Recepient: allaroundgamerkay
Themes: Romance/Fluff, Fluff, Family, Supernatural/Mystery
Themes Unwilling to Receive: Crack Fic
Content you are uninterested in receiving: Incest is a no go.
Characters or content Preferred to Receive: I would love a story with both Gene and Naru
She is not even pretty.
I told her that to her face once. It was sort of an accident. The words had come out of my mouth before I realised I'd done it. It didn't go down well. Her best friend slapped me. No teachers saw it happen.
Wouldn't matter if they had.
I'm difficult.
And apparently if you're difficult, other people are allowed to bully you. The adults just sigh.
Now I just keep my mouth shut.
My mother reckons that's why I have no friends. Well, she's not my real mother. My real mother died when I was eight from alcohol poisoning. My real father left after that. I was adopted by my current parents a few months later.
Some say I ought to be grateful for the fact I was adopted by such nice people.
I guess my mother is right though. It's hard to make friends when you don't talk to people. But I have a habit of saying exactly the wrong thing. Apparently. It's not my fault other people interpret my words wrong.
Eugh.
I close my book and shove it in my school bag. When I look up, she's still standing on the other side of the library, talking animatedly to the grumpy old librarian, Mr Jenkins.
He's smiling at her. Even he likes her.
Everyone likes her.
Even if she isn't that pretty.
Everyone likes her…
Yes, I guess that does include me. But that doesn't change anything.
It's home time.
I leave the library and head for the school gates, I don't get too far before someone calls my name.
"Oliver!"
I slow my walk but don't stop. Why does she want to speak to me?
She probably wants something.
"Oi!" she whines. And a hand grabs my arm. She swings around so she's standing in front of me. I stop walking.
"Yes?" I ask, eyebrow raised.
"You know it's rude to ignore people."
I roll my eyes.
"It's rude to grab hold of people without their consent," I fire back and she releases my arm immediately.
"Sorry, you're right."
I step around her and continue walking.
"I wanted to ask you something," she blurts, as she half runs beside me. My legs are much longer than hers.
"Of course you do," I mutter, low enough that she doesn't hear.
"I was wondering if you wanted to walk home together…?"
"Why would I walk home with you?"
"Because I live this way too now."
I can see her beaming at me out of the corner of my eye. I sigh pointedly, stop walking — again — and turn to face Mai.
"Look, we don't really know each other. I think suddenly walking home together is a bit weird."
I expected her face to fall, but it does not. She continues to smile at me.
"Yeah, we don't know each other. But if we walk to and from school together, then we could get to know each other. And then it won't be weird any more."
"Why would you want to do that?"
She rolls her eyes at me now.
"Because otherwise, we're going to walk like ten feet apart without talking, and I think that's weirder," she says. "Besides, you insulted me that one time, so I think you owe me."
"My mother would insist I owe you an apology," I reply. "But I owe you nothing more."
"Please?" she whines again.
I sigh heavily.
"Fine."
She grins. We start walking.
"So you do Physics right?" she asks.
I nod.
"I've got a mock exam for Physics next week. It's all on electromagnetism and I hate it," she complains.
"Hmm."
"But at least it's not as bad as English. We've just started poetry and it's just ridiculous."
"Hmm."
"Like, I really don't think the writers meant all of the stuff that the teachers make us come up with. You know? Like, sometimes, the curtains are just fucking blue."
"Hmm." I suppose I ought to do something other than just hum in response. "How do you know? Have you ever written any poetry? Other than for school, that is?"
Her smile widens at the question. Then she presses a finger to her lips as she thinks about it.
"No. I've written some stories, but never poetry. Maybe I should try it…"
"You write stories?"
"Uh huh, I'll tell you about them as long as you promise not to be dismissive."
"I will promise no such thing," I mutter.
She scowls.
"Fine, laugh at me then. I write fanfiction."
I try to contain my smirk. I could have guessed that she would say that. She seems like the type somehow.
"For what?"
"Huh?"
"Fanfiction for what?" I ask.
"Akatsuki no Yona."
"What?"
"It's a manga. And an anime," she says, looking away. "After my Mum died, in the care home, one of the people that worked there suggested I watch it. So I did. And I liked it. But the new chapters aren't coming out fast enough for my liking so…"
We cross the road. The streets are becoming more residential now and there are fewer cars about.
"But if I've put in something about the colour of the curtains," Mai goes on. "It's because they're just that colour."
"So you don't use words deliberately because of the imagery they invoke?"
"Well sometimes. But the colour of the curtains doesn't change if the character's mood changes. It's not like because they're sad, suddenly the curtains are blue."
"My curtains are blue."
She laughs.
"And is that because you're sad?"
"No. My mother picked them."
"I think I could have guessed— Ooh! Look, a penny!"
She bends over suddenly and pops back up holding a dull penny. She licks her thumb and rubs the coin a bit. It stays dull.
"See a penny, pick it up, all day long you have good luck," Mai sings.
"That's nonsense."
"Maybe, but I think you're just jealous of my good luck."
She meant it as a joke, but she might have a point. She is lucky; she has friends.
Perhaps she sees something of this one my face as she frowns. I look away.
We continue to walk, but now in silence. This is my curse. I do the wrong thing and conversation dies. I did not react as I should have done to her statement and now I have made it awkward.
Oh well.
She will not ask to walk with me again. I try to ignore the pang of disappointment in my chest. Not that I cared.
"I have to go this way now," she says suddenly, pointing down a different street to the way I have to go. "I'll see you soon."
"Yeah…"
I walk off, there's no point attempting further niceties. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out earphones and push them into my ears. I plug the other end into my phone and set off the audiobook I had been listening to earlier in the day.
When I arrive home, Luella greets me. She smiles and kisses my cheek. I hand her my empty lunchbox as she natters away. I still have my earphones in, but I can lip read well enough to know that dinner will be in an hour and we're having chicken.
I head up the stairs to my bedroom. The Davis household has three bedrooms, mine is the closest to the stairs. My parents' bedroom is furthest from the stairs, but it does have its own ensuite. The other bedroom is currently being used as Luella's home office. She's a private therapist.
They had planned to convert the garage into a proper room and have that to save her clients traipsing through the house, but they had never got around to it. I suspect she will retire before they do…
I pull off my tie, shut my bedroom door and change into pyjamas before taking a seat at my desk. I sit cross-legged and pull out my homework. I decide to start with Maths.
An hour later, I hear my name called for dinner. Dutifully, I put my pen down and close my exercise book.
My parents are already at the table when I arrive in the dining room. My mother is carving the chicken and my father is piling carrots and peas onto his plate. I help myself to mash.
"Breast or leg?" Luella asks.
"Leg," I reply, holding back a snide remark. I always pick a drumstick over breast meat when possible. Yet still she asks. You would think after nine years that she would be used to my ways.
We eat in relative silence. Luella occasionally tries to start conversation, but on the whole, we're quiet. At the end of the meal, I put my plate in the dishwasher and pass back through the dining room.
"Do you want to do the wishbone with me?" Luella asks.
I frown.
"Why would I want to do that?"
She sighs.
"For fun."
"What is fun about touching a greasy bone and breaking it in half?" I ask.
"You can make a wish… Never mind." She forces a smile. I've upset her. "Have you got a lot of homework?"
"Yes."
"Okay, well you get on with that then."
I leave the dining room. I don't know why she is upset. It's not like the wish would come true. As if I have anything to wish for anyway.
Looking at it logically, I have a roof over my head, enough food to eat and a good education. My body is reasonably healthy. What else could I want?
A friend.
The thought fires through my brain like a bullet, searing at my very core. And just like a bullet, it is hard to ignore.
A friend.
Yes, a friend would be nice. A friend that understands me and knows me and looks out for me. A friend that… I don't know.
A friend that likes me for me I guess.
Rather than because I can tell them the homework answers.
Pushing the thoughts aside, I open up my exercise book and start working again.
Night rolls in and the clock strikes ten thirty; time for bed.
I pack my bag for the following day and stand up to close my curtains. As I look out of the window, the trees sway in the breeze and something catches my eye.
It's a star. I can't tell which one as the trees and surrounding houses block the remainder of the constellation if there was one. Luella's voice floats back to me, "You can make a wish," and a stupid hope builds in my chest.
And it is stupid.
Wishes don't work. This star, that I am now staring at, is just a giant ball of hydrogen and helium that is billions of miles away. It's not conscious. It can't change anything about my life.
And yet…
I am a scientist, at heart. I have no personal evidence that wishes do not work. I have never made one. At least, not in memory. I am sure I wished for many things when with my real parents or when in the orphanage. But I can't remember those.
"I wish I had a friend," I whisper.
I wrench the curtains shut, turn off the light and climb into bed. A pang of loneliness settles in my chest. I close my eyes and will sleep to wash over me.
BEEP BEEP BEE—
I swipe the alarm on my phone and it shuts up. Groaning, I roll out of bed and stumble towards the bathroom. I pee, brush my teeth and shower on autopilot. My brain has not quite woken up yet.
It doesn't need to be though. Once dressed, I head to the kitchen for a cup of tea.
"Is your brother up?"
The words take a long time to filter through my brain.
"I don't have a brother," I mumble.
Luella sighs.
"Have you two fallen out again?"
I frown. Who is she talking about? I pull my phone from my pocket. It is not the first of April.
I decide to ignore Luella and concentrate on my tea.
"I'll wake him up myself then."
Out of the corner of my eye, I see her bustle from the kitchen. I finish my tea, pick up my lunchbox and return to my room.
I walk up the stairs, barely even thinking about what I'm doing when my feet come to a stop. I blink. I blink again.
"What?"
My eyes refuse to believe what they are seeing.
Maybe there is a mirror at the top of the stairs.
But he's walking towards me. He? What am I thinking? Is it even real?
I step back into nothingness.
Author's note: So this piece is ~8 chapters and going to be released over the course of the exchange weekend! Please review :)