Chapter Text
There’s something strange about your brother when you finally catch sight of him pushing his bicycle up the last stretch of road leading up to your house. The exhaustion is typical, but today his helmet hangs off one of the handlebars and he keeps his head down the entire time it takes for him to prop his bicycle up in its stand.
“Nii-san! You okay?”
“Oh, Mitsuko-chan.” He calls your name cheerfully enough, but there’s something in his voice. “I didn’t see you there.”
He suddenly goes to wipe at his eyes, and the back of his hand shines when he pulls it away from his face. Now you know for sure that something is wrong.
“Did something happen?”
He looks up at you again, eyes over bright.
“I’m not–” he tries. “I’m not the ace anymore.”
He sounds as shocked as you feel. You try not to let the surprise show on your face, but your brother quickly looks away. The only reason you know what an ace is is because he wouldn’t stop talking about it when he was made ace of the cycling team two weeks ago. You learned over dinner that night that the ace is the best one – the one to win.
“But how come?”
He takes a deep breath before answering.
“There was a new student today. He said he wanted to join the team. We were all excited – he looked like he had experience, he already had his own helmet and shoes…”
Your brother starts running his hands through his hair as he talks, pushing up the tuft of hair that always falls down on his forehead.
“He said he would challenge me, to be the ace. I thought, why not? I thought it wouldn’t be a problem. He was a freshman, he wasn’t dressed properly – he didn’t even bring his own bike.”
Your brother is still wearing all his cycling gear, the purple jersey with the sakura petals on the back and the white plastic cycling cleats that click against the ground when he walks. He starts to take off his shoes and you wrinkle your nose, although you don’t say anything.
Your brother, traditionally the subject of excited chatter from your friends when he comes to pick you up from school, the newly minted captain of the high school cycling team and university bound for sure. Your brother, now sitting on the floor and staring blankly at his toes.
“He beat me by three minutes. I started in front and I thought it was fine, but then I heard him laughing–”
His voice gets louder and louder.
“It was just a game to him. He wasn’t even taking it seriously and he still wiped the floor with me!”
It’s rare that you ever see your brother lose his temper – you try to search for something to say, but his anger evaporates almost as quickly as it comes.
“I’m sorry,” he says, voice hoarse. He doesn’t look at you. “Please don’t tell mom. I’m sorry I shouted. I’ll tell her myself later.”
*
It’s a sort of tradition you have with your son, to bike down to the river every Sunday morning. But he looks at you hesitantly when you bring it up at breakfast.
“Is it alright if we don’t cycle today?” he asks. “Could we take a jog there instead?”
*
“I can barely recognise the club anymore”, your son says, quietly.
“Yamaguchi nearly fainted on the rollers today, and Ihara was so angry… But he was angry at Midousuji, not me. It should be me. It’s my fault.”