Familiarity

Chapter Twenty-Five

yep, im already posting this chapter, HOWEVER, this means that its gonna be a bit (im gonna try for less than a week or two but im literally moving in two weeks--my mom just texted me) until i post chap 26. i think I'm around halfway done but im not too sure how i feel about a certain part of it so...

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It wasn't gradual, and neither was noticeable to most, but something told you that your brother was changing.

He was staring blankly at the wall, his lips curled to each other and his eyes wide and unblinking. He was in the kitchen sitting beside you, his bowl of soup untouched and cooling by the second.

You hadn't touched your food either, and Gran had even refused to have any when Mitsuki offered. You knew eating would be hard, especially now. But you hadn't expected to touch your brother's shoulder and watch him flinch like he had been burned. You hadn't expected him to turn to face you, after having a physical reaction like that, and carry a blank face with him.

"What?" he asked, blinking once within the long seconds that passed as you watched him carefully. "What?" he asked again, his tone harsher.

"Are you okay?" you asked him, knowing how simple it was and yet how easily it broke down walls. You felt bad for trying to shatter his exterior on purpose, but this sudden change worried you. It reminded you of yourself, back when you were a little older than him but just as vulnerable. Maybe there was nothing to worry about. Maybe this behavior was only born to die within a few hours. But it wouldn't be worth acting like your mother: swearing you cared, but never asking him if he was okay when he needed it most.

Maybe you were too late.

You wouldn't know until things changed again, and sometimes, things never did. You certainly haven't. Not really.

He stared back down at the untouched bowl. "I'm fine," he said.

"Is there anything else you want to eat?" you asked. "I'm sure Mitsuki won't mind if you eat a snack."

He continued to stare. "I'm not hungry."

"You haven't eaten since breakfast," you said, leaning down to see his downcast face. "It's four, buddy—almost dinner." You kept your voice light, reassuring. "And we've been here since—around lunch-time, so—"

"I'm not hungry," he interrupted. "I don't want anything."

You glanced at the kitchen where Mitsuki watched you from the counter that split the kitchen from the dining room. Her expression was unreadable.

You retracted your hand from his back to his shoulder, pinching it gently. "Maybe you can try to get some crackers in your belly. You might feel sick if you don't eat regularly."

"No," he yelled.

"Buddy," you said, your voice so soft it was nearly in a whisper, "you'll feel sick if you don't get something in your belly. Could you, maybe, drink some apple juice?"

He said nothing.

"I got a lot of apple juice," Mitsuki superficially chirped, grabbing a juice box from the fridge and putting it on display in the middle of the counter. "You want some kiddo?"

"I can get it for you?" you told him. "If you want me to?"

"Why do you care if I have apple juice?" he asked, pouting.

"What do you mean?" you asked, leaning down in an attempt to meet his eyes again. "I care about you buddy. I'm just making sure you're okay."

"If you care so much, why do you leave me and go to school?" he yelled, angry, almost impenetrable. But his voice wobbled, and he was weak again. "Why are you letting them hurt my family?"