A/N: To prove to everyone that I am always writing despite the lack of updates, I've decided to publish some of my newer projects. If you've chanced a look at the options on my poll, I havestarted most of them, but I won't be publishing those anytime soon since I'm already biting off more than I can chew. I pretty much use all my free time to write, but I'm not always working on what my readers expect of me.(x Haha, well I hope you enjoy this new installment of mine!(:

Disclaimer: No~!

Chapter 1

Time Frame — Afternoon of November 1st, 1863

—3rd Person POV—

~Allen~

"… Is he dead?" were the first words Allen managed to discern through the depths of unconsciousness; and they certainly weren't the most comforting.

"Don't be such a dunce, Neah, the kid may look like a train wreck, but he I'm sure he's alive…" This statement was followed by someone gently prodding him, and with a small, pained groan, Allen forced his heavy lids to sluggishly flicker open, his blurred vision obscured by a pair of near-identical faces and swaying, reddish-mahogany locks.

"Oh, shit! Is that Allen?!" the first voice shouted in a panicked tone, which belonged to the spiky-haired male. What was his name? … Neah? But why did that name sound so familiar…?

"It can't be…" the other boy said doubtfully, and Allen's mercury eyes slowly flitted to him, and despite the drastic age difference, Allen would recognize those big, kind brown eyes anywhere.

"… Mana?" the white-haired teen mumbled, utterly baffled, and wondering if he was dreaming; it was the pain running rampant through his battered body that shattered that illusion.

"Bloody hell!" Mana cursed, swiftly ordering Neah, "Come on! We better take him back to the house!"

Allen recoiled in pain, as the pair worked together to lift him up, jostling him as they hurried from wherever it was that they'd been. Fortunately for the hurt boy, the trip wasn't overly prolonged, and before he knew it, he was being set down on something soft and cushiony with his head propped up—a couch, maybe?—and imperceptible shouts flitting above his head, as the pair scrambled around trying find anything they could use to patch him up. Allen was unsure as to the passage of time that transpired, and he was pretty sure he'd drifted off numerous times, but when he was finally able to fully open his eyes with clearer vision, it was to find himself clean, dressed in a pair of comfortable pajamas and tucked underneath a blanket, and in addition, could feel the copious, and surprisingly soft, bandages encasing most of his body. Allen felt that this was a bit of overkill, but he was plenty comfortable, so why complain?

"He's awake!" someone exclaimed from his left, and glancing up so fast that it caused him to reel, momentarily feeling woozy and nauseous, he never did find out who it was that had spoken, because by the time his head cleared, it was to find a pair of earnest expressions before him.

"Allen?" the teenager who he was absolutely sure was Mana, asked hesitantly. Allen could only stare at him with wide, earnest eyes, drinking in his appearance. The teen before him looked so innocent, with large, bronze colored eyes gazing at him worriedly, wavy strands of dark auburn hair framing his youthful face, the rest pulled back into a low ponytail.

Eventually, the white-haired teen forced himself to speak up in a choked up voice, feeling as if he were about to cry, "Mana?"

It seemed this was the only response the pair needed, because they suddenly sighed in relief, exclaiming, "Allen!" and pulling him into a fierce hug. Too befuddled with the situation at hand, Allen could only sit there, unresponsive, wondering how on earth he'd ended up here of all places; in a place where both Mana, and his brother, Neah—he was unsure as to how to feel about him—were… alive. When they finally pulled back, Neah was the first to demand, "Allen, what happened to you?! You don't… You don't look anything like yourself…"

Allen blinked in surprise, looking up into his honey colored eyes. "W-what do you mean?"

Mana and Neah glanced at each other in apprehension, before Mana spoke up, "Your hair; it's white… And how on earth did you get that scar?"

Self-consciously tugging at his snowy locks, Allen briefly wondered where this world's Allen could possibly be, because it certainly wasn't him. Ultimately, he answered in an honest voice, "I'm not really sure what to say…"

Abruptly, Neah's scarily gold eyes narrowed into a glower. "Quit pissing around, Allen! You disappeared for over a week, and we go crazy searching for you, and when we finally find you—hurt and not even looking like yourself!—you can't tell us the damn truth?!"

Allen's apathetic reaction only seemed to enrage the once-Noah all the more, until Mana placed a calming hand on his shoulder. Neah deflated, and Mana turned to him with earnest eyes, saying, "Please, Allen? Won't you tell us what happened? Why you disappeared?"

"That's the thing…" Allen answered truthfully, "I don't really recall how I even got here… To be honest, I hardly remember either of you…" He winced slightly, taking in their brokenhearted expressions, but Allen knew pretending to be someone who he didn't even remember being, would only cause him more trouble later on. Allen also attempted to recall how it was that he'd arrived here in the first place… He'd been in some sort of battle, that was for sure, but it was all so muddled; the last thing he remembered was fleeing to the Ark—clearly desperate, as he'd left the Ark for the use of the Order, and it could've gotten him caught—and pleading with it to, Take me away, take me away. Please, take me home! Allen almost cursed, knowing he could have ended up back at Headquarters with the use of those words, but it still brought up the question: how had he ended up here? In a place he'd never been to before?

Mana abruptly spoke up, gazing at him intently and asking, "What are the first words that come to mind, when you look at me?"

Father, Allen instantly thought, but rather said, "Circus clown."

Neah smothered a laugh, earning himself a glare from his older brother. "One time!" Mana exhaled deeply. "See, you two? This is why I'm so insistent on attending school; we can't grow up to be circus clowns!" A small smile tugged at Allen's lips, remembering how his Mana had always been so insistent on educating him.

"Aww, don't be such a stick in the mud," Neah snickered, before sobering and turning to Allen. "What about me?"

Traitor. But, wondering how he would respond, Allen replied, "The 14th Noah."

Neah burst into more laughter. "Wow, I can't believe you still remember those games!"

"Games?" Allen blinked.

Neah instantly quieted, and Mana asked with a frown, "Do you not recall our games? Where Neah would be the evil Noah—"

"—Mana would be the helpless human—" Neah interjected with a small grin.

"—and you would be the heroic Exorcist, pretending your arm was actually a weapon in disguise," Mana finished up, concern coloring his warm eyes.

For a small, scary moment, Allen wondered if the whole war had been a figment of his imagination, and if this was his true reality, but reaching up to feel his rough, jagged scar, he knew he could have never concocted all of the pain he'd endured.

"Do you remember how you got that?" Neah questioned him somberly, referring to where his fingertips had landed on his scar.

"Just a lot of pain," Allen mumbled, trying to push the horrifying, and slightly indistinct images away from his mind. Attempting to change the subject, Allen latched onto the thing that had piqued his interest so far. "So, school, huh?" The concept was a novelty for Allen, who had never in his life attended one. The idea seemed at least somewhat interesting, in any case.

A mischievous grin lit up on Neah's face. "It's alright, Allen! No need to worry about that! We won't be leaving your side until you're feeling much better!"

"Very subtle, Neah," Mana shook his head with exasperation. "And you're already behind enough as it is, so I'll be staying with Allen, and you'll be going to school in order to catch up at the very least."

A protest was ready at Neah's lips, but Allen frantically waved his hands, ignoring the twinge of pain from his abrupt actions. "No, no it's alright. I'm sure I'll be fine by morning, and it'd probably be best if I caught up as well…" As to what he was catching up on, he had no idea, but ultimately, he was curious. It had been… such a long time since he'd been anywhere safe, and though Allen was still perplexed with the bizarre situation at hand, all he could keep doing was stare at Mana in wonder. He wasn't his Mana, but a version of Mana nonetheless, and for him this would be worth it.

"I'm not sure this would be such a great idea…" Mana frowned.

"Yeah, Allen," Neah added, "You were only missing for a week, so we've been able to excuse your absences thus far, but well… You'll probably end up being bombarded with questions as to what the hell happened to you with the way you look now. Having to handle that on top of your injuries? It's definitely going to be a pain—ah, no pun intended." He smiled sheepishly.

"I've managed worse," Allen reassured with sad eyes, though it only seemed to make Neah feel worst.

"Aw hell…" Neah cursed under his breath, allowing his head to fall limp in his hands with a defeated sigh, as he tried to imagine what Allen could have possibly endured in order to be able to say those words, before shaking his head in aggravation.

Looking between the two with a distressed expression, Mana clenched his fists before taking a deep breath and doing what he did best: making a joke to lighten the situation. Nudging Neah in the ribs with a forced smile, Mana said lightly despite the impenetrable tension, "C'mon Neah, are you saying you're too much of a wimp that you can't keep the hordes off of Allen? I guess I must've underestimated you little brother; I should've escaped with Allen when I had the chance!"

With a playful growl, Neah shoved him aside. "Shut it, you tosser," he said with a grin. "I'm totally up to the challenge! I'll keep you safe Allen!"

Allen took on an innocent expression and asked sincerely, "Why can't Mana keep me safe?"

"Hey!"

Mana smiled smugly at his younger brother, before it turned sincere once he directed it towards Allen. "Sorry, you know I'm in the year ahead, so Neah would be more convenient."

The white-haired boy sighed dramatically. "I guess if he's my only choice…"

This only instigated more bickering, and Allen had to smile fondly as he watched the dynamic duo. He hadn't been lying when he'd made his preference for Mana clear—even if he had said it jokingly—but maybe this Neah wouldn't be so bad. Despite that the Neah he knew of was a traitorous Noah, Allen had to admit that even the Noah were once human too. He'd just have to make the best of this situation.

"Hey Allen, are you hungry?" Mana suddenly pulled him out of his thoughts while simultaneously pushing back a flailing Neah.

Oh yes, he could definitely get used to this.

Time Frame — Morning of November 2nd, 1863

It wasn't until the early hours of the morning, when Allen awoke from habit, that he was able to get a good look at "his" room, which Mana had led him to the previous night. Slipping out of the large, fluffy bed with naught but a wince, the sixteen-year-old gazed curiously about the room; with Mana and Neah having inherited the great, old residence from their deceased mother, it was only the three teens living on what he was told were the outskirts of a large and prosperous town. Allen's room was plenty spacious, the area at the center taken up by his canopied bed, which faced his doorway. To the right, from where Allen stood beside the bed, feeling like an intruder, a series of wall-sized windows stood, facing the side of the house, though the view was currently blocked by burgundy colored drapes; before that, a desk stood in place, with a small, unused vanity off to the side, along with a wardrobe. Most of the left side of the room was taken up by a baby grand piano—and no, it was not the same one from the ark; the keys were rightly colored and it was made of what Allen guessed to be mahogany. It also appeared to be gathering dust.

Other than that, there was not much else in the room to reveal what the other Allen could have possibly been like, though there was some clothing carelessly strewn about, much to his annoyance. The only thing remotely personal was the picture frame standing alone on the bedside table; gingerly picking it up, Allen stared at it somewhat fascinated. Squished between Mana and Neah, the other Allen stood, a seemingly carefree teen with long, auburn locks and an impish grin. A sizzling stroke of jealousy hit Allen in that moment, boiling at his core and consuming his thoughts with bitterness and resentment; fervently wishing that it could be him in that picture. That it could have been him that lived this life; that he didn't have to be an imposter…

But what if you're not? said the small voice in the back of his head, and Allen shook his head furiously, because the thought of dreaming up a whole war, a whole life filled with pain, was ludicrous. Roaming eyes landing back on the vanity, a morbid idea entered his head. I wonder… Making his way over, Allen wiped away the gathering dust with a small grimace, and stared expectantly. I knew it, Allen thought with defeated sigh, before frowning slightly. The normally grinning shadow that stood at his back no longer held that crazed smile. In fact, it appeared more unstable than usual, the swirling shadows losing focus at its edges in order to create a much more blurred and even more indistinguishable figure; it appeared all the more monstrous.

"What in the world…?" But rather than further contemplating it, Allen stepped away from it, figuring that if the Noah was having trouble stabilizing himself, all the better for him. Glancing back at the rest of the untidy room, Allen set to cleaning the place that he would now be frequenting as a distraction from his tumultuous thoughts.

It wasn't for another hour that Neah abruptly barged into the room, calling, "Hey, Allen! Time to—whoa! What happened in here?"

"Ah," Allen smiled sheepishly from where he was organizing the stack of papers on his desk. "Just a little spring cleaning."

"It's still winter…" Neah pointed out dryly. "And what do you mean, "cleaning"?! Mana will kill us both if he finds out you were straining yourself!"

Allen simply blinked in surprise, and then a small smile tugged at his lips. After leaving the Order, and being on his own, it had been a while since someone had shown that kind of concern for him. "No need to fret, Neah. I'm perfectly okay, if not a little sore. Most of the cuts I got were shallow at best, and it's mostly the bruising that's causing me any sort of pain."

"Still…" Neah shook his head, spiky hair flopping, before finally relenting. "Alright, can you get dressed on your own?"

"I'll manage," Allen nodded with a smile, until Neah stepped out of the room. Quietly padding across the plush carpet, Allen opened up the mahogany wardrobe, donning on what appeared to be a school uniform—if the crest on the navy blue jacket was anything to go by. The attire was not too far from what he usually wore, as it consisted of a white dress shirt, a vest, and navy slacks. The only new additions were the coat, and unfortunately, a standardized tie.

"Allen! Hurry! We're running late!" It was hard to distinguish the jumble of voices, but rather than trying to figure out who said what, Allen simply snatched the satchel hanging off of the desk chair and ran out after the pair, grateful that he really had been honest when he'd said that he was fine, because it was surprisingly hard to keep up while simultaneously trying to dodge townspeople.

Well, this is certainly an interesting start to my day, was the only thing Allen could think as he was abruptly forced to jump over a baby stroller. "Sorry, ma'am! Ahhh, wait up!"

"Neah Walker?" called the strict, female voice.

"Here!" Neah gasped, barging into the room, Allen following not too far behind, both leaning over and huffing. "D-ditto!" Allen added, leaning against the other boy.

"Yet another tardy for you, Mr. Neah Walker," the teacher tsked unsympathetically. "And I see Mr. Allen Walker has finally decided to grace us with his presen—" The teacher abruptly cut herself off, when she carelessly glanced up and finally took note of Allen's appearance. If their entrance hadn't caught the rest of the class' attention by now—which it really didn't, as they had become accustomed to it—this certainly did. Glancing over to said boy, they stared unabashedly, hardly recognizing their once popular classmate. The teacher's expression contorted into a sneer. "Tattoos and hair dye, Mr. Walker? My, my, what a disappointment, though I can hardly say I'm surprised by your unruly actions. Taking after your father, I see."

Up until this point, Neah had been burning a hole into her with his glower, but at her last statement, he suddenly barked out a laugh.

"And what, pray tell, has amused you so much?" she asked coldly, turning her ice-like eyes onto Neah with unconcealed distaste.

"Look, lady, just because they both have naturally red hair, doesn't mean Cross is his father," Neah laughed, heading over to one of the pair of empty seats in the back, with Allen quickly following his lead as he intensely listened to his words. "And frankly, you really need to get over that resentment of yours; I honestly doubt Cross ever truly liked you, even when you two dated."

Snickers erupted throughout the room, as her face flushed an angry red. But rather than punishing Neah like Allen had expected, she simply turned without a word and began preparing for the lesson, silently fuming with embarrassment.

"Liking that rebellious look of yours, Walker!" someone mock-whispered, and the class erupted into more titters. Allen sighed; this was going to be a long day, and the mention of Cross being here had certainly not uplifted his mood.

It wasn't until their lunch break, that Allen got to see Mana again. The novelty did not last…

"Hey, Walker! Mind telling us what's with the new look?" someone called from across the courtyard. Glancing up, Allen saw a gaggle of teens heading their way from across the small courtyard, which currently housed all of the student population; though that wasn't saying much. The school they attended turned out to be a two story, brick building the size of maybe two or three houses, and slightly resembled a church with the bell tower that stood proudly at the top. Each year shared all their classes, as there was only 20-30 students per grade, and Allen had come to learn that only those with money could make it in.

As he curiously observed the group headed their way—consisting mostly of his classmates—Allen startled, taking notice of a smaller member, who appeared to be a grade level or two younger, also skipping alongside them. Swiftly patting Mana on the shoulder, Allen discreetly pointed towards her before they grew too near and asked hurriedly, "Is that Road?"

Mana turned towards him, from where they were lounging on a bench, Neah sitting at their feet and shamelessly leaning against their now-numb legs, with an anxious frown. "You're still having trouble with your memories, Allen?" Noticing the white-haired boy's guilty expression, he sighed tiredly and said with a forced smile, "Yes, that's Road; she's Neah's on-again, off-again girlfriend." At this, he nudged Neah teasingly with his leg. "Hey Neah, how's it going with Road?"

"Shut it!" Neah groused, moodily biting into his sandwich.

Mana turned back to Allen, his smile now more genuine. "They're currently off."

Allen chuckled, but immediately quieted his response, noticing that their classmates had reached them and were nonchalantly sitting around them, taking out their own lunches and conversing with their friends. Allen watched them with an odd expression, wondering why they had migrated over to their small spot in the corner; maybe the other Allen had been good friends with these people? The thought of so many friends was slightly unsettling—he hardly even knew their names!—but nonetheless, a warm, fuzzy feeling bloomed in his chest, and so Allen ate with a cheerful grin, occasionally bantering with Mana and Neah.

It was about halfway through their forty minute break that someone—probably the same guy from earlier—insisted on hearing the cause of Allen's rebellious streak. Before he knew it, they had all quieted and stared up at him expectantly, seeming eager for the story. Allen momentarily fidgeted, unsure as to how to reply, but noticing Neah about to speak up in his defense out of the corner, Allen swiftly cut him, knowing they'd only grow all the more curious if they deflected their questions. Taking on a relaxed smile, Allen leaned back and began, "I'm not as defiant as you guys seem to think, really. The tattoo's only temporary,"—yeah right—"And it was more of a dare from Neah. Now the hair, that's where the story really gets interesting…" At this, they eagerly leaned in. He could handle this. If there was one thing Allen Walker was good at, it was pretending.

With this, Allen began to spin a tale on how Neah's antics had led to his hair being dyed a brilliant white—both Walker brothers had seemed surprised at first, but they eventually caught on, adding in extra bits and pieces to the story with their own mischievous grins—finishing off with a, "And in conclusion, it was really all of Neah's fault!"

"Hey! It was not!" Neah protested, playfully indignant, while their classmates erupted into laughs, throwing out their own jabs towards Neah. Allen could only smile in satisfaction, glad to see that he'd thrown his classmates off the curve.

"Of course, why am I not surprised?" Allen was easily able to detect Road's dry voice out from the rest, and so glanced at her, taking in her half-annoyed, half-entertained expression with no small amusement, which only increased Neah's grumblings.

It was the tolling of the bell that finally scattered them—though not technically, since they were all headed to the same class; some were just slower going about it than others.

"What's next?" he asked Neah, once he'd said his goodbyes to Mana.

Neah's face momentarily darkened, taking on the expression that always arose every time the mention of his "lost memories" cropped up. His smile seemed strained, but nonetheless he answered, "Music class."

Allen balked. Music class?! He didn't even how to play instruments—unless the Musicians abilities managed to come naturally to him, but he wasn't sure how that would work out with his unstable form. Plus, Allen had only ever attempted to play piano while controlling the Ark; he wasn't sure the innate ability would transfer to over to other instruments. But hey, maybe it wouldn't be a hands-on lesson. Allen could only cross his fingers.

The violin.

He played the bloody violin.

Allen awkwardly held the instrument, unsure as to what to do with it, before clumsily attempting to imitate the other three classmates that also shared the same type of instrument, still feeling apprehensive as he held the bow dangerously close to the strings. Should he even try and make an effort?

"You alright there, Allen?" Said boy jumped slightly, having not noticed Neah making his way over from the other side of the room, where a grand piano stood, in which another boy sat; presumably the person Neah had to share the piano with.

"Err, y-yeah," Allen smiled nervously, eyes going wide as one of the violin players drew her bow across the strings, the soul-wrenching music causing goose bumps to raise along his arms. How on earth was he going to be able to keep up with that?!

"Your injuries aren't causing you too much trouble, are they?" Neah pressed, face creasing into a frown. It seemed that was all Allen had been witnessing lately, Mana's and Neah's carefree expression being too few and far in between.

Allen offered him a reassuring grin, despite his own uneasiness. "I'm perfectly okay, just a bit worried. I'm completely out of practice." Or more like I've never practiced once in my life.

"Ah," Neah nodded, appearance alleviating. "I'm sure you'll be fine, Allen!" And before Allen even had a chance to ask what the heck they were supposed to be playing in the first place, the golden-eyed boy had already sauntered off, back to his beloved piano. Allen deflated, but knowing he could put it off no longer, he straightened up and placed the bow back along the strings, and in the same way he did when playing the piano, he attempted to let instinct take over, slowly dragging the bow up and down. Shockingly, the instrument did not emit screeches like Allen had been expecting, but rather, his hands began to naturally fall into playing the Musician's song. Satisfied after he'd played the first couple of notes, Allen released his tension and brought the violin down, only to find most of the room gaping at him. What did I do this time?! Allen couldn't help but think.

"That was, ah, very impressive, Mr. Walker," the teacher finally spoke up from underneath his white, bushy mustache, adjusting his glasses while directing him with a penetrating gaze.

"Um, thank you, sir…" Allen fidgeted, feeling unsure as to why everyone was openly staring at him with such odd expressions.

"Though I am slightly perplexed," he began, and Allen knew this couldn't be good, "As to why you've been holding back on us, young man."

Allen blinked, still uncomprehending. "Holding back, sir?"

"Please, Walker," a girl near him, the same one that had been playing her own violin earlier, scoffed with a slight glower darkening her features. "We've all heard you play multitudes of times. It was only a week ago that you were torturing that poor instrument! And now you just barge in here with those remarkable skills, acting as if it's nothing?! You've been holding us back all year, you bloody prat!" The brunette's glare intensified, breathing heavily after her little tirade, cheeks flushed with anger.

Allen wanted to face-palm; of course, the one time he attempted to get something right, it completely backfired on him!

"Now, now, Lydia, there's no need to berate the poor boy. I'm sure he was simply… shy," the teacher finally offered the feeble excuse for him, surprising Allen slightly.

"Right, shy," Allen muttered.

"Anyway, class…" the male teacher began, thankfully pulling the attention away from Allen, who could only hope that the day would soon be over.

"Finally," Allen exhaled loudly, trudging over to the front gates of the school beside Neah. Going to school felt like the longest experience he'd ever had, and he felt slightly pathetic for being so lost half the time. Despite not having the slightest clue as to what was going on in each of his classes—which consisted of Literature, Government, Music, and Arithmetic; lasting an hour and a half each—Allen was essentially, somewhat fascinated; he'd thought he had known everything he needed to know, but there was just so much more! Allen had never understood why all those books had appealed so much to Lavi, but now, he was beginning to think he had an idea…

"Allen! Neah!" Mana, who'd already arrived to the entrance before them, called out, and Allen's weary mood immediately lifted at the sight of Mana's cheerful grin.

"Mana!" Allen returned the grin, hurrying over to him with the eagerness of an obedient dog.

"Allen, how are you feeling?" the bronze-eyed boy's smile softened, thinking back to Allen wounds with sad eyes.

"Ah, perfectly alright," Allen smiled sheepishly, knowing he'd strained himself somewhat with all the antics they'd pulled throughout the day, but he couldn't be happier. They began their journey back home, each teen lost in their own thoughts, until Allen abruptly took notice of something very wrong. He'd been so distracted with the going-ons that he'd completely forgotten!

"Hey!" Allen abruptly called their attention, coming to a sudden stop. "Have either of you seen Timcanpy? I just realized that he's been missing ever since I got here!" Allen rapidly scanned his surroundings, hoping to spot the flighty golem, part of him wondering if the duo would even know of the golem. The most likely answer was no, but it was worth a shot.

"Oh, Tim?" Mana asked with a knowing smile. "Don't worry too much about it, Allen. I've actually been keeping him outside; you know how he gets when he's excited. I didn't want him hurting you by accident."

"Hurting me?" Allen narrowed his silver eyes in puzzlement.

"Yeah," Neah nodded. "I actually released him this morning, before I realized we were running late. He'll probably meet us sometime on the way, like he usually does."

"Wait, what on earth are you two talking about?" Allen insisted, eyes flitting between the pair with confusion. Why would Tim hurt him—sure, he bit him on occasion, but not when he was injured; at least, not usually.

Mana parted his lips, about to answer, but a resounding bark cut him off.

"Here he comes!" Neah warned him with a laugh.

And before Allen knew it, he was painfully being tackled down by an overgrown, golden, Labrador puppy enthusiastically licking every inch of him.

"T-Timcanpy?!"

A/N: Originally, I came up with a really long, complicated plot for this, but then, realizing it would take time and effort to write, I downsized it to a really simple and easy-to-write story. I already came up with an ending for this, and though I doubt anyone will be satisfied with it, I likely won't change my mind. So in summary, this fic shouldn't be too long, but knowing how scatter brained I am when it comes to writing, I don't guarantee that I'll finish up quickly. But summer is here for me, so maybe I can get more progress on all my stories!:D

Let's cross our fingers everyone!

Review?(: