Enigma Nocturne

~*~*~*~

Part Twelve.


Now what?! Jore asked himself frantically. They were surrounded, and he didn’t know what to expect. Amgine couldn’t take much more pain, and he himself sure wasn’t going to last long against this many of Lokus’ minions.

Suddenly, he thought of something.

“Wait, wait!” He yelled, putting his hands up and donning a scared expression. “Hey, wait, come on, I didn’t do anything.”
Lokus raised an eyebrow.
“I’ll leave you guys alone,” Jore added with a sincere, hopeful tone.
Lokus smirked. “Good choice, Meili. And… I’m sure you won’t find this even interesting enough to mention to anyone else, hm?”
Jore shook his head and lowered his hands as he started to move away.

For a tiny second, Lokus and all the other bullies’ attention flicked back to their original target. No one was watching Jore for just a moment, and that’s when he made his move.

Jore dropped to a squat and then sprung forwards in a dash, pushing through the legs of a few caught-off-guard bullies, and grabbing Amgine’s ankle. The blonde boy squeaked in surprise, but in a few milliseconds he realized the situation and dropped to the ground, crawling backwards while Jore pulled him out of the crowd by his ankle.

The slower bullies had to register what was going on, and Lokus watched the scene, confused at first, and then yelled at the bullies to move it as he saw Jore and Amgine dash around the corner and out of sight.

Amgine stumbled as they slowed at Jore’s dorm building door, but Jore made up the lost time as he whipped out his school key, and they were inside in seconds. The door closed behind them and they ducked down, sitting away from the window.

A few tense moments passed in silence as they both regained breath from their sprint, and Jore held his aching torso as he inched up to peek out of the window. Lokus and the gang of bullies was running in the opposite direction of Jore’s dorm, dodging other students and making divots in the manicured lawn with their expensive shoes. The whole crowd of them took one last look around, and then Lokus lead them as they disappeared into the school building across the courtyard.

Jore sighed and sat back down, then looked over at Amgine with a triumphant smile.

The blonde smiled back at him through a slightly bruised cheekbone. “Um…thank you,” he said softly.
Jore melted inside, but outwardly he just shrugged and looked away, using his hair to hide his blushing face. “It’s fine,” he replied causally.

Amgine opened his mouth to say something more, but then closed it. He looked at the floor for a bit, then back at Jore, taking in his appearance. Jore’s black trench coat was a little dirty from the action of the rescue, and his school uniform pants had grass-stained knees. Amgine watched Jore’s gloved and decorated left arm rise and fall with his rasping breaths, and a look of worry darkened his angelic features. “Um, are you okay?” He asked, and the two of them made eye contact for a second when Jore turned back towards him and smiled tiredly.

“Yeah, I’m fine, don’t worry,” Jore said, lying. He hurt a lot more suddenly. The running must have done something bad to his bandaged torso. He was originally planning to go his dorm room and re-bandage himself after school ended, but since this interruption, he hadn’t got a chance. “Uh, do you want to come up to my room for a minute? I have some water. And we should look at that bruise,” Jore said and pointed to Amgine’s cheek. Amgine looked at the floor, touched his cheek gingerly, and then nodded, standing up.

Jore tried to stand up, but as he arched his back a searing pain went through his chest cavity and he couldn’t suppress a cry of pain.

Amgine’s eyes widened as he realized that Jore was very hurt, and thoughts of worry and guilt rushed through him. He had never meant to be a burden. He felt awful. “Oh no, are you alright?” the blonde asked pointlessly. Jore shuddered in a few breaths. Amgine bent down and took his black-clad arm. “Let me help,” he said, and together they succeeded in getting on their feet. Jore, though unable to speak, smiled gratefully, rasping in breaths. He handed Amgine his school key, which had his dorm room number on it.

Amgine found the room and unlocked it, and they went in and eased Jore down to sit on his bed. Amgine found two water bottles in the mini-fridge and handed one to Jore before sitting in a chair across the room.

They drank in silence for a few minutes.


“Did Lokus and his thugs ask you for anything?” Jore asked bluntly.

Amgine stared at the ground, thinking. “No,” he replied softly. “They didn’t ask me for anything… I was just walking around, trying to find my new room after class, and they came up to me and forced me to walk with them. Then they just beat me up.”

Jore frowned, and thought to himself, Those cruel idiots… don’t they have anything better to do? It’s worrying that they didn’t have any other motive besides hate.

But what was even more worrying was the way Amgine had just told Jore what happened. He spoke of how he had been treated like it was no big deal; like he had been through it before. Jore got a bitter taste in his mouth at the thought of that much pain being familiar to a sweet boy like Amgine.

“You’ve… gotten beat up before, haven’t you?” Jore asked quietly.
Amgine looked up at him and nodded emotionlessly before looking back at the floor. “Yeah, at my old school, kids used to pick on me. And also…” his voice suddenly trailed off. Then he looked up at Jore, his eyes wider, worried, scared.
“What?” Jore asked, concerned. ‘Also’ what?
“Uh… nothing,” Amgine said, and took a few big sips of his water.
Jore was now even more worried about Amgine, and he wanted to know why the blonde was they way he was. He also wanted to know how he was related to Mr. Nairicks. But he couldn’t just ask; it was obviously a touchy subject and it made Amgine very uncomfortable.

Jore mercifully changed the subject. “Uh, so. Do you have any friends?”
Amgine shook his head glumly.
“Girlfriend?” Jore dared to ask.
Amgine’s face paled for a second and then blushed a little, and he shook his head no. “You?”
“Well I don’t have many good friends, just a lot of acquaintances… and I, uh… I’m gay,” he said and smiled nervously. He had to say it sometime.
Amgine didn’t react much, but for a second, Jore thought he saw a hint of a smile on the blonde’s face. “Oh, uh… that’s… cool,” he said nervously.
“Yeah, it is, actually,” Jore said comically. Amgine chuckled.


There was a long, awkward silence. Jore felt like an idiot for saying that. He was moving way too fast… this was all crazy. First he saves this adorably sexy little kid from getting killed, then he neglects to change the bandages on his torso wound just to talk about really weird, uncomfortable stuff. Plus, he still looked like a huge, scary Goth. He had to go redo his bandage and change into something lighter. His dorm room was nice, pretty spacious, and had a small bathroom in it.

“Well, I’m going to go change, I’ll be right out,” he said, and Amgine nodded, still looking bruised, grass-stained and very tired. Jore felt a fresh wave of sympathy. They both knew that they couldn’t come out of their hiding place of Jore’s room yet, because Lokus and his gang would be looking for them. “Hey, uh… you can go ahead and borrow some of my roommate’s clothes if you want to change,” Jore offered. “He’s gone for the weekend so he won’t mind.”
“Uh… okay,” Amgine replied and stood up.
“They’re just in that dresser. Pick anything you want, I think most of it will fit you.”

Jore got some of his clothes and a fresh roll of gauze, and locked himself in the little bathroom. He washed his hands and face, then undressed down to his boxers.
He looked at his bandaged torso in the mirror, and then carefully unraveled the used gauze, wincing as it pulled at his flesh. The wound wasn’t bleeding anymore, but it was still very painful and itchy. And unfortunately, with the constant contact of gauze, a solid scab had yet to form over it. But it was healing, and Jore was glad he didn’t have to have stitches, and that he could take care of it himself as long as he could keep stealing rolls of gauze from the school’s infirmary.

He re-wound himself up in the gauze, and sighed as it left him feeling fresh and a lot less painful. He then changed into his new outfit; a pair of slightly tight blue jeans, a short-sleeve shirt, black hoodie, and soft, black cotton gloves with the fingers neatly cut off. He brushed his hair a little and smiled at his friendly appearance in the mirror, then opened the door to the bathroom.

Amgine was sitting on Jore’s bed, and had his school uniform shirt unbuttoned and hanging loosely around his elbows; he was in the middle of changing, and Jore had caught him shirtless. Amgine looked up, wide eyed. For a moment, all Jore could do was blush and stare back in shock, but then a rush of emotion came over him as Amgine suddenly broke eye contact, hunched over, hugged his own shoulders, and sobbed.

Jore was horrified. “Wha—ah! Wait, wait, it’s okay, please don’t be upset, I’m sorry! I can leave if you want,” he said, feeling terribly guilty.
“N-no,” Amgine mumbled.
Jore stood still at that. He was very confused. He waited for a few moments before moving and sitting next to Amgine on the bed.

And then in the light, Jore suddenly saw the reason Amgine was upset.

Red slashes of scars marked the flesh of Amgine’s back. They were randomly placed, of different lengths and severity, and there were dozens of them. Jore gasped in horror and sympathy, and swallowed as he rested a hand very lightly on Amgine’s shoulder, avoiding the scars.
“Amgine… you… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to see… you like this.”
“No, I… It’s alright, it w-was an accident,” Amgine said, and sniffled a little as he slipped his shirt back over his shoulders.

Jore looked down at his gloved hands blankly. He felt awful that he had seen Amgine shirtless… although he did look beautiful… No! Stop thinking like that! Jore yelled in his head. He had to focus. He was really worried about Amgine. What had happened to him to leave so much evidence of pain?

Deep in Jore’s subconscious, he had the dreadful hunch that he knew where those scars came from. But he had to know for sure.
“Amgine…” he began softly, looking down at the blonde who was rubbing tears away from his eyes. Jore swallowed, feeling that right then wouldn’t be the best time to ask. So he instead stood up to go get a fresh shirt from the dresser. “Here,” he said, and handed Amgine the shirt. Amgine took it with mumbled thanks, and then looked up expectantly, his eyes slightly red.

“Oh! Uh, um, I won’t look,” Jore said awkwardly and turned around, putting his hands firmly over his eyes to prove his intent. A few moments passed, and he heard the soft rustle of fabric as Amgine dressed. He couldn’t help blushing, but pushed his attractions aside and focused on his worry. He had to ask Amgine about those scars. Even if it meant bringing Amgine’s bad memories to light, he had to know.

“Okay,” Amgine said, signaling he was done changing. Jore turned around and then moved to sit next to Amgine again. The blonde looked at the floor blankly, sadness still in his eyes. It pulled at Jore’s heart, but his need to know more, and maybe help Amgine by having the knowledge, had to be fulfilled.

“Amgine… what happened to you?”
Amgine’s blonde locks hid his face from view as he said, “I… I got hurt, a long time ago.”
Jore frowned. “I saw the way those scars looked. Some of them weren’t made a long time ago,” he said softly. Amgine didn’t move. “…Please, tell me. I could help, maybe?” Jore said gently.
Amgine shook his head ever so slightly. “…No, it doesn’t matter.”
Jore stiffened. “Yes, it does!” he said loudly, and Amgine visibly flinched. Jore immediately regretted his tone. “…I mean, I… I’m worried about you. Please tell me. You’ll feel better if you do.”

Amgine looked up, and Jore shivered at the profoundness he felt looking into the blonde’s different colored eyes. “I’m sorry. I can’t tell you,” he said, and the sadness in his eyes was more than enough to stop Jore’s questioning.

“Alright,” Jore answered quietly as he looked down at his gloved hands again.


* * *


“We can hide, but we can’t run,” Jore said, peering out of a crack in his dorm room window’s blinds. It was now evening, and the courtyard was cast in shadow, so he couldn’t see much. He turned back to Amgine. “Lokus and his gang will find you if you try to get to your room. I’m sure they know where it is… and, well, I hope you didn’t bring anything valuable to school this year, ‘cause… your room’s probably trashed now.”

Amgine shrugged and nodded in response, and Jore once again got the feeling that Amgine was used to being tormented like this. “So… what do we do?” the blonde asked after a moment.

“We’d better stay here,” Jore said. Amgine nodded. It was logical; they’d stay in his dorm room overnight (which would be easy to do because his roommate was gone), and then in the morning they would go to class together carefully, blend into the crowd as best they could, and watch out for Lokus. They couldn’t tell a teacher, or things would get even worse. When dealing with bullies, one is forced to play by their rules. So right now, they had to wait it out.


The two of them ate some microwave dinners, and later Amgine borrowed a book and sat on Jore’s roommate’s bed, quietly reading, while Jore went on his laptop, sitting cross-legged on his own bed. They hardly spoke, until at around eleven o’ clock Jore lay down, turned off his bedside lamp and rolled over, prepared to go to sleep.

“…Jore?” Amgine’s soft voice sounded timidly in the darkness.
“Yeah,” Jore answered, his voice sleepy.
“…Uh, n-nothing. Goodnight,” Amgine stuttered, and his bed sheets rustled as he rolled over.
Jore turned over onto his back, and sat up a little. “What is it?”
Amgine’s form was barely outlined in the small amount of moonlight coming in from the covered window. “I… I just wanted to say… thank you for helping me.”

Jore smiled in the darkness and lay back down. “You’re welcome.”


Jore slept, but it wasn’t peaceful. He tossed and turned, his mind confused and dark. He dreamt of memories and distortions of memories… and everywhere his mind turned, the Headmaster was hurting him. In his dreams he could still feel cold metal on his skin, the aching embarrassment and shame as he was touched by ice-cold fingers, and the agony of the dagger across his torso.

Jore awoke with a gasp, sweating. His chest was aching, and his bandaged wound stung badly. He tried to control his breathing, and cooled down after a few minutes. He wanted to forget everything that had happened so badly. But it never let him rest; it was always in the back of his mind, and it picked up the hunt for him when he dreamt. Jore shifted restlessly and tried his best to get back to sleep.
As he was drifting back to darkness, Jore suddenly heard a soft murmur from Amgine’s side of the room. Instantly, Jore’s attention was directed there. He heard another soft murmur, then a whimper. Jore sat up in bed, and looked over at Amgine in the dark.

The blonde was curled up tightly, with is back to Jore, and his covers were thrown back. Jore saw that he was wearing boxers and a t-shirt, and he glimpsed a bit of scarred skin where the shirt was slightly pulled up. Jore watched Amgine’s small form as it twitched and shivered, and he heard soft, pained noises coming from the blonde. He sat up and put his legs over the side of his bed, listening. He strained to hear, and made out Amgine’s mumbled sleep talk.

“…No… don’t… no, stop, please, no… help me,” He mumbled breathily. Jore felt terrible; he figured Amgine was having a dream about getting beat up again. The poor thing… he can’t escape pain, even in his dreams. Jore sighed in understanding and pity, but then Amgine said something extremely worrying. “Stop, no… don’t, uncle, please… s-stop!”

Jore sprang up and was at Amgine’s bedside in a flash. “Amgine! Wake up!” He whispered loudly, but got no reaction. Without thinking, Jore grabbed a hold of the blonde’s shoulders and turned him over onto his back, shaking him slightly. “Amgine! Amgine!” He whispered louder, and then the blonde jolted awake, his eyes snapping open wide.

Amgine stared up at Jore in shock for one moment, and then opened his mouth and began to scream.
“AH!” Jore exclaimed as the loud noise hurt his ears for a second, before he pressed a hand over Amgine’s mouth. Immediately, Amgine began to struggle violently. “Woah, wait! Wait! Amgine! Amgine, stop!” Jore whispered loudly, and then suddenly Amgine became as still as a corpse, only his wide eyes staring up at Jore in terror. Jore removed his hand slowly, and felt Amgine take a shuddering breath. “Amgine, you… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… …Are you okay?”

Amgine was frozen for a moment, but then Jore’s words seemed to register in his head, and his eyes became slightly less fearful. He opened his mouth to say something, but it turned into a soft gasp as Jore wrapped his arms around the blonde’s smaller form, lifted him into a sitting position, and hugged him tightly.

“A-Amgine… you…” Jore began, but then he started to choke up. Within seconds, he was shaking with quiet sobs, and Amgine’s thin arms rose up to hug him back. Jore sniffled as he felt his hug being returned, and squeezed the blonde tighter. “Amgine, I… I know what h-happened to you now, and I…I’m sorry… so sorry,” Jore managed to say, and then squeezed the blonde tighter before letting him go, and moving away a little.

“…Are…are you sure you know?” Amgine asked softly. Jore sniffed and nodded. “But… no, you couldn’t… you can’t possibly know…” Amgine whispered, a shocked expression on his face as Jore nodded again. “Jore… you… you… h-he has…”

“Yes,” Jore whispered.

* * *