and he is born

The strong bonds that tie our hearts,
Will certainly never be undone.
We have continually searched and finally reached,
This place and period.

—Period, CHEMISTRY

You are four, and he is born. You look wonderingly at the way his little hands curl, his big, big green eyes as he stares at you from between the bars of his crib. You think, So this is my brother. This is my baby brother. I'm already a sister.

Your parents then name him Houtarou. You cannot understand what they meant about the name, but they said that it holds their wishes of him growing up to be strong and respectful. You do not comprehend the concepts fully, but you know that they must be good ones. You try helping take care of him, and was there when he took his first step.

You are six and he is two. You become busier with other things, like your homework and playing with your friends from class during weekends, and he remains at home. He does not understand why you have to go to that place called "the school" yet, and sulks whenever you neglect to pay more attention to his little achievements, like cleaning up after his mess or eating all of his dinner.

You are eight, and he is four. You remember when the news arrives at the front door, with your father quickly answering the bell and collapsing at the feet of the visitor when he hears the dreadful details. You are old enough to understand that mother won't come back anymore, but uncertain as to why. Houtarou, however, sniffles at your side and remains ignorant until he notices that mother wasn't there to place his plate before him, that you were the one who has to read him bedtime stories when he cannot sleep, and when the fact finally dawned on his big verdant eyes in the form of huge tears, it breaks your little heart.

You are ten, and he is six. He learns to shun the company of his schoolmates, and occasionally comes home with bruises on his thin arms. You conclude that he was being bullied, but Houtarou hardly complains, and you think that everything will sort itself out if you pretend that the problem doesn't exist. However, the day comes when father is called to school because Houtarou got into a fight with his bully, and when they finally get home long after you had already arrived, father sends Houtarou to his room and he complies without a protest.

You are twelve, and he is eight. He's still skinny for his age, but taller than most of his classmates, and because of that the cases of bullying become few and far in between. You become interested in things like sports and become aware that there are such things as boys. Sometimes, Houtarou asks for your help in his homework, but mostly he keeps to himself. You assume that he is doing fine on his own. However, whenever he sits on the couch with a blank expression whenever the family gathers and watches television, you wonder what could be going on in his mind.

You are fourteen, and he is ten. He grows some more, and you finally notice how he doesn't seem to bring friends home like you always did. He always shuts himself in his room and sleeps, or maybe does a bit of homework or reads from the bookshelf that you share with him. The frustrating thing is that this is all surmise, and that the silence in the dinner table stretches a few more moments every evening. You think that the family is slowly falling apart. And you, engrossed in your friends and accomplishments and activities, feel that the stern looks that your father shoots you when Houtarou finishes his dinner first and stands up to leave is unfair.

You are sixteen, and he is twelve. You watch in amusement as Houtarou finds companionship in the form of Fukube Satoshi, who was practically a little ball of energy. He never brings Satoshi home, but you always see them messing around when you have free time and go over to Kaburaya Middle School―which is rather rare, as you have your Classics Club to worry about. You also try enrolling in some martial arts courses, and learn some taiho jutsu in addition to the aikido that you have learned in middle school. Houtarou quickly learns to abide by your wishes thanks to his newfound fear of your new abilities―as he was the unfortunate test subject of many of your practice moves.

You are eighteen, and he is fourteen. You learn from a bursting Satoshi that Houtarou has actually gotten himself a girlfriend, and decides to tease him with the information at every chance. He never confirms anything, but you feel the barrier between the two of you slowly decrease as his responses evolve from mere grunts to one-word answers. When he finally breaks it off (or maybe it was the other way around?), he finally admits it, and you do not let go of the topic for months until you realize that it must have been trying for his usually unruffled lifestyle.

And then, suddenly, you realize that you are already twenty, and he is already sixteen.

You become somewhat of a rebel, and had quitted college and had already stormed out of the house and was halfway to another country before your father even comprehended your actions. Houtarou does not question your actions, but he chooses to not support you as well, since he maintains that you are wasting ticket money and plane fuel to fulfill your wish of going around the world. You smile when he announces that his energy-conservation will be an apology to the world on behalf of his energy-wasting sister, and know that that was as much consent as you will ever get from this tall, lethargic young man you call your little brother.

You had sent him a letter from Benares, and his response to your suggestion to join the Classics Club was favorable. You soon learn of the existence of Chitanda Eru, and of the way he seems to get unhinged whenever she was mentioned. It's more pronounced in the phone calls that you make, rather than the letters that he sends, as his writing seems to put a blanket over what little he must have been feeling as he was writing. That's why you make it a point of calling, and calling often. You find that he has already done what you can't seem to do all those months of country-hopping―namely, ask your father that you be let to come home already.

You are twenty-one and he is fast nearing seventeen when you finally come home after conquering half the world, and when you hear his steps come down on the stairs and see him emerge in his neat Kamiyama High uniform and bag, on the way to the cultural festival, you decide to toss him something that you have treasured ever since your underclassmen have given it to you as a graduation present from the Classics Club―a black nib pen. He misses it and it clatters on the floor, but picks it up and puts it in his pocket even after complaining that he did not want your garbage.

"I'll come check it out if I'm bored!" you then tease him as he went out, and you are amused when he yells―

"No, don't!"

And you laugh as he went on his way, since you knew he missed you as well, his big sister, and was secretly hoping that you'd come to see the fruit of his perseverance in the Classics Club―the place of your youth.

You turn back to the sitting room, and smile at the window.

You are twenty-one, and he is nearing seventeen.

And you hoped that it would always stay that way, no matter how many years have passed.

You, his big sister.

And him, your little brother.

AUTHOR'S NOTES

Just a little experiment in style.