Chapter Text
There is something so fascinating about the fragility of glass.
Many things that we use in our daily lives are made of this material. We drink from it, we look at the outside from it, sometimes we place our food on it, or mundane objects we don’t want to put back in their drawers just yet for one reason or the other. It’s an integral part of our lives, and for a brief instant, as we make use of it for what it was built to do, we can forget how delicate such a material really is. Just a misstep, just a single violent gesture, and the tray shatters, the table cracks, the window breaks.
When we hold onto it, we might be able to feel its delicacy. It’s a thought that tells us, that what we’re holding in our hands is precious, and if we make a single wrong move, it can disappear before we even have the chance to realise it. It’s like having the weight of fate on your shoulders; holding onto a rock, holding onto a glass or similar object, the universe poses us with a choice. It asks us, will you protect this? Will you cherish the object in your hand, or discard it so cruelly that it shatters into thousands of pieces beyond repair?
It’s not the first case a human might have to make that choice. Whether for glass, whether for something else, one day we might realise that the state of something will be decided by our own hands, and only we have the power to stir fate in one direction. Sometimes it will be difficult, but sometimes the solution will be obvious. Too obvious.
So obvious, in fact, that we might forget how we as well are just like glass.
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A bang. A bag that shattered the air, the glass, that shook the walls around him.
The sound rang in his ears, as the figure collapsed to the ground. The boy followed his movement, hypnotised by the way the other fell like a porcelain doll, no resistance, not even a yell or a squeal. It made an awful, awful sound, not even when he fell down that one time from the bed did he think he had made so much noise.
Awful, awful.
He knew he should run, and it was foolish to continue staying in that area for much longer. It was only two shots, but it could have been more. He couldn’t risk it.
He should run.
He should run.
His heart was beating fast, fast, fast, he couldn’t feel his fingers anymore. On and on and on and on it went, filling his ears, stiffening all his body at once.
He should run. He should run, run, run, run, run, run.
Instead, his first instinct, once he managed to hold onto a sliver of self-control, was to run towards the fallen figure, grabbing its head, shaking it slightly.
“Hinata?”
His voice was quiet, quiet against the pulsing in his ears. His legs were touching something, something that didn’t feel like the floor, something that felt a little, not quite, like water. But he ignored it, focusing on the other boy’s still body, trying to turn his head around.
“Hinata? Hinata, can you hear me?”
It was heavy. It was so heavy. Why was it heavy? Since when had he gone so heavy? But he couldn’t force the movement too much. If he did something wrong, if he turned something that shouldn’t be turned, he could risk breaking him. Cracking him. The worse, worse outcome. But he couldn’t move him either if he was still.
“Hinata? Come on, Hinata, wake up; you shouldn’t be sleeping right now! You know you shouldn’t be sleeping! Don’t think you can escape consequences by pretending to be asleep, you stupid, stupid…you stupid!”
He thought his voice might have risen. He could hear it better now. Except that he could also feel the knot at the back of his throat, and his eyes swelling up, a painful feeling, rising and rising, threatening him with implosion. He shook the other’s hair more, his mouth opened up but he needed to swallow and to gasp several times before he could make a sound.
“I said wake up, you stupid brother! We have to run away, don’t you remember? You promised that we will run away together with Mum, and that we’ll be together forever! You promised! Haven’t you lied enough to our friends, to Mum, to Dad? Do you have to lie to me as well? Do you have to lie again to me, despite all you’ve promised? Get up, Hinata! Get up, please! Please, please, please…”
The frustration built up inside of him, causing his hands to clench the other’s hair so hard he pulled too harshly. The force caused the neck to turn, and suddenly, he was facing him.
Something fell. A clatter, a tiny one, as something hit his knee.
And one of his hands, he suddenly realised, there was something sticking to it.
Against his better judgement, he looked at it, removing it from where it was tangled. His hand was shaking, shaking so badly, and yet he couldn’t feel it. He couldn’t feel a thing. He couldn’t see it.
Only red.
Red.
Red.
Red in his vision.
He tried to force a tiny movement, a wriggle, just so he could recognise those fingers as his. Just so he could recognise it was a hand, his hand. He saw it move, but he couldn’t tell if it was because of his own will.
It hurt. Everything hurt.
Why did it hurt.
Why was it hurting.
Why was it red.
Why why why why why why why…
He heard a scream, something even more ear-piercing that that awful gunshot, even more dreadful than a body collapsing on the floor. He noticed a figure rushing past him, and a cry, a shriek, words that garbled in his head with no way to distinguish their meaning. He knew there was something, he could feel it, and he was certain he wasn’t hallucinating those sounds. Not the yells, not the clatter, not the following sounds, not everything. On and on it went, but he couldn’t understand it.
He couldn’t understand it.
Did Hinata understand it…
Did Hinata…
His eyes fell to the bottom. To the head, that had suddenly been turned. His heart leaped into his throat, as he blinked back the tears that were forming, his hand returning to reach for the other’s face…
Red.
He froze, hand still mid-air. Shaking, shaking, shaking as always. His lungs were about to burst, but he couldn’t open his mouth. He couldn’t say anything, he didn’t know how to. His heart became more and more audible again, drowning out all the surrounding sounds, like an incessant ringing that he didn’t have the strength to shake out. He would cover his ears, but that would make it worse.
He would cover his ears, but his hand…
His eyes panned over the red. Examining every inch and every detail, as if hypnotised by the shade. They went up and down, up and down, slowly, but rhythmically, almost to the sound of his heartbeat. Up and down, up and down.
Red. Red.
Red. Red.
Red. Red.
Red. Red.
Red. Orange. Red.
Red. Orange. Red.
Hand. Face.
Hand. Face.
Hand. Face.
Hinata.
Hinata.
Hinata.
Hinata. Hinata. Hinata. Hinata. Hinata. Hinata. Hinata. Hinata. Hinata. . Hinata. Hinata. Hinata. Hinata. Hinata. Hinata. Hinata. Hinata. Hinata. Hinata. Hinata. Hinata.
“Hi…nata…”
It came out quietly. Broken. He swallowed a mouthful of salt in the attempt, though his throat still felt dry. He could barely hear himself, over the sound of his heart, over the void that was taking over his mind. The world was going blurry, blurry, blurry, and also dark, dark, dark, dark. Spiders, bugs, bugs of all kinds, and shadows, shadows, shadows, crawling all over the floor and the walls, and the ceiling, he couldn’t hear anything but their voices, their chanting, their chanting, always the same things, over and over…
“Hi…na…ta…”
On and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on they go. And then something else was heard. A new voice.
New voices.
New phrases.
A new phrase.
It went on and on and on and on and on.
He hated it. He hated it. He hated it.
“LEAVE US ALONE!”
His head was bent over the other’s now, as if shielding him from the horrors only he could see, only he could feel. They prodded and prodded at him, but his body remained firmly attached to the other, covering him as much as he could, as tears flowed from his eyes, as he gazed in the darkness at a red blur, at a peaceful expression.
They were getting louder. Louder and louder and louder. But he didn’t let them win. He couldn’t let them win. He was strong, he was a strong kid. Hinata always said so. Hinata always told him that he could do it.
But Hinata had also told him they would be together forever.
He screamed again, though this time it was more chocked. He screamed a few more times, and in each one he grasped at the other a little tighter, almost digging into lifeless skin with numb fingers. It took a long, long, long time to separate them, and even his mother, who had emerged from the darkness to take him and hold him in her arms, as she cried and cried and cried, couldn’t stop him from screaming and kicking over and over at the shadows that crowded over Hinata, like pests, like monsters, like they always did in his dreams.
Except it was different. Because this was not a dream. Because people could see the nightmare he had witnessed, they could see the horror as plain as ever. And he could feel it on his skin, and his mother winced at it like she had been shocked.
And he could feel it in the way that he would call him over and over and over, out loud, in his head, Hinata, Hinata, Hinata, please, please, I’m scared, I’m scared, get me out, get me out, get me out, get me out, get me out, help, help, help, help, help, help.
He would call him, but he wouldn’t answer.
Because his beloved brother was lying on the floor in front of him, and Yuuta reeked of his blood.