Chapter Text
Jean tries not to think about his soulmate. In theory, he must have one, somewhere.
When Jean was a boy, he would daydream about what his soulmate would be like. He would imagine the exact moment he would meet her. At the first word from her mouth, his world would explode into color, illuminated by the girl he was destined to be with.
As Jean got older, he knew that this could never be. Moreaus didn’t have soulmates, anyways. Jean’s parents weren’t soulmates. Their marriage was arranged. Given the business they dealt with, attachments would only get in the way. In their world, soulmates were unnecessary. Love was a ruse people used to get what they wanted. And if, somehow, that love was genuine, it could only be used against you.
Jean knew that he would have to get married one day, but that it would certainly not be to his soulmate. He had accepted this fact as a part of the duty he had to his family. With the burden of knowing that he would eventually take over the family business and have children of his own, he just hoped that his future wife would be kind and a better mother than his own. He still had the chance for a good life, even though it would be lived in black and white.
Then, his father sold him to the Moriyamas, and Jean’s world was turned upside down. He had known Herve Moreau to be a cunning and violent man, but never quite so cruel as this, especially to his own son.
Jean understood why: his father needed to pay his debts to the Moriyama’s, and this was the only option that he found that would keep his family from ruin. The business belonged to the Moreaus, but the Moreaus also belonged to their business. The two were forever intertwined. However, until this moment, Jean had not known that his father viewed him as a possession. His father was saving himself and saving his work at the expense of his only son. Jean was something to be bought and sold, never in control of his own fate.
That night, Elodie climbed into his bed one final time. She didn’t quite understand what was going on, and Jean didn’t have the heart to explain it to her. Knowing that this was the last he would see of his sister for a long time, Jean held her tightly. He cried into his pillow, attempting to muffle the sound, until he fell asleep.
Jean woke the next morning to the sun shining in his eyes. He was alone in his bed; Elodie had left before he got up. As he stood, he saw his suitcase by the door. On his dresser, an outfit was laid out for him. Peeking in the drawers and in the closet, Jean found everything empty. All traces of himself, gone.
Jean got dressed and went downstairs to eat breakfast. He ate his toast alone at the dining table. The house was quiet. When he finished, he walked into the foyer. His parents stood next to the door, talking with his father’s driver. Jean’s suitcase was sitting at the bottom of the steps, next to his mother’s leg. They all looked at him as he walked into the room. Oh. Jean thought. I’m leaving– now.
His father approached him and placed a hand on his shoulder. He gave his son a brief and cold goodbye. Herve pushed Jean towards the door that his mother held open. The driver grabbed the suitcase and walked out the door. As his father guided him towards the exit, Jean looked back at his mother. Her face was void of emotion. She would not mourn his loss. Jean turned his head back and walked towards the car in front of him. The driver opened the backseat door, and without a word or a look back at his parents, Jean got inside the car and shut the door.
He was only fourteen years old, and he had been forced to leave behind his home, his country, his sister. Jean’s heart broke to know that he was leaving his sister behind. He did not know what awaited him in West Virginia, but maybe this was how his life was meant to go.
Maybe his soulmate was waiting for him at the arrivals gate of the airport. A saving grace for the boy who didn’t deserve a soulmate, but desperately yearned for one. Jean imagined arriving in America and hearing his soulmate’s voice, then she would happily whisk him away from this world of cruelty. Perhaps Elodie could come live with them when he got older, and they could all be happy together.
This was not the case.
Jean had been in the United States for half an hour when he got to the arrivals area of the terminal. From the escalator, his eyes assessed the people of the room with a nervous look. Amongst the reuniting family members and bored taxi drivers was an Asian man in a simple suit carrying a sign with a name: JEAN-YVES MOREAU. His expression was stoic, and his eyes were trained on Jean.
Stepping onto the tile floor, the boy approached the man and stopped directly in front of him. Jean must have been quite the sight: a frail and too tall child dressed in his Sunday best, armed with a large suitcase and trembling like a prey animal.
Jean avoided eye contact with the man. Mustering up all his courage, Jean spoke in heavily accented English. “M-Mr. Moriyama? It is a pleasure to meet you, sir.” He stuck out his hand for the man to shake.
The man looked at him with a neutral expression. His gaze went down to Jean’s hand, then back up to his face. After a beat, Jean put his hand down. “I am not Tetsuji Moriyama.” The Man stated. “Come. I have been instructed to bring you to him.”
The man abruptly grabbed the handle of Jean’s suitcase and guided him outside. He stopped in front of a sleek black SUV, letting go of the suitcase and opening the door to the backseat. Wordlessly, Jean climbed into the car. The moment Jean’s limbs were all inside, the door slammed shut. The man marched to the other side of the car and climbed into the driver’s seat. The man put his seatbelt on and turned the car on. Jean’s heartbeat was loud in his ears, drowning out the low thrum of the car’s engine. He twisted in his seat to look out the window.
The small black suitcase he had brought was still sitting on the sidewalk. My suitcase! Jean was about to raise his voice in protest, but he was unable to get the words out. As the car swiftly pulled onto the road, Jean’s eyes lingered on the abandoned suitcase. He watched until it was gone from his view; all remnants of his past life left behind.