Not the Best
Written for the Too Many Cookies Boot Camp, prompt #40
Osamu did not pretend to be the best big brother in the world. In fact, he outright admitted to anyone who asked, he was terrible. He lost his temper with the four-year-old. A lot. Sometimes he can't stand that Ken is so average, so far below his own level of intelligence that - there he went again. Like that. Osaumu was fully aware that he could get caught up in his own world, so completely absorbed with the thoughts in his head or the books he was reading or the theories he was summarizing that he blocked everyone else out, ignored anything that was not him, pushed everyone away. Osaumu knew that he hurt Ken the most out of anyone. He knew he was a bad person.
But then there were those moments, those little tiny, seemingly insignificant moments, that meant the world to Osamu. Those tiny pin pricks of dazzling, glittering white light that pierced the darkness he knew shrouded his heart. Like waking up in the morning to find a tiny body curled around his own, that small-fingered fist gripping Osamu's night shirt. Like crayon drawings tucked in-between the pages of his text books. Like weekend anime just before dinner. Like small hands reaching for his own, even after he's finished screaming at him. Like Sunday mornings blowing bubbles on the apartment balcony.
Osamu did not pretend to be the best big brother in the world, yet somehow, Ken seemed to believe he was.
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