An Orphan

It was as if a part of him had suddenly been ripped apart, shattering from the sight before him.

Past the front steps that led to the porch, the front door had opened, and out came a three-year old boy who wobbled like a penguin.

He was wearing several layers of clothes and a beanie with a scarf around his neck that flailed from his every move, dancing in the air as he stomped on the wooden porch in excitement.

"Mommy! Daddy! It's snowing!"

He turned to look behind him, addressing his parents who soon walked out from behind the door, coming into view.

On the left was his father… June's father. He had visibly aged since the last time he saw him. 

His dark hair was growing white, and his face appeared more wrinkly with stress. However, his smile hadn't faded. No, in truth, it was brighter than ever.

Meanwhile, on the right was June's mother. She was still as graceful as ever, her features mirroring his. 

The gray eyes, black hair, pale yet fair complexion, all of it. 

June was always told that he bore a striking resemblance to her, and one he himself believed to be true. Seeing her now, after so long, felt like he was really seeing another part of him.

Unconsciously, June placed his hand on his heart, feeling its loud thumping.

The boy walking out was already shocking enough, but he also noticed his mother holding something — no, someone.

A baby was cradled in her arms as she gently swayed back and forth, smiling.

'This is too much…'

June felt like a tall wave of emotion had come crashing down on him, drowning him under the pain and sorrow. 

He was truly a fool.

Not only had they abandoned him due to a debt… but they went on to have two more children, replacing the existence of June altogether.

A part of him had wished they still thought of him, but from the looks of it, they didn't.

It was as if he had become a lost chapter in the book of his own parents' lives. Like an archive of memories that had been long tucked away, never to be remembered again.

June was merely a lingering shadow now.

"June… I'm sorry, truly. I… didn't know."

Winston sounded disappointed in himself, placing his hand on June's shoulder.

Honestly, June wanted to blame Winston for what he was seeing, but that would just be unfair. 

Winston hadn't known, clearly.

And in the end, it was June who decided to go, no one else had dictated his actions.

What he was seeing now was his fault, and his fault alone. He should've known better than to hope for something so foolish.

What was he even thinking coming all the way over here anyway?

He was a curse bearer, someone who couldn't afford emotional attachment, or emotion in general. One of the many reasons why Dusk had chosen June was because he was an orphan, devoid of people who loved him, missed him, and cherished him.

Not only would that make the Critical Aspect and bearing the Heritage alone easier, but it would allow him a moment of respite before his death, leaving him without more regrets than necessary.

Yet, being here violated all of that.

With sadness, June watched his family enjoy the snow fall under the brilliant moonlight. 

His little brother — who likely didn't know June existed — marched around, reaching his hands out to grasp the snowflakes drifting in the air around him.

All while his parents watched in joy.

With deep breaths, June took it all in as best he could. It was all he could do.

"I'm sure they'd still wanna see their first child, wouldn't they?"

Winston thought. However, he was wrong.

"... No. If they saw me now, everything they built over the last few years would come crumbling down. Let's just leave them as they are, they have everything they could possibly need."

A lot of it he didn't want to accept… but unfortunately, this was his reality. He was unwanted.

If he got out of the Transporter and walked over to them right now, they wouldn't welcome him with open arms.

Rather, they'd look at him with disdain like everybody else always did.

For so long, June thought he hated his parents. And that he did. But it wasn't the strongest emotion he felt for them, no matter how much it should've been. In all honesty, he missed them more than he hated them. They were the only people he had fond memories of, if only a little.

Sure, the state in which they were living back then wasn't great, but June thought it wasn't all bad either.

Perhaps the debt was just that great and they really couldn't afford it, but it still wasn't an excuse to abandon a child that relied on them — that loved them.

"Let's go…"

June whispered, redirecting his attention elsewhere.

Winston didn't reply or waste any time.

Leaving it all at that, he drove off.

Taking a glimpse at the side mirrors, June watched as his parents house grew further apart from him as he left them behind.

After today, he wouldn't ever dare to dwell on the past… and he'd make sure to never let emotion get in the way of anything either.

He was better off throwing the concept of emotion away altogether. For him, it was only a hindrance.

"... How about you stay with me, June. If you have nowhere else to go, that is."

Winston suddenly offered, rubbing the side of his nose awkwardly with his finger.

June did not expect that.

With one brow up, he replied:

"You serious..?"

Living with someone like Winston… seemed unrealistic.

Of course, June had lived with many people over the last few years so he was used to unfamiliar territory, but Winston?

"Sure, uh, yeah. I don't live in the Districts, I have a cabin just outside the city. I like to stay to myself, usually, but I wouldn't mind providing you with a place to stay."

June couldn't help but feel like Winston was taking pity on him and his situation once more. 

However, Winston soon proved him wrong by saying:

"It's not out of pity. I'm sure you think of it as such, but it's not."

He was a bit awkward about it, but he seemed like he meant it. Winston was the type of guy who didn't know how to convey his emotions, a bit like June in all honesty. He more so understood Winston regardless.

If he was offering a palace for June to stay, he'd gladly accept.

"Sure, as long as it's really not in the Districts."

"I assure you, it isn't."