It’s weird writing this to you when your bedroom is on the other side of this wall. I could go and wake you, but then, I’m not sure I want you to see what’s inside my head right now.
Do you remember when we first moved to separate rooms? D’you really think that Haruhi is the reason we changed so much?
Maybe she is. I was never really that sure.
I called her last night. Haruhi, that is. I was on the side of the road, I was drunk, and I just… called her. She told me to stay put while she called someone to pick me up. How did she know who to call? Did she call Kyouya-senpai and he sent someone?
I dunno. I don’t remember what the guy looked like. He had messy hair-- I think-- and tattoos on his hand. Maybe. I was pretty drunk. I’ll be honest, I don’t remember most of the drive. I remember a glimpse of the guy, and then it was morning.
Did you meet him? Did he ring the doorbell, wake you up, and hand me over to you? Maybe. For all I know, he did. Or maybe he just abandoned me on the porch and you took pity on me before you left for the airport. Maybe I just stumbled through the house. That’s probably what happened.
If I told you, I know you’d just sigh and tell me that I should drink less. You’d use the exasperated voice you learned from Dad, too, and that’d make the whole thing worse.
Maybe that’s why I’m writing this to you. So you won’t fuss.
Don’t worry, little brother. I might do some dumb shit, but I’ve gotten a bit better at pulling my head out of my ass.
Holy shit, I’m philosophical when I’m hungover. I need a nap.