Cri De Coeur ||Mikayuu||

⚜22⚜

Apparently I was the only one shocked by the fact we were on a cargo ship. Except for Mika. But he just seemed worried. Lola explained that the Ringleader doesn't want to pay for plane tickets for us, so he puts us in a cargo ship with the rest of our props, telling everyone involved that our truck in itself was filled props.

Seems to describe him well.

We couldn't leave the truck for the first day, Lola complaining the most about it, but she wasn't the one that was bothered by it. Mika was.

His eyes were darting around nervously, frantic and never staying in one spot. He was sitting against the wall by his bunk, knees drawn close to him. The grip he held loosened once I hauled myself next to him. As if changing his body language forcefully meant I wouldn't notice his uneasiness.

"Are you alright, Mika?" I asked, meeting his sidelong gaze.
"Yeah. I'm fine." He said quietly, his left hand brushing part of his bangs behind his ear.
"You're lying." I nudged him with an elbow.
"I can't breath. It hurts to. No fresh air." He admitted through a mumble. Except Colette had opened the hatch in the ceiling. Was he claustrophobic? No, we were always in here. Then, it hit me.
Anxiety.

"Come on." I took his hand, tugging him to the ladder. He climbed after me with confused movements, realizing my intentions when I kicked Colette out of her vanity chair, placing it beneath the skylight. He went first, pulling me up afterwards.
"Plenty of really salty fresh air up here." I joked, sitting down on the cold metal.

"Nothing says fresh air like rotting seaweed and fish feces."
"Well aren't you a ball of optimistic sunshine."
"It was a joke." He sighed.
"I know. It was a horrible joke." I nudged him with my shoulder. He stuck out his tongue as retaliation. I knew he was still uncomfortable, but now taking deep breaths, focusing on other things instead. We didn't talk much, complaining about how cold our legs (and butts) were from the truck once in a while. I suggested getting a blanket but he declined, much preferring my company always present than gone for less than a minute.

Then we went back once Mika was calm, and I watched him get into another fight with Ferid. Which consisted of Lola cheering them on, Colette screaming about her art supplies, and me being confused.

What an interesting day it's been.

They fought over so many things, I've stopped looking for the reasons why. Ferid landed one solid punch on Mika, who in turn pounded him into a pulp. Something must have torn in his cheek, because he spent the next ten minutes rinsing blood from his mouth with me as an audience in the bathroom. He muttered something about blood not tasting good if it's his own. Mika's personality at the way he is confused me. He was rebellious one second, the next afraid to even hold my hand. Sweet, then threatening Ferid for touching my shoulder. It confused me, how he was on and off. He spat blood into the sink, watching it flow down the drain with the steady flow of water, eyes slightly narrowing. His eyes seemed to reflect the color of the Crimson liquid fading away quickly, but it seemed to be my imagination. Mika shut off the faucet,taking my hand gently, brushing up my sleeve as he lifted my arm to his face, fangs burying themselves into my skin. I had to suppress giggles at the fact that this kind of tickled, which sucked.
"Literally."
Wow, thanks for the unnecessary commentary.

"Sorry," Mika said as he released my arm, wiping at his lips with his own. "It wasn't healing." He explained, pulling at his left cheek.
"It's fine." I shrugged, standing from my seat on the closed toilet seat. Ferid was messing with his strings in his bed for Lola's entertainment. Colette was working on her paintings decorating the blank space of the wall.
I entertained myself with a puzzle beneath the bunk, Mika stretching for a long while. Then he joined me to help with the puzzle and to watch videos on my phone. Although he found a very weird pastime of listening to my heartbeat. Maybe he always did that. He did mention being able to hear my pulse a long while ago.

"Hey, Mika?" I asked, his sapphire eyes meeting mine, curious as to what I was wondering. "I just noticed something. If you joined the circus when we were eleven, that would mean Lola was seven." I said.
"Yeah, she was." He nodded, trying to figure out what I was saying.
"She also mentioned that She was the second member, Ferid the first. When did Lola join?"
"A few years before me." His brows furrowed, seeming to place information I didn't know into place.

"Hey, Ferid, come here." Mika ordered, not bothering to move me off him. Ferid soon appeared.
"Whatchya need, lovebirds?" He teasingly asked.
"How old was Lola when she joined?"
Something flickered in his gaze, but it quickly vanished.
"When she was six. Why?"
"No reason. Bye." Mika shooed him off with a hand.

Six. Lola was four when she joined. Mika was twelve. I was eleven. We had no idea how old Colette and Ferid were.
"He isn't above kidnapping children. It doesn't surprise me. But it does make me wonder if her family gave up on finding her." Mika mumbled. He had mentioned previously that he obtained his education online, so the same must have gone for Lola. This also explained how skilled she was in dance despite being sixteen. It made my anger grow, just the knowledge that she has lived her entire life like this.

It made me think about my own family. My mom would be waiting at home for me, no matter how long I was gone. She would have had to tell my grandparents about the situation, but tone it down greatly, since they would drop dead upon hearing the entire story. I couldn't help but smile as I Remembered them. They were ridiculous and loony, but never failed to make sure my mom wasn't struggling. They even sent me a 'get well soon' card shortly after Mika's disappearance long ago. It had the first seashell of my collection taped inside.
God, I missed my life.

"Hey, Mika?"

His steady breathing blowing at my face. It tickled.

"Yes?"

A short intake of breath from me.

"I want to go home."

Silence. His fingertips gently tracing the outline of  my jaw, starting from the bottom of my ear.

"Me too."