As soon as Mr. Wammy set foot out of the room, the smile slipped off of L's features and he headed straight for the mass of papers on one of the beds.
Kat tilted her head at this and followed behind him, his total change in demeanor not going unnoticed.
Of course, whom ever else should they place her in a room with other than someone whom could amount to her in obstinacy? Was he just as unwilling to trust humans as well?
She frowned, letting her eyes wander around the rather luxurious and lavish room. The walls were covered in a dark navy blue, the moldings were white with little zodiac signs running along it like the doors, there were two sets of ebony doors, one of which she assumed led to a bathroom (much like the ones she was never allowed to enter back at the laboratories). A small leather couch that looked extravagantly soft was pushed against the wall in front of a coffee table, there were two shiny laptops, a monstrosity of a main computer with an abundance of wires and extensions and a solitary navy blue phone hooked up to the wall.
"So odd," She mumbled, gliding over with feline grace to the opposite side of the room.
She opened one door and found a completely granite and marble bathroom with silver fixtures and plumbing.
She shook her head, raven and porcelain locks flying everywhere. Was this not called "spoiling" children?
She closed the door and went to the other one.
L glanced up every once in a while to observe the feline girl, watching her reactions (ranging from awe to curiosity and nothing in between) and making his own evaluations.
Biting his thumb, he sent a pointed glare at her; why did that pair her up with him? It was preposterous and out of the question. She probably never had to lift a finger a day in her life, but his childhood…
Kat opened the door and gasped.
There were just so many clothes and outfits!
Cautiously walking in, she noticed that a good deal of the clothes were for the boy, L, and the other half were for her.
Beautiful cheongsams made of scarlet dyed silk, stockings, slippers and then there were the western influenced clothing; dresses, blouses, and trousers by the dozens! (Well, not dozen, per say, and she just glowered at the footwear, not at all fond of the odd contraptions)
Her lips twitched up at all the luxuries, still trying to figure out if it was just a disturbingly vivid dream.
With a skip in her strut, she came out but became stock still as her neon green eyes met gray ones that were narrowed into a glare. Why was L glaring at her? Looking at her like that? She suppressed a frown; humans were so mind-boggling, especially the miniature ones.
Shaking her head, she walked to the window, curling up against the sill with her head on top of her crossed arms (which were on top of her knees).
She gazed out of the window, settling for observing the smaller humans run around.
It certainly was more productive than trying to wait for who would blink in a staring contest between herself and L.
-
It was a dark, foggy morning, silent as the grave; all the children were in a bed and dreaming peacefully of candy and other materialistic things…at the ungodly hour of morning that Kat awoke from a fitful slumber.
She was gasping, images from the nightmare flashing before her eyes: the flickers of scarlet, the high pitched screams the loud booms and bangs and flashes of guns, the burnt smell of gun powder.
She curled herself up into a small ball, wrapping her arms and tail around her knees, letting the silent tears fall onto her sweat pants. Soft hiccups left her lips, shrouding the whimpers and soft mews.
Night and night again did this happen to her, the same reoccurring nightmare, unchanging but more frightful with time. She was terrified right down to her core.
L winced with every single one of her hiccups.
The girl had woken up every night at precisely four thirty in the morning since the month she was at the Wammy House.
Another two reasons why he did not like to sleep: His own nightmares and the fact that he only got to sleep an hour after she did, which would be around three in the morning.
Her soft and sorrowful mews truly did sounds like a kitten crying. He squeezed his eyes shut and curled himself up more. At least she was not asking to sleep in his bed like any other girl her age would. But he could not blame her; he had ignored her existence for a reasonably long time, thinking it would be a total waste of his time and effort.
Kat took a deep breath and wiped her tears away, not fully comprehending why her eyes were leaking when she woke up. Sliding off the bed, she listlessly trudged to the window, watching the sun rise in all of its glorious shades of pinks yellow and blues. She could just imagine herself running through the snow laden ground or behaving like any other child; be given the privilege of enjoying the smells and sounds that the morning brought without being stared at or criticized.
She glances at L through the corner of her eyes at the now sleeping L. She felt immensely guilty that she woke him up with her.
The boy rarely got any sleep as is, and with her waking him up so early in the mornings, it was not bound to be healthy.
Then, an idea struck her.
She jumped from the window sill to her own bed in one single bound, pulling on the oversized t-shirt that she had placed on one of the bed posts the night before. After that, she proceeded to run out the door, sliding to a halt in the hallway before sprinting along on all fours, dodging the occasional caretaker or running on the walls when tuning the sharp corners.
The boy, L, did not like her for some reason she could not completely fathom. Maybe she had done something offensive? Yet, how could she? She rarely ever spoke a word, so that theory was moot. She had heard the other children saying that he preferred quiet over being outside with thunderous and loquacious kids.
She dodged the custodial lady, (said lady crossed herself after jumping out of the way).
Maybe he did not like to be observed? However, he had never objected to her when she looked at his actions with wide eyes, trying to mimic how regular children acted.
That, conversely, proved fruitless.
He was not normal, and was just as much an outcast as Kat.
She stopped suddenly, skidding on the floor boards before clumsily pushing the doors open with only her index finger.
A grin took over her features as she jumped onto the counter, searching through all of the cabinets to retrieve a tea set and other miscellaneous sweets. She treaded slowly now, being careful with the porcelain and hot liquids.
-
L woke but did not open his eyes. He felt a pressure shifting from side to side on his legs.
Who is idiotic enough to do this? He thought, very much irate.
He gave a resigned sigh before his eyes opened.
And then he met: Big. Neon. Green. Slitted. Eyes. Staring. At. Him. While. He. Slept!
So surprised was he, he ended up backing up against the headboard, startled that the feline girl had chosen to give him such a rude awakening.
"What do you think you are doing?" He asked; the fury showing through the tenor of his voice only.
Kat furrowed her brows as her ears went flat against her head. She placed the tray on the bed and jumped to her own sullenly.
It was only then that L bothered to look down at what she had brought into their room.
A tea set, sugar cubes, and an assortment of sweets. But why would she do that…? Had he not been rude and inhospitable with her or was his mind playing tricks on him? But, then his eyes settled on the note next to the tea set. "Sorry" written in illegible English than repeated over again he assumed, in about ten other languages. The characters looking more like art than words.
He spared a glance at her; she was fixing up her bed, tail limp, ears flat. Why was she apologizing? Did she think she did something wrong?
An unsettling feeling developed in his stomach, it churned uncomfortably as his heart suddenly fell into it and he felt a bit sick. He could not ignore this and just go down to the mess hall to eat, that would be wrong and he did not want to waste good sweets.
His head snapped up as he heard a sigh; she was staring at the camera that was in the corner of the room, before she ripped her shirt off (revealing the bandages underneath, and grabbed her fur lined coat.
He barely caught her rapid movements as she slipped out the door and from the dull thud he heard, fell onto all fours and left.
-
Kat was wholly perturbed; humans were nothing but irritating little puzzles.
She tested the waters to check for a snake and it turned out there was a hippopotamus in its stead.
She had tried to offer a peace offering, perhaps get him to forgive whatever she had done to make him act so surly with her and he outright refused to even acknowledge it, tell her what was bothering him or what she had done.
She mewed loudly, followed by a growl, upset with running altogether.
She scanned the corridors until her keen eyes found a window down the hall, and then she set off.
Opening the latch she balanced herself on the ledge, balls of her feet and palms gripping the sill, turning her emerald irises to the ground. The moist air blew into her face sharply, the humidity in the air was sharp in contrast to the recycled air of the orphanage. She could hear the slight how of a wolf far off in the distance.
She launched herself off of the ledge and let the wind caress her as she free fell to the ground.
At the last possible moment, right before she went "splat" against the ground, she twisted her body, landing on all fours and bouncing a bit on the ground to make sure she did not injure herself in any way. When her self-examination was over she began sprinting to a big secluded oak tree, a fair distance from the courtyard.
-
L's eyes were the size of saucers by the time the spectacle was over. She had just jumped three stories down into the gloppy, despicable sludge called snow, and ran off with out a scratch on her. The wailing screams of terror and bellows of commands were ear shattering as the caretakers tried to regain some sort of control over the children. His trembling hand, paler than usual for he had blanched, had long ago dropped his tea spoon.
She could've died! Did she not comprehend the boundaries between life and death?! Was she merely insane or suicidal?!
Two deeps voices were than heard, much too low-pitch to be any of the older boys. L walked over to the door, peeking out into the hallway furtively.
"Do not worry, she can survive many larger falls, she is, after all, part cat." Mr. Wammy assured that frantic and hysteric crowd. He turned to the double doors, smiling slightly when he saw it closing slightly, a flash of ink black hair disappearing.
"Roger, could you please take care of this? I must go check up on L, then on Kat," He addressed his friends, already walking away and disregarding when Roger gave him a distressed glare.
Mr. Wammy scuttled over to the doors, entering without a word. He closed is behind him, softly inquiring, "Are you alright, L?"
"Yes," But Mr. Wammy caught the uncertainty laced within the reclusive child's tone as he made his way over to said boy.
He made note of the china set bared in front of L.
"Did she bring you breakfast?" He asked, remembering the little scene from the observation room. The guard was kind enough to wave him over when it happened.
"Yes, actually," L paused, reaching for a Madeleine cake. "However, at first, I was unsure why, until I found this note." He held up the paper for Mr. Wammy to see, looking at the table as he sipped his tea. "I do not know why she is apologizing. Trifling really." He swirled the spoon in his tea.
Mr. Wammy raised and eyebrow, seeing that there were two cookies left untouched.
"L, are you finished? Aren't you going to eat that?" He questioned, piecing together why the child might not want to.
L lifted his frail body off of the bed, wrapping the cookies in a napkin. "No."
Mr. Wammy forced the urge to smile down. "Then, do you wish to accompany me to see Kat?"
Typically, L did not answer the man's question, choosing rather to half put on some sneakers and a coat, and then walk down the stairs in his hunched way.
He would much rather show the older man his answer than waste it on unneeded words.
-
She clawed at the bare tree, kicked it, and punched it in her special style of the Brazilian Capoeira, mixing in some other martial arts.
She winced a few times when the wood made a squeaky sound or anything that seemed unpleasant. She was hardly breaking a sweat, and that made her anger flicker. Why did she suddenly feel that it was far more exhilarating to dodge bullets, have them scrape against her after narrowly missing them and force back all of the tortures than being a normal humans?
She backed up a few paces before charging the tree, jumping in the air and spin kicking it.
"Ningen kareraha hijixyouni iraira suru 'n desu…" She murmured crossly, falling into a meditation pose, trying to bring her temper down. Humans, they are so frustrating.
She breathed deep breaths, clearing her head, ignoring the world around her to an extent. Dull crushing noises in the white snow alerted her to the people approaching, but she did not care. They most likely were going to try and check up on her.
"Kat, dear?" That kind yet raucous voice lifted her from the option of ignorance.
"Yes, Mr. Wammy, may I help you?" She asked, her quiet voice seeming to fit in with the peaceful landscape.
"We came down to see if you were alright, dear," He mentioned, something shifting next to him. Had he brought an emotion ridden child with him? One that needed assurance that she was, indeed, still among the living?
"And I presume that you are referring to when I jumped out of the window? Yes, that was just an impatient habit; I am sorry if it frightened you or the other tenants," she muttered, she truly had no idea what the words "apologize" and "sorry" meant but she thought that it was fitting to the situation given what she observed form the daily life in the orphanage.
Her eyes opened, and she twisted around, intending to see Mr. Wammy, but instead was met face to face with a boy with ink black hair and gunmetal gray eyes. He had gotten too close to her.
"Sorry, I did not know that would alarm you," He held off saying her name.
Kat sighed, placing her hand to her hear. "Do not worry, I should truly be used to it by now."
A tense silence in which only the soft whistle of the wind could be heard.
"Um." L took out a bundle from what Kat could tell, the nice aroma of chocolate drifting out and permeating the air. "I brought you this, I noticed that you did not bring in your own breakfast so, yes," He rambled, holding the bundle out.
She took it in her hands delicately, a grin pulling at the corner of her lips. "Thank you." And with that she placed a little piece of the sweet in her mouth, offering the other cookie to the male, by now full out beaming.