Chapter Text
1961
Amane is pouting because Tsukasa isn't here.
It's their birthday, and the sun is beating down on the grass and melting the flowers, wilting the cake, and he wants to blow out the candles before they can burn down. He wants all of it, he wants everything to himself, he wants Tsukasa to be here and watch everything decay with him.
But his mom said no, they have to wait, so he crosses his arms and sits on the rickety wooden bench, a few scant inches from sweetness and his new number and the fire and he wants, like he never has before.
His father smiles indulgently at him, and it's okay, he supposes, but it's no replacement for what he could have. He could take everything, right in front of him, but for some reason he can't, and he doesn't know why. Because of Tsukasa.
Tsukasa said he would only be a few minutes, hurry up already. His mom tries to placate him, maybe your brother got you a birthday present, Amane! Maybe. Amane's not sure if he cares. Because Tsukasa isn't here, and Amane wants him to be here, and that's the only thing that's important.
He feels something he hasn't named yet as he looks off to the side, focused intently on a slug sliding slowly down the peeling wooden fence, cautiously treading onto the grass. It leaves a trail of slime in its wake as it moves, and Amane kind of wants to swipe his finger through it, ruin it.
A shout from inside the house. Tsukasa runs out, waving his arms excitedly and yelling, "Happy birthday, Amane!" He beams at their parents, and the bench creaks under his weight as he plops down across from Amane.
It's almost perfect. The slug is 5 centimeters away from Amane's bare feet, creeping closer. He's not sure what he's supposed to do.
His parents sing happy birthday in melodic voices, carried through the unusually warm November air. Everything is where it should be.
A hum from across the table. Amane is still watching the slug. It's too close, he thinks. He looks up to meet Tsukasa's eyes. They're gold. Dotting the iris are flecks of black like the shadows in the corners of the house that seem to move whenever the night wraps them in a burlap sack and stuffs them into sleep.
His heart falls to the dry soil, burying itself like teeth in the pale dirt.
He already knew. He already knew. But he thought maybe, once Tsukasa saw the flickering light and the sugar and the smiles, his brother would come back to him.
His brother is gone. He's been gone a long, long time.
As the candle wick melts in the afternoon light, the plastic 5 on the cake falls to the withering grass and is moistened by the trail of the slug.
Their parents step away for a second, fussing over the presents. Tsukasa picks up the small creature with a grin, just a bit too sharp.
Squish.