WARNING! This story will be very dark and potentially triggery. (Further warnings to follow in the chapters they apply to.) It's darker than anything I've written before, so if you're looking for something light and fun, this is not the place. This is in no way related to my other Ouran fic, which some of you may be disappointed about, so I'm sorry.
This is just a super short prologue to get things started. Chapter 1 to follow soon!
Hour by Hour
Prologue
Surprise briefly colors Hikaru's face as he opens the bedroom door to find Kaoru out of bed and standing in front of the large picture window. He watches the early morning sun creeping over the treetops, his hands clasped serenely behind his back, his face blank.
"Kaoru, you're up. Are you…feeling better today?" Hikaru asks, a small feeling of hope daring to bloom within him.
Kaoru turns to face him, his old smile stretching his lips. It's been so long since Hikaru has seen that smile, and he steadfastly chooses to ignore the way that his little brother's eyes are deader than ever. It's just a trick of the light.
"Yes, I'm feeling much better now."
Hikaru's eyes skim over the stark white bandages, wrapped around Kaoru's neck and peeking out from under his clothes, as he smiles broadly in relief. "I'm glad. I was worried about you, you know. I still am, of course, but if you say you're doing better, then that's good."
Kaoru's smile takes on a plastic quality about the edges, but his eyes don't change. "I was thinking that we could spend the day together, just the two of us. You and me against everyone else, just like how it used to be."
Hikaru's smile turns gentle as he steps up beside his brother, carefully taking Kaoru's hand in his. They had been making progress in expanding their world beyond just the two of them, but if this is what it takes to get his brother back in any form, then the rest of the world can burn. "Yeah. I'd like that very much."
Late that night, Kaoru sits alone at his writing desk as Hikaru sleeps in another room. The pen wavers in his tightly clenched fist, blotting the otherwise empty paper beneath it. He presses his other hand tightly over his eyes for just a moment, smothering the tears before they can form. He knows all the words he wants to say, but none of them will come out quite right.
(I'm not brave enough after all.)
(Please don't blame yourself.)
(None of it was your fault.)
(I love you, Hikaru.)
In the end, he settles on just two.
(I'm sorry.)