# Loss

Title: Loss
Status: Complete
Characters: Anon, Fang, Trish, Reed
Rating: SFW
Classification: One Shot
Author: SurpriseVisitor
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I push my way through the classroom door and into fourth period. A smile forms on my face as I see the bald human sitting by himself at a lab desk. An incredibly welcome sight compared to a certain pomegranate prude that I have the misfortune of sharing a third period with. The change in mood almost makes me forget Anon didn’t meet up with me before classes started; something I am absolutely going to tease him about.
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Smug grin at the ready to roast him alive, the chair scrapes across the floor and I take my seat across from him. His hands are at his sides and he’s staring at nothing in particular, yet he doesn’t look up. I bet he’s ashamed he forgot to see me earlier.
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“Anon…” I quietly coo, readying my little act. No response, just a continued, vacant stare towards the floor.
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“Anon?” I ask, louder this time, hoping to pierce the din of the other pre-class conversations. Still nothing. Any ideas of mischief vanish and worry takes their place. I’m not really that mad anyway...
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“Anon?” I repeat. Third time isn’t the charm, and he remains motionless. Smooth as his head may be, he’s not fit to be a statue. I reach over and slap the desk with my hand. This finally gets through and he snaps to attention, frantically looking around the classroom, and then at me.
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“Oh, hey Fang…” he mutters. There’s not a hint of excitement in his voice, even when seeing me. It reminds me of the first week of school, before we really knew each other. When he was trying to fly under everyone’s radar, shutting everyone else out of his life.
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Come on, that’s going a bit far. Something’s just… on his mind.
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“Everything alright?” I ask, failing to keep concern out of my voice.
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“Hm? Oh, uh, it’s… it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.” Too late, I’m worrying about it. The bell ringing in the background cuts short any prodding I want to do, and Dr. Fernsworth takes his place at the front of the class. No dice on a quiet period, as the fossil of a teacher dives right into an involved lecture about magnets or some shit. Old as he is, he has an ear for side conversations and isn’t afraid to use it for even the briefest of unauthorized whispers.
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The period passes agonizingly slowly, and the entire time my mind twists and tumbles with explanations for Anon’s behavior. Something is obviously wrong, but what? Is he just tired? Doesn’t really seem like it. Bad grades? He’s never seemed to care about those before, at least not to this extent. Bullies? What could they have done to make him act like this? Is he-
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No, no no no no no. Don’t even think about that. There’s no way. It wouldn’t make sense, anyway...
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The bell rings, signalling the end of this painful lecture, and hopefully the end of this painful worry. The two of us shift out of our chairs and file out of the room with everyone else. He absentmindedly stuffs his hands in his pockets, gaze trained on the floor. I wriggle my arm in the space between his arm and side, hooking him close to me. Whoa, he’s walking fast. I have to pick up the pace to not fall over.
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“Tell me what’s up.” I internally cringe at my tone and hope it didn’t come off as too pushy.
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“Come on, I said not to worry about it.”
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“Too late, I’m worrying about it.”
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“It’s nothing.”
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“If it’s nothing, then why not tell me?”
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“Because, I…” He trails off, his sentence remaining unfinished. “Look, I need to get to class. I’ll see you later.” My arm slips away and returns to my side as Anon walks into his class, leaving me by myself. Something is wrong. Is he embarrassed about something? Is it rutting season for him? Do humans even have rutting seasons?
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Too many questions remain unanswered as I suffer through fifth period. I consider texting Anon, but decide against it. If he wouldn’t tell me then, he probably wouldn’t tell me now. I’d have to wait that one out. I navigate to Trish’s entry in my phone and send her a quick text.
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‘do humans have a rutting season or something?’
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A reply arrives promptly.
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‘no, and i rly dont need to kno ur thinkin that, doogle it next time’
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I slap my phone screen-down onto my leg, heat rushing to my face. Question answered, but at what cost?
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The bell grants me mercy, releasing me from fifth period and into lunch. Plenty of time to have a nice conversation with Anon and get some answers. I don’t bother grabbing any food and make my way to the roof where we’ve sat together so many times before. I push open the door, climb up the ladder and…
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Empty. I guess I should’ve expected that. This is my first place to go when I’m feeling down, not Anon’s. I head back inside and back to the cafeteria, scanning the fields of students for the one chrome-domed human in the entire school.
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Nowhere to be found. Damnit, where is he? The auditorium? That doesn’t make sense, but I’ve got nowhere else to look at the moment. I peel off in that direction, with no confidence that I would find Anon there.
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I push open the door and inside are Trish and Reed, quietly eating on the stage.
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“Uh, hey Fang…” Reed says. Trish stays silent, turning away from me.
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“Hey… either of you seen Anon?” I ask.
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“Yeah, saw him in math. Seemed pretty down in the dumps, so we didn’t bother him.”
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“Right, and after that?” Reed only shrugs. Shit. I rush back out and, out of options, I wander the halls. I pull out my phone and start writing a text to Anon. Right before I hit send, I look up and finally spot him. He’s leaning against his locker, looking at the floor, completely motionless, just like earlier. I quietly walk up to him and wrap my hands around his arm.
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“Come on, Anon…” I whisper. “Tell me what’s wrong. Please?” He remains quiet, but I can feel him slowly tense. He lets out a shaky breath. He clenches his jaw, but it doesn’t hide his trembling lip.
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“I-I just…” he breathes.
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“I’m here.” I wrap my arms around him, and he returns the embrace.
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“One day… one day he was there...” He clutches me tightly, his emotions on the verge of spilling out. “And the next… gone…” Oh no…
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Focus, Fang. You can do this. He’d do the same for you. Hell, he already has. Right now, none of my questions matter.
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“He was… so young…” He gives in, weeping into my shoulder. I keep quiet, stroking his back as he continues. “I don’t-I don’t know what… what I’m going to do…”
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“I didn’t…” A sob wracks his body, echoing around the empty hall and bringing tears to my eyes. “I didn’t even get to say goodbye…”
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“Where… where did you go?” he wails. I openly cry with him, unable to steel myself against such raw emotion. He buries his face into my shoulder.
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“Raymba!” he screams, barely muffled by my body. Through all the tears, it takes some time for me to process what he said. Raymba… the fucking phone roomba? Is this a prank? I pull back to get a good look at Anon. His red, puffy eyes stress the genuine sorrow etched onto his face as he breathes erratically. But over a phone roomba? Surely, he-
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Then suddenly, it hits me. I recall memories of a much younger Lucy, crying her eyes out to her parents, her brother, and anyone that would hear…
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Because of Mister Fluffers. The cutest white stuffed rabbit I had ever seen, that I had for as long as I remembered. One day, it just vanished. I never saw it again. Sure, I was like, eight, but Anon did mention never being allowed to have a pet, and he even made the thing his computer password.
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“Oh, Anon…” I resume our embrace. Fully cognizant of the situation, I’m ready to help.
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Maybe I’ll make a stop at Little Trudoon later...
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