He was taken outside the ward without another word.
Paying respect to the fact that it was long after midnight where many people required their rest, there was no need to continue a discussion inside the room. Not when they were likely to break into a quarrel, even if the offense would come from one side seeing as Len hadn't half the energy to merely raise his head. The young lady made a sound against their departure, but in the end, she was in no place to do anything but swallow her voice.
They were in the empty corridor outside, the spot where the security guards didn't wander.
Yuuma pinned his shoulder against the wall before there was any chance to speak. "I knew it. I knew it'd be you."
The circles beneath his eyes said enough words about the spirit left within his body. ".. hit me if you want, it's not like it matters anymore."
"Fuck you." The older male spat.
There was something shining in her brothers gaze; unsure whether it was pride, how his guess had been corrext from the start, despite numerous attempts from few people hoping to convince him differently ー or disappointment for if he'd been able to confirm it earlier, he could have prevented this situation from going out of hand.
Len knew the latter was impossible.
Things like these don't crop out of nothing. It's something that brews for a long, long time, breaking into truth only by the very climax. It is a dam that croaks out years beneath pressure until the time comes where it nreaks.
The blond used all the strength he could muster against the grip on him, resisting for freedom. He gave one glance towards the time on his wrist, noting he had to head back down to the care unit before the nurses could find an excuse to close the doors, then fixed the collar of his jacket.
Yuuma pulled his hands away when he noticed the young man's withdrawal. "Leave."
"That's what I'm doing..."
The dark ivory carpet beneath their shoes suddenly fled of colour, seeming only a shade of grey to accentuate the walls of white. Len has no choice but to shy away his leer, for when he does not see her eyes, he does not see the world either.
"No. Leave forever." They stood a careful distance, the shorter of the two repositioning his collar while his senior in age lours menacingly, "I'm giving you a choice here. On rare occasion, as anybody else would take a look at you and take pity on how you're a child."
But if he really was a child, he wouldn't have gotten to stand on the shoes he is in today.
He wouldn't think twice to gulp down a rush of water rather than swallow down the burning soil served to him through a silver goblet.
He would've chosen the easy way out for everything.
But now his map is laid out within a maze, standing in the middle of a crossroad where each lane drives to dead ends. He doesn't know where he is going, but he heads forwards with his chin above the ground, refusing to look back. Even if every single barrier stands in front of his way, he will drive across it, no matter the risk of a heavy fall.
The light of a vending machine flickered down the aisle, causing his feet to navigate towards it.
The older boy was visibly infuriated with the way he went on his life choosing whether to press the iced coffee or hot chocolate buttons after dropping in a coin, rather than considering the dire of their situation. "I won't tell our father about your existence if you go now. Just don't come near our family ever again."
Len scoffed, finally coming to a decision. The cup fell down, waiting for a drink to pour. As if nobody else will talk about it, he mocked beneath his breath.
He's already standing knees deep within his grave, and he's well prepared to lie down in it.
/
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The young man played with the messy strands of his bangs, crossing his ankles at the sight of an unfilled form waiting in front of him. He wasn't meant to write on it ー only to deliver it to Kagamine Rin's official guardians so they would register for a birth certificate, (according to the man who'd given it to him)...
But Len found his free hand already latched onto a pen, hovering above the empty lines, thinking carefully on what to write.
Even if that girl disapproves of it, there was always the availability of a new sheet. He shouldn't feel any sort of guilt over this.
Although he does. He merely tilts his chin down, blowing through it.
The pediatrician from yesterday, the one gawking him so carefully for having his gaze landed on a baby ー watched and paved as if there were living ants in her flats. "You're of age?"
Len caused a questioning sound from the back of his throat. One that sounded a mix of a moan and an irritable hiss.
He levelled his chin, bringing it away from words on the white page and instead onto chocolate brown eyes.
He'd just finished writing the characters on the name slot and moved on to the next when Brown-Eyes finally spoke minutes after chewing the inside of her cheek. "You ought to know that anyone beneath eighteen won't be acknowledged for paternity on the birth certificate."
"What?" He dropped the pen almost as if his palm had been set on fire. It wasn't an exaggeration on his part; the surprise mixed with his lack of sleep has made his reaction to even the slightest changes become all the more restless.
She nodded, looking down at the computer by the counter and furiously scribbling on some paperwork she'd been focusing on before realising the boy's attention was still attached onto her.
She let out a soft sigh, "Are you the father?"
Len fumbled beneath the table to retrieve the fallen stationery, taking advantage of time to repel his hesitation.
When he finally came to terms with admitting to the fact, his eyes had crawled to the pattern of magenta circles across the rug, buried beneath a marble flower vase. Artificial lilies and roses stretched from pretend-soil, blending alongside the white walls.
He wouldn't say it. Instead, he closed the lids of his eyes, nodding his head with pursed lips.
"I'm assuming you're still in school?"
"Yes, but I'm graduating soon," He lied. "I'll be eighteen, so..."
"You shouldn't write on this." The woman softly drew the form from his hold, refusing to listen to any more resistance.
"But I ー" Len kept reluctant, gripping onto the edges, threatening it to rip.
"I'll have someone bring this up to ー" A pause, to read the name already printed down, ".. yes, Miss. Rin's family." She finished with a single gentle touch above his shoulder, coaxing him to lay back. "Don't you worry about it, dear.. you can stay here. Try to get a bit of shut-eye."
When he gave himself the permission to see the world once more, he saw nothing but her absence within the room.
The lack of a key card denied him further access to the opposite, so the young man decided to spend the rest of his time fixated through the glass window. He stood on the tips of his feet to catch a sight of anything more than those little, wiggling toes.
Long enough he'd fell back onto one of the waiting chairs, sitting next to a man fretting over his baby with a heart condition with his face buried in his palms.
The blond closed his eyes. His body begged himself for a nap, even if just a few minutes to regain the energy he needed.
His mind refused with his heart in chains.
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One skid over the water. Two skids. Three. Four.
But they never go more than five.
He overlooked the lake outside the building. The hospital compounds hold flowers that flock with butterflies and the names of lovers engraved on the woods of trees. They are aged, old, and the thought of it is more eerie than romantic as he runs his hands between the cracks of the wood.
His phone has long been out of battery. He leans back against the grass, fed up of throwing stones over the surface just to imagine the presence of that girl being there, then instead looking up at the dark grey skies.
It looks to be only minutes away from another storm.
He is not only thinking of the weather.
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The sound of a snack wrapper crinkling along with footsteps marked his entrance. He roamed a look over her figure, arms wound tight around herself like tangled rosethorns, hoping to get the most out of the thin blanket she had.
He dropped down on the stool beside her, finally wrestling the package open as he questioned her brother's whereabouts whilst unleashing the scent of mint biscuits within the room. She pulled a foul face when he tried to push one through her lips.
"The longer you refuse what's necessary to get back on your feet, the longer it will take to grasp a hold of what you desire so much." He pried her lips, pushing the treat in and feeling satisfaction hat she'd finally broken down her barriers for him, only to bite back a foul curse when pale teeth bit down on his finger with all strength possible.
She hissed, much like a venomous serpent, then dove away into the mattress where he couldn't see.
The older blond cradled his hand against his chest. He had half the mind to yell a curse, but no heart to do more than chew his own bottom lip and stand, calming himself in preparation to make a trip back to the grounds where he could take a deep breath and feel his mind at a fresher ease.
The sight of one familiar, white sheet of paper standing against mahogany wood called out to him.
He picked it up, shifting through the stapled forms which must've been delivered to the ward just an hour prior. Len spoke, whether or not she clasped her fingers over her ears, pretending she harboured not the littlest desire to hear. The characters he'd written for the slot of the baby's given name continued to display, fine and clear like printed footsteps across snow on a sunny day.
Len vaguely wondered why they hadn't gone to get a fresh change of paper when they must have all the opportunity to do so. Perhaps you need to request for one.
He put a finger in his mouth, the one she bit, hoping to suck away the pain. "They won't let me write on this."
His free arm moved the blanket from her shoulders, caressing the end tips of her golden hair.
"But I've heard that you can." The boy continued, attempting to slide the paper into her own hands while digging the side cabinet for a free pen. "Rin, just write down..."
"I don't want to look at it until I've seen my baby."
"It's just..."
"I said no."
Len gritted his teeth. "Fine. Do whatever you fucking want from now on."
Not as if he's desperate enough to come crawling to his knees.
He unloaded the bag on the bedside table, pulling out his wallet and his jacket and throwing them all into his body within the shortest span of time he could hope for. Her eyes were curious, and went he went to push the curtains to make way for his exit, she hurriedly straightened her back to reach forwards, her hands just falling short of grabbing his sleeve.
It was her voice which called him back. A desperate cry of his name, asking where he's planning to go.
He told the truth; he's tired of waiting, and he wants to go back home.
Rin looked speechless for a moment, though recovered fast the instant she realised he was making another gesture to depart. "You're ー you're going to leave me? All.. alone here ?"
Len shoved his hands in the pockets of his pants, brushing off all his frustrations with a shrug. "You already have your older brother. Your father's on the way. I don't know what else you want."
"No ー no ー I'll follow what you told me. I'll write what you want me to write ー just stay,"
"There's no point. You should be able to do fine without me." He's tired. He's restless. His throat feels as if he'd swallowed rose thorns and his irises feel as if they'd been doused in nothing less than pure venom, yet she persists to drain the life out of him as if he were nothing more than a mere source. "I'm done. I haven't slept for two nights because of you."
"Len-"
"Five months, and then I can do whatever I want. Leave you by a roadside, forget you even exist... right?"
He doesn't mean what he say. He doesn't mean a single word of what he says.
But right now he is at his limit. Hot tears are threatening to burst out, but instead he holds them in, exchanging emotions for spiteful words because by god, if he is considered selfish, so be it. He would rather this young lady broken to pieces than ever let himself cry over somebody like her.
She lets out a scream.
She lets out the loudest scream he's ever heard in his life.
His ears pierce and his own chest feels like the heaviest thing in the world to ever carry, but as a few nurses rush in, questioning whether she was in pain, he turned his back and felt the shackles on his wrists release, giving him wings to hide away.
He makes sure not to look back. There is no doubt he wouldn't be able to stomach it, he's sure he wouldn't be able to leave, he's sure he won't be able to take one step away if he does so much as glance behind. So he doesn't.
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The night is colder in the house when you are alone.
He thinks it feels rather like he's living in her shoes for a day.
The futon has always been a bit too cramped for two, but now it is abnormally large for only him. He stays near the edge, as if waiting by any minute for her to return from the bathroom or a bit of midnight stargazing in the back porch before returning to the warmth of his arms.
The blanket is sweet, smelling of sunflowers in summer and wild strawberries in spring... it reminds him of her scent whenever he kisses the top of her hair. The pillow is comforting, though minimal, as it does not rival the warmth of her legs winding around his waist and the way she forces him to cage her bodice in his own hold.
He gazes up.
He tries to scream. He tries, he tries, and his throat is sore by the end of it.
If she is still screaming, he screams with her. But nobody hears him, and nobody ever will. The mountains drown him out into mere echoes with the rustling trees and the birds soaring through the sky.
He is so, so, alone, and he hates nothing else in the world more than this solitude of ice.
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He always returns.
At this point he wonders why he even bothers with the dramatics when by the end of the day he's back inside that very same ward, leaving his identification card to the security with a promise it'd only be a quick visit to retrieve something forgotten, then be back within half an hour.
The aisle is full of drawn curtains around women's beds, both expecting mothers and some already with their babies waiting to be discharged. The only source of light is minimal, of the moon from the windows. The young man makes sure his footsteps are not louder than the rattling tree outside the window.
She is asleep when he sees her.
The mint biscuits he'd opened for her a day prior, which was previously untouched, now changed form into the littered wrappers across the floor.
The sockets of her eyes are red, and he leaves a single kiss on the top of her scalp as an apology.
Soon after he began picking up the trash, then disposing of it into the nearby wastebasket. He changes the empty bottle of water on her table for a fresh one, then assures that her blanket, which had been bunched up by her waist, comes up to rest snugly beneath her chin.
"I told you not to come back."
His bones jumped beneath his skin.
Len spun around at a speed faster than lighting, meeting sight of Kagamine Rin's older brother who'd been sitting in the shadows, no doubt having watched the entire scene play out. His hand rest on his chest, calming his surprise, and he wasn't sure whether he should sprint out without another word.
He is stubborn, he decides. It's something this girl has taught him to be well.
His feet is firmly routed to the ground. "Have you slept?"
Somewhat.
If the concept of sleep includes endless hours of staring beyond the creak in the ceiling, despising every little existent thing in the universe from the clouds in the night to the glimmering bright stars that will never compare the intensity of her eyes. If he speaks, his voice will be sore enough to scratch through his throat, crawling out of his heart and lungs.
The thought of pain nearly frightens him away.
It takes a moment, but when he finally responds, it is to begin a new discussion rather than to answer the other boy's question. "Sorry. I didn't think someone would be waiting.. for her."
Yuuma narrowed his eyes, thoughtful, though not about his choice of words. "You wouldn't have come if you'd known there was? What a coward you are."
Len didn't deny it. He tiptoed around the bed, bringing his voice lower ー not only to avoid waking up the young lady, but because also in refusal to disturb other patients in dire need of rest. "Is your dad around?"
A baby could be heard fussing somewhere about the room.. silenced with a loving hush merely a few seconds later.
"... yes, downstairs, doing paperwork. Not that it's any of your business. But if you're wanting to meet him, try not to keep your hopes up. He's insistent on avoiding you so you might as well leave before you waste any of our times."
"I just need to talk to him about ー "
"Do you have a death wish?"
The young man stepped backwards, confused. "What?"
"Do you have a death wish?" Yuuma repeated, whisper growling deeper by each passing note, as if having to speak with fool without the brain to think rather than a boy nearly too young to face the world.. "Don't assume me sitting here, having a calm conversation with you, doesn't mean I don't want to wring your neck and crack every single one of your bloody bones between my fingertips. Do you understand that?"
"... I understand."
"Good. Now you have an idea of what our father wants to do to you; only triple-fold."
Two young men stared each other down, jaws clenched, unrelenting, neither wanting to back down.
The younger of the two cast his glance sideways, onto those shut red eyes, cheeks still damp with tears he'd inflicted himself. His hands itch to wipe them away and kiss apologies above her ear, apologies that he hopes will enter the garden of dreams.
He may be a coward, but at the very least, he is brave enough to admit it.
"Alright," He finally decides. "I suppose I do have a death wish. So let me stay to meet him."
this might have been my least favourite chapter (to write and read) yet, and arguably perhaps the least developing?
either way rest assured that most, if not all of the story has already been written :) i just don't want to trouble by uploading them all at once.