Out in the play area, the children were winding down, scattered around the yard, either sitting quietly or still running around with bursts of energy. Kazou's eyes immediately sought out Ten, but the boy was nowhere in sight. A brief panic surged in his chest, and for a moment, his mind spiraled—Where is he? Then, as if sensing his thoughts, Kazou saw Ten's figure, sitting beneath a tree, still holding the Forgotten Soldier book. The boy didn't look up as Kazou approached, his hands slowly turning the pages as if there was nothing else in the world. The image of the soldier—the war-torn, faceless figure—stared back at Kazou from the pages. The illustration was haunting. Kazou swallowed.
"Ten," he said again, his voice quieter this time,
Ten looked up, he was smiling, his eyes sparkling up at Kazou.
"Ten, why this book? I thought that Dr. Hanasaki took it away?" Kazou asked, his voice shaking slightly. "It's... not something a child should be reading."
Kazou bent over and glanced at the book's cover. A name stood out. The author's name.
The Forgotten Soldier.
By: Berend Vos
The boy blinked, his gaze flickering down to the page once more.
"Because...It's what I am. A soldier forgotten by everyone. A soldier no one will ever remember." Kazou's stomach clenched, a shiver running down his spine. This wasn't good! Kazou had to make sure Ten got adopted sooner rather than later, he was depressed because of growing up here. Maybe if Kazou bonded with him more and found him a family, Ten would be happier.
"Why do you think that? Why would you say something like that?" Kazou asked, his voice almost a whisper.
Ten's eyes shifted slowly to meet Kazou's again, his smile fading, his eyes devoid of any emotion.
"Because, Father... That's what humans do. We forget. We leave each other alone. You and I are no different than the others. Isn't that right, Father? Right?"
Kazou's heart stopped. For a split second, the entire world felt heavy as if the weight of the words had anchored him to the spot. He didn't know how to respond, or if he even could. This wasn't just a child. This was a child carrying the burdens and traumas of someone who's seen things that no child should be exposed to. Ten's face softened just slightly, but the flicker of vulnerability was gone before Kazou could even comprehend it.
"Are you going to leave me, too, Father?" Ten asked, his voice soft and cold, his eyes never leaving Kazou's. Kazou froze. So it wasn't that Ten wanted to be adopted. Ten was afraid of being separated from the only home he's ever known in this life. His heart was heavy with something unspeakable, something that he couldn't acknowledge without breaking apart.
"I... I'm not leaving you, Ten," he whispered.
Ten didn't respond. He simply turned the page. Kazou felt the weight of it. The forgotten soldier. The forgotten child. Kazou wouldn't let Ten feel hurt.