"You could try to be kinder to him, you know. He is also hurting… Really, what's up with you and his ballet school? You know you can tell me. How many more secrets do you have, hm?" She argued, as he rubbed her belly.

"I don't think I wasn't nice to him. Don't you agree, baby boy? He is way more unpolite to me than I am to him."

"Yuri, this is hardly a competition of who has the poorest behaviour. Grow up." She scolded.

"Fine… I'll be nicer to him. By the way, I made a promise, and I'll keep it. But I need you to close your eyes, let's go." He helped her up, walking beside her, guiding her towards the stairs. "Careful with the staircase."

"Oh, okay…" Going up triggered a quite unwanted Braxton-Hicks. "Can we just stop for a second? I hate those."

"Do they hurt?"

"No, just wrap around you and make it hard to breath, which is equally uncomfortable." She took a long breath. "There, let's go."

He unlocked a door. So, finally he'd decided to disclose his secret project. The room still smelled of somewhat fresh paint. "You can open your eyes now."

She was speechless. It was a nursery. The walls were half white, half baby blue, and the ceiling was a faithful depiction of the sky. The previously dark oaken crib had been painted white, to match the walls. "I wanted to show you before we bought the things… So that they could match it all. Sorry for hiding it and making it seem like I didn't care." He hugged her from behind, lifting her belly slightly. "But you couldn't have actually believed I didn't care, coul..." He was interrupted by a kiss.

"Wait until you see it at night." His grandmother added. "It's even more amazing. It glows in the dark."

"Thanks for spoiling part two of the surprise, Ms. Maryann. I love when you do that." He mocked, frustrated. Both women laughed.

There was a noise downstairs of a door opening. And Anna's happy and excited voice. Far too excited for her own good.

"Anyone home? Grandma? Big brother? I found some friends of yours from Kaleido Stage!"

Oh, great. The two former lead stars stared at one another. "It was faster than we anticipated."

A while earlier…

Sora, Anna, and Rosetta had looked everywhere the boy had thought his "friend" could be, with no luck. Surprisingly enough, even Leon Oswald, who, somehow, they learned could also see the kid, had joined, for no one knew Paris better than him out of the four of them. Ken Robbins also followed.

As they approached what he apparently had remembered to be close to where she lived, he stopped in a halt. There was another thing he remembered. That he hated that place. More than anything.

"What is wrong?"

A monster lives there. We shouldn't come closer. He will send everyone away. The house he pointed seemed to be currently abandoned, but Sora and Ken recognized it. They'd been there before.

"That's nonsense. A friend of ours lived there for a while. Or maybe, he still lives."

"He is not wrong." Leon completed. "At least, partially. That is where Kiryanov lived. Years ago." The boy shivered at the name. "Was that where Yuri was living when he came to France before?" The cherry haired trapeze artist nodded.

Suddenly, the boy's eyes and mouth went agape, and he squealed. Before anyone could even ask what was going on, he ran towards a girl who had been passing by on the other side of the street, hugging her tightly, to a point where, with the momentum, both fell to the stony ground.

"Seems like he found his friend, huh?" Ken asserted.

"Do I know you?" She stared at him, confusedly. He looked down at the floor, embarrassed. Apparently, she wasn't his friend.

"Sorry, I thought you were someone else." He apologized. "You look like her."

"WAIT… YOU TALKED." Rosetta pointed.

"Did I?! I DID!" He jumped happily, performing a cartwheel right after. The young girl, on the other hand, was mesmerized by the sight of so many circus performers together. "Oh, sorry, I should help you up."

"I can't believe it! Sora Naegino, Rosetta Passel, Anna Heart and… Leon Oswald? Today must be my lucky day! Hey, YOU, can you give me your notebook? I need to get their autographs." Ken was solemnly ignored.

"Well… Sure. You can keep it! BECAUSE I CAN TALK NOW! YAHOOOOO!" He was beyond happy.

"Can you sign this, pretty please?" She pleaded with her big Celadon eyes. "Grandma won't even believe. I am going to kill my big brother! How could he not tell me you were all coming! Are there more of you here?"

The performers looked at one another confusedly. They had never seen that girl before.

"Oh, sorry, my name is Anna Killian-Brass. I am Yuri's sister." She said, excitedly. "Have you seen him yet? He is at my grandma's house; I could take you there. Grandma is a big fan of yours, Mr. Oswald."

"HE HAS A SISTER?"

"And a brother… But Misha won't want to meet you. He is not that fond of the Kaleido Stage. By the way… Where is the boy that bumped into me?"

"Hmm… He disappears sometimes. It's just how he is." Sora stated, and the other two girls assented.

Back to the present time…

"Anna, I hear you. I'm coming down…" Her grandmother said, hastily. "And you two can choose whether you can appear or not. I can pretend you are away." She whispered.

"Grandma, you are going to love that! Look who I found! He is taller than I thought! Even taller than big brother. By the way, isn't he here?" She dragged the older woman down as soon as she appeared on the staircase.

"Heavens, Anna, slow down! You really remind me of your father when you act like that!" Her eyes brightened at her grandmother's comment.

"Really? I'll do it more, then! See, grandma, you can get an autograph now! When would you think Leon Oswald would be in your house? Had you imagined that? I bet not!" She was even faster.

On the upper level of the house, Layla chuckled, and Yuri shuddered. Talk about Karma. So, his grandmother was his nemesis fan, and he was in their house, brought by his sister.

"No, I hadn't. I'll make some tea. Please, do sit down, you all. And do excuse Anna's behaviour. She tends to get over her heels when talking about circus stuff. I suppose it's a family thing." Ken laughed. She reminded him much of his own sister, when the girls had first been to their home.

"I'll assist!" She followed her grandmother happily, bringing back a tray with fresh homemade pastries and buns. "Please, help yourselves! Grandma is the best cook!"

One by one, they tried the food, which, was indeed, tasty.

"Oh heavens, Anna." The older woman sighed at the half-eaten tray.

"What?" She asked, munching an éclair. "They are good, did you change the recipe?"

"Your brother did. I said they wouldn't work, though, but… Apparently, I was wrong. He's giving a try at 'healthier stuff'. Which are often, tasteless. Grandparent's pastries aren't supposed to be healthy; they are supposed to be comfort food."

"Eh, you mean Yuri did these? I never imagined he could do patisserie." Sora pointed out; the other performers agreed. "But again, he never talked about things apart from work. At least, not with us, I guess."

"Big brother used to work at a bakery when he was around my age, right, grandma? He would deliver goods to restaurants by bike early in the morning and after school." His grandmother assented. "And he would also deliver newspaper earlier in the morning before that. And he still found time to do his homework and help Misha with his."

"I never thought he had needed to 'work' in life." The silver-haired artist stated. "He always gave the impression of a spoiled boy."

"My husband died when Yuri was very young, and later, my son. So, he naturally took over the responsibility as 'man of the house'. It was cute, at the beginning, but we never realized the real toll it took on him. Maybe, that's part of the reason he grew to resent Kaleido Stage so much for taking his father away from them." She sighed. "Their mother took a good while to recover. So, in a way, he lost most of his childhood and early teenage years."

"Hm, that explains why Mikhail said you never had time for girlfriends." Layla whispered, and he made a face and rolled his eyes. "You never told me any of that, even after we learned about your dad."

"You never asked. Do you truly intend on keep eavesdropping like that?" He seemed annoyed.

"Of course, you keep secrets from me. For example – your mom. I know Misha and Anna live with her; your grandma told me. What's the deal? Do you have a stepfather you don't like?" He rolled his eyes once more and sighed, pulling a chair over, so she could sit.

"I am not that superficial. Besides, she would never wed again. No one could replace father." He blushed, and she once more chuckled lightly.

"Hmph. If you don't tell me, let me listen, at least. We are very interested on knowing if daddy was a good kid, right, baby boy?"

"Actually… Ms Maryann, now that you mentioned… We wanted to know more about Mr Aaron if that would be alright. I wanted, really. I'll take over his role as the Mad Hatter on the new Alice in Wonderland, and I am a little lost." Anna revealed. "But, if it's a hard subject, I'll understand."

The woman gazed longingly, stroking her granddaughter's hair. "It's not a problem, no. My Anna here keeps asking me about him anyway. You see, he passed a few months before she was born. Let's see… He was a very gentle child, always worrying about others. He wanted to be a circus artist from a very early age. And he was a natural. My husband wanted him to be a diplomat, but life had other plans. And he was a very active child, so circus helped with his excess of energy. Even when he wasn't on classes, he would be doing acrobatics out of nowhere. The world was just a big stage for him." She laughed. "I don't have a single picture of him at that age, otherwise I'd show you. He would never stay still or would always make faces at the photographer. He ruined them all… What else… Ah, he hated arts, for my dismay, as a history of art teacher, but loved the piano, or rather, I guess I made him love it."

"Dad met mom playing the piano at the school she studied, wasn't it?" Little Anna completed. "He would always play the same song when she entered the classroom. He could be playing anything, but as soon as he saw her, he would change it. The piano lady told me."

"Yes, he did taunt her like that. But this happened when they were older. They met way before." She took a long sip of tea. "I can surely say she was his first and only love. In truth, he only started playing the piano there so he could be closer to her. And to watch her dance, of course."

"Mama doesn't like to dance anymore." The girl crossed her arms over her chest. "They say she is a 'Broken Winged Swan'."

"That's fitting. Your father used to say she was the 'Swan in the garden'. The first time he saw her, she was dancing in the garden; she and her father had moved in recently. He never forgot that. He would climb up a tree close to her house just to get a glimpse of it. There was this one time he fell in their bushes and cut his face right up his nose. She realized and placed a band-aid on it. He wore it for weeks, even when it wasn't needed." The old woman laughed at the memory.

"She says she is not a good example." The girl fidgeted.

"Ah, I've heard that before…" Layla teased, shushing him before he could even reply.

"Your mom had a difficult time with dancing when she was younger. She had a very strict teacher. Let's say he scarred her for life. Mentally and physically."

The performers stared at one another. Measuring her words carefully, Anna decided to ask. "Could it be that her teacher was… Ilya Kiryanov?" The older woman nodded, inhaling deeply, and pulling her granddaughter closer. On the second floor, Yuri braced himself on the closest wall, going pale instantaneously, hyperventilating and sweating profusely.

Layla had never seen him as vulnerable. She placed a hand over his back and the other on his chest. His heart pounded violently. "Hey, breathe slowly… Sit please, you look like you can pass out any second. Breathe. Shhh. It's okay."

She pulled him closer, and he didn't even fight it. His knees reached the floor soundly, which, of course, wasn't missed by the people downstairs. He cursed. It didn't take long before his sister went up and found him in that lamentable state. Then, she ran down straight to her grandmother.

"Figures that would happen. We might need one or two extra pairs of arms here, if you don't mind, lads."

Where had they learned that name? His head was spinning. When did he fall? Why were his legs so heavy? He heard his sister's voice far away. So, he had indeed fallen and was going to make a scene. Perfect. The approaching footsteps seemed far, but he knew they were close.

"You know, at first, I thought I should have ended you as a child. But then, you had talent. You might externally look like him, but inside, you are rotten just like me. Vengeance, hatred, pain. That's what gets us going on. The proof is that you deceived and killed that girl. I was surprised. You surpassed me! I am honoured, truly. Talk about means justifying ends! Machiavelli would be pleased."

He felt himself being lifted by the axillae and placed on a chair. Someone handed him a glass of water. He couldn't bring himself to look up to the curious eyes around.

"When you reached your objective, I almost felt a little proud of being your grandfather and signing that paper to get you into that circus. But nothing felt better than to watch your demise. You really thought you could create a circus where no-one gets hurt? Oh please. People like us don't work on good feelings, boy. And now, you live with the consequences."

He felt nauseous. He wasn't like him.

"I wonder what that Sophie girl would think. She reminded me of your mother. She had potential, but also had that dead weight of a brother slowing her down. By the way, just imagine what Nadja would think? It's a shame I won't live to see it! We'll meet again, on that hot place. I'll go first, very soon. You get the house if you want. You earned it. Who would say that man's kid could be a true Kiryanov."

If he were, God wouldn't have let him live after the night he sparred with Oswald. Did he really deserve to live? After everything? Of course, that name would come back to haunt him. It was just a matter of time.

Two hands steadied his, holding the glass of water, encouraging him into taking small, controlled sips.

"You know… Maybe telling them about it might make you feel better… It's time, Yuri." His grandmother patted his flaxen hair, just like his mother's. He shook his head, staring at his sister's worried, tearful eyes. She was clinging to Layla in the same way she usually did to their mother. The other people had seemingly gone down to the floor below.

"You are absolutely not going! I already lost your father; I am not losing you too, Yuri! What if you fall? What if you bleed internally or anything like that? You are not leaving this room until tomorrow morning, when this flight of yours is already gone! What on earth were you thinking?"

"Well, at least I am doing something to face the fact that dad is gone and avenge him! Not hiding! Grandfather might be bad, might have hurt me, but at least he helped!"

"That man helps only himself! He wants you to destroy yourself, why can't you see it?"

His mother's words echoed in his mind, the feeling of her hands holding his arms shakingly that night while she tried to put some reason into his vengeful mind flooded him. She had locked him on his room, as if he was a grounded child. A pity the window had been left open. That's how he fled and convinced his maternal grandfather to sign the authorization to the Kaleido Stage auditions.

He hadn't seen her ever since. He would disappoint her. He couldn't face her, after all he'd done. She had been right all along. And even worse, he'd helped that person to break her even more than he had already done.

Once in Kaleido Stage, he came across the stories about the "Kiryanov variations" and about their creator. Yes, his grandfather had hit him more than once with the so said whip. But apparently, he had learned with time how to miss places that could be easily noticed by people or vital organs.

In his case, he particularly liked wrapping it around his neck so he could barely breath, but not enough as to leave a mark, whenever Yuri missed a step. But, at the time, all he cared about was entering the circus and fulfilling his plan, no matter the cost of it. It would be worth it, he told himself.

Once, a previous student of his had come to watch their practice. He wanted to know the kid that had accomplished what he hadn't, years ago, at the Bolshoi.

"So, you are the one, huh? Either you are an angel, or a demon worse than him. Oh, since you've met him, mind telling me if his daughter is still alive? The way he treated her, I wouldn't be surprised if she wasn't. Or if she'd ran from him, hence why he focused on you."

After that, things had gone downward. And he understood why she never had wanted them to ever meet him. Or, rather, how she had earned herself a protective measure against that man, hours after Yuri had been born. Little by little, the monster had revealed himself. And the worst: he regretted nothing at all.

Oh, if only it had been earlier.

He was brought back to the present by his sister's hands cleaning the tears he didn't even realize he had shed, offering him Pyotr, the stuffed bear, to ease his pain. He had taught his brother that, and later, Mikhail must have taught her as well. The bear belonged initially to their mother.

She had given it to him when he had been afraid of needles, at the beginning of his treatment. "Pyotr has been my bodyguard for years, and now, he is yours. You can tell him anything, any secret. He always helps." He had been his partner in crime until he gave it to Mikhail, during a nasty thunderstorm in which their parents had been working late.

"Hey, c'mon, you look like shit. Let's get you to your room." His 'not so little anymore' brother patted his back, helping him up. When had Mikhail returned? "You can walk a couple steps. It is right there." He cooed. "Good. I'll close the door, if you need anything, text me."

And, for once, his brother did not bang the door.