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Cake, Cards, Chocolate, and Cigarettes
Chance Encounter
Another cough. The tunnel here sure is stuffy. Didn't anyone ever bother cleaning out the hallway here? After all, there was a mass of computer equipment here and every once in a while ('a while' being once a year or so), he would see the wires of the room rearranged. Sometimes the equipment would be upgraded and turned on. Of course, he would never really see anything happen. He assumed the changes went on while he was in class. Better for whoever it was who lived in this space anyways.
It wasn't his space, but for the time being, he liked to think of it that way. Nothing indicated any sort of life being present in the area for the last half year, other than the occasional insect that found its way into the more than humble abode. The wires and bland-looking bed were gathering dust now, so today he had brought a bottle of water and a half-empty roll of paper towels with him. Even if no one lived in this place anymore, he could at least clean it up for all the other times he would be coming back. A hideout like this wasn't something you'd just find and drop. It also wasn't something he could share with just anyone. He mentioned it to his best friend once, but when he'd denied the other boy entrance, the blond had lost all interest. 'What good is a hideout if you 're hiding by yourself' he'd replied nonchalantly, biting into another bar of chocolate. It had never been brought up again.
He wriggled the last half of his body out of the crawl space, coughing slightly as he landed. The cool wooden floors thudded against his body as gravity pulled his rear and the shiny dead tree planks together. Strange, his eyes weren't tearing up like they normally did when the dust lifted off the ground and into his eyes and his red hair.
Wait. Said dust was missing. The room had been cleaned.
He scrambled up from his sprawled position on the floor to see a strange man in his twenties with raven-black hair and obsidian eyes. A white long-sleeved shirt and baggy, worn jeans: simple attire for a simple man? But this guy could not have been a simple man. This was a secret room that only he knew about.
Kind of. That would mean the equipment in this room belonged to this bland-looking stranger. Who was he and why was he suddenly here? Only individuals carrying a special, unmarked key card could gain access to the grounds. It was difficult enough to obtain a card and to get through the security checkpoint along with a retina scan to even enter the House was a nightmare, especially if you were an adult. That electric fence was meant to keep the intruders out. For some special cases, it was meant to keep the children in. But no one in his or her right mind would voluntarily leave this place. The interior was too comfortable to be left. The playing grounds themselves stretched at a maximum of two miles in every direction and had courts for nearly every sport available in its lush fields.
It was a Sunday and that meant most of the kids at the House were playing outside and the adults were watching them. Few children stayed indoors on Sundays, seeing how the older they got, the less time they had to spend with Mother Nature. It was the House rules. You hit twelve and you're required to pick a specialty. Most kids' special talents had already begun to blossom at that age. Once you're fourteen, it's finalized and you start learning the ropes. He'd started learning the ropes. Well, more like codes. Technology was his thing.
Reaching the end of the tunnel, he sat down at the entrance to the room and began unlacing his shoes. Although it was unnecessary to wear shoes around the House, people generally did until they were going outside. He hated the feeling of shoes constricting his feet, but he loved playing outside too much with Mello to ever complain.
"Who might you be?"
His back stiffened when he heard the voice address him. It was surprisingly kind with a hint of boredom in its undertone. Afraid to look up from his position on the floor, he was unsure of what to do. Why hadn't he tried to get away? Oh wait. He couldn't. This was a secret chamber behind the Northern clock tower. If he screamed, no one would hear him. It was pointless.
"I-I'm... a st-student here," he stammered, the urge to flee increasing with each passing moment.
Daring a glance up provided him with a clear view of the older man. Eyes: the window to the soul. Those always caught his attention on every person he'd ever met. This man's tired, panda-like eyes were probably a by-product of insomnia. Those long, slender fingers looked like they belonged to the hands of a pianist. That might explain the electric keyboard hooked up to the computer.
His gaze dropped quickly and he resumed staring at the floor in silence.
"Wise answer."
He heard a chuckle from the man across the room and the shifting of settling sheets in the bed. The slight creaking of the wooden floorboards made it safe to assume that the man had had seated himself on the mattress.
Who is this guy? And why is he here? What the hell is going on? Augh, idiot, you know what's going on. He lives in this space, even though it's been empty for half a year now with no clues about the lifestyle or personality of the former inhabitant, too, other than the computers here and the wires. I can't even hack the computers here... Do I smell strawberries and cake?!
"I did not recall this mattress to be quite so comfortable," he heard from the direction of the stranger, the voice putting his thoughts on mute. "May I ask why you are here?"
"I c-came to clean," he explained, hastily pulling the paper towel roll and water bottle from his small backpack, displaying them and the rest of the contents of his bag to the older man.
Obviously, the water bottle and towels were already out in the open, but inside the bag were his usual gaming accessories, three slightly smashed granola bars, a handful of peppermints, and a handmade pillow for his rear when he sat on the wooden floor. Did he say he thought of this place as his earlier? No, he meant that it was his secret, not his living space. He didn't dare to tamper with the things in this room. He'd seen enough from his video game plot lines to know that flicking random switches and sporadically pulling wires usually ended badly.
The mysterious man merely nodded and smiled, bringing his knees to his chest and resting his hands atop them. He noticed the stranger's feet were bare and quite clean looking. He shifted his eyes around the room, flitting his line of vision around quickly as he searched for shoes. There were none, but the was a small basin of what looked like water that had been heated on a scientific heating plate/pan thing (his blond bestie knew more about that scientific mumbo-jumbo than he did). A gray rag was draped along the edge of the metal bowl and was accompanied by bar of soap precariously balanced there. A set of three towels was inconspicuously set atop a low table-thing in the adjacent corner.
"Do you come here often?"
"Y-yeah, I suppose... most of the night on Saturdays and all morning Sunday..."
And whenever he's studying in the Library and doesn't want to be bothered... Heh. I just told the guy I skip my some of my classes. Will I get in trouble for this? Well, whatever. They're just review anyway. And why is my voice shaking so badly? I'm never this nervous...
A soft rhythmic thud sounded long the floor. The stranger was taking steps toward him. His heart leapt to his throat in panic, but he swallowed the rising dread and set a look of perfect calm on his face. The steps stopped and he saw the man's toes from his peripheral vision, jean-clothed knees bending as the stranger was lowered to his level. He pointed at a black, rectangular cartridge that had slipped out of his game pack.
"May I?"
The redhead simply nodded, not seeing how this man could possibly harm his games. He relaxed a bit as he watched the childish smile spread across the stranger's face as he inspected the game cartridge. Recognition flickered in the older man's eyes.
"Hmm... 'Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones' is an excellent choice. I see you like strategy games. Have you tried playing Ephraim's Story on Hard Mode yet?"
A fresh grin spread across his face. Almost no one had heard of this game before and here was a perfect stranger he had met on the other side of the entry room crawl space tunnel asking him about Fire Emblem! Did he just die and go to his own personal Gamer Heaven? If so, God was a Panda Man. God was a ******** panda.
"No, I'm working on my third run-through of Eirika's Story on Hard More right now," he grinned, "I'm trying to unlock as many supports as possible before I try Ephraim's on Hard Mode. Chapter eleven was a b***h with the fog and everything in the way... That was chapter eleven, right?"
He could feel the bubbles of excitement in his chest as he watched the other man part his lips to respond. Vague thoughts fluttered in the back of his mind, simultaneously demanding why he wasn't trying to run away from the black-haired man. He shoved those insecurities inside a glass jar and into a dark box in the back of his mind.
"I cannot recall specifics. It has been far too long since I have played Eirika's Story. Ephraim's much more enjoyable to me. Eirika's character is too static and flat for my taste."
"Static and flat? I guess I'm not the only one who thinks that she's boring. Seriously, a guy can only take so much whining and worrying before he wants to bash her face in and switch to Ephraim's story. Too bad you can't kill her off... seriously, other units dies and the game's like 'oh, look at that. He kicked the bucket... oh well!' and just continues. But then your main Lord dies and it's just like 'blah, you epic fail at life and we're sending you back to the beginning of the chapter, ********! Oh, by the way, this death is being recorded against you on the game, so your ranking is now Y, because you're too much of a retard to be able to fail to Z ranking. See? You even suck at failing-' "
Suddenly he cut himself off. Did he just go on a gamer-rant in front of a total stranger? Well, s**t.
"That is a rather well-argued point, but for someone on their third run through of Eirika's Hard Mode, I would imagine that you would not allow such needless deaths to occur... your game?" he ended with a question, holding out the cartridge between pinched fingers.
Man, this guy's sharp.
His attention turned on full blast and he took the plastic rectangle from the stranger and pulled open his Gameboy SP. Silver and decorated with vine-like sharpie designs. He liked the way the shine looked, but the decoration was what made the console his. With the little albino boy's stalker artist girl around all the time, he had finally decided to warm up to her and asked her if she'd mind decorating his SP. Of course, his bestie had nearly blown a gasket when he found out who had decorated the hand held, but that wasn't so important. The swirling vines and leaves done with fine-point sharpie would be worth a lot one day. Not that he'd sell it. Heh. Sweatdrop.
"Yeah, I lent the game to my best friend. He thought the characters were dispensable, the idiot..."
A grin formed upon his lips at the memory of the blond suddenly jumping up from his bed and screaming, 'what the ********, where'd all my units go?!' It had been adorable, to say the least. But he wouldn't have told the blond that he found the response cute. That would be suicidal.
"Your best friend?" the stranger asked, biting his thumbnail in a contemplative fashion.
"Yeah," he sighed, "Mr. Chocolate and Flames."
Panda Man raised an inquisitorial eyebrow. Amusement perhaps?
"Interesting nickname."
"Yeah, it suits him though," he chirped, grinning from ear to ear, "he's completely addicted to chocolate and fire, obviously. It's ridiculous how he obsesses over the small things too, always studying to beat albino boy and all."
At the mention of another name, an inquisitorial look crossed the stranger's face.
" 'Albino boy?' "
"White hair, white shirt, white pants, white skin... the White One. Top kid here," the redhead supplied casually, "don't you know? I mean, you are in the House right now, so I'd assume... wait a sec! Who the ******** are you?!"
It was generally understood that anyone who visited the grounds of he House was someone of high importance who could be trusted. The redhead was unsure if the usual feelings of safety could apply when he met a stranger in the House grounds inside a secret room.
I've been talking to this guy for a little over half an hour now and I don't know who the heck he is. I can just see it on the news: 'Gamer boy's body found dead in room past the hidden crawlspace.' Lovely. Stranger Danger programs aren't worth s**t if they can't help me now. For all I know, he could be some mass murderer or child rapist. Or worse. A newb.
He stopped and chuckled, the last of his thoughts alleviating his fears. There was no way a guy could just get into the House. That was simply unheard of.
"Children your age should not be using that kind of language."
The redhead crossed his arms and huffed over to the bed, plopping down beside the stranger and shoving the game cartridge into the silver SP. He flicked the switch in the lower right-hand side of the handheld. The screen instantly brightened to life, the word "GAMEBOY" popping onto the screen in a rainbow that quickly flashed to dark blue. The volume switch had been bumped to full blast, a clear C ringing in his ears as the opening tune sang its last note through the tiny speaker(1).
"You didn't answer my question."
"My identity must remain a secret for safety purposes. It is up to you whether or not you would like to tell me who you are. Besides, you seem to be a smart child, so I am sure you will figure out exactly who it is you have been speaking with eventually."
Cryptic messages didn't sit well with him, but choosing to ignore the comment was the best course of action. He didn't usually like doing this, but in the long run, he'd come to appreciate his choice of reaction.
"Ok, well whatever," he sighed, turning the game's noise level off to conserve battery power, "I have other questions. Do you wanna answer those?"
"My willingness to answer depends on the question, but feel free to ask me anything."
He tapped away at the SP, eyebrows furrowing in concentration.
Who goes into this chapter? Have to recruit Syrene, so... Ephraim? No, wait, could Eirika can recruit Syrene too, right? Maybe it's only Ephraim... But Tana said she learned how to be a Peg Knight from Syrene, so maybe Tana can... Gah! Screw that, I'm bringing Eph. I need that last Support with Tana anyway. Eww... hetero couples. Eww... hetero sex!
He chuckled immaturely, licking his lips. A few moments passed as he readied his game by tapping away at the black buttons. The stranger leaned over his shoulder and cocked his head toward the gamer's. He could feel the hot breath on his neck.
"Are you going to ask me a question or shall I sit here and watch Marissa beat those four enemy units in four hits? Oh, and you should not place Artur in that position. He cannot cross streams."
"I have Artur there because I'm healing Marissa this turn. Ross will be taking his place soon," he sighed, "anyways, first question: what are you doing here?"
Out of his peripheral vision, he watched Panda Man turn his face toward the ceiling, left thumbnail being nibbled by his teeth while his face suddenly was void of curiosity in the handheld game. Well, void of anything really. His expression was neutral.
After fiddling with the blanket that was folded up at the foot of the bed, the man reached toward the box on the table and lifted the lid. The smell of strawberries assaulted his nostrils. Was that chocolate, too? Mr. Chocolates and Flames would've liked that. From the box, the stranger lifted a single decorative slice of cake and set it on a small plate that must have been lifted out of the small cabinet in the far corner of the room. With pinched fingers, the man carefully picked the clear plastic wrapping from the edge of the cake and folded it neatly. The decorative gold lines glimmered and the white crème on the slice looked like pool water solidified from the light that filtered through the single stained glass window. Chartres blue. Almost. He'd seen pictures of the Gothic cathedral in the library when albino boy's stalker had followed him there to study old French architecture. For a young artist, that girl sure was an avid learner.
"This is my hiding spot for when I want to get away for extended periods of time," Panda Man explained.
"From what?"
"Work."
"Work," he repeated, "that's very specific."
"Work," the stranger stated again, not wanting to share more information, "would you like some cake?"
"Well, I suppose you may be able to extract more information from me eventually. For now, if you may ask me of anything pertaining to personal matters, my lips are sealed."
The redhead frowned and turned off his game. Good thing Fire Emblem had the auto save feature.
The stranger set the plate holding second slice of cake on the table, leaving it in front of the redhead. From somewhere within the box, he produced a two miniature plastic utensils. One was set beside the second cake and the other was put into good use as the Panda Man began picking away at his cake. A single strawberry was set aside gently with the tiny plastic fork, unpunctured. Either the man didn't want to eat it or he was saving it for last. Gamer boy decided he would stick around to see.
"So I'm supposed to just sit here with a complete stranger who wants to remain a complete stranger?"
Panda Man stopped picking at his cake and raised an eyebrow.
"You could leave."
"No, I think I'll take the cake," he answered, picking up the small plastic utensil.
Just as he was about to try out the cake (but not before considering that it might be drugged), he stiffened. He turned to Panda Man and began to watch him eat. He could feel the stranger's dark eyes watching him. Somehow, it was no longer uncomfortable to be here.
"Hey, I have my next question for you."
Panda Man looked up from his slice.
"Yes?"
The redhead gave him a questioning look and held up the tiny white plastic utensil in his hand.
"Why am I eating cake with a mini spork?"
"Because..." Panda Man trailed, biting his thumbnail once more and looking toward the ceiling, "sporks build character."
"What?" he felt his head physically twitch back in surprise, "how?"
"You have to learn how to use a hybrid utensil and by the process of doing that teaches you what kind of person you are. Do you reject or welcome new things or do you like trying to solve a traditional puzzle with a new and unconventional method?," he drawled, finally tacking on with a wide grin, "and most important of all... you get to use a mini spork because I did not have anything else to offer to you. Consider this a gift from me, for in a sense, I am helping you build character."
Panda Man had held a serious expression through the entire explanation when a carefree smile suddenly sprung about his lips. The redhead took a deep breath and broke out into a wide, uncontainable grin. Panda Man had a strange sense of humor and logic. He was really beginning to like this guy.
- -
The sun was gone now, but neither of them had noticed. Unrippling blue no longer washed over the two figures sitting on the bed. One had his knees pulled to his chest, the other was perched in a unique position that seemed awkwardly comfortable. The room itself had been tidied up a bit more, mostly by the redhead who had gotten permission to touch the machinery that was inside the room. The smaller bottle of water he had carried into the room had been put to good use. The paper towels had been disposed of in the wastebasket by the fridge. As if it would make him seem less useful, Panda Man took it upon himself to take care of the cake box by storing it inside the small refrigerator adjacent to the entrance of the room. Well, some help was better than none. The teen had only cared about the dust.
"Now that we're done cleaning, mind if you tell me more about yourself?"
"My apologies, but my lips shall remained sealed."
The redhead sighed. Time and time again, he had tried asking the man about himself, but no question ever warranted his desired response. However, he found that in just simple, casual conversation (as opposed to the question and answer session he had started a couple hours ago) Panda Man was more willing to give information about himself. He had resolved to simply talk to the man, but that didn't stop the direct questions. He wasn't much of a talker, but he could rise to the occasion when it was necessary.
Normally, his conversations with others were ones of caution. He took care with the words he chose when he was with his peers and his teachers. Language became more lax when he was with strangers or adults other then his teachers at the House. That didn't happen often, but when he was away from the House, the brighter than average citizen was charmed away by his aloof personality while the arrogant were shocked and appalled into silent anger. Actually, most people only reacted with silent anger. Idiots didn't understand.
Rambling in my thoughts again and I'm supposed to be speaking with Panda here.
"Well, whatever," he continued, scratching his head and laying down on the mattress with his arms spread out to his sides, "I'm tired, so let's just talk."
"What would you like to converse about?"
The redhead rolled over onto his side and grabbed the a** pillow he'd brought with him, hugging it close to his chest. No, it didn't smell like a**. 'a** pillow' meant that he just sat on in a lot. You would too if the wooden floors of a hidden room gave you back problems and a** bruises.
"Do you have any questions for me?" he asked the stranger, absentmindedly nibbling his bottom lip and fiddling with the hem of his striped, black and gray shirt.
He had a thing for striped shirts, alright? He had a white and black one, a black and red one, a red and white one, a gray and red one, this gray and black one, a gray and white one... Okay, he liked those four colors. So what? It wasn't so bad when he layered it under one of his vests or sleeveless jacket things. Yeah. Fashion wasn't really his thing.
He watched Panda look at the ceiling once more while and chewed his thumbnail for the umpteenth time in the last three hours.
It's like a Panda Stance, he thought, chuckling silently, Panda Man has a Panda Stance.
"Would you like to tell me about your friends?"
Those baggy eyes met his once more and his thoughts hesitated.
Huffing, sighing, and turning once more, images of his blond bestie popped into his head. Maybe it was time he shared a bit about his personal life with this guy. Maybe that would get Panda to finally open up to him.
"I mostly have only one 'friend,' " the redhead began, "his name is Near. Completely obsessed with puzzles and toys."
"What does he look like?"
Interest was evident in his voice. The redhead supposed that the interest sprouted from being such a recluse. Panda didn't seem to get out much, if the pale skin and awkward mannerisms were any indication. An idiot could have picked up that much... ok, maybe not. He'd met some pretty stupid people out there before.
"He's the top kid here. The white, pajama-like clothes and the matching hair. He likes curling his hair allot with his right hand when he's doing his puzzles and usually pulls it to the point where it looks like it's been done by a girl. He actually has naturally straight, but slightly wavy hair. I told you about already, didn't I?"
"Yes, but that description was before we had become comfortable with one another's presence, therefore regathering this information could be crucial," the stranger explained. "Although you spoke of him in an affectionate manner, Near is not the best friend you mentioned earlier. The boy who liked chocolates is. Would you like to tell me about your real best friend?" Panda asked, cocking his head to the side.
This guy isn't normal. Most people think Near's my best friend when I describe him like that. Of course, I wasn't counting on him actually remembering what I said earlier, but... This man can read people. He can remember small rambling details from a teenager and he's definitely smarter than normal.
"Well... alright," he confirmed, "Near's only my friend. Actually, you could kinda consider him to be my only friend."
"Would your best friend happen to be the blond you mentioned earlier?"
"Yes," the redhead murmured, "but my best friend actually can't really be considered my 'best friend.' He's something... different."
His eyes widened with shock. What had possessed him to say those words? Swearing to himself that he'd never tell a single soul about the feelings he had for his best friend when he came to terms that with the fact that his growing attraction to the blond was more than just teenage hormones certainly held up well. He had never imagined even telling someone about the way he felt about the chocolate-lover. Fingertips at his lips silenced him long enough to feel his eyes begin to water, but stopped the feeling before it scared him too much to think.
" 'Different,' you say?"
"Y-yes..." he stammered, losing all the cocky self-confidence he had gathered the few hours previous.
"What kind of different?"
Interest colored Panda Man's entire being.
"He's more important than a friend to me. More... special."
He blushed slightly when he saw the knowing look seep through Panda's features. The man nodded and turned his gaze back to the ceiling.
"So what is he like?"
The redhead grinned, kicking up his feet from his laying position of the bed and swinging his body to sit upright. He rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together. Should he tell Panda his bestie's name? Hesitating wasn't doing him any good.
Whatever. It's okay if he knows. It's always easier to tell a complete stranger about your problems anyway.
"His name is Mello," the redhead said, taking in a deep breath, "and he's my best friend."
"Go on?"
The encouraging look in the stranger's eyes made him soften. This one would listen.
"Well, to start with, he's got blond hair down to his chin. It's so soft and silky and looks kind of like liquid gold... I jokingly messed it up it once when we were still just starting as friends," he laughed, "Mello just swatted my hand away. His scowls are always so cute... Of course, he doesn't really care now," he grinned, "I'm the only one Mello lets touch his hair.
"Anyways, he's always wearing black, kinda opposite of Near. He hates Near, too, for being so smart. Personally, I think they're both equal, but he doesn't like seeing it that way. He thinks that being number two just isn't good enough. I wish I could do something for him, but he's too headstrong to let me. He's got this strong sense of honor, so he won't ever hurt Near in any way. It's admirable... and still kinda cute somehow."
He smiled softly and closed his eyes.
"He always smells like chocolate too. I love it. When we take our trip to the streets every two months, he always buys a bunch of chocolate while I buy games. I don't know how he keeps from getting fat, but I swear all the sugar he consumes could feed ten other kids for the same amount of time. All I buy are peppermints and I'm still careful with how many I eat.
"He's cute when I sneak up on him from behind. Like when I get to hug him across his shoulders and snuggle into his hair... I don't know how he does it, but he smells like chocolate mixed with... something. It's kind of sweet and almost floral, but still kinda boyish at the same time... I just really love the way he smells, I guess."
He stretched back out onto the bed and curled up sideways, holding the pillow to him as if it were Mello. Panda just turned toward him and smiled.
"Do you know if he likes you?" the stranger asked.
He could feel his eyes sadden.
"No," he frowned, "I'm sure Mello's straight. I mean... well, he's probably asexual at best. He's always in the library, studying up to beat Near and all. Sometimes, when I'm right in front of him, I don't think he even sees me."
He let himself sigh loudly, feeling the air push out of his chest deeply and his throat tighten slightly. Pure sugar assaulted his nostrils with every filtered breath he took from the pillow. It was sweet, but nothing like Mello. Panda must eat alot of sugar.
The stranger said nothing as he leaned back and fell against the wall, breaking his Panda Stance for the first time in hours. The man grabbed the second pillow on the bed and looked to the lamp he had turned on, lips down turned to match the redhead's hidden ones.
"I do not like artificial light."
"What?" the redhead asked, his face not leaving the pillow.
"I do not like artificial light. Technology is useful, but I much rather prefer candlelight at night. It is much more soothing and generally enjoyable to me."
Ripples of movement traveled through the mattress as the teen felt Panda get up off the bed. There was the hollow sound of a plastic-bottomed, wooden drawer sliding open and the gamer realized Panda was looking for candles and a lighter. The lighter was found quickly and slipped into his right pocket. Three votives (orange, cream, and white respectively) were soon selected and pulled out from the drawer along with three identical spherical candleholders. Panda man held the three glass holders in his left hand and three candles in his right and shut the drawer with his elbow. Shuffling quickly to the table beside the bed, he set the candles down and proceeded to unwrap them from their plastic. A fruit and vanilla medley scent filled the room even before the candles were lit. It was pleasant, but slightly overwhelming.
The teen smiled when he realized that Panda had taken out the candles to distract him. For someone he'd only known for a mere six hours, Panda sure was welcoming.
Six hours was really a long time, but the gamer blocked out the fact that he had been gone way past bed time. The House was pretty lax about where the kids slept, as long as the late-night rooms visits were kept strictly single-gendered. Homosexuality didn't exactly cross their minds when they made the rules. Of course, the real thing they were trying to avoid was pregnancy. Experimenting during the teen years was normal and most teachers chose to ignore it. At the House, the intelligence of various teachers was often paired with tolerance or straight up indifference.
He watched Panda flick the lighter open, letting the small, clear in the center flame touch to the wicks of the three votives.
"Do you mind if I turned off the lights?"
"No."
He settled into the bed, burying the right half of his face into the pillow while watching the candles with his left eye. The wax of each candle melted quickly, pooling around the wick in clear, colored bubble of beauty. Panda joined him on the bed, leaning his body against the wall and pulling his legs to his chest. He divided his attention between the melting candles and watching the stranger curl and uncurl his toes in the bed sheets. Eventually, he settled for just watching the candle burn. Watching liquid wax slowly dripping down the sides of the solid block really did have a calming effect.
"That is a mango scented candle on the left. The middle and last ones are peach and vanilla respectively," Panda informed him.
"It smells good," he murmured and yawned.
Luxurious rest tempted his body with a soft, warm bed, but he didn't want to fall asleep here with a complete (okay, not so complete) stranger as his only company. There was always the risk of getting molested in the dead of the night. Eww.
He tried stifling the second yawn, but found it difficult and succumbed to the drowsy airflow in his throat. His eyes scrunched shut, tickling slightly in the corners by his temples. Opening them proved to be a problem, as having his eyes shut for a slightly extended period of time already took a toll on his energy levels. Glowing orange shadows danced and flickered slightly in the room as the tiny but bright flames swallowed up more oxygen from the air.
"Are you tired?"
"N-" he tried to protest as his response was suddenly interrupted by a yawn, "hn... okay, yeah, I'm tired."
He heard the rustle of bed sheets as Panda pulled the folded blanket from the foot of the bed and draped it across the gamer's lithe body.
"Just sleep here tonight."
"But..." he yawned again, "I have class tomorrow and... I can't sleep with a stranger..."
Suddenly, Panda Man laughed a bright, quiet laugh that almost shot the redhead awake. From the blurry vision of his nearly shut eyes, he saw the stranger walk toward the opening in the wall and lowered his head.
"Do not fret. I have chronic insomnia and can go days without sleeping. I shall take care of your lessons tomorrow."
Can he even do that? Not unless he's got significant influence here, he won't be able to do s**t.
But before the redhead could protest, the stranger had already ducked into the passageway and left the room.
- -
He awoke without a ruckus or a start, simply tossing twice before getting his bearings. Mango, peaches, and vanilla still lingered in the air of the somewhat large room. Although he had thought it to be small earlier, the room was actually quite spacious once it was cleaned out. He tossed in his bed, turning away from the wall to face the room itself. The three candles from last night had burned out, the wicks missing from the clear glass bulbs that had housed them for the night. Rings from the wax lingered on the inside of the glass dried overnight and was waiting to be washed.
The redhead sat up and rubbed his eyes. His body was sore from the mattress, because although it was significantly more comfortable than his own, adjusting to this new plush comfort actually took a physical toll on his body.
What time is it? he glanced to the clock and did a double take Holy ********, it's almost noon! I have morning class on Saturday... s**t. s**t, s**t, s**t, s**t, s**t s**t shitshitshit...
"... s**t, s**t shitshitshitshit..."
Dizzy swirling filled his head as he sat up too quickly. Unable to hold his own weight, he collapsed back onto the bed with an 'oomph'.
Screw that, it's probably over already anyway.
He rolled over in bed again, but this time felt the dipping warmth of the mattress as he realized there was someone sitting by his feet. Well, more like perching. The man gave him an inquisitorial look that simply spoke 'why must you use such language?'
Instead, Panda greeted him with, "Good morning. Would you like breakfast?"
The redhead simply stared at the man.
"Don't you mean lunch? It's almost twelve."
Or we could just say 'brunch,' came the afterthought.
As if right on cue, Panda offered, "may we compromise with brunch?"
The redhead chuckled.
There we go. And I thought strangers weren't supposed to be this predictable.
Although the assortment of fresh fruit on the table was tempting (especially those cherries), he needed to refuse. Saturday morning classes were the most important part of his schooling. At age thirteen, he was one year into his specialized training. The YDEs would be harder this year. He'd probably have to hack into a security system designed by a former student this year. Or maybe write some algorithm with a function specified by his mentor. The YDEs weren't always tests. Sometimes, they were projects.
"I don't think I can do that," he protested, "I mean, my morning class is already over and that focuses on my specialty. There are no make-ups for that class and I'm pretty sure everyone's freaking out about a missing student now, too..."
He frowned and got up out of bed. Seriously, if he set that expression on his face any more, he'd get wrinkle lines like his teachers before anyone knew what the hell was going on.
"Do not fret. I have already asked Roger to excuse you from your class. Simply take this note to him."
Panda held out a slip of paper for him and he took it with hesitant fingers and proceeded to slip it to the right pocket of his white, hooded, no-sleeve, vest-jacket... thing. For everyone's sanity, let's just call it a jacket and leave it at that.
"But that's not just something I can make up any day of the week... I'll fall behind. We were on a tight schedule and I..."
I don't typically like my classes, but I actually like my Saturday class. s**t. I'm gonna be so off schedule, I might not pass the YDEs.
The 'YDEs,' as some children liked to call them, were Yearly Diagnostic Exams. Pretty much a test every inhabitant in the House had to take with a general knowledge portion and an individualized section that judges what skill level you were at and the progress you made in your chosen field of expertise. With his Saturday class being so intensive, the redhead wanted to catch every bit of information there was available to him. If there was one thing he knew in the world, it was gaming, and part of that was hacking and coding. He loved it.
"I," the man cleared his throat, "will be personally teaching you during your make-up lesson. Consider me your substitute teacher or make-up teacher for the time being. Now, Roger is waiting for you in his office. He requested that you meet with him before join the other children for lunch so that he may advise you on how to conduct yourself regarding meeting me. Also, when is the next time you will be able to come here and see me?"
The redhead simply stared at the stranger, unable to form any coherent words. Panda was going to teach him? He didn't even know who Panda was, but it was almost as if...
Intelligent, able to get into the House, knows about the House layout, has connections here, is familiar with the House's workings... actually, has influence here. He's... Oh my God. This must be him.
His eyes visibly widened at the realization and his mouth clamped shut upon itself. He was in the presence of greatness. Panda Man was god. The God of the House. Panda House? Maybe this place could be called Panda House now? But, actually now that he thought about it, this guy's eyes could also look like raccoon's eyes. Maybe if people were allowed to meet him, then there would be a Panda versus Raccoon war? It'd be like Ninjas versus Pirates, but way cooler.
Because Panda God kicks Ninja a**.
Now the nagging urge to run away had completely dissipated. This was him. This was the 'ruler of the House.'
"I'll be back tomorrow morning."
"Not tonight?" Panda asked, tapping his right index finger against his lower lip, a smile neatly spread smile upon those thin lips. He rested his finger tip on his chin and gazed toward the boy.
"No... I, uh..." he blushed, the volume of his voice lowering progressively in embarrassment as he spoke, "I just wanna hang out with Mello all of tonight. Is that okay?"
Hey, I can't help that I'm a teenage boy...
"Naturally," the older man replied. He then turned his attention toward the assortment of fruit at the table.
Panda chuckled and crouched on the floor, picking at the bowl of fruit. He picked a cherry and popped the whole thing into his mouth. The gamer watched him with some interest as the he could see Panda moving his tongue around in his mouth. A mere four seconds later, a knot of two cherry stems was on the tip of his tongue. He pinched the brown-green stems between his fingers and placed them on a napkin on the table before him. His face lit with a childish satisfaction.
"Would you like some of these cherries? They're quite sweet already without sugar or whipped cream."
The redhead nodded and joined the man on the floor, crossing his legs and shoving his fists into his lap, his knuckles popping against the wooden floor. He leaned against the table so that the middle of his chest lay against the light wooden table's edge.
"Alright then," he grinned, "I love black cherries."
- -
"Thanks," the redhead smiled as he sat on the bed, packing his belonging back into the backpack he'd brought with him the day before. "I guess I'll be heading down now. I'll see you tomorrow morning?"
He man stood beside the entryway, back slouched and hands in his pockets and nodded. He handed the redhead the folded note that had sat on his low, white table with the pinched fingers Panda Hold.
"Do not forget to deliver this to Roger. I shall see you again soon. Careful on the steps down."
"Yeah, I will be," he nodded as he entered the hallway-tunnel.
He began to crawl forward, but suddenly turned around to poke his head back into the room. Even the hallway-tunnel was dust-free now. Panda must have cleaned it out last night. Should he be leaving like this? Maybe it would be unfair to Panda if he didn't at least say something about his realization. With a new side-goal in mind, he turned around and began to backtrack into the hidden clocktower room. He peeked past the edge of the arch above his head and looked directly at the man perched beside the table in the middle of eating another piece of honeydew.
"Yes?" Panda asked, the corners of his lips pulling upwards as he looked at the redhead.
"I forgot to say something important," he grinned back, looking the man straight in the eyes. "Bye, L."
The raven-haired man smiled and closed his eyes, shaking his head in satisfaction. Part of him almost seemed like he had wanted the redhead to figure it out, to find out by himself.
Just as his back was facing the detective and he began to leave the room once more, L spoke. the words were clear and not too overbearing or loud. They simply gave the redhead a feeling of satisfaction.
"Goodbye, Mail Jeevas."
The gamer turned to the detective and gave him a sloppy grin.
"Please," he laughed, stopping just long enough to shoot the detective the less severe friendly smile he'd pulled from the grin, "Just call me Matt." (2)
- -
He crawled out of the space behind the front room's couch, tumbling out onto the floor. All of the children in the House would be eating at this time of the day. He'd have no problem getting around to Roger's office without being seen. A nagging in the pit of his stomach warned him against bumping into anyone at the House right now.
He made the his way toward the hallway directly outside the room. Roger's office was adjacent to the entrance of the House and the Library. Taking off his shoes and slipping them into his bag, he turned the corner and walked silently into the hall. The cold wooden floors chilled the soles of his feet through his thin, gray and black striped socks, urging him to slide by the door faster. Cold metal met his palm as he grasped the swinging gold handle of the office door and he gently pulled it open.
"Ah, Matt, I was expecting you," a man with a receding white hairline beckoned to him from behind a cherry wood desk.
"Yes, sir," he replied stiffly.
It was true that he was more informal around strangers, but this was Roger. He was in charge of the House for the time being and was respected for his position.
"Do you have the letter?"
"Yeah," he replied, "here it is, sir."
He handed the folded sheet of paper to the head of the orphanage. Roger suddenly leaned forward and touched Matt's hand and flipped it so that his palm was facing upward. After giving him a satisfactory nod, the man put the redhead's hands down and sat back into his seat.
"Yes, thank you, Matt. I do believe you've passed."
"Passed, sir? What do you mean?"
"Ahh, well last night the man you were staying with suggested that he give you think letter that has a hard to wash off blue residue that stains the fingers of the person who comes into contact with it. Had you opened this letter, your hands would be dyed blue. He simply wanted to test your trustworthiness. It seems as though you've passed the first round."
"Hah," he laughed to himself quietly. "Of course he'd do that."
Roger eyed him suspiciously, "Matt, did you say something?"
"No, sir," he replied with an amused smile on his face, "simply expressing how classic his plan was to test my loyalty."
"Alright, then. I suppose I'll tell you what you truly came here for. Once you meet the other children for lunch, I'd like to recommend that you tell them you were in the medical ward all night because of a slight food poisoning."
"Food poisoning? What from?"
This is the House. No one gets food poisoning here. I bet Panda only told him to make up a story for why I wasn't there last night. Hah. Roger probably came up with it on his own.
Roger sighed.
"I suppose you may say you were in the medical wing from a bacteria that you had picked up from the nearby woods gave you small, one-night issue, if that seems to be more convenient for you." He clasped his hands before him and rested them on the desk, elbows just hanging off the edge of the table. "You may join the others now. You should go to your room first to put all of your belongings down. You're dismissed."
"Yeah, alright. Thanks."
He nodded his head respectfully and proceeded to back out of the room. but not before Roger suddenly perked up his head to say, "I do believe you know explicitly that you're not to tell anyone of meeting this man?"
"Of course, sir." He nodded again.
Roger was a good man, but sometimes Matt couldn't stand how blatantly and unthinkingly the man followed his orders from the higher ups. Everyone at the orphanage knew about the man being employed by the great L, but they were usually too reserved to speak up. Not that Matt would. What kind of good would a rash action like that do?
"Alright then. Welcome back, Matt."
"Thanks, sir."
And with that, he slipped out into the hallway and proceeded to walk toward the kitchen to his immediate right.
The first floor of the House was mostly rectangular in size with two somewhat larger rooms facing the front side of the House. Because of the front entry room and the Nurse's Office, two rectangular shaped bumps jutted out from the flat front side of the white building. Other than those two extensions, the main floor was generally in the shape of a blown up four by nine rectangle. The back of the building, had you been standing facing south, was three times taller than the front. That was because the childrens' living quarters were in the second and third floors of the building. Because the ground-level floor was in the shape of a rectangle, the top floors were pretty much a set of blown up four by six rectangles.
The general layout of both floors was a set up of five rooms of equal space on each floor. To the north, there was a window that looked out just past the balcony above the section of the House that wasn't being used to build other floors and onto the front playing field. Oh this balcony stood the northern clock tower, the place where L was currently residing. The eastern side of the floor held both the staircase, three bedrooms, and a small closet with everything from first aid kits to extra toilet paper, towels and soap. The western side of the living quarters held four identical rooms, each built for two people.
Although the third and second floors of the House each had seven rooms where two roommates could stay, the opposite side of the wall with the window had only a slightly bigger room that could house three people instead of two. Inside was a giant an identical window that faced toward the two-mile stretch of grassland and cleared dirt spaces surrounded by a fence of tall evergreens where you could watch both the sunrise and the sunset. Altogether, there was enough space for seventeen males to stay in the House, but because of the number of children there, the biggest room was empty and Mello roomed alone.
What would have been open space in the center of the boy's dorm was a showering room and a restroom each with two doors placed in such a way so that there was a perfect three foot wide hallway all around the area(3).
Downstairs, Matt had slipped out of Roger's Office, taking an immediate turn towards the kitchen and dining area until he Crawling along the path along the dark wooden floorboards, Matt made his way toward the stairs at the other end of this half of the ground floor. He took them two at a time, grateful that he didn't run into a single person on his way up. As he stepped off the fourth flight of stairs and onto the third floor, he stumbled on the last step and fell forward onto the carpeted flooring of the boy's third floor dorm. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a pair of feet covered in black socks before him. Shaking his head, he looked up too quickly, little white dust-speck like lights danced in his vision, decorating the image of the owner of the black socks. Groggy blinks were the only action he could muster for the three seconds before he recognized the boy before him.
He had nearly tripped into his 'best friend'.
Oh s**t. He's gonna want to know where I've been since last night...
"Hey, Matt!" the blond greeted him as he helped the redhead onto his feet. "I went to your room last night and all I saw was Near. Where have you been?"
And there it is.
Matt took a deep breath, and looked up at the boy before him. Those clear green eyes stared directly at his, sending chills up his spine. His thoughts turned to something of a more... inappropriate and indecent nature. Before it became a problem, he changed this thoughts and shook his head again, a minor headache forming in his temples. He hated it when this happened and especially during inopportune moments.
"Uhh..." he trailed, attempting to regain his posture, "I, uhm, I got food poisoning and spent the night at the Nurse's Office."
Matt winced. He didn't like lying to people, and definitely not Mello.
The chocolate addict glared at the redhead from beneath his bangs. The older boy crossed his arms and rested all of his weight onto his right foot, his hip jutting out slightly and exposing a small line of pale white torso between the black cloth of his low riding pants and smooth, black longsleeve shirt.
"I went to the Nurse's Office," the blond stated, his mouth setting into a hard line, "she said you weren't there."
"Oh." He scratched the back of his head. "Well, I... I, uhh..."
[********]
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(1) Yeah, the ending note of the power on tune on an SP is a perfect C a couple octaves higher than middle C. I tested it out on my piano! Haha... the curse of the choir girl and her need to know the notes!
(2) Did anyone notice that I never used the characters' names in the narration until a character in the story named them specifically?
(3) I drew out the floorplan of the House on the backs of some of my rough drafts, so if anyone's confused about the way it looks, I could probably post it on my deviantArt account if needed.
 minikimii · Sat Jan 10, 2009 @ 05:32pm · 0 Comments |
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