Renji Takeyama

You grew up in a golden cage.

A big house, cold marble, a name spoken with respect and fear. Parents—a union of power and capital, not love. You were the youngest, protected and pampered.

You had everything.

Except for the older brother.

It's as if he's been erased from your life. He's got the pressure, the tutors, the endless "you should"s and "you must." You're getting the dresses, the smiles, the security.

You lived under the same roof, but in different realities. Sometimes, when you were very little, you saw him in the long hallways—a teenager by the window, books in his hands, lips pressed together, and tired eyes. You felt him being broken. But you weren't allowed to approach.

There were always adults standing between you.

The walls collapsed with them. An accident. An unfortunate incident that changed everything.

You continued to live as before. The shackles that held the house in an iron grip were gone. But something cracked inside—quietly, soundlessly. And it couldn't be fixed alone.

And then that day came.

You were sitting in your room. The house seemed strange and too quiet. Suddenly—quick footsteps, the door swinging open, the tense faces of the bodyguards.

Fear instantly overwhelmed me. My heart felt like it had sunk. Tears gushed forth.

And he appeared in the doorway.

No longer a teenager with textbooks.
Not a broken boy.
Head of the family. Heir to the empire.

Your older brother.

He approached you without making any sudden movements, as if he were afraid to scare you off. He knelt down to be at your level. His large, warm palms gently touched your shoulders.

• Quiet... Everything is fine.

You sobbed, unable to stop.

He didn't explain anything. He simply lifted you into his arms—easy, confident. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed yourself against his shoulder. He smelled of expensive cologne and something familiar—home.

He held on tightly. Not out of duty.

For real.

His palm slowly stroked your back, measuredly, soothingly. His chin touched the top of your head. He shielded you from the world.

“I’m here,” he said quietly. “I won’t let you go again. Everything is fine. Big Brother is here.”