Chapter 10: The Art of Misdirection

I kept pacing, my mind racing like crazy. How the hell was I gonna pull this off? Mom wasn't stupid—far from it. She'd see right through any excuse I came up with. Hell, she was sharper than me, and that's sayin' something.

Every idea I had crumbled as fast as it came. Tell her the old phone broke? Nah, she'd wanna see it. Claim it got stolen? She'd ask a million questions, and I'd slip up for sure. I knew better than to underestimate her.

I could already picture her, arms crossed, that sharp look in her eyes. She always knew when I was hiding something. There was no fooling her. I'd learned that the hard way.

"Geez, Kiryuu, you gonna wear a hole in the floor." Jax's voice cut through my thoughts. He was leaning against the counter, watching me with an amused look. I shot him a glare but didn't stop pacing.

"There's no way I'm getting away with this," I muttered, mostly to myself. "She'll figure it out in a heartbeat."

Jax raised an eyebrow. "Your mom, huh? Didn't think you were the type to be scared of anyone."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not scared, idiot. She's just... smart. Too smart." I crossed my arms, leaning back against the display. "You wouldn't get it. She knows everything. She'll ask one question, and if my answer's even a little off, she'll be on me like a hawk."

Jax whistled. "Sounds intense."

"You don't know the half of it." I ran a hand through my hair, frustrated. "She'll wanna know why I suddenly got a new phone. And I can't tell her what really happened. She'd freak."

I could almost hear her voice now, all worried and sharp. 'Collin, what did you get yourself into this time?' That's the last thing I needed. She already worried enough. If she knew some chick came at me, smashing my phone like a psycho...

Nope. Not happening.

But what the hell was I supposed to do? There was no way I could find the same model. It was ancient. And buying a new one without a good story to back it up was like handing her a ticket to interrogate me for hours.

I hated this. Feeling stuck, cornered. There had to be a way. I just needed to think. Jax's voice pulled me back again. "You could always just tell her the truth."

I laughed, a sharp, bitter sound. "Yeah, right. And while I'm at it, I'll just tell her all the other crap she doesn't need to know. Real smart."

Jax shrugged. "Just saying. Lying seems like more trouble than it's worth."

I shot him another glare. Easy for him to say. He didn't know what it was like, trying to keep everything balanced. Trying to protect the people who cared about you while keeping your own secrets buried.

I chewed my lip, still thinking hard. There had to be an answer. I just hadn't found it yet. And I wasn't leaving until I did.

No way I was letting this beat me. Yeah, Mom was smart—scary smart. But who did she think I got my brains from? She didn't raise an idiot.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stop pacing. My mind was racing, piecing things together. Think, Collin. If I couldn't lie my way out of this, then I'd have to twist the truth.

Then it hit me. That's it. I smirked, feeling that rush of adrenaline when a plan starts falling into place. I knew exactly what to do.

Jax raised an eyebrow, noticing the change in my expression. "Looks like you figured something out." I shot him a smug look. "Of course I did. Like I'd let a little problem like this beat me."

Jax grinned. "Gotta admit, you're interesting, Kiryuu." I almost laughed out loud. Sometimes I even impressed myself.

Jax was watching me with that stupid smirk. "You look way too pleased with yourself. Care to share the genius plan?"

I rolled my eyes. "None of your business." I started toward the counter. "Let's just get this over with."

But inside, I felt that rush of victory. There was no way I'd let Mom catch me on this. I had it all figured out. After all, I was her daughter. If anyone could get away with this, it was me.

We got back faster than I expected—Jax was a maniac on that bike. The roar of his engine was still echoing in my head when I stepped inside my house.

The place was quiet. Too quiet. I kicked off my shoes, my pulse quickening. I already knew who was waiting.

"Collin."

Mom's voice cut through the silence, sharp as a blade. She stood at the end of the hallway, arms crossed, eyes locked on me. She didn't look angry—no, that'd be too easy. She looked... curious. And that was worse.

I forced a smile, slipping my hands into my pockets. "Hey, Mom. Didn't think you'd be home this early."

She raised an eyebrow. "Didn't think you'd be out so late. School stuff, was it?"

I nodded, keeping my face blank. "Yeah. Had to finish up some stuff for the contest."

Her gaze dropped to my pocket—the one holding the new phone. My fingers tightened around it. I had to play this just right.

She tilted her head. "Your phone died, huh?"

I held her stare, casual as ever. "Yep. Battery's been acting up."

She nodded slowly, eyes narrowing. "Then why didn't you charge it at school?"

That's it—time to sell it. I shrugged, letting out an annoyed huff. "I tried. But then I dropped it, and it wouldn't turn back on. I went to get it fixed, but it's too old. They don't make the parts anymore."

I pulled the phone out, letting her see it. It was the same model, same color. Identical in every way to the one Giana broke. I made sure of that. Only difference was, this one actually worked.

Mom's eyes flicked over the phone, then back to me. She didn't say anything, just studied me like she was looking for cracks in my story. But there weren't any. I was too good for that.

I let out an exaggerated sigh. "I didn't wanna get a new one, but they didn't leave me much choice. I figured it was better to get the same model, so I wouldn't have to learn a new one. Less hassle, y'know?"

Mom's lips twitched, almost like she wanted to smile. "That so?"

I nodded, meeting her eyes without flinching. "Yeah. Figured you wouldn't mind as long as it wasn't some expensive upgrade or whatever."

She was quiet, her eyes searching mine. My heart was pounding, but I didn't let it show. Just kept my face relaxed, casual.

Finally, she sighed, her shoulders easing just a little. "Well, if it's the same model, I suppose it's fine." She glanced at the phone again, then turned away. "Dinner's in an hour. Don't be late."

I watched her walk down the hall, my pulse finally slowing.

As soon as she was out of sight, I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. Nailed it.

The truth, just not the whole truth. She couldn't argue with that. I almost laughed.

I shoved the phone back in my pocket, a grin spreading across my face. Who was I kidding? I was born for this.

I stopped dead in my tracks, hand halfway to my bedroom door. Zane's room was just next to mine, door cracked open enough to catch a glimpse inside. Normally, I'd hear him humming some stupid tune or talking to his video game characters like they could hear him. But right now...

It was quiet. Too quiet.

I leaned in, careful not to make a sound. I ain't exactly the snooping type, but something felt off. Then I heard it—a muffled sniffle, shaky breaths, the kind you try to hide but can't quite manage. My chest tightened.

Zane never cries. Never.

I peered through the crack. He was sitting on his bed, knees pulled up, face buried in his arms. His shoulders trembled, his whole frame shaking like he was trying to hold it all in but failing.

That kid... always smiling, always acting like nothing gets to him. But here he was, breaking apart when no one was looking.

A hot surge of anger shot through me. Who the hell made him cry like that?

Zane could fight. Hell, he knew Kyokushin karate better than anyone his age. But for all his technique and strength, his heart... it was too damn soft. Too gentle. He could drop anyone to the floor if he wanted, but he never did. He was too kind for his own good.

My fingers dug into the doorframe, a familiar heat boiling in my gut. I wanted to bust in, find out who was hurting him, and make 'em pay. But I knew Zane. He wouldn't tell me. Wouldn't tell anyone. He kept everything bottled up, hid behind that sunshine smile.

I took a step back, leaning against the wall just outta sight. My fists were clenched so tight my nails bit into my palms. I wanted to fix it. I wanted to protect him. But how the hell was I supposed to fight something I couldn't even see?

His quiet sobs tore through me, each one hitting harder than a punch. But I stood there, frozen. If I barged in, he'd just put on that fake grin and tell me everything was fine. Like always.

So I did nothing. I just stood there, listening to my little brother break, feeling more helpless than I ever had in my life.

After a while, his crying slowed, breaths evening out. I waited until I was sure he was done before slipping into my room, shutting the door behind me as quietly as I could.

I leaned against it, heart heavy, mind racing. Whoever was messing with him... they'd pay. I didn't care how long it took.

It pissed me off. Not at him... but at whatever was making him feel like this. My fists clenched at my sides, and for a second, I wanted to burst in, demand to know who was messing with him. But that'd be the wrong move. I'd just corner him, make him feel weak... and Zane wasn't weak. He was stronger than he thought, even if his heart was too damn soft for his own good.

Head tilting back as I sucked in a breath. How the hell do I approach this? He's never once told me anything, not even when he'd come home with bruises he'd try to brush off as accidents. It's not like he can't fight back—hell, he's better at Kyokushin than I ever was. He's got the strength... just not the heart to use it.

Maybe that's the problem.

I straighten up, hands stuffed into my pockets as I knock lightly on his door, pushing it open just a crack. "Yo. You good?" My voice is casual, like I just happened to be passing by. "Heard somethin' weird. Thought a cat got in or somethin'."

Silence. I see his shoulders tense, the way he hurriedly wipes at his eyes before turning away from me. "I'm fine," he says, voice flat, trying to sound steady. "Just tired."

I don't buy it for a second, but I don't push. I step inside, leaning on his doorframe with a lazy grin. "Tired? You? That's a first. You were bouncing off the walls this morning."

He shrugs, not looking at me. "I just... didn't sleep well."

He's lying. I can see it in the way his shoulders curl in, how his fingers twist in the fabric of his blanket. He's shutting himself off, like he always does. Makes me want to shake him, to yell at him to quit pretending. But that's not how Zane works. He's not like me. He's not loud about his pain.

I cross my arms, gaze sweeping over his room. Everything's neat, like always. Not a thing out of place. The only messy thing here... is him. I glance at him out of the corner of my eye, studying the way his hair's sticking up in odd directions, his eyes rimmed red.

"Yeah? That so?" I say, keeping my tone light. "I was gonna head out and get some takoyaki. You coming?"

His head jerks up, eyes widening just a bit before he catches himself. "Now?"

"Why not?" I shrug. "You love that place by the station, right? Figured you'd wanna tag along. But if you're tired..."

There it is. That flicker of hesitation, the crack in his mask. He wants to go. I know he does. But he's too proud to admit it outright. I push off the doorframe, turning away. "Alright then. If you're not coming, I'll just get extra for myself—"

"Wait."

Gotcha. I hide my smirk, glancing back at him. He's standing now, brushing his hair back with his fingers, trying to act like he's not still wiping his eyes. "I... I'll come. Just... let me grab my jacket."

I nod, shoving my hands back into my pockets. "Cool. Hurry up, slowpoke."

As I wait, my eyes drift back to his room, to the perfectly organized desk, the karate gear folded neatly in the corner. My jaw tightens. Whoever's messing with him... they'll pay for it. But I won't fight his battles for him. That's not what he needs.

No, Zane needs to figure this out on his own. He needs to learn to stand his ground. But he doesn't have to do it alone.

And I'll make damn sure he knows that.

I jogged downstairs, Zane trailing behind me, still wiping the last traces of tears from his eyes. I didn't say anything about it, just acted like everything was normal. That's how he wanted it—no pity, no fuss.

I found Mom in the kitchen, humming to herself as she chopped vegetables. Her knife moved so fast it was a blur. I leaned against the doorway, keeping my posture casual. "Ma. I'm taking Zane out for a bit."

She didn't even look up. "Where to?"

"Takoyaki place by the station."

She paused, glancing over her shoulder. Her eyes narrowed, sweeping over me from head to toe. "You haven't showered yet."

I rolled my eyes. "I'll shower when I get back."

Her gaze lingered on my uniform, wrinkled from the day and smelling faintly of sweat. "You can't go out like that. You'll embarrass yourself."

I shrugged. "Not like I'm going on a date or anything."

Mom pursed her lips, setting the knife down as she turned to face me fully. "Collin, I know you're not one to care about appearances, but you shouldn't look like you rolled out of bed. Go shower first."

I bit back a groan. Stubborn as ever. "I'll be quick. Zane's hungry, right?"

He blinked, clearly not expecting to be dragged into this. I gave him a pointed look, raising an eyebrow. "Right, Zane?"

He caught on, nodding hastily. "Y-yeah. I'm starving."

Mom's eyes softened, her shoulders relaxing just a bit. But she wasn't giving in that easily. "He can wait. Go freshen up, then you can go."

"C'mon, Ma..." I leaned my head back, groaning dramatically. "It's just takoyaki. No one cares if I'm wearing my uniform."

She crossed her arms, unmoved. "Your father would care."

My jaw tightened, but I forced myself to stay cool. "Well, he's not here, is he?"

The words hung heavy in the air, tension crackling between us. Mom's eyes flickered with something—hurt, maybe—but she hid it fast, turning back to her chopping board. "...Fine. But don't stay out too late. And bring him back safe."

My chest eased, a weight I didn't realize was there lifting. "Yeah, yeah. I got it."

"And you better shower the second you get back."

I grinned, already backing out of the kitchen. "Scout's honor."

She shook her head, muttering under her breath as I dragged Zane out the door. But I caught the faintest hint of a smile on her lips before we left.

We walked down the street, the sun hanging low in the sky, painting everything in shades of orange and pink. Zane kicked a pebble along the sidewalk, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. His shoulders were hunched, and his usual bounce was missing. That sunshine-boy glow dimmed.

I shoved my hands in my pockets, matching his pace. "You're awful quiet today."

He shrugged, eyes glued to the ground. "Just tired."

"Uh-huh." I let the silence stretch a little before nudging him with my elbow. "Too much homework? Or you stayin' up late watching those dumb anime again?"

His lips twitched, almost smiling. "They're not dumb. And no, I finished my homework."

"Oh, wow. Look at you, bein' all responsible." I threw him a mock look of disbelief. "Who are you, and what have you done with my little brother?"

That earned me a small laugh, but it was hollow, lacking his usual spark.

We turned the corner, the takoyaki stand coming into view at the end of the street, lights flickering on as the sky dimmed. I kept my voice light, casual. "You know, you can talk to me... if something's botherin' you."

His body tensed, shoulders creeping up toward his ears. "I'm fine."

"Mhm. Sure." I pretended to focus on the road ahead, acting like I didn't notice how stiff he was. "You're always fine, aren't ya?"

He didn't answer.

I sighed, letting the conversation drop for a bit. Gotta be smooth, not too pushy. Zane's like a turtle—poke too hard, and he'll just retreat into his shell. I glanced sideways at him, trying a different angle. "Hey, I heard there's a new arcade at the mall. We should check it out sometime."

His head lifted, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "Really?"

"Yup. Supposed to have all the classics. Maybe I'll finally beat your high score at Street Fighter."

He snorted, the corners of his mouth lifting. "In your dreams."

"There's the little punk I know." I smirked, ruffling his hair. "You're talkin' big for someone who still owes me from the last bet."

His smile faltered, and his gaze dropped again. "...Yeah. Sorry. I've been busy."

I kept my tone easy, like I didn't notice his shift. "Busy with what? School kickin' your butt?"

"Kinda." His voice was small, like he was hoping I wouldn't hear. "And... other stuff."

We reached the stand, the smell of crispy takoyaki and sweet sauce making my stomach growl. I ordered for both of us, leaning against the counter as we waited. "Other stuff, huh?" I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. "Like, club activities? Friends?"

He hesitated, fidgeting with the zipper of his hoodie. "...Yeah. Friends."

I kept my expression neutral, resisting the urge to push harder. "Must be some rough friends if they're stressin' you out like this."

His eyes widened, panic flashing across his face. "N-No, they're not—! I mean, they're fine. I'm fine."

"Sure you are." I kept my tone casual, shrugging. "Just sayin'. If someone's givin' you a hard time, you can tell me. I won't... I won't do anything, y'know, unless you want me to."

His shoulders relaxed a bit, like my promise took some of the weight off. "...I know."

I handed him his box of takoyaki, watching him poke at the food without his usual enthusiasm. My chest tightened, that familiar anger bubbling up. Who the hell was messin' with my little brother? But I swallowed it down, keeping my voice light. "You better eat up before I steal yours."

He blinked, his head snapping up. "H-Hey! No way! You got your own!"

"There he is." I grinned, flicking his forehead. "You're too easy to rile up."

He pouted, but there was a spark of life in his eyes again. "You're annoying."

"And you love me for it."

He rolled his eyes, shoving a takoyaki ball into his mouth. "Yeah, yeah... whatever."

I watched him chew, his expression softening, that guarded look fading. Maybe he wasn't ready to talk yet. But that's fine. I'd wait. And when he was ready... I'd be here.

We sat on that rickety bench, the wood creaking under us, the streetlights flickering above. Zane was poking at his takoyaki, the sauce dripping off his toothpick like he was too deep in thought to even eat. I stuffed another ball into my mouth, chewing slowly, letting the silence sit there. Sometimes you gotta let him come to you, y'know? He's too much like me—clams up if you push too hard.

I swung my feet back and forth, kicking at the gravel below. It felt kinda nice, just sitting here, acting like nothing was wrong. Like we were just two normal siblings hanging out, stuffing our faces with greasy street food. But I knew better. I could feel the tension rolling off him, see it in the way his shoulders were all bunched up.

Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "...What would you do if... if someone was bullying you... over something stupid?"

My heart skipped a beat, but I kept my face neutral, licking some sauce off my thumb. "Depends. How stupid we talkin'? Like, they makin' fun of your dumb haircut?" I shot him a teasing grin, ruffling his hair. "Which, by the way, looks like a dead squirrel."

He swatted my hand away, almost smiling. Almost. "No... like... something you can't change. Something that just... makes you different."

My chest tightened, a chill running down my spine. Memories I'd buried deep started scratching at the surface. Faces turning away. Whispers behind my back. That stupid nickname they used to call me... just 'cause I was different. Just 'cause I didn't fit in their little box. I forced a chuckle, leaning back on the bench, trying to play it cool. "Well, if it's somethin' you can't change, then screw 'em. Ain't worth your time."

He didn't look convinced, his fingers twisting around the edge of his hoodie. "But... what if it doesn't stop?"

I looked away, my gaze landing on the flickering streetlight, the way the shadows danced on the sidewalk. It didn't stop, huh? Yeah... I knew that feeling all too well. The isolation. The anger. How it boiled over until you did somethin' you couldn't take back. Somethin' that changed everything.

I took a deep breath, keeping my tone light. "If it doesn't stop... then you gotta decide. You either suck it up and ignore it... or you fight back."

His head snapped up, eyes wide. "Fight back?"

I shrugged, popping another takoyaki ball in my mouth. "Yeah. Doesn't always mean with your fists, y'know. Sometimes the best way to fight back is to show 'em they don't matter. Live your life, be happy. That pisses 'em off more than any punch ever could."

He fell silent, processing that. I watched him from the corner of my eye, the way his lips pressed into a thin line, his jaw clenched. He was thinking hard, tryin' to figure out his next move.

I nudged him with my elbow, grinning. "Why? Someone givin' you trouble? Need me to beat 'em up for ya?"

His eyes widened in panic. "N-No! It's... it's nothing. Just... curious."

I laughed, throwing my arm around his shoulders, pulling him into a rough hug. "Yeah, sure. 'Curious.' You're a terrible liar, Zane."

He squirmed, trying to break free, but I held on tighter, ruffling his hair until he was shouting, "Stop it! You're messing up my hair!"

"What, you tryin' to impress a girl or somethin'?" I teased, finally letting him go, watching him fix his hair with a pout. "I swear, you get more high-maintenance every day."

He crossed his arms, glaring at me, but I could see his shoulders were more relaxed now, his body less tense. I leaned back, crossing my legs on the bench. "Anyway... if anyone's messin' with you, you just let me know, alright? I got your back."

He looked away, his voice barely above a whisper. "...I know."

I didn't push him to say more. Didn't demand answers. He'd talk when he was ready. Until then... I'd just be here, actin' like the annoying big sister who messed up his hair and stole his takoyaki. That's what he needed right now. Just me... bein' me.

But in the back of my mind, those old memories wouldn't shut up. Those whispers, those faces. The way it felt to be... alone. Different.

I wouldn't let that happen to Zane. Not if I could help it. "oops, we should go back. mom calling."