Aniki
Lingering Smoke
The smell of smoke lingered in the nostrils of the seven-year-old, a shiver running down his spine as the police officer draped a blanket over his shoulders. The four-year-old lay on the small bench next to him, far quieter than he usually was, fast asleep and call. One hand reached down to ruffle the hair of the younger sibling, the dark eyes darting around looking for any sign of their mother and father, while the officer yammered away on the phone, casting suspicious looks towards the two children.
Instead, a man with white hair and stern features came for them, dressed in a traditional kimono. Another man stood behind the man in a black suit. The man's stare sent a deep shudder down the boy's spine. "You. You're my grandson, Shirogane Takashi?"
The boy's mouth opened, attempting to voice what he wanted to say. He nudged the younger awake, confusion on his face. The four-year-old blinked, yawning. "Where's mama and papa?"
"They're gone. The two of you will be coming with me."
"Shiro..." The four-year-old buried his face into his brother's clothing. "I don't like him."
"He says he's our grandfather." Shiro's eyes narrowed, his mouth pushing together tightly. "How do we know you're telling the truth?"
The man continued to glare at the boy, finally turning to the man behind him. "Apologies young master, but that is not how you address the head of your family."
The seven-year-old wrapped his arms tightly around his brother's shoulders, his mouth opening. "Papa's the head of our family."
The man standing behind the old man opened his mouth to protest, only for the man claiming to be their grandfather to hold up his hand. "Ignore the boy's lack of proper etiquette. There will be enough time to drill into his head how the Shirogane family functions. He's still young."
Shiro felt another shudder, pulling his younger brother tighter. "I've never heard of you."
The man didn't respond, and instead grabbed the arm of the seven-year-old in a painful manner, dragging him off the seat, and forcing him to let go of his younger brother. Shiro leaned back, his own mouth forming a frown, while his younger brother launched himself at the old man's legs, kicking and screaming, only for the other man to scoop him up and carry him outside. Shiro attempted to struggle, only for the man to hit him, making his eyes widen, his entire body shaking. "I won't be having you act in this childish manner Takashi."
Defiantly the boy looked up. "I am a child."
"This is not how the child of a noble clan acts, particularly the child whose heir to the headship. You will learn the family ways, and act in a proper manner."
The man placed his hands between Shiro's shoulder blades, pushing the boy forward to the limo waiting outside. The locals gathered, staring, and the boy couldn't help but hear mutterings of good riddance. His younger brother sat on the back seat, his temper flaring as deep breaths escaped his lips. Shiro's mouth tightened, wondering if the old man would result in punishing his younger brother. The seven-year-old felt his throat tighten. "Akira, calm down."
"But..."
"It will be alright." Shiro looked at the ground, the feeling that things wouldn't be alright not going away like he wanted. The sickening feeling kept hitting him deep in the pit of his stomach, twisting about in a raging manner. Somehow he managed to control his own temper.
The limo took off, the sound of gravel crackling under the wheels. A glance out the window led Shiro to look out in time to see the family home as the past, his mouth opening up to see black limbs smoldering. The boy nearly jumped as a firm hand was placed on his shoulder, making him turn to look at the old man. For a minute he thought he saw a shred of emotion in the man's eyes, but then the hand left, and the old man turned to look at the front, while his younger brother shook, only to finally lunge himself into his older brother's arms, hugging him tightly.
The drive itself was long, and both children dozed off until the old man's voice spoke up. "We're here. I am going to place the two of you into the care of Lady Shirogane. I expect the two of you to behave for your grandmother. I, in the meantime, have funeral arrangements to make."
The door to the limo opened, and the man stepped out. Shiro glanced out, his jaw tightening as did his arms around his younger brother. For what seemed like a long time, he didn't move, fear riveting through his body. An old woman came and peered into the limo. "Come now. We need to get the two of you cleaned up before the rest of the family arrives."
The two slipped out, the younger following the older as they looked around at the traditional mansion sprawling in front of them. The four-year-old's fear quickly left, and he took off down the path, only for the old woman to speak in a harsh manner. "Shirogane Akira! No running."
"He's four." Shiro flinched as the old woman glared at him. "He doesn't know better."
"He doesn't know better, because your mother didn't teach him better, not because he shouldn't know better."
The seven-year-old worried his bottom lip, his small hand reaching out for the younger. His brother hurried over, grabbing the hand tightly, clinging to his side. Shiro's free hand reached down to ruffle the younger boy's hair, watching the adults around him carefully. The woman led them to a sitting room and requested that they sit on the cushions, leaving them there while she prepared their baths. Shiro's brother's attention wandered quickly, and he was soon running around the room giggling.
"Akira..." Shiro patted the cushion next to him, and for awhile his brother would sit, only for the need to move to arise, an urge Shiro himself fought back, his teeth worrying his lip as he sat there. A couple of servants walked past, looking in speaking in what they thought were whispers.
"The new young masters well behaved, but that other child..."
"Don't mind him. From what I hear he won't be here long, as there are plans to adopt him out to the Kogane branch family."
"Shush. That's not been confirmed, and I think the young master can hear us."
The nasty feeling wouldn't go away, and Shiro snapped. "Akira!"
His younger brother stopped in his tracks, looking him in the eye. "Shiro?" The eldest knew the younger didn't like being spoken to that way. "Where's mama?"
"She..." Shiro opened up his arms wide. "I need a hug, please?"
The four-year-old dove into his arms and Shiro held his younger brother tightly, fear about what would happen next racking his mind.