Unspoken Goodbyes: A Wammy!Era Short

Wammy’s House
Winchester, England
2008

“Why aren’t we doing anything?”

“We are doing things, Heather.” Linda gave the other a pointed look. “Just…just not as much as the others are. And we have to accept that.” But the other didn’t want to accept it. Linda sighed as Heather rose from her seat, leaving a pile of books on the wooden library table.

“I have to walk. I’ve been here since this morning.”

The girl nodded slowly, running a few fingers down her straight hair. “Alright. Come back when you’re feeling better, okay?” Heather nodded blankly and turned to leave her current place, leaving Linda in the middle of the grand library with her books and papers to herself.

It infuriated her.

Heather was sixteen and had recently finished her therapy. She felt shackled during the entire process. The session room was dark and gloomy, and she didn’t like it. She didn’t like how repetitive the whole notion was. She didn’t like the stares in particular, either – every time she would leave the room, people – mostly younger children – would be staring and whispering. Only Linda would roll her eyes and pull Heather away, her head high.

It was when her therapy stopped did she finally notice what was going on around her.

People were more secretive, and hardly anyone went outside nowadays. Heather desperately wanted to find out why – why the home she had grown up in had suddenly changed drapes and tossed old memories into the attic.

The children had grown more fearful. Teenagers averted their gazes. Even professors rushed more than usual. Roger was nowhere to be seen. As much as Heather mildly disliked Roger, she had to know at least what was going on.

It wasn’t as if she was a troubling student. Goodness, she was never anything of the like. She was an angel – a delight to teach. Heather was nothing like Linda, who would prod and smirk and tease endlessly. She wondered how she and Linda got along so well. So she had to be in Roger’s good books, unlike…

Heather sighed quietly as she turned left. Three people popped into her head instantly, a well-known trio who were long gone. She listed them off: the girl with raven curls who curtly introduced herself as J. The next, a hot-tempered blonde who prided himself as Mello. And the third, a smirky ginger with peculiar goggles plastered over his head. This one called himself Matt.

All three of them had left years before. She recalled Mello’s disappearance in 2004, then Jean’s in the year 2006, a few years after Christmas. Heather didn’t know why Mello or Jean had left. Neither did Linda, but her blonde-haired friend had conspiracies and theories left and right.

Heather honestly expected Matt to follow a few days after, she really did.

But it was 2008 and he was still there.

She saw him frequently, but not as often as she wished.

Looking up, she found herself much farther than she expected. This was the library: her nth home.

Against the wall were a line of computers and their respective chairs. Heather immediately pulled a seat by the very end, against the window, and began typing earnestly.

She logged on to the first news website she could think of and searched the headlines, skimming through them and immediately going to the international section, as she always would. There had to be something interesting, she thought. Hardly any day passed without any kind of scuffle in England – why not the whole world?

A mere ten minutes later, her tabs were filled to the brim with news, news, and nothing but. Heather rubbed her eyes and leaned back against the soft backrest of the chair, glancing at the headlines and temporarily closing her eyes to rid herself of the strain.

“That’s a lot of news to read.”

Heather didn’t bother opening her eyes. “Bog off, Gav.”

The voice seemed amused when it spoke again, “Gavin Vincent? Are you sure?” Heather’s eyes snapped open at that, and she whirled around to see Matt seated next to her, smiling. “I’m a little offended, H.”

“Y-You shouldn’t startle people like that!” she snapped, red rising to her face. Matt’s smile turned into a lopsided grin and he laughed heartily, Heather turning away to hide the flustered look on her face. “…what are you doing here, Matt?” the male shrugged, tucking his PSP into his pocket, leaning forward to look at her computer screen.

“I was walking around in search of the references,” he started matter-of-factly, “And I found you here, alone. Ladies shouldn’t be alone.”

“Ladies,” Heather refuted with a raised brow, “Can very much handle themselves.” The look in his blue eyes turned playful.

“I bet you can, H.” he hummed and watched as she started reading, “…I do hope you know what’s going on,” he murmured in a lower tone. She blinked, “…do you?”

“I’m recovering from therapy.” Heather said this defensively, “I haven’t had time to actually read the paper like how I used to.” Matt nodded sympathetically. He knew – everyone knew what she had gone through. He couldn’t actually blame her for not being updated.

“Shall I notify you?”

“I’ve got my news,” she gestured to the computer. Matt shook his head.

“The media lies, H.”

“And you don’t?” the smile on Matt’s face vanished, and she felt guilty for saying those words. “…sorry. You just can’t trust anyone anymore.” She muttered (mostly to herself) and exited the current tab. “What news do you have?” at that, Matt cleared his throat and folded his arms over his chest.

“Lots of things are happening outside Wammy’s, H. Really bad things.” He glanced away, “…Mello left to put a stop to one of those things.”

She felt her blood go cold.

 “I tried persuading the bastard to stay,” Matt managed. “But I couldn’t. He just packed up and left. Then J followed after him. It sucks, you know. To have the ones you trust just leave like that.”

She said nothing.

“But those things aside…Mello went to pursuit and destroy that bad thing. That evil. Heather,” he said suddenly, surprising her – Matt only regarded her by a single letter. “People are getting murdered out there. In Japan, and it’s spreading worldwide. And we’re here doing nothing.”

Nothing.

Just as she had complained to Linda much earlier.

“I did some research. Like what you’re doing right now. And the papers don’t show much, as much as I hate to admit it.” He grimaced, “But I know things. Would you?”

“I hardly know anything,” Heather tried to comprehend what he was saying, “Matt, what are you saying? I can’t understand you.”

He smiled yet again.

But it was a different smile.

 “I don’t want to scare you. But I don’t want you to be as ignorant as the majority in here, H. So here’s what it is: people are dying. And something has to be done about that.”

“We can’t do anything. I’m sixteen, and you’re – you’re…”

“Eighteen,” Matt finished easily. “Legal. I can get out of here anytime.”

It was at that moment where she felt her own heart splinter.

“G-Get out…?”

“I have to leave sooner or later. I can’t spend the rest of forever rotting in here.”

“But what do I do–”

“Keep doing what you’re doing. Keep being number one. Without Mello…you’ve got it in your hands. And only so few can hinder your way. Okay?”

He confused her so much.

“You’ve got bright things in store for you, H. Believe me. You’re nothing like Mello or like J.” he touched her (cold) hands, “Don’t be ignorant. And don’t be afraid.”

She swallowed nervously and gave a nod.

“That’s what I like.” Matt stood up all of a sudden, hand in his pocket, “I have to be out. Need to pass a few papers and settle some endings.” When she stared at him, indignant, he grinned widely and pulled out the game from his pocket. “Endings. Video games.”

“Sure,” she mumbled, turning back. Matt chuckled faintly.

“Hey, H?”

When she looked back, he was staring at her with an unrecognizable fondness in his eyes.

“Roger’s office is often left unlocked from six to eight in the evening.”