FML

A Hayate the Combat Butler Fic

By

EvilFuzzy9

A/N: Since I haven't said so yet: Thanks to PlushiexLover, Flare Region, Gitah-Muttan (every time I see that username, I wanna read it as "Get a mutton"), NR, and Shuji Nonohana (!) for reviewing so far. Haha, I wasn't sure of this fic at first, considering the ambiguous reception the first chapter got, but people seem to like it, and I suppose it's filling a niche that is sorely neglected (as far as I can tell) in the HnG section.

Though I might end up having to edit the summary and genre of this fic, since it's lot less "sarcastic snarking" and a lot more "melodramatic monologue-ing" (monologuing, it would seem, is not considered a real word by FF dot net's spellcheck. I am disappoint D:) than I had originally intended. But the audience seems to like the way it's going, and my angsty muse, DEF, has not been this happy since I wrote A Monster, From the Right Perspective, so, eh, what the heck.

Now, without further ado, here is the next installment of FML!

To serve is the lot of the butler. To fight is the lot of the soldier. To love is the lot of the lover. ... But to get screwed over by the universe time and again? THAT is the lot of one Hayate Ayasaki, cosmic plaything and full-time woobie.

And this is his story.

It's so hard to find a job. It really is.

Especially since I'm too young to be legally employed.

And that's the crux of the issue, isn't it? I'm just a child - or so adults tell me - and a child should not be looking for work in the first place. As a child, I should be making friends, going to school, enjoying my youth. Money and employment are things that only grown ups should have to worry about. I should forget about such things and go out and play with others my own age. I am but a child, after all, and such is a child's role.

That's what they say, anyways. But what do they know? They don't understand anything about what my life is like. And that is not for lack of effort, on my part.

Not at all.

I try to tell them. I try so hard. But they never take me seriously. No, they just smile and nod and pat me on the head and say "That's nice, Hayate." They refuse to listen to me. They refuse to take me seriously. But they are not the worst. No, not even close. Such people who refuse to take me seriously or believe what I say... I cannot hold it against them.

After all, how could they, who have never seen such hardships as I have, who have never been so neglected, possibly fathom what my life is like? They, who have loving families and happy homes, could never even begin to understand what it is like. They, who have never seen the worst of humanity, simply can not - simply will not - believe that such horrible people could ever exist.

And I cannot fault them for that.

Because even I have trouble believing it.

No, the worst are those who do listen – those who hear what I say and understand what it means. Those are the worst. Because even they, who understand what I have to say and who know that no child should ever have to live like I do... Even those few adults who do see the truth never bother to do anything.

Yes, they do nothing. They never bother to take me away, or to report Those Two. To the police, to child services, to anyone at all. No, they simply stand by and smile and say that they understand and they care.

You know, I really do hate liars. More than anything - perhaps save Those Two - liars are the worst. Hypocrites come a close second. But I hate liars most of all.

"Evil triumphs when good men do nothing." That's a saying which I have often heard. But it is a fallacy.

Because how can you call good he who would abide evil to flourish unchecked?

- Hayate Ayasaki

A/N: Happy birthday to me. Yaaay.

Since I'm still stuck on chapter fourteen of ONNHc!, here's another chapter of FML. Ah, I like this chapter, but I'm also a little disappointed, since I had wanted to make it a patten where every chapter ends on the words "fuck my life", but I couldn't really think of any way to shoehorn it in without it seeming forced. So, yeah.

On the subject of writing chapters, the way I write this fic is very... err... I dunno, very something. It's basically stream of consciousness (as you can probably tell from the way I started this chapter talking about jobs and ended it on moralistic rhetoric about guilty bystanders), and I basically just write until the words stop flowing out. ... and I just got a major sense of deja vu, all of a sudden, while typing this up...

Eh, whatever.

Also, for future reference (for myself and anyone else who cares):

[This chapter was uploaded Saturday, 10/29/2011]

[Previous chapter was uploaded Monday, 10/24/2011]

[First chapter was uploaded Thursday, 10/20/2011]

TTFN and R&R!