This is the second chapter of my new series. I know I mentioned before that here will be no consistency in the length of the chapters, so I thought I should warn you that this will be much longer than the previous one.
I also want to let everyone know that my heart is our for everyone who was hit hard by Harvey and the others who were affected by it. We will continue to support each other during this time, and I hope that those people are receiving the assistance they need in a timely manner.
Chapter Two
Shout
Noah Manor, Utopia, September 12, 20XX
Allen still had some time before dinner began at 7 o'clock. He had taken a small nap in his new bed for a few hours. When he awoke, he felt extremely groggy, and confused. It took a while before he became coherent. He contemplated staying in his room until then, but he decided he needed to at least get to know his surroundings. Therefore, he resolved himself to explore the manor. The first floor had been bright with cool colors and a cheery atmosphere. From what he had seen of the second floor, it was dark, with warm browns and reds to create a comforting and intimate atmosphere. It was this encouragement that finally drew the boy out of his bed and out of his place of hiding.
Allen's room was in a small hallway connected to a larger hallway by a door to the right of his room. He went through there, eyeing paintings of landscapes and abstract scenes with mild curiosity. He eventually came to a few room with archways leading into them instead of doors. The first…well it was soft. Someone had used carpet for the floor, filled it with plush toys, bean bag chairs, and odd floor couch and a few lap tables. He also noted there were at least a dozen pillows and blankets scattered throughout the room A sign on the wall leading into it read: NO PRANKS OR LOUD NOISES IN THE THINKING ROOM. Two boys were seated quietly together on the couch, one with his back to Allen, the other's profile barely pointed away from Allen. Allen, of course, did not enter that room and passed it by without a second glance.
The next room was a fairly normal living room, except that it didn't have a television. There were fluffy couches and individual chairs arranged in an odd circle around the fireplace, a few throws cast over the backs of some of the furniture. In the corner sat a medium-sized bookshelf. Most of the shelves contained volumes of books, well-worn by loving fingers, however, some of the shelves held a couple of board games. Allen could see this room being used as a good place for the family to gather in for socialization. He could almost imagine the adults sitting together, enjoying a glass of wine around the fire…it made him long to be a part of that wonderful scene. He almost went into the room so he could fantasize a little bit longer, but he dared not. He could barely see it, but there was a girl sitting in a strange fashion in one of the chairs. She was sewing a doll's dress, and looked young. Allen had no doubt this was a relative. Like the others, he avoided the girl and moved on.
The next room he came across was a kitchenette. This was a pleasant surprise, because Allen often got hungry at odd hours, and ate such an abnormal amount of food. He was particularly happy to know he had a place to go to sate his midnight munchies. He refrained from entering, however, when he saw a very large man inside. His muscles bulged through his long-sleeved shirt, and Allen was quite certain this man would not hesitate to beat him within an inch of his life if he so much as disturbed him in the action of icing the pretty white cake before him. Allen did not want a confrontation, therefore he left that room.
He walked around a bit more, coming to the ends of the hall. He found stairs leading up to the third floor, but he recalled mention that the third floor was mostly an observatory. Instead he opened the door to his right (he was almost certain that the door to his left led into a hallway filled with rooms like his own hallway). He walked into a refreshing room, painted a light blue softer than the sky; this was the original place Earl had led him to get to his room. It relieved Allen to know he could get to the same place any way he went, since his sense of direction was legendary—he could get lost on a train.
Allen walked through the large open room curiously, looking around. It had a television on the wall, a worn-out couch, a few gaming consoles, and a DVD rack. He might have gone towards the rack to see what kind of taste these people had, but he noticed that the balcony door was open, a breeze carrying the scent of cigarette smoke towards him. The brand was different than Cross's, but the familiar scent put Allen at ease. It gave him the courage to walk towards the source to see who was taking a smoke break.
The smoker was younger than Allen expected, in his mid-twenties. His skin was swarthy, smooth. He wore black slacks with a white dress shirt half buttoned down, untucked, and a tie loose about his neck. And the man's curly hair was slicked back. Allen wasn't sure if he looked attractive or dangerous, he looked somewhere between classy and mafia. Although, perhaps that explained a lot.
As Allen approached the man, he turned towards him, eerily light brown eyes studying him curiously.
"I suppose you are my neighbor," he remarked, words slurred by the cigarette between his lips. He looked tired, yet he still gave the boy a friendly smile. "I'd give you a proper welcome, but I just got off of work and I'm still regaining my sense of sanity."
"What do you do?" Allen asked curiously. The man grinned, removing the cigarette to blow out a ring. Thankfully, he made it float away from the boy.
"Would you believe me if I said that I'm a card dealer at a casino?" the man asked. Allen looked him over.
"I would," he responded honestly. "Is that what you really do?"
"Of course. Who wouldn't take the opportunity to legally cheat people out of their money through something as simple as a card game?" The stranger gave Allen a pointed an appraising look. "Mind you, I teach high schoolers during workdays."
A teacher? Allen thought dubiously. Lie or not, the card-dealer seemed likeable enough, and even some of the best liars in the world were good people.
"Fair enough," he said at last. "What's your name?"
"Tyki. You're Allen, right?" The boy nodded. "Sheryl said you would be coming today. No one actually believed him, though."
"Why not?"
"Well, Sheryl…" Tyki paused, his eyebrows knitting together in a frown. "Sheryl is Sheryl. He talks and talks, but we don't really pay attention to what he says. The brats, especially, ignore him."
Allen recalled the other teens in the other rooms on the floor. "A girl and two boys, right? I think I saw them."
"Yeah, those are the brats I meant, thought there are actually four of them. I am sure you saw the twins, Jasper and David. The girl was Road," Tyki replied. He drew inwards through the cigarette, a long suck that burned the end quicker. Then he let a seemingly endless cloud of smoke into the air before he continued on. "The last brat is Wisely. He's annoying, but fair company when he wants to be. He is not as rambunctious as the other three, as he is prone to migraines."
Now that Tyki mentioned it, he could remember Earl mentioning something about four youths.
Tyki turned slightly so that he could stab the butt of the stick onto the stone balcony railing. He tossed it into a conveniently placed trash can where a hundred other stumps rested. He pushed himself off of the edge.
"If you don't mind the wait, I can show you around the mansion, and introduce you to the others," Tyki offered. Allen tensed at the thought.
"No need," he said hurriedly. "I would just like to get sued to my surroundings first."
Tyki nodded, his expression understanding. He bid Allen farewell and left him alone on the balcony. In silence, Allen contemplated his situation. When he could think no more, he simply admired the beauty of his surroundings. He would never admit it to anyone, but he missed Cross. He worried about his guardian, scared that he would not see the man again.
The mere idea of such a thing made Allen want to cry.
::
"Allen," someone called gently. Allen glanced back at the owner of the voice and saw Sheryl coming to join him on the balcony. He stopped a few feet away from Allen, remaining a comfortable distance away from the boy. "Dinner is ready. I can take you downstairs if you would like to join us."
Allen didn't really want to join them, but he knew he had to do so sooner or later. With no small amount of reluctance, he turned his back on the beautiful scenery and his worries. He followed Sheryl downstairs to the dining room.
The dining room was spacious, but not nearly as large as he had feared it would be. Considering Earl told him he had thirteen other relatives living in the house—manor—and the occasional guest in addition to the household's two permanent guests, he had expected a dining room the size of an auditorium. Allen entered the room behind Sheryl and was relieved to see only two people already present, Earl being one of them. He was not familiar with the blonde woman seated by his side, though she looked quite attractive and nice, albeit a little too composed. Allen put her around the same age as Tyki, perhaps a tad older. She wore a professional suit, and a long ponytail both conservative and stylish. She almost reminded the boy of a lawyer.
Earl caught sight of Sheryl and Allen and he grinned at them.
"Allen!" It's good to see you again, even though it's only been a few hours! Please, take a seat wherever you would like," Earl told him. He swept an arm widely out towards the empty chairs at the table. "The others will arrive shortly."
Allen took a seat between Earl and Sheryl (closer to Earl). It was almost directly across from the blonde woman (if he hadn't shifted closer to Earl).
"Allen, this is Lulubell, one of the children I adopted," Earl introduced them.
"It's a pleasure to meet you," he said politely. Lulubell smiled slightly, the gesture a little awkward, but completely genuine.
"Likewise. We have all been looking forward to meeting you," she replied. "If I remember correctly, you are fifteen?"
"Yes. I'll turn sixteen in a few months," Allen answered.
"That will be quite a bit of time for us to catch up," a new voice said. The boy cast a quick glance towards the entrance. He saw a man with crazy curly hair and coke-bottle glasses sauntering in. His clothes were baggy and stained, and Allen vaguely wondered if they were allowed to dress like this at dinner, or if the man was someone homeless who had wondered in.
I thought they stopped making glasses like that thirty years ago, he thought to himself, grossly fascinated by how hideous this newcomer's glasses were.
"Hello again," the messy man greeted Allen. As soon as he saw the man and heard his voice together, it clicked in the boy's mind just who this person was.
"You look completely different," he remarked emphatically, looking over Tyki once again. Sheryl scowled, raking his eyes over the newcomer again.
"He looks like a vagabond," Sheryl muttered, disapproving of his brother's attire. "As soon as he gets home, he changes into those trashy clothes, switches his contacts for those hideous things. It's a waste of such a handsome face!"
I don't think that's what you are supposed to call those clothes, Allen thought, his humor tickled by the image of Tyki in trash clothes. After a moment, he frowned slightly. The way Sheryl said that about his relative was kind of disturbing. He doesn't think of him like…like that, does he?
As Allen contemplated this, he looked between the two, hoping that they were only cousins.
"Sheryl, you're my brother," Tyki admonished. Allen decided that Sheryl was indeed an existence all of its own, and completely worthy of being ignored, as Tyki had mentioned earlier, if he was perving on his own brother. "Don't say creepy things like that. People will think you're actually into incest."
"But Tyki, you are attractive, and you should dress like it," Sheryl pointed out.
Earl chuckled in amusement as the two fell into what the boy assumed to be a common argument they shared.
"I adopted Sheryl and Tyki from Portugal. They were a packaged deal," he explained to Allen. "Aside from the twins, Jasper and David, they are the only blood-related siblings in hour family."
Allen took Earl's word for it, and began comparing the two brothers mentally. It was a faint resemblance on the surface, but they shared a similar base structure, thought Tyki's features were significantly softer and more youthful. Both men were undoubtedly attractive (if Allen was feeling particularly lacking in confidence, he would enviously categorize them as the perfect models who needed no make-up or touch-up). Sheryl's attractiveness was far sharper, almost harsh, and he was the leaner of the two, almost gangly.
A whirlwind of noise drew Allen's attention from further scrutinization. He watched as two boys—one with medium length black hair, one with long blonde hair—rushed inside the dining room. One cackled, spinning around to do an impromptu backflip, just as the other gave a lightening-fast kick where he had stood a blink before. Hey continued this energetic game of chase, ending it when they at last came to the table and leapt into their chairs. Allen was surprised to see them both wearing heavy, gothic makeup (he admitted, it did suit them). Allen assumed these two boys were the twins, and they were definitely the two he had seen in the room upstairs earlier. The blonde actually looked fairly feminine, with a soft face and large eyes. The length of his hair made him look even more like a girl. Contrastively, the darker haired twin had more angular features, eyes more intense in expression. Like all of the other members of this family, related by blood or not, they were ridiculously attractive. Allen was even beginning to feel the stirrings of envy upon seeing them up close.
"You're the new kid," the blonde said. Allen nodded. "You name is Alex, isn't it?"
"Allen," he corrected. The darker-haired twin offered him a hand all too eagerly.
"Nice to meetcha!" He said grinning. Allen didn't like the way the boys' eyes glimmered with mischief. He didn't trust them and made a mental note to avoid them as much as possible in the future.
"Where is Road?" Sheryl asked them. The one who had offered retracted his head with a mild amount of disappointment in the action.
"She went to bring Sweet Tooth down," he answered.
"Please don't call Skin that," Earl requested, sounding both amused and disapproving.
"But he is one," Tyki pointed out. Lulubell shook her head in quiet exasperation.
"Tell him that to his face, then," she dared him. Tyki merely grinned as if to say, I'm no idiot to fall for that.
"What about Wisely?" Sheryl continued on, ignoring the other conversations around them.
"Who knows," the blonde twin said, not even exhibiting a single ounce of concern. Tyki turned his chuckle into a cough when Lulubell sighed. Allen was a little overwhelmed by the number of people at the table. He was even more shocked to hear about the great number of people who had yet to come join them. He had thought opulence would make them less like a normal family, yet here he was proven wrong by these interactions. He had expected something more organized, calm, and collected from rich people. Allen was less certain he would be able to remain with them throughout dinner. Though on the other hand, he supposed it was relief that everyone cared about one another (to the extent that siblings can) despite not sharing blood.
A girl skipped into the dining room, tugging along the giant man Allen had seen icing a cake earlier in the kitchenette upstairs. Allen recognized her as well, though now that she was standing up, he was surprised to see how small and petite she really was. She looked around eleven or twelve, with short, dark hair cut into a pixie cut. Her outfit was very girly, matching the dolls he had seen throughout the room. The man next to her…he was huge. Just—the size of a mountain.
"I wouldn't tell him that," whispered a voice in his ear. The boy jerked around, and found a teenager a couple of years his senior in the chair right beside him. His hair was reddish, eyes dark, he was thin, and pale—quite frankly, he looked sickly.
Yet another hand was shoved towards Allen, though this one was not so nearly dangerous.
"Wisely," the teenager announced. Allen took the hand hesitantly.
"Allen," he responded. He was beginning to wonder if he would be able to fit into a group of people so diverse and odd.
"Don't worry about that. We are family for a reason. Of course you will fit in with us," Wisely assured him. Allen wondered if the boy could read his mind, or if he had said something out loud.
There was a smug glint in Wisely's eye, and it was answer enough. Allen was tempted to punch Wisely in the face for being smug about an invasion of privacy. But he was faltering, because if he could read minds—
Don't let anyone close.
Don't let anyone close enough to betray you again.
You can only ever trust Cross.
"Please don't hit me," Wisely requested politely, drawing Allen from those odd feelings in his chest. He opened his mouth to give a shaky retort, but a girl leapt into his lap, settling happily there.
"Hi Allen! I'm Road!" she said brightly.
Don't trust anyone.
It was too much.
If you trust someone, they will betray you.
There were too many people.
Do you want to be hurt again?
He was panicking.
You can only trust Cross.
Cross wasn't with him to calm him down. Allen stood up abruptly, dumping the girl in his chair.
"Wait, Allen—"
He didn't wait. He ran all the way upstairs before anyone could stop him.
::
Allen took the stairs all the way to the third floor. He found sanctuary in the observatory there. He sat, curled in a corner, until he calmed down from his panic. After calming down a little, he realized the foolishness of hiding in such an open room, and instead he went through the door closest to him. He found the music room, filled with books and instruments, amplifiers, and other things. Without really knowing why, he took a guitar off of its stand, holding it to himself in his lap as he sat on the floor again. He held it to himself as one might hold a teddy bear, or a pillow. He sat there, enjoying the silence, and the sense of being alone. By nature, he did not trust easily. He did not like being around large groups of people. He didn't like this manor. It was too big, too foreign. He didn't like the people here either, because he didn't know them, couldn't trust them. Allen was afraid that they might one day betray him, or hurt him. Being in an unknown place, he wasn't really sure what he would do if something like that happened. He had never lived in America before, never lived in the countryside. Quite frankly, Allen was feeling a little…homesick. He had never had a permanent home before, but he wanted to be home now. For him, Home was safe, and peaceful, Cross.
Allen curled further around the guitar. He felt alone in the world.
The door opened; Allen could hear it, despite how slowly and quietly the person was trying to make it open. The boy tensed, preparing himself for one of the adults to either lecture him or baby him. Yet the soft footsteps of the man (or woman) were slow and measured, and when the man crouched in front of Allen with a smile, Allen saw he was not a man at all. He looked to be on the cusp of adulthood, with bright red hair, an eyepatch, and a bright green eye. Allen wasn't sure why, but he felt uncomfortable to be near this man. He wanted to run away, to cry—but that was unreasonable. This was likely another member of his family, so the boy forced himself not to give into his instinct to get away from the red-head.
He will betray you!
And Allen ignored the feeling in his gut telling him he could not trust him, because somehow he knew that he could trust this person.
"Now what are you doing up here?" the stranger asked him curiously. Allen's breath caught in his throat, and he could not answer. He had not expected his heart to leap into his throat like that, the mere sound of the stranger's voice scaring him. But he once again reminded that scared little heart in his chest that all was well; after all, you need to trick the heart.
"It's dinner time. You should go eat," the stranger suggested. Allen stirred from his silence.
"There are too many people there I can't trust. And they act like a family, and I am a stranger," he said cautiously, haltingly. "I can't stand it."
The stranger's face filled with gentle understanding. He gestured to the empty ground next to Allen. "Do you mind if I sit down here?"
The boy shook his head, even though he did not really want the other's company, watching as the red-head plopped down right by his side. He gestured to the guitar.
"Do you play?"
Allen snorted, giving the stranger a look: what do you think?
"You have an affinity for music, thought," the young man mused. "I can tell."
"I used to dance on the streets. Then I discovered the piano," Allen admitted. "I'm a street performer; I play the keyboard for some change."
"Indeed I was right! I bet you also have the gift to play anything you touch," he continued confidently. "All Noahs have an affinity for one instrument or another. But something about you makes me think you may be even better than the others."
Allen was uncertain if the red-head was complimenting him or making a genuine remark. Perhaps it was both. He decided to change the subject either way. Perhaps he might learn something from him.
"What are Noahs?" Allen asked. The red-head looked mildly guilty, as if he had said something he shouldn't have.
"Ah. Well, Earl is descended from a unique person named Noah. Sheryl named the manor after that Noah. Any of the permanent residents are nicknamed 'Noahs'," Lavi explained. "It only applies to his family members now."
"I see," Allen said slowly. He felt it was a little odd, but then these people were a little eccentric anyways. "Earl adopted several of them, right? How am I…related to everyone?"
"Hmm. Earl's twin brother was your father, so he is your uncle. Earl adopted Sheryl, Tyki, Lulubell, and Skin. They are technically your cousins," he replied carefully, face screwing up as he tried to remember exactly how everyone was related to everyone. "Sheryl adopted the twins and Road. Tyki…unofficially adopted Wisely. They're your cousins as well. Technically speaking."
"Don't I have other—"
"If they aren't your uncle, they are cousins," the red-head pointed out. "Don't worry about it too much. Your family tree is complicated."
"And what is my relation to you?" asked Allen. Having only one uncle made everything—and everyone—much easier to classify.
"None. My name is Lavi; my grandfather is a friend of your family," Lavi answered, giving Allen a friendly smile. He gestured to the guitar again. "If you really do feel that uncomfortable and scared, you should use music."
"Music?" repeated Allen. Lavi nodded.
"When I first met Earl's family, they hated me. Rightfully so." He knocked on the wood of the instrument in Allen's lap with his knuckles, and it took the boy a lot of restraint not to pull away from the proximity. Little by little, he realized that Lavi was simply one of those people who would make him feel uncomfortable until they became friends. "Then we found out that we are more similar than we are different. We all have emotions and problems. We also have music within us. It was the medium we used to show the faces we hid from each other."
Allen could empathize. He performed on the keyboard, yet never sang in public for that very reason. With the keyboard and the piano, he could channel his heart. Singing, he exposed it for everyone to feel and to see. He did not like it when everyone could see him as he was.
"Music is a powerful magic," Lavi murmured. "During my darkest times, it was my only way of freeing myself from the chains I built. Where all else failed, music did not."
After a moment, Lavi held his hands out. Allen handed the guitar over to him. He watched the other settle it comfortably in his lap. He met Allen's gaze as soon as he was done adjusting. His fingers began to move, catching on the strings, and Allen felt as if he were caught in a web.
"Shout, Shout let it all out," Lavi sang, his voice encompassing Allen fully. "These are the things I can do without."
Shivers ran down Allen's spin as an enchantment was cast over him.
"Come on, I'm talking to you, come on."
Lavi's gaze never left his, and Allen could feel something within waking up, resonating. It was…as Lavi had said…magic. He might have thought it was a sweet seduction, if not for the fear that was arising in him.
"In violent times, you shouldn't have to sell your soul," Lavi sang, voice going higher and growing more powerful, like the rise and fall of the sea. "In black and white, they really ought to know.
"Those one track minds that took you for a working boy."
Allen saw Lavi's lips twist into a knowing smile that eased the fear slightly. Allen allowed himself to relax fully, to give into whatever spell Lavi had cast over him. He even smiled a genuine smile.
"Kiss them goodbye, you shouldn't have to jump for joy!"
Lavi's voice faded, trailing of as his fingers slowed the strumming. He ended the song there, and broke the allure he had cast on Allen.
"It's still a work in progress," Lavi explained. "How do you feel?"
"Free." Allen blinked as the words slipped out.
"That's good. If you want, I can teach you how to play," Lavi offered.
"No, but thank you for the offer."
"Well, that offer stands as long as you want. I have some work to do, but you can come with me and I will keep you company," he offered. Allen appreciated the gesture, but he wanted to stay in contemplative isolation. He had a lot of thinking to do, some of it a re-evaluation of his home and relatives. If they had common ground, then maybe there was hope of them all getting along. Not to mention, he had a lot to figure out concerning Lavi as well. "Suit yourself then."
Lavi exited the room. Allen took the guitar from the stand where Lavi had returned it.
"An affinity for music, huh," he mused under his breath. He gripped the neck, settling and arm over the curve of the guitar's body, so that his fingers rested comfortably against the strings. With his thumb and forefinger, he strummed. A clear chord rang out, matching the first one Allen had seen Lavi play. He imitated Lavi correctly.
A sense of sadness filled Allen, and a sense of nostalgia.
He shifted, smiling to himself, because he was going to make this experience a good one.
Allen switched his fingers again, strumming again.
::
"Have you seen Allen?" Earl asked Lavi, as the young man descended the stairs from the third floor. Lavi gave him a smile, pressing his finger to his lips, then pointing to the ceiling. After a moment of careful listening, Earl could hear the sound of slow, unsure strumming.
"He hadn't held a guitar before," Lavi said in a low voice. "Yet he can already play a song he only heard from me once."
"He is our Musician," Earl replied, shoulders relaxing now that he knew Allen was doing better than he had originally thought. His eyes, however, darkened. "He does not remember his past life, yet it makes him fearful of trusting others to such an extent—"
He broke off, using that break to reign in his temper so he could continue to speak in a low voice. He looked at Lavi with an intense, determined expression on his face.
"We cannot let him know of the war we are fighting. We cannot allow him to remember the past."
"But is it wise to lie to him?" Lavi asked Earl.
"Why burden him when we intend to protect him?" the other man pointed out. His expression was ancient, and harsh. "No one should live with the memories of their previous life, especially the horrors. There is a reason why the waters of Lethe are given to the good and not the wicked."
"And if he dreams of the past?" Lavi prompted gently. Earl paused. Dreams were inevitable. In dreams, the soul was without boundaries. Even magic is unpredictable.
"If he dreams, then we soothe his fears and insecurities when he wakes," Earl answered at last. He glanced up to the third floor. He was relieved, however, that Allen was not in worse condition.
::
Utopia, Noah Manor, September 13, 20XX
The next day was Monday, and the house was empty. Everyone had gone to work or school, leaving only a couple of souls there: Allen, and Earl. Since it was empty, he took the opportunity to explore the manor to his heart's content. He began by going back over the second floor. He imagined he would spend a lot of time living on the second floor, so he allotted this exploration to organizing it in his head. He decided that the central room would be called the Game Room (even though he knew there were DVDs there as well), and the Game Room is where the stairs from the first floor brought people to the second floor, and also where it opened to the balcony. The hall way around it was shaped like a "u", and he called it the Main Hall. If he turned left out of the Game Room, he found himself in the Main Hall, in front of the door leading to what he dubbed the West Wing (though really, it was two doors that led into hallways where his relatives lived). If he walked down the Main Hall and turned the corner, he found the Kitchenette, the Living Room, and the Thinking Room, in that order. If he continued walking, he came to the East Wing, where he lived, and an entrance to the Game Room. Even if Allen got lost, he would still (probably) end up in the same place.
Allen knew none of the residents of the floor, aside from himself, were present, so inspected both wings quite thoroughly. Everyone had their name on their door, in one form or another. In the West Wing hall closest to the kitchenette, Allen found Road, Wisely, and Sheryl lived there, and their names had been engraved in plaques. Road decorated her door with stickers of candy such as lollipops, sweets twisted in wrappers, and gumballs. Wisely's door and Sheryl's door remained unmarked. In the neighboring hall of the West Wing, Lulubell and the twins lived. The twins had, not shockingly, spray-painted their names on their doors, while Lulubell kept the tasteful plaque with her name on it.
Allen, while exploring the East Wing halls, learned that Skin was in his hallway, diagonal from his room (he was not impressed with this arrangement), while Tyki was his neighbor. Skin used what looked to be a shop sign declaring his room to be his own, complete with adorable cupcakes around his name. Tyki had actually painted his door black, then in purple, gray, and white wrote his name in calligraphy. In the hallway next to their own, Allen found Earl's room (the man had carved that into the wood), and Lavi's. It seemed that Lavi shared a room with his grandfather, and they put out a simple plaque made in the same style as Lulubell's.
After this review, Allen went down to the first floor to get to know the area a little better. The stairs led him back into the atrium. He found the front door directly in front of him, leading to the manor grounds outside of the building. He found the Parlor on the side he dubbed 'West', and a beautiful library on the 'East' side. Allen thoroughly explored the Library, since it was as large as the Parlor, and perhaps even more grand since it was filled with at least a thousand books. There were no walls in this room; the shelves were the walls., and even curved around the windows in the room. The Library had two antique-styled wing-back chairs, each one accompanied by a lovely end table. Although they were probably only for decoration, Allen thought they looked might comfy, and someone had left a book in the seat of one of the chair's, a bookmark saving his or her place. As with everything else, the Earl's family used their wealth to by nice things, but not merely for aesthetic purposes, it seemed. They used everything, and enjoyed it.
Allen was a little reluctant to leave the Library, but he forced himself to continue his familiarization of the manor. He turned to the third door, right across from the entrance. It lead him into yet another hallway. Going straight, Allen saw a bright room made of glass that he had not noticed the previous day. He peeped into the door to his left—it was the dining room, which he had already been in. After that, he poked his head directly across from the dining room. He was at first at a loss of what the room might be called. Perhaps the Recreation Room, or the Hobby Room. It held all kinds of things in there. Machines for exercise, for crafts, science experiments, and many other odd things of that nature. Allen decided that was a place he would not visit too often, and that he could tackle it another day.
With one last room to go on the first floor, Allen walked towards the bright room. It turned out that the end of the hall was actually a glass wall, with a glass door leading into what appeared to be a greenhouse. It was filled with many plants, which of course Allen did not recognize from afar, so he went inside for a closer look. As he examined them, crouching before the numerous plants on the floor and on tables and shelves, he realized he actually did not recognize many of them at all. Before him, he could only name one, and it rested in a pool of water.
Allen moved closer to the pool of water, reaching out past the lily pads to touch the blossoming stalks.
He was like a lotus, growing from the muddy and murky water, striving to reach the sun no matter what obstacles came forth…
"Do you like lotuses?" someone asked him. Allen, startled, whipped around. He found an ancient man standing behind him, his back bent and face wrinkled with age. Long grey hair was pulled into a ridiculous ponytail that somehow managed to defy gravity.
Tell me every secret, and I will keep it, whispered Allen's mind. He shook off the sense of familiarity.
"I knew someone who was like a lotus," Allen answered. He had always been partial to lotuses, though he could never remember who he associated with those flowers, or how they had met. He only knew that this person was one he held an inexplicable bond with. It was a bond deeper than even romance.
"Did you now?" the old man asked curiously. His gaze looked knowing, but Allen figured that this stranger was old enough that he had also probably met someone that was like that as well.
"A long, long time ago," Allen replied, somewhat nostalgically.
Sometimes… I even believe we are connected by fate. The moments when I need company the most, our paths will cross. We sit together with no one else around. In silence, occasionally in soft conversation.
It took him a moment to remember that he was standing before a stranger, one who he, for some bizarre, and quite frightening reason he did not know, felt he could trust. The boy stuck his hand out to the old man. "Ah, I apologize for not introducing myself! I am Allen Walker."
The old man's eyes sparkled with amusement as he shook the hand.
"It's a pleasure to meet you. I am Bookman, also called 'Booker'. I keep the library and garden here." His gaze was quite friendly, and further eased Allen's natural instinct to distrust people. "You met my grandson yesterday, Lavi. We are family friends of Earl."
"Yes, so I have heard." He paused, studying Booker more closely. "You two are very different."
"Indeed. My grandson can be tactful when he chooses to be, but he often likes to be playful," Booker replied apologetically. "I hope you will forgive him whatever says or does. He means no harm."
"He was friendly and helpful when I met him yesterday," Allen assured him, meaning every word. He wasn't entirely sure why he felt so comfortable with this old man or why he trusted him (he almost trusted him as much as Cross, and he had just met him!), but he knew this man was the kind of person one could tell anything to and he wouldn't care one whit. If you asked him to keep a secret, he will—
If you ever have confession or two to give, I will always listen. And if you want to keep it a secret, I will—
-take it to the grave.
"I am glad to hear that. Now tell me, mister Walker, what may I help you with?" the old man asked him. Allen almost requested the old man to call him by his given name, but he realized that he had been given an affectionate form of teasing by being called "mister Walker". It had been done not in light-hearted familiarity or formality. He smiled, oddly touched by the man's intention.
"I'm just exploring, looking around," Allen explained. "I had hoped to do so while everyone else is out."
"Ah, yes. Almost everyone who lives here works or attends school," Booker explained. "I work here, and Earl is the one who keeps all of the accounts in order, so he works in the office instead of having a job."
Allen recalled the third floor. It had the observatory, and the music room. The other door he had not entered must have been the study.
"I see," Allen murmured. He felt oddly disappointed that there were not more people to try to get to know. He had hopes of being able to have at least one person, aside from Earl, to ally with. He may have felt uncomfortable with all of his relatives present, but he felt confident that he could do well enough with one or two.
"If you get lonely, feel free to come find me," Booker offered kindly. "I will usually be here or in the library. In the evening, I take to my quarters."
"Oh, I saw that you share a room with Lavi?" the boy brought up curiously. Booker regarded him carefully, a bitter light in his eye.
"Yes. In my old age, it is good to have someone close at hand," he answered carefully. Allen then wondered how old Booker actually was, to need someone by his side in case of an accident. He also felt a little bad for Lavi, who was both so young to have that kind of responsibility, and—well, Allen had the impression Lavi only had the old man. If Booker died, he would be so sad and lonely.
"How do you feel so far?" Booker asked him, bending down to tend to a plant. Allen immediately joined, hoping to assist him. Booker laughed, waving away the boy's help. He worked efficiently, hands moving with more control and energy than one might expect n an old man so marked by age. Instead, he repeated his question and allowed Allen the time to think.
"I feel worried about Cross. It's frustrating," he confessed. His gaze wandered back over to the lotuses blooming out of the water. His expression softened into something more grieved than simple contemplation. "Here I am, in an opulent home, with a dozen relatives, an opportunity to go to a good school. I am here, and my biggest concern is being unable to avoid everyone here. Yet Cross…who knows what he is doing. Maybe he is caught in the slums, maybe someone is torturing him. He might be fearing for his life, while I fear only whether or not I can trust these people."
Allen looked back at Booker, his gaze pained.
"It isn't fair," he told him in a voice filled with sorrow and longing.
"He wants you to be well, Allen," said Booker. "No matter where he is or what he is going through at the moment, I do not think he would want you to worry about things like poverty or death when he is not by himself."
"I never asked for that," Allen pointed out, his tone coming out sharper than intended. At once he felt guilty for snapping at Booker. The old man was not offended in the slightest.
"No, you did not," Booker agreed. "Nonetheless, he made the choice because he is your guardian. You come first, always. I imagine knowing that you are here, with family to support you, gives him a peace of mind."
Allen was silent, knowing just how true those words were. Cross was usually an unpleasant man with too many vices to enumerate. However, he always kept Allen's livelihood in mind, and they lived together with plenty of happy memories between them (their life or death situations aside; that was valuable bonding time after all).
"Do you know what he is involved in?" Allen asked, hoping that Booker knew, or had some words of knowledge to share.
Booker look his time to answer Allen's question as he pulled dead leaves off of the plants. Allen could not tell if the man was thinking, or if his words had truly gone unheard. Perhaps he had no answers to give, after all. Allen turned his head away, discreetly biting his lipto stop the tears from falling, his heart aching at the thought of losing Cross.
"He was once a soldier with a great duty," Booker began. The boy's head whipped around in surprise. "He had obligations from many years ago he had yet to fulfill."
The old man met Allen's gaze, and his eyes burned.
"Have hope, Allen," he told the boy. "Do not focus on what might be. Instead focus on what you have today, and what is in your power to control."
::
Utopia, Noah Manor, September 14, 20XX
Allen was glad that he had met Booker. The old man had imparted him with both the truth and words of wisdom.
The second morning of Allen's stay, he sought out the old man again. He did not get very far, however, before he was accosted by a strange man named Jerry. Apparently Earl's family had an in-house cook in their employment, and everyone (Booker included) had neglected to tell him about the man's presence. The moment Jerry caught sight of Allen, the boy was enveloped in a pair of wiry arms, face buried in a uniform that smelled of delicious foods. Allen rarely made physical contact with people he did not know well, and he almost lashed out at Jerry in a self-defense move Cross had taught him. No, actually, Allen did swing a fist at Jerry, but the man dodged it.
"Hah!" Jerry cried triumphantly, finally releasing the boy while said boy wore a shocked expression. "I'll have you know that I am used to such attacks from the twins!"
Well, that declaration explained everything, and confirmed Allen's suspicions that the twins were dangerous.
"Please don't hug me," Allen said warily. Jerry looked at him, noting to himself that Earl had found yet another distrusting soul to add to the collection of inhabitants in the manor. Not that this was a problem. He had to adjust his menu for Allen, and knew that the way in to Allen's heart was truly through his stomach.
(It should be noted here, because Allen will never explain this, but his ex-boyfriend gained his trust primarily through food bribery).
"Have you had breakfast yet?" Jerry asked. Allen blinked at the sudden calm in the man's demeanor. He found it suspicious and wondered if the man had finally decided to use some tact or if he was plotting something. His expression undoubtedly said this, for the man added, "MY name is Jerry. Sheryl employs me as his cook."
As soon as Allen heard this, his eyes grew wide, and his mouth began to water.
"You're the one who makes all of those delicious meals?" he asked in awe.
"It became the foundation of a very loyal relationship. Later, Jerry told Skin about Allen's love for food. It didn't happen that day, but eventually Skin brought home some of the goodies from his bakery and gave them to Allen (a bribe of affection, certainly, but this was something Allen truly did not mind).
After a delicious brunch that satisfied both Allen's stomach and tongue, he decided to find Earl. He hadn't seen the man since the day he had arrived, and he felt bad about that. Earl was kind, and Allen genuinely liked him. He searched high and low for Earl, and eventually found himself climbing to the third floor, walking towards the one room in the house he had not really explored yet. He cracked open the door, smiling when he finally found his quarry. He slipped into the room, glancing at the man who was talking to himself at the window.
"—be going to school tomorrow," Earl murmured, looking out the window. In the light, his eyes gleamed an eerie gold. Allen was taken aback and moved closer to see if it had been his imagination or a trick of the light. Earl heard him, and turned to look at the boy. His eyes were just as dark as the boy remembered, not gold to be seen.
It must have been my imagination, he thought to himself.
"I'm sorry for interrupting you," Allen apologized. Earl was quick to smile.
"No, no. I was just thinking about tomorrow," the man assured him. "I intended to find you around two o'clock. I had some things to discuss with you."
Allen approached the patriarch of the family, looking around the study for a place to sit. He absently noted it looked more like an office than a study, but that wasn't really surprising. Eventually he decided just to sit in one of the chairs in front of Earl's desk.
"What did you want to talk about?" he asked.
"We registered you for school yesterday. Are you prepared to go to school tomorrow? Do you need anything?" he asked Allen.
"Well, I don't have a backpack or school supplies," Allen replied.
"We can buy you a backpack this weekend when we buy you some things to decorate your room," Earl promised. "We do have a couple of extra bags you can use. I'm sure Tyki or Wisely have something you wouldn't mind using too much. There are also school supplies in the ottomans in the Thinking Room."
"Oh," was all Allen could think of to say. He had forgotten he would have to attend school, with relatives no less. Suddenly he felt nervous and uneasy.
"Do you feel uncomfortable?" Earl asked, sensing Allen's sudden apprehension. "We can wait for a day or two."
"No," Allen replied quickly. "I'm just a bit nervous. It would be better to get this all over with as soon as possible."
Earl studied Allen for a moment before obeying the boy's wishes. He decided to change the subject to distract the boy from the excitement of 'tomorrow'.
"What have you been up to?" he asked.
"I've just been exploring," Allen said vaguely. He brightened. "I met Booker and Jerry."
Earl winced, recalling that he had neglected to tell Allen about the exuberant cook.
"I apologize for not warning you about Jerry," he began earnestly. "It seems to have slipped my mind—"
"Don't worry. He was really pleasant after a few minutes. He even made me lunch," Allen added. A smiled tugged at the corner of Earl's mouth. He was glad that Jerry had picked up on Allen's skittish and distrustful nature, and had found a way to befriend Allen despite that obstacle.
"I'm glad to hear," Earl said softly. He continued to listen to Allen tell him about his meetings with the two men. He didn't voice it, but he had actually been afraid that Allen would not feel comfortable enough to interact with anyone in the manor. It warmed him to hear Allen had taken a shine to both employees, Booker in particular. Booker…was good for Allen in many ways. Simply his presence would be beneficial to the boy.
"Do you think you would be open to getting to know the others?" Earl asked once Allen had finished.
"The others?" Allen repeated slowly.
"If you got to know them, it might make you feel a little better going to school tomorrow," Earl pointed out. He saw Allen's hesitance.
"You mean the ones my age, like the twins and Wisely," Allen realized. He assumed Earl meant the rest of the family at once, and he had not been comfortable with that idea at all. He wasn't sure getting to know the other teenagers was a good idea. It was, however, preferable to meeting the rest of the family in one go. "I'm not sure how I feel about that…"
"Then watch one of their band practices," the man suggested. "Their music is magical."
::
Around four-thirty, the other teenagers returned to the manor. Allen waited for them to do their homework. He hadn't realized it the day before, since he had not really wanted to interact with anyone beyond Booker and Earl, but apparently they all went straight to the Thinking Room to do their school work. Jerry brought them snacks and drinks to tide them over until dinner time. Allen did not visit them while they did their homework. That would have been too boring. As soon as he saw them go upstairs, however, he was ready to go watch them. Well, he waited a moment for them so that they wouldn't notice him following them.
The stair steps were quiet and did not creak as Allen crept up to the third floor. He walked over to the music room, leaning closer to the door. After a moment of hesitation, Allen cracked the door open and peeked inside.
Everyone was in place, some tuning instruments, others looking through their binder, and they all had a binder. It must have been a band thing, because while each one was uniquely decorated, there was still some sort of uniformity.
"Man, that homework was boring," David complained. Did Tyki have to give us such a lame assignment?"
"Yeah! Who assigns map-making as an assignment?" Jasper agreed. It took Allen a moment to remember to realize that they were talking about his neighbor Tyki. It appeared that the man had not been lying after all. The boy wondered why Tyki would choose to do both jobs, or even why any of his family members worked. They had enough money to live off of without a job.
"Shut it. You're lucky he isn't here today, or he would be hazing you," Road pointed out.
"It's a good thing Kanda and Tyki had that faculty meeting, huh?" Lavi joked. He received a less than amused response from his band members. "Alright, we're down a string and a vocal, so let's get to practicing and hope for the best!"
Road settled on the drums, David stopped tuning his guitar, and Jasper got into position with the bass. Lavi, however, took out a kid's microphone, the cheap plastic kind that imitates amplification. Allen's eyebrows furrowed together in utter bewilderment.
What the hell? He wondered.
"Alright guys let's do the—" Lavi was interrupted by Road.
"The creepy part of the song, we got it," Road bit out. Lavi gave her a dirty look. She saluted him cheekily with her drumstick, and raised her voice louder. "One, two, one two three four!"
Music rang out, though it was not quite a symphony. And Lavi began his song, and as always, Allen was caught by the compelling quality of the red-head's voice.
"Shout, Shout, let it all out,
These are the things I can live without
Come on, I'm talking to you, come on."
It certainly sounded odd, but all things considered (namely, they were missing two people), it wasn't bad. And while Lavi was singing with even more emotion than before, it wasn't with the gentleness he had used with Allen in the hallway. He had wanted to know how the song was written to sound. Well, he got his answer. He almost felt as if Lavi's voice was scraping against his soul, reminding him of scars he had never known to exist.
"And when you've taken down your guard," Lavi sang, a dangerous glint in his eye, the gleam of a predator with his prey in sight. It made cold sweat drip down Allen's spine. He feared him
"If I could change your minds,
I'd really love to break your heart,
I'd really love to break your heart!"
Suddenly the predatory gleam left Lavi's eye, replaced with something softer, yet full of more emotion than Allen had expected. He felt like he was being told a story now, rather than a hunter's plans for how he would be killed.
"As cold as ice…"
I don't know whether he will live or die, but someone will always know. Even if all that remains are stories.
A tear fell from Allen's eye, born from something between heart and memory, perhaps even instinct.
"I hope we live to tell tale!" Lavi sang, unknowing what his song was awakening in Allen.
"I hope we live to tell—" Lavi's wandering gaze fell on the crack, as if drawn. He saw Allen and their eyes met. "—the tale…"
Lavi's voice trailed off, and the music continued on without hi, for a few beats.
It was like magic, just as Earl had promised, Allen realized absently, fingers touching the dampness beneath his eye. He looked down at it in confusion, wondering what had made him cry.
Had he felt Lavi's emotions through his song and he had sympathized?
Or had the music invoked something Allen had not known about before?
Either way, the boy could not bring himself to stay. He felt unnerved, so he ran away. Figuratively and literally. He would never admit it to anyone, but he was frightened. So very scared.
::
Utopia, Campbell Academy for the Gifted, September 15, 20XX
"Here is your class schedule," the secretary said, handing Allen the form. He took it, looking over everything. Earl, who stood by his side, slipped him a map of the school with color-coded, detailed routs already marked out for him (there were even instructions written out on the side) so he wouldn't get lost as easily. Allen glanced up at Earl with a grateful smile, though in the back of his mind he wondered how the man had known about his awful sense of direction.
"Go on to class," Earl urged him, eyes filled with pride and reluctance to let his nephew go. "Someone will drive you back to the manor after school."
Earl hesitated, eyes growing worried.
"And if you need to leave for any reason, tell your teacher to call your guardian, okay?" he added. Allen nodded. He felt relieved by the offer, and his unspoken promise that he would come if Allen asked him to.
"Thank you," Allen told him. He meant it.
Bravely, Allen shoved his shouldered his bag and left to go to his first class (the blue line on his map). He found his classroom without too much trouble. The door read 'Mr. Mikk', and it matched the name on his schedule. Well, it was interesting, since the man's name had been graffitied onto the wood. In a familiar style, Allen realized. He wasn't sure how he felt seeing the twins' handiwork, but he pushed through the door nonetheless. What awaited him was a surprise he hadn't quite expected—though of course, he should have.
"Hello Allen!" Tyki greeted him, his tone far too bright for how early it was. Allen blinked, trying to process the fact that his relative was his teacher, and the fact he looked professional and not suave. "Go ahead and sit next to Lavi. He needs a partner to help him."
Allen obeyed, still confused by Tyki's presence—and position.
What am I even supposed to call him? He wondered. Tyki? Mr. Mikk?
As he sat down, Lavi gave him a sympathetic look.
"Don't worry," he assured the boy. "We mostly color pages in this class. And if we have a big test, he usually tells us the answers the day before."
Allen stared at the red-head. Definitely unable to comprehend that.
"Seriously?" Allen demanded.
As it turned out, Lavi was serious—and telling the truth. The rest of the class had been a joke, because Tyki simply gave the, maps of topography to color while he read a book. On one hand, Allen liked having an easy 'A'. On the other hand, he wasn't sure he could last long before dying of boredom.
Sadly, the rest of his day was equally bizarre and discouraging. Allen had Lavi for three classes—World History, Physical Education, and English. Since Tyki did a horrendous job of teaching history, Allen hoped Lavi would at least become someone who would help him keep his sanity in the days to come. It wasn't necessary in P.E. But in English…well, Allen's weakest point tended to be in reading and writing. His arm often hurt if he held a pen too long, and sometimes he found writings in class to be disturbingly relatable. He wished to find a companion in Lavi for that class as well.
Allen discovered Lulubell was a teacher as well, and a strict one at that. He had quivered, dreading her Geometry class when she sat him down between the twins Jasper and David. It had been a class of Hell – Lulubell was frightening because she could both teach and discipline the twins simultaneously. Allen did not want to upset her. In short, it was an awful class, likely the worst class of his life.
Allen was not entirely sure how he had ended up in orchestra of all places, since he played piano and keyboard, and nothing else (he still refused to accept that he had been playing the guitar that day). He eventually decided that someone had decided to torture him by putting him in a class with Road. He wasn't even sure why she was in orchestra either, if she played the drums. The only luck he had is that he was given a cello to learn, while she played the violin, so they remained in separate sections during class. She still managed to be annoyingly affectionate and clingy.
By seventh period, Allen was utterly done with his day, and he was expecting to find yet another relative in his class. So Allen trudged into Art class, resigning himself to yet another awful class. But it was not what he expected at all. First of all, he was one of six students. He waited for more people to filter in, but the bell rang, then the tardy bell, and no one else came in. Secondly, Allen noticed that their teacher was not present in the classroom, something he had yet to come across. He looked around at everyone's face to determine if this was a normal occurrence or not. They did not look alarmed or uncertain, or even concerned. Lastly, he noted that they were all girls. Nice, quiet girls, the complete opposite of his noisy (and hellacious) relatives. It was a blessed relief from the rest of his day, and Allen was about to pray his thanks for being given such blessed sanctuary. But then—
Slam!
He jumped a mile high, and his head snapped around to see who had slammed the door shut with such vehemence. He was surprised to see a tall young man only a few years older than them walking in. He was enviably attractive, even more than his relatives. His skin was flawless, his features striking, and long, long dark hair that shone like silk hung from a ponytail that was neat and perfect. Allen guessed the teacher, Mr. Kanda, was Japanese, but he wasn't entirely certain.
"Alright class, today—" the teacher's eyes swept over the class as he spoke. The intensity made Allen's heart swell to capacity with emotions he could not identify. He was unsettled by whatever emotions or thoughts lay behind those dark depths, but it was almost like the sadness that accompanied wondering why such darkness lay in those dark eyes—
I will give you my life, however short it may be.
"New kid."
"My name is Allen," said 'kid' responded automatically. This was, of course, ignored.
"Share supplies with the idiot next to you," the teacher told him, turning on heel. "We are doing watercolors today."
Allen frowned, put off by the man's gruff personality. It almost dampened his hopes of having found a class to relax in, but he decided not to let a few short words bring down his mood.
"Mr. Kanda," one of Allen's classmates began, "Will you be demonstrating today?"
The teacher snorted.
"Not like you idiots will learn any other way," he bit out. The girl next to Allen giggled, putting him off slightly. He reminded himself not to let it bother him and reluctantly went to work.
Mr. Kanda was actually not as awful as Allen had feared. He was a man of few words, a little too blunt, and strict. But he taught everyone with a patience belying words and tones, and he made certain everyone understood the lesson and techniques. This, at least, comforted Allen and made him think that perhaps Art might be the peaceful, relaxing highlight of the day Allen had hoped for.
The bell rang all too soon, and Allen's time for freedom came to a close. The other students had already been in school long enough to fall into the rhythm of cleaning up before the bell rang. Allen, on the other hand, had not finished, and he also had paint all over his white shirt (the uniform jacket was black, but he felt it was fairly safe to assume that there was paint on it as well). He stayed behind after the bell rang to try to wash out the stains.
He fought to swallow down his panic when they did not come out.
"It won't come out, Moyashi," Mr. Kanda told him. Allen glanced at him, irritated by the nickname, even as he pondered if it really bothered him to be called that. "Earl can buy you a new shirt."
The irritation disappeared in an instant. "You know Earl?"
"We have…a history," Mr. Kanda responded vaguely. "I occasionally visit the Noah Manor for dinner and other…reasons.
Allen took that to mean Mr. Kanda was a frequent visitor. He turned off the faucet and wondered why his family members seemed to know so many people. Was it possible that no one in the school was actually a stranger to them?
"I suppose I'll be seeing you a lot," he said. "See you later, Mr. Kanda."
"Kanda," the teacher corrected. He made a grimace. "Only starry-eyed school girls or kids who shit their pants call me 'Mr. Kanda'. You are neither."
"Kanda," Allen corrected himself. He smiled. "I'll see you later."
After Art, Allen had Wisely for Chemistry. He almost punched Wisely in the stomach. Twice. He vowed to bring duct-tape for the annoying nuisance every day.
::
Tyki was the one to find Allen. He picked Allen up a few minutes before class ended (he apparently had no eighth period) so that Allen could spend a few minutes away from the other Noahs his age. Out of pity, Tyki volunteered to drive Allen back in the car while Lulubell was given the task of driving the other brats in the van. They were probably going to be the first ones at Noah Manor, since Tyki intended to take the scenic route back.
"How was school?" Tyki asked Allen as they buckled themselves in.
"Wisely was annoying," Allen responded vaguely, though his voice promised murder. Tyki chuckled.
"Sounds about right," he responded. He started the car, pulling out of his parking place. "Did you get along with everyone else?"
Allen watched Tyki guide the car expertly through the chaotic throng of students. For a man who supposedly cheated others out of money for a part-time job, he was a surprisingly cautious driver.
"Lavi was nice," Allen said at last. "He helped me a lot and gave me plenty of space. Jasper put gum in my hair during Geometry. Lulubell had to cut it out."
Here, Tyki glanced at Allen's hair and noticed it looked noticeably more unkempt. It must have been a lot of gum.
"And Road tried to kiss me four times."
Tyki wondered why Allen had such rotten luck.
"I am sorry you had such an awful day at school," he said sympathetically. "It gets better.
They boy gave him a doubtful look. Tyki reworded his statement.
"As you learn how to deal with us, it gets better," he rephrased. "It is all overwhelming now, but once you adapt, things like Road and the twins can be avoided."
"If this is what every day will be like, I'm not sure I will be able to survive," Allen muttered. Tyki pulled onto the highway, trying to decide how he should deal with a sullen teenager.
"Believe me, I understand how hard this is for you. When Earl found my brother and adopted us, I hated it. He was not normal, nor was his brother. The other made our lives living hell, and I didn't want a family, or his damn wealth," Tyki told Allen. "It took years for Earl to gain my trust. As our family grew, I learned that no matter what obstacles may come, or what we do to each other, we always stand together to overcome it."
Allen was quiet ad he took Tyki's words into consideration. He actually wasn't completely sure what he thought of everyone. Certainly, he felt worried, unhappy, abandoned, lonely, shy—he was a jumbled mess inside. He really just wanted something familiar. If he had something familiar, anything at all, he imagined he would be able to adjust a lot easier.
He supposed he could wait for a while, to see if things did get easier, as Tyki promised they would. But he wouldn't wait too long. He would give all of this one more week.
"Did you know Mana?" he asked Tyki uncertainly. "You don't look old enough…"
Tyki's hands tightened on the steering wheel as he realized he had slipped up a little. He couldn't tell Allen the truth—he had known Mana in the early seventeenth century, before Mana decided to cut off magic and adopt a human child. Casting off magic meant Mana had been weak and losing control of what little power he had, leaving him vulnerable against Exorcists. Cross, in this case. He couldn't tell Allen that Cross had actually murdered his father.
"I was young," Tyki admitted, and that was not quite a lie.
"So you don't remember him well?" Allen asked.
"I remember he was a clown," Tyki responded. He was relieved to see Allen smile as he looked out the window to watch the scenery go by, no doubt lost in memory, what little of it he had of a man he knew two centuries ago. Tyki imagined it couldn't be much more than a few memories that would fit in the modern world as easily as it did then.
When the manor came into view, Tyki broke the silence.
"When we get back, there is some time where all of the students gather together to do homework in the Thinking Room."
Allen recalled the previous day.
"Jerry brings snacks, right?" he questioned.
Tyki pulled onto the road leading to their property.
"Yes, but it isn't much. By Earl's request, all of the students have to do their homework, and participate in quiet time until the two hours are up," Tyki told him. "Jerry can only give you snacks during this time. After that, from five to six, we have family bonding time before dinner, so it will be a while before we eat anything substantial."
"Right. Dinner at seven," Allen recalled, hoping he would be able to remember all of that. He wasn't sure he could.
Tyki pulled into the driveway, parking it behind Lulubell's van. He led Allen up to the Thinking Room, where everyone was silently getting out their homework. Allen was greeted with a few hesitant smiles (and ignored by the twins, which was just as well). Lavi patted the seat next to him, and Allen took it since he didn't trust his relatives.
Once everyone got to work, Allen began to work, Allen began to focus on his assignments. The twins sat in the bean bags b the window, working on writing assignments. Wisely sat on the floor-couch with Lavi and Allen. He was laying half on the floor, his legs draped over the back as he read a textbook for Government. Road was on her stomach on the carpet, earbuds in and dolls in hand. Lavi was coloring a map from Tyki's class. Allen himself had the same assignment, Geometry homework. And a reading assignment for English. He was half-way done when Tyki came to join them in the Thinking Room bearing snacks.
"Jerry had to start dinner, since he forgot about the amount of food we need," he explained, setting a tray of sliced oranges, cookies, and small bottles of juice on the ground. Everyone went after the snacks, hungry since it had been hours since they had eaten lunch. Tyki remained, eyeing Road disapprovingly. "Road, have you done your homework?"
"Of course not," she responded. Allen was shocked by her bluntness. "You weren't here to help me."
Allen noted that Tyki had showered and changed into loose garments. He had also switched out his contacts for the hideous glasses.
"You can ask me questions, but I won't do your homework for you," Tyki reminded her. "I can only help you find the solution. And that will take more time than doing it yourself."
Road pouted, and reluctantly pulled her messenger bag from its place against the wall.
Everyone finished—Tyki had actually been very helpful in math, despite telling Road all of the answers were three.
They nursed their juices for the remaining fifteen minutes of their two-hour quiet time. As soon as Tyki declared it was time up, Road and the twins shot out of the room like rockets. They ran through the house with exuberant wails. Lavi, too, looked excited and he tried to tug Allen along with him.
"C'mon, you should come with us and see the whole thing," Lavi told him gently, making no mention of the fact that he knew Allen had witnessed their practice the previous day.
"No, I-I'll stay with wisely," he stammered. He couldn't bring himself to go there and to listen to that song again. It was too deep for him. The way it struck a chord inside was not comfortable.
"I get migraines, so I never go," Wisely warned him. "You shouldn't stay with me.
Well, that was probably true. Being with Wisely again would make Allen tempted to punch him.
Lavi took Allen's hand and gave it a comforting squeeze, drawing the boys attention back to him.
"There's no need to be scared of music," he told Allen in a low voice.
"I'm not scared," Allen retorted. When he was given a crooked grin, he realized he had been played.
"C'mon. You're our guest of honor today," said Lavi. He pulled Allen away, towards the music room. The journey seemed to take forever, and Tyki actually walked past them when they were going too slow. Somehow, it made Allen all the more nervous.
When they came to the music room at last, everyone was ready. This time, no one had sheet music. Tyki had a microphone, Allen's Art teacher sat in a chair with a cello between his knees. Allen's first reaction was to demand what Mr. Kanda was doing in his house.
You know Earl?
We…have a history.
It was kind of self-explanatory. He was apparently in the band. It was odd to see two grown men in a band otherwise made up entirely of teenagers.
"Alright, we thought about it, and discussed it, and we want you in our band," Lavi told him. "We know you play keyboard, and all. I think you will probably have a good voice—"
"I don't like performing," Allen informed him. Lavi was not bothered.
"Neither does Yuu," he responded. Kanda glared at him. "But you can give it a try, right?"
Allen opened his mouth to (politely) reject their offer.
"Nonononono. Let him come to a few practices first," Road interrupted. "So he can see what we're like.
"Not bad," David said approvingly.
"Yeah, great idea," his twin agreed enthusiastically.
Allen snapped his mouth shut, feeling very much as if he had no say.
"You don't have to decide today," Tyki said soothingly. "We just wanted you to know that we would be happy to have you as a member of our band."
Put that way, Allen thought, I feel guilty for rejecting them.
"Tyki's right. We don't want to force you," Lavi agreed. "You can wait to decide. We actually didn't bring you here to have you join."
"Then why did you?" Allen asked curiously. Once he was sure he wouldn't be interrupted.
"We practiced a song for you," Lavi responded. "Now that we have everyone here, would you like to hear it?"
"IS it the creepy one?" Allen asked, thinking of the reaction he had to it yesterday with dread.
"Uhm…yes?" Lavi asked uncertainly.
His lips were soft, and like a slice of heaven, and it made my heart soar and shatter all at once in a terrible display. I meant nothing to him.
Allen wasn't sure where those feelings came from, but he knew he could not bear to sit and listen to the song again. It stirred up too much, upset things that sat at the bottom of his soul—for a reason, no doubt—and brought them to the surface.
"No," he said absently, almost a whisper. "Any song but that one."
There is a small reference to 3 Idiots in this.
I apologize for taking so long. If you want a genuinely accident-prone person, I am one. I few weeks ago I fell on the stairs and hurt my wrist a bit so I couldn't type stuff, and when I was ready to type it up, I manage to roll both my ankles and bruise my forearm in a way that made it ache for like a week. I will do my best to update bi-weekly, but do not be surprised if it comes out monthly, these are long chapters.
Song: Shout by Tears For Fears.
In the previous chapter, there was a reference to The Lego Movie.