I smile down at him, my little brother. I am walking him home from his elementary school, which I rarely do. Usually, I stay after school, in the library to study. But today, my midterms were over, so I've decided to accompany my brother home. As a result, he's running about, talking rapidly about something that had to do with his first grade class.

"…And, and teachers said that if I keep up the good work, I might even go to the next grade early!" he exclaims excitedly.

I chuckle. I, in my sophomore year of high school, envy such happiness. How long has it been since I've been that excited over something…?

He turns around and proudly shows me the sticker on his shirt. "See? I got this for being so smart!"

"But how are you going to keep up this streak, Klavier?" I ask with a smile. "Now you're going to have to work hard, like me."

"Nah." He brushes off the idea of work easily. He turns back around and continues walking. "This stuff's easy."

I laugh. Klavier glances back at me with a questioning look. "What?"

"Oh, nothing." I smile at him. "But one day, you'll have to work hard. You'll have to chose between your music and your work."

Horrified at the thought of choosing between school and his recently bought guitar, Klavier stops and gapes at me. "What?! Really, Kris?"

I am slightly irked by his pet name for me, but I don't think much of it. He's only a child, after all. "Well, it would be hard to keep doing both, wouldn't it? When you have a lot of work to do, how will you continue to play your guitar?"

He thinks for a moment. As I walk up alongside him, I notice how small he is, how cute. People tell us that we look like brothers, but sometimes, I can't see it. He's small, loveable, innocent. I, on the other hand…I am me. I am awkward, cold, intellectual. I am studying to go into law; I read of the horrid things people do all the time. I know what people can do to one another all the time, so I distance myself. Except from him. He is the only one in this world I trust completely, for he would never lie. He knows not of the dangers of the real world.

As I am lost in my thoughts, Klavier tugs gently on the sleeve of my school uniform. "…Kris?"

I look down at him and give him a small smile. "Yes?"

"Can we get some ice cream?"

I chuckle and take his hand as we cross the street. "Mother will be upset if you spoil your appetite."

"But-!"

"We don't want Mother to be upset, do we?" I ask softly. Klavier looks up at me with wide eyes. We both think back to our mother's constant failing health.

"No, I guess not," he whispers.

I feel bad, making him feel depressed. "Besides," I say in an attempt to lighten the mood. "If we eat desert before dinner…that's like a crime, isn't it? And you know what happens when you break the law…"

Klavier gasps. "Prosecutor von Karma will get us?!"

"That's right." I smile to myself as we continue walking. Prosecutor Manfred von Karma. He's made quite a name and impression on people in this part of Germany. The whole world, even.

"But…doesn't he have kids too?" Klavier looks mildly puzzled. "There's that one…from America…"

"…Miles Edgeworth?" I've met Miles once, at a dinner party that my father, also a prosecutor, attended. We're about the same age. However, neither of us are the types to socialize, so I've never gotten the opportunity to know him.

"Yeah, and there's that girl, the one with the pretty name…"

"Um…" I have a harder time remembering his daughter. She was pretty young, I recall. Nasty temper, though. She promptly threatened to whip me after I was introduced to her.

"I know!" Klavier looks up in his epiphany. "It's 'Franziska', isn't it?"

I nod. The name sounds familiar.

"She seemed really nice when we met. I really like her." Klavier smiles in his memory. "I want to be friends with her."

Klavier has never been like the other kids in his class; he never had problems with "cooties" or thought that girls were "weird". In fact, he's always been so openly kind to them that many have become his friends. I envy him, slightly.

Later…

"Hey Kris?"

"Yes?"

"When I grow up…" he squeezes my hand ever so slightly. "I wanna be just like you."

"…" I say nothing, though his words touch the bottom of my hardened heart. My spirits lift slightly. Am I really that great to him? Am I doing something I can be admired for? I smile.

As we reach the front gates of the house, I look over at him. He looks back up at me. He grins and I grin back. In an effort to display some sort of brotherly affection, I ruffle his hair.

"Ah, Kris!" he cries in mock anger. He then jumps up and reaches for my slightly long hair, always tied up neatly, and pulls the tie out.

"Hahaha!" he laughs. "Now you almost look like a rock star!"

I self-consciously reach toward the back of my head, slightly annoyed that my hair is out of it's orderly fashion. But, I suppose it is a compliment, coming from him. Klavier wants to be a guitar player when he grows up, but he also wants to be a prosecutor, like Father. Though I remind him occasionally that it's impossible to do both, he insists, "I can do it."

And although I love him dearly, I can't help but hate him. All of Father's affections, all of Mother's praise. It all goes to him, the young prodigy, while I was the average one; the one not as adorable, not as loving. So I try to be different from him, in hopes of being recognized for my own achievements.

But still, he is my brother. I know he'll always be there for me too, right?