Chapter Text
Nathaniel was used to solitude. Liked it even. It was hard not to when it was all he had ever known. From the dismissal of his father to the now stifling weight of being in the nest.
It was one of those steady presences in his life that he couldn't quite bring himself to ignore. He felt most alone when looking across at the rest of the ravens. They all had a pair. Another half of them.
Nathaniel watched their codependency with a mild disinterest.
He couldn't fathom how they liked having a weakness, having something that could be used to break them.
Nathaniel was 10 when he joined the nest; 10 when he promised to never let anyone in. Parting words of "Good luck Abram." from his mother were the closest thing he had had to affection in years.
Not that his mother was particularly affection. She was not. But in her own way she had made him feel like something.
Nathaniel never had anyone to hold hands with. Never had anyone to reassure him when things went wrong - never shared those little hugs and small gestures. Sometimes he ached for a tiny slither of something. Thoughts like that were dangerous in the nest. It was fruitless to want something he could never have.
The heavy silences that so often filled his room were a welcome distraction from Riko's cutting words on the court and Kevin's distracted glances. He was younger than them. By 2 years. It was a pity really that he wasn't older. It would've meant that Nathaniel would bear the mark of his tattoo by now. Yet he could wait. 2 years was an inconsequential length of time when he'd been waiting for so long already.
Kevin was somewhat of a brother to Nathaniel. They hadn't acknowledged it and probably never would. No real affection was shown in the nest, the pair system was made just so. Instead Nathaniel stuck to having conversations with Kevin with his eyes and sometimes ( when Riko wasn't in ear shot) in French.
He'd been taught from a young age to read emotions and make it that he was able to convey what he needed back.
Nathaniel had grown out of weakness long ago and barely flinched when Riko hurled insults his way.
Riko's hands left bruises on his shoulders more often than not and the scars from his racquet would be ever present on his back.
Nathaniel had perfected the art of his fathers smile long ago. It wasn't by choice. Instead more out of habit.
In a way it worked with his solitude complex. The ravens often feared Nathaniel. He was younger than them but steely eyes and cruel smiles were enough to scare anyone away.
"Cowards."
It was a common muttering under Nathaniel's breath every time someone gave him a wary glance that bordered on fear. He found it really rather amusing that they let him grate on their nerves; get under their skin.
Or maybe it was the harsh body checks Nathaniel had grown to love on the court. Maybe that was the cause of their wariness.
Nathaniel knew the boundaries between acceptable body checks and pure violence. He could always tell the difference. He'd used both.
The familiar settling of dust on the bed next to Nathaniel's was interrupted. A large case was perched neatly in the middle, books scattered around it. He scoffed at the worldly possessions. There was no use for them here.
Nothing really customised his side of the room with its blank walls and unforgiving black. He had no sentimental possessions. He probably never would.
Sometimes the unforgiving black of the nest was comforting, it was all Nathaniel had known for 4 years. But even he couldn't push the craving to watch the sunset and stars again away. He had no purpose to go outside. He wasn't a Raven.
His tutors were based in the nest and his public appearances would be next to none until he had that tattoo. Only 2 years until he would see the light again.
Sometimes the dark haunted him as a heavy, weighted presence trapping him. He hadn't seen the light for 4 years an ache so deep inside of him that couldn't be filled.
Nathaniel's almost tranquil peace was broken. The boys steps weren't particularly confident nor timid as he walked into the room. Lines of red streaked his face. Scratches. A shiny black number 4 was drawn on his left cheek in marker pen.
He didn't have his tattoo yet either.
The 4 was crookedly drawn on. The tell tale signs were that the boy had fought back. It didn't win him any points in Nathaniel's book but nor did it lose him any either. Nathaniel had no use for emotions for others apart from the selfish need he had for himself.
It wasn't self preservation ( hell far from it ) that Nathaniel displayed but without having a pair he could get away with being selfish. No harm was coming to anyone but himself. His mistakes were his own. And now that had changed. Now he had someone that was bound to make mistakes.
Now he was tethered down by the very thing that he had sworn off of.
A scathing look was sent the boys way before Nathaniel was storming down the unforgiving black of the corridors.
"I don't want him."
Nathaniel's words were harsh and cutting a dark look ghosting his face gently creeping into his features. Riko looked almost amused and he fought the urge to snarl. He didn't find this particularly amusing and didn't think Riko should either.
Tetsuji was an unmoving presence in the corner of the room choosing only now to stalk towards Nathaniel cane in hand. His words, spoken in a sharp Japanese, were as cruel as the cane coming down on Nathaniel's back.
He didn't cry out anymore. There was no need.
He'd become numb to the pain a matter of years ago and stopped giving into it. The pain only did him more harm than good and the faster he could block it out the better.
Another lash of Tetsuji's cane landed on his face; a warm trickle
of blood fell from his already swelling lip.
"You will learn your place Nathaniel."
Tetsuji turned to face the wall.
"Jean Moreau is your partner here at evermore and you will accommodate him." There was no room for argument.
Nathaniel turned sharply on his heel trying to quell the rising panic and nausea that found its way steadily up his throat. The boy, Jean, was a weakness. Nathaniel had learned to cut weakness from his life when he had first joined the ravens. Now it was like he was starting all over again.
Nathaniel shoved the room door open causing Jean to turn to him in a look of muted surprise. He muttered something in French under his breath.
Nathaniel knew French.
It was one of the perks he got of having so many free hours at his fathers house. It meant his mother had had the time to teach him as many languages as possible.
She was preparing him for life on the run. They didn't end up running. Instead Nathaniel was here tied to the Moriyamas as property. He never thought about being property much. He couldn't dwell on things he couldn't change.
Nathaniel turned to Jean, roughly shoving him against the wall watching his eyes light up in something akin to fear. He could've sneered. This boy wasn't raven material. But he was Moriyama property so there was nothing Nathaniel could do.
It was odd them both being property but he didn't dwell on it much instead whispering harsh, angry French to the boy in front of him.
"I don't want you here make no mistake but now we're tied down by this disgusting codependency shit and I'm not having you fuck up anything."
Jean scowled roughly pushing Nathaniel away but the boy was stronger than he anticipated. A wicked grin, his fathers grin, split across Nathaniel's lips before he turned away.
"Don't think I want to be here and anyway you're just a child not even eligible to play for the ravens yet. Tell me what's a little thing like you doing here."
Nathaniel could admit Jean had nerve. Enough to know that if showed to Riko it would be beaten out of him and also enough to show Nathaniel that he wasn't some spineless coward.
The 'like Kevin' floated around his head.
Kevin was his brother in everything but blood but it didn't change the fact that he would fold at every command Riko gave him no matter what. All in all he was a coward.
Nathaniel didn't sleep much the first night Jean was present. He put him on edge not used to having anyone but his own thoughts for company. Now the steady breathing of his partner was unnerving and kept him up.
He gave Jean a shove to wake the boy up watching as he blearily wiped the sleep out of eyes. Nathaniel was already dressed perched on the end of his bed in his all black ensemble bar the slight red colourings to it.
That was all he had known for 4 years now: red and black.
Jean was good on the court that much was obvious but his mouthing off towards Riko and anyone around him was some sort of issue. They'd both get beaten if it continued on in this way.
Jean got his first taste of Riko's anger after a particularly scathing comment muttered under his breath in French. Riko never was too happy about being left out on things.
His racquet had come down faster than Jean could react and his split lip was almost identical to Nathaniel's, a fact that probably amused Riko greatly.
Nathaniel took no joy watching Jean be beaten but he also took no joy in watching Jean mouth off to players older than him. When thinking about it Nathaniel didn't really take much joy in much. Exy was possibly the only thing that gave him joy and even that was short lived.
Blood trickled down Jean's face much like it had to Nathaniel's only days previously. He watched Jean scowl, spitting out a mouthful of blood before resuming his place standing.
Riko glared turning away racquet in hand. Nathaniel fell to his knees when a racquet embedded itself into his abdomen a surprised wheeze making its way from his throat. It was all he could to keep from collapsing in on himself. He carefully glanced up seeing Riko, hands still clasped round his racquet near him.
"You see number four your mistakes are his now. I do recommend you keep that mouth of yours shut."
A wicked smile was perched on Riko's lips as he spoke and it was all Nathaniel could to do hold back another pained wheeze.
Pain didn't get you anywhere.
Jean watched on with cold eyes a small fire lit inside them as Nathaniel struggled to his feet, icy blue eyes filled with a burning rage. Nathaniel had always been fiery not even Riko could change that.
Practice was over; Jean was tasked with collecting all of the exy balls and placing them back in the buckets where they belonged.
Nathaniel stood at the side arms folded lightly over his abdomen leaning against the plexiglass a carefully guarded expression on his face.
He didn't much care for meals nor the abrasive stares of the other ravens. When he was alone Nathaniel was free to do whatever. He could hole himself up in his room and skip meals whenever he wanted.
Now it was just another reminder that he was tethered down by Jean and couldn't do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. Of course if both in a raven pair agreed on skipping meals then it wasn't frowned upon. However, if a Raven ( in a pair of course ) was seen eating alone then a beating was sure to come about.
It was instilled in the ravens that partner work was essential and no partner should ever be without the other. Their synchronised movements came from a behaviour that was well learned.
Vibrations ran up the plexiglass where Nathaniel was standing. He looked up to find that Jean had lobbed a ball at him to catch his attention. He watched the boy with mild disinterest in his eyes.
He watched as dark locks fell in the boys eyes and how the number 4 on his cheek was drawn a lot neater today.
Nathaniel gave Jean a cool vaguely scathing look as if daring him to say something. He didn't. Instead he chose to lob another exy ball rather angrily at the plexiglass watching as it rebounded off falling to the floor.
Something almost shattered was in his eyes as more and more exy balls got chucked at the plexiglass. Nathaniel figured lunch wasn't that high of a priority on Jean's list. He didn't find it very interesting watching Jean have an internal breakdown anymore and turned to go.
He left Jean standing in the middle of the exy stadium a sea of balls scattered around him.
The walls were black and oppressive as always as Nathaniel walked down towards his room. He felt odd now having to share it with someone. He wasn't sure if he would ever get used to the noise of someone else's steady rising and falling breaths.
In the back of his mind Nathaniel knew that Tetsuji would beat him for walking without his pair. It brought about the question of why didn't he care?
Maybe he was so used to the solitude that he was willing to break the rules for it.
Now solitude was a rare thing with Jean consistently joined at his hip. It made him want to scratch at the crawl under his skin every time Jean appeared when Nathaniel just wanted to be alone.
He was fine on his own. Better than fine. He wanted to be on his own.
Nathaniel's solitude complex didn't really fit in with the rest of the ravens as they were all so codependent on their other halves that they had probably forgotten what it was like to be a normal person.
Nathaniel didn't want that for himself. Didn't want to feel himself fall into the instability of having to rely on someone else. He'd seen it happen with other ravens. Watched as they fell into the depths of slight insanity.
It reminded him of being 12 again and watching, horrified, when a raven ( Alexei Christophers ) had killed himself because his partner had died of an overdose. He didn't think the nightmares would ever leave of watching blood slowly seep its way into the expensive fabric of the meeting room.
He hadn't cried for Alexei instead his grief manifested its way as anger instead.
Nathaniel vaguely remembered watching his father hack someone to pieces with Kevin and Riko at his sides. Nathaniel was blank faced and cold while Kevin hadn't taken long to empty his breakfast onto his shoes. Riko was tainted with fear from the butcher. Nathaniel could've laughed. Funny that Riko was scared of the butcher when Nathaniel was the one that had had to live with him.
He hasn't realised that his breath was vaguely constricted until hands were at his shoulders giving him a gentle yet firm shake. Nathaniel stumbled out of their grip spluttering. His lungs wouldn't fill with enough air. Why wouldn't they fill with enough air?
"-thaniel goddamn you breathe, breathe Nathaniel."
His vision swam back in to find Jean staring at him an odd expression on his face. Nathaniel thought he might have been deprived of oxygen for too long when he thought he saw concern flash across Jean's features.
Nathaniel found a sneer winding its way onto his lips as he stared at his own hands. Something like a laugh bubbled under his skin; he desperately fought a losing battle with his muscles to keep his fathers grin off of his face.
He was only too aware that Jean's hands were still perched on his shoulders.
"Don't fucking touch me!" Nathaniel pushed at Jean's hands desperate to feel less trapped. Jean's face flashed with anger for a split second before his hands slowly dropped to his sides and he turned away.
Nathaniel watched the back of his head. A small part of him wanted to thank Jean for helping him but thank you hadn't been a part of his vocabulary for a long while. The words died in his throat as he opened his mouth and soon Nathaniel went back to disliking Jean just as much as he had when he had arrived.
Nathaniel knew that Jean spoke very little English ( the master had tasked him with teaching Jean ) and always spoke to him in a whispered French. He couldn't help but feel ever so slightly closer to his mother when speaking French as she was the one that taught him in the first place.
Evening practice wasn't much better with Nathaniel's chest starting to slowly bruise. He'd played with a lot worse and wasn't about to let a simple bruise put him off his game.
He was hot, sweaty and had sweat running down his face in rivulets by the time evening practice was over. Riko had pushed him ( and by extension Jean ) harder than he normally would. Nathaniel's chest was numb at this point in time, the aches from everything else becoming a hell of a lot more prominent.
Jean was tasked with cleaning the court again and this time Nathaniel stayed. Not to help but because he liked the peace away from the other ravens stares in the shower rooms. Blue eyes met a sort of steely grey. Nathaniel's eyes were blank; cold. Jean's had a slight bit more warmth something that was sure to fade the longer he stayed in the nest.
"Why are you here?"
Nathaniel barked out a short burst of laughter at that. "Here as in the nest or here as in standing with you?"
Jean gave a small shrug, answering in more French.
That was mainly what they conversed in nowadays: French.
"Both."
Nathaniel turned away. He could feel the stare of Jean's eyes on his back. He and Jean were both property, both sold off for possibly quite different reasons but it all fell down to the debt that Jean and his parents ( or well mostly his father in Nathaniel's case ) had owed the Moriyamas.
"Same reason as you." Nathaniel's voice was low; his French almost halted when he spoke. It wasn't exactly something he had talked about before with the other ravens ignoring him. It wasn't like he wanted to discuss anything like this with any of them anyway. They had a choice they had chosen to be here.
In some ways that filled Nathaniel with a bitter resentment. He loved exy sure but here in the nest his love often fell short. He played as if he had nothing to lose. And in some ways he didn't.
"You're property?"
Nathaniel let his resounding stare, as he turned back around, speak for itself. He found that he didn't particularly like discussing such matters.
He turned on his heel once again leaving Jean alone in the exy stadium.
Hot water streamed down his face washing away the days sweat and grime. The angry bruise on his chest was purpling now still sore to the touch but nothing Nathaniel hadn't dealt with before.
He let the water unclench his tight muscles as he sat on the floor of the showers letting water run into his eyes, hair matted to his forehead.
Privacy was something you had to give up in the nest with the open shower stalls and the constant shadow of your pair. Nathaniel had always liked to shower later than the other ravens to try and scrape as much privacy as possible but now adding Jean into the equation made it a hell of a lot harder.
Opening his eyes he saw Jean wide eyed leaning against the lockers half out of his Raven gear. Nathaniel's scars were on full display with no point at trying to cover them up, it was futile anyway. There were too many of them to cover. Some, if not most marks, he bore from his father, Nathan Wesninski, whereas other scars were all from Riko.
The tiny incisions on his thighs were from Riko when he was 12 almost 13 and hadn't called Riko king yet ( he still hadn't ). The boy had flew into such a rage that Nathaniel had been in agony for a large number of days. He didn't really remember those 2 weeks from the fact that he was mainly dosed up on pain medication - a rare thing to get in the nest - to keep him on his feet and playing.
Nathaniel refused to look at Jean instead turning away from his pair; turning the shower off and grabbing a towel, black of course. Nathaniel was 11 when he understood the symbolic of the black the ravens wore. Not only were they intimidating but it helped to hide any blood, any bruises, any scars.
Nathaniel had been wearing black for 4 years now. It had been 4 years since he had been outside; seen the sun. 4 years since his 16 hour day schedule started.
Jean reached out an arm to stop Nathaniel on his way out but he ignored it and ignored the small huff that came with it. He didn't want attachment. He didn't need attachment.
Nathaniel was in agony. Tiny cuts littered his body breaking every time he moved. It had been days since Jean had seen his scars and still they were yet to talk. Meals were silent and more often than not Nathaniel found himself alone when Jean had to clean the court.
His breath heaved as black spots began to dance in his vision. He briefly wondered if Riko had gone too far this time.
Ichirou Moriyama had turned up at the nest and all but blatantly ignored Riko instead turning his eyes upon the young number 3 Nathaniel instead. Of course Riko ever the jealous type had ripped into him as soon as they were out of sight.
Two of his lackeys had held Nathaniel down as Riko, cruel smile and all, carved at him. He lacked the precision of Nathaniel's father, making it so the cuts were harsh ugly affairs.
Nathaniel laid there his blood seeping into the black carpet below occasional whimpers escaping from his lips no matter how hard he gritted his teeth. He was on the verge of breaking. Salty tears pooled in the corners of his eyes while internally he cursed himself for being so weak. What would his father think of him now?
His tears had started seeping from his eyes when Jean almost tore the door off it hinges as he entered the room. His eyes were dark and wild a bruise blossoming on his jaw, another split lip added to the myriad of purple on his face. It was clear Riko had been at him too.
Hands ever so gentle enveloped Nathaniel another cursed whimper gave away his pain.
"Your face is fucked."
His lips cracked at that sending trickles of blood down his chin. Jean almost smiled.
"You can't say anything mon pas si beau garçon."
If he wasn't so out of it Nathaniel would have retorted. Instead he let Jean's gentle hands guide him to the bathroom.
Nathaniel woke to someone's hands shaking at his shoulders. His fist struck out while muttered curses rang in his ears. Blearily, he opened his eyes to find Jean hovering over him nose purpling.
"You were in my way." His drawled French was slightly slurred while his head buzzed.
Jean raised an eyebrow before going back to try and haul Nathaniel off the bed.
"Fuck be gentle you piece of shit unless you want another bruise added to that collection on your face."
Jean scowled arms retreating back to his sides as he made to walk out the door.
"Don't forget who stitched you up last night Nathaniel."
With that the older boy turned and left hands closed into fists.
Nathaniel was definitely high on pain meds.
The morning dawned not exactly bright but definitely early. Nathaniel was stiff and rigid on his bed ( funnily enough he had no recollection of getting there.) The running water from the bathroom alerted Nathaniel to Jean's presence in the room.
He threw a hand over his eyes wincing as the stitches in his torso pulled. Riko really had gone at it this time. Nathaniel knew he really shouldn't close his eyes but sleep seemed enticing. Despite his best efforts - that weren't really that good - his eyes slipped closed.
Nathaniel woke to an almost gentle shake of his shoulders. Jean was standing above him an unreadable expression on his face.
"Get up before Riko decides to have fun again."
That jolted him awake and despite the pull on his stitches Nathaniel found himself frantically dressing in his all black attire.
He'd forgot about Jean's bruises on his face. They weren't exactly conspicuous. They were different shades ranging from purple to a yellowish colour. Nathaniel didn't want to look in a mirror. Didn't want to see the mess of his face that was sure to mirror Jean's. He felt sick looking at his reflection, courtesy of his father, he didn't want any more cause for that nausea.
Breakfast was a quiet affair again with Nathaniel and Jean still at odds with each other. Nathaniel had only known his partner for a matter of days no need for them to make such fast friends. He didn't even know if Jean would survive the nest. It wasn't like he had a choice. They were both property. It wasn't like they could just up and leave no matter how much they wished.
Other ravens stared at the myriad of bruises staining their faces. It wasn't exactly difficult to figure out where they had come from. They'd all been on the receiving end of Riko's wrath at some point or another. It just so happened that Nathaniel ( and now by extension Jean ) got the worst of it.
It had always been Nathaniel at a table on his own while eating breakfast. Kevin and Riko occasionally sat with him but more often than not they were seated with the other ravens. Kevin was also constantly mooning over Thea Muldani, who gave a little chuckle in his direction every time she caught him staring which was quite a few times. Nathaniel did find it funny though how Kevin was flustered so easily by her. The bright red flush on his pale skin was hard to miss.
Now it was Nathaniel and Jean who were on a table on their own. Not many of the ravens had bothered approaching but they weren't exactly the most approchable people ever. Not Nathaniel with his fathers smile and Jean's ever present scowl. It was almost funny the lack of social communication they had.
Nathaniel stared at Jean for a short second watching his hair fall into his eyes. He always wore a black bandana to keep it from falling into his eyes while practicing. His hair was almost like art. Nathaniel would envy that if he cared. Which he didn't. His own mop of bright auburn hair was a shock in the nest, a far cry from the more dulled down tones of everyone else. His eyes were a shock too. A bright piercing blue. Jean had grey eyes which Nathaniel secretly found mesmerising. He didn't know why. He just did.
Nathaniel was knocked to the ground again and again watching out of the corner of his eye as Jean scowled and his frown deepened every time his abused body was sent yet again crashing to the ground or into the plexiglass. He could feel that some of his stitches had pulled already. His lower shirt dipping closer to his hips was matted with the dark red liquid of his blood. If Riko wanted him to play then he would. Injuries be damned.
He took another hit, this time to the helmet sending him sprawling across the court and leaving him slightly dazed. Nathaniel's vision was vaguely blurred as he looked up in time to see Jean aggressively checking the player and sending him sprawling to the ground as well. The master turned a blind eye. The check was legal.
The player however, number 27, was angry shouting curses at Jean while the French boy stood there leaning ever so leisurely on his racquet. Nathaniel had the very hysterical urge to laugh.
Rough hands dug into his armour as they hauled him to his feet. Riko was behind him and by the pattern of his breathing extremely angry.
"Get up three." Riko's hiss was harsh; cold.
Nathaniel wobbled ever so slightly on his feet leaning heavily against his racquet for support. He could feel Jean's eyes on him. He refused to look at the boy, refused to let his weaknesses be shown.
Number 27 was still muttering curses until Riko saw fit to shut him up with a glare. The boy shut up at once. No one wanted to be on the receiving end of Riko's temper.
Nathaniel pushed himself to his limits in the second scrimmage of the day. He underestimated how nauseous he felt after the racquet to the head. It had been plaguing at him the entire scrimmage while sweat beaded at his brow. Jean was giving him more anxious glances now. Nathaniel knew he was only just holding on to the meagre breakfast he'd had earlier that morning.
"Three get with it!"
Riko's scream resounded in his head, more sweat beaded on his brow.
His helmet was halfway off when he decided to run. Nathaniel had just about made it to the bin before he heaved. The burn in the back of his throat was enough to make his eyes water. He pushed those feelings back.
He could feel the teams eyes on him, cheeks lighting up in embarrassment. His helmet was discarded in the middle of the court his racquet not too far behind it. Jean was already making his way over to Nathaniel visor on his helmet up and a small amount of concern in his eyes. He realised he was trembling.
Riko was faster than Jean. He had Nathaniel's chin gripped sharply with one hand making it so that they were staring at each other. Riko had that wicked grin on his face that Nathaniel had grown to hate. Of course Nathan Wesninski's grin was worse but both held the promise of violence. He was still trembling.
"Four deal with three and make sure he's able to play for evening practice."
Jean didn't speak much English but the message was clear from the way Riko was gesturing between him and Nathaniel.
Nathaniel felt jean's hands hook underneath his arms hauling him to his feet. He glared, he could walk on his own. The ravens were still watching them and Nathaniel felt something akin to disgust light up inside him. He felt something he hadn't felt in a long while. He felt weak. He felt exposed.
Panic was crawling up his throat. Nathaniel shoved Jean's hands away from him not even bothering to look at the boy as he sprinted the length of the court and further.
He was already drowning himself in shower water by the time Jean had walked into the locker room. His gear was scattered and drops of blood often followed in its wake. Hints of red came and faded as water pummelled at his skin. Hair was matted to his forehead with water this time instead of the sweat from earlier. Nathaniel's head hurt even with the cooling pressure of the shower tiles behind him. However, his earlier nausea had faded. His bruised pride had not.
Jean was more cautious approaching him this time. The older boy was shirtless armour and shirt discarded. The bandana holding his hair back was somewhere in the scattered piles of clothing around the room. They acted as if this place was their own, as if any of the other teammates couldn't walk in at any time.
Well strictly speaking with the raven schedule practice wouldn't finish for another couple of hours so Nathaniel had all the time in the world to drown himself in the showers. Jean wouldn't let him. Sometimes he wondered why Jean helped him. Surely he brought nothing to the boy but pain. This was why he didn't get attached.
"What are you doing here?"
His words were harsh as he spat them at Jean. The boy to his credit didn't even flinch. He was more concerned with easing himself, still half dressed, onto the ground next to Nathaniel under the hot spray.
Nathaniel glared at him. He'd always been alone. He still wanted to be alone.
"You heard Riko."
Nathaniel had. He didn't give a fuck. His next words were broken an occasional crack in his voice finding its way into them.
"Get out. Get out. GET THE FUCK OUT! I don't-" his chest heaved ,"I don't need you, I don't want you. I was alone. I was always alone and now- now I don't get that fucking luxury. Not with you constantly breathing down my neck. Tell me, why do you care? You have no reason to not when i'm nothing but a liability."
Hot tears dribbled down his cheeks as he scrambled away from Jean's hands.
His fist found its way into the older boys jaw. Jean didn't hit Nathaniel back instead raising his arms gently moving away from him. His grey eyes watched over the boy as he stood up peeling of his soaked uniform and grabbing a towel. He turned away from Nathaniel instead choosing to ignore his broken screams to get out. He went about gathering the discarded clothes on the floor and laid out a towel for Nathaniel. He was going to have a bruise on his jaw later.
Nathaniel was shivering. The shower water had long since gone cold as he lay huddled up under the spray. His cuts had stopped bleeding a while ago and now he just felt numb.
The locker door swung open. Jean was dressed in black joggers complete with red stitching but his shirt was suspiciously white. It made Nathaniel narrow his eyes. He was now sat on the benches a black towel draped round his shoulders as Jean made to sit next to him. His jaw had a slowly spreading bruise.
"I hate you."
Nathaniel's words were apathetic as his eyes found Jean's. The boy nodded. His white shirt had some stupid French writing on it talking about summer; Nathaniel wondered how it hadn't been burned as soon as it had arrived with Jean.
"You shouldn't be wearing that unless you're too stupid to know that you're going to be beat to high hell for it." Once again Jean just nodded and Nathaniel felt anger bubbling under his skin.
"Answer me goddamnit." Jean looked at Nathaniel with a carefully crafted gaze.
"What do you want me to say?"
Nathaniel fell silent at that. He didn't know.
Jean carefully twisted Nathaniel's shoulders to face him and began dressing the boy in black clothes with red stitching. He patched up the severed stitches carefully wrapping bandages around Nathaniel's torso. The younger boy sagged against him tired and shaking. His hair was smoothed back as Jean gripped his arms pulling him to his feet. All Nathaniel wanted to do was sleep.
Their room was still that everlasting black. It had been for years. It still wil be for many years to come. Once Nathaniel had found solace in the black walls away from his fathers reach. Now he was deep in the clutches of Riko's grasp. He didn't find so much solace in the black now.
Evening practice was a force to be reckoned with. Riko was letting all his anger out on the backliners unfortunate enough to be pitted against his team in the scrimmages. Nathaniel and Jean were always on the team against him ( and by extension against Kevin. ) Kevin was always with Riko. Much like Nathaniel always had to be with Jean.
Jean had grown into his position as a backliner more in the past weeks. He'd been graceful before. Graceful yet lacking precision. Now he was almost deadly with his aim honed to a large extent. He wasn't perfect but in time he would be. Nathaniel could see why he had earned a spot on Riko's perfect court. Him being property aside. As much as Nathaniel had despised the ravens harsh training methods he couldn't say that they didn't work. Him, Jean, Riko and Kevin were living proof that they did work.
It was vaguely a science experiment. Nathaniel had started his training at 10. He guessed it was always bound to be written in his story that he would be good at Exy. Maybe good was the wrong word. He would be perfect at exy. Riko be damned.
Riko was furious. His anger bubbling just under his surface as he stormed down the halls. A glint of silver could been through his hand and one had no doubts as to where he was going. Ichirou had once against dismissed his little brother favouring instead to talk to tetsuji. It was as if Riko hadn't even existed. He'd always been a boy with a short temper.
A harsh slap and the cold press of metal against his throat was what woke Nathaniel. He really wasn't surprised anymore. Jean however, was different. The boy had startled a mix between a harsh sigh and a muted yell had escaped his lips. Amongst the darkness Nathaniel could see the harsh glint something akin to fear in his partners eyes, could smell the fear practically radiating off of him. Nathaniel wished for once that Jean wasn't so soft. The boy needed to toughen up if he was to survive in the nest at all.
Nathaniel laughed. It was a cold bitter one once again inherited from his father.
"Fuck off Riko."
A slash to the ribs.
Another joyless laugh.
Slash to the face.
Nathaniel's eyes bore into Riko's, they were nothing like the cold, calculating ones of his father. Nathaniel wasn't scared.
He supposed he needed more stitches now. Chapped lips spread wide in his fathers grin before crumbling. Nathaniel couldn't stop the salty tears from tracking their way down his face.
"Happy fucking birthday to me."
Nathaniel was 15.