Chapter Text
Chika Takiishi, a four year-old with a normal family. Well, as normal as they could be with a drunkard of a father and an emotionally unavailable mother. Really, they didn't use to be like that, that much Chika is sure about. Sure, he's been indifferent to most things in life, not really paying attention to people and doing whatever he pleased. But he still remembered details such as the house not smelling like alcohol and the surroundings being cleaner.
He also remembers his parents being happier, nicer, even. They seemed more attentive too, always looking after Chika with wide smiles and speaking softly to him. He's not sure when exactly it changed, no, that would be a lie. He knew when it did, he just never bothered to bring his attention to it even after two years, he kept ignoring it.
He never interacted with the reason, hell, he wouldn't spare even a glance at it. He'd just continue going on with his life. Day after day, he continued to ignore the source, only occasionally even remembering it due to an irritating sound it made. It pissed him off to hear it, that's why he'd more often than not be out of the house, not wanting to be bothered by the following reactions his parents had to the sound. Anger and despair. They weren't fun in this context.
A two more years passed before the source of the icy house became old enough to keep quiet. And on a random day, when Chika was maybe around eight, he came home and was face to face with a sight he never saw before but knew was happening. He stared as his father grabbed the source of his anger by the hair and yelled. He hit, he kicked, he belittled, and eventually, he threw the source at a wall. "You can't even shut up properly!" he yelled as he grabbed a beer bottle on the floor and taking a long drink of it. "Fuck!" he yelled with a huff as he kicked the person on the floor in the stomach. He kept yelling at the other and kicking them. Over and over again without a second thought. The way he kicked was much akin to kickboxing, it made sense as Chika's father used to do it before he was even alive.
A choked up sniffle came from the small shivering person on the floor, it seemed to piss off the older man as he crouched down and roughly grabbed hair specifically on the right side. He lifted the youngest up and yelled at him for crying. Chika's not sure what he was yelling of, just that words like 'freak' and 'plague' had been thrown around.
The small child didn't stop crying, only making the situation worse for him as the oldest there threw him back on the floor. "You wanna cry? Then I'll give you something to cry about!" he yelled before raising the glass bottle and smashing it on the head of the small boy.
It was still half empty with the cheap alcohol that always plagued the fridge.
It shattered on impact with the head, spilling the alcohol on the fresh wounds on the source's head.
It must have burned.
The kid let out a loud screech before completely shutting up. He was no longer crying or yelling and his father had frozen in place. He seemed shocked.
Chika didn't really care, but for some reason, his eyes couldn't move from the unconcious body of the source of his parents' despair. An uncomfortable pressure began forming in his chest, it was... Painful? In a way he'd never felt in fights when being hit, pain he never felt before from seeing the unconcious bodies of the people he'd fought.
Something about that moment made Chika finally properly pay attention to the people around him. His father's black hair, how had he not noticed it before? And the color of the kid's hair who'd lived in the same house as him for six years. How did he not notice the unique half black and half white combination on his head? How did he not notice his body? How it was much smaller than his at that age? Much more fragile even. Sure he'd noticed it was small, but not that small.
The red from the wound on the kid's head was dying the white a crimson red, a color Chika loved, but for some reason, he hated it in that moment. He was finally snapped out of his frozen state when his eyes were covered with a hand. "Don't look." his mother said softly before leading him away, not uncovering his eyes until he was in his room. The door was locked after that. He wasn't let out for an hour or so. But when he was, he had a feeling it would of been better if he wasn't, because the smile on his mother's face was repulsive when paired with her words.
"Your brother won't be home for a while." she said as she patted his head. "Brother?" Chika repeated an his mother gave a chuckle. "Oh, yes, I forgot. You always forget about people." she hummed before taking Chika's hand and leading him into a small room. It was empty except for a shabby futon on the ground. "Isn't it nice?" she smiled much to Chika's confusion.
"What?" he managed to ask making the grip on his hand tighten slightly. As he looked up to look his mother in the eyes, he saw a dead look in her eyes. "That we'd let such a freak have anything?" she said before shutting the door. Was this what she rambled to him about every now and then? He remembered hearing this tone of voice from her every now and then whenever she wasn't just staring off into space or bussying herself with anything other than the crying coming from the room they stood in front of.
His mother let out a deeply annoyed sigh. "Such a shame he has my last name. Haruka Sakura. He doesn't deserve such a pretty last name. I wish it was yours instead." Chika stopped listening after that. He was processing the information he gathered. Freak? He'd heard his dad use it earlier too. But isn't that something used to describe something disgusting? That's what Chika had learned, yet his mother used it for... What was supposed to be her youngest son, his younger brother.
He was glad that he stopped processing whatever she was saying, judging by her tone, it was something he wouldn't of wanted to hear. His mother seemed to notice that he wasn't listening anymore as she let go of his hand. She said something in a tone that reminded Chika of the way she'd called his younger brother a freak in. Something like a mix of disappointment and anger.
Soon enough, his mother headed for the master bedroom and locked herself in it. Chika walked to the living room, he could still smell the alcohol. The wall had a red stain on it, it had been cleaned as well off of the wallpaper as possible but due to the type of stain, it was impossible to get it all off without removing the wallpaper itself.
He walked over carefully and touched the stain. It was ugly. He hated it. So, he grabbed a stray piece of glass that hadn't been cleaned up, and used it to tear off the piece of wallpaper with blood on it the sound was odly pleasant to his ears and the stainless wall made him feel more at ease. He crumpled the piece in his hands and threw it into a trash can before going outside. He wanted to clear his mind and make that ache in his chest disappear.
And that's exactly what he did, he found a construction site with people seemingly ready to head home for the day. The moon was already begining to rise up into the sky. Chika beat up the construction workers and piled their unconcious bodies into a pile before climbing the scaffolding as high as he could. There he met a boy around his age. He wa at surer what he looked like, at some point he stopped being able to perceive people again. The boy grabbed his wrist and Chika pushed him away.
He thought that was the end of that interaction, but the boy found him again the next day and told him he wouldn't get in his way anymore. After that day, he followed Chika everywhere.
Well, everywhere he'd let the other follow him to. There were two place she wouldn't. One was his home. There was no particular reason other than him just not wanting to. And the other? It was the hospital where his brother was. He went there once with his parents. Something about keeping appearances? But that didn't matter, what did, was the fact that only his brother remained perceivable. Not just a blur, but crystal clear. Black and white hair, yellow and blue eyes. He was quiet. He didn't say anything, he looked miserable. It made Chika a little pissed to see him like that if he was being honest.
Whenever he'd visit, he'd see adults around him. When the adults noticed him, they'd leave Chika to talk with his brother. They never did talk, they didn't even look each other in the eyes. Well, Haruka didn't. He kept his gaze strictly on his hands whenever Chika or their parents were there. He never dared to utter a word around any of them.
But today was different. Chika knew it was different, because the adults weren't there. He knew it was different, because Haruka was no longer just sitting in bed but standing. He knew it was different, because the other looked him in the eye for the first time.
"I'm leaving home." the smaller said so quietly that Chika had to strain his ears just to hear him. He half wished he didn't though. "Leaving?" he repeated, the words tasted foul. The other nodded. "I'm leaving. I don't know where. The grown ups, they said... To a safe place. But I know it's a lie." the boy talked, his words were empty. Emotionless even. Was that how Chika talked?
"I know it's a lie 'cause they also look at me like mom and dad. They don't like me. No one does. Not even you." Haruka's hand subconsciously moved to his cheek, he seemed to space out for a moment before moving his hand back to his side. "I don't like you?" Chika asked, he didn't think so. If he didn't like the other, he wouldn't even be there. But he's not really sure why he was there either. Did he like his younger brother? Who knows. He didn't, well, not back then at least.
"Yeah!" Haruka exclaimed before slapping his hands over his mouth with wide eyes. "I-I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean to yell..." his voice was as quiet as a mouse's. He seemed scared. Chika took a moment to think before walking over and lifting his hand, the other flinched and closed his eyes. But Chika didn't hit him, on the contrary, he patted his head. The hair was knotted, but besides for that, it was oddly smooth. "There there." Chika said with a few pats, he vaguely remembered his mother doing that a long time ago. It was supposed to make the other feel better, it never worked for him, but maybe it would or his brother.
"Why?..." Haruka suddenly asked with a sniffle. "Why are you so nice now?" he clarified before wiping at his years. Chika tilted his head. "Is it 'cause dad hurt me? Do you pity me too?" Haruka asked with a sob. Chika didn't answer, maybe he should of. If he did, maybe things would of been different. But he didn't, he couldn't change that.
After that day, the other did indeed leave. He didn't come home. He wansy at the hospital. He wasn't even in the same town anymore. Some adults came to his home and asked him annoying questions. He didn't bother lying, but he didn't really bother answering either. So he stayed with his parents in the end. They seemed to cheer up more too. The house no longer stank of alcohol, his dad wasn't always angry, his mother seemed more alive. It was just like before his brother was there.
He wished it wasn't.