Chapter Text
Blaze was never good at noticing subtlety.
People often joked that he was like fire—burning bright, intense, and a little too loud to notice the quieter things around him. But he wasn’t oblivious, especially when it came to his family.
Lately, something had felt...off.
It wasn’t one big thing. It was a series of small, easily dismissible moments. Halilintar snapped less at his antics, not waking him up for morning jogs, and worst of all, the lack of scolding when Blaze definitely deserved it.
At first, Blaze thought his brother was just tired of dealing with him, but the gnawing feeling in his gut said otherwise.
The first time Blaze thought something was strange was during one of their usual arguments.
Blaze had accidentally spilled soda all over the kitchen counter while trying to juggle two cans.
Normally, Halilintar would’ve given him an earful, scolding him about responsibility and not making a mess. But this time? Halilintar just glanced at the mess, muttered, “Clean it up,” and walked away.
No lecture, no exasperated sigh, nothing. Blaze stood there for a moment, stunned. It felt wrong, like missing a punchline to a joke he didn’t know he was part of.
The second time was during a weekend jog.
Blaze hated running in the early morning or late evening, but he joined Halilintar whenever his brother dragged him out. It was their weird bonding time—Blaze would complain, Halilintar would tell him to suck it up, and they’d end the run laughing about how much Blaze hated cardio.
But last week, Halilintar didn’t even wake him up.
When Blaze stumbled downstairs mid-morning, still groggy, Halilintar was just sitting at the dining table with a cup of tea, staring out the window. Blaze had teased him about skipping the jog, but Halilintar only shrugged, muttering something about not feeling like it.
The last situation was the one that finally made Blaze’s stomach twist with unease.
It was a typical chaotic evening, with Solar showing off some experiment, Duri and Taufan arguing over the TV remote, and Ais looking half-asleep on the couch. Blaze, feeling particularly mischievous, had pulled a prank by swapping the sugar in Halilintar’s tea with salt.
He waited for the usual glare, the sharp retort, or even Halilintar forcing him to drink the ruined tea as payback.
But instead, Halilintar took a sip, grimaced slightly, and quietly poured the tea down the sink without a word.
No retaliation. No reaction. Nothing.
That was when Blaze knew something wasn’t right. Halilintar wasn’t acting like Halilintar anymore. And Blaze hated that it took him this long to notice.
Blaze wasn’t in a good mood.
He was already feeling the weight of a bad mood. First, Solar had made a snarky comment about Blaze's messy room during breakfast, which was fine—Blaze could take Solar’s teasing on a good day. But today wasn’t one of those days.
Later, during PE, a small argument with a classmate turned into an embarrassing moment when Blaze, ever hot-headed, snapped loudly enough to get the teacher involved.
The scolding was swift and public, earning a few muttered jokes from his peers. By the time lunch rolled around, Blaze was seething.
When Halilintar found him after school, Blaze was sitting alone near the bike rack, earbuds jammed into his ears as he tried to block out the world.
“Blaze,” Halilintar called, nudging him lightly on the shoulder. Blaze didn’t respond.
“Blaze,” Halilintar repeated, firmer this time, pulling one of the earbuds out.
“What?” Blaze snapped, narrowing his eyes at his older brother.
Halilintar raised a brow. “I need your help in the garage tonight. There’s—”
“Can’t you see I’m busy?” Blaze interrupted, gesturing vaguely at his phone.
Halilintar sighed but didn’t press. “Fine. Just come when you’re ready, okay?”
Blaze grunted noncommittally and shoved his earbud back in. Halilintar hesitated, then walked away, leaving Blaze to stew in his irritation.
When Halilintar came looking for him after dinner, Blaze was sprawled on the couch, glaring at the ceiling.
“Blaze,” Halilintar called, his tone already edging toward that no-nonsense authority he always used.
Blaze didn’t bother looking at him. “What?”
“Garage. Now.”
Blaze rolled his eyes, sitting up just enough to glare at his older brother. “Can’t you get one of the others to help? I’m busy.”
“With what, exactly?” Halilintar asked, crossing his arms.
Blaze groaned, sitting up fully. “Why do you always pick on me? I’m not the only one who can lift stuff around here!”
Halilintar raised a brow. “I’m not ‘picking on you,’ Blaze. Just get up and help. It’ll take five minutes.”
Grumbling, Blaze followed his brother to the garage.
Halilintar handed Blaze the end of an old table. “Careful with that. It’s heavier than it looks.”
“I know,” Blaze muttered, gripping the table.
They started moving the furniture in tense silence, the only sounds the occasional scrape of wood against the floor.
“You’ve been snapping at everyone lately,” Halilintar said suddenly, breaking the quiet.
Blaze rolled his eyes. “Gee, thanks for noticing. You’re not exactly a ray of sunshine yourself.”
Halilintar frowned. “I’m serious, Blaze. If something’s bothering you, you need to talk about it. You can’t just explode every time something doesn’t go your way.”
That did it. Blaze slammed the table down, the thud echoing in the garage.
“You’re one to talk!” Blaze shot back, his voice rising. “You’ve been acting weird for weeks now! Skipping jogs, ignoring everyone, and then you show up and order me around like nothing’s wrong. Maybe I wouldn’t be so mad all the time if you didn’t act like you’re the only one allowed to have problems!”
Halilintar froze, his expression unreadable.
“Do you even care about us anymore?” Blaze continued, his voice cracking. “Or are we just some obligation to you now?”
Halilintar’s eyes widened, and Blaze immediately regretted the words as his brother’s face crumpled, the hurt in his expression undeniable.
“Is that how you think about me?” Halilintar asked softly, his voice strained.
Blaze shifted uncomfortably, the weight of Halilintar's words pressing on him. His brother's question hung in the air, a quiet challenge that Blaze didn’t know how to answer.
“Well,” Blaze said, crossing his arms defensively, “you’re sure not acting like you care. You’ve been ignoring us—ignoring me. What am I supposed to think, huh?”
Halilintar’s lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes narrowing. “Do you think I want to act like this? You don’t know half of what I’m dealing with, Blaze.”
“Oh, here we go,” Blaze scoffed, throwing his hands up. “The ‘I have so much on my plate’ speech. You’re always acting like you’re carrying the whole world on your shoulders. Newsflash, Halilintar, you’re not the only one with problems!”
Halilintar’s face twisted, a mix of anger and hurt flashing across his features. “You think I don’t know that?” His voice cracked, rising with each word. “Do you think I enjoy being like this? That I want to be distant? You don’t—” He stopped himself, breathing hard, his fists clenching at his sides.
Blaze stepped closer, his own anger bubbling over.
“Then what? What is it, huh? Because all I see is you shutting us out and pretending everything’s fine when it’s not!”
“You don’t understand!” Halilintar’s voice broke as he snapped, his composure finally shattering. “I’m trying , Blaze! I’m trying to keep everything together, and no matter what I do, it’s never enough!”
The raw emotion in Halilintar’s voice was like a punch to Blaze’s chest, but instead of calming down, he pushed harder.
“Then why don’t you say something?” Blaze shot back, his own voice shaking. “Why don’t you stop acting like you actually care? Maybe if you actually care you would just mind your own business!”
Halilintar’s jaw tightened, his shoulders shaking as he fought to keep control. “You don’t know anything…, it’s not that simple,” he whispered, his voice low and strained.
Blaze didn’t back down. “Of course it’s not simple! Nothing ever is! But you’re making it harder for no reason!”
Halilintar closed his eyes, his expression crumpling further as he let out a shaky breath. When he opened them again, the anger was gone, replaced by something far more painful.
“Do you really think I don’t care about you?” he asked softly, his voice barely audible.
Blaze hesitated, his own anger faltering. “I—”
The words he had thrown at his brother only moments before now felt sharp and unforgiving, but before he could apologize, Halilintar’s expression changed. It twisted into something dark, something Blaze had never seen before.
“If I didn’t care, then I would have long killed myself!” Halilintar yelled, his voice cracking with a raw, unfiltered pain that echoed through the garage.
The room fell silent, the weight of those words pressing down like a suffocating blanket.
Blaze’s mouth hung open, his thoughts grinding to a halt as his brother’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. For a moment, time seemed to stop, the air vibrating with the intensity of what had just been said.
He was speechless.
His anger, his frustration—everything felt trivial now. He had never seen Halilintar break like this, never even imagined that his brother was hiding so much beneath that stoic facade.
Halilintar’s face crumbled as he pushed past Blaze, his movements sharp and desperate. The sound of the garage door creaking open cut through the silence, and then he was gone, stepping out into the night without a single glance back.
Blaze remained frozen, the words replaying in his head, as if daring him to believe them. His knees gave way, and he sank to the floor, eyes wide and wet as realization dawned on him.
He hadn’t just hurt Halilintar. He had almost pushed him over the edge.
Blaze sat in the dim light of the garage, the cluttered space around him a perfect reflection of his mind—chaotic and heavy with unsaid words.
The echoes of Halilintar’s voice replayed in his mind, If I didn’t care, then I would have long killed myself. It made his heart clench, anger and guilt twisting together inside him. He ran a hand over his face, feeling the weight of the night pressing down on him.
“Blaze?” a voice broke through the haze, and he looked up to see Solar standing in the doorway, his usual confident smirk replaced by something more genuine—concern.
Blaze didn’t respond right away, but the sight of his brother there, his presence steady and unyielding, was enough to pull him out of his spiral. “What do you want?” Blaze asked, his voice rough, the usual bravado nowhere to be found.
Solar stepped inside, crossing the floor to stand next to Blaze. He leaned against the workbench, arms folded as he studied his brother. “I’m not here because I want something. I’m here because I think you need someone.”
Blaze scoffed, a bitter sound. “I’m fine.”
“Right,” Solar said, an eyebrow raised. “And that’s why you’re sitting here in the dark, looking like you’ve been run over by a truck.”
Blaze’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue. The silence that followed stretched between them, thick and uncomfortable. It was rare for Solar to be this serious, and it unsettled Blaze in a way he couldn’t quite describe.
“What happened?” Solar asked, breaking the silence with a quiet tone that surprised Blaze. “Did you and Hali fight?”
Blaze’s eyes narrowed, and he turned to glare at Solar. “How do you know?”
“I know you,” Solar said, the edge in his voice softening. “And I know Hali. He’s not been himself, has he?”
Blaze’s fists clenched at his sides. “He’s always been the strong one. The one who doesn’t let things get to him. But lately, he’s been... different. He’s not even trying to hide it, and I don’t know what to do.”
Solar sighed, pushing himself off the workbench and walking over to sit next to Blaze. The silence returned, but this time it felt less oppressive, like an understanding had been reached between them.
“Blaze,” Solar said finally, looking at his brother with those sharp, calculating eyes that seemed to see right through him. “Hali’s been carrying a lot on his own, more than any of us know. And sometimes, he tries to hide it, even from himself. You need to let him know that you’re there for him, that he doesn’t have to keep it all inside.”
Blaze’s gaze dropped to the floor, the weight of Solar’s words sinking in.
He thought back to the moments he’d seen Hali—the small things, the lost glances, the way he’d pull away when they were all together, like he was trying to disappear.
And then the words, If I didn’t care, then I would have long killed myself.
They burned in Blaze’s mind, a constant, aching reminder of how close he’d come to losing his brother.
“I messed up, Solar,” Blaze admitted, his voice cracking. “I didn’t see it. I thought he was just tired of me, tired of everything. But it’s more than that, isn’t it?”
Solar nodded, the seriousness in his eyes softening just enough to show that he understood. “It is. But it’s not too late. If you really care, show him. Don’t wait for him to come to you. Go to him.”
Blaze felt the first spark of hope in the night. Solar had always been sharp, too smart for his own good, but this was the first time Blaze had seen him so vulnerable.
For the first time, it felt like they were on the same side, fighting for the same thing.
“Thanks, Solar,” Blaze said, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I think I know what I need to do.”
Solar nodded, his lips quirking into a small smile that was almost like a promise. “I’ll be here. Always.”
Blaze pushed himself to his feet, the garage no longer suffocating him. There was still a long way to go, but he had hope now. Hope that maybe, just maybe, they could start fixing what was broken. He turned to Solar, determination flaring in his eyes. “Let’s go find him.”
Solar’s eyes glimmered with a rare, warm pride. “Let’s.”
Blaze decided to go into the trio's oldest room.
Without a word, he jumped onto Halilintar’s bed, his body landing with a soft thud. Halilintar, who had been lying in bed staring at the ceiling, froze for a moment, shocked by the sudden intrusion.
He glanced at Blaze, who was already lying next to him, his face tense, though his eyes wouldn’t meet his.
“What the hell, Blaze?” Halilintar muttered, rubbing his face in frustration.
He rolled onto his side, trying to ignore the unexpected intrusion. He knew things had been off between them, but he hadn’t expected this. His younger brother didn’t typically force his way into his space like this. At least not like this.
Blaze didn’t answer. Instead, he shifted closer, wrapping his arm around Halilintar in an almost desperate embrace. Halilintar’s body went rigid at the sudden closeness, instinctively trying to push Blaze off, but his hands remained unmoving.
“Blaze,” Halilintar said, voice strained, “what are you—”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Blaze said in a low voice, and it was clear to Halilintar that it wasn’t just a statement—it was a plea.
His brother’s body trembled slightly, and it struck Halilintar with a sense of dread. Something was wrong. Something had been building since the last time they were at the garage, and now it was finally spilling over.
Blaze’s arms tightened around him. “Please, don’t push me away,” he whispered, voice cracking.
Halilintar was caught off guard.
He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, Blaze sniffled and pulled him even closer.
The sound was faint, but it was enough to make Halilintar stop struggling. He felt something heavy in his chest. Something wasn’t right, and Blaze was finally showing signs of it.
Halilintar’s usual stubbornness, his usual attempts to push away the emotions building between them, melted away at the raw vulnerability in Blaze’s voice.
“Blaze,” Halilintar whispered, his voice quieter now, barely a breath. “What’s going on?”
But instead of responding, Blaze buried his face into Halilintar’s chest, letting the tears fall.
He tried to muffle them, to hide the sobs that shook his body, but they escaped anyway. His breath was uneven, choked with emotion. Halilintar’s heart tightened. He could feel his brother’s pain through the trembling of his body, the way his hands clutched at him desperately.
“Blaze…” Halilintar said, his voice full of confusion, hurt, and something deeper—something like guilt. He wanted to comfort him, wanted to say the right thing, but his mind raced, unsure of where to start. Slowly, almost tentatively, he wrapped his arms around Blaze, pulling him closer.
“You don’t have to hide it,” Halilintar whispered, rubbing his back gently. “I’m here.”
Blaze’s sobs grew quieter, but the weight of his words still hung in the air. “I thought... I thought I could handle it alone,” Blaze said between hiccups, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I can’t. I can’t stand seeing you like this, Hali. I just want you to be okay... please, just be okay.”
Halilintar stayed silent, listening to his brother’s plea, feeling the desperation in each word.
The harsh reality of the situation hit him hard. His brother, the fiery one who was always quick to act, had been carrying so much, and Halilintar had never noticed. The weight of it felt unbearable.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Halilintar finally whispered, his voice breaking. “I’m sorry. I never meant to shut you out.”
Blaze nodded into Halilintar’s chest, his body still trembling with each breath.
They lay there together in silence, and though the room was dark and heavy with unsaid words, Halilintar felt a little lighter, a little more at peace, knowing that he could finally be there for his brother.
As the minutes passed, Blaze's sobs finally slowed, and his breathing steadied. Still, neither of them moved. They stayed like that, tangled in the quiet comfort of each other's presence.
After a long while, Blaze spoke again, his voice softer, more tired. "Thanks, Hali. I'm... I’m sorry.”
Halilintar smiled faintly, though Blaze couldn’t see it. “You don’t have to apologize,” he whispered back. “It’s not your fault.”
Blaze nodded into his chest, and the two brothers, finally vulnerable with each other, lay together in the darkness, knowing that no matter what happened, they’d always have each other.
The next morning, the sun's pale light filtered through the half-open blinds.
Halilintar woke to find Blaze still asleep beside him, his head nestled against Halilintar's shoulder. The weight of the previous night pressed on him, but it felt different now—less suffocating, more manageable.
He glanced at his brother, noticing the way Blaze's expression was relaxed in sleep, the tension that had been there the night before now gone.
Blaze stirred, eyes fluttering open, and he met Halilintar’s gaze.
The silence between them spoke volumes, filled with unspoken apologies and the beginning of healing. Halilintar cleared his throat, a touch of embarrassment creeping up his neck. “Morning,” he said, the word sounding fragile.
“Morning,” Blaze replied, voice thick with emotion.
He sat up, rubbing his eyes, and the sleepiness in his movements only made Halilintar’s heart ache more. “I... I’m sorry, Hali,” Blaze said, his voice breaking as he finally found the courage to speak.
Halilintar's expression softened, and he reached out, a hesitant hand brushing Blaze’s shoulder. “You don’t have to apologize, Blaze. I’m sorry, too. I should have talked to you sooner, should have let you see that I was struggling.”
Blaze shifted, sitting up straighter and turning to fully face Halilintar. “But you don’t have to deal with everything alone. I should have seen it, should have been there before you got to that point,” he said, his voice small but steady now.
The memory of Halilintar’s outburst last night, the raw pain in his words, was still fresh, but it was no longer sharp and piercing.
Now, it was a reminder of just how much they needed each other.
Halilintar let out a shaky breath, the weight of his own pain mingling with relief. He let his hand settle on Blaze’s shoulder, grounding him. “I’m not going anywhere, Blaze. And I’m here, even when I don’t show it. I promise.”
Blaze’s eyes welled up, but this time they were tears of hope, not despair.
A small, genuine smile pulled at his lips as he met Halilintar’s eyes. “I believe you,” he whispered. “And I’m here too, for you. Always.”
A silence fell over them, not the heavy silence of before but a comfortable one, full of the promise of a new beginning. The room, now bathed in the golden glow of early morning, seemed brighter.
Blaze’s eyes softened, and he managed a small chuckle. “You know, I never thought I’d see the day where you’d wake up and not yell at me for invading your space.”
Halilintar’s smile widened, and he nudged Blaze playfully. “Consider yourself lucky. It’s only because I’m still half-asleep.”
Blaze’s laughter filled the room, light and free, and the oldest joined in, the sound like music to his ears. They sat there, just the two of them, as the sunlight bathed them in its warmth, a quiet promise that even the darkest moments could lead to something brighter.
“I think we’ll be okay,” Blaze said, voice steady with newfound determination.
Halilintar nodded, squeezing his brother’s shoulder. “Yeah, we will be.”
And for the first time in weeks, it felt like maybe, just maybe, they could face whatever came next—together.