I DO NOT OWN ZATCH BELL

"Urg-ga! Why must I mess up all the time?" Zeno hollared as he punched a wall. "I can't seem to do anything right! I'm a loser, a freak!" He put his aching hand against the walls, bracing himself for his overwhelming anxiety. "First I confess my past to her, then I'm nice to her, then I abuse her, then I tell her she has pretty hair... Ugh!" He sighed. He asked himself quietly, "Why can't I do anything right? I'm a rejected being. Always was, always will be."

Flashback:(I'm making up the story as I go along. I don't really know how he got deported to coaches. All I know is Zatch's care-taker, he was with low level mampdo to not be corrupted, and Zeno was in training. Thanks Wikipedia! :))

"ZENO, GET DOWN HERE!" Zeno winced as his father called to him. His father, the king, had nothing nice to ever say to Zeno or his brother. Recently, discovering that Zatch had inherited the Bao, he was sent down to the lowest of the low mamodo, in hopes of not being corrupted. Zatch had rarely wrote back, and when he did, it seemed as though he was hiding something. He trudged to his father's conference room, three stories down. The beauiful marble stairs glinted in gold as the sunlight hit the white room, which had in it two red velvet chairs and one little oak table. It had a feeling of emptiness in it. Their home life was one of no love. Their father too busy for them, or too filled with contempt to see them. Their birth mother was long gone. They never asked what happened to her. Their only love was each other, and few, very very few, friends, and other family that only came by once every couple years.

He finally approached the conference room. The silver doors were immensely large, and inside, his chubby father, wearing a humble gold crown, motioned for his son to seat himself at the other side of a long glass table. His father was middle-age. He had a five-o'clock shadow, the beginning of wrinkles, and saggy skin. A red, long-sleeved shirt dressed him today, with a purple, flashy cape. He tried not to show fear, or wince at the overwhelming stench of unnecessary panic inside of him. "Zeno, as you know, your brother has been sent away-" Zeno nodded. "-because he inherited the Bao. Now, in order to be great and possibly defeat him in the battle for king, you must undergo military training." Zeno wasn't suprised. He and his brother trained for the future. He was pushed more though, because he was the older twin. Until they found out about Zatch. "YOu will be pushed a little harder than your used to." His majesty had a hint of mockery in his tone. "Do you think you can handle it?" Zeno tried not to grind his teeth or narrow his eyebrows.

"Yes father."

"Good." His father smiled. "Because you know-what do you know son?" Zeno poorly sucked in a breath. He spoke in pure monotone, almost robotic.

"Weakness is never allowed in this home. Vulnerablity results in disownership. We must always be strong. Never hide, never run, confront always. We must beat up our fears, or we can no longer call ourselves the king's sons, or even boys for that matter." Zeno finished. His eyes traveled downcast. He seemed to know what his father stood for. Zatch, however, was having it beaten into him with threats, extra training, and once, he was kicked out over night. Zeno saw him the next day at the park, not crying, but just staring off into space. He begged his father to let him come back, he was on his knees. He had a week of extra training for that. Zatch was unusually cold and distant for two weeks. Probably just getting over the shock of being kicked out.

"Very good. Up to your room." His fathwer shooed him away, and Zeno quickly walked out of the throne room. Zeno smiled at the thought of Zatch. Zatch was such a good soul. Who could he possibly hurt? Zeno felt deep longing for his twin, as he opened his door to the blank purple room, that had nothing in it but an empty closet, a white dresser, and a grey bed. He began to pack.

END FLASHBACK:

"Weakness is never allowed in this home," He muttered to himself. "And now I have shown her weakness." He made up his mind to not give her dinner that night, to prove he wasn't weak. He guiltily got ready for bed, and as he closed his eyes, his last thought was Tia has a cute face.