Our Own Music

Chapter 11; The Song of the Truth

Lance would never have thought, in any of the worse scenarios he had ever imagined, that his first date would have gone wrong so rapidly. Technically, it wasn't his fault, and the relationship itself wasn't hanging on the balance, but it felt all the same at the end; he had arrived, nervous about the awkwardness he might have to deal with, but now, tension spread within the whole room, choking every living being between the four walls: Keith, Shiro, Adam, himself, and this purple lady who claimed to be Keith's mother.

Her name was Krolia. She had tried to break in Keith's room, in a house that wasn't even her son's. And she knew she hadn't done things the right way, because right now, under the four men's glare, she was keeping her head low and averting their eyes.

The atmosphere was so strained and so dense that Lance had difficulty swallowing. He heard his heart beat in his ears, and keeping his shoulders relaxed was laborious, just as laborious as breathing calmly. Grudge, pain, regret, it all weighted down the air and made it hard for him not to fidget under the evident pressure. Even though it wasn't held against him...

He was standing close to the door, uncomfortable, ready to leave as soon as someone would tell him off, would dismiss him; he was stuck between family affairs, after all, and this was none of his business. But even if he wished for nothing better than to escape, Lance couldn't bring himself to leave Keith before he made sure that the young man would be alright. And for now, it obviously wasn't the case; Lance felt his soul being crushed, torn apart by a feeling of outrage, of wrath, of ardent pain and infinite despair. Intense, stubborn, hot-headed Keith had withdrawn into cold, emotionless, impenetrable Keith as soon as he had recognized his mother and felt the tears run down his face. And that Keith was the one who held too much secrets for the goods of him. A melancholic, raging, lost Keith, a Keith afraid to be rejected, but also afraid to speak.

Because this was how Lance had finally pierced his mask of darkness and mystery: Keith wasn't scary, he was scared.

Adam stood in the corner of the dining room, arms crossed; his expression seemed calm, even careless, but if someone approached close enough, they could see the furor raging like a storm in his soul, the infinite madness that someone had dared endangering his husband and the one he considered like a son.

Shiro was leaning on the counter, and Lance could see, from his face, his inner struggle to keep his expression neutral. If he had doubted that Adam and Shiro were bound by their soul, now, he was proved wrong: Adam's emotions mirrored exactly what Shiro tried to push away until he would get to judge. How he managed to look open and not accusing, Lance would never know. But he guessed that, having known the woman, the man still held good memories he was reluctant to darken until he would hear the explanations of his aunt's acts. Shiro was part of this, after all; she was his family too.

Keith was facing Krolia, seated on the opposite side of the table. Despite hiding how he truly felt, Lance knew how betrayed, how abandoned he had been his whole life, and how hard he tried to refrain himself from bursting into screams after his mother. Lance couldn't help but being impressed by how much he had grown. Unless Keith had been deeply distressed, deeply traumatized by Acxa's actions, and that this was too much battles to fight all at once. Especially since both sides hated each other, and since he was stuck in the middle of this war.

That last thought, especially since it held at least a part of truth, broke Lance's heart in million pieces after all that Keith went through.

Krolia had begged Keith to at least let her speak before he would judge by himself if he ever wanted to see her again. She had been strong and stubborn, and she didn't look like the submissive kind of woman, but for her son, she seemed ready to sacrifice everything.