From then on, Akihiko tried to take Shinji's advice to heart. He was right; what was whining and crying about the things that happened going to get him? So he might still get upset sometimes... but he had to realize that it wasn't going to help him, and instead, he had to pick himself back up and keep going. That was the way to work things through. Shinji told him so. And if there was an opinion Akihiko valued, it was Shinji's.

The next day was quiet and stiff in the faction, at least between the trio and their surrogate parent figure. He sent them off with Natsuo for the morning with little more than 'have a good day', and they rode on the train to the school in relative silence. Akihiko had made sure to rebandage his injury before departing, something he was starting to make into a habit. His headache had died down, and his injury was less red and throbbing than it had been the previous day - thoughts of this, as well as his fleeting interest in the ocean as they passed it, occupied him. Natsuo could tell that there was a discomfort shared among the trio and sighed, looking up from the homework he was attempting to complete before school.

"...He can be harsh sometimes, yeah?"

All three of them lowered their eyes.

"It's really because he's under a lot of stress. It isn't you guys' fault. ...I mean, you shouldn't have been sneaking out. That's what got you hurt in the first place, and then you went and did it again the day after Aki was released from the hospital. Before that, you were just like every other kid in the faction who snuck out for some thrills... he had no real reason to get angry, just reason to worry. But the medical bill from the hospital was ridiculous, too, and the other surrogates are still pissed off with him about that..." The black-brunette shook his head as if to free it from those lingering thoughts, "He's just got a lot on his mind. He doesn't love you guys any less than he did before."

Miki flexed her hands in and out. "...Does he really love us?"

Natsuo looked choked for a minute. "He... of course he does. He loves all of us."

But Shinji knew better. His voice was bitter when he corrected, "Not any more than every other kid he's forced to take care of."

The black-brunette submitted. "...That's the sad truth of being an orphan, Shinji."

Akihiko had never felt so alone in his life.

"But that doesn't mean he doesn't care about you. He does. He's raised you guys from the time you were really little, and he knows that you're good, well-meaning kids. He gets pissed at me, too, you know. He's even had to thwack me a few times." He laughed half-heartedly, "You have to admit, we have it a lot better than kids who have not only lost their parents, but don't have a home to live in, or an adult to look after them."

So Natsuo had a point. But that didn't make it any easier to accept.

They continued to ride the train in their silence, and when they had arrived to the school, they all departed and wished each other a good day in school. Akihiko and Shinji walked Miki to her class, where she hugged her older brother and ran inside with tears in her eyes - Akihiko's heart went out to her in all the recent suffering he must have caused her. Shinji was less animated today, but told Akihiko that she would be all right; they'd see her at lunch, and the school day would pass soon. This week would be a short one.

That being said, it seemed to last forever. Why, Akihiko hadn't a clue, but every day ended with Shinji and Miki having fallen into a mutual silence, their minds occupied with things that they refused to share with him or each other. Shinji would disappear in the evenings and was slowly becoming lethargic, falling asleep earlier and earlier in the evening, while Miki's trademark cheerfulness was slowly ebbing off for a quiet, distant shadow of her former personality. This change in his friends only furthered the feeling of loneliness that had nested itself in his heart ever since the start of that week. Satoru was cold, and the other children of the faction were not seriously involved in nor cared of Akihiko's affairs. For the first time, Akihiko found himself going on walks on his own, wandering along the riverbed or perching in trees where he could collect his thoughts. He never went too far, or got himself hurt. He made special care not to do so after being so deeply upset by Satoru's outburst earlier that week. But he pondered and pondered, wondering why it was that he could be so lonely when he was surrounded by the same people and places that he had been for years.

On that particular night, Akihiko found himself out later than usual. It was some twenty minutes after his bedtime, and he knew he needed to go back inside before his absence warranted concern. Swinging his legs over the edge of the tree branch where he was perched, he was just about to let himself fall down to a strong landing when he heard something stirring in the grasses and foliage beneath him. He pulled his legs back up, listening past the crickets and cicadas who filled the night air with their symphony of sound, trying to pick out the source of the newcoming footsteps.

"Here, boy. I have some more food tonight." Akihiko instantly recognized the voice as Shinji's, from familiarity alone. "Sorry I'm a bit late. I had a harder time slipping out."

There was more shuffling in the dried grasses below. The boy strained to hear another voice, to find out who it was Shinji spoke to, but he heard nothing aside from several clinks on the bowl that usually indicated eating. Was Shinji secretly meeting someone out here? Certainly not someone else in the orphanage, right? Was it Miki? Was it someone he didn't know, a friend Shinji made from school?

Just a few minutes later, he heard more movement. Shinji stood back up.

"...I'm going to have to go a little earlier tonight, okay?"

A hoarse whimper followed Shinji's backward footsteps, toward the orphanage. Akihiko blinked in surprise. A dog? Shinji had gotten a dog?

"I'm sorry, Haru-chan. My brain's kinda fuzzy, yeah? I have to get back before-"

Akihiko, the intelligent boy he was, snapped a smaller branch in his attempts to maneuver toward the ground. He swallowed and sat still, frozen.

Shinji had fallen quiet, too. So had the dog. "...Is someone there?"

But... why should he be scared of being caught? He wasn't doing anything wrong. If anything, Shinji was the one who shouldn't be out. Satoru had restricted him to the sleeping room for the night, due to the fact that Shinji had lost so much energy that he almost collapsed on the walk home today. He had been tremoring, too. Most of them thought he was beginning to come down with something - which was odd, considering Shinji actually had one of the most resilient immune systems among them.

So Akihiko slipped from the branch, landing with a crunch in the leaves. The dog froze and the fur along its spine rose; the brunette, virtually blind to him at the moment, squinted and tried to identify him. "What are you doing up, Shinji?"

"Aki?" The brunette's surprise was subdued. "What are you-" He paused when realizing Akihiko had already inquired the same thing of him, first, and sighed, "I came to feed Hideharu. I need to get back before Chichi notices. I'm tired, anyway..."

He was still trembling. The dog whimpered and nuzzled his leg.

Akihiko's mind clicked. "Is this the stray dog that Natsuo was talking about?"

"Yeah." A few hoarse coughs. "I went to find him... and he followed me back."

"Wait, you've been feeding him your food all this time?"

Shinji grimaced and looked away.

"Shinji, you're starving yourself!"

"I still eat at school. It's just been... less, than usual."

"I was starting to wonder why you started asking everyone for their leftover food." Akihiko bit his lip. How could he not've realized this sooner? Shinji had been starving - that's why he didn't care when asking for food warranted more insults regarding his heritage, or lack thereof. "Look, I know you want to help the dog, but you can't possibly-"

"And let him starve?" Akihiko flinched back from him. "I'm not going to do that!"

The dog - Hideharu - reclined on his haunches, his ears lowered. He whimpered menially between the two boys, likely unsure as to what to do.

"Why don't we ask if Chichi will let us keep him at the orphanage?"

"You really think they'll let him? They'll just take him to the pound."

Akihiko couldn't argue with this case, either. The last dog Shinji had found was sent straight to the pound, and he could remember walking there every day with Shinji to visit him... but not even a week later, they were sent back out under the premise that the dog had 'found a better home'. They knew it was a lie; the dog was dead. But that didn't mean that coming across his body in the garbage on their way out of the back of the shelter was any easier. That was probably one of the few times he had seen Shinji break down and cry.

The boy was at a loss. More than anything, he couldn't understand why Shinji had hidden this from him. "...Why didn't you tell me about this sooner?"

"You just got out of the hospital. You need your strength. I knew that if I told you, you'd be giving all your food up to him, too, and I didn't want you to get sick."

"But if we split up the amount of food between us, you won't have to go hungry." His eyes went down to the form of the canine, to which he smiled and held out a hand. Hideharu gave him a few attentive sniffs and his tail began to sweep across the ground, standing and accepting a few pets from the platinum boy. Nightfall and the shadow of the trees made it difficult to get a clear picture of the dog, but Akihiko's unadjusted eyes could at least make out the patches of color for which Shinji likely named him. You know, he'd always wanted a dog. They were so lively - they were loyal and built to protect, too. They could go on walks with him! They could take him to the beach, and Akihiko could race him and everything!

If Shinji said anything to protest this, then - which he did - Akihiko was oblivious. "Hey, have you taught him anything? How about sit? Sit, Haru-chan!"

The dog tilted his head and panted, his tongue lolling out from his teeth-lined jaw.

"Well, okay. We'll have to work on that. But, uh... hmm. Oh, we should teach him how to play dead! Or how to high-five! You can teach dogs how to do that, right?"

"You're not listening to me at all, are you?"

Akihiko looked up and smiled. "Not really."

Shinji rolled his eyes. "Why do I even ask?"

۞

Winter was coming. The cold was settling in earlier this year, seeing as it was only September. Miki could tell, because she was starting to get goosebumps despite lying in bed, snuggling herself underneath the blankets. The spot next to her was cold, empty, serving as a constant reminder of the fact that Akihiko hadn't returned and retired to bed yet.

The moonlight flittered through the window of the sleeping room, bathing it in a pale, ethereal glow that only seemed to emphasize the loneliness in her heart. Her hand - dainty, small, as it had been called - went out toward that light, clawing through the beams and creating shadowy patterns across the gentle curves of her cheeks as well as breaking up its glow across her extravagant, shoulder-length, silvery locks.

Little did she know, her feelings were shared by both of the boys she held so dear to herself. What was it that had caused this rift? Perhaps there was not a singular answer to that question. Shinji was coming to realize his place as the 'extra' to their circle, as the one set aside from the tight bond the siblings shared; Miki saw the two boys, the way her brother so admired Shinji, and envied the closeness they had whereas she was separated from them day after day for a reason as trivial as her age, being a year younger than them; Akihiko, then, saw the way both of them were withdrawing away from one another, and found himself unable to explain, much less understand, what was amiss.

But Miki - no, she didn't think to tell her brother what secluded feelings had been fostered in her heart. She had long started to wonder, for what reason did he hurt himself to protect her? The memory of him, pinned underneath that vehicle, bleeding and delirious and near-death, was forever scarred into her. What if he hadn't made it? Would she be the one responsible for his death? If she hadn't been there, he wouldn't have jumped down. He wouldn't have put himself in harm's way, and so he would never have been hurt. And yet as much as she resented her dependence on her brother, she realized just as much that she needed it. These recent weeks of being teased and shunned by her classmates, who had come to realize how weak she was in his absence, had only made her yearn even more for his protection. He would set them straight if only he knew! But... she had to stop depending on him. Because she did, for everything. Her classmates knew that, and exploited that. She wanted to be strong, like him, like Shinji... but trying to withstand all of it on her own, without breathing a word to the boy she had shared everything with for her entire life, was so much more difficult than that. Every time he was near, the words pressed at her throat. 'Please! Make them stop!' She shut her eyes. 'Don't leave me! You're the only friend I have!'

Tears swelled against her eyelids. But she kept them in, trying to calm her unsteady breathing, and reached out within herself for something like peace of mind.

Minutes before she fell asleep in this fragile and restless state of mind, she heard the door to the sleeping room click open. She opened one of her eyes, on which those same tears had dried, prohibited from escape; she saw the form of two boys whom she easily recognized, and gently sealed her eyes back shut. She heard them shuffle about, walking to their respective beds - Shinji's being nearby, and Akihiko's being the very one Miki herself still occupied - and shuffling themselves underneath the covers. Her brother presumed she was already asleep, she was sure. Once comfortable on the mattress, he turned his back to her and began to drift off into the nuances of sleep.

She opened her eyes again and turned her head to look at him. When they were younger - they had always shared the same bed, because each one's presence comforted the other in those years - he was much more open to the idea of closeness... as they had gotten older, though, he started to wedge a distance between them, and always kept his back to her. Why? ...She wasn't sure. She didn't think much of it the first few times. But now, here she was, looking back and wondering why he had revoked that closeness with her...

It was just because they were getting older, wasn't it?

It wasn't because he loved her any less than he did back then?

And then again she clenched her teeth and shook her head, wondering how she could be so deluded. This was the same boy who risked his life to save her. Of course he cared about her. Then, why was it that he felt so far away...?

"I love you, Akinii," She murmured under her breath, turning her own back to him, balling the blanket in her palms. "I'll always love you, no matter what..."