safety stars | bnhaxmalereader

~ prologue

You didn't really remember your parents.

You felt awful for it, of course. Your parents had done their damn best to raise you and give you and Chikaya a good life, and for a short while, Seika as well, but she had been born at the very end of your time with your parents, and after your parents, it'd been your brother, Chikaya who took on their role.

He was just out of his university, having studied at quite a prestigious university before applying and getting into one of the best training schools out there for aspiring officers, he was 22 and had only the money entrusted to him by your parents' wills, no job, a house he couldn't afford to keep, and two children - you, [Name] [Last Name], nine years old, and Seika, your little sister, who was barely over a year old.

It was incredible how well he'd managed his new responsibility.

Chikaya studied hard. He worked hard. He was the hardest working person you'd ever met, and your greatest inspiration. He was there for you more than you realized as a kid, and now, in your middle school years, you wanted to somehow repay him.

You were old enough now to help take care of SN - a role you took on diligently and eagerly, happy to help in any way you could. Though your preteen years especially were tough, as Chikaya struggled to make ends meet constantly while studying, after he'd been accepted into one of the most fundamental and largest police firms in the world and in Japan, his pay had been much, much better than the shoddy jobs he'd taken on during his studies, now, he could afford to lend you an allowance.

All of your allowance went into taking care of your dearest little sister, Seika. For you, your childhood from the moment you never saw your parents' faces ever again was raising Seika and helping Chikaya. He never expected you to take on such responsibilities, but you felt so incredibly guilty for not remembering your earlier years with your parents, and for not being able to truly outright help him, that when you were nine, you were learning how to get up in the middle of the night to cradle your sister, what formulas were cheap enough to afford but still nutritious enough for your sister, what toys she liked, the colors she liked, the dresses she liked, and learning how to tie hair, how to braid it, and that ribbons made her light up with joy, so it was also stealing ribbons from the art room after school on Tuesday, because that was when the teacher would be at a meeting, and it was learning things about your brother like the fact that even though you were raised in a Japanese village, he loved tteokbokki, and it was learning how to make his favorite dishes with whatever the hell you had.

From just two months after your ninth birthday, after you lost your parents, it was learning how to take care of a little sister who'd never be able to share your trauma of losing your parents, and it was learning how to also take care of your eldest brother, because even if he didn't realize your intention of taking care of everyone, it was a hot meal always on the table for him. It was the dishes already being done and put away. It was clean swept floors and homemade apartment decorations that made him smile when he entered the rooms.

It was being an awkward age to do everything you could imagine for your sister and brother, but it was something you learned to live with. You accepted your caretaker role. You learned to pride yourself in what you did, and you learned how to grow up before your age hit the double digits.

And so you began your first year of middle school with equal diligence. You paid close attention to your studies at school because at home you'd never have enough time to fervently study everything you missed. You still stole ribbons from the art rooms, but this time, you stole them on Thursdays, because the art teachers left early on Thursdays, not Tuesdays.

And it was being patient and still taking care of everyone after your brother got laid off from his firm, and had to work at a new one across the country in Musutafu, but near the ocean, not near the cities, where crime was high and the pay was low and the passion for Chikaya's passion at his firm was not nearly as high as he thought it would be.