The Sound that Scared Him the Most
Ritsu had thought he'd known what sound scared him the most.
He'd heard it only once, the day he met the thing that wasn't Nii-san, a not-sound that emanated from it in waves. The waves of not-color that accompanied the not-sound were terrible— stealing the vibrant blue of the sky, and the golden glint of sunlight off the fence, and the splashes of red on the concrete that couldn't be blood because there was too much of it— replacing them all with oppressive greys and blinding whites and dark, terrible blacks. But the not-sound devoured noise from everything it touched, tore the harsh thud of impact and the explosion of rubble from the air as the thing threw the older boys and Ritsu away from it like pebbles in a hurricane, reached into Ritsu's throat and snatched the sound of his pained, terrified breaths and his cries for Nii-san away from him, replacing it all with a void that smothered Ritsu worse than the pain in his head, a void somehow centered about the thing that couldn't be Nii-san.
The not-sound had haunted Ritsu's nightmares, waking him before his whimpers could reach Nii-san's ears, forcing him back to the day the thing that wasn't Nii-san took Nii-san's warm rainbow aura and turned it black, cold, a dangerous and terrible thing that had lashed out at the older boys and Ritsu alike without thought, without compassion, without mercy. The not-sound resided in the back of Ritsu's head, cautioning him to take heed of everything he did, everything he said, while in Nii-san's presence, pressing him to make sure Nii-san's needs were met lest he hear it again. The not-sound was all he could think of when he saw Black Vinegar Middle School tear itself to pieces and fling itself into the sky— for what else, save the thing that wasn't Nii-san, could possibly unleash such destructive power?
But despite all this, it was on a different day— the day the world shattered beneath his feet (again), the day Nii-san had to fight with everything he had to save the world from a man mad with power, the day Nii-san let down all the barriers holding back his emotions and his psychic powers— Ritsu knew he had been wrong. Nii-san's laughter— ecstatic, insane, but unmistakably Nii-san's— was far worse than any not-sound that emanated from the thing that wasn't Nii-san.
At least the not-sound didn't come from Nii-san.
That laugh— mad with unlimited power though it was— couldn't have been anyone else.