Chapter Text
Being the firstborn didn’t mean you were loved first; it meant you were the first to be tested.
The first student.
First prototype, with every mistake drawn out and analysed for peer review.
Every action, word, or choice Gakushuu made had a consequence for not just himself, but his little brother and twin sister.
He’d known that since he was five and his father’s hand had felt too tight on his shoulder, and now he was ten and already knew his place in this world.
He was a leader, and leading his siblings was a prelude. He was ten years old now –practically fully grown mentally in his eyes –He’d be entering his final year of elementary school next year. This next year was critical.
He just wished they weren’t so…themselves.
“Why are you braiding his hair?” Gakushuu walked in on Mitsuko braiding Karma’s hair on her vanity chair near the large fish tank in the room.
Mitsuko shrugged, coiling the red strands of their youngest sibling’s hair with soft fingers. “He asked nicely.”
Karma gave him a sharp grin through the mirror. “Yeah, I said please and everything.”
“That hairstyle isn’t suitable,” Gakushuu said crisply.
“Your attitude isn’t suitable,” Karma shot back.
Gakushuu’s eye twitched. “You’re both supposed to be studying.”
“And you’re supposed to leave us alone, so why don’t you?” Karma shot back.
“Yeah, we’re going to study, later.” Mitsuko didn’t even look at him, using a comb to part Karma’s hair on the side. “Dad’s not back until late anyway.”
“That’s not the point—”
“If you’re gonna be boring, just leave,” Karma said, kicking his feet. “You’re being lame.”
Why did they have to be so—no, it was fine, he could manage this. He was in charge. He had to tow the line.
“Just because the Principal isn’t here, doesn’t mean we can just slack off – he’ll know.” He always did, no matter how well they thought they hid it.
Mitsuko’s fingers stilled briefly in Karma’s hair before she took a deep breath. “It’s fine, we’ll be finished before he gets back.” She tied off the braid with a clip.
He looked ridiculous, like a stupid imitation of those idols on cheap TV networks.
“Cool!” Karma seemed delighted by it, though. “Thanks, Mitsu-nee.”
“You look stupid,” Gakushuu snapped, overshadowing him. “Take it out.”
Karma’s face scrunched up, petulant. Immature. “No, it looks cool.”
Gakushuu’s jaw clenched, reaching to yank the stupid braid out. “I said, take it out—”
His twin grabbed his wrist. Touch gentle but firm. “Gakushuu, leave him alone.” She frowned at him. “We’re just having some fun.” Then she smiled as sweet as sugar, curling her arm around his so they were linked. “Lighten up a little, okay?”
His lips thinned, shoulders still tense like a coil, but he didn’t rip his arm from hers. “You shouldn’t be encouraging him,” he scolded lowly, while Karma grinned at his reflection. “He’s already weird enough…”
“He’s nine.” Mitsuko’s lips pursed, pinching his arm. “Don’t be a jerk.”
Gakushuu shot her a glare. “Ow!” He yanked his arm free, rubbing the bruise; it was like a tiny pincer. “Fine, play dolls and dress up then. Waste all the time you want,” he snapped, stepping back while Karma stuck out his tongue. “I don’t care.”
No one except his family could quite get under his skin like the way they did.
Mitsuko frowned. “Gaku-nii, don’t be like that—”
“I’m busy.” His reply was dismissive as he slammed the door behind him.
Despite popular belief, Gakushuu didn’t exactly hate Karma; he just wished his little brother was less…himself.
“Put the spice down.” He didn’t even have to look up from where he was reading on the sofa to know Karma was trying to slip a red chilli into the pot of tea Mitsuko had brewed.
“…Don’t know watcha talkin’ about.” Karma had the gall to sound innocent – that stupid braid still in his hair.
Gakushuu scowled, looking over his shoulder to find the red head standing casually by the pot. “Go finish your homework – he’ll be home soon.”
Karma rolled his eyes. “I already finished.” He wandered over to the kitchen table. “I’m bored.”
Then do something useful!
Gakushuu gripped his book briefly, but then took a deep breath.
He shouldn’t lose his temper easily. Karma was still younger; he had to set an example for him.
“Then why don’t we play chess?”
Karma scowled, slouching in his seat. “Why? You always win anyway.”
Then maybe try harder!
Gakushuu took another measured breath. Silencing those thoughts. “Well, why don’t you help Mitsuko finish cleaning he fish tank?”
Another wrinkle of the nose. “Nah, it stinks.” Karma sighed, slithering onto the floor like a worm. “I wanna arm wrestle.”
“We’re not arm wrestling.” Gakushuu tried to ignore him and read his book.
“You know you’ll lose,” Karma teased.
“With wimpy arms, no way.”
“They’re not wimpy!”
“Hey!” Their mom’s voice rang from the hallway where they knew she was still working in her office. “No yelling! Mommy’s still working!”
“But, you’re yelling!” Karma yelled back.
“Stop shouting,” Gakushuu scolded.
“I WASN’T SHOUTING!” Karma shouted back.
“WHY IS EVERYONE YELLING?” Mitsuko shouted from upstairs. “YOU’RE SCARING THE FISH!”
“I WASN’T YELLING!” Karma screamed.
Gakushuu covered his ears. “Stop screaming, you idiot!”
“Don’t call me an idiot!” Karma snapped.
“Then stop being one!”
“Boys, don’t make me come in there!” Kairi yelled.
“WILL EVERYONE SHUT UP!” Mitsuko shouted from upstairs.
“Will, everyone, please use their inside voices.” Their father’s voice cut through the noise without even raising a fraction.
Gakushuu tensed and quickly stood to attention while Karma scrambled to his feet.
“Mitsuko, come here,” Gakuhou called their sister down.
He listened carefully as he heard the Principal remove his shoes, movements unhurried, which was good, it meant that he was probably in a good mood.
But, he wouldn’t stay that way if he saw Karma’s braid.
Gakushuu grabbed his brother’s wrist and yanked him close. “Stay still.”
“Hey!” Karma squirmed, trying to yank his arm free. “Get off.”
“Hold still, idiot.” Gakushuu’s grip was hard enough to bruise, trying to untangle the braid.
Footsteps rattled down the stairs. “Yes, Dad?” Mitsuko’s voice was small.
“What have I said about hockey sticks in the hallway?”
“I—I was going to move it—”
“I didn’t ask for excuses.”
Gakushuu was half-listening, tugging on the braid out in his brother’s hair, trying to pull it out. “I said, hold still.”
He’d almost got it, undoing the clip, pulling at the strands until little hairs fell out – he may have tugged too hard on the roots and hurt his brother’s scalp.
Karma growled and hit him. “Leave me alone!” He shoved into him hard, knocking him back into the sofa.
Gakushuu winced when he hit the sofa too hard, catching himself on the cushion.
“Boys?” Gakuhou’s voice sharpened like a knife on stone.
He grimaced and quickly straightened up. “It’s nothing!” He grabbed Karma’s arm, dragging him to his side to check the braid was gone, and was relieved to see his brother’s hair smoothed out, unparted.
Their father stepped into the room and cast a large shadow. “If it’s nothing, then why are you yelling?” He handed his briefcase to Mitsuko, who stumbled back a bit when it was practically shoved into her arms. “And grabbing your brother?”
“I didn’t even do anything.” Karma squirmed until Gakushuu let go.
Gakushuu’s shirt collar burned under his father’s scrutiny like a flame too hot near the skin. “I…was just making sure he was tidy before dinner.”
His father’s gaze lingered on him like a pin in a board, until it shifted back to his sister, his hand briefly stroking over her head in a mimic of affection that she leaned into. “Mitsuko, be a dear now and put that in my office and then go ask your mother if she’ll be joining us for dinner.”
“Yes, Dad…” Mitsuko murmured, practically shrinking under his shadow.
It made Gakushuu's gut twist, so he looked away.
Gakuhou turned to Karma. “Karma, have you finished your worksheets?”
“Yes…”
“Then bring them down for review.” Gakuhou was fully in the room now, advancing almost, and when Karma didn’t move straight away, he added a stern look. “Now.”
Karma scowled, lips sealed tight as for once he didn’t have a comeback. “Fine,” he grumbled, chin low to his chest as he ran off, at least smart enough to know when his battles were lost.
Now it was just Gakushuu left, a final evaluation.
He stood up straighter and kept his face calm. Not too calm to give off disinterest, but just the right amount to let his father know that he was level-headed, setting an example.
His father stopped in front of him, tall enough that he still had to crane his neck to look up at him; he counted down the days until they stood equal in height.
Gakuhou’s gaze swept over him briefly and almost dismissively, but lingered for a second. “…Your sister left her hockey sticks in the hallway again.”
Oh, right, yes, it should have been his job to remind her.
His sister’s faults were his faults too.
Either way, unlike his siblings, he knew better than to give excuses.
“I’ll make sure she doesn’t do it again,” he replied, gaze low, head tilted down. Respectful. Voice even, face blank. Mature like an eldest son should be. Perfect.
Gakuhou regarded him for a moment, gaze making the boy’s skin prickle, until hummed, satisfied. “See that it doesn’t.” His hand briefly passed over Gakushuu’s shoulder, squeezing once. Approval. “Come help me make dinner.”
His siblings hadn’t been asked to help make dinner.
A small smile threatened to find its way onto Gakushuu’s face, but he quickly hid it. “Yes, sir.”
Stay composed. Don’t get overexcited like Karma, or overeager like Mitsuko. You have to set an example.
Gakushuu followed his father into the kitchen to help with dinner, already considering this a victory on its own.