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Toya regretted talking Akito into going to college together. He wouldn’t have insisted, not if he knew he’d end up here.
The sky was the deepest pitch of black the night could reach. Every single light in the neighbourhood had slowly flicked out for the night – even the families that stayed up past midnight to practise. There was so little light pollution that the stars were almost fully visible; he could have sat outside and watched them if he wasn’t so damn busy. Now the only light that wasn’t from the cloud-covered moon was all from his yellow lamp, spreading a golden gleam across the wall and running down his textbooks onto the table and then onto the keyboard, painting half of his fingers and face gold and keeping the other half in grey shadows. But even that paled in comparison to the harsh white light of his laptop, the screen screaming at his eyes and the hard drive whirring for him to stop.
But he couldn’t. Even as the screenlight made his eye twitch and the pale yellow ghosted across his face, adding to the strain, he couldn’t.
The first draft of his extended project qualification was due tomorrow– today . If he didn’t get it done, it would be a deduction from the whole of his final grade.
“What? They can do that?” Akito looked at him incredulously, eyes equally annoyed and tired, though that could have been from the music exam he had needed to re-study the entire module for. ‘How was I supposed to know the module was seven chapters?’
“It appears so.”
He wished he had studied harder during the break. He was ashamed to admit it, but he had gotten too comfortable as one of Kamiyama’s top students. Did that mean he didn’t study hard? Of course not… But did that mean he may have cut himself a little slack because he was confident he already knew the topic? Maybe. Yes, yes he did.
It’s not like he wanted to get comfortable cutting down on studies, but between school and finals and entrance exams and performing abroad, he just thought he deserved it a little, especially after all the years he had spent being hard on himself for his studies.
Clearly not hard enough, his mind offered. He shut it down in order to focus.
It hurt the pride he didn’t even realise had built up when he sat his first test in college, fully thinking he was prepared, only to get it back and barely scrape a double digit number. He was still so embarrassed about it, that he didn’t want to recall what the exact score was. He rested his elbow on the table, the scrunched up shirt sleeve brushing uncomfortably against the edge and exposing his bare arm to the chill that ran through his room as he rubbed at his twitching eye. He was almost done with the bibliography. Just a little more . He kept typing with the other hand.
It hurt so, so much to go from a school where he was the go-to student for answers and help across his year, to a place where he was barely even among the top ten scores in the class.
“ The question was one mark– why would they want details if it was one mark?”
“Ahh! I know, right?”
Even his teammates were struggling. Kohane was too busy studying the last two modules for her third photography exam (she also refused to share the scores of her last two exams out of embarrassment), An was trying to meet the final qualification she needed for her Duke of Edinburgh award – “It doesn’t even get me any points!” , and Akito was still mentally adjusting to having to set aside actual time to study outside of practice and classes. It almost gave Toya whiplash the first time he saw him studying whilst he was waiting for everyone to arrive for practice.
“…Akito?”
“Shut up, I need to finish the next two chapters for self-study.”
He wished so badly he could be there for them, if he didn’t also happen to be focused on trying to speedrun finishing the dissertation he had had months to write in just under two weeks.
Months , he reminded himself, palm pushing his upper lid into his forehead. He could have sat down and made slow progress over time but instead he had focused so much on preparing for his other subjects’ continuous tests that he had allowed it to take a backseat. All because he “still had time.” Look at him now. There was no one to blame but himself. He put this upon himself. We put this upon–
No. No, he couldn’t think like that. He shouldn’t.
“Hey, stop being so hard on yourself, partner. None of us could have seen this coming.”
“But I could have studied. I could have stopped this if I took our upcoming school years more seriously during our holidays– I…”
“Hey now. No one’s blaming you.”
“I could have–”
“Can I be honest with you?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t take this the wrong way or anything, but… I feel kinda comforted that you’re not as used to this as you thought you’d be.”
“What?”
“It’s not– It’s not like I enjoy seeing you fail or upset or something, it’s just… It makes me feel better knowing I’m not the only one struggling. Especially coming from the guy who's always been leagues ahead of me. That make sense?”
It did. It really did. Because for as many people who he knew had aced those tests in his classes, there were still many who he knew had also struggled to revise or score high. He also knew he wasn’t the only one pulling an all-nighter tonight, which made him feel slightly less pathetic and alone.
He didn’t want to stay up all night, and a part of him debated asking for an extension, but he didn’t. Partially because he didn’t want it to take away from his grade, partially because he didn’t want to feel lesser than his classmates who were already staying up all night, and partially for his own pride.
He knew his studies should never come at the cost of his health, and that if he made one exception, he’d start making more. But this really was the only time. This entire process had taught him a very valuable lesson about time management that he really didn’t want to repeat. But still.
His eyes strained to read the clock on the wall next to him in the dark, before remembering that he had the time on his screen, only to then remember that he could have just read from the wall clock anyway since he was already looking at it. He blamed it on being tired. It was two am. He had started finishing everything off at five pm. Class was in five hours. Ah.
He didn’t care. He really didn’t care. As long as this was done by nine am, he was done, he was free ( for now ). And even better, he had just finished his bibliography and closed down the side tab for the article as he waited for it to save.
Now for the activity log we forgot to fill in– Well that’s what his search history was for! He opened the activity log on one tab and his search history on the other and put them into split screen view and began filtering through his history.
Louis Armstrong
New Orlean’s style
Major ii-V-I
Cool Jazz
Duke Ellington
Early development jazz Mahnoor Rahim
Blues
Ragtime
Classical influence
Jazz chords
Modern Jazz
Louis Armstrong impact jazz Kim Yoonji
For the slightly more scattered dates, he just put the date that had the most searches between and wrote down everything he searched that day, ending with yesterday just so he wouldn’t be judged for his time management mark for doing it all today. He began typing up the last paragraph, arms dead, yawning for the fifth time that night when a knock came on his door.
He stiffened. If his father caught him awake at this time he would– another knock. Crap. He needed to turn this off. But our activity log– But father! – Turn it–!
“Toya? Are you in?”
Oh. Oh, that was okay. He sighed, almost yawning again.
“Yes.”
“May I come in?”
“Yes.”
The door opened. He squinted at the sudden intrusion of light. Truthfully, he hadn’t even realised it had gotten dark until he looked out his window at the three hour mark since starting. He hadn’t gotten up to turn off the light out of fear of losing focus.
His brother stood in the doorway, holding a plate of something. Right, he was back home for a few days for his Osaka concert. It was hard to remember he was even there when he spent all his time focusing on studies and practice, which just gave him another thing to feel terrible about.
“Toya?”
“Yes?” His brother just looked at him, pale silver eyes gleaming in the sudden burst of golden light. It felt like looking directly at the sun. “Is everything alright, nii-san?”
Shuuchi nii-san just stood there, staring observantly for a moment more before,
“Have you eaten?”
Had he? He remembered eating before sitting down, but not after that. He shook his head slowly.
“No. Not for dinner.”
“It’s almost breakfast now.” It was a joke. Toya huffed, but it just came out like a pathetic gasp for breath. His brother looked at him again. “I’ve brought this.” He gestured with the plate. The silhouette didn’t look like any traditional meal they’d have at home.
Shuuchi nii-san walked over with the plate, the food becoming much clearer as he came closer. It looked like…
“Bread?”
He nodded. Did-Did he make-? Nevermind, we only have a few more entries on this log before we’re done. “I’ll eat it in a while. I need to finish this.” He turned back to the screen. His brother took the seat next to him.
“I’m well aware.” He placed the plate down on the table next to the crooked keyboard with a clink, the spoon Toya didn’t even realise was there rattling slightly. “But it’s better to eat an early breakfast than no dinner, especially once you’ve reached this stage.”
Toya sighed. Right. His brothers had been through this before, and he had barely known them for eating, so if he of all people was trying to convince him to eat…
His hands slipped away from the keyboard despite every protest his brain made that ‘ it was almost done anyway! Just finish it, then eat. Eat as much as you'd like, but after.’ He shifted on his seat towards his brother, eyes landing on the plate.
“What is this?” He looked at it, too tired to hide the confusion.
“One of my peers showed me how to make it in New York” – he picked up the spoon, handing it to Toya – “It’s surprisingly efficient for something so simple.”
Toya took it, looking back down.
“It’s miso soup. In bread.”
“A bread bowl,” he corrected. “A bowl cut out bread with food filled inside.”
“Do I eat the bread?” He asked cautiously, aware of how stupid it sounded.
“After you finish the soup.”
At that, Toya nodded, taking a spoonful and putting it in his mouth. It tasted like bliss, though that was likely due to not having eaten anything in the last… what time was it now?
“Do you want to call Natusomi nii-san?”
Toya’s head snapped towards him. What?
“What?”
“Do you want to call him?”
Toya put the next spoonful in his mouth and swallowed before continuing.
“Wouldn’t-Wouldn’t he be busy?” His brother performed at concerts on the other side of the world. Surely the timezones wouldn’t line up like this. And even if they did, he would probably be busy practising or performing right now. His brother just looked at him, arm resting on the table edge.
“No, not right now. It’s five-thirty pm in Atlanta” – he shifted so his hands were resting on his knees – “He’s probably just finished putting everything back in his apartment.”
Atlanta , apartment ; these were terms he had only ever seen in textbooks or heard in film. He knew they were real, of course they were, but to think it was a place outside of just movies and pictures that his brothers had actually lived in… He had been to New York before but even then, it was a more commonly mentioned city, and he had stayed in a dorm. It still produced a sense of wonder in him, even with his activity log we still haven’t finished–
“How do you know?” He knew his brothers were somewhat close, but to think they knew each other’s schedules this intimately?
His brother took his phone out of his pocket – a model he had bought in America , Toya noticed – the tiny rectangle making its small contribution to the increasing number of lights in the room and opened it with his fingerprint.
“I used to call him when I was in college,” he paused, opening his contacts, “Even in University, he guided me through the first few weeks,” he answered nonchalantly.
“Really?” To think his brother had needed help, from their eldest as well… Natsuomi nii-san always seemed so closed off, especially towards Shuuchi nii-san. He wondered what had happened in the years they weren’t at home.
“Do you want to or not?”
“Sorry,” Toya continued, “It’s just a little difficult to understand.” He looked down at the ‘bread bowl’, half of it already empty.
Shuuchi nii-san sighed. He lowered his phone and turned to him.
“Toya,” he started. Toya looked up at him. “It doesn’t matter whatever relationship he has with me. He will always make time for you. I promise.”
Toya’s grip on the spoon only tightened.
“He didn’t like that I had started–”
“Neither of us did.” Toya almost winced at the admission. “It hurt our pride to see you given all the freedom we had wished for for years. It hurt to see you succeed so easily where we had failed.” Distantly, Toya thought back to what Akito had said about finding comfort in knowing he was failing too. He wondered why we didn’t think the opposite could also be true.
‘Where we had failed’ Wait, did that mean–
“Do you want to call him or not? He won’t be free for much longer. His manager is strict on screen time.”
Toya eyed his computer, which was now playing the screensaver due to inactivity.
Sure. Why not?
He looked back up at Shuuchi nii-san, who now had that token tinge of hidden annoyance on his features that Toya had gotten so used to in their childhood. He relaxed internally at the familiarity.
“If it doesn’t bother him.” At that, the call sound went off, filling the room.
A few seconds of annoying buzzing filled the room. Then,
“Aren’t you supposed to be resting, Shuuchi?” He pressed speaker mode and put the phone on the table.
“I am. How was the concert?”
“I think some people have bought repeat tickets.”
“So they’ve taken a liking to you.”
“I think it’s something more severe than a ‘liking’.”
He shot Toya a quick glance, some emotion behind it that he couldn’t decipher. Amusement, perhaps? Then he thought of what was being implied and huffed a little. “Is someone there with you?”
“Yes.” He handed the phone to Toya. He talked awkwardly into the speaker.
“Hello, nii-san.”
The line was silent for a few moments. Toya almost recoiled at the lack of response and handed the phone back. Did he not– Then, tentatively,
“…Toya?” Toya nodded, then realised he couldn’t see him.
“Yes, it’s me.”
“Toya,” he said again. He sounded slightly… ‘happier’ this time? Was that it? “How have you been?”
“I’ve been working on my dissertation,” he replied, the exhaustion seeping through.
“Your… dissertation?” He sounded slightly confused. “Oh, you’re in college now. Right.” He didn’t need another reminder. “How is it?”
“Not how I imagined…” That drew a light huff from the other end of the line as well as from right next to him. Natsuomi nii-san hummed.
“It never is. What is your topic on?”
“How jazz music emerged and its significance in the modern portrayal of music.”
“Ah. I know the topic a little.”
“Really?”
“I covered it when discussing the music styles that classical influenced. Are you stuck on anything?”
“Just my activity log for now. What was your topi–”
“It’s better not to ask him,” Shuuchi nii-san warned lightly. Toya took his advice.
“Shuuchi also knows a few musicians who are studying jazz. He could get you in touch.”
He could? He looked at him.
“I suppose. After you’ve finished your first draft.”
“Ah, the first draft deadline. Is it today?” Toya answered shamefully.
“Yes…” He knew these were his brothers, but they were still leagues ahead of him academically. Years of being compared to them still made it difficult to admit he was worse than them at something. There was a slightly louder huff – nearly a chuckle, but more grounded – from the phone.
“Which part?”
“Nii-san…” Shuuchi nii-san complained.
“I just finished my bibliography. Now I’m finishing my activity log,” he continued, still filled with shame.
“Don’t be ashamed,” Natsuomi nii-san said, “You’ve made excellent progress considering the timing. I knew people who had to finish their bibliographies, activity logs, conclusions and rewrite the entirety of the dissertation to meet the word count on the last day. Shuuchi wasn’t much better either.” The said person shifted next to him. “If you’re concerned about such things, you can leave me a message. I have a little more free time these days now that I’m somewhat established in my career.”
“You don’t have to,” Toya tried.
“I do. We did not spend as much time together when we were children. I am now at a point where I can make make time again, and I refuse to waste it. It is my duty as your brother, so I cannot live my entire life without having played some role in yours, especially when you are in such a demanding set of studies. I don’t wish for you to have to brave the same struggles I have had to when I am able to offer assistance.”
“I… don’t have your number,” Toya realised.
“Ah. Shuuchi can give it to you after. I understand your street music friends are likely involved in their own studies. If there’s anything you are unsure of… I’m sure by this point you’ve learnt that asking for help is the much better alternative to trying to understand it yourself. Ask Shuuchi while he’s home or leave me a message. I will check.”
Toya felt something strange bubble inside him at his brother’s words. It may have been because he had spent so much of his life wishing for the warmth of a family, or it could have just been that he was tired from spending almost twelve straight hours on his work, or that he had wanted something like this for so long that now he didn’t know what to do with it, or a combination of all three. But to finally have his home start feeling like a home , with his father’s growing leniency on him, his Shuuchi nii-san’s less rough nature since coming home three days ago, his brothers’ finally being there for him in the way he had always wanted, and at the exact moment in time where he just needed life outside of school to be a little kinder to him… It felt too good to be true, and he didn’t know how to feel about that except this overwhelming burst of relief and happiness that he made it to this point. We made it. He just…
“Thank you, nii-san.”
“It’s no problem, Toya. Frankly, life in Atlanta isn’t as exciting when visiting for the third time.”
The third time. Wow.
Shuuchi nii-san spoke up.
“If you miss us, perhaps you should video call.”
Natsuomi nii-san went quiet. Then, with a waver they wouldn’t have noticed should they not have grown up together,
“My room isn’t suitable for display right now.”
Shuuchi nii-san faintly smiled. Toya stared.
“You’ve been getting more unorganised these days.”
“It’s been busy with the constant moving. But I am not any more proud of it than I was before.”
“Your leniency mirrors father’s.”
“Father’s?”
“I’m not sure what Toya’s done to him,” he shot a glance at Toya, who smiled bashfully, “but it works in our favour.”
“Your tone has become more relaxed since your time in New York.”
“I’ve been in good company.”
“You should visit,” Toya interjected.
Another moment of silence.
“Alright. I will try.” And that was all he needed. “I have to leave for the afternoon performance now.”
“Good bye, nii-san.”
“Good bye, Toya. I wish you the best on your project.”
“Thank you,” he smiled and handed the phone back to his brother.
“Good bye, nii-san,” then, “I wish many fans attend your performance,” he added. A sigh.
“I hope all the cards show tens for you. Goodbye. Enjoy your break.” And with that, he hung up, the line going dead.
Toya took a moment to relax, to think. He had just had a conversation with his eldest brother in Atlanta , who had asked him to turn to him if he ever needed and had been given a New York ‘bread bowl’ from his second eldest which–
“Ah,” he realised, staring disappointedly down at the cold miso soup. “I’m sorry. I wasted the food.” The food his brother had went out of his way to make for him…
“Don’t worry. This is strangely easy to make. Besides, there are much more important things to focus on than this.” Right. “But on that note,” he started, sliding back the chair and standing up, picking up the plate, “Finish the rest when you wake up.” But he was almost done– “The three hours of sleep you have will be infinitely more valuable. Trust me.”
His instinct to just finish it now started up again, but after having taken that much needed break, he realised just how heavy his body felt and how badly his eyes were straining. Just thinking of a screen hurt his head. His brothers had been through this before as well, so…
Before he could convince himself otherwise, he turned towards the monitor and pressed the windows button, focusing his attention on nothing but the power button before pressing shut down. In the morning , he decided. In the morning.
He tucked in his chair and turned off the lamp, walking limply to the bed and collapsing onto it sideways, only realising this when half his body was lying off the bed and he felt no pillows. He intended to move, but… he yawned. Just a few more moments… and he would move… he was sure…
He dreamt of bakeries and piano-chiming bells, and stayed in deep sleep until morning.