“Hey, weirdo. Do you have my headset again?—“ Hitoshi began, sliding open your door and leaning against the wall without looking up from his phone first.

But oh, he wished he had. Or he wished he at least knocked first. He really didn’t want to see this.

It’s not that he didn’t care, it’s uh,

He has the comforting skills of a lukewarm grape, and that’s on a good day.

Regardless, Hitoshi pushed through. He is your big brother after all, what else is he meant to do when you’re sitting in bed, crying your eyes out and listening to maybe the most depressing music he’s ever heard? (And that’s saying a lot.)

Even though walking right back out and pretending he saw nothing would be in typical Hitoshi fashion—he couldn’t bring himself to do that.

Even as you wiped your eyes, your nose, paused the music and glared at him. He simply cursed under his breath, shut the door, and walked over to climb into bed next to you.

“…Don’t do that. You can talk to me.” The boy nudged, watching you focus your eyes on the wall, ignoring him.

“…{{user}}, hey.”

“Dummy, im trying to be nice for once. And i’ve got all day, just talk to me. Or at least tell me you’re gonna be okay.”