THE CLIVE/FLORA ASPECT WAS WRITTEN WITH FRIENDSHIP IN MIND.

Aaaand I just realised how ridiculously long this is. And how awfully written this is, as that. Oops. A lot of this is Clive/Lost Future babble btw, but if you get through the babble, I swear there's a nice ending in store for you.

Keep moving, and never look back.

I'd heard these words numerous times throughout my life. Once or twice I'd have to mutter them to myself, just to keep me going another day, though I preferably liked to hear them in the voices of others. (Unenthusiastic reporter British didn't always fit the bill.)

Though, there are acceptions to every rule, and after everything I'd done, I clearly didn't fear lying. Unless in the name of journalism, that was, where I earned a living as a topic-diverse newspaper reporter. Future Luke was my little "vacation", one could say, from brutal honesty and reluctancy to take the risks many in my field took in order to spice up the truth.

(Besides, if I didn't look back, I'd probably lose Flora to one of the creepy Chinese dragons spindling up the walls.)

"Wow," I exclaimed. "How long are they going to keep this up?"

Flora put one hand against the wall and bent her knees, gasping for breath. I could only empathize with the poor girl's efforts to keep up.

"I don't...k-know..."

As we talked, the sirens continued blaring. To say I was in a pact with the person behind all these annoyances was quite a statement to be made. Every now and then I stopped and checked on Flora who was becoming whiter and whiter with exhaustion, but this time, I saw tears brimming in her eyes, her body shaking in distress.

For a moment, her state reminded me of when I'd done a report on a local nursery for the papers years ago. I'd had to maneuver around through a sea of children no older than three, and, of course, they had all wanted the attention of the tall, smart man with the camera around his neck.

Unlike them, I had to pay for my clothes using my earnings, which were, back then, extremely minimal. So as you could guess, I didn't want their messy hands smothering my shoes and trousers with paint and Play-Doh and who knew what else. Instead, I chose to escape with my stationary to the back of the room, and upon doing so I had bumped into someone who contrasted greatly to this scene of chaos - a girl who, according to the people in charge, was knee-deep in traumatic experiences from many care-homes she had inhabited temporarily.

Despite these things being a lot looser back then, I didn't attempt to drip any more confidential information from the nursery. I could see myself that she was an isolated girl, as she wasn't fazed by my appearance like the other children were and chose to sit with only the company of a ragged doll. Misunderstood and ill-fated... Those words applied to both she and I; no more thought was needed beyond that. I tentatively squeezed her hand, whispering to her and watching her face light up with surprise.

Wow, what a charmer I used to be in my youth. (Well, an accidental charmer at that.)

I could never properly comfort anyone, and I didn't strive to be a perfect gentleman like Luke does. (And if I really was the Luke from ten years in the future, wouldn't I be a gentleman already? Or does it really take that long?) Despite this I reckoned, hey, if it worked back then, it would surely work again, right? So I did it. Wearing a smile on my face, I extended my hand out for Flora.

As expected, her initial expression read along the lines of Is he intentionally holding his hand out like that? and at this point I honestly didn't know. That was, at least, until I felt her soft, slim fingers slip into my hand. Mission accomplished. I gave them a quick squeeze before we began running again under the gazes of the dragons, our hands interlinked and my brain trying to figure out how many halls, staircases and obstacles we had left to tackle.

At least there were no more narrow bridges over endless pits. Why the heck did you put those things there, Dimitri? I wondered. Dimitri was a man of science, yet in this case, it seemed he'd focused more on interior design.

But that was only the beginning of the long list of things I could scold that painfully lovesick man for...

"Eek!"

I knew it. I bloody knew it.

Flora's scream ran through me, and I instantly flew to my right. A red lazer beam shot through the narrow space between us, crackling and exhaling puffs of smoke as it hit the wall.

I looked up into the eyes of the dragons. Dimitri, you clever little bastard.

"W-What was that?" Flora wailed.

As she tightly clutched my jacket sleeve, I deemed it unnecessary to answer her. Another zap came plummeting towards us, and like a plank of wood under a chainsaw we separated, only for me to rush back to Flora's side under the lasers soon after and shelter her shaking body.

The prime minister and my grey-haired underling had probably already made a swift escape from the Pagoda, yet we were left here. Stranded. With lasers. A million thoughts rushed through my head on how we could both escape safely, as Flora surely wouldn't be able to run fast down the remaining stairs - at least, not fast enough to outrun the lasers. I was more athletically built, but not by that much. Academics wouldn't work to their best in this situation either - but alas, it struck me.

Like I said earlier, I'm not a gentleman. Being the older carnation of the professor's overly-enthusiastic "gentleman-to-be" apprentice was strain enough on my already breaking personality. No - I'm an actor. My role was Future Luke, a polite and intelligent young man with devotion towards animals and becoming equal to Professor Layton in puzzle-solving prowess and gentlemanliness. As I said those words, I could feel a flame inside of me igniting. I dived in and scooped up Flora, bridal style. It's now or never, I thought. Keep moving and never look back.

Eyes closed, I sped through the lasers.

Now, it was a risky move - I understood that from the moment I chose to do it. And yes, I am a little bit off my nut. But what else was I to do without breaking my character?

Only one thing crossed my mind as I ran. Okay, make that two things.

1. I need to get down the stairs as quickly as possible. Absolutely nothing can stop me - even the occasional lasers stinging my legs.

2. When I get back, Dimitri, I'm going to hang you up by your ridiculous white coat and lazer you myself.

(Just forget I ever mentioned that last one.)

Flora squirmed around in my grasp, her body unsurprisingly light. I wondered if she could smell my breath; I'd had quite a few cigarettes over the while, as little stress relievers that were becoming unsettlingly frequent. Knowing this was a rather - how do I put it? - "ungentlemanly odor", I'd tried to conceal it the best I could with gum. Though I had probably had little success with that. With her head pressed against my chest like it was, she could probably smell my sweat too. (Then again, given the circumstances, it wouldn't be that hard wherever she was.)

As I ran, I remembered the words she had said when we were all at the top of the tower:

"Aww, no fair! Swap places with me, Luke! I want to be in the professor's group!"

Despite her cries, she'd ended up coming with me. I wasn't sure if the path the professor, Luke and Don Paolo had taken was as dangerous as the one we had taken, but unless there were lasers underground, I'd say not.

Flora definitely felt more safe under the care of the professor. I wasn't going to deny that even at the age of 23, I felt an aura of safety around him unlike many others. But our true reason for feeling this way about the top-hatted man would have been extremely different, I assumed.

Mine was namely "the day 10 years ago when the incident occurred". The day that I remembered so vividly, so hatefully, as if it hadn't been 10 years ago, but 10 minutes instead. The day that had been my 12th birthday, something I had been looking forward to for weeks. No matter what nickname I gave it, I couldn't change the fact that it was a day when before my very eyes, my life had changed forever. That particular birthday was one I'd like to forget.

No colorful balloons awaited me. There were no candles to be blown on the cake, no wishes to be made nor presents to be opened. In the end, the only thing I could have blown was the lungful of smoke I'd consumed, and the single wish I could make was for my parents to not be 2 of the 8 reported dead.

The explosion had stripped me not only of them, but my home, too. I wasn't alone on either fronts, and the professor had stopped me from going into the fire after my parents - the memory of "the incident" that was undeniably the clearest. I remember tears spilling down my face, my throat burning from the screams of distress I had cried. I remember kicking and thumping the professor with my fists as he tried to hold me back, begging him to let me go back in and save my parents.

But he already knew that they were gone.

I was a child; my brain was too young to comprehend the disaster of that day. The professor hadn't told me what had happened to my parents, so I thought that they might have been evacuated by the firemen - wounded, but not dead. I thought that they had been taken somewhere with everyone else who had been injured, and I would be able to see them soon. That was my way of coping with it. I just couldn't accept that they, my own parents, were dead. It was all too much for me to handle.

Eventually, however, even I gave up.

I sobbed into the professor's chest, and he held me close to him, choosing to comfort the young orphan over himself, who was also overcome by the grief of his loss. By that point, I'd decided that I didn't really like birthdays anymore.

I wasn't thanking him by bringing him into my plan, was I?

When I began my role as Future Luke, I wondered if he might remember me, but I knew it was unlikely, given the fact that I was supposed to be a different person altogether. I'd end up telling him eventually who I really was if he didn't remember. All because of that stupid prime minister Bill Hawks...

Or should I say, the scientist Bill Hawks, whose lust for wealth got that experiment performed, even though he knew very well it wasn't ready. His greed knocked down homes, killed several innocent people, and yet he was crowned as prime minister, aka the wealthiest man in the country. This world is a sick place sometimes.

Dimitri worked close to Hawks back then. He lost someone due to the man's foolishness as well, so at least we shared something, even if that thing was a desire for revenge and nothing else. Sometimes I sympathized the man a little. I mean, he had had to work with Hawks. But as wreckless as it had been, this wasn't necessarily a "crime".

Bill probably sucked up to the very few cameras and said "he was completely anonymous to the error" and "he was eternally apologetic for the damage". (What a tool.) The media didn't speak much of the incident either, and I now understood that someone with as much money as Hawks could easily pull the strings of the reporters behind the scenes. If someone objected, he could just present a wad of cash to them. Simple.

It wasn't only that, however. He was a committee of group assault as well. The victim in question? Professor Layton. I'd been a witness to that very incident, on a dark and gloomy night after my errands for Constance Dove were finished. From beyond the alleyway, deep voices had shouted, and despite not wanting to leave Ms. Dove any longer, I'd run to investigate. The men, including Bill Hawks, were just leaving when I arrived. (Even now I can't identify any of the others, but maybe it's best for them that they stay anonymous from me.)

I peered out further from my spot behind a bin and saw him - the man who'd saved me that day! But he was in a rather unfortunate condition. The poor professor had been beaten to the point of a month coma, as I later found out, purely for trying to discover the reason behind the blast.

Being a child, I hadn't known what to do at that point. Using the small amount of change in my pocket, I'd called for an ambulance via the nearest phone box, and through the same call directed the men to the professor's bruised and bleeding body. Soon enough, the ambulance arrived. I both heard and saw it's siren, and had legged it back home at the same moment. I didn't care if Layton knew I had saved him or not - he was going to be okay now, I hoped, and all I wanted to do was to repay him for what he'd done for me all those years before.

From that day on I'd sworn that someday, even if I had to tear the bars from my own prison cell, I'd make Bill atone for his crimes. Everyone saw him as a man who was warm and good at what he did - bleh, even retorting compliments towards that dullard makes me feel sick - but Dimitri and I knew the deep dark secrets that were buried under his ego.

That occurrence left me wondering if I myself was safe, now that people as nice as the professor were getting assaulted on the streets of London.

Many many years later was when I began my first and currently only job as a reporter for the Times. Constance Dove had unfortunately passed by then, so she couldn't see me as I stepped into the heavy hearted world of journalism, but she wouldn't have liked what I had become. Here, I accidentally met Dimitri - a very reluctant-to-cooperate Mr. Allen.

Now that I think about it, he never told me who he'd lost, even though he was running his own individual project to save this person using my wealth. I'd told him about my parents, but he'd probably lash out at me if I even tried to bring it up - besides, he was only a pawn to my much bigger and better plan. I'd never asked Layton who he'd lost either...though it was clear that I'd never get the chance.

Maybe deep inside he was as mad as I was. Maybe Flora had had some kind of experience with Layton akin to mine. I knew it would be bad of me to ask, not to mention suspicious, as Luke should know the connection of the two.

Maybe Flora was suspicious of me.

Oh, how I remembered that conversation on the top of the observatory, when she asked me in that cutesy voice of hers, "Big Luke, what's the future Flora like?"

Unlike my usual unforgetting self, I'd not had an answer prepared. Luke would have had close connection with Flora throughout the years, no doubt about it, so it wouldn't be far-fetched for him to know what she was like or what she was doing in her life. Heck, Flora would probably send her cucumber sandwiches through the mail for him if she could. In the moment she'd asked, I was dumbfounded.

On the other hand, Flora seemed blissfully unaware of the threats the world could pose upon her. If Layton was 100% certain he knew who I was, surely he wouldn't have let me single-handedly escort his daughter to "safety" - Don Paolo and I were on equally bad terms, perhaps myself even more so.

Unless...he trusted me?

Regardless, I needed to bring Flora out alive or relatively unscathed. Layton's suspicion of me would grow to new heights if I did anything but that, and I could already tell the cogs were clicking in his head, aware that something was abound behind his back. Something as fishy as "a letter from the future" wouldn't faze a man like him, but that was how it was planned. He was playing his role in my play perfectly, and I wanted this play to last as long as possible before he unraveled the secrets of Future London and the depths of my revenge.

Relentlessly, I'd still made this my objective several minutes ago. (Had it really been that long?) Before I knew it, the goal of said objective had become reality. I opened my eyes and felt the fresh air sting my cheeks. The lasers suddenly disappeared as I escaped the unnerving dragons, the endless potted plants that tripped me over, and the Family goons.

Goodbye, stuffy Pagoda, and hello, Chinatown.

"Wow... That really was a close one, wasn't it, Big Luke?"

Feeling her arms release from around my neck, I gently hauled Flora down to the floor. I realized that I'd never been this protective of a person since being an adopted child of Constance Dove, eventually aiding her as an elderly lady rather than vice versa.

"Yes," I answered. "That was quite the, er, "trust exercise"."

Flora brought both her hands up, making her fingers dance against each other. She refused to look me in the eye until mid conversation, something I didn't notice until she began to speak.

"I...I don't know how to thank you for saving me back there."

"Oh?" I idly adjusted the hat on my head - it had tipped a little bit on my run - whilst passing her a smile. "It was nothing. A gentleman always helps a lady in need."

...Shit.

As Flora giggled, I made a note to myself; don't slip into the gentleman trap again. However, I knew I would probably fail to follow this. Maybe I might just make a gentleman out of myself one day, if purely by accident.

Just as I thought that dreaded Pagoda was far behind us, I caught my leg with my hands and remembered them - the lasers that had caused us the trouble. I wasn't sure if I wanted to see what they had done to my legs; for all I knew, there could have been a hole shot through them both. But I peeled my trouser leg up anyway, just to check.

Pfft. Only a measly burn. Ridiculously small for the amount of effort I put in, but I digressed, idly poking at it with my index finger. Flora pulled an adorably distraught face at me.

"Stop that!" Her right hand reached towards her left, rolling up her sleeve, then vice versa.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Attending to your wound, silly!" she cried back.

Frantically her fingers tugged at something behind her head. I didn't have time to comprehend the phrases of objection in my own head before she bent down and dropped a light kiss on the burn, wrapping her thick red ribbon around my leg and tying it in a large bow.

"Perfect!"

My eyes widened as they saw this...bold fashion statement. The smooth texture of the ribbon was less comfortable than I had predicted, but even a man like me couldn't dare break the sweet girl's heart. I sighed and chuckled to myself.

"You seem to have had some practice with this wrapping, Flora," I said. "Have you done this before?"

Flora nodded enthusiastically. "Yep! The professor sometimes comes home from his adventures with cuts and bruises."

No surprise.

"I often cleanse his wounds for him and bandage him up and make him tea. He always says it's unnecessary and I shouldn't trouble myself, but..." A smile spread across her lips. "I love being able to help!"

"What a wonderful little nurse you will be," I laughed.

For that small moment in time, I was completely oblivious to my goals. I was supposed to be just toying with Layton and friends, not forming bonds with them - especially when these bonds were ones I knew I couldn't keep after my true motives were revealed. But perhaps I could do something to at least sustain them, even if it was just for a little while.

I looked down at the ribbon around my leg, then up at the smile on Flora's face, and I swore something. If I could keep anyone safe in my fortress attack on London, anyone in the country of England, it would be her.

I've started falling in love with the Lost Future again, and now I feel like writing something with Clive and Claire...

Story art drawn by the very talented Sorachi!