Splintered Hearts - Chapter One
Author's Note: This story takes place in the Omegaverse! If you aren't familiar with it, it's where there are three classes: alphas, betas, and omegas. In my version, females of any class can get pregnant and only males of the omega class can get pregnant. I'm still flushing out some of the details, so my Omegaverse might differ wildly from the one you know.
Trigger Warning: child abuse, mentions of sexual assualt. Please tread lightly and if you notice any other potential triggers, let me know so I can add to the warning! These will be recurring themes throughout the entire novel, so I ask that you do not read it if you cannot handle it. I don't want to be the reason you relive your own traumas. Thank you!
Ren Hisakawa leaned against the cold metal of the dumpster. Blood trickled from a wound on his forehead, obscuring his vision and forcing his right eye closed. His lip was swollen, his cheeks bruised and scratched up. He could feel a dull ache in his shoulder and he was certain he had a few cracked ribs. It had been a while since he had received such a beating. No matter what he said, it wouldn’t have made things easier so he had simply kept his mouth shut. It pissed him off even more. Wincing at the memory, Ren closed his other eye and slumped over onto his good shoulder.
Should I just die here…?
Cold, damp. The ground was unforgiving and the stench alone would cause normal people to gag. Ren coughed out a laugh, groaning at the pain it caused him. He wasn’t a normal person. He belonged on the ground with the rest of the garbage. It was his place and he knew it well. He had only made that mistake once. When he was younger, when he was still too naive to think the world was cruel, he had made the mistake of sitting across from a young gang leader. The young man had glared at him and his lackeys had shoved him to the floor, pressing his face against the dirty tiles.
“How dare you sit across from the boss!” one man had shrieked.
“You think you’re his equal? Do you think so highly of yourself, you little shit?” another had added.
At the time, Ren’s eyes had gone wide. He didn’t know what he had done wrong until the young leader had ordered his men to lift Ren’s head so he could see his face. A good punch to his left cheek had him trembling as he was let go. He had fallen to the tiled floor ungracefully. His eyes were still wide, but from shock.
“Whenever you meet with me, you will sit on the floor like the dog you are,” the young leader told him. There was no anger in his voice. No trace of any emotion. It terrified Ren to his core. Someone so cold, a man so hardened by his lifestyle that he could speak without any glimmer of emotions, what would happen if someone angered him? Again, it was something Ren had witnessed only once.
One of the young leader’s men had betrayed him. He was someone the young leader had known since childhood and came to rely on. He was the same man who forced the young leader’s father underground and eventually into prison. To unleash such a rage that no one dared to so much as look at the young leader afterward, surely the man had gone mad. He was hospitalized and ended up in a coma. After the last few years, Ren was fairly certain the man was still there.
“Hey, there’s someone over there!” the unfamiliar voice snapped Ren out of his thoughts. Footsteps approached and a sharp gasp came from somewhere overhead. “He’s just a kid! Hey, boss, what should we do?”
Another boss… Ren forced himself to sit up, wincing from how stiff his body was. Covered from head to toe in blood and bruises, he was sure he was quite the sight. He opened his left eye, looking up at the men above him. As soon as the men met his gaze, he could see them physically tense up. Ren knew exactly what caused it. It was his kyanite eyes. A deep blue so clear it rivaled the oceans, Ren’s irises reflected a purity that caused men and women alike to become captivated. His eyes were the reason he was so battered and the images caused Ren to lower his gaze to the men’s feet.
“Tell me something, kid,” the other man - the boss - spoke. His tone was quiet and gentler than Ren would have thought it could be. His appearance was refined, but the aura he emitted was terrifying. He wasn’t one to be crossed by any means. It was worse than the young leader Ren had come to serve. To show kindness toward street trash and be able to be so dominant that anyone would bow down without second guessing it. Another horribly terrifying person to cross Ren’s path. Was he that unlucky?
“Hey, kid, are you conscious?” the first man sounded worried. He had knelt beside Ren, took his chin gently in his hand and tipped his head back. The kindness made Ren’s chest hurt. “Can you speak at all?”
“What,” Ren croaked out. His throat was dry. It made his voice raspy. Licking his lips, Ren tried again despite the pain the action caused him. “What would...you like to know?” He met the gaze of the man next to him with his good eye. He didn’t dare to address the man still towering over him. He didn’t want to provoke him.
“I will ask you only one question right now,” the boss said. “So, please look at me when you answer.” He waited while Ren thought about it. Slowly, Ren lifted his head to meet the gaze of the boss before him. “Do you want to live?”
Ren stared up at him, holding his gaze. He was scared, his body trembling, as a stray tear carved its way down his cheek through the dried blood. Did he want to live? “Yes,” Ren whispered. He could hear the desperation in his own voice. He didn’t want to die here. Dying here meant he had done something wrong; it meant acknowledging he had done exactly what he had been accused of.
“Help him into the car.” The boss didn’t give his subordinate any other instructions. He simply headed down the alley toward the parked car and climbed inside. He left the back door open as if waiting.
“I’ll support most of your weight,” the man next to Ren stated. He pulled Ren up and noticed when he let out a shaky breath. “I’ll have you to the car soon, so please bare with the pain a little longer.” He moved slowly, making sure he didn’t jostle Ren around. It was painful, but nothing Ren couldn’t handle. By the time they had gotten to the car, a light rain was misting over them.
Ren slid into the backseat and the man shut the door before climbing into the passenger seat. He rummaged in the glove compartment while the driver pulled away from the curb and headed to wherever they were going. It should have scared him, but Ren felt oddly at peace. The man turned around in his seat and held a damp rag toward Ren. He frowned when Ren didn’t take it and he gave his boss a worried look.
The boss took the rag from his subordinate and turned so he was facing Ren. He reached out and gently pressed the damp cloth against the right side of Ren’s face. It made him flinch. Ren looked at the boss, fear evident in his left eye. The calm demeanor of someone so powerful made him even more scared. He closed his eyes tightly, wondering when the gentle touch would turn into a sharp slap. When it didn’t come, Ren opened his eyes slowly, blinking a few times to get his right eye to adjust.
“Much better,” the boss said simply. He set the blood stained rag on the center consul between the front seats.
Ren waited for the boss to say something else, but he turned back around, sitting straight in his seat as he leaned against the back. He turned his attention to the window and seemed to forget Ren’s presence. He was glad for it. Ren looked out of his own window, watching the buildings roll by as they slowed. The car came to a stop at a red light and a few people used the crosswalk. The front door of the building they were stopped next to opened and three men exited, laughing loud enough Ren could hear it with the windows up. His body tensed instantly at their laughter and his chest tightened.
What are they doing there? What if they see me? They’ll kill me for sure now!
He heard ragged breathing, but it took a few moments to realize it was him. Ren was nearly hyperventilating and the man in the passenger seat turned around to give his shoulder a small squeeze. It anchored him enough to look away from the men outside. He was sitting in the middle of the backseat and he was trying to remember when he had moved away from the door.
“The windows are tinted,” the driver said, catching Ren by surprise. “Whoever they are, they can’t see you in here. Please calm down and move away from the boss a little.”
Ren turned, seeing he was nearly invading the boss’s space. He flinched as if he had been slapped and he moved away quickly, nearly sticking himself to the door. He kept his head down, his body shaking uncontrollably. Outside, the men cackled and walked on by, none the wiser that Ren sat just inside a car so close to them. The light turned green and the car lurched forward, putting distance between Ren and those men. He turned and peeked out the back window, watching their backs fade into the distance.
“Boss, I’ll go ahead and call the doc to come to our place,” the man up front said. He pulled a cell phone from his pocket and hit a couple of buttons before placing the phone to his ear. He spoke quickly before something the doctor said caught him off guard. He turned to face Ren. “How old are you? The doc needs to know how much medicine to bring.”
“I’m twelve,” Ren answered. He could feel the shock seeping from the three men in the car with him. He knew he looked a little older than twelve, but it was only because he had hit a growth spurt. He was still just a kid, but living on the streets had forced him to grow up a little too quickly. He returned to looking outside as the car veered down a side street, heading for the outer reaches of the city. The low hum of the engine was soothing, as was listening to the quiet chatter of the man on the phone despite being unable to make out any words anymore. It wasn’t long before the two sounds soothed Ren into a deep sleep.
Ten minutes later, Ren woke up to see the back of a seat in front of his face. It took a few seconds for the sight to make sense. He sat upright, blood rushing to his head and making him dizzy. He had been fast asleep with his head on the boss’s lap. He was mortified. The men up front were quiet, the driver’s knuckles white with how hard he gripped the steering wheel, but he said nothing. The atmosphere inside the car was tense and Ren knew he was to blame for it.
“I-I’m sorry…!” Ren stammered. He lowered his head as he faced the boss, tears stinging his eyes. He closed them tightly, his body shaking again. Would these men stop along the way and beat him, too, for being disrespectful? He decided he would take the beating without any complaints. He was guilty of it this time.
A voice, menacing and cold, flickered to his mind. Stop seducing the young master, you little bitch!
“Continue resting, kid,” the boss told him softly. “We’re still twenty minutes or so out so just go back to sleep.” He pat the space next to him. “If you’re uncomfortable lying down, sit here and lean on me instead.”
Ren glanced forward and saw neither of the men protesting, but he still felt uneasy. He could always lean against the door instead, but his body ached and it was craving whatever warmth it had absorbed while he was sleeping. Slowly, Ren scooted to the center of the backseat and leaned his head against the boss’s shoulder. It was warm. He nearly cried from how much warmth he felt coming from this man. He curled up on the seat, legs tucked beneath him as he tried to absorb all the warmth he could. He fell asleep again as the car sped up, the city lights disappearing into the night.
Ryouta Kanada opened the back door of the car for himself and carefully climbed out. He waited as his subordinates pulled the young boy from the backseat before he closed the door quietly. A boy around Ren’s age came running out of the manor once the car pulled up. He had stopped halfway once seeing his father’s subordinates pull a kid from the car. He waited where he was as the three men approached him though his eyes never left the boy they carried.
“Dad, who’s that?” he asked, pointing. His father placed a hand on his head and tousled his hair.
“For now, he’s our guest,” Ryouta explained. He ordered his men to take the boy inside and have the doctor set up a makeshift ward in one of the guest rooms. He faced his son. “Akira, make sure you don’t bother him. He needs to recover.” Ryouta headed toward the front door.
Akira followed his father, falling into step just two paces behind him. “What happened to him?” When his father shrugged, Akira frowned. “Dad, what if he’s bad?”
“Akira.” Ryouta looked at his son. “I will have him answer all my questions, but only after he has recovered. He was nearly dead when Hiroki and I found him.” He placed his hand on his son’s shoulder and led him into the house. They went directly to the den, but Akira could hear a faint beeping sound. His curiosity would be the death of him.
“I need to pee!” Akira blurted. He ducked under his father’s arm and ran back to the foyer. The few staff there were stunned, but none of them chastised him. He hurried up the flight of stairs and kept running until he found Hiroki exiting a room, pulling the door closed behind him. Akira managed to duck under his arm and shove the door back open. It banged against the wall and the doctor barely spared him a look, all too used to Akira’s impulsive behavior.
“Master Akira!” Hiroki hissed. He tried to grab Akira by the back of his shirt, but the boss’s son moved just a tad faster. He was already standing next to the strange kid’s bed before Hiroki could do anything. He sighed as Ryouta met him at the door. “I’m sorry, sir. He just barged right in.”
“It’s not your fault, Hiroki,” Ryouta replied, waving his apology off. “Akira is more rambunctious than we ever give him credit for.” He turned his attention to his son and beckoned him with one hand. “Akira, leave him be and come here.”
Akira didn’t budge. His eyes were wide and fixated on the boy in front of him. The doctor had cut his shirt off and his torso was exposed. Bruises littered his body along with scratches and a few strange marks along his shoulder and side. What made those strange patterns? He was already hooked up to an intravenous drip and had a bandage wrapped around his head. Akira jumped when a hand grabbed his shoulder. His father gave his shoulder a squeeze.
“What happened to him?” Akira whispered. He looked up at his father, tears in his eyes as he clutched at his sleeve. “Who the hell does that to a kid?”
“Young master, mind your tongue,” Hiroki murmured. He had moved closer, too. He looked at Ryouta and bowed once. “I’ll take the young master to his room, sir.” He took Akira by the shoulders and led him away as Akira felt the first tears fall. In the hallway, he grabbed Hiroki’s arm.
“Hiro, do you know what those weird marks on that boy’s shoulder and side were?” Akira tugged urgently at Hiroki’s sleeve. “You know what they are, don’t you? What are they?”
“Akira, let’s go to your room.” Hiroki pulled Akira along toward the end of the hall. He opened a door to a bedroom. “Please go inside until dinner is ready.” He looked down at the boy before him. “And please try to stay away from the guest room.” He turned to leave.
“Hiro, tell me, dammit!” Akira demanded. When Hiroki remained silent, Akira got angry. “Hiro, I’m not asking anymore. As the future head of this family, I’m ordering you to tell me.”
“They’re bite marks,” Hiroki mumbled, finally giving into Akira’s demands. “Someone bit him and more than once.”
The color drained from Akira’s face and his eyes went wide. He stared at the carpet, the words sinking in. Bite marks. His stomach churned and he covered his mouth, turning and running to his private bathroom. He barely made it to the toilet and lifted the lid before he was vomiting. His body heaved and whatever was left of his lunch from that day met the water in the toilet bowl. What sick bastard would bite a little kid? The question made Akira hurl again. A soothing hand rubbed his back in a circular motion and he looked up to see Hiroki.
“Who…?” Akira asked. It was all he was able to ask before he turned back to the toilet and dry heaved, all the contents of his stomach expelled.
“We don’t know, but do you understand why I didn’t want to tell you? Despite being a teenager, you have a weak stomach for things like this. You’re only three years older than him, so-”
“What?” Akira stared at Hiroki. That kid was only three years younger than… Akira threw up again. He flushed the contents of the toilet and sat back against the wall, tears staining his face. Someone, some sick freak, tormented someone only three years younger than him and left him on death’s door. He felt sick and looked at Hiroki. “Tell Dad that I won’t be down for dinner. I don’t think I can eat after hearing that.”
Hiroki watched as Akira forced himself up and stumbled to his bed. He flopped down and curled up, quietly sobbing as he tried to block the images of the boy’s damaged body from his mind and failing miserably at it. A soft comforter covered him as Hiroki covered him up. A pat to his head like he used to when he would tuck him into bed in place of his father and Hiroki slipped out of his room. Akira pulled his comforter closer, burying his face in his pillow to muffled his sobs. That poor boy.
Ryouta was standing in the hall just outside Akira’s room as Hiroki exited and closed the door. He gave his boss an apologetic look and explained his mistake of telling the young master the truth. His boss merely sighed and told him to just keep an eye on his son before he went downstairs to his office. Hiroki stood in the hallway by himself. His shoulders slumped and he leaned heavily against the wall. He was more than frustrated. No matter how many times he messed up, his boss was a forgiving man. Maybe too forgiving. He had just accidentally traumatized his young master, but his boss had forgiven him for being truthful to Akira.
“Hiro,” Taichi whispered. He had gone back outside to park the car in the garage and have a smoke before coming to find everyone. “What happened?”
Hiroki looked at the driver. They were around the same age and had entered Ryouta’s care around the same time so they grew close. They were like brothers and Hiroki let out an exasperated sigh. “Tai, I messed up,” he replied. “The young master saw the kid in the guest room. He has bite marks, fucking bite marks, Tai! Someone used him as their personal chew toy. Akira saw them and asked me what they were. I didn’t have the heart to lie to him, so I told him. He just spent a good ten minutes puking his guts out and now he’s in his bed.”
Taichi frowned as he listened to his friend. He put a hand on his shoulder and shook him once. “We all mess up, but the important thing is to move forward and learn from our mistakes. Be a little more cautious about it from now on. What did the boss say?”
“Boss told me to just watch over Akira so that’s what I plan to do.” Hiroki looked at his young master’s closed bedroom door. He vowed to make sure Akira could make it through this. The sound of a door opening drew both of their attention and they straightened at seeing the doctor exiting the guest room. The three of them quietly made their way to the boss’s office to hear the full report.
“Sir, I have finished examining the patient,” the doctor explained. He sat in a leather armchair across from the boss’s desk and gratefully accepted the glass of brandy offered to him. He took a sip and set the glass down on the coaster placed before him. “A head wound caused by a broken bottle, a few cracked ribs, several abrasions and bruises.” He paused, lowering his voice before continuing. “The bite marks look like they came from three different sets of teeth. I would have to make casings of them to be completely sure. He had a nearly dislocated shoulder.” The doctor stopped speaking, picking his glass of brandy up and downing its contents quickly.
“Doc, is there more?” Hiroki asked. He silently prayed there wasn’t, but the way the doctor refused to meet any of their eyes gave him his answer.
“Please, go on, doctor,” Ryouta urged him. The boy was worse off than he realized and he was suddenly grateful he and Hiroki had taken the alleyway back to their car. The poor kid most likely would have died had they used the front entrance of the place.
“Upon removing the patient’s pants and underwear, I found a few more bite marks on his thighs along with more bruises.” The doctor paused again. He closed his eyes before willing himself to finish his report. He cleared his throat and straightened in his chair, fixing his gaze upon Ryouta. “He has anal tearing and bleeding. There was quite a bit of fluids on him and in his clothing. Sir, someone raped that boy and they did it brutally. I can prescribe him painkillers and morphine until he begins to heal, but you should seek psychiatric help for him as soon as possible.” The doctor slid two Polaroid photos across the desk. “He has two tattoos. The first is on his left wrist; it’s a tiny lotus blossom. The second one wraps around his right ankle. I will let you look at it and deduce what it is.”
Ryouta picked up the two Polaroid photos and examined them. The first was indeed a lotus blossom. The second one caught his attention and caused a steely expression to come over his face. Hiroki and Taichi knew that look. It was one of barely controlled rage. He tossed the photos onto his desk and he stood up to face the large window facing the expansive backyard.
“Why am I not surprised?” Ryouta stated. He clasped his hands behind him, trying desperately not to lose his temper.
Hiroki picked up the second Polaroid and examined it with Taichi. At first glance, the ankle tattoo appeared to be a thing line, but they had seen it before. Tiny details flooded their minds and they looked at their boss in disbelief. Ivy dotted with tiny flowers wrapped around the right ankle. There was only one meaning behind it. The child they had found and brought home belonged to a rival gang, the one that operated a nightclub named The Garden. They were known for their sleazy clients and their underage prostitutes. The boy upstairs was property of the Kuroda mafia.
“There is one other thing,” the doctor spoke softly. He was standing by the door as if ready to bolt at any given moment. He looked at Hiroki and Taichi and then to Ryouta. “That boy is an omega. Fortunately, it appears he has yet to experience his first heat so whoever raped him won’t have gotten him pregnant.” The doctor bowed once and hurriedly exited the office. He made his way back upstairs to check on his patient.
“An omega,” Hiroki repeated. He stood and approached his boss slowly. “Sir, what should we do? We can’t have an omega here. All of us are alphas! Just being in the same vicinity of all of us could jump start his heat cycle!”
“Hiro, calm down,” Taichi said. He stood by his friend ad gripped his forearm tightly. “Becoming agitated won’t solve anything. It’ll only make finding a solution harder.” Taichi looked to their boss. “What shall we do, sir?”
Ryouta turned and faced his two closest subordinates. His resolve was reflected clearly in his eyes. “Have the doctor prescribe enough medication for all of us to keep our pheromones in check for now. We’ll also hire a couple new staff members, betas, to oversee the care of that child until we can come up with a more permanent solution. Whatever we have to suffer through, endure it. We aren’t sending that child back to those bastards.”
Hiroki and Taichi both bowed to Ryouta. They turned and left the office, Taichi heading upstairs to inform the doctor of their boss’s request as Hiroki went to the secondary office. It was the one the staff used and he sat down in the office chair before the computer. He tapped quickly on the keys, entering his login information before posting a bulletin online. He asked for experienced betas looking for tutoring and babysitting jobs, preferably ones with martial arts training to certain degrees and ones willing to become injured if things got out of hand. Several people applied almost immediately and Hiroki vetted them, dropping the overall number down each time.
Two hours later, Hiroki was standing before Ryouta on the back patio, the files of potential new staff members open in front of his boss. He was explaining it great detail each candidate’s experience and expertise, trying to help narrow things down. Taichi had gone with the doctor back to the clinic and retrieved the suppressant medication they would need. One pill a day for each of them for an undisclosed period of time. Taichi also returned with a small velvet box. He placed it upon the table before his boss.
“This might be a last resort if this medication doesn’t have the desired effect for all of us,” Taichi stated. He waited as Ryouta lifted the lid to reveal a thick black collar. “I overheard a young couple speaking about it at the clinic. It’s for omegas to wear in order to protect their necks from alphas. It’s too thick to bite through and it can’t be ripped off. The only way to remove it is with a key.”
Ryouta stared at the collar situated inside the box. He closed the box and clenched his hands tightly into fists. After everything that child had been through, they were going to subject him to such a humiliating thing? He pushed it aside and told Taichi to help them go over the remaining candidates for the new staff. After another hour of going back and forth, they decided on two betas. A Japanese man by the name of Kei who specialized in tutoring all subjects and an American man named Jasper who was one of the nation’s top five when it came to security. They all agreed they still needed someone to teach the young omega martial arts and how to defend himself, but they couldn’t find someone they felt met their standards.
“Maybe we need an alpha for that position,” Hiroki mumbled. He was tired and staring up at the night sky as he swiveled back and forth in his patio chair. The stars were shining overhead and there was a crescent moon hanging low in the sky. “I know we have a ton of alphas on staff, but if he’s going to be taught how to defend himself, it should be by someone strong. I don’t think a beta would suffice.”
“I agree,” Taichi stated. He was hunched over the table, arms folded under his head. “Boss, I think we need to put an ad out for alphas who meet our criteria. However, they will have to prove they are willing to take the suppressors like the rest of us.”
“If we hire an alpha to teach the boy,” Ryouta began, stretching his stiff limbs as he stood up. He rolled his shoulders to ease the tension between them a little. “I will hire him to also work as the boy’s bodyguard. He will be permitted to defend the child from everyone, ourselves included, if things should get out of hand.”
Coming to an agreement, the three of them returned to the staff office. Hiroki contacted the two men who passed their rigorous criteria and set up interview times while Taichi placed an ad for alpha trainers who would be doubling as bodyguards. Ryouta sat at the other computer, typing lazily on the keyboard as he slowly searched for what he wanted. The doctor recommended getting the boy a psychiatrist to help with whatever trauma would surface from all this. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, pulling his phone from his pocket and dialing a number. Although it was late, he knew the woman would pick up. She answered on the third ring.
“Ryouta, do you have any idea what time it is?” she grumbled. Her words were harsher than her tone, though, and he knew she wasn’t too mad.
“Chihiro, it seems we need your assistance,” Ryouta stated. “We’ve taken in a stray, a young omega. He needs…” Ryouta seemed to struggle for the right words and he finally sighed, running a calloused hand over his face. “I’m going to be blunt, Chihiro. The kid was brutalized by men. He needs an affectionate person to speak with him. He needs a woman like you.”
“I’ll be over in the morning.” Chihiro hung up, the line going dead. Ryouta sighed again and leaned back in his seat. He loosened his tie and looked at Hiroki.
“I apologize, Hiroki, for calling her to help.” Ryouta ran a hand through his hair and leaned his head back. “It’s times like this I wish I hadn’t quit smoking.”
“Sir, I don’t mind,” Hiroki replied with a small smile. “My sister is good at what she does and I know she’ll be happy to help. After she sees the kid, she’ll probably show her scary side.” He laughed and logged out of the computer he was using. “Do you remember how protective she gets when kids are concerned?”
“I remember all too well the wrath of the firstborn Hiro,” Taichi began. He shuddered at a memory and laughed with Hiroki. “Remember when you first started working here? I think it was about a few months after, your sister showed up thinking you were being bullied. It took over an hour to contain her!”
Hiroki grimaced. “Don’t remind me! She can be extremely protective, but I think the boss made the right call. The kid is going to need someone like Chihiro to stand guard until we can find a suitable bodyguard.”
Ryouta smiled fondly at his subordinates. “Having both Chihiro and Hiroki under one roof again...what on earth am I getting myself into?”
The three men all laughed and continued reminiscing about Hiroki’s older sister. She was an alpha, too, and her personality definitely showed it. She was still single because of it. Most men became intimidated by her independent behavior and were put off by how freely she spoke. Hiroki, however, admired her for it. He knew whoever fell in love with his tough sister would love those qualities about her and encourage her to keep it up.
It was close to midnight when they all decided to call it a night. Ryouta climbed tiredly into his bed and under the thick comforter after changing into pajamas. The day had taken a strange turn, but he was glad to have saved someone’s life this time around. In his line of work, it was rare to be able to spare someone from the clutches of death. He rolled onto his side and stared at the empty space beside him in the king sized bed. How would his late wife had handled things? Thinking of the serene face of his lifetime mate made his chest ache. Akira’s mother had been the loveliest woman he had ever met. She had long black hair that she always kept twisted into braids and wound tightly around the top of her head like a crown.
“Akemi,” Ryouta whispered into the darkness. “Akemi, my love, please show me what I’m supposed to do. Don’t let me wander too far from the path I’m supposed to be on.”
Silence met Ryouta’s words. He closed his eyes tightly and clutched at the pillow his wife used so many nights during their marriage. He found comfort in it as he had in the firsts weeks after her death. It felt as if she would sit down at any moment and smack lightly at his hand, tell him to let go of her homemade pillowcase before he tore it or stretched the fabric. He fell asleep and as he did so, his hand relaxed against the pillow, the worn fabric smoothing out under his hand.
Downstairs, Hiroki and Taichi were in their shared room. It was spacious despite all of their belongings being crammed into the same room. The had moved partitions around to separate their spaces, but now they both sat on the floor surrounded by a couple bottles of liquor. Normally, they both wouldn’t drink, but after a day like today, they decided they would. It had been hectic and emotionally draining. Between the kid they brought home and Akira feeling sick after Hiroki told him the truth, they had all become rundown.
“Tai,” Hiroki hiccuped. He looked over at his friend. “Do you think things will turn out okay?”
Taichi was sprawled out on the floor, face flushed as he stared at the ceiling. “I want to say things will be fine,” he replied, words slightly slurred. “But if that kid really belongs to the Kuroda faction, I don’t think things will be easy. First we need to figure out if they really just threw him away like that.”
Hiroki flopped onto the floor like Taichi had, but he closed his eyes. “Whenever I close my eyes, all I see is that kid lying next to the dumpster as if he were trash. What kind of person breaks a kid down so much that he thinks that’s where he belongs?”
Hiroki and Taichi kept mumbling to each other until their words all jumbled together and they both passed out. They had their alarms set to wake them up the next morning and after being so exhausted, they would both sleep well so neither one worried too much about being able to hear their alarms. When they first began working for Ryouta Kanada, they would have weekly drinking parties in their room with most of the staff and despite how much they drank, they were the only two who seemed to be able to shake off their hangovers the next morning and perform what was expected of them. They were the only two who had their boss’s permission to drink whenever they wanted. Snores filled the room as Hiroki and Taichi slept, both wishing in their dreams that things would turn out okay.