ઇଓ 𝐏𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 [𝕆𝕤𝕒𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕒]

𝔑𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔪

𝐓𝐖: 𝐒𝐮𝐛𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞

ઇଓ

Osamu had seen a lot of shit in his life.

A lot.

He saw more than his brother—no, he made sure his brother would never see as much as he did.

They were born on the same day but he came out first.

He had to take care of Atsumu.

And he did.

For eighteen years.

So when he came home to the sight of Atsumu shooting up while he sat on the hardwood floor, he had never been more disappointed in himself.

Osamu stared at his twin. Atsumu dropped the strip of fabric he had been holding between his teeth, revealing a circular bruise mark around his bicep. His neck and chest were littered with dark marks and scrapes. His hand gripped the needle and his eyes seemed exhausted.

"Shit..." he mumbled, looking away from Osamu. Osamu dropped his bag and gaped.

"Fuck—what the fuck are ya doin'?!" He asked worriedly. He rushed over and cupped Atsumu's face, tilting his head from side to side and lifting his lids, staring t his pupils. "What are ya on?!" Osamu interrogated. Atsumu didn't answer. "'Tsumu I swear ta fuckin' god-!"

"Dope," he responded softly. Osamu inhaled sharply, his brow furrowing as he sat back on his knees.

"Shit... heroin?" He whispered. Atsumu was quiet. Osamu ran his fingers through his hair and grabbed the bag. "Ya can't do this shit!" Osamu declared, making Atsumu recoil. "Weed is fine but shit... this?!" He shook the bag in front of Atsumu's face. "This fucks y'up bad! And y'know that!" Atsumu didn't reply or meet his brother's eyes. Osamu sighed and rubbed his face.

"We have to get rid'o'it," claimed Osamu. Atsumu's head shot up. "Don'gimme that look. Cops come by and we have this shit lyin'roun' we're gonna go into the system, or worse, jail." Atsumu dropped his head again and nodded. "Is this from ma's stash?"Again, he nodded.

Osamu chewed the inside of his cheek.

"Fuck... okay. Okay." Osamu pinched the bridge of his nose and faced his brother.

He had only just noticed the scars on the bend of his elbow.

"How long have ya been doin' this?" Osamu questioned. Atsumu bit his lip.

"'Bout'ta month," Atsumu mumbled.

"Shit!" Osamu stage-whispered.

"'M sorry..." Atsumu's voice was soft. Sincere.

Osamu slouched over and ruffled his brother's hair.

"Don' do it again, please," Osamu murmured, kissing the top of his brother's head. Atsumu nodded, picking at his cuticles and staring into his lap. "Hey," Osamu said, cupped his brother's cheeks. "I love ya, dumbass. Ya know that?"

Atsumu nodded again. Osamu pecked his forehead then pushed himself up.

"I'm gonna go get rid of this. Si'down on the couch and sober up. I'll get ya some water," Osamu hummed. He helped Atsumu up and led him to the sofa, watching him plop onto the cushions.

He walked into the kitchen and grabbed a glass from the sink, then opened the fridge and pulled out a large plastic bottle of water. Unscrewing the cap, he filled up the glass them put the bottle back inside, shutting the fridge with his foot. He handed Atsumu the glass then walked down the hall, sliding the door to his mother's bedroom open.