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“You two didn’t walk back together?!”
“He has his own mic, he can handle himself!”
“He’s fourteen! ”
Jiro falters finally, backing down. He’s never seen his brother yell, much less at him. He timidly responds, “how was I supposed to know he wasn’t gonna come home, Aniki?”
Ichiro runs a hand through his hair, trying to calm his nerves— trying to calm down the parental, worrying side of him. “Saburo’s smart… Something must have happened if he’s not back by now…”
Outside the brothers’ apartment, the lights of the city of Ikebukuro shine through. The neon vibrancy of the lights is a giveaway that it’s unnatural; a telltale sign of nighttime in the city.
“… And what if I didn’t come back by now?”
“I’d still be worried, Jiro. But this isn’t like Saburo. What did he say to you before you two broke off?”
The middle brother tries recalling the events earlier that day, closing his eyes as if that will help him remember. “I dunno the details… We started arguin’ again, and he went a different way in a huff.” He opens his mismatched eyes, looking at his brother. “I… I’m sorry Aniki, I didn’t mean to push him away; I don’t know where he went.”
“It’s alright, Jiro. I didn’t mean to yell; I’m sure it wasn’t your fault… I just worry—”
He’s interrupted by the buzzing of his phone. His hand quickly flies to the back pocket of his jeans, pulling the device out and nearly dropping it in the process. He looks at the screen, hoping to see Saburo’s name pop up.
Jiro glances over, “… Unknown..” He reads the screen.
The older hesitates before tapping the answer button. “Yamada Ichiro.”
“Ichi-nii! Whatever they ask, don’t listen! I got th—,” Saburo’s voice comes through the crackly end of the other line and is quickly interrupted.
“Shut up fuckin’ twerp! Yo, yer the leader one right?” An unreadable, husky older voice talks through the line.
Ichiro feels his blood boil, just at the fact that they have Saburo. “Let him go.”
“Ah, ah, that’s not how this works. You want yer stupid little brother,” he says rather childishly, as if to mimic the brothers’ relationship, “you gotta do what we say.”
“What do you want then.” Ichiro deadpans, every nerve in his body on end. He is steeling himself so he isn’t crushing his phone from the pure rage he holds back.
“Ichi-nii, don’t bargain with them! I’m fi- ack! ” Saburo’s reassurance in the background is cut off with the sound of something hard hitting a body, followed by Saburo’s now raggedy, wheezy breathing.
“What the hell are you doing to my brother?!” Jiro suddenly yells, the idea of his younger sibling being hurt making him aggressive.
“He keeps speaking up, the more trouble we’re gonna have. It’s simple really; we want yer mics.” The husky voice is back to striking the deal.
“You took my brother just for that?” Ichiro’s voice is laced with disgust.
“Of course. Not like we can just go up to ya, we don’t stand a fightin’ chance. But y’all have real mics; ones that shouldn’t be in the hands of fuckin’ children! So bring ‘em here to us, and we’ll let yer stupid little brother go.” The devious smirk on the man’s face can be heard through the mixed static of the phone. “How’s that sound?”
The eldest breathes through his nose, staring at the phone screen with his eyebrows furrowed. “Where’s the meeting point.”
“Aniki?!”
“Ichi-nii!”
His brothers yell nearly in unison, but the latter makes another gasping breath after another thud-like sound collides through the phone.
“If you hit him again, I fuckin’ swear—!” Ichiro starts, losing his patience.
“You want him back safely? Find us then.”
The elder stumbles, loops running through his brain. “What?..”
“Ya got twelve hours to find our location, and if ya do, we exchange yer brother for yer mics. If ya don’t, well, he leaves with us to the next country we gotta go to.” The man on the phone chuckles.
“That’s—!”
“I do hope ya figure it out soon, would love to have all three mics. Either way, getting rid of at least one of ya is better than nothin’. Good luuuck, Ya~ma~da’s.” The phone beeps, signaling the call ending.
“A-Aniki!”
“I don’t know how to track his number.” Ichiro says, grip on the phone now vice, his knuckles white. “Any way to find them is all Saburo’s expertise.”
“We gotta find some way!” Jiro runs to the door, quickly slipping his shoes on. “I’m asking some friends! Aniki, send me that number! Try to find something on Saburo’s computer that we can use!”
Ichiro blinks before nodding, “alright, I trust ya to find some way to find him!” He’s not used to seeing Jiro so quickly taking the reins of a problem. He’s glad he cares so much for his brother…
As Jiro leaves their apartment to ask Urumi, Ichiro takes his laptop into Saburo’s room. He doesn’t like to invade his brother’s privacy, but if he can’t find any way to find the youngest on his own laptop, he’ll need to try to maneuver around with Saburo’s. He knows he has many ways of getting info, hopefully he can navigate them enough to get somewhere…
He sends what he can of the caller to Jiro before he begins his own dive. He will not lose his brother.
Not again.
——————
“You don’t know how to shut up, do ya kid?!”
One of the kidnappers; a large, built man, punches their hostage in the stomach. Saburo can barely let out a pained noise, tears trailing down his cheeks, blood flowing from his nose and mouth. He attempts to catch his breath; shaky, hoarse, and fast. He can see them form quick puffs from the cold, ocean air.
He knows they’re in Yokohama somewhere; they’re by the harbor, and it’s not very subtle which city they’re in. The lights and cityscape in the distance are a rather dead giveaway. If only this predicament can be the same, he’d be out of here by now.
The large kidnapper lets him fall to the cold cement ground, a shiver coursing through him. His body feels numb, but at the same time pulsing with pain. His cheek against the cement is a cold contrast to how hot the rest of his body feels. He feels heavy, sticky and warm. It’s almost as if his whole being is weighing him down. He weakly shuffles his arms, trying to move against the restraints securing them behind his back. The strain on his limbs isn’t helping the painful situation.
“Your stupid brother’s ain’t gonna find ya.” The man, who was on the phone with Ichiro, kneels in front of the middle schooler. “We’ll dump yer body in the river.” The man grins sickly at him, already changing the plans for him.
Yet, he can’t bring himself to respond. His jaw hurts. His stomach hurts. Everything hurts…
“You two, go keep an eye out.” Saburo barely registers the kidnapper telling the other two men with him off.
I sent something out… Were we already too far away from Ikebukuro when I sent it? Saburo dully tries to recall. What had happened? His mind is foggy, but…
….
He was arguing with Jiro. Again.
“I’m tired of you always walking home with me after school! I can take care of myself, y’know!”
“I never said ya couldn’t! Just let me do this, huh?!”
They glare at each other, Saburo glazing over Jiro’s underlying confession; that he cares about him.
“How many times do I have to reiterate for your small brain? I’m going home by myself! Leave me alone.” He scoffed at his brother, turning a direction they don’t normally traverse to head home. It would be a longer walk, but he won’t have to walk home with Jiro. That’s what would make his point. … What point?
“I- ugh! Yer so bullheaded!..” Jiro muttered, before Saburo was out of earshot.
“You’re the bullheaded one,” he muttered to himself.
What a stupid reason to split up.
“Don’t you have any friends to walk home with, kid?”
He remembered the voice asking him, but he also recalled ignoring them. He knew enough to not talk with a stranger.
Another mistake on his part.
He didn’t remember much after that. He was grabbed, hit in the head. He remembered these people tying up his arms, but being too stupid to check his belongings. Whenever he came to, he sent a signal out through his phone, with his hands tied against his back. How stupid of these people to leave his phone in his back pocket near his hands.
Then, they brought him by the port; a secluded portion, surrounded by freight containers.
These people called Ichi-nii. They’re using him as a lure for his older brother and Jiro.
He closes his eyes, the smallest of whimpers escaping. He can feel the numb ache of pain growing in his stomach. Maybe there’s a broken rib somewhere after getting punched a few times… One of them punched his face, is that why his eye is sore?
“Y’know, all of you kids havin’ two colored eyes has always been disgustin’ to me.” He recalls one of them saying before hitting him.
A shaky, painful gasp escapes him, choking on saliva in the back of his throat mixed with blood and a sob. “Ichi-nii…”
“Aw, little guy’s callin’ for his brother!” The man who made the call, the one Saburo guesses is the leader, mocks him. “Can’t wait to see the stupid look on that kid’s face when he sees ya like this.” He snickers. The middle schooler winces at hearing it turn into a laugh, barely registering a loud bang! ringing through the port.
The kidnapper stops, turning quickly. He seems to recognize something the younger doesn’t, but he’s too entranced on not throwing up to notice. Another bang sounds, before silence falls over the harbor once more.
Slowly, the point of a gun can be seen from behind the nearest freight container. The kidnapper moves fast, panic striking him as he picks Saburo up roughly by the hood. The younger coughs, breath becoming hoarser.
The owner of the gun rounds the corner, the weapon pointing towards the kidnapper already. The man is hidden by the shadow of the freight container, the only thing visible being the tip of the gun, and sharp blue eyes staring at them, targeting and examining their prey.
The kidnapper quickly pulls a knife from his pocket, bringing it to Saburo’s neck. He lets out a shaky, weak cry, unable to do anything with his arms bound and mic god knows where.
“Come any closer and I slit the kid’s throat!”
“Using a child for your own personal gain. How unabiding.” The stranger’s voice is deep, reverberating off the nearby water and sending tremors through the kidnappers spine.
“Shut up! Yer one to talk, ownin’ guns! Those are just as illegal!”
The stranger shuffles the gun up, visor to his eye to look through and aim.
“ I’ll kill this kid if you move a fuckin’ inch! ” He yells, enraged, the cold blade of the weapon marking Saburo’s neck. The sharp edge digs in enough, causing a bead of blood to pool around the blade’s tip. It drags another sob from the young hostage. Why can't this pain end?
Another loud bang rings in the clearing. This time, it’s enough to bring Saburo out of his pain-filled stupor.
His eyes are wide, the world feeling slow. He swears he can track the bullet as it flies through the air. He watches it come closer.
So close.
If he breathes, if he inhales any air at all, it’s going to hit him.
His mind races.
Is he going to die?
A short gust of wind flies by him, eyes shot wide with shock. He feels the knife on his neck pull away, followed by the disgusting sound of flesh being pushed apart. He falls as the body does.
He takes quick, harsh breaths, hurting to do so, but too stricken with terror to recognize it. He hesitantly turns his head towards his captor. There resides a bullet hole right through the man’s chest; just inches from Saburo’s own head. His mouth dries out, the already dry blood caked on his lips not helping his situation.
That could have been him.
The man from the shadows walks forward finally, the gun being put on his back, held there by a strap.
“Yamada, are you alright?”
The man’s deep voice slowly brings Saburo’s gaze to him. He stares up at the kneeling man, still taller than him. He’s at a loss for words, too stricken by the current circumstance.
It could have been him.
His gaze finds the cement ground once more. He can’t register the man untying the binding on his arms until both his shoulders are being held by large hands.
“Yamada. Yamada?” A pause. “Saburo.”
Saburo blinks, slowly registering his first name. He looks up, just as slowly. His brain starts to recognize where he is; who this is. “… B-Busujima…”
The navy veteran lets out a short, relieved sigh through his nose. “Are you alright?”
Another slow response, but an eventual shake of Saburo’s head. He bites his lip, a whimper coming out once more. He tries to contain himself, but his emotions come crashing down. His fear, relief, pain, overwhelming happiness to be saved…
Saburo tries to move, but instead starts falling. He feels Rio catch him before he hits the cement again, but his walls are already down. His tears feel like lava trailing down his cold, icy cheeks as he sobs. Guttural, emotional wails leave him as everything that just happened comes crashing into him. His body is limp in Rio’s hold as he sobs, hands weakly gripping the ginger’s uniform, leaning into his warm embrace. A safe embrace.
He’s safe.
Arms move around him, holding him protectively as he continues to cry out into Rio’s uniform.
It takes minutes until his shock of emotions ceases. Until he’s finally left a sniffling, bloody and bruised mess. He feels terrible. He feels tired. Yet, deep down, he’s still too shaken and scared to allow himself to rest.
He nearly flinches out of his skin when Rio starts to talk. Having his head on his chest, the older man’s deep voice is much louder and nearly scares him.
“Jyuto? Are you busy?”
“I am, actually,” Saburo can vaguely hear the other member of Mad Trigger Crew on the other end of Rio’s receiver. “What do you need?”
“I need a ride to Ikebukuro.”
“Wh- such an outlandish request… I can’t take you there. I’ll call Samatoki and he can drive you—”
“No.”
Saburo stiffens at his clear response.
“Huh? But?”
“This mission should not have Samatoki in it. I hope you won’t take this request to heart, but he cannot be a part of it.”
“… I,” a sigh from the other end, and probably the police officer pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine. I’ll… I’ll find a way to book a cab to your location.”
“Affirmative. I’ll send you my location. I appreciate your help, Jyuto. I’ll be sure to pay you back once the mission is over.”
“You can pay me back by telling me what the fuck this one is about… When it’s over.” The officer sighs once more through the receiver before his end turns into static.
Saburo watches as Rio hits a few buttons on it. He can probably understand what he’s doing if his head isn’t so foggy from pain.
“Iruma is sending us a cab. I will make sure we are visible to it.” Rio moves to stand, but Saburo’s grip tightens on his uniform. The ginger looks down at him as he shakes.
“Don’t leave me… They’ll find me again…”
The navy veteran stares at him. He takes a few moments to speak, assessing the situation and Saburo’s mindset. “… Can you walk?”
Saburo goes silent, apart from a sniffle.
“Mm… I suppose I was going to have to carry you to the cab anyway. I will try not to move you around too much, you may have something broken.”
Saburo’s brain is moving at half speed, barely registering what he means until he’s already being picked up. His grip finds the front of Rio’s uniform, holding onto it tightly as he stares ahead of himself. He doesn’t even register Rio walking towards a road, where a car can easily pick them up.
“… Wh…” His throat is dry again.
“Hm?” The ginger looks down at him.
“… Why are you helping me?”
Rio only blinks. “Were you not in trouble? I received your signal on a rather empty channel. I am not going to leave you there to be thrown to the bottom of the ocean.”
Ah. So he’s the one who got it… Saburo barely realizes Rio’s words before speaking again. “Even though we’re enemies?..”
“Who ever said we are enemies? You are my rival. That does not mean we cannot truce to find a happy medium. Even if we were enemies, I would not allow one to be tortured in the way you have been.” The navy veteran’s brows furrow slightly. It’s not enough for the middle schooler to notice currently.
Saburo stares at him, before his gaze drifts away, fleeting in and out of consciousness. He doesn’t know how long they stand waiting for the cab, but eventually a single car drives down the road they stand by. The driver’s face is pale at seeing them and he slowly rolls the window down.
“Are… Is this… Are you the one Iruma Jyuto reserved this for?” The driver is hesitant, nervous and scared by the scene of a huge military person holding a bloodied kid.
“Affirmative.” Rio opens the back door to the black car, setting Saburo in the seat first. When seeing the younger barely move, he opts to fasten his seatbelt for him, then close his door. He walks around the back to the other side, sitting in the back so he can keep an eye on the young Yamada. And so he has room for his legs.
“Where… Are you heading sir?”
“Ikebukuro.”
“… That’s… That’s an hour trip…”
“Jyuto will pay for it.” Rio answers easily.
“… Where… Specifically?” The driver continues.
Rio blinks, looking over at Saburo in hopes that he can give an answer.
“Saburo?”
The middle schooler blinks slowly, sleep deprived and in pain, a small sniffle echoing in the quiet car. “… Do you know where Odd Job Yamada’s is?”
“Yes, am I heading there then, sir?”
“Affirmative,” Rio answers in Saburo’s stead, ignoring that the question is directed towards him to begin with.
“It will be a while… Please get comfy…”
————————
An hour drive isn’t long at all. The ride, though, drags on for longer than an hour should feel. The three occupants feel tense and awkward, aside from Rio who seems oblivious to the rigidity of the situation. The driver, at some point, turns the radio on to the soft tunes that play during the night. Both of the division members barely recognize that a song from Matenro is on.
Saburo busies himself by watching the streetlamps pass outside, head leaning against the car window. His body feels horrible, and his brain is losing the adrenaline it had before, the pain becoming clearer by the second. He closes his eyes, the lamps becoming too much for his aching head. He whines, instead moving an arm to loosely rest on the car door, head falling into it.
If he closes his eyes, it’ll go away slowly. He can fall asleep and the pain will subside.
Why won't his heart stop this anxiety inducing pace? He’s safe— right?
He opens his eyes and stares at the dry blood on his sleeve. Is he safe? Will those men come for him again? Rio shot at that man but… It very easily could have been him. He could have died tonight. He would have died tonight if it wasn’t for Rio, but the navy vet gave him a fright as well.
“Saburo.”
His breath hitches, stiffening and lifting his head up at the sound of his name. That deep voice again; it rattles the whole car and sends tremors through his bones.
“Calm down. You’re safe.” A softer cadence to it.
The younger rubs his face, feeling his hands come back wet from his cheeks. Is he crying again? He tries to breathe in, shaky, but has to stop midway as a sharp pain runs through his side as he tries to inhale. He falls back into the seat, biting the inside of his lip. He stares at the ceiling, taking quick, short breaths through his nose. Panic sets in again.
“Here.”
Saburo barely registers Rio handing something to him. He inhales a few more quick breaths before aimlessly grasping around for whatever the ginger is handing him. He isn’t sure if the other moves his hand to meet his or if he finally reaches it himself, but he grasps it now. Lifting his arm enough so he doesn’t need to tilt his head down to look, his features turn disgusted at seeing the can.
“What is this?..” He mumbles.
“It is a recipe of mine. I picked it up on the field. You’re in pain, it will help numb it for the time being, until we can get you home and your brothers can get you to a doctor.” Rio’s response is straightforward.
Saburo sits there, looking at the can. Slowly, he moves forward enough so he can rest his elbows on his knees. Using them as a support, he uncaps the can, taking a cautious sniff. His nose scrunches up. It’s not a fond smell.
Slowly, he puts the can to his lips, tilting back so he can get enough of the liquid in his mouth to determine the taste. It takes a moment, but his movement is quick to take the can away and put the back of his free hand to his mouth to hold it in. It takes a grating minute to attempt swallowing whatever hellspawn of a concoction this is.
“It’s fucking disgusting,” he spits out with more poison than the liquid itself has.
Rio blinks, seeming surprised by his response. “Mm.” He looks forward. “I suppose the taste is not for everyone.” He glances over again. “It will make you feel better though.”
Saburo gives a grimace towards the can, too unmotivated to direct it at the other.
“… I’m sure either of your brothers would drink it.”
That sets something off in Saburo. As much as he hates to admit this thought; he’s right. Ichiro would drink it regardless of how horrid the taste is. Jiro would complain the whole time about it, but he doesn’t back down from a challenge. The youngest brother sighs defeatedly. Hesitantly, he puts the can back to his lips, tilting his head back and trying to down the liquid as quickly as his body allows him.
He coughs and sputters, sticking his tongue out with a “blegh” as the taste simmers on his tongue. Rio glances over with a small smile, followed by a chuckle.
“What’re you laughing at? If I was more unconscious like earlier, I’m sure this would have killed me.” Saburo’s voice sounds raspy in response, mostly due to the terrible drink.
“Mm. I just find your reaction amusing. It reminds me of my own brother.” Rio’s gaze returns forward, looking past the headrest in front of him to watch through the car’s visor.
His words clam Saburo up, though. He has a brother too? Before he can ask, the car slows to a stop, the driver in front of him letting out a relieved sigh.
“W- we’re here!” The driver pipes up, having been quiet the whole ride.
Saburo looks out the window, recognizing the small shop and apartment that belongs to him and his brothers. He hears Rio leave the car, only being taken out of his stare when he walks in front of the car window and opens the door for him.
“Do you need help getting out?”
He weighs his question, before shaking his head. “I- I think I’ll be fine,” he somewhat mumbles, unbuckling himself. He holds the handle above the seat, using it as leverage as he slowly moves his legs to exit the cab. He stumbles slightly before catching his balance, letting go of the handle so he can carefully make his way to the sidewalk. His free hand clutches his stomach.
Rio watches him carefully, ready to help if anything goes awry. He closes the door, continuously glancing at Saburo as he gives the driver Jyuto’s details so he can contact him.
Since he’s more conscious now, he listens in on their conversation, but he doesn’t quite understand how a police officer is able to pay a cab driver later. Or that they even allow such things. Maybe he should do some digging about that, or more on Jyuto.
“Let me help you in.” Saburo flinches at hearing Rio’s voice again. He’s starting to get a little annoyed by how many times he’s scared him now just by talking.
“Okay,” he doesn’t argue though. He rather not have to be the one to talk about what happened; he’s already going to have the brunt of worry and attention on him for the next week from his brothers, he already knows it. Another weight falls onto his shoulders at the thought of being babied by them. Another falls quickly after the thought of having worried them in the first place.
He slowly feels around in his pockets for the key, brows furrowing when coming back empty handed from all of them. Did those kidnappers take it? Or did it just fall out… He looks around, gaze stopping on a tiny ledge above one of the glass windows of the store… Which he knows all of them he’s too short for. Why did they even agree to put it up there? Even if he didn’t have sharp pain coursing through him, getting up there to get it would be annoying.
“… Busujima, can you reach up there? It’s where the spare key is…”
The ginger looks at where he weakly points, easily jumping so he can see enough over the ledge and grabs the key. “This one?” He hands it to Saburo, who chuckles defeatedly at seeing how easy the older one got it.
“Yeah… Thanks, I guess,” he mutters before using the key. He attempts to stop his hand from shaking, having a hard time, but eventually the key goes in and clicks as it’s used, opening the door.
“Pardon the intrusion,” Rio speaks to him, Saburo assumes, since the store is dark and empty of people.
“It’s fine,” the middle schooler brushes it off. He weaves through the shelves stacked everywhere in the store, Rio easily following despite his bigger build. Reaching the back portion of the store, Saburo opens a door, a sign on it reading staff only. It leads to a set of stairs that lead up to where the brothers’ apartment actually is.
Saburo shakily tries to open this door as well, struggling a little more before it opens. He flicks the light on, stumbling in with a pinch of renewed vigor.
“Ichi-nii! I’m…” He trails off, glancing around at realizing no one else is home. “…” A frown forms on his face. Right; they won’t be home. They’re out looking for him. His head hangs as he looks down at his feet, slowly making his way to the couch and sitting on it. Gradually, he lets gravity allow him to fall so he’s laying on the couch, letting out a sigh of relief at how surprisingly comforting it is.
“No one’s home?” Rio takes a glance around. “… Would you like me to leave?”
Saburo shakes his head, clutching the couch cushion under him. “No… I- I don’t want to be alone right now,” he can feel a tremor run through him at the idea of being alone again; at the prospect of what horrors await for him to be by his lonesome before snatching him up again.
“I understand,” Rio answers calmly. He makes his way around the couch, looking down at the younger. “Perhaps, since I will be here for a while, we should get you cleaned up. Please remove your hoodie, it’s bloody. Where is your room?” He looks around at the few doors that the half living room half kitchen has connected to it.
Saburo attempts to sit up, failing as his body finally succumbs to being numb against something comfortable. He raises an arm weakly, “that room… With my name on it… I have more clothes in the top dresser by my bed… Another hoodie would be nice,” he mumbles the last part, not expecting it to be heard.
“Mm. Once again, pardon my intrusion,” he says to Saburo once more. “I won’t be far or long, do not panic.”
The middle schooler hears the sound of his heavy boots walk off against the hardwood floor. He looks tiredly at the night sky through the window. It’s hard to see with the glare from the light of the room. He closes his eyes, taking in Rio’s words. He’s just in the other room. You’re not alone. You’re still safe. He breathes in, then out. His side still hurts, but at least breathing is easier now. Maybe he doesn’t actually have a broken rib like Rio suspects.
“Saburo?” He slowly opens his eyes, meeting the ginger’s gaze as he sits in front of him. He barely noticed how he said his name softer so he wouldn’t jump. “I went into your bathroom for supplies. I forgot to restock the ones I usually carry with me. I acquired a hoodie for you, a blanket, and gauze. I was unable to find anything for cleaning your wounds, but wiping them with water should work for the time being.” He sets the blanket at the empty side of the couch, the jacket over top of it as he looks at him. “Do you need help taking your hoodie off?”
Saburo blinks sleepily. Normally, he can keep up with a conversation that bombards him with this much information, but he underestimates how tired his body truly is. Instead, he hears Rio’s final question the most and nods to answer it. He attempts sitting up again, failing once more.
He feels large, calloused hands carefully help him sit up, holding him by the side. “I will have to raise your arms. Please make me aware if it hurts to do so.” Rio cautions him, but he barely gets a nod in response. The navy vet helps pull the hoodie over his head, getting past his arms with ease. He takes his undershirt off as well since the blood is soaked through and stained the originally white shirt. “Does your side still hurt?” He asks as he reaches down, holding a damp towel that is now in Saburo’s view.
“Not really.. It feels sore, I can breathe now.” He mumbles a response.
“Mm. It may be of better intentions to get an ice pack on it.”
“I don’t want to be cold right now…”
“Then you can put one on later when you are more awake and your brothers are here.” He moves the towel over the faint bruises left by the restrains on his arms. It helps soothe them, Saburo not realizing how bad they were until now. He carefully wraps them up as a precaution with gauze Rio brought out from the bathroom. The younger flinches when the cold towel suddenly touches his face, panic settling as he’s brought out of his daze. “Sorry. Your mouth is still bloody. I’m sure you may have a swollen eye for a few days.” Rio’s monotonous voice starts again, carefully wiping the dried blood off his face. He’s trying his best to get the caked liquid off of him without peeling open any possible cuts on his lips.
Saburo looks at him, watching as the ginger’s eyebrows knit down ever so slowly. Whether it’s from being focused or from something else, he isn’t sure, or conscious enough to care. “You said you have a brother?” He tries to rid the silence of the room before it becomes too much for him.
The older blinks, before giving a small nod. “I do. A younger brother. I would say close to your eldest brother’s age.” He shuffles the towel around in his hand, the side he was using now red with blood residue. Using the clean side, he carefully places it on Saburo’s black and blue eye.
“Does he back you up in being in a division?” Why is he asking so many questions? He can care less.
“…” The pause is longer than Saburo likes. “I… Am unsure.” He keeps the towel on the younger’s eye.
“Why don’t you ask him?”
“Mm. It would be nice to tell him.”
The middle schooler looks at him with his uncovered eye. “Why haven’t you? Or… Is it a secret?”
There’s another long, uncomfortable pause. “He is overseas. My family is in America.”
Right. Rio is half American. “So then… You haven’t seen your brother—”
“Since before the war,” the navy veteran finishes for him. “It isn’t something to concern yourself with.” His eyes glance over to one of Saburo’s shoulders. He unsubtly looks at the scar Saburo bears from the war grounds. How it happened, even he’s not sure. Neither Ichiro nor their poor excuse of a father told him. “It has caused many trifles. Many people were separated,” Rio finishes, taking the towel from his eye.
He sets it on the armrest, reaching over for the fresh hoodie he grabbed from Saburo’s room. He starts by carefully putting the younger’s arms through, then helping pull it down over his head.
He looks at him gently. Before moving away again, he gives Saburo’s hair a slight ruffle. He stands, placing the blanket around him after he’s up.
The middle schooler blinks, not sure how to process the action. It’s very similar to how Ichiro ruffles their hair sometimes, when he’s proud of him and Jiro. Saburo hears his footsteps walk away, throwing the used towel into the sink for now, then heading back over to where he is. He still sits up on the couch with a blanket wrapped around himself, enjoying the warmth of the cover.
“Would you like me to stay nearby?”
Saburo looks up at him, slowly nodding.
Rio gives a hum of affirmation, ready to sit on the couch across from Saburo’s. Something grabs his hand tightly, enough that past his callouses he can feel the squeeze. He looks down, seeing Saburo grasping his hand as if his life depends on it. He says nothing, instead, his grip becomes shaky. The ginger slowly moves back to his couch, sitting in the empty spot on the other side. Saburo nearly falls into him, holding the blanket tightly around himself as he leans into the older man. Rio’s not quite sure what he should be doing… He slowly moves an arm around him, shielding him protectively from the outside world.
Saburo stares at nothing. He’s lost in his head. This feeling is very similar to Ichiro… When he’s comforting him. After something went wrong. After he had a bad day. After he got hurt. After having a rather bad, too serious argument with Jiro.
… Is this what this comfort would feel like if Rei hadn’t abandoned them? If his father was around to care for him? For any of them? Does Ichiro also crave the comfort of a parent? One that all of them want? Is this what it feels like to be safe?
He takes in a shaky breath, closing his eyes and burying his head into the blanket and Rio’s side. Quiet sobs fill the room for a few minutes, until they slowly die out as Saburo finally lets the long day get to him.
———————
It’s well into the late hours of nighttime as Jiro and Ichiro pick up a pace back home. Both brothers are beyond tired, bags slowly forming under their eyes. Their whole night so far has been nothing but dead ends on where to find their missing brother.
“What if we can’t find him?!” Jiro’s nerves began to visibly gnaw at him. “It's all my fault Aniki!”
“Jiro, it’s not your fault, I promise we’ll find him. I’m not losing either of you again.” He rubs his face, quickly scrolling through more information on his phone as they walk down the sidewalk to the apartment. “He has to have something else on that computer that I can use.”
“All my leads led to dead ends,” Jiro puts a hand to his head, looking at the side of the curb. He purses his lips at deeming himself so useless, his mind insulting himself.
“Mine did too.” He unlocks and opens the door as they make it to the shop, both kids weaving through their storage. “We have some time still… If they were serious about that twelve hours limit,” he mumbles the last part, hoping it was true. He blinks, stopping when seeing the door to their apartment open a crack, light shining through.
Jiro runs into him, causing both to stumble. “S- sorry— h- hey! The light’s on!”
“Shh, get your mic out,” he whispers to Jiro, hoping he didn’t already alert whoever is inside. “We can’t take chances.” Shuffling his phone into his pocket and pulling out his mic instead, he slinks towards the door with Jiro following his stead.
The eldest peeks in, paling when seeing the back of someone’s head sitting on the couch. All he can see from the door is ginger hair and that the figure is broad. Jiro leans forward, attempting to peek in with him. He stumbles as he leans too far, upsetting his balance and taking a few loud steps forward to catch himself, pushing the door open more in the process.
Ichiro stiffens as the man on the couch’s head quickly turns to them. He hears the sound of a knife flicking open, sharp, blue eyes staring at them with a look ready to kill.
“Rio?!” Jiro says in surprise, recognizing the navy vet’s face before Ichiro does.
The ginger calms rather quickly when assessing that it’s the brothers, his one arm shuffling to close the knife he had pulled out of one of his many pockets, hiding it away as quickly as he pulled it out. He blinks a moment, calming himself down at how quickly he was ready to attack an intruder.
Well, he’s the intruder.
“Pardon my intrusion,” he tries not to speak too loud in fear of waking Saburo up. “I found your youngest brother.”
He doesn’t get to continue as both Ichiro and Jiro disregard their previous assertiveness, running over so they can look in front of the couch. There Saburo sleeps, comfortably wrapped up in a blanket. With a black and blue eye.
“Saburo!” Both brothers yell in unison.
Rio moves his arm away from the younger as he starts to stir, whining. He sits up, rubbing his eyes, wincing as he touches his sore, bruised one. He blinks a few times when seeing both his siblings there.
“I- Ichi-nii! Jiro!” Thankfully, he doesn’t have to stand up to embrace them as they kneel down and pull him close.
“I’m glad you’re back safe!” Ichiro holds him tightly, never wanting to let go.
“I didn’t mean ta push ya away!” Jiro says into Saburo’s other ear, giving a way too tight squeeze.
The youngest, getting bombarded with over relieved brotherly love, wheezes. “I- I appreciate that from you two, b- but that hurts!”
They both blink before letting go. Ichiro is quick to hold his arms gently, looking at him like an overprotective mother. “You’re hurt? Where? What happened?! Do we need to get you to a hospital?!”
Saburo whines at the onslaught of questions, his head starting to throb already.
“I found him on the harbor in Yokohama.”
They all turn their heads to look at Rio, who is still sitting on the couch beside Saburo despite the touching reunion. The youngest is deep down relieved that he’s telling them the story so he doesn’t have to.
“He was a hostage. He received a swollen eye and possibly a broken rib. If possible, it would be best to check and make sure that is not the case. We took a cab here and have been here since 0100 hours.”
“Eh? That’s… Huh?” Jiro stumbles.
“It’s three, Jiro,” Ichiro helps.
“We’ve been here for two hours. The car ride was an hour alone though,” Saburo mumbles, Jiro’s stupidity, as he would call it, adding to his already tired state. Especially after being rudely awakened. Despite that, he’s glad to see his brother’s again. He’s glad that both of them are worried. He rubs his eye again, this time only his non-swollen one. “Can I go back to sleep?” He mutters tiredly.
“Do you want me to take you to yer room?” Jiro offers, looking at Saburo worriedly.
He only shakes his head, leaning back on Rio, who stiffens unexpectedly at that.
“Saburo, the couch,” he tries to offer the younger the, most definitely, more comfortable cushion. He doesn’t move. Rio blanks; he can’t stay here all night. He doesn’t have the heart to push him away either.
“Don’t worry, I got him,” Ichiro says to the older man. He carefully, gently pulls at Saburo’s shoulder and upper arm, helping him instead lay down to the other side of the couch.
“Thank you,” Rio says, getting up before the younger can attempt to sleep “walk” back to his side.
“I should be the one thanking you,” he says with a weak chuckle. “I was so worried…” He looks at Saburo, a wave of pure relief obvious on his face. “I guess I owe ya one, MTC.”
Rio looks between the three brothers. He eventually bows at them, then standing straight before he speaks. “You don’t owe me anything. I’m happy to return him safely to you. Please make sure this doesn’t happen again, he seems frightened of the prospect of being alone.” He looks at the sleeping middle schooler once more. “I will return at a later date, I must go find his mic and clean up the mess I left.”
“Busujima.”
He looks at Ichiro, both men staring at each other.
“Come over once in a while, yeah?” He sends a thankful smile towards the ginger.
Rio blinks. He gives a firm nod before turning to leave.