Hello everyone. I am having a moment where I realized I started this fanfiction in 2016, and it is now 2020. I was eighteen when I started this (close to Vivi's age) and now I am TWENTY-TWO.
Am I going to let that stop me? NAH BITCH.
Life just got in the way, as it often does! But my stories are always in the back of my mind, as they have been all these years, and I always think about what I'm hoping to do with them and keeping copious notes on them. I just hope my writing style hasn't changed significantly enough that it's not tasteful anymore. Being an English major, I learned, really starts zapping all of the lawless creative juices that reside inside you when you write fanfiction. Of course pursue a degree if that's your thing, I just very often felt that the way I write here, and have been writing, wasn't good enough for standardized education. But now that I'm close to graduating, I had an epiphany: really, who the fuck cares but me? This is just something I like, something I decided to do for fun.
So fanfiction, and Brother's Conflict, is fun for me. And that's what counts.
All ye who enter here - let's just have fun. A lot of harem/reverse harem animes are problematic in their own ways, but not all of them. And my goal with this fanfiction, ultimately, was to subvert that while keeping with the lively and lovable spirit of it. My writing has always meant so much to me, and just telling a fun story to make people happy is what I wanted to achieve when I began posting stuff online.
I've had some champagne, so I'm rambly. I know people come here for a Brother's Conflict story, not mine, and that is what I hope to deliver!
Disclaimer: I do not own Brother's Conflict.
Chapter Eleven
Lava
The following morning I help Ukyo-san in the kitchen again, since we seem to be the only two early risers today. I don't mind at all, of course; I sense myself making this into a routine, and he is always straightforward in expressing his gratitude for the help. He points out where the rice cookers are and offers to lift them out of the cupboard for me, since they are a bit on the heavier side, but I'm already doing so before he's finished his sentence. I can't really feel the weight to them that he warned me about, but I tell him I'm thankful for the offer. As I'm portioning out the rice and water, I feel his eyes on me, and I can't decide if his gaze is merely observing or calculating. So I turn my head slightly over my shoulder to look at him when I ask, "Is everything alright?"
"Yes, of course," he responds, and it sounds as though I've jarred him out of deep thought. "I was just wondering if we should get you an apron for yourself."
I finished prepping the rice and set the timer, then fully turn to him with a very ladylike snort. "That's very thoughtful of you, and it would be nice. But I really don't mind using this one." I finger the hem of the cotton cloth as I speak, and he's nodding in response. "I'm not difficult to please in the slightest, so don't worry about it."
He surprises me by letting out a frustrated grunt. His hair is perfectly immaculate even so early in the morning, gelled just enough to keep it out of his face, and his linen button-down is neatly pressed without a wrinkle in sight. I feel a brief flash of envy; he manages to look so put-together every time I see him, whereas I either end up looking like a wayward high school student or a hot mess. "I just worry, is all," he tells me. "I want you to be as comfortable as possible. This situation is still very new and will undoubtedly take some getting used to. Whatever would make you feel more at home, I'm happy to do."
I gesture to the counters around us with a grin. "This is exactly what makes me feel at home. I'm happy to help in any way I can, and I'm more than experienced with chores from my old house. Nothing makes one feel welcome more than being treated like part of the team."
The smile his gives me in return is stunning, and I can see Miwa-san even in the lines bordering his mouth. Those were essentially the only wrinkles she had on her, and they were ones that indicated she was grinning a lot, so there was no way they could be considered negatively. "I have to agree with you there. Really, don't mind me; I'm just used to being a worrywart." He turns back to face the meal plan for the morning, scribbled on a white board in neat handwriting that's a bit smudged on the ends of the bullet points; whoever wrote it must be left-handed. "I've been doing this most of my life, too. It gives me structure. But I have to admit that a helping hand is an immense relief." He chuckles softly to himself. "Yesterday we were done in half the time it usually takes me."
I thump my chest with a fist, then place my hands on my hips like a bolstering hero. "You can count on me for anything. No responsibility is too much." My bangs had dusted across my eyes, and I have to swipe them behind my ear. "It's nice to be relied upon." I'm fully aware that it sounds like I'm boasting about my own capabilities, but I know from experience that I can handle more than my own fair share of work. Not solely relying upon my strength, but my mental fortitude is not too shabby either. It's when I'm in social situations that it feels like the ground is crumbling beneath me and I have to collect my bearings.
"Again, I find myself agreeing with you." I can hear the smile in his voice, mixed with a slight edge of concern. He's tapping his slender fingers on the quartz countertop in an even rhythm.
"Everything alright?" I ask, checking the rice. It should be done soon.
"I have a trial to prepare for," he says, eyeing his watch. It's golden in colour, and I look at it appraisingly as I try to guess the brand, then realize I don't know of any. "I'm wondering how much time I can spare myself for it."
"Blatherskite," I say, and he looks back at me, startled. "I can finish up breakfast, no problem. Will you have time to eat something here before you leave or will you grab something on your way?"
He's blinking at me in astonishment, and it occurs to me I was probably treating him too familiarly at this point and sticking my nose in where it didn't belong. However, this is why I'm here; to be a part of this family, and that means sharing their workload and carrying my own weight. I have lots of time before I need to head to school, and that time can be filled with making breakfast.
"Are you sure?" He asks quietly, his thick brows drawn over his eyes.
"Absolutely." The rice cookers beep in synchronization and I turn both of them off, leaving the rice to settle and be fluffed before serving. "Just give me a benchmark of when I should have everything ready by. And the process for leftovers, if we have any."
Almost dazedly, he reinstructs me on the locations of ingredients, as well as where I can find containers for refrigerated food storage. I take things out as we go so I can multitask; while one thing is cooking, I can prep another. He tells me everything should be ready by at least 6:30, which gave me around 45 minutes. As he's about to leave he scribbles down portion sizing on the meal plan, and I smile at his consideration as I'm frying up eggs. He accounted for the fact that even though I'm learned in cooking, I would not be used to cooking for so many people. When he turns around to say farewell I'm already about halfway done, setting more than a dozen fried eggs aside.
"Thank you," he murmurs, surprise and the most sincere gratitude coating his voice. He hesitates, then saunters over to give my head a pat. I smile, but have to resist the urge to snicker; it must be a habit they have all picked up at this rate. I'm pretty certain almost every single one of them have delivered at least one pat.
"Any time," I tell him. "Really." He briskly walks for the door, a suit jacket hung over his arm despite the heat, and I decide to mess with him a little. I clear my throat loudly enough for him to hear and poke my head out of the kitchen, staring at him expectantly.
He flounders for a moment, the smallest tinge of red colouring his cheeks. He can't meet my eyes as he says, "I'm heading out."
"Take care," I respond with a toothy smile. Just as the elevator opens for him to go downstairs, Iori-san and Azusa-san step out and wish him farewell. Juli scuttles down the stairs to join me in the kitchen, with impeccable timing on his part. Coincidence that he arrives just as more of my brothers enter the same room as me? I examine his overly innocent expression and decide that it's not.
"Good morning," they say in unison, and I toss it back. Iori-san says something about heading to school early as he wants to prepare for day duty, and Azusa-san wanders over to the kitchen, causing Juli to tense up on the island.
"You're fast," he observes in humbled surprise, examining the progress I've made. "And it smells delicious."
I remember what he said to me the previous night and have to clear my throat before answering. "I hope it tastes delicious, too. Even if you follow recipes exactly, I think they always turn out differently depending on who's making them."
He nods in agreement, an odd smile on his face, and he carries over the soy sauce amongst other staples to the table. He pauses in thought for a moment, most likely counting how many of them will actually be in attendance for the meal, when his twin enters the loft, his yawn so loud it resounds to the kitchen. "Morning, Azusa-chan," he groans, his voice thick with sleep.
"Morning. Our sister's making breakfast today." I could just be imagining things, as in hearing what I want to hear, but I swear there was a bit of pride in his voice as he says it. Misplaced, perhaps, because housework is perfectly normal and by no means something I expect to be validated. Nonetheless, Juli is making the evil eye at my expression, and I have to pause in making breakfast to make sure I don't get too excited.
Thumps as loud as claps of thunder beat down the stairs, so quickly I think Tsubaki-san had fallen down them. Then he screeches to a halt at the entryway to the kitchen and makes a sound of delight. "Dreams do come true," he whispers fondly, and I can practically sense an attack before Azusa-san plops him down in the chair beside him, a steaming cup of coffee awaiting. He was efficient at taking care of others as well, looking perfectly composed all the while. Other attendees gather at the table, yawning or just moaning tiredly, and I wrap up my cooking to plate it all buffet-style, where they could serve themselves. I examine my handiwork and decide it looks pretty decent for my first time preparing a meal this large, fluff up the rice, then start setting the dishes in the center of the table. Azusa-san had already thought to set the table with our individual dishes, and we say our prayer before digging in.
"It's delicious, onee-chan!" Wataru informs me, pulling my hand under the table to deliver a blinding smile. There are murmurs of agreement, and I send out a universal thank you. I'm aiming to look far more composed than I feel; inside, my heart is beating like Tsubaki-san's feet down the stairs, close to tumbling dangerously. I'm so incredibly relieved I did okay for my first meal preparation at the new house – granted, Ukyo-san was definitely helping me out in a big way in spirit with his meticulous instructions and attention to detail, so I certainly hadn't done it all myself. I say so out loud, and I see Tsubaki-san nodding in solemn agreement out of the corner of my eye.
"This is my first time eating food made solely by you," he says, his gaze so intense that it startles me. "I'll cherish it forever. I do look forward to one completely done by yourself, though."
"As do I," his twin chimes in, eyes glittering. All this attention zeroed in on me is disconcerting, but not entirely unpleasant. I notice Masaomi-san, Kaname-san and Louis-san missing from the table, and figure they must be sleeping in or already at work. Subaru-san is present, though as quiet as he usually is around me, and Yusuke-kun is essentially eating in his sleep by the looks of him. They all finish up in record time, nonetheless, and I organize the leftovers while Yusuke-kun handles the dishes.
The twins, Subaru-san and Wataru make their exit then, and I send them off before I get changed into my uniform. I return to the common area to convene with Yusuke-kun and I see he's fully dressed and glancing around surreptitiously. I laugh quietly as I approach him: "Everything okay?"
"Just thinking," he mutters. Our eyes meet, and he's unable to hold my gaze for very long before he looks away with a flush in his cheeks. "Are we… leaving together today?"
"Sure," I say, momentarily taken aback. After the big escapade last night I'd nearly forgotten how he'd mentioned he wouldn't mind walking together – seeing bystanders' reactions to Iori-san and I riding tandem had lead him to the explanation that people won't assume we're siblings right off the bat. "No reason not to."
"Great." His shoulders sag, which made me notice that he'd been very tense when asking me. My chest warms when I realize that he was nervous, and I want to tell him that there's no reason for him to be, but I want to avoid making him any more anxious around me. "We should take off before Iori does." His mouth screws up in displeasure. "I don't want us running into each other on the way."
I consider telling him that Iori-san had already left, but I'm a bit amused by his reaction, so I just let it be. This time as we stride through the neighbourhood at a leisurely pace, since we'd left pretty early this morning, the distance between us is respectfully minimal. He's not going out of his way to separate himself from me, and that brings another arbitrary grin to my face. It's a massive improvement from us leaving separately and making me feel like I was tailing him, since he was always in my line of sight on our previous excursions. We still have a long way to go before we're comfortable with each other, I think, but that's the way it is with all relationships. I'm more comfortable in the house today than I was yesterday, and it'll only get better with time.
"So," I begin, and I see that we're nearing the station already. There's still some time before the train comes, so we continue to take it slow; I think it's paining him a bit, since he does have longer legs than mine and can naturally walk faster, but he matches my stride and stays by me. How sweet. "Fact of the day – let's go."
"We're actually doing this?" His sounds beside himself, but a quick glance at his expression reveals to me that he finds it amusing. He's not exactly smiling, but his features softened from their previously tense state.
"Hell yeah. Instead of speed-dating, it's like speed-siblings." I begin to swing my arms as I walk, like a toddler. "It's kind of like catching up on the years we would have spent together had we been born in the same family. Everyone's so concerned with my comfort in this situation, but yours matters more, I think. It's your home, after all."
I don't know what I expected his reaction to be, but his soft expression soured. It almost looks like he smells something bad, so I do a cursory check of my own scent to make sure the heat isn't getting to me. Still fine, if not a bit like breakfast. "I guess," he says, then purses his lips in thought.
My eyes are drawn to his figure in that brief moment of silence, and I take notice of the charm he always wears swinging from his neck. I'd never been close enough to determine what it was for, but now I can see that it's for a safe delivery. Of a child? It must be. I'm a bit confused as to why he would have that, but something tells me it's because of that sentimentality that just radiates off him at times. I'd never met a high school boy more sincere, more unafraid to express himself with said charm and the braids in his hair. I think of how lucky I am to have him as a brother, out of all the people who it could have wound up being to my miniscule knowledge of the male populace. I'm lucky it was the Asahinas to begin with; they've all treated me with immeasurable kindness, and already my heart warms thinking of them.
Yusuke-kun's eyes brighten, informing me he'd thought of something. "Favourite food," he suggests, seeming proud of the idea.
I make a face.
"What?" He demands, making me laugh at his vehement reaction. "It's a perfectly normal question, and something that I honestly think we should know since we're living together." He pauses. "As well as least favourite – that way we can avoid it."
"It's just a hard question for me," I say. "I love food; it's near impossible to pick a favourite."
He snorts, then crosses his arms around the back of his neck, his schoolbag swinging from the crook of his elbow. "I beg to differ."
"Well, let's hear it then!" I'm eager now, since I can mentally file this away for future meal plans. Maybe it's presumptuous, but I figure someday I'll be cooking for them by myself, much like this morning. It'll help take the load off of Ukyo-san, who does so much already, and is considerate towards each of his brothers whilst remaining strict. I wonder if that really is what a mother is like.
"*Hamburger and grilled meat," he responds, almost haughtily, as if expecting me to praise his choices. I merely cock an eyebrow. "I don't like raw vegetables." He shudders thinking about it, which takes me aback. I loved raw veggies, but that wasn't saying much since I loved most foods.
"So you don't like salad."
"That's different," he protests, and I give him a look to suggest I don't see how it is. "Salad is served as a side and has dressing and stuff. Standalone raw vegetables are not enjoyable."
"Salad is one of my favourites," I say, ticking off the items on my fingers. It makes me suddenly conscious of my nails, how they are plain and unremarkable, when Maho-chan usually has hers manicured and beautiful. "Along with soup – any kind. Just because they're so versatile, and soup and salad can be done in so many ways." We reach the station as I keep prattling on, and settle into a comfortable standing position at our platform. "You can dress them up or down any way you want, and the principles stay the same even as the ingredients change with the seasons." I notice he looks distinctly amused, listening to me rant about food. "Besides that, chicken is my favourite meat, for essentially the same reason – it's delicious when it's done right, and it can be an ingredient itself. Then for overall flavour I prefer spicy; a dish with a kick to it always gets me, especially when it's used as an elevation to the flavour rather than making something blindingly hot, though that's good too."
"I've never heard you talk so much at once," he observes with a derisive laugh. I cut him a scathing look and he stops to clear his throat.
"Food is our lifeblood." Gather around, folks, for Vivi's sermon hath begun. The train arrives just as I begin, stirring our clothing and hair; the breeze is undeniably pleasant in this heat as it rushes to a stop, as citrus sweat had begun to bead out down my back and in my crevices. We clamber inside, stuck in the middle this time and clinging to the hanging handles, trapped in our sweaty white-knuckled grip. "It upsets me when anything goes to waste, because we have the privilege to actually be able to enjoy food for flavour rather than pure necessity. We have options, and a large percentage of the world doesn't. Each meal is a luxury," I hiss, narrowing my eyes at nothing in particular. "As is takeout, unhealthy as it is. We're so lucky to have a breakfast, lunch, and dinner – prepared by a remarkable cook, no less! That's why I don't get diets; of course it's understandable when it's for your health, but I'm healthy enough, so I'm going to eat whatever the hell I want to get that dose of dopamine I have the privilege to partake in!"
Yusuke-kun is pressing his lips together, presumably to keep from laughing again, so I teasingly snap: "What!"
"No holds barred when it comes to food, huh?"
"Never," I respond with a firm pat to his shoulder… which wound up on his pectoral since we were basically crushed together. He coughs. "Anyway, so I won't be putting raw veggies on the menu when you eat with us." I feel a bit awkward now that I'm out of tangent mode, but the subject of food always gets me riled up. Especially when it comes to my father – ugh, he eats cuisine from all over the world and doesn't think twice about it. It makes me want to hurt him, especially when he won't give me the details of the dishes he'd consumed when I press for them.
"Is that why you're such a good cook?"
He doesn't seem to realize that he's complimented me, so I press a hand to my chest – effectively squeezing it between us – and say, "Thank you," earnestly, causing him to flush. Or it could have just been the crushing heat from our packed commute. "That's definitely a reason – I want people to enjoy the food I make, as well as just eating because they have to. Another is I was by myself most of my childhood, and I knew I couldn't survive on microwave meals and takeout forever, so I started to teach myself."
Yusuke-kun doesn't respond immediately, so I take the opportunity to open up to him a bit – being siblings warranted honesty I wouldn't normally be willing to offer up to just anyone, at the risk of sounding like I'm whining. "My dad can cook a little, but just the very basics – and by that I mean packaged macaroni and cheese. I figure that my mom must have done all the cooking, so I took it up not only for myself, but for him to actually eat something good for his health when he gets back from his long trips." I can feel my expression softening, the telltale sign the shifting of my jaw into an almost-smiling position. "I'll never forget the first meal I actually served him, which was actually hamburger, now that I think about it. His face just lit up. I thought… if I could do that for a big family one day, wouldn't it be wonderful?" I can feel my face warming, and I know for certain it's from bashfulness amplified by the heat. "And it happened this morning."
I remember Tsubaki-san seeing me in the kitchen and whispering that dreams did come true. I know he meant it in a joking way, since as his twin so elegantly put it, he "has a thing for little sister types", but I took it to heart. Little did they know that so many dreams I've held close to myself since I was young had been coming true since I moved in with them. Maybe I can tell them someday, when I feel a bit more comfortable, but for now it isn't something I need to convey right off the bat. After all, it is difficult to come out with something that you've locked up inside for most of your life.
"I don't know how to put this… but, somehow, I'm sorry?" I glance up at him, and he looks almost ashamed. "When you first got here, I treated you like an inconvenience, and you thought I was actually angry with you." He breathes out a laugh. "As if I ever could be. But I have to admit I didn't really consider that being with us would make you so happy."
"Of course I'm happy," I say, smiling so wide the corners of my mouth ache. "You've all been perfect gentlemen, and you even got so worried about me last night…" The memory makes me shiver, recalling Kaname-san's expression when I saw him pass under the streetlight as he searched for me. "Independence is nice, but it's even better to have someone there."
He goes painfully quiet as we file off the train, and I shake myself loose, stiff from standing in such a confined space. I lift my arms to allow the breeze under my uniform, since I still wear my cardigan in this weather. I pause him with a hand to his shoulder so I can hike up my socks, which had ridden down in the frenzied rush, and I can feel his eyes on me. So once I finish I look him in his eyes, warmer than the air around us with their near maroon colour, and ask, "Everything okay? Sorry I just dumped all that on you."
"I don't mind even a little," he said earnestly, holding my gaze as we continue walking. This is one of those moments of his that jar me, since he got bashful so easily, but in a situation that could be considered equally as awkward, he suddenly gets so sincere and straightforward. I'm a bit blindsided, but not uncomfortable. "This is what it means to get closer to someone – trying to understand them a bit more. It just makes me realize maybe I took my family for granted a little." He screws his mouth up in a grimace. "Even if they are a pain in the ass most of the time, they're there." His expression suggests that he's laying it on a little thick for me, and I remember Tsubaki-san playing innocent when he discovered he suddenly had gained a new sister. I shrug to myself; that's part of being a family, from what I've seen on television and with Maho-chan and Izumi-san. Weirdly I find myself a bit eager to be irritated by them.
I hear rapid thuds approaching us, and turn around just in time to see Sasakura-kun sling his arm around Yusuke-kun's neck, leaving him to nearly retch. I start laughing heartily as he begins cursing and trying to push him off. "Morning Hinata-san, Yusuke." I take notice of the lack of formality with Yusuke-kun and smile to myself. "Funny to see you two together."
"We just ran into each other on the way," I say, to save Yusuke-kun the trouble. "I moved recently, so we're closer together now."
"No way." Sasakura-kun's hazel eyes widen. "Are you doing okay?"
I'm a bit taken by his immediate concern, and wave his worries away. "Absolutely! Thanks for asking." I laugh a little, embarrassed by his consideration. "My dad remarried," I tell him after Yusuke-kun shoved him off and stormed ahead, muttering complaints and curses. "So I moved in with my stepmother's family." Sasakura-kun and I are friends, not as good as Maho-chan or Yusuke-kun, but close enough that I feel the need to give him the scoop. He is, after all, expressing immense interest.
He lets out a low whistle, ruffling his long brown bangs, which probably wouldn't be allowed in a school with stricter regulations. "Sounds tough. You know you can talk to me if you have any troubles at all, right?"
"Of course," I say, more for pleasantries than actual commitment. I don't feel comfortable unloading my feelings on anyone, really, let alone a casual friend. After we switch our shoes for our indoor ones we part ways, since he's in a different class, and I catch up to Yusuke-kun as he's heading up the stairs to the second year classrooms.
We arrive before Maho-chan again and settle into our seats. I bring out my homework and double-check it to make completely sure I hadn't missed a question, and he squints at it. "Lemme see that," he says, reaching a hand across Erika-chan's desk.
Without even looking I snap it out of his reach. "Forget it," I tell him, and he plays up his disgruntled expression. "I'm happy to help you out with your homework, but I do not condone copying, all right?"
He slides back into his seat. "I was kidding, anyway. I'd never do that… and it's not like Fujiwara would believe I did it myself, anyway." Fujiwara being our homeroom teacher, who coincidentally stuck Yusuke-kun, Erika-chan, and I in the back row, being some of the students who stand out the most. I've kept my mouth shut thus far, just biding my time and waiting for an actual incident to confirm my suspicions that he may be some kind of elitist in wanting a "structured" classroom. Maho-chan agrees with me, and says something about him just rubs most of the students the wrong way.
Speak of the devil. She collapses into her seat in front of me, and I smooth her hair down without being asked. She swats my hand away. "Enough, mom. My hair's enough of a mess as is; like a little windblown look would make it any worse."
I hold up my hands defensively. "Just trying to help. You still look cute as always. Why so out of breath?"
She throws her arms up in exasperation. "I thought I was late, is all, thanks to asshat." Yusuke-kun was listening in, I reasoned, since he suddenly coughed again to conceal a laugh. She gives him a harsh look. "It's no joke. You better not try to pull that kind of shit with Hina."
He stops laughing very suddenly and looks at me. I'd completely forgotten to tell him that Maho-chan had puzzled it out. Before I can say anything, she explains herself: "She didn't say a peep; I was just perceptive enough to figure it out on my own. This queen is champion of keeping secrets."
I roll my eyes, not appreciating that evaluation, since I value honesty above all else. "Sorry about that," I tell Yusuke-kun, who just shrugs.
"She's your friend," he reasons, tugging on one of his braids. "It was wrong of me to ask you to keep it from her in the first place."
"Damn straight!" Maho-chan cheers which we both give her a look for. "Speaking of secrets, I have some Hina trivia for you. Does the phrase, 'I have moist eyelids' seem even a little familiar to you?"
"Noooooope," I cut her off immediately, and she gets that catlike grin on her face that usually means she's feeling smug. "Nope. We promised to only ever bring that up if I was tempted to be stupid again." She's referring to the first and only time I was inebriated, the most recent New Year's Eve spent with her and Izumi-san. My eyeliner had run all up my eyelids and into my brows, then smudged below my eyes. When she told me, I got overly emotional and blamed 'moist eyelids', whatever the fuck that was supposed to mean. I've never drank that much before or since, and had no plans to ever do it again. I didn't wake up feeling like hell or anything, and it had admittedly been fun, but it gave them lots of teasing material that makes me scrub a hand down my face. I rarely ever cry, and crying over smudged makeup was just…
"I'm intrigued now," Yusuke-kun admits, almost sheepishly, and I let out a groan. Not irritated or embarrassed, merely unwilling to delve into my exploits during school.
"Maybe I'll tell you someday," I say, not counting on it.
"Not if I do first," my girl threatens, and I lightly pinch the skin between her neck and shoulder, which she fakes retching at. "Don't do that!"
"My hand slipped."
"I don't want to know where it was aiming, then!" She turns around, indignant as Fujiwara enters the class for the five-minute briefing, but I know all is well when we dissolve into snickers soon after.
"I'm home," I announce as I open the door to the fifth floor. I'd taken the stairs today, feeling like I needed to work off the treats I'd bought in the cafeteria today as well as the two sodas I'd had – I had woken up earlier than usual, after all, and was about to crash around the middle of the day. The stairs were just down the hall from the elevator, on the opposite side of the back entrance, and I had to admit I was not even a little certain if I'd climbed enough or too little. It was five floors to scramble through, and I was slightly winded by the time I reached the top. Yusuke-kun has to work today, so luckily he wasn't there to witness that; and by that I mean when I start getting tired climbing stairs I tend to go on all fours since four appendages get me up faster than two. Now that was a secret I did plan on taking to the grave; only Juli knew that I did that.
Ukyo-san had sent me a text when I arrived at the station, informing me that his trial was going to run late and I could start laundry by myself if I was okay with it. He included a block of text containing instructions on how to work the machines in case I couldn't figure out (which I don't think of as undermining me, rather just trying to be helpful), as well as the order they should be done in. I plan to get started after I change into casual clothes and grab a drink, if I can figure out what I should be allowed to take and if I should text anyone about it – which did, admittedly, feel a bit extra.
The fifth floor is startlingly empty. I'd at least been in there with one other person before (Ukyo-san), and somehow I feel more out of place than I had surrounded by people I barely knew. The dying sunlight illuminates the glossy wooden floors in triangular patterns, the fabric of the crimson couch flushed out by it. Everything is so still and quiet, with only the hum of the numerous industrial appliances in the kitchen to fill the silence, and despite so many people living here the area looks untouched. It gives me pause before I can move into action, and I can't help but brush a hand against the rich mahogany of the dining table where just this morning I'd dined with other people. It already felt like ages ago since I had a meal by myself, and I don't know how to feel about that. Conflict rages inside of me, torn between wanting to throw myself into this family dynamic and grasp everything I've been missing, or keep my distance to save myself from being hurt if it all falls apart for whatever reason. But I know that's ridiculous. It's only my fourth day here, and this was my first time doing an assigned chore rather than offering to help with them. I'm getting way ahead of myself, and I haven't even met all of my brothers yet. Unable to resist I take a deep breath, the scent of the common area undefinable yet somehow comforting. It smells like other people live here, and it never took me long to notice that the old house smelled exclusively of me and Juli.
I'm tempted to open the windows, but I think the aircon is on since the temperature when walking into the building was a breath of fresh air. After standing around for a bit I can finally catch my breath and feel my internal temperature cooling down. I gather myself out of my reverie and hike my bag further up my shoulder when I hear the elevator ding to a stop on this floor. My face is a mask of confusion that melts away when Juli comes scurrying down the stairs.
"I thought I heard you," he says, and I hold out my arm for him to jump on and scurry onto my shoulder. He stays away from my neck for now, since I'm sensitive to the heat and haven't cooled down enough for that yet.
"You didn't have to come down," I tell him, then stop when I catch his narrowed eyes. I throw my hands up in defense, since I'm fully aware that he merely wants to stay by my side when all the guys are around, but it's not his fault he doesn't know they're all gone. "I'm getting changed then starting the laundry."
"Will you bring some of my food with you?" I reply with an affirmative as we enter the elevator and go back down to my room. I wonder why I even went to the fifth floor in the first place if I was planning on going there all along, then I blush as I realize I was hoping to run into someone and spend time with them. Desperate for attention much? I decide there's nothing wrong with that, but I should become more aware of it so I don't make anyone uncomfortable.
I quickly change into leggings and a tank top, then pause before I throw a light cardigan on top, since I'm still not too sure about the reception of my tattoos. One or two probably won't catch them that off-guard, and I wouldn't call my collection 'sleeves', but they take up quite a bit of blank space. The crane is beginning to feel itchy, and it's starting to scab over, which means it is healing and that I don't need to go as hardcore with the ointment and washing routine. I quickly apply some before sliding the cardigan on, then fix my hair into a braid. I hoist up my own laundry into my arms, shoved into a foldable hamper, then lock my door before heading back to the fifth floor.
I need to follow Ukyo-san's directions to find it; it's concealed in a hallway below the loft, to the right of the common seating area. A beam of sunlight illuminates the way, and I pad over with Juli clinging to my shoulder and his food in my cardigan pocket. He flicks on the light as we enter the room, which smells strongly of detergent with a hint of bleach permeating the air. It has to be the most pristine laundry room I've ever seen; the appliances are a rich cranberry and shine as though brand new, and there's two washers and two dryers. I drop my load gently to the floor, the white tile covered with a chic bohemian rug woven in earth tones, to open the large cabinet located on the other side of the room, which is fully stocked with detergent, fabric softener, regular and colour-safe bleach, and not all of them from the same brand. I wonder if they were accumulated when they were on sale or if they chose to spend extra based on individual preferences. There's even a seating area with a small glass-top table and comfortable dining chairs, probably supplied for Ukyo-san when he needed to get work done at the same time as his chores. All in all the room is only a bit smaller with the kitchen, and it doesn't take me long to find out why it's quite so large for merely doing laundry.
It's because it's laundry for eleven – now twelve – people. Ukyo-san's text informed me that each of them brings down their laundry on their own, and there's a shelving unit with small hampers organized into rows with each of their names scribed on them for convenience. I see an extra space at the bottom had been created, which used to announce 'little sis' only to be crossed out and replaced with 'Vivi', and I find myself smiling. His instructions informed me to start out with Subaru-san, Iori-kun, Yusuke-kun's and mine since we wear uniforms and Subaru-san engaged in sports. He, Masaomi-san and Kaname-san are next, followed by Louis-san, the twins, and Wataru-kun. Fuuto-kun's was empty, since he hadn't been home for a while, so I don't have to worry about it for now. I purse my lips then quickly make a trip back to my room to grab my homework so I can do it while I wait for the loads to finish. After I set it on the table, along with a mineral water I'd hastily grabbed from the fridge since I'd seen plenty and figured just one would be permissible, I get started.
I do Iori-san and Yusuke-kun's first, not looking for a prolonged amount of time as I toss them into the washer after checking their pockets and turning the garments inside out. There are a few things that need to be hung to dry, based on my opinion and not Ukyo-san's instructions, and the loads to be washed don't need to be on for an extended length of time; that's reserved for bedding. I mull over the idea that they may worry about tripping a fuse or wasting electricity on doing two loads at once, and figure that they won't have this system in place if so. I can use regular detergent and softener with theirs; Subaru-san is more sensitive to strong smells, so one of the sets of product is set aside for him and advertises that it's the favourite brand of athletes. Something tells me that he didn't come out and say so out loud, but Ukyo-san's stellar observation merely noticed as such and took it into account.
Juli is merrily relaxing on the table, his dinner spread out before him, and this strikes me as a bit odd. He usually helps me with laundry, and even though that only involves dragging the clothes around with his teeth, the thought is there. "Don't feel like helping today?" I ask, out of curiosity as opposed to complaining.
He lets out a sound I think could be a snort. "Like I'd have anything to do with those beasts, especially if it benefits them."
I blow out a breath from pursed lips, ruffling my bangs. "Harsh."
"What did you expect? I owe them nothing, and I imagine that's a trend that will continue through our stay here."
I settle into one of the chairs as the laundry rumbles to a start and spread out my homework before me, and he lets me work in silence, undoubtedly swallowing more complaints. We remain like that for a while in companionable silence, accompanied by the rumbling machines and the crunch of his teeth mowing into his meal. I get through my first subject by the time the first two loads finish, then I move onto Subaru-san's and mine.
As if I'd summoned him, Subaru-san enters the room just as I'm throwing his load into the wash. I get a good look at his expression, which is stricken and almost panicked. "Hey, Subaru-san," I say, my expression riddled with concern. "You doing okay?"
"Uh." His eyes are roving everywhere and come to rest on my hands folded in my lap, then flit over to the washing machine. "Laundry?" He chokes out.
"Er, yeah," I say, wondering if I'd unwittingly done something wrong. "Just started on yours, actually. Sorry if I'm running a little late with it, but - "
"Are you washing my underwear?" He demands, and I reel back as if slapped.
I stare at his face, trying to determine if he's joking, but his posture remains rod-straight and completely serious. His nostrils are flaring and I don't think it's because he's angry – the atmosphere is more awkward then threatening. "Yes?" It comes out like a question.
"You don't have to do that," he sputters, trying to take a step inside and stopping with a yelp when Juli rears up and hisses at him. I ball up one of my camis and toss it at him, muffling his enraged cries.
I'm making Subaru-san uncomfortable, obviously, but I don't know how to approach the issue. "Listen, I'm not looking at anything," I tell him, aiming to be reassuring. "I do my dad's laundry all the time, so it's not like I'm bothered or anything."
"Sure, I get it." That took him a while to get out, and he scrubs a hand against the back of his neck. It leads me to notice he's wearing a thin short-sleeved shirt with athletic shorts, and I am about to ask if he just came from practise to divert his attention when he continues. "But I can do it myself, really."
I take a deep breath and give him a look. "That means I'm going to have to actively sort through your clothes to find them and pass them on to you." My hand drifts toward his designated hamper threateningly. "I'm probably going to have to get a good look to differentiate them from your actual shorts…"
His face is beet red, but by this point he's realized I'm just teasing. "Okay, I get it. Just, you know… tell me if it starts bothering you, because, like, I know it must be weird - "
"Subaru-san." He stops mumbling for a second to meet my eyes with his, his brows drawn down with worry. "It's fine. Just relax, I'm sure you must be tired." I continue loading garments into the washing machine as I say, "If there's anything you want for dinner, just say so. Ukyo-san will be back late so I'll be here to make you something if you feel hungry."
He opens his mouth to say something, and I hear the words stick in his throat. Juli had wrestled out of his cami prison and was examining him with a disgusted expression, his lip curled. He settles for mumbling, "Thanks," before he quietly takes his leave.
Juli opens his mouth, but before he can say anything I point out: "You would do the same if one of them was washing my underwear."
His jaw drops. "And you wouldn't?"
I shrug. "It's just laundry. Occupational hazard." Not that my underwear was anything stately, in the first place. I currently hold that pair with the crabs on them that Maho-chan had pointed out to me the other day, and I'd made fun of. It's inside joke with myself, and I laugh creepily as I hold them in my hands.
Juli swats them away. "Stoppit."
"It's just that she'll never know," I whisper, almost to myself. "And if she does ever happen to see them, imagine the look on her face. The scandal."
"Sometimes, I swear you're a little soft in the head," he mutters, and I know it's said in jest because I'm clutching girls' underwear like some sort of pervert, but it was all part of the joke.
"I'm sure I don't need to remind you that you are a squirrel." My voice is light, completely unperturbed by this fact any longer as I finish loading the wash and add all the cleaning products. "And that, for some reason, I can communicate with you. There's some faulty wiring up there, for sure."
An hour or so passes as the washer and dryer rumble on, and I finish up my homework under Juli's watchful eye. I'm usually good at holding myself accountable, and not procrastinating with my work, but sometimes my brain just can't function with interpreting mathematic formulas and English phrases, so he needs to remain sentinel beside me to make sure it's done. I'm grateful, of course, because it allows me to get all of my work finished, but I'm also made to feel guilty for taking any manner of break. Subsequently, all of my work for the night is finished when I'm removing the first load from the dryer and folding it all as neatly as I can on top of the machines, which has been covered with a marble countertop suitable for that exact purpose. I press out all of the wrinkles neatly, and slap out the laundry against my legs which has withered a bit more than others in the dryer. I have a basket full of pressed laundry, ready to deliver into respective rooms as they have been divided into two separate piles within the basket, as I exit the laundry room with more loads rumbling away. I slapped my work on top to stop by my room first and drop off, and exit the room with the basket balanced on my hip as I open the door and Juli scampers ahead of me to "keep a lookout". There is only one brother present in the living room illuminated by the sunset: Wataru-kun sits alone on the crimson couch, staring out the window with a stuffed bunny clutched in his arms, its face a puzzle of patchwork stitches and fabrics of different colours. He looks so forlorn, his chin resting on his hand and eyebrows drawn, that I almost immediately lower my basket to the floor and approach him.
"Welcome home, Wataru-kun," I say, and his first response is a brilliant smile.
"I'm home, onee-chan!" He responds with his usual energy, but it quickly fades with a lilting sigh released from his chest. At first I'm unsure of how to respond, if he'd prefer to be left alone, or if I should approach him; I'm still not very used to dealing with kids, as there has never been a necessity for me to do so. I decide that I'd rather reach out than leave him alone, to at least show that I'm available as a support system to him. I sit gently beside him, a couple feet away at least, and fold my hands together in my lap.
"Is everything okay?" I ask him, keeping my voice level like I would with someone my own age. He shifts in his spot to face me and crosses his legs.
"I'm just bored!" He boasts, and my shoulders practically sag with relief. This was still a serious problem for someone his age, but I was worried I'd have to do my best with participating in some manner of mature conversation. "Everyone's busy today, and Kyo-chan had to go back for his trial after he dropped me off. And today is a device-free day." He says it matter-of-factly, holding his finger up like he's reciting a lecture, even though I'm puzzled by the phrase. Then again, Masaomi-san is a doctor; he's probably all over the health in this family, even Wataru-chan's brain development and eyesight from staring at screens too often. My own father wasn't around often enough to monitor something like that even if he'd tried to mandate it, which I suppose was how I deviate to video games in my free time.
"Let's figure out something to do then," I suggest, much to Juli's dismay, and I start conjuring up memories of what I did as a kid when nothing else would satiate my boredom. The idea comes to me almost immediately, and I shoot out of my seat and gesture for him to do the same. "We're gonna move this," I begin, grabbing the edge of the glass top coffee table.
"I'll help, onee-chan!" He responds, gently setting his bunny in the corner seat so that it would remain sitting and supported. "It's not good for ladies to be moving heavy things all by themselves!" I have to resist rolling my eyes, because he's just a kid, but internally a sarcastic dialogue swarms in my head like angry hornets. If he only knew.
The legs of the table had those little felt squares adhered to them to prevent scratching the wooden floor, so after we had dragged it away from the carpet - him pushing with all his might while I basically swung it aside - it slid along the floors with a hush. He wiped his forehead with a flourish, and I was almost certain it was a mimicry of an action he'd seen before in such situations rather than actual sweating beading out. Then I started flinging the cushions away from the cough onto the floor, bringing over some chairs, and creating an impromptu obstacle course. I was a little uncomfortable flinging around furniture I still didn't identify as shared with me, but I was deadset on cleaning up as quickly as possible and figured that would have to do for justification. When I finish and turn to look at him, I swear his eyes were actually glittering.
"The floor is lava," I say simply, and he claps with delight, his rabbit now tucked safely in the crook of his arm. "You and I need to navigate the room as best as we can without touching it."
"Navigate to where?!" He demands, the pitch of his voice soaring with the volume of it. "What's the goal?" I haven't thought that far, but unwittingly my eyes slide to my rodent friend, who had been observing from a safe distance, looking painfully disinterested.
"We gotta save Juli," I tell Wataru-chan, kneeling slightly and resting my hands on my knees so that we were level. "He's trapped on an island surrounded by lava, and if we don't try to get to him as quickly as possible, the…" I draw out the word, trying to think of a creature he'd know as well as consider exciting, "the lava golems are going to use him as a sacrifice to their master, which will make the biggest volcano in the world erupt!" I had no idea what bullshit just spewed from my mouth, but in hindsight I think it may have been a little intense. Irregardless, the ten-year-old's jaw is hanging slack, his brown eyes wide and dazzled, and he suddenly starts gearing himself up for battle. He rests his rabbit on top of his cardigan, which was discarded to the floor, and hoists his socks up past his knees. I hop on one cushion, my slippers abandoned with his, and I tell him that we're competing to save him first rather than working together, so we can't be in the same area at a time or we both get a "burn". If either of us get three burns total, we're ash.
I'd never heard someone giggle and emulate the anime heroes on television as well as this little boy. Immaculate speeches of heroism and not giving in spew from his mouth, and I have to restrain laughter because I don't want to discourage his imagination. Since I'm not very coordinated, I genuinely rack up a couple of burns within our first ten minutes of playing. Juli is supposed to be trapped on an island, but since he was blissfully unaware of what we were planning by ignoring my instructions, he kept hopping around and yelling, demanding to know what was happening. The fifth floor was alive with giggles and squeals when more members of the Asahina family began trickling into the common area.
"What the heck is going on here?" I hear Kaname-san's voice ask playfully, and Subaru-san had crawled out of wherever he'd been hiding, his eyes wide and almost frightened. I was not in the nicest looking state, winded by trying to outrun a primary schooler with my curls coming loose from my braid and hanging around me in frizzy tendrils.
Wataru-san was breathless and desperate to explain. "Juli-chan - the volcano - the lava golems - ", leaving me to burst out laughing at how absurd it sounded.
"It sounds like fun for sure," Kaname-san chuckles, flicking his wrist to check the time on his watch. Another one that looked fairly fancy and expensive, making it impossible for me to identify. "Vivi-chan, I can take over from you if you wouldn't mind starting dinner?"
"Of course!" My smile is blinding, adrenaline pumping through my veins, as I leap off of a dining room chair into the kitchen. My stockinged feet slide on the floor, lowering me into a haphazard forward split, which burns my inner things only slightly; I was used to contorting my body in challenging ways from jiu jutsu, leaving me more flexible than most. I righted myself, still giggling like a loon, to find all three of my brothers present with red faces from restraining laughter.
"Onee-chan's nothing but ash now!" Wataru-chan cries with glee, and Subaru-san elapses into a coughing fit from the loft to disguise his laughter. My heart is racing, not just from the exercise now, but from the joy of being a part of the joke and having even the smallest moment of bonding with my youngest brother. He seems done with the game as Kaname-san cleans up, telling me not to worry about it since I'm busy with dinner now in spite of my guilt, and just clings to my side, eager to see how I prepare a meal, which is more scattered than what he must be used to from Ukyo-san.
I was having so much fun, I realize with an internalized start. It was a game I played with Juli when I was younger, and I was always left to clean up on my own and return to solitude for the remainder of my time at home. The laughter that would bubble up inside of me would settle into nothingness again, and I'd be alone. This was so bizarre, a complete reversal of what I'd known since then. The house wasn't empty. More of my brothers began streaming in and filling the room with raucous conversation, including Azusa-san and Tsubaki-san, who had to be all but thrown into the laundry room by his twin to split the job fairly with me.
"Thank you, onee-chan," Wataru-chan says gently, his gaze focused up at me from clinging to my cardigan. "I hope we can play together every day from now on!"
Something in my chest twists and I'm shocked by how I'm almost in tears. "You had fun?" I ask him, my voice only an octave above a croak.
"I can't remember the last time I had that much fun!" He practically squeals, and my eyes burn.
I would have been like that if I'd had someone to play with me at his age. But that's long in the past now, and it doesn't make me sad. More than anything, I'm fulfilled by being able to be there for him in a way no one was for me. The thought isn't bitter, but merely a tad melancholy. His hair is incredibly soft as I drop my hand on his head to deliver a pat, much like my brothers had done to me ever since I'd been welcomed into their lives.