CLOSE YOUR FRIGHTENED EYES | PRIVATE, HANA

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    Pierce didn’t know what to do. For the first time in so long, he was lost. He didn’t have anyone - something was up with Mike, Ev had disappeared, Lottie and Rid, his usual go-tos for help, were long gone -, but a guide was what he needed the most right now. He was alone, so, so alone, now that the one man that had ever loved him was gone. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad, had he not been left with no boyfriend and a belly full of kittens. Only weeks ago, he’d have been ecstatic at the news. Now, he didn’t know what to do with it. He could raise kids by himself, sure, but this whole pregnancy thing was something else entirely, something that hadn’t been meant to happen. Pierce should have expected this. Things that were supposed to be good for him always managed to go sour. Children were blessings. He knew that. But he couldn’t do this, and he was sure about that, too. Not alone.


    But if not alone, with who? Who could he trust, that knew him well enough, that he knew wouldn’t tell anyone else about this? Only Chesspieces knew so far, of course, and there were so few people who could keep a secret anymore, and even fewer who would take Pierce, high-voiced, gentle-mannered, seriously. Luckily, he could think of one person that he knew would be able to keep her mouth shut, one person who had never pushed him away or changed or hurt him in any way, aside from when she disappeared from time to time, which was okay. They all had people to take care of.


    It was Hana, of course, pretty much the last person he had left. They had been friends from the day they met, their friendship originally a casual acquaintance, though after the one time Hana opened up to him, they had been rather close. They didn’t talk to hang out a lot, but he felt safe in the slightly older femme’s presence, and he knew he could rely on her to at least listen and not repeat what he told her. So, after taking a day at home to collect himself after Chesspieces broke the news to him and trying (and failing) to get some food in his now constantly churning stomach, he had wrapped himself up in his old red scarf - he couldn’t bear to look at his newer one right now - and set out to Hana’s den.


    The sun was beginning to set, its absence bringing a new chill to the air as petite paws crunched over the snow. His scarf fit him a bit differently than it did before, hanging somewhat lower than it had on his male body, but it wasn’t a huge deal, and the fact that his scarf didn’t quite fit right was the least of his worries about this body right now.


    The emerald-eyed feline halted outside Hana’s home, a soft exhale creating a little puff of vapor in the air as he raised a paw, knocking gently on her door. “Hana?” he called gently, sounding the same as before save for his pitch having gone up a bit, “it’s Pierce. I need to talk to you.”


    konohana  


    //mobile

    tags

    eighty pounds of wreckage in a mason jar *:･ﾟ✧*

    ( you're a bit combustible, don't break my heart )

    Fantasy was her escape.


    A distraction from reality, the ability to lose herself inside a fictional world and concern herself with the imaginary problems of others that disappeared the moment she switched the power off. It had been her coping mechanism since she was a child, grinding through boss battles on her gameboy while war was waged outside her bedroom walls. Hana knew fear: oh, she'd battled it every day as she fought for her lives and the lives of her family from the snapping jaws of beasts that wished to devour them. Hana knew how to swallow that fear, to channel it inward to spew fire into the faces of those she once knew as acquaintances, watch them writhe in agony as flames consumed their emaciated bodies. Hana was intimate with fear, regret, the churning of her stomach at the scent of seared flesh and the anguished cries of those that had not been given the mercy of death before being ripped apart and consumed. Hana was so far away from that horrible imagery, but it seared itself into her dreams every night, a neverending recording of the mistakes she had made and the lives she had costed. Because she hesitated. Took just a second too long to move, a second too late to capture their paws in the soil beneath them, a second too late slash their throats open with well-polished claws. Her aunt died because Hana was too scared to save her. It was not just reality but an everyday occurrence: victories against savages overshadowed by the loss of her neighbors, friends, family. Hana had learned how to swallow that misery, how to smile through her grief, how to see through eyes clogged with tears and smoke, how to strike swift and true even when her heart thundered so heavily in her chest it might burst from her ribs and fall before her eyes.


    Gods, she could not hide from her fear this time.


    This was not a fear Hana was familiar with: Hana knew war, battles, loss, conquest. The struggle of the present, to forge a future for oneself. Never before did Hana have to peer into such a future. A future she wouldn't be alone in. Hana had been responsible for lives before: she'd taken lives away, saved lives, watched them grow and blossom just as she had watched them wither and decay. But Hana had never been in charge of the lives of others outside of a battlefield setting, where she was ready to lay down her own for them. To create new ones. Delicate and fragile, so easy to corrupt and hurt. Hana's stomach flips at the very idea. So much could go wrong. War was easy. You win or you lose, you live or you die. Children were not. They required a gentle but firm hand, an understanding mind and consistent rules. Hana had none of those things: and if something, anything, went wrong for them it would be her fault. She'd be labeled a bad mother, and it would surprise no one. Hana was fearful. She had run every option through her head countless times, from raising them with their father happily to cutting herself open and removing them while her Clanmates were none the wiser. Hana's stomach rolls again, nausea closing her throat. How could she even consider such a horrible thing? She did not want them, and they would not want her once they got to know her, just like everyone else she had come in contact with. But at least they would be alive to hate her. Oh, Gods, she couldn't bare to think if they weren't alive at birth. If one of them was hurt, if she'd done something wrong carrying to term and it left a permanent mark on their bodies. Stillborn, deformed, suffering because Hana couldn't take care of them, she didn't know how, she'd never know, lifeless at the side of her body they'd never know how much she loved them she never wanted this to happen to them she didn't want them she didn't want she didn't want she didn't want-


    Her stomach tossed violently, small ivory paw slamming down on the controller to pause her game as she lurched from her bedding and retched. The violent action was met with only air passing through her throat, eyes pressed tightly shut as she recovered from her dry heave.


    The games weren't distracting her anymore.


    The soft knock on her door was close to unnoticed through the blood rushing through her ears, rounded ears swiveling back to hug the top of her head. Hana's nerves finally caught up with her, breaths evening out as the trembling she acquired in her panic attack came to a slow end. The visitor's voice was easily detectable across the soft menu theme of Kingdom Hearts and the dulling throb in her ears, even easier to identify as one of the few friends- if only- she had in BlizzardClan. Without picking up the specifics of his speech she was able to grasp that there were two syllables he called, which Hana quickly pieced together as either "hello" or her name. Untangling herself from the mass of blankets she had wove herself into, the Oriental feline pushed the controller toward the television while remaining cautious to not accidentally resume the game with her shaky movements. Her legs felt as though they were about to give out as she rose onto them, walking on threads ready to collapse in themselves rather than limbs. Despite all the noise in her small home the creek of the aged wooden dear felt deafening as she pulled it open, an immediate gust of chilled winter air causing her fur to rise. A familiar yet strange face greeted her, backlit by the dipping sun lazily drifting down beneath the horizon. It was by no means unrecognizable. "Pierce," she greeted in a voice close to a whisper, ears slowly pulling forward from her head. The games weren't working, but Pierce's presence sure was. More problems bury her nose in, conflicts to fret over that had no relation to her. Gods, it wasn't good to begin to blur the lines between fiction and reality- especially when it came to her friend. The milk chocolate feline took a slow step back, just as time-consuming as her previous actions had been, allowing room for the unmarred serval comfortable access through the door.


    "Is everything okay?"

    Parenthood itself was something Pierce was familiar with. That wasn't what scared him. For, he knew he could handle the sleepless nights, having to stay up all night and read the same book over and over to his two drowsy twins who just couldn't fall asleep. He knew how to deal with the days where they woke up vomiting, or where he simply couldn't seem to figure out why they wouldn't stop crying. Sometimes, he'd lose things, and he'd have to sit his kids down to remind them some things weren't allowed to be touched, especially not without permission. Some days, he would awaken to an empty den. The first time this happened, he panicked, and each time it still gripped his chest with fear, though usually the little Parkers were just out playing in the leaves. No, it wasn't such things that frightened him about his pregnancy, but the pregnancy itself. He had never imagined he'd be the carrier of his children, and even if he had thought of it, he would have thought he'd be with his boyfriend. Now he was alone, in a situation he had never dreamed would happen.


    He was helpless, something he hadn't felt in a long time, and he hated it. Hated the feeling he got when he looked in the mirror every day, his brain creating the illusion of his belly seemingly swelling every time he looked at it, filling with the babies he so desperately wished didn't exist. He didn't want them gone - he would love them, if he made it through this, he knew -, but he just didn't want them to have ever existed. Things would be so much easier without the aches and pains, and the morning sickness, and the loneliness. He wasn't alone, of course, but each time the thought of his future children crossed his mind, he couldn't help but think of his dearest Everett, who he would do anything to have by his side during this. Of course, that wasn't happening. If Ev were to return, he'd be coming back on his own time.


    Anxiety pulsed through the serval's small form as he heard small, indiscernible noises from inside his friend's den, unsure what they were but knowing this was probably his only chance to turn and leave before Hana came to the door. He stood his ground, though, chewing his lower lip as he listened to her approaching pawsteps. They were soft, almost inaudible, though grew louder and louder as she neared. His heart hammered in his chest, his sharp teeth drawing blood as he bit down on his lip. He shouldn't have come here. Sure, he and Hana were friends, but... what if she thought he was weird, because he was a boy? Or dumb, for getting himself pregnant in the first place? Maybe he could turn back now, before she saw him-


    The door swung open to reveal a rather tired, disheveled looking Hana, and for a moment Pierce forgot his worries, far too occupied by the thought of what might have brought Hana to such a state to think about the shit he was dealing with. She looked unhappy, distant, things she... should not be. Hana was supposed to be happy, and energetic, and easy to be around. This version of her reminded him of the time she had showed up at his doorstep, a sobbing mess. He couldn't even remember what she'd been crying over; only that he had had to comfort her and cease her tears. At least that was another thing he knew he'd be able to do with his kittens. That was something he had always been able to do with everyone; soothe them, no matter the circumstances. At least, most of the time, for his kindly touch and his gentle, honey-sweet voice was enough to at least distract one from the tears that fell past soft-furred features, or the vulgar shouts that slipped by drunken lips. He had that sort of spell on people, always somehow managing to take care of and calm them, no matter how much of a mess they were, or how horribly broken he was.


    "Pierce," Her voice, soft, somewhat raspy, snapped him out of his thoughts, his tongue sliding over his pink nose as he gazed down at the cocoa-furred molly. She was a mess, wasn't she? What on earth was going on? He was about to ask, when her next question escaped her maw. "Is everything okay?"


    Oh, how terribly he wanted to ignore that question. Everything was not okay. It was so very not okay, so much so that he didn't even know where to begin. Should he just spill it all, right here? No- they were letting the cold in, and quite frankly, he was freezing out here. Choosing to avoid the smaller feline's question, Pierce inquired, "Can I come in?" There was so much he had to tell her, so much he desperately wanted to keep to himself.



    tags

    eighty pounds of wreckage in a mason jar *:･ﾟ✧*

    ( you're a bit combustible, don't break my heart )

    A thin smile found its way onto her features, borderline instinctual as Pierce's state came fully to her attention as the door came to a creaking stop. Fake but not hollow, a cruel reversal of roles the first time they had found themselves in this situation with each other. The irony was not lost on Hana: rather it was a weight on her shoulders, a burden to support Pierce as he had done for her. Her throat closed at the notion, gaze briefly flicking off of the serval. Pierce was not a burden. His presence, his problems, she would support him just as fiercely as she would fight for him. She wondered now, in hindsight, if Pierce had any demons he was fighting when she stumbled to his home in the late hours of the night just as Hana did now. She wondered now if she had ever caused Pierce any distress, if his heart was just as heavy that night as hers was now. Pierce was not the image of strength, of masculinity: he was soft, understanding, kind. He was a shoulder to lean on. As naive as it now sounded, Hana had never considered her friend might be just as adept at hiding his problems as she was. His The silence that stretched between them was the most resounding answer Pierce could give to her questions, smile fading and eyebrows drawn into a concerned frown as the quiet stretched on between the duo, taking a moment to simply study each other. Hana was not used to being the responsible one. To being the firm hand, the intellectual, to take a cool look at the circumstances and calmly determine the best course of action. That was supposed to be Pierce. But Gods, he was a leaf in late fall, brittle and hanging on by a few threads of sinew ready to give way beneath the pressure of a soft breeze.


    When Pierce broke the silence asking for invitation into her home, Hana's eyes widened slightly as her attention was torn from her thoughts to focus directly on the Pierce standing before her, rather than the image Hana had come to admire of him. She had stepped back for him, opened her door for him- was it not enough? Hana's expression relaxed into a neutral state as she took another small step back, silently chiding herself for such a selfish thought. It wasn't that odd of Pierce to want an actual confirmation, let alone when his eyes were glassy and lips pulled down into a frown. "Of course," the bicoloured feline affirmed in a hoarse voice, reminiscent to the rough sound of gravel beneath boots. Hana had no roommates, no direct neighbours she feared of disturbing: Hana could not outwardly wallow when Pierce needed- wanted her. Selfish, Hana reminded herself, grazing her bottom lip between sharp teeth as she finally moved away from the door to advance to the back wall of her home. "Always." There would never be a time she would turn him away. He might not call her the same, but Hana considered him a friend: a close one. One of few, if the only. The soft theme music of the game she had left paused hurt her ears as she neared her television set up, remaining rotated back on her head to listen for the heavier steps of the serval to assure he was following her. While not dirty her home was not exactly clean either, and Hana became very aware of such as she lifted a paw to step into her nest of blankets: stacks of cased games, assorted tangles of cords, her bed- a wad of bedding far from appealing. It was... homely, lived in. Pierce wasn't here to be her interior designer, Hana knew, but his judgement scared her now more than ever.


    ... When did she reach such a low she feared her friend's judgement? Pierce's disapproval? When had she grown to doubt everything around her so severely it had turned inward on those she held close?


    Hana settled herself in her bed as far right toward the wall as she could, leaving enough room for Pierce if he chose to join her. It would be a bit of a tight fit, not that Hana minded the personal contact but she figured Pierce would like the option of either directly next to her in her "nest" or alongside the mess of blankets and pillows where he could pull out something small for himself. An ivory paw reached out to tap at the volume control, music becoming little more than a distant hum even as Hana sat less than a foot away from the screen. Her lip had found itself between her teeth once more, chewing nervously on the sore flesh. Just looking at the pause screen caused her anxiety to rise, a disturbing reminder of the panic attack she was still coming down from. Her paw darted forward toward the power button, screen responding immediately as the room went silent and put into darkness. The room was now illuminated solely by the natural light of the clouded moon shining through the few windows she had. Drawing in a long breath, Oriental mixbreed slowly turned her head toward Pierce, her worried scowl much more prominent on her features despite being shrouded in darkness.


    "Pierce, is everything okay?"

    Pierce had always been rather skillful at hiding his emotions- perhaps it was because of the way he had been raised. First, by humans, who probably couldn't read his emotions anyway, and then Riddlersgame. Although "raised" was a very loose term when it came to their relationship, the older tabby had always been cool, quiet, a master at masking whatever it was he was feeling, to keep the knowledge of it from his young apprentice. The serval, at the time, hadn't even realized he was morphing into a smaller version of that; quiet, reserved, not caring to share how he was really feeling with anyone. He was all smiles, always, no matter what was going on with him or who he was talking to. As time went on, he only became better at hiding all of it; his fear, his anger, his pain. It all fell away whenever he had to address someone, held back by his gentle words and sweet smiles. It was a defense mechanism, of sorts, to force a grin onto his features and feign happiness. That was his job, after all - he was supposed to be the happy one, the one everyone could trust, the one who, if he ever was sad, or anything else, really, it would probably freak everyone out. Because that was not Pierce Parker - Pierce Parker didn't cry, or raise his voice. He was always calm, collected, and fair. That was what was expected from him, so that was what he always portrayed. Even when he had been left with nothing - no best friend, no sister, no one at all -, he had managed. But now? Left behind by his only love and stuck in a body he wasn't supposed to be in- with kittens in it? He just didn't know what to do. If Lottie were here, she'd help him. If Rid were here, he would, too, though Pierce imagined he might be a little angry about the whole Everett thing. But they weren't here, and neither of them were ever coming back. There was no one to help him, no one but her, so he could only hope she would at least be able to listen.


    The smile that wound its away around Hana's features couldn't quite be described as... fake, but it sure felt like it. In this moment, he could hardly even remember what true joy felt like; he still smiled, still offered his usual kind words, but the little grins of glee that used to often decorate his maw were long gone, and he didn't know when - or if - they would return. But her smile was not one of joy - it was something else. One of kindness, of understanding, though when it finally slipped from her maw, Pierce knew she understood. He blinked tired emerald eyes down at the little femme, taking a shaky breath to steady himself. He was fine- this was all going to be fine. Though, he couldn't stop the shaking of his paws, the way his heart pounded in his chest. Why was he so afraid? Of Hana, of all people? She cared, she understood. She could help, even. But the thought of the words even forming on his tongue brought him into a state of panic. No one knew yet - no one could even tell, considering he had just found out himself -, and he knew he'd have to come out and say it someday, but the thought of anyone but Chesspieces knowing... terrified him. What if she didn't think of him the same way anymore? What if she thought he was weird, or stupid, or- god, he had to stop thinking like this.


    "Of course,"


    A soft sigh, one that seemed to be one of relief, escaped his lips as he was welcomed inside. It wasn't that he had expected her to turn him away- he just still couldn't believe he was doing this. He paused for only a moment, closing his eyes and taking a long, deep breath before he stepped inside, allowing the edges of his lips to twitch up into a faint smile. "Thank you," he murmured softly, blinking against the faint light that glowed from the television. Even in the most dire of times, with the closest of his friends - or, his only friend -, it seemed the little vice-leader never forgot his manners; it was just nature, at this point, the words slipping past his lips even before they formed in his mind. His green gaze flickered around the hut as he followed absently after his dear friend, merely observing the home he was shocked he had never been in. It was a nice little home, a bit small, though suitable for just one person, like Hana. As the Oriental feline took a seat, he followed after her, choosing to settle himself down beside her far smaller form, though he tried his best to give her her own space, which was... a bit difficult in the small space.


    When she turned the television off, the small buzz of music in the background going silent and the area suddenly going black, save for the slight light the moon offered- luckily, his eyes were quick to adjust, though the darkness was the least of his worries as Hana fixed her gaze on him. He didn't even have to look to know it- he could feel her eyes on his speckled form, though he didn't care to look over to her. There was silence between the two of them for a few moments, Pierce trying to regulate his breathing, when she finally spoke up again, repeating herself. His paws shook more violently now, emerald eyes closing to fend off the tears that already formed in them.


    He would not cry.


    "No," he answered simply, his voice shockingly even despite how soft it was, hardly more than a whisper. The dappled feline paused, his eyes fluttering open as he forced himself to speak once more. Admitting it to Hana was partially like accepting it for himself; accepting that this was real, that it was really happening to him, and he couldn't do anything to stop it. It's gonna be okay, he told himself. Would it? He had Hana, but it wasn't like she'd ever had kids, or been in this situation. She wouldn't judge him, though, would she? He... didn't think so. "I made a mistake," Pierce managed, glancing over to the girl beside him. He hadn't thought about safety with Ev- he'd never been a girl before, so the thought had never crossed his mind, but god, he regretted it now. There was another moment's silence, a moment where he hesitated, though as he urged himself with a, Spit it out already! , he blurted,


    "I'm pregnant."

    tags