Finn Lennoy - July 2114
A recount from 2098 to 2114
The first time I noticed the twins, we were nine, in primary school. Same school, different classes. I had transferred when my father moved to the area, so I was still getting used to the rhythms of the new place.
Kai and Noah stood out immediately, though not in the same way. Kai was quiet, dark-haired, blending into the background with a subtle confidence that didn't demand attention. Noah, on the other hand, was bright, animated, almost magnetic. His white hair caught the light in a way that made it impossible to look away, and every time our paths crossed, I found myself noticing him.
We never really spoke at school. Our paths didn't cross, and the only time I saw them was at lunch. Always together, always surrounded. Other kids gravitated toward them, fascinated, like they were observing something rare.
One stormy day, the lights in the school flickered out, and we were sent to the hall. I was sitting with friends, idly shuffling a deck of cards the teachers had given out, when a voice interrupted me.
"Uhm… that's an interesting strategy."
I turned. Noah Langford, studying the cards in my hands. I glanced back at my cards, then at him.
"Erm… do you want to play?" I asked.
He nodded and sat down. I scanned the room briefly. When one twin appeared, the other usually wasn't far behind, but Kai was absent, sick, apparently.
We started the game. Noah won, and then he won again, and again. The others around us were clearly impressed, murmuring questions.
"Wow, Noah! What's your secret? Why are you so good?"
He glanced up, calm, collected, and said, "It's just a matter of counting, calculations and strategising." Then he smiled.
I kept my eyes on the deck, shuffling it slowly, but I knew I'd be watching him for a while after that. Something about him made it easy to stay present, easy to just… watch. And I think, for the first time in that new school, I felt like I might actually fit in—not because of the crowd, but because of one person, and the quiet pull he had on the edges of everything.
______________________
It's another year before I see the twins again.
I'm sparring at the studio when Instructor Owen walks in with a kid trailing behind him. I recognise him right away, those dark, distant eyes. Kai.
He looks nervous to be here, like he's stepped into the wrong place and isn't sure how to get out.
"Finn, my lad. Come here a sec," Owen calls out.
I drop my gloves and jog over.
"Finn, this is Kai. Kai, Finn. Great. Now you know each other, you're sparring partners."
Classic Owen. Straight to the point, never too serious. That's what I like about him. He's the opposite of my dad, who only ever talks about rules, order, and "contributing to society." Owen's freer. Real.
I hold out my hand. "Nice to meet you."
Kai hesitates for half a second before shaking it. "You too."
So he does speak.
I grin. "Here's to being training buddies."
That makes him smile. The same shape as his brother's, but it doesn't hit quite the same way…
We train together for months after that day and got along well. Kai's quiet, but he's got a dry sense of humour. He doesn't let my teasing slide and gives it right back when he can. Over time, we became friends.
One afternoon, he shows up to training with someone else in tow. White hair, but the same black eyes. Noah. He looks out of place in the worn-down studio, clutching a book like it's armour.
Kai waves me over. "Hey, Finn, this is my brother. Noah."
Noah nods politely. Odd. He's so much more confident at school. Maybe he feels safer there.
"Yeah, we've met before," I say, smiling. Noah just blinks, looking a little puzzled. Guess that card game didn't leave the same impression on him as it did on me…
Kai and I start sparring. At first, I could knock him on his ass without trying. Lately, though, it's getting harder. He's improving fast. When we're done, Owen pulls him aside to give pointers, leaving me to cool down.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Noah sitting in the corner, reading. Not paying attention to anything around him. I wander over and sit beside him on the floor. He doesn't even look up.
I fake a cough.
Finally, he lowers the book just enough for his eyes to meet mine.
"What are you reading?" I ask.
"It's about gene splicing," he says simply.
The words go straight over my head. "Oh. Interesting."
Silence stretches.
Then he surprises me. "Do you enjoy fighting?"
"Uh… yeah," I say. "Been training for years."
"What are you training for?"
That one throws me. "The military. To follow in my dad's footsteps."
He studies me for a moment, thoughtful. Then he asks, "Is that something you want to do?"
A lump catches in my throat. "I think so," I manage.
He tilts his head slightly, that faint, knowing look like he's already seen through me. Not in a judgmental way, just… like he gets it.
"You know," he says, voice quiet but steady, "you don't have to be your father's prodigy. You can make your own choices. Your own life."
For a moment, I just… listen. The words hang in the air, soft but heavy in a way that makes the rest of the world feel a little quieter. And for the first time, it feels like someone actually understands me. Not just the surface stuff, but the parts I don't say, the parts I can't even say to myself sometimes.
But then I notice the slight hesitation, the way his eyes drift down for just a second, like he's thinking about something else. Maybe he isn't talking to me at all. Maybe he's talking to himself, sorting through some thought he's carried around for longer than I've known him. The words still land in me, though, whether meant for me or not.
I shift slightly, letting the quiet stretch. There's no need to respond. No need to say anything. I just watch him, noticing the subtle movements, the way his hand brushes against his knee, the tilt of his shoulder, the calm way he holds his gaze.
It's strange how comforting it is, just being near someone who doesn't rush, who doesn't expect anything from me. I realise I'm holding my breath, like I'm waiting for him to say more, but also not wanting him to. Because even the silence feels deliberate, like it's part of the understanding he's offering without words.
And I think, quietly, maybe this is what it feels like to be seen, not in the spotlight, not measured against anyone's expectations, just… seen.
_________________________
After that day, I decided to stick close to Noah. I'm not sure why… maybe it was curiosity, or maybe I just liked being around him. I started talking to the twins more at school, spending lunch with them whenever I could.
When Kai wasn't around, though, it felt different. Noah had this way of pulling my attention without even trying. I'd catch myself watching him a little too long, feeling… protective, I guess.
When we started secondary school, I was lucky enough to end up at the same school as Noah. However, Kai didn't get in, he had to go somewhere else. This place was an advanced program for the smart and talented, though I knew I had mostly gotten in through my father's connections rather than anything I'd earned.
Kai could have easily gotten in through his father's connections, just like I did. But over the years, as I got closer to the twins, I started to notice how their father didn't treat them the same. The difference wasn't always obvious in public, but it was there, in the way Kai hesitated around him, in the way Noah seemed to shoulder more expectations, more pressure. It left a quiet mark on both of them, one I couldn't ignore.
Still, being here meant I had a few classes with Noah. That was enough.
One afternoon, I waited outside his math classroom so we could walk to geography together. The hallway slowly filled with students spilling out, laughing and jostling, but he didn't come. At first, I thought maybe he'd been held up, or had gone somewhere else. But as minutes ticked by, a strange tightness settled in my chest, a quiet, insistent warning that something wasn't right
I pushed the classroom door open.
Noah was on the floor. One kid had him by the tie, fist raised. A bruise was already forming on his cheek, dark against pale skin, and he looked like he was trying so hard not to cry. There was a weariness in his face, a quiet resignation, like this wasn't the first time it had happened.
Something inside me snapped.
I don't even remember thinking. My body moved before my brain caught up. I tackled the kid to the ground and started hitting him. Once. Twice. Again and again.
Each strike felt like it was ripping something out of me, and for a moment, the world narrowed to the heat and noise and pure, raw anger. My knuckles stung. Blood smeared across them, warm and sticky, and I didn't feel human, just a surge of something fierce and unfiltered.
"FINN, STOP!"
Noah's voice cut through the haze, calm but firm.
My hand froze mid-swing. I blinked down at the boy beneath me. He was crying, bleeding, terrified, and suddenly the reality of what I'd done hit me like a wave. I let go, stepping back, heart hammering in my chest.
I turned to Noah. He was still on the floor, sitting upright, looking up at me. Sad, yes, but calm. No fear. No judgment. Just him. And the bruise spreading across his cheek. Dark, angry, raw. My chest tightened.
Kai was going to be furious.
Without thinking, I crouched slightly and reached out, cupping his face. My fingers brushed against the dark mark on his cheek. He flinched, but I don't pull my hand back immediately, heart thudding, a mix of guilt and something else I didn't want to name. The thoughtless movement, the intrusion, it should have made me feel embarrassed. And it did. But beneath that, there was a strange, almost stubborn warmth, a quiet ache that made me want to stay close, to protect him, to make it better.
I looked at him, really looked, and something in the way he blinked up at me, vulnerable but steady, made my chest tighten in a way I wasn't used to. I realised I was noticing the small things: the tilt of his jaw, the way his hair fell across his forehead, the calmness in his eyes even when the world was being unfair. My mind refused to name it, but the pull was there, insistent, quiet, impossible to ignore.
I let go of his face. "Come on," I said quietly, forcing a small, crooked smile. "We've got class."
I hold out my hand and he hesitated a fraction of a second, then nodded and grabs it. Slowly, carefully, he got to his feet, following me as I led the way out.
I glanced at him as we walked. The bruise on his cheek looked even worse in the harsh hallway light. I hated that someone could hurt him like that, hated that I hadn't been fast enough to stop it. But seeing him walk beside me, steady and unafraid, brought a strange calm.
___________________
As time went on, my feelings for Noah grew. I'm still not sure what kind of feelings they were, just that there was something there. The closer I got to the twins, the more I learned about their family. Noah, the favoured heir. Kai, the forgotten one. But none of that changed how I saw them. To me, they were just Noah and Kai…
I was fast asleep when my phone rang.
The red digits on my alarm clock read 11:35 p.m. Who calls at this hour?
I reached for my phone on the nightstand.
Noah Langford.
Maybe another late-night theory dump. He had this habit of calling when an idea struck him. Rambling about gene patterns or equations until he tired himself out. I never minded. His voice was steady, almost soothing.
"It's late, Noah," I joked as I answered.
But the voice on the other end wasn't his.
"Mr. Lennoy?"
I froze.
"Who is this?" I demanded.
"It's Joseph. Joseph Langford."
My stomach dropped. The twins' father never called me. And why on Noahs phone?
"Noah's been in a serious accident," he said, his tone clipped, factual. "I need a favour. Go to the hospital and watch over his condition until I arrive. There's something I need to handle first."
An accident? What does he mean?
For a moment, I couldn't speak. Then… "Okay… yeah. I'll head there now."
I threw on a hoodie, joggers, trainers, whatever was closest and ran out the door. My chest was tight the whole way there. He has to be okay. He has to be. Kai wouldn't let anything happen to him.
At the hospital, they guided me to a private room. Noah Langford, the plaque read.
The rhythmic beeping of monitors filled the air. Noah lay motionless in the bed. He was covered in bruises, cuts, and dried blood tangled in his hair. His breathing was steady but shallow. He looked fragile in a way I'd never seen before.
Seeing him like that broke something in me.
I sat beside him and took his hand. "Come on, Noah… wake up," I whispered.
Hours passed. I didn't move. Couldn't. The room stayed quiet except for the machines. Where was Kai? Where was their father? Anger started to bubble under my ribs.
Then Noah stirred.
I shot to my feet and leaned over him.
"Noah. Are you awake?"
He blinked groggily, eyes half-open. "Where… am I?"
"You're in the hospital."
His gaze drifted around the room, disoriented, and then it snapped to me. "Where's Kai?"
I had been bracing for that question. "I… I don't know," I said honestly, keeping my voice steady even though my chest tightened.
That seemed to wake him fully. He yanked the IV from his arm and swung his legs over the side of the bed, panic rising in him like a storm.
"Noah, stop! You need to calm down. Tell me what happened," I said, reaching toward him, though I didn't touch him, worried he would break if I did. I could feel his pulse hammering even through the thin hospital gown.
"He's in danger. I need to find him!"
Before I could reply, the door opened.
Dr. Langford stepped in, perfectly composed, hands clasped behind his back like he was attending a meeting, not walking into a room where a boy had just woken up in terror.
"Father," Noah's voice trembled, a fragile thread of fear and disbelief, "what's going on? Where's Kai?"
Dr. Langford met his gaze, unblinking. "Kai is dead."
The words landed like ice. No hesitation. No emotion. Just… stated fact.
Time seemed to stretch, slow, as I watched Noah's body stiffen. His eyes, wide and searching, didn't fully process it at first. Then, in a fraction of a second, the weight hit him. The grief, the rage, it all collided in his chest, and I could feel it radiating across the room.
I wanted to reach out, to steady him, to offer something, anything, but I froze. Not out of fear, but because there was nothing I could do to soften it. I just watched, quietly, as his hand trembled, his jaw tightened, and the first flicker of tears threatened to spill.
The words didn't make sense. Dead? No. Not Kai.
My throat went dry. I stumble back into the chair and just sit there, staring.
Noah looked like the air had been ripped out of him. His face crumpled, and he clutched his chest as if trying to hold himself together but tears ran freely down his cheeks.
"You're lying," he whispered, then louder "You're lying!"
"I came to deliver the facts," Langford said coolly. "Now that I've checked on your condition, I have work to return to."
And then he turned and left. Just like that.
Noah's cries filled the room. Raw, broken, helpless.
I didn't think. I just moved.
I wrapped my arms around him, and he gripped me back, clinging to me like I was the only thing keeping him from falling apart.
He cried for what felt like forever. And all I could do was hold him.
My heart felt like it was breaking under the weight of Noah's pain.
When he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse, shaking, but steady with something darker underneath.
"I'll make them pay," he whispered. "I swear."
I didn't fully understand what he meant. But I knew one thing for certain…
I wasn't going to leave him. Not now. Not ever.