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It’s still dark outside when Yagen wakes up to the horrible black smell of something burning and he’s out of bed, down the stairs and in the kitchen in three seconds flat.
“Ichinii, what are you doing?”
His older brother turns to him with a small smile adorned with pink flowery apron. “Good morning, Yagen.”
“Yes, yes, good morning—” Yagen hurries to the stove where there is something currently spitting out giant clouds of black smoke from the frying pan. God knows, the pan’s done for and they’ll have to get a new one. He flicks the rangehood on and throws all the windows open before inspecting the ruined pan. “What is this supposed to be anyway?”
He regrets his rash tone immediately when that flicker of hurt creases at the corner of Ichigo’s eyes. Yagen does his best to drop the anger from his face and notices the counter littered with dirty bowls, egg shells and yolk spilling messily over a large puddle of milk. He tries to smile—the same kind of smile one would give to a child who is proud of making a masterpiece when they actually made an even larger mess than the world already was.
Ichinii, he was a kid too.
“Pancakes, right? You were trying to make pancakes for everyone?” Yagen hopes he has concealed the irritancy in his voice properly. A glance at the clock tells him it’s only four in the morning on the first day of the new semester. Ichigo nods and bites his lip, looking down at the burnt pan. Yagen pats his arm and turns back to the dirty counter.
“That’s wonderful! Okay, now that I’m here, why don’t we try remaking this again?” He begins to rinse the batter bowl. “Can you grab more eggs for me?”
Ichigo shakes his head, wringing his wrists guiltily. It’s a sad fact that Yagen has seen this enough times in the past six months to know what that gesture means. He reaches into the coin box above the fridge and hands his older brother some money.
“Go get some more from the convenience store then.”
He’s barely seen Ichigo off at the door when Namazuo stumbles downstairs, hair sticking up in all directions and shirt pulled halfway up his torso. Honebami follows him, face scrunched up like a prune when the tantalizing smell of Ichigo’s ‘pancakes’ hits him. “What’s that awful smell? Ugh, don’t tell me it’s Ichinii again.”
“He’s been trying to make pancakes for everyone.”
Namazuo sniffs the pan suspiciously and throws it into the sink, groaning. “Remember when he could actually make decent pancakes? Man, I miss those times.”
I miss them too, Yagen thinks. He rubs memories from his eyes again and with the sound of running water, scrubbing soap and bubbles and Namazuo’s half-hearted whistling, they begin a new day of remembrance.
“We’re going to be late, Ichinii.”
“You all forgot your raincoats,” says Ichinii softly. Outside, the sun is shining brightly and there isn’t a single cloud in the sky. Midare looks like he’s about to explode—surely there is nothing more infuriating than having to stand in a seven-person train while Ichigo buttons up their raincoats one button at a time—but then Hirano gives him a dangerous look and he bites his tongue. They have more or less learnt to smile and nod, but sometimes things can get frustrating. Ichigo finally finishes buttoning Midare’s raincoat and begins to put Akita’s on for him.
Like a kid.
The older kids watch, not bothering to help him with this daily ritual. Once, when Gotou had offered to help Ichigo button their coats, he had flown into a rage. It’s my job, he says, anger flashing in his eyes that remember nothing but six months of life with his family. Let me do my job. He would have probably hurt Gotou if the others hadn’t been there to stop him.
When he finally finishes putting clothes on everyone, he stands back with a satisfied smile and waves at them as they run down the street to school. He continues waving, even when they are long out of sight and there is only a cat pattering up the street. Honebami tugs on Ichigo’s sleeve.
“Ichinii, you haven’t changed out of your pajamas yet.”
While Honebami and Namazuo make sure that Ichigo doesn’t wear his whacky purple top with bright green shorts, their doorbell rings and Yagen runs to answer it, still stuffing pancakes into his mouth. It’s Tsurumaru.
“Thanks for coming. How was Europe?”
“It was good, thanks. How are you?” Tsurumaru gives him a tired smile, then frowns at the faint smell of the first round of pancakes. “Did Ichi burn something again?”
“He tried to make breakfast for us today.” Yagen stands back to let him into the house. “Can you take over now? We’re going to be late for school. Ichinii is upstairs putting on some clothes.”
“Sure. I just need one of you around when I see him.” Their eyes meet, and they both know exactly what they’re talking about. They hurry upstairs where Namazuo is rushing out of Ichigo’s room.
“We managed to dress him, we really have to go now! Bye!”
Honebami pushes past both of them without a word, leaving Yagen with Tsurumaru. It’s Yagen’s luck that his school is closest so he can leave much later than everybody else, but he really didn’t want to cut so close to be late on the first day of school. He pushes the door open.
“Ichinii, Tsurumaru is here.”
Ichigo is still sitting on his bed where the other two had left him. His relaxed posture instantly tenses when he sees Tsurumaru and Yagen groans inwardly. Not this again.
“Hey, Ichi.” Tsurumaru stays at the door, keeping his distance. It’s a long procedure that increases with the amount of time since he and Ichigo last saw each other, which was a good two weeks since Tsurumaru was overseas. It was probably going to take at least half an hour today. “How are you?”
Ichigo’s eyes are distrusting and he shies away from his boyfriend without moving an inch. “What do you want?”
“Ichinii, do you remember Tsurumaru?” Yagen rubs his brother’s back to try calm him down. “You haven’t seen him in a while now. He’s here to be with you today.”
Ichigo grabs his hand. “You’re leaving me alone with him?” he asks with a voice where panic is rising frantically and his eyes go wide.
“Tsurumaru is safe. I promise.”
“No he isn’t. He hurt me with a knife once.”
No such thing had ever happened, either before or after the accident. Tsurumaru took a step closer to the bed, still smiling, but Yagen could see the sadness in his eyes. No matter how many times they heard it, Ichigo’s empty accusations never got easier to listen to. There was a time when Tsurumaru could sit close to Ichigo and kiss his ears and his hair and his eyes without him flinching or running away, but now he could only stand stiffly and wait for the iceberg to melt.
“You’re thinking of somebody else, Ichinii. Tsurumaru would never hurt you.”
“You promise?”
“I promise,” said Tsurumaru. He held out a box of chocolates and shook it slightly. “Look, I brought you something nice. Would you like to see what it is?”
Thankfully it only takes twenty minutes before Yagen could convince Ichigo to sit beside Tsurumaru comfortably and not run after him when he finally left for school.
There was a small jab in the small of his back when he woke up abruptly from his nap during history class, blinking stupidly at the blackboard full of random dates and events. He thought it must have been his imagination, but then there it was again. He turned around in his seat.
“What is it?” he hissed at the boy sitting beside him, who was grinning cheekily. His classmate pointed at his bag.
“Nice sticker, man. Really mature.”
Yagen should have just ignored him, but he looked down at where he was pointing. There, at the corner of his bag, was a small Pikachu sticker. He knew that if he looked across the room at Gotou or Atsu, he would find something similar stuck on their bags as well. His classmate snickered behind him and he heard a few others join in. There was a wave of disgust and contempt pulsing against his chest that roared to be let out, but he slumped back into his seat and dried his eyes behind his textbook instead.
When Yagen came out of the shower, he found Ichigo sitting at the foot of his bed. One of his brothers had already put him back into his pajamas. “Did you have fun with Tsurumaru today?”
Ichigo nodded sincerely. “We went out for a walk in the afternoon,” he said, letting himself be led into bed as he talked. “Then we did some origami. I made a paper rabbit.”
“That sounds like fun.” He checks Ichigo’s medicine box to make sure that he’s taken everything he should for the day. “Would you like to see him again tomorrow?”
Yes, says Ichigo’s eyes, but Yagen knows that by the time tomorrow comes, Ichigo would have forgotten his boyfriend and everything they did together today. He pats Ichigo’s arm and turns to leave, but his head accidentally bumps into the shelf above the bed, sending something crashing onto the bed.
“Oops—are you ok, Ichinii?”
Ichigo picks up the framed photo and looks at it. It was a photo taken not a year ago, when they had all gone to Ichigo’s high school graduation. Yagen lets him look at the photo for a few seconds before trying to take it off him, but Ichigo holds onto it tightly.
“Ichinii?”
Ichigo looks up at him, and for a moment he has the face of a man who conquers empires, a king who stood as tall as the mountains and a brother who once carried the weight of his entire family on his shoulders.
“Do you remember when we all came to see your graduation ceremony?”
…when you were the last one to go to sleep at night and the one that woke us in the mornings, put raincoats on us when it was actually raining, made the best pancakes and took us out every weekend? Do you remember when you could cross the road without us holding your hand, when you were the one going out to look for us if we didn’t come home on time, when you still got mad at us for not calling home if we were staying out?
The clock ticks and Ichigo shakes his head.
“No.”