Chapter Text
{Because of you, I never stray too far from the sidewalk. Because of you I learned to play on the safe side so I don’t get hurt. Because of you, I try my hardest just to forget everything. Because of you, I am afraid}
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If you asked Osamu about it, he’d swear till he was blue in the face that he didn’t remember a single second of it.
But Atsumu knew his brother better than anyone and he knew that that was complete and utter crap. You don’t just forget the most traumatic experience of your life just because you wish it away.
It had happened the week the boys turned seven. It was the only birthday Atsumu and Osamu had ever spent apart.
The boys had been playing in the park one day after school, bouncing between the jungle gym and running through the field and surrounding forest. Mama Miya had always told them to stay out of the forest, but it was too tempting. Their make-believe game of knights and robbers was more fun in the copse behind the park.
Atsumu had been playing the role of the knight that day, giving merry chase to his brother after giving him a few seconds head start.
The sounds of snapping branches and breathy giggles had laid an easy trail for Atsumu to follow. With his own giggles echoing in his ears, Atsumu wasn’t sure when he’d stopped hearing his brother’s and became consumed by the sound of his own footsteps.
Eventually, the elder twin had worn himself out with running never having caught up to Osamu.
“Samu, I’m tired,” he’d whined. “I’m tired of playin’. Can we go home now?”
But Osamu hadn’t replied. In fact, there wasn’t a response made for a very, very long time.
Eventually, the silence became too much for Atsumu.
He jogged back the way he’d come, calling out for his brother and pausing to wait for a response. Atsumu didn’t know how long he’d ran through that forest before he realized that his brother wasn’t with him. All he knew was that when he left the trees that night in a mad dash to get his mother, Osamu had seemed to vanish into thin air.
Atsumu still remembers the look of thinly veiled horror on his mother’s face when he’d turned up on their doorstep way past curfew with tears streaming down his face and multiple scratches covering his arms and legs. He remembers the blood draining from his face as he’d begged her to help him find Osamu, sobbed to her that his brother was missing.
October 2002 had been the worst month for the Miya family.
The police had instantly began a search, scouring the forest where Osamu had last been seen. There had been search parties (volunteers and staff alike) and bloodhounds, police had gone door to door and hunted through alleyways and side streets. For 72 hours straight they had looked, but had turned up nothing.
Day after day, detectives came to the Miya house and questioned Mama Miya and Atsumu alike. Had anyone taken a sudden interest in Osamu? Had Atsumu noticed anyone following them home from school? Did they know anyone who would want to hurt Osamu or their family?
It had been hell.
But Atsumu would never forget the day when Osamu had been returned to them.
November 3rd, 2002.
It was a Sunday. Fresh snow had fallen that afternoon and Mama Miya was baking cookies while Atsumu colored at the table. Three sharp raps on the door startled the two Miya’s out of their state of calm at the sound. As she was just taking out a sheet of cookies, Mama Miya asked her son to get the door.
Atsumu had scurried over and opened the door in a flash.
His mouth and body reacted before his mind had even had a chance to register what he was seeing. “Samu!” He’d screamed, flinging himself at his brother and squeezing tight enough to restrict proper oxygen flow. But Osamu had reciprocated the intensity.
Both boys were on the floor hugging and crying by the time Mama Miya made it to the door.
She’d scooped them both into her arms, tears coursing down her own cheeks as she switched between thanking the officer and saying “My baby, my baby” over and over.
That had been ten years ago.
It was now October 2012.
Osamu had gone through intense therapy as a kid once he’d been returned to his family, but there was still lingering trauma.
He still got nightmares from time to time, had infrequent panic attacks, all but fled from physical contact, and had a very strange aversion to apples.
But he never talked about it. Not to his mother and never to his twin.
So when, on October 4th, two detectives showed up on their front porch asking to speak with Osamu, everyone was on edge, wondering what this could possibly be about.
Mama Miya had made tea for everyone and they all sat with their brews around the table. The male detective had cleared his throat three times before mustering the courage to speak. “I deeply regret having to say this, but we need to inform you that Kawasaki Sora has resurfaced.”
Unfamiliar with the name, but knowing it couldn’t be anyone other than Osamu’s kidnapper, Atsumu had turned to look at his brother. He caught the way the blood drained from his twin’s face, the sixteen year old’s eyes widening before growing extremely unfocused as his face went slack.
Not knowing if Osamu would accept it or not, Atsumu reached over and tried to lay a comforting hand on his shoulder. But Osamu reacted as if he’d been stung, recoiling so hard that he nearly knocked his chair off balance.
He gasped out something about needing air before he bolted from the kitchen.
Tears were trickling down Mama Miya’s face as the detective directed his words to her instead.
“Is there somewhere he could maybe stay, outside of Hyogo, while we’re conducting this investigation?”
Mama Miya just shook her head slowly. “We’re the only family he has,” she whispered.
Atsumu had had enough.
He tracked Osamu down to the back garden, where the ashen haired teen was knelt in front of a rose bush with one arm wrapped around his middle and his free hand clamped over his mouth, trying and failing to stifle his sobs.
Even though Osamu had reacted poorly to touch earlier, Atsumu knew his brother needed it right now. He dropped down beside Osamu and gently tugged him into a hug. Surprisingly, Osamu didn’t resist. He simply buried his head into Atsumu’s shoulder and held on for dear life.
Atsumu felt tears of his own welling up as he held his brother.
Their lives were going to be hell until this bastard was caught.
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