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Chapter Text

Sunny didn't think of much as his hands began loosening their death grip on each side of the toilet seat. Sunny didn't think of much as his stomach, emptied of all he'd managed to eat in the last day, began to settle. Sunny didn't think of much as the tear tracks trailing down his cheeks began to dry. Sunny didn't—

No. Sunny tried to think of nothing. Not of the state of himself at the moment, unsteady and weak. Not of the awful smell emanating from not far below his face, itself a reminder of how—

Keeping his eye shut but no longer clenched tightly, Sunny shakily unlatched his fingers from the seat and blindly reached his left hand upwards. Feeling around for a moment—and being forced to lift himself off of the cold, tiled floor and upwards onto slightly shaking knees—his hand found purchase of the handle, and he pulled down on it. It took more force than he's used to and produced an unfamiliar screeching noise, but the sound was quickly drowned out by flushing water.

Unfamiliar sounds like these were only just beginning to become unremarkable to Sunny's ears as he became accustomed to the new house, his supposedly clear and empty mind traitorously reminded him.

Unaware he'd opened his eye again to stare at the settling water in the toilet bowl, he shut the lid and tried breathing in the calming way Mari had once taught him... Sunny hoped it would help him clear his mind of the thoughts that had caused him to cover his mouth and run blindly through the dark, empty house, desperate to get away from—

Sunny's breath hitched and he choked on an inhale, at once forcing himself to his feet. He immediately swayed as the blood rushed to his head and his vision went dark at the edges. Reaching out in a blind panic, he managed to catch himself on the sink to the right of the toilet. His ears rang. Shaking uncontrollably, Sunny struggled to simply stay upright. Seconds, possibly minutes, passed before the ringing abated and allowed his ears to process sound normally.

And once they did, Sunny realized that the sound of harshly running water was gradually overtaking the ringing. Opening his eye once more to make sense of things, Sunny slowly grasped that, in his desperation to stay upright, his left hand had grabbed the sink's handle and pulled it forward, causing the water to come gushing out at full blast. Sensation in his right hand decided to come back at that moment to notify him of its position in the basin of the sink; his tensed fingers were caught in the water's path as it escaped down the drain. Water which was beginning to become uncomfortably hot.

Finally, the rest of Sunny's brain decided to turn on, and he quickly repositioned his legs to better support himself, pushing the handle back to turn the faucet off. He rested both of his hands on the bottom of the basin and let out a quiet, trembling breath.

He lifted his eye only momentarily upwards and was met with his reflection staring back. Before he could interpret the expression on his face or see the angry red of a future bruise on his forehead, Sunny looked back down and quickly focused on the drain instead. Dark rooms and mirrors were never a good combination with his mind. The sound of dripping water invaded his ears, and he clung to the distraction. He began counting each drop he heard and barely registered his fast breathing and heart rate slowing.

Still shaking, Sunny turned around, keeping his eye down until he was faced away from the mirror. He stood as still as he could manage for a few seconds, staring blankly at the crack in one of the ceramic floor tiles that he hadn't noticed before. In the dim lighting, with the only source of it being the moonlight peeking through the small window above the mirror, that crack seemed to shift. To expand and shrink and snake its way toward him just like—

Sunny tore his eye away and made his way to the door of the bathroom, stepping around the crack. As if stepping on it would cause something to happen.

... He still wasn't going to check if it would.

Once out of the room, he took a deep breath. Even with the source eliminated, the smell of sick still permeated the bathroom. Though he could only tell once he was out of the room and free of it.

Finding the thought relevant, his brain dredged up the memory of a recent conversation.

It was earlier that day that Sunny had managed to ask his mom for something. It was something small, but had still taken so much effort to bring himself to request.

They had been sitting together on the couch in their new house, his mom humming gently as she folded clothes and set them to her right. Sunny sat on her left.

Sunny's voice was quiet but clear, if a bit shaky, as he'd audibly stumbled through his request.

A few moments had passed that had Sunny breaking his staring contest with the carpet to glance up at her.

She was looking back at him steadily, gaze expectant, with the slightest tinge of confusion. She almost looked like she wanted him to explain further, but Sunny had said all he wanted to and all at once felt like maybe he should have said nothing at all. Before he could tear his gaze back to the floor where it should have stayed, he heard his mom speak.

"An air freshener?"

Her voice was light and without judgment, Sunny thought. He hoped. But just like her expression, it carried a bit of confusion, and, to Sunny's ears, seemingly an unspoken question for further explanation. Sunny’s gaze dropped to his lap, and he clasped his hands together. Running his thumbs over one another in a self-soothing motion, he spoke again quickly, voice wavering as his throat seemed to close up.

"F-For the bathroom." The words nearly failed to escape his mouth, but he got it out, even if the last word was clipped. Maybe it was the tone in his voice or even the tear that he didn't realize had slipped down his cheek, but warm hands suddenly enveloped his own as his mom kneeled down in front of him.

"No, no, no, honey, please don't cry!" His mom angled herself to try and get him to look at her, but Sunny refused to move his gaze out from under his hair. He stared down at where her hands now gently covered his. She continued, her voice rushed and wavering now as well, "I was just confused since I'd thought we already had some! It must have been lost or thrown out during the move here. I promise Mommy isn't mad at you, honey. You know you can always ask me for anything you'd like, okay?"

He knew she wanted an affirmative answer to that question—maybe even a nod would have worked—but as Sunny sniffled, he decided he didn't feel like he could. He knew he didn't deserve to. He'd taken so much from her already, how could he dare to ask for more? He should just—

A sob suddenly escaped his throat, and he slipped his hands out of his mom's grip and brought them to his face to roughly wipe at his tears. His injured and still bandaged eye socket throbbed and stung as he indiscriminately rubbed his hands across his face, half clearing away tears and half further hiding his face away as guilt clawed at his chest. As he hunched in on himself, his mom tentatively wrapped her arms around him and pulled him slowly to herself, resting her chin on his head. She rubbed her hand rhythmically in circles across his back and he noticed, distantly, shaking that wasn't his own and a wetness on the top of his head.

Sunny was sure she continued speaking, but he felt it rather than heard it as his ears began to ring. Looking through the gaps between his fingers—which he'd stopped scrubbing his face with and simply held still and tense against his cheeks—he stared down at his mom's dress. Her legs were bent into an L shape at the knees as she leaned forward to better hold onto him. Sunny's hunched posture made the hug awkward, but all he could focus on was the growing wet spot on the front of her dress as his tears fell. He wanted to pull his knees to his face.

His face burned with shame and his head throbbed. He wanted to sink away into the couch and for his mom to pick up the shirt, crumpled and forgotten on the carpet next to them, and continue folding in peace like he'd never spoken. He knew he shouldn't have said anything.

Sunny couldn't recall how the situation had resolved itself; he must have begun spacing out at that point. He had the feeling his mom asked him something else, but when he’d lifted his head again to listen to her, her expression broke and she backtracked. Whatever her question had been this time, she seemed to have changed her mind and instead cupped his face before opening her mouth once more. Sunny strained to listen to her and managed to make out the tail end of it.

"—worry about a thing. Mommy will handle it."

Handle what? Sunny only found out later through a new voicemail on the telephone they now kept in the living room. He'd poked his head out of his room after holing himself there for the rest of the day; the exhaustion from his outburst had taken its toll hard. Drifting in and out of sleep, he faintly remembered his mom knocking on his door with the announcement of dinner being ready. But he'd just closed his eye and drifted back to sleep without answering.

Padding across the living room floor, lit only by the light in the abutting kitchen, Sunny made a beeline to the phone. He pressed play, and an automated voice reported that there were "2 new messages." Sunny blinked, absently thinking that his mom must have left a second message, before her familiar voice sounded, processed and compressed through the telephone's speakers.

"Hey, Sunny! It looks like Mommy won't be home until very late tonight! Work has gotten busy, and I'm not sure when I'll be finishing up. I wrapped up your portion of dinner and left it in the fridge for you before heading out if you get hungry. I'll also make sure to pick up those air fresheners on my way home! If anything else comes to mind— if you need to ask for anything else, please let me know. Mommy loves you more than anything else." There was a slight pause before she continued, in which Sunny thought he heard a distant, shaky inhale and a swallow. "OK, that's it for now! Don't hesitate to call me if you need me! Bye, honey!" Bzzt...

At the mention of food, Sunny's gaze had strayed to the kitchen, the single light in the middle of the ceiling illuminating the room, before his eye caught on the stainless steel of the fridge. As the message had continued, his eye dropped to the floor before returning to stare down at the phone. His stomach growled, but he ignored it as the automated voice cut in, stating the date and time the message was sent.

"Wednesday, 10:38 PM."

Sunny glanced up at the wall clock perched above the TV. 2:12 AM. A little over two hours past midnight. He wondered if his mom was on her way back yet.

Sunny startled as the automated voice continued speaking, "One new message." Oh right, Mom's second message. Sunny only had a moment to think about what she might have forgotten to add earlier before he jolted at the unexpected tone and quality of the voice that came from the speakers. The voice was hushed, but retained an energy and volume that almost rendered the whispered tone they were using pointless.

"Hey, Sunny! How've you been? Sorry for calling so late at night! I finally found out your new place's phone number from my mom today, and I…! I just couldn't wait til tomorrow to call, heh. Hero finally fell asleep so I could... Ah! ... This is Kel by the way, heh heh..."

Sunny had recognized his voice the moment he'd started speaking. Kel must have been whispering to keep from waking up the rest of his family. His voice was naturally projecting, so he was obviously struggling to keep his voice down. His tone occasionally drifted out of its whisper, and Sunny heard a brief but distinct pause in the middle of his sentence as Kel tried to quiet himself.

At Kel's sheepish laughter, having forgotten to introduce himself at the beginning of his message, Sunny's hands unknowingly released themselves from their tight grip on each other. He shifted a step closer to the phone, expression morphing into a tiny one of exasperated amusement. A ghost of a smile on his lips, Sunny imagined Kel's family interrupting the call after being woken up, despite Kel's best but ineffective efforts to keep his voice down.

"I, uh... I was wondering if you maybe wanna hang out sometime soon…? I know it's only been a little over two and a half weeks since we saw each other last, but... Man, I just miss... Hanging out with everyone is nice and all, but it just isn't the same without... without you there too..."

Kel's voice trailed off, but had become genuinely quiet before it'd done so. Filled with... Sunny's eye once again moved from the phone to the floor as he turned his head away. Kel sounded.... lonely? No, that couldn't be right. Kel has always been energetic and optimistic; the three days Sunny had spent with him, Kel had spoken to friends from his school and had no trouble striking up a conversation with anyone in town. There's no doubt in Sunny's mind that Kel could make friends as easily as he breathed. Yet...

His mom's words from before echoed in his head, "Kel has been trying really hard to get a hold of you ever since we put our house up for sale. He's been calling us every week for the past few months! He seems a little lonely... Maybe you should pay him a visit."

Sunny's eye traced the contours of the shadows from the living room's furniture, elongated and cast by the light in the kitchen. Kel's voice continued, "I know a lot happened, during and... n-near the end of it... but those few days I got to spend with you... a-and Hero, and Aubrey, and Basil... I..."

This pause was longer than the previous, and it had Sunny unconsciously holding his breath, his left hand absently picking at the seam in his shorts.

"... I'm getting a bit off-topic here, aren't I? Haha... Sniff…

“I... just want you to know that, well, that I'm always here for you. And that— that nothing'll change that. Nothing has changed that. I mean it... okay?"

The shapes formed by the shadows, however etched into Sunny's mind they were from his unblinking stare, wobbled in his swimming vision and he shut his eye. His eyepatch became damp once more, while tears slid freely down the left side of his face. Sunny's eye seemed to burn more painfully than earlier that day, and his quickened breathing every so often gave way to quiet, shaking sobs. Sunny tried not to think about how Kel’s voice mirrored his own as the recorded message continued, deaf to any response to it.

"So— Uhh… Please let me know if you're good to hang out soon, or later even, no pressure i-if you're—if you're not feeling up to it! Just hit me with any date and I'll be there! Promise! ... Or even if you just wanna talk on the phone, you can call for that too. I-I'll give you our number in case you forgot it, okay? ... Talk to you soon, Sunny. Bye."

After Kel listed out the numbers for his home phone—which Sunny still knew by heart—and said his parting words quickly in a rush to hang up, Sunny barely registered the answering machine's automated voice listing the date and time Kel's message had been recorded:

"Thursday, 1:53 AM. End of final message."

That was barely 20 minutes ago. Sunny wondered if Kel was still crying. Guilt bore into him and made its home next to something uglier. Sunny wondered why Kel was crying. Over him— No, because of him. Sunny wondered— Sunny knew he didn't deserve it. A monster with no purpose other than to hurt and steal from others, rob them of their happiness and subsist on their misery. He should just—

"I... just want you to know that, well, I'm always here for you. And that— that nothing'll change that. Nothing has changed that."

Sunny brought a hand to his chest and clutched at his shirt tightly. He lowered himself to the floor and pushed the palm of his other hand into the middle of his forehead in an attempt to relieve the throbbing in his head. When that proved fruitless, he grabbed the collar of his shirt with both hands and lifted the fabric to his face. He held it there, soaking the material. His burning eye made him unwilling to rub at it, so he focused on calming his breathing instead.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Breathe in, then out.

Just like you'd been taught to once, a long time ago. Take a deep breath. Controlling your breathing goes a long way toward controlling your emotions.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

...

When Sunny opened his eye, those deep breaths stuttered to an abrupt stop as his throat clamped shut, building calm replaced by a fear that pricked cold at the back of his neck and coiled deep and viscous in his stomach. Gaze stuck to the floor, Sunny distantly wondered if the light in the kitchen went out, because the room was suddenly much too dark to make sense of what he saw.

Still kneeling on the ground, Sunny stared, frozen in place, as something in front of him warped and contorted and changed its shape. Licking toward him before slinking back again in a rhythm not unlike the waves from the beach he'd been to so long ago, tendrils of shadows flowed outward, outward, and over each other before slowly stealing inward. Indistinguishable swaths of shadow compressed and coalesced into the shape of a person, crumpled and unceremoniously sprawled at the bottom of the steps that trailed impossibly and infinitely upwards behind them. Dark shadows gave way to a pale dress and just as pale skin that contrasted starkly against black locks of hair, framing and splayed across the figure in a haphazard and conclusive display of action and consequence. The only color present was the red light now streaming in through windows Sunny didn't dare look toward, boxing in the figure's upper body and glinting off of splintered and broken pieces of varnished wood, crushed and mangled further beneath the dead weight.

But Sunny couldn't take his eye off of the figure's face. In place of the almost expected too-big slit of a single eye, there sat a familiar face, features frozen in place with both eyes wide and mouth gaping. Head lolled to the right, her eyes faced Sunny, forcing him into a stare with a gaze now forever unseeing. She had never looked at him with an expression like that before. The scene felt as familiar as it did unfamiliar. As real as it was unreal.

A voice coming from his right finally drew his eye from the sight in front of him,

"Sunny...?"

It was a voice both shaken with fear and cold with judgment. It echoed over itself as if two people had spoken at once, though only a single figure stood beside him. A friend. A stranger. Loyalty and betrayal, love and hatred, all alongside an inescapable bond of fate. This person's body, small with young age yet towering over him, was completely dark with shadow save for two glowing, piercing white eyes, staring down at Sunny with an inscrutable expression. The stranger met Sunny's eye with their own the way hers never again would. When they opened their mouth, something touched Sunny's left cheek. The damning sound of a bell resounded in his ears, and Sunny immediately pushed himself to legs unwilling to stand. He barely managed any distance before his foot was hooked by the leg of a piece of furniture he couldn't see, and in his blind and desperate retreat, he fell roughly to the floor.

Sunny couldn't hear over his own panicked breathing as he scrambled to get his legs underneath him. When he finally got moving, squelches and odd groans sounded intermittently with his footfalls as black, oozing shapes on the ground were crushed underfoot in his escape. The sound made the sick feeling in his head and stomach worse, and Sunny panicked when one made a particularly agonized squeal. He hurled himself terrified and without thinking in the opposite direction. Eye squeezed shut, a fearful gasp wrenched itself from his throat as he tripped over his own feet.

Sunny's forehead connected hard with drywall, and the sudden impact seemed to momentarily knock all thoughts from his mind. His legs crossed over each other at the ankles, Sunny brought his knees closer to his chest and curled inward protectively around his head. Compounding his previous headache, the pain left him all but incapacitated.

Sunny eventually brought shaking arms up to push against the wall, keeping his balance as he uncrossed his legs to come to a kneel. His own haggard breathing sounded in his ears, interrupted and breaking into a cut-off sound when he closed his mouth to swallow. One hand still left on the wall, Sunny quickly clasped the other over his mouth. Pushing himself up to reach a stand, he turned his head to finally risk a look at his surroundings.

He was standing in the foyer of the house. The wall he'd run into stood adjacent to the front door. Directly across were the stairs, leading up to where he'd made his way down from his new room. The light from the kitchen was still on, shining weakly from two rooms over. But it was still nowhere near as dark as it had been; Sunny could clearly make out where he was, where the floor met the walls.

And that nothing he'd been seeing had been real...

He had no time to dwell on this as his stomach lurched once more. Vision swimming, Sunny made his way to the bathroom, just to the right and around the corner. Not confident the stairs were possible for him at the moment, he kept one hand on the wall as he made his way there, relieved this house had a bathroom downstairs as well.

If he hadn't been distracted by the pain at that moment, Sunny would've been glad that his mom hadn't been home yet, so he didn't need to explain why he'd face planted into the wall.

Leaning with his back to the wall and eye to the ceiling, he let out a long breath. His legs were still weak, and he could feel the familiar headache telling him he hadn't eaten in who knows how long. Throwing up earlier hadn't helped either, so Sunny was feeling pretty awful.

Deciding he could try to resolve at least one reason why he felt so horrible, Sunny started on his way to the kitchen. Even hallucinations as bad as that had just tended to be a one and done situation.

As expected, when he came back to the living room, there were no figures or unnatural shadows to be seen. Keeping a steady pace, Sunny pointedly kept his gaze away from the phone.

The cold of the tile in the kitchen seeped into his socked feet as Sunny stepped through the entryway, making his way to the fridge. He paused with his hand on the handle. It was a newer model, split down the middle vertically instead of horizontally like their old fridge. This one had a water dispenser on the left side. Two levers: one for the ice and one for the water.

Sunny's eye caught sight of something past the water dispenser and visible from his standpoint, his eye only needing to adjust for distance. On the kitchen counter sat a knife holder, the wood obscuring the blades of the knives stuck within. Sunny's right hand clenched around the fridge's handle tightly before he released it, letting it fall to his side. A quick glance back at it and Sunny saw the smudge of his handprint now marring the surface of the stainless steel handle.

His Initial reason for coming into the kitchen cast aside, Sunny walked over to the knife holder and relieved it of a single blade. One which he knew would fit in his hand perfectly, familiar as if it belonged there. As he grasped the handle, he felt a calm wash over him.

No, a calm determination, vacant of any emotion. There's something he ought to do instead of wasting food. No point in eating anything.

Sunny glanced back over at the fridge, handle too far away now to see the smudge he left on its handle. His gaze moved from the handle, to his stomach, to the floor, coming to rest on the knife for a few moments longer before moving to the floor again. As Sunny swiveled his head to the doorway from which he'd entered the kitchen, he slowly lowered the knife to his side.

By the time he'd made his way through the living room once more, Sunny made up his mind. All he'd relent to himself is to go in comfort. Mari would forgive him for that, right? He just hoped his mom would forgive the mess.

Slight creaks echoing alongside soft thuds, Sunny could almost imagine he was walking up the stairs to the Neighbor's Bedroom for a well-needed rest under the watchful eye of the big yellow cat with his friends who are always happy to see him and—

Any semblance of thought he may have had was ripped from his mind as he suddenly felt something burst out of his stomach. Sunny startled, but oddly felt no pain from his midsection. His progress in walking toward his room suddenly halted in such a terrifying way, his body lurched, sending him careening into the nearest wall. Losing his balance when his socks gave no grip on the wood-tile flooring, he hit the back of his head on the offending wall and clenched his eye shut on impact. Sunny almost tried convincing himself that the pain was the only reason tears pricked at his eye once more.

Sunny's eye shot back open at the sensation of something pressing down on his stomach.

An arm.

As pale as a sheet of paper, cut off at the shoulder as it seemed to project out from Sunny's black shirt, the arm was in stark contrast to the dark fabric. Bent at the elbow, it tensed before pushing and pressing its palm more forcefully against Sunny's stomach. Nausea spiking for a moment, Sunny swallowed a pained gasp before shakily pressing himself further into the wall in a futile attempt to escape the situation. The hand froze and immediately paused its movements. A metallic clang sounded in Sunny's ears, and his breath hitched as the glint of a blade entered his vision.

The knife.

Dropped out of his hands and now lying on the floor next to him.

Eye wide and terrified, Sunny's panicked breathing gained an edge of vocalized fear as he lunged for it. Accidentally grabbing it by the blade, adrenaline pushed his actions and his hands desperately adjusted their position to grasp and poise the knife properly.

Hauntingly familiar, the knife pointed at his stomach, Sunny grit his teeth and brought it down and inward.

With unnatural speed, the pale arm shot up and grabbed Sunny's right wrist. With unnatural strength, it wrenched both his hand and the knife away. A second hand snaked its way around to grasp and pull downward on Sunny's left arm. Sunny’s stomach shifted unnaturally, and his throat closed up reflexively as he fought back the nausea overwhelming him. As these events unfolded, so did his posture, and Sunny found himself lying on the wood floor with only his head propped up, neck bent uncomfortably at the wall’s baseboard.

A figure now kneeled in front of him, limbs awkwardly positioned to avoid where Sunny’s legs met the floor. For a moment, the only sound that occupied the space was Sunny's breathing. The figure did not move aside from where their hand gripped Sunny's, the latter's trembling sending slight tremors through them. They were void of color aside from the bright red now dripping from Sunny's palm onto their hand like red paint flecked onto a blank canvas. The blood trailed down the figure's arm, meeting the elbow before dropping to the floor. However, Sunny’s eye was glued to the figure’s. A familiar and calm gaze met his, seemingly unblinkingly.

Panic and disbelief began to give way to fatigue as neither of them moved. The moment Sunny's grip loosened, paper-white hands plucked the knife from him. The sight of the figure now, knife in hand, sent flashes of a barely-won fight into his head.

Omori.

Terror seized Sunny's thoughts once more as an ice-cold chill ran through his body and he flinched away, slamming the back of his head into the wood floor. The pain was so great this time, Sunny was almost sure his head had split open. Omori's eyes creased slightly, lips pursing, before releasing his grip on Sunny's left arm. Omori repositioned his legs as his weight shifted, and he reached a hand toward Sunny's head. Tears now falling down the sides of his face, Sunny clenched his eye shut and tilted his head away before cold fingers made contact with his forehead.

Sunny’s last thought was that the chill felt oddly nice on his heated skin.

Chapter Text

When Kel woke up, his first thought was ‘OW!’

This was also his second thought since he’d immediately jumped out of bed and tripped over his basketball that he swore moved sometime in the night just to take him out when he woke up.

“Ugghhhh… Who put you there…” Kel complained into the orange rug marking his side of the bedroom. Before he could finish reveling in his self-inflicted pain and get up, he received an answer to his rhetorical question.

“I’m going to take a wild guess and say the culprit may be someone you know.”

Owner of the blue-rugged side of the room himself, Hero was bent down in the doorway of the room when Kel looked up. The offending basketball secured in his hands, Hero straightened and moved further into the room before setting the ball down into Kel's laundry basket, barely fitting atop the pile of dirty clothes it held.

“I have no clue who you could possibly be talking about.” Shifting his arms to prop himself up, Kel closed his eyes and angled his head away from Hero in faux indignation. Hero kneeled down and held out his hand. Kel held his pose for a moment before taking his brother’s hand with a grin.

“You alright? Looks like it wasn't as bad as it sounded from downstairs, but…” Pulling Kel up, Hero smiled as well, but Kel noted that it was strained and accompanied by slightly furrowed brows. Looks like he was still worried.

“Nah, I'm fine; I've taken harder falls in gym class—Heck, I've taken harder falls when I was a kid, haha! I know you know that.” Saying this, Kel straightened and put a hand on Hero's shoulder with a lighthearted chuckle. Hero's slightly worried expression morphed into that of pained exasperation. He then looked off to the side and his eyes unfocused in a way that suggested he was reliving one such memory.

“Please don't remind me.” Pausing, Hero closed his eyes, brows creasing further the longer he stood there. “I don't think I'll ever be able to forget how much blood there was when you hit your head that one summer. I'd never heard Mom scream as loud as she did that day; even Dad had a hard time calming her down.”

“Uh…” Kel blinked as Hero continued speaking.

“I had absolutely no clue what to do, and you got up and kept running around like nothing had happened…”

“Uh, bro…?”

“God, I'm glad I didn't know as much as I do now about head injuries; I don't think I'd have been able to sleep until you got back from the hospital.” Hero paused before he lifted a hand and brought it to his forehead. He amended, “Actually, wait, no, the sight of all those stitches did that to me then—”

“Hero!”

Kel's attempt at cheering Hero up having thoroughly and unexpectedly backfired, Kel instead changed tactics and interrupted Hero's spiral. Putting his hands on each of Hero's shoulders and gently but purposefully shaking him, Kel continued, “I need you to breathe.”

Hero blinked twice before refocusing and furrowing his brows. His pale expression remained. “Kel, I am breathing—”

“Heeeee, hoooooo. You are not fourteen anymore. Heeeeeee, hooooooo. Your little brother is not hurt. Heeeeeeeee, hoooooooo.”

Kel's breathing became increasingly theatrical as time went on. Fearing Kel may end up making himself light-headed in his attempt to get Hero to breathe with him, Hero decided to play along, albeit less dramatically.

As Hero inhaled, he mentally counted to four and held his breath for another four, exhaling and holding again, each for the same duration. Though he'd forgotten where he'd first learned this breathing exercise from, Hero has had a lot of experience using it, especially lately. He distantly recognized that Kel's breathing began to fall in line with this rhythm. Opening his eyes, which he must have unknowingly closed out of pure habit, Hero saw an unexpectedly focused look on Kel's face.

Head tilted slightly to the side as if he were in the middle of trying to solve a puzzle, Kel's usual smile was replaced by slightly pursed lips drawn together in thought. His eyes were pointed downward and, after a moment, Kel inexplicably blinked, straightened, and, expression clearing, raised his eyes to look back up at Hero.

Before Hero had a chance to ask if something was on his shirt, his nose caught the smell of something burning. Eyes widening in realization, Hero swallowed a curse before rushing out of the room. He nearly jumped down half of the stairs in his race to the kitchen.

Footfalls sounding closely behind him, Hero quickly turned the stove off and removed the pan from the heating element before opening the window to allow the kitchen to ventilate. Crisis averted, Hero braced a hand on the counter, bent slightly at the knees, and let out a deep sigh.

“… You were making breakfast?”

“I was…”

Kel stood in the cased opening to the kitchen. Watching as Hero hunched over the counter, Kel opened his mouth to speak, but paused as his eyes followed Hero's right hand as it moved to rest on his forehead. Kel's eyebrows creased and, as he walked to his brother's side, he craned his neck to try to get a better look at Hero's face. Kel spoke carefully, “It's not like you to forget about what you're cooking.”

Hero seemed to catch on to Kel's unspoken question, tensing his left hand, which rested on the counter still, before lifting it and himself into a sheepish posture. He turned slightly toward Kel.

“Yeah, I guess I've been spacing out a little lately. Didn't sleep too well last night either, haha.” Eyes not quite meeting Kel's, Hero made his way over to the fridge before continuing to speak, “I'll get some more eggs out. Since you're here now, how would you like your eggs done?”

Kel watched Hero rummage around in the fridge for a moment before answering. “Hmmmmm… Surprise me!”

“Surprise you?” Hero walked the carton of eggs to the counter before putting a hand to his chin as he contemplated something. Kel closed his eyes, put his hands on his hips, and pursed his lips before letting out an exaggerated sound of confirmation, “mmm-HM!” Each syllable was accompanied by the dramatic bobbing of his head down and then up, respectively.

Hero paid no mind to Kel's antics, removing his hand from underneath his chin to reach for the nearest cabinet and pulling it open. He retrieved a loaf of bread before turning to Kel.

“How about we make them into sandwiches?”

“Wh— Bro, you ruined it!”

“H-Huh?”

“It's not a surprise anymore!”

“… Kel, that's not going to make it taste any—”

With the two brothers sitting down to eat, the only noise heard in the living room consisted of Kel's enthusiastic munching and the considerably more quiet hum of the air conditioning. Hero watched Kel eat with an amused and fond look on his face. Taking another bite of his own sandwich, Hero turned his gaze to the window. His eyes tracked the occasional car that passed by, taking in the sight of a normal, peaceful day.

What remained of his small smile slipping from his face, Hero's expression sobered. Without taking his eyes away from the window, Hero opened his mouth.

“Kel.”

“Mmm?” Barely pausing his chewing, Kel let out a noise with a questioning tone.

“Last night, did you—”

Before he could finish his question, Hero was cut off by the sound of his brother accidentally inhaling his food. Hacking violently, Kel pushed away from the table, hunched in on himself, and rapped a fist against his chest repeatedly.

Gaze torn away from the view outside, Hero shot to his feet and stood by Kel’s side. Panicked, Hero’s hands hovered over Kel before he all but forced his own barely touched glass of water into his little brother's hands.

No sooner than he did had Kel downed the entire glass. Hero watched him with bated breath, brows furrowed and hands still hovering, still ready to jump into action if he needed to. Kel set the now empty glass down with a resounding thud. With a deep sigh and a laugh creeping into his abating coughs, Kel sank to his knees and sprawled his arms out across the table on each side of his now empty plate.

“Ahahaha… ha… guess I may have eaten too fast just now, huh? Haha…” Kel spoke as he looked up at Hero sheepishly.

Seeing that his brother was able to speak and very much no longer choking, Hero relaxed slightly, tension leaving his shoulders and his hands finally lowering. Heart still pounding, he immediately launched into a lecture, his voice stern in a way Kel only heard when it was out of worry rather than indignation.

“I've been telling you that one of these days you were going to choke! You need to be more careful! You were lucky you were able to wash it down this time!”

“Aww, c'mon, bro! I'm okay! And with Doctor Hero here, I was in the best hands!” Kel argued, jumping to his feet and turning to face Hero.

“… You know the Heimlich maneuver, even done properly, tends to break ribs, right?”

The look Kel sent back at him communicated that no, he did not know that. And he was glad to have not found out.

So was Hero.

Hero sighed, deciding to drop the lecture. As the silence continued, Kel pursed his lips and tilted his head slightly with his eyes pointed somewhere off to the left. He seemed to be contemplating something, shifting in place slightly with nervous energy and gripping the cloth of his shorts tightly between his fingers, a small behavioral tic he's had since he was a kid. Hero supposed that the difference between then and now is that the Kel standing in front of him was not trying to hide his uneaten vegetables in the trash or admitting he'd knocked over a vase. Hero had always seen through his little brother's fibs; he's always been so easy to read. The very definition of someone who lives with their heart on their sleeve.

Knowing this about his brother, his own eyes followed the faint traces of red that rimmed Kel's eyes. Hero suddenly saw his own visage staring back at him, a sight he'd gotten used to seeing in the mirror four years ago. Seeing even a hint of this on Kel's face sent his stomach through the floor. The thought of Kel feeling the same way Hero had felt back then was… wrong. It sent his mind screeching to a halt, like he couldn't comprehend, couldn't tolerate the mere idea of it.

Hero knew why Kel was nervous. Because Hero knew what he was hesitating to tell him.

Just like Hero had told Kel earlier, it's true that he'd had a hard time sleeping last night. But he knows he wasn't the only one.

Three hours after they'd said their good nights, Hero finally decided to turn in for the day. He may have been home again to visit during summer break, but that didn’t mean school had signed off on his freedom. He could still see the words and diagrams from his textbook, stuck in his vision like they were burned directly into his retinas, not just his brain.

Settling into his bed, Hero closed his eyes and prepared himself for another long night of tossing and turning, waking up at random from nightmares he didn't need to remember to know exactly what they were about. An old normal he's fighting his return to.

But, inexplicably, his eyes opened. He wasn't quite sure why, but he felt like something was wrong. Something was missing. Something that has been a constant in his life for a large part of the last 16 years.

Kel wasn't snoring.

Hero quietly looked over, expecting that his brother had simply gone to the bathroom and Hero hadn't noticed him leave. But no, a familiar lump filled the orange blankets of the bed across the room. Wide awake now, Hero eyed the Kel-shaped lump. He ignored the part of him that felt relieved at the sight of that lump moving with Kel's breathing.

Hero considered calling out to him, but something stopped his voice short. He hesitated.

Hero continued watching.

For what, he wasn't sure; maybe for Kel to start snoring, or to get up from his bed. To talk to him? Kel had seemed restless the entire day, repeating the same ‘I'm fine' in response to Hero's ‘everything alright?’ It was so convincing that it had Hero lying awake thinking that he definitely wasn't. It may not have been what Kel was trying to convince him of, but no matter what he had to talk about, Hero would listen. He always would.

As the minutes passed, Hero's eyes started to droop as the late hours caught up to him. He hadn't realized he had almost completely drifted off until the quiet shuffling of sheets grabbed his attention back. Focusing again, Hero kept still and watched as Kel slowly slipped out of his covers. As quietly as he could manage, it seemed. Hero's eyes narrowed slightly. Kel normally slept like a log the entire night, but when he did wake, he was never particularly careful to avoid waking Hero up as well.

Hero watched Kel's figure sit up and pause for a long moment. Hero had half a mind to guess that Kel was looking over at him to check that he was still asleep. Using the low lighting of the room to feign sleep while still being able to see, Hero narrowed his eyes to slits and relaxed his posture. Seconds more passed before Kel moved again, this time sliding off of his bed and moving to the foot of it before crouching. Now, Hero had no way of confirming what he was doing without sitting up and revealing that he was awake.

A smidgen of guilt ate at him faintly, and Hero again felt the urge to call out to his brother and just talk instead of disingenuously pretending to be unconscious to spy on him, but… something stopped him again. That same something. The elephant in the room.

As Kel rummaged around, Hero minutely cursing how loud the air conditioning now seemed to be, Hero thought about why he couldn't bring himself to speak now. Maybe he didn't want to think about… about Mari…

A familiar feeling of sorrow filled him, and yes… he still couldn't bring himself to think about her so deeply. But he didn’t think that’s what was stopping him. After all, the topic Kel was specifically keeping away from him was about—

Hero's eyes truly closed during his inner monologue. While unconsciously relying solely on his hearing, his ears caught the moment Kel’s rummaging produced the unmistakable sound of a zipper and paper crumpling. It was a tiny sound; if he hadn't been listening so intently, he may not have caught it. Immediately, Hero remembered where Kel's backpack always sat: at the foot of his bed, unceremoniously thrown there after every school day by its owner.

So Kel had hidden something in his bag; a crumpled up piece of paper, from the sound of it. Of course, the important part must be what was written on it, and there was no way for Hero to parse that kind of information just by listening. And Kel wasn't likely to read it out loud while he was being so careful not to wake him.

The sounds of crinkled paper sounded in the air for a few moments before silence filled back in. With no other noise to occupy Hero’s ears, the rumble of the air conditioner seemed almost deafening. He continued gazing at the foot of Kel's bed. The silence continued for long enough that Hero began to consider whether Kel had decided to sleep on the floor, cuddling his backpack.

Until a sniffle interrupted this thought. Hero's eyes opened once more, and the urge to call out to his brother practically strangled him with its urgency. And it was also at this moment that the air-conditioning chose to shut off. With nothing at all left to mask the sound, Hero's ears were forced into front row seats before Kel's show of sorrow. Hero's knuckles turned white with how hard he clenched them. Brows furrowed and body tense, a deep bitterness surfaced as Hero kept his mouth shut. With all the nothing he was doing to comfort Kel, Hero felt that he may as well have been the one to make him cry to begin with. Listening to his little brother attempt to regulate his breathing and get his emotions under control, Hero felt his own eyes burn.

But if Hero was right, he really was part of the reason Kel was crying. And if he had to guess at what was written on that crumpled up sheet of paper, it had to have something to do with Sunny. Because Sunny was the elephant in the room, what Kel won't bring up with Hero around.

The only things that Kel hesitates to speak his mind about are things that may upset others. He wasn't always like this, either. Speaking without thinking was Kel’s passion as a kid, never hesitating, but always quick to apologize if his words genuinely hurt someone. Although often still dense, there's no mistaking the stark difference between then and now. Since that day Hero had snapped at Kel. Since that day Hero had realized he needed to pull himself together. He'd always hoped that Kel didn't remember it, but there's no denying his change in attitude since then.

If Hero said he wasn't avoiding thinking about Sunny, he'd be lying. Distracting himself was a habit he picked up while trying to… be okay after Mari passed. Faced with a cognate situation, Hero may have fallen back on that coping mechanism hard. It's an awful habit, he knew that. But it was all he could do not to climb back into bed and never leave. What Sunny told them… it’d nearly brought him right back there.

But…

Hero refocused his attention on Kel. He seemed to have collected himself, standing once more and lifting himself back up into Hero's line of sight.

Sunny's confession was more than a shock, but it must be what had followed that had Kel acting like this.

If Hero was hurting his brother with this habit, he'd break it. He was hurting enough. They all were. Hero said they'd stay together this time, and he still meant it. He needed to talk to Kel, tell him that.

And Sunny, too. He really needed to tell Sunny that. If the question were if Hero forgave him… he couldn't answer that right now. He didn't know if he ever would. But Hero did know that he wanted Sunny to be okay. Even now, he couldn’t believe he didn’t see… didn't notice anything. Was he avoiding thinking too deeply about Sunny, too? Did thinking about Sunny bring his thoughts too close to Mari? Hero gritted his teeth.

Get it together. You need to be there for them. What have you been doing?

Kel slowly made his way across their bedroom, toward the door. He turned the handle and opened it slowly. A particularly loud creak pierced through the deafening silence, and Hero doubled down on his sleeping act, moving as if the sound had nearly woken him. Genuinely closing his eyes and scrunching them to really sell it, he faked rolling over, pulled on his covers, and nuzzled his head into his pillow, before falling still. A beat passed, and Hero heard the door slowly open further before closing with a belated click.

Hero only had the patience to wait a few seconds before sitting up and stepping out of bed himself. He quickly padded over to the door and pressed his ear to the crack. He listened to the soft thuds down the stairs before he turned the knob and opened the door far enough for him to peek through the opening. Hero felt both ridiculous and guilty, hunched over the side of the door and watching the top of Kel's head disappear as he walked down the stairs. Sneaking around in his own house; his younger self would be downright mortified to learn he's doing the exact thing he'd once scolded Kel for. Hero decided that he'd talk to Kel properly tomorrow. If Kel stayed awake for hours to avoid bothering him, Hero would hold off for now.

Shutting the door as softly as he could, Hero turned to face his own bed once more. With a plan for tomorrow in mind and, consequently, without a reason to stay awake any longer, every step he took pulled heavy at his limbs. He only just managed to lie down properly and pull the covers over himself before unconsciousness took him. He hoped for a dreamless sleep, but knew better than to expect it.

Speaking of expectations, Hero woke up early the next morning. It was basically part of his routine at college, so it came as no surprise to him that his own exhaustion was the first thing to greet him as he opened his eyes. Even while sleep-deprived, his body refused to let him sleep in. He glanced at his alarm clock. 4:55 AM… Was his clock still set to 5 minutes early…? So, 5 o'clock in the morning. Those five extra minutes did nothing for the headache threatening to split his head open. And, as he'd predicted, his rest had indeed been restless.

Hero sighed. Giving up on his body somehow deciding to give him one nice thing, Hero removed his covers. Embarrassingly, half of it seemed to have been on the floor; Hero only realized this when he had to keep pulling to drag the fabric over himself and out of the way. Sitting up and touching his feet to the floor, Hero sat for a moment, hunched over with a hand pressed into the bridge of his nose in a vain attempt to relieve some of the pain in his head. He really hoped this wasn't the beginning of a migraine.

Lifting his eyes and straightening his posture, Hero looked across the room toward Kel's bed. His brother was still asleep, still curled up in his covers, but he wasn't snoring. Hero stood and made his way across the room. Kel was lying on his side, and Hero quietly watched the way Kel's hands clenched and unclenched around some invisible object. He was dreaming. No, more specifically, it looked like he was having a nightmare. Hero had hoped Kel was faring better in regard to nightmares, but the way tears slipped past his clenched eyes gave little room for doubt.

Hero watched Kel's lips tremble with half-formed syllables, unintelligible sleep talk, before lowering himself to his knees beside Kel's bed. He reached a hand out to wipe away a fresh tear, interrupting its intended path across Kel's nose and cheeks. But it wasn't long before a new one took its place and traced its way down the same track before vanishing into the dampened pillow his face was pressed into.

A pang of sorrow gripped his throat, and Hero instead moved his hand up to delicately swipe tear-wet strands of hair out of Kel’s face. Even asleep, Kel looked so tired. His sleep must be as restless as Hero's had been. Hero's expression tensed, and his mouth set into a thin line. In hopes of relieving even a little of the tension pervading Kel's frame, he did something he could not remember how long it had been since he last had: Hero gently ran his fingers through Kel's hair.

He’d done this often when Kel was very young, but as Kel had grown up, he began to throw fits about it instead. “Quit it, bro! I’m not three anymore!” Hero could still see how Kel stuck his tongue out as he ran away, jumping off of the couch and nearly bumping into everything in his path as he sped away. But when Kel was truly upset, he'd sometimes still crawled into Hero’s lap without saying anything, and when Hero mussed a hand through his hair, he could see Kel’s shoulders slowly relax. If he didn’t end up talking about what was bothering him, he would fall asleep like that. Though as soon as he woke up, Hero changed it to a playful tousle. If he didn’t, nine times out of ten, Kel would get embarrassed about it and the likelihood that he'd come back would fall drastically. Call it the grief of an older brother mourning the passage of time, but Hero would do whatever he needed to baby him for just a bit longer. Even now, he still saw Kel as that tiny mess of a kid. His baby brother.

Slowly, slowly, Kel unclenched his fists and straightened his shoulders. His quiet whimpers melted into silence as his trembling fell to quiescence. Hero left his hand on Kel's head for a moment before moving to pull Kel's covers back up over him. Sending a wish for a more dreamless sleep his way, Hero lifted himself to his feet and padded away. Sleep pulled at his limbs, but he ignored the temptation and pulled open the door to their room.

After taking one step outside their room, Hero thought back to last night when he'd watched the back of Kel's head disappear down the stairs. What exactly had he stayed up so late to do? Making his way down the stairs himself, Hero rubbed the back of his neck. No sense in regretting not tailing him now.

Well… if he had tailed him, Hero's sure he'd also have regretted doing so, albeit for a different reason. What was all that about “talking to Kel properly tomorrow?” Until Kel woke up, Hero would swallow his curiosity.

Making his way into the living room, Hero's mouth split into a yawn so wide it stopped him right in his tracks. His jaw popped in protest of it, to which Hero startled and clamped his mouth shut and clapped a hand to said jaw. The yawn had brought tears to his eyes. With his hand worriedly pressed into the space between his ear and jaw, hunched over and frozen in place, Hero was grateful that no one else was around to see him in such a sorry state. Dropping his hand to his side after a moment, Hero sighed deeply and hunched over further before bringing his hand back up to wipe away the uninvited guest of a tear that had trailed down his face.

Hero took in a deep breath and brought himself to his full height before letting it out. Feeling more awake now, Hero moved toward the front door to grab his shoes. A glance to the window told him the sun was still a ways from rising. He was used to taking his morning walks at this time, but he was especially glad to be back home to do it. Along with the familiar sights of his hometown, he often passed by regular walkers who always greeted him with a warm smile and a “How have you been?” But as he stepped forward, his socked foot pressed into something that laid on the floor, eliciting a quiet crackling noise. Hero quickly lifted his foot to see what he'd stepped on.

A severely wrinkled scrap of paper laid on the carpet, nearly blending into it completely. Hero at first bent down to pick it up, assuming it were just a piece of garbage that never made it to the trash can, but as he got a closer look, Hero paused. The scrap of paper looked like it had been repeatedly crumpled and flattened out, the surface of the paper left permanently rough. Hero's eyes widened at what was written on the coarse material. Roughly scrawled in Kel's messy handwriting was a phone number.

Hero didn't recognize the number, but it didn't take more than half a second for him to come to a conclusion. It had to be Sunny's. The new number to his new home. Assuming this was what made the wrinkling noises he heard last night, Hero was crestfallen once more at the thought.

Standing silently in the living room, the scrap of paper held loosely in his hand, Hero had stared down at the phone. A certain feeling he couldn't quite parse had welled up in his stomach, and his lips thinned.

Watching his little brother so nervously shifting in place now, it seemed Kel also wanted to bridge the gap in communication between them, but was afraid of upsetting him. If Hero needed to be the one to rip this Band-Aid off, so be it.

But as soon as Hero opened his mouth, so did the front door. Hero nearly started screaming in frustration. Instead, he clamped his mouth and eyes shut and swallowed every bit of the pained, childish whine that threatened to crawl its way up his throat from the depths of his soul.

Kel threw him a slightly wide-eyed look before whipping his head toward the source of the sound. From where they stood, Hero could see Mom and Dad walk in, a few grocery bags in their hands. Kel bounded over to them through the short hallway between the dining room and living room, shouting, “Hey, Mom! Hey, Dad!”

“Shhhh! You'll wake Sally!” Mom shout-whispered at Kel. Kel stopped in his tracks and clapped his hands over his mouth. Hero followed behind with a calm and collected and much more quiet “Welcome back,” complete with a pleasant smile.

Sally, fast asleep in Mom's arms, babbled quietly before settling. Unfreezing after a moment, Kel immediately jumped to Sally's side to coo over her, gently grabbing one of her tiny hands to hold with a single finger. Sally reflexively grasped it, and Kel's face practically melted into an expression of delight.

Hero moved forward to take a grocery bag from Dad's hands, who nodded his head in thanks before turning his nose toward the kitchen.

“Well, it smells delicious in here! Did you make breakfast, champ?”

“Haha, nothing fancy, just some egg sandwiches. Would you and Mom like some?” Hero tilted his head and directed his gaze over to Mom.

“Aww, you're so sweet, dear. That would be wonderful!” Mom smiled at him while Dad nodded in agreement.

“Alright! Let me clean up first, and I'll get started on it right away,” Hero beamed.

As Mom walked off to put Sally down to sleep in peace, tailed closely by Kel, Hero returned to the dining room to collect his and Kel’s dishes. Messy eater that Kel was, it looked like he'd have to wipe down the table where Kel had eaten. Hero neatly brushed every stray crumb onto the plates he held just under the lip of the table. He then balanced the emptied cup in the center of the plates. Dishes in hand, Hero quickly moved to the kitchen, rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher before returning to the dining room with a wet dish towel. He swiftly wiped down the table.

Finally returning to the kitchen to fire up the stove again, Hero leaned over the counter with a spatula in hand. His eyes traced the slowly whitening egg whites in the pan for a moment before he closed them. A heavy sense of comfort filled him as he stood. Cooking a late breakfast like this brought back memories. If he opened his eyes, he almost felt like he'd catch sight of a short head of black hair shyly peeking around him to watch him cook. A fond giggle sounded from his right. The faint sound of two kids bickering and a third timidly attempting to mediate echoed from the other room before the sound was interrupted by crackling. He lifted his eyelids and was left with the sight of two sunny side up eggs. The noise drowned out the whisper in his ears of times long past. As the sense of comfort turned melancholic, Hero deftly lifted the pan and flipped the eggs.

Hero straightened and turned his ears to the living room as he heard Mom and Kel re-enter. He seasoned the eggs and reduced the flame to a low heat as the toaster dinged. Hero's preoccupied mind barely caught onto the conversation from the other room when Kel's voice sounded, stuttering and flustered. As Hero sandwiched the eggs between lightly toasted and buttered bread, he listened more closely.

“You haven't called yet?” Mom’s voice sounded.

“N-No, not yet!” Kel lied. Hero knew that was a lie, since they were probably talking about—

“Really? You were so excited when I told you their new number, I thought you'd call right away.”

Hero served Dad, who had settled in the dining room in the meantime, with a slight bow of his head and a pleasant, amiable smile. Hero received a gruff thanks and matching smile in turn, and proceeded to quicken his pace back to the kitchen.

“Hahaha, well, y'know. I didn't wanna bother him so soon, he's probably still… recovering? And tired…?” Kel's voice came out worryingly more like a question than an answer. And much quieter than the shouting child from the memory Hero was lost in earlier. Hero lifted the second plated sandwich and walked it to the living room. The conversation grew louder and clearer as Mom continued speaking.

“I'm sure they'd still appreciate a call. That poor woman looked so exhausted. Hmm… Well, that does it, I'll just have to be the first to call, then!”

Saying this, Mom reached for the phone. Kel nearly flew off of his place on the couch before Hero intercepted her instead and smoothly took the phone in his left hand. Mom blinked owlishly at Hero before he spoke.

“Let me call. Go ahead and eat before it gets cold.” Hero put on his most charming smile as he presented her sandwich with his right hand. Mom was quickly won over by the sight.

“Oh…! Thank you, honey! Make sure you let them know we're thinking of them."

“Of course,” Hero agreed, and Mom walked off to join Dad in the dining room. Hero resisted throwing a look Kel's way and returned his attention to the phone. His fingers typed in the phone number with an easy rhythm, and Hero lifted the receiver to his ear. A quiet ringing tone greeted his ears for a few moments before a voice did.

“Hello?”

Sunny's mom had answered. And true to Mom's words, she sounded exhausted. Hero could tell from a single word.

“Hello, Ms. Suzuki?”

“Ah-! Hero? Oh, what a wonderful surprise to hear from you! How have you been?”

“I've been okay.” Hero said with a sincere and sad smile, though she couldn't see it. “But we wanted to call to check up on you two. How are you? Is Sunny doing well?”

Hero caught sight of Kel leaning forward from the corner of his eye. He glanced over for a moment to see him sitting on the floor now, eyes pointed downward and staring at the carpet like it owed him money. However, his ear was pointed directly at Hero. Hero felt a hint of amusement bubble up in his chest at the sight before Ms. Suzuki answered.

“Sunny is… he's okay. Recovery has been tough on him, but we've been staying on top of his treatment plan—”

But she was talking about physically. Hero asked again, “Is he okay?”

Hero could hear her hesitate as she took in a quiet breath and paused for a long moment. When she spoke, Hero was almost startled to hear her admit to what Hero had already inferred from what she hadn't said.

“No, he's not doing well… I'm honestly not sure what I should be doing… He's always had a small appetite, but lately he's been completely refusing to—” She cut herself off suddenly before backtracking, “Oh, gosh— I'm sorry, I shouldn't be putting this all on you. It's my job to worry about him.”

Hero's grip tightened on the receiver. He hasn't been eating? No, not just that, he's been refusing to.

When he first lost Mari, Hero had still tried to eat at first, but his body couldn't keep anything down. It wasn't long before he’d given up on eating almost entirely. He hadn't realized it at the time, but it was terrifying how fast Hero’s body had deteriorated. Sunny was already so small and had been nearly as physically inactive as Hero used to be. Thinking about it now, it didn't seem like Sunny had grown at all during the time Hero hadn't seen him. How much could Sunny's body bear to lose when there wasn't much there to begin with? How close could his body be to giving out? Hero felt lightheaded.

“It's not all bad news; He ate a big portion of his dinner last night, and I can tell he's been doing his best to speak more lately! I think that might be thanks to the short time he spent with you all before the move.”

Hero kept his voice as steady as could when he replied, “There's no need to thank us. I think that's just proof of Sunny's own strength. It takes a lot of courage to keep going… after what he's been through.”

There's a pause before Ms. Suzuki replied, “Yes, of course, you're right… Thank you for saying that.” After a short lapse in the conversation, she laughed softly. “I almost feel bad for moving. I know Kel has missed him very much. He called us every week before the move, you know.”

Hero laughed lightly. He opened his mouth to give a lighthearted quip about her taking Kel with them to their new home so they didn't have to be separated. But, before he could, Sunny's mom suddenly sucked in a breath as if she'd just remembered something.

“By the way, how is Kel? Is he there? I've been worried since I heard the voicemail he left us last night. Is he alright?”

So Kel did call them last night. Hero wondered what exactly he said in the voicemail to elicit such a worried response.

“Kel?” Hero repeated his brother's name conversationally.

At the sound of his name, Kel's head shot up, and he dropped all pretenses of acting like he wasn't trying to listen to the phone call. Hero glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. Kel’s face had gone slightly pale, and Hero caught sight of his hand twitching anxiously. It looked like he was barely holding himself back from rushing over and snatching the phone right from Hero's hands. Hero moved to lean against the bookcase and adjusted his grip on the receiver to rest on his left shoulder. He looked Kel straight in the eyes as he addressed Sunny's mom.

“Yes, Kel is fine. Though I'm sure he'd love to talk to Sunny, too.”

Saying this, Hero fished the scrap of paper out of his pocket. Holding it between his index and middle finger, he flashed it discreetly and wordlessly at Kel for a long moment before using this hand to grab the receiver and move it to his right ear. He slipped the paper back into his pocket.

“Sunny is still asleep at the moment, but I'll let him know you called when he gets up.”

It was a little past 1 in the afternoon by now, but Hero kept any comments about Sunny still being asleep to himself.

“I would appreciate that. Please tell him we're thinking of him. Oh, right. Mom wanted me to let you know that as well.”

“Thank you. Speaking of, are your parents out at the moment?”

Hero glanced toward the dining room.

“Yes, they left not long ago to get groceries. But I'll let them know you're expecting a call from them soon.”

“Haha, I don't want to pester them. It's more than enough to know we're in your thoughts.”

“Always, Ms. Suzuki. Please don't be afraid to let us know if you need anything.”

Following their exchange of polite valedictions, the call ended. With a click, Hero put down the receiver and turned to look at Kel. Kel looked at Hero in turn. Kel was the first to attempt to break the silence.

“… I, uh-”

But their parents chose this moment to walk back into the living room. Hero was all smiles as they asked how the call went. Hero's smile remained but softened as he told them that she seemed busy and that she wished she could have stayed on to talk to them. Kel shot him an incredulous, almost scandalized look. Hero ignored him as Mom asked,

“How is Sunny?”

“She said that Sunny's recovery is going well, though it's been rough on him.” Hero's smile fell away to a somber expression.

“That poor thing. What an awful accident; he's much too young to go through something like that…” Mom began to tear up and put a hand to her cheek. After breathing out a shaky sigh, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Hero. Hero reflexively wrapped his arms back around her.

“I'm so proud of you for helping to take care of him that day. I can't imagine what could've happened if those two boys were alone when it happened.”

Dad ruffled Kel’s hair as he chimed in, “You both did good. That's a tough thing to witness.” Hero watched as Kel’s expression nearly crumpled. The look brought Hero back to that night, and suddenly Kel's hands were completely soaked with blood. His face was smeared with it as he tried in vain to wipe tears away from his eyes without using his dirtied hands. Then Hero blinked, and the image dissipated as Kel swiped Dad's hand away.

“Quit it, Dad! You're messing up my hair! And besides, it all worked out! I told Hero again today, but there's nothing to fear if Doctor Hero is here!”

Hero felt a stress-induced headache forming. He broke away from Mom's hug and retorted, “Now you're making it sound like I'm some comic book hero.”

“I mean, you basically are. You really live up to your nickname!”

“I really doubt that. I only did what anyone else would have done in my position—”

“Oh, my dear brother, how modest you are!” And there go the theatrics. Hero felt his lips quirk upwards. He walked over with a grin and tousled Kel's hair. Kel quickly leaned away and grabbed Hero's arm to pull it away from himself, blustering loudly.

“Ack-! Bro, quit it! Everyone better STOP messing up my hair!”

Mom slowly began to sneak up on Kel, but he rounded on her with his hand poised in the shape of a gun, “Aha!”

Mom gasped in faux-indignation, “I carried you in my stomach for 9 months and this is the thanks I get!?”

“It is, actually!”

Hero let out a chuckle before putting his hand on top of Kel’s and lowering his brother's imaginary weapon. “Now, now, Kel. You know what she always says: ‘I brought you into this world. I can take you out.’”

“You're only saying that so she doesn't turn on you!” Kel retorted.

“Hey now, what's so bad about a noogie from your mother?” Mom chimed in.

Kel loudly yelled that ‘everything was bad about that!’ Hero's expression simply morphed into one of displeasure stemming from countless memories of said noogies. He had to agree with Kel, but knew better than to do so out loud.

“Hey, Dad over here is feeling left out! Won't anyone tousle this poor old man's hair?”

“Why? Are you trying to go bald faster?” Kel threw their father a facetiously taunting look.

Dad closed his eyes and dramatically pushed a hand through his thick locks, “Not everyone can have perfect hair genes like me. You should be careful with what you say, though. I heard that every man on your mother's side lost it all by 50.”

“Woah, we don't say things like that in front of Hero, remember!”

Aaaaaand, they're bringing up the time a 7-year-old Hero cried his eyes out when he learned that most men turn bald in their older years again. Alright, Hero decided this conversation was now ending before they all joined the customary familial dogpiling.

“Anyway! Kel!” Hero threw an arm around Kel’s shoulders and turned him toward the door. Kel whipped his head in Hero's direction. “What do you say to going on a walk with me?”

“Didn't you just go out for a walk this morning?”

“Yeah, but another one won't hurt me. And I thought it'd be nice to take a walk with you. Is that okay with you?” Kel looked slightly nervous, which Hero only noticed since he was looking for it.

“Sure thing, bro! I'd even be up for a race!” Kel agreed, smiling a bit too wide, and raced Hero to the door. Hero turned to ask his parents if they needed anything else while they're out. They declined, but thanked him for the offer.

Hector bounded over to Kel as Hero trailed behind them, laughing. Kel knelt down and rubbed Hector's cheeks.

“Awwwhaha, Hector, buddy, you wanna come with us?”

Hero walked up and began to put his shoes on. He crouched and pet Hector for a moment, laughing when Hector licked his arm in a slobbery thanks.

“That'd be perfect. Hector seems to have put on a few pounds while I've been gone.”

Hero wiped his hand while Kel grabbed the leash, hooked it to Hector’s collar, and off they went.

“We’ll be back later!”

“Bye, Mom! Bye, Dad!” Kel waved back as Hero closed the door behind them. The leash nearly left Kel's hand as Hector dashed forward. They had no particular destination in mind, so they went wherever Hector led them.

The weather was nice. A gentle breeze blew through their hair as the sun warmed their skin. The air smelled clean and the far off sound of laughing children resounded within the town's ambience. The brothers walked side by side as Hector kept up a leisurely trot ahead of them, his leash never once slackening enough to touch the ground. They didn't walk for long before Hero just came out and said it.

“Kel?”

“Hmm?”

“You want to go see Sunny, right?”

“HMM?!”

Kel immediately froze and lifted his shoulders right up to his ears. His brisk stride cut short abruptly, the leash pulled taut and tugged Hector back as well. Hector let out a slightly choked noise and stopped walking before turning his head and looking back up at Kel behind him, panting expectantly.

“I, UH- UHHH.”

Hero turned around as well, glancing down at Hector. Hector seemed to have realized the walk was not going to continue for the moment, and let out a particularly breathy huff as he plopped onto the grass. His tongue lolled out of his mouth as he continued to pant. He sure hadn't been taken out on a walk in a while, huh?

Meanwhile, Kel avoided Hero's gaze and thumbed the material of his shorts. Hesitatingly, he spoke.

“Yeah…” Kel's eyes rose to meet Hero’s only for a moment before he looked away again.

Hero stepped closer. Kel's lips pursed and his grip on the side of his shorts tightened before he lifted his head to speak.

“You don't—”

“Me too.”

“—hahuaghh?

Whatever Kel was going to say died in his throat as Hero cut him off, causing only a strangled noise of sudden confusion to leave his lips. After he fell silent, Kel's mouth continued to hang open in a look that painted his face in pure bewilderment.

Hero simply repeated himself, “I want to see Sunny, too.”

“Y-You… you do?”

Hero faltered slightly as Kel adopted a fearfully hopeful expression instead. Kel truly thought that Hero hated Sunny… If nothing else, Hero knew that wasn't true. He pushed on.

“Of course. I'm worried about him; his mom said that his recovery has been hard on him. I was thinking I could bake him something to cheer him up. He always had a sweet tooth for cookies, if I remember correctly.”

Kel’s expression brightened for a moment before he stiffened suddenly.

“And Basil too…?”

Hero stopped. He opened his mouth and then closed it. Completely reflexively, he almost replied, ‘of course.’ But he choked on the words, as if part of him rejected them.

Kel was looking at him. His lips were still pursed, and his expression was downturned, but at least he was still looking Hero in the eye. Hero swallowed once more, fought the urge to drop the conversation entirely, and carefully worded what he said next.

“I know… that I need to talk to him soon. I just need to— … Just give me some more time to get my thoughts in order.”

Kel continued to look at him, but his shoulders slowly fell along with his expression. He picked at the leash in his hands for a moment.

“I am worried about him, though,” Hero quickly provided. “I said it before, and I'll say it again—”

Hero closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around Kel.

“This time, we'll stay together,” Hero's voice broke as he said this, overcome with emotion. Like ripping off a bandage that had clung to the wound when the blood dried, ripping away skin with its removal. But the words came freely and easily.

“I'm not going to let this keep happening to us.”

Chapter Text

When Sunny opened his eyes, it began with the usual furrow of his brows as his sight adjusted to the sunlight streaming in through the slits of his blinds. What was not so usual was the way his head felt like it nearly split open as soon as his brain registered that he'd woken up. He sucked in a pained breath and pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes—

Sunny startled and ripped his hands away from his face as if he'd been burned. He froze in place with his eyes… eye shut tightly. He'd accidentally pressed a hand into the ball implanted within his eye socket.

Touching this implant did not hurt, but the pressure Sunny felt when he accidentally pressed his hand into it had felt wrong. He couldn’t actually feel the implant itself, but he could feel the sore muscles that were attached to it. The skin around his socket was still swollen, and he didn’t remember when that was supposed to go down, or how long was normal for it to stay swollen…

How long had it been since…?

Well, whatever. The swelling would go down when it went down… Though Sunny hoped it was soon.

Regardless, Sunny’s sleep-addled mind had somehow forgotten his right eye was even missing. His hands trembled as he laid in bed.

He didn't like to think about it. He'd gotten used to wearing the eyepatch without letting himself think about why.

After getting his breathing under control, Sunny slowly opened his remaining eye, careful to keep the lid over his right socket closed. He had once looked in the mirror in the bathroom without putting his eyepatch on and nearly passed out at the sight. He’d barely been able to replace the eyepatch through how badly he’d been shaking. Lesson learned and eyelid firmly kept shut, Sunny reached over to pull the eyepatch from his bedside table.

Except that it wasn't there.

The shock nearly had him reflexively opening both eyelids before he quickly shut them both. The tensed muscles tugged another note of pain from his socket. He slowly reopened his left eye and fought the urge to cry, though crying scared him a bit, like it was something he shouldn't do without an eye. He almost wished the doctor had removed his tear ducts as well. But they would have told them if it were bad for him to cry, right? If it were, they'd have taken out his tear ducts, right?

Sunny didn't know, so he stopped thinking about it. No point in asking himself questions he didn’t know the answers to. After he sat up, scooted to the side of his bed, and touched his feet to the floor, Sunny took another deep breath in an attempt to steady his heart rate. He prepared himself for the usual lightheadedness that came with standing, but to his surprise, it never came. Just a headache that seemed to pulse in rhythm with the beat of his heart. Padding his way toward the door, Sunny looked back and scanned his room to see if his eyepatch had just fallen onto the floor sometime during the night.

Sunny couldn’t identify anything out of place, aside from a lone pillow beside his bed. All that occupied the floor were moving boxes, only one of which was opened. The empty box, which had once housed his clothes, sat next to an open wardrobe.

A few days after they’d moved, his mom had put away his clothes for him, likely unable to bear the sight of the messy pile Sunny created when he had first worked himself up to put them away. He'd only gone through a few before he felt too tired to do much of anything else. The next time he'd woken up, the pile was gone and his clothes were folded and neatly put away. The ones he’d folded himself before had been refolded.

Sunny quickly walked back into the room and closed the doors to the wardrobe. His hands lingered for a moment, gripped tightly around the metal pulls. He let out a short breath before finally walking out to search for his eyepatch.

As glad as he had been to finally be free of the pressure patch, his new eyepatches often had him scratching his face where the material brushed against his skin. Sunny wondered if that was going to be his life going forward, or if his skin would get used to it.

Sunny first checked the upstairs bathroom to see if he'd left it in there. No such luck.

Mom's words of advice suddenly echoed in his head, telling him to “retrace his steps” when looking for something he'd lost.

…

… Oh.

Last night, he…

…

How did he get to bed last night?

As Sunny took careful steps down the stairs, all but clinging to the railing, he tried to recall what exactly he'd done the night before. After he'd woken up, he’d gone to get food, right? With this thought in mind, Sunny touched down on the bottom floor, successfully clearing the steps. He turned right and continued into the living room.

Next, he… Sunny's eye locked onto the phone before he promptly looked away and down to the floor. An unidentifiable feeling crawled up his spine, and Sunny lifted his gaze to the kitchen instead. He kept his eye away from the phone as he quickly scanned the living room for his eyepatch. Nothing.

The tiled flooring of the kitchen chilled his feet as he entered. He stared at the fridge for a while before he startled at the sound of a voice calling him.

“Sunny, you're awake! Oh— Sorry, honey!”

Sunny, wide-eyed, pressed a hand to his chest before he hurriedly squeezed his right eyelid shut again. The anxious feeling he felt without his eyepatch suddenly felt overwhelming as he turned his head to face his mom, who sat in the dining room. Well, he struggled to call it another room, since the kitchen and dining room shared the same space. Putting aside the island, those at the dinner table had a full view of the kitchen.

Which is why Mom noticed him right away when he walked into the kitchen. Once Sunny's heart rate tempered, he slowly padded over to her, nearly slipping when his socked feet lost traction on the tile. He'd made it to the table, though, so he didn’t think Mom noticed that he pressed his palms into the wood to steady himself rather than because he simply wanted to. But then she stood up and looked at him in worry. Sunny willed his ears to stop burning in embarrassment. However, to his confusion, she lifted a hand and brushed aside his bangs.

“What happened, honey?”

Sunny wasn't sure what she was talking about, so he just stared at her. Her gaze bore into his skull, however, so he looked away and at his hands instead, still pressed into the table. Sunny opened his mouth to try to force out an answer, but… again, he didn't know what she was talking about. He let out a short breath before closing his mouth. Was something on his forehead? Sunny lifted a hand to check.

The moment his fingers made contact with the center of his forehead, he sucked in a breath and tears pricked at the corners of his closed eyelids. His headache worsened significantly. It was only then that Sunny recognized that this headache wasn't caused by his usual poor sleeping habits. There was a knot on his forehead, the skin swollen in protest of an injury.

“Oh, sweetie. Did you hit your head on something? Here, let me get the— it looks like it was bleeding, too— I'll go get the first aid kit. We don't want to risk you getting an infection.” Saying so, Mom quickly ran off, presumably to retrieve said first aid kit. Sunny stood in place. It felt like his headache got worse once he noticed why he had one…

While waiting for Mom to come back, Sunny returned to the task at hand. He walked back into the kitchen, but his eyepatch was nowhere to be seen on any of the counters. Sunny paused for a moment before he grasped the handle to the fridge and pulled it open.

Okay, thankfully his eyepatch wasn't in the fridge. He doesn't remember opening the fridge last night, either, but better safe than sorry. It was frustrating that his supposed impressive memory wasn't helpful when he actually needed it.

Sunny moved to close the fridge again, but his eye caught on the container of leftovers his mom had left him.

… Huh?

Some of it was missing.

He didn't… there's no way he ate any of it. He felt sick any time he ate. And he didn't feel sick right now. But his mom wouldn't have eaten any of it…

As Sunny stewed in growing confusion, Mom finally returned. In her arms was the first aid kit, but there were a few extra items carefully balanced on top of it.

“Sorry for the wait! I grabbed your drops and some extra eyepatches. It doesn't look like they moved from where I put them… Did you forget to use them last night?” Mom's tone was obviously one that was trying not to sound accusatory, but Sunny's gaze immediately met the floor as soon as she’d asked. He stayed like that until she came closer, instead asking,

“Are you hungry, sweetie?”

Sunny looked back up at her before he turned to the still-open fridge. He was going to close it, but Mom’s hand pulled the door open further. Sunny went to shake his head, but his stomach decided to answer for him, growling rather loudly. His ears burned again.

“Your leftovers are still in here for you. Mommy's happy to see that you ate some of it! Would you like the rest of it now?” She pulled the container in question out of the fridge, looking at him expectantly.

Sunny was still lost. Mom was speaking as if Sunny had eaten it… even though he couldn't possibly have. But she wouldn't lie about it…

Sunny looked away. He didn’t want it. And he didn't want to somehow let her know he didn't remember eating it. She put it back into the fridge and ushered him over to the table.

“Let's clean up the cut on your forehead first. Then we can figure out breakfast.” She walked over to the dining room table where she had set down the first aid kit. Sunny followed obediently behind her before taking a seat. “I also brought over supplies for your eye in case you forgot to take your drops last night.”

Sunny couldn’t even remember what he’d done last night, of course, so he stayed silent. Mom took his silence as confirmation that he hadn't, which was probably true. If he didn't remember, he’d likely forgotten about it. He didn't wanna use them anyway…

“Would you mind if I helped you do that now?”

Sunny's heart rate picked up.

“It's okay to be afraid. The doctor said it may be easier to have me help you with it.”

He felt his eye start to burn. He nodded. Mom smiled at him reassuringly before standing.

“Let Mommy go wash her hands first, and we'll be done in no time.”

Sunny reached a hand out to get her attention before she left. He pointed to his closed socket, then covered it with his hand. Her expression morphed into one of understanding, and she reached into the first aid kit and pulled out an eyepatch before placing it in his outstretched hand.

It looked like one of the same ones their doctor gave them. Sunny doesn't like how scratchy they feel. He held it in his hands as Mom left to wash hers. The sound of water splashing into the sink filled his ears as he stared down at the eyepatch. He wanted to put it on right away, but there'd be no point. He'd just have to take it right back off. Sunny brushed his fingers against the coarse material and distantly wondered if he could help make himself desensitized to the scratchiness by doing so.

It wasn’t long before Mom returned. She quickly finished cleaning the cut on his head, which stung slightly, applied a bandage, and picked up the small bottle of eye drops. She held it in one hand and unscrewed the lid with her other.

“Could you tilt your head back for me, Sunny?”

His breathing felt wrong. He felt like he was shaking, but maybe he was just imagining it. Sunny could barely hear Mom's voice over the blood rushing past his ears. He gripped the eyepatch in his lap tightly and tilted his head back. Mom's left hand held Sunny's cheek, and she used her thumb to pull down on his lower eyelid. He may have unconsciously begun lowering his head again because Mom’s fingers found the underside of his chin and held his head in place. Her hold was gentle and easily escapable, but to Sunny it may as well have been a vice grip rooting him in place. His breathing picked up further and sounded quietly in his ears. Under his Mom's patient hands, Sunny gradually forced himself to stop clenching his eyelid shut. Opening it slowly, he internally cringed when cool air made contact with the inside of his socket.

“You're doing wonderful, sweetie. Let Mommy know if you'd like to stop, okay? This might feel a little cold.”

Sunny wanted to nod to show he heard her, but couldn't bring himself to move. He just wanted this to be over already. When Mom put the drop in, Sunny startled. It had already taken all of his willpower to keep his eyelids open before, but he slammed them shut once again and tilted his head away. The chill he felt where his eye no longer was scared him. The muscles that remained in his socket protested in pain when he tensed them. The ache remained even when Sunny finally managed to relax.

“It's okay, Sunny, you're all done! You just need to keep it closed for about 2 minutes. That shouldn't be a problem, though, right?”

Sunny swallowed before he opened his remaining eye and looked up at her. But his gaze caught onto his own hands wrapped tight around her wrist. A twinge of pain shot through his right palm. He quickly let go.

Why was he so scared? It's not like he could get his eye poked out when he didn't have one anymore. And it was just a drop of liquid; it didn't even hurt. Plus, Mom would have told him if it was going to. Better yet, he should've just been able to do it himself.

Sunny thought back to the folded clothes in his wardrobe.

‘When do you think about others? How long are you going to let people take care of you? You say you care but you're a liar. You've never done anything for anyone else.

‘You're useless… less than useless.

‘You're sick.’

Mom smiled at him before bending down and reaching for something on the ground. Meanwhile, Sunny turned his hand over to inspect his palm, to see where the pain had come from.

There was a thin line straight across the middle of it, the abutting skin red and inflamed. Did he cut his hand on something? Same with his headache, the cut decided to start throbbing in pain only when he noticed it.

Mom rose back to her feet, and Sunny quickly hid his palm. He only realized he must have dropped the eyepatch when Mom handed it to him. He took it from her and tried to will himself to stop shaking. Mom gently put two hands to the sides of his head to pull him toward her before pressing her lips to the top of his head.

Sunny stayed silent and put the eyepatch on when she let him go. The patch didn't keep his eye closed, but it helped remind him to keep it closed himself. With it, he felt like he wasn't straining his muscles as hard. He was crestfallen that he couldn't find the one he was wearing before. Maybe it was best he didn't, though. Wasn't he supposed to replace them after a while? Sunny gingerly scratched at his cheek under where the patch sat.

“Y’know, Hero called not long before you woke up.” Mom called back to him as she walked back to the fridge. Sunny's eye widened and his lips parted in surprise.

“He said that their family has been thinking of us.”

Oh.

That was nice of him to say, even if he didn't mean it. Hero has always been too kind. Stuff like that always came as naturally as breathing to him. He really was so amazing…

Sunny missed him…

… He hoped that he was doing okay after Sunny told them the truth that day. He remembered what Kel had told him, about how Hero had been after losing Mari.

“If only you'd woken up just an hour earlier. It sounded like they really wanted to talk to you!”

There’s no way that was true, but it was still sweet of them to say. Sunny stamped out any hope that may have been growing within him. He was done deluding himself. He wouldn't allow himself to live in a comforting dream anymore. He didn't even deserve it. And a comforting reality wasn't possible—

“Kel especially.”

‘Hanging out with everyone is nice and all, but it just isn't the same without… without you there too…’

Kel… That's right, last night, he—

Kel left a voicemail on their new number last night. He'd stayed up until his family was asleep to send it. And he had been crying…

Sunny couldn't wrap his head around why Kel had cried over him. Or why he seemed to care so much, even after learning about what he'd done. Did he not understand? He must not. If he did, he wouldn't care about Sunny, right? He'd hate him, like he should. Sunny's lower lip wobbled. Like he should…

Why doesn't he? No, Kel surely understood what Sunny had done. At least enough to know what reaching out to him meant. Kel may be dense at times, but Sunny knows he isn't stupid. He never has been. And, unlike Hero, Kel wouldn’t reach out in secret and give his best wishes just to be polite—just because it's what's expected of him. Kel does what he wants to do, not what everyone else wants him to. If Kel didn't want to, he wouldn't reach out to him. Sunny knew that.

But he's afraid. That if Kel understands, maybe he doesn't understand well enough. Maybe once he realizes how horrible Sunny really is, he'll…

‘Your friends are wrong about you. The person they love isn't you at all.’

“Speaking of Hero, didn't he cook for you all when you were younger? I remember how often you would go next door for breakfast,” Mom laughed. “It seemed like eggs were a staple on the Hero Menu; would you like some for breakfast today? Of course, I may not make them exactly like he does, but it's an idea. I don't want you to not eat.”

Sunny hesitated, but Mom was looking at him with a worried expression again. And eggs seemed like a safe option. They'd probably be easy on his stomach. Hopefully. His stomach growled again as if to agree, and he pressed a hand to it to stifle the sound. He nodded in answer to Mom’s question, and her face practically lit up.

“Alright! Let's see if your mom can stand up to Chef Hero himself!” Mom flexed her arm and cupped her bicep with her other hand in a show of faux confidence. As she set out to retrieve the needed ingredients, Sunny relaxed a bit. He could see that she was trying to cheer him up. He appreciated her trying. In the end, he really hoped he could keep down what she cooked for him…

Still seated at the table, Sunny organized and put away the contents of the first aid kit. He then stood up and, thinking for a moment, slowly made his way back to the kitchen counter to watch his Mom cook. Maybe if he watched, it would help him keep his appetite. He didn't know what else to do, anyway.

Mom said nothing as he leaned against the counter and eyed her movements, though she glanced at him with a small smile. Sunny stayed out of her way, moving whenever she needed to open a cabinet he was blocking before returning to his post.

It was only when he glanced over at the knife block did his mind wander back to last night. Sunny stared at it. But no matter how long he stared, the missing knife did not spontaneously reappear within the slot it had been removed from.

He took the knife out of there last night, didn't he? Sunny furrowed his brows and continued his staring contest with the knife block. That sounded familiar, but why did he…?

‘People like you don't deserve to—’

‘You should just—’

Oh…

Right.

Last night, he was going to…

But Omori appeared.

Omori took the knife from him, and then Sunny couldn't remember anything. Of course, Omori hadn't actually been here, he's not real. He wasn't real. Sunny had hallucinated that Omori took the knife from him, not that that made sense.

But did he pass out? If he did, Mom must have been the one to put him to bed. But she didn't seem concerned. If he had been passed out in the hallway upstairs, he's sure she would've asked about it by now. That wasn’t normal, even for him.

Maybe he got into bed by himself, half-awake? Okay… But then where did he put the knife?

“Oh! I was wondering what you were staring at. One of the knives is missing…” Sunny didn't notice when she came over, but Mom was suddenly standing over him with a hand to her chin. She continued, “Did we forget to unpack them all? That's odd, I could've sworn…”

Sunny felt bad. But he didn't answer her. He'd just have to find it later. If he left to go look for it now, she'd end up asking why he'd taken it…

Mom shook her head slightly. “Oh, well. It's a good thing we don't need a knife like that for eggs, right, Sun— Oh.” Mom pulled open one of the drawers and then paused with a noise of surprise. Sunny lifted his head in her direction. When she pulled her hand out, it held the not-so-missing knife in question.

She looked at him for a moment. Sunny looked back at her with a slightly widened eye. Mom suddenly giggled.

“Sunny, did you put this in the drawer by accident last night? The holder isn't far from the drawer, you know.” Mom's voice was light as she replaced the knife in its rightful spot within the knife block. Sunny stared at it.

Even with a reminder, he couldn't recall doing that… Fear born from confusion crawled its way into his stomach, and suddenly Sunny wasn't sure he was going to be able to eat the eggs Mom was making for him. It didn't make sense. Sunny's memory couldn't fail him like this. Not after he finally stopped making himself forget so much. Did suppressing things for so long do irreparable damage to his brain? Sunny swallowed, his throat felt too dry all of a sudden.

Was it his time at the hospital? Could his eye injury— was it too close to his brain? Maybe, he— His friends always praised him for it, so his memory was one of the few things he felt he could almost pride himself on. What else did he need to disappoint them with? What else about him were they wrong about? Why couldn't he remember what happened last night? He wasn't trying to forget— What if he forgets even more? What if—

“Sweetie, are you alright? What's wrong?”

Mom was kneeling in front of him. Sunny only realized he had crumpled to the floor when her crouching figure still towered over him. His trembling hands clutched at the handle of a drawer. Mom’s voice sounded worried and alarmed, but Sunny couldn't raise his head to look at her. Nausea combined with hunger in his stomach, and Sunny slapped a hand over his mouth. He shot to his feet and nearly tripped over Mom in his rush to the sink. He'd prefer the toilet, but there's no way he would've reached it in time. Better the sink than the floor.

His ears burned with shame in tandem with his throat. His hands gripped the edge of the sink’s basin and tears pricked his eye. With each heave, his headache worsened. The pressure in his head was unbearable. He barely registered the cold hands on his forehead keeping his hair out of his face and away from his mouth.

Sunny’s vision swam as he opened his eye. When he finally stopped heaving, tears dripped from his face into the mess he'd made. His peripheral vision caught a hand snaking its way around him to turn the faucet on. He smelled more than saw that everything was washed away by running water as the subtle scent of freshly cooked eggs slowly replaced the sickening smell of bile. But the taste in his mouth alone ruined his appetite.

Gentle hands prodded him into turning to the side. He felt much too drained to resist them and leaned into the cold hands pressed to his forehead, even as the bump there protested. The hands didn't stay there long, and Sunny felt the chill move to his cheeks as they cupped and cradled his head. He felt like collapsing into them. Though, he'd probably feel like collapsing even if they weren't there. It took Sunny a moment to realize a voice was speaking to him.

“Honey, you have a fever…! Have you felt sick since you woke up? Why didn't you say anything?” Mom scolded him, but she sounded more sad than angry. A fever? Was that why her hands felt so nice? Sunny wanted to apologize, to explain that he hadn't felt so sick earlier. That he didn't think he could eat the eggs after all. A more childish part of him wanted to ask her to be home more often. But his eye was closing, and soon all he could think about was how amazing not being awake would be.

“Sunny! Are you—!?”

Are you-

…

Are you…

Waiting for something to happen…?

With a jolt, Sunny shot up into a sitting position. He came face to face with black fur and white whiskers.

Mewo calmly stared at him from her spot on his lap. Sunny idly thought that he was glad she hadn’t been on his chest, since she probably would've gone flying. But then his mind caught up to his thoughts and what exactly he was staring at.

As he'd expected, lifting his head brought nothing but an endless expanse of white into his vision.

Sunny was in White Space.

As has always come with his visits here, a listlessness and numbness tugged at him. But the racing of his heart kept his mind clear. He wasn't supposed to be here. He wasn't allowed to run away from his thoughts anymore, not like this. Sunny lifted Mewo from his lap and placed her gently atop the blanket. She quickly curled up and wrapped her tail around herself. She gave one last calm glance up at Sunny before dozing off to sleep again. Sunny fought the familiar urge to curl up beside her and do the same, instead pushing himself to his feet.

He took a look around. The lightbulb was still missing from the string hanging from the ceiling, wherever it was. Shards of glass lay underneath, glittering with the reflection of a light source he couldn't find. Sunny was careful not to step on them. He didn't need to cut his foot when his head was already…

Actually, his head wasn't hurting anymore. He brought a hand up to check for the lump on his forehead, but flinched when his fingers brushed across cloth instead. He was still wearing his eyepatch, but the bandage his mom put on his forehead wasn't there.

His head no longer hurt, but his eye was still missing. Sunny wondered why one injury was fixed when he woke up in White Space, but not the other.

Was it because the eye thing was more serious? Or because he knew it would be permanent?

Sunny pondered to himself silently as he turned around, meaning to check the sketchbook, at a loss for what to do otherwise. But a sudden presence beside him startled him. He'd almost bumped his head straight into it. His missing eye gave him a large blind spot, so all he’d caught sight of was a large swath of black. Sunny flung himself away from it, right onto the jagged fragments of the destroyed lightbulb.

Or he would have, if not for the tight grip on his arm. His legs were left bent uncomfortably and his torso twisted awkwardly toward the ground as the entire weight of his body hung solely from the powerful grasp. Sunny fearfully whipped his head around to see what had grabbed him. His heart nearly shot into his throat when his eye locked with a familiar pair of expressionless ones. Unfortunately, Sunny was much too weak to hold this position for long, and his legs gave out. He braced himself and tried to throw his free arm down to catch himself, but Omori’s already bruising grip only tightened before he pulled Sunny roughly forward.

Sunny's heart leapt into his throat as he lost his balance again, now in the other direction. Unable to get his legs under him in time, he tripped on them, sending him tumbling forward. Sunny turned his head to the left and clenched his eyelids shut. He felt Omori’s grip leave his arm and a pressure appeared on his back instead, but before he could register what was happening, pain exploded behind his eyepatch. His head had slammed right into Omori, and he'd tilted his head away just to give the perfect opening to his empty socket.

Overcome by pain and terror, Sunny cried out, pushing away from Omori with all the strength he could muster. The pressure did not leave his back, however, and Sunny realized that Omori was restraining him, keeping him in place. Sunny fought harder to escape, but Omori ignored his frenzied movements and began to drag him. Sunny felt his knees slip across the white blanket and could do nothing as Omori seized both of his wrists with one hand to more efficiently wrench him away to who knows where.

But just as quickly as he had grabbed him and pulled, Omori let go. Sunny fell onto his side roughly, let go in the middle of trying to pull away. Unable to bring himself to a stand, he scrambled to put space between himself and Omori as quickly as he could.

His own panicked breathing sounded in his ears, and Sunny blinked through tears to fearfully eye Omori. Sunny's right hand shakily covered his eyepatch as he struggled to get air into his lungs. His socket throbbed in pain with his heartbeat, which was so fast, he was beginning to feel lightheaded.

Why did Omori attack him just now? Why was he in White Space?

Sunny clambered to his feet, still breathing too fast. He willed himself to calm down, but his body wouldn't listen. He tried to catch his breath, but his lungs only fought harder to suck in air. The back of his neck tingled, and his skin felt clammy and cold. He may have been shaking, but he couldn't tear enough focus away from the threat in front of him to make sure. Sunny’s eye darted quickly down to Omori’s hands. They were bare and hung limply at the boy’s sides. Sunny quickly met Omori’s gaze again and brought his own hands in front of his chest defensively.

Sunny was too afraid to look away, but Omori’s cold gaze was seeping under his skin, threatening to rip him open and pull him apart.

‘All you'll do is make things worse. It would be better to just die.

‘It would be better to just die.’

Omori’s voice echoed in his ears, distorted and hateful. Sunny let out a sob. He couldn't fight Omori again. He'd nearly lost the first time, and his violin was nowhere to be seen.

Omori’s gaze terrified him, but Sunny couldn't look away— he couldn’t afford to look away. The second he did, Omori would attack him again. The only thing Sunny heard was his own breathing, growing more distant by the second. His sight blackened at the edges and his patch grew damp with fresh tears, or maybe sweat. Sunny couldn't think straight, his legs wouldn't cooperate, his throat hurt, his head hurt, he wished he hadn't woken up in White Space, he wished he hadn't woken up at the hospital, he wished Omori would just stop STARING at him—

And then Omori dropped to the floor, bending his knees and bringing them to his chin before he wrapped pale arms around them. He locked his eyes with Sunny's one last time before turning his face downward, his bangs lifting slightly and parting to settle over his knees. And then he sat there, unmoving. Sunny remained tense, bracing himself. For what, he didn't know.

Sunny coughed once and swallowed dryly. His throat felt cold and scratchy. He swiped a hand across his face to wipe his tears away, only daring to do so since he wouldn't be able to see through them if he didn't. A brief wave of terror seized him again during the short moment, but when Sunny whipped his head back up, Omori hadn't moved an inch from where he’d sat down.

Seconds, minutes passed before Sunny began to calm down. He still trembled, but fatigue pulled at him, the adrenaline taking a toll on his body. Sunny pulled his shirt up to wipe at his face again. His eyepatch was damp and more uncomfortable than usual. He felt the urge to scratch at the string clasped under his ear. His shirt clung to his torso, and Sunny absently, stupidly, wondered if he could take a shower in his dreams.

When Sunny's breathing evened out to only slightly faster than normal, he let go of the front of his shirt, not realizing he hadn't let go after wiping his face. Still wary, some tension left his body. With his thoughts no longer crowded by it, the fear in Sunny's expression gave way to some confusion.

Omori really hadn't moved so much as a muscle since he'd sat down. Sunny risked a glance away from him and caught sight of the white door, standing where it always has. The laptop, also in the same spot as always, was closed, the top of its lid smooth and reflective. Sunny blinked. The sketchbook and box of tissues were sitting on top of the laptop. A shiny knife—Omori’s knife—was placed neatly to the right of the laptop.

Sunny then realized that Omori had pulled him straight across from where the lightbulb was to the other side of the blanket. It looked like, when he let go, Sunny almost fell right where Mewo usually—

Sunny sucked in a breath and quickly took two steps forward away from the corner of the blanket behind him and craned his neck to look for the small, black kitten. Just in time to see her calmly walking away. He really had almost stepped right on her.

But Sunny had no time to feel relieved, as she pranced right up to the source of his anxiety and butted her head against its leg.

When Mewo made contact with Omori, Sunny could see the boy’s hand twitch. For a horrifying moment, Sunny thought about an operating table. When Omori shifted his head to the side to peek at Mewo, Sunny shifted toward the knife sitting by the laptop. Sunny didn't know whether he wanted to grab the knife or throw it further away from them, but before he could decide, Omori’s eyes slid over to meet Sunny's. Then he ducked his head away again and curled up further.

He was starting to look ridiculous. Sunny thought it was safe to say this wasn't some new attack of his, but he'd be lying if he said he was 100% sure.

Being ignored didn't deter Mewo from continuing to seek Omori's attention. She let out a drawn out meow and attempted to push her head into where Omori’s face was hidden. As Sunny stared, bewildered, Omori fell onto his side, locked in the same position he'd been sitting in, teetering in place for a moment before falling still again. Now with his back to Sunny, Omori remained akin to a statue. Did Mewo just push him over? Omori let himself be pushed over… by a cat…?

Mewo jumped up onto Omori's side. Omori finally released his limbs from the position he'd locked them into, but did so slowly. Mewo jumped down to Omori's front, disappearing from Sunny's sight behind a black tank top. After a moment, Sunny saw Omori's arm move slightly in a rhythmic, repetitive motion.

Was he trying to show Sunny that he meant no harm…?

Memories of cutting blades and pale skin mottled with splotches of creeping black and oozing red flashed in Sunny's mind. Eyes that stared into his soul and picked at every scab of grief and regret, threatening to bleed Sunny out from the inside. Echoes of every self-hateful thought he'd ever had about himself were flung his way, roaring in his ears and drowning him in an inescapable sense of malaise.

Sunny didn't dare approach Omori.

His gaze locked back onto the monochrome figure as Omori rolled over onto his stomach and looked at the knife. Sunny didn't LIKE that he was looking at the knife, OR that he had rolled over. Sunny took another step toward it. If nothing else, he'd feel safer if it wasn't Omori that had it. Omori stopped moving and held Sunny's gaze once more, peeking up at him from above the arms cushioning his head. The distance between them and the fact that Omori still wasn't standing were the only things that kept Sunny from panicking again.

Sunny startled when a blur of red brushed past his leg. His breath stuttered in his throat as he watched the red hand that passed by him float toward Omori. It was holding something. Sunny barely had time to pray that it wasn't the knife before it set the object down in front of Omori.

It was the sketchbook. Sunny took a glance behind him at the knife still lying next to the laptop. The tissue box was toppled over now, laying sideways on the blanket.

Omori had sent a red hand to fetch the sketchbook, not the knife.

…

Why was Omori acting like this? Why was Omori acting like anything? He was just… a mask Sunny had worn for almost four years. A vessel he made to protect himself from the nightmares that seeped into his dreams. A version of himself that wasn't afraid, that wasn't weak, that wouldn't succumb to all the things Sunny couldn't handle. And sometimes, he was a guardian whose job it was to protect Sunny from the truth at all costs.

But now, not only did Sunny not understand what Omori was thinking, he didn't know why Omori was still around at all. Sunny remembered the truth and chose to do so himself. No matter how much he sometimes wanted to, he wouldn't go back on that choice. There was no longer a truth to protect him from, to keep hidden. There was no reason for Omori to be here. So why was he?

A sudden feeling of helplessness welled up in Sunny's chest. His face scrunched up as he fought the urge to cry once more. He was tired of not understanding what was happening. Nothing made sense to him right now, and there was no one he could ask for answers. Even his own memory was failing him. He wanted to leave White Space and go to sleep normally. He wanted to—

A series of three quick taps interrupted his thoughts. When he looked up, Omori was sitting cross-legged and holding up the sketchbook with one hand. He let go of the red colored pencil he must've tapped on the floor with, and brought his other hand up to present the opened sketchbook to Sunny more pointedly. The sketchbook was opened to a page that was blank aside from a freshly scrawled word:

“Sunny”

His name was written in smaller letters, so Sunny had a hard time reading it at first. He only knew it was his name since he could read the S and recognized the shape of the word itself. Sunny didn't move from where he stood, looking between his name, written in red pencil, and Omori's face. His expression was as blank as ever and gave away nothing. After a moment, Omori brought the sketchbook back into his lap and picked up the red pencil again. His bangs fell over his face as he looked down to continue writing.

Sunny simply watched him, an unhappy emotion making itself home in his chest. He'd stopped shaking, but he still wanted to be anywhere but here. Sunny listened to Omori scratch away at the pages in the sketchbook. At times, Sunny heard the pencil roughly and quickly scrape across the paper, like Omori was crossing something out. His eyes never left the book. Watching him made Sunny want to sit down as well, despite himself.

Mewo left Omori’s side and padded over to Sunny. She brushed past his legs a few times before Sunny sent another look to Omori, who remained unwaveringly focused on his task of writing whatever it was he was trying to write in the sketchbook. Looks like she finally gave up on getting any more attention from him.

Sunny crouched down to pet Mewo. She purred and tilted her head to give him the best angle possible for maximum ear scritches. Her loud purring lulled Sunny into a comfortable almost-silence, and he spaced out a bit, thinking about nothing in particular.

As soon as he began to feel the beginnings of drowsiness, Mewo bristled under his hand, her fur standing on end. She glared up at him and hissed loudly. Sunny quickly moved his hand away from her. What had he done to make her so angry that she hissed at him? She'd never done that before…

But with a jolt, Sunny realized that it wasn't him she was hissing at. A large shadow was cast over the both of them. Fear crept up Sunny's back as he felt a presence behind him. The sudden sound of papers whipping through the air hit his ears, followed by a thud and the tiny rattle of a thin piece of wood hitting the floor. Sunny looked up. Omori had rushed to his feet, and something red entered his peripheral vision. Hot air puffed against the back of Sunny's head, jostling a few strands of his hair. Fast but heavy footfalls sounded from in front of him. Sunny's eye shot down to Mewo, and he all but threw himself over her, not sure who exactly he was trying to protect her from anymore. Maybe he was just trying to comfort himself by holding her in his arms.

Just as he braced himself for some kind of attack, something snagged the back of his shirt and tugged him roughly forward. With a gasp, Sunny desperately tried to adjust Mewo in his grasp so that he wouldn't fall on her. He twisted his body and fell hard on his shoulder. The blanket did little to cushion his head as he hit the ground. As he turned to finally look at what had been behind him, his vision was filled with the sight of Omori's back.

Omori stood in front of him with a hand thrown protectively behind him. His right arm was pointed forwards as if he were pointing his knife at something, though Sunny couldn't actually see it from the angle he was at. He didn't dare look toward the laptop to check if the knife was missing; his eye was glued to the outline of something horrible.

Something black and wriggling shambled in place in front of Omori. Sunny could only see the edges of it peeking around Omori’s figure. It looked humanoid, yet inhuman. Its arms were too long, and the single eye it held seemed to be melting, the white of its sclera dripping down its face like tears.

Sunny heard a choked noise that sounded like a sob and a scream both at once. It gurgled out and shifted into a whine that keened upwards into static. Mewo squirmed in his grasp. Sunny's breath stuttered over a sudden grief that filled his lungs, and he hacked out a cough, startled.

Omori turned his head and locked a charcoal eye onto Sunny, his bangs messily framing his face. Sunny barely noticed, his full attention held by the nightmarish figure in front of them. He curled up and pressed himself closer to the floor, trying in vain to see less of the creature, but Omori's small frame offered little cover. Sunny's breathing grew shallow, and suddenly that feeling of sadness shot up into his throat. Gasping and wheezing, Sunny's mind screamed at him to bring more air into his lungs. He scratched and pulled at his throat in an aimless attempt, not understanding what was preventing him from breathing properly.

Omori turned his head away and shot forward, using the full weight of his body to ram into the creature with his shoulder. On impact, it let out a choked wheeze that sounded much like Sunny did at the moment, but did not topple over. However, Omori didn't even waste a glance to check if it had fallen, instead twisting on his heel and throwing himself to his knees in front of Sunny. Sunny finally looked away from the creature, with his eye still squinted in pain, to Omori.

Omori leaned forward and firmly wrapped his arms around Sunny's shoulders, lifting him from the ground slightly. Omori's legs were positioned to avoid crushing Mewo, who had fallen to Sunny's lap when he'd brought his hands to his throat.

Sunny tensed and tried to lift a trembling arm to push him away, but a sudden weightlessness took hold of him. It may have been muscle memory reacting to the familiar action, but Sunny lifted his hand—not to push Omori away, but to clutch onto the back of his shirt as tightly as he could. Sunny may have imagined that Omori tightened his hold for a second, but then his thoughts were lost, along with all feeling in his body. The brightness of White Space faded in his vision. The last thing he saw before succumbing to sleep was the black creature pressing one of its limbs to Omori’s shoulder, looking more like a proper hand than it had since it had appeared.

Sunny's eye slipped closed, and he finally disappeared from White Space.