Clara woke to the savoury smell of meat being sizzled on a pan. She slowly opened her sore eyes, still stinging less but still vivid, and recalled what happened. Saving Marie, getting beaten up, being rescued by V.

V...

That's right, she was saved by the rising terrorist. She calmly got up and sat on the bed with her feet touching the cold stone floor. Taking a good look at the room she's in, she saw books towering up until the ceiling, stacked in a marvellous form all around her. She quietly got up from the bed and inspected herself using a nearby mirror. Clara saw that she was wearing a different shirt; her olive green corset gone and her black long sleeve, hooded shirt changed with a simple short white one. Her mask on the end of the bed and her hair was tied into a loose pony tail. She then slowly shuffled out of the room and saw a magnificent sight before her. A room filled with beauties; a majestic grand piano in the middle, a jukebox at one corner and various blacklisted graceful pieces. From controversial renaissance art to beautiful statues carved as if by god himself, all were there. If Clara's face wasn't hurting as much, her jaw would've hit the ground. She walked towards the centre of the room and with her eyes starting to throb even more, she closed them and let her uninjured arm feel her unfamiliar surroundings.

Unaware of how much area the grand piano took, Clara bumped her wounded arm against the edge of the instrument, moving the broken bone slightly which made her cursed out loud and swiftly withered to the ground. But before she could feel the cold marble against her warm tan skin, the familiar clothed arm gently caught her. For a split second she panicked but quickly realised it was only the masked man. Through the stinging sensation of her face, she gave him a timid, shy smile. V could only wonder how someone so graceful in fighting can be so clumsy at the same time.

"Are you aright, Mrs Burr?" he helped her up. Steadying herself whilst using his shoulder as support, she could only mumble a noise out and nod her head. V saw what the problem was.

"Does your face still ache?" he let go of her. She nodded back in return, flashing another smile. "Stay put," he settled her down on the piano chair before walking off to fetch the numbing solution. This time, doubling the dosage. The lady did take a beating after all; a black eye, a busted lip, bruised skin and nose. The man felt pretty bad for her. V walked back to where she was and saw her pressing random keys using her right hand while her head slightly swayed slightly side to side.

What a strange lass…

"Here we are," he already had the medicine ready when he stopped in front of her. Using one free hand, he took hold of her chin and gently applied the liquid on her skin using a clean cotton pad. Clara could only squirm in slight discomfort and grip the edge of the chair around to ease off the stinging feeling. Once done, he put the items aside and helped her up, this time leading her towards the kitchen. Clara felt the pain going away quicker this time and opened one of her eye to see V leading her towards a table that had a bowl of soup ready on one side. He made her sit in front of the dish and he himself sat before her.

She pointed at the soup and then at herself, which he responded with a nod. Clara took the spoon and scooped some of the liquid into her mouth and seeing how her eye sparkled in delight, it seemed that she loved it (which was to V's relief).

"Have you eaten before?" she managed to mutter out.

"Why yes, of course, I do need some sort of energy to resort to survive after all. But have I eaten before you as in recently? Yes, I have. Based on your pleased expression, the dish is up to your standards?" he tilted his head, in need of confirmation.

"Of course! This is delicious! Thank you for the meal…" she was nearly halfway through the soup.

"The pleasure is mine. Do tell, how can such a lady have the talent of such cruelty? Never have I ever seen blades such as yours around, except for mine of course, especially after they have been banned since long ago," he was curious about her. Very curious. While she slept, he took it for himself to find out who this mysterious 'Claramond Burr' was and came up with zero information. Such beauty combined with deadly skills that he also possessed was rare, unnatural even. V looked at the enigmatic woman and saw her nervously shuffling her feet in her seat.

Feeling better physically, she replied, her eyes never meeting his hidden ones,

"Is that what you want? The truth…?"

"I would not have asked if it was not what I seek," he leant forward in interest.

"I'm not sure if it's a good table conversation…"

"Then what is a good table conversation for us then?"

"What's hidden behind that grin is a good one," she replied, her eyes finally meeting his. The tone of her voice changed as if more confidence has embedded itself in them. V knows where this is going.

"What lies behind this everlasting grin is something that will change the course of history. An idea. A vision. A concept that will free our country from the grips of injustice that has gone too far. I am most certain that you will see what I mean as time unravels itself. And you, my dear?" even with the mask, Clara could tell he was grinning.

Heck, he saved my arse…

"Blackwell Rose Orphanage," she simply stated. V stared at her with interest through his mask and she can feel it. "I gather you don't know what it is?" she continued.

"An orphanage. But what for is its purpose in our topic?" he inquired.

"That's where I come from…"

"An orphan?"

"No, I was the main caretaker of two hundred and thirty-eight gifted children," Clara's voice shook slightly when mentioning the word 'children'. V's memory seemed to be pulling him on to something.

"Blackwell Rose Orphanage for gifted talents just a few miles on the outskirts of London. It was burnt down a few years ago. Reports said it was an accident which none of its inhabitants survived. But I did. You know what I think?" the memories from the back of her head threatened to make her cry again.

"What?"

"What they told to the masses was fabricated."

"How so?"

"I saw!" she raised her voice, her fist slammed onto the table which surprises V himself. Before he could react, she continued.

"From my window, I saw what those men did. They stood there, smiling, unsympathetic as ever as my children burn. Children! They had locked our rooms, each of them! None of us could get out, they were all trapped… We were all trapped… My room… My room was fire proof. I had renovated it to suit my experiments so that any explosion or fire can be contained inside the room… I also had a fireproof suit with it… I had to put it on… I had to live to pay back what they did to those children…" tears were running down her face now, dripping onto her pants. No matter how bad it stung her eyes, she let them flow. V could feel her wrath, sadness, despair and other negative emotions radiating off her.

"I could hear them screaming in pain… I heard their agony for hours as I hid in the corner of my room, unable to do anything… I tried to break the door open, I really did. But silly me had to reinforce it with steel years ago and so it was futile…" sobs choked her words and V couldn't help but getting up from his seat to comfort the poor woman. He stood next to her and pulled her close, letting her head rests on his stomach. He had a feeling this was a pent up emotion Clara had buried deep inside. Guilt was starting to rise out of him.

"The thing keeping me safe was preventing me from saving my children… I could hear them screaming for me, screaming how much it hurts and how they were slowly choked and roast to death… Their screams slowly died out one by one and by morning, my sanity was gone. I stood amongst the rubbles and charred bodies of my children. Extraordinary roses with such inexplicable talents wasted… gone in one night because WE WERE DIFFERENT!" she shouted before breaking down completely, hanging on to V as tight as she could.

"They haven't had their chances in life yet, V… it wasn't fair… all those young brilliant kids had their lives robbed because they could think outside the box! Is craving for knowledge illegal? Why should they pay with their lives?" Clara was only able to mutter things out now, her voice sore from the raw emotion she felt as she tried to hold her sobs down. V could only hold her close, the only way he knew how to deal with these situations based on the books he had read. She had vividly shown him how she felt on the night the tragedy happened and it disturbed him more that he thought.

Seeing as the crying lass wouldn't stop soon, he thought sending her off to bed would be best.

"My dear, a heavy burden shall be lifted off your shoulder. Although the tragedy that struck you made what you had become, it shall be avenged. But for now, you to rest. Come, I will escort you back to bed," he gently patted her right shoulder. Even though she did not stop crying, Clara nodded slightly and got up, only to have her legs gave out on her from the grief that was affecting her. She fell to the ground but was caught by V, who then had to carry her back to his room. Laying her head against his chest, her sobs gradually decreased.

Once arrived at the dim room, he gently lowered her onto the bed. Clara had stopped crying but her tears were still idly leaking its way out of her eyes, accompanied by an occasional hiccup. Seeing her this way somehow made him feel despair, something he thought was gone since years ago. She was beaten both physically and emotionally and he wished she didn't have to experience that. Larkhill changed V completely, so different from what he used to be, which he doesn't remember anymore, he had the benefit of leaving vast emotions except for wrath behind. But this woman; aside from being unable to forget what happened, she had to keep it for herself. He realised she brought out the hidden emotions within him. Despair was the first and with her around, he was sure it wouldn't be the last.

He grabbed a few tissue and gently dabbed her tears away. Her hiccups died down and so did the tears. Slowly, V could see that Clara had drifted off to sleep and when he was just about to get up, he felt a light tug on the hem of his shirt. He looked down to see Clara fluttering her sore eyelids, trying to open them.

"Stay… please…" she said.

And so he did. With a soft hush directed at her, he sat next to her sleeping form.

Such a fragile being and yet she defied her orchestrated fate…

Clara laid her hand on top of his gloved ones and finally fell into slumber. After the storm, her sleeping expression gave a sense of calm into the atmosphere and V sat there in comfortable silence, just watching the woman who might change everything.

AN: 1 reviewer, DoomPanda, decided to leave this fic some love and with that, I shall continue the story! Thank you DoomPanda! I actually have the 3rd chapter ready but still not sure if I should use it cause it's a bit... unusual and maybe too ooc? Not sure. Thank you for reading this fic! It means a lot to me :)