a guide on how to NOT be a good brother- by Atsumu Miya

⋆｡˚ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 7❀

Over the next month or so, I noticed that Osamu had been eating less and less, I'm sure Suna noticed it also, but neither of us said anything to anyone, not even him. He was beginning to look like one flick to the head would put him in a life-or-death situation, but that didn't stop the ongoing abuse. My parents, being the amazing parents they were, never took Osamu not eating much as a serious issue. Whenever they asked him about it he would say "I'm trying to lose weight to help me in volleyball." Which- for some reason- my parents thought was a valid reason for the leftover fat on his arms to start deteriorating quickly, even though he was naturally the perfect body type any dude could hope for. 

This Friday night was a little different, no one additional was at the dining table, no Suna and no Omi, just my family- like how it used to be. Omi had started to come less and less since that one incident that started this whole hate relationship between me and Osamu, and Suna had a 'family meeting' he had to attend too- although I think he didn't want to come because he couldn't bare to see Osamu in his worsened state. We all sat at the table, somewhat peacefully, until midway through our peaceful dinner, I saw what would later turn into something that would change my life- for worse.

I noticed the barely healing wounds on his arm. The ones he was desperately trying to cover up with one of Suna's oversized thrift jumpers. 

I physically felt my heart stop and restart in the span of a millisecond, it was then that I started to understand that karma had come back to bite me in the ass- and it was just about to get a hell of a lot worse.

I went to my room after finishing my food, no one thought anything of it as it was a usual thing for me to do, and all I could think about were those seeping scars on ruined wrists- well, that was until I eventually got up to do something about it, or more like, talk to him about it.

I start to nervously make my way to his bedroom door, as a feeling overwhelms my legs making them become almost numb, as well as taking control of my body, making me feel like I'm going to topple over any minute. Oh, a familiar feeling it was, and that so-called familiar feeling was: fear. The fear that made me make that promise to Osamu when we were young as hell after I protected him from people who had the same personality as a thorn bush, and the fear that followed those years since I made that promise, that had been building up, made me despise him more than I would despise a murderer after killing their entire family.

I knock on the door, waiting eagerly for a response. Hoping- no, praying, it was all just a misunderstanding.

"Osamu?"