The thundering footsteps up the stairs are the first indication that Raimei has returned home.
The second indication barrels across the room at an alarming speed to slap across his face in short order.
"Impressive," Raikou grins, peeling the packaging away from where it's plastered itself to his cheek, "I imagine that if this were even in the least bit breakable, you'd have shattered it into a million tiny pieces." He sets the package on the table with a loving pat and turns his attention back to the laptop computer sitting in from of him. "All of that training with the little ones must really be paying off," says, absentmindedly tapping the keyboard and fidgeting to rearrange his legs under the low sitting table without banging his knees. "Gau, what would be a good word to describe how that package flew over here? 'Soar' doesn't imply the right about of force and 'streak' just sounds so tacky…"
There is a quiet clatter from the kitchenette behind him as Gau stops stirring and slaps his chopsticks down on top of the pot. "What about 'launch?'"
"It doesn't quite convey the amount of viole-"
"It doesn't matter!" Raimei cuts them off before any sort of agreement can be reached, "Say it however you want – it doesn't change the fact that I am the only member of this family with a paying job and you are the one constantly spending all of our money!" She's already dropped her bag and wooden katana by the door and is lunging toward the table to snatch back the parcel she had abandoned with such violence only moments ago. "I didn't say anything when the electric blue shag rug showed up on the doorstep, and I was extra careful about ignoring the sixteen pairs of sequined boxer shorts that showed up the next day. But all of these things cost money, Raikou, and you and Gau haven't taken any jobs in ages-"
Gau slams his cooking pot against the burner. "That's not true, Raimei! Raikou has been incredibly busy! He has to reestablish contacts in the Nabari world and set up dossiers on people so we can tell who's trustworthy and who to keep a closer eye on. And he needs to look respectable while doing it, so of course he needs new clothes pretty frequently. And let's not even get into how we've been taking care of this apartment pretty much on our own. That roach infestation a few months back was really bad, and you can't say that we didn't do a good job getting rid of it! Even if the kitchen knives were a little bit dulled, we managed to get our hands on some shuriken eventually-"
This could go on for a bit, Raikou realizes, and it's only going to rile Raimei up even more. He quietly lifts a book from the table and contemplates. Back of the head? Small of the back? Left buttock? Ah!
The book soars, blindly, over his own shoulder.
Gau's squawk alerts him that the book has hit its intended target and the resulting silence assures him that "left buttock" was indeed the correct target. He clears his throat and starts again, "There hasn't been anything going on in the Nabari world that's required the involvement of the Shimizu Clan-"
"But that's just the thing!" She attempts to slam her fists down on the table, but realizes midswing that its top is far too low and crashes dramatically to her knees instead. "It's not as if 'Head of the Shimizu Clan' is a paying job! Even mom kept the dojo up and running to keep money coming in!"
"Raimei, if I could afford to buy you a dojo-"
"I already have a job in a dojo!"
He wrinkles his nose at this. "A city dojo."
"How can you turn up your nose like that after Mr. Takamoto has not only given me a job, but lets us live above his studio for next to nothing?"
She looks like she about to tear her hair from her head, so Raikou opts for a softer approach. "I'm not turning up my nose," he soothes, "I'm just saying that it lack the charm of a country dojo. That's all."
"We have no money!" This time her fists are much closer to the table and manage to rattle it enough to send his teacup tumbling off the edge. "What is keeping you from taking a job there too if you're not turning your nose up?"
This gives Raikou pause – not because it's a difficult question to answer, but because there are some things that are best not shared between siblings. Also, he's pretty certain that she'll never buy the line he's just concocted about the all-consuming terror that wide-eyed brats with katanas hefted at groin height stirs in him. No, she's far too shrewd for that. He sighs loudly and smooths the hair back from his face. "I just don't think I have the right disposition for dealing with children," he says carefully.
"What are you talking about?" she balks, "You have the perfect disposition for teaching kids. You're calm, patient, and you're good at matching skill levels while you're sparring."
"Yes, but-"
"But what?"
"It's just not going to work out," he says again. There's really no sense in arguing this – she won't be satisfied with anything he has to say, and he's not terribly good at lying. There's always the practical approach, he supposes. "I suppose I could find another paper-making shop-"
"Absolutely not," Raimei grinds out, "Not after what happened the last time."
"It was only one store-"
"It was three."
"Gau just got carried away. It was his first time acting as a salesman. It won't happen again."
"He was escorted off the properties and banned from ever coming back!"
"They didn't appreciate Raikou's artistic vision!" Gau insists, "It was insulting! His papers have been top sellers in better shops than those for years now. If they can't see that, then they don't deserve the business that they're lo-"
Back of the head.
"-gah!"
"Raimei, you really don't need to worry so much," Raikou sighs, "You shouldn't have to bear the burdens of the entire family. I'll curb my spending and Gau and I will find part time jobs just as soon as we finish profiling our new contacts."
Raimei pinches her eyes shut and breathes out a deep sigh, but the slight curve of her lips shows that she knows this is the best deal she is likely to negotiate. "Thank you," she says and hauls herself to her feet with a bright smile, "And since you guys will need all the time you can get to finish with that, I'll take over the house accounts in the meanwhile."
"You really don't need to do that."
"No, I insist," she says and skips over to the coffee table that doubles as both a desk and junk drawer to search out the ledger, "You shouldn't have to bear all the burden yourselves either."
"Gau is really quite good with it-"
"Gau lets you buy sequined boxer shorts."
The look in her eyes is enough to freeze his blood in his veins, and Raikou knows he has been out maneuvered. It's almost frightening that she was able to pull off a feint like that – clearly she's been spending too much time around Miharu. Damn. So be it, then. "Suit yourself," he shrugs, and turns his attention back to the laptop, "Though I'm sure you'll find that we're not in such dire financial straits as you seem to think…"
He taps away at the keyboard in silence for a few moments as she pores through the pages of the ledger. Gau bangs away in the kitchenette. The lack of conversation is maddening.
"Gau," he says finally, if only to break the silence, "What's a good word for when you pour something, and it's kind of viscous. It doesn't really splash, but…"
"Drizzle?" comes the reply.
"Ah, yes. Thank you, Gau."
More silence. He types a few characters, then deletes them. And repeats.
"Raikou."
Here it comes. "Yes, Raimei?"
"Why are there deposits into our account of between 10,000 and 60,000 yen from Amazon Japan every few weeks?"
"They were very lucrative weeks," he says simply, and intensifies his concentration on the keyboard.
"Lucrative?" she says. He can hear the waiver in her voice that belies how agitated she really is by this, but she manages to keep a mostly even keel. "Where is this coming from? Do you have some sort of secret job? Are you back doing assassinations? Because that's really not-"
"It's not that," he says sharply. Her mouth snaps closed, chin shaking, and he holds out a hand to calm her. "That's not how we're operating now. Please trust me."
She takes a deep breath. "I can't trust you when you're keeping secrets from me."
He sighs. He knows she's right. Truly, he does. On the other hand…
"Have you been selling our things on Amazon?" she demands, "Is that what happened to my iPod?"
"No, I told you. That was unfortunate collateral damage in our battle with the roaches," he assures her, "And I bought you a new one."
"But where did the money come from to buy that?"
He knows now that he's not going to win this. Maybe he should have taken the job in the dojo to begin with. She's absolutely terrifying when she's like this and, as much as it pains him to admit, she very well might make a better family head than himself. He pulls in a deep breath. "I've been self-publishing," he admits.
"Oh," she says, completely nonplussed. She huffs out a sigh of exasperation and shoots him an annoyed glare. "Why didn't you just say so? You were acting like you had some shady night job that would tar the Shimizu name forever."
"Haha, yeah, I suppose," Raikou agrees, feeling a tremendous weight lift from his shoulders. Maybe now she'll be satisfied and-
"You must be pretty good," she says, dropping the ledger on the table and heading toward him, "To be making that kind of money. What kind of stuff do you write?"
"Oh, nothing, really," he waves this off and closes the laptop before she has the opportunity to leer over his shoulder, "This and that."
"Oh, don't be that way," she insists and plops down next to him on the floor, "Let me read some of it!"
"It's a bit embarrassing-"
"You're just saying that because you're my brother," she laughs and swipes the computer before he has a chance to react. "You've always been like this. Ever since we were little, you never liked to share anything you did for fear someone would be overly criti…cal…"
She stares at the screen in mute horror for a long moment before snapping the lid back down and shoving it back into his lap. Slowly, she gets to her feet and wanders into the kitchenette.
"Do we have any beer?"
"You're too young to drink," Gau insists, but the banging refrigerator signals that she's not in a listening mood.
She slams the refrigerator door shut. "No beer."
"Raimei-"
She rounds on him. "Just tell me…" Her hands ball into trembling fists. "Tell me you're not publishing this smut under our family name."
"Of course not," he begins to say, but it cut off by Gau's simultaneous expulsion of "Not unless he's legally going by Donatella Twilight." Traitor.
"That's good." Raimei turns on her heel and goes to collect her wooden katana. "I'll be…downstairs."
"Alright," Raikou says, and waves warmly to her as she scoots out the door. He waits until the latch clicks before burying his face in his hands. "She's never going to forgive me."
"She'll be fine," Gau assures him. He sets down a plate of curry and joins Raikou at the table. "She probably won't think twice about it tomorrow."
"Maybe…"
"Do you have the next chapter for me to edit?"
"Not really in the mood to finish it."
"I suppose not." Gau frowns and grabs the forgotten parcel from the table. "What did you get?"
"Oh!" This perks Raikou up a bit and he takes the package from Gau enthusiastically. "It's nothing much, just a new scarf because it's getting cold." He pulls it from the wrapping and it is just as fantastic as the description had bragged – bright orange, plush, and covered with a thousand downy hairs. It wasn't real angora, but you couldn't afford everything on a poor writer's paycheck. He rubs it against his cheek and feels slightly better. "You really think she'll forgive me?"
"She's forgiven you much worse," Gau lays a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"I suppose the shuriken in the shower head was pretty bad."
"Yes, that too."
Raikou spoons up a bit of the curry and sighs. It'll be fine, he convinces himself. Better than fine. They'll continue onward, just as they had been doing, and share the burdens of reinstating the Shimizu Clan. She'll pry less, and he'll be less secretive.
To a point.
Some burdens just aren't meant to be shared between siblings.