She was once again in front of that ballet school. A running child passed by, dragging her along by the hand. She could never see his face clearly. But she could see he was wearing crimson t-shirt and white shorts. They entered and he guided her through the building, towards the most hidden room. The door was closed but by a tiny gap. His face was still covered in shadows, but he motioned her to peek through.

Inside, a little girl sat alone, bound to the room by chains cuffed to her wrists and ankles. She was skin and bone and had bruises all over her back. Despite the chains, she rose and begun dancing. It was not joyful dance, though. Rather, it was… desperate. She was calling for help.

He boldly opened the door, trying to bring her out, but the chains only pulled her closer to the walls. Whenever he tried to approach her, no matter how he wrestled, there seemed to be an invisible barrier standing between them. Yet, somehow, she can easily pass through. She is about to hold the girl's hands and break the chains when everything turned into darkness.

Followed by a bright light.

Once again, that dream. It had been the seventh time in the two weeks' time after she'd seen Mikhail's rehearsal. She never got to tell him she'd seen it, as he had taken a distance from his grandmother's house lately. She hadn't confronted Yuri towards his mother either, as he had been much too busy with the meetings and with a personal "secret" project on a room he'd lock every day and take the keys with him wherever he went.

She rose as fast as her 35-week pregnant body allowed her to, triggering an unwanted training contraction. "Yes, sweetheart, I know, this is probably as uncomfortable for you as it is to mommy. Sorry about that." She braced one arm on the nearby wall for extra support and held the lowest part of her stomach with the other. It didn't hurt but was unpleasant.

After changing into a summer light dress, she followed the smell of tea downstairs. Yuri sat on the kitchen table, with his notebook and some paperwork. Judging by the hour, his grandmother should already be working. So, they were home by themselves. He was so concentrated that he didn't even realize her coming from behind, resting her chin onto his head, her arms wrapped around his torso.

"Good morning. Did you get a good night of sleep?" She nodded. "That's good. We are almost there, I guess, huh?" He whispered. She stared at the screen. He was looking over finances. Apparently, Jean had been able to make his sketch a possibility, but not at such an accessible cost. On the inferior side of the screen, a tiny square meant he was in a meeting, and someone was likely projecting their screen. Oops.

"Please, tell me the camera is off and the microphone is muted." Before Yuri could even react, the person on the other side of the screen stopped sharing and replied, much to her dismay.

"Not really. Lucky for you, it's only me and Kenneth here. Jean has already left. And Kenneth, well he can keep a good secret, as you well know. Can't say he did not suspect before, though." Kalos voice was instantly recognizable. He also opened his camera.

"You were the one who came unannounced. Whenever I am online, there's a great chance I'll be on a meeting." He tried to justify himself, both blushing lightly, causing the old man beside their former boss to laugh.

"Oh, that reminds me. Cirque Noir has invited Kaleido Stage artists for a collaboration again. I was going to deny it, but Rosetta's mother can be insistent. Also, Sora and Anna are a little pressured with their roles, so they decided to come also with the secondary idea to research on your dad, since they already spoke to Donna about Alice, and she told them your grandma lived in France. They are to arrive in a couple of hours. I thought you should know; in case you bump into them." Yuri nearly choked on the remaining coffee that he had been drinking. There was an awkward silence before the blond spoke.

"Why on earth didn't you warn us before? Or, rather, would you even have warned me if Layla didn't accidently show onscreen?" His point was valid. Kalos had this habit of just letting things happen. She sighed. There was no turning back now.

"Who is coming?" She asked. Well, most of them could keep a secret.

"Sora, Rosetta, May, Anna, and her troupe of clowns and Mia. Sarah won't be joining them this time." Okay, not bad, she thought to herself. Her husband though, had another burning question stuck on his throat.

"By troupe of clowns, you include or exclude Leon Oswald?" Oh, yes. He had done a cameo with them on "The Princess and the Fool" and a couple of other productions, she had forgotten.

"Well… He can be a good clown; you've said it yourself; I quite remember." Mr Kenneth argued. "Now, Kalos and I have another reunion shortly, so we'll have to hang up. Good seeing you though, Layla. How far along are you? Please indulge this old man's curiosity, before we leave."

"35 and 4 days, sir."

"Goodness me! Already? You two excel in hide and seek. Congratulations. No, really, now, jokes apart, congratulations." And with that, they hung up. Yuri kept his arms crossed over his chest and a long face.

"Hey, as much as I'd like to keep this lowkey… They would find out one way or another. Also, I thought you and Leon had sorted things out." She laid her head on his shoulder.

"Not enough as to meet him again in the city where I killed his sister. Everything was going so well. Why didn't Kalos keep them there?" He was shaking slightly.

"I told you more than once… You weren't the one riding that car. He understood it. Besides, you helped him with the Angel Manoeuvre. What is done, is done. I doubt he still holds that much of a grudge over you." She caressed his face gently. "It will be fine."

"I hope you are right." He nuzzled the top of her head, planting a soft kiss onto it. "By the way, I have the afternoon free today. Would you like to go somewhere? Why don't you show me what you've been doing when I'm not around, with my grandma and Anna?"

Over the last weeks, the dreams weren't the only new thing. Truth was, she had grown a habit of watching some of that places' classes. Mikhail had improved, but his acting was yet far from ideal. And, as much as she hated to admit, on their first years at Kaleido Stage, Yuri had thought her a lot on acting. On her circus training, she had focused more on technique than on expression. He had been the opposite. His circus skills lacked, but his ballet technique and acting were always pristine.

"Actually… You know your brother is a ballet dancer, right? Anna told me he had been having trouble. We could help him, don't you think? Maybe that would help you… bond with him again? He always seems angry at you when he comes over." She looked up to face him, only to see him turn away. His heart was beating faster than usual.

"Believe me, when it comes to ballet, I am the last person in the world Mikhail will want involved. The farther I stay from him, the best. I am not a good example."

"Is that related to why he is mad at you?" She knew she was probably meddling into the Pandora box. But she wanted to know. He sighed. It was a long sigh. The one he usually did whenever he wanted to avert the subject.

"In a family with more than one kid, there is always the good and perfect kid and the troublesome, rebel kid. As you might guess, I used to be the first, and Misha, the second. Until, of course, I decided to perceive my vengeance. Then, he had to become the good kid. And he is basically not fit for that. That's why he is angry at me."

"I don't get what this has to do with the ballet." She retorted.

"It all began with it. But that's a story for another time. I know what we'll do. I need to get some things to finish my project, and you are invited to join me." Nicely played. He had been tormenting her with not disclosing what that was. She had once spotted him going inside the room with some paint buckets. But that was all.

"Oh, so you are finally ready to reveal it to me?" She rested her chin on her arms.

"I never said that. All in its due time, princess." He laughed, pulling her close.

Across the city, the Kaleido Stage performers arrived on Charles De Gaulle airport. Getting along this time was way easier, having Leon and Rosetta, who were fluent in French. This time, they arrived straight onto Cirque Noir. The owner and their troupe were once again very welcoming and staggered with having Leon Oswald as part of their show.

Leon was in his home country. Where he was more than known. Especially with his namesake – The Grim Reaper. Kalos had sent him for other reasons as well. He was very versatile, and could be used as a villain, a prince, or even a clown.

They greeted everyone. The artists hadn't really changed. While they were being filled in with the details of the new show, Sora couldn't help but notice a boy on a corner, who seemed to be a little younger than Marion, probably seven or eight. He was playing with the juggling balls, which he was very good with. Then, he proceeded to jump in the trampoline. He seemed very happy, and quite skilled too. She wondered why no-one else seemed to notice or look at him. From the trampoline, he moved over to the trapeze, winking at her, apparently his only spectator.

The bar was too high, as it was settled for an adult. But he dragged a little bench to reach it, making a naughty face, his big, violet eyes beaming. He had a band-aid on his nose, and his knees and elbows were all scratched, probably from playing, she guessed. He bowed proudly and began to swing on his legs, still making playful faces. She could not resist but to smile.

"Sora, why are you smiling at the trapeze?" Mia elbowed her.

"What? Can't you see him?"

"See who, Sora? There is no -one there but the trapeze."

She glanced again. The little trickster was nowhere to be seen.

"I swear to you, Mia, there was a kid there." She said over and over.

"You must be jet lagged. Let's take our things to the hotel."

When they'd first come to France, they'd been focused entirely on winning the Circus Festival, so they could keep their places as lead performers on Kaleido Stage. So, they hadn't really enjoyed the city. The second time, three years later, they'd barely seen each other – he was partnered with Sora for the failed Angel Manoeuvre, and she was only invited to watch the competition and give the winners their trophy.

Now, they'd been there for more than a month, and once again, they'd barely glimpsed the city together. She had seen some places next to the Louvre with his grandmother and sister, but not others, such as Montmartre, where they currently were.

It was even more stunning than all the descriptions she'd heard. From the amazing view of the city down below, to its streets. They took a train at the Place Blanche which made a circuit throughout the main attractions from the village.

He'd said Sora once mentioned that Paris suited him. It did. But in it, Montmartre, with its rich history with artists and painters, was his natural habitat. They went down from the train in front of the Montmartre Museum. Yet, the expositions weren't their destination, but Renoir's Garden, and the Café Renoir, in it. He liked a particular pastry from that place. While he went after it, she sat in a bench by the trees. A few children were running by, possibly while their parents visited the museum.

One particular child drew her attention. He had just performed a cartwheel onto the grass. She felt like she knew him from somewhere. He reddened as he caught her gaze, putting both hands on the pockets of his white shorts. She giggled. The breeze carried a leaf that landed right on top of his messed up strawberry blond hair. He brushed it away clumsily and flashed her a dazzling smile. He bowed as if he'd start a performance and did a handstand. Upon realizing she was still paying attention, he took out one hand, sustaining himself only on his right. Then, in a backflip, he was back on his feet. She joined her hands, as if praising him, and he awkwardly scratched his nose, over which there was a band-aid.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself. I'd have brought you here sooner if I knew you'd like it so much." Yuri joined her under the tree shadow.

"You'll see, just wait. Where is him?" Once she'd turned back again, the boy had vanished as if he never were there. "There was this kid, and he was pretty good. He will be a great artist someday." He gave her a steaming cup of cocoa.

"If you say so… I have no choice but to believe."

"So, we've seen a lot, it's been more than pleasant and romantic, but bought nothing except for our pastries, your coffee, and my cocoa. What was that you needed for your… Project?" She inquired.

"Geez… We'll get there. There is a certain hue, with a certain property that I can only get from a certain guy that comes by to the Place du Tertre to paint. I met him in one of my classes."

"I see. And I am not worthy of another clue other than paint?"

"Nope." He teased.

"You are terrible. You know that, right? By the way… I'm getting a little worried."

"What for?" He spoke as he munched a piece of the pastry.

"He'll be born soon, and we won't have his nursery ready. He does have a crib, that one that was yours. Your grandma showed me. But apart from that… Nothing else."

"Well… There is not much needed apart from that and love. I forgot you were a princess. And the three of you have bought enough clothing for an army of children when you were out last time." He snorted.

"You can't be serious. It's settled, then. You'll be the one changing him in all of them when explosive poop comes over. You hear that, right, baby boy?" She crossed her arms over her swollen tummy. He made a yucky face. He hated that subject, and his grandmother would always tease him with it.

"And here was I, happily eating my delicious pastry, when the dreadful explosive poop talk emerged again." He took her on an embrace. "It will be fine, trust me. By the way, if I am lucky, I will finish it tomorrow, then you can see it. Deal? And tomorrow we'll go over furniture. Promise."

"Hmph. Deal.

Sora and Rosetta had decided to share the room, since they could both see Fool, which would save Sora the trouble of having to watch over his pervy behaviour.

"You really didn't see that boy either, Rosetta? I can't believe it was just me."

"Nope." The redhead said, bluntly.

"Fool, is there another Spirit like you? Or anything of that sort?"

"Not that I am aware, no. Why would that be?"

"Today at Cirque Noir, there was a child performing tricks which nobody, but Sora saw." Rosetta explained.

"Hm, interesting. Never heard of something like that. Yet, some places carry memories. Maybe that was the case."

Anna busted through the door. She had put some of her stunt material in Sora's luggage, otherwise she'd have to pay an extra tax for it. Which neither her nor Kalos would like.

"Howdy, people! Here I am to retrieve what belongs to me, myself, and I only." She was wearing a top hat. "Hey, who's your little friend?" She pointed across them, towards the window.

When both girls looked over, there he was. The kid from before. He'd probably climbed the nearby tree to access their balcony.

"That's him! The boy from earlier! Hey kid, what on earth are you doing in here alone?" She opened the balcony, letting him in. He didn't say a word, but he apparently really liked Anna's hat. And, more importantly, Sora wasn't going crazy, as both girls could also see him this time. "Your parents must be after you! It's already night! Where do they live, we can take you there."

He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders as if he didn't know and proceeded to roll the hat from a shoulder to the other and balance it in one finger.

"Fine… So, may we know your name?" Once again, he scratched his head and motioned as if he didn't know it. What on earth could be wrong with that child?

"Hmm… Can you speak?" He opened his mouth, but no words would come out. He shook his head, defeatedly. "But you can hear, right?" He nodded.

"Can you write?" Rosetta asked, "Or use French sign language?" She handed him a piece of napkin and a pencil.

I was asleep in a bright, cozy place, and I woke up here. I like the circus, then I saw you there and all those nice circus things and I wanted to play. Only that nice lady paid attention to my show, though. He wrote in a childlike handwriting, pointing at Sora. He continued.

Then, a funny thing happened, and when I fell onto the net, I was on the grass somewhere else. The other kids ignored me. So, I tried to call their attention and another nice lady saw me. She was so gorgeous. His face reddened upon mere remembrance. She liked it as well. He seemed proud of himself. Do you work in the circus? When I grow up, I will surely be a circus artist! No matter what it takes! When I do, will you come and watch me?

He flashed the brightest grin they'd ever seen. Then, he pointed at Anna's hat. Why do you have this nice hat?

"Oh, this, my sweet little friend, isn't any hat. It's the Mad Hatter's hat, straight from Wonderland!" He placed both hands over his mouth agape and opened even more his bright violet blue eyes. He shook Rosetta's arm into getting him more paper, pouting, and making puppy eyes.

Are you serious? Does it have magic? If you put it in your head, you become the Hatter? Can I try? He looked inside of the hat, turned it upside down, but there seemed to be nothing magical about it whatsoever.

"Whoa, hand me it back and be careful! I am still trying to figure this out. You see, there was another hatter before me, but he sadly left only me this hat and nothing else. I don't know." She dramatically put it on her head, dropping onto the bed. And he started to laugh at her. Then, he came closer to her, looked straight inside her eyes, taking both her hands. His look was one of pure determination. He took the pencil again.

Looks like we'll have to find it out. What do you say, little hatter? His handwriting was suddenly much more developed than before. The three artists looked to one another. I tried to act like you! How did I go? Was I mysterious enough? Was it nice? Can I stay with you? Pretty please? Can I go to your circus and learn? I can't find my school anymore. His handwriting was back to normal. Maybe he was a just a little trickster, after all.

But one thing they knew for sure. That kid was going places. The second thing they knew: if he wrote that fast, they were glad he couldn't speak, otherwise they would always be asking him to slow down. Anna was called back to the room she was sharing with Mia.

"Okay, you can sleep here with us, but just for today. We'll find your parents tomorrow." He nodded. He once again asked for paper.

By the way, who is the little guy on the table? He looks like the phantom of the opera, but weirder. Sora and Rosetta were dumbfounded. And why is he with underwear on his face? Eww. The boy once again made a face.

"YOU CAN SEE HIM TOO?" And he only nodded, as if it were nothing especial at all. Then, he grabbed the Spirit of the Stage and squinted his eyes judgingly at him.

That's not a nice way to treat girls. Gross, mean and gross. He locked Fool out in the balcony. I protect you. He will never come close to your things again, while I stay! I promise! He crossed his heart, as to make it clearly a promise.

He slowly rose, careful not to disturb her slumber. He still remembered each piece of floor that was noisy onto stepping by heart.

He quietly unlocked the nearby room, entering the dark space. He had already brought the stairs up earlier, all he had to do now was remain as silent as possible. It was only him, his paintbrushes, heaven depicted on the ceiling and that special pigment that could glow in the dark.

Each delicate, fine stroke became a star on the vast sky. On the mornings, the painted clouds would make it as peaceful as a breezy summer day. At night, it would become a starlit sky, with shooting stars and the Aurora Borealis. The remaining walls were already dry, and the room was ready to receive its due furniture.

He hadn't been the best son, neither the best brother, nor the best friend.

Maybe, he could still be a decent husband and father.

At least, he hoped so.

"Now look at you, Michelangelo would be proud." His grandmother spoke in a low tone from where she stood. "What is the Sistine Chapel close to this?"

"Do I sense irony, Ms Maryann Brass?" She shook her head. "Can you turn the lights off just for a second? I need to see if I missed any spots." She did as she was instructed, marvelling at the sight.

"That's beautiful. She'll love it."

"I received an ultimatum today, you know? I think my son may be born earlier than he should if we don't get a nursery ready." He chuckled.

"You don't even play with such a thing, boy! Hit the wood three times, now! It can be the crib, it's oak." She scolded him, pinching his ear. "Well… Just so you know. Next room can be mine. I'd like a vision of the night sky on my ceiling now and then."

"I'll take your request into full consideration." He yawned. "What time is it? I need to buy an armchair and a wardrobe tomorrow."

"Oh, poor little you. It's only four a.m." She scoffed ironically. "Drink some coffee or energy drinks and go. Hmph, men." She rolled her eyes. "You better get used to it. Your dad helped your mom a lot when you were born."

"Fully aware. I wish he were here."

"Me too, Yuri. Me too." She sighed. "Yet… Your mother is. And you know that, don't you?" He stared at his feet, like a toddler who had done something bad.

"I can't face her… Not after that betrayal. I don't know whether I would forgive her if it were the other way around."

"Who knows… But, if I have learned something about her, in all these years… Is that she's stronger than you think. You were young, and that man was evil embodied. Only those who have seen it know."