Hello! I didn't think I'd update for another two days but it appears that I'm ahead of schedule.

BEFORE YOU BEGIN:

I just wanted to say that this is another fluff chapter (yeah I'm trash I know) but in order to make it happen, there's a bit of sadness in here so it's not that humorous in that sense. Just telling you. Okay, thank you, now you can enjoy.

Behind your back

Seijuro, class 2-A, second year of middle school. Personality, exceptional. Grades, exceptional. Sports skill, exceptional. President of the student council, vice-captain of the basketball team. He is a boy who excels in all fields, nothing short of a monster, the purest form of perfection. This perfection can be extremely advantageous in any and every type of situation, although, some could say it was a blessing and a curse. Strangely enough, Seijuro never believed that statement. Never did he think he would eat these words until one day in school, when he went to retrieve something from his locker during lunch and paused next to the door when he heard some of his classmates mention his name in a conversation inside.

"Don't you just hate the way Seijuro is perfect in everything?" one person said. A small group of three boys who were sitting inside the classroom on the desks talking about the usual gossip. The other two nodded.

"Yeah, the annoying way he always skulks about the hallways with his head held high like he knows everything," another one said.

"I get what you mean," the third boy chimed. "He always acts like he's better than everyone. Like he's too good for this school or something. It pisses me off." The boys murmured their agreements and continued talking. Seijuro stayed stood outside his classroom as he heard the gossip fly about the classroom. In fact, he looked quite dumbfounded, taking in and processing this new information.

This…is news to me, he thought. He hadn't realized that he actually had people who disliked him in school. He had excellent grades, his manners were polished, and he fulfilled all of his extracurricular duties. What was there to hate about him honestly? Well, he assumed just as much, since a lot of people would die to achieve the level of perfection that he has. But he thought that it would just be mere envy that these people were feeling, not complete hatred. He wanted to leave, but he found himself continuing to watch the scene from the safety of outside the room. The rude comments only persisted, however.

"That Seijuro kid, what a spoiled brat."

"He probably doesn't have many friends."

"Many friends? You mean none at all! There's no way someone would be his friend with that attitude of his. That's probably why he does so many activities, to keep is life from being so empty."

"He has older brothers doesn't he? How do they deal with him at home? I bet they hate him."

"He should just get lost, y'know?"

A subtle frown etched itself onto Seijuro's face as he stood in place. This was what people thought about him? If anything, he thought he was making a good impression on others. This was beyond his expectations. And yet…it was slightly disheartening to hear these types of things about him. It's true, he really didn't have anyone close to him in school, or in the neighbourhood he lives in either. He thought hanging out with his cousins was exactly like hanging out with a group of friends. They did a lot of things, went a lot of places, wasn't that enough? Why were they so bitter about his lifestyle? Had he been unintentionally rude to them? Was it something that he said? Seijuro pondered over their opinions for quite some time in the hallway. Even though he hadn't done anything wrong, maybe it was himself who should change if people talk about him like this. Actually, a better thing to say would be…

Why am I so concerned?

The way others think of my life should not matter, he thought. Especially if they're as hateful as this. I should just ignore it. It's not important for me to be stressing about other people's opinions if I haven't done anything to them. I should just go about my business. And that's just what he did. When the bell rang, he strolled inside the classroom like nothing happened, ignoring the stares he got from the boys as their gossip circle dispersed and they went back to their seats to continue with the next lesson.

~O~

Ever since that day, he always felt their stares bore through the back of his head every time he did something. When he wrote down his notes, when he raised his hand to answer a question, when he excused himself to the bathroom, it's like they were always looking at him, always full of unjustified bitterness. Why they didn't like him, he didn't know; but it was just three people, right? Unless…

"What if others think about me in this way?"

Seijuro was walking to basketball practice after school. Just before he left, he had to grab his bottle from his locker and those three boys were staring at him again as they stood parallel to the redhead in the hallway. He left without saying a word, before the stares got too unbearable. It was really stupid to think such thoughts. Of course there couldn't be others who dislike him. Surely someone would have said something to him, right? Although people tend to talk about the people they dislike with others instead of telling that person directly. That's just the way things have worked, and it was a strange method that Seijuro never understood. It must be just those three and no one else. Well that's what he hoped. In fact, why was he thinking about this? He made it very apparent in his head that he shouldn't be caring about what other people think. And it's not like he's close to people in this school anyway. So then why? Why was this on his mind again? He sighed to himself.

"Anymore daydreaming and I'll be late," he muttered.

He picked up the pace and hurried over to the gym, pushing all of his obscure thoughts to the back of his mind. Whatever he was so unnecessarily distressed about could wait until after he was done for the day.

~O~

Seijuro was paranoid.

It was all because he overheard something that he shouldn't have. The nagging thought was always at the back of his head, threatening to resurface the moment he steps into the classroom. Now every time Seijuro saw a student speak to someone as he walked by, he always subconsciously wondered if they were talking about him. It was getting ridiculous. Since when has he allowed anything to affect him before? More like, this is the third time in a week he's reflected on this. Why can't he get rid of this problem?

I refuse to allow some ignorant comments to affect my emotional state, he thought. I barely even talk to those guys, so it's not like they know me well enough to assume such vile things. I'm sick of thinking about this matter. In fact, I'll stop thinking about it right now.

Seijuro composes himself and walks into the classroom and puts his school bag down next to his desk. He's just about to sit down in his seat when he spots a note on his chair. Perplexed at the small folded piece of paper, he picks it up, examines it, and opens it, reading the large characters scribed for him inside with red ink.

'Nobody likes you here.'

Seijuro grimaced at the negative message that he read. Now here's someone who really has an issue with him. He surveyed the students around him and his eyes fell upon the troublemaking group of three he seems to have offended somehow. They stared back at him with menacing grins and then turned back to whatever they were doing.

"Childish," he hissed under his breath. He walked over to the bin at the corner of the classroom and ripped up the sheet of paper, watching the small bits flutter into the trash. He then strolled back to his seat, his expression neutral as always, and sat down before getting out his books and pencil case, doing some work as he waited for class to start. He hoped that these notes weren't going to become an everyday issue.

Unfortunately for Seijuro, it seemed that the notes did become an everyday issue. Every day in school, he'd always come in and find someone had left him a note on his chair, always saying some type of rude message in that same red ink pen; and every time Seijuro looked over at those three, they'd always look back with those same ugly grins on their faces. A thought flickered for a split second one day that maybe he should go and tell the teacher, but then he realized how useless they can be for situations like that; to be honest, he'd rather have Sensei stick to mathematical problems rather than social problems. So Seijuro decided that instead of putting up with whatever these messages said, he'd just ignore them entirely. So instead of reading it like the last time, or even doing as much as acknowledging them, he just disregarded them completely. When a note was left on his chair, he'd simply just sit down, pretending not to notice the piece of paper shifting off the edge of the chair and falling to the ground. Hey, what he doesn't read can't hurt him. The three boys didn't appreciate that gesture so they used other methods to convey their messages.

Seijuro went to go grab a notebook from his locker at break only for about ten pieces of paper to tumble out and onto the ground. Looking around suspiciously, Seijuro scooped up the papers and flipped through them.

'You're such a stuck-up brat.'

'You have no life.'

'You should just transfer out.'

His façade nearly slipped for a moment, his eyebrow twitching in irritation. This was getting ridiculous. How long do thy plan to write him these hateful notes? It's starting to really annoy him now. His fingers closed in on the white sheets as he clenched the paper and it crumpled under the weight. He strode over and angrily threw the offending notes into the bin in the hallway before striding back into the classroom.

Every day was a vicious cycle for Seijuro. He'd come into class in the morning and sit down, ignoring the rude note that was laying on his chair and shifting it out of the way. When this happens, the three find some other way to torment him, putting the notes in an unpredictable place, where he least expected it. This is so when he finds them, it'll be when he's off guard. And as always, he'd make sure to throw them in the trash before tending to his business. At first, he thought it was just some immature joke and that they'll get tired of it eventually, but now, he's not so sure. It had been two weeks since the notes began and the boys didn't show any sign of letting up. Was this how much they hated him? Seijuro suddenly felt a pang of sadness that made his chest ache. He immediately suppressed that feeling and shook off his thoughts.

"Just forget it and go home," he told himself. "It's not important."

~O~

"Sei-chan, are you okay?"

The five brothers were sitting at the table eating dinner. Everyone was conversing happily with one another except for him of course. Seijuro was the quietest out of them all and Reo could tell something was on his mind. He hadn't touched much of his food and he just sat there staring into space, using the palm of his hand to prop up his chin as he looked off to the side. Seijuro gazed at his older brother and quirked an eyebrow.

"I'm perfectly fine, Reo-nii-san. What makes you say that?"

"Well it's kinda obvious, isn't it?" Kotarou said. "I mean you seem kinda…distant, if you know what I mean." The redhead stared at Kotarou in silence before continuing to look off to the side.

"Is that so?" he said. Kotarou and Reo exchanged a look before shrugging and going back to their food. Meanwhile, Chihiro stared at Seijuro as he daydreamed. Something was off with him.

After dinner, Seijuro cleared his plate away before excusing himself to go upstairs. He entered his bedroom, leaving the door open just slightly and trudged over and flopped down onto his bed, heaving out an exhausted sigh as he stared blankly at the ceiling. He was thinking about it again. About everything. The comments, the dirty looks, the notes, just all the harassment in general. He didn't know exactly how long it would go on for, but it was becoming tiring trying to avoid all that mess. How much could three people dislike him anyway? Were there others like this? Others who secretly loathed him but kept it secret? It might not matter if that was the case for his other classmates but what if his family, or even his cousins thought that way about him? Tetsuya, Taiga, Ryouta, Shintarou, Daiki, Satsuki, Atsushi, Shuuzo even Shōgo; did they even like him? But how could he know? Who could give him a straightforward opinion?

…

"Seijuro, it is rare for you to call me, nanodayo."

Seijuro decided to call Shintarou for his opinion; they always seemed to get along the most out of all of the miracles. Perhaps the glasses wearing boy could tell Seijuro what he wanted to hear.

"It is indeed," Seijuro concurred. "Listen, I need to ask you a question."

"A question? What kind of question?"

"You'll know soon enough. But promise me one thing." He could hear Shintarou grunt in confusion.

"What is it that I should promise, nanodayo?"

"You have to give me your one hundred percent honest opinion. No lies, no sugar-coating, just the honest truth."

"Seijuro, when have I ever not told you the truth? I haven't lied to you in the past and I certainly won't start now, nanodayo. How important is this question that you're asking?"

"Just promise." A long sigh emanated from the receiver before a brief silence fell upon them.

"Fine. I promise. Now ask me what you want to ask me, nanodayo." Seijuro took a deep breath before exhaling slowly.

"…What do you think of me?"

"What?"

"I said, what do you think of me?"

"What do you mean by that, nodayo?" Shintarou instigated. "Are you referring to what I think about you in terms of basketball skill?"

"No, I didn't mean it in that way," said Seijuro.

"Then what did you mean, nodayo?"

"I meant as a person. In general. What do you think of me as a whole?" This took a lot of considering from Shintarou and he didn't answer for some time. Seijuro was beginning to wonder if he hadn't heard him as was about to ask again when Shintarou finally answered.

"I find no faults with you as a person, nodayo," said Shintarou. "There is no reason for me to dislike you." Seijuro nodded as if he was talking to Shintarou face to face.

"I see," he almost whispered. If Seijuro could see Shintarou at that moment, he would have seen him narrow his eyes in suspicion.

"Why is it that you are asking such a question? Since when have opinions mattered to you, nanodayo?" Seijuro bit his lip trying to hold back a frown.

"It is not important," he said.

"Seijuro, this is unlike you, nanodayo. I should at least know why you are asking such strange questions." Now it was Seijuro's turn to sigh.

"If you insist," he said.

From the beginning, he recounted everything. He told him how people started to stare at him weirdly, talk about him behind his back and leave offensive notes wherever he goes for him to read. He told him how he was just checking to see if no one else thought the same way. He was sure Shintarou was listening with utmost seriousness, but when he finished recounting his tale, surprisingly, Shintarou made a sound akin to a small chuckle on the other line.

"And what is it that you find so amusing, Shintarou?"

"What I find amusing is that you'd believe such nonsense, nanodayo. Clearly the things they are saying about you are untrue."

"Yes, I know," Seijuro retorted. "I was just hoping that no one else had their mindset, especially you guys. I know it's foolish of me. Laugh at me all you want for my silly thoughts." He waited for that uncharacteristic snicker across the phone but he never heard one. Instead, Shintarou began to speak again.

"I do not find it particularly funny, nanodayo," Shintarou said.

"Why not?" Seijuro asked.

"If we disliked you that strongly, do you think I would have even bothered to pick up the phone? Since when did you care about this, nanodayo?"

Seijuro rolled over to his side on the bed. "Since about two weeks ago." It was a bit quiet after that. Neither person seemed to hang up though. Suddenly, Seijuro jolted slightly when, after almost thirty seconds, he heard an awkward cough.

"Seijuro,"

"Yes?"

Another pause.

"W-Well, it's not like I care or anything, but—" Oh there it is. Shintarou's classic catchphrase which basically means that he does care but he doesn't want to tell you that directly. Seijuro stifled the laugh that was threatening to escape his mouth so he could listen to what his cousin had to say.

"It's not like I care or anything, but, you should not listen to those three ignorant morons in your class, nodayo. They have no idea what you are like as person. Forget about whatever insecurities you have at the moment. You don't have to change anything about yourself if there was nothing wrong in the first place."

Seijuro was taken aback. Even though Shintarou said nice things on very special occasions, he never expected to hear something so…supportive. No wonder he was a tsundere. It didn't fit a person like him to be like this twenty-four seven. Still he continued.

"Don't think for a second that I, or any of the others for that matter, harbour some kind of secret dislike for you. That is untrue, nanodayo. I don't know what conclusions you have been jumping to during these past two weeks, but I'll tell you now that we are family, and, as family, we don't hate you in the slightest. So stop worrying."

By the time Shintarou had finished talking, Seijuro just lay on his bed without saying a word. No doubt, he was surprised. His eyes were wide, his mouth was slightly parted and the look on his face said it all. He was rendered completely speechless. For a few seconds Shintarou had assumed that he had hung up.

"Hey, Seijuro, are you still the—"

"Thank you."

There was an audible hitch in Shintarou's breath as he took in this phrase of gratitude. After recovering, Shintarou huffed and the clack of titanium frames notified Seijuro on the other line that he had adjusted his glasses.

"I haven't really done anything, nanodayo. I was just trying to set your mind straight. Nothing more. And try not to dwell on this for too long. It might affect your health."

"Whatever you say, okaa-san."

"OI."

Seijuro snickered a little before pulling a grin.

"Well then, I guess I've heard what I wanted, so I should probably go. It was nice talking with you, Shintarou."

"Mhmm. Then I suppose it is goodbye for now."

"Yes. Goodbye."

The line cut and soon the sound of Shintarou's voice was replaced by the sound of static. Seijuro locked his phone and set it on his bedside. As he did so, Nuisance slipped through the door and made her way over to Seijuro's bed and leapt onto it skilfully. He instinctively began petting her head, feeling the vibrations of her underneath his palm as she purred.

"I guess you came to check on me, hmm?" Nuisance meowed and rolled over onto her back. Seijuro smiled slightly and moved his hand to her stomach, rubbing lightly as he stared at his digital clock to check the time.

"I suppose it's getting a bit late," he said. "I'd better get started on my work."

~O~

Even though Shintarou set his mind at ease about what his cousins thought about him, it still didn't stop all the notes being put on his desk. After all this time, it was getting fairly irritating. Throughout the duration of that week, Seijuro's mood slowly fell. It wasn't enough to impact his schoolwork, but he did drift off a few times in class.

"Seijuro-kun…Seijuro-kun…Seijuro-kun, are you listening? Can you tell me the answer to this question?"

His eyes darted from the window to the puzzled face of the teacher, who was standing near the board, pointing at a question. The entire class was staring at him in fact. That was when he realized that he wasn't paying attention.

"Ah, yes, sorry," he said. "The answer is the cytoplasm." The teacher blinked before going back to their neutral teaching expression.

"While that may be correct, you seem to be out of it, which is very unlike you. Are you feeling well? Would you like to go to the nurse?" Seijuro's cheeks darkened momentarily, feeling the heat from the stares that were piercing through him from all of his classmates.

"I am fine," he said as an immediate response. "I accidentally zoned out a bit, Sensei. It was my fault. Please continue." The teacher shrugged and went back to the animal cell diagram he drew on the board. The majority of the class also turned around and went back to their notes. The three boys, however, held their gaze for just a little longer than normal before they too returned to their own work. Seijuro sighed and picked up his pencil to copy the rest of the diagram on the board.

When class was dismissed, Seijuro left the room and leant his bag next to the lockers, walking on to a different sector of the building. He didn't have basketball practice that day, but he had a student council meeting and as president, he obviously had to attend. When his footsteps had finally faded, the three boys poked their heads out of the classroom. One boy nudged another and so he walked over with another note and slid it into Seijuro's bag before leaving with his other friends and going home.

~O~

Seijuro was now on the way home, walking back from school after the meeting was over. He was tired. Not physically, but more of mentally instead. He didn't have many things to do today so maybe a bit of relaxation was in order. That sounded like a good idea. Perhaps he could get his work out of the way quickly after dinner so he could have the rest of the night to himself. On the bright side, tomorrow was Friday, so he didn't have to worry about anything for the next two days. Especially those guys.

Curious to what the time was, he reached into his bag to get his phone out but stumbled across something else, as his hand brushed across a smooth thin surface. Whatever it was that he touched, he grabbed onto it and pulled it out, angered to find out what it was. It was another note, the large characters scribbled in their usual red ink, but this time, he actually read it. The characters he read off the page put a scandalized expression on his face and frankly he had never looked so offended. He was ready to crumple it up into a ball and throw it away but unfortunately, there were no trash cans around the area that he was in. Oh well, since he was almost there, he could just hold onto it until he got home, where he could finally have the satisfaction of ripping the thing to shreds.

He enters the house silently and takes off his shoes at the entrance, hearing the low drone of infomercials on the TV in the living room. He walked past without saying a word, completely absorbed in his own thoughts, until he collides into Chihiro and stumbles back.

"Oh, it's you Seijuro," Chihiro said. "Welcome back. I didn't hear you come in." Seijuro just shrugged.

"I guess not," he replied drily. He was just about to head off to the kitchen to get a drink when Chihiro leaned closer and kept his gaze on his younger brother.

"You…what's been up with you for the past few days? You always have that look on your face."

"What look?"

"You know exactly what look I'm referring to," Chihiro stated. "Like something's seriously bothering you."

"Hmm? What makes you say that?" Chihiro crossed his arms and stood his ground.

"Instinct."

Instinct? What did that mean? Seijuro probably would have said something else if his name hadn't been called from upstairs.

"Oi, Sei!" Kotarou shouted. "I need your help with something. Can you come upstairs?"

Seijuro put his bag down where he stood and willingly obliged to his older brother's request, internally thanking him for the convenient timing that allowed him to escape the interrogation.

"I'm coming, Kotarou-nii-san." He called from the bottom of the stairs. He went up and stood in the hallway.

"Where are you?" Seijuro said. Kotarou peered out from his bedroom door and beckoned the redhead over.

"Over here, Sei."

He walked over and entered Kotarou's room, following him towards his study desk and sitting down next to the giant pile of notes and textbooks.

"What is it you wanted me to help with?" Kotarou gave him a timid laugh.

"Well, remember when you said you were doing advanced mathematics in your free time?"

"Yes, I do," Seijuro answered. Kotarou pointed to the problems written on his open notebook and looked at his older brother with a slightly pleading expression.

"Do you think you could help me with these? Hehe…" Seijuro nodded and bent over the desk, examining each of the problems on the sheet of paper.

"It seems doable," he concluded. "Let's get started then.

~O~

"No, Nuisance. Don't go through Seijuro's bag like that."

Chihiro was walking back from the kitchen towards the living room and was about to sit down when he saw the feline slink over to her master's schoolbag and stick her head in it, disarraying the contents and scattering everything. When she wouldn't stop, Chihiro went over and pulled her out of there, the cat's head coming free from the bag, a piece of paper held in her mouth. Chihiro confiscated the paper from her before shooing her into the living room. At first, he assumed the paper to just be some worksheet he had been assigned, but when he flipped it over, that's when he realized that this was no assignment he was holding. It was much worse than that.

'You should just drop dead, Seijuro.'

Chihiro scowled fiercely at the incriminating note. This was addressed to Seijuro, who would write such a thing? This wasn't even funny at all. Someone must have put it in his bag of course, but why? So Seijuro had people who harassed him in school. There's no two ways about it. Chihiro felt his fists clench till his knuckles were white.

"I'm gonna kill whoever did this," he mumbled. Reo and Eikichi passed by just early enough to hear him.

"Whoever did what?" said Reo.

"Yeah," said Eikichi. "What're you talking about?" Chihiro handed over the note and the two both took it into their hands and read the message scrawled in that retched colour. Both of their faces twisted with complete and utter shock and disgust.

"Oi, what the hell is this about?" Eikichi demanded.

"Why would anyone write such things about Sei-chan?" Reo asked. "Since when was he being bullied?"

"It doesn't matter," Chihiro stated. "All I want to know is who did it." It was safe to say that Chihiro was more than just angry right now. He was furious, livid even; and the grey of his pupils burned cold rage. He didn't say another word about it. He just turned on his heels and began striding towards the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Reo said to him. He paused mid-step without turning around before he gave his reply.

"I'm going upstairs," he said. "It appears I need to have a talk with Seijuro." With that, he continued on, leaving the two brothers downstairs to wonder what would happen between the two.

…

When Chihiro knocked on Seijuro's door he heard a quiet 'Come in' before twisting the doorknob and entering the room. Seijuro was sat on his bed, setting up his shogi board, when he looked up to find his older brother approaching him.

"Ah, Chihiro-nii-san…" he said. Chihiro sat on his bed and crossed his legs as he sat opposite from Seijuro. He gestured towards the traditional wooden board.

"Mind if I play?" he asked. Seijuro's eyes widened momentarily before nodding his head and remaining silent, looking at Chihiro expectantly, signalling him to make the first move. Chihiro idly moved a pawn one space forward to initiate their conversation.

"It's rare for you to play shogi with me," Seijuro said after some time. His expression hadn't changed, but the way he said it sounded like he was wary of his presence. He set down a piece on the board, it was Chihiro's turn.

"Yes, it is," he agreed as he searched for a piece to move. "Actually, I came to talk to you about something. He moved another piece and Seijuro's eyes flew to his own array of pieces, trying to figure out a strategy.

"What is it you wanted to talk to me about?" a hand reached over to his knight. Chihiro pulled the note out of his pocket and unfolded it, holding it up next to his head. The pale white hand delicately lifted the knight piece in the air.

"I came to talk to you about this."

A clack resonated off the walls loud and clear as the shogi piece fell from a frozen hand, bouncing of the board, the piece landing on the duvet instead. Seijuro was staring at the sheet of paper in the utmost horror, his heart dropping into his stomach; he could barely believe his own eyes.

"Where did you get that?" Seijuro said in a low voice. He tried to take it from Chihiro but he only held it back so he couldn't reach it from the other side.

"It's lucky Nuisance picked the right day to sort through your bag," he retorted. "Why was this in there?" Seijuro frowned.

"It doesn't matter, I was planning to dispose of it anyway. Just give it back."

"No, I'm not giving this back." Seijuro tried reaching over the shogi board again but Chihiro refused to let him do as much as get near it. He sighed in exasperation.

"Please just give it back," he groaned.

"Not until you tell me the problem,"

"I said it's not important."

"It is."

"Chihiro-nii-san, I'm fine."

"No you're not."

"I've already told you—"

"Seijuro."

Just that one call of his name was enough to silence him completely. The boy sat back down in his place and cast his gaze to the covers of his bed, avoiding all eye contact. Chihiro put the note away and folded his arms.

"Why didn't you tell any of us?" Chihiro asked. Seijuro knew that he had to answer that, the look on his older brother's face demanded a reply. Yet for some reason, he couldn't think of one. Suddenly all of the words that were on the tip of his tongue were soon gone and his previous confidence in his answers had vanished.

"I thought I could handle it." he murmured, his voice getting quieter under the piercing glare of his brother. Chihiro shook his head.

"Well you thought wrong," he said. Seijuro kept his mouth close, not even attempting to speak. He felt ashamed, almost guilty that he didn't say anything to his brothers sooner. They all knew that he was troubled this entire time but of course his pride wouldn't let him say anything to them. His face heated up in embarrassment as his gaze went from his covers to the floor below them, completely avoiding looking his brother in the eyes. He planned to stay like that as well, were it not for the hand that reached over from across the shogi board and lifted his chin up so he and Chihiro were facing each other, fiery red meeting neutral grey.

"You should have told me," Chihiro said. For the first time in a long while, Seijuro could see just a sliver of emotion, and how he wished for it to be something other than deep concern.

"I still don't understand," Chihiro continued. "Why didn't you say something? I could have helped you." Seijuro desperately wanted to look the other direction, but Chihiro's hand was still holding his chin in place so he couldn't move his head just yet.

"How could you have possibly helped?" he said. "In all honesty, I don't know what you could have done, Chihiro-nii-san."

"So did you think that the notes would just magically disappear if you ignored it for long enough?"

"Those guys could have gotten tired of it eventually."

"But you're already at your limit, aren't you?" Seijuro clenched and relaxed his jaw and remained silent for a short moment.

"Why do you think that?"

"Are you really asking me that question? You were perfectly fine when you came home until around two weeks ago when your behaviour became strange and your mood worsened. You always looked tired and irritated. You say you can handle it, but you're already hurting, aren't you?" It was absolutely frightening the way Chihiro could be so perceptive. As usual, he was spot-on.

"I understand this is a personal thing for you, but can't you at least trust your own brothers enough to tell us your problems?" Seijuro's mouth became ever so slightly parted as his brother continued to speak.

"We're your family, Seijuro. Telling us your problems may sound pretty lame to you, but that's what we're here for. Do you think that it doesn't hurt us as well if you can't even trust us with that much? Otherwise, why are we here in the first place? As an older brother, I need to know these kind of things. It's okay for you to rely on us sometimes for problems. True, I might not be able to solve them, but I can sure as hell try." The next thing he did was even more amazing. Seijuro's eyes grew wide as his brother's mouth curved upwards and his eyes crinkled shut. He was smiling, the biggest Seijuro had ever seen him smile without even showing his teeth like this. He did laugh on occasion, but this time was different. Without even needing words to communicate, Seijuro was instantly moved, unable to stop what was going to happen next. Chihiro opened his eyes, suddenly quirking a brow as he looked down at the hand under Seijuro's chin feeling something…wet? He immediately jerked his head up and looked at Seijuro, taken aback when he saw the tears streaming down his face so uncontrollably.

"O-Oi, Seijuro, what's wrong?" he said. His hand went to his shoulder instead and gently shook him to get his attention.

"Are you okay? Seijuro?" Suddenly, a force pushed him back, the sudden quick movement shoving the shogi board off the bed, the pieces scattering across the floor. Chihiro looked down and found Seijuro clinging to him, his face hidden by his shirt. He didn't even have time to say anything. Seijuro cut ahead and said the two least expecting words Chihiro would probably hear all day.

"I'm sorry."

Chihiro eyed his brother in surprise.

"Sorry for what? Why are you apologizing?" Seijuro didn't make eye contact but still continued.

"I should have probably told you. I didn't mean to anger you or anything."

"I'm not mad," Chihiro said. "I was just confused as to why. I'm not asking you to say sorry for anything." Seijuro sniffed before holding on tighter to his brother.

"Yes, but still…" Whatever he was going to say next didn't come out of his mouth as his brother just pulled him closer and wrapped his arms around him, not saying a word until he was sure that Seijuro was still.

"Just be quiet, you have nothing to be sorry for," he said. "But you have to tell us the problem next time, okay?" He felt Seijuro nod and sniff loudly before letting out a sigh.

"Yes, Chihiro-nii-san."

Chihiro sighed as he idly began rubbing circles on Seijuro's back. Kids these days, what are you gonna do?

…

After that night, Chihiro did in fact did help solve this problem of harassment. Apparently cornering people in a darkened hallway and threatening them with murder if they ever hurt Seijuro again seemed to be really effective. Who knew? Seijuro no longer had any problems in school after that, all thanks to Chihiro. So when they were walking home behind the others the next day after basketball practice, he took a deep breath and said the words he had been holding in all day.

"Thank you, Chihiro-nii-san." The grey-haired teenager looked down at Seijuro with a perplexed expression.

"Thank you for what?" he questioned.

"For helping me solve my problem."

"Ah, it was no big deal or anything," he said with the wave of his hand. "I'm just fulfilling my duties as an older brother. I basically signed up for it, you know." Seijuro chuckled.

"I'll say my thanks anyway."

"Oi, you two! If you don't hurry up, the light'll turn red while you're crossing the street!"

The two brothers exchanged looks before staring at the street ahead.

"Shall we?"

"We shall."

And with that, they were on their way. As Chihiro took the first steps towards the crosswalk, Seijuro stared at him before smiling fondly and linking his arm with his brother's. He would've expected at least the usual eyebrow raise or something akin to confusion, but this time, Chihiro didn't say anything, and for that, Seijuro was glad. As they continued on, Seijuro watched the sky turn from bluish-yellow to a mellow hue of orange. Having an older brother wasn't so bad after all.

Okay and I'm done! This chapter was again longer than I had planned it to be so hehe #sorrynotsorry. And I hope you liked the chapter. I suppose it was a bit OOC but I'm not exactly sure (to be honest when am I ever). But yeah I'll try and get started on the next chapter. Until then...

Read and review please!