"Isn't Tristan's rebellious phase manifesting a little too soon? Talk about being precocious," Misha whined like a neglected puppy as he glanced askance at the boy sitting in the living room. "I feel like a heartbroken mom."
Misha pursed his lips like a petulant child, visibly annoyed. He did not like how Tristan was acting, much less distancing himself from them. Today, for example, the boy had been staring at his phone since his arrival and ignoring everyone else, including his brothers, to whom he had barely spoken. And when he did talk to them, he was muttering in such a low voice that whatever he said was unintelligible. Tristan was sitting leg-crossed on the couch, his back hunched as he held his phone almost up to his face. One inch closer and he would be kissing the screen! Without regard to the people in the kitchen, he withdrew himself into his own little world, and it felt impossible to snap him out of it.
"Angela should never have gotten him that darn phone," Misha pouted a little more. "He looks like a drug addict now."
"Well, he was using it responsibly until recently," Gabriel pointed out, frowning ever-so slightly. "Although, I guess he's glued to it now and can't get his nose off the screen."
As Gabriel said, Tristan had only been using his phone for its intended purpose these past two years, always putting it aside when the group gathered. He wasn't fond of the thing, as Angela had given the phone to him after the kidnapping accident to keep an eye on his whereabouts, afraid he'd get abducted again. At first, she had been calling nonstop whenever he left the house, but the calls gradually lessened as time passed until they became practically non-existent. As such, Tristan hadn't touched his phone for almost a month before suddenly remembering its existence and falling in love with it. These days, it was like the people around him didn't even exist anymore; all that mattered was his goddamn phone and whoever he was talking to.
Even more troubling was his evasive behavior, which had started the day after his brothers scolded him senseless for falling asleep outside. Since then, he seemed to be giving them the cold shoulder, avoiding them and shutting himself in his bedroom at home. He stopped sneaking into their rooms for the night, but Gabriel and Jake knew the boy was still afraid of sleeping alone. Proof of that lay in the dark circles etched under his eyes. He was able to sleep soundly only when his brothers were near him, and since he hadn't come to them and had been turning them away when they knocked on his door, he obviously hadn't slept much these past two weeks. He looked awful. His skin was lackluster, and his eyes appeared glassy, almost lifeless. He had lost weight, too. He was already thin like a twig, and, now, with his skin sticking to his bones, he could be mistaken for a living skeleton.
Cyberaddiction was no joke! Even a half-rotten zombie wouldn't look as sickly as the boy, or so Misha said.
Lately, most of Tristan's time was focused on his phone and whoever he was texting. Each time they asked him who he was talking to, the boy responded that it was a friend from class. And each time, Misha had to bite his tongue to refrain from asking what friend he was talking about, for the boy had no friends his age. He could get along with everyone, but not form deep friendships. Thanks to his demented parents and unhinged past lives' memories, he had built a barrier around him that pushed everyone who tried to grow too close away since his early childhood. His brothers and Misha were the only people he had let enter his inner world. Stephan, Masha, and Yuki could take a peek, but no more. Unfortunately, not even his brothers could draw near anymore. The reason was unknown, and it was eating at them from the inside out.
For goodness' sake! What was going on in that kid's head?!
"Do you think he got a girlfriend?" Stephan spouted his usual nonsense while sipping his coffee, breaking the silence that had befallen them. "He's at that age, y'know?"
Although some felt their mouths twitch, the clown was promptly ignored, and the conversation continued in a serious tone. No one paid any heed to Stephan's mumbled complaints.
"It's strange how jumpy he gets when we walk nearby, too." Jake squinted his eye, tapping on the table as he let his thoughts wander. "He reminds me of my boys when they were scheming something horribly stupid and knew I'd get angry beyond words if I learned about it. But we're talking about Tristan. His obvious lies and weird behavior feel off-putting, considering how he managed to keep his past memories a secret from us for such a long time. It only came to light because of a blunder, thanks to a lack of sleep. If it hadn't happened, I don't think we'd have ever known. So, what's different now? What got him so nervous that he can't act normally? It has to be something even more disturbing than his past lives' memories."
"It's at times like these that I realize you really did raise kids in your past lives," Masha couldn't help but throw a jab at Jake. They still had a somewhat rocky relationship. "But you're right, something does not add up."
By Masha's side, Yuki nodded. The consensus was unanimous: Tristan was hiding something from them, but what? Or could he really be in a rebellious phase? If only he opened up to them… Where did things go wrong? Was it when Tristan was scolded? But neither Gabriel nor Jake thought they went overboard. They genuinely had been worried about the child and did not want such a thing to happen again. Tristan might not be as lucky the next time.
Feeling uncertain, they peered at the boy one after another. The group was sitting around the table in the kitchen, but the open space gave them a perfect view of the living room. The boy sat alone on the big couch, depicting a lonely picture. However, none dared to push their luck and ask him to join them. An annoyed teenager was easily sent into a rage over nothing, and he made it pretty clear he did not want to mingle with them. It was already good that he came with them at all.
Still, it bothered them that he was ignoring them. They tried to push aside the feeling but couldn't.
Excluding Jake, no one ever had to handle a pre-teen in their rebellious phase, and they thus had no idea what to do. They were tiptoeing around Tristan, afraid to poke the hornet's nest. They had heard horror stories about teenagers going through puberty, and their own behaviors at that age were still fresh in their memories. The thought alone made them grit their teeth and grimace: one wrong word, and welcome pandemonium.
"I'm starting to understand how you felt when I was acting all over the place as a kid," Misha laughed wryly, remembering just how out of character he had been after transmigrating into his younger self. His strange behavior must have been as obvious as the elephant in the room. Even now, he could not help but wonder how on earth Gabriel and Masha could bear with his temper at the time without losing patience. Honestly, he had no idea. Thinking back, he was amazed at how well they handled him.
"So," Stephan smiled, "what do we do?"
At these words, everyone snapped their heads around to stare at Jake. Their expectant gazes said it all. He tried to pretend not to notice. However, their eyes were locked onto him, seemingly trying to bore a hole into his forehead. It was impossible to ignore.
"…Fine, I get it, I'll go check on him," Jake sighed, aware he had no choice in the matter. He had a feeling Misha would kick him out of the kitchen and into the living room if it meant he'd sit down with Tristan and talk. "But let me finish my breakfast first."
.
.
When Jake sat beside Tristan, the boy was so startled that he almost jumped off the couch. The fearful gaze the boy threw him stung, drawing a discreet sigh out of Jake. Reassuring his little brother wasn't going to be easy. He also knew Tristan hated when people beat around the bush or played the hypocrisy card. He was perceptive enough to see through people's lies. Hence, although aware it would hurt the boy, Jake decided to be direct and not sugarcoat anything.
"You know you've been acting suspicious lately, right?"
Tristan pinched his lips and lowered his head. Denying it was pointless. Jake could see conflicted feelings passing through the boy's face, and again, he sighed. Without warning, he dragged the child into a hug and kissed the crown of his head. He'd thought that playing dumb would be better for Tristan. And so, he pretended not to know. He'd wanted to let the child decide whether or not to tell them, and with that in mind, Jake hadn't told anyone his suspicions, not even Gabriel. But Tristan's health was deteriorating by the day, and Jake couldn't let things continue as they were. Thus, he whispered into the boy's ears so the onlookers in the kitchen couldn't hear:
"I have a hunch who it is you've been talking to. Don't forget, I went through something similar to you, and I understand how it goes. If anything, it'd be weird if Pierrot didn't also share your memories. I don't believe this is a one-way thing."
The boy seemed to forget to breathe for an instant and lifted his eyes to stare at his brother in panic, fear creeping upon him. Jake felt the tiny body tense, the muscles getting ready in case the boy needed to flee. He knew it was a defense mechanism, but it nevertheless hurt. He had thought they had grown closer over the years and had become someone Tristan could trust and confide in. Unfortunately, he seemed to have been mistaken, and they still had a long way to go.
"Shh, don't panic, it's alright. Let him look if he wants, I don't care. And I'm sure the others won't either. Don't make that face! I won't tell them if you don't want them to know. You're not the only one who knows how to keep a secret."
"…You really won't tell them?"
"I won't, I swear," Jake gave his little brother a reassuring smile. "But would you mind if we discuss it tonight? Misha's living room is not the best place for that, so come to my room after nightfall. We will have plenty of time to talk, then. And don't worry, I'll kick Stephan out. He should survive sleeping in the guest room once or twice. If not, guess we'll have a screaming banshee at our door tonight."
That had the merit of making Tristan chuckle. But that chuckle was interrupted by a "ding," and both instinctively glanced at the phone. In his haste, Tristan had forgotten to lock it, and the glaring and ominous message appeared on the screen for Jake to see.
"Take your moronic little brother to the hospital ASAP."