Page 115 of Map of Pain
“You know,”Marcus saidquietly,“there’s a Japanese art called kintsugi. When pottery breaks, instead of hiding the cracks or throwing the piece away, they repair it with gold. The breaks become part of the beauty, not something to be ashamed of.”His gaze movedmeaningfullybetween Vincent and Luka.“Sometimes being broken and mended makes something stronger than it ever was whole.”
Luka was prepared to tell Marcus that it was a beautiful and apt sentiment, but he nearly burst out laughing when he saw the expression on Caleb’s face instead. The poor boy had tears in his eyes and his face was turning the color of a very ripe tomato. “Marcus, that’s so—”
“Come here,togaki.“ Marcus pulled Caleb into an embrace, allowing him to hide his face in the fabric of his shirt, though Luka could see the tips of his ears practically glowing red as he attempted to not cry.
Twenty minutes later, preceded by that warm floral jasmine and a touch of morning breath, Nick appeared in the kitchen doorway, hair mussed from sleep, wearing the same button down pajama shirt Luka helped him with every morning. His throat bore the visible marks of Shaw’s bite, but his expression was calm, alert. Luka noticed the way Nick’s gazeswept theroom—cataloging exits, positions, potential threats—but it was subtler now, more controlled.
“Morning,” he said.
Caleb looked up from Marcus’s chest, quickly wiping his nose with the back of his sleeve, and thankfully he didn’t rush to embrace his brother or overwhelm him with questions.
“Coffee?”Marcus offered, already reaching for a clean mug.
Nick nodded, settling into the chair beside Luka. Their knees brushed under the table, a casual bit of contact that made Luka feel warm and fuzzy. «Sleep okay?»Luka asked.
Nick smiled and nodded his fist.«Yes.»
The conversation resumed around them—quiet talk about plans for the weekend, Vincent mentioning a supply run, Marcus discussing some business at the club. Normal, domestic concerns. The kind of boring conversations Luka usually hated, but for today, it felt like exactly what he needed.
Nick didn’t contribute much, but he listened,occasionallyasking questions or making dry observations that earned quiet laughter from the others. His head still turnedwhenever someone moved—an old reflex—but he didn’t tense or reach for weapons that weren’t there.
This is what he looks like when he’s not just surviving,Luka realized, watching Nick navigate the conversation.When he’s just... living.
Luka noticed the subtle changes in Nick over these two days—the way different aspects of his personality seemed to surface and work together now instead of fighting each other. The tactical awareness that kept him safe, the learned compliance that helped him navigate social situations, and underneath it all, something that seemed to just be Nick. The cracks were still there, would always be there, but they were part of the whole now instead of breaking it apart.
The peaceful conversation was interrupted by the sound of uneven, heavy footsteps in the hallway. Adam wandered into the kitchen wearing nothing but boxer briefs Luka was certain belonged to Matteo and his prosthetic leg, hair sticking up in twelve different directions, bite marks and bruises decorating his neck and shoulders like abstract art.
He moved with the unconscious comfort of someonecompletelyat home, heading straight for the cabinet, pulling the top off a can of peaches and taking several long sips of the syrup inside like it was made from ambrosia.
“Oh,”he said, blinking at Marcus and Caleb with mild surprise when he turned around.“Hey. I didn’t know we had company.”
Nick had gone very still at Adam’s sudden appearance—not panicked, but still on high alert. Luka noticed him tracking Adam’s movements, the prosthetic, the obvious comfort with which Adam moved through the space.
«Cover up,»Luka saidto Adam, keeping his signs simple.«Guests.»
Adam glanced down at himself, then back at Luka, and flipped him off with cheerful irreverence before heading toward the refrigerator.“Yeah, yeah, let me get some food first. I’m starving.”
“Adam,”Vincent’s voice carried a note of warning, though his expression showed more amusement than actual irritation.
“What? They’ve seen worse, I’m sure.”Adam pulled out sandwich fixings.“Besides, this is my house too. If Marcus can wander around in his fancy suits at ass o’clock in the morning, I can wander around in my underwear.”
“It’s eleven AM,”Marcus said dryly.
“Ass o’clock for people who don’t sleep at night,”Adam replied, slapping together what looked like the world’s most chaotic sandwich.“So, how’s everyone doing? Very domestic scene we’ve got here. Very... family breakfast vibes.”
Luka saw Nick’s expression shift—not uncomfortable, but thoughtful. Like he was trying to process the idea of“family breakfast vibes”in relation to himself.
“Adam,”Vincent said again, with more emphasis this time.
“Right, right. Clothes. Becauseapparentlymy magnificent form is too distracting for polite company.”Adam took a massive bite of his sandwich and headed for the stairs.“Give me five minutes. Don’t say anything interesting while I’m gone.”
As his footsteps retreated down the hall, a moment of silence settled over the kitchen.
“He’s...”Caleb started, then seemed to lose his words.
“A lot,”Marcus finished with obvious fondness.“But he means well.”
Nick’s mouth had quirked into what might have been the beginning of a smile.“He’s comfortable here.”
