Trust

KIAN

Was that… Was that me? Kian wondered internally while he walked beside Emi and Druce on their way home from the station.

The thought was so ridiculous that he almost denied the possibility of it, but of course it had been his voice that had said that forbidden word. Friends. Referring to Druce, the attractive, mysterious stranger that had just shown up out of nowhere in his very private life. She had spent the entire night with them after Dr. Rallus’s fight, trying tasty and sometimes tasteless food at random stalls, cracking jokes with Emi that were actually sometimes funny despite Kian’s better judgement, and—much to Kian’s chagrin—fitting into his, Emi’s, and Dr. Rallus’s natural grove easier than Kian would have ever expected.

For some reason… She fits. The thought flew out of Kian’s mind like a bullet, and he was unable to take it back. If the girls weren’t walking beside him and weren’t close enough to see him do something as idiotic as slap himself, full palm, in the face, he’d have gone for it with complete conviction and no hesitation at all. But he’d already made a fool of himself that night, giving them fuel to tease him over Druce’s ‘gender reveal.’ The facepalm would be overkill.

All that being said, this development, the ‘She fits,’ Freudian slip, didn’t mean he had forgotten that Druce was really a stranger, and that this stranger was going to be near what was left of his family sometime soon. He had a mom and two younger siblings to protect, the way Nari had protected them in the past. Now that it was his turn, Kian was obsessed with doing it right, not wanting to let down someone who had already passed on. He knew that sometimes, he acted like a complete nutcase, but they really were all he had and adding someone new to that, who could potentially be a danger to them? It made him jittery, uncomfortable. He wondered briefly if conducting an interrogator-style interview of Druce would be crossing the line, because that was where his head was at right now.

I’m scared as hell, Kian admitted to himself.

Fearful of what might be the end of a safety net built around just him, his family, Emi, and Dr. Rallus. Kian had grown dependent on his lack of miscellaneous connections, his family’s general isolation from the populous Vermillion Plate. It made protecting them easier, keeping a low profile—as low a profile the governing family of the “richest” section on Vermillion Plate could have—more doable. The less people that knew about them outside of their own neighborhood, the better.

Kian did not let other people in. His heart wasn’t big enough; Nari had taken a chunk of it with him the night he died, and God could attest that he wasn’t going to miraculously grow his heart up again anytime soon. At least… he didn’t plan on it.

Kian didn’t want to follow in Nari’s footsteps either, no matter how awesome his big brother was, and no matter his wishes. Nari’s words, his call to help make the world a better place, were always floating around in Kian’s head, and it was a constant guilt he would have to live with for the rest of his days because helping another was just not worth Kian’s life, or the pain his death would bring the ones he’d leave behind. There was no telling what someone’s need might cost you, and Kian was perhaps the most unwilling person on the planet to test this out. Nari’s dreams had been simple, his actions daring but kind, and he had paid the ultimate price for it.

And so had his family. Kian had gone through the torment of losing his big brother for years, suffering night after night through night terrors that refused him sleep for hours at a time. So, there was no convincing him that it was worth it, helping people. Giving the emotions reserved in his heart for his family to anyone else and theirs.

Again, not worth it.

Who would take care of them if I’m gone? Kian thought again for the umpteenth time. This thought constantly burdened his mind and kept Kian’s more reckless impulses at bay. At least, for the most part. He was the Hunter Killer, he was dangerously daring when it came to his family’s protection, because he also couldn’t bear the thought of being ‘the left-behind’ again.

If he was to be frank, Kian wasn’t sure if he would be strong enough to go through it again.

So, regarding Druce, he knew that despite Emi’s readily trusting nature, it would take more than just one good moment for him to trust Druce. He didn’t know what type of person she was, if he could count on her to be tight lipped about their family secrets or if she’d spill her guts to a hunter the first chance she got. He also couldn’t expect her to be like Emi, ready to jump in at any moment if it meant protecting him or their families.

He didn’t know if he wanted to trust her, but if he did…

It could take a lifetime.

DRUCE

Emi’s house was at the center of a major hill somewhere in Mid-East Vermillion’s Chrome District. The girl had insisted that she didn’t understand the district’s name, but Druce could see the reason right away.

Everything around her, while still alight in the deepest Vermillion red, seemed… metallic, somehow. A lustrousness was present more here than in any district on any Plate Druce had ever been to. The street Emi’s house was on was a strange mixture of shoddy-looking buildings with few windows and sources of light, and tall apartment buildings stretching half the block with large windows that expressed abundance but on a much lesser scale than that of Cerulean. The trees peeking between every few homes, though organic, seemed to gleam in the surrounding luster of the Chrome District. The streetlights were taller than normal, engulfing passerby in a brilliance that made their Vermillion-colored hair shine like the rarest jewel.

Druce had previously only been in the Chrome District under the covert operation of tailing Kian, the Hunter Killer. Tonight, she walked along the streets as an observer, not an intruder.

An admirer of its beauty.

“Here it is,” Emi said, cutting Druce from her observations. The house was unlike the other run-down buildings. This house was a light red, one-story, single-family home, its windows intact, the roof straight, and the front door fully painted with a little stained-glass window at the upper middle to be used as a peephole.

This wasn’t to say that the house was perfect or suitable for any individuals higher up on The Glass Tower by any means. It remained far below the socioeconomic expectations of Rosewood, Orchid, and especially Cerulean citizens.

Still, Druce found it hard to believe that Emi’s family home was an indication that Mid-East Vermillion was the wealthiest of all the four sections of Vermillion Plate. She was curious, now, to see what Kian’s, the governing family’s, home looked like.

Druce followed Emi inside. “My aunt works late and should be sleeping, so I can’t ask permission just yet for you to stay here, but she’s nice, so I know she’ll say yes, anyway. Lemme show you around,” Emi said, her voice light as air. Druce suddenly felt intimidated as she mimicked Emi’s action of taking her shoes off at the door, not because the inside of the house was more magnificent than she had imagined but because this was a first for her.

Friendship was new to Druce altogether, so she had never been invited into another’s home before. She didn’t know how to act, what comments to make, and what to keep to herself. She was stiff and bothered.

But she was overwhelmingly happy. She would never forget this.

“This is where we’ll watch movies all night,” Emi said to Druce as they passed by the long couch taking up much of the space in the living room, “and over here is the kitchen.” They had walked no more than twelve steps. Druce found the size of this place amazing. The kitchen had a refrigerator, a large portable oven, and a glass table with four chairs, with cloths strewn over the seats for comfort. “We can get snacks from the fridge here. We have ice cream, some juices, these… rotten apples, and some other stuff we can eat during our movie sessions.” Emi turned to Druce, beaming.

Druce beamed back. Her ears were filled with the word ‘we,’ her heart screaming with pride that finally, she was part of someone’s ‘we.’

“Lemme show you my room.”

To get to the bedrooms, they had to exit the kitchen, reenter the living room, and enter a hallway at the left of the kitchen. This hallway had three rooms—two on the right wall, and one on the left where the hallway took a sharp left turn. Apparently, that was where the bathroom was located.

Druce’s house on Cerulean Plate was entirely different from this. The living room, kitchen, and bedrooms were all separated by their own hallways, not to mention the guest bathrooms, studies, library, lounge, and laundry room. In fact, most Cerulean homes were a maze of doors and hallways, so being able to get from room to room so quickly in this little place was a source of shock to Druce.

She kind of liked it. No one could be left to rot in their own little world in a house like this.

As they walked to the farthest room in the hallway, the one at the back left near the bathroom, a door to the right opened and a teenaged boy appeared. The comfort that had been building up inside of her slipped away from Druce’s body at once. Instinctively, she took mental note after mental note of the injuries done to the boy’s lame body.

“Hey, you!” Emi said, hurrying over to embrace the boy in a rough hug that had him choking out laughter.

“Stoppp,” he whined, his smile wider than the open sky, “you know you have the tightest hugs in the world.”

Emi let go and stepped back, allowing Druce to once more take in the full extent of his injuries. “You know you love my hugs.”

The boy laughed and shook his head, “Nah, it’s just torture at this point.”

Druce was hurting inside. She couldn’t stop herself from storing memories of this boy, like the process of beginning the end of someone’s life was ingrained in her being. She felt like she was betraying Emi.

“Yumo, this is Druce.” Emi said, her eyes bright, happy to introduce her younger brother to a new friend. “Druce, this is Yumo. He’s sixteen, but I still think of him as his short little twelve-year-old self. He was so cute! I wish you had known him then.”

All Druce heard was, ‘This is Yumo. He’s sixteen and uses crutches because he’s lost all feeling in his left leg. He’s wearing shorts so you can see how mangled the skin around the scars are, how his knee is swollen out of place, and how bruises speckle up and down his entire leg. Turn him in, Miss Elliot.' Her mind was telling her, 'Turn him in.’

“That twelve-year-old doesn’t exist anymore!” Yumo shouted, and the pair started laughing, apparently always full of laughter. Druce snapped out of her thoughts and beat the fear and shame she felt leaking out of her heart back inside before Emi could notice. She had a friend, her first friend, right before her eyes. She had a true chance at happiness, even if it proved only temporary.

No matter what, she wasn’t going to blow it.

“H-Hi, Yumo.” Druce began, forcing a pleasant smile onto her face, putting herself back into her practiced informal speech. “Nice to meet ya.”

Later that night, after a movie with Emi and Yumo, ice cream, and a cold glass of fresh juice, Druce laid on an inflatable mattress on Emi’s bedroom floor, trying to quiet her heart so she could sleep. She had at most three weeks to get it right, to perfect how to be the Druce she’d never had the chance to be—and she couldn’t for the life of her stop thinking about tomorrow, and infinite tomorrows, with the people she’d just met.

Dangerous thoughts for someone like her who had built this friendship on secrets and lies.

She was daring herself to throw caution to the wind.