All it took was a plane crash, and Kise Ryota was no more.
Strangely enough, he didn't feel sadness, only regret. Regret for not checking his engine beforehand. Regret for missing out on his friends with his job as a pilot. Regret for not spending t...
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"Whoah, so this is what big brother looked like at seventeen-year-old," Fran stated as he walked around Mikaël's taller figure. His hands were stuffed in his Varia coat, while he kept his head tilted, a perfect deadpan etched on his face.
If plastic smiles, pretty words, and cheeriness were Mikaël's key points, then Fran's were his eternal poker face, bluntness, and dullness.
Ryota kept a sham smile on his face, though a bit stiff as he hadn't expected his little brother to be part of this business, he tried to keep his composure.
Fran hummed to himself. He brought a hand to his chin, as if deep in thoughts, though Ryota guessed he'd picked up this mannerism from one of his colleagues and was trying to copy them.
"Well," the teen drawled, his green eyes quickly looking at Mikaël up and down. "If you omit the wrinkles, white hair, and the annoyed look big brother usually has, I suppose nobody will notice a thing," he listlessly said, shaking his head from side to side as if defeated.
Ryota's eyebrow twitched. He wasn't clear on his future self's situation, but whether what he said was true or not didn't matter. The boy knew the older him wouldn't appreciate the compliments.
Fran stared at the golden-eyed teen for a few seconds, awaiting something. What? Ryota didn't know.
The teen with a frog hat pursed his lips, discontent, he frowned for a moment before his face went back to its default expression. "Ah, it truly isn't big brother," the Mist admitted, his tone betraying his reluctance. "Big brother would have scolded me long ago. How stupid, bottling it all up," he added, his green eyes looking at Mikaël with some pity.
Ryota's smile twitched. He didn't remember Fran being so blunt, almostrude. He sighed, unconsciously rubbing his temples in a circular motion as he tried to ease his nerves and forget the younger's words.
Fran observed, his dull eyes sharply overlooking the green's move before he spun on himself to walk away. "Too much bottling up is bad," he admonished. "You'll frown and then get wrinkles," he taught as he led the way out of the grand living room.
Behind him, Ryota sent the teen a dubious look, his lips twisted in a sneer. Whose fault is it that he's frowning?
The Varia Mist gave a long tired sigh as if utterly defeated and resigned to fate. "You should take example on me. I don't have a single wrinkle," he shamelessly boasted.
