Thanks so much for all the lovely reviews, I appreciate each and every one of them. Chapters will be longer soon, I promise. And for those of you asking, I stated in the beginning: ebene means plain in German.
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia Axis Powers
Age Nine
Rubbed Raw
Ludwig still checked his wrist every day and every night for words. It was always blank. Soon, he stopped checking multiple times a day like he used to, and only started checking three times a day. Once in the morning, once in the afternoon and one last time in the evening.
A girl in Gilbert's class had found her soulmate the other day, he heard. 'Would you like sugar with that?' Her wrist read in scraggly, quick handwriting. Her words had led her to a small café and she had instantly met the barista who was the love of her life. Ludwig didn't know this girl, he didn't even know her name. But he was filled with jealousy.
All she had to do was walk to the café and bam she met her soulmate. Meanwhile, Ludwig didn't even have one. That wasn't fair. It just absolutely wasn't fair. He wanted to be like them, he wanted to be like everyone else who could wear short sleeves proudly and look at their wrists and smile because they knew that one day those words would lead them to happiness.
He lifted up his sleeve again.
It was still empty.
He had heard a story of a boy who had just the date on his wrist. How lucky was that kid? To know exactly what date he had to wait for, to know that everyday of his life was preparing for him for that date. He never had to worry, never had to figure out the clues that could lead him to his soulmate. All he had to do was sit and wait, but then again, so did everyone. For everyone else, it was just a matter of time.
They all just went around their daily lives, and with each moment passing they knew they were one minute closer to meeting their soulmate. They took it for granted. They didn't know nor care that there was a young boy going throughout his life with a blank wrist.
And the people who did know shunned him for it.
He went back to his room, sitting on his bed and staring at the window blankly as he absentmindedly rubbed the skin on his wrist raw with his thumb, scratching, twisting and fiddling with the pale skin until it was a irritated pinkish red color, but Ludwig didn't notice.
It had become a comforting motion to him, the closest he could get to a hug from a dear friend. Ludwig found as much solace in this motion of rubbing his thin skin raw as any other kid his age would get from their favorite stuffed animal. His blue eyes noticed how the veins pulsed in his wrist the more he kneaded the flesh with his short clipped fingernails.
The blond couldn't recall when he had begun this habit, but one day it had started and just stuck with him. It was just his own version of sucking his thumb. A motion of nervousness, worry.
Part of him thought that having words was stupid, that he didn't need them at all. He had himself, he had Gilbert, why should he even need a soulmate? Of course, that didn't mean he didn't want one. It was a like toy he longed for at the store that everyone else had, but he didn't. He wanted this game, he had heard good reviews from his peers, but he didn't have it. Was it necessary to live? No. But would it make him happier, make life more enjoyable? Yes.
From his window, Ludwig watched couples on the street walk together hand in hand, envying the way they laughed and talked with each other, the way the boys would smile at their girlfriends or boyfriends. Their soulmates. Ludwig would never experience that, right?
No... he would. The words would appear. His words would show up somehow. He just had to have faith in the promise Gilbert made to him, right? The words would be there. He would be just like everyone else, he'd have a soulmate too. His stomach turned nauseously as he thought that, but he ignored it. Ludwig continued to stare out the window at all the happy couples, his heart stirring with negative emotions until the sky became dark and the street lights turned on, and the street was deserted.
Ludwig's heart was heavy with the feeling of despair, and as he tucked himself into bed, he thought of whether or not being alone would be really all that bad. He could survive by himself, couldn't he? Of course he could. But that didn't mean he wanted to.
If the other kids had words, surely he would too, one day. Although his thoughts were weighing him down, he stared at the ceiling with dull eyes, squinting in the darkness of his unlit room.
Each time he checked his wrist, he got more disappointed whenever words weren't there. But if he didn't check his wrist, he was always so curious and hopeful to see if his words had finally appeared. Each night was like Christmas Eve, going to bed and being excited for the next day where he would wake up and rush down the stairs and see the mountain of wrapped gifts waiting for him. But instead, every morning was like finding nothing under the tree or tucked in the stockings when he peeled up his sleeve to find it blank every morning. And the more nights that went by, only to awaken to nothing, the more anxiety that filled him. Coming closer and closer to drowning, filling his lungs with dread.
He had to have faith in Gilbert's promise, right? That's all he had to do. He had to believe that he would get words, and one day his wish would come true, and he would be just like all the other kids. And then he would be able to make friends and one day get married and everything would be absolutely perfect.
The German boy leaned over and flipped his lamp on, illuminating the room with a dim light. Putting his shaky hand on the sleeve of his pale blue pajama shirt, he it tightly whilst having a mental war with himself. One part of him –the hopeful part– was cheering, saying to lift up the sleeve, saying that the words would be there. And yet the other side of him was telling him to just turn off the lamp and go to sleep. To not make himself more discouraged than he already was.
Closing his eyes tightly, the blond pulled the comforter up to his nose, squeezing his eyes shut tightly, wishing for sleep to come so he wouldn't have to think about anything regarding words and soulmates until the sun came up the next day and he had to go back to school. That evening when he went to bed, he no longer prayed to Gott to make his words appear.
That night, Ludwig went to bed without checking for words at all.
To be continued
Coming next: Age 10