pledged to you forever, for worse or for better

Something was wrong with Shoto.

Touya didn’t know what, but he knew it was true. He could feel it starting to ball up in his chest, tense and hot, fear crowding out the space meant for his lungs. It stops him in the middle of what he’s doing, makes him spin his chair away from his desk with half-wide eyes, hands flexing with the instinct to catch and balance something. Someone. Shoto doesn’t come tripping through the door, though. No one does. Touya’s hands fall into his lap, one quiet thmp after another, and he sinks back into his chair again.

The tight, tight squeeze in his chest subsides almost as quickly as it came. Just there long enough to let him know something was going on. But as soon as that feeling goes away, phantom pain bursts in through both knees, one elbow and shoulder. Touya hisses and quickly grabs his suddenly-throbbing arm. His first thought was just the usual--that Shoto was just off training, and Dad had backed him into a corner or something--but Touya feels more like he just fell down a flight of stairs. And, after he spends a few moments hissing out the pain, he remembers that Shoto went out earlier this afternoon. Hopped on his bike and left.

Touya shouldn't be worried. They're old enough to take care of themselves. If Shoto did something stupid and got hurt, then that's on him. He should know better. Know better than to damage Dad's masterpiece. The thought makes Touya seethe. Once upon a time, he would have jumped up and gone looking for his twin without a second thought. That is, after all, what the sixth sense they share is for. Now... Touya is more inclined to finish his game. He doesn't want to be worried.

...but it creeps in anyway, wriggling up his throat. He can't even focus on the game he'd had running when he turns around to face his computer again. His mind drifts, and he thinks about the way that sense of fear had hit him before anything else. I don't care, he tries hard to tell himself. He can get home by himself. Touya's leg swings, energy growing restless. He watches the pause screen flash back at him. Then he groans, drags a hand down his face, and stomps out of his room. He doesn't bother with goodbyes when he stops by the door, just changes his shoes and hurries to grab his own bike.

It doesn't take too long to find Shoto. It's like their freaky twin sense leads Touya right to him. He hits a corner hard, swerving around it with a dangerous lean, and he almost spills ass-over-ears when he has to suddenly grind his heel against the pavement to keep from crashing directly into his brother. Shoto is dragging his bike along, with his pants torn at the knees and blood leaking down his elbow. His hair is tousled and even his face looks a little banged up; or at least, looks disgruntled. Touya wobbles a little more before he gets his balance fully, then he levels an accusatory glare on Shoto.

"What'd you do? Fall?" He asks, a wrinkle forming in his nose. He's relieved to see Shoto looks okay, beyond the spots of blood around his arm, but he frowns like he wishes Shoto had fallen down a rocky hill. Touya scoffs and, after giving Shoto several look-overs, jerks his head to look across the street. "I felt it," he murmurs. "...dumbass. Be more careful."