket. I need to let Sophia know about that, so she could replace it. "Singing sounds more fun. I think she should go back to doing that."

"Well," Kristoph began, trying to find how he should explain the gender norms of his family. "I don't think Father would like it that much if Mother worked. He's very…traditional, and doesn't think it would be proper if a woman of Mother's social status were to hold a job. Social standing is everything to our parents, after all."

"I don't see why not. If Mama wants to do something, then she should do it!" Kristoph looked down at Klavier, who was smiling widely. The innocence of children was truly an amazing thing. "Almost all of my friends have mothers who have jobs."

"I agree, but don't let Father hear you say that. I doubt he'd be pleased."

"Yeah, I know." Klavier flopped down on his bed, dejected, but then started giggling. "Maybe she could have a secret identity where she's a singer."

Kristoph rolled her eyes. "Yes, I'm sure she'd love that idea."

"I think she would! If she was a singer before, then that means she liked it, right?" He shifted up to a sitting position. "What made her stop singing, anyway?"

For one moment, it was as if the world had stopped moving. Kristoph stood, frozen, looking at the little boy in front of him. Klavier's honest smile seemed to transform into a mocking grin, waiting for his brother's response. He swallowed before looking down at the ground and clutching his arms with his hands. The whole room seemed to be suffocating him, and Kristoph had the urge to bolt out of this hellhole as soon as possible.

"Kris? Kristoph?"

The smothering atmosphere lifted from the room as abruptly as it came. Klavier was Klavier again, not an imposter who knew more than he should have. The little boy's eyes were looking up at his elder brother with worry instead of scorn. Everything was back to normal.

"Are you okay? You look really sick."

"I'm fine, Klavier. It's just…a headache, that's all. And you're way past your bedtime, so stop trying to distract me." Kristoph moved his hands toward the lamp, and pulled the string. The whole room was now enveloped in darkness. "Do you need me to keep the hall light on?"

"No, I think you made it brighter already. I'll be fine!"

Kristoph wanted to question what Klavier meant by that, but Klavier's excited voice interrupted his train of thought. "You know, maybe one day when I'm old enough, I'll become a singer. If Mama and you are good at it, then I should be, too!"

Kristoph laughed quietly and raised his hand, shaking his head. "Wasn't it only last week when you went around proclaiming how you wanted to be a fireman?"

"Well…that was last week, and this is this week. I'm serious about this!"

"I'm sure you are." Kristoph smiled. "Now it's time for you to go to bed. Good night, Klavier."

"Good night, Kris!"

Kristoph nodded, and quietly exited the room. Making his way down the hall, the fifteen-year-old placed two fingers on his aching forehead. It had to be just a byproduct of all the stress he was feeling. That had to be it.

The sound of soft footsteps jolted Kristoph out of his inner musings. Turning the corner, he came face-to-face with a young blonde woman in her thirties. Her silky hair cascaded down her back, adorned with silver hairclips that kept every strand in order. The woman's light blue dress didn't possess a single wrinkle, and her skin was perfectly smooth and soft. Overall, the woman gave off the impression of a porcelain doll as opposed to the mother she was supposed to be.

"Kristoph," Katharina Gavin began, tilting her head to the side. "Did you come from Klavier's room? Do you happen to know if he's asleep?"

"Well, he's…" Kristoph bit his lip. Why was talking to his mother always so hard? "Um, the last time I checked he seemed to be sleeping," he lied.

"I see." Katharina looked intently at Kristoph, as if truly seeing him for the first time. Feeling her gaze, Kristoph tried to stand up straighter while simultaneously gaining awareness of every little thing that was wrong with him.

Pursing her lips, yet still maintaining that aura of beauty, Katharina gently touched some of Kristoph's golden hair strands that were resting on his shoulders and put them behind his ear with her manicured hands. "Your hair is out of place. Given that it's becoming so long already, I suggest you try putting it in a braid."

"But then I'll look like–" Kristoph abruptly stopped. A wavy curtain of gold blocked his view of her expression, but the teenage boy had the feeling he knew what she was thinking, for once in his life. Katharina slowly began to move towards Klavier's room. At first Kristoph hesitated, then decided to follow his mother.

"It was a suggestion, not a request." Katharina said, not bothering to look behind her. Kristoph bit his lip, trying to search for the right words, before finally asking her what was on his mind.

"Mother, were you and Father in an argument? I thought I heard you two discussing something."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Kristoph wished he could take them back. Although she did not stop walking, Katharina suddenly became tense, and the air seemed to become colder and stuffier. She turned her head to look at her son, a tight smile etched on her delicate face.

"There are no problems in this household, Kristoph. I didn't think I needed to tell you something so obvious. The two of us were merely having a discussion. I seem to have lost something very valuable to me, that's all."

Kristoph was tempted to ask what the item she lost was, but thought better of it. The last thing he wanted to do was to make her upset with him.

The two finally reached Klavier's room, and Katharina gently pulled the door open. To Kristoph's astonishment—and relief—Klavier was sleeping as gently as a cherub, bundled tight in his covers. Katharina gave a sigh of irritation as she tried to maneuver past the toys scattered about the room, muttering something about Sophia. When she reached the sleeping boy, Katharina tenderly placed a smooth hand over his forehead. His mother's eyes softened as an affectionate smile graced her lips. Mesmerized by his mother's facial transformation, Kristoph couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy as he watched his little brother sleep peacefully.

You're lucky you were born at the right time, little brother.

"Why did you come here when he was about to fall asleep?" asked Katharina, gently caressing Klavier's forehead

"He needed some help with homework. Also, he told me about his new career plans." Katharina turned to look at Kristoph in surprise. The magic that was once there had evaporated, leaving Kristoph to face the same distant expression that he always saw for fifteen years of his life.

"Oh? And what could he possibly want to be, now?"

"A singer." Kristoph decided that it would be much wiser to leave out why he decided to become one.

"…Interesting." Katharina put one finger to her lip, as if in deep thought. "It's much better than becoming a fireman, at any rate. And what exactly made him decide on this particular career path?"

Kristoph needed to bullshit, and fast. "I was discussing what I wanted to be when I was an adult. I listed off a few different job fields, and when I mentioned the arts, I gave examples of what it meant, such as painting, writing, and singing."

"And what do you wish to become?" asked Katharina, making her way past the toys and to the doorframe. Kristoph inwardly cursed. He had no set career path; his father always stressed the importance of doing something that would increase the prestige of the Gavin name as well making himself useful, but Kristoph wasn't sure what that could be.

"I haven't fully decided y-"

"If you have no goals or aspirations, I suggest going into law," she interrupted.

"Like Father?" he couldn't help but say gloomily. He always figured his father would push him to become a judge like himself, but the thought made him deflate any enthusiasm he had about his future. It seemed so boring.

Katharina pursed her lips slightly. "Not quite. The judicial field is only one aspect of law. If I was in your position, I would consider becoming a defense attorney."

"What?" Kristoph looked at his mother in surprise. If anything, he would have expected her to say "become a prosecutor," given the fame and power of the renowned Manfred von Karma.

She raised an eyebrow. "I don't believe I stumbled over my words, did I?" Kristoph quickly shook his head. "As I said…my suggestion is to become a defense attorney. For wealthy clients, naturally. It's a career that provides ample opportunity to forge connections with esteemed and powerful individuals, since the wealthy are rarely strangers to scandal." She gave a wry smile. "Making an illustrious name for yourself reflects well on the family. And if you win a case against Manfred von Karma…" Katharina's lip curled as she eyed her son similar to how cheetah's size up their prey. "Needless to say, the benefits would be immense. You'd finally make a name for yourself, Kristoph."

Kristoph gazed at his mother from behind his glasses. Fame, power, and prestige. Those were the three things the Gavin family cherished above all else. Without them, one was worthless. If becoming a defense attorney would suddenly make him appear useful to his parents, then who was he to complain?

"It sounds like a rather… benevolent thing to do, helping people who can't help themselves."

Katharina gave Kristoph a small, slightly patronizing smile before passing him, retreating from Klavier's room to go down the hallway. "Of course it is."

After making sure her footsteps could not be heard, Kristoph gently leaned his head on the doorframe and sighed. His eyes fell on Klavier, who was sound asleep, oblivious to Kristoph's mental and emotional turmoil.

You're so lucky, Klavier. You don't know just how lucky you are.

Kristoph treaded softly towards the sleeping boy, before placing a hand on Klavier's messy blond head. Memories of long ago nipped at his mind like crows pecking at a dead carcass. Kristoph's grip tightened as his eyes narrowed, watching the boy sleep peacefully, without a care in the world. For one brief second it occurred to Kristoph that he could probably kill the boy right now, while he was sleeping.

But he didn't. Kristoph's gaze softened as he watched his little brother breathe tranquilly. As irritating as he was, Kristoph was still the elder brother, and it was the older sibling's duty to protect the younger one at all times. With one last look, Kristoph closed the door and exited the room.