[ It hasn't escaped Yu's notice that Souji isn't sleeping lately.
How could he not notice? They share a bedroom. Souji is Souji, and tries to hide it, lying still until he thinks Yu is asleep before picking up his phone or meandering out to the living room, but at some point in the week Yu started deliberately faking sleep to see how often it was actually happening.
That the answer was "every night" was disturbing enough. But worse, honestly, was that he didn't know how to bring it up with his brother. Hadn't they just decided to be more honest with each other? To talk about their problems, their memories? But here's Souji, not sleeping, sneaking around. Not telling him something. Yu knows his twin well enough to know when Souji is keeping secrets.
And it hurts. Hadn't they been making progress? Why had Souji suddenly decided to stop speaking with him again? Had he done something wrong? Something to drive Souji away, to lose his brother's trust?
All these thoughts keep him from saying a word. He doesn't know how. He doesn't know where to begin. So he watches, he sees, and he says nothing.
(If only he knew what was coming. Even 24 hours later he'll be furiously blaming himself for not being brave enough to speak up.)
It's likely he would have left it alone entirely if not for something that happened Thursday afternoon. He'd walked into their bedroom for something unimportant, Souji wasn't even home, but he hadn't expected to see something peeking out from beneath Souji's pillow. He'd frozen in place, torn in two by a mix of guilt and outright anger, but anger had won out enough to get him to move his feet.
That anger disappeared in an icy flash when the hidden object in question turned out to be a picture. A picture of a man, a young girl, and...
them.
The person that they once were.
It's not the only one. Yu turns the room upside down and finds the others, poorly hidden in Souji's exhaustion. Yu sits in the middle of their bedroom floor, chest heaving as he stares at the pictures and objects spread out before him, and then he pulls out his phone.
Driven only by manic vindication, Yu snaps a photo of the set up and texts it to Souji. This is followed immediately by a single short text: ]
7/20
How could he not notice? They share a bedroom. Souji is Souji, and tries to hide it, lying still until he thinks Yu is asleep before picking up his phone or meandering out to the living room, but at some point in the week Yu started deliberately faking sleep to see how often it was actually happening.
That the answer was "every night" was disturbing enough. But worse, honestly, was that he didn't know how to bring it up with his brother. Hadn't they just decided to be more honest with each other? To talk about their problems, their memories? But here's Souji, not sleeping, sneaking around. Not telling him something. Yu knows his twin well enough to know when Souji is keeping secrets.
And it hurts. Hadn't they been making progress? Why had Souji suddenly decided to stop speaking with him again? Had he done something wrong? Something to drive Souji away, to lose his brother's trust?
All these thoughts keep him from saying a word. He doesn't know how. He doesn't know where to begin. So he watches, he sees, and he says nothing.
(If only he knew what was coming. Even 24 hours later he'll be furiously blaming himself for not being brave enough to speak up.)
It's likely he would have left it alone entirely if not for something that happened Thursday afternoon. He'd walked into their bedroom for something unimportant, Souji wasn't even home, but he hadn't expected to see something peeking out from beneath Souji's pillow. He'd frozen in place, torn in two by a mix of guilt and outright anger, but anger had won out enough to get him to move his feet.
That anger disappeared in an icy flash when the hidden object in question turned out to be a picture. A picture of a man, a young girl, and...
them.
The person that they once were.
It's not the only one. Yu turns the room upside down and finds the others, poorly hidden in Souji's exhaustion. Yu sits in the middle of their bedroom floor, chest heaving as he stares at the pictures and objects spread out before him, and then he pulls out his phone.
Driven only by manic vindication, Yu snaps a photo of the set up and texts it to Souji. This is followed immediately by a single short text: ]
Come home.