The Flower Shop of Insomnia

by Vanya Heart

Outside of home, Toris is the perfect child - always getting straight A's and on good behavior - but at home, he's a "monster". When, one day, he gets angry at his mother, Toris winds up at a strange flower shop, and meets a strange, troubling boy, who he CAN'T get out of his head. AU. Rated M for cussing and murder. LietRuss.

2. Chapter 2 - A Beautiful Depression

The Flower Shop of Insomnia

Chapter 2 ~ A Beautiful Depression

The beautiful sound of applause reached Toris' ears as he pulled his fingers away from the glistening, white keys. Children and adults alike rose from their seats with wide, proud, and disbelieved smirks on their faces. The announcer chuckled something good-naturedly into the microphone, causing the crowd to snicker, and Toris blushed hotly at them, his face resembling a rose in full bloom. "T-thank you." He stammered softly, although his voice was not heard above the applause; all the previous fire and strength that had been inside Toris' body seemed to have left him at the end of his performance. Still, he knew that he was talented – singing while playing the piano was one of his best talents, aside from studying like crazy – and everyone seemed to love it. Stage hands crept up the black steps as Toris descended them, and he watched the large, muscular boys take the piano between the lot of them, and hoist it into the air. They were extremely careful with it, and did not even come close to dropping it – it was Mister Edelstein's, and he had violently threatened to tear the hair off of anyone who was careless enough with it to damage it.

"Toris! You played wonderfully!" Said teacher praised when the boy walked down the stairs and into the curtained off area of the stage, where the rest of the children with following acts awaited their turns. Mister Edelstein's hard blue eyes were shining with enthusiasm, something they didn't do very often, and his mouth even looked close to smiling. Toris was his best student, and he always payed the child more attention than he did to anyone else in his class; this was something Toris loved, although it made him feel terrible, taking away other kids' attention. "Did you compose that song yourself?" Mister Edelstein inquired, fiddling with his wide, square glasses as he did so. His eyebrows furrowed a bit then, and he added, "It didn't sound...usual."

A shadow of a smile crossed the timid Toris' lips, and he stared down at his feet, flustering an even hotter shade of red. It had been a month into school, a month since he had met the strange little boy at the flower shop; he had just finished performing in his school's annual talent show. "Well, sir," He began cautiously, twisting his feet a bit, for he always felt a tad bit uncomfortable under any adult's gaze. "I usually compose songs about..." He trailed off, not wanting to say 'myself'. What if Mister Edelstein called child protective services? The last time a teacher had done that, Toris' mother and father had been furious. It had been Ravis' fault, wearing a short-sleeved shirt to school when he had apparent bruises on his arms, but Toris had taken the blame, saying he got angry and told purposefully to cause his parents trouble. His parents didn't know which teacher called the CPS, so they had believed Toris automatically (he was the trouble-maker, after all), and once they were no longer under supervision, Toris' father had made sure he was unable to sit for a week.

"Well?" Mister Edelstein's sharp voice broke Toris away from his disdainful thoughts. The teacher's eyebrows were now crushed all the way down upon his eyes – a certain sign that he was either annoyed or concerned over something – and his thin, white hands were resting upon his hips. "What was different about this song, Toris?" He prodded.

Forcing his head to rise, Toris looked straight into his music teacher's navy eyes. "This song was different, because it was darker." He emphasized softly, smooth, white face shining in the yellow light of the gymnasium. He felt as if he were acting a bit defiant, raising his head as such, and suddenly Toris felt his lip began to tremble. How dare you betray me at this moment. He thought to himself, snorting with discontentment and lowering his head once more.

A short laugh came from Mister Edelstein, and, removing one hand from his hip, he pushed the hair out of his eyes, and began adjusting his glasses once more. "Most of your songs are dark, boy." He stated; Toris flinched at this, for whenever Mister Edelstein called someone 'boy' or 'girl', it meant he was not happy.

He's irritated at me. Toris wracked his brain for an excuse, but, in reality, he couldn't fathom a reason why this song was different than his usual ones. After a moment of rolling over words in his head, he finally came up with a decent reply. "In this song, the point is not focused on one person's agony." He explained quietly, speaking in a monotonous voice that he used often in school. "This song is about duo pain – two people discovering each others secrets – and the stronger person is trying to aid the weaker one, even though it's hard for that person, as they have their own demons to deal with." Feeling satisfied, Toris gave his teacher a very slight smile. However, Mister Edelstein did not smile back, or seemed pleased for that matter.

After a moment of silence, the man shook his head, causing a single, untidy cowlick on the top of his head to bounce up and down. "No..." He sighed, staring up at the ceiling, as if it would give him answers. Finally, he stuck one index finger into the air, and his face lit up a bit. "Oh, I know." Mister Edelstein said excitedly (if you could call it excitement; it was a very minor amount of excitement). "I see what you're hiding." The man accused, jabbing his finger towards Toris' face, and causing the child to jump a step back in return. "This song...is really a love song."

It felt as if someone had dumped ice-water over Toris' head when he was sleeping. "N-no, M-Mister Edelstein!" He yelped, unnerved. That was impossible! Before he could stop himself, Toris' shoulders were quivering, and his hands shaking gently against his sides. "It's not a love song, sir!" He desperately whined, trying to convince the man to the best of his ability. Toris' green eyes were gigantic and frightened-looking, and he really did fit the description of 'a deer caught in the headlights'. "T-they are just f-friends, sir." He pushed.

"...hmf." Mister Edelstein grunted after a while, and pretended as if he were not interested in his ace pupil for just a moment; he let his dark eyes wander across the other students, and tapped his conductors stick against his knee. When he looked back down at Toris, his mouth was a straight line. "This song is about real people." He observed coolly, nodding his head. "Are you, perhaps, the person who will take the summer sunflowers, and free the caged butterfly from it's rotted-tar prison?" When Toris did not respond, the music teacher smiled – yes, he actually smiled – wryly and knowingly. His smirk brought up the corners of his mouth, making his little dark mole move up in the slightest. His smile did not last for long, although he seemed somehow proud that he had made Toris pale with mortification. "Ah, what do I know?" Mister Edelstein asked himself with a sarcastic flick of his graceful hands. "I'm just a professor in music."

Toris focused his eyes on the floor once more. "I didn't mean to make it sound like a love song..." He murmured guiltily, shrugging his shoulders upwards.

"I know." Mister Edelstein said sympathetically, and he patted Toris on the head. "Now, the talent show is coming to a conclusion, why don't you head on to your next class..."

"Bro, you like, did awesome in the talent show." Feliks was chattering on as Toris desperately tried to focus on his lungs not caving in. Unfortunately for his friend and he, they were stuck with sixth period P.E. Of all the things Toris was good at, physical education was not one of them.

Licking his dried lips, Toris slowly nodded. "Y-yeah." He croaked, throat feeling like tightly adjusted guitar strings, ready to snap at any moment. "T-thank y-you." He rasped, choking on his own saliva as he spoke and having to pause on the lap he was running to catch some breath. The boy's shoulders heaved up and down pathetically, and it felt as if his side were on fire. Toris really hated running; the whole sport of it was incomprehensible to him, and each time his coach made them run the mile, it felt like punishment.

Noticing his student's pause of activity, the coach rose to to his feet from the blacktop he had been languidly sitting on and leaning against the bathroom building. "Pick up the pace, Toris!" He snapped, sharp blue eyes glittering like glaciers beneath the rays of sunlight. Toris didn't like Coach's eyes that much, as they sort of reminded him of his mother, although he knew Coach wasn't a bad person. He was just a grumpy old German who seemed set on telling no one his last name, and resorted to being called just 'Coach'. "Come, come," The man urged, his wide muscles rippling beneath his white man-tank-top that he wore. Toris couldn't help but stare at them as he gulped. "you only have one more lap left. Don't give up now." Coach said calmly, cracking his knuckles in front of him.

Nodding obediently, Toris stiffened his back and swallowed, trying to wet his dry, wind-whipped throat. "I'm so sorry sir..." He said quietly, stretching his arms around in an attempt to loosen the tight, sore muscles in his back – his back seemed to always be so sore – and rolling his shoulders. Ignoring a snort and snide comment from Feliks about Coach's 'useless abs', Toris turned to finish his lap. However, just as he began running, a voice called out to him. Upon the sound of his name, Toris stopped, so abruptly in fact that his body was launched forwards and he fell face down into the dampened grass beneath him.

"Ah, Toris, are you okay-?" A soft and courteous voice began, from not far behind him. Feliks was helping his friend to his feet when Toris turned to see who had addressed him. Much to his surprise, it was his English teacher, Mister Kirkland, a strange British man with humorously thick eyebrows. Mister Kirkland sometimes pulled Toris out of P.E. (which the child was quite grateful for) so that he could help the teacher with some of his work. Toris himself loved English, and his teacher loved having a bright aid whom he claimed could grade papers 'as well as any wanking American college grad'.

However Coach despised the British man.

"Oh, nein, you are not checking him out again." Coach growled, whirling angrily to face Mister Kirkland and giving him a rather-impressive death glare. Compared to Coach, Mister Kirkland looked like a spaghetti-armed little girl, although the man himself didn't seem to see that. He stood up to Coach as if he were a giant, and everyone else around him were ants. This display of false strength agitated German coach even more, and his chest seemed to puff up with annoyance as he grunted. "You check him out almost every other day!" He snapped. "And then Edelstein takes him from me on the days when you don't! The boy's not that much of a genius, and to keep his mind healthy, he needs exercise."

It made Toris a bit chagrin to be addressed in such a way. In his mind, Coach was speaking of him as if he were almost an object, or an animal. There are certain ways an animal must be raised. Toris thought to himself numbly, then stared down at his toes with nonchalant, green eyes. Feliks nudged his ribcage with an elbow, but the latter didn't move.

Peering over the tall German man's shoulder, Mister Kirkland seemed to notice Toris' distress. "Come now," He chided Coach in a motherly tone. "is all you're capable of insulting children?" Sniffing impudently, he strode past Coach, purposefully bumping shoulders with him as he went by. "Toris, can you come with me?" He asked politely when he was standing directly in front of the boy. "I need some extra help around the classroom."

Looking towards Coach despairingly, Toris found himself unable to respond. He didn't want to displease either of his teachers, though if he really had to choose what he wanted, he would go with his English teacher. Coach returned him a look of blank, dead emotion, and Toris soon found he was on his own. I'm supposed to choose what's right... He told himself, although he felt quite confused. R-right...? Taking a deep breath, Toris turned to Mister Kirkland, and tried to look him straight in the eyes. However, his gaze wavered, and he soon found himself staring at his shoes and quivering. "I-I need to b-be in this class right now, Mister Kirkland, s-sir." He stuttered, hating himself for that.

For a moment a strange look crossed Mister Kirkland's countenance. Toris couldn't tell which emotion the teacher was feeling, but it looked a little bit like disappointment, mingled with guilt and anger. No sooner had the look crossed Mister Kirkland's face then it disappeared, and the man turned to give Coach a hard, stony glare. "I'm not as daft as you are to believe." He muttered in a low growl, then came forwards and began hissing inaudible things into Coach's ears. Toris couldn't make out what they were saying but he caught the words 'locker room' and 'bruises'. A shudder was transferred from Toris' neck, all the way throughout the rest of his body as he stared and wondered what they were talking about.

"Toris," Coach's hard and emotionless voice snapped the boy out of his thoughts. He raised his head hurriedly, nipping at his lower lip and pondering the possibility that he may have done something wrong, unintentionally. "go continue your lap." Coach said again.

"Yes, sir." Toris nodded dumbly, then turned and ran.

Having no car of his own, Toris had to ride his bike all the way down to the middle school where his brothers attended. Eduard was in seventh grade, and Ravis in sixth. It was a hot day, and the sun pounded upon the boy's back as he biked along, causing sweat to seep from his pores and stain the light gray T-shirt he was wearing. His shoulder bag backpack bounced heavily against his hip as he rode, causing pain to shoot up his leg every once in a while. Ah, I'm so weak... He told himself sorrowfully as he arrived at the back gates of the school and parked his bike against the side of the fence. His high school got out earlier than the middle school – Toris was dismissed at 2:00, while his brothers weren't allowed to leave until 2:45 – but the ride to the school usually took about thirty minutes, and Toris had come slowly today, mind still contemplating Coach and Mister Kirkland's odd behavior, so he was later than usual.

The sixth graders seemed to have been given a free period today, as instead of being in class, they were roaming about on the grassy playground, and rolling around with one another. Squeals of delight and happiness echoed all around him, and Toris felt a lump rise to his throat. He wished he could return to his innocent days of middle school...everything seemed to get worse and worse the more he aged.

On top of the red and blue, shimmering slide stood Ravis, with his chest pushed out triumphantly. It was quite an odd thing to see, as Ravis hardly ever looked proud of himself, but the boy did at the moment. Other children were dancing around the base of the slide and yelling things up at him, but the blue-eyed boy only waved a thin stick he had in his hand at them, and howled words back. His mouth was pulled back in a wide, laughing grin, and he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself. Look at you, you little knight. Toris chuckled with amusement.

Something fluttering and pink caught the edge of Toris' vision, and he slowly rotated his head to glance to the left of him. At the corner of the playground, beneath a huge willow tree, a figure was kneeling with it's hands cupped out in front of itself. Toris had never taken any particular interest in any of the other sixth graders, but this one piqued his interest for some reason. What are they doing...? He asked himself, curiosity overcoming him as he daintily crept forwards and watched the child through the fence. When he got close enough, a weird feeling of warmth washed over his stomach. It was him – the child who worked at the flower shop – it was the boy called Ivan.

"Hello little friend." Ivan whispered as Toris neared him, causing the elder to think he was speaking to him. The boy was just about to say a greeting in return, when he noticed the large, green praying mantis that was crawling across the child's hands. "Don't be afraid." The boy purred softly. "I won't hurt you." He assured, lavender eyes glittering with gentle amusement.

Finding this extremely cute, Toris decided to remain mute, and simply observe. His lips twitched into a smirk as the boy continued crooning over the insect in his hands, allowing it to crawl from fingertip to fingertip without a single grimace of disgust, or show of violence. So he goes to Ravis' school... Toris thought absentmindedly as he twined his first two fingers into the wire of the gate separating him from school grounds, and stared at Ivan.

Humming, the child set the praying mantis on the ground, at the base of the tree, and watched it with fascination, a grin spreading across his features. His mouth opened, as if he were about to say something, but he was cut of before much could escape his lips. Seemingly from no where, a foot shot down, and landed with a sickening crunch upon the praying mantis' fragile exoskeleton. A cry of anguish exited Ivan's mouth, and he fell backwards onto his back; Toris gasped along with him, glancing up to spot a posse of lanky black haired children. "Y-you murdered her!" Ivan shrieked upon the sight of them, latching his gaze upon the one who had done the deed: the tallest, who had dark almond eyes, and a mouth resembling a straight line.

Unsmiling, the leader of the gang ground his foot upon the poor bug's carcass. His minions snickered behind him, but he remained emotionless. "It." He spoke coldly. "No she. It." Removing his foot, he inspected the muck left behind on his shoe, then wiped it coolly onto the grass.

Tears sprouted in Ivan's eyes and he leaped to his feet, his tiny chest heaving up and down. Toris remained speechless as he watched the whole scene, his heart fluttering up into his head and giving him a headache. "W-why did you do that!?" Ivan prodded mournfully, his tiny fists clenching and unclenching with fury. He was so much smaller than all the other boys, it seemed. "She wasn't hurting anybody!" He croaked.

The boy grunted in response, sighing in a bored sort of way at the whimpering boy before him. "Bug don't care." He put in blatantly, shrugging his small shoulders in such a way that his jet black hair swished around his face. "Bug don't feel." He continued, then reached forwards and planted his hand upon Ivan's head, digging his fingers into the boy's lovely ashen hair. "Bug has no soul, like you. It a freak of nature, like you. Praying mantis live only to reproduce, then it die...but Ivan can't even do that."

Ivan didn't respond to the boy's touch, or his jibes, instead he only let his eyes fall to the ground. Tears crept out of his eyes and dripped down his cheeks, sliding down his nose in little rivers of transparent liquid, and falling upon the corpse of his dead insect friend. One of the other boys snickered at this. "Look, Kiku, he's crying." He laughed. The one called Kiku smiled at this, and removed his hand from Ivan's head. "We should take his scarf, Kiku. Only babies keep things that old, and wear it all the time."

The slightest look of merriment passed through Kiku's eyes, and he cocked his head to the side with a sigh. "Perhaps we shall." He muttered, brown eyes shining darkly, and lips pressed into a hard, straight line the color of paste.

Before they could do anything else, Toris stepped in. Although he was barred behind the fence, he was bigger than them still, and sometimes, that's all it took to scare a bully. Putting on his most authoritative voice, he cracked down upon them suddenly, "HEY!" He snapped, so harshly that all of them, including Ivan, flinched and whipped around. Casting disapproving glares upon the lot of them, Toris resumed his lecture. "You leave Ivan alone now, or I'll go up to the office and get you all suspended." It wasn't exactly the best threat, but it was all that Toris could come up with at the moment.

Fortunately for him, Kiku seemed concerned for his standing in school at least, for his mouth opened into an 'o' of shock. "We did nothing!" He exclaimed, aghast. Slowly, he started backing away, afraid of the stranger addressing him from outside of the gates. "You...do not tell, please." The former confidence in the child's voice melted away, and was replaced by an eerie sound of fear and bafflement. His friends all looked at him accusingly, which caused him to grow paler and paler by the moment. "I not scared of you!" He squeaked finally, and then he took his group and ran away.

Once they were gone, Toris glanced down at Ivan sympathetically. "Hey...do you remember me?" He inquired cautiously, noting the tears that still were slick upon the boy's rounded face. "I was at the flower shop-."

Surprisingly, the soft-spoken child cut him off. "I remember." He blurted sharply, although it seemed as if he didn't intend to, for he shrank away almost immediately after, face turning bright red. "I remember everyone who is nice to me..." He murmured, clutching at his pale pink scarf like it was the only thing holding his body as one. "At least, I think I do...Mast – I mean – Temuujin, says I am very forgetful..."

Why does he call him that? Toris wondered, although he didn't have the strength to ask; it felt rude, somehow, to inquire why the boy called his father by his name, instead of 'daddy', or the like. "Um...so you go to this school?" Toris asked awkwardly, not knowing what else to say to keep up a conversation. "My brother goes here. His name is Ravis." He added.

A frown touched Ivan's face, and he walked over to the fence, long pale scarf streaming out behind him like a cape. "Oh," He murmured, pushing his own little fingers through the fence and staring at Toris sadly. "but I don't think he knows who I am." He sighed. "Everyone is afraid of me." The hot sunlight lit up the child's face, and made the tears that had previously stained his face light up like liquid stars. A sudden strong desire to reach through the fence and dab those tears away washed over Toris, but he did not act upon his instincts. "Are you afraid?" Ivan asked timidly, the skin of his fingers brushing against Toris' own and bringing him back into reality.

"No...of course not!" Toris responded honestly, eyes narrowing. Who would be afraid of such an innocent child? Why did it seem that everyone was so cruel to this boy? "Why are people afraid of you, do you know?" He asked, gentle, letting his hand slide on top of Ivan's; it was an unintentional reaction, really, it was just...a reaction. Still, he felt glad he did it afterward, as the tension in the boy's body seemed to lessen slightly.

Closing his eyes, Ivan slowly leaned in nearer. "I don't think you will like me when I tell..." He mumbled, almost inaudibly. Still, he went on. "No one likes Ivan because he is broken." He started admitting, speaking in the third person. "Ivan has trouble remembering...anything that happened to him before he went to live with Temuujin. Sometimes, teachers or children say thing...do things... They make Ivan so angry, and so sad, and Ivan starts to see things in his mind. Bloody things. Sometimes, Ivan gets scared, and he cries and cries and cries, but everyone tells him he is a bad boy...bad Ivan..." The tiny Russian began shaking all over at the mention of past occurrences, and his fingers tightened around Toris' own, clutching onto him as tight as a vice. They were cold and sweaty, and Ivan did not meet Toris' eyes as he continued his story. "Then, sometimes, children are mean to Ivan. They laugh at him, and call him names, and push him onto the ground. This makes Ivan unhappy...so, one time, Ivan tried to be a good boy. Another boy called Ivan's Mamulya bad names, so Ivan taught this boy a lesson. He shoved him down and punched him in the head, right in the middle of class, until he was bleeding. Ivan thought teacher would be proud, but she h-hit him, and pulled him off the mean boy... T-then...t-then Ivan got a call h-home, and everyone s-started yelling at I-Ivan...and, and, all of them screamed that he was a b-bad boy, a-and T-T-Temuujin c-came and g-g-got m-m-me and t-t-took me t-to h-home a-and-a-a-and...!" Unable to continue, the child sank to his knees with a choked gasp. "I-I d-d-don't even know your name!" He sobbed, tears trickling down his porcelain cheeks. "N-now you think I'm a monster!"

Monster. The word rang in Toris' ears like a demented lullaby that wouldn't go away – oh, how he wanted it to go away – put it started playing on repeat, over and over again once he heard it. His mother's hard blue eyes came into his mind, and the sound of his father screaming, and his mother howling, flooded his ears. "N-ne..." He whispered softly, but the child's hand was already tugging itself out of his grasp, as the boy cringed away. "I don't think you're a monster!" He exclaimed when Ivan detached himself from him and fell backwards onto the gnarled roots of the majestic willow.

An awkward silence followed. "R...really?" Ivan asked, almost silently, his whole body heaving with strain and agony.

Shaking his head affirmative, Toris reached part of his hand through the fence, opening it towards Ivan. "You're an an-."

DIIIIIIIINNNNNGGGG.

The chime of the bell broke apart their conversation, and soon screaming children were rushing towards the gates, swinging their backpacks around crazily and giggling like drunken pixies. Toris' head turned just in time to see Ravis darting over to him, a big smile on his face. He was still holding the stick in his hand that he had been messing with on the playground. "Toris, I mad the most interesting day!" He chirped as he came up and gave his big brother a hug around the waist.

Hesitant, Toris hugged him back weakly, and gave him a polite pat between the shoulders. Eduard was exiting the gate as well, though he looked not excited at all; the only reason it was obvious something good had happened to him was because there was the teeniest hint of a smirk on his face. He probably aced a test again. "T-that's great." Toris stammered at his youngest sibling, not sounding very interested at all, and feeling terrible for it. Still, Ravis seemed not to notice and he began rambling about his day as if there were no tomorrow... During this time, Toris peeked over his shoulder towards where Ivan had previously been. The child was gone. The only thing remaining beneath the cooling shadows of the willow tree was the empty air, and the lonesome, unburied corpse of the dead praying mantis.

Here's a quick (I hope) author's note! Temuujin represents Mongolia. During the time of Tatar's rule, Mongolia had control over young Russia. The Mongolians invaded, and kept the Russians under strict control for a long time. They had a sort of dominant-submissive relationship going on, until finally, the Russians broke away from them (during the time after Ivan the Terrible's rule, I believe...). To ramble further on...I made the bully be Japan (Honda Kiku) because in the comics, Japan despises Russia. He even puts sharp pieces of metal in onigiri[?] (I honestly don't remember) and feeds them to Russia, who only smiles and says they taste good. Mhm. I'm contemplating bringing China in as a character too, although I'm not sure if he'll be a past or present character... Ahem. I'm ranting. Forgive me. Who do you think I should bring into the story~?