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When Takumi was a baby, he cried a lot.
Ryoma was barely old enough to understand what was going on as nurses complained and cooed over his younger brother in equal strides. Ryoma would only get to hold the silver-haired bundle of emotions on rare occasion, and he marveled at the wide amber eyes, the way that this baby never really seemed to calm down. He didn’t sleep much, he cried all the time, and he was only happy if he had someone holding him.
Orochi became his main attendant after their mother passed away and their father married their new mom, Queen Mikoto. Their new mother had a child that was older than Takumi, but younger than Ryoma and Hinoka – Corrin. Their new sister was nice, and Hinoka loved playing with her; the infant Sakura and four-year-old Takumi were ignored in favor of Ryoma’s closer siblings, his two sisters. What he knew of Takumi was primarily that Orochi put him and Sakura, the youngest sibling, together a lot, letting them cuddle with dolls and with each other.
~~~
When Takumi was six or so, he and Sakura were inseparable. Their father was dead, and Mikoto seemed to have moved from doting her own child to doting Takumi. He was a scared little kid – he wouldn’t sleep without dolls, he would cry if left alone in the dark, and he dragged his attendant Orochi around in his fears like the spoiled brat he was. Ryoma resented him by now – after all, he was 12, a big boy, the high prince of Hoshido, and he was already training with a blade and studying hard and wondering when his bratty little brother would stop crying.
It was made worse by how everyone in the castle loved Takumi. He was small and cute and pretty – his hair was smooth, not rough like Ryoma’s, and he had round cheeks and soft skin. He made for quite the sight, running around with a doll clutched to his chest and Orochi frantically tried to find where the little prince had gotten to, where he had hidden today.
If nothing else, Ryoma had to give Takumi credit for being obsessively in love with his little sister, constantly asking to see Sakura, asking if he could take his naps with her instead of in his room. Takumi was a small disaster on two shockingly steady feet, almost never tripping himself up or falling down.
Perhaps that made for two credits to be given: Takumi was a good brother and a damn good runner.
~~~
By the time Takumi was ten, he was using a yumi proficiently and was worryingly good with a sword, his secondary weapon. Ryoma was settling well into his role of high prince, 16 years old, gifted with a divine weapon and the training necessary to be prepared to take over the role of his father. Hinoka was even more obsessed with her training than Takumi, and Ryoma found himself still admiring his younger brother for being a slightly better big brother to Sakura than he was – but it was also infuriating, seeing a ten-year-old walk around hand-in-hand with their six-year-old sister, sitting down to play dolls with her and letting her follow him to the archery range. Sakura needed better influences in her life than a surly boy who kept picking fights with other kids.
Ryoma found himself a little bitter when he watched Takumi fumble his way through social graces, far worse than Ryoma had been at that age; Takumi would stutter and blush, fidget and only stay put so that Sakura could hide behind him. He would run to their mother if pressed too much, get mad if you pointed it out, and aggressively tried to assert that he wasn’t a momma’s boy, how could he be, that wasn’t even his real mom.
(He would always start crying after saying that, and comforting him just made him angrier, so Ryoma chose to focus on his training and his studies and not his bratty little brother.)
~~~
Takumi beat up his first retainer as a way of picking him when he was twelve, and Ryoma thought that it suited Takumi to pick someone who clearly had no social grace and looked more suited to fighting in the streets than to serving a royal.
Takumi was pretty, sure (everyone still cooed over him, how he was growing into such a beautiful young man), but you couldn’t hide a scared, angry core with practiced smiles.
~~~
(Ryoma was torn between a brotherly sort of concern and a princely sort of disappointment when he learned Takumi was still having nightmares – everyone had really hoped he would grow out of that.)
~~~
At fifteen, Takumi was quite the physical force to be reckoned with, and his love of scrolls and history couldn’t be matched by any of his siblings. If you let him, he would ramble on and on about ancient governments and battles and the tactics that lead to so-and-so winning such-and-such, and it took all of Ryoma’s patience to listen in. Ryoma had grown past resenting Takumi and moved on into trying to mold him into a proper second prince – it was becoming steadily apparent that Takumi was the smartest of them all, that if Ryoma could get him away from the archery fields and got him into the library, he would be of even better use to Hoshido.
Ryoma heard rumors that Takumi wasn’t sleeping much, but he didn’t pay it too much mind until a family dinner where he saw it. Takumi ate briefly, almost nothing, and then excused himself – worrying enough behavior, but Takumi was a moody teenager and pulled this all the time. It was unbefitting of a prince, but Mikoto refused to let Ryoma call Takumi out on the habit.
But no, what got his attention was watching Takumi stumble, stutter out an apology, and then flee.
Takumi had been light on his feet since he was a kid, always good at both running away from trouble and running right into it, so it was only when Takumi couldn’t even stand up properly that Ryoma saw the deep bags under his eyes, the exhaustion in every part of his body, the look of misery on his face.
He mentioned something to Takumi’s retainers, and he wished he could say he didn’t understand why Oboro looked at him as though he had personally offended her by not speaking to his younger brother himself.
~~~
“Just – Ryoma, why won’t you spar with me lately?! We’ve always sparred since we were kids – “
“I don’t have time for you right now!”
Ryoma regretted it the second he said it. Takumi was only seventeen, and while he understood that Ryoma was under a lot of stress right now with trade agreements and angry nobles who wanted answers to how they were going to deal with all of the problems Hoshido was facing from their neighbors, Takumi was also his younger brother, someone who had been craving validation and attention since he was born, and someone who had been trying to connect with his older siblings for years. He was good kid, even if he could be difficult at times. Ryoma wanted the best for Takumi, and tried to be patient, but playing the role of substitute father, older brother, and future king was a lot of stress for someone barely into their twenties.
The change in Takumi was immediate. Ryoma could see the stiffening of his posture, the glaze in his eyes, that look of “I knew it” and “I really shouldn’t have bothered him” and “I’m not important,” and Ryoma could barely get out a “Wait, Takumi – “ before his younger brother was gone, out of Ryoma’s room and into the castle grounds.
(When Ryoma looked for him later, he heard that Takumi had decided to go for a week long hunting trip, taking only his kinshi, a bag, and the Fujin Yumi. Not even his retainers were with him, and Ryoma felt hot shame crawl down his neck every time he walked by Oboro and Hinata, who looked at him not as their future king, but as the man who had cruelly turned down his younger brother.)
~~~
When they had Corrin back, Takumi was infuriating, asking why they were letting an “enemy” royal into the castle, shouldn’t we at least take her weapon, yes, we’re related, but she’s Nohrian we’re at war with them.
“Takumi,” Ryoma sighed, taking a moment to pull him off to the side. It hurt to step away from Corrin, their precious sibling, and it was hard to leave the heartwarming sight of Hinoka and Sakura talking to their sister, but Takumi needed to be set straight. He was just being so – unbrotherly. “I know you’re feeling jealous, but to lash out at Corrin like this is just immature –“
“I-Immature?” Takumi stuttered, eyes wide with anger and frustration, cheeks turning a hot red, “Ryoma, you’re being – I know you’re feeling sentimental, but she’s a huge security risk!”
“Don’t let your jealousy ruin this reunion, brother. You’re being paranoid.”
~~~
Takumi’s paranoia proved true.
The funeral for their mother was cut short by war, and Ryoma told himself that he was just being a good high prince when he forced himself to move on.
Takumi didn’t quite see it that way. Ryoma could see it in the way he looked at him and Hinoka as if they had betrayed him by not listening to him in the first place and betrayed him further by not mourning properly for their lost mother and instead moving straight into the fight.
It probably didn’t help that all they found themselves talking about was Corrin.
~~~
With the war in full swing, Takumi became a much more obedient royal, doing whatever Ryoma asked him to – prepare tactics plans, research the land, attend war councils. Ryoma told him that he wanted him to become his advisor one day and Takumi lit up, mind clearly going a mile a minute and eyes bright for the first time in a long while.
It had hurt, Takumi telling him he thought of himself a soldier to be moved at Ryoma’s need, to defend his future king, but Ryoma knew that as a future king, he couldn’t tell Takumi that he was wrong, that he was a person before he was Ryoma’s tool. But if Ryoma couldn’t comfort his brother as a brother, then he would do so as a king, and he made sure to praise Takumi’s improvement in skill (and felt fear that it was finally going to happen, his little brother was soon going to be able to kick his ass in a fight) and his sharp mind. He made time to spar with his brother, reminding himself that it was both the only way he really knew how to bond with Takumi and made for excellent training.
Seeing how blinding Takumi’s smile was when he was proud of himself made Ryoma’s heart hurt in the best way possible. It made losing an easy pill to swallow, really.
~~~
Takumi was right by his side when they finally had time to mourn after the war, head lowered in respect and silent despite his tears.
It seemed like not so long ago that Ryoma found his little brother’s tendency to blush and cry an embarrassment to the royal family – he had been so blinded by his desire to be a good king that he drowned himself in politics and appearances. Now, though, he saw what it really was: an open sort of strength that could only come from knowing all of your weaknesses intimately. His brother was not the stoic prince people would expect – no, he was emotional, quick to get angry and equally quick to regret it, easy to move to tears and hard to get to smile. But he was growing, rapidly becoming the sort of advisor Ryoma knew he needed, knew Hoshido needed.
Because despite his emotional nature, Takumi made good tactical decisions, gave sound advice even when he clearly hated what he was saying, and kept pushing past his fears and biases to create a new era of peace. It showed in his friendship with the Nohrian prince, Leo; it showed in the fields he had learned to tend with Mozu; it showed in his strong bond with Corrin.
Takumi was a force of nature, wild and cunning and strong. Ryoma was the steady rock Hoshido was leaning on, but he was weathered by his brother, who reminded him that they were both only human – that meant making clouded judgements (Ryoma regretted letting Corrin enter with that sword more than he would ever be able to say), and that meant that they too needed to mourn the loss of their mother, they too could cry.
The thought of ruling Hoshido was terrifying, but the thought of having his little brother by his side – his advisor, his equal in combat, his emotional, whining brat of a brother by his side…
Well, the future looked bright.