a/n: this was floating around in my head for a while, actually i got the idea around three in the morning but still. my best friend said that maybe the main character was a schytzophrenic, but i dont really know... anyway, please tell me what you think. constructive critizism is welcome, but no flames, please.

this is the boy speaking

"this is belle speaking"

Down by the banks of a creek a small figure could be seen, crouching and staring intently at the water. Her soft blonde hair was bound into two rather adorable pigtails and the small scratches on her face were covered by pink Band-Aids.

Belle sighed. She had been there for the better part of two hours, and her short legs were getting cramped. She debated on going back to her mother and father, but settled on taking a more comfortable position on the damp peat. Despite what her classmates may have said about her, she was a very intelligent little girl and she hadn't missed the pale blurs that appeared every time she looked into her reflection, nor could she ignore the constant, muffled whispering in the back of her mind. But now, she thought crossly, the stupid blur decided not to show up. She thought that the whispering seemed to get slightly amused at the thought, but then again it could have just been her apparently overactive imagination.



No, just a fish. Oh well. She got up to leave, turning her back on the creek. Well, she would have, but a sharp tug in the back of her mind made her freeze.

"Quit it," She whispered fiercely, digging her small fist into her forehead.

Another tug, this time more insistent.

"No," she muttered again, "I said quit it."

And quit it it did. All strange activity in her mind had stopped, including that small voice. Relieved, she dropped her hand back down to her side. Suddenly, she felt the mental equivalent of someone poking her in the head. Hard. The voice came back again, louder now and sounding irritated.

"Hey!" She yelped. "Stop that!" but the mental poking persisted, on and on until…


Fuming, she glared at the water. Then she noticed that, next to her head's reflection, the blur had reappeared.

Stupid blur.

She studied it, trying to see what it was. Two light blue eyes, identical to hers, peered up at her. She gasped as, to her amazement, the blur cleared to reveal a heart-shaped face and a head of tousled blond hair. The person next to her reflection looked eerily like… a male twin of herself. She spun around, looking over her shoulder for someone who, with all right, should have been there.

No one.

She looked back at the face in the water, who grinned.


"Aah!" she started when she heard the person speak, of all things. The voice belonging to the boy was the same one in her head, she was sure.

What? The boy asked, sounding offended. What did I do?

Belle stammered out a barely comprehensible response, before taking a deep, calming breath.

"Who are you? What are you?"

The boy looked thoughtful for a moment.

Hmm. I'm not quite sure how to answer that.

He looked at her, and she could see a sort of sadness in his eyes.

All I can say is that I just am, I guess.

Belle just glared at him.

"What is your name?"

I don't have one.

Well, that was surprising. Belle thought for a moment, trying to imagine what it must be like to go through life nameless, with no identity. She couldn't. But the boy's sorrow had touched her heart, and her gaze softened.

"Can I give you one?"

The boy shifted, looking rather uncomfortable. Finally, he looked up, his face betraying his uncertainty.

If you want… Was the hesitant response.

Belle smiled softly and thought back to the names she knew. There was one she quite liked, one that her teacher mentioned, even if she didn't know what it meant.

"…Lucifer," she said, enjoying the feel of the name.

"Lucifer Morningstar."