Chapter Text
Turo was gone.
Well, no, not really. He wasn't dead or anything, just being a neglectful asshole by basically living in Area Zero for years now. Barely came home, not even to spend time with Arven.
But it felt as if he was dead due to how much he was not there.
Arven had to work to feed himself, things that he really shouldn't have learned until he was older. He should have gotten the time to actually be a kid, live his childhood, play and have fun.
But now was not the time for that. He had more important matters to attend to.
And right now, that was trying to find something to make for dinner.
Arven stood dumbfounded at the dusty stove, the dim lights in the lab being the only source of light.
Snapping out of his thoughts, he opened the cabinets and glanced inside. All that remained was a few can of peaches that remained well past the expiration date. Opening it up would reveal new horrors and it was best to leave it in the cabinet for now.
Don't wanna risk seeing something that'll take your appetite away, something that is not helpful when you're trying to make something for dinner.
He pulled out a few of the food they had gotten from the food bank. They had given out free food, so that was great. Only problem is, that was when they were restocking and you couldn't choose what food you get.
Either you get some simple soup, or questionable "Meat Lovers Tuna Fish spread."
Sounded less like food and more like reading the first results from Google when you google something about tuna and they give you a jumbled mess of search terms.
He slammed the cabinet shut and opened the fridge door, the light blinding him for a bit, the cool air washing over him in the humid weather.
There was milk, coffee creamer, a small amount of bread that contained only the end pieces, and lettuce that was worn down to nearly the white parts.
He could make a sandwich. There was bread (which hadn't molded, thank Arceus) and lettuce and the questionable tuna spread. He had something to go with the bread, at least. If he had butter, he could make butter bread. Fills him up a bit, though there was this time he ate too much butter. Ended up vomiting much of what he had that day.
He remembered Sada there. Before she left him. Before she-
"Don't think about it...." Arven muttered to himself, almost wishing he was sick so his parents would be there for him, staying by his side until he got better.
He shook his head. Focus. You're on your own. You gotta make food for yourself.
He pulled out the loaf of bread, the remains of the lettuce, and the maybe-safe (?) tuna.
After washing his hands with the small drops of soap he managed to squeeze out of the bottle, he went to work, grabbing a plate.
He sighed to himself. Of course he would be left with end pieces. If you had a standard piece of bread and an end piece, you could make it work. But if you had both end pieces, well, soggy tissue paper seemed to comply more than what end pieces do.
He ripped off a few pieces of lettuce, inspecting them in case of mold or anything. Luckily, there wasn't.
Now for the tuna.
He grabbed the box again. Apparently it was for spreading on crackers, and it came with a small little plastic spoon. Kinda cute.
The expiration date was a few days late. Better than a year? Though that doesn't recall for how it tastes.
He opened the box, and looked inside. They were all packaged in cans and metal sheets of wrapping. Didn't seem to be any damage, so maybe it was safe?
Nevertheless, he grabbed the spoon and opened the tuna can, trying it. Tasted bland. And had a weird aftertaste.
Either way, food was food. He wasn't going to waste food like that anyways.
Arven laid on the ragged couch, the material splitting apart here and there. He was staring up at the ceiling, looking at the textures of the tiles and how the fan was still in place, the call for it to be activate not arriving yet.
He didn't have a room. The lighthouse had two rooms; one is the kitchen, which was also Arven's room, and Turo's room, which was also the lab.
Arven was stuck sleeping on a couch. He thought there would be some serious neck issues from your head resting on an armrest, but Turo shut down his complaints, insisting it was fine. Getting another bed didn't seem to be on his top priority.
"You're here complaining about sleeping on a couch? You do realize some kids like you don't even get a couch? I'd thought you'd be more grateful for what you have...."
Ah yes. Because asking for a bed that wouldn't make your neck into a pretzel is too much to ask, apparently. Especially when Turo recently got all these funds and fame and wealth, he spent it on Area Zero. Not, y'know, his flesh and blood. His son.
"Glad to see your priorities, Dad...." Arven grumbled a bit, bitter.
He shifted around, trying to find a more comfortable position to lay down and try and take a nap, though it seemed that his body said otherwise, and his stomach would cramp on him.
He had went to the bathroom around a dozen times, hoping that would somehow fix everything.
However, the efforts were futile, and everything just seemed to be getting worse, even hours later.
Arven rolled off the couch and stumbled to the bathroom, and caught a glimpse of himself the mirror.
His messy, disheveled, self. The ragged blonde hair and dim blue eyes were a stark contrast to the once youthful, bright eyed, cheerful kid. That bit of happiness was when he first got Maschiff. When they were rolling on the grass, Sada and Turo being too careful to not let Arven hurt himself.
Now those memories were just that. Memories. Distant times when he was happy. When he felt safe, cared for, and loved.
Where did that go?
Arven thought to himself, then his eyes grew wide a bit.
He knew where that went. All too clearly.
When Sada left. When Turo yelled at him. When he wore himself out, too tired and scared to even sleep-
Arven shakily sat down on the cold tile floor, breathing heavily. The feelings of pain and nausea crept back to him, and this time, he couldn't shove them back inside anymore.
His chest heaved, and he vomited inside of the porcelain toilet bowl, spit and chunks dribbling from his mouth and in the water below.
His throat burned from the acid, and Arven slumped against the toilet bowl, sobbing, tears streaming down his cheeks and bile dripping down his chin.
A jingle of keys in the door, and Turo was home.
His heavy footsteps announced his presence, and he carefully swept back his hair, grimacing at the grease in it. He really needed a shower.
He glanced at the small square table, noticing papers from school Arven needed Turo to sign. Nothing too major. He could get it all done in about 10 minutes, and do away with any distractions.
Turo spotted the couch, and frowned. Arven wasn't there.
He couldn't have gone far. The lab door was always locked, so the best place to check was the bathroom.
The door was open, and he caught a glimpse of Arven sitting on the floor.
"Don't tell me he....." Turo muttered and stomped his way to the small space and swung open the bathroom door.
Arven was asleep, sitting against the toilet, with chunks of food and spit still inside.
Turo connected the dots, and rolled his eyes. Great. Just another distraction. Nothing he can't handle, though.
He shook Arven's shoulder, his voice seemingly loud against the quiet house.
"Hey. Arven. Get up."
Arven mumbled a bit, but woke up quickly the second he realized who was speaking.
Turo nodded at this, seemingly contempt with Arven getting up in less that a minute.
He gestured to Arven. "Clean yourself up. There's cold medicine in the cabinet, behind the mirror."
Turo stands up, and releases his grip on Arven's shoulder.
"If you need anything important, I'll be in my lab."
With that, he stormed off, leaving Arven alone. Not even a "Are you alright? Are you hurt? Do you need anything? How did you get sick?"
You don't see those kinds of things from Turo. To Arven, this was normal.
He slowly stood up, legs shaking, using the sink counter and the toilet to help stand. He flushed the toilet, watching everything slide down the hole, wishing he could do that with his problems. Just a simple action, and they go away.
Arven splashed water on his face, wiping off any tears and excess bile, trying to maintain the appearance of someone who is fine.
He staggered to the couch, and flopped on it, covering himself with a heavy blanket and shutting himself off from the outside world.
Knock knock
Turo's fingers froze on the keyboard, half deep in thought, the Violet book open next to him. He'll admit to himself that his desk was cluttered, and that he needed to take better care of himself. But not now.
"What does that boy want this time....?" He muttered as he stood up, rubbing his eyes im frustration. He specifically told Arven to bother him when it was important, which meant the house was on fire or he's dying. What could he even want now?
Turo swung the door open and towered over the small boy in front of him, with a stern glare.
"What?"
Arven froze a bit, then he spoke, his words quiet and meek.
Turo scoffed at this. "Speak up. I can't hear you."
It seemed like an eternity before Arven found his words. Turo was taken aback by the sound of his voice. It had been a while since he had heard Arven's voice....
"....I..... I threw up again....."
Turo just stared, raising an eyebrow.
"Did you clean it up?"
Arven slowly nods, trembling a bit.
"Then what? What do you want me to do?"
Arven was caught off guard by this, and he managed to stammer out.
"What..... What do you mean....?"
Turo scoffed. Of course.
"You cleaned it up. You're all better now. Why did you want to alert me of this? Did you want a medal or something?"
Arven quickly shook his head no.
"I..... I'm sorry-"
"Don't interrupt me unless the house is on fire or you're dying, not your journal entires about you being sick. Got it?"
"Y-yesssir-"
The door slammed shut in his face before Arven could finish speaking. He wasn't sure what he expected to come out from behind that door. All kinds of horrors could emerge if he knocked, so it was best to leave Turo alone and not be a bother.
He slumped back to the couch, trying not to be more of a mess. He stared out the window, looking at the few houses from what he could see.
He wondered what kind of life they were having out there. Could be better than this, right....?