Phil is probably telling Wilbur to stick close to Techno and look out for him throughout the school day, but it sounds more like static. The noise is muffled, drowned in a hundred voices from the people rushing past them towards the building all combining into a constant buzz. Techno presses closer to the car. Maybe if he plays the scared little kid card, Phil will allow him to go home. He could start school next week. Or next month. Or if he acts pathetic enough, Phil will agree to homeschool him. Techno is a pretty good actor.

And he hates going to a new school more than he hates going to a new family.

Or maybe it's a different kind of hate. But the latter is something he knows how to deal with - mainly by embracing that loathing and allowing it to guard him against all the other emotions bouncing around his head. Being the new kid at school just plain sucks.

"Come on, we're going to be late." Wilbur grabs his elbow to drag him along. Techno's desire to wrench away from that touch is slightly outweighed by his desire not to be swept up in an unruly crowd of kids, so he allows Wilbur to hold onto him and pull him to the entrance. Wilbur waves at Phil over his shoulder and Techno barely cranes his head back to make eye contact before regretting the decision.

Phil is giving him the goofiest thumbs up accompanied by an equally goofy grin.

Techno turns back to the large brick building looming over him. Waiting to swallow him whole.

Wilbur marches the both of them straight inside and towards a specific hallway on the ground floor with purpose. Techno trusts he knows where they're going because despite studying the map of the school he was provided beforehand, he doesn't feel like he knows where anything is. This place is a lot bigger than his old middle school, the one Techno went to the longest. And he didn't really stick around in his old high school long enough for it to become intimidating. Plus, everybody he knew went there so he could just covertly follow them around.

Here, people are gawking at him. Either that or Techno's social anxiety has been pushed into overdrive again. When he sees one girl lean in close and whisper to her friend from behind a cupped palm, he feels like they must be talking about him. He pulls the sleeves of his sweater down further over his hands. It's the soft pastel pink one Kristin semi-forced him to get. Techno kind of has to admit he's grateful for it now.

"Okay, just stay right here." Wilbur pushes Techno into a line of people. From what Techno can tell, they're lining up for the office where they handle the school's administration. "I'll be right back. I wanna say hello to my friends real quick."

Techno doesn't get a chance to nod before Wilbur is gone. It's a bit nerve-wracking to be surrounded by so many strangers, but standing in a line is easy enough. He can manage that much.

His hand finds the phone sticking out of his pocket, pushing it down a little bit so it doesn't fall out.

Sam texted him this morning. Out of nowhere, early enough that it woke Techno up actually. The sound jumpscared him too because nobody ever texts Techno. Sometimes he wonders who even has his number at this point. Sam, of course. Phil and Kristin and Wilbur do too, since he got kind of pressured into giving it to them. Tommy doesn't have a phone yet. Nobody else would ever want to reach out to Techno.

But Sam texted him to check in and wish him luck at the new school. And Techno maybe almost had to roll over and put the pillow on top of his own head just so he could breathe. How could three lines on a blurry old phone screen make his chest feel so constricted his heart might burst? It really wasn't fair.

Luckily, all of that was easy to forget in the face of the horror he felt at actually having to go to said new school. There was a bit of a tickle in Techno's throat when Phil casually told him over breakfast - a bowl of cereal from a brand Techno still didn't know he quite liked - that they took care of his enrollment before he arrived. Wilbur smiled at him from the other side of the table and Techno avoided his eye by looking down at his own hand. The marker stain was gone, though he knew the lines scribbled on the walls that they painted over. Techno knows now, about them wanting him, and that will never go away.

Techno swallowed it down uneasily back then. But the blossom inside him is stubborn.

Before Phil could call him down again that morning so they could drive to school, Techno kneeled on the bathroom tiles and coughed up the flower that grew inside his lungs overnight into the toilet. It was still just the one - yellow bouvardia, Wilbur's gift to him. The rate at which he expells them is not concerning yet according to the sites Techno has read. One per day classifies as an extremely minor case of Hanahaki disease. He is very much in the clear for any severe complications if the symptoms are handled.

Techno only has to figure out exactly what 'handling it' is going to mean for him.

"I'm back!" Wilbur claps him on the shoulder - an action that manages to bodily push Techno into the teen lining up in front of him. Techno scoots back, hunching in on himself. But Wilbur just gives a quick apology and a charming grin, so the kid doesn't seem to mind.

Must be nice, to be effortlessly liked by other people.

Wilbur then drops his hands and puts them in his pockets. "I told my friends we can meet up during lunch, so I'll introduce you to them. Don't worry, they're very chill."

Techno vaguely hums, not thinking his voice will hold up if he tries to verbally answer. He is fairly certain that Wilbur and he have a pretty different definition of what the word 'chill' means. Not that that's any fault of Wilbur's. He can't help it that Techno's brain deems anything more than an inch outside of his comfort zone as a real threat to his well-being and mental health.

Sometimes, Techno feels an odd kinship to rabbits. Prey animals that are constantly on the run in a world that's so much bigger and more dangerous to them than it should be. Not to mention that if Techno could dig a burrow to live in and never come out or interact with other people again, he'd take that opportunity with both hands.

Wilbur doesn't touch him again, but kind of awkwardly clears his throat to signal it's their turn. Techno blinks out of his self-indulgent fantasies about convenient tunnels to retreat into and steps forward.

The woman behind the desk looks at him, then at Wilbur next to him, then back. "Mister Craft?" she asks.

"Uh, no." Techno gulps down a small cough threatening to slip out. "It's Mister Blade. I don't-"

"Yes, yes, somebody called ahead." The woman turns towards her computer with something too close to an eye roll for it not to trigger Techno's rejection-sensitive dysphoria - wow, what a great way to start the day.

Wilbur is tapping away at his phone, probably missing most of the exchange. He did mention that having your cell out during class would instantly see it taken away, so most kids would try to get that vital screen time in quickly before the bell rang and during the breaks.

"Here you go." She hands him a manilla folder that reminds Techno of a military debriefing or something. "Don't forget to have your guardians sign the consent form that's in there."

They're ushered out of the office before Techno can get so much as a thank you in. It's not even the start of the school year, so he can't fathom why it's this busy. He doesn't question it though, dutifully following Wilbur out into the hallway. Wilbur reaches for the folder and Techno allows him to pluck it from his hands.

"Oh cool, we do have classes together. Like math, right now actually." Wilbur is looking over a piece of paper that Techno assumes must be his schedule. "We also share science classes." He takes off down the hall and Techno stays as close as he can bear without literally gluing himself to Wilbur's side. At his old school, he always made sure to get to the classroom well ahead of time so he didn't have to traverse the hallways in the morning when they were this crowded. The fact he is forced to do that around lunch is already bad enough.

"Holy shit, you're taking advanced English?" Wilbur is frowning at the paper now, maybe he thinks there has been a mistake since it's a class normally reserved for seniors and all.

"Jup," Techno says quickly. "Since a while."

"You're such a nerd," Wilbur laughs.

It might be an insult, but it doesn't exactly sound like one. Techno scrunches up his nose when he answers. "You're literally in the school band."

"What?" Wilbur spins around. "Band is not nerdy."

"I'm not sure the guys going around shoving kids into lockers agree," Techno shrugs.

Wilbur laughs again, a little more high-pitched and incredulous. "What kind of fucking school did you go to before this?"

The bell ringing saves Techno from having to reply to that, since it makes Wilbur curse and speed along a bit faster. They get to class only a few minutes ahead of the teacher. There's a handful of empty seats near the front of the room and Techno takes one because Wilbur went to sit with his friends. The teacher jumps straight into handing out assignments without making him introduce himself in front of his gawking classmates or acknowledging Techno's presence at all, something Techno takes as proof there might be a merciful god left in the universe after all.

The first half of the day passes by slowly. Techno might be dissociating through a decent chunk of it, but he didn't get lost on his way to English class after Wilbur pointed it out on his map and told him how to get there, so that's a huge win for Techno. By the time lunch rolls around, he's been overstimulated long enough for the constant burn of it to be reduced to cinders settling on the back of his spine. From experience, Techno knows that will just make it worse later. But for now, it's not too bad.

He's going to need it to cope with Wilbur's friends.

They're… very loud. Jeering and yelling at each other across the table. The only one Techno thinks he likes by the end of it is a girl called Niki. She's quieter than the rest, preferring to nod along to the others joking. And she has really cool dyed hair. Techno also sees that she has a novel tucked away between all her books for school - Watership Down, one of Techno's favorites. So that means he's legally required to think she's cool.

While they talk, Techno spends most of his time looking around the cafeteria and trying to gauge how many kids go to this school. It's within walking distance from their home, though Wilbur and Tommy said Phil or Kristin drive them sometimes too. Like when they went to the mall after dropping them off or this morning because it's Techno's first day. Wilbur seems to be reasonably popular. Aside from his little group of friends, Techno watches so many other people talk to Wilbur throughout the day that it makes his head spin. It's hard enough for Techno to keep track of the few people he's been introduced to. He can't even remember most of their names.

At his old school, Techno usually just hid out in the library during lunch. But he doesn't know where that is yet. Besides, Wilbur said Techno should sit here with his friends.

Still, when Techno sees a table across the room that's completely pushed against the corner so it's far away from everybody else, he's almost envious. There's only one person sitting at it, with his legs on top of the chair across him and wearing headphones. He looks completely fine with being left alone.

"That's Schlatt," Wilbur says. He pokes his elbow into Techno's side. "You're better off staying away from him."

Techno pulls his eyes away, pretending to need all his concentration to eat his sandwich. He knows everybody at the table is looking at him because they caught him staring. "Why?"

"He's like, totally a drug dealer. Everybody knows that." The guy who spoke up has ginger hair and a black jacket. Techno already forgot his name too.

"Definitely the school's worst-kept secret," Wilbur adds.

"Then why isn't he punished?" Techno asks. He might have only been here for a day but he's fairly confident that selling narcotics has to be against the school rules.

"Schlatt has been expelled numerous times," another kid - Techno vaguely recalls their name as Eret - answers. "But it never sticks. His parents are old money. And he's a senior, so I guess they just gave up on it."

Wilbur shakes his head at the term 'old money' but Techno pretends not to see, picking at the loosened threads of his sleeves. He hopes Kristin won't be mad at him already ruining the sweater. Techno likes having something to fidget with.

When the bell rings, he gets to escape conversation by going to class again. The rest of the day passes by quickly enough, though Techno hopes nothing too important was covered because he can't remember most of it. It'll probably be like that for the first week or two, before his dumb brain can settle and start coping with the newness of everything. Wilbur is waiting for him near the gate when school ends because they're walking home together. There's no band on Monday, apparently. They stop by Tommy's elementary school on the way too.

Tommy is out on the playground playing with two other boys, but he skips over immediately when he sees Wilbur and Techno. "You'll never guess how many bugs I caught today!"

"Something tells me you're about to tell us," Wilbur says. He crosses his arms and grins at Techno, as if they're in on this together. Techno smothers a cough into his elbow.

"Well, now I'm not telling you," Tommy says with a scowl. He turns around to start walking home.

"Pity. How will we ever survive without this vital information." Wilbur's tone is light and teasing, making Tommy huff in dismay. When Wilbur reaches out to take Tommy's hand, he pulls away from his older brother's grip.

Techno kind of walks after them awkwardly and watches this go down.

"Tommy," Wilbur says, "give me your hand."

Tommy raises his chin defiantly. "I don't think I will."

"Are you trying to piss me off?" Wilbur asks - a rhetorical question but going by the glint in Tommy's eye, Techno thinks he can guess what the answer is. "You know the rules."

"I don't want to hold your hand." Tommy skips back over to Techno's side. "I want Techno to hold my hand instead."

Techno blinks, surprised to suddenly find himself involved in the exchange. "What?" Tommy tries to make a grab for his hand, but Techno holds his arm against his side and away from the warm skin threatening to make contact with his own.

"I have to hold Tommy's hand while walking home from school because Mom and Dad think he'll run into the road otherwise," Wilbur says casually. "They say it's dangerous because the sidewalk isn't very wide and they'll be pissed if they find out."

Techno turns his head to find Tommy looking up at him with the poorest attempt at puppy dog eyes he's ever had the misfortune of witnessing. It knocks some thoughts loose in his head that Techno quickly tucks back into the darkest corners where they belong. Tommy's bottom lip trembles sadly at his refusal to hold hands.

"Are you really going to run out into the road?" Techno asks.

"Maybe," Tommy says - as if he hasn't quite decided if bodily throwing himself under a moving vehicle is in the cards yet, though it definitely doesn't sound entirely out of the question.

With a sigh, Techno reluctantly offers up his hand. He immediately cringes at Tommy's fingers curling around it. Great, now his hand is going to be all sweaty and gross by the time they get home.

"I don't get why you couldn't just hold mine," Wilbur grumbles half-heartedly. He slows down so he can keep pace next to Techno again, but shoots daggers at Tommy from behind Techno's back.

"Techno is like, way cooler than you." Tommy keeps squeezing his hand. Techno has to resist the urge to pull free again. But that'd just make things more awkward. "He's super smart, that's why he takes all the special classes. He can fight with swords and he plays violin and-"

"Wait, hold up." Wilbur tilts his head. "What are you talking about?"

"I snuck into Phil's office to read Techno's file," Tommy says proudly. Techno feels nausea settle heavy in his gut.

"I don't think that's legal," he mutters softly. The joke doesn't really ease his tension, nor is it loud enough for either of the other two to overhear.

"You used to play violin?" Wilbur asks loudly.

"Uh, kinda," Techno says. Tommy is holding his hand so tight he wants to pull it away and rub it across something else, to get rid of the weird tingling.

"And swordfighting?"

"Fencing," Techno corrects. "I used to fence. I wasn't very good."

"He won a lot of tournaments," Tommy says with excitement. "It's really cool. Did you get trophies? Where are they?"

Techno looks at the cracks in the pavement with ever-increasing interest. His face is burning bright enough the tips of his ears are probably red at this point. Ugh, why does it all have to be so embarrassing? Why can't Wilbur and Tommy be like any other foster siblings he's ever had, who didn't give a crap about Techno or what he did with himself?

"You don't play the violin anymore?" Wilbur continues to prod.

Techno manages to give him a deadpan stare. "I don't have a violin anymore."

"The school might have some. The band is always looking for new members." Wilbur studies his face, searching for something. Techno's thumb presses into his hand so hard he can feel the nail dig into his flesh.

"See! I told you Techno is way cooler than you." Tommy laughs and it successfully distracts Wilbur from his intense scrutinizing.

"Hm, the guitar is just as cool. Trust me."

When they reach the driveway, Techno rips himself free from Tommy's hold and runs into the bathroom. Wilbur shouts something behind him but he doesn't care, locking the door and opening the faucet to run cold water over his hand until the skin goes numb with it. His nerves send pinpricks of almost pain into his arm and Techno relishes it.

Swallowing brings the feeling of leaves and thorns burrowing into his lungs.


"How was your first day of school?" Phil asks as soon as he steps foot into the kitchen. It really is a constant interrogation with these guys.

"It was fine," Techno says. He opens a cupboard and reaches for a glass, purposefully avoiding the blue one they got him. When he goes to fill it at the tap, Phil is still smiling at him, perhaps waiting for an elaboration.

Techno drinks his water to postpone having to answer for a few precious seconds more.

"I met Wilbur's friends," he adds eventually. Because that's about all Techno can remember about today.

Phil hums - a pleased little sound before he returns to stirring the food he's making. "Have you thought about afterschool clubs?"

"Not really," Techno admits.

"Good, because I actually have a better idea."

Techno's fingers curl harder around the glass, waiting for whatever is about to come out of Phil's mouth next. His mind is cast back to previous foster families, forcing him into activities he hated with tepid smiles and promises that it's all for his own good. They only wanted him to be the best version of himself he could be. Why would Techno make everything so difficult?

This was usually where the placement started to fall apart.

"I think we should go and get you a library card," Phil says.

There is a voice in the back of Techno's head that sounds suspiciously like Sam, that is currently chiding him for always expecting the worst. Techno would like to remind that voice that experience is the best teacher.

"I saw you eye the books in my collection the other day," Phil continues, looking at him expectantly. Gauging if this is an okay thing for him to bring up. Techno hopes his cringing isn't too obvious. If anything, this family is proving he's not as subtle as he likes to think he is. "You're free to borrow them after asking, of course. But since you mentioned getting those other ones at a library too, I figured it would be a nice idea."

Techno puts his now empty glass down on the counter. "Sure," he says. "Can I go outside for a bit?"

Phil's expression softens. "Yeah, of course. You don't need to ask, mate."

That has to be a line Techno's heard a million times before. He has learned not to trust it.

Outside, the late spring air is a lot more bearable than the stuffy kitchen he left behind. Everything about the house feels like that, as if it's choking the very air out of Techno. Like he's caught in a snare that keeps tightening with every twitch of his struggling body. Maybe the bunny analogy is starting to hold more water than Techno wants it to.

He hasn't answered Sam, at this rate he doesn't think he can.

"Oh, hey Techno." Kristin is kneeling in a patch of earth to the left of the porch. She's wearing a sunhat, the kind that's kept on by a ribbon that ties beneath the chin. She grins at him. "How was school?"

Techno tries not to scowl. He gives her the same answer he did Phil. "It was fine."

She examines his expression a moment longer then turns back to her gardening with a soft chuckle. Not for the first time, Techno wishes he knew what Kristin finds so funny all the time.

There's dirt under her nails. Techno has only seen one other person work in the garden before, the man hired at one of his former placements. He wore gloves. But Kristin shifts the petals around with her bare hands, careful as can be while pulling the weeds from the ground.

"Do you want to help?" she asks.

Techno kneels beside her. "No."

Kristin laughs again. "You just enjoy watching, then?"

"Sometimes," he says. He puts a hand over his chest, feeling the heart that's beating somewhere beneath his sternum. And if he tries really hard, he can almost imagine he can feel the roots tearing into him too. "I just like flowers."

"I do too," Kristin says brightly. "Do you have a favorite?"

Techno shakes his head. He doesn't know what he's doing. He doesn't-

"How long have you guys known I was going to come to live here?" he hears himself ask. It's a bad idea.

"Sam told us about you around four months ago," Kristin answers. "I remember because it was right after the new year."

Techno doesn't want to touch the earth, because he knows the little particles will bother him and he won't be able to get rid of that feeling for a while. And he doesn't want to cry either, but his eyes are already burning. So he blinks a few times and then stands up.

"I'm going back inside."

When he walks away, he purposefully pushes his heels into the ground and tramples a few of Kristin's flowers - in a way where it can be taken as being an accident though. Her slight gasp chases him all the way up to his room even if the guilt it brings with it pales in comparison to the pain of his every breath.


Sleeping in his new bed has only become slightly easier over the past week, but Techno has accepted that he'll never be a very deep sleeper anyway. When the door to his room cracks open, he wakes up. The light falling into his eyes from the hallway isn't helping matters any.

There's a shadowy shape that tiptoes its way across the room and then Tommy is standing next to Techno's bed.

Techno offers a noise that's half confusion and half apprehension. He's not an idiot, he knows why little kids sneak into your bedroom at night. Predictably enough, he can see the tremble of Tommy's lip that he's stubbornly trying to hide and the anxious way he clenching his hands.

"I had a nightmare," Tommy says.

Despite how much he knows it's a bad idea, Techno sighs and scoots until his back hits the wall. He doesn't lift the blanket and there's a small sense of relief when Tommy doesn't crawl under it either. He just lies on top of the sheet, but close enough that Techno can feel it dip the mattress and Tommy's slight shaking as he curls up next to him.

Techno has had foster siblings in previous placements, though he never was any good at this part. He usually was kicked out of the house long before they started to see him as a big brother or anything.

The knowledge that Tommy and Wilbur consider him one already is… Techno doesn't know what it is, except bad. Very bad.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks awkwardly after a moment - because he can't sleep like this and Tommy is just lying there miserable and on the verge of crying, rubbing at his face.

Tommy shakes his head.

Techno swallows, tense. "Should I get Wilbur?"

It's almost a plea. Pawning Tommy off on Wilbur, for whom everything about being an older sibling seems to come naturally and effortlessly, sounds pretty tempting. Techno doesn't get why Tommy came to his room instead of Wilbur's in the first place.

Not until Tommy shakes his head again, breathe hitching a bit when he whispers softly. "I think he's mad at me."

"Wilbur?" Techno asks. "Why?"

"Because I was being a bitch earlier." Tommy is facing him and when he pulls up his knees they dig into Techno's stomach, almost. He doesn't complain. "Maybe he's pissed, I don't know. I'm not exactly jumping to find out he doesn't want me around anymore."

Sam's words echo in Techno's head, about how Tommy has had difficulty with placements before. In the darkness of the room, it doesn't feel as difficult to speak up.

"That's not going to happen here."

Tommy frowns at him, unconvinced. "What?"

"They're not going to send you away," Techno tells him. "Wilbur adores you. He's like, a massive dork about it actually. He talked about you to his friends during lunch today."

"Really?" Tommy asks, sounding more hopeful than skeptical.

"He did. So don't worry about it. You can just hold his hand again tomorrow."

Tommy crawls a little closer to him, Techno tries pushing himself against the wall more but he can't exactly phase through it. Would be nice, though. Tommy is looking at him with those stars in his eyes again, the ones that make Techno feel crowded and sick.

"I liked holding your hand though," Tommy promises. Techno thinks it's supposed to be a compliment, or make him happy somehow.

His chest hurts so bad a pained groan almost slips out.

Soon after, Tommy falls asleep again. And Techno stays there, waiting until he can see the first filtering of sunlight through his curtains. He manages to get out of bed without waking the younger boy up and sneaks out of the room and into the bathroom.

There, he sinks onto the tiles again so he can puke his lungs out once more.

Techno has gotten oddly used to how much it hurts. The stabbing and tearing and ripping at his soft tissue makes the corners of his eyes sting, but it doesn't shake him to his very core like it used to. And he's not at all surprised to find the yellow stalks undercut with small round flowers of pale purple, edges clung thick with his blood.

He uses his phone to look up what these flowers are when he's done. Dianthus. Admiration, it reflects back at Techno from his screen. His head is pounding.

Techno flushes these gifts from his supposed 'brothers', then wipes his mouth and goes downstairs.


"What do you need?"

Schlatt's voice is deep and grave. His question comes before Techno can even open his mouth. He glances over both shoulders but it's between classes. There's nobody else around.

It only took three days for Techno to find out where the senior student hangs out behind the school, smoking on a bench.

"Come on, I don't have all day," Schlatt snaps at him. "Is it Adderall? You seem like the overachiever type." He barks a laugh as if it's humorous.

"Do you have anything that works against Hanahaki disease?" Techno asks.

Schlatt peers at him for a moment, dark eyes narrowed. Smoke curls from between his pursed lips. "Do I look like that kind of doctor, kid?"

"Not a cure," Techno says. "Anything."

Sensing his hesitancy, Techno sighs and reaches into his pocket. Back in the day, he was always preparing for the eventuality of being kicked out. So he has quite a bit of cash saved up. Most of it was stolen from other foster parents or the caretakers in the group home.

So he has no shame in throwing about three hundred bucks worth of bills on the bench next to Schlatt.

After a sharp exhale, Schlatt takes a drag of his cigarette. Then he nods. "I can get you something. You'll need an inhaler."

"I'll take care of it," Techno says. He knows where Wilbur's backup inhalers are. "How long?"

"Meet me here tomorrow," Schlatt says while collecting his reward. "Don't be late."