Pretty as a Flower, Fragile as One

by koliba

Summary:

Nine is given a gift by One. She is suspicious of it, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Surprisingly it doesn't.

Until it does. How naive she has been.

Notes:

If you ask One, they're on a perfect date <3

Nice things always come with jagged edges. Nine doesn't know why she was naive enough to believe this time it won't, to dare hope that there is a truly nice gesture her brother is capable of preforming with nothing attached to it. Laying here, staring at the once white petals now stained in red, wilting before her very eyes, makes her feels as if these flowers are her. She is wilting with them.

---

"Hello Nine," One greets her from the doorway to her room. Nine had not expected him, and even if she would have, the spike of anxiety in her chest would've rose with his appearance regardless. Unexpected visits, however, are even worse than expected.

"Hello, onii-sama," she greets with perfect composure, hiding her trembling limbs behind her back. One being here is never good news.

"Say Nine," he starts, inviting himself into her room. She stutters a step backwards as doors echo closed behind him, trapping them inside of Nine's own space. The thought is the opposite of comforting. "You like flowers, don't you?" he asks her with a smile. It doesn't reach his eyes and there's something unnatural about it. But this is how One always is.

The question surprises her. "I… I think I do," she answers with what she thinks One wants to hear, confused. She hasn't really thought of flowers much ever. They are pretty and they can smell nice, so she supposes she has to like them, no? She wouldn't feel negative if she got them, although she can't say she'd be particularly happy either. Is she supposed to be?

One cheerfully slaps his palms together. "Great," he tells her. "I have a gift for you. Would be a shame if you disliked it," he goes on. Nine can sense an underlying threat in his voice that someone, who hadn't been raised under his hand, might not sense, but that is how it always is with One. He is unsettling and he only ever works on the principle of doing what he is ordered to do regardless of who suffers because of him. Nine just can't help but wonder what do flowers have to do with father's plans.

"Here. For you," One tells her, extending the hand he's had in his pocket the entire time. A nameless, bland, white plastic bag hangs off his wrist that makes it impossible to tell what is inside. Anxiety sparks inside Nine, but she has no choice in the matter. With a pounding heart and every suppressed instinct screaming at her to turn away, she steps forward, reaching for the bag concealing whatever One had brought. Her hand brushes his as he slides the plastic into her palm. He is warm, she notes. And alive. And yet it still feels as if her elder brother is just a reanimated corpse. Unfeeling. Lacking understanding. Suffocating and oppressing her with no awareness of it.

Inside of the bag there's fabric. Carefully she reaches for it, to inspect what is it that he had brought her. She hopes this isn't one of the humiliation games her siblings like to play on her, that she won't be forced into some weird, degrading outfit, and get toyed around with.

What she unravels is surprisingly normal. It's a pretty light blue dress matching her hair with a flower pattern printed on it. It's on the hem of the skirt, dark blue flowers curling upwards in tandem towards where her hips would be, would she wear it. It looks really nice and it feels great to the touch. Maybe it was expensive, but it is not as if Nine can tell or as if money is an issue for One.

"Do you like it?" One asks her, all smiles and eyes boring into her soul.

Like it? Between like and dislike she knows what she should pick, but she doesn't really know how to feel. She stares at the dress and then at him. "Is this… This is for me?" she hesitantly asks, clutching it to her chest. A dress? For her? She doesn't even wear dresses and it isn't time yet to refill her closet with necessities. This- this dress isn't a necessity. So why would One…?

"Yes!" he cheers, tilting his head to the side. "I saw it and thought it would look good on you, so I am giving it as a gift. Do you like it?" he repeats himself.

"I do," she confirms, looking down at it bashfully. Is this really for her? Just for her for no reason? A gift because it would look pretty on her? She never really gets gifts of any kind, not without ulterior motifs.

Her mood falters. "Onii-sama," she calls him, "what do you need from me?"

One blinks at her in what could almost be called confusion. "Need?" he asks in the way a loyal dog would. "I don't need anything from someone like you, Nine."

Despite how many times she had faced words crueller than this, the dismissive comment still stings her. "Then what is the dress for?"

"Nothing. A gift from me to you."

Nine doesn't believe him. There is no way One would have ever given her something nice for no reason. Yet simultaneously, why would he lie to her? He does not need to lie to Nine, if he wants her to do something she will have to regardless of what she thinks of it. This is how it has always been.

Regardless of how confusing it is, she doesn't argue. "Thank you," she properly replies instead, folding the dress in her hands and gently putting it back into the plastic bag to put it away.

A large hand grips her wrist, stopping her mind motion. "What are you doing?"

She looks up at One, a smile still plastered on his face, just as unnerving with no deviation. "I am putting it away."

"Put it on."

Nine hesitates. What? "Why?" she asks. She can't tell what One's plan is and looking at him only unsettles her more. His hand is still on her, squeezing her wrist tighter.

"Because I want to see you in it."

"Now?"

"Yes."

A weird sense of humiliation crawls up Nine's spine. So this hadn't been a nice gift for her after all. One wants something in return and she feels so stupid for feeling excited. "Can I go to the bathroom then?" she asks in defeat, hoping for this small mercy.

It is this request that snaps One's smile of his face and the air turns heavy from oppression. She is yanked closer in an instant, stumbling over her feet. "No. Change here."

Nine's heart beats faster as she shrinks in on herself. One's eyes bore into her soul as if she is naked beneath him, the grip around her wrist turning painful. She swallows. "Yes, onii-sama."

One's smile is back in place. "That's right. That's a good girl," he praises her. It doesn't feel good.

They stand there, silent, a few arduous seconds passing by. She waits for him to let her go, but One is merely staring at her face. Carefully Nine requests, "Please let go of me."

Her brother tilts his head. "Hm?" His gaze falls on her wrist wedged by his grip, fingers flexing alongside her skin, gripping her like shackles, and then he promptly releases her. "Go on," he tells her, backing off merely a step. She is stood in front of him like a private display. Nothing Nine is unused to.

She takes the dress back out of the plastic bag to carefully lay it on her bed, but One's extended hand stops her. "Give it here," he tells her and she complies.

One holds the dress and carelessly throws the plastic bag away, letting it flutter to the ground, the only out of place display in Nine's pristine room. It is glaring proof of his disturbance, of his infringement on her mental state and yet there is nothing she can do about it. Just let him watch with the dress draped across his forearm.

Nine turns away from One, scraping for what little privacy she can to undress. Not that it matters much what she wants. She struggles with her clothing. She's deliberately stalling, pulling down the standard uniform-like plain skirt she has on top of pants. She doesn't like wearing it, but has to regardless. It exposes too much, it lets her siblings touch too easily and she feels unsafe, so she had begun carrying shorts underneath a while ago, just as plain in colour but at least somewhat more comforting. It is what she pulls off next.

"Why are you hiding?" One asks her, but it is not a demand to turn around, so she dares to ignore it.

Bit by bit she strips, ridding herself of socks, her shirt, her gloves, until she is left standing just in her panties, back turned to One. She tries hiding to the best of her ability, as pointless as it is. Immediately all of it is ruined by her big brother.

One places his hands on Nine's shoulder and spins her around. She stands there, hands clutched together in front of her chest with discomfort brewing inside her. No matter how often she is seen completely naked, she doesn't like being stared at like this. Least of all by One.

"You're wearing the panties I got you," One comments. He does sometimes help get new clothes for the siblings when they're in need of replacements and has done so for Nine, despite not needing to. These had indeed came from One, plain white with only a little bow in front as decoration. She doesn't understand why he sounds rather pleased.

One grabs the dress he had been holding and holds it up for Nine. He reaches inside of it, grabs at the hems and signals Nine to put her hands up. Obediently she listens, giving One display to almost her entire body before he dutifully covers it up with the dress. His fingers brush against her hair, stick to her shoulder blades, skim her skin as he pats the dress down, adjusts it a little, and steps back to observe.

Nine must admit it is a rather pretty dress. It suits her frame well, hugging her tightly around her chest and hips while the rest of it cascades freely up to her knees. Her shoulders are completely exposed, something she is unused to, but surprisingly she doesn't hate it.

"Turn around, let me see."

She complies, glancing over her shoulder. One is examining her appearance, hands hovering around her frame yet not touching.

"You look so cute, I'm glad I bought it. Come," he says, grabbing her shoulders and steering her towards her door. "Lets go find a mirror."

She doesn't protest, just lets One direct her wherever he wants to. He lets go of her to open and close the doors to her room. Nine knows where One wants them to go and wants to head on without him, but he grabs her wrist and then slips his hand in hers, as if she is still a little child needing to be led. They walk on the long hallway like this, Nine's bare feet padding against the cold, hard floor while One's sneakers echo, passing the bathroom right next to her room she had thought they were heading to and keep on going in the familiar, dreadful direction. With every step they take Nine's heart tightens and her vision blurs. The doorway opens up before her, feeling impossibly large.

"Why are you gripping me so painfully?"

She is startled out of her thoughts, looking up at the man beside her. He stares at her curiously, not a hint of pain present on his features despite his fingers getting crushed by her grasp. She immediately lets go, slipping free from his touch. "Nothing, I…" she swallows, voice losing her, "don't know…"

One drops the topic and opens the door to his room. It is a space Nine had rarely been to, but it had never been a good thing when she had to come here. His room is the most luxurious room among all the siblings, triple the size of hers, furnished with tasteful modernistic items that must've cost obscene amounts, a huge bed that could comfortably fit four grown Ones on it, a technological setup and some training equipment; basically the room is probably only lesser to father's. It is not as if she would know, she had never been permitted near her father's rooms throughout her life. By comparison, her room is barren, only containing necessities, yet somehow, despite it's size and grandeur, much like hers, One's room looks and feels impersonal.

There is some training equipment laying on the floor, but to Nine One's room carries association less with training and more so with punishment. It is when she earns punishment for being a failure or for disobeying, that One gets to take her here. Sometimes she doesn't even know what she had done, but if One was sent to collect her, than it was surely something she had deserved.

"Did I do something wrong?" she dares to ask, voice shaky despite not wanting it to be. Her eyes are locked on the floor, staring at the small gaps in the dark hardwood, not having the courage to meet the inhumane irises of her elder brother head on.

"No. Do you think you did?"

Nine shakes her head.

"So you didn't then," he dismisses so easily, as if Nine hadn't suffered at his hand, her input going ignored, countless of times. "Come look at yourself."

She supposes she has to be grateful that this time One seems to not be in the mood to hurt or humiliate her. It does make breathing easier and she is no longer cowardly staring downwards with her heart in her throat. Instead she walks towards One's closet as he opens it, revealing a mirror plastered across the interior of the entire wardrobe door.

Her breath gets stuck in her throat and awe consumes her. The dress fits her perfectly, colours complimenting her blue hair and eyes. She slowly turns to the right and then to the left, watching the dress flutter with her movements. A strong urge to spin around takes a hold of her, to stand on her tiptoes and flutter around in the mirror, but she stuffs it down as One's own reflection stares at her, oppressively poised behind. He takes up the rest of the space of the mirror, baby blues of his sweater surrounding her as if they're trying to swallow her up. Immediately the joy on her face is extinguished.

One leans over her shoulder, resting his chin on her and tilting his head like an observant dog. His exhale, sending goosebumps all over her, tickles Nine's skin. In the mirror, they make eye contact. "Do that again."

"Do what?"

"Your face. It was… " One trails off, unable to articulate his thoughts. His hands come to wrap around Nine's middle, resting there in an embrace. "So pretty," he breaths into her ear, eyes shining with a glint Nine had never seen them take on before.

She can't tell what he is talking about, so she keeps quiet. In front of that mirror they stand, her frozen in place, waiting for One to make a move, do anything but stare at her like a statue with an unsettling expression Nine can't read, arms tight around her frame. Her heart beats nervously as her eyes flicker away from the mirror uncertainly, looking down at the rougher and larger palms intervened in her middle, covering most of her stomach. He could so easily pick her up or hold her down and she would be helpless to stop him, as always.

The warm presence against her back retreats, arms releasing her as one steps away. "Come," he tells her, extending his hand for Nine to grab.

Puzzled, she obeys, letting him take her palm, and asks, "Where?"

"It's a surprise," he cheerfully answers and elaborates no further. He leads her back on the hallway towards the staircases where Nine starts to worry. Are they going to another sibling? To father? Somewhere else? She isn't dressed appropriately.

"Onii-sama," she pipes up eventually, anxiety brewing inside her. One glances at her over his shoulder. "I am barefoot," she reminds him and they immediately stop.

She is also cold, on top of it all. Her feet feel dirty from threading across the hallway with nothing on them and the summer dress doesn't hide the chill within their home. Couldn't she change back to her outfit now?

"Wait for me here," One tells her, taking her by surprise, his hand slipping from hers. "I will be right back."

He heads in fast strides back to where they came from as Nine is forced to mingle right there, waiting in confusion on an open hallway right in front of-

"What the hell are you wearing?"

- Eight's room. She turns to him, the door ajar with him standing in the doorway, furrowed brows and an annoyed face glaring at her. He looks idle, sporting a different outfit than what she's used to seeing him in. It's less flashy, just a simple white tank-top and plain, black tracksuit pants.

"Hello, Eight onii-sama," she greets him. He looks sweaty, as if he had been in the middle of training in his own room. "It is a dress," she answers rather obviously.

Eight sneers at her with disdain. "What, why are you parading about with that outfit? Is it not enough you're a failure, you also have to be a whore?"

Nine steps back, the words hitting her square in the chest. "A whore?" She mousily echoes. All of her sexual experiences are limited to her siblings or father and none of them were ever initiated by her. On top of it she hasn't even gone all the way with anyone, as if it will ever be her choice who it happens with. She never has any say in anything. How does that make her a whore?

It stings.

Weirdly enough, Eight blushes and explodes on her. "Look at yourself!" he yells, accusatory, pointing his hand at her chest. He jabs it in painfully, right between her breasts, and then promptly shuts his mouth. He stares at her chest, at his finger still achingly digging against her bone as Nine stares at him.

Suddenly he startles, pulling away as if burned. He clears his throat, eyes flickering to hers and then looking elsewhere, finding interest in anything but her. "What are you doing here?" he mumbles, considerably quieter than before with cheeks still warm. It is harder to see it on his darker complexion, but Nine is pretty sure he is still blushing, embarrassed.

"I'm waiting for One onii-sama."

He looks up, incredulous and accusatory. "Looking like this?"

"He told me to put it on."

"What!?" Eight clenches his fists, a contorted expression settling over his features. "So you dress up for One, but not for me?" he angrily spits.

Nine blinks at him as Eight slaps his own mouth shut, horrified. She is confused what this is even about, so she carefully dares to ask, "What?"

"Forget it."

She meekly defends herself. "He gave me the dress."

"I said forget it!"

"Eight onii-sama-"

Eight strides back into his room, rage emitting off him. She steps after him, hand outstretched, but he slaps it away. "Get raped by him for all I care!" he yells at her face and then slams the door. Nine is left standing there, waiting, her forearm aching from the slap and her chest tight in suffocating hurt.

Did she do something wrong again?

She gently knocks on the door and receives no answer. She hesitates, maybe Eight hates her so much he really wants nothing to do with her, but it doesn't feel right to not try to appease him. So she knock again. "I'm sorry," she says, despite not knowing what she is apologising for. It hurts being treated like this, so she hopes Eight will accept it regardless of what she had done to upset him. However, as usual, she gets ignored.

"What are you apologising for?"

Nine turns her head around at the familiar voice and spots One. He's carrying her discarded socks and a pair of outdoor sneakers. She is not sure how well they go along with the blue dress as she has no fashion sense, but it doesn't matter as long as she can put something back on her feet. Surprisingly enough she notices One had dressed differently while he was gone. He had swapped out his shoes for a pair he uses outside and he looks a bit more elegant with a change of pants and style. His undershirt had changed too, she notes, no longer a normal t-shirt but a really revealing black one, something closer to a tank top maybe. One always looks good, but Nine admits he looks even better now. Where is he taking her to dress this way?

"One onii-sama, I, uhm," she stammers. One merely tilts his head. "I was talking to Eight onii-sama."

"What did you do?"

She looks at the ground, shame and guilt washing over her. "I'm not sure…"

Fingers brush over her chin, warm and rough, before tilting it up, having her be eye level with One who had bent over to face her. "Then why are you apologising?" he asks simply. He says it so matter-of-factly that Nine questions for a moment whether or not he is right and she had been misguided her entire life.

Her eyelids tremble, verging on tears she desperately pushes down, replying in a pathetically wobbly voice, "I upset him."

One observes her, his unnerving eyes staring at her, the grey irises made so much worse by the white cross placed in them, dissecting her, "You upset people often, don't you?"

Nine doesn't respond. It is pointless, they both know it is the truth. She just wishes One would let her look away, anywhere else but at his face, at his soul.

He smiles, wide and toothy and weird. "Eight will get over it," he releases her chin and straightens up. "Or he won't. Who cares, really?"

Nine cares. But as always, what does it matter if she does?

Her brother kneels in front of her, taking her by surprise. He's leaning on one knee, poised as a knight in those fairy tales as he puts down Nine's shoes, with socks stuffed in them, by her feet. He reaches for her left ankle, grabs it with no words exchanged and lifts Nine's leg up. The dress gently slides to the side, revealing more of her pale, white skin. Somehow One's is even paler, contrasting fingers against her ankle and toes as he holds her foot. He reaches for one of her socks, white sole slightly dirtied by the use, about to put it on.

"Wait, onii-sama, my feet are dirty!" Nine stops him mid motion. One lifts her foot higher, leans lower, turns her sole to his face to see lightly blackened skin caused by dust strewn across the floor. The hem of Nine's dress slides completely to her hips, leaving her whole leg naked and One in direct position where his eyes can stare at her underwear. Embarrassingly enough she flushes, the urge to grab the blue fabric and pul it lower overwhelming, but she dares not to. She waits out the few seconds, like a good girl, until One gently puts her foot down and picks up her footwear again.

"Let's go wash up," he tells her as he stands up and herds her to the nearest bathroom, the one usually occupied by Eight. Every sibling among them has a personal bathroom they can monopolise, Nine included, and this one is Eight's. It's bigger than hers, but looks relatively the same. Outside of Eight's personal items organised on available surfaces she wouldn't be able to tell it's his, unlike some of their other siblings, who poses more extravagant tastes. Eight is relatively simple in that regard. It does, however, smell like him.

"Sit on the bathtub," One orders her. Nine listens, awkwardly adjusting herself against the unfamiliar marble, pressing coldly against her thigh. One carelessly grabs after a towel hanged on the ladder radiator and wets it in the sink with no regard for Eight. Nine knows it is one of his favourites and he'd hate seeing it used this way, but One has never cared for such trivialities. He comes to Nine, kneeling again with the intent to wipe her feet clean.

Nine shifts, and relaxes. It is always fastest this way, letting others do what they want with her with no complaints or struggle. But unlike usual, where her well-being is most often disregarded, One is gentle. His touch is tender, cupping her sole, and pressing the wet towel against her toes. It surprises her that it's warm, that One had thought of her comfort over something so small. It makes her feel warm too, and a little bashful. She isn't used to such gentleness.

She flexes her toes, flinches as One moves between them, towel and finger sliding along the crevice. He's awfully attentive to it, the opposite of what she had expected. It feels rather nice.

"Your feet are so small," One comments. Nine hadn't really thought much about it, but looking at herself now, One's hands dwarf her easily. If he wanted to he really could just grab her ankle as if his fist is a shackle, restrain her, abuse her, own her. Instead she has him at her feet, a mop of white hair under which grey eyes peer at her.

One can do whatever he wants to her with Nine being helpless about it, at his complete mercy, and yet he had chosen to gift her a present, to touch her gently. She dares let traitorous hope bloom within her chest. Maybe, if the flowers are truly just for her and no one else, she is happy to receive them. If anything thoughtful would be given to her, no matter how small, it might become her favourite. She runs her fingers across the blue fabric draped over her body and smiles.

Abruptly Nine is torn from the moment, yanked downwards by her wrist so she nearly loses her balance. One is staring at her as a wild animal would, eyes wide and breathing rough, pressing closer and closer until she scoots so far to the side her back presses against a wall, trapped. Fear strikes her then and there, fear and confusion as her happiness melts away. She waits for One to make a move, frozen as his free hand comes up, cupping her cheek, wet fingers sending a chill down her spine that makes her feel so much smaller. He's looming above her, as a predator, while she is merely a little prey of his, backed into a corner.

"Don't cry, Nine," One tells her, voice rough around the edges, thumb wiping at her eye. She hadn't even noticed tears had bubbled to the surface under the pressure, but it is undeniable feeling the unmistakable wetness One swipes away. Like a lamb she trembles before him and like a wolf he dominates the space surrounding her.

One stares at her for a moment, her breath caught in her throat, and puts the wet thumb in his mouth, tasting her emotions. He smiles, deranged, and then lets it fall to a frown. He kneels again, cupping her face, careful and slow, yet Nine still flinches before his touch. "Bring it back."

He says it so earnestly Nine is scrambling to oblige. If only she knew what he's talking about.

"A smile suits you so much better."

"Smile?" she echoes. She doesn't think herself capable of smiling at this moment. "You… you scared me." She sounds hurt to her own ears.

"I didn't mean to," One admits, leaning closer with an expression that for once isn't utterly unreadable and warped in smiles. It is a first for Nine. "Sorry, Nine."

He hugs her. His arms wrap around her frame and he leans forward, into her personal space. His hair tickles her cheek, blocking half of her vision, the rest of it consumed by his frame. Her hands are frozen mid air, legs rigid as he dwarfs even that. He feels larger than life like this, embracing her and consuming her whole, as if he is a tide she is helpless to try and swim against.

She doesn't get hugged often. No one hugs her, really. It feels… it feels so nice. Warm and kind and… and safe. One never makes her feel safe. Is he…? This time, for real, is he genuine or is the touch meant to hurt her later?

Dazed by both confusion and emotional whiplash, Nine almost chases the warmth when it pulls away. How childish.

Her brother, ignorant to her inner turmoils, or perhaps all too aware of them, grabs her arms, pats them, and then kneels back down to her shoes, treating whatever just happened as nothing, and even though she knows it is silly to get hung up on it, she can't help herself. It was so warm. And nice. No added words jabbing at her, reminding her she doesn't really deserve anything nice.

"Let's get going now, alright?"

Nine doesn't contest his will and sits obediently, lost in her mind as he flawlessly dresses the rest of here in a matter of seconds. When he's done he grabs her hand and pulls her up. She lets him do that too, watches him carelessly throw the wet towel over the sink for Eight to deal with, before heading of with her. Unlike before he intertwines their fingers, slotting his bigger digits in between hers and doesn't let go at all. Not even when he stops by a robot to collect a basket filled with something Nine can't see, nor when they're already outside, in the public, heading who knows where. He keeps his hold on her as any dutiful brother would, taking care their sibling doesn't get lost and in trouble, but they both know that is merely a facade. Nine hasn't needed hand-holding in a while and the only time it has been offered to her had been out of mockery. This time One doesn't mock her at all.

Their home disappears from their sight as One leads her further. People start disappearing too and soon Nine finds herself completely alone with him, entering what looks to be a rural area. It is strange to her where they are going, until she recognises the area. It is a property privately owned by her father that she hadn't utilised often. But when she was younger One had occasionally taken her here and trained with her.

"Are we not here to train?" she asks him eventually as they bypass the section filled with both stadiums and training equipment.

"No."

What else could One possibly want her for?

The man-made space quickly gives way to nature. Grassland forms beneath her feet with paths leading among the trees, as some giant, private park. It is neatly upkept but not obsessively mowed. The grass reaches just above her ankles, tickling her, and the fields of grassland are covered in flowers. The more wild kind, the type Nine doesn't get to ever see. She stands there for a moment, gawking in awe at how pretty this small secluded corner is with no people in sight besides them, with birds chirping overhead, trees rustling, plants dancing in the wind sweeping through the grassland and treetops. It sweeps through her dress too, gently swaying it, lifting it slightly, and biting the chill into her bones.

She shivers and One notices. "Are you cold?"

"A little," she admits. If One was intent on taking her outside, shouldn't he have brought her at least a hoodie or a sweater, like he has for himself?

That thought is cut short by One as he lets go of her, takes off his sweater and drapes it across Nine's shoulders. She stares up at him, taken off guard, and swiftly grabs after the fabric to not let One's grace slip off her frame. It radiates warmth and hides her chilly skin from the breeze as One now stands in merely a shirt before her.

"I- Onii-sama," she stutters. "Won't you be cold now?"

"I won't."

Nine puts on the sweater properly. It is way too big on her, sleeves covering her whole palms and then some, the length of it matching the length of her dress. She merely pulls the sleeves up enough to wriggle her fingers free again as she burrows herself in the rest of the warm fabric. It smells like One, she notes. Unsurprisingly, a pleasant, subtle scent, but so familiarly his.

"Is it warmer?"

She nods shyly, hiding her face in his collar.

They move along again. One steers them off the pathway and on the grassland. It tickles her whenever a plant manages to reach her skin, but it feels nice. Nine doesn't go out in nature like this often, she doesn't have the time, so it enamours her greatly.

One sets his basket down by a tree as Nine stands there, looking around. There are flowers at her feet and she crouches down to pet one, trace the petals of various different species. There's many yellow and white ones, and there is even a blue one at her feet. She is not familiar with any of their names, as such information is redundant to her purpose and education. In this moment, however, she wishes she could put a name to them.

There's an ant colony traversing around, extending from the ground at her feet and all the way up the tree trunk. A little squirrel is hiding in the branches, brown and fluffy, eating something Nine can't really see. She's fascinated, feels the urge to reach after her, climb the tree or fly up there and take the little critter in her hands, even though she knows that coming closer will just scare it away. Knowing she can't just extend her arms, catch the wind and fly up in the air, makes her feel caged. She longs for something impossible.

"Come, Nine," One calls her, breaking her out of her wistful desires. She snaps her head towards him, sees him seated on a beige blanket he has laid beneath the tree. Part of it is covered in shade, part of it is exposed to the sun and all of it looks awfully idyllic. The woven basket One had been carrying around is placed by his side, still full of things Nine can't yet discern. It looks like food. It all looks like a picturesque picnic from a children's book. Something so normal it feels out of place to be here, to see One here.

She walks towards him, observes and notices he had taken off his socks and shoes before sitting on the blanket. She follows his example, arranging the shoes on the grass, pushing her socks in them and then sitting down on her end of the blanket.

It's awkward and she's rigid, not knowing what she's supposed to do. Just sit there and enjoy it? Watch the flowers in the meadow and the bugs that occasionally fly around? Is One expecting some kind of a reaction from her?

One suddenly leans into her, arm wrapping around her shoulders as he says into her ear, "Come closer." He pulls her towards himself and she obliges with am embarrassing yelp, scrambling to his side through his pulling. She's pressed against him now with his arm still around her, urging her to lean on his body. His chest is hardened from both bone and muscle training and kind of uncomfortable to lean on, but at least he is warm.

They sit like this for a while in complete silence. Nine is a nervous wreck, trying to enjoy the view but failing due to both forced proximity and One's presence in general. Her palms are sweaty and she feels hotter than she should be feeling, heart rapidly beating in her chest. One absentmindedly rubs her arm, petting her through his sweater until he grows bored of it and starts playing with her hair instead. He tugs Nine's rubber band loose to let her hair fall freely, tangling his fingers in her locks and threading through them.

"You should wear your hair loose," he comments.

"It's inconvenient."

One looks at her, leans over her frame. She looks up at him. "That's fine." He tugs on her hair slightly. "Wear it loose just for me then."

"Yes, onii-sama."

Her brother smiles at her. He looks pleased by that answer and so very human in this moment. Pretty, is the word that shoots through Nine's mind. Handsome maybe. He looks much better this way, when she can actually tell what he is feeling. And it isn't that bad feeling his hand gently thread her hair.

One moves suddenly. Nine leans away from him, observing as he shifts himself to lay down on the blanket fully. He lays on his back, looks up at her and then grabs her hand. "Lay with me," One tells her, pulling her closer again. She lays down next to him, her hand intertwined with her brother's. One rolls over on his hip and she follows suit, facing each other, seeing the scary excitement brew within One.

"Isn't this nice?"

"It is," Nine admits.

One reaches out with his free arm and pulls her closer, right up flush with his body. He tangles their legs together too, so every part of Nine is consumed by him. His hand is hooked around her hips, she's chest to chest with him, eyes blown wide. She can feel the gentle tickle of a breath against her cheek from the proximity and see the utter insanity that brews within One's eyes.

"Nine, you know you're mine, don't you?" he asks suddenly. She has no idea what he is talking about. "You're finally old enough, so it's my right, as the eldest, to claim you first," One clarifies poorly, his grip on her tightening.

Claim her? How?

"You like me, right?"

She hesitantly nods. She wouldn't dare say otherwise anyways.

"If you wouldn't, it would be okay too. I'd make you."

A chill runs down Nine's spine. She feels trapped at once, the urge to pull away overtaking her. Naturally, One doesn't let her. He rolls over, right on top of her, and pins her limbs down beneath him. His thighs are around her hips as he straddles her into submission.

"One onii-sama, what…?"

"I made it nice for you. I took care to ask and to put in the effort. Do you like what I've given you, Nine?"

She remains staring at him, unable to respond.

"The dress. The flowers. Us." His smile is sharp as a shark's. "Alone."

The wind sweeps down on them, tousling Nine's hair into her face. It makes it hard to see One's face, cast in shadows, features sliced by her blind spots. He feels as danger would, incomplete yet imminent. He reaches over, hand looming closer and closer, yet Nine can do nothing but let the jaws of terror close in on her. She is frozen useless.

One swipes her hair away from her face, gently tucking it behind her ear. He's closer now, face leaning towards her, coming nearer and nearer.

"You're so pretty," he breaths into her open mouth. Nine trembles. It is only then that she realises her hands are no longer pinned down by a painful grip. All she does with her useless limbs is twitch numbly before One closes in.

Nine is used to her body not really being hers. She knows touches from her siblings and father she isn't allowed to avoid. Yet still, no one had ever done this to her. Lips to her lips, face so close that she shuts her eyes in discomfort. It's forced and wet and weird, mouth shifting against her unresponsive lips as she's made to feel every bit of sensation. Her fingers dig into the blanket and desperately fist it.

The uncomfortable sensation stops suddenly. She's breathing heavily, upset, but she dares not open her eyes. Maybe if she pretends hard enough, it will all go away.

"Open your mouth," One orders. She doesn't want to. She opens it anyway.

This time everything is different. One grabs her jaw and forces her in a better angle to just slot himself against her, pushing his tongue in. It is slimy and weird and uncomfortable, it tastes indescribable, really, like One. Nine doesn't like it and doesn't know what exactly is happening. Her brother is invading her mouth, brushing against her teeth and poking against her tongue. It feels violating.

She feels nauseous.

It is too much. She finally gets her useless self to move, opening her eyes, hands shooting to One's chest to push him away. Of course it is futile, her strength negligible in face of One's. Consequently frustration boils inside of her, everything hitting her at once as hot tears bubble to the surface and a choked sound dies in her throat. Desperately she bites down on One's tongue to cause pain she is sure One can easily tolerate, but it causes him to pull off in surprise.

"Onii-sama, stop," she begs him, pitiful. She doesn't know what she looks like, laid like this beneath him with One's sweater slipping off her shoulders, but she knows it is pathetic.

One tilts his head, as if it is a game and her discomfort exists just for him to observe her, a wild animal in his cage. "Why?"

Because she's scared. Because it is new and uncomfortable. Because it disgusts her. Because she simply just- "I don't want this!" she screams. For once in her life, Nine screams at her brother.

"Yes you do."

"No I don't!"

"Then I'll make you."

"You can't- you can't just make me!" Nine chokes out, near hysteric.

"What can I do then, hm?" One hums, taking her trembling hand into his and pressing a kiss against the back of it. "Do you want me to be gentler?" he asks her, lips still against her skin before they turn into a grin. He grabs her hard, forces her beneath him and bites her neck. "Or rougher?"

"Gentler, gentler," Nine desperately pleads, the sting on her skin only a prelude of what One is intent on doing. If he wants to touch her then she'd really prefer he is kind to her through it. Whatever it is he wants.

"Then you can't keep pushing me away, Nine. It makes me sad," he cooes without a hint of sadness.

She swallows, but doesn't respond further. There is no point in it. She lays there, useless, tears streaming down her cheeks and hoping One won't make it hurt the way he can make it. That he'll touch her intimately, as he is intent on doing, and at least make it not hurt, despite how violating it all feels.

One moves, no longer pinning her down at all. Now he spreads her legs, sits between them as his hand moves all across her body. She is tense, dreading the moment they roam off her dress and under her naked skin. His touch is gentle, true to his word, petting her arms, slowly moving up until he's no longer near his own sweater, but hooking his fingers under the strap that is holding the dress on her body. He pulls it up, snaps it, reaches under, hand moving dangerously low towards her breasts but not quite there regardless. Her breathing quickens, lungs expanding from anything but pleasure and want. She waits for him to breach lower, fondle her intimately, but instead One leaves her hanging, pulling his hands away from her skin to rub down her hips. He does it through the dress, slowly petting her, each movement of his nudging Nine's dress closer and closer to showing her underwear. She is splayed beneath him as a painted canvas would be, still, unchanging, pretty yet dead. Nonparticipating. She wishes she really was merely a painting frozen in time, free from the concept of choice and knowing it was never meant for her grasp.

"Don't look so gloomy," One tells her, joyous. "We are about to unite as one, you know? It'll be the best thing you have ever experienced."

It will be the worst thing she has ever experienced.

His hands finally grow bold. He grabs her thighs, squeezes them, how impossibly small they look in his palms, and then slides up under Nine's dress. He pets her there too, rubs the area in ways Nine is all too familiar with. Pleasurable touch meant to humiliate her, tell her how she wants it all and is merely a slut in denial. But One never calls her those words. When he hurts, he does it more personally. His words stab directly where it hurts most and sting places Nine never thought could be stung.

He lifts her dress, pushing it up her stomach. Her bellybutton lays exposed to the air, his fingers trailing her navel. He plays there for a while, making Nine uncertain whether he's planning to reach for her chest or for her crotch, fingers teasing both the thin string of her panties and the edge of her breasts. Finally One decides, swiftly reaching under the blue fabric and fondling her flat chest.

Nine holds back a whimper and turns her head away, eyes fluttering shut. It doesn't feel good getting groped. It never has, if she is being honest, it has always just felt mildly uncomfortable and humiliating. She had thought this time it won't be any different, her chest only used for whatever little pleasure One gets from touching her, but instead of quickly moving on from it, her brother is persistent. He keeps on kneading, gently squeezing, rubbing, petting her small breasts. He's precise, working with persistency that leaves Nine's nipples hardening and a tingling sensation developing within them. It feels weird, the need to wiggle away from the touch pulsing within her, but she is completely immobilised by One's weight. She merely hopes he will grow disinterested soon and let her go.

One pushes her dress the rest of the way up, completely uncovering her body to his eyes, but what startles her from her hopeless state of tightly shutting her eyes in false pretences, is a warm, wet sensation on her. She gasps, hands flailing alive just to grab on One and make eye contact with him. She is frozen, staring at those dead, inhumane eyes as One's tongue licks her, as he puts her nipple in his mouth and toys with it, sucks on her skin. All throughout it he keeps his eyes on her and she keeps his eyes on him.

Her face flames up. This is new. No one has done this to her before and it feels so weird. It makes her tingle. It makes her squirm. It tickles yet also sends something inexplicable coursing throughout her whole body and she wants nothing more but to kick One off herself, wrap herself up in the dress and his sweater to then run away.

Unfortunately for her, she had never stood any chance of holding the reins.

One licks and sucks, trying to get good use out of her petite breasts. He plays with the other one with his hand, distracting Nine until she feels a sudden touch inside her underwear. One had put his free hand to work too, pushing directly inside of her last article of protective clothing and slipping his fingers between her pussy lips. She jumps in his arms, spine jolting both in surprise and pleasure of which a slight spark has ignited as his fingers graze her clit. One pays her struggle no mind, just keeps on going with his motions, both hands diligently working against her body.

Nine can't take it anymore. She pushes One's face off her chest. "Onii-sama, please don't," she pleads to him.

He peers at her from the corner of his eye, head at an awkward angle Nine has pushed him into. "I want to."

"I don't," she dares to protest.

One sweeps her hands away and straightens up. "So?"

She shuts her mouth. Despair bubbles within her. It is exactly as One says, so what if she feels this way, and it will remain so until the day she dies.

One grins at her, leaning over, one hand digging into her pussy, the other bracing his weight by her head. He lowers himself to her face. "Nine, you can't hide from me like this," he tells her, rubbing a finger against her clit. Despite how much she doesn't want it, low pleasure starts pooling inside her guts. "Your body is mine after all. Let's just enjoy it together, alright?" He tells her against her ear. His breath tickles, uncomfortable, and makes Nine squirm.

Seemingly satisfied One picks himself off her, removes his oppressive presence squashing her down both physically and mentally. He is looming right in front, seated between her legs with a hand in her underwear.

"What a gorgeous view I have," he compliments, eating Nine up with his eyes. They invade, they conquer, and somehow she feels more naked, half undressed beneath him, than if she had actually been stripped bare by him. Maybe a part complicit in this feeling is his hand, hidden inside her clothes that were meant to give her privacy, and yet he is still able to breach it effortlessly. Maybe it is the fact that everything she wears is owned by One, given or lent to her by him. His panties. His dress. His sweater. She's surrounded by him, by his smell, laying against his clothes, her arms hidden within his sleeves. It is as if she had given him the right after all, enveloped by his gifts to maker herself a gift for him.

One starts moving his fingers. He rubs and kneads and plays with her in languid motions, building up familiar pressure in her stomach area that she had been privy to often. Her siblings touch her there sometimes, so does her father, but no one as prominently nor persistently as One. Usually all others seek in her is their own pleasure, so she has to be the one touching to bring it out, not the other way around.

Now, however, there are no expectations. All she has to do is lay there and let One do as he pleases. Let him however right above her, stare at her face while he's rubbing her 'special place' in circular motions. It feels good, despite it all, and arousal pools within her guts.

"That's right," One murmurs, voice rougher than usual. "Get wet for me."

With dread Nine realises that that's exactly what is happening. One's fingers scoop between her pussy lips, press against her hole and spread around the natural lubricant slowly dripping from her. It gets easier from there, wetter, and his hand moves with haste it hasn't before. The pleasurable sensation heightens, Nine's legs clutching around One's hips. She fists the blanket into her palms, twists left and right as she's being assaulted and does everything to suppress any noises.

"It's cute how you try to stay quiet," One tells her and as if to try to force her into the opposite, he does something Nine had though unthinkable. He pulls his hand away, moves back between her legs until he has enough space to bend over her crotch, pushing the thin fabric of the panties to the side, tongue digging into spaces his hand had occupied.

Nine cries out. Her hands tremble, shoot up in surprise and stay mid air. Her chest heaves, her toes curl, and her thighs spasm as One's lips, who had diligently ravaged hers before, now mouth at her cunt. He latches on to her clitoris, sucks it in and then expertly flicks it with his tongue.

Nine's back arches and her thighs desperately try to squeeze One's head, crush it, but her brother's large palms are enough to forcibly hold her legs apart. His arms flex with the gesture, subtly muscled and veiny with biceps twice as big as her thigh is. Desperately she holds her own mouth shut, palms muffling down any noise that One manages to punch out of her.

"I have been saving you for this," One tells her in between his licks. The talking reverberates against her skin and only makes her whimper more. She can't even look at him, vision blurry with tears and oriented to the rustling leaves above her.

"For this moment alone I didn't let anyone else do this to you," he babbles. Nine shakily rises up on her forearms, locking eyes with her deranged brother who is staring at her, right between her thighs, lips slick with her juices. He squeezes her and then his hand relocates, a finger firmly pushing inside of her.

Nine gasps at the uncomfortable sensation.

"Touch you like this," One emphasizes with a curl of his finger, pressing up into her from inside and causing a weird, tingling sensation. "You belong to me, Nine, and I get to say it."

Possessiveness drips from him. Nine is unused to seeing it on One. It is as if there is nothing in this world One could possibly desire, inhumane in his path of feeling indifference. It scares her, seeing him act nothing like his usual self, monopolising parts of her that Nine didn't know could be monopolised. Why, suddenly, is it her that he desires?

He's back to eating her out, nose pushing into her pussy and giving way to his mouth. He's latched to her clit, tonguing it with fervour of a starving man while his finger starts moving in and out of her. Nine collapses back on the blanket fully, hands digging into anything she can clutch and stuffing her mouth shut when she feels as if she can't contain whines of pleasure.

Surprisingly, looking only at the branches above her makes it worse. The obscene sounds resounding from bellow embarrass her deeply, make her cheeks warm and colour it crimson. One is surprisingly silent, only a low groan occasionally searing itself right into her skin, but the slick sounds of his palm meeting her cunt as he's thrusting a finger into her, the wet noises of him playing with her clit, betray her enjoyment of it that she doesn't want to admit. One's finger is uncomfortable inside of her, but his tongue is skilful and she's leaking as a broken faucet. Her breasts are hard, nipples perked into the wrinkled fabric and visibly protruding through the cloth, all so her body could spite what her mind desires.

"Don't hide, Nine," One demands, pulling off of her. He moves closer, finger sheathed deep inside her cunt, but his face scarily near to hers. She stares at him, wide eyed, stares at the light flush of his cheeks and the glistening wet spots on his face. Caused by her. He's grinning, grinning as he pries her hand away from her face, grinning as he leans into her and reclaims her mouth in spite of her surprise. Nine tries to wretch her head away, but he lays his whole weight on top of her and grips her chin with a crushing grip, holding her still, forcing another part of himself inside her.

She hadn't though she'd get kissed again, but here she is, One's tongue in her mouth, making her taste herself. It's faint, mixed with saliva, but not all that strong. It is slightly salty and sour and it smells in a weird way she has learned to associate with both discomfort and arousal. It doesn't taste bad, but it makes her sick all the same.

By the time one pulls off her she's desperate for air, gasping in search of it. Her eyesight is blurry and she can't tell if it's due to tears or oxygen deprivation. It is not as if she has time to ponder about it, when One so insanely cuts into her thoughts with no effort at all.

"Did you taste yourself?" he asks her conversationally, as if it is a topic Nine should be able to discuss with him freely and openly at any given time. "You taste good, Nine. So sweet and innocent," he purrs against her ear, hot breath sending shivers down her spine. She would disagree on her own taste, but she is too embarrassed to refute anything at all. To think One could just lick down there so easily and like it too…

Suddenly uncomfortable pressure floods her nerves. Her hands wrap onto One painfully, nails digging into his upper arm as the force turns painful. It inundates her, stinging, burrowing into her too small hole. It is bad enough for her to pull herself up just to hide whimpers of pain into One's arm she has been desperately hogging.

"Hm?" One hums as two of his fingers simultaneously breach Nine's tight muscle and slip inside of her. She audibly moans in pain. "Does it hurt?" he asks her.

Nine glares at him, at his stupidly handsome yet emotionless face, as if he doesn't get it at all. "That's not gentle," she remarks, voice rough.

"What? Is it not wet enough for you? Should I use lube?"

"You promised gentle," she accentuates, clenching around uncomfortable intrusion. It still stings slightly, but as long as One's hand stays still, it is manageable.

One tilts his head. His smile gets sharper. "I could be rougher."

Every drop of Nine's bravery evaporates. "No, please, onii-sama," she pleads in a pathetic tone of voice, feeling as small as a kitten. Compared to one, big and strong, it is all she amounts to. A scared kitten who can only scratch at best. "Please be gentler."

One pretends considering it, only knotting Nine's stomach in anxiety more. Whatever he wants to do, he has already decided. She just hopes it is in her favour.

He leans closer to her, right into her face, and tells her in dead seriousness, "I might if you stop hiding yourself from me."

Immediately Nine scrambles to let go of him, to show her face fully as One wants her to. Her fear is openly displayed on it and even if she could hide it away, it is not as if One wouldn't know immediately. It is as if he had been inside of every nook and cranny of Nine's mind and now Nine's body, knowing her more intimately than she knows herself.

One lays her down gently, back to being helpless on her back, where she belongs. "That's right, that's a good girl," he praises, voice low and gravely, rumbling within Nine's chest cavity.

The words are both cold and warm. They're cold dread so deeply ingrained in Nine it is impossible to separate it from her, and they're pleasant warmth of a compliment, despite the situation. Rarely anyone calls her anything nice, even mockingly, so as stupid and naive as it is, it reaches within her. She is doing something right, she is needed and she is called good for it.

But One never lets his words hang without hurting her after.

He moves his fingers inside of her. Every little wiggle she feels to an extreme degree, and while it no longer feels stingingly painful, it still aches, it's still uncomfortable and intrusive. Her body is trying desperately to push the strange shapes inside of her out, but she knows One takes her squeezing around him only as a further invitation. He is slow and deliberate with his movements, pumping his fingers in and out of her at a languid pace that lets her adjust better. With time pain manages to fade completely, only the feeling of being uncomfortably full remaining.

"You're so tight, Nine," One comments, joyous. "It makes me a little worried."

"Worried?" she echos in confusion.

"Will you even be able to fit me?"

"Fit… you…?" she dawdles, voice fading to nothingness as understanding hits her at once. She knows how this goes in theory, had been taught about it and seen some semblance of it with her siblings, but Nine had never thought of herself being the recipient of such action. No one has pushed fingers into her before and neither has she tried it herself. And now One had done it and is implying he will– "No, onii-sama," she pleads, voice cracking, "we– no…"

He spreads his fingers within her, hurting her, and she's even more convinced of impending pain.

"Don't worry, I'll make it fit."

"No, it won't– you can't–"

One cuts her off. "Why are you so contrarian today?"

He is right. Nine is rather timid and agreeable, even when she dislikes something. She has long learned what her role is and how it hurts deviating from it. But there is not stripping an animal of its bare instincts. "I'm scared," she admits, her voice reedy, heart in her throat.

"Of what?"

She trembles, words stuck. You.

Clueless One pushes closer into her personal space, leaning on his elbow right by her head. She instinctively tries to back off, but there is nowhere left for her to run.

"Hm, what are you scared of, Nine?" One asks her again. It could be almost gentle, almost caring, if it wasn't One saying it. "There is no need. Let your nii-chan take care of you," he says, calling himself something Nine would never dare call him.

There is no other choice for Nine but to obey him. Lay back, chest tight as One's rough, large fingers piston in and out of her, scissoring her apart. At least he tries to be true to his word, thumb brushing against her clit in tandem to keep some form of pleasure coming, but it's largely overshadowed by the anxiety twisting inside her guts.

"Relax," One tells her, and she knows she really should obey her eldest brother, but she cannot. Nothing about this is relaxing. Upon her lack of compliance, One seems to take a different approach. He strokes Nine's cheek and then steals a kiss while she least expects it. It's a gentle peck, leaving her stunned and her mouth parted open. As before, it is a mistake on her end, as One immediately takes advantage of her carelessness to kiss her fully.

It works in a way. Her mind is preoccupied with trying not to suffocate, but rather breath around One'a tongue in her mouth. It still feels weird and kind of disgusting, but less so. Now it borders on familiar and her initial repulsion fades with it. It's hard to hold on to it, when One can somehow make it feel nice. He draws her in, kisses her in a way where she's compelled to follow his lead and chase after his handsome visage.

She's holding on to him, pulling his shirt and stretching it with a painful grip. One is right above her, face a breath's width apart with eyes boring into her in sharp intensity she has never been privy to. She is compelled to stare, mesmerised, as One adjust for a better position. He lays on his hip, slips his free arm under Nine's frame and pulls her against himself. "Kiss back," he tells her before slotting their mouths together again.

Nine tries. She moves her lips in an awkward way and she presses her tongue against One's whenever he seeks for her. His arm is sweaty, bicep pressed into her neck, palm pushing away the dress, squeezing at her chest. It is warm. His fingers no longer hurt at all, unless he tries to spread them too far apart. She's filled with low thrumming pleasure now, growing inside of her at a languid pace. That is until One suddenly hooks his fingers upwards while simultaneously pressing down on her clit, offsetting a flare of nerves she didn't know she had that make her jolt. She gasps into One's mouth, moans into it as her fingernails dig into her brother's skin.

That… that felt good. Embarrassment floods her faster than the arousal can disperse. What a sound she had almost let out, muffled only by her brother. She can't even recognise it as her own, it sounded so weird, so whorish.

She never wants to sound like this again, but her brother disagrees. Abusing the newfound source of pleasure seems to become One's favourite pastime. He relentlessly pushes up at her nerves just as well as he poorly toys with her button-like flesh. Nine tries to pull away, to get a word in, but she isn't allowed to. One squeezes her closer upon each attempt of resistance, squeezing her breast and pinching her nipples as a punishment while he drinks in her broken moans. His body is hard against her, legs entangling with one of hers as she tries to shut her thighs together, begging for some kind of reprieve, chest pressed into her shoulder. He rubs her in many places and his knee digs into her uncomfortably. Higher up something else is poking her, but Nine can't spare it a single glance or even semi-coherent thought. All she can do is helplessly shut her eyes and cling to One's frame as he ravages her.

Pleasure build up within her. Her breathing is laboured, often obstructed by eager, spit slick, red lips that can't seem to stay off her. What little time One gives Nine to recover is spent kissing into her neck, biting and sucking in spaces, leaving behind a painful trail of markings. She prefers it if he kisses her on her mouth to this, and tries to subtly prevent him from pulling away each time she needs more room to breath. One's eyes glisten strangely and he dives right back in, abusing her cunt harder. So hard even that Nine is on the verge of breaking, pleasure coiling in her guts so deeply as if it will explode any time now and leave her trembling and overwhelmed in One's grasp.

"That eager for me?" One asks her with a grin, wiggling his fingers inside her. Despite Nine being completely out of breath, he is perfectly composed as ever. But there is no hiding the thin line of spit that had formed between them, nor is there hiding One's possessive desire.

Nine doesn't respond beyond a hazy stare, but One takes it as a confirmation of what he wants to hear anyways. "It is time to give you the real deal then," he tells her, and for the first time in minutes, releases her from his grip. He pulls his fingers out slowly, slick with a slippery, whitish substance Nine's body had produced. Somehow she feels empty and that thought alone makes her insides twist in discomfort. She shouldn't miss the touch.

One pushes his digits into Nine's face. She startles, stares at them hovering above her and then at One, confusion seeping off her. "Open your mouth," he tells her.

It dawns on her why, her eyes widen, and she shakes her head.

"You don't want to taste yourself?" One asks, as if it is a perfectly normal thing to do.

"No," Nine denies him quietly. He had already made her taste whatever liquid comes out from her crotch, she really doesn't want any more of it. She is scared he'll force her anyways, but One listens to her no for once. He puts his fingers in his own mouth instead, licking them clean.

She stares, wondering how he can do it with such ease, lick her pussy and drink in her juices. Staring at her as he does it with a grin, tongue dancing around his digits in much the similar manner she imagines it danced in her mouth. Or between her legs.

She can feel her cheeks grow warmer than they already are, so she looks away, embarrassed. The swaying flowers by the blanket interest her more than One acting insane does. Or so she tells herself.

"You're cute when you're embarrassed," One tells her. She refuses to look at him even more now, but it doesn't seem to bother him. He pulls away from her completely, leaving her laying on the hard, blanketed ground instead of his arm. Subtly she tries to pull her dress down and adjust her underwear so her crotch and tummy are no longer for One do gauge at.

She hears shuffling behind her. It concerns her enough to abandon her embarrassment and look at what One is doing. She sits up in shock, despite the fact that she should've expected it. One has a visible bulge in his pants, hands hooked into his waistband as if he's about to take his pants off, but Nine's panicked look stops him.

"What?" He asks. "It's not your first time seeing my dick," he tells her, as if that is the issue. She has serviced her siblings before, she has serviced One before, but what One usually wants is her touches, her mouth, and now what he wants is-

Without waiting for Nine's response, her brother pushes down both his pants and his underwear to his knees in a swift motion. One's penis springs to life right in front of her, big and hardened and flushed in deeper colour compared to the rest of his pale complexion. It's a sight she's been privy to many times before, but now it scares her worse than her first time did.

One grabs her leg.

"On- onii-sama no, no wait-!" she pleads, desperate. He looks at her curiously as her mind rushes for alternatives, something else, anything else-

Nine surges forward and grabs his cock, probably with more strength than she should, but One doesn't show it. It's hot, pulsating in her palm, and before doubt can seep into her brain she awkwardly strokes it.

"I'll pleasure you," she blurts out, voice shaky. She hopes it will be enough, to just rub him to completion in whichever way he likes the most.

"Nice try, Nine."

Immediately she adjusts her position to lean over, wrapping her mouth around the tip. Nine has always hated having to use her mouth for anything sexual, the smell is strong so up close, the taste is weird at best, gross most of the time, and her jaw aches whenever she does it with One, but she'd much rather endure all of those than have her brother's cock forcefully pushed into her.

It'll hurt. He'll take another part of her she can never have back, and Nine is supposed to thank him for it.

"What are you doing?" One asks her, bemused. He slides his hand into her hair, lightly tugs on it as Nine desperately clings on, licking the head in her mouth. She's not good at this, never has been, but she hopes having her so submissive on her knees is enough to persuade One into using her throat instead.

"How eager you are for me," he comments, fondness in his voice Nine has never heard before. He threads his hand into her strands of hair, giving her false hope by pushing her head closer, deeper, until his tip hits her throat and she gags on it. Then he pulls her off and brings his face to hers. "Don't worry, Nine, I'll join us into one soon."

Nine knows she failed. She had dirtied her mouth fruitlessly, still tasting One's cock on her tongue as he pushes her down and rolls on top. All she can do is despair quietly, trying not to let hot tears bubble to the surface. One will give her plenty of reasons to cry about later, she shouldn't give him the satisfaction this soon.

She tells herself she should give in. Just let him. But the moment he is between her legs, the moment she feels his organ touch her there, hysteric brew from her. She tries to kick him away, crawl somewhere else, anywhere, only to be effortlessly suppressed with a laugh.

"That's not nice," One tells her. "You shouldn't treat your lover this way."

What lover?

"You really want me to be mean?"

"You are being mean!" she yells at him, frustrated and scared. "I told you no! Why do you ignore me?"

"You didn't really mean it," One replies in utter conviction. As if he actually believes it to be true. Helplessly Nine barely suppresses a sob, as One leans into her, air turning chilly, face cold and eyes even more so. "Because if you would, then I'd have no reason to treat you nicely."

She shuts her mouth. Her eyes sting, and as a crybaby she is, she finds herself crying in front of One. She feels humiliated, scared, and above all else, helpless. Eight had wished her to be raped by their eldest brother, he had yelled it to her face. His wish is about to become reality. How happy he would be, Nine can imagine, that she gets what she deserves, and he can gloat about it, rub it in. How used she is about to become. Worthless.

How stupid she is to ever think One is capable of a nice gesture. That she, among everyone, is deserving of it.

"Why are you crying, Nine? This is a happy moment," One asks her. She can barely see him through her blurry vision, but she can more than feel. Large hands pushing her dress away, nestling on her thighs, spreading them open the way he wants them to be. Naked skin pressed to her naked skin, how the only barrier between One's cock and her pussy is a strip of underwear he could tear apart in a second, forcing himself inside of her just as easily.

He moves his palm to her crotch and pulls her damp underwear aside much like he has done before. Nine tenses completely under his touch, dreading the incoming penetrating pain. He rubs her folds again, moves fingers from her hole to her clit and gently teases the place for a few seconds. Then he pushes two of his fingers back into her tight opening, making it sting as she clamps down on him harder in anxiety. She is still wet, still leaking what her underwear hadn't soaked up and she is ashamed of it.

One pulls his fingers out quickly after that. He snaps a bottle open – where did he get it, Nine doesn't know, but it matters little – pours the contest of it on his hand, rubs it together so it's all shiny and slick before he wraps his hand around his dick. Nine props herself up on her elbows, chest rising and falling rapidly as she observes her impending doom.

One lines himself up with her opening and utters a sentence with happiness that makes her feel even worse, "Surprisingly you hadn't bled yet, but you most definitely will now." Then he pushes into her without giving her any sort of grace. Just like that she is deflowered in a field of flowers.

She yelps in pain, fresh wave of tears hitting her as her whole groin stings. She feels as if One is trying to split her apart, torture her for being a bad girl, for being as worthless as she is and for trying to deny him. She just collapses her trembling body back on the blanket fully, hands to her mouth to try and shut up any noises she feels compelled to let out. Especially the sobs.

"Nine, Nine you're so good for me," One tells her, leaning over right into her. He grips her hips in a painful manner, squashing both her dress and his own sweater against her frame while he breaths down her neck. She can feel him throb inside of her, can feel the invasive object penetrating her insides and causing it to hurt.

She acquiesces to his treatment. He licks her neck, bites into her skin, and she does nothing. She lays there, silently crying and jolting in pain at every micro movement One's dick makes inside of her, feeling his hands as they touch her, dig under her clothes. The moment he decides to move, to rock his hips, its infinitely worse than before, and her legs clamp around One's hips to instinctively make him stop.

"You want me fully inside of you this badly?" he asks her, happy. But all she can process is one word. Fully.

"Wh- what?" she squeezes out with a tremulous voice. "You- you're not already?"

"Of course not, my cute little sister. That was just the tip."

He pushes deeper into her, setting every nerve on fire and hurting her more. It feels impossible to take him, too big, too long, and the inside of her stomach feels raw, organs rearranged to accommodate him. He is slow, thankfully, but she still cries and tries to kick him away on instinct, easily suppressed by his weight that is more than double hers. She tries to hit him, push him, but he simply grabs her wrists and pins her arms with one hand alone.

"Onii-sama, it hurts," she sobs, shutting her eyes as if it would make it all disappear.

"Shhh," One shushes her. "It's only temporary. I promise."

"It hurts-"

"I know, Nine. Endure it for a little while."

She does. She lays there, in pain, feeling unnatural pressure against her bladder, breathing heavily and twisting her fingers in search of anything to grab on. One is close to laying on top of her, looming mere centimetres above. She's much smaller than him, so if he did put his full weight on Nine, she'd suffocate in his breasts.

He doesn't stay like this for long. He grows tired of the position fast and gets off her, back to how he was before. She whines, thighs trying to squeeze shut and failing while her arms dig into the blanket with their newfound freedom. His movements cause her a stinging ache and she strongly wishes his words had been the truth; it will pass, eventually she will end up enjoying it, even if it's against her will.

He grabs her hips again and bends her body at a weird angle to accommodate himself, dragging Nine on his lap. It let's her see her lower parts with barely any effort, smooth white stomach slightly protruding out. It's due to One's dick, she realises, hysterical. He's deforming her from inside out, as is his right.

Her brother moves. He pulls his hips back slightly and slowly thrusts forward. There is barely any force behind it, barely any movement, but it seers hotly still.

One pets her pussy, stroking her inner folds with his thumb. "Aw, you really are bleeding," he comments.

Nine clenches around him at that. She had been hoping that what One said was just a cruel, humourless, joke, not the reality of her situation. If she's bleeding, has he damaged something inside of her? Will sex make it worse?

"Don't look so scared," one cuts into her thoughts. "Most girls bleed when it's their first time."

Naively, she wants to believe him. "Really?"

"Of course, that's why sex hurts right now. But it won't be long before you start begging me for more."

Nine swears to herself that will never happen. Even if he makes it feel good, as One is capable of making it, she will never beg him to do this to her. She won't, she- She hopes he won't force her to.

The conversation fades as One picks up the pace. He is being gentle, true to his word, and the pain is slowly fading. Somehow it feels as if with every shallow thrust One manages to push deeper inside of her, and her own body feels to small to accommodate itself, let alone him. "Relax," he breaths out, but she physically can't. One realises it too and gets back on offensive, harshly holding Nine with one hand while focusing on her clitoris with the other. He plays with it like before, slowly igniting pleasure in Nine that shadows the pain.

"You are so tight, it's hard pushing it deeper," One comments. He looks feral, staring at her pussy and then her eyes. He changes positions suddenly again, pants kicked off his legs with a gusto, pushing Nine's body even further. He bends her legs and climbs on top of her so they're face to face. In this position his dick slips in even deeper, something Nine hadn't though possible, and she moans in surprise right into his face.

"That's right. Almost there. I'm almost fully inside of you," One grunts and presses Nine hard into the ground. She gasps at the last sudden sharp pain, feeling herself flush with her brother. His pubes tickle her skin and his pelvis radiates warmth where it touches her. She feels stupid for thinking One had fully penetrated her before when now she feels as if One's dick is directly in her stomach. She even dares to look up. look at where they're joined together, all to see how deep inside her One really is. It bulges slightly, his girth and her lack of fat showing precisely how far in he's going to breed her.

Now he starts moving in earnest. Nine grabs One's arms, holding her legs down so hard it hurts, and digs her fingernails into his skin. It hurts her too, the way he slides in and out of her, but the burning within her is slowly giving way to another kind of tingling. Pathetic noises are punched out of her throat, but she can hardly focus on them.

"I'm too big for you now," One hisses, thrusting deeper, "but when you're older you wont be able to enjoy anyone smaller." His dick protrudes her stomach. "I'll mould you to me so nicely."

"No," Nine utters.

"Yes, Nine."

No! She won't let herself, she will never - she won't, she– A spark of pleasure cuts her thoughts off. She's openly letting out little noises now, moans and whine's that she can't suppress, a mixture of both pain and pleasure. But when One pushes against something inside of her. something he had pressed down on with his fingers before, an embarrassingly loud and high pitched sound unravels from her. She's so flustered by it, that her face immediately becomes warmer, and her hands shoot to cover her mouth. She stares at One, teary eyed, as he stares back in glee and desire.

From that moment onwards, One never fails to hit that spot within her. He fucks her silly, quickly forgetting his promise of gentle. He becomes rough with her. She can't protest, mouth full of saliva she barely manages to swallow, tears running down her cheeks and moans free falling from her lips. He forces her hands away from covering her mouth, partially to drink in her moans and partially so he could suck hickies into her limbs. Whenever he gets a good angle he takes the opportunity to steal a kiss from her, but mostly he is too tall to be able to kiss her while fully sheathed inside of her.

She still feels too full. It still hurts, but it's also laden with pleasure, mixing within her in the most horrible way. "Please, slow- slow down, aah, onii-sama," she cries so pitifully that One actually takes mercy on her. He slows down, stops gripping her so tightly and generally gives her more room to breath. Immediately it feels easier. Sharp thrusts turn to drawn out, long and deep ones, the kind where she can feel the drag of his head inside every millimetre of her canal.

"Look at us," One coos. Nine looks up at him, follows his hand which caresses her stomach. It is visible how One moves inside of her, a contracting and expanding bump carving its place within her. His fingers gloss over it, petting the area in a ticklish way and then pressing down on it. Nine gasps, feeling the pressure on her bladder intensify, feeling how the pleasurable tingles get stronger, just… feeling her every organ around him in general.

When One moves his arm away she sees the exact spot in which they're connected. One is so thick, stuffing her pussy to the point where it looks as if it can barely accommodate him, stretched around him and hugging his dick tightly with every movement. It looks so… so obscene. She's ashamed to look for any longer.

A hand gently caresses her cheek. "So shy," One murmurs, leaning over her, an indescribable look in his eyes. "So cute." He kisses her, slowly, deeply, passionately all at once. It's gentler than his other kisses had been and Nine finds herself enjoying this one more. It is less of an invasion, more of a poisonous gas slowly filling her lungs, cloyingly sweet, overtaking her. She closes her eyes, immersed in it, kissing him back. Even when One breaks them apart, the look in his eyes remains. Wind ruffles his white hair, the sun at the edge of her vision casting a deep shade over his face. He looks pretty. Handsome. She could almost delude herself like this.

One adjusts his position, dragging out a rolled up towel from the basket toppled over on the blanket. Before he can use it as he intends, Nine stops him in shock. "Where did you get this?" she asks, in complete disbelief. On the rolled up towel there's an ugly little duckling sewn into it. It is a towel she had made and then gifted to Eight, hoping it'll make her brother happy and he'll like her better. He had only insulted her and called it trash.

"In Eight's bathroom."

"He kept it…" Nine mutters, moved in ways she hasn't felt moved before. He kept what little Nine had made for him? She was sure he had burned it.

"He was keeping it separate from the rest of the towels. I wonder why?" One says without a hint of real curiosity nor care. But Nine feels on the verge of a breakdown from all of it. Not like it matters.

One stops entertaining Nine and puts it under her back. She is permanently arched this way, her stomach in her field of view even if she lays her head down. It is so embarrassing, positioned and presented as if she wants it.

Her brother goes back to fucking her. It feels better than before. Nine hates to admit it, hates to agree with One, that he had been right. It feels good. Hot pleasure coiling inside her guts, his pelvis brushing against her clitoris with his deep thrusts, the slowed rhythm muting the sting within her body. It does hurt, but One pays attention to her body. He brings her pleasure that she didn't know even existed. He waits if she asks him to, praises her, compliments her, but he still refuses to stop. Maybe he knows what Nine wants better than she herself knows it. Maybe she does actually want this, and she is just deluding herself. Maybe it was always meant to come to this.

"Are you there yet, Nine? Almost close to the edge?" One asks her, breathless for a change.

"Of what?" she croaks and whimpers.

"An orgasm. How close are you?"

She's not sure. This pleasure is different from what she usually receives, deeper, weird, and the pressure against her bladder makes her feel almost as if she is about to wet herself. Then One changes his position, hovering above her face, body's so close together his stomach is touching hers. At the angle change she gasps and blurts out in worry, "I'm not, onii-sama, stop," she pleads, weekly trying to push him off. "I need to pee, onii-sama!"

"Do you now?" he grunts and keeps on drilling his dick straight into her.

"Please! It'll be- our clothes will be dirty!"

He doesn't stop at all. He smiles, wide and insane, and she grows hysterical.

"I can't go back naked, onii-sama!"

He thrusts into her in a particular way, at just the right angle to almost push her over the edge. Panicked, she yells at One, "One, stop!"

He falls of rhythm, stuttering mid motion. He looks at Nine weirdly, but it is too late. The persistent ramming of his dick into her soft insides had been enough. Nine's thighs convulse and something inside of her snaps. It's as if she has reached an orgasm while simultaneously unable to hold back herself. Her urine sprays from her, squished between herself and One. Warm wet liquid trickles down between them, ruining the blanket as her whole body tremors in his grasp. She squeezes down on One hard, trying to pull away, but he thrusts deep inside of her, building painful overstimulation. She's crying in his grasp, gasping for air, lewd noises not only escaping her mouth, but also elevated with the wet squelch.

"No, ahh, enough," she begs pitifully, air punched out of her lungs, before in a few final thrusts One finally stills deep inside of her convulsing pussy, face locked in ecstasy. His dick pulses inside of her, spurting hot cum into her canal, into her still trembling body.

One kisses her, open mouthed and hungry. He devours her, right in that position, cock still buried inside her. She can barely keep up with him, gasping for air and then trying to pull away. Of course, One doesn't let her. They're done when he decides so. But Nine wants nothing more than to hide. She really couldn't control her bladder she just… and One forced her to.

"What did you call me before?" he asks Nine as he finally breaks the kiss with an uncomfortably wet sound. He looks deranged, and a pang of fear throbs in Nine's stomach. She waits for him to elaborate, quiet as a mouse. "You said my name."

She did say his name. She shouldn't have, she doesn't get to address him improperly, but he has made her both really desperate and really angry. She voices none of her thoughts.

One tilts his head, as a predator would, about to toy with his prey. "Now that's not right."

"I told you to stop!" Nine defends herself. He grabs her jaw.

"Little Nine," his breath hits her face, "don't you know big brother knows best?" She swallows hard, throat dry. "Or must I really teach you?"

"No, no you're right, onii-sama," she rushes out with a proper, respectful title, hoping it'll be enough to satisfy him.

"That's more like it. You can call me nii-chan though."

She doesn't. It feels wrong to even think of the man above her as nii-chan. It feels disrespectful, as if she doesn't know her own place and is in need of correction. No one in her family can be addressed with anything less but polite formality, she hasn't earned it. It feels too familiar, but Nine is barely familiar with anyone at all. All she knows from them is pain. All she knows from One is pain too. Everything loops back to it; every action, comment, or gesture, no matter how naively she believes it is good natured, exists to hurt her.

Finally One backs off her. He shifts, slowly pulling his cock out. She can feel him retract, feels the sudden emptiness when it pops out with a lewd sound, her muscles trying to grip around air. It feels weird and raw and her lower parts ache. Her underwear is completely soaked through, but One had gotten what he deserves as well. His shirt is wet in some places, darker splotches clinging to his skin. He should have listened to Nine.

He looks drawn at it, examines, the wet splotches and takes it off. His muscles flex with the motion, revealing skin that had Nine had not been privy to today. But now he sits by her completely naked, muscles more pronounced with the lack of clothing. She can't help it. Her eyes get drawn to his crotch, to the parts between his legs that have just been inside her. Wet and tinged with a bit of red. Her spilled virgin blood.

She can't stand looking at it. Her eyes flicker up and shame consumes her. One had caught her staring and is now doing the same to her with a creepy smile. He's still holding his soiled shirt and brings it up closer.

He sucks the fabric. Nine blanches. "What are you…?"

"Tasting you."

Nine sits up suddenly, cheeks hot and red, reaching out to take the shirt from One. "Onii-san it's-" it's disgusting, "it's pee!"

He evades her easily. "You really believed that, huh?" he asks teasingly. She falters.

"What?"

"It's not urine, Nine. You squirted on me. It's the pure taste of your first deep orgasm."

That's… there is no way that's true. He's just messing with her, trying to humiliate her. She knows what she felt, she knows what she did, she wet herself. She wet him. It's not… "You're lying," she accuses.

"I'm not lying," One rebukes with ease and leans into her. His hand is in between her legs again and she jolts in surprise, the finger swiping in between her folds to brush against that nice spot. Then One's big and rough hand is in her face and he's urging her to believe him. "Taste it yourself."

"No, wait, I don't-"

"That's fine," he interrupts, licking her juices of his own finger. "You're mine to taste. So lets enjoy our date, Nine, shall we?" He smiles at her. It is maybe supposed to be reassuring, but all it reassures her off is her helplessness. She sits there, lets him manhandle her again as he wants so he can once again get access to what's between her legs. With his tongue? With his mouth? Hands or penis or anything else? It doesn't matter. She is supposed to let him.

Date. It that what this is in One's mind?

A sweet cry falls off her lips as her brother spreads her pussy lips open with his thumbs, diving in to lick with vigour. She falls back on the blanket in defeat, lower back pressed against the white towel with the duck. The one innocent item of her love that had been preserved carefully now tainted as well.

This will never end. From now on, she is One's to toy with in an entirely different way.

---

Weeks after, she's splayed on her brother's bed. It has become customary for them to have sex this way, but with every passing day Nine feels less and less as herself. The lines between what she wants and what One wants her to want start blurring. She feels simultaneously too small and too big.

There's a bouquet of flowers in One's room. They're the same flowers she had seen gently swaying in the wind on the meadow, colourful, pretty, white, yellow and blue flowers. They were so free and so full of life. Here they sit, drooping flower heads slowly wilting. If she closes her eyes, they dance practically in front of her. White petals with drops of red. Nine who had been ruined.

Nice things always come with jagged edges. Nine doesn't know why she was naive enough to believe this time it won't, to dare hope that there is a truly nice gesture her brother is capable of preforming with nothing attached to it. Laying here, staring at the once white petals now stained in red, wilting before her very eyes, makes her feels as if these flowers are her. She is wilting with them.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of You're The Future And I'm Keeping You In The Past