Based off of this summary
post/49116497651/i-want-to-read-a-story-where-iv-b rings-prepared
The delicate glass teacup rattled in his plate, IV's trembling hands grasped the cold edges with an unnaturally tight grip. He tried to silence his curse, but old habits die hard, and balancing a tray of tea wares didn't help the situation. A cup of freshly poured Earl Grey tea spilled out onto the tray and splashed onto his hand. The duellist winced from the sudden pain with annoyance. He was so used to all the pain in his life; he shouldn't have even reacted from the contact.
A small burn was less than nothing to him.
Regaining himself, IV remembered how his little brother would carry the tea for his family. Back straight, elbows bent at a specific angle and posture calm and composed. He made serving tea a rigorous and dedicated art. It was impressive enough to make IV stop and look up undetected and peek at his brother's grace, something that he and even V lacked.
He took a deep breath and opened the door. An unconscious shiver passed through his body after the first step. Something about this place, where Tron had shut the door before anyone else could enter. The large spacious room with nothing else but a large tinted glass window, and a single bed, intimidated IV to the point he felt cold sweat trickle down the back of his neck.
It shouldn't. It's just III.
The messy curls sprawled out beside his head, and his gentle, relaxed expression made it seem like he would wake up at any moment, the morning sunlight in his emerald green eyes, widening to see his big brother bring him tea. It would have been such a rare sight; the smaller boy would be wearing a smile for the rest of the day.
"Nii-sama brought me tea!"
But IV knew he wasn't going to wake up. No matter how deceptive his steady breathing and occasional twitch may be, III wasn't going to wake up any time soon. His little brother wasn't here anymore… He…
IV furiously shook his head, growing impatient with himself. He set the tray beside the small table beside III's bed. Careful of his actions, he tipped the teapot to fill his brother's teacup close to the top. To top it off, he placed a small spoonful of sugar and cream into the tea, just how III liked it.
He disappeared out of the room without a word, marching down the empty hallways.
….
A small creak disturbed the peace of the room, as IV walked inside, his head bowed, and his lips pressed together anxiously. The steam from the tea faded, and the dull leaves rested on the surface, floating aimlessly. And if it was even possible, the platter of tea felt heavier than before.
This just won't do… III would never appreciate the tea like this. He'd scold him, and laugh pleasantly.
"Nii-sama, no one wakes up to drink cold tea!"
IV had to quickly replace it, or else his brother's smile would disappear. It was up to him to keep that angelic smile during this horrible time for their family. III had always done such a wonderful job rewarding their solemn faces with smiles and laughter, and now he was just… resting. Even smiling takes effort. IV was sure that it will be back sooner or later. But for now, he carried the task of making sure when III wakes up, that smile will be back, brighter than ever.
He dashed out of the room quickly, the plate clattering with every step. The tea set was set on the counter gingerly as IV washed the cup set, paying as much attention as he could towards III's treasured silverware.
After all, before III, they belonged to their mother.
The scarred duellist appeared back in III's room almost as fast as he left, with a different set of cups, making sure his brother didn't wake up without him. This time, IV made sure to pour the tea after he had set it down on the table, avoiding a disaster like last time. Two and a half scoops of sugar and a scoop of cream, just how III liked it.
When he left the room this time, IV found himself holding onto himself, shivering uncontrollably.
…..
The days passed slowly without the soft hum of the youngest member of the family in the air. Between their father, V and IV, there was no conversation that had nothing to do with their revenge. Tron refused to talk about III, almost as if he didn't acknowledge the youngest Arclight's existence anymore. But IV could tell, beneath that cold hard mask, his father's eyes were filled with rage every time he saw the Asia Champion. His father was thinking of III as he grudgingly looked at IV.
Without III, the so-called family was torn with raw hatred.
There were times like these, in the late evening, when he was the one who snapped the tension inside the house. Standing up abruptly and violently, tearing open the kitchen cabinets to find the tea set he prepared for his brother each day, then storming away from V and Tron.
He locked the door from the inside and placed the tea on the desk beside the lone bed. IV continued his ritual daily, in hopes of catching his baby brother rub his eyes sleepily, and yawn like a kitten. Stretch his arms out wide and blink in confusion with his older brother beside him all this time.
"Good morning nii-sama!"
Out of the corner of his eyes, IV spotted a pink curl that brushed against III's elegant eyelashes. He reached forwards, and gently with one finger, moved it aside, revealing the younger boy's porcelain like features. There were dark lines around IV's crimson eyes as he gazed down at his brother, accented by the pale moonlight through the large windows. It was a rare sight to see the celebrity so physically deprived, as he heavily concealed himself with makeup when he went outside during the day to greet his fans. He knew that III wouldn't mind seeing him like this. They once promised each other that they would still be brothers in each others eyes, no matter how they looked or what they did.
Brothers had to keep promises with each other.
After finishing his job of pouring the tea and adding the cream and sugar, just how III liked it, IV turned his back on his brother again, heading for the door.
He stared at the doorknob for a while, and closed his eyes.
Turning back to face III, he leaned against the door and slowly sat down, his knees brought up to his face, and his arms neatly folded on top of his legs. He buried his face, the moonlight hitting only his eyes.
He sat there for a while, without keeping track of the time. Whether it may have been minutes, or hours… All he knew was that when he looked back up again, the moon disappeared from the view of the windows, and the terrifying shaking came back to his body.
….
IV hasn't seen signs of III getting better in days. It was still the same shallow breathing and empty warmth when he felt his brother's skin. With his chin held high, IV still brought his brother tea, day after day, in empty hopes that III would wake up to see how dedicated his big brother was to him.
Bringing the tray to the bedside table, he stiffly poured the tea into the delicate cups, and proceeded to add the specific amount of cream and sugar. Instead of half, an accidental shake of his hand poured a full third spoonful of sugar inside the cup.
"Shit!"
IV cursed himself bitterly, slamming his fist onto the platter, knocking the tea cup on the side, the tea slowly pouring out. He clenched his teeth, realizing that he had ruined it. He ruined something perfect again.
This was not how III liked it!
Lost in denial, IV swept his hand across the fragile dishware, thrashing the platter aside. The sharp noise of shattered pots disrupted the harmonious silence in the room, and III didn't even stir. He picked up the now empty cup before it fell, and raised it above his head. It will be broken like the rest of the set.
Broken…
Suddenly IV collapsed to his knees, the arm holding the delicate tea cup trembled with its unbearable weight. He set the only surviving cup on the table. A violent shaking seized his body, starting from the heart, and ending up in his throat, where he began to sob.
"Wake up, Mihael…" IV begged desperately, clutching at the bed sheets with his free hand.
It wasn't supposed to end like this. Out of everyone that could have been hurt, it had to be their baby brother. Despite how many times IV made sure that he would be the one suffering for their family, fate chose III to bear their burdens and misfortune.
And he knew that his cheerful, wonderful younger brother would be more than happy to sacrifice himself for the good of their family.
It was the same feeling he had when III was thrown back during their duel inside the castle. A sick cold hand of fear gripping on his heart seeing his brother hurt. He was powerless to protect him. He only stared and screamed his name when his small body was tossed across the ground.
He should have known what revenge did to his little brother as it did to the rest of them. III was eager to prove himself useful to his family, going to any length to please Tron. IV had let III escape his grasp long enough for him to lose his soul.
A soft lament echoed the room as IV hesitantly reached for III's cold, soft hand, clasping it and bringing it to his forehead.
"I'm sorry, Mihael… I'm so sorry…" He whispered frantically, shaking his head. All those years alone inside the orphanage, when his little brother stayed by his side, IV had promised him he would always be there beside him. He promised, as the older brother, he'd protect him whenever their father wasn't around. Nothing would hurt him, not the stormy weather outside, or the monsters hiding under his bed, or bullies, and even his own loneliness.
All they had was each other, and IV promised he wouldn't let anything happen to him.
But it was futile wasn't it…
"Nii-sama, don't cry…"
IV looked up at III's deathly calm face with his tear filled eyes. Not one drop fell.
His shoulders shook with grief. His chest swelled and fell quickly with his distressed pants, the agony in his heart being almost too strong for him to bear. His hysterical sobbing racked his body with despair, he couldn't stop. He had prepared tea for nobody.
III wasn't around anymore.
