Realistic or Modern Hell is a Stranger

[joekid]

It didn’t look like that much when he was packing, but now that he realized every one of the boxes stacked at his side was going to have to be carried up flight after flight of narrow, winding staircases, Vadim sighed in exasperation. The first one he picked up was heavy, so heavy he nearly dropped it right back on the stack, catching himself at the last minute. Definitely the lab equipment box, he noted, making sure to be careful with this one in particular.

Every step of the staircases screeched under his step. The spots on the wallpaper that kissed the tops of the steps were all yellowed, some nearly blackened. The distinct smell of ash clung to the ugly flowery design, nearly nauseating.“ At least it's smoking friendly,” he muttered to himself, trying to find little comforts where he could. He could deal with the building itself, the way the pipes clanged with effort but still left the building impossibly cold. He could deal with rats in the walls, roached under his bed, all of that was bearable. It was the fact that he had so many people living *around* him now that was the worst of it.

He could be finished with the boxes in a manner of minutes if could simply force himself to knock on any of the numbered doors he’d passed along the way, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t bring himself to introduce himself, let alone ask for help. Just the thought of someone looking at him struggling with his things with that pitiful expression, all that pity in their voice as they’d say ‘You poor thing, don’t you need help?’ made him sick.

‘You poor thing’.

‘Poor, pathetic thing.”

He found himself standing in front of his door, glancing over the rusting gold letters on the door three times over just to be sure he had the right one. He ran his slender finger through his hair, taking in a grounding breath. He was so close, all he had to do was open the door and rush inside and he’d be free from the fear of running into anyone he didn’t know. Reaching into his pocket to sort out which key was for the apartment made it hard to balance the box in his opposite hand. As if time was slowed, he watched in horror as a tine glass vile slipped from its cardboard container and shattered on the ground. Shards darted in all directions, the sound of breaking glass feeling like it was as loud as a nuclear explosion to Vadim. “Dermo!” he cussed in his native tongue, dropping to his knees to grab the shards.

The sound of footsteps inside apartment buildings and possibly on the staircase threatened that someone could appear any moment. Someone could walk in on him crumpled on the group cleaning up a mess he’d made within five minutes of being there. It was pathetic. That would be worse than anything. Or at least, it felt that way. The promise of such an awful interaction made his hands tremble, and it wasn’t long before a shard nicked him, slicing up his thumb, right along a rosy, bony, knuckle. Viscous blood trailed its way down quickly, gravity carrying the tiny crimson river down his wrist. “Great,” he spoke dryly, tired eyes finding themselves even more sullen.

 

[thother]

It was meant to be a quick trip for something small, just some more pins for his work, but Jae-Hwa was nothing if not curious. A dead silence surrounded him in a way that was eerie as he walked through the rotting streets, quietly kicking pebbles off to the side. He was, more than anything, completely exhausted. He'd been up all night attempting to finish a large display for a client, and now he was paying for it, as he rubbed his neck with a low sigh.

He paused at the sight of his home, smiling to himself. Despite what many people thought of the place, of the rotting walls and the mold that surrounded it, Jae-Hwa found a comfort. It was, by all means, an awful place. He knew this, he would admit it, but it was easily where he felt the most real parts of people came out. People living in hell squirming in desperation to grasp at any straw of faith, the truest form of human. It was a sight he was always in love with, the idea that these people surrounding him were like butterflies. Cocooned in their ignorance and idealistic views of the future, only to metamorphose into butterflies when those hopes were crushed.

Pulling himself from his own thoughts, he pulled his bag up, flinging his over his shoulder as he began walking up the narrow stairway. These stairs that he saw every day only seemed to grow more narrow with each day that passed. He wondered, vaguely, if there would be a day he would not be able to claw his way back into this place.

His thought cycle was broken when he noticed a young man kneeling on the floor, seemingly hunched over in an attempt to clean what looked like... glass up. Jae-Hwa felt himself smile, though it was nothing like the smile he gave to people's faces. He quickly shook it off, keeping himself from letting that become what he would show anyone. He was quick to set his bag beside his own door, not bothering to throw it in for the moment. No one dared to touch his stuff anyway, for a multitude of reasons, but mainly because it was all useless to anyone outside of his profession anyway.

"Well, looks like you're having a rough day," he voiced, awkwardly letting out a laugh. Despite how warm and friendly it appeared, there was an almost echo of mockery to it. Nothing sincere, just a slight twinge. He didn't let it register for long as he squatted down, pausing at the sight of blood. "And you got injured. Guess I wasn't wrong on the rough day, huh?" he asked, smiling. It was friendly, truly, but there was too much teeth in it and far too much joy. Rather than pity, he almost looked happy. It was unnerving to most people, Jae-Hwa knew this, but he wanted to have his fun. Especially if one looked into his mind to see the array of thoughts all bustling to shove themselves to the front. One thought did, a small, rotten thought drenched in a red candy coating. Cute.

"I've got a broom and a few bandages, I'll go grab them. You should probably put this stuff away before anything else gets broken," he said, tone airy and playful as he stood up. He paused, though, and put his hand out to help the other man stand. He was purposefully making sure he didn't stand at full height, but it was hard to tell if it was that or he was looming. The way he stood made it hard to tell which way the action swayed, but his never-ending smile seemed to point towards a friendly action.

 

[joekid]

The trail of the blood was mesmerizing to watch. The way his very essence was seeping out of him in the tiny streak down his arm was somehow hypnotizing. Vadim could feel his pulse just under the skin of the cut and couldn’t help but marvel at how fragile everything was. Glass, skin, souls, hearts, all of it was so easily broken, all could be ruined in a moment. He twisted his hand, pressing on the wound to watch more gush out. Later he would lie to himself, say the pressure was applied to stop the bleeding, but really, he didn’t know why he’d done it. He pushed harder, amber eyes glazed over as he did so.

The thud of a bag hitting the dirty linoleum hallway was the thing to snap him back to reality. In an instant he registered there was a man in front of him, and the silhouette alone made him jump, breath hitching in his throat. He couldn’t bring himself to look up, to meet the man’s gaze. To see that pity filled look only to be ignored as soon as the stranger felt as though they’d done their good deed for the day, helping some hopeless kid. His eyes instead locked on the smear of his blood on the ground. “I’m-” his voice came out hoarse, too soft to hear. With a cough, he cleared his throat. “I’m fine, please just pretend I’m not here,” he managed to choke out, tongue feeling awkward in his mouth and his own voice hurting his ears.

Vadim forced himself to peel his eyes off the bloodstain and look at the man in front of him, bracing for the worst. And then the strangest thing happened, The man was smiling. Not a hint of pity there. But also, none of the emotions associated with smiling. No joy, no humor, and yet there was a flash of neat, white teeth right there in front of him. It was….bizarre, but refreshing in a way. Vadim tilted his head to the side, brows furrowing as he tried to decipher why the man was smiling. The other man was very handsome, absurdly so even. It felt strange seeing someone so...put together in a place as run down as this. Everything about him felt out of place, parts put together that shouldn’t; an exquisite corpse of sorts.

There was a hand hovering in front of him now, and Vadim stared at it for a few moments, not entirely registering what to do with it. If someone else had done this, he likely would have rejected the offer, using the wall as a support to crawl up on his own, which would’ve ended horrible considering...the condition. But somehow, the offer was inviting. Still trembling just a bit, he placed his hand in the stranger’s before noticing how cold his own hands were in comparison, fingertips warming in the other’s palm. "I really wouldn’t want to impede,” he began to protest.

The man’s beam persisted, not faltering for a second. “Erm….did I….do something funny?” Vadim slammed his palm into his head to scold himself for such an out of place question, laughing too loudly and too awkwardly to cover up the blunder. “Sorry I’m supposed to ask your name or something first, right? That's...neighborly, yeah? This is what happens when you spend too many nights studying.” He laughed again, and it sounded strained. The truth was that he had never been properly socialized, but this gave him the appearance of a normal person having a bad day, not a bad person having a normal day.

Once back on his feet, Vadim clicked his door open, placing the box of vials and gears and wires down on the ground. He plucked an empty bottle from the box and held it at the base of his wound, letting blood seep into the container.

 

[thother]

"I wouldn't offer anything that would impede me, trust me," Jae-Hwa replied, smile never fading for even a moment. He did seem to take a small pause to look at the blood, eyes sharp and ever focused. He didn't see blood as often as one would think as a taxidermist, but his profession did rely more towards insects. The sight of red coating the back of the other's hand was enough to make him shiver. The feeling of cold fingers resting in his hand added to it as well, but he didn't let himself falter for much longer.

He laughed then, loud and sincere at the awkward attempts of interaction. This was his favourite kind of meeting with people, the one where his presence was nothing other than another worry to add to a list. Call him a bully, but he had a bit of fun with people like this, watching them flounder to not sound as awkward as they felt was nothing short of tantalizing.

"Being neighborly here is hardly a concern, so don't worry too much," he said, letting the hand drop as he went to grab the broom and a few band-aids. Both the broom and the first aid kit were in the living room, easy access for himself given his own tendency to accidentally stick himself like a pin cushion. "After all, all the neighbors are," he paused, smiling to himself as he gripped the first aid kit, standing up right, "Rarely friendly," he called out, walking right back out from his apartment.

For a moment, he paused, watching the shorter with something intense in his eyes. It was only for a second, but he knew well that he was growing excited. New people rarely stayed here long, always leaving behind this apartment as soon as possible. Well, he might be part of the reason for that, but he was hardly going to outright say it. "You just happened to run into the friendliest one," but for some reason, that felt like a complete lie.

He waved the other closer, setting down the broom for a moment and keeping the first aid kit in the other hand. He took the hand that had been injured, looking at the crimson mess that seemed to be slowing down. He didn't treat it gently, instead moving the thumb around to reopen the wound and pressing on it as fresh red came out. The smile that was unnatural and cold seemed to almost warm at the sight, swiping his own thumb across the wound. He didn't take a look at the other's face, heavily focusing only on the injury. "I'm Jae-Hwa Satomi, if you must know, though. You're lucky, this doesn't need stitches. I'm a little disappointed, I haven't gotten to stitch an injury up in a while," despite how joking he sounded, there was a pang of truth behind it. Small, but there. He moved to open the kit, letting go of the injury. He paused at the sight of blood on his own thumb, sticking it in his mouth to lap it up casually before grabbing the bandages from the little white box.

 

[joekid]

Vadim placed the vile of his own blood down gently back into the box. That would be for later, when most of his manic ideas struck him. He listened to the other’s slightly distant voice, recognizing that they lived right next to each other. “Thank you,” he smiled to himself, a small one, but genuine. Human kindness had been a rare commodity in his life.

The promise of the other neighbors being unfriendly was both a blessing and curse. On one hand maybe they would ignore him entirely, but on the other, who knew what beratement or bizarre hazing they may put him through as the newest addition to their rotting home. “Ah, I see,” he replied awkwardly, rubbing at the back of his neck in a futile attempt at self soothing. This man was doing everything right, offering an act of kindness, keeping small talk light and personable...and somehow it felt as though he was already in the mouth of the beast. He swallowed, speaking with a weak enthusiasm, “Lucky me.”

Vadim could feel eyes on the back of his neck, waiting a moment to see just how long this stranger would stare at him before breaking the silent voyeurism. A single moment felt like hours and he couldn’t take it any longer, spinning around to meet the other. “A-Are those the bandaids?” he asked, voice high and uncomfortable. “Of course they are, what am I saying,” he quickly amended, letting his hand be taken into the other’s.

The pressure on his wound was startling. He winced, even letting out a pathetic little whimper from the surprise of it. He refused to pull away though, forcing himself to withstand the momentary torture. Vadim tried to justify that the other man was a bit clumsy, but the hands patching him up showed no sign of uncertainty or squeamishness.

The comment about stitching him up made the hair on the back of his neck stick up. “I must have a rabbit’s foot with all the luck I seem to have,” he tried to make it sound sincere, but there was a deep exhaustion behind the words. For a moment there was silence before he remembered the natural next step in the conversation would be to introduce himself as well. “I’m Vadim,” he stated simply, not bothering to give a surname. Not like it mattered anyway. With his specialization in anatomy he could’ve easily bandaged himself, but something held his limbs firmly in place, dead weight at his side while Jae-Hwa worked.

At this distance he could see the color of his neighbor’s eyes, a color so bright it was nearly impossible. It was radioactive and sickly and gorgeous all at once. Vadim shot his gaze down when he felt himself staring and began to gnaw at the nails of his undamaged hand. Make conversation, he scolded himself. “So uh...I hear the last tenant left in a bit of a hurry…” The words fell away as he watched the near stranger’s finger coated in his blood slowly lift to his mouth. “Wait-!” He gripped the other’s wrist in a rare moment of boldness, only to watch the blood be lapped up.

There was a point in his life when people wouldn’t touch him, let alone anything like this.

He sat back on his heels with a dumbstruck look, mouth left slightly agape. The grip his hand had on Jae-Hwa’s wrist immediately slacked and he ripped his hand back like he’d been burned. His golden eyes were wide, rimmed by the bruise color of his eyelids and under eyes. “My apologies, I just- It’s not safe to…” something grave overtook him, “You don’t know me.”

 

[thother]

"Vadim," he muttered it quietly, thoughts seeming to race behind toxic colored eyes. "Vadim," he repeated it, though the way he said it came out odd. Something close to a prayer, quiet and only for the two standing in the hallway to hear. Jae-Hwa hardly considered himself a religious man, he was far from one, but the whispered prayer in the rotting dumpster of the house was enough to convince him of something far, far greater than himself. His smile, all tooth and malicious intent, softened only the slightest at the repeat of the name.

He nearly laughed out at the conversation being snuffed out by his own actions, an almost playful look overtaking the once friendly and warm demeanor. Despite it, though, there was something almost dark about it. Something far too joyous about what he'd just done and the reaction it received. "Ah, I'm sorry, that must have seemed weird. In my family, we tend to take injuries into the mouth. An old wives' tale about human saliva helping or something like that, so it's an old habit to break," he replied, but there wasn't a hint of truth to his voice.

"But, you know," his form began to loom then, a slow lean just enough to make direct eye contact. Honey gold meeting toxic green, the quiet sounds of people rummaging through their own apartments seemingly stopping for the time, the only noise being the sound of breathing and skittering of rats in the walls. "No one knows anyone. And I'm sure," he smiled, but this time he didn't bother hiding it in flowery friendliness, "You'll come to see, we'll know each other better than anyone else in this rotten shit hole."

Standing back up without hesitation, his demeanor changed once more. Back to the natural, friendly way of existing, he didn't show any signs of the comment he had just made. Instead, he seemed to be back where he was in the beginning as he began wrapping the injury up. "Oh right, the old tenant. I know the landlady said he skipped without paying, but we never interacted. After he insulted my pets, I made it clear I had no want to talk to him," he replied, frowning only at the mention of insults to his pets.

Now, those pets happened to be Scolopendridae Gigantea centipedes that he allowed out into the apartment halls, but that was besides the point. Insulting a man's pet was akin to insulting the man himself, and for someone like Jae-Hwa, that was hardly going to do.

Finishing up the bandaging, he lifted to the hand up to check his own work out. He considered it a good job, especially considering the fact he had reopened the wound and all not but two minutes ago. He moved to open his own door, throwing the first aid kit randomly into the apartment. He had no issues cleaning up whatever fell, especially with his good mood.

"Just a small tip, the person in room 506 just down the hall is incredibly unfriendly. Just avoid eye contact and you should be fine, everyone else tends to mind themselves well if you don't get in their way," he commented, moving to grab the broom. "And the couple in 510 are swingers, so they'll probably invite you over sometime," and while it seemed like he was joking, there was definitely some truth to it.

 

[joekid]

Hearing his own name spoken with such tenderness sent him back years in his mind, years when there were still people who felt such affection toward him. Still, it was incomparable to the way he heard it now. A gospel, a leap of faith, something sacred and holy and untouched by all the filth that he practically drowned in. “...Yes?” He asked, wondering if maybe the repetition of his name was for a more practical reason.

The explanation was odd, but it was practical enough for Vadim to cling onto. Any other option was simply too much for him to even begin to fathom. The idea of ingesting and exchanging blood reminded him of the way children in alleys would slice open their palms and bleed on one another. It was a promise, a tie, an unbreakable bond. He felt himself now somehow bound to the grinning creature before him, like they were truly tied by a red string of fate. Theirs was sinewy though, all ooze and ichor.

Vadim found himself scooting backwards a bit as his neighbor loomed further and further. He seemed to stretch impossibly long, like a shadow at noon. Honey eyes darted all around the face before him. The smile brought about images of dogs baring their teeth. Not a smile, but a threat. A thinly veiled one at that. Perhaps not veiled at all. “Human beings are truly unknowable,” he spoke quietly, but not timidly, “And I suspect neither of us will change that fact any time soon.”

It was a fragile attempt to set a boundary, but it died on arrival. Vadim somehow felt that this man was looking right through him, he was observing all his secrets, the stains on his soul, the lies and hidden parts that no one would ever know. Under this gaze, he was glass, and if this man chose to do so, he could topple him over with a flick and shatter him like the vial. “...but I guess time will tell,” he retreated, admitting defeat that their fates were inevitably tied, whether he liked it or not.

“I’ll be sure to mark 506 as a hostile one in my notes.” The comment about swingers made a blotchy patch of rouge tinge the high point of his face and the collar around his neck feel entirely too hot and too tight. He lodged a slender finger against his collar and tugged at it to release the uncomfortable feeling. “Oh no, I uh- I highly doubt that,” he spoke awkwardly, never comprehending the idea of someone being attracted to him let alone such an explicit offer.

The comment about pets sparked his interest, “Ah, you’re fond of animals?” There was a genuine spark of excited curiosity in his voice, sunken features lighting up for just a moment. An idea crossed his mind, and he was almost too scared to go through with it. Almost.“Um...may I- could I show you something?” Stepping inside his own apartment, he rummaged through the box of lab equipment, smiling at the little trinket once he’d found it.

Vadim presented the tiny thing with both arms outstretched, like a shy child presenting artwork, “It’s still in progress, there’s definitely a lot kinks that need to be worked out and the aerodynamics are nowhere near where they’d like to be even though I've made the frame as light as I can possibly-” Catching himself in a ramble, he clammed up, looking down like a kicked dog for the mistake. “Well, anyway…” With the turn of a small gear, the tiny gold ball in his palm revealed a series of panels, all of which outstretched and reformed neatly to create a tiny metallic bird. It whirred and tilted its head this way and that, playing a tinny sounding tune from inside of it. Quickly though, the sound turned warped and the small gears stuttered. “Ugh,” he groaned, disappointed at his side project. “That’s prototypes for you, I never have the time to fix it with everything else I’m working on,” he spoke sadly, but there was just enough comfortability for there to be humor too. “I don’t mean to keep you, I’m sure you have better things to do now.”

 

[thother]

"Ah, I was just testing it out," Jae-Hwa replied without much care, though he didn't seem to truly put effort into the excuse. He knew well that it could come off as weird, but he wasn't bothered. At the end of the day, he was more than willing to give explanation to those who asked.

He didn't hesitate to smile at the reply he gained, though this one almost seemed sincere. Excited, even. Filled with a childlike amusement at the idea of being opposed against, even if only for a moment. Fighting for survival was inherent, in both humans and animals. That fight, the fire that existed in every being, but easily snuffed out, was something that he could truly say he enjoyed. A fire that burned so brightly it could blind him, but so easily put out with two thumbs, it was truly remarkable.

"I wonder if that's true. After all, when one bears oneself to another in the most hideous of ways, you truly see the depths of both their souls," he hummed it out, playful and noncommittal. A promise carried within it, quiet and unmarred by shame. There wasn't a hint of concern for what was being said, nor what it meant for what may come. It was simply a truth to him, one that carried consequences, but one he was dedicated to. He knew that this was the set path for downfall, be it his own or someone else's, he didn't truly care. He was more than happy to accept whatever came, even if it meant lying down like a dog to die. He was sure it was very, very worth it.

His head tilted at the question, but he nodded, casually leaning against an ashen wall. He had no issue with the squalor, finding no problems with leaning against it casually. He waited, eyes never leaving the other's face until it finally landed on the tiny metallic bird. Truth be told, he didn't know a thing about mechanical engineering in any way, he was hardly ever the type to seek it out. Despite that, he found himself smiling in a true, genuine manner at the little project right in front of him. He didn't know how someone would make something like that, even if Vadim didn't seem impressed with his own work. "I think you're being quite hard on yourself, I've never seen anything like this," he replied, surprisingly earnest in his tone.

He leaned in, not the same looming way he did before but a sincere lean, looking at it closely. "It's cute, even if it's not fully functional yet, it's something to be proud of. I'd buy it, if it was for sale," he said, a genuine joy in his tone. He wasn't allowed many material things in his life before he moved, so he tended towards minimalism as an adult outside of his taxidermy, but there was something genuinely charming about the little bird. "Do you have any others? If this is simple a prototype, I can't imagine what anything else you have is like," he smiled, a real, true smile at the shorter for the first time. Standing back up at his full height, he laughed out at the comment of better things to do. He was hardly busy most of the time, most of his money being passive income from other sources and his family anyway. Even his job was more of a hobby than a necessity, something he did to pass his time more than anything. It was a passion, of course, but not one he needed to focus all his time on, even if he tended to.

"Hardly, I'm taking a break from work. Besides, importance for what I do is up to me, no? So if I decide you're what's important right now," his voice dropped an octave, deepening and quiet amongst the soft bustling of city and the apartment, "Then you'll be the only thing on my mind for the moment." A promise, a threat, or something close to both, whatever it was, it was something far greater than Jae-Hwa let it seem.

 

[joekid]

Vadim smiled, slowly letting it split his face open. It revealed a small gap in his teeth between his canine and its adjacent tooth, something he’d always felt self conscious about. Well, one of many things. Something between a crease and a dimple appeared on his face when he smiled, and he felt it burrow into his cheek. That was his indication to himself that he was smiling, and he reflexively placed his hand over his mouth to hide it away. He’d always thought his smile was ugly. Too wide on his narrow face and too out of place against his sad, sunken eyes.

“You don’t have to be polite,” he whispered, still smiling behind his hand despite the protests. “But…” a warmth overtook him, pushing him to accept the compliment, “Th-Thank you. That means a lot to hear. But I couldn’t sell it. I feel attached to them, I’ve spent their whole lives with them.” Vadim retreated within himself again, cradling the bird in a cage of his bony fingers and letting it rest in the box. “Most of my work is more practical than this, but there’s something peaceful in breathing life into things that weren’t meant to live.”

Things that weren’t meant to live, how crushingly close to home.

Rummaging through the boxes he’d already brought up, he allowed himself to rant just this once. “A lot of my research involves combining mechanical engineering and human anatomy to create medical devices,” he entwined his fingers together to represent his two fields of study combining for his mission. “Things that could save lives, end suffering, end negative feelings of any kind…” his head started to spin wild with ideas, all of the ones constantly racing around on how to fix the terrible world he’d been forced into. “With the right mixture of organic and industrialized materials, there isn’t anything that can’t be done in relation to the human condition.” Standing was tiring. Everything was tiring. Vadim ignored the growing pain in his body and sat down on the edge of his empty bed frame.



“But those things will take quite a bit of time before I can reach that point…” with a vague gesture he showed off how few possessions he owned. “As you can see I don’t exactly have the funding required for the equipment those kinds of experiments require.” He sighed wistfully, turning another trinket in his hand, this one a device that looked much more abstract. “Even if I did, the Academy I attend seems to prioritize security over progress, so it’d take years to do things the proper way.”

Which is why I don’t, he wanted to say.
Which is why I do what I have to do instead, he wanted to scream.

All the attention was making him nearly lightheaded, heart racing and fluttering inside his rib cage.

Important.

Vadim had never been important. Never the priority, barely valued. It was so genuinely surprising that the terrible thought this may be a cruel joke overtook him, making his face pale for a second...but the way Jae-Hwa’s voice dropped, the serious tone in his voice sniffed the fear right out of him. “I suppose you can choose where your priorities lie,” he mumbled out, face crimson from the spotlight being shone upon him. This was the most he’d spoken in months outside of an academic setting. His own voice felt weird to hear for so long, it’s hoarseness scratching against his throat when he spoke. “God I’m sick of hearing myself talk, what uhm— what is it that you do?”

 

[thother]

A smile. Jae-Hwa knew then exactly what he was reminded of with that smile, so large and imperfect in ways that made his heart sing. He was reminded of his work, a longing to cut something open and preserve it for the rest of time. To have such a perfect being in a display case, trapped between glass and the board, pinned only for his eyes to see. A specimen of absolute perfection. Many would assume what he wanted out of a specimen was something entirely perfect, but that was never the case. One of a kind. That was what he wanted, someone who was one of a kind, who could never be replicated by some shoddy loser. And he had found it in this hell hole, trapped in rotting wood and cigarette smoke smelling rooms, having been wasted for years. He was hardly going to allow that, even if it ended in dirt hitting his own coffin.

"I don't do anything to be polite," he replied without any form of hesitation, nodding to himself. He didn't, at least not for the benefit of others, and he wasn't doing it now. He had no need to, not when he was genuinely feeling the way he did. "I can understand why you wouldn't want to sell, though. They're beautiful little creatures. And besides, I don't think if something is practical, it's somehow worth more. Practicality is highly dependent on who you speak to, and for something like this, I don't think it affects the worth. It's nice, regardless of what it can be used for," he said, lost in thought for a moment. The idea of practicality was something he truly didn't care for, though that might be because he had hobbies that had little to no practicality anyway.

He watched with an intensity that could rival the sun, a stare so hot and yet distant that it was hard to tell what he was thinking behind green eyes and his hand now pressed under his chin. He nodded along to the commentary, not bothered at all by any form of ranting, seeming to put genuine thought into his reply.

"I think it's amazing to be able to do that. Being able to change human condition with things like mechanics and the like, it's something to be proud of. Even if it's a slow go, it's still a go," he replied, moving to lean himself back against a wall, unbothered by the small amount of ash that seemed to poof behind him. "It's like rekindling a fire, in a way. Human life is something close to that, being able to protect it and nurture it through machinery is rather close to rekindling and taming a fire. Then again, fires are dangerous. Perhaps you should watch yourself, Icarus, before you fly too close to the sun and find out what fire does," the words were a threat, though it didn't seem to be from himself. Human greed was something Jae-Hwa was all too familiar with, the ability to ignore others suffering for your own gain being as normal as breathing to him in childhood. He wasn't threatening Vadim, not this time, he was warning him. A reminder that people are dangerous and greedy, and that they would do anything if it meant their own survival. A cold reminder, but one from a genuine place, if anything. He paused at the money portion, though, he smiled to himself mainly. "Hmm, well, perhaps money won't always be an issue. As much as it is now, I'm sure something will come to you," a very, very vague answer. An omen, even.

He tilted his head when asked what he did, letting out a light laugh. "Ah, I'm a taxidermist. Specifically for insects, though. I was an entomologist for a time, but I've found that taxidermy suits me quite well. Seeing something I make last forever," he paused, smiling widely, a weird mix of sadistic and prideful while remaining sincere, "Truly fills me with joy. Finding the perfect specimen, a one of a kind, always makes my day. Though, I am greedy with it. If I find a specimen I find perfect," he moved then, walking towards the bed frame and looming once more, overshadowing Vadim for a moment. "I keep it."

"Even if it bites and fights for its life to get away from me," he whispered, low and quiet, " I keep it. "

 

[joekid]

Vadim hovered a hand over his shoulder blade, a ghostly pain for where his wings used to be, grieving for the child he once was. The person he was before hell became earth and survival became obsession. The person he was before he’d run his fingertips raw from writing equation after equation on the walls with chalk that had been whittled down to a nub. The person he was before steel met blood and the remnants of his sanity started to dwindle. That poor boy was already dead. Plummeted into the sea and drowned in an ocean of his own tears, “Oh don’t worry,” there was a deep sadness in his voice, “I burned up a long time ago.”

The image of fire permeated his thoughts. The smell of kerosene, the way dark ash could cloud and coat the inside of the lungs in a manner of moments, the blast of heat too close to the skin that would leave it bubbling and boiling just beneath the surface. He shuddered. The world had scorched him, warned him of the dangers of what he was doing. Professors especially so, always being sure to add a hollow, ‘Take care of yourself’ when rejecting his proposals. The consequences of being burned so many times over were obvious in the way he curled away from everything. And here was another opportunity to be scorched, staring right at him, and he couldn’t look away. Getting close to this person would be dangerous; disastrous even. And still, for as intelligent as Vadim was, that one lesson never clicked. The lesson to know when to stop.

“That’s fascinating,” there was genuine awe in his voice and a dark curiosity in his eyes, ‘I didn’t realize our professions were so alike, defying all the...death and decay and rot.” Vadim played with his own fingers, fidgeting and twisting them together this way and that, never being able to sit still, to feel truly at ease, but especially not under the predatory gaze he was under. If Jae-Hwa was the beauty in preservation, then he was the horror. Pain throbbed through his torso, but he hid it as well as he could. “Well, I suppose everyone does that, in a way. Tries to defy all of that, even if they don't realize it,” he smiled again, lopsided but trying to be earnest, “You and I just get paid for it.”

He swallowed thickly, feeling pressure crush down on him as the other loomed and edged closer. For a moment he truly felt like a specimen being appraised, trapped beneath glass with pinned limbs. The way he treasured his small metal golems was a feeling they were unable to return to him. He could smile and speak their praises and cradle them in his hands for an eternity; but they would never be able to make him feel that same way. But now, in this moment, he felt treasured in that same regard by an almost complete stranger. It was addicting. To be looked at like he was a real person was addicting enough, but all the compliments and attention madeit near impossible to reject. A fresh shot of pain spiked up his spine to the top of his skull, this one making him wince. He wanted to get up to reach his box of medications, but with Jae-Hwa on the bed frame now, he somehow felt trapped

His morbid curiosity began to itch at his brain and he shifted on the bed frame, facing the other slightly more directly. Eye contact was proving difficult, but he forced himself to glance up, a stray curl falling over his face. He knew he shouldn’t press, that it would be inviting something that he shouldn’t. But he never learned his lesson. “What…” one of his knuckles cracked with how harshly he was intertwining and pressing them together. A third pang of pain came and it made him hiss between his teeth.

“What do you do to them?”

 

[thother]

Frowning, mainly to himself, Jae-Hwa let out a low, humming noise. Something of an understanding, quiet and just there for both of them to hear. As he finally moved, taking a seat, he looked at the other. Eyes full of a quiet understanding of disappointment, of being left to rot and burn under the scorching sun, and most of all, a sense of anger. Not the red, hot kind of anger one would see on someone close to throwing a tantrum and hurting someone, nor the cold anger that was calculative and derivative of a plan... No, this anger was something far different. Something far, far worse than any normal anger, something dangerous and deadly.

"Then, perhaps," he moved, not as fast as a skittering cockroach nor a centipede, but a slow movement, pressing stray hairs back before his hand finally rested on the top of Vadim's head, "This world should burn as well." It was so quiet and one would think it was to himself from how much he seemed to be thinking, as if burning the entire world was something he could conjure up. A concerning notion, especially with how sincere and serious he seemed to be, but that was hardly left to dwell upon as he changed right back to where he had been, dropping his arm at his side. It wasn't visible by any means, but the feeling of his hand flexing tightly, gripping what had once been hair, felt comforting.

"Human nature is to attempt to defy death and rot," Jae-Hwa replied, leaning back on his hands. "The difference between us and them, though, is we see it daily. They get to sit in their ignorance, writhing and crying, but when you look into the cracks, rot is everywhere. Never ending, a plague that only grows and grows as one exists," he muttered, smiling. His thoughts went to his childhood home, blood stained and decaying with the deaths that came into it, the sights of men having their chests cut open and explored like a clock being taken apart and put back together.

He watched each movement, the small wince followed by the hiss, the anxious intertwining of fingers, all of it. He drank it up like he was a dehydrated man in the desert, lavishing in the last bits of water he may ever see. His own little oasis in a vast, barren expanse, only for his eyes and his mouth to see and feel.

The question seemed to bring him out of his gaze, quirking a brow as he thought on how to respond, letting out a low noise to fill the void between the question and answer. "Are you asking... about the bugs, or the people?" he questioned, a grin placing itself on his face, all tooth once more. "I'm joking," he quickly tacked on, but there was something quiet reminding him that he was not. "It depends on the bug, but for large beetles like I tend to enjoy doing, you need to crack the wing casings to let the wings spread. I always spread the wings of an insect if possible, but a few of my favourite specimens can't spread their wings. When that happens, I open the wing casings and dry it so they'll stay open and we can see the injuries to the wings. It's beautiful, really, having a one of a kind specimen like those. No one else has one like the injured ones since they aren't seen as 'perfect', but they're my favourites. They fought to survive with those inconveniences, who would I be to not find a beauty in that?" he asked, a surprisingly genuine smile replacing the once playful grin. "Bugs are just as human in survival, fighting to do whatever it takes. Those without the means to survive that have managed to reach my board in death... I want to spoil them."

 

[joekid]

He retreated from the hand for the briefest moment like a dog refusing to accept a hand of comfort as it’s only used to being hit. The hand in his hair was nice, too nice even. The hand was warm and settled itself nicely between the the swirls of his dark hair. It wouldn’t matter even if the world did burn. Suffering would persist even in ash, that was simply the way of things.

Vadim wasn’t often an angry person, but the thought that so many could live in ignorance of death for most of their lives made him want to scream his throat raw. It’s not fair. It’s not fair it’s not fair it’s not fair, he hissed inside his thoughts, jaw so tight it was a miracle his teeth didn’t crumble beneath the pressure. “They don’t understand,” he agreed, a deep seeded rage hidden in the words. “They can turn off thinking about it, they can pretend they’re immortal.”

It took a moment from him to process the joke, and despite there being something chilling about it, he forced himself to laugh, too high and too loud.

Hearing the taxidermy process and especially Jae-Hwa’s philosophy on it was captivating. The idea that those creatures that persisted, the one who endured trauma and were left broken could still be valued made something in his chest ignite. Without thinking his hand drifted down to his own left thigh, letting his fingers drift down until the soft skin under his pant leg turned hard and artificial where his knee was. “You really think that?” It was barely more than a whisper, the tiniest smile threatened to crack open his face again. “It’s not often people...have that mentality.”

Children dismissed broken toys.
Run down cars were crushed and compacted to scrap metal.
Lame dogs were put out of their misery.

Diseases and crippled little boys were left all alone.

But for a second, the world felt like those things weren’t always true.

Vadim finally willed himself to get off the bed frame, slumping into a rickety chair and the tiny wooden desk that was left behind.

“Oh, I suppose I should mention,” Vadim spoke flatly, a joyless little smile on his face. A smile that was somehow sadder than if he’d burst into tears right then and there, “I’m dying. More than the average person that is.”

He let his head lull back, curls at the nape of his neck that stuck out in all directions brushing against his sweater. The ceiling was that gaudy popcorn type, the plasticine looking like it was melting off. How ugly, he remarked, wondering if that would be the last thing he’d ever see. A water damaged, ugly ceiling. “I figured someone here should know, just so you know what happened if this apartment starts getting a fly problem,” his voice was low and cynical, bitter and cold. Entirely removed. “Also so that the police don’t have to bother with a suicide or homicide investigation,” a pale finger traced the scuffs and grooves of his little desk, “I wouldn’t want to inconvenience anyone with that.”

“There won’t be a funeral,” he continued dismissively. “Maybe a few of my professors will try to organize one, but I left them all notes to read after I die that ask them to please not.” His fingertip lodged into one particularly deep groove, scratching at it to deepen it. “I can’t bear the thought of people forcing themselves to talk about me, struggling to come up with a nice thing to say or to talk up any small accomplishment I made to make it seem like my life meant something.” Vadim sighed, dark eyelids settling halfway along his golden irises. “That would be the most pitiful thing I could think of.”

 

[thother]

The small retreat was enough to tell Jae-Hwa that something was going to need to be done. Whether it was destroying every person in the city, the country, anything, something needed to be done. No one should flinch like that from simple affections, though he supposed he was hypocritical in that way. He was hardly the gentle person in most relationships, even now he could hardly consider himself gentle.

A small nod, an understanding of what was being said. "They can pretend they don't have to face death," he replied, though there was no anger. An understanding of the world, tired and uncaring of what people pretended to be. He knew all too well that people pretended that, his own father was someone who saw himself invincible, but Jae-Hwa knew better. Knew that every person bled when stabbed enough, choked when forced to drink for minutes on end, and died when the adrenaline wore out. He knew, and he did not care that others didn't. Not anymore.

"Of course. Unlike most people, I find the fight for survival the most beautiful part of humanity. That fire, that need to be. Fighting until the very end, that very last breath," he hummed, quiet and soft, surprisingly warm, "It's my favourite thing to see. A matinee with no ending, finally closed with a song of praise by my hands." And though they were gentle hands, caring in death and loving, they were rotting those corpses. Infecting them with the greed of want, the greed of being needed, and the quiet, childish jealousy of being seen before. A terrifying mix of things that Jae-Hwa always felt towards his specimen, though they never knew, considering their death was already sealed. So he kept them in cases, hidden away in a shoddy apartment, to never be seen again. A curtain call that only he would see, and only he would applaud, but a curtain call nonetheless.

Death always seems to loom. It was surprising, but Jae-Hwa could see the exhaustion now. The tired movements, the want to be left alone, the dying wish to not be pitied. It made sense now, more than it ever had. Perfect specimen always ended up at his table dead, but this time, he'd been given one alive. He'd infect him long before death, and he was fine with that.

He tightened his grip, nails digging into his palm until he felt the familiar warmth of blood pooling under his nails. He nodded his understanding, at least as best he could, knowing that he was never in the position of dying like that. He'd dealt with death, both of other people and even within himself at times, but nothing like this. Nothing so candid about the withering of a person, the decay of their spirit and the exhaustion of constant fighting. It was beautiful in it's own way, but an angering process to see in real time. A reminder that this sort of thing would never end, even if the world was dipped in embalming fluid.

"Then shall I make an attempt at breaking your wing casing?" the words came before the thought did. "I haven't had a specimen with burnt wings before," he said, low and quiet. A reminder of the Icarus remarks, but more than anything, an appraisal. Not said in words, but in actions and thoughts. A one of a kind specimen.

The perfect specimen.

 

[joekid]

Vadim let his head fall onto the desk, feeling the little splinters digging into his cheekbone. “I’m scared,” he stated it simply. To others it would sound apathetic , but there was simply too much feeling behind the words to put into his voice. “Isn’t that pathetic? I watch things die everyday. I know everything there is to know about dying. What chemicals release at what time, what happens to every organ and every muscle. It’s really not even that complicated. Everyone that has ever lived has gone through it.” He placed the little gold bird on his desk and watched it flutter and chirp. “But I’m still so terrified.”

“I just want to live long enough to save one person,” his voice was starting to tremble, but he was too exhausted to care. “Just spare one person from the cruelty of existence,” he laughed then, an ugly thing, one that merged with a sob. “I couldn’t even manage that though, I don’t think I’ll even live to see my birthday this year.”

Desperation could do a lot of things to a person. With the way the last few months had been going, he was started to not recognize himself in the mirror, and not because he continues to

“I’m not bad person,” he mumbled, only half believing it. The poor animals he’d injected with his blood for studies, the way he’d tried to replace their organs with mechanical parts to keep them alive....maybe he wasn’t as innocent as he thought. “I’m...I’m not a bad person,” this time it was barely a whisper as he buried his face in his forearms on the desk.

Images flashed beneath his maroon eyelids. His mother’s mouth to eroded he could nearly see her front teeth through her top lip. The sound of his father crying and screaming for him to stay. The pain of feeling a saw hit bone. The feeling of spit hitting his face when rejected by other children. The way his crutch bruised his underarms as a teenager. “Why me?” He asked like a helpless child, muffled by his sleeves. “What did I do to deserve this?”

Vadim peeled himself off the desk, his eyes now watery and red rimmed. “Honestly you can do whatever you want to me,” he continued to cry, but held a smile, “It can’t get any worse, right?” He wiped at his nose with an oversized sweater sleeve and a sniffle. The pain was getting near unbearable, so he shuffled over to the box of medication. Vadim himself wasn’t even sure how many orange bottles of pills were crammed in there. Sometimes he didn’t even bother to read the labels, just took the first one he picked up.

With a dry swallow, he sent a cocktail of medications down. His stomach didn’t seem to enjoy receiving pills instead of food, and it growled loudly. “Proklyat'ye, I was supposed to pick up food.”

 

[thother]

"It's innate. Everything and everyone fears death, no matter how much knowledge they have on it," Jae-Hwa replied, listening closely to the words. Fear was an emotion that he truly struggled to feel, purely from everything that had been in his life, but he could understand it. Especially in regards to death. Fear was the thing that kept people alive, the emotion that truly pulled everything together. It was a scary, overwhelming emotion that clouded over anything else, draining constantly.

He watched, eyes never leaving Vadim during the trembling of voice and the voicing of fear and concerns. He didn't understand much, truth be told, when it came to people. Things like regret and worry were wiped from him at a young age, leaving him a blank slate. Emotions like those, things that brought tears to eyes and trembling to lips and voices, were ones he found fascinating. It was less like a project he wanted to wipe his hands of, get it over with and see the end product, the more he watched. He couldn't offer the things that others could, a shoulder of empathy and understanding or even an uplifting speech, those were things he'd never learned of.

No, he couldn't offer those, but he could offer other things. He moved, then, sitting up entirely as he kept his eyes trained. Not a bad person. He could agree with that, even if he knew there was doubt behind it from the other. He knew bad people, he'd met them and come from them, intermingled by blood and flesh, and Vadim lacked what they had. Even worrying about it was enough to prove that to Jae-Hwa, who knew well enough he'd never cared.

"You're right, you aren't a bad person. Humans do anything to survive, they do bad things, but bad things don't make bad people," he said, moving his hands to cup together. "People kill and eat each other in times of severe need, afraid of their own death. They fight and do awful things to survive this world, but the world is crueler than any living being that does bad things. It lets good people die," he thought to his sister's mother for a moment, "and it destroys any of their hopes. So you're not a bad person, this world is simply cruel enough to force you to do things that need to be done for your survival."

He could easily refute it with the things he'd done, the things he knew were far, far worse.

"How about this, since you're dying anyway," he began to speak, and while he seemed blase in his tone, there was something behind it. Something unreadable even for him, that left the pit in his stomach growing more and more. "I'll treat you as I do my living specimen, and in exchange, you stay beside me. You'll see a truly bad person then," he said it casually, knowing he was right. He was a bad person. He knew that, but he had no remorse in it. No regrets. Never have any regrets, child. He would never repent for the sin he brought into the world. "Although, you'll regret it far more if you do stay beside me. I'll admit that," he added on, moving to stand up.

"But before that, food? I know good takeout around here. There's an Indian place that sells wonderful paneer," Jae-Hwa was casual in the change, as if the conversation about something like that hadn't happened. He thought vaguely to his own father doing things like that, but ignored it. Unlike his father, he did have the ability to care still. He'd care until the flame finally died out, and he was left with the ash.

 

[joekid]

The words were soothing, salving the ache of guilt that was starting to gnaw away at him. All he was doing was surviving, that was his right as a living being. Placing a finger in his mouth he bit the skin around his nail raw, leaving it shiny and pink and sensitive. I did what I had to, that’s all. They’d forgive me, if they knew why I had to do it, they’d understand it wasn’t personal, that I didn’t want things to end that way. It's not my fault that God or the universe dealt me this shitty little life, all I’m doing is coping. Just coping. “Yes,” he spoke slowly, letting all of the other’s words sink into his mind, “you’re right.”

The comment about the world letting good people die brought the faces of his parent’s the forefront of his mind. They were all huddled in front of a fireplace, everyone smiling and bathed in warm light. It was a gentle memory, one that was fuzzy around the edges and had lost most of its context. He must’ve been very young when this particular moment happened.His imagination tainted the memory as he watched their faces melt and ooze and bubble to blackened debris. Even their skeletons melted like wax beneath a frame, liquified flesh and skin pooling underneath him. With a shake of his head he sent his curls bouncing, trying to expel the terrible images from his mind.

The proposal was enough to jolt him entirely awake despite the exhaustion his disease constantly held over him. “You...want my company that much?” Looking at it logically, Vadim really had no idea that the term ‘being treated as a living specimen’ meant...but it didn’t matter. Here was someone genuinely intelligent and attractive and understanding of him who was asking to keep Vadim close, there was no way he was going to say no. The only words that had stuck in his mind about how Jae-Hwa treated specimens was keep and spoil. All those things about pinning and cracking wings and restraining the little creatures in tiny prisons for him to gawk at were being temporarily blocked. “Y-yes!” he spoke up, shocked at the volume of his own voice. “I mean- I accept.”

Vadim’s dark brows furrowed in confusion. A real bad person? “People like you make the world less cruel. With the way you’ve been so kind to me, all without even knowing me…” he smiled again, this time forcing his hand to stay at bay, the little gap in his teeth on full display inside his far too crooked smile. The smile reached his eyes, gold irises finally shining at their brilliance as opposed to the way his usual sullenness kept them dull. “I just can’t think of any world in which you’re a bad person, Jae-Hwa.” A bit odd, perhaps, but there was simply no way someone with such generosity and understanding for the broken and ignored lifeforms of this world could be...bad.

The promise of food made his stomach roar again and he clutched at it in an attempt to shut it up. “That sounds great.” Vadim wasn’t very experienced in cuisine outside of Russian staples and the simple meals he could afford to make in bulk to save money. “Erm, I’ll take your recommendation on what to get,” he spoke sheepishly.

He knew the food would take a bit and tried to think of ways to fill the silence, to start a conversation that wasn;t so revolved around himself. He’d already said too much, felt selfish for dumping his woes onto this stranger, the least he could do was give the other an opportunity to talk for once. Vadim tried to remember what kinds of questions people asked to make conversation, they’d already exchanged names, discussed careers...what else did normal people talk about? “Do you have any family around here? Your parents must be proud to know you’ve already moved out and made a career for yourself, huh?” He twirled a few fingers into his curls, twisting and tugging on them as he spoke, “I’m an only child, which I’m sure came across painfully obvious.”

 

[thother]

He could see the gears turning, see the attempt to rationalize what had been done and the guilt that came with it. He didn't know what had to be done, he wasn't going to ask just yet, but he could understand that it was a survival instinct. People did anything to survive, he'd seen the brunt of what people do to survive. Of course, he assumed it wasn't as close to what those people did, throwing others under a bus hardly seemed like Vadim's personal past time after all, but he knew it had to be something guilt inducing from the way he talked. He could work with that, slowly train it out through positive reinforcement.

"The need to survive overtakes all emotions in people and animals alike, so don't think too much on it with guilt. I'm sure anything that has happened can be understood by who it effected," he said, nodding to himself. He didn't know that, truthfully, but he could imagine that many would forgive such a painful reasoning. Besides, he would hardly sit by and let someone tell him otherwise.

He watched the smile and listened to those words, words he'd never heard before. Memories of his father's voice reminding him that they were cut from the same cloth seemed to halt, if only for a moment. He knew, in the back of his mind where he cast away all those childish worries and regrets, that he was a bad person. He hurt people, he killed them, and in many cases, he never let their families have peace. It was worth it, what he got in return for it was far worth it, but it ate away every bit of his humanity. Unlike the humans he so desperately watched, he was a monster. A monster cloaked in human skin and smiles, a monster who devoured and decayed any human he came in contact with. This would be no different, his claws would dig in and destroy Vadim, and he would put that regret in a little box in the back of his mind. But for a moment, a real, true moment, he felt hope. Hope in the smile that saw nothing but a human trying to help someone.

"Haa, when you say things like that, it really does make me understand people who regret their bad actions," he rubbed the back of his neck with a soft laugh. "Even when you come to hate me, I'll remember that. Even if you manage to escape and leave your case, my little butterfly, I'll think of your burnt wings and the thing you just said. So, remember it well, too," he glanced up finally, and for a moment, he did look human. Surprisingly so, soft and warm and genuine. "And your smile will be the thing I will keep after your death. For only my eyes."

He was quick to attempt to move on, if not for his pride, than for the fact that he didn't want the other to dwell on what he said. On the idea of being trapped with someone like Jae-Hwa, knowing well that he would destroy that visage of himself in due time. He pulled his phone out, typing quickly before throwing it casually behind him with a stretch. "Food will take a while, but it'll be worth it. Anything you don't like, I'll take, since I'm not picky with Indian food," he commented, moving to put a leg over the other.

The question made him pause, though he smiled a bit at the only child comment. He could tell, if only because he had as many siblings as he did. "If it's any solace, my little sister will love you. She's not hard to talk to since she doesn't express her emotions, she's very blunt, so you'll be able to understand her well," he commented, smiling at the thought. He knew Michiru well, she would end up babying Vadim despite being younger than him. It would be a funny image, especially with her short stature. He let out a laugh at the comment, shaking his head. "Oh the opposite, my father wanted me to work in his... company more than I do now. I was meant to spearhead it, but Michiru is a better fit. She's far smarter than I am money wise," he admitted. "Besides, taking that position is asking for my brothers to strangle me or gouge my other eye out," he joked, but the casual mention of gouging an eye out as a penance for something like taking a position was concerning. Truth be told, gouging eyes out was probably the most tame way that his brothers fought. The thought of his eye made him involuntarily move to touch it, before shaking his head out. He had no want to remember that day, even if it was permanently carved into him.

 

[joekid]

“Hate...you?” Vadim couldn’t comprehend hating someone like this. Nowhere even close. He’d sooner end up loving someone like this than hating them. His narrow face scrunched itself in confusion, trying to decipher what was lighthearted joking and what were as yet unfulfilled promises. He settled on it likely being a joke or an attempt on Jae-Hwa’s part to be humble. “I don’t think I could ever hate you,” he laughed lightly, choking on it slightly. It sent him into a harsh coughing fit, the kind that made his lungs burn and sent little specks of blood onto the palm covering his mouth. He stared at the little stains on his hand, eyes distant. “You may need to rely on your memory of me sooner than you think.”

It somehow felt fitting that Jae-Hwa was an older brother, probably something about how nurturing he was. “I’d love to meet her sometime,” he spoke gently, surprised at himself for how open he was to meet another total stranger so soon. The idea that Jae-Hwa had a little sister brought up all sorts of false memories. A tiny version of the man in front of him braiding an even smaller girl’s hair, hoisting blankets atop stacks of pillows to make little forts, the way he’d be overprotective once she started to get attention from boys. In truth Vadim had no idea what their childhood was like, but the idealized version of siblinghood had already rooted itself in his mind. “If she’s anything like you I’m sure she’s lovely.”

Vadim placed one of the pill bottles on his desk, idly counting how many perfectly ovular pills were left inside. “I always wondered what it would be like to have siblings,” he tilted the halfway empty pill bottle this way and that under his finger. All the tiny white pills inside swayed side to side, hurdling into each other like a stampede. “I think if I had a brother he would’ve picked on me,” he laughed at his own expense, “I couldn’t catch a ball or run to save my life, so he probably wouldn’t have found me much fun to play with.” He let the bottle tip over and started to roll it around the desk. “If I had a sister maybe I would’ve had a bit more luck, but that’s all just speculation, girls can be even meaner than boys sometimes.”

He was genuinely surprised to hear of Jae-Hwa’s father’s disappointment. “What kind of company does he run?” If it was anything big enough to need a strong financial advisor, it was probably quite the business. “You turned out to be successful and, if I may be so bold, wonderful person, so I’m sure he’ll come around at some point. Sometimes...” Not now, I don’t want to think about that now. A lump formed in his throat, but he swallowed t down, leaving his voice slightly shaky. “Sometimes parents just have unconventional ways of showing their love.”

Vadim went to laugh at the exaggerated comment, thinking the note about the gouging of eyes to be hyperbole. Until he registered the word other. Gouge the other eye out. He hadn’t taken much note of it before, but the curtain of pink hair covering one eye suddenly made him feel sick to his stomach. The color drained from his face as that terrible itch of curiosity made him want to reach out and pull away the curtain, to reveal if the truth of it was as gory as he imagined. “You don’t mean…” he trailed off, feeling cold and nauseous as sympathy sank his heart below the floorboards.

The next thing he knew he was rising from the desk and making his way right over to his new neighbor. His footsteps made every floorboard creak and whine until he found himself so close to other he could reach out and touch him. It was killing him to know whether or not there was a void behind that shroud, an empty pit or a gory hole or perhaps even nothing at all. His slender fingers uncurled themselves from his fist, hovering just over the tiny separation between him and a dark, dark secret. “Can I...see?”

As if being splashed with cold water, he came to his senses in a sudden realization, pulling his wrist away from the other's face. "That was...I should never has asked that, I-I'm sorry," his bad habit of hitting himself with his palm reared its ugly head as it connected with harsh force. "I'm sorry, we can just forget about it, I don't know what came over me..."

 

[thother]

How he wished that were true, that the idealistic life right here would never fade. There would come a time, he knew, that it would. It would shatter rather than fade, in blood and scattered glass and a dead body. He wanted to hope it wouldn't end, that they would live on in blissful ignorance to the horrors that lie a room over. Unrealistic, though. Vadim would see the monster under the cloak of human skin and Jae-Hwa would keep him trapped in that cloak until the day he died. A small part of him hoped to not work until Vadim's end, letting them play out a dance of ignorance, but he reminded himself that he showed himself to all his specimen. Every animal and insect that he had worked on had seen him, scalpel in hand, commit sin. The only solace he found was the idea that it would rest his worry on being a bad person when he saw what humanity monsters were capable of. "I'll be sure to carve you into my memory before your passing," he replied, no hesitation nor a hint of concern in his voice. He didn't seem to mind forcing years of memory down into a few weeks or months.

He paused, thinking to his sister with a small laugh. "She's the opposite of me, but it makes her better. You always know where you stand with her. She'll definitely baby you, I might get jealous," he joked, shaking his head out. He was joking about the jealousy thing, knowing well that she wasn't the type to attempt something shady. Not to mention, if she did overstep, she listened closely when it came to his requests. He didn't ask for much, so what he did ask for was paid in full. It was how things were after he did what he did for her. He thought vaguely about how it was probably the only thing he never regretted doing. A small light in the darkness, if anything.

Listening to the comments, he nodded along. Truth be told, he could definitely understand where the other was coming from. His own brothers were rowdy and unruly, at least Uwe and Fedir were, and had a tendency to bully even himself, Hu, and Danay. "Well, I can't say I don't understand where you're coming from. Brothers are a tricky one, they're either wonderful and caring or you want to throw them off a balcony for messing with you. I'm bias on the sister thing, though," he admitted with a nod. "At the end of the day though, truthfully, you didn't miss much. The connection you make with siblings can easily be replicated by other people, even if it's much later," he spoke thoughtfully on it, coming to his conclusion casually. "I'd like to say I could offer my brothers as a sort of family, but besides Ciro, they're all not people you'd want to break bread with."

What kind of company? Well, that was a hard one to answer truthfully. "We trade overseas and have a few political branches in Japan and cities in Germany and Cambodia," he thought on it, answering carefully. Jae-Hwa wasn't prone to lying about his fathers company, and what he said was right, but it was still illegal. Drug and weapons trading, political stronghold through blackmail and threats, and much worse were just the beginning of it all, and he didn't want to drag Vadim into that. Even he avoided most of it, outside of his own job, for that reason. It was a dark, dark hole he found himself not looking into for his own sanity. "Either way, I'm not bothered by his lack of care. I'd prefer it over how overbearing he can be," he admitted with a nod, seeming to catch on to the emotional response.

This. This was something he found interesting. The intense want followed by guilt and concern for him, it was as beautiful as it was concerning. Despite his want to forget that day, he supposed they'd both bear something. He moved, taking Vadim's wrist and pulled it forward as he used his own hand to push the curtain of hair up.

Letting go of the wrist, he kept his hair up with one hand while he fiddled with his eye. After a moment, he pulled his hand away, gripping a prosthetic eye. He didn't seem bashful about staring, keeping his hair up as he watched the reaction. It was surprisingly scarred on the eyelids, but there was a pattern and clean-cut look to them that made it seem like a scalpel had done it. "My brother, Uwe, is a doctor," he said. An explanation. Why it was so clear and clean, why the scarring was so well done and there was still an eye hole for a prosthetic. Calculated and cold and old.

 

[joekid]

Vadim felt his face heat, shades of red showing brightly against his pale complexion, “I don’t know how I’d react to that much....attention,” he stated awkwardly, hand finding his curls to tug at them.

Jae-Hwa’s willingness to open up, to show him a part of himself he probably kept far, far away left him breathless. The hand on his wrist was impossibly warm and it made his pulse race right underneath it. Vadim couldn’t suppress the gasp that left him when he saw it. The wound was nearly surgical. If it wasn’t so horrific, the academic in him would want to congratulate whoever had pulled it off. But that was perhaps the worst part of it all.

“Your...brother did this?” He asked slowly, letting the gravity of such a tragedy sink in. To be hurt so badly by a family member, permanently marred by their actions, it was a suffering unlike any other. He understood that unique pain, the way it changes you. That was the kind of thing that could send someone spiraling, left with nothing but pieces of the person they were. When he had pieced himself back together, he had sliced himself over and over to form any semblance of self. Vadim couldn’t help but wonder how Jae-Hwa had put himself back together.

He could tell the scar was old, the way all of the markings had faded to a dull white indicated years of tissues reforming, trying desperately to undo the damage that had been done. Vadim let his fingers touch around the cavernous area where an eye had once laid. He let his rosy fingertips dance along the raised scars and nearly dip into the deepest part of the socket.

“You were young,” he hadn’t realized he’d said that aloud, nor did he know if it was directed toward himself or to Jae-Hwa. There was absolute heartbreak written all over his face, the way he spoke, the way he touched. The sympathy of understanding made his eyes shine. Just a child. Just a child with no way to defend himself. “Why did he do it?” His accent felt thick on his tongue.

Vadim plucked the prosthetic eye into his grasp. He turned the orb in his grasp, looking at it with a scrutinizing eye, a scientific eye. “I can make you a better one,” he spoke with a clinical tone, thoughts of all the ways to improve the item racing around his skill. He raced over to his desk to furiously scribble ideas down, the worn pencil nearly snapping under his enthusiastic work.

 

[thother]

"You should learn to get used to it, especially considering I'll be doing far more," Jae-Hwa replied, voice airy and playful at the comment. He was being honest, though, knowing that his attentiveness could easily become overbearing at the best of times.

He nodded, thinking back to that night. All that anger, all those fights. Uwe was always a childish man, despite being the second oldest of the group, and tended to have fits of rage. It was usually fine, but Jae-Hwa had a tendency to get on his nerves in the worst of ways. "I told him he was a pathetic man who's never going to become leader. Needless to say, it pissed him off," he joked casually. "I'm lucky I'm one of my father's favourites, or else," he paused, trailing off with a cynical laugh. "Well, hardly something to think about," he shrugged.

Despite how casual he was, he knew that to most it was a horrifying thing. A simple tantrum from someone causing an eye to be permanently gone, something so small being the catalyst to such a heinous act. "I was probably... hm, 12? I know Uwe was close to 32 at that time, since it was near his birthday. I was right, though. He was pathetic and now he's lost the leader position to Michiru," Jae-Hwa hummed out proudly, as if it was a funny thing. To him, it was. A revenge far better than anything he could've done. He had locked those feelings from that time away, the fear and anger that came from losing an eye. He had been so, so scared of dying and scared of how to handle not being able to see properly, but he had been enraged. He had been bested by Uwe, which was hardly what he should have been upset about, but it was. He'd been bested, and he grew angry and planned so much worse for the man. Despite that, he never went through with it, and now he got to see Uwe be his own undoing.

He watched with a playful smile on his face, it was incredibly endearing to see him go right into work mode. "I must admit, I'm quite fond of that look. You'll have to show me it more often," he called from the side, voice teasing but nothing negative. It was interesting seeing an engineer work up close, something far more clinical and professional than he'd ever seen. He had, truthfully, only taken an eye that'd been the default standard because he wanted something there in case his hair did move. Explaining the scars would be easy, but explaining a fully missing eye to anyone but his specimen would be harder. He hummed quietly to himself, he'd carve that look into his brain post haste.

 

[joekid]

“Well, you were right,” he affirmed the statement Jae-Hwa had made all those years ago. “Anyone grown who’s capable of hurting a child is automatically a pathetic person,” there was a genuine anger behind his words, but one his focus on the current task kept firmly at bay.


“You know...this may be presumptuous of me,” he smiled in a twisted sort of way, half an attempt to comfort and half an attempt to keep himself sane hearing such a horrific story. Rummaging underneath the desk he found a small screwdriver, already starting to put tiny pieces together. “But I don’t think I’m going to be very fond of that brother.”

“Sorry,” he laughed nervously, knowing his sudden transition from sympathy to furiously writing equations could be interpreted as off putting. “It’s hard for me to get this thing to stop once it starts,” he made a swirling motion near he temple to indicate the unstoppable turning of gears in his mind.

Vadim clicked a small gear into place, muttering to himself, “I’ll probably only be able to regain light perception, just the contrast of light and shadow with all the scar tissue there...” He scribbled something down again, graphite smearing onto the side of his hand.

For a moment, he hesitated, let his pencil fall onto the pad, let the tiny mechanisms rest for a moment. “You...” his voice was small, nervous to pry, “haven’t mentioned your mother at all.”

 

[thother]

Jae-Hwa let out a laugh, full belly with a nod at the comment. Uwe was the most pathetic of any person he'd met, which was saying something considering the line of work the family was in. "Quite frankly, none of us like him. Even my father's thought of shipping him off," he answered honestly. That would be the day, truthfully.

He smiled, noting the nervousness that came off in waves. "You.. truly are impressive," he muttered, obviously to himself. He'd been around many smart men, one's who easily outclassed others, but there was something different here. Those men used their smarts for greed and consumption, they tainted themselves and lowered their intelligence for money. Vadim, however, was trying so purely to do something good with the smarts he had. It was something he truly was going to cherish.

Pausing at the comment, he nodded. "You don't have to be nervous, it's a fair question. Besides Michiru and Ciro, none of us really have 'mothers' so to speak. Our father chose women from all over the world in an attempt to get a good heir. He'd pay them handsomely to surrogate a child and then hand him the baby, but Michiru and Ciro's mothers both chose to keep contact and help raise their kids. As for mine, she's probably a prostitute," he shrugged, leaning back.

He tilted his head then, watching the other for a moment. "Is it prying to assume you were close with your parents?" he asked, though he seemed to be careful in the topic. He had seen the small reactions about family and had to assume something was there, and he was hardly going to try and pry if it was too painful.

 

[joekid]

The whole ordeal on breeding with woman only to receive offspring felt like an awful sort of experiment, so clinical and cold that it was barely even human. And yet, it was all too human. The selfishness, the cruelty of it. “I’m afraid...I won’t be too fond of your father either, Jae-Hwa.”

He shrugged at the compliment, thankful that his back was to the other as he was blushing bright red. “A-ah well, anyone in my field could do this...it’s really nothing...” The smile on his face was sheepish and unable to be contained. Being recognized for an accomplishment, being recognized at all made him positively giddy.

Vadim felt his whole body tense up at the question, hands frozen in the midst of tightening a small panel. His shoulders in particular twisted up and locked into place. “Close...?” With a sad hum, he continued tinkering, locking two small gears into place with a click. “My mother was cursed with the same prognosis as me. I knew her all my life as confined to a sick bed.” He flexed his hand, gently closing it on itself, “Near the end I could fit my whole hand around her upper arm, which was quite the sight as my hands were that of an 8 year old’s.”

A frown settled onto his face, “There were sores under her legs from moving so little, I cried so much seeing them no matter how used it to I was.” He twisted another screw into place. “She would pet my hair and tell me how sorry she was. Sorry that we were poor, sorry that she was sick, that I was going to be sick.” The sigh he let out was beyond exhausted. Thinking of his mother brought about unimaginable dread. The dread that he would end up the same way. Wasting away, rotting from the inside out until he was a living husk, and then disappearing entirely. “By the very end I prayed that she would die, I didn’t want to see her suffer anymore.”

With a grunt of force he tried to push a particularly finicky piece. Hush, hush, it’ll all be over soon, his father’s voice in their native tongue rang in his head. “With my mother gone and the knowledge that I was going to suffer the same fate...” he continued to push, straining with effort, It’ll be okay, don’t worry, I’m saving you. “My father...” The piece snapped, ricocheting against a few other odd bits. The scar that run all the way up his knee pulsed with pain. We’ll leave this world together, while you’re young and healthy. Wouldn’t it be nice to die at your happiest? It’s because I love you, Vadim. I love you, you know? “Well he went absolutely mad, I’m afraid.”