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The hallway felt a mile long, the air shimmering with a heat that didn't belong in the drafty building. Jeff was running before he even realized his feet were moving, his small heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs.
He hadn't meant to see it. He didn’t even know Kenta was there. He’d been told, more like warned, to stay away from the older boys, especially Kenta. "He isn't your brother when the others are watching," Tony had barked months ago. "He’s a guard. You are a student. Don't blur the lines."
But the lines hadn't just blurred; they had shattered.
When Jeff touched his brother, the world had suddenly shifted. He saw stairs, but he wasn’t on the stairs. He saw Kenta sitting there, his shoulders slumped, and Pete sitting right against his back. They were laughing like they always do.
Jeff had frozen, his breath catching, as the "future" Kenta turned. The conversation was a murmur Jeff couldn't catch, but the look on Kenta’s face was one of absolute, terrifying tenderness. Then, the lean… the soft, deliberate press of lips against Pete’s.
The vision snapped shut like a book, leaving Jeff staring at his brother, who just shooed him away. So he ran. He ran toward the heavy oak door of his father’s study, his small hands slick with sweat as he shoved it open.
"Dad! Dad, something happened!"
Tony didn't look up from the ledger at first. He was mid-calculation, a pen hovering over a column of figures. "Jeff, I told you I’m busy…"
"I saw Kenta," Jeff gasped, his voice high and thin. He didn't mention the kiss, he didn't have the words for it, only the soul-deep shock of seeing his brother break the rules of their cold world. "I saw him on the stairs. But he wasn't on the stairs. I ran into him and then I saw him on the stairs, but he was still standing in front of me."
The pen in Tony’s hand snapped.
He looked up, and for a fleeting second, Jeff thought he saw the Dad he wanted, the one who would pick him up and tell him it was okay to be scared. But the look in Tony’s eyes shifted instantly. It wasn't warmth; it was the sharp, predatory gleam of a jeweler finding a diamond in the coal.
"You saw him before he arrived?" Tony stood slowly, his presence looming over the desk like a shadow. "Premonition. Genuine foresight." He walked around the desk, his boots clicking with a finality that made Jeff want to shrink. "My boy… do you know what this means?"
Tony’s hands came down on Jeff’s shoulders, heavy and possessive. "Kenta has a job here, Jeff. A good one, but he is just a tool. You, on the other hand…"
As Tony spoke to him, the visions flared again, unbidden and cruel.
Jeff didn't see the study. He saw a cold, industrial hall. He saw his friends around him. They were standing in a line, their heads bowed, numbered tags pinned to their chests. And he was also in the line, standing right beside them, his hand being held up by Tony like a prize trophy at an auction. His father wasn't protecting them; he was price-tagging them.
The heavy, possessive weight of Tony’s hands felt like lead. Jeff wrenched himself backward, the movement so sudden it startled a sharp "Jeff!" from his father’s lips. He didn't stay to hear the rest. He scrambled out of the office, his small socks skidding on the polished floorboards, his breath coming in jagged, wet hitches.
He needed his room. He needed his bed and the covers he could pull over his head to make the world, and the visions, go away.
But as he tore around the corner toward the residential wing, he collided with something solid. Strong arms caught him before he could hit the floor.
“Jeff? Hey, look at me," Kenta said, dropping to one knee so he was eye-level with the sobbing seven-year-old. "You’re shaking. Did he... did he hit you?"
"No," Jeff choked out, burying his face in Kenta’s chest. The smell of Kenta was safe, laundry soap and sweat from the gym, nothing like the tobacco and old paper of the study. "I saw... I saw the future, I think. But it was bad. Dad was there. He was selling people. He was selling me."
Kenta went perfectly still. He’d spent years watching the children come and go, watching his father trade in lives like they were currency. He’d always been the useless son, the one without powers, relegated to being a bodyguard because he was nothing more than muscle. He’d lived with the hope that Jeff would at least be spared the filth of their father’s business.
"He was happy," Jeff wailed, his small hands bunching Kenta’s shirt into tight knots. "He wasn't sad I was in the line. He was proud of the price."
Kenta’s jaw set so hard it ached. He pulled Jeff into a fierce, protective hug, shielding the boy’s head with his hand. He knew exactly what Jeff had seen. He’d seen the ledger books. He knew their father didn't have a heart; he had a bottom line.
"Listen to me, Jeff," Kenta whispered, his voice low and vibrating with a protective heat. "Whatever you saw… it’s not gonna happen."
Jeff pulled back, his eyes wide and red-rimmed. "But…"
"I know what you saw looked real," Kenta corrected gently, wiping a tear from Jeff’s cheek with his thumb. "But listen... Daddy would never do that to you."
Kenta leaned in closer, his expression softening into something Jeff had never seen from him before, true, unvarnished tenderness.
"I can’t change what you saw. But I would never let him do that. Not to my baby brother." He tapped Jeff lightly on the chest. "I’ll always protect you. No matter what happens."
Jeff let out a shaky breath, the terror receding just an inch. "But what if you’re not here anymore? What if you leave with Pete?"
“P-Pete?” Kenta stuttered for a moment, his heart racing. “I’m not going anywhere with Pete. We have jobs to do here. We have… responsibilities.”
"But you don't want them," Jeff insisted, his voice small but certain. He let go of Kenta’s shirt, his hands dropping to his sides. "Nobody would want to stay here."
"I am never leaving you behind," Kenta said, his voice regaining a sudden, fierce steel. He dropped back down to his knees and gripped Jeff’s hands, grounding the boy. "Do you hear me? If I go, you go. I don't care what you saw in your head. I’m the big brother. I decide what happens to us, not some pictures of a future that hasn't happened yet."
He pulled Jeff back into the hollow of his shoulder, shielding him from the view of the hallway. He could feel Jeff’s small, rapid heartbeat against his own, the boy finally beginning to relax under the promise of protection.
"I’ll always protect you," Kenta murmured, his breath warm against Jeff’s hair. "But you have to help me. You can’t tell him about the line. If he asks what your power showed you, give him crumbs. Never give him all the details."
Jeff nodded against his chest, a small, fragile movement. "Just crumbs. I promise."
"Good." Kenta stood up, keeping his hand firmly in Jeff’s. "Now, go to your room. I’m going to go find Pete. We need to... we need to talk."
As Jeff retreated down the hall, looking smaller than ever, Kenta watched him go with a heavy sense of dread. He had spent his whole life trying to be the perfect, invisible shield for a father who didn't love him. Now, he had to learn how to be a shield against him.
-
The air in Jeff’s room felt cooler than the hallway, but it couldn't chill the warmth radiating off Kenta. When Kenta stepped through the door, his movements were lighter, the usual tension in his shoulders replaced by a softness that Jeff had only ever seen in his vision of the stairs.
Jeff looked up from his rug, his heart sinking. The vision had come true. Kenta and Pete had found that "somewhere else" happiness, and to Jeff, that just meant the countdown to Kenta leaving had started.
"Hey, kiddo," Kenta said, sitting cross-legged on the floor. He reached out and ruffled Jeff’s hair. "Something happen? Dad's still in his office, so he's not coming in here tonight. You're safe."
"Is he always this mean?" Jeff asked, his voice a tiny thread. "Did he always want to... to sell things?"
Kenta’s smile faltered, a shadow of the old guard-dog expression returning. He leaned back against the bed frame. "No. Not always. There was a time, back when you were really small, just a baby, he used to be... different. He used to laugh. Like, real laughing, not that shark-grin he does now."
Jeff tilted his head. "What changed?"
"Business, I guess," Kenta sighed. "And whenever BonBon goes away, the house gets colder. Dad's always at his best when BonBon is around."
"BonBon," Jeff repeated the name like a prayer. He’d heard the stories. His other father was always on a grand adventure. "I wish he’d come back soon. I want to go on adventures with him. Maybe he’d take us away from here."
Kenta’s expression softened into something heartbreakingly tender. "Maybe he would, Jeff. I hope he does too."
They talked for a long time about nonsense, about the dogs in the neighborhood and the way the clouds looked like dragons, until Jeff’s eyes started to droop. Kenta stood up, stretching his tired limbs.
"Alright, time for sleep. I’ve got first watch in the morning," Kenta said. He reached down and pulled Jeff into a massive, rib-crushing hug. "I’m right down the hall, okay? No matter what."
The moment Kenta’s arms wrapped around him, the world didn't just double… it shattered.
Jeff’s gasp was swallowed by the fabric of Kenta’s shirt as a violent, high-speed blur of images scorched his mind.
He saw Kenta and Pete in a dark corridor, their faces twisted in a silent, screaming argument. Pete turned his back, walking out the door and into the rain, leaving Kenta standing alone in the dark.
Then the images skipped like a broken film. He saw Kenta sitting on the edge of a bed, his frame changing, his stomach growing heavy and round. He was hiding, crying in the dark.
Then, a flash of white light: Kenta was holding a small, bundled shape, a baby. His face was full of the same look Jeff had seen on the stairs, a pure, radiant love. But a shadow fell over them. Tony’s hand reached into the frame, snatching the bundle away.
The final image was the worst. He saw Kenta years from now. He was tall, scarred, and his eyes were like chips of ice. He looked just like Tony. The warmth was gone. His brother was gone.
Kenta pulled away, sensing the sudden rigidity in Jeff’s small body. "Jeff? You okay? Did you see something else?"
Jeff stared at his brother, his breath coming in shallow, terrified pants. He looked at Kenta’s flat stomach, then up at his kind eyes, and felt a grief so profound it made his chest ache. He couldn't tell him.
"Just... just…," Jeff stuttered, his voice trembling. "Don't go, Kenta. Please don't ever go."