Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.
Characters: Watari (Wammy)
Genre: Angst/Family
During the day, my children -and they are my children, I always call them such- are well-adjusted, polite, and (mostly) well-behaved. They attend their classes and do their best work. When they are ill, they are taken care of. We have all our meals together in a large room, and they may sit wherever they wish. Once they are fourteen, they are allowed to go into town any time during the day without an adult, as long as they bring at least one other House member and return before dark.
They are allowed a very healthy amount of freedom with enough rules to keep them safe and aid their development, and, during the day, there is an excited, intelligent, happy, and mildly chaotic atmosphere that seems quite suited to us all.
It is still, though, an orphanage, and no matter how much I can provide for them, how much we all tell and show them that we love them, no matter how happy we can make their lives, Wammy's is still a place for children who have lost their parents.
At night, when they are all in their rooms, rooms which they can choose to share or live alone in, they cry.
No matter how brilliant they are, no matter how mature, they are still children. They miss their parents, or wish they could remember them, or wish they could forget. Whatever the individual case, they cry.
Even the older ones. I heard Matt cry in the room he and Mello shared more than once as I made my rounds. I heard Mello's comforting murmurs. And once, I heard it the other way 'round- Mello was sobbing and Matt was whispering to him. Even the fiery Mello is a child.
It breaks my heart in ways I can not describe, knowing there is nothing I can do, but I am helpless. I'd bring their parents back to them if I could, no matter what it took, but I haven't the power. I can't do any more than what I've already done, and I can only pray that it will be enough.
During the day, I give them everything I can.
At night, I weep for their loss.