Word Count: 1674

Yuuri knew very little about his mother. He knew that she and his father met in France while his father was in business school. Yuuri always assumed that his mother was there for school as well, but it was never actually disclosed to him.

He was only a baby when she passed away, but how, he didn’t know. He’d heard too many rumors to believe anything; some said she died from illness, others said she was killed in an accident, some said she was murdered.

He knew better than to try asking about her. His father would get visibly upset, and eventually ordered Yuuri to never speak of her again. That the past was in the past. Even the people who might have known more about her, such as those who worked at his family’s estate, kept their silence on the subject, as though it was taboo.

His step-mother acted as though she never existed in the first place, but she also insisted that she was only Yuuri’s step-mother, even if he couldn’t remember his mother. As he grew older, Yuuri realized a lot of this stemmed from jealousy and bitterness. Something about his mother put everyone on edge, and he was sure his step-mother felt as though she was living in the shadow of a ghost, and had to overcompensate for it.

She also didn’t like that he looked different; he was still distinctly Japanese in many aspects, such as his hair and eyes, but he had lighter skin and his facial structure wasn’t completely like his father’s; higher, rounded cheekbones, a more ovaled face, and a straighter, smaller nose. Whenever someone made the mistake of suggesting, even casually so, that he was related to his step-mother, she would always clearly state how Yuuri was from her husband’s first wife.

Once, when his father and step-mother were discussing what they wanted to do with him, he found out that his mother’s family was from Norway. Or maybe Finland. His father apparently wasn’t sure, or maybe didn’t want to say. He remembered sitting on the stairs on the other side of the screen, listening to them argue about his future and what his step-mother was supposed to do with Yuuri while his father was off on his business trips, and how it would be so much easier if he was sent to live with his mother’s family.

He couldn’t have been more than six, and he’d clung tightly to the stuffed lamb he had from when he was a baby, listening to how his father explained, in so many words, that even if he wanted to, he didn’t know how to get in touch with them.

He also knew that she was blonde, but he wasn’t sure about her eye color. He knew that for certain because when he was maybe seven or so he found a box with pictures and other various objects when he’d suck into a crawlspace in their house. A picture of a woman with his father and a baby, a book with dried flowers, some jewelry, a few nicknacks, postcards that looked sunny and bright but couldn’t remember where they were from now.

He paid dearly for his curiosity, and the box was confiscated and he never saw it again.

Sometimes Yuuri wondered if he resented his mother more than he was curious about her. Or if maybe his curiosity had turned into resentment the older he got. Or maybe his family was right in that he was just feeling sorry for himself; that he was a miserable human being, and was just being lazy and wasting his life on pointless things when he could be making his family proud.

All he knew was that for all of his life he’d been on his own. His father was always away on business trips, he avoided his step-mother and younger half-brother at all costs.

And if he or anyone else thought his step-mother was bad, her mother was even worse.

Discipline was very important for bad little boys, he could remember her saying to his step-mother through his tears of pain after he’d arrived home late one night when he was eight or nine. He’d fallen asleep in one of the public gardens, having gone there to get away from his family, to seek some solitude away from them, to escape even if only for a few hours.

If a lesson wasn’t taught, the old woman told her daughter, Yuuri would think he could get away with disobeying the rules whenever he wanted.

It had worked, at least how they wanted it to work for the most part. He was definitely more aware of what could happen if he broke the rules, or if he was late, or if he received bad marks on his tests, or if he talked back, or if he was too curious about things, or if he spoke at all.

He was aware to the point that his anxiety grew to uncontrollable levels. He started having more and more frequent panic attacks, he jumped at small noises, flinched away when people moved too quickly around him.

Yuuri was disciplined for that as well. For being overdramatic and causing a scene instead of just doing as he was told.

Wounds would heal over time, but scars were left, physically and emotionally.

Yuuri shied away from people, even after he finally gained some reprieve when he was sent to school in Switzerland, and then France, his step-mother finally convincing his father that it would be best for him. Best for his education.

Sometimes he wondered if his father even cared about him, since he was gone all the time. Even though his father knew what his wife’s mother did to him, he never said anything against it.

Even though he was glad to be away from his family, he always felt like he was the odd one out, especially since he got overwhelmed easily. No matter how hard he tried to fit in, he ended up breaking down when surrounded by too many people, or when things got too hectic. Or when there was too much noise, or when he was put on the spot, or any number of things.

After having a panic attack and completely shutting down during a party hosted by one of his classmates in France, he decided it would probably be best to avoid things of that nature all together.

It was his father’s sister that suggested Yuuri look for a college in America, an idea that both Yuuri and his step-mother were completely for, because it meant Yuuri wouldn’t have to go home on breaks if he just stayed in America. He had a cousin who lived in Destiny City, even though he’d never met her before. Surely that was a good enough reason to pick that city. He only had four years until he had to figure out what else he wanted to do with the rest of his life. Only four years until his student Visa ran out.

And so Yuuri kept to himself, happy once again to just be away from his family for as long as he could. He studied, he tried to make friends with his classmates, even though they thought he was disinterested in them and what they did since he always turned down their invitations to go out and have what they considered a good time. Most of his classmates gave up after a while, not bothering to make plans that included him since they knew he would turn them down, anyway.

Even though he knew he did it to himself, it didn’t make it any less lonely. Even though he purposefully tried to avoid people didn’t mean he didn’t wish he had the courage to do something other than run away. Even though he wanted to reach out to others, he knew he couldn’t. They would eventually see what he really was; a coward, a nobody.

So on that one particularly miserable afternoon, when Yuuri’s umbrella had broken and he was forced to stand in the rain and got soaked by a vehicle speeding through a puddle, he never would have expected to gain the attention of a man with bright blue eyes and a dazzling smile that seemed to light up even the darkest room.

He never thought that with all the people he tried to avoid, he would actually make an attempt to know more about this man, or that this man would somehow stubbornly not let him reject an offer to go out to a club or to dance with him.

Or that this man would kiss him, and that Yuuri would want to kiss him back.

He’d never met anyone like Adrien before in his life. He was terrified that eventually Adrien would be just like the others. He wouldn’t blame him, but that didn’t mean he would be any less devastated.

He thought about Adrien now, as he crouched at the top of a low building, watching as a mother walked down the street with her child, no older than he’d been when he lost his own mother. He could feel the resentment and bitterness boil up inside him, and he clenched his jaw shut as he watched them as they stopped at a car to get inside and drive off.

It was dangerous, how close he was getting to Adrien, how much he wanted to know more about him. It was distracting him from his duty as an officer of the negaverse, just how thoughts of the mother he never knew distracted him.

Kamacite closed his eyes and tried to think of better things, like bright blue eyes and warm smiles and the taste and smell of coffee. He let out a sigh and pushed himself up to head back to Adrien’s apartment.

There went another night in which he was too distracted to collect any energy or starseeds.