Anger
Disclaimer: I don't own Prince of Tennis, 'cause then I would have a better computer
He didn't want to bother the others with such a trivial matter. They had just won the Nationals for the second time; it didn't matter what his obnoxious older brother said, even if it did cause his blood to boil and force him to spend several hours in his room cooling off. His parents wouldn't understand; they just put it off as simple sibling rivalry and things like that. But it was so much more. No one would really understand him though; his brother was perfect; good grades, looks, the heir to their family. No one would dare to think that such a perfect boy was actually harassing his younger brother.
Harassment. Most people connected harassment with unwanted touching. He had looked it up in the dictionary. It meant to keep pestering someone. In other words: his brother was truly harassing him. His thoughts ranged from getting revenge to suicide; after all, what better way to make everything end by making his life end? Maybe then, his brother would realize what he had been doing to him all these years. It wasn't something as simple as being bored and having a younger sibling to annoy. Those words, those infuriating actions were more than enough to make his control snap and resort to punches, kicks and screams. His parents didn't care much about it, thinking it was just them play wrestling. He had a feeling that the only people who may have even had the tiniest of suspicions about what was going on were the freshman reserve on their team and the ruthless Trickster. They, too, had older siblings - albeit sisters - and knew quite well how far teasing could go.
It was because of this so-called teasing that he rarely ever came out of his room whenever he was home. It frustrated his parents to no end, but it kept him far away from his brother at least and at meal times their parents and grandparents demanded total silence so he was safe there, for the time being. After meals, he would either rush off to school or to his room before anyone could say anything.
During the party, when he was off into space thinking about these things, the Trickster plopped down on the empty space next to him in the clubroom. He took a quick look around; there were plenty of other empty seats, most on the floor, so that meant he wanted to talk to him.
Niou didn't say anything at first, simply watching as the 'tensai' of their group tried swallowing a piece of cake that was just too big for him to eat alone. His partner had to rush to his aide to ensure that the sugar-freak wouldn't die.
When he did speak, it was softer than he had ever heard from the bleached hair boy, and the mocking was gone from his voice for once, though he could still spot the softest of annoyance creeping into his voice as he said, "Your brother, I'm assuming?"
Times like these made him think that the people who passed off Niou as a mere prankster couldn't see genius if it did a lap dance in front of them.
He said nothing, and Niou took the initiative to continue. "Kirihara had the same problem, 'cept with his sister." Niou glanced sideways at him, eyes flashing. "I guess we both had it easier than you; your brother is the star of the family, isn't he?" Once again, he didn't answer. "Anyway, my advice is to either suck it up or learn some new vocabulary, 'cause it doesn't get better, Sanada. Try as hard as you fucking like, but they'll keep baiting you until you snap. Unless you try physically hurting them, but that doesn't work half the time."
"And I suppose you know all about 'snapping', don't you?"
A bright grin - fake, obviously - made its way on to the Trickster's face. "Nope! Kirihara does though. Scared the living daylights out of his sister, from what he told me. She's never bothered him since. I wouldn't take that approach; your parents probably won't like it when a few of their prize vases wind up getting smashed."
He couldn't help but roll his eyes. Of course Niou wouldn't tell him what he had done to get his sister to stop - if she had stopped, that is - but he guessed it had to do with the fact she had gone off to college already. His own brother would be leaving in a few months. That meant all of third year would be spent working towards their third win, and waiting for Yukimura to make it back for the Nationals. And no more brother. All he had to do now was survive the next three months.
He wasn't entirely sure if he could make the last stretch, but he'd be damned if he wasn't going out without a fight.
A/N An ode to all who have been bothered by other siblings – mostly older – and have not been able to do anything. Plus, I was bored 'cause my Internet didn't work XP