Surprise! \(^_^)/
Hearts Day two-shot. It's a little different from what you might expect of pigeonattack, but I'm pretty satisfied, so… Enjoy.~
The title is in the language of l'amour. ;D
Les Amants de laNuit
Part I
"It cannot be good for your health to stare at that screen all day."
The boy with the white hair looked up from his laptop, fingers pausing. "Hm?"
The dark-haired boy leaned back into an adjacent armchair, looking him right in the eye. "I believe you need more stimulus. Statistics show that those who spend four-plus hours on their computers begin to show signs of introvers—"
"I'm fine. And I don't stare at this screen all day."
"Aside from classes and sleep, Otto, you do."
"I appreciate your concern, Wing. I'm fine." Otto returned his gaze to the computer screen, fingers launching into another sequence too rapid for Wing's eyes to follow.
"It is being because the system is depriving him of the pleasures of youth, and he, for all his genius, is too obtuse to be realizing it," a large blonde boy whispered loudly to Wing, coming up behind his chair.
"Thank you, Franz. I realize that." Wing looked in concern at his albino friend. "Speaking of which, wasn't there something you had planned for Nigel—"
"Oh, ja, I almost forgot!" Franz theatrically smacked his forehead, jumping up. "Nigel has been having the same problems as dear Otto, except he's too smart to be stubborn. He knows that I am having his best interest in heart…" Muttering to himself in German, he ran off in the direction of the Block Seven dormitories.
Poor Nigel. Wing was quite certain things would not be pretty for the small, bespectacled boy.
The Nero Academy for Gifted Boys was a renowned school, remotely located in a nameless region of the English countryside. Most of its students were legacies; the rest had been personally sought out by the headmaster himself, and brought to the school by his "assistant" (and though many rumors circulated regarding her true relationship to the headmaster, no one dared say them aloud in front of Raven, due to the odd disappearances of the last few boys who'd dared). Wing himself was somewhat of a legacy, while Otto had been scooped out of a random orphanage in London, and seemed to be the strangest of the motley of boys at the Academy. For one thing, he never gave more than a quick glance to the next, spending the rest of his time languishing before the computer, yet his scores were at the top of the class (except in physicals, at which he was about average).
The Academy was a perfectly lovely environment for learning, and its students consistently performed at the top of the nation, but as with most all-boy boarding schools, particularly those whose strict rules prohibited students from venturing off grounds, there was one glaring problem.
It had to do with the fact that these boys were teenagers. And gifted.
Yes.
In fact, Wing was currently pondering how, like so many before him, he might put those gifts to use to assist his friend.
"Otto."
"Mm."
"Tomorrow is Valentine's Day."
"Yay for hearts and roses and… what else happens? Oh, yeah, pink and hearts and…" he trailed off, reabsorbed in his laptop.
"What is going to happen," Wing explained patiently, feeling a little silly to have to explain such a subject (in which he was far from adequate himself) to his friend, "is that a great many young people our age will exchange tokens of affection, go out, do something fun, and possibly fall in love—"
"…something 'fun'."
Wing blushed. "L-like, you know, see a movie or… or sit at a café…"
"I know what they do on Valentine's Day. I spent ten precious minutes researching it thoroughly the other day. It sounds pointless, frivolous, and utterly absur—"
"This year," Wing continued loudly, "you, for your own good, are going to participate."
"No." Otto said it calmly, flatly. "I am not. That's stupid."
"Listen, Otto, you have been wiling your soul away, staring at that computer screen day and night doing god knows what, wasting your time when you obviously need human interaction that only the other fifty percent of the human race can provide, because anyone would go quickly insane when cooped up without said interaction—"
"What about you?"
Wing paused. "What about me?"
"Are you going quickly insane?" Otto neatly shut his laptop, leaning back and crossing his arms with a featureless expression on his face. It was the first time he'd given Wing— anyone— his full, undivided attention in… weeks. "Or is there something I should be knowing about?"
Wing furrowed his brow. "I myself am not going insane. You must understand, Otto, that there are three types of people in this school."
"There are four, actually."
Wing pursed his lips. "I don't mean streams. I mean… there are three types of people: Those who are steadily drowning from lack of female interaction and bottled up hormones, those who have shut themselves off from the world, and those… those who are so desperate, they take matters into their own hands."
"…like sneaking off at night."
A small smile pulled at Wing's lips. "Perhaps."
"You… you don't say?"
"I do say."
Otto quickly recomposed himself. "Well, I'm definitely in the second group."
"Shutting yourself of is even worse than drowning, in a way. Did you know that most all-boys' and all-girls' schools hold functions where one can mingle with the opposite sex?"
"But some schools don't. Like ours."
Was Otto actually sounding sour about that fact? Wing cautiously went on. "Correct. Girls tend to do better with gender-isolation than boys, for some unfathomable reason—"
"Yeah. Lucky them."
"—but it is not like there is nothing we can do about our isolation."
Otto's eyes slowly widened. "No…" but it was more of a sound of amazement than a negation.
Wing smirked. "Yes."
"What kind of desperate fool would—"
"I was not desperate. I was simply curious. I am sure you would have been as well, had your nose not been in that wad of metal every day for the last few years."
"You…you…." Otto seemed at a lost for words, incredulous, but also impressed.
"Yes." Wing smiled smugly.
"…how often?"
Wing shrugged. "Once a month or so. It is surprisingly easy. In fact, I only once ran into a guard, and do you know what? He just winked and turned the other way! I think they feel a little sorry for us. I mean, they, too, were once teenagers."
"So… are you suggesting that I…"
"Of course."
"But you're the ninja-master-ish one. You're the ones with top scores in P.E., and I'm sure I couldn't scale buildings and slide down waterspouts and such—"
Wing snorted. "How glamorous your notions are. I do no such things. In any case, you yourself are not so hopeless. What say we try tonight?"
Otto looked amazed. "Is this the same Wing I've known for years? Suddenly, you seem a lot more impulsive, risk-taking, into girls…"
Wing shook his head, smiling. "Impulsive is hardly the right word to describe one who plans these excursions all month for a mere three hours of freedom. There are few risks involved, if one plans properly. As for being into girls…" He smirked. "We all have hormones, do we not?"
…
"This… can't be necessary."
Wing glanced over. Otto was scrutinizing the all-black clothing in his backpack, apparently still unhappy with the way it would look on him.
"Technically, we shouldn't even own this stuff."
That was rather true, Wing mused, as he knelt, tying on combat boots, which were part of the P.E. uniform for triathlon and stomping-on-things and whatnot. Their stream's uniforms were black as well, but the color was the only thing their packed outfits had in common with their uniforms.
"How the heck did you get your hands on this?"
"The first time I snuck out, I was in my uniform. Then, I realized that it was a lot nicer to walk around in a different outfit."
"Huh." Otto shrugged, pushed the clothes into the backpack, and zipped it shut. "Um, do you mind if I ask…"
"Go on."
"…you've got something set up, right? I mean, we're not just going to sneak out and then… just kinda hang around waiting for something to happen, right?"
Wing gave him a slightly pitiful look. "Of course not, Otto. I have your entire evening all prepared."
"H-how? I mean, how did you…"
"Prepare it?"
"…yeah."
"I have managed to accumulate contacts throughout my escapades."
"What kind of contacts?"
"Good ones. Well, one in particular, really."
"... How did I never notice this?"
"You should have. You are the genius of the two of us. Unfortunately, the idiot-box was sapping—"
"My computer is not an 'idiot-box'."
"Right. More of an oblivious-socially-unadapt-teen-making-box."
"That's hardly fair." Otto was indignant. "You don't seem especially socially adept yourself."
"At least, not that you know of." Wing finished lacing up his boots, then grinned at Otto. "Well? Are you going to go freshen up? This evening will see your first date."
Otto crinkled his nose. "Ugh, if you're expecting me to anoint myself with product or something, then no. I'm not a girl."
Wing frowned. "Hey, watch what you say. Not all girls are like that."
Otto scoffed. "You'd know."
Wing raised his eyebrows, slinging his own backpack onto his shoulder. "Actually, I would. Lock the door from the outside with that computer-meld thing of yours on the way out, would you?"
At least until they reached the dining hall, the walk to the dining hall was uneventful. Although he'd long since memorized the patrol schedule by heart, Wing stopped them every so often to check around the corner. Wing was, as Otto had so accurately described, quite a ninja, silently padding down dimly lit corridors. Otto wasn't so bad himself, since this stealth was a bit of a requirement when one regularly snuck out at night to break into Professor Pike's storage room.
Unfortunately, they weren't they only frequent nighttime wanderers.
"畜生," Wing muttered, as they paused outside the mess hall.
"What?" Otto whispered. Living with Wing had forced him to learn the meaning of that Japanese phrase long ago. "What's wrong?"
"Franz."
"Ohhh…" Otto frowned. "You think he'll notice us?"
"Possibly." Pursing his lips, Wing crept forward past the doorway, Otto following quietly behind.
Franz spun around, terror on his face. "Scheiße! Please, I am so sorry, I will not be doing this again I was just being so huuungry— Oh, it is being you lot!" He visibly relaxed, then tensed again. He continued in a markedly quieter volume. "Oh, I was being rather loud, ja? Ahaha…. Sorry about that…"
Wing nodded. "It is okay. Please keep it down, though. See you around, Franz."
"Have fun!" Franz whisper-yelled, turning back to the fridge behind the counter. After a moment though, he whirled back around. "Say… what is Otto doing with you? Oh, is he finally seeing the light? Herzlichen glückwunsch, Otto! I thought you would never be coming around!"
"Yeah," replied Otto. "But we'd better get going if we want to keep on schedule. See ya."
"Ja, have a great time!"
After that, there were no mishaps.
Wing quickly bypassed the lock leading to the rooftop garden, and they stepped through into the mildly chilly night. "Ready?"
"I guess." Otto grinned crookedly.
A moment later, they were grapplering down the side of the building with "borrowed" equipment from P.E.
Francisco probably wouldn't be tickled pink to see them using his precious toys.
Then again, he might.
As Wing felt the pleasant rush of the night air on his cheeks, an omen of a good night to come, he couldn't help but grin… and maybe play a little harmless James Bond music in his head.
…
Wing pulled out a cell phone the moment they landed. Otto stared at him flabbergastedly. "Now, where the hell did you get that?"
"Hm? Oh, that contact." He helped Otto stow their equipment, then started dialing a number.
"That mysterious contact. What else has he done for you?"
"She," Wing corrected.
"'She' what?"
"The 'mysterious contact' is not male."
"What? She's female?"
"And she would have just called you a sexist pig."
"If you think about it, it's not that hard to arrange for a cell phone and a cool evening, so I'm not impressed."
"Hello? Shel—… what? Oh, yes, we are ready." Pause. "A motorcycle?" Pause. "No, I have never… No, just because you can in no way guarantees that I can—" Pause. Otto stepped closer, intrigued, but all he could make out was rapid-fire chatter on the other end. "…all right. As long as it can get us there in one piece… a bar? Shelby, we are underage! I—" Pause. Wing frowned. "Oh, one of your friends? I am not sure how I fell about intruding at this hour… Oh. I see. Well, then, you can meet us—"
A loud roar and blinding light split through the still nighttime air, and both boys took an involuntary jump backwards.
"How 'bout now?"
A laugh, as Wing and Otto slowly unshielded their eyes. The accent was distinctly American, and belonged to the distinctly feminine figure on the motorbike. Long blond hair was tied into a ponytail under her helmet, and her arms were crossed. She had a very satisfied look on her face. Otto couldn't help but notice with a grin Wing's expression.
"Let's hit the town, boys. It's time to party!"
To be continued…
畜生 = Damn it. (Japanese)
Scheiße! = Shit! (German)
Herzlichen glückwunsch = Congratulations (German)