AUTHOR'S NOTE: I think I spend more time thinking of a title than actually writing the piece.


Ever since we first met, I remember asking him many questions – some pretty simple ones, like what he liked to do most in his spare time, and quite a few more personal questions, like what he wanted to do after he killed the Claw.

But all of them paled in comparison to that one question I had always wanted to ask him.

During our travels, I knew that it would be something quite impossible, but…would it be more possible now? What would he say when I brought it up with him? I wanted, and at the same time, didn't want to know what his answer would be. Was this the best time to ask, or should I wait a little longer?

I leaned back on the bench, gazing up at the sky. It was a beautiful day; there weren't many clouds, and the sky was the perfect shade of blue. It was neither too hot nor too cold, and the park was quieter than usual. I glanced to my right, where he sat brushing what was left of his sandwich off his pants. While he was chasing the Claw, I almost never saw him so…content, like everything was right with the world.

I couldn't imagine how his expression would change if I suddenly dropped the question I wanted to ask him. I was just curious, but would he consider that as an excuse?

I desperately wanted to ask him, and yet part of me continued to hold back. My curiosity, I had to admit, had gotten me into trouble in the past. Would I be in trouble? I shook my head…though it was sort of an intimate question, it probably wasn't that serious.

Or was it? I could never be too sure.

I concentrated on twiddling my fingers on my lap and playing with a stray thread on my skirt pocket. Maybe it was about time I asked, and got it over with, instead of continuing to think about it as though it was a life or death decision.

That thought made me want to giggle. I tried to stop myself, but he noticed and turned to me.

"Huh?"

"It's nothing," I quickly lied. "I thought…I saw something, but I didn't."

"Oh." He shrugged.

I thought of our relationship now. Would this one question change it? Will I end up losing him if I asked? Clenching my hands into fists, I scolded myself. He, the most important man in my life – at least, next to my brother – wasn't like that at all. How could I think that way about him?

It made me feel better about my question. I decided that if I didn't ask him now, I would keep on putting it off and would never know the answer.

So I took a deep breath – and took the plunge.

"Hey…Van?"

"What is it?" He perked up. If I hadn't spoken right there and then, he probably would have fallen asleep.

"I want to know…if you could take me…take me to see Helena."