My brother has died.

For a child unable to join an orphan group, death is inevitable. Despite my lack of even this basic survival knowledge, my brother saved me.

Alone all his life, my brother gave me, a useless crybaby, a place to belong. Though not related by blood, he desperately ran around the city for my food when he found me abandoned and sobbing.

Scraps of meat and bread, discarded vegetables and fruits. They weren’t the best, but he gathered them with all his might.

We chewed every piece together.

Sometimes, I would be the decoy while he stole money from travelers.

If they weren't locals, they would give up chasing us if we could escape.

Sometimes it worked, but more often, it didn’t. We’d get hit, kicked, and slammed against walls together.

Through his tears, my brother would apologize for failing, and seeing him like that, I cried too.

If he’d been alone, he might have survived somehow. Having a useless person like me around only weakened him over time.

My brother, who never backed down from fights with other orphan groups, used to say he would become a great gladiator.

But in less than a few years, he could no longer move properly.

To repay his kindness, I struggled to find food for him.

But I never managed to gather enough on my own.

As he grew weaker by the day, I panicked and stole food from a shop.

Though my brother had warned me to never do that.

I was caught on the third attempt, forcing us to flee to the far side of the city.

My brother thanked me, saying, "It’s okay," but there were other orphans' territories in the new area.

There was no way things would be okay.

Apologizing repeatedly, I desperately searched for food. The orphan group found me and beat me again and again.

When I finally came back with a slice of bread, my brother was already cold.

I was heartbroken, crying, and shouting in anger.

I stomped on the bread, kicked it away, threw myself against walls, and rolled on the ground.

Then I clung to my brother’s body and cried endlessly.

I wanted to die.

To die together with him.

That would be the happiest ending.

With that thought, I sat next to him and closed my eyes.

Time passed, my mind clouded, and just then, I heard a voice.

Someone pulled off the cloth that covered me, looking at me.

I looked up to see a gladiator standing there, holding a bunch of meat and gazing down at me.

Amazing… After all, gladiators must be incredible. They get to eat all the meat they want.

Somehow, I thought that, since my brother had idolized gladiators. He must be amazing.

While I was thinking this, the gladiator left.

There’s no way he would care about someone as small as me. If my brother had been alive, he would have surely told me to become a gladiator.

But my brother was too kind; he might not have been able to leave me behind to become one.

I really am a burden. Without me, my brother would have...

“Warm soup. Can you drink it?”

Just as I closed my eyes, I heard that voice, and I lifted my head.

The gladiator was standing there again, a bowl of warm soup in front of me.

My throat tightened.

But why would this man give me soup? Was it poisoned?

Such thoughts swirled in my head, but I was planning to die anyway, so I decided to drink it.

The moment the warm soup touched my lips, a soothing warmth spread through my body.

The taste was unbelievably good.

I drank the soup desperately.

Then, the gladiator gave me water, and even some meat.

The meat was still slightly warm.

I took a bite, savoring it in my mouth.

The meat was juicy and sweet, and tears streamed down my face.

I thought it tasted more incredible than anything in the world. At the same time, I was filled with guilt for eating without my brother.

If my brother knew I ate meat by myself, what would he think?

Would he be angry, laugh, or feel sad?

Or… would he be happy for me?

As I thought about this while eating, the gladiator looked at me and spoke.

“…Would you like to come with me?”

He asked in a gentle voice.

He was big and his face was intimidating. But somehow, he reminded me of my brother.

What should I do about my brother?

If I could bring him along, I’d like to try going with this gladiator.

When I said this, the gladiator nodded with a frown and carefully lifted my brother’s body.

Seeing my brother’s once-sturdy arm now thin like mine, I felt tears welling up again, but I held them back.

Then, as he walked ahead, the gladiator turned slightly toward me and spoke.

“…I’m Yamato. What’s your name?”

“I… I’m Emera.”

When I said that, the gladiator named Yamato murmured, “I see,” and turned forward again.

Saying my name aloud for the first time in a long while, I felt an unexpected strength in my steps.

Brother, I’ll do my best.