Infinity, Taken Literally

Identity 18

Light feet move along the hallway floor, pausing at every corner to listen for anyone else who might be up at this time of night. They move like this is a mission they have completed numerous times before, knowing exactly what turns to take and when to stop to make sure no one is following. The hooded figure moves with practised steps, knowing exactly what sections of the floor will creak if they step on it. They move as close to the walls as they can get, trying to blend in with the shadows.

Pausing at the next corner, he tugs the hat covering his wild red hair down and pulls his hood up to hide it even further. Trying to hide his most distinguishing trait is a struggle because even in the dark it stands out. It's like he's carrying around a sign that screams: 'It's me!'.

Listening out for the tell-tale sound of heartbeats or footsteps, he presses into the shadows and holds his breath. After a moment of confirming the silence, he glances down the hallway. The door to the room he knows Adam is in is ajar. The white light of the TV screen flickers out and covers the hallway in a white glow.

It's a room that he himself visits often, if anything he spends more time in there watching the screen than he does in his actual room. That wasn't saying much given how much he hates his own room; it gives him a bad feeling that still hasn't gone away after almost a year of living in it. The control room is the one place in this massive manor where the loneliness isn't so overwhelming. The screens are the closest he can get to people who don't also live here.

On the days when it really hit him, when he would spend weeks in bed unable to get out. When a sadness so profound would consume him that he'd spend the night crying himself to sleep with no idea why. Those kinds of days were the only time he'd let himself replay old races of Langa's. Watching them brought more pain than comfort, but he couldn't tear his eyes off of the screen and would usually fall asleep in his chair watching them. Sometimes, he'd wake back up in that chair and drag himself to his bed. Other times he'd wake up already there and would endeavour to be nicer to Tadashi for the rest of the week.

Sneaking up to the door, Reki pauses out of view to listen. Voices filter out but nothing that he can hear clearly over the buzz of the TV. It had taken a while to get comfortable enough to be in the same room as Adam. It still isn't something he'd willingly do if he didn't have to, but they had come to an unspoken agreement about when they would put everything aside to call a truce. Watching S every week was one of those times. They rarely talked, sometimes Adam would critique a skater's technique. It would then become an argument where he tried to get Reki to tell him what they were doing wrong. Of course, half the time he didn't know the answer or didn't care enough to figure it out. They'd argue and fall back into silence when Tadashi would make his presence known as a silent reminder of the neutral ground.

Holding his breath, Reki ducks past the door and pauses. Forcing his heart to slow as much as possible so he can listen for any indication that either of the men in the room has picked up on his presence. He doesn't move again until he's certain that he's remained undetected.

It had taken weeks of trying every door and window in the mansion to find one that was unlocked. It was highly suspicious that to get to the only one he could find, you had to pass past the control room. It definitely seemed like one of Adam's tricks, he wasn't stupid. Hence, he didn't do anything for the first two months after finding it. But then his boredom got the better of him and he'd cracked and snuck out. The last time he'd used it, his cover had almost been blown when he ran into Adam while on his way back to his room. He hasn't risked sneaking out since then.

But Adam just had to go ahead and piss him off yesterday, so right now he can't bring himself to care if it's a trap. Staying quiet, Reki swiftly moves away from the door and down the next few hallways. Approaching the window at the end, he glances around for signs of a trap. It's almost more suspicious when he doesn't find anything. Then the window opens easily and the warning bells in his head get even louder. But still, nothing happens. No one comes running and no alarms go off. All that surrounds him is the crisp night air and the sound of the outside world.