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Chapter Text

(From Whumptober) Day One - Alternative Prompt: "I Hear You're Still Alive, How Disappointing."

Fandom: TBHK

Main Characters: Amane, Tsukasa, and Mrs. Yugi

Word Count: 2,754

Summary: Fed up with the way her family is, Mama Yugi devises a plan to make everything go back to normal. Unfortunately for Amane, that plan might just cost him his life. 

Trigger Warnings: Child death, major character death, drowning, suffocating, poisoning, and filicide. 

* This one is more based on the vibe of the quote. I’m sorry for how many TBHK oneshots I wrote for this month. I didn’t originally plan on it, but the last few chapters + the anime inspired me. Forgive me <33

-x-x-x-

(posted for day two) Alternative Prompt #4: Chronic condition

Fandom: TBHK

Main Characters: Amane and Tsukasa

Word Count: 1,278

Summary: Tsukasa sings to Amane while he’s sick. 

Trigger Warnings: Implied child neglect and a child being terminally ill.

-x-x-x-

Day Five: Torture

Fandom: TBHK

Main Characters: Tsukasa and Hanako

Word Count: 1,082

Summary: Hanako and Tsukasa reminisce about the past. 

Trigger Warnings Child abuse/neglect, domestic violence, and implied/referenced murder.

-x-x-x-

Day Six: Self-inflicted injury

Fandom: TBHK

Main Characters: Amane

Word Count: 1,288

Summary: All Amane wants to do is wash some dishes. Too bad his brother refuses to help. 

Trigger Warnings: Canonical character(s) death, blood, self-harm, and implied/referenced suicide. 

-x-x-x-

Day Eight: Adrenaline  

Fandom: TBHK

Main Characters: Tsukasa, Teru, and Amane

Word Count: 1,296

Summary: Teru takes revenge against a much younger Hanako. Tsukasa tries to stop him. 

Trigger Warnings: Blood, child abuse, head injuries, and implied child death. 

-x-x-x-

Day Nine:

“You asked for this.”

Fandom: TBHK

Main Characters: Amane, Tsukasa, and Mama Yugi

Word Count: 1,011

Summary: Mama Yugi beats Amane.

Trigger Warnings: Child abuse, beatings, and childhood trauma.

-x-x-x-

Day Nine - Whumptober - "Hold My Hand."

Fandom: TBHK

Main Characters: Amane and Tsukasa

Word Count: 1,021

Summary: Amane and Tsukasa comfort each other while their parents argue. 

Trigger Warnings: Implied/referenced domestic violence, threats against children, and children in distress. 

-x-x-x-

Day Ten: Blood Poisoning

Main Characters: Amane, Tsukasa, Sakura, and Natsuhiko

Word Count: 551

Summary: Cursed to die in his sickly three-year-old body, Amane lays on a cot in the broadcasting club. Until someone decides he’s too much of a liability and takes matters into their own hands. 

Trigger Warnings: Child death, implied/referenced murder, poisoning, and terminal illnesses. 

(This story makes very little sense. The best way I can describe Amane’s condition is he was cursed to feel like he’s alive and he can even eat and touch things, but he’s still a supernatural. He’s just not a wonder and is only “alive” because the “God” is tormenting him). 

I took the prompt a little too literally.

-x-x-x-

Day Twelve: Dizziness + “Don’t pass out on me.”

Fandom: TBHK

Main Characters: Tsukasa, Amane, Mr. Tsuchigomori, and Mrs. Yugi.

Word Count: 1,473

Summary: A stomachache turns out to be so much more for Amane. 

Trigger Warnings: Child abuse, beatings, emetophobia, neglect, and blood.

-x-x-x-

Day Sixteen: Leashed

Fandom: TBHK

Main Characters: Amane and Tsukasa

Word Count: 1,290

Summary: Amane and Tsukasa are tied together as punishment. 

Trigger Warnings: Child abuse, guilt, corporal punishment (mentioned), and neglect. 

• Instead of a literal leash, it’s ropes.

-x-x-x-

Day Twenty: After it's over

Fandom: TBHK

Main Characters: Amane, Tsukasa, and Grandma Minamoto and her brother. 

Word Count: 1,076

Summary: Following a rough day at school, Tsukasa checks on his brother. Too bad Amane’s stubborn.

Trigger Warnings: bullying

-x-x-x-

Day Twenty-three: Obsession

Fandom: Toilet-Bound Hanako-Kun

Main Characters: The Entity, Amane, and Tsukasa

Word Count: 1,043

Summary: Amane and Tsukasa are more entangled with the Entity than they could possibly know. 

Trigger Warnings: child abuse, implied/referenced murder, and canonical violence/death.

-x-x-x-

Day Twenty-six: “This should teach you to behave next time.” (continuation of day nine). 

Fandom: TBHK

Main Characters: The Yugi family. 

Word Count: 1,295

Summary: Tsukasa knows he has to do something about his brother’s abuse, so he does. 

Trigger Warnings: Murder, child abuse, beatings, and enabling behavior.

-x-x-x-

Chapter Text

Hikari Yugi is many things. Once a bright student with many prospects if not for the era, a dutiful wife, and above all else, a doting mother to her two boys.

 At least, she was at one point. 

Before Amane got miraculously cured and her youngest went missing, Hikari’s time was filled with caring for her sick son, cooking, cleaning, and indulging Tsukasa (just a little) with extra baked goods and tight hugs to make up for his brother’s continued absence. 

She’s always been a naturally intuitive person, but figuring out where everything went wrong is above her skillset. She’s tried time and time again to ascertain exactly what caused her family’s slow slide into insanity. 

At one point, Hikari would’ve thought Tsukasa was to blame. It was his reappearance that triggered her paranoia after all, but the more she thought about it, the more it didn’t feel like the answer. 

No, if she had to pinpoint the exact cause of it all; the problem; the catalyst, it would be Amane’s sudden recovery.   

In retrospect, it’s so easy to see how drastically things changed the day he got better. A part of her - the same part of her that wants to believe Tsukasa hasn’t been replaced - feels guilty for thinking such things, but more and more, she finds herself coming back to it. 

Amane came out of her womb, silent and blue. The midwife at first thought the umbilical cord got wrapped around his throat, but that hadn’t been the case. Only later, well after her second son was born, crying out and perfectly healthy in every single way, did they learn of his heart and lung condition. 

The midwife thought it kinder to let Amane pass, rather than putting him through what she called “unnecessary” pain. But Hikari refused. She wanted both her boys to live, not just one. Her optimism held strong all the way up until his third birthday when the village doctor started looking a little more grim every time he came to see Amane. 

She had thought, naively, that if only she cared for him a little harder, kept him alive for a while longer, pushed the doctors just a little bit more, then maybe, just maybe, Amane would live a full life. 

He got worse, and mixed with the doctor’s solemn prognosis, her optimism waned under the strain of it all. By his third birthday, her little boy was too weak to leave his bed.   

Tsukasa did his best to keep his brother’s spirits up, though he had no idea the severity of Amane’s illness. He just thought his brother had a really bad flu. 

She started having to keep the boys apart so Amane could rest. Neither of them liked this, and on more than one occasion, Tsukasa broke containment in the living room or backyard to see his brother. 

It broke her heart having to keep them separated, even though the doctor told her to. But sometimes being a mom is making hard decisions your kids don’t agree with. 

Hikari hadn’t understood why she had been blessed with two little angels, but fate wanted to take one away. 

She understands this - her son suddenly being perfectly healthy like his brother - even less. But she decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

Her baby was healthy and that was all that mattered to her, but now…..

It’s all his fault! 

She decides this after a particularly bad argument with her husband. Their boys sit silently, picking at their breakfast, heads bowed because neither of them like it when their parents fight. 

Tsukasa leaves first, slipping from his seat and taking care of his bowl. He’s out the front door before she can tell him to stay put. She turns on Amane, staring him down. The irritation she feels from being cast aside and ignored by her own husband hasn’t diminished in the slightest. 

He eats slowly, head still somewhat bowed to avoid her icy stare. When he turns his head to the side, Hikari gets a full view of the yellowish bruise on his cheek. It’s stark against his skin. A constant reminder of her own rapid descent into (what feels like) madness. 

This is his fault, she thinks, half-crazed because why won’t anyone listen to her? If only he had died like he was supposed to. 

“Mommy,” Amane murmurs, shifting in his chair. “May I be done?”

She stares at him, eyes full of resentment. Hikari dismisses him with a wave of her hand. 

He washes his bowl and books it for the front door. 

She watches him go, a terrible, awful idea forming in her head. 

If Amane dies, then everything will go back to the way it’s supposed to be. 

Her heart twists, thinking about what she has to do; what she must do to get her family back. 

-x-x-x-

At bathtime that night, her chance to right a wrong arises. 

Tsukasa has hidden himself away to avoid taking a bath. Meanwhile, his brother sits patiently on a stool in the bathroom, waiting for Hikari to fill the tub. In better circumstances, she would’ve praised him for being so obedient. But now all she wants to do is get this over with. 

She wishes she didn’t have to do this herself.

She fills the bath.

“Come on, Amane.” She keeps her tone gentle and kind. Her boys always listen better that way. 

“Tsukasa’s hiding,” Amane mumbles, hands clutched to his chest. “Do you want me to go get him?”

“No,” she says simply. 

Amane shivers in the tub. In her haste, she forgot to make sure the water wasn’t absolutely freezing, but he’s a good sport about it. He keeps quiet, giving his mom a tight-lipped smile. 

“Amane,” she says, mournful despite him being alive, healthy, and whole in front of her. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, momma.” It breaks her heart how forgiving both her boys are. It would be so much easier if he screamed at her or cried or did anything besides take it. “I forgive you.” He continues to shiver. He wraps his arms around his midsection.

“I’m sorry,” she repeats, placing her hands on his tiny shoulders. Before he can so much as gasp, Hikari pushes him under. 

He thrashes, but her grip is firm and unwavering. 

This is for their family. 

She watches the air bubbles slowly stop, feels the fight start to leave his tiny body. She’s so focused on the tub in front of her that she doesn’t hear the bathroom door open. 

“Mama?” Tsukasa asks. “Where’s Amane?” 

Startled, she lets go of Amane. He takes the chance to resurface, choking and sputtering on cold bathwater. 

Tsukasa blinks, wide-eyed. “Amane? Why’re you coughing like that?”

It’s hard to tell with all the water if Amane has started crying, but knowing how prone to tears he is, it wouldn’t surprise her. “Mama,” he addresses her instead, voice wavering. “Mama, I didn’t like that game. Please, I want to be done with the bath tonight.”

It wouldn’t do if she had to distract Tsukasa and hold Amane down again. She has no more energy to deal with either, so she finishes up quickly. 

There’d be more chances anyway. 

-x-x-x-

Her next chance comes a few weeks later. Amane is more distant, choosing to stay close to his brother’s side. He also refuses to take baths without his brother present, but that’s a minor issue. Hikari knows better than to try something twice. 

Tsukasa is somewhere outside, and Amane is still eating his breakfast. 

“Amane,” Hikari starts, putting on her sweetest voice because her boys always seem to listen better that way. “Would you like a treat?”

“Sure- I mean, yes, please, mom.” He gives a small smile. 

“Good.” She goes over to a cupboard and pulls out an anpan. She baked this special for him last night. Her husband hadn’t come home last night, so she had all the time in the world to get everything right. “I baked an anpan for you last night.” With a few extra ingredients of course, courtesy of the rat poison from the shed.  

“For Tsukasa too?” He sounds like such a good big brother, worrying about Tsukasa being rewarded as well. 

“No, baby, this one is special. Just for you.”

Amane shifts in his seat. “But Tsu-”

“Your brother will have one later. This one is just for you.”

“Okay, momma.” 

She places it in front of him. “Eat up.”

He lifts the bun to his mouth when the front door suddenly opens. 

“Daddy!” Amane shouts, dropping the bun. It falls to the floor. “Oops,” he murmurs, “sorry, momma. I can still eat it.”

Her husband wrinkles his nose, setting his briefcase on the counter. “Don’t do that, Amane. That’s dirty.” He picks it up off the floor. “No one wants to eat food off the floor. Here,” he chucks it in the trash. 

Hikari silently stews, refusing to look at her son in fear she might just decide to forgo all her plans and throttle him. Whether she strangles him or stabs him with the kitchen knife sitting on the counter a foot away, she’d decide on the way down. 

“I’m just here to change my clothes,” her husband says, moving around her to lay a kiss on Amane’s head. “That’s it.”

“Of course,” she mutters. “I didn’t expect anything else.”

Amane slides down from the table, sensing (correctly) another incoming argument. 

She watches him from the corner of her eye as he hurries out the front door, likely going to search for his little brother. 

-x-x-x-

Her final plan is simple. She’s beyond exhausted from the week already, and she wants so badly for her family (the ones still supposed to be here) to return to normal. She can’t take her husband’s absence and her youngest’s weirdness anymore. 

It’s been a minute since she tucked in either of her children, but that night she visits Tsukasa first, making sure he’s nice and situated before going to Amane. 

Amane’s eyes widen seeing her. He half-hides under his blankets when she enters. She holds a pillow in her arms. 

Hikari says nothing, coming over to his bedside. She kneels beside his futon. Carefully, gently, she brushes his hair back, just like she used to. He relaxes into her touch, leaning into it. 

She feels her eyes brim with tears.

“Mommy? What’s wrong-”

She strikes before he can move away. Hikari places the pillow over his face, pressing down. He thrashes just like he did in the bathtub, but this time, Tsukasa wouldn’t be coming to save him. She presses down harder. This has to work. 

She’s out of ideas.

Amane’s tiny nails dig into her hands, scratching them up. His legs flail, kicking fruitlessly in the air. His small gasps of air are only audible to her. 

“Shhh…” she tries, hoping her voice might be a comfort in his final moments. “Stop fighting. It’ll all be over soon.” 

Amane’s body grows weaker. He doesn’t thrash as much. His fingers weakly hold onto her wrists. 

She can almost picture his face. The forced peaceful expression as he succumbs to the lack of oxygen.

Finally, she pulls the pillow away. 

Amane’s as pale and blue as the day he was born. Only this time, she’s making the right choice. She had been selfish in her decision, keeping him alive just to suffer a little while longer. 

She gathers him in her arms, blanket and all. “I’m so sorry, baby,” she murmurs. “It’s over now. It’s all over now. No more pain and no more tears.”

As she hums to him, rocking back and forth, Hikari can’t help but wonder when things will start going back to normal; when things would reset and her husband and son would return to their usual selves. 

Well, she thinks to herself, pressing a kiss to Amane’s hair. I can wait a while longer. 

-x-x-x-

Yuki arrives home earlier than usual. The last few months he’s purposefully avoided going home whenever possible, but today he realized how silly he’s been. He can’t keep running from all his problems, especially when his wife and kids need him. 

The house is quiet when he enters, the lights in the downstairs area are shut off. He sets his briefcase and bento box on the counter. He’d deal with them later. Right now, he wants to say goodnight to his boys before they go to sleep. 

He glances at his watch. It’s seven, which means they’re likely in bed but not yet asleep. 

Yuki climbs the stairs. These last few months have felt like several years the way they stretched on and on and on. He enters Tsukasa’s room first. The music box he brought home when the boys were babies plays, sitting on the floor next to his son’s head. 

Tsukasa blinks up at him, still very much awake. He smiles. “Daddy!” He wriggles out of his covers to hug Yuki’s leg. “I’ve missed you!” 

He picks him up, squeezing him tight. “I missed you too. How come your brother isn’t here?” The last few months the boys have returned to sharing a room. Most of Amane’s things were still being kept in Tsukasa’s room, so reverting back to them sharing was as easy as dragging a futon into the bedroom. 

Tsukasa’s lips purse. “Mama said brother had to sleep in the sickroom tonight.”

“Well, that’s weird.” He tosses his son in the air, catching him. Tsukasa giggles, kicking his feet. “Let’s go see your brother.”

“Okay!” 

Yuki steps into the hallway, holding his son close. The light, he notices immediately, is on in Amane’s room. The second thing he notices is that the door is shut. 

A heavy sort of foreboding washes over Yuki. 

He slowly slides the door open. The next few minutes are a blur of covering Tsukasa’s eyes, yelling at his wife, and calling an ambulance. Because there in his wife’s arms, silent and pale with blue-tinted lips and a yellowish bruise on his cheek, is Amane. 

His wife looks up at him with a hopeful expression. “I did it,” she breathes, voice shaky. “I did it for our family.”

“Wha-” He holds Tsukasa’s head to his chest, blocking his view of his brother’s body. 

“Everything will go back to normal now. I fixed it.”

“Fixed what!? You- you killed our son!” Anger blazes inside his chest. Anger at his wife, of course, but also at himself for not noticing how mentally deranged his wife has become. Surely there were signs he missed. 

“He was supposed to die anyway.”

Yuki turns to leave but realizes he doesn’t want to leave Amane alone with her, even if he is dead. A part of him wants to believe his son is sleeping. That all of this is a bad dream, but his arms are starting to get sore from holding his son and his collar is digging into his neck and he can faintly hear the sounds of sirens in the distance. 

This isn’t a dream. It’s real. 

Tsukasa wiggles in his arms, trying to see his brother. Yuki holds him tighter and backs away from the room where his teary-eyed wife is cradling their dead son while mumbling nonsense. He couldn’t save Amane, but he can save Tsukasa. 

It’s the hardest thing he’s ever had to do, walking away, but the police are knocking on the front door and he can’t keep Tsukasa contained forever. He forces himself to move forward, not looking back once. A part of him fears, if he does, he might decide to try and bring Amane along as well. 

He gets to the front door on jelly-numb legs, still holding Tsukasa tightly to his chest even though there’s nothing for him to see any more. 

The police continue to knock - each one a reminder that he isn’t dreaming, that one of his baby boys is gone. He opens the door and points towards the stairs. “There,” he says. “My wife and…” he chokes on a sob. 

One officer climbs the stairs in search of his wife and son, while the other has him sit on the couch. 

“Tell me what happened,” his tone is gentle but firm.

Yuki combs his fingers through his son’s choppy hair. “I think…” he takes a deep breath to collect himself. His heart beats rapidly in his chest, thudding against his ribcage like a caged beast. “I think it all started a few months back…”

Chapter Text

Tsukasa isn’t exactly sure how it started. 

Perhaps it started after a doctor’s visit. His brother laying down, body slightly propped up with several pillows to clear all the fluids in his lungs. And him, standing in the corner, waiting, because their mommy was firm when she told him to wait for the medicine to take hold in Amane’s system. Or maybe it was after a long afternoon of playing in the garden, bug shells and bottle caps littering the bedroom floor. 

Either way, Tsukasa quickly learned the best way to calm his ailing brother is by singing. 

During the worst of his brother’s feverish fits, tossing and turning and screaming for their mama to “make it stop,” Amane relaxed instantly listening to him sing. The lines in his forehead always smoothing over and his cries tapering off into the ever-present wheeze that not even the best doctor in their village could soothe. 

“Hush-a-bye, hush-a-bye,” he sings, softly. His brother needed to sleep now. He had sat up all morning waiting for Tsukasa to return from the yard. It’s a miracle he managed to stay awake this long, but his brother’s always been stubborn. “My good baby, sleep.”

Amane fights through his tiredness. He watches Tsukasa through half-lidded eyes, but Tsukasa’s just as stubborn and even more persistent than his brother. And he’ll sing until he can’t anymore - if only to lull his brother to a peaceful sleep. 

“Tsu….kasa….” his brother murmurs, weakly. Fever-bright eyes fighting to stay open. 

“Shhh….Amane,” he mumbles, fingers combing through his brother’s hair.

Teary-eyed because he didn’t understand why his brother never seemed to be awake when he came to visit, Tsukasa asked their mama, why he had to sleep so much. Gently, she explained that sleep was making him feel better, and that he won’t get better without it. 

And Tsukasa so desperately wants his brother to get better. So, he can run and play and do all the things he’s never been able to do before, like dance in the rain or go to the pool or even go outside without their mama or daddy carrying him. 

“It hurts. I want momma.” His voice is soft, weak from all the crying he did earlier. There’s no urgency in his voice. No real call to grab their mama. He slides his hand into his brother’s, squeezing it. 

Amane squirms, trying to find comfort in an uncomfortable body. Silent tears flow down his chubby cheeks. Tsukasa uses his other hand to lightly wipe them away. 

He kisses his brother’s forehead. “Sleep, Amane.”

His brother’s eyes finally close, hand going limp in Tsukasa’s grip. 

He always likes to sit there afterward. Sometimes coloring, and other times practicing origami with the fancy paper daddy bought him and brother to share. Amane sleeps better when he knows Tsukasa isn’t too far away. 

Oftentimes, he’ll even sing long after his brother’s gone to sleep, especially on the particularly bad days where sleep is an idle, restless thing. 

Tsukasa sits there now. Mama brought him a coloring book and some crayons when she brought Amane his medicine. 

His brother whimpers in his sleep. Taking his hand out of his brother’s grasp, he gently smooths his brother’s bangs down over his sweaty forehead. “It’s okay, Amane. Brother’s here. It’s okay.” He isn’t really sure of that. Mama cries a lot, and daddy has to work so much just to afford his brother’s medicine. 

He smiles anyway, rubbing his face into the top of his brother’s head. Tsukasa stays there for a moment, snuggling close to him, pressing kisses into the tangled, choppy mess. Their mama doesn’t kiss or hug Amane a lot these days. She says it’s because she’s afraid to pass on any sicknesses to him, but he doesn’t understand that. 

His brother needs kisses and hugs just like he does. Maybe even more so. He’s in so much pain all the time, and seems to only relax listening to lullabies or being held. But no amount of telling their mama this ever makes her change her mind. And no amount of telling her to sing to Amane ever makes her stay longer than a few minutes each time. 

But that just means Tsukasa will have to be the one to do it. And he’ll do it happily. 

Anything to see his brother smile again. 

-x-x-x-

Amane’s having one of his “bad” days again. His cries come out sounding wheezey and weak.

“Mama! Momma! Make-make it-it stop!” He wails, little body shaking from the force of the cries. “Make it better!” 

Their mama must be tired because she excuses herself to her and daddy’s bedroom. She tells Tsukasa to stay there until she gets back. Not that he planned to go anywhere else. 

“I don’t want to be here anymore!” His brother screams, hands clutching tightly to the front of his pajama shirt. His voice breaks from the force of his cries. 

“Amane,” he mumbles, “it’s okay.”

“It hurts so bad! I want momma!” He squirms, visibly distressed, and all Tsukasa can do is sit beside him. 

He wonders, replacing the blanket his brother kicked off, when their mama will come back. 

Tsukasa shrinks in on himself, arms wrapping around his middle. He feels small and helpless and like a failure of a brother being unable to calm Amane down. His heart beats against his ribcage, while his racing mind begs him to run away. 

But he refuses to leave his brother like this. Crying and alone and in so much pain that Tsukasa can almost feel it himself. 

“Amane,” he whispers, laying a soothing hand over his eyes. His brother jerks away, only to relax immediately afterwards. His breathing is sharp and heavy. “I’m here.”

His brother chokes on a sob. He holds onto Tsukasa’s fingers, clutching them like a child might their teddy bear. He holds them firmly over his eyes, keeping them there; keeping him there. Like he’s afraid Tsukasa might walk away like their mama or daddy. 

“That’s it, Amane,” he praises his brother’s even breathing. “You’re doing such a good job.”

It almost seems like the worst of it is over, but Amane coughs so hard he chokes on some phlegm. The force of it all, causes his brother to bend forward, head nearly on his knees. 

Tsukasa backs away, dropping his hand from his brother’s eyes. His heart beats faster and faster, and tears brim in his eyes. He wants their mama to come back now. 

Amane’s eyes get really big. The noises he makes are guttural and frantic. He claws at his blankets, trying to get a breath in. 

Tsukasa puts his hands over his ears. He watches in abject horror as his brother slowly asphyxiates. 

Amane throws his head from side to side as he struggles to breathe. He looks at Tsukasa with tears streaming down his face, begging him to make it stop.  

Tsukasa is about to go get their mama. If only so he doesn’t have to sit there and feel useless. When Amane gives one big cough and he’s able to breathe again. 

Tsukasa with his watery eyes and hands over his ears, watches his brother’s chest rise and fall, sucking in breath after breath. Amane looks at him, eyes equally as watery and bottom lip quivering. 

Tsukasa’s hands fall to his sides. “Amane, I’m sorry,” he says, even though it’s no one’s fault but the icky sickness that his brother has. There’s lead in his chest, weighing him down. 

“Brother,” he cries, small hands similar to his own, reaching out for him. 

Tsukasa curls up next to Amane, burrowing under the covers. His brother’s uncomfortably warm, almost too warm, like the asphalt on a hot summer day. 

Tsukasa hates his brother’s sickness.

Only when both boys have their arms wrapped around one another in some semblance of a hug, does Amane’s cries wane some. He still hiccups and whines, but it’s quieter. Almost like he’s afraid he might hurt Tsukasa’s ears if he continues wailing. 

Tsukasa fiddles with his brother’s hair, combing down the most stubborn pieces with his fingers. 

“Look at the stars in the sky….” 

His brother whines and tries to turn his head away, but Tsukasa firmly holds his head still. His brother needs to rest. He needs to rest, and it’s best if they rest together. 

“No, Amane. Sleep,” he lightly scolds his brother. “The little lights of the little stars.” He continues singing, unperturbed by his brother’s antics to stay awake for a little while longer. 

“I’m scared to go to sleep,” Amane admits. “I have bad dreams.”

Tsukasa rubs his nose against his brother’s. “Sing a little happiness.” His brother calms, eyes starting to flutter and breathing slowing to that familiar wheeze. 

“Look at the stars in the sky. The nameless stars like us.”

Tsukasa can only hope tomorrow will be better, because the thought of his brother suffering more, hurts his heart in more ways than one. 

“Wish for a little happiness.”

Chapter Text

“Amane,” Tsukasa says, absently fiddling with a nonexistent string on his shirt.

After the severance, they have nothing but time, at least until the last train comes to collect them. 

Hanako’s legs dangle over the edge of the platform. “Yeah?”

His brother, pleased at not being ignored, comes to sit right next to him. The sides of his legs touch Amane’s. It would be annoying if he, too, isn’t so terrified of what’s to come. He’s spent his entire afterlife haunting the nearshore, and the idea of going to the far shore makes him feel nauseous. 

When they were alive, up until Hanako drove the knife into his brother’s still beating heart, they huddled together whenever they got scared. Or, rather, whenever he got scared, because his younger brother seemingly never got scared. At least, not as often as Hanako did. 

“Do you think mom and dad are waiting for us?”

Hanako freezes, entire body tensing up. The last thing he wants to think about are their parents. 

Complicated doesn’t even begin to describe their relationship with their parents. Particularly their mother who oscillated from loving and overbearing to tormentor and jailer in an instant. He can barely remember her now; can barely remember anyone that he hasn’t met as a ghost now. But he remembers how she used to make them donuts on cold, winter days. How she used to hold him close during the worst of his sickness, and how she taught him to read so he wouldn’t be so lonely, laying in bed all day. 

But he also remembers being beaten black and blue with a bamboo stick. He remembers crying out, begging her to stop, and being ignored. 

He remembers being left there, in the basement of their house, the cool stone floor digging into his aching body. Sometimes his brother would come down after their mom and dad went to bed, bringing him a blanket or curling up around him. 

But more often than not, especially in the days leading up to the murder, Amane found himself alone. 

The voices from the well were overwhelmingly loud, almost too loud, and one day, Amane found he had to listen to them. 

“I hope not.” It slips out before he can stop it. He doesn’t mean it. Not really. He knows now that it was the influence of the supernatural that made their parents like that. And with all the sins he’s committed in the last fifty years, he shouldn’t cast any blame on them. 

But every time he closes his eyes, he sees his mom and the twisted look on her face. He feels the stick or the belt or whatever weapon she decided to use on him that particular day digging into his flesh, marring it with sickly pinks and ugly browns. 

Tsukasa says nothing, watching a group of supernaturals run for the train. He finally speaks, voice barely above a murmur, “did you kill me because of them.”

Hanako knows what he means to ask is, did you kill me because I didn’t stop them? And the answer to that is, “no. I knew you would’ve if you could.”

Tsukasa hums. “How do you know that? Maybe I wanted you to suffer.”

“Maybe you did,” Hanako says, not willing to argue. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s been wrong. “But I hoped you wouldn’t.” 

Tsukasa turns his head away, and Hanako wonders if he’s experiencing the same emotion he does whenever his brother reminds him about the murder. 

“Amane,” Tsukasa starts, chewing his bottom lip, “Mom used to scare me.”

“She used to scare me too.”

“No, I mean, I was terrified of her. More than I ever was of you when you finally snapped.”

Hanako winces but recovers quickly. “How come?”

“I thought, sometimes, that she was going to kill you.”

Hanako had thought the same thing too, curling up to prepare for blow after blow, but hearing it out loud feels entirely different. It feels real, like their mother might have actually ended his life if given half-a-chance. 

“She used to scream at me,” he continues. “She used to tell me that if she found out I helped you, I would join you in the basement.”

“It’s okay,” Hanako reassures his brother, because he knows that's what Tsukasa really wants. To dissuade his own guilt, and Hanako knows what that feels like. To hold onto something terrible for so many years. To need release from the guilt. And he’s a lot of things, but a grudge holder isn’t one of them. “You did the best you could. You were only a kid.”

“We both were.”

Hanako swallows thickly. “Yeah, well, I think I proved mom right in the end.” It’s meant to be a half-hearted joke, but his voice wavers towards the end.

Tsukasa returns to watching the trains, because unlike him, he’s not yet ready to release Hanako of his biggest sin. And maybe he deserves that. Maybe murderers like him should never be forgiven. 

“I miss mom,” Hanako admits. “I miss how she used to be.”

“Me too,” Tsukasa says. “It’s been so long since I tasted one of her homemade donuts.”

“I miss her hugs,” Hanako remisciences. “How she used to hug us so close we could smell her perfume and the lavender soap that she used.”

Tsukasa frowns. “I miss the way she would set us in her lap whenever she read us a bedtime story.”

Hanako smiles. “And how we’d play with her hair whenever it was down.” His fingers twitched as if recalling the memory. 

“Amane?”

“Yeah?”

“I really hate being dead.”

Hanako almost says “me too,” but he doesn’t deserve to commiserate with his brother. Not when it’s his own fault he’s dead. And definitely not when it’s his fault that his brother is dead. 

“I’m sorry,” he says instead, hanging his head. 

“I wanted to grow up and be a doctor.”

Hanako’s heart twists. He didn’t know that, and honestly, he didn’t want to know that. But it’s his fault that his brother would never get to do that, so the least he can do is listen. “Really?” His voice is strained. 

“Yeah. All I ever wanted to do was help people.”

Hanako opens his mouth to respond, but the train’s whistle blows. Seeing a way out, he hops to his feet. “Well, see you around.”

“See you,” Tsukasa says, already back to his usual cheery self. 

Hanako hurries towards the crowd, spotting familiar purple hair. 

Chapter Text

It was a rule in their house that Amane washed the dishes on Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday, while Tsukasa washed the dishes the other days. And on the days either of them weren’t on dish duty, they helped the other by drying and putting the dishes away. 

Or they usually did anyway. 

Amane huffed. Of course, his brother would choose today of all days not to help out. If he wasn’t so focused on trying to clean the dishes, then he might've stormed up the stairs. Their parents - particularly their mother - wasn’t the forgiving type. It had been years and years since either of them had felt her mercy. 

His stomach ached, and he had to stop a moment until the pain passed. It never does, but he managed to lessen the pain a bit by leaning against the counter. After he’s done here, he’ll take some Tylenol. 

The sound of the water rushing out filled the kitchen. 

Another wave of pain shot through Amane’s stomach area, and this time no amount of pressure made it go away. He shut the tap off, clumsily stumbling away from the sink. 

He needed….he needed…

Amane had to do dishes today. Yesterday was Tsukasa’s turn, so that meant today was his turn. He made a u-turn back to the sink. A single item lays at the bottom of the sink. He scrubbed it, using the good sponge that his mom reserved for hard, stubborn stains. 

His stomach hurt. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes. Why was he crying? That didn’t make sense. It had been a long, long time since Amane felt safe enough to cry. 

But his stomach really hurt. Maybe he should get a Tylenol. 

He turned the tap off and shook the water from his hands. 

He stumbled over to the cabinet. 

Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday are his days to do the dishes. He must have dozed off after school, because that’s the only reasonable explanation as to why they aren’t done yet. He wondered why Tsukasa didn’t wake him up, but stopped that train of thought because this wasn’t his brother’s responsibility. 

He grabbed the knife, the only dish in the sink, and scrubbed hard. The stainless steel shined brilliantly. Amane could see his face looking back at him, but it just didn’t seem clean enough. He scrubbed more. 

The landline rang. 

The knife made a clattering sound when he dropped it in the sink. Amane slowly clambered over to the phone. His stomach hurt too much to move much faster. He picked the phone up, holding it to his ear. 

“He-hello…?”

“I’m trying to reach the Yugi Residence.”

Amane found he had no energy to continue the call. He placed the receiver back into its cradle. 

Tsukasa was supposed to be down here with him. It’s weird that he wasn’t. Usually he’d be the first at the sink. It was one of the few things they do together nowadays that wasn’t arguing. 

The knife was cool in Amane’s hands. The serrated blade faced up towards him. He stood there, transfixed on the knife. His eyes zeroed in on one particular spot. A red splotch, practically microscopic, sat on the very edge. It teased him, hiding amongst the serrated teeth of the knife. 

Something snapped inside of him. He screamed, throwing the knife away from him. It hit the wall, clattering to the floor. Amane lightly touched his stomach. His hand came away wet. Something in him was too afraid to see why. 

But he knew it couldn’t be good. 

On weak legs, he managed to collapse against the kitchen counter. His back sliding down the aged wood. From this angle, the cause of his pain was undeniable. Red - red as far as the eye could see. 

Footprints tracked it all over the usual spick and span kitchen. The sink he just agonized over for God knows how long was coated in a thick layer of red. He glanced down at his shirt.

The same shirt he wore to school every day. The same shirt his brother and him sometimes swapped, because they could. 

His shirt was cut up, or it seemed like it at least. With all the blood covering everything, it’s hard to tell what’s what. Amane’s head buzzed. 

He needed to wash the dishes…

That was what he had been doing before. Before….

Amane rested his head against the counter. It wouldn’t be long before their mom came home from the market, or maybe it would be their dad that found them first. Through the buzzing in his head, he could picture the look on their faces, and even though they’ve been nothing but terrible to both of them since Tsukasa came back, he took no pleasure in the pain he was about to cause them. 

He hadn’t meant for everything to end like this. He just wanted to make everything better. To make his little brother - his real little brother - come back. But nothing happened and he panicked and now his parents will come home to two dead sons. 

It hurt so badly. Bad enough that he had to bite down on a wash rag to keep from screaming out, but after that. After cutting open his stomach and slicing open his bruised arms and scratched up legs, the pain fell into the background of his forethoughts. Of course, it was always there, and he continued spilling blood on his way back down the stairs, but it was manageable. 

It wasn’t manageable now, sitting against the counter his mom used to use to bake donuts for them. 

He thought of his brother right then. How terrified he looked right at the end. He must be cold, laying there. Amane felt cold too, and his body seemed to only grow colder the longer he sat there. But he never really cared much for himself, so he awkwardly got to his feet and trudged back up the stairs. Or he tried to, at least, the hole in his stomach ripped wider with the excess movements, and it’s harder than it seemed keeping his guts inside with one hand, while supporting his weight against the wall with the other. 

Bloody streaks painted his family home, leading part of the way up the stairs. Amane collapsed, body giving out on him. He laid there, panting and moaning in pain, withering away. The image of his brother, lips blue and face pale, urged him onwards. But he found he could no longer pick his head up. 

He laid there; body sprawled out on the staircase. The edge of the stairs dug into the hole in his stomach, making him wince and groan from the pain. 

Amane’s eyes shut. 

He wouldn’t die for another hour. Two whole minutes before his mom would return home. A bag of groceries in her arms. She’d call for her boys, sliding her shoes off in the entry way, but they’d never answer her. 

She found Amane first, laying on the staircase, head tilted to the side. The white walls were streaked with blood. Tsukasa would be found next, body long since cold and the front of his uniform-soaked red. 

Her husband would find his wife first, body hanging in the entry way between the front room and the kitchen. And then, Amane’s body next, stomach sliced so deep he could almost see the other side. 

Tsukasa was found last, again, and their dad cried over his body. The loss was so large that he couldn’t bear to keep it inside. 

It was two weeks later before the family's bodies were found, and two more weeks until they were all laid to rest. 

Dishes still on the drying rack. 

Chapter Text

Teru’s loud footsteps reverberate throughout the house, stomping down hallways and up the stairs. He’d only been here once before, when he had to exorcise his little-

He shakes his head to banish the thought, but even if he took his brain out and scrubbed it, it wouldn’t be enough to forget what happened here. What Hanako- no, not Hanako. Hanako knows what he is. That thing - whatever it was - didn’t seem to fit into either box. 

But it….it was Hanako in all the ways that mattered. It had his face, his voice, even his same mannerisms just in a bigger body.

It seems, in all timelines, Hanako should’ve never lived past his fourth birthday. 

He confided in Akane about his concerns. If anyone would understand his suspicions over the supernatural it would be him, and he did. Kind of. Akane let him rant for a while, going about the various chores thrust upon him by the other two clock keepers (especially considering he’d been absent for over a week while Kako righted the timeline). 

He even helped Teru form his own plan. A plan that, due to everything else not working, Kako agreed to help with. 

A plan that was going to take care of Hanako forever - way before Teru’s grandmother ever had to seal him away. 

Teru stands at the top of the landing, looking down the hall. He had no idea where Hanako’s room might be. His time here is limited, so he goes to the first door. Sliding it open, he looks inside. 

No one. 

He checks another. 

Again, no one. 

He tries again, hoping he doesn’t have to resort to burning the whole house down. As angry as he is at Hanako, Teru would rather avoid causing too much property damage. He’s here for one person and one person only. 

There’s one door left. He slides it open, holding his breath. If Hanako’s not here, Teru doesn’t know what he’ll do. 

There, in the middle of the room on a small futon, is Hanako. A much, much younger Hanako. For a moment, Teru stands in the doorway. He moves forward, quietly so as not to wake the child up. 

He shuts the door behind him.

-x-x-x-

Not far behind him, lagging only because Kako hadn’t been forthcoming with information, Kou, Nene, and Tsukasa - of all people - land in the front yard. 

Tsukasa recovers first, brushing himself off. He hurries to the front door, not waiting to see if Kou and Nene are following him. There’s no time. 

Even decades away from this place, he could find his and Amane’s bedroom in his sleep. The same couldn’t be said for the other two, but he’s confident they’ll find their way. 

He floats up the stairs, wondering idly where his mom could be. And for that matter, where he - the younger version of himself - could be. From Tsukasa’s understanding, he hadn’t struck that deal for his brother’s health yet. The only thing he could think of was their mom’s weekly grocery run at the market. She didn’t usually take Tsukasa, but that didn’t mean she never did. 

Which is fine by him. It makes it easier to have a confrontation without having to explain himself to a past version of himself and his neurotic mother.

He’s just outside their old room, the door is shut (something that never happened in all his memories of their early childhood. A shut door means mama, papa, and him can’t peek in to make sure Amane’s okay. A shut door means he can’t get to Amane quick enough if he starts crying). 

“Hey! Wait!” Kou and Nene choose that exact moment to catch up. Tsukasa clenches his teeth, pushing down his annoyance. He knows these are his brother’s friends, which means they’re his friends. But that doesn't mean he can’t find them annoying. 

“Took you long enough,” he teases, giving them a wide smile. 

Nene opens her mouth, face scrunched up in a way that tells him she’s about to give a piece of her mind. A scream, however, cuts her off. Tsukasa instantly recognizes it as coming from his and Amane’s old playroom. The one littered with toys, papers, and other crafting supplies. 

Barely a second has passed before he’s thrown himself through the doors, and right into the familiar room. He pays no mind to his brother’s friends. All he can think about is that his brother’s in danger. And not just any version of his brother, but the version of Amane that he gave everything to protect. The one that he brought toys and books and flowers to see a hint of a smile on his feverish face. 

The one that used to cry when the doctor would poke him for blood, and wouldn’t stop until Tsukasa sat by his bedside and held his clammy hand.

The one that liked to read to Tsukasa.

The version of his brother that couldn’t fully rest unless he knew where Tsukasa was. 

And most of all, this is the version of Amane that he looks back fondly on. The version of his brother that loved Tsukasa as best and as openly as he could. 

While, admittedly, his and his brother’s relationship has strained over the years, Tsukasa would never let anyone - especially someone like Teru Minamoto - kill Amane. 

His brother screams again, sending a shock wave straight into his heart. Fifty-plus years with no heartbeat, but somehow he feels closer to death than the day his brother took that kitchen knife straight to his heart. He suddenly feels bad for their mother who, until the day she died, worried incessantly about them.

“Stop!” Tsukasa shouts, preemptively sending out his koku-joudai. They circle in the air, ready to attack at his command. “Don’t hu-” He trails off, confused at the sight before him. 

Amane’s smiling - really, actually smiling. He looks up at the koku-joudai with eyes full of wonder. Teru has him raised in the air. 

“-hurt him…?” Tsukasa calls off his koku-joudai. “I’m sorry, am I missing something?” 

Teru tosses Amane in the air, only to catch him. He seems to ignore Tsukasa, fixating on the giggling toddler in front of him.

“...Minamoto…?” 

Something twists in Tsukasa’s chest. An inkling of a feeling that something’s not right. He hears the others racing down the hall, sounding like a bunch of galloping race horses, but he pays them no mind. 

“Put him down, Teru Minamoto!” But his words are once again ignored. Teru throws the toddler into the air again, a little higher, catching him at the last second. 

He can feel the others’ eyes on the back of his head, curious as to what the problem is. But Tsukasa knows better; knows that whatever Teru has planned cannot be good. Amane looks so happy, though, smiling brighter than he likely has in months. Tsukasa hates to ruin the fun, but something tells him if he doesn’t, something bad is going to happen. 

He goes to take Amane from Teru’s arms, but he throws him in the air again -  a little higher this time - only when his brother comes back down, no one catches him. 

Amane falls to the ground with a sickening crack! No one moves. No one breathes. 

Even Teru looks shellshocked, as if he’s not the reason poor, little Amane is bleeding out through a crack in his skull. 

Tsukasa gathers his brother in his arms, holding him firm. “I’m here,” he murmurs. Warm blood coats his shaking hands. “I’m here, Amane.”

Teru’s eyes brim with tears. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, falling to his knees beside Tsukasa. “I’m so, so, so sorry.”

Tsukasa shields his brother, keeping him away from the person that hurt him so badly. He closes his eyes, adrenaline wearing off. 

Chapter Text

Their mom stands in the doorway of the basement, stick in hand. The look on her otherwise beautiful face is twisted and ugly. “You asked for this!” She shouts, whacking the stick against the doorframe. 

Amane moves back instinctively, tugging at his brother by the shirt because Tsukasa never seems to fear these beatings as much as he does.

“We’re sorry, mom,” he tries, stammering. “It- it was my-”

“Shut up!” Their mom interrupts him, the look on her face darkening further. She closes the door to the basement and marches down the stairs. The bare bulb hanging loosely above the boys’ heads is the only lighting in the whole basement. It swings precariously, having been left on by their mom while she and their dad ate dinner. 

“Amane, it seems like you need another lesson. You’ve been a very bad boy this week.”

Amane shakes his head, furiously. He didn’t need to be cleansed. He had been a good boy. He did all his chores and didn’t fight with his brother and didn’t complain once. There has to be another reason. Unless he hadn’t actually been a good boy…?

He thinks back to every single interaction, every conversation, everything he’d done in the past week. Maybe he didn’t clean the dishes correctly? Or maybe his tone had been too short and too snippy when his mom asked him a question. 

He chews his bottom lip, drawing blood.

“Amane’s been good,” Tsukasa says, voice steadier than anything he could’ve managed. “He helped me with my homework and did his chores and-”

“Shut up!” Their mom yells at his brother. “Your brother is bad, and if you keep talking back, you can join him.”

Tsukasa opens his mouth to defend him further, but Amane quickly jumps in. He would rather not watch his little brother be beaten - on top of being beaten himself. “Mom, please,” he tries once more, because she has to know this is insane. She can’t just beat him for no reason, right? 

(But she has a reason, it’s just not the one Amane hoped to hear.)

“Amane,” she says, and he gives a small smile, hoping she might’ve seen reason. But his hope bursts before it could really bloom. “Stay still. Moving will only make me angrier.”

Tsukasa stiffens, body tensing. “No.”

Their mom ignores him, nudging him to the side with her foot. She lifts the stick over her head and brings it down. It’s his ear that’s hit first. She brings it down again, aiming for his back and side. 

Amane curls into a ball, trying to protect his face and head. 

Tsukasa keeps trying to grab the stick from their mother’s hand, but it’s no use. She overpowers him and shoves him to the ground. He tries again and again, unwilling to let his brother get beat up. 

“Filthy,” his mom says, whacking him in the stomach, hard. 

He gags, feeling lunch in the back of his throat. He already knows tomorrow he’ll be beyond sore, but that’s nothing new. He’ll get through this. He always does. 

“Evil.” She kicks him in the ribs. “Disgusting!” Two whacks to his shoulder. 

He prays she might be done soon, but with how frantic she sounds and how hard she’s swinging the stick, it’s unlikely to stop anytime soon. 

He tries to remain strong for his little brother; tries to be a good big brother, especially considering Tsukasa’s trying so hard to get their mom to stop. 

But it hurts so bad. 

“Mom! Stop!” He begs, tears brimming his eyes. 

“Evil!” She screams, lifting the stick over her shoulder and bringing it down on the side of his head. 

Amane’s sight goes blurry, and he has to fight to stay awake. His head begins to pound, aching in the exact spot she hit him. He knows it can’t be good news, but it’s not like his mom is in a caring mood. It’s better for him to fight consciousness and get patched up later. 

Besides, he can’t abandon his little brother now. Not when their mom is so gung-ho about beating them today. He’s sure Tsukasa could handle himself, but the idea of leaving him to face mom alone still makes his skin crawl. 

“Mom!” Tsukasa shouts. “Leave him alone!”

For that, Amane’s sure it’s for that anyway, she gives him three whacks in a row, right on his sides. He moves his hands from shielding his face to his sides. The ache he feels is negligible compared to the pounding in his head. But it still hurts all the same. 

“Please, mama,” he pleads with her. “Please, mama, stop it!” 

She lifts her stick again when they all hear the front door open. Their mom adjusts her clothes and lays her stick against the wall. “Stay here,” she says without another glance at them. 

-x-x-x-

Tsukasa doesn’t wait to check on his brother. He’s by his side in an instant, looking him over. 

Amane has covered his face with his hands again.

“She’s gone,” he whispers to his brother. “You can uncover your face now.”

But his brother keeps covering his face. 

“Amane….?” He gently nudges his brother’s hands away from his face. 

His brother’s face is wet and ruddy. The look on his face could only be described as embarrassed and humiliated. But Tsukasa doesn’t understand why. It’s not like he asked their mom to beat him. It’s not his fault. 

“It’s okay, Amane,” he assures him, smoothing his bangs down over his sweaty forehead. “Everything is going to be just fine.”

“Can you lay with me?” His brother asks, voice small and almost childish. Tsukasa has never been one to deny Amane anything and he isn’t about to start now. 

“Sure!” He lays down next to his brother. Their mom had flipped off the light on her way out, so now they lay in pitch darkness. 

They hold hands, seeking comfort in a hopeless situation. They don’t talk, listening to the house settling and the wind whistling through the trees outside. Every so often, Tsukasa squeezes Amane’s hand, reassuring him that he’s still there. And Amane does the same, reciprocating his brother’s small kindness. 

Amane falls asleep, hoping tomorrow might be better. 

Chapter Text

Amane reaches out in the dark of night. The pale moonlight has leaked through the curtains, casting a faint glow on him and his brother. It’s late-fall, which always comes with a slight chill that makes them not want to get up in the morning, too comfortable nestled under thick, wool blankets. 

Sharing the same futon isn’t a common occurrence, even on the chilliest of nights, but tonight they both needed the added comfort. 

Their parents are fighting again, which is a common occurrence. So much so that Amane anticipates the yelling the second he hears the familiar sounds of his dad’s keys jingling. His ears ring long after they cease for the night, bitter words left hanging in the air like poison. 

Tsukasa stares at him, expression unreadable but he understands anyway. Amane turns onto his side, locking eyes with his brother. They stay like that for a while, unblinking, until Amane’s eyes start to burn and he has to blink away the strain. 

“Hah,” his brother cheers quietly, poking his nose. “I win and you lose.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Amane brushes him off. 

They share a near silent laugh, Not too loud so their arguing parents’ attention won’t be redirected at them. It’s best to stay quiet, lest they be dragged to the basement, or worse, forced to sit and listen as they argue about how to punish them. 

The sound of glass shattering startles the boys into slipping underneath the warm blanket, hiding from their angry father and volatile mother. From here, there’s no telling who threw the glass, but neither of them wants to find out. 

“It’s okay,” Amane assures his brother in a shaky voice. He’s the big brother, which means he needs to be strong and brave and not like the scared child he feels like. He’s never been much good at being a big brother. He’s sure his brother thinks the same of him but is too kind and too loving to say so. 

Tsukasa grabs his hand, holding it like a child might a stuffed animal. “Hold my hand,” he demands. “Just until they stop fighting.”

Amane takes a deep breath, half-suffocated by the weight of the blankets and the stuffy air he has to share in the confined space. “Okay.” Though, he would’ve agreed regardless. He misses how close they used to be. How a simple request like holding hands would’ve been granted in silence.

They remain under the blankets, too afraid to resurface and have to deal with the full sounds of their parents slamming cupboards and screaming at one another. 

“I miss mom and dad,” Amane admits.

“Me too.”

Because as bad as their arguments are with each other, it doesn’t hold a candle to their burning hatred of their children. At least, that’s what it feels like. Amane can’t remember the last time he felt loved by someone other than his brother. And even he makes him wonder sometimes. 

“Why do they hate us?” Tsukasa wonders aloud. It’s not the first time he’s asked, nor would it be the last. It’s a common topic of discussion between them, unbeknownst to their parents and the other adults around them. 

“They don’t….” he trails off. There’s no use lying to his brother who’s much more perceptive than people give him credit for. “They loved us,” he finishes instead. 

“Loved.” Tsukasa laughs but it sounds sort of sad. It makes Amane’s heart twist. More than he, himself, wants to be loved, he wishes his brother would be. After everything he’s gone through, being kidnapped for six months, he deserves it much more than Amane. Not that he’s ever said so out loud. He doesn’t need to; he’s sure his brother already knows. 

One of their parents slams a cupboard shut, the sound sudden and jarring. They jump, snuggling closer together. Even knowing that their parents are downstairs, far away from Tsukasa’s room, doesn’t negate their racing hearts. Years of anticipating the worst has turned them skittish. 

“I think we should get some sleep,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded. “School’s tomorrow.”

“I forgot.”

Amane smiles fondly, though his brother can’t see it in the pitch-black darkness. He squeezes Tsukasa’s hand. “Good night.”

“Night!” 

-x-x-x- 

The next night they’re back to sharing a bed. The unusualness of this is offset by their mom’s loud and very clear threats of wanting to hurt and kill them. Her voice is like a knife slicing through the otherwise quiet house. Even their dad hardly says anything back, exhausted from work. 

“Mom’s angry,” Tsukasa whispers. He’s holding Amane’s hands again. Not that he minds. It’s a soft comfort and one that he so desperately needs right now. He left his stuffed bear in his room, and no matter how much he wants it, the thought of potentially being caught by their parents makes him think twice. 

“When is she not?” He can’t remember the last time their mom talked to their father without yelling, or them for that matter. It seems all she knows how to do nowadays is scream and screech and wish ill upon them. 

“Good point.” Tsukasa yawns. The day had been long, and tomorrow’s sure to be just as long and just as exhausting. Maybe even worse, because tomorrow’s Saturday, meaning they’ll have to find creative ways of being taken care of while maintaining distance between them and their mom. 

Sometimes, secretly, Amane wishes his mom would die. He always feels guilty afterward, but a part of him doesn’t. After all, she doesn’t seem to have any problem wishing death upon them. In fact, he can hear her telling their dad how she plans to kill them right this instant. Not that she ever follows through.

He squeezes his brother’s hand. They snuggle, cuddling closer and closer until Tsukasa and him are practically one being, wrapped around each other like bundled up snakes. It’s only here, underneath heaps of blankets and curled up, do they feel even the tiniest bit of security. Even their mom’s threats of wanting to drown them in the bathtub don’t hit quite as hard. 

They fall asleep like that, faintly smiling.

Chapter Text

It’s a terrible thing, being confined to a prison of your own making.

In Amane’s case, that prison is the sickly body of his three-year-old self. His brother hovers over his bedside, eyes softer than he’s ever seen them before. It would be humiliating if the ache in his chest didn’t cause so much discomfort. 

When he was offered the chance to make things right - to get his past misdeeds forgiven - he had expected anything but this. Hellfire, torture, another fifty years as a school wonder, but this, feels like the worst kind of punishment God could of come up with. 

It’s been decades since he’s felt physical pain, and now, all he can feel is pain. And not mild, barely there pain. But all encompassing, all consuming pain that doesn’t leave no matter how hard you wish it would.

He whines, tossing his head to the side. 

He lays on a cot in the corner of the broadcast club. The other members pay him little mind, though Sakura has sat with him a few times while his brother was busy. 

Amane knows it won’t be long. After all, he was supposed to die all those years ago to this exact illness. But it feels like it’s already been years. Outside of the pain and the humiliation, he’s constantly feverish but somehow always cold. 

Tsukasa stays with him a lot, knowing this might be their final days together. Or maybe it will be their final days here together, before they can pass on to the afterlife. Either way, his brother is extremely attentive. 

He brings Amane soft food to eat and extra blankets to cover up with and sings to him whenever the pain gets to be too much. 

Amane spends most of his days asleep. It’s easier that way, and he can’t interfere with his brother’s plans if he’s bed bound. Not that he wants to anyway. The thought of doing anything besides sleeping, reading, or occasionally chatting with Sakura or his brother is too mentally taxing. 

But that night, after the school has long since gone silent, it’s Natsuhiko that sits with him. 

Amane would question his brother and Sakura’s absence, if not for the overwhelming power of sleep washing over him. He tries his best to remain awake. 

“Sleep, runt,” Natsuhiko says, bringing what looks like a pocket knife up to his hand. “You’ll feel better soon.”

Amane whimpers, watching the blood flow from Natsuhiko’s hand. If not for how weak his body is now, he would have gotten up and run away. But he can’t, and his brother’s assistant’s assistant knows this. 

He feels stupidly weak. 

Natsuhiko reaches for his face, placing his hand firmly over Amane’s mouth. Blood trickles in. 

“Shhhh….don’t fight it.”

But Amane does, because for once, he doesn’t want to die. Or disappear or whatever happens to abominations like him. 

It’s a losing battle, though, and no amount of thrashing does any good. No matter how human he may feel, he’s still a supernatural. Which means he was as good as dead the moment Natushiko decided he needed to go. 

Amane’s little body thrashes, fighting the effects of the poison, but it’s no use. His loud gasps of pain fill the broadcast room, growing quieter by the minute. 

The last thing he sees is his brother’s horrified face. 

“....Amane….?”