Illya was annoyed. No, annoyed wasn't enough to describe her mood. She was frustrated with the lack of results in her research. What research? Well, you see, for nearly a month now, Illya had searched the Einzbern library for clues as to Berserker's legend. Berserker didn't know what she was up to and only came in to usher her to bed and get her for meals. Mostly, the enigmatic man kept busy by helping the homunculus with cleaning. For weeks, Illya poured over books, searching to no avail. She had come up empty handed day after day, until now.

She glared at the unassuming journal she'd found hidden behind some books. The only reason she had spared it a second glance was the edge of paper that stuck out of it. Curiosity prompted her to open it, and she came face to face with an ancient photograph.

The photograph was yellowed by decades of age, most likely taken around the turn of the 20th century if she had to guess, and was incredibly fragile. But even with the damage caused by time, she recognized one of the faces in it. Her Berserker stared up at her from the left side of the photo, a smile on his lips. He looked slightly younger in the photo, but not by much. His body language said that the other people were very close to him, perhaps they were friends? All of them looked young, ranging from mid-teens to early twenties. Berserker himself looked to be in his mid to late teens. Despite the jovial scene portrayed, all of them had weary eyes, eyes that had seen too much.

She made to turn the yellowed photo over, but before she could, she froze.

Maybe there was a reason why Berserker had been so vehement against telling her his name.

Maybe she shouldn't look. But she had to know.

But her curiosity won out, and she turned it over.

(Left to Right) Allen Walker, Howard Link, Yuu Kanda, Lenalee Lee, Lavi Bookman, was printed on the back in faded cursive.

"Allen Walker," She murmured, letting his name roll over her tongue. It suited him, she thought with a slight smile.

Berserker was Allen Walker, and Illya felt guilty about ever finding the photo in the first place.

Illya didn't eat much of her dinner that evening. Her stomach churned with frenzied butterflies at the idea of Berserker's identity, making it difficult to eat. How was she going to tell him that she knew his real name, and possibly bring back painful memories? She apparently let her anxiety show on her face, because Berserker excused the two of them, and pulled her outside. His face was strained with worry.

"Master, is something wrong?" He asked softly. Illya's breath hitched. The butterflies flew into a hurricane. Her mind wild with anxiety, she looked up at him.

"... Allen...Walker." She managed to say after a few moments of struggling to speak. Immediately, the atmosphere turned cold. Berserker looked a combination of shock, rage, pain, and grief.

"Master… where did you learn that name?" He finally said, his voice level but wavering. Illya's heart sank more in her guilt. She opened her mouth to speak, but decided against it. So she reached into her coat's pocket, and carefully pulled out the yellowed photograph. She held it out to him, and he took it gingerly. His eyes widened when he took in the image.

"I found it in the library. I was trying to locate your legend." Illya said, guilt filling her when he looked at her with tear-filled silver eyes.

"I wish you'd never found it." He whispered. He turned on his heel and ran off. She was left behind, legs frozen in place, unable to chase after him. In that moment, as she watched him leave, Illya had never felt more alone.

Berserker didn't speak to her for a week. Illya tried engaging him into talking with a " Hello, Berserker!" or a "How are you, Berserker?" but alas, her efforts failed. Salt was added to the wound when he refused to even look at her. And yet, she didn't blame him for a moment. She had betrayed Berserker's trust, and now she was paying the price for her crime.

A week after the incident, Illya cornered Berserker in the hall. His gaze was diverted to the ceiling, just so he wouldn't have to look at her.

"Berserker, talk to me, please." She said. Berserker didn't meet her eyes. Illya wasn't about to give up, though. With shaky fingers, she wrapped her hand around Berserker's. Shocked by the contact, Berserker looked down at her, and the butterflies stirred in her stomach. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed him until now.

"I'm sorry, Berserker. I just… my curiosity got the better of me." She said. She was answered by Berserker kneeling before her and wrapping her in a hug.

"No, Master. Please don't apologize. It's not your fault." Berserker said softly. Illya squirmed so she could look him in the eye.

"But it is, Berserker!" She said, only for Berserker to shake his head.

"No, it's not. I'm to blame," He said, giving her a sad smile, "I should have just told you. The only reason I was upset was because you found a picture of my friends. I miss them." They sat there for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. Illya was the one to finally break the silence.

"... Do you want to talk about it?" She suggested. Berserker shook his head.

"There are some things that are best left undisturbed, Master. My past is one of them." He said. This time, Illya accepted that. If he didn't want to tell her, she wasn't going to pry this time.

A/N: Yo, readers. MikaMikaBOOM2.0 here. Just to let you know, I wrote this while sleep deprived. If you notice anything that needs to be fixed, tell me in a review. I'll fix it as soon as I can.

~MikaMikaBOOM2.0