• “Ugh…”
    A man around the age of seventeen groaned as his younger self proceeded to throw a hissy-fit.
    “I want to go home! Professor wouldn’t allow us to stay in this—“
    “Shut up! Do you think we can stay in some posh hotel?! If we’re on the run, we can’t just drive merrily along the way to a resort, you twerp!”
    He slunk down onto the bile-colored carpet. The motel was a shabby little place, just barely passing the health inspection. The walls were a pale yellow color, with patches of paint peeling off.
    “….Why does this have to happen to us….?” The boy moaned.
    Luke sobbed, choosing to bury himself on the ratty couch with his blanket. He had been running from Don Paolo after the incident. The Professor died to protect him, even though it had been his entire fault. Despite the stress placed upon him at the moment, Luke drifted off into a deep, dreamless slumber.
    Lucas watched the young male sleep as he formulated a plan. Should they seek help with Claire? No--- it wouldn’t be very gentlemen like to disturb a lady, especially at times like this. At times like this, he proposed, it would be better to find a job first—living in the city teaches you that it’s impossible to travel without money. He would set out with the runt soon. But not after a well deserved nap or two…
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    It was a clear day, the sun shining and the birds chirping. The entire group had decided to go out for the day, the Professor had only a little work to do and the children, like the good kids they were had finished their homework.
    “Professor, where are we going?” Luke had asked, having to run a little quicker to keep up with Flora and Layton. “Well, my boy, I was thinking that we should go out to have ice cream as a treat.” “Are we really?! My, it’s been so long since I’ve had a vanilla cone,” Flora remarked. “It’s quite warm today, too. Perfect weather!” She had said as they reached the Café.
    Walking in, they looked around. The Café was a pleasant place. It was cozy, with a beige yellow matte wall. The tables were a vermillion green with red cushions on the chairs. The woman at the counter called out to them. “Welcome! Can I get you anything?”
    “Ah, yes,” Layton said, walking over to the register. “I’d like 2 ice cream cones, both vanilla please.” He put the payment on the tabletop and waited as the storekeeper prepared their snack. “Hmm….,” the professor mused, frowning in thought. “This reminds me of a puzzle!” Luke and Flora inwardly groaned.
    After the trio finished their treat, they went for a walk in the park. A slight breeze flew by, relieving them of the heat. “Ahhh! This feels so nice! Right, guys?” Luke remarked. “My boy, a gentleman does not use slang terms. Other than that though, this is rather refreshing.” Professor uttered.
    They all walked on at a leisurely pace, except for Luke of course. Being the happy-go-lucky boy he was, the spring breeze felt good upon his face, and reasoning told him that running would bring more wind—at least, he thought so.
    “My boy! I suggest you slow down!” the top hatted man said with amusement. “The professor is right, Luke! You could get hurt!” Flora agreed, the breeze making her hair flow. “Don’t worry! I won’t—“A jet black car sped at the intersection, a man with hair sticking up like horns inside. Layton would gasp and push the terrified boy out of the way, taking the impact himself.
    “PROFESSOR!!” Three instantaneous cries rang out, one at a tenor, one female and one familiar, yet deeper. Cursing could be heard. “No! I was too late….” A boy similar looking to Luke had just punched the ground in frustration. He rushed over to where Luke and Hershel were. “Are you alright!?...Wait, of course you are…” He was obviously frantic.
    “E-excuse me, b-but who might y-you beee…?!” Luke managed to choke out between crying and sobbing. “You can call me…Tom.” That had been the name of that Folsense boy, right? Maybe he might think that he was Thomas...
    A shriek was heard. The boys whipped their heads around to see Flora being pulled into the same car that ran over the Professor. “Flora!!” Luke attempted to run after the mysterious car, but he tripped, scabbing his knee.
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    Tom’s PoV
    I woke up in the dawn, sprawled in the armchair, my back aching and my forehead sweaty. Looking around, I saw that the half-pint was missing from his designated sofa, and that the bathroom was occupied, along with sobbing noises. What’s funny about this, is the fact that I don’t even have to ask what’s wrong. I strolled over to the door of the bathroom and asked if he was okay--- I remember now, wanting to be asked that. “I’m all right, Tom. Just a little shaken up.” Tom. Why I had chosen that name had slipped my mind. “Stop lying,” I told him. The water splashed from inside. “ Fine…” The water was draining. He stepped out, and I could see his tear stained cheeks. I couldn’t tell whether his eyes were red from crying or not-his bangs covered the orbs. And then, I decided to make coffee. Not tea, but coffee.
    Luke’s PoV
    It was all so sickening. Quite literally. I felt sick to my stomach….Tom said that it was probably the stress and trauma, but I’m not quite sure. The professor once had Flora take a warm bath when her stomach was upset, so maybe it would work for me. Getting up quietly, so as not to wake Tom, I headed to the bath to soak, and perhaps think for a while. I stepped in the small room and shed my clothes while the water heated. Once I got in, I felt a little better, but my eyes stung. I could feel the familiar prickle of tears in my eyes as I felt the warmth I used to have envelope me in a weird mixture of depressing comfort. It was pitiful of me, to only feel icy coldness in physical heat, I mused. In a few minutes, I heard a knock at the door. “Luke, are you okay?” I had desperately wanted to say no, but I forced out a “I’m all right, Tom. Just a little shaken up.” After all, what good would worrying do now? I tried to sound sincere, but I couldn’t hold back a couple of sobs. “Stop lying.” Tom said to me. And oh, how I admired him even more. He gave me what I needed, a good slap in the face to reality. Choking on my tears, I let the water drain and got dressed. I opened the door to see Tom with a concerned look on his face staring at me. “I’m fine, really.” With that, he stepped aside and I went to bury myself in the sofa again.