Path of the Extra Chapter 390: Leo Karumi [24]

[AN: This Chapter contains depictions and references to child abuse, emotional manipulation, and suicide. It also includes scenes of physical distress and discussions of trauma. These themes are handled as part of the characters’ psychological development and ongoing narrative, but they may be distressing to some readers. If you are sensitive to these topics or they resonate personally, consider taking breaks while reading. Your well-being comes first.]

*****

"Ghk—ahh—!"

...

"Ngh—kgh!"

...

"Huurgh—!"

...

"Haa... haa... haa...!"

Steadying his breath proved difficult for Leo. He barely managed to stop the stomach acid from surging back up his throat—already scorched raw from the burn.

"U-uhk—!"

Hands gripping the toilet rim, he heaved once more. The fiery sensation worsened as acid rushed through his esophagus and spilled from his mouth.

Fortunately, after several more futile dry heaves—despite his empty stomach—he sensed it was finally over.

Collapsing backward, Leo hit the floor and rested against the stall door. Only then could he draw in proper breaths.

His gaze wandered idly around the cramped stall.

He had rented it, after all. Any damage would spell trouble.

Yet, glancing at his wrist, Leo's weary eyes grew even emptier.

His costume was ruined. Stained. Smeared with blood.

A faint sigh escaped Leo.

"I should find the mask first," he muttered in a weak, raspy tone.

If the mask remained intact, the cost might stay low. Apologizing would still be awful, however.

"The mask is fine."

The voice sounded from beyond the stall door.

Leo's eyes widened slightly.

"Nathan..." he breathed, too exhausted to speak louder.

"How long have you been here?"

"Ten minutes. More or less."

Another sour, stinging sigh rasped from Leo's throat.

"I see."

"I wanted to have lunch with you," Nathan explained. "Then I ran into Lia in the hallway. She pointed out where you went with your mother, and then I..."

Nathan trailed off.

Leo's expression darkened.

"You saw, didn’t you?"

"...Yeah," Nathan answered softly.

Likely, he leaned against the door just like Leo. No risk of interruptions here—this bathroom sat distant from classrooms and festival activities. Hardly anyone used it. That explained its spotless state.

Quiet hung between them.

Words failed both.

Nathan broke the silence.

"How’s the wound?"

Leo checked his wrist once more.

"The bleeding stopped..."

"You didn’t drip anything in the hallway," Nathan noted. "But there was some on the floor in here. I cleaned it up already, so don’t worry."

"...Thanks," Leo whispered, still winded.

Nathan's voice turned sharper yet steady. What struck Leo was his surprising composure.

"Correct me if I’m wrong, but..." Nathan hesitated.

"This isn’t the first time you’ve dealt with something like this, is it?"

"..."

Leo's quiet confirmed it.

A mirthless low chuckle came from Nathan.

"You always got sick easily when you were overwhelmed or felt lost," he recalled. "Just like that time you accidentally broke your mom’s portrait when we were playing tag in the house..."

"..."

"I don’t want to sound stupid... but you do realize what she did is abuse, right?"

Leo parted his lips at once—then clamped them shut, gaze dropping. Knees drawn up, he buried his face against them.

"...She’s probably just stressed about something," Leo murmured. "She didn’t mean to..."

"She didn’t mean to?" Nathan echoed, shock shattering his restraint.

"You... you’re joking, right?"

A faint tremor shook his words. Leo noticed but stayed silent.

A heavy sigh drifted through the door, as if Nathan willed himself calm.

"Now that I think about it..." Nathan mused deliberately, "last year you got really sick during winter break. It wasn’t just you. Lia was sick too, right?"

Leo shut his eyes tight.

"I couldn’t see you because you had a high fever, but my mom went almost every day. She kept saying she was taking care of you—not Lia."

Nathan's tone dipped, laced with reflection and resentment.

"Back then, it made sense. Your dad was away on a business trip, and it must’ve been overwhelming for your mom. So my mother helped out—taking care of you while your mom took care of Lia. But... she never stayed at your house. Even though our families were close enough for sleepovers. Even though we’ve gone on trips together."

"..."

Leo remained mute.

Nathan pressed on.

"I remember how my mom looked so helpless for some reason when she came home. And every day, when I asked how you were doing, she looked worse. I didn’t think much of it at the time, because when you finally got better, you acted like nothing happened. Like you were perfectly fine again."

His breath caught. Leo could almost hear his clenched teeth, voice straining for control.

"The truth is, Lia was the one who was actually sick. And that must’ve stressed your mother out so much... she used you as a way to cope, didn’t she?"

"..."

"Aren’t you going to deny such a crazy accusation?"

"..."

"Hey..." Nathan's voice grew tense. "Say something. Insult me, act arrogant—do something instead of sitting there like this. It’s pathetic."

"..."

Leo sensed Nathan's light frustrated knock on the door. He clutched his knees closer.

"Let’s go tell my mom."

"No."

Leo shot back instantly—desperate at last.

"Don’t tell her about this... please."

"...Why? She helped you last time. This ti—"

"No."

"WHY?!"

"..!"

Leo jerked at Nathan's abrupt yell beyond the door.

"...S-sorry," Nathan followed quickly, fury crumbling into sorrow. "It’s just... why won’t you ask for help? I don’t understand you. I don’t understand why my mom hasn’t done something—like go to the police, or..."

Nausea twisted through Leo anew.

He refused to reveal why Sarah had held back, despite her deep desire to act.

"...And why do you still want her love? I don’t get it. I didn’t know about all of this, but I could still see how she treated you compared to Lia. Even when we were younger, she wasn’t like this with you. Leo, even if she’s your moth—"

"She isn’t my mother."

"..."

"..."

"...What?"

Total confusion filled Nathan's voice.

"Hey, Leo—what the hell do you mean she isn’t your mother?"

Leo sighed softly. His throat felt parched. The burn had faded somewhat, yet he craved water. His words emerged raspy.

"Jeanne Karumi isn’t my biological mother."

"Huh?"

A subtle smile tugged at Leo's mouth this time.

"H-how does that make sense?" Nathan stuttered. "You mean you’re adopted? But... huh? You have her eyes, and—and you and Lia—"

"Because we’re still related by blood," Leo clarified. "Even if she didn’t give birth to me."

Nathan paused briefly.

"You mean..."

Leo hummed in affirmation.

"Her sister. Cassie Karumi is my biological mother."

"No way..."

"Yeah," Leo confirmed. "She got pregnant with me in her last year of high school."

"But... but didn’t she—"

"Kill herself?"

"..."

"She did," Leo stated bluntly. "Around the time she was supposed to go to some great university to become a doctor. The man—my biological father—got into a car crash. He didn’t survive."

Leo's tone held steady.

"And after that... I don’t know. Maybe she just stopped caring about everything. Maybe she didn’t even care about something like me. She hanged herself."

"That..." Nathan began.

Worst of all, per "mother" Jeanne Karumi's account, Leo's real father had been shopping for baby items far ahead of the due date, brimming with excitement and nerves.

"My father was probably the only good thing that ever happened to her," Leo went on. "Losing him must’ve pushed her over the edge."

His exhale came slow.

"I got lucky, I guess. They saved me with an emergency C-section." He paused. "And then I was adopted by her sister. The woman you call my mother."

Nathan fell quiet, searching vainly for words.

"I... I’m sure—" he started, then halted.

Likely an aborted attempt at solace, deemed inadequate.

Then his tone stiffened.

"...If she isn’t your real mother, doesn’t that make it even more reason to stop defending her?"

"She might not be my biological mother," Leo replied softly, "but she’s still my mother."

"A mother wouldn’t put her child through this," Nathan countered—harsher and icier than anticipated.

Leo moved slightly, eyes fixed on the door.

"Stop defending her," Nathan urged again.

"I can’t."

"Why?"

"Because..."

Leo trailed off.

Unspoken, yet Nathan grasped it regardless.

"You can stay with me," Nathan offered swiftly. "I’m sure Mom and Dad would love to have—"

"You know that’s not possible."

"Why?"

"Just let it go."

"How can I?"

"Don’t tell anyone what I told you."

"You know I would never."

"..."

"I’m not giving up on this," Nathan declared.

"..."

"I’m going to save you."

Leo let slip a quiet chuckle.

"I’m not joking!"

"...Alright," Leo answered softly, a faint smile lingering.

"About the costume—"

"Don’t worry about it," Nathan interrupted. "We’ll go apologize together tomorrow."

"...Thanks."

"Now let’s go to the infirmary and treat your wound," Nathan commanded firmly. "And... let’s skip the sports festival and the rest of the day. We’ll grab something to eat."

"Won’t you get in trouble with your class?"

"They’ll manage without me."

"...Thanks," Leo repeated.

"Let’s go."

Leo rose. After a moment's pause, he unlocked the stall door.

Nathan stood waiting, face etched with relief. His eyes flicked straight to Leo’s wrist and the crusted blood.

Leo watched Nathan's jaw clench before he willed it loose.

"The nurse probably won’t be there," Nathan remarked, "but I know where she keeps the first aid kit."

"You do?" Leo arched his brows.

Nathan nodded with a cocky grin. In his grasp dangled the clown mask.

"You underestimate how many times I’ve fallen on my face or gotten smacked by a ball during practice."

"You’re an idiot."

"What—hey!" Nathan objected. "I only got a nosebleed twice last month. I’ve come a long way, you know?!"

"Sure," Leo drawled, rolling his eyes.

They exited the bathroom side by side.

At the infirmary, Nathan's prediction held—the nurse was absent. He demanded to bandage the wound himself, and Leo yielded reluctantly, despite his own know-how.

Afterward, they sneaked from school unnoticed and fetched food.

...Neither appeared again until the school festival's final day.