Eero had always been a strange child. Even from birth, he had always had some sense of maturity that eclipsed his brother, though they were alike in nearly every way; age, appearance, and, for a time, beliefs.

Still, somehow Eero advanced much faster. His intelligence surpassed his brother, allowing him to learn things at a much quicker rate. He knew three languages by the time he was six months old and was fluent in all of them by the age of three. He took advantage of his final year of childhood freedom by learning how to sign from his mother, Lady Freyja. He was nearly fluent in that by the time he entered school.

Eero entered secondary school as a Year Six and graduated at eleven five years later, having skipped a grade as he had said that the work was ‘too easy’ for him.

Although he had graduated a year early, he took a gap year to teach his brother sign, and he caught on quite quickly, though Eero could still note his little faults in grammar, the little tics in his hands when he signed, though for sure Eero knew that Freyja did not mind — they were still young anyway.

But not too young to enter University at thirteen.

Deliberately, Eero chose studies in a fifth language, a ‘lost’ language that he had seen his mother writing in, and she had told him that her family considered it quite sacred, so, of course, it had been his first choice.

There he met another young student, one who couldn’t have been a year older than him, but looked as though she had been slightly older. She spoke not a word of English but knew how to sign, and through that form of communication, Eero befriended her quickly.

It was also quickly that he took a liking to her, yet a platonic liking. There was something keeping him from moving forward, something keeping him from actually falling for her as a normal person would. He would attach himself to people as friends, but he never seemed to go further than that. He wanted to be with someone. He could date someone, and he would sometimes fantasize about it, but the memory always felt like he would just… fail them somehow.

He felt as though there was something missing.

He just couldn’t see himself as something more.

Well, he could. He was open to having… relations with both masculine and feminine people, but he could not see himself with a person romantically.

This was all too confusing.

He would shove it to the back of his mind to focus on his study-work, but often the thought would return to him, and Eero would set his study book away and search endlessly through what dictionaries he could find in his room.

He no longer had the patience to learn, and would often wander listlessly down the University halls.

There, he would often find the woman he had met watching him carefully. Often he would stare back, but he would stare for too long before breaking away, his face flushing.

Eero knew that she wanted to talk to him, but there was some force keeping her from doing so.

Maybe it was his aura. Once or twice, he had sniffed his jacket to make sure that it was exactly that.

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t.

If it wasn’t that, then what was it? What was keeping his friend from talking to him about his problems?

He had no time to figure out the answer to such questions, as the day he had planned to meet her in that particular hallway, she was gone. No trace of her was left, not in the hall, not in classes, nowhere, except for some gossip Eero picked up here or there.

It turned out that another student, Loki Wulff, had gone missing from the halls as well. Eero surmised what had happened without a second thought and went on his miserable way.

His only relief came when he took time off in the spring to go back to his family. He had felt it was better to stay in the Tower, where he had lived his entire life, where he had found sanctuary. It was better than being cooped up in that damn University all day.

His brother, of course, was the first person to greet him as he entered through those large doors, tackling him and pulling him into an embrace, which was so tight that Eero had to pry himself away in order to breathe.

“Good to see you too, Lear.”

Lear pulled Eero into an even tighter embrace, one that Eero could not escape from; his arms were pinioned against him.

“You arse, let me go.”

“I’m the arse?” Lear released his grip, which allowed Eero to breathe again. He ruffled his hair and scrunched up his face. “Never mind. Never mind. Father wants to speak to you over dinner.”

“All… Alright..?” Taken aback, Eero ruffled his hair as well. “I guess… I need to tell you guys something as well.”

The conversation didn’t really come until after dinner, when the cooks had cleared everything out, and the guards had been dismissed.

Eero didn’t really pay attention to his father’s words, anyway, staring at a small window on the wall, far over the President’s head. He only startled to attention when he found that the room had grown awkwardly silent and everyone was staring at him.

He waved them away and lowered his head to the table. “I’m fine,” He muttered. “Could you repeat that?”

“Were you listening, Eero?”

Eero nodded listlessly, then dozed off again, only to be woken up by a small tapping on the table.

He looked up to find his mother pointing at her ear, a sour expression on her face. When she pointed at the President, Enmilia, she said gruffly, “Listen to your father. It’s important.”

“Your brother and I will be leaving tomorrow morning for Western Main, Eero. Both you and your mother will run things until we get back.”

“Sept… September?” Eero stood in his seat. He slammed his fist on the table, which was so physically jarring that even his mother flinched. “What kind of bullshit is that?”

“Eero,” His mother’s voice, usually soft, rose in tone. “Eero, listen to your father.”

Eero sighed, sitting back in his seat. He folded his hands neatly on his lap and stared coldly at his father. “And what is this… trip about?” He shot a glance at his brother, who squirmed in his seat. He pointed at Lear so that his mother could understand. “Is it for him?”

“Well,” Enmilia immediately looked uncomfortable in his own clothing. “Well yes.”

“Well, then, that makes things easier for me.” Eero looked away from his father toward his mother. She still stared at him quizzically, but the faintest hints of a smile began to appear on her face.

When Lear and Enmilia went back to talking, Eero pointed at himself. He circled his hands, appearing to make fake goggles. Afterward, he counted his fingers out of order, only crossing his pointer fingers once in the middle. When his finger finally came to a rest on his palm, he lowered his hands and stared at Freyja and waited for her response.

Her face immediately flushed, and she gave him a thumbs up while smiling. “That’s great, Eero.”

“What was that?” Lear immediately brought a hush to the room. He stared at Eero awkwardly. “I saw a letter-spell.”

“Well, you were correct.” Eero straightened his lapels. “And, in case you were wondering, I just said I was bisexual.”

Lear shrunk in his seat, clearly embarrassed at his own mind slip. “That's… that's great!”

Eero shrugged and mentally rolled his eyes. He shifted in his seat and uncomfortably waited for the topic to change.

However, his father seemed to be done with his statement, and was staring at Eero with intent. The look upon his face told Eero that he had not been listening to a single word of the brothers' conversation.

“You are going to prepare?”

Eero pulled at his collar, nodded, but said nothing verbally.

“Good,” Enmilia stood and beckoned the Lady to his side. She smiled at him and stood her head, but obeyed and hurried from her chair in silence.

Eero sighed, staring at his lap.

It bothered him that his father did not listen, even more so at the thought that he had, but had not cared one bit for Eero's opinion.

“Eero?” Lear had not left his seat; Eero noticed as he stared upwards.

“Yes, yes... I'm coming, dear brother.”

Lear rolled his eyes and pushed his chair in. He smiled in what looked like pity. “He didn't care, did he?”

Eero shrugged but didn't reply.

“I care,” Lear said after a moment of silence. His smile faded. “And I'm sure father had other things on his mind. We can tell him later, when he's free, alright?”

“Right,” Eero stood from his seat and pushed it in. He felt a chill run through his body, but couldn't place a cause as to why. “There are better things to do.”

Lear smiled back at Eero. His expression was hopeful. “I ought to get ready then. You can come… if you'd like.”

Again,Eero nodded.

As his brother left the room, Eero straightened his coat. He ran his hands through his hair and fixed the cuffs of his jacket.

However, there was something he could not fix or straighten, and that was the rising feeling in his throat, the rising dysphoria that he just could not ignore.

No.

He shook it off and balanced himself upon the table.

I'm fine. It was just... a little ignorance... That's all.

He smiled to himself, as though that alone would reassure him.

He padded away from the table and raised his voice, calling for his brother in case the younger man could still hear him.

“Lear!”