Roderich closed the door behind him. "Go ahead, sit on the piano seat. I'll be there in a moment."
Ludwig did as he was told. Roderich stood at the door for a moment, just staring off into the molding. He then walked to Ludwig and sat with him.
"So, you wanted to talk with me?"
"Ludwig, how much of your childhood do you remember?" What an odd question to begin a conversation with.
"Not much," Now that he though about it, he didn't remember anything. "Nothing."
Roderich sighed. "That's what I thought."
"What do you mean? So what, a lot of people can't remember their childhoods."
"Yes, but most people can remember something, at least."
"What about you? What did you do as a child?"
"Well," He seemed very much taken aback by the question. "I guess, to say something, I used to love to hike. At least, when I lived in the Austrian mountains. We moved here when I was seven, and I guess… Well, I remember something, at least. You don't."
"Hold on…" Ludwig strained to remember something, anything. His face twisted in concentration, but nothing came to him. "Ah. I can't-"
"Stop, you'll hurt yourself. I didn't expect you to be able to, anyways."
"Why can't I?"
"You never noticed?"
"I never thought about it. I never needed to."
"You never needed to tell a story, from when you were little?"
"Nope."
"Wow." Roderich leaned back onto the piano, hitting many keys with his back, making both him and Ludwig jump. "Yah, crap." He turned and closed the cover over the keys, and leaned back again. Ludwig braced himself for a similar combination of notes to play, but it didn't. The disharmonic sound stayed in the room, reverberating off of the walls and through their ears.
"So," After the sound nearly vanished, Roderich turned to Ludwig. "Do you want me to tell you what happened in the most pleasing way I can, or do you want me to give it to you straight?"
"Huh?" Ludwig thought about it. Whatever he was going to say, it couldn't be good. Though, why sugar coat it? The same was going to come out of it. "I guess you should just tell it how it is."
"Okay." Roderich leaned forward, resting his forehead on his hand. Curled in on himself, he looked so tired, so distressed. "When you were little- Er, when Feliciano was little… You…" He couldn't speak. "I… I'm sorry. My mouth is dry. Do you want some tea? I need some tea."
"I guess I'll take some tea, thank you." Immediately after he said them, Ludwig regretted his words. Him having tea would mean Roderich would be gone longer than he needed to be. Right now, being alone was the last thing he wanted.
Roderich stood up. "Okay. I'll be back."
"Actually, could I just have some water?" That would spare a bit of time.
"Sure." He tried to walk out of the room with his usual confidence, but he stumbled over his own shaking legs.
As soon as he left the room, Ludwig turned around to face the piano and lifted the lid. He'd never even touched a piano, at least, not that he could remember. Selecting a random key, he played it and a very even sounding note come out. Pressing the black key next to it, then the white one after, he slowly worked his way up the scale until he reached the final note at the right end of the piano. He then turned his hand and worked backwards, down the scale, a bit quicker this time.
"Hey, I got your drink." Roderich nudged the door open with his hip and closed it behind him in the same manner. "Were you playing my piano?"
"Hmm? Uh, yes. Sorry."
"It's fine." He sat down with his friend and passed the drink. Ludwig noticed that he got water for himself, too, instead of tea. "Anyways, about you…" He took a sip of it. "And Feliciano… Well, when you two were little…" He took another. "Okay, I have no good way to put this."
"Lay it on me, I can take it."
"Oh, but can you?"
Ludwig ignored the warning tone in his voice. "Yes."
"Okay, if you're sure." Taking another sip, he said: "When you were little, you and Feliciano were good friends, and you lived nearby. He actually seemed to love you. Anyways, you always like the name Otto a lot better than Ludwig, and went by that, never bothering to tell him that Otto wasn't even your real name. I mean, first name. Ahh…" Roderich brought a palm to his forehead and grimaced, "I'm sorry…"
"It's okay. Slow down, take a break." Ludwig needed a rest himself, though as he sat and though about what he was told, more questions arrived:
How could I forget Feliciano?
He loved me?
Why didn't I tell him my first name?
Have I ever mentioned my middle name to him?
Who else-
His thoughts were interrupted when Roderich spoke again, after taking a drink. "As I said, you never mentioned your first name. But anyways, you two got along really well. One day, you went into town after playing with Feliciano for a bit. I didn't ask you why, though you were only ten, because you did this a lot. Probably just to get flour or something. But when night fell, Feliciano got worried. I told him you probably just went home. I thought you did, but I was also just trying…" He trailed off, and stared off into the nothingness, then to his glass. He took sip, lowered the glass for a moment, and then went for another. When he saw that his glass was empty, he stood up to go refill it.
Ludwig realized that he hadn't even touched his water. "You want mine?"
"N… Thanks." He took the cup and drank from it, sitting back down. "As I said, I thought you just went home, but I was worried, too. I was trying to reassure myself as well as Feliciano. You never left before saying goodbye. Ever. I just assumed you forgot for once."
"That night, when you didn't come back, we were really worried. But, we just continued out normal routine, assuming you were doing something that wasn't any of our business. Family matters, maybe. But no, when we switched on the news..." He cringed, as though the oncoming words physically hit him, and he was obviously struggling to hold back tears. Ludwig felt oddly calm, as though the story he was hearing was about a completely different person, a stranger to him.
"When we switched on the news that night, there was a man talking about finding the body of a small, blonde boy about the age of ten in the river. It was assumed that you drowned while bathing, because you didn't have cloths on, they were found upriver. They didn't have anything to identify you by, but we knew you immediately by your picture. Feliciano couldn't breath, he was crying so hard, and though I tried to stay calm, I knew that that was impossible. Elizabeta was there at the time, but she was so confused because she hardly knew you. She knew that you came over sometimes, but she couldn't put two and two together, and- and-" Roderich hunched over, holding his head in his hands. He looked as though he was about to vomit and his breathing was unreasonably quick.
"Whoa, calm down. Take a drink of water, breath." Ludwig put a hand on his friends' back, not knowing what else to do. Another moment to think, another flood of questions. He didn't bother to acknowledge them.
He sat back up, finishing his drink. "The doctors were able to revive you. With the lack of oxygen to your brain though, you forgot everything. To get away from everything, your family moved back to Germany. They didn't want to deal with memories of you dying. Your parents and I kept in touch, being good friends. Apparently, you had to re-learn everything. From speech, to family bonds, to your own personality, you forgot it all. I was so surprised that they didn't hate me, being the last one to see you alive and all. I'm also surprised to see that you came to be as intelligent as you are." Roderich gave a sideways glance at Ludwig, the corners of his mouth twitching upward into a slight smile. "I guess I could say that I'm proud." He stood up, "Well, I guess that's all I can tell you. That's all I know, anyways."
"Thanks." Ludwig stood up, too, and picked up the glass that Roderich had left on the floor as the other scurried out of the room.
To be continued...
