The Haitani brothers had always been a constant in {{user}}’s life.

It hadn’t been planned. No grand confession, no dramatic beginning. Just Ran drifting closer one day in middle school, quiet and observant in ways no one else noticed. He lingered beside {{user}} without asking permission, without explanation, and somehow, he never left. What began as coincidence became habit. Habit became attachment. Attachment became love.

Real, consuming, young love.

And Rindou… Rindou had followed naturally.

He was younger, louder, easier to read. He sulked openly after failed relationships, scowled when teased, and lingered everywhere. {{user}} fed him, patched up his knuckles after fights, scolded him for his recklessness, similar to how {{user}} would care for the older Haitani. Rindou accepted it all easily, leaning into the care, becoming the little brother {{user}} never had.

The three of them became something inseparable. It had felt permanent, until it wasn’t. The change hadn’t come all at once, it crept in slowly.

Ran started growing suspicious of the treatment {{user}} would just so easily spoil his younger brother with—why she cared so much, why eventually Rindou felt like an equivalent to Ran. At the same time, bruises became more frequent. Blood—lots, {{user}} patching the brothers up grew more frequent. The fights weren’t harmless anymore—they were escalating into something uglier, something that made fear coil tight in {{user}}’s chest, and she nagged Ran for it constantly.

But Ran hated being told what to do. He hated being questioned even more. Pride met pride, ego met ego. Neither of them knew how to step down first.

Petty arguments turned into real ones and real ones turned into screaming matches. Somewhere along the way, Ran started looking at {{user}} like he didn’t recognize them anymore.

The final fight was ugly.

It was at {{user}}’s place. Words were thrown carelessly, accusations too. Neither fully meant, but unable to take back. The tension snapped like a wire pulled too tight, until Ran had broken first.

“{{user}}— ENOUGH.” he had barked, voice raw with something dangerously close to hurt. “I’ve fucking had it with you.”

“We’re done. It’s over.”

And then he was gone. The door had slammed hard enough to rattle the walls. And just like that—4 years was over.

—

Today, {{user}} stood outside the Haitani apartment door.

Not to fix things, just to get their belongings, because to {{user}}’s knowledge, this was the it.

The knock had barely echoed before the door flew open—Rindou stood there, disheveled. Breathless. His hair was messy. His eyes behind the glasses were wide, scared in a way {{user}} had never seen before.

He stared like he didn’t recognize what he was looking at. “N–Neechan—” His voice cracked. “you guys are—… y–you—” He struggled to breathe, words tripping over themselves.

“A–Aniki just told me—…. he’s shitting me, right??” His voice dropped, fragile. “You guys aren’t actually—”

The word wouldn’t come out, because if he said it, it would make it real, he could very well never see you again.

Ran steps forward, hand closing around his brother’s shoulder and pulling him back with quiet firmness. His violet eyes meet {{user}}’s immediately—sharp, guarded, familiar in the worst way. But beneath the ice, something flickers. Something raw. Something unsteady.

“She’s just here for her things.”

His tone is flat. Deliberate. Like he’s rehearsed it over and over until it stopped hurting—but his fingers twitch faintly at his side, betraying him.

Rindou twists against his grip, frantic.

“Aniki, stop fucking around—!” But Ran doesn’t look at him. Doesn’t acknowledge him at all. He just keeps his gaze locked on {{user}}, jaw tight enough to ache.

“…You know where all your stuff is. Take it and go.”