Everchanging

Bravery

!!TW!! Talk of SA/Hypersexual coping mechanisms, panic attack, fainting, alcoholism, child abuse

Sanemi stared at his phone, waiting for Genya to be done getting ready. He looked at the photo lighting up his screen. He was seventeen, face tight with an obviously forced smile and a diploma in hand. The picture was a little shaky, hordes of people surrounded Sanemi. But he couldn't help but smile, a bittersweet feeling nipping at his heels.

He hated this photo because it was the day he left everyone. But he also loved the photo because Genya took it. The boy always avoided taking photos, his hands perpetually shaky. But that day, Genya had eagerly snapped a picture of Sanemi and his diploma. And even if the memory stung a little, it meant the world to Sanemi now.

"Nemi, I'm ready." His brother leaned into his eyesight, dressed and ready. Sanemi nodded, sighing, he knew today was going to be a rough day. They had gotten the call saying that Genya's gun was finally able to be picked up. To be entirely honest, Sanemi had tried to convince Genya to stay home, not wanting the boy to come.

But Genya had practically begged to accompany his older brother. Promising he could handle it. Insisting that it wasn't that big of a deal to him, just another errand. And both brothers knew that Genya was lying through his teeth but Sanemi didn't have the heart to leave his brother again. Not after what he found out at the apartment.

Since then, it was like Sanemi couldn't keep a close enough eye on the boy. Even when they were feet apart, Sanemi couldn't crush the feeling that if he blinked long enough Genya would disappear before his eyes. He found himself wondering how much he didn't know about Genya. How many times did that bitch touch him? Where? How far did it go? Did father know?

But Sanemi knew that he didn't have the right to dig into this. At least not now. Not when Genya was still struggling to adapt to his new life. So Sanemi was forced to swallow every word and every vile feeling. The only solace was that Sanemi wasn't the only person to know. He wasn't alone in this, he had Tengen. But Tengen was just as lost as he was so both men could only fumble to find words to accurately convey the depths of their thoughts.

And the horrible thing about this was how blissfully unknowing Genya was. It felt evil to know so much about the boy without his knowledge. Sanemi felt disgusting acting normal in front of his brother when everything was the furthest thing from normal. Sanemi had found out Genya's darkest secret and he didn't even know.

And he wouldn't know.

Not until later.

Not until they were both ready.

So Sanemi smiled, driving towards the police station with his brother in the passenger seat, and acted like nothing was wrong. He was too lost in his own mind to notice the anxious tapping of Genya's fingers against the seatbelt. Sanemi racked his brain for anything useful even though he had done this quite possibly hundreds of times since cleaning the apartment.

The woman was named Miyano, Sanemi knew. But he didn't know anything else. He refused to ask Genya who she was, that was his last choice. A sinking feeling infected his stomach, a daunting reality showing its face. Would Sanemi have to ask Kyogo? Could he?

Sanemi didn't think he could look the man in the face and speak. He knew that if he saw that monster up close, every word would dissipate upon touching his tongue. He was a coward, he always had been. He was terrified of Kyogo but if it meant helping Genya heal, could Sanemi do it? Because if Genya deserved anything, it was the ability to heal. To be able to act his own age. To have fun like a teenager should.

He would have to call Tengen later, to see what the man thought of this. Maybe Tengen would be able to find a better alternative. Maybe Hinatsuru would be able to give insight to all of this. Yeah, Genya's experience and her experience were much different but maybe something would help. Sanemi was desperate at this point. He couldn't look at his baby brother and think about a grown woman touching him without feeling directionless fury.