Title: How to Disappear (Chapter 2)
Words: 1221
Warnings: Sexual abuse.
Notes: This is probably the fastest update you'll see from me, hah. As usual, feedback, critique, etc. is much appreciated!
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What was that what was that what was that what the hell was that –
Yuu stumbles away back in the direction he came, toward the study room, staring at the door with horror and disgust. What was that?!
Well, it's none of his business what his servants want to do in their – free time, or whatever. Do they even have free time? Yuu isn't entirely sure, but he's going to find out. Still, that brat isn't getting out of this scot free. He asked him to get his foil. He's going to get his foil. Right. Yes. So Yuu has to wait.
Yuu is going to wait, but nowhere near that room, if he can help it.
He's still not completely sure that the blond actually saw him. He thinks he did. He hopes he didn't, or that he won't mention anything. He recalls the blank, vacant stare, and shudders.
It's when he's near the door to the courtyard, sitting on a stool and pulling his boots on, that Yuu remembers how very much he hates waiting. He can make others wait for him just fine, that's normal, that's natural, but to have to wait for someone else?! Especially a servant? That's unforgivable! Inexcusable! Incon –
He is midway through his internal rant and almost doesn't notice when the servant stops in front of him. He only feels the shadow across him, the change in air and atmosphere. He looks up slowly and meets unblinking blue eyes. Yuu sits up and leans against the back of the chair, taking him in. Unbidden, his gaze falls to the other teenager's hips, and he bites his lip, quickly looking away. If the other realized what he was doing, he makes no indication of it, simply holds the foil out to him in one gloved hand.
"Nah, you can hold it for now," Yuu says, standing up. He jerks his head toward the door. "Open it." He wants to hear him talk. He doesn't; instead, he walks toward the doorway and opens it almost too complacently, revealing the courtyard beyond. It's still a perfectly sunny day, as if the world isn't aware of what occurred minutes ago. The sky is vibrantly blue, the gardens stretch out in all directions Yuu can see, and a wall stands, impassive and unforgiving, at the edge of the property, breaking up the horizon and the shrubs. Somewhere beyond that wall is the city of Shinjuku. The last time Yuu went there was when he was thirteen, four years ago. He misses it, because it's more interesting than this godforsaken house, but his parents won't let him out. It's too dangerous, or something.
So he makes do with his frustration by beating people, or targets, with bendy swords.
He leads the way to the training area and notes with distinct satisfaction that the blond servant is following him, albeit mutely. The air is heavy and sticky with the scent of flowers, and Yuu inhales noisily as he hops up a step to the gravelled plateau. There are no guards to spar with, but he guesses a training robot is as good as any. It's only when he switches one on that he takes the foil from the butler and begins his routine.
• • • •
Yuuichirou frowns into the teacup he holds in one hand, one of his legs crossed over at the knee. His conversation with mother didn't go all that well today. He's never been very good at conversing with her; she angers too easily, just like he does, and while he tries to reign in his temper and his voice, it's all too easy to devolve into a screaming match that leaves their throats raw and servants scrambling to attempt damage control. He thinks that this is probably the reason they don't let him go to the city on his own, or at all.
"You need to be more diplomatic, Yuu."
He probably shouldn't have laughed. That was probably why she'd stared at him with something he could only describe as pure disappointment, and left without another word. In any case, he's still there, sitting with a cup of green tea, hoping she'll come back, because maybe he can try to fix whatever he's screwed up this time. Yuu really doesn't like making his mother upset. She's more tolerable than his father. At least mother doesn't try to beat him whenever he talks back – although his father hasn't tried for years, all things considered.
The door opens, and Yuu glances up hopefully, only to deflate once he realizes that it's only the blond butler, carrying what looks like a basket of cleaning supplies. He doesn't spare Yuu a glance as he picks up a feather duster and wanders to a bookshelf, beginning to dust it. Hmph. What does Yuu have to say to get him to talk? Does he not know who he is?
No, that's impossible. Every person in this house knows who he is – or they should, at least. The very fact that he isn't wearing white like the rest of the servants here should at least ring a bell that Yuuichirou is important.
"So, do you usually let old men do whatever they want with you, or…?" There's a drawl in Yuu's tone, and he knows it, peering at the blond out of the corner of his eye to gauge his reaction. There's no response. Well, maybe it's his wording. Ferid isn't exactly old, despite his hair colour. "Does that happen a lot?" he tries again. The blond still doesn't reply; he simply goes on cleaning the bookshelves, drawing the duster across them in rhythmic, almost soothing motions.
Yuu frowns slightly, leaning back against the couch. "You know, you're very rude." He might as well be talking to a wall. The butler doesn't give any sort of reaction, and the charcoal-haired teen has half the mind to storm up to him and grab him by the shoulders, maybe shake him. He sighs and throws his head back against the backrest, watching the water vapour swirl toward the ceiling as the tea slowly cools. "You know my name, right? It's Yuuichirou. What's yours?"
The swishing sounds of feathers on wood continues. Yuu gives up on hearing a reply, but after what almost seems like an eternity – "Mikaela."
Yuu practically jumps to his feet, saving himself from careening into the small table in the nick of time. "What did you say?" He almost can't believe it. Surely he didn't hear correctly.
The blond stops moving, before turning to face him. "My name is Mikaela," he says, in the exact same way as before. His voice is monotonous, but there is a velvety quality to it that Yuu thinks would be pleasant if he just inflected it with more emotion.
As it is, he can't help but laugh. "So you can talk!" he declares, a little more triumphantly than perhaps is necessary. "I was beginning to think you were mute." The blond doesn't make any attempt to retort. One of his eyebrows does quirk, however, an odd contrast to the way the rest of his expression doesn't move an inch. After a while, he stops his work with the shelves and starts to clean the sole window in the room. Yuu drinks his tea and pretends not to watch.
