Chapter Text
They bounded around him.
"Aniki! Aniki!" they cried, pulling and tugging at him relentlessly. Within minutes he was dragged down the street, pushed towards one of the houses and ushered inside, shoes tripping off. A girl grabbed his sleeve and hurried him up the stairs. A door faced him at the end of the hall, small hands failing to budge the knob.
"Hey what are you doing?" Whose room was this? He wasn't about to intrude in some random kid's bedroom. Did the parents even know he was here? But the path behind him was blocked with children, and when he turned back the girl was sobbing.
"Aniki, please," she wailed.
"Alright, alright—Don't start crying."
The door swung open to a master bedroom, bathed in darkness. Curtains were all drawn, lights off and, given the stench, the windows were probably all closed too. A mess of medicine bags lay scattered across the floor, a bunch of them preventing the door from hitting the wall. Tucked to the very corner was a bed, the figure of a small child bulging from the blanket.
Not wanting to intimidate them, he sat himself on the edge, kicking away the mess by his feet. The girl pushed herself onto the bed frame and rested a feeble hand over the bed lump. It breathed unsteadily beneath her palm. She shouted.
"She's going to die."
"What?"
"Please Aniki. She can't die. I don't want my sister to die," Her voice broke horribly as she sobbed. Akito was stunned. She's going to die? What did these kids want him to do?
"Shut up. She's not going to die." A boy emerged from the crowd, his features furrowed. "She's just sick. Mama said so."
"She's lying! She's just saying that. Our sister is dying, she's really dying."
"You're saying that because you want her to die. Don't lie."
She ran over to him screeching and tugged him by the shirt. "I don't want her to die, you do. You're happy because—because mama will play with you now."
He knocked her away. They fell, wrestling each other on the floor.
"They're going to get medicine. She's not going to die!"
The screams got louder, both trying to push each other off. Akito pulled them apart before they ended up doing something stupid. They barked at each other, arms flailing before being dropped back onto their feet.
"Aniki help!"
"Aniki don't listen to her—"
Akito held his head in place, preventing another attack. The boy looked up at him in frustration, making a face.
Akito let him go, bringing his attention back to the girl. Gently, he pulled the blanket back to check for symptoms.
What the…
She was small. Like, really small. Twelve months at most. No wonder they were worried, a bad cough was enough to kill a child this young, never mind a full-blown fever.
How long had she been holed up like this? Where were the parents? Who the hell just leaves a sick child home alone with her adolescent siblings? He searched the room for something to help. Piles of paper bags with bottles and prescriptions littered the floor, how these kids got all this medicine was beyond him. He picked up the one closest to his feet and scanned the label. He peered in. Inside were multiple stacks of various pain-killer bottles, all of them open. All of them empty.
He snapped around. "How much did you give her?" They returned his horror, looking between themselves and stumbling over their own words.
"We tried feeding her!"
"She wouldn't take any!"
"We tried to show her it was safe but—!" Before she could finish her mouth opened and she threw up onto the floor—"But she wouldn't listen," she finished through dripping bile.
What? He called for someone to get a tissue but just as he did the boy threw up as well, with even more bile and food chunks splattering the floor.
"Ha, told you I ate more."
"No you didn't."
"Yes I did."
"Nuh uh."
"Yeah I—agh!"
Akito called down for the kid to bring more tissue. The children scattered around in disarray, some laughing, som gagging, some running around and chasing each other—Were they playing tag?!
Suddenly the baby started thrashing around in the blanket, kicking it off herself and jostling him in the process. He picked it up as she kicked herself over, covering her only halfway.
His attention turned back to the siblings, only to see the group had brought the entire kitchen roll upstairs and were tearing off pieces like it was candy, shouting over one another on who was going to give it to aniki.
A baby with high fever, a children running around the room, using the house to play hide-and-seek, a group anxiously huddled in the corner and two kids that had downed a bunch of pain-killers. Everywhere he looked there was a massive mess and it was up to him—the sixteen year old—to be the trusted adult of the situation.
Think. He was starting to get a headache. The screams and fighting and running and crying and gagging was loud. The wind pushed back the curtain, midday light flooding in through the glass. The smell of opened medicines mixed in his nose and tongue, making him choke. Think, think, think. Something shattered downstairs, the siblings were brawling on the floor again. The stench of the vomit infiltrated his senses. Think, think, think. Think, he needed to think. What should he do? What was he—
The front door clicked open.
…God damn it.
"Are you seriously that tired?"
Ena took a bag off his arms, irritated. "I thought you liked doing that street music stuff. Don't tell me you got bored."
"I didn't." He grunted as she dislodged another hanger from his hands. Whether or not he was tired didn't make a difference. "I was looking after some old musician's kid."
She stared at him through the mirror.
"Kaa-san made me do it."
The smirk remained as she removed the hair clips. "What were they like?"
"Who?"
"The kid…? Did you think I was talking about you?"
"No. It was fine. He drew a little. Cried a lot."
"Probably thought you were scary."
"Shut up. No one told me was afraid of heights."
"How could you not know something like that? You need to pay attention if you're looking after kids." She threw the pack into the bag.
"It's not like I wanted to do it in the first place."
"It couldn't have been that bad. What, did he call you aniki as well?"
His face flushed deep red. How the hell did she know about that?
She wrangled away another bag with a laugh. "Those kids come to our house asking for 'aniki' everyday. I thought it was some kind of trend but then." The bag in front of his face shifted, revealing a smug smile. He scowled.
Today was surprisingly busy, both cashiers working double their wages' worth at the tills. Despite the longer line, Ena went to the one closer to the window. He lugged behind, staring out at the glass floor of the mall.
Toya would hate it here, he thought. Then again, Toya's family didn't seem the type to shop at the community mall. The kid probably had all his outfits tailor-made and food made by world class chefs and whatever else rich kids bought. Not including toys.
The mall erupted with volume as more people flooded in, most being students. A head of hair he could swear was Kohane's moved through the crowd, which meant An was probably there too. If he was lucky they wouldn't find him, she would never let him live this down.
His thoughts dulled as the dresses beeped through the scanner. The ruckus was even louder near the door. Thousands of voices laughing and shouting and screaming melding together in a cacophony of boisterous babble. It wasn't like the roar of the crowds at vivid street. Bright, vibrant, full of energy. This was nothing. Nothing but meaningless noise.
His heart swelled at the thought of Vivid Street again. How he'd give anything to be there instead. He peered over the barrier onto the floor below, picturing the people as a crowd at one of the events, lights flashing, voices booming, the announcer on the mic, introducing him to the stage. He imagined Souma and his team moving electric over the stage, Kotaro and his friends, voices pumping up the audience. He thought of the Vivids, dancing in sync, voices meshing together in eurythmic harmony, energy pulsing through their veins flooding down into the crowd.
Their new song had been phenomenal. He wanted to find out how they had done it, but neither had been able to come up with a satisfying answer. An claimed it was because Kohane had pushed her to do better, that seeing her sing had ignited something within her. Kohane said that they were a team, their voices gave each other power, that she was grateful to be encouraged and driven forward by her partner everyday.
That didn't help him. He couldn't depend on a partner like they could. He had thought time and time again about finding one but no one stuck. No one could match what he needed. It was probably for the best anyway, there were too many risks with having a singing partner. One might struggle keeping up with the other, their styles might outgrow each other, their visions for the performance may not align, the trust they'd need to have. Not to mention the possibility that whoever he worked with might end up losing passion for their dream. So much of a hassle and for what, a guy that might not even stick around? He'd just have to find his own way of moving forward.
But despite his decision, a part of him still felt empty. It was ironic. He was surrounded by singers and dancers and people who shared is passion yet he couldn't be more alone. He'd get dragged around by his sister and An, but it never felt like he was really going anywhere. Everyone would commend him after new performances, telling him how much better he had gotten, but it felt so stale. Even Ken-san's compliments had begun to fall flat. It was all just empty praise. Like he hadn't really accomplished anything. Sure he could keep winning competitions until the day he died, but what good was that if it didn't feel satisfying anymore? Where was that spark that he had felt that night? Deep down, a part of him was worried. He was scared—terrified, that he would surpass Rad Weekend and when he did, he would feel nothing. What good would any of their praise be then?
A group of excited children knocked him into the glass barrier. He balanced quickly, pushing the clothes and accessories back into their bags. They looked…ridiculously expensive.
"Are you sure you can you afford all these?" This kind of fabric alone went for a bucket-load, never-mind the stitching and patterns that probably took both the seamstress's arms out of commission. But she didn't listen, already focused on one of the other stores.
"You said you drew with him?"
"Yeah."
"On what?"
"On my phone? What's wrong—oomph!"
She off-loaded her bags into his arms, briskly entering…the stationary store? By the time he finished comfortably readjusting the bags she took them off him again, handing him an art kit and paper. He blinked in bewilderment. She rolled her eyes, nudging the supplies into his hand. "What is it now?" he grumbled. They had plenty of art tools at home, surely he could just borrow some of them.
"For the kid. He shouldn't have to draw on your sorry excuse of a phone."
Of course. He adjusted the lone bag he had left over his shoulder, stuffing the gift inside. This stuff was important to her. He supposed did the same thing whenever there was a bad singer on the mall speakers or a horrible selection of vinyls in the music store. Stuff that seemed trivial to everyone else but meant a lot to the ones who cared.
They descended the mall stairs, fighting through flocks of people to get to the exit. The cold air hit them like a truck the second they stepped outside . The days were getting shorter so the sky was almost all dark by the time they left school. They could see their breaths puff out before them, feet crunching on the frosted roads. Bright streetlamps aided the fading light, illuminating the car park in swatches of amber and white. If they stayed any longer it would probably start snowing. In the distance, for a brief moment, they caught a bus turning the corner. The one they were meant to take home.
Akito took off without a second thought, Ena shouting after him.
"The next bus isn't for another hour," he panted, closing in on the road. "Hurry."
For a moment he panicked, worrying Ena wouldn't follow. Then icy footsteps scurried behind him, heading towards the edge of the pavement. The man turned green just as they arrived, rushing them across as the bus took another turn.
They sped past the rows of shops, constantly having to dodge the bins and trees and streetlamps planted across the path. Akito hopped onto the road edge when the wind knocked the trash off the top of a bin. Ena was about to chastise him before following suit, determining it was the better option. The bags crinkled from where they beat their bodies, clothes desperately trying not to fall out. His phone vibrated in his pocket, sending signals into his leg.
They ran into their own breaths, ice crunching beneath the leather soles of their school shoes. The biting wind and inviting glow of shops combined with the twinkling of the night sky mixed into something warm inside their chests so without warning, laughter began to bubble up out of their throats, puffing into the winter night air. They turned the last corner, spotting their bus slowly coming to a halt at the end of the road. With whatever they had left they dashed to their stop, giggling and sniffling as they approached the road end, sliding in front of the door just as the person in front finished scanning their card. The guy looked back at them perplexedly as they huffed in bouts of laughter. Ena went first, tapping both their tickets and, just like that, they were on.
They sagged in the back, shoulders sighing from the release of weight, bags limp on the seats. The doors closed and the bus started up again, taking them home.
Both relaxed for a while, regaining their breaths, gazes fixed on either window as the white street lights strobed past. The low chatter cushioned his ears as he tried resting his head against the window, immediately pulling back from the cold. The fog on the glass dissolved and reappeared next to their mouths until their breaths were finally even.
"What happened at that house?" Ena asked suddenly.
Akito hummed, still tired.
"Yesterday. All those kids pulled you over. What happened?"
Oh. "Someone's sister was sick. They brought me over thinking I could help."
"Did you?"
He grunted, repositioning himself into a straighter position. "I tried keeping her warm. Then some other kids threw up and the others made a mess."
"I heard the parents came home and saw you."
Akito shook his head. "Just the kids. They opened the door and ran outside. Probably got bored in the house." He sighed, leaning back into the seat. "I asked the neighbours to call the parents and get them to the hospital. They took care of the rest."
"Who let you babysit again?"
"Beats me."
The relaxed again for a few more minutes. Then,
"Is… your phone ringing?"
"Huh? Oh—"
He pulled it out, looking at the caller.
Kaa-san
He quickly put it to his ear and lowered his voice. "Kaa-san?"
"Akito! Where are you?"
"I'm with Ena. We're on the bus, coming back."
"Does the bus stop by the Aoyagi's house?"
"Huh? Where's that?"
"Toya's mother called again. They have another trip away from home. Can you look after him again?"
He froze. There was no way.
"Do I have to?"
"They're short on time. They need someone now."
"…Alright. I'll go," he groaned.
"Thank you. I'll have cheesecake ready for you when you get home." She hung up. Ena piped in at the mention of cheesecake.
"You're getting cheesecake? What? Are you taking care of that kid again?"
His frown was answer enough. She suppressed a snort.
"Don't."
"I didn't say anything." She leaned back as the bus stopped, more people coming in. "Are they close?"
He groaned, begrudgingly opening his phone to check. Surprisingly they were pretty close, only a ten minute walk from the next stop.
"Here." She moved the bags over to her side, leaving him with the one containing the art supplies. He raised an eyebrow. "Get it back to me after. I'm carrying enough." She was being oddly generous. "Just make sure nothing happens to it or you're dead." That was more like it. He nodded and turned back to the view.
The bus was almost filled by the time they got to his stop. They made quick good byes, him grabbing the bag and thanking the driver as he left. The warm light of the bus glazed over his back as the doors closed, leaving him alone once again.
Bitterly he pulled out his phone, the address auto-filling onto the map. Not too far. If he walked fast he could make it in six minutes max—not that he was particularly excited to be there.
Nevertheless he plugged in his earphones and trudged towards his fate, absorbing every decibel of sound from his playlist before he would have to be subjected to that god-awful piano again. How that kid stayed sane was beyond him. Or maybe he wasn't. He didn't care. The sooner this was over, the better.
Written by a human in Ellipsus.