Disperazione

Chapter 2

His first day into scuola media, Lovino, now eleven and a half, was recognized by some as that 'big, grumpy older brother of the cute Feliciano' or something along that line. They were usually the kids he went to nursery with and still remembered his cute little fratello. That or they went with him to primary school and also knew of Feliciano. Most of the other kids didn't know who he was, which he was thankful for.

Lovino tried his best to make a good first impression. And he did. In contrary to his days in nursery and primary school, he became part of the popular kids, more or less. Teachers noticed him, and this time, not as the quiet and petulant kid in the corner who always talked back at them. He stopped doing that now that he wanted to turn a new leaf.

Things were going smoothly and perfectly with only minor bumps in the road. He had a clique—not the people he expected to be friends with but enough to make him feel like he belonged, though he was still forced to pretend to be something he wasn't when he was around them. He had good grades and nobody compared them to his brother's (except at home), and he was building up a pretty good reputation. Lovino had everything he had always wanted but never had.

However, no matter how popular he became in school, he was still the same second-rate grandson at home. Feliciano still overshadowed him, because his achievements came in a little later than Feliciano's did. His Nonno still did not see him. Everything at home was just how it's always been.

The anvil weighed a ton now. And he was mistaken to continue to ignore it even as it started to chain itself to his throat, to his shoulders, to his arms, and dragged all those down along with his heart. The rest of his body threatened to follow, to fall.

Everything went downhill in the middle of the school year. Some kid he had never really paid attention to dug up his past insecurities and kept talking too loudly, too frequently about it in class, in the cafeteria, in the line. Everyone else hung onto that kid's words and that's when everything started to fall apart. Rumors flew from hall to hall, classroom to classroom, lips to ears. They got worse as they were retold.

To the student body, it was just another person who fell into the hole in the ground everyone, but him, saw.

To the bullies, it was another victim to step on and play with.

To the teachers, he was just another kid who fell out of their 'good students list'.

But to Lovino, to a child who has never had a friend who wasn't his brother, who has never felt what it was like to be accepted before coming to this school, who was always second rate but felt what it was like to be an individual not to be compared but to be appreciated, who made up a façade to fit in… it was earth-shattering. Life-crushing. Heartbreaking.

He had never known how bad it got until even his own pretentious clique stopped hanging around him. Everyone avoided him. The bullies started to bully him, call him names, 'accidentally' bump into him, step all over his books, write on his desk, his notebooks, his books, throw food or spill drinks into his face, et cetera.

At first, Lovino fought back, told them off with a practiced and sharp tongue they never saw coming. But after time, even he got used to it. And all he could do in defense then was to tear holes into them with his words sharp as the shards of a broken glass… or his broken soul, or both.

Even then, his only armor became the hand that guided them to hurt him more.

At home, Lovino would go straight to his room and force away the tears, change his clothes or clean his face from the things they throw at him like he was the center of a target board. He would rip off the pages of his notes or books with the hurtful vandalism in them. When his foot was caught by a hand or another foot as he went down or up some steps, he would brush it off to his brother as carelessness and tease him about catching it from him. But that was the only time he was physically hurt so badly. They never did it again for their consciences were still the size of a balloon compared to the baseball that their evil sides were. But Lovino knew, one day, those balloons would come down to the size of a pea, deflate because thorny temptation would put a hole in them. And they'll slowly shrink, unless fixed.

For all of his brother's naivety though, Lovino knew that Feliciano suspected bullying... but only just as much as their Nonno actually paid attention to him—which, to say, wasn't much. He was just glad that Feliciano has never told their Nonno about it. He already has too much to worry about without their own little problems adding to the equation.

Some time before the year ended, Lovino realized what he had done here, what he had put in store for his poor fratello. He hated himself for it and began to beg his Nonno to change schools. Questions were asked. Lies were told. Lovino was backed up by his little fratello saying that he also wanted to try new horizons, see new places.

"See? Even Feliciano wants to move. Please, Nonno. The people in my school are so boring now," Lovino said after Feliciano suggested moving to America over dinner at one evening.

"Mamma mia, Feliciano. We haven't enough to go to America," Nonno Roma said with a laugh as he took a forkful of pasta. Their dinner was the same as it was every Monday and Friday. Feliciano had the turn of choosing what they'd eat on those days. He always chose pasta. It made Lovino want to skip dinner but Feliciano became interested in different ways of cooking them that even he became curious about every meal Feli helped Nonno made.

"We don't?" Feliciano said with a cock of the head to the side and a finger to his lips. He completed the gesture with a quizzical look on his face and Lovino could just feel-rather, see in his mind-their Nonno smiling at how adorable his brother was… again.

"No, we don't," their Nonno said with gentle smile. Lovino watched on with disappointment as his grandfather started to suggest other things like going to the park or the beach more often instead to make up for not being able to move to a different place. And, oh, how his fratello believed it to be a better option rather than moving out. It was only after Feliciano was back to happily eating his Tagliatelle that the elderly Vargas turned to Lovino to give him some sort of comforting words and offered some sort of other option.

Lovino simply nodded in acceptance of the fact that he was never going to be able to escape this hell. Of course not. Luck was never, would never, be on his side unless his brother or some divine entity willed it. What did he expect? Of course he wasn't going to be able to change schools. Of course Feliciano would be next in line in the bullies' lists. Of course he brought this upon his brother. Of course… of course, he was to blame.

He finished his dinner early and headed right to the room to hide under his blankets. He thought about what he'll do for the next two years he'll be spending in middle school. Tears came to gather in his eyes, but he wiped them away as he submitted to his fate. He is, and always will be, a sore loser. Even without his brother standing next to him, his fate might still be the same.

And Lovino decided it was high time to acknowledge that much and start to lie low.

In less than two months, a new kid came around and Lovino was quickly dismissed as the Top One Guy to Bully. Lovino thought, maybe he should be thankful this kid came in so late into the semester and saved him from further embarrassment, though it's too bad he couldn't appear into the plot earlier. But he couldn't think that. He was too busy laying low, too busy snapping at the last bullies who still tried because already their new punching bag has been taken by the bigger sharks, too busy trying to rewrite his name as a wallflower instead of the school-wide fun bag. No more bullying came along his way then because the new kid seemed to be more fun to toy with.

Lovino saw how they treated the new guy, a freakishly tall albino, badly. He saw how they played every prank they knew on him. They mostly made fun of him because of his disorder, and because he couldn't fight back, unlike Lovino with his words. Maybe Vargas might have approached him to scold him if he hadn't been such a pussy. Even he didn't have to wonder why the bullies were so happy whenever they played with the newest pushover.

So his school life became too much like in primary school. Lovino couldn't ask for any more. He's learned his lesson. No more ambitions, no more dreaming of being seen or heard. 'Just be a wallflower instead,' he kept telling himself as he blended into the school body for the rest of his first year in middle school. 'Be content in the corner.'

Finally, the year ended and Lovino's fears grew and grew. He feared for his brother's future in that school. He feared for the poor cute, little Feliciano Vargas being bullied by his bullies and being scoffed at by the student body as it had done to him. He feared that his naïve brother might suddenly have his eyes opened to the cruelties of the world, and then he wouldn't be the same sweet, innocent Feliciano anymore.

And it would be Lovino's fault. Nonno would probably blame him if Feliciano changed. He might get disowned for being the cause of Feliciano's social problems, for Feliciano's bruises and wounds. He might be thrown into the street if Feliciano wasn't so full of felicity anymore and started hating the world just as Lovino did.

Such irrational thoughts plagued Lovino's mind. However, as a child whose fears were bigger than his dreams, they were all he could really worry about. Summertime rolled by too quickly and Lovino found himself becoming more and more uncomfortable as enrollment day came and new terms started again.

The weight wasn't just held onto him by simple chains now. Something solid has formed around his wrists and neck, thick enough to hold him still and heavy enough to add to the weight that seemed to disable him from moving anywhere but down. Lovino feared the fall that would surely come sooner or later. He feared not the void underneath his feet, but what was in the bottom and what lurked in the distance between it and him. He feared that whatever was still holding him up, whatever was still solid enough not to break underneath his soles, would one day crack. Then he would fall and he would not know how long his fall would last or where or what he would be falling into.

The days of summer soon came to a close and came in a new semester. Nonno had awoken early that morning to prepare breakfast for the brothers and, miraculously, to drive them to school for the first time. The car was only used by their Nonno for business, usually, since it was a company car. But today was different since he woke up early and he had time to spare anyway, or so the eldest Vargas said as the brothers strapped on their seatbelts. Lovino knew that, yet he could only convince himself that his Nonno was only doing this to make Feliciano's first day in scuola media memorable.

So Lovino, now a second year middle school student, took his seat in the back corner of the room for his first period and for the rest of the day. So far, nobody has approached him. Everything was still pretty peaceful for now. Then again, it was still much too early to be really sure that they would stop harassing him. And so the older Italian brother went on with his day as usual. Some people came to approach him—to harass him, as he had expected. However there was a noticeable dwindling of the numbers of the bullying incidents. If back then, he was troubled for almost the whole day, today, it was cut down to half the time. No, a third of the time, even.

Lovino wanted to smile and say that it was a progressive leap, what was happening. But he has learned long ago to be cautious and alert. He could not know, maybe tomorrow, everything would return to how it had been in the last semester, maybe even become worse. He reserved his celebrations for a later time, when hopefully, this much trouble becomes something normal, and maybe next semester, it reduces again until Lovino becomes as indistinguishable as the walls in the hallways. Hopefully.

Nonno was just parking the car in the driveway when Lovino got out of the school building. He watched as Feliciano ran up to their grandfather, laughing as he hugged him and telling him already about how his first day in middle school was. The older brother smiled as he watched the scene with unusually unguarded eyes. In a quick moment, the look disappeared and he shook out of his thoughts before he started to walk to the car, also greeting his Nonno, but not in the same lively way his fratello did. Nonno only patted his head and kept a big warm hand on his shoulder as he was led into the car, as usual.

Their dinner that night was filled with Feliciano's talk about his new classmates, his new teachers, his new school. Sometimes he asked Lovino a few things, like if they had a Culinary Science Club where he could join and share and learn his knowledge about pasta. Lovino, as usual, would answer in short, clipped words before Feliciano would continue talking and taking the spotlight. As usual. But tonight, something unusual about Nonno also happened.

"What about you, Lovino? How did your first day go?" The old man had asked.

Lovino froze then, staring at his Nonno like he grew an extra head or two. "I, um… It was fine," he said, overcoming his initial shock. He went to continue eating his dinner, expecting Feliciano to say something that would once again put him in the middle of everyone's attention. However his brother was quiet for once, simply eating his pasta. He was looking at Lovino expectantly, as if he was waiting for something more to be said. Their Nonno Roma was doing the same. And Lovino felt compelled to say more about his day.

"Mathematics seems like it's going to be easy for the next whole week since my instructor said we are just going to be reviewing the things we've learned from last school year," he added, wondering if it was enough to put him out of the hot seat. He hadn't known attention from here at home would make him uncomfortable. He had gotten used to being in the shadows of Feliciano's talents and joy. It was strange to have his Nonno's recognition back on him for an extended length of time. "That's it. Everything else today was pretty boring."

"Ah, I see…" Nonno Roma said with am odd but true smile before he turned back to his food. Lovino did the same, glancing up for a quick moment to see the other two share a look. In a few moments, everything was back to routine. There were a couple more times when Feliciano asked a few things from him and Nonno paid attention. But other than that, it was all good again.

In his dreams, Lovino felt that weight shift, felt some of the sand go through the bottom of the anvil. It was lighter now, but not so much as to make it any less heavy than he feared he could carry for much longer. Strangely, he noticed that he could endure the weight better, that his body felt stronger than the first time the heavy anvil hooked itself upon his heart. Well, for now anyway.

Time went on far too slowly for Lovino's tastes. The next he cared looked, it was only the second week of hell. He and Feliciano were running to school that day. For a reason Lovino could not understand, Feliciano had asked their grandfather that he let them walk to school and back home for today. His excuse was because he wanted to know the routes and shortcuts to school Lovino used. Of course the old man agreed, but only reluctantly and after reminding them of the golden rule which children their age should always follow—"Don't talk to strangers". And so they went.

The only reason why it took them too long to reach school was because Feliciano became quickly distracted when they passed the market. He took too long looking at the fruits and vegetables, speaking to Lovino which they should buy on the way home for Nonno to cook for dinner. Lovino blamed Feliciano mostly for that.

For a fleeting moment, the thought of skipping first class to avoid unwanted attention flitted through his mind. He disregarded it, thinking complacently that he's gone too far under the radar now to be noticed anyway.

So now, here he was, barely making it into the room before the instructor could call his name in the roll call. "Vargas," he heard his name was said right after he opened the door. The instructor, a new teacher in the school who was still prone to students bullying her than she disciplining them, offered him a smile and marked him present before moving on to the next name. Silently, Lovino wondered how longer it would take before she quit her job and started looking for a new one. People like her, who didn't demand for respect, wouldn't last in this profession. The class was already abusing their power over her as it is—a few girls in the back were filing their nails, some kids were eating gum or chips noisily, some were completely ignoring her and were talking to each other too loudly in the back, a couple of kids had their headphones on, and one girl had a stack of fashion magazines on her desk ready to be read throughout the whole boring period.

As Lovino made his way to his seat, a foot caught his and he had almost tripped. He quickly regained his balance, but even then, the whole class had already seen his almost-fall. Most were just sniggering, some chortled. He was livid, and then thankful that he didn't end up going face-first into the floor. That would be much more humi—

Another foot caught Lovino's. This time, it's one of the guys who last gave up on bullying him, Basilio. Now unsuspecting of a two-trip combo, the Vargas boy ended up flying down to the ground anyways. His arms outstretched in front of him to break his fall, however his right hand had somehow twisted the wrong way and the pain that followed gave him a reason to cry out, uncaring for a moment if the whole class was already laughing.

Quickly recovering, Lovino grit his teeth and shot a glare at Basilio, who tripped him the second time. Tears gathered in Vargas's eyes. He didn't know if it was because of the pain that was still pulsing angrily as he cradled his wrist to his chest or because of the humiliation that was brought down upon him.

Once more, the spotlight has returned to him. The scale has tipped again and now the weight of the anvil chained to him was making the chains creak loudly, louder than the laughs of the featureless faces floating around him in the blackness.

And that was it. He decided then that he has had enough of their crap.

"Bastardo!" Lovino said after he's gotten onto his feet.

"Cosa? Did you say something, nano?" Basilio drawled with a mock smile.

"Huh, and I thought somebody with ears as big and cauliflowered as yours should be able to hear well… Looks like your wrestling is starting to clog off the wiring to your brain, huh, idiota?" Lovino spat, dusting himself off as he got up. "Maybe it shrank from constantly hitting the floor. Tsk, and to think you would've made it to championships had you only possessed a bigger brain, stupido. You know, even tactics and techniques require a large enough brain, musclehead." He smirked to the reddening bully on his seat. Maybe if he wasn't going to be chased around and beaten up in a few seconds, he would be laughing right then. Really, this guy's face is funny if his big, old ego is being prodded with a few sharp insults, mixed with humiliation for being disgraced in front of the whole class.

When the full force of Lovino's words finally completely loaded into Basilio's tiny brain, he lunged at Lovino, his chair scraping loudly as it was pushed back by his legs. The prey, already expecting the chase, broke off into a run. The rest of the class tuned into chaos then, too. Girls screamed, some boys cheered while some laughed at the scene and a few more also started chasing Lovino to try and pin him down. Some still stayed in their own seats, only watching in either repulsion or amusement, or both. Their teacher, who was standing in front in shock, could only uselessly utter soft, tiny words as she uselessly tried to tell them to behave and get back on their seats.

Lovino passed by her. He knew that the bullies shoved her out of their way when she shrieked and gave a grunt of pain. If they could do that to a teacher, then they can do it all the more to Lovino. With his veins throbbing with adrenaline and fear, the Vargas went around one of the desks and pushed it towards those who were giving chase closest to his tail. He succeeded in pushing them back. That would buy him some time, but he knew he'll get caught soon if he didn't get out of here. The classroom was already becoming too small a room. He raced for the open door, skidding to a stop when one of the bigger ones blocked it. It was Mario, another blockhead, but smarter than Basilio at least.

"Going somewhere?" he asked as he smirked down at the cornered Lovino. Dark umber eyes widened with doom and that was all Lovino could do before somebody tackled him from behind and a dog pile formed on top of him, crushing him breathless.

A/N: So I forgot to post up a few translations from last chappie. Imma go put them up with this chappie's translations then. Yay! Now we're all learning Italian little by little.

So here goes le stuff from chapter one:

Scuola = school
Scuola dell'infanzia = nursery school
Fratello = brother
Bambini = (little) children
*Scuola secondaria = secondary school
*Scuola primaria = primary school
Nonno = grandpa/grandfather

*Additional knowledge/fun facts for all of us who aren't from Italy: They have scuola dell'infanzia (nursery school/pre-school) that's usually started from the age of three till six, then there's scuola primaria (primary school/elementary) from seven to eleven, scuola secondaria di primo grado (translates to first grade secondary school) which is like middle school in some countries that's started from eleven to fourteen. Then the upper secondary education, scuola secondaria di secondo grado (literally second grade secondary school, if you haven't figured it out yet) from fourteen years to nineteen where they pick a Liceo (equivalent to a course in college that's basically taken in their upper secondary or 'high school' levels, I guess. Licei range from philosophical to mathematical to historical to musical to technical 'courses'. I'm not entirely sure about this info though. All this is just gathered and interpreted data from several websites (mostly wikipedia). If you happen to be Italian or happen to know how their educational system works and you find something wrong with this part here, let me know please. I'm basing the story from the data above and I don't wanna write a story based on wrong/false info… unless it's already too late. If it is, then let's make this an AU that's almost identical to our universe.

And then le stuff for chapter two:

Scuola media = middle school
Bastardo = bastard (in case you didn't guess right)
Cosa? = What?
Nano = derogatory term for small people, similar to chibi and shrimp/midget.
Stupido = stupid (in case you didn't know)

Enjoy.