The second Thomas’ SUV rounded the corner, Mika began shaking. He wasn’t supposed to be here! He was supposed to be gone off somewhere!
Go inside…call Gen…escape…
Mika’s limbs wouldn’t respond. He couldn’t move. He knew Thomas was still mad from the day before, but it was about to get a whole lot worse and he knew it. Gen’s truck could still be heard off in the distance…maybe he could get him to come back before anything happened…
The tires screeched to a halt as Thomas pulled into the driveway. He slammed the door shut. Mika’s body began to shake as he stood frozen in the street. Go away…please just go away!
“What are you doing over there, kid?” he said, his voice like tainted sugar. “Just waiting on little ol’ me to get home? That’s sweet of you.” He heard heavy steps as Thomas made his way toward him.
He felt Thomas’ meaty hand on the back of his neck as his body was forced from where he stood, stumbling into the house. The man would never do anything in public. Thomas closed the door behind him and immediately slammed Mika into the ground, kicking him hard in the back. Once…twice…three times.
Ben and Ana were screaming. Jo came running in, trying to push her husband away from her son. He pushed her to the sofa. The two kids ran to her, crying, begging their dad to stop as he picked Mika up by his hair.
“Thought I wouldn’t find out, didn’t you?” he snarled in Mika’s face, the acrid smell of beer stinging the teen’s nose, making his stomach churn.
Mika said nothing, just kept his eyes on the floor, just like he had been taught. Say nothing and he’ll stop sooner rather than later.
Thomas shook Mika, eliciting an unbidden flinch from the boy’s face. “Took me all fucking day to find it, too.”
Mika swallowed, his chin beginning to quiver involuntarily. Dammit…
“You really thought you could hide it from me? You stupid little faggot!” He reached behind him and pulled the gun out from his waistband. He shoved the barrel in Mika’s face, Jo screaming at him to please put it down, to leave Mika alone. Ben and Ana’s crying grew louder, more desperate. Thomas roared at them to shut up before they were next. He threw Mika into the kitchen, his back slamming into the chair, breaking it. Mika yelped in pain. Dammit, shut up! Don’t make a sound! Gen…Gen come back, please!
He bit his lip, trying to stop the tears before they came, trying to pretend he didn’t feel the excruciating pain in his shoulder blade where it had made contact with the rounded edge of the chair back.
“Thomas, please, stop!” Jo cried, trying to pull him back. “It wasn’t his fault, I told him to hide it, me!”
Thomas wheeled on her, eyes blazing with rage. “What the fuck did you just say?!” He raised his hand to hit her…but connected with the side of Mika’s head instead as he ran in front of her, pushing his mother out of the way.
“Don’t!” Mika yelled. “Don’t touch her!”
“Oooo, bad move, you little twink. You should know better than to talk back to me.” His voice was low, venomous. He grabbed Mika by the throat, encircling it with both hands. He pulled him in close, squeezing hard.
Ignoring everything he had ever told himself not to do, he fought back, scratching and clawing at Thomas’ arms, desperate for air. He instinctively tried to pull away, to twist out of the huge hands that only knew how to hurt. His vision became blurred, and his head started to swim.
Thomas laughed in his face. “That’s right, keep struggling. I like it better that way.” He squeezed harder, watching as Mika’s lips turned blue and his eyelids fluttered. Finally, he stopped fighting, stopped moving. After a few more seconds, Thomas dropped him on the ground.
Jo dashed to her child, picking up his limp frame. She put her ear near his mouth and then his chest. His heartbeat was faint but he was still alive. She sagged with relief and glared up at her disinterested and emotionless spouse.
“How could you?” she said in a low voice. “How could you go this far? Especially with the kids right there!”
Ben and Ana ran to Mika’s side, pushing on him, tapping his face, wiggling his hands, calling his name, calling him oniichan like he had taught them, trying to get him to wake up. Jolene just stared at Thomas, her tears dried up. She said nothing, just stared. He shrugged and walked to the kitchen. She heard the fridge door open, a can rattle on the shelf, and the door slam shut.
“He shouldn’t have touched my shit.” He grabbed his keys and walked out the door. A moment later, Jo heard his car back out of the drive and speed away. She released a ragged breath at the same time Mika came to, gasping for air and coughing uncontrollably.
“Oh, my baby!” she sobbed. She held him close to her, rocking him as he gasped and wheezed. “My Mika, my baby! Oh my God, Mika, I’m so sorry!”
“Mika, Mika! Niichan!” Ben and Ana cried, hugging their big brother the best they could as their mother continued to cradle her eldest.
“M-mom…”
“It’s okay, baby, you’re okay.”
“Did he h-urt you?”
She shook her head. “No, sweetheart, he didn’t.”
“Good.” He promptly passed back out.
-*-
Mika woke up with a start, gasping for air. He sat bolt upright, his hand at his throat, tears running down his face. He sat for a minute in the dark, the dream hanging heavy in his mind. His throat burned, his back throbbing with pain. Lucky him, he had landed on the chair exactly where Thomas had kicked him. He drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, rocking gently back and forth.
A moment later, he remembered where he was, his vision acclimating to the moonlit room. He looked to his left where Gen still lay sound asleep, his earbud having fallen from his ear, his right arm behind his head, his left arm laying in the spot where Mika had just been. He looked so peaceful, so untroubled, so young. His freshly dyed hair spilled over the pillow and covered his eyes, his lips partly opened, his chest rising and falling rhythmically with each breath.
Mika smiled softly. He doesn’t snore, he thought. He found his phone on the floor at the foot of the bed. It must have fallen out of his pocket when they were making out, he figured. He pushed the power button once, the screen glaringly bright in his face. Barely midnight.
He pushed it off again, darkness overtaking his sight once more. Feeling the sudden urge to go to the bathroom, he carefully and quietly got up and opened the door. He gently shut it behind him, looking from the left to the right for the bathroom door. He saw it at the far end of the landing. Grateful for the open door, he made his way in and closed it behind him, snapping on the light as he did so.
For a moment, he leaned against the door, still trying to force the fear the dream had left him with to disappear. He noticed a full length mirror near the shower and walked slowly up to it. Standing before it, he looked himself up and down. His t-shirt was rumpled from sleeping, his jeans riding low on his hips. When he raised his arms slightly, he could see, just above his v-cut, the faint lines of old scars running up his stomach and sides.
He took a deep breath and carefully lifted his shirt over his head. His entire torso was a roadmap he had no desire to share with anyone. He knew Gen would see it one day…he knew he would have to be ready for when that day came. The scars from beatings, cuttings, and burnings marred his skin, many of them glowing white against the olive tone.
He moved his hair over his left shoulder, turning so he could examine the large bruise on his back. His eyes wavered, tears springing up. He took his lower lip into his mouth and began to chew. It’s huge…
The bruise covered a spot on his back that was larger than his own hand…larger than Gen’s hand. It was already a deep purple and red with four white marks where Gen’s fingers had been, right in the center. He reached behind him and gently touched it with his fingertips, wincing at the pain. He definitely had two cracked ribs and another one bruised. How the hell was he going to be able to get close to Gen and not yell out everytime he touched him?
He sat on the floor and put his face in his hands. No matter how old he got, Thomas would always find ways to damage him, to make it so no one would want him. How could you want to be with someone you couldn’t touch without them being in pain? Would Gen even still want him when Mika finally told him everything? The beatings were just the beginning…
He wrapped his arms around his middle and looked back at the mirror. You’re just a used up piece of meat, no one is going to want you, Thomas had told him once. Just one more spoiled piece of fruit.
He sat there for a few minutes, gazing up at that mirror, looking for whatever it was Gen liked. All he saw was a half-Japanese boy with blue eyes and messy long hair, beaten and scarred, his eyes red and puffy, his bottom lip chewed all to hell.
His breath caught and he touched his lips with his fingertips. The feeling of Gen’s sharp teeth gently tugging at his lip came to mind. The way his tongue felt, warm and moist against his own, the way he had run the tip of it along the spot he chewed the most…it was a scar, one Gen wasn’t bothered by. If anything, he just accepted it, cherished it.
His hands went around his throat, the unpleasant ridging of the welts where Thomas’s fingers had dug into his skin bumpy under his palms.
Counter to that, he could feel Gen’s hands on his skin as he gently went up his body, as he pulled him close. Mika looked at his own hands, small and weak. Gen’s were large and strong…and gentle. Size does not mean danger, he thought. Gen was so much bigger than he was, six feet tall, if not taller, wide shoulders and a slim waist. He had felt the tight and defined muscles under his shirt when they were close together. He was strong, but he wasn’t dangerous.
He closed his eyes and saw clearly Gen’s smile and kind eyes, heard his laugh, his low voice, the way he said Mika’s name, like a caress. He was such a stark contrast to the other large man in his life, who was nothing but darkness and doom. He was the epitome of pain and fear. Gen was light and safety.
He stood up and put his shirt back on. He did his business, washed his hands, and padded quietly back to the bedroom door. A voice stopped him before he could open it.
“Still awake?”
He looked down to see Kana at the bottom of the stairs, a cup of something hot in her hands.
“Oh, I uh…I had to go to the bathroom,” he said.
She smiled kindly at him and bobbed her head to the side. “Come join me,” she invited. Mika hesitated but she giggled reassuringly. “Trust me, he’s not going to wake up any time soon. A nuclear catastrophe outside his door couldn’t wake that boy up.”
Mika smiled and padded down the stairs, joining her in the den. She sat in one of the chairs, one leg kicked up under her. She had changed into an oversized tee over pink leggings, her thick blond hair a tangled mess on top of her head. She held her mug with both hands and watched him over the rim as he sat on the couch next to her.
“You’re still awake?” he asked her.
She nodded. “I’m a night owl. I like to read or watch some TV or something before I crash. Your boy up there just blasts his music or anime and falls asleep in the middle of it all. He can fall asleep in the middle of a concert if he really wanted to.”
Mika chuckled softly. “We were listening to music when we fell asleep.”
“You really like him,” she said simply.
Mika nodded.
“Do you trust him?”
Another nod.
“So, why are you hiding things from him?”
Mika stared at her. “We both have secrets,” he said softly, to which Kana nodded.
“That’s true.” She took a sip of her tea. He could smell Jasmine and honey. “Want me to tell you one?”
“Are you sure he won’t mind?”
“Of course not. He’ll gripe about it but ultimately he won’t care. If anything, he’ll be relieved you know. It’s why he doesn’t interact with people or have friends.”
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