Chapter 49: Mnesic necromancia
CW: Scars, mention of human trafficking, physical and mental abuse, derealization, eating disorder, child abuse, Dysmorphia, mild body horror (*)
"Look! Black truffle Pringles!"
Tetsurō looked up, shifting his gaze to Kōtarō.
"Oh sure, great idea. Didn't find any caviar-flavored ones while you were at it?"
His boyfriend failed to catch the sarcasm and replied,
"No, I didn't."
Tetsurō sighed.
"Babe no! Truffle seriously? Sounds disgusting!"
"How do you know? Have you ever tried truffle Pringles?"
"No."
"Then how do you know it's disgusting?"
"I don't need to..." Tetsurō inhaled deeply, "You don't even like truffles, why do you want to buy those!"
"What? Nah, I don't think so. I don't remember having truffles like, ever."
"What are you talking about? Remember that time at the Italian restaurant? You ordered pasta with truffles, and you ended up trading your plate with Kenma."
Kōtarō scrunched his nose, remembering that he indeed didn't like truffles at all, and put the pringles back.
"Okay, okay… How about this one then?"
He grabbed another bag from the shelf and showed it to Tetsurō, who made a face.
"Cheetos… pizza-camembert-curry? That's worse! Where did you even find this monstrosity?"
"Uh… right there," his boyfriend answered seriously, pointing to the shelf.
"No, but… Seriously, do you honestly think that sounds good?"
Kōtarō looked at the bag of Cheetos.
"Not really."
"Then don't suggest it!"
"But maybe someone else will like it!"
"No, I don't think so." Tetsurō snatched the bag and returned it to the shelf.
"Look, they have plain curry chips here."
"But I don't like those!"
"What do you mean you don't like curry? We ate curry yesterday!"
"Yeah, but not like that."
"You just picked pizza-camembert-curry! Why would you suggest curry chips if you don't like them?"
"Because I thought the camembert would mask the flavor."
"That's worse!"
"I'm just trying to find something different for once! Stop complaining and help me!"
"I'm not complaining!"
"Yes you are!"
"Because you have disgusting taste, is that my fault?"
"At least I'm trying!"
Their voices were starting to rise when Keiji suddenly appeared behind them. Without sparing them a glance, he stepped between them, extended his arms, and swept five random bags of chips from the shelf into his arms. Without a word, he turned and walked away.
Kōtarō and Tetsurō stared at him, dejected. Keiji tossed the chips into their cart and headed for the checkout. Midway, he backtracked, grabbed a bottle of wine, stuffed it into the cart, and rolled away. He stopped again, abandoned the cart in the middle of the aisle, and went back for a second bottle before heading back to the checkout line.
Kōtarō and Tetsurō exchanged a look, bewildered by their boyfriend's behavior. Out of options, they abandoned their quest for the perfect snack and followed him.
By the time they reached the cash register, Keiji was already unloading the groceries onto the conveyor belt. Kōtarō didn't hesitate to voice his dissatisfaction:
"You didn't even let us choose! You promised!"
Keiji did not so much as glance at him and continued placing items on the belt. Pouting, Kōtarō tugged on his sleeve and gave him his best puppy-dog eyes. With a sigh of defeat, Keiji finally relented:
"I did not promise anything Kōtarō… And if we do not hurry, we are going to miss the start."
Simultaneously, Tetsurō and Kōtarō glanced down at their phones: 7:45 pm.
"Damn it!" they both exclaimed.
"We are going to miss the start!"
"That is what I was just trying to tell you. I..."
They didn't even let him finish. In the same rushed movement, they shoved all the items into Kōtarō's backpack. When the total was announced, Keiji pulled out his wallet, performing each gesture with his usual elegance. Unfortunately for him, his boyfriends were in no mood to savor the poetry of his presence: Kōtarō snatched the wallet from his hands, pulled out his card, and tapped it on the reader. As soon as the machine confirmed the payment, the two goofballs bolted out of the store. Keiji watched them leave, exasperated. He sighed, politely bid the cashier goodbye, and hurried after them. He only caught up with them when he arrived on the subway platform. Both his boyfriends were hopping anxiously around.
He walked to them, very openly fed up with them.
"Keiji!" Kōtarō shouted when he spotted him, "Hurry up! We already missed the last train waiting for you!"
Keiji crossed his arms.
"I sure hope you waited for me."
He tapped his foot, waiting for an apology from his boyfriends, but abandoned the idea when he saw they weren't even looking at him. He sighed. Just as he was about to speak, the train arrived, and he found himself shoved inside by force.
"We're going to miss the start," Kōtarō whined, checking the time.
"That wouldn't have happened if you hadn't spent twenty minutes choosing snacks! Camembert-curry my ass!" Kuroo retorted, annoyed.
As Kōtarō was about to reply, Keiji growled, low enough so that only his boyfriends could hear him.
The other two finally looked at him, realizing they had upset him. They lowered their eyes, looking sheepish, and apologized. Keiji rolled his eyes.
"Kenma does not play until the third match. We still have some time."
This took the other two by surprise.
"Oh!"
"Really?"
"Yes..."
Kōtarō and Tetsurō exchanged a glance, then shrugged simultaneously.
"Well, I guess we can relax," Tetsurō said, taking a seat.
"You could've told us earlier!"
"When? When you two left me in the middle of the store?"
Kōtarō didn't even pick up on that and sat down next to Kuroo.
When they arrived at CATO, everyone was already there. The couches had been moved to the center of the room, and everyone was crowded behind the projector, watching the OLF game stream projected on the wall in front of them. The voices of the commentators blared through the speakers, barely audible over the chatter.
"Oi, there you are!" Sugawara exclaimed when he saw them.
"You missed the first match," Oikawa added.
"We had to wait for Keiji at the station," Kōtarō explained.
"Seriously?" Keiji said dryly.
"Yeah..."
Keiji rolled his eyes and walked past them to sit on the couch.
Kuroo and Bokuto sat on the floor beside Tsukishima and Yamaguchi, both of whom were fully geared up in Appelpie's mech, watching the screen intently.
"Who won?" Kuroo asked.
"The Russians," Iwaizumi replied.
"Nitro's team," Yamaguchi clarified, eyes still glued to the screen. "But hush, the second match is about to start!"
"Who's playing now?"
"Shhh!" Yamaguchi and Tsukishima hissed.
The silence lasted a few seconds.
"No, but seriously, who is it?" Kōtarō whispered.
"I think it's the Japanese against the French... and the Brazilian teams," Nishinoya answered.
"Kenma's not playing yet?" Oikawa asked.
"No, next match."
"Oh, okay."
"Shhhh!"
Everyone tried to stay quiet. It lasted approximately two minutes before the chatter started again. Kuroo tried to follow the game, but not knowing any of the teams, he quickly felt lost. Instead, he listened to Oikawa and Sugawara talking behind him. Sugawara was talking about one of the kids at his job, and the conversation was far too entertaining for Tetsurō to be able to focus on what was happening on the screen.
They finally fell silent again when Yamaguchi growled. From then on, he and his mate tolerated only questions directly related to the game.
The French team won, and everyone started talking again during the recap, much to Yamaguchi and Tsukishima's dismay.
However, they were all quickly silenced when the third match was announced.
"The next match already promise to be epic! Titans will face off in the arena! First up, we have the US team Vitenzi, and let me tell you, they're not here to kid around," announced the first commentator.
"Tell me about it! Vitenzi has been steadily rising this season, climbing to the top of the rankings with their phenomenal performance last week," added the second commentator.
"They literally bulldozed their way to the top! But they're not alone up there, and this match might be their toughest yet since they're going up against Massacre. And let me tell you, when it comes to these Scots, that name is anything but an exaggeration."
"Yeah, that's for sure. But let's not forget they're facing Thailand's team Holo, who aren't playing around either. They're absolutely merciless."
A 60-second countdown appeared on the screen.
"But let's not forget who's the real threat here, folks. For that we have a necromancer in this game. And not just any necromancer, mind you: the demon prince of the arena, the crowned king of the last three seasons. You guessed it, it's Appelpie."
Everyone screamed at the mention of their favorite.
"And let me tell you, he didn't earn his triple world champion title by baking pies!"
"Will he qualify and possibly go for a fourth victory? We're about to find out , it's starting now!"
The countdown hit zero, and the virtual arena finally appeared on the screen.
As usual, Kenma kept a low profile during the opening minutes of the game, analyzing the strategies of his opponents. Commentary buzzed rapidly, and both the audience and the players seemed to forget the necromancer's presence in the arena.
"Come on, come on, come on," Yamaguchi muttered, nervously tapping his thighs.
At the bottom of the screen, the kill counter for each team was growing. Kenma's count was still at zero.
Suddenly, Kenma made his first move, and a collective shout erupted when Applepie landed his first kill, immediately followed by a second.
"The reaper has awakened, and his wrath promises to be devastating!"
Kenma's screen started changing rapidly, switching between different characters so fast that even the commentators struggled to keep up. Four kills, still fewer than his opponents, but for Kenma, this meant he now controlled four players.
His victims tried everything to stop him from wreaking too much havoc, but their efforts were in vain. The American team made the critical mistake of leaving only one player to defend while focusing entirely on offense. Though the defender was skilled, Kenma easily overpowered him, attacking with one of his kill from the Thai team's.
The American attackers couldn't retreat to defend their base in time, Kenma had already left it in ruins.
"Yes! The first base is down! Things are looking good for our necromancer."
"But he needs to hurry to take down the other two. Holo is on the verge of defeating Massacre, which would immediately end the game."
"It's a race against time for our triple champion! Will he secure a spot in the finals for the fourth time, or are we witnessing the end of his reign?"
"Unfortunate for Vitenzi, who bet everything on brute force. They clearly underestimated the power of our triple champion."
The other two teams didn't make the same mistake and focused all their efforts on blocking the necromancer. Unfortunately for them, this only gave Kenma more time to build his forces. Massacre fell first. It was now four against one, with everyone determined not to give Kenma the upper hand.
With the defeat of the other teams, Kenma had far fewer pieces to control. The relentless frontal attacks from his opponents significantly slowed him down. The necromancer's health bar was critically low. If he died now, he wouldn't respawn after the cooldown, handing victory to his adversaries.
Kenma managed to escape their line of sight. Once out of their attack radius, he finally made his move. As his pursuers closed in, two players simultaneously lost control of their avatars, turning on their teammates and leaving the base undefended.
The action on-screen became nearly impossible to follow. The necromancer emerged from the chaos, pursued by his enemies. Kenma stopped near the enemy base, and just as the attackers aimed their strikes at him...
"And it's the final blow! The final blow! This is it!"
Nothing. The attack didn't even have time to launch; the last base had already fallen. The action unfolded so quickly that no one had fully grasped the outcome
"What the fuck happened?! Did we win?!" Yamaguchi pressed eagerly.
The arena disappeared, and the screen announced the necromancer's victory. Everyone around shouted and whistles, basking in their euphoria.
"And there we have it! Another win for Appelpie! He's not giving up his title that easily!"
"Appelpie qualifies for the fourth consecutive time, securing his place at the Nova Max Arena! And with the necromancer's victory, we are now heading straight for the finals, the last opponent will be decided with the next game."
Tsukki and Yamaguchi jumped to their feet, shouting and hopping around. Yamaguchi finally stopped, tears in his eyes, as his mate grabbed him, lifting him off the ground and spinning him around, both laughing uncontrollably.
"I didn't understand a thing, but that was great!" Sugawara exclaimed.
"We need to celebrate! Guys, tell Kenma to come!" Nishinoya yelled.
"There's still one more game before the end," Iwaizumi warned, visibly engrossed in the game.
Unfortunately for the remaining three teams, the general euphoria had distracted them too much to follow the final game. They only turned their attention back to the screen when the South Korean team was declared the winner. With three teams qualified and a necromancer in the mix, this meant there would only be one final sudden-death match to crown the tournament's champion, set to happen in just a few weeks.
"Alright, let's go celebrate!" Yuu repeated.
"We're not staying here?" asked Tanaka.
"No way. I don't want to get yelled at by the neighbors, and we're out of everything anyway!"
Kuroo finally turned toward the couch, noticing the astronomical number of empty chip bags scattered everywhere and the glass bottles cluttering the coffee table. His eyes landed on Keiji, holding a wine bottle. Keiji smiled at him, raised his bottle, and took a large gulp. Kuroo stared, exasperated. Keiji noticed.
"I haven't finished this one!"
Kuroo raised an eyebrow. Judging by Keiji's tone and the outrageously out-of-character way he addressed him, he'd likely downed the first bottle already. He mentally noted that he'd need to keep an eye on him.
Unfortunately, while the intention was noble, the execution was poor. Within an hour of resolving to stay sober, Kuroo was in an even worse state than Keiji. After Kenma's victory, the group had descended on a poor little bar whose staff hadn't anticipated the chaos that awaited them when they let them in. Kenma joined them shortly after they arrived, and they celebrated him like a living god.
Kenma initially struggled with being the center of attention, but he quickly warmed up to it. He was now standing on his chair, arms open wide to receive the boisterous cheers of the crowd.
"To your victory, demon prince of the arena! May you crush them in the finals!" Yamaguchi declared solemnly, like a Viking honoring the military feats of his warriors.
Kenma smiled.
"Oh I fully intend to."
The crowd cheered again. Their revelry was interrupted when the owner of the bar appeared.
"Gentlemen, we are closing. Please finish your drinks promptly."
Silence settled. They checked when they arrived, the bar wasn't set to close for another two hours. They were simply being politely thrown out.
Accepting their fate without protest, they downed the rest of their drinks and left.
"So, what now?" Yamaguchi asked.
"We... call it a night?" Sugawara suggested.
His idea was met with loud boos.
"Alright, alright, but where do we go then?"
"I don't know. We'll figure it out."
As they prepared to set off, Yamaguchi stopped them.
"Wait! We didn't pay, did we?"
"Too bad for them," Tsukishima muttered.
"We can't just do that... "
"Already took care of it," Kenma said, walking past them and holding up his credit card.
"No! It was supposed to be our treat!" Yamaguchi whined.
"All the more reason to keep going," Kenma replied.
Having long since abandoned all sense of decorum, Tetsurō cheered loudly, thrilled that his boyfriend was in such an extraverted mood (a rare occurrence). In a joyful burst, he rushed to embrace him. Kenma chuckled but returned the hug. He pulled away when the group finally began to move.
And so, they wandered the streets of Tokyo, chattering like children on a school trip.
Kuroo had bounced ahead to the front of the group to join Kōtarō.
Kuroo attention eventually drifted out, his gaze wandering to the storefronts around them. It was still early, barely 10:30 pm, and Tokyo's nightlife was starting to come alive. Lights twinkled everywhere, cutting through the haze of smoke rising from food stalls. The air was thick with smells and sounds.
As they passed by a restaurant, Kuroo stopped, thinking he'd spotted a familiar face through the glass. Kōtarō, walking behind him, didn't notice and bumped into him.
"Why did you stop?"
"Look!" Kuroo pointed at the figures inside.
"What about it?"
"Isn't that Yachi?"
Kōtarō squinted, trying to focus on the silhouettes behind the window.
"Pfft, I dunno. I never met her in real life before."
Before they could confirm, the young woman Kuroo had noticed moved out of sight. He sighed, disappointed.
"Never mind. Guess I was wrong."
"All right, let's keep moving, then!"
As they resume walking, the restaurant door swung open, and this time, Kuroo clearly recognized Yachi. He waved excitedly when she noticed him, like a child spotting a classmate on the playground.
"Yachi!"
The young woman smiled and bowed politely to greet him.
Thrilled, Kuroo trotted over to her but almost tripped.
"Oops, sorry, I'm a bit tipsy."
His confession seemed to amuse the blonde.
"Kenma won!"
"I saw," she signed, "I texted him earlier."
He smiled warmly.
"It's thanks to your hard work too. Thank you."
He bowed clumsily to express his gratitude, but nearly toppled over again. Luckily, Kōtarō caught him just in time. He didn't comment and simply introduced himself to Yachi.
As Kuroo was about to speak again (to try and salvage the little dignity he had left), the restaurant door opened again.
To his surprise, and then delight, he recognized Shimizu-san, the artist who had created Kenma's mask. Kuroo's gaze flitted back and forth between Shimizu and Yachi, which made the blonde blush.
When Shimizu finally noticed them, she greeted them politely.
Kuroo didn't respond right away, too busy scrutinizing the pair in front of him. A smile slowly spread across his face, and having long since abandoned any sense of social etiquette, he chirped:
"Oh! Are you two... you know?" He clasped his hands together to clarify.
Yachi turned bright red, hiding her face in her hands. After a moment, she nervously shook her head to deny it.
Just by looking at her, the answer was clear enough. Kuroo couldn't understand why she was trying to lie to him! Seeing her glance nervously around, he hypothesized that she felt that way because she didn't know how he would react. This logic was obviously flawed and borderline absurd, but he lacked the tact to realize that. Nevertheless, he decided to make it clear that he was not, in fact, homophobic, and the way he went about it was as absurd as his train of thought:
"Oh, wait, I'm... Look ! " he grabbed Kōtarō by the shoulders, presenting him with a badge of honor. "He's my boyfriend!"
That only seemed to confuse Yachi.
"And him too," Kuroo added, pointing to Keiji, standing a few steps behind them.
Yachi blinked several times, perplexed.
"I probably should've said so much..." Kuroo muttered.
The blonde waved her hands, trying to stop him from derailing further.
"No, no! I'm just surprised, I thought that you and Kenma were..."
"Oh, yeah, Kenma too!"
Kōtarō enthusiastically nodded in agreement.
Their childlike cheerfulness made the two women in front of them smile kindly.
"I see, I'm sorry, I didn't realize that..."
Yachi trailed off, her hands falling limply to her sides. Her expression drastically shifted.
She was frozen, paralyzed in a cold look of shock and fear.
Startled, Kuroo followed her gaze.
Behind them, Sugawara had stopped, staring at Yachi as though he had seen a ghost.
Sensing Yachi's distress, Shimizu immediately stepped in front of her, standing defensively between her and the prima. Sugawara didn't react. He didn't back away or try to diffuse the tension. He just stood there.
"Hey! Why don't we go to the karaoke? " Yamaguchi said as he reached Sugawara, his eyes glued to his phone. "There's one just around the corner."
Just as he was about to pass by, Sugawara grabbed him by the wrist.
"What? I thought you liked karaoke?"
Yamaguchi finally noticed Sugawara's expression. Confused, he followed his gaze, frowning when he noticed Shimizu standing in front of them.
Yachi leaned forward briefly before retreating behind the brunette. The second Yamaguchi spotted her, he froze.
His eyes widened.
"Hitoka?"
After a brief moment of silence, the blonde leaned forward once again. She placed a hand on Shimizu's wrist, and the latter stepped aside.
Yachi was now standing in front of them. She looked composed, but her breath was erratic.
The shock subsided, and Sugawara covered his mouth with his hand, stifling a gasp that almost sounded like a sob.
"Is it really you?"
Yamaguchi's voice was choked, his eyes glistening with tears.
Yachi inhaled deeply before nodding.
"Oh," Yamaguchi choked out, tears streaming down his face.
He rushed toward her, and Yachi opened her arms. They met in a fierce embrace.
"Oh my God, oh my God, I..."
Yamaguchi pulled back to look at her, gripping her shoulders as though she might disappear.
"I thought you were dead. I thought he..."
He didn't finish, instead pulling her into his arms again.
Yachi let him hold her before gently pulling away.
"I'm fine."
Yamaguchi watched her closely, and the blonde tried to reassure him again. Yamaguchi looked at her sign. A grim expression slipped onto his face.
"What did he do to you?"
It wasn't really a question; the tone was far too heavy and grim for it to be one. It was more like a dreadful statement.
Yachi gave him a sad smile. Slowly, she pulled her hands away from his and took a step back. She reached up to the collar of her sweater and slid her fingers underneath, revealing a swollen, pink scar circling her neck. She quickly covered it again.
Kuroo shuddered, unable to fathom what could have caused such a brutal injury.
Yamaguchi gasped, fresh tears welling up in his eyes.
"That bastard, I... I can't believe it, I swear I'll..."
Yachi cut him off.
"He didn't get me."
Yamaguchi's face twisted with grief and bitterness.
"Why didn't you... we could have... I should have been there. I'm sorry, I should have..."
The blonde shook her head firmly. She stepped forward and placed a hand on Yamaguchi's stomach. Their gazes locked, and they both knew what it meant.
Yamaguchi choked on another sob as Yachi pulled him back into her arms.
Finally, she looked up and met Sugawara's gaze. His face was streaked with tears. She smiled at him and waved softly. Without hesitation, he rushed over and joined the embrace.
-/-
The turmoil had sobered Tetsurō completely, and the same could be said for the rest of the group. The effervescence died down. Some decided to call it a night and go home, while others settled into a quiet bar.
Sugawara and Yamaguchi stayed with Yachi, the three of them sitting on a bench on the edge of a park near the bar, catching up on the time that had been stolen from them.
Tetsurō stayed outside, keeping company to Shimizu-san, or trying to anyway, somewhat feeling guilty for "ruining" her date like that.
He tried to strike up a conversation at first, but Shimizu only responded with short sentences and vague noises, too focused on the interaction unfolding before her as she kept an eye on what was happening.
He gave up on trying to lighten the mood and said:
"I didn't know they knew each other..."
Shimizu vaguely nodded.
"From what I gathered, they were raised by the same pack... at least for a while," she replied.
"Oh..."
Silence settled again.
Finally, the young woman turned to him.
"Kuroo-san, thank you for staying here with me. I'm afraid I wasn't the best company, but I appreciate the gesture. Thank you."
Kuroo nodded.
"I don't know how much longer this will take. You should head back home, it's getting late."
He nodded again and bid her goodbye.
He glanced one last time at his friends sitting in the park and turned.
He found Keiji and Kōtarō waiting outside the bar.
"You okay?" Kōtarō asked as he approached them.
"Hmm, I think so..."
The other two nodded.
"What are you doing out here?"
"Everyone left."
"Hmm... what about Kenma?"
"He went to get the car," Kōtarō replied.
About five minutes later, headlights illuminated the street, and Kenma stopped the car in front of the bar. They all quietly settled inside, and no one spoke for a long while, letting the silence blend into the night.
"I didn't know they knew each other," Kenma eventually said.
"Me neither," Kōtarō replied.
"They grew up in the same pack, apparently," Kuroo clarified.
He suddenly found three pairs of eyes on him.
"Really?"
"Yeah... is that so shocking?"
No one responded. Each looked away.
"Yachi isn't a Sô-shi, so... yes, it is a little surprising," Kenma finally said.
"Oh, I hope it is not... no," Keiji murmured under his breath, drawing the attention of his boyfriends.
Kōtarō and Kenma seemed to understand immediately what he was thinking, which only deepened Tetsurō's confusion.
"And? Why is that a problem? I mean, Yamaguchi isn't a Sô-shi either, and he was raised in the same pack."
Kuroo saw Kenma frown in the rearview mirror.
"Really?"
"Yeah..."
The blond raised his gaze, catching Kōtarō's eyes in the mirror.
"You knew?"
The latter simply nodded.
"Oh... Let us hope it is not... what we think it is then."
"Yeah..."
Silence fell, heavy and thick. Kuroo was starting to lose track of the conversation.
"And? What is it that you think it is?" he pressed.
The silence thickened.
"Well?"
Kenma exhaled deeply.
"Hum... well, at some point, Sô-shi packs were known to... well..." he sighed, "make deals with other clans."
Tetsurō frowned.
"What kind of deals?"
"Omega trades," Kōtarō replied, something bitter and glum lingering in his tone.
"What do you mean by 'trades'?"
"It means human trafficking Ji. Omegas were sold when the birth rate dropped too low. To make them... reproduce." Kenma explained grimly.
Kuroo's eyes widened, deeply shocked.
He thought of Yachi, all smiles in her long light blue coat, and the scar that curled around her neck.
His heart tightened painfully.
"I do hope that is not it..." Keiji murmured.
All three of them nodded, but none could say a word.
The night swallowed them whole with its stillness, and the grimness followed them home.
-/-*
He remembered the wind.
More than anything, he remembered the wind.
It blew through the wild grass and glided peacefully across the wheat field as far as his eyes could see.
He remembered the solitude too, his only solace some days.
No one ever came here.
Well, almost no one.
Even if he knew the exact boundaries of the territory, at the edge of the forest, when his eyes lost themselves in the vastness before him, he could feel free for a fleeting second.
"Eat."
The voice was cold, stern, and imperative.
The child looked at the food in front of him. His throat tightened.
The alpha sitting in front of him narrowed her eyes, her expression growing more somber.
He picked up his chopsticks and turned the food in his bowl. The rice made a wet, heavy sound that turned his stomach. He couldn't bring himself to swallow anything, he felt too sick.
The alpha sighed, exasperated.
"I can wait you know... eat."
The child didn't move, paralyzed with fear, feeling increasingly nauseous.
"Eat, damn it! Do you see yourself? Look at yourself! You're useless. You won't be able to carry children if you stay like this... pathetic, look at you!"
That was the idea...
He didn't look up, frozen by the alpha's crushing stare.
He felt the back of his throat itch as he fought back tears.
"Come on, be a good little boy and eat."
She spoke in a soft voice, making it even more terrifying. He couldn't hold on much longer and, shaking, let a few tears slip.
"Stop crying."
The child held his breath, far too aware that his sobs echoed around.
"It's not that hard, damn it! Eat!"
He let out a squeak, releasing the few tears he had weakly tried to hold back.
He knew he wouldn't win this battle.
He had already lost. He'd never had a chance anyway.
He just had to obey.
He picked up his chopsticks and took a small portion of rice.
"There..."
His hands were shaking so badly that he couldn't bring the food to his lips, and the rice scattered across the table.
He cautiously looked up and saw that the look in the young woman's eyes had changed; now, they were filled only with anger. He had crossed the point of no return.
Instinctively, he hid his face behind his arms as he saw her sit up, but the alpha hit him with such force that his arms slammed against his face, and he fell off his chair, his head hitting the floor.
Stunned and dazed, he didn't have time to recover before the alpha had circled the table. She now towered over him, threatening.
The child tried to sit up, tears streaming down his face. She crouched down in front of him and whispered, like a rumble of thunder:
"Stop crying, damn it."
She slapped him again, and his head hit the floor once more. Without sparing him a glance, she grabbed the bowl from the table and dumped its contents onto the floor.
The anger had disappeared from her eyes, leaving only a chilling coldness.
Maybe she was finally going to give up?
"You're disgusting, you know that? You disgust me."
She pulled his hair with one hand and grabbed food scattered on the floor with the other.
She squeezed the ball of food in her fist and forcefully shoved it into his mouth. His initial reaction was to spit it out, but she stopped him by pressing her hand against his mouth.
"Swallow."
She pulled on his hair harder, but he resisted.
"Swallow."
This time, the voice had growled deeply.
His body, subdued by the command, could no longer resist.
He swallowed.
He felt the bile rise in his throat, mixing with the disgusting taste of the food she had forced into him.
The alpha's voice became gentle, she patted his head kindly and murmured:
"Good, good boy."
He sighed, thinking it was finally over. The alpha sat back up in her chair. Just as he was about to sit up as well, the young woman's voice sliced through the air:
"Oh, I think you didn't understand. Sit."
He obeyed; his body crushed under the weight of the command.
"I didn't want to come to this, but you didn't give me a choice."
The little boy raised his eyes, trying as best as he could to free himself from the grip of the command.
"Lower your eyes."
His body obeyed.
"Eat."
Possessed by the command, unable to resist it, he complied. He saw himself take a handful of food and shove it into his mouth. He swallowed.
It was pointless to fight anymore.
He took another bite, his consciousness sinking, leaving his body empty.
"That's enough."
The grip ended.
The alpha stood up and, as she left, gave him one final order, this time without using force:
"Clean up this mess and go feed the rest to the chickens."
She turned and left the room.
Once he was sure she wouldn't come back, the child straightened up.
His mind had gone silent.
His body felt distant, out of reach now.
He picked up the food scattered on the floor and put it back into the bowl. He poured its contents into the bucket for the chickens, swept the floor, and scrubbed the wood with a damp brush.
His breathing was slow and controlled.
He took the bucket and stepped outside. As he crossed the yard, he heard voices jeering at him and calling him a name that didn't belong to him. That shouldn't belong to anyone.
He finally reached the enclosure, entered, and walked toward the pigsty, knowing the chickens spent most of their time there.
He dumped the contents of the bucket onto the ground, and the chickens rushed toward it. He watched them shove their heads into the remains of peels and rancid food and greedily consume the meal he couldn't swallow.
He raised his eyes. In the back of the pigsty, a sow who had recently given birth lay on her back. Her litter suckled hungrily as she collapsed from exhaustion.
It was probably her last litter.
No animal stayed here for long. They all ended up meeting the fate they were born to face: slaughter and being eaten.
This one was one of the oldest, spared for her high fertility. She was a meat factory; that was her only worth. Soon, she would be too old.
He pitied her, lying in her own filth, nursing young that would soon be taken from her.
He pitied her, just as he pitied himself, for in the end, their fates were the same.
In the eyes of the pack, both she and he served the same purpose.
They had fattened her enough for her to carry her piglets to term, for her to feed them...
They were just doing the same with him.
His body broke free from its anesthesia, and all sensations rushed back to him. His guts twisted with nausea, and the acidity of his stomach burned up his esophagus. He felt his body inflate, grow, and bloat. He felt like he was morphing into the sow.
He felt like he was about to collapse and burst open, leaving his entrails scattered on the ground for the litter to feast on.
He felt himself swell and puff up. He was on the verge of exploding.
He stepped outside, haunted by the sensation. He passed behind the pigsty, where no one could see him. He dug into the earth with his bare hands and crouched in front of the hole.
Tears streamed down his face, but he forced himself to make as little noise as possible.
He took a deep breath, pushed his hair behind his ears, and leaned over the hole. Trembling, he shoved two fingers into his throat. Out of reflex, he pulled his fingers out, stifling a groan, and tried again. This time, his stomach contracted, and its contents rushed up his esophagus in a painful spasm. Another followed. He wiped away his tears and tried again.
He continued until the sensation faded, until it lifted from his skin, and until his body became numb again.
Finally, when he was done, he wiped his mouth with his sleeve and covered the small hole, which was too full to be covered completely. Then he stood up. His head was spinning, and his body was numb. He walked to the faucet in the middle of the enclosure and rinsed his mouth and hands with cool water. He stood up and looked at the house, but decided not to go back inside. He sat on the edge of a feeder and watched the chickens peck.
In the distance, the sun began to set behind the forest.
Soon, it would all begin again.
The wind picked up, rustling the leaves of the trees and the wheat.
Suddenly, his eyes widened, and he held his breath.
A silhouette had appeared at the edge of the forest.
Someone was there.
A few rays of sun pierced the clouds, and he could make out that it was a child. He squinted to make out more details.
"Hey!"
He jumped and turned around. He let out a sigh of relief when he recognized the little boy beside him.
The boy was still in his school uniform.
"I knew I'd find you here."
The little boy in the school uniform smiled at him, and his mole followed the movement of his plump cheeks.
He nodded and turned his gaze back to the forest: the figure had disappeared.
"What's wrong?"
The wind picked up again.
"I thought I saw someone."
The child in front of him frowned and followed his gaze.
"They're gone now."
"Hmm, yeah... There's a house just behind the forest."
He said nothing, his gaze still fixed on the distance. The little boy leaned forward to catch his attention.
"Are you okay?
"Hmm."
"Did you cry?"
"No," he lied.
The boy in the uniform frowned, concerned.
"What did you do today?" he asked before the other could ask more questions.
"Oh! I'll show you, wait!"
The boy took off his backpack and sat down beside him. He rummaged through his things and pulled out his school notebooks.
"We did some math again, I'll explain it to you later, and some Japanese... Science too."
"Oh yes, I did the exercises in the notebook you lent me."
The child beamed at him:
"Perfect! That way, we can work on it tonight! Anyway, as I was saying, we saw this in science, wait, I'll show you!"
He smiled to himself, listening in silence.
For a moment, he forgot. He forgot that he was not home here, forgot that he was no one, just a commodity.
Just for a moment, he was him, just him.
Tomorrow, the sun would rise again, and he would have to get up once more.
-/-
Eventually, he stopped fighting.
He ate when he was told to and did what he had to without offering any resistance.
At least, that's what he wanted everyone to think: that they had won.
He was behind the pigsty, throwing up his last meal.
He was used to it by now, it was just a part of his routine.
He straightened up, covered the hole, and went to wash his mouth and hands, then sat down among the goats and chickens.
In the distance, the figure of the child appeared again. He saw him every day now. Every time he came down here, the boy was there.
He never came closer.
Maybe now was the time.
He stood up, keeping his eyes on the figure, and walked toward the edge of the forest.
It was a little boy. He did not move as he saw him approach, simply watching him come closer. They must have been about the same age.
"Hello," said the little boy when he reached him.
He didn't answer.
Silence stretched between them.
"Uh, I... " the little boy said, readjusting his glasses on his nose.
"You shouldn't be here," he said sharply.
The little boy in front of him blinked, surprised.
"I didn't cross the boundary."
"If they see you, they might..."
"No one will see me, they never do. Just you, you see me. I wanted to see you."
"Me?"
The little boy with glasses nodded vigorously.
"Why?"
"I don't know. I see you there all the time. You look sad, so I wanted to give you this."
The boy from the forest slid his backpack off his shoulder. He opened it and pulled out a dinosaur figurine, which he held out to him.
He took it, stunned by the gesture.
"It's a diplodocus."
He examined the object, still not understanding why the boy from the forest had given it to him.
"Me, I have this one," said the little boy, pulling a T-rex figurine from his bag.
"Why?"
"What?"
"Why are you giving me this?"
"So we can play together. You can keep it, it's a gift. But if you have one already, you can use yours instead."
He frowned.
"You want to play with me?"
The forest boy nodded eagerly. He sat down on the ground, being careful not to cross the invisible boundary. He invited the other boy to sit down as well and started setting up the scene for his imaginary story.
"By the way, my name is Kei, and you?"
He hesitated.
He had already let his guard down anyway.
"Tadashi..."
"Okay, Tadashi... Well, you see, diplodocuses are herbivores, but they are still very cool, and they..."
He opened his eyes.
He recognized the ceiling of his room.
Kei was still asleep beside him.
He felt tears welling up in his eyes.
He didn't hold them back but tried to stay silent.
Why had his mind brought back these memories?
In the end, he knew why.
He slipped his hand under his t-shirt, gently caressing the scar that ran across the flesh of his abdomen. It had almost disappeared now; it was just a thin white line, nearly invisible, almost undetectable to the touch. Soon, maybe even he wouldn't be able to find it, as if none of this had ever happened.
But he wouldn't forget. He couldn't forget.
He choked back another wave of tears, and a faint whimper escaped his lips.
"Tadashi?"
He turned to his mate:
"Sorry, I woke you up."
"Are you okay?"
Yamaguchi nodded.
His face twisted with tears.
No, he wasn't okay, not at all.
His mate immediately cradled him in his arms.
"What's wrong? What is it?" he whispered.
Tadashi's throat was too tight for him to answer. He cried for a long time.
Eventually, he pulled away from his mate so their eyes could meet.
"I should never have left her. I should have stayed."
"You had to save yourself."
Yamaguchi wanted to reply, but his words were lost in his throat, choked with grief.
"Shh. Come here," whispered his lover, pulling him back into his arms.
His mate gently rocked him until he fell asleep again.
Outside, the wind rose.
-end of the chapter-
Chapter 50: "Ten fragments of us"
"It's been almost six months," Kenma interrupted, meeting Keiji's gaze.
Keiji was caught off guard and fell silent.
"Already…" Kōtarō murmured.
Kuroo glanced between his lovers, still unsure what they were talking about.
"What?" he ventured to ask.
The three of them briefly turned their eyes to him but didn't answer.
"I can't afford for this to happen while we're in South Korea. It's too dangerous."
"We will have plenty of time after. It would be unfortunate, yes, but I do not think this..."
"No, I can't risk it."
The ticking of the clock filled the silence.
"You want to trigger it chemically?" Kōtarō finally asked.
Kenma met his gaze and nodded.
Oh. Six months. Kuroo finally understood what they were talking about: their cycles.
