Vanilla

See: Six Years

A/N: So it appears this is the Thursday update which I'd hoped would entertain the stay-at-home, pent-up heart, struggling to stay afloat. I'd like to dedicate this chapter to angst lovers GCChiara42  issahuh and kireideiji haha I love  me some tears :> you know me best.

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Vanilla Julian White simply could not fathom how anyone, any child, could survive their first day of elementary school without the immediate disintegration of their mind. While rules were, by their very definition, necessary in every social and human establishment, the boy was having a hard time understanding policies like holding hands on the way to the bathroom, or having to wait forever to get to the end of a picture book read out during reading time. Worst of all was the work he and the rest of the children were made them to do. No way in the various, multiple parallel universes he'd read about was colouring considered homework. Artwork they had to be completing without those 48-shade colour pencil sets, but with three colours to each student.

It wasn't the taking turns that he minded, particularly—he'd managed his way through by swapping the pencils one after the other, going around to scout for the shades he required—but the sheer lack of intellectual, academic rigour that these fellow six-year-olds were experiencing. And enjoying.

They were doing things like 4 + 7, 2 + 3 and by god were those the silliest mathematic equations he'd ever imagined. He'd also been mildly offended by the school's collection of literary texts. None of them were a decent read, let alone, a challenge. The bottom line was the Vanilla did not enjoy his first day of elementary school despite the various promises that his Aunt Julie had made. Something about furthering his intellectual discovery and propelling levels of curiosity to greater heights.

By this rate, he was going to end up just like everyone else. Just like that girl who wouldn't stop raising her hand in the middle of class and unfortunately answering every question wrongly.

It was upon dismissal, the sound of the bell, that the bespectacled bean had found it in himself to breathe a sigh of relief. He was standing by the front gate of the school, right beside the guardhouse where the teachers were waving and speaking to concerned family members, exchanging greetings and brief anecdotes about their child's first day of school.

Vanilla's uncle was no different. In fact, being the anxious overthinker that he was, he'd nearly bypassed his nephew waving at him in his tippy toes and went straight for one of the teachers standing by the front gate. Vanilla had to run up to him and tug at his coat. Moments later, they were standing in line and waiting to seek the words of the boy's homeroom teacher.

"Good afternoon, Miss Reeta. I'm Alfred, Vanille's uncle," said the critic, extending a hand after resting his briefcase against the side of his right leg. "Apologies if he's been quite the chatterbox on his first day. He could never resist the temptation of answering a question."

Miss Reeta, a dark-haired, olive-skin woman with a brilliant smile, had appeared fairly surprised by Alfred's sudden apology. "Is that so? Well, actually... Vanilla's been very quiet today. In fact, the only noisy little one has been this girl, Elena, who's been raising her hand all day."

Alfred could not believe his ears. He'd glanced down at his nephew, who'd picked out his entire wardrobe on his first day of school—from the little bow tie on his neck to his long socks and matching tiny boat shoes. Impossible was the word that passed the forefront of his mind in that instant and his very first instinct had been to confront his nephew right away about his apparently abnormal behaviour.