Chapter Text
"Stupid brat!" Was the only warning that was given before the bottle was thrown across the room, slamming into the wall with a loud crash. Shards of glass fly in all directions, some landing near the trembling boy on the floor.
Shadow looming, casting a threatening darkness over him, clumsy insults are meshed and thrown out angrily, poured onto him and weighing heavy before a callous hands comes down on his head and snatches at his cherry locks with enough force to rip the strands right of their stem.
"Can't you do anything fucking right?" His back collides with the wall behind him, pain shoots up his spine. Forcing his swollen, discolored eyes to open just in time to see the large fist coming at him before it makes contact with his numbing cheek. Head is thrown in one direction before immediately thrown the opposite way as another punch lands. Then another and another in what looks to be an unending cycle.
"All you had to do was get the damn beers!" His words are barely comprehensible to him, whether that was due to his drunken state or the swaying of his consciousness is unsure. He can't really focus on anything besides the growing pain on every part of his body and the fear ringing in his ears.
"I'm sorry!" The exclamation shot out like a cry for help; broken, panicked and hurried, "I tried to get them, I swear, but they--" He chokes, nausea climbing up his throat as a fist slams into his stomach. He bites his tongue to suppress the feeling but all it causes is blood to cover his tongue, coating his tastebuds with its disgusting flavor before its quickly overpowered by this morning's breakfast--which he pukes up and onto the floor.
"Don't give me that shit! Didn't I teach you not to be a lying sack of..shit!" The curses comes down on him just as the foot does and he face is drowned in his own throw up. He curls up. Both in an attempt to suppress the overwhelming swarm of emotions and to block the incoming attacks on his head and stomach--the two places his father seemed to love to attack the most.
"I'm not lying I swear!" And there goes his nose. Leather hits it and suddenly a striking pain overwhelms everything else and flows out in the form of rushing crimson.
"I'm sorry..! I'm sorry..! I'm..! I..!" They tumble from his lips, jumbled and muddled like his tears mixing with his blood upon connecting at his bruised chin. They're loud, but they slowly drown out in his ears. It makes him panic all the more.
"I'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI--"
A loud screams echoes. It's blood-curdling, high-pitched and filled with fear as it bounces off the walls. His eyes shoot open; his surroundings are barely comprehended over his heart that pounds in his chest and the lack of air in his lungs. He grips at his shirt, failing to take note of it's silk that's encased in his trembling hands..
And then a sudden chill comes into contact with his cheek. He's startled, his sensing suddenly honing. His heart stills and he lets out another cry and flails his arm to rid himself of the feeling. A loud smack echoes.
But instead of hearing his father's gruff, drunken insults, the words that fall upon his ears in soft and smooth, like falling snow.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you, young one, but you seemed so panicked, I.." His eyes dart over and instead of locking with the darkened, enraged ones he'd grown used to, he's met with bright ones dimmed with concern. Who..
His body shoots up and the pain comes rushing back instantly. His body locks up and the pain intensifies. A wince is heard, shuddered and thin. The chill returns and it diverts his attention momentarily. His fear spikes and he violently flinches away from the feeling, his shrunk pupils returning to the unfamiliar face.
"Please, there's no need to fear," The words come out in a quiet whisper. It's weird to here, but he listens with bated breaths, "Everything's okay. You aren't in any danger. You're okay now."
"Can you take a deep breath for me, young one?" He stiffens, you notice and continue, "I'll take deep breaths with you."
"Breathe in.." Slowly, you take in a breath, steadily allowing the air to fill your lungs. He hesitates, but mimics you, quickly sucking in all the air he could, "Breathe out.." Slowly, your chest falls, a small wisp sound being heard as the air is slowly pushed out from your glossed lips. He copies, pushing everything out at once.
"Again, breathe in," This time, the two of you breath in at the same time, although he rushes it and sucks in air until his lungs sting and exhaling before you do, "Breathe out," You still say before exhaling.
"Breathe in... Breathe out... Breathe in... Breathe out... Breathe in.. Breathe out..." You repeat it like mantra over and over until finally, his pace matches yours. Slowly, you both breathe in, savoring the air as it enters and exits your body in a steady rhythm.
"Good job, young one," The praise falls from your lips so casually, and yet, it didn't fail to convey the gentle sincerity it was drenched in, "You did such a great job.."
He gulps thickly, finally gaining the courage to ask, "Where.. Where am I?"
"Somewhere safe," You immediately replied, "How are you feeling?"
How is he feeling? It wasn't often that he was asked that question. How should he respond? Everything aches, should he tell them that? Will they hurt him if he tells the truth? A swirl of fear resurfaces..
He decides to keep his mouth shut.
His eyes are trained on you. Watching your every move, especially your hands. Whenever they twitch, his eyes dart to them. You notice and fold them over each other in attempt to quell his nerves. Your attempt fails.
"Would you like something to eat?" You ask him, "I could have something prepared for you." Silence.
"Do you like toys? Video games maybe? I have those stashed away somewhere in this place.. If you'd like, I can go find them," More silence. You can feel your nervousness slowly creeping up your skin. But, you mustn't show it in your face no matter what, lest you want him to put up even more walls.
And so, you get. Making sure to be slow and cautious with every movement you make as to not startle him. His eyes never leave you and his body language tells you that he's ready to bolt or scream if you do anything that alarms him. It makes you wonder what he had been through prior to finding him to have to be so guarded when in the presence of another. The bruises give you some ideas, but even so, each possibility that pops in your head feeling like a stab in the chest.
"Since you don't seem to be in the mood, I'll take my leave and allow you some rest. Please refrain from moving around so much. Those wounds are still as fresh as ever, after all." You flash him a smile, one small and fragile, before turning on your heel with a soft click from the sole of your shoes, "If there's anything you need, please don't be afraid to let me know.."
Then you suddenly halt and his heart skips. His fingers, which he despised for trembling so much in the moment, had balled into a tight fist. What do you plan to do now? Are you going to throw something at him? Threaten him? What about—
"Hm, but I did tell you not to move around much, didn't I? Hmm.. Ah, I know," You look back at him, that same smile still spread on your face, albeit it had a more triumphant curve to it, "I'll have Haru stay close by so all you have to do is shout! Oh, and if there's something you'd like from me personally, please let him know and I'll come running—! Er— Not literally though, Haru mopped the floors not too long ago, heh heh.." With that awkward chuckle resonating in the room back by the sound of the door faintly closing, he was finally alone.
You left him alone. Without a slur or a curse or a slap to the face, you just..left. And yet, he still trembles. Like a coward.
But he isn't a coward! He isn't! He isn't, he isn',t, he isn't, he isn't, he isn't, he isn't!
Then a striking pain in his arm overpowers any other feeling. His eyes trail down and a trail of red is what he sees, his thumbnail covered to match it. He hadn't even realized it, but he had dug his nail into his skin hard enough to break it. It stung and the blood had begun to stain the bandages you put on his arm..
But it stopped his trembling. The pain made his body behave just as it always did and that's all that mattered in the end..
◂◆▸
A couple days passed and your morning started as it always did. Haru had blinded you awake by opening the curtains, you had ate a delicious breakfast, and got dressed for the day. You didn't have any particular plans for the day—a perfect day to go shopping. You need to restock on paint so you can finish that painting you started—Oh! And you should also grab some fabric so you can start making that dress you finally finished to sketch of! Oh yeah! And you need to—
"My lady," You jump, your mug nearly slipping out of your hand and onto your lap. Your eyes dart over to person responsible for the near disaster and are met with a scowl from Haru.
"I can tell by the look in your eye that you plan to be as uncoordinated as ever. While I have no problem with that, may I ask that you please, please refrain from your usual messes." His voice conveyed his desperation in a dignified and sophisticated manner as it did with any other emotion he portrayed to everyone. You waved him off, your grin meeting the top of your cup where you took a sip, the amazing blend of your drink meeting your tongue and wooing your taste buds.
"You have nothing to fear. I only plan to dabble with some things here and there."
"And yet, somehow, that makes me even more uneasy than before." He says with a sigh, although he sounded more like a tired father than a worried butler, "Moving on from that..our guest.." He seemed hesitant to continue yet you wait anyways and sure enough, he continued after a moment of silence, "..He seems rather..self-destructive."
Your brows knit together, "Could you elaborate?"
"Of course.. You see a few nights ago, while he was asleep, I changed his bandages out. They were stained in blood and I found that the root cause of it were from little cuts in his skin. They seemed fresh compared to his other wounds and while I'd rather not assume the worse, I must add that I found blood under his fingernails.." He explained, and the only response he got in return was a low hum. As he spoke, you found stepping down a staircase of possibilities. If he did do that to himself....why? His wounds weren't at all light and his body language implies that he used to that sort of abuse. It's heartbreaking, so much so that you want to cry on his behalf.
Who knows what that boy had went through before you found him. Your fingers tighten around the handle of your mug. Did he often end up in that half dead state? Your brows knit together.
"Well, I've made my decision," The sudden determination in your voice is startling, albeit Haru merely shows his surprise with widening eyes, "I'm going to adopt him."
"My lady," His voice is more urgent than he intended it to, but he was in a rush to get his words out before you interrupted him, "While I'm not trying to underestimate you, are you sure you're ready to make such a big decision? I mean, it's barely been a year since--"
"I understand your concern, Haru," And your softened tone melts him instantly. You set your mug aside and stand to your feet, the fabric of your clothes swaying gently as you made quick strides up to him so that he could see your smile up close--that pillowy smile that you were hoping would put his unease to rest, "But, I'm not as fragile as you think I am. Not as much as I used to be anyways.. I promise, I'm ready for this."
At some point your hands had made your way to his gloved ones and intertwined them together. As you spoke, you gave him soft squeezes of reassurance and as you looked into his eyes, you were hoping he could see the confidence that were swirling in them. Luckily, you seem to convey your feelings to him and he gives you a smile that reminds you of the past. The smile that has you seeing him in an old light when he was just Haru. Your childhood bestfriend who wore his emotions on his sleeve. Your bestfriend who was so clumsy as a kid that he gained cuts and bruises as often as he blinked..
"If you're sure about this then I have no further objections. And, as always, I'll be here for you every step of the way, my lady."
A giggle slips from your lips, "Can't even drop the formalities in times like this? Your a professional to the core."
A chuckle is heard from him, one warm and familiar only to you and the people of the past, "Of course I am. I'm to constantly represent you after all."
"Even so.." You sigh, your warm hands leaving his as you feigned disappointment, "When we're alone like this, it would be nice to hear you say my name after all these years.."
"Moving away from that, what do you plan to do now?" And he smoothly changes the subject, how like him, you thought, "I mean, adopting him is easy, but will he accept you just as readily?"
"Don't worry, I've already thought of a plan!" You put your hands on your hips, your chest puffing out ever so slightly. It makes Haru quirk a brow.
"And what is this plan of yours that you're so confident about?" He asks.
"I'm going to cook him a meal!"
"..."
"..Well..?" You drawl after a while of stiff silence. Your face and voice full of anticipation and excitement like an eager little kid waiting to see their parents' reaction to a masterpiece they've spent hours on, "What do you think?"
Haru's face confused you. As sudden and simple as your little plan was, it was perfect in your eyes. I mean, what better way to bond with someone than over a delicious meal? It was a cute idea, so why did he seem so--what's the word--afraid?
"Haru?" You call, and at last, Haru seems to come back down to reality. He blinks owlishly before clearing his throat and shooting a muffled apology into his glove and saying, "Your plan it's.."
"It's..?" You parrot, obviously wanting him to continue, and he does. Hesitantly, but he does.
"..It's certainly a plan.. Ah-- Why don't I make suggestion," He says with a stretched smile, one you don't seem to take much mind to thankfully, "How about you make him an outfit instead? His clothes are in tatters so new clothes would be best for him. Not to mention that it'll get him to trust you more."
"Hm, you do have a point," And his smile evens out from relief. Another disaster prevented, thank goodness, "But he hasn't eaten since we brought him here. And who knows how long it's been since he's last had a meal," It seems he spoke too soon.
"Well then, how about you paint him something?" Haru quickly shoots out another idea, although this one he'll admit wasn't the best. That being said, he ends up following up with, "Or perhaps simply buying him something would be a less time consuming option?"
"Buying something would be faster, but it wouldn't give the same effect that I'm going for," You explain, "And what would a boy his age want with a painting? If anything, video games would be a better gift."
"Then you should go with that. Video games is the best way to the heart of a boy his age. Plus, it's a convienient and easy way to build a relationship with him. ..While we don't have any games like that lying around here, it be my pleasure to--"
"Haru," The way you say his name makes wrinkles form in his smile, but he keeps it on his face nevertheless, fearing that dropping it would give something away to you, "Do you not like the idea of me cooking?"
"Of course not, my lady," That response came out of him immediately and was executed perfectly, just like his next words, "I just don't want you to become stressed out. Cooking can get very complicated very quickly and you know how you get when you're overwhelmed."
"Oh, don't worry about me!" You wave off his practiced words of concern like you would a fly, "I already have a dish in mind and I can assure you that it's simple but delectable! It'll be amazing!"
"Allow me to help you out then," He offers, his last attempt to save the situation he just knows will end poorly for all involved. Alas, his defeat is declared in the sound of your voice.
"That won't be necessary, but I appreciate the offer," You give him a smile. A familiar one of pure innocence that would only fit the face of an angel like yourself. A smile that currently fills Haru with nothing but deep dread. He watches, his brows creasing lines into his skin as you walk with a bounce in your step up to the door. You then pause, and Haru finds himself hoping--no, praying that you'd tell him that you changed your mind and that you'll need his assistance in the kitchen.
But alas, that hope dissipates as soon as you open your mouth, "In a little while, could you wake our guest? If he asks any questions, simply tell him that breakfast will be ready soon."
Bowing his head, Haru murmurs out a low, "As you wish," It was obvious that his voice spurred curiosity in you and left many questions in the air, but whether it was because of your excitement or something else entirely, those questions are never spoken aloud and you end up walking out of the room.
Haru raises his head as the sound of the door closing echoes throughout the room, signalling that he's finally alone. He finds himself sighing out and running a hand through his hair, staring at the door with eyes of apprehension.
Hopefully things won't go as bad as he expects it will..
◂◆▸
Hours pass quicker than Haru would've liked it too. It was sometime in the afternoon and the previous bright blue sky of the morning had toned down a little as it had gotten used to the sun's bright rays.
You had finally summoned him after banning him from the kitchen, telling him to bring your little guest along with him. You had asked him so nicely too, how was he to refuse?
And so, he found himself knocking on the door of the room the boy had refused to leave. He knocked once, then twice, then thrice, he was even nice enough to give him a warning of his entry before finally opening the door.
He's met with a familiar sight of the boy curled into himself on the bed and immediately puts on the most gentle smile he could muster. A certain pillowy smile that you've praised before. It was perfect for this situation.
"How are you feeling?" He asks, not taking it to mind when he doesn't answer him. Over these few days he's known him, he's learned that your little guest wasn't much of a talker. And that's completely fine. Quiet people are some of his favorite kind of people since they usually don't cause messes for him to clean.
"My lady has invited you to eat lunch with her," He says, and he notices the slight twitch of the boy's brows but doesn't comment on it, instead rolling the most easygoing tone into his words as he said, "Of course, if you want to decline that request. I'll be more than happy to bring you lunch like I have been."
Maybe it isn't too late to save this child. If he just phrases it in the right way, the little boy would have the intellect to pick up on his obvious implication. And even if he doesn't and still declines, that's perfectly acceptable as well. He'll be spared from the suffering.
But alas, it seems that Haru had took too long to ponder. The boy, although his movements were cautious and he was watching Haru as if he were peeking through a closet and observing some terrifying monster, slowly lowered his arms from his ankles. His little fingers sliding down the sides of the neatly cut bandages and feeling the smooth surface--free of any loose ends, uneven cuts, or sticky blood--under his fingertips.
As he does this, the heel bone of his feet slowly glide against the fabric of the thick blanket, escaping the almost tickling touch his fingertips brought and eventually causing his tiny feet to dangle off the edge of the bed and sway a little.
That's when he finally opened his mouth and Haru's goal of playing hero shatters like fine china, "I..guess I can."
Stilling reaching to scoop up the broken shards and piece his goal back together by hand, Haru asks the redhead, "Are you sure? Again, you don't have to force yourself."
"It's just lunch with her," The boy replies, albeit in a quiet grumble, too scared to raise his voice any higher, "I ain't scared."
You should be--was what Haru wanted to say. It's a shame the boy had to make a breakthrough with him now of all times because now's he's forced to lie as if he wasn't about to walk him to possibly his last meal ever.
"Very well then. Come, let me show you to the dining hall.."
◂◆▸
"What's your impression on my lady so far?" Was the question that replaced the silence in the long, tall corridor. As it echoed and bounced off the walls and meshed with the periodic clicking and the occasional squeak of Haru's shoes, Daimon found himself responding with the first thought that came to his head, "She smells nice."
"Hm?" A rather odd answer, but Haru supposes that it's much better than nothing at all, "What does she smell like to you?"
Like a freshly baked cookie..or maybe something more toned down like a bubble bath would be more accurate. He's only been around her for an hour at most, but he's never picked up a hint of any sucky side hobbies. She doesn't smell like those cheap, overwhelming sprays the teachers at his school drench themselves in to cover up the obvious residue smell their smoke breaks leave. She smells nowhere near like the sickening stench of beer that makes his chest tighten and his stomach twist. He hasn't even smelt a sourish breath from her that wine leaves, making him believe that she doesn't partake in any of those activities.
..But is that even possible for an adult? Has he actually managed to meet a grown-up who isn't chained to those disgusting hobbies? He can't believe, he doesn't believe it. No way is she some saint. She's probably just really good at hiding it.. Yeah, that's probably it.
He's sure that if he hugged her, he'd smell it as clear as day.
"Young sir," He blinks, nearly breaking his neck to look up at Haru, who was still waiting on his response.
Did he..seriously just zone out around a grown up? And all he did..was call him? Not a smack upside the head even still? Not even a yell or an insult? He doesn't even hold a stern tone.
The adults in this house are weird..
"Are you alright, young sir? If you don't want to share the logic behind your response, that's completely alright."
"Y- Yeah, let's do that. Talking about mushy stuff is nasty anyways.."
"Hm, very well then."
◂◆▸
The large chandelier hung as the centerpiece of the room. It's varying layers hanging low--not that one would be able to tell from how high the walls and ceiling is. It was decorated from top to bottom in rhinestones and jewels, flashing and showing off in it's own light like a lavish dress made of gold.
It shines brightly--too brightly in your opinion, but you still had it strung up regardless. After all, you were never one to throw out gifts, no matter how gaudy or unnecessary it looked.
Plus it seems your little friend likes it. Or maybe, he's simply in awe at the size of it. Either way, seeing him with another expression besides scrunched terror was relieving to see, even if the expression that replaced it was akin to gawking.
You can't wait to see what expression he makes when he tastes your masterpiece!
With a loud clank echoing throughout the room, you set the plate down on the head of the long table, smiling wider than a clown as you say, "Here you are! I hope you like gyoza!"
The boy looks down at the browned dumplings neatly splayed out on the plate in small rows of three--a display he's only seen in the past on boring cooking shows, but that's not important right now.
As he separates his chopsticks, his eyes trail over to the butler standing on his right. He's close--too close for his liking--and he can smell his cologne because of it. Surprisingly, it's light and reminds him of freshly washed sheets; again, not even the slightest whiff of a cigar, weed, or beer.
He finds himself trailing up his unwrinkled clothes and stopping at his clean, shaven face. Haru's staring down at him, or rather, his food. A small, polite smile perfectly placed on his face as if had been knitted there. His eyes never once spare him a glance. Is he hungry? If so, why doesn't he cook something for himself? Does he expect him to offer up his plate to him?
Is this to test his obedience? Will he grab the plate and crack it over his head if he doesn't? What if--
"Young sir," He flinches hard. Fear shoots through him like a chill down his spine. His heart began to pick up in pace like a slowly speeding car. This was a test after all! They are going to hurt him! He knew it! Adults can't be trusted! They're--
"Be careful as the dumplings may be a little too hot for consumption at the moment." Oh..
"R- Right! I knew that!" He blurted out, his head spinning over to the plate, and despite the soft warning, pops the molten goop of molded flour, chews..and immediately spits it up.
"Ack!" His hand cups over his throat, his tongue sticking out as he heaves, coughs, and gags in that order. The previous chill of fear was replaced by a rope of flames. He turns to you, his arm wiping at his mouth as his brows, nose and lips scrunch in unison, wrinkling his tan skin. He shouts, looking at you as if you had just done some heinous crime, "Are you trying to poison me or something?!"
You were froze, so much so that it seems your hair had plucked itself out of place. You mouth hung open, bottom lip twitching to say something yet no words leave you. You had also grown pale in the face. It truly was a comical sight to behold and yet, no one laughs. In fact, Haru seems to do the opposite; an uncharacteristic grimace forming on his face and his hand coming up to cover it as he shakes his his head.
Just as he thought, you're cooking skills had made zero improvement. Although he's mostly to blame since he's pulled various tricks and excuses out of his head to avoid this very situation from happening..
Meanwhile, the boy was still staring at you with an accusatory gaze as if you had stole his favorite toy. He knew something was up! No way an adult could be so nice for no reason! All along, you've been having him tended to so that he'd lower his guard and you could lure him out and kill him! He can't believe he fell for something..so..
"Huh?" The word tumbled out of his lip in a similar way Haru's sigh did at the sight of the crystalline tears gliding down your face.
"I- I'm sorry.." Your hands slid over your warming, reddening face--a futile attempt to hide your crushed spirit, "I'm so..hic.. I'm sorry, little one.."
As tears dripped through the unseen cracks your fingertips left between each other, you continued, mumbling out from behind your hands, "I really did.. I really wanted you.. I- I--"
"My lady," Haru cooed. Making quick, short strides around the chair and up to you where he wrapped his thin arms around you and pulled you into his chest, shielding away the boy's view of you.
"It's okay, my lady," He whispered, his gloved hand rubbing circles into your trembling backside, "It's okay.. You did your best. That's what matters.. Let's not lose our composure before the young sir.."
He then turns his head back, peering at the boy from the corner of his eye, and it was then that it finally dawned on the boy what he's down; he..yelled at a grown up.
Fear strikes him like lightning. He really..just yelled at an adult. His heart rate spikes in half of a second. The air in his lungs unable to keep up with the sudden rush of his blood and ultimately evaporating in his chest.
He's made her cry so now he's going to get hurt. He's going to hit him or slap him or punch him or, or--
"I apologize that today dinner was not to your likely, young sir," Haru told him, "If you want, you may go back to your room and I'll bring you something more to your taste. Until then, please excuse me.." And he turns back to your sniffling form without so much as a nasty glare at the boy, whispering incoherant words into your ear as he guide you out of the dining hall, leaving the boy with fearful puzzlement on his face and wondering what the hell just happened--and most importantly--why he still has all his teeth in his mouth..