Takahiro arrived too soon. Misaki wasn't ready.
He didn't want to get out of bed that morning and face reality. It was twelve 'o clock pm when he finally checked the time. It wasn't that he'd slept in - or that he'd slept at all - it was because he was too afraid to walk past Usagi's room, and past his office, and into the kitchen.
And be alone again.
Unfortunately, when the doorbell rang and he realized he hadn't prepared at all for his brother's arrival, he knew he'd have to face it all now.
The boy rose into a sitting position slowly and held his hands over his eyes. They were dark and sunken into his head from the lack of sleep. Dark circles, bags, an impending dullness, you name it. Misaki Takahashi appeared as if he very well could've been lying on a table in the hospital morgue.
The doorbell rang again.
"Shit!" He was snapped out of his brooding to sprint to the door. He opened it, not slowly but not with any sense of enthusiasm, to see Takahiro wearing his best sympathy-smile.
"Hey, Misaki. How do you feel?" It was just a mandatory question. Droning out those kinds of words are just what people do in times of crisis. But the answer was already as clear as the layer of sadness that glassed over Misaki's eyes.
The boy shrugged his shoulders. It had been… how long now since Usagi had gone missing? Too long. Just, too long.
Takahiro stepped inside and pulled his little brother into a tight hug. "Don't you dare give up, Misaki. There's no room for failure in this type of situation, and that attitude is certainly not going to provoke success."
Although the boy knew he was right, he didn't see how he could possible feel anything at all right now. Even if he tried, it would be a fake attitude. It wouldn't be how he really felt. Then again, maybe that was just the sleep deprivation talking.
Takahiro seemed to read his mind. "Did you get any sleep last night?"
Misaki nodded slightly, deciding that he may as well not ruin someone else's attitude with the truth.
The older's eyes instantly showed that he knew his brother was lying, but he seemed to let it slide, walking over to the couch and sitting down. "Let's talk this out. We need to set out a plan of action. Have you called the police yet?"
Misaki's eyes widened with realization. He shook his head. "No… I shouldn't have been so stupid! What if they could've found him if I called it in right away?!"
Takahiro patted the spot on the couch next to him and Misaki reluctantly sat down. "First of all, take a breath. Second of all, they would've told you to calm down and wait for him to come home if you called it in right away. You've done nothing wrong. And third of all, 'what if they could've found him' sounds a lot like you're giving up hope. Which you cannot do. If everyone gave up hope, we wouldn't get anywhere."
Misaki just silently listened. He nodded along. Another thing that Takahiro was right about, but that he wasn't sure he could change.
He was so scared.
Takahiro folded his hands in his lap, and that's when Misaki noticed that there was a white bandage over one of the brother's fingers. His left pointer finger. "What happened to your hand?"
"Oh," Takahiro shrugged. "I slammed it in the car door when I got to the airport this morning. No big deal, really.
It didn't seem too minor of an injury, though. A spot of red blood was seeping through to the outside layer of the white bandage.
"You sure?" Misaki asked. "...It looks kind of bad."
Takahiro shook his head. "Nah. It's okay. Don't worry about me. We have to think about Usagi."
Misaki nodded slowly in agreement. "He… I… I don't even know what to do though."
"Well, for one thing, we need to report him missing to the police. How about that?" His brother picked up his cell phone and started dialling the emergency number.
Misaki nodded again and looked around the room as he listened to the beep of each button under his brother's finger. A picture was sitting on the coffee table of Usagi and Misaki. It was from one particularly hot summer day when Usagi had blown off his work to take Misaki to the beach. The boy remembered the memory exactly as it had played out, down to the joke that he was laughing about. His eyes were closed as Usagi looked down at him happily.
He half-listened to the phone call, half-relived the memory. He had to fight back a fresh wave of tears as the brunette immediately thought one sentence to himself.
'I may never laugh with him again.'