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Iori just wanted to help.
Mitsuki had come home in complete silence. He hadn’t come back from school at his usual time, and he wasn’t wearing his uniform when he walked through the door. Iori looked up from his homework, carefully examining his brother. He was wearing sweatpants, a t-shirt and comfortable sneakers. His face looked just slightly red, and his breath sounded a little short.
However, he straightened his back as soon as his eyes met Iori’s, and he smiled. Iori furrowed his brow, and even at twelve years old he knew when his brother was smiling at him and when he was just trying to be a good big brother. Even still, Mitsuki was a good big brother. He was the perfect big brother. And he smiled anyway, even if they both knew it was fake. Iori knew that he should just respect that and go back to his homework quietly.
But he didn’t want to. He just stared, waiting to be told how to react and what to do to help.
“You’re home!” His mother rushed in from the kitchen to greet her eldest son. She hugged him warmly, rustling his hair and pressing their foreheads together. “How’d the audition go?”
Mitsuki took one large step back, and one deep breath. Iori swore he saw his smile falter. And then he swore that Mitsuki’s eyes darted his direction, if only for a second. He looked back to his mother, the grin back on his face. “Great! I’m…I’m going to go practice! W-we’ll talk later, okay?”
His voice sounded so much different then it normally did, Iori noticed. But he couldn’t quite place it. Not until Mitsuki was darting towards his room, his hand flying to his face for the briefest moment. And Iori could almost taste the tears running down his face.
His mother only nodded, watching her son run in complete silence. Her own smile shriveled off of her face, into a quiet frown. She closed her eyes, sighing deeply. She turned to her youngest son, giving the softest smile she could possibly muster. “Let’s make something to cheer him up, Iori-kun. What do you think we should make?”
Iori furrowed his brow.
“I want to go watch him dance,” he finally said. He didn’t want to stick a Band-Aid on the problem. He didn’t want to make cakes and pretend all of the hurt could go away. He wanted his brother back in top form. He wanted to see his brother dance and laugh and smile, like he always did when he practiced. He wanted to cheer him on, just like always. He knew that if Mitsuki saw that he had a fan, someone that saw all the good things he could do, he would feel so much better.
His mother shook her head with another sigh. “Alright. But if he tells you that he wants to be left alone…”
“He won’t,” Iori said, completely sure. Sometimes his brother did shoo him away. When he was trying a new recipe that needed a lot of concentration, or when he was with his high school friends. It had hurt the first few times, but Iori understood. Besides, Mitsuki never shut his brother out when he danced. He always asked for opinions, and he always basked in the applause. It was one thing that they always had, and one thing that he knew they always would have. And in the future, when his brother was a famous idol, Iori would be in the audience, surrounded by hundreds of people who felt the same way.
Mitsuki fell to the ground as soon as Iori opened the door.
“Iori!” Mitsuki nearly shouted, scrambling to his feet as he rushed to pause the song. He had gotten right to work, already well into the chorus of one of Zero’s songs when Iori entered. Iori knew the song well, thanks to Mitsuki practicing the dance over and over again. He loved that song, and one day wanted to hear Mitsuki sing it too. “What are you doing?! I’m…I’m practicing very hard!”
“You’re crying,” Iori said, despite himself. He had nothing else to say, really. Iori never thought that crying made someone pathetic or weak, and watching Mitsuki cry never made him think any less of his brother. But that didn’t mean he wanted to see it. And that certainly didn’t mean that he could simply just walk away.
“Y-yeah, I am, aren’t I?” Mitsuki faltered, turning his head over to his music player. “I’ll be fine though. So you don’t need to be here.”
“I want to watch though. I can go get my cheering fan.”
It was a little old, and a little embarrassing nowadays. He had made the fan with his brother’s help when they were younger. Mitsuki had made one for Zero, and wanted Iori to make one for his favorite idol too. Iori couldn’t think of anyone, so he drew his brother’s name on it. Mitsuki had cried that day too, but it was a lot different than it was now. He still had it, and while he didn’t always use it when he helped with dance practice, he wanted to grab it now.
“It’s fine. I want to practice alone today.” Mitsuki swallowed down his tears, and his lips quivered into the shape of a smile. “Practice makes perfect after all, right? So if I practice enough I’ll…”
“You’re already perfect, Onii-ch…Nii-san.” Iori wanted to sound as serious as he felt. He couldn’t keep using cute nicknames if he wanted Mitsuki to take him seriously. If he wanted Mitsuki to believe that he meant every single word.
Mitsuki blinked at him, almost in surprise. His eyes were swollen and his face was still red, and his limbs looked stiff and heavy, as though weighed down with the thought that his efforts were for nothing, and everything he did would never be good enough.
Iori stepped forward to place a comforting hand on his brother’s shoulder, and for the first time, he noticed that the two were almost the exact same height.
Mitsuki stepped back once again, this time from his own brother. And there wasn’t a smile on his face, not even a pretend one. “I want to practice alone today,” he tried again, his voice thin and forceful. “I’ll show you when I’m done. It’ll be perfect this time, I promise.”
Iori wasn’t sure who Mitsuki was promising, but he nodded in agreement anyway. “I can-“
“You can’t.” Mitsuki finally said, something in his voice snapping, as the tears began to rise up again, freshly prickling at his eyes. He was quick to wipe them away, but Iori still saw. “You don’t need to help all the time. You can do something you want to do.”
“I want to watch you.”
“Then find something else. Something that’s just yours.” Mitsuki was almost shaking. And Iori finally took a step back, realizing that he was shaking too, but he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to have anything that was ‘just his’. He wanted to share with his brother. He wanted to bask in his brother’s light, and share it between the two of them. Then one day, he wanted to share it with the world.
But right now, Mitsuki needed to get the light back. And Iori was helpless to do anything except back away.
Mitsuki shut the door as soon as Iori was back in the hallway. “When I’m ready,” Mitsuki promised again, voice tight and smile forced. Iori stood there as he heard the lock click shut, swallowing thickly as he debated what to do. He didn’t want to leave. His homework could wait a little while longer, and his mother didn’t really need help in the kitchen. Zero’s song started playing from the top, muffled behind the door but Iori could still make out every note and every lyric.
And if he pressed his ear against the door, and listened very closely, he could almost hear Mitsuki, quietly singing along as he danced.
He sunk down, sitting on the floor as he listened, picturing his brother in his mind. His brother had wanted to be an idol for as long as he could remember. Iori didn’t have a goal like that. He had things he liked. And things he liked to do. He had things he talked about at school, and things that he kept hidden away at home to make sure no one would tease him. But he only had one dream.
And he sat at the door, patiently waiting for his brother to finish practicing, so that he could continue to watch that dream come true.