2011

Coat (I had an Afghan coat back in the 70s and into the 80s, my pride and joy, but when damp they stunk the place out 🤣  )

Chapter 3 - Mrs Jenkins House    The car pulled up outside a small semi-detached house with a garden full of soggy leaves and a faded trampoline leaning against the fence. The sky was grey and heavy, matching the way my stomach felt.   Leanne squeezed my shoulder gently as she opened the door.   “Here we are, sweetheart. Mrs Jenkins is lovely. You’ll like her.”   I didn’t know if I would. I didn’t know anything anymore.   The house looked too normal. Too tidy. Too warm. It felt like stepping into a different world.   A woman opened the front door before we even reached it. Short, curly brown hair. Soft eyes. A warm jumper with flour dust on it, like she’d been baking. She didn’t rush over. She didn’t gasp or make the face grown-ups make when they see something sad.   She just smiled.   “Hello, Alex. I’m Mrs Jenkins. I’m very glad you’re here.”   Her voice was calm, steady, like she’d practiced being gentle for years.   I managed a small nod, clutching my plastic bag of pull-ups and the thin blanket the police had wrapped around me. My clothes were too big—borrowed joggers, an oversized T-shirt—so I bunched them in one hand to keep them from sliding down.   “Come in, love. It’s warm in the hallway; I put the heating on when they called.”   Inside, the house smelled like washing powder and bread. Like something clean. Something normal.   I stood there quietly while Mrs Jenkins spoke softly with Leanne. They talked in low voices, but I still heard words like *malnourished*, *neglect*, *inconsistent care*, *dangerous environment*. Words adults used so kids wouldn’t understand. But I understood enough.   After a moment, Leanne crouched down to my height.   “I have to go now, Alex. Mrs Jenkins will look after you. I’ll check on you tomorrow, okay?”   The panic rose immediately in my throat—sharp and hot—but Mrs Jenkins stepped forward slowly.   “You’ll be all right, love. I’ll take good care of you.”   I wasn’t used to adults sounding sure.   Leanne gave me one last smile and then left, the door clicking shut behind her.   Mrs Jenkins waited a few seconds before speaking, like she was giving me space to breathe.   “Let’s get you settled, shall we? The other children are still at school. They’ll be home after three.”   I followed her up the stairs, gripping the wooden bannister. The carpet was soft, clean, not full of dog hair or crumbs. The upstairs hallway had drawings pinned to the walls, dinosaurs, rainbows, something that looked like a very enthusiastic stick person.   Mrs Jenkins nodded toward an open door.   “This will be your room, Alex. Well, your room and Luke’s. He’s nine. A lovely boy. Kind. Thoughtful. And he’s very excited to meet you.”   The room felt lived-in but cosy. A bunk bed stood against the wall, the top bunk covered in a duvet with rockets on it. The bottom bunk had a faded duvet with footballs. Toys were neatly stored in boxes. Clothes were folded in a small chest of drawers. A nightlight shaped like a fox glowed softly in the corner.   It didn’t look like a place Alex belonged. Not yet.   Mrs Jenkins put her hands on her hips thoughtfully.   “These clothes won’t do, will they?” she said gently. “Lucky for us, Luke never throws anything away. Let’s see what we can find.”   She opened the chest of drawers and pulled out a stack of neatly folded clothes, T-shirts with cartoon dinosaurs, soft joggers, even a jumper with a small embroidered spaceship.   “How about these? They should fit you nicely.”   She set them on the bed and then noticed the plastic bag of pull-ups in my hand.   “Let me find a place for those.” Her voice didn’t change. She didn’t whisper. She didn’t frown.   She simply took the bag and placed it in one of the drawers beside the bed.   “There. Easy to reach. If you need one, you don’t have to ask, just help yourself. And if you ever want help, you can always come to me. No embarrassment here, all right?”   I nodded, my throat too tight to speak.   She smiled warmly.   “You can get changed in here, love. The bathroom’s just down the hall. I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.”   When she left, the room felt too quiet.   I changed slowly, pulling on Luke’s soft joggers and the dinosaur T-shirt. Everything smelled clean. Warm. Safe.   I stood there a long time, listening to the faint sounds from downstairs, the clatter of a pan, the hum of the oven, Mrs Jenkins softly humming to herself.   I didn’t know if I belonged here. I didn’t know if I deserved it.   But for the first time in a long while, my pull-up was dry. I wasn’t cold. I wasn’t alone.   At 3:25, I heard voices—laughing, stomping, the front door banging open, and a boy’s excited shout:   “Is he here yet?!”   Luke.   Mrs Jenkins called up the stairs, “Alex, love—would you like to come say hello?”   My heart thumped hard.   Alex hovered nervously at the top of the stairs as the noise from below grew louder.   Children’s voices—plural. He wasn’t used to that.   At home, noise meant visitors, arguments, or drunk laughter drifting through thin walls. Noise meant trouble.   Here, it sounded… happy? Messy, but in a good way?   The first voice he recognised was Mrs Jenkins’.   “All right, shoes off—yes, even you, Mason. I can see mud already. Honestly, I should’ve put a mop by the door.”   A girl giggled. Then a boy groaned dramatically. Another child thudded into something, then yelled “I’m okay!”   Alex flinched.   Mrs Jenkins looked up the stairs. “Alex? Ready to come say hello, love?”   He swallowed hard.   Before he could answer, a boy’s head popped around the corner.   Luke.   Brown hair sticking up like he’d run the whole way home. School uniform untucked. Green backpack half-open. A grin too big for his face.   “You’re Alex, right? I’m Luke.”   He spoke like this wasn’t scary at all.   Alex nodded, clutching the bannister.   Luke didn’t miss the fear.   “You don’t have to come down if you don’t want to yet,” he said quietly. “It’s loud when we all get home. First days are a lot.”   It surprised Alex—how gentle his voice could be.   Luke stepped up two stairs and held out his hand, not to grab, just to show.   “We can go meet them together. They’re nice. Well… mostly Mason is loud, but he’s six. He’s loud about everything.”   Alex gave a tiny, frightened smile.   Luke took that as a yes and led him downstairs and into the front room.   The living room felt too full—backpacks on the sofa, shoes in a chaotic pile, and two younger boys squabbling over a dinosaur toy.   Mrs Jenkins clapped once. “Boys, pause please—we have someone new today.”   The two six-year-olds stuck their heads around the edge of the couch.   Mason had freckles and an expression like everything in life was a competition. Liam had wide eyes and clutched a stuffed tiger to his chest.   A girl, around Alex’s age, stepped forward. Sophia. Brown plaits. A badge-covered schoolbag. A pink cast on her left arm.   “Hi,” she said softly. “I’m Sophia.”   Alex froze.   Too many faces. Too many names. Too many eyes looking at him.   He stepped back instinctively, bumping into Luke.   Luke leaned down slightly and whispered, “It’s okay. You don’t have to talk. They just want to see you.”   Mrs Jenkins stepped in smoothly.   “All right, everyone—give Alex some space. He’s had a big day.”   The others nodded and scattered—Mason to the dinosaur battle, Liam to his stuffed toy, Sophia to her craft box. The room returned to soft chaos.   Alex exhaled shakily. --- Luke nudged him gently toward the stairs.   “Come on. Our room’s quieter. You can sit on my bed if you want.”   In the bedroom, Luke plopped onto the bottom bunk and patted the top bunk like an introduction.   “That one’s yours. I hope you like heights.”   Alex blinked. “…Heights?”   Luke laughed. “You don’t have to sleep up there if you don’t want. We can swap. I used to be scared of ladders.” He scratched his cheek. “Okay… I’m still kinda scared of ladders.”   Alex let out a tiny breath—almost a laugh.   Luke sat cross-legged. “So… do you like drawing? I’ve got pens. Or dinosaurs? We’ve got loads of dinosaur toys because Mason steals them from school.” He lowered his voice. “We pretend we don’t know.”   Alex sat on the edge of the bottom bunk, staring at his hands.   “I don’t… really know,” he whispered. “I didn’t… do much. At home.”   Luke’s expression softened with the kind of understanding you can’t teach.   “That’s okay,” he said simply. “You can try stuff here. Nobody’s gonna make fun of you.”   Alex’s face tightened—like he wasn’t sure he believed that. But he didn’t pull away when Luke kicked a soft football toward him.   They sat quietly for a bit. Alex let his legs swing. Luke hummed some tune he’d heard on the radio.   It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t scary. --- Dinner Time   Mrs Jenkins called up the stairs.   “Boys! Dinner’s ready!”   Luke jumped up immediately. “You’ll like her cooking. It’s almost always good. Unless she makes fish pie. Don’t eat the fish pie.”   Alex followed him down slowly.   The dining table was set with mismatched plates and colourful cups. Steam rose from a pot of spaghetti bolognese. There was grated cheese in a bowl and garlic bread wrapped in foil.   Alex hesitated at the doorway.   Sophia smiled gently when she saw him. Mason waved a spoon dramatically. Liam scooted over to make an empty space.   Mrs Jenkins nodded to the empty chair beside Luke.   “That one’s yours, sweetheart.”   Alex slipped into the seat, small and unsure.   Luke bumped his shoulder lightly.   “You’re doing good,” he whispered.   And for the first time that day— for the first time in what felt like forever—   Alex believed him

Alice, honey. No one's been laughing at you. All reactions have been either complete shock or your mother trying to control you.

Chapter Thirteen: Celebration Kang, at the head of the family procession, made an announcement in Goryeoan to a cheering group while Joomi and Adam were still in the hall. There wasn’t enough time for either her or Boja to translate, as the grandparents parted to the sides to reveal a blushing, beaming Joomi, who bowed to the moderate gathering of people in the room. Adam blinked in confusion, knowing there were far more people around than there had been before them, but he realized it was close family as Joomi began the introductions after setting his ceremonial book with the stack of gifts on a table. She started with Geon, who was her half-brother, who wore a similar brooding expression to Kang and styled himself similarly. He was married to Byal, a reserved but friendly woman, who anxiously watched over their youngest, Joon, who was three. His sister, Sisi, was the girl they had heard complaining earlier in the house: the sassy six-year-old who needed to have things her way. Despite her parents telling her his name twice, she greeted Adam only as “baby”; he made a note to avoid her. Next was her half-sister, Khee Park, who was married to an extraordinarily friendly man named Sung. Through him, Adam learned that most of the family knew English, but didn’t speak it for a “variety of reasons”, which his new uncle said with a wink and a head toss towards Kang. In contrast to Sung’s booming charisma, Khee was painfully shy and quiet, and kept herself busy with her actual infant, Min. Then came Kang’s brothers: Bom, who was fat and jolly, Shik, who was tall, slender, and sarcastic, and the youngest, Mung, who was the strong and silent type. All but Mung had wives who were barely present, as they had all volunteered to help Chana with the food buffet they were setting out for the greater crowd outside. “Abeoji-nim!” Sung boomed cheerfully once he noticed the introductions were done, turning towards Kang, who was speaking quietly with his youngest brother, Mung. Khee shot her husband a mortified look as he asked in English, “Might we honor Ma Adam by speaking English tonight?” Adam smiled at the man, already liking him, though the silence that followed his bold question made him wonder if he was long for this world. Kang raised an eyebrow at him while Mung glared. “Great idea, Sung. I could practice my English insults on you,” Shik dryly added, his voice slightly nasal. Sung pointed a finger gun at him in approval and appreciation. “Mom would be pleased our lessons weren’t going to waste,” Bom added with a chuckle as his wife slapped his hand away from the food, though he snuck a meatball as soon as she turned her back. “Fine,” Kang replied in English after a brief sneer, throwing his hand curtly in the air in tacit approval. “Thank you, father,” Joomi bowed her head in appreciation, which she followed by nodding to those who chimed in. “Thank you,” Adam added to Kang, but he chose to say in Goryeoan. Bom gave a joyous cry from across the room, causing many in the room to nod or clap in response, and Kang’s mouth twitched before he nodded in approval. He then lifted his arm and called for Chana, directing her in his native tongue, and she eagerly nodded, grabbing a gift bag off the table and shuffling over to him. “Everything else will arrive tomorrow,” Kang said to Joomi, his English thick but perfectly articulated. His eyes fell to the blonde as Chana handed him the gift bag. “This is just for Adam.” Adam blinked in surprise as he took the bag gently from Chana, who looked elated. The room fell quiet as everyone watched; Adam hesitated, his eyes scanning the room anxiously. He shifted in Joomi’s arms and took in a deep breath as quietly as possible, preparing for this to be something humiliating. Something to remind him of why he was here and who made it happen. He put his hand in the bag and felt something fuzzy, and he grabbed hold of it, guessing it was the elephant backpack. He looked to Kang briefly before shaking the contents and letting the empty bag fall to the ground. Joomi gasped. Adam blinked at the stuffed tiger in his hand, his mouth gaping in surprise. It was brand new, still had a tag on, and was extremely soft and squishy. His eyes flashed to Chana and Kang, both of whom smiled (though admittedly Kang’s was slight), and Adam looked up to Joomi. “It’s Boja!” he exclaimed, genuinely thrilled it wasn’t something much worse. The room erupted. Joomi gushed as she hugged him, and Chana stepped forward to join. Kang placed a hand on Adam’s back in place of a hug, and the blonde thanked him in Goryeoan again as he brought the stuffed tiger into his arms. “Well, now that mother and father have started,” Byal considered as she looked to Geon for approval while holding her three-year-old’s arm, who was struggling against her to pet the real Boja for the hundredth time. Geon nodded, tapping the top of his daughter’s head, and spoke to her in Goryeoan. Kang, who had begun making his way towards the bar, snapped his head towards his son and not so politely reminded him, “English.” Geon stiffened and nodded. “Get your new cousin’s gift, Sisi,” he grumbled down to her, and she beamed, running over to the table of gifts. Adam watched as the rest of the room waited, and he wondered if there was a pecking order they were silently obeying. “Sit, sit!” Bom declared as he ushered her to the two chairs in the center of the room. Adam recalled these from his tour, noting they had looked like thrones. He thought they were awkwardly placed in the center of the room, but as Joomi sat and adjusted him in her lap, he realized they were facing the door. He suspected he was in for a long night. The little girl ran up to them and shoved the gift bag into Adam’s face. “Here, baby!” the little girl announced, and her mother let out a small groan at her, but her attention was pulled as her son face planted into the ground in protest of his confinement. “Thank you, Sisi,” Joomi softly replied on his behalf without skipping a beat, and took the handles of the gift. Boja appeared and sat to Joomi’s left, and Adam grinned at him, pointing to the stuffed animal; his ear flicked. “Oh, thank you!” Joomi bubbled as she laid the baby blue blanket on Adam’s lap. He looked down where she pointed to the embroidery in Goryeoan. He frowned, pointing to the one he recognized. “That’s Ma,” he declared more to himself than anything, but he paused as praise and awe-struck sounds circled them. He cleared his throat uncomfortably and pointed to the second one, looking up at his mother. “That’s your name,” she explained as she traced her fingers over the character. “It says Ah-dahm.” He smiled as he traced his own finger over the embroidered character, mouthing the way she pronounced his name. It was definitely a baby blanket – one side was soft with his name, and the other side was smoother, with cutesy pictures of mythical animals, like dragons and griffons. All the same, the personal touch elevated it beyond the typical Amazonian baby gift. After a beat, he looked to Geon, who gestured his head to his wife. “Thank you,” Adam gushed, touched. “Welcome to the family, dear,” she smiled in reply, before the eye roll and exhaustion of dealing with her son set back in. Geon tapped his sister’s shoulder and pointed to the bag. “One more thing, nuna,” he noted to her, and she reached in, pulling out a receipt. “Oh, Geon,” she marveled, putting a hand on her chest as she looked to him. “This is too kind.” “Don’t worry,” he tossed her a grin as he wrestled with an annoyed tone, slipping a hand into his pocket. “Father made sure to outdo me.” They shared a laugh. Adam sat up straighter to look at the receipt, but quickly realized he wouldn’t be able to read it anyway. He frowned as his stomach let out a loud growl, and he realized he hadn’t eaten all day. He paused, reflecting momentarily about how this was still the same day… that he had awoken in a normal bed, and… He grimaced, pushing the dizzying thoughts aside, and grabbed his mother’s dress, tugging it for her attention. “I’m hungry,” he whispered to her, and she gasped after a thought, having the same realization he did. Sung, who had approached for his and Khee’s turn to give their gifts, sprang into action to grab a smattering of food. While Khee and Joomi spoke, Adam watched Min; he estimated she was at least a year old, and he guessed that if they stood next to each other, she might come up to his shoulders. She was looking around, wide-eyed and taking in her surroundings in silence, and he wondered how often he had looked like that today. “Here ya go, little guy!” Sung set the plate on the blonde’s lap with a big grin. He nodded in appreciation but couldn’t wait to be more polite; his stomach roared the second the smell of food was within range, and he immediately grabbed the small bacon-wrapped somethings and stuffed them in his mouth. Uncle Sung cackled a bit too much. His and Khee’s gifts were a full set of infantile dishware, utensils, bibs, bottles, and pacifiers, which Adam thanked them for out of politeness, but focused on eating. Though he did appreciate the animal theme that the family was going with… There were worse themes out there. Joomi let him select the color of the pacifier to clip to him (red), winked, and whispered as she attached it, “Hopefully socks, soon.” He chuckled as he grabbed the last thing on the plate, and her eyes widened; she placed her hand on top of his and laughed, “Oh no-no, that’s Joomi-spicy.” “Oh,” Adam snorted, and they both shared a laugh that quickly burned out as they stared at each other. “Or Mommy-spicy,” she corrected herself, her eyes dropping in thought. Adam blinked in surprise as he watched what he perceived to be sadness leak into her demeanor. And he didn’t like it. Call it emotional exhaustion, call it the ceremonial conditioning, or trauma bonding … or a direct response to the kindness the family had shown him so far, but he felt compelled to recover the moment. He maneuvered his hand out from underneath hers and lifted the spicy rice cake to her mouth. “Then Mommy should eat it,” he offered quietly. In the blink of an eye, her expression shifted from sad to surprised to touched. She leaned forward and ate the cake from his hand, and they shared a smile. “Ready?” Kang interrupted as he approached the empty chair to her right, a half-consumed highball of whisky in his hand. Joomi took in a deep breath as she looked towards the doors, then down to Adam. “We have to greet our guests,” she explained as she gestured to the doors, and the blonde nodded, pulling the blanket up a little more and adjusting the stuffed tiger more comfortably. Kang sat in the chair and gave a nod to Boja, whose eyes flashed, and the center two doors folded into the next, then the next, until all eight were tucked away to the sides to open the communal house to the public. Adam’s blue eyes widened at the size of the crowd. It was a massive collection of people. As expected, a significant portion of them were suited individuals who were covered to their wrists and ankles, despite the warmish weather. The other larger portion of the crowd appeared to be extended family and friends, whose formality of dress ranged drastically, and the smallest, but surprising, representation was foreigners, all of whom wore suits. Painfully, one at a time, guests would approach to congratulate the family, and the family had to thank and welcome them. The members of the family flanking the seats would usher the well-wishers along, directing them to place their gifts on the table and inviting them to the food and drink. They got to rotate duties; Sung, Geon, and Bom were the most active, but they could step away and swap with others as desired. Kang, Joomi, and Adam could not, hence why they were seated. They were the reason for the guests’ appearance, so it was expected that they would personally greet each one. Adam realized that if Joomi did not explain their connection to the family, they worked for Kang. This was long after Yoon, Hyun, and Zhang (who hadn’t brought Jeong, much to the blonde’s relief) had congratulated them, each wearing their own brand of grins when they made eye contact with him. Of the group that weren’t hiding tattoos, he met childhood friends of family members, distant family members that lived nearby who passed on congratulations and apologies on behalf of those who lived farther, and professional associates like the family’s lawyer, who looked like he had gone prematurely grey from stress. More surprising were the high-ranking government officials; notably in this group were several legislative members who accompanied the mayor of Hanseong. Ten minutes after that introduction, they were still only halfway through the line. Without a phone or any clock in his view, and both Joomi and Kang were disciplined enough not to check the time, Adam was left to estimate they had already spent at minimum a half hour welcoming guests, if not forty-five minutes. As he craned his neck to look at the length of the line, it was still uncomfortably long, which did nothing to help his creeping realization that he needed to pee. He knew better than to ask to use the bathroom with Kang sitting there, but he still couldn’t rationalize pissing himself in public, no matter how hidden his diaper was. He started moving around on his mother’s lap, trying to find the optimal sitting position to put the least amount of pressure on his bladder. She tried to anticipate his movements, keeping still or shifting with him, while maintaining composure and focus on the guests. Kang asked his daughter a question in Goryeoan, and Adam figured that was because it was about him; he could change languages on a whim, of course. She nodded and leaned down to whisper to Adam, “Do you need a break?” He pressed his lips together and looked between her and Kang; neither gave any indication of what a break would mean. He doubted they would ask the guests to wait, so it would likely just be him taking the break … he gripped the stuffed tiger as he wrestled with the choice: take a break and appear the fussy baby, or literally be a baby by publicly wetting a diaper. He let his stubbornness flourish, convincing himself he had a third choice: see this insane greeting line through, and hold it long enough to pee in moderate privacy. He shook his head and settled down, pressing his back against his mother; both appeared satisfied with his answer, as Kang nodded in approval and Joomi beamed with pride. More professional associates. More “friends”. Another twenty or so minutes. Then one of the lighter brown haired foreigners approached. Joomi looked to her father, and her silence revealed to Adam that she did not know the woman either. As she approached with a manila envelope and a small gift bag in her hands, Adam saw a recognizable flag pin on the lapel of her light blue suit, and his eyebrows flew high. “Congratulations, Ma Kang-nim,” she bowed very deeply to him, and repeated herself respectfully to Joomi. “This is Mrs. Williams,” Kang spoke up before the woman could turn to Adam, his eyes snapping down to the blonde. “She is the ambassador from Libertalia.” Both mother and son’s bodies tensed up in surprise. The woman smiled and inclined her head to the introduction. Adam’s hand dug into the tiger as he focused on maintaining a neutral expression. This was a test – it had to be; he felt in his bones. This was a test from Kang to see if he’d beg her to take him away. Or maybe it was a power play to show she was bowing before him. Either way, Adam felt the air was suddenly still, and his heart began to race, and his brain screamed a flurry of explanations and cries for help. “Congratulations, Ma Adam,” she warmly stated to him as she made eye contact and then bowed. He swallowed as the flurry was suddenly muted; she wouldn’t help him. No Amazon would risk their job for a Little… and in the off chance that she would make a move, it wouldn’t be for his benefit. He would still be diapered and adopted, just in his home country instead. He clenched his jaw, and robotically, he bowed his head and gave his thanks in Goryeoan; Miss Williams’ careful expression faltered for a moment in surprise, and Kang smirked. “You are kind to come,” Joomi cautiously replied, a hand gripping on Adam’s leg likely tighter than she intended. “I am honored to have been invited,” Miss Williams replied with a diplomatic cadence and tone. She gave a slight nod to Kang as her hand jerked that held onto the envelope, and he nodded, gesturing a hand to his brother, Mung, who stepped forward to take it. She curtly smiled and bowed again, turning to the side to walk over to the table of presents. Joomi let out a small sigh, and her hand relaxed; Adam popped the pacifier in his mouth as he finally found the need for it. The distraction of that interaction faded quickly as the pressure began to reassert itself as an urgent issue. The end of the line was in sight, but he knew he wasn’t going to make it. The sharp pains were informing him of imminent need, and he was tired of appearing antsy. Pulling the blanket up over his head, he created the illusion of privacy long enough to let go, and bonus points, the people around him just thought he was being cute. After nearly an hour and a half, the three of them were finally through the greeting line and allowed to mingle. Joomi made all haste to Chana to hand Adam off and run to the bathroom, barely explaining that in the process (and the irony was not lost on him). Chana, now his grandmother, was one of the few in the family who didn’t speak English, though he had learned she understood some. She lingered with the wives of Kang’s brothers, each of the two reflecting their husbands in some way; Bom’s wife was plump and friendly, and Shik’s wife was thin and smirked more than smiled. They spent a few rounds marveling at his hair, touching it and moving it around, and then his eyes. He kept quiet, alternating between biting and sucking on the pacifier to let out the nervous energy. When they burnt out on the topic, the three of them settled into chattering to each other in a tone Adam could best align with gossiping; they would fall quiet, make a few comments, laugh, and repeat. Looking at the lay of the land, there were definitely cliques of people. The suited individuals appeared to remain with each other, and the government officials appeared to avoid them as much as possible, but mingled with the few foreigners. Very few Tweeners, he also noted. “There you are!” Sung cheered as he put his face in Adam’s direct line of sight, causing him to startle a bit. The uncle grinned as he reached his hands out, asking Chana, “Emonim, may I?” She nodded, releasing Adam into his uncle’s scrawny but firm arms. He winced slightly, uncomfortable with a man holding him in a wet diaper, but by the time he realized that, it was too late. He tensed up as he sucked the pacifier in more and gripped the tiger. Sung started making a beeline through the room, but he was the easily distracted type, pausing as people called out to him or reached out to touch Adam’s blonde hair. “Oh, Sung,” called a familiar voice, and Adam closed his eyes. “Yoon-nim,” his uncle greeted in a friendly tone. “Always a pleasure.” “Indeed,” she grinned, and Adam leaned further into Sung when he felt her cold, bony hand on his back. She slid in Goryeoan as she began a conversation with him, leaving her hand there, and Adam shivered. “Sorry, Yoon-nim, it’s got to be English tonight,” Sung both sounded apologetic and not as he shifted Adam to his other side, forcing her to let her hand drop. “He’s still learning Goryeoan, you know.” “Ah, is he?” she replied in a thicker accent than Sung’s, raising a skeptical eyebrow. “Then speaking around him should help.” “Well, sure, but throwing a kid in the ocean and expecting them to learn how to swim just isn’t as effective. Or so I hear,” Sung replied with a distracted air to his tone as he scanned the crowds. He suddenly bowed to her quickly after making an ‘ah-ha’ sound. “Excuse me, my wife needs me.” Sung slipped away quickly, and after a few seconds, he glanced over his shoulder and then tossed a grin down to Adam. “Good instincts,” he mumbled, though his expression remained light and friendly as he made eye contact with people. “She creeps me out, too.” “You could tell?” Adam whispered back after pushing the pacifier out. “Tch, yeah man,” Sung snickered. “You weren’t subtle.” Adam flashed a grin, “Fair. Thanks.” “No problem,” his uncle winked. He gently pushed past a few people and emerged to a quiet corner where his wife was holding their daughter and talking to the Ambassador. Adam frowned, looking to Sung for a moment, but received no indication of intent. The three converged into a small circle, and Khee smiled at Adam. “How are you doing?” she asked quietly, reaching out to fix some of his ruffled hair from the random people who felt entitled to touch it. “Good,” he replied quietly, his eyes flicking to the ambassador. “Thanks.” “Hi, Adam,” Mrs. Williams smiled, and he lifted a hand from the stuffed tiger to wave silently at her, but he felt supremely uncomfortable. He tried to look to see if Kang or Joomi were nearby, but the group had closed the circle too closely, preventing him from seeing beyond them. “I wanted to ask you if you wanted me to pass anything along to your… birth family,” the woman asked quickly and quietly, her face twitching with anxiety. Adam blinked, looking between the three Amazons. That feeling he experienced before, when meeting Mrs. Williams next to Kang, flourished in him again. He felt a tingle at the back of his neck, a warning that this didn’t feel right, and that Kang was going to pop out the second he dared breathe a word out of line. His eyes flickered around, trying desperately to look between shoulders and arms to gauge if any suited Amazons were nearby, but no one had moved enough to give him a view. He gulped, too concerned about how to respond to this to even truly consider the offer. He looked to Mrs. Williams and shook his head no. The light-haired brunette frowned, “Are you sure? I promise, I’ll get it to them.” Adam shook his head again, feeling his stomach was experiencing an acidic tidal wave. He kept wishing she’d walk away, and he repeated it over and over again, hoping she’d telepathically get the message. ‘Just go, please go, please stop, just go.’ “Okay,” she sighed, sharing a look between the couple, and nodded. “I’ll be here for another half hour, if you change your mind.” “Thank you,” he quietly replied as his eyes fell to the stuffed tiger. Mrs. Williams nodded to the two and walked off. Khee and Sung shared a concerned look, and she placed a hand on his small shoulder. “She means it, honey,” Khee whispered to him. “I know, Auntie Khee,” he sniffed, looking to her dark eyes that looked very much like Kang’s. “Thank you.” Khee stared for a long moment and then nodded, “Okay.” “If you change your mind,” Sung added conspiratorially. “Just tell us. We’ll pass it along.” Adam couldn’t help but smile at his tone, and he nodded to acknowledge, but when they turned to face the crowd, he saw Zhang and Joomi were thoroughly engaged in conversation. He curled his nose up and slipped the pacifier back into his mouth so he could mouth the curses and things he was calling Zhang. “There he is,” Zhang almost growled in delight, a grin taking his face. Joomi, who had been politely conversing, sprang to life at the sight of Adam and warmed up as he was transferred back into her arms. “And who is this?” Zhang asked, tapping the top of the tiger’s head. “Boja,” Adam replied quietly behind the pacifier, then as his eyes moved to the tiger, who was still sitting next to the chair they were sitting in, he grinned and amended, “Little Boja.” “Hah!” Zhang bellowed out in a laugh, and patted Adam’s head. Looking at the intimidating Yamatoan, he realized the man was suddenly a lot less intimidating than before… he wasn’t sure why, but he let it go and let out a relieved sigh as he reclined and relaxed in his mother’s arms, letting their discussion fade into background noise. He felt stretched thin and overtaxed, and without the stress of needing to participate anymore, he let the rest of the night happen around him. He was content to let his brain buzz, eat and drink what was given to him, and fade in and out of consciousness.

Looks like you need a change 😁