[ WELCOME HOME ]; kanba/shouma (FICTION)
Oct. 14th, 2012 06:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dupKanba hates it when he's forced to leave home for weeks at a time. Shouma hates it for him, hates being left alone. ( Read more... )
takakurakanba[ it's happened again.
kanba is a victim of constantly telling himself that this will be the last time he bickers, the last time he turns a cold shoulder to his sole sibling, the last time he takes him to bed with a forcefulness that would surely shock his former sixteen year-old self. he makes promises that he ends up failing to deliver on, and every subsequent morning—when he doesn't have to wake up alone—becomes the same sad story of never, ever.
where does it end? yesterday was a nauseating blur that he struggles to remember as he lies wide awake, eyes purposefully avoiding the lightly-battered boy next to him. shouma's endurance of it all is troubling unto itself. in spite of what he suffers, in spite of what he yells at kanba about, it doesn't deter him from his duty, doesn't deter him from getting tossed to and fro behind closed doors and curling up against his abuser nevertheless.
abuse. an ugly word, for certain. an ugly thing that kanba's doing.
never again. how does he get so carried anyway?
he lays at rest, face turned into a pillow that still smells strongly of sweat and other things that he'd prefer not to put a name to at present. something has to change here, all signs pointing towards him. they aren't the takakura brothers that they used to be, barely family, hardly even lovers. why? more importantly, what is it that kanba can do to change that?
the issue is far bigger than to simply say sorry and move on. a physical gesture, no matter how warm-hearted it may be, won't fix the damage done either. opening an eye, a hesitant hand reaches out across the space between them, pauses, then falls short of its mark. he doesn't deserve to touch shouma now, not after what's occurred. he sighs, shoving his face into the pillow completely, and wonders if he can just suffocate himself and leave it at that. having died once already, it obviously isn't the solution, but it stop him from wanting to defy fate one more time.
nothing. staying in bed isn't getting him anywhere.
with a second sigh on his lips he faces his bedmate at long last, watching the rise and fall of his form as his slumber continues, undisturbed. in the faint glow of the rising sun he notes many of the new bruises afflicted onto him; many of them are minor, prone to fade within a day or two, while others will remain to serve as stark reminders of what kanba shouldn't have done in the first place. biting and scratching in the throes of their passions isn't a new phenomena in the slightest, though it pales in comparison to the deliberate beating, pulling, and striking that is never meant to be.
guilt swarms over him. they can't keep doing this.
kanba, refusing to look any further, turns his eyes to the edge of their low-sitting bed where he witnesses a similar scene amongst a pair of penguins. penguin #1 appears equally distraught, repeatedly stroking its flipper over the back of #2, who refuses to stir. the sight encourages his unease, and he clambers to his feet, swept by the sudden urge to take flight far, far away from this room. he has an hour or two to spare before he'll have pressing business elsewhere in the city, so the least he can do is utilize that free time (an increasingly rare luxury) to the utmost.
he grabs something to cover himself with on his way out, ignoring the shape of a third penguin toddling at his heels as he steps into a pair of underwear, pulls a loose t-shirt over his head. since it's customary for him to be the second one in their humble home to rise and shine, he thinks might be a gesture of goodwill to prepare breakfast, save shouma the trouble of it, though his culinary prowess isn't quite so refined.
what to do? he isn't hungry for anything in particular, but he'd like to go a step above toast and jam, or other dishes that require an equal lack of effort on his part. it's not until his eyes sleepily follow penguin #3 waddling ahead of him into the kitchen that he makes a decision, inspired by the box that it's holding up for him. ]
Yes, yes... [ the response is automatic, seizing the proffered pancake mix and scratching his head. did he buy this in the past? shouma is often adamant about preparing dishes from scratch, so it couldn't have come from him. or could it?
crepes sound like a better idea than mere pancakes, so he shrugs it off, goes to work. having a dutiful penguin by his side—especially #3, who tends to be of minor use—allows the process to be a lot less cumbersome than it otherwise could be. in no time, kanba's arranged an array of both crepes and fruit, staring long and hard at shouma's potential plate. should he do something special for him, or leave it as it is...
he contemplates his decision whilst fetching the hot water for their tea. every so often he glances over his shoulder to the stairs that lead to their bedroom, hoping that shouma will emerge, hoping that he doesn't hate him as he brushes past. with no signs of activity, his heart sinks, returning to the tasks at hand.
clumsily he attempts an artful design for shouma's serving, heaving a heavy sigh when it doesn't turn out the way he wants it to. he doubts he'll receive any bonus points for creativity when he tries to create a penguin (and then a seahorse) out of cheese, berries, and various strips of the crepes he's made. ultimately it becomes a gigantic mess that he can neither salvage, throw away, or pass on to #2 if the creature ever manages to make an appearance.
#3 consoles him, leaving the plate behind for shouma while kanba eats alone. in vain he looks up to the staircase, wilts, and stares into the mug of tea that he's left untouched on the table. at this rate he may not have the chance to see him before he departs, which could be just as well, given the awkward nature of things during their morning after. ]
Is he gonna be mad...?
[ a softly-chirped kyu is the only answer that the penguin can provide him, diving into its own serving of tea. ]
kanba is a victim of constantly telling himself that this will be the last time he bickers, the last time he turns a cold shoulder to his sole sibling, the last time he takes him to bed with a forcefulness that would surely shock his former sixteen year-old self. he makes promises that he ends up failing to deliver on, and every subsequent morning—when he doesn't have to wake up alone—becomes the same sad story of never, ever.
where does it end? yesterday was a nauseating blur that he struggles to remember as he lies wide awake, eyes purposefully avoiding the lightly-battered boy next to him. shouma's endurance of it all is troubling unto itself. in spite of what he suffers, in spite of what he yells at kanba about, it doesn't deter him from his duty, doesn't deter him from getting tossed to and fro behind closed doors and curling up against his abuser nevertheless.
abuse. an ugly word, for certain. an ugly thing that kanba's doing.
never again. how does he get so carried anyway?
he lays at rest, face turned into a pillow that still smells strongly of sweat and other things that he'd prefer not to put a name to at present. something has to change here, all signs pointing towards him. they aren't the takakura brothers that they used to be, barely family, hardly even lovers. why? more importantly, what is it that kanba can do to change that?
the issue is far bigger than to simply say sorry and move on. a physical gesture, no matter how warm-hearted it may be, won't fix the damage done either. opening an eye, a hesitant hand reaches out across the space between them, pauses, then falls short of its mark. he doesn't deserve to touch shouma now, not after what's occurred. he sighs, shoving his face into the pillow completely, and wonders if he can just suffocate himself and leave it at that. having died once already, it obviously isn't the solution, but it stop him from wanting to defy fate one more time.
nothing. staying in bed isn't getting him anywhere.
with a second sigh on his lips he faces his bedmate at long last, watching the rise and fall of his form as his slumber continues, undisturbed. in the faint glow of the rising sun he notes many of the new bruises afflicted onto him; many of them are minor, prone to fade within a day or two, while others will remain to serve as stark reminders of what kanba shouldn't have done in the first place. biting and scratching in the throes of their passions isn't a new phenomena in the slightest, though it pales in comparison to the deliberate beating, pulling, and striking that is never meant to be.
guilt swarms over him. they can't keep doing this.
kanba, refusing to look any further, turns his eyes to the edge of their low-sitting bed where he witnesses a similar scene amongst a pair of penguins. penguin #1 appears equally distraught, repeatedly stroking its flipper over the back of #2, who refuses to stir. the sight encourages his unease, and he clambers to his feet, swept by the sudden urge to take flight far, far away from this room. he has an hour or two to spare before he'll have pressing business elsewhere in the city, so the least he can do is utilize that free time (an increasingly rare luxury) to the utmost.
he grabs something to cover himself with on his way out, ignoring the shape of a third penguin toddling at his heels as he steps into a pair of underwear, pulls a loose t-shirt over his head. since it's customary for him to be the second one in their humble home to rise and shine, he thinks might be a gesture of goodwill to prepare breakfast, save shouma the trouble of it, though his culinary prowess isn't quite so refined.
what to do? he isn't hungry for anything in particular, but he'd like to go a step above toast and jam, or other dishes that require an equal lack of effort on his part. it's not until his eyes sleepily follow penguin #3 waddling ahead of him into the kitchen that he makes a decision, inspired by the box that it's holding up for him. ]
Yes, yes... [ the response is automatic, seizing the proffered pancake mix and scratching his head. did he buy this in the past? shouma is often adamant about preparing dishes from scratch, so it couldn't have come from him. or could it?
crepes sound like a better idea than mere pancakes, so he shrugs it off, goes to work. having a dutiful penguin by his side—especially #3, who tends to be of minor use—allows the process to be a lot less cumbersome than it otherwise could be. in no time, kanba's arranged an array of both crepes and fruit, staring long and hard at shouma's potential plate. should he do something special for him, or leave it as it is...
he contemplates his decision whilst fetching the hot water for their tea. every so often he glances over his shoulder to the stairs that lead to their bedroom, hoping that shouma will emerge, hoping that he doesn't hate him as he brushes past. with no signs of activity, his heart sinks, returning to the tasks at hand.
clumsily he attempts an artful design for shouma's serving, heaving a heavy sigh when it doesn't turn out the way he wants it to. he doubts he'll receive any bonus points for creativity when he tries to create a penguin (and then a seahorse) out of cheese, berries, and various strips of the crepes he's made. ultimately it becomes a gigantic mess that he can neither salvage, throw away, or pass on to #2 if the creature ever manages to make an appearance.
#3 consoles him, leaving the plate behind for shouma while kanba eats alone. in vain he looks up to the staircase, wilts, and stares into the mug of tea that he's left untouched on the table. at this rate he may not have the chance to see him before he departs, which could be just as well, given the awkward nature of things during their morning after. ]
Is he gonna be mad...?
[ a softly-chirped kyu is the only answer that the penguin can provide him, diving into its own serving of tea. ]
takakurakanba[ ages have gone by since the last time the takakura twins were able to have a night off; or a night out, for that matter. kanba isn't proud of the bowing and scraping he had to do in order to make it happen, and he knows that after this, several more ages will pass before the opportunity rises again. but it's worth the effort, the long weeks he'll be spending alone with a penguin or two in two, if he's lucky. the punishment fits the crime.
he feels uneasy, but that's to be expected when the other, unmentionable side of his family is involved. as the seasons changed and he settled into his usual routine, he'd practically forgotten the dinner plans that hung over their heads, the conditions of letting an old piece of jewelery change hands. one phone call and the voice of his so-called sweet sister (masako...), however, changed all of that. not being one to break his commitments, a date was set. that date was now. ]
Tch... [ it's hard to be satisfied with the way he looks when he has the world to impress tonight. while hitting the town is nothing new, it tends to be done for its own sake, a means to kill time till kanba has to rush off, or his brother shouma is needed elsewhere. going through the motions of meeting important relatives—even just the one—showing shouma off, has him spiraling back into the shoes of the teenage boy he resembles all over again. he can remember getting introduced to plenty of young girls' parents at the tender age of sixteen, though in the majority of those cases it took place against his will.
sighing, he frowns at the mirror in front of him, straightens his tie. are these cufflinks too much? should he bother to wear or keep these accessories? he has yet to have a matching ring, though he guesses it doesn't matter too much to begin with...it wasn't a technical engagement, and he can only consider himself married to shouma in name only, thorny issues issues of being siblings aside. dwelling on that would put a damper on his cautiously positive mood, so he lets it go, ducks out of the room, and hovers near the stairs to take a glance down into the main house below.
a penguin stands in wait for him, rubbing at the bandage on its cheek while it points its flipper with a quiet gyu. kanba hardly questions why its dressed to the nines in a trailing tuxedo, though he has no idea why any of them would want to tag along, either. it isn't as if the oldest surviving member of the natsume family has any recollection of the creature that used to be at her side, anyway... ]
he feels uneasy, but that's to be expected when the other, unmentionable side of his family is involved. as the seasons changed and he settled into his usual routine, he'd practically forgotten the dinner plans that hung over their heads, the conditions of letting an old piece of jewelery change hands. one phone call and the voice of his so-called sweet sister (masako...), however, changed all of that. not being one to break his commitments, a date was set. that date was now. ]
Tch... [ it's hard to be satisfied with the way he looks when he has the world to impress tonight. while hitting the town is nothing new, it tends to be done for its own sake, a means to kill time till kanba has to rush off, or his brother shouma is needed elsewhere. going through the motions of meeting important relatives—even just the one—showing shouma off, has him spiraling back into the shoes of the teenage boy he resembles all over again. he can remember getting introduced to plenty of young girls' parents at the tender age of sixteen, though in the majority of those cases it took place against his will.
sighing, he frowns at the mirror in front of him, straightens his tie. are these cufflinks too much? should he bother to wear or keep these accessories? he has yet to have a matching ring, though he guesses it doesn't matter too much to begin with...it wasn't a technical engagement, and he can only consider himself married to shouma in name only, thorny issues issues of being siblings aside. dwelling on that would put a damper on his cautiously positive mood, so he lets it go, ducks out of the room, and hovers near the stairs to take a glance down into the main house below.
a penguin stands in wait for him, rubbing at the bandage on its cheek while it points its flipper with a quiet gyu. kanba hardly questions why its dressed to the nines in a trailing tuxedo, though he has no idea why any of them would want to tag along, either. it isn't as if the oldest surviving member of the natsume family has any recollection of the creature that used to be at her side, anyway... ]
dupSleeping isn't an option for Kanba. He knows that he's fighting a losing battle with his body, that he's pushed it more today than he normally would, but the need to gather his thoughts is almost as essential. Thankfully the exhausted boy beside him has already succumbed to slumber, so he won't need to worry about causing a disturbance as he rises from the futon they're in, reaches in the dark for something to cover himself up. He can't tell if the yukata that engulfs him is his or not, though it hardly matters. A selfish part of him hopes that it isn't, that he'll be able to take his sibling along in spirit when he steps out of their little hideaway. ( Read more... )
takakurashouko[ if shouko wanted to be honest, going to ringo's grandparent's (currently vacant) summer home after exams was the last thing she thought she'd be doing for the first week of her time off. she'd certainly heard about her best friend's trips in passing, but it wasn't like shouko ever invited herself along, not when her summers were spent working two or three jobs at a time. ringo had always been well aware of this, too, which is why she's baffled as to why the girl had been so insistent on her coming along.
what's even worse is that she also invited himari and kanba. while shouko always enjoys her sister's company, her brother was a more tricky person to work around, at least until just recently. she still doesn't like the large gaps in her memory, or how she now feels incredibly awkward around her twin. it's obvious that there was something bothering him as well, attempting in vain to chalk it up to something to do with the weird month that she can't quite recall the details of.
this is why shouko went out of her way to avoid her brother, always turning red in the face before babbling that she had a lot of homework to do, or that ringo wanted to spend some alone time with her, how she'll be staying with her for a weekend (or so) to study.
most of the excuses were blatant lies. she was certain that kanba had known all along.
the only relief she felt was the assumption of bedding with her schoolmate and sister, an emotion that was brutally smashed into a million pieces once she learned that that wouldn't be the case.
when the door is shut to her and kanba's room for the week, she stands there with a bewildered look on her face, just staring at the wall blankly. ]
... [ were they really going to be sharing a room together? shouko was pretty certain that the one ringo and himari were staying in could fit three, or so a short peek into it told her. it didn't make sense, she hadn't slept in the same room with kanba since their parents were around...
ah, this is going to be awkward, isn't it? they hadn't really spoken to each other very much in a handful of weeks, the act of verbal communication with kanba is still lost on her. still, she's going to try breaking the silence, tucking some hair behind her ears in a nervous manner, her other hand shifting the pack on her shoulder. ]
So... [ that's a lame start. maybe moving to her side of the room will help, over towards the bed she'll be using. ] This is... nice.
what's even worse is that she also invited himari and kanba. while shouko always enjoys her sister's company, her brother was a more tricky person to work around, at least until just recently. she still doesn't like the large gaps in her memory, or how she now feels incredibly awkward around her twin. it's obvious that there was something bothering him as well, attempting in vain to chalk it up to something to do with the weird month that she can't quite recall the details of.
this is why shouko went out of her way to avoid her brother, always turning red in the face before babbling that she had a lot of homework to do, or that ringo wanted to spend some alone time with her, how she'll be staying with her for a weekend (or so) to study.
most of the excuses were blatant lies. she was certain that kanba had known all along.
the only relief she felt was the assumption of bedding with her schoolmate and sister, an emotion that was brutally smashed into a million pieces once she learned that that wouldn't be the case.
when the door is shut to her and kanba's room for the week, she stands there with a bewildered look on her face, just staring at the wall blankly. ]
... [ were they really going to be sharing a room together? shouko was pretty certain that the one ringo and himari were staying in could fit three, or so a short peek into it told her. it didn't make sense, she hadn't slept in the same room with kanba since their parents were around...
ah, this is going to be awkward, isn't it? they hadn't really spoken to each other very much in a handful of weeks, the act of verbal communication with kanba is still lost on her. still, she's going to try breaking the silence, tucking some hair behind her ears in a nervous manner, her other hand shifting the pack on her shoulder. ]
So... [ that's a lame start. maybe moving to her side of the room will help, over towards the bed she'll be using. ] This is... nice.
takakurakamba[ kanba knows a lot about this clinic. over the years he's gone in and out of it countless times for countless things he doesn't want his sisters to know about. on occasion he's had to bring them in as well: shouko's scraped knees, himari's chicken pox, or the one weekend where they got lost in the wrong part of the city, something none of them dare speak of in full.
kanba knows a lot, but the pink-haired physician that they've just met with is new to him. the acute interest he held in his twin is something that's still rankling him quite a bit. he refused to leave her side throughout the entire consultation. even if she's not the real shouko (he hasn't come to a total conclusion on that yet), she's family all the same. his amount of caring won't be swayed by a freak occurrence, a sudden lapse in memory.
as they exit the room, holding the door open for her, he worries at his hair. the prickle on the back of his neck from the doctor's piercing gaze isn't helping matters much. the sooner they get out of here, the better. ]
That guy... [ mutters to himself, unable to shake the feeling that he's seen him somewhere before. it's probably nothing. ]
kanba knows a lot, but the pink-haired physician that they've just met with is new to him. the acute interest he held in his twin is something that's still rankling him quite a bit. he refused to leave her side throughout the entire consultation. even if she's not the real shouko (he hasn't come to a total conclusion on that yet), she's family all the same. his amount of caring won't be swayed by a freak occurrence, a sudden lapse in memory.
as they exit the room, holding the door open for her, he worries at his hair. the prickle on the back of his neck from the doctor's piercing gaze isn't helping matters much. the sooner they get out of here, the better. ]
That guy... [ mutters to himself, unable to shake the feeling that he's seen him somewhere before. it's probably nothing. ]
takakurakanba[ as he slowly comes to in the middle of an empty street, the initial thought that crosses kanba's mind is that this is hardly the first time he's ever woken up like this. the second is that it's been a long time since he has, shortly followed by a third one that involves a sense of panic and alarm.
his head is killing him. he doesn't know where he is, how he got here, or what he was previously up to until this point. this development isn't new, either. it is, however, out of the ordinary to waking up alone—there are no cars, pedestrians, friends, or family to help him. he doesn't know if he's even in japan anymore, though that might be a little far-fetched to consider. then again, plenty of stranger things have happened in his day...
getting up turns out to be an equally painful process that he gives up on when he settles onto his knees. when his eyes adjust to the darkness outside, he can make out a familiar sign here and there, meaning that he's at least home, or close enough to it. though relieving, it scarcely scratches the surface of what he's doing here, ears feeling like they're stuffed up with cotton, and why.
kanba can't remember. leafing through his memories is like doing the same to a notebook that's had a lot of its pages torn out, or simply left blank. obviously he remembers who he is, the time of year, and what the quickest route back to the takakura house is—
the house. that's right, his brother's there, he shouldn't leave him alone for very long, probably has dinner on the stove right now. there's no sense in making him wait; a hot meal and a hot bath are never unwelcome things, along with something hotter still after that. it's often their nightly routine, isn't it?
he thinks that's enough incentive to bring him to his feet, send him forward.
and then kanba's cell phone vibrates. the incessant kyu-kyu of his message tone has never sounded so loud.
for a moment he debates with himself if it's worth checking or not. if it's shouma, then there's no worry, and if it's someone from school, there's even less. blowing them off isn't something that kanba would do under normal circumstances, though given the ones that he's currently in, they could probably make an exception if kenzan's son isn't there for his usual pickup. he can offer an explanation the next time around.
it's buzzing again. already...?
with a sigh on his lips, he reaches in, opens his phone up. the unknown number on the screen is just as confusing to him as the lack of the ever-cryptic 'to mr. kanba' is.
kan-chan? the only person who doesn't facetiously call him by that name is...is...
the contents of the text message in front of him are hard to follow. is it a wrong number? this isn't from his brother, so saying i'll be home tomorrow makes very little sense. so does the last line; who's 'shou-nee' and why should he keep his hands off of her? it's not from yamashita, is it? if so, that's far worse than a lot of the other nicknames he's come up with for his younger twin.
strange...as he re-reads it, kanba's distantly reminded of their little sister. that would make the least sense of all, though, wouldn't it? she's not allowed to use a cell phone of her own within the hospital walls, and there's no way that she'd be borrowing anyone else's. plus, that still doesn't explain the nickname, whether or not it's referencing shouma at all.
should he respond? his thumb hovers over the button, hesitant. the text doesn't sound threatening in the slightest, so there may not be any danger in simply letting it go. if whoever's sent it has something important to say, they can always leave another message.
a mental note is made to look up the number when he's got a chance to do so.
sitting there, sadly, isn't going to get kanba anywhere. he's still stiff when he stands, but it's relatively to ignore. from the looks of things, he has his school uniform on, though that doesn't tell much of a tale. at least it's better than waking up to having something ridiculous on.
he knows the way, even if the going is slow. from a distance, the house looks exactly the same, and his key fits in the door with no trouble at all. at first he doesn't think of much slipping into the foyer, slurring out a halfhearted 'i'm home', kicking off his shoes messily. the fact that the lights also isn't an issue...but the fact that it's so quiet is.
rarely do they leave their penguins unsupervised, and in the unlikely event that it's so, one can still hear the pitter-patter of their feet as they move about, doing whatever it is they do to keep themselves occupied until the humans return. it's not like shouma to up and leave, or take both penguins with him. why is no one home?
there are no notes to greet kanba with, no still-warm dishes in the kitchen or refrigerator. returning to an empty house is a very rare thing indeed. the panic is rising in him again, awkwardly searching through both main rooms. everything looks like it's supposed to at first glance, take or leave the variations that are so minor, it doesn't occur to him till after a second pass. everything right down to the photos is just the way he'd last left it—which is where everything starts to get weird.
mother, father, all three children are there. but something's...different...about his brother. shouma's never kept his hair that long before, let alone in ribbons. come to think of it, he almost shows more similarities to himari than to him. there's a reason that kanba always teases him about being the perfect housewife, but that doesn't mean he's...he's...
a girl? no, kanba's seeing things.
the only place he hasn't checked is her bedroom. for whatever reason it's not as shocking as the family photos have been, but it's still disarming. this is nothing like the room that he can remember furnishing for himari. there's no bed, nowhere near as many knickknacks, and it seems...crowded, overall, as though there's twice as many people living in here. perhaps there is.
he's pawing through this and that, clothing, schoolbooks, objects that are in easy reach. a lot of these look like outfits that himari would wear, but never gets to when she's adorned with a hospital gown more often than not. they smell familiar too, just like her. others...not as much, although they all remind kanba of something.
his temples are throbbing all of a sudden. he needs to sit down, in the empty space where a pair of pink and blue futons ought to be laid. it's there that he'll stay, eventually curling tightly into a ball to ride the pain out. the last thing his consciousness registers is his fingertips brushing against the leg of a tattered old teddy bear, before he drifts away altogether.
just a few minutes. he'll take a nap, just for a few minutes, while the pages in his proverbial notebook are pasted back in. just a few minutes. shouko-chan will be back soon...
kanba's too tired to question where a thought like that has come from. ]
his head is killing him. he doesn't know where he is, how he got here, or what he was previously up to until this point. this development isn't new, either. it is, however, out of the ordinary to waking up alone—there are no cars, pedestrians, friends, or family to help him. he doesn't know if he's even in japan anymore, though that might be a little far-fetched to consider. then again, plenty of stranger things have happened in his day...
getting up turns out to be an equally painful process that he gives up on when he settles onto his knees. when his eyes adjust to the darkness outside, he can make out a familiar sign here and there, meaning that he's at least home, or close enough to it. though relieving, it scarcely scratches the surface of what he's doing here, ears feeling like they're stuffed up with cotton, and why.
kanba can't remember. leafing through his memories is like doing the same to a notebook that's had a lot of its pages torn out, or simply left blank. obviously he remembers who he is, the time of year, and what the quickest route back to the takakura house is—
the house. that's right, his brother's there, he shouldn't leave him alone for very long, probably has dinner on the stove right now. there's no sense in making him wait; a hot meal and a hot bath are never unwelcome things, along with something hotter still after that. it's often their nightly routine, isn't it?
he thinks that's enough incentive to bring him to his feet, send him forward.
and then kanba's cell phone vibrates. the incessant kyu-kyu of his message tone has never sounded so loud.
for a moment he debates with himself if it's worth checking or not. if it's shouma, then there's no worry, and if it's someone from school, there's even less. blowing them off isn't something that kanba would do under normal circumstances, though given the ones that he's currently in, they could probably make an exception if kenzan's son isn't there for his usual pickup. he can offer an explanation the next time around.
it's buzzing again. already...?
with a sigh on his lips, he reaches in, opens his phone up. the unknown number on the screen is just as confusing to him as the lack of the ever-cryptic 'to mr. kanba' is.
kan-chan? the only person who doesn't facetiously call him by that name is...is...
the contents of the text message in front of him are hard to follow. is it a wrong number? this isn't from his brother, so saying i'll be home tomorrow makes very little sense. so does the last line; who's 'shou-nee' and why should he keep his hands off of her? it's not from yamashita, is it? if so, that's far worse than a lot of the other nicknames he's come up with for his younger twin.
strange...as he re-reads it, kanba's distantly reminded of their little sister. that would make the least sense of all, though, wouldn't it? she's not allowed to use a cell phone of her own within the hospital walls, and there's no way that she'd be borrowing anyone else's. plus, that still doesn't explain the nickname, whether or not it's referencing shouma at all.
should he respond? his thumb hovers over the button, hesitant. the text doesn't sound threatening in the slightest, so there may not be any danger in simply letting it go. if whoever's sent it has something important to say, they can always leave another message.
a mental note is made to look up the number when he's got a chance to do so.
sitting there, sadly, isn't going to get kanba anywhere. he's still stiff when he stands, but it's relatively to ignore. from the looks of things, he has his school uniform on, though that doesn't tell much of a tale. at least it's better than waking up to having something ridiculous on.
he knows the way, even if the going is slow. from a distance, the house looks exactly the same, and his key fits in the door with no trouble at all. at first he doesn't think of much slipping into the foyer, slurring out a halfhearted 'i'm home', kicking off his shoes messily. the fact that the lights also isn't an issue...but the fact that it's so quiet is.
rarely do they leave their penguins unsupervised, and in the unlikely event that it's so, one can still hear the pitter-patter of their feet as they move about, doing whatever it is they do to keep themselves occupied until the humans return. it's not like shouma to up and leave, or take both penguins with him. why is no one home?
there are no notes to greet kanba with, no still-warm dishes in the kitchen or refrigerator. returning to an empty house is a very rare thing indeed. the panic is rising in him again, awkwardly searching through both main rooms. everything looks like it's supposed to at first glance, take or leave the variations that are so minor, it doesn't occur to him till after a second pass. everything right down to the photos is just the way he'd last left it—which is where everything starts to get weird.
mother, father, all three children are there. but something's...different...about his brother. shouma's never kept his hair that long before, let alone in ribbons. come to think of it, he almost shows more similarities to himari than to him. there's a reason that kanba always teases him about being the perfect housewife, but that doesn't mean he's...he's...
a girl? no, kanba's seeing things.
the only place he hasn't checked is her bedroom. for whatever reason it's not as shocking as the family photos have been, but it's still disarming. this is nothing like the room that he can remember furnishing for himari. there's no bed, nowhere near as many knickknacks, and it seems...crowded, overall, as though there's twice as many people living in here. perhaps there is.
he's pawing through this and that, clothing, schoolbooks, objects that are in easy reach. a lot of these look like outfits that himari would wear, but never gets to when she's adorned with a hospital gown more often than not. they smell familiar too, just like her. others...not as much, although they all remind kanba of something.
his temples are throbbing all of a sudden. he needs to sit down, in the empty space where a pair of pink and blue futons ought to be laid. it's there that he'll stay, eventually curling tightly into a ball to ride the pain out. the last thing his consciousness registers is his fingertips brushing against the leg of a tattered old teddy bear, before he drifts away altogether.
just a few minutes. he'll take a nap, just for a few minutes, while the pages in his proverbial notebook are pasted back in. just a few minutes. shouko-chan will be back soon...
kanba's too tired to question where a thought like that has come from. ]
takakurashouko[ the dream he's currently having is nothing unusual. it's the same one he's been trudging through for a while now, stuff about finding the penguindrum, something about stopping kanba, and other nonsense that he's mostly voided as being insignificant by now. those feelings of urgency he kept having didn't stop, but without being able to decipher whatever that weird hat-thing was saying, it was accurate enough to say that he couldn't do anything about it, so he decided to not worry over it too much.
right now he's drifting between sleep and awareness, teetering more to the latter than the former as the seconds pass by. shouma's body knows that it doesn't have to get up just yet, that he can sleep for a bit longer. he's feeling a little cold, though, rolling on over to try and grab at kanba, wanting to tug and pull him to wrap his arms around him again. the hand doesn't meet anything other than the floor, flailing around a bit to double-check, grunting once when he realizes that his brother wasn't there.
whatever. rolls over to his other side, face finally hitting something, but it's too soft and fluffy to be a penguin or his sibling, eyebrows scrunching together in confusion. cracks an eyelid open, tilting his head more to see what it is. it looked like some kind of stuffed animal, but he couldn't be sure, rolling to the side to sit up and get a better look.
... wait. why was he in himari's room?
rubs at his eyes for a good 30 seconds, blearily glancing about. yeah, it was definitely himari's room, though it looked a little bit different than usual for some reason. well, that didn't matter as much as wanting to know how he got there in the first place. did he get in a fight with kanba without him knowing it? not that he could recall ever using himari's bedroom as a hideout, except maybe once when tempers rose to new heights and shouting actually occurred. she scolded them afterward, of course, and it was easy to make up with each other in the morning ('cause the make up sex was really great--), but as far as shouma knew they had been on good terms right before bed last night. strange...
these are the thoughts that go through his head before he stretches, face getting caught in a mess of what he thinks is hair, sputtering and pawing at his face to get it off. ]
Ow! [ immediately releases the clump of hair that he tried to pull away, a perplexed look on his face when he touches his head again, this time with both hands, feeling around the frizzy mess as he continues to grow more and more confused by the second. if shouma didn't know any better, he'd think his hair grew several inches throughout the night. not only that, but he was noticing other things as his brain gradually comes out of its fuzzy haze, specifically on why he felt like he had no pajama pants on, or his lack of...
of... ...
dread fills him when he stops. thinks. he doesn't look just yet, but a hand is moving underneath the comforter, slowly, carefully placing it an inch or two into his inner thigh, feeling nothing but a gap there. a big gap, actually. the color slowly drains from his face, lifting both hands to firmly pat at his chest. ends up yelping at the sensation, finally having enough nerve to whip his head down to his body, down to his... breasts?
--breasts?!
flings the comforter away, not hesitating this time to look himself over. there was most definitely not any male bits down there, face immediately flaring at the sight of the blue lacy underwear he's (she's-?!) wearing, quickly tugging the nightgown down to cover himself. panic fills him again at the thought of this actually being real, muttering out no, no, no, no underneath his breath before he's scrambling to stand, resisting the urge to scream as to not wake himari up. instead he hastily throws open one of the sliding doors that leads to his (and himari's?) room, shutting it with a little less force than before, staring down at his still-sleeping brother from across the room.
just falls down on his hands and knees, crawling towards kanba's futon while making low, pathetic whining noises. ]
Kanba... [ raises an arm when he's reached his destination, shaking his twin. whispers louder, more urgent, obviously on the verge of tears: ] Kanba!
right now he's drifting between sleep and awareness, teetering more to the latter than the former as the seconds pass by. shouma's body knows that it doesn't have to get up just yet, that he can sleep for a bit longer. he's feeling a little cold, though, rolling on over to try and grab at kanba, wanting to tug and pull him to wrap his arms around him again. the hand doesn't meet anything other than the floor, flailing around a bit to double-check, grunting once when he realizes that his brother wasn't there.
whatever. rolls over to his other side, face finally hitting something, but it's too soft and fluffy to be a penguin or his sibling, eyebrows scrunching together in confusion. cracks an eyelid open, tilting his head more to see what it is. it looked like some kind of stuffed animal, but he couldn't be sure, rolling to the side to sit up and get a better look.
... wait. why was he in himari's room?
rubs at his eyes for a good 30 seconds, blearily glancing about. yeah, it was definitely himari's room, though it looked a little bit different than usual for some reason. well, that didn't matter as much as wanting to know how he got there in the first place. did he get in a fight with kanba without him knowing it? not that he could recall ever using himari's bedroom as a hideout, except maybe once when tempers rose to new heights and shouting actually occurred. she scolded them afterward, of course, and it was easy to make up with each other in the morning ('cause the make up sex was really great--), but as far as shouma knew they had been on good terms right before bed last night. strange...
these are the thoughts that go through his head before he stretches, face getting caught in a mess of what he thinks is hair, sputtering and pawing at his face to get it off. ]
Ow! [ immediately releases the clump of hair that he tried to pull away, a perplexed look on his face when he touches his head again, this time with both hands, feeling around the frizzy mess as he continues to grow more and more confused by the second. if shouma didn't know any better, he'd think his hair grew several inches throughout the night. not only that, but he was noticing other things as his brain gradually comes out of its fuzzy haze, specifically on why he felt like he had no pajama pants on, or his lack of...
of... ...
dread fills him when he stops. thinks. he doesn't look just yet, but a hand is moving underneath the comforter, slowly, carefully placing it an inch or two into his inner thigh, feeling nothing but a gap there. a big gap, actually. the color slowly drains from his face, lifting both hands to firmly pat at his chest. ends up yelping at the sensation, finally having enough nerve to whip his head down to his body, down to his... breasts?
--breasts?!
flings the comforter away, not hesitating this time to look himself over. there was most definitely not any male bits down there, face immediately flaring at the sight of the blue lacy underwear he's (she's-?!) wearing, quickly tugging the nightgown down to cover himself. panic fills him again at the thought of this actually being real, muttering out no, no, no, no underneath his breath before he's scrambling to stand, resisting the urge to scream as to not wake himari up. instead he hastily throws open one of the sliding doors that leads to his (and himari's?) room, shutting it with a little less force than before, staring down at his still-sleeping brother from across the room.
just falls down on his hands and knees, crawling towards kanba's futon while making low, pathetic whining noises. ]
Kanba... [ raises an arm when he's reached his destination, shaking his twin. whispers louder, more urgent, obviously on the verge of tears: ] Kanba!
takakurahimari[ time always seemed to pass by slowly for himari whenever she returned to the hospital, always unsure of what to do with herself until her brothers came to visit her. it was a little different this time, as her penguin companion was always at her side, answering her with little kyuu kyuus whenever himari felt like talking. the one-sided conversation didn't bother her one bit, briefly offering a smile to #3 when it stops knitting to look up at her and show off what she's doing.
there's no telling why, but today she was in a particularly good mood, rising early to watch the sun come up and bid japan a good morning. the pattern was the same as usual after that, greeting the nurse who comes in to place breakfast onto her lap, making light conversation until the woman left to go make the rounds. it's between feeding #3 that she absently flips through a knitting magazine, humming in consideration. ]
What should I try next~? [ the sing-song tone of voice is nothing new, but there's something more perky and upbeat to it than usual.
the mood probably has to do with knowing that her brothers are taking a break and having a good time at the springs. they always try so hard for her sake, constantly running back and forth from school to the hospital, and she sometimes worried for their health, reminding them to go to bed early and toss in a light jab at kanba's (sometimes) poor eating habits. so for them to get away for even an evening allowed her to rest easy, almost a little disappointed for them when they called earlier to tell her that they were heading home.
didn't they have school? maybe it was a half-day, she couldn't really recall. shouma certainly wouldn't let it fly for them to miss a day, unless something important came up. they sounded chipper over the phone, so himari decides to not worry about it too much. ]
Hm? [ stops on a page in the magazine when she notices a pattern for a sweater, beaming down at it as a thought suddenly strikes her, immediately rummaging around in her bag of supplies to see if she can find the right colors she had in mind. there's not too much disappointment there when the brown, baby pink, and purple balls of yarn didn't strike her as anything her brothers would wear, even if she chuckles at the mere thought of it.
with another smile to her penguin and a nod of approval in kind, himari wiggles to sit more upright to begin practicing with the brown threads, a determined expression written on her face. she was slow with her breakfast, so it's no doubt that lunch would soon come right around the corner, and she'd rather not have to stop in the middle to eat before her food gets cold (again). ]
there's no telling why, but today she was in a particularly good mood, rising early to watch the sun come up and bid japan a good morning. the pattern was the same as usual after that, greeting the nurse who comes in to place breakfast onto her lap, making light conversation until the woman left to go make the rounds. it's between feeding #3 that she absently flips through a knitting magazine, humming in consideration. ]
What should I try next~? [ the sing-song tone of voice is nothing new, but there's something more perky and upbeat to it than usual.
the mood probably has to do with knowing that her brothers are taking a break and having a good time at the springs. they always try so hard for her sake, constantly running back and forth from school to the hospital, and she sometimes worried for their health, reminding them to go to bed early and toss in a light jab at kanba's (sometimes) poor eating habits. so for them to get away for even an evening allowed her to rest easy, almost a little disappointed for them when they called earlier to tell her that they were heading home.
didn't they have school? maybe it was a half-day, she couldn't really recall. shouma certainly wouldn't let it fly for them to miss a day, unless something important came up. they sounded chipper over the phone, so himari decides to not worry about it too much. ]
Hm? [ stops on a page in the magazine when she notices a pattern for a sweater, beaming down at it as a thought suddenly strikes her, immediately rummaging around in her bag of supplies to see if she can find the right colors she had in mind. there's not too much disappointment there when the brown, baby pink, and purple balls of yarn didn't strike her as anything her brothers would wear, even if she chuckles at the mere thought of it.
with another smile to her penguin and a nod of approval in kind, himari wiggles to sit more upright to begin practicing with the brown threads, a determined expression written on her face. she was slow with her breakfast, so it's no doubt that lunch would soon come right around the corner, and she'd rather not have to stop in the middle to eat before her food gets cold (again). ]
[ INTERLUDE ]; kanba, shouma (FICTION)
Dec. 25th, 2011 11:51 pmdupThe sun hasn’t risen yet, and outside the Takakura house, the streets are relatively empty. Everyone who’s anyone has long since fallen asleep, especially in this district, where nothing noteworthy ever happens. None of that stops Kanba from being wide awake. ( Read more... )
