Raijin, you ARE the father

Usagi · 06-10-2022, 08:12 PM

Usagi lowered his head as Kuroo accepted the spices given to him, but not happily. He’d always seen his brother as an even-keeled, balanced person - the steady anchor in Usagi’s turbulent sea of anger and impulsive rage. It was Raijin’s words and actions in this moment, however, that seemed to break Kuroo’s dam as well. Usagi’s mossy eyes, watery and red-rimmed themselves, cast themselves to the floor as Roo momentarily left. His heart felt like it was crumpling into a tiny ball when he scarcely picked up his brother’s muffled sobs from outside. There was so much to process, and so little they felt they knew this far. Their whole journey, from the time they left Iga, had been an emotional and mental toll on them both, far more than any physical strain. Even he believed, for a few moments, that his brother had up and gone, not wanting to hear any more of what was an immensly difficult conversation - but upon hearing his heavy, sorrowful footfalls into the hut, he almost felt some relief. Relief that Kuroo had not left him alone with Raijin. Not leaving him alone to deal with this. All of it.

This time, Usagi would press his shoulder against his sibling’s. He needed comfort and support. They both did. He didn’t even flinch, even after his own favor he asked of their father had clearly taken a massive effect on the tusked man’s ability to respond. He said what he said, meant what he meant. He preferred not to speak if he didn’t have to, but he would most surely make an impact right where it hurt if it meant he was clear he wasn’t about to let him, or Kuroo, be abandoned again. Once Kuroo mentioned their mother’s last name - Shima - that at least gave way for more explanation, explanation that was much overdue.

When Raijin revealed he did know their mother, but not well, it struck a sore spot within his chest. So he’d barely gotten to know their mother. Their mother, who’d worked so hard, so tirelessly, so selflessly just so they had food in their bellies and a roof over their heads. Suddenly, a fresh bubbling of tears filled his eyes. She deserved more than someone who just wanted a quick fling for one night and then disappear. She was worth so much more than that. And then the apology began, him being sorry and him recognizing that saying so would never be enough. Usagi believed that all too well. For the Hohei, words meant little if unaccompanied by actions. Actions spoke louder than words, and Raijin’s presence would need to be a factor in whether or not he chose to fully forgive the man for being absent in their lives. Whether or not he knew they existed after being with their mother didn’t matter so much that, after the fact, why did he not follow up? Especially when she became pregnant with the two? It hurt. Suddenly the throbbing in his ankle was overwhelmed by the tightness in his chest and his throat and the steady trickle of tears that soaked the fur on his cheeks and wet his jaw.

And suddenly, Raijin himself was crying. He, too, didn’t sob so much as silently let the tears fall. Usagi felt another throb in his chest, realizing that they weren’t so astronomically, impossibly different. They were two different sides of the same coin, in some ways. Nothing like him personality-wise, but the smallest quirks in his behavior, the way he carried himself, the way he spoke. Swallowing back a wad of mucus, the Hohei huffed and sniffed, almost angrily rubbing his face of the tears on his shoulder before lifting his head again. The floor was open for answers, anything and everything. And in that moment, all the curses and swears and angry speeches Usagi had spent months, hours, minutes conducting and rehearsing in his head, over and over with such flaming hatred had dissipated like dust in the air. Gone. He was at a loss for words, too.

"I wish you had never left us," He stated the obvious, but that much was true. Terrified child in the dark, only wanting some small semblance of comfort that wouldn’t disappear. That the very stars of hope he clutched so close wouldn’t slip from his grasp. Don’t leave. Don’t go. Don’t forget us. We’re your sons, too.

”Speech” ’Thought’

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