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Yuuta wakes up in a haze.
The bed is cold, and Yuuta is too tall. His feet hang over the edge, a childlike fear still hovering within him. What if a monster gets him in the dead of night?
(yuuta doesn't know why he is still so scared of monsters. he’s been one for a long time)
His fists ball into one of his blankets. They’re all incredibly thin, and no matter how many he piles on, Yuuta is still cold. He should be used to waking up like this.
He isn’t.
But that’s okay. When he closes his eyes he can pretend that he is warm, that he is loved. If Yuuta is cold then his soulmate can warm the bed, can love him unconditionally despite his long, (getting longer) lanky limbs, and his sickly skin.
His soulmate must be up early, he decides, as his eyes flit over the sheets. They’re ill-fitting for his bed, and the comforter doesn't match the sheets. None of his many blankets do, and neither does his one pillowcase. His variety of blankets don’t go together at all, like someone hit a button for his bed and just went with the first randomly generated option.
That someone was Aniki, who just took whatever he could from the thrift store.
Looking down at the forest green blanket, he absentmindedly runs his fingers over the worn, worn knitting. Aniki has no taste for design, no eye for this stuff at all. It’s embarrassing, he thinks, because what if a boy came over? What if a boy came—(not his soulmate not his soulmate could never be his but what if )—what if a boy came, and he saw Yuuta’s drab, non-coordinated bed sheets?
He closes his eyes. breathes. opens them.
The sheets are clean and new, crisp white contrasting against his new navy blue comforter. Yuuta smiles. What a mature taste his soulmate has. He’s still not in bed with Yuuta, but that’s okay. He’s probably downstairs making breakfast, and doesn’t that make Yuuta preen?
Breakfast...being cooked for...being loved enough to be fed… well! Yuuta can only imagine food made out of love and not necessity, a breakfast that normal kids eat daily. He yearns for it. Something cooked, something warm after being cooked on the stove...Yuuta dreams of many things but this is one of the dreams that Yuuta really treasures. The day he can wake up to this will be a day to remember.
Now Yuuta is awake, making sure to keep an ear out for sounds coming from the kitchen as he changes out of his too-small, too-tight, he's had these since before mom died, pajamas. That’s okay, though. There’s a sentimental value, he thinks, because there’s no other reason why he would still wear these. Why would he? Life is good. His soulmate is just around the corner. He is loved.
(absentmindedly, yuuta reminds himself to tell aniki he needs new pajamas. he knows money is tight right now but so is the faded shirt on his chest, sleeves only long enough to reach his elbows when they should reach his fingertips)
He digs through his closet—there’s not much, but that’s okay, minimalism is in right now—and he pauses when it hits him that he has no clean pants.
That’s okay. That’s okay. It’s okay. Everything is fine.
It’s fine, it is, because Yuuta can just put on a pair he already wore this week. Maybe, he thinks idly, they’re his soulmate’s favorite. Yes. That makes perfect sense. He’s wearing his soulmate’s favorite pants again, because he likes how they fit on Yuuta.
(when he gets home after school he needs to wash his clothes. he has to. this can only be a one day occurrence, yuuta is already the weird creepy quiet friendless twin he can’t add dirty or smelly to the mix. he can’t )
That’s perfect, he thinks, buttoning up his gakuran.
(it’s supposed to be black but now it looks more like a dark grey...yuuta hopes they can fix it soon. he doesn’t want to get in trouble because he broke the dress code)
Yuuta does a lot of thinking, rather than speaking, but that’s okay because he spends most of his time thinking about his soulmate.
(rather than trivial things like “did dad forget to pay the electricity bill again?”)
Yuuta stumbles around the room as he looks for his bag. He needs a light, his hand fumbling blindly for the light switch. He flicks it.
On. Off. On. Off. On. Off. On.
(he did forget. or maybe he didn’t. maybe he did this on purpose. yuuta wouldn’t put it above him)
That’s okay. He finds his schoolbag soon enough, anyways, and Yuuta’s soulmate is enough of a light in his dark, dark world.
He turns.
Worn out sheets.
New adult comforter.
They begin flickering together. Dirty purple replacing crisp white. Navy blue rather than forest green.
However.
The one unchanging thing, about both images, are the sheets only being disturbed where Yuuta slept.
(he pretends he does not see it)
The kitchen is empty when Yuuta walks downstairs, the coolness of the floor seeping into his body through the holes in his socks.
The kitchen is always empty, though. The pantry barely stocked, bar for a few scattered protein bars and rice cakes. As for the fridge—the...the electricity is off. Yuuta should go put the little amount of meat they have in the garage, before they spoil. He should.
But he doesn’t like the garage.
Opening up his school bag, he grabs the first piece of paper he sees. He uses his only pen, the one he found on the floor of his math classroom a week or so ago, to write a note for Aniki. It takes a while, because Yuuta knows he’s not very good at spelling and so he writes very slowly, thinking through every word he places onto the sheet.
It’s nothing too important. It’s just about the meats, and reminding Hinata to wear a coat when he goes out to perform today.
He hasn’t been to school in three days—not Yuuta, Aniki—and it’s all because they get less money performing in winter, so one of them has to work extra hard while the other goes to school. Aniki skips, normally, because he’s good with people.
(that’s not the actual reason, yuuta doesn’t know the actual reason. hinata never tells him anything that could even be remotely worrying. he hates it. so, yuuta just made up his own reason, and he thinks it’s a pretty good one)
Hinata is good with people. The kids at school don’t mind him, unlike Yuuta. The adults on the street like his easy smiles more than Yuuta’s shaky expressions, (hinata always brings home more money than yuuta). Hinata is good at finessing things to go his way, talking down prices of already clearanced food, bringing himself down so the workers at the thrift store take pity on him and give him a free blanket.
No matter how hard he tries to copy Hinata’s easy grins—the sparkle in his eyes, he can never get it right. So much for two-in-one. Even when compared to someone so similar to him, he is still the monster.
It’s not okay, but maybe if Yuuta says it enough then it will be.
(for someone who claims he can’t tell the difference between them it always feels like dad hates yuuta most)
Aniki is sleeping right now, (he came home late last night), so he’s not awake to see Yuuta off to school.
He doesn’t want to be alone right now, so he’s not. His soulmate is here, and even though he didn’t make breakfast he did pack Yuuta a lunch full of love.
Yuuta leaves the house, hand warm compared to the rest of his body. (his soulmate is holding it. they walk to school together).
It’s a nice walk, despite the brittle winter air biting at Yuuta’s face, his cheeks and nose burned red by the cold.
That’s okay. It’s not because he doesn't have a scarf, his soulmate just called him cute, and he's flustered. Already, Yuuta feels warmer.
Pretending is the only thing he can do. Aniki does all the work, leaving Yuuta to sit, alone, with nothing but his mind to talk to. Nothing but his dreams, and his wishes to be whisked away from his awful life by some sweet prince charming.
(a prince who can provide him with the unconditional love his upbringing forgot to)
And so he walks, all the way to the school gate, his soulmate the only thing keeping him afloat in his tsunami of a mind.
For the most part, Yuuta likes school.
The heat hits him full force as he steps into the building. It’s always a relief after spending time in his home, and in the summer there is air conditioning, ready to provide him refuge from the sweltering sun.
There are plenty of cute boys in his class, and even if no one talks to him, he can pretend to be a normal human just like them. Just Yuuta, and his many crushes-of-the-week, pining after someone who lets him borrow a pencil.
(it’s sad, isn’t it, how he latches on to anyone who is even remotely nice to him? he doesn’t know the boy who gave him an eraser, or the other who helped him with his spelling homework, and yet when he goes home that night they’re his soulmates, his knights in shining armor, treating him with care as they help fix all of the cracks that living in his house has created in him)
He takes notes in every class. Aniki’s not here, but he’s a worse student than Yuuta. Small victories, Yuuta supposes. It’s hard for him to read, but Hinata can’t focus on anything. Every day Yuuta spends time recalling what they did in class that day to him, and it always takes hours for it to click.
When he's not taking notes he’s pining. Kurashiki-kun gave him a pencil yesterday. Yuuta Kurashiki. A week ago Yamada from Class C smiled at him in the hall. Yuuta Yamada. Yuuta Momota. Yuuta Tanaka.
Anything is better than Aoi.
He knows this for a fact, dreams of no longer being tied to his dad, to that house. His wedding pinterest board has hundreds of additions. It’s a distant fantasy, but it is his fantasy. His way of pretending that someday everything will be okay.
(the only good thing about that house is aniki. they're stuck together, forever, because who else will care for them other than each other? monster understands monster)
((but yuuta craves normality. he wants to be sweeped off of his feet by a normal boy with a nice family who will love and care for him despite his hollow eyes. his frail body. his terrible, wretched soul hiding away inside of him))
Yuuta dreams of a boy to sweep him off his feet, as he slowly writes his notes for Aniki, idly pretends nothing is wrong as the minutes tick by until lunch arrives.
Yuuta always sits by himself at lunch. On the rare days of school where he and Hinata attend at the same time, Aniki will join him at his lonesome table in the back of the cafeteria. Aniki isn’t here right now, but that’s alright. Even if Yuuta is alone now, he can always pretend that his soulmate is sitting right alongside him, their legs brushing together.
It grounds him. Eventually, someone will be there for him. Someone will want to sit next to him, will want to cook for him, will want to love him.
Yuuta can only dream.
His lunch is leftover rice from last night and a quarter of a loaf of stale bread.
(dad isn’t home often, leaving for weeks at a time. he never buys any groceries, or leaves any money for them at all)
The rice is oddly soggy—it’ll surely be as awful as it was last night, the texture making him gag. But he had to feed himself since Aniki was still away and putting rice in the rice cooker seemed easy enough.
(yuuta doesn’t know what they’ll do now that the electricity is out for an indefinite amount of time)
He must have added too much water.
The bread is edible enough, though, and putting the rice on it makes it easier to eat.
His legs swing against the bench, feet hitting the table occasionally. He’s not much of a good cook, so he imagines his soulmate as a good one. Someone who can make big, delicious meals that actually fill Yuuta up.
It’s only a matter of time until he meets him.
Lunch ends, and Yuuta isn’t content as he stands, vertigo overtaking him for a moment. His hand grips the edge of the lunchroom table so tight his knuckles glow white. The dizzy spell passes. He’s okay. Yuuta resumes packing his belongings to head back to class, pretending that he is fine all the while. His soulmate sat with him, promised to make something good for dinner, to walk him home. Just the thought of it causes a small smile to curve onto Yuuta’s lips.
He forgets to take notes for the last few classes, mind occupied by daydreams, but that’s okay. He thinks about his soulmate, about what highschool will be like—will Yuuta meet him there? His mind races as he daydreams about romantic nights out, first kisses, moving in together and getting out of his house.
He can’t wait, his fingers twitching against the empty page of his notebook as he imagines his escape.
His walk home is slightly warmer than his walk to school, but it doesn’t really feel that way to Yuuta.
The house will be empty, he knows, with Hinata out working for the two of them, performing on the frosty streets for passerby’s spare change.
He hopes Hinata read his note and put the meat in the garage—that was supposed to be dinner sometime this week, and it’ll be a waste if they aren’t able to cook it.
Yuuta hops along the sidewalk, the movement in his legs heating his body up just a little. If he stepped on a crack would the pain transfer to his dad? Mom can’t feel it anymore, so maybe it would.
(in that case, yuuta’s feet press against any opening in the sidewalk he can find. it may not do much, but what else is he capable of other than this?)
As he hop, hop, skip, jump, stomps his way home, he hopes it hurts.
Yuuta always does his homework first thing when he gets home.
It’s important for him to understand what he’s doing, because if he doesn’t then Hinata definitely doesn’t, and Aniki needs to pass class too.
They have a plan, see, to become idols. A two in one duo that won’t be much of one if Hinata’s held back a grade. The idol industry is thriving, a surefire way to make sure he and Aniki are financially secure.
(the fact that the both of them thrive off of performing, of attention , is just a bonus)
He sits at their rickety kitchen table, the chair he's sitting on creaking with every bounce of his leg. If he falls, he hopes his soulmate will catch him.
He sort of feels like he's falling right now, his mind blank as he tries to remember what was taught in his afternoon classes. He should have taken notes.
He bites his lip as he thinks and thinks, each answer he prints down taking forever to come to the forefront of his brain. His tongue sticks out of his mouth as he concentrates. Yuuta wonders if he looks cute. He hopes he does, he hopes his soulmate thinks he is.
(every time he looks in the mirror. he sees his mother. he blinks. he sees a monster)
The hours tick by as he does his work, reads his textbooks, calculates his algebra problems. Hinata still isn’t home. He’s hungry.
The meat is no longer in the refrigerator.
Yuuta doesn’t like the garage.
He’s hungry.
The meat is in the garage.
He opens the garage door. He stands, staring into the darkness of the abyss. Dad’s car is gone, but that’s to be expected. Yuuta is torn between relief and resentment.
(why do they have to care for themselves why can’t dad love them why does yuuta have to cook dinner in the dark when he doesn’t know how why why why )
(but at least he’s not home. yuuta is safe for another day.)
He hates the garage.
He steps carefully, soft steps against the hard concrete almost silent. He keeps his head on a swivel, eyes flitting from shelf to shelf, searching for his dinner.
He’s careful but he’s distracted and it takes him too long to look down only to find a cockroach at his feet. He freezes, feels stupid for not noticing before because now the only thing he can hear is the skittering of their movements, paired with the occasional hiss. It’s crawling closer. There are more in the garage. Yuuta hates the garage.
It crawls on his shoe. Yuuta wasn’t paying attention and it crawled onto his shoe . He screams and flails, leg in the air as he tries to shake it off. He hates the garage he hates the garage he hates this house he hates the garage he HATES it here.
Yuuta should be used to this, finding creepy crawlies in the kitchen and just about any other room in the house, but he’s not. He never will be. His skin crawls at the sight of them and he’s screamed for Aniki to help him kill one too many times for it to be normal. He does not think as he runs back into the house.
(he hates it here he hates it here he hates it here he hates it here he hates it here)
...
It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s fine.
It’s alright. Yuuta is being held in the arms of his soulmate, strong muscles grounding him, slowly causing his full body shudders to cease. It’s okay. Yuuta doesn’t need to be scared. He’s not alone. He’s loved. He may be trapped in this house but for now he is loved because his soulmate is here and it’s okay. it’s good. Life is not good but it will be because his soulmate calmed him. He can think.
Yuuta is not going back into the garage.
That’s fine. He’s thinking. There’s still some rice cakes in the pantry. Yuuta saw them. They have peanut butter too. He can...that can be his dinner. It’s okay.
His hands still tremble as he opens the door to the cupboard, but that’s alright. He’s just cold. His soulmate will always be there to keep him warm.
The water is still on.
Yuuta dreads going into the shower anyways, because while the water is on the electricity isn’t. So the water, while clean, will freeze him down to the bone.
He needs to shower, though. He doesn’t know if— when the water will turn off.
He steps into the shower, and the water is as frigid as he thought it would be. Despite that, no matter how much he had tried to prepare himself for it, he was still shocked by the icy temperature that engulfed him.
He’s so cold.
Yuuta always feels cold, now.
He wishes he didn’t.
He finishes his shower as soon as he can, shivering every few seconds as he towels himself dry. He slips on an old pair of sweatpants—although they fit more like capris now—and a t-shirt Aniki got for free by crashing some family reunion picnic. His hair is still wet. He turns to the mirror to towel it off but,
He pauses.
(he sees his mother he wants his mother he misses his mother would she miss him?)
Yuuta doesn’t know if he ever wants their family to be reunited. He doesn’t really remember his mother, but the happiness he felt when she was alive haunts him. What if she came back? Would she love him? Did she ever love him? Or would she see him as the monster he truly is, some kind of wrong presence in her son’s body?
The latter terrifies him. Just the indulgence of his thoughts on the latter makes his stomach churn, peanut butter and rice cake crawling up his throat. The possibility that even if she were alive he wouldn’t be loved...he towels his hair dry with shaking hands.
He’s cold.
Yuuta thinks about his soulmate. Being accepted into his soulmate’s family, bonding with his in-laws.
The weight on his back lifts, ever-so slightly.
It’s alright. Yuuta is loved. He will be loved.
He should do his laundry, now.
Yuuta grabs his clothes, having so little that he can carry all of it in one trip. After a second thought, he grabs Hinata’s too.
Aniki works so hard, meanwhile Yuuta does nothing for hours on end. It would only be right to do this, to feel like he’s contributing something to their livelihood.
Put the plug in the sink. Let the sink fill up with (cold) water. Scrub everything until your hands are pink and raw, numbed by the cold. Take a break, it’d be bad to get frostbite. They can’t afford to treat it. Yuuta doesn’t want to lose any fingers. Resume the laundry. Hang the clothes to dry over the shower curtain. Rinse and repeat.
Aniki still isn’t home. It’s dark out.
He’ll be home soon. It’s okay.
The laundry is done. It’s dark out. Yuuta should go to bed.
But first, he brushes his teeth.
It’s cold. It shouldn’t be, because Yuuta is under two sheets, five blankets, and one comforter, but the quality of these blankets still let the chill get to him.
It’s cold.
(along with the electricity, the heat must have been turned off today. yuuta wasn't this cold last night, he's sure of it)
It’s cold.
Yuuta needs to feel something .
As he lays in the dark, Yuuta wishes his soulmate was here.
Here to hold him..to cuddle him..to comfort him.
Yuuta wishes he was here right now, to whisk him away as he shivers in the dark. It’s okay. Yuuta closes his eyes. His face scrunches up as he does, brows furrowing and nose twitching as he tries to will himself to feel warm .
Soulmates, a dream home, another pin on his wedding board, a happy family.
It’s cold.
It’s not working .
He’s cold.
The only warmth he’s conjured are the burning hot tears he’s desperately trying to blink away. Here, in his dreary, frigid, sparsely decorated room, he cannot trick himself into being happy. He can’t place a hand against his cheek, look out of the window, and pretend to be normal . Here, in this stark reminder of who he is, of where he came from, he can’t play a fool.
Why would anyone love a monster?
It’s cold.
Yuuta shoves his head into his pillow and sobs.