Author's Note: for you anime-only folks, this contains spoilers. Also, Ritsu is a cactus- cause he's a prick (ha!) I actually like Ritsu, it's just that he has some, ah, stuff to work through. This is another in my Color in a Monochrome World Series that can be found on Ao3 under the name "Sifl". Thanks for reading and thanks for leaving feedback!
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
The browning vines flourished under the mere brush of Shigeo's thoughts strumming against their tiny leaves, and soon tendrils of new growth stretched forth from the trunk of the plant, reaching up, and out, and then backwards as they climbed up the metal grid of the tomato tower and into the open air again. Tiny yellow buds appeared along the growing vine and expanded like beams of light breaking in even fragments through the holes of a cloud, or like tiny supernovas bursting forth over a universe of dirt and water. Then, the flowers shrivelled, and something new swelled up in their place- something green and firm and growing, and then it turned the color of blood as it ballooned to the size of Ritsu's fist.
Shigeo reached out and pulled one of the new tomatoes from the vine. It came off easily, as if it were waiting for just the right moment to fall into Shigeo's open palm, like the stars aligned and the universe willed that right here, right now, in grandmother Tome's garden, Shigeo Kageyama was meant to have this harvest and Ritsu Kageyama was meant to bear witness to it.
"Oh. Ritsu. Do you want one?" Shigeo held the tomato out to his brother. "I thought it might be good to take them to grandma, but I can grow more."
Ritsu smiled as if Shigeo had just offered him a bent spoon as a reward for patience, like the two had traded so many times before. "No thank you, big brother. I think we should wash and prepare it first. And dinner's soon; I think grandma would get mad if we showed up and didn't want to eat."
Shigeo blinked, and then looked at the tomato as if it were the most average thing imaginable and not a miracle brought on by his own hand. "Oh. That's a good point." He reached for another red fruit, and snapped the perfectly rounded, red flesh of it from the vine.
"Hey," Ritsu said, reaching out to halt his brother's claim on the next one, "why don't you go ahead and give those to grandma? I'll get the rest." He was close enough to touch Shigeo's loud cotton shirt- only a few centimeters away- but something held him back, like his hand was covered in invisible spines that held them apart, like how electrons could only circle around a nucleus like the planets could only watch the sun from afar lest they crash and burn and die in its burning, destructive glory. "Mom might get suspicious if she sees you with so many tomatoes. She'll know you were making things grow with your powers, and it might get you in trouble. I'll wait a little while, and then bring in the rest. I'll say I found them on a bunch of other vines."
"Oh," Shigeo said. "Really? Would that be okay?"
"Why wouldn't it be?" Ritsu asked, smiling down at his brother and wondering if Shigeo was wearing the same expression behind his deadpanned mask, down where his heart beat in his chest.
"That's Ritsu thinking ahead, as always. Thanks." Shigeo straightened out, and, cradling the tomato in his arms, did quirk his lips up into a smile. "You really are the best." He turned towards grandmother Tome's house, and then looked back to his brother for just a moment. "I'll see you in a few minutes," he said, and then ambled away in that stiff, straight-legged, and awkward way of walking that he had whenever he was excited.
Ritsu waved as Shigeo retreated, and then turned back to the thriving tomato plant that sprang to life with vigor and enthusiasm only a few moments before. Cicadas chorused in the background in a lazy drawl as if to curse the heat.
This summer was abnormally arid and brutal, and the sun above beat down on Ritsu like the harsh judgement of a god while the boy himself regarded the garden with the same intensity.
The little garden was Edenic where Shigeo had touched it- or, rather, thought about it. He had not only revived the tomato plant closest to the house, but coaxed the sun-dried daylilies back to life, put the blue back into the hydrangeas, and righted the drooping hasta so that they again pointed skyward as if to glorify the heavens, but left the rest of it thoroughly barren, save for the green first growth of grandmother Tome's melons and cucumbers peering out over the soil as they took stock of the damning sun threatening them from above, and the remaining drying, dying tomato vines clinging desperately to their metal towers as their leaves wilted and fried.
Ritsu held out his hand towards the tomato plant closest to himself, the next one in the line beside Shigeo's, and closed his eyes.
The cicadas heckled him in the distance, and the garden endured him without incident.
Ritsu opened his eyes, and discovered that the wasteland in front of him was still a wasteland, his tomato plant still crude, gnarled kindling sitting alongside Shigeo's living masterpiece. He cursed, and closed his eyes once more, and then opened them again to no results. And again.
And again.
And again.
A series of soft, shrill screams erupted from the garden as the metal tomato towers bent over and twisted in spirals to escape Ritsu's frustration. The boy cursed again. "Stop bending like spoons," he muttered. "That's not enough!" He held out his hands again, this time with his eyes wide open, and bid the sorry plants stop hiding in the warped arms of their metal supports and stand tall on their own. They obliged, and then fell limply to the ground when Ritsu let his hands rest at his sides.
The boy ground his teeth, and his hair lifted upon his head until it floated in the air like desert brush fighting with a sandstorm. "No, not like that!" His eyes lit up and his fingers splayed. "You're supposed to do what I want, like you do for my brother!" The tomato vines swelled taught, and stood upright as if they were suddenly filled with helium instead of water. Shigeo's tomato plant trembled in sympathy, its red fruit glistening like fragile glass ornaments on a bough. "You'll grow for him, but not for me! Why?!" He cursed again. "I'm good enough! Do what I want! Do what I-!"
Shigeo's tomatoes ruptured and split, and then exploded to spray carnage all over Ritsu and the dry earth of the rest of the suffering garden like a blood sacrifice.
Ritsu held up a trembling hand, and wiped off his face. His breath hissed through his nose, and his shoulders shook beneath his blue shirt, now stained with wet, red acid.
"Stupid," he started, and then hung his head and bit back the rest of his words. "Stupid," he repeated. "I wanted," he huffed, full of ego. His fists clenched. "I want," Ritsu tried again. "I…"
Suddenly, the vine closest to Ritsu's shoes came alive, and changed color until it was vibrant and emerald green. The metal tomato towers creaked and straightened themselves back out, and the tomato plants rushed to embrace them once again. Flowers of saffron appeared, and then disappeared as the ripening tomatoes took their place.
Shigeo put his hand on Ritsu's shoulder. "You'll get it. Don't worry." He smiled. "You can do anything. You're Ritsu." He kneeled down and picked a tomato from the new vine, and then held it out to his brother. "It's almost time to go back in, mom said. It's too hot."
Ritsu scowled at the ground. "Right."
Shigeo held the tomato out to his brother still, his stare patient and never-ending.
Ritsu relented, and accepted the red fruit. Shigeo smiled again, and began stripping the plant and passing the spoils back to his brother. "Grandma was happy about the one I gave her," he said. "So she'll be even happier with more."
Ritsu swallowed. "Oh. Great."
"Yeah. We're gonna have them for dinner. I'm glad. Aren't you?"
Juice dripped down Ritsu's fingers in rivers as he punctured the skin of his colorful burden.
"I don't," Ritsu spat out.
"Ritsu?" Shigeo asked, standing to look into his brother's face.
The cicadas' commentary rose to a chittering crescendo as they bickered amongst themselves. One of them cut through the cacophonous haze with a particularly strained and abrasive whine, another answered with a hushed, repetitive rattle and croak, and another gave a rhythmic scream until finally they grew tired of it all and fell silent.
"I don't like tomatoes," Ritsu mumbled, defeated.
Shigeo shuffled in his sandals. "Oh. I'm sorry. I thought you did." He bowed his head. "I'm sorry I gave them to grandma without thinking. Should we-"
"No." Ritsu cut him off. "It's fine."
"Brother?"
"I said it's fine." Ritsu's dark features pulled taught into a smile. "Here. I'll take that one from you," he said, gesturing to the fruit still lingering in Shigeo's hands. "I can carry a little more."
When Shigeo hesitated, Ritsu reached down and took it. "I said I wanted to carry it."
The hot sun bounced off of Shigeo's sleek hair like it were hard metal shielding his eyes from the light, and not something so soft and malleable that the wind could blow aside in an instant. Shigeo nodded at his brother, and the flowers in the garden he grew bobbed along in agreement. "Okay. If you want to."
Ritsu's response was unforgiving and parched, like an oasis of desert fighting to stay above his brother's flood of lush generosity. "Yeah," Ritsu said. "I want to. I'll do this by myself." He paused, and willed himself to stop bristling and put on a smile. "Don't worry."
Shigeo stared at his brother for a moment with dark, deep, blank eyes, and, uncomprehendingly, only said, "Okay."