Chapter Text
A pleasant wind was blowing that day, sending a fresh waft of newly bloomed wildflowers throughout the inner courtyard. It was nearing the end of March, the mornings still brisk and cool enough for a light jacket, while the midday sun warmed the surroundings, bringing with it the promise of new flowers, and greenery. Carlo didn’t exactly have a favorite time of the year, but he did enjoy the cloudless, blue skies when spring drew near, at the loss of the longer evenings. He liked winter, but spring carried its own merit as well.
It was midday, warm enough that he could shed his jacket, and he sat out in the gated courtyard with several other students who were all enjoying the fresh air while everyone ate their lunches. A lot of people had strayed from the mess hall to take advantage of the weather, and while Carlo normally liked staying where it was warm, he enjoyed eating outside sometimes too. And it hurt matters none that his best friend was with him.
They’d both been admiring a nearby patch of tulips that were budding beyond the gates, Romeo in particular oddly enamored with the sway of the bulbs as they bounced in the wind. Carlo heaved a sigh, having finished his meal ages ago, and the lull of conversation with Romeo was always a silence he could still bask in, as they’d both been rambling on and off about school—testing, more specifically, but the silence was peaceful too.
Both boys had been through rigorous testing the past week, and Carlo was ready for a break more than anything. The school always gave them time off after a set of tests such as this, some children returning home if they had parents, but the unfortunate ones who didn’t usually kept to the Charity House, unless given permission to travel into the city for whatever reason. Romeo fell into that category, and the two boys were lazily watching the leaves rustle in the wind, Romeo’s longer hair tousling all about his face.
Unable to help but admire him, especially back-dropped by all the tulips just on the other side of the gate, Carlo carefully tucked his friend’s hair behind his ear, earning a cheeky smirk when he did, along with an eyebrow raise. Romeo, who had been sitting to his left, subtly moved in closer, until he was almost leaning against Carlo’s shoulder, and he playfully nudged Carlo with his weight at the last second, almost causing him to topple off their seat.
“Hey!” he spat, quickly catching the edge before he lost his balance, frowning at his friend who instantly doubled over into a fit of snorts and laughs. “You could’ve killed me!”
Romeo rolled his eyes, nudging Carlo again who was prepared this time, and he shoved him back with more force, but Romeo didn’t budge at all. As if he’d expected that very thing, he only smirked at Carlo’s failure, his eyes narrowed with his mischievous smile. “It’d take more than that to crack your thick skull.”
Carlo frowned, folding his arms across his chest before he spied Romeo’s half-finished scone still sitting unguarded on the other side of where he sat. He’d placed it down while they both stared off to admire the flowers, but now Carlo reached across him, having to practically crawl in his lap to reach the scone, and he managed to nab it. Already realizing he was being robbed, Romeo dug his fingers into Carlo’s ribs, as he’d left himself wide open for attack by stretching out like that, and he nearly toppled face first into his friend’s crotch from doubling over when it tickled, but he didn’t dare let go of the scone.
“Stop!” was all he could choke out through laughter.
Romeo did not stop. Despite how a few students across the courtyard were staring, Romeo was relentless as he nabbed Carlo’s arm, forcing it up where he had free rein to his sensitive ribs, and the second time he jammed his fingers right above his stomach, Carlo accidentally dropped the scone. It landed at their feet, Romeo letting go and yelping when he failed to save it from being covered in dirt, but by then, it was too late.
Both boys recovered from their antics, Carlo now sitting straight, and once Romeo had retrieved his scone from the ground, Carlo could only give his friend an apologetic, sheepish smile. “Sorry… but you know better than to grab my stomach like that.”
Rather than bemoan the loss, Romeo shrugged before brushing what dirt he could off his treat, and ate it anyway. “Still good,” he said, leaning back as far as he could in their seat, stretching his legs all the way out. Even while they sat next to each other, one could tell how much taller Romeo was than Carlo based on his leg span alone.
Carlo sighed, now a bit tired from all the excitement, and noted how more and more students were leaving the courtyard to head back inside. They were finished with lessons for now, but he was quite bored and didn’t really know what to do. Usually Romeo always had fun schemes for them to indulge in, but lately, they’d been shut up inside so often that Carlo didn’t mind so much simply being outside even if all they did was look at the sky.
It was so blue, it was somewhat creepy, he had to admit, but Carlo soon turned to Romeo once the last of the students left the courtyard, leaving the boys to themselves. “How do you think you did on the last exam?”
Groaning, Romeo threw his head back. “Do not ask me about exams right now. It’s forbidden.”
Carlo snorted. “That bad?”
“No—listen, I studied, I swear, I just hate taking exams. Makes my whole body hurt.”
Carlo rolled his eyes. “You aren’t using your body while sitting down writing at a desk.”
“When every cell in my brain is forced into use, that’s when it affects the rest of my body.”
Smiling, Carlo moved Romeo’s hair back behind his ear just as a gust of wind disheveled it all over again. “So you probably failed?”
There was a long stretch of silence before Romeo heaved a massive sigh that seemed to take great effort, his focus still being elsewhere toward a random group of trees. “Probably.”
It was said with such utter defeat that Carlo couldn’t help but bust out laughing, earning another jab to his ribs for that.
There was very little, if nothing altogether, that rotted Carlo’s mood beyond belief. Exams were behind him, the day was mild, with a pleasant breeze carrying various scents about the air, a blue sky, even birds chirping melodies as they sought to begin building nests and such. He’d had a nice lunch with his friend, and now the two boys were walking along the promenade, laughing about nothing in particular, but simply enjoying each other’s company.
Several other students also had the same in mind, but when an approaching staff member hurried past the throngs of students to reach them, Carlo’s smile, the only smile reserved especially for Romeo, faded when he heard the next words out of the woman’s mouth.
“Carlo, your father is here.”
The next few sentences she spoke were more a blur, as Carlo had all but frozen, several thoughts rushing through his head at once, mainly—what in the world was his father here for? Normally he sent letters to mark his advent, but rarely did he show up unannounced like this, and none of Carlo’s reasoning for why now of all times was anything positive. The woman claimed he’d given no reason, at least not to her, and wished to see his son preferably now rather than later.
The woman left him there to gather his composure, which took more time than Carlo was willing to admit, and not even Romeo’s reassuring pats to his back made any difference. Carlo was sweating, his heart thumping hard and harder in his chest, unable to think of a single reason why Geppetto would have dropped everything to show up like this. He didn’t exactly keep up with the papers, but there was nothing of importance happening in Krat to warrant such a surprise visit, as Father was no stranger to sending him letters and inviting him to galas throughout the season if there was such a thing worth attending. Any reason to show off his son, one of his achievements, Carlo thought.
Speaking of, he didn’t bother inviting Carlo home for Christmas this past year, and he counted himself lucky he was able to stay with Romeo for once, despite his friend’s assurances he probably missed home. He really didn’t. But Romeo didn’t understand what Father was like when others turned their backs on them. Romeo had no earthly clue just why Carlo would have much rather stayed at school than go home, not even upset Father hadn’t bothered to wish him happy holidays that year. Carlo truly did not care whether his father kept in contact or not.
So now—he was at a loss. Standing there, trembling somewhat, suddenly feeling much too cold and in need of his jacket again, and didn’t even realize Romeo was gently shaking his shoulder.
“Are you alright? What do you think he wants?”
Nothing good, he knew. Carlo’s throat tightened, and he shook his head. “I have no idea, but if he’s expecting me, it wouldn’t be wise to dally.” He turned to his friend, trying to find some comfort in his concerned eyes, but failing when his nerves won the battle, his voice shaking. “I-I’ll be back.”
Romeo nodded, giving him a small wave of farewell as Carlo strode from the promenade back toward the school. The entire walk felt like an eternity where every single step earned him an extra, suffocating weight onto his body, until he was slowing the further he drew to the building. He didn’t know if he’d rather Father had come find him or have to do this, as the instinct to turn tail and run far, far away was always in the back of his mind.
Carlo definitely took more time than was necessary for such a short walk, but once he finally made it to the front entrance of the school, a few ladies from the staff were standing there, and waved to him with rapid hand movements, urging him to come forth with haste. Carlo barely put in the extra effort, being tugged along by one woman who led him to the headmistress’s office up a nearby flight of stairs. The whole trip was all rather blank fog in his mind, as his body moved only thanks to the woman who was escorting him, gesticulating about how excited the staff was to have the opportunity to speak to the genius Geppetto.
It was all the same drivel he should have been used to by now, but it never failed to sour his stomach every time he was forced to sit and watch someone gush about his father. The Geppetto who posed for the photographs and shook hands with business partners and who spoke so eloquently while in a room full of people was much different than the Geppetto who was his father.
Carlo’s thoughts were ripped right back to reality when the office door opened, and he hadn’t absorbed a single, solitary word that the staff member had been exclaiming for the entirety of the trip, because—there was his father. Seated in a chair, having been engrossed in a conversation with the smiling headmistress, he gave pause the moment they locked eyes, and he rose from his seat, arms spread wide as though expecting Carlo to run into them. He didn’t dare move a muscle, his eyes roaming back and forth between Father, and the headmistress.
“There you are, my boy.”
Arms were around him, squeezing much too tight, Carlo too stiff to bend his arms and bother giving it back, but luckily Father made it brief enough before leaning away, smiling what others saw as a charismatic smile, but it only served to raise Carlo’s anxieties all over again. And he couldn’t help it.
He blurted, “Am I in trouble?” without thinking, gaining a chuckle from both Father and the headmistress. The staff member who had escorted him had left some time ago, but Carlo had been so lost in his own mind that he hadn’t even noticed her leaving.
Father patted his back. “Nothing like that, son. I know this is sudden, but I’m here to claim you. Some business has called me to leave Krat, it’s unavoidable, really.”
Again, Carlo looked at the headmistress who listened to this from behind her desk, smiling and nodding as though already in agreement to something Carlo wasn’t even sure he fully understood. He searched her aged eyes for any sign of clarity behind the half-moon spectacles, wishing she sensed his need for help, but help with what, he couldn’t even say. It was a habit to look to those around him while Father was in the same room, as if they would sense his distress based on his posture alone and come to his aid. They never did.
The only thing that really sank into his brain was, “Leave Krat?” as he turned back to Father, hating his smile. That misleading smile. Others were always so charmed by it, but it made Carlo’s skin crawl.
Geppetto nodded. “It’s high time you experienced some travel, I think. You’ve never left Krat’s borders, and while strict regulations are in place for who can and can’t leave, we’ve already been given full leniency, at least when it concerns business.” He patted Carlo’s back, as though urging his son to share in the enthusiasm, but that was something he was incapable of, still not quite comprehending what Father was even telling him. “Hurry and pack your things. We’re due to leave first thing in the morning by boat. I’ll be waiting.”
And just as soon as he’d been swept up by Father’s torrent, Carlo was back in his dorm, packing a trunk full of clothes and other items. He didn’t even remember coming back here, nor pulling his trunk from under his bed, nor packing a single thing. His mind was as far away as it could possibly be, and though he hadn’t even agreed to a single thing Father had told him earlier, he knew he had no choice regardless of whatever decision had been made.
“You’re leaving?” Romeo said, while he assisted Carlo by helping him gather any necessities.
It still hadn’t dawned on him the reality of what was happening, as Carlo floated through every motion he did as though locked in a dream, and he only nodded. “I have to. Father’s wishes.”
“How long will you be gone?”
“I don’t know. He said we were leaving Krat because of business he has to tend to.” With a hefty thud, Carlo closed his trunk shut, clasping the locks, and shook his head, mostly to himself. “He didn’t even tell me where we were going.”
“If you’re leaving Krat, that’s got to be exciting seeing new sights at least, right?”
For a split moment, Carlo considered turning on Romeo and rebuffing his statement with some sort of sarcastic quip, but he gave pause, only shaking his head. It was so hard to resist the temptation to start spitting insults at his father’s expense, especially while he wasn’t here to defend himself. Romeo too fell prey to Geppetto’s charms, and Carlo hated that not even his closest friend knew what lay beneath the surface, having never had the courage to tell him, and he probably never would.
For now, he tried to see the positives, for whatever that was worth anymore, and forced a smile, though he knew it came out more as a cringe. “I’ve never been outside of Krat before.”
Romeo didn’t appear to notice the fake smile. “I’m jealous. You’ve got to tell me all about it when you get back—and write to me.”
“I will, don’t worry.” Try as he might to glean anything good from this, Carlo couldn’t shrug off the dreadful dark cloud that hung over his head, long after he’d finished packing, trying to muster the will to brace for the inevitable, and his last fleeting moment of peace was when he pulled Romeo down by the collar to kiss him. “I love you,” he said, having not meant it to be a plea of sorts, but even if it came off that way, Romeo didn’t appear to notice.
He just smiled back, ruffling Carlo’s hair as a final send off. “Love you too. Have fun! Tell me all about it when you get back.”
“I will.” The last words he spoke to Romeo were automated, because Carlo’s mind had returned to the clouds, a heavy, unavoidable rumination settling in where he walked down the corridors of the Charity House with heavy, slow steps, wishing Father would change his mind and leave, wishing Father would suddenly remember he had another commitment, actually, and Carlo need not travel with him, but there was no denying his fate, and he knew that. Carlo simply sighed to try and calm his nerves, but it did absolutely nothing to soothe his woes.
It never did.
With his trunk in hand, the walk having felt like it lasted hours, he was soon turning the handle of the headmistress’s office to meet back up with his father.