Episode Two

The moment the final bell rang, the quiet that had settled over the classroom broke all at once. Even the teacher laughed a little, calling after students who were already bolting for the door.

I stretched out fully, letting out all the accumulated tiredness and everything else in one long breath.

Setting back-to-back classical literature and maths on an afternoon was a deliberate act of cruelty. I think I caught maybe half of it. I’d have to review when I got home.

New seasonal frappuccinos, summer wardrobes to stock up on. Bright, colourful conversations floated through the classroom around me. Some of it sounded appealing, but today I had to get home. I slung my backpack on and slipped out.

I smiled at the classmates who called out to me on the way. I think I managed it. I hope I did.

The commute I’d made every day for a year felt oddly unsettling. I was fine this morning, but apparently even I can feel nervous when I put my mind to it. I wished this jitteriness would scatter and disappear, like the cherry blossom petals drifting across my field of view.

I got through the school gates before I could hear the sports clubs starting up, and headed down the long slope.

Actually, what were we doing about dinner? Going out somewhere, or sitting around the table at home like a proper family? I’d been in a rush this morning and forgotten to ask Dad. I sent him a message, but the double-tick didn’t appear straight away.

I should get home quickly, but the fridge was looking bare the last time I checked. Either way I’d need to stop at the shops. I’d have to think about meals going forward too. Starting their new life with us only to be hungry seemed like a terrible first impression. Thinking like a housewife before I’ve even graduated high school. I hated myself a little for it.

I stood at the level crossing, covered in a carpet of fallen petals, and watched the train pass without really seeing it.

What does Ao do after school, I wonder.

She’s not in any clubs, as far as I know. Maybe she has a part-time job. If it were her, I’d imagine a stylish café. It would suit her. I’d like to see it.

The grey mood that had been gathering lifted a little just from picturing her.

We don’t have to be girlfriends. Even just texting, or drifting through late-night phone calls. A little more effort and maybe I could have something like that with her. The thought of spending time with her like that made me feel like I could die of happiness.

I noticed my fingers had gone cold. I let go of the shoulder strap I’d been gripping and crossed the tracks toward the station.

“Terrible.”

The word slipped out. I’d never even confessed and I already felt like I’d been rejected. Maybe I have the foundations of a deeply neurotic person.

I’d meant to plan the menu by the time I got to my local station, but I couldn’t make myself think about anything, and ended up just staring blankly at the platform across from mine.

I got off the train at my stop, went through the same ticket gate I’d passed through that morning, and headed for the supermarket in front of the station. I’ve been coming here since I was small. I wondered if that would still be true in years from now.

I went around the whole shop with an empty basket and let out my fourth or fifth sigh of the day.

“What do I even get?”

I had no idea.

Dad basically says everything is delicious no matter what I make, so picking a menu has always just meant picking what I felt like eating. But I had no idea what Mum or my stepsister liked. Nothing at all.

“This is such a hassle.”

I slumped and went back to the entrance to do another circuit.

What do girls in middle school even like to eat? Prawn cutlets, maybe? Is that still something they get excited about?

If she was deep in a rebellious phase and said something like “fried food, seriously?” I might actually cry. And if the new mum, who I was sure was a kind person, said something gentle like “maybe we can try something a bit different next time,” I genuinely would not recover.

Those anxieties kept circling, useless as they were. I meandered through the aisles thinking about a stepsister I’d never seen and a new mother I knew nothing about, and slowly filled the basket.

After spending what felt like three times the usual amount of time on the shopping, I stood in front of our door with two overstuffed bags cutting into my hands and took a deep breath.

First impressions matter most, apparently. Dad says it every spring without fail, so it’s probably true.

I’d never spent much time thinking about how other people see me, but I didn’t think I came across as strange. Fuuka had called me detached before, but that was only because I tended to be a bit careless with her. That’s not who I am with everyone.

One more deep breath. I pushed open the door, heavier than usual somehow, and sent my voice down the dim hallway toward the living room.

“I— I’m home!”

My voice came out higher than I intended and hung in the unlit corridor. I looked down. There beside my familiar shoes: an unfamiliar pair of pumps, neatly set beside a pair of plain brown loafers. The same colour as mine. The kind you could buy anywhere. A little grown-up for a middle-schooler, maybe.

I was bending down to take off my shoes when the door at the end of the hallway opened, and I saw the figure standing there. The bags slipped from my hands.

“Welcome home.”

Black hair, glossy and full of life, swaying as she smiled at me. I couldn’t look away.

The bags on the floor didn’t register. I had no room in my head for anything outside myself.

The person I loved was in my house. Nagai Ao was right there.

She gave the silence a moment, then spoke again.

“Hey, you in there? I can help you carry those.”

She crossed the cool floor without a sound and reached a hand out toward me. If I touched it, would she be angry?

The thought surfaced, shameful and unbidden. My face started to burn. She’d said first impressions mattered.

“I, um— I’m home?”

“Why is that a question? You’re cute, Yuna.”

“C— cute—”

My head almost boiled over. The ice-water composure I’d managed through lunch with Fuuka was nothing. Ao reduced it to scalding in seconds.

And she’d called me Yuna.

“Th— thank you.”

I looked away from her puzzled, curious gaze, and passed her the lighter of the two bags.

“Why are you here, Nagai-san? Did you come to drop something off? Something I forgot, maybe?”

My own voice fell into the dim hallway, small and meandering.

“Ha. Yuna, you’re really flustered.”

“Come on, let’s go through to the living room.”

Her laugh was clear and bright, like a small bell. Then she turned away and walked down the hall as though the house were already hers.

Something about it felt strange. Even Fuuka would have been at least a little more tentative. I thought.

My mind still hadn’t caught up. I took off my shoes and followed her, and there was Dad’s face, lit up ear to ear, and the woman from the photo, even more beautiful in person.

The living room felt smaller than usual.

“Welcome home, Yuna.”

“Sorry for making you do the shopping. Thanks for that. And thank you for the help, Ao-chan.”

“Yuna-chan, welcome home. I’m sorry our proper introduction is so late.”

Looking at how happy Dad was made everything else stop mattering. The new mother looked a little nervous too, but kindness came through in every word. They suited each other, I thought.

“I’m— yeah. I’m home.”

“Dad. And— mum—”

“Shiho-san.”

I said it quietly, with a small, uncertain smile.

I couldn’t say “Mum.”

I don’t think I’ll ever forget the way Shiho-san’s eyes fell for just a moment. I have nothing against her. It’s just that the word “Mum” carries rather more weight than I expected.

Still, the way she smiled softly back at me told me she was a good person. I didn’t know if the day would ever come when I could call her that. But she was someone who would make Dad happy.

“Hey, are you forgetting someone?”

Ao had finished stowing things in the fridge and was now pouting in my direction.

Even pouting, she was unbearably cute. I nearly let a sigh out.

“Right. Sorry. Nagai-san, what exactly are you doing here?”

“I mean—”

The words stopped in my throat.

I could already see the answer. My brain just refused to accept it. There was only one reason she could be here.

She was beaming at me now, eyes crinkling, edging closer. I stepped back without meaning to. In the corner of my eye, Dad and Mum both looked utterly delighted.

Am I happy right now? So much had happened all at once that I couldn’t tell what I was feeling anymore.

“Nice to meet you. Big sis.”

The words arrived in a soft whisper, and my whole body seemed to tremble. The sound of our parents’ laughter didn’t reach me.

Only Ao’s voice, beautiful and strangely warm, kept ringing in my head.