Lamplight
A Story Within a Story

Nights spent at Varia Headquarters could be peaceful. No lights except that of the moon, no sounds except the wind, and these nights were considered to be the only time most residents could really relax and act like a family. Even security breaches were dealt with silently, the assassins that never slept always on watchful guard.

But nights at Varia Headquarters could also be lonely, and a certain prince realized this when he decided he was tired of staring at the ceiling of his commodious room and wanted a change of pace. Insomnia was merely one of the few afflictions that disturbed (or rather, prevented) the slumber of many assassins. And maybe when their eyes finally did close, their thoughts were plagued with nightmares.

Bare feet crept noiselessly down the mansion's carpeted hallways that the prince was so thankful for, because had the floors been solid like the marble in the other rooms, the slightest interruption would echo without end throughout the space and the size of the area. Not even the sound of a ticking clock broke the dead silence, for their boss, who was never quite comfortable with the concept of time, had most of them removed.

But sound was one thing. All of Bel's other finely sharpened senses were as distressed by the distance from his soft bed as his hearing was. Despite the comfort the merlot carpet attempted to provide with its warm hues, the draft that seemed to come from nowhere blew through Bel's bare legs that were still warmed by his bed's presence. He could smell the other occupant's rooms when he passed by their doors and taste the dryness of the air in the old building.

Yet his sight had abandoned him. There was no light in the halls as there had been in Bel's bedroom, however slight. He was wandering aimlessly through the halls he knew too well to consider his journey aimless. With one arm tentatively outstreched, for he knew it would touch nothing, he wandered all 36 steps to the door of one person he doubted would be awake, but knew would not refuse his company.

There was no knock nor hesitation as the blonde twisted the doorknob to the right, gliding so effortlessly he needed only use his forefinger and thumb. He didn't need to ask for permission or creep to the sleeping figure's side in shyness and gently nudge him on the shoulder to get noticed. Silently, the boy flew across the room in two fleeting steps and leapt onto his friend's bed without a trace of his path.

Squalo, who may or may not have been asleep, rolled over on his back to see Bel's grinning visage facing down at him. "What," Squalo whispered tonelessly, closing his eyes despite his inability to go to sleep now.

The sleeve of Bel's large shirt slid down his arm when he raised a sharp fingernail to brush well-maintained bangs aside. "I can't sleep," Bel informed the shark of the part he already knew. "I was wondering if you could read me a bedtime story."

Squalo froze at the sound of this, wide-eyed at Bel's request. But his wide eyes narrowed when he thought about it, and the more he thought, the more ridiculous the request sounded. He looked to the side to see the eyeless prince sitting with his slim legs tucked under him and a slight frown on his face, the silver tiara still resting haphazardly on his mop of blonde hair proving that nothing had changed since back then besides the kid's height.

The long-haired man propped his pillow up and leaned back on it, not looking at Bel. "I can't remember the last time I read you a bedtime story," he said dryly, looking instead at his hands.

"I can," Bel replied, his usual grin reduced to a small, kind smile more fit for a prince than anything else. "It was eight years ago."

Squalo's eyes shut tightly this time, and his lips turned to a deeper frown at the sound of the words "eight years". Bel had only been eight years old at the time, and yet his killing talent was as sharp as ever. A child that had wanted to be a part of the Varia, and Squalo had watched him and cared for him like a little brother. So why couldn't he now?

"Sorry. Go back to sleep," Squalo answered finally, moving to lay back down. Bel didn't try to stop him, but knew he could. His trademark grin crept back onto his face and he tried not to laugh.

"You haven't read to me in eight years. All because the Boss had been frozen and you were too depressed to do something so simple." Squalo stopped moving. "Boss is better now, though. We saved him. He's just down the hall, sleeping in his bed instead of in ice. So why do you still refuse?"

The tension between the two hung in the air heavily. Squalo almost felt himself shaking, in anger or in cowardice, and when he lifted his head, he felt his hair pull from under his hand. His long hair that he'd grown out for his boss, a promise that he would follow him until that plan was realized. What was holding him back now?

"Time's have changed, Bel," Squalo finally said, as carefully as he could.

"That's not true," Bel denied in return. "You won't read to me because you're still worrying." Their eyes had adjusted to the darkness now. "You're still living in fear that you're going to-"

"Shut up!" Squalo hit Bel with a pillow before realizing what a childish gesture that was and smiling to himself. Weakly. Bel smiled, too. "I'm not living in fear at all. Boss can do anything. Xanxus can do anything, and I believe in him!" But no offer to comfort Bel came, and the prince was forced to do something he'd not intended.

"Well, then. Let me tell you a story." Bel pulled the chain of the nearest lamp and the room became instantly illuminated by artificial light. Squalo raised his metal hand to shield his eyes, propping himself up with his right arm. Bel, without a book for reference, opened his mouth and began.

- - - & - - - & - - -

"Heeey, what are you doing, brat?!" Squalo exclaimed as the small blonde child climbed up onto the other's bed. "You were supposed to be in bed an hour ago!"

The evening was still early, back when eight-year olds had to go to sleep before it really got dark. "The prince can't sleep," Bel complained, scooting closer to Squalo. "Can you read me a bedtime story?"

Squalo rolled his eyes, flicking on a nearby lamp to properly see the boy's face. "Once upon a time, this guy and girl got married and lived happily ever after. The end." The shark looked over at his friend in satisfaction, only to see his small frown and slightly trembling lip. "What?"

"That wasn't a story! That was sentence!"

"Heeeeey, didn't you like it?! Don't point those at me-!"

"No, I didn't like it! No one died!" Bel had grabbed a hold of Squalo's short, silver hair, equally silver knives arranged between his fingers. "Tell me a real story!"

"I don't know anyyyy!" Squalo pushed the child off him, but Bel crouched low on the bed like a cat, both afraid Squalo would hit him and ready to pounce on Squalo if he made that move. "Jeez, you're such a pain!"

"Make one up," Bel commanded, lying down on Squalo's large bed big enough for the two of them.

Squalo's eyes, heated in annoyance, looked around the room until he caught sight of his sword, leaning against the corner of his room. Smiling, he cleared his throat. "Fine, you win. Once upon a time, there was a prince. One day, while he was in his castle, he accidently killed his brother." Bel frowned, recognizing the story immediately, but Squalo kept on talking.

"After that, he met an evil group known as the Varia. Not knowing what to do with his killing talent as a prince, he voluntarily joined them and became an assassin." Squalo was stopped when Bel moved closer to him, probably glaring at him but he was unable to tell. "What now?"

"This is just the story of my life. You have to tell me a story story. It can't be real." Squalo just frowned in puzzlement. "Haven't you ever read any fairy tales or anything? It's all impossible stuff that can't happen!"

"Okay, I'll think of something," Squalo remarked, scratching the back of his head as Bel settled next to him. "Something that can't happen, huh...?"

"Hurry up. It's getting dark," Bel prompted. "Come oooon alrea-"

"Okaaaay! So then, the prince/assassin followed his new leader into the large, mansion-like headquarters that would be his new home." He paused for a moment as Bel faced him expectantly. "The leader went up to a woman, turned back to the prince, and said, 'This is my wife. Don't talk to her.' The two continued the tour, but the prince swore to himself to talk to the woman later."

Bel was now fully interested in the story, and Squalo's mind raced to make things up in time. "Uuh, so that night, Bel- er, the prince snuck up to the woman's room and went inside. He went over to the bed she was seated on and introduced himself. She had long, soft silver hair that she took very good care of, and- Hey! Don't look at me like that!"

Bel was laughing softly to himself, picturing Squalo as a girl, and Squalo picked up his pillow and hit Bel with it. "You said something that could never happen!" he explained, blushing. "If you don't like it, then I'll stop!"

"No, no. I'm enjoying it. Keep going." Bel quieted down. "Still, you with long hair? It's hard to imagine." Squalo's face fell slightly, remembering the promise he made to his boss. He silently wondered if he'd make it that far, or if Xanxus would reach his goal sooner than that. Pushing the thought aside, he continued his story.

"However, when he looked at her face, he not only realized how beautiful she was up close, but also that she had been crying. 'What's your name?' he asked the woman."

Clearing his throat again, Squalo said, "'Why, my name is Squalo. You must be the new assassin who works for my husband.'" Squalo's perfect imitation of a girl's voice had Bel laughing quietly, and the other even smiled a little. "'You mustn't be up here. If he finds you, then I-!' The prince interrupted her with the question 'Why are you crying?' Squalo hesitated before telling him the whole story."

"'It's my husband. He-' Stop laughing, dammit!" Squalo stopped again as Bel continued to find Squalo's story so hilarious he couldn't focus on the rest of it. "Pay attention! It gets good." Adjusting his voice, he went on with the woman's story. "'He's just so mean to me! He always hits me and calls me names and says I'm worthless when I do everything I can for him! I just wish he would treat me like his wife and maybe I wouldn't want to kill him so much.'" Bel didn't notice the woman's abrupt desire to kill her husband, nor did he pick up on any kind of symbolism in Squalo's make-believe tale.

"After hearing Squalo's story, the prince promised to save her from her evil husband and the two went downstairs together. The prince went into his leader's room and protected Squalo as he fearlessly killed Xan- I mean, the husband! The Varia was now under no one's rule." Bel was silent.

"'Young assassin,' the woman said, kneeling by her savior's side. 'Your actions tonight were those of a true prince. I thank you from the bottom of my heart, but also advise you go back to your homeland and rule there.'" Squalo accidently let his voice return to normal as he said, "'As for the Varia, I'll be taking over now that that bastard's dead!" Bel just looked at him strangely, and Squalo tried to pretend he didn't give himself away. "The prince and the woman were separated, but they were both doing what they were born to do, and they lived happily ever after."

Bel simply grinned and nuzzled closer to his friend. "That was a good story. I liked it a lot."

"I liked it, too," a voice said from the doorway, and the other two turned in surprise. Xanxus was leaning against the doorframe, looking content for the first time in a while, his face entirely clear of any scars.

"H-how long have you been there?!" Squalo asked incredulously, too many things rushing through his mind at that moment.

"Long enough," their boss replied, and whether he was angry with Squalo or not, he was smiling. When the others smiled back, however, he was instantly scowling again. "Now go to bed."

"Good night, Boss!" Bel chimed, happily pulling the sheets over him. "And good night, Squalo."

Squalo lied down in bed beside his small friend, flicking the lamp off. "Good night, Bel."

- - - & - - - & - - -

Squalo was silent, and Bel was grinning. "Do you remember that one?" the prince asked, forcing an answer out of Squalo. The swordsman flinched, but nodded.

They both knew they would never sleep in the same bed together. They both knew Bel would never hear another bedtime story for as long as he lived. They both knew Xanxus would never stand in their doorway again with a smile on his face. Those memories were meant for the past and could not be re-lived. In reality, those memories were nothing but a story. As Bel and Squalo sat on that very same bed, they remembered something that could not actually happen.

"Good night, Bel," Squalo said again, his mouth dry and hoarse with words he could not say. Bel was still smiling as he descended from Squalo's bed. This time, he turned off the lamp, and the light was extinguished, everything bathed in darkness again.

"Good night, Squalo," Bel echoed, walking out of the room, back to his own. He closed the door tentatively behind him and listened to the door latch, the last sound he would hear that night.

Nights at Varia Headquarters could be empty and wordless. They could be unreal, they could be dreams or nightmares, they could be things to remember or things to forget. They could be stories. As Bel settled back in bed, he wondered: What's the real story? What's the real fairy tale? Was it the past, or the present? Would he wake up from this dream, from this story, and find himself in life? Or were they one and the same?

Fin nijuu July 2nd, 2008 5:02 p.m.