There were certain constants in Yuuta's world, things he knew could never change and could therefore afford to take for granted. These were facts on which it was safe to construct his worldview because they would never change. Mizuki would always have data on any tennis player; it might not be useful or even accurate, but he would have it. Yumiko would always have something good to eat around when he went home, and would offer it to him with a smile. And Syuusuke would never be afraid of anything. He might respond with that infuriating smile of his, or he might get angry, but he would never truly be scared. For all his small stature (he'd grown a few inches in the past year, but he was still a little shorter than his classmates, and he lacked the muscle of many of his fellow tennis players) and apparent harmlessness, Yuuta never doubted that his brother could take care of himself.
That was why it was such a shock when Syuusuke showed up at his door one Thursday evening. Yuuta wasn't surprised because non-residents weren't supposed to be allowed in the dorm without a student accompanying them, or because his brother had never come by his room to see him, instead calling to see if he would come out. It was only that something seemed instantly wrong about the whole situation.
There was nothing obviously wrong with Syuusuke. He was wearing his school uniform, which looked as neat as it ever did. He wasn't dirty or sweaty and a quick glance revealed no signs of injury. He was even wearing his usual smile, but something about it was less than convincing. He looked—it took Yuuta a moment to realize it because he had never seen his brother this way before—fragile, as though if someone were to push him now, instead of pushing back he might break.
"Aniki," Yuuta stuttered. Then, after a moment, "Come in." His roommate was, thankfully, elsewhere, and he locked the door so no one would bother them. Syuusuke lay down on one of the beds. It was a casual movement, as though he was completely at home in this room he'd never been in, but Yuuta thought he saw a grimace of pain flash across his face. Perhaps he'd been wrong in judging him uninjured. "What happened?" he asked, although he wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer.
"I'll be fine," Syuusuke said. It wasn't an answer, but Yuuta was afraid to question him further. "I'm sorry to bother you, Yuuta. I just...didn't want to go home yet." He was still smiling, and his voice was steady, but Yuuta could no longer deny that something bad had happened to his brother.
"It's all right," Yuuta said, trying to pretend that this whole situation didn't make him horribly uncomfortable. It wasn't all right at all. As much as he hated his older brother fussing over him, he had always taken that protection for granted; he had never imagined that he would have to return the favor, and he had no idea what to do.
Syuusuke closed his eyes, as if to give Yuuta permission to leave him alone and go back to his work. Yuuta returned to his desk, but the words he had written a few minutes before seemed unintelligible now. He turned back to the bed and saw that Syuusuke was holding his right wrist in his left hand, rubbing his thumb over the skin as though massaging a sore muscle or worrying at a bruise. His eyes were still closed, but his brows were knitted together and his face was pinched into an expression of pain and something that might almost be fear.
Shaken, Yuuta turned back to his work and tried to forget that his belief had been proven horribly wrong.