Ezra
Exhaustion was easy to blame.
Fatigue came with life, and it was a decent reason when faced with a pounding headache and blurred vision. It was an acceptable excuse for a less than enthusiastic participation and a desperate need for a quiet night.
But just because one was bone-tired and weak kneed, it didn't mean that one could justifiably become an asshole.
Ezra wasn't exactly the lord and saviour of bad mood from stress and exhaustion. Oh, he was a mean snappy bitch when he was sleep deprived and lacking in his usual double shot of espresso. Sometimes, he'd push it to five which would result in a massive dump. But that didn't mean that he would forget where he shouldn't step, and where he shouldn't push even when intoxicated and mind-fucked.
They'd pushed too far, had torn out her buttons instead of prodding them gently like the husbands they strived to be.
"Oh, you motherfuckers," his words seared the air, a dangerous thin voice that coiled skyward.
He was taking a shit when they'd fought. But the door was as thin as his hater's bare list of accomplishments, and he'd heard everything crystal clear—mid-diarrhoea with a palm to his face and a hand to his stomach. Mild food poisoning from something he'd ate.
Ezra would admit that he hadn't been there to see their sobbing daughter in the basinet, red faced and absolutely pitiful with her little breathy hiccups of seeming neglect. She was a master at giving teary faces of languish and Ezra supposed it could be difficult not to react negatively from her innocence.
But he knew her, they all did, and she was famous for her never ending wails.
God, a little snap of anger was alright when faced with a situation as confusing as this one. No one could be a goody two shoes even when grown and suddenly perfect role model for their child. But that didn't mean that they could push that far. He'd snapped out a yell for them to shut up and wait but they clearly couldn't hear him.
Ezra would have arrived just in time if it weren't for the need to clean his ass, which he did with a bidet and a slap of the wad of tissue upon his behind. He would allow a streak of shit on his pristine white undies if he knew how much she was hurting.
He was far too late when he exited, empty bowelled and absolutely flabbergasted to the heartbroken expression of the love of their lives. A title that the rest were clearly exploiting and testing the limits.
She was clearly not well—a smudge of purple dashed under her eyes, a few pounds thinner since they'd last seen her and sporting a pallor that rivalled a zombie. There was no colour on her skin, none of that beautiful peach that he once relished and enjoyed upon his lips; lacking in the plump squishy flesh that he'd once loved to grope.
But her eyes had been swollen and violently red, trembled bottom lip and the swell of crystal droplets upon feathery lashes.
She was trying, he knew how hard she tried. She tried her best to do everything properly. But no one could try in an environment filled with lashing critique and overflowing judgement. And there was no need for her to have to try so hard if it meant sacrificing all of her happiness.
The baby didn't care if it drank formula or human milk. The baby only wanted to be comfortable. That was a fact that the rest didn't seem to agree with. Ezra reckoned it was the competitive spirit, or perhaps bottles of unsolved parental trauma poured into a single child.
The boys turned to him, shock blooming on their faces. It was a lightning strike of realisation, a horrified streak of green and then bloodless white. But Ezra stomped past, too angry to sugar coat the situation, and as mad as a thousand angry mother ducks, grabbing coats and snatching keys.
He'd never hated them more, but he did now. Each now sported their own red flag that they seemed to raise high over their heads for the eyes of their bleeding soulmate. And Ezra knew deep down if they continued down this path it would be one torn with tears and blood.
And he'd had enough of their relationship drama.
"For fuck's sake," the hiss from his lips was toxic, "listen to yourselves, goddamn it—"
Rumiko clearly didn't appreciate his words because she started to scream, deathly wails escalating into a pitch that rivalled Hikaru's highest note. If they weren't sure she would grow to look like JieMi's twin sister, he'd expect her to be Hikaru's. The squalled cries of newborn to the topic of discussion was a strangely fitting comparison.
"Ezra—" Hikaru started to speak, a bumbled tone filled with the chill of his mistakes, and Ezra's face grew darker.
"Don't."
Ezra's eyes tore through him; a clucked tongue and an angry exhale sent them quivering into stunned silence. Or at least what quiet they could achieve with their daughter bawling in Oliver's frantically shaking arms. He paced and she screamed. Ezra's brows only knotted tighter with the bare crumbs of example that depicted exactly what Amber had faced for a week.
"If you've got time to lecture me about language, you better get your ass moving after her. You're the eldest one of us all, what is wrong with you?" Ezra was shaking as he pulled the door open, cold air wafting in like a slap to the face. Fuck it was cold, and his soulmate was out there with barely anything warm on.
That thought sent a shiver of regret through his soul.
"She wasn't with Ru—"
"The baby will survive a few damn minutes alone."
Ezra's voice was an unrelenting storm of crushed dreams and savage swords. The anger rose like a tidal wave and it swept him, his frustration rising with the rush of his blood and the ricochet of his thoughts that swam with anxiety.
"I was alone for most of my fucking childhood in a fucking box that my mother kept me in to stop her customers from hearing my screams. True neglect is very different from what Amber just did. And you know what?" He stabbed a finger against his chest, body shaking as he spoke. He stared at Hikaru so hard his pupils hurt. "I trust her."
His words were a bold red-lined streak in the air, words that did not settle easily upon their shoulders. The pause that followed was thick with guilt and dripping with self-absorbed horror.
He watched as they exchanged glances of final realisation. The confusion that spiked and the sudden sharp swerve of events had the exhaustion fleeing their once clouded minds. The truth of what they'd done now settled thick in their throats.
Sieon's voice was a trembled cry for justice. "We all know that she hasn't been herself, Ezra—"
What the fuck?
"She's not sleeping. Her nipples bleed so much whenever she feeds our child that they've grown calloused. She has to stand the sound of screaming 24/7. And she's alone by herself for days." Ezra listed it off, his fingers twitching to give Sieon a middle finger but he abstained only because that emotion was fuelled purely by emotion. "Now tell me, who the fuck can stay sane in that situation?"
"People come to help her at night, and to clean. We hired them to." Sieon whispered.
"Barely," Ezra swept a lock from his hair, animated and testy as he moved, "and they fucking hate the job which says a lot about the situation because they want to quit every fucking time they start."
"We know it's hard, we do," JieMi whispered, eyes darting to his. "And it's our fault for not being able to give her more help, but she's our daughter, our daughter. And I can't, I can't have a repeat of-of..." His pupils moved, glancing down shaky and hesitant. Accusatory.
It was those eyes that made anger burn in Ezra's belly, hot and heavy for Amber. He could see it in JieMi's gaze that he was intent on projecting his trauma upon their soulmate, burning her with the toxicity of his own bleeding heart. He could see that he was comparing her with his ex, and it was that gaze that told Ezra what had fully broken Amber's heart.
If JieMi was comparing the situation to the one destined for jailtime, then knowing his soulmate she would be to.
"I am going to kill you," Ezra growled, fists clenched and body shaking, "how dare you—"
"Ezra, stop." Hikaru stepped forth, lips trembling. "You know what she told me." His words seemed to steel his resolve, an ultimatum that explained everything. And Ezra hated how lacking he was in empathy.
"She trusted you," Ezra snarled, teeth snapped as his eyes flickered upon the sorry excuse of a man. Venom dripped from his tongue. "She trusted you with normal fucking emotions that deserve to be validated and respected, not used against her like a fucking ping pong ball."
"She doesn't like our baby—"
"Who would when she's screaming like that? Who would?" The gasping shrieks from their baby was a point easily proven. "She's not an easy child. It is normal, completely normal for anyone to feel like fucking shit caring for a baby as colic and as disagreeable as our Rumiko."
"How can you say that? How can you hate her? Our child doesn't understand—"
"The same way I can hate you, you fucking shit face—"
The battle, not yelled but spoken in harsh tones due to the baby that would only cry louder if startled, was disrupted by a shaking MinJae. "It's postnatal depression, isn't it? She's sick...We should help her."
"We will always help her," Ezra decided to say, breathing hard for a moment of regroup.
"I'm worried that she might hurt our baby," Hikaru murmured instead, fanning the flames of righteousness with all the wrong choice of words, "we should get her to go to a psychiatrist tomorrow."
Ezra's mind snapped, body moved to slam a heavy hand on Hikaru's shoulder, pushing him hard against the wall. Not hard enough to hurt but enough to shake him from his priorities. And enough perhaps, to bruise.
Ezra was breathing hard when he glared at the older man, his fingers tightening upon the collar of his shirt, tugged down so tight the fabric was inches from snapping and taughtened at his throat. In response, Hikaru scrambled, a tussled shake as he inched back against the wall to ease the pressure on his throat.
A glare at Oliver had him scrambling off with the baby in his arms to the bedroom. He waited until the cries grew muffled from behind hard wood before he turned to the asshole in his grip.
"Ezra, listen it's not what you think," Hikaru began to say, through squeaked words, "I would never force her to go unless she's a danger to herself and our daughter—"
"She's not a fucking insane animal that's lost her head. Her sole fucking purpose in life is not to be your fucking broodmare—"
"I didn't mean to say that I meant that—"
"No, you listen to me, all of you," he snarled, lips snapping as he spoke. His eyes swept the room, poised upon the people who'd let loose the harshest of words. "When Amber was dying in the hospital, bleeding from her fucking vagina who did we decide to save?"
"Why are you bringing this up? It never got to that point." Tears pricked in Hikaru's eyes. "I just meant—"
"WHO?" Ezra snarled. "OUR WIFE OR OUR BABY?"
"Our wife."
JieMi began to cry, a soft wail from the younger was the stressor that led to tearing eyes. Ezra tore away from Hikaru, allowing the older to sink to his knees, blown apart by the stress of the situation. He paced then, stomach still rippling with food poisoning.
"If you're going to fuck her mind up with this attitude, there is no damn way she will accept the ring we've wanted to put on her finger," he snarled at them as he walked back and forth, a marionette to the dance of his stress. There was so much to say but each minute that passed was another their soulmate spent in the cold and the darkness of her head.
"I'm sorry..." Hikaru whispered. "I was too insensitive. I placed Rumiko over Amber."
"Don't tell me that, for God's sake!" Ezra snapped. "I don't have time for this. The rest of you make the baby happy as fuck and clean the fucking house." He shrugged on his jacket wincing as a bout of pain stabbed him in the guts. He hissed, shaking it off. "Write fucking letters of apology before she gets back, I better see your bleeding hearts on the paper—"
"Wait, Ezra you stay, I'll go," Hikaru stopped him at the door. His lips were trembling as he glanced at him, and Ezra knew then that he'd hit him so hard with his words he was barely standing on his own two feet. "Please."
"I'll go with him," Casper said, jacket pulled on. "You're sick, you can stay, we understand what needs to be said."
Ezra blew out a breath, collapsing on the couch as he handed them her coat. "You've got to bring her back."
"We will."
*
Amber
She tried to seek help.
It was such a strange thing to say, to call what she'd attempted to find 'help'. Truly, she only wanted to seek likeminded individuals with the same experience who felt just as lost and just as helpless as she did.
They were women of all ages in the group; they were all significantly older than her and much surer of themselves, dignified, experienced. That first impression should have keyed her in to the truth. But there she'd hope for crude words and complaints, of realistic angry rage about diapers, breastfeeding and crying. She'd yearned for understanding, for companionship for words like:
I don't produce enough breastmilk. I don't know why the world wants me to do all natural, but I just have to feed my baby formula milk!
Or.
She won't stop crying at night, it drives me crazy!
And.
It's strange that my soulmates take the side of their mothers when it comes to this I get so frustrated when they do that.
Maybe even.
I just want to slap her when she just won't stop fussing.
And in response she wanted things like : that's normal love, it's so hard for me that I yell at her too sometimes. But I try not to. I won't hurt her just because of my feelings. Words like: me too, and you go girl! Not the horror that flickered over middle aged faces and the scrunch of judgemental noses.
She saw in their eyes their version of her, the world's version of her . Young of face, child born out of wedlock and thrust too soon into the world of raising a family. They saw a girl who didn't have a life that met her expectations; one that couldn't survive in the unknown; one that had relished the wealth of her older soulmates and now struggled to pay it back in the way all mothers seemed to do.
A mother that didn't expect her daughter; a mother that didn't appreciate her daughter; a mother that didn't like her daughter. A mother that didn't understand the pain and joy of the entire experience from insemination to birth. A mother that had the audacity to complain about things others sold their soul to achieve.
She was another one of those dysfunctional strange types that always seemed to be lying with a body filled with privilege whenever she explained her cryptic pregnancy and how utterly surprising it was to have Rumiko.
No one believed her.
A failure that would hurt her daughter.
The thought sent a shard of pain through her heart which she dug down with sharp nails. The tears that flowed were brushed away by a wind that was not kind. She didn't wander far, not really interested in the act of running but more for the cold freedom of the outside world.
She was tired of the circling thoughts, of the curses that crossed her mind and seemed to flicker from the eyes of her soulmates. She was so damn tired of the selfpity that always seemed to return.
Her lips curled.
How strange that it was that just months ago they were all deeply enraptured in love and sex, with so much mind blowing fucking that she never wanted more physical touch. They didn't touch her anymore, just brief hugs that did nothing for her soul and she found her body yearning for more. She crossed her legs and sighed, it seemed that with motherhood they'd decided that it was time for celibacy.
Her mind was blank when she sat down upon a curb. It felt instinctual for her arms to gather her body as she stared into the distance. A poor substitute of what should be the arms of her lovers.
The coldness didn't seem to penetrate her skin for she felt strangled in a room, sandwiched between two walls that held her tight. Knowing that she was a bad mother was one thing, but having it told to her by the people she loved with accusatory words that stabbed her heart was a different kind of pain.
A pain that pulsed and unfurled.
She swept her arms closer to her body, bones and flesh protecting her heart; tears soaked her skin, hot rivulets that were molten down her arms and vanished before they could leave tracks upon her skin.
The shouts of her name came faster than she expected and she didn't look up when the sound of pattering feet grew close. The tears that flowed came too fast for her to stop them, and she didn't want to see her break; it was more reason for them to question her sanity.
"Amber..." she noted the voice immediately, Hikaru's sweet creamy tones. Her face scrunched as she tried to suck back the tears that flowed from her eyes. And she tried desperately to keep the shivering inhale from revealing itself through the movement of her shoulders.
"I'm fine," she repeated, biting back the quivering dewy wetness that came with tears. "Go home. I'll be back soon."
There was the crunch of a knelt knee and a coat wrapped over her shoulders, it was warmer than expected and heavier than it should be. Her fingers touched two coats and the traces of warm bodies. Their coats, her teeth bit down upon lips. It was undeniable that they loved her but it was so easy to forget now.
"Baby..." Casper's voice trailed and a hand was placed on her shoulder. A nickname none had used on her for ages, as if with the baby's arrival she wasn't worthy of the love. She understood their hesitance, but still the lack of use was a change that she hadn't been ready to undergo.
She inhaled and exhaled knowing that they would wait for her in the cold without coats on if she continued to be this way. And one part of her wanted to stay so that they'd wallow in their own thoughts of depressive self-hatred and pity. But she pulled herself together, wiping the tears quickly from her face.
Emotions could be allowed to run free but choice made her a bigger person.
The smile that revealed itself from behind the concealment of her arms was bright and sunny, but she couldn't meet their eyes as she stood, brushing the leaves from her behind. She took longer just to gather herself with slow steady breaths and a mind that distanced into the future. It was easier when she thought about what she had to do.
"Is Ezra okay?" she asked, lips moving as she walked forward, not looking. "I noticed he wasn't with you."
"Momo, please," Hikaru's hand caught her wrist, pulling her close and she was momentarily reminded of their meeting for once again his eyes were a galaxy of stars, dripping with tears that wallowed at the edges. "Let's talk."
"About what?" she asked, lips curled. Her nose burned, a sour prick that had her blinking rapidly. And her heart ached. She decided to allow them both a form of respite, a simple action would suffice. "Just hold me."
He complied, arms wrapped around her, big and warm. They circled her and held her close, so close that it felt as if he carried her soul, just as Casper stroked her hand and kissed her hair. She sighed wanting nothing more than to stay in their embrace in the cold. But she moved from his grasp and turned to go home only for them to stop her again, this time with hands on her shoulder.
"Talk to us please," Casper said hesitant and careful. Her left eye twitched as she stared at them both, so worried and so concerned as if they stood on a thin line between life and death. Her head tilted.
"About what?"
"Your feelings, your thoughts?" Hikaru egged, nodding quickly then broke a little. "Are you mad at me?"
"Why?"
The flinch that came from him, pink cheek and wide-eyed was satisfying to watch. Even Casper audibly gulped at her words, his eyes shifting about. She knew she could make them grovel if she wanted to. She pursed her lips together, feet tapping.
"You really want to do this?" Her eyes flickered to them. "I know you're tired."
"Not as tired as you," Casper assured, "our reaction was uncalled for. I'm sorry."
"Wouldn't sleeping first help?"
"Not if it means giving us all a chance to forget about it," Hikaru answered. "We talk about it now before bed."
"Fine," her snort came reflexively, her words grew sharper. "You know what? I feel like I'm in a competition and I'm losing."
"W-what competition?" Hikaru asked, holding her hand as if it were his lifeline.
"Me versus all of you. The goal is Rumiko's happiness. And I'm always losing because nothing I do is enough, but everything that you do is more than enough. Because dads aren't meant to care for kids and moms are, but I'm going off tangent." She crossed her arms. "You're right I'm a shit mom." Her nose pricked at those words and she kicked at the stone on the road, too worked up not to fidget.
"Baby, you're not," Casper took her hand. "You know we said it all wrong—"
"And maybe, what all of you told me was fueled by a bad mood, sure. But you're right. I get mad when she doesn't stop crying, I get so damn frustrated when nothing I do works. And you know what sucks?" Her bottom lip quivered as she spoke, hands balled into fists on his clothes. "I've never seen her smile with me."
"You know she's not at the age—"
"She smiles with you! All of you! You know how fuck up that is? She's angry even when I feed her. She doesn't even like me, but fuck fine- I can deal with that. So yeah, I'm frustrated as fuck and I think about slapping her—"
She paused, breathing hard through tears that began to swim in her eyes. She waited for their horror, for their terrified inhale, but nothing came only the blowing wind. And she was too much of a pussy to look at their eyes and see the reflection of the monster she'd become, and so she continued.
"Is that so goddamn wrong? I won't act on it, I'll never act on it. But I get flashes of just impossible violence. And I know it's fucked up everyone tells me that. And I'm so frustrated that I take her to the doctor, and you know what he says?"
She pressed her forehead to Hikaru's chest, closing her eyes as she spoke.
"That I'm normal."
She blinked and the tears fell from her eyes, slipping down cheeks.
"That it's normal to feel that way, that I've reached my breaking point and it's okay if I leave her alone and collect myself before I do something stupid. So I do! I fucking leave her alone and sit by myself."
"Fuck, I'm so sorry baby—" Hikaru began to say, but she interrupted him.
"And I didn't understand at first why all of you got mad at me, but you're right. In the first place, in the first place-" her breath was shaky when she inhaled and exhaled- "I didn't want her."
They were quiet as she spoke, so quiet that she could hear the wind rushing in her ears, screaming at her to correct herself. But there was no correcting, no sugarcoating the situation. Rumiko would always be her unplanned child.
"If I knew I would have aborted her. If it weren't for all of you, if I were alone and I didn't love you, I might have given her away to a family that is better. Because I'm not ready and I didn't feel ready at all." Her voice cracked as her heart burned with her words, pain rippling for her daughter. "I'm not the girl you think I am, I'm not always the damn bigger person. I'm weak as fuck even when I pretend I'm not." Her lips quivered. "I wish I could run away."
"God, baby..."
"And for the fucking icing on the cake, I had a fucking solution. Your grandmother wants her." She glanced up then to look Casper in the eye, staring straight into his soul. "She wants to raise Rumiko to be her perfect little aristocrat. I have no idea why, but she offered to give me everything to save all of you. I'd be able to control the media, we would live freely. And we could have another baby when I'm ready."
Casper seemed startled. "When did you—"
"She told me that on the day we went to your home."
"What—"
"I know she's fucked up, but it could be a fair trade knowing how hurt all of you were when your fans gave you a black ocean."
Their eyes widened, beautiful almond orbs and fox-like slits transformed into shivering weakness. A black ocean was the worst form of insult to all idols, and possibly some of the most demoralizing act, to be awkwardly unsupported in a place where they should be celebrated.
It was rejection in what once should be home.
"You knew?" Hikaru breathed.
"How could I not with it flooding Twitter? Fans refusing to turn on light sticks, refusing to cheer, no fucking support in a place that should be your concert. I know why they acted this way, it's because of me. Me and my bleeding vagina all over YouTube." She laughed. "They hated to see your soulmate. They hated how you're happy. They hated that I'm still alive. And that we have a baby that's still alive."
"No, darling, no," Casper was on his knees as he held her hands. "Never."
"It made sense for me to give up Rumiko. I struggled so hard wanting to and I could. I could. All of you would hate me, but you would forgive me if your grandmother created a good enough lie—And I know she's powerful enough to do something believable. So I thought about it. I just thought about it. But I couldn't. I couldn't call her." Her lips curled. "Because I'm her mother. I- I don't know how to explain this, I don't understand myself sometimes—"
"You love her." Hikaru whispered.
"I'm a foolish, terrible mother. I know that." Amber glanced up not seeing much in the kaleidoscope of tear stained colours, wishing terribly that her tears would stop falling, and her nose would stop dripping. "But I hated it more when everyone pointed it out."
"I'm sorry, I didn't know better." Hikaru whispered.
"Baby, you're amazing—"Casper began to say, no doubt feeling the stab of guilt but she stopped him.
"I don't want you to say that just because you feel obligated to." She bit her lips, praying that they would stop shaking. "I understand the feeling now of wanting to be everyone's ideal mother, but being shown and told clearly that I can't." She kicked another shower of stone, allowing her anger to pass through her legs. "I've never felt so weak and useless in my entire life."
She pressed her head on Casper's shoulder, not wanting to look at them both.
"It hurts me when she cries all the time even when all I want is for her to smile and laugh." Her heart broke at her own words, more tears flowing. "Everything I do isn't right, and it eats me up, everyone telling me what I do isn't right." She let out a dry sob, soft hiccups escaping her lips. "I feel so fucking sorry for Rumiko. I feel so damn sorry that she has me for her mother. I wish, I wish someone would understand."
Her voice broke, muffled tear-stained words turned wet with dripping languish.
"I wish all of you would love me again."
"Don't say that, please, "Hikaru began to speak, his eyes dripping with gold, "You've broken my heart a hundred times tonight, and I know for sure I've broken yours a thousand times more." Hikaru cried then, his beautiful lips trembled as he looked at her with eyes that saw everything. He pursed them and she noted the slip of tears that glistened on his lips, wet and full.
He was shaking when he continued, his arms holding her close as he caressed her hair. "I didn't understand you enough and assumed things. I'm so ashamed of myself. So ashamed that I don't know how to face you again."
The clasp of her wrist from Casper's large hands was just as heart breaking. "We pushed you to this point. We didn't see your pain, oh baby will you forgive us?"
He pulled her hands to his lips to kiss it, his face scrunched and rippling with his agony. "I've always loved you. We always do. You've been so strong and so good; we know you tried so hard. And trying, trying is enough. It's enough for us. We were inconsiderate during your struggle. She is our responsibility, ours and you took it on yourself. All of it, I'm so sorry for not being there."
"We all are," Hikaru agreed, wiping her eyes with his thumb.
"T-then why," she stammered out, her eyes round and wet and shimmering in the darkness. "Won't any of you touch me?"