the librarian ❆ kagehina

home bittersweet home.

     "onii-chan!"

     a teenage girl with hair even wilder than shōyō's own came shooting around the corner to the foyer, lunging herself forward at him; he let her loop her skinny arms around his neck, and he swung her around in exchange for a happy little giggle. "hi, natsu!"

     "i missed you!" she squeezed his neck a little tighter, the smooth skin of her arms a comforting pressure on his tense shoulders.

     "missed you, too," the brother smiled warmly, pulling her away for just a moment to take a good look at her. he saw her not even a month ago for thanksgiving, but she somehow manages to grow older every time he comes home.

     "don't tell me that stupid 'you're getting so big' crap, shō."

     "it's true!" he chuckled, ruffling the unruly tangerine curls atop her head gently, "you're a big girl now."

     "i'm 14!"

     "see? big girl! wow!"

     "i take back saying i missed you."

     "sure you do."

     she pouted softly, and shōyō poked at the pudge on her cheeks, making condescending faces until she smiled and slapped his arm. she hugged him again, this time more tightly, and then she scurried off to the living room towards the tv. shōyō followed halfway, taking a detour to the small kitchen.

     "oh, hi, honey! oh, goodness, i'm so glad you're home, the snow was piling up, i was worried you'd get stuck in the storm-"

     "it's okay, mama, i'm here now."

     another tight hug ensued- they come in abundance in this household- and shōyō sank right into it. his mom always gives the best hugs.

     "your shoulders are so tight, hon! how's school? everything going okay?"

     school.
     shōyō silently damned his mother for bringing back the one thought he was trying to block out for just a moment, one peaceful, problem-free moment. no school, no work, no tobio- just home. tobio will not leave even if he's not around, shōyō now knows.

     "uh, yeah. yeah, it's all good. everything's fine."

     "alright," his mother spoke through a pursed grin, "well, i have some leftovers. do you want something to eat? here, come sit down, i'll heat them up."

     shōyō chuckled at her hastiness, but obliged nonetheless; he slid into a soft, cushioned bar chair at the granite island in the kitchen, resting his face on his propped up arms. he shook the clunky, purple winter coat off of his arms and slumped it over the back of the chair, stuffing his black beanie into the hood and fishing his phone out of the inside pocket. a few clicks brought kenma's contact onto the screen, and shōyō sent him a short text just to let him know he's finally made it home.
     shōyō misses kenma most at times like this. times when he's frustrated, or confused, or simply lost inside a lake swimming with parasitical thoughts that make him simply want to sit and cry. kenma will let him cry, and then he will make it better. kenma is always good at making things better. shōyō made a mental note to call his best friend later to plan when they can see each other.

     "here you go, baby," shōyō's mother cooed, pushing a hot bowl of tamago kake gohan across the grey and white speckled counter, "you're lucky i made your favorite dinner tonight. eat up."

     shōyō thanked her softly and dug in, feeling somewhat guilty- all because he knows he is possibly the most unlucky boy there is at the moment, and he's lying by keeping that truth from her.
     but, the food was warm, and it was delicious, and shōyō found that for this one trip home he may just be able to escape the plaguing thoughts that followed him all the way home from that cursed campus library.
     just maybe.