While looking around fanfiction, I did a search for stories on 65 and stories on Lero. Know what? Neither has one. There isn't one story on this site for either of them.

Since neither 65 or Lero seem to be main characters in any stories on this site (though I do understand the reasons) I felt sorry for them. I mean, what character doesn't want their own story?

Therefore, this story is purely for the sake of 65 and Lero. It is their very own story that has basically nothing to do with anything.

Hope you like this fun little dedication to them!

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"Sixty-five, take care of this thing."

Those were all the instructions poor 65 was given before having a odd pink umbrella with a pumpkin head thrust at him.

'Take care of this thing.'

65 puzzled over what exactly he should do with the strange umbrella to 'take care' of it. He couldn't help but wonder what on earth his job had to do with 'taking care' of an umbrella, but then again, he'd been given much stranger assignments in the past.

Should he simply put in storage for safe keeping, or was he supposed to watch over it? Was there something he was supposed to know about it that everyone else knew, and so assumed that he knew as well?

He sighed.

Filing, researching, and just generally being an extra hand around Headquarters was his job. He hated getting strange assignments like this because he never knew what to do. He was, after all, a being programed to do office work.

Thinking outside the box was always a problem. Not just that, but thinking at all was really a pain because most of his orders were more specific than 'take care of this thing'. What kind of instruction was that, anyway?

Silently, he floated through the halls, holding the pink umbrella, trying valiantly to understand what on earth had been meant by the vague instructions.

In the end, he managed nothing but running into three people and wandering in circles for a solid hour as he hurt his head, trying to decide what to do with the umbrella.

It was when he paused on the roof Headquarters to look around and wonder how he'd managed to get up there, that the umbrella spoke.

"My head! Lero..."

65's eyes widened as he looked down at the umbrella in surprise. It talked! Almost immediately, a cloud of depression descended on him. This only made his dilemma worse!

What was he supposed to do with a talking umbrella?

Lero, for his part, was concentrating on his pounding head. What had happened?

Slowly, he recalled those damned Exorcists fighting Road-sama. He was sure Road-sama was getting the upper hand. He'd been cheering her on when he felt a shadow fall on him from behind. He'd turned around in time to see that stupid Exorcist with his Hammer held over Lero's head and an evil smirk on the Exorcist's lips.

Then everything had gone black. So where was he now?

Lero looked up and nearly had a panic attack.

Some strange white-blue creature was holding him in a tight grip. There was a '65' on the creature's head, or what Lero assumed was the head. Then again, Lero supposed he didn't have much room to talk, seeing as how he was a talking umbrella.

"Who are you? Lero!" he screeched, trying to squirm out of the creature's grasp. "Let me go! Lero! Let me go! Lero! What are you? Lero!"

Confusion entered the creature's eyes as it watched him.

65 might have cried in frustration at that moment if it had been in his programming. How the hell was he supposed to 'take care' of a talking umbrella that clearly didn't want to be 'taken care' of?

As he puzzled over the problem, Lero managed to escape him and floated in the air in front of him, still yelling.

"Well? Well? Lero. What are you, creature? Lero."

65, still puzzled, pointed to his forehead where his name was.

"You're 65? Lero. 65 what? Lero."

65 made a helpless gesture.

"It can't talk? Huh. Lero." Lero frowned and suddenly went back into panic mode. "I have to get back to Earl-sama! Lero Earl-sama! Lero!"

He turned to zoom away, only to be caught by 65, who had decided that he had better get the talking umbrella inside before it got away and he couldn't 'take care' of it anymore.

"Let me go! Lero! Let me go! Lero!" he screeched, struggling against 65, who turned and went back inside, determined not to loose the umbrella.

It was his job to 'take care' of it, after all. What would happen if he didn't 'take care' of it as he was ordered?

That thought nearly sent 65 into a panic attack of his own as images came to his mind of what the Supervisor might do to him if he failed his assignment. He clutched the umbrella even tighter and hugged it to his chest as he floated through the halls of Headquarters, ignoring the screeching.

What if the Supervisor... what if he... he... fired 65?

The thought sent a shudder through 65, and he hurried on to the storage rooms, deciding that if the umbrella was boxed up in there, it couldn't get away and get him in trouble for not 'taking care' of it.

Lero, of course, only screeched all the louder as they descended into the bowels of Headquarters, deathly afraid of what this '65' creature was going to do to him, and what the Earl might do if he didn't come back. How long had he been out? He needed to get back to the Earl!

"LET ME GO! LERO!"

65 ignored the echoing screeches of the umbrella that probably everyone in Headquarters could hear by now, and entered the oldest of the storage rooms. He rummaged around until he found a heavy wooden crate that was empty enough to fit the umbrella inside, and slide the lid back a bit.

Lero, suddenly realizing what 65 intended, struggled even harder.

"NO! LERO! LET ME GO! LERO! YOU CAN'T PUT ME IN THERE! LERO! EARL-SAMAAAAA! LERO!"

65 fought to hang onto the struggling umbrella, the thought of being fired fueling him to even greater efforts to get the umbrella into the crate. He shoved Lero between the books that filled the box and quickly slammed the lid closed, holding it down as Lero beat on the other side.

"LET ME OUT RIGHT NOW! LERO! LET ME OUT LET ME OUT LET ME OUT! LERO!"

65 looked around for another crate to put on top of the one Lero was in. Spotting one, he went and grabbed it, only to have Lero spring out of the crate he'd been shoved into, crowing happily.

"FREE FREE! LERO! I'M FREE! LER--"

65 zoomed after him and caught Lero's handle just before he made it out the storage room door. Utterly determined now, 65 held onto the umbrella as it fought him.

26 minutes later...

65 sat on top of two crates, the bottom one holding a still-screeching Lero captive, and the top one preventing escape.

65 sighed in relief.

He wasn't going to get fired now. He had 'taken care' of the talking umbrella as he'd been ordered to. He jumped and landed lightly on the floor to float away happily.

Back to his office work.

Had humming been in his programming, he would have been doing just that.

Meanwhile, Lero continued to screech at the top of his lungs.

"HELP ME EARL-SAMA! LERO! LET ME OUT LET ME OUT LET ME OUT! LERO! SOMEONE LET ME OUT! LERO!"

In Komui's office...

Komui looked up from his paperwork as 65 floated back in to the room.

"There you are 65. Where have you been all this time?"

65 floated proudly in front of him and Komui shrugged, handing him as stack of papers, before turning to Reever.

"Hey, do you hear that noise?"

Reever looked up from his own work, glaring at the Supervisor.

"Don't try that trick again. Get back to work! Now!"

"Alright, alright!" Komui went back to signing the papers on his desk and several minutes passed before he looked up at Reever again. "Seriously, do you hear that?"

A book hit him.

"Yeouch!"

"Get back to work you lazy baka and quite pretending you're hearing things to get out of work!" Reever yelled.

Komui, properly subdued, for the moment, went back to his own work, figuring it must just be his imagination. After all, who would be screeching loud enough for him to hear them on the 31st floor?

In the storage room...

"LET ME OOOOOUT! LERO!"