Pitter Patter | Victuuri Adoption AU on hiatus

Exhausted

2nd ed.

Elkena's P.O.V.

The morning is soft and sleepy in Hasetsu. It's a relief to finally be home— in the peaceful and dignified environment of Japan— but I don't have the energy to truly enjoy the break from Russian weather yet. It's just too early to really be grateful for anything— even the warm grace of finally walking through the front door of our seasonal home. Added jet-lag on top of the early hour is really just like adding insult to injury.

I know Poppa feels the exhaustion too because he really seems to be a walking zombie— either blissfully unaware of the blaring phone in his pocket, or just too tired to do anything about it. I'd let it slide, normally, but the repeated sound is like a hammer to my eardrums. Somebody is relentlessly blowing up his phone with text messages— probably Valkyrie— and I don't know what level of death a human has to achieve to not do anything about such an incessant noise. I cannot deal with this all the way upstairs.

"Please check your messages, Poppa. Your phone is erupting... Poppa, are you sleepwalking?"

"Huh?" Poppa blinks around as I prod him. "Oh, Kena-chan," his bleary gaze seems to manage some focus on me. "What'd you say, darling?"

"Poppa," I roll my eyes— only to pause as I realize rolling my eyes hurts, and slowly remove my glasses to sorely rub at my straining eyes— at him while I chastise my own father. "If you're not going to look at your messages, will you at least silence your ringer?" I plead, replacing my glasses.

Poppa blinks tiredly at me, setting down the load of suitcases and baggage. It occurs to me that Poppa may well have been just as annoyed by the sound as I was, but unable to reach his phone. He yields a great yawn before responding to me, as if demonstrating how tired he is by lifting his hands over his head to stretch and really enjoy the relief of being home. Perfunctorily, I mimic Poppa, setting down my own backpack and suitcase in the foyer to yawn and stretch.

"Oh, is that what that sound is?" Poppa finally says around the last syllable of his yawn.

He palms his phone and scrolls through the onslaught of messages. He squints and skims the messages. A small smile emerges through the heavy curtain of exhaustion covering his face. He lifts an eyebrow before looking up at me.

"Kiriko-chan urgently insists that you take your phone off airplane mode. 'Emergency', she says," Poppa informs me. "She says she needs 'girl' advice, and it can't wait."

I groan, unwilling to endure the torment of a needy little sister at 8am. Even before she was officially or legally my younger sister, she was good at picking the worst times to need me. And, of course, I always put up with it— even when we've both grown up a considerable amount.

Not happily so do I endure her demands, though. I must make a reluctant face, or perhaps Poppa can just tell I'm not exactly in the mood. He gives me a look of exhausted sympathy. I try to shrug him off, but Poppa is faster.

"Should I tell her you're tired, and it'll have to wait until morning for her? It's 2am in Russia right now, in all fairness, she should be sleeping."

I consider that option. I know my sister better than anyone— so I know she won't listen to Poppa. Better than anyone, I know that Valkyrie is something of an insomniac because she sneaks into my room to ask me wild questions about any variety of everything— and that habit was much worse when we were younger and shared a room. These days, she's addicted to binge-watching entire seasons of TV shows, exercising in or cleaning her room at odd hours, procrastinating online homework until it's due in a matter of hours, etc. I can hardly imagine what kind of "girl emergency" she's wrapped herself up in this time. Conceivably, it could be something as stupid and silly as that she just can't sleep because she misses me. But she more likely is not having a "girl" issue at all— rather an instance of trouble involving the opposite gender, i.e. sending nudes to the wrong guy on Snapchat.