"Is he dead?"

Mana was brought back from his thoughts by that simple question. He'd been staring blankly at his dead dog, not shedding a single tear as he set the dog in the shallow grave he'd dug for him in the cold December ground.

"He's dead," Mana confirmed, not looking up from his former "assistant's" corpse. He stole a glance at the child—he looked a little familiar somehow, but Mana couldn't place from where.

"He's covered in bruises," the child commented. He came closer, but still stayed a small distance from the clown and his dog.

Mana simply nodded and started burying his old friend. He listened as the boy accused Cosimo, one of the other performers in the circus, of beating the poor dog to death. He could tell by how the child spoke of him that he knew first hand of what Cosimo could do when he was mad or jealous.

"He was an old dog. He wouldn't have lived much longer, anyway." Mana set a single juggling ball—his dog's favorite one—on the grave to act as marker for his old friend. There wasn't much else he could do for him now.

The boy sat next to Mana, but still kept space between them. He watched Mana brush the dirt off his hands, then frowned. "You're not gonna get revenge?"

"If I do that, I'll get thrown out of here and not get paid," Mana said. He put his hands together and said a quick prayer for his dead friend. He noticed from the corner of his eye that the boy seemed almost irritated with his pacifistic response.

Really, Mana didn't care if he got revenge or not. What point was there? Revenge wouldn't bring his dog back. In the end, it would only hurt anyone involved. Mana had learned that time and time again in his many years.

"I'm a newcomer, after all," Mana continued once his little prayer had been said. "After tomorrow, I'll move onto somewhere new."

"I see."

Mana could detect the slightest hint of envy in the boy's voice. So he wants to leave, too, he thought, watching the boy from the corner of his eye again. There was something familiar about the boy, something familiar in the way he held his head and scowled off in the distance. It reminded him of someone... but who?

"Who are you, anyway?" Mana at last asked. He'd long since given up on being embarrassed about his having to ask for names to go with the faces he recognized. He'd met so many people, it was difficult for him to remember which name went with which face, or if he'd even met that person before.

"I do odd jobs around here," the boy explained with a sigh. "I've brought you dinner before." He seemed used to being ignored and forgotten.

"I have a bad memory when it comes to faces," Mana admitted. Why was he telling this boy about himself? Maybe it was that familiarity... He finally looked at the boy directly and frowned. "You're covered in bruises!" he said, surprised. He licked his finger and started rubbing at one of the blotches on Allen's face. He wanted to make sure the injuries weren't as bad as they seemed with all the dirt caked on.

"Ew! Gross!" The boy scrambled away from the clown, at last taking his hand out of his pocket to swat Mana's hand away. "Get your spit off me!"

Mana smiled. This boy really did remind him of someone, but he still couldn't think who. "Did Cosimo beat you up?"

"Shut up," the boy grumbled. He wiped away Mana's spit with his left hand, the one that had been in his pocket, at last giving Mana a good view of it. It was red and scaly and disgusting looking.

"Don't you have any friends?" Mana asked.

"Shut up!"

He'd hit a sore spot with that question. Mana felt sorry for the boy next to him. His hand probably put a damper on any relationship he tried to start, so he'd given up on starting any. That would certainly explain his lack of patience and respect for Mana. Poor boy. So young, yet already seeing the cruelty of this world.

Mana didn't have a chance to apologize for his question before the boy started speaking again. "When I grow up... I'm getting out of here, soon as I'm strong enough, so I don't need any friends."

Poor boy. Mana decided he had to do something to get the boy to smile, to show him that the whole world wasn't quite as cruel as he seemed to be making it. He made a face. In retrospect, it was probably stupid, but most kids laughed at it.

"What are you doing?" the boy asked, his voice flat with irritation. It was hard to believe the boy was still just a child.

Mana stopped making his face. "You didn't think it was funny?" he asked, tilting his head in amusement. Even adults laughed when he made stupid faces.

"I hate clowns," was the boy's simple response.

"Well I hate children who don't laugh once in a while," Mana replied. He wondered if he'd gone too far with the comment, since the boy didn't say anything, but when he glanced over at him, the boy seemed pensive, like he was actually considering it.

"Aren't... you gonna cry?" the boy mumbled at last. He'd gone back to staring at the dog's grave. "He was with you a really long time, right? Aren't you sad?"

"So sad I could die," Mana replied, pulling a rope from his sleeve. He made a quick noose and pretended to hang himself.

"Quit it!" the boy shouted. It was hard to tell if he was scared that Mana would actually do such a thing or mad that the man would even consider joking about something like that. Mana could tell that the boy thought him crazy, either way.

"I can't cry," Mana said, undoing his noose so the boy wouldn't have any reason to panic. "Maybe my tears have all dried up. They just... won't come."

The child stared at Mana a minute, then turned back to the grave. He didn't believe him, but what was new about that? Few believed Mana when he said he could no longer cry. Few had seen the tragedies Mana had seen for so long, after all. The few who had broke and either died or continued living, a shell of their former selves. Mana liked to think he was neither, but he knew he was just as broken as all the others.

"What... was his name?" the child asked at last. He looked at his deformed hand. "He licked my hand yesterday. His tongue was warm..." Tears were rolling down his cheeks. "How come I'm crying over him?" He sobbed, and finally, he looked like the child he should have been.

"I see," Mana said. It at last made sense to him. The boy reminded him of his brother... The brother he'd long since lost.

Mana's eyes widened. No, he thought. He kneeled next to the sobbing boy. He didn't. Allen, you didn't! "Boy, what's your name?" he asked, just barely able to mask the urgency in his voice.

"Allen," the boy hiccuped between sobs.

Everything Mana's brother said came back to him. "I'm gonna leave someone for you, Mana," he'd said. "I'm gonna give someone my memories so that when the Earl catches up to me, you won't be all alone."

"Allen, do you want to come with me?" Mana asked. "I'm leaving tomorrow. I'll be going far away from here."

The boy's eyes widened. "W-why would you want me?" he sniffled.

"It gets lonely traveling," Mana explained. "My dog was my companion, but now I'll be all alone again."

Allen frowned, almost pouted. "You just want me to replace your dog."

"Hey, Nicoli was a smart dog."

"I don't care how smart he was, I'm not replacing your dog."

"You're not replacing Nicoli," Mana said, exasperated. He had to get Allen to come with him, but he wanted the child to come willingly. Mana was a clown, not a kidnapper.

"What if I don't want to leave?"

"You told me before you did."

"What if I don't want to go with you?"

"You can leave any time you want. I'm not forcing you to stick around with me."

Allen tilted his head. "Why do you want me around?"

"We already went through this. It gets lonely traveling, and—"

"That's not what I meant." Allen stood and brushed the dirt from his pants. "Why me? Why not just go find another dog or something?"

Mana pursed his lips. You have my brother's memories, for one thing, he thought stubbornly. "I have my reasons."

"Are you gonna tell me them?"

Mana was glad for the clown make up he was wearing. He could feel himself blushing. "I'd like the company of a person who'll tell me what they think," he lied. He had three reasons for wanting Allen to come with him, two being from guilt, the third being more complicated and embarrassing.

The guilt reasons were obvious. His brother had forced this boy to take his memories, even if the child didn't realize it. Mana was going to take care of him as an apology. Then there was the fact that Mana was a rather good magician. Even as they spoke, Mana was running through his head all the spells that he'd ever learned, trying to find the right one to seal the Fourteenth's memories so that this boy could continue being who he was and not who the Fourteenth once was.

The third reason was rather personal, as far as Mana was concerned. His brother had teased him for years about it, but all Mana really wanted in life was to settle down and have a family. The problem was, Mana couldn't have children. His magic had taken that away from him. He wasn't going to tell Allen that, of course.

"You're lying, Mr." Allen started walking away, but stopped. "Hey, Mr."

"Hmm?"

"Are you really gonna take me with you?"

"That's what I've been saying."

"You're not just gonna dump me off at some sweatshop?"

"Of course not."

Allen turned back and came closer to Mana. "You don't... hate me because of my hand?"

Mana laughed and leaned closer. "Between you and me, I have webbed toes."

"Eh?! Really?!"

"No, but I know someone who does."

Allen grinned. "So when're we leaving?"

"We'll leave tomorrow, soon as I get paid."

Allen's smile grew. He hugged Mana around the middle.

So quick to trust me... Mana thought, patting Allen on the head. I wonder if he made it that way...?

Well, first chapter!

This is my second fic with Mana and Allen in it, so tell me if you see any blaring errors.

Hope you enjoyed it and will continue reading!