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To say the least, Piko is surprised when someone raps at his front door past midnight.
Why is the albino awake then? Blame his late night activities on one of Miki’s stupid romance novels–the cursed piece of literature has ensnared him in its claws. A single chapter turned into two, then five, and now he’s nearing the climax of the story.
He can’t lie that the story is more intriguing than he thought. Perhaps he should check out more books by this author when he gets the chance.
Chewing his lower lip in annoyance, Piko sets the novel down and rises to his feet. He drags himself to the front door and unlocks it.
“Can’t you door-to-door salesmen wait until the morning–”
He pauses when he sees who’s standing on his doorstep.
Len’s eyes are red and puffy. His hair is out of its usual ponytail and a mess. A visible mark lay on his cheek, a ghost of a tear cutting through it.
Those typically vivid blue eyes look dead.
Piko’s heart clenches.
The blonde sucks in a shaky breath. “I’m sorry, I-I know it’s late, but I didn’t have anywhere else to–”
Piko wastes no time in ushering Len inside. He directs him to the couch and hurries to the kitchen to get his sister.
…why is Miki awake? The pinkette came across a unique brownie recipe on TikTok and just had to try it for herself. So here she is, pouring thick, chocolatey batter into a baking dish.
The Utatanes have never heard of the foreign concept known as sleeping at a healthy time. Don’t look too deep into it.
“Len’s here,” is all Piko says.
Miki is quick to put the bowl on the counter. She doesn’t ask questions or flip out that it’s late at night.
Instead, she swiftly pulls off her apron and fills a glass with cold water. Grimacing at the brown fingerprints she left behind, the young woman wipes the chocolate off with a paper towel to the best of her ability.
“We’re sliming those dicks one of these days,” she declares as she hands the cup to her brother.
Piko doesn’t laugh, because how immature would that be? This isn’t the appropriate time for jokes. But he can’t lie that he doesn’t share the same sentiment.
His heart heavy, he returns to the living room and gives the glass to Len. The blonde mumbles a thanks and accepts it. As he drinks, Piko tries to keep his gaze off the mark on his friend’s face.
Its origin is obvious, and it makes his blood boil.
Miki joins them with a warm, thick blanket in her arms. It is quite the disturbing item–the blanket bears an image of a cluster of kittens huddled under a Christmas tree. Each cat has unnaturally large eyes and grins that are too wide to be comforting. No one acknowledges the hellspawns printed on the blanket–Miki gently places it over Len’s shoulders. She takes the empty water glass and places it on the table.
“Our parents will be happy to see you in the morning,” the pinkette says lightly. “Mom will gladly make you omurice for breakfast. She likes that you’re not as picky and cranky as my brother is.”
Len doesn’t comment. His blank stare lingers on the carpet.
Piko clears his throat. “I don’t know what they did this time, but they have no right to treat you like this. They’re delusional if they think you’re in the wrong. This is abuse, no matter how you slice it.”
The blonde sniffles. He pulls his knees to his chest.
“T-they said I killed their daughter, and that I’ve ruined their lives.”
Piko balls his hands into fists.
“Bullshit,” Miki spits venomously. “If anyone is ruining someone’s life, it’s them. You’re trying to be happy–why does that trigger them?”
Len swallows. “It’s been like this ever since I came out. In their eyes, I’ve committed a grave sin. Maybe it’d be better to just comply with how they want me to–”
“Don’t.”
Piko’s sharp tone makes him flinch.
“S-sorry–”
“Don’t apologise,” the albino sighs, shoulders sagging, “you did nothing wrong. But if you continue to adhere to their crap, it’ll only hurt you in the long term. This is your life and happiness we’re talking about–not theirs. They shouldn’t have any control over how you want to live.”
Miki nods, an encouraging smile playing on her lips. “You can stay with us as long as you like. Let them wallow in their misery; maybe a break will teach them a lesson or two.”
“I doubt they’ll care if I disappear,” Len mumbles. “They act like I’m dead anyway; this probably won’t make much of a difference.”
Silence envelopes the living room.
Some people don’t deserve to parent, Piko thinks bitterly. What did Len do to get stuck with these close-minded assholes?
He shifts closer to Len and takes his hand, gently drawing circles in his palm. The blonde stiffens at first, only to relax shortly after.
“...warm,” he hears Len mumble.
Piko isn’t sure if he’s referring to his hand or their presence.
Miki glances at the clock on the wall and claps her hands. “Okay! Why don’t we hit the sheets? I’ll get the futon.”
Piko watches his sister climb the stairs. When she’s out of sight, Piko gently squeezes his friend’s hand.
Len looks up, eyes questioning.
“That cheek needs ice,” Piko says. “It’ll bruise either way, but at least it’ll numb the pain.”
The blonde shook his head. “There’s no need, it doesn’t really hurt anymore.”
Piko rolls his eyes. “Sure, and the sky is red.” He lets go of Len’s hand and stands up. As he gets an ice pack from the fridge, his eyes fall on Miki’s abandoned mixture. Piko grabs a roll of plastic wrap from the pantry and seals the bowl and pan. He’ll leave the fridge Tetris to Miki.
“Think fast.” He tosses the pack to Len. Unfortunately, his throw is too low, so it lands four feet away from the couch.
Len stares at it before smirking. “Your aim is getting worse,” he teases as he stands to get the pack.
Piko flips him off, but there's no aggression to it. At least Len is smiling now.
They hear a crash from upstairs, followed by an angry yowl. Miki yells, “Sorry, Azriel!”, only to get another screech from the cat.
Len appears concerned. “Should we help her?”
Piko waves his hand flippantly and flops back on the couch. “She’ll live,” he says. “If you’re not applying pressure to your injury, I’ll do it myself.”
The blonde nods in acknowledgment and does as ordered.
After ten minutes of waiting, a triumphant Miki returns downstairs with several scratches on her hands. “Futon’s ready!”
Piko stares at her hands. The pinkette follows his gaze and playfully quips, “Like my battle scars?”
“No, they look pathetic.”
“H-hey–!”
“Come on, Len. Azriel considers you a formidable ally, so he’ll keep his claws sheathed.” He beckons his friend to follow him upstairs. “Remember, your toothbrush is the blue one.”
“O-oh, okay.”
Like the last few times Len has stayed here, Piko gets out his plushies and arranges them on the bed while his guest washes up. He knows the blonde is particularly fond of the Pichu. The albino then rummages through his chest of drawers for a pair of pajamas. He knows the red plaid set is his comfiest sleepwear, so he goes with those.
Len returns from the bathroom looking rejuvenated, carrying the scent of strawberry handsoap. His eyes, which are no longer puffy or scarlet, light up upon seeing the setup his friend has left for him.
“Take your binder off and leave your clothes in my laundry hamper,” Piko says with a yawn. “It’s Miki’s turn to do the laundry tomorrow, so it’ll be her problem.”
“I can wash my own clothes–”
“Nah, you’re good. Leave the chores to us, man; you can join the workforce when you move in.”
I hope you do, is what Piko doesn’t say. I’d love to have you as a brother, and don’t want those demons to lay another hand on you.
He finishes his business in the bathroom and crashes on the futon. With a groan, the albino rolls over and buries himself in the covers.
Len had changed into the pajama set Piko provided. He makes no move to lie down, however.
Piko gives him a deadpan stare. “I told you before; I’d rather jump from the window than let you take the futon.”
“Still–”
“Len.”
“Fine…” Len reluctantly lies on the bed and pulls the duvet to his chin. Satisfied, Piko clears his throat.
“Alexa, lights off.”
At once, the home assistant shrouds the bedroom in darkness, with the glow-in-the-dark stars on its ceiling serving as the only light source. Piko finds it hard to believe they’ve retained their glow for so long.
A lazy mewl cuts through the silence, and the albino feels a lump of warm fluff squeeze its way into the blanket.
“Hi, Azriel!” Len greets politely.
The cat trills and affectionately rubs its head against Piko’s chest. What a spoiled animal–they bought an expensive bed for him, and he has never touched it in favour of Piko’s or his parent’s.
They’re going to wake up to zoomies, aren’t they?
Whatever, that is a problem for Future Piko to deal with, not Present Piko. His eyes grow heavy within minutes.
“Hey, Piko?”
“Hm?” He shifts in bed.
“Thank you… I appreciate everything you guys have done for me.”
Warmth swells in Piko’s chest. “Of course. You’re stuck with us, whether you like it or not.”
He grins when he hears Len chuckle. That happiness was everything to Piko–he wouldn’t trade it for the world.
Sleep takes them shortly after, and their dreams are nothing short of peaceful.