Jake Kyles? Jake me?
Was it referring to me? Or is it some other guy named Jake? It can't be me, can it? But why would mom hide it if there's nothing I shouldn't know? And I have the same birthday as that guy! Don't tell me…
"OI!" A low pitched voice boomed and made Jake's heart jumped to his throat as his bedroom dong swung open suddenly.
"AHH! What the shit?" Jake flew out of his squashed bean bag and let out a not-quite-manly shriek while spilling out all the colourful vulgarities he knew at his sickening brother. Klaine cackled, very much amused while he sauntered off with a satisfied grin on his face. Jake watched as his bedroom door closed gradually with a 'clack' of the latch. He released a relieved sigh and rested his head on his fist, calming his alarmed nerves in the silence.
"Oh ya, I forgot," Jake gasped as Klaine made a sudden appearance again. "Mom told me to get you down for dinner." Jake shot an annoyed look at the intruding brother. "Grrrrrrrrrraaaah! Can't you just tell me without the scaring part?" Klaine grinned widely, his pink gums showing. "Get out." Flipping himself over, Jake buried his face into his bean bag and wished hard that Klaine would get out and leave him alone. "Come on, let's go. Your favourite, fooooood." Klaine dragged on the last word purposefully.
Standing outside of Jake's room with his neck stretched inside, Klaine rested one hand on the wall and the other pressed on the doorknob. The grin subsided into none as the wait for Jake to move became tiresome. His turquoise eyebrow raised as his eyes of the similar colour roamed the room before him. Photos and posters haphazardly pasted around the four walls strangely seemed to be of a perfect arrangement which made the room looked comfortable. Painted orange and flooded with photos and posters with a glowing lava lamp at the bedside, the room reflected Jake's personality. It was bright and messy but somehow nice when put together. The silence was getting extremely awkward as Jake continued to be a stone while Klaine stood motionless like a stature in Rome because he ran out of things to look at in Jake's room. Both were battling with each other's stubbornness, the first one to move would be the loser. However, Klaine was a guy who only believe in win-win and win-lose situations. He straightened himself up and cracked his knuckles. The heavy footsteps of Klaine's massive weight echoed in Jake's ears with an unhurried rhythm and got increasingly louder until it stopped. Jake took a peek behind him. There was a flash of turquoise blue and without warning, he was dragged off the bean bag with a firm grip on his ankles. It was burning hot and he could not shake it off. Klaine's hand burned like hot metal chains that gripped around his cold ankles.
Klaine clapped his hands in victory as he skipped down the stairs with Jake lying face down on the chilly wooden floor, throat a little hoarse from the screaming and swearing. "Alright! Time for dinner!" Klaine announced downstairs, clear amusement in his voice. Jake looked over his shoulder at the head of blue hair with his offensive finger flashing and spat, "Bitch."
At the dining table, the family remained mostly silent as they dug in, filling their hungry stomachs after a long day. Orihime's cooking had improved over the years, especially after somebody warned her of the danger of peculiar foods she loved to prepare towards her growing children. And also after the day when Klaine brutally rejected her as he bumped the bowl of chocolate marshmallow porridge off his baby table with his tiny little hands and wailed out a terrible cry as those cerulean eyes leaked out a waterfall of tears. Orihime felt a little sad that she had to give up on her exciting adventure of mixing different foods together to create a parade of exploding flavours. However, to Grimmjow, it was pretty good news.
The same thought whirled around his mind in a thousand different ways, spiraling and twisting, forming a million different answers to the troubling question inside of his head. Jake was extremely disturbed. His heart raced fast, beating with the rhythm of the blood through his veins between his ears, like a frantic deer running around the same tree over and over again. All he could hear was the beating inside of him, everything else was silent and unmoving. He feared and he hoped. He wanted to ask, but right now, right here? It was too unintelligent to be asking that awkward question at this moment, right in front of the whole family. He lifted his head up from his plate and saw his mother. His eyes felt a little strange. Those arms that raised him when he was still a child, those eyes that had always twinkled when they looked at him, those lips that kissed him lovingly, are those of his mother? His real mother? Jake felt a little tugging on his chest. He felt sad. He looked around. These people sitting around him, a day ago they belonged to him but right at this moment, he felt like they were strangers. He shook off the piercing thoughts and stared at the bowl of rice before him.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?"
He stared at his mother blankly, a little shock as he got knocked off from his own daydream. He opened his mouth, but he could not answer. He cannot tell her, he was unsure himself.
The next day, Jake locked himself in his room as he listened to the feet stepping on the wooden floor behind his bedroom wall. Sitting on the bed while hugging his knees, he waited for the silence.
"Bye, joker." Klaine's voice rumbled through the gap underneath the door. Jake closed his eyes as he felt strange. He didn't feel angry or annoyed when Klaine called him names anymore. Was there something wrong with him?
He listened to the movements outside. "Bye mom!" Those light and speedy steps must be Tovvie. "Bye bye!" That sounded loud, Tovvie must have purposely leaned into the door and shouted.
"Bye." That must be Dad. Jake imagined his Dad and Mom giving each other a little hug like they would do everyday before Grimmjow goes to work. The soft knocks on the door should be Dad.
The silence surrounding him signaled that everyone was out, the coast was clear. Jake gave a twist to the knob and it let out a loud click as the lock jutted outwards. He poked his head out and gave an overall scan to the surroundings. Peaceful. All he could hear was Scruffy's barking in the backyard. Feeling the cool wood on his feet, Jake moved like a cat with quiet padded paws. The master bedroom's door was wide open. Mom's home. Having tried to look for the right time to clarify his thoughts, Jake decided to take this chance when the other family members was out to confront his mother. That little box with the paper and the necklace, was it related to him?
He gave a few knocks on the door with his knuckles. Turning away from her desktop, Orihime smiled at her second son and gave a little pat on the edge of the bed, beckoning him to come sit here. Biting on his upper lip, with his hands fisted in his pockets, Jake shuffled awkwardly to sit beside his mother like an obedient little puppy. "You have something to tell me, Jake?" Orihime turned her chair around and beamed at Jake, her hand touching his cheek gently. His toes fidgeting and his hands tugging on the insides of his pockets, Jake made a decision to ask bravely. But when he opened his mouth, all he could manage an inaudible rasp. Jake lowered his head in embarrassment and anxiety, gritting his teeth hard as the question would not budge from his throat and come out from his mouth. "What is it? Jakey, is something wrong?" The stroking on his head was soft and gentle and he could not bring himself to ask such a cruel question. He was afraid to hurt his loving mother as well as himself. He was scared. If he could, he would escape from the much-feared answer as far as he can. But then that his curiosity and a part of him was dying to learn of the answer, he could not choose to ignore.
"Mom," Those honeyed-brown eyes he met, he feared those lovely orbs would break. "am I…" Orihime leaned in, curious and concerned. Counting his loud heartbeat, Jake gathered up his last bit of courage and kicked himself mentally.
Finally, those words ran out.
"Mom, am I your real son?"