House Always Wins

Prologue

She did not want to hate her mother. Afterall, what child wants that? A mother they hate? And yet, Yuki was thirteen years old when she had started to feel disdain for her mother. She was fourteen when she detested that woman.

She could recall the night her childhood truly ended in perfect clarity. The night she stopped being a normal teenager and became a guardian, a provider, a parent. When her role as big sister that did it all was cemented into the very essence of her being.

The night had been calm and clear. The stars blinking softly, blissfully indifferent to the world below. A gentle breeze rustled the curtains, letting in the scent of late summer. Crisp cool air, pavement still warm from the day, and the faintest trace of cigarette smoke clinging to the walls of her childhood home.

When she was a little girl, Yuki had slept like the dead, but grief had a funny way of turning her sleep against her. It had sharpened her sleep into something else, something restless, something vigilant. It had become the kind of sleep where she was always half-wake, waiting for the other shoe to drop, listening for a baby's cry, a child's nightmare, a mother stumbling in the dark.

The house had been still that night. Unusually so. 

Yuki had shifted under her blanket, staring at her ceiling, waiting for the familiar sounds of the night. The soft creak of floorboards under her mother's unsteady steps, the frantic rustling of her reaching for another drink or the lighter. But there had been nothing but silence. Too much of it. It was uncanny and it did nothing but put her on edge.

So, when their front door clicked open, she heard it immediately.

Renji, only nine at the time, stirred when Yuki had started to get out of bed. It had been a full year since either he or Haru slept in their own separate beds. Their nightmares were too awful and only at bay when their big sister was around. Ren blinked up from beside her, his dark eyes wide and uncertain. "...Mom?" He asked, his voice quiet, but the fear in it was enough to send a sharp pang through Yuki's chest. "It's nothing, don't worry. I'm just going to go get some water, I'll check everything before I come back up. Okay?" She whispered back to him, lest she wake her other two babies. Ren started shaking his head, his hand reaching out to Yuki's. "Relax," she started, "I got it, you go back to sleep." She pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. Yuki had soothed him back to sleep. He settled back and when she was sure he was asleep she'd made sure her other younger brother, Haru, was also sound asleep.

She'd carefully slipped out of her room, moving so as not to scare Ren, who was asleep again. Haru was sprawled across the other side of the bed, and Nao, too small to know anything was wrong, slept soundly in her crib. Yuki's heart rate had been steadily increasing as she made her way silently through the hall and down the staircase, her bare feet making no sound against the wood.

Their house smelled cleaner than usual, like the fresh air had finally pushed out the stale scent of smoke and alcohol for the first time in months. Yuki, optimistic idiot that she was, had wanted to believe that this was a good sign, that maybe her mother was getting better. That night, she had tucked them in, pressing a lingering kiss to each of their foreheads, whispering goodnight. It was something she hadn't done since their father died.

It wasn't until Yuki had made it downstairs that she saw her.

Her mother stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the moonlight, a small suitcase already waiting outside the door. Her hand hovered over the handle, fingers trembling.

Yuki's stomach twisted and her heart pounded in her ears.

"Mom?" Her voice barely rose above a whisper.

Her mother stilled, but didn't turn around right away. When she finally did, her face was streaked with silent tears. She had tried, Yuki knew that. She hadn't touched a drink today, hadn't smoked. She had tucked them in, one by one, smoothing their blankets like she used to when Dad was still alive.