Career Day.

If there was one day that Matthew could have pinpointed and changed to make things better, this dreaded day would have been his first choice.

There were moments in life—Matthew later realized—when just a simple ten minutes could change the course of a lifetime. Those crucial, fleeting moments, were always the most regretted because in them lied an implanted and everlasting sense of hope that assured one that they could go back and fix that nearly microscopic interval of time that poisoned the events of years to follow. Ten minutes.

Ten minutes that could not be recovered.

The very thought of this helplessness seemed to sap at Matthew's sanity.

The day had started out innocently enough; Arthur had rushed him to the car, unwilling to leave Alfred unsupervised in the house for any extra time than necessary. Then, Matthew loaded himself into the backseat with his backpack and trusty polar bear by his side, head resting against the window as the car rolled into motion, and he watched the sleepy bodies on the street reluctantly leave behind the comfort of their homes to get to work on time.

They arrived punctually, and Matthew immediately hopped out of the car, double checking to make sure he had all of his belongings before turning back to Arthur so that they could properly part ways. They exchanged their usual hug, and Arthur flashed him a tender smile as they stood in the fresh morning air with the sound of playing children reverberating around them in the warm sunshine.

"Enjoy your day," Arthur had told him mildly, reaching out and clasping Matthew's hand in his own. "And try to have fun, yes?"

Matthew nodded listlessly, eyes drifting to the girls playing hopscotch at the edge of the schoolyard. "I'll try."

"There's a good lad."

A reassuring squeeze met his hand before Arthur finally let go, waving goodbye to him and making sure he was safely within the school's grounds before getting back inside of the car and returning home.

Matthew walked through the front doors, hands wrapped around the straps of his backpack before finding his seat in the corner of the classroom just before the bell rang to signify the start of the day. He withdrew a sharpened pencil and his notebook, quietly watching as his peers filed through the door, happily chattering before filling in the previously empty rows of desks.

Mr. Densen weaved his way through the crowd of smaller bodies, his usual grin already plastered on his face as he stood at the head of the room and erased the blackboard. Shortly after, he took the attendance, furrowing as his eyes took note of the empty desk in the center row.

"Alfred? Is Alfred here today?" he asked, meeting Matthew's gaze for a confirmation.

Matthew merely shook his head, cheeks burning as the class redirected their attention to him. "No, he's sick," he replied softly, lowering his head and pretending to immerse himself in his notebook.

"Oh, well, we wish him a speedy recovery," Mr. Densen commented before returning his focus to the day's agenda. "Class, we have a very special visitor joining us today for Career Day. He should be here any moment, so let's give him a warm welcome, okay?"

Another round of chatter rose up for a few minutes before two figures hovered behind the classroom door, knocking loudly to be invited inside. As Mr. Densen allowed the guests to enter, Matthew noted that the principal, Mr. Edelstein, was accompanied by a man of average height and nearly shoulder length hair who couldn't seem to stand in one place for too long.

The three adults exchanged a few whispered words before Mr. Densen faced the class once more. "Class, please welcome Detective Feliks Łukasiewicz, who has come to tell us a little bit about his field of work today."

A sloppy round of applause filled the room, and the restless man crossed the room, pulling out a shiny badge along with a pair of handcuffs for the class to see.

"Pass those around the room so everyone can see, but don't get stuck in the handcuffs because I don't have the key for them right now," the detective remarked so casually to the point where Matthew wasn't sure if the man was joking or not.

Matthew held the pair of stainless steel handcuffs in his hands as they were passed to him, noticing how heavy they were before inspecting the accompanying badge. It seemed pretty flimsy and lightweight for having such an important value. He noted the official emblem of the New York City Police Department before passing on the articles, listening intently to the man as he began his lecture.

"Being a detective is all about thinking outside the box," he started, pacing back and forth as he made eye contact with a few of the children before his eyes fell on Matthew. "You can't listen to what other people tell you. It doesn't matter what Mary, Jane, and John say at the end of the day. You need to know what you are looking for. You have to pick out the lies out of the gossip."

Matthew took a deep breath, shyly regarding the man's light green eyes that were much less piercing than Arthur's. The man seemed to have a sort of enticing and friendly charisma about him, which seemed a little unusual to Matthew, considering that his mental image of a detective usually revolved around someone tall and foreboding.

"There is no formula for getting things right when you work in law enforcement," Feliks continued, breaking his eyes away from Matthew and moving on to his next victim. "So, you have to figure out what to do on your own because if you don't, then you can end up putting someone else's life at risk for letting whatever Mary, Jane, and John say distract you from finding your guy."

Matthew frowned, folding his hands on his desk. There was no way he could ever be a detective since he had so much trouble merely talking to people. Maybe that was why this detective had such a friendly aura around him—it was part of his act. If he acted like he was casual and easy to be around with everybody, then he could get whatever information he wanted through sheer manipulation.

Matthew couldn't help but admire the thought.

"You have to blend in, and you have to be cool," Feliks murmured with a little smile. "You have to use Mary, Jane, and John to get to the real criminal. You don't question Mary and John, but you break Jane because once you break Jane, the rest of the story will find its way to you. You don't go looking for information; you let the information come to you. Like, if I'm looking for a rich guy who I think is involved in some sort of crime, I don't go to him for any answers until it's a last resort. Do you know who I interrogate first?"

A hushed set of whispers and debate fluttered through the classroom for a moment and Feliks smiled, his eyes falling back to Matthew's spot in the corner. "I ask his garbage man or maid, someone who is at the bottom of the pyramid. You can tell a lot about a guy by the way he treats his workers."

Matthew narrowed his eyes in thought, holding the man's steady gaze.

"It's these little things," Feliks punctuated, "that matter the most. It's these little traces that can't be covered up… Those are the things that effect the case; they are what make the biggest difference."

'The little things,' Matthew thought.

Like 10 minutes soaked in mistakes.


"The scale of his figure compared to the others in the drawing shows insecurity. I think Matthew is simply overwhelmed at the moment, and he should be just fine after having some time to adjust a bit more. Try to encourage him to be more interactive with others, and reward him for making small efforts at being sociable. Likewise, it's clear to me that Matthew is grieving over the loss of his mother and the broken connection between him and his father. This is to be expected, and again, should get better with time. Enrolling him in a club or sports team might help him to make new friends. However, there is something even more curious about what Matthew drew for me…"

"And what might that be?" Arthur queried Elizabeta as he balanced his cellphone between his neck and shoulder while folding the laundry.

He could practically hear the woman smiling on the other side of the line, her tone growing more airy as she sculpted her reply. "He drew you. Most children aren't so quick to accept a new family figure into their lives so quickly, especially those who suffer from mild to moderate separation anxiety such as Matthew."

Arthur felt a melancholy smile reach his lips before he sighed into the phone. "Should I do anything with the bear? Is it okay for him to be so attached to certain objects and memories?"

"That shouldn't be a problem since he's still so young. Be understanding of his feelings of attachment and if it ever does get out of hand, sit down and talk with him about the issue. You can set limits for him if it ever does get to a point that you think it will hinder him from daily activities," Elizabeta recommended, professional yet sympathetic at the same time.

Arthur made an affirmative sound, smoothing out a wrinkle in one of the boys' t-shirts. "All right then, but I think it would be best if Matthew didn't attend any more sessions. He awfully despises them and views them as some sort of punishment, so I don't want to arrange any more visits unless it's absolutely necessary."

"I agree and completely understand," Elizabeta reassured. "If you ever have any questions or concerns, I'll always be capable of setting aside some time to talk. Also, Matthew is welcome to return if the need ever arises."

"Thank you," Arthur responded gratefully, "and I'll be sure to contact you if there's a problem."

"I'm happy to have helped. Take care, Arthur."

"Goodbye."

Arthur set his phone down, mulling over the information Elizabeta had shared with him before finishing up with the pile of clothes that he had been working with. He brought his and Matthew's clothes into their respective rooms, deciding to sort Alfred's clothes after the boy had awakened from his sleep.

He then headed into the living room, opening a window to let in some fresh air before turning on the small radio on one of his book shelves, allowing a bit of quiet music to fill the otherwise silent room.

He was unused to silence now, and found it rather unnerving at times. The boys were always filling the house with life, and whenever he was finally presented with golden nothingness, he grew a bit apprehensive. Silence in the house usually meant that something was disorderly, so he made note to always have some white noise to keep his mind at ease.

He used to enjoy music quite a bit before he'd become consumed in work. After medical school, little niceties had been swept under the table.

Hearing a familiar song buzz in the background, he hummed the lyrics quietly to himself, almost surprised by his own singing voice after not hearing it in such a long span of time. He felt the breath rush from his lungs as he whispered the words into the pleasant morning.

"And after all, you're my wonderwall…"

"What are you singing?"

Arthur nearly jumped out of his skin, banging his knee on the coffee table in bewilderment. He grimaced, rubbing the area briskly for a moment before swiveling his head around to acknowledge the untimely trespasser.

"Why is it that you're always wandering out of bed?" he asked the disobedient child, looking stern. "I thought you were aware that you weren't attending school today; you're welcome to sleep in."

Alfred crossed his arms, flushed face looking quite annoyed. "I'm sick of sleeping. I want to do something. Besides, you didn't answer my question! What were you singing?"

"It's…It's a song from an English rock band that used to be rather popular," Arthur finally murmured, reminiscing.

"So, why'd you stop?"

Arthur brought a hand to his wrist, checking his pulse just to be on the safe side after that adrenaline rush. "Because you very nearly gave me a heart attack, that's why, you little nipper."

Alfred smiled mischievously, cocking his head to the side as he tried to catch the melody and the words of the song playing from the radio.

"Maybe, you're gonna be the one that saves me…"

"Sorry, I was bored," he finally told Arthur.

His caretaker smirked sardonically, guiding the boy into the kitchen for breakfast. "Ah, yes, boredom is one of life's greatest inflictions for a child, but believe me, one day you're going to wish you had the privilege of being bored every once in a while."

"Why would I want that?"

"Because, my boy, life can get quite chaotic and ravenous at times."

Alfred grinned, reaching for a box of cereal. "I can handle it!"

"There's no doubt that you will," Arthur murmured, eyes warm and bright as he allowed Alfred to pour his own milk into the bowl, inviting the inevitable mess that would result in his actions.


Recess was less lively than usual, and Matthew couldn't help but wonder if it had anything to do with Alfred's absence. His twin always had a crowd of students flocking around him, stealing their attention as he came up with wild games to play.

However, today the other boys seemed to be a little lost, never settling on one part of the school yard for too long before transitioning to another area.

At first, Matthew didn't see this as much of a problem. He took his usual spot beside the monkey-bars, sitting on the ground and killing time as he waited for the bell to ring so that he could go back inside. Be that as it may, it soon became blatantly obvious that the other boys had an insatiable hunger for some entertainment, and were simply looking for a source that could provide them with what they were yearning to obtain.

And Matthew, being rather unlucky and looking too much like his rambunctious counterpart, fell victim to their little hunting group.

He tried to ignore the four boys who walked up to him at first, picking some lint off of Kumajirou and hoping that they would get the hint that he wasn't interested and would leave, but no such luck.

"Hey, you're Matthew, right? Alfred's brother?" one of them asked him rather loudly.

Matthew bit his lip and simply clutched his bear more firmly, keeping his head directed at his shoes. "Yeah."

Suddenly, he remembered what Arthur had told him about trying to be more talkative and open, so he dared to make eye contact with the boy who was speaking to him, instantly regretting the gesture as his classmate sent him an intimidating look that didn't seem friendly or compassionate at all.

"What's with the bear? Why do you carry him around all the time?"

Matthew dug his nails into the polar bear's fabric, inwardly pleading that someone would save him from the confrontation. "My mom gave him to me."

"That's weird. Only little kids carry their toys around to school with them," one of the other boys piped in.

Matthew scowled, ignoring the comment as he stood up and feigned interest in the monkey-bars. He swung from one of them with one arm, Kumajirou safely secured in the other.

"You're nothing like Alfred."

"So?" Matthew backfired, eyes cold. "Who said I have to be like him?"

The boy quickly changed subjects, and Matthew noticed something threatening in those brown eyes that made his stomach sink. "Can I see the bear?"

"No, he's mine."

"Don't you know how to share? I'm going to tell the teacher!"

Matthew assured himself that the boy was just bluffing and continued to swing on the monkey-bars, eyes directed at the fence of the schoolyard just a little distance in front of him.

"I'm talking to you!" the boy went on, separating himself from the other three and making a movement to snatch Kumajirou out of Matthew's hand.

Matthew winced instinctively as the boy drew himself closer. "No, you can't have him!"

And then, he felt a pair of hands ram into his side, causing him to lose his grip on the monkey-bars and Kumajirou before falling onto the hard rubber pads below. His elbow made impact with the ground first, which ended up in him scraping it painfully and drawing a bit of blood.

"I've got it!" the boy cheered as he swiped Kumajirou away, tossing it back at one of the other boys and setting off a round of laughter.

Matthew grimaced, sitting up and hastily scrambling to his feet. "Give him back!" he demanded, though even he could tell that his voice was shaky at best, and didn't seem frightening at all.

"Come and get it!" one of the boys cajoled, sprinting away.

Matthew felt frustrated tears gather in his eyes but refused to acknowledge them, running after the thief to no avail. He knew he wouldn't be able to catch up, and by the time the bell rang, Matthew was completely exhausted. He watched as one of the boys relinquished his possession of the bear, tossing him against the fence with finality before running inside with the other boys for the recommencement of class.

Matthew swallowed around what seemed to be a boulder in his throat and picked Kumajirou off of the ground, noting the dirt that was clinging to his fur.

So much for being sociable.

The rest of the day was agony, and Matthew only counted the minutes until dismissal. His elbow was still stinging and by the time the final bell rang, he felt as though he was going to burst into a mess of tears and sobs any second.

Mr. Densen dismissed them and escorted them outside, making sure each student was safely returned to their parent. When Matthew caught Arthur's eyes, he felt his tears escape him almost involuntarily, suddenly overcome with emotion. He ran into the man's arms, leaving his class behind as he buried himself into Arthur's hold.

"What's wrong, love?"

Arthur's swelling concern only brought forth more tears, and soon Matthew was shuddering from the effort of suppressing his sobs.

For a second, he debated telling Arthur the truth, but knew that telling the man would only cause his guardian only more worry and alarm. Plus, any chance of Matthew making friends would have been squashed as soon as Arthur had a word with his teacher.

He would fix things on his own terms, so he did the only thing that seemed logical at that moment, fully aware of the fact that he would later chastise himself for it.

He lied.

Well, he withheld part of the truth, which pretty much amounted to the same felony in his book.

"I fell during recess and hurt my elbow," he blubbered into Arthur's shirt shamelessly.

Arthur let out a small sigh of relief, pulling away from Matthew momentarily to address the problem. "Let me have a look at it then."

He stood submissively, muscles paralyzed as Arthur pushed back the sleeve of his thin sweater and scrutinized the cut before straightening the sleeve once more. "We'll put a bandage and some ointment on it when we get home, okay? There's no reason to get so upset over it. It'll be all better by tomorrow."

Matthew nodded, drying his eyes and sniffling before getting into the car, eyes puffy and dull with sorrow.

Arthur made a few attempts at cheering him up by the time they got home, but his efforts did little to console Matthew, who only ran into the house as soon as they pulled into the driveway. He knocked loudly on the door and listened as Alfred warily approached the door on the other side.

"It's me," Matthew informed, taking a step back as Alfred unlocked the door and prepared to let his brother in. "Arthur is getting something from the car," he muttered as he made a move to step inside.

"What's wrong?" Alfred questioned, immediately noticing his brother's disposition.

Matthew shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, using the same excuse that he'd used with Arthur. "I hurt my elbow at recess."

"I don't believe you," Alfred accused, not so easily convinced. He knew his brother better than to fall for the ploy.

"I'll show you the cut."

"No, not that. Tell me what really happened," Alfred insisted, noting that Arthur was now locking the doors of the car and heading for the house. "I won't move until you say you'll tell me, and then you'll have to explain to Arthur—"

Matthew glared and attempted to shove past his brother, who only shoved him back.

"You promised that you would tell me everything that happened on Career Day. Today is Career Day, so you have to tell me."

"I don't want to. Let me in!"

"Mattie…"

Matthew met his brother's fretful eyes and felt the militia of tears returning. His twin could be a stubborn brat at times. "All right, I'll tell you in a minute."

Alfred nodded, satisfied. He stepped aside and let Matthew through, watching as he retreated upstairs before noting Arthur's arrival as well and holding the door open for him too.

"Thank you, poppet," the man muttered as he passed, ruffling Alfred's hair. His eyes flickered to the stairs before he turned back to the twin. "Do you remember that little promise that you made me not too long ago?"

Alfred knew exactly what the elder was talking about, and he was already two steps ahead of the game. "I'll talk to him," he told Arthur knowingly.

The man smiled softly, eyes thankful. "That's just what I was hoping to hear."

And with that, Alfred raced up the stairs and wandered into Matthew's room, shutting the door behind him and bouncing on his bed before sending his twin a worried glance. There was a long moment of silence as they tried to decide who should talk first, and ultimately, Matthew was forced to begin.

With a reluctant start, he told Alfred everything that had happened, from the detective's visit to the boys on the playground, and lastly, how they had picked on him and robbed Kumajirou just to irk him and see him become upset. As he went on with the recount, Alfred seemed to become more and more enraged, to the point where he was just about to tell Arthur everything that he'd discovered. However, Matthew was quick to protest.

"Please, don't tell him!"

"They deserve to get in trouble though!" Alfred rationalized, staring straight into his brother's eyes in order to persuade him. "If you tell the teacher than they're never going to mess with you again."

"But then all of the kids in the class are going to think that I'm just a tattletale."

Alfred pursed his lips, angered at the prospect that somebody had tormented his brother and that he hadn't been able to do anything to stop it. "Fine, then, if that's what you want then I'm just going to have to go to school tomorrow and tell them to stay away from you."

"That's not any better than telling the teacher!"

"No one bullies my brother and gets away with it!" Alfred griped in a harsh whisper. "Just trust me, and I'll handle it."

"Alfred, please… Promise you won't do anything to them."

Alfred shook his head, standing up and towering over his brother. "I can't do that, Mattie."

"Yes, you can. Please, do it for me. I don't want anybody to get involved. Besides, once you come back to school, they're going to stop."

And so, Alfred was faced with a stalemate. Either he had to break his promise to Arthur and fail to protect his brother or he had to break his promise to Mattie by getting vengeance on the students who had antagonized him.

He weighed the pros and cons.

"All right, Mattie," he sighed densely, directing his gaze toward the wall. "I promise not to tell anyone or do anything to get back at them."

Matthew nodded softly. "Good."

And so, Alfred walked out of his brother's room, returning to his own bed and staring at the ceiling gloomily.

He had every intention of getting his revenge, and he would just have to bear the hatred that Matthew would feel toward him after breaking his vow.

Some promises had to be broken.

But that didn't make the consequences any easier to endure.