Chapter Text
“...We’re not going back home, are we?”
Miyadera draws a long breath, fingers tapping rhythmically on the steering wheel. Flashes of street lights slip through the window and land across her arms.
They’d left the countryside about an hour ago and slowly were approaching the nearest city. She figured they’d be harder to track the more people were around. The analog clock on the dashboard flashes 4 am, with the only sound in the car being the quiet snoring of Hikari and Reimei, peacefully sleeping in the backseat.
She turns back towards her brother, riding shotgun with his head rested against the window. A few bags they couldn’t fit in the trunk sat at his feet and on his lap.
“No, Korekiyo.” The car speeds up a bit. “We’re not.”
. . .
Miyadera Shinguji was the oldest of a family of six, three younger siblings and two assholes she didn’t think deserved the title of mother and father. Rich business associates with a comfortably big house in the country. When the two were home, the house was a strung together with tension from each family member, rather it be in anger or fear. When mother and father came home, no happiness could be found.
Hikari, the 2nd youngest, a 10-year-old girl with short black hair tied back in a ponytail, most happy in a big warm sweater. Loud and bright, enthusiastic to talk to anyone. She always became quiet when their parents were around, constantly scared of getting yelled at for being too obnoxious- or worse.
“Can’t you talk louder?” She’d ask one night when Miyadera sat on the girl bed, reading her a bedtime story.
Miyadera hummed, fumbling with the corner of a page. “Not right now, sis.”
Hikari pouted and turned to bundle in her sheets, sighing into the pillow.
“We get to have more fun when mom and dad aren’t around.”
She couldn’t help but wince at that. Parents ignoring a punk almost adult first child? Rude but fine to deal with. But the fact that even Hikari liked it better when they weren't around? Concerning.
. . .
“I failed math.” Was the tight-lipped answer from Reimei, with the question being why he was crying up in his room.
The youngest of the family, Reimei was the shyer and the wanderlust-driven kid. Tall for his age with glasses behind curious eyes. An adventurer.
“Well, you’re not expected to be perfect at a subject in 2nd grade.” She replied, drawing him in for a hug.
“M’ hungry.” He murmured into her arm, tugging on her jacket. “Dad said no dinner.”
Miyadera froze, looking down at her little brother. “Sorry, what?”
Reimei drew away, looking down and trying to clear the tears in his eyes. “Says it’s cause I’m never getting to school on time.”
Well, that would be because their parents don’t care enough to take the younger ones to school. Miyadera had to learn how to drive earlier than most to do so, and get a late job to pay insurance, and often got home late because of said fact. She didn’t go to school anymore, working because they refused to give money. Maybe if her parents were oh so kind enough to take care of their kids, this wouldn’t have happened.
She doesn’t say any of that, though, and promises to take Reimei to a diner once Mother and Father were asleep.
. . .
Of course, she’d considered it. Running away from home. Getting the hell out of dodge. Ditching them for how they’d raised the family. Honestly, it’s not like they’d care. She’d disappeared overnight from time to time. They weren’t home more than once a week, if not less.
The biggest problem was her siblings. Leaving herself would be easy, she had a care and enough money saved up to get off okay. Always independent, street smart. A rebellious teenager with a cause. Sticking it to the man.
But she couldn’t abandon the people she cared about most. They didn’t have much family Mother and Father let them visit, so it was an all or nothing situation. Stay here or leave with everyone.
About once a month she’d take everything out of her bank account, pack up a suitcase, and sit on her bed, blankly staring at the wall. Ready at a seconds notice to be gone, but each time, Miyadera would reconsider, scared of the rebuttal of her parents, and unpack with soft tears.
. . .
Two weeks before her 18th birthday was when the decision was made for it. Whenever Mother and Father were home, they were yelling at the younger ones, being far too frustrated with Reimei or refusing to give help to Hikari. Tension had been building for everyone. Hikari got quieter, trying to suck up so she’d been less scared, but nothing was working. They were cracking.
When Miyadera came home from another off end job, tired and annoyed and ready to sleep for 3 hours, she found the bathroom light from her brother's room on, the door slid open and muffled sniffling come from inside. When she knocks, anxious, it quickly stops. A second later, Korekiyo emerges, holding a straight face. His cheeks are red from crying though.
She knows how much Korekiyo hates people reading his emotions. It’s a weakness, vulnerability. Straight-faced and unknown was his strategy. Miyadera was the opposite, unafraid to be open with her opinion. She talked without hesitating on quirking up her words. Letting people know exactly how she felt.
Even with conflicting ways of going about day to day, the two were close. Miyadera was protective. Korekiyo was easily overshadowed and manipulated. Shy. She had to be there to push him forward.
So despite immediately being worried, she looked him up and down, eyes glinting with questions. They landed on his arms crossed over each other, laced with a few bandages hanging off. Under them, recently bloomed bruises were dusted in a deep blue.
Miyadera lifts her own hands and traces the wounds, trembling more than Korekiyo is. She looks up, meets his eyes for a split second, and stares back down. Worry turns to anger and she jerks away, grabbing at the wall before she does something stupid.
She then asks a question she already knows the answer to. Just doesn't want to believe it.
“Who?”
It should really be, ‘what happened,’ but she’s well aware these are human inflicted.
Korekiyo tilts his head to the side, to the direction of their parent's room.
It was in that moment she made the decision. Of course, she doesn’t say anything for now. Sighs, slowly brings him in for a hug. Unlocks the medicine cabinet, carefully fixing up the bruises. She grits her teeth every second. Outloud, she’s reassuring Korekiyo. Saying it won’t happen again.
(Of course, it will. Mother and Father have always been a bit rough- but this is terrifying. Because it will just get worse.)
In her head, she’s planning. Calculating how much money the smallest apartment will cost. Mentally packing bags. Figuring out how far away they can get before she doesn’t have enough for gas.
Maybe her siblings will hate her for this. Thinking they were better back home, living in fear and isolation. Or maybe this will be the thing they need to be happy. Perhaps a little bit of freedom will be enough. She doesn’t know, and it’s terrifying. Instead of voicing these thoughts, she stifles Korekiyo’s sadness and helps him clean up. Mother and Father knowing he was crying would just make things worse.
Miyadera got away with the most, being the first child. Allowed to be a bit rebellious. But Korekiyo, they could get away with manipulating him constantly. She couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t deal with any of her family getting abused by two demons who thought they had the right to be called parents.
. . .
And so, Miyadera spent the days leading up to her 18th birthday organizing. Secretly packing. Since they lived in isolation, getting in contact with other family members was difficult. She asked for money without drawing suspicion. Sucked up to Father to give the kids dinner- they would be running short on food money for the first week or so. Worked overtime. Didn’t sleep for the last few days at all, researching about legality issues up in the AM.
She thanks the heavens Mother and Father didn’t give a shit about her for once, for her birthday was spent alone, locked in her room for stealing from the fridge. Luckily, she’d learned how to lockpick years ago, and waited till the clocked ticked far enough, into legal adulthood.
“I need you to wake Reimei and Hikari up.” She asks, flicking the light on to Korekiyo’s room, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. Leather jacket over a sweater vest and long sleeve button up. The more she didn’t have to pack, the better. Dazzled up with a layer of makeup, bright red lipstick pristine. She’d stolen it all from Mother’s room as a bit of petty revenge.
Korekiyo squints at the harsh light, a bit out of it from being awake at 1 am. Whilst Miyadera begins walking around, picking a few things off his shelf, he throws on a t-shirt and sits up, still huddling under a blanket.
“What are we doing?” He asks, watching her intently. Miyadera shovels a book under her arm.
“Well, you’re waking up the other two while I start packing for you.”
Korekiyo sighs and grabs a pair of reading glasses off his bedside table, finally awake enough. “Actually, I more asked, ‘what are you really doing?’”
She pauses, turns around, meeting his eyes. “The only thing we can do, at this point.”
“Right.”
Miyadera shoves a few more books in her arms, starts to leave. Scared.
“Kind of a bad birthday present?” Korekiyo says, and she hears him stretching out of bed.
“Nah.” She twirls out the doorway, unstable from the weight are her shoulders. “The best one I could ask for.”
They start packing.
. . .
At about 5 am, Hikari wakes up, and immediately leans over the shotgun seat, bugging Korekiyo with a question every two minutes. It should be annoying, but it’s preferred to silence.
“Are we going on vacation?”
“Not exactly.”
“Is it somewhere fun?”
“This isn’t twenty questions.” Korekiyo looks over at her helplessly. Miyadera chuckles.
“We could play twenty questions, though.”
He gives her a desperate look. Hikari grins, bouncing in her seat. “Yay!”
. . .
The apartment is small, broken down and cold. An uninviting cheap mess. There's not much furniture, to begin with. One rusty counter and a cupboard hanging off its hinges in one main room. One side room where Miyadera dumps Hikari and Reimei’s bags down. They'd go bed shopping tomorrow. She's exhausted.
A tiny second flight of stairs leads to two small adjacent rooms separated by a bathroom.
”You get the window room.” Miyadera says, tossing Korekiyo’s backpack at him. She looks miserable.
”Why’s it so tiny?” Hikari calls from the front room, and they can see her from the stairs, sitting on the empty counter. Reimei is on the floor with a book Korekiyo gave him in the car, eyelids flickering from tiredness. He hadn’t slept after Hikari nudged him awake to play 20 questions.
”It’s to fit your size.” Miyadera yells back as she investigates the bathroom, still managing to crack a joke. He can hear voice dripping with sleepiness, though. She did just drive for 8 hours straight, and he's assuming she hasn't slept well.
They both make their way into his new room, peering out the window together. It's not much of a view, the apartment in the most rundown area of the city. He can see a few shops down the road from here. Smiling people walking out with bags. It gives him a sense of hope.
”Are you going to tell them?” Korekiyo asks after a moment of silence, Miyadera lost in thought. ”That this isn't a trip, I mean.”
She hums, resting fingerless gloved hands on the window sill. Expressionless.
”Soon. If we aren't in jail by tomorrow.”
A smile plays on Korekiyo’s lips, hidden behind a scarf wrapped around his neck. He’d always been self-conscious, and it was cold away. ”Technically, only you'd go to jail, since you're 18.”
She tries to smile back, but it's obviously fake, and looks pained. He sighs and rests on the window sill too.
”Promise you'll tell them though?” He asks, turning towards his sister.
”I will.”
He holds out a hand, pinky finger extended. Miyadera scoffs, but compiles, linking them together.
”I promise.”