Standard Disclaimer: Fushigi Yuugi and it's characters do not belong to me. They are the property of Watase Yuu and a bunch of big companies. I am only using them for fun, I'm not making any money off of this. Please do not sue me (you wouldn't get much anyway.)
Author's Notes: I've been thinking about doing a Chiriko fic for a while now, but I wasn't sure what angle to go at it from. Then this idea just came to me. I guess lack of sleep has an up side! Um, If my thinking is correct, than Chiriko only has an older brother. Well, for the purposes of my fic, I gave him an older sister instead. This fic contains spoilers for episodes 44 and up.
Additional AN: Any similarities to Quicksilver-sama's fic 'The Other Brother' is purely coincidental. Her fic was written way before mine and I had no knowledge of it when I wrote this. *shamelessplugforQS-sama* If you like my fic, you'll love hers. Her writing is much better than mine anyway. At least in my opinion. So check it out and let her know. I'm sure she likes feedback just as much as I do.
Italics indicate a flashback-like scene.
//'s indicate a thought.
I remember my mother telling me about how my little brother didn't cry when he was born. I heard the tale a few times as I was growing up. Mother always smiled as she told me the story of Dokun's birth.
It's so unusual for a baby not to cry out at it's own birth that, at first, we feared that he had been still-born. Then the midwife gently handed me my baby. I looked down at my child. When I realized that we had been gifted with a healthy son, I was so happy that I cried for joy.
Then, Papa came and took little Dokun from me. He held him up to you and said, "Kaiko-chan, this is your little brother. You'll take good care of him, ne?"
Dokun was the baby of the family, having been born three years after myself. Mother and Father worried so much when he was little; worried that he might get sick and die, like so many of their babies had. But Dokun had been blessed with a strong spirit.
He was so quiet as a baby that my parents thought something was wrong with him. But then, Dokun spoke his first word at seven months. He was walking at nine months. Although my parents were proud, I think that sometimes they were frightened by him. By how fast he developed. But I knew that it was because he was special.
He sometimes looked at me with such intelligence, as if he were the older sibling.
Father died when I twelve and Dokun was nine. At our father's funeral Dokun told me not to be sad.
"Don't cry, oneesan. Father wouldn't want you to be sad for him."
I looked down into his green eyes. They were so full of wisdom for someone so young; so inexperienced in life.
"I am happy that Father isn't sick anymore; that he's no longer suffering," he said looking up at me.
I could only nod back at him. He clasped my hand in his smaller one and gave it a little squeeze. I smiled at him through my tears.
Once, shortly after our father's death, I saw a red-glowing symbol appear on Dokun's foot. He told me not to tell mother, that it would only make her worry. So I kept his secret. I knew that Dokun was meant for better things than being a farmer. I had heard the legend of Suzaku no Miko.
Now that I look back on things, it seems as if Dokun knew all along what he was destined for; what his ultimate fate would be.
I asked him once, when he was around twelve, what he wanted to be when he grew up.
"I don't know. I never think about it, really," he said to me.
"But, Dokun, you're so smart. And you go to that special school! If you could be anything, what would you be?"
He pondered this for a moment. His eyes became distant, as if he was looking at something that only he could see.
"Most of all, I would like to be a husband and a father," he said with a small smile.
"Silly," I said with a laugh, "You can always be that. What I meant was, what do you want to do for your job? I know! With your intelligence, I bet you could be an advisor to the Emperor someday!"
"Maybe I will be," he said.
I didn't realize then how accurate my statement would become. About a year later, he left his school to join the other Suzaku no Seishi at the Emperor's palace in the capital. Mother was very proud of him. What an honor for her son to be born a Suzaku no Seishi. I was proud, too. But I was also worried. The country was becoming more and more untamed. War was breaking out with Kutou. And he was in the middle of it all.
I don't think I'll ever forget the day I found out that he was gone. It was only a few months ago. I was working in the garden when I heard a horse coming up the road to our farm. As I looked up, I recognized that the colors the horseman wore belonged to those of the Imperial Guard. The man rode up and dismounted. As I stood, he walked over to me and made a low bow. He informed me of my brother's passing. I remember screaming for my mother. She came out of the house, took a good look at the messenger, and walked back inside.
A couple of days later, my family received a letter from the Emperor expressing his deepest sympathies. It read:
'To the Ou family,
Know that your son and brother, Ou Dokun, died with great honor. That, in sacrificing his own life, he saved those of his fellow star brothers. He has done a great service for his country, and his Emperor. His memory will be honored accordingly. I would also like to express my own personal sympathies to your family. Although I knew him only briefly, Chiriko was a good friend to have and I feel lucky to have shared even a small part of his life. He will be missed by many.
His Royal Highness,
Emperor Saihitei'
I was so angry at his death. I would read the letter the Emperor sent everyday. Sometimes it seemed to give me comfort to read it. But then I would start thinking about how unfair it was for my brother to have died so young. One day after reading the letter, I became so angry that I tore it up into tiny pieces. Mother found me asleep, on the floor of my room, surrounded by the shredded letter. She told me that I would have to make peace with myself. She suggested that I might feel better if I said good-bye to Dokun. So I came here.
But even now, as I stand at his grave, I feel that anger build inside me yet again.
"He was just a child! Why, Suzaku? Why such sacrifices? Why my little brother?"
/So that others' little brothers would be spared./
Yes. I know that is the answer.
But it doesn't make me miss him any less.
The End
Serena B. 3/31/01