A/N:

My first Karneval fanfic... Eeep. I dunno - I think it may be too sappy, but it is possible that this happened... I mean, before Gareki became a thief, he would've been less hardened and a little sweeter, right?

Untraditional Families

The concept of a family had been one very unfamiliar to Gareki. He understood the traditional definition, that it was a group consisting of two parents and their children living together as a unit or a group of people related by blood or marriage, because he had thought of the people who had sold him as family. Yet from what he had learnt, a family was also commonly associated with unconditional love, or at least acceptance and warmth. This eluded him, for how could you love another person unconditionally, regardless of the horrible, unforgivable sins he or she may commit? Those people he had lived with had always told him that if he did not bring back enough money, he would not eat, and this had occurred multiple times. That, he had supposed, was the traditional definition of a family, whereby the two parents lived together with a child or children, and everyone contributed so that they all could keep going. He understood affection, somewhat, where you cared for someone or something, similar to how Tsubame had felt towards the stray dog she had brought home once. He had wondered why she did that, when they had barely had enough to feed themselves. Yotaka and Tsubaki had sided with him on this, and Tsubame had reluctantly let it go. That he understood - affection meant that you cared for something, but, in the end, logic could win out and you would let it go. He supposed his parents had either felt affection for him, or nothing at all, since they had sold him when there was not enough, as was practical, for he must not have contributed sufficiently, or he must have made a greater contribution by being sold. This was certainly not love, though, because from what he could tell, love was irrational. It defied logic, was always giving, unfailing, and never gave up. Had his parents loved him, they would not have given up, would not have sold him. Tsubaki and Tsubame had told him that they were a family now, but he doubted it, because families, outside of traditional meanings, denoted that you loved one another, and they were certainly not a traditional family. Apparently, a group of people unrelated by blood or marriage could forge strong bonds and become one of these untraditional families, yet while what he was with Tsubame, Tsubaki and Yotaka could be one of those groups of people, he could not believe that they would love him, a person they just met, who had done absolutely nothing to help them or to be deserving of their love. But Tsubaki had given him a name, and though he had thought it meant nothing, perhaps it meant that he was somebody to them, not a nameless stranger, a nobody. She had given him wires and machine parts to do what he liked best, and Yotaka and Tsubame had waited for him to eat, rather than taking all the food and leaving him to fend for himself. He had thought that they were only offering him a place to stay, had only fed him at first to keep him alive, and that in itself would have been great kindness. But she was even providing food for him, making sure he was happy and healthy, despite how she had told him that she couldn't earn enough money by herself, had had to go to that man who she thought so kind, so great, just so that there was enough money to support him and the other two kids, and he supposed that meant that she felt affection for him, at the very least. After all, it had to mean something, as no one had ever given him anything before, not even a name. He had begun to do his best, to be worthy of their love, so that perhaps he could earn it, then he could become part of their unofficial family. If he contributed enough, it meant that the benefits of keeping him outweighed the costs, and therefore he would be allowed to stay, allowed into the family. He had protected Tsubame at school, helped her get revenge when she was teased, snuck extra portions of food to her or Yotaka when they weren't looking, because the food would have been theirs if it weren't for him, and after being on the slave ship, he had been starved so badly that he could go for a long time without food, gotten used to never having enough. He had done as many chores as possible, tried to get a job, but failed because he had no education, and so had resorted to stealing to help them. When Tsubaki had found out, she had been furious, and he hadn't understood why.

"Huh? What's wrong with it? It happened to me all the time on the ship. Why are you mad?"

"Gareki, did you like it when things were stolen from you on the ship?"

"I didn't like it, but I didn't hate it either. I lost food, but it's too bad for me, because I was the smallest and easiest target. That's the way things are - you're weak, you lose out. You relax, or lose caution, and your things are stolen. If you don't watch out, you're blindsided, and that's bad. The people on the ship, they weren't careful, and they ate poisoned food, so they got sicker and turned into Varuga. The shop owners weren't vigilant, so they had stuff stolen. That's all. You said that you don't earn enough money to support us, but you too should be more cautious. Stop going to that man, I'll make money somehow. I don't need anything, so give my food to Tsubame and Yotaka. Stop buying things for me, just stop going to that man! If you get me scraps from the factory, I'll make gadgets and sell them, and I'll steal more money for you and food for myself."

At that, Tsubaki's expression had twisted into such a sad one, and she became misty eyed. She had reached out and embraced Gareki, and it had felt so warm, so comforting, like the time she had brought him to her home, and she told him not to worry, he was part of the family, she would make sure they were safe, and yet Gareki didn't believe her - she was giving unfounded claims, and he had merely repeated, over and over, to stop going to that man. He had done all he could after that, had given all his food to Tsubame and Yotaka, did not steal because somehow that made Tsubaki sad. He had moved out, because if he didn't steal, he couldn't provide enough money for them to keep housing him, and had tried to stop going over for dinner so that the twins could eat his share, but they had come to find him while he made machines one night, and he had put on a mask of indifference and nonchalance, to hide how happy this made him, because they had waited so long for him to go eat, had even come to drag him over for dinner, and he thought that having people that cared this much for him was the best thing in the world, that could never be replaced by money or food. He made small machines from metal scraps, working until his fingers bled, until he hardly slept at night, sold them to as many people as possible. If he had been knocked down by a person for bothering them at an inopportune moment, he had gotten right up, turned away, and found a new customer. He had rummaged for scraps of food that were thrown out, and the little padding that he had put on had fallen right back off, leaving him thin and weak. Tsubaki had worried, but he had waved it off, lied that he was eating enough and that he was only growing, but she had been unconvinced, he had stayed the same size, only seemed taller and lankier because he was so thin. Tsubame and Yotaka had been remarking on increased portions, but Tsubaki had stopped going to the man for awhile, just to appease Gareki, and everything would be just peachy if only Gareki hadn't been suffering like that, because Tsubaki certainly hadn't been increasing the portions, in fact, they had been becoming smaller, and there should hardly be any money at all, yet Gareki was keeping them all going. He kept insisting that he was fine, but he went home late every day, making sure that he sold every single one of his machines, before going home to work on more, only coming for dinner because he knew that they would wait for him to eat. He had mysteriously collected an adornment of bruises, couldn't conceal the swelling on his arms and legs, the cuts and scrapes, his limbs practically mottled blue and black and huge bags developing under his tired eyes. Finally, Tsubaki had had enough, and dragged him over one morning as he passed their house, forced him to sit and eat, had prepared as much food as she could, before he left for the streets again, and while he had protested that he was fine, that he had eaten enough, that she should give this food to the other two, or eat it herself, once it became clear that she would not, he had practically inhaled the food, in a way he had not since he had first been brought over, starving and exhausted, confirming Tsubaki's suspicions that he had been starving himself. When he had finished, she had sat opposite him and asked how he had collected those bruises, and the first thing he had said was: "I stopped stealing, so you mustn't go back to the man."

oOoOo

Tsubaki had nearly cried at how, even tired and exhausted and starved, he had been concerned for them first and foremost. She had reached out to touch his hand, covered in bruises and cuts, and smiled warmly at him, told him not to worry, to tell her what he had been doing. He had looked at her warily before answering, slowly and cautiously, as if afraid she would disapprove.

"I need to sell everything I make every day, but sometimes people are impatient, and I bother them at the wrong times, or sometimes I need to go from house to house, and they don't like me disturbing their peace, so they hit me. But I never steal, so you aren't upset, right?"

It took all her self control not to break down and cry, because it was not fair that he had to have such a hard life, that he had to struggle like this.

"I'm not mad. How much are you eating? Don't even think of lying, I know you don't eat enough."

Gareki hesitated a little, then murmured, "The baker throws out some bread every day. He doesn't want it anymore, so it's fine, and I've lived on less than that."

She had been stunned into a horrified silence then. He had been digging in dustbins for scraps? This was wrong. She had promised, promised to protect him, to look after him. But he was starving himself, being beaten, going hungry, to provide for them instead, went out of his way to make her happy. She knew he didn't want her to, but she knew she had to go back to the man, there was simply not enough. She didn't show it though, only told him that she was going to make Tsubame and Yotaka watch him like hawks so that he ate, and that she had to leave for work, but he had better come and eat dinner, if not she would drag him back, and he would really get it then. He had nodded, but she could already see him analysing the increase in cost it would take for him to earn enough in order to continue increasing the portions for Tsubame and Yotaka, and it broke her heart that he had to take such measures, when he was barely twelve. Gareki was so small, so fragile and thin, that he could easily be mistaken for a ten year old, yet his eyes were so old, held the type of maturity that came from being thrust into the harsh world on his own too early, to young, but having to claw his way through it all nonetheless. Tsubaki realised then, though she had known it before, it had never hit her as hard as it did then - that Gareki was fighting so hard, going to such lengths, so that Tsubame and Yotaka didn't have to, so that they would not have that kind of maturity in their eyes, did not have to worry about much more than being teased in school or getting bad grades. She pulled him into a tight hug, realising just how thin he was through his clothes, feeling the way he collapsed into her, nestling into her warmth, because he was so weak and exhausted. And she wanted to tell Gareki to just rest for today, to just sleep and recover his strength, but she had heard of how he had been sold at eight, realised that he must believe that a person who did not contribute would be abandoned, sold, discarded, and that how hard he was trying to contribute told worlds of how he treasured this family, how he so desperately wanted to be part of them, but wanted them to be safe above all, and so had moved out, despite how he wanted to call this place home, he did not want them to worry, to have to provide for him, to lose food or money on him. He was doing so much, giving them all his money rather than feeding himself, staying in an old, abandoned empty house, to reduce their expenses, even though she hadn't done much more than use some of that money to feed him, to allow him the warmth of a family, even if only for a meal, and even then he did not eat it. She knew, even without asking, that he already thought he had taken too much by eating that simple meal, that he worried that the scraps she provided would go to waste and worked his fingers to the bone, wracked his brain to ensure that every little bit was fully utilised and performed to it's fullest potential. So he would never just stay and sleep the day away, when he could be out there, proving that he was useful, that he could contribute, to provide for what he thought of as his almost family, so that he could make the kids' days a little brighter, a little happier, give them a little more food so they could be just that much fuller. And all she could do was to hold him, will strength into that tiny body, and do her part to provide, so he would have that much less to worry about. If that meant going to the man Gareki did not trust, so be it. She planted a small kiss on his soft hair, and murmured, "You know, love isn't earned, it's given, and we already gave it to you long ago. You're part of our family already, you don't have to prove anything."

Gareki had stared at her, disbelieving, before he broke out in a small, happy grin she saw all too rarely, and replied, simply, that if that was so, then he had to keep working to be deserving of that love, and Tsubaki realised that he was afraid they would retract their love if he did not make sure that they felt it was worth it. Gathering his gadgets, carefully packed in a small box, Gareki darted out of the house, filled with more energy and vigour than she had seen from him in days. It hurt to think that even that small scrap of acceptance had been such motivation for him, but Tsubaki forced herself up and into the kids' room. She hated to wake them, but she needed to tell Tsubame and Yotaka to watch out for Gareki, because she was afraid that one day he might push himself too hard and break down from exhaustion and hunger, that one of the lives she so cherished would be lost to her forever, because she did not have the means to save him.

"Guys, wake up." She kept her voice soft and gentle, sitting herself lightly on the bed beside the two nestled bundles of warmth and reaching out to brush their faces ever so gently. Their eyelids fluttered open to reveal amber and blue orbs, and Tsubaki had always marvelled how two identical twins could have such different eyes.

"Onee-chan? What's wrong?" Yotaka asked, blearily rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"I need you to watch Gareki for me. He hasn't been eating enough, and sleeps to little."

"What do you mean, doesn't eat enough? You've been giving us bigger portions, since Gareki started working." Tsubame piped up, and Tsubaki was horrified at just how long Gareki had been donating his food. She was unsurprised that he had made such a good thief, though, because apparently no one had ever once caught him sneaking his food away, would not even have suspected it had he not been growing thinner and weaker, had Tsubaki not been the one dishing out the food, had she not known exactly how much she was giving them, and how she certainly hadn't been able to afford more.

"I haven't been increasing the portions, Tsubame. If anything, there's been less to go around." The twins stared in horror at what this implied.

'But we always see him eating, at least few bites every meal! Wouldn't we have noticed if he was giving away his food?" Then Tsubaki realised how clever Gareki was.

"Eating a few bites every meal." She muttered. "Just enough to trick people into thinking he eats, so that nobody grows suspicious of his empty plate. He scrapes it clean every night, too, just so that nobody realises that he wasn't the one to finish the meal. He looks out for interesting birds at dinner, points them out to distract us, then distributes his food. But he always puts the last scoop into his mouth when we turn back, or scrapes the plate clean so that we see that he finishes the meal." Tsubaki hadn't even noticed she was speaking aloud, but Tsubame and Yotaka certainly did. They stared at each other, noting the truth in that statement, speechless with shock and horror.

"Onee-chan?" Tsubame's voice was shaking.

"Ah! Gomen nasai guys. Just help me keep an eye on him, okay? Threaten him and force feed him if you must."

"Hai!"

"Alright then, I'll count on you. I'm going to work now, do your best in school!" With that, she tugged them into a swift embrace, dropped small kisses on their fair hair, and stood, flashing them a quick grin. She watched as bright, happy smiles built on their faces, and left in a chorus of goodbyes.

How she wished she hadn't left just to do something that would upset Gareki more than not eating would. She wished that she wasn't about to waste his effort and hard work by doing what he had worked so hard to prevent, but she couldn't let things continue that way. She would go back to that man, so that Gareki's burden could be lifted, so that Yotaka and Tsubame could eat more and be happier, so that their family could be a little more carefree.

oOoOo

For a while, everything had been better. The kids were eating more, Gareki was getting food, and there had been enough for her to support her grandfather in the hospital. Even better, there was a mysterious benefactor who had been supplying a good part of his fees. Then, late one night, Gareki showed up on their doorstep, when the kids were already in bed, holding out another bundle of money, which he gave them every day, although he usually delivered it during dinner. He was covered in fresh bruises, rapidly purpling, and Tsubaki's chest ached, so fiercely, for him.

"Poor sales today?"

"They're rising the damn taxes for shop owners, made everyone angry."

As usual, Tsubaki tried to make him take the money, but he lied to her so smoothly, so often, she could never tell if he was telling the truth when he told her that he already took all he needed. She smelt a lie, but couldn't call him out on it. Then he had said, abruptly, "I told you to stop going to that man."

"I'm not."

"You can't lie to me. Your food has the same taste it had when you put that stuff in it. Am I not doing enough? I'll work harder, then, promise. But if you keep going to him, I'm gonna start stealing again - you can hate me all you want, but I'll make sure you're all safe, no matter what. If you keep this up, I'll steal, and if you don't like it, I won't show my face near you again, but I'll take away all your food and replace it with good food." He had looked so fierce then, so defiant and angry, but it was laced in hurt and sadness and fear, and Tsubaki was so aware that this was such a huge sacrifice for him. She had reached out, and he had flinched instinctively, curling into himself, waiting for the blow that would hurt all the more because it came from someone he cared so terribly about. But she had only cupped his cheek, promised to stop, told him he didn't need to worry, and that the next day there would be nothing in the food.

"You told me I didn't need to worry once. But I did. It was right to worry, because if not I wouldn't notice it, and I would have been blindsided. Yotaka says he's been feeling weird lately, he's been taking Tsubame's share of the medication. He's sneaky, and clever, and he loves you guys, so he does it, to make sure Tsubame's okay. If you keep this up, Yotaka could die." Gareki's voice was low, and he kept his eyes on the ground.

"Okay Gareki, okay. I'll stop giving them the medication. I'll look for a better job too, so you don't have to work so hard."

"I'm fine. I'm used to it."

"You shouldn't be."

"I am, though. Can't help it." That, unfortunately, was the truth.

"Alright then. Rest well tonight. Sleep early, yeah?"

"Depends. I gotta make sure you never have to go back to that man again. Don't go back to him. You shouldn't depend on people like that. "

"How do you expect us to keep taking money from you if you say things like that?"

"I'm different."

"How so?"

"You said you loved me. I love you guys too, so it's different, 'cause that guy sure as hell doesn't love you." He said, ducking his head, but not before she caught sight of reddening cheeks as Gareki blushed furiously.

Tsubaki was touched anyway, because it was the first time Gareki had said and expressed so clearly that he loved them - with the boy, understanding how he really felt usually involved reading between the lines and piecing scraps of evidence together to come up with a logical picture of what he'd really meant.

"Why not? He could be my secret admirer, you know?" She teased. "Anyway, I like him." Gareki's head shot up.

"You love him?" His eyes were huge and terrified, and Tsubaki had never seen him display emotions so openly.

"I'm not sure. He's nice." She confessed.

"Nice people who like you don't make you give your siblings untested medicine when they know you need what they have. Don't go to him."

"I know, Gareki. I'll stop." Gareki eyes her suspiciously for a moment, then nodded and turned to leave.

"Gareki!" Tsubaki called out, and he turned.

"What?"

"Are you happy?"

"Yes." There was no hesitation.

"Why?"

"Because you saved me, and your home was warm. You let me come for dinner everyday, wait for me to eat, and you let me call you my family. And you said you loved me, nobody's ever done that before." He seemed very embarrassed, face redding in a way that had absolutely nothing to do with the cold. "Anyway, I love you guys too, so you need to stay safe. You gotta be safe, always." With that, he turned and ran off, leaving Tsubaki stunned in the doorway.

oOoOo

Yet a few days later, she had been found dead, and Gareki had found her wounded corpse one morning, had been certain that she had gone back to that man, even though she had promised not to. He had been numb at first, shocked, had found a large white tarp to place over her, and left in search of Tsubame and Yotaka. He had slipped into their school, found that it was recess, and had simply grabbed the twins with a short "Come with me." A teacher had seen them leaving the school, had chased them, but he had ignored him, ignored Yotaka's and Tsubame's protests and squirming, couldn't feel anything, only continued on the seemingly endless trip back to where he had found Tsubaki's body.

When they had seen the white tarp, familiar blonde hair fanned out around it, the twins had stopped dead, went deathly white and silent.

"Is that…" Tsubame's voice had been trembling.

"Tsubaki." Gareki affirmed.

"Is she…"

"Yeah." At that, Tsubame had collapsed to her knees, her wail of pain and sadness and agonising wretchedness resounding in the cold air. Yotaka had dropped to her side, and turned to Gareki.

"How can you be so sure?"

"She's dead, Yotaka. I know dead, and that was it." Yotaka nodded silently, sadly, and turned back to comfort Tsubame, putting his arm around her trembling shoulders as she clutched at his shirt, as if afraid that he, too, would leave her. The teacher, who's name was John, had opened his mouth, wanting to chide the dark haired boy for his tactlessness - didn't he know that the two children had just lost their sister? Didn't he know that they were orphans, that she had been practically all they had left? John had turned accusing eyes at the boy, who evidently didn't understand how hard it must be to lose a loved one, and then he had seen the dead look in the boy's eyes, the despairing, defeated slump of his shoulders. He had noticed the boy's ragged, too large clothes that were nearly in tatters, had noticed the bruises all over his body. John saw how the boy was only the twins' age, how his eyes carried a rough, wild edge under the sadness, and even below that, a fragility and brokenness that told of how the child had seen too much in his short life, how fast he had been forced to mature. He observed how the boy flinched every time Tsubame's breath hitched, how every sob brought a pained look to his face. John realised, then, that he had sorely misjudged the boy, that the boy did know what meant to lose a loved one, because evidently Tsubaki, Tsubame and Yotaka were precious to him, and he had lost one of his treasured people. So John had reached out to the boy, placing a gentle hand around the boy's shoulder, and the boy had crumpled then, had folded over and dropped like a stone to his knees, as if the additional weight of John's arm had been too much for him to bear, on top of all the the weight he already had on his shoulders, yet he was silent as a grave even when his scraped knees slammed against the hard, cold ground. And a small, clear tear had slid slowly down the boy's cheek, his dark bangs falling to cover his eyes.

I told you… I told you not to go. It was Gareki's only thought, and he had repeated it, over and over in his head, like a mantra. It was a sad scene that cold morning, four figures on their knees on the ground, kneeling in pairs, utter despair lacing the crumpled figures of the three children, sadness making the air heavy and oppressive. Above them, the sky was gray, and the air was freezing, as if with the loss of Tsubaki's warmth, the world had frozen over.

That had been the last time Gareki had cried.

oOoOo

With Tsubaki gone, there was one less person to provide for the family, and Gareki had practically stopped sleeping, so busy with making machines to provide for them, but it wasn't enough. He watched as Tsubame and Yotaka got thinner and thinner, their faces growing weary as the strain of trying to juggle school, food and their grandfather's hospital bills built up, and his heart broke. Finally, one night, he pondered stealing again, because he could no longer bear watching the last two people he cared about suffer. He had told Tsubaki that if she went back to that man, he would steal again, yet Gareki remembered offering to stay away from them if he did steal, should they not want him around. Since Tsubaki had never actually objected to that, to him, this meant that if he were to steal, he would probably be rejected by them. But he had to try - Tsubame and Yotaka were starving, there wasn't enough to cover the old man's hospital fees, and the two children needed to at least complete the last year of school if they wanted any chance of getting a job that required an education. He idly noted that he no longer thought of himself as a child.

He started small, stealing food and supplies, then began to scale up, gathering accomplices to break into shops at night, or leaving strategically placed machines to overturn trucks of food so that the boxes rolled their way into the bushes, where Gareki hid, waiting to collect them. The twins began to fill out again, smiling brighter, happier as the strain was lifted from their shoulders, never even noticed that Gareki was the one taking that weight and adding it to his own load. To him though, taking the burden was better than seeing the twins strained and weary. But now, Yotaka gave him odd, disapproving looks if he saw Gareki with his accomplices, and Gareki returned them with an angry, defiant look. If Tsubaki had been there, she would have seen that it was laced with hurt and betrayal, but she wasn't, and Yotaka was incapable of reading emotions or reading Gareki as well as his sister could. He began distancing himself from Gareki, giving him harsher and angrier looks when he saw him, and Gareki wanted to cry - didn't Yotaka know that he was doing this for him? Didn't he know that the only way for their burden to have been lifted was to take it onto his own shoulders? Didn't Yotaka understand that he didn't want to do this, didn't want to lose their love, their kindness, their family, but because he wanted them to be safe he would do anything, anything in the world? Hadn't Tsubaki told him that they loved him, that he had nothing to prove? Wasn't love forgiving? Gareki loved them, and he knew that he would never abandon them just because of something they had done. They could steal, cheat and lie. They could kill, become mass murderers or monsters. They could kill him, and he would never turn his back on them.

It struck him then, that perhaps Yotaka didn't love him? Perhaps they weren't a family anymore, because Tsubaki was gone? Had Tsubaki been their only link to him? Had their family been broken? Then, one day, the door to their house was locked when he went for dinner, and from outside, in the dark, cooling dusk, he saw Tsubame and Yotaka eating in the warmth of their house. They hadn't waited for him today, evidently didn't want him there, seeing as the door was locked. They hadn't come out to find him and drag him home, hadn't made sure that he ate every bite of the warm food placed before him. His heart had frozen, cooling the ice in his veins and stopping him in place. When his heart started beating again, it worked at double time to make up for lost time and pounded like a hammer against his ribcage. Gareki's breath hitched, and he stumbled away, chest heaving, gasping breaths leaving his lips. A long, pained whine came from the back of his throat, a cry he had tried to stop. If anyone had been there, they would have seen how the boy looked like an abandoned puppy, lost and alone and broken, but there was no one there, and Gareki was all alone in the empty road.

He realised that the twins must have rejected him because he had stolen, cursed himself for being so upset when he should have been expecting it. It hurt so much though, that they would leave him, even though he had had no other choice. He decided not to see the twins anymore, because they must not want to see him, must not want him to be part of their family, and he should respect their decisions, even if it hurt. He turned away, thinking through his next plan.

He should strike bigger - if the kids no longer wanted him around, then it did not matter what he did, they would not miss him and it would not hurt them. Before this, he had not dared to make a really big strike, in case it was traced back to him and the twins got caught up in it. Now, though he should get huge sum of money for them to stockpile, to at least get them through school and the next year's worth of food. Even then, he hesitated, because if he did that, he would have to leave, so that there would be absolutely no chance that the twins would get involved. Telling himself to stop being selfish, that no matter what, those two people must be safe, he decided that he must at least settle their food, their final year of school and most of the old man's hospital fees. This should at least give them less to worry about.

oOoOo

That last night, after the final raid, Gareki had broken into the twins' house as they slept, placed the huge sum of money in the drawer, and loaded their storeroom with plenty of extra food. Earlier that day, he had sent a letter to the hospital, saying that he wanted to pay more of the old man's fees, and to tell the old man's relatives that the cost for the machinery had dropped and therefore the fees had decreased. He had made it absolutely clear that the two children were not to know of the benefactor, and that he was to remain anonymous.

As Gareki left the house for the last time, his already broken heart felt like it was being ground into dust. He took one last look at the house where the children slumbered, a look full of longing and sadness and finality. Quietly, under his breath, he muttered, "Well then. I'm off." and turned away, memories of saying that exact line to them once, when the house was warm and safe and happy, when the twins had chirped goodbyes to him and Tsubaki had smiled softly at him, told him to take care and rest well, playing through his mind. He never looked back.

If anyone had seen him, they would have noticed that the boy was limping horribly, that his arm was hanging uselessly by his side. If they had gotten closer, they would have seen the ragged cut across his back, injuries gained courtesy of his raid, when a man had noticed him and attacked. Gareki had known that if he did not get away, the children would never get the money they so needed, would have no support left. Desperation had lent him strength and he had knocked the man out, but not without wounds. The imaginary watcher would have marvelled that the boy had been able to bring the children all those boxes of supplies in that condition, would have noticed the air of solitude that was already wrapping itself around the child. But again, there was nobody to notice, and again Gareki left on an empty road.

oOoOo

Two years later, Tsubame would find out who her grandfather's benefactor really was, would clutch at the doorframe as she crumpled to her knees, tears pouring down her cheeks, because she remembered that Gareki had never abandoned them, that they were the ones who had locked him out, that they had thought that he was a different person when he had looked differently at Yotaka. She would realise that this was Gareki that they had been talking about, that he had never shown his emotions clearly, that he had probably been trying to hide his pain, that he had probably tried to keep them away because he had worried for their safety. She would realise that he had been looking out for them all those years, that he hadn't changed at all, that he had continued to protect them and in turn neglected his own happiness, his own health and safety. He was the exact same person, but they had turned away from him, so no wonder he had left. Yet he had continued to pay their grandpa's fees, he had visited their grandfather at least once, if the staff had seen him and had heard their grandfather calling his name. She had known, always would know, how much he had wanted to be part of their family, but despite that, he had threatened Yotaka when Yotaka had gone to him once, turned them away, so that they would be safe. It must have made Gareki so, so sad - hadn't Yotaka told her? He had said that Gareki had told him that what he did every night were "things that would get them killed", and asked them how much longer they wanted to "play siblings". There had been a clue in those words, a hint of how much he was sacrificing for their safety, and a hint of the betrayal he must have felt when they had locked him out that first night, but she had never noticed it. And then she would remember that when he had told her that she wasn't alone, she had told him that he had left them, had left them lonely and sad. But hadn't it been the other way around? Hadn't they denied him the warmth of a family, even just for a meal, hadn't they never said goodbye? Hadn't they left him first? When they had tried to ask him to come back, hadn't it been too late, because they had locked him out once, and that one time would have broken him?

Tsubame would recall how, when she had told him that he had left them, Gareki's face had twisted to show shock and hurt and sorrow. She had been almost out of her mind with grief, but at least she had said goodbye to Yotaka, had spoken to him one last time. His final words to her had been soft and kind, while Gareki had been left abandoned and alone. Gareki hadn't cried, but his face had looked so sad, he had looked like he was crying. She would know that must have broken his heart, and she would be filled with regret, because she had been so cruel, so selfish, had told Gareki, who had sacrificed so much, worked so hard for them, that she wanted to die. She had told him that the benefactor would take care of her grandfather, and would be full of guilt, because she had tried to take the easy way out and die, leaving Gareki to be the one to support their grandfather and lose the last person he had once called family. She would cry out his name, in a voice brimming with anguish and apology and remorse, but she would know that it was too late, that it had been years since they had left him, had broken him and ruined their family. She and Yotaka had deserved to be lonely, but Gareki hadn't, yet he must have been the most lonely of the three. And for that she would be so sorry, but there would be nothing she could do but move forward, and do as Yotaka had desired of her - to fly far away, and lend her wings to these wingless people, because Yotaka had protected her, and had been killed, Gareki had protected her, and been abandoned and lonely, Tsubame had protected her, and she had lost her life. She would be done with being protected, and it would be her turn to step up to the plate. She would make her decision then, and she would destroy Kafka, so that nobody else would suffer like she, Yotaka, Gareki and Tsubaki had, use her abilities, her body to crush them into tiny, irreparable pieces and obliterate them.

A/N:

So, uh... yeah. Hope you liked it and please drop me a review or two, so I can improve this. Thanks for reading! ;)