Jealous Impulse
Thomas Arclight pressed himself against the wall beside the open doorway. He had been passing by when a stray sideward glance had revealed his younger brother, Mihael, sitting in the middle of the room on a large square rug bordered with pastel-colored numbers with his back turned. A smirk tugged at Thomas's lips as he listened to Mihael.
"Together we can save the galaxy!"
Taking care not to alert his brother, Thomas knelt down and peered into the room.
Mihael lifted an action figure with large, white robot wings and gold accents over his head as though it were flying, contributing to the illusion with whooshing noises.
It took all of Thomas's self-control to keep from snickering at the absurdity of the scene.
"The Mayan empire is in trouble! We have to help them!" Mihael turned, just missing a glimpse of his brother shrinking back. He lay down on his belly and stood the action figure up on the rug so that he could rest his head in his hands. "What foe do we have to defeat in order to save them?" he asked the toy as he twirled his feet together in the air. "The eclipse, you say? Because they forgot to make a sacrifice? I know, we can move the moon so that the sun can't cover it!" Mihael rolled over onto his back and picked up the action figure. A surprised squeak escaped his mouth when the toy was wrenched from his hands.
Above him stood Thomas, leaning down with a smug grin as he dangled the action figure out of Mihael's reach in one hand while the other rested on his hip. "Aren't you a little old to be playing in here?"
A small frown twisted Mihael's lips and a light flush colored his face. "G-give it back!" he demanded, clambering to his feet. He jumped for the toy, but Thomas lifted it just out of his reach and laughed.
"If you want him back you'll have take him by force!" Thomas leapt out of the way as Mihael lunged at him. He danced around his brother, reveling in the furious way the boy clenched his hands into fists, as though he was willing to fight over the toy. He allowed himself to be backed into a corner, where his brother was able to catch his arm in one hand. Thomas dropped the action figure on the ground and kicked it across the room before twisting in Mihael's stunned grip and wrapping his hand around the boy's wrist. "You shouldn't play with dolls anymore, you know. You'll attract bullies."
"Y-you're the only bully!" Mihael choked out. "And I can play if I want!"
"Next time you should pick a room that has a door on it," Thomas replied. "You're just lucky it was me."
"I don't see how." Mihael turned away and started to walk across the room to pick up the toy his brother had kicked, but Thomas's grip tightened. "Please let go," he murmured.
After a split second's hesitation, Thomas released Mihael's wrist. He leaned back against the wall as his brother picked up the action figure and looked at it for a moment before tossing it back into the toy bin where he'd found it.
When Mihael turned to face Thomas again, he was wearing a small smile. "It's about time for dinner anyway. I'll forgive you if you give me your dessert."
Thomas strode across the room and ruffled his brother's pink hair. "Fat chance."
They left the playroom side by side, Thomas's hands stuffed into his pockets, Mihael's clasped in front of himself.
:::
"Higher! Higher!" Mihael giggled.
Thomas obliged, pushing his brother harder and stepping back to watch the swing fly into the air. While all the other children in the orphanage had stayed inside to play after dinner, the Arclight brothers had snuck outside to enjoy the privacy of the waning twilight. Thomas leaned back against the metal bar that supported the swingset and smiled at his brother. Everything was okay like this. Even though their father was missing. Even though their eldest brother Chris had left them here. There was nothing they could do to change that. For now, Thomas was happy enough just to monopolize the love and attention of his fifteen-year-old brother.
From the top of a swing, Mihael caught sight of something happening at the gate of the facility. He drug his feet into the ground until the swing's arc was low enough for him to jump. "Big brother," he said, pointing toward where he'd seen a small group gathered. "there's something going on over there." Without waiting for Thomas's reply, he started across the grounds.
"H-hey, where do you think you're going?" Thomas straightened up and hurried after Mihael. "Who said you could just go running off like that?" he demanded, a hint of irritation tainting his former contentment.
"I want to see what's happening," replied Mihael without so much as a backward glance.
Thomas caught a handful of his brother's shirt and forced Mihael to a stop. "It's probably nothing," he said. "It's certainly not worth your attention." To Thomas's surprise, Mihael uncurled his brother's fingers from his clothes and continued forward. "Hey!"
"I still want to see."
The irritation swelled inside of Thomas, and a glare set in his eyes. "Fine then, I can swing by myself."
"I'll be back in a minute!" Mihael replied before breaking into a light jog.
Thomas kicked the ground. "Tch. I don't need you anyway. Stupid." He walked back to the swing and sat down, rocking back and forth, his expression sullen.
Mihael hid himself behind a tree and peered around at the people he'd seen from the swing. One was the headmaster of the orphanage, the same broad-shouldered man who had led him and Thomas into the orphanage the day Chris had dropped them off. The other two were a young woman with long, red hair, and a boy who looked a couple of years younger than Mihael himself who sported spiky blue hair.
"…be fine here," the headmaster said.
"Thank you," replied the girl. "I'm sorry I have to leave you here, Yuma," she said to the boy. "I'll come back as soon as I can."
Mihael bit back a wave of sadness. Chris had said the same when he'd left him and Thomas. Several impulses fired through his body, from running out and hugging the boy to yelling at the woman not to lie. The impulses fizzled and died when the boy spoke.
"You heard the old guy, sis, I'll be fine! With my kattobingu, I'll be running this place by the time you get back!" His laugh was genuine.
The woman knelt down and hugged her brother before standing back and watching as he walked alongside the headmaster as though he were about to spend the night playing in Heartland's amusement park rather than what could be the remainder of his childhood in an orphanage.
Thomas's rocking became more and more frantic as he waited for his brother to return. "What's taking so long?" he muttered to himself. The chains that held the swing pressed into his palms as he clenched his hands. Despite his growing mix of anger and anxiety, he remained in the swing, too stubborn to go look for Mihael. He dug his toe into the sand beneath him, imagining that he was grinding whatever had distracted Mihael deeper and deeper into the depths of hell. The hole was several centimeters deep by the time he heard fast approaching footsteps. "You took your sweet time," he sneered.
"There's…there's someone new…" Mihael panted.
Thomas glared up at his brother. "So? This is an orphanage. It's where unwanted boys like us are left to rot." He leaned forward in the swing, poison dripping from his words. "Did he cry? How deep was the puddle of tears?"
"He wasn't even upset," answered Mihael, paying no attention to the malicious intent of Thomas's questions. "He told his sister he'd be fine until she came back, with his kat…kattubingo. Or something like that."
"Hmph." Thomas crossed his arms. "His sister, huh? Well we'll just see how long his kattubingo lasts here. I give it a week, if he's lucky."
Mihael looked off into the distance, toward the main doors of the orphanage. "I don't know…"
Thomas resolved to strangle the kattubingo out of the boy if that was what it took. "It's getting dark," he said, standing and holding out a hand to his brother. "Let's go back inside."
"Okay." Mihael slipped his hand into his brother's, which closed hard around his fingers. He looked up to find a hardened expression on Thomas's face. "I'm sorry I took so long," he muttered as a belated apology.
Thomas neither answered nor looked back, but his grip loosened on Mihael's hand.
:::
Mihael had insisted on dashing outside the moment he'd seen it through the hall window.
Standing on the same swing that Thomas had waited on the night previous was a boy—Yuma, Mihael had said—swinging so high that he was almost level with the top bar before he arced back toward earth. "I'm going to do kattobingu!" he declared to the group of boys that had gathered. His plan as he'd stated it was to swing in a circle around the top of the swingset and then jump off.
Thomas's scoff mixed in with the booing coming from the rest of the crowd. This Yuma was an idiot who deserved all the worlds of pain this stunt was sure to bring him. A stolen sideward glance was enough to gather that Mihael thought otherwise. Thomas rolled his eyes at the mix of worry and awe on his little brother's face. "It's not going to work," he said.
"Maybe he can do it," Mihael countered. Of course he knew that Yuma would only end up hurting himself. But something about the boy's determination made Mihael want him to succeed. Mihael clasped his hands together and looked on, hope sparkling in his eyes.
"Kattobingu!" Yuma declared at the top of his final backward swing. He flew forward.
Mihael gasped as Yuma lost his grip on the chain and fell about a meter, landing on his back. He covered his mouth with his hands when the swing came back down and hit Yuma square in the face. Even as the other boys laughed, Mihael broke through the crowd and caught the swing before it could strike another blow. He knelt down beside Yuma. "Are you all right?"
Yuma rubbed his face and groaned.
Anger rose in Thomas's throat when Mihael reached out and touched Yuma's nose. "It's a fucking swing," he muttered. "There's no way he's that hurt." Although not too deep down, Thomas wished that he was. It would sure teach him to try stupid stunts like that again. "Mihael, let's go back inside."
"I'll be there in a minute."
Thomas staggered back a step as though he'd been stabbed. "What?"
Mihael looked back at him and said, "I'm going to take him to the nurse."
Laughter erupted from Yuma. "I don't need a nurse! I'm fine!" His laugh became a sputtering cough and he groaned.
"Did you hear that, Mihael? Let's go."
"You're not fine, and I'm taking you to the nurse!" Mihael pulled Yuma to his feet and dragged him forward toward the main doors of the facility. "I'll meet you at lunch, big brother," he called over his shoulder.
Thomas's eyes flashed. He glared daggers into Yuma's back as the two grew smaller and smaller, until they finally disappeared inside the sprawling building. He kicked the swingset, causing it to emit a low vibrating wail that followed him as he stalked inside.
:::
Mihael's eyes drifted between Yuma, who lay on the examination table with a bag of ice resting against his face, and the nurse, who was rummaging through a cabinet, looking for a bottle of painkillers.
"You're going to experience moderate back pain for at least a couple weeks," the nurse said as she filled a paper cup with water and handed it to Yuma along with two pills.
Yuma popped the pills into his mouth and swallowed the water in a single gulp before bolting upright. "I feel better already, Miss…owww…" He rubbed his back, wincing.
"Lay back down for a few minutes, until the painkillers kick in," she commanded.
He did so, moaning the whole way down.
"Make sure he doesn't sit up until I come back."
"Yes nurse!" Mihael replied as she left the room, closing the door behind herself. He stood from the chair he'd taken beside the examination table and smiled down at his charge. "Sounds like you're going to be okay after all."
A grin spread across Yuma's face. " 'Course I am! As soon as she lets me go I'm gonna try again!"
Yuma made to sit back up, but Mihael placed a hand on the boy's chest and pressed him back down onto the table. "I don't think so. You're not getting anywhere near that swing again if you plan on trying that impossible stunt."
"Nothing is impossible with kattobingu!" Yuma protested. "My dad said so!"
Mihael cocked an eyebrow. "I don't think your dad would want you hurting yourself in the name of kattobingu, Yuma."
"Huh? How do you know my name?" Yuma asked.
"I saw your sister drop you off here last night. My name is Mihael, by the way." He lifted himself onto the examination table and sat at Yuma's waist. He took Yuma's extended hand and shook it. "I live here with one of my brothers, Thomas."
"One of?"
Mihael nodded and looked out the window at the fluffy white clouds passing across the bright blue sky outside. "Our older brother Chris left us here when Dad disappeared. He said he'd come back for us when he found him." He looked back at Yuma, whose eyes were locked onto the ceiling. "What is it?"
"My dad went missing too. Akari and I were living with Grandma, but she passed away. Akari is an amateur reporter, so she can't support us both right now. I'm staying here until she can make enough money to keep me at home."
Sympathy stirred inside Mihael's heart. He knew how it felt to be left behind without any means for escape. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be!" Yuma responded, surprising Mihael with his change of tone. "Akari promised she'll come back, and I trust her!" He rose up onto his elbows. "Don't you trust your brother, Mihael?"
With a sad smile, Mihael pushed Yuma back down onto the table again. "Of course I do," he lied. "He should be coming for Thomas and me any day now."
"That's the spirit!" said Yuma, missing out on all the nonverbal cues Mihael had given off. "I bet he's on his way right now!"
Mihael looked out the window once more, hiding his increasing sadness from Yuma. "Yeah…"
:::
Thomas wandered the halls of the orphanage, fuming. At first he stomped around with his hands in his pockets, but soon enough his anger boiled over and he lashed out at his surroundings, punching walls and tilting pictures, kicking rugs and scuffing tile. At last Thomas came to a stop in the middle of an empty corridor that he didn't recognize. He turned back and observed the destruction he'd left in his wake without the slightest twinge of guilt. He stuffed his hands back into his pockets and turned right down the next hall, putting distance between himself and the mess he'd made; he had no intention of cleaning up after himself. "Stupid Mihael helping that dumbass…" he muttered. Thomas ran a hand through his blond bangs as he continued walking his aimless path. Sometimes he hated his younger brother's naturally caring nature; right now he wanted to squeeze it right out of him. His hands clenched at his sides. All of this was the fault of that idiot Yuma and his kattobingu bullshit. Thomas snorted.
Above him a bell began to ring, signifying that it was lunch time.
After making a few more turns, Thomas walked past a familiar room and was able to orient himself toward the dining hall. He forced a more pleasant expression to replace the burning irritation he had been wearing since Mihael disappeared with Yuma. By now his brother would have learned just how stupid the kid and his kattobingu really were and that would be that. He picked up two plates and sat at the far end of the table at the back of the room, where he and Mihael always sat because Mihael liked to look out the windows while he ate. Thomas lounged back in his chair, balancing it on two legs, and focused his gaze on the door.
Mihael and Yuma entered the dining hall together, Mihael's hand resting on Yuma's back.
Thomas had to grab the table to keep from falling backward. He dropped his chair onto all of its legs. After shooting a fiery look across the room, he bent over his plate and began shoveling his food into his mouth. He gave no reaction when he caught Mihael pulling out a chair, despite the rising temperature of the blood inside his veins.
"Oh…I'll go get you a plate!" Mihael said before vanishing into the sea of boys.
A hand appeared over Thomas's plate. "You're Mihael's older brother, right?"
For a split second, he considered biting the intruding appendage off at the wrist, but managed to control his irritation enough to turn his head and offer a strained smile. "Yes, I'm Thomas," he replied, unable to conceal the amount of effort he was expending to maintain a passive façade. "Yuma, isn't it? How's your back feeling?"
Yuma rubbed his neck and laughed. "Better than ever! Nothing can stop my…owww…"
"Is that so?" Thomas could see opportunity unfolding before him, too perfect to ignore. He leaned forward and slapped Yuma on the back a couple of times, perhaps a little too hard for the gesture to be contrived as good-natured. He relished the way Yuma's face contorted in agony. He turned back to his plate and took a civilized bite of his lunch, pleased with his handiwork.
Mihael returned with Yuma's plate and sat it down in front of him. "If you need anything I can get it for you. The nurse said you shouldn't strain yourself."
"It's not that bad," Yuma said through a mouthful of rice.
Thomas reached out and yanked Yuma's ear. "Tell my brother thank you."
Mihael ripped Thomas's hand away from Yuma. "It's fine." He took the chair between the other two and glared at his older brother before starting his own lunch, initiating the silence that hung among them for the remainder of mealtime.
:::
"I get the feeling that your brother doesn't like me," said Yuma.
Mihael sighed. "So do I." Thomas had left the dining hall without a word upon finishing his lunch, and Mihael hadn't missed the many furious glances he'd cast over his shoulder on the way out. He felt a twinge of guilt for not having gone after him. With gentle pressure against the small of Yuma's back, Mihael steered the other boy though a doorway, into the empty playroom. "I like to stay in here during the afternoon, when everyone else is outside," he said, trying to redirect the conversation away from Thomas. Mihael rose up onto his toes and pulled a deck of cards from a shelf just above his head. "Do you know how to play poker?"
Yuma lowered himself onto the rug as he spoke, wincing. "Seems kinda weird that your brother would freak out so much over a new friend."
A frown settled on Mihael's lips. "It's not, really." He sat down cross-legged across from Yuma and took the cards out of the box. "Before Chris left us here, we lived in a big house with no one to keep us company but the dog. Chris and Dad were always off researching, so it was just me and Thomas most of the time. He's used to having my undivided attention." Mihael shuffled the cards as he stared off into space. "We were even homeschooled before coming here." The cards spilled onto the floor when the two small stacks he was shuffling together missed each other. "Oops." He bent forward to collect him and his hand met Yuma's. A spark of friction passed between their fingers and Mihael jerked his hand back. "Sorry," he said, "didn't mean to shock you." Mihael looked away and gathered the cards that had fallen at his side. He thought maybe his face felt a little warmer than it had been before. He took the cards that Yuma offered him and started dealing them.
"One question."
"What's that?" asked Mihael.
Yuma grinned. "What are the rules?"
:::
Thomas slinked away from the playroom with his hands in his pockets, his eyes narrowed. "He's used to having my undivided attention," he mocked, making a face. "Tch." What was so special about Yuma anyway? Boys got hurt all the time, but that had never prompted Mihael to come running to their sides. Thomas shouldered open a door and stepped out into the bright afternoon light. He walked forward, not caring much where he was headed. Wherever he went, he was determined to entertain himself and prove to Mihael that he did not have the attention craving that his little brother had implied.
Ahead of him was the sandbox, filled with younger boys working together to build a sand kingdom. They were all laughing, even when a portion of the castle in the center would crumble and come tumbling down on the sand huts below. Thomas veered around them, averting his gaze to the side. They were all lucky that he wasn't in as destructive a mood as he'd been before lunchtime, or the kingdom might have met with its own Gojira. Thomas did not stop walking until he reached the fence that separated the orphanage from the outside world. He paused there for a while, looking out at the street, along which few cars passed. The orphanage wasn't located in a residential or even busy part of Heartland City, which was just as well. All the less potential of the boys trying to escape, not that they ever tried.
Thomas decided that he was going to find a book to read, and turned back toward the orphanage. As he approached the sandbox, he noticed that the kingdom had been razed to the ground while the boys who had built it cried; Gojira must have come after all. He made to pass around the scene of destruction, but his path was blocked by a boy twice his breadth and many centimeters taller. Thomas glanced up into a smirking face and frowned. "Excuse me," he said, his words curt.
"No." The boy shoved Thomas backward.
A low growl rose in the back of Thomas's throat; he could feel a vein in his neck beginning to throb. "Move," he demanded in a low voice.
The boy laughed and took a wide stance. "I don't think you heard me," he said, reaching out to grab the front of Thomas's shirt, "I said—"
Without a second thought, Thomas caught the boy's arm and twisted it around with one hand. With his other fist, he punched the boy square across the jaw. Thomas kneed him in the groin for good measure and watched with a sardonic grin as the boy dropped to the ground, whimpering. Thomas took a step forward, but was stopped by a tug on the back of his shirt. He turned to see one of the boys from the sandbox smiling up at him.
"Thank you," the little boy said.
A chorus of cheers broke out among the rest of the group and the boys began to crowd around Thomas, exclaiming how awesome he was.
The attention took Thomas by surprise, but he couldn't say that he wasn't enjoying it. In their eyes, he was no less than a demi-god. His previous anger melted away into self-satisfaction as he soaked up the glory raining down on him.
One of the smallest of the group took Thomas's hand and pulled on it until Thomas relented and bent down. In Thomas's ear, the boy whispered, "What's your name?"
"Thomas," he replied, trying to keep the smirk out of his smile.
"King Thomas saved the kingdom!" the little boy declared. The chant spread until the entire circle was dancing around as they proclaimed their loyalty to King Thomas.
Within minutes, a makeshift crown of sticks and grass sat atop Thomas's head while he lounged against a nearby tree, overseeing the reconstruction of his kingdom.
:::
Yuma yawned and stretched his arms above his head. It looked as though the painkillers the nurse had given him for the night had already kicked in. "I'm gonna sleep like a baby tonight!" he proclaimed.
Mihael giggled against his hand. "Just remember that we have school tomorrow."
A slight grimace settled on Yuma's face. "Oh yeah." A moment later he beamed at Mihael. "We can walk to school together, at least, even though we aren't in the same class!"
"Aren't you in junior high, though?"
"Yeah?" Yuma replied, raising a single quizzical eyebrow.
With a shake of his head, Mihael said, "My big brother and I go to the high school. It's in the opposite direction."
Yuma looked surprised for a moment, but then shrugged. He reached out and pushed the door in front of him open. "Night, then!"
Mihael waved as Yuma disappeared, lingering a moment after the door had clicked shut before continuing down the hall and into the room where he shared a bunk bed with Thomas.
When Mihael walked in, Thomas was leaning against the wall on the top bunk, still wearing his crown and surrounded by an assortment of leaves and flowers that had been picked from the trees outside and presented to him by his newfound fans as gifts. "How was your day, little brother?"
Mihael was thankful that he and Thomas were the only present two of the six boys who called this room their own. He feared that his conversation would be heading downhill within a matter of sentences. "I had fun spending time with Yuma. Where did you get all of that…uh…"
Thomas's pleased smirk widened. "My subjects have paid me tribute."
"Uh…huh…" Mihael unbuttoned his shirt and slipped out of his shoes before climbing into the lower bunk. "You didn't have much trouble becoming popular."
Now that he was out of his brother's sight, Thomas allowed his expression to contort into one of annoyance. He focused on keeping his voice steady as he spoke. "I'm good at keeping myself entertained."
"That's good," Mihael replied as he settled down under his blankets. "Now maybe you won't be so jealous of Yuma."
A strangled noise came from the back of Thomas's throat. He forced his face back into a smirk and leaned down over the edge of his bunk to look Mihael in the eye. "I'm not jealous of Yuma."
"Of course you are," said Mihael as he turned over on his side. He gave a long yawn and closed his eyes. "But I hope you'll learn to accept that I have a friend. Good night, big brother."
Thomas reined in the spark of fury that smoldered inside of him and threw his blanket over himself without another word, sending his gifts flying.
:::
Thomas faked a smile as he walked back to the orphanage from school, surrounded by a group of boys Mihael's age who he assumed had been targeted by the same bully as the sandbox boys. He wished that Mihael had been able to walk home with him today instead of having to stay after school to take a test.
"Will you teach us to fight, Thomas?" they asked, each louder than the next.
He held up his hands to quiet them down, resisting all temptation to strangle their wretched enthusiasm right out of them. "I don't encourage fighting," he said. "You would all be better off if no one knew how." Thomas wondered whether his temperament was suited to this popularity as he passed through the gate to the facility. The ground beneath him crackled as though he was stepping on dry leaves. Curious, he looked down and saw that it was a sheet of paper. Thomas picked it up and read the name written at the top. "Tsukumo…Yuma." Upon taking a glance around, he realized that there were papers flying across the ground on the gentle breeze. "Stupid bastard," muttered Thomas under his breath. Just as he was about to allow the paper to join its kin, a dismayed howl caught his attention.
Yuma ran at the papers that were flying away, jumping to catch the ones that had been lifted above his head by the wind. He tried to stuff them back into his book bag, but they poured out with unrelenting fury. "Dammit, dammit, dammit!"
A smirk spread across Thomas's lips. "Eheh…" He could have stood there until dark watching as the boy's desperation was multiplied by each paper lost, had revenge not taken form in his mind. Thomas strode out from the fanboys encircling him and caught a paper that was blown his way. Within minutes he had more than half of Yuma's runaway notes and assignments in hand, the rest safely tucked away into the boy's latched book bag. "I'll hold onto these," he said. "Let's take them to your bed before you lose them again."
The expression on Yuma's face was nothing short of pure bewilderment. "Thank you?" After a moment more of visible puzzling, he started toward the entrance to the building, Thomas keeping stride.
"You look surprised," Thomas commented, forcing all hint of amusement out of his voice.
Yuma furrowed his eyebrows and worked his mouth, stuttering a little before coming up with coherent words. "I…uh, well, yeah. I mean, just yesterday—"
"Mihael and I had a talk last night." Beneath his faked smile, Thomas thought that the confusion on Yuma's face almost fit better than the agonized expression he'd had at lunch the day before. Almost. "I decided that since he considers you his friend, then I should consider you mine."
"Oh." Yuma grinned up at Thomas. "Where is Mihael, by the way?"
Thomas could have gagged on the cheer that emanated from the boy. "He had to take a test. He said he'd be back by dinner."
With his shoulder, Yuma opened the door to his room. "I was hoping that he could help me with my math. I don't get this algebra stuff."
"I'm pretty good at math," Thomas said, in an instant deciding that his own homework was less of a priority than his half-baked idea of revenge.
:::
"Go fish!" said Mihael.
With a groan, Yuma leaned down and drew a card from the pool. He looked at it and frowned. "Aw man!"
Thomas concentrated on not rolling his eyes as he examined his own hand, wondering all the while who had been bored enough to invent this stupid game in the first place. The only satisfaction that he could derive from playing was that he was winning. "Yuma, do you have any eights?" he asked, repeating the question that the boy had just asked Mihael. He took the card from Yuma's fingers, wearing a polite smile, then plucked the other eights from his hand and fanned them out to show him. "You should have asked me," he said, before laying down the pile of eights beside his collection of aces, fours, and fives.
"Maybe we should shuffle the deck together and try again," Mihael offered. "You don't seem to be having much luck, Yuma." Mihael sat behind the threes and sixes.
Shaking his head, Yuma said, "No! I can win this! I just have to use my kattobingu!"
"That's the spirit!" Thomas patted Yuma on the back, the gesture far gentler than it had been just a week ago.
Mihael laughed with the other two. He didn't know what had prompted Thomas to befriend Yuma, but he was grateful for whatever it had been. That day at school he had worried that Thomas would remain angry for several more days, if not weeks. The anxiety had been so great that he'd been unable to complete his English test and had had to request more time after school, which the teacher had granted only because Mihael had an outstanding academic record otherwise. Coming back to the orphanage to find Thomas and Yuma sitting together with a small crowd of Thomas's fans had been a heavy weight off of Mihael's shoulders. His gaze slid over to where Yuma sat at his left. The way that Yuma was determined to win the game against all odds was cute. A small smile stole its way onto his lips as Yuma's face lit up with sudden realization.
"Hey, little brother, it's your turn." Thomas raised an eyebrow at the startle he'd seemed to have given his brother. Despite Thomas's best efforts to steal Yuma's attention from him, Mihael hadn't shown even a hint of the jealousy that burned inside of his brother. The botched attempt at revenge for being ignored had done nothing but please Mihael. Thomas allowed himself to narrow his eyes just a fraction.
Yuma tapped on Thomas's knee. "Do you have any kings?"
He handed his two cards over without a word.
"Yeah!" Yuma threw down his four kings and jumped to his feet, dancing around in a tiny circle. "My kattobingu shines again!" He dropped back down to the ground and leaned over into Mihael's face. "Got any nines?"
Mihael felt his temperature rise several degrees and he leaned back on instinct. "Um…um…" He stared into the large red eyes that hovered in front of him, flustered.
"Your cards are in your hand, stupid." What was Mihael looking at Yuma like that for, anyway? With some difficulty, he resisted the urge to make a noise of disgust. Mihael couldn't like Yuma that well. Thomas would have preferred being outside amongst his drooling fanboys to watching his brother fawn over this dumbass. At least the fanboys paid him their undivided attention.
A faint hint of pink spread across Mihael's face. "I-I know that!" he insisted. His hands shook just enough for it to be noticeable as he handed over a nine to Yuma.
Grinning, Yuma turned once again to Thomas. "Nines?"
Thomas's irritation boiled over. "Tch. Go fish." He watched his brother out of the corner of his eye, the way the boy's eyes kept darting over to steal a glance at Yuma, the way his lowered his head a little each time he returned to looking at his cards. Strings of profanities ran through Thomas's head. Now he had to deal with the possibility of his little brother getting a boyfriend. A slow smirk made its way onto Thomas's lips. So baby brother had a crush on Yuma, did he?
"I'm gonna do kattobingu!"
Mihael's laugh drowned out the chuckle that echoed in the back of Thomas's throat.
:::
Thomas leaned against the doorframe as he watched Yuma all but fly onto the top bunk. He could only tolerate the expression of pure glee on the boy's face in light of the destruction to come.
"I can't believe they gave you so many," Yuma said, his eyes twinkling as he lifted up the stack of cakes hidden under Thomas's pillow. He lifted up a yellow one and a chocolate one and appraised them. A moment later he tossed the chocolate one to the side, ripped open the package of the yellow cake, and ate the entire thing in one shameless bite. "It's so good!" he tried to exclaim with his mouth full.
"I'm glad you like them," Thomas replied, climbing up onto the bunk to join Yuma. He tried his best to hide his smirk. "When my fans started laying them in front of me, I wasn't sure what I was going to do with all of them." Leaning over Yuma, he grabbed a handful of the cakes and put them aside. "Just remember to leave some for Mihael so he can have them when he finishes showering."
Yuma leaned back against the wall at the head of Thomas's bed and opened another cake. He munched on it with a smile and closed his eyes.
It was the perfect, shining opportunity Thomas had been waiting for. He crawled across the bed and perched himself right in front of Yuma, one leg tucked under himself, the other dangling off the edge of the bed, resting on top of one of Yuma's knees. Thomas put on his gentlest expression when Yuma opened his eyes with a look of surprise. "You've got a little something," he said, reaching out and running a thumb across Yuma's upper lip, where he'd managed to lose a bit of the cake's cream filling. He sat back and licked the whipped cream off his thumb, taking care to hold Yuma's gaze as he did so.
"Um…" Yuma swallowed. The growing anxiety on his face was encouraging. "Thank…thank you?"
Thomas chuckled. He ran a hand up the top of Yuma's thigh, leaning forward until his nose brushed against the boy's. "My pleasure," he murmured before allowing his lips to connect with Yuma's. The fear that exploded from the boy's eyes sent a wave of exhilaration down Thomas's spine. He rose up on the leg he had tucked under himself, pinning Yuma against the wall.
Yuma put his hands against Thomas's chest and pushed, but wasn't strong enough to make him budge. He squirmed when Thomas grabbed one of his wrists and trapped it against the bed. "H-Hey!" he gasped when Thomas pulled back for a split second.
Knowing the potential consequences, Thomas slipped his tongue inside Yuma's mouth. This revenge scheme was much more fun than his friendship plan had been.
"Yuma, I hope you left some cakes for…" Mihael stopped dead when he caught sight of the tangled scene on his brother's bed.
Thomas leaned back and swung his dangling leg back onto the bed, freeing Yuma. "Oh there you are, little brother," he said, turning on an innocent smile. "We got bored waiting for you. I saved some of the cakes." The pure agony on his brother's face was priceless.
Yuma rolled off the bed and landed hard on his hands and knees. He crawled forward a few centimeters before getting to his feet and stumbling backward out the door, red-faced.
Angry tears fell onto Mihael's cheeks as he glared up at his brother.
Thomas cackled, enjoying the reaction he had elicited. "What's wrong, little brother? You were happy to be sharing your toy with me just a few minutes ago!"
"Yuma is not a toy," Mihael said, his voice low but deadly. He turned on his heel and stalked out of the room, slamming the door shut behind himself.
"Whatever you say!" Thomas called after him. He cackled and opened up a chocolate cake, chewing a bite of it whilst wearing a wide smirk.
Mihael caught up to Yuma and grabbed his wrist. He could feel the flinch that the boy made against his grasp. "It's me," he said. The shock on Yuma's face fed his burning fury. "Are you all right?"
"I…" Yuma pulled away from Mihael. "I don't want to talk about it." He put his hands in his pockets and hurried away.
Standing there in the middle of the hall, Mihael could do nothing but whisper, "I'm sorry," as he watched Yuma disappear around the corner. He balled his hands into fists and stomped in the opposite direction. The moment he was away from the bedrooms, he punched the wall, sending a sharp pain up his arm. He punched it again and again until his hands throbbed. Mihael dropped to the ground and pulled his knees up to his chest. He leaned back against the abused wall and closed his eyes, wondering if he would be able to bring himself to return to the room where Thomas was no doubt celebrating whatever victory he thought he'd won tonight.
:::
Mihael hadn't spoken to him in a week. Thomas gazed across the dining hall to where his brother sat beside Yuma. It wasn't hard to see that their smiles and conversation were forced, even from across the room. Thomas took a bite of his fish and sighed. He could have understood a day or two of this silent treatment, but this was ridiculous; it wasn't as though he'd hurt Yuma. It had only been meant as a joke, albeit a mean-spirited one. His eyes caught Mihael's, and he was rewarded with a quick glare.
"I'm going to try the swing again today!" Yuma declared.
After shooting a glare across the room to where Thomas sat staring, Mihael turned to Yuma with a polite frown. "I thought we had agreed that you weren't going to try again."
"This time my kattobingu is sure to make me successful!"
"What makes this time's kattobingu surer than the last's?" Mihael noticed a grain of rice stuck to Yuma's upper lip. "You've got a little something," he said as he reached out to wipe it away.
Yuma jerked back and wiped his face with his arm. "Did I get it?"
Mihael dropped his hand back into his lap and looked down. "Yes." Since the incident, Yuma had not allowed Mihael—or anyone for that matter—within arm's reach of his face. Just knowing what he'd walked in on, Mihael couldn't bring himself to blame him. Yuma had also begun insisting that they hang out in more populated parts of the orphanage. Mihael missed the single day they had spent alone, enjoying each other's company without fear or ulterior motive. "Let's play a card game to decide whether you try your stunt again or not," Mihael suggested.
A hint of worry flashed across Yuma's face. "Um…"
"I can go get the cards myself. Just promise you won't try the swing before playing." Mihael pushed his chair back and stood with his plate in hand. "Meet me by the sandbox, okay?" He sat his plate on the dish cart and left the dining hall.
Thomas raised an eyebrow as he watched his brother leave Yuma behind. He looked over at Yuma, wondering what had caused the rare split. It didn't seem as though they'd fought, and Yuma continued eating without ceremony. Thomas turned back to his own breakfast, making idle small talk with his fans between bites.
"Let's build King Thomas a new sand kingdom today!" yelled one of the younger boys. "Can we?" he asked, his eyes shining.
With a smile, Thomas replied, "Of course! I would be honored." A clatter behind him caught Thomas's attention. He turned just in time to see Yuma bolting out of the dining hall.
:::
Fast-paced footsteps and a slight pant alerted Mihael to Yuma's presence. He looked over his shoulder, surprised but not displeased. "What made you decide to join me?"
Yuma grinned. "I just thought maybe you could use some company." To Mihael's disappointment, he maintained an arm's distance. Together they turned into the playroom, Yuma hanging back at the doorway. As Mihael was reaching up to pull a pack of cards down from the shelf, Yuma spoke. "Hey, Mihael?"
"Yes?" he replied without looking back.
"Um." There was long pause in which Mihael thought that Yuma might not say anything after all. "Why…why do you think he did it?"
Mihael's throat went dry and his stomach flipped over several times. With some effort, he turned to face Yuma, whose gaze was directed at the floor.
Yuma crossed his arms over his chest and continued. "I mean, we were friends and he seemed to be okay with that. Then he just…"
More than anything, Mihael wanted to go and hug Yuma, no matter how he might have reacted to it. His own eyes wandered around the room, trying to find something to focus on that was not breathing. They locked onto the numbered rug. If he was honest, Mihael still wasn't sure why Thomas had done what he had. A part of Mihael felt that he had never meant the harm he'd caused, but the rest of him knew that there had been malevolence in his actions. "He was jealous of the attention I gave you. He wanted to cause problems between us."
"But why…?" The intended question hung between them.
It was clear that Thomas had noticed that Mihael was attracted to Yuma; otherwise he would have attempted to drive them apart some other way. "Because he knew," Mihael murmured.
"Knew what?"
Ignoring the question, Mihael crossed the room and made to leave. He met Yuma's eyes when the boy blocked his way.
"What did he know?" Yuma asked again, his tone more insistent than before.
Mihael's gaze rose to Yuma's forehead and he gave a polite smile. "Let's hurry outside. If we take too long, all of the swings will be taken before you can try again." He tried to duck under Yuma's arm, but Yuma grabbed the front of his shirt and held him. Heat rose to Mihael's face; this was the closest they had been to each other since before Thomas had butted in and ruined things. Yuma's breath on Mihael's face clouded his judgment. "That I like you," Mihael blurted. "He noticed and he took advantage of it and he hurt you." Mihael threw his arms around Yuma's neck. "I'm so sorry."
Yuma's body stiffened under Mihael's touch, but he didn't move. When Mihael pulled away, there was uncertainty in his eyes. With a blink, it was replaced with distress. "I…I just remembered that I have a project to work on for school. I can't play cards today. Sorry." He ran, leaving Mihael to stare at the place he'd been with a broken expression.
:::
Thomas lay in bed, listening to the constant rustling of the sheets below him. He imagined that his brother was tossing and turning, unable to sleep. It had been clear that something was wrong at lunchtime: Yuma and Mihael had sat in different parts of the dining hall and hadn't so much as shot glances at each other. At dinner, Thomas had watched his brother enter and take a seat back in his favorite spot, but Yuma had never come. Mihael had left early, his eyes locked onto his feet, hands balled into fists.
Mihael shifted to face the wall. Yuma was gone. After his botched confession, Mihael had stayed in the playroom not doing much of anything until lunchtime. He hadn't been able to bring himself to face Yuma, so he'd chosen a seat in a part of the dining hall he wouldn't have otherwise. To his despair, Yuma had done the same. Late in the afternoon, Mihael had made up his mind to apologize, inasmuch as he could, for how he felt. He had searched everywhere he could think to look for Yuma, at last going to the room where the boy slept. The bed which belonged to Yuma had been stripped bare. A sense of dread had overcome Mihael the moment he saw it. His fears had been realized when Yuma hadn't shown up for dinner. Unable to stand the happy chatter of the boys around him, Mihael had abandoned his plate and gone to bed early.
He turned over onto his back and stared up at Thomas's bunk above him. As far as Mihael knew, the confession had been such a shock that Yuma had begged his older sister to come and get him regardless of financial difficulty. He ignored the part of him that insisted that it wasn't likely that Yuma would react that way, allowing smoldering anger to displace some of his sorrow.
At long last the rustling stopped. Thomas wondered what had happened to cause such a swift change in Mihael and Yuma's relationship. He had a sinking feeling that he shouldered some if not all of the blame. This had been his ultimate aim. Why then did he feel…guilty? He had wanted Mihael all to himself again. But what if…what if Mihael didn't want him back? What if his resentment continued, as well it should? Thomas rolled over onto his stomach, gripped by sudden fear. He had never considered that his actions could cost him a brother.
:::
Mihael sat in the center of the playroom, holding the white action figure in his hands, staring through it. He had awoken feeling empty, and so far nothing today had filled the void.
Thomas entered, not bothering to mask his presence. He reached down and took the toy from his brother's hands. The passionate response he would have received just two weeks ago did not come. He sat down beside Mihael, took a firm grip of the action figure's arm, and broke it off.
At the snap, Mihael turned his head. His blank eyes rattled Thomas to the core. Mihael took the toy back, and after a moment, ripped its head off of its shoulders. He passed it back to Thomas. They took turns breaking the toy apart, until it lay in a pile of appendages before them.
Thomas got to his feet and went over to the toy bin, from which he chose a puppet. He took it back to the rug and presented it to his brother, who took the toy without a word. For a while he watched Mihael for any sign of emotion; with every passing moment the blame weighed heavier down on his shoulders. He dropped to his knees and put his arms around his brother's neck. "I'm sorry," he whispered. After what felt like an eternity to Thomas, Mihael leaned against him.
Thomas was the only constant in Mihael's life. No matter what he did, Mihael couldn't hate him. Perhaps Thomas wasn't a shining example of an older brother, but he was the only one that Mihael could count on. Mihael hugged the puppet to his chest. He felt Thomas's arms tighten around him, and a small smile touched his lips.
So this is my first non-DM fic in six years. I hope this is an acceptable contribution to the ZeXal fandom. I'm glad that you took the time to read this monstrosity. Reviewing would take considerably less, if you have it in your heart to do so~ ^_^