Chapter 1: Haru
The first time I met Aiden Davis was when I was eight years old, when Mom, my older brother Reo, and I had just arrived in New York and landed at the airport. It was during winter, and I had a terrible cold during the entire flight.
Aiden, who was sixteen years old at the time, walked straight up to me, took my small, cold hands into his large, warm ones, and said, "Hello, Haru. My name is Aiden. I've heard so much about you from Dad and I'm glad to finally meet you. We're going to be brothers soon. Isn't that great? I'm going to take good care of you."
All I could do was stare at his refreshing smile, mesmerized. For an eight-year-old Japanese boy who had lived in a small town all his life where there were hardly any Westerners around, I found the sight of Aiden fascinating. I thought his blond hair and hazel-green eyes beautiful.
I felt drawn to him.
Brothers? We were going to be brothers, he said, and it made my heart swell with joy that we were going to be one big, happy family: Mom; my new dad, Michael Davis; new brothers, Aiden, Noah, Mason, and Isaac; and Reo and me.
That joy, however, only lasted five years, because just after their fifth wedding anniversary Mom and Stepdad passed away in a motor vehicle accident. That joy had swiftly and unapologetically turned to sorrow. Slowly and surely though, that sorrow turned to determination, hard work, and eventually joy again, because the six brothers had stuck together through thick and thin. For me personally, that joy started turning to agony three years ago, all for a different reason, and the handsome face that had used to mesmerize me now pissed me off.
"Haru? Wake up! It's already half past seven." Aiden's deep-timbred voice insistently nagged at me.
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