Hitoshi stumbles on yet another sand dune. He glares at it with more vitriol than it deserves, moving back onto the path he strayed from in his inattention.
If he was overwhelmed by meeting Hizashi's two friends back when they escaped, this is ten times worse. The chicken-lizards are absolutely everywhere. As soon as he gets out of one conversation, he gets pulled into another one or he has to stand there while everyone just looks at him, and after that meeting with the alien that kept asking him questions he didn't understand or couldn't answer he's all jittery. The back of his neck tingles in a way he knows will only lessen if he digs his nails in the old scars.
He thinks he did well with the alien in their office. He didn't allude to anything related to Hizashi's work at all, feigned ignorance more times than he can count. He's good at that—aside from when it really matters— and had plenty of practice back Before. He admits it's easier here; they all think he's dumb.
He really was going to go stay by Shouta's side like Hizashi asked him to, but the other had little chicken-lizard kids hanging around him and Hitoshi didn't want to force Shouta to abandon them to hang out with him. He'd been planning on staying out of sight, but the heat was quickly turning his wait into a sweaty mess, especially with his poncho-cape and his constantly-fogging goggles, his eyes were burning from fatigue, and his chest was pinching.
(He knows when he isn't wanted.)
The trek to the hover van isn't too far. The privacy offered by the high tech blinds would be nice too. Plus, he'd get to play with the small furry aliens.
He sighs, pausing to stretch his legs and alleviate the discomfort present in his knees. Almost there. Only a few meters left, turn to the right and he should—
He stops in his tracks. There's no hover van.
Hitoshi walks further, circles the building, searches for any familiar sights, but doesn't find any trace of the vehicle.
He kicks a pebble in frustration, sending it skidding down the path. It rolls in a dip in the sand his foot left.
Sweat beads on his back and forehead. He dabs it off with the hood of his poncho-cape. He must have remembered the hover van's position wrong. Or maybe he was supposed to turn right instead of left after the pink awning?
He doesn't want to return to Shouta or Hizashi right now. His mind keeps returning him to last night. He thought taking care of them would make him feel better, would give him back some purpose, and it did fill the void somewhat. Only, instead of being soothed down from his restlessness, he's overfilled with discomfort, familiar, yes, but… unpleasant.
Hizashi's stumbling steps had sent Hitoshi's heart speeding and he found himself holding his breath every time he caught a whiff of alcohol. For some inane reason, his chest feels tight and raw when he thinks too much about it.
It's an unwanted revelation. He's always told himself he'd rather take care of his parents than stay in the care home, that he enjoys being useful. After all, throwing their stained shirts in the laundry and getting up from time to time to check if they're still breathing is barely any work. People do more difficult stuff all the time! He didn't even have to constantly move furniture like the neighbour's kid, who broke her foot when she dropped a bench.
His teacher hadn't thought so when she found out. He used to hate her for it, but he can now admit to himself that his situation would have been worrying for someone who doesn't know how responsible he is. His classmates sure as hell wouldn't be mature enough.
It's been about five years since he last saw them. Maybe even six. He doesn't know how much time he's spent in space. He'll never see them again, but even if he were back in that building, he doesn't think it would have changed much. They're supposed to attend parenting classes and go through detox before getting custody back, which Hitoshi knows can take time, but he's overheard some of the caretakers talk. They've declined taking up any of the visits they were allocated.
(Again. Hitoshi knows when he isn't wanted.)
He breathes in deep and slow, one hand on his chest. There's no use thinking about it. Balling everything up, he aggressively shoves all the hurt and anger into a small box and throws it in some forgotten part of his mind.
Nodding to himself, he picks a direction and, with fake confidence, walks. And walks. And walks. Until he can no longer feel the odd vibrating in the air he hasn't noticed until it has completely faded away. Hitoshi idly remarks that it's like walking on clouds.
He's jostled out of the sensation when his foot catches on a dip in the ground. He tugs at the shoes despite knowing it won't magically make them stop pinching his toes and the back of his heels that, for a moment, had stopped hurting.
The alien square granola bars' wrappers crinkle reassuringly when he presses the palm of his hand against his sling bag. He takes a few more steps before he gives in the urge to check on them.
He counts and recounts his two bars and five pouches. None of them have fallen out. He places them back in the bottom of the bag and closes it with a relieved sigh.
Anxiety tugs at him to go find Hizashi, but he's decided he'll take a break to reorder himself. Besides, Hizashi's probably tired of having someone clinging on him all the time. It's not like Hitoshi hasn't always been alone. He just has to get used to it again.
Nodding to himself, Hitoshi takes a moment to take in his surroundings. He's in a deserted area that looks like a leafless park with low twiggy plants and small cabins with roofs and no walls to give shade he's never seen before.
He's lost.
Everything's fine. The granola bars and pouches are still safe in his bag. All he has to do is follow the noise back to the center of this town, look stupid while asking for help, and find Hizashi. Simple.
He wanders for a while. Locating the noise is harder than Hitoshi expects. He has to tilt his head and turn around on himself often to figure out what direction the chattering is coming from.
He knows he's getting close when he gets goosebumps and the hair on his neck raises. He walks closer to the chirps and caws, and prepares himself for the amount of people that can make this much noise when he rounds the corner.
Almost immediately, he backtracks and hides. That's a lot more people than he anticipated. There are chicken-lizards he doesn't recognize either, the feathers on their heads forming a sort of crown instead of one bending peak. Looking around the corner feels silly, but he does it anyway.
Yeah, a lot of them are definitely different. He hasn't seen half of them during the happy birthday singing, and Hizashi told him everyone from his family was there. They must be one of the families that came to give their congratulations.
The crown feathered aliens are all grouped together on one side while the Hizashi's family is staying on the other. He's gathering his courage when he accidentally makes eye contact with one of the strangers. Freezing in place, he can't help but stare back until he remembers he isn't supposed to look them in the eyes. He quickly averts his gaze with a drumming heart, keeping them in his periphery.
They tilt their head to the side, but don't flinch away. Oh. Right. His goggles.
He looks back at them. When they tilt their head the other way, he mirrors them, amused to see their feathers go up.
The people around them aren't paying them attention. He shouldn't be interacting with them, they're clearly a kid, about the size of his arm, but they look so weird, Hitoshi can't help but be curious.
They're blue and black, the colors split right in the middle as if someone took two chickens and glued them together. Their lizard part isn't split as neatly, but it's an odd pattern of white and yellow square patches.
They turn toward a bigger alien to their right, pecking their tail to get their attention. Hitoshi's about to hide again, internally berating himself for his thoughtlessness after being so careful to avoid the children that were playing with Shouta, but the bigger alien doesn't even look at the split chicken-lizard before pushing them away.
They stumble back, the longer feathers on their head folding down on their head. To Hitoshi's indignation, no one says anything. Hizashi's family either doesn't notice or they don't care.
His indignation quickly turns into panic when they start making their way toward him. Hitoshi tries to shoo them, waving his arm so they stay away, but it only spurs them forward, their wings flapping to mimic him. Soon enough, they're sitting at his feet, looking up at him.
"Go back," he signs, pointing toward the gathering. "Go."
They start moving, but instead of following his command, they hook their claws in the lower part of his tunic and, before he can react, start climbing his clothes, dipping under his cape-poncho. Hitoshi almost falls over in his surprise, arms coming up to cradle the baby so they stop clawing at his chest. He hopes they didn't pierce the fabric.
He tries to pull them off him, but their claws are sinked in the strap of his bag and he doesn't dare tug too hard in case he accidentally hurts them. They peep when he attempts to pat them down, curls their tail around themself and closes their eyes. Hitoshi stares incredulously at their sleeping form.
He could get them off now. They probably won't wake up in time if Hitoshi shakes them off and makes a run for it.
Hitoshi pauses. Is that something he really wants to do? They might think Hitoshi dislikes them. What if they think he's disgusted by them?
Hitoshi paces while he bounces them gently. The other aliens haven't noticed the baby's absence yet. He looks down at them, their face barely visible under his cape-poncho. They look so sweet.
One eye slowly opens before quickly closing when they see he's watching them. Hitoshi rolls his eyes. No wonder they fell 'asleep' so fast.
He looks back at the gathering. They're talking and don't seem to be running out of steam soon. He can't show up with them in his arms. It might have not been something Hizashi warned him about, but it's not hard to notice that not being allowed near babies is one of those hidden rules. If he's seen carrying them like this, everyone will be scared or angry.
Sighing, he slips his arms inside the cape-poncho and firmly starts setting himself free of their grip. They wiggle around until Hitoshi can turn them around to hold them like a cat; one hand on their front and the other supporting their back legs. He keeps his arms away from his body so they can't catch his clothes again.
Only when they go all loose-jointed does Hitoshi places them down.
"You go back. No more. Finish." They try to climb him again, but he's prepared this time. Hitoshi jumps back, signing sternly at them to stay while he walks backward. They watch him while lifting one foot, but Hitoshi signs for them to go.
He waits until they start making their way back to their family, head bowed in disappointment and feathers all droopy, before turning his back on them.
It's only after about five minutes of nonstop walking and over-the-shoulder glances to check on any tiny stalker when he remembers his initial goal.
His gloved hands make a muffled fwomp when they make contact with his face. His face burns when he's forced to retrace his steps. Thankfully, no one has witnessed his blunder. Hitoshi takes a slightly different route all the same.
In a twist of luck, Hitoshi sees two aliens by the base of a building. They have the crown feathers instead of the peak ones, but Hitoshi's ready to take his chance with them. He's been dreading being crowded by aliens without Hizashi or his spouse. He half-walks, half-jogs toward them in a stuttery slow-fast rhythm.
They both turn toward him at the same time, interrupting their conversation. He nervously touches his face to make sure his face is well-hidden. "Hello, my name is—"he says his name in Japanese. His voice is scratchy. "You can call me Purple. I'm Hizashi's friend. Do you know where he is?"
They both look at each other before looking back at him. The one with blue feathers whistles, before humming low. The hair on his neck rises and the air leaves goosebumps all over his arms. Hitoshi doesn't know that word. "Sorry. I only speak like this."
They look at him with a tilt of the head before softly speaking to the coral red one. Hitoshi tries to parse through their chirps and snaps. One particular long whistle preceded by a series of staccato clicks is particularly familiar. He asked the meaning of it after noticing multiple people use that word when talking about him. Hizashi told him his family uses it to remind everyone Hitoshi doesn't know about his species' rules, so they won't be mad if he messes up.
It's the only word he understands. The rest is said too fast or too low. Hitoshi self-consciously tugs at his hood in the meantime to reign in his impatience. He can wait.
He's considering finding someone else when the one on the right signs while watching his gloved hands, "You can climb, right?" When Hitoshi nods, they chirp happily. "If you help us, we'll bring you to Hizashi."
Hitoshi frowns at the way they speak, all slow and exaggerated gestures, but can't be too mad about it, especially since he does have some trouble understanding when people use words he hasn't learned yet. "I help how?"
"Follow us."
He dutifully does. They take long elaborate twisting paths that Hitoshi has no hopes of remembering. He hopes it doesn't take long. They keep glancing at him.
They join another alien, who's playing with a kid, grey feathers patchworked with softer red. Hitoshi hesitates to come closer, but he's beckoned over by the two he met earlier. And promptly ignore. Right. Hitoshi looks away to give them some privacy while they speak with each other, pushing the sand with his feet.
The pile of sand he had been building comes to his midshin when they finally stop talking. He kicks it down when he sees them looking at it. His cheeks burn when the blue one says something to the one holding the baby. Probably laughing at him.
"We're making a -." The coral one gestures toward a futuristic device, pointed at the top of a building. The end of it looks like a lens, and with the way one of them looks through the other end, Hitoshi guesses it's a camera of some sort. "We need you to climb on this - with them. We hurt our wings so we can't do it. They want to learn how to fly, isn't that right, - -?"
Hitoshi searches for any hint of injury. He thought they were moving pretty well. He's brought out of his thoughts when the blue one tugs him down so they can place the kid alien in his arms. Hitoshi grabs them before he can fully process what's going on. They're really small, barely the size of his arm. The baby alien chirps inquisitively, inspecting him and his clothes.
"You are sure?" he questions. He's surprised they're asking for his help when a kid is involved. The baby wiggles until they're burrowed in his arms, a satisfied sigh escaping them. The calculating look in the coral red one makes him shift uneasily
"Yeah, yeah, they've been - us about flying for the whole day. We trust you. Go on, we're ready!"
Something about this doesn't feel quite right. He looks around, tries to find someone familiar, but there's absolutely no one. Now that he pays attention to his surroundings, he notices they're on the edge of the town.
The tiny peep snaps his attention back down to his charge. The baby chicken-lizard's feathers are so soft he can barely feel them under his fingers. They look nothing like Hizashi's feathers.
The way the bigger aliens look at each other like they know something he doesn't is deeply familiar. When he blinks, he sees older teens whispering and snickering, a glint in their eyes that promises he'll get into trouble. He blinks again and the illusion disappears. The feeling does not.
"Okay." He hoists the kid up, supporting their tail in the crook of his elbow and their body held more securely. "I climb."
Despite the fact they don't react to it, he's certain they can feel his heart try to beat out of his chest. Somehow, the loud thump thump, thump thump doesn't betray him and he's allowed to go toward the building they pointed him toward. He forces himself to walk at a normal pace.
There are grooves in the building's facade that could help him climb to the top, that side of the building angled in a way that slightly obscures Hitoshi from the three other's view.
Is he supposed to… throw them off a building? He furtively tries to ask them if it's normal, but the baby doesn't understand.
Hitoshi doesn't feel good about this. He's seen how Hizashi and his spouse are gentle when they play with little kids. Maybe the baby's parents are more loose?
None of the three other aliens look like the baby. Furthermore, their feathers don't form the usual small spike on their head like Hizashi's family does. What are they even doing with a Yamada kid?
When he gets out of their line of vision, he holds the baby out, his hands supporting their chest. Thinking back on how Shouta played with a few kids, he pretends to drop them, keeping his hands underneath them but letting them have a split second of air time. Any doubt he held evaporates. The baby doesn't even open their wings, only puffs up and looks at him like he's out of his mind.
After making sure he truly is hidden, Hitoshi runs.
He out-of-breath shushes the chirp the baby lets out in surprise, petting their head lightly so they won't alert the feather-crowned aliens. He doesn't dare try to call out for help, in case the three others hear him, nor does he enter a building where he can be cornered.
The wet bandana keeps sticking to his mouth and nose, cutting off his flow of air until he exhales forcefully to push it away from his face.
He ducks behind a building, under a piece of wall that juts out slightly, regret immediately slamming him to a halt. What if he's overacting? For all he knows, the kid can fly and he just ran off with them for absolutely no reason. If he goes back now, they won't even notice he was gone.
Hitoshi pets the baby's head when they thrill shakingly while carefully peering out from under the wall. The skies are clear. There's no indication he's being followed, so why won't his hands stop shaking?
He moves the baby to his left arm and holds his right hand between the bandana and his face. The relief is immediate. He gulps down the fresh air that immediately flows through. It smoothes out the overwhelming sense of panic that managed to build up without Hitoshi noticing into a more manageable size.
His body can't quite relax, but he isn't pulled taunt like a bowstring. Hitoshi prepares to retrace his steps, scanning for any hint of blue or coral red feathers.
A tiny chirp rings beside him.
Hitoshi lets out a strangled scream. He almost kicks whoever startled him out of reflex, only stopped because his head hits the overhanging wall.
Pain explodes in the back of his head. He backs away quickly to get some distance between whoever sneaked up on him and himself, to give himself time to recover.
Through squinting eyes and the specks of alien plaster that dots his goggles, Hitoshi sees the split alien from earlier. He stares dumbfounded as they tilt their head to the side, beating their wings twice. It sends sand flying all over their back.
Clutching the baby in his arms, who's gone all puffy, he bends over in relief, closing his eyes at his own reaction, free hand palming the bag. Two bars, five pouches.
His head throbs, but the incoming headache has more to do with the split alien's presence than with the fear of being trailed. They must have tried to follow him and couldn't quite keep up with him. He should have made sure they actually joined their family instead of trusting them.
Hitoshi heaves a huge sigh, forcing himself to ignore the part that keeps waiting for a fight. He's definitely overacting. There's no grand plot to hurt the red patched baby and he almost killed a kid because of his stupidity. The other aliens are probably telling Hizashi about how he ran off with a baby for no reason.
Hizashi will be disappointed or scared or angry, and at best, Hitoshi won't be allowed to go out anymore.
(At worst…
He doesn't think about the type of punishment they could inflict. The squirrel aliens are proof there are many ways to circumvent their fragility. A syringe full of that clear liquid and he's down for the day.)
A small flash catches the corner of his eye.
It could have been anything. His imagination playing a trick on him. The sun reflecting on someone's jewelry.
Light bouncing on armour and an electric baton.
The split alien squeaks when he scoops them up, tense for a second before claws scramble to latch onto his arms. Noise grows in volume behind him, but Hitoshi doesn't slow down to discover if it's the wind whistling in his ears or people calling out his position.
His muscles burn from the sudden burst of motion, the overwhelming sense of being in danger pushing him past his limits. It spurs him to go faster, streaking the buildings and small dots of foliage into smears of colours. He cradles the kid aliens against him— gentle, gentle— while he ducks under something in his way. He's certain they're behind him. He's too terrified to look, but he knows they're right behind him, silently stalking him. His lungs burn from the strain of his breaths.
The bandana keeps plastering itself to his face, molding itself around his mouth and nostrils, holding him air hostage so he'll be more pliant, only letting him get mouthfuls of oxygen before denying him, as if it'll make him more desperate than cutting it off completely, as if he'll start flopping around like a gaping-mouth fish.
His hands are full and he doesn't dare slow down to pull the bandana off. Hitoshi blindly runs, trying his best to not go in a straight line to keep his movements unpredictable. It's a gamble, because he's gotten cut off by a dead end once, but he takes the risk anyway. He always gets caught faster when he doesn't take random turns. It's unlikely he'll end up in a dead end here too, the area open and devoid of twisting corridors.
He traded confusing hallways for too soft sand; his feet keep slipping and breaking his momentum, and worse, he can't hear any footsteps over the blood in his ears. While taking a turn too sharply he almost kisses the ground, but the almost-fall makes him discover that when he tilts his head down, the angle keeps the bandana from completely covering his airways.
He doesn't know how much distance he's covered, if he's looped back on himself and brought himself right to the three aliens. He doesn't know how long he can continue running. Already, he can feel himself faltering, his eyes unfocusing every so often. In between last second swerves and precarious stumbling, Hitoshi somehow finds his way back to the hover van. For once, Hitoshi's luck is turning around and he thanks anyone who can hear him for leading him back to the van, before immediately cursing them out when he realizes he doesn't know how to open it.
Thinking quickly, Hitoshi dives under the vehicle. It's a tight fit, especially with the two aliens he has to make sure he doesn't crush, but once he's in there, the sand he pushes back in the opening almost completely hides him away.
The split kid coils themself on the back on Hitoshi's neck, where they're more safely hidden by the hood. They stay silent and still, but the other one starts thrilling nervously. Hitoshi frantically strokes their head to calm them, but it only serves to make them cry louder.
"Don't cry," Hitoshi whispers. His throat is so tight, he can barely speak. There isn't enough space to sign. "Please don't cry."
They thrill even louder. Hitoshi flinches when a shadow falls over the opening. He keeps a firm hold on the crying baby when they start squirming around, right hand ready to strike at whoever will try to reach in his hiding space.
A sing song whistle breaks through the blood pumping through his ears. His eyes finally adjust to the darkness. Yellow feathers, red undersides, colourful anklets—
"Hizashi?"
"Yeah, it's me." His accent is horrible and his pronunciation almost makes his Japanese incomprehensible, but Hitoshi welcomes the familiar sounds. Hizashi pushes the sand away to let in more light, enough to be able to sign. "Everything's alright, -. Why don't you come out?"
"The squirrels aliens." Hitoshi realizes he sounds insane, he didn't even see anything, but he can't put the conviction they're in danger aside, and what else would make him feel this way if not the aliens that used him as nothing more than a glorified fight dog? "They found us."
Hizashi stills. He speaks to someone Hitoshi can't see for a while, before turning his attention back to him. "They aren't here, I -. They wouldn't be able to - here without anyone noticing."
Hitoshi latches onto the other's calm composure. Hizashi's taking his claim seriously. He has no reason to lie to Hitoshi; Hizashi has as much to lose as Hitoshi. His feathers only just grew in. "You are sure?"
"Yes," Hizashi promises. He opens his wings, like he's shielding Hitoshi. "Come out, it has to be uncomfortable in there."
Crawling out is difficult. The bottom of the hover van scrapes his back, and when he breathes in, his chest can't expand all the way. It's a vulnerable position to be in, down on his stomach with his head in the perfect position for a good kick and no way to retreat quickly. When he notices the amount of people around the van, he has to stamp down on the urge to push himself back into the hiding space, only refrained by Hizashi veering Hitoshi's attention back to him.
The soft lulling chirping makes Hitoshi lose his grip on the crying baby. He can't catch them before they immediately run toward Hizashi in an uncoordinated gait, thrilling and shrieking ear piercingly. Hizashi covers them with his wings and coos until they calm down.
Hitoshi holds his breath when someone from the crowd steps forward, but they only approach Hizashi to take the baby away. There isn't any trace of squirrel aliens, but it's hard to see anything amongst the fluttering feathers and shiny scales that have started to fly off.
A short whistle brings his gaze back to Hizashi. "It's okay, they were only scared. Come out, we can go in the hover van and you can tell me what happened."
Gathering his courage, Hitoshi pulls himself all the way out. It's only when he has to stand up that he realizes how much his entire body aches. His chest burns, his legs hurt, and everytime he shifts his weight, sharp pain shoots from his feet. Now that he isn't seized by terror, he's definitely going to throw up. It's been a long time since he's felt this out of breath. Even fighting never made him feel like this, only jittery and tired from the adrenaline rushes.
Saliva pools inside his mouth, and he has to use all of his willpower to not rip the bandana tied around his face and spit the saliva out. Instead, he gasps, leaning forward to rest his hands on his knees. The change in position helps somewhat.
Something on his neck moves. Hitoshi automatically puts a hand up to support the split kid, reminded of their presence.
"Who's that?" Hizashi's question sends the people who stayed in a small frenzy. They crane their neck to try and get a look at the split baby. Oh, this isn't good. He's almost certain the red patched alien is a Yamada, but this one's just some random kid.
Hitoshi goes to take a step back, but bumps into the van. "I found them," he blurts out. How is he getting himself out of accidentally kidnapping a child? "They are alone, lost. I help bring back to your family."
He allows himself a small grimace behind the bandana. He's usually better at this, but this should be credible enough, especially since it's technically the truth. It's not lying if they make the wrong assumptions.
Thankfully, Hizashi doesn't press him on the subject. He gestures at Hitoshi to give them to him. "That was really nice of you. Thank you for protecting them." Hitoshi isn't sure Hizashi's sincere, and that lessens the guilt of his not-lying. "We'll take care of them now, you can give them to me."
Hitoshi hesitates. The kid got pushed by an older alien. If they were a little bigger, it wouldn't bother Hitoshi as much, but they're so small. He can't help but fear they'll be handled roughly. Hitoshi turns slightly away and signs apprehensively, "They look weird."
They're clingy, sure, but no more than all the other children he's seen. Their appearance is one of the few reasons that could explain the disgust he felt from the crow-feathered aliens. He carefully monitors Hizashi's reaction when he pulls them out from his hood.
Surprised squawking fills the air when he reveals the split bird-lizard, but Hizashi maintains his composure. He repeats firmly, with sharp gestures, "Hitoshi, give them to me."
Hitoshi is frozen. Hizashi looks angry.
When he slowly reaches out and plucks them out of his hands, Hitoshi doesn't protest. He watches Hizashi coo at them the same way he did the other one, holding them like they're something precious. The nausea somewhat abates.
It comes back when Hizashi passes the kid to another alien, but before he can do anything, he's framed on both sides by Shouta—who seems to have come out of nowhere—and Hizashi. He's too wobbly to resist their pull toward the van. Absentmindedly, he notes how they open it.
When the shutters close, Hizashi silently unties his bandana and pulls off his poncho-cloak for him. His touch grates on Hitoshi's skin despite it being gentle, but Hitoshi doesn't push the claws away. Not when Hizashi's showing him care, insincere as it may be.
Being out of the sun is heaven on his sweaty body. Laying on the floor is even better, the heat leeching off into the metal. Lightbulb pitter patters closer to make herself comfortable on his stomach. It makes it awkward to sit up when Hizashi pushes a water filled bowl in his hands. He's bafflingly gentle then too, handing him the bowl and waiting for Hitoshi to have a good grasp on it before letting go of it.
Shouta comes back with armfuls of blue bags. Hitoshi jolts when the first one comes into contact with him, but he allows himself to slowly relax as the bags' coolness seeps into his skin. It's not his action that irritated them then. It must have been a stressful time for them. Celebrations always are.
Hizashi spreads the blue bags on his neck, under his armpits and around his thighs with frazzled gestures. It feels good enough that he doesn't tell them all of this is unnecessary. "Thank you."
No one's asked him about why he was running around with the babies yet. He expected them to interrogate him as soon as they were in the hover van. The fact that they're doing this instead is destabilizing. Add to that Hizashi's odd behaviour, Hitoshi's unsettled. Unable to wait any longer, Hitoshi spills out, sentences disjointed in his rush to defend himself, "I see three people with feathers like this"—he mimes a crown on his own head—"and they tell me to throw the child from a very big building. I think, 'How? The child is so small, how they fly?' It is so suspicious, so I go find you. And then, the other black and blue child is in the way all alone, I take them also."
Hizashi's head feathers open and go up in one blink of the eye. For a second, dread pools low in Hitoshi's stomach, until Hizashi signs, distressed, "That's… Their flight feathers haven't come in yet!" At those words, Shouta's tail lashes out, hitting the wall. Hitoshi jumps when Hizashi grabs his hands and shakes them. "Can you describe the people you saw again?"
He pulls his hands out of Hizashi's hold and proceeds to do that to the best of his abilities. He's upset when he can't remember their tails' appearance nor their scale shapes (he didn't even know there were so many options) but when Hizashi pats his ankle and tells him he did a good job nonetheless, Hitoshi has to kiss Lightbulb's forehead to hide his relieved smile.
Hizashi goes to speak with someone outside the van. Hitoshi's torn between following him and not disturbing Lightbulb, who's laying spread out on his chest and lazily pawing at one of the cool bags. His hesitation lasts long enough for Hizashi to already be outside with the door shut. It helps that Shouta stayed and that he can see Hizashi's silhouette through the shut shutters.
He startles when Shouta points the scan gun at his head. Fortunately, he's looking at his tablet and saves Hitoshi from embarrassment. After humming, Shouta takes off half of the cool bags. "Did you get lost?"
Hitoshi looks away. "Yes. Sorry."
"You did well to try and find us."
Hitoshi isn't sure how to respond. They're the ones who found him. He isn't going to contradict him though. "Thank you."
Shouta grunts in acknowledgment. And then, for some reason Hitoshi can't puzzle out, Shouta's worm thing taps his forehead three times. He holds himself stiffly while Shouta does it, going almost crossed-eyes to follow the worm's movement.
It's surprisingly not slimy. Rather, it feels exactly like skin and if Hizashi didn't know better, he'd think someone was tapping him with the less bony part of their forearm.
Shouta retracts his skin worm thing without saying a word. Unsure as to what just transpired, Hitoshi follows the most logical route and proceeds to pretend nothing happened. They stay in awkward silence until Hizashi comes back. Hitoshi asks, "The two children are well?"
"The kids are going to be okay. We'll take care of them well." Hitoshi nods in between gulping down the water. Hizashi continues, more adamant. "They belong here, so you don't have to worry about them."
Maybe he wants an actual response? It's odd that they're keeping the split one, but Hitoshi suspects Hizashi only saying that because it's easier than explaining how they'll give the split kid back. He wants to ask more questions, push for something to be done, but he can't without exposing he knows the split kid isn't from Hizashi's family.
It's not like he can do anything about it anyways. They probably won't even care about the kid being pushed. "I am glad they are okay. The two will stay here?"
"Yeah. There'll be an investigation because of what the other family tried to do, but you won't be involved, so you don't have to worry about that anymore."
Hizashi keeps looking at him, like he's waiting for something. Hitoshi's starting to get nervous. Does he know Hitoshi lied? There's no way. "I am glad for them. Your family is nice."
It's finally the right thing to say because Hizashi deflates like all his nervousness fled his body. He squeezes Hitoshi's hands a few times before stealing Motor out of Shouta's worm and giving her to him. "It's going to be alright."
Hitoshi nods, confused but glad the matter has been laid to rest.
He pulls the sleeping bag around his ears to muffle the loud squawking.
"They are loud, yes?" he signs. It's easier—or rather, less painful—than speaking Japanese nowadays. He must have clenched his jaw at some point yesterday because his front teeth hurt more than usual. The constant iron aftertaste in the back of his throat is stronger too.
(Hitoshi doesn't think of bright overhead lights and steady buzzing in his mouth, of waking up with chalk on tongue and realizing—)
Lightbulb clicks in agreement from where she snaked between the bag and his front, bumping her head against his chin. He rubs her velvet soft ear in between his fingers. Motor runs laps around him, doing her best to jump over his legs and oftentimes failing when her legs don't lift as much as she expects.
Hitoshi had to act surprised when Hizashi 'revealed' the truth about the split kid's background. It wasn't too hard to fake, not when Hitoshi fully expected Hizashi and Shouta to not care about giving him updates and pretend the split kid never existed.
They're actually adopting them. It's shocking, but the kid is young and rather cute, so it's not outside the realm of possibility. Hitoshi knows it's not a lie; he can hear them doing their alien birthday song at this very moment.
He was relieved when Hizashi suggested he stay in the hover van to recuperate. He's exhausted and sore all over, his feet still hurt, and he's absolutely humiliated by his freak out from yesterday. The squirrel aliens being here, how dumb can he be? Passing time laying in the sleeping bag with Motor and Lightbulb is leagues better than having to stand there while everyone talks behind his back.
It hadn't even been a dig at his declining stamina from Hizashi's part. The alien is disproportionately worried despite Hitoshi reassuring him he's fine. He'd still be waving the scanning gun at him and asking him to describe his feelings if it weren't for Shouta pulling him out to join everyone.
Hitoshi plays with the space pets until he tires himself out. He's already fed them for today, so he doesn't resist when his eyelids grow heavy. Shouta and Hizashi trusting him to feed Lightbulb and Motor settles the worry he'd been holding.
The space pets continue running after each other, their clicks and the pitter patter of their paws relaxingly adding life in the hover van. At one point, he senses them joining him, one of them letting herself fall over his arm while the other crawls in the sleeping bag. His eyelids are too heavy for him to see which one's Lightbulb and which one's Motor, but he can't make himself care in his half asleep state. He pulls the one on his arms closer to blindly kiss her.
"Oh, listen, I wanted to ask you for a favour, dear brother mine."
At least, that's what Hitoshi guesses he signs. The chicken-lizard has dark scales, almost purple, so he can see the resemblance, but he's pretty sure someone else with a shimmery blue tail used that same sound-gesture to refer to Hizashi, so he isn't quite sure.
Hizashi chirps while cocking his head to the side.
"There's been talk of a spaceship that's been - us for days now. The local - aren't doing anything about it. Can you go check it out?"
Do they think Hizashi is part of the space police? Hitoshi squints at them. They're saying it really casually.
"Ah, don't you worry, me and Shouta are going to take care of it. We'll take a look."
Hizashi and Shouta start making their way toward the hover van.
Hitoshi can read in between the lines. 'Taking care' of someone who bothered Hizashi's family isn't good news for their prospective health. "I go with you?" Hitoshi means to make it a statement, but he accidentally kicks his feet and turns into a question.
Hitoshi's heart falls a little when Hizashi signs, bewildered, "Yeah, of course!."
He should have known that he would have to pay for his stay on the ship in some way. He doesn't have money or any valuables apart from what Hizashi's family gave him, and he doesn't possess any other skills that can be used in space. All he's good at is fighting.
He should go without whining and show he's grateful by doing what he's told. The least he can do is help Hizashi and Shouta, make their lives easier after all that they've done for him. It's not like that other place. He knows he'll get healed afterwards.
But Hitoshi is tired of fighting, has been way before he even knew aliens were a possibility. Just the thought of being in the heat of battle makes him nauseous.
Hizashi picks up on his hesitation even through his clothes and face being covered. He stops, tilts his head to the side just like a bird would. "Why do you ask?"
Hitoshi becomes acutely aware of the dozens of eyes following their gestures. They all think Hizashi's acting within the law. Hitoshi swallows around his nervousness.
"I am allowed to go with you when you do hero work?"
Hizashi freezes, eyes twitching. He makes sure to keep his stance relaxed so none of Hizashi's family members suspect anything. Really, he isn't being a coward. He's just helping maintain Hizashi's cover story. He doubts he wants his family to know he's a criminal.
Somewhere on a roof, someone whistles loudly and breaks the silence that befell them. "My hero work, yes!" He chirps nervously, smoothing the feathers on his head. He ruffles his wings to gain his composure back. Both him and Shouta take a more serious expression. "Well, even if it's against regulations, we were planning on leaving right after, so you have to come with us."
Hitoshi blanches at the hidden warning. He knew they were supposed to leave, but he didn't think it was now. He racks his brain, going through every interaction he's had yesterday and today, but he can't remember being told they were going back to the spaceship now. It's destabilizing, it always is when changes come down on him suddenly and without warning, but people don't usually care to warn him only for his comfort. He doesn't need to pack; all his belongings are on the hover van or the spaceship, so there's no use telling him.
Quickly gaining back his bearings, he stumbles over himself to smooth over the conversation. "Okay, I understand. Sorry."
Hizashi pats his ankles approvingly.