Bold and Brilliant

¥-One-€

Tokyo, Japan, 1989
Small grunts leaped from his mouth as he adjusted himself against the floorboards. His hands curled together, as he tried to contain his excitement. His calm posture of sitting on the floor burst into Okuyasu dancing about, occasionally leaping, pushing off the floorboards with his small little toes. The TV in front of him blabbered whimsical sentences that would lure in any 6-year-old. The scene in the TV was decorated in bright pastel colors, that put a sweet taste into Okuyasu's mouth. The window was open, the silken white curtains fluttering, dancing gently with the wind.
"Welcome back, girls and boys to, Shloopie's Silly Town!" The TV rejoiced, its voice ringing through the whole house.
Okuyasu clapped his hands and grinned, finally calming down, and crossing his legs back together on the floor.
"Where are we going today, boys and girls?!" The TV asked. Okuyasu giggled and answered in an excited manner, not realizing the rhetorical question, and that the show had already had its script written.
"Shloopie's Sweet Bakery!"
The floorboards creaked behind Okuyasu, and he spun around, his heart pumping with adrenaline. He stuttered against his words, but sighed in sweet relief.
A boy of an older build stood behind him. His hair sagged from its hairdo, sliding down to his neck instead of sticking up.
Angry gray bags sat under his eyes, and he looked pale.
"Okuyasu, you're gonna wake up dad, he finally went down for a nap," the boy sighed, walking past the little boy, and reaching for the volume knob on the TV. Mr.Shloopie's voice faded away, as the boy strode back to Okuyasu and took a seat on the floor next to him.
"Sorry, Keicho..." Okuyasu pouted, folding his arms across one another.
"Don't look at me like that Oku," Keicho sighed, lifting Okuyasu's chin up with a finger.
"Dad'll be angry if you wake him up...he's been awfully weird recently."
Okuyasu nibbled on his lip and crawled closer to Keicho, so their knees could touch.
"Daddy's been acting scary...he's like evil Mr.Crunch, on the TV."
Okuyasu pointed a chubby finger toward the TV, a colorful and cackling villan depicted on the screen.
Keicho sighed and straightened his posture.
"Okuyasu you're six now...you know that kind of cartoony stuff isn't real..."
Okuyasu frowned. "Are you trying to be a big adult or somethin'?" he pouted, getting onto his feet and walking toward the TV. He switched the TV off, and Shloopie and all his friends on the screen went black.
Keicho watched as Okuyasu scampered back to his brother, and plopped onto the floor.
"I just...want you to stay on your toes. You know things are complicated now, ever since mom died."
"What does that have to do with me watching the TV?" Okuyasu asked, scratching gently at a scab on his knee.
"That show is for babies Oku," Keicho said in a hushed tone. Okuyasu scowled in disagreement and balled his fists. "Shloopie isn't for babies! I'm not a baby!" He exclaimed. Keicho's eyes widened and he put his finger to his mouth and violently shushed him.
Okuyasu froze, and tightened his body. "I-is daddy gonna hit me again?" Okuyasu stuttered, tears starting to form in his eyes. Violent images flashed through his head. Angry insults, bloody knuckles. Okuyasu's screams, pitiful whimpers exploding from his freshly cut wounds.
Keicho solemnly looked at his little brother, and slowly pulled him into his lap.
"No Okuyasu, no dad's not gonna hit you, not while I'm here."
Okuyasu gazed up at Keicho, and slowly nodded. His eyes screamed a lonely call for help. A call for help from all the times their dad hit him while Keicho was away at school. For all the times Okuyasu was left to bleed on the floor, and for Keicho to try his best to clean the blood from his clothes and calm the traumatized child down.
Keicho forced a gentle smile on his dry and cracked lips, as he gently poked his nose. Okuyasu cringed, but returned the smile.
"Okay Keicho..." he whispered. And with that, Okuyasu slowly wriggled out of Keicho's lap, and got onto his feet. He slowly walked toward the living room's back door, and stood on the balls of his toes, grasping the door handle, and pushing it open. Okuyasu turned toward Keicho and grinned.
Keicho returned the grin, and got to his feet. "Yeah, I wanna play outside too..."
The two brothers exited the living room, and climbed through the door. Glassy beams of sunlight raced into Okuyasu's face, and bounced off his messy charcoal black hair. He squinted, and wobbled around, searching for his brother's hand. He clasped Keicho's hand, as the two walked barefoot on the blankets of grass. Keicho glanced around and laid his eyes upon the prize he was in search of. A worn out lemon-colored rubber ball sat against the fence, gleaming its surface modestly off of the sunlight. Keicho raced toward the ball and scooped it up, cradling it in his left arm. He turned his attention toward his brother, who had sat himself down next to an ant hill, bulging nastily from the lawn.
"Oku! Do you wanna play catch?" Keicho called out.
Okuyasu didn't move, his eyes fixated on the line of ants skippering from out of the hole.
Keicho frowned, and threw the ball to the ground, only for it to come back up into his hands.
Slightly bummed, Keicho grasped the ball and threw it high into the air with all his might. The attention-span of his 8-year-old mind proved that 5 minutes of repeating this process, would lead to him being bored of the little game.
Huffing in defeat, Keicho laid the ball down in the grass, and walked toward his brother, who still laid peacefully in the grass, watching the ants carefully. Keicho plopped down next to Okuyasu.
"What's so interesting about ants?" Keicho pouted, wishing he'd come play with him instead. Okuyasu may have been irritating to look after day and night, but in the end, they only really had one another
School was his escape from bloody wounds and wafts of alcoholism, but it didn't get any better. He's was his own friend, his own mentor, and his own source of entertainment. Kids had habits of staring at the ugly scars on his arms, and the scratches on his cheeks.
He'd lament his evidence of abuse to his peers, calling for help, but even the teachers would brush these remarks away. He was the school's street rat, bringing bruises and burns to show and tell, and broken pencils with messy papers. He was nothing more than the kid who should be dead in an alley way; the teachers tend to mention this up behind his back, as cruel as it was.
So, he naturally had only Okuyasu to turn to. His little brother wasn't the smartest, or most interesting person on the planet, but it was almost like Okuyasu could protect him, even if Keicho was the one who defended him from their father. The sloppy kisses and loving hugs from Okuyasu gave Keicho his hope, and his light. He could be different than his disgusting and greedy father.
Keicho dug his hands into the soft Earth, and felt the dampness of the dirt tingle against his skin. He joined Okuyasu's ever so interesting staring contest against the ants, as they scampered about, crumbs of food propped against their feet as they carried them back into the nest.
He blinked. But then he stared in awe. There were three ants just now...
He blinked once again. He wasn't wrong. The third ant was just gone. It felt almost as if it just warped from existence. He looked over at Okuyasu. He stared at the same place Keicho did, and he looked more shocked than Keicho, as if he had committed a horrible crime.
"Hey bro-" Keicho began. He stopped himself. He shouldn't add fuel to the fire of some nonsensical fantasy. He simply must have hallucinated.
Un-earthing his hands from the ground, he brushed the dirt from his hands onto his ripped jeans.
Dirt caked his nails, and covered blisters and calluses as modestly as it could.
Keicho clenched his fist, and laid back, his head resting against the ground, and the grass tickling his ears and neck.
"K-Keicho..." Okuyasu stuttered. "Keicho I think there's something wrong with me-"
Keicho closed his eyes. "Not now lil' bro.." he sighed, shifting against the grasses, getting as comfortable as he could.
He heard Okuyasu shift his weight, and lie against him. His head rested on top of Keicho chest, his hands curled up next to him.
"Okay Keicho..." Okuyasu whispered, nuzzling his head against the cloth of Keicho's shirt.
Silence. Sweet symphonic silence.
The occasional breaths Okuyasu took as he fell in and out of sleep, the cloudless sky, the warm sun, the melancholy songs of a nearby bird. He wished he could pause moments like these. Just him and his little brother. No dad, no school, no memories of their mother's last breath and limp hand held in Keicho's hand.
Yeah, this felt right.

-—–—
Author's note:
Ahoy mates, I'm the author of this notorious book. Prepare for some serious fluff in the next parts, because brotherly love is the best thing in the world (@_@)
Anyways, I'm here to talk about how often I'm going to publish. If you read my fan fiction "Porcelain Face" you've already been informed that I in fact am taking a brief hiatus. This is the benefit for my mental health, I'm struggling with really bad depression and I need to take care of it. I'm also gonna be in Germany in the next two weeks for an orchestra group performance we'll be doing in Munich.
So be patient, I'll throw out some chapters once a month and I'll write any chance I get, but I'm gonna be a tad busy.
So be patient for me, and I'll be back soon
-Jameson