[Yoshio sees it only a little later Sunday evening. He's in bed long before Mako, even before it gets dark, exhausted from both swim practice that he dragged himself through and one of many waves of tiny, piercing headaches. His phone buzzes and he opens his eyes, then closes the sensitive right one and reads his too-bright phone screen with only one eye.
"You're still my little brother."
He can't be certain of that anymore. Something sad grips his heart hard, and Yoshio sighs, turning his face down to press against the pillow. Mako is his brother. He feels like that's for sure. But somehow he's less sure that he's the brother Mako raised anymore.
Rolling onto his back, Yoshio turns the screen brightness down, so he can open both eyes again, then taps out a short message.]
I know. You're my brother, too.
[He submits it, then sighs and adds something: a quiet admittance.]
oh noooo
"You're still my little brother."
He can't be certain of that anymore. Something sad grips his heart hard, and Yoshio sighs, turning his face down to press against the pillow. Mako is his brother. He feels like that's for sure. But somehow he's less sure that he's the brother Mako raised anymore.
Rolling onto his back, Yoshio turns the screen brightness down, so he can open both eyes again, then taps out a short message.]
I know. You're my brother, too.
[He submits it, then sighs and adds something: a quiet admittance.]
I don't want to be someone else.