In a technologically stagnated Empire, the survivability of a newborn was extremely poor, particularly for the poor. While the Empire had done well in eliminating any plagues that appear, other factors- such as childbirth- were still extremely dangerous, to both mother and child.
Zaiten, going through the rigors of premature birth and maternal stress, was doomed to be frail. Undersized and sickly, he fell ill rather easily, and even with excellent care fit for a royal child, he barely grew enough to be able to function.
The only ones who cared for him were Syura, who was constantly busy, and the nursemaids assigned to him. But, with the knowledge of who his father made public, not even the nursemaids caring for him could feel attached, though they did their best to care for him for fear of their lives.
At least, not yet.
Like any other child, his physical needs were the same. Daily feeding and burping, comfortably quiet sleep (Of which was a guaranteed non-factor for nursemaids and parents alike) and changing of diapers were standard.
Unlike most other children, Zaiten would have an uncanny sense of depth perception, developed far beyond what was expected. Every time Syura, older brother and chosen heir of the Prime Minister came by, Zaiten would immediately lock eyes and smile.
He even made cooing noises and grabbing motions, though his motor control was absolutely normal- which was to say nonexistent.
At first, Syura would react with hesitation. He- being as young as he was- had no idea what to do around the squishy child said to be his brother. But even more so, Syura felt an oddly intense feeling in his chest. A warm peace he felt around no one else; even at his young age, he knew that within the walls of the Imperial Palace there would be no friends, no true rest for the son of Honest.
Syura would be very careful holding Zaiten, his eyes locking with the little gems, smiling. When he finally made to hand him off to the nurses, the crying instantly began. Recapturing Zaiten would promptly bring about little burbling noises.
It was to this that Syura felt that unique warmth, even as he put his little brother to sleep.
Later that day he was beaten black and blue in combat training, but it was worth the cost.
When Zaiten was of age, around four years old, he was allowed to play palace children, ilk of nobles and generals alike. It was quickly evident that he was an outcast- a young child had no idea how truly hurtful they could be, more so in groups.
One such was a boy named Makoto. Emerald eyes and evergreen hair framed his face, and for some reason, all the other boys and girls of the nursery listened to what he had to say. He got whatever he wanted from the nursemaids, and so when Zaiten refused to give up his little doll, things turned for the worse. Makoto made Zaiten's life miserable in ways of cruelty that only children could accomplish. After the first week, the others followed suite in bullying him, leaving him out of games, and taking away the few toys he owned.
In hindsight, it was a mistake of Zaiten to ask his brother why they could possibly treat him that way, when he had done nothing wrong. At first, he thought nothing of the anger glinting in Syura's eyes.
That quickly changed, when the other children found gum in their hair, their favorite dolls missing limbs, and naptime blankets stained with smelly fluids.
Finally, the other children left him alone in peace. It suited him, for Zaiten just wanted to read the picture books of the nursery in peace.
But as fun as that was, his happiest times were when he could see his older brother. He would come by, often looking tired and bruised from what Syura called "training", but Zaiten could always reach his arms up and be rewarded with Syura holding him. In his eyes, nobody had the warmth quite like his brother, and his day would become brighter without fail.
A question lingered in Zaiten's mind.
One day, the green-haired child in the Royal Nursery had brought up the fact that Zaiten "didn't have a mother." Not knowing what that was, Zaiten wasn't bothered, since this was a boy who had always wanted to take his favorite toys.
Still, his curiosity was piqued, and he mentioned it to his older brother.
"Big Brother Syura? What is a mother?"
Uncomfortably silent, Syura didn't answer for a long moment. Then, "What brought this on, little Zaiten?"
"Makoto said everyone has a mother, except me. He said that they're supposed to be there to help you grow up and take care of you, but I still don't get it. You already do that for me, don't you big brother?"
The older boy's eyes softened, and his hand came down for a gentle pat atop Zaiten's head.
"...Don't you worry about a thing, little Zaiten. We don't need a mother as long as we have each other. I promise I'll always be here for you."
"Always?" Zaiten asked, staring up with wide eyes.
"It's a promise. Forever and ever, little brother."
As such, the thought of a mother was pushed from the young boy's mind.
He had Syura, after all.
It was Zaiten who would clap and praise his brother, even when Honest didn't. Deep down, Syura would always keep his brother's smile in his heart, and accept every doodle given to him.
Syura wasn't around often though, and his young life was consumed by training. Zaiten would all the more treasure the limited time they have whenever Big Brother was with him.
Forever and ever, they would be there for one another.
It was a promise.
Notes!
A little short this time, but the next ones are longer.
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