Fifteen wasn't really all that different than fourteen.
When he was smaller, Michel had made a big stink over his birthday. He'd always wanted a party and presents and a big cake, no matter what. And his birthdays generally had been elaborate; Nana, KR and later Chloé had always catered to him on his special day. His thirteenth birthday had resulted in the biggest party, but this year's birthday was by far the most important.
This was the birthday which Free was present for, after all.
Yet, with everything that had been going on in the days prior to October twenty-fourth, Michel had been too exhausted to request the usual party. There had been school on his birthday, and work, and he didn't even have the energy to plead for the entire day off, which Aya probably would have given him, were he to ask. His birthday wishes were simple, instead. He'd asked Ken to make his favorite meal from when he was small -ham, cabbage and onions boiled into a sort of bland soup and mashed potatoes- and had wondered after the possibility that he and Free could both have the afternoon off that day, so they could go and pick up his birthday gift when he got home from school.
His birthday gift was something he felt they could all use in their lives. He had always been fond of cats -kittens especially- but had never been allowed to have one at the castle. He'd had a dog then, but KR had worried what would happen to a cat if he were to have one; the castle was too big for such a tiny animal.
Michel wanted something to snuggle. He wanted something to love and cuddle and take care of, since every one else was always taking care of him. Kittens were his favorite and it made sense to have one in the shop; it was called the "Kitten's House," after all. He thought they could use a mascot and he was more than old enough to look after his own pet.
Aya had readily agreed to the idea; he had a weakness for cats, especially if they were exotic ones. The idea had been approved by Krypton, who agreed it would be a good idea, considering everything that had been going on in Michel's life. It had been proven that animals were therapeutic and they all knew the little blond needed something.
So Michel was getting a kitten as his birthday gift.
By some miracle of nature, the twenty-forth dawned bright and sunny. The birthday boy took a moment to stretch, lazing under his comforter and pushing his bangs from his eyes. He didn't feel any older, or any different, but that didn't matter. It was his birthday, he was getting a kitten and there would be ice cream later.
Crawling out of bed, Michel padded over to the window and tugged open the curtains. Bright light filtered into the room, causing his hair to glow golden, and he blinked, rubbing his eyes. Even at seven in the morning, the London streets were busy with people bustling off to work and the occasional sound of a car horn filtered through the air. He lifted the window and shivered when a blast of chilly air entered the room. The bloody fingerprints on the sill had been painted over, but the memory was still there, and he chose to ignore it.
"Good morning, world." He said softly to the street below, "It's my birthday today, so I hope you'll treat me kindly." He hoped he would be lucky enough to have a respite from the teasing and taunting at school; things had been better, but the world would never cease to be a cruel place.
Since that night a week ago, when he had been bashed against a wall and nearly raped, the world had seemed to slow to a crawl. Everything had changed, suddenly, and Michel wasn't sure if he liked it or not.
After he had explained what had happened to him -after he broke down, and cried, and told them everything- Aya had placed a phone call to Krypton at the castle. The older man had been shocked to learn of the abuse of his charge and had driven into town as soon as possible to speak with Michel, and the rest of the team, and the headmaster and teachers at Saint Justin's.
As he dressed for the morning, Michel thought over that encounter.
Nana had given him a hug and told him how sorry she was and how much she admired his courage and bravery. He had replied that he didn't feel very brave and wondered if she knew everything. She would undoubtedly be disappointed if she knew what he did to himself, so when she insisted that he was a strong boy, he didn't bother contradicting her. Nana meant well, after all, and she had always looked out for him. Just because she didn't know, didn't mean she couldn't be kind to him still.
KR had been angry; Michel had never seen him more so. He wanted the name of every boy present in that bathroom and every boy who tried to touch Michel at school. The blond hadn't been sure what to do -he didn't know every one's name- and had gotten flustered and cried more. Free had glared at the older blond at this point, moving closer to Michel and putting an arm around him protectively.
"Don't get them in trouble…" The small blond had whispered from where he was nestled at Free's side. "Please; don't. That will only make it worse." He had been terrified of what Thomas and his cronies would do when they found out he had squealed on them.
"They can't get away with this, Michel." Krypton had told him gently, "Something needs to be done."
"No; no; no!" He had shaken his head, curls bouncing, and buried his face in Free's chest. Strong hands stroked his back as the boy tried not to imagine the torture he would face after the other boys had been scolded accordingly. "I don't want them to hurt me any more."
"If nothing gets done about it, they probably will."
"If you do something, they'll know I told and that will make it worse." Michel could be stubborn and knew he was, but it had been a long time since KR went to school and it had been a long time since he had any contact with schoolyard bullies.
In the end, it had happened anyway.
The Tuesday after the attack at the Autumn Café, Krypton, Nana and Michel had met with the headmaster.
Having been kept home from school that day and the previous one, Michel had dressed in his best slacks and sweater. He'd combed his hair with a heavy heart, dreading this trip and wishing it didn't have to happen. Why did everything have to be so difficult? If KR had just left it alone, life could have resumed as normal.
James Bradshaw, the headmaster, had ushered them into his office and told them to please sit down. As Michel lowered himself into the chair provided and glanced around the spacious chamber, he felt very small. Bradshaw was a large man, both in height and girth, and -not known particularly for his fairness or sense of justice- he frightened the boy. Nana seated herself primly on one side of him, KR on the other, and they had both looked so cool and composed; as if they knew what to expect and knew the results of the meeting already.
"Mr. Bradshaw," Krypton had begun, "I chose this school for Michel because of its fine reputation as both an institution of learning and a place where boys learned good morals and ethics. It has come to my attention that…"
Staring at the potted plant on Bradshaw's desk, Michel had managed to tune out most of the meeting. He hadn't particularly wanted to relive his recent experiences, or go on display in front of some one he didn't know, but he found himself flatly telling the story, emotionlessly, several times, confirming facts and correcting discrepancies in KR's retelling of the events. It had been hard, but he didn't cry, just sat there, fingers clenched around the armrests of the chair so tightly that his knuckles were white, words that didn't sound like they were being spoken in his own voice coming from his mouth.
He spoke of the beginning, when they had teased him about being Irish and about how pretty he was. How it moved on to calling him all those horrible words associated with homosexuality. The things carved on his desk, scrawled on the bathroom stalls and written on his locker. The groping. The touching. The attempts to jerk him off and "prove he liked it." Everything right up to the Autumn Café; they all knew there was no way he could explain that. What reason would he have for being dressed as a girl?
Bradshaw had been surprised, to say the least. He hadn't seemed truly concerned, but he had been surprised. He'd never heard of such a thing happening in his school, and would look into it, which seemed to placate Krypton and Nana.
Michel knew little would change, though. As influential as KR was, Thomas and his pals came from prominent families and there was no way they would be punished or kicked out or reprimanded at all. Perhaps they would be wary for a while, and not bother him as much. Perhaps it would be worse. He wouldn't know for certain until time, as it inevitably does, moved on.
The days prior to his birthday had been unsettlingly uneventful and Michel was waiting for the other shoe to drop. He had returned to school on the Wednesday after the attack, feeling small and even more alone and a bit shaky still. He didn't know what he would do when he encountered Thomas and the other bullies, but he had decided he was no longer going to be afraid of them. Bullies were a fact of life and sooner or later he would have to stand up for himself, even if it were to mean being expelled from school for violent behavior. He didn't like the idea of hurting another person, but he would, if it meant a cessation of the violence against him.
None of the students seemed to pay him any mind upon his less-than-glorious return to school. He was absent often enough for them to have him pegged as a sickly boy suffering from chronic illness and no one gave a two-day absence a second thought. The teachers, however, looked at him with mixed expressions; some looked sympathetic -his English teacher (that was the class he did best in, after all) and his history teacher, a woman who none of the students liked much- and some had seemed even more surly towards him, especially the science and math teachers, who did not feel that he worked up to their standards.
Miss Ebert had called him into her office during his math period, something which he was incredibly thankful for. Though he was not overly fond of Miss Ebert -she was always nosing around where she shouldn't be- Michel liked her enough to be glad she had removed him from his worst class.
"Mr. Bradshaw told us all what happened, Michel." Betsy was dressed in a white pantsuit and -Michel nearly did a double take to make sure he wasn't seeing things- a lavender tie. She leaned back in her desk chair, seemingly searching his face, and he frowned softly. "If there's anything you would like to talk about or anything you need, I'm here for you. Mr. Bradshaw would like for those events to never repeat themselves." She paused, looking contemplative for a minute, "And I am worried about you."
"We're taking care of it, Ma'am." He had replied softly, not bothering to look up at her, "Edward found me a therapist with a very good reputation." As much as he hated the idea of talking to a stranger, Aya had insisted and Krypton agreed with him. There was too much in his life he had attempted to block out, they decided, and it was time he faced it, beginning with his parents' murder and his experiences as a child. He was going to start sessions with Doctor Adelaide Schulz -some one Chloé knew and admired- approximately a week after his birthday and that was that.
"Mr. Ktotznik-" She consulted her file to figure out just who "Edward" was and thusly butchered the pronunciation of his last name, "-found some one? Shouldn't that responsibility lie with Sir Richard? He is your guardian, after all." Betsy raised a brow, still studying Michel. She was curious about the home life of both boys; Yuki spent more than his fair share of time in her office, usually sullen and uncooperative when she tried to speak with him.
"Edward is my guardian when I am not at the castle, Miss Ebert." The blond said softly, "As I have not lived at the castle for several years, Mr. Krypton has entrusted my care with Edward." He hated using Chloé's real name, solely because Chloé hated his real name. But he knew his file would not list Chloé as "Chloé" and that for Betsy Ebert to understand, he would have to refer to his surrogate brother as "Edward."
"I see." She nodded to herself and Michel wondered just what it was she saw.
"Just remember," She continued, "I'm here if you need me. Ms. McKernon is as well; she's been very concerned about you. Believe it or not, Michel, we are here to help you."
He'd heard it a thousand times before and he didn't want to hear it again. He was in far too deep for any one to be of a help now. There was no getting out of Kryptonbrand -and the thought of getting out of it frightened him, anyway- and there was no way this woman or his history teacher or any one else could really help him, no matter how well-meaning they were. "Thank you, Ma'am." He nodded, knowing that was the response she was waiting for, "I'll certainly keep that in mind."
That day had been long, but surprisingly uneventful, as Michel's school days went.
His birthday had been just as tame, and he actually felt rather happy as he and Yuki left the school grounds later that day. Yuki had spent the day looking particularly fierce, as if he was daring every one to try anything with Michel. No one seemed to care one way or the other, however, they mostly just ignored him, as was the new trend. It made Michel wonder what Bradshaw had said to them and if their parents had been informed. Every one knew of Sir Richard Krypton, the beloved wealthy philanthropist, and Michel was fairly certain that they knew of him as well. There was no way Krypton's taking in and raising an orphan from Ireland would have been ignored.
"You had an okay day?" Yuki questioned, "Nobody bothered you?" He half-wished he wasn't a grade ahead of Michel; it would be easier to keep an eye on him if they had the same class schedule. If they had classes together, nobody would have laid a finger on Michel since he started attending the damn school.
"Mostly, I was ignored." Michel was buttoning his jacket, "I seem to be invisible these days."
"It's better than everything else though, right?" Yuki glanced over at him. Sometimes, he was unsure how Michel's mind worked. The blond had forgiven him for disappearing at the café, but Yuki still wasn't sure about a lot of things Michel did or said. He could never predict what the Irish teen would do, or what was on his mind.
"Of course it's better." Michel smiled at him, "I'd much rather be invisible than be beaten up and harassed." What a silly question. Life was so much better when every one ignored him. He still didn't feel safe at school, but he wasn't quite so scared any more.
"You're going to get the cat today, aren't you?" Yuki changed the subject, knowing it was better to avoid school and related topics.
"Aye; Free is taking me to the shelter after I change out of my uniform." The little blond was excited about getting a kitten. He had been asking for one for years and thought he would never actually get one. There was always some reason that a kitten would not be a good idea, always some logical explanation as to why he couldn't have one. But now he had permission and he was going to get one. KR had even told him it would be no problem to get a purebred expensive one, if he so desired, but there was something about giving a stray a home that appealed to Michel. He could almost see himself as the cat, scared and tiny and unsure what would happen next, but suddenly given a wonderful home.
A hint of a smile crossed Yuki's face. "I know you'll pick out a good one." He had fond memories of feeding the strays with Chris back in the City. Chris had had a kind heart and a soft spot for any small, hungry animal, as well as the many homeless people in their neighborhood. Yuki remembered Akagawa chastising Chris over giving his lunch money to the homeless, when he and Alison worked hard to provide them with said money. Chris had been hardened, but gentle at the same time, not at all unlike Michel himself. Maybe that was why he was protective of Michel and why the idea of the kitten seemed like such a perfect, appropriate idea.
Michel grinned at him as he burst through the door of the shop, dashing excitedly off to change. He practically crashed into his bedroom door in his hurry to get in and take off the obnoxious uniform. Kicking off his shoes and yanking his tie off, he hopped on one foot towards his closet, looking for something suitable to wear.
One pair of green corduroys and a brown sweater later, Michel was stuffing his feet into his favorite boots when there was a knock on his door.
He jumped up and flung open the door, -laces still untied- only to find Free smiling down at him in amusement at his half-presentable state. "Are you almost ready to go?" The man asked, "I know this may take you a long time and I do not want us to come home empty handed because the shelter closed for the evening."
Michel nodded. "I'm almost all set. Just need to tie my shoes and find my jacket." He smiled happily, "I'm very excited. I've wanted a kitten for a long time." The fact that Free was taking him to get a kitten made it that much better. He wouldn't have wanted any one else to do it.
A short while later, the duo was walking from the underground to the nearest shelter, in search of the perfect cat. Free knew Michel would be quite choosey in this task and very particular, but also that his small friend would know the perfect cat when he saw it. This excursion had potential to take a long time, or to be relatively short, depending on how quickly they stumble across the cat that was meant for Michel.
The shelter was stuffy and smelled of clay cat litter. Free wrinkled his nose at the scent, feeling sorry for the cats and thinking they deserved better. Michel frowned softly, looking about and taking in the grime and fur everywhere. He knew it was difficult to care for so many cats, especially when there was little money to care for them with, but the poor creatures shouldn't have been cooped up in such a place.
A heavyset woman with thick glasses and a messy ponytail welcomed them in enthusiastically. There were two cats twining around her feet and meowing loudly and she had to toe at them to keep from stepping upon them as she led Michel and Free further into the room. "Is there any sort of cat you're looking for?" She questioned, "We have a large variety."
"Ja…" Free kept a proprietary hand on Michel's shoulder, "Do you currently have any kittens?"
The woman's face brightened. "You're in luck! Usually we don't, since kittens get adopted quickly -every one wants a kitten, after all- but we had a cat give birth recently and the kittens are just now old enough to be adopted." She motioned towards a door, "They're in here…We try to keep them away from the older cats at first, since some of them are fairly wild and we don't want the kittens harmed. If you'll follow me, please…"
Michel bounded after her, Free trailing sedately behind him like a shadow. The kittens and their mother were quartered in a small room with a litter box, some food bowls and some toys scattered around. The mother was a sleek calico; she was curled on a windowsill in the sunlight, watching her offspring carefully. Three kittens frisked about the room, chasing one another and pouncing on things only they could see, pine needle claws drawn in a valiant effort to thwart their invisible enemies.
The little blond squealed at the sight of the kittens and crouched down, trying to entice them to come to him. A black and white spotted one approached him first, sniffing his outstretched fingers and mewling, much to Michel's delight. The other two, a sandy tabby and a smaller calico version of the mother, were still playing; the tabby was chasing its sister, swatting at her little tail. "They're all so cute!" Michel exclaimed, stroking the downy fur of the black and white kitten.
Free noticed the fourth kitten before Michel did. It was grey and striped, almost identical to the sandy brown one frolicking across the floor. But it was curled in a ball on a cushion in the corner, listless, and the tall man watched it for a moment. "That one," He turned to the shelter woman, nodding towards the kitten in question, "It is the runt, ja?"
She nodded. "We're not expecting her to get adopted. People want playful, alert kittens. And if she doesn't get adopted…" The woman sighed, "She may not survive."
Free nodded, looking again at the little ball of fluff in the corner. The kitten looked up at him, blinking beseeching blue eyes at him, as if asking him to please take her home. It made him think back to one of the few memories he held so dear; the memory of little-Michel looking up at him from the bed, eyes wide and frightened. "Michel…" He lightly touched the shoulder of his distracted companion, "There is another kitten."
"Hmm?" The teen looked up from the friendly, playful kittens, green eyes settling on Free's face. "Another one? Where?" He blinked back down at the three kittens butting playfully at his hands and mewing loudly, easily counting again to make sure there were three.
"In the corner." Free gently turned his companion's head in the direction, "She is the runt."
Michel looked over, his fingers still scritching at the ears of the calico. Instantly, he felt his heart twist for the pathetic, ignored ball of grey fur that was settled in the corner. She looked so sad and unloved and he knew instantly this was the kitten for him. "I want that one." Abandoning the other kittens -who protested loudly at suddenly being ignored- he crossed the room and sank down near the little grey kitten. "Do you want a home?" He murmured, stroking a few fingers along her head between her ears, "Do you want some one to love and care for you?"
Free watched fondly as Michel charmed the kitten into sniffing and nuzzling his fingers. She was hesitant and shy at first, and the shelter director looked surprised when Michel rose, the grey kitten snuggled gently in his arms. "I want this one, definitely." He proclaimed, holding the frail body against his chest, where he could feel her rumbling purr. "She needs a good home." He smiled down at the grey bundle in his arms, "Just like I did when I was small."
Free's expression softened. "If that is the one you want, that is the one we are taking." He was almost glad that Michel had seen himself in the kitten; the parallel was perfect.
"She's perfect." Michel said as they waited for the train a short time later, the kitten safely tucked away in a small plastic pet carrier. "She's just the kind of cat I need; one who can grow and change and become stronger with me."
A frightened mew came inside the carrier and Free watched as Michel stooped to comfort his new treasure, sticking narrow fingers through the door for her to sniff and cooing out endearments. "Do you have a name in mind for her?" He asked, curious as to what the little blond would dream up.
"Hope." Michel rose, picking up the carrier as the train roared into the station. He looked up at Free, expression serious and eyes fleetingly full of long-gone innocence. The name had come to him the second he saw her; he needed her, she needed him and they all needed a little bit of hope in their lives. "Her name is Hope."
At that, a real, genuine smile -the kind that was absent from any of their faces far too often- crossed Free's face, giving Michel possibly the best birthday gift he had ever received in his young life.
