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“Keicho!!” The boy in question looked up, eyes scanning for a moment before landing on the tanned child running at him. “Keiiichooooooo!!”
“Hey– hey, hey, hey, Okuyasu, slow down–” The boy paid him no mind, and Keicho grunted as his brother impacted his chest. Okuyasu giggled at the noise, hugging his brother tightly. “...hey there, Oku.”
“Hiiii Keicho!!” The six year old sang back. Keicho hugged him back, smiling a bit despite his annoyance. The laughter was infectious, anyways, and Keicho was already in a good mood after getting back a spelling test in his homeroom class. He let go of his brother and yanked his backpack off the ground, putting it on so that all the pockets were facing forwards before bending down to let Okuyasu hop on his back. After some wiggling, the younger boy patted the blonde’s shoulder to signal he was ready. Keicho stood shakily under the extra weight and began the walk across the field on his way home. Okuyasu chatted in his ear, updating him on what had happened in each class and at recess, asking any questions that might’ve flitted into his head, and begging for help on math homework that was due at the end of the week. Keicho hummed, interjecting the occasional response to keep the boy placated. He was used to the never-ending stream of words by now, anyways––Okuyasu was chatty by nature, and it wasn’t like Keicho minded most of the time. Taking care of his brother meant skipping on playdates with his friends, so it was nice to have someone to talk to.
“Kei-choooooo,” Okuyasu was groaning. “Keicho, are you even listening?”
“Of course I am.” He responded, bumping his brother up on his back a bit. The pair passed a group of kids from Keicho’s class, and Okuyasu waved at them happily. “Hey, don’t embarrass me!!”
“I’m not embarrassing you, I’m saying hi to your friends!! Hiiii, Keicho’s friends!!” The group jolted to look at the young boy screaming at them, and Keicho felt his cheeks burn bright.
“I’m so sorry!” The blonde joined in, shaking his head. “Oku, you can’t just yell at people.”
“I’m not yellin’! I’m just saying hi!” The boy insisted. Keicho heaved a heavy sigh, finally stepping onto the sidewalk. “Hey, Keicho?”
“Mhm?” He hummed back. His elbow was awkwardly pointed upwards to hit the button on the crosswalk, and the two waited patiently along with the parents of the other kids to cross the street.
“What’s for dinner? ‘M hungry!”
“Did you eat your lunch today?” The little man on the light turned green and both boys looked left and right before Keicho stepped out onto the street.
“I did!”
“All of it?”
“All of it. But I’m still hungry! Do you think mom made anything?” Okuyasu’s voice was hopeful, and Keicho winced at how innocent the question sounded. That was something that always confused yet intrigued him––Okuyasu still held the belief that their mother would come back, even after two years of her being gone. Keicho knew full well that she was dead, and yet… Okuyasu still had hope. Maybe it was because of all the stories he’d heard from his older brother about the woman, or maybe Okuyasu was still too young and dumb to grasp the fact that death was permanent. In any case, he brushed it off.
“No, I think she’s still working.” He was sure Okuyasu was pouting now.
“That sucks. Dad never makes us food.”
“He sometimes does…” Keicho trailed off. Okuyasu shook his head hard enough that Keicho could feel it.
“No he doesn’t! He burns everything, or just makes stuff for himself and never gives it to us.” The boy’s stomach growled, and Keicho quickened his pace. “...hey, Keicho?”
“Yeah?”
“Uhm… can you make me those eggs again today? The ones with the little green things and with juice in my favourite cup?” The blonde nodded, muttering a few words as he slipped past some of the adults walking in front of the pair.
“Sure, Oku.”
“Yay!! Thank you, Keicho!!” The boy hugged him, and Keicho giggled despite the fact it almost made him trip. Okuyasu settled further into his brother’s grip, humming happily and tapping Keicho’s shoulders like a pair of drums. Keicho paid it no mind, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other and keeping his eyes up and moving. He was sleepy after another long night, and he needed to pay attention to where he was going anyways. He was still short and tiny––he was only in fourth grade, after all, which meant that the grown-ups around him never really paid too much attention to him other than when they needed to, and it was very easy to get stepped on or have someone trip over him. It had happened before, he had the scraped knees and ruined uniform pants to prove it (and memories of how angry his dad had been when he’d gotten home). So, he kept scanning the area as Okuyasu entertained himself, hoping that the eldest Nijimura wouldn’t be in a mood by the time his sons stepped through the door.
Keicho had given up a lot after his mom died, he thought as he made Okuyasu those scrambled eggs. He’d become his brother’s protector when dad got too drunk, and his tutor, and the one to tuck him in bed and wake him up in the mornings. It was a lot of responsibility for a kid, but when he was younger, Keicho thought it was almost fun. He felt like someone important, like a big strong grown-up. And Okuyasu listened to him!! Well, most of the time, but it was still better than how much he listened to dad, which was good enough for Keicho.
But… but Keicho was in fourth grade. Almost fifth!! Nearly fifth grade, his birthday was real soon!! But that didn’t change the fact that he was a kid, taking care of a kid. A kid, taking care of a kid, while also trying to take care of himself since his dad wasn’t any help at all. At least he gave Keicho money to buy groceries and lunch for himself and Okuyasu, and he didn’t bother them much as long as the two of them were quiet. It was still rough, though, sometimes, since dad loved to drink his alcohol by the bottle and got really mad whenever he did that, so Keicho always had to make sure that Okuyasu wouldn’t be in his way or else he might get more scars.
The blonde glanced up, looking at the thin scars on his brother’s face. How dad had managed to make them look like that was something he didn’t understand, but he wouldn’t dare ask dad or Oku. He didn’t want Oku to cry or dad to get mad and hit him. So, all he did was make sure that Okuyasu ate his fill, and then finished whatever leftovers his brother had left after sending him off to wash up. He washed the plates, too, checking the clock every now and then to see if he had enough time to finish the task before dad got home. When the plates and pans were dried and put away just as they had been before, Keicho grabbed the two backpacks that had been set by the door and walked up the stairs to his bedroom. Okuyasu was waiting patiently, already in his pyjamas with fuzzy slippers on his feet as he played with the pencils on the table. Keicho closed the door softly behind himself and set the bags back down.
“Alright, Oku, you said you needed help with… spelling test?”
“No, math homework!! I got my spelling test back today, ’member?”
“Oh yeah, yeah. How’d you do on that, anyways?”
“Wellllll…” And off he went, rambling away again. Keicho listened attentively, looking over what work his brother had done on the math worksheet already. Okuyasu wasn’t as smart as Keicho, but his math skills weren’t shabby and it made Keicho’s job a lot easier. Second grade math was easy anyways, a lot easier than what Keicho was learning––not that Keicho was dumb!! No, he was really smart, all his teachers said so. He was bright and mature. Full of potential, that’s what the teachers all said, and he was setting a “very positive example for his classmates and brother.” They were a bit worried with how little he tended to talk with kids around his own age, but mostly brushed it off as Keicho preferring to read rather than socialize. It wasn’t too far off from the truth, since Keicho had to make sure to stay ahead of the lessons if he had any hope to help Okuyasu while also keeping himself afloat, so Keicho always smiled and agreed.
Okuyasu yawned, eyes half-shut.
“Keicho…”
“Mhm?”
“Is it bedtime? Can we take a little…” Another yawn. “A little break from my homework, please?” Keicho nodded solemnly, pushing some of the papers aside.
“Bedtime it is. Did you brush your teeth already?”
“No…”
“You should go do that, Oku. You need to, otherwise all your teeth are gonna hurt and get all wiggly and you’ll look like an old man.” Okuyasu shot his brother a glare, mumbling something under his breath. Keicho gave him a look, and after a few more seconds of pouting, Okuyasu got up and shuffled off to the bathroom. Keicho sighed, shaking his head. His eyes glided over to check the clock on his bedside table. Just past eight, and yet it felt all the later. Keicho tisked, packing his brother’s papers back into the small blue school bag. Maybe he should go to bed too, since he’d been staying up later and later to make sure dad wouldn’t do anything dumb when he’d come home and to finish his homework. That was what he should do now, actually, once Oku came back into the room and got settled. Sure, he had his own room, but… Keicho worried a bit. A lot, actually, because Okuyasu was stupid with feelings. He felt something and so he acted accordingly, without any hesitation or second thoughts, and he didn’t think through other people’s emotions too well. He took things at face value, but he was a kid, so what did Keicho expect?
...well. Keicho was a kid too. But Keicho was a different sort of kid, one that worried for his little brother and what might happen if the six year old got on one of his dad’s many bad sides. He had to protect Okuyasu however he could, and so he willingly gave up his bed space to the kid to make sure nothing bad might happen.
“Brushed themmmm… can I go sleep now?” Okuyasu shuffled back into the room, knocking Keicho out of his train of thought. The blonde nodded, standing up. He tucked in his brother carefully and lovingly, giving him a quick hug and a kiss on the very top of his head. Okuyasu gave him a sleepy smile. “Love you, Keicho.”
“Love you too, Okuyasu.”
“Love you more.” The boy giggled. Keicho poked his nose.
“Yeah, right. Go to bed, Oku, and I’ll be right there.”
“‘Kayyy…” The boy drawled, settling himself further into the blankets. Keicho waited until he closed his eyes to grab his own book bag and move to sit by the window. Okuyasu insisted on sleeping with a night-light, which Keicho didn’t mind at all, but it wasn’t enough light to work on his homework. Instead, the blonde sat in the well created by the window and leaned against the frame, relying on the moonlight and streetlamps to read the problems on the sheets. The minutes ticked by in a constant stream, the noises of the clock hands moving eventually being tuned out by the boy by the window.
Sheet after sheet. Class after class.
The door slammed downstairs and Keicho flinced. He’d been so focused on his work that he’d failed to notice his dad’s car pulling up to the street. The blonde held his breath. The footsteps stumbled around downstairs, not angry necessarily but still terrifyingly loud. Keicho tracked the man’s movements in his mind. Back porch, kitchen, into the bathroom downstairs. Doors were being slammed. Internally, Keicho began to pray. Don’t come upstairs. Don’t come upstairs. Please, don’t go up the stairs…
The footsteps passed by the staircase, and the tell-tale sound of the couch springs creaking was followed by a low muttering from the eldest Nijimura. The television was turned on, and soon enough, he was asleep. Keicho exhaled slowly. Safe. He forced his shoulders down and continued on with his English homework, shaky hand slowly writing neat words. The hands of the clock ticked their steady rhythm. By the time they hit 11:30, Keicho was all done and sighed, slipping his homework back into his bag and crawling into bed. Okuyasu was splayed like a starfish on the mattress, open-mouthed snoring, and Keicho gave a heavy sigh as he nudged some of the limbs aside. He’d gotten used to sleeping on the edge of his mattress by now, and after delicately balancing himself on top of the blanket and pillow, he closed his eyes and did his best to sleep.
This was the normal routine for Keicho since his mom died. His father had nearly lost his mind with grief and was no help to either of his sons, and so Keicho took it upon himself to take care of Okuyasu. It was fine, he liked acting like a grown up. He was fine with it. He didn’t need friends, his classmates liked him just fine, and he didn’t want to do any of the after-school sports either, even if the soccer team seemed like lots of fun. He was happy Okuyasu was making friends, and that dad was still giving them money, and that dad wasn’t hitting them very much anymore. He just yelled, a lot––mostly at Keicho, because Keicho always cleaned up after Okuyasu and made sure he wouldn’t get hurt. Okuyasu was a kid, and a soft one at that, and Keicho didn’t want him to cry and make dad angrier. Keicho didn’t care that all his classmates talked about him being lame, stuck-up, and acting like he was too good for them, or that his teachers had gotten such high expectations of him now at age twelve, after four years of him quietly breaking himself to make sure nothing slipped. He’d kept up this front for that long, he could keep going. Couldn’t he?
But Okuyasu was growing too, and maybe Keicho had shielded him just a bit too much, and maybe… just maybe, the blonde was bitter.
But dad was angry again because Okuyasu was starting to get a bit of an attitude the more he grew, and because Keicho hadn’t done too good on a test in history class after day three of barely any sleep, and maybe dad didn’t hit as often anymore but he still did sometimes so now Keicho’s cheek hurt, and Okuyasu had been whining about wanting something or the other and about homework, and–
–and Keicho was back in the same place he always went when he slipped out the window at night. In a small clearing in the middle of the woods near his house, with a backpack on his shoulders and a little bit of nonperishable food, on his knees and crying.
He wanted out. Keicho was– god, he was so tired of life being like this, tired of his dad being mean and Okuyasu being dumb and everything, he was so tired of everything. Why did mom have to die? Why did he have to fill her shoes and dad’s shoes at the same time, when he was a kid? Why couldn’t he just leave Okuyasu alone and finally run away? He was smart enough to make it on his own. He knew where the abandoned houses were, and how to lie, and how to make his own food and do his own laundry and everything. But Okuyasu kept stopping him. The very thought of leaving his brother alone, in that big house, with that bitter old man who had more alcohol than blood in his system at any given moment was one that made him want to retch. Okuyasu, he– this was–
“–this is all your fault,” Keicho mumbled to himself. He took a wet, shaking breath in. “This is all– this is all your FUCKING FAULT!” He slammed his fist against the dirt, choking on his sobs. “IT’S YOUR FAULT!! I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU!! I HATE YOU, HATE YOU, HATEYOUHATEYOUHATEYOU– I CAN’T BE A KID BECAUSE OF YOU!! I CAN’T DO ANYTHING BECAUSE OF YOU!! I HATE YOU, OKUYASU!! I’LL HATE YOU ‘TIL––’TIL FOREVER!” He coughed, devolving back into tears again. Forehead against the dirt, Keicho screamed and cried until he felt his voice would disappear, the weight of his backpack feeling both like a comfort and like a temptation.
Keicho considered himself tough. He had to be tough, and brave, to live through all that he did and still come out on top. But Keicho was never quite brave enough to leave.
He cried until the tears would no longer fall and then stood up, walking back to his house with his head hung low. Coward. Coward. Pathetic coward.
Like all the nights, Keicho climbed back into the house via the drainpipe, stowed his runaway bag in the back of the closet, and hid his dirtied clothes. Okuyasu still slept in his bed, even now, and Keicho wasn’t sure whether he experienced revulsion or jealousy at the sight of the boy sleeping peacefully in the room.
...still.
He laid down next to him, glaring up at the ceiling with bitterness in his chest. He’d get out of here, one way or another, and maybe someday he’d teach Okuyasu enough to bring him along too.