11 years later...
My name is Yahiro Sataoshi and I now attend Haro High School located in Japan. It is the middle of my first year of high school. People have already formed friend groups and are rapidly making new friends. I've been out of the loop of creating friendships and aiming to be Mr. Popular. I see no point in something that won't benefit me in the slightest. Ever since the accident that day, my life has changed completely.
I woke up in the hospital, all bandaged up with an IV connected to my wrist. After my eyes finally focused, I realized I also had a breathing mask on my face and saw a nurse beside me. She noticed I was waking up and quickly informed the nearest doctor about my condition. A few moments later, the doctor appeared and approached me. He asked me some questions about how I was and checked the bandages while jotting down notes on his clipboard. I felt pain all around my back and arms. I had been badly burned in those places, and it would probably leave a mark.
I felt fatigued after the adrenaline of waking up in an unknown place subsided, but I forced myself to speak one last time before losing consciousness again. "...Osamu... Where?" were the only words I managed to force out in my state. Thankfully, the doctor understood what I was trying to say. "Osamu is in the room across from yours. He's in a similar state as you but is recovering well. Don't worry too much and rest. We'll talk about what happens after you both recover."
Thank goodness, Osamu is alright. Suddenly, it hit me. Wait... But what about mother, father, and uncle? I tried once again to speak, but I found myself unable to make a sound. I was too tired, and my body couldn't handle it anymore. In seconds, I was asleep again, dreaming of nothing but darkness.
I recovered more rapidly than my brother, and once I was given the okay to go into his room, I ran towards him, hugging him tightly with tears streaming down my face. The moment he saw me, relief flashed across his face. He hugged me back and whispered words of reassurance to help me calm down. "You're such a crybaby, you know that, my little brother?" said Osamu, sighing softly, patting my head gently, and rubbing circles on my back. "I can't help it! I'm so glad you're okay," I said, hiccuping through tears that started flowing again.
I looked at him, checking the injuries he still had. Osamu mentioned that he had some bandages on his legs and arms, but they were fully healed and were removed in the morning. He still had a bandage across his head as he got hit in the head while he was unconscious, but it would soon heal up in no time.
I spent the rest of the day beside my brother, taking care of him as best I could and trying to distract him from boredom. Night finally came, and it was time to fall asleep. They allowed me to sleep with my brother since I started whining, not wanting to leave him alone. I lay beside my brother, allowing myself to feel his presence beside me. I wanted to savor every moment I had with him. I almost lost him during the accident, and it made me realize how quickly he could disappear from my life.
I remembered the question I had about our parents and uncle. Were they okay too? Are they recovering well like we are? Or... *slap* I slapped my cheeks hard, trying to get rid of any negative thoughts. I can't think negatively. The only thing I could do was take care of my brother until we all reunited again.
"---to!... Sato!" I turned my head quickly towards my brother. I was so deep in thought that I didn't hear my brother calling my name. "What's wrong? Why are you hurting yourself?!" Osamu said with a stern voice but a worried look on his face. He grabbed my hands that were still on my cheeks from hitting them and brought them down. I looked at him, and before I knew it, I spilled my thoughts out to him.
"Mother, father, and uncle are okay, right? They must be, right? We should look for them once you're healed. And once we are all together again, I'm going to ask uncle to teach me how to play the violin, and we can start creating music together! Big brother, isn't that a good idea?" I said, looking at my brother with hopeful eyes. But I was cut off mid-sentence when my brother brought me into a hug. I was startled by the sudden movement. I was about to ask him what was wrong until I heard sobbing. It was coming from my brother.
I realized that ever since the accident, he never let out a sound, even when he cried. I was always the crybaby of the two of us, crying loudly, while my brother never had a crying fit. He was the strong one, and even if he shed tears, he made sure to calm himself down and wipe them away. However, at this moment, he finally broke down and sobbed on my shoulder. I had never heard him cry so loudly before. It was heartbreaking to hear him cry his heart out and hiccup between sobs.
I held him tightly, laying us both down on the pillow. Being a crybaby myself, I cried with him, but more gently. I wanted to deny the truth, the reality of our situation. But after seeing my brother break down, I understood that they were gone from this world. They would never come back. I would never see their smiles, hear their laughter, or listen to the music they played ever again.
That night, my brother and I cried ourselves to sleep. We were the only family we had left, and we both subconsciously promised each other to take care of each other and move forward, just as our mother had wished for.