Was working on it before the Proluge was published so Chapter 1 came out pretty fast, eh? Anyways, enjoy!
Weiβ Kreuz is made for the writer's entertainment to mess around with them. –sunny smile-
It's a half-baked idea-okay, more like ¼ baked of an idea but who's asking?
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Fearful
Chapter 1
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"O-otou-san!"
"Why do you even call me that! You're just a bastard! An illegitimate child! " With each word, he shook the dark-haired teenager violently, "From that whore!"
The words stung as painfully as ten thousands needles rained upon him. Maybe worse. The scene kept replaying over and over again in his mind's eye.
Sure, Ken knew that the man wasn't his real biological father –rather the man was Omi's father and the two of them share the same mother. The teenager never knew his birth father but his stepfather claimed him to be a wimp who always ran away from his problems as well as being a good scapegoat. However, this description was being contradicted when his stepfather was out doing who-knows-what, his mother said that his birth father was a wonderful fair man who was fiercely loyal to those he loved and cared. However, after she got pregnant with Ken, his father died in an accident on his way to the hospital to see his first son born. Sad thing was that she was already married to the current father of residence.
It was all true, so why did those mere words hurt so much more than that of being thrashed about like a rag doll? He heard it tons of times before but why was this time any different than the rest?
The slumbering brunet stirred slightly from the thin stream of morning light that was splashing over his handsomely somewhat childish face. Instinctively, he rolled over to his right side.
'Wait . . .'
Sea blue eyes slowly blinked opened, adjusting to the bright morning light, and he found himself on his bed . . . sort of –he was on the floor next to his bed. He gradually sat up and found his mother's form on his bed, all curled up in his blanket. A slight shift from his left and Ken turned around to see the small figure that was also curled up in the spare blanket with him, snuggling closer to Ken's warmth since; after all, sleeping on the cold hard wooden floor was of any comfort much less provide warmth. The brunette then noticed the supposedly white bandages that are now lightly tinted with rust color, wrapped around his torso. Recalling that he had a head injury, he carefully touched the back of his head to feel the all too-familiar cotton coarse bandages, snugly wrapped about his head. The way the wrapping was neatly done and with obvious precision and gentleness, Ken knew it was the handiwork of the young boy. His mother must have fallen asleep, exhausted when the two dragged his unconscious body in the bedroom, leaving Omi to tend to his own wounds and Ken's.
'Okaa-san. . . Omi . . . '
He glanced over to his alarm clock and realized that it was only six in the morning.
Taking care of not disturbing the two figures that were still dead to the world, Ken got out of the make-shift floor bed and carefully trekked across the hall to the small bathroom. Before even entering it, teal eyes swept across the homely apartment, scanning for a familiar lump of form on the couch or in his parents' room. Finding that his stepfather must've been out since sunrise or when the three went to sleep, Ken he exhaled a sigh that he never even realized he held. Then he entered the bathroom.
Standing in front of his own reflection in the mirror didn't surprise him the least bit. Instead of his healthy glow of tanned skin, it was sickly sallow and adding to the bruises of the recent and old, it didn't help either. Noticing a painfully purple colored contusion below his left collar bone, he gingerly touched it and immediately regretted that he hadn't. Ken sighed as he attempted to run his fingers through his hair, grabbing a handful of tousled short chocolate hair and yanking it hard enough to feel that this was reality.
And sadly it was.
He wondered why all the worse of possible things happens to him –Ken Hidaka? No, wait, why did it have to include innocent Omi? Ken questioned what the hell had he done in his previous life to receive this punishment. He was also speculating what Omi had done to deserve this as well. Omi, the cheerful teenager, had done not a damn thing that was wrong once he was brought into this world so why the hell the Gods above did wanted the boy to suffer? He had so many questions popping here and there with so little –if not, none at all– of an answer to each of them.
Ken lightly thumped his forehead against the mirror several times before he felt the familiar throbbing headache returning.
"Smart, Hidaka, very smart" he rolled his eyes at himself as he began his daily morning rituals in the small bathroom.
Coming out of the bathroom with a head towel in hand, drying off excess water on his dark coffee mop of hair, and one wrapped about his waist, he dumped the used-bandages in the wastebasket in the kitchen before returning to his shared bedroom. He found his mother was still sleeping peacefully and his younger brother was up and about, having the first aid kit out on the makeshift bed and motioned the older one to sit down. Observing the blonde one, Ken took notice of the bruise Omi had on his right cheek was seemingly getting better after spying some recent cold compressors beside him.
"Come on, oniisan!" Omi quietly urged as he took out some cotton balls and a medium sized peroxide bottle, "before the wounds gets infected!"
Obediently complying, Ken sat down in front of him with his back faced to the boy, towel draped over his head.
He sadly smiled at the pale blue wall, thinking how strange for Omi, being sixteen, knowing how to tend to minor wounds to gashing wounds that needed stitching. He thanked that at one time his mother was in medical school before becoming a stay-at-home-mother or else he'd be in the hospital so many times, the staff would expect him already; gurney and gown ready for his immediate arrival. Ken then frowned. The youth should be hanging out with his friends, be at the arcade, checking out girls, doing whatever the hell sixteen year old boys do; not at home bearing witness to what's happening to him and his mother and tending injuries for the aftermath. Where's the fun in that for the boy?
"Does it look bad, Omi?" Ken asked after several minutes of complete silence and then attempted to look over his shoulder before the towel decided to fall on his shoulder, obscuring his view.
The young blonde nibbled his lower lip a bit before replying, handing the head towel back and then started to wrap the older one's torso, "Just don't play soccer for a few days. And for your head, I think its fine but don't bang it on anything okay?"
No wonder Omi was hesitant to answer his question; he knew that Ken's only outlet in relieving his frustration was through soccer.
Tapping his shoulder lightly, the brunette turned around and found the blonde smiling sadly like a fallen angel.
"Gomen ne, oniisan."
Damp chocolate hair shook as Ken sighed, "Nah, its okay, Omi." He gave the boy a once-look over, "You okay?" meaning of Omi's share of injuries.
Wide smile lit up and nodded as he began to put away the supplies and stuffing it in their closet. "Hai!" The honey blonde flashed a reassuring grin, noticing the brunet's disbelieving expression, and hurried off to the bathroom.
After changing into their clothes with Ken donning a black t-shirt and blue faded jeans and Omi wearing a white t-shirt with a navy blue windbreaker jacket and beige overalls shorts with the strapping undone to be left hanging at the sides, the two quietly set about tiding the apartment up with what their able to before setting out to school.
"Ken? Omi?" their mother was standing by the living room door in her faded pink robe with her long chocolate locks in disarray, "what are you boys doing?"
Omi was squatting in his sneakers, picking up the portions of broken glasses in the living room very carefully and throwing it in the bag he held at hand after putting the coffee table correctly on its four legs, and Ken was in the kitchen, mopping up the splattered alcohol and the blood mark on the kitchen table, not wanting his mother to fuss over him. Hadn't she done that enough?
The two teenagers stopped and looked up, a smile surfacing on their faces, relieved to know that she wasn't completely hurt like they were.
"Cleaning, okaa-san," they replied.
She shook her head, "Leave the mess to me. Are you two alright? No serious injuries?"
Sapphire blue eyes met cerulean eyes for a brief second before glancing back to their mother's ocean-blue eyes and shook their heads. "Iie."
Studying them a few moments longer, unsure to trust them after last night's mishap; especially in Ken's case, she reluctantly sighed as a soft smile appeared. "Best be hurrying up to school, ne?"
They both glanced at their wristwatches before their mouths dropped. Dashing to their mother, they hugged her and she gave the two a peck of kiss on top of their head. She lifted their faces for remembrance for the day but immediately noticed Omi's contusion. She frowned and left to her bedroom to return with a powder make-up in hand. Dabbing Omi's face until the bruise was invisible; she clamped the thing shut and handed it to him.
"If you wash your face, make sure to put this on to cover it up, okay?"
"Hai, okaa-san!" Omi pocketed it in his backpack that he swiped near the couch on his way over.
"Be good."
"We always are!" Ken grinned, grabbing his backpack on the way, as Omi began to drag him towards the door.
"Ja, okaa-san!" The two chirped in unison.
"Ja" she said softly.
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"I'll see you after school, right, oniichan?" Sapphire blue eyes mixed with pleading and determination stared hard into teal eyes before Ken sighed and reluctantly nodded.
"Okay."
Happy to have triumph over his stubborn brother in less than 15 minutes than it usually takes –which took almost half an hour last time- Omi cheerfully waved and disappeared in the moving crowd that was heading upstairs. Ken could have provided to be a challenge to a mule or donkey any day of the week but he couldn't when faced with Omi's puppy look that was combined with pure determination. He could've sworn he was getting soft with the boy; however it was for the best for now due to his recent injury. The brunet just hoped the coach wouldn't nag him about why he couldn't play.
Speaking of nagging, he then realized if he didn't hurry it up to homeroom, he'd have detention and then the petit blonde would really start nagging.
Hurrying up the stairs that Omi ran up, to the third floor, the brunette sprinted down the nearly deserted hallway, mentally scolding himself for wasting time being a stubborn mule with the youth when he could have already been in class and taking a very short catnap. Ken dashed down another hallway, and this time, it wasn't so empty with juniors and seniors hanging outside of their classroom, chattering noisily and flirting shamelessly.
The dark haired teenager noted that he wasn't all that far away from his destination and gained fresh new burst of energy. However, Lady Luck had other plans for the youth today.
Being clumsy and a klutz was one of it, seeing that poor Ken tripped over someone's foot and his face went flying to the scratched waxed floor, black backpack sliding away at arm's length. A rupture of laughter went crashing, sending the teenager fumbling about in search of his backpack that was being tossed around by the seniors.
"Hey, give it back!" Ken vainly shouted as he tried to push his way through the bodies, eyeing his backpack as it was changing hands. "That's mine!"
After several minutes, the boy wondered when the bell's going to ring so he can have his backpack back. Answer obviously on hold by the Gods above for the millionth time he wondered or prayed; Ken was determined to have his bag back one way or the other.
However, he wasn't prepared for 'the other' as it would so happen to him.
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Ehehe, sorry to have chopped it off there. –sweat drop- It's a two thousand something to keep you busy for at least now anyways. Will start Chapter 3 tomorrow . . . hopefully. –sunny smile-