Shinya-kun

1: Lasting in the Midst of Change

A/N: This story is a narration of Itou Shinya's (the security chief on the Yamato in 2199) life story. Every chapter (except for two) will jump a few years or so.

A/N: This is a short story. It won't be any longer than 5 chapters.

2181 10:20 PM

"We're not moving,"
I wasn't going to stand for it. I didn't care how "wonderful" the Shiga prefecture was supposed to be.

I wasn't moving.

"Itou-kun,"

My mother bent down on her right knee, meeting my eyes with a sympathetic frown. "I know it's hard, but Shiga has been gaining some popularity lately. And I don't just mean the locales,"
I straightened my posture questioningly.

"Thanks to the artifact discovery several years ago, the area has significantly increased in value. One of the best universities in the country is in that region."
She almost desperately consoled me, gently placing her hands on my shoulders.

"Itou, this isn't about any one of us. This is about you and your sister's future."

She tightened her grip. "Please, try to understand. We're only thinking about what's best for you,"
"Then we wouldn't be moving!" I said, shaking out of her grasp. "I wanna stay here, my friends are here, I have everything I want here, and I don't want anything to change."
"Shinya,"
My father sternly interjected.

"We know what's best for you. I will not let you turn into the failure of a man I was."

I stared into his eyes, pleading tears begging him to reconsider his stance. It was a hopeless gesture, of course, my father never backed down when he emphasized a command. Being young, however, I felt I could do anything I put my mind to. A bit of a stubborn idealistic streak if you will.

Realizing my plea, he crossed his arms, and stoically shook his head.

Well, I tried.

"Dad-"
"I'm sorry, Itou," He said, softening his defense by using my first name. "I hope one day you'll understand why we did this."
"Yeah right,"

He furrowed his eyebrows sternly.

"How could I when there's nothing to understand?"

I dashed out of the living room hall and into the large, woody area behind our house.

"Give him time," I faintly heard my mother console him. "He'll be happy again,"
Sighing, I threw my body down on the pine wood porch right above the ground, and tightened my fists impetuously.

At that time, I was a bit of a deep thinker. I dare say I was twice as intelligent as the kids who were still growing up around me. Academically, I had earned my parents' respect years ago, from the time I'd started first grade. In reality, I should've seen their decision to move coming a mile a while.

However, I was only twice as smart as the people around me.

"Shinya!"
I would've recognized that voice if I was miles away from my home driving in one of the noisier garbage trucks. She had a tendency for rather loudly announcing my presence, despite the fact we'd been family for six years now. My father joked it was a sign of feminine arrogance at an early age. It was quite a bit of time before I understood exactly what he was talking about.

"Shinya-kuun!"
Predictably, I couldn't stand that shrill screech for very long.
"I'm out here!" I yelled in tone, adding somewhat of an amateurish malice under the pitch of my words.

Stomping loudly across the hard-wood floor, she growled viciously in my direction, placing her hands childishly on her hips.

"Why are you so mad? Ya didn't have to yell, you know."
On the contrary, my sister's dialect was quite typical for a six year old girl.

From the day she was born, I'd felt a rather strong averseness to the idea of having a sister. Everything about her reeked with a domineering sense of innocence that I just couldn't stand. Calling it foolish jealousy would most certainly be accurate, as I could never logically justify my pestering fears.

"Leave me alone," I said, turning my head to the side. My sister, however, was one of those people who didn't like to give up.

Jumping from the little elevated porch above the grass, she scooted around my despairing figure, and met with my eyes.

I didn't want to give her the satisfaction of getting angry. Instead, I looked to the other side.

She met up with me again.

I faced the other side.

She met up with me again.

At this point, her impertinent behavior had far exceeded my tolerance level. Thus, I reacted accordingly.

"Would you get out of my face?! Dang, you're annoying."
"Itou," Her imitation of mom could have used work. "Don't try to scare me. Big brothers are supposed to take care of little sisters."

"I'm not big; I'm short for my age. Why do you think I don't play sports?" At the time, that was one thing I'd said to her that was actually true. It never bothered much, but I couldn't help feeling a streak of envy when I noticed how tall some of my classmates were. Had it not been for my superior intellect, I might have acted more pensive towards them for it.

"That's not what 'big brother' means. You know how that works, right? You're suppose to luv me, and take care of me, and make sure I never cry."
"Well, if that's what a big brother is to you, then you better find a new one." I shifted myself away from her again. "You wanna know why I'm so upset? I'm sad 'cause mom and dad said we're moving."
"Moving?" She didn't get it. I should've expected her to be ignorant of such a concept. "What does that mean?"
"It means we're going to be living somewhere else!" I felt bitter tears stinging the corners of my eyes as I yelled. "Now do you get what I'm talking about?"

I threw my face forcefully into my knees, retracted into a fetal position, and cried. I hated crying; especially in front of my sister. It made me feel both immature, and useless. Ultimately, I just wished my sister would get the idea, and buzz off.

She did get the idea, just not in the way I was thinking of at the time.

The next time I looked at her she was crying.

Her face was buried deep into her hands. I noticed a couple of tear drops fall on the pine wood edge she sat on.

"Stop crying… Please, I can't cheer you up right now. I can't…"

She annoyed me. When she was three, I lost my temper whenever I couldn't understand her, and I rarely ever went out of my way to do anything for her. I never really tried to protect her, and there were many times I was certain I didn't love her.

But I could stop her tears.

"Hey,"

She looked up at me, her bright auburn eyes red from crying.

"Don't cry, okay? Only big brothers are allowed to cry,"
I stroked one of her loose, chestnut bangs behind her ear. I gave her a couple of minutes to compose herself before continuing.

"Do you wanna know why I was so angry?"
She slide her finger under her eyelid, and nodded.

"Okay," I took a deep breath, gazing at the crescent moon illuminating the sky below.

"I don't like it when things change. When things change, I don't know what I'm supposed to expect. I have to learn what the world's like again, and what the people in the world are gonna be like. It sounds weird, but I wann… want to make sure I know what's right in front of me. I… I hate feeling like I stuff is different. I don't want to feel like I'm… Not as important as everybody else."
I glanced back her way for a moment. "Does that make any sense?"
"Yeah," She sniffed much the same way I did. "And it sounds selfish."
I never was very good at trying to express my feelings. Whenever I did, it either sounded like I was losing my temper or that I didn't even have a basic grasp of my language skills. I shouldn't have been surprised that my six year old sister would respond in such a way.

"Hey, I'm not trying to be selfish," I huffed, forcing my eyes back towards the stars. "And even if it is selfish, I already told you I wasn't a big brother."
"That's not true,"
"Huh?" I focused my eyes on her, a carefree smile erasing the tears in her eyes. "What do you mean?"
Out of the blue, she wrapped her gentle little arms around me, burying her face into my side.

"Because you wiped my tears away." She smiled even brighten than before, revealing year-old dimples on her cheeks.

"That's how I know you love me,"
The shock in my face turned into peace. I smiled just like her, and patted her head with my hand.
"Alright… But if you get to you love me, then you have to meet a condition."
"A condition?" She said, retreating from her embrace.

"The word's not important," I sighed. "If you get to love me like you say, then you have to promise not to cry."
A childish promise. An idealistic promise. At that time, I thought I could do anything. I thought I could save the world.

"Can you promise me that?"
She puzzled over my words. Only for a moment, though. She responded by giggling an infant's laugh.

"I promise,"
I thought I could make sure she would always love me.