The Eyes of a Child: Chapter 04

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The first thing Misaki saw when he opened his eyes was a white ceiling. For a moment, he wondered if he’d died. He moved his hand. It moved. The moment he did, a sharp pain shot through the back of his right hand. When he looked, he saw an IV drip connected to it. Misaki pressed his forehead with his left palm and let out a sigh. Slowly, his awareness of the situation began to return.

He had been at a construction site, hauling bags of concrete on a handcart, when his foot gave out and he collapsed. Someone had rushed over in concern, and he had replied, “I’m fine, I can still work.” Even though it had been nighttime, the site was brightly lit with floodlights, but the light had gradually dimmed, and in the end, everything went black. He remembered nothing after that.

He turned his face to the right with another sigh, and was startled to see someone there. Hitoshi, wearing the worn-out T-shirt he used as pajamas, was staring at him in silence. Just staring, he didn’t say a word.

Footsteps could be heard growing closer. The pale cream curtain that divided the space slid open with a shff.

“Oh, Mr. Kashiwabara. You’re awake.”

A nurse in a white coat, holding a clipboard, smiled warmly at Misaki.

“Let me check your temperature and blood pressure, okay? I think the doctor will explain everything later, but the cause of your collapse was mostly overwork.”

“…I see.”

Misaki remained still as she took his blood pressure, his eyes fixed on her pale, slender fingertips.

“You have a son admitted on the third floor, don’t you, Mr. Kashiwabara?”

The white uniform seemed familiar, apparently, he had been brought into the same hospital where his son was staying.

“Your friend here’s been so worried, he stayed right by your side the whole time. You’re still young, you know. Don’t push yourself so hard.”

With those parting words, the nurse left the room.

“What a joke…”

The words came out like a muttered soliloquy, not directed at Hitoshi.

“Working myself until I pass out, what a joke. I’m such an idiot, I don’t even know when to stop. And now I’m in the hospital too, racking up bills we can’t afford. I really am no good…”

“I…”

Hitoshi suddenly cried out.

“I don’t want food!”

Tears fell from his eyes like a waterfall. His face scrunched up as he started to bawl, loudly and openly. Worried others might be in the room, Misaki panicked and shouted, “Don’t cry!” But Hitoshi didn’t hear him.

“If I don’t eat, then we don’t need money. That way you won’t have to work!”

He wiped his face roughly with his clenched fists.

“I’ll work too. I’m big enough, I can work. Then you won’t have to anymore!”

His logic was flawed, talking about not eating or working as a child, but the earnestness in his voice was painfully clear. Misaki had always told himself he had to take care of everything, because he was the parent. That he couldn’t rely on anyone, couldn’t burden anyone. And he had pushed himself so far that he collapsed, so far that Hitoshi was now saying he’d go without food.

The situation was miserable, and yet something about it was absurd enough to make Misaki chuckle.

“The amount you eat doesn’t even make a dent. I need way more money than that, that’s why I’m working. Don’t worry about what you eat. Besides, if you stop eating, you’ll die.”

“I don’t care if I die.”

Hitoshi clutched the bedsheet, trembling.

“If you die, then I’ll die too!”

The tears that had finally stopped started up again as Hitoshi threw himself at Misaki, sobbing uncontrollably.

“…Sorry for making you worry.”

As Misaki stroked Hitoshi’s head, he forced himself to suppress the emotions shaking inside his chest. He wanted, more than anything, to cry right alongside him. But he had made a vow, he would never cry in front of the child. He bit his lip hard and held back the tears that threatened to spill.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

It had been around midnight when Misaki was rushed to the hospital, and when he first woke up, it was two in the morning. After that, he fell back into a deep, dreamless sleep and didn’t open his eyes again until just before noon. In a panic, he called Oyassan to ask for the day off. Oyassan simply said, “Figured you wouldn’t show today,” in his usual unbothered tone. But when Misaki mentioned he was calling from the hospital, the old man’s tone changed completely, he was shocked and pressed Misaki for details. When he explained what had happened, Oyassan shouted, “What kind of fool works himself until he collapses? If it's money, I’ll get it for you!”, genuinely angry, genuinely worried. And that alone made Misaki feel deeply grateful. It meant a lot to know someone cared enough to be mad.

He was discharged that same day and, for the first time in ages, spent the day lounging around the house. The experience had taught him, painfully and personally, that pushing himself too far only led to disaster. So he made a firm decision to quit his night job. As for the money, he had one possible lead, if only a small one.

Two days after his own hospital ordeal, Jotaro underwent surgery. It went quickly and smoothly, and Misaki finally allowed himself to breathe easy.

On a bright Sunday five days after the operation, Misaki boarded an express train with Hitoshi. That morning, when he told Hitoshi they were going on a trip, the boy had practically leapt for joy. All the way to the station, he fidgeted with excitement, asking again and again, “Where are we going?”

The train wasn’t crowded, plenty of empty seats, and Hitoshi took full advantage, sprawling across the seats, swinging from the hand straps, playing like he was in his own private playground. When it’s a child acting up, people call it playful or cute. But if a full-grown adult did the same, people would just think he was crazy. Misaki could feel the glances around them growing sharper, more judgmental, and finally told Hitoshi to sit still. Hitoshi obeyed without complaint, sitting across from Misaki, though he pouted and stared listlessly out the window.

But when the train switched to a single-track line, Hitoshi perked up. He leaned into the narrow window frame, pressing his face against the glass as he peered outside. His expression shifted from curiosity to wonder, and then, beaming from ear to ear, he turned to Misaki.

“I know this place! I’ve been through here before! A little farther ahead, Grandma and Grandpa’s house is there!”

His eyes sparkled as he looked up at Misaki.

“Do we get to see Grandma and Grandpa?”

“Yeah,” Misaki said.

Hitoshi threw his arms in the air with a loud “Yay!” From that moment on, he was all smiles, staring out the window with childlike delight.

Finally, they reached their stop. The unmanned station sat on a hill, and no one else got off with them. Misaki reeled from the temperature difference, the frigid air-conditioning of the train versus the oppressive heat outside, but Hitoshi didn’t seem to mind. He dashed across the sunbaked platform, then tore down the long, steep staircase ahead. Misaki, unable to keep up with his energy, followed at a slower pace. The concrete stairs were littered with shriveled earthworms, baked dry and black by the heat. Just knowing it was hot enough to kill worms made sweat pour down Misaki’s back.

Even after descending the stairs, there was still a short walkway before they reached the road. On both sides of it, tall sunflowers bloomed in dense, golden clusters.

“Come on, come on!” Hitoshi called, waving from between the flowers.

The sunlight was intense, almost blinding. Misaki lifted a hand to shield his eyes as he walked. Hitoshi couldn’t wait, he kept dashing ahead, stopping to wave him on, then running forward again.

As they passed through the wall of yellow, the sea came into view beyond the road. A warm wind blew in from the coast, carrying the scent of salt. The asphalt was so hot his shoes sank slightly into it with each step. In the distance, heat shimmered on the road like a mirage. A passing truck stirred up a blast of hot, dusty air that brushed Misaki’s face with a stinging mix of grit and heat.

As the wooden, single-story house came into view, Hitoshi stopped looking back. In the small vegetable patch in front of the house, an elderly woman with a towel draped around her neck was bent over, tending the soil. Hitoshi called out loudly to her back.

“Grandmaaa!”

The old woman slowly lifted her head and tilted it in puzzlement.

“Grandma, your face got so wrinkly!”

She squinted her eyes and wiped the sweat from her brow with the towel.

“Um, excuse me, but… who might you be?”

“Did you forget? It’s me, Hitoshi!”

Her expression changed completely. Her wrinkled face crumpled with emotion as she rushed to embrace her grandson.

“Hitoshi… Hitoshi. Oh, you’ve grown so big. Well, of course you have, it’s been years, hasn’t it… You’ve really grown.”

Hitoshi threw his arms around her, beaming with joy.

Finally catching up, Misaki reached them and gave Hitoshi’s shoulder a light tap as he clung to their grandmother.

“I need to talk to Grandma. Go play in the backyard.”

“Okaay!”

Hitoshi replied with a loud, cheerful voice and ran off toward the back. Misaki gently placed a hand on their grandmother’s stooped back, still hunched even after standing, and softly murmured, “I’m home.”

◇:-:◆:-:◇

They sat on the veranda and talked. About his brother, whose memories had regressed to around the age of six, and about his son’s surgery. The shrill cries of cicadas echoed through the garden, the ice in their barley tea melted, and droplets of water gathered on the outside of their glasses.

“I used to hate my brother,” Misaki said. “There was all that stuff with Megumi, too. But… I don’t know, now I just can’t bring myself to hate him anymore. He’s all clingy with me now, and he listens when I talk. He’s… cute, you know?”

His grandmother listened in silence, but then, suddenly, she covered her eyes with a hand towel.

“There’s no need to cry,” Misaki said. “Sure, it sucks that Hitoshi suddenly turned into a child, but I’ll take care of him. I really will.”

“That child’s had a hard life…” she whispered, tears silently falling.

“I’ve never stopped regretting it. Letting Hitoshi be raised by your father’s side of the family. Even now, I can’t forgive myself. He fought so hard not to go…”

“Grandma…”

Her thin shoulders trembled as if shivering.

“Even after he was taken in by them, Hitoshi called the house so many times. But if they found out he’d made the call, they’d punish him, lock him up, it seemed. Eventually, he stopped calling.”

She pressed the towel to her face, soaking up the tears that wouldn’t stop.

“His favorite phrases were always, ‘I want to come home’ and ‘Is Misaki doing okay?’ He was a kind boy, always thinking about you. Even when it came to Megumi…”

“What about Megumi?” Misaki asked.

His grandmother quickly pressed the towel to her mouth, startled.

“What happened with Megumi?” he asked again.

She kept her head down and said nothing. Misaki grabbed her small shoulders roughly and shook her.

“Grandma, what is it? Tell me.”

At last, under the pressure of his insistent questioning, she opened her mouth as if in resignation.

“When you went to ask Hitoshi’s company for help with Megumi’s surgery costs, and he brushed you off coldly… there was a reason for that. Hitoshi said it was because he was at work, and if the old man, his grandfather, found out he was still in contact with his little brother, it would cause trouble for everyone. So he pretended he didn’t care. But he never stopped worrying about you. Later, he secretly sent money to our house through someone else. He asked me to give it to you, to say it was from me, not him. I told him he should just tell you the truth, but Hitoshi said it was fine, because he had done something awful, and he deserved whatever you thought of him.”

Misaki listened, stunned, as the truth spilled out.

“He’s still the same as he was back then, kind, always thinking of his little brother. When your wife passed away, he even sent condolence money to you through me. And he said, once that old man passed away, which he figured wouldn’t be much longer, he was going to come home with his head held high. He wanted to visit your parents’ graves, and apologize to you face-to-face. That’s what he said. I thought, finally, he might be able to be at peace… but then this happened.”

His grandmother broke down crying. In the garden, unaware he was being talked about, Hitoshi crouched in the dirt, watching a trail of ants with intense fascination. Just looking at him brought tears to Misaki’s eyes. He no longer knew what he’d been so angry about all this time.

“You idiot…”

He scrubbed the tears from the corners of his eyes with the back of his hand.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

Misaki walked slowly along a dusty, unpaved path that ran past some private homes. Hitoshi hopped beside him, playing a solitary game of stepping on his own shadow as he moved.

The sunlight was so strong it stung the skin, and sweat beaded up and rolled down like droplets. Misaki came to an abrupt stop at the sound of a clear, refreshing chime. A glass wind bell hung in front of an old-fashioned candy shop, alongside a red banner that read Ice. All at once, a sharp thirst seized Misaki.

“Wanna get an ice pop?”

Hitoshi perked up with an eager ‘Yeah!’, his face lighting up. That childlike response, that innocent gesture, it tightened something in Misaki’s chest.

They sat side by side on a bamboo mat chair out front and licked brightly colored popsicles. Hitoshi finished his first, and wiped his now-sticky fingers on his T-shirt before turning to Misaki and sticking out his tongue.

“Did it turn colors?”

The tip of Hitoshi’s tongue had turned the same green as his melon-flavored popsicle.

“You look like a chameleon.”

Grinning wide, Hitoshi jumped to his feet and dashed over to the base of a tree across the way, the one where the cicadas were making the loudest racket. Even after Misaki finished eating, Hitoshi lingered there, reluctant to leave the tree’s deafening buzz behind.

“Hey, can we come back later to catch cicadas?”

He turned and smiled brightly. Misaki had never felt so lonely seeing Hitoshi looking like an adult. Without answering, he simply took Hitoshi’s hand and started walking. They passed a bamboo grove, stepped through the gate of an old temple, and made their way down a narrow path between gravestones. Misaki led him to a small stone in one corner.

“Your mom and dad, and your grandpa, they’re resting here.”

He pointed to a tall, rectangular grave marker as he spoke. Hitoshi stared silently at the grave, freshly adorned with new flowers. Until now he’d been fidgety, cheerful, whistling as he walked, but in front of the grave, Hitoshi stood utterly still.

“They all… died?”

He spoke the words quietly, barely above a whisper.

“Yeah.”

“What about Misaki?”

He could have told him the truth, that the person standing right there was his younger brother. But Hitoshi had always worried so much about his little brother. Now, in front of this cruel truth of their parents’ deaths, Misaki couldn’t bring himself to add another shock that would shatter the dream Hitoshi held. So Misaki lied, instinctively.

“Your brother was taken in by another family. He’s one of their kids now, loved, cared for, and living happily.”

Hitoshi looked like he was about to cry.

“I want to see Misaki.”

“He was really little, so he probably doesn’t remember you. He thinks he’s part of that family now. If he found out he was adopted and had a big brother, it’d just confuse him. It’s better not to see him.”

Hitoshi clenched his fists tightly and trembled all over.

“But he’s my brother. I got big just so I could see him, why can’t I?”

“There’s nothing we can do.”

Hitoshi bit his lip and lowered his head. From his tightly shut eyes, tears began to spill in fat drops. His sobs grew louder, rising above the sound of the cicadas. Misaki simply watched the back of his brother as he crouched down and cried.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

Before he could even bring up borrowing money from his grandmother to cover Jotaro’s hospital expenses, she handed him several hundred thousand yen in cash. It was the same amount Misaki had borrowed when Megumi was hospitalized, which he had been repaying in monthly installments. She gave it back to him in full.

“No need to lie anymore,” she said with a smile. “And you don’t have to send me money every month anymore, okay?”

They returned to the apartment that same day. Hitoshi didn’t say a single word on the train ride home. Misaki made curry for dinner, Hitoshi’s favorite, but he barely touched it. When asked if there was anything he did want to eat, he just shook his head. Misaki was exhausted too, so he laid out the futons early and turned off the lights.

It was a hot, humid night, hard to sleep. There was no air conditioning in the apartment, just an old fan that had been chugging along for years, slowly swiveling side to side. From the futon beside him came the restless rustle of someone turning over again and again. Hitoshi seemed just as uncomfortable as he was.

“Onii-chan… can I come over there?”

The voice came suddenly. Their parents were gone. His beloved younger brother was never coming back. Of course Hitoshi would feel lonely.

“Yeah, sure.”

A warm body slipped into the futon next to his with a soft rustle. Just as Misaki thought, Ugh, it’s hot…, that warm body pressed tightly against his back. Hitoshi probably meant it as a hug, but it felt more like he was the one being held. That wasn’t surprising, Hitoshi was taller and more solidly built. The places where their skin touched grew damp with sweat. It was so hot he could feel the sweat trickling down, and yet Misaki couldn’t bring himself to tell him to move away. He endured the stifling heat, tried to hang on, and at some point… he drifted off to sleep.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

On his way back from work, Misaki stopped by a convenience store before heading to the hospital and bought three ice creams. The hospital room door was open, so he walked in without knocking, and just as he did, Hitoshi and Jotaro, who had been talking excitedly about something, immediately fell silent as if they had rehearsed it.

“What were you two talking about?”

They both looked down at the floor and didn’t answer.

“Oh great, you’re not scheming something stupid again, are you?”

“No way!”

Jotaro snapped back with a little too much vehemence, which only made it more suspicious. Just the other day, the two of them had conspired to play a prank called “playing dead” and gotten thoroughly scolded by the nurse. The prank was simple: Jotaro pretended to be asleep, and Hitoshi ran into the nurse’s station shouting, “Jotaro’s dead!” which sent the nurse into a panic. When she rushed in, they gave her a huge fright.

“If it’s not a scheme, then you can tell me.”

Misaki had also been thoroughly chewed out by the nurse when he came to visit later that day, which made things even more awkward for him.

“You can’t know,” Jotaro said flatly.

Misaki lifted his chin and responded, “So I’m not allowed, but Hitoshi is?”

The boys looked genuinely troubled. Misaki wasn’t actually all that desperate to know what their little plan was, but watching them squirm was kind of amusing.

“Whatever. Just make sure you go easy on the nurses with the pranks, alright? Anyway, I brought you guys some ice cream.”

“Yaaay!” Jotaro and Hitoshi lunged for the plastic bag in Misaki’s hand. There were three different kinds inside, but the two of them reached for the same one. When Jotaro declared, “I’m eating this one,” Hitoshi let go without a fuss.

As the three of them sat there munching away on their ice cream, the curtain suddenly whooshed open. A nurse peeked in, and when she made eye contact with Misaki, she gave him a warm smile. It was Hiiragi-san, a young nurse who Jotaro was especially fond of.

"Your dad is here, huh?"

Hiiragi-san walked over to Jotaro, handed him a thermometer, and began checking his pulse with her slender, pale fingers.

"Your fever’s gone down too. If it keeps up like this, you’ll be ready to go home in another two weeks."

Jotaro, sitting up in bed, swung his legs back and forth.

"Two weeks?! I wanna go home now."

Hiiragi-san looked a little troubled, but then she gave a playful smile.

"That’s already shorter than the original schedule, only because you’ve been doing so well. So hang in there just a little longer, okay? But if you keep playing tricks, I will tell your dad about that thing, you know."

Jotaro flinched visibly and cried out, "You can’t! Seriously, no!"

Hiiragi-san seemed to enjoy his panic and kept going.

"You asked me once, remember? ‘If my heart beats really fast when I think about her, and I feel really happy when she’s next to me, does that mean I like her?’ You’re such a precocious little thing, for an elementary school kid."

Jotaro's mouth pressed into a stiff line as his face turned beet red. Misaki let out a short whistle and gave his suddenly lovelorn son a light flick on the head.

"It’s fine to get a little girl-crazy, but you better listen to what the nurse says. I’ve got an early day tomorrow, so I’m heading out. You’d better behave while I’m gone."

"Shut up."

His son shot back with typical sass, so Misaki gave him a rough smack over the blankets and turned to go.

"Hitoshi, we’re leaving."

When he turned around, he found Hitoshi sitting there, also bright red in the face for some reason. Even after they got home from the hospital, something about Hitoshi seemed off. Normally he’d be chattering non-stop, but tonight he was completely silent. Misaki thought it was strange but figured everyone has days when they don’t feel like talking, so he didn’t push it. That night, he laid the futons out early and flopped onto his.

Now that it was mid-August, the heat seemed to have eased up just a bit. The days were still scorching, but every now and then, a breeze at night would bring a surprising coolness. Misaki dozed off on top of the futon.

Hitoshi had been reading a textbook by himself, but suddenly he snapped it shut and came over, sitting formally on his knees beside Misaki.

“Onii-chan…”

Misaki opened his eyes at the sound of his name and rubbed them roughly with the back of his hand.

“What is it?”

“I think… something’s wrong with me. I must be sick.”

With a sigh, Misaki sat up and folded his legs crosswise on the futon.

“What kind of sickness are we talking about?”

Hitoshi fidgeted, rocking his knees where he sat in seiza, clearly struggling to say something. Misaki reached over and tugged gently on his ear.

"‘Sick’ can mean a lot of things. If you don’t say it clearly, I can’t help you.”

“…My peepee.”

Misaki blinked, unsure he’d heard that right. But Hitoshi’s face was dead serious.

“My peepee gets hard and it tingles and then this white stuff comes out. It’s happened a bunch of times. I asked Jotaro, but he said it’s never happened to him. When I asked the nurse, she gave me this weird look.”

Misaki tried to keep a straight face, but a sputtering laugh burst out before he could stop it. His stomach clenched from the effort to hold it back. Of course the nurse looked weirded out. Hitoshi, who looked like a full-grown man, had basically just asked, “Is ejaculating a disease?”

No wonder Jotaro hadn’t been able to help, he was still too young to know about any of this.

“That’s not a disease.”

Before turning into a kid again, Hitoshi probably had a girlfriend, probably dealt with this himself in private. Misaki forced his face straight, trying to calm the convulsing laughter in his gut.

“That’s just how it works for grown men.”

“All men?”

“Yeah, even me.”

“Even you, onii-chan?”

He’d taught Hitoshi all kinds of things, Japanese, math, science, social studies, but somehow, he’d forgotten “health class.”

“When a man grows up, his body gets ready to make a baby. Your peepee, well, it’s not just for peeing. It can actually make kids.”

“How?”

“Well, when it gets hard, you put it inside a hole.”

“…A hole? Where?”

Such an innocent question.

“A hole between the legs.”

After saying it, Misaki regretted that maybe giving such detailed sex education was too soon, because Hitoshi looked utterly confused.

“Well, kid... anyway, how babies are made doesn’t really matter here. It’s not strange that this is happening to you. Jotaro’s still small, but you’re bigger now. Well... when your penis gets hard..., you just gotta pull and release once, and you’ll feel better.”

“Release? Pull what?”

“Not pull, more like... stroke it...”

“Stroke… what does that mean?”

“You hold your penis and, like, move your hand...”

Hitoshi tilted his head slowly, and Misaki shrugged.

“You’re annoying. I’ll just show you, so come on, take off your pants.”

“No way!”

Hitoshi gripped the waistband of his pajamas tightly.

“What’s the problem? We’re both guys, it’s fine. C’mon, just show it.”

Urged by Misaki, Hitoshi reluctantly pulled down his pants. What lay between his dark pubic hair was definitely thicker and longer than Misaki’s. Misaki couldn’t hide his shock since he’d always thought of Hitoshi as just a kid. Misaki felt uneasy and hesitant to continue the demonstration he had planned.

“Hold your penis.”

Hitoshi grasped his penis with his thumb and forefinger like he was picking up something dirty.

“No, not like that. Grab it firmly.”

Hitoshi obeyed but squeezed too hard and shouted, “Ouch!”

“Geez.”

Misaki shook off Hitoshi’s hand and grabbed it himself.

“Ah...”

Hitoshi muttered briefly, looking down. Just Misaki holding it made Hitoshi’s penis get a little hard. Holding someone else’s penis was rare, but it felt oddly real and warm, more than his own. When Misaki squeezed harder, it got incredibly hard quickly.

“You’re starting to feel good, aren’t you?”

“N-no...”

Hitoshi’s shoulders trembled subtly.

“What’s wrong?”

“My butt feels itchy...”

“That means it’s feeling good.”

Misaki stroked the now firm thing up and down, and Hitoshi placed both hands on Misaki’s shoulders, gripping tightly. A pained breath brushed past Misaki’s ear.

“Tell me if you’re about to come.”

His moist eyes met Misaki’s.

“Come… what do you mean?”

“…When you feel like you’re about to pee, tell me.”

“Okay.”

Hitoshi closed his eyes, and Misaki increased the speed of his strokes. As he did it, he thought needlessly how before losing his memory, Hitoshi probably went at it hard with this magnificent thing.

“Onii-chan, it’s coming… it’s coming.”

At Hitoshi’s voice, Misaki hurriedly cupped the tip with his palm. The warm liquid’s sensation. Misaki caught it without spilling and turned his palm over before Hitoshi’s eyes.

“This is yours. Look closely. It’s different from pee,  it’s white and sticky.”

“Yeah...”

Hitoshi gently poked the semen on Misaki’s palm with his finger. The way it drew strings was oddly obscene, and Hitoshi quickly wiped his fingers with a tissue.

“It’s a little different for each person, but a man needs to release this white stuff about every two or three days. So next time your penis gets hard like that, you hold it yourself and let this white stuff out.”

“Okay.”

Hitoshi nodded obediently.

“Oh, and you have to do this somewhere no one can see. Like the toilet, bathroom, or under the covers. You go to the toilet when you pee, right? It’s the same thing.”

Hitoshi nodded again, then eagerly tucked himself back into his pants.

“You feel better now, right? I’m glad you know it’s not a disease. I’m going to sleep now.”

Misaki lay down on the futon, and Hitoshi flopped down next to him. Though he wondered if he was spoiling him too much, it was too much trouble to push him away, so Misaki closed his eyes with a sigh. …But as soon as he closed them, Hitoshi started moving restlessly beside him.

“Go to sleep quietly.”

“Onii-chan…”

Hearing Hitoshi’s tearful voice, Misaki sat up, wondering what was wrong, and saw that Hitoshi’s pajama bottoms were tented by an erection. Even though he had just come earlier, his recovery rate was frightening.

“Again? I just showed you how to do it. Try doing it the same way.”

“I might not be able to do it well…”

Misaki ran his fingers through his hair and muttered, “Man, seriously…”

“Alright then, I’ll watch. Go ahead and try.”

Hitoshi pulled down his underwear in front of Misaki and began to fumble awkwardly with his penis. Even Misaki, observing with a touch of admiration, thought, man, it’s big no matter how many times I see it, when suddenly something spurted and landed on his nightclothes.

“Hey, don’t shoot that at me!”

“S-sorry…”

“Geez…”

Misaki wiped off the stuff with a tissue. It might’ve been fine if it were his own, but someone else’s? No thanks.

“Onii-chan…”

Hitoshi murmured, still exposed.

“You know, when I think about you, my thing gets hard.”

Misaki’s mouth hung open, still holding the soiled tissue.

“When I’m with you and I feel happy or excited, or my chest feels all fluttery, it gets hard. I love you, Onii-chan. The nurse said that if you feel excited and happy being around someone, it means you like them. I really love you. Why does it get hard when you love someone?”

Misaki didn’t know how to respond. Even if Hitoshi said he loved him, the mind of a six-year-old couldn’t possibly understand human affection or bodily reactions properly…

“Well, that’s… uh…”

Misaki was caught off guard when Hitoshi suddenly clung to him and pushed him down onto the futon. With Hitoshi’s lower half completely exposed, and his own legs splayed out helplessly, Misaki couldn’t close them.

“H-Hitoshi…”

Hitoshi, still nude from the waist down, hugged him tightly, pressing against him so hard that Misaki felt dizzy from the suffocating pressure.

“Being close to you feels so good. It’s comforting and relaxing.”

Hitoshi’s bare genitals were pressed against Misaki’s crotch. The strange friction, the contact, caused Misaki’s own penis to react.

It had been two years since Megumi died. He hadn’t been with a woman since. Life had been too overwhelming, his right hand had been his only companion. So when someone said “I love you, I love you,” while rubbing against him like that, even something as small as this caused him to get an erection.

Or maybe it was Hitoshi’s earlier climax that had stirred something in him.

“S-stop, hey, Hitoshi!”

Hitoshi clung to him like a dog, pressing his cheek against Misaki’s. When Misaki tried to push his head away, their eyes met. Hitoshi stared directly at him.

“You, ”

Before he could finish, Hitoshi’s lips smashed against his with a loud smack.

“Mmm, mgh, nn—”

It wasn’t a kiss with any romance; it felt more like an assault. While all that was happening, Hitoshi continued rubbing his bare genitals against Misaki’s, and eventually Misaki couldn’t hold it in, he ended up soiling his underwear.

When Hitoshi noticed the dampness in Misaki’s crotch, he lifted himself up.

“Damn it!”

Misaki kicked Hitoshi’s thick thigh with his heel.

“Ow, Onii-chan, that hurts!”

“You little brat, what the hell were you thinking?”

Misaki, still seething, stripped off his pajama bottoms and underwear on the spot and wiped his groin with some tissues.

“Now I’ve got more laundry to deal with…”

Hitoshi, who had been staring intently at Misaki’s groin, muttered quietly.

“It’s smaller than mine.”

Misaki’s face flushed red.

“Yours is hard right now, dumbass! Don’t compare it like that. That kind of thing varies from person to person! Quit standing there all indecent like that and go take care of it!”

Hitoshi obediently began stroking himself for the third time and cleaned up properly. After adjusting his sleepwear, he sat down beside Misaki, who was now lying sulkily in bed.

“Onii-chan…”

Misaki didn’t answer.

“Onii-chan, are you mad at me?”

“I’m not mad.”

He said it, but in truth he was simmering. All he’d meant to do was teach Hitoshi how to masturbate, but instead he’d nearly been suffocated, and on top of that, had his size insulted.

“Onii-chan… Onii-chan…”

When he kept ignoring him, he heard soft sniffling start. Misaki tried to stay silent, but the damp, whimpering sounds wouldn’t stop.

“I said I’m not mad, so stop crying.”

When he softened his tone a little, Hitoshi, clumsily, so unlike the boy who had just forcefully pushed him down, reached out and touched Misaki’s shoulder. Then, without any invitation or permission, he climbed under the covers, gently hugging Misaki from behind.

“I love you. I really love you, Onii-chan.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. Now just go to sleep already.”

Misaki lightly patted the arm wrapped around his waist.

“Don’t leave me, okay? Not like Dad or Mom or Misaki…”

Through those words, through his actions, he was seeking reassurance. And for the first time, Misaki felt like he’d touched the lonely part inside Hitoshi. Once he understood that, he couldn’t bring himself to be angry anymore.

“I’m not going anywhere. So don’t worry.”

“Okay.”

From that day on, Misaki had no idea how much Hitoshi’s expressions of affection would come to trouble him.

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