My Brother Is the One I Dream About

Summer in the family compound in Shancheng was full of the sweet-and-sour taste of waxberries and the carefree racket of five teenage boys.

Ning Yu and Tong Xun had been getting into trouble, getting beaten, and sneaking over walls to steal fruit together since they were little. They were closer than brothers. They could even throw their arms around each other without batting an eye and put on a fake couple act at karaoke to fool people.

The illusion of their "brotherly friendship" shattered when Tong Xun received a love letter. Ning Yu was the one who tore it apart with his own hands.

By the basketball court, in full view of everyone, Ning Yu was like a trapped beast pushed past the breaking point. He snatched the glaring love letter and ripped it to shreds.

He grabbed the bewildered Tong Xun and kissed him hard. Their teeth collided, and pain spread.

"You accept everything other people give you? Then what about me? What am I to you?!"

Tong Xun's head buzzed. The pain on his lips was nothing compared to the anguish in Ning Yu's eyes.

He pushed Ning Yu away and fled in panic amid the dead silence and the uproar of gossip.

The two who had once been inseparable only pushed each other farther and farther away.

After the college entrance exams, they went their separate ways. With the tolling of the farewell bell drawing near, the old waxberry tree that had witnessed their entire ridiculous youth was heavy with fruit, its branches bowed beneath the weight.

Ning Yu cornered Tong Xun. Moonlight fell across his tense face.

"Tong Xun."

"I like you! Not as a brother!"

"I mean, I want to kiss you and hold you... I want to be with you from now on!"

Cicadas screamed, and their hearts pounded like drums.

Tong Xun looked at the reckless, stubborn boy before him. He picked the plumpest waxberry and popped it into Ning Yu's mouth.

"It's so sour..." Tong Xun turned away, the tips of his ears burning red. "Pick a sweet one next time."

The taxi pulled away with their farewell. Through the window, their hands clasped tightly together, then slowly let go.

Youth is an unripe fruit. We all wait for it to turn sweet, even if what awaits us is the moment it falls from the branch and rots into the mud.

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Premise: Bro, you're so hot