The Street Rat and the Gentleman: Chapter 9
OH DEAR GOD. -cluthes pearls-
AM I REALLY UPDATING THIS?!?!?!
Well actually my friend recently returned my first Layton game and I put it in my DS and remembered what love felt like.
Anyway, for everyone that forgot the story - it's okay, I understand. I did too! So I made this questionably helpful summary!
THIS.
Title: The Street Rat and the Gentleman
Chapter: 9
Category: Professor Layton
Characters: Layton, Luke (No pairings)
Summary: It was under decidedly odd circumstances that Luke met Layton and became his apprentice.
Note: I take a LOT of liberty here in regards to Luke's past. And Layton's.
When he opens his eyes and sees the man he calls his mentor, he voices his fears.
“Have...have I let you down professor?”
He continues, stumbling over his apology as the man looks on silently. Before he can finish, the man interrupts him and with a few strong words quells the young boy's insecurities. And then, without thinking, the boy cannot help but voice his other concerns - concerns not for himself, but for his mentor, his professor...
He sees the carefully controlled mien of his mentor begin to crumble, and he does all he can think to do in his tired state and that is to reach out to him; somehow he can understand this man's pain. He simply does to his mentor what he had wished someone would do to him those many years ago.
When he feels himself enveloped by a pair of surprisingly strong arms, he cannot help but wonder if what he wanted had never purely been to become the man's apprentice, but to be taken care of by someone who would never abandon him.
When the man finally leaves the room, the name Luke fresh on his lips, both he and the boy have changed.
--
Luke awakened from perhaps the most restful sleep he had experienced since he had lived with his parents. Rising and readying himself groggily, he somewhat hesitantly left his room. How should he treat the professor? Should he pretend like nothing had transpired last night?
The boy's concerns were, as it turned out, for nothing. When he arrived in the dining area he was greeted only with a plate of breakfast and a small index card. Luke was somewhat disappointed he could not see his mentor, and some of his fears attempted to take hold once again. He quickly pushed them aside by remembering the stern words of the professor the night before.
He grabbed a bit of food and used the time the professor was not around to his advantage by slipping out of the house and giving some to the cat that usually followed him around (and had certainly not ceased lounging about outside the Layton residence). As guilty as Luke felt about secretly feeding table scraps to a stray cat, he did not want Sammy to feel the same sense of loneliness and abandonment he had felt so many years ago.
He sat down in the wooden chair and read over the index card while he attempted to eat his food as daintily as possible (even if the professor was not around, that was no excuse for abandoning gentlemanly behavior).
Luke took a minute to consider Professor Layton's handwriting. Despite his time at the residence, he had never actually seen it before. The writing was neither very dark nor very light, finding a balance between the two. The letters were small and vertical, seemingly betraying no emotion with so much as a slant. Luke thought the handwriting suited the man.
I'm thinking of something that is necessary for human life. It appears in just about every house you've ever visited and decreases in amount gradually the longer it is around. What am I thinking of?
Luke took another bite of his breakfast as he solved the ridiculously obvious puzzle. Food, of course. But why would the professor leave such a simple puzzle? Perhaps he was trying to tell Luke something...
The boy jumped from his seat and went to the pantry. As he opened the door he was greeted with a black case on the top shelf and another little note that read: Your lessons will begin soon.
Luke retrieved the violin and hugged it to himself, a wide grin on his face.
--
“Your lessons will be twice a week, on Mondays and Thursdays. Be sure not to let it interfere with your other studies.”
“Of course not professor,” Luke chirped, “And...thank you, sir! Thank you very much!”
The professor averted his gaze, a faint hint of pink coloring his cheeks. Luke wanted to giggle and hug the man but he remembered that last night the professor had let him off when he acted in a manner unlike a gentleman and did not wish to push his luck.
He is not aware that the action is something Professor Layton will not ever mind.
--
Professor Layton watched as his self-proclaimed apprentice busied himself with another puzzle. The progress Luke had made in such a short amount of time was astounding, really. Something akin to pride welled up in Layton's chest at the thought. As accustomed to masking his emotions as the Professor was, he did not feel the need to hide the small smile that graced his features. Due in no small part to...previous events...the Professor no longer felt inclined to mask all of his emotions around Luke. While he could not stop the habit that had accompanied him for so many years, it was at least relaxed around the boy.
Luke had not let his practice with the violin interrupt his studies in the slightest. Despite the teacher's claims that Luke was picking up the instrument at a fairly quick rate, the professor never heard the boy practice. Layton allowed himself a mental chuckle at the idea that the boy only practiced when he was not around, no doubt embarrassed by the squeaks and squawks that inevitably came with first learning the violin. The idea was actually rather endearing.
“Professor, I think I've solved it!”
Professor Layton gave the solution a cursory glance, realizing his apprentice was indeed correct.
“Good job, Luke.”
Professor Layton would only admit to himself how much he enjoyed the smile that would dawn on Luke's features whenever he called the boy by name.
--
Professor Layton did not initially realize the potential repercussions of finally accepting emotions he had bottled inside him for years, and chided himself for that fact. Nightmares were something usually associated with children, he mused, but even so that did not make them any less terrifying.
As wonderful as it felt to allow his emotions the freedom of outward expression, his mother's death (which could have previously been discarded with most other memories and emotions) inevitably haunted him. Memories of a past he wanted to forget visited him nearly every night with his only reprieve seeming to be the delight he felt while working with his “apprentice”.
This night was one of many in which he woke with a start in the early morning hours with cold sweat glistening on his skin.
He was not entirely sure what drove him to the action, but he found himself wandering to Luke's chambers and watching the boy sleep peacefully. It was relaxing in a way, but he was also envious of the boy's state. This boy had lost not one, but both of his parents. How could he achieve the peaceful slumber Layton could not? As much as the professor wanted to know the answer to such a question he certainly did not have the desire to ask his self-proclaimed apprentice forthright.
He watched the steady rise and fall of Luke's chest, visible only because of the sliver of moonlight that entered through the window. The moonlight gave the room a sort of ethereal glow that even Layton could admit was peaceful. He sat on the floor and leaned his head on the wall opposite the boy's bed.
“I was only a bit older than you when my mother passed away.”
Luke's sleeping form remained motionless and his slumber undisturbed by Layton's soft, almost shaky speech. The man knew that if Luke were awake he would not and could not do this.
“I...was with her when it happened. I blamed myself for it, not matter how much I was actually at fault. To some degree my father blamed me as well. He was never the same after it happened.”
Professor Layton averted his eyes to the floor, painfully remembering the treatment he received from his father after his mother's passing. He often thought that in a way both of his parents had died that day.
“My father sent me away to study archeology like himself. I...I did not see him often and still do not to this day. It was during that time I realized my love for puzzles, which I often used to direct my attention away from any matters concerning my father. But even as they were a reprieve, they were still a painful reminder of my mother - she used to busy herself with such pursuits when she was still living and first introduced me to them. In a way I was motivated by the idea that I was still connected to her, I suppose.”
Layton paused his monologue to consider the small boy. How Luke had changed his thoughts towards children! Before, he had let his hatred of himself as a boy spread to all of a young age. He characterized all children as having a destructive sort of naivety (which he saw in himself when his mother died) that could only be fixed through maturity. Perhaps because he himself had been forced to mature so quickly, he wondered why others could not do the same...
The professor allowed himself a sigh to disrupt his thoughts.
“Luke, my boy, do you remember the first time you entered my house after I....declared you my apprentice?” He winced slightly. “I became upset at a comment you made about my house not being lavishly decorated. You really were not at fault then, I...simply did not like reminders of that past. I know it does not mean much when you cannot receive it, but I offer my apology.”
He watched the boy silently for several more minutes, and allowed the calm to envelope him. Perhaps this young child could be so peaceful because unlike the professor he accepted his memories. And that was what Layton was attempting to do - why, this boy could help him even without being aware of it...
He closed his eyes.
“Perhaps some would say that it was fate we met that day.”
Professor Layton smiled, feeling cleansed by the boy's mere presence and the moonlight that bathed the room.
“While I do not accept that fate exists, I find that I cannot readily accept the fact that it does not either.”
With those final words Layton left the room and returned to his quarters, where he would be bathed in the same moonlight and would fall into the same peaceful sleep.
--
“Professor...please excuse me for being so straightforward, but you seem different this morning.”
He sipped his tea as small smirk formed on his lips. “I cannot imagine why.”
--
“This...this one is rather difficult, professor.”
Professor Layton looked over the shoulder of his young charge and studied the puzzle.
“The key to this one, my boy, is thinking in a different manner. All too often one will approach a puzzle with the same perspective - one must be capable of shifting their perspective with ease to become truly proficient in the art of solving puzzles.”
Luke scrunched his face in concentration, lost deep in thought. Layton was patient enough to wait the twenty-six minutes it took for the young boy to solve his dilemma.
“Correct, Luke.”
Layton could identify with the boys cheer at the exciting prospect of solving a puzzle one has been meticulously muling over, and smiled at the boy's somewhat unusually over the top antics.
“Layton's apprentice saves the day!” he shouted amid laughter. The laughter unwittingly spread to the professor in the form of somewhat more restrained chuckles. Luke repeated it over and over, happier and more dramatic upon each repetition.
“It's catchy, isn't it, professor?”
The man laughed at that. But on the inside, his laughter was painful, tearing away at himself, wreaking his body with motions akin to sobs. Every time he heard the phrase, and every laugh that followed, his heart managed to break just a bit more.
Professor Layton was at peace with his past, but would he ever be at peace with his present deception?
AN: It seems that Luke wasn't being enough of an emo ball of fluff, so Layton was forced to make up for it this chapter. I guess for some reason I couldn't end this chapter on a positive note, probably because last chapter did.
....I really am mean to them.
One more to go! -GASP-
AM I REALLY UPDATING THIS?!?!?!
Well actually my friend recently returned my first Layton game and I put it in my DS and remembered what love felt like.
Anyway, for everyone that forgot the story - it's okay, I understand. I did too! So I made this questionably helpful summary!
THIS.
Title: The Street Rat and the Gentleman
Chapter: 9
Category: Professor Layton
Characters: Layton, Luke (No pairings)
Summary: It was under decidedly odd circumstances that Luke met Layton and became his apprentice.
Note: I take a LOT of liberty here in regards to Luke's past. And Layton's.
When he opens his eyes and sees the man he calls his mentor, he voices his fears.
“Have...have I let you down professor?”
He continues, stumbling over his apology as the man looks on silently. Before he can finish, the man interrupts him and with a few strong words quells the young boy's insecurities. And then, without thinking, the boy cannot help but voice his other concerns - concerns not for himself, but for his mentor, his professor...
He sees the carefully controlled mien of his mentor begin to crumble, and he does all he can think to do in his tired state and that is to reach out to him; somehow he can understand this man's pain. He simply does to his mentor what he had wished someone would do to him those many years ago.
When he feels himself enveloped by a pair of surprisingly strong arms, he cannot help but wonder if what he wanted had never purely been to become the man's apprentice, but to be taken care of by someone who would never abandon him.
When the man finally leaves the room, the name Luke fresh on his lips, both he and the boy have changed.
--
Luke awakened from perhaps the most restful sleep he had experienced since he had lived with his parents. Rising and readying himself groggily, he somewhat hesitantly left his room. How should he treat the professor? Should he pretend like nothing had transpired last night?
The boy's concerns were, as it turned out, for nothing. When he arrived in the dining area he was greeted only with a plate of breakfast and a small index card. Luke was somewhat disappointed he could not see his mentor, and some of his fears attempted to take hold once again. He quickly pushed them aside by remembering the stern words of the professor the night before.
He grabbed a bit of food and used the time the professor was not around to his advantage by slipping out of the house and giving some to the cat that usually followed him around (and had certainly not ceased lounging about outside the Layton residence). As guilty as Luke felt about secretly feeding table scraps to a stray cat, he did not want Sammy to feel the same sense of loneliness and abandonment he had felt so many years ago.
He sat down in the wooden chair and read over the index card while he attempted to eat his food as daintily as possible (even if the professor was not around, that was no excuse for abandoning gentlemanly behavior).
Luke took a minute to consider Professor Layton's handwriting. Despite his time at the residence, he had never actually seen it before. The writing was neither very dark nor very light, finding a balance between the two. The letters were small and vertical, seemingly betraying no emotion with so much as a slant. Luke thought the handwriting suited the man.
I'm thinking of something that is necessary for human life. It appears in just about every house you've ever visited and decreases in amount gradually the longer it is around. What am I thinking of?
Luke took another bite of his breakfast as he solved the ridiculously obvious puzzle. Food, of course. But why would the professor leave such a simple puzzle? Perhaps he was trying to tell Luke something...
The boy jumped from his seat and went to the pantry. As he opened the door he was greeted with a black case on the top shelf and another little note that read: Your lessons will begin soon.
Luke retrieved the violin and hugged it to himself, a wide grin on his face.
--
“Your lessons will be twice a week, on Mondays and Thursdays. Be sure not to let it interfere with your other studies.”
“Of course not professor,” Luke chirped, “And...thank you, sir! Thank you very much!”
The professor averted his gaze, a faint hint of pink coloring his cheeks. Luke wanted to giggle and hug the man but he remembered that last night the professor had let him off when he acted in a manner unlike a gentleman and did not wish to push his luck.
He is not aware that the action is something Professor Layton will not ever mind.
--
Professor Layton watched as his self-proclaimed apprentice busied himself with another puzzle. The progress Luke had made in such a short amount of time was astounding, really. Something akin to pride welled up in Layton's chest at the thought. As accustomed to masking his emotions as the Professor was, he did not feel the need to hide the small smile that graced his features. Due in no small part to...previous events...the Professor no longer felt inclined to mask all of his emotions around Luke. While he could not stop the habit that had accompanied him for so many years, it was at least relaxed around the boy.
Luke had not let his practice with the violin interrupt his studies in the slightest. Despite the teacher's claims that Luke was picking up the instrument at a fairly quick rate, the professor never heard the boy practice. Layton allowed himself a mental chuckle at the idea that the boy only practiced when he was not around, no doubt embarrassed by the squeaks and squawks that inevitably came with first learning the violin. The idea was actually rather endearing.
“Professor, I think I've solved it!”
Professor Layton gave the solution a cursory glance, realizing his apprentice was indeed correct.
“Good job, Luke.”
Professor Layton would only admit to himself how much he enjoyed the smile that would dawn on Luke's features whenever he called the boy by name.
--
Professor Layton did not initially realize the potential repercussions of finally accepting emotions he had bottled inside him for years, and chided himself for that fact. Nightmares were something usually associated with children, he mused, but even so that did not make them any less terrifying.
As wonderful as it felt to allow his emotions the freedom of outward expression, his mother's death (which could have previously been discarded with most other memories and emotions) inevitably haunted him. Memories of a past he wanted to forget visited him nearly every night with his only reprieve seeming to be the delight he felt while working with his “apprentice”.
This night was one of many in which he woke with a start in the early morning hours with cold sweat glistening on his skin.
He was not entirely sure what drove him to the action, but he found himself wandering to Luke's chambers and watching the boy sleep peacefully. It was relaxing in a way, but he was also envious of the boy's state. This boy had lost not one, but both of his parents. How could he achieve the peaceful slumber Layton could not? As much as the professor wanted to know the answer to such a question he certainly did not have the desire to ask his self-proclaimed apprentice forthright.
He watched the steady rise and fall of Luke's chest, visible only because of the sliver of moonlight that entered through the window. The moonlight gave the room a sort of ethereal glow that even Layton could admit was peaceful. He sat on the floor and leaned his head on the wall opposite the boy's bed.
“I was only a bit older than you when my mother passed away.”
Luke's sleeping form remained motionless and his slumber undisturbed by Layton's soft, almost shaky speech. The man knew that if Luke were awake he would not and could not do this.
“I...was with her when it happened. I blamed myself for it, not matter how much I was actually at fault. To some degree my father blamed me as well. He was never the same after it happened.”
Professor Layton averted his eyes to the floor, painfully remembering the treatment he received from his father after his mother's passing. He often thought that in a way both of his parents had died that day.
“My father sent me away to study archeology like himself. I...I did not see him often and still do not to this day. It was during that time I realized my love for puzzles, which I often used to direct my attention away from any matters concerning my father. But even as they were a reprieve, they were still a painful reminder of my mother - she used to busy herself with such pursuits when she was still living and first introduced me to them. In a way I was motivated by the idea that I was still connected to her, I suppose.”
Layton paused his monologue to consider the small boy. How Luke had changed his thoughts towards children! Before, he had let his hatred of himself as a boy spread to all of a young age. He characterized all children as having a destructive sort of naivety (which he saw in himself when his mother died) that could only be fixed through maturity. Perhaps because he himself had been forced to mature so quickly, he wondered why others could not do the same...
The professor allowed himself a sigh to disrupt his thoughts.
“Luke, my boy, do you remember the first time you entered my house after I....declared you my apprentice?” He winced slightly. “I became upset at a comment you made about my house not being lavishly decorated. You really were not at fault then, I...simply did not like reminders of that past. I know it does not mean much when you cannot receive it, but I offer my apology.”
He watched the boy silently for several more minutes, and allowed the calm to envelope him. Perhaps this young child could be so peaceful because unlike the professor he accepted his memories. And that was what Layton was attempting to do - why, this boy could help him even without being aware of it...
He closed his eyes.
“Perhaps some would say that it was fate we met that day.”
Professor Layton smiled, feeling cleansed by the boy's mere presence and the moonlight that bathed the room.
“While I do not accept that fate exists, I find that I cannot readily accept the fact that it does not either.”
With those final words Layton left the room and returned to his quarters, where he would be bathed in the same moonlight and would fall into the same peaceful sleep.
--
“Professor...please excuse me for being so straightforward, but you seem different this morning.”
He sipped his tea as small smirk formed on his lips. “I cannot imagine why.”
--
“This...this one is rather difficult, professor.”
Professor Layton looked over the shoulder of his young charge and studied the puzzle.
“The key to this one, my boy, is thinking in a different manner. All too often one will approach a puzzle with the same perspective - one must be capable of shifting their perspective with ease to become truly proficient in the art of solving puzzles.”
Luke scrunched his face in concentration, lost deep in thought. Layton was patient enough to wait the twenty-six minutes it took for the young boy to solve his dilemma.
“Correct, Luke.”
Layton could identify with the boys cheer at the exciting prospect of solving a puzzle one has been meticulously muling over, and smiled at the boy's somewhat unusually over the top antics.
“Layton's apprentice saves the day!” he shouted amid laughter. The laughter unwittingly spread to the professor in the form of somewhat more restrained chuckles. Luke repeated it over and over, happier and more dramatic upon each repetition.
“It's catchy, isn't it, professor?”
The man laughed at that. But on the inside, his laughter was painful, tearing away at himself, wreaking his body with motions akin to sobs. Every time he heard the phrase, and every laugh that followed, his heart managed to break just a bit more.
Professor Layton was at peace with his past, but would he ever be at peace with his present deception?
AN: It seems that Luke wasn't being enough of an emo ball of fluff, so Layton was forced to make up for it this chapter. I guess for some reason I couldn't end this chapter on a positive note, probably because last chapter did.
....I really am mean to them.
One more to go! -GASP-