'The bird fights its way out of the egg. The egg is the world. Who would be born must first destroy a world. The bird flies to God. That god's name is Abraxas.'

The black-haired boy never really put much thought into this quote, it's something that he's read a thousand times now, yes, but he's never really thought of it this out of context of the story before; he hadn't needed to think about it out of context before, not until now of course.

But, now he reads it, and rereads it again, but this time in the green haired girl's rather scruffy handwriting rather than the printed text, and he's not surprised that it has caught her eye at all, no, not when it suggests rebelling the system and making one of your own, the idea that the current system must be broken before another could be placed, that is exactly the metaphor represents her and her morals and her goals.

Such a good quote, there are so many levels to it. You can only be born once you have broken the egg. To break the egg, you must break the world. To be born, no, to be known, you must first break the world. Ha. Typical of the green haired girl, fits right in with everything that she stands for, not just the chaos that will come with the braking, but much rather the order that will follow it, not that he could see her following that new order of course.

Maybe that's why she adds the bit about God. God's word is law, and order comes from that, but the black-haired boy cannot see her in that position either. No, his green haired friend would never be a God, she doesn't have it in her to be so uninvolved as a god needed to be. No, she is much of the bird in the quote, she is much of the fighting type, the rebellious type.

'The bird flies to God. That God's name is Abraxas.'

Strange to add this quote. It's an add on, her metaphor doesn't need it. Except, when he rereads the fact that she's met someone, and he couldn't help but raise his eyes at that line, it causes him to think.

'The bird flies to God. That God's name is Abraxas.'

Abraxas is the name of the god of the demons. Their world was just filled to the brim with them.

He can't wait to meet him.

His first instinct is to, of course, ask Hide about it.

(His second instant is to, of course, ask Hide about it. His first to agree immediately to her wishes and demands, but, the last time he followed his first instinct about something was when he saved those ghoul children and that resulted with him having a profile with the CCG with a rating and everything, and that really, really was not a good thing, unless you're the green-haired half-ghoul of course, where the world is a joke and life is a game and the world really was an egg ready to be hatched, the rules merely egg shells waiting to be broken.)

He isn't stupid, he knows he can't tell his blond-haired ball of sunshine about everything, about what the offer is exactly or who his green-haired friend is, but he knows that he needs the second opinion, he needs the outsider's voice to tell him how stupid this all was before he jumped in feet first without even seeing what was at the bottom of the whole.

He does so over text, and he tries to bring it up as casually as he can, trying to lead the conversation to the subject, but he's transparent to Hide, his friend can see right through him to his mangled and stolen heart, as he already knows that there is a problem and he instantly want to help.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

(He's not sure who's stupid, or, in this case, who is the most stupid in this case. Eto for asking for this sort of help, Ken for looking for validation, or Hide for being so overly ignorant and yet insightful for everything that is going on.)

(Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.)

Ken tries to deflect it, explaining to his human friend that there wasn't a problem, no dilemma for the blond-haired person to sort out, and he must have done something right, because the texts his friend sends are now slightly colder (he ignores the hurt that he had sent to his best human friend and to himself through his secrets), but just as informative. He says to list the pros and cons, to find out what he wants and what his friend, the friend that the black-haired boy only just admitted to having, wants and to see if there was a way that Ken could help her without going against what he wants.

Ken doesn't know what he wants (he wants to be happy); he doesn't know why he should be hesitating, but he still does (fighting doesn't sound like it will make him happy).

(But it would make her happy and that is really what he wants, right?)

His blond-haired friend also said that he should talk to his other friend, but when he goes to the park the next day, book in hand and worry etched into his face as snow continues to fall but not lay, he's greeted by emptiness.

He shouldn't feel surprise, but he does.

Even a month later, he hasn't spoken to her.

Even a month later, he's still conflicted.

He has rights to be, or, at least he thinks that he has rights to be conflicted over what options he had. Because, he loves the green-haired girl that he had known almost his whole life, he loves her and wants to help her in any way possible, but now she was asking for it, requesting something that he was always sure that he was able to give with no hesitation, he finds himself doing the same thing that he thought he wouldn't be.

He doesn't understand it much, why he was so hesitant.

Maybe if he was older, he'd know why he was so cautious. Maybe if he was wiser, he'd consider his options, all the ones available and not just the ones he could see.

But, no. He was young. He was inexperienced. He was foolish.

Maybe later in life, when he lost one of those qualities, when he grew older, experienced, wiser, he'd know what his mistake was, he'd know what when wrong and when. But, as he looked down at the message that she had left him a month ago when the snow started to fall, and winter truly started, he can only run his fingers over the words and smile.

(The fool was the first card of the deck, but it was also the last. Everything starts with the fool, but it also ends with the fool.)

She's asking for his help. Why would he not give something as simple as that to her?

(This is the start, and he is the fool.)

When he goes to the park again, book in hand, scarf around neck and a smile on his face while his feet made crunches in the snow that had started to lay but not enough for it to really be anything of importance, he's greeted by emptiness.

Emptiness and a note, with a date, a time, and a meeting point.

He goes home, and he find out that Sen Takatsuki is holding her first book signing event, in celebration of her first book becoming a bestseller and, unsurprisingly, it matches up perfectly with the date, time and the meeting point that was written on the note in his hand.

Interesting.

It doesn't surprise him to find that the normally quiet bookstore, the one furthest from Anteiku, was packed.

Well, packed is relative isn't it? As there aren't actually many people there, about twenty people, a mix from the ages of about fourteen to thirty-five, all with their books in their hands and questions in their minds. It doesn't matter though, everyone is happy and warm and very, very excited.

He stands at the back, and reads the book that was given to him in the park as everyone else sits and watches with smiles on their faces, hands in the air and questions on their tongue. He doesn't blame them, for as short as the stories are, they raise lots of questions and there are so many open endings for them that having some writer's insight is wanted, to know what she thought of the endings, so the reader has something to compare to. The black-haired teen doesn't go to stand as everyone else does, as they go and line up in front of the table, waiting for their books to be signed by a writer that they now admire, and before long, the crowd of goes down to a crowd of four, himself, the green haired girl, her editor, and the bookstore owner.

It's at this point that he approaches her, silently and nervously, he hasn't seen her in a while, but he knows that she's looking well. Her hair, while still messy, is at least not bloodstained and pulled back from her face for once, and the glasses that cover her eyes are distracting, pulling the attention away from how one eye looks slightly different from the other, not that people who didn't know would notice either way. Gone was her red dress (though he doubted that she had gotten rid of it, she was very sentimental when she wanted to be) and instead in the cleanest outfit that he had ever seen her in, an oversized yellow jumper and a pair of green dungarees, the front pocket littered with pens and badges. He doesn't get too close to her before the editor approaches him, with a frown on his face.

"I'm sorry, but the signing is over now. I'm afraid that you'll have to wait until-" he starts, but is interrupted by the green haired teen.

"Don't worry, this is Ken, a friend of mine that I was talking about," she says, ignoring the look of fear that grows on his face and the sudden silence that he falls into, "I will be going now, thanks for organising this event, see you soon!" she grabs his wrist and quickly drags him out of the small bookshop, and he follows without argument. While he has not seen her in a while, almost too long, he could say that he never missed this side of her, the rude, forceful side that had no patience for human etiquettes.

"We have much to talk about Ken, so many plans to make, but lucky for us, we have all the time in the world now," and then she looks back at him, still going forward towards her destination and she smiles slightly, and he can feel the blood rush to his cheeks, but he puts the full blame of that on the snow that land on his face instead, but it doesn't stop him from looking away form her, staring down at the ground and watch the footsteps that he creates in the thin layer of snow. He hears her giggle, but they've stopped walking now, so he doesn't have the time to ponder at the strange exchange.

(He'll ponder about it, have it flip over in his head a thousand times, when he gets home with the new information in his head and a quick thought of 'what if?'.)

He looks up from the ground to look at the small café, before he is again dragged by the wrist, and he couldn't help but sigh as he walks into the wall of welcoming heat. He follows his friend to a small table, and he orders a simple hot chocolate while the green haired teen orders her black coffee as well as an apple, which she plays with while they wait for their drinks to cool slight.

"So," she starts, looking up from the apple which she continues to roll around the table, making sure that it never falls off, "Everything starts with an organisation called V…"

A.N. So here's an update, and I managed to find my original notes for this story, and then I realised that I haven't really followed any of them, so somethings have to be rearranged. Yikes.

Never the less, I like this chapter, I think. The next chapter will be the last one for this arc, and then we'll start with canon events, or a least start the canon timeline, or a bit before then. Who knows? Not me, mainly because I have no idea where this fic is going o_0.

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