Chapter 1:

The Brother I Never Met

Bound by Yesterday

My brother died at seventeen. I turned seventeen three days ago.

I never thought those two things had anything to do with each other.

Ryu died in a car accident on October 17th, 2006, three years before I was born. Mom survived. He didn't.

I became the same age as my older brother. Soon, I'd become older than him.

I hated how much that bothered me.

I'd never even met Ryu.

I never stole his clothes. Never fought with him over the bathroom. Never blamed him for something I broke. But he'd been in my life for as long as I could remember.

He was in the photograph beside the stairs, seventeen forever, one arm around Mom and the other raised behind her head like rabbit ears.

He was in the box at the top of her closet that she thought I didn't know about. And he was in the way Grandma sometimes stared at me before saying I had his eyes.

“You're doing it again.”

I looked away from the photograph. Mom stood at the bottom of the stairs.

“Doing what?”

“Staring at him.”

“I was looking at the picture.”

“That is generally how staring works.”

I rolled my eyes. She smiled and started walking away.

Dad was away on another business trip, so it was just the two of us that night. That wasn't unusual. Growing up, Dad had spent almost as much time in airports as he did at home.

“Mom.”

She stopped.

“How much do I look like him?”

Her smile faded. She studied my face.

“You have his eyes.”

“That's what Grandma says.”

“But you're not Ryu, Natsu.”

“I know.”

“Good.”

She walked away. I looked back at the photograph.

Ryu was still seventeen. Just like me.

(...)

I went to bed that night without thinking much more about it.

Sometime after midnight, I woke up to music skipping.

A few seconds of guitar.

Static.

Then the same few seconds again.

I reached toward my nightstand. My hand hit plastic.

I opened my eyes.

There was a stereo beside the bed.

Not my phone. A stereo.

I sat up.

Posters covered unfamiliar walls. CDs were stacked on a desk. A skateboard rested in the corner.

“What the hell?”

I froze.

That wasn't my voice. I threw the blanket aside and stumbled out of bed.

My body felt wrong.

Not bigger. Not older. Just different.

There was a mirror on the closet door.

I looked at it. And stopped breathing.

Ryu stared back at me.

Not Ryu from the photographs.

Ryu. Alive.

He had the same dark hair as me, only longer and messier, falling over the same blue eyes Grandma always said I'd inherited from him. His face was sharper, older somehow, with a small mole beneath his left eye I'd never noticed in any picture.

I touched my face. He touched his.

“No.”

His lips moved with mine.

The bedroom door opened.

“Ryu?”

I turned.

Mom stood there. Except she was younger.

Much younger.

Her dark hair fell past her shoulders, framing a face I knew immediately despite how much younger it looked. Her blue eyes were the same, only untouched by the faint lines twenty years had left around them. I'd seen pictures of her at this age, but pictures weren't supposed to move.

“Ryu? You okay?”

I couldn't answer.

She wasn't looking at me. She was looking at her other son.

For the first time in my life, I was seeing my mother look at Ryu.

Not at a photograph. At him.

Natsu?

No. She hadn't said Natsu.

“Ryu?”

My chest tightened. I didn't know what else to do.

So I hugged her.

“Whoa—”

She stiffened.

“Okay...?”

I held on for another second, trying to understand how any of this could possibly be real.

“What's gotten into you?”

I pulled away.

“Sorry.”

She stared at me.

“You're acting weird.”

Before I could answer, she glanced toward the hallway.

“Your dad called, by the way. His flight got delayed again.”

Even twenty years ago. Some things apparently never changed.

Then I saw the calendar behind her.

April 2006.

My stomach dropped.

October 17th.

I counted the months.

Six.

Ryu had six months left to live.

“Ryu?”

I looked back at Mom.

The room twisted. And everything disappeared.

(...)

I woke up on the floor beside my bed.

My phone was ringing.

I grabbed it.

7:03 AM.

October 1st, 2026.

My room. My body. My hands.

A dream. It had to be.

Three days ago, I'd turned the same age Ryu had been when he died. I'd spent the evening staring at his photograph.

My brain had done the rest.

By the time I went downstairs, I'd almost convinced myself.

Mom was pouring coffee.

“Morning.”

I opened the fridge.

“Natsu.”

Something in her voice stopped me.

“I had the weirdest dream last night.”

I turned.

“What about?”

“Your brother.”

My hand remained on the refrigerator door.

She laughed softly.

“Something I haven't thought about in years. And the strange thing is... it was exactly like something that actually happened. A few months before the accident, I went into Ryu's room in the middle of the night.”

I stared at her.

“Why?”

“I heard his music skipping. Same few seconds playing over and over.”

My stomach tightened.

“When was this?”

“God, Natsu. Twenty years ago.”

“Was it April?”

Her expression changed.

“I think so. Why?”

“What happened?”

Mom looked down at her coffee.

“He was acting strange. Just standing there, staring at me like he'd never seen me before.”