Betaed. Thank you for my dear beta-sama, Blind-Alchemist!

Thank you so much for the review! I am so happy. By the way, I will reply to people who doesnt have FF account here.

To Vestiny: 我明白你说的一切。在某种程度上,这是真的。有时我是不安全的,我不知道这个故事的地方去. 感谢你在非常深入的检讨,你给了我. But it's hard to write in chinese using keyboard, so I am going to write English from here on, it's that OK? Thank you so much for reviewing! and I went to see the all Yao-ba baidu's page, it was amazing XD.

To Nalaku: Thank you for reading and reviewing. It's just sometimes I am insecure about how my story goes-it feels like when the number of rewview is decreasing with each chapter-and that made me sad. Because the number of review=the number of people reading, wouldnt it? It's just feel more real when people review/fave /alert it, because that means somebody is still reading this. Uh... I am sorry.

To xxx: I dont know your name, but thank you so much for expressing your thought!

To chanz: Thank you! I am sorry i made you sad, but yes, they are warming towards each other -w- so good... I wanna write smuttttttt! But no, I intend to keep this just safe.

enjoy!


He wasn't a happy child.

Yao watched his peers smiling and laughing across the hall. It was Physical Education class. They were having the period inside the school's old gym hall. And they were supposed to break off into groups of two and practice how to play badminton.

Nobody volunteered to partner him. Even though there were illegal groups of three. People sneered when they saw him. People didn't like him. People thought he was weird and smelly. Frankly, not worthy of friendship.

Yao looked at his hands Theywere empty, void of a racket. Yes, he didn't have a badminton racket. He didn't know where to get one, or how. He couldn't buy one because he had no money. His mother didn't know what badminton was, she kept moaning when Yao mentioned school.

Nobody wanted to be with him.

Yao bit his lips. He knew he shouldn't cry. But last night his mother wouldn't stop screaming and their neighbour was so mad at him. The neighbour shouted at him, demanding that his mother shut the fuck up. And Yao didn't know how. The money from his father's family hadn't arrived, yet his mother's sleeping pills hadbeen finished.

He didn't know what to do. He was tired. He was too small, too weak, and helpless against everything. He was only ten, what could he do to make his mother sleep? Why was everything so hard? Why was he the only one who didn't have a partner in gym class? The lack of a racket wasn't the real issue. They could have lent him one. Some of his classmates had brought a pair of rackets.

But nobody wanted to lend him one, because anything Yao touched became 'dirty'. Because he was born from a dirty affair. And everything he possessed would be tainted too. He was rejected from everything.

He stood across the hall, watching as the whole class minus him played badminton. He was alone. He wanted to cry.

Why?

Why did he want to cry?


He found himself in the maze. Yet again.

He was followed. Again.

He felt the man come nearer. Yet he didn't move, not an inch. He knew. He knew what was coming. And he knew why he couldn't move.

His feet were glued to the floor.

He couldn't run, he shouldn't run, but he wanted to run and scream and shout and blame everything on everything he was.

He felt the arms circle around him; closely. And then the familiar scent…

He needed to open his eyes. Quick. Now. Or else he would see a face he would regret…

Please, he pleaded. Please…

When he opened his eyes, a pair of emeralds also snapped open. His eyes were fixed on another pair of green, clear eyes. They stared at each other.

And out of the blue, Arthur smiled. Like he knew Yao. Like he understood him.

Yao felt something inside him explode. It interfered with his logic. He started to sob. No. No. No.

Tears fell down from his eyes. Yao stood up from the side of the bed. His feet were numb, for he had fallen asleep after taking care of the hung-over Arthur. His feet were almost too painful to move. But he ran, nonetheless, leaving the sick blonde on the bed alone.

He ran to the dressing room, and when he found the bean bag, he cuddled into it. Hugging his legs nearer to his chest, Yao rocked back and forth.

No. No. No.

His body was shaking, and his sobs became louder. His eyes were wet, very much so, and trails of water marred his cheeks. It was the first time he'd cried in years. Maybe ever since his mother's cremation ceremony. He didn't know why. He just wanted to cry so badly.

Why was he so sad? Why did his chest hurt? Why did he feel like he was lost? What was that, the hollow, painful weigh on his chest? Was he experiencing heart arrhythmias? Or was it an emotional reaction? Was that guilt? Or was that fear? Why did he need to have these emotions? Where was his tranquillity from the last three years, being alone? Where did the wall of peace he made around him go?

What was that?

He hoped someone would tell him what that emotion was labelled as.

And the dragged, slow steps behind him made Yao realize he wasn't alone. It was Arthur, in the pyjamas Yao helped him into before, coming into the room.

"…Yao?" Arthur tested the waters before walking in.

Yao shook his head. No. Don't come. No. No.

You are scary. Don't come near me. Don't come near me. Don't come…

Despite the chanting inside his head, Yao spoke nothing.


His day was already bad enough. His books were torn and vandalized. 'Dirty!' 'Bastard!' 'Stupid' writings covered his name on his notebook. He was called names and his toilet door was pulled open while he was still using it. His new classmates then called him a new name, the "smelly toilet".

Looking at his door, Yao felt the resentment build. He didn't want to face his mother too. He didn't want to be reminded why he couldn't retort to the children in his class; it was simply because they were right. He was a bastard. He was the result of a dirty affair. And because he was the son of a crazy woman, of course he was stupid.

But where else could he go? The park? He was afraid of the big dogs and other children. He could stand in front of the door, but it felt like a foolish thing to do. He needed to wash clothes, do homework and make sure his mother ate her afternoon pills. So he hesitantly opened the door.

He was surprised. His mother was waiting for him, with open arms, laughing. She was so pretty. Suddenly Yao felt happy. It was a rare occurrence, seeing his mother smiling when he returned home.

"I am home." Closing the door behind him, Yao shyly repeated the words he heard from the neighbourhood kids when they returned to their homes. It felt good when he said it. He never said it in their old home.

His mother smiled even wider and pulled Yao into her hug. Yao hugged back. Maybe his mother was having one of her better days. Maybe that day was supposed to be a good day. Maybe his mother was stable enough. Maybe he could take her for a walk in the nearby park. He wished her smile stayed longer this time.

"Yao, Yao, I love you."

"I…" Yao started to sob. It was warm. It was very comfortable. It was so good. The hug felt so good. Definitely he would bring his mother to the park today. Definitely. He wanted to show off his beautiful mother to other children. Estranged she might be, but she was more beautiful than any of the other children's mothers .Definitely. "…too, ma. I love…"

Before he couldfinish his sentence, Yao was thrown back. His mother had pushed him away. His mother shrieked and started to tackle herself against the wall. Bump. Bump. Bump. She was having another attack. Because Yao had said the word 'love'.

The door behind his back was impatiently knocked a moment afterwards.

"Boy! Get your crazy mother into a mental hospital, will you? She keeps making noises! You useless, scum of society!" their neighbour shouted through the thin door. Yao pretended he wasn't inside the room and listened to his mother bumping herself toagainst the wall and the cursing of his neighbour.

And thus, neither his dream nor his sentence were ever completed.


"…Why are you crying?" Arthur's shooting voice made Yao flinch. He was trembling hard. He felt weak and threatened. Arthur's question was the one thing he wanted somebody to help him answer. He didn't know why he was crying either. He just knew he felt threatened.

By what?

"Don't cry, Ok? It's alright." Arthur hugged the curled-up Yao, settling himself on the bean bag and accommodating Yao on top of him. "…Your body is cold."

The Chinese boy kept his mouth shut, yet his sobbing had not stopped. Arthur sighed and buried his face into Yao's hair. The boy still refused to turn his face to him. So Arthur spoke in soft whispers to soothe him.

"It's alright… I am sorry for what happened yesterday… But I was happy when you told me that you love me, Yao."

Yao stopped breathing. When did he ever admit that? And then his mind came back. Maybe Kiku was the one who whispered the words. Maybe Kiku was the one who embraced Arthur with the sincerity of a pure love? Yao didn't even understand the meaning of the feeling. And of course when Kiku told Arthur how he felt, Arthur mistook Kiku for Yao.

"I love you too, Yao."

Yao sobbed even louder, but he couldn't speak. He wasn't the one with the feeling. It was Kiku! He couldn't love, for God's sake, it was a ridiculous misunderstanding. Arthur should just go with Kiku… But something prevented him from saying anything to retort to Arthur.

"I'll make up for everything I did last night. I promise I'll be faithful to you. So don't cry, please?"

Ridiculous! He was the one who should be brave and strong. He was the one who was guilty of trampling on another's feelings. He shouldn't be the one who was crying. Oh fuck, he was so embarrassing, why did he cry in the first place? But now he should stop. He should be the usual, mature and cool Yao.

He tried to picture his mother's screams and screeches. Of course, after imagining this, everything he had been teaching himself since he was small came back quickly and boldly. Love is stupid. Affection is fake. Family is bullshit. Happiness is momentary. Relationships are economical. Life is hard and people are cold. You are on your own, Yao forced himself to repeat all over again.

The emotions went away as fast as they came. Yao felt his eyes dry up. He stopped sobbing and trembling. He got a hold of himself. And he started to feel again. The warmth around him was very comforting. The arms around him felt good.

So he smiled. "…Thank you, Arthur."

And to demonstrate how much he meant it, Yao kissed Arthur's lips briefly. Maybe he was just trying to soothe the blonde. Maybe he was trying to answer Arthur's pleas to be faithful. Maybe he was trying to apologize for letting Kiku sleep with Arthur. Maybe he was just trying to thank the man for the affection, for Arthur looked really concerned about him.

But whatever the reason, Yao felt hollow.


Belgium noted the red eyes on her Japanese apprentice. Kiku wasn't as sharp as usual. The boy looked like he was in his own world. But his hand didn't stop writing down whatever Belgium ordered him to do.

The preparation of Yao's surprise birthday party.

"Kiku… are you OK?" Belgium asked. Her motherly instinct knew something was wrong.

The man shook his head softly. She realized maybe she couldn't really help, but she wanted to. Unfortunately she had a lot of other jobs to do and she needed to shift the preparation arrangements to Kiku.

"I am sorry. If you don't feel well, I can ask someone else to do this."

"No, I am fine, Ms. Belgium." Kiku smiled but it was a wry smile. Yes, he was feeling the pain of irony. He needed to prepare a surprise birthday party for the very same bastard who had been trampling on his feelings.

So much for being too conceited. Yao's attention on him had made Kiku feel different, maybe a little bit special, since the sudden attention made Kiku feel like he was good enough for other people to like. He was having a bit of a confidence problem; why hasn't Arthur seen him, despite the years he had been working under Belgium? Was he not attractive enough?

For a little while, Yao's attention had made Kiku believe he was still good enough for Arthur to love, it was just that Arthur was too busy to notice him.

But yesterday, when Yao suddenly said Arthur was waiting for him inside the bedroom… Kiku was torn. He was flattered. Finally! Although he noted the weirdness of why Yao, despite being Arthur's lover at that moment, offered him a chance to be with Arthur, Kiku was too blinded of by his impatience and gullibility to think about other things.

And of course, he came out from the room feeling humiliated, despicable, and full of hatred and rage towards the Chinese bitch.

A slap wasn't enough. Kiku wanted to tear Yao's face until it was unrecognizable. He wanted to make the bitch suffer the shame he felt. The Chinese bitch, source of all evil….

But his job must go on. No matter what kind of personal problems he had, Kiku wouldn't dare ignore his call to work. Of course he would ask Belgium for a change from being the Chinese bitch's manager, but maybe he would do it after he could better control his feelings and could call the Chinese bitch's name without cursing.

"Kiku, this is the manager of the party organizer I hired to help you," Belgium spoke up, snatching Kiku away from his thoughts. "He will be your partner. Mr. Jones, this is Kiku Honda. Kiku, this is Mr. Alfred F. Jones."

"Call me Alfred!" the man spoke merrily. Kiku was irritated. Why was the man speaking so cheerfully? It wasn't fair that the world shone brighter for other people while Kiku was still in his depressed and enraged mode! Kiku gritted his teeth and looked up.

The blonde was sparkling. Really, literally sparkling.

The light was playing tricks on him, Kiku thought. He rubbed his eyes. The man in front of him was twice his size, height-wise as well as width-wise. He wore glasses, but his blue eyes shone clearly through the glass. The tall big blonde was smiling widely, with one gloved hand outstretched, inviting a handshake.

"Hey! My name is Alfred, and it is a pleasure to work with you, darling!"

Kiku immediately knew he was an American. Who else could be that cheerful and use the world 'darling' the very first time they met*?


* No offense for to Americans. It's just… a thing I learnt from my friends XD. And canonly Japan is so uptight, yet America is so friendly, right? They have the whole episode dedicated for both of them, so I thought it was appropriate to put him here.


Yao tried to concentrate. In front of his eyes was the research paper he was supposed to be reading. But the head on top of his lap was distracting him. It kept moving, and when it moved, the hair rubbed against his thighs and groin.

Very…annoying.

Arthur was smiling, his head on Yao's lap, his hand holding onto an A4 photo of Yao posing on top of the tree bark from last time. Around them were portfolio pictures from the beach photo shoots. Arthur was examining the results of the photo shoot that day, and was pleased with himself. He would definitely score another amazing exhibition next month. He grabbed one of Yao's hands and put it on his own chest.

"You can smile, you know." Arthur pointed out, showing the picture where Yao was smiling to the camera. "And you look better when you do."

"Really?" Yao nonchalantly answered, but was hoping that Arthur didn't notice his stomach had coiled from the friction. His hand was burning in Arthur's palm. Arthur's nose was dangerously near his belly button…

"Yeah. You look more human when you smile." Arthur smirked and watched the picture closely. "This is my favourite picture of all."

"… How long are you going to use my lap as your pillow?" Yao asked, a bit too sweetly than what he intended. Arthur chuckled and buried the back of his head even deeper into Yao's slim thighs.

"…Seriously. If you keep doing this, I cannot prepare the dinner, Arthur."

Instead of answering, Arthur gleefully smiled and closed his eyes.

"…Arthur, I need to prepare dinner for us."

"Keep talking. I like you calling me like that."

Yao rolled his eyes, but he found that he was smiling too. He initially intended to be gentle with the blonde photographer just because Arthur was sincere with his feelings. He looked so happy when Yao kissed him briefly, that afternoon. Maybe Yao could play as his lover until the six-month contract was finished, and he would really decide then. But he had never guessed that the madly-in-love Arthur would be that clingy.

So bloody clingy.

The thought made Yao scowl and smile at the same time.


"Starting from today, this will be your home,"his father's secretary spoke coldly. "You will be living with your mother. And please do not contact the main house unless it's an emergency."

Yao looked at the small room. His mother was standing beside him, her hand in his. She was smiling at the air—something she mostly did when his father's first wife was not in sight.

"This is the key and a duplicate, all bills will be paid for by your father and your allowance will be sent to this account. I will tell you how to use it later. Your school will be the public school about a fifteen-minute walk from here; I will personally bring you there tomorrow."

Yao nodded. He was seven, but he knew his place and was way more mature than a usual child. His small buildmade him look thin and smaller than his age. But his hand was grabbing his mother's hand tightly, guiding her like some type of role reversal-play. A sick joke. The secretary looked down upon the small child, feeling pity and awe at the same time. Compared to him, the first wife's (same aged) daughter was so childish and spoiled.

"What about food?" the boy, always realistic, asked.

"A catering service will be prepared."

"..How about mother's drug supply?"

"It will be supplied to you. I will personally come to take her to the psychiatrist every month."

"…Oh, I see."

"So, do you have anything else to ask?"the man asked the boy. They both knew that the only other adult in the room wasn't sane enough to understand any of the conversation. And they both understood that Yao was not a child; he was an adult trapped in a child's body.

The secretary saw the child's face forming a soft scowl.

"…Is this it? Did he finally throw us out?" Yao asked.

The secretary kept his silence. He turned his back to leave, but he caught a glimpse of tears falling down the boy's flushed cheeks.

Such a bright child, yet nobody loved him or was sane enough to protect him from all bad things in life. The boy faced the harsher part of the world earlier than most children his age. The secretary sighed. And it was the boy's seventh birthday tomorrow. The secretary felt like he was the cruellest person in the world, presenting a seven years old boy with an exile and an estranged mother to take care of as a birthday present.

What a pitiful child.


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