Gauche had been mentally berating himself the entire ride to town, and he would probably be doing so for the rest of the day.

She hadn't had anything with her. She hadn't asked to grab anything when he'd told her he had a job for her at the hideout that would come with a place to stay. She just had the one canvas bag; of course she didn't have clothes to change into if, oh, she was suddenly drenched with water by some asshole who didn't think about it.

Gauche knew that Asta had seen the mirror; the kid was annoying and thickheaded, but he wasn't stupid, and he had good eyes. What Gauche couldn't figure out was why Asta hadn't told Mariela that Gauche was the one who had interrupted their laundry session by dousing them both in water. It was almost enough to make Gauche feel like he owed Asta a thank you… almost. Every time Gauche looked at Mariela, dressed head to toe in Asta's clothes, he felt a little more of his control slipping away. Gauche ran his hand through his hair in frustration, the thought of her opening her room door with wet hair dressed in the stupid tunic and pants that Gauche saw the kid wear every single day seared into his mind forever. The most frustrating part wasn't even that he was having to keep himself from losing his mind because Asta's clothes on anyone he cared about was just too much. It was that the owner probably wasn't the only reason why Gauche wanted to take those damn clothes off her.

"Gauche? Are you okay?"

Gauche started at Mariela's question, straightening up from the wall he'd been leaning against. She was wearing a soft yellow dress that reminded him of sunshine, the hem going down to just above her knees and the peasant top cinched at the waist.

She was gorgeous—even with the very, very sad look in her eyes.

"I'm fine," Gauche said after a moment, realizing that he'd been staring and hadn't answered her. When the look in her eyes didn't change, however, he insisted, "Really, I'm fine. Are you not having a good time?"

Mariela smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I'm having a wonderful time; the past two days have been so amazing; I'm actually worried I'll wake up and it'll all have been a dream." She laughed awkwardly at that, the sound as forced as the smile she was still giving him. "That's probably a silly thing to say. It's far more likely that I'll screw things up, even if this is a dream."

Gauche frowned; he was slowly starting to piece together just what about some of the things she said made him so unhappy, and he didn't like the picture.

"Why did you think I thought you stole those clothes?" The question was abrupt, but it also changed the subject toward one that would hopefully have her being… less self-deprecating. He realized very quickly, however, that if that was his goal, he'd chosen probably the worst topic possible.

Mariela's face fell immediately, and Gauche was horrified to see her eyes go glassy with tears. She blinked them back carefully; she was good at that, he'd noticed. Finally, she answered quietly, "I don't know. I just knew I couldn't let you think I was a thief after everything you'd done for me."

Gauche didn't know what to say. Before he could figure it out, Mariela seemed to shake herself a little. Giving him a smile that seemed much more genuine, she flared the skirt of her dress a little with both hands and asked, "Well, how does it look?"

"It looks… great." Great wasn't exactly the word that Gauche had been thinking, but it was close enough. "Yellow looks good on you."

Mariela beamed at that. "Thank you, it's my favourite colour." She seemed to blush after she said that, giving him that same awkward laugh she always did when she was about to say something that would make him sad at best and angry at worst. "That's probably a weird thing to tell someone."

"Why?" Gauche asked immediately, then realized he probably didn't want to hear her reasoning. Choosing to change the subject instead, he looked around and said, "I wonder if they have anything that would fit my angel, I bet yellow would look good on her, too."

Mariela laughed, this time a lot more genuine, and when Gauche looked back at her, she was smiling up at him. "They definitely have something that you can get for her, let me change out of this—"

Gauche caught her hand before she could walk back to the dressing room, and he made a conscious effort not to almost break her fingers this time around holding it. "Why don't you just stay in that. I can pay for the dress, and you can throw Asta's clothes in a fire."

Mariela laughed. "I think I'll just give them back to him after I wash them, but thanks, Gauche." She hesitated, suddenly seeming a lot less comfortable. More quietly, she added, "You really don't have to do this. You already got me the job, I can pay for my own things in a month."

"You can't seriously be planning to rotate between the two dresses for a month while doing manual labor every day."

Mariela laughed. "It's hardly manual labor. And, besides, I've never seen you wear anything other than what you're wearing right now."

"You've only known me for two days," Gauche said, flustered. "Besides, cleaning up after the den of animals I just brought you to is manual labor. There is literally an actual den of animals that Yami keeps for pets… or something, I've never seen him let them out of the cage. Since I saddled you with the job, it's only right I get you something else to wear. At least something you can wear when you aren't working."

Mariela's face seemed to pale a little at that, and Gauche was about to tell her that he was sure that she wouldn't actually have to deal with the animals—that was a job that Asta would be keeping, whether he wanted to or not—when she cut off his thoughts.

"Both of those dresses aren't really the kind of quality that I should be wearing around Magic Knights, are they?" She breathed. "Most of you are noble born, right?"

Gauche blinked at that, caught off guard. "Well, yeah, but the Black Bulls are a little different. There are probably more commoners than nobles on the squad, and a couple of them are from the Forsaken realm."

Mariela's face immediately brightened at that. "Yeah? They are? Where?" Seeming to catch herself getting too excited, Mariela added, blushing a little in embarrassment, "That's probably such a hick thing to say, I'm just excited. I haven't met anyone else from the Forsaken realm since we left it, and it's kind of nice to know that some of the Magic Knights know what it's like to live out there."

Gauche was suddenly stuck. On the one hand, the only person whose hometown he remembered off the top of his head was goddamn Asta's. On the other, Gauche didn't want to kill that look on Mariela's face. "Hage," he said grudgingly, doing his best to keep that out of his voice. "I know for sure someone's from Hage."

Mariela's eyes went wide. "Hage? Are you serious?" When Gauche gave her a hesitant nod—he was just positive that whatever she was going to say next would make him furious, and he reminded himself for the millionth time not to take it out on the hand he was holding— and Mariela's answer was exactly what he should have expected it to be. "Me and my brother were staying there for a few months before we came here! Who is it?" With a laugh, she added, "Do they miss the pop potatoes everyone there loves so much?"

I should have just told her I didn't know. "Asta talks about those stupid things all the time," Gauche mumbled, and Mariela's look of surprise didn't stay long before devolving into a smile that was all together far too fond for his tastes.

"Yeah, I should have guessed he was one of the ones from the Forsaken realm. That makes a lot of sense." Mariela looked up at Gauche, and he wasn't exactly sure how his face looked at that particular moment, but he had a pretty good idea as Mariela added in a rush, "Not that I think there's anything wrong with him, obviously, I like him a lot, in fact. I mean, I like everyone that you've introduced me to so far, your squad mates are all so nice, Asta just…" she trailed off, the rapid speed of what she was saying dying down even as Gauche could feel himself heating up with agitation. What she said next, however, killed it immediately. "Asta reminds me a lot of Marlin."

"Your little brother?"

Mariela smiled sadly as she nodded. "Yeah, my little brother. He's the reason why yellow is my favourite colour; I used to tell him that he was made of sunshine and clouds and that was why he could run so quickly." Mariela added, almost as an afterthought, her hand going to clutch at the pendant at her throat. Gauche hadn't really looked at it, but now he was realizing it was a little sun pendant. In fact, if he didn't know any better…

"Is that the Golden Dawn's sun?"

Mariela, seemingly startled by his question, gripped the pendant in her fist. The little golden sun disappeared, but Gauche was positive that was what he'd seen. The cut of her dress neckline yesterday had probably hidden it; there was no way he would have missed it for the entire day.

"Yes," she said, sounding a little reluctant. "Yes, that's actually exactly what it is."

Gauche was going to ask the obvious question, but Mariela beat him to it, squeezing his hand and reminding him with a start that he was still holding her hand. "Come on, let's find a gift for your little sister. Do you think she'd like the colour yellow?"

"I'll get her one to match yours." Mariela laughed at that, but stopped abruptly as she realized that Gauche wasn't laughing. He nodded toward the other side of the shop where children's clothing had been arranged. "Help me find one."

Mariela hesitated again, glancing at the dressing room. "I don't think—"

"Why don't we go see your brother and my darling angel of a sister after this?" Gauche cut her off with the only thing he could think of, and it seemed to be the first time all day that he'd made a split-second decision that he didn't immediately regret. "It'll be fun, I can ride us both out there, no problem."

"Aren't you not allowed to leave?" Her eyes wide, as she added, "Wait, are you even allowed to be here?"

Well, she was half right, but Gauche wasn't about to let her know that. "No, I'm not," he lied with a shrug. "So since I'm already breaking the rules, I might as well get the most out of it, right?"

Mariela looked away, chewing on her bottom lip. Her hand went to a leather cuff on her left wrist, and she rubbed at it absentmindedly. Gauche hadn't noticed it yesterday—she'd been wearing a dress that covered her entire upper body, he realized, except for her hands and her neck—but Mariela had two brown leather cuffs around both her wrists that had seen better days. Both were at least a quarter inch thick and several inches long, covering the entirety of each slim wrist. They were weathered but looked very well made; the cuts they were each covered in meant that they would have had to have been.

"If…" Mariela said finally, her voice quiet and hesitant. "If you're sure, I would really, really like to see my brother."

Gauche smiled wide and nodded toward the other side of the store again. "I'm not going anywhere without a dress for my perfect darling. Help me pick one, and we can get out of here. And, since you obviously won't be visiting your brother dressed in a strange man's clothes, we're sticking with the idea of making it match yours, right?"

Finally—finally—Mariela nodded enthusiastically, giving Gauche a huge smile and squeezing his hand briefly. "That sounds wonderful. Let's go!"

x

"What are you doing here, Gauche?"

Gauche narrowed his eye at Sister Theresa, who was on her feet for the first time since he'd seen her skewered by Licht and those damned light swords. She still looked weak, but she was standing tall with a cane outside her orphanage, proud as ever. Gauche scowled at her as always but couldn't muster the heat that was usually in it. By the way she was using his name and not immediately shooing them away from the church, Gauche could tell that she felt the same way. It just hadn't been long enough since they'd gotten their first good look at the Midnight Sun cultists, and it had been a hell of a fight—one that they almost lost.

"I'm here to see my perfect, darling angel Marie, you old hag."

Sister Theresa narrowed her eyes at him. "Still the same disrespectful thug you've always been." When she turned her head to look at Mariela, her face softened into a smile. "Hello, dear. What series of unfortunate events have brought you into this one's orbit?"

Gauche glared at the nun, but Mariela just laughed and put a hand on Gauche's shoulder. "I don't think I've had a lucky break in my own series of unfortunate events until I met him, Sister."

Sister Theresa raised her eyebrows and looked at Gauche, who looked away immediately, uncomfortable. "I just got her a place to stay and a job at the hideout," he mumbled.

Sister Theresa was quiet for a second, and Gauche could feel himself getting more and more wound up as he felt her studying him. Finally, Mariela broke the silence, asking, "Sister, how's Marlin? Is… is he okay?"

Something about the tone of her voice made Gauche look at Mariela, and the look on her face was… both heartbreaking and confusing. She looked like she was praying, like she really wasn't sure what the answer would be. But that didn't make any sense—if she loved her brother as much as she obviously did and wasn't sure he would be safe at the orphanage, why had she left him there in the first place? Gauche had a feeling that it wasn't out of necessity; he would sleep on the streets if it meant being closer to Marie, and Mariela talked about her brother so fondly that he had to assume that she would do the same if she really was concerned for his well-being.

Sister Theresa nodded at Mariela, giving her a kind smile. "He's fine, dear. Why don't you go on in and find him? You know where he is, he hasn't moved."

Mariela didn't need to be told twice. She nodded her thanks to Sister Theresa before giving Gauche's shoulder a squeeze. "I'll send Marie out if I see her on my way to Marlin, okay?" Without waiting for an answer, Mariela disappeared into the church.

"What are you doing with that girl?" Sister Theresa asked as soon as Mariela was out of view, and she didn't bother to hide her suspicion. When Gauche looked at her, though, she didn't seem upset. She seemed… worried.

"Why does that matter to you?" Gauche asked gruffly. "She loves her brother almost as much as I adore my darling princess of a sister, what other reason do I need?"

"She also has what I would kindly refer to as a familiar look," Sister Theresa said dryly, making Gauche glare at her again, but she just shook her head. "But that isn't the problem. Be careful with her."

"With, not of?"

Sister Theresa nodded slowly. "That girl and her brother. They've been through a lot- not that I would need to tell you what going through a lot looks like or how it can change a person. She's a strong girl, Gauche, but I don't think it would be very difficult to break her right now. So be careful with her, if you're going to get involved with her life. She's been through enough without you dragging her into bad situations."

"You keep talking around her brother," Gauche commented, choosing to ignore her implications and watching the nun carefully. "Why?"

Theresa hesitated before sighing and nodding to a pair of chairs that were set up outside of the church doors. She eased herself into one and waited for Gauche to sit down in the other. His base instinct was to tell her to hurry up; he was burning daylight away from his Marie, and he was already working off borrowed time as it was. But there was something about the gravity of the nun's behaviour that gave him pause. With a little reluctance, Gauche took the seat next to her.

"They're technically nobles," Sister Theresa started, and Gauche raised an eyebrow at her.

"She told me that she was from the Forsaken realm."

Sister Theresa nodded. "They came here from the Forsaken realm, yes, and from what I understand her family had lived there long enough that it was probably all that she had ever known before coming here. They lived somewhere near Sosshi, if I'm remembering correctly. Her parents were killed when a group of cultists were combing through the area and slaughtering whole towns of innocents." Theresa looked at Gauche out of the corner of her eye when she added, "The Eye of the Midnight Sun. Of course."

"Of course," Gauche repeated, his voice thick was disgust. He remembered that village. He also remembered why the name sounded so familiar, now that he was thinking about it. "They were in Sosshi when everything happened a few months back?"

Sister Theresa shook her head. "No, they were in a little village on the way to Sosshi that was razed to the ground because it was on the cultists' path. I believe that Mariela and Marlin were the only two to survive, as far as she seems to know. They ended up leaving and, after a few months, they found their way here."

"That doesn't answer my question," Gauche pointed out, not missing that Sister Theresa had managed to skirt directly around it. "Why do you talk about her brother like he's here sometimes, and like he's not others?"

The nun shook her head and stood, leaning more heavily on her cane than Gauche would have assumed she needed by the way she still held herself. The woman had a regal bearing that made it very easy to believe she hadn't only been a Magic Knight, she'd been one of the best. "I won't tell their story; it isn't mine to tell. All I will tell you, aside from what I already have, is that Marlin is ill. Mariela brought him here in the hopes of finding help… unfortunately, she's been having trouble." Sister Theresa gestured toward the church entrance. "It appears you don't understand how much getting her paid work may have actually helped her. Go and see your sister, Gauche; I'm looking the other way this one time because you've taken in a woman who needs the help more than you knew at the time you gave it. Mariela is a sweet girl, Gauche; don't you hurt her."

Gauche scowled at the nun. "Why do you even think you need to give me a warning like that, you old hag?"

Sister Theresa narrowed her eyes at him and stomped her cane on the ground with a loud thunk. "Go and see your sister before I change my mind, you degenerate, and be thankful I'm letting a thug like you into the church at all."

x

Mariela was surrounded by children, and she had to close her eyes for a second to offer her thanks to God that she was where she was right now. Two days ago, her life had been quickly careening toward its dark, bitter end. Now, she was sitting in the church the same way she'd done for weeks now… except she was in clean clothes that weren't sewn-together rags, and she actually had good things to tell the children who had flocked around her. The orphanage that Sister Theresa ran was fairly big for the size of the church she ran it out of; there were enough children that some of the siblings had to share beds. All thirteen of the children that were currently living there had flocked to Mariela as soon as she walked in, welcoming her back and asking where she'd been and what she'd been doing and did she have any stories to tell them? Mariela had settled down onto her brother's bed, his little head carefully nestled into the skirt of her dress, and the kids had all settled down around her to chatter happily. They listened to her describe the Black Bulls hideout, enrapt, until Mariela trailed off and focused on the little boy she had in her lap. Used to this sort of distraction from Mariela when she was with Marlin, the children easily turned to talking and joking among themselves. Little Marie, as sweet as always, found her way to sit on the end of the bed; she was small enough that she barely disturbed the blankets, and she had a straw doll clutched in one hand.

"How has he been?" Mariela asked her quietly, running her hand gently through her brother's blonde hair. He was sleeping—or, at least, that was how it appeared. To Mariela, Marlin looked like a statue; a perfect little stone cherub, with his mess of curly blonde hair, his softly closed eyes… his breathing barely there, his chest almost unmoving. Mariela had taken to pressing her hand against his sternum lightly, just to assure that the rise and fall were still there. Brushing her fingers lightly through his curls, she almost flinched as she looked down and saw his hair. So rich and golden, it had been growing out snow white ever since the… accident wasn't the right word, but it was the only word she would ever allow herself to use for it.

"He's okay," Marie said, her voice soft and sweet. "He still hasn't woken up, but Sister Theresa thinks that it's getting easier for him to absorb nutrients from the healer that comes sometimes."

Mariela felt her eyes well up with tears immediately and gave herself a moment to carefully blink them back before giving Marie a small smile. "Thank you for keeping an eye on him for me, angel. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Marie brightened immediately and clutched the doll to her chest. "I like to help!"

Mariela held an arm out and Marie climbed off the end of the bed to settle herself by Mariela's hip, letting the older woman wrap her arm around her waist to hold her close. "I know, and I appreciate it so much."

The other kids started to pipe up at that, and Mariela couldn't help but laugh; they always reminded her of little birds, chirping and happily packed together. It made Mariela think of the times she'd had only Marlin to hold close while she tried to keep them both warm at night. Pressing her hand to his chest softly, Mariela calmed at the rise and fall she felt there and let herself bask in the glow of the first string of good luck she'd had since that awful, awful night.

"Where's my darling angel of a sister?" Mariela smiled at Gauche, who had finally made his way into the church and was walking over to the bed they were all clustered around. Marie tapped Mariela's hand and she moved her arm, letting the little girl climb off the bed and run over to her big brother.

"Big brother!" Marie said happily, wrapping her arms around Gauche's neck as he picked her up. He held her close and kissed the top of her head.

Mariela looked up at Gauche with an embarrassed laugh. "I told you I would send her out, then made her stay with me. I'm sorry."

Gauche just shook his head with a smile, turning his attention back toward his sister.

"No, it's fine. Anyway, how's my princess doing?" Marie giggled, and Gauche's nose immediately started to leak blood. Marie, too used to it to care, was already holding out the little straw doll to show her brother as he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket to wipe his face off.

"I didn't get to show you my doll last time I saw you!" Marie bounced up and down in Gauche's arms until he took the little doll from her. Mariela couldn't help but grin as he looked back up at Marie in surprise.

"Is this me?"

"Yeah!" Marie giggled again and clapped her hands, and Gauche had to press the handkerchief he hadn't bothered to put away back to his nose. "Marie made it for me!"

Mariela smiled warmly at Gauche when he looked over at her with a raised eyebrow. The little doll wasn't exactly her best work, but Mariela had to admit that she'd done a good job with just going off how Marie had described her brother. The little shiny silver coin that she'd used for the mirror Marie had said her brother had for an eye under his hair was a detail she was particularly proud of, and she couldn't help but be proud of her work.

Gauche opened his mouth like he was about to say something but closed it again as his eyes settled on Marlin's head in Mariela's lap. Out of habit, she felt herself hold her brother closer and hunch in just a little more over his frail, unconscious form. Gauche didn't seem to notice. He nodded toward the end of the bed in a silent question, and Mariela nodded back. Once he'd settled himself on the bed and Marie on his leg, Gauche opened his mouth but again closed it, looking awkward. Deciding that the least she could do was give him an answer, Mariela sighed in resignation—she was going to have to tell this man who had done so much for her, who did so much for his sister, about the worst mistake she had ever made, one she was going to give her life to rectify if she had to.

"It's my fault," she said bluntly, nodding down to her brother's head in her lap. Her voice was flat and dead as she continued, "The curse he's under. It's my fault."