The boy silently blinked his green colored eyes, focus on his adoptive brother. He minutely frowned, a small almost unnoticeable crease forming between his brows.

His mind remained a bit fuzzy from his previously comatose state, and there was a strange blank in his memory. He hadn't forgotten anything so to say, only the events before his fall. He could tell someone his life story without any trouble yet there was this nagging feeling, telling him that he forgot.

What?

What did he forget?

He mutely observed his grandmother and cousin, his eyes flickering to the car window as he looked at the passing scenery. From his grandmother's behavior, he didn't think it was anything important—

Wrong

It had nothing to do with his grandmother, Mikaël was the one nagging at those forgotten memories. Every time the boy tried to let them go they would come charging back the moment he laid eyes on the older's figure.

As if they were connected.

Francis didn't understand, he didn't think of himself as dumb, and for a six-year-old, he thought he was quite smart on the contrary. At least, smarter than those loud voices back at school. And those annoying adults who reprimanded him, or those housewives that picked their kids' up while clucking, truly annoying.

He digressed.

The fact was the number of people Fran considered smart or worth his time was scarce.

"'Something on your mind Francchi?"

Fran blinked, sliding his gaze to meet Mikaël's golden irises in the rearview mirror. It had been some time since he last saw his cousin, four years at least, his memory of the male was blurry yet he felt like he had seen him not so long ago.

In a dream perhaps, after his grandmother showed him a picture?

He doubted it, he didn't remember ever dreaming of the older teen in such a clear way. He hummed in answer, uttering a one-word response as he stared into those pools of mesmerizing gold as if they would tell him the answer to his 'amnesia.'

The way Mikaël's smile turned faker didn't go past the boy. How did he manage to read the older's expression? He didn't know, maybe instincts? How the older gently rubbed his earlobe didn't go past him either, whenever Mikaël rubbed his earlobe it meant he was stressed, hiding something—

How did he know that?

A two-year-old wouldn't have noticed such things, much less remembered them, so why did the six-year-old him know? Instinct again?

He bit his lower lip, his gaze smoothly going back to look at the road. It was uncomfortable, how he didn't understand his mind yet understood every move around him, always seeing underneath the underneath.

That wasn't normal, it wasn't. How could he read people so easily after waking up from a micro coma? It wasn't like getting hit on the head made one smarter, on the contrary, you usually get dumber afterward.

It wasn't normal. His mind wasn't, his behavior wasn't, he wasn't normal. None of what was happening to him was rational.

"Francis we've arrived, you can get down now."

His grandmother's soothing voice brought him out of his musings. Abruptly lifting his gaze to look up at the old lady he blinked his eyes, not noticing when they had watered before gently gripping his granny's coat.

"Oh, Little Francis does it hurt anywhere, tell Mamie, yeah?" Renée gently coaxed as she kneeled to her grandson's level, embracing him and tenderly rocking him to calm his sobs.

Fran whimpered, he didn't understand his reaction. It was as if his mind overloaded and needed to let go all at once.

He felt scared, afraid that one day he would wake up without his grandmother by his side. Yet, immensely relieved by the sight of the older woman in front of him.

She was there, she wasn't dead. Not yet.

He couldn't understand his thoughts process but it didn't matter, at that moment his grandmother's embrace was the most comforting thing ever given to him.

Renée gave a bitter smile, her hand carefully patting her grandson's back. She didn't understand where those heartbroken sobs came from and it saddened her, yet she felt some relief when the boy cried.

Much like Mikaël as a child, Francis wasn't the most expressive. While Mikaël hid behind a mask of smiles and laughter, Francis concealed himself in a veil of monotony and sarcasm.

Fran crying, although it broke her heart, it also soothed her mind. The boy was only a child, him acting like one was good, he shouldn't need to burden himself by repressing his feelings.

::

"Don't wander off too far boys," Renée demanded as she let her two grandsons out of the house to play, it was the weekend, a week since Francis was discharged and Mikaël came to France.

"Don't worry mamiecchi, I'll look over Francchi, we'll be back for dinner at the latest," Ryota reassured, beaming his grandmother a genuine smile.

The elder woman shook her head good-naturedly, waving her hand as she ushered both boys to go before she changed her mind.

The two siblings walked side by side in a rather comfortable silence to the riverside. Ryota carefully watched his cousin's steps, making sure he didn't trip, lest he got hurt and went to the hospital again.

Unlike when he questioned Junichiro about his memories, Ryota's mind was at ease. After hearing of his brother's minor memory loss and seeing as he didn't evoke the 'Future', he deduced he forgot those events.

Though slightly disappointed, he mostly felt relieved, he didn't need his baby brother's mind to be tainted by the underworld. He was only six, he didn't need to bother himself with this dangerous stuffs, if possible, Mikaël hoped he would never get involved with them— both the Varia and Mukuro.

"Big brother," Ryota hummed. "When are you going back to Japan?"

The green head paused, taking the younger's words into account. If he didn't go back tomorrow then he would go back on Monday, in the morning. He couldn't miss too many classes and his quota of "sick-days" was long exhausted.

"Tomorrow or the day after I think, actually, Claudecchi said he'll drop by tonight so I'll ask him," Ryota answered after some thinking, a mild smile on his face. Neither sad nor happy by his situation.

Francis hummed, silence settled and in this fashion, they soon reached the riverbank. Peebles laid everywhere as the clear water trickled down the mountain. This place was Fran's favorite spot to play, it wasn't far from their house so Renée let him wander there unsupervised, and not many people came around, making the place calm and devoid of human populations.

Well, from time to time hikers would stop by, but there weren't many.

Fran confidently marched to the stream, dipping his shoe in the cold water before he felt someone grab his arm and pulling him away from the stream.

"Brother?"

Ryota smiled, he heaved a sigh. "Take off your shoes first," he instructed, already kneeling to untie the boy's laces before slipping his footwear off. "You don't want to wet them," his hands moved in used practice as if he had done the actions hundreds of times before.

Fran hummed, tilting his head to the side he let Mikaël take care of him before sending him an inquiring glance.

Ryota laughed, "You can go now, be careful."

Fran gave a quick nod before once again walking up to the riverbank. His steps careful, as not to step on any sharp rock before he gently dipped his toes in the cold water. A chill went down his spine at the cool liquid against his skin and he refrained himself from shivering, he didn't want Mikaël to drag him out of the water so soon.

One foot, then another, Fran smiled to himself as he walked deeper into the stream, his default poker face back in place as he took a comfortable seat on one of the rocks.

From where he was, he could see Mikaël sitting at the shore, his small shoes on his lap as he carefully observed him. Fran waved, Mikaël waved back. They weren't far from one another, the weather was good and Fran knew his brother was basking in the sun.

Observing his brother for a moment, Fran breathed. "Say, what is your favorite fruit, Mika?"

Ryota blinked, not quite expecting the question before humming in thoughts. A favorite fruit? He didn't have any, but if asked, what he loved most was his grandmother's apple tart, therefore, "Apples?" he answered, not sure of his answer.

Fran tilted his head, his green bangs swaying with his movement. "Apples?" he repeated. "The fruits grandma uses for her tarts?"

Ryota smiled, nodding. "Yeah, those."

"Then, who is your favorite person, Mika?"

Ryota choked on his saliva, it took him some time to get his composure back as he continued to cough on nothing. But his favorite person, he hadn't thought about it. If it was the past him, the one from before the plane crash, he would have probably said his lover and daughter. But now— "I've never thought about it," he revealed with some embarrassment.

Fran nodded before he pursed his lips. "Then," he stood up, now seeming much taller from the rock he was on. "What about now?" he asked, waving his hand before taking a pose, one he saw in a magazine Mikaël starred in.

Ryota's eyes widened, mouth agape. How? He was sure Francchi didn't remember so how could he—

"I'm an apple now, so I'm your favorite, right?" Fran asked with a deadpan, mischief in his eyes as he boasted his hat. Seeing the reaction wasn't quite right he paused. "Maybe, brother you prefer red apples?" he questioned, and following his words, the green apple turned red.

"How? How did you do that?"

Fran hummed, twirling on himself before slipping and falling on his but in the water. He begrudgingly rubbed his back and met with his brother's hand, ready to pull him back up.

"Be careful, Francchi, did you get hurt?"

Fran shook his head. "Everything's alright," he confirmed, standing up. His green eyes trailed on his brother's figure and he frowned. "Mika, you should take your shoes off, they'll get wet," he reprimanded.

Ryota chuckled, gently ruffling— well, patting Fran's hat. "I'll do that," he promised as he carefully went out of the stream. "But you didn't answer my question, Fran," he reminded, taking his footwear off and emptying them of the water.

Fran hummed, following his brother as he jumped from one rock to another with practiced ease. "Well," he drawled. "I don't know. I simply know how," he said, his voice unwavering. "I mean, you can't do it brother?" he inquired, his face showing some worry and a glint of fear.

Was he truly abnormal since he woke up? Would Mika leave him? What about grandma?

Ryota didn't answer immediately but noticing the state his brother was in he blurted out the truth. "O-of course I can too," he reassured, sighing in relief as he saw the younger's face minutely brighten.

"Really? Show me!" he enthusiastically exclaimed, his eyes glinting with childish curiosity.

Ryota nodded, he didn't know what to do and without thinking, he waved his hand. An indigoish mist gather around it before amassing in a strange figure next to himself, the mist dispersed and there was a small girl, no older than five.

Ryota froze, Fran blanked.

"Whoah! Can it move?" Fran excitedly asked, suddenly much closer to his brother and the mist figure. Silence greeted him and Fran calmed himself to look at the older green head. "Brother?"

Ryota blinked, "Ah, yeah sure. Of course, she can," he said with a plastic smile, automatically reaching to rub his earlobe as he stood up to take a better look at the girl.

Fran didn't say anything about the older's behavior. "Great, how does it work?"

Ryota hummed. "She's not an 'it' Francchi, her name is Elleanor," he introduced, hidden longing in his eyes as he met 'her' eyes. "Ella," he added, his hand gently rubbed her hair and the way it felt so smooth against his fingertips sent a pang in his chest.

"Ella," Fran repeated. "Say, how old are you?" he asked the image.

The figure moved its hand, showing off five of her fingers as she flashed the other boy a bright dazzling smile. Ryota stumbled to the side, taking a seat and unconsciously maintaining the illusion as he kept an ear and eye on their interaction.

"Let's play, Ella," Fran indicated as he pointed toward the stream, his face back to its default expression, though the slight anticipation in his eyes didn't go unnoticed.

'Ella' gave a firm nod before waving at Ryota and walking to the stream.

Ryota observed the 'two' kids play with one another and he couldn't help the deprecating smile from creeping up his lips.

Ah, Mist Flames were truly too dangerous.

For those who didn't understand, Elleanor is Ryota's adopted daughter from his former life.

Thanks for reading, until next time^^