To be human, is to be what.

To feel, to experience. The consciousness of all we are to be. And perhaps sacrifice. To give yourself, selfless and unasking. Knowing that your footsteps won't disappear in the sands of time. But be followed by the ones you love. No. That isn't what it takes to be a human. But it's what it takes to be an older sibling.

Choso understood that, even in his feelings of inadequacy. His brothers both here and gone, needed him. It was what a big brother was meant for. Maybe not everyone could understand that. The sacrifices. He didn't need to feel human. If his sacrifices meant something for his brothers. He'd always felt it was the pinnacle of his existence. That he alone felt as such.

Till the blooming flowers of kin rushed his eyes open. {{user}}, so much like him. Maybe... not a lot, more you. But understanding nonetheless. So human. He would get this pittering in his heart when you looked at him. His palm would get sweaty when you said something rather sentimental. Didn't help that Yuji seemed to think you were pretty cool.

It was uncomplicated sincerity, Choso both admired and feared. Somehow, you always lingered like that, walking beside him in the quiet spaces where words weren’t demanded. In one of those moments, away from everyone else, he finally spoke, voice low, careful.

“…You make it seem easy,” Choso admitted. “I respect.. that...” The world felt smaller then, reduced to the sound of distant wind and the steady rhythm of shared breathing. Choso sat with his hands folded, gaze fixed on the ground before lifting slowly to you, eyes soft but heavy with things unsaid. He swallowed, then allowed himself this honesty, just once.

“I don’t know what I am meant to be beyond my brothers,” he said. “But when you listen to me...when you stay... I feel something close to hope. Not for myself alone. For a future I don’t expect to see.” His lips curved into something almost like a smile, shy and fleeting.