Chapter Text
I watched as Takeshi went about looking after our Lambo, rubbing the boy with palmfuls of moisturiser and tending especially to the patches of dry skin. The winter had plunged us into a chill and Lambo had rediscovered his love of laying feet-first in front of the heater, Miphy at his side. As a result, our little Lambo was scratching, his dried-out skin irritating him.
"You shouldn't sit so close to the heater," Takeshi chided gently as Lambo cringed and wriggled against the itch of his skin absorbing the cream. "Your Mama tells you that everytime. This is what happens: your skin dries out and we gotta grease you all up again!"
Takeshi tried to get Lambo back into his pyjamas, but the boy whined and complained about "icky feel! So sticky!" and he gave up with a huff.
"Just let it sink in," I soothed, grasping Takeshi by his bicep and pulling my dear over to the couch with me. "Let the cream sink in and then we can put him in clothes again."
"Yeah," Takeshi sighed and I kissed the corner of his mouth.
"Don't worry, if he tries to go outside like that we'll stop him. And bring it up when he gets older."
Takeshi grinned and cuddled into my side, pressing kisses to my cheek and the marks on my neck. We relaxed back into the couch and watched a freshly washed Miphy seasoning himself on the floor rug, twisting this way and that, his little paws up in the air.
"I had to use the skincare soap on him too," I murmured to Takeshi absently. "We really should just turn off the heater sometimes and give Bo-kun more blankets."
Takeshi hummed in agreement, smiling as he watched Miphy roll around until the pup was out of breath.
"Mama! It feels weird!" Lambo whined and clambered up into my lap. "I don't want it on anymore!"
"It only stings if your skin is really dry, baby," I said, and gave my boy a comforting hug when he went to hide in my chest. I reached for the bottle of moisturiser and read the label. "But if you really don't like it, next time Mama and Daddy go shopping, we'll try and buy a gentler one. Can you handle it until then?"
Lambo made a noise of complaint in the back of his throat but nodded, still rubbing his legs to try and get the cream to absorb faster.
Takeshi smiled down at Lambo, one of his hands playing with a little foot. Then he looked up at me, that same urging smile on his face as if to say 'see how nice it is here? Together?'
It was Saturday night, I was due to return to Kaede come morning. Takeshi had been trying to convince me all day.
I smiled back at him, we weren't going to talk about it in front of Lambo until we reached a conclusion. We didn't want to stress him out with uncertainties. He was still so fragile lately, especially now that he was without either of us during school hours. Lambo was never alone though, we'd never allow that.
Slow days at the shop, Tsuyoshi would have Lambo around and let him sample the latest recipes. Lambo had a review for everything, a little subtext in the menu that helped kids choose, and made the adults laugh. Lambo had been beaming for days after the menus had been reprinted, going around and telling everyone that it was him who wrote them.
If he wasn't at the shop, Lambo was off at the Sawada's under the watchful care of Nana. Those were definitely the days he caused the most chaos, slipping away to be a little vessel of destruction. But he was always blissfully exhausted when he came home, and would pass out as soon as Takeshi or I had him in our arms.
We weren't sure what was going to happen if I moved back with Kaede. Lambo would be down a parent.
Of course, I'd come see him nearly every day, and spend some nights. Maybe on the weekends. But the lack of consistency, the insecurity…
I frowned and buried a kiss in his curly hair, all nice and smelling of cotton flower.
Lambo hummed, still rubbing his legs, but the edge must have worn off.
"Are we ready to have dinner?" I asked and both boys sat up at the offer of food. Miphy flipped back onto his feet, tail and ear up. "Take that as a yes."
Takeshi grinned and kissed me quickly, before he got to his feet and headed off to the kitchen. I had prepared dinner earlier in the day, with Takeshi hovering over me the whole time, so all he had to do was turn on the stove to warm up the soup.
"Is Tsuyoshi-tou-san coming to sit with us, or is he having dinner in his office again?" I asked Takeshi as he spooned broth into a smaller saucepan and added his preferred amount of soy sauce.
"He should be coming," Takeshi said, and glanced at the clock. "Should be soon, actually."
“You hear that, baby? Grandpa’s coming to have dinner with us again tonight,” I cooed down at Lambo who grinned with vigour.
I scooped Lambo up into my arms and stood from the chair, pointedly ignoring how Takeshi glared at me. I rolled my eyes and bounced my boy, before grabbing his onesie off the couch’s arm.
“Okay, Bo-kun, that cream’s all sucked up, so that means you’ve gotta put pants on!” I smiled, and he immediately went slack in my arms, trying to make himself as heavy as possible.
“Don’t wanna!”
“Ah,” I warned, getting him back up, “Don’t be silly when Mama’s holding you. I can’t support you at the moment.”
Lambo blinked up at me, his chin tucked to his chest and his arms pulled tight. He frowned a bit and said, “Sorry, Mama.”
I hummed a bit, before pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.
“Thank you, we need to just remember Mama’s still a bit hurt. So we gotta be gentle and help me out sometimes, okay?”
Lambo nodded and I gave him a squeeze. He was very accommodating when I dressed him in his onesie, stepped in and even did up the zipper himself so I didn't have to lean down for so long.
“Good boy,” I smiled down at him and Lambo rocked back on his heels, all bashful at the soft praise. “Now, can you go feed Miphy his dinner?”
As soon as I said the magic word, Mephisto’s head popped up from underneath the couch blanket. The pup leapt off the couch and sprinted between Lambo and I, skittering across the floor until he stopped at his bowl, sitting so politely.
I looked at Lambo, “You think that means he’s hungry?”
Lambo let out a loud laugh and went off to scoop up a cup of Mephisto’s feed, chanting the phrase ‘feed time, feed time!’
I smiled and went over to Takeshi who was grumpily prodding some boiling noodles with the ladle, and wrapped my arms around his waist, pulling him a step back from the stove. He huffed and leant back into me, but didn’t look up even when I dropped my chin on his shoulder.
“He’s my son, Takeshi. I will carry him when I want to,” I said plainly.
“I know,” he murmured, reaching over to stir the pot as I kissed his cheek. “Just be gentle with it okay?”
“I will, I will,” I assured him, and pat his stomach before I pulled away. “I’ll set up the table.”
Tsuyoshi was all but dead on his feet when he dragged himself over to his seat. He dumped himself down on his chair and groaned, like every year had caught up with him at once and was directly attacking his joints.
“Come on, old man, stay with us,” Takeshi teased as he put a bowl of noodle soup in front of his father.
Tsuyoshi shooed him away and slumped back in his chair, letting the broth cool and his spine rest.
“Tough day in the office?” I asked with a laugh, helping Lambo up onto the raised seat and pushing him into the table.
“Saturday,” was all Tsuyoshi said and we all knew what he meant.
Takeshi brought over Lambo and my bowls of dinner and I caught his arm to kiss his cheek in thanks. Tsuyoshi was too tired to even try to glare at me this time, he had gotten used to it for the most part, but it seemed to be a habit, or token action now.
“Are you two doing better after a rest?” Tsuyoshi asked tiredly as he stirred his noodles.
Takeshi smiled a bit and put his hand on my arm. He turned to his father and said, “Yeah, we’re doing okay… Thanks for, you know, taking Bo-kun and Miphy on a walk this morning.”
I ducked my head a bit and hummed at Lambo who beamed, cheeks full of pork meatballs and soup. Tsuyoshi had stolen them away as soon as he had realised what kind of conversation Takeshi and I were having this morning, and not for the first time, I was so glad we had someone responsible around to help us.
“It’s no issue,” Tsuyoshi assured, waving his hand. “The boy was practically bouncing off the walls anyway.”
“Yeah, he has so much energy in the morning sometimes,” Takeshi laughed.
Takeshi squeezed my arm gently and I let my knee fall against his under the table. He hummed low in his throat, a soft, pleased sound that made me want to wrap Takeshi up in my arms and just lay down for the night.
But, of course, Takeshi just had to burn that dream for me. Instead of crawling into bed, baby in arms, and laying my head on my darling’s chest, I shuffled unsurely on the couch as Takeshi held my hand and Tsuyoshi stared us down.
At least I had managed to get Lambo to bed.
“So,” Tsuyoshi said, and I shrank back a bit. “Takeshi says you want to go back to Kaede-san tomorrow morning.”
I winced and mumbled out, “It’s been two weeks. I don’t wanna overstay.”
“But you’re not overstaying,” Takeshi insisted with a sigh.
“Takeshi’s right,” Tsuyoshi agreed, and I glanced to him, lips thin. “You haven’t overstayed your welcome, Daiki. If anything, you extend it every time you get that boy to do his own laundry.”
“Hey, wait, when did this become an attack against me?!” Takeshi yelped, and I laughed as I brought him closer to my side.
“Really, Daiki, you don’t have to rush back,” Tsuyoshi continued, and then gave me a look, so stern and so warm. “As a father, I really don’t want you going back into that environment. But--” he raised his hand when I twitched hard enough that Takeshi kissed my cheek. “If you really want to go back, I can’t stop you. Just understand that our door is always open. So long as Takeshi-kun does his laundry.”
“Tou-san!” Takeshi whined.
I nodded slowly when Tsuyoshi continued to look at me, waiting for my response. He hummed, before reclining back on the couch, still fatigued from work.
“So, let’s hear it. What are your plans for tomorrow, so far?”
Takeshi played with my fingers as I stewed on the question, turning the ideas over and over in my head. I shifted on the couch and pinched Takeshi’s fingers back, getting a gentle giggle out of him.
“I’ll go back,” I said, and ignored how Takeshi’s shoulders sagged. “I’ll go back, but I’ll leave some stuff here if that’s okay? I’ll try to talk to kaa-san, and if I don’t, you know, feel safe, I’ll stay here a while longer.”
Tsuyoshi nodded, “Sensible choice. I’ll leave the rest up to you two then. Just call if you need me.”
“Right, thanks tou-san,” Takeshi smiled at his father.
“Thank you, Tsuyoshi-tou-san,” I murmured, feeling a weird mix of sheepish and guilty for taking advantage of Yamamoto hospitality.
Tsuyoshi smiled at us, and laid his hand on my shoulder as he passed to go back to that quiet hum of the restaurant. Takeshi squeezed my hand, and I looked at him, still curled in on myself.
“It’ll be okay. I promise,” Takeshi soothed, “And you don’t need to go back right away tomorrow. Maybe in the afternoon?”
“Yeah, maybe after lunch with Bo-kun,” I agreed, before humming low as Takeshi pulled me to lean against his side.
“How are you feeling?” He asked gently, arm around my waist and his cheek pressed to my temple.
“A bit tired,” I admitted, before leaning heavier into Takeshi’s side and said, “A bit anxious.”
“Okay, that’s okay.”
“I don’t particularly, you know, want to go back,” I continued to say, and Takeshi quietened to hear me out. “I’d so much rather stay here with you, and our Bo-kun, and Tsuyoshi-tou-san but—” I took a slow breath, “But I can’t leave this situation alone.”
“I know,” he murmured, and squeezed my arm gently. “I know. I just wish I could help you more.”
“You already help me so much,” I told him with a short huff of laughter. “There are just some things that I’ve got to do myself, love.” I smiled at Takeshi as he continued to hold me like something precious. Cradled in his arms, I felt warm and safe. I shoved my face into his chest with a groan. “Tomorrow’s gonna suck.”
“Yeah,” Takeshi agreed grimley.
. . .
Despite everything, Takeshi seemed to make it his personal duty to make sure tomorrow did, in fact, not suck — for the most part.
I woke up to my Takeshi all but buried in my chest, arms wrapped tight around me and keeping that cold snap far outside our bed. He whined and urged, and I relented to spending a long, lazy Sunday morning in bed with him. We shared kisses from across the pillows and pressed our hands into each other’s skin, Takeshi quietly muttering ‘boobies’ under his breath like the immature bastard he was.
We only got up and had breakfast at the bay of our Lambo who came parading into our room around ten o’clock, our sweet boy looking well rested without any nightmares last night.
I cooed and played with my baby and puppy as Takeshi got brunch going for us on the stove, a warm, hearty noodle soup bubbling away in no time. Lambo squealed and rolled around under my tickling hands, panting and laughing while Mephisto bounced beside us, tongue out and tail wagging.
“Just let it boil for a minute,” Takeshi said, coming to sit on the floor with us.
“Daddy!” Lambo laughed and crawled over, trying to hide from my hands. “Daddy!”
“Aww my sweetie baby,” I teased as Takeshi wrapped his arms around our baby with a soft croon.
Takeshi smiled and fell back into my chest as he sat with us, Lambo bouncing in his lap. I hummed a low note of delight and laid my hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently when he glanced up at me.
“I love you,” I murmured to Takeshi, and he utterly beamed.
“I love you too, wife,” Takeshi said and I pressed a kiss on him.
Lambo whined and tugged at our shirts until Takeshi and I turned those kisses on him, squishing his cheeks and blowing on his belly as he squealed and laughed between us.
“We love you, baby!” I sang down at Lambo who rolled around on Takeshi’s lap in hysterics.
We ate our brunch and harnessed Mephisto up for a walk, Lambo up on Takeshi's shoulders and guided our way. I smiled and followed wherever our baby chose to go, walking through sections of Namimori’s suburbs we barely recognised. Quiet streets and winding walking trails, we followed them for the better part of three hours, just wandering where ever. Together.
Eventually, we came out the other end of a trail to some kind of artificial creek, fed by a drain pipe. Lambo begged to get down, and we let the boy run around and inspect pools of tadpoles.
“We’re telling him today, aren’t we?” Takeshi said quietly as Lambo shoved his arm elbow-deep into a mystery soup of mud and leaf water.
“We have to,” I responded, holding Mephisto’s lead so he wouldn’t try and chase the boy into that shallow stream. “I can’t just up and leave without warning.”
“Or, you could just stay.”
I gave Takeshi a sharp look out the corner of my eye and he just pouted. Then I sighed and bowed to pat the puppy at my side.
“Depending on kaa-san’s response, I might be.”
Takeshi didn’t say anything. He at least had the manners to keep his thoughts to himself at times like these.
I smiled and kissed his cheek.
“Shall we join our Bo-kun?” I asked, and Takeshi nodded.
We crouched down next to Lambo, balanced on rocks in the creek, Mephisto held tight to my lap. We ‘oo’ed and ‘ah’ed at Lambo’s finds, ranging from frog eggs to river-smoothed glass, our baby nearly frantic with giddy stimulation.
Then Lambo chose a good rock slab for us to sit upon on the shore, bathing in the sun like some kind of lizard.
Takeshi looked at me, and I smiled thinly.
“Bo-kun,” I began, and the boy looked up at me, peanut butter smeared in the corners of his lips as he paused demolishing his sandwich.
“Yeah, Mama?”
I tried to smile and pulled my knees up, wrapping my arms around them as I looked down at his little face.
“Mama’s going back to the house tonight.”
The House. Not ‘home’. That was how Lambo differentiated between the Yamamoto and Yamaguchi households now.
The House where Kaede lived. The House with the screaming. The House where Mama disappeared. The House where Lambo was alone.
I would never bring Lambo back there.
Lambo’s little face went pale. He turned and gave Takeshi the half-eaten sandwich, suddenly not hungry.
“Why?” He asked, voice quiet, gripping at his rolled up pantlegs.
“I need to deal with some stuff at the house,” I told him honestly. “Your grandma is still there.”
Lambo pulled a face and said, “Not my grandma.”
Takeshi made a proud expression from behind him and I gave my to-be spouse a warning look.
“Not your grandma,” I relented, and the boy gave a sharp nod. “But my mum. And my problem.”
Takeshi opened his mouth, but thought better of whatever he was about to say and closed it. Instead, he laid his hand on Lambo’s back in a show of silent support.
“I don’t know how long I’m going to be gone—”
“Mama’s leaving? ” Lambo asked, whipping his head around.
“I—” I paused and squeezed my legs tighter. “For a little bit. It will depend on how well things go when I visit tonight.”
“Mama and I are going to the house and talk to Kaede-san,” Takeshi said gently and I saw Lambo flinch.
“I don’t want to be alone,” Lambo insisted quickly.
“Tou-san will be with you.” Takeshi assured, but that didn’t seem to be enough for Lambo at the moment.
He shook his head and grabbed handfuls of Takeshi’s shirt, all but crawling into the Rain’s lap. Takeshi hushed and wrapped Lambo in a hug, swaying to rock the little boy.
“It’ll only be for a little while,” I said, shuffling over to close the gap between us. “I can’t ignore the house, Bo-kun.”
“I don’t want Mama to go there,” Lambo sniffled, refusing to look at me. “Daddy, tell Mama she can’t go. She has to stay at home.”
“I love you, baby,” I said down to him, bowing so I was at his height, “But there are things I have to sort out.”
I looked up at Takeshi and saw him frowning too.
“I’m sorry I’m not older,” I said gently, running my hand across Lambo’s back. “I’m sorry you have to be around while I deal with parents and teen angst. I’m sorry I can’t be a proper mum for you, Lambo.”
Lambo peered at me from Takeshi’s chest, eyes red and teary.
“I want to give you so much. But there’s so much to do,” I kissed his tear-tacky cheek. “I promise: I will deal with this, and then I will come home to you.”
Lambo sniffed up a noseful of snot and Takeshi went digging through his bag for tissues, helping the boy blow his nose.
“I’m sorry too,” Takeshi murmured, wiping the stray gunk. “I wish I was older for you, Bo-kun. I wanna be a good dad, like mine. But we have to come and go and we keep messing up—”
I reached out and gripped Takeshi’s arm, quiet comfort.
“We’re sorry, Bo-kun,” I said, and used my thumb to wipe at his tears. “We'll do our best for you. And when we’re older, we’ll make sure you’re never alone.”
Lambo needed to be carried back home, fast asleep on Takeshi’s back, face all red from crying. Looking at that little face made me feel worse than coming out of the Merone Base.
Takeshi held my hand the whole way home, and once again, I wished we were older, and could just skip it all. Skip to living together in our own house, skip to walking Lambo home from school, skip to picking out a theme for the nursery — skip to when life was our call. When I wasn’t a dependent, when I wasn’t in school, when I wasn’t balancing academia, Yakuza and my mother .
When I wasn’t sixteen, desperately trying to act like an adult without any of the perks.
I let out a shaky breath and Takeshi squeezed my hand.
“Are you sure you want to go tonight?” He asked.
I wiped at my face and nodded, “Let’s just get it over with. I want to move on.”
. . .
It was a Pavlovian response, when I got to my house. I saw the brickwork, that familiar white-on-green sign, and I started to grind my teeth.
“I’m not excited,” I said, and Takeshi glanced at me.
I swallowed. My voice had dipped lower. I hadn’t done that in a while, intentionally made my voice dip so far into masculine it sounded almost boarish. I already had a deep voice, so to push it that far — it sounded distinctly cartoonish now.
“It’s okay, wife,” Takeshi whispered to me, “I’m here.”
Wife. Ever the sportsman with his eye on the prize, Takeshi would always call it as he wanted. Even if it wasn’t yet , it would be.
And it would be okay. It just wasn’t yet.
Just like I would be his wife, as he called me every day.
I smiled at Takeshi and he touched my back with his whole hand, pressing his palm to my spine.
“Ready?” He asked, and I remembered him under summer sun all those years ago in the park, his baseball brand new.
“Ready,” I nodded.
I pushed my keys into the door and we walked into the Yamaguchi Bakery.
It was quiet.
That was the first sign something was wrong.
I frowned out into the space, all the lights off except for one lone lamp in the corner of the living room giving off a dull, feeble glow. It was hot to the touch, it had been on for a while.
Takeshi touched my shoulder and I glanced over to him, seeing his brows furrowed in confusion as he wordlessly asked why I was being so careful.
“Something’s…” I looked around, “Not right.” Then I called out to the house, “Kaa-san?”
No answer.
“Is she out?” Takeshi asked, sounding unconvinced by his own theory.
“Maybe,” I said, before calling out again, “Kaa-san! I’m back!”
There was a heavy thump from upstairs. Takeshi looked at me sharply, and I was already running up those stairs, swinging around the bannister. I could hear Takeshi running after me as I reached the hall landing, and grabbed at the doorknob of Kaede’s bedroom.
It didn’t budge, locked from the inside.
“Kaa-san?” I called, knocking on the door. “Kaa-san, it’s me. Are you okay?”
A long silence. Then another thud. The sound of something being dragged.
I looked over my shoulder at Takeshi who was just as alarmed as I was.
“Kaede-san?” Takeshi tried, grabbing the doorknob and giving fruitless twists. “Kaede-san, are you okay in there?”
No response at all.
“Daiki,” Takeshi whispered, pressing his hand to my arm. “Daiki, breathe.”
“I—” I took a sharp breath and tried to keep it going, trying to steady myself. “Kaa-san, I’m worried.”
A slow drag again.
“Break the door,” Takeshi said and I didn’t hesitate.
My foot kicked the door and it all but flew off its hinges before it hit the ground with a deafening bang. In an instant, my hand flew to my nose to cover the stench of urine and spoilt food.
Takeshi took two steps back and gagged.
The room was dark, but with that strip of light that came in from the hall, I spotted the sprawled out form of a woman on the ground. She looked bedraggled and oily, unwashed with her hair plastered down and clothes yellowing at sweat-points.
My mother looked horrible as she inched her hand across the floor.
“Kaa-san!” I shouted and ran into the room.
Takeshi palmed for the lightswitch and bathed the room in light, revealing the state of it all. Broken picture frames, plates of old, stale food, take-away bowls of mystery fluids, and so many bottles of cheap soju and beer. It littered the towel and sheet covered floors and utterly cluttered every flat surface.
“Kaa-san, kaa-san, hey!” I urged as I knelt beside my mother and rolled her over, trying to see her face.
Her skin was clammy and moist, her breath was erratic and slow and for the life of her, it seemed like she couldn’t find me even as I sat right in front of her. She blinked for a long moment, before she started to go slack in my hold.
“Takeshi!” I called, frantic, and he was already pulling out his phone.
“I’ll call an ambulance,” he assured me, but I could all but hear how fast his heart was going.
This was a new kind of stress, this was one we hadn’t dealt with before — or at least, I hadn’t. This was the second time Takeshi had walked in on a Yamaguchi woman nearly dead on the floor. His hands were shaking as he recited my address.
“Kaa-san, come on, stay awake,” I said to my mother, slapping her cheek gently to keep those unfocused eyes open.
She was lethargic, practically unresponsive. I needed to get her to hospital, to treatment, to help. I shouldn’t have left her, I should have stayed—
“Daiki,” Takeshi said suddenly and I nearly lurched when I felt his hand on my nape, “Daiki focus. Freak out comes later.”
“Right,” I croaked out, nodding shakily. “Right, sorry. I— Right.”
I took a long breath and lowered my mother back onto the floor, propping her on her side and using her arms and legs to hold her weight. She groaned at the handling, and I reached to push her hair out of her face, my fingers shiny as I pulled away.
It didn’t take long for the ambulance, and Takeshi helped pry me off my mother’s hand as the paramedics rushed to take my place. I stood to the side and squeezed his hands in my own, teeth grit and brows furrowed, hating those flashing red and blue lights and how they lit up the front of the bakery, usually white and green.
“Daiki, sweetheart,” Takeshi hushed as he cupped my cheek. “Hey, it’s okay. They’ll look after your mum for you.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I know,” I agreed, but didn’t let go of his hands once.
A paramedic came and asked questions while the others wheeled my mother up into the back of their vehicle, asking what she had taken, how much, if I knew of any conditions.
“I don’t know, I’ve been gone for two weeks. Things haven’t been good in the house,” I admitted, “But, she doesn’t have anything chronic. If that’s what you mean.”
The paramedic paused at my absence, but nodded nonetheless.
“Will you be coming with us?” She asked, and I heard the engine rev to life.
I looked at my mother, strapped up to machines that read her heartbeat. I looked at Takeshi, still gripping my hands like a lifeline.
“I’ll come,” I said, before turning to Takeshi, “You should go home. We can’t leave Lambo alone without warning.”
“But—” Takeshi began.
“You can come later,” I soothed, “But Lambo comes first. Tell your dad about the situation.”
Takeshi hesitated for a moment, before he nodded.
“Okay, keep your phone on, keep me updated.”
“Right,” I agreed, before we parted and I followed that paramedic into the ambulance.
We raced through the streets of Namimori and into the Central district with its highrise apartments and business parks. One of the medics told me we were on our way to Namimori Central Hospital, and I sent the address to both Takeshi and Ryohei.
Ryohei was incessant, concerned and confused as he tried to get a gauge on my health more than anything else. He made the required remarks about Kaede, but seemed mostly uninterested.
I pressed my phone to my forehead and tried to calm down.
“It looks like late stage alcohol poisoning,” the medics began to discuss among themselves. “Not the worst I’ve seen. She’ll come around.”
“Really?” I asked, looking at my mother, green and pale and looking all but half dead on that gurney.
“When we get to the hospital, we’ll get her on a drip and see if we need to help filter out the excess alcohol,” they told me gently, casually. This wasn’t the worst they had seen.
This was fixable. She was going to be fine. My mother was going to be fine.
I sat in the waiting room as they took Kaede through some doors and out of sight, calling out for pumps and oxygen. Once again, I was questioned, a little woman who looked just about as tired as I felt, taking down notes on what I knew.
“Your mum will be just fine,” she soothed as she ticked a few boxes. “We get tens of people in worse states than her every weekend. You can probably talk to her as soon as tomorrow morning, depending on how bad her hangover is.”
I tried to smile, but the nurse didn’t look like she was expecting me to anyway. She made a few more notes and then walked off, leaving me to sit alone again, palming at my phone.
It beeped, and I looked at the texts.
From: Favourite Stalker
On our way now. Lambo is with Tsuna and Hayato.
From: Sunny Boy
Kyoko and I are coming, be there in half an hour
Takeshi would take nearly half an hour too.
I closed my eyes and leant my head back against the wall. I wondered what I had done wrong, who I had pissed off. If this was my punishment for trying to derail whatever ‘fate’ bullshit had been put into place.
My phone buzzed again and I looked to see Tsuna had created a group chat, with its first message being a picture of Lambo and I-pin curled up under a blanket, with Mephisto’s little snout appearing from the corner.
From: Tsuna
Kids are here and safe. Don’t worry about them.
From: Hayato
Deal with the bullshit you’ve got going on, we’re chilling
From: Kyoko
Hayato! This is a very stressful time!
From Takeshi:
Thanks for babysitting!
From Ryohei:
Oh cool new chat
From Chrome:
Hi Daiki, I heard what happened, text us if you need to, we’ll be here
Kyoya’s account popped up and showed that he was working his way through the messages. Then he disappeared without a word.
I snorted loudly and quickly smothered it with the back of my hand. That was so like Kyoya to do. I wondered how Tsuna managed to get his hands on Kyoya’s number in the first place — before remembering how Takeshi had got the number.
From: Daiki
Thanks guys. I’m in the hospital waiting room right now. Apparently she’s got alcohol poisoning, so they’re gonna pump her. They say she’ll be okay though.
From: Kyoko
That’s good to hear. We’ll still see you soon though, just four more stops left.
From: Daiki
Text me when you get here and I’ll try to meet you
I sat there, every second seeming to crawl and yet every time I glanced at my phone chunks of time had passed. Ryohei and Kyoko were late, the trains were delayed, but Takeshi had his arms around me before I even realised he was there.
“Takeshi,” I murmured, and touched him on his arms.
“Hey Daiki,” he whispered back, the waiting room so quiet with equally anxious and woeful families and friends of other patients. “How are you?”
“I’m,” I thinned my lips and shrugged a bit, “Not well?”
“Sounds right,” Takeshi laughed and knelt in front of me, hands still on my shoulders. “Tou-san’s parking the car, he’ll be here soon.”
I nodded and Takeshi looked up at me for a moment, before he sat himself in the empty seat beside me. He reached for my hands and squeezed them in his lap, urging me to lean my weight against his shoulder.
“She’s gone in for alcohol poisoning?” Takeshi asked, and I nodded again. “But it’s not bad.”
I shook my head, “They said she’ll be awake by the morning.”
“That’s good,” Takeshi soothed.
Tsuyoshi came around the corner next, still dressed in his work uniform. He heaved as he came over, probably having run from the parking lot.
I looked up at the man who put his hands on his hips, looking down at the two of us with so much concern. I smiled weakly.
“Hi Tsuyoshi-tou-san,” I murmured.
“Hi Daiki,” he sighed and dropped down on the other side of me. “You left your charger.”
I blinked and took the phone charger from his hands with a soft thank you. There was a socket in the wall behind me and I plugged my phone in, dwindling at 30%.
Takeshi tugged on me gently and I leant on his shoulder again, twisting my body as if I was trying to hide behind him. He took it without complaint, still talking to the new group chat as I closed my eyes against it all.
Ryohei’s noise was a welcome distraction as he shoved his way into the waiting room. The reproachful looks from the nurses were ignored as both he and Kyoko crowded up against me, assurances and comfort spilling over.
“Bro, bro, how are we doing?” Ryohei fussed, crouching down in front of me and grasping me firmly on the knee. “Everything still working?”
I nodded wordlessly, cheek still propped up on Takeshi’s shoulder, my hands in his lap. I looked over as Kyoko came from the vending machine, her hands cradling a chocolate bar.
“I got you something sweet,” she said, quiet. Very aware of the stress in the room — we weren’t the only ones struggling here. The annoyed, frustrated glances were enough of an indication.
“Thanks, Kyoko,” I murmured and under their urging stares I nibbled blandly at the end.
I offered the rest to Takeshi, but he shook his head. His hand squeezed my bicep, thumb digging in just less than painful. It wasn’t bad, something to focus on other than the stale smell and stomach-numbing tension of the emergency room.
We stayed like that for… Hours, maybe. Watched triage nurses and patients come and go, the beeping of machines, the ring of phones.
Tsuyoshi got up to talk to the triage nurse, his voice low and terse, arms crossed. He signed something — something I as next of kin should probably have signed — and came back over to us.
“Kaede-san has been moved to a ward,” he said as I looked up at him from Takeshi’s shoulder. “She’s still asleep.”
“Do we know when she’ll wake up?” I asked.
Tsuyoshi shrugged, “In the morning, maybe later,” he gave me a concerned once over, “Do you want to stay and wait?”
It was a polite offer, but I could tell from his tone he wanted me to say no. Wanted me out of the emergency room and somewhere quiet and safe. I looked around at my friends, all of them waiting for my call. Ryohei’s hand was on my knee, squeezing now and then.
Tsuyoshi sighed and rubbed his eyes, “They can come too.”
“You don’t have to—” I started, seeing his fatigue but he waved me off.
“It’s just for tonight, and I don’t want these kids catching the trains this late,” Tsuyoshi glanced at the clock and put his hands on his hips. “Come on then, let’s head back. The nurses will call when your mother wakes up.”
Ryohei squeezed my knee again. Takeshi dug his thumb into my palm. Kyoko leant heavily on Ryohei’s side, watchful eyes never wavering.
“Okay,” I breathed out, and felt like the last of my energy went with it. “Thank you Tsuyoshi-tou-san.”
Takeshi sat in the front with his father while Ryohei and Kyoko crowded me in the backseat, sandwiching me between them in a way that drowned me in the scent of Sun. When the radio started to crackle, Takeshi turned it off. I tried to smile when I saw him staring at me through the rearview.
Kyoko bustled around the living room as Ryohei and I sat on the couch. Our little sister dragged spare futons and cushions into optimal arrangements, swiping the blankets and throws Takeshi came to offer. She threw half a dozen pillows on what was probably the head of the nest she had built before she was satisfied and turned her scrutinising eye on me.
“Do you want to take a bath?” She asked.
I didn’t want to. So much I didn’t want to. I just wanted to go to bed — but the memory of the stench of my mother’s room still clung to me.
“I’ll just rinse myself off,” I decided and all but dragged myself to the bathroom.
Takeshi stood next to me as I went to close the door. I blinked at him, my brain slow to process his presence. He stood quietly, unobtrusive.
“I don’t want you to be alone,” he said and shifted his weight a bit. “I, uh, won’t look or anything since we’re still working towards that but…yeah.” He glanced around, looking at the bathroom and then back to me. “Can I come in?”
I didn’t say anything. Just stepped out of the way. Takeshi closed the door behind him.
True to his word, Takeshi moved to the furthest corner of the bathroom where the spray wouldn’t reach him, and faced the tiled walls. I huffed, watching him grip the ends of his shirt.
“You look like you’re possessed or something.”
Takeshi gave a nervous laugh and scratched his cheek as he admitted, “I’m making it hard to peek.”
I smiled a bit at him as he made to cover his eyes with his hands, promising that he ‘really wasn’t’ going to sneak a glance. I walked over and grasped Takeshi by his elbows, bowing to kiss his exposed nape.
Takeshi jumped and laughed again. His hands didn’t move from his face.
“I trust you,” I assured, pressing my cheek to his shoulder. “Thank you, Takeshi.”
Takeshi made a happy if impatient sound and I stepped away, shucking off my clothes with a general disregard for where they fell. I span the tap on hot and let the spray scald my skin, burn off the scent of a hospital waiting room and sweated-out alcohol.
I scrubbed myself down with Lambo’s cotton flower soap until I couldn’t feel the oil from Kaede’s hair on my skin anymore. One of Lambo’s toy boats laid on its side beside the bottle, bright blue and yellow.
“All done?” Takeshi asked as I shut off the water and towelled myself off, rubbing my face with a vengeance.
“Still gotta put clothes on,” I said.
“Damn it.”
I gave a short scoff as I dressed, pyjamas warm and loose. I was glad I had decided to leave a few sets of clothes behind. My duffle bag was left sitting in the empty Yamaguchi Bakery.
I threw my towel over the rack before I got too caught on that trail of thought.
A happy croon tumbled from my throat as I bundled myself up in my pyjamas, warm and comfortable again after everything. Takeshi smiled as he turned, his hands already reaching for me.
“Feeling better?” Takeshi asked, pushing my hair out of my face as he pulled us from the steam-filled bathroom.
“Better,” I assured lightly, sleepily.
Kyoko was still punching a few blankets into submission when we returned to the living room, Ryohei buried as some kind of living space heater. Kyoko was quick to direct us to our ‘spots’, sandwiching me between Ryohei and Takeshi with the girl sitting vigilant.
I looked at Kyoko from over Ryohei’s bulk. She sat at the head of the bed, back against the wall. Her hands were busy with her latest knitting project, some kind of hat for Miphy, pink with rabbit ears. She didn’t look like she was going to sleep anytime soon, the way her eyes flicked around told me as much.
She never slept well at times like this. When I was in hospital after taking a punch meant for Ryohei, she had sat in the chair next to me for as long as her mother allowed, piles of colouring-in scattered around her. When Ryohei had been struck down by Ken, she had spent days fussing over him, crawling into his cot and scolding him for his ‘fall’.
As I looked at her now, my little sister, with bags starting to darken under her eyes and her fingers quivering as she twisted pink yarn, I realised she had only gotten worse since Future. I frowned and jabbed Ryohei, but he was already looking as I was, eyes trained on our sister.
Kyoko had the sense not to scream, everyone high strung as Takeshi’s nails dug into my clothes. A scream would have set everyone off. Instead, she gasped and flailed as Ryohei grabbed her by the ankle and dragged the girl down the bed. Kyoko huffed as the heavy blankets were dropped on top of her, arms pinned to her sides by Ryohei’s embrace.
“Daiki—” she began to whine, but I was already getting comfortable. Takeshi tucked to my chest and my back pressed up against Ryohei’s arms, his hand fisted in the back of my shirt.
“Go to sleep,” Ryohei grumbled, and Takeshi made a noise of agreement, muffled as it was.
Kyoko tried to move, pushing against me for leverage. I caught her hand with my own, her fingers cold in my grasp, and pulled her tight against my back.
“Kyoko,” I urged, cheek pressed against Takeshi’s crown, his warm breath blooming on my shoulder, the fuzziness of sleep creeping in. “Please sleep. We will be okay.”
She didn’t respond, but she didn’t move anymore. I could feel her heart beating against my back, pulse pounding. Then she buried her face in my back, squeezing my hand like a lifeline.
“We will be okay,” I assured her again.
“We’ll be okay,” Ryohei agreed, and I closed my eyes against the world and let the smell of Sun and Rain lull me to sleep.