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Ma is dead. Pa is too. And his big brother is withering away working like their lives depended on it. It does. Maybe if Sanemi’s younger siblings never existed he wouldn't have suffered so much. When their shitty old man died, Genya promised to take care of their family alongside his brother. But instead he watches him wasting away, getting sick all the time like ma did. It was the sickness that got her. The overworking. The tiredness. (The heartbreak. The beatings). She wasted away taking care of them and it looks like Sanemi is heading toward the same disaster.
For a few years that’s all he ever did. Take care of them like they were his own kids. Then the van Sanemi was driving crashed and killed their babies and left the both of them scarred. Physically. Emotionally. Left a massive gash between them that can never be healed. A giant scar to remind them of how much has changed.
Genya had blamed him. Called him a killer on that hospital bed when he should've just been grateful for his life. Should’ve been grateful he had one remaining sibling at all. But the stupid mouth on him that always gets him in trouble opens too easily. Heartache and accusations on his lips, dealing a final wound to match their scars. They never quite recovered from that moment; apologizing multiple times only to be faced with Sanemi’s disdain. Faced with a brother that keeps pushing him away and treats him like he doesn’t exist.
Tired hands running down his tired eyes. Just do what I say Genya. I don't have time for this.
Doesn't have much time for anything these days except glare at Genya with those dead eyes. But Sanemi had been alive in that hospital. With relief on his face and tears in his eyes when Genya woke up. Those tears made from joy and pain. A small smile on his face. Genya’s anger had done something to that smile. To that sorrow his brother was forced to swallow. Though his baby brother was alive, Sanemi was alone. Genya's words had cut off that fraying thread of hope and hollowed him out. Left him with no choice but to fill his empty spaces with blinding rage and self hatred.
“Genya. Genya, hey.” When he woke up, his big brother was right beside him. Crying, smiling at him. Soothing him.
“What happened?” his voice, sleep rough, small and childish. His sharp eyes couldn't miss the guilt in his big brother's eyes. Trembling and weepy and guilty.
“We got into an accident. The kids- they-“ his big brother swallows his nerves. Not sure if Genya was ready to hear it. Not sure if Sanemi was quite ready to say it. “They didn’t make it.”
“They didn’t-” he didn’t understand. His big brother was always so careful with them. You were driving, he wanted to say. “You killed them.”
”What? No- I-“ His eyes were wide and pleading.
But Genya - confused and angry and healing from disaster - didn’t care.
”You killed them.”
And Sanemi went silent. Because what else was he supposed to say when it was the truth he'd been avoiding.
Sanemi turns away from Genya now, he always does. There was a time when he was young and overeager to cling on to his brother's back. He always thought that back was so wide and strong. He was so sure Sanemi could carry any load. He always thought he could have carried a giant rock. As a kid, that was the heaviest thing he could think of. Never could imagine anything would come their way that was heavier than a fucking boulder.
But his brother's back is so small. Like any gust of wind can snatch him away. Like any small sickness can steal away the breath in his lungs. The blood in his veins. Just like ma. By the time he was ten, Genya was already taller than her. And his mama that was once so big, she towered over him - became small. (And as Genya grew taller still, his big brother that once protected him became small). He doesn’t wanna think about that.
He takes care of his brother like his nurse just like Nemi did with ma. He knows Sanemi hates him for it. Insists that he isn't weak and he doesn’t need his weakling of a baby brother taking care of him. That he should focus on his own damn life. As if Genya’s life was worth anything now.
He promised he’ll take care of his family and that’s what he’ll do. Even if he’s the only one to keep that promise.
But Genya can’t stay here. Can’t watch him wither away like ma.
Sometimes he wonders if staying here is still worth it. If Sanemi is still worth it. He is, he reminds himself. Sanemi is worth everything. But maybe Genya’s not the one who should be trying to get through to him. And at the crossroads of his life, he makes his decision.
On a plain old Monday, wearing his brother's hand-me-downs; jeans ripped, with speckles of dried blood from when Sanemi fought illegal matches for a quick buck. With a backpack on his shoulder and no place to go, Shinazugawa Genya steps into the world. Guitar in hand, he leaves his brother for the great big nothing. A big black hole in his destination.
His big brother moves to the big city where he doesn't belong. Where life demands more from him than he’ll ever be able to give. But his brother gives. And gives and gives and gives until there’s nothing left of him to give. On the second Wednesday of every month, Genya finds himself an atm because Sanemi never could stop sending him money. Sometimes he deludes himself into thinking it’s enough to say his brother still loves him. And still Genya keeps wandering. He has no home now.
He's plucking his guitar in some run down bar for a few dollars the next time he gets a call. He tells the keeper he’ll take the call out back. And it’s in the dark alley behind the bar that he’s told his brother is in a hospital for fatigue; out in the big city where he can get no sleep. Just the way he likes. Just to tire himself out so badly he forgets Genya ever called him a killer. Too tired to eat. Too tired to stop. Too tired to care.
There's an old ache in his chest and a sting in his eyes. But he doesn't cry. Doesn't think he has the right to it. Not when his brother is like this because of him. Sanemi said this is what he wanted. Who is Genya to deny him that? So he waits for the call that tells him his brother is safely out of the hospital and doesn’t let himself cry over his stubborn ass; instead, he takes his bag and his guitar and keeps moving. The soles on his shoes, littered with holes.
He meets a woman with hair the same shade of red as the best friend he left behind and doesn’t think too hard on why it breaks his heart a little. Her red lipped smile is nothing short of sweet and the sparkle in her eyes promise mischief. Smoke filled the air, his lungs and his mind in the most recent jazz dive he found himself in. He smiles back at her from behind his guitar and she waits for his song to finish. If Sanemi were here he'd throw a fit, a curfew and a missing person’s report. And maybe that’s why, when she takes Genya by the wrist he follows her.
He always falls too quickly, too easily that even Sanemi would take it on himself to swoop in and ruin all his relationships. No one was ever good enough for him. Genya tells himself he doesn't miss it. It's not even one month before she moves on to the next naive nobody strumming his sad guitar in the same run down bar she found him.
He sighs and moves on.
On one normal Wednesday, when the roads were too hot and dusty, he finds himself an atm under the shade of an old gas station. He’d been working at the farms, the muscles in his arms building from the strain of hard labour. His guitar, unstrung and out of tune, gathers dust in old man Himejima’s barn. It’s a normal Wednesday, the second week of the month when Sanemi would’ve sent money to prove he still cares.
It’s a normal Wednesday but it stops Genya in his tracks. Jaw slack, mouth open in disbelief. Straw of barley falling out of his gaped mouth before he can pull himself together. He sighs. Sanemi sent him too much, he thinks. Maybe he got too sleepy and a few too many extra zeroes got tacked on at the end of his usual amount. He tries to call his brother but no luck; likely too busy working himself to death. Once again Sanemi has no time for anything, least of all his little brother.
A lawyer hunts him down before Genya can even believe Sanemi meant to send that much money. The man shows him a piece of paper with his brother’s signature on it. It’s the first time in years he’s seen visual proof of his brother’s existence; and it’s on a piece of parchment paper reading his last will and testament.
Overwork. Fatigue. Burnout. Just like ma.
The man sits in front of Genya, hands folded and solemn.
“In the event of an emergency, his bank would send a payout to an account of his choosing. He sent the money to you.”
”What?”
Sanemi leaves him with their old house his big brother could never bear to sell. He leaves him with enough money for Genya to stop wandering aimlessly and settle down. Enough to buy himself a new house and a car. Find a wife, have a couple kids. It's enough to get the life they’d always dreamed of. Sanemi who never married. Never spent his money on anything frivolous. Sanemi who had broken his promise when their younger brothers and sisters died. He broke his promise to take care of each other together and took care of Genya on his own. Far, far away from him.
He’s been sick a long time. Genya's been gone a long time.
“How long?” He kind of hates the way his voice is coarse and weak. “How long has he known?”
“Couple of years kid. Since the accident. His test results came back strange.”
“Why did he…” he trails off, not entirely sure he wants to hear the answer.
The man hears the question anyway. “Treatment costs a lot of money.”
“But-“ he looks desperately at the paper in front of him. “He had money! A lot of it.”
“That he wanted to leave for you.”
“That fucking- why couldnt that idiot ever choose him!”
And he left him. Left him to suffer on his own. Maybe if he disappeared better, Sanemi would’ve used that money on himself. Maybe if he didn’t call him once a month, Sanemi would forget he exists. Knowing his brother, maybe not.
The man shuffles more paper, slipping one out of the pile to hand to him. Genya absently grabs at it, because he’s polite and it seems like the right thing to do on this day of so many wrongs.
“There’s also the life insurance payout.”
“Life…” Genya can barely get any words out now. Can barely move, his body feeling lethargic and lightheaded.
“He's been paying that insurance knowing one day it'll be able to set you up for a good long time.”
“I don't want this,” he says, defeated. “I want my brother.”
He buries his face in his hands like he did back at the hospital; when he found out the rest of their siblings were dead. But there’s no Sanemi to comfort him this time.
“Then I’ll take you to him.”
“What? To his grave?”
“Your brother’s still alive, kid.”
And all his silent composure, that heavy weight in his heart that keeps him muted bursts out in words he can’t ever control as he scrambles across the table to wring the man's neck.
“Why didn’t you start with that!”
“Sorry! Sorry!”
“Fuck!” He yells into the air, fat tears rolling down his face.
There's something irritating about this man. Reminds him of his best friend in the way his eyes light up and he fumbles in apology wearing that stupid smile on his face. “Ah, I took his paperwork and went to find you.”
“Fuck you! Is that even legal?”
“I’m not really a lawyer kid.”
He throws the irritating man to the ground. “Yeah I figured. You don’t look like a,” he peeks at the name beside his brother’s signatures, “‘Kanae’.”
The man smiles. “Name’s Masachika. But you can call me aniki.”
“No thank you,” he seethes, pacing the floor in an attempt to calm down. “So, what?” Make conversation, what a great idea. “Did you steal this from her office?”
“No. She gave it to me.” He says proudly with his whole chest out.
”Right.” He scrubs the tears from his eyes like a little kid. “She’s in on this too?” What is he supposed to say to that? Thanks for looking out for Sanemi because I didn’t want to?
”Hey,” the man’s voice changes to something gentle, kind. Like his brother used to when they were kids crying over scraped knees. “It’ll be ok. We’ll get through to him.”
Genya knows he must look ridiculous with his eyes wide and his eyebrows pinched. He feels like a kid.
”I've tried. He doesn't listen.” Digs his knuckles into his burning eyes. “I know I shouldn’t say it, but- it's just…”
“Easier to give up?”
“Yes.”
It's not that Sanemi makes it easy to give up on him. No matter how hard his big brother tries to get rid of him, Genya would never give up on Sanemi. But the sob that breaks out of him feels a little like relief.
He takes his bag, his dusty old guitar and heads home. Wherever that may be. Wherever his big brother finds himself, that’s where he’ll go. A destination for once in his life.
The car he gets in is the nicest he’s seen in a long while. But as it rolls back through the places he’s been, Genya sits in a daze watching the life he lived go by. Until the grassy pastures turn to quaint little houses, turn to high rises as the moon crawls through the sky. The big city lights pass by him and all he can do is watch through a window of a life that never belonged to him. There’s an odd beauty to the big city lights. A slow kind of sadness seeing the stars that man made light up the nights. The fast paced energy of people walking by, the tiredness on their faces. The closed off look in their eyes.
Just like his brother’s eyes when he finally sees him again. Half sitting on a hospital bed, tubes stuck to his arms.
“Why are you here?” He's glaring, voice raspy and tired and angry.
“I didn’t want you to die.” He fiddles with his hands that won't stop shaking. That longs to hold his brother and be held by him. But he’s not a kid and neither is Sanemi. “Stop sending me money,” he says resolutely, unable to look him in the eye. “I’ll get out of your hair, I’ll stop contacting you. Just- dont die.”
Sanemi takes a deep breath and sighs, rubbing his palm over his face.
“You want to break contact so I won't be forced to take care of you? You think I did all this because I don't want to know about you?”
“You made me believe it was my fault.”
“Good. Fucking stay away from me.”
“I want to know you too.” He steps closer to the bed. “I want to know you're okay. But if you're not okay because you're choosing to take care of me then fine. I'll walk away. You won't ever see me again.”
“Stop-”
“You won’t ever have to send me money.”
“Genya, shut up! That’s not what I want!”
“What exactly do you want!”
“To die Genya! I want to die! Is that clear enough for you!”
Genya can’t do anything but shuffle his feet.
“If can just die and be done with it-“ he shakes his head like it’s just an ordinary Wednesday and some jackass ruined production at work. “But my insurance doesn’t cover suicide so now I'm just… waiting.”
”We’ll figure something out. I want to help you.”
“No.”
”Sanemi!-“
”God Genya, get a life! Start over for fucks sake!”
“I tried that,” he sighs loudly. “This isn’t working, nii-chan.” He looks at him, pleading. Giving him his best impression of a kicked puppy, just like he used to. Hoping he’ll give in. “Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?”
Red eyes glare at him from the bed, his brother’s lips shake. “I’m tired.”
He whimpers, Genya’s eyes well with tears from his brother’s trembling confession. “Then rest. But with me. You dont have to do this alone. Stop taking care of me and we'll start taking care of you.”
“I can’t do that-“
“Why not?”
“Because I have to take care of you. Look at you; you're the last baby I have.”
He holds his big brother like Sanemi used to do for him whenever he was upset. He rocks him side to side, soothing him while his own heart breaks. He grabs him and holds him like he's been wanting to for years. His brother used to be so big. But now he feels so small in this hospital bed. So small in his arms.
His struggles are becoming weaker. His big brother sobbing in his arms. It feels like hours that he holds him like this.
“I can’t go home,” his big brother whispers, so quiet Genya almost missed it.
“Why not? It’s our house.”
“You remember the door jamb by the kitchen? Where ma used to measure our heights?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s still there,” he whispers, something haunted in his voice. He whispers because he doesn’t have much breath for anything else. Because he’d had the breath stolen from his lungs ever since that night he was told they didn’t survive. “They’re still there. They’ll never get any taller.”
Genya rubs his back. “You think I’d be happy if you died too?” If anything, it would be better if Genya went off and disappeared. Maybe then his big brother would finally start taking care of himself instead of constantly worrying about Genya's whereabouts.
“I don’t know what else to do.”
They make plans to sell the old house because they can't bear the memories. Genya's accusation, dad's beatings. Mom's tears, the kids’ laughter. The years it took for that gap between them to widen until they couldn't bear to jump the spaces between them. It’s all interwoven into the fabric of their broken home. Seeps into their skin whenever they think of the old house. Like the smell of old rust and mildew that lingers long after the rain.
So they pack their bags, sell their furniture and leave the big city headed anywhere. Headed nowhere. Headed towards any future they might still be able to salvage.
And they wander. Side by side, they wander.