By Ran Mouri.
It seemed surreal, at first. Maybe even magic.
All his life, Ayame Kiriyama was treated as an outcast, a misfit in his military family. He was the weakest of two brothers, always sick and in need of protection. His older brother Ando was always there for him, no doubt about it.
How he loved Ando dearly, he was his own personal hero.
His big brother for three years was the epitome of perfection, strong, tall, masculine, the kind of young man all women wanted by their side, and young men wanted as friend.
Ayame himself?
He was the total opposite. Small, scrawny, his eyes were too big, his hair too reddish, by all means he looked like a little girl…
And he hated it.
Ayame's and Ando's father was a former colonel, the most honored of his generation. And of course his sons, for he fortunately had no daughters, had to be as perfect as he was, completely devoted to defend their country as he himself had done decades ago.
Ando was perfect for that job, he learnt fast, and seemed entranced by the guns his father so lovingly kept in their house. Ayame on the other hand was scared of the hungry look his family had when speaking about war on the dinner table, or the way his father's hands twisted when he was angry, like trying to break the imaginative neck of some poor victim long past.
So he spend his time hiding in his brother's room, day dreaming about a future away from the Kiriyama household where he would one day be free to pursue his dream, for he wanted to be a painter, and express through the canvas the wonders that life had to offer, even the horrors he had one seen.
The boy's dream started the day a general from the military force came to his house, he spent hours talking with his father in his personal room, one that from day one, both brothers knew was forbidden for them, and sometimes they would laugh and drink, patting each other's backs as if their words were to be recognized. Five year old Ayame couldn't understand.
The general then went to chat with his mother, praising her house and the way she had so lovingly raised her sons, even daring to comment that both would one day be perfect for the military.
Ayame idly remembered his brother trembling.
Then, the man took a long picture, a present for the house. It was grey and had a lot of funny, deformed people in it, there was a cow too, for what he could tell.
At first he thought it was funny, squirming people that looked like doodles, most likely a drawing from a child his age.
But then his eyes landed on a man in the picture, as deformed and weird as the rest, but he had his arms raised to heaven, and his face…
The boy would forever remember that doodled face scrunched in agony. His mismatched eyes full of despair and horror, as if asking god what had they done to deserve such a terrible fate.
After realizing that drawing, Ayame could see the whole picture for what it was…
It was a war…
The funny people were dead people on the streets, the weird lady he had first seen was in fact a mother, holding her baby to herself.
He felt like crying.
Later on, when he was older, he would learn that a Spanish painter did that picture to remember the world of the attack on a Spanish city during the war. For years many would see the doodles, Ayame was sure, but some people, like him, would see the corpses and cry.
That day, he felt he wanted to paint, even though his drawings weren't as pretty as the ones he studied at school he felt he could record for all humanity what he saw, the horrors, the joy, the love, he would travel all over the world and paint whatever he felt in his heart, and it would all be beautiful.
That was his wish.
A wish that was brutally killed soon after.
He had nightmares that night, not unusual. So he slipped out of his bed and went to his brother's room, Ando had a big bed that he sometimes found too big for himself and would always gladly accept his little brother in it. Ayame loved to sleep curling his hand around Ando's sleeping shirt, smelling his scent and being reassured he was safe in the confines of his arms.
But that night was different, Ando wasn't sleeping like he used to, he was sitting in his bed, staring out of his window, smoking one of his cigarettes and sighing.
"Brother?" the boy asked softly, it was rare to see his hero in such a state. "Are you ok?"
Ando looked at him for a moment, from his baby blue pajamas to his burgundy colored hair, his violet eyes, much like his little brother's, stopping for a second on the old, ragged teddy bear his pale hands were holding. A present he had given Ayame a long time ago.
"Come here…" The older boy said finally, offering his arms to his younger brother who happily nestled himself in the warm cocoon that was his Ando's embrace.
"Brother, I love you.." the smaller boy whispered softly, a reassurance that he was indeed there, comforting in his petit presence.
Ando nodded.
"Promise me something, Aya-chan." He asked in a whisper. "Promise me that whatever happens, you'll never change, you'll never hate like father and I do, you will stay pure…"
Ayame blinked.
"Ando, what's wrong? Why are you telling me this?" Something was wrong, Ando never spoke like that. "Please, brother, tell me."
The embrace suddenly tightened.
"Father is a monster, Aya-chan, I won't let him harm you, I swear, you have to trust me." It was all so confusing, so frightening.
"Ando…"
"He's sending us to Battle Royale, Ayame."
That did it.
Battle Royale? He had heard of it in school, an urban myth most likely. Surely a lie.
The government was sending their problem kids to deserted islands with only one way to get out, back home…
Killing everyone else in the island.
Some of the older kids said it was a new form of recruitment, that the survivors were taken to a military base where they were brainwashed. Others said that there were no survivors at all.
And father was sending both of them there.
"Why?" He asked in shock, his voice dry. "He can't send our classes, they are…"
"He's not sending the whole class, just you." Ando explained painfully. "Father used his influence to get my class into the list, and is sending you so I cooperate… Aya-chan… I'm sorry, I love you so much, I can't bear the idea of losing you to them."
"Ando, brother…"
"They won't have you too, I'll kill them all." Ayame didn't know what to answer, he was confused, but more than that, he was worried about his brother. Was their father capable of using him to control Ando? Yes he was.
Could he do something to stop it?
No, there was nothing he could do…
Ando and Ayame slept in each other's arms that night, knowing the following morning they would be shipped to their island.
To their deaths.
Sixteen year old Ayame Akimachi woke up with a start, feeling once again the coldness of his lonesome bed.
He missed his brother's arms, the love they proyected.
How long had it been since the last time they embraced? Four years? Five?
It seemed like an eternity.
"Ayame, dearest, are you ok?" A soothing voice whispered. The boy turned to the door where a red haired man was staring at him in concern. The boy smiled softly.
"I'm fine, mama." He answered softly. "It was just a nightmare, I'm sure it will pass."
The man frowned.
"Are you sure? I can stay here if you want." He offered. Ayame shook his head.
"It's ok. I have to sleep anyway, tomorrow is my big day, isn't it?" His trained eyes didn't miss the small flinch his 'mama' did, but he would never comment on it, he was sure. Moment of human weakness like those where the ones that made him like his mother figure the most.
"You know that if we had other agents available we wouldn't be sending you, right?" The man tried to explain, once more, the boy shook his head.
"Don't worry, mama. I'll complete it all, you'll see." He reassured. The man nodded and closed his door.
"Good night, Ayame."
"Good night, mama." He answered closing his eyes. "Good night, Mr. Bear." He said to the small, dirty teddy bear he still had in his arms. "Good night, Ando."
Slowly sleep overtook him, along with images of the most handsome man ever, with his laughing violet eyes and dark brown hair. Hugging and kissing and making all the pain go away.
Finally that night, Ayame felt peace.