Broken but not Unfixable {Ikaia+Kirito}

His heart races inside his chest pounding against the bone inside begging for an escape. Sweat pours from his brow as deformed hands wrap around the tools. Digging. Plowing. Harvesting. Working his life away just like he always wanted to. Forgotten in the trail of reality as his twin brother, Kirito runs free. How long had it been since the twins spoke to one another without the harsh, cruel words? It was his fault. Watching his brother march this through the games destroying people while Ikaia prayed for his brother's safe return, yet his safe return came with a price. Kirito was gone replaced by a new being. But who wouldn't change after fighting in a living hell?

His hair plastered against the back of his neck. It had grown quite shaggy over the last few months because cutting it felt like something only a coward would do. Ikaia wanted to speak words of wisdom. He wanted to hold his brother, to cuddle against him like they had done so many times growing up, but it was all gone. The life he once knew died when Kirito was crowned victor of the games. It was all gone. All shattered like a broken mirror, yet piece by piece Ikaia allowed himself to come to terms with it. Kirito was his own person, and he could love whoever he wanted, but it would never replace the gaping hole growing inside Ikaia's heart.

Tears swam down his eyes as he walked away from the fields for a small break placing his tools in the shed. It had been too long. Far too long. He wanted to talk to his brother. He wanted to hold him. To embrace him in a hug and never let go, but even touching him felt foreign like it never existed. A love that was once shared means nothing now. It's all gone. Every single memory that he once shared. His entire life crashed downward, but at least his brother was still alive. Many other families lost people during his games. Families were angry that Kirito had returned home, but that was all life became. Nobody cared. Nobody ever did anything. All that Ikaia had left was himself.

Dead grass crunched beneath his feet. Step by step his head swam with thoughts. Memories of his old life. Ikaia longed for his life to return to the old days, but he knew it was impossible. Every breath. Every second. All of it had changed, but one thing remained true inside his heart as he remembered the words he wrote so long ago. Ikaia would always love Kirito no matter what. Family has a bond that's formed, and a bond between twins held stronger than any bond he ever knew. Sighing to himself, he raised a hand wiping away his tears as he headed back to the shack of a house. Maybe Ikaia would go see Kirito in the victor's village one day, but for now it was best if he was left alone.

His stomach twisted as his eyes rested on his house. A place he called home because it was his home. It wasn't something created by the Capitol in order to serve as a constant reminder about what had happened, yet it was a roof over his head. Shelter in the midst of the storms. In his eyes his world was perfect. The door opened easily as he pressed against it, and on the counter exactly where he had left it was his masterpiece he was slowly creating for his brother. One to tell him he's sorry. One that would change his entire world forever. Perhaps it was a way for the twins to at least speak to each other once more. Maybe it would even draw them back together. Not as lovers, but as brothers.

Carefully removing it from the counter, he went to his room. It was in this room that he spent many days cuddled against his twin telling stories about while they distracted themselves from the constant rumble in their stomach. Many nights the twins went to sleep hungry, and now Ikaia was the only one who could ever understand it. Kirito had food shoved to him left and right. He could buy every pastry in the district, but whatever he had done with it was his own business. Ikaia didn't need the help of his brother to survive. He didn't need the gentle healer beside him as they journeyed through life together. No. Ikaia could survive on his own, but a part of him was always missing.

Removing the old sheet from the bed, he carefully wrapped the picture like a present. Soon Kirito would journey to the Capitol. He would return to the hell, but this time he was guaranteed to return alive, and Ikaia wanted his brother to know that he wasn't alone. That he would stand beside him every step of the way. Ikaia wanted to help him. He wanted to be with him. He wanted to stand beside him. He wanted the world to know that they were twins, yet it would never seem that way. Ikaia would always be a step behind his brother. He wasn't a king, but he wasn't a peasant either. Once the picture was carefully wrapped, Ikaia plopped down on the bed. Hanging his head in shame, silent sobs ricocheted throughout his entire body as he prayed Kirito would forgive him.