Title : A Tale of Two Brothers
Genre : Anime/Manga
Category : Wolf's Rain
Disclaimer : Hey, remember me? Yeah, well, believe it or not, I still don't own it. Oh, well.
Summary : Basically what the title says. The two brothers in question being Toboe and Tsume. Much angst ensues. Oh yes, this is an AU. My apologies for my selfishness. And no, they're not wolves. Though I must say it being a WR story, I must include something containing the subject, shouldn't I? ; )
Warnings : Hmm, violence, angst, mild swearing, and various other circumstances that are too numerous for me to name.
Rating : T
Chapter 1 : This House
A curtain of faded sunlight was trying desperately to make its way through the tattered Venetian blinds, though layers of dust and dirt refused its entrance. It didn't help matters much that very pregnant rain clouds were journeying up the horizon, threatening the few rays of light that managed to escape them.
Shadows of the sky fell upon the ground, almost hiding the young boy that was running through them. His auburn colored hair was a mess, the wind having thrown it this way and that. His clothes were hardly in better condition; his faded jeans revealing tears at the knees, and his shirt holy, no less.
He looked over his shoulder, his breath leaving his lungs faster than he could retain it, leaving him to deal with the dizziness and lightheadness that it bestowed upon him. His brow narrowed as he caught a glimpse of three faded figures, still steadily in tow. A low groan escaped his lips as he pushed himself further, nearly getting himself caught on the waist high fence he toppled over. Upon hearing a new rip form in his already abused jeans, he regained his balance and continued forward, home coming into view.
Relief flooded his lungs as he made his way up the three almost broken steps to the porch, fumbling for his keys and almost dropping them as he heard taunts and shouts coming closer. Jabbing the right key into the lock, he pushed the door open and slammed it quickly, sucking in the breath that his lungs so desperately longed for.
He dropped his book bag on the off color carpet, continuing to take in more air and ease the height of panic that engulfed his tired limbs. With shaking hands, he peeled off his thin jacket that was sticking to his skin due to the amount of sweat that had built up on him on his journey home.
He looked around the living room, taking notice of how clean it was. Was it like that before he had went to school, he wondered. He couldn't remember. He was sure it had been messier than this...
Letting the thought go, he crept into the kitchen, his stomach growling at him in return. He opened the refrigerator, dismayed at the sight of how empty it was. He surveyed the remains, finally finding an edible apple in the back. Checking the date on the milk, he pulled the carton out, remembering the last time he had taken a drink from it and found out that the substance that poured from it wasn't exactly liquid.
He sighed as he filled a glass, thankful that it was milky rather than choppy. He placed the carton back in its rightful spot and exited the kitchen, glass and apple in hand. He made his way back into the living room only to find a sleeping figure sprawled out face down on the threadbare couch, nearly dropping the objects in his hands as he tried to figure out why he hadn't seen his brother there when he first came in.
His face fell distraught as his eyes traced the body that lay before him.
The side of his brother's face came into view, a few strands of silver hair tumbling across his cheek. He took note of how long his older brother's hair had gotten, knowing that soon enough, it would be short again, him probably not cutting it due to lack of time.
He winced for some reason as he took in how the worn t-shirt that covered his brother's upper body seemingly hung on him, knowing for sure that it had been tighter at some point in time. The same went for his jeans, they being baggier than ever. Smudges of dirt covered his clothes and even tinted his face, the bit of skin that was revealed paling in color. The younger boy shook his head, seeing the older one's shoes still on, tied tightly and double-knotted.
The red haired boy knelt down, placing a still shaking hand on his brother's shoulder, stirring him slightly.
"Tsume, hey, Tsume? Why don't you sleep in your bed? I bet it's a lot more comfortable than this," he whispered, knowing all too well how uninviting the couch really was.
"M' fine. Leave me alone, Toboe," the silver haired one muttered, barely able to push away the younger one's touch.
"Come on, Tsume. I know you're tired, but still... Come on," he urged once more, putting a little more force into his shaking, still hardly getting any response from the older one.
"Go away," Tsume murmured a little more harshly, though stubbornness was a trait both of them seemed to have acquired.
Rolling his eyes, the smaller of the two began to pull the other up, Tsume reluctantly going along with it, still in a half-daze. As soon as the older one was on his feet, he blinked, his vision clearing. He pulled away from the younger, his eyes searching for the clock.
"What time is it?" he blurted out, looking more disheveled by the minute.
Toboe took a better look at his brother, noting how the other's pants almost fell down as he stood up straight. For some reason, anger decided to flush through him at that moment and he replied bluntly, "You need a belt." Not even bothering to answer his brother's frantic question, he stalked off towards the hallway to his room, leaving his apple and half-drank glass of milk forgotten on the coffee table.
"Dammit!" he could hear his brother curse as he closed the door to his room, immediately laying down on the bed.
"Dammit, Toboe, why didn't you wake me up?" Tsume shouted, pushing open the younger's bedroom door.
"I just got here!" Toboe shot back indignantly, his eyebrows narrowing once again.
"Just got here my ass! It's five o'clock! School lets out at three as far as I recall!" he returned, shooting Toboe a glare before going into his own room and searching for clean clothes.
With a roll of the eyes, Toboe pushed himself up off the bed, exiting his room and quietly peering through Tsume's open door. He watched as his brother pulled off his dirty shirt, worry clutching his chest at the sight.
He knew of his brother's scars. It wasn't as though they were anything new, not in the least. They nearly covered his entire back, leaving little space for clear skin. But they weren't the reason for his gaping or his near watery eyes. He was too used to them for that. No, it was the lack of anything between his skin and his bones that frightened him.
His brother used to be a collage of sinewy muscle, covering his arms and mid-section, but that muscle was all but apparently lost, leaving behind an almost gaunt figure, ribs clearly peaking through his flesh. His heartbeat quickened.
"What?" Tsume shouted at him as he turned around, his eyebrows narrowing in confusion. "What the hell are you gaping at, runt?" he questioned him, his golden eyes piercing the younger boy who stood before him.
The sudden outburst shook the smaller one from his thoughts, making him temporarily unable to speak. He stood there, continuing to stare at his older brother, his mouth moving though no sound came out.
The elder one let out a hushed grunt, slipping on a pair of what was supposed to be clean pants, though faint stains tainted them as well. He swore under his breath as they fell to the floor even though they were buttoned, clearly a sign that something was very wrong. He pulled them up quickly, hearing a faint voice from the other side of the room.
"When's the last time you ate anything, Tsume?" Toboe questioned, his voice barely above a whisper. His face was downcast, his eyes focused on the carpeted floor in front of him, various small objects coming into view before his eyes became unfocused once more.
The elder one ignored the question, frantically searching for a belt and slipping it around his thin waist, pulling it until it reached the last hole. Without giving his younger brother a second glance, he stormed past him and out the door, back into the living room.
Snapping back into reality, Toboe followed him, anger in his hazel eyes once more.
"Where are you going exactly?" he quired, his tone matching his emotion as he stood before Tsume, blocking his way so that he couldn't get out of the house.
"Move!" Tsume shouted, glaring down at the shorter of the two, his jaw clenching visibly through his cheek.
"Not until you tell me why you're in such a hurry! Where are you going, Tsume?" he inquired, returning the glare for all that it was worth.
"You want to know where I'm going? To work, dumbass! Now get out of my way!" he exclaimed, reaching for the door knob.
"But didn't you just come back from work?" Toboe questioned innocently, slightly confused at his brother's response.
"Look, Toboe, if you'd like to continue having this roof over your head and something to eat-"
"There is nothing to eat, Tsume!" he interjected, brow furrowing, gesturing towards the kitchen. "It's not like you would know anyway, judging as how you don't even eat!" the boy spat back, spittle flying from his lips.
Silence cut through the conversation immediately upon the younger's sudden comment. A wave of tension slowly began weaving its way about the room, snaking in between the two.
Tsume gritted his teeth, being the first to speak.
"You've got three seconds to move, runt. One!" he began, anger blazing through his eyes once more. He continued with, "Two!" He squinted as his younger brother still did not move. "That's it," he muttered. Without another word, he pushed Toboe out of the way and threw open the door, not bothering to look back or say anything as he slammed it shut behind him.
Toboe regained his balance and flung the door back open, so hard in fact almost knocking it off its hinges. He wanted to say something, to shout out how mad he was at his older brother, but he couldn't. He just couldn't. His hatred dissolved for the young man just as fast as it had come. He watched his brother take off running down the alley, eventually out of sight. He sighed silently and quietly shut the door, holding back the tears that were threatening to fall.
He knew Tsume was only doing what was best for them. He knew, but still he hated it. He missed the little time that they actually did get to spend together, whenever that was. He'd hardly seen his brother lately, and that fact bothered him all the more. Most days, or nights for that matter, were spent falling asleep on the couch, waiting for Tsume's return. But then he would remember that he wouldn't be back until he was already at school, so there really was no point.
His eyes glazed over as he looked around the room, seeing the same things he always did. It was practically empty, only the threadbare couch, a coffee table, a scruffy old recliner chair they'd found while sifting through alleys, and an old TV, so old that it had knobs to turn the channels instead of buttons or a remote control.
They didn't have much money, and what little they did have was spent on the necessities; bills, second hand clothes, and food. It angered him a bit, knowing that as hard as his brother worked, they had nothing to show for it. Nothing good or of any importance anyway.
He'd forgotten that Tsume was doing split shifts at the factory, or double shifts for that matter. No wonder he isn't eating, he doesn't have time to, Toboe thought, almost bitterly. He shook his head, automatically feeling bad for being angry at his older brother.
He silently made his way into the hall, but just as he was about to enter his room, he looked over his shoulder at Tsume's, the door invitingly ajar.Curiosity had just reared its ugly head; and Toboe took the bait.
Tsume was always so private, the majority of the time locking his room or telling Toboe he'd break his neck if he dared enter; but for some reason, Toboe could no longer resist. It was as though there was a magnet in there and he held the charge that brought them together. He gave his room one last glance as he entered Tsume's.
It was almost as bare as the living room, if not even more. It consisted of a twin-sized bed graced with worn, see-through sheets, and an old weathered nightstand, appearing to be on its last leg. It was clean, needless to say, except for the dirty pants and shirt he'd carelessly tossed aside earlier.
The auburn haired boy bent down and retrieved them from the floor, the intent of washing them for his older brother coming to mind. But he stopped suddenly, knowing there had to be more to the room that met the curious thirteen year old boy's eye. He tossed the clothes at the door and stood there, as though whatever should or should not be there would just coming running out from its hiding space. But of course, it didn't, so he looked into the first thing that came to mind; the closet.
Quietly, he cracked the door open slightly, eyes wide and wondering what his brother might possibly be keeping in there. He saw the three or four pairs of pants hanging neatly beside each other. Five clean shirts hung next to them. He wasn't getting anywhere, and he didn't like it. Something told him he should be finding something that wasn't meant for his eyes, or perhaps, he was just being nosy, either way, he wasn't satisfied.
Looking down, he saw the only other pair of shoes Tsume owned; a pair of black, worn boots. Other than that, there was nothing else on the floor, even as he got down to his knees and searched, nothing could be found. It was empty. He frowned, sure that there would be something hidden in those bleak walls, but nothing?
"What's this?" he muttered, the floor creaking under his weight as he stood to his feet. He stepped on the weak spot once more, just to make sure. He heard it groan again, and this time, an unknown excitement flooded through his veins. He knelt down, feeling around the edge of the carpet, and sure enough, there was a patch of it carefully cut out in a small rectangle shape. He peeled it up carefully, taking a mental note to put it back as neatly as possible.
Underneath the carpet laid a carefully cut but secure floorboard, allowing him the access he wanted. He lifted the board up, gingerly extricating the small wooden box that lay beneath. His eyes grew wider as his heart beat faster, finally something!
He sat back on his knees, but immediately grew crestfallen at the sight of a small lock, keeping the "treasure" from presenting itself; but then again, he wasn't the brother of Tsume Kato for nothing. Taking out the small pocket knife he'd received as a birthday gift the year before, he carefully placed it in the tiny lock, holding his breath until it clicked. Within a few seconds, he got his wish.
He slid the lock off as neatly as possible, placing it on the floor next to him. With slight hesitation, and feeling a small tinge of guilt creep into the back of his mind, he opened the box, surprised at what he saw.
Machinery of all shapes and sizes littered the place, men hard at work on most of them. Orange and yellow sparks flew through the air, nearly engulfing the silver-haired man behind them. He was trying to focus on the task at hand, but the more he tried to concentrate, the more the knowledge of what he was doing slipped away.
Noises buzzed all around him, but no matter how loud they were, the sound wasn't enough to keep him from feeling drowsy. He'd gotten four hours sleep in the last two days, having spent the majority of his waking hours standing in that very same position, part after part disappearing and reappearing before his eyes.
He was exhausted, and though he'd never admit it, longed to be at home. He knew he needed rest, but their need of money was far greater than his needs at the moment. He shook off the fatigue, readjusting the piece of machinery he was busy working on.
He could feel his arms shaking, nearly quivering, due the amount of stress they had been under, just like the rest of him. He stifled a yawn, sweat beading on his brow. Hell, they needed money more than ever, and he'd work as long as he'd have to in order for them to survive.
The silver-haired young man knew his younger brother wouldn't stay as small as he was forever; and Tsume didn't exactly have too many handmedowns to pass on. He'd barely had any clothes himself. And with the bills seemingly continuing to rise...
He was drifting again, something he found himself doing more and more each day. He'd tried to block out those ancient thoughts, ancient to him anyway. They'd taken place a long time ago, and he thought he'd rid them of his memory forever. God, was he ever wrong.
The longer he worked, the quicker they crept up on him, stealing his thoughts and kidnapping his brain. Memories buzzed all around him, and slowly but surely, he was getting sucked in again. He tried to fight it, but it was no use. They were like an unmasked phantom, making him give into the human weakness known as emotion.
Tsume could feel himself getting pulled out of his reality and into an old, forgotten one. One where things could not be tainted with and only watched, rendering him helpless to do anything but sit back and observe.
He was shaking, something that was the norm around that house. It was cold, probably twenty degrees outside, and more than likely, the same temperature in there, if not colder. He pulled his thin shirt tight around his lanky body, eyes fixed on the cracked door.
He glanced over at the small bed in the corner, Toboe curled into a tight ball, shivering mercilessly under a transparent sheet. Tsume knew he was freezing, but he had no other ways of keeping him warm. They were lucky enough to have the mattress, as lumpy and spring-filled as it was, it was still something. But something basically equaled nothing in his book. He shook his head, getting more and more angry by the minute.
He was waiting. Watching. Protecting. It was all the ten year old boy could do for his little brother. After all, they were stuck in a house with a woman who called herself their mother, and a man who claimed they were nothing but pieces of trash and just as disposable.
Tsume continued to stare at the door, silently praying that if he did, to keep watch, then maybe, just maybe, it would stay shut for one night instead of being flung open by the man they were supposed to call "Father".
The silver-haired boy was unsure if that were actually true or not. At ten, he'd seen many things, and a resemblance between the man that stated he was their father and themselves, was just not one of them. He often wondered sometimes where their real father was at, hoping to God that the man they shared a house with wasn't. But if he was, he promised himself one thing; that he'd never be like that man. Ever.
That man didn't care about them at all. And their mother obviously didn't either or she wouldn't let it continue on. Tsume's eyes narrowed at the bitter thought, believing it to be true.
'If she cared one inkling for us, she'd at least have given Toboe some medicine or something!' the thought rang through his head, a scowl appearing on his youthful yet hardened features. He slammed his fist into the nearest wall, pieces of plaster flying through the air around him. He inwardly chastised himself as the smaller boy on the bed moaned and started to stir.
"Dammit. Good one, Tsume," he grumbled to himself and got up quickly, going over to the tiny bed, hiding his bleeding knuckles from the younger boy.
The younger of the two coughed a deep cough, immediately spitting up flehm and the congestion that was concealed deep down in his chest. When nothing else would come, he began to wretch, though there was nothing in his stomach to regurgitate.
Tsume stood there and watched quietly, anger hidden behind his golden orbs. He gently patted Toboe on the back, wishing that he would have been the one to get sick instead of his brother. Toboe didn't didn't deserve to go through that. He was just a kid. Those days were already over for Tsume, and had been for quite some time.
"Shh, Toboe, look, you've got to stay quiet, okay? I'm going to see if we have any medicine. Whatever you do, stay still and act like you're sleeping, okay? If Dad comes in while I'm gone, just be still, alright?" The silver haired boy gazed down at the younger, sadness reflecting in his already aged eyes.
"Okay, Tsume. But hurwe, pwease," the little one stated in a tiny voice, his lisp ever present.
"I will, just stay quiet," Tsume ordered and silently crept out of the room, hoping that he didn't run into the drunkard. He closed the door as quietly as possible and nearly tip-toed to the bathroom, hissing as the worn floor creaked under his weight. He stopped, and when he was sure the coast was clear, he continued forward, carefully opening the bathroom door.
The smell hit him first. An iron-filled scent flooded through his nostrils, he almost vomiting at the odor. It was strong and polluted with something, something he never thought imaginable. His eyes grew wide at the sight. Any anger that was in him slowly dissolved, numbness following suit.
He heard the flies buzzing, whizzing around and around his head at almost a deafening volume, at the moment anyway. He was frozen, couldn't move, for the sight that befell his eyes would be one he'd never be able to rid himself of, as long as he lived.
"Hey, watch out!" a voice shouted through his thoughts, tearing him away from the grizzly scene. Tsume could feel himself being pushed away from the machine, the buzzing of it fading into the background of his mind. He heard more shouts and soon all the equipment came to a stand still.
He blinked twice, trying to regain his sense of sight, though double vision clearly blocked his view. He could see the faces of his co-workers swimming around him, but couldn't quite make them out. He felt a sudden jolt of pain in his hand, giving him a swift kick back to reality, releasing him from his strained sight.
Blood was oozing out of a deep cut on his left forearm, crimson staining his t-shirt and jeans. He looked down at himself to see that he was shaking, and badly at that. Cold wracked his body, and soon confusion settled in. His boss' voice snapped him out of it.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" a black haired man exclaimed in Tsume's paling face. "Are you trying to get yourself killed? Or do you just want to cut that thing off?" he remarked harshly, gesturing towards the bleeding wound.
Tsume didn't reply. He ignored the man's sarcasm and put pressure on the gash, his t-shirt ruining in the process. Not like he cared though.
"Oh, being a smartass, huh? Go home, kid. Your shift's over for the day," the man stated flatly, mumbling something about how, "kids and machines don't mix," and a few swears in between.
"I still have six more hours," Tsume replied darkly, ignoring the help from the men that still surrounded him and following the taller man. When he received no response, he sped up, dizziness catching him instantly.
"I don't care if you've got three more days, I said go home and don't come back 'til that thing's healed up! Got that?" the older man shot back, ignoring the stumbling Tsume.
"I'm scheduled all this week!" Tsume returned, not giving in. The wound was slowly clotting, though blood still adorned his clothes, he looking like he just walked out of a car accident.
"How badly do you need this job, kid? Cos one more word from you, and you won't be on any schedule of mine, understand?" And with that, the man disappeared behind an office door, leaving a determined Tsume behind.
Hesitantly, he made his way past the other men who had all but given up on trying to clean the blood off of him. Instead, they just watched quietly as they went back to their positions, waiting for his next outburst. But he didn't do anything. He left, grabbing his jacket with his good arm on the way out, not saying a word.
The chill of the night air hit him as soon as he made it outside, fall settling in its grooves. He shivered involuntarily as he walked down the deserted streets, not a soul in sight. The wound was finally beginning to register, pain electrocuting his arm without mercy, and he felt it with each and every step he took. He winced, clasping his hand around his arm, a stinging sensation hitting him the moment he touched it.
He could feel another wave of dizziness snake over his senses, and the urge to vomit overcame him. He stopped suddenly and doubled over, whatever contents that were in his stomach releasing themselves onto the concrete ground below. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve as he stood back up, his vision dancing before his eyes. Street lamps and shadows swirled around his eyelids, confusion running amuck through his brain. He steadied himself, leaning against the nearest wall for support.
The silver haired man closed his eyes tight, a distant ringing sound plaguing his ears. He finally caught his breath, it marked by small clouds of mist twirling from his lips into the chilly October air. He let his mind clear, though as much as he tried, his head was still invaded by faded voices and memories. Forcing himself to move, he started on the long walk home, stuffing his freezing hands into his pockets as he went.
The cut on his arm was still ever present and uninviting, but he pushed the pain away, blocking it out as best he could. His distant golden eyes scanned the empty streets before him. The farther he went, the less houses there seemed to be. And the ones that he did pass were at a level of condemnation at best. He felt a few pairs of eyes wonder over him as he hurried from street to street, but eventually, they lost interest in his ragged form and went back to their own lives.
A heavy cough forced its way out of his lungs, making him none too happy. His haunting eyes stole the night, looking through everything and anything that came across his path. His legs ached, constantly threatening to give out on him, but he went on, knowing that if he were to pass out on the way home, he'd probably never see it again. The way things were nowadays, nothing was guaranteed.
He stared off into the distance, a familiar chill greeting his spine. He shivered involuntarily, trying to hide it even though no one was around to see it. But he knew he could never look weak, especially when he was alone on these streets. Vulnerability was not a trait that he inherited, for if he had, surely, he'd just be another result of lost circumstance.
He was close to home now. He pulled the thin jacket tighter around him, trying to remember when it had gotten so cold. He could've sworn it was so much warmer the week before...
Stills of the event that had rendered him helpless before darted through his jaded conscious once more. At once, he could taste the scent instead of smelling it, the iron cutting through his senses and waking him at once. Crimson colored his sight again, the night air creeping under his skin. His eyes were wide at the picture running through his mind, the feeling of being ten again rushing through his head. His breathing was becoming more erratic, his heart palpitating in his scarred chest. He felt like he was going to have a heart attack!
He froze the moment his hand gripped the door knob, his body completely incapacitated. Unwanted tears formed in the corners of his eyes, the memory forcing itself upon him once more, and the more he fought it, the more eager it was to capture him in its malevolence; torturing him from the inside out.
No! He wasn't going to cry. He wouldn't allow himself the pleasure. He bit his lip, not caring that his teeth went straight through his flesh, blood spilling in a constricted river down his chin.
He was shivering now, almost violently as the memory etched itself across his brain, restricting his ability to think straight. He gripped the doorknob tighter, his knuckles growing paler in the moonlight. His eyes widened as the knob twisted unexpectedly in his hand, and his grasp was broken as the door opened, a pair of questioning eyes staring up at him.
"Tsume?"
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Author's note : Well, it's been quite awhile. A year actually. If anyone reads this, I used to go under the name lonegreywolf and wrote way too much Wolf's Rain fanfiction. I made many attempts at finishing the stories, but things happened and I never really got the chance. Now I'm back and ready for anything. Hopefully, I shall succeed in my endeavors this time. Well, let me know what you think. Comments are welcome. Oh, and let me know if I've become a bit rusty. Second chapter coming soon...
