We had just finished dinner and stayed seated at the table as our parents prepared to go over our report cards. Maybe if I were still a kid, I'd be anxious, but this was just another day for me now. Success was guaranteed.
I glanced to the side. Even though dinner had finished, Big Brother remained at the table with us. It'd been a long time—a couple of years maybe—since he stayed past the end of a meal.
I couldn't help but giggle, though I was sure no one heard. I hadn't really realized it until now, but I think I missed having him next to me like this.
Big Brother, who had been scrolling on his phone, stopped for only half a second before going on as if nothing happened.
"Okay then, let's start with this one, shall we?"
A graceful voice cut through the room, forcibly pulling my attention.
Mom silently opened the envelope, pulled the report card out, and placed it on the table.
"Hmm, it looks like this one is Hoshino's," she said, her fingers tracing the edges of the sheet.
Dad's eyes moved through the pages as he studied them. Then, they stopped, a quiet "Wow" slipping out as he struggled to hide his shock.
He lifted his head toward Big Brother with a childish smile. Yet in the depths of his black eyes... was a glint of something almost tender—something I'd never seen from him before.
He took a deep, shuddering breath, then spoke in a calm, even tone. "I thought your last report was good… but you've really outdone yourself, Son."
Mom cleared her throat, seamlessly pulling the attention back to her. "100% in every subject except for social studies. But even then, you got a 99%."
She lightly clapped her hands together, her angelic smile beaming.
"This is wonderful, Son! I'm so proud of you!"
Mom's words of praise echoed off the walls until they fizzled out into stale silence. Only the sound of Big Brother's thumb tapping against his screen could be heard.
Dad let out an awkward chuckle as he grabbed the second envelope.
"Hahaha… well, let's move on to this one."
He ripped open the envelope and shook the report card free, causing the pages to scatter across the table.
Mom let out a soft sigh as she leaned forward and neatly arranged each page.
Dad scratched the back of his head sheepishly.
"Hahaha, Sorry about that. I think I went too hard."
"No, it's okay. It's my fault for getting sidetracked," Mom replied gracefully. "Anyway, let's look at Lily's report card."
I inched to the edge of my seat, my eyes fixed as I studied every inch of it. Then I let out a relieved breath.
Thank goodness…
90% in Math. 93% in Science. 95% in Language. 88% in Geography. 84% in Social Studies. 94% in History. My worst grade was a 72% in Physical Education, but my parents had always been lenient with me there.
I glanced toward our parents, waiting for my praise. Luckily, I didn't have to wait too long.
"That's my lovely Daughter! Good job, Lily!" Dad cried. He didn't even react this way for Big Brother, who scored better than me.
A wide grin stretched across my face, crinkling the corners of my eyes.
"Thank you, Dad! I tried really hard!"
Back then, even when I did well, Dad wouldn't react that much. He'd give me a small nod, and that was it. But over the years, his reactions had grown more and more affectionate. Maybe it was because he was finally growing proud of me. The mere thought of it made my cheeks burn with warmth.
I'm going to keep making you proud, Dad!
Then, I turned to Mom. She always gave me praise, so I wasn't too worried about it. Still, that didn't mean I wasn't itching to hear it.
Eventually, Mom turned to me… and gave me a small nod.
"You did well, Lily. Good job."
I continued waiting, my heart racing, but there was no follow-up.
Instead, Mom gathered all the pages and put them back into the envelope. She kept my envelope sitting on the table while she carried Big Brother's to her purse.
…What?
Was that it? Was that all Mom had to say? No, that couldn't be. Mom always praised me wholeheartedly, even taking the family out to dinner to celebrate my success. This happened every year without fail.
And yet, a chill clawed at my chest.
No… There has to be something else! There has to be–
Dad stood up and walked over to me. He gently placed his hand on my shoulder as he asked both Big Brother and me, "So, do you two want anything? Maybe go out to dinner or–"
Big Brother stood up, his chair scraping against the hardwood.
"No thanks." His gaze hadn't left his phone even as he replied.
With silent steps, he climbed the stairs and into his room. Dad watched as he left with a strained smile.
I continued to gaze at Dad, but he never turned my way. Even though Big Brother had paid him no mind, Dad couldn't pull his eyes from the stairs.
It was like...
I was nothing more than an afterthought.
Why… is it all about him?
I dug my nails into my thigh, the pain fanning the burning rage in the pits of my stomach.
I'm right here, too! I'm your kid, too! So why… why are they only paying attention to him?!
Big Brother's shadow, which stretched down the stairs, seemed to etch itself into my eyes.
Even as I turned away, I could still feel it looming at the corners of my vision.
Once Big Brother was finally gone, Dad turned back to me.
We picked up the conversation from a few seconds prior, but everything we said went in one ear and out the other.
Before I even realized it, I was walking up the stairs as well—but my mind was elsewhere.
I-I have to study harder!
I'm going to get 100s next year! I'm… going to be just like Big Brother!
I'm…
Everything went black.
Going to make my parents proud of me again!
***
*Swish*
Mom set my sixth-grade report card on the table. She had always set it down noiselessly, but this time—there was a single crinkle.
Mom parted her lips and spoke slowly. "Math: 70%. Language: 74%. Science: 79%. Physical Education: 62%. Social Studies: 67%."
Mom leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. She moved with a lack of... anything. No disappointment, no anger. It was almost like she didn't care at all.
That should have been a good thing—yet the shame on my shoulders only grew heavier.
"Do you have anything to say for yourself, Lily?" she asked.
I flinched and hung my head, avoiding her and Dad's gaze.
I couldn't help but glance to the side—to where Big Brother used to sit—but I quickly averted my gaze. Even so, his seat remained in my peripheral vision.
The seat was empty; it had been empty for the last couple of months—but that wasn't what bothered me.
I clutched the hem of my shirt.
Why the hell am I seeking help from him? It's his fault this is happening to me!
Mom kept talking, but her words were drowned out by the cries in my own head.
I worked so hard!
I studied for hours every day!
I took notes in class!
I even asked for help from the teacher!
So why…
Through the gaps in my hair, I stared at the pathetic state of my grades laid out on the table.
I clenched my teeth, my jaw straining.
Why did it turn out like this?!
Without saying anything else, Mom gathered the pages and slid them back into the envelope, while Dad offered me a small smile before rising from his seat and climbing the stairs.
…What?
Mom followed, leaving me all alone at the dining table.
Why… are they walking away?
Aren't they going to yell at me?
Shame me?
Hurt me the way they hurt Big Brother all those years ago?
A hard, burning pressure rose against my throat. No matter what I did, it wouldn't go down.
I squeezed my eyes shut, the pressure straining my eyelids, muddying my sense of direction—but not my thoughts.
Do they… really not care about me that much?
Is all that matters to them… Big Brother?
Does anyone care about anything but Big Brother?!
Voices echoed out of the darkness and closed in all around me. Voices of friends, of teachers, of parents… and of myself.
It's… all his fault!
If only he hadn't become smart for some reason!
If only he stayed dumb!
I wouldn't be like this!
This is all his fault!
I squeezed my eyes even tighter.
I hate–
"Hey."
Suddenly, a warm, caring voice broke through my thoughts. I jolted and hurriedly opened my eyes, the world coming into focus.
The dining room was now drowned in darkness, with the only source of light from the screen of someone's phone as it shone onto me.
And the person holding it... was my Big Brother,
Why… is he here?
Are you here to make fun of me?
To look down on me?
Just go away!
I scowled and opened my mouth, but the burning lump in my throat caught the words. All that came out was a pathetic wheeze.
Big Brother took a deep breath before gently resting his hand on my shoulder and crouched down.
He looked me in the eyes without turning away. I did too.
Then... he gave me a loving, radiant smile. The same one he always showed me when we were kids. The same one he always had when we were together. Even after all this time, it hadn't left. And I knew why.
The burning lump in my throat vanished, as if it had never been there.
"C'mon, lil sis, it's late," he said, grabbing my hand. "Let's go to bed, okay? Staying up late won't do you any good."
All I could do was give him an absent nod. He let out a small breath, then stood up and gently led me up the stairs.
The darkness of the room, the weight of my shame, even my own steps, they all faded. All I could think about… was him.
Ah.
That was when it hit me. And when it did, all feeling drained from me.
I can't do it.
I can't hate him.
How could I hate him?
Well, all of it except—
Even if it's his fault—
Even if everyone will always see me as just another him—
I can't hate him.
Because…
The warmth of his hand.
I'm his little sister.