Niveus
By Sailacel Minamino
Nate River hated white.
It was blank, empty, bland…nothingness. Ever since he was three, his parents and everyone around him knew he was smart—a genius, even. And of course, his mother cherished him like any mother would cherish their only child. She would lovingly brush his light brown hair every morning and evening, telling him how pretty a color it was; almost like honey. But he never, ever wanted to wear white if he could help it, and of course his mother never forced him to. Nate was happiest with his mother; he was sure his father must have loved him in his own way…but even at three, Nate could tell his father loved alcohol more. All the arguments his parents had that woke him up late at night…they always apologized later, and then Nate's mother would come into his room and tell him everything was alright. His father, however, would walk out only to stumble in sometime around four in the morning with the scent of alcohol like a choking miasma around him.
Clever as he was, Nate somehow knew—knew, but wouldn't dare accept—what would happen that one day, when two deafening sounds like thunder seemed to shake the entire house. He ran down the hall to his parents' room, clutching his favorite toy robot to his chest as he opened the door.
A puddle of deep crimson was spreading on the floor…the white walls splattered with scarlet droplets. In the center of what Nate knew to be a puddle of blood lay his parents—mother with an expression of shock frozen on her face and a hole in her chest and father with half his head blown out and a gun in his hand.
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The first few days Nate River lived in Wammy's House he spent in his room, working on a jigsaw puzzle. His once honey-colored hair had turned pure white from shock—his clothes entirely colorless to match. Nate knew white was blank—white was the beginning, white meant a clean slate. He rejected his parents' deaths…erased them. They did not exist and they never had. It was almost like a game to Nate; if he admitted his parents had ever existed, he would lose the game and his sanity.
"Hey, River." Nate knew the annoying voice accompanied by the incessant knocking belonged to a young blond boy that had been at the orphanage when he arrived—wearing all black, the exact opposite of Nate's colorless outfit. "You almost finished with that stupid puzzle?!" Nate was silent for a moment—three pieces remained in his hand, all as blank as the rest of the puzzle.
"…Nearly finished."
/owari/