Tendrils of light streamed in through the window, gently lighting up his lap in cascades of orange and yellow. It felt nice and calming, for some reason. He hadn't had many chances to enjoy the simple aura that came with homes before, and waking up on something that wasn't concrete or a hastily stacked up pile of newspaper was a jolt to his system. This had been his first night in Professor Korrs' home.

Of course, the bed was much too small for his lanky body, and the room looked fit for a six-year old. That didn't matter, however. He was used to curling up into a ball when sleeping. Though, he wasn't used to not being on his guard 24/7. That's gonna take a while to correct.

Pushing himself up, a sharp pain suddenly streamed through his arms and he fell down with a shocked cry. The wounds, he remembered blearily. Of course it would burn like hell the next day.

A gentle knock sounded on the door. Well, his door now, and he ignored the pain in order to sit up on the bed. What do people usually do when someone knocks? He copied what he heard the old man say whenever someone knocked on his door.

"Come in," he croaked. It seems like his voice also took a beating. He sounded like a deflated frog.

A dusky brown coated sweeped into the room, and his eyes were drawn upward to gawk at the tall, pale figure. Professor Korr looked better than he did last night. In the light of morning, his dark hair was sweeped up into shiny curls, bouncing with his every movement and his electric green eyes were hidden behind a pair of narrow-lensed glasses. Did he wear glasses last night?

He adjusted the glasses. "Last night wasn't my best look." He said sheepishly, noticing the way the boy was staring at him. "But please, why don't you clean up so we can have breakfast? It's eight-thirty already." He said warmly. The professor was calmer today. Less manic. Noticing his blank stare, he reiterated. "It's early morning."

Early morning. That was also a term he understood. When the sun was just beginning to rise. He nodded, throwing off the blue sheets and immediately regretting it as a sharp pain assaulted his back. Professor Korr made a pained sound. "I'll get the medicine the clinic prescribed as well." He said, sweeping out of the room.

He collapsed back onto the bed as soon as Professor Korr left, heavy huffs leaving him at every interval. What was wrong with him?

No, he wouldn't let a few cuts deter him. Bracing himself, he pushed his body off of the bed. If he concentrated enough, the stinging wouldn't be so bad. What did Professor Korr tell him to do again? Clean up?

Conveniently, the room had a bathroom connected to it. He loped over to it gingerly, making sure to take his time.

Stepping into the bathroom, the cold tiles held a pleasant contrast to the humid air. It was rather small. A quaint toilet and basin sat directly next to eachother, a shower perpendicular to it. He'd have to stand and shower. He shuddered at the thought of all that water running over his wounds.
That was chaos waiting to happen.

Walking up to the basin, he nearly gagged at his reflection. How long has it been since hes had a proper shower? His hair - which was supposed to be ginger - resembled an oily dog that got thrown out into the rain. His grey eyes were underlined with deep bags, stretching past his gaunt cheekbones. Ah, the fine result of constant starvation and too-much exercise.

Inspecting the Injuries on his arms, he could see now why it hurt so much. Deep gashes ran from his wrist to his elbow, some haphazardly stitched, some simply washed out. His back probably looked ten times worse.

He began peeling off the sweaty nightgown he came out of the clinic with. Professor Korr didn't have any clothes that fitted him, and the staff probably burnt his raggedy clothes when they stitched him up. He didn't blame them. He'd do the same if he had the luxury to.

He turned his attention to the shower itself. Gently moving the curtain away, he switched the tap on and marveled as the water spewed out from the showerhead, castings thin layer of steam over the mirror and into the air. He'd have to wash one part at a time, then deal with his injuries. Stepping onto the mosaic tiles of the shower, he shivered as the warm water lapped at his feet. That felt nice.
He sat down cross-legged, picked up a bar of sweet smelling soap and set to work scrubbing his legs. The filth disappeared from his body and swirled down the drain, giving way to tan skin. He repeated the process for his arms and stomach, only carefully dabbing at the spots where he was stitched up.

Bracing himself, he dove underneath the shower spray. The wounds on his back immediately protested, but he soon got used to the stinging. Setting to work on fervently lathering up his hair, he didn't stop until all the oil and grime was gone.

He turned the shower spray off. This was possibly the cleanest he's ever been in his life. Stepping out of the shower, he wrapped himself in a towel and quickly dried his hair. Wiping the fog off the mirror, he grinned in victory. He looked less like an abandoned dog, and more like one  that was well taken care of. For the first time in forever, his freckles were actually visible.

Just then, a knock sounded on the door. "Hey, kid? Are you okay? You've been in there for thirty minutes." A voice called. Was thirty minutes a long time?
"I'm fine!" He called back sheepishly. From the sound of his voice, it probably was a long time.

"I found some clothing that'll fit you until we buy you new ones. I'll leave it outside the door." Professor Korr called, his voice drowned out by the door. He briefly heard sound of retreating footsteps and quickly unlatched the door, scooping the clothes up. It was a grey T-shirt with baggy brown pants. He could make that work. He was just glad that he didn't have to strap on the hospital gown again.

In the end, the clothes sagged on him, but he didn't mind. What to do now?

His stomach growled in a beastly manner as a warm scent wafted into his nostrils. Food!

Following his nose, he exited the room - his room - and approached the kitchen. Professor Korr was seated on a soft chair, shoving something that looked like a flat, syrupy piece of bread into his mouth. His stomach growled again.

Professor Korr's face lit up as he made eye contact with the boy, and he eagerly patted the chair next to him. He took the silent invitation hesitantly, padding over the room to demurely sit by the Professors side. A ceramic plate sat in front of him, the same bread the Professor was eating piled onto it with a strange golden syrup running down its centre. "Eat." Professor Korr encouraged, handing him a knife and a fork.

He didn't know how to use a knife and a fork. After a few minutes of embarassing attempts at trying to cut the strange meal, he settled for ripping the pile apart and shoving it into his mouth. Sweet and savoury flavors melted in his mouth, and a delighted groan left him. This was the best syrupy bread he's had in his life. Professor Korr smiled one of his strange smiles. "Pancakes." He stated.

"Pawan-pwakes?" The boy questioned, his mouth stuffed full with the syrupy goodness.

The professor took a quick glance at his arms. "Here, have this." He encouraged, pushing two white tablets towards him. While he eyed the pills wearily, the Professor smeared a strange ointment that seemingly arrived out of thin air into his hands and began petting his wounds. He flinched at the cool liquid at first, but gradually began to relax. He would not show weakness. He shoved the pills into his mouth, immediately scrunching his face at the bitter flavour. "Have it with water." Professor Korr encouraged.

He picked up a glass and downed it quickly, scowling at the bitter flavour that still resided on his tongue. If only he had more syrupy bread - what did the professor call it? Pwancates? - to wash out the bitterness. He turned his head around, about to ask for some more ' pwancates' when the look on the Professors face stopped him dead in his tracks. A contented smile sat on his lips, reminiscent to the smile be he had in the picture frame.

As soon as it was there it disappeared , leaving him to wonder if it was all an illusion. The manic grin returned, full-teeth and all.

"Look how the time flies! It's already ten o'clock. We have many things to do!" The professor suddenly cried out, whisking their plates away and into a basin.

"Many things to do?" The boy questioned, watching his brown coat dance as he haphazardly washed the dishes. The manic energy he associated with the professor returned full-force. The Professor hummed. "We need to pick out a new mattress for you and get you some new clothes!"

When the professor was done washing the dishes, he basically flung himself out the door and into the forest.

"Wait up!" He cried, hedying himself up from the chair and ambling outside as fast as he possibly could. What greeted him made him gasp. The forest was lovely in the day; the trees seemed to dance with the wind as the light filtered in through the canopy.

His inspection was interrupted by a loud 'beep!'

He jumped violently, his back protesting against the action. Whirling his head towards the cause of the sound, his eyes landed on Professor Korr in the drivers seat of the car. He scowled at the professor, and in turn he could see the man laughing jovially. He leaned his head outside the window.

"Well? C'mon, son! We have a day of shopping ahead of us!"

He wondered if the man was even suited to drive a car.

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Six hours of walking around later, he decided that he didn't like shopping.

After an overwhelming selection of clothing, they finally selected a few decent ones and one new bed for the boy. By the time they had come back, the light had faded from the forest, the quite chatter of crickets and bats pressing the still air.

He was now sitting a few spaces away from the professor, on a couch he spotted when he arrived at the cottage.  He marveled at the television in front of him. It had been too long since he's watched a movie.

The movie? Documentary? The professor chose called 'Masks: The History of Necroma', played on full blast.

Throughout the movie, Professor Korr kept on telling him facts about the Masks that existed before. The professor graduated from a prestigious university known as Oakein, studying the history of Masks and their functions. That explains his eccentricities.

The movie showed a detailed sketch of a large mouse with lovely, green ears.

"Did you know that this mouse is called Lifsil? She's the familiar of Necroma. People say that the mouse reflects the core attributes of Necroma; greed, but also resurrection and necromancy due to the nature of a mouse. They also say..."

The professors words were drowned out by the blood rushing through his ears.

He recognized that damn mouse.

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A/N: Here, have a chapter where he's not being tortured for once. Also, he's a ginger because gingers have no soul and neither does he.