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It’s already been established that Ena finds her brother and his boyfriend (profusely denied by Akito for whatever reasons unknown to her, but she must be a real idiot to call them anything but romantically involved) extremely disgustingly cute—and she hasn’t even met him yet.
Over the course of a few weeks, Akito has been opening up to her more about his love life, something that she’s proud to accomplish as his totally amazing and capable elder sister whose abilities in the emotions processing department definitely does not rival that of a rock.
At the moment, all she knows about this partner of Akito’s is that he’s some loud guy that likes playing piano. The description doesn’t really tell her that much about him, but from the way Akito’s face goes all tender and mushy whenever he talks about him…
Yeah, her little brother is absolutely, completely and terribly down horrendously bad for this guy.
Ena is always one for curiosity, so it was only given that she would start itching to meet this special boy that Akito has fallen head over heels over, ask him for all the embarrassing details, and maybe give him a little talk while she’s at it.
She inwardly cringes as the thoughts continuously formulate in her head.
Since when did she care this much about his love life? She normally wouldn’t give two shits—she should give no shits. It’s nothing to get nosy about, so she should just keep herself an arm’s distance away from his business, right?
…But still, deep down inside, why does she feel hurt?
“Ugh,” Ena slumps on her table, cheek pressing against the cold wooden surface. She groans, “This is fucking ridiculous.”
“So brash, Enanan!” A voice comes from her headphones. Ena jumps in her seat, completely forgetting that she was on call with Niigo.
“Shut up, Amia,” she mutters in response, setting her stylus pen down with a clack to grumble to herself again. She hears Mizuki giggling to themselves in the background.
A thoughtful hum comes from the other side. It sounded like Yuki. “You seem troubled.”
She wants to feel irritated, but any semblance of annoyance stops when she considers telling her friends about her dilemma. They can help… right? Surely they wouldn’t mind? It wouldn’t be the first time that she’s ranted on call.
“You guys wouldn’t get it,” she whines, and the words spill before she could stop herself, “I feel like I don’t know anything about him anymore. And it sucks that I don’t.”
“‘Him’?”
“My brother, Mizuki.”
“Ah, otoutou-kun!” Mizuki exclaims, and Ena is suddenly unhelpfully reminded that even they know more about Akito than she ever will. “What about him?”
A frown. Ena frowns so much that a part of her worries that it might permanently implant itself on her face. “That’s the thing,” she murmurs. Quietly, “I don’t know.
“Lately, I’ve been hearing so many new things about him and it doesn’t even come from Akito himself,” she bites out bitterly. But who, pray tell, is she so deeply frustrated at? Akito? Herself?
She’s frustrated at something, like how Ena had to go out of her way to help him for Akito to feel comfortable talking about his relationship, like it felt like she needed to earn his trust?
It’s like she’s remembering everything at once, checking off the enumerating amount of examples like a twisted list.
“I’ve had to learn about his music group through his best friend months after they formed. I’ve had to learn about how much he suffers without my knowledge because I hear him come back home at ungodly hours arguing with our dad, voice all hoarse and scratchy and overused—I find used up medication whenever I take out the trash—because what? He thinks that he needs to push himself to this extent because he’s inadequate? Why doesn’t he talk to me about it? Why can’t I be someone that he could depend on? When was the last time he called me onee-chan?”
“Ena—”
“Not only that, but the one time he’s actually talked to me about his life was when he was struggling to find a gift for his boyfriend that I didn’t even know about until he told me! And apparently they’ve been a thing for a while now? How am I not supposed to feel hurt?”
The call settles down into silence, giving Ena ample space to reflect on her words.
Kanade and Mafuyu are quiet, like they weren’t even there in the first place, but Ena knows that they’re listening if the atypical absence of their trademark incessant typing is anything to go by.
“Ena.”
“...What is it, Mafuyu?”
“When was the last time you talked to him?”
The question doesn’t even sound like real words at first. She blinks. Oh.
Mafuyu doesn’t give her the opportunity to give him a proper response, so he goes on without her in hopes that she hasn’t fallen behind processing his first few words. “You wonder why he doesn’t come to you, but have you given him any reason for him to trust you in the first place?”
Ena sputters and her chest twists in tight knots. He’s blunt as he always is, and she wants to feel angry, because who does he think he is? Lecturing her about her family problems when he doesn’t even have any siblings himself? How could he possibly understand what she feels?
But she can’t. She can’t be mad. She can’t because he’s right. What good has she done these past few years other than push him away? What kind of sister is she?
“Mafuyu—” Kanade speaks for the first time, trying to intervene out of concern.
“I-It’s fine, Kanade,” Ena mumbles forlornly. Suddenly, her eyes sting. “Mafuyu’s… He’s right.”
Mafuyu hums, and the white noise of typing picks back up again on his end. “If it’s really bothering you this much, then you should talk to him,” he suggests, “You… care for him. So, show him that.”
Amidst the buzzing of her headphones, she hears Mizuki beaming at him, profusely agreeing and readily giving Ena their words of encouragement, and she finds herself smiling at the warm feeling gradually bubbling in her chest.
“Thanks guys—”
“The sooner you resolve this, the sooner you can focus on drawing. It’s been three days and you’ve barely made any progress; don’t think I haven’t noticed.”
“Ugh, Mafuyu, you—!”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa guys! Break it off!”
“Sigh…”
Ena is a woman on a mission.
She’s determined to show Akito that she’s still his very dependable and very reliable big sister, even if she doesn’t show it sometimes.
First things first… uh…
Where does she even begin?
Maybe she should start by getting him something. Like, food maybe? She’s always asking him to get cheesecake for her, so maybe it’s about time she returns the favor.
It’s a good thing that they both like the same cafe, saving her the extra effort of needing to browse for a place that he’d hopefully like.
Ena finds herself standing in front of said cafe about an hour later, looking through the reflections of the glass door to momentarily fix the ribbon in her hair back in place before gingerly turning the knob and stepping in.
The bell chimes in rhythmic clinks, and the smell of fresh bread and pastries welcome her like the embrace of a warm blanket. The cafe itself is intricately lit in a way that brings a cozy air of nostalgia breezing by her cheeks. It’s been a while since she’s stepped foot in this place in person.
The lady by the cashier notices her the moment she hears the jingling bells. She says nothing more than ‘Welcome!’ with a homely smile, which slides in the last piece that of which makes up the very essence of why they’re regulars at this particular bakery in the first place.
In return, the faintest smile finds its way onto Ena’s face in spite of her sour mood these past few days. The atmosphere of this cafe is therapeutic enough to allow herself some semblance of solace amidst the mess that is her family life.
Now with a portion of her mood restored, she happily strides up to the cashier lady, who in turn greets her again. “Hello, what would you like?”
Ena hums, looking over to the selection of pastries displayed to her left. There’s a wide assortment of desserts, ranging from colorful round macarons to sweet chocolate doughnuts to rich, citrusy lemon meringues, but what she’s really looking for is…
“I’ll have a portion of the fluffy pancakes to go,” she tells her. “Extra cream?”
The clerk nods happily, already tapping away on the cash register. Before she finalizes the order, she asks her, “Is there anything else?”
Ena falls back to contemplative silence. Despite this solely being a mission to get her baby brother some sweets, her eyes couldn’t help but wander to the pristine strawberry cheesecake that Akito would always get her.
…A little treat won’t hurt.
“I’ll have one slice of the strawberry cheesecake then, thank you!”
“To go as well?”
“Yes, please.”
The sound of tapping returns, and Ena swiftly makes the purchase, leaving with the cashier lady bidding her farewell.
She’s mostly back up in spirits by the time she exits the bakery. All it takes is a bagful of desserts in her hand and hope that this would become a stepping stone in restoring her rocky relationship with her brother.
The entire trip to and back home took about another hour, and the clock hands turn to noon when she closes the door behind her. What greets her, expectedly, is the sight of an empty living room. Wasting no less time, she sets the bag down on the table and carefully takes the dessert boxes out. As much as she wants to stab a fork into that enticing slice of cheesecake right then, she ultimately decides to wait for Akito to come back from his group practice session so they could eat together.
When was the last time they had eaten on the same dinner table?
The thought dampens her mood just the slightest, but she doesn’t allow herself to dwell on it for any longer than she ought to. Making quick work, Ena takes the desserts out of the box and settles them on the small plates that she took out of the cabinet not long ago. After discarding the paper boxes, she brings the plates to cool in the fridge until Akito comes home.
If her memory doesn’t fail her, he should be back in around four more hours.
That’s… a very long time.
But that’s okay, she can wait. In the meantime, she could just busy herself with art—if she could bring herself to finish Niigo’s next piece without having her thoughts drift back to her recent worries. Or maybe she should just stick to scrolling social media. Whatever.
She sighs to nobody in particular and drags herself back to her room.
Thus, the waiting game commences.
…It turns out, Ena had to wait for longer than just four hours.
While listening to the clock tick in her ears, she could not help but wonder, if this were back then, would she still care half as much about Akito’s extended absence compared to now?
She doesn’t know when this ‘switch’ actually began. Initially, she’d thought that it started when she first found out about Akito’s boyfriend (who she’s still very much curious about, thank you very much), but perhaps this throbbing feeling in her chest, this longing ache has been here for longer than she realized.
Maybe it first started when she spotted the array of throat soothing medications in the bin— copious amounts too for that matter, ranging from empty blister packs to throat patches that she knew for a fact definitely weren’t hers, or either of their parents for that matter, who’d rather take tea to soothe a poor throat than medicine—that she started thinking, perhaps Akito’s lifestyle wasn’t as healthy or smooth as she thought it was.
Of course it wasn’t—who was she, thinking that a music career wouldn’t be just as challenging as pursuing the arts?
But either way, it’s half past eight into the night, which means that she’s been waiting for double of Akito’s ETA. Her patience is beginning to wear incredibly thin.
What could he be doing out for so long? No way group practice takes this long, right?
Or maybe group practice ended a while ago and Akito’s out damaging his vocal cords again—
—for what? To prove his worth? She knows how stubborn he is; knows better than anybody else, so it doesn’t surprise her to think that he probably thinks of himself inadequate next to his teammates; nothing but mediocre.
Nothing but mediocre. Are you kidding me?
The longer her thoughts run rampant, the more she begins to understand—was this perhaps how Akito felt about her all those months ago when she was at her lowest?
Ena gets up.
She struts to her desk, booting her computer up. Her phone sits next to it, charging after hours of use while killing time waiting for what felt like practically half the day. While she waits for her computer to start running, she glances at the clock hanging above her. It’s already nine. This is usually the time she logs into Nightcord to start working in advance. But, well, if she has to wait any longer then she fears that she may have to show up later than usual.
Ena’s home screen lights up seconds later. It’s a picture of Niigo during one of their recent trips out together. She wordlessly boots Nightcord up with a fond smile.
Enanan: Sorry, guys (-_-;)
Enanan: Might be late…
Amia: Oyaya? Is this about otoutou-kun??? (>0<；)
Enanan: Would it make you feel accomplished if I said ‘yes’?
Amia: ꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡
K: Good luck, Enanan (･ω･)つ⊂(･ω･)
Yuki: 2
Enanan: Thanks guys
Enanan: ♡♡♡
Once Ena hits send, as if on cue, the front door swings open. She startles in her seat, fumbling with her mouse as she tries to shut her computer down. Getting up from her chair in a hurry, she turns on her heels, listening to the faint sound of rustling fabric and nothing else as she approaches the door. Akito doesn’t bother saying okaeri anymore.
Twisting the knob, she steps out of her room. As she makes the trek downstairs, she is greeted with the sight of Akito nonchalantly putting his things down on the couch.
“You’re home,” she remarks. The silence stretches.
Akito blinks up at her, owlishly. “Um. Yeah,” he mumbles, fumbling with the zipper of his jacket, “I’m back.”
“Are you hungry?”
He’s staring at her now, in the way he does whenever she tries to engage in an actual conversation with him—like he’s not used to it—and Ena’s chest throbs painfully.
Eventually, he hums, “A little bit. I guess.”
She smiles at the response, glad that the arduous hours of waiting that she went through isn’t all for nothing. Not only that, but she’s getting impatient, too. This may have been for Akito, but damn has she been craving that sweet, sweet delight of a strawberry cheesecake.
“Well, you’re in luck,” she says, without any further elaboration as she turns to the fridge to pull out the plates that she had set in there earlier that day. Ena can feel herself being scrutinized, with skeptical eyes following her every action. It’s a little ridiculous; does he think that she’s going to poison his dessert or something?
Ena sets the plates down on the table, followed by the kitchenware that she had gotten not long after. “I bought some desserts for us this morning.”
Akito looks like he’d been stunned. “You bought this,” he says, slowly, sounding out the vowels like he’s trying to familiarize himself with the words coming out of his mouth. “For… us?”
“Uh, yeah? Do you not want it?” She quips back at him.
Akito stammers for a second or two, eyes flickering down to the pancakes stacked on one of the plates. “No, no—that’s what I meant.”
Ena raises a brow. “Then what?”
She sees his eyes, studies his expression, taking in the way that he’s absorbing her words and actions like a sponge. “It’s nothing,” he mutters eventually, dragging one of the chairs out to sit. Across from him, Ena does the same. “If that’s the case, then itadakimasu!”
“Itadakimasu.”
Now that she’s faced with the alluring slice of cheesecake that she’s been waiting for hours to eat, Ena is a little ashamed to admit that she couldn’t resist vigorously digging her fork in the second she got the chance to. It’s a little hard to get the first forkful of cake from how long it’s been refrigerated, but the taste is still sweet all the same—so really, who is she to complain? Cheesecake is cheesecake, after all.
While chewing down her cake, she gazes up at Akito, who’s cutting up his first piece of pancake. She doesn’t know how good they might taste after being in the fridge for so many hours, but from the way his eyes are lighting up considerably after taking his first bite, what doubts she had earlier all suddenly find themselves dispelled. Has he always brightened up like that whenever he eats pancakes? How has she never noticed?
“You know,” Akito says, “Why wait until I get home for you to eat yours? Isn’t it all… frozen and stuff by now?”
Ena blinks.
“Um, well…” She sets her fork down on her plate, glancing away nervously. “It’s just. A change of pace. That’s all.” She ends up quickly taking another bite of her cheesecake, “Plus, it’s good when it’s cold anyways. You should try it sometime.”
When she turns back to look at him, she sees what looks like suspicion in his eyes, but he ultimately chooses not to question anything, much to her relief. Instead, he hums in acknowledgement as he continues his earlier train of thought while cutting his second slice, knife scraping against the pastry, “I was planning on going straight to bed after I got home.”
He pauses.
“But, this is nice.” And another pause, before the tips of his ears flush ever so slightly. “...Thanks, Ena.”
Ena is not tearing up. She’s not.
“Of course,” she says, faux confidence and all, “It’s what a good big sister does.”
He doesn’t say anything back to that, which is fine, because the happy look on her baby brother’s face as he works his way down the stacks on stacks of pancakes is already worth the world.
They don’t say much as they eat, but the silence doesn’t feel nearly as oppressing as she thought it’d be. Ena considers it a pretty big step in gluing the broken pieces of what’s left of their relationship back together, even if they’re still miles away from that goal.
She actually gets back to Niigo on time, connecting her headphones to her computer with practiced fingers. Kanade, who had their mic muted beforehand, unmutes as soon as Ena joins the call with a ding.
“Ah, Ena. You’re back.”
“Mm,” Ena smiles, even though they couldn’t see her. “Didn’t take long, thankfully.”
Curious as ever, Mizuki asks, “What were you even doing anyways?”
Ena’s already busying herself with getting her art equipment ready in front of her, humming a little to herself as she does so. “Just… some much needed sibling bonding, I think.”
Mafuyu unmutes. “How do you feel?” His voice comes through, cool as it always is. She’s surprised that even he is engaging in their conversation.
“How do I feel?” Ena echoes back, and she allows herself to think about it more.
How did she feel earlier, after having spent time with Akito for the first time in a while?
“But, this is nice. …Thank you, Ena.”
Ena feels her eyes crinkle just the slightest.
“It was nice,” she tells him. “I hope we can make up for lost time one day.”
“Mm. That’s good. I’m… relieved that you’ve managed to lessen what has been weighing you down recently.”
Embarrassingly so, Ena flusters. “Um. Yeah,” she stammers, “I’m—relieved, too.”
Something has been going on with Ena lately, Akito noticed.
He doesn’t know when or where it came from, but it’s weird — (but oddly nice?) —and he doesn’t know if he likes it or not.
Recently, she’s been doing all of these things that she’s never bothered to do before, like asking him about school, group practice, all that stuff—she even gives him advice, telling him not to push himself too hard and take breaks, and she gets him devastatingly delicious pancakes from time to time and it’s driving him insane.
It’s fine, he tells himself, because maybe he’s just overreacting. A few nice words aren’t the end of the world.
But the thing is that it’s coming from Ena, and he doesn’t know what spurred this sudden change without any explanation. Ever since he told her about Tsukasa, it’s like the world spun on its axis.
…What the hell?
She’s not being nice because he has a boyfriend now… right?
That just doesn’t make any damn sense. Who the hell turns a 180 once they find out that their brother has a partner? Some weirdo, probably, but that’s too much even for Ena.
Akito doesn’t even notice that Tsukasa has been calling his name until he feels his palm resting on his hand. His eyes trail down to the warmth now pressing against his skin and he finally realizes where he was when his gaze lands on his own hand situated on rows of piano keys.
“Akito?”
Ah, right. He was supposed to be playing with Tsukasa today.
“Sorry,” he mumbled out, shaking his thoughts off himself. “Just… thinking.”
Concern etches itself onto Tsukasa’s expression. His brows knit upwards and his lips are pulled down in a frown. “What’s going on?”
Akito shrugs, sliding his hand off of the piano, falling to his lap. The warmth leaves instantly, but Tsukasa doesn’t let him go without contact for very long as he’s already leaning in to bump their shoulders together as Akito tries finding the words to what he’s trying to say.
“It’s… Well, you know Ena right? My sister?”
Tsukasa looks up at him from where his head is resting on his shoulder. Akito doesn’t talk about Ena that often, so it doesn’t surprise him to see his eyes flicker down as he contemplates for a second or two. “I think so, yes.”
Akito darts his eyes away, nervous. He’s fidgeting, fingers sliding into place with one another until they come together neatly in a fold. “I told her about us.”
Tsukasa doesn’t tense or look at him weirdly—he’s nodding in understanding, soaking his words in. His voice has a tender and soothing cadence to it as he speaks, “What did she say?”
“Mm, she was cool with it,” he says, and really, it’s true. She’s actually been pretty nice about it, even if she looks like she’s gonna gag every time Akito’s voice softens at the mention of Tsukasa. But hey, that’s already much better than what his thoughts had been telling him all those months ago.
Wait, hold on, this wasn’t about their relationship. Sighing, Akito repeats himself, “She was cool with it, yeah, but that’s not the problem.”
“If that’s the case, then what’s weighing your mind?” Tsukasa encourages, with no teasing lilts, no witty remarks, nothing but patience and gentleness.
Akito stares down at his hands, folded on his lap. He rubs his thumb on one of his knuckles, tracing circles on it. “She’s being nice to me lately. I don’t know how to feel about it.”
Tsukasa doesn’t say anything back immediately, but it doesn’t feel like he’s ignoring him; no, never.
“Could it be that,” he starts, “You want to feel happy about it, but something in your conscience is telling you that you aren’t supposed to be?”
Akito grumbles, unsure of how he should take his answer. “Sure, maybe that’s the case, but—why? Why is she being so… not Ena?”
Tsukasa has moved his hand to rest back on Akito’s. He nearly melts from the contact alone. “Perhaps she’s trying to mend the wedge between you two.”
“I—” Akito falters, expression twisting. “But that’s—”
“Akito,” Tsukasa interrupts. “I think it’s because she loves you. Perhaps, she wants to make up for what rocky relationship that you two have shared over these past few years.”
For some reason, he jolts, like just the thought of it alone seems unreachable. “You haven’t met her,” he mutters, almost too quickly. “You don’t know what she’s like to be making those assumptions.”
“Well then, do you?”
Akito doesn’t know why he’s getting defensive. He doesn’t know why he suddenly feels so set on proving Tsukasa wrong. Ena isn’t like that, he wants to tell him, but he can’t find a reason why.
Why is it so hard to believe that she loves him? Why is it so difficult to comprehend a big sister caring for her little brother?
He doesn’t understand.
“Because,” he says, desperately; hopelessly. He doesn’t even know what to say anymore. “I’ve seen her. She doesn’t…”
Tsukasa gently pries his fingers away from each other and gingerly interlaces their hands together. “Love is a fickle little thing,” he whispers, soft as a feather. “Some people may not express it outwardly, but the love they feel for those they cherish will always be there.” Then, he glances at Akito, who meets his gaze albeit skeptically. “Are you not the same, Akito?”
“I’m…” He doesn’t answer. There’s no use in answering.
It seems like Tsukasa didn’t expect one from him either, and instead carries on with asking the single question that had been hanging onto every fiber of Akito’s body for months:
“Do you love her?”
Does he?
Akito has seen her at her worst, and perhaps he’s one of the only people that’s ever seen her at her most vulnerable—which means that he’s seen it all, heard it all—seen the dark bags under her eyes, coupled with the fatigue hanging from her lashes whenever she walks out of her room; heard her sobbing and curled in to herself, surrounded by dried paint stains and torn paper.
Would he have bled for her if he didn’t care? Would he have left food for her outside her door when she didn’t show up for dinner if he didn’t care? Would he have helped her clean up after the messes she left in her wake if he didn’t care?
Would he have done all of this if he didn’t care?
“Do you love her?”
What kind of question is that?
His eyes crinkle as he pulls his lips into a tight line. The answer seems obvious. It comes out through a tight throat, hoarse and raw and cracked around the edges—but if there’s one thing it isn’t, then it’s the fact that there’s every ounce of certainty in Akito’s voice when he says, “...Of course I do.”
As though happy with his answer, Tsukasa turns his head to nuzzle his neck, giving him light kisses on the expanse of skin there. Akito feels him smiling against him. “Then there’s your answer.” Tsukasa says fondly, before adding, “I think you should give her a chance. Talk to her.”
Akito crosses his legs, taps his foot against the floor. He glances at Tsukasa, then at his piano. If Ena really is putting in all the effort to make things better between them, then… maybe he should start returning her gestures.
“...I’ll try to.”