This was going to be a One-shot, but I kept adding onto it in my mind and I realized it was going to be WAY too long to be a one-shot, so I'm going to do this in /smaller/ chapters. :3

I LOVE MY BETA-READER!

Ienzo slowly entered his school. His parents were crying, the students were crying (even the younger ones who had no clue what was going on) the teachers were crying, even the principle. He closed his eyes, was he the only one that didn't care? Slowly, Ienzo crept up to his classroom, setting his messenger backpack on his chair. He sat down, waiting for the lesson to begin. The sobbing was giving him a massive headache. He saw his teacher eyeing him, her eyes digging into him uncomfortably. He quietly opened his English text book , crossing his small hands on the desk. When he realized there would be no lesson today, Ienzo decided to read something- anything. His silver eyes scanned over a sign on the door. "Miss Lockheart's second grade class."

The first thing he noticed below the introduction to the class was a picture of all the second grader's lovely smiling faces, not Ienzo's. His mouth was simply formed into a line. Apathy. He chuckled softly to himself. He shifted in his seat a bit, looking over to the 'Kreative Kid's Korner'. His apathetic expression turned into a slight smirk. Oh Miss Lockheart aren't you just the clever one? Spelling 'Creative' and 'Corner' with a K. How original. Ienzo looked over the board, it was filled with drawings and paintings of all sorts, done by his fellow students. He didn't feel the need to do something so menial, so he refused to. That gave Miss Lockheart quite a kick in the rear. She looked hurt that he didn't want to participate in the stupid creative assignment.

There was no reason for Ienzo to be creative; he just didn't care. His parents constantly worried over him, and sometimes his mother would cry. This only made Ienzo happy, in a sense. He wasn't exactly 'happy' more content with himself than 'happy'. Why? He wasn't all that sure. He is only seven years old after all. Ienzo never really felt anything, in fact he could never remember a time he was 'happy' or 'sad'. He never cried, not even when he was born. Ienzo was always intelligent, almost like he was born with it. Knowing so much, however, he could never feel happy. He never learned anything, and he always was quick to react. That was no fun at all. He fiddled with his pencil, watching it and it's intricate design. It was amazing, something as simple as a pencil was made up of millions...billions of atoms.

"Hey Ienzo!" The familiar voice made Ienzo cringed. It wasn't that he didn't like his mullet haired, white trash friend; he could just be rather...annoying at times. Yes, Edym was white trash. He came from a family of white trash, hicks, rustics, bumpkins, country dwellers. Ienzo wasn't being stereotypical, but Edym lived in a white trash neighborhood, in a white trash mobile home, with a white trash family. He was always dirty and only had about three pairs of clothes that were obviously handed down from his five brothers before him. Soon they would be passed down to his younger brother, and so on and so forth.

"Edym," Ienzo regarded. Maybe it was because Ienzo came from a smaller and more prestigious family, but Edym really knew how to get under his skin, even if it was unintentional. "I suppose you've come to ruin yet another...already partially ruined day?" Edym gave an obnoxious, almost seizure inducing chortle.

"Gee! No." He laughed hard, as if Ienzo had just made the funniest joke he had ever heard in his life. Ienzo rolled his eyes, and so it begins. "I was just wonderin' why everyone was cryin' so much!" he chirped. Ienzo cringed. "I mean when ya think 'bout it, there's somethin' awful terrible that must be happenin' though!" More cringing from the silverette next to Edym.

"You didn't hear?" Ienzo inquired, staring at Edym from the corner of his eyes. "Ansem the Wise was assassinated earlier this morning. Somewhere in Hallow Bastion, I believe." Edym feigned shock.

"Gee! That's awful close to Twilight Town!" the blonde gasped, hand slamming on the table loudly, drawing attention from the rest of the class, including the caterwauling Miss Lockheart. Ienzo looked around at the class uninterestedly.

"I suppose. Don't feign shock, though. You really don't care," Ienzo stated, pulling out a book from his messenger bag. He opened it and began to read, attempting to take his mind off of everything around him. Edym probably didn't even know who Ansem the Wise was. Though he hated to admit it, he and Ienzo were very similar. They were natural leaders, they spoke out, and they didn't care about anyone but themselves. They were social outcasts, maybe that's why Edym felt such a strong attachment to him. He needed to cling to someone that was like him, or be rejected by everyone else.

Ienzo recalled a certain ninth grader. His name was Braig. Braig was exactly like Edym and himself. He always tried to get people to hang out with him, doing whatever he could to fit in with everyone else. He was rebellious, however, so the other students wanted nothing to do with him. Ever since Ansem the Wise was discovered by the world everyone followed the governments propaganda. Apparently He was created by Ansem the Wise and He influenced the governments. He was a patriotic, yet peaceful man. He was well mannered and proper. He was kind, gentle, sweet, caring, perfection. He was the epitome of a perfect human being. He didn't really exist. No one knew that except for a select few who hadn't been blinded by the government and Ansem the Wise. Ienzo, Edym, and Braig were a small fraction of those who were aware. No one even realized that He didn't even have a name. Idiots. Back to Braig.

Braig was a problem child. He came from a nice, well off family, but he didn't follow rules. Braig hated participating in school activities, and so he didn't. Then one day they came to their school. They took Braig to the councilors office and questioned him for hours. No one noticed Braig was gone except for Ienzo, Edym even noticed and he was a bit on the slow side. For some reason Ienzo couldn't stop thinking of Braig, and the next day when he came to school, he searched for Braig, but the teenager was nowhere to be found. Ienzo decided to confront Braig's teacher.

"Mr. Strife?" Ienzo asked, keeping a calm apathetic expression. "Where is Braig today?" Mr. Strife, accompanied by Mr. Fair, stared at Ienzo before nervously glancing at Mr. Fair. Mr Fair simply frowned, then smiled almost hypnotically.

"Ienzo, dear, Braig did not meet or standards and he was moved to a different...more suitable area." Mr. Fair gave a gut-wrenching grin, it was almost sardonic like he was some kind of sadist. Ienzo tensed up slightly, not from fear, but...from something. Definitely something.

"Did you put him in solitary confinement?" Ienzo inquired, remaining as calm as possible. Mr. Fair smirked, ruffling Ienzo's hair. He had a secret. Definitely had a secret.

"You'll find out one day, Ienzo. You will."

Mr. Fair had a scary way of remaining calm and happy, yet cynical and oppressing. Ienzo couldn't help but wonder where Braig was taken. Maybe he was killed. Yes, that must be it. People who weren't right for the economy, or a threat to the now peaceful world, were killed. Ienzo wasn't positive this was it, but he had a strange feeling in the pits of his stomach.

"Gee Ienzo, you thinkin' real hard!" Edym noticed. "What you thinkin' 'bout?" Ienzo looked over at him, slightly taken aback. He was worried for himself, Edym too, he supposed. His eyebrows furrowed slightly, then he tensed up again, narrowing his eyes slightly.

"Edym, did you do your own hair today?" Ienzo inquired, "or did your mom do it for you?"

Edym blinked, such a strange question. "Er...I did it myself...why? Do ya like it!?" he asked excitedly, running his fingers through his hair. He looked quite proud of himself, in fact.

"We're screwed..." Ienzo whispered softly under his breath, though he didn't seem too distressed.

"What?" Edym asked.

"Nothing."