Hi friend again. I am very busy with job seeking and graduation, so I might not be able to translate it now. The story is finished, and I am writing a new one. The following translations are all from Google without revision or proof-reading.
"I don't need a name, I live happily without a name. Because we are monsters without names."
Kali kali, gurgling, crunching, gurgling. The little boy ate the monster that went west.
He finally got the name, but there was no one who could call him. —"MONSTER"
Chapter Two: Alias
Backup woke up in L's room, wisps of sunlight seeping in from under the heavy black curtains, hurting his eyes. He lacked the natural desire for this light, and the nightmarish scene still remained before his eyes.
L is not by his side.
With the confusion of just waking up, B looked around the room: books, grocery boxes, lockers, round wooden tables, tool boxes, chemicals, knives, piles of documents, stacks of paper, all on the shelves in the laboratory. besides...
There was a half-eaten piece of cake on the table.
—I feel dizzy and can't use my arms...
This actually happened before falling asleep. L half-crouched in front of him, holding a pink pill between his two fingers, inviting him to swallow it.
"what is that?"
"Eat it."
Unquestionable urging. "Otherwise, you can't sleep and you can't stay here."
Even though B refused, the medicine was still placed on the base of his tongue by L. L forced him to close his mouth and swallow. It actually still tastes like strawberry...
was B's last thought. He couldn't even remember the time or the way he fell asleep, like a wild animal that had been shot with anesthetic and was unconscious.
That pill makes his brain still unable to function. He used all his strength to get up from the tatami.
L's room lacked necessary furniture. Except for the black curtains to block the sun, it was empty and dazzling white. Artificial lights emit an uncomfortable white light. It's reminiscent of a metal base or the underground - no, a laboratory. The books and documents piled half high on the wall are research materials; the bottles and jars stacked on the cabinet are research drugs, labeled with chemical names that even B doesn't recognize. A camera was placed in the corner of the wall, recording everything with aloofness and indifference, overlooking the boy with red eyes and his white clothes.
Even the clothes were put on by L before going to bed.
"Oh..."
For a moment, B thought L was no longer here.
But he caught a glimpse of black hair. L stood in the shadow behind the curtain, his feet standing in the morning light. He was hunched like a ghost and motionless.
Black eyes stared at him silently.
"you're awake."
B suddenly felt horrified, not only from L's gaze, but also from the aura around the young man - and his eyes as if he were looking at some prey. Backup shuddered, then smiled brightly.
"L—" This name was told to him by the young man himself. "I'm glad to see you again."
—This means that the pink pill is not poison. Although his limbs are still weak now.
"Come on." L said succinctly, walking towards the door. The boy followed.
They walked through the creaky corridors and down the soft-fur-cushioned stairs. This is an old house, but the atmosphere is strangely warm, and it doesn't even look like it's located in a slum. Thanks to the warm sunshine, even L, who exuded a hollow and cold aura, became warm and normal. When he walked here, it felt like he was walking in his real home. B has no intention of seeing anyone outside. Walking past the slightly peeling wall, he scratched it intentionally or unintentionally with his nails.
The house marked with a red X is about to be demolished. Before going to bed, L once mentioned.
But its current owner is L. How this child, who looked to be only a teenager, rented, bought, or borrowed the right to live in it was unknown to Backup, but L owned it legally and even named it:
The Freedomhouse.
It is said to be willing to take in any homeless minor. Therefore, children who have run away from home, children who have escaped from juvenile detention centers, and children who have families but are not taken care of can stay here. If the temporary stay exceeds seven days, you can continue to live as long as you pay a certain fee.
The person who checks whether the residents are qualified is L.
—In short, it is more like a temporary refuge and provides help to the children nearby. Occasionally, there will be visitors from out of town who ask to stay after hearing the reputation, and local parents who lack energy and leave their children to play here.
"Freedom House is not a nursery..." Obviously, L rejected most people. Backup suspected that he was just out of boredom, or that it was too wasteful to enjoy such a big house by himself, so he only allowed acquaintances to move in out of personal friendship.
But it's ridiculous enough, an orphan, in the middle of a slum, and an old house waiting to be demolished...
Kara.
The black-haired boy opened the cupboard and took out a sugar bowl. Then he opened the refrigerator and took out an excessive amount of desserts. Under Backup's surprised gaze, he held (rather than held or carried) both ends of the plate as if he disliked touching it, and walked to the center of the deserted restaurant. The way he put the napkin under the dessert plate and put the other half on his lap was very civilized, but the way he ate it was very barbaric, like a wolf that had been hungry for three days.
Of course Backup also noticed the weird sitting posture. L curled up his legs and put his knees under his chin. He voraciously consumed the cakes, macarons, and honey crepes on the table, but did not leave a drop of cream in his mouth (he patiently licked it off). B also noticed that L liked to play before eating. He flattened the cream cake, cut the donuts into twenty regular pieces, and let the sugar granules spin and dance on the plate, thus maintaining such a high eating speed. . B looked at him blankly and in amazement. He was completely attracted and even forgot about his own hunger.
"strawberry."
The boy picked up a red fruit and stood it upright in front of B's eyes.
The boy raised his eyebrows, obviously confused. The strawberry was similar in color to his eyes, but B was not aware of L's inner thoughts on complicated issues such as the genetic theory of pupil color and the principle of light reflection, and thought that L was inviting him to eat it. But before he opened his mouth, the strawberry entered L's mouth.
"..."
B's smile dimmed a little. "I don't like sweet," he said, emphasizing, "No, I hate sweet."
"These are not for you." L said as he put more fruits dipped in honey into his mouth.
He was playing with a cherry on the cake tower like an insect, and his serious expression reminded B of a scientist facing experimental materials.
"Well... why is there no one here?" B asked. "Where are the kids?"
"They're next door."
"Then why so quiet?"
"With me here, they dare not speak."
Wait—what? As if nothing had happened, L turned the cherry around in his mouth and spit out the core and stem. "This restaurant exists for me too. They can't use it. So Backup, you should be grateful."
"To you? Impossible!" The boy's expression twisted and he said, "You know, you are really arrogant."
L didn't speak anymore and enjoyed the food silently. B felt a burst of anger in his heart - to be honest, in the past few years, he has never met someone who deserves to be beaten so much. I learned this last night, but did L's bad personality really not bring him any punishment?
B thought... As they walked through the corridor, the children there gave way; as they crossed the living room, the children stopped talking and looked at L with a look of frightened respect - as if he were The dean who barges into the classroom during a self-study class, or the absentee chairman at a business meeting. God, is he some kind of king...dictator?
"They are afraid of you," B said affirmatively. "But why? I thought you were the director of the orphanage, but they look at you like you've been bullied."
L's chewing motion paused for a moment. He never seemed to realize that this would be a problem.
"I didn't do anything."
"It's a matter of eyes." The boy said as if he was already very familiar with him. He suddenly moved closer to L, capturing L's lifeless black pupils with his scarlet eyes, "If mine is reminiscent of the God of Death, then you - are ghosts. It looks like it will eat them at any time. Ogre ."
B said seriously, while looking as sharp and scary as possible, but L had no intention of flinching.
"You're interrupting my meal," he said. "Shut up B."
here we go again! This bastard has never spoken a word to him since he was born. Maybe those children were either afraid of him or simply hated him, so they banded together to isolate him.
"What can you do," B stood up suddenly, danger flashing in his eyes, "kick me out?"
"..."
It seemed that L still wanted to have breakfast quietly, so he ignored the boy. He ate slowly, probably half full, spending more time licking the cream on his fingers and sucking on them. That look made the already irritable B feel even worse - and L didn't even prepare his breakfast...
"I hate sweets, but you can try it." He snatched the half-bitten donut from L's hand and took a big bite as if in revenge. Then..."Ugh...poof! Oops! What a disgusting thing!"
L's face darkened.
B feels happy.
Therefore, every time the boy picked up a new piece of dessert, he would snatch it away, taste it with pretense of enjoyment, and then spit it on a tissue with disgust. L's face was getting darker and darker, but he could barely stop smiling.
Angry L. Why didn't you realize how interesting this activity was before?
Maximizing his talents, when B sat down, he curled up his legs and arched his back, imitating L's sitting posture in a more exaggerated posture. He imitated L's movement of holding a fork between his index finger and thumb, and even gave up his habit of playing with food before eating. L warned him with cold eyes, and B used red eyes without fear. Looking back in return.
L was really annoyed.
The boy tried to put a piece of cream on the side of his face, and L's fist flew out at the same time, hitting him in the center of the face.
Backup fell down... but didn't fall because he blocked the blow with his arm. He exclaimed: "This is not fair! I played a prank on you and you beat me up!"
"Nothing is fair." As soon as L finished speaking, B kicked his chair hard, and the fragile furniture creaked. B knocked it over, but L had already jumped down.
"You." The black-haired boy said threateningly, "Stop it."
"Stop? Why stop? Can't L beat me?" The boy leaned on the back of the chair and laughed mockingly, "I haven't avenged yesterday's revenge yet, but you were the first to take action! And you fed me those ghost pills? Deliberately making me weaker, for what?! To maintain the bully's advantage?"
Maybe L should have thought before agreeing to let him in, that a child with blood and red eyes was definitely not normal, but he realized it too late and had no time to regret it. B kicked over the chair, overturned the cake plate, and struggled with him.
If you don't use violence to teach you, you will definitely not remember it for a long time.
The splash of cream still stained L's face, and the smell of blood that couldn't be washed away from the boy's body made it difficult for him to breathe. The second battle came so quickly. He was using instinct rather than reason to fight back against B's kicks and kicks. Then he took advantage of his physical strength to push the crazy boy to the ground. B grabbed him by the collar, and he hit him on the head with a headbutt.
"Oh!"
L looked at it from above, watching with dark eyes - a cat that was jumping up and down to cause trouble finally became quiet, or a ridiculous baby finally stopped crying - he looked at the child, showing more anger than anger. Showing a kind of contemplative forbearance. L didn't want to take revenge yet, until...
B raised his knee and kicked him in the crotch.
...Real murderous intent flashed across L's face, and he pushed B to the ground and beat him severely.
Although B's body was more flexible, he had the upper hand in the contest of strength - not to mention his age - the one-sided beating continued until he crossed his arms, protected his head, and uttered staccato moan. B is still laughing wildly at the unusual sense of satisfaction:
"Gah...gahaha!"
And L had no idea why he was smiling.
"Gahaha! Gahaha! Kacahaha!"
He looked like he was completely crazy - but wasn't that what he was to begin with?
L was confused, no one would normally make him so confused. B's laughter was almost masochistic, but it turned into joy as he hit harder. This forced L to stop.
When he saw the boy with a bruised nose and face, he burst out laughing like crying. L grabbed his arm that was covered by long sleeves and pulled off the sleeves. A row of scars was revealed there.
oh.
—When I helped him change clothes yesterday, I didn't pay attention to this.
Starting from the wrist to where the upper and lower arms meet, there are dense knife marks. Deep into the skin, it still looks brand new. It's unimaginable that nails can create such an effect. They were injured by sharp objects...
"L." Backup looked like he wanted to pull his hand away, but couldn't. He smiled strangely and said: "If you eat too much refined saccharin, it will increase the risk of cardiovascular and cerebrovascular diseases, diabetes and heart infarction by at least 60%."
"..."
"So, eat less." The strange smile finally faded from the corners of his mouth.
—Did he steal my food just to make me eat less...? L was stunned by this guess. However, his words and actions are completely different things...
The black-haired boy tried to pull the boy up from the ground, but the latter's limp legs had no support and he was shaking even when he was half-kneeling. L remembered the kick he had just given, and he grabbed B's arms and pulled them open like a sack.
"Can you still stand up?"
"certainly."
B stood up, although he could only walk tremblingly and with a limp.
Not guilt at all. It was he who provoked me first. L watched silently as he could stand, then let go of his hand.
The remains of cakes and cream were scattered on the ground, and it was a mess. It was annoying enough, but it was obvious that B was not going to help clean it up. He's a weird, nasty, disgusting guy, and he can't be allowed in here again.
"L..." Backup groaned, "Is there nothing you can give me to eat?"
"If you mean something that's not sweet, no."
"What?!" B shouted, "You are so cruel to me."
Despite this, he picked up the remains of the dessert on the table, stuffed it into his mouth, and chewed it.
This time B didn't spit it out. He just complained endlessly: "Too sweet, too sweet, they are too sweet..."
This is an American-style house with red bricks and white walls and a peaked roof, with a total of three floors. Its full name is the Freedom House for Displaced and Homeless Children.
As they walked down the corridor, Backup stared intently at L's back, as if he wanted to burn a hole there.
The young man stepped on the wooden corridor with bare feet, completely unaware of the crisis behind him. So the boy walked closer and closer to him, aimed at L's most vulnerable lumbar spine, and raised his leg—
He kicked it out with all his strength, but L seemed to have eyes on his back. His body bent incredibly. At the same time, he put his left hand behind his back and grabbed the attacking right foot, wrapped his fingers around the joints, and then rotated.
"Hold!"
The boy heard a bruise on his ankle.
Click—that's the sound. The pain spread from there. L pulled lightly and he fell down. L rubbed his hands to shake off some invisible dirty dust. His hands then retracted into the wide, ill-fitting pure white sleeves.
"You've hurt me enough!" Backup yelled, glaring at L angrily.
"You are the one who provokes me first every time."
L's tone was devoid of remorse. The flaxen-haired boy was lying on the ground, his chest rising and falling, breathing heavily. Damn it - why is L so good at fighting and why does he win every time?
At this time, Backup still doesn't understand why the children in Freedom House are afraid of L. L was able to take them all down effortlessly.
"Ah...ah...um...it hurts." B, who has a certain understanding of human anatomy, knows that the injury does not reach the bones and it will only take a few hours to heal. . So, L still showed mercy.
The young man stretched out his hand towards him. "stand up."
L forcibly pulled him up, but B was still lying on the ground like an octopus. The boy's messy flaxen hair and his dirty cheeks were covered with a layer of earth color.
"Backup," L instructed, "you are responsible for cleaning the kitchen in the afternoon, otherwise, I won't give you food tomorrow."
"What?!"
"Use disinfectant when cleaning the table. Throw the tablecloths in the washing machine. Mop the floor. The cleaning equipment is in the cabinet. When you're done, call me to check."
The boy raised his neck and looked at him in disbelief: "Am I your servant? No, I won't do it."
"This is not a question of whether you are willing or not." L lowered his eyelids and said in a low and monotonous voice, "You have to do it. You'd better prove that you are of some use to me, so that you can stay here."
"So why do I have to stay?"
"Then get out."
Backup froze for a moment, then yelped as L's toes stepped on his phalanges, applying downward pressure. Why...? ! L looked at the bottom of the stairs, where the door of Freedom House was, signaling him to climb out quickly if he didn't want to.
He tried to pull his hand, but L didn't move.
Only then did B know that L was angry. L doesn't show any special expression when he's angry, and even looks like he's not awake. Only the low pressure emanating from his whole body seems to be destroying the world.
"...I don't want to leave."
"I'll do it," said B. "I'll do it, L..." he pleaded.
L finally raised his feet.
The boy gasped. My whole body hurts, especially my fingers. He clenched his small hand into a fist, and the stepped part was already red. He gazed at it as he gazed at a dead flower, or freshly scabbed blood from a human vein. Wait until it turns into a bruise before you can live again.
"Wait for me."
L had already left, and B followed quickly and diligently.
—He crawled on all fours, supporting the ground with his elbows and knees. His butt swayed like a huge insect, and his furry head seemed to be pulled by the boy.
His flaxen soft curly hair clung to his ears. His scarlet eyes followed each step up the stairs, and his limbs swayed accordingly, but because of the strange incoordination - always moving with the same hands and feet - compared to crawling, It looks more like squirming. He didn't feel uncomfortable about it, but rather comfortable, his moans soothed and a nervous, bright smile appeared on his face.
Although people who are useless to L cannot stay in the Freedom House, in Backup's opinion, none of the children playing in the front yard are more useless than him.
They played a childish game of hopping, sticking their bodies together and running around the wall, competing to see who could circle the building's exterior faster. They play and play like real children, not orphans. The boy who saw this from the window was almost furious.
Orphans are supposed to be withdrawn and surly, not like them. However, what made him even more angry was that L allowed those children to run freely but did not allow B to go out. He was looking forward to it at the window. L came over and closed the curtains.
"L," L was not interested in the trees rustling in the autumn wind, the children exuding youthful vitality, or the lawns and shrubs under their feet. L adopted his usual sitting posture, squatting in the dark room again, without even turning on the light. He stared at B, but it didn't seem like he really saw B because his black pupils were diffuse.
"Why do you always have curtains covering the windows in your room?"
The thick curtain reminds people of a theater curtain. The greenery outside the house is obviously so beautiful, and the lawn is dotted with small white wild flowers. "Do you hate nature?"
"It affects my thinking."
"Daylight?" B said, "Then your favorite must be the prison cell."
In that narrow, dark place, there were only pale artificial lights, no vegetation, and no people.
"And you?"
"I don't know. You have to go in at least once to know." B said, smiling mysteriously: "I thought I was already there."
Aren't the single cells tied by iron bars the same as here?
"I didn't allow you to leave." L said.
"I know."
"...Then tell me more about Freedom House." B said. L suddenly grabbed his hand, and he was shocked. L didn't look like he was going to hit him, he was just looking at the place he had stepped on this morning. Backup pretended that nothing happened and continued: "Why do these children have nowhere to go? Why did you agree to them staying? Why...are they all afraid of you? Hiss..."
B's hand is fine, but his arm is in much worse condition. That's not L's fault, B was scarred before coming to Freedom House. The irregularly arranged incisions were as deep as if they were about to cut off the arm, and some were infected, with dark purple abscesses appearing surrounded by a circle of coagulated blood. If the scabs weren't so thick, they would have been printed on the white shirt L gave him, leaving blood spots like pandas.
"Freedom." L said lightly, "It means it doesn't matter who leaves at any time."
"No, I'm not asking about this, that..."
Could it be that—L wants to open these wounds? B sensed this meaning from the boy's abyss-like gaze.
"You can leave if you want."
"I never said that! I told you I had nowhere to go!"
Because they are enemies...right? Because their relationship is very bad, because... L hates him... The wounds that seem disgusting to B themselves may be the same as squirming blood worms. But L's waiting and watching may also convey another meaning: he looked at them as if he were looking at red strawberries and cherries, a kind of sticky red jam, sweet and edible... He is very likely Bite down.
An ogre gnawing at his flesh appeared in front of the boy's eyes. Although the L did not have red eyes, when he raised his head, there was still blood on the mouth from the internal organs of the corpse he had just swallowed. So, will L eat his eyes...?
"Then stay." L said in a smooth voice. "Seven days. Backup, you have six days and seven hours."
Wow, that's really strict. "Can't I pay to stay longer?"
"cannot."
It lasted long enough for Backup to think that L was really going to bite him, so L suddenly let go of him. When the boy came back, he was carrying a small medical kit. Backup looked at him in horror: "What...are you going to do!?"
"disinfect."
"No! I hate alcohol! It makes me hurt more! I don't want it!"
L said rigidly: "You have no right to refuse..."
L must hate him very much, so he wanted to punish him with alcohol. When he smelled the pungent smell, Backup froze. He wanted to push away L's hand holding the alcohol-stained cotton wipe, and also took the medicine kit away. Kicked over. L's eyes flashed with confusion - and this was not the first time he felt so confused - the boy in front of him struggled so fiercely that he could only overwhelm him like a beast and force him to fuck him. medicine.
"no no!"
"Why?"
The boy's head tilted.
"When they heal, new ones will appear. If they don't heal, they won't, won't get hurt again!"
The boy screamed. L had to use an awkward posture to clamp his knees with his legs and clamp his arms with his hands to make B hit the wall. He threatened lowly in his ear: "If you move again, I'll tie you up."
"..." B finally became honest. Relying on his more complete understanding of the human body and his self-taught knowledge of wound treatment, L pressed the alcohol deeply into the half-inch knife marks. B screamed like a slaughtered pig, and laughed like a mentally ill person. These sounds have the effect of a performance, making it impossible to judge his true condition.
Fortunately, L only needs to complete the task.
The same disinfection work was done on Backup's back and thighs. The boy collapsed on the ground, seemingly dying.
"Backup?" L called tentatively.
—It would be troublesome if he really died here. Freedom House is not in the business of moving bodies. Last night, when he was changing B's clothes while he was unconscious, he had already noticed those wounds. L doesn't think it's his duty. This is an informal, informal private organization, and its core principle is—
Within the permitted scope, we never ask about the identity and origin of visitors. As long as the children don't cause too much trouble, some cheap food is provided, and some soft sleeping bags are provided, that's enough. As a rule-maker, L will not violate his own rules.
He only asked the most basic questions.
Last night, a thorough shower washed away the blood from Backup's body. The water was unable to wash away the unpleasant smell on the boy's body, which made L frown. Even though he changed his clothes and took out a white shirt and blue jeans of the same style from a closet and asked B to put it on, he was still bothered by the smell. L fiddled with his dripping hair, narrowed his eyes, and then sprayed disinfectant directly on him.
"You bastard!" Backup jumped up immediately.
Because he had swallowed powerful sleeping pills, he lacked the strength to resist, and L had no intention of fighting with him. After five minutes, Backup was so sleepy that he couldn't keep his eyes open, and his feet went limp as soon as they touched the tatami. At this time, L asked:
"Why did you run away from home?"
Yes. Home - L was sure that he had a home. The clothes and shoes with labels showed that he came from a decent family, not an orphanage under the same management. Therefore, B escaped.
"...I don't have parents..."
Backup replied.
"But I'm not an orphan like you, L." He was not as afraid of his origins as others. "My distant relatives once wanted to adopt me, but gave up because of financial problems. I entered a shelter, and later, I was adopted by a family..."
"They have a daughter,"—his consciousness was no longer clear. He should have said, I have a sister. This distant title indicates that he is not close to his adoptive family. "She... is two years younger than me, is in poor health, she has been lying in bed, she..." he hesitated.
"Then let me ask another question." L said, "Why did you escape from your adoptive parents' home?"
"Because I hate them."
The boy became very excited. After a while, he calmed down and smiled slyly: "I hate them so much that I want to kill them."
His tone didn't sound like he was joking.
"What's your biological father's name?"
"Bason Birthday."
"Sounds like a fake name."
"I didn't lie..." He winced.
L said: "You don't seem to be that candid. People tend to tremble when they lie."
"That's because you sprayed alcohol on me. It evaporated and was very cold!" Backup yelled, "You also drugged me! I'm getting more and more dizzy, L!"
"..." L said calmly, "There is another possibility. You thought I thought you would lie, so you told the truth. Backup," he repeated, "Backup Birthday, this is your name ?"
"That's right."
The boy chuckled. Is this his way of disrupting people's thinking?
"I don't understand what's so important about a name...why do you have to ask repeatedly?"
"It's very important for the children here." L threw the alcohol cotton into the trash can, having given up on getting rid of the smell. "Let me tell you something important, Backup. I'd rather you lied."
Backup, Backup, Backup…
B still wanted to say something to him, but his consciousness was about to fall into darkness due to sleepiness. Before he fell asleep, he tried hard to look into L's eyes, trying to see the serious and cold face clearly, but he couldn't help but close his eyes.
L. Obviously L is not his real name. That was his last thought before he was forced into a deathly sleep.