The Sun Scratched in the Stars

A Yu-Gi-Oh VRAINS fanfic

Summary: A boy on the run from a dangerous home situation falls asleep at a dojo in the countryside. Discovered and taken in by the owners, he grows to understand what love – and loss of that love – truly means, with the help of a rambunctious, fiery-spirited boy close to his age.

Chapter 5

Kamishirakawa Residence

After putting the final touches on her ponytail and tightening her green and white polka dot ribbon, Kiku admired herself in the mirror one last time and smiled. The day that she would prove once and for all that she was faster than Takeru in a race was finally here. He was gonna learn better than to challenge her in anything sportsy. She had broken in her new pink athletic shoes over the last month to prepare.

When Kiku walked to the front door, however, Mama, with Benji in her arms, saw her and called out, "Kiku?"

Kiku turned around. "Yes, Mama?"

"Where are you going?"

Kiku raised an eyebrow. Where else would she be going if Mama hadn't asked her to go to the store?

"To see Takeru? We're gonna race today," she said.

Mama sighed and shook her head, confusing Kiku even more. "Kiku, I'm afraid you can't see Takeru today. Or anytime soon."

"Huh?!" Benji cooed at the commotion, and Mama made a shushing noise. Kiku shrank back. "Sorry," she said. "But why can't I see Takeru? Did I do something wrong?"

Mama looked out the window. "No, no, sweetie. You did absolutely nothing wrong," she replied. "Takeru and Ryoken are the ones who did something wrong." Mama frowned. "Something terrible. So Ryoko's not letting anyone see them. Or each other."

Looking at Mama's troubled face, Kiku felt her heart pound a little faster. Kiku wanted to ask what happened, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Well, Takeru got Ryoken in trouble, but . . . he also got himself in the biggest trouble imaginable, and she didn't think it was because of a harmless prank. That wasn't the plan at all. Kiku then felt her heart get heavy. If only she had said something yesterday. If only she had told Mama that Takeru was acting weird.

Kiku sniffled, and Mama quickly got up, putting Benji in the crib. "Kiku?"

"Mama, I should've told you," she said in between sobs. "I should've told you about Takeru."

Mama sat on her knees to be at Kiku's level and gently grabbed her arms, her dark brown eyes softening. "What about him?"

"He. He was acting weird yesterday. Not like himself at all," said Kiku. "He was very moody, but it was a quiet moody. Not like him at all." Kiku's sobbing got worse. She didn't know why she was getting so choked up over it. "I thought I was making things up, that it was all in my head, so I didn't think . . . I didn't think . . ." Kiku wasn't able to finish her sentence before she crashed against Mama's chest, having completely given up to her tears. Kiku was pulled in further as she cried. And cried and cried. Mama only smoothed the top of her head, and the sensation eventually calmed Kiku down.

"Kiku," softly said Mama, "I know you feel you have to look out for Takeru since he's your first and best friend. But you don't have to do that. This is something the Homuras have to deal with."

"But—" Kiku protested, but Mama shook her head.

"Let's just trust them, okay?"

Kiku pouted and sniffled. She wanted so badly to go to the Homuras, find out what happened straight from Takeru since the adults weren't gonna give her any clear answers. And, if she were Takeru, she'd just go ahead and do it, no matter what Mama or Mama Homura said. But she wasn't him. She was gonna listen to Mama and wait it out. Maybe Takeru would tell her when he was able to go outside again, maybe not.

She just hoped he was all right.

Kiku undid the ribbon in her hair and walked over to her little brother, asleep on his back with his hands balled up in a fist like he was ready to fight. Giggling, Kiku poked his tummy, and Benji's face scrunched up before relaxing again.

"Well, Benji, you'll be seeing Big Sister a lot more in the next couple of days," she said. "Better get used to it."

Benji only sleep-gurgled.

Homura Residence

It had to have been a dream.

When Takeru lazily woke that morning, Mommy's worried gray eyes stared at his. Mommy never woke him up. Takeru would get up on his own (because he's hungry) or Obaa-chan or Ojii-chan—since Mommy and Daddy would be at work—would stand by the door and tell him it's time to get up. So, anyone patiently waiting for him to wake up didn't happen.

Until that day.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Mommy's caring voice said. Takeru only moaned and rubbed his eyes as he sat up, unsure if he was awake.

"Mommy?" Takeru said, still rubbing his eyes. A gentle hand ruffled his already messy bed hair, and Takeru giggled. He loved it when Mommy did that. Feeling more awake, Takeru asked, pouting, "Mommy, aren't you gonna be late for work?"

Mommy frowned for a second before she smiled. "Work knows I'm here, so you don't have to worry," she said.

Takeru blinked. It had to have been a dream. Mommy's job wanted her to travel all over the mountain area, and she's the only one at work who does it. There's no way they'd let her be at home in the morning because adults weren't nice like that. At least, that's what Daddy had said. But no matter how much Takeru rubbed his eyes, Mommy being in front of him didn't change. Within a second, he was lifted from his bed onto her lap.

"So, you're gonna be here? All day?" Takeru looked up at Mommy, his blue-gray eyes sparkling. Mommy smiled, nodded, and combed her fingers through his hair as he snuggled up against her. She was warm, and Takeru's eyelids felt heavier.

"Takeru," she whispered.

"Yes, Mommy?"

A pause. "I love you, no matter what. Don't forget that, okay?"

Takeru nodded. "I won't, Mommy."

She held him tighter. "And Daddy and Ojii-chan and Obaa-chan love you too, even if. Even if their love looks a little different."

Takeru nodded, slower that time. Something was off. Mommy sounded scared when she said that. Before he could think on that, however, his door slid open—partially—revealing Ojii-chan in his outdoor clothes. He looked at Takeru for a moment, then at Mommy, then back to Takeru.

"Breakfast is ready, Ryoko. We'll be outside with you-know-who."

"You-know-who?" repeated Takeru, looking at Mommy. But Mommy only closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and released Takeru from her embrace. She didn't acknowledge Ojii-chan's statement as she grabbed Takeru's hand.

"Come on, firecracker. We're having breakfast now," she said. Her voice tried to sound cheery, but Takeru could sense that cheeriness was forced. He didn't think too much about that, however, because his mind—and his stomach—immediately shifted gears to the food. All meals were good, but breakfast was his favorite, especially miso soup and grilled fish. He hoped they were gonna be served that morning. Takeru and she walked to the dining room, and Takeru hopped on the chair, swinging his legs and humming.

"I wonder, I wonder, I wonder what's for breakfast," Takeru said in rhythm as Mommy set the table and brought out the food—grilled fish and white rice. Seeing the grilled fish, Takeru's eyes lit up, his smile getting wide. It was his favorite! Mommy took her seat across from him and folded her hands.

"Thanks for the food," she said. Takeru looked around the table, noticing it was only the two of them, but also quickly said "Thanks for the food!" and the two ate their breakfast. Or, more accurately, Takeru inhaled his breakfast.

Mommy laughed. "Slow down there or it'll get caught in your throat," she said as Takeru swallowed his bites whole. But Takeru only grinned as he stuffed his face more with food. It was good. He couldn't help it! So it didn't take long for him to clean his plate. With his belly full, he could focus on what had originally bothered him.

"Mommy, where's everybody else?" he asked.

Mommy smiled as she still worked on her food. "Daddy's at work, and Ojii-chan and Obaa-chan are outside." Takeru sat up, expecting more, but Mommy said nothing else, and Takeru pouted. That answer wasn't satisfying at all. It was a rule that everyone ate together at the same time, so to sit at a near empty table and eat felt out of place. Daddy not being at the table was one thing since he's at work, but Ojii-chan and Obaa-chan not sitting with them? That was weird. And Pretty Boy not eating with them was even weirder.

"But, Mommy," said Takeru, "we always eat together. And Pretty Boy always sat across from me too. What's going on?" But Mommy only cut up the last of her fish with a knife, as if she didn't hear the question. She, however, then set her utensils on the plate loudly, and Takeru could only watch in amazement. It was rare seeing Mommy like that.

"Takeru," she said, her voice sounding restrained, "you are not to see that boy again. Understand?"

One day, all the adults in the world tell him to make nice with Pretty Boy, and the next, he's being told to stay away? That was strange. Did Pretty Boy get in trouble somehow? That wasn't Kiku's plan! Ugh, he'd really done it now. And he wasn't going to be able to see him again? No way! "But why?" he asked, his voice getting higher.

"Why?" Mommy repeated, as if Takeru had uttered a forbidden spell. "Why? Takeru, do you have any idea what happened last night?"

Takeru's face fell. Last night? He didn't remember last night at all. He had visited Kiku, then he came back, and then . . .

And then . . .

And then . . . ?

What did happen last night? Remembering the day before should be so simple. Why couldn't Takeru do it? He could recall the day before yesterday with ease, yet yesterday was such a mystery, a blur, a fog. What was going on? What was wrong with him?

"Mommy, I. I don't remember," said Takeru, his voice trembling. "I don't remember!" The corners of his eyes watered, and he immediately wiped them with his sleeve, his eyes burning. A chair being pushed away from the table was the only noise before he was lifted from his own chair, cradled in Mommy's arms, the safest place in the whole entire world.

He felt Mommy kiss his forehead and heard her whisper, "It's okay, Takeru. It's okay, it's okay. You don't have to remember." And he knew he was supposed to feel better. Yet he only felt an emptiness inside: a gnawing, growing emptiness that would be hard to erase. Something terrible happened last night, a something terrible he felt he caused. He's a troublemaker, after all. But what was it?

Takeru couldn't ask Mommy. He didn't think Ojii-chan and Obaa-chan would help either. Adults had that special code among themselves not to tell kids what's going on, even though it'd make things so much easier. And there's no way Kiku would know – she was at her own house at the time. That only left one person: the one person he was forbidden to see.

Homura Garden – Homura Residence

White gardening gloves on, Ryoken carefully plucked the red flowers from their beds and placed them in the light green flowerpots filled with dirt. Homura ojii-chan shuffled over next to him as Ryoken methodically took the plants, checked them, and put them in the pots.

"You're a natural," Homura ojii-chan said, taking one of the filled pots. Ryoken muttered a phrase of gratitude before he continued, "These alpine bearberries are going to look great around the house when autumn gets here."

Autumn. One of the four seasons. That's right, Ryoken recalled, we're at the end of summer now. He'd forgotten what season it was already. Although he'd spent a majority of his time indoors at Father's, it was easy to tell not only what the weather was like but what season it was based on the state of the flowers outside his room. If the flowers were swaying back and forth gently, it was good weather. If they looked as though they were going to be pulled up, it was bad. But being with the Homuras, Ryoken hadn't been as attentive—too much had happened, was happening.

Ryoken rubbed his forehead with his forearm and stood up, his clothes littered with dirt and various seeds. Even though it was morning, and he was by the mountain, Ryoken felt incredibly heated. He wasn't used to working that much, so his arms and legs ached, chest burning. Ryoken was almost embarrassed with how little energy he had for the most basic activities. Even the grandparents had more energy than he did!

Homura ojii-chan laughed at the sight and handed him a huge jug of water, as big as Ryoken's head. "Take this. You look like you need it. We can stop for now, anyway. Harue will get mad if we don't leave any work for her to do," he said with a laugh. Ryoken took several moments to examine it before he chugged the water, nearly gulping the entire thing.

"A horse to water, aren't ya?" Homura ojii-chan joked, playfully elbowing the boy in the ribs. Ryoken blushed, realizing he hardly left any water for the man.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, but the older man simply patted him on the shoulder and shook his head.

"That's all right. There's always more water where that came from. Anyhow," Homura ojii-chan stood up, "let's get you cleaned up at our place this time. Ryoko would be furious if we tracked any dirt." Ryoken nodded and followed the older man. Along the way, Ryoken caught a glimpse of Takeru smiling, playing with a few toys in his room through a window there, and Ryoken's heart jumped.

"You need to stay away from Takeru."

Ryoken shook his head. No, Ryoken, he told himself. You can't. You can't hurt these people anymore. He, having fallen several steps behind, ran up to Homura ojii-chan, thinking no more of the boy in the window—well, he tried to. But, when he and Homura ojii-chan arrived at their destination and after greeting Homura obaa-chan, Ryoken's mind flashed to the red- and white-haired boy again. He tried taking a longer time to wash up than usual, reading higher level books, staring outside the window while focusing on the flowers—none of that worked.

And Ryoken didn't understand it at all.

Yes, Takeru had a spark that Ryoken seemed to be attracted by—or confused by. A moth to a flame. But, Takeru had also tried to choke him. It just wasn't normal to want to be close to your attacker.

Was that really Takeru's fault? Didn't you deserve it?

Ryoken's head pounded, his vision blurring. His thoughts had been more severe, more demanding ever since the night before. His conflicting thoughts, thoughts that made him not sure of whether the whole thing was even worth it anymore, thoughts that reminded him that the alternative was no better.

He was at a crossroad.

He couldn't go back to Father—his life would be in danger. The man whom he most revered was no longer there, if Father had ever been that man at all. Yet, he was still Father's son, his obedient, loyal son, who had even Father's most vile traits running through him. And that was why he couldn't stay with the Homuras either. They were a family he could never have, a family—he was sure—managed fine before he barged in uninvited. Yet even though he had done that to Takeru, they still took him in, they still took care of him, they still invited him to do things with them.

Why?

"…ken. Ryoken!"

A firm, gentle voice snapped Ryoken out of his thought spiral, and he found Homura obaa-chan staring at him, her eyes full of concern. How long had she been standing there, calling his name? Ryoken was usually never that absorbed in anything to where he couldn't hear anyone. Last night had certainly made a mess of things.

"Sorry, Homura obaa-chan," said Ryoken, forcing a smile to make the apology genuine. "Did you need something?"

Homura obaa-chan sighed, crossing her arms, and a laugh sounded from someone else coming into the room. Ryoken glanced in the laugh's direction to find Homura ojii-chan with a steaming cup in his hand.

"You're a good kid, but you certainly can be a handful like Takeru in your own way," he said.

Homura obaa-chan stared at Homura ojii-chan, who shrank back slightly, before she sat down next to Ryoken. Ryoken stared.

"I-we want to ask you, Ryoken," said Homura obaa-chan. "How about living with us instead of with Ryoko and Hisahito?"

At first, Ryoken didn't think he heard the question right. As the words finally sunk in, however, he clutched the bed sheets. Yet another idea that was perfectly reasonable. The farther away from and less likely he'd see Takeru while staying away from what Father was planning, the better. Plus, he'd be able to lose himself in the quiet of gardening and reading each day. The perfect set-up, something Ryoken had always wanted since he intruded on the Homuras.

Even so, Ryoken's heart still resisted. His brain and his heart, for whatever reason, weren't on the same page. As much as Ryoken wanted to listen to his brain, to his reason, his heart was louder. And what his heart wanted, even though he couldn't see him, talk with him, even though he had hurt him, was to be close to that boy. Close to Takeru.

He would listen to his brain if he were still with Father, but since he wasn't . . .

"I. I-thank you," said Ryoken, "but I'll stay with Hisahito-san and Ryoko-san."

Homura obaa-chan nodded her head. "That would be too much change for you," she said, thankfully not suspecting a thing. "We still thought we'd ask, with how things are now and such."

"And there you have it," Homura ojii-chan spoke up. "Back to gardening work for us. Try keeping yourself busy, Ryoken. But don't wander off, okay?"

Ryoken didn't even know if he was capable of wandering, let alone where he could wander off to, since he hadn't gone outside the Homuras' place. Nonetheless, he said, "Okay," and picked up his bigger books. That should keep him occupied until lunch time. After exchanging goodbyes, Ryoken made his way back to the other house.

Homura Residence

Takeru wasn't a light sleeper, but he was awakened by the sound of a sliding door for the room next to his. Much like his jack-in-the-box toys, he sat up in his bed.

He was here!

Takeru wasn't allowed to see Pretty Boy, but he's the only one who had answers about what had happened. And Takeru knew it would bother him if he didn't find out. He hated being in the dark. Takeru tiptoed out of his own room to the door of the one next to his, looking around for Mommy or Ojii-chan or Obaa-chan. Not seeing them, he sat down and lightly tapped on the door repeatedly. No answer. Takeru tried again, his tapping getting louder. Still no answer. Takeru crossed his arms.

"I know you're in there, Pretty Boy," huffed Takeru. "Open the door."

"Go away, Takeru," came an annoyed reply from the other side. "You're gonna get me in trouble."

Takeru tilted his head to the side. "But trouble is what I do best!"

"Exactly," Pretty Boy replied immediately. "Go. Away."

Such a pain. He didn't have to say it like that. Takeru wanted to barge in there and shake him and give him a piece of his mind. But then Mommy would hear. Then Takeru would be in big, big, biiiiig trouble, bigger trouble than he already was. So, Takeru swallowed his irritation and sighed. "I want to talk to you, Ryoken."

No reply.

"Mommy asked me about last night, but I don't remember a thing," said Takeru. "I know Daddy, Obaa-chan, and Ojii-chan won't tell me nothing. I thought you would."

Takeru heard some shuffling, yet there was still no reply. Usually, Pretty Boy would have some mean-spirited comeback. Yet Pretty Boy wouldn't answer. Or maybe silence was the answer. But it wasn't an answer that Takeru would accept.

"What happened, Ryoken? Why can't I see you?" asked Takeru, his eyes watering, voice strained. "Did. Did I do something wrong?"

Still silence, but Takeru could hear footsteps come closer and closer, but then stop. The door, of course, was still closed.

"Takeru, you really . . . you really don't remember what happened?" Takeru heard the trembling in Pretty Boy's voice. That was a first. The all-knowing, too-good-for-anything Pretty Boy was afraid, afraid like Takeru. Yet, the answer was no different than what Mommy had said before.

Takeru sniffled, trying to keep his tears under control. "No . . . No, I don't." He let a sob escape. "But I think I had a big something to do with it. That's why Mommy won't tell me. Why I can't see you."

The door opened slowly, revealing Pretty Boy's piercing, concerned, scared ice blue eyes. Both stared at each other for what was an eternity, Takeru not sure of what to say. Words failing Takeru more than usual, he stood up and reached for Ryoken's wrist, holding onto his last chance to uncover yesterday's events, his last chance as to why he couldn't remember. He had to find out, he had to, he had to, he had to.

Fate, however, had a different idea.

"Takeru? Takeru, are you here?" Mommy's concerned voice called. Takeru knew he had to let go, but he tightened his grip on Ryoken's wrist instead. He was too close to finding the truth. He couldn't let it slip away.

"Please, Ryoken?" pleaded Takeru.

A noise came out of Ryoken, as if he were going to say something, but a loud gasp interrupted him, and he and Takeru looked to find Mommy standing there, her eyes wide. Without a word, Ryoken yanked his wrist away from Takeru and knocked him over, slamming the door shut.

No. No. No!

"W-Wait!" Takeru called out as he was being pulled away by Mommy. "Wait, Ryoken!" But the door remained shut, and, in mere moments, he was back in his own room, the door slammed behind him. He let a few tears escape, frustrated that his chance to figure out what happened yesterday was wasted. Mommy grabbed him firmly by the arms.

"Takeru, what did I tell you?" she asked, her voice high-pitched. "You have to stay away from him."

"But why?" cried Takeru. "Why can't I see him? Why won't you tell me?" Mommy, however, only pulled him close in a tight embrace until all he could see was her light pink shirt.

"To protect you, Takeru," she said finally. "I don't want you to get hurt."

Takeru further pressed into her shirt. "What does that mean? What happened, Mommy?" But, as usual, no answer came. Takeru made up his mind then. He was going to talk to Pretty Boy, and no one would stop him.

At that moment, Takeru had a plan.