Work Text:
I
Negation
With care, he tried to polish a giant, brightly colored ball. There was no particular reason, perhaps just the habit of a repetitive task. He used to do it all the time: polishing, cleaning, running errands, serving food to the circus performers. That used to be his routine, but now that place had been reduced to ashes. Certainly, the place had been a hell for a long time; he had received all kinds of mistreatment there, but...not everything had been bad.
At least that's what he'd like to think as he tried to delve into his memories.
Now everything was certainly different. There was something, or rather someone, finally he had something to hold onto, a promise, one that had given meaning to his life and soul, which until then had wandered aimlessly. One last time he rubbed the ball and saw his own face through the shine of the giant ball. He hadn't had the chance to try a trick with it himself. The only time he had been part of a show was sitting on Mana's shoulder, while he performed a trick that made beautiful flowers bloom. He wondered if he would be able to do something like that too, yeah...someday.
"Do you want to use the ball?"
The voice took him by surprise, which made Red jump slightly.
"Huh??...no, n-no at all"
More out of reflex than anything else, he moved away almost stumbling.
Mana moistened his finger with saliva and approached his face, wiping a stain from the child's cheek.
"I told you to stop doing that!"
The boy shot a murderous glare at the adult man and wiped the ball with his shirtsleeve, trying to hide his embarrassment.
"I'm sorry," the man said, clasping his hands together in a gesture of apology and bowing his head.
"It doesn't matter...look, it's ready! Bring the other things," he said before starting to roll up the sleeves of his shirt.
After constantly moving from place to place, money was starting to run out and they would have to find ways to make a living; they hadn't had any luck settling down anywhere.
So doing street performances independently was his best option.
Mana knelt beside the child.
"Let's eat together," his voice was too kind, perhaps the closest thing to home Allen would ever have.
But the two of them were not exactly father and son, yet Allen let himself be carried away by the warmth that this artificial bond provided. For him, mana had adopted him and from then on he began to use his last name.
But the reality was that the older man was not exactly in his right mind to take care of himself, much less a child. For Allen, mana was like a father to him.
Just as he was about to refuse, the sound of his stomach made his cheeks turn red.
After all, a break would do them both good; after wandering aimlessly, they deserved at least this much.
"Fine, you win," he said reluctantly.
Allen took a piece of bread and took a bite.
"Mana you..."
"Huh? Are you talking to me?"
Allen held his gaze with determination, fixed on the man who childishly pointed at himself, completely oblivious to all reality.
It was painful to watch...
"I will help you find your brother! I promise, and I won't rest until you are reunited with him."
Mana didn't even look at it, he ran a finger over the texture of the bread as if tracing a cut, looking incredibly disoriented.
"I...was looking for someone?"
"Mana..."
But it wasn't always a disaster; there were times when the man seemed to regain some stability... he hummed that melody even more frequently, a melody that unconsciously resonated deeply within Allen. There were times when I watched the man cry and writhe in his sleep.
Allen didn't know what to do to alleviate his burden, even forgetting about his own.
It was painful to watch; he witnessed the decline of someone he loved.
"Hey...I'd like to learn a trick"
"Oh Allen, but you already help me too much."
he said in his sweet voice...
A smile lit up the little boy's eyes
"Just by wagging your tail, it's enough to make viewers melt with cuteness."
It wasn't intentional to hurt the child with his words, and that...was certainly the worst part.
II
Negotiation
And so time passed, and with it, the deception too...
"Are you leaving those strange symbols again?"
He had grown accustomed now to being called Allen, leaving behind in that city where he was last called Red.
Everywhere they went, Mana made sure to leave that kind of writing somewhere...usually trees.
I explain the meaning of that writing or character, as I call it; it translated something like "I am here" or "I am still here."
"They're like a talisman, a prayer... I draw many of these so that God will see them... so that He will find me."
Allen had his own version: God did not exist...he was an invention of human beings to avoid feeling alone in existence.
He wonders what kind of God would abandon...someone who was so kind it was painful, Mana who loved the world with all his being even if he wasn't rewarded for it.
In that case, God must have been blind; otherwise, Allen couldn't explain how there was so much misery.
The criminals laughed, while the victims cried.
III
Fury and Sadness
Mana balanced on that large ball, while Allen made his way through the crowd holding a hat in his hands, smiling softly and thanking the spectators.
Suddenly the applause stopped and turned into whispers, into screams of horror.
Allen looked towards Mana, who had fallen to his knees. It had happened again, that strange kind of matter he had seen that night at the circus. Mana put his hands to his head, unable to control something that was not visible to the rest. His face full of tears called out for his brother and the name of a woman that Allen had never heard before. He hugged Mana, waiting for it all to end.
Weeks had passed since this had last happened, Allen thought...there was a chance the mana condition would improve, but now right in front of him he just wanted to hug the man tightly, to make him feel that someone was there for him, that he wasn't alone.
"Don't cry...don't cry...don't cry anymore"
He repeated to himself
Despite traveling with him for two years, Allen still didn't know what was causing the affliction.
looked at the faces of the spectators who, until just a couple of moments ago, were smiling, laughing and applauding, but all that dissipated...what I saw now was repulsion, anger, disgust and... finally followed by boos from the crowd.
Many others simply left
"Hey kid, you'd better give back the money we gave you."
Allen was sure that none of the three of them had given any kind of tip even though they were in the crowd.
How could they even think about it? There was someone in bad shape right in front of their noses.
Why couldn't anyone help him?
Allen felt a chill run down his spine, shaking his mana body desperately.
Allen had a bad feeling.
"I'll do it, take the money, but in return" Allen looked at Mana and held out his hat, "Help me"
"Ha, it doesn't seem to be bleeding," one of them said, playing with a small kitchen knife between his fingers.
And then one of them looked mockingly at Mana.
His wounds were not...external.
And that made it even more difficult to deal with.
Mana got up and Allen started pulling him along. Allen left behind the hat with the money they had obtained and concentrated on getting them both out of there.
Fortunately, he cooperated as Allen's small hand guided him away from the place.
After that, Allen took one last look out of the corner of his eye through the church door, before going back inside with Mana, who fortunately was calmer.
The boy was finally able to break down but he didn't allow himself to cry freely... he was doing exactly what Mana did.
The days passed, but calm never returned.
From then on, the church became a recurring place for both of them, right now... Allen thought that the intimidating and hostile-looking man with red hair must still be lurking around, if so... he was taking his sweet time.
Day after day, Allen gazed at one of the church's framed, angelic-looking pictures, when he heard Mana's faint voice.
"Allen... do you want us to cuddle up to sleep?"
maybe...
He could never refuse; besides, sleeping was better than staying awake and feeling hungry.
At this point, Mana could no longer continue doing street shows as a clown. Allen began trying to learn on his own, mostly in secret. He had the unique ability to learn quickly and watched Mana's shows with admiration and attention.
However, it was not entirely enough.
That was the last night he felt that familiar warmth, clinging to mana, before he slipped from his fragile arms.
Even if everything were taken from him...
Or to lose himself, the memory of mana became his mask.
IV
Acceptance
"Mana..."
"What did you see when you looked at me?"
"Did you ever realize that it was Red... that kid you called Pierrot Boy and not Allen?"
"Did you ever see me for who I was?..."
"I'd like to think that's how it was."
"I need to think that's how it was..."
A young man kneels before an empty tomb, it is in such bad condition that the name written on it has begun to fade, a stark reminder of the passage of time. In his trembling hands, he holds a pair of flowers, fearing that his mere touch will wither them. He doesn't understand why he has come here; he simply wanted to. His face looks exhausted, and his mind is a mess. He has finally made his way toward the truth, but it is not so easy to assimilate, yet he still believes in forging his own destiny.
"Hello Mana...I'm back"
Mana was close to him on numerous occasions, or rather the count was, a truth that makes him shudder.
Wondering if there's still something of that broken man inside that suit...
A small smile appears on his face, but it simply doesn't reach his eyes, which lack that particular sparkle that always characterized his.
A mask that now undoubtedly looks cracked...
A mask that has become so difficult to hold...
The Mask of Mana
Standing before the tomb, he is unable to deny what he feels: guilt, pain, sadness, fear, and anger—all those emotions threatening to overflow and destroy him.
That important someone...
Unlike Mana, who struggled not to cry, believing he had enough tears throughout his life, believing they had finally dried up, Allen instead allows himself to cry over that grave.
Everything he had believed for years was a lie; Mana is his happiest memory and also his most bitter memory.
His memories...
How reliable can they be right now?
"What am I supposed to do?"
He asks himself
He couldn't help but think about the time he traveled with Mana, how happy he was.
But was there really happiness in it?
No, there wasn't one. I was traveling with him because of guilt.
He stayed with Mana, not out of affection but out of guilt, even if it meant taking "Allen's" place.
Why should someone have to take the blame for what happened and stay?
As an atonement in search of recovering what was lost.
He felt responsible for the state in which the mana mind had been reduced, fragmented to such a magnitude that it could not differentiate reality from fairy tales, although well it already did that before, but instead this was much worse to such a point that it was unable to continue traveling.
An empty shell...
Mana was never truly sane; he was a broken man when he met his, but thinking about it only made his promise the most important thing to him...
That's what he had come so far for, that's what he kept striving for even though he clearly couldn't do any more.
"I made a promise to someone who doesn't even remember me."
he said with a somber expression, unable to hold back his tears any longer. His fingers dug into the loose earth, desperately wanting to grasp something.
he hated feeling so vulnerable.
The day he made that promise, he told himself that he would be there for him whenever he forgot, that he would take care of remembering for him, as a way of making up for what had happened, and that despite the years, the words of his master Cross weighed on his mind, all these years hiding under the mask of the person he admired and loved the most.
"Keep walking"
Those were the words that Mana had given him.
All these years I tried to avoid ignoring his doubts about Mana, because I knew that meant he would have to doubt himself.
And that was what terrified him the most.
And now here he was, having discovered the truth and come so far, that he couldn't help but wonder.
He would do anything for mana,
But...would Mana do it for him?
"You've been alive all this time..."
he said, wiping the tears from his face, before lowering his head again.
"And I don't know how to feel about it"
The sadness, the pain of just moments ago, began to be displaced by rage and emotional pain. Mana had been alive all this time, worse still, he had crossed paths with him before without even knowing it... he was none other than the Millennium Earl whom he had to eliminate... whom Nea sought to assassinate. His memories... How much had he suppressed in his mind in order to protect herself?
"No"
He denied inwardly embracing himself
A guttural laugh echoed inside his head and before he realized it a dense fog seemed to engulf his consciousness; he was inside his own mind...he knew who was there right now.
Following that trail I advanced towards him, face to face, Allen remained with a neutral expression on his face as he looked at Nea.
The scene surrounding them both was enveloped in shades of gray, black and white; there was nothing else.
"Will you go after him? Just like he'll go after me?"
Trying to play on his weakness, Nea smiles.
"Yes, I have to do it"
Allen closed his eyes; he had already made a decision.
"I will kill him." Nea abruptly changes his smile to a completely expressionless one.
"I'm not going to allow it, not your way."
Allen can see how that has upset him.
"Mana was destined to break, you know that, right?"
"I don't believe it"
And there is no doubt in his words, which makes Nea back down.
"You know...you've risked so much for someone who doesn't remember you."
"For someone who will never return the affection you give them"
Allen lowers his gaze for a few moments before refocusing his attention on Nea.
"I know, but I don't expect to be rewarded or anything like that."
After those words, Nea frowned, clearly annoyed.
"I do this because I want to."
Nea clicked his tongue and began to walk away, turning his back on him. Clearly, this was not the response or reaction he had hoped for. he enjoyed playing with minds, but after failing to stir Allen's consciousness, he began to walk away.
"He will be free, and so will you..."
Nea glanced over his shoulder before beginning to disappear into the mist, like what he has been for the past thirty-five years, a ghost of the past.
It's so exhausting...
Allen opened his eyes, once again standing before Mana's grave, holding the flowers to his chest. He placed the flowers more carefully at the bottom of the empty coffin, next to the paper flower he had made back then.
While the gentle wind moves his hair.
"It's not goodbye, Mana"
He gets up, although he cannot forget Mana, since that would mean denying his past; he accepts that he can no longer continue to idealize his reinforcement and decides to remember and love him for what he was and not for what he believed he was.
It's strange...he doesn't feel bad about it, at least not entirely.
He takes a few steps, starting to walk away, before looking one last time at that grave.
"Until then"