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9:20 P.M
– Tokyo Streets–
Cicero pulled up outside Zen's house, the engine of his car purring softly as he brought it to a stop. Turning off the ignition, he glanced over at Zen, who was sitting beside him with a stubborn expression on his face.
"We're here," Cicero said.
Zen crossed his arms defiantly, refusing to meet Cicero's gaze. "I can see that," he muttered, his tone gruff.
Cicero chuckled softly at Zen's attitude, finding it endearing. "Alright, well, take care of yourself, okay?" he said, reaching over to give Zen's shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
Zen huffed, but didn't pull away from Cicero's touch. "I always do," he muttered, a hint of warmth creeping into his voice despite his stubborn demeanor.
The green head smiled. "Yeah, I know you do," he replied, his tone fond. "I'll have someone get your bike."
Zen shot him a sidelong glance, his expression softening slightly before he nodded. "Thanks for the ride, idiot," he let out.
Cicero nodded, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Anytime, Zeno," he said, before the redhead opened the car door and stepped out onto the pavement.
As he watched Zen disappear into his house, Cicero couldn't help but feel a swell of fondness for him. Despite his stubbornness and grumpiness, Zen had a way of warming his heart like no one else could.
Zen stepped out of the car and made his way towards the front door of his house. He unlocked the door and entered inside. As he approached, he noticed Taya sitting on the couch, her brow furrowed in concentration as she tapped away at her phone, her expression tense and anxious.
Curiosity piqued, Zen approached her quietly, not wanting to startle her. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asked softly, his voice laced with concern.
Taya looked up, her eyes widening in surprise at Zen's sudden appearance. "Oh, Zen," she said, "How was the party?"
"Are you okay?" the redhead looked down at her and tried to subtly see what was on her phone. "Is there some fucker that is bothering you or somthin'?"
"No, um" Taya scratched her head, wondering if she should tell her brother, "it's just mom. She wants me to come home."
"What?" Zen's voice bordered on exasperation, "it's late now."
Taya rubbed her arm nervously, "She-uh, she'll get really mad if I don't come though." she proceeded to get up from the couch to start packing her things.
Zen was quick to stop her, ""Taya, you're staying here tonight," he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. "I'll drop you home tomorrow, but I'm not letting you go back to her tonight."
Taya's eyes widened in surprise at her brother's sudden declaration. "But Zen, I can't just—"
"No buts," Zen interrupted, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. "You're not going back there."
Taya's shoulders sagged as she gave in, knowing there was no way around Zen when he was serious. "Okay, fine," she said.
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The following day, Zen handed Taya a helmet and she looked at him in pure horror.
"I'm not getting on that." she gestured to his black bike. "I still want to live."
"You're not going to fuckin' die, you drama queen. Jus' hop on and hold onto me." Zen rolled his eyes as he put on his own helmet and leather gloves.
Taya gulped and slowly wore the helmet, hesitantly getting on the back of the bike before she almost slipped, "Ah!"
Zen looked back at her and huffed, "Are you stupid?" he asked her as she got up from the floor.
"Wait. I'm scared," she sat on the back and held onto the sides.
The redhead started the engine, ignoring Taya's screams before he zoomed down the driveway, then he suddenly hit the brakes, causing the bike to screech to a halt. Taya yelped in surprise, her hands instinctively flying forward to grab onto Zen's waist for support.
"Hey, what the—" she began, but Zen cut her off.
"See, if you hold onto the bike like that, you're just gonna fall off," he explained, gesturing to her hands still clutching the sides of the motorcycle.
Taya blinked in confusion before realizing Zen's point. With a sheepish grin, she shifted her grip to hold onto Zen instead, wrapping her arms securely around his waist.
"Like this?" she asked, her voice slightly shaky as she adjusted to the new position.
"Yeah, exactly," Zen replied, his tone surprisingly gentle as he glanced back at her over his shoulder. "Now you won't go flying off every time I brake."
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As they pulled up outside their house, a sense of dread settled in the pit of his stomach. He could see his mother standing on the doorstep, her arms crossed and a scowl etched on her face.Taya tensed behind him, her anxiety palpable as they approached the house. Zen took a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever confrontation lay ahead.
"Stay here, Taya," Zen instructed firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. "I'll handle this."
Taya nodded silently, her eyes wide with fear as she watched her brother step off the bike and approach their mother.
"What the hell are you doing here?" their mother spat, her voice laced with venom as she glared at Zen.
The redhead squared his shoulders, refusing to back down in the face of her hostility. "I'm dropping Taya off," he replied, his tone firm and unwavering.
Their mother's eyes narrowed in anger, her fists clenched at her sides as she took a menacing step forward. "You think you can just waltz in here whenever you like?" she sneered.
Zen held his ground, despite his quickening heartbeat and nervousness, his gaze steady as he met her glare head-on. "Yes, I can. You're starting to treat Taya like shit as well." he said retorted.
Their mother scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping her lips as she regarded Zen with disdain. "You're nothing but a worthless being," she spat. "You think you can lecture me about parenting?"
Zen's jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides as he fought to keep his composure. He knew his mother's words were meant to hurt him, but he refused to let her get to him.
"I may not be perfect," Zen replied, his voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside him. "But I'll be damned if I let you ruin Taya's life the way you ruined mine."
"Taya, sweetie. Come here," she ignored Zen's words, looking over his shoulder and gesturing for the girl to come inside the house.
Taya hesitantly came over, glancing at Zen for a split second.
"Go inside, okay?" the mother told her and Taya nodded, waving Zen goodbye before entering the house.
Zen watched as his mother looked back at him before he spoke. "Where were you all this time?" he demanded, his voice cracking with emotion. "You never came to see me, not once. You didn't even care that I was missing."
His mother's expression hardened, her lips curling into a cruel sneer. "Why should I care about you?" she scoffed, her words like a knife to Zen's heart. "You're nothing but a burden, a disappointment. I wish I'd never given birth to you."
The weight of her words hit Zen like a physical blow, leaving him reeling with a mixture of anger and hurt. He had known his mother didn't care about him, but to hear her say it with such cruelty and disregard still stung.
As the redhead stood before his mother, her eyes narrowed disdainfully as they swept over his altered appearance. "Look at you," she scoffed, her lip curling in disgust at the sight of his piercings, brow slit, and leather jacket. "You think you're some kind of tough guy now, huh? A rebel without a cause."
Zen clenched his jaw, refusing to let her words penetrate the armor he had built around himself. "I'm not here to impress you," he retorted, his voice laced with defiance.
His mother's expression twisted into a cruel sneer, her nails digging into her palms as she took a menacing step forward. Without warning, she lashed out, her hand connecting with Zen's face with a resounding slap.
Pain exploded across his face, the force of the blow sending him stumbling backwards. He felt the warm blood as his cheek throbbed painfully, the sharp sting of her nails leaving behind a trail of red scratches.
For a moment, Zen stood frozen in shock, his heart pounding in his chest as he stared at his mother in disbelief. His eyes welled up with tears, his chest constricted with a profound sense of hurt and betrayal. His mother's words cut deeper than any physical blow, leaving him feeling raw and vulnerable. Despite his best efforts to remain composed, he couldn't hold back the overwhelming tide of emotions threatening to engulf him.
With a shaky breath, Zen turned away from his mother, unable to bear the weight of her disdain any longer. Each step felt like a heavy burden as he made his way out, the echoes of her cruel words ringing in his ears. Despite the pain gnawing at his heart, he knew he couldn't stay there a moment longer.
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Zen washed his face with cold water and pushed his hair back, out of his face. He dried his face with a plush towel and walked out into his room. He reached into the drawer, his fingers brushing against the small bottle tucked away inside. With practiced ease, he uncapped it, revealing a handful of small white pills nestled within. These were his lifeline, the tiny capsules that helped to keep his inner demons at bay.
Without another thought, Zen popped a pill into his mouth and swallowed it down with a sip of water. The bitter taste lingered on his tongue, a stark reminder of the battles he fought within himself each and every day. But he knew that without them, his anger threatened to consume him, to tear apart everything he held dear.
Zen closed the bottle and returned it to its rightful place in the drawer. He couldn't afford to let his emotions get the best of him, not now, not ever. And as he settled onto the bed, he felt a sense of calm wash over him, the pills beginning to take effect and soothe the storm raging within his soul.
Then his phone rang.
Zen ignored it for a while, hoping that whoever it was would give up and hang up. But the ringing persisted, a relentless reminder of the outside world intruding upon his solitude.
With a resigned sigh, the redhead finally reached for his phone. Immediately knowing why this person did not give up.
"Hello?" he answered, his voice clipped and guarded, bracing himself for whatever awaited on the other end of the line.
"Were you cheating on me?" Cicero asked playfully since Zen took a while to answer before he laughed.
"Very funny," he replied flatly, "What is it, Sager?"
"Ouch. Okay, I'll get to the point. Are you available to meet up at the park later? We should discuss the whole Aria thing with the group. I already told Kazuo about it."
There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before Zen replied, his voice strained. "Uh, yeah, sure, I can be there."
Cicero furrowed his brow, sensing the hesitation in Zen's response. "Is everything okay?" he asked, his tone laced with genuine concern.
"Yeah, yeah, everything's fine," Zen replied quickly, a little too quickly for Cicero's liking. "Just... busy, you know how it is."
Cicero wasn't convinced. There was something in Zen's voice, a tightness around the edges that spoke volumes despite his attempts to brush it off. "Are you sure?" Cicero pressed, his concern growing by the second.
Zen let out a sigh, the weariness in his voice unmistakable. "Yeah, I'm sure," he replied, his tone clipped. "I'll see you at the park."
With that, Zen ended the call before Cicero could say anything else, leaving Cicero feeling unsettled and uneasy. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong and he wanted to press further, to dig deeper into whatever was troubling Zen so deeply. But he could hear the strain in his friend's voice, the unspoken plea for space and understanding, so he decided to leave it for later.
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As the group stood in the same place they discussed last time, the conversation turned to the reason they had all gathered: the new findings.
"So, Aria's back," Kazuo stated, breaking the tension that had settled over the group. His tone was neutral, but there was an undercurrent of uncertainty in his voice.
"Apparently Veldra is planning a war," Omi added, his expression guarded as he glanced around the circle.
Rehan raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "War? Seriously?"
Omi hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering to Kazuo before he spoke. "I'm sure Veldra is planning to attack anyone who opposes him," he explained. "Aria said she had to escape because she feared for her life."
"That's not good," Micheal remarked, his brow furrowed with worry. "If what she's saying is true, then we could all be in danger."
"Exactly. But why was Aria's necklace in Mr. Hiroshi's residence?" Kazuo thought out loud.
"I can ask her," Cicero suggested.
"No, you must ask her. In fact, tell her to come here now," Kazuo insisted and Cicero blinked.
"Okay."
Zen remained silent throughout the discussion, his gaze fixed on the ground as he listened to his friends' words. As the conversation continued, he struggled to keep his composure, his mind racing with thoughts of his intense encounter with his mother earlier that day. He knew he should be focusing on Aria's news, on the potential threat posed by Prince Veldra, but his own turmoil threatened to consume him from within.
With each passing moment, Zen felt himself growing more and more distant from the conversation, his thoughts consumed by the pain and anger that simmered beneath the surface. And as the group debated their next course of action, Zen remained lost in his own thoughts, his heart heavy with the weight of his own unspoken fears.
He could also feel the weight of Cicero's gaze on him, even before he looked in his direction and the knot of emotion in his chest tightened. He didn't think even wanted to. He knew that if he met Cicero's gaze, if he allowed himself to let down his guard even for a moment, he would crumble under the weight of his own emotions.
As the conversation reached a lull, Cicero cleared his throat, breaking the tense silence that had settled over the group. "I'm going to grab a drink from the store nearby," he announced, rising to his feet. "Anyone want anything?"
"Can you please get me water?" Rehan handed him some cash. Cicero took it from him and nodded.
"Grab me a soda, thank you, Chouko," Micheal said as well.
"Okay. Kazuo, you want something?" he asked.
"I'm good."
"Omi?"
"Me too. I'm good."
"Come with me" Cicero suggested, casting a quick glance at Zen.
The redhead hesitated for a moment, his reluctance evident in the furrow of his brow and the slight downturn of his lips. Despite his reservations, he nodded, his resolve firming as he began to follow Cicero.
As they walked away from the group, Cicero glanced sideways at Zen, his expression filled with concern. "You okay?" he asked quietly, his tone gentle.
Zen hesitated for a moment, his emotions roiling beneath the surface. "Yeah, I'm fine," he replied, his voice strained with the effort of maintaining his composure.
The green head watched him closely, and when Zen turned his head the other way. He saw the reddening scratches on his face.
"What happened here?" Cicero was quick to say as he stopped walking next to the streetlight.
Zen's demeanor shifted, his shoulders slumping slightly as a wave of emotion washed over him. He swallowed hard, his throat tightening as he struggled to contain the distress brewing within him. He covered his cheek with his hand. "It's..." he began, his voice catching in his throat.
Cicero walked closer to him, his concern deepening at the change in Zen's tone. "What is it?" he asked softly, his eyes searching Zen's face for any sign of distress.
Zen hesitated for a moment, his emotions threatening to overwhelm him. "It's just..." he started, his voice choked with emotion. "Things aren't great at home."
"Who did this to you?" Cicero asked, his voice tight with restrained fury
The redhead's voice cracked, his composure crumbling like a dam giving way to a flood of emotion. "My mom," he confessed, his words barely above a whisper.
The green head reached out, gently removing Zen's hand from his face, so he could inspect the scratches. His brows furrowed at the sight of the angry red marks marring his friend's skin, the evidence of his mother's cruelty a stark reminder of the pain Zen had endured.
As Cicero's fingers traced the outlines of the scratches, Zen's composure collapsed, his facade of strength crumbling beneath the weight of his emotions. Tears welled in his eyes, spilling down his cheeks in a silent cascade as he allowed himself to release the pent-up anguish and sorrow that had been gnawing at his soul.
Cicero's heart clenched at the sight of Zen's tears, his own eyes misting over with empathy and compassion. Without a word, he pulled Zen into a tight embrace, holding him close as he allowed him to cry freely.
The green head's embrace tightened around Zen, pulling him closer, offering reassurance. His other hand moved tenderly, fingers threading through Zen's tousled hair with a soothing rhythm.
As Zen buried his face against Cicero's chest, his tears stained the fabric of his shirt.
"She... she said things," Zen choked out between sobs, his breath hitching in his chest. "Awful things. I just... I can't..."
"It's okay, Zeno," Cicero murmured softly, his voice a gentle lullaby in the midst of Zen's turmoil. "You're okay. I've got you."
He felt Zen's shuddering breaths against his chest. "You're stronger than you know," Cicero whispered, his words a whispered promise against Zen's ear. "You've faced worse than this, and you've always come out on top. This is just another challenge to overcome."
He felt Zen's body tense against him, the weight of his sorrow pressing down like a heavy weight. But Cicero refused to let him drown in despair. As Zen's sobs began to subside, Cicero felt a glimmer of hope stir within him.
Then, the redhead pulled away and wiped his eyes and nose with the back of his hand. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment and gratitude. "Sorry about your shirt," he muttered gruffly, glancing down at the damp fabric against Cicero's chest.
Cicero chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Don't worry about it," he replied, his tone light and reassuring. "It's just a shirt. Besides, you're cute when you cry."
Zen's cheeks flushed even deeper at Cicero's unexpected compliment, a mix of surprise and embarrassment crossing his features. He cleared his throat awkwardly, shifting his gaze away from Cicero's gentle smile. "Shut up," he muttered.
Cicero grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I mean it," he insisted, his tone playful. "But seriously, are you feeling better now?"
Zen nodded, the tension easing from his shoulders as he met Cicero's gaze. "Yeah," he admitted quietly, a trace of gratitude in his voice. "Thanks, Cicero. I appreciate it."
Cicero clapped him on the shoulder with a reassuring smile. "Anytime——wait, what did you just call me?!"
Zen's eyes widened as he realized his slip up and he began to walk away and then into the store. Cicero caught up with him in no time and proceeded to approach him in one of the aisles.
"What did I hear back there, huh?" Cicero smirked.
"You didn't hear anything," he muttered, his voice gruff as he pretended to focus on the items on the shelf in front of him.
"I think that's the first time you've ever called me by my name," he remarked, his tone light and teasing. "I'm honored, Zeno."
"Shut up," he muttered, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Don't get used to it."
"I will literally mark this day and time on the calendar," Cicero continued, "Like I will tell the press and media about it."
Zen rolled his eyes. "Stop making such a big deal," he said.
"This day should become a national holiday---"
"Sager, stop!"
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"Dang. Did you guys travel to a store in a different country or something?" Micheal exclaimed as they finally came back with the drinks.
"Sorry," Cicero smiled sheepishly and handed Rehan and Micheal their drinks.
"Where's mine?" Kazuo asked suddenly.
"........"
"You literally said---"
"How can you not think of Kazuo when getting these drinks?" Omi asked and crossed his arms.
"But—" Cicero began.
"Bruh, it's jus' water," Rehan cut in.
"Still, it's not nice." Omi frowned.
"Do you have fucking dementia?" Zen asked him and Omi immediately backed down. "This fucker clearly said he didn't want anything." he gestured to Kazuo.
"Guys, Kazuo was just joking," Micheal raised his hands in defense.
"Is he even capable of that?" Rehan added.
"I can joke," Kazuo frowned.
"Really? Okay, give us your best joke," Rehan countered. Meanwhile Zen was giving Omi a dirty look which made the glasses wearer to look away from Cicero's direction and face the complete opposite way.
"Okay," Kazuo thought for a moment and then said, "Why don't scientists trust atoms?"
Omi was quick to start thinking so he could get the answer right.
Micheal blinked and Zen raised a brow.
"I don't know," Rehan shrugged.
"Because they make up everything!" Kazuo grinned, clearly pleased with himself.
"......."
Micheal walked away from the group and Rehan began counting the clouds in the sky. Zen gave Kazuo a short nod, and then avoided eye contact.
Cicero was the only one who attempted to laugh, "Hahaha, that actually makes sense!!" he laughed painfully.
Rehan then began laughing for real at Cicero's fake laugh. "That's a knee slapper!" he wheezed with tears in his eyes.
"I feel offended, honestly," Kazuo sighed and looked down.
"It's okay. No one here has your elite humor," Omi said with all seriousness.
Micheal came back after a while, "Has it stopped?"
"What is it?" Rehan asked.
"The painful aftermath."
"Oh, uh, yeah. A long while ago," Rehan gestured to Kazuo who was making a work call a distance away.
Micheal sighed in relief and glanced at Cicero and Zen who were watching something on Cicero's phone together. He then looked at Omi who was reading a book.
"I'm hungryyy," Rehan began whining out of no where.
"Let's go eat then," Micheal suggested.
"Please, quickly, or I will eat everyone here," Rehan agreed and stood up, dusting his pants with his hands.
"Hey, Kazuo!" Micheal called out to him. The raven head regarded him with a short look, "Come join us when you're done with work." he said an Kazuo gave him a thumbs up.
Micheal then looked at Zen and Cicero and he approached them, trying to see what they were watching together and saw an intense wrestling match.
"Guys," he said and Cicero immediately looked up whilst Zen was too immersed, still looking down at the phone.
"Hm?"
"We're gonna go eat, you comin'?"
"Of course, it's on me," Cicero quickly said and shut his phone off, causing Zen to blink at the dark screen.
"I knew you were gonna say that," Micheal chuckled, "No, it's on me."
"No, no, no," Cicero got up and put his phone in his back pocket.
Zen followed after them and then Rehan and Omi joined as well.
Micheal turned and gestured for Zen to come closer. The redhead obliged and Micheal whispered to him: "I need you to steal Cicero's wallet, so he doesn't even try to pay."
Zen pursed his lips and gave Micheal a 'What the fuck?' look.
Micheal only nodded, hoping he would agree.
"Where is it, anyway?" Zen whispered back.
"I think it's in the inner pocket of his jacket."
"And how the fuck am I supposed to—"
"What are you two talking about?" Cicero glanced back.
"Hot girls." Micheal answered too quickly and Zen winced.
"Huh?!" Rehan wondered if he heard that right.
Cicero smirked and wiggled his brows, "Oh yeah?" he put an arm around Zen's shoulders, "Like who?"
"Umm..." Micheal thought for a while.
"Maybe her name starts with the letter that's after E?" Cicero suggested.
"....."
"What?" Micheal frowned.
"C'mon, you know what I mean," Cicero pressed further.
"If you're talking about who I THINK you're talking about, then I have lost all of my appetite, thanks." Rehan had a traumatized look on his face.
Cicero nodded with a mischievous grin. "Bingo," he said. "You got it."
"I hate you both so much," Rehan said.
Zen noticed that this was his opportunity to steal Cicero's wallet. But, how was he even going to do it? Maybe if he just pretended to hug him? No, that was stupid and Cicero would definitely feel it.
"Hey," he nudged the green head to get his attention.
"Yeah?"
"Can you give me your wallet?"
"......"
Cicero looked between Zen's amber eyes for a moment and as soon as the redhead tilted his head in an endearing way, Cicero immediately pulled it out without another word.
"Here," he gave it to him.
Zen took it and flashed him a smile.
Cicero blinked.
Was he dreaming right now?
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