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[Elijah Edogawa]

Elijah never gravitated towards the Quidditch pitch, unless he was watching a game because it wasn't his thing. He liked it well enough but he was more interested in his classes and in charms or transfiguration, into the more academic stuff than he was into the physical aspects of flying or Quidditch like half of his family. But today, the pitch had called to him - not because of the sport itself, but because of who might be there. Jonah had seemed... off lately. Quieter than usual, his easy smiles replaced with something more strained. It wasn't like Jonah to let things weight him down without talking about them, but Elijah couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, and as much as he valued his own solitude, Eli knew he couldn't let his brother shoulders whatever it was alone.

The stands were empty, save for the occasional gust of wind rustling through the banners. Eli lingered by the edge of the field, hands stuffed into his pockets as he scanned the expanse of green. He wasn't sure if Jonah would be here - he could be in the common room, or off with friends - but this felt like a good place to start. Jonah loved Quidditch after all, and the pitch was like all of their second homes. Whenever any of them were struggling, flying usually did the trick. He shuffled his feet, glancing down at the grass before looking up again. “Jonah?” he called, his voice steady but not too loud, not wanting to disrupt the peace of the afternoon. Maybe Jonah would hear him. Maybe he wouldn’t. Either way, Eli was determined to wait. His brother deserved that much, at least.​

 

[Jonah Edogawa]

Jonah hadn't flown on his broom unless he needed to since that one Flying class. Needed to only include Quidditch. If he wasn't doing Quidditch then he remained with his feet on the ground. It felt weird sometimes because he'd always thought he was born to fly. But flying felt wrong most days. Quidditch barely felt right. Sometimes, he thought he was a fraud, and just managed to join the team because no one else tried out. And then managed to stay on the team because someone had left. He'd almost quit. But it felt wrong to disappoint people just because sometimes he thought he was a fraud. Sometimes though, sometimes, he'd find himself staying in the Pitch after practice ended and just be sitting up in the stands. He'd look out into the field and wonder what it was like to be standing here instead of flying out there. Or he'd look out further than the Pitch. He's not quite sure what he looks out to on those times, but sometimes it was just nice to stick with the quiet air. He hadn't been sitting up in the stands for very long when he heard Elijah call out to him. He debated between answering and just leaving the boy be. It only took a second longer to plaster a grin he didn't quite feel on his face. "Elijah. Need anything?" he calls out loudly as he grabs his broom debating on flying down or taking the stairs.​