Digimon Fan Fiction ❯ Restraint ❯ touch ( Chapter 1 )

Restraint (1) Touch

The boy was for the moment alone, squatting on his haunches in the cool blue shadow of the apartment building. He was watching with some intensity a line of ants as they marched along the ground, oblivious to their scrutinizer. The boy had bright, sharp eyes, intelligent eyes that saw far more than most children his age.

A voice called him. He looked up, in time to see another child round the corner, stop, and stand with his back to the sun.

Osamu smiled.

"What are you doing, Ken?"

"Look, Oniisan," the smaller boy pointed. "Ants!"

"Insects," the older boy's tone was noncommital. He walked over to stand beside his brother and lenaded against the building's cool white wall. The two of them were a silent, still tableau in the oppressive heat of the summer afternoon.

Finally, Osamy broke the silence.

"Ken," he said quietly, "What do you know about power?"

"Huh?" The smaller boy looked up in confusion.

"I've just been...thinking. What do you know about it, about power?"

"Uhm, it's, uh, it's when you can make people do what you want, right?"

"Like if mom won't buy you an ice cream cone and yu can make her do it?"

"Yeah, like that."

"No." Osamu shook his head, and smiled to ease the pain of the correction. "No, it isn't." He slid down the wall and squatted beside his brother. "That's what a lot of people think, but they're wrong. It's not about making others do what you want. That's a very narrow way of looking at the world."

"Oh." Ken returned his gaze to the ants, but his brow was furrowed. He wasn't really looking at the ants anymore.

Suddenly, and without warning, Osamy drew back his hand, palm flat, and slammed it down towards the ground with crushing force. Ken cried out in horror as his brother's hand halted bare centimeters from the line of tiny insects.

"You see that?" Osamu said to the terrified child. "I could kill them all with one motion. A single whim of mine could obliterate countless lives. But I don't do it, Ken. I withdraw my hand." He pulled back, and fixed his brother with a quiet, intense stare.

"This is power, Ken-chan. It is the ability to not cause harm. Even when you can." He paused. "Even when you want to." And he closed his eyes, and smiled.

*~*

Ken closed his eyes and smiled. The breeze was warm and smelled of the dying summer, the heavy perfume of flowers, cut grass and air heated by a copper-bright sun. It caught his hair and gently stirred it around him, tickling his neck, his cheeks, his forehead. Summer breezes were large and heavy, they moved in slow waves, like the ocean, like the waves of an ocean.

"Hey, are you asleep or something?"

He snapped his eyes open. Daisuke was staring down at him, arms crossed. Chibimon perched on his head, eyeing him with the fearless gaze of the terminally cute.

"When did you get here?"

"Right now. You looked pretty comfortable, uhm...."

Ken scooted along the park bench.

"You can sit, if you want." He smiled up at the younger boy.

"Hey, thanks! Listen, I know this is a big deal to you and everything--"

"No, it's okay. Let's not talk about it. I just want to relax and have some fun."

"Did you bring Minomon?"

"Of course!" He held up his bag, which was suspiciously silent. "Uh...."

He looked in the bag, frowned, stuck his arm in up to the elbow and rummaged around, and finally peered deep into the recesses of the bag.

"Wake up!" he shouted.

The bag jerked and quivered, and Daisuke heard muffled complaining. The tiny green creature finally poked its head out and peered blearily at the world.

"Sorry, Ken," he mumbled.

"It's alright. I just wanted to make sure you were still alive." He looked up at Chibimon. "There's plenty of room, if you want to get inside..." The little green digimon gave a yelp of terror a second before Daisuke's companion leapt from his head straight into the proffered bag.

"So, what do you wanna do today?" Daisuke asked, hiding a smile as Ken shoved both Chibimon and Minomon bag inside his bag. The taller boy stuck his tongue out at the complaining creatures and looked up at Daisuke.

"Huh? I don't know." He looked up at the sky. "This is perfect kite-flying weather. Kind of makes me wish I had a kite."

Daisuke blinked. He had never seen Ken as the outdoor-fun type, despite his skill at soccer--the mannerisms of the gentle, serious boy did not conjure up images of frisbee, kites, and grass-stained knees, in Daisuke's mind. Nevertheless, hes wanted to give his friend the opportunity to do something to take his mind off of, well, everything, and since Daisuke was admittadely not an idea person, he latched happily onto Ken's suggestion.

"I have one, I think." He scratched his chin and tried to sound noncholant as he cast about his cluttered memory for the information he needed. "In my room somewhere. If we hurry we can get there and back before the sun starts to go down."

Ken looked at him

"But do you think you can keep up with me?" The boy asked, in a tone so serious it took Daisuke a moment to catch the glint of humor, deeply buried, in Ken's large eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said, subtly tensing his muscles as he prepared to launch into an all-out sprint, "But shouldn't I be the one asking that question?"

Before Ken could respond or even react, Daisuke was off, exploding from a complete standstill into a blur of blue and brown. Ken gave a shout and took off after him, a fraction of a second too late, but it was enough to give Daisuke's soccer-hardened muscles time to put some distance between the two. He hurtled through the park, dodged desperately around children, mothers, dogs, squirrels, water fountains and flower-beds. He heard Ken's feet pounding behind him and grinned to himself. It had been a long time since the two had done anything but work together, and Daisuke couldn't deny his competetive nature, at least to himself. It was nice to think he might be able to beat Ken at something, just once, even if it was a totally insignificant something.

His blood pounded through his body as the two raced through the neighborhood. Daisuke finally thought he understood the phrase "hot on your heels" as he felt Ken gaining on him gradually. The other boy was taller, lankier, and his long legs gave him an advantage in a long-distance dash that Daisuke could never hope to match with sheer stamina. He was losing ground....

But no! There was the apartment building up ahead! Just as he could feel Ken behind him, could hear his breath and the thud of every footfall, just as the boy began to slip into the peripheral field of his vision, Daisuke put on a fresh burst of speed and pelted toward the destination, the sanctuary, the final resting place of weary salarymen, children, and office ladies.

He dashed up close to the building and, unable to slow his momentum, slapped the wall hard and swerved, jogging to a halt. Behind him, he heard Ken do the same. The two boys were momentarily robbed of their ability to speak, near to collapsing and momentarily exhausted. Daisuke leaned over and clutched his kness, Ken simply collapsed to the ground, hugging his bag tightly. There was a muffled complaint from within.

"Wa-water," Ken gasped, after a moment. Daisuke swallowed hard, and nodded.

"Come...on," he panted, reaching out to take the boy's hand and helping him to his feet.

They didn't even think about taking the stairs, and by the time the elevator reached Daisuke's floor the two were almost coherent again. The staggered out into the hallway, made a brief attempt to smooth themselves into presentabilty (briefer on Daisuke's part) and headed for the apartment.

"Is your family home?" Ken asked, as Daisuke fumbled with the key.

"Not sure. Dad's still at work, I think, and Jun's probably out somewhere. Mom might be cooking or something..."

"Just curious."

The apartment smelled of a garlicky, spicy sauce. Ken's nostrils flared as they entered and stood in the genkan, removing their shoes.

"My mom never cooked like that."

"Yeah?"

"Her cooking's kind of, you know, bland," Ken made a face, but there was no malice behind it. "It's better than starving to death, I guess."

"She's not here, though," Daisuke said, trotting into the apartment in his sock feet. Ken took a second to reorient himself in the conversation--of course his mother wasn't home, but Daisuke was referring to his own.

Daisuke rummaged a bit in the kitchen.

"She's out." He held up a small note. "Meeting Dad somewhere. She left me supper, though. Want some?"

Ken's mouth watered. He didn't even know what it was, and he wanted some.

"Do we have time?"

"Sure, a few minutes. Longer than we get at lunch, anyway. It's not even five thirty yet."

Daisuke happily served the two up a heaping plate of rice and vegetables in whatever the divine sauce was his mother had used. He also provided two bowls for the digimon, who Ken sheepishly released, almost having forgotten about them in the dash to the apartment building. They glared at him for a moment, until he apoligized, then turned their attention to the pending food.

Ken noted to himself how comfortable Daisuke was at getting his own dinner, even if the major procedure involved popping the food in the microwave.

"You're lucky," he told the boy, while they waited for the second plate to heat.

"Hm?" Daisuke looked up at him--he seemed to have been lost in thought.

"Not having your parents home all the time. Hovering."

The other boy shrugged.

"I guess."

Ken did not pursue the topic.

They ate standing in the kitchen, as fast as the steaming-hot food would allow, and it was, as Ken had predicted, delicious. Certainly a far cry from anything his mother, bless her soul, had ever made. He practially inhaled the meal.

"I didn't know you could eat like that!" Daisuke laughed. Ken scowled. The younger boy had beaten his own time by a good thirty seconds.

"Do you want me to do the dishes?

"What? Why?"

"Don't you have a kite to look for?"

"Oh yeah. Yeah!" chopsticks dangling from his mouth and apparently, forgotten, Daisuke slammed the plate on the counter and dashed back into his room. Ken heard the sound of crashing and scrabbling shortly thereafter.

Smiling to himself, the tall boy hunted around the kitchen and unearthed the soap and a sponge. He busied himself at the sink while muffled cursing emanated from the hallway. Ken was just rinsing the last plate when Daisuke practically exploded from the hallway, trailing a disassembled kite, string and bits and peices of other things he'd apparently picked up in his room.

"Nice," Ken said with a smirk. "You look like you got caught in the Typhoon of Trash."

"No smart comments from you, please," Daisuke said coolly, plucking a wadded up bubble-gum wrapper from his hair. "Are you almost done, homemaker Ken?"

"Yes, and I just did your dishes, so you'd better be nice to me."

Daisuke ignored him, instead glancing out the window at the sky. Evening was just starting to settle over the land, making the shadows longer and the sky a richer, more intense shade of blue.

"Let's get out of here before it's too late."

*~*

Ken-chan sat quietly in the dark room, all alone. He stared blankly at his small hands.

"Ken?" Osamu opened the door, briefly letting the light from the living room spill in. The smaller boy squinted.

"Ken, what's wrong? What are you doing here in the dark?"

"I'm sorry, Oniisan. I know it's your party. I didn't want to be in the way."

Osamu entered the room and knelt down beside his brother. He put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Mom told you that," he said. It was not a question.

"She said stay out of the way, so I came in here."

"Ken, listen," the older boy stood up and drew his brother into an embrace. He rested his chin on the smaller boy's head.

"You're not going to be in the way. No matter what anybody says."

Ken sighed and buried his face against his brother's shirt. Osamu stroked his hair.

"Say it, Ken."

"Oniisan loves me." The boy said the words slowly, softly, like a mantra that could protect him from the outside world. The slower he spoke, the longer he could stay in this place, in a dark room, wrapped in his brother's embrace, protected from the outside world. He hugged his brother tighter. "Oniisan's the only one. Nobody loves me but Oniisan."

"That's right, Ken-chan," Osamu said quietly. "No one."

*~*

The kite was a staggering success. After they managed to assemble the thing, Ken was amazed to see that it was deceptively large--six feet from wing-tip to wing-tip. Daisuke had no trouble getting it aloft, it caught the wind and practically leapt into the sky, spinning the string so fast it nearly flew out of the boy's hands. Ken was forced to come to his rescue, and the two of them fought together to keep the thing from spinning wildly out of control. Daisuke was reminded all over again of Ken's deceptive physical appearance. Although in many ways he was a fragile child, physically he was stronger than most of the other Digidestined his own age. The instant his hands closed over kite string, the pull of the wind decreased drastically in Daisuke's muscles. The kite flopped and wobbled dramatically, but it ceased the tailspin it had been engaged in moments before and leveled out into something a little more respectable.

Daisuke had never seen Ken so happy. He laughed aloud as the kite danced and spun wildly, as the wind tried to rip it out of their hands, as the two friends worked together to win against an enemy that was, for a change, not threatening their lives in any way.

"Ken needs a friend," Hikari-chan had said, "Now more than ever. With nothing to fight, nothing to concentrate on, he has nothing to look at but himself and his guilt and pain. Nothing to stand between him and the abyss inside. You could help him so much by just spending time with him, being there for him, forcing him not to be alone."

It seemed the child of light had been correct. Maybe Ken would never be outgoing or totally self-assured, like Miyako or himself. But Daisuke was seeing the side of him that he suspected even Ken himself didn't know that he had. It made him feel warm inside, made him feel...needed.

After well over an hour of running through the park, they finally reeled the kite in and made short work of disassembling it.Daisuke watched Ken's fingers at work--long, thin and deft, it seemed there was nothing they couldn't do. Like their owner, almost. He looked at Ken, bent over and intent on his task, dark hair spilling around his face and occaisionally streaming out around him as the wind caught and stirred the heavy strands.

Daisuke loved Hikari. He loved her because she was beautiful, and kind, and absolutely selfless. But really, wasn't Ken a lot like her? He was beautiful, certainly, and kind, and giving of himself to a fault. He did nice things for people, like offering to do the dishes, simply because it made him happy to do so, not because he wanted to impress people with his generosity of spirit.

Daisuke flopped back into the grass with his hands behind his head. Yeah, Ken was beautiful, and what's more he liked Daisuke. He spent time with him and never talked down to him, never made him feel unwanted, never acted like he was in the way. Daisuke knew, he knew, that the other boy actually enjoyed his company, actually liked having him around. He listened to what Daisuke had to say with tangible respect, as though the words coming out of his mouth were important, and not the sort of gibberish usually associated with an infant of two.

"Why so quiet?"

Ken plopped down beside him, kite in his lap, and grinned down at Daisuke. He smiled up at his friend, and shrugged, a difficult gesture from his prone posture.

"Just enjoying the peace and quiet. After everything that's happened, it's nice to just sit and do nothing for a while."

Ken's smile broadened.

"I agree. So, why don't you just scoot over," he nudged Daisuke, gently but firmly, "and let me join you in that comfortable spot on the ground."

Daisuke felt his heart speed up a little as Ken made himself comfortable beside him. The presence of the other made his skin feel almost uncomfortably warm, and the sensation of his heart beating faster than normal made him momentarily lightheaded. He didn't know what to make of these odd sensations--he'd felt this way before, with Hikari, but never before with Ken. Sure, he liked being around the other boy, but, somewhere along the line, it seemed something had changed.

He looked over at Ken. The other boy had his eyes closed and lips parted slightly, and Daisuke couldn't remember having ever seen his friend looking so completely at peace with the world.

You were right, Hikari, Daisuke thought, He did need someone to spend time with him.

"Ken?" He surprised himself by speaking. His voice was so soft it almost disappeared into the heavy summer air.

"Hmm?"

"Do you ever feel lonely?"

His question was greeted with silence. Daisuke cringed at his own stupidity. So much for making Ken forget about his problems.

But an answer came back, in the same tiny voice Daisuke had used.

"Sometimes. For my brother...or sometimes, just for someone to talk to...."

"I think," Daisuke swallowed. Ken wasn't the type to go sharing his deep personal feelings with anyone, and this confession of lonliness was the closest thing Daisuke had got from him in a long time that bordered on the private.

Ken propped himself up and looked down at his friend. The sun was to his back and it turned his eyes into large dark holes.

"I think," Daisuke began again, "I'd like to spend more time with you. Now, before it's too late."

Too late for what? Ken wondered. What was Daisuke saying? He'd never heard the carefree boy say anything with the level of seriousness and gravity he was using now. He looked into the dark brown eyes, turned toward him and reflecting the brilliant orange of the setting sun. He bit his lip and looked away, suddenly afraid of what he felt when he looked at those eyes.

"Daisuke," he began softly.

"Oh man!" Daisuke interrupted suddenly, loudly. He leapt to his feet and snatched the kite out of Ken's unresisting hands, so taken aback was the darker boy that he couldn't have reacted even if he'd wanted to.

"What--" he began.

"I forgot they close the park at seven! We'd better get out of here before they lock the gates!"

This was a totally unexpected turn in the converstion.

"Daisuke..." Ken tried, to no avail.

"Come on!" Daisuke grabbed his wrist and pulled, dragging him in the direction of the entrance. Ken stared at him in shock, even as he allowed himself to be hauled across the park. Gone was the expression of gravity he had seen on the other boy's face mere moments before; it had been replaced by the more familiar cheerful grin and sparkling eyes. It was as though a wall had slammed down, concealing something rare and precious behind a glittering facade.

There was no talking to Daisuke for several minutes. He seemed totally intent on filling the air with inane chatter about absolutely irrelevant things, things even he would not normally have stooped to talking about. Ken bit the inside of his cheek in impatience, but bided his time. If there was anything he had learned during his breif stint in villainy, it was patience. The day would never come when Daisuke would bore him into submission.

They reached the apartment and found it still empty. The digimon were there, waiting--Ken had left them behind to sleep, fearing they would be injured running through the park. If it hadn't been for the two loyal and cheerful creatures waiting for them in the living room, the apartment would have felt much colder and darker.

As it was, Ken stood in the genkan reflecting on the more or less silent apartment. He had long ago tuned out Daisuke's chatter, and now he could hear the echoing hollowness of the space around him, louder than any human voice.

"Is it always this quiet in here?" He asked, and instantly regretted it.

He said it without thinking. He said it out of irritation at Daisuke's refusal to attempt to carry on a serious conversation, or even allow him to speak. He said it to shut the other boy up.

Daisuke shut up. He looked at Ken, and the expression that flashed across his face was one that was both new and familiar. Ken felt a brief surge of triumph--he had managed to crack through the mask, however briefly, and get a look at the person inside. The action would have it's consequences, though, consequences Ken wasn't sure he wanted to deal with.

"It's not always this quiet. It's just, no one's here right now, uhm..." He looked up at Ken almost pleadingly.

For the first time in a long time, Ken force himself to act cheerful.

Reaching out, he gently lifted the folded-up kite out of his friend's grasp. He smiled at the other boy, and Minamon, perched on his shoulder, somehow managed to convey the impression of a smile as well.

"Come on," Ken said, "Why don't you show me where you keep this thing."

Daisuke's room was, as predicted, a war zone. Ken had never seen so much chaos packed into so small a space. His own room, of course, was painfully clean, stripped of any evidence of childhood whatsoever--even the books were arranged neatly on the desk in rigid submission to his organized mind.

Daisuke's room had books. It also had clothes, and food, and dishes and discarded wrappers and tapes and CDs and empty boxes and sports equipment and a few other random bits of things Ken couldn't even identify. He stood, frozen in the doorway, afraid to even set foot in the room for fear of treading on something that would require his getting a tetanus shot.

He was shoved roughly from behind.

"C'mon, you're holdin' up the line," Daisuke grumbled. Ken half-walked, half-stumbled into the no-man's-land, and managed to find two empty peices of floor where he could put his feet. He watched as his friend picked his way confidently through the mess, with the ease of long familiariaty.

"Where do you want this?" Ken held up the kite, glancing around hopelessly.

"Well, it goes under the bed..." Daisuke deflty plucked the kite back out of Ken's hands. "Here." Ken watched him crawl under the bed without so much as kneeling on a single toy. and emerge triumphant with a thick cloud of dust hanging over his head.

"Uh, Daisuke-kun, you might want to," he waved a hand vaguely.

Daisuke sneezed.

"Uhm, Daisuke? What did you mean, before, when you said you wanted to spend time with me before it's too late?"

The other boy paused in the act of brushing his hair from grey to brown, and looked up. He bit his lip, a gesture Ken had never seen him use before.

"Oh," Daisuke tried to give his characteristic grin, met Ken's eyes, and failed. He looked down at his feet.

"I just meant, I mean," he shuffled his feet. Ken's heart went out to his friend, he was beginning to understand how difficult it was for him to shed his mask of cheerful indifference, even for a few minutes.

"We're eleven, now," he went on. "In a few years we'll be teenagers. We'll go to high school, and the whole team will be split up." He sighed heavily, reached up to scratch the back of his head. "After that, it's college, and you'll go off to some big expensive university and I'll be stuck here in Odaiba all alone."

He sank down on the bed, still staring at his feet. Ken closed his eyes as understanding dawned.

"Then you'll graduate and be some rich and famous software designer, and what will I be? I'll be lucky if I can even get in to college! I don't care what happens to me, I don't need to be rich, I just don't want to be left alone." He buried his face in his hands.

Daisuke squeezed his eyes shut, forcing back the hot tears that threatened to spill out of his eyes.

The bed creaked and sank a little as someone sat down beside him. Ken put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Daisuke." With his other hand he carefully took hold of Daisuke's own and held them firmly down so that he could look at his face. Daisuke found himself staring deep into the dark, sad eyes of the Child of Kindness.

"Daisuke, no matter what happens, we'll always be best friends. I'll never leave you alone, no matter what. You have to believe me." He swallowed. "I need for you to believe me." He removed his hands and shifted so that he was ever so slightly closer to Daisuke.

"Please don't be sad." Ken gave his friend the kind of smile that was designed to cheer him up, but on the darker boy there was something inexpressibly painful about it, as though he was himself on the verge of tears.

On impulse, moved by the same tendency to act first and think later that had got him into so much trouble in the past, Daisuke leaned forward, in towards Ken, much closer than the physical proximity normally considered acceptable for two friends. Either Ken didn't notice, or he didn't mind, because he held his own position and did not retreat.

"Ken," Dasisuke said softly, "I think maybe I believe you..."

Before the other boy could react, Daisuke leaned forward slightly, closed the gap between them, and pressed his lips to Ken's. It was a child's kiss, hesitant and soft, and there was nothing particularly ardent or passionate about it. He had imagined himself doing this with Hikari countless times, and it was almost as if his body took over on its own, letting him lean into the kiss, close his eyes, and savor the sensation of touching another human being.For a brief instant Daisuke could close his eyes, and pretend he was somewhere else, somwhere far away from his life, himself, and his hopeless future.

But Daisuke never got a chance to do more than that, for at that moment he found out just how much stronger than him Ken really was. He felt two hands connect with his shoulders, an instant before he was shoved backwards with terrific force. Daisuke crashed off the bed to the floor, barely avoiding bruising his spine. The world flashed white, then black, and he blinked and shook his head roughly to clear it. Then he was looking up bemusedly at Ken, eyes wide. What did I do so wrong? he wondered.

Ken was staring at him with the most wild-eyed expression of terror Daisuke had ever seen. He reached up and scrubbed his lips violently with the back of his hand, eyes never leaving the boy on the floor, though Daisuke was hardly in a position to do anything but rub his backside.

"Ken--" he tried, but the other boy cut him off.

"Don't ever," he bit out viciously, "Ever touch me again." And so sayng, he backed away, eyes fixed on Daisuke, picked up his bag, turned, and fled.

Daisuke was up then, running to the door.

"Ken, wait, stop, Ken!"

He reached the door far too late, and stopped in the genkan, one hand on the doorknob. Ken had not even closed the door behind him.

He ran. He ran and didn't stop until he was at the train station, and then he ran from the station to his apartment and up the stairs and down the hallway. It wasn't like before, in the park, running for the sheer joy of it. This time he ran with an intense focus, his mouth set in a grim line, holding onto the tears that ached in his throat. The wind that streamed around him burned against his skin and the oppresive, heavy sky made his ears ring. A storm was coming, and occaisionally lightning flashed across a dry sky.

He slammed the door open, startling his mother, who nearly dropped the dishes she was drying in shock. She greeted him with a smile and somehow Ken managed to dredge one up out of the depths of his soul, though for the life of him he coulnd't imagnine how he'd done it.

"How was Daisuke's?" his Mama asked. Ken stammered, his lips were frozen, he couldn't speak. But he had to, he had to, not answering would only cause the woman to ask painful questions he could hardly begin to answer.

"Fine, Mama," he rasped, "It was fine."

He retreated into his room complaining about the late hour, before she could attempt to engage him in conversation. Lights from outside were shining through the windows, and Ken stalked across the room to the large glass doors and yanked the blinds down, plunging the room into darkness. He could feel his shoulders shaking with unshed tears. He realized his fists were clenched and with sheer will he forced them o relax. The strap of the bag in his right hand slipped, and the bag, and Minamon, dropped to the floor.

"Ken?" The tiny creature crawled out of the bag and blinked, trying to see in the oppressive blackness. "Ken, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, Minamon," the boy murmured. Minamon heard him cross the room, and a moment later the desk light clicked on, shedding a warm yellow light across the desk and floor, but turning the rest of the room into a nightmare of half-shadows. Minamon watched the Child of Kindness slowly reach out and lift his brother's photograph from the desk. He stood there by the desk clutching his brother's picture as though it were the only thing left in the world he could hold on to. As the tiny digimon watched, tears ran down his human's face and splashed on the frame and glass. And Ken collapsed, slowly, to the ground, sitting on his heels and lutching the picture to his chest, hugging it as though it were the real thing, as though he could somehow, through the intensity of his grip, force life from the two-dimensional image, as though he could reach back through time and grasp hold of his brother, and cling to him in the half-lit space of the room.

"I'm sorry, Osuamu," he whispered, tears sliding down his cheeks and splattering all over his brother's image, "Osamu, I'm sorry...I'm so sorry...."

*~*

"Niichan, it hurts...."

"Shut up."