Chapter Text
The entirety of Nicholas' life has been packed into two black plastic bin bags.
One of them is on the car seat next to him. The other hadn't quite fit into the small middle section and instead leans awkwardly against his legs. Something inside has a sharp edge. It leaves a red indent on his thigh, but his attempts at trying to move it have proved fruitless.
It doesn't matter. He's too afraid of accidentally tearing the bag to keep trying.
Instead, he bears the pain. It's only uncomfortable if he really thinks about it, and there are specific reasons that he keeps thinking about it. It's easier to concentrate on the dull ache than pay attention to the trees and houses speeding past his view through the car window. It's something other than the low hum of the engine. It means he does not have to think about what all of this means.
"Five minutes away," his social worker, Kazuha, tells him. Her nails are long and neatly painted where they're wrapped around the steering wheel. They match her silky hair perfectly. She looks far too well put-together to exist anywhere in the context of what is happening here.
Her voice is also too loud to ignore.
Nicholas sighs. His hands go to move the bin bag again, only to end up resting on the plastic. He'd already tested the door handles when the car had first started moving. He hadn't made any attempt to hide his actions, and Kazuha equally hadn't hidden the way she'd engaged the child locks.
He thinks about slamming his head into the window just for the noise to interrupt the tension beginning to settle. But no, that would simply end up with more mandatory concern than he can afford to elicit right now.
Nicholas is already on thin ice.
This is his second official meeting with Kazuha, even though Nicholas has been in foster care for several years and shuffled from more homes than he can count at this point. The woman assigned to him before her had been nice, if a slightly older lady and clearly out of her depth with how Nicholas' case was appearing to unravel. He could only conclude that she'd given up his assignment willingly after...
Well. After the reason his last foster home placement had ended.
If she'd listened to his requests not to stay there any longer, maybe he wouldn't have had to resort to such measures. As it was, she'd smiled at him with thin lips and told him to stick with it . They were such lovely people , she just didn't understand why Nicholas seemed intent on acting out - didn't he appreciate them taking him in?
The answer, as he had told her, was that he did not. And when she hadn't listened, he'd gone out and made sure he was caught shoplifting at the small corner store at the end of the road.
There had been no charges pressed, but the incident had done what he'd planned for it to achieve; his placement ended as soon as they could possibly find another home for him, and his previous social worker had disappeared into the wind. All too happy to wash her hands of a teenager more troubled than his worth.
Kazuha had appeared yesterday informing him of the next foster home that he'd be shipped off to. She'd given him an entire day deadline to gather his belongings - into the two meagre bin bags in the car with them now. Then she'd appeared in the evening to ship him the hour-long journey across the country.
Kazuha seems much more no-nonsense than the previous woman, who Nicholas is only a little ashamed to say he never learned the name of.
This is what being deemed 'higher risk' has gotten him. It will have been considered in the placement as well. Idly, Nicholas wonders whether there will be bars across the bedroom windows now that he has a history of using them to escape.
"I know you're not happy about this," Kazuha tells him. "But I'm not sure there is an outcome here that you'd be happy with. As long as you're in the care of the state, you have to stay in care."
Nicholas mutters, "Until I'm eighteen and I escape. Or if I disappear before then."
Kazuha glances across the car to meet his eyes in the rearview mirror. She must have heard every word and yet she doesn't visibly react more than raising a single eyebrow.
"What? It's true."
She taps her nails against the wheel again. They really do look expensive. "There will be no disappearing on my watch, Mr. Wang. I'd like to say that there'll be no incidents of a criminal nature either."
Nicholas hums. There's no real way that she can stop him, even if the thought of having to break the law again rests heavily on his chest. He'd only risked it last time as a last resort, ninety percent sure that the nice old couple at the corner store wouldn't press charges. He knows he probably wouldn't be as lucky the next time.
He doesn't want to be a criminal. He didn't need the warnings about what happens to the kids in the system once no family wants to take them in any more. He knows about the detention centres and the places for kids that have acted out just a little too much.
But... he also couldn't stay there. He wouldn't have lasted another month. And he doesn't regret it at all.
The car rolls to a stop. Nicholas pointedly keeps staring at his bin bags. He can already tell that the houses on the road look large and like they must come from decent amounts of money. The hour of the trip has passed way too fast, and the thought of taking in the soon-to-be familiar surroundings just makes him uncomfortable.
"I'm going to be real with you," Kazuha says. Her voice is lower now she doesn't need to speak over the sound of the engine. She hasn't moved to unlock the doors yet; her hands still haven't left the wheel. "Your last social worker didn't listen, and that's what's gotten us into the mess. There's no taking back that high risk marker on your profile now. Which is why I'm going to talk to you like you're a human, not just another case."
It's enough to get Nicholas' interest, even if he doesn't want to show it.
"There are significantly fewer placements for you now," Kazuha tells him, "But it's also less than two months before you turn seventeen. By the sounds of it, I don't need to tell you how long that means it is before you can 'escape' by aging out of the system."
It's fourteen months. Less than, by a week or so.
Kazuha continues, "I don't know why you don't like staying in one place for too long and I'm not going to force you to tell me. I'm also not going to just ignore it. Instead, I'd like to offer you a deal."
He lifts his head without really realising it, caught off guard by the bluntness of her tone. "A deal?"
"I can make sure you never stay in one place for more than four months. That's three months to decide whether you like it or not, and then a month for me to find a placement that's willing to take you on."
What is she trying to say? Four months is still far longer than Nicholas would like, but he hates to admit she has a point with his... current lack of options. He's older now, and a labelled trouble-maker. Capacities and extenuating circumstances means that they can't arrange anything ahead of time. In some ways, this sounds like the best he could have hoped for in his situation. He's not naive enough to deny reality.
But some other part of him wants to pull back in distrust. Where's Kazuha's benefit in all of this? What's she gaining? "And how do I know you'll stick to this? What are you getting out of it."
"In exchange for the four month deadline," she tells him in the detached sort of way that means this is exactly thought out, "I don't want you making any desperate plays to get moved on. I don't want you to think that breaking the law is the only way you're going to be listened to. Or worse, that you decide to disappear . If you stay at the placements I get you, I can keep you moving. That's the deal."
Nicholas' mouth is dry. He still wants to think that she's lying but... what would lying about this get her? He'd be able to call her bullshit out after four months - and even then she'd only be as bad as his previous social worker. And he'd been able to handle her just fine.
Something in the bluntness of her tone also sticks in his mind. It doesn't sound like she's making shit up to get him inside. Her words aren't covered in the same flowery fake-understanding that he's been forced to listen to a million times. She's talking to him like an actual person for once.
"Deal," he says before he can talk himself out of it, or before she can think better and retract the offer.
Kazuha just nods at him. There's the hint of a satisfied smile on her lips, but her eyes are completely serious. She unlocks the doors and just like that Nicholas is standing on the sidewalk with his two black bin bags next to him, staring up at the house that's soon to be his new home.
"This is it?"
"This is it," she says. She holds a hand out to be given one of the bags but Nicholas twists his fingers into the thin plastic and doesn't move to acknowledge it. Instead of pressing the issue, Kazuha smooths out her skirt instead and then heads up the drive to ring the doorbell.
The house fits in with every other building on the street. That is to say it's large and fairly grand, with a well-groomed garden fitted with perfectly blooming flowers and warm light spilling from the windows. There are three floors. Nicholas cranes his neck to stare up and almost misses movement in one of the windows, the pale ghost of a small face staring out at him.
He's not a fan of that. He doesn't want to be gawked at the moment he steps through the door, like he's some kind of new animal on display at the zoo. He twists his hands in the bin bags again until something hard presses up against his knuckles. Then he steps forwards and joins Kazuha at the door.
He's only just settling into waiting when the door opens. Nicholas is immediately greeted with a view of what looks more like a seating area than a hallway - large soft couches immediately to the left and then a staircase leading to the upper floors. A couple of closed doors lead to more rooms on the right, and the end of the entrance room immediately opens into a space with a long kitchen island.
The presence of children stains the walls. There's a pile of shoes pretty much bleeding out into the view from the porch, despite some obvious attempt to clean them up. A double row of hooks displays at least eight coats, there are some abandoned toy trucks on the seat of the nearest couch, and framed 'artwork' graces almost every flat surface Nicholas can see.
It's not as sterile as some of the homes he's stayed at before, which is a good initial sign if he really is going to have to stay here for four months. In fact it's definitely on the messier side of all the placements he's had, but there's a strange amount of organisation to the strewn toys and abandoned clothes.
"Sorry about the mess," one of the men who'd opened the door says, and Nicholas realises that he'd been so caught up in casing out the inside of the house that he hadn't even glanced at his new foster 'parents'. "Wednesday is after-school club day, so we didn't have time to tidy up."
He's tall. Really tall, if Nicholas is being honest, with dark hair that reaches his ears and falls across his forehead like he'd perfectly planned on the single lock in the middle. He must be around fourty or so, but he's got the kind of face that makes him look younger; all dark eyes and cheeks.
The other man is clearly waiting to speak, letting Nicholas process slightly more before he opens his mouth. He's shorter but not by too much, and even though he's wearing a shirt, it doesn't do much to obscure the fact that his arms are defined with muscle. There's a pair of glasses on his face and his gaze is intense but not unkind.
He nods at Nicholas when he notices him looking. "Welcome. It's nice to meet you."
And-
The attempt at Nicholas' native language honestly takes a moment to process. He isn't expecting it and the tones aren't quite right, and it doesn't sound all that much accurate if he's being critical, but-
It's the first time someone's spoken it to him in. Well, a long time.
The man clearly isn't fluent. He'd made all the tonal mistakes of a complete beginner and his words had been slow - but unfaltering enough for Nicholas to know they were practiced. Had- had he learnt just for Nicholas? His mind is overwhelmed enough that he comes up blank when he tries to search for alternate explanations. It's another few seconds after that until he realises there probably isn't an alternate explanation.
He's not sure how to feel about it.
They've read his file. Of course they've read his file, they'd probably had multiple conversations with Kazuha before Nicholas' journey tonight ever began. He knows that he's far from the first kid they've taken on, and that it's supposed to be required that they at least know the basics about him before accepting his placement.
That doesn't make it feel any less... violating.
If they have read his file, they know pretty much his entire life story. Written out by a stranger and read by people he's never met before - everything that Nicholas would rather keep tucked tight against his chest, just on display for anyone to take. No one asks the foster kid's permission to share their secrets, of course.
His stomach curls at the invasion at the same time his brain reels from the attempt at a welcoming. He searches the man's face for some hint at his play - some sort of smugness perhaps, at being seen taking in the poor foreigner foster kid - only to come up blank.
"Please, come in," the man says after a beat of silence. He steps back and allows Kazuha to enter the house, Nicholas behind her.
They're led towards the same kitchen island that he'd spotted before. It's even longer than he'd realised from the doorway, and the four of them taking seats still leaves another six empty. Kazuha crosses her legs neatly as she settles into position. Nicholas takes the seat closest to the end of the island, dropping his bags of belongings onto the floor where they can rest against his legs.
"Thank you," Kazuha says. Then she gestures next to her, "This is Nicholas Wang, your newest placement. I understand that you have read all the material I provided you beforehand? Nicholas, this is Yudai," she nods to the taller man, "And Fuma," then to the shorter one.
"It's nice to meet you," Yudai says, looking at Nicholas. Nicholas doesn't say it back; just shrinks into the seat like he wants to disappear.
"We've read through it," Fuma tells Kazuha as Nicholas doesn't look up from the faux-granite countertop. "It all looks to be in order. We discussed everything else over the phone, I think. Unless there's anything else you want to bring up?"
Kazuha's eyes slide to Nicholas. For a moment he thinks that she's going to bring up their deal, and the thought sends a spark of betrayal through his chest. He's relieved when she only shakes her head. "There's nothing. Trust me, I wouldn't have sought out this placement if I didn't think you'd be able to handle it. Or if I thought you'd be sitting here without having come prepared."
They all laugh at that. Nicholas thinks he's found part of the granite grain that looks like a spiral. He traces it back and forth with his eyes like it's the most interesting thing he's seen all day.
"It's been a long day for everyone," Kazuha is saying when he tunes back into the conversation. The adults have all gotten to their feet without him noticing - she must be leaving. "I'll be back to check-in within two weeks, if you'd like to provide a couple of times that work for you. Otherwise - I've got quite a drive home to get to."
"We'll get right to it," Yudai says as he leads her to the doorway. In the time it takes Nicholas to shakily get to his feet as well, gathering the bin bags back into his hands, the door is closing with a click.
He's suddenly struck with the thought that he should have paid attention to what she'd been telling him in the car, instead of refusing to listen. He can vaguely remember that Yudai and Fuma have... six other kids? That makes sense, considering the number of shoes and coats, and toys on the floor.
He's not sure if she told him anything else about them, like ages and names. It doesn't matter too much - he'll find out soon anyway, no matter whether he wants to listen this time or not. And then after the four months are up, he won't have to think about them ever again. This isn't his first placement to have more siblings than he'd ever like. By the time he's 18, he doubts he'll remember the name of any one of them.
"Nicholas," Fuma says. "Are you hungry? We've put some supplies in your room for you, including some packaged snacks, but if you'd like a proper meal just let me know."
"We didn't let the babies help with dinner," Yudai calls from the other end of the room, now making his way back from the hallway. "Not everyone appreciates a meal cooked with the 'helping hand' of a five year old. But we can reheat a burger if you'd like-"
Nicholas is already shaking his head. "No thanks. I'm not hungry. I just would like to get to bed. Please."
It's 8PM. It's late in May, meaning that the world outside the large kitchen windows has darkened with the fall of night, and Nicholas actually shouldn't be all that tired. All he's done today is sit in his now ex-room and then in Kazuha's car. But part of his body wants nothing but to crash onto his new mattress in silence. Gather his thoughts, get his precious two bags out of the danger-zone of public space, and just stare at the ceiling for a bit.
It's a lot. It doesn't get any easier with how many times he's gone through the same steps. In fact, the weight on his shoulders just seems to get heavier with every new house he's supposed to call his home.
Yudai's gaze softens. "Of course. If you don't have any questions, then straight to bed is fine."
They're both talking like they're walking on eggshells. Like Nicholas is about to explode the moment that they say the wrong thing, or that he's something fragile about to shatter at any moment. Yudai takes the lead up the stairs and Fuma trails behind him. They both keep sending him looks - like he can't see.
Even if it's just supposed to be patience. Even if there is nothing in their eyes but understanding and support, it makes Nicholas' skin crawl. He hates this. He hates the thought that they pity him, because they've read his file and they know what he's been through, and he hates the thought that they can act like they care.
These aren't even their real personalities. This is just the mask they wear when talking to him, like the hint of something real will send him bolting. He can tell it from the stupid slow way they're talking.
Four months. He hadn't realised when he'd taken the deal that he'd be clinging to it quite so desperately so soon.
"Kazuha told you about this house," Fuma says, his voice low behind Nicholas. "We have six kids here already. One is adopted, and the others are - well, without needing to get into the details - long-term placements. They're a range of ages, but the youngest is five and the oldest is around your age."
They reach the landing on the first floor. Most of the doors are closed - except for one, where the same pale face he'd probably seen in the window peers out from a darkened crack.
If Yudai and Fuma see it, they ignore the kid. Instead they start up the next flight of stairs and Nicholas follows them, unable to do much more.
"Long-term placement," he scoffs under his breath, and when Yudai turns like he's about to ask what he said, Nicholas raises an eyebrow. "I thought this was a place for kids that no one else wanted to take. Are you really that desperate to pretend like you're making the world a better place that you accept any stray that crosses your path?"
There's a beat of silence. They've reached the second floor landing now and Yudai grips the landing bannister. It takes a moment for Nicholas to realise that his pale-fingered grip isn't because of anger. He's... trying not to laugh.
"I would tell you not to say that in front of the others," Fuma says, making his way out in front to stand next to a door. He's grinning. "But they've heard it all before. And I don't think any one of them would take a comment like that without firing one right back."
"They call it the Last Chance Hotel ," Yudai says.
Nicholas can feel his face heating up slightly, so he bites his lip until the confusion at the situation softens under the pain. He wants to say something in response but his mind comes back empty with a translation that won't end up falling flat. He is tired, he realises. More so than he'd realised.
"This is your room," Yudai says. "We don't have locks, but if the door is closed then no one will enter without your permission. The bathroom is-" he gestures to a room on their left, "Here. That does lock. Obviously."
"Right," Nicholas mutters.
He backs up until he's standing in the doorframe. It feels good to let go of the bin bags, even if that's just so he can put a hand on the doorknob and pull it slightly closed already. It's the most obvious hint he can give without being rude - and contrary to popular belief, he's not actually out to get on their bad sides immediately.
"Breakfast is any time from 7:30 to 8:30, but anyone will show you to the cereal and milk if you ask. Goodnight."
Judging by how readily they seem to have gone along with his previous requests, Nicholas isn't surprised with how easily they let the conversation end. He nods once and then he closes the door, and then he steps back like the weight of the world is falling from his shoulders.
One of the bin bags has already slumped against the wall.
The room isn't huge, but there's enough space for a window, a desk with a set of shelves above it, and a wardrobe. The bed itself is one of those funnily wide ones, just slightly larger than a normal single, and there's even more storage space visible from the pull-out drawer below. There's a small selection of snacks and two plastic water bottles on the desk.
It's soulless.
Perfectly bland and empty. There are probably blu-tack marks on the wall if he looks closer, but even the sheets to the bed are pale white, freshly washed with the generic scent of detergent greeting him as he sits down.
It's clean, at least. It's probably one of the nicer bedrooms he's been given, even with the complete lack of personality. Something about that just ends up sitting uncomfortably with him though.
It doesn't matter what he does here. In four months time, it'll be brought back to exactly this clean and stripped-back state. Any evidence he ever existed in this space will be bleached out and removed. He doesn't bother unpacking even as the second bin bag ends up slumped against the first. At least the mattress is soft when he flops back against it.
He's not sure how long he lies there, staring at the ceiling. It's a slightly different shade to his old room, but if he half-closes his eyes, he could be at any one of the foster homes he's been shuffled through.
A noise at the door gets his attention.
He only just has enough time to tilt his head in that direction before the handle turns and a small face appears in the shadows. No one will enter without your permission if the door is closed - that had been a nice sentiment, but Nicholas can't say he isn't surprised it's a lie. Although not bothering to keep up the facade for an entire night must be a new low, and looking closer...
The face is small because it's a kid. A wide-eyed kid whispering to someone behind him. He can't be more than five years old, with badly cut bangs falling into his eyes and his fingers gripping the door. His voice is low enough that Nicholas can't hear what he's saying, but his expression shows his insistence.
Then he falls forwards. His grip on the wall slips and the door swings open to reveal- a second child falling on top of the first and a third just behind them, pink-cheeked and tiny. The second and third boys look similar in age and stature, maybe a year or so older than the first kid. Nicholas had only spotted one child watching him from the shadows of the house, but now he's beginning to suspect that there'd been three all along.
The second boy squeaks, trying to pick himself up and only ending up in a ridiculous pin-wheeling of his arms, close to bringing down the third child into the mess.
"Stop-" the first boy, the youngest out of all of them, says, narrowly shuffling forward to miss the second boy's flailing limbs, and finally letting the third one step into the room.
They close the door behind them with an almost audible relief. Like this is some secret mission that they've narrowly escaped being caught on - and like they've completely forgotten that the person they were presumably trying to sneak in to visit, has been there all along.
Nicholas raises an eyebrow and sits up. He eyes how close they are to his abandoned bin bags warily.
In silence, the three boys pick themselves up. The youngest takes the lead, eyes roaming the room judgingly, whilst the other two fall into place behind him. They're clutching hands, Nicholas realises, as he distantly notes that they're also wearing matching outfits. Twins, perhaps.
"Oh," the first boy says. "It looks the same. You haven't done anythin' yet."
"I only just got here." Nicholas says.
The first boy sniffs. The two boys behind him stare silently. Their hair has been completely messed up from the incident trying to enter the room, and now several tufts on all three of their heads stand up at odd angles. None of them have realised.
"You're Nicholas," the boy says, like he's making a statement.
"I might be. Maybe I don't give out my name to people who I don't know."
The boy frowns and then nods very seriously. "That's smart. You shouldn't talk to strangers. But I'm not a stranger, since I live here and now you live here as well. I'm Maki and I'm five. This is Taki 'n' Rua, and they're seven. They won't talk to you since they don't know you yet. They're shy. But I'm not shy, which is why I'm doin' all the talking."
"I can see that," Nicholas says dryly. Then, after a pause, he realises that he's supposed to introduce himself as well. "I'm Nicholas. I'm sixteen."
"Why haven't you unpacked?" Maki asks. He points a finger towards the bags on the floor. "Is this your stuff? Why's it in bags? There's a shelf there, that's where I keep all my stuff."
Just like that, Nicholas feels the fight drain from his body. "I'm not going to be here long."
Maki wrinkles his nose. "Yeah but if everything is in a bag, how are you going to find anything? Is two bags all you have? I guessss.. maybe that wouldn't be too tricky then."
There's no cruelty in his words but something in Nicholas' throat catches painfully anyway. He has to ignore the sharp bleeding pain in his chest. It's not the worst he's ever felt. That doesn't mean it doesn't still ache though, and Nicholas-
He'd be happy to snap back at Yudai and Fuma. But he has to remind himself that Maki is just a kid who clearly doesn't mean anything by it. All three of them are dressed in oversized fuzzy pyjamas that fall loose off their hands and feet. Taki still has the lines of a blanket pressed into one full cheek. These are the details he focuses on as he bites back the beginnings of something cruel.
"You're not supposed to be in here, are you?"
Maki folds his arms. "Yeah but you won't tell on us. Unless... you're a snitch."
His eyes narrow. Nicholas almost laughs despite himself, putting his hands up in mock-surrender. "I'm not a snitch."
Maki nods, a sharp decisive motion that seems too grown-up for his tiny body. "Okay. I'm trusting you, then." He opens his mouth to say something else but a yawn interrupts the first syllable before Nicholas can make out a single word. Behind him, Rua also yawns, and then Taki - and then there's a gaggle of suddenly sleepy children in the middle of Nicholas' room.
"We can discuss this further at breakfast," Nicholas suggests, jumping on the opportunity to encourage them out and away.
It looks like they're fighting the urge to sleep already, but Maki turns around and the three kids tuck their heads together to whisper some sort of quiet discussion. Nicholas waits patiently and after a few moments, Maki turns back around.
"That seems-" another whisper, Rua leaning forwards to cup his hand around Maki's ear and tell him something, "... ad-quate. Good night!"
As their seemingly elected leader, Nicholas isn't surprised when Maki is the one to turn around and grab at the door handle. He's halfway through his mouth forming the silent syllables of a good night in response when he realises the twins are still looking at him. They do something with their hands - clearly purposeful with the way they both execute the same motion perfectly - and then follow Maki to disappear into the hallway.
A few seconds pass, and then a small hand appears to tug the door closed like an afterthought.
Nicholas is left alone in his room. The bed doesn't feel nearly as soft when he lies back onto it this time. Staring distantly at the ceiling doesn't completely erase the churning in his stomach. Without realising, he finds his gaze slipping to watch the door.
Four months.
That's all he has to survive. He's done longer in worse places, and he'd come out of it stronger than ever. It's a third of a year - if he counts the months up, he'll be out before the beginning of October. That's something solid he can cling to. A deadline he can pin the ghost of fluttering hope against.
Four months, and then he's out of here.