To be perfect is to stay in a world of your own, free from criticism. You won't need to deal with those stares that people fix upon you with that look in their eyes, saying quite plainly "How could you ever imagine something like that?" That's the way the world works. Be different, and you're wrong and imperfect. I should know.
The world we live in has always shallow. The strong survive and the weak die-- the strong will always bully the weak, the perfect bullying the imperfect. That's life for you. That's why onii-chan was never bullied, but always held in awe. That's why he always had to protect me, because I never was good -- or strong -- enough to take care of myself.
And yet I resented it. I hated every single minute of it. While being grateful to him for protecting me and being there by my side, whilst worshipping the ground on which he walked upon, I hated him. I hated him for being so perfect; I hated him for being so good. Would people have set expectations half as high for me had he not existed? Would I finally make the grade without him? Or was it just a problem with me? I refuse to believe that.
It is his fault, it has to be. It is his fault for not wondering what it would be like to have to walk in his footsteps, for setting such unattainable goals, for not taking time to wonder about my feelings, or to care for me. It is his fault, I'm sure of it. Is that why he finally decided to leave? Because he finally decided that it's his fault? So it really isn't my fault that the car knocked into him?
I never meant for it to happen like that, honestly, I didn't. It's not my fault, it's not. He should never have criticised that drawing which I made for him. I drew it specially for him-- it's not my fault that my art is ugly, it's not my fault that he didn't like it, it's not my fault that he got knocked down by that car, it's not because of that wish that I made, is it? It's not, it's not. It can't be.
"What's this?" He looked up in surprise as I shoved the folded drawing towards him. I only shook my head, and pushed the paper in front of his face again.
"Open it, open it. It's for you, onii-chan," I begged. And obliging as he was, he did as I bade him to.
"All right, you little imp. Here goes. You ready for it?" He gave me another one of his easy grins as he reached for the paper. I was practically hopping from one foot to the other as he carefully unfolded it.
"Hurry, 'nii-chan, hurry," I could hardly wait to see his expression of delight. That would make the three hours spent on the colouring worth my while. It had been tough getting every single colour within the lines, filling each printed space with fiery reds, brilliant yellows, cool blues, and a whole array of other colours.
Then, I watched as his smile faded. He looked somewhat bewildered as he turned to me. "Ken, what's this supposed to be?"
I felt some of my earlier joy and elation ebb away. "It's... it's the rainbow, over the field where we always play," I muttered, starting to get unsure of myself. "And that's you over there, and me," I pointed to two hand-drawn stick figures in the background. "Don't... don't you like it?" The smile was almost gone from my own lips, as I realised with a start that Onii-chan wasn't fond of it at all. Perhaps giving it to him had been a bad idea.
He sighed, speaking slowly as he always did when he tried to explain things to me, the way he did when he wanted to make me feel small and stupid. "Ken, if you paint the sky red, no one can see the red in the rainbow, can they?"
"But... but... but 'nii-chan likes blue. And... and if I painted the sky blue, you can't see the blue. I... I thought you would like it," I said softly, feeling slow tears fill my eyes as the shock faded away, leaving hurt behind.
He sighed again, deeper than before. "Ken..."
But I wasn't staying to listen to him. I didn't want to listen to him anymore. He didn't understand; he didn't care. It didn't matter that I had spent ages on the drawing, that I had tried so hard to make it perfect for him. It didn't matter to him at all.
So I did the next best thing that I could. I ran to the only refuge that I had-- my bedroom. I stuffed my face into my pillow and cried my heart out. He didn't like it, he didn't like it. That was all that went on in my mind, going round and round like the carousel that I loved so much.
I'm not sure how long I cried, but I was slowly aware of my hurt dissipating, gradually being replaced by anger. If he didn't like it, I wouldn't draw for him any more. I wouldn't. He wouldn't like it, anyway. Who cared what he thought? I hated him, then and there, more than had ever felt in ages. That is, until my conscience decided to step in.
*** He didn't really mean it. Besides, you know yourself that it wasn't very good. Look at the sky outside. Is it red? ***
// But... but... // Words seemed to fail me then, as I began to feel uncertain all over again. // Perhaps 'nii-chan was right. Perhaps I should make it blue next time. //
-
I saw him next at dinner. He didn't meet my eyes, and he looked down as he whispered to the rice bowl, "Ken, I'm... I'm sorry." I felt the resolve I had earlier to ignore him melting somewhat. I opened my mouth to give the answer that had been going on in my head, the nagging voice that had told me that onii-chan had been right-- that my drawing was ugly, and that I should tell him that it was fine, that I would try harder the next time. That is, until they pounced on the conversation.
"Did you boys fight again?" Mother asked, concern written all over her face. "Now Ken, you know you shouldn't do that. Osamu's already apologised. Go on, apologise now."
Something in me just snapped there and then. So it was my fault all over again? So it was my fault for giving him a drawing, for trying to make things right? Fine, if that was the way it was going to be, I wasn't about to apologise. I stared back at them somewhat defiantly. They couldn't make me.
"Ken!" It was sharper this time, without a doubt an order. "Apologise to your brother now."
So Daddy dearest was going to join in the fray as well. I looked at him as though I didn't understand, and remained silent. I was not going to apologise. I would not!
"Ken!" he raised his voice, louder this time, his face turning slightly red. "Osamu has already apologised. Shouldn't you say something to him as well?" The tone in his voice indicated that there really wasn't a choice.
I glared at my flustered brother, and said vengefully, "Sorry!" I dug into my rice viciously, wishing that it was him that I was digging into instead. // If only you'd just disappear! Life would be perfect then. //
But now that he has disappeared for good, now that he isn't and won't ever be around again to tell me that the sky should be blue, I find that life is not perfect. I miss him, and all the perfection that he symbolised. I miss him guiding me along, telling me of all the things that I had done wrong. I miss them all... I miss him.
Life with onii-chan wasn't perfect, but life without onii-chan is even worse. Onii-chan... forgive me.
I'm not sure how Osamu died, so I'm guessing he died in a car accident, since that seems to be the normal that I've seen. If there's any facts that I've misrepresented, please, let me know (story related, of course. Written once more for LoveProphesy/ LoveSovereign's sake). I doubt I'll be making changes to it (because then the entire story will need to be rewritten, and I'm not keen to do that) but I'll bear those in mind the next time I write.
As before, CC is more than welcome (again story related), and I thank you for your ideas and opinions.