Chapter Text
10 years ago
No matter how hard he screamed, the house was always so quiet.
The sun had begun to settle under the sea, and yet Caspian was still on the curb outside his school. Hands still sticky with glue from the art project he did earlier, he remembered hating it, the way his fingers got tangled in string, the way the other boys looked at him and exchanged hushed giggles, the way the water felt in his hair when the freckly girl poured it atop his head.
Then he watched, watched as the redheaded as autumn leaves boy hugged his mom and smiled as she took his project, watched the twins laughed with their dad and shrieked when she was carried up in the air, watched his teacher make sure every child was picked up by loving parents until the parking lot was deserted and she picked up her bag and left.
She didn’t notice the boy curled up on the sidewalk, head tucked against the concrete of the wall and hair still dripping water.
He waited until the light sank downwards and he was cloaked in darkness until he pulled himself off the ground and dusted off his pants, beginning to walk home.
Kaito came home with a smile, he always did, everyday, made sure it stretched at his dimples and his eyes crinkled, made sure he shone so bright they had no choice but to look at him.
His parents were sitting at the dining table, a rare occurrence, he grinned harder, excitement bubbling up in his chest. He placed his backpack on his table, neatly arranging his school books and sliding his test paper out of a folder, this would make them proud, he thought.
Kaito headed to his sisters room, grabbing the milk bottle from the top shelf as he tiptoed, gently pressing the opening to her small, rosy mouth, rocking her until her cries smoothed over into coos and giggles, letting Iris tug at his hair as he headed into the kitchen to prepare dinner.
As the food boiled on the stove, he passed a mirror, stopping to stare at himself, at his ink black hair and hollow cheekbones, he smiled at the mirror, smiled harder again, bigger, better, prettier, pushing and pulling his cheeks this way and that until he looked as if he was glowing, his face ached, but he just widened his eyes, suddenly it looked wrong, like a doll, an uncanny feeling sending shudders though his body, eerie perfectness lined his lips, but he didn’t have time to correct it, it would have to do, his parents wouldn’t notice, they never did anyways.
He presented his test paper to his parents at dinner, Iris fed and asleep, the pasta steaming with tomatoes and chopped onions, cut finely by a knife he had cut himself twice trying to figure out how to use. They barely looked up, nodding and eyes glowing with the screens lighting up their faces, pale white light shielding their attention from the sunshine that Kaito wanted to be. Disappointment curled in his gut, he looked away, darted to his room so they wouldn’t see him cry, salt staining the uniform he ironed last night. He pressed his hands to his eyes until splashes of color danced across his eyelids and his head throbbed with spikes of nausea.
Then he got up and picked up his flawless test, it tore easily, the sound steeling something in him as he ripped it over and over again, until shreds of paper drifted down and around him, sticking to his damp cheeks and weaving in his hair. Kaito didn’t bother to brush them out as he grabbed his textbook, he would be better.
He would be the best, so they would want him.
Caspian stumbled into the house late at night, the clock ticked 9 pm and his dad sat at the dinner table, hands tapping away at the keyboard of his laptop, violet rings under his eyes.
“Dad! I’m home!” He called out, the sound ringing out loud in the room even though his voice was always quiet. Taking his shoes off, he went to his room without waiting for a reply, there was never one anyway.
But today, he had made something, made something special, maybe there would be a reply today, he idly brushed the thin paper of the card, fingers brushing over words and drawings and coming away stained with glitter. He breathed in then out, pacing around the small surface of his room, stumbling over clothes, bags, food wrappers, things on his floor he hadn’t bothered to clean.
His father had stopped cleaning long ago, and Caspian’s small hands fumbled over the buttons of the washing machine. Pushing over the splintered wood door, he approached his dad, presenting the crudely made card, ‘happy fathers day!’, scribbled in glitter pen and two stick figures holding hands just beneath.
His father glanced up then back down, darting those grey grey eyes towards his mothers bedroom door before going back to his laptop.
Not a single word uttered out of his pale, cracked lips,
Caspian could barely remember his voice now, his father barely spoke, ate, slept, always just a statue in the kitchen, still quiet and unmoving, only getting up to gently knock on his mothers door and close his eyes when there was no reply.
But usually his dad would nod, maybe say a word, even, not today, and it wasn’t fair, he had spent so long on the card, stained his uniform shades of blue and pink that he would have to figure out how to remove, just to make him happy, and Caspian barely got a reaction.
Nothing.
He shouldn't be mad, but he was so so mad. He opened his mouth to say something, maybe ask, beg, plead, for a shred of attention, but instead a scream came out.
He screamed, earsplitting and furious, making himself so loud the sound of his rage filled up every corner of the silent house. Running and running, he grabbed a glass, a pretty one, dust coating the rim, and he threw it, it hit the wall with a shatter. He kicked the wall, the floor, the table, anything to make noise, to be seen, to be heard. Glass stuck to his bare feet and sliced until he saw red, finally his dad looked at him, annoyance hidden under his pupils.
“Caspian! What are you doing,” He said flatly, his voice scratchy and ragged, staring right at the little bleeding, screaming, throwing, breaking, kicking, loud loud loud boy in front of him.
But although Caspian’s throat ached and his feet hurt and his father was angry, he just stood there, chest heaving from exertion, and he smiled.
He would be loud, so they would notice him.