What Was Worth A Heart

Chapter 119: Talking

There was once a time when Shao Long forgot what happened. A month straight inside his room, door locked only when XI Shen Ko came in or came out of it. Chained, he figured, upon seeing the bruises around his ankle after the month was over. His fingers bled too, from scratches. He recalled Shao Jun saying something about his room being the quietest he had ever listened. There were no screams, no cries, no sobbing or anything. And Shao Jun had tried listening in too, using some microphones Shao Long could care less where he got it from. A month passed before he was told that. And Shao Jun had asked, if he was harmed. 

So when Shao Long looked at his bloodied knuckles, bruised ankles but nothing more than that, he shrugged the question off. He wasn't hurt. Instead, he had felt the most refreshed he had in a while, which spoke volumes. It later becomes a fact that Xi Shen Ko hadn't really hurt him during that month, but what exactly, that he did, he couldn't remember. 

And so for the next few years, the incident was forgotten when Shao Long had focused more on memorizing his father's plans and activities, alongside enduring the other more painful sessions than that one month of not being aware. One month of forgotten activity. One month of mystery. One month of not knowing what, in the whole wide world, did Xi Shen Ko do to him during that month. 

Years passed, he completely forgot about it. 

"Psychological suggestions can take on many forms, as long as there is a trigger. Now, Shao Long, I'm going to need you to try to remember if there's any suggestive gesture you've ever associated with him before." His father's tone was serious, but still held the warmth Shao Long was not used to. Charles was there, observing with tense shoulders from the corner of the room, his eyes never straying away from Xi Shen Ko's figure perched on the stool next to the bed for more than a second. Shao Long felt it was a little overwhelming. 

It had been years since he had been in contact with Xi Shen Ko, the real Xi Shen Ko, his father, the one who had raised him for six years oof his childhood before being imprisoned by his own mind. It ought to be nostalgic, like he would, should have missed him. Why wouldn't he? This was his father, his real father. But Shao Long had spent a decade hurting, a decade trying to survive, lying in his mind that everything was alright. The image of his father back when he was six had long since buried underneath a pile of scars and memories he'd rather not have. He couldn't miss him. He didn't even remember this stranger. 

But there was warmth in his eyes, there was concern in his voice, Shao Long felt it. And instead of feeling the comfort he thought he would receive, he was freaking out a little too quickly. He had only heard this kind of tone directed towards Shao Jun, and oh, to be the one on the receiving end instead felt so wrong, so threatening, so intimidating. He didn't pay attention to how hard he clenched his fists to keep it from shaking. 

Xi Shen Ko hadn't touched him. No, it was only that one skin contact when he wiped that tear away from his cheek, and nothing more. Even then, it wasn't initiated by him. It was himself. Had been himself.