Going from having lived in what was essentially a castle to being disowned was something Aion hadn’t ever thought would happen. Yet, here he was, 17 years old, thrown out all because he couldn’t let go of the music he’d grown so fond of. He hated having to leave Aileen behind, but if he tried to bring her with him, their parents would no doubt have sent the police after him and accused him of kidnapping.

She’d asked him, when he left, if music was more important than she was, and he had felt his throat close up with self-loathing for even making her ask. But the truth was, if he left music behind to take over the family, just like their parents wanted, he knew he would be dead before long. His life had become so much better with music as an outlet, he’d experienced emotions he’d thought he’d lost when he was a small child. He could feel things beyond dread when opening his eyes in the morning. Food didn’t taste quite as bland and didn’t grow in his mouth as he chewed anymore. He had something to look forward to when coming home after school, and it made it easier to put up with the treatment he received from the other students.

So no matter how much it made him hate himself for leaving her behind, he had to get out.

Now that he was, he didn’t know what to do with himself though.

His goal was Midi City, but with practically no money, he’d bought a train ticket that would take him as far as possible.

It was early in the morning when his feet hit the pavement of the train station platform. The sun was still rising and the sky was a soft gradient of blue, pink and orange. Despite not having any idea of how to get money for the rest of his trip, breathing in the cool air of early summer made him feel light inside, like a weight had finally been lifted off his shoulders.

The street he stepped onto was blissfully empty, an indication of the early hour. None of the stores along the road were open, not even the bakery with their opening hour of 5 am having unlocked their doors.

Birdsong could be heard as he made his way down the street, looking around. The town was mostly untouched by the neon lights of bigger cities, but upkept enough to still be somewhat modern, if not a bit behind the times.

Aion came to a stop in front of a small music store. It seemed to be selling both CDs and instruments, and he let his eyes run over every little thing in the display window. He wished it was a bit later in the day, so he could look at everything inside, beyond the darkness that enveloped the little store, but it didn’t seem like it would open til 10.

Digging through his pockets, he counted out the money he had left. The bakery would open in about an hour, the rest would follow four to five hours later. He should probably try to look for a grocery store to see when it opened. Other than that, he was at a loss.

The next few hours he sat by a river that ran behind the main street, curled up on a bench. Slowly the sound of the town waking up joined the purling water and singing birds, as he sat with his guitar in his lap, idly strumming a melody inspired by the quiet morning. It helped keep the hunger at bay, his mind focused on the sounds, his eyes closed.

Aion was so wrapped up in the music he didn’t notice a stranger walking his way, the steps muffled by the grass beneath their feet. So when he suddenly heard a voice right behind him, he jumped, clutching his guitar close to his chest and turning to face the imminent death his mind had conjured up in the split second between registering the sound and turning around.

Behind him stood… a man with a surprised look on his face, looking to be just a little bit older than him. His hair was cropped short and neatly brushed, making Aion feel self conscious about the way his own mane was sticking out in all directions after having fallen asleep on the train.

“Hey there, whatcha doin over there all by yerself? Don’t think I’ve seen ya round here before. Traveller?”

With wide eyes, the teen gripped his guitar tightly as he looked at the stranger. Anxiety flooded his insides like a tidal wave, and he flew to his feet, taking a few quick steps backwards. The man called out in warning, reaching out to grab him by the waist just before he was about to fall into the river.

“Careful! The river’s pretty deep round here.”

Aion stared up at the man holding him, unable to move. At the same time as he was freaking out about being touched by a stranger, his cheeks flushed and his heart was beating faster. He’d never felt flustered in this way before. He’d heard of love at first sight in books and movies and songs, was this it?

Eventually, the man eased the gangly lion back onto his feet, a kind smile on his face. “Ya a musician? I heard ya play, if ya don’t have anythin planned for the day, I’d love for ya to play for a while at the farm. The kids would love it.”

Startled, Aion hid his face behind Holy Ark. “Y-you…” After mumbling and stuttering for a while, the man patiently waiting for him to say what he wanted, the blond peeked out from behind the sleek surface of his instrument. “Okay…”

That’s how Aion ended up staying with the man, Yufumi, for the time being.

Yufumi lived on a small farm with a group of people, a tight knit family by choice rather than blood. To Aion’s disappointment, Yufumi turned out to be married, his wife a sweet young woman by the name of Hiyoko. He felt immensely ashamed of what he was sure was a crush on a married man, but luckily he could just not say anything and his feelings would probably go away. He’d never liked anyone like this before, so it was only a(n uneducated) guess.

In total there were 14 people living on the farm. It was owned by a couple in their early thirties, and the others ranged in age from their twenties to children. It was a peaceful place that liked to keep to themselves most of the time. The first time he played for them Aion had been nervous, but they assured him that they loved the way he played. They showed him a room in the main building full of instruments that made his eyes shine, and he was left in awe when they told him that he was allowed free reign in the room for as long as he wanted to stay.

Being showered in compliments for his musical abilities was awkward. His parents used to appreciate it as long as it didn’t get in the way of his role as a future heir, but here, he could play as much as he wanted without anyone telling him off. Every time someone said something nice to him he’d stumble on a chord or a note for a moment if he was in the middle of playing, or, if he was finishing, he would blush and stammer out a thank you as he hid his face.

The couple who owned the farm, Jabberwock and Sara, seemed especially fond of him, and would often invite him into their own room to eat dinner or have him play only for them. It felt like having a loving family again, one that didn’t expect you to be everything they wanted and for you to abandon your own dreams and needs.

It felt like home.

Things started to change at an extremely slow pace, to the point where Aion didn’t even notice. He’d been there for half a year by the time the owners asked him to move into their room, their reasoning being that the children on the farm were getting big enough that they needed their own rooms, combined with another of the couples expecting a child of their own. It seemed like a logical conclusion for the newest one there to make the adjustments, Aion reasoned after hearing them out. And the owners were just taking responsibility by taking him in.

Once he turned 19, he realised he hadn’t left the farm in almost a year. When he pointed it out in his surprise, Sara chuckled and pushed a lock of Aion’s hair behind his ear and told him that they had everything they would ever need right here anyway.

Jabberwock confided in him that he’d been having dreams so realistic he could taste them. He told Aion that his music touched hearts, that thanks to him they would always have a home in the world, even though the world hated them. That kind of talk had become so normal by this point that Aion didn’t even question it whenever Jabberwock would bring up the dreams he’d seen the night before. By now, he was sharing a bed with the couple, as it had only seemed natural after having shared the same space for years. Besides, by sharing a bed they would always be there for each other if something happened during the night. He didn’t know what ‘something’ might be, but it seemed logical at the time.

Sara loved to brush his hair. She’d run her fingers through soft curls, burying her face in his mane at the nape of his neck. At first it had made his body grow tense, but with time he got used to it to the point that she didn’t even ask before doing so. At any time he could find her fingers, her nose or her lips against his scalp, and he could only close his eyes and let her. There was a certain level of shame that clawed at him whenever he would ask her to stop, and she would look at him with those saddened eyes.

Eventually, more and more of the people on the farm would do the same. They would all touch him, hold him, with no regard to his personal space, but maybe this was just what a proper family was supposed to be like.

He’d needed space, time away from everyone who would barely even let him take a shower on his own, and his anxieties that had been soothed by being there in the beginning had grown worse every month where people crept closer and closer into his bubble.

Jabberwock and Sara had even started to speak for him, and it made him clam up more and more, until he barely spoke at all. He felt less like a person and more like a doll.

So he snuck off the farm grounds, leaving for the first time in nearly five years. Even thinking about stepping off the properties made him feel so guilty, that now that he was walking down the road toward town he almost wanted to throw up. God, they would all be so upset if they found out where he’d gone.

Just as he was about to turn around to run back to the farm, he came eye to eye with a man who looked to be around his age, about a head or so shorter, with red and black hair and a long tail.

Aion froze, body starting to shiver uncontrollably when the man looked at him, then at the direction he’d come from with furrowed brows. He’d been caught sneaking off the farm and he regretted it with every fiber in his body.

The man scowled.

“If y’gonna recruit people to ya cult, better look elsewhere, everyone already knows bout’cha here.”

And then he continued down the road, bottles of milk in tow, leaving a shocked Aion at the dirt road leading back to the farm where it met the bigger, paved road.

The lion stared as the stranger headed up the driveway of a house, knocking on the door and waiting. When the owner of the house opened and the two looked back at him after a moment of conversation, Aion turned and ran.

Once his home was called a cult, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. At night, when he was lying between Sara and Jabberwock in bed, adoring touches across his face, chest, arms and thighs, he grew tense. What had felt natural now made him feel violated, but when he asked them to stop they looked so hurt that he felt the need to apologise. They talked about how much he’d done for them, how much they’d done for him , that they loved him so much, that it made him conflicted. Weren’t cults supposed to be violent? That’s what stories always told, what news said. Cults were violent and religious. Who had ever heard of a cult that was nothing but loving?

He fell into uneasy sleep, with Jabberwock’s hand on his thigh and Sara’s in his hair.

The thought wouldn’t leave his mind, even weeks after his meeting with the milk delivery man. It made him jumpy and locking himself in the bathroom he started to look up cults on his now rarely used phone. The more he read about them, the more he came to realise that the man had been right.

He needed to get out, but where would he even go?

It took him another eight months to get away.

The day of his 24th birthday the entire farm held a big party in his honour. He was showered in compliments, touches, kisses, all the while everyone was singing, dancing and drinking. No one even noticed that he didn’t say a word, nor played a note.

Every single adult was touching him, pressing their lips to his, some more gentle than others. He felt dirty, like he was something other than a fellow myumon to them. He realised that he really wasn’t a person of his own to them anymore; he was someone they piled all their expectations of satisfaction and happiness onto.

When they had first met, Aion would have been filled with butterflies at the way Yufumi looked at him, touched him. He’d almost been swept away to the man’s bedroom, that he no longer shared with his wife after everyone was given their own separate rooms, but had managed to excuse himself to the bathroom, and by the time he came back, Yufumi was passed out on his bed.

After another few hours, the winter dawn arrived. Everyone had fallen asleep by then, on the floor, on couches or on beds, but Aion stood in front of them all, watching them for the last time.

With just as much as he’d had when he arrived, he left them all behind, sneaking onto the first train to finally get to Midi City, praying that he wouldn’t get caught.

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