Chapter 9
From the way Tadashi fussed over Hiro, it was clear that he thought his younger brother needing looking after. Hiro didn’t like it, because it made him feel so young again, so weak and dependent and pathetic. But it was just easier to let Tadashi do whatever he felt he needed to do, to make himself feel better again. Reminding Tadashi so cruelly that he hadn’t always been the perfect big brother… It was still resonating with him. The guilt trip hadn’t just worked; it was still going. Tadashi was doing everything from making Hiro’s bed, to making him breakfast, to loaning him some of his own nice clothes, even though he was probably well aware that he would never see them again.
Hiro curled up on a soft couch in the living area, fresh from a shower and with nothing else to do. At least not yet. He’d emailed Takahiro the night before, asking to meet with him tomorrow – a Saturday. He hadn’t received Takahiro’s reply until early that morning, but it was an affirmative one. Hiro had said great and picked a time and location for them to meet.
Now all he had to do was wait.
Hiro glanced up at his brother from his phone. He couldn’t quite tell if Tadashi was just itching to get back to his important work, or if he was nervous about something else. Tadashi hadn’t really left him alone ever since he’d gotten up; he hung around like a fly, always pacing from wall to wall aimlessly. It was starting to get annoying. But he wouldn’t leave because he felt obligated to be there.
“Just go do your own thing for a while,” Hiro told him dismissively. “I’ll let you know when we’re leaving. I’ll give you a… twenty-minute warning.”
Hiro smirked. Tadashi didn’t.
-------
Hiro hadn’t told Takahiro ahead of time that he wasn’t coming alone. But the look that overcame Takahiro’s face the second he saw Tadashi made Hiro think that maybe he should’ve at least mentioned it.
He had to be the one to bridge the gap between them on the street. As soon as Takahiro had laid eyes on them, he’d just stopped in his tracks. Hiro tried smiling. “Hey. Glad you made it. Did you have school this morning? I hear some more traditional schools do the half-day thing on Saturdays, and I wasn’t sure…”
Why was he talking. Takahiro wasn’t listening to him; he was just staring wide-eyed at Tadashi.
“You remember my brother, right?” Hiro asked, stepping aside so that they could come together. “Tadashi Hamada?”
Tadashi stepped forward, and Hiro was surprised to see that he was actually smiling. For all that Tadashi had been reluctant to go along with his brother’s plans – he was constantly holding them up on the way there, always trying to distract Hiro, trying to convince him to change his mind and do something else – he still looked so happy to see Takahiro again. He didn’t just give Takahiro a hello and a stiff handshake; he swept the boy up into a hug and told him how big he’d grown. He’d gone from familiar-looking stranger to old friend, just like that.
They walked into a small café nearby. As Tadashi paid for everyone’s lunch, Tadashi asked Takahiro all of the questions it hadn’t even occurred to Hiro to ask: how was his dad, how was school, how old was he now, what was he thinking of doing next year… Things that only Tadashi would’ve thought to ask.
Hiro didn’t have very much to contribute to their conversation. He sat there at their little corner table, eating and drinking, barely listening, as Takahiro and his own brother chatted, like… like they couldn’t even remember the circumstances in which they’d last seen each other. Takahiro laughed like he couldn’t remember being dragged kicking and screaming out of Tadashi’s house by the abusive woman who had almost become his stepmother, and Tadashi told jokes like he couldn’t remember watching it all happen. It was strange.
After about twenty minutes, Hiro was starting to get sick of it. His brother still talked as energetically as he had when he first greeted Takahiro, like he could carry a conversation until the café closed. Until the day ended. Until the world ended. Hiro had already had a sandwich, a coffee, and a milkshake, and the other two had barely finished their first round yet.
He got agitated. He kept trying to find pauses in the conversation, just one single place he could cut in and ask what he had come to ask. But, every time he seemed to find an opportune break, Tadashi would always start a new story or come out with a new question.
Hiro glowered at him. He couldn’t help but wonder if maybe his brother was doing it deliberately –keeping Takahiro’s attention long enough for Hiro to just give up on the interrogation and go home, like Tadashi had wanted from the very start, and just the mere possibility riled Hiro in a way that made him want to destroy the furniture.
Fuck it. He wasn’t waiting anymore. He wasn’t going to put up with it. He wasn’t going to politely wait for an opening; he cut in halfway through his brother’s stupid salmon story no one wanted to hear to say, “Takahiro, tell him.”
The table fell silent. Tadashi closed his mouth with a resigned sigh and went to sip at his cold coffee, his eyes down. Traces of Takahiro’s familiar vitality had come back to him as he talked, but they were all gone now. His wide smile fell away, his bright eyes faded back to dull and reticent. “What?”
Hiro shot him a pleading look. “Tell Tadashi what you told me yesterday. About her.”
Takahiro seemed to get it, from the way his eyes opened a little. Hiro knew that that boy understood what he meant.
So then why was Takahiro playing dumb?
“I still don’t…” Takahiro shook his head, looking between the two brothers. “What?”
“What you said, yesterday,” Hiro stressed, leaning over the table towards him. He noticed Takahiro lean away. “You told me that she – Cass – had abused you. Didn’t you?”
“Hiro, lower your voice,” Tadashi murmured, petrified.
“Tell him, Takahiro. It’s OK.”
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about…”
Hiro stared at him. He didn’t understand. Why was this happening? Why was this kid trying to make him seem crazyin front of his older brother, who already thought that he was crazy enough as it was? From the way Takahiro started to shrink in his chair – it was like he thought the look from Hiro was withering.
He felt his brother put a hand on his shoulder. It wasn’t a soothing or comforting gesture; it was supposed to communicate something like ‘cut it out’.
“Taka-kun,” Tadashi said gently, his smile faltering as he leaned towards him. Hiro was actually surprised to see that his brother was attempting to help him. He supposed Tadashi didn’t want his younger brother to be crazy any more than Hiro did. “It’s OK, Taka-kun. If there’s… anything you want to tell us, you can. We’ll listen. If… If it’s true what Hiro says,” He turned a stiff look in his brother’s direction, “and… something did happen, when you were staying with our Aunt Cass, then… well, you shouldn’t have to keep it to yourself. You won’t get into trouble. Nothing will happen unless you want it to. But… you should tell someone.”
Hiro felt a little thrill of satisfaction go through him. That must’ve worked, he thought. If there was one thing Tadashi was good at, it was reassurance. It was calmly drawing the truth out of people, and Hiro was positive that that had been enough to end Takahiro’s sudden attack of cold feet.
He turned back to the boy, settling a severe, expectant gaze on him. Tell him, he pleaded with his eyes, Please just tell him, c’mon, tell Tadashi what a horrible awful lady she was, tell him everything, this is it, c’mon, tell him…
“Um…” Takahiro gulped. He looked right into their eyes and shrugged. “Nothing happened.”
…Nothing happened?
A sound like a sharp intake of breath came from Hiro. Liar, his mind accused.
“Takahiro, don’t be afraid,” Hiro asserted, placing a hand over one of Takahiro’s on the table. It tried to move away, but Hiro forced it to hold still. Their fingers squeaked against the polished surface. “Tell us, Takahiro. Tell us everything that happened.”
“Nothing happened,” Takahiro denied. He looked so angry in his face but he was trembling against the table. “I told you nothing happened.”
“But you told me something did.”
“Hiro.” Tadashi grabbed Hiro’s arm and yanked it away from the table, allowing Takahiro to take his hand back. “What’s gotten into you,” Tadashi exclaimed. He was glaring at Hiro, but Hiro wasn’t paying him any attention; he was fixing Takahiro with a stare that was now definitely withering. The chair legs grated against the floor as Takahiro threatened to leave. “He said nothing happened,” Tadashi mumbled firmly. “Just calm down, OK, because you’re making a scene.”
Hiro turned his cold eyes onto some of the surrounding tables. They weren’t trying very hard not to stare, those chatty tables full of family and friends who were now drinking their coffees and eating their pastries in absolute silence. Nosy, Hiro thought.
No longer pinned beneath Hiro’s glower, Takahiro hastily got to his feet and threw his duffel bag over his shoulder. “Um, thanks for the coffee, Tadashi,” he murmured, and then he was out the door.
Oh no, Hiro thought, holding back a sneer. No, he wanted to have a talk with Takahiro. He abandoned his brother, despite the stern warnings to stay put, and he raced after the kid into the street, turning every which way for him. But the kid was fast – or perhaps he was very good at hiding amongst the lazy weekend crowd. He was nowhere in sight.
Tadashi nearly slammed into him like a football player; Hiro just managed to catch his balance before he could crash to the pavement. “Ow,” he whined, and then wished that he’d saved his ow for when his brother wrapped an arm around him and hauled him off into a narrow alley. When he was put back down again, the back of his head hit a wall. It was still bruised and tender from the other night, when the thugs had roughed him up, and his cry of pain sounded a hell of a lot more aggressive than he’d intended it to.
He recovered and tried to run out, back onto the street, but a hand knocked him back. “No,” Tadashi said sternly. “You’re not following him.”
“I have to talk to him!”
“No, Hiro.” Hiro was pushed back into the wall yet again. He refused to keep still; he gave his brother no choice but to hold him there. “We have to talk. What the fuck is wrong with you?Why won’t you listen? Why can’t you just leave this poor boy alone?”
“Look, I know this looks bad,” Hiro said, prompting a mirthless laugh from Tadashi, because – yeah, it did look bad. “I know I look fucking insane right now but, Tadashi, I’m not. He’s just shy! He just doesn’t want to tell you because, I don’t know – at times you were just as big a bitch as she was.”
Tadashi gave his brother a look then that Hiro was sure meant he was going to end up with a bloody, broken nose. But Tadashi had never once raised a hand to his younger brother, and it was clear he wasn’t going to now.
Much to Hiro’s surprise, Tadashi backed off and let go of him.
“You need help again, Hiro,” Tadashi said, no longer shouting, and he ran a hand over his face like he was exhausted. “This… This isn’t working. You’re not OK. You should go back to your therapist, tell him everything that’s… I knew, I just… You’re not fine, Hiro.” Tadashi started shaking his head, like he didn’t want it to be true. “You say you are, but you’re not, you’re… Please, just stay away from Takahiro. Don’t ruin his life. Don’t turn him into you. Whether nothing happened, or he wants to forget – just let him.”
“I’ll send it to you,” Hiro insisted, as if that would make everything better, and he watched his brother crumble. He saw it happen, but he wasn’t taking any of it in. “I’ll send you the conversation we had last night. I’ll show you what he told me.”
“Don’t,” Tadashi groaned. “I don’t want… I…” He sighed. From beneath his fingers, Tadashi made a face like he was just breaking. “I… I can’t deal with this right now, Hiro, I just…” He took his hand away to glimpse his brother once – just once, and that was all it took. That was all he needed to just turn around and walk away. “I’m going home. I’ve got work to do… I’ll… I’ll call you later.”
Hiro watched the second person that day just walk away from him, and he tried not to feel it, deep in his heart. He didn’t know which person he hated more. Takahiro or Tadashi. It was hard to remember how much of a cute kid Takahiro had once been. It was hard to remember that Tadashi loved him, really.
“Cowards,” Hiro muttered angrily and started his way home.
-------
When Hiro got back, he immediately sat down at his computer. He brought up the chatbox he’d left open from the night before. Takahiro wasn’t back online, if his status could be trusted, but that didn’t stop Hiro from putting his thoughts down exactly as they came to him.
HIRO: What the hell, kid?
HIRO: What the actual hell?
HIRO: Do you just enjoy dicking me around or?
HIRO: Were you scared?
HIRO: Why didn’t you tell Tadashi what you told me?
HIRO: Huh?
HIRO: Why?
HIRO: Why?
HIRO: Why?
HIRO: Why?
TAKA: Leave me alone.
Hiro paused. Takahiro was offline, but he still replied. He could still read every word. He was just hiding. It made Hiro a little happy, and it made him a little more furious with him.
HIRO: Just tell me why you said nothing happened.
HIRO: Scroll up and you’ll fucking SEE what you told me yesterday.
TAKA: I shouldn’t have said anything.
HIRO: No c’mon, don’t be like that…
HIRO: Don’t you remember what I said to you? Years and years ago?
HIRO: I said that you could tell me anything and I’d believe you.
TAKA: You said a lot of things…
Hiro had absolutely no idea what that meant. But it worried him.
He wondered if Takahiro had signed off, officially. But the boy wrote again moments later without prompting.
TAKA: You really want to know why I didn’t say anything?
HIRO: YES!!!
TAKA: Fine.
There was a long wait between Takahiro’s last message and his next one. Hiro stared at the little writing-pencil icon as Takahiro typed out his message. He was tapping his fingers, bouncing his leg. He was literally hanging on the edge of his seat, waiting.
When the next message popped up, Hiro held his breath.
TAKA: When I saw you had your brother with you, I panicked. I only kind of remembered Tadashi but as soon as I saw his face a lot of memories came back. And not very nice ones. I remember being really scared and upset… There’s was a lot of yelling and crying, whenever you and he were around. And especially when you were around Cass…
TAKA: I got this particular memory stuck in my head. But I don’t remember it well…
HIRO: What is it?
TAKA: It was morning… Someone got me out of bed and then there was just SCREAMING. All three of you were there. Cass told me that something horrible had happened… That… someone had done something… unforgivable…
Hiro couldn’t feel his body.
TAKA: I hadn’t slept well, I don’t think. I had this bad dream where a monster tried to squeeze the life out of me. Like a hug that had turned into a chokehold. I still kind of have it sometimes… It’s like a weird recurring nightmare. Just this gross, sobbing beast who tried to smother me…
He was going to be sick.
TAKA: And I remember I didn’t have any pants on that morning either…
TAKA: Haha did I ever sleep with pants on?
TAKA: Weird.
TAKA: …
TAKA: Hiro?
HIRO: brb
Hiro backed away from his desk, shaking uncontrollably. He had to get away from his computer. If he couldn’t make it to the bathroom, then he had to try to make it to the sink – he threw himself across the room and lunged for it, just in time to throw up all of that nice food from the café. Bile burned in his throat, the sounds of his retching and the stench just made him feel even more nauseous. He was vaguely aware that he still had plates in the bottom of his sink, but he couldn’t – he didn’t fucking care.
He wanted it to stop. He didn’t want it to be real. He wanted to wake up to find that this was all just a sick, horrific nightmare. His head was screaming, his body felt so weak and vile. He knew what Takahiro’s memory was, and the fact that his mind drew a blank where he needed to focus it most just filled Hiro with so much dread that he felt like his legs were going to give out at any second. He clutched at his kitchen counter, trying to find something to latch onto as he started to fall, but there was nothing. There was nothing to hold him up, nothing to support him, nothing to keep him from falling…
He had hoped that as he collapsed to the floor, he’d somehow be jolted awake. Back to reality. But he opened his eyes and nothing had changed. He was still… a pathetic, miserable excuse of a human being, lying like a piece of trash on a kitchen floor that hadn’t been cleaned in weeks.
From his bedroom, he could hear his computer give a little ding as another message appeared in the chatbox. And another and another. Hiro just continued to lay on the floor, trying to keep himself together, trying to think of a way out, and he sobbed.
The question kept running through his mind, over and over again, each and every time paired with an unutterable answer.
What am I?
(A monster)