Warnings: Parents are literally abandoning their kids here, non-human characters, found family time, politics, internalized misogyny, racism, colorism, speciesism
Chapter Three - Closings and Openings.
Draven, as was proper, served tea and cookies to his older brother. But it was slow, piping hot, and unwanted. Well, that was fine, but it was his house on his ruined sleep schedule. "I haven't seen you in years, old man," he said in his easy voice, very fond and displaying nothing but the utmost pleasure.
Thankfully, the other was just as easy to rile up as he had been in childhood, Matthew's wan face burning with heat and distaste, roving over the slight, pale tinge to his skin, the bags under his eyes. "Draven, now isn't-"
"You've always been pleased to decide when is and isn't the time to be right, haven't you?" Draven interrupted, crossing his arms. His brother hated that and sometimes, quite a few times,
"Is this about Dad?" Matthew let out a heavy sigh, temples pulsing, age and anger and annoyance in his gut. "Now? It's been years."
Draven let out a sharp laugh. "You let them drive me out of the house for the same reason you're now in mine, Matthew old man. I haven't talked to them in over a decade. Think hard."
Matthew scowled a little, looking down at the table. Draven had always been the rebellious brother, the little genius brother who had thought he could get away with everything. And then he ran away because he didn't get his way, his approval, his love, instead of manning up and fighting back. Sometimes, when he looked at Osamu, he'd thought he'd seen his little brother in that face, fond of doing enough good to get away with all of his shit.
"My husband holds a grudge, like we dragons," intoned the voice of a woman, who rocked the baby in her arms. That familiar pair of eyes, which even years later never failed to send him into uncomfortable squirming and shivering in his chair, remained on him for a long few moments. "You knew this, why did you pretend otherwise?"
"I wasn't talking to you," he mumbled, feeling, much as the woman always tended to give him, like a scolded child.
"You ought to be." The woman settled opposite to him, regarding not him either, but his wife. His wife met the woman's gaze with a firmness he always found uncanny. She was normally perfectly happy to just… let things be. It was the way of things for her and hers, she said, after she left. Much less suspicious, really. But there were moments where she stood up to him and looked firmly ahead. "I'm the one who has to decide whether or not to kick you and your hatchlings out, seeing as Dray will have to do all of the heavy lifting for us to keep them."
"They're children," he snapped. She was supposed to be from people who cared for children like hordes.
"Aye," she agreed. "They are, and you're not. And you have yet to give me a reason to keep them here." She looked at his wife. "And you, Natsumi. I didn't think I'd see you with a glamour."
"I didn't think I'd see you again at all," she said, amusement filling her voice, and Matthew's face went ashen.
"You two know each other?"
"She's the famous runaway, of course I do," Natsumi said in as gentle a voice as always. "Running from Directory isn't exactly easy."
Yuma laughed. "Not all of us can have cushy government jobs, can we now?"
Matthew chewed on his lip, turning those words over in his mind.
None of them had been a surprise exactly. He had met her in university, studying Japanese. She had told him she was going into politics but suddenly, upon graduation that had all faded away as she'd gone to work in a cafe, a happy barista who made enough money and charmed the people around her.
And when they'd started dating and he'd gotten his job as an interpreter, she'd been all the happier to quit that too. And he'd… never questioned any of it. His parents had seen it as right and proper so after the disaster that had been his youngest brother eloping out of the family, he'd been more than willing to go along with it.
Even after learning she had brown furry ears and a stub of a tail.
I'm a runt, she'd told him, looking solemn and secretive and also with eyes sparkling with mischief. And that was the first time that Matthew, of his own free will, had lied to his parents about anything being wrong. Because really, to him, nothing was. She hid those things most of the time anyway, and their children had shown none of it so far. So they were normal. Everything was normal. Everything was fine.
But then that letter had come in the mail. Then it had told them they had exceeded the limit of 'pre-allowed children', whatever that meant like they were in China or some such nonsense. Their babies were weeks old there was no way they could do something so terrible like kill them or something.
But Osamu and Ken had, without realizing it, found their salvation. Osamu didn't understand, and Ken was too young so of course, they couldn't… but still he wanted to… to protect them.
"Why are you exempt from this?" He made himself look at her, and her naturally violet eyes and hair, the small smile on her face, the darkness of her skin that sent his mother into hysterics every time someone cautiously mentioned it. "What makes you special?"
The woman glanced at her child, who was making little upset noises into her chest. She rocked him "Nothing, really. Her job was to observe and connect with you all. She and you are just doing what is normal for us. But this place doesn't like that. I was brought here for no reason at all." the woman sipped her drink. "That said, we are safe because of our connections and because where we come from-"
"Abandoning children is a punishment worthy of imprisonment," Natsumi interrupted plainly. "Where we come from anyway. Children are scarce, boys are quite scarce so we… It's different if we are sending them to another family. They can make exceptions, speak out against atrocities. If we were in our home, this wouldn't even be an issue. But here, it reflects on society to have a lot of not-human children around. It looks like a problem because they have to admit we've been around as long as we have. So giving our kids to them will reflect poorly on us and favorably on them, because they started with two. So they'll create better measures." She looked at her tea mug.
"If we don't do this, they'll send us all up," Natsumi said and Matthew stiffened.
Sent up, sent away, kicked out. He still wasn't sure where or if it even mattered, but it was something Natsumi feared more than anything. She had nightmares about it after Osamu was born.
"They'll die, Yuma," his wife continued, looking them in the eyes. "You know this. They're children. They have less of a chance."
"Then why not take them home?" Yuma was unmoved. "Your family was close enough that they'd keep your husband safe."
"He is sitting right here," Matthew interrupted and Natsumi squeezed his hand.
Draven sighed and rose to his feet. Yuma passed him a cookie as he went.
"Where are you going/" Matthew demanded, making to stand up as well.
Draven, rather childishly in his opinion, ignored him and went to another room.
"The apartment is small," Yuma said in a desert voice. "He won't get far. He's likely just going to put things in order for the moment, until we've conversed ourselves to death and made a new system. She gestured over her baby's head, who yawned and burbled. "We don't have much space here, you know."
Matthew twitched.
Ken didn't like the look on his brother's face.
He was quiet again, rocking a baby but staring off with a look of something like being mad. But mad didn't feel strong enough. It didn't feel good enough to describe this sort of frown, all mulish and hurt.
Mirei didn't seem to notice, dozing in his arms. Mitsuki was also sleeping, happily bundled up in a pile of Ken and Osamu's blankets. But Ken did. He didn't like when Osamu's forehead creased like the books he loved to read or when his eyes took on that pretty rock light.
"You don't hate mommy and daddy," he said, to break the silence.
"I do now," Osamu said with acid, and Ken meant to shut up, trying not to shake. But he was so tired and everything seemed so angry.
"Why?" he asked because he wanted to know things, he wanted to know things so maybe the hurting feeling would just make sense. "Why not love them?"
"They're leaving us here, Ken," his brother said, firmly. "They don't want us anymore, or they can't do this anymore. But they're leaving us here."
"Did… Did I do something wrong?" Babies were hard and everyone was tired and sometimes he cried too much but- Panic bubbled in his throat. What did he do? What was wrong? Why were they leaving? They couldn't leave. They were supposed to walk him to school and show the neighbors his pictures and-
Osamu's voice came as if underwater. "No," and with that firmness again. "No. You did nothing wrong. You were good, Ken."
"Then why?" he asked, hearing his voice rise and Mirei snuffle.
"I don't know."
The firmness gave way to defeat and sadness and Ken felt his tears lose control and fall down his face. Because if it was no one's fault and Osamu didn't know then why was it happening?
There was a very low whine and Ken opened his eyes (which he hadn't known he'd closed) and he turned to his left to see Mitsuki. It was her making the noise, face screwed up, not at key wailing (he'd heard that before) but high enough that Ken panicked and joined her in the awful bawling session.
(He didn't hear Osamu doing the same, much more quietly, a low panic in his voice as he tried to soothe the half-awake Mirei out of crying, nor did he see it because he was too busy burying his head in his knees and whimpering.)
It felt like the whole thing went on for hours before a tiny hand plopped on his head. And then it did it again. And again, mussying up his hair (more like his bangs) each time until its straight locks stuck up in waves and he looked up into purple eyes that were just like his. Except somehow bigger, and softer, and in a much darker face.
"Loud," said the owner of the eyes, They blinked at him and made to plop their hand again, but now that Ken's head was up, they only seemed to reach his nose and ended up bonking him on it, which hurt.
Ken reared back. "What was that for?" he whined, still feeling his nerves so thin they could be shirt threads.
Now that he was sitting upright, he could see the source of his pain was a little girl, who okay yes he was little, but this girl was even littler!
She blinked. "Sad," she said. "Loud. I pat."
"That wasn't a pat!"
"Was," she agreed. Then she turned around, behind her. "Nii-nii."
Hiding behind the doorway was another tiny child, staring at them like they were going to jump him. "No. Sleep."
The girl gave her brother the toddler equivalent of 'are you serious right now.' "Pet," she said, then pointed at the already tuckered out Mitsuki. "Baby."
"No pet babies."
The girl rolled her eyes, or something like it, then shuffled to look over at the baby.
By now, Osamu looked calm, and he must have cried (and now Ken felt bad he could have helped), but he didn't sound it. "Who're you?"
"Those would be my children, out past their bedtime?"
The boy made a noise of annoyance and the girl merely a quiet squeak as the kind nurse from before scooped them up. "This is Dougal," he presented the tiny boy, who glared more. "And Sayo." The girl bobbed her head. "And I am apparently your Uncle Draven." The kind nurse smiled at them, though even Ken could tell it wasn't quite as strong as in the hospital. "It's nice to properly meet you lads, and your tiny lasses too."
Ken couldn't help but smile a lot more. "You're our uncle!" He hadn't known they had any family other than the grandma and grandpa and aunts and uncles who just sent money once a year that he never saw ever. He'd never met them, and daddy hadn't talked about them much. "Are you related to mommy?"
The man's eyes dimmed a little, and he squeezed into the open remaining space on the couch. "I am your father's younger brother," he replied. "I… distanced myself from the family quite a few years ago now, hence why my surprise, and delight, at seeing you lot."
"Why'd you leave?" Osamu's voice was sharp, and a little wobbly too.
The man hummed. "I loved my wife, and hated their beliefs."
"Oh." Osamu nodded smartly. "That's all right then."
Ken did not understand at all.
Uncle laughed softly, by Ken's ears and Ken found he liked it. He poked at Sayo's questing fingers. "Glad to meet your standards lad."
"Do you hate daddy?" Ken asked, because no one else was going to. "Is that why you're in here?"
Draven glanced at him and shook his head. "I'm very angry with your father," he said, and added before Ken could say that was nearly the same thing. "I didn't think he'd come back into my life with demands and though I don't mind fulfilling them, forgiving him is… quite difficult. He stood by while our father humiliated and attacked me. While our mother mocked and walked me around like a doll. I don't think he understands what he's really asking of me."
"Are you going to throw us out?" Osamu asked and Ken tensed. No, no, where else could they go? What else could they do if they weren't getting to… to go with mommy and daddy?
Draven regarded them both and smiled. "Of course not."
And Ken found himself believing him, this man he'd only met twice. This man was very nice. He yawned, and all of a sudden, the time caught up with him.
"All right," the man said. "That's the cue. Children are to bed, we have futons for you both and the extra crib for your sisters. It will be a bit crammed for a while if you don't mind."
"I don't," Osamu said.
Ken hesitated. "I wanna tell them to stay," he said.
Draven paused and then, much like his daughter, pet Ken's hair, but gentler. "I don't think they'll hear you lad," he said sincerely. "But if you wish to try, I won't stop you, if you'll help me put your sisters down first."
Ken nodded and got to his feet. Then, he stopped and looked down at his socks. "Do… do they love us?"
Uncle looked at him. "I believe they do," he answered. "And that, ultimately, is the best and worst thing about them."
He did not explain and Ken, for once, was happy that he didn't. Instead, he watched the toddlers swing their arms. He watched his brother adjust Mirei in his arms, and his eyes go hard again with something strong. Like a hero being strong. He watched Mitsuki's eyes flutter. Her nose ran, and he wiped it with a bit of a blanket.
He didn't want to cry anymore today. He passed by his parents and did not look at them. He would talk later. If he tried now, he'd just yell, and they never listened when he yelled.
When they were done, he'd make them listen then.
He'd make this right.
(Of course, he didn't, and that still eats away at him a long time later.)