FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

_ Part 10 _

We followed her out of the cold and into the light. A kitchen sat in darkness at the opposite end of the narrow hallway, past the bare wooden staircase. The smell of boiled vegetables struck my nose. Below, my shoes met resistance from the springy carpet.

I glanced back at Sasha... I guess half hoping for some kind of support or guidance. All I did get was a glare that matched my sentiments.

We took the first door to our right, entering the living room I'd had a prelude to back outside. Their TV bellowed loud from the corner, watched closely by a young girl in an armchair opposite. Her long head fur, coloured a gentle orange, contrasted again the red and white of her face and muzzle... She couldn't have been any older than Luka; early teens at most. She... The dependent named in my report... My sister?

My steps slowed. I reached out, setting a paw on the doorframe. Sasha brushed past, asking, again I assume, if I was okay. His mouth moved, but I couldn't hear or process the words.

I managed another floating step into their living space. Willed myself into another. More of the room revealed itself... along with another young red panda. A boy... younger even than my sister. My legs stiffened. I planted them, hoping for their support as I cast eyes down at him, playing with his toy cars on the stained white carpet. A brother? A kid brother?

I lost track of Sasha, and everyone else aside for the moment. It was like I'd stumbled into a boxing ring, not a living room. One more solid hit, and I'd be down for the count.

Our host... my mother, gestured to the deep green couch set against the inside wall. "Have a seat."

"Thank you." Sasha directed me over to join him. I did, but not before I set eyes on her again. I'd left her reeling, clearly. Maybe even more so than myself. Her face had dropped, eyes glazed over. She looked like she'd seen a ghost, not a son.

"Can I..." Her paws were wringing. The blaring television prevented a silence. "A drink for either of you?"

"Please," I croaked, noticing every bump and scrape in my throat. "A water."

"A water is fine, also," added Sasha. "If it is okay."

"Of course." Her words carried no weight to them. She shuffled off towards the doorway we'd entered through almost... lost. Lost inside her own home. None of this made my anxiety outside appear misplaced. If anything, I became only too aware of how close to the surface I'd left it to simmer.

Sasha leaned over to whisper, "How you holding up? All good?"

"You keep asking me that."

"Because you keep looking like you ain't."

"That'd be because, no, I'm not."

I caught the youngest cub staring up at us from the carpet, more curious than scared. The girl had took notice, too. Sasha and I had outcompeted their toys and television to become the main attraction. The awkwardness intensified.

"Hi!" The boy offered a jolly smile, that little tail swaying.

"Uh... Hello." I gave him a wave from my lap. He sat there, waiting, wanting more... How could I follow that? "What..." My brother. Was this really my brother kneeling here? "What is your name?"

"James." He peered down at the red car beside his knee, then back to me. "What's yours?"

"It's... Kaz."

"Kaz?" I nodded. "That's a funny name. Don't know any other Kazes."

"It is short for Kazimir."

"Huh..." He gave that a good think, passing his smile to me as he answered, "Don't know any Kazimirs, either."

"Well, I don't know any Jameses back at home, either."

"What?" His white-fuzzed jaw dropped. "That's crazy! I got another James in my form group at school, and James Fisher, from Miss Warren's class."

"Maybe I was just in the wrong classes back in my school days--"

"I like your fur." His attention flashed to Sasha, tiny paw messing and tugging at the fur between his own ears. "Mum won't let me colour mine, even though Harry Skuse's mum did his blue, like he wanted. I want blue head fur, too."

A murmur came from over in the armchair. "Don't start this again."

"I'm not starting!"

"You are."

"Shush."

"You'd look stupid with blue fur."

"Holly, shush!"

She settled back, still more focused on her show than anything else... My sister... My brother. Over and over, that repeated in my head. A whole other family. My blood family. The glee and the guilt peaked all over again.

"...I don't know any Sashas, either."

My sense and focus returned to the room. James and Sasha had moved on between them. "You guys got weird names."

I noticed Sasha's brush lash. James didn't. At least, if he did, it didn't stop his cheeky grinning. "You like racing, yes?" Sasha pointed down to the pack of racing cars surrounding James.

"Yeah! A-Series. I watch all the races."

"Nice. I know more the racing from home, bu--"

"A-Series is the best." James nudged a few of them around his invisible track. "Moniz, he's the fastest. He's not Linvendian but I like him most still. Always wins." He blinked back up at us. "Who _are_you?"

Those three words astonished. Neither Sasha or I had an answer... or rather, neither of us one suitable to share.

"Sorry?" I said, balancing my wavering voice before giving it another try. "What was that you said?"

"How you know my mum?"

"Oh--"

"We are friends," Sasha stated, somehow with a straight face.

"Oh. 'K." James toyed with his cars some more, waiting for just the moment to catch me unaware. "Where you from? You talk funny."

Sasha's eyes crept my way. My question to field. "...From Velika."

James' tiny ears flicked and pricked. He sat up straighter, unhanding his cars and looking to his sister. "That's where mum used to live, right?"

She gave us all a quiet, impenetrable glare. I started to wonder, to fear, she might know more about me than me of her. "Have you come all the way here from Velika?"

My jaw locked. Again, truth or fiction clashed. Again, Sasha announced the winner.

"No. We live here in Arlone."

I shot him my own glare; one I hoped might be easier to read than Holly's. He just shrugged a shoulder at me. "But only for a short while." I put my paws together, forcing them to stay still in my lap. "We moved here from Velika... some months ago."

I hadn't finished. I wanted to go on and expand and explain, but my head hit some kinda full reset every few seconds, over and over.

My attention wandered off topic. All I could think about were these two... Two siblings I knew absolutely nothing about, right here, right in front of me. Here in my parents' house...

I wanted to know so, so much. My mind rattled through a list of questions, flooding in from some repository I never knew existed. But, while numerous, they were distant. All out of reach. The seismic shift of my world being torn to pieces and reassembled all at once left my head pounding, my heart aching. I wanted to burst into tears for reasons I couldn't comprehend. Those pale blue walls around us closed in. I couldn't understand a damn thing about anything. I think something inside me broke. I might have stopped breathing. My paw squeezed the arm of the couch. The doorway came into view. Only a few steps away...

"Do you both work with her?"

James' voice reeled me away from a swift exit. My whole body was pulsing. Shivering. "Uh..." My fur stood so far on end that I worried it might never settle down again. "What was that?"

"You said you were friends." His happy glow persisted. "Is it from working with my mum?"

"That is right, yes," Sasha replied, throwing another cursory glance my way. "We are new there. And here. This is how we have met."

Thank the gods for his quick tongue. Not often that it came as a positive... This could easily come back to bite us, but right then, in that instant, I was just happy to have someone with a functioning brain to help me through.

"Do ya like Arlone?" James' head cocked. "I like Arlone. I like riding the metro when we go into the city."

"I... Yes." I wasn't hard to catch Sasha's hesitation. "It is... very big. An exciting city."

"Okay..." Their... our mother called. Her return seemed to take an age from in here. "Waters."

She settled a small tray on the laminated wood table ahead. Three glasses sat atop it. She took some kind of juice drink for herself, leaving the two waters of Sasha and I. I'd be glad to get something in me to help clear my throat. If only it'd do the same for my head.

"Mum?" asked Holly. "You alright?"

"Hmm?" Her paws were trembling, eyes still thick with that same glaze from before. "Oh, yes. Yes, I'm fine. Yes." She settled into a matching armchair, facing her daughter and perpendicular to us. "Maybe you and James want to head off up to your room. Finishing watching your show there.

"Our TV isn't working right." Holly said."

"Ain't watching anyway," James blurted, making a point of moving his cars around. "Playing A-Series."

"Maybe you can play that upstairs, then." You could hear the impatience being bitten back. "Holly, I'm sure you can find something else to do. We're going to be talking about things here. Boring things."

I twitched... but I knew she was just making excuses. "Work things."

Her head whipped in my direction. She played through the shock. "Yes, that's right... Work things, like Kevin said.

"Kevin?" James' gaze shot up to me, as did Holly's from over in her chair. "Your name's Kaz."

"It is... Kevin is a nickname-- Another nickname." I barked internally, ordering myself to stay calm. Don't panic. Don't grab a fistful of the couch cushion. "A Linvendian nickname."

"Ooh." Back came his bright smile and swaying tail. "That's top."

"Top?"

"Yeah! It's bonny... cool--"

"I know that one." My cheeks creased in an all-too-fleeting moment. "I know cool."

"Go upstairs," their ma demanded. "Now."

Holly huffed and James had a moan, but they did comply. James took his time gathering each of his cars, bundling them up in his arms before heading to follow his sister out through the doorway.

"Bye," I called after them, throwing up a paw to wave without even realising. "Good to meet you."

No reply. Maybe they didn't hear. The drumming of footsteps on a creaky staircase filled the house. As fast as they began, they stopped, leaving the three of us alone to the quiet living room.

Jennifer... Their-- my mother... Everything about sitting here had become a challenge. I didn't even know what to call her. How to think of her.

_She_sat there, perched bolt upright in her chair. The juice in her paws sloshed with the constant turning of her glass. I knocked back a mouthful of water, hoping as much to occupy myself as to soothe my throat. Sasha meanwhile, caught between the both of us, had definitely started to resemble it. His water remained untouched, while he himself sank deeper into the back cushions.

"Kaz?" she inquired.

"Yes?" I replied, turning to her and realising all at once. "Oh... yeah. Kaz, Kazimir is my name. The name I was given."

"Your real name," Sasha mumbled into his chest, keeping to Velikan, thankfully.

"What was that?" Her focus swayed between the two of us. He didn't see fit to offer up a translation.

"The same, mostly." I kept the gap between thought and idea to a minimum. "He said my parents in Velika gave it to me."

Sasha's folded arms tightened, muzzle twisting with distaste. I caught it all from the corner of my eye. Hopefully the same didn't hold true for... Ma--? No... my mother. Jennifer.

"Are those your children?"

"Yes," she confirmed. Motionless. Emotionless.

"I-I didn't... I never knew you had two--"

"How did you find us?" That cut through everything. Like cannonfire. "Does your father know you're here?"

That hit like a suckerpunch to the gut. Back to the boxing ring. I'd have been staggering if not for my seat, searching for something to grab hold of. "I... How did I?" In fact, even while sitting, that last part still held true. "I found your address... No, he doesn't know either."

She shifted in her seat, nursing a sip of juice. The whole time, her eyes continued to flick in the direction of the front window. This was off. Everything was off. I don't know how I imagined this all going. I could understand shock, but the shortness, the tones of annoyance; I hadn't expected any of that. I hoped she might at least be... happier?

"How old are they?" Her teeth set as I asked that, visible even with her muzzle clamped shut. I didn't want to upset her... but I didn't want to let this go, either. I'd come so far. I had so much I needed to know and to say. "I didn't exp--"

"Holly's twelve," came the reply. An exchange of information, nothing more. "James just turned eight."

"Okay. They, uh... They remind me..." I got caught in the friction. Holly and James reminded me of how Nadia and Luka were around the time I left for university. Similar ages, too. I wanted to tell her that, but with all the walls I could sense her building between us, I'd begun to do the same. Talking about my family... felt wrong.

"You're older." Jennifer leaned over her juice glass, clutching it with both paws. "Older than I expected you to be."

"I'm twenty-two... Twenty-three in June. I finished university last summer. Got a degree... Computer Science." My stomach cramped. The fur of my paws pulled at my skin with how hard I rolled them over one another. Nothing I had to offer seemed enough to fire up a conversation. A real conversation. Sasha beside me watched on, paw wrapped thoughtfully around his muzzle. His eyes stayed locked to me, transfixed with a glare that said he saw my pain. My throat stang. Another sip of water, longer, did little to relieve it.

"You look like him." Still she favoured her drink over me. "Your father."

"Really?"

The faintest of nods followed. "Same shaped muzzle... softer, less pointed."

"Oh... Well, uh. Thank you."

I guess she didn't share in seeing that as a positive. The time came to clamp my grip around my own glass.

I needed more. The whole time leading up to this, right from the very start, I pictured... More. I pictured an exchange. Questions for me, and questions for my parents. I never doubted this'd be tough for everyone. Hard, if not borderline impossible... But I hadn't foreseen this; an excruciating silence. Invisible walls, tall and sturdy, put more between us than any geographical distance. I should have done more to get a number. Calling ahead would've helped for sure... I had to rescue this.

"T-Tell me... about yourself." I pulled at my shirt's collar, fighting its hem. The tightness remained. "How long have you lived here?"

"A while," she shot back. Punchy. Matter of fact. "Fifteen years or so."

"Right." I flashed a smile. A faint hope of breaking through these wall. "Here in this house?"

Her muzzle rose from the glass. Eyes locked to me. Wide. Accusing. "What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing."

"I've been back in Polcia two decades now."

"I... I know." Everything tensed. Jarring pain, sticking like pins all over. "I was two... when you left. Remember?"

Her drink clanked back down to the table. A paw rose to massage and mask her face. "This is a big shock."

"Yes... I understand. I am sorry, for not..." I stopped short of apologising fully for my lack of a phone call. That glaze had returned to her eyes. She sat vacant, moving only to glance out of the window again and again. How much of this was she really taking in?

This living room... was like living in a painting in progress. I'd entered, only seeing the couch, the TV, and my brother and sister. Now, after a good... however much time had passed, the room moved towards completion. I noticed the pictures set upon the mantel, hanging from the walls. I saw a mother, her children. Grandparents... and more. A whole extended family of red pandas... and I was no place anywhere.

"Oh." My mother burst into life. The couch cushions caught me. Sasha's, too.

She stood from her seat, padding fast to the window she'd graced with her attention for those last few gut-wrenching minutes. A low chugging rattled through the walls. The idling of an engine. She batted a curtain aside, peering out into the night. For a split-second, I caught a glimpse of the street. And of the car now gleam beneath the lamppost outside.

I expected some word. Some explanation. Nothing. My mother... Mrs. Tressider hurried out of the room, the scurry of paws audible on their way to the front door.

"Kaz," Sasha snapped, almost growling under his whisper. "What the hell's going on?"

"I don't know."

"This is so awkward... Are you sure she's your birth Ma?"

"It has to be!" I looked to the doorway. "Look at how she's acting... There's no faking that."

"I_am_ looking at how she's acting. Don't look like no kinda way a Ma should be treating a son."

My head twisted back to him while my shoulders pulled away. "It's complicated!"

He had no answer. My words beat his... If only they could beat the ones still swarming inside my head.

I saw the twitch in Sasha's ears. Felt mine do the same. They pointed to the opening door, then even more so to the faint voices seeping in from the hallway.

Hard as I tried, breath held, body still, I couldn't make out the words. At the very least, whatever was being said between my mother and her latest visitor sounded hurried. Tense.

I glanced back at Sasha, hoping his better ears could do a better job. His wrinkling muzzle suggested not.

She shuffled slowly back into the room. Those whispered mutterings had long ended. I expected her to rejoin us, to settle back down in her chair. Instead, she waited no more than two steps inside the doorway. Paws clasped, head sunk. Navel gazing.

My mouth opened to say... something. The thump of the front door closing ensured I'd not have to work that 'something' out.

Footsteps drew closer. A grunt and a grumble echoed. They did nothing for my already frazzled nerves, nor the jabbing ache in my stomach.

The steps arrived; their owner right there on the other side of the doorway. I watched, waited in anxious anticipation. A black paw wrapped itself around the doorframe.

"Are you coming?" My mother stared through the doorway, ears dipped, tail sweeping low behind her.

"Give me a second," came the man's answer. Low. Coarse. My father? "Taking off my shoes."

The muttering ended. That paw flexed, pulling the rest of its owner through into the living room. A skunk. That... raised questions.

He looked only at my mother, no mind paid to us over here on the couch. His big, white-streaked tail bobbed as he paced over to her side. "Are you sure?"

Her nod came rushed, frantic. They stood for a moment, simply watching each other. In turn, I watched them, still wondering who the hell this guy was, still wondering what was going on and what secrets they'd been sharing. It felt about time for me to say something... but that thought vanished the instant they wrapped arms around one another. There and then, the questions I had doubled in number.

I took pause, stepped back within myself. The pictures on the wall and on the shelves; I brought them back into focus. Like before, all I could see were a family of red pandas. Smiling, laughing... except for one picture on the mantel, right next to an antique-style carriage clock.

There stood my mother, showing what a smile really looked like from alongside her smartly-dressed daughter. The picture seemed to be from some kinda recital, judging by the violin in Holly's paw, and the crowded picture borders. James had a place there, too... as did this skunk, lingering at the very centre.

Another photo caught my eye, hanging from the wall above the television. Little James grinned away from the seat of a go-kart, decked out fully in a pair of racing overalls, helmet secure under his arm. I'd noticed that picture before, but now, somehow, the skunk across the room from me had invaded it, watching over James with a proud smile.

All these pictures... in so many, I saw this guy where he wasn't previously. Perhaps I'd only been searching for fur to match mine before...

Movement by the window caught the corner of my eye. They'd ended their embrace. My... This guy trotted over to the chair previous filled by Holly, settling down with a groan. I didn't so much as get a glance from my mother as she crept back towards her seat.

"So..." He clapped his paws together, shaking and swaying until his big tail jutted out from behind him. Whatever the skunk had to say, he made sure we'd have to wait to hear it. That same shock with which my mother had greeted us became his. "Jenny said we had visitors."

That was it? That was all he had to say? Five whole words, before sitting there silent. Watching. Just what had been said out there in the hall?

Once more, I sought out Sasha for backup; the sole person not utterly paralysed by the situation unfolding.

"Your Dad's a skunk?"

I shook my head, rejoining him in our mother tongue. "I don't think so. Not according to--"

"You'll have to forgive us." I snapped back to the chair beneath the window. "I don't speak..."

"Velikan," my mother confirmed.

"Right." That big tail flicked, raising. "We don't speak Velikan."

"Sorry," I muttered, tugging at the breast of my shirt. Another glass of water would've been great right about then. "Who are you?"

"I could ask the same," he parried.

"Of course." My fur began to itch, radiating out from my back to cover damn near every part of me. "My name is Kaz."

He glanced past me, searching out a second name.

"Sasha."

"Hello." His voice eased, gaze softened. That tail still twitched. "I'm Kieron."

Everything stopped. My head had to draw back, retrace... understand. "K-Kieron?"

"That's right."

Dizzy. The only word to describe that moment. Outside, I sat staring at the blue wall opposite. Inside, I scrambled to compose myself. Making even the shortest connection became a struggle. My thoughts, that raging stream of colour, did slow just enough for me to recall my paperwork. My birth certificate. Never mind skunk or red panda, everything I held in my possession listed 'Dylan' as my birth father's name.

"Kieron is my husband," my mother confirmed. "Of two years now."

"Three in the summer," he added, smiling for the very first time. It didn't last. "Jenny tells me you're her son."

Back came the dizziness. This permanent position on the back foot sucked more and more from me. "...Yes."

"That's certainly not a call I expected on my way to the stadium this evening."

I turned to her. She looked away. That water did take a while to arrive... "No. I expect not."

Everything had crumpled into an unmitigated, unrecognisable disaster. This wasn't my father. This was a stranger. I'd strolled straight into the home of a perfect stranger... that went for my mother, too. Maybe Sasha had a point about her acting.

"Dad?" Rushing steps hammered down the stairs. James appeared in the doorway a few seconds later, still full of oblivious cheer. "You're home!"

"What part of 'go upstairs' did you not understand?" his mother complained.

That brightness faded. Yet more pain inflicted by me.

"Come on." His father clapped paws to his thighs, standing to escort him back out again. "Let's head up to see that new game you were telling me about..." He stopped at the doorway, peering past us to his wife. "Are you okay for a moment?"

She managed a nod, paws clasped and held close. What a question. As if she were sat here with a threat. Fuck this guy.

His thick tail swept through the door behind him. Just the three of us again.

"So... James. He is your stepson?"

That felt forced. Prying. Borderline rude. At this point, I needed that. I needed answer. I hadn't come all this way to be treated like some unwelcome guest. Even if that sentiment slowly, surely made itself known.

"Yes," she confirmed, her paws squeezing ever tighter. "James is Kieron's son from his previous marriage. His mother is a red panda, too."

"Right." I rubbed at my cheek. A junior school biology lesson wasn't what I'd come for, either. "That makes sense."

"I'd prefer not to talk about that. Or her."

"Of course." What I'd have given for a knife for all that tension. I had to ask. It helped the report I'd received from the search agency make sense... or at least more sense. The one 'dependent' part was correct after all. As for my birth father... clearly he wasn't anywhere to be found here.

"I am sorry to ask." I sat up straighter, trying my damnedest to keep from staring. "Your former husband. My father..." She twitched just from the mention of him. Of us. "Have you seen--"

"I don't know where he is."

"Okay--"

"I haven't seen him for the best part of five years now." Her eyes focused in with an almost tangible heat. "He changed his number after we separated. Hasn't even tried to contact me, or make any attempt at seeing his daughter..."

I slumped into the spongy rear seat cushions. My mother's paw shook, fingers tapped the arm of her chair. What chance of getting the answers I wanted from her? What chance of not creating even more tension by persisting? Did I even have the option of doing anything but that?

"I only ask because of my..." Report. That wasn't a word I thought she'd appreciate hearing. "As far as I was aware, this was his listed address."

"I'm well aware of how long he's been gone," she hit back.

"Of course. I have no wish to say otherwise." Doubts rose over everything. Even my choice of Polcian. "Like I said, it was just that the information I--"

"We divorced six years ago; that's all you need to know. Whatever 'information' you've managed to dig up about us is clearly outdated."

Clearly. That smashed me like a gut check. It's all I could do not to keel over right here in my seat as the realisation dawned. I'd done all this, come all this way, gone through so much effort, expense and hardship, almost fought with Sasha... over a reality that ceased to be six years prior. Surely not... This just couldn't be!

Footsteps started down the stairs again, slower and heavier than before. My mother leaned over, finger extended. "I don't want to talk about Dylan, either. Neither me or Kieron want anything to do with digging up the past."

I just... glared. Watched her settle back and force her bitter frown into something that imitated a smile, ready for her husband. How could she say that to me? To me? I questioned if she knew exactly how much she'd said with that. Whatever the case, no way did I plan on accommodating either of them.

"How are they?" she asked as Kieron reentered. Only too happy to turn the attention away from me.

"They're fine." The skunk dropped back into his armchair, brushing a paw through the scruffed white fur atop his head. "James is playing on his console, and I managed to get Holly's TV working for her."

"Good."

"Speaking of TV, I'll have to get the game on soon. Don't think I'll make it to the stadium in time now."

"I'm sorry."

"Can't be helped."

That fleeting moment of warmth ended the second they remembered my presence here. The smiles went. Tension returned. My mother seemed happy to wallow in it. Kieron however, at the very least, wanted to avoid the silence.

"It was Kaz, wasn't it?"

"Yes. Short for Kazimir."

"What brings you here? All this way, from Velika."

Wasn't it obvious? Why in the name of the gods would I travel quarter of the way around the world to my birth parents' house? No sense in creating more friction. I rolled along with it. "I wanted to find out more about my family here."

"I see." He placed a finger to his cheek, more examining than watching me. "Quite a surprise to have you arrive, I must admit."

"Yes. I can imagine."

"No call ahead. No warning." "I had no number to call... no way of contacting. I did not intend for it to go this way." An understatement to end all understatements.

"Well..." He paused, eyes flicking around, finger rubbing up and down his cheek in visible thought. "I'm not your Dad, clearly..."

"Clearly."

"I_can_ try and answer questions for you, though." Kieron glanced across to his wife. "No sense in laying all the work at your mother's feet."

"Sure." Hard as I fought, I couldn't bite back from adding, "My questions are a lot of work, so it makes sense to share the load."

Sasha muffled a snort behind his paw. Either he didn't pick up on it, or the skunk overlooked my sarcasm. "What is it you want to know?"

Everything descended at once. I had the weight to bear, now. What was I did want to know? Well... everything. Of course, one must read between the lines. The question that they'd actually posed to me, deep beneath a venir of fake openness, was how much did I dare ask. Everything.

"I want to know why..."

Kieron's eyes narrowed, head tilted. "Why, what?"

He couldn't answer me this. I turned to his wife... my mother... watched until she had no choice but to acknowledge me. "I _need_to know why you came back here... Why you left me behind in Velika."

Her focus wandered, aimless. I had no intention of letting this lie.

"Why did you give me away?"

"That's not a fair question," Kieron complained.

"I think that it is." Sasha sat forward to throw his hat into the ring. "Very fair question."

The skunk's jaw clenched, shifting like rolling something over in his mouth.

"I'm not looking to blame," I said. "But I have to know. I think I deserve to know."

She squirmed away, avoiding me at all costs, still. I hated that it'd come to this; a battle of words as opposed to a polite conversation. Nor did I take any pleasure in knowing the person I was subjecting to this, in her own home, was my birth mother.

"Okay." She sighed, posture slumping in defeat. I'd driven her close to tears, I could tell. As could her husband.

"Love, you don't have to."

"I do." Her tail had tightened right around her waist. Again, remorse rose within me. "He's right. He deserves to know."

Kieron's distaste grew. His eyes came for me like daggers. Angry and accusing. Frankly, his opinion meant nothing to me.

"Dylan... your father and me. We both met in Zelengorod, whilst in school. The international school there."

International school? I turned to Sasha. He looked equally blank.

"I moved to Velika when I was fourteen, with the rest of my family." She'd moved her focus to her husband by now. This was for him as much as me... "My Dad went out there for work... working on the planning for the Polcian districts. Dylan's parents both went there for work, too."

This... wasn't what I'd wanted to know, but I didn't dare jump in. It had taken so much effort just to get this from her. I sat there silent, not moving, waiting and hoping for more.

"Everything started off... fine, at first. Normal. Kids stuff." She peered up at Kieron, as if waiting for an interruption. "We started dating when I was fifteen. He was in the year above, so just about to graduate high school. He took me along to the leavers' dance... One of our first proper dates together." Her eyes brightened. Like accessing these memories for the first time since their formation. "I'd barely started my first year of finishing school when I got the news..." Back came that glazed, tired glare. Ever inescapable. "I'll won't ever forget that morning at the clinic. Nor Dylan's reaction when I told him. All he could keep saying was... 'I'm not ready, I'm not ready'. I wasn't either... But there was no avoiding it."

Rain had started to fall outside; its patter against the window the only sound to be heard. Kieron chose to be the one to speak up. "I had no idea."

"It's not something I talk about." She reached out of sight for a tissue, dabbing at her eyes and nose. To be spoken about as a 'something'... cut deep. "Even then we didn't. We kept things quiet. Didn't mention it to anyone. But we couldn't avoid telling our parents forever. Much as we'd have liked to." A second tissue came required. The damp fur of her cheeks refused to dry. "Dylan's parents didn't want to know. They were so caught up in their perfect world, with their perfect jobs... their first response was that we should--" She sniffed, finally turning to me with muzzle hidden behind her tissue. "They didn't think having a child was for the best."

"Obviously you disagreed," muttered her husband, snarky and off-handed... or maybe that's just how I heard it. In any case, it required a lot of force to keep myself quiet.

"We both did, and I couldn't have. My parents have always been dead set against... Whichever option we decided to choose, we were going to fall out with one of our families." She forced a smile to me, red eyes, dry nose and all. "So, there it was... We were married in the following May, and in June... Kevin was born."

All eyes came my way. No cheers or congratulations or anything usually associated with talk of newborns.

"My parents were never happy about the situation, but they offered to help us out how they could. I'd quit finishing school by the end of my first semester. Being a year ahead, Dylan had planned on going to university, like his parents insisted, but... he was living with my family by that point, and he always insisted that he'd 'be his own man', make his own decisions. One of which was to graduate finishing school and start looking for work instead. To support us."

Hearing how your very existence had ruined lives and blown whole families apart wasn't an everyday occurance. How in the name of every god was a person to process that? I wanted to know the truth, to hear the full story... but not this. My paws were everywhere; unsettled and awkward. Just like the rest of me. I'd arrived at some bizarre halfway house between zoning out and tracking every sound in the house. Like an out of body experience. If only I could've taken my body out of this experience.

Sasha was the quietest I'd ever known him. I'd have given every penny to my name to know his thoughts as he listened on, joining me in finding out the story behind my earliest days.

"Things were okay at first," said my mother. Still, she spoke more to her husband than either Sasha or I. "We coped for the most part. Dylan got himself the occasional oddjob around the Polcian expat community. That helped us pay our way while searching for something more stable, and that was enough at first... but it wasn't a permanent fix. We used to talk about moving out, starting a family properly, in our own home. That wasn't easy in Velika. Never mind the size difference, neither of us spoke the language aside from the most basic phrases. There weren't many, if any jobs out there for a Polcian straight out of finishing school. Especially those that'd pay anything close to enough to support a family."

"So you just stayed?" Kieron sat forward, thick tail draped over his back almost entirely. "I could never picture your parents... What did you do next?"

"It took us a few more months of scraping by, but my Dad did eventually come through for us. Again. Once the building work on the new district had started, he managed to convince one of the site managers to take Dylan on as a labourer. It didn't pay much, but it was a world away from what he was bringing home before. Plus, by that time, I was fit enough to work a couple of mornings a week in my Dad's office, helping with filing and odd tasks while Mum looked after Kevin... We were all working, and working."

She didn't even... she couldn't even look at me. Like this 'Kevin' was some vague, far off concept, rather than the strange red panda sitting here on her sofa.

"Of course, back then, whatever went well never lasted. Things were great for the year or so we were at the site... but then the construction finished. The company hired to build the district cut down their workforce, and Dylan was one of the first to be made redundant. Without pay." She took pause, drew breath, continued to take us down lower. "It didn't take long for those problems to find their way home... Dylan couldn't find another job. Dad blamed him. He blamed Dad for the whole situation." A choke of a trace of a laugh set the stall for her closing statement. "Then to make matters even more tense, my Dad's contract ended. The job was done, and as always planned, he was set on returning back home to Linvendia."

"And you, too." My first words in what could've been a lifetime. Dry. Strangled.

"Like I said... Velika was no place for a teenaged married couple from Polcia. On top of that, as much as they didn't talk at the time, Dylan's family were also making plans to go back home to Ormby. We were all plotting our escapes. We were all heading home." My mother focused in on me. "All of us."

I kept my head steady on my shoulders and my paws still in my lap. I cleared my throat, and balanced my shallow voice as evenly as I could. "So what changed?"

"We weren't coping," she replied. Short and to the point. Her attention drifted, moving further and further from me... until it was like she'd left the house entirely. "Relations were strained all round, and not just over money." My mother came back to the room, blinking like a strobe. She studied everything from her lap to the walls around us, not knowing when or where to stop. "My dad and Dylan were at each other's throats daily over something or nothing. My mum... she's never admitted it, even to this day, but I know deep down she blamed me for it all. We spoke less and less. Found excuses not to be around each other. All while I tried to take care of a son. We were..." She raised a shaky, fragile paw to closed eyes, steadying it with a press of a finger to her muzzle bridge. "Everything was falling apart. There was no other choice in the end. I-It was all just too much."

"So you gave me up. Just like that."

"No." Her insistence didn't win me over. I don't think it won her, either. "We... I put you into care because I couldn't take care of you."

"Really?" That snapped enough to attract her full attention. "And not because you were running away to Polcia?"

"N-No, not at all--"

"After all that time, you just gave in."

"Hey," Kieron rumbled. "Listen--"

Fuck him. "Because that's how it sounds."

"I put you into care because living like that wasn't fair on you!" She collapsed into herself, burying her pained, weary face into her paws. "I was trying to do the best for you. For all of us."

I could have screamed. I could have shouted. I could have caused no end of chaos with all the anger and sorrow eager and begging for release. But why? What would it have achieved? I couldn't turn back time. Nothing we do is ever undone, not completely. At least that's what my granddad used to say. My real... my adopted granddad... A third ingredient dropped into the shambolic mix I called a mind: confusion.

"You stayed together, though." My own eyes were burning. Dampening. "You and Dylan... even after you gave me away."

"Barely," she choked. "After we came back... we didn't stay with my parents long. He managed to scratch together work and we got ourselves into support housing here in the South End. It was a struggle for years and years and I wouldn't have wanted to put a child through that. I--" her voice shattered into a screech. "It was a mistake..." A burst of tears flooded down her cheeks. "So many mistakes."

Kieron jumped from his chair, rushing over to comfort his sobbing wife. He took her paw in his, pulled her close with the other and settled his muzzle between her splayed out ears. "It's fine... Don't cry."

"I just tried to do what was best."

"I know."

"I didn't mean to hurt--"

"Shh, I know. It's all okay. We're a family, now." He stole a look at me from their soothing hold. "That's all that matters."

Hearing all that, knowing... How in the hell did it leave me so... empty? None of this had helped me to feel better. Anger and sorrow morphed to become a deep, cavernous pit of regret, pulling in everything else. All I could process was how much of a burden I'd been. How much hurt I'd caused.

"I hope you've found what you wanted," Kieron spat, muzzle creased.

I hadn't. I'd wanted so much more than this. "I'd hoped to get to know... my parents a little mo--"

"Now's a bad time."

"I'm talking to my mother."

"And I'm talking to you."

"I'm gonna thump him in a minute," Sasha growled. "Swear to the gods."

"Speak Polcian--"

"Stop it," I cried, leaning forward with eyes only for my birth mother. "I-I'm sorry. I just, I just don't know... I'm trying to understand and know more, and I would really like... Maybe we could, I don't know, Maybe we could keep in touch?"

"That..." Her tight tail didn't loosen. Her sore eyes only dampened. "That's probably not for the best."

My blood ran cold. A brutal jolt pierced my chest, cleaved my heart and left me to shrivel and die. A stone rose into my throat, cutting off air, leaving me gasping in a hopeless rush for words.

"Mum, Dad?" I heard James calling through the ringing in my head.

"What's going on?" His sister joined in. Holly... My mother, Jennifer's other... only child.

"It's fine!" Their father bellowed, scurrying away towards the door. "Stay up there."

"What's happening!?"

"Nothing, just..." Kieron threw his paws to his head, glaring at me as if preparing to give both barrels. Instead, he rushed out to reassured them from the hallway. "Mum's just having a talk with this man here. It's all okay, I promise..."

"I'm glad you're okay," she said, trembling. "That you're doing well in Velika..."

How would she know? She'd asked nothing about me--

"I'd have preferred that you hadn't come."

Another fracture to my chest. Painful enough to grow into a fissure that I swear damn near tore me in two. "But--"

"How can you say this?" snapped Sasha. "He has come thousands of miles, all to see you. Even after you have left him behind."

"I left no-one behind," she shrieked. "I did what was best! Who are you to come here--?"

"Best for you, perhaps."

"How dare--"

Kieron charged back in. "You come into our house and talk to my wife like that?" His muted voice did little to hide his snarl-inducing anger. I'd have been more concerned if I weren't bleeding out on the couch. "Who in the hell do you think you are?"

Sasha sprung from his seat to meet him head on. "Do I speak to you? No." He threw a fierce arm towards Kieron's wife. "She left Kaz in a home... an orphanage. How is this best?"

"They took care of him when I couldn't," she yelped. "You have no right to talk about this. No right at all. You weren't even there!"

My legs kicked out. I threw myself onto my feet. "Neither were you!"

Everyone went quiet. At last. "You weren't there... none of you were." Something inside me... wore out. Loosened and snapped. I hung half aware... My turn to speak.

"You weren't there to go through what I did. A room fit for twelve that housed double that at least. You never had to watch the people you got close to, became friends with, suddenly leave without trace because they found a home. I... I would cry myself to sleep most nights, curled up on a mattress on the floor because the bigger boys_always_ claimed the beds. Every time, I wondered why. Why did Ma and Dad leave me." The stone in my throat grew into a boulder. The whole room filled with water. It was a battle, a war to continue. "Wondering... hoping they might come back."

"How can you even remember that?" Kieron's voice sounded out as barely a gasp. "At that age."

"Don't worry." The storm inside cleared the blockade. "I was there more than long enough for it to leave an impression. Much more than just a month or two." Breathing still came hard. The rhythm skewed. "They put me in House 5... I slept in Bedroom 3... Right up until my parents..." All the force of my being went into those two words. They stang my throat, and gods willing, their ears, too. "Before my Ma and Dad came to take me home."

Sobbing sounded clear as anything, but not from me, nor anyone else here... It came from outside. Upstairs. That dark bedroom returned, full of sad, lonely cubs trying to settle to sleep. Autopilot kicked in. "Back then, they just numbered everything. Easier, I suppose. A hangover from before the war, and all the smaller orphans they had to cope with after the Blueshirts had their way..." What followed came with a jolt of my neck and the stab of a finger. "So do not tell me what I can and cannot remember. You cannot even begin to imagine."

The sobbing upstairs turned to bawling. James' mumbled words barely registered. This could never be undone, not completely.

"I think you two have outstayed your welcome." Kieron stood upright. A head's height taller. Shoulders forward, back arched. Ready to go.

"I think so, too."

"You shouldn't have come," my so-called mother whined. Her tears flowed and flowed. The cold air of the room protected me. "I'm sorry."

"Leave," her husband hissed. "Now."

Everything exploded in all dimensions. How to fit this all together again? Twenty years on, abandoned all over again. I wanted so much to scream, to shout, to bellow and just let them know in no uncertain terms exactly what I thought of them both. But words wouldn't come. No matter how hard I tried, I stood silent in the middle of their living room. My voice had left me, too. The perfect opening for Sasha... I thought.

He crept up from the couch, taking his time in standing. The whole time... he just watched me. Not saying a word. More shock to an overwhelmed system.

One last chance to set eyes on Mrs. Tressider... or whatever name she'd taken from the skunk giving us our marching orders. She reached for one last tissue as Sasha and I slipped out into the hallway. My eyes wandered. Scanned everything. Nothing processed. Not until two small red pandas appeared behind the bannister spindles, curled up and snivelling. Like ghosts. I waved them goodbye.

The drizzle and chill of the night air struck hard. The warmth of the house already a distant memory. So much work, so much planning. All done for so little. This'd ended before it'd even begun.

"Do not touch me," Sasha snapped from behind; his moment of pacifism long gone. "I mean it. Do not touch--"

"Get out of here, or I'm calling the police," Kieron threatened from the front step.

"Go and fuck yourself."

The door slammed shut. I'd made it halfway down the front path already.

"Kaz!" Sasha's chasing steps thumped closer.

The gate ahead seemed to sway. Drunk without the fun of drinking. I hoped to be sober soon.

"Hey!" Sasha's paw took my shoulder. He jumped ahead, wide-eyed, pacing backwards with me. His other paw pressed my cheek. "Are you okay?"

How many times had I heard that? No. I wasn't. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to be sick. All at once. "I'm fine."

"Man..." He took charge of unlocking the gate. We stepped out onto the street pavement together. "You wanna... Hey, I'm here, okay--?"

"It's fine." I chose a direction. Walked. "If she doesn't want to know me, it's fine."

Sasha took his paw from my face. Set it in his bright red head fur. He looked back to the house, eyes watering. Probably from the wind.

"At least I know now, right?"

"Y-Yeah." He turned to walk with me. He needed to to keep up. "Exactly.

Light turned to dark turned to light under the streetlamps. "I didn't need her before, and I don't need her now."

"Yeah, it's--"

"If she wants to be that way, fuck her, right?"

"Kaz, slow down."

"Fuck her, and her dick of a husband. And fuck Dylan, too. Wherever the hell he is."

I couldn't see the house any more. The rain glistened from the soulless white light above. My legs gave out, but not from the running. A crushing, crippling weight slammed down upon every fibre of my frame. I stumbled. Legs buckled. I slowed my descent with a flailing paw to the garden wall beside me.

"Kaz!" Sasha caught up with me. Caught me. "Come on..."

We both sank together. My jacket scraped the brickwork. The damp pavement soaked the the seat of my jeans. Grief drenched and warmed my muzzle. "Why doesn't she care?"

His eyes stayed with me. His ears splayed while the rain matted brown and red fur alike. "I'm sorry, man."

A paw ripped through me. Grabbed my heart. Squeezed and stole it from my chest. Eyes wrenched shut, muzzle lifted to the heavens, I wailed out until my lungs near collapsed, until the houses caught and echoed my grief. Heat poured down my face without end, scorching every strand of fur it touched.

"You're okay." Sasha's arm curled around my shoulders. Eased me in down here on the wet concrete. His muzzle rested between my ears. I clung tight to his jacket. His chest absorbed everything I had to give. "...You're okay, man. I promise."