It has been weeks since Zane finally came home.
But the house did not feel like home anymore.
At the dinner table, Syrus sat alone, quietly pushing rice around his plate. The only sound in the room was the soft clink of chopsticks against porcelain and the distant, rhythmic shuffle of cards from Zane's room upstairs.
Gone was the usual ritual of Zane coming home with new card packs in hand and immediately opening them up with Syrus in the living room. Then, after they finished editing their decks with the new cards, the two would go duel on the dinner table.
Both would laugh when one of them misplayed, shout proudly when one of them won, and sometimes even knock over their drinks in the heat of the duel.
Now, Zane stays in his room 24/7.
To train.
Always training.
And when he did come out to eat, to shower, or to leave for school, he treated Syrus like he was nothing more than background noise. A pebble on the side of the road. Someone insignificant.
Syrus forced another bite of food into his mouth, though for some reason after Zane came home, everything tasted worse and worse. It wasn't that the cooking had changed. It was something else. Something heavy sitting in his chest that made even the fried rice bitter.
His eyes drifted to the side of the room.
There, resting neatly against the wall cabinet, were two old decks. One sleeved in blue. One sleeved in red.
His and Zane's.
Syrus stopped chewing and swallowed hard. His fingers tightened around his chopsticks before he slowly set them down.
He stared at them.
Syrus remembered when, a few years ago, they were having fun dueling at the dinner table.
But now... it seemed that Syrus had no choice.
Syrus gritted his teeth. If Zane wouldn't come down, then he would go up.
Grabbing both decks tightly to his chest, Syrus walked up the stairs. Each step felt heavier than it should have, like there were chains trying to stop him from going up. Finally, when Syrus reached Zane's door, he hesitated for only a second before knocking.
Knock knock.
The door opened almost immediately.
Zane stood there with his usual calm, distant, and cold expression. His eyes fell to the two decks Syrus was holding, then to Syrus himself, who almost seemed like a small sheep confronting a wolf in front of him.
"B-big brother…" Syrus forced himself to speak despite the tightness in his throat. "Would you like to have a duel with me? Like we used to?"
Zane did not answer right away. He simply stared at him, and under that cold, detached gaze, Syrus felt sweat gather along his temples.
It took him all his courage just to get here and knock on Zane's door. But now he seemed to regret it.
[AAH!!! Stupid Syrus! Of course big brother will reject this! He's training all this time probably for an important reason! Why would he waste time with someone like me?]
Syrus braced himself for refusal.
But on the contrary, Zane nodded.
"Ok," Zane said flatly. "Let's duel, Syrus."
For a moment, Syrus couldn't even process the words. Then his eyes lit up and a wide smile spread across his face.
"Mm! Now let's go duel!"
---
"Syrus..."
Zane said in a cold tone while staring a piercing glare at Syrus.
"You, yet again, fall for another one of my 'simple traps,' which is just a face-down {Mirror Force} with a low attacking monster up front. Please consider either checking for the trap or just don't attack. Even amateurs know this, Syrus," Zane said coldly.
At the dinner table, Syrus and Zane sat across from each other. It has been 3 games ever since Syrus asked Zane to duel him. Not only had Syrus lost all of them, but not once had Syrus even managed to touch a single point of Zane's LP. And every time he lost, Zane would always critique him.
And this 4th game... was no different.
Syrus lost again while Zane still had full LP.
"Ugh..." Syrus groaned. "One more time, big brother!"
Syrus raised a finger to Zane, and Zane nodded as both of them shuffled their decks for a new game.
And so they started their 5th game, which Syrus lost.
Then their 6th game, which Syrus lost.
Then their 7th game.
Then the 8th game.
The 9th game.
Then... by the 10th game...
"..."
Zane stayed quiet.
This time, Zane didn't offer any critique. He simply stared at Syrus across the table, his expression devoid of warmth.
Syrus swallowed and forced himself to raise his hand again. "Brother… please, one more time."
"No." Zane's refusal was immediate.
He stood up from the table, the legs of his chair scraping softly against the floor. He looked down at Syrus with a gaze that felt colder than anything he had said that night.
"Not only does it seem that you've worsened ever since I left to train at the Cyber Dojo," Zane said evenly, "it appears I coddled you too much before that."
Zane stared at Syrus with an icy glare.
"That it made you weak."
The word struck harder than any direct attack.
Syrus stared at him, stunned, as Zane turned away.
"Until you get stronger, please don't ask me to duel you ever again," Zane continued. "I don't want to waste my training time on this."
Without another glance, he walked upstairs. The sound of his footsteps faded, followed by the quiet click of his bedroom door closing.
Syrus remained seated at the dinner table.
The cards were scattered in front of him, some crooked, some face-down, remnants of seventeen crushing defeats. He stared at them without moving, the room feeling far larger and emptier than before.
That night marked the last time the two brothers ever dueled at the dinner table.
---
The very next day...
Zane, once again, left the house.
This time it was not to train, but to travel across the region, and compete in Duel Monsters tournaments while representing the Cyber Dojo. His name had already started circulating in competitive circles, and invitations came one after another.
Syrus stood by the doorway as Zane adjusted his coat and stepped outside. The first few times Zane had left like this, it had hollowed something out inside him. Now, he simply watched in silence. It still hurt... but he had grown used to that feeling.
In the weeks that followed, Zane went on a monstrous win streak. He claimed first place in rookie tournaments, then intermediate ones. Word spread that he had even defeated a pro duelist in an exhibition match. His popularity skyrocketed, and soon people began calling him the "Rookie Star."
Everyone in Japan seemed to know his name.
Including everyone at Syrus's school.
One afternoon during lunch break, a group of students huddled around a phone, watching one of Zane's recorded matches.
"Zane is so strong!" a fatass boy exclaimed, eyes glued to the screen. "When he goes pro, I don't think anyone will be able to beat him!"
"He's insanely skilled with those {Cyber Dragon}'s," a boy with glasses added, pointing at the display. "Look! He just summoned {Cyber End Dragon} again!"
"Not only is he strong, he's handsome too~" a girl added in from behind them, clasping her hands dreamily. "Zane can marry me anytime~!"
Syrus, who had been passing by overheard they're conversation, couldn't help himself. He stepped up behind them with a proud grin.
"Yeah! My brother is really strong, right?"
The mood shifted instantly, but not the good kind. The kids who was watching the video glanced at Syrus with an annoyed look.
The fatass boy glanced over his shoulder and frowned. "Hey, Bum. We know he's strong, so shut up, alright?"
"You heard him," the girl added, looking at Syrus with open disdain. "So shut up and while you're at it, go away."
"Yeah," the boy with glasses said coolly. "You're not even half as strong as your older brother."
Syrus's hands clenched at his sides. "Hey! Just so you know, I've beaten my older brother in duels before!"
There was a brief moment of silence.
Then they burst out laughing.
"H-hey! Why are you guys laughing?!" Syrus shouted, his face burning.
"Maybe because that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say!" the fat boy wheezed between laughs.
"Are you sure he didn't just go easy on you?" the boy with glasses asked mockingly. "Maybe he let you win so you wouldn't cry."
"And you can't even beat Omji, the weakest duelist in the club just to get in," the girl added. She crossed her arms and looked at him coldly. "Just admit it, Syrus."
"You're weak."
Syrus gritted his teeth with anger.
The word hit him harder than he expected.
"NO! I'M NOT WEAK!" Syrus shouted, his voice cracking with frustration. "I'll prove it to you by building my own deck! Then we'll settle this after I'm done making it!"
Before anyone could respond, he turned and ran out of the classroom, heading straight for the nearest toy shop.
Behind him, the group returned to watching Zane's match.
"He's just a loser," the fat lil boy scoffed. "What could he possibly do with a new deck?"
---
Contrary to what everyone believed, a few weeks later Syrus returned with a brand-new deck and something else.
Confidence.
"AAAH! NOOO!" the Eric Cartman boy screamed as he dropped to his knees in the South Park near the school.
Syrus stood across from him, breathing hard but grinning fiercely. On the field, a {Steam Gyroid} with 4400 attack points loomed triumphantly, boosted by {Power Bond}.
"Yeah! How do you like that?!" Syrus declared, pointing down at his fallen opponent.
"Ugh… how could this be…?" the boy groaned. "I lost… to Syrus?!"
The girl and the boy with glasses stared in disbelief.
"Is Syrus always this strong?" the girl stammered.
"Well… he usually runs a deck full of random cards he thinks are cool," the boy with glasses muttered thoughtfully. "Now that he has a proper strategy… he might actually be...!"
He hesitated.
"As good as his brother!"
"Fufufu…"
Syrus overheard them and couldn't help the small, satisfied laugh that escaped his lips. He puffed out his chest, and a hint of pride was swelling inside him.
Then he looked up at the clear blue sky overhead.
"Brother… just you wait."
He raised his fist toward the sky, a bright smile stretching across his face.
"I'll become just as strong as you!"
Over the next three days, Syrus went on his own win streak at school. He didn't win every duel, but his win rate soared. He dueled many student to make himself comfortable with his new deck and eventually defeated the fifth-strongest member of the dueling club, earning his place among the dueling club of the school.
For the first time, everything seemed to be going his way.
Until...
---
"I challenged the bully who always picked on me to a duel," Syrus said quietly as the flashback ends.
Mash listened without interrupting.
"You already know the rest," Syrus continued with a bitter smile. "I got overconfident, declared a stupid bet, then almost lost and was about to embarrassed myself. but luckily my brother stepped in… But, after that, he forbade me from ever using {Power Bond} again."
Syrus looked down at the {Power Bond} card in his hand, his thumb brushing over its edges.
"After that… I don't know why, but I just kept losing," he admitted softly. "They started bullying me even more. Saying I'd never be like Zane. A few days later, I got kicked out of the dueling club because I lost too much."
He gave a hollow laugh.
"And now here we are. As you can see… I'm just a pathetic, lonely loser."
His voice lowered.
"There's no hope for me. No hope of becoming like my brother. And no hope of… getting stronger."
Mash remained silent for a long moment after Syrus finished speaking. His expression didn't change, but his mind was moving quickly, piecing together every detail Syrus had revealed. The tournaments, the bullying, the overconfidence, the ban on Power Bond, and the steady decline afterward.
"And yet… you still dueled," Mash finally said, his voice calm but serious.
He turned fully toward Syrus, studying him. "Why? If it were me, I would've quit on the spot and found something else to do. Something... less painful."
Mash stared at Syrus.
"So why?" Mash asked again, more quietly this time. "Why do you still want to duel?"
Syrus didn't answer immediately. His fingers tightened around the {Power Bond} card, the edges pressing into his skin. He lifted his free hand and quickly wiped at his face, as if brushing something away before it could be noticed.
"I-if I... ever get just as strong as my brother…" he said quietly.
Syrus looked up at Mash as he began forcing a small, crooked smile.
"Maybe..." Syrus continued, voice barely holding steady, "J-just maybe..."
"The kind older brother I remember will come back."
He said it with a fragile kind of hope, like someone clinging to the last plank of wood in open water.
Mash's eyes widened slightly as something in his chest tightened painfully. He opened his mouth, intending to respond, but no words came out.
There was so much to unpack. So much that the original story had never shown. The trauma hidden beneath Syrus's awkwardness. The years spent chasing a shadow.
And the person who is connected to all of this...
Zane.
Mash felt a burning irritation started to flare inside of him. Whatever the circumstances, whatever the pressure, Syrus had been left carrying something far too heavy for a kid like him.
Before Mash could organize his thoughts, Syrus pointed awkwardly toward the desk.
"Uh… Mash, look at the clock."
Mash followed his finger. The digital display read 10:01.
"I-It's 10 PM now, a-and I think I should get going," Syrus said as he stood up, offering a weak smile. "This was a nice talk… A-anyway, I'll tell you tomorrow if I'm going to continue training Speedroids again or not, so…"
He hesitated briefly.
"Goodnight, Mash..."
Syrus gave a small wave before turning and walking toward the door.
Mash watched him bend down to slip on his slippers. Something felt unfinished. Wrong. Like letting him leave now would cement everything Syrus had just confessed.
And just as Syrus was about to reach for the doorknob.
"Wait!"
Mash's voice came out sharper than he expected.
Syrus jolted and turned around just as Mash slowly walked toward him and stopped directly in front of him.
"M-Mash…?" Syrus asked nervously. He try to look up at Mash face but his expression was unreadable which makes Syrus even more nervous.
Almost suddenly, Mash raised his arms above Syrus head.
Syrus instinctively squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself, unsure what Mash was about to do.
[W-what is he gonna do???] Syrus thought, as he start to have many negative thoughts swirl in his head.
Instead... a hand gently landed on his head.
As Mash began to pat his hair.
Syrus blinked in surprise and slowly looked up. Mash's expression had softened completely. There was nothing teasing or sarcastic about it, there was only warmth, it was almost like-
"Syrus..."
Mash said warmly, his hand still resting in his hair, thumb brushing once through the soft strands as he smiled gently.
"I'm proud of you."
The words landed with unexpected force.
For a split second, Syrus didn't see Mash standing in front of him. He saw someone else. Someone taller. Someone he used to look up to with absolute trust. Someone he cherish so much... but lost.
Something long sealed inside his chest cracked.
But...
Syrus quickly grabbed Mash's wrist and pulled his hand away, trying not to laugh at how out of character Mash was being. "Mash, what are you doing? Haha! First you make me do that strange talking session, and now this? This is so not you. Hahahaha…"
Drip.
"Ha?"
His laughter trembled.
He felt something warm on his cheek.
When he touched it, his fingers came away wet.
It... was tears.
"What...?"
He wiped his eyes quickly but more tears followed.
"T-this is… strange…"
He wiped again. And again. But the tears wouldn't stop.
"N-NO! T-this isn't what it looks like! Hiks!"
Now Syrus pressed both hands against his eyes, but tears streamed through the gaps between his fingers, his shoulders began to shake, and years of something that was bottled up inside his heart was about to burst.
"Syrus…" Mash said softly.
He gently pulled Syrus's hands away from his face.
Syrus's cheeks were soaked, his eyes red, tears spilling freely now. Yet Mash's expression remained calm and steady. Gentle in a way Syrus had almost forgotten existed.
"You did well enduring this far," Mash said, resting a hand on Syrus's shoulder. "So if you want to let it out… just let it out."
"Hiks… hiks…" Syrus sniffed, trying and failing to hold himself together. His lips trembled as he looked up at Mash.
"A…!"
The dam broke.
"ANIKIII!!!"
Syrus lunged forward, burying his face into Mash's chest as he sobbed. The cry tore out of him, raw and desperate, as if pulled from somewhere deep within.
He cried without restraint, clutching onto Mash's shirt as if afraid he might disappear. Tears soaked through the fabric, but Mash didn't move away. He simply wrapped an arm around Syrus and gently patted his back.
"Aniki...! I... I...! All this time did I-"
"Yeah, yeah I know, Syrus." Mash ruffled Syrus hair. "You did well enduring it all this time."
"Aniki…! I… I…! All this time did I—"
"Yeah, yeah. I know," Mash murmured, ruffling his hair again. "You did well. You really did."
That only made Syrus cry harder.
Mash let out a quiet sigh as he felt his shirt growing damp, but he didn't complain. He continued patting Syrus's back in steady, reassuring motions.
Because he understood.
For nearly a decade, all Syrus had truly wanted was for his big brother to acknowledge him.
To tell him he had done well.
That's it.
That's all.
Nothing more...
Nothing less...
_____________________________________
Uhh...
Hey everyone...
So...
Uhh...
I've been busy...
With real life stuff...
also lazy.
but that doesn't count!
Uhh... anyway, since I've been reading other fics...
Can I have some power stone? UWU
I have no fucking idea what they do, but if you guys donate a lot of power stone I may become more active. (Anybody please tell me what they do!????) anyway, hope you all enjoy this chapter, Chiao!
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