My Family

Chapter 2

Hanagaki Takemichi, everyone agrees, is the sun incarnate, he can become friends with absolutely anyone. His laughter was infectious, inciting warm fuzziness in pretty much any and everyone.

And Izana fucking hates it.

Over the past few days, since their disaster 'family dinner' it had become increasingly clear that Takemichi was evading him. The signs were little here and there – but all were incredibly significant in some way or another.

Takemichi would stay out late at night, no doubt attending Toman rallies, and would conveniently miss the times when Izana and his mother would visit the Hanagaki household.

Planning dates for the upcoming wedding, looking at venues and guestlists.

And when he did finally catch Takemichi after his classes at the school gates, he would always have an expression of a feral cat, hackles raised, and on the verge of hissing at him. The tension thick in the air, it was awkward, uncomfortable even, and Takemichi always ended up high tailing it before Izana could even say 'hello'.

It was getting increasingly frustrating.

And all Izana could think of was that the younger teen was a brat.

He's a fucking brat.

That's the first thing Izana noticed about Hanagaki Takemichi long before their parents met – he's a fucking brat, arrogant, whiny, pathetic and weak and full of problems, and in the beginning, he wants to hit him, and yell at him, snarl at him, and show him through angry words and actions just how much of a fucking disgrace he is.

How can someone like this capture Mikey's attention, how can someone as weak as him be compared to his dearly departed brother, how can he be the inner strength for all of Toman.

And one day, when Takemichi doesn't get the opportunity to wriggle out of having dinner with their parents, he does. They're washing the dishes side-by-side and the kid does something, says something, slides past him to reach for another dirty plate with a wary smile and a cheesy joke on his lips, and Izana raises his fist and snarls; everything stops.

Because the kid cowers away from him, soapy hands raised defensively, eyes wide and scared, but he doesn't run, he doesn't call for help, he just – stands there.

Looking at him, trembling. And the kid might be soft, might be weak, but he doesn't back away, he never does, and Izana can't bring himself to hit the blonde, not when he's staring at him like he can't remember the difference between good and bad attention, between a kind touch or violent touch, and Izana is so lost, he's out of his depth.

So, he brings his hand down, and the blonde cringes again, preparing for pain, but instead of hitting him, he touches the side of his face lightly, and his entire body seizes up like he doesn't know how to react.

It's – sort of heart-breaking.

He touches him softly, and Takemichi shakes, hands still shielding himself. He touches him and the blonde quivers, mouth dropping open, hands lowering. He continues to touch him softly, and he sighs, eyes fluttering shut, wet hands falling to his sides, and he wraps an arm around the eccentric blondes' shoulders and pulls him close to his chest, thumb still brushing against his cheek.

"Hush," he says, and Takemichi jumps at the noise, skittish. "I'm not gonna hit you."

His 'little brother' makes an odd noise and his forehead thumps against his chest, hiding his face from Izana.

"When was the last time someone touched you?" Izana asks, voice quiet, and the other shrugs loosely, hands sneaking up to press against his chest, fingers curling like he wants to keep him there forever.