Dropping the groceries on the kitchen counter, Faysal sighed. Pressing his palms down against the marble, he arched to stretch his back, listening to it pop. Raising his head, his silent living room met his gaze. It didn’t change much. Looking around, he could only notice how empty his home felt instead of the comfort that normally being home brought him.

The bookcases pressed against the walls - filled with so many books that some were nearly spilling off the shelves - and the worn, soft arm chair were the only sign of life. Everything else was in its place, perfectly organized and neat, almost sterile when compared to his shelves. Shaking his head, Faysal turned his attention to sorting out the ingredients for dinner.

I’m just tired.

It’d been a long day, both before and after the nightmare of a meeting. Getting caught up in testing batch samples, advising other departments on improvements they could make to the formulas, and even just handling the massive amounts of paperwork had kept him on the move the entire afternoon. He didn’t know how he was going to juggle everything he did as part of his normal duties while visiting the Suzukis more often.

He needed a plan. He had no idea how to begin creating one.

Looking at the bag of vegetables in front of him, thrown haphazardly on the cutting board, Faysal leaned forward until his forehead hit the smooth surface. It couldn’t be helped, not when he had more pressing matters. His sister was likely on her way, a prospect he’d been looking forward to as he rushed through his errands. She oftentimes swung by after school to wait for their mother to pick her up, but once a week, the two of them would make dinner and watch a movie together. It was one of his favorite evenings, just the two of them spending time together.

Looking up at the clock, he quickly shoved the odds and ends from his shopping trip in the cabinets and the refrigerator, nearly missing the click of the entry door opening and the thud of a bag hitting the floor. “Oniichan, you home?!”

“When aren’t I?!” Faysal turned, leaning against the counter to grin in her direction. His younger sister appeared around the corner, her face rosy from the run up the stairs. “How was school? Did you manage to stay out of trouble?”

Snorting, she slid past him. Poking her head into the refrigerator, with a muffled voice, she muttered, “What’re you talking about? You’re the troublemaker, not me!”

“Says the one that’s about to steal the last of my tea,” he pointed out, snatching the bottle out of her hand and holding it just out of her reach. Making a happy squeal, Jessica jumped on his back. Wrapping one arm around his neck, she reached over his shoulder in a desperate grab for the drink. “Ugh, get off-”

“Give it back then!” she demanded, laughing. “It has my name on it!”

“It does no-” Turning the bottle in his hand, Faysal gaped. In bold, black ink, the teenager’s initials were scrawled across the label. Shrugging her off, he sighed, pressing it to his forehead. “You little monster! This is what you were doing in here last night before Mom came to get you!”

“I was just claiming what was rightfully mine,” she insisted, putting a hand out. Rolling his eyes, Faysal dropped it onto her awaiting palm.

“Brat, you’re lucky they’re restocking that tomorrow.” Returning to the pile of vegetables and tossing them into sorted piles, he added, “So… your classes?”

“Same as usual. I passed my math test today!” Pulling her sandy hair up into a tight ponytail, she beamed at him. “And I found out I can join the swim club! The first meeting is tomorrow night, so I won’t be over.”

“Congratulations on the test. I’m sure it was easy since you studied so hard for it like you’re supposed to, right?” Faysal cut the vegetables as Jessica worked on removing the strings of the snow peas he pushed her direction. “Does mom know you plan on joining? You know how she is about you staying after school…”

“Not yet, but it’ll look good when I graduate! I’m going to try convincing her tonight, but… uh… I wouldn’t mind some help?” Blatantly ignoring his question, Jessica gave him an enormous smile, tilting toward him.

“Considering you just helped yourself to my fridge, I don’t know if I’m feeling very charitable…” Faysal glanced over, getting a pleading look from the squirming teen. With a cheesy grin, Jessica pushed the half empty bottle back toward him. Completely shameless. Shaking his head, Faysal roughly placed his hand on the top of her head with a resigned sigh. He didn’t know why he bothered trying; he could never deny her. He remembered how much he’d had to fight with their mother when he’d wanted to participate in his school’s extracurriculars; it’d taken weeks of explaining how important they were to get her to come around, so even if he had wanted to deny helping his sister, he knew he wouldn’t. “I suppose I could find it in myself to give her a call. Your test? Studying?”

He turned on the stove, watching the oil he poured into the waiting frying pan slide over the smooth surface until he side eyed her.

“Easy peasy, lemon squeezy, and I studied just fine, MOM. How was work?” Jessica dumped the peas next to the rest. The oil popped with every vegetable he added to the pan. The aroma of the stir-fry seemed to fill the entire apartment. Mind drifting to his dilemma, Faysal cocked his head, looking down at their cooking dinner.

“Same as usual.” Faysal shrugged after getting a scowl from Jessica. It felt darkly humorous, playing everything off as normal when it was anything but. “Nothing fun. I just have some research the boss wants me to do, that’s all.”

Research. That’s certainly a word for it. Faysal wished he could laugh.

“What’re you researching? Is it something you’re working on with Dad?” Jessica started working on dessert as he hesitated to respond. She was only fourteen and not particularly aware of the true nature of what her father - and by extension, her brother - did for a living. Faysal barely knew what their father did, for that matter, a fact that made his neck prickle with unease after what he’d heard when leaving the meeting. Leaving his sister in the dark had been an intentional choice, mainly by Alexander’s hand, and Faysal wasn’t keen on changing it anytime in the near future if he could avoid it.

“In a manner of speaking, yes…” Faysal struggled to find the words he wanted to use. Jessica poked at his arm impatiently. “It’s nothing really worth talking about, honestly. Have you been helping Mom with her garden?”

Jessica crossed her arms and stared at him, annoyance darkening her face. It was like staring at himself; they both shared their mother’s sandy hair and their father’s light eyes. They also both had the same ability to make the other uncomfortable with a mere look, a skill she weaponized against him constantly. Usually with great success, to his chagrin. “Maybe I’d find it interesting,” she muttered.

Faysal stared at her, frowning. It couldn’t work this time, however, when his explanation would only create more questions he couldn’t answer. Not easily, anyway. “It’s just not something I’m comfortable talking about. It’s a sensitive topic. Drop it, please.”

“You’re lame.” As she placed the pudding into the refrigerator, Jessica popped her head above the door. The light from inside the appliance lit up her face. “When’re we taking that weekend trip you promised? Mom was asking so she could make plans.”

“As soon as I figure out how I’m going to get this new work assignment done, I promise we’ll go. I might need a few weeks. It’ll be a better season for it then, anyway.”

“Narashino is good any time of the year,” she grumbled, disappearing into the entry hall. Reappearing with her bag, she dumped it on the tiny dining table just in front of the counter before shuffling toward the couch. Faysal rolled his eyes, fondly turning them toward her as she threw herself down on the sofa.

“Pick a good one, I’m feeling some action!” His attention turning back to their food, he waited for the small telltale signs that it was done. He turned around to open the cabinet, yanking a pair of bowls out to ladle their dinner into. “We’ll get there, Jess. I haven’t forgotten about you. Yet.”

Hearing the television click on, Faysal narrowed his eyes. He peered in her direction. The remote held loosely in one hand, Jessica’s head turned toward him. Her mouth stretching, revealing her teeth, she flashed her middle finger at him. “Like you could.”