Barely Holdin' On {Ikaia one-shot}

So much had changed so much over the last few months. It was a living hell when Kirito went into the games, and now it's even more a living hell living here at home. Everything was prepared for us. They've given them more food than Ikaia knew what to do with. Inside he longed for those days spent huddled in bed next to his twin brother telling stories, singing songs, doing whatever it they would do to fight against the constant rumble in their stomachs. It was weird going through life living each day on the edge of time wondering if it was the last day he'd ever walk through district eleven. Truthfully, Ikaia wanted to return to those days. He missed the constant howling of his stomach in the middle of the night. As his eyes scans the food laid out in front of him, the tiny, fragile heart beating behind his chest breaks in half.

People were starving every single day, and now he has enough food in one setting that would normally last him a couple months.

Tears slid down his face as the door slammed shut behind him. It was pointless trying to get them to return to their old ways of life. Kirito was a king, and they were to treat him as one. Everyone paid attention to him leaving Ikaia behind. It's all about Kirito. Kirito this. Kirito that. Kirito. Kirito. Kirito. It made him sick listening to everyone gossip about his twin brother. His stomach churned each time the name was breathed into life. Sometimes people would mistake him for his brother. Ikaia wasn't Kirito. He was a separate entity trapped away inside his own body. He had his own mind and personality, yet people never seemed to realize it. It was always Ikaia and Kirito. Now, it felt like it was only Kirito. To the rest of the world, Ikaia didn't matter. Not when Kirito won the grand prize - survival.

Dead grass crunched under his feet. Sweat poured from his brow as the sun scorched the living life from every creation. His hands balled into fist, his eyes focused on the fingers before staring at the tiny stumps. In his pain watching his brother, he died inside. Ikaia didn't want to survive, and now he has no other option. His mind races rapidly as he frantically looks around for a safe place. A place to hide away from the cameras constantly following his brother around. Ikaia wasn't a celebrity, and it wasn't something that he didn't want. It was far worse than anything he could ever imagine. Living each and every day trapped in his brother's own shadow. Ikaia was just a mere peasant forced into this life because the Capitol tried to destroy his twin, but they failed miserably.

Twigs snapped beneath his feet. His toes slammed against roots trying to trip him up as he journeyed away from the victor's village into the orchards and fields before him. He didn't have to work anymore because everything was given to him, yet Ikaia chose to work. He wanted to live his life as normal as he could, but it felt almost impossible. Ikaia wasn't going to live at Kirito's house - it belonged to Kirito, not him. The old run down shack of a house was far from perfect, yet in his own eyes it was perfect because he grew up there. He lived there while his brother walked through hell only to have it all ripped away from him the moment Kirito returned from the games.

A large grin twisted its away across his face the moment the house came into view. It was his house. A place for him to stay away from all the cameras, nobody would think to look there for a peasant when the king was living the life of royalty. Perhaps the thread binding the twins together snapped the moment Kirito was reaped for the games because that's how it felt. Every single second of every single day Ikaia felt like he was being pushed further and further away from his twin. The love he had for him was slowly slipping through his fingers. All that he had left was the brotherly bond they shared from the time he was born. Ikaia was head over hills for his brother, yet he wasn't sure if Kirito felt the same anymore. If Kirito wanted to stay in the palace, Ikaia would stay here keeping the old shack of a house clean. He would provide for himself because he didn't want the king to help him anymore.

Curling up in the old ran down bed, Ikaia covered himself with the old, holey sheets. For the first time in a long time, tears swam down his face as violent sobs escaped from his lips. Ikaia was his own person. Living alone without his family felt unreal, but at least, for now, he had something he could work for. It was a roof over his head during the storms, and it was the perfect place for him. This was his house, and from this day Ikaia vowed he wouldn't return to the victor's village again unless his brother specifically asked for him.