Disclaimer: I do not own Siegfried Von Schraider or Leonhard Von Schraider.
Wordswrittenlikethis is the fault of FF(dot)net's editing system.
Ack, another one-shot. But not random fun like last time. In actuality, I had a horrible writer's block; I couldn't figure out how to word what I wanted to say. I decided to sit down and type away with some new material. So this fanfic has a lot of descriptive stuff and characters I've never written about. And a corny title. Whoo.
Sieg and Leon interested me right after it was announced that they were brothers. :) I did like Siegfried from the moment I saw him, though; a guy who is completely pink has got to be incredibly eccentric or incredibly brave. Heck, I even like his dub voice. And Leonhard, I thought was adorable. There were so many Kaiba brother-bonding fanfics, and Sieg and Leon needed more. But unfortunately for me, I haven't been really watching the Grand Prix lately, so the personalities may be off. Sorry 'bout that, fans! But I hope you enjoy it!
His handwriting was getting better. It was a miracle, seeing how he typed more often than he wrote. The computer was much more efficient. He could type out pages upon pages of text. German, English, it didn't matter. What mattered was that it was faster than writing. It was less painful on his hand, too. He was tired of walking away from his lessons, massaging his palm and flexing his fingers.
Although, sometimes paper was more reliable.
He could erase all evidence of his efforts on his computer. Or lack of. And in less than a second, he could lose all of his work without doing anything. Sometimes it came it handy; he could blame it on the computer for deleting all the data if he was unable to meet the deadlines his tutors assigned him. And the other times, he would stare at the black screen in disbelief at what had just happened and restart the computer, praying that his work—work that he had spent the entire night on—had been saved…
So after that incident, he decided that it would be better to start off with a rough draft of his papers first, then type them down. It would take longer, and it would be less convenient for him, but it was a fair compromise, and his tutors would stop suspecting that his own, originally brilliant essays were the products of plagiarism.
Thirteen-year-old Siegfried Von Schraider frowned; his blue eyes narrowing slightly at the blank monitor. His fingers, itching to fly across the white keyboard, combed through his pink hair and then slid back down his face, and he returned to the sheet of paper before him. With a quick glance at the clock hanging on the wall at his right, he knew that it was well past midnight. Everyone else in the castle was asleep. It was peaceful, tranquil. He shook his head, the corner of his lips drawing upward in a small smile.
It was amazing how much a person could get done in the hours that he would have slept away. Sometimes, he wondered why he even slept at all. When keeping—forcing the mind to stay awake, he could make all sorts of connections, revelations. He could remember events with vivid detail…
Oh who was he trying to kid? He blinked quickly and rubbed his eyes. Maybe that was because he was drifting off into sleep. Sighing, he knew there would be no time for that. Reminding himself of all the reasons he had to stay awake, he stared down at his work with renewed vibrancy.
The English on the paper looked funny to him. There was something wrong with the words…
Siegfried gave a soft cluck of frustration when he realized that he had slipped back into German grammar again, instead of staying with English. The language wasn't particularly hard to learn. Many of the words were cognates and had German equivalents. His pen left a fine, black line through the string of words, and he rewrote the sentence under it. He repeated the process with the other mistakes that he spotted while scanning down his page.
"Tch, this is getting me nowhere!" he muttered to himself as he slammed his pen on the writing desk. How on earth had he made so many mistakes? Was his English really that bad? With a grunt of dissatisfaction, he crumpled up the entire sheet of paper and dropped it on the desk. He watched it roll into a slender, blue china vase and come to a halt.
There was an wilting rose in the vase. What was surprising was that it had been there for almost a week, and yet it still kept its brilliant scarlet shade and all its petals. He reached forward and stroked the smooth, cool container with a thumb. Funny how a single, dying flower could bring back such welcoming memories.
Leonhard's short, magenta ponytail seemed to bounce up and down as the child ran ahead of his older brother. "See—I told you! All the rose bushes are in full bloom!" he said excitedly, coming to a stop. He turned around to see the pink-haired teenager's reaction and was pleased with what he saw: Siegfried surveyed the sight with a delighted smile on his face.
"It's beautiful," murmured Siegfriend, awestruck at the beauty of what was once a simple garden. The large, green bushes that lined the stony pathway were covered with the flowers, their green contrasting wonderfully with the red. Leonhard beamed as he watched his brother pluck a large blossom from a nearby bush. He knew that Siegfried had an aesthetic side, despite all the time he spent with computers and facts concerning business that younger, less educated Von Schraider, did not understand. "Gorgeous."
Hurrying toward Siegfried, he asked, "Was it worth it?" When he was answered with a questioning look, Leonhard blushed and scratched his head. "Was it worth missing your lesson? You never really look forward to seeing Herr Braun..."
Again, his question was met with complete silence. The boy was beginning to regret keeping his brother from his studies. After all, Siegfried would inherit the company someday. Someday soon. All Leonhard was doing lately was pestering him with his childish requests and immaturity. He didn't know anything about running companies, and everyone seemed determined to keep that so. Siegfried received all of the attention, as well as the wisdom that was passed down from the older generation.
But Siegfried was the one that made Leonhard feel as if he still existed in this world. If it weren't for his big brother, he would have assimilated into the stories that he loved to read so much. At least his brother still paid attention to him. Still talked to him.
And yet, Leonhard still wanted more time with him. Leonhard still wanted to be a part of Siefried's hectic schedule. The child's dark red brows slanted slowly towards each other. Was he being an ungrateful brother? Was he being unfair to Siegfried by demanding, even if silently, more of his time? Himself?
"Leon…" Siegfried's eyes widened just a little. A warm breeze swept through the garden, grasping loose petals with its invisible hands and flinging them into the sky. Siegfried chuckled quietly. "My lessons?" he asked Leonhard, amused. "For a moment , I thought you meant that if it was worth the punishment I would receive for missing my class!"
"Oh." Leonhard didn't know what to make out of that. "I see…"
The wind had grown stronger. It had taken a hold of Siegfried's light, shoulder-length pink hair and scattered it around him. Leonhard's own ponytail was whipping around behind him. Seigfried placed his hands on the younger child's shoulders and smiled warmly. "Ja klar!" he told him, his laughter light and elated. "Of course it was worth it! Danke." He winked, and added on, almost as an afterthought, "But we'll have to keep this between us, okay? You shouldn't have to get into trouble, too."
Leonhard hugged him. He breathed in the rose-perfumed air, the sheer jubilance of the moment. "Okay," he said softly. Then, with more confidence, he met Siegfried's sparkling blue eyes with a grin. "You're welcome, Brother."
Siegfried smiled and ruffled his hair.
Is he still in here...?
His brown eyes gazed into the extravagantly furnished study room where the pink-haired boy sat. His question was affirmed.
It was nearly dawn. The horizon had begun to glow with warm, glorious colors. Orange light poured in from the window and fell upon Siegfried's hunched figure. Leonhard tiptoed into the room and peered over the desktop. "Brother?" Siegfried didn't move. Leonhard tried again, more firmly, "Elder Brother…" The younger Von Schraider took a deep breath. He poked his brother on the head with the corner of the book he had in his hands. "Siegfried!"
And lo and behold, Seigfried awoke. He looked at Leonhard. "Oh…" He noticed the sunrise with a frown. "Oh." A quick glance at the clock and, "Oh?" Siegfried finally directed his eyes to his papers, which were arranged in an unsightly order that would have made Herr Braun, shake his head in disproval. "Geez..."
"What is it, Leon?" asked Siegfried, disheveling his light-colored hair with both hands. "I'm very busy—I'm not done with all my work yet…" He fell asleep. Rest had seized him with an unyielding grasp until his little brother awakened him.
Seto Kaiba would have never fallen asleep like this!
Running that statement through his mind again, he realized that however diligent his young rival may have been, this must have happened to him at least once before! Siegfried scowled and straightened his hair. Before he knew it, he was dissecting the sentence for grammatical mistakes. This was what happened when he fell asleep with unfinished work piled high around him. "What is it, Leon?" he repeated grumpily. He found it distubring that even his dreams were plagued with studying and business strategies.
This was probably not a good time… Leonhard smiled sheepishly and presented the book to Siegfried. "I finally found it!" It was an old, worn hardback, its pages yellow and dusty with age. The lettering was gold, but it was fading and the font was almost illegible.
Bending forward, Siegfried asked, "What is it…? 'Glmm…?'"
"Grimm Brothers Complete Collection of Fairy Tales!" Leonhard set the book on the desk and opened it. He wrinkled his nose at the rising dust. You promised you'd read me some stories once I found it.
Nodding, Siegfried agreed, "So I did." He looked at the computer, to his papers, and then back at his younger brother. "But I don't have the time today. Maybe later…" He sighed at the visible disappointment on Leonhard's face. He turned the computer on and took the book from Leon. "Fine, just one story for now. But it'll have to be a quick one…"
"Okay!" Leonhard nodded and ran around the desk. He took a seat by Siegfried's chair. "Which one?"
Siegfried looked up at the screen, which was still black, but the computer was emanating soft, whirring sounds. He flipped through the antiquated pages and stopped at a title that caught his eye. "'Die Rose'… This one?" he asked Leonhard as he placed the large volume on his lap, his temple resting on his knuckles. Leonhard nodded vigorously. Siegfried smiled and began, "'Once upon a time, there was a woman who only had two children—'"
"Elder Brother?" Leonhard interrupted him abruptly. Siegfried looked up from the text and back down at his little brother's face, finding two chocolate eyes looking up at him imploringly.
"Will we always be like this?"
Shaking his head gently, the older Von Schraider said, smiling, "I don't know."
"All right." Leonhard reclined back on his elbows. He had always admired his brother; never stopped before, never will. Siegfried was so studious and always seemed to be unconcerned with things that would have driven the average teenager insane. And although he may have been aloof, he was there for Leonhard. And that's how he hoped that it would always be. Even if the whole world fell apart around them, he hoped that they would still remain close.
"Now then… 'The youngest of the two children always had to go out to fetch the wood…'"
Leonhard's eyelids fell over the two dark orbs and rose in a slow blink. He surveyed the room with a blithely contented expression on his face. Around them, the sun's rays had filled the room with a soothing, golden flood of light. White flecks of dust hovered slowly in the sun's beams, unhurried, unyielding to time. Chirps from birds awakening outside mingled pleasantly with Siegfried's smooth, flowing voice.
Will we always be like this?
A scarlet petal fell from the rose on Siegfried's desk and landed on the papers scattered beneath it.
Sentimental stuff is fun to write in the dead of night. The German's mainly the little phrases like "thanks", "of course"... Stuff like that.
A little fun fact: The Grimm Brothers were German. They collected fairy tales and folk stories and published them.