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Written for Laven Week, Day 1: Culture(2nd attempt).

"Mr. Allen, Mr. Mana is waiting for you in his office," said Toma, the butler who worked for the Walker family.

The albino boy left his blue crayon on the table and followed the older man, asking himself what his father would possibly want to discuss with him. He was only called to the office when they needed to have a 'serious talk', and that haven't happened a lot during the five years he lived at that house.

After passing some corridors with walls full of circus-themed paintings, they reached a semi-closed wooden door. The butler politely knocked.

"Thank you, Toma, I'll take it from now on. Allen, come in."

The butler obeyed, and went back to the library to finish his duties. The little kid walked into the office and sat on an armchair in front of his father's desk.

"Allen, I have an important meeting today with an old friend. He is coming from a very distant place, and I haven't seen him for a long time, so he will be our guest for some time."

Allen froze. It was almost a rule in that house, there were no guests. No one there to see the freak he was. When visitors came to see his father, he would hide in his room and wait for Toma to call him downstairs when they were gone. He didn't go to school like normal boys did, so he wouldn't face the stares. Instead, he had a particular teacher who went to his house. Mana was dealing just fine with his reclusion, wasn't he? Why now? He knew the boy's parents left him because he was different. Then why?

Mana got up his chair and kneeled beside his child, the worry clear on his face.

"Son, I'm sorry, but I thought it was about time for you to meet new people. They will be nice to you, I promise!"

They? That was the question in Allen's mind, and he voiced it.

"Yes, my friend has adopted a kid too, and he's around your age. Don't worry, everything will be fine."

"But Dad… They will think I'm weird!"

The younger was almost crying, so his father pulled him into a hug.

"Now, I am positive they will treat you fine. And one more thing, someday you will have to go to school, you can't hide forever."

"Yes, I can" Was the answer.

"No, you can't. Now, they will arrive around dinner time, which is," he then looked at his pocket watch "three hours from now. You better take a bath and dress up to meet our friends, right?"

The boy nodded sadly, and headed to the door. Before he left the room, though, he tilted his head and gave Mana a nervous look.

"Father… What should I wear?"

Mana chuckled, and answered.

"Anything you feel comfortable with, now go, I have to choose the menu for tonight."

The boy then left for his room.

…

Allen looked at himself in the mirror. It was not bad. A little hot, maybe, but comfortable. He glanced overf his outfit and then heard voices downstairs. The guests had arrived.

He left his room and walked through the corridor, stopping when he reached the stairs. He looked down at the main hall, and saw his father, who was talking to a short old man with an unusual haircut. Beside the man, there was a red haired boy, looking a bit older than him. The boy was looking at Mana, but his gaze went to the kid standing upstairs. He tugged his father's coat and whispered something into his ear. The old man looked at Allen and then turned to Mana.

"Mana, is that your son?"

The said man looked back and saw the boy wearing one of his coats and a top hat that hid his white hair.

"Allen, come here."

The boy shyly went down the stairs, and once he got to the first floor, he hid behind his father.

"Allen. The hat."

The boy struggled a little, but left his hair to be seen.

"And the coat."

The boy unwillingly took the coat off and handed it to his father, closing his eyes.

Now he was exposed, with his red arm and white hair being shown to people he didn't know. He slowly lifted his head, waiting to see scorn expressions on the visitors' faces. But it was not there. Instead, in front of him there was the old man's kid, with a hand held in front of him.

"Hello, I'm Lavi. Your name is Allen, right?"

He wasn't expecting him to be nice. Awkwardly, he shook the other's hand, being patted on his head by his father.

"Son, they are Charles¹ and Lavi Bookman. They are-"

"Storytellers! Isn't that great? The old man and I travel around Europe and get paid for telling people the stories and tales we know. Isn't that amazing?"

Allen smiled to the boy, while the man called Charles apologized to Mana.

"Please forgive the kid. He is too talkative, and interrupts people sometimes."

"No worries, old friend. I know how kids like talking. Now, should we head to the dinner room? Our meal is waiting for us."

The adults called their children and they all followed Mana.

…

The night went on without any worries, the boys got along well. Allen was amazed by Lavi's knowledge of tales and myths, and, on the other hand, Lavi was amused by Allen's appetite. The adults talked about their lives as parents, business, politics and life in general. After the dessert – which Allen ate more than once – Mana told them to go upstairs. It was time for good boys go to bed.

They didn't even complain, as both were tired of hearing that boring 'adult talk'. At least, at Allen's room, they could talk about important matters, like the story Lavi promised to tell Allen, about a boy and a bean sprout.

…

"So, Lavi, you know a lot of stories from different countries, right? Different cultures?"

They were at Allen's room's floor, holding their pillows and watching the fireplace.

"Yes, I've been to different places, and I always hear and record new stories in my mind. Including 'Jack and the Bean Sprout'²".

Allen smiled and turned to face the other boy.

"Can you tell me this one?"

"Sure!" He cleaned his throat and turned to look into the other's eyes. "Once upon a time, there was a poor boy called Jack. One day, his mother told him to go to the village's fair to sell their cow, so they could make some money. When he got there, no one would buy his cow. They said it looked too skinny and old. The boy was almost giving up, but a man stopped him on his way home.

'Hello, boy' the man said. 'Is this cow on sale?' Jack got extremely happy, and confirmed.

'Then, how much is it?'

'Anything you can pay, Mr. But please, don't let me get home empty-handed.', the boy begged.

'Then, take these seven magic beans. If you take care of them, they will give you lots of gold'." And the story went on, amusing the now smiling kid until he fell asleep.

…

And then, night after night, Allen would listen to a story and learn how people lived in other countries, how they behaved and what they believed in. But then two weeks passed, and Bookman had business to do somewhere in Asia. The time for saying goodbye had come.

Allen shook Bookman's hand solemnly, his head low. Mana could have laughed at this young boy, trying to look like an adult, but the circumstances didn't let him. Lavi was the first "outsider" to whom Allen opened up. He was his son's best friend, and was now leaving.

The boy looked at his best friend. What was he supposed to do now? Shake his hand? Hug him? He didn't know what to do, what to say. How did people behave around friends? He sighed and looked his friend in the eye. He opened his mouth in an attempt to say goodbye, but was stopped when Lavi hugged him.

The eye-patch boy kissed his friend on both cheeks and chuckled.

"This is how the French say goodbye, Allen"

With this, they smiled at each other, in a silent promise that they would be together again. Because their friendship was wider than all the culture in the world.

…

¹Refers to Charles Perrault, 'creator' of Little Red-Riding-Hood - Well, the guy needed a name

²I put a piece of the story, for those who don't know it (though who never heard this tale didn't have a real childhood)

A.N.: Waa, I liked it. It's not as good as I expected it to be, but definitely better than the other. Review, please. I'll do my best to put the other chapters here soon.

Ja ne~