A.N: I do not own Pandora Hearts.

Currently looking for a beta reader.

The problem with telling a story is; how do you do it? This was something he realized as soon as he tried to write down his thoughts. There were a million things he wanted to say, yet he simply did not know how to start. It's easy, once you get the hang of it. Once the story has already begun, because then you know what else is coming.

While writing about the beginning is far more complex,

To be honest, I- he didn't even know why he was doing this. Gilbert knew that people did not call him weird for no reason, he knew just as much as them that those dreams he liked to believe were memories from another life, were just something his brain had made up.

There were no other worlds, no other life times linked to his and soulmates and angels, or whatever his mother had believed in did not exist. When he thought about it like that, all he had to do was close his journal and pretend that everything he had written in them was just gibberish. There was absolutely no way that someone could even make a story out of this… this… and yet-

But there is, there is one person who would understand.

This person was after all the whole reason why he even started to keep a journal. As soon as he could write, he had started to keep a journal. Because there were so many things he wanted to talk about once he got to meet that person, and how could he ever ask the many questions he had been walking around for as long as he could remember, without knowing where to start?

Sure, he had enough journals piled up in his closet to tell this person his whole life story, but not everything needed to be told. As much as he wanted that person to catch up on all the stuff he missed, he didn't need to know everything- ah!

Here he went again, writing about stuff no one understood but him. That person did not exist after all.

"Big brother, I overheard the Regnard woman say you're insane." He remembered his younger brother had once told him this.

"Son, I think it's about time you'll get your head out of the clouds. You're a senior for Christ's sake. Focus on school instead of this person that doesn't exist." His father had scolded him on his first day of school.

And then there was his mom, he didn't even know why, of all things she had told him, this was the thing that came up to him, "I do not believe in god… but I do believe in-" Angels. What that quote had to do with what he wanted to write down made absolutely no sense at all. Nothing made sense!

He wanted to scratch down the first sentences of that page and start over again but stopped himself. His mother believed in soulmates and angels. And before she died because of the cancer inside her lungs, she had always told him to find this person her son always spoke of.

"I do not believe in god, Gilbert. But I do believe in angels. I believe there's a little piece of angel in every one of us… and when I listen to you talking about this person you always dream of, I'm almost certain that they're much more angel then anybody else."

How do you recognize an angel, you may ask? "Well, first of all: they are loyal, they are also selfless, but also strong, kind, pure and innocent." Then again, his mother's whole world revolved around pretty words. She was a writer, a poet, and an artist. He was more then certain that she had wanted to end her life the same way she ended her stories; with pretty words and a smile.

Perhaps he should just write everything down the way his mother would do it; his words would not be meant for the eyes of one person, but for those of many others. Instead of filling his journals with letters to a person he had made up in his head, he should explain who he was to everyone willing to listen.

It certainly made writing a lot easier.

So here it goes.

Hello, my name is Gilbert-… it sounded lame, he knew that. The raven was about to start over but then decided to let it stay. He could look for an opening sentence later. He just needed to write this down before father would come upstairs and see the light was still on in his room. Even though tomorrow was another school day.

For as long as I lived, I… believed that there is more then the eye can tell. I believe that there are other world as well, some of them not that different as ours, others completely different. Why do I believe this? Well, in my school's library there is this whole section of books without an author. No one knows who wrote those stories, but they're everywhere. Spread around the whole world.

Some say; you can't get rid of those books. No, it's true! People tried throwing them away, only to find them back in front of their doorstep. Those books choose where they want to stay; some people who've read them even say they recognize the stories. As if they truly happened.

There are worlds linked to ours, they're not quite worlds actually, they are stories. And every time you die in one story, you get born again in another.

I know I'm not making much sense; even I have trouble believing it. But this is what I believe in, because you see… while Gilbert hasn't found what story he was part of; he does remember the person who always remained by his side in that story, in another world.

At least, that's what I like to believe.

He knew that no matter what happened they would always find each other, were it ten years… or even hundred. I'm used to waiting. Besides, that person said so them self, "Then this is not goodbye, see you, Gilbert."

But we got separated, even though I waited and waited and we reunited once again… something went wrong, and I… I need to find them.

His family knew of this person he always dreamt of, they knew what he believed in. While his younger brother fully supported him, he did not believe him. His parents had let him believe in his fantasy, this of course changed when his mother got ill.

His mother was a writer who, no matter what, always knew how to turn the world into a much prettier place then it originally was. They had lived on clouds thanks to her; she had been the one that made their life a living fantasy. So that when she passed away, they crashed straight into a wall called reality.

Causing Gilbert to grow up faster then any other child his age should, suddenly he had to take care of his younger brother. His father could not bear to live with this reality. He tried to recreate the fantasy his wife had written down for them by drinking the reality away. With every gulp of alcohol he took, the world became less sharp. Everything turned beautiful once again…

This of course didn't last too long, Gilbert told himself. After only a year, the man got out of it. Once he overheard his eldest son scolding his younger sibling for staying up too late once again and not paying attention to his grades.

He had scolded his brother like a parent should.

Both siblings still had the image burned in their mind; the way their father had collapsed on his knees in front of them and begged for their forgiveness. He promised to be a better father and to never abandon them ever again.

He has since then, kept his promise. And not once, has he touched alcohol again. His father also did not allow fantasy to ever enter their house again. From now on, nothing would get his feet off the ground.

Which meant of course, "No more talking about this person from another story. It is time you grow up and focus on your grades."

There was one person who believed in his theory, though. His childhood friend Kevin had listened to his story. Of course the last time he talked to Kevin was years ago, when they were still kids.

"Sometimes, I feel like I don't belong here either… as if, those people were not meant to be my family." Kevin had told him,

"That's why they beat him up!" Vincent had shouted when he had overheard his brother mentioning this to their mother.

"Vincent, don't be so rude!"

Gilbert had been too young to realize that the bruises on his friend's pale skin had been from psychical abuse, that the reason why he always looked so tired wasn't because he had bad health. It was because he didn't get treated right by his parents.

Too young too realize that they didn't move out because mister Regnard found a better job, but because the police burst into their house and caught them red-handed abusing their child while drunk and god knows what else.

The thing is though… He always had the feeling that he and Kevin had been friends in another universe as well. But only, Kevin was different. He wasn't this timid and moody little guy that broke down every time you asked if he was alright, he was this strong cocky guy that always walked around with pride and knew how to get under everyone's skin.

One of the reasons why I can't help but believe that am not making this is up is because he met him again. When he changed schools, Vincent had gotten in too much trouble in their other one and because of this, no teacher took the two siblings serious anymore. They needed to start over once again in this school.

And thus, this time, he and Kevin reunited on the first day of school.

Kevin had changed, not just in appearance but also his name. He no longer went by the name Kevin Regnard but instead called himself Xerxes Break.

Perhaps I'm rushing into things. There were just too many things he wanted to write about. So many things needed to be said…

He wanted to talk about talking with Break for the first time, how happy he was to see Break had been accepted into someone else's family. He was now an older brother, his younger sister just turned seventeen who had just become a junior.

"It means I'm almost done with school! Isn't that exciting?"

I don't know why… but the more people he met, the more this feeling of excitement started to grow inside of him. He felt like a child on the night before going to an amusement park. Because sometimes he- I knew it wouldn't take long anymore before he met that person. Even though he told himself that this person did not exist. The feeling of nostalgia he had whenever he hung out with Break, Sharon and Reim meant nothing at all and there was no way that the twins Vincent likes to hang out with are familiar.

Perhaps I should explain myself, Reim, as you might wonder; is an old childhood friend of Sharon. It is rumored that he has been crushing on her for as long as anyone could remember. But as soon as Break entered their lives, it seemed as if suddenly all the girl's attention had gone to her older brother and no one else. She knew his previous life wasn't something to brag about, even though no one told her anything about it. She could only guess. Sharon had made the silent promise to herself that no matter what happened, Break should always remain happy.

So it wasn't odd to see Reim and Gilbert talking alone in the hallway without the siblings around. Sharon probably accompanied her brother to a quiet place where he could nap and so that she could wake him up in time.

Then there were the twins, Echo and Zwei. I have this feeling that this person always knows who everyone is, and yet… things are different then our different lives, so he needed to catch up on everything he had missed, right?

If you are even real.

He looked at his last sentence, only for him to write it again, this time the way his father wanted; if that person is even real. For this was not a letter to that person… Right!

With that in mind, he continued his writing, even though he wanted nothing more then to believe that person existed, he still kept telling himself that he was a childhood illusion he needed to get rid off.

Until that feeling of excitement had reached its peak. He couldn't sit still for two seconds, the whole day he felt like at some point, someone would jump out of a closet and shout 'surprise'. Perhaps wish him a happy unbirthday? It sure sounded lovely.

Yet, as the day went by like any other regular day, that feeling changed into something dark and heavy. Disappointment had found itself a way inside his stomach, slowly curling around in its nest to make itself comfortable.

Perhaps in another life, this was the day we met. He had allowed himself to think like this.

Break had been the first to notice his sudden mood swing, he had joked about it and asked if perhaps his high school crush had just rejected him.

"Break, you shouldn't tease Gilbert like that!" Sharon had scolded him, those words had not even left her mouth before she turned her gaze back on him and asked if it was true. "Oh do tell me you found someone special?" always the romantic. He found himself thinking, never change, Sharon. No matter what life, the Rainsworth girl would always remain true to herself.

And that's when Reim brought up the school newspaper, "Have you perhaps found a picture of you in it that wasn't all that pretty? Don't worry in that case," he nodded towards their albino friend who had been sucking on a lollypop coming out of his many mystery pockets. "Break doesn't even have a nice side for on the camera."

"How meaaan." Break whined from his seat on the stairs, their school was old and large. Many classrooms didn't even get used, the stairs they had been sitting on at that time led towards the forbidden 3rd floor, so no one had any reason to use them. Which meant they could sit here as long as they'd like without getting in anyone's way.

"I'll have you know that that brat is taking those pictures on purpose." The hatter then started to defend himself while he kept pouting, honestly, if it weren't for Gilbert knowing his past, he had probably believed what everyone else thought of him. "The reason why he got held back twice is because the teachers didn't think he was mature enough." Not to mention that, even though Xerxes was probably one of the smartest guys Gil ever met, he was lazy. He never turned in his homework in time and when was the last time he even brought a book to class?

Sharon was worried he had to do his year over once again if he kept it up like this.

"I'm sure he doesn't do it on purpose. I mean, as far as I know he never took a bad picture of me." Sharon had giggled.

None of the three other males in the girl's presence dared to speak their thoughts out loud, but with just one glance to each other, they knew they shared the same thought. Even the photographer is scared of what will happen if he puts a terrible picture of Sharon Rainsworth in the school's newspaper. Sharon just laughed like the cute and innocent girl she was.

Break, even though his poor health and rather weak appearance was known for being one of the strongest students in Latodwidge academy, and even he feared this cute and petite girl as much as anyone else, if not more since he lived under the same roof as her.

Perhaps one of the reasons why Sharon was the head of the student council was because no one dared to go against her will.

"I didn't even know we had a school newspaper to be honest." The raven then sighed, he still felt terrible for no reason at all.

"Well, I guess it's not unusual for you not to know. School only started four weeks ago…" Sharon then gave him a brief summary of how their school fully supports talent of all kinds. They had many clubs for their students were they could improve said talents.

But the most important of them all was the newspaper club, because they spoke of what all the others clubs did. The school photographer "Once upon a time, there used to be a photography club, but something terrible happened and only one person remained." Takes the pictures to put in the newspaper and then students would write about them. "We're so famous that we can even sell our newspapers!" the girl had proudly added. Her family had gone for centuries to this school, her grandma was even a proud sponsor, it was no wonder she knew a lot about this place.

"That's… actually impressive." He had admitted with big eyes, "Can I take a look?"

And suddenly that feeling of excitement had returned. He felt like a five-year-old opening his Christmas presents again. His hands were trembling once Reim handed him his copy of the school's newspaper. He said something about being able to buy your own copy at the club's classroom but the raven didn't even hear what he said.

His eyes scanned over the pages, hoping to find something. Anything at all that could proof he wasn't going crazy, that years, and years of hoping had not been for naught. He needed to know.

Yet as he read every page, word by word. There was nothing that caught his eye… his shoulders slumped and for the second time that day, he felt like someone had kicked him in the guts.

"T-the… pictures are pretty." He then mumbled, at least seeing a picture of Break flinching away from Sharon in the background cheered him up a little.

"Do you like them?" Sharon had sat down next to him so that she as well could gaze at some of the black and white pictures. "Oz's pictures are always so pretty you see, I remember when he-"

"S-sorry. Wh-what did you say?" he felt as if a jolt of electricity had gone right through him, that name she just said- it had woken him up once again. Every cell in his body just screamed that's him! Oz, Oz… Oz… he loved how the name sounded inside of his head.

Reim and Break had both looked up from whatever conversation they had just been having to see why Raven had suddenly raised his voice like that, they saw the enthusiasm in his eyes and could only be confused.

"T-the name you just said…." He had heard it; he didn't even know why he needed to ask her to repeat it.

"O-Oz? Why… have you met him perhaps?" Sharon glanced at her other two friends, perhaps she hoped for them to have some answers as to why their friend suddenly acted so weird.

"Y-yeah!" he lied, "There was something I-I needed to ask… could you tell me where he is right now?"

The girl blinked in confusion, "…W-well since it's club activities now he'll be at the newspaper club… but as soon as class starts again he'll be in his dark room since… I'm not sure! I would have to ask Alice but he should be there."

As soon as he heard this information he got up, "Thanks Sharon!" he could just kiss the girl, if that wouldn't be completely out of character. So he just grabbed his stuff and ran off.

There was no way he could have explained it even to them, and even if he could, they wouldn't have understood. Their lunch break would soon be over; he didn't even care about skipping history if that meant he could meet the boy. This is it. The moment he had been waiting for his entire life. For as long as he could remember, he wanted to meet his soulmate from another story. He wanted to bring them home with him and introduce them to his parents. He wanted to proudly tell them that he found them. "This is him. The person I always dream about."

His mother would laugh and ask all sorts of question while his father would prepare some delicious meal for them. Vincent would probably glare at them from a distance; ask if Gil was sure this guy was the real deal.

"Of course he is!" he'd say.

Perhaps Vincent would accept him, perhaps he wouldn't. At some point, the raven had realized he didn't care: because he had that person by his side.

There were so many things he wanted to tell him… him. Oz.

How had he not noticed before?

Sure this school was big, he thought while running through the long corridors. He almost bumped into someone while being so lost in thoughts.

"Watch where you're going stupid seaweed head!" the brunette shouted after him.

But how was it possible that they hadn't met not once, how many times had they walked past each other in the school hallways without noticing?

He slowed down as soon as he saw the door with the nametag "Dark Room" written on it. It was nearby the newspaper club, he had walked past this classroom so many times. Not once had he stopped to see what name was written on the tag.

School photographer Oz West. "West?" it didn't sound right… no.

He felt scared all of sudden, for years he had created this image of the perfect boy inside of his head, this boy was like an angel and would have all the answers for him.

What if that person was nothing like he expected? Sure, Sharon and the others always gave off this feeling of nostalgia when he spoke to them, but that didn't mean everyone coming from that story was like that. He could still have made it all up!

He suddenly realized how irrational he acted. All this time he had been chasing a childhood illusion.

This was stupid.

"Well," a voice suddenly spoke from behind him, causing the teen to jump in surprise, as he slowly turned around he was greeted by a young boy, barely one year younger then him, "Are you going to knock on the door or what?" the blond haired beauty then asked with a mischievous smile on his face. He carried an old fashioned camera around his neck. He was dressed for the weather, the raven noticed. Wearing a beige sweater over a baby blue shirt, which had been buttoned all up, his jeans were dark blue and his boots brown.

An outfit the boy had chosen himself. It looks like something he would wear…

He realized he had been spacing out, the boy was still gazing at him with big eyes. The raven was lucky he was patient.

"A-ah! Sorry-… I-I have no actual business here. I- I just wanted…" to know who you are.

The boy, Oz just laughed and shrugged it off. He made a loose gesture as if to say he had to move aside. Of course Gilbert moved aside as fast as possible, hoping he was not being a bother.

"It's fine, y'know." The blond then said over his shoulder, out of his pockets he got a key, which he used to unlock the door. Wow, the raven had thought. You must be a real trustworthy person if you had your own personal room and key to that room. Just imagining the school actually trusted someone like that was impressive. Yet, it doesn't surprise me if this person is Oz.

The photographer opened the door, "You're not the first person who wants to watch."

"…S-sorry?"

Oz threw his old leathered school bag over one of the many unused desks, together with the jacket he had been carrying while he headed straight towards the only window that had no curtains to block the light.

"You're here to watch me bring the pictures to life, am I right?" Oz asked over his shoulder, he gave Gilbert a curious look. "Or… am I wrong?" that would be embarrassing! He must have thought.

"N-no! yeah, sorry… I-I just… thought it'd be more difficult to-to… c-con… convince you, y'see?" he offered a weak smile.

It seemed that his lie had not convinced Oz who now frowned at him, for a second Gilbert saw an emotion he could not name appear on the boy's face before he offered him a carefree grin.

"Then come on in. Close the door though, I can't have any light from outside enter the room." And with that, he closed the last curtain; darkness engulfed the room.

And all he could think about was; this is it. The moment he had been waiting for his whole life.

And that moment was shared with no one else but Oz West.

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