- Chapter Two -

- Fly Me Away -


When I was old enough, they enrolled me in school. Thanks to the older boys from the orphanage, everyone there soon learned about her and my past. They all taunted me endlessly.

"Look, it's the druggie's boy!"

"Hey, do you do drugs just like your druggie mom?"

"Here comes the druggie's bastard!"

I was too young to understand their words, though I could understand the malice behind them clear as day. One time, I walked up to a teacher, whose job was to educate us, and asked her, "What do the other boys mean when they say 'druggie'?"

The boys got detention and disciplined, but my questions went unanswered. I repeated them over and over for a week, but all they did was ignore me.

Then they got tired of me and they threatened punishment if I kept bothering them.

"Losers get punished, sweetie pie."

I stopped asking and willed myself to fade into the background. But the other boys were like sharks, and they tasted blood in the water. Once they were locked onto their target, they wouldn't relent.


Looking back, you might say what happened next was the moment that would change my life.


It was recess in May. School was due to be out soon, though it didn't matter much to me. I'd still be attacked by the boys at the orphanage.

I was sitting on a bench, my Gameboy in my hands, as far away from the other children as I could get. It wasn't far enough, though.

"How's the druggie's bastard doing today?"

I ignored the three older boys who came over, tensing myself as I spotted the malice in their eyes. I continued playing on my Gameboy.

"Did your druggie mom buy that for you? No, wait, she probably stole it since she used all her money for drugs!"

The other two boys broke down with laughter. I continued ignoring them. Their words didn't hurt, because they didn't know her like I did.

"Hey, you little bastard, answer me!" The ringleader demanded, growling.

They wouldn't get anything from me.

Then, they tore the Gameboy from my hands and threw it to the ground. I lunged after it, but the other two boys held me back. The ringleader smiled at me, eyes mocking. He raised his sneaker clad foot and then brought it down onto the device. I could hear it crunch and I screamed.

"STOP IT!"

They all laughed and he brought his foot down over and over. I howled like a dying animal, attracting the attention of students and teachers alike. The kids rooted for the boys.

"Yeah, teach him a lesson!"

"Crunch that damn thing to bits!"

The teachers came over a moment later, hauling the boys off for the detentions they would no doubt be getting, but the damage was done. My Gameboy lay on the ground in a million shattered pieces.

The Gameboy was the only memento of my past that I had. I knelt on the ground, holding the broken remains, as the rest of the children dispersed, laughing to each other. I felt the urge to cry rise up in me.

"Fucking crybaby, always crying. Man the fuck up! No son of mine will cry."

I did not cry.

But I did get an idea. I collected the broken pieces and tucked them safely away into my backpack. When I got back to the orphanage, I waited until everyone else was asleep so I could sneak quietly into the junk room, the place where all old mechanical equipment was kept, and where mechanical toys went to die.

There was also an assortment of tools I'd be able to use.

I got the broken Gameboy out of my bag and went to work.


A week later, I was sitting on the bench again, the one as far from the other children as possible.

I held my Gameboy in my hands, the console working like it'd never been broken in the first place.


After that, I was engulfed by the allure of technology. I could fix anything with a circuit, I could beat any video game placed in front of me with relative ease, and soon I became the one to go to when you needed something fixed.

The summer vacation before my first grade year is when my newly formed interests paid off.


I was sitting on my bed, playing another game on my Gameboy, when one of the orphanage assistants walked into the room.

The importance of this action was that whenever one of the assistants would come into our room, it meant someone was interested in adopting you.

The woman, a somewhat plain blonde with brown eyes, scanned the room until her gaze landed on me. She walked past everyone else and stopped beside my bed.

"Mail, please come with me."

I'd never had an assistant come up to me before. No one had ever taken enough interest. I was someone who was meant to stay in the shadows, unnoticed.

I immediately closed the game with the knowledge I'd be able to make my progress back with ease, and got up to follow the assistant. As I followed her, I saw the looks of jealously on the other boys' faces. They filled me with glee.

I'm not the type to hope, but at that moment I remember wishing with all my heart that I'd be able to leave.

In the reception area, there an older man with graying hair talking to another orphanage assistant. I knew all of the people who worked there, so I immediately knew he was the one interested in me.

"Here he is, sir." The blonde announced, and the old man turned to look at me. He smiled, and unlike her's it was warm and welcoming. I tried to smile back, but it probably looked like a grimace thanks to the fact I'd smiled very little before then.

"Hello there, son, my name is Watari. What's yours?" He greeted, kneeling down so he could be on my level. I could detect a slight accent in the way he talked.

"Mail." I answered after a moment. "But… didn't you already know that? You're the one who asked for me." I questioned. I heard both assistants take a sharp intake of breath, and the blond was about to say something when Watari held up a hand.

"No need to scold him. He's a children, he should be allowed to question things." I decided that I liked Watari. He turned away from the assistants and looked fully at me. "Especially if they're going to be one of my pupils."

"Pupils?"

"Yes, that's right. You see, Mail, I've heard of your gift with technology, and how you're exceptionally smart for a child of your age." He explained. "I'm interested in taking you to Wammy's House, an organization that takes gifted children and helps them unlock their true potential."

I was skeptical. It sounded like every school logo ever said.

Watari saw the skepticism on my face. "…Mail, have you ever heard of L?"

"Of course I have!" I replied immediately. Who hadn't heard of the world famous detective L?

"Well, did you know that he was found and brought to Wammy's House as a child? I helped L unleash his potential, just as I will yours."

I had nothing to lose, and it'd get me away from the orphanage where I was under constant attack from the other boys.

"Ok."


The adoption didn't take long, and by that night I was on a plane to England, where Wammy's House was located.

For a long time I watched the city below us grow smaller and smaller until there was nothing but clouds.

"Mail, have you ever had a candy bar before?" Watari asked, taking me off guard. I turned away from the window to look at the older man.

"…No." She never let me have chocolate.

"Really? Well now, that's a crime against childhood isn't it? Here, Mail, consider it a 'bon voyage' gift." He held out something wrapped with a shiny material and I gently took it from his hand. I examined it for a moment.

"Winners get prizes, and so do good boys. Too bad you're not a winner or a good boy, so put the damn candy back, Mail."

"Are you sure?" I asked uncertainly.

"Of course." Then the man went back to reading the book he'd brought on board with him.

She'd left me, so she no longer had any control over whether or not I could eat the candy. I unwrapped the bar carefully and sat there staring at it for a few seconds before I tore into it.

It tasted like heaven and freedom.


I must've fallen asleep on the plane, because the next thing I knew my head banged up against something hard and I was jolted awake. I sat up and quickly took in my surroundings. I was in a car, and we were apparently on a pretty bumpy road.

Up front sat a man in the driver's seat who looked a little younger than Watari, and then Watari sat beside him in the passenger's seat. The radio was turned on at a soft volume and the sound was soothing.

"When did the plane land?" I voiced. The man driving jumped, and the car swerved slightly, but Watari didn't seem to be phased.

"It landed about an hour or so ago. You were sleeping rather soundly, and since I didn't want to wake you I just carried you out." At my look of concern, he added, "I'm not as frail as I look, Mail, and you happen to be extremely light."

"I'm sorry about falling asleep." I apologized sheepishly.

"Don't be, Mail," Watari dismissed, "you need your rest. We have a lot to do once we reach Wammy's."

"Like what?" I decided to ask, curiosity getting the best of me.

"First of all, we'll get you settled into your new room. Every child at Wammy's has a room, but whether or not you'll have a roommate or get an empty room is uncertain." He answered. "Then, you'll be going out shopping with Roger for some basic items like clothes and personal care products."

It sounded wonderful to me! The clothes on my back and my Gameboy were the only things I brought from the orphanage.

"After that, you'll go through some testing, just to see what classes you'll be taking and to see if we'll need to call in a expert. That'll most likely be tomorrow, though."

Then the car went over a hill and I could see a building in the distance. Other than the gray fence that surrounded it, I couldn't find the words to describe it.

"Welcome to Wammy's House, Mail."


It was midday when I first took a step inside of the place that would become my home for the next ten years.

Watari led the way inside and I followed close on his heels. The other man, Roger, came in last. We walked into a room that resembled the reception area at the orphanage. Watari walked through a door on the other side of a large desk and motioned for me to follow.

Then we were in what I assumed was Watari's office.

"Did you sort out the rooming arrangement, Roger?" Watari asked as the other man walked into the room.

"Ah, yes I did, sir. Along with the things you asked me to get."

I looked around the room while the two adults talked. There wasn't anything very interesting so I simply dug my Gameboy from my jacket pocket and started it up.

After about what seemed like 30 or so minutes, they were finally done talking.

"Sorry we kept you waiting, Mail, now let's get you to your new room." I perked up and eagerly followed the two men out of the room.

For the most part I zoned out, but I resurfaced enough to learn where the major rooms of the house were and where the door to the courtyard was. And, apparently, that all the children lived upstairs.

At the top of the staircase I immediately noticed that there was a long hallway-like room with a security camera at the end of it along with two doors. The signs above the doors read 'Boy's Bathrooms' and 'Girl's Bathrooms'.

"Why do you have a security camera?" I finally asked, eyes going back to the little device. Watari chuckled.

"Well, you see Mail, we had an incident a few years ago with one of the boys," Watari started, and I saw a fond glint in his eyes, "he got up in the middle of the night and snuck down to the kitchen and ate all the sweets he could get his hands on! Since we'd just gotten groceries, there were no sweets in the house for weeks!"

I giggled at the story since it sounded so strange.

"Now, without anymore delay, to your room." Watari said after I got my laughter in.

We turned left and headed into the boy's section of rooms. I glanced at the nametags outside of each door and immediately got confused.

Dan. Rain.

Leo. John.

There was no last names.

"Here we are, Mail, your new room." The old man commented, pulling my attention away from the names of the other boys. We were standing in front of a door with no nametags on it. "For the time being, you won't have a roommate." He explained, turning the door handle and then swinging it open.

I darted inside and looked around excitedly.

The room itself was painted dark brown with a caramel brown rug.

Against the wall to my left were two beds pre-made with dark red and black plaid blankets. Between the beds was a table with a large lamp on it.

To the left of the beds, against the wall where the door was, were two desks with their own little lamps. There was a framed painting hung above them, but it didn't hold any meaning in the world of a six year-old boy.

To my right was a decent sized TV that sat inside its own little TV set. In front of the TV stood a coffee table and two beanbag chairs.

Finally, on the wall opposite the door was a rather large window with heavy red curtains pulled back to let in the sunlight.

"You get to pick whichever bed you want, Mail." Watari said and I jumped. I'd been so absorbed in taking in my new room that I'd forgotten he was even there.

"I've never had a room before…" I murmured softly. I could tell that the old man hadn't heard. Tears were pricking at my eyes.

"Fucking crybaby, always crying. Man the fuck up! No son of mine will cry."

I forced the tears away and smiled at Watari and Roger.

"I love it."


- Save game?

- No / Yes

- Gamed saved.


Author's Note

Annnnnd there's chapter two! It was fun rewriting this as the old version was cluttered with unnecessary details that I didn't like.

For the reviewer who wanted to know the name of the book Mail's mom is based on, the book title is 'The Rules of Survival' by Nancy Werlin.

Thanks for reading!

-theMasqueradeofHonor