I Am the Hero's Immature Younger Brother

“Ah......”

A sigh slipped from Ren’s mouth as he looked at the music box.

He had been on his way back after Riperoman’s comfort had helped him soothe himself into thinking he was fine.

He had thought today had been the worst too, that they had grown distant like this without even time to say goodbye.

Ren did not want to lay any kind of burden on his brother when Temar was already worried about him.

He had done well. It would have been a lie to say he had not been hurt when Temar had been dragged out immediately, without even time for a farewell.

He hated and felt ashamed of his own selfishness, that he was worrying only about his own brother going to war while feeling no concern at all over the news that someone else had been gravely injured.

But he had pressed all those emotions down, over and over, and had been on his way back while steadying his heart with Riperoman’s comfort and advice.

It was a good thing, in its own way. It was something that had to happen eventually anyway. And it was not something Ren could control.

But after such an exhausting day, in the room he had entered alone.

Why, of all things, did that music box have to catch his eye?

Was that why the king had given him a gift? Because he felt sorry for sending Ren’s brother to the battlefield?

‘There’s no way he didn’t know. So that was just... It just meant I should stay quiet.’

After standing there blankly, staring at the music box, Ren strode across the room.

The music box sat on the table in front of the rocking chair.

Music that moved the heart, warm light, and the snow falling beneath it.

The white snow crystals glittered and shone, as if telling him to look at something this beautiful.

He could not stand the sight of it.

The little statue of the brothers clinging together, the snow falling below them. The beautiful song that had nothing to do with a battlefield. All of it seemed to be mocking Ren.

Of course.

Snow was not beautiful at all.

Nothing but terrible things happened on snowy days.

Ren slowly took hold of the music box and lifted it above his head.

Bang--!!

Then he hurled it down at the floor with all his strength.

Even though Ren had thrown it as hard as he could, the music box did not break.

“......”

He picked it up again and slammed it against the floor over and over, but all he did was wound his own innocent hands. The music box remained intact.

Blood seeping from his fingertips smeared across the surface of the music box. At a glance, it looked as though the statue of his brother was shedding tears, the fallen drops of blood trailing down in long lines.

What am I doing, like an idiot?

The long light from the hallway seemed to invade the room, and then Veron’s voice sounded.

“Ren. What in the world happened here?”

The old man, carrying luggage as though he had been out in the city, hurried over. He tried to force the music box from Ren’s tight grip, then gave up and pulled Ren, who had collapsed onto the floor, into his arms.

“What happened? Who hurt you?”

“Old man.”

Ren lifted his head.

“I really do hate snow.”

Those black eyes grew wet with sorrow at Ren’s hollow voice.

“It’s the worst.”

To think he had been happy receiving something like this.

“My brother is leaving for the campaign tomorrow. I knew it would happen someday, but... It must mean I’m supposed to stay quiet.”

It means I shouldn’t say anything, anything at all...... And I was stupid enough to be happy after getting a gift like that.

His flat voice grew smaller and smaller, then faintly broke off.

Maybe all of this was only an excuse.

It did not matter what meaning the king’s gift had, or what that music box was.

His grief had simply burst open once more. The snow had merely been the trigger.

Veron’s gaze settled indifferently on the music box.

Suddenly, there came the sound of wind. The window was shut tight, with no gap for wind to enter. Yet a cool breeze ruffled Ren’s hair. Ren lifted his dazed eyes and looked at Veron.

A black light gathered at the tips of his fingers and, in an instant, seeped into the music box.

“......!”

Ren followed that light with wide eyes. In his damp eyes, wet with tears...... stars were reflected. The light sank into the music box as if melting into it, devoured the yellow glow, and turned it into a dark night. Soon, the black light swallowed even all the falling snow. The snow that had been drifting down in specks trapped its crystals in white light and rose into the sky......

And became stars.

The snowy landscape that had made Ren even sadder had changed into a night sky studded with glittering starlight.

“Magic......?”

An awed voice escaped him. The old apothecary’s eyes curved slightly.

“Shall I show you a few more?”

The old man asked, looking at Ren as he dazedly asked back. Ren slowly nodded. The stars made by magic were reflected in his wet eyes.

“......It’s beautiful.”

When the old man moved his fingers, the stars inside the music box began moving as they circled through the sky. They formed constellations, and some fell, drawing streaks of light behind them. As Ren watched the palm-sized night sky held inside the music box, watched the shooting stars falling between the densely shining stars, he made a wish.

Then Ren suddenly lifted his head and looked up at the old man. Looking into those deep eyes tinged with blue, Ren asked,

“Those stars are stars too, so will they grant wishes?”

“Would they not at least try?”

The old man’s eyes, which had seemed to sink for a moment, shone clearly. Watching the pupils in those glossy, black-stone eyes narrow and widen, Ren’s expression blurred as if he had been reassured.

“Old man. But why are you only showing me such an amazing ability now? That’s unfair!”

Ren grumbled, though he still muttered that it was really cool, that it was wonderful.

Holding that thin body as it clung to him, the old man stroked Ren’s back as if comforting him.

In the room darker than the outside, in the room where even the music box’s light had gone out, black lights rose and vanished.

“Who is it?”

At the sound of knocking, Veron asked from in front of the door.

He had only just managed to move Ren, who had cried himself to sleep from exhaustion, onto the bed. He did not want to wake the boy.

“It’s Luman, sir.”

A hoarse, sleep-rough voice sounded from outside the door.

“Has Ren fallen asleep?”

“It is long past time for a child to be asleep.”

The aged voice hinted that he should not wake the boy. Outside the door, there came the sound of someone pacing as if about to leave. The footsteps slowly moved away one by one as if in hesitation, then eventually stopped in place and did not move for a long while before returning.

“I’m sorry, sir. Could you wake Ren for me? I have...... something to say to him.”

“Is it something Ren needs, or something you need?”

“......It is something I need. But if I leave without a word, Ren will be sad too. So please......”

“If he does not wake after I call him twice, go back.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you.”

Veron slowly moved his feet.

Approaching the bed, Veron looked down at Ren. His sparse white hair fell like a curtain over his face. Reaching out, Veron stroked Ren’s white forehead a couple of times, then spoke in his old, softened voice.

“Ren.”

“......”

“Child. Someone called Luman has come to see you.”

Ren did not even talk in his sleep. His chest only rose and fell quietly.

Veron turned away without hesitation.

“You should go back now.”

“Just once more...... No.”

A fading voice rang out with desperation, then disappeared.

Veron turned his head.

“Ren.”

He knew Ren was not asleep. He had thought the boy would let him go like that, but Ren rustled and sat up.

As he tried to slip his feet into his shoes, Ren bit his lip hard. Watching Ren fumble in his hurry, Veron opened his mouth.

“You do not have to rush.”

Ren lifted his head and looked at Veron.

Veron said nothing more than that. He merely draped a cloak over Ren’s shoulders. Ren hurried out of the room. He was afraid Luman might disappear in the meantime. His heart quickly began racing, and the moment he spotted Luman, it dropped with a bang.

Luman, who had been quietly looking down at the floor, turned his head.

Between the tangled threads of his platinum hair, Ren could see his clear golden eyes.

Those eyes, which had been dim and submerged, took Ren in and slowly cleared. His trembling eyelashes, the faint smile rising on his lips—Luman bit it away, then gave his usual light smile.

“Ren.”

Luman’s voice echoed low in the hallway.

Ren ran straight to him. Luman flinched and started to approach Ren, then stopped, knelt down on the floor, and before he knew it, opened his arms.

“Gah!”

The idea that Ren would slip neatly into his embrace and let himself be hugged had been Luman’s sweet delusion.

Ren sharply pinched Luman’s arm.

At the stinging sensation, Luman let out a cry. Ren stood in front of him, fuming.

“Ren, did you cry?”

Luman reached out and brought his hand close to Ren’s cheek, but he could not bring himself to touch him, and his hand fell away. Angered by that careful hand groping through empty air, Ren grabbed his wrist and pressed it against his own cheek. Whatever was going on with Luman, who flinched in surprise and went rigid, was none of Ren’s concern.

“It’s not the first time you’ve seen me cry.”

His voice came out cold.

Luman’s face helplessly clouded over. The light smile he had forced onto his face disappeared, and worry rose in its place. Moving the hand Ren had put there as if awkwardly, Luman brushed Ren’s cheek with his thumb, stroking carefully as though tracing the traces of tears.