a brother and son

Chunhua was counting down the days until her baby brother's fourth birthday. They shared a room now, as Haoyu was too scared to be left on his own during the night. Even if he was too young to understand, she could tell that he had some semblance of an idea as to what was going on. Or, perhaps, she was just that bad at concealing the sad feeling that washed over her whenever he brought up Mama and Baba. Despite his fears, though, Haoyu had made a promise that he would go back to his old room the moment he turned four. It wasn't one Chunhua expected him to keep, after all, he was only a toddler, her little Ā Yǔ. The more sleep she lost, though, the more hope she had.

  She wasn't able to go overseas for her commissions anymore. She worked from home, sketching with white pencil on blue paper in whatever way her clients wished, an endless stream of emails in between the photos she took using the highest quality digital camera she could find on such short notice. Shenzhen was an industrial city, so the man behind the cash register had been more than happy to have a customer. He practically applauded Chunhua as she made her purchase, completely unaware that she wasn't going to be taking pretty photos of the cityscapes or be going out camping with her non-existent family. All she was doing was adding to the productive life of the city.

  Days were always at their calmest whilst Haoyu was at daycare. There was scarcely a difference, it was just that now instead of having to deal with an actual child that actually needed looking after, she had to deal with men who acted like children when the plans Chunhua emailed them weren't their exact vision. She almost snapped at one, she almost said that she was now not only a fifteen-year-old professional architect, but her brother's sole caretake and provider, and that he didn't have the right to treat her that way because he had always been hand-fed by the most expensive servants his mommy and daddy could afford him. Then she realised she couldn't afford to lose a client to her temper in her current situation, and she pressed backspace on her entire rant. 

  Chunhua had, of course, dropped out of normal school the moment she had uncovered her Ultimate so she could pursue the career it gave her. She had always expected to go back when Hope's Peak sent her a letter, but she couldn't now. She couldn't imagine leaving Haoyu in the hands of a stranger. For what? So she could go to a school that she didn't need to go to? She was already the Ultimate, it wasn't a title people could take from her, how could they possibly enhance what she was already the best at? Besides. She spent all day doing commission work. There wasn't anything that they could teach her that she wasn't already an expert in.

Haoyu's fourth birthday was something special. Not only was Chunhua excited to finally have a room of her own again, as it had been whilst she'd been travelling for work, but she had prepared a special event just for him. She helped him put on his favourite outfit, a blue shirt with little ducks around the hemline and matching shorts, and then buckled him into his pushchair. She had made sure to be appropriately dressed as well, a long black shirt that reached her knees coupled with a long green skirt to match her hair, with some chunky black boots just in case. Even if she was an architect, she enjoyed looking after her appearance, and dying her hair was a fun distraction from her otherwise business-heavy life. 

  She and her brother left their apartment building and went down the street, ignoring the way people whispered and stared. Being a public figure meant you had no privacy, something Chunhua was well accustomed to by this point, but some of the rumours she couldn't help but overhear... that's Chunhua the Architect, they said, thinking she couldn't hear them. Her parents died recently, do you know how? I heard it was a plane crash. I heard it was suicide. I heard she did it. That's her little brother, did you know? Really? I thought it was her son. She always did look a little round, don't you think? Sometimes she wished she could smack them upside the head.

  The bell rung as she pushed open the door of the small restaurant, a sweet little sound that made her brother giggle. A waitress instantly rushed to her side, fumbling with her words as she tried to get the two of them to the table Chunhua had reserved. It was sweet, how much she cared. She had even made sure to prepare a cushion for Haoyu to sit on so he could reach the table properly. They were in a back room, tucked away from the rest of the world. Or, at least, the rest of the restaurant. Haoyu giggled the entire time, proud of just how much of a special boy he was, unaware of everything Chunhua had gone through just to get them this one special moment for his birthday.

  "Huá Jiě," Haoyu said, with a mouth full of noodles. Chunhua better drill some more manners into him when they got home. "Thank you."

  "Eh?"

  "I see you, on your computer," he said, and Chunhua almost didn't care about his lack of manners anymore. Almost. "You look angry sometimes. It's scary when you're angry."

  "Oh, Ā Yǔ--"

  "But you got me here for my birthday. We haven't been here since before mama and baba went away. I miss it. Thank you."

  Haoyu went back to eating his dinner, and Chunhua smiled. So what if she wasn't going to have the life she hoped for anymore. Her baby brother was here, and that was all that mattered. It was all that would ever mattered. So long as Haoyu was here, Chunhua knew she would be alright. She would have to be, for him.