There’s a small forest to the north of the Conservatory. It’s only an hour walk away. During the long summer days, we used to go there everyday. And if it got late and we didn’t feel like walking back, we’d just sleep there in the wilderness. We did it so often that we just decided to dump our camping equipment there at the start of the season. But last summer was when Ciel left, and we haven’t gone back ever since then. Our things are still out there.

The afternoon sunlight flickers as it shines through the swaying trees. A soft wind blows. Teri and I step over dry soil in a serene calmness. The melody of the world resonates, but we are the dissonance that should not belong. Breaking the harmony, I think that is all I’ve ever known how to do.

We find our things scattered all over the ground. When we left it here a year ago, we tied everything up and suspended it from the trees. It’s what we always did before we left. But I guess I never should have expected it to hold up for an entire year.

Teri rummages through one of the piles and pulls out two camping chairs. She props both of them up for us to have a seat. Her chair squeaks as she leans back to stretch. Suddenly, its legs snap like a twig, and Teri falls to the ground. I fold my chair back up and join her on the floor.

“What should we do about it?” She asks, looking at the mound of junk. “We can’t just leave it here.”

“We should have brought some bags.” I say. “or one really big bag.”

“We could burn it.” Teri says, in a disheartened tone.

“You’re joking, right?”

“Probably.” She says.

“I think I’m going to just pretend like you were either way.”

We sit in silence for a while, my legs still tired from walking, and my mind still tired from thinking. I end the quietness as a cloud pulls over the light.

“We could try burying it.” I suggest.

“Don’t you think that would be a bit irresponsible?” Teri asks in return.

“You were the one who said we should burn it.”

“I was just kidding.” She says. “That’s not irresponsible at all.”

The sunlight dims further, until the sky turns grey enough to match Teri’s monochrome tone. I feel something drop on my head. Then another.

“Oh you have got to be kidding me.” I exclaim.

“I was. I thought that much was obvious.”

“No, I mean, it’s raining. Please tell me you didn’t see this coming.”

Teri scratches the back of her neck.

The shower picks up quickly, and we scramble to find a tarp. It takes both of us to pull one out from the bottom of the heap. When it finally breaks loose, the two of us are already drenched from head to toe. Nonetheless, we throw the dirty tarp over ourselves; crouching as the mud slowly trickles down my spine.

“I suppose we have gone through worse before.” I say.

The raindrops relentlessly bounce off our pointless shelter. Thousands of them, each making their own noise, but it sounds like only one.

I reach my hand out into the downpour. A shallow puddle forms in my palm. It ripples with no end; my fingers numb to its chill.

“Hey Teri, how long is this storm going to last?” I ask.

She sniffles quietly.

“I’m not sure.”

She sniffles again, slightly louder. I look over to see Teri’s eyes red, and her face covered in what, at first, I thought was just the rain.

“Are you crying?” I ask, in utter astonishment.

“No.” She shyly rebuffs.

“You obviously are, you can’t really hide it.”

Teri turns away and wipes her rain covered arm against her tear covered face.

“What’s wrong?” I ask. “I’ve never seen you cry before.”

“It’s nothing.” She replies.

“Teri doesn’t cry though. You don’t have to keep everything to yourself if you don’t want to.”

“That’s not my name you know.”

“Oh sorry, Theresa.”

“That’s not what I meant.” She says.

Teri turns, the back of her head now facing me. She stares into the stagnant rain.

“Theresa is the name they gave me, not the one I was born with.”

My frozen body freezes one again.

“I’m not like you or Lio. Or Ciel. I wasn’t born alone. I had my mom and dad to look after me.”

She takes a breath to collect her thoughts.

“One day, dad took me for a walk, and when we got to the bridge, he told me to stand still and wait for him to come back. I knew he wouldn’t though. But I waited. Like the good little girl that he raised me to be. And when they came, I refused to speak to them. I didn’t tell them my name, so they decided to call me Theresa.”

Teri looks upwards into the endless gray, before shutting her eyes and letting the water roll off her eyelids. I cannot tell what kind of water it is.

“You know what I’m trying to tell you right?” She asks, with a hint of nervousness. But there is only one question on my mind.

“Why did they leave?” I ask. As soon as the words leave my mouth, though, I wish I did not.

Teri presses her lips together. Her eyebrows lower.

“You still don’t know?” She asks, gently, but uneasily. I don’t know whether she is looking for an answer.

“There isn’t any time left, you have to know.” She speaks faster, frustrated. The disturbing feeling of expectancy lurks closer now.

“I’m sure they didn’t leave you on purpose. They still love you, I know they do. It’s nothing to cry over-”

“I’m not crying for them. I’m crying for you. Why don’t you understand that?”

An outburst. The anticipation is gone, but the unease still lingers. My thoughts are but one colour. What colour is it, though? I cannot tell.

The familiar low breeze howls around me. It blows the rain into my face. I choose not to feel it. It never bothered me before, but right now, I just wish it would shut up and go die in a hole. Preferably the one we dug the other day. But it doesn’t, so as to spite my stupidity.

Hours pass, but the rain shows no signs of dying down. Teri is lost in the sky. Her only movement is her blink, which hide her dead eyes for only so long. I can’t figure out what she is thinking. But then, I never could. Only now, I realize it’s because I never cared. We were supposed to be together unconditionally. And as long as she was there - as long as Teri was there - it didn’t matter to me what she thought; I was content just to have her around.

I’m so selfish. Maybe that’s why Ciel left.

Teri feels so far now. How long have I ignored the distance?

My stomach growls, and I try to hide it. I hope she cannot hear it under that rain.

“There’s a muffin in my backpack.” She says.

“I’m not hungry.” I lie.

Teri sighs. I look at the ground away from her. The zipper on her bag opens, then she sticks her muffin in my face.

“It’s wet, so it probably doesn’t taste too good. Eat it quickly and then we’ll leave.”

Every muscle in my body, and every drop of my willpower, tells me not to take it. But I do. It tastes salty.

I curl up into a ball, nibbling in the darkness.

“Hey Klaus,” Teri says. “If the day comes when we can no longer be together, I want you to remember me by my real name.”

I refuse to move from my shell, but the muffin suddenly doesn’t taste so bad.

“And what would that be?” I ask.

----------------------------------

We return to the Conservatory well past nightfall. The rain has only just begun to let up. I don’t like it when it stops raining. It makes me feel like the weather won’t let me be happy or sad, only somewhere in between.

There is only one washroom in our room, so Teri heads down to one of the guest rooms to shower, while I use ours.

Lio sleeps peacefully, and I try not to wake her. I slowly open my desk drawer, and silently lift out the first two books inside. I place them on the desk. The third book under them I take to my bed. Its pages slide open, as I flip to the middle. Through the parting clouds, the dim moonlight shines through the window, illuminating my book, and the treasure it hides within.

Suddenly there is a light knock on the door. I expect it, but it still makes me jump.

Immediately, but carefully, I shut the cover and slip the book under my pillow. Then I lie on my side, pretending to be asleep. I wait for Teri to come in. But she doesn’t. Instead, there is another knock.

I sit up and spin my feet above the floor. The moonlight draws a line on the ground. I stand into its glow, and enter the shadows, not making a whisper. Next to the door, the clock ticks, seemingly slower than it should. My hand is on the doorknob; I feel the third knock before I hear it. The handle spins, I barely crack the door open and look out the slit.

A dark silhouette stands on the opposite side. The hallway is black, but I can still see. Staring down at me is a pair of piercing eyes.

I quickly shut the door. My head feels light. I place a hand against the wall and take a deep breath. Having collected myself, I open the door once more, all the way this time.

“Hello Sebastian. What are you doing here so late? Are you looking for Theresa again?” I sound like I’m reading off a script.

“No, I actually had a few things I wanted to ask you.”

A lump rolls down my throat.

“Oh. What is it?” I ask.

“It’s quite a lot actually. Why don’t we walk and talk?”

“Of course.”

The door shuts behind me as I cross into the hall. Sebastian steps forward and I follow closely behind, using only his presence to guide me through the darkness. We reach the hazy light of the main stairwell before he speaks.

“So,” he says. “how do you like the Conservatory?”

The question strikes me as a strange one.

“What do you mean?” I ask. “The Conservatory is my home. This place is a part of me, it’s where my family is.”

Sebastian places a hand on his side above his belt. He looks down at stairs beneath our feet and exhales.

“You’re a good kid, Klaus. I want you to know that.”

Again, I am rather confused.

“Why do you say that?” I ask. He does not answer my question, instead asking one in return.

“Do you know why you were selected for the program?”

I think it through, but I come to no conclusion.

“Out of all the children at the orphanage, it was you. Do you know why?” He asks, redundantly.

“I have no idea.”

Sebastian smiles.

“It was because Cecile refused to come if you were left behind.” Again, he puts his hand over the same place above his belt.

“My peers told me it was a bad idea to let you into the program. You and Theresa both, actually. But I did anyways, and it was the right decision in the end.”

“I don’t really understand.” I say. I it feels like I’m just talking to myself.

“Let me ask you something, Klaus,” Sebastian says. “You were excluded by everyone back at the orphanage. You had every reason to end up hating the world. But you didn’t. Why is that?”

It’s another odd question, but I think about it for a while. I think about it for so long, we walk all the way down the stairs and across the lobby. Only when we reach the front door do I speak.

“I think - I think the other kids, they weren’t ignoring me on purpose. I mean, I don’t think any of them were bad people.”

Sebastian pushes the glass door open with one hand. His other placed above his belt. I wonder why I did not find this strange up until now.

We step outside into the frigid air. The clouds have slightly dissipated and the stars shine through. I get my first good look into Sebastian’s eyes. They do not say what I expect.

“It’s not entirely true, is it? What you just said.” I say.

He nods, conceding.

“You’re too smart for your own good.”

Sebastian looks down and closes his eyes. The moonlight basks over him. A familiar low breeze passes by. I find it rather comforting. My gaze raises into the distance beyond the pitch-black horizon; where the mountains meet the stars. Where the answers lie.

Suddenly, there’s a loud wailing from inside the building. The fire alarm has been let loose. I turn around to see a bright glare from one of the bottom floor windows. There’s a faint smell of smoke.

“What’s happening?”

I look to Sebastian for an explanation. But the look on his face, it’s too calm.

“I’m sorry Klaus. I’d have to do this eventually.”

There is no delay between his words and his actions. He flips up his shirt, the place where he had placed his hand. A beam of the nocturne’s skylight reflects from the palm sized piece of metal holstered under Sebastian’s belt. It shines beautifully, like nothing I’ve ever seen before. With the sparkle still lingering in my eyes, Sebastian takes the light from its place. With lustre in his hand, he raises his arm and points it directly at me.

A large breeze blows by, but I feel it in only one ear. My eyes shut as it passes. All I see is red. My ear rings maniacally.

I open my eyes.

Teri pulls on Sebastian’s arm, bringing him towards the ground. She grabs on to the light with both hands.

Sebastian shakes her off without much effort. As she falls, a piece of metal breaks off and ricochets off the stone floor. He raises the light towards me again.

Suddenly, though, Teri kicks him between the legs, and he falls to his knees. She pounces on top of him. They both try to get hold of the light. Then, a loud noise.

The glass wall shatters, and the ringing in my ear becomes deafening.

A second blast follows. Blood begins to flow.

Sebastian goes limp on Teri’s shoulders. She stands, and he falls forward.

“Klaus, we have to go now.” She says, with a tremor. I try my best to move, but I cannot. All I see is her right arm. Limp, and blood pouring out of the severed end.

Teri takes me by the hand, through the blood, and through the fractured wall. The other children frantically scramble outside. The adults, towards the flames. There’s a flickering yellow glow on the back wall.

We hurry down the lobby, but an explosion down the left wing knocks me to my feet. I take Teri’s trembling arm once more.

The sprinklers turn on as we enter the stairwell leading to the basement. My legs can barely keep up as Teri spirals down the steps.

A train lies waiting on the second track.

As soon as we reach ground level, blasts resonate at our feet. Like metal ricocheting off the stone floor.

Teri drags me past six carriages, then we arrive at the first one. She lets go of my hand and pulls on the door handle, shaking it furiously. When it doesn’t open, she steps back and points the light at it instead.

It cracks once. Then once again.

Upon entering the train, Teri strides towards the control station. I crumble under my own weight as soon as she lets go of my hand. It doesn’t take long before we start moving.

The train wails through the tunnel ahead. The lights overhead pass by in quick succession. Teri stands and places the light at my feet, then she continues towards the back of the carriage.

“I’m going to disconnect us from the rest of the train. Don’t move from here.” She says.

I look down at the piece of metal in front of me. The light; this was what shattered walls, what destroyed my ears, and what took a life.

My gaze shifts to the back of the train. I have trouble looking straight. The back-door closes, and I see Teri’s head lower below the window.

The cart behind ours keeps pace at first. But then, it starts to drift away, just a bit.

As Teri rises, I feel our train accelerating.

The doorknob turns. But the glass fractures, the cracks drawing circles around the center.

It is stained red.

Like blood.

Like my hands.

Like Teri.