Chapter Text
Your brothers are fighting again. It feels like it’s all they know how to do.
It’s tiresome, hearing the same squabbles over and over. You don’t let them see how their barbs and boasts and accusations grind in your ears, coalescing into a dull ache right between your eyes.
You’re the steady one. The quiet one. That’s who they need you to be.
You feel anything but.
You see it all, of course. Your brothers find it eerie, how you always know what they’re feeling. But it’s no mystical power. It’s just a matter of listening closely when everyone else is shouting.
You see how Tahu boasts and blusters and takes unnecessary risks because he worries he’ll cave under the pressure of leading you all. How Kopaka goes off on his own because he’s terrified of giving up control to anyone else. How Onua holds his tongue when he shouldn’t because he hates to be contrary. You see it all, even though it’s a burden to be the only one who sees it.
No one ever made it your job to hold things together, but someone has to do it.
You swallow your pride. You swallow your rage. It’s what they’re asking you to do without asking. You become what they need you to be in the name of Unity. A chain holding together five kikanalo that all want to rampage in different directions. Never mind how the chain groans and creaks under the pressure. So long as it hasn’t snapped yet, all is well.
You speak words of wisdom because if you don’t, you fear you’ll scream.
You keep them together.
Your brothers are fighting again.
How many times can they repeat the same tired arguments about resource allocation, laboratory equipment, test subjects? Posturing, boasting, biting and clawing each other for scraps of Miserix’s attention.
You’re the steady one. The quiet one. It’s what they expect of you.
Since you’re the only one not loudly running your mouth, you notice things the others don’t. How Chirox and Mutran mask their mutual admiration as hate. How Antroz depends on others to tell him what’s right because he can’t trust his own judgment. How Bitil stabs anyone who gets too close in the back because he’s afraid if they get close they’ll see there isn’t much to him. How Gorast just needs someone, anyone to tell her she did a good job for once.
And you notice how Teridax notices all these things too. How he fuels them. An insult here, a rumor there, he draws them closer and closer to himself and further and further away from Miserix.
You know it’s not leading anywhere good. You could do something to stop it. You don’t.
No one ever made it your job to hold things together, after all. It’s a burden to be the only one who sees it.
So, you roll your eyes and yawn in Convocation. You hold your tongue when you see things. You walk away when they come to you for advice. You stay in your lab, do your job. Why rock the boat?
You let them drift apart.
