If you think about it, my life was never really that hard. I mean, there are children in Africa who have to walk twenty or more miles each day, just to get enough water to barely survive. And in some countries, so many people sleep in the same small room, around a central open fire pit, that it is not uncommon for an infant or small child to roll over in their sleep right into the fire and be burned to death. And my tragic story? I have always eaten expensive imported food, gone to prestigious schools, had a ridiculous amount of pocket money, and lived in luxurious mansions. I have two parents who get along, and two siblings who are generally kind to me. If you think about it like that, it seems insensitive, ungrateful, and self-absorbed to whine about my life. And I do sincerely appreciate the many luxuries and opportunities that I have been gifted with. But still, I've never felt entirely content with the life that fate dealt me.
My parents have always been extremely busy, Father with his work and Mother with her social engagements, so I, my brother, and my sister were raised mainly by a nanny. Of course, I saw my parents often—we ate supper together, and I presented myself to them each morning and each evening—but they never were very fond of me, I think. They favoured my elder sister, Temari, who has always been attractive, intelligent, polite, and athletically, artistically, and musically gifted. The year I was a junior in senior high school, she was in her sophomore year of university, studying business in the US. She was also betrothed to the handsome, intelligent son of one of Father's business partners, and I think that she was well-pleased with the match. In short, she was a perfect daughter.
My brother, Kankurou, however, was the complete polar opposite of Temari. My parents have always loved order and propriety, so Kankurou was always a disappointment to them. He was outspoken, rebellious, and eccentric, and received horrible marks in school. He dropped out in his junior year, and lied about his age to rent a flat in New York. Two years later, he was still living there, and was still being supported by Mother and Father, though he had promised he was looking for a job.
So, for my entire life, I have lived with twin pressures: To be like Temari, and not to be like Kankurou.
Believe me when I say that I tried. For years, I did my best to be Temari Number Two, but no matter how much I studied, no matter how hard I worked, I could never equal her. So I gave up. I never rebelled, or tried to anger my parents, I merely gave up on trying to please them. I merely realised that this was an impossible task.
So, for the first time, I became myself, the summer before I started senior high school. I dressed, ate, spoke, and acted as I wanted to for the first time in my life. I think that for a while it confused my parents to the point where they did not know what to do. But soon they recovered from their initial shock and pushed on me hard, harder than ever before, to be the son that they wanted. I refused to cave under their demands. I had come this far, and had absolutely no intention of reverting to my original, eager-to-please self. So I pushed back, as calmly and maturely as I could, and, finally, they gave up. Have it your own way, they said. Throw your life away. End up as worthless as your brother. We are through. We have put up with enough of this.
And so I was alone.
I no longer had any reason to care. Why did I need an education? Why did I need refinement? Unless my parents disinherited me, which was unlikely since Kankurou was still in their will, I was set for life. Nothing mattered to me anymore except enjoying my life to the fullest that I could. I broke off friendships with the sons of Father's business partners. My marks dropped drastically until I was nearly failing out of the boarding school that I attended. I no longer cared. It no longer mattered.
This is how I began my junior year.