Thwack! The arrow I had let fly penetrated the wooden balustrade behind the target, sounding out with a dull thud that echoed across the dewy morning. My shot was wide, I had missed. Again. I lowered my bow, and exhaled exuberantly. This was getting frustrating.
"It's not like you to miss like that, Takumi," came a low, confident, masculine voice from behind me. That would be my brother, Ryoma. Always the consummate judge of my skills.
"It's early," I muttered back. "I'm not awake yet."
His footsteps drew nearer, and he spoke with a chuckle, "And it's not like you to be out of bed so early either. If I had to guess, I'd say something's on your mind..."
I didn't turn to face him—I came out here to be alone. But he was right, he was always right. I hadn't slept well since we'd arrived at the Western Outpost, a small fortress near the border of the Kingdom of Nohr. There had been a few border skirmishes, and there was concern that war would break out. Ryoma and I had been sent to treat with the royal family of Nohr. That was our duty.
But that wasn't what was keeping me up at night.
I nocked an arrow, drew the bow taut, and loosed. Too quick! The arrow found the target this time, but inches from the bull's-eye. Not good enough. Two days ago I was splitting my own arrows down the middle, then we came to this miserable place, met with those snotty Nohrians... Those untrustworthy... And I can still see that bastard's face... How he looked down on me—
"Heh. Why don't I give it a shot?" Ryoma proposed, lighthearted as usual. I grit my teeth. Oh, how he seems to be taking all this in stride. He really is one for the throne. My heart felt heavy with scorn for my own brother.
Ryoma picked up a bow from the rack nearby, and loosed an arrow. "Bull's-eye!" he cheered when it found its mark on my target. He slapped me on the back, and went to return the bow..
I tasted acid. My hands shook, my knuckles white as I gripped Fujin-yumi. That bastard, he beat me out at swords, and now he's gonna beat me out at the bow, too?! I quivered, and it took everything not to snap.
It wasn't enough. I flung my bow to the ground and shouted, "What the hell do you know about it anyway?!" Tears burned hot at my eyes, I held them back, but I had less luck with my words. "What the hell do you know about me? You're too busy being perfect all the time!"
It wasn't often that I saw Ryoma without his fire-red armor, but this morning he wore only simple clothing, his long brown hair loose about his shoulders. My words had cut as I had intended. He scoffed lightly, barely a whisper at all, in an attempt to brush off my sudden outburst. His eyes did not meet mine as I stormed off.
