Boboiboy Oneshots

The Weight of the World

Warning : Suicide

Half of the credits goes to @yaya12eli6 for giving this idea. Thank you.

Gempa's days had become a blur of tasks, missions, and responsibilities. Each day, he woke up feeling more exhausted than the last, yet he pushed through. His brothers needed him—they always needed him. He had to be strong for them.

He sat at the dining table one morning, staring at a bowl of half-eaten cereal as his brothers chatted around him. He could hear Solar bragging about acing another test, Duri excitedly showing off a new plant he'd grown, and Blaze teasing Ice for sleeping in again.

"Gem?" Taufan's voice pulled him from his thoughts. "You okay? You've been quiet lately."

"I'm fine," Gempa said quickly, forcing a small smile.

Taufan didn't look convinced. "You've been 'fine' for weeks now, but you don't seem fine."

"Drop it, Taufan," Gempa said, his voice sharper than he intended.

The table fell silent for a moment before Halilintar spoke up. "If something's wrong, you can tell us, you know."

"There's nothing wrong," Gempa snapped, standing up abruptly. "I'm just tired, alright?"

His brothers exchanged worried glances, but no one pressed further. Gempa grabbed his plate and walked to the sink, his jaw tight. He hated snapping at them, but he didn't want to burden them with his problems. They already have enough to deal with.

The days passed, and the weight on Gempa's shoulders only grew heavier. Every mission felt like it would be the one where something went horribly wrong. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw flashes of battles, injuries, and near-deaths.

His brothers tried to help—tried so hard. Taufan insisted on cooking dinner one night, but Gempa took over after ten minutes, muttering about how it wasn't being done right. Halilintar suggested they all take a day off, but Gempa refused, saying there was too much to do.

"Gempa, you can't keep doing this," Halilintar said one evening. "You're going to burn out."

"I'm fine," Gempa replied for what felt like the hundredth time.

"You're not fine!" Halilintar shouted, his frustration boiling over.

"I don't have time to fall apart, Hali!" Gempa shot back. "Someone has to keep this family together!"

Halilintar opened his mouth to argue but stopped when he saw the raw pain in Gempa's eyes. Instead, he clenched his fists and walked away, muttering under his breath.

That night, Gempa stood alone in the kitchen, chopping onions for dinner. The house was quiet, his brothers scattered in their rooms or elsewhere. His hands worked mechanically, his mind racing.

You're not strong enough.
What if something happens to them?
You can't save everyone.
What's the point of all this?

The thoughts clawed at him, louder and louder, until he couldn't hear anything else. His hands trembled as he set down the onion and stared at the knife in his hand.

His breath hitched. The shiny blade seemed to glint in the dim kitchen light, and suddenly, he wasn't in the kitchen anymore.

He saw flashes of missions gone wrong, his brothers injured or worse. He saw himself standing over graves, the crushing weight of failure pressing down on him. He heard the echoes of his own voice, screaming orders that went unheard, begging for outcomes he couldn't control.