FANFIC: fix you
5 May 2018 07:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cyanoscarletWord count: 2,997
Phichit takes his older sister out on a date to help her get over a breakup.
(Related piece to "If it ain't broke, don't fix it.")
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[image: A pair of dark-skinned hands linked together, both wearing multicolored LED bracelets, against a backdrop of fireworks and a lighted concert stage]
phichit+chu lights will guide you home #coldplayinbkk #datewithsis
Liked by yuuri-katsuki, @+guanghongji+ and 45,639 others
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"Anyway, gotta go. Wish me luck! Say hi to Mom and Anchalee for me."
A split-second of silence passed before Siriwan's tinkling laugh came over the line. "We'll all be watching tonight. And say hi to Yuuri for me, yeah?" From the corner of Phichit's eye, he could see Yuuri perking up at hearing his name and waving at the screen shyly.
"Haha, he says hi back," Phichit grinned. "Bye for real, sis."
"Bye for real. Do your best." He didn't miss the slight hitch in his sister's breath before she ended the call. Phichit sat down on the bed once more, contemplating the dark screen of his phone morosely. He could tell at once from Siriwan's voice that something was wrong. To anyone else, she would have sounded no different from her upbeat self, but not to him - not to his trained eyes and ears, not to their close bond of twenty years.
Throughout the conversation, not once did Siriwan mention how Aroon, her boyfriend, had been doing. Just a few days ago, she had proudly showed off via Skype Call the pair of tickets she'd gotten for the upcoming Coldplay concert in Bangkok in a week. Phichit had jokingly remarked that he was quite jealous of her, but more than that, he was happy for the both of them, as they could finally take a break from their rigorous medical school life and celebrate their anniversary together.
From what little signs he just picked up, however, Phichit could only guess that that "Happy Anniversary" isn't happening anytime soon.
In a way, he now understood how Yuuri must have felt at the Sochi GPF, the nagging worry over his dog's condition eating away at the back of his mind like weak embers on decaying firewood, and how all the build-up eventually affected his free skate. As it were, Phichit was dying to ask his sister what happened, but he had sensed her deflecting his concern before he could even raise it, with all her constant reminders for him to stretch properly and to keep the stress-eating to a minimum.
Typical Siriwan, Phichit thought with a sigh. A mix of Mom's warmth, Dad's chill, and the patented Chulanont-Cheeriness, Siriwan Chulanont is a wonderful older sister, and he is proud that she is his.
Phichit rose from the bed, determined. Now's not the time to worry; it's the time to make her proud.
-
Three days later, Phichit came home to a boisterous bungalow, with luggage in tow and silver medal in hand. The mouth-watering smell of Aunt Malai's signature phat si-io wafted from the kitchen, while Mom was ushering the other relatives into the dining area, where steaming red curry and grilled pandan leaf chicken were already served. Everyone's congratulations rang in his ears, and his hands were sweaty from all the incessant handshaking by his aunts and uncles.
A pair of warm hands covered Phichit's eyes from behind, causing him to almost lose his balance. He landed on a soft but steady chest, while strong, feminine arms enveloped his shoulders to break his fall. The hands left his eyes soon as they came, and Phichit whirled around, coming face to face with his sister.
"Phii-sao!" he exclaimed, his wide grin matching Siriwan's as she enveloped him in a tight hug. She smelled like jasmine and hospital disinfectant, as always, and there were smudges of ink on her hands and face. Typical sis.
"Hey, kiddo," she rasped. "Congrats on the silver!"
"Thanks, sis!" Phichit let go of Siriwan, raising the shiny medal he'd won from the Golden Spin up for her to see. Behind him, his younger cousins, nephews and nieces expressed awestruck "Oooh"s and "Ahhh"s in different lengths and octaves. His younger sister, Anchalee's, was noticeably the loudest and most drawn-out. She had earlier mentioned via Skype right after the medal ceremony that she was hardly impressed, but her current reaction proved completely otherwise.
Siriwan herself was beaming, as well. Phichit’s heart swelled with pride, remembering how, when they were kids, she was his loudest cheerleader at national competitions. Even now, she still continued that tradition, despite the distance, time difference and her busy schedule at medical school. He still had the notes on bandaging techniques that she made him copy, and he had to admit, it served him and his fellow skaters quite well.
It had been co-written by Aroon, as well, Phichit thought ruefully. The worry that had been creeping in his mind before his free skate returned in full force, and he found himself reaching out to grasp his sister’s hand.
“Sis,” he began weakly. “Are you okay?”
“Of course.” Siriwan’s smile widened, but Phichit felt her warm hands suddenly freeze at the question. “Why do you ask?”
Phichit gulped, looking away. “I mean-- before the competition, you--”
“I’m fine,” Siriwan repeated, possibly quite more forcefully than she had intended. Her narrowed eyes and wan smile betrayed her cheery words, and Phichit’s grip on her sagging hands softened. He knew-- he knew at once.
He did not know what to do.
It took no time at all for Siriwan to recover, however, and she started chuckling in his eight o'clock direction. "The longer you spend worrying about little old me, the longer it will take for you to find where Anchalee hid it," she advised, briefly glancing at his right hand, which, for some reason, felt a lot lighter.
"Eh- What?" Phichit looked around and on the floor, realizing that he was no longer holding his medal. Anchalee's squeal from the back porch gave her away, and he immediately gave chase as the adults laughed. He turned back to see Siriwan smiling widely, the tiredness in her eyes accentuated by dark circles and what he thought looked like red, puffy eyelids.
"Go on," she insisted, putting down her bags by the sofa and going over to Mom's direction, sticking out her tongue for good measure. A faint, tired laugh escaped Phichit's lips as he looked forward once more to chase Anchalee.
-
That night, Phichit found Siriwan studying on the front porch, a pair of green headphones around her ears. As he approached, he could hear faint English lyrics coming out of it, while she hummed softly in time with the music. “The Scientist” by Coldplay, he recognized. Whether the song was only playing by coincidence or it had been intentionally chosen for the moment is anyone’s guess.
Before long, Phichit found himself singing the refrain softly to himself. The lyrics were sad, powerful, mournful. He could only watch as Siriwan clutched the pair of concert tickets close to her chest as a tear escaped the corner of her eye. “No one ever said it would be so hard,” she softly whimpered.
Phichit sprung forward at once and hugged his sister, letting his tears stain the front of her shirt. “I’m so, so sorry,” he sobbed quietly. “I wasn’t here when you needed me the most.” He watched as Siriwan’s expression transformed from startled to vulnerable to accepting. With a soft smile, she held him close, stroking his hair.
“You did your best, like I asked you to,” Siriwan assured. “It’s more than enough. Thank you.”
She then kissed Phichit’s hair gently, like she always had whenever he came to her crying as a kid. Her soft-spoken words washed over his troubled mind like a calm, gentle wave and a healing salve to his burdened heart. Night crickets chirped softly in the distance, dampening the mournful silence between them.
“Hey, sis,” Phichit whispered after a while, “are you really…”
“Yeah, we broke up,” Siriwan confirmed, her voice quiet and resigned. “It was actually a long time coming now, but sometimes I still feel that it was all too sudden, you know?” She sighed wearily. “Like the past seven years have been wiped out in an instant.”
Phichit sad nothing, letting Siriwan stroke his hair. He had absolutely no experience with romantic love whatsoever. Like many athletes his age, he had been preoccupied with competitions, training, studying. In a way, though, he somehow understood what it means and how it feels, having witnessed its many different emotions through the years, first from his sister, then from his best friend.
He did not have the slightest idea on how to deal with heartbreak, however.
Phichit wondered what Yuuri would do if he were in this situation. He’d cry, too, for starters, maybe end up being comforted himself - the guy’s earnest like that. Late night talks on the front porch, with steaming mugs of hot chocolate in hand. Soft music playing in the background. Lots and lots and lots of hugs. Those were things Phichit knew he would do himself - things he did for many a college friend and fellow rinkmate, but, for some reason, when it came to his own sister, he was completely, utterly lost. It was a strange feeling to have their roles reversed this time, with her crying on his shoulder and him comforting her, and he was nothing short of terrified.
“He’s an ass, you know,” Phichit finally spoke. “You deserve much better than him.”
“I know,” Siriwan agreed with a sad smile. “I guess life’s unpredictable like that. Still, who would’ve thought?” She let out a small despondent chuckle as she picked up the fallen tickets off the floor. “And I was looking forward to this concert, too. At least he didn’t take these back.”
Phichit laughed at the quip, making a mental note to maybe give Aroon a good punch when he sees him at the hospital again. This he was sure brothers of all ages did for their sisters - just not in public. Especially not in public.
Before he knew it, Siriwan swiftly placed the tickets in his hands. “Here you go,” she grinned. “Take a friend with you. You more than deserve the break after winning. I’ll talk to Celestino for you tomorrow.”
“Wait, what?” Phichit gaped at her in surprise. “I can’t take these! They’re yours, sis! You take your friend with you,” he argued, giving back the tickets and forcefully closing her hand around them with his. This only earned a good-natured laugh out of his sister.
“Oh, come on, Phichit,” Siriwan insisted, wrestling her hand out of his and pinning his right arm onto her lap. “I’m your older sister; just do as I say,” she said with finality as she placed the tickets on his forcefully outstretched palm.
Phichit, too, sighed in defeat. There was no way he could say no to her now after she had successfully used the older sister card, especially given how she had just rendered him immobile in a matter of seconds. It was funny how, even with the highly-conditioned body of a figure skater, he could still not beat her in terms of raw strength. Maybe it was her determination and will “as the older sister” at work here. He honestly didn’t know, and didn’t want to know.
“All right, sis, I’ll take these,” Phichit waved the tickets before keeping them in his pocket. “Thanks for the gift.”
Siriwan nodded, pocketing her music player and standing up to arrange her books. “You should go to sleep. You’ve had a long day.”
“You, too, sis,” Phichit echoed back, hugging his sister from behind. “Good night. I love you.”
Siriwan smiled and ruffled the front of his hair. “Love you back, little bro.”
-
It was the day of the concert, and he couldn’t think of a single significant enough person to bring there tonight. This was not to say that he had no friends here at home - it only happened that his most important ones are either married to the love of their life, living abroad, or both. He had momentarily thought of bringing Anchalee along, but she had absolutely no interest whatsoever in anything that isn’t K-pop, Korean, or both.
It was nearing five o’clock in the afternoon now, and the event starts in three hours. Phichit finally decided to go out by himself and see whomever he can grab to join him on short notice. He was so lost in thought that he almost ran into Siriwan as she changed out of her uniform shoes at the doorstep.
“Oh hey,” she greeted him first. “You’re already going there? Who’s going with you?”
Phichit swallowed audibly, lost for words. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that he’s only going by himself, and that the other ticket is only going to waste. It really was such a shame; it isn’t everyday an international act as big as Coldplay comes to perform in his home country, after all.
Then suddenly, it all clicked in his mind.
He was appalled he hadn’t thought of this idea sooner.
Phichit opened his mouth at first, then closed it again, considering his words carefully. Siriwan cocked her head to the side, observing him curiously. Finally, he grabbed her arm resolutely and looked her in the eye.
“You, of course,” he answered with a grin. “Come on, sis! We’re gonna be late.”
“Phichit!” she protested, gathering her things to herself. “It’s okay; I’m not going!” Siriwan’s unusually flustered features are a side of her no one knows about, so he felt quite accomplished at successfully teasing it out of her.
Phichit only laughed in response and nudged her shoes back in front of her. “Phii-sao, I’m your younger brother. Please do as I say and come with me,” he said evenly, in a callback from last night’s conversation. Siriwan could only stare back at him dumbfoundedly before sighing in defeat.
“All right, you got me there, little bro,” she finally conceded, letting him hold her umbrella and personal bag. “Wait for me; I’ll just drop my other stuff off and freshen up.”
“Don’t take too long,” Phichit called out after her. “This isn’t a date.”
“It is, too,” Siriwan shot back, laughing. “Also, you sure are one to talk, when your primping time is always more than double mine.” She stuck out her tongue at him before running up the stairs.
Phichit had nothing to say against that. He was just glad he had his older sister back.
-
Halfway through the concert, Phichit understood why Siriwan loved the band so much.
He had to admit, he did not know much about Coldplay until tonight, only knowing a few of their more iconic songs, so to speak. He had always thought they were good, from classic “Viva La Vida” to the more recent “Something Just Like This.” It was why he found himself more than amazed with their live performance, at how the band completely enthralled and engaged their audience of more than fifty-thousand as they played hit after hit.
The elaborate stage lights, too, were a feast for the eyes, as was the sea of lights dotting the whole stadium from everyone’s Xylobands, electronically-controlled bracelets distributed before the show that changes colors depending on the song being performed. Being the photography enthusiast he was, Phichit was itching to bring out his phone and document the whole spectacle, but Siriwan had stopped him just as the second song started.
“Not today,” she mouthed the words to him, her features bathed in yellow light as the song named after its color began playing in the distance.
She knew him too well, Phichit mused. It wasn’t everyday he got to go out on a date, let alone with his own sister. He had decided that tonight was for her, after all. So he kept his promise, just for tonight.
Siriwan had shed a few tears throughout the night, overjoyed at finally getting to see one of her favorite acts live and up close. Phichit couldn’t help but recall their conversation the other night, how he found her crying while listening to “The Scientist.” Tonight, however, she wore a plethora of emotions on her sleeve, her tears now seeming to be a mix of joy and of sadness, of contentment and of resignation.
Phichit knew -- he knew his sister would be okay. And he’d be right by her side to support her.
“Fix You” came on next, and the stadium is bathed in bright red and yellow hues. The crowd came to a collective hush as the lead singer gently crooned “to those who loved and lost.” Red bracelets were slowly waved in the air as the audience sang together one of the most beautiful and powerful refrains of the night.
A gust of wind blew across Phichit’s face, leading him to notice the cold trail of tears down his cheeks. He turned to look at Siriwan, who was also crying silently while waving her left arm. “Lights will guide you home,” she sang brokenly but beautifully, earnestly believing in and holding on to every word.
He reached up to clasp Siriwan’s left hand, breaking her from the moment. She looked at their lighted joined hands, and then at him. Phichit silently brought out his phone as the song reached its crescendo near the end.
“May I?” he asked gently, and Siriwan could only chuckle at him, nodding silently.
Using his free left hand, Phichit unlocked his phone with a little difficulty, and struggled a bit more to steady his arm, positioning his camera on their linked hands, adorned with Xylobands currently glowing a beautiful rainbow, against the lighted main stage as a backdrop. He took the shot as soon as the camera was properly focused.
It was his only shot of the night, with no chance of doing it over, but it more than counted.
“Sis,” Phichit said, squeezing her hand tight. “I’ll always be here. And I will try to fix you.”
Siriwan gently squeezed back. “I know you will.”
