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There was a body, there. At the bottom of the well.
Once, during the lazy days of summer right after their mother died, Kou had burned his hand when cooking. He was still so young, so small, and trying so hard to make up for the gaping wound left behind. The recklessness of his attempt to fill the void had left a long angry mark on his hand.
Teru, perfect in so many ways, had felt the grip of panic.
If there was one weakness he had, it was his brother and sister. The fake mask of bright confidence fell away the second either where involved. And seeing his little brother cradling his hand to his chest, eyes shiny with tears he refused to cry, had left a memory he wouldn’t forget. He’d grabbed him and guided him to the bathroom, sarcastic jokes said around his still present smile. He’d hoped beyond anything Kou hadn’t noticed the tremble in his body, or the unevenness of the bandages.
There was Kou, there. At the bottom of the well.
The moment his brother took interest in number seven, he knew the trouble it would bring. Kou’s talk of a girl he maybe had a crush on, and a spirit he swore he was going to exorcise, spoke of an ill fated future. Kou was rough and loud, and yet so soft. A bleeding heart which wouldn’t survive in the world of the supernatural. To hold out his hand and offer help only spoke of one ending.
He could imagine it, in every interaction. Each glimpse he’d caught of Kou, the way he interacted with all the supernaturals in the school, spoke of it. For all Teru’s warnings, for all his cruel words, it had only propelled Kou further into this world in order to prove his ideals to him. Teru had wanted to shake him multiple times. Yell that he knew this world better than Kou could ever dream of. There was no room for kindness for those who would put you in a grave.
There was a grave, there. At the bottom of the well.
Teru fell to his knees, soundless. This was one world of many. In another time, Kou had still survived. In another time, Teru would have another chance to save his brother. The faint joy of his mother’s survival in this world was eclipsed by a corpse imprinted on his mind. There was always going to be this ending, here. For one miracle to occur, another tragedy must take its place. For his mother to live, Kou would have to die.
To choose a universe, meant to choose one. With his eyes closed, body hollowed out into dust, he thought of that first wound. The bubbling of flesh and Kou’s gritted teeth to not cry over his hand. The determination to be the sort of boy who didn’t cry over anything, and who would inevitably fail in the long run. He could still smell the singed flesh, could still remember how cramped the bathroom was. Kou promising he would do better, a determined set to his face, and Teru only nodding along.
In this universe, his brother would never grow up.
His mother would raise him and their sister, but whose to say she wouldn’t pass of a broken heart this time? Teru thought, for a second, that he understood. In the face of the feelings of the people around him—Nene’s determination, Kou’s will, Akane’s love—he’d never understood how a heart could guide them stronger than their mind. Logic was Teru’s way, and it was what he swore he would always follow.
But now?
There was his brother, there. At the bottom of the well.
And he would do anything to have him back.