Ah, great... someone I just met handed me a pen so I could… write the lyrics to a song? I could just not write it, but… that doesn't feel right.
Yuujin muttered that in his head as he walked back home alongside Misaki.
"Those two that came with us earlier—why aren't they here now?" Misaki asked, getting closer to her brother.
"Ah… they said they were gonna stay a bit longer in the music club," Yuujin replied, glancing around distractedly.
"You look worried. Did someone bully you or something? You can tell me, I'll deal with the jerk myself!" Misaki said, placing a hand on her brother's shoulder, noticing how spaced out he seemed.
"What? No! It's not that… and you? Did you make more friends?" Yuujin asked, lowering his gaze as he remembered a promise he'd made for that day.
"I joined a group of girls — they're pretty cool, totally my type," Misaki said casually, letting go of his shoulder and pulling her phone out of her pocket.
Yuujin lifted his eyes to the sky, deep in thought, before giving her his attention again.
"Are you going to the funeral today?" Yuujin asked. His words instantly froze the air between them, like a sheet of ice.
"I am… of course I am. So that's what you and Aunt Emi were trying to 'hide' from me?" Misaki asked, lowering her phone.
"It wasn't exactly a secret… but if I remember right, she said you're a bit sensitive with this kind of thing. I don't really remember everything she told me." Yuujin quickened his pace, and Misaki hurried to keep up.
"Yuujin! You're not acting normal! I know I tease you a lot, but I do have your back, you know! You can trust me, big bro." Misaki said, grabbing his hand — but he froze in place.
"Do you know what it's like to be pressured by more than one thing at once?" Yuujin turned to her, a bit sweaty on the forehead. His hand was damp, so Misaki let go.
"What? Of course I do. But what happened to you? Did a teacher dump a pile of homework on you? Just tell me, Yuujin!" Misaki said, raising her voice slightly.
"It's just that… there's this boy…" Yuujin swallowed hard, then lowered his voice. "I met a boy… and he and his group kind of 'adopted' me. And now he cursed me." Yuujin said it in a tone that was half serious, half dramatic.
"What do you mean? You're probably exaggerating. Maybe he just wants to be your friend and doesn't know how to show it?" Misaki said, starting to walk again, and Yuujin followed.
"No! I'm sure he only cares about what people can do for him! He's forcing me to write a song for his band," Yuujin complained, gripping his arm tightly.
"But you don't have to actually do it, he's no one to you yet," Misaki said, knowing how detached her brother could be from people's intentions.
"It just feels wrong… he really seemed to trust me…" Yuujin said, pressing harder on his arm.
"Do whatever feels right to you, okay? You just reminded me of the funeral, now I'm in a rush," Misaki said, walking faster this time — but Yuujin didn't follow. He kept walking slowly, not really caring about the time.
When they finally got home, Emi — who had been dismissed early from work — was already dressed for the occasion.
"You two know what to do, right?" Emi asked, her head slightly lowered as she rested a hand on each of their shoulders.
"We know…" Misaki said, stepping away and going to her room, slamming the door harder than usual.
Yuujin walked off soon after, changing into black pants, formal black shoes, a white shirt, and a suit jacket. He carefully adjusted every little detail.
When he stepped out of his room, Misaki and Emi were already waiting. He paused for a moment.
"I need to grab something," Yuujin said, going back into his room and picking up the lamp his father had given him. When he returned to the living room, Misaki clenched her fists and went to her room silently, returning with a well-kept doll in her hands.
"Ah… Marietta…" Yuujin murmured, clutching the lamp tightly.
"Marietta?" Emi asked, puzzled.
"A doll Mom made especially for Misaki…" Yuujin said, stepping closer to his sister and touching her shoulder. She instantly hugged him tightly, tears streaming down her face.
Emi watched them for a few seconds, eyes stinging, before calling them so they could finally leave.
At the funeral, Yuujin and Misaki stood together as they placed their precious objects on their parents' graves. Yuujin set the lamp on his father's, and Misaki placed the doll on her mother's. In the end, they embraced again, Misaki pressing against him as both of them cried in silence.
Yuujin spoke briefly with some of his parents' friends and relatives, never going into detail. Eventually, he decided to step outside the cemetery and sit on the curb to catch his breath. That's when Kaito, an old friend, joined him.
"So… do you like Tokyo, or do you miss it here?" Kaito asked, standing nearby but not sitting yet.
"I'd be fine anywhere, as long as my parents were there," Yuujin said plainly. Kaito gave a small smile, nothing too big.
"I like how you brushed me off — it shows how much you really loved them. I get it, man. It's hard to be away from them, even if it's just one," Kaito said, clenching his fists before finally sitting beside Yuujin. "You can cry, Yuujin… you don't have to carry all this pain alone." He placed a hand on Yuujin's shoulder, and Yuujin finally let himself feel everything, breaking down into a deep, quiet sob.
Someone was watching them from afar — eyes analytical, calm, but strangely curious.
"So he's hiding something. Interesting," said Taylor, the observer. He'd only come to Osaka for what was supposed to be a casual trip… yet somehow, he'd stumbled upon Yuujin crying next to a boy he didn't recognize.
Yuujin was more broken than ever now — and he still had to write that damned song for Aoki. He felt stupid for not having the courage to fight back, weak for letting himself cry. But what he didn't know… was what awaited him from this point on.