Astronaut
"I want to be an astronaut," Mitsukuni says, and Takashi pauses.
The pause goes unnoticed, mistaken for his customary silence. But a pause it is.
Then, "Un."
There is a touch of shame (due to the pause), but he is prepared now. For the extra schooling, the family opposition, the inherent difficulties for someone so small. Takashi, of course, will aim for ground control. Mitsukuni will need support.
Haninozuka-sama explodes. Words like "outrage," "humiliation," "impossibility," and "disinherit" cross mightily with "dream," "pride," "ganbaru" and "no regrets." Heels are dug deeper than Takashi had expected. Not deeper than he can fathom, though. He is, after all, prepared.
"If you abandon him to this, I will not be ashamed of you," his father tells him. Takashi understands. They are each loyal men. His father's loyalty is to Haninozuka-sama. With Haninozuka so opposed, Morinozuka cannot be supportive. But Takashi can be. Must be. Is.
Yasuchika is disgusted but delighted – Mitsukuni's disinheritance can mean only gain for him. (Yasuchika's personality issues have always indicated to Takashi a criminal laxity on the part of his own little brother.) Satoshi is torn. (Further evidence of laxity. Takashi rebukes him severely. "Where do your loyalties lie?" he asks him.)
Mitsukuni remains resolved, and the large, rabbit-grateful eyes he turns on Takashi are the only acknowledgement Takashi needs: without him, Mitsukuni would have crumbled by now. They share an apartment near campus, the meanness of which starts rumors that will prevent women from ever looking at either of them. With barely room for one futon in the studio, how can they sleep without sharing? Disgusting. It circulates like dust bunnies blown about the floor by a summer oscillating fan. But Mitsukuni doesn't mind because he is focused, and Takashi doesn't mind because Mitsukuni doesn't. Takashi works two jobs to keep the place, in addition to studying. He allows Mitsukuni to have one only. A waiter at a patisserie. He works magic with the clientele.
Mitsukuni helps him with the math. History had always been Takashi's preference. But there are few relevant history classes, and a very great deal of math. Takashi struggles. He debates. Without studying, he can work full time, can support Mitsukuni more handsomely. Can allow Mitsukuni to quit his job at the patisserie (although he may not want to). But then who will follow him through the exams, the trials, the strenuous gravity training? The nature of support – it was not a debate Takashi had ever intended to have with himself.
"You know what? If you want to quit school, I won't mind," Mitsukuni tells him one day. They're eating dinner. Mitsukuni is seated on the sill. He speaks into the window. Takashi watches the small back and feels like a traitor, although he is not sure why.
"Ah," he says, although he will not quit. Not now. He will send Mitsukuni into space, with his own finger on the bright red button. That was his decision, wasn't it? He was prepared, no? Then why let Mitsukuni wonder about his resolve? Why let his only family see him waver? Impossible. "No need," he says, and it's true. He eats the last noodle from the bowl of instant ramen, and it tastes like finality.
"I want to join the host club," Mitsukuni says.
Takashi pauses. Then, "Un." At least he doesn't want to be an astronaut.