KAEDE HATES SURPRISES. He's only ever received bad memories from them. Like the time when he'd found out that his biological father had abandoned his family. And the time when his mother had announced that she was going to marry his stepfather. Or the time when he'd woken up in a hospital, memories erased and learning soon after that someone had tried and would try again to murder him.

He despises them. Fears them even.

And that's what it'd felt like, seeing his grandmother bloody and unconscious.

By the time they'd gotten to the hospital, his mind was already in a wreck. In a daze, the hours had flurried by, the only memory that he'd registered that of the doctor telling him that it'd been syncope.

Kaede had listened to him quietly, giving no response. While his heart had plummeted to the pit of his stomach.

Only a day later, Edith wakes up.

Head in her lap now, Kaede stares out absentmindedly. Edith presses her fingers into his scalp, easing away the current headache.

Finally, he speaks, "The doctor said that these fainting episodes are common at your age."

Edith doesn't respond.

"That means this is gonna happen again. Again and again."

Edith is silent.

But it wouldn't be this way if you just rested, right? He doesn't say this, however, because he knows that this would be like accusing her. Which is hypocritical, knowing that he's the reason for her overworking.

With nothing more to add to his sudden train of words, he mentions, instead, "I saw those boxes."

By those boxes, he means the ones he'd seen in the living room. At first, they'd been empty, and he hadn't cared for them. But a few days later, while he'd paced a bit after waiting for the ambulance, he'd glimpsed the now-existing contents of those boxes.

Pictures, ornaments and books. 

All these things that were once on the shelves and tables.

His first thought is that they are to be sold. But then, he sees the family picture within one of the boxes. So of course, these aren't meant to be sold.

So now he's asking why they're there.

This time, he hears a heavy sigh.

"Did I tell you that someone's coming today?" she says, her hand finally leaving his head.

Kaede perks up, looking at her. He sees her gazing out the window. "Who is?"

"We weren't gonna meet," Edith continues. "But she happened to be in the city, so she thought to visit after hearing I got into the hospital. She's bringing someone else with her."

Kaede blinks at her, surprised. "She's driving here from the city? Is she the one you had a phone call with before this?"

Edith nods. "She should be here now."

"Who is she?"

Edith finally meets his gaze. "You ought to thank her when you meet her."

The boy furrows his brows. "Why?"

"Because she's the one who got you a scholarship, to a school in New York."

Kaede blinks, dumbfounded. "What?"

"We're moving out to New York in the next few weeks. You're going to attend school there. It's a private school."

Kaede hadn't even thought of words before the door behind him opens. Still stunned, he doesn't realise it at first until he hears a feminine voice.

"Is this your grandson?"

Kaede turns his head around.

A woman and a boy.

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The woman's eyes flit to his in scrutiny. Surprisingly, there isn't a single shred of unease or contempt in them, both of which Kaede had familiarised with in the many stares of this town's residents. Albeit, it's still a guarded gaze, cutting blades through the wall of composure he'd swiftly put up. But it's just that, a suspicious stare without a history to tell.

However, that look suddenly dissolves as a gentle smile comes forth, casting the expression before into a mere illusion inside his own head.

Kaede is dumbfounded—shocked, attention split between what his grandmother had just said and her.

And it splits again, as he looks at the boy behind her.

A handsome, blond boy who looks around his age and is obviously taller than him, even though Kaede himself isn't actually short. The stranger's green eyes stare curiously at him, the rest of his expression blank.

Kaede looks back at the woman, who appears older and he assumes is his mother. She's a beautiful person too, having a conventional, classic sort of beauty. Boldly browed and coffee-brown eyes. Mocha strands tied in a bun, with a few rebellious strands framing her narrow face. Somewhat accentuated cheekbones, body petite and thin, rouged lips.

Two attractive people, wearing fine clothes. Obviously not poor, perhaps rich. Most likely rich, when paired with their smooth, immaculate looks that can only be achieved by costly routines.

And for the first time in a long time, Kaede is struck with insecurity, remembering then that they, too, are currently assessing him. With his uncut hair, utterly uncombed, paired with his old clothing, shapeless on his lanky, underweight body—much because of unmeasured clothes due to him refusing to go out whenever his grandmother wanted to shop for more, and also a lack of a healthy, nourishing diet—he looks practically as good as the dirt beneath their glossy shoes.

Nervously, he lifts his legs and curls into his seat, attempting to appear small. His head is still spinning from what Edith had just told him, yet he cannot speak now. He turns his head away, rooting his gaze to his hands, clasped in his lap.

Feeling his headache return, Edith even pats Kaede's head, making it sting. "His name is Kaede." A pause. "You've gotten tall, Quentin."

Who the fuck is Quentin?

Silence, one Kaede senses to be of hesitance. Then, the boy says, "Hi, Edith." Kaede hears the sound of footsteps as Quentin goes over to sit opposite Kaede. He settles down, saying nothing more.

His head throbs, the boy's presence too confrontational by simply facing him. Who are you? Who are these people? What the fuck—?

A moment later, Quentin asks, "What happened?"

Hearing the conversation brush over him, Kaede quickly yanks out his earphones from his pocket, plugging them into his phone. But before he can shove them into his ears, Edith grabs his hand and stops him. Suppressing a cry, Kaede finally raises his stare, eyes quickly avoiding the one in front of him and sweeping to the woman instead.

She doesn't look at him, only acknowledging Edith. "I have to go outside for a moment. Excuse me."

Seeing her step out, Kaede feels his anxiety lessen by a tad. He turns back to his grandmother, before forcing himself to look at Quentin. Preferring a solid frown over an awkward, faltering smile, he frowns at the boy.

Quentin doesn't react, the line of his lips flat, but he does divert his eyes to Edith.

His grandmother looks at Kaede. "You two will be schoolmates."

Back again to that, to the subject she hasn't explained yet continues to pile things on. "What do you mean?" Kaede asks, purely questioning, without an ounce of disappointment or any other emotion that can be interpreted wrongly by the third party in the room.

Yet, out of the corner of his eye, he sees Quentin arch a brow, glancing at him.

He stiffens.

Edith pauses and looks at Quentin. "The school's name is Zarity Preparatory. You both are attending it." She smiles. "C'mon, say hi."

Quentin musters a smile. 

Kaede's frown deepens. "Hi."

After that, Kaede had left to let Quentin converse with his grandmother. He learns after they leave that his grandmother had taken care of Quentin once, at the orphanage where she used to work at. That's how she knows him. That's how she'd spoken to Sophia Rutherford, his guardian.

The woman he'd just met. The woman who'd sponsored him.

And Quentin, the boy who's supposed to become his friend.

Only at night, does he realise that they hadn't even exchanged contact numbers.