AN: Happy International Jazz Day! Ah, I'm so excited!

Also, this pairing needs some love. I'll admit, I wasn't a big fan of Echo at the begging of the manga but she's grown on me. Enjoy!

Crescendo - music: a gradual increase, especially in the volume or intensity of sound in a passage.

Crescendo

Music reverberates off the walls, within empty corridors and the overcrowded ballroom. Echo pretends not to hear.

Bum-bum-bada-bum-bum

She watches the nobles and upper-classmen dancing with one another, all falling in perfect step with the melody. Waltz, Echo thinks. It's a slow, steady thread where people walk back and forth and in slow circles around each other.

Bum-bada-bum-bum-bada-bum

The rhythm reverberates within her chest, through empty words and thoughtful silences, distant and soft, erratic and thunderous and Echo doesn't understand.

These aren't Zwei's feelings she's reacting to, yet there is still so much noise.

Bum-bada-bum-bada-bum

Master Vincent had not approved of the company she had spent her day off with. He was even more displeased with her for coming in later than the appointed time. He was also very, very frustrated even before she arrived.

She had been just what he had need. She always was.

And when he was done with her, she was sent away to the dark corners of her mind. Noise dragged her back there without preamble, pushed her back with more force than necessary and ran to embrace Vincent. He didn't hit her, nor did he push her away. Echo can admit that sometimes she wishes Master Vincent would treat her with as much care as he does Zwei, but she knows that could never be. She doesn't deserve those things, they were only for people who could call themselves real.

It's unfair – maybe, probably, Echo doesn't know. Master Oz says it's unfair, and he hasn't lied to her yet. It isn't Echo's place to question though, nor to complain – the only thing she can do is curl up in the back of their joint mind and wonder how it would feel to be Noise and whether she should laugh or cry at the very thought.

Bum... bum-bada... bum...

Once Noise had safely tucked herself away in the folds of her mind, Echo went back to her room to change back into her usual cloths. Before putting them on though, she searches them thoroughly, almost desperately, for the blue hair-clip Oz had given her mere hours earlier.

She breaths a small sigh of relief, surprised that she had been unconsciously holding her breath. Her fingers had brushed the cool gem of the hair-clip and she held the object with tentative hands, like one would with something of immense value. Echo wasn't sure why, but she felt as though mishandling the little blue present would make it disappear. And besides, mishandling it would mean disrespecting Master Oz, and despite him not being her real Master, she still didn't want to do that.

The innocent piece of jewelry sat in her open palms, held reverently, almost tenderly.

This little blue hair-clip was the only thing that was truly hers, after all.

bum-bum... bum... bada-bum

Laughter, like the chiming of bells, fills her ears, falling in rhythm with the drum in her chest. She's becoming increasingly familiar with the heat rising in her cheeks, dusting them with incarnadine splotches.

The Heir of Vessalius is holding her hand, all but dragging her through the field where the tea-party was being held.

Oz had stumbled upon her hiding behind a tree; or rather hiding away from the Creepy Clown Noise had come across in Sablier. Echo had never thought Zwei could be afraid of something – being scared was one of the few things Echo was and Noise wasn't... It was strange.

What was stranger though, was being pulled from one table to another and tasting cakes and sweets and other things that she'd never tried before – all the while following Master Oz wherever he led (or dragged) her, she had no right to complain after all. She knew her place.

Echo didn't know why the many people around her didn't put her on edge, like all the other nobles she'd seen parting over the years. Somehow, it was hard to focus on anything else but the tight grip on her wrist, squeezing and warm, firm but somehow still gentle.

Chatter and sound blending too many words spoken at the same time in a din of hushed excitement and content. It was nice... warm, somehow. Yes, warm. That was a good way to describe it. Warm, like the sun on her pale skin and the chime of bells and the hand holding her own.

It was just so... warm. Almost too warm, but still comfortable enough to hold despite the heat of the summer's day. Echo felt her cheeks redden.

Bum-bada-bum?

She doesn't know why she saves Miss Alice, but even though the girl is loud and rude and likes to hog Master Oz. Echo's body had acted on its own, but not because of the influence of Noise, because of instinct.

The only thing Echo can compare it to is her little blue hair-pin and the way she carries it everywhere and makes sure never to get it damaged or to lose it.

Master Oz had given it to her, and it was important.

Anything that was important to Master Oz was important to Echo, even if she didn't understand why.

bum-bum-bada-bum!

Oz Vessalius is a monster and the Baskervilles call him that for many reasons. He is Jack Vessalius, the man who brought about the Tragedy of Saberie. He is the Bloody B-Rabbit, a powerful Chain, too powerful and destructive to be wielded by an enemy as foul as Jack.

He is the child that was never born. The thing that never should have come to life. The plush bunny that never should have developed a personality.

He is all those things because he is Oz Vessalius, but Echo can never truly see him as any of them. He is simply and utterly Master Oz, not the horrid things the others say about him – not the things she calls herself.

Echo has little understanding of the workings of a human heart, but the seizing and withering of the organ in her chest are anything but pleasant – if anything, they're painful. More painful than physical blows – even from Chains, even from Master Vincent. Even Noise's taunts fell short when faced with this new invader.

It was like a pull and a push and a punch at the same time, and perhaps even a good kick in the stomach to add to it. A very strange, very stifling – choking – burning – cold – heavy sensation she couldn't compare to anything she'd ever experienced before.

She isn't quite sure why, but she knows without a doubt that the heavy chain dragging her legs down countless flights of stairs leads to Oz, the strongest of all Chains. There a quiet sense of irony hiding behind that thought, but Echo is too distracted to try and decipher it.

The dungeons of Pandora are a cold and shadowed place. They reek of blood and death even though the floors are clean and the only things on the walls are cobwebs. It's rarely used, except for interrogation and holding of accomplices of Contractors, because the kind of business Pandora immerses itself in rarely gives the luxury of taking prisoners.

The hallway is quiet, her feet making no sound as she walks atop the stone floor, but the peace seems almost unnatural – wrong, in a way.

She shivers and clutches the silly looking teddy-bear Master Oz gave her so long ago tightly. It's her second most cherished possession (not that she has many, two is where the count ends) and she wasn't too willing to part with it. She had to, though.

To bribe a person, one had to have something to bribe with – and the limited edition teddy-bear was surely too precious to pass up.

Lottie seem to see it's worth too, because soon she left her alone – even taking the other sentries with her. She knew that bear was precious.

When Lottie is out of the room and Echo can finally turn her full attention on the distracting presence caged between iron bars on all sides. She sees him and the surprise in his eyes and wants to tell him that the forlorn expression he's wearing really doesn't suit him and... Echo suddenly realizes she doesn't understand what she's doing. She doesn't understand why her own heartbeat is painful or what she had been planning to do by coming down here. She doesn't know what to say – well, that's not true. She had planned to tell him a funny story she'd written down in her diary. Funny things made people laugh, and Oz was supposed to be happy even though there was nothing to be happy about – but Echo still wanted him to smile.

Echo pulls out her diary and turns to the page she knows a funny story is written, because funny things make people laugh and she knows Oz likes jokes because... because, she assumed so but somehow knows it's right.

There's no ending line.

Her little plan comes crashing down because there's no punch line and no matter how hard she stares at the pages they won't produce the end that supposed to be funny and stamped with a "happily ever after".

Then Master Oz is speaking –

"Echo-chan, I finally remembered... who I am."

– saying awful, –

"This body belongs to Jack Vessalius."

– horrid –

"The truth is that... I'm a Chain."

– things –

"I'm nothing but... a plush rabbit."

– Echo doesn't want to hear. They aren't true! Why can't Oz realize that?

"I'm just... a fake."

But those horrible things are true, aren't they? They're true even though they can't be.

But Oz's a fake, isn't he? Just like her. A copy of Jack Vessalius and a copy of Zwei, an Echo of Noise. A human reincarnation of B-Rabbit and Doldum. They aren't really that different, and all the things Oz is saying are thoughts Echo had already thoughts herself – but now they burn like acid and hurt her ears and pull at her like a hundred strings all tugging at odd angles and different directions.

"Stop saying such horrible things!" She doesn't want to hear those words, even if they echo in her own heart. Oz is different from Jack and B-Rabbit and is kind and real and gentle like the warm caresses of the sun. He isn't mean or murderous or sadistic and he certainly isn't nothing. And then she's hugging him even though she doesn't understand and even though this is the way her Master wants it to be it isn't the way it's supposed to be and she doesn't understand.

But she doesn't want to hear those horrid things anymore.

And Oz is smiling sadly at her, while her face is pressed against the bars of his cell and she's breathing hard and trembling and trying to summon words that just won't come except for a breathless question – "Why are you saying such horrible things? Why are you... of all people... saying something... like that?" – she barely manages to push over her teeth.

For the first time in her life, Echo wishes she could switch places with someone. Wishes that she was the one behind bars and that Oz was free and not miserable as she always is because it doesn't make sense someone so vivid and happy could wear such a sad expression.

She doesn't say any of this, because she doesn't know how.

At the end of it, Echo still manages to make Master Oz laugh, even though he's probably thinking of other people when he tells her his Uncle used to tell that joke and that Master Gilbert would have no doubt memorized it. But Echo was glad that Oz was smiling, if a bit sadly and with too much longing and more horrid words to belittle and curse his existence at the tip of his tongue.

Echo really was useless.

Bum-bum-bum! Bum-bum-bum!

Stop Oz Vessalius from escaping.That was Master Vincent's order, and Echo doesn't know why she feels so conflicted as she goes to execute his plan. She doesn't know why Noise had left her in control, but it isn't her place to ask. She dreads asking.

She dreads what's about to happen as well, but there's nothing she can do about it. It isn't her place to question her orders, only to fulfill them.

Bum-bada-bum... bum-bum

Not an hour later, Oscar Vessalius is dead. It wasn't her mission, but it seems to ease her Masters ire slightly. It does nothing to quell the unpleasant burn in her rib-cage, one she associates with doing something wrong and fully expecting to be punished for it.

Oz Vessalius had escaped. But for some reason, she feels relief instead of displeasure at her own failure – it doesn't feel like a failure, it has a bitter taste of satisfaction she isn't quite familiar with, like she's done the right thing by failing.

Echo still feels as though she's failed in a greater, even more important way.

"The expression on Oz Vessalius's face was priceless! You never dreamed of doing something like that!"

But if Echo had ever dreamt such a dream, it had surely been a nightmare. The conflict and loss in her soul confuses her and leaves her feeling numb in a way she isn't normally. She crawls into a corner to mull over all these jumbled things she's suddenly found her plate full of, but there's a part of her that simply wants to ignore the whole fiasco – even though she knows she can't.

It's a strange feeling, and Noise doesn't keep silent about it.

Bum-bum-bum!

"So you like the Vessalius brat, huh?"gleeful laughter, sounding as though it belonged in a nightmare and so, so different from the benevolent chime of bells she wishes was there instead.

"Oh, come on Echo~! Girls are supposed to share this kind of thing!"the voice drawls childishly, raising the hairs on the back of Echo's neck. She doesn't answer. Doesn't know what to say. Should she say anything?

A hand hits her from behind:

"Answer when I talk to you!" the voice demands, harsh and biting and sounding as if it wanted to assault her with just the sheer volume of it.

Then it changed abruptly, both the tone and the atmosphere haunting her mind, for some reason, that scared Echo even more.

"Oh, what's this?" Noise asked curiously, like a child that had spotted a particularly interesting toy laying about.

But it wasn't a toy, per say – it was much, much worse.

It was her hair-clip! She hadn't even noticed it had fallen out of her pocket.

"This is from him, isn't it Echo?" Noise asked in a hushed voice, but the malicious grin spoke in volumes her tone had not.

Echo shivered. She was shaking her head, though she wasn't sure why she was doing it – it was true, after all. Noise already seemed to know the answer anyway.

Her alter ego just grinned wider, laughing at some inner joke Echo would surely be the pun of.

There was unsettling giggle.

Giggle, giggle. How funny, stupid, lonely Echo. Snicker. I better teach her a lesson. Yes, she needs to be taught a lesson.

Giggle, giggle. Chortle, chortle. Snicker, snicker.

Laugh. Laughter. Nothing like the serene chime of a bell or the perky chirps of a bird. Laughter, dark, manic laughter she called her own.

"Well, someone like you certainly doesn't deserve something as pretty as this."

The hairpiece drops to the floor with a resonating clink, soft and deafening at the same time and a smudge of blue in a sea of dark red. Echo's eyes widened and she can feel Noise's glee flooding over her own helpless despair.

A boot stomped on the red carpet. There was a crack, a sound of something fragile shattering and then Noise was gone and Echo was left alone again. Sinking to her knees, her hands reached out as if on their own accord, pickling up broken shards of blue with trembling fingers.

Echo is used to feeling hopeless, if she happens to feel anything at all – but this is a different kind of hopeless – it's the kind she can only associate with something very, very, terribly important being ripped from her.

She clutches the jagged pieces of the blue gem and now twisted silver until her palms are cut and bleeding. She doesn't let go even when a small trickle of blood flows down her wrist, just brings her hand to her chest, closer to her.

Better to stain her uniform then Master Vincent's carpet.

bum-bada-bum-bum-bum-bum-bum-bum-bada-bum-bada-boom!

Ada Vessulius has her brother's eyes – warm, kind green that simply invites you to bask in their warmth. She's a pretty girl. More than pretty though, beautiful. She's certainly prettier than all the noblewomen Echo avoids at Master Vincent's parties, the ones her Master whispers empty promises to and then leaves Echo to change the bed-sheets.

Ada Vessulius is incredibly naïve for a noblewoman, slightly air-headed and unbelievably gentle – a kindness she shares with her precious brother. She also doesn't have a mask to hide behind and the fear is crystal clear in her wide eyes that brim with tears just waiting to fall.

Echo wonders if she should be crying too.

The thing that strikes Echo the most however, is the eyes that remind her too much of her own too-loud heartbeat.

She does not wish to see those eyes close.

Echo doesn't want them to look at her with that same kind, understanding expression, like he knows without being told. She doesn't want to see the disappointment in those green depths.

She knows it must be there, it always is. And Echo doesn't deserve to feel the terrible ache that had dug a hole in her breast. She doesn't deserve the warmth that had once occupied her chest either.

And then he's there, staying Noise's hand with a firm arm and an uncharacteristic command in his voice:

"Zwei, enough already." And she thinks he's talking to her as well, even though Noise is in the front line of the fierce glare in his green eyes.

He hates her. Echo knows that he does. He has to. But she doesn't want Oz to hate her. She isn't sure why, but the thought of Oz hating her makes something prickle and hurt in her chest. It's a strange, unpleasant sensation – especially since all thoughts of Master Oz bring warpath and something incredibly light, like the touch of feathers.

He surely hates her now like Echo has hated herself for a long time. But now she hates herself even more because he must hate her too.

"No! No! I don't want to be here. No... Noise, please... let's get away."

The buildings race past her in a blur. Her heartstrings tug, like strings that wish to pull her further away but drag her back to Oz at the same time. It feels like she's a rag-doll being torn.

She can't stop running, she won't. Because Oz hates her and she can't turn back.

Oz... hates me...

"I won't."

... and ...

"I won't say that to Echo-chan."

...it hurts.

"Echo-chan is not like you!"

Review... please?