Chapter Text
Saburo was finishing up his homework for the day when he noticed it: Jiro’s been paying less and less attention to his assignments each day. The idiot was sitting at their yorozuya’s receiving desk, his workbooks forgotten in favor of sorting through recent requests and ignoring Saburo’s insults, letting them fall flat and on dead ears, only entertaining them once by replying about how the nitty-gritty of whatever math or science assignment he has won’t be that helpful when he graduates high school and grows the hell up. Saburo couldn’t say anything back.
He can only pretend to unnecessarily review his own exercises, wait impatiently for their big brother to come back from an emergency request that left them bringing the schoolwork they were (read: should have been) working on down with them to office-sit while he was out, so Jiro can quit pretending like he’s an adult already. Sometimes when Jiro busies himself trying his hand at the little micromanagements that make their business work, it becomes convincing.
Not that Saburo wants to acknowledge that, so he lets the thought leave him with a sigh and turns his gaze away from him. Less than to avoid fueling Jiro’s stupid ego the way it does when he’s praised for doing things right every once in a while, Saburo just can’t find it anywhere in him to want to encourage the guy to abandon his un/compulsory education to focus on everything else he’s been honing his other smarts for. The older he gets, the farther down that path he goes, and stray and stumble through it as he might, at the end of it is becoming some of the only things Saburo’s overcalculating mind can’t come to accept in understanding.
Jiro’s seen enough for a seventeen-year-old to at least understand that this world is ruled by filthy adults, those that won’t think twice before turning their backs on him and tossing him aside, people at the ready to take advantage of his kindheartedness to deceive and hurt him, enemies that will go out of their way and resort to tricks, backhanded and underhanded, to tarnish his pride in himself and his family because fist fights and hypnosis mics just don’t cut it.
But it’s inevitable. There’s a course these things follow, universal laws, like how the tides push and pull as the moon revolves around the earth while it rotates. The only bit missing from the equation is how long it’ll take before Jiro actually ups and leaves him behind, to join those wretched adults in their world. Begrudgingly, when he acts like he’s more than just a brat like Saburo, it isn’t hard to imagine that he’s already on his way. And all that will be left for Saburo is just to acknowledge it as another bitter truth of life. That’s if Jiro would shut up and let him simmer in it.
When Saburo looks back, Jiro’s given up on filing the paperwork because he sucks at it, though he also sucks at math and science which is what he’s loudly scratching his head at, grumbling about. “What’s any of this even mean?! Explain it to me!” He’s waving his arms around like mad now, trying to catch Saburo’s attention, steal it away from whatever’s put that gloom, cynical look on his baby face. “Before Niichan comes home, help me out!” he demands, moving to bang a palm down on the table to make a show of his irritation and invitation. “Hate to admit it but in the end, I still need to pass these classes to graduate… Get over here, Saburo!”
Saburo can’t quip out a comeback before his body moves; he’s allowed himself a cringe, but he can’t stop himself from getting up and striding away from the coffee table towards the desk, half-heartedly muttering about Jiro’s hopelessness and helplessness. Jiro’s turned out to be really weak with terms and numbers, and while Saburo can lament his poor IQ, he can also just use it as an excuse to be with Jiro for longer.
Saburo will complain plenty about why a genius like him has to meet an idiot like Jiro in the middle, about how he simply has no choice but to go along with him, because who could leave a simpleton like him alone? But Saburo won’t feel anything aside from a rehearsed frustration. And relief.
Everything that rises sets, and everything that grows, grows old. But thankfully, Jiro isn’t going to set just yet.