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There are warnings, engulfed in incomprehensible compassion, in old man blue’s voice when he talks to him. Eh, Shun would rather have him act rude and genuinely horrible, you know? It’d be easier than having someone who cares so much about a bunch of pathetic orphans.
“You should be kinder to your friends.”
“They’re not my friends. I can’t stand those kids.”
“Shun, if you continue to beat up your roommates it’s going to look bad for everyone—including me.”
“And what about it? Why would it be my problem?”
The thing is, old man blue is worn out, like the itchy clothes they get from mothers whose kids have outgrown them. Glasses pushed back up, Aoshima lets out a sigh. Here he goes again, so keen on continuing a conversation Shun would rather avoid, his foot kicking at the wall in front of him in a repetitive manner.
“Then you’ll be alone, and, at some point, there is no going back from that sort of loneliness. Is it truly what you want for your future?”
“Once I’m a ranger—”
“Shun, rangers work together, it’s the whole point of the organization.”
“I know that.”
How do you go back on what you just said without the other person noticing? Urg, if he had any idea, he wouldn’t be stuck in another lecture. It doesn’t matter, does it? Whatever he manages to say, it’ll come out wrong, akin to the cutting words soon turned punches he tossed at the three boys sharing his room until they begged to be moved to another one after another—good riddance. Shun didn’t need them, or anyone for that matter.
A hand hovers his shoulder, and yet he refuses to look away from the wall; old man blue and his tired eyes capable of making you feel like shit within a couple of seconds. How he loathes this, foot nudging at the wood until it slightly creaks.
“As you are now, you’d make a terrible leader, and an even worse teammate.”
“It’s not fair.” All those pointless things—pretending to care when people come over to adopt only the babies and younger kids, not sparing anyone else a glance, having to study as good grades are important yet they have their own school inside the orphanage as it’s better if they don’t put a stain on normal children by simply sharing a classroom with them—if he had the strength to kick through the wooden wall, he wouldn’t even hesitate. He’d let the cold air get in and kill all of these whiny babies overnight! “When they insult me I have to be the bigger person, but when I attack first, it’s suddenly my fault? Which kind of messed up justice is that?”
(“Eh, isn’t Tokita creepy?” “Yeah, no his blank face makes me want to kill myself, it’s so bad, man.” “Totally! He looks like a zombie.” “That’s why he wears that stupid skull shirt, doesn’t he?” “Don’t talk about that, it looks so shitty! He even wears it under his winter clothes—” “Do you think he even put it in the laundry pile?” “No way, that’s why no one wanna be his friend, he probably stinks.” “Gross!”)
“Regarding the other boys, that might be true. However, what’s your excuse for being so mean to Sesera?”
“Urg, I thought that damn speech of yours was because no one wanna share a room with me anymore, why is it suddenly about that girl? She pisses me off, that’s all. Like everyone else.”
Perhaps she’s even worse than the rest.
Clinging to that kind of unattainable hope—it revolts him, somehow.
“That seems to be a recurring problem with you, isn’t it? Getting so angry out of nowhere,” the hand against itchy polyester tugs him back, without harm (although the old man could easily use brute force and toss him out of a window), “you blame Sesera for sticking to a goal she cannot achieve, yet you’re as obtuse and stubborn when it comes to your own life.”
“Tsk. Me and her, we’re not the same. At all.”
“Oh, really? When I think about it, I only see two kids with big dreams and a refusal to give up.”
“She—she won’t achieve anything!” That stupid Sesera and her stupid little brother who is so small yet so willing to fight for her sake—Shun has none of that, and that’s for the best. He doesn’t want to be slowed down by whatever friends are supposed to be. Having to look back all the time, isn’t that the worst? At first you do it to help, and then you grow paranoid and protective, and he really can’t stand the idea of falling behind due to someone else. “You keep telling her to give up, and yet she—I hate her. I hate her brother. I hate everything about them. I hate the boys you want me to be friends with too. All they do is say I’m weird and not normal—that my face and voice are wrong, and my clothes too, although I didn’t choose any of those things! I hate how when I hurt people it’s my fault, but when they do the same to me, everyone is looking away because I don’t matter and never will.” Unless he becomes a ranger, or even a Keeper, and then he’ll be loved, adored even. Or so the story goes, he supposes.
One knee now on the floor, the old man now stares at him as if there was anything worthy of attention in Shun’s bones.
“Ah, those feelings of yours, you should let them out more often.”
“So people can make fun of me? Like you’re probably doing?” He throws his foot back, ready to kick without thinking, to let that constant rage take over just so the moment will shatter, alongside that semblance of affection he has for that man.
“Put that foot down.”
Startled by the sudden change of tone, the sternness of it, Shun hesitates, sole soon back onto the floor.
“That’s better. I’m not mocking you. I’m merely trying to have an honest conversation although it’s always a painful thing, isn’t it, to open up about what’s going on inside your heart? Bothersome too, I’m sure. You don’t have to give up on your pride for the sake of peace, and if these kids attack you, you’re free to defend yourself. However, stop starting the fights yourself. You’re almost eleven, aren’t you? That’s the age where you should be setting a proper example, rather than kicking and punching your way through boredom mindlessly.”
Rolling his eyes, lips pursed together as to keep an unfortunate ‘no way’ from coming out and ruining everything, Shun can’t quite argue with that. He would like to, just for the gist of being terrible and thus vindicated in his little ‘no one likes me’ mindset. Alas.
“Fine. I don’t wanna share my room ever again though, I don’t care if I have to sleep in a closet or something. Just don’t put those assholes back with me.” The orphanage has rooms of three or four, bunk beds on each side of the small space, or a single bed on one if you’re lucky.
Ten going on eleven isn’t a great age to share a bedroom with a bunch of pricks. Once he’s an adult, it’ll be different. Surely, by then, dumbasses will grow a brain and once he’s a proper ranger, surely his own room is bound to follow.
“Oh well, there are a couple of spare rooms still available for now.” Until more children have nowhere to go, ending up driven there by social workers who won’t even look back or check on them ever again, “so you can keep your room. As long as you clean it by yourself and maintain it properly.”
“I’m getting the top bunk,” is what Shun replies, “and don’t worry, I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing so for a while, after all.” He shrugs, shoulders slumping awkwardly as old man blue’s hand pats his sweatshirt, as if to congratulate him for something.
“As you wish. No more fighting though. You promise?”
Hell no.
“Yeah, yeah, sure.”
Anyway, it’s not like the director knew about everything going on around there.
“Great. Now stop kicking the wall and do your homework, I’ve heard you got a terrible grade on your latest geography test, Shun.”
Or maybe he does.
“Not my fault if there are so many countries to fucking remember…”
“Hm?”
“I didn’t say anything. Can I go—study now?” He’s going to move all his stuff inside the room to make it perfect. Like, his Red Keeper poster right next to his new bunk, the stickers he got from a magazine on the metal bars—it’s gonna look sick.
“Go forth, kid, no one is stopping you.”
Surely, Aoshima is aware he isn’t going to actually do his homework. Yet, the guy lets him go without questioning Shun’s newfound interest. As he’s walking away, the boy stops in his tracks (that’s what you shouldn’t do! Looking back means you care, it makes you weak!), casting a glance at the adult slowly getting back up.
There is something on his face that Shun cannot describe; it feels like the snow slowly melting outside, leaving only weary concrete underneath somehow. Like the moment between Winter and Spring everything is stuck in the same endless exhausting routine, yet there is nothing to keep you going.
Impulsively, Shun snaps his gaze forward instead, fists clenched inside the sleeves of his sweatshirt. “Thank you for everything!” And then he runs up the stairs, skipping as many steps as possible, not wanting to see that stupid kind smile nor hear a potential reply.
✦✦✦
“Absolutely not. Go back where you came from,” is all Shun manages to utter through gritted teeth.
Nonetheless, standing in the doorframe, holding his pillow as one would do with a stuffed toy, Hibiki doesn’t vanish. Even worse, he takes a step in.
Shun doesn’t trust that tiny bundle of—whatever is wrong with those siblings, to be honest. One minute you’re bullying them, the next that baby is trying to punch you in the fucking face.
“I don’t like you either.”
“Great, now that you’ve said that, leave.”
It’s been a shitty day, not going to lie. The heating system has died without a warning, and Aoshima is somewhere trying to fix that shitshow, while they’ve been given spare blankets and instructions to sleep with socks on and all that stuff. It’s not the first time it has happened, although usually the temperature drop isn’t that brutal—but then, the weather has been nothing but loud wind and rain looking on the verge of turning into snow. The little kids downstairs have been bawling their eyes out, from what he’s heard, in spite of wearing cheap headphones he ‘borrowed’ from someone who left them without supervision in the communal space.
The wind is howling louder than their voices though.
Gathering his courage by clenching small fists around his starry pillowcase, Hibiki doesn’t falter.
“They put all the smaller kids together in the big playroom.”
Urg, he’ll avoid that area then. Makes sense though, they probably turned on electric heaters so the babies would be safe, and the older kids have gotten blankets and the assumption they can manage. As usual.
“So, why aren’t you with them?”
“I’m seven.”
“And?”
“I’m one of the big kids.”
Oh no.
Shun can see exactly where this is going. There was a shortage of temporary beds in the playroom, thus they sent the older babies into the wild. Aka upstairs. In his territory.
“Go pester your sister then?”
(Although he isn’t fond of Sesera, and will never be, thank you very much, Shun has to admit he’d be offended on her behalf if they tossed her with the infants for this.
Like, her legs don’t work, sure. It doesn’t warrant putting her with the younger kids when she’s a teenager. In fact, if they have done so, he hopes she rolls over tiny hands with her wheelchair—)
“She’s on the girls’ side,” Hibiki says, lips forming a small pout, “I’m too old to go there.”
“Eh, it sucks to be you.”
“Mr. Aoshima said I could stay with you tonight.”
“Sucks to be me actually.”
The thing is, Shun could slam the door in his face, using all his weight to stop Hibiki from slithering in akin to an unwanted pest. What good would it do, and it’s not like the kid is moving in permanently, right? It’s only a single night of unpaid babysitting.
(The other children avoid him, calling him a blank faced zombie who turns into rage when you’re too close, and he’s grateful for that.
After all, they know their place.)
“You shouldn’t cuss in front of me.”
“Or what? You’re gonna rat me out?”
“I would tell big sis.”
“Woah,” he says, deadpans, “what a threat. Get it and close the door already, before you let the cold in.”
That stupid kid isn’t even wearing socks—like that time where he ran straight for Shun, body slamming into him without a second thought—how tiresome that brat is. Still, as Hibiki makes his way inside, pillow slowly slipping off his grasp as he lets out a yawn, Shun lacks the energy to return the favor by tossing a random object at his face.
The freezing and humid water is turning his bones into something heavy and, to be honest, moving is a fucking chore. He unplugs his headphones from the media player he was using, tossing everything in a corner of the mattress. Does he have to jump down? Of course, how else would he scare Hibiki?
Not that the brat seems super impressed, those expressive eyes clouded by a need for sleep. Shit, he doesn’t have bedsheets or anything for the remaining beds. What’s the point, since he doesn’t use them? Staring at the ceiling in exhausted annoyance, Shun contemplates telling Hibiki to use the rug as some kind of bed covers, alongside a spare blanket.
The old man would definitely revoke his bedroom privileges if he did that shit, wouldn’t he?
“You can have that bottom bunk,” he gestures at the one opposite of his own, as he doesn’t want Hibiki in his space, “just don’t annoy me.”
“The older boys say you attacked them in their sleep.”
Those assholes. Of course they’d say that stuff.
“Totally did, yep. That was funny.”
There is that sliver of hope that the words will be enough to cause Hibiki to run from the room.
As if.
“You’re mean.”
He gives a one shoulder shrug, walking to the wobbly wardrobe in which he stores his stuff, the metallic doors creaking as he opens them. No spare bed sheets there either. Why this?
“Big sis says you lack—emotion and control.”
“Emotional control, you mean?”
One hand gripping metal, Shun turns around in a swift move, wondering since when Sesera is allowed to have an opinion of him when she’s the messed up one in the first place.
“Yes, that!”
He hates their eyes.
They’re creepy, or rather full of something he can’t quite explain.
When they look at him, it feels like they’re peeling his brain like an orange, and he’d rather punch himself in the face than deal with any of that.
“She talks shit a lot, for someone with only half of a functional body, that sister of yours.”
“Hey!” And here they go, that pillow lifted akin to a weapon, as if he could do much damage. “Don’t insult my family!”
“Or what, you’ll kick my ass? I’m soooo scared.”
Truth be told, Hibiki is kinda like the sun, you know? Very bright, his smiles illuminating everything in his way, melting hearts and all that stuff. And then you have the burning part, the one constantly on fire, that needs for a justice which is long overdue. Shun would rather not dwell on any of that, since when does he care so much about the siblings anyway?
(Sesera would be the moon then? Always there, refusing to be erased, fighting for recognition although no one notices her? Or, maybe like a star? Yeah, stars are pretty from afar, but then you get closer it’s like a bunch of explosive and damaged stuff.
Would that make Him the moon though?
No, he isn’t part of that equation, stop it!)
As he steps forward, closing the meager distance between the child and him, the light above them flickers.
All at once, it goes off, and so does the whole building, Shun supposes, hearing distressed sounds down the hallway, a mix of shouts and crying—seriously, it’s nothing impressive. Power outages are bound to happen, and if they can’t even deal with that, maybe some of those brats should realize they’re simply pathetic.
“Oh.”
“Oh,” he imitates Hibiki’ small voice, “you didn’t bring a flashlight or something, did you?”
“No. You have one, Shun?”
“Eh, why are you addressing me so casually all the time—” He rubs the back of his neck, nails rasping against shaved hair, “nope, don’t have one either. Don’t tell me you’re scared of the dark?”
“I’m not! And I’m not scared of you either. You’re not good, but you aren’t frightening at all.”
“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”
“I don’t know, sometimes you’re difficult to talk with. Can we find some candles? There must be some in the janitor’s closet or the storage room. Oh, it’d be an adventure!”
So easily side-tracked.
The thing is, the kid’s idea has some merit.
Shun would rather die than admit it.
“The priority is kinda to find bed sheets for you, but I guess we could make a detour and get that stuff.” Technically they’re not allowed candles in their room, nor lighters or anything of such a dangerous nature. Does Shun care? Not really. “And why aren’t you wearing socks? Like the floor is fucking freezing.”
“Didn’t have the time to grab any when they told us to go downstairs. And that’s fine, I’m tough.”
Using two fingers, Shun pokes him in the forehead, or at least the part of Hibiki he can distinguish in the darkness. As the body almost wobbles backward, he feels comforted in his judgment. “You’re a baby who is gonna freeze to death and cry about it.” The pillow presses against his stomach as he towers over that tiny bundle of peach hair and terrifying eyes. “I should punch you.”
“Then do it.”
“Tsk. Toss the pillow somewhere and we can get going. Not that I wanna go on any kind of fun and forbidden trip with you, but if I leave you there you’re gonna go through my stuff, and I don’t trust you.”
“Is there anyone you trust, Shun?”
“No, case closed.”
He moves back, his shoulder brushing against the metal shelves of the closet, quickly turning around to rummage through stuff he can barely see—at least there is some light from the street, so they’re not in total darkness, although it’s close, finding a pair of mismatched socks (they count as a pair because he says so). How easy it’d be to throw those in Hibiki’s face—he loosely drops them on his head instead, hearing a small strangled noise in return.
“Work on your emotions and control!”
“It’s emotional control, and I’m great at that, fuck off.”
✦✦✦
“The adults are the invaders, we must avoid them or else the mission fails, you get it?”
Crouching in a corner of the hallway, Hibiki perched above him with both hands on Shun’ shoulders, awaiting the right moment to strike. Finding bed sheets took five minutes, they just had to walk inside the laundry room and grab whatever had been folded yet not put away yet. After throwing them back into the room, they moved onto the next part of their invisible checklist: getting snacks.
Was it part of the deal? Nope.
However, picture the large kitchen left without any supervision, all the available delicacies stocked in the pantry? How could they pass that opportunity?
“Roger!”
“Shh, not so loud.”
The socks he lended to Hibiki keep on causing him to slip, and he rolled the cuffs until they stayed more or less in place. Still, that’s not an excuse to fail that impromptu mission.
A shame the enemy is roaming the place in the form of adults holding flashlights and herding the occasional lost toddler who wandered away.
Honestly, it wouldn’t be challenging to simply use Hibiki as bait, filling his pockets with chocolate and other stuff while the boy would be scolded without having a chance to defend himself.
And lose on two hands perfectly capable of holding candy? Nah, it’d be a waste.
Tiptoeing behind him, Hibiki lets out an excited chuckle.
“We’re the heroes saving the snacks from being eaten by the evil invaders.”
“You get it!”
Manipulating a young child is a piece of cake, he would do it more often if the rest wasn’t so wary of him.
“So, that’s how we do it. We walk into the kitchen, and we immediately duck behind the island counter as not to be seen. If we hear footsteps, we can’t move—”
“Once the invader goes away, we grab everything we want.”
“Yeah, exactly. If we’re caught, though, you have to run back to our room as fast as you can, if they catch you, you’re dead.” Like our parents , he almost adds.
Okay, not the thing you should say out loud.
Anyway, why is Hibiki even sticking with him?
Like, out of everyone at the orphanage, surely Shun isn’t the one you’d want to befriend.
Come to think of it, the siblings seem to be content hanging with each other the most, not finding much space for the other kids either. Ah, he supposes it’s what happens when you have family left, not that he would know what it is like.
“Now, go, go!”
The large playroom is quite far from the kitchen and the refectory next to it—yet, they can’t take any chance. Which is why Shun walks as fast as he can, Hibiki right behind him.
There is a thrill in doing forbidden stuff—and it’s only wrong if you get caught, to Shun. Otherwise it makes you a fucking genius, or something.
As they slip inside the kitchen, wooden cupboards having seen better days, and decayed linoleum peeled off in the corners, he immediately ducks behind the island counter, dragging the kid down with him.
Rather than charging straight into the pantry, they should take a moment to access their surroundings, ensuring no adult is going to ruin their grand plan.
“Which kind of candy do we want?”
“Everything we can get,” he replies, feeling the thrill of mischief in his body, “if you tug on your shirt, you can make an improvised pocket to store even more stuff, so do that once we’re inside, kay? Let’s go.”
It’s not like they’re given sweets a lot anyway.
Most of the time they have to wait for special occasions, such as birthdays, or holidays—it’s not fair. Being stuck in that decrepit building that old man blue keeps on endlessly trying to fix with the help of the other old guy (Shougo would Not appreciate being called that but what else is he? They’re both so old, like any adult is to be honest) ain’t fair either.
The pantry’s freezers are oddly silent, and Shun knows better than to open them and fuck with whatever is stored inside. There is a big difference between taking whatever he wants and ruining everyone’s meals for a solid week. While they don’t have a flashlight (anyway that’d be too risky during a stealth mission), he remembers where everything is from memory, often enjoying slipping in to grab something to eat.
It’s just that eating dinner with these loud idiots—kinda hard to have a proper appetite when you’re aware you’re gonna sit alone.
“Look, look!” Plastic creaks underneath Hibiki’s hands, and he recognizes individually packaged dorayaki, “Big sis loves those.”
With a frown, Shun ignores that part, as it’s not like he intends on sharing it with that girl. “Good find.”
Country Ma’am cookies? Neat. Caramel corn? That’s going to be sticky and annoying, but it’s so tasty—Shun has managed to use his sweatshirt to hold five different items when the dreaded footsteps resonate through the kitchen. “Shit—”
He barely has time to dive in the small space between two freezers, dragging Hibiki down with him. Most of their hoard falls around them, although it is as hidden as they are in their tight hideout. Except for a lone bag of mushroom shaped chocolates lying right on the concrete floor of the pantry—as if he was going to lose so easily!
Using his foot, Shun slams his heel against plastic, dragging the item closer as fast as he could. He can’t even reach for it with his hands, not when Hibiki is basically sitting between his legs, hands over his mouth to stay silent.
“Is there anyone there? You can come out, I’m not mad.”
Ah, he recognizes that voice. It’s Mrs. Azuma, one of the ladies who works with the younger kids.
The package is still not quite safe from the flashlight now roaming on the floor, slowly creeping closer, and he’s running out of time.
Is it the time to sacrifice Hibiki, pushing him forward so Shun can escape unscathed? He considers it, an arm wrapped around the kid’ shoulders, their bodies tense against each other.
Out of nowhere, though, a small hand reaches for the bag of chocolates, putting it to safety seconds before the flashlight illuminates the spot where it was.
“Oh my, must have been the wind.” Foolishly, she doesn’t bother to do a thorough search. As expected from a mere invader! “I sure need a break.”
As soon as she’s gone, Shun’s back slumps against the wall, exhaling softly. “That was so close, I thought we would get killed. You saved me there, thanks Hibiki.”
No, why did he say that out loud?!
The words came out so fast, he didn’t even register them until he’s staring down at that grinning devil of a child.
(What’s scarier, having eyes so full of life and color they seem almost inhuman, or something dark and blank which gives you an impression of nothingness?
He wouldn’t know, nor that he gives a damn.)
“See, you can be nice, when you want to.”
“Shut up! Let’s head back up before we get caught for real.”
“Mission successful!”
“Not yet.”
“We did great! We showed those invaders they can’t hoard snacks away from starving children.”
“Yeah, we kinda did that,” he admits, finding a certain thrill in their little impromptu ranger training, “we’re cool.”
That foolish grin—ah, it’s kind of contagious, although Shun isn’t one for that sort of facial expression usually. He isn’t sure how to feel anything except apathy, and the occasional rage. How to curl his lips without making his gums hurt and his chest heavy. Nonetheless, as Hibiki and him climb back the stairs, the child being so careful with each step, as to not drop the snacks he’s holding, Shun doesn’t quite have that impression of being nothing but an empty shell.
For once.
It could almost be a great night where they’re heroes.
And then, Hibiki has to knock on doors, distributing half of the booty to random guys that Shun can’t stand!
And for what!
“They might be hungry too!”
“Who cares?!” Damn, he basically has to drag the kid back before he messes up the whole thing. Now these morons are well aware they went downstairs to steal! They’re going to use that against them later. “What are you looking at, fuckers?”
The opened doors slowly close one after another, and Tokita glares at the bewildered child by his side. “What if they go around telling the invaders who took that stuff?”
“But—why would they side with the enemy?”
“Because they’re stupid civilians! They don’t know any better. Only the heroes can make big decisions. If you do that again, you’ll be kicked out of the ranger force.”
“No way! I don’t want that!”
“Then you have to follow the rules of the game. Tsk. I’m older so I’m your superior, you have to do as I say.”
“Absolutely not,” a stern voice resonates behind them, “Ranger rank isn’t based on age, merely on power. And Hibiki is stronger than you.”
“Big sis!”
Here she is, that menace of a girl.
Slowly but surely rolling forward in that whacky hospital wheelchair Aoshima has promised to replace as soon as possible, moonlight glowing against metal, a thin layer of sweat sticking to her forehead—Shun pouts.
“He isn’t.”
“I am!”
“Will you guys shut up already?” Someone shouts from behind a closed door, and he’s left staring at the boy already dropping all his hard-earned snacks on his sister’s lap while she is trying to catch her breath.
Why isn’t she in bed, anyway?
“I heard they put Hibiki with you, so I came to check up on him.” Okay, makes sense.
“That’s a no girl zone,” he mumbles, aware that he can’t really fault her for checking on her baby brother. He’d like to do so nonetheless, “and we’re doing great, as you can see.”
“We went on a secret mission to steal from the invaders! And then one almost caught us! And then we had to hide, and then—I saved the day.” Hibiki proudly announces, as if Sesera wasn’t going to put the clues together and discover that Shun used her innocent brother to commit a crime.
“Is that so?” As she speaks, voice low, her gaze refuses to leave Shun—he’s the one who has to stare at his feet instead, wondering how unlucky he must be to be stuck with both of them rather than only Hibiki. “And what’s the next part of your plan?”
“We’re going to eat it all!”
“It’s too late for sweets. You don’t even have your toothbrush with you.”
“Stop killing the mood, you can have some of those if you want—” Not that he wants her to actually hang around. Once Sesera and Hibiki are together though, it’s hard to separate them, they’re that unstoppable unit, something he can’t quite comprehend. “And I didn’t force him to do anything, he was eager to help.”
“So you admit taking advantage of him?”
“He’s my junior! I simply gave him an assignment!”
While they’re trapped into what looks like an endless argument, they hear the unmistakable sound of plastic being ripped open, followed by Hibiki shoving a whole cookie in his mouth at once.
Just like that.
“Ah, I suppose it’s fine, tonight is special after all,” and he wonders how tired Sesera is for not scolding both of them further. That’s on her for deciding to go on a joyride though, he doesn’t want to care. “Let’s retreat to your room before we get caught. I’d rather not endure the adults throwing a fit.”
“Yeah, me neither.” Finally something they can agree on.
“Those are so good!” Hibiki says, crumbs falling out of his open mouth. Gross.
✦✦✦
So, rather than being besieged by one rambunctious child, Shun is now trapped with said brat and his sister. He should have known that she wouldn’t have the energy to go back as soon as she propped herself onto an unused mattress, hands shaking as she exhaled softly.
Begrudgingly, as Hibiki started making piles of candy on the aged rug beneath him, Shun slammed the door behind him, embarking on another endless quest. If that were up to him, the Sakuramas would be as far as possible from his quaint bedroom decorated with the little ranger merch he gets from cheap magazines.
“She’s gonna want the full set, that annoying girl.” He has to climb onto metallic shelves to retrieve another set of bed sheets and a freshly cleaned pillow. It occurs to Shun, as his foot slips off the railing and metal rasps at the skin underneath socks, that she might have some sort of medical bed. And not the cheap bunk beds everyone else is stuck with.
Is it okay for her to sleep on something like that? To be honest, if it isn’t, that’s on her for being so fucking protective of her loser brother. As he makes his way back, holding everything against his chest until he can feel his heartbeat ringing inside his ears, Shun can’t wait the day to be over already.
It’s cold, and while not unbearable, his body is starting to feel sluggish, the adventure from earlier nothing more than a past memory he’s already burying alongside everything else.
“I’m back.”
He slides the door closed with his foot, dropping the pillow, bed sheets, and extra blanket right on top of Hibiki, earning a shriek from the kid whose mouth is covered in melted chocolate.
Sesera’s phone is in her hands and while it’s nothing grand, it has a flashlight which allows Shun to aim perfectly while trying to suffocate her younger brother.
There is something in her glare, as if she was still gathering every piece of her mangled body, not quite rage although not so far from it.
“Don’t bully him, even if that’s all you know how to do.”
“That’s not bullying—he’s eating my stuff, and I want some of it before it’s all gone!”
What would they even know about what it's like to live among their peers when they were stuck into that fanatic debacle Aoshima called a cult for years?
“I’m fine! See!” And here he is, emerging from the pile, holding his hands up to avoid putting chocolate and sticky sugar onto the fresh laundry. “Shun isn’t that bad. We fought the invaders together!”
“Yeah, listen to the brat. We were an impressive team tonight.” Anyway, Shun doesn’t care about Sesera’s gloomy opinion on everything. He crosses his legs as he sits down on the rug, retrieving the bag of Caramel corn and digging his hand inside to get as many as possible in one go. “And I went to get you stuff to sleep there, so.”
For a moment, as Sesera fidgets with the phone she’s holding, he wonders if she intends on shining the light directly in his eyes. Instead, she simply says: “I’m not forgetting what you did.”
“If you hurt her again, I’ll destroy you,” Hibiki adds, as if he wasn’t a whole head shorter than Shun, “and then—”
“Oh lil’ Hibiki is so scary.” Shun crushes caramel corn between his molars, where a pesky baby tooth still refuses to fall off, “and I don’t care if you don’t forgive me, it’d be stupid if you did anyway.”
“For someone so keen on admitting you dislike everyone, you’re an oddly welcoming host,” Sesera replies, and she still hasn’t touched anything they brought back, even when Hibiki holds a bag of chocolate up so she can have her share, “I truly don’t get you.”
(There is an unopened dorayaki resting on her wheelchair, as a treat for tomorrow, and isn’t it that stupid? What if they die tonight, or the treat goes bad due to the humidity? She should indulge into eating it, rather than keeping it for later.)
He shrugs, as he doesn’t wish for her to do so in the first place, throwing his head back to make the corn stuck at the bottom of the package fall into his mouth. One piece hits him right on the nose, and he lets out an indignant sound. “Fuck.”
“Don’t swear in front of Hibiki.”
“Fuck,” the child repeats, as to gauge their reaction, something warm in those vibrant eyes.
“Banned from becoming a ranger forever.”
“But—sis, Shun said it first!” Hibiki’s expression falls, as if he was in real trouble.
“Well, I suppose Shun is also banned from the rangers for setting a bad example, then.”
“She’s lying! You can say whatever you want once you’re one.” As Sesera’s gaze burns his cheeks, Shun finds himself quickly adding: “however, you’re just a junior right now, so swearing is off limits to you.”
While self-preservation usually isn’t his thing, he’d rather not start an argument right now. It’s late, he’s tired, they are all to be honest. And more importantly, he doesn’t want to learn what it feels like to get a phone thrown at his face.
Hibiki registers the words like any kid would. By immediately switching his attention back to snacks, mumbling to himself he’s gonna be such a cool ranger one day. Maybe even a Keeper.
As if.
Shun and Sesera share a glance, her bangs still glued to her forehead from her physical effort from earlier, and him trying to wipe caramel off his lips with the back of a hand. And, for the first time, he gets it. Kinda.
They don’t want Hibiki to become a ranger, not him, that sparkling kid with a big heart—he’d get reduced into nothing. Being a hero is rough, and, truth be told, it’d be nothing short of a miracle if one out of the three managed to achieve that goal.
Getting recruited is one thing, sure, but climbing the ranks until you’re on television every Sunday? Totally different level.
“You haven’t eaten anything.”
“I brushed my teeth already.”
“Who cares?” He scoots closer, grabbing whatever he can get his hands on, which is a ripped off bag of cookies, tossing it onto her lap without even bothering to look at the crumbs she has to brush off her pants with one hand. “Just have fun for once.”
“Like you pretending you don’t want us out of your room already?” She asks, lowering her voice so Hibiki doesn’t pay attention to them. “You’re not enjoying yourself very much either.”
“I am,” he isn’t sure why the words blast out of his mouth, twisting his lips into something uncomfortable. He isn’t great at smiling, or any of that stuff—apathetic monster, or so he’s been called, distant and uncaring. Is it his fault if his heart has long burned out, leaving charred remains he can only poke at when he’s bored, attempting to stir up what’s left of the fire? “The mission wasn’t too bad, and you’re here now, so I can’t toss you out, the wheelchair is way heavier than what I can lift. And the snacks are enough for me to tolerate this.”
Tomorrow they’ll be rivals again, won’t they?
Ah, nope.
He doesn’t want that girl to be his rival! She can’t outrun him, can’t even fight back—how boring is that?!
And Hibiki is a baby, no matter how violent he can be when defending his precious sister.
It’s not fair, how they have each other—Shun has no one at all, and you don’t hear him whine all the time about that shit.
“Suit yourself. Here,” he glances above his shoulder, back against the side of the bed, as Sesera breaks a cookie in two, offering him half of it. “It’s the last one, and Hibiki has gotten enough sugar in his system for the evening.”
“Oh, thanks.” Sheepishly, he shoves it in his mouth just so he doesn’t have to pursue that weird conversation.
Perhaps they should do something about the kid before he eats his own weight in candy—would have been worse hadn’t he given some of their treasure to random guys living on that floor, honestly.
“We weren’t allowed that kind of thing before. Our parents were on the stricter side in that regard,” she supplies, as to justify why she isn’t putting an end to this, “if he gets sick, that’ll simply teach him his body has a limit. If not—” Sesera lets out a small sigh, teeth gnawing on her half of the cookie. “He’ll learn that lesson another time, I suppose. For now, I’m willing to let him enjoy that temporary happiness.”
“It’s kind of fun watching him get so excited over that stuff…”
“I suppose it is, his joy is contagious, isn’t it? Don’t make yourself sick either, Shun.”
“Oi, I’m almost eleven, not seven like that brat!” He throws his head back, sticking his tongue out, and, for a second, the corners of Sesera’s lips almost curl into a smile.
✦✦✦
Born to be a cool ranger, forced to make beds for unwanted guests instead. Hibiki went to use the bathroom and wash his hands, coming back with a huge yawn which probably would have dislocated old man blue’s jaw if he had done the same. As the child was slowly dozing off, Shun had to do everything, from tossing away the trash to an unpleasant fight with the fitted sheets which shouldn’t be called that way if you need to squish the mattress for them to be on properly.
To be fair, he didn’t do everything by himself. Sesera moved onto the floor to sort the remaining snacks so they could be tossed into an empty drawer (Shun would have pushed everything under the bed instead, as that’s quicker, not that he was in the mood to squabble), and then took care of her brother, wishing him good night and tucking him in by pressing her ribcage against the side of the bed to keep her balance while sitting on folded legs.
By the time he returns back from the bathroom, he finds the room silent, the flashlight from Sesera’s phone turned off. Apparently she managed to climb in the bed under his own without trouble, which is great as he isn’t keen on doing anything other than getting on the top bunk and passing out right now.
“I’ll become a ranger, just so you know.”
He doesn’t have enough time to tuck the blankets under his chin that he hears Sesera’s voice. Apparently not asleep as he thought. Having to keep the socks on sucks. It’s not how things should be—when will the power return so they don’t wake up like a bunch of ice cubes stuck together in a corner of the freezer?
(“When I think about it, I only see two kids with big dreams and a refusal to give up.”)
“Yeah, as if you could.”
She needs a good reality check, right?
Someone who pushes herself so hard she is stuck in a permanent exhausted state, how can she have that sort of impossible dream?!
“I’ll do it. No matter what it takes.”
“So, what’s your grand plan?”
“I’ll join the Pink Battalion. That’s the only one I have a chance with. I might not become the Pink Keeper, but most of their work isn’t quite rushing in and killing invaders, so I could do it.”
Oh. So, she’s been, like, genuinely considering this. Shun huffs, as that’s an appropriate answer to that kind of foolish plan.
“They might never be able to fix my legs, which is fine. I mean, it’s not. I hate this, I hate that I can’t protect Hibiki as I should currently. However, I will figure out a way to keep him safe no matter what. You have dreams of being a Keeper on television one day, don’t you?”
“Of course! Who wouldn't?”
“I’d rather be in the shadows. To ensure everything goes well, and I don’t require empty praise to do so, as long as I can still do this for my brother. His smile is enough for me.”
His hands are cold, and presses them against his chest, curling onto himself to conserve a semblance of warmth. Is it what he has been after, shallow praise from strangers? Yeah, and what about it?! What’s so wrong about wanting recognition, to be remembered by everyone?
“Liar.”
“You aren’t liste—”
“Nah, you’re totally lying. You wanna be the Pink Keeper so bad. Like, that’s the ultimate thing you could do for Hibiki’s happiness, so you wouldn’t hesitate to do everything to get that position. You can say ‘ah, I thought about it, but I wanna play it safe’ as much as you can, I don’t believe you!”
He doesn’t want to join the Pink Battalion, they don’t get any of the action, that’s lame—they’re important though, like every battalion is compulsory so things go well. He isn’t exactly sure of how it works yet, but he should seriously look into it, especially if Sesera intends on stealing the show and becoming a ranger, and even a Keeper, before him—urg, now it sounds like he’s okay with her stupid idea.
“You can’t half-ass the whole ranger thing. If you wanna go for it, then give it everything you have, aim to become your faction’s Keeper—that’s what I’m gonna do.”
The words come out one after another, and he makes no effort to stop them, animated by a familiar kind of rage.
“A Keeper who can’t walk and another who can’t smile, that doesn’t sound promising, just so you know.”
“Shut up, I can smile—sometimes.”
“You’re often expressionless unless you’re filled with anger, that would scare little children.”
“And your fucking legs are so ugly that the costume would be necessary to avoid brats running from you in tears!”
There is a heavy silence, the kind where they’re both bracing for the argument to turn ugly, yet too exhausted to actually do anything about it.
“Do the adults even understand anything about us? Are they willing to try? I sure don’t get you,” Sesera’s voice turns sharper, “all we do is complain and antagonize each other. In the end, it’s only Hibiki and I, since the beginning.”
“Fuck them. And fuck you for wanting to do things for Hibiki so much you forget to do them for yourself too. Like, you’re a person, just not his sister.”
“Hey,” it’s a soft reply, something raspy as the cold air invades her lungs while she inhales, “as I said, you don’t understand me in the slightest.”
“I have no intention to!” Ignoring commonsense, Shun pushes the covers off his body, layers piling over his legs. Ah, at least his are still working, unlike hers. Somehow, that doesn’t bring any kind of comfort. “you’re going to fail, but you’re still gonna try, right? Just like you force yourself to push your legs beyond what they can handle. You’re gonna endure, again and again! Because you’re a stupid person and I can’t stand you—and, after all this shit, we’re gonna end up on a battlefield together, and it’ll be stupid because—because we can’t have a normal life no matter how hard we work. Because we’re stuck being the pitiful orphans the adults can’t do anything for. So, nah, I don’t wanna comprehend your messed up brain, I couldn’t care less!”
Where is he even going with that, he has no idea. The words feel like frozen shards of ice on his tongue, and he wanna burn everything down so they don’t spend the night awkwardly trying to stay in place to keep whatever warmth is still around the building.
“You should give up, and you won’t. So, at least, do it for yourself or something. Don’t say it’s only for Hibiki’s future. What about yours, tsk. Don’t you wanna matter too?”
Isn’t it what they crave more than anything; that longing for a semblance of recognition, the inherent joy of being seen as valuable, rather than some broken toy tossed in a landfill?
“Ah, you’re oddly passionate tonight. Turns out you’re capable of that even when you’re not bullying me.”
“Oi.”
He curls his fingers around the metallic railing on the side of the top bunk, and, abruptly, pushes his upper body forward, hanging precariously in an upside down position, just so he can glare at the girl who shouldn’t be there in the first place.
She stares back, the bright light from the street running against the side of her face, almost akin to the hand of a loving mother long gone. Not that Shun would know about what it feels like to be loved.
He has no use for parents, not when he’s gonna be eleven in a couple of weeks.
He’s closer to adulthood than to being a baby, so that counts for something.
Anyway, her parents were in a cult, therefore they were, without a doubt, shitheads.
“I’ll be the Red Keeper one day, just so you know.”
For a moment, as Sesera sits up by pushing on her elbows, she seems on the verge of running away (as if she could), the weight of the conversation causing her bones to be heavier than they should be.
“I used to be a runner. I was really proud of myself for that—so when I lost my parents, and with my only dream forever gone, I thought—that there wasn’t a point in living any longer.”
Shun’s legs press against the mattress, until he’s rolling over the railing rather than simply hanging out. His feet collide with the decayed rug covered in years of children running over it without care. He shouldn’t do that sort of trick in the dark, he gets it. It’s simply that he couldn’t care less.
“You have Hibiki, don’t you?”
“Yes. He’s the only—”
“I’d never forgive you, if you died. Like, if you gave up on that pitiful life of yours, I’d be mad forever.”
“Eh?”
Isn’t there a better way to do this, rather than him sitting on the edge of a bed which isn’t hers in the first place, allowing Sesera to only see his back, for his stupid blank face is probably not as devoid of emotion as people say it is.
“You’re alive, and it sucks for you, with your legs, and your dead parents—who cares if you can’t run, you still have your fists if you wanna fight? Cry like a baby until you’re empty of that dumb weight. No one is coming back for you and me anyway. Just don’t destroy what’s left of yourself—what’s Hibiki gonna do if they burn your body too? Who will take care of him? Not me, for sure. Only losers give up and die, and you’re not one of them, right?”
His sentences sure feel disjointed.
Shun should be the last person to comfort someone. His absent heart is barely enough to hold that kind of weight, and he lacks the empathy he never learned. Still, the thought of Sesera’s body burning in a casket, the smell of charred remains once you pass the bones with metal chopsticks from one person to another—he never wants to go through that again.
There is a small bump against his shoulder, and he blinks something wet away from his eyelids as he realizes it’s a closed fist.
It lingers against the back of his shirt, and then it goes away, only to press against his shoulder a second time.
“Still weak.”
“Shut up, Tokita Shun.” The third attempt causes something to jolt in his bones, a ripple which climbs up his jaw. Good. “I’m not giving up, nor dying any time soon.”
“Then act like it, Sakurama Sesera.”
It’s easy to forget how young they are, how the fist banging against his shoulder is nowhere as bad as what he has done, how they’re fumbling through everything so awkwardly, trying their best to keep on going. The adults can’t have the satisfaction of watching them fall apart, that’s all.
“You’re as stubborn as I am, aren’t you?”
“Yeah. I’ll be the Red Keeper before you even join the Pink Battalion.”
“In your dreams.”
“Wanna bet?”
And there is more this childish rivalry he’s building out of thin air, isn’t it? Ah, since when does he care about the Sakuramas? He doesn’t—everybody else is simply dumb, unlike these two. They’re insufferable, and also a little bit funny and interesting. Disgusting!
“Sure. Let’s race to see who can become a Keeper first,” he hears the implicit words she keeps to herself, although he doesn’t quite understand them fully, “and go back to bed, you’re going to catch a cold, Shun.”
“I’m not a little kid! You’re only two years older.” As he turns his body around, using both hands for support on the mattress, he realizes she’s been crying a bit—ah, he doesn’t want to see any of that. “Your punches suck, you better start training properly if you wanna be able to fight by my side one day.”
Wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her pajamas, Sesera gathers herself back without any need for a hug or anything equally embarrassing.
“I’m still doing it for Hibiki, just so you know. And myself.”
“You better not forget that last part!” As they glare at each other, not quite friends, yet not enemies either, Shun decides that’s the best outcome for that sort of conversation. “I’ll race you to the top, and I’mma win this.”
“Keep telling yourself that, Shun.” She offers a hand, the same clenched one who collided with his shoulder not long before, and he grabs it, holding it with as much strength as possible.
“Just wait! I’ll show you.”
Rather than keeping their hands into a simple horizontal shake, Sesera lifts both of them, returning the hand hug with all the energy she has left. Ah, it’s like those rivals on television—in those stupid shows the little kids babble about. Kinda lame.
It’s fine, though, since it’s Sesera.
After all, out of everyone in that shitty place, she’s the only one who has dreams as big as his own. Just like Aoshima said.
“The race is on. Don’t disappoint me.”
“That’s my line.”
For a moment, as Hibiki gently snores in the background, they’re more than the forgotten orphans, victims of the cruelty of the invaders. They’re future heroes, the ones who won’t give up no matter what. And it must be enough. It has to be.
When Sesera’s hand starts to shake, definitely from exhaustion, he finally lets go, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, a faint blush over his cheeks.
“Your skin’s cold.”
“That’s due to the lack of heating, and yours is too. Tuck yourself back in so you don’t catch a pesky cold,” she nudges him off the bed, and he begrudgingly cooperates, climbing back into the top bunk, “good night, Shun.”
“Night, Sesera.”
Tomorrow, he can go back to being an asshole, right?
He ain’t suddenly their best buddy and he doesn’t intend on having Hibiki pestering him at any given time—it’s fine if they wanna hang out sometimes though. Like, only when he’s in the mood and all.
Old man blue isn’t that wrong about him needing friends, Shun supposes.
As he attempts to protect as much of his body with the covers as possible, he wonders what it would be like, to have siblings, for one person to wish to dedicate their life to him.
It’d be a pain, for sure.
He doesn’t need that added stress, or someone who would fuss over him as if he was still a child.
Shun is fine on his own, and he’ll always be.