The Truth in Broken Mirrors
One Winged Shinigami
Pairing: 1x2x1
Warnings: Mental Penetration (worse than an AP Physics test,) NCS, insanity, violence, eventual lemony things that I will warn you about
Rating: NC-17
Notes: I was going to enter this one for the Novella Contest but I feel that I'd rather post this in increments. I hope everyone likes it. I might take a while to update eventually because I'm stupidly attempting Nanowrimo this year and am going to be tearing my hair out. Luckily my story for it sort of correlates with this one so that I will almost be able to cut and paste some parts. I love feedback, anything besides flames without proper reason to back it up will be gladly accepted. Excuse the typos but I lack a Beta Reader as always.
The Truth in Broken Mirrors
Do you remember
yesterday?
Do you remember what I was like down?
I feel that
madness come my way
I must drink to the vicious clowns.
I
don't know if they found your ears
But I used to have a lot of
names.
Then one so tender pushed me here
And I watched as they
fade away.
Again
I wake up on the tiles
And it's like I was never gone.
Then
just before the pain comes on
Remember this is where I started
from...
The emotions were swirling about him in a whirlwind of chaos. Old. Painful. Spreading like viruses, imbedding themselves so deep beneath the skin that no surgery could ever remove them. The tumors of disarray within his body stuck in his throat, causing every breath to be in pain. He gave an involuntary shudder. Then the voice came whispering of things that were warm and right, and, at the same time, screaming of all the wrongs.
if you are lost in your way
deep in an awesome story
don't be in doubt and stray
cling to your lonesome folly
Singing to him through walls, something in this place was calling to him, stirring something within himself that he never knew he possessed. The boy lifted his head, the curtain of hair causing distortion and comfort.
now you're too close to the pain
let all the rain go further
come back and kiss me in vain
mother oh do not bother
Eyes squeezed shut, trying desperately to get rid of the voice that had penetrated his brain. Echoing about his mind he suddenly could feel the distant sound of a heartbeat. It couldn't be…couldn't be his could it? No, it was too loud, and it was growing still. Thundering with such earsplitting vigor it made the room throb. Gradually he could hear his own heart beat, pumping out the nectar of life to a steady beat. A steady beat that the boy realized was slowly becoming one with the deafening pulse ricocheting about him. His eyes flew open wide in fear and the song continued.
hear the chorus of pain
taking you back to proper ways
it's so easy to find
if you could remind me
He shook his head, "No, no, no, get away! Get out! You're not aloud in! Stop it, go away!" His screams became hysterical cries of mortal fear. Moreover, it became very apparent, all of a sudden, that his hands were sticky. Trembling hands raised themselves in front of his face, the boy took a glance at them, whimpering and shutting his eyes in denial. Taking calming breaths he slowly let his eyes crack open, peering down. Blood covered the monstrosities, dripping in steady streams through his finger and into his lap. It was fresh and warm, seeming almost unnaturally crimson in color. 'What…how?'
now you are lost in your way
deep in an awesome story
so I will find you again
kiss you for lonesome folly
Taking huge gulps of air, he raised his head, letting the curtain of chestnut fall away to peer. Everything was red, so red. A tomblike silence was all that remained; everyone was gone. Why was everyone dead?! He slowly stared back down at his hands, squeezing his eyes shut to block out the continuous whispers. Tears leaked out of the corners of the lids as a chilling cry ripped through his throat and escaped into the night.
The phone's shrill ring echoed throughout the deathly silence that had occupied my office moments before…once, twice, I picked it up on the third, "Yuy here."
"We're bringing him up, are you ready?" A gruff male voice demanded.
I had to let out a sigh; we had been through this before. Not everyone is a complete idiot, just most people. "I am perfectly aware of the situation. Send him up in whatever manner suits you, but I am to be completely alone for the session, are we clear?"
Clearing his throat, the man replied in his gruff, down to business, voice, "You are aware of the dangers you are evoking by requiring that I'm sure?" Of course I get it, I'm not, and have never been, deaf.
I could feel the scowl forming upon my face but of course, the other could not see the sour expression. "Yes, I'm perfectly aware. I'll see you soon." Letting that final statement close the conversation, I allowed the phone to fall back upon the receiver. My body unconsciously counted the seconds, waiting patiently at my desk for the appearance of my newest arrival. What I was waiting for, however, was a complete mystery.
Surprisingly, as it has been for anyone who has had the rare chance of getting to know me, I am a psychologist, one of the most prestigious around in fact. To the confusion of most, there are differences between psychology, psychoanalysis, and psychiatry. Psychology refers to practice of using the study of the human mind, brain, and behavior to various parts of human activity. These activities include the problems of individuals' daily lives and the treatment of mental illness.
Psychoanalysis, on the other hand, is a method of psychology that tries to explain connections among unconscious pieces of patients' mental processes. The analyst's aim is to help rid the patient from unexamined or unconscious barriers of transference (process of unconsciously redirecting feelings, fears, or emotions onto a new object, often the analyst) and resistance (process in which the ego keeps repressed thoughts and feelings from the conscious mind.) In other words, past patterns of relating behaviors and/or thought processes that are no longer serviceable or that inhibit freedom.
I generally use psychoanalytic methods of psychology for diagnostics and the rare times I actually have to treat someone. I find psychiatrists think too inside the box when trying to ascertain mental illnesses, and I technically do not have the necessary medical degree to administer medicine anyway. Not many know my name but a huge many vital undercover jobs are placed in my care. Most of them are politicians in desperate need of a mental check up, however some of them are criminals with questionable levels of sanity; I'm a master of the mad if I do say so myself.
Speaking of which, there was a rapid flurry of knocks placed upon his door before the knocker decided it was acceptable for him to enter of his own accord. A tall bearded man in his late 30s stepped into the room, followed by a heavily muscled black man, his baldhead shining even in the dimly lit room. A man in his mid 20s and a women with her blonde hair pulled into a tight pony tail took the rear.
Center stage stood a teenage boy with all four limbs shackled to a different escort member, chains dragging along the floor. He was clad in tight washed out jeans and a simple white T so big on him that the right sleeve slipped off his shoulder, revealing extraordinarily pale skin. The most amazing thing, however, was the unruly mass of hair that tumbled down his back and fell in front of his face.
"Duo…" the man in his 20s spoke, "we're here…do you want to say hello?" He spoke to the boy as if he were a child, as if comprehension was far fetched, and that he expected nothing out of the boy.
I was about to make an early note however I had to pause as two alabaster hands came up and parted the curtain of chestnut; eventually jaded violet eyes turned to the few that were watching, sparkling like jovial jewels set within the marble of his face. To date this boy took the cake for most exotic by far and I've seen hundreds of patients.
The bearded man headed towards my desk, making a huge racket with his clunky boots, the complete escort followed suit because they all, of course, were chained to the boy. He tossed a manila folder filled with documents upon the polished wood. "Greg Kent…" he grunted out and then turned to point to the black man, "Simon Chappell," then the blonde woman, "Charlotte Popper," then to the last man, "Richard Haire…" "It's pronounced 'Aire…" the man interrupted. Greg sniffed, obviously miffed about being cut off. Finally, he pointed to the boy standing in the middle of the room, scratching his head and staring about the room in complete oblivion. "Duo Maxwell…"
Hearing his name, the boy focused back on the people in the room, his gaze sliding over everyone, resting last upon me. I felt the sudden need to be more of myself then with my usual patients; so I stood, bowing my head at a 45-degree angle in the typical Japanese greeting, "Hajimemashite Maxwell san…" I focused my eyes upon him; people always listen to you better when you are looking at each other. "I am Heero Yuy; do you know why you are here?"
The boy blinked, just starring for a few moments scratching an itch behind his head, a nervous gesture perhaps. He stammered out, "Ko-konichiwa? Umm…help?" Hn, cute, he was adventurous, trying out a foreign greeting on a native speaker.
I had to resist the urge to chuckle, if the tone had not suggested differently I would have taken that as the correct answer. However, it sounded like Duo meant the type of help that you received from someone taller when you couldn't reach something on a high shelf. "In a way…I suppose that answer will suffice for now." I replied.
I turned my attention back to the escorts for a moment, "you're dismissed…I'll call you when we're through for today…"
Greg looked as if he was going to attempt to deny my one request but the I sent him a chilling glare which must have made even the ex army general feel nervous. "Fine" he bit out, turning around on his heels and storming towards the door, 'oh, I'm so sorry. Did I wound your manly pride?' Some people never learn to grow up. Of course, others, I thought bitterly, never had a chance not to.
"Charlotte, release him, he can't have a session in chains." The general barked the order from outside the door and interrupted my dark musings. Duo's eyes widened as he saw the small, golden key appear in the women's hand. She grabbed the boy's wrists and unceremoniously, unlocking the binds there and crouching down to do the same with his ankles. I watched the boy out of the corner of my eyes as a sly look blossomed upon his face, his tongue poking out between his front teeth in concentration on…something.
Finished with her task, the woman stood and headed towards the door, giving a wave-over-shoulder to the boy she left behind.
Duo waved at her until she shut the door. Turning around with a look of triumph about him, lying in his upturned palm was Charlotte's hair tie, and she hadn't even noticed! In addition to that, he swiftly reached into his pants, literally, and pulled out a compact brush, those crappy ones that fold up, in almost perfect condition.
My patient continued to ignore me as he meticulously ran the brush through his tangled locks. I was tolerant though, sitting at my desk and simply watching the other's work. After finishing the run through with his hair, the chestnut-haired boy divided the mass into three sections, quickly yet efficiently braiding it and finishing it off with the stolen hair tie.
He turned around to face me with a grin. "Ah, much better" He stared at me for a couple of moments. "Remind me who you are again."
This was puzzling, not many people had that bad of a memory, and my name isn't all that common; in fact, it's prone to some obnoxious puns from time to time. "I am sorry I haven't left a bigger impression on you, Mr. Maxwell, I am Heero Yuy." It was about as far as I went joke wise but he just waved it off, replying, "Don't worry about it; it's not your fault."
We needed to get started, "anyway, are you quite finished?" I asked, inclining my head towards the forgotten brush at his side.
He turned peered down at the item for a moment before grinning cheekily. "Yeah, I'm ready…"
Motioning for the boy to sit on the couch to my left, I gathered my note pad and the suspicious looking file Greg had given me. Duo reached the edge of the couch, spinning around a few times as if to scan the area, and then plunked down in its center. I soon occupied a simple fold out chair, located near the sofa. I scanned over the braided boy's file, eyes flickering over picture after picture and page after page of documents and legal files. This was some heavy shit.
Sighing, I placed the file onto a table beside him and turned my attention to the boy sitting placidly on the couch in front of me. "Before I properly introduce myself would you mind answering me a few questions?"
The boy bit his lip but slowly nodded his head in acknowledgement.
"Do you, on any levels, believe yourself to be among the insane?"
"Someone once said 'The world is insane,' who am I to judge what is crazy and what is not?" Duo vaguely replied without missing a beat, yet I somehow got the awkward feeling that I wasn't the only one he was talking to. The response Duo gave was peculiar but not particularly uncommon. It generally came from pariahs, people who were not understood or who did not understand themselves, or people who could only explain the world as insane when trying to comprehend it.
"Fair enough, however if the world were to take it from your point of view, what would you describe as insanity?"
"Insanity is when innocent people die and the guilty survive, it is wars started for nothing other than greed, it is prejudice, hate crimes, abuse, and poverty, and most of all it is a world that no one can understand."
Was he saying that insanity was simply unexplained evil? Well we could get back to that. I paused because firing out questions in rapid succession generally tends to set a patient off, which is understandable. "So you consider yourself to be quite normal then? There is nothing wrong with you?"
Violet eyes gleamed in the twilight spilling through the window. He chuckled in a manner that could only be described as chilling; perhaps this is what the file was talking about. So far, I had seen nothing in the nature of the boy that even remotely pointed to the character of the crimes committed in the file about him. "oh no, that about sums me up, I should not be considered sane on any level," he nonchalantly twirled a stray lock of hair around his index finger, cocking his head to the side, regarding me with his eyes flashing amethyst color eyes like knives reflecting the moonlight. His lips formed into a crooked smile. "Can you hear him?" he whispered, I would be lying if I said that the tone didn't cause a small shiver or two to run down my spine.
"Who?" I questioned, gaze never faltering.
"Shinigami…" I blinked and looked away. So either he's a schizophrenic, or trying to pass him self off as one. Being that this is one of the most popular fictional mental disorders it is often misconceived and extremely hard to imitate. Schizophrenia is the psychiatric diagnosis of a mental disorder characterized by the impairments in the perception or expression of reality. Minor schizophrenia usually just results in disarray of thoughts; however, if it is left untreated it can result in hallucinations and delusional activities. Most intelligent folk, however, know that this illness is difficult to copy and, in fact, it is so controversial that it has become the obsolete umbrella term for more specific disorders that fall underneath its diagnosis characteristics. Hence, people would not try to depict themselves as someone with a schizoid personality.
And Shinigami? Why would an American know about the Japanese God of Death? Had he been acting before, trying to portray that he didn't know Japanese, or did he say that specifically because I was Japanese, but how would he know about Shinigami in the first place? I decided that I needed to do a lot more research on my newest arrival.
A switch of topics seemed optimal at the moment; we would come back to this later, when I had more information. "Alright Duo, you don't mind if I call you Duo, ne?"
The boy smiled at me reassuringly. "Yup, Duo's my name. I may run and I may hide but I never tell a lie. That's me in a nutshell."
That was interesting, and surprisingly helpful, if what he says is indeed true. "Personal motto?"
He slowly nodded his head, "This above all: to thine own self be true."
The last statement made it obvious that he was very well educated; it was also spoken as a joke so I forced out a little chuckle before continuing the second part of our introductions. "You can just call me Heero I suppose…" I was about to announce to him that I was a psychologist trying to determine his sanity but I decided that the information really wasn't necessary nor advised to give. This was based upon the fact that if I deemed him insane, they would send him back to wherever they were keeping him for the moment, and, if I deemed him sane, he would be sent somewhere even worse. Once again, I needed a subject change. "If you were to narrow it down to an individual, who is most insane?"
Duo narrowed his eyes and I got another glimpse of something beneath the surface. "God…"
That always complicated matters, mentally sighing, I kept my voice at the same monotonous level, to be honest I would have made an outstanding psychoanalyst but that job was far less interesting. "You are religious then?"
Duo chuckled, "No, I'm atheist." Apparently, this question had been asked of him before, since he seemed quite accustomed to the answer.
Narrowing my eyes in confusion, I paused to think back to a few of the pictures, from the file, of Duo right after capture. He definitely was wearing a clerical shirt. "In that case you do not actually believe in such a being so how could he be insane?"
"Well by my definition, that's who it would be. Besides, God could exist, he's just dead, and if he isn't…he should be. I suppose that makes me agnostic but those details are never really important to me."
"Do you blame God for all things that are wrong?" I hate people like that. Forcing their problems on some high celestial being, it always came back to bite people in the ass.
Duo's eyes hardened, "no" he bit out, "why should I be his responsibility? I'm not a kid; I don't need to be coddled like that."
I raised my eyebrow, scanning over the clipboard for a date. Finding nothing, I took a long glace at the limber form in front of me. He wasn't anywhere close to being buff but any observant person could notice the ripple of strength underneath his skin. He was quite masculine despite the long hair. On the other hand, he had big, doe like eyes and it didn't look like he had shaved a day in his life and yet had no body hair to show for it. Therefore I concluded that he had to be young, at least a couple of years younger than I was. "How old are you? You say you're not a child but you can't possibly be even old enough to drive."
"Really? And how old are you then? You don't seem like you've even reached the drinking age yet."
Well, well…most people think I'm older than I really am. This is the first time I've been caught in the act. Luckily, it's a bit too late in the game for me to get in trouble with anyone for my little fraud game. "I'm told I'm 19, and you?"
Lithe legs crossed themselves; it would seem like a defensive gesture for most. Duo, however, made it out to be more like a stance of contemplation. "Exactly, so don't think age matters." He gazed around the room, eyes locking on something, I wasn't sure what.
"Who ever said I did? I am only asking for your age because you brought up not being a child in the first place. If you do not wish to answer then…"
"16"
I stared at him, "you're 16?" His body didn't exactly reflect it.
The boy, young man I suppose, looked back at me. Then scratched his head, "yeah well that's what I tell people. I don't really know, I'm probably more like 15 but…I could be."
Finally, a lead on something about the braided boy, "why don't you know your own age?"
Duo paused, his eyes scanned over my Spartan room and rested upon something over by my desk. "I hate that…"
I, having not caught what Duo was paying attention to, had to do a run through of what our conversation had been so far, still not coming up with a plausible reason to say the previous sentence, I inquired, "Hate what?"
"That…thing behind your desk…" Duo grimaced starring at mentioned item. Maybe it was his turn to switch the subject. All right then, if it made him comfortable.
The "thing behind the desk" happened to be a piece of modern art that, for once, did not look like a piece of trash. It was the only decorative piece in the room and caused the dimmed light from the ceiling to bounce about in random patterns, for the item happened to be a perfectly kept shattered mirror that took up the entire expanse of the wall it occupied.
I turned my head to study it for a moment before refocusing my attention upon my easily distractible patient; either that or he was avoiding something. All right, I'll play along.
"Why is that?"
Duo blew the bangs out of his eyes, sighing and briefly refocusing his attention on the piece. Shaking his head as if to clear it he replied, "it reminds me of something." He rubbed the inside of his arms in a possible attempt to rid his flesh of the goose bumps that had risen only moments before.
"Seven years of bad luck?" I asked in a jovial, well as jovial as I got, manner, trying to keep the mood light. We didn't need to get too serious on his first visit. Unfortunately, I am not the best at judging social situations, since I always read far too into things. The lack of humor in Duo's response only reaffirmed this.
He chuckled in a surprisingly bitter manner. "More than just seven…" That could only mean bad news but since I didn't know or want to press for the specifics yet…it was time to get back down to business in the usual manner.
I wrote a few things down in my notebook as I spoke, "Well if all goes well, I can wish for a bright and beautiful future for you, I'm sure the bad luck will end soon. Now as I was saying…"
"That's up to you." He interrupted, again, might I add. I raised an eyebrow at him from over the clipboard.
"My future, is it not?" He voice dripped with contempt. "I hate liars. Truth is beauty, beauty truth…and that…" He jabbed his finger over in the mirrors direction, "isn't beautiful at all, that's why it had to break." He stated this as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, which to be honest was slightly unnerving.
I sighed, closing my eyes for a moment in thought. "I assume you know why you're here then?" I asked, reopening them.
A single eyebrow flew into the beginning of his bangs, "do you?"
What? Of course I knew, I was the psychologist here, not him. What could possibly spur the boy to ask such a question? It almost seemed that our roles were reversed now, and that was completely unacceptable. The answer to this, therefore, had to be a question. "Why wouldn't I? It seems very straight forward to me."
Peering at me from under his bangs, he smiled at me. "Perhaps you are not as intelligent as I thought. You need to look around more often, not everything is crystal clear, Heero."
I sighed, he was insulting me, and he was beating around the bush, very frustrating. I glanced at the clock and was surprised to see that an hour had came and went. If every session was like this, I would have to extend the deadline, and that was unacceptable as well. "If you wish to tell me something, then say it. I have no intention of playing cat and mouse with you for information."
Duo twirled a lock of hair around his finger, "ever thought that I might not be at liberty to say?" He scratched behind his ear and sighed, "Tell you what. We'll make a deal, makes this easier on both of us, no?"
I stared into those spiraling indigo of his and looked for any sign of trickery or devious nature of any kind. I found nothing but painful honesty hiding in plain sight. I had never seen anything like it. "What kind of deal?"
"I'll tell you anything you wish."
I blinked, well that would be wonderful but he had to think I was pretty stupid to not think about what the catch was. "And…?"
"It's easy…" he smiled in a jovial manner.
I groaned, why did he have to be so difficult? "Yes…?" I bit out.
He crossed his legs, sitting up straighter as well. "You take whatever's in that file and burn it. It's biased and completely one sided. I'm me, and what I say should be what you decide my fate upon."
I snorted, "I'm not a judge…"
Duo caught my eye, "you're mine."
I felt like something huge and sticky lodge itself in my throat. I swallowed, what was the matter with me today? Shaking my head I spoke, "you know I can't do that, its classified information. Moreover, even if I decided to break the 50 rules in book you are asking me to, how do I know you're telling the truth? If you've made it this far I assume you're a good actor, ne?"
Duo smiled, "see, I know I was right about you…" he shook his head, "such a waste that I get someone with some actual sense in their head and they end up being afraid of the government. I'm the one whose on trial here, remember?"
"While I do thank you for your compliment, that's exactly the point." I pointed a finger at the boy, "you're a criminal, you're word is close to nil. I've already looked at your file and, in case you haven't noticed, it's some serious stuff. You don't think I'm actually going to buy that you didn't do all this. The evidence is so clear there is no way it has been tampered with."
The room was silent for a few awkward moments. I actually felt a little bad about calling him a liar; he seemed so disturbed by the accusation. What's worse was that, despite all that, I could tell he understood the reasons for my precautions, even if they did sicken him.
A sharp whisper ripped through the air, "I will wear my heart upon my sleeve for daws to peck at,' please, Heero, I need you to agree to this. Let me explain to you why I can't lie, then maybe you'll understand me better."
And that statement dutifully rewarded us with 3 bangs of "General" Kent alerting us to his presence. Duo raised his head and glared at the door, as if it was the source of all his problems. Sighing, he rubbed his face into the palms of his hands. "So much for that..."
I smirked widely at his response to the barbaric door banging. "Don't worry, you'll be here tomorrow. We have quite a few sessions ahead of us."
Duo gave me a befuddled expression before morphing it into a smile, "I bear a charmed life."
The knocking grew into hard bangs against my newly painted door. I growled low in my throat, causing Duo to whip his head around and stare at me in surprise, both eyebrows raised. I ignored him for a second to yell out, "come in!" before flashing a second smirk at the boy.
He briefly stuck his tongue out at me before his expressions quickly morphed into a grimace as the General entered the room. I scowled up at the man as well. "You're early."
The man then had the audacity to check his watch, as if he didn't know the time, and smirk at me. "Yeah well, we're late for another appointment. The boy keeps us very busy." His gaze flicked maliciously down at Duo, who immediately stood, keeping his eyes completely callous, once the gaze rested upon him.
I sniffed in disapproval, "nevertheless, you owe me an extra ten minutes, remember that for next time."
He gave me a long glare that was probably intimidating to most; however, we'd been through the glare routine before so I was already finding it to be a bore. I stood, gathering my notes, and headed towards my desk. Surprisingly Duo followed me, standing besides me while I arranged things on the opposite side of my desk. He didn't look at me at all though; he was still staring blankly at the man at the door.
The General's focus, however, was still fully upon me. He snarled under his breath. "You don't run the show, kid."
Double whammy for him, one, he obviously didn't know what he was talking about, and two he called me a kid when I haven't been one is so long. I whirled around and glared daggers at the man. "Let's get this straight…" I bit out "…you're right I don't run the show, I am the show. The only reason you get to play intermediary is for one reason, your boss hired me on this case. Therefore, this is my time, and yours is very much second to mine. I haven't reached this point being a kid and even when we boil it to down the basics I will always be superior to you." I was thrilled with the fact that his face was now a bright shade of red, he looked like an angry carton with steam coming out of his ears. However, the thing I loved best about my little speech is the fact that my patient was grinning from ear to ear at the man, obviously very pleased with the verbal lashing Greg had just received.
The man let out a loud snarl, but for some reason it wasn't directed at me, it was at the braided boy. "What are you grinning at boy? Mind your place; you know what's coming next, right?"
Duo scowled, "you're pathetic."
This only seemed to please the man however, "Charlotte! Get in here!" The woman quickly obeyed his orders. "Bind and search him…" He turned his head back to Duo, "…I see you've got your hair braided. You know that's against the rules."
The braided boy hung his head, sighing, "I told you, I feel better with it out of my face."
Charlotte crooked her finger, summoning Duo over to her. Duo compliantly followed the demand, walking over and standing by the woman. "Take it down." She ordered, obviously peeved about having her hair tie taken right under her nose. Duo pouted, ripping the hair tie out of his hair, his makeshift braid exploding into a waterfall down his back.
Several items fell upon the floor. A paper clip, Heero's watch and favorite pen, and a letter opener, which Heero had conveniently left upon his desk before he had began the session. Charlotte sighed, handcuffing the boy before bending down to pick up the stolen items.
"Stop!" barked out Sir Snarls-a-lot, halting the woman in her tracks. She looked up, questioningly. "Search him first."
"Strip search, sir?" A strip search, was that really necessary? I had the sudden need to take a long sip from my water bottle. The General shook his head, "no that can wait, just a thorough pat down for now."
I stared at the boy who hadn't made a peep for a long while. I didn't notice anything at first glance, but looking back I suddenly realized that Duo's entire face had gone placid, almost docile. Was this the real reason that Duo was not allowed to braid his hair? He seemed so much more childish now that he was staring at everything as if he'd never seen it before.
"Duo," Charlotte spoke. He slowly lifted his gaze to meet hers. She upturned her mouth into what I assume to be the beginnings of a smile, "search."
He continued staring unblinkingly into her eyes, as if the words had not registered in his mind yet. Finally, his eyes widened with the sprouting of a new idea and surprisingly his gaze flickered over to mine before his expression morphed into a something I couldn't place, but whatever it was, Duo liked it. He leisurely raised his cuffed arms, crossing them over his head, as if he were trying to stretch his shoulder blades. Charlotte began patting him down, starting with his back, which required her to wrap her arms around him in what would have looked like an act of affection in any other circumstance. The hands kept going, making their way over to the front of his body, but the strangest thing was, the entire time this was happening, Duo's eyes were locked upon mine, a strange little smile playing across his face.
The hands delved underneath his tent sized T-Shirt and then slid down to his thighs and buttocks area. Duo leisurely closed his eyes, leaning his head back, a contented little smile emerging on his face. The pat down finished with a run down of his inner thigh and lastly his calves. Picking the items off the floor, Charlotte stood back up and called out, "completed." Duo gently opened his eyes, letting this bound wrists to fall to the front of his body.
"It's time to leave," growled out the General. Charlotte went back and placed the items back on my desk before walking back towards the door. The boy looked up and left his gaze on mine as if he'd forgotten what it was he was going to do. "Come on, Duo." The white man called from the door, trying to hide the chain leash he was most likely going to attach to Duo's ankles once again. Duo blinked, raising both his hands, he tried to scratch his head again, but the action proved a lot more difficult to do in cuffs. His eyes widened in surprise, as if an idea has just been born inside his head. "Ja ne! Hee chan!" and with that he practically bounced out of the room, obviously quite please with himself. He really was different, I thought to myself as a small smile formed across my own face.
I hate Bastard Heeros, so even though he may seems a bit stone faced in the first few chapters, it is because he likes to remove himself from his work as it is a very commonly accepted method of psychology, notice how the writing style is kind of like observing and experiment, it's supposed to be like his notes. If you didn't get that, it's ok because I'm a loser like that. Anyways no need to fear, he will warm up I promise.
