Freedom.
A strange concept that he had never exprienced before.
It was ironic that he should only feel it now, when so many things were falling apart around him.
...
He didn't have anything.
That was the first harsh realization that came to him.
He didn't have anything. No money and no identification to prove he was who he said. And really, he should have thought of that when he had been making his decision.
But he hadn't. So now he had to live with the consequences.
...
That was a lie. He did have one thing.
Entering the code on the keypad almost came as second nature, and he sighed in relief as the light turned green. Apparently either his parents - still - hadn't noticed that their son was missing. Or, most likely, they just didn't care. Were content to continue to pay rent on some place that was never going to be used again just to save face.
He could see it now. The story they would spin. About him getting into some prestigious school some where. Of how he was going to be a doctor. Had received a full scholarship. They were just so proud.
The thought alone was enough to make him sick. And as his hand traveled downwards, pressed in against the rapidly flattening swell of his own belly, he made a silent promise that he would love his own child in all of the ways he had never been. Would accept them in all of the ways he had never been. Would be better. So much better.
Because he would actually love his child. And that alone was an improvement.
It was dark and dusty and obviously untouched, not even the weekly cleaning service apparently bothering to show up. Part of him wanted to know. Desperately wanted answers to his questions. Wondered which it was. If his parents had even noticed or if they just didn't care.
He knew. He didn't have to ask in order to know.
And it wasn't like he could go back now anyway. He could just imagine it. Showing up at their door step with an alphas mark embedded in his neck and child growing in his womb.
The look on their faces might be worth it though. But he had a feeling nothing could measure up to the final outcome.
Everything that had once been so important was gone now. His wallet. His cell phone. His identification and the debit card linked to the account his parents still, for some inexplicable reason, filtered money into. It wasn't like he could touch it anyway. He knew his mother got alerts, always knew when and where it had been used.
Honestly, it was better for all of them if they thought he was simply gone. It wasn't like they wanted him around in the first place.
But he kept a spare debit card in the bottom drawer of the dresser next to his bed. One that was linked to a second account that his parents weren't aware of. One that he had been funneling money into for actual years. It wasn't much. But it was enough. Would get him by for a few days.
Because he knew that's all it was going to take for the alpha to find him. If he wasn't on his trail already.
He moved through the tiny space like a ghost. As if he had become a phantom who was well aware that he no longer belonged in the place he was walking. The drawer slipped open, and silently he praised his past self for being so smart. Because there was a stack of paper money laying on top. A few thousand yen, not much at all, really, but it would leave no trail. Would allow him to move at least once without giving anything away.
