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He’s awoken by a nightmare.
Or at least, it was a nightmare when he was dreaming it, but as En’s eyelids flutter open and the dark room comes into focus, the sensations of the dream fade away and what little remains is decidedly less scary and more weird. His tired mind rationalizes that it probably isn’t that strange that his dreams are such a mess. It was a weird day after all.
There is a warm breathing in his ear, and En belatedly remembers that he’s at an inn with his friends. They’re in a small room, futons barely an inch apart, and the only light source is the moonlight in the window. The one is breathing is Atsushi beside him. He is curled on his side with a peaceful expression and hair falling over his eyes. En fights the urge to reach over brush away the loose strands; he knows Atsushi is a light sleeper and doesn’t want to wake him.
Across from him, Io and Ryuu are dead to the world, Io lying peacefully on his back and Ryuu splayed out on his stomach. En can also see Tawarayama-sensei as still as ever, Wombat snoring on top of him.
He wants to go back to sleep as well, but despite the fogginess in his head and his drooping eyelids, sleep doesn’t come to him. His dream left behind a lingering feeling of unease, and finally, unable to lie around sleeplessly, En sits up.
When he does, the last futon, the one on the other side of Atsushi comes into his view, and as soon as he sees it, sleep escapes him completely and his unease intensifies.
Yumoto is gone.
En’s first instinct is to wake everyone up immediately, but his reason stops him. Maybe he just went to use the bathroom, it tells him, and he believes it. Yumoto had passed out on his futon the moment they’d returned to the hotel after the test of courage. He didn’t even crawl under the blanket or take off the flashlight on his head. It fell to Atsushi and En to get him settled in comfortably.
En props himself up on his side and watches the door. He listens for Yumoto’s footsteps but for the longest time, his friends’ snores are the only sounds to be heard. He contemplates waking Atsushi at the very least, but in the end, decides to do a quick sweep himself before sounding the alarm.
The halls of the inn are dark and empty at night, and every creak he makes on the floor sends a chill down his spine. En checks the bathrooms first, but there’s no sign of Yumoto and he’s sure they didn’t accidentally miss each other. He reaches the lobby, and considers the possibility of Yumoto having gone outside, and the thought fills him with panic. He doesn’t want to picture Yumoto wandering around on the unfamiliar streets at this late hour, and instead asks himself where he hasn’t checked yet.
The answer is the hot spring.
It’s closed at night, but En can still enter the changing room, which resembles Kurotama’s just as much as the baths do. He can’t hide his sigh of relief at finding Yumoto in the corner, knees drawn to his chest, but the relief quickly fades into worry. Yumoto doesn’t turn to him; his face is hidden in his knees, and he is clutching something tightly in his hand. En isn’t sure, but he thinks he hears sniffling.
“Hey,” he calls out softly. Yumoto doesn’t answer, but he at least looks up now, and En sees that while he isn’t crying, he looks like he might start at the slightest push. He doesn’t move away when En slides down next to him. “What’s wrong? Bad dream?”
Yumoto just shakes his head and hugs himself tighter. En pats the side on his arm comfortingly, and guesses again. “Stomachache?” Pain is another thing that he thinks would make someone withdraw like this. And at least that would be something he could solve by rummaging through Atsushi’s bag.
But Yumoto shakes his head again, and En is already out of ideas. “Well, that’s good,” he says and desperately tries to think of something else because he doubts Yumoto will speak up otherwise. He doesn’t like seeing Yumoto so quiet. A quiet Yumoto is like a charitable Io—it’s worrisome on many levels.
“Did someone say something to you?” En asks next, “At the beach or something? Was it one of us?” This time Yumoto’s headshaking is more frantic, so En is at least assured that this isn’t their fault (though at the same time, he searches his memories for any hints of Yumoto being upset that they might have overlooked). “Well then, come on, talk to me. Didn’t we have fun today?” Sure things got a little weird with the toothbrush and all, but En didn’t think it was a bad day overall. And Yumoto was all smiles earlier.
And speaking of smiles, the tiniest one creeps onto his face. “Yeah,” he whispers, “It was a fun day.”
“Atta boy,” En pats the top of his head, “So then, what’s gotten you so down like this? You can tell En-chan-senpai.” Despite saying that, part of him wonders if he should still get Atsushi. Atsushi’s a smother, but he’s better at comforting people. En worries that he might only make things worse.
But progress is already made. Yumoto unwraps his arms from his knees and clutches the object in his hand to his chest. En finally notices that it’s his cell phone. His first thoughts are of alarm. Did Yumoto get a phone call at this late hour? Did something happen to Gora?
“I forgot to call An-chan,” Yumoto whispers, instantly dispelling En’s worst fears, “When we came back from the test of courage, I fell asleep and forgot to call him.”
Part of En thinks it’s a little childish to get so upset about this, but then he reminds himself that he also texted his parents good night. It was more for their peace of mind than anything, so En can sympathize. Yumoto is a good kid; he doesn’t like making others worry, least of all his big bro.
“Alright, alright don’t fret,” he says, still running his fingers through Yumoto’s soft blond hair, “I’m sure your brother knows you’re in good hands. You can call him in the morning and—
But already, Yumoto is curling up again. “I didn’t tell him “good night”,” his voice is shaking, “I can’t sleep without saying “good night” to An-chan.”
En thinks he gets it now.
“You miss your brother, don’t you?” he asks in the gentlest tone he can make. He supposes it explains why Yumoto chose to hide in Tamakuro’s changing room; it reminded him of home. Yumoto sniffs and rubs his eyes, wiping newly formed tears away with his yukata’s sleeve. Without hesitation, En pulls him to his side, arm wrapped around him in a hug.
En doesn’t know how to deal with homesickness. Should he tell Yumoto not to cry, or to let it out? If it were Io or Ryuu, he’d probably tell them to man up, but then, Io and Ryuu wouldn’t have wanted to be consoled. He can tell that Yumoto’s embarrassed enough by his display of weakness though, so En at least knows that this scene is to be kept between the two of them. The others didn't need to know.
“Do you want to try calling him now?” he suggests, “I know it’s late, but if you really want to hear his voice, he’ll understand.”
“He left a message,” Yumoto whispers, and passes En his phone. The screen is already set to the voicemail screen and the display shows there’s a minute long message from Gora.
“Is it alright for me to listen to it?” En asks. Despite Yumoto nodding, En feels awkward holding the phone up to his ear. He doesn’t think it’s something for an outsider to listen in on, but he does as Yumoto wants.
Gora isn’t a particularly talkative man, and he isn’t very good with words, so a large part of the voicemail is him struggling to find the words he wants to say. But the gist of the message is clear. Gora easily guessed that Yumoto tired himself out while having fun, and told him not to worry about his dear old brother and keep focusing on enjoying his vacation. At the end of the message was a “good night”. So in that respect, Gora kept up his end of their ritual.
En wonders how many times Yumoto’s listened to this message already. He takes back his phone the moment it finishes and holds it tightly to his chest again.
“Well that’s good, isn’t it?” En tries, “Your brother knows you meant to call.” Yumoto’s tears start rolling down his cheeks freely, making En tense. This is why he wanted Atsushi here.
“Alright, alright, don’t cry,” he pleads, “I mean it, Yumoto. If you really need to hear his voice, you can call him. And if he doesn’t pick up, just leave a voicemail.”
“It’s not the same,” Yumoto whimpers, so En drops the idea. He lets Yumoto cry into his yukata a bit longer while thinking of something else. Perhaps it is better that he doesn’t call Gora in this state. He might upset himself further, and his brother will likely become unable to think about anything else until their reunion.
“Yumoto,” En says softly, “You know you’ll see your brother soon—today even!” It was past midnight at this point, after all. “We’ll be on the bus by noon and then you’ll be at Kurotama by dinnertime. But the longer you cry in here, the slower time will pass by. Let’s go back to the room, and try to sleep, okay?”
“But—
“I know I don’t compare to your big bro, but just for tonight, how about I dote on you for a bit?” he offers, “I’ll tuck you in and lay beside you until you fall asleep. Would that be alright?”
Yumoto is still for a long time, but finally he nods and lets En help him stand up and straighten out his yukata. Crying took a lot out of him, and he staggers behind En for a bit, before the third year stops and squats down in front of him.
“Climb on,” he says. Yumoto does so without much protest, at least until the moment En grunts while standing up.
“Am I heavy?”
“Not a bit,” En lies through his teeth. It’s worth it though. Yumoto lays his head on En’s shoulder, and by the time En reaches their room, his breathing is soft and steady, his eyes are closed and the tear streaks on his face have dried up.
As promised, En lays Yumoto down on his futon, careful as to not wake anyone, and draws his discarded blanket over him, making sure it’s straightened out and secure from every angle. En then lies down by the wall beside him, patting his hand.
“Comfortable?”
Yumoto hums softly in approval. En keeps his word and stays by his side until he’s sure Yumoto is fast asleep. He’s considered just sleeping by the wall himself, but he doesn’t want to have to explain to the others in the morning. Slowly, he gets up.
“Goodnight Yumoto,” he whispers into Yumoto’s ear.
He almost misses it, but Yumoto mumbles a reply.
“’Night…En…chan...”
En smiles and gives him one last reassuring squeeze on the shoulder before stepping over Atsushi and returning to his own futon. As he lies down and pulls his blanket over himself, he can’t help but muse over how Yumoto’s tired slurring made it sound like he said “En-nii-chan.”
En-nii-chan, he repeats to himself, as he closes his eyes. As he drifts off into a pleasant sleep, he decides that once in a while, it feels nice to be called that.