Hello! and happy new year!

As usual I own nothing and both world belong to their original creators.

What Ace didn't understand about their mentor was the pace he pushed them at. He still needed to prove that he was a better bet than their predecessor was. It may have been three weeks, but Ace wasn't about to push their luck on their continual survival.

The training done under учитель(teacher) Tyr was not only limited to physical aspects. It was included many subjects and wasn't limiting to one single language. It was a great thing to have formal teaching and have the focus of a teacher. Tyr would have discussions with them regarding different topics that would have no clear answer. Tyr would not give clear answer to these topics, but would converse with Ace to see which direction that would take them. (What is good and bad? What counts at good? Who gets to decide this?)

Ace favorite lessons is the ones of social history of societies. The magical communities had intricacies that were different than the non magical ones. The location and time played a great part in the way that many societies reacts. He was still not impressed in any way with the magical community of Britain still. The more he learned about the history it was hard to be understanding. The corruption and casual bigotry that his parents fought against was for naught because the government was a mess that their enemies took advantage of save their skin. That the 'winning' side let a fake peace pass through and focus more on suppressing the 'dark magick'. What really surprised him was the short sightedness of this decision. To ignore the other warning signs of the rot that was at the very foundation of the community. He was in no way impressed with the decision of Dumbledore either.

Sure it was impressive that he defeated Grindelwald, but he only did so when the Dark Lord was getting close to his home. It was irking that all the other fighters in the war were almost forgotten under the light of Dumbledore. His grandparents had fought in the war and were recognized and remembered by other counties and communities. Grandmother Dorea was known to be quite the powerhouse on the battlefield and Grandfather Charles was devious of trapping the enemies in traps with his transfigurations. The accounts of their battles were fascinating. Tyr had actually met them and fought with them near Lyons, France. It was great to get first hand account of their family and even pictures of them.

Tyr watched their apprentice as he recounted the time in France during Grindelwald reign of terror and the meeting with their grandparents. He seemed to be riveted with the way he remembered Dorea power finesse her way through the battlefield like a battle mage and strike fear in the enemy the way a true Black would. Charles was also very devious in his fighting. The transfiguration was brilliant and was especially good to help get patients to healers and scout and overwhelm the enemy.

He was sure that bothe Charles and Dorea would have loves to meet their grandchild regardless of the biological and spiritual gender difference. Dorea would have been incredibly smug. She would have taught little Cosmo the way to take advantage of his situation and use both his gender in life and magic wise. They would have been glad to raise Ace and avoid the magic hating non-magical relatives, if they would have lived past their affliction with dragon pox.

The church windows were not illuminated as the usually were when the sun was out. It was raining outside and they had taken refuge in the church until the worst of the of the rain was over. While their clothes were sticking to their bodies and the it was chilling their body.

Two bodies were huddled together trying to keep warm on the side of the pews. The two children were watching the stained glass as the rain kept it hitting it, almost memersized as they watched the drops trail on the glass. The light that would pour through the stain glass was minimal, but it was great effect with the rain drops and the heavenly images above them.

''Mukuru? Do you think that we're bad?'', Oz asked. It was suddenly and odd. While she was prone to going on tangents and dragging him to 'adventures', but from time to time there was an seriousness and depth to their gaze that always took him by surprise. He always thought it was the aftermath and result of the 'care' her relative gave.

''No'' , he replied, ''why do you say that?'' he asked.

''Well, we steal and we haven't had a good life so far, or maybe people are not good to us. Do you think that we are bad is the reason we haven't found a good life after we lost our parents?'' she said. Oz hugged her legs to her chest and leaned into him, seemed to have lost herself in her thoughts. He pressed closer and laid his chin on her shoulder.

''No, I don't think we are responsible for others and their bad actions. Why would we be the cause for bad people and their shitty attitude? I think we were just unlucky to meet them.'' he responded. He used to think the same thing after kaa-san's death. The months in the orphanage were hell and he still remembers trying to cover the younger kids and getting more food to try stop being hungry all the time. It was odd that homeless he may be, but he wasn't hungry like before and the happiest since kaa-san's passing.

''Do you think God cares?'' she asks, ''That he takes pleasure in knowing that we suffer, even kids?'' she continued. Now that was harder to answer.

''I don't know, but free will makes some people kinder than other, we just happen to be the result of others''. He said. She turned her head to rest her forehead to his eyes closed as she brought on of her hands to his hair.

''Hmm, I guess, God or not I'm glad I got to meet you.'' she replied with a small smile. He closed his eyes and leaned in relishing this moment. With wet clothes clinging to them and taking refuge in a church of god that may or may not have led to their meeting, it was enough to know that he wasn't alone and that life could be okay if only for that moment where it was just Cosmo and Mukuro.

Mukuro woke up slowly, body hurting and tears on his face. 'Ah, just a dream'. He thought almost detached in his cage with two more other boys wondering what fresh hell he'd have to face.

Somewhere in Russia Oz woke up with tears and the image of rain, stained glass, and grief. Grief for the loss of that contentment and happiness. Most of all for her friend.