If I can\'t see you.. You can\'t see me

I huff as my alarm goes off… can’t I just sleep in for one morning without having to deal with everyone else? My hands rub my face to chase away what traces of sleep I can. I’m too tired to get out of bed quietly and swing down, bouncing lightly on Blondie’s bed before slipping onto the floor and walking to the bathroom. My feet slap across the wooden flooring and I shiver when I walk into the cooler bathroom, turning the water to lukewarm waiting for it to heat up somewhat. Goosebumps raise across my arms and chest as I pull off my clothes and drop them on the floor in one mass.

The steam is starting to lap across the bathroom and cling to the mirror, slowly making my reflection fade away. I almost like the idea. Disappearing, I have to admit- it is rather appealing. I realize that I’ve lost myself in my thoughts when the whole bathroom is clouded in the mist.

As I step in every muscle tenses then slowly relaxes as it’s met with the warm spray cascading over every inch of my body. I’m generally not one for taking forever and a half in the bathroom but I do enjoy the brief facade of peace. A few moments later I watch the lather from my shampoo swirling around the drain, followed by my body wash. It has a faint scent that gently clings to my skin but nothing that will stick out; I want to blend as much as possible.

Fully clothed I step out of the bathroom to find that my roommate is up already, “Great, the second early riser.” I murmur dejectedly.

He rolls his eyes at me and there seems to be an underlying glare, before I can think too much into it he’s getting dressed in the middle of the room.

“Shit, give me a warning next time!”

“Could you keep the profanity down?”

“Why in God’s name should I?” I scoff, a shirt connecting with my face a moment later, “You know. If you’ve got anger issues, don’t take them out on me.”

“Don’t say that.” He says, pain dripping off his words.

“Come off it, learn to toughen up or kids around here will eat you up when they find that you’ll lose it if they point out your flaws.”

“Don’t say his name in vain!” He shouts, fists clenched in ire at his sides.

“Huh? GOD!? Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me. A religious nutcase? No wonder I thought you were fucked up. Let me guess, Christian. Do you know your catechisms perfect little boy?” I snort as I finish, shaking my head and walking out the door. Man, didn’t I just win the lottery.

“Shit.” I curse seconds later, glaring back towards the door and letting out an angry huff, I left my gameboy. And my books.

“God damn it.”

I walk back into the room quietly, and the kid’s kneeling in front of his bed, hugging a necklace and speaking in a foreign tongue. Whatever. I grab my shit as quickly as I can, jumping when I feel a hand on my shoulder. “Look, leave me alone and I’ll... try not to say anything about your beliefs or something.” The latter part is added on at the last second, the first thing I can think of.

“It’s not that. I… what’s your name?”

“Matt.” An automatic response, I normally wouldn’t have given it to him but it’s too late to rescind my answer now.

“You’re the second one, aren’t you?” He asks.

“What on Earth are you talking about?”

“You know… the list, the scoring. You’re the second best?”

“Sure yeah, I don’t know. Why should I care? As long as I’m in the top three I get extra money for more games.”

“What’s special about the top three?”

“It’s a Wammy thing, you won’t get it until you’ve been here longer.”

“I’m going to be the top student.” He sure sounds confident.

“Knock yourself out…?” I pause when I realize I don’t actually know Blondie’s name. No big deal.

“Mello. That’s the name they gave me anyways. Why do we have to change our names? I liked Mihael.”

“You’re not supposed to give out your real name idiot.”

“What’s your real name?”

“Mail.” Why did I tell him? “Anyways, I’m going to get breakfast, I hate the crowded cafeteria.” Sure, let’s just tell Blondie everything, want to know my shoe size? Where I was born? My top three video games?

He looks like he’s about to offer to come with me until my gaze hardens and he turns away. I sigh and shake my head, angrily snagging my stuff off my desk and walking to the kitchen. Cereal is always dependable but instead I make two sandwiches, eating the first and saving the second for lunch. I’ve got plenty of time and all the classes should still be empty, peeking inside my first period I confirm my suspicion and smile while walking to my usual seat in the back.

The door opens and I look up, thinking classes are about to start and wondering how long I’ve been playing.

“Oh, it’s just you.” Mello says.

I roll my eyes at him, who else is up this early? He takes a seat near the front and I relax, not realizing that I’d tensed up. His pencil is scribbling furiously and he’s taking a bite out of chocolate every now and again. He’s going to run out…

Classes start and I manage to get through the day, the teachers not saying anything about my absence. It’s not the first time I’ve skipped and as long as my grades are high they can’t complain.
While walking to my room I hear someone speed up to pull alongside and slow down as they get in pace with me. It’s Mello. “What do you want?”

“We don’t have classes tomorrow.”

“And? I’m going to be playing my video games.”

“Is that all you do?”

“Generally.”

“I’m sure it sounds kind of stupid... but would you mind exploring with me?”

I snicker at his question but find myself shrugging, “Sure, why the hell not?”

“Great! I mean, cool.” He’s beaming and I shy away from him to put more distance between us.

“I don’t need a friend.”

He shrugs, “Neither do I, but you’re interesting.”

“How?”

“You just are.”

“Hm.” I grunt, wincing as I realize that I let myself be attacked without defending, “Damn it.”

“Would you mind leaving that thing in the room?”

“Fine.” I do mind, but why the hell shouldn’t I humor him?
We stop by the room to drop off our stuff and hit the kitchen to grab food before dinner, he doesn’t question why I don’t eat with everyone else. Wandering outside we eat and trod into the woods on the far side of Wammy’s. Everyone else is playing southeast of us and we don’t have to worry about running into other people this way so it’s quiet.

The shade of the trees is cool, calm, and inviting. A soft breeze blows through and rustles the outer and upper foliage, unable to reach very far. Tripping, I land on my hands and knees, a kick to my shoulder knocking me over onto my back. I glare up at Mello and he sneers back at me. Shit. Don’t judge a book by its cover Matt.

He yanks me back up by my hair and I punch him in the gut, smirking as he doubles over slightly to grasp his stomach.

“Bastard.” I growl at him, getting a sharp blow in the jaw that makes my chin and teeth ache while almost forcing me to bite my own tongue.

“I wasn’t sure if I wanted to just push your uppity good for nothing gaming ass down the stairs or find another spot to teach you where you stand. I guess it’s a good thing I let you decide, this is much more satisfying. Do you really enjoy games that much Matty? Let’s see how much you like this one, let’s see if you’ll mock my beliefs again.”

My gaze is hard on him, I hate the sick blonde bastard so much right now. I curse myself for not taking any of the self-defense or fighting classes. If I had I could simply kick the shit out of his sorry ass and be done with it. We go on like this, exchanging blows and harsh words until we both have cuts and bruises. One of us should have left by now but we’re both too stubborn and prideful.
Rain starts to drizzle through the trees snapping me out of it. He really isn’t worth my time. With that, I turn on my heel, bolting back to the school and managing to remain out of his grasp though he’s right behind me.

We’re tearing through hallways and up stairs, him practically breathing on my neck the entire time - but I’ve got more stamina and manage to pull away eventually. Now that I’ve got time to check the damage I realize how sore I am. My left eye feels like it’s never going to open again and my leg aches when I put too much weight on it. My clothes are still soaked and I start to shiver in the air conditioning. I can only hope that he’s still looking for me as I make my way to the room, grabbing my valuable electronics including my gameboy, iPod, and laptop. I change my clothes and sling my laptop case over my shoulder then head to the game room.

Plenty of other kids are in the room and quite a few of them inspect me as I go sit down in the corner and pull out my laptop. He doesn’t show up and I’m perfectly content to sleep on the couch in here, pretending that I simply dozed off while playing my gameboy.

It’s Saturday morning and I wake up to a warm blanket on top of me, the blinds drawn closed and only a few other children in the room, respectfully quiet for me and the others that are still sleeping. I yawn while sitting up, grimacing as my face pulls taut and one of my cuts reopens. I grab my games and head down to the infirmary so that the worst can be taken care of.

The doctor that serves as the nurse for Wammy’s is plump and middle aged. She fusses over me for a while, trying to pry out details while cleaning everything and chastising me for not having come here sooner. A cold compress is pressed against my eye to help bring down the swelling. I’m forced to lie down and pull out my gameboy. Thirty minutes or so later she comes back and checks on my eye, grunting in disproval and replacing it before wandering off.

It takes another hour before she decides that my eye is as good as it’s going to get. It can open a tiny crack but everything is blurry and the room spins when I try to focus with it. One more scolding for being irresponsible and I’m sent on my way. The only place I can think to return to is the game room where I spend the rest of the day, venturing up to the room at around midnight. As suspected Mello is asleep, but he’s tangled in the bed, a sweaty sheen to his skin and constant murmurings passing through his lips.

On a closer inspection I press my hand to his forehead to find that he has a fever, “Selfish bastard. You deserve it.” I hiss, setting my stuff down and finding an extra blanket to drape over him, tucking him in so he won’t be able to squirm out of his sheets. Walking into the bathroom I grab a glass of water to set on the nightstand, a Tylenol to place next to it and a wet washcloth that I run over his neck before resting it on his face. He’s still sweating but shivers lightly at the cool touch.

Two fever hazed eyes slit open to stare at me, “Mami, ich haette auf dich hoeren sollen. Es tut mir leid dass ich im Regen gespielt habe, ich wollte Vater nicht boese machen.” Mommy, I should have listened to you. I’m sorry that I played in the rain, I don’t want to make Father mad.

I cock my head to the side, only understanding that he was trying to address his mom. Poor kid. Realizing that I’m feeling sorry for the asshole I crawl up into my bed and fall asleep, letting him ramble on as I doze off.

"Feuer, Feuer. Wasser, schnell. Mami verlass mich nicht!" Fire, fire! Water, quick. Mommy, don’t leave me!
The scream jolts me awake and I scramble down to check on him, glancing at the clock to find that it’s nearly 6 in the morning. He’s burning up more than earlier and I decide that he won’t be able to sleep this off. I scoop him up in the blankets, relieved that he’s a lot smaller than me, and carry him back to the infirmary. The doctor starts to give me hell when she sees me but stops as she notices Mello in my arms. I expect her to take him from me but instead I have to set him on the bed while she takes his temperature then runs; grabbing alcohol and yanking the sheet from him to start pouring the liquid over his neck and chest, dumping some in her hand to spread it over his face.

He’s screaming unintelligibly, writhing on the bed and trying to pull away from the nurse. I pin him down and scowl at the scent of the alcohol that’s quickly evaporating from his skin even as it’s being reapplied. I feel nauseous but the nurse stops after a while, taking his temperature again and sighing, making me move him to a dry bed and pulling his clothes from him before wrapping him in clean sheets.

"Mami. Es tut mit Leid, ich sollte dich beschützt haben. Vater ist ein bastard." Mommy, I’m sorry, I should have protected you. Father is a bastard.

“Schh, mein kleiner. Alles wird gut.” Shhh, my little one. Everything’ll be fine.

“Mami.. Ich liebe dich. Es tut mir leid.” Mommy, I love you. I’m sorry. Mello repeated as the doctor stroked his face.

“What language...?” I ask, my throat dry, words scratching my throat.

“Deutsch.” She replies, a slight accent marring her words that I didn’t notice before.

“He’s German?”