Kasuka had somehow wound himself into the position of that of his brother, on his worst days. It had been more of a subconscious habit at the time, likely a delayed reaction to the grief his brother withheld when doubting his own humanity.

Somehow he'd managed to pick the worst place to display any hint of his emotion.

The bell had rung, resounding happily in the ears of the children expectantly awaiting recess. Upon hearing that bell, he had practically already claimed his spot underneath the shady tree, onlooking the playground; thus was his usual routine throughout the majority of his primary years. More often than not he was content with the everlasting peacefulness, save for the occasional stares of his peers who were unable to fathom his declination of participating in typical playground activities.

On a day like today, the solemness of the shade seemed a bit lonelier. Nevertheless, he brushed the feeling off and took his seat, forbidding himself from thinking about him, who lacked presence.

The him in the matter, happened to be his older brother. His older brother who was no longer with him, on account of having spent his last year at primary school long before the entirety of summer break; in which may have explained the emptiness lurking at the bottom of his heart—because Shizuo had always been there, whether he was by his side or nonchalantly keeping an eye on his little brother in case of emergency. The emergencies usually had nothing to do with Kasuka.

He wanted to dwell a bit more on the subject, maybe figure a solution to his petty problem—or if nothing else—label the emotion that seemed so unfamiliar, yet so common when it came to Shizuo. His attention was pulled in another direction at a shout of his name.

"Kasuka!"

He propped his head up on his knees, hugging them closer to his body. As the children he'd eventually recognized as classmates approached, he barely lifted his head.

"You should play with us!" declared the little boy, whom of which he'd never bothered to learn the name.

The boy next to him was just a bit withdrawn, but attentive all the same. He dawned a pleasant smile, nodding along. "I agree, we need an extra player and—"

"You really shouldn't talk to him!"

He flinched, but looked up at the upper grader who was suddenly looming over him. If he stood, he was sure his own stature hardly accounted for a third of his far larger body. It was depressing, how much bigger the world seemed without Shizuo around—

"...And that's why he's alone. Didn't you know? Shizuo Heiwajima will punish anyone who tries to approach him, and that's why you shouldn't bother with his younger brother, because they're both alike in some way, got it?"

He wasn't surprised; it wasn't uncommon to fear his brother, he hardly expected he was cause for worry himself. It wasn't as though he'd worked hard to reserve himself for his own purposes—what good would it have done if the two had made a notorious name for each other? But where was the balance now?

"Kasuka.." the boy who'd originally approached his humble seat looked genuinely hurt. "Is that true?"

There wasn't much to say in this situation, given nothing would have helped his case. There was no denying blood, and there was no denying the fact his blood was feared. So be it, he would have said.

As usual, nothing came out. He was the Kasuka who claimed silence of his own remorse. As such, his peers expected nothing. They had left somewhere in between his unspoken confirmation, and burying his head further into his knees.

He wasn't crying; as the rumor had it, he wasn't quite capable.

XXX

That evening, Shizuo walked him home, as he had promised. His head hung a bit lower than it should, and somehow, his characteristic silence seemed a bit too quiet.

Although, Shizuo didn't seem to notice; or if he did, he simply decided not to point it out. They rounded their usual corner, taking a route that was slightly less common in an effort to avoid the kinda woman who would have greeted the boys with a harsh glare of betrayal, they believed. Kasuka thought otherwise, but per every other thought, he kept it to himself.

It had come to his attention that they'd reached the front door. Shizuo pushed the door open and tugged on Kasuka's backpack the minute he tried to make a break for his room—the room that he no longer shared with Shizuo.

"Kasuka." concern was evident, "Is something wrong?"

He thought for a moment, likely debating whether or not he should run. He shook his head and walked—in a slightly quickened pace—in the same direction.

Shizuo repeated the action and held him in place, "Come on, Kasuka..You can tell me, right?"

His head shook again and his fingers quaked, tugging on the straps with anticipation. It was vain, he was aware, but Shizuo would take the hint. He denied that fact without hesitation, wary of a sudden fear that hadn't been there moments ago.

Naturally, that wasn't the case. Rather than releasing, Shizuo tugged him closer, by the cotton handle of the bag that was due to rip should it suffer the same treatment. He stubbornly slipped his arms out of the loose straps that allowed the necessary space required to free himself and make a run for it. That feeling was back and stronger than ever, prompting him to shut the door to their former bedroom with a loud slam.

He didn't want to face Shizuo after that and found his resolve; he locked the door.

XXX

Shizuo had known something was wrong with his brother the minute he caught sight of the younger slipping distastefully through the crowd of students that hardly bothered sparing him a second glance. Rather, their attention was always directed toward him and for a second, he figured that must have been the reason for Kasuka's slumped shoulders. He figured that some things never changed; although it was quite rare to pinpoint the emotion in his brother's lifeless eyes so easily.

Yet, far from it—

What should have been a comfortable silence remained deafening throughout the majority—or the entirety—of their peaceful walk home. However, the heavy atmosphere proved anything but.

Kasuka's silence was nothing to fear. It was inviting in a way, knowing his brother tried so hard to balance out the unevenness that was himself, and he was forever grateful. Even so, upon the occasional glance, his eyes hardly lit up with the genuine apathy of a loyal little brother. Indifference was nothing new, and no words were expected, but the air had thickened around them.

Perhaps what bothered him the most was the fact that, as Kasuka slipped his tiny hand into his own as they expectantly awaited the crosswalk's affirmative, it tremble slightly. He experimentally gripped it tighter, only to lessen the tremors quickly and thoroughly, leading his question as to whether or not he'd imagined it.

"Kasuka." he tried carefully with the concern he'd only ever share in this situation, "Is something wrong?"

—But he tried too hard. In the short matter of less than a minute, his brother had scurried away and slammed the door shut to the first room he'd come across, likely on impulse; the room they had shared one lengthy summer ago.

He'd lost much restraint afterward. His brother was angry, for the first time in a very long time, and he wasn't quite sure how to handle himself—was that it?

He approached the door with a gentle knock, despite himself, "Kasuka." His voice lacked the empathy he would have liked to show, "Come out here."

It sounded a bit more like a command than a request, so he wasn't surprised when he received no answer. He jiggled the knob and yes, it was locked. That didn't mean a thing to him, but he supposed he'd have to explain the broken door later on, so he refrained from ripping it off it's hinges.

"Kasuka." he stated a bit louder, summoning concern, "What's wrong?"

His voice and demands had contrasted in less time it took to knock on the door twice, so he assumed he wouldn't get very far. Contrary to that belief, the door creaked open and he'd hidden himself behind it.

"..I'm sorry." he mumbled.

He figured that was another vain attempt to keep the balance that had clearly been thrown off. He jammed his foot in the door before Kasuka had the chance to shut it. "Why are you apologizing? If you're upset, you should just spit it out already.."

The younger backed away from the door and walked himself to his single twin bed, as if nothing were wrong, and laid down on his side. "..Nothing's wrong."

It had become apparent long ago that he was a terrible liar, but it wouldn't help to bring it up now. However.. "That is the biggest load of crap I have ever heard." He'd just as much control over his mouth as his own body.

XXX

For once, Kasuka frowned. Of all days, the density encasing his brother's mind had numbed to the point it was almost nonexistent. Almost.

He took his sly chances, "I'm sorry brother, I had the last pudding cup."

Shizuo's head snapped up, as predicted, in the direction of the kitchen that couldn't be seen behind the closed door. The original plan was to wait until Shizuo had stormed out and cleverly lock the door behind him, in futile hope he wouldn't go through the trouble of breaking it again.

"Kas.." he shook his head, as if freeing himself from distracting thoughts. "I don't care about the stupid pudding right now, tell me what's wrong, or I swear..!"

This was what he'd come to recognize as his brother showing compassion. In his own, twisted way, this was a loving and careful process that required much patience between the two in order to fully understand and grasp one another. He'd known such was true, but why did he feel so..shallow?

He reached up and grasped his own chest, in a vain attempt to calm the heart that was beating rapidly out of..anxiety? He'd experienced that on numerous occasions, but no one was around, as of now..

"Shizuo.." his voice barely rose above a whisper, "It..burns."

His brother's eyes widened; he hurriedly pressed his head to his brother's chest, as if it held the answers. "Kasuka, are you hurt? Where does it burn?"

Kasuka moved his own hand so as not to block the way, but gently pat the base of his chest.

"Can you describe the pain?"

He thought for a moment, tempted to nod, but ultimately shook his head. It was too complicated and he didn't want to stress the seemingly levelheaded of the two at a time of dire crisis. Even he was a bit frightened; the idea of losing control so easily left room to wonder whether or not he was a fitting balance. It couldn't have all been for naught, right? He must have gained some sort of self control, enough to know that—

"Kasuka.." A firm but gentle hand wiped away the fresh, disconcerting tear that had formed without much notice from he who had originally possessed them. "Why are you crying?"

He wasn't sure, but the feeling had burnt it's way into a submissive ember, of which he was certain still remained underneath his composure. Something stronger, provocative had surfaced. He shut his eyes, praying for relief.

Arms had encircled his upper body. He was surprised—it didn't show. "...Shizuo? I.." His voice had cracked mid sentence and he fell into a quiet cry, sinking deeper into the warm, rare embrace.

That same hand gently pat the back of his head, and held him steadily. "You don't have to tell me now." he finally admit, "I probably wouldn't have helped you much, but you're my little brother and you're still my responsibility..A..And, it pisses me off, seeing you upset, so stop it."

It could have been a warning, but he knew it wasn't so. It was his big brother, genuinely caring in the only way he knew how—because what came with balance, was never one sided.

XXX

The next morning, they sat bright and early at the kitchen counter. Kasuka's eyes were no longer red with tears, and his hands regained the grip he feared they had lost forever. They sat at the kitchen counter, having awakened bright and early.

Kasuka had explained what had happened, the descriptive feeling lurching in the swell of his chest, and the displacement of himself in the mess. Shizuo had feared far worse, but he was relieved. So his brother missed having someone to talk to..That was natural, but he knew this day would come. So, before he would enforce the fact that Kasuka needed to broaden his horizon while he still had the chance, he decided to spend one of many 'last night's' in their old bedroom.

He wasn't helping the attachment. Even so, it wasn't quite one-sided.

"Shizuo.."

His attention spanned to his little brother, obediently finishing off what was left of his breakfast. "..What is it, Kasuka?"

"..You'll walk me home, right?"

The concern had faded to the back of his mind, deteriorating indefinitely. He was worried?

..The thought of Kasuka walking home alone was unappealing. Not just because of the streaming danger, but the familiarity of simulating a walk home, in his own mind. Without a soul around, the city seemed so much bigger and maybe—just maybe; perhaps they shared a common fear, after all.

He bit into his own cereal, dawning a cracked smile. "Yeah."


I'm an only child, can you tell?