Disperazione

A Spamano fic.

Angst/romance.

Human AU, modern world AU (and soon-to-be high school AU).


Since the young age of three, Lovino has been trapped in the allegedly educational system called scuola. And even when he knew of nothing but the simple joys of life then, he has always felt that something was going to go wrong. There was always a tiny anvil in his heart that has kept him worrying, fearing. At first, he thought it would be a shadow in the darkness, or a monstrous teacher who would eat him alive whenever he misbehaved in the scuola dell'infanzia he was enrolled in, or an entity unknown to most but him and it was out to get him for his little misdeeds.

However he kept the bit of optimism in him he constantly got from watching his baby brother and continued to face the days of primary school with his head held high and a look of challenge in his big, dark emerald eyes. Those alone were rare to be seen in the eyes of a youth that had barely even begun to understand the meaning of the word 'reality', but they were there and little to the child's knowledge, they would soon disappear.

At the age of four, his little brother Feliciano began to go to school with him. They are both in different rooms, though they are given a few hours in a day to see and play with each other and many other children in the large playroom or playground. In the few hours he is in his own classroom painting with the rest or just scribbling stick figures, Lovino still finds himself missing his younger brother who now could speak his favorite word, fratello.

So they would play again in the house then eat dinner then sleep. The next day, they'd do the same thing. Go to scuola. Play. Eat. Sleep. And repeat. Life had been as simple as that back then. With their grandfather taking care of them lovingly and caringly, Lovino was very happy. However that little anvil in his heart kept getting heavier and heavier over time. Not suddenly like a sack of tomatoes had been added to the weight, but little by little, like grains of sand slowly adding, slowly piling up in a tiny mound that was slowly growing.

Lovino thought he confirmed the anvil to be his fears when one stormy night, the lightning flashed blinding light through his curtains and thunder deafened him and pulled him from a nightmare. He cried that night. He cried for his brother, cried for his grandfather, cried for his mother and his father whom he was still hoping to meet one day. However in the opposite side of the room, his brother was crying as well. For the comfort of sharing his alarm and warmth, Lovino went to sit next to Feliciano in his tiny bed and tried his best to be a brave big brother for him.

Lovino wiped his tears in the darkness and held his baby brother in his arms, rocking their bodies like how his Nonno Roma did when he was comforting them both or lulling them to sleep, or both. He whispered words of comfort to his fratello and held onto him tighter when another combination of lighting and thunder struck surprise into them. When their Nonno came to their room, he ran to him just as his brother did and held onto his leg tightly as if afraid that he might be taken away by the roaring storm outside.

"Shh…" Their Nonno Roma hushed their cries with gentle hands on their heads and his aging legs bending to give way to his body, lowered so he could be at eye level with them. "Come, come. It's only the storm. Bambini, do you know why it is so loud?"

With that, their beloved Nonno Roma led them to his room and tucked them in, telling them a story about the gods in the heavens having a fierce battle. Of course, to the ears of a four-year-old and a three-year-old, it was an epic. The story was splashed with humor, it effectively had Lovino and Feliciano forgetting about the storm outside, which had then turned to calmer pitter-pattering of rain. And then, they slept peacefully.

More than half a year into Feliciano's first year in primary school, he's become the talk of the town, metaphorically speaking. Teachers keep chatting about a child who seems to be a genius in the arts because of his wise use of art materials and unique sense of creativity. Some teachers disagreed and claim that he is a child genius who will better fit the opera once he's grown; they argued that he has more talent in singing, the theatrical arts, than in painting. One thing is sure though: in the young age of three, Feliciano has already outshone Lovino in all his talented glory and in contrast to all of Lovino's simplicity.

At first, Lovino had been proud of his brother. He proudly kept telling his friends that it was his brother who their teachers were always praising. He proudly told himself that he was brothers with the one even his friends were looking up to. But he could never feel the same pride in knowing that even his grandfather seemed to adore Feliciano like he was supposed to be a being superior to any of them.

Over time, he noticed that his friends turned from looking at him, to looking for Feliciano. His teachers, instead of seeing him whenever he asked to go to the bathroom, watched Feliciano with fond smiles on their faces as his brother did silly baby things. His Nonno Roma, instead of pulling him into his arms and kissing his forehead whenever he went to fetch them from school, only pulled Feliciano up and kissed him. All that was spared for him was a pat on the head, rubbing his hair till it scattered to all directions and stood up. He would pout and fix them. But his grandfather wouldn't laugh anymore at his pout like before. He had already turned his back to Lovino then and was walking away to the car with little Feli in his arms.

Lovino noticed that even at home, things have changed. For whenever Lovino accidentally dropped something, even if it was just a spoon with hot soup on it or an old toy that made too much noise when dropped, he would be reprimanded with gentle words ('take care of your things, you know they're still of value even if they're everyday things', 'you need to be careful next time, Lovino') then he would be sent off. But for whenever Feliciano dropped something, be it breakable or filled with liquid or a now-broken toy or his Nonno's antique watch, he would only be scolded dotingly with even gentler words ('Bambino, good boys are always careful, so always be careful, all right?', 'Little Feli, this is precious to Nonno. You mustn't let it go and drop to the ground, okay?').

When he cried at night because of the nightmares of the world leaving him alone, his Nonno would come to his bed, hush him so Feliciano didn't wake and then sing him to sleep. Then probably kiss his forehead. He would never know. He was already on his way to dreamland then for whenever he felt big, soft lips with the slight stubble around them on his forehead.

But when Feliciano cried, causing also for Lovino to awake, his Nonno would carry his little fratello, rock him to sleep with a lullaby. And even when he was already asleep, he would still continue to hum with, he noticed, a tired but fond smile on his face. Most of the time, it didn't bother Lovino. But after a while, he realized he missed being carried. He missed the strong, warm arms of his Nonno rocking him to sleep, missed smelling the scent of safety his Nonno had for whenever he was close enough, missed the humming that he could hear just right over him instead of across the room. He missed being the child his Nonno doted.

Those were only some of the little things that changed in Lovino's little world. To a child like him, he was affected heavily that even his behavior changed. But instead of throwing tantrums like most children would, he started to keep to himself more often. He ignored the other children who befriended him, all the teachers who would remind him to do his homework, ignored the adults who tried to console him for whenever they noticed that he was being ignored in favor of his perfect little fratello.

Once, he threw a tantrum. He got their attention. But it wasn't the kind of attention he wanted. Instead of fond smiles and praises or apologies, there were scolding, reprimanding words that pounded on his heart. He never threw a tantrum again.

By age ten, Lovino's world had shrunk a whole lot while Feliciano's had grown even bigger. Needless to say, his brother's felicity from his constant interaction with new and old friends kept him contented and lively over the years. He was a flower constantly growing, always blooming under the bright rays of the sun and around the many, but smaller other flowers. Meanwhile, the disappearance of Lovino's acquaintances made him bitter and lonely. He was the tiny remnants of a flower underneath the shade of Feliciano's gigantic leaves and petals, withering and wilting. Though he was still interacting with some friends—who were mostly there because they had nothing better to do or because they thought he was interesting to talk to or because they could relate—there was always a sliver of loneliness that throbbed strongly within him.

Only his brother pulled him from his pool of loneliness. Feliciano usually did it whenever he sensed that Lovino was drowning in his self-imposed solitude. And Lovino was grateful for that. But to him sometimes, even the simple gesture of introducing new friends was like a big rub in the face. He couldn't wait to get to scuola secondaria. He was hoping that at least in his first year there, before his brother could finish scuola primaria, he could build a reputation for himself.

He was wrong.

The anvil inside him just got heavier and bigger then. Now, instead of just grains of fine sand piling up inside it, there were tiny pebbles adding to the sand, making the mound overflow to the sides of the anvil. And the chains that connected that anvil to his heart became a stronger metal, promising an unbreakable bond between Lovino and that really bad feeling that would keep on infinitely growing.


A/N: Okay! Ha! A new story! And this one was on a whim the other night after I was inspired by a true story. I was looking for a good couple to use and Spamano spoke to me most. It entered my mind right away.

This one would delve into Lovino's feelings rather than what's actually happening, like what he's thinking instead of why or how the story swung that way or the other. Yeah, big 'DUH!' I know. Just saying. Sheesh...

Anyways... It's not really edited or proofread since I'm lazy to look for people to do it or wait for my sis to come home (that'll take three and a half hours and I wanna post it now). So if anything's wrong with grammar, spelling, blah blah, let me know so I may correct it.

Oh yeah, let me know what you think (insert colon and a number three).

PS: I totally didn't notice changed again. Now I can't save stories by copying them! Why!? I wanted so much to just copy them to notepad or word and read them on my phone in my free time since I don't always hang in wifi hotspots… Meh. Whatever, I guess.

PPS: Um, if anything's wrong with the Italian words inserted there, that's because I have limited knowledge of the language and I was only using google translate to help me out. Plus wikipedia for how their school lives go in Italy. Let me know if there's any problem with my Italian.