He'd always known his brother wasn't much of a man, or boy, of words.
It was a problem that was more often than not addressed publicly to the dismay of either boy. It'd proved to be an inconvenience on more than one occasion, or so Shizuo strongly felt, but there wasn't much to do with the situation. That was just how Kasuka functioned.
Similarly, Shizuo functioned by being an angry fellow that took his aggressions out on whomever he deemed fit. If that person just so happened to be his dear little brother, neither would have taken offense. And in any case a situation where Shizuo felt threatened, angered, annoyed, irritated enough to consider chucking another fridge at the expense of his own safety was quite..rare, on good days.
Average days, where any poor fool dared to call Shizuo, or Kasuka's sanity into question were far more frequent and all too real. Those days, at the very least, outnumbered the simple days. And sometimes, fighting was tiresome.
Aggression had played out to it's fullest extent.
Those were the days that Shizuo called his own sanity into question. Sure, he'd already done so often enough; he'd scrutinized himself for the monster he was and treated himself with the vigorous inhumanity and care of those around him—those who truly considered this boy a monster. His brother merely acted as a veil—a cover up—or more often than not a first-aid kit that calmly strode to his side in silent contentment. And he was well aware that he was the reason his brother was growing up to become such a recluse. He'd lost interest in tracking the frequency in which he'd physically dragged his brother to a park or playground and forced him to at least attempt a conversation.
So they balanced one another out; Kasuka the recluse and Shizuo the ever-growing monstrosity of Ikebukuro, Japan.
Yet, Kasuka never seemed to mind the monster.
When Shizuo traced the faintest hint of fear in his brother's eyes, he'd merely stand tall and deny that thought for the monstrosity it was; greater than himself. When Shizuo's body moved to it's own accord, Kasuka was ready to pick up the pieces of shattered bone, quite literally.
That was all too often the routine of an average day, concluded by mechanical actions on either side.
However, minimal as it may seem, simple days existed, too.
Days like these—for example—when life was almost simple.
"Kasuka." Shizuo huffed as he shut the refrigerator door, "Did you drink my milk?"
Kasuka, sitting so naturally at the kitchen table, allowed his bare feet to dangle off the edge of the chair. The sun had barely risen but moments ago; At exactly six thirty in the morning. At seven, Kasuka had waken Shizuo with his rustling and shuffling through kitchen cabinets. Now, he sat calmly with a spoon of cereal tucked neatly in his mouth. He gestured toward the far end of the kitchen table.
Shizuo spotted the offending glass, poured and placed precariously as if it were meant for him.
He took his seat across the table and sipped his glass. His brother seemed to enjoy eating at a snail's pace, but that was alright with him. He was used to slowing down to meet his brother's preferences. If only he were able to do so when the situation deemed most appropriate.
The nagging in the back of his mind had taken hold but he willed his self control into place. There was no one here that ruled off as a potential offender; no one worthy of his vices, save for his brother who stood far above the rest to the point where he was simply untouchable. So, in any case, Kasuka was never an option, never an object of conscious destruction. He was fine with that.
His brother noticed—as expected of Kasuka who was far more attentive than it seemed.
He nodded toward Shizuo questioningly. Shizuo huffed at no one in particular and forced his head away in stubborn response. He'd no reason to share such grievances with Kasuka..Such complications could await the average days; a day he truly hoped this had not turned out to be.
"Kasuka." he decided to change the approaching subject, "Your cereal will get soggy if you add so much milk." he bravely gestured toward the carton that likely neared empty.
Kasuka noted his brother's opinion and must have promptly decided that he didn't care. However, as if heeding the warning, he pushed the carton away from himself and dove his spoon back into the contents of the nameless brand their mother had purchased from an equally nameless grocery store.
"..Kasuka, you're not afraid of me, right?"
His spoon dipped beneath the milk, slightly overwhelming the cereal. Before Shizuo could call into question whether or not the smaller had acknowledged the statement, Kasuka slowed his movement.
He hesitated when the spoon reached his near parted lips, "Not really."
And a weight had lifted, as it always had when Shizuo was unsure of himself. His brother had given him the declaration of peace time and time again, but it seemed to still the unsteady beating of his heart.
That was the moment he had confirmed the fact that—no—simple days were not behind him.
He was not a monster, he was not a blemish on mankind's beautifully evolved surface.
"...Am I boring?"
His head snapped up at the question, at the words he'd never expected.
"Who told you that?" he demanded. If he'd anything in his possession, he would have snapped it in half by now. It was a habit.
Despite what could have been a saddened edge to his words, his face remained expressionless. Such was the common visage that belonged to his brother, and he couldn't decide if it were a mask or a reflection of his personality.
Even so, as non-existent as it may seem to the naked eye, it was still there and it was far beyond boring.
He wasn't sure he would bother to reply, so he opened his mouth again, but Kasuka beat him to it. "I don't know, I heard it on the playground. I was on the swings again.."
Realization sunk in and his feet sank against tile. His head rested on his arm, "You mean, you were alone?"
He nodded, occupied with the cereal he seemed to suddenly enjoy.
His sigh resounded quietly, and he knew their parents wouldn't wake soon. That left him just enough time to consider his words carefully..but what would have been the appropriate response to the concerns of someone who looked so blankly?
His heartbeat dulled as the idea of a simple Saturday eased his running thoughts.
"Kasuka," his voice raised, "You are definitely not boring. You're just..a blank slate. And that doesn't mean you lack a personality, at all! You're exactly how you've built yourself and everything you want to be. If you want to be quiet, then be quiet. And next time somebody calls you boring, I'll beat them within an inch of their life, got it?"
That last statement had slipped on impulse, and they both knew it. He debated retracting those words for a moment and simplifying his ideas, but it was too late. His brother dropped his spoon.
Across the table, a small, evident smile had graced Kasuka—a rare sight. He double checked himself and frantically searched for something he could have set that would have provoked such an odd, sudden display of emotion but came up empty.
"Thank you. I don't feel boring, knowing you're my brother."
He was going to take that as a compliment.
"...By the way—"
His eyes traveled in the direction of Kasuka, who rose slowly as he took his empty bowl and glass to the sink. The water switched on and off in a quick moment to prevent staining and when he was done, he moved to the fridge.
He was truly curious; he had never seen so much fluid motion, or as bold a statement as trying to continue a conversation, from his brother. His smile remained sweet.
He opened the fridge, and frowned. "Shizuo, we're out of pudding."
And Shizuo tried to perfect a copy of his brother's otherwise quiet nature, as they walked down the street, hand in hand on their way to the nearest convenient store.
XXX
His faint smile brightened genuinely at the sight of his brother, trying so desperately to control himself. Contrary to common belief, those actions weren't unnoticed. In fact, he found it rather endearing that his brother tried so hard, for the sake of others.
And even as he looked as though he'd hurt himself that morning, as if figuring for the first time, the foreign ways of comforting another human being, he was sure that monsters weren't capable of such selfless acts.
A/N: I don't know what to say.. I love the Heiwajima brothers.