Am I just posting every story with Lithuania I have written in celebration of Lithuania's 100th year anniversary? Yes, yes, I am.

The school library was silent and empty save for the librarian typing on her computer in her office. She had long before accepted the presence of the ten-year-old who sat alone at the table in the far corner every day after school until 3:35.

He sat quietly, doing homework or reading a book he picked from one of the many shelves that filled the library. And every day at 3:35 he'd pack up all his belongings, place the book back in its place on the shelf if he has taken one that day, and leave.

Usually the school library wasn't open to students that long, but she wasn't about to turn him away for no reason. It's not as if he was bothering her. He was barely even there.

3:35. She looked up to see the boy leaving and smiled at him. "Bye."

He gave her a small smile in return. "Bye."

The halls were always empty by the time Raivis emerged from the library. He preferred them that way. During the school day the halls were always crowded with people shoving and yelling, and Raivis's incredibly small stature made it nearly impossible to get through.

But now it was quiet. All of the students had either gone home or were in some classroom for the Afterschool Program.

The lights were dimmed to save energy, so when he pushed open the doors of the front entrance of the school, the sun was blinding. He blinked a few times, allowing his eyes to adjust to the light.

Once he could actually keep his eyes open without pain, he frowned.

Where is he?

A few minutes turned to ten, and Raivis sat down with his back to one of the columns that made up the school's entryway. Finally, after about twenty minutes, he heard the pounding of feet running on the sidewalk. He grabbed his bag and stood up as his brother ran up to him.

"Sorry. . . I'm late," he managed to gasp out through heavy breaths.

"What took you so long?" Raivis demanded, placing his hands on his hips (though it was hardly intimidating). His brother was too particular about punctuality to be running this late for no reason.

"Erm . . ." He pushed up his glasses and offered his frowning younger brother a slightly sheepish grin. "I was . . . finishing a test . . . Look, I'll make it up to you. How about we go out for ice cream?"

That seemed to be enough to mollify him. He happily went on ahead, looking back at Eduard over his shoulder and chiding him for being so slow.

And Eduard sighed in relief, glad to have distracted his brother before he noticed his soaked bag.

"I heard you were late picking up Raivis today."

Eduard looked up from the dish he was drying, trying to gauge whether or not his brother was mad at him. It had been said casually, like he was simply trying to start a conversation, but Eduard could never be too sure. His brother had always been surprisingly hard to read.

Toris hadn't even looked at him, focusing instead on the dishes he was washing.

He looked back down at his own dish. "Um, yeah. I was finishing a test."

Toris made a quiet humming noise. "I wasn't aware you could stay that long after a class to finish a test. Then again, I haven't been in school for awhile, so I could be wrong."

He wasn't, of course. Eduard swallowed nervously. He really didn't like where this was going. "Um, well, I was making up a test, actually."

"That must have been a short test."

Shoot. "Yeah, it was."

"I don't remember you missing any days recently. Unless" – at this he finally looked at Eduard, giving him a stern look – "you've been skipping class."

Eduard was taken aback. "I-I haven't been –"

Toris shut the water off, now turning to face him. His expression softened. "Ed, if there's something wrong, you know you can talk to me about it, right?"

Eduard sighed, putting down the plate he'd been holding. "There's nothing wrong."

"Ed – "

"Besides, shouldn't you be more concerned about Raivis? You know those kids are still giving him a hard time."

"So you admit that Raivis getting picked on is a problem, but you don't acknowledge that kids picking on you is an issue?"

He knew.

"What makes you think somebody's picking on me?" he asked, looking away.

It was stupid, and he knew it. It was obvious that he was lying, and he knew that Toris was extremely good at picking up on that sort of thing.

He could feel Toris's eyes on him, studying him. After a moment he heard him sigh and turn away. "I don't know." And with that he left the kitchen.

Eduard picked up the towel and plate again to finish drying and putting away the dishes.

He knew. He had to know. He wouldn't have brought it up otherwise.

But he had let him off easy, hadn't pushed him too far. And that Eduard couldn't understand.

Snitches get stitches, Raivis.