Chapter Text
Time passed without anyone really noticing. Seasons came and went, and Zanka continued to grow up healthy and strong. Now, he was already one year old. He could crawl fast, and had started taking his first shaky steps. Two, maybe three at a time. Falling had become a daily occurrence.
Kyouka couldn’t hide her pride as she watched her youngest sibling grow. As for Goka, he preferred spending his time training rather than babysitting, but even he couldn’t completely suppress his amazement at how quickly the baby was developing.
Zanka had become much more active, and that alone was a nightmare for his two older siblings.
The first hardship Kyouka faced as the eldest was Zanka’s sudden clamping his mouth shut phase. It was incredibly difficult to coax him into accepting even a spoonful of soft, slightly runny porridge from her.
Truth be told, Zanka wasn’t usually this fussy. Only with her.
If it was their mother or his caretakers—Mai or Mei—Zanka would eat eagerly, mouth opening without protest. Kyouka tried everything: oversized spoonfuls piled high, tiny portions barely a quarter of a baby spoon. Still, Zanka refused to open his mouth. If she pushed it too far, nudging the spoon against his small lips, Zanka would snap.
Full-on tantrum. He’d thrash and slam the bowl off his baby chair.
Whenever Kyouka reached her limit, she’d end up calling one of Zanka’s caretakers.
She hated giving up, but she did. It felt like an unsolved mystery, a phenomenon she couldn’t crack: Zanka’s feeding refusal phase only happened when she was the one feeding him.
That was when Kyouka suddenly remembered Goka’s childhood.
Back then, she’d never really had the chance to take care of him. Their age gap was too small.
One day, Kyouka ordered a servant to call Goka to her room.
He arrived looking tense and drenched in sweat straight after training. The boy knelt respectfully in front of his eldest sister. The baby Zanka sitting calmly in his chair.
“What is it, Nee-san?”
Kyouka didn’t answer right away. Goka, who’d been watching nervously, felt something was off.
She was supposed to be feeding Zanka porridge… So why was she holding a bowl of cereal?
Don’t tell me the baby’s appetite has grown so much and a bowl of porridge isn’t enough anymore? No wonder he’s getting chubbier, Goka thought, staring at Zanka in mild horror.
“Here. Eat.”
Instead of feeding Zanka, Kyouka offered a spoonful of cereal to Goka.
The portion was perfect. Neither too big, nor too small. No milk dripping. Exactly one bite.
Now it was Goka’s turn to stare at her in horror.
He never expected Kyouka to try feeding him.
Before he could react, Kyouka carefully using every ounce of gentleness she possessed spoke again.
“Goka, say aaa,” she coaxed softly, a faint smile on her lips.
A smile so rare, it could stop someone’s heart.
Goka swallowed hard, his throat bobbing as he weighed whether this was the start of a bad dream, or a streak of misfortune waiting for him ahead.
After a moment of silence, he finally parted his lips and accepted the bite his older sibling offered.
Goka chewed nervously, then accepted a second bite, still hesitant.
Neither of the older siblings noticed that Zanka was watching them with a wide, satisfied grin.
Kyouka felt quietly astonished that he’d managed to coax his famously aloof first younger brother this far. After three spoonfuls, she stopped and finally turned back to Zanka.
Same tactic. A small spoonful, and gentle coaxing.
Zanka opened his mouth and clapped his hands in delight, as if wholeheartedly accepting the way Kyouka fed him this time.
Seeing that, Kyouka celebrated quietly, lifting a clenched fist and letting out a restrained cheer, savoring her small victory.
But that only made Goka feel even more unsettled.
— Nap Time Drama
A lullaby drifted softly, low and gentle, from the older sister’s lips for her younger sibling.
In one hours Kyouka didn't stop patting Zanka’s bottom, calming him when he had been fussy, until he finally fell asleep. After making sure the baby was truly fast asleep, Kyouka minimized her movements so that no sound would slip through the quiet.
But suddenly the door opened, Goka’s head peeking through the gap. The first younger sibling was just about to open his mouth when Kyouka shot him a sharp look, a warning for Goka not to make a sound.
Goka reflexively controlled his voice.
"Nee-san,” he whispered. Soft, almost impossible to hear. “Natsume-sensei is looking for you.”
Goka conveyed the information so that Kyouka wouldn’t miss practice. Kyouka replied with a nod.
As she stood up and was about to leave—
“ACHOO!”
—Goka suddenly sneezed.
The sneeze was extremely loud, easily waking the baby. Zanka startled awake and immediately began to whine.
“Euh….”
“Goka.” Kyouka glared sharply at her brother. She had worked so hard to lull Zanka to sleep, and Goka, in less than a second, had woken him up.
“Take responsibility.”
“Hey, can’t we ask Mai-san or Mei-san instead?” Goka was already late to head to the hall for practice.
Kyouka didn’t answer right away.
“Who was it that woke him up?”
Her voice was colder this time. It made Goka flinch.
…Uh. He really shouldn’t have tried to dodge responsibility earlier.
Kyouka watched closely as Zanka’s small whimpers grew louder. Goka could already imagine it, if Zanka started crying for real, he would be facing sparring straight out of hell, courtesy of his sister.
Goka swallowed hard. A bead of sweat the size of a corn kernel slid down his temple. Hesitantly, he stepped closer and carefully picked up Zanka, who was squirming uncomfortably from all the noise around him.
“Hush, hush, hush. Sleep, okay? Sleep.”
If you don’t fall asleep, I'm dead.
He cradled the small body against his chest. It felt heavier than it should, heavy in a way that made him hold his breath, as if even the movement of his diaphragm might disturb the baby. His shoulders were stiff, only his arms moving slowly, gently, following the rhythm of Zanka’s breathing.
One minute.
Five minutes.
Ten minutes.
It didn’t take long before Zanka’s whimpering faded away, the baby drifting back into sleep.
Seizing the moment, Goka carefully lowered Zanka onto the futon, every movement exaggeratedly gentle. He pulled the blanket up to the baby’s chest and retreated without making a sound.
Only then did Goka look up to check his sister’s reaction.
Kyouka stared back at him with an unreadable expression; flat, clearly dissatisfied. It had taken her a long time to put Zanka to sleep, and Goka had managed it in less than ten minutes.
…Hah.
Goka wasn’t sure whether he was supposed to feel proud of that.
— A Stick
After yesterday’s incident, Kyouka started suspending the task of watching over their little sibling to Goka. Whether she was annoyed, or simply wanted to see just how much better Goka was at taking care of Zanka than she was, no one really knew.
Goka had no idea what his sister was planning, and took Zanka out to the backyard to walk around.
Even though he bragged about what happened yesterday, Goka was actually still awkward carrying Zanka. His little brother was somewhere between cooperative and not. Proven by how Zanka kept trying to wriggle free, pushing his own body as if asking to be put down.
“You can’t crawl on the ground, Zanka,” Goka scolded. He adjusted Zanka’s hold again and again.
“Uh,” the baby whimpered. His hands reached downward. Goka followed the direction of those small hands. He saw a wooden stick lying on the ground.
A broken piece of wood. Left on the dirt, covered in grime and who-knew-what other unhygienic things stuck to it.
Goka refused firmly. “That’s dirty.”
But Zanka couldn’t take his eyes off the stick. His tiny lips pouted in a whine, reaching toward it as if he could grab it.
“Uh, uh. Tik!”
In the end, Goka couldn’t ignore it. Another reason was that he didn’t want to deal with the risk of Zanka crying. He had been aware for a while, but only now did he truly realize that his little brother had an interest in something called sticks.
Goka crouched down, picked up the stick his brother wanted using the tips of his thumb and index finger, exactly like handling something filthy. Then he washed it under the tap first, dried it by shaking it hard, and only then handed it to Zanka. He did all of this while still holding his brother, who had been visibly delighted ever since Goka picked up the stick.
Zanka accepted it happily. Proof of that was how he lifted the wooden stick as if he had just received a sacred weapon.
“…Please, watch your weapon,” Goka hissed, holding back his emotions.
Small hands accepted the stick proudly from his brother. Zanka swung it around. But it nearly stabbed Goka in the nose. He reflexively grabbed the tip to stop it.
“I’ll throw your stick away!” Goka snatched the stick from Zanka, threatening to toss it far away.
The little child didn’t understand anything, but his big eyes stared up at Goka’s angry face and slowly turned sad.
Goka faltered at those round, glassy eyes. He froze for a moment, then let out a long sigh.
“Okay, okay. I admit it. You always manage to beat me with this.”
Goka gave up, returning the stick back to Zanka.
Another day.
That morning, Kyouka took Zanka out to play on the side veranda next to the reading room. Of course, almost every house had safety barriers installed for a child as small as him. Kyouka sat down, reading a book and reviewing yesterday’s class material. Nearby, Zanka played on his own, scattering all his toys around with yesterday’s wooden stick.
Then his big eyes shifted, fixing on his older sister. As if bored of destroying the lego pieces, he crawled over toward her.
“What is it, Zanka?” Kyouka asked, confused. Zanka tugged at her sleeve.
“Uh.” Zanka lifted the small wooden stick toward Kyouka.
“You want to play with this?”
Kyouka actually felt that this thing didn’t belong in the house. She took it,more like snatched it from Zanka while he was distracted. Without hesitation, she tossed the stick aside.
Zanka realized he’d been tricked and didn’t accept it. With hands bracing his still-unstable weight, he stood up on his small legs and walked over to take his belonging back.
Seeing that, Kyouka couldn’t hold back her amazement at watching her little brother stand on his own even though he was only a year old. Wobbly steps—walk, fall, walk again—but he stayed stubborn, determined to get his stick back.
“You're doing really well.”
Kyouka smiled faintly, unmistakably proud.
That afternoon, Kyouka showed Goka her trick of throwing the stick, letting Zanka learn how to walk in a way that was efficient and fun.
At first, Goka was curious about what kind of method she meant.
But when he actually saw Kyouka toss the stick he’d picked up yesterday and let Zanka go get it himself, it made Goka break out in cold sweat.
Onee-san, why are you treating your little brother like a puppy?!