Das Machts Nichts: Friday

~IT~

-"Mikhael was arguing with Alvin on Friday…"

'Streamer', with a sigh, opened up her web browser and clicked on a bookmark to her favorite video streaming site. Nothing much was going on in their history class at present, given that the syllabus had been completed-… furthermore, the school year was almost at an end, and the girl was relieved.

She had some shows that she needed to catch up on.

It wasn't much; the school's Wi-Fi wasn't at it's best in her class, but she was willing to tolerate lesser video quality. What she found hard to tolerate was the fact that her earphone's seemed to have malfunctioned on her left side, and had stopped working.

She could hear Alvin and Mikhael going at it again.

"Alvin," Mikhael said with a slightly German accent cutting into his tone, "did you finish your portion of the assignment? If we don't both finish it, we won't get a grade. It's already overdue!"

"Sure thing!" Alvin exclaimed, tossing the folder with the project inside to his working partner. "It was easier than I thought, Michael."

"Nein-…no! It's not 'Michael', you twit." Mikhael complained harshly. "It's Mikhael. You pronounce it 'Mik-ha-el'. It's almost the end of the school year, and not once have you gotten it right!"

"Chill, man. I'm just messing with you. You're just as easy to Oceana Steele over there," Alvin said with a laugh as he pointed at the girl who had transferred from Australia a bare three months before, who was chatting with Eleanor on the other side of the class. "You two just react in this funny way and get your undies all bunched up when your names aren't pronounced the way you want them to. But you're funnier, especially when you slip up and speak German and you have to repeat what you meant in English."

"I don't find it funny." Mikhael turned his attention to the project, skimming through it. As he did, Streamer thought that she could almost hear his blood pressure rise. "What the hell is this, Alvin? Did you write this after watching a war movie instead of properly researching it?!"

Alvin was calm as if he had expected the outburst from his friend. "Actually no, it wasn't from a movie. But I properly researched it. You see, I played this shooter game based on the war…" He hadn't even gotten any further before Mikhael yelled a German curse before storming back to his seat. The girl sitting around her laptop found herself pausing her video just to listen in on the boy's argument, mostly from her concern, though she kept her eyes on the screen to appear that she wasn't eavesdropping. "Oh come on!" Alvin snapped. "What's the matter? I did a lot of writing for this! Can't you verify it if it's true? I mean, you are half-German after all… Shouldn't you be a professional on this project? Not being racist… I mean because you love History. Besides, what's that phrase you're always saying? 'Das mats nits' or something like that? It doesn't matter? That's what it means, doesn't it? It doesn't matter. That's what you're always saying."

"Das machts nichts-… it doesn't matter. But I'm sure it must have been fun for you to have spent hours shooting video game Nazis!" the boy fumed. "I'll have to edit this all during lunch time and hope that we get a C." The boy exhaled deeply. "Das machts nichts-… it doesn't matter."

"You're right. It doesn't matter, 'cause I'm sure that the game developers did their research too. It'll work out, man. Besides, a C isn't a bad grade. It's decent."

"It'd be better if you did your work properly," Mikhael grumbled heatedly as he took out his phone in order to do some last minute research. "Ok, Google… browse World War Two on Wikipedia."

The phone spent the longest while trying to process his request, but it inevitably failed due to his accent. "…Could you repeat that?"

The girl sitting around her laptop had to bite her lower lip to avoid laughing out loud, before going back to playing her show. With that done, however, she felt her mirth turn abruptly into regret and guilt when she heard the boy sound as if he wanted to grieve; despite her show having her attention and blaring in one ear, what Mikhael whispered was still audible to her.

"…It's as if the whole world hates me…"

Streamer nearly felt like kicking herself, but all of a sudden, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She was badly startled but didn't let it show. She looked up at the owner and saw that Mikhael was next to her. Pulling out both earpieces, she asked him for what he wanted.

"I see that you're watching something on your laptop." The half-German scratched his head as he observed that there was a rotating circle in the middle of the screen, indicating that the video was 'buffering'. "Mr. Dracon is a bit lax when it comes to the rules, but he lets us use our gadgets in front of him so long as we complete our work properly and on time."

"What's your point?"

"It means that you finished your assignment, Streamer. As a favor, can I speed-read it to find out some dates about the war? Or you can tell me if you remember them?"

The teen groaned when she heard the name. "Geez, I hate that nickname. I thought that you of all people would actually call me by name since you hate when people mispronounce your name."

Mikhael smiled sheepishly. "…Verzeihung-… pardon me, but what was your name again? Everyone just calls you 'Streamer' because you always seem to be streaming something to watch. Your proper name's hardly ever used by anyone I know, so I can't even remember it."

"Sprite Penn. Now, what did you say that you wanted? To skim my project? Sorry, I turned in mine already. Besides, you normally finish your work before me, don't you?" She was actually pretending not to have heard his argument with Alvin in order to keep up appearances but seeing his flinching reaction only made her feel like she was throwing salt into his wounds. "You got paired with Alvin again, didn't you? Poor you."

"Yeah, but he's my… friend. A pity that his head's lacking the stuff it should have between his ears. Now could you tell me when the war started? And when Hitler committed suicide? That's all I really need right now." Sprite offered him the dates he wanted, which he graciously thanked her for. Out of the corner of her eyes, she watched him hurry back to his seat and scribbled the entries inside before continuing to re-work the entire project as best as he could. Soon, their History class had come to an end when the bell rang, signifying that it was lunchtime in the high school, but Mikhael didn't move and neither did she. Their classmates weren't of the same inclination, and they hurried to get the best of the food before it was finished, but the youth remained steadfast in his work.

Sprite herself knew that the work was his reason for staying behind, but she herself didn't know why she stayed. She didn't know if it was because of pity for his troubles, if she did out of guilt for not appearing more empathetic, or if she did it because he looked as if he would've liked having some company. She didn't know why, only that she did it, and every now and again she glanced at him to see him still working fastidiously over the project, toiling through the lunch hour.

Close to the end of the lunch hour, he finally stopped as soon as he grasped that he wasn't going to be able to improve the project anymore. Rubbing his fingers to get the cricks out, he spoke up and asked the girl who was still on her laptop if she wasn't going for lunch. He had inherently realized that she was keeping him company, seeing as the school's Wi-Fi internet signal was normally strongest in the library and in the lunchroom.

Feeling her stomach growl, she tried her best to ignore it. "The cafeteria isn't exactly the safest place to bring a laptop, after all. Food and drink everywhere."

"The best stuff is probably gone by now," the boy observed. "What were you watching that was so interesting? An anime? Hunter x Hunter, maybe?"

"No. Steven Universe."

Mikhael facepalmed himself. "Of course." He returned back to work, and kept on, and finally finished with fifteen minutes of the lunch hour to spare. "Great." He looked up back to Streamer who was shutting her laptop and told her thanks for the company.

It caught her unawares that he realized what she was doing, but she shrugged it off before she allowed it to embarrass her. "No problem, man. Still, I don't know why you put up with Alvin's crap sometimes. If you just had to edit his side of the work, then it means that you did the whole assignment by yourself. Again. You're too forgiving, I swear."

"Das machts nichts-…It doesn't matter. The school year's done anyway. I just have to turn the project over to Mr. Dracon, and then all I'll have is the dance to look forward to with Brittany tomorrow. Anyway, I have to go."

"Bye, Mikhael."

Packing up his things and the project in his hands, Streamer watched as the boy took off in a run through the door to get to the teacher's lounge.

"Doesn't it matter? Hey, Mikhael! Wait up!"

…

After knocking and letting themselves into the room, the two teens found the man inside drinking a cup of coffee while grading the other projects his students have already turned in.

"Oh? Penn? Raimund? What's that?" the History teacher asked before he observed the folder that the male of the two had in his hands. "The World War Two project that's overdue for three days?"

"Yes, but-"

"I'll grade it. But if it's not worth a hundred percent from the start, then it's basically a failing grade, given the fact that grades are deducted for each day late. Still better than zero, if you're one of those 'glass-is-half-full', kind of people. However, this project is responsible for a large chunk of your final grade, and if you fail this project, you've probably failed the entire course."

"Please understand, sir!" Sprite proffered her comment. "He was working with Alvin-" Before she could get any further, Mikhael shushed her by putting a finger over his own lips. "But-"

"Das machts nichts-… it doesn't matter. Just… never mind." The half-German returned his attention back to his teacher and gave him the project, who began leafing through it. "Is it a high fail, at least?"

"I suppose I'll let you know tonight, Raimund. But in honesty…" Mr. Dracon peered at a page, noting Alvin's sloppy handwriting in a particular section. "It doesn't seem like it. Certain details are incorrect… did your partner write this based on a movie?"

"No… a game," Mikhael said heatedly. "I'll let myself out."

"I'm sorry, Raimund, but I can't offer any more leeway due to the lack of punctuality for this project…?" The man looked up to see the boy about to leave. "Hey, are-"

"Das machts nichts -… It doesn't matter." Mikhael exited the room and shut the door behind him. Left alone in the room again, Mr. Dracon frowned as he thought of his student. He'd seem… disturbed, for lack of a better word. The teacher was aware that the boy didn't come from a nice home… in fact, it was a miserable one, but the boy had always found it in him to smile, even when he wasn't happy. Even his forced happiness looked legit up until now.

Just now, when the boy had answered in his usual phrase, Mr. Dracon had started to see cracks. "Didn't it matter?"

Sprite thought the same exact thing as let herself out as well.

~IT~

-"He looked depressed at lunchtime…"

Mikhael looked at the choice of organ meats, then back at the choice of thin porridge that looked like gruel, then considered the option of going hungry; he didn't have the benefit of having a home-cooked lunch like Sprite who had already gone to lunch table that was actually still clean. Yet, he soon ended up having to settle with a plate of over-cooked rice and lukewarm liver, and trudged this way and that, looking for a seat. Sprite hailed him from where she was to join her, and he gratefully accepted her invitation. "Thanks. I thought I'd end up having to eat standing up."

"Nah, man. It's cool." She peered down at his plate in mild disgust, trying her best to not recoil in shock. "Eugh. What is that?"

"It's organ meat. Liver, to be specific." The boy graced his food before he began eating. Taking care to swallow, he refrained from talking with his mouth full. "I only wish it wasn't room temperature."

"Room temperature? My main concern is that I'm not even sure if that's dead."

"I'm used to it. My grandfather and I eat venison all the time from the deer that he hunts, and I think that deer liver is high in protein."

"Your gramps hunts deer? Isn't it out of season right now?"

"I could tell him, but I don't want to go hungry." That's the least of a punishment he'd get if he affronted his grandfather. He still hadn't gotten a replacement for one of his molars that he'd lost when the man hit his jaw with a board. "Das machts nichts-…It doesn't matter." He felt a little better in his denial and resumed eating his lunch again. He didn't get too far, though as Alvin came over as soon as he noticed that his friend was in the lunchroom. Sprite could tell that Mikhael wasn't exactly pleased to see him, but Alvin seemed to be oblivious to this.

"Yo Michael! I knew you said that you were going to take a while, but I had no idea it was going to take you this long to get here! They were serving fried chicken earlier. I managed to save you a piece." The Seville then presented a burger box with the chicken that was assumed to be inside, but Raimund had much bigger issues on his mind-… much bigger than the pronunciation of his first name, or whether Alvin appeared considerate or not.

To his credit, however, Sprite noticed that the half-blood German managed to keep a lid on his emotions to avoid blowing up in anger. "I was turning in our project… you know, the one you did a half-assed job on. We're going to fail it. Look on the bright side…" Mikhael said sarcastically, "if we're lucky, we'll get a high fail."

"Geez, I thought I did great! I went in depth!"

"Ja-… yes, you sure did. You must have dug deep… and dragged that utter crap from the depths of your aft end. I'm going to fail this subject, and it's the only one that I actually like! Would it kill you to do your work when you're told? Don't you know that your actions have consequences that affect other people?"

"Don't jump down my throat, man. I'll make it up to you, I promise. Maybe I can convince Mr. Dracon to give you a bye since you were doing most of the work. I'll talk to him."

Mikhael stabbed a piece of liver with his fork. "Don't make promises that you can't keep, Alvin," he said before eating the piece of organ meat. "I know damn well that ever since Simon went to boarding school, you've been using me as a patsy; you're coasting on my efforts because I'm smart, yet I'm too stupid to realize it now that the school year has ended."

"Whoa, whoa," Alvin held up his hands as his eyes squinted in peeved annoyance. "You're really being insulting now." Mikhael thought a moment and deemed that he wasn't being as frank as he wanted to be without being disrespectful.

"Es tut mir leid-… I'm sorry. And if you're sorry about slacking off, go talk to Mr. Dracon."

"You know me, man, I'll talk to him." Eager to get away from the embarrassing development, Alvin walked as briskly as he could, exiting the cafeteria. The two teens watched him leave before returning to eating their lunches in silence.

"Um… I don't think he's going to talk to Mr. Dracon."

"I know he's not going to," Mikhael mumbled. "He's not that sorry, and I doubt if he's even slightly sorry at all."

Streamer gazed sidelong at her companion, wondering what she could say to make him feel better. She didn't get the chance to, as Mikhael slumped forward, resting his hand in his palm.

"Das machts nichts-…It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter."

~IT~

It takes more than one person to tell a story, and it can't be told from one side. This is about how the events (in the prelude) came to happen. Combined, from the perspectives of the Ocs, everyone tells the complete story.

Does everyone recognize themselves from the names/miscellaneous hints provided? Basically, every OC is a person I happen to know of (on this site, either by their profile info or simply by past conversation. Hope you had fun seeing yourselves! Today's character is Spirit Written. It's kinda obvious, but I hope you liked seeing yourself!

And about that 'Streamer' nickname. Sorry about that. Your profile kinda gave me that impression, LOL.

This is actually the only real fun part of the fic. The fic itself is actually going to be somber. I hope I don't botch it.

-Vos Mos Amplio.