Changed

Chapter Two: Words and Colors

With the morning came the lights, and Ike's poor tired brain did its best to focus. What time is it? The same time they turn the lights on every morning. What's for breakfast? Porridge of some sort, as usual. Where am I, anyway? Okay, these questions are getting more idiotic by the minute. You're the same place you've been every morning for the last who-knows-how-long, all by your lones-

The conversation in Ike's head was brought to an abrupt end when Pit made his presence known with a bleary, "Morning."

Not long later, the guard arrived with breakfast. He stared a long time at Pit, and then glared accusingly at the single plastic bowl in his hands. With a sigh, he set the down by the enclosure, just out of Ike's reach, and departed from sight. Ike shot a sad look in the bowl's direction. When only a few minutes had passed, the guard returned with a second bowl, and pushed both through an opening in the barred door designed just for that purpose. As Ike happily jumped his bowl, he mentally thanked the man. Though he wasn't sure whether to pin him as a Changed-sympathizer or just someone who cared about doing his job well, Ike was rather grateful, especially since the guard had the insight to leave a straw with the second bowl, in light of the current position of Pit's hands.

He watched with a smile as the angel-boy greedily sucked up his porridge, amused at his youthful enthusiasm. Looking down at his own meal, Ike took a spoonful and blew softly on it, though more out of habit than anything. Ike felt like he was back at home. The mornings had always been blanketed in comfortable silences—Mist had never been much of a morning person. With her silent and focused on her food, Ike was given a chance to speak with his father. Some of his best memories of Greil consisted o those mornings, and of course training days at his father's dojo. To find such a feeling here… Ike was overwhelmed. He paused to take a deep breath, savoring the old memories with the new.

Pit watched Ike cautiously, interrupting only when he saw the older boy open his eyes again. "You look so serious, " he observed. "What are you thinking about?"

The bluenette turned to face the brunette. "My family," was the simple response. 'Family' seemed to have triggered some sort of response in the angel-boy because his face lit up and he immediately began pestering Ike with all sorts of questions.

"How many siblings do you have?"

"I have a younger sister named Mist."

"What's she like?"

"She's a good kid."

"Does she look like you?"

"Her hair is brown, like my dad's, but her eyes are blue like mine," Ike paused here, eyes furrowing as if he remembered something else. "And we're often told that we have our mother's nose."

Pit peered at him with eyes like sparkling waves. "She must have been beautiful."

"I honestly don't know. I really don't remember her all that well," was the reply. "She died when Mist and I were young."

"I'm sorry Ike." The words were genuine.

"Don't fret over it. I've long gotten over it. Besides, my dad's always been there to look out for us."

"I'm glad," again, authentic and genuine words.

Realizing the topic had dried up, Ike quickly inquired about Pit's family.

"I have a twin brother!" The boy declared exuberantly.

Eyebrows raised. "So do you guys look identical?"

"We were, but after becoming Changed, his whole complexion went a bit darker. His eyes changed to a red-orange and his hair is just a shade darker than mine. When we don't stand next to each other, you can't tell the difference. But the coolest part of it all is that instead of getting pretty white wings like me, he wound up with black ones! They're not an ugly black-brown, but rather they're so black that they shine blue in the sun, like a raven! They make him look so dark and mysterious, it's a wonder all the girls in my village didn't fall head-over-heels for him!" The boy chattered away happily.

Hmm… a brother complex, Ike mused. "So does this wonderful brother of yours have a name?"

"Lethr! (1)"

"What about your parents?"

"Never had any," The boy replied with a shrug. "We were found as babies on the steps of the Temple of the Sky Goddess, Palutena. The priests and priestesses there took us in and raised us."

"It must have been rough." Ike eyed the boy with newfound respect. He knew what it was like to lack a parent—to be looked down and pitied, but to have no parents at all?

"It wasn't all that bad. Lethr was always there to protect me, and the temple people treated us well. The village people were real nice too… until we Changed that was. They burned down the temple and tried to kill us. It's amazing what people are capable of." There was a tang of bitterness in Pit's voice, and his distantly focused eyes burned with some unknown emotion. "Lethr says it's because we're the only ones in the village who ended up changed after breathing in the miasma. Everyone else died. Lethr says it's just because we were lucky, and it's not our fault that we didn't die too. But that's not what the villagers thought…" His tale finished, the angel-boy stared blankly at the dreary cell. Ike reached over, placing a cuffed hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Hey," Ike began quietly. "Not everyone's like that."

Pit made eye contact, holding Ike's blue eyes like he was searching for something. "No," was the response. "They're not."

A silence settled in. It was the quiet of heavy breathing after success in a hard fought battle. It was that awkward familiarity of hugging someone you've just met. It was the silence of a new friendship, growing steadily in the soil. To tell the truth, Ike didn't mind this silence all that much.

"Say, Ike," Pit began out of the blue like a Japanese kamikaze fighter plane with its eyes set on a nearby battleship. "How'd you end up in here? I mean, you're normal enough. There aren't any weird wings popping out of your back or anything."

In the few moments Ike was given before he was expected to respond, a hurricane of thoughts whipped through his mind.

He had always found it easier to trust, tan to distrust. He would rather put his faith in someone than turn them away with a frown. It was what his father had always done—choosing to let students train for weeks at his dojo without payment. Though a few here and there had run off without paying a penny, most repaid their debts in double, becoming masters along the way. Not only the dojo, but the whole village used this principle. With everyone respected and trusted, Ike never had anything to hide.

After being captured and imprisoned, he had gotten slightly more pessimistic, but remained confident with his appearance and attributes. He saw nothing wrong with being Changed. One attempted escape attempt, three different prisons, and an innumerable number of beatings later, his views had been tweaked, just a bit. It was better to blend in than stand out. It was better to be human than flaunt who you were. It was better to be nonexistent. He had been given the abused clothes with this philosophy. "This way you can blend in," he was told. "This way you can survive." And survival was the only thing way he was going to see his father and Mist again.

With Pit staring at him expectantly, Ike was at a loss of what to say. Even after the angel-boy had placed his whole world in Ike's palms, and entrusted him with his pains, Ike didn't know if he could even tell the boy what he really was. The choice was right in front of him. Here was the decision that would shape the leftovers of his life. He could be true to himself, and be ready for the pain, or protect himself, and abandon the warmth of his fellows.

He blinked, and for a moment, it was as Mist was sitting next to him, instead of Pit. The decision was instantaneous then. Slowly, almost tentatively, he reached up for his beanie, before pulling it completely fro his head.

(1) – Yes, Lethr (pronounced Leh-thee-ur) is Kuro/Fallen/Dark/whatever Pit. Since he's going to play a major part later on, I felt it would be only fair if he was given a real name. The characters which make up the Japanese word black are 'ku' and 'ro'. In hiragana 'ku' looks kind of like 'less than' and 'ro' looks kind of like '3'. Put them together and you get less than three. By stealing the first piece of each character I was able to create Le-thr. Yay.