Work Text:
Scribbling just the first few lines, Kunikuzushi crumpled the paper up, and threw it into the concerningly ever-growing pile of abandoned attempts at the essay on his desk.
He sighed heavily, burying his face in his hands. This isn't working.
He was supposed to submit a six hundred word essay by midnight, one that he hasn't even been able to start on yet. A quick glance to the clock tells him it's 9:23PM.
To be fair, his teacher did give them all two months to finish the stupid paper, but with Kunikuzushi's talent at procrastinating, he somehow ended up with less than three hours to complete it.
Pushing his indigo bangs out of his face, he picked up his pen, and took out a another sheet of paper.
'The Knights of Favonius is the order of knights that protects Mondstadt, founded by Vennessa with the help of Barbatos 1,000 years ago, to prevent aristocrats from ruling the land, as Barbatos originally intended...'
He paused. Who was this Vanessa again? Kunikuzushi groaned, dropping the pen with a soft click and leaning against his chair, running his fingers through his hair. Why was he even studying history? He wasn't interested in the subject, for archons' sake! What would he do with this knowledge when he takes up robotic engineering in college? Make the robots recite the history of the three moon sisters?
Small, light footsteps interrupt his depressing internal monologue. He turned in his chair, a few strands of dark blue hair falling onto his face. Big, purple, and annoyingly hopeful eyes looked at him through the door he had left ajar.
"What do you want, Raiden?" Kunikuzushi huffed.
"Could I come in?" his younger sister asked quietly.
"Yeah, yeah, sure." he grumbled.
She stepped in, timidly. She was wearing her pajamas, a soft lilac two-piece set; loose pants and a long-sleeved top, with a subtle lightning bolt pattern scattered across the fabric in a slightly darker purple. The collar is wide enough that it always slips a little off one shoulder. And she was holding her little fox plush Yae had given her on her birthday. Kuni wasn't sure why the six year old wasn't asleep hours ago at her designated bed time, but he was never one to care. He turned back to his desk, fiddling with his pencil.
"Mama and Mom aren't back yet." she whispered, shuffling over to stand beside his chair.
"Yeah, and?" Kuni asked, moving his gaze to her. She looked scared, a bit too tired. Her violet hair was wild if that was one way to describe it. Strands of silky amethyst hair were tangled together in a messy-looking ponytail, and her bangs were haphazardly pinned to the side, as if she had done it herself.
She slid something onto his desk, something he hadn't noticed she'd been holding.
"No." he simply said, not bothering to look at the item. He already knew what it was from the pleading look on his sister's face.
"Please, Kuni? Pretty please?" she urged, looking at him with those stupid puppy eyes that had absolutely no effect on him.
"No way. You're not a baby, Raiden. Just go to sleep," he shrugged her off, grabbing another sheet of paper to presumably start his essay.
"Just one book?"
"I am not reading you a bed time story. End of discussion."
"But Kuni—" she began.
"No."
"Mama reads me two books." she grumbled, putting up three fingers.
"Good for her." he said, not bothering to correct her questionable counting skills.
"Kuni, please." she said, resorting to tugging on his sleeve.
"Can't you just stare at the ceiling until you fall asleep?" he huffed irritably.
A long silence. Raiden's gaze was downcast, a slight pout on her face. She kicked at the carpet with her foot quietly. She looked like what Kunikuzushi would assume a kicked puppy would.
"Fine." Kunikuzushi muttered, finally giving in.Those annoying pouty things she did always got to him, and the rascal knew it.
The smile she gave him was a bit too bright for nine o'clock in the evening.
"Stop wriggling so much," Kunikuzushi snapped quietly, trying to tame the mess on his little sister's head. Somehow, he'd gotten wrapped in brushing it for her when he noticed she kept trying to tie it back over and over with little to no success. When he finally got tired of it, he offered to help. Which Raiden accepted a little too eagerly.
"I don't like this brush," Raiden huffed, crossing her arms. "It pulls on my hair too hard."
"Well, too bad." he shot, but lessened his hold considerably. Once he was done, he inspected his work. He didn't have much experience with long hair, but he did his best; he had tied her hair into a low bun, and made sure her bangs were out of her face with (correctly-adjusted) hairpins. "Go pick out a book, I'll be there in a second." he said, as Raiden nodded happily and scurried off to her room.
"I'm reading you this book only, and I mean it." he started, sitting down onto the edge of the bed where she snuggled up in her blankets. "And no interrupting me. One word while I'm reading, and I'm done." he stared at her, and she only nodded, holding her fox plush tightly. It was a small, babypink fox plushie with button eyes and a little embroidered nose. It was starting to fade around the ears and paws; worn soft and pale from being held too many times to count, and its fur slightly flattened in the spots her small hands always found.
He sighed once again, and picked up the book.
He did everything he could to make her lose interest. The first paragraph he read at a crawl, dragging each word out until they barely resembled sentences anymore. For the second paragraph he blew through it at breakneck speed, barely pausing for punctuation. The third he delivered in a flat, droning monotone, no intenation, no variation, just a wall of sound designed to bore her into unconsciousness.
Raiden listened to all of it with the same attentive, unbothered expression. If he wasn't so annoyed right now, he might've been impressed.
He tried skipping lines. She noticed, and pointed at the page without a word.
He tried mispronouncing names. She didn't care.
He tried stopping mid-sentence to check his phone. She waited patiently for him to finish.
He eventually gave up trying.
He was somewhere in the middle of a paragraph about an architect and a scribe when a loud crack split through the quiet of the house, both of them jumped. Raiden made a small, frightened sound and grabbed the sleeve of his hoodie with both hands.
"It came from the hall," Kunikuzushi muttered, already standing.
She followed immediately, a small shadow on his heels as he pushed the door open and stepped out. The painting, the large one Ei had hung (unprofessionally, in his opinion), was on the floor, its frame slightly crooked. He stared at it for a moment, then exhaled through his nose.
"It just fell," he said flatly, looking down at the young girl currently latched to him.
Raiden said nothing, holding his sleeve. She was still trembling.
He let out a soft sigh, prying her fingers off him and hung it back up, adjusting it twice before it sat straight, and when he turned around she was still right there, eyes a little too wide, fox plush clutched to her chest.
"It's fine. Just the painting." He looked down at her. "Come on, Rai."
He walked her back to her room and moved to take his spot on the edge of the bed, but she pulled her blankets up and looked at him with an expression that left very little room for debate.
"Sit here," she said, patting the space beside her.
"I'm fine over here."
"Please." she said, for nearly the millionth time today.
He scoffed. But he sat down beside her anyway, back straight, like he was doing her a favour and wanted her to know it.
He opened the book again, but this time, without really deciding to, he read it differently. Slower in the right places, quieter when the story called for it. He gave the merchant a low, bumbling sort of voice and the bird something quick and bright. He didn't think about it too hard. It was easier not to. But it was safe to say that if someone heard this, they'd never let him hear the end of it. Though, looking at the bright smile on his sister's face, he supposed it was worth it. (though you couldn't make him admit it even at gunpoint).
Raiden listened without interrupting, her breathing slowing after a few pages. By the time he reached the halfway point, her head had drooped sideways and come to rest against his arm, her fox plush tucked under her chin.
He stopped reading.
He looked at her for a moment, her soft puffs of breath, the worn-down pink fox, the way her small hand had loosened around the fabric in sleep, and then looked away.
He should leave. Go back to his desk, his essay, his looming midnight deadline. He had maybe one and a half hour left, and six hundred words that weren't going to write themselves.
Even so, he didn't move.
He stared at the far wall instead. Thought, for no particular reason, about the family before this one. The one before that. The series of rooms that had never quite felt like his, the careful way he'd learned not to settle too deeply into any of them. Ei was kind enough. He knew that. But kindness from a distance was still distance. She was always working, always busy, her presence in the house more of an implication than a reality. He didn't blame her. He didn't feel much of anything about it, really. He didn't care. He hated Ei.
Or so he told himself.
Raiden shifted in her sleep, pressing slightly closer, her head still on his arm.
Kunikuzushi exhaled slowly through his nose and looked down at her once more. Perhaps this family wasn't so bad after all.
Then, without making a decision about it, he leaned back against the headboard. His arm settled around her small shoulders, loose and automatic, like it hadn't asked him first.
He closed his eyes.
The essay could wait.
BONUS SCENE
Yae spotted them first.
She leaned against the doorframe, taking in the scene with an unreadable expression, Kuni slumped against the headboard, book still loosely in hand, Raiden pressed into his side with her bun slightly lopsided from sleep.
Ei appeared beside her a moment later. She didn't say anything, just looked, and smiled. Quiet, tired and warm all at once.
Yae slipped into the room without a sound. She pulled the blanket up from the foot of the bed and drew it over both of them in one careful motion, tucking it loosely around Raiden's shoulders, then the older boy. He didn't stir.
She looked at him for just a moment longer than necessary before she turned and walked back out.
Ei pulled the door to, leaving it just slightly ajar the way Raiden liked it.
Neither of them said anything until they were back down the hall.