Gah. Sorry again for not updating a lot. School has just been hitting me hard.
This particular story is less of a Relationship, persay, but more of a monologue. Also, I took the relationship in an unusual direction. Be sure to grill me in reviews if you don't like it.
And just because I haven't said it in a while, all characters, setting, ideas etc. belong to Riot Games, not me.
Loneliness and Sadness.
Those were two emotions that Amumu knew very well. Others in the Institute always had their friends, comrades. Those that didn't were so different and unique that they simply didn't need them. Others had things to keep them happy, ranging from fighting to arguing and from building to just having sex.
But Amumu was always alone. No one really noticed the little blue mummy standing in the corner, a small puddle of tears gathering beside him. He would sit in the mess hall, or in the library, all day. But the only people that would even notice him were his summoners, and even then, they would be speaking about his performance in battle. Why didn't they understand? He wanted a friend, not a tactician.
From time to time, he would be summoned into battle. He would get angry at the people who came and hit him, and the monsters too, but he was mostly just sad instead. And when he got out he would just sit again at a corner somewhere until it was time to sleep, and then he would get to his room.
He would walk in, wave at the sensor to activate the magical lights in the main room, and plod into the bathroom.
He entered. The lights in there were off. He kept them that way. The room was decorated in a light blue. Towels hung on the walls, but Amumu headed towards the bathtub. It was tall, and his hands barely reached the top. He reached up, grasping it, straining to pull himself up.
He finally succeeded after several minutes of exertion, hoisting himself on top of the ceramic, and lowering himself into the bathtub.
And surrounded by curtains and the ceramic bowl, Amumu sat, head hung.
The first indication was a slight sniffle. A bit of an extra gleam in his left eye, that massive yellow orb.
Then suddenly, tears poured out into the ground, streaking down the blue bandages of his oversized head, dripping off ragged sheets that hadn't been fully tucked in, pooling briefly in the bowl, before gathering in enough volume to slink into the drain in the center.
And, just like every other day, Amumu sat in the tub the entire night, and cried.
As the stars and moon slowly gave way to the light of the sun peeking out from under the sleepy folds of the hills around the Institute, Amumu's crying slowed. Now, instead of rivulets streaming down his body, only drops fell.
There was one last drop, hanging by only a thread of water- that fell.
Amumu felt the familiar pull, and was surrounded by blue light- the signature of summoning magic. An instant later, he was gone.
The droplet splashed down into the bowl; its owner- disappeared.
That match, Amumu had been on the same team as someone new- a woman called Vayne. She was dressed in dark clothes- didn't even speak a word, before heading off in a particular direction. As the match went on, it was almost as if she didn't notice her teammates, only ensuring that their opponents wound up with crossbow bolts in their hearts.
After that match, Amumu walked into his room again, thinking about the new champion. She was quiet, she kept to herself, she did her job and left.
Was she lonely?
Sitting down, not in the bathtub but this time in a chair, the mummy placed his chin on his hands in the universal sign of contemplation.
Did she have friends?
Sighing deeply, Amumu continued thinking.
Was she so bottled up because she was so lonely?
Shaking his head immediately at the thought, he lay down on his bed, thinking.
She was lonely, right? And maybe… all she wanted was a friend.
And all he wanted was to have a friend.
She would be happy to have a friend…
…Right?
His mind drifted off, imagining what it might be like to finally have a friend.
The next day, as Amumu was walking down the hallways of the Institute, he saw Vayne leaving her room, and locking it with what appeared to be multiple different security systems. Making a quick decision, the mummy quickly waddled over to her before she left the vicinity of her door.
He stumbled to a stop directly beside her. Vayne, with her tuned senses, had already turned around. All Amumu could manage to say was an "um…"
"Well?" asked Vayne, her expression and tone unreadable.
"Well Miss Vayne…" Amumu trailed off again.
"Get to the point" Vayne snapped rather harshly. Amumu shrunk down a bit.
"I was just wondering…" Amumu said, a bit hesitantly now. "Do you…" his voice got constantly quieter as he felt her eyes bore into him, even from behind her sunglasses. "do you want… to be… friends?"
"Friend?" asked Vayne incredulously. "What do you mean?" Again, this was said in a harsh and cruel tone.
"Y'know, friends play games together…" Amumu, who was already very nervous before, was now regretting ever speaking. "They tell each other secrets…." His voice trailed off, shoulders slumped, sensing the disdain emanating from the Night Hunter.
"Play games?" asked Vayne mockingly. "Tell secrets?" She snorted contemptuously. "I have no time for such nonsense." And with that, she turned and briskly began walking away. She left a mummy, simply standing there dejectedly, crushed.
He left a trail of tears as he slunk back to his room. He got in, not even bothering to turn on the lights. He tried to climb up into the bathtub, but his arms were shaking. He couldn't hoist himself above the edge of the tub.
He simply sat down in the bathroom, not even caring anymore about the water or potential damage. And the tears began to spill out.
A large drop gathered in his left eye, before beginning to streak down. Where did he mess up?
It hit the ground, as another great droplet formed in his right eye. Why did no one like him?
Tears rained down, as if chasing questions. Did Vayne really hate him so much? That she would dismiss him as simply nonsense? When would he find a friend? Did no one want to be his friend?
Soon, drops turned into small rivers. What was he doing wrong? Why did no one ever want to do something like play a game, or tell secrets? Why was he so different? What about him was so different? What did others like to do? Why didn't he like to do those things? Why did everyone seem to hate him? Why did nothing ever seem to go right?
Large drops gathered in both his eyes. They dripped down, fused at the bottom of his chin, and dripped down as a huge combined sphere of salty tears, splashing into the puddle around him.
Why?
Why was he so alone?
…Why?