Chapter Text
Watch TV?
Eh, there’s never anything good on this time of day… Or ever.
A movie?
No, those are always way too long.
Play a video game?
He could… but all of the ones that he hasn’t played to death lately are no fun by himself.
It’s official then: he has absolutely nothing to do.
Hiroki lets out a long, exaggerated sigh as he flops back onto the couch. This is the worst thing that could possibly happen to him today—and on a Saturday of all days! He can’t even bug mom or dad like he normally would: she’s out running some errands, and he got called into work for some stupid ‘emergency meeting’ or the like (he didn’t seem too happy about it either at least, muttering some words under his breath as he got ready that would get Hiroki in big trouble if he ever tried to repeat them in front of his parents). Neither will be back for hours. Leaving him to fend off his boredom by himself.
Maybe he could’ve had a backup plan for that dilemma if he could at least call Johnny and see what he’s up to. But noooo, according to his parents he’s ‘not responsible enough’ to have a cell phone yet.
(Seriously, you lose track of a Gameboy a few times…)
Truly a tragic situation all around.
He blinks up at the ceiling, staring listlessly at it. There’s a strangely splotchy texture to it throughout the entire house, like someone took a paintbrush and carelessly flicked raised splashes and specks across the whole thing. When he was younger he found that if he unfocused his eyes in just the right way he could find weird patterns scattered throughout it—like the armless guy skateboarding up a mountain right above his bed, or the weird set of stubby vampire fangs between his and Yumi’s bedrooms. It was like the world’s loneliest game of Pictionary. Sometimes he’d even imagine that they were moving across the walls, mingling with other shapes and going on adventures that were equally as weird as they all looked. He hasn’t done it in ages, and he’s never looked that closely in here before (usually because he’s had something else to do). Maybe that’ll be interesting enough for now.
…
…
…
It’s not.
He groans and throws an arm across his face in exasperation. Why do things always have to be so boring around here? Every day it’s the same few things over and over and over again.
Why can’t something exciting happen to him for once in his life?
He sighs. Maybe he should just take a nap or something…
A door abruptly slams open. Hiroki startles upright with a squeak of surprise; the cushion bounces a little underneath him at the sudden shift in weight. On instinct he whips his head around toward the front door.
It’s still shut up tight, no mom or dad in sight.
And if it didn’t come from there…
Familiar thudding boot steps start racing across the floor from above him. Hiroki jumps to his feet, only slightly tripping on his first couple steps, and rushes toward the hallway in his own sprint. He gets there just in time to find Yumi running down the stairs. She freezes at the sight of him. He can practically hear the wooden rail wheezing from the white knuckled iron grip she has it in.
She’s trying to sneak out again.
He smirks. It’s not exactly an out of the ordinary situation, but he’ll take it.
After all, there’s no better pass time than annoying your older sister, right?
“Well well well, what do we have here?” He asks, putting on his best ‘annoying little brother’ voice—a dash of fake innocence blended together with just the right amount of know-it-all condescension he knows works on her all too well—as he grins knowingly at her. “You weren’t about to run out of here and leave your poor, defenseless little brother here all by himself, were you?”
The effect on her is immediate. Her eyes, which had been flickering away from him, narrow, and her mouth presses into a thin, irritated line that only makes his own smile wider. It really never gets old. “You and I both know you're old enough to be fine at home by yourself for a few hours.”
Well. She’s not wrong. But…
“Take it up with mom and dad,” he tells her with a shrug. He’s been fighting that fight for ages now. Honestly, he’d appreciate the help. She doesn’t respond to that though, just lets out a huff and stomps past him so fast he almost doesn’t move in time to stay ahead of her. Why does she have to have such long legs?
He cuts her off again just a few feet from the front door, shoving an arm out against the nearby table to completely block her path. “Hey! Where do you think you’re going?”
“Out. Now move.” She reaches for his shoulder.
He sways back and digs his heels further into the floor just in case. “Why should I?”
“Hiroki…” Yumi pinches the bridge of her nose with an annoyed huff. “I don’t have time for your games right now. I need to go-”
“To do what?” He asks. His eyes light up at a thought. “Is it Ulrich?”
“I– what?”
“You’re going to go make out with Ulrich, aren’t you?” He feels his impish grin returning at the realization.
Yumi stiffens straight as a rod. “That is so…! We aren’t even… That has nothing to do with any of what–” Her face turns a bright shade of red as she blusters and stumbles over her words. Finally, she shakes her head and looks at him with a spicy glare. “Ulrich and I are just good friends and that’s all, you got that!?”
That look on her face is probably supposed to be intimidating, but having lived with her his whole life, he’s mostly immune. The way her voice jumped in pitch isn’t helping her case either.
“Suuuure,” Hiroki rolls his eyes. “Keep telling yourself that.” Whatever helps her sleep at night.
She grumbles something under her breath—he only really manages to catch the word ‘brat’ in it all. It’s a struggle not to grin at her again. She tries to take a step past him. He doesn’t budge. “Are you gonna move?” she asks impatiently.
“Are you gonna tell me where you’re going?”
“That’s none of your business.”
He shrugs. “Then no.”
“Hiroki…!” She hisses out, then stops. She takes in a deep breath; he can practically see her mentally counting to ten before she tries again. “You have to let me leave. It’s an emergency.”
He perks up at that detail. That’s a new one. “What kind of emergency?”
“It’s a er… computer emergency,” she answers, voice tight and awkward. Her gaze shifts off towards some of the decorations hanging on the wall when he raises an eyebrow at her.
“'A computer emergency?'” He echoes. That might be the worst lie he’s ever heard her tell—and he's heard a lot of them. “What, is Jeremy’s laptop gonna blow up or something? You’re terrible with computers. How are you gonna help?”
“That’s…” If the sentence is supposed to go anywhere from there, it doesn’t, instead just hanging in the air by itself until her mouth shuts with an audible click of her teeth. “Ugh… why do you care anyway?” she quickly pivots.
He taps a thoughtful finger against his chin as he lets out a hum. “Maybe I just wanna know what you’re doing for once.”
How can he not? Constantly tip-toeing around, skipping class, hanging out with a (cool) group of friends and whispering about weird stuff and disappearing for hours to places only they know about. Their parents are always complaining about him not understanding the rules of the house, but Yumi’s the one constantly breaking them. It’d be nice to know what she thinks is so important for once.
Although…
“If you really don’t wanna tell me though, maybe we can negotiate something,” he offers, smirk returning. It’d be nice not to have to work on the chemistry packet Ms. Hertz just handed out after all.
Yumi’s expression goes flat at the suggestion. “No,” she says firmly. “We’re not doing this today.”
Before he can even think to respond, there’s a hand to his chest shoving him back from the table and out of her way. He hits the wall behind him with a loud thud and grunts. He winces when he puts a hand to his side; that’s definitely going to bruise a bit. Maybe she’s off constantly practicing martial arts, because he doesn’t remember her being this strong all the time.
The fact that she’s so much taller and stronger apparently is just so unfair.
“If you leave I’m telling mom and dad!” He calls to her just before she can reach the door. “I’ll tell them about all the times I’ve seen you sneak out after dark too!”
That gets her attention. Her hand freezes just a few inches from the knob and clenches into a tight fist. She whirls around on her heel, teeth flashing. “Hiroki, don’t you-”
The front door flies open. Both of them startle at the sound and, forgetting their quarrel for just a moment, share a confused look with one another. When they look over at the entrance, they find their dad standing there. Hiroki squints; the outside light shining on him is bright, and it takes a moment for his eyes to adjust. When he finally gets a chance to see his dad proper, he looks a little strange; his posture is hunched over in a way Hiroki never sees from him when he’s not lounging around, and the dark tie Hiroki watched him put on just hours earlier looks crooked the way it’s draped across his chest.
Huh. Must’ve been a rough day at the office.
“Dad! You’re back!” Yumi’s voice startles him out of his head. “I was just-”
“Yumi was trying to sneak out and leave me by myself!” Hiroki quickly cuts her off. She sucks in a sharp breath, and he hears her let out a huff he knows is pointed toward him. He sticks the tip of his tongue out in return.
Dad, for his part, gives Hiroki a blank stare. The glare from the sun on his glasses makes it hard to see his eyes. For a moment, Hiroki wonders if he even heard him, but then Dad starts walking toward Yumi in a stiff legged gait.
She places her hands out placatingly in front of her. “I-it’s not as bad as it sounds, I promise! My friends need me for something really important at school and I-” She cuts herself off with a surprised gasp when Dad wraps his own hand around her wrists. Tightly.
And then he starts dragging her towards the living room in spite of her vocal protests.
Hiroki’s grin drops. This is a lot less fun than he’d been imagining it’d be.
He quickly scrambles after them, watching as Yumi gets tugged toward the center of the room. She’s pulling desperately, but for as strong he now knows she is, she can’t get free.
Hiroki bites his lip. “Hey, maybe lay off her a little. I mean, it’s not like she actually left me alone…” he trails off with an awkward laugh. "S-she said she'd only be gone for a little bit. I'd have been fine. Honest!" Dad doesn’t respond to him. Instead, he pulls Yumi’s arms up above her with just one hand until her feet aren’t even touching the floor anymore.
“Dad, stop! That hurts!” Yumi cries out. For all her thrashing she can’t get loose. She looks past Dad’s shoulder and directly at Hiroki. Her eyes are bright with a silent plea for help. He feels something drop in his chest at the look of terror etched on her face.
This isn’t like Dad at all.
Something is wrong.
Very, very wrong.
“Dad! Stop!” Hiroki runs forward and yanks on the arm holding Yumi with all his might. To his surprise, it actually works. Dad lets out a surprised grunt and drops her. The moment she lands she bolts away from him. Hiroki doesn’t get a chance to see where though, because now Dad’s attention is entirely on him instead.
Dad whirls around in an instant. Rough hands grab at the fabric of his yellow shirt and pull him up close to his face. Hiroki shrieks. Dad’s expression, normally so calm and composed and jovial, now looks anything but. His teeth are bared in an angry, white snarl that looks so incredibly wrong on his face. But the worst part is his eyes. They’re wild and unfocused, yet seem to pierce directly through him.
Something flashes in them, and the next time Dad blinks, a strange bullseye symbol stares back at him instead of pupils.
Dad suddenly lets out a pained pant. In an instant, Hiroki finds himself falling back onto the floor. The TV remote, which had been laying on the couch last he saw, now lays by his dad’s feet. Dad’s form flickers into a transparent static in front of him, and when he looks past it, he sees Yumi standing there with her hand still outstretched.
“We can’t stay here! Come on!” Hiroki’s barely to his feet when Yumi grabs hold of his hand and leads them both to the door. They dash through without bothering to shut it behind them and race down the street as fast as their legs will carry them.
The whole time, Yumi never lets go of his hand.
For once, he doesn’t complain.