#the way i had to restrain myself from drawing everyone bro

[sleepy-bear-tm]

Van Velsing doodles cause I got that movie on the brain

[tumblunni]

Gradually working my way thru learning about the yokai watch 3 villains, lol. Cant manage to restrain myself from taking just a teeny lil peek at spoilers! I blame that person drawing all the super awesome redemprion headcanon comicry with the cute oc YOU HAVE CURSED ME WITH YOUR GREATNESS

Ok so apparantly mafia ghost dude fuckin loves space and then GOT EXILED TO SPACE FOR 555 YEARS?? His only fuckin crime at the time was believing in ufos and everyone else was like 'nah bro' LIKE CMON UR LITERALLY GODDAMN GHOSTS BUT ALIENS IS TOO ABSURD FOR YOU??? So somehow this dude ended up making it to space and getting trapped on a meteor completely alone for like a bazillion years and holy shit no wonder he turned evil. Like what sort of ironic karma bullshit is it to be like 'i heard u like this thing how about we lock you up there forever unable to move or scream'.

Also seriously AGENT X WAITED 555 YEARS TO SET HIM FREE AND MAKE HIS DREAMS COME TRUE!!! He says he has no regrets! Aaaaa man i really think this whole plot would be even more emotional if they were a couple. Im just getting that vibe!! Im sorry i cant help it u give me two weird ghost dads in stylish suits and a I'LL WAIT FOR YOU FOREVER plot and a MY ONLY DREAM IS SEEING YOUR DREAM COME TRUE and just seriously man look at that quality ship angst. WHY NO HAPPY ENDING THO

And i'm just thinking now about how emotional their reunion probably was. Like i'm imagining Agent X has a hard time being honest about his feelings cos yknow ghoulfather is the boss of the organization and so far out of his league and such. (And he totally doesnt realize that he's his super valued second in command) So when ghoulfather comes back he's probably wrestling with his gut instinct to run forward and embrace him, because Seriously He Is Your Superior It Will Never Happen, Why Am I Like This. So he's just trying to play it all cool and be like "welcome boss i was totally confident that our plan would work and not incredibly depressed for the last few centuries umm here's your coat" And that thing where the character is crying but they dont notice until they put their hand to their face!! That! That scene!! Have one of those in there, yes! And then possibly mid sentence ghoulfather cuts him off and hugs him, and theyre both just finally honest about how much they missed each other. Aaaand then probably five seconds later theyre like *ahem* *professional voice* "well better get back to work"

Also the game probably wouldnt go into any detail with stuff like muscular atrophy or readjusting to earth gravity or the sheer level of phobia that must be in this man's brain from the constant isolation and how hard it must be to adjust back to talking to people when all he's had for so long is his imagination. But fics can explore all that recovery progress! This is our power, to heal the sad villains with our words!

I was just randonly thinking a sweet date scene for them early on in this plot could be Agent X and Ghoulfather going to a random italian restaurant NOT because its a date totally, but just because its been so long since he's been on earth and its something that could maybe cheer him up. But then they just end up complaining together about how modern restaurants in america are so often not run by italian people and have all this weird american versions of stuff, so it ended up not being very memorable after all. Also crappy wheelchair access! (Cos he'd still be recovering at this time) So yeah it ends up being weirdly fun and romantic for two hours of getting pissed off at terrible service. Getting pissed off at terrible service... Together~!

Also probably eight days later Ageny X suddenly realizes "holy shit taking my boss out to a candlelit restaurant just the two of us is MAYBE slightly flirty". I feel like he's a bit of a disaster at expressing his feelings and only ever manages to make the first move when its accidental. But also has like a natural charisma of accidental flirting which means half the damn mafia has a crush on him, lol. Oh also i was considering like a love triangle thing with rongo? But not any of the stereotypical awful love triangle fighty plots. Just rongo having a crush in agent x and sadly agent x was already in love with ghoulfather and doesnt recipricate. But theyre still best friends even though agent x turned him down, and now rongo is the only one who knows about agent x's crush on ghoulfather and he tries to play ultimate wingman between the two. Like 'i want you to be happy even if it isnt with me!!' So he'd probably be the most pissed off if ghoulfather ever betrayed agent x's trust, i feel like agent x would just blame himself for it and rongo would stand up for him like DAMN DUDE DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH HE MISSED YOU WHEN YOU WERE GONE, YOU RIGHT DENSE BASTARD? That sort of conflict between them, not the more cliche conflict of all three people in a love triangle just being all jealous and secretive and dumb.

Oh also unrelatedly i think Slackerjack and Rongo would be friends? Cos the only time ive seen that slackerjack has any dialogue about him he calls him "a good boy who's quite loud but means well". I can imagine Slackerjack being like that nice grandpa who comes to all of 'little rongo''s music recitals, lol. Or like that meme of 'momma needs her tunes' *death metal blares*. He has all of rongo's cds! Ok actually that mental image is super adorable of this big rockstar dude being like 'omg grampa look im here omg i have to make you proud'. I just feel like rongo is 100% adorable at all times and also has positive relationships with every one of his coworkers like the ray of sunshine that he is. He probably memorizes the names of every single minor minion and gives them all birthday cards. I love this big ol dork.

Anyway this has been Bunni Rambling About Potentially Redeemable Villains They Know Very Little About But Are Very Eager To Meet And Fandomize Over

They all just so good, u guys

[subasekabang]

Ties We Bind (& Break), Chapter 3

Author: @composeregg Rating: T Word Count: 15435, Chapter total: 3415 Pairings/Characters: Joshua/Neku, Shiki/Eri, Joshua & Neku & Shiki & Beat & Rhyme & Eri in a queerplatonic poly-pile relationship. Hanekoma, Kariya. Warnings: Includes depression heavily, and mentions of suicide. Summary: One year after the Long Game, a tall boy named Yuuto Kimura, who has messy black hair, glasses, and bright green eyes, stumbles into Neku’s life, and he can’t help but let him get close, letting him join the circle of friends.

One year after the Long Game, Joshua aches to hang out with Neku again, but the restrictions he’s gained for his transgressions are very clear: Yoshiya Kiryu, Composer of Shibuya, is not to interact with Neku Sakuraba.

(But every rule has a loophole.)

Author’s Note: Each chapter is also being added to ao3! Here! (Small delay per chapter).

Featuring autistic/neurodivergent characters, the “Joshua is Neku’s Dead Best Friend” theory, and lots of headcanons abound.

“So not that you ain’t cool, man, but what’cha doin’ at this meet?” Beat asks, looking at Yuuto.

They’re gathered at Hachiko on a Saturday, like they’ve done twice a month since the Game. Without Eri, so they could hang out as former Game Players.

At least, Beat thought that’s what this was, but Yuuto is standing near. He’d tagged along with Neku to the meetup. None of the others are questioning it, and it makes Beat feel left out of the loop.

“Mm, and here I thought this was for people who’ve played the Game,” he says with a smile, and Beat freezes.

“Sorry, I told him I was meeting up with you guys and he invited himself along,” Neku says. “I told Shiki already, she was the first to show up last Sunday besides me, so we got to chat, but yeah. He apparently played a few years back.”

“It’s been a while since my Game week. I got to play under the previous Composer, in fact; there’s been a regime change since.” Neku frowns at that statement, a flicker across his face before it’s gone, but Beat catches it.

He also notices Rhyme’s reaction, or… lack of it. So he nudges them. “And how come you ain’t surprised by this?”

They shrug, hesitating. “I… I could feel it. My instincts said he’d been touched by the Game, and trusting your instincts is important.”

Ah.

Beat wraps an arm around them, giving a big squeeze. He knows they haven’t told the others yet, and he hasn’t either, but they don’t keep secrets from each other, and… Being a Noise for a bit did something to Rhyme. They get glimpses of the UG, see and feel the presence of Noise, and sometimes they talk about it. Noise running on basic emotions, how it’s heightened their instincts, and how they have to restrain those more now.

Being a Reaper means he didn’t get out unscathed either. The UG is greyscale, hazy, but there in his sights. Power pulses under his skin, buried deep in his core. It’s locked away, he can’t reach it, but if he could…

It’s not a risk he’s willing to take. Beat doesn’t want to be a Reaper, and he doesn’t need that power.

“So, where should we hang out today?” Shiki asks, steering the conversation back onto the tracks. “I’d offer the studio, but Eri said she wanted to get some work done, so she’s there right now.”

“Me and Rhyme’s parents is home, so our place is a no-can-do, sorry yo,” he says.

“And my place is too small to hold us all. Or at least, my mom thinks so, and she’s home.” Neku sighs.

Yuuto grins, and chimes in, “I don’t mean to be presumptuous, asking if you’d like to come to my place, but… Like I said before, rich parents and I live alone.”

“Cool wit’ me,” says Beat, and the others agree.

One quick walk later and, “You live here!?” Shiki gasps, holding a hand to her chest. “If you can afford a Pork City apartment, you must not’ve been joking about rich family!”

“Not just any apartment, the penthouse. The lap of luxury, all to myself!” He laughs, rolling his eyes. “It’s so boring and lonely being isolated there all the time.”

It’s an expensive place to rent, Beat knew that, but as they walk through the halls illuminated by chandeliers and past lounges and rooms of all sorts to the elevator, it starts to sink in just how extravagant this place is.

“It’s a bit much, I think,” Yuuto says, “but I’m not gonna argue where my parents put me. Just a heads up though, a lot of Reapers live here too. I think it’s part of being in the Game, they still need a place to stay, after all.”

With a flourish, he opens the door, and plops down on a recliner chair. Beat follows him in, as do the rest, and Yuuto instructs them to make themselves at home so they all get situated. Neku stakes a claim on the other empty chair, while Beat ends up on the couch, Rhyme in the middle, with Shiki on the other end.

“Sooo,” says Yuuto, “what do y’all do when you gather like this, Players only?”

“Talk, vent, throw stuff at each other, make bad jokes and memes,” Neku says, slipping his headphones down so they rest around his neck. “We should probably share Game stories first, since you’re new here.”

Yuuto nods. “Mm… Well, I played about two years ago. My partner was Uzuki Yashiro,” he says, continuing without noticing the way the rest of them tense, the way the background music jumps as the CD hits a scratch. “She’s a Reaper now, as far as I know. We did not get along well, but we survived.”

“She’s awful,” Shiki groans. “We all had to deal with her, and she’s a manipulative slimy asshole.”

“Sounds about right,” he says with a snort. The next words out of Yuuto’s mouth were softer: “My Fee was my friend’s memories of me. They managed to nitpick something I’d done, and I didn’t get it back. He remembers nothing.”

Neku winces, Shiki gasps, Rhyme closes their eyes and sighs, and Beat… He can only think of Rhyme, and how they never recognized him as their brother. Every little thing they should’ve been able to think of, from calling him bro to their jokes and the quiet nights they’d whisper to each other, not wanting to be alone. Losing that, forever?

It’d destroy him.

“I can’t imagine what it’d be like to forget someone so close to you forever,” Neku says. He’s sitting sideways on the chair, legs draped over one of the armrests and his head against the other. “I mean, the memories are just gone? How do you not realize you’re missing something? How do other people not notice, if they were so close to you?”

“I remember,” Rhyme sighs. “I remember what it was like to forget. It’s like, you know that person exists, know who they were to you, but all the little details were gone. Name, face, specific memories… dust in the wind.”

Beat wraps an arm around them, and they lean on him. Soft touches, a solid presence, reminders that they’re there for each other. That they haven’t left or forgotten.

Yuuto nods at the words, and dangles himself upside-down off the chair, hair skimming the wooden floor. “He doesn’t remember me. He knows he had a friend, but I haven’t tried to rekindle that bond… I miss him, but I lost it all when I lost my Fee.”

“Well hey, maybe you’ll get another chance someday!” Shiki says, cheer infused in her voice. “Not every end is final, and even if he doesn’t remember the details, I’m sure he’d love to have an old friend back.” She’s hops up on the back of the couch, feet hanging in front of the back cushion.

“The world begins with you and all that jazz, huh?” Yuuto snorts. “Your world gets bigger if you reach out to others. Maybe I’ll tell him, sometime. For now, I’ll wait and see what the future holds.”

Chat: [It’s not gay if we’re dead]

[Emo gay has added Yuuto Kimura to the chat]

Emo gay: Welcome to the dead kid’s club.

A lot of this chat is Shiki yelling about how cute Eri is.

An entire 50% of this chat is all of us being queer.

Fashion lesbian: Listen,

She’s beautiful and I’m gay as hell.

And she’s not in this chat so I’m allowed to scream.

Yuuto Kimura: Noted.

[Yuuto Kimura has changed their name to Music queer]

Music queer: I figured I should fit the theme.

Space battery: Nice name!

Music queer: Thanks I picked it out myself!

I must ask, though, why battery?

Space battery: I’m triple-A.

Skateboard ace: And they always got enough energy to charge up everyone else

Space battery: Beat,

You should take a look at yourself sometime, you’ve got enough energy to power the sun!

Emo gay: Another 20% of this chat is these two being adorable siblings so jot that down.

Music queer: What’s the last 30%?

Emo gay: 20% memes and dead jokes, 10% depression.

Music queer: You know what? Valid.

I think I’ll fit right in.

Rhyme likes Yuuto, they really do! It’s been a month since he’s joined the group, and he’s been nothing but fun. Maybe not the nicest, he likes to tease Neku, but he’s got good intentions, so they like him!

It’s just…

There’s something wrong about him.

Indescribably, horrifically wrong.

Noise do not draw near him. If one gets too close, they freeze and dart away. His mere presence wards them all, and Rhyme can sense it, the Noise are afraid.

Rhyme knows this, because they feel the same.

An instinctual terror, prickling at the hair on their arms, raising the alarm. They squash it down, tuck it away until it doesn’t bother them, but it’s there. Clawing at the back of their throat.

They’ve felt it before, in the presence of Neku’s 2nd week Game Partner. Joshua.

It’s fuzzy, grey-scaled and water-damaged, but they remember being a Noise, operating on instinct alone. They remember when they were returned to a human form, to life.

They remember the Composer.

So they message him.

Rhyme: Hey can we talk today? At WildKat, preferably.

Yuuto: Sure. May I ask why?

Rhyme: You can, but I’m not answering that here, only in person.

Which is how they find themself seated in a booth across from Yuuto after school that evening. Untouched coffee sits before both of them, steam curling up and away.

“So,” he draws, picking up his cup, “Are you going to answer my question now?”

They nod. “Your name is actually Joshua, and you’re the Composer.”

Coffee splashes over the table and over his lap as Yuuto flinches back and drops it. With a yelp, he jumps up, hissing, “Ow! Fuuuuck that’s hot!”

They watch as he hops around, grabbing at napkins to clean up. With a roll of their eyes, they say, “I’m right, aren’t I? You can use your powers if I am, no sense hiding them.”

He spares a glance at Rhyme, and then waves a hand to make the mess disappear.

“Well, I’m sure that answers your question,” he says, sliding back into his seat. “Do I get to know how you figured it out?”

“I remember,” they say. “Not… Not well, most of my time as Noise is static, but I remember what it’s like. During the second week of it all, I know Neku’s Partner set me on edge, and when the Composer brought me back, I remember that flighty feeling from then, too. You’ve got the same vibe.”

Yuuto rubs his forehead, taking a long, deep breath. “This was unexpected,” he mutters. “You want to know why I’m lying about my identity, I assume.”

Rhyme nods. “I also want to know if you plan on messing with Neku again,” they say. When Yuuto’s eyes widen, they cut in before he can speak. “He didn’t tell us what you did, but we can all see how he acts. You did something. You don’t have to tell me what you did, Neku isn’t ready for us to know, but I want to make sure you won’t do it again.”

“Fair enough,” he says, and then his color starts to bleed away.

The black seeps out of his hair, and it bounces into wavy curls. Green flashes to purple in his eyes, and his skin goes a few shades paler. Nothing about the structure of his face changes, but he takes off his glasses, and there’s Joshua, sitting in front of them.

“I’ll start simple. I promise I mean no harm to Neku.” At their snort, he frowns. “I mean that! I hold my past actions in great contempt. I wasn’t in a good space, mentally. Like, you met Neku early on during the Game, I was like that, but a hundred times worse.”

“Oh.”

He laughs. “Yeah, oh. I won’t say what I did, but it was bad, and he has every right to be mad. I didn’t expect him to want to see me, after everything.”

“He does though, so hiding behind a false face is a cowardly move.”

“My superiors would rather I not interact with him at all. This is my loophole,” he says, which, what?

It’s a puzzle, and they don’t have all the pieces, but with some work and head-tilting, they can still make out the picture. “You were told not to meet up with him, weren’t you?”

“Bingo, but they specified Yoshiya Kiryu, Composer of Shibuya, not Yuuto Kimura, ex-Game Player who lived in America these past two years.”

Rhyme crosses their arms over their chest, leaning back. “Clever. Going to fake this forever, then?”

“Nah, working on getting that rule repealed.”

“And what will you do when it is? Your reveal will be another betrayal, another way you stab him in the back, because he’ll think it’s been an elaborate joke.” It’s dramatic, but Neku would. At first.

Joshua snorts. “I know him better than you do. I know he’ll call me an asshole and think I’m messing with him, pulling his strings, but I have some stuff I can say, which might help.”

“What sort of stuff?”

“The truth.”

“Okay, so first things first, we need to get your measurements!” Shiki says, measuring tape in hand as Eri grabs the notepad and pen.

Yuuto laughs. “No time to waste?”

The studio is a mess, mannequins with half-finished projects hanging off them, fabric strewn across the floor, needles shoved into the armrest of the couch, spools of thread in corners and on shelves, and design papers scattered around the room.

It’s perfect. Creativity spawned from this disaster, beauty found in the calamity of a localized tornado. Shibuya’s life shines bright in spaces like this, her Soul strengthened, bursting with energy.

Were he not Yuuto right now, he’d love to soak up the Imagination and refine it, give them good luck for ages.

“Of course, of course! Why dilly-dally when we can get this ball rolling?” Eri laughs, pulling him out of the doorway and into the room proper. “Now let Shiki work her magic!”

He does, standing still as Shiki measures and calls out numbers. Eri dutifully writes them down, and he lets Shiki adjust his positioning as needed to get the most accurate results.

Once Shiki has the measurements, he plops down onto the couch, a grin on his face. There’s more than enough seating for the three of them. The entire gang had crashed here the day before. “So, this thing you’re gonna have me model, what is it?”

Eri flits around, grabbing her sketchpad and pencils, before sitting at her desk. “We’re going to start with something simple first. Maybe a basic suit, or a dress? You could rock either. How do you feel about pink? I feel like it’d suit you well. Or maybe a bright green, or something more forest-y. It’d go well with your eyes.”

“Ooh, pink is always fun, but you’re right, green would match my eyes. I absolutely love blues and purples too, by the way!” He leans back, pulling out a sheet of paper for himself, and a pencil. “Musical motifs are fun, since I’m a composer of music.”

Shiki’s head snaps up to look at him, but he gives no reaction back. Eri, meanwhile is going “Oooh,” and scrawling that down as a note.

“Music notes would be cool to work into some of the things we make you in the future! Little embroidered notes and designs! It’d be super cute!” she says, a grin lighting up her face.

Danger lurks in the room, Shiki refusing to take her eyes off him, but Eri remains oblivious. He gives Shiki a wink, after a moment, playing it off with a shrug. She huffs, and turns her attention back to the doodles Eri is scrawling.

“Mm, we could add some lacework, couldn’t we?” she asks.

Yuuto sighs, tapping his fingers against the fabric of the couch. “If you do add lace, could you keep it minimal or in places that won’t rub against my skin? The texture can be irritating as all hell.”

“Noted!” Eri scribbles that down in the margins as well. At this rate, they’re no doubt going to have a folder on his preferences and design ideas.

The thought of them keeping a record on him sends a spark of warmth through his heart. Watching them squabble over design ideas in the afternoon sunlight, filtering in through the window, makes the sight look like home.

The kid sitting in front of Koki is not one he knows. It’s not one he’s ever met or talked to before. He’d been enjoying his meal when this kid walked into Ramen Don and sat across from him.

Except that’s a lie.

Koki might not know this kid with short black hair and green eyes, but he knows those glasses, he knows that grin, and he knows the Music.

“What’s up, J?”

“Shhh, I’m Yuuto like this, remember?” He holds a finger to his lips, hiding his smile. “Can’t have you talking about my secret when the others could waltz right in and see me.”

Koki snorts. “And what will they say if they walk in on their good friend Yuuto having lunch with a Reaper?”

“They know I’ve always seen the UG, I’ll just tell them the truth. I’ve known you since before I ever played, and you’re just a weird uncle type dude.” Yuuto grins, and orders some Shio while they talk.

“Alright, you got me there. I pull off weird uncle well, don’t I?” he asks with a laugh.

“You do, you really do.”

Koki takes a bite of his own ramen, slurping it up. It’s been a while since he’s gotten food with the little brat, but it’s well worth it to make sure he’s eating. The kid always forgets to take care of himself, so if Koki has to step up the family-figure role in his life to ensure he does, so be it.

“So, how’s the whole friends thing goin’, anyway? It’s been a few months so far, right?”

Josh shrugs. “Yeah, it has. It’s going good. They’re all… really nice to me,” he says, fiddling with his hair. “Like, Rhyme, the one that got Erased, they figured out who I am, and they still accept me, though… They don’t know the whole story, but still!”

Ramen arrives, and so Josh has to speak between bites now, as Koki sits and listens to him ramble. “Neku checks up on me and makes sure I’m not left out. He keeps me from retreating into my shell. Shiki and Eri have already been working on making me clothes because they need more models,” he laughs. “Beat is trying to teach me how to skateboard, and I have to remember not to heal up my scrapes and bruises because that’d be suspicious.”

“You’re happy with them all, huh?” he asks. It’s obvious to him, the way Josh lights up, even in this false form. This is the most friends he’s ever had, and it shows in the hands he waves in the air, the glint of life in his eyes, how much this means to him.

“Yeah! I mean, I wish I could tell Neku,” the blinding smile dims at the statement, “but I can’t. This is the best alternative to that.”

“Hey, in a year or two? You’ll be able to tell him, so don’t sweat about that. I’m sure he’ll understand.” With the way his mom raised him, he’d better, Koki doesn’t say, but he thinks it. It had taken a bit of digging, and it’s such a trivial fact, one thread of being related, but it’s there.

He died before he could see his little sister have children, over a hundred years ago. Now, he’s found a distant descendant. He’s an uncle, with a few greats in front of the grand, but he’s an uncle to somebody alive.

The conversation continues, both of them unaware of the figure watching from outside the window. With a snap, Shiki takes a picture of Yuuto hanging out with a Reaper, eyes narrowing.

She’s got her suspicions. They’ve grown a bit stronger now.

[weblistposting-blog]

New Post has been published on Weblistposting

New Post has been published on https://weblistposting.com/after-40-years-i-finally-tracked-down-my-useless-brother/

After 40 years I finally tracked down my useless brother

For most of my existence, and I’m 50 now, one piece of statistics approximately my brother had blocked all others. “dead” have become the barrier; a restraining wall.

Nicky’s deadness became his defining characteristic, even though he have to have had others: he changed into 9 when he drowned. I was eleven, his closest brother through age, but to contain the grief I had dismissed his individual as provisional. He became a baby. Now he became useless. Nothing more to look here.

In death, Nicky thinned and dwindled. He became timid, prone, too vulnerable to preserve his preserve on life. loss of life saved his mouth close, a meek and unassuming boy barely worthy of the word. As a circle of relatives, we didn’t speak about him and waited for silence and time to wear him away.

It becomes any other loss of life that delivered him again. whilst my dad died, all of sudden I had to get admission to a few steel filing shelves inside the alcove in the nook of his have a look at (formerly hidden behind a roll-down display, also locked).

My first instinct, or hope, become that surprising keys might open up a hidden internal life. I’d seek thru my dad’s files and find a secret shrine to Nicky, evidence of emotional craving concealed for decades some of the correspondence and credit card statements. No such tortured soul emerged. What I did discover, in the bottom drawer of the furthermost cupboard, became an inexperienced plastic bag.

Nicky’s documentary relics, which includes they have been, comprised a package of faculty reviews and a vinyl-blanketed ring-binder of commiseration letters. There was additionally a certified copy of an entry of demise, signed via the Cornwall registrar. I positioned the dying certificate aside, to glean what I ought to from the paperwork left in the back of.

Before everything, the letters of condolence weren’t plenty assist. The boy they described felt as not likely as my useless, passive version of nine-yr-old Nicky. The letters reached for the opposite intense, summoning a high-quality powered small boy with “special gifts … so earnest and enquiring”. Nicky turned into “a vivid, handsome boy with a lovable experience of humor”. Apparently, “everything Nicky did he did nicely, be it a game, paintings, his track, or just kindness and exact manners”.

Perhaps he changed into and Maybe he wasn’t, but, slowly, choosing through the bones of praise, a surprising emotion began to make itself felt: resentment. I resented my dead little brother, however no longer because he became “brilliant”, “proficient”, “extremely kind” and “a brilliant conversationalist” (a 9-year-old boy!). no longer even due to the fact he becomes dead. I realized or remembered, that at some distance side of the wall we were opponents. And now not in a great way.

The forgotten fact struck me like a revelation. I grew to become to the college reports, greedy for word of Nicholas Beard, and first of all his teachers appeared to confirm what I had examined inside the letters of sympathy. In 1974, Nicholas becomes “a promising student” who advanced right into a “pleasant and capable boy”. through 1977, he “continues to do nicely, and his future looks brilliant”, at which point I was relieved to look a sample of doubt creep in. Aged 8 and a chunk, my brother changed into “a little overconfident”, even though he did have his motives. via 1978, the year of his loss of life, he becomes first in every difficulty besides maths (wherein he came fourth). First in French, records, geography, scripture, all first. First in English, and that’s my problem, in which “he is never glad until he is pinnacle!” No marvel he had a “relatively conceited way”.

He turned into “a natural cricketer, above common”. I’d blocked that out. My little bro Nicholas had been a brainbox with an expertise for the game. All and sundry who had shared his early life, as I did, should on mirrored image have remembered that this was so, simplest I’d by no means took the time to reflect. Nicky turned into “active and properly coordinated, and continually offers one hundred% effort”.

I used to be after him now, and I too may want to installed a hundred% attempt. I went attempting to find greater evidence, for random images in forgotten corners of attics. Whenever I discovered him, my first response changed into often condescension. Nicky turned into marooned inside the 70s. He wore brown sandals and a nylon petrol-blue polo neck. His garments have been a unique catastrophe at own family activities, including a crimson and blue striped waistcoat, or a crimson-checked blouse with a simple blue tie. I had the identical outfit, however, I grew out of it.

Regularly, I collected a Nicky image series. All his existence changed into right here: he crawled, sat, splashed inside the tub, toddled about with a cushion on his head. His tricycle, his seventh birthday, Stonehenge, the paddling pool out the again on a summer time’s day, complete diving under in 10 inches of plastic Barrier Reef. He just turned into. He lived.

One precise photoactivated a reminiscence. 4 brothers on vacation, wearing anoraks, arranged for the digital camera on a disused metallic railway bridge. Someplace in Wales, at a wager. Nicky is pretending to unfasten a rivet on a girder, as though he’s difficult at paintings. Absolutely everyone is looking at the digicam besides him and me, because Nicky is getting to his rivet and I’m looking at Nicky, slyly, face to the digital camera, however, eyes sliding meanly to the right. I want to hide my spiteful sideways glance at something it’s far he’s doing, but the image doesn’t lie.

I hated Nicky’s pretending. We were a circle of relatives group posing for a picture and Everybody who saw it later need to recognize, honestly, that my more youthful brother was no longer a qualified engineer.

My nasty appearance, and the sick will at the back of it wasn’t an isolated incident. In every other image, Nicky turned into “jogging” out of the ocean, but I should see for a fact he wasn’t. He changed into status still, most effective pretending to run. He turned into “mending” his upturned bicycle, only he didn’t realize the primary aspect approximately motorcycle mechanics. He was eight. What he became absolutely doing was drawing interest to himself, making sure he became the only within the photograph. I resented his displaying off, his attention searching for, and I was hyper-alert to his plays due to the fact I favored to apply them too.

My wall of demise had offered a much less complex soreness than this fact of competition with a threatening and successful rival, who became also my more youthful brother. Hamming it up within the snapshots, Nicky had been searching in advance, imagining the print in a body on an outstanding mantelpiece. He turned into making calculations approximately the future, to further his interests. He becomes self-conscious and had thoughts of his very own.

again then, I hadn’t wanted him to catch me up. I favored him as a bit boy who belonged with other little boys, while I fancied myself almost one of the large boys. His growing up endangered my repute. Bluntly, at that degree in our lives, we didn’t like each different, after which he died. no longer long before, I’d punched him in the face, and that I recall the feel of his nostril-bone in opposition to my knuckles. I recall disputed sandwiches and broken Lego and global struggle three. He just kept coming. Fuck off, Nicky, I leave out you greater than I ever stated.

For too a few years, I’d desired to prevent his loss of life and look no similarly, due to the fact death made a simpler memory than the circle of relatives. Ultimately, albeit almost 4 decades later, the denial subsequently lost its grip. Nicky’s forcefully lived existence, however quick, refused to live repressed. He gave 100% and changed into in no way satisfied. Every person stated so, and a boy like that became constantly going to make it lower back. He took his time, and death delayed him, however finally he caught me up.

• The Day That Went Lacking by using Richard Beard, approximately the death of his brother, is posted with the aid of Harvill Secker, £14.99. To order a duplicate for £11.24, visit bookstore.Theguardian.Com or name on. Unfastened United kingdom p&p on orders of greater than £10, online only. Cellphone orders min p&p of £1.ninety nine.