A/N: I spent so much time researching in order to write this chapter, folks.
I'm worn out.
But hours of research and I still do not know the date of Hiro's birthday.
I'm very worn out.
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"5…4…3…2…1! Happy New Year!" they all shouted, grinning from ear-to-ear as confetti shot out of small poppers, and noise makers roared in the oncoming twelve months with obnoxious blares. It was how every year was brought into play, and this was nothing different. Music was being played from a stereo, and Gogo and Wasabi were dancing together, laughing at their own dance moves, which were admittedly pretty questionable. Fred was raiding what was left of the snacks that had been put out, looking only concerned with eating more of Cass' delicious food. And Honey Lemon was standing off to the side, her hands clasped behind her back as she took to just watching what was happening across the room.
Tadashi was sitting on the couch, his smile starting to wilt just slightly now that the countdown had passed. It didn't go away entirely, but all the same, it was a little bit deflated in comparison. He was watching the television, and the New Year's Celebration that was still going on. It wasn't much— it was just the same old celebrities singing the same old songs that had been played over and over before. But he watched it all the same, finding interest in what he used to make fun of before.
Aunt Cass was making drinks of sparkling grape juice for the kids. She was vehemently opposed to even offering them any sort of alcoholic beverages, despite the fact that it would only be a small cup, and most of them were almost eligible to drink legally now anyways. But nobody was willing to try and tease her over it— not when she had been in such a good mood the entire night. Even now, she was grinning as she handed out the glasses. She took her own cup, which was filled with champagne, and she turned to go and sit down beside Tadashi.
Her nephew glanced at her as she sat, regaining his smile immediately as he realized that she was there. "Happy New Year, Aunt Cass," he said warmly. She grinned and leaned over, reaching out to draw him into a tight hug. Juggling his new glass of grape juice, he returned the gesture tightly, and Honey Lemon's smile turned a little sad at the exchange from where she stood. Tadashi pulled back and raised his eyebrows a little bit, his expression turning a bit anxious. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice dropping into a low murmur.
Aunt Cass leaned back as well, and offered him a gentle smile. Her eyes seemed a bit watery, but when she replied, she managed to keep her voice steady enough. The expression wavered, but she kept it all the same, resolving herself to it. "Yeah," she replied, nodding once. "I'm fine." Tadashi seemed a little dubious, but it was mostly out of worry and concern for her, rather than distrust. He still remembered the way that she had held herself on Christmas, and how strung-out she had been. It was hard to ignore someone's absence; but it was even worse when there was a holiday or a big event, when you could do nothing but notice the gaping hole beside you.
"You sure?" he asked gently. He knew that he probably shouldn't push or pry; he would probably just make everything worse by digging further into her and what was going on. But he was too worried to take her word for it that she was getting by. He had to know. He cared too much for her to just disregard whatever she might truly be feeling.
Aunt Cass just offered another nod, turning and taking a small sip of her champagne. She considered her reply for a few moments before offering another smile, albeit pinched. "It's a new year," she reminded him. "I think…this one will be even better than the last." It would have to be, wouldn't it? There wasn't much more they could handle; if it got even worse, they would both be pretty hung out to dry. In laymen's terms, that was. "I think…things will start to look up from here on out."
Tadashi softened, and a grin spread across his face. "Yeah," he said, his voice turning a little brighter with the hope. "Of course! It'll all turn out! I know it will." He leaned over and squeezed her hand reassuringly, where it was resting on her lap. She turned and looked at him, a grateful smile gracing her features. He nodded firmly in return, not allowing any space for doubt or hesitation. "We'll find him. He'll be home this year. Very soon."
She welled up. In a rush, his gaurdian leaned over and wrapped him in a tight hug for a second time, now refusing to let go. Tadashi returned the embrace just as hard. When Aunt Cass moved to speak, her voice was a little bit more congested and choked. Yet despite the fact that there was a bit of sorrow in her tone, each syllable radiated with happiness as well. "You are so special to me," she gushed, her voice soft. "I love you very much; you're my special little guy, and you always will be. I want you to know that, okay? And don't you ever forget it."
He smiled, and tightened his grip even more. "I won't forget," he reassured. "I could never forget." There was another small hesitation before he added a little softer: "And neither could Hiro, Aunt Cass. He knows too. I know he does."
Tadashi couldn't see Aunt Cass' reaction, but he did hear her sniff as he brought this up. Her shoulders shook a little bit, and it was clear that Tadashi had struck a chord. But her reply was just as bracing. "I know," she cried. "I know he does. I know." She held tight to Tadashi and clearly had no intention of offering a release. Because that was how it was now; she was too scared to let go of Tadashi, just in case he too was ripped away from her.
But Tadashi was more than willing to stay here like this, if only to help alleviate her pain.
It was better way to think, instead of facing the fact that he was just as scared of losing her as well.
(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)
Time is relative.
Not in the whole sense that it is man-made and really shouldn't exist, no. That was just for people to think about at four in the morning when they were much too tired to focus on things that were actually sane. But this line of thought was true in the sense that it was never consistent. It never felt the same. When a student was in an hour that they hated – in Hiro's case, it was hands-down a band class – it dragged like a sloth. A minute felt like a year, and every fervent glance towards the clock was only met with disappointment at the fact that the second hand only moved an inch.
When that same student was on Spring Break, however, time was the complete opposite. It flew by so quickly, that in two seconds, they were back in a chair, watching a dull lecture over the intricacies of melodic minor scales. It had been two weeks of ice cream and rain and activities, and Netflix. A majority of time spent on the latter, if it was in the case of someone like Hiro. But still. Two whole weeks, and it was all gone in an instant. Before someone could even really pause to drink it all in, the time had slipped through their fingers like sand.
And yet when they were back in class, they couldn't manage to shake it free. It clung to them and it refused to be lost. Time acted as quicksand, pulling them down and enclosing them in its harsh clutches. Hiro remembered instances when time had been quick. When he had passed an entire day with Tadashi that had seemed like mere minutes. When Aunt Cass had taken them both on vacation for two weeks and by the end of it, it felt like they had just gotten off the plane. Time used to fly by. One moment was here, and then it had sped away.
It wasn't like that anymore. He was in the sucking confines of it, now. Every day was like ten years, and the sheer frustration that was building on top of him made it feel like he was close to screeching at the top of his lungs for as long as humanly possible. He was angry, he was irritated, he was terrified, and he was just so sad. There were a million other emotions, yet none of them didn't help make things go any faster.
It all dragged.
New Year's came and went.
January went soon after.
February followed suit.
March and April, too.
Then May.
The months crawled by, each day a slow twist of the knife seated in Hiro's heart.
He couldn't do anything to stop it.
He could only take the pain and struggle against it, however much it hurt.
And, God…did it hurt.
(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)
"Do you hear that?" she demanded, her voice spiking now with irritation. It was the fifth time she had asked, and by now, both of them were getting annoyed. She was pacing from side to side, her eyes narrowing as she turned and looked out the window.
Her husband huffed, having the stifle the urge to groan as he looked up from his dinner. "Stacy, sit down," he stressed, looking down and stabbing at his dinner with his fork. "I told you— I can't hear anything. I haven't heard anything for the past hour. Please just give it up. I grilled this steak for us, and I would kind of prefer it if it was eaten." When the woman still stood by the window, he reluctantly pushed back from the table. He turned and walked over to her, his voice adopting a gentler tone as he put a hand on her shoulder. "Look, are you going to relax?"
Stacy shook her head, reaching up and rubbing at her forehead. "I heard something," she snapped, ignoring her husband's small sigh of disappointment. "I keep hearing it. It's like…" She bit her lip and shook her head. "It's like a scream." She turned, looking at him with an expression that was slowly evolving something akin to fright. "We should call the police, Tony," she urged. Again, she had to ignore the look of frustration on his face. It was like he was looking at a kid that wouldn't stop begging for candy. "Maybe it could be something that's—"
"We're not calling the police," he huffed, shaking his head. When she looked as if she was about to retort, he went on, his voice raising in volume to talk over her. "I can't hear anything! And I've been here this whole time! We're not calling the police so they can wander around trying to find a noise. That just wastes time and money on their part. It's summer, Stacy; teenagers and kids are running around out there, causing all sorts of trouble. They're probably just down at the playground doing something stupid. Now can you please get away from the window and eat? We were having such a good night before this started. We were in the pool, I was grilling…" He offered her a grin, reaching over again to hold her in his arms, which she sighed at. "C'mon. Step away from the window," he pushed.
Stacy still seemed a little unsure. She frowned, turning and looking up at him. He grinned and leaned down to give her a peck on the lips. For a second or more, she smiled, and it looked as if she was about to cave and give in. However, shortly after her husband started to grin again, she said quietly: "Just one call."
He sighed, letting go of her. She spun around, looking apologetic now, but sticking to her guns. "Please? I'll take the blame for it all if nothing turns up. But I've heard that sound four times now. It sounds like someone screaming."
He still looked at her blandly. She straightened and crossed her arms. Her voice was harder when she delcared: "I'm not eating until we call."
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Stacy stood at her front door, looking anxious as she waited, biting down on her lower lip. Tony was standing a little off to the side, his hands on his hips as he looked from her to the officer, who was slowly coming back down to their endo of the street. Stacy perked at the policeman's return, her eyes lighting up immediately. She stepped away from the entryway and started to move forward to meet him in the middle. Tony grumbled underneath his breath and rolled his eyes, but he followed suit anyway.
"Did you find anything?" Stacy asked, her eyes wide.
The officer stopped once he had met them halfway, the trio now standing in the middle of the street. He sighed and reached up to adjust his hat. "Right…" He turned, glancing back in the direction that he had come— in the direction that Stacy had pointed him down when he'd first gotten there. "You said that that was where the yelling was coming from?" he clarified.
"Y-Yes," she said, anxious. "It sounded like screaming. Just— every so often. It lasted for about an hour. Did you…did you find something? Someone?"
The officer shook his head, and she deflated, disappointment and confusion clouding her gaze. "Nothing," he said. "It's completely silent." When he turned back to her, she realized that he had the nerve to look slightly annoyed. "Look— we encourage citizens of San Franksokyo to reach out to the police whenever they feel the need to. But next time you call, please make sure you know exactly where this noise is coming from. Otherwise there's not a point in my being here."
Stacy wilted. She looked down at the ground, her eyebrows pulling together.
Tony stuffed his hands into the pockets of his shorts. He turned and smiled regretfully at the man. "Sorry about that," he said, sounding uneasy. "I tried to tell her to calm down. But she just wouldn't listen." His wife shot him a harsh glare, but he just tried to go on as best he could. "I'm sorry for having you come all the way out here. I hope you have a good rest of your night."
The officer nodded. He turned and started to walk away. Stacy jerked, looking up suddenly now as she demanded: "What about that boy?" The officer paused, looking over his shoulder at the sudden question. She could feel Tony look at her sharply, warning her to drop it, but she dismissed it before it could bother her too much. "There's a— there's a boy who's been missing. Right? Have you found him yet?"
"That boy's been missing for seven months now," the officer said. She soured at the tone of his voice. "And I'm sorry, but if you don't know where the noise is coming from, we really can't do anything." Aware of her sharpened gaze, he sighed and turned to relent, rather than berate. "Look, just keep an ear out, alright? If you hear the yelling again, you can call us back; after you pinpoint its location. I can't just go around and barge down doors. I haven't even heard anything, and I've been walking around for fifteen minutes now."
She tried to think of something more she could use to drive in her point. But there was no use anymore— she knew that there wasn't anything she could say to change it. So she took to nodding instead. The officer said goodnight to both of them before turning and starting back to his car. The other two stayed where they were, both of them silent. And they stayed this way until the cop car pulled away and vanished down the other end of the street.
Stacy kept still, her arms tucked across herself. At her side, Tony cleared his throat and straightened. He turned and started to walk away, back towards their house. Stacy didn't turn to follow him; she just stared in the direction of where the yelling seemed to have come from, looking puzzled. It was too general. There were too many houses over that way— too many places and sources it could have been from. The worried frown stayed on her face, and she tried listening for it again. But nothing penetrated the night. Not a single thing, other than the chirping of crickets.
It was completely peaceful.
"C'mon," her husband beckoned, turning and waiting for her to follow after. "Dinner's cold by now."
(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)
His injuries were…healed. Though the term was being used very loosely. Hiro was pretty sure that his leg and his back wouldn't get any better. It'd been seven months since they'd been hurt; he wasn't sure anything more could be done. His leg was much stiffer now— before, he could bend and move his leg however he wanted. It would cause him severe and agonizing pain, but it had still been feasible. Now bending and moving it was near impossible. His muscles pinched too much to allow him to push farther. And the way he held himself now made him seem like he was always on a slant, thanks to his back.
Hiro wasn't an expert on anything having to do with anatomy, but he figured that something had gone completely wrong when his bones had been forced to try and heal themselves. Partially, he came to blame himself. He was doing that a lot recently, but this time the blame was at least a little more focused. Maybe if he had tried to use his leg a bit more, not in terms of walking but in terms of exercises, his leg wouldn't have stiffened up like this. Maybe his back wouldn't have a crick in it.
So it led to this. He was trying to distract himself by walking around his room, going as far as his chain would allow and then back again only to repeat. His bad leg was like a straight line, which led him to limp awkwardly as he went. He grimaced every so often, especially after some time, once his bones began to get tired and exhausted— much sooner than they would usually have.
Nozomi was bouncing after him. She was excited at the activity; typically Hiro just took to laying on the ground, unmoving. Now he was actually up and about. Hiro looked down at her and softened, grimacing as he lowered himself to sit down to the ground. "Hey," he cooed, reaching over and ruffling her ears affectionately. Nozomi's tail wagged furiously, and she twisted around to lick at his hands in an eager fashion. "You're very awake this morning, aren't you?" he asked, adjusting his leg so that he could sit properly. He puffed, reaching up to wipe at his forehead. "I wish…I could say the same about myself." Thanks to his leg and the fact he hadn't eaten in forever, he was already sapped of whatever energy sleep had managed to give him.
Nozomi mimicked him and plopped down to sit as well. She yawned, shaking out her fur. Hiro had to stifle a small laugh. "You're so cute," he mumbled. No sooner did the phrase escape his lips, Hiro's smile began to wilt a little bit. He seemed to grow saddened instead, and he adopted a more sobered expression before leaning over and pulling the dog close. She couldn't really be termed a puppy anymore. She was much bigger now. More comforting. He rubbed her shoulder, putting his head on top of hers. "I don't know what I'd do without you," he said, his voice low. Nozomi yawned again, and he smiled weakly. "But you don't know that, do you?" He gave a bitter laugh. "You've got no idea what's going on here..."
Nozomi perked, deciding that she was through with being held tight as she wriggled out of his grip instead. Hiro complied, yet felt a sense of relief when she did not loop away. Instead she kept where she was, planting herself right in front of him. She ducked her head down a little bit, and Hiro softened. He leaned over, with a little difficulty, and planted a tender kiss on the bridge of her nose. Hiro had adopted the habit. So much so, that she had turned to expect the gesture.
Hiro only got sadder with the action, though. He frowned, surveying her closely. "…You don't deserve to be here," he mused after a while, reaching over to pat her head. Her ears flattened a bit, but she shuffled her paws, still just as pleased to be with him. Hiro shook his head. He pulled away, his expression dejected now. The boy sighed, turning to slink back to lay down by the bed, like he usually did whenever his thoughts began to get too heavy. Which was most of the time, now. Well— after the three month mark, that was.
But as he turned, his gaze was caught on the window. There was only one window in the room, and it had been boarded up by Callaghan shortly after Hiro had first gotten there. Wood had covered it from top to bottom; it made the daytime dark and the nights pitch black, considering the boards were so tight that they effectively obstructed any light. But…now it seemed brighter. Because…
One of the boards of the window was looser. The thought was like a slap in the face. Hiro pushed himself up, hobbling over with wide eyes. He reached out and grabbed the board, giving it a wriggle. Sure enough, it gave in a tad under the tug. The nail that was holding this end up wasn't as driven in as the other nails were in the other boards. Hiro felt it move, and his breath caught tightly in his throat. He turned, looking over his shoulder. But the door was still shut, and there were no footsteps. There was only Nozomi, the little dog just looking up at him questioningly, merely waiting.
Hiro turned back, hesitating for a long moment. But eventually he jerked himself into motion. He curled his hands down underneath the wood and gave it a harsh tug. He had to bite down on his lip to keep himself from crying out, his arms aching from the strain that they were suddenly put under. Sucking in a harsh breath, he pulled again, falling into the desperate rhythm of tugging and jerking as hard as he possibly could. It wasn't much— he didn't have much energy whatsoever. But he kept at it.
Eventually, the board was loose enough so that Hiro could stick something bigger underneath. He turned, panicking now as time suddenly seemed to be slipping away fast instead. His eyes landed on one of Abigail's old trophies— something for science achievement. It was tall and hard. It would work better than his arms could, if he gave it the right leverage, as long as it was as tough as it looked. Turning, he staggered over to grab up from the shelf, retracing his steps to the window and biting down on the inside of his cheek to keep his noises of pain bottled back.
He turned and stuck the trophy up into the gap between the wood. He made sure that it was firmly there, before he pulled back to shove down on other the end of the award, using it as a makeshift crowbar. Unsurprisingly, it dented and creaked; but it was still good enough to suffice for the job. The trophy popped out, and the nail on this side of the board did the same. Hiro fell to the side, unprepared for the sudden accomplishment. The prize fell down to the floor, and Hiro grimaced at the small thud it created.
He turned, twisting the board down and pushing aside the curtain that was underneath. His eyes were bigger than the moon as a small slit of the window was revealed. He'd only looked out the window once, the entire time he'd been here— seven whole months, and he'd seen outside just one fleeting time. And that was only for a few seconds, before he had been thrown mercilessly to the ground. It was enough to completely floor him for a few moments. It was twilight outside, the sky a soft pink and the sun a dull orange as it was on its descent. There was a street to the side of him— the one that was right in front of the house. There were other houses around here too! Other houses – other lives – that were going on right around this situation! How was it possible!? How were people so dense!?
Hiro turned quickly to look down at Nozomi, who was still watching him. He smiled, the grin wide and excited on his face now. "Nozomi, do you want to get out?" he asked, his voice coming out hushed and eager. Nozomi perked at once, jumping up to her feet at the mere tone of his voice. Her ears shot up and she let out a bark, which Hiro immediately regretted evoking. He shook his head. "Shhh, shhh— Nozomi, don't," he whispered.
The dog tilted her head to the side, looking concerned at the emotion shift.
Hiro disregarded it. He'd apologize to her later. He turned and leaned down with another grimace, his leg stuck out awkwardly in order for him to reach the floor. He picked up the trophy again and casted another worried look twoards the door. But it was still shut, and there were no footsteps. Yet. Hiro was concerned by the lack of reaction; usually Callaghan was able to tell whether or not Hiro even breathed incorrectly. Was there a reason that wasn't he up here yet?
He shook it off, telling himself that this just meant that he had more time. The teenager looked back to the window and clenched the trophy and little bit tighter in his hand. He hesitated, too afraid to move for a second. Once he did this, there was no going back…right? If he was caught, he had no idea what kind of consequence he would get. What would Callaghan do? Hiro frowned and looked back down at Nozomi. The dog hopped over to nose at his good leg, as if to tell him that she was getting bored. His eyes narrowed a little bit. He had to get out of here— by any means necessary. No matter what happened. It had been seven months. He had to get out.
He resolved himself and acted before he could go back on it. He clenched the trophy hard in one hand, and held the curtain of the window aside with the other. He reared his arm back and proceeded to throw it forward as hard as he could. The trophy shattered the window on impact, and Hiro cringed from the noise, and the pain, as some glass punctured down into his skin. This time he could not hold back his yelp of pain, and he found that his grip on the trophy went lax in shock. It fell out of his hand and down to the grass below.
He staggered away, looking down and holding his arm tightly. There weren't a lot of scratches, but glass tended to draw a lot of blood anyway. His lower lip trembled a little bit, and his eyes teared up at the pain that itched down into his skin. He ducked, biting down and breathing heavily to try and ease off the pain. Nozomi fell into a series of barks, alarmed at the noises and Hiro's reaction. She weaved tight circles around him, yipping and chirping in confusion.
He shook his head, leaning down and scooping her up. "Shut up, shut up, Nozomi!" he hissed, whispering in a way that was more just hushed screaming. "You've got to be quiet!" The blood from his arm was getting into Nozomi's white fur, staining it. He pushed the fact aside, turning back to the window to jerk aside the curtain. He couldn't fit through, and the fall would probably injure him even more than he already was, if such a thing. So he just resorted to the next best thing. "Help!" he yelled out, suddenly thinking that it was a better idea to write a note and throw it out. It might get blown aside by the wind, but maybe it would end up in the hands of someone? Maybe it wouldn't end up in a sewer somewhere?
Wait! Were those footsteps!?
It was so nice outside! So refreshing to breathe in air that wasn't pushed through a machine! His heart tore and split in pain, and he screamed out even louder: "It's Ca—!"
He was jerked back harshly by his collar. He yelped as he was pulled backwards, nearly ripping his other arm open on a jutting shard of glass in the process of his stumble. He had no time at all to try and recover, before he was thrown down to the ground. Nozomi tumbled to the side, rolling out of the boy's arms with a sharp squeak. Hiro blinked rapidly as his head spun. He twisted and started to push himself up, looking up to see Callaghan, his face twisted in anger. Hiro's breathing went haywire in panic as the man turned, yanking the curtain back in a too-harsh manner.
"P-Please don't!" Hiro gasped already, hyperventilating as he started to scramble up to his feet . "I-I was only trying to—" He wasn't able to finish. Callaghan whirled around and punched him square in the jaw, causing Hiro to fly back down to the ground with a heavy thud. His face split in agony, and he groaned, fighting back tears as he curled into himself with a flinch.
Nozomi immediately began to bark again, rushing over to Callaghan as if to do something, despite her comparitive size. But Callaghan wasn't in the mood. Hiro watched in horror as Callaghan kicked the dog with enough force for her to be thrown back into the corner. She fell into a heap, and did not get up. Hiro let out a cry, starting to scramble up to run to her. She wasn't moving! Was she okay!? She had to be! But he was only halfway up before he was grabbed again, and pulled harshly to his feet.
He was wrenched around, so that he was forced to look up at Callaghan. The man looked more than absolutely furious. He pulled Hiro close, so that they were nose-to-nose. Hiro's body broke into tremors, and his breathing was reduced down to frantic wheezes. Callaghan glared holes through him. "What were you doing?" he spat, Hiro cringing with a barely-restrained shriek. Callaghan jerked him back and forth, hard enough to make his brain rattle and jar. The child was winded and too scrambled to do anything by the time Callaghan was through. "Never do that!" Callaghan snarled, Hiro struggling back into coherence. "We are together. Don't you dare try and ruin this!"
Hiro was crying. He swallowed hard and struggled to get words out above a whisper. But a low murmur was all he could manage. His voice trembled like a leaf in the wind, and he tried to look back over to Nozomi. "Did you…please tell me that she's oka—" His plea ended in a sob of pain as Callaghan shook him again. His head was spinning, and he grimaced as he was left to fight back a gag of nausea.
Callaghan's voice became more urgent, more hurt. His eyes went wide, and he looked hard at the boy, who was still struggling to figure up from down. "Don't you see what you almost did, Hiro?" he pressed wearily. "Where will you go!? Your family doesn't care about you— you know that by now." Hiro closed his eyes, a pathetic sob bursting from his chest. "I'm the only person that loves you, Hiro! I'm the only person here for you! How stupid are you to try and leave!? Back to where you're completely worthless!? Here is the only place for you to be! This is the only place you can mean anything! With me!"
Hiro tried to duck away, his shoulders shaking as tears ran down his face.
Callaghan shook him again. And again, his head reeled. "Don't you know that!?"
He cringed. His voice came out in a pitiful whine. "I…I just want to go home…" he whimpered shakily. Immediately, he saw that Callaghan only clouded over in more anger. Wasn't there anything he could say to fix it!? Hastily, in a panic, he raised his voice into another yell. "Please! I just want to—!" He couldn't finish the scream. Before he could, Callaghan pushed him as hard as he could manage, Hiro thrown backwards off his feet. He tried to catch himself, but he couldn't move in enough time.
He fell. He hit the wooden frame of the bed, the back of his head cracking a dull thump on the board. He experienced an absolute wave of agony— one that spread from the back of his head and sliced through all the way to the backs of his eyes. But he wasn't able to let out that scream that burst up his throat in reaction to the blow. Because as soon as his head cracked, his knees buckled, and he collapsed. He didn't even twitch in pain upon impact.
He hit the ground limply, and the back of his head began to feel warm.
He fell unconscious immediately.
Everything went black.
(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)
He did it on purpose. Everything was on purpose. Every blow, every hit, they had all been for a reason. Hiro hadn't thought anything of it; not beyond the fact that it just hurt. But he should have. He should have realized what Callaghan was doing. He should have realized that every blow was administered directly to his head. That headaches, and even migraines, were commonplace ever since he had first gotten here.
Callaghan had done this on purpose.
When Hiro woke up again, what he saw didn't make any sense. Everything looked distorted and warped— the world seemed suddenly fuzzy and awkward. Colors melted and blended into one another, combining into a mismatch of nothing. He couldn't see anything distinctly. It was a complete haze. It had taken less than five seconds for him to begin hyperventilating, panic rearing its head as he went as stiff as a board. He'd twisted, pulling his hands up in front of his face, a whimper escaping his lips as he realized that the edges of his fingers seemed to shiver and shake into nothing. There was no permanent outline that kept it from seeping into whatever was in the background.
His vision…
He couldn't…he couldn't see.
A strangled scream of fear had been wrenched from him. His body had immediately broken out into shakes, and he'd dissolved into a fit of sobs as he moved his arms sluggishly back and forth in front of his eyes, trying to get some discernment. He looked up, across the room to see a white blob. The smudge of color had jumped up, getting closer and bigger; it wasn't until the shape was about a yard away from him was he able to make out the pointed ears and finite details of Nozomi. She tilted her head to the side, looking confused at his apparent horror.
Callaghan turned, instantly snapping to attention at Hiro's panicked crying. He had been putting the board Hiro had moved back into place, and making sure that the rest weren't about to budge any time soon. They were all now firmly in place. He dropped the hammer to the ground, rushing over to Hiro, who was slowly falling deeper and deeper into shock. The man crouched down, grabbing onto the boy and shifting him over so that he was on his back.
Hiro was gasping for air, and the efforts weren't helped as he was forced to look up at Callaghan again. His expression was wrought with absolute shock and panic. He shoulders heaved unevenly, and he reached back to press his left hand against the back of his head. It came away red; even he could see that much. His head was bleeding. "My—" He grimaced, fighting back a screech at the pain that came from just moving his jaw. His body went into a sharp spasm, and he choked.
Callaghan shushed him gently, like someone would do to a baby. He wrapped his arms tighter around Hiro, who tried to jerk away unsuccessfully. "What's wrong?" Callaghan soothed, dragging his hand down Hiro's face repeatedly in what was probably supposed to be a comforting gesture. But it only made the teenager even worse, his breathing going out the window completely as he started to gag on his own air. "Hiro, you've got to calm down!" Callaghan urged. "What's wrong?"
What's wrong!?
WHAT'S WRONG!?
"I can't see!" Hiro shrieked, blanching with alarm at the smeared and sloppy images that met him. When Callaghan didn't even seem to react at first – though Hiro wouldn't be able to tell, with his vision – he only repeated the words, in a higher pitch of desperation. "My eyes— I can't see anything clearly!" His expression crumbled, and tears welled down his cheeks. "I can't see, I can't see, I can't see!" he wailed. Without thinking, he pleaded: "Help me! My head— I can't—"
Callaghan still did not reply audibly.
But he did allow a slow smile to spread across his face.
(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)
He couldn't go anywhere. Obviously. He took a test on an app. Apparently that was a thing now. Hiro was given Robert's phone and Callaghan watched right over Hiro's shoulder, making sure he did not use the device for anything other than the test, holding tight to his other hand in the effort to stagnate the possible action even further. But it wasn't like Hiro was planning on doing anything more. It felt like needles were being driven through his skull, and he could feel the matted blood that was thick on the back of his head. In the half hour or so it had taken for Callaghan to 'calm' him down and get the test prepared and downloaded properly, Hiro had thrown up twice. He felt awful. Like he was dying.
He took the perscription test without a single attempt at complaining. He knew better than to. And in any other situation, he would have been impressed with the ability of modern-day phones. He had no idea that there was anything like this. But obviously, his mind was not focused on the evolvement of current store-bought apps. Callaghan had gone out to buy a viewfinder so that this could be pulled off— something that costed like two bucks, going by his report. He had attached this to his phone screen, and Hiro was instructed to look inside.
A pattern showed up after the app was opened. Hiro was supposed to look through the lens and bring the image closer and closer, until it was focused enough for him to tell what it was. He struggled to align the pattern until he could see it properly. Then he had to repeat it about three more times. It took him a while to get them all right. He couldn't hold himself back from growling or scowling in irritation or frustration. After so many blows to the head, he had figured that it was inevitable to have something like this happen.
But he didn't think so quickly…and he didn't think so bad…so soon…
By the end it spit out some prescription.
Hiro just stared down at it dully, his expression numb. He didn't react to it, because he had no idea what the numbers meant. He'd never encountered a perscription before.
But Robert had. Callaghan had taken it without a single pause. He'd turned and left without a word, still with that same grin on his face.
Hiro waited for him to leave, cringing sharply against the slam of the door on Robert's way out. Nozomi was sitting off to the side, and once Robert left she got up and pranced back over, pushing her head against Hiro's side almost reassuringly. He turned, rubbing his hand across her head. Petting her, he squinted his eyes and leaned closer, bringing into focus the spots of his blood that were marring her white fur.
He grimaced in pain, sniffing hard as he felt tears sting at his eyes. Wearily, he shook his head and pulled her close to his chest. "I'm sorry," he whispered, gathering her into his arms and laughing weakly as she twisted around to lick his face. "I'm sorry for all of this," he whimpered. The words passed his lips, and he tried to find some comfort in his own offer of solace. But he knew that she didn't understand; at the most, she was just confused at today's wild events. But he kept trying anyway, ducking his head down and pressing it into her fur. "I really am. I'm so sorry…"
He didn't expect to feel anything in response to his efforts.
Because he knew that he really just wanted someone to say those same things to him.
(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)
Callaghan had come back later that night.
He handed Hiro a small, angular case.
Hiro took it, and opened it up to see black, thick-framed glasses.
Callaghan was still smiling from ear-to-ear. When Hiro did not move, he pressed quickly: "Go on! Put them on! They should help!" Hiro closed his eyes tightly and bit down on his lower lip. But he complied. With slow movements, he put down the box, taking out the eyeglasses and pushing them on his face, flinching at the pain that was inflicted just by their light weight on his head. His bangs, longer now, drooped in the way of his eyes a bit as he looked up.
But he realized with a sickening feeling that things clicked again, through the filter of the lenses. Colors were once again confined to tangible objects, not smearing and bleeding across the room. And when he lifted his hands up in front of his face, each finger was defined and outlined as they should be. There was still pain in his head, of course. And he still squinted blearily— even though there wasn't a lot of light in the room, it still seemed to be enough for Hiro to cringe away from. The pressure that the frames put on his head was enough to make him want to vomit again, and as his stomach fell away from him, he was worried that he might.
He leaned back against the bed to try and stave off the feeling, closing his eyes to try and steady himself. Callaghan pulled out his phone, and when Hiro perked again, he was only met with a bright flash of light that took his breath away. The boy yelped, flinching harshly. But Callaghan just smiled, reaching out and displaying the photo that he had taken. "Look!" he encouraged. Hiro frowned, leaning back against the bed again with a nauseated wince. "You look just like her now!"
He blinked slowly, and tried to find a discrepancy.
There was none.
He stared at the picture, now able to see it clearer with the glasses on. The photo had been taken as a close-up. And Hiro was reminded of the ornament of Abigail that had been on the Christmas tree so long ago. The only difference was that rather than smiling cutely at the camera like she had been, Hiro was flinching away. He was sick and pale and small-looking. But he still had on some flannel shirt, and he still had that same – albeit longer – hair that hid his forehead in swooped bangs. And now…he had these black glasses to match.
It almost took his attention away from the blood he could see crusted blood on the side of his neck.
Callaghan beamed. "You see?" he pushed brightly. "This is why you can't try to leave!" Though his words were forceful and passionate, they were hushed, as if he was too excited to speak above a murmur. "You're too much like her, Hiro!" Hiro sighed heavily and did not reply. Callaghan inched closer, his eyes suddenly way too bright as he grabbed hold of the child's arm. He gave a hasty nod. "You were meant to be here. With me. We were meant to be together!" There was a long stretch of silence before Callaghan grabbed his chin, jerking his head so that he could meet his gaze, the boy having to choke back a scream of agony.
"Do you understand, yet, Hiro? I thought you would have by now," Callaghan said.
Hiro still kept mute, breathing heavily through his nose as he tried to stifle his growing alarm.
Callaghan still smiled lovingly. But his voice was absolutely freezing as he whispered: "You're not going anywhere. You never are."
(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)
"Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday Dear Hiro! Happy Birthday to you!"
Hiro didn't like when people sang 'Happy Birthday' to him. He never did. What were you supposed to do when they sang? Smile awkwardly and stare off into space? Make eye-contact with some random person in the crowd and try to make some sort of emotional connection? What did you do with your hands? Did you smile, did you laugh? It was always a torture that he had to endure. The only comfort was that there was cake at the end of the tribulation.
He'd always hated it before. But that was nothing in comparison to how much he hated this.
He had been forced to walk downstairs, and he had been forced to sit down in the chair at the dining table he had sat in twice before— both of those situations turning out horribly awful. His leg and back were aching from the stairs, and his head was still throbbing in deep pain, like it had been ever since he'd cracked it on the bed two weeks ago. He hadn't even gotten to clean the blood off of him yet. Or at least properly.
June 28th. That was apparently the date. Not of his birthday— God, no. But it was Abigail's. So now it was his, apparently.
The cake was set out in front of him, and he watched the single candle flicker dully. It was a cake that was far too big for Hiro to even make a dent in, considering that his stomach felt as though it was being squeezed and pulled every which way. Just looking at it made him want to vomit, which he was doing more and more of nowadays anyway. He swallowed thickly and blinked once Callaghan was through singing. The man smiled broadly and looked from him to the candle. "Go on!" he said brightly, ecstatic with happiness. "Blow out the candle! Make a wish!"
Hiro noticed that all the windows were drawn tight with curtains.
Not that it mattered anymore.
He reached up and adjusted his glasses so they wouldn't fall off, fighting a scowl with the motion. He took the route of obedience and leaned forward, sucking in a breath and releasing it in a blow just strong enough to make the flame blink out. His wish was pretty much obvious. Standing down below, right beside his chair, Nozomi yipped, hopping from one paw to the other. Carefree, she seemed to have forgotten the scene two weeks ago where she had been kicked aside. Hiro wished he could do the same. But he wasn't as fortunate.
"What was your wish?" Robert pushed, his eyes bright as he raised his eyebrows.
Hiro continued to stare off into space— through the cake, rather than at it. His voice was monotone when he replied, and without much agonizing over it all, he rasped: "I don't have one." He blinked and tuned, looking up at Callaghan and noticing with a pang of relief that he seemed overjoyed. Right then. Hiro had made the correct move. Of course, Robert had taken the wish as Hiro being far too satisfied with all life had to offer to wish for anything more. Hiro really just meant that there was no use in saying what he wanted out loud.
His eyesight was already ruined. What else could happen from this point on?
He wasn't really keen on pushing it.
He wanted to get out of here…of course he did…but…
"Well!" Callaghan perked, still absolutely ecstatic. "It's your very special day! I've got a gift for you! Don't think I've forgotten! I know you'll love it!" Hiro smiled weakly; the expression was painful to fake— he wondered what it was like to look at. But thankfully Callaghan didn't seem to notice it, just like he never noticed anything. Callaghan leaned a bit closer, reaching out to poke at his nose affectionately. "Because I want you to know how happy you make me. And how much I love you, hm?"
He couldn't keep the smile on his face now. But it was enough that he didn't get sick on the spot.
Hiro just nodded again.
Callaghan laughed. "But first! We cannot forget the cake! Let's have some of that before gifts, huh? We can get some cake, and then you can open some presents! You only turn fifteen once, Hiro! I'm not about to let you go uncelebrated!" He ruffled Hiro's hair, and he had to bite down on his tongue to keep from screaming. He was lucky he just kept the noise down to a small whine. Again, Robert was oblivious. "So let's cut the cake!"
He turned and started into the kitchen. Hiro wilted, his lower lip trembling as he caught sight of the gun sitting right in Callaghan's back pocket. He had it ready, considering Hiro had been brought down here again. The child's stomach twisted and he looked back at the cake instead, trying not to dwell on it. He reached over and dragged a finger through a little bit of the icing to take a taste. Sure enough, he couldn't even feel the slightest bit satisfied with the tang of thick sugar. He felt disgusted. His upper lip twitched, and he drew away from the cake in a resigned matter.
He never thought that he would be so appalled at the taste of icing.
Callaghan came back with a knife, bright-eyed and ready to cut into the pastry. "Alright!" he cheered, going over and starting to position it properly. "How big of a piece would you like, Hiro? A big one? Medium?" When Hiro just blinked and didn't reply, he dissolved into a bit of laughter. "You can't have a small piece on your birthday! Certainly not! Especially us! We're celebrating our being together tonight too! Not just a birthday!"
Hiro sighed through his nose. He opened his mouth and reluctantly started to reply. "I just want—"
He couldn't finish before the phone rang, cutting through his speech abruptly. He fell silent, a little surprised as he turned to the noise. The phone didn't ring a lot here. He certainly hadn't been expecting it, especially now. Callaghan seemed to share the same opinion. The man's face fell slightly, and his eyebrows knitted a little bit in bemusement. "Hm. That's odd," he said. Nevertheless, he put the knife down and offered Hiro a smile. "I'll be right back, then. Don't move."
He started over into the living room, turning his back to Hiro.
Again, the boy's eyes were drawn down to the gun in Robert's pocket.
Callaghan was so confident with the weapon in his stride, that he was willing to leave Hiro alone.
Hiro bit down on his lower lip, his heart immediately picking up. He turned in his seat to look towards the door, down in the hall. He felt a tug in his gut, and he looked quickly from the door to Callaghan. Then he looked down at Nozomi, who was peacefully sitting by, almost bored. Callaghan had picked up the phone by now, and Hiro listened tensely to the one-sided conversation. "Hello? …Well, no, I'm not doing much, but I can't talk for very long. …I've got a special day to celebrate. …No, not mine. How can I help you?"
Should Hiro scream? Would they hear on the other line? It differed sometimes.
"That's…that's next weekend?"
Maybe Hiro could just make a break for the door again. But what if it was locked? He couldn't undo a lock and hold Nozomi at the same time; he was too weak. Could he trust Nozomi to run after him!? He wasn't about to leave her behind! But even if he did run, he'd proven himself to be no match for anything with his leg the way it was. A turtle could chase him down! Maybe if he just banged on the door he might be able to get someone's attention? But he'd tried that before! It was seven months ago, soon to be eight, but…
"Is there any way that somebody else could host it? The house is a complete mess."
He had to do something!
"I know I made a commitment. And I know its tradition. I just…"
Hiro's eyes landed on the knife. Behind his glasses, they grew to be ten times their regular size.
He glanced back at Robert.
Could…could he…?
"Alright. No, I know," Callaghan sighed. "I've got it planned— don't worry. I've just been busy recently. You know me, I'll get it all organized. You can all come over then. I'll get the times out to everyone." There was a small pause and he nodded, clearing his throat. "Alright, then. I'll get back to you." Another brief pause, then: "Goodbye." Robert hung up the phone and sighed, hesitating long enough to run a hand through his hair and shake his head. His expression seemed a bit less excited than it did two minutes ago. But nevertheless, he brightened at the prospect of returning to Hiro. And he turned again, itching to return.
He stopped short immediately, though.
Hiro was standing, having gotten up from his chair. Nozomi was sniffing at his leg, her tail wagging earnestly as she vied for the boy's attention. But Hiro wasn't even aware— he wasn't paying mind at all. Instead, he was glaring tensely across at Callaghan, the look of defiance on his face thinly covering up the absolute terror that was underneath. He locked his jaw backwards, staggering a little bit as he held out his arms stiffly in front of him. The knife was trembling ever so slightly as it was aimed threateningly over to his kidnapper.
For a second, nobody did anything. The only sound was Hiro's harsh breathing.
Callaghan's eyes narrowed. After a second he growled out slowly: "Sit back down, Hiro."
The boy was acutely aware of the fact that the other was starting to reach back to his pocket.
Hiro's knuckles were white with the effort of holding the knife so that it wouldn't fall. His shaking hands weren't helping him at all. "Don't!" he stuttered. He took in a harsh breath and tried to keep his voice level. "I'm leaving," he forced out. "I'm leaving; you've got to let me go. You've—" He broke off, cringing as Robert whipped out the gun, the barrel staring Hiro down for a second time. Hiro glanced down at Nozomi, who tilted her head to the side, puzzled. He swallowed thickly and closed his eyes, reverting to a different tactic.
"You won't…you won't hurt me," he said, dragging his gaze back to Callaghan as his stomach seized. He didn't believe in the words whatsoever. But he noticed Robert's expression fall just slightly, and he struggled to push on. He shook his head, desperate and earnest as he looked at the man across from him. Could he pull this off? He clenched the knife tighter. "You won't hurt me. You won't…you won't shoot me," he pressed shakily. "Because you love me."
Robert took a step closer, realigning the gun. Hiro winced. "I do love you," Callaghan said, his voice short. "Which is why I won't let you leave. You are mine. You always will be." Hiro bit down on his lower lip and stifled a whimper. "Now sit back down, Hiro. Or you're going to make me do something I'll regret."
"You love me," Hiro reiterated, his shaking only getting worse.
Hiro couldn't kill Robert. He wasn't strong enough. He couldn't outrun a gun. And…well, he just couldn't kill anyone! Not even him!
He felt like he was going to be sick again.
His eyes flickered back down to Nozomi. The dog looked brightly back at him.
The trembling boy looked back at Callaghan and sucked in a breath before: "Please just let me go. It's gone on long enough." He grimaced. "If you really loved me and wanted me to be happy, you would let me go. You would give me what I want."
Robert scowled. He paced closer, and Hiro scuttled backwards immediately. "You will be happy. Here." His words were radiating with anger now. The small slip in his expression was gone completely. Now Hiro had no comfort that might let him know that he could have a chance. "You're going to put down the knife, Hiro," Callaghan spat, getting even closer. Now Nozomi seemed to grow worried, looking from one to the other now. One brandishing a gun, and the other struggling to keep a firm hold on the knife through his tremors. Callaghan raised his voice into a snap. "Hiro! Put the knife down! You have no idea of what I'm capable of!"
"And you have no idea of what I'm capable of!" Hiro yelled, the words bursting out of his mouth before he could stop them.
"You're not capable of anything without me," he snarled. "Now. Sit. Down."
"No," Hiro sobbed, ducking his head. "You've got to let me go. Now."
"I will kill them." Hiro went rigid at the undisguised threat. His eyes snapped open and his pupils blew out in terror. Callaghan, knowing he struck a nerve, went on. "I'll kill your aunt. Your brother. It won't be hard. And it'll be entirely your fault." Hiro bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep himself from crumbling. It was all he could do to keep where he was, the knife jutting out. "So sit down. Before you make me go down to the Lucky Cat Café and put a bullet through their heads."
He stiffened. Horror gripped his heart with enough force to choke him out. He turned and looked at Callaghan, whose face was dark and enraged. They were only a few yards away from one another now. Silence fell in between them, and Hiro exhaled, coming to a last resort. "You…you love me, don't you?" he asked, his voice quieter now.
Callaghan immediately softened, though there was a lingering trace of fury still in his face. How he could manage both expressions at the same time was beyond Hiro. "Of course I do," he said. "With every fiber of my being. You are the only thing that matters to me. The only thing. I love you more than words can possibly say." The reply was quick, as if it had already been prepared. Hiro swallowed as he wondered how many times that the mantra had been repeated in Callaghan's head. How many times he had driven himself into making this entire situation seem okay just by saying that.
Hiro steadied himself to go on. "You'll do anything to keep me safe. And here…with you," he went on.
Callaghan's reply was just as instantaneous. "Anything," he pledged.
Hiro shut his eyes tightly for the briefest of seconds. But he knew he couldn't put it off. He couldn't hesitate. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't. Because in less than five seconds, Callaghan would be close enough to jerk the knife out of his hands. This was all he had left to do. "That's…that's what I thought," Hiro whispered uneasily. "You do love me…" Callaghan began to brighten just a little bit. Hiro's captor started to lower the gun slowly, though he still kept the barrel in Hiro's general direction.
He started to reach over.
But before he could do anything, Hiro jerked down to stab himself in the right shoulder as hard as he possibly could.
Callaghan jerked backwards, his expression wiping over with shock.
Hiro shoved his left arm down, ripping open his right arm as absolute agony wrapped around his throat, making breathing and even screaming impossible. He heaved for air with no success as he staggered to the side, hitting the wall and being forced to prop himself up against it. The knife in his left hand was now covered in red, and blood was gushing profusely down his arm into droplets on the floor. It was a thick tide already, and it was only getting worse. The gash was inches wide and clumsy— Hiro forced himself not to look at the injury, the stench coming off it of already sickening him. Just looking at it when he'd done it, he had seen the muscles and the tendons being sliced through.
Wild and desperate, he started to fall, only to plunge the knife down into his already-bad leg next. He only managed to rip a gash there for a few inches before it became impossible to keep going. But the wound was deep enough; he felt his jeans soak through with blood in less than five seconds. He staggered to the side, and the knife slipped out of his grip. Blood-drenched now, with a muted thud it hit the floor, which was slowly on track to become slick with Hiro's blood.
He gave out a heart-wrenching sob that grated against his throat. He pressed his arm against his chest, blood immediately leaking through his shirt and warming the skin underneath. One eye was closed in pain, and he was three seconds away from blacking out. In the back of his mind, he was aware of Nozomi barking furiously. His head was spinning, and he felt was if all the blood was instantly draining away from his head, leaving him swaying and swooning. The child breathed heavily, sucking in harsh breath after hash breath. He couldn't get in enough air to scream, however much he wanted to.
All he could do was look up and lock eyes with Callaghan.
The man was floored, his jaw slack as he looked at Hiro in complete terror. He was frozen. Obviously, he had no idea what to do.
Hiro mustered up enough strength to shoot him a withering glare. His voice was clenched tight, coming out as a thick wheeze. "Then take me to the hospital," he snarled.
Then his eyes rolled back into his head. His legs buckled, and he collapsed with a slam to the floor.
Everything went black.
(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)
A/N: I'm sorry for cliffhangers, I really am. There was no avoiding this one. If I avoided this one, I would have gone on for eight more pages. But you guys have been awesome with reviews, so look at me, back so soon! And I'm super excited for next chapter, so that has the potential to get out super quick too! Like always, I am putting off homework to do this, so please excuse any typos, as I have to struggle super hard to get this out lol.
I hope you like this! I put in way too much effort researching head injuries and vision problems that can result, and YES that is an actual app you can buy and oh my goodness I need a life like really bad. Someone help me.
If you have any questions I'll be glad as ever to answer! If you see any glaring typos that I don't catch when I edit it sometime soon, feel free to nod towards those too! I'd love to hear what you think so far, and what you think will happen next! I'm excited to write it! ;)
See you in ten reviews!
And is it too late to admit I wrote this story because I just wanted to have Hiro with glasses and a dog…? :O