Episode Ten
“Th— that’s not… true.”
“…Don’t say strange things out of nowhere.”
I forced the words out in a trembling voice. My eyes drifted — the white floor, Ao’s hands, the corner of the room. My gaze kept moving, unable to settle anywhere.
Could she hear the alarm bells going off inside my chest? My whole body felt distant from me, as though it belonged to someone else.
“I see. You’re right, sorry.”
“It’s already so late. I really should sleep.”
A small, pretty yawn, and Ao turned toward the door.
“The glasses suit you — wear them at home from now on. Contacts all day must be tiring.”
“…Okay.”
“Well then. Goodnight~”
The door clicked shut. The moment I heard that sound, the strength went out of my body and my vision tilted. My glasses slipped badly and half the world blurred.
She knows.
She must… know.
The edges of my vision slowly blurred in a different way, and no matter how hard I tried to push it down, the sound of quiet crying dissolved into the empty room.
I didn’t want to cry. But once the tears had started they wouldn’t stop, and I lay there with my face pressed into the thin duvet, letting the unsteady feelings have their way with me for a while.
◇
When I slowly opened my eyes, a pale, in-between light — neither night nor morning — was coming through the window and filling the room. I’d apparently cried myself to sleep. Even after a whole night, my feelings hadn’t settled — if anything, they felt worse. The tangle of emotions knotted somewhere deep inside me might never come undone now.
I pulled off the glasses I’d fallen asleep in and pushed my face into the pillow.
I had always been in love with Ao. From that very first day — the day I walked into the classroom that spring, full of nerves, and saw her. I loved the way she talked happily with her classmates. I loved that she was good at studying and sports and had such effortless style. And from the sports day when she noticed me standing apart and came over to say something, I stopped being able to hold the feeling back at all.
I think there’s a limit to how much happiness a person can receive.
If Dad and Shiho-san had never met, Ao and I couldn’t even have become friends. So by that measure, I’m happy. I come home and Ao is there to greet me with a smile. She tells me my cooking is delicious. I get to see her in clothes other than her uniform.
I’ve already taken in all the happiness I’m allowed.
So the happiness that lies beyond being sisters — I’ll never reach it. No. I must never reach it. Even if it’s only in name, we’ve become sisters now. Beyond being classmates there might have been something deeper, but beyond being sisters there’s nothing left.
If I didn’t give up on Ao, the family would surely fall apart. I don’t want to make Dad and Shiho-san sad. So I’ll give up. I’ll push these twisted feelings down to the bottom of my chest and put an end to myself as I am. That’s the right thing to do. It must be.
“…Ao…”
Tears spilled from my eyes and soaked into the pillow.
If it was going to feel like this, I never wanted to become sisters at all. I try to act a little grown-up, but in the end I’m just a high schooler. I’m only a child, and a child has no idea how to put themselves back together once they’ve started to break.
◇
No matter how painful things are, ordinary life keeps arriving anyway.
The thick frames of the glasses should be hiding the faint shadows under my eyes, I think. Whether I’m actually managing to look the same as always — I’m not sure.
I roll the sausages around the frying pan without much purpose. Unable to move freely, tossed around by someone else’s will — they remind me of myself right now.
I want to finish getting breakfast ready for the three of them and retreat to my room as quickly as I can. Even with Dad and Shiho-san here today, the thought of sitting at an awkward table isn’t something I want.
“Morning, Onee-chan.”
“—!”
I startled badly, my whole body lurching. A sausage jumped out of the pan and sent oil spattering across the cooker.
“Oh— morning. You’re… up early today.”
“Wow, that smells incredible. Is there anything I can help with?”
I looked away from Ao as she peered into the pan.
Does she know — or is she pretending not to.
“…It’s fine. Take it easy.”
I murmured it and set my hands moving again. The skin on a sausage split open, and a warm, savoury smell spread through the kitchen.
Sunday meant Shiho-san had the day off too, so today would be the first time all four of us were together since that first night. Time together as a family mattered — but today I’d decided to focus on studying. If I didn’t have something to concentrate on, I felt like I might come apart.
I got breakfast ready for the three of them, let Ao know it was done where she was relaxing on the sofa, and shut myself in my room.
Time spent facing my desk meant not having to think about anything else. I worked through lunch carelessly and kept going, and by the time I noticed, the street lights outside had come on.
The four of us at the table together was warm and bright, so easy and familiar it almost felt like we’d always been this family. The hamburgers Ao and Shiho-san had made together were a little lopsided, but I thought they were wonderful.
Honestly, I didn’t have the composure to pay attention to the taste.
“What were you up to today, Yuna-chan?”
“Studying. The midterms are coming up soon.”
I answered while putting a piece of sweet glazed carrot in my mouth. A bit firm, but it didn’t bother me — two people who weren’t used to it had worked hard to make this.
“Is that so. You’re so capable at everything, Yuna-chan — it almost worries me a little.”
“She really is. You don’t have to push yourself to cook for us, you know? There’s always delivery.”
“Cooking is genuinely fine. Studying is… I just do it because I want to.”
I answered their worried faces with a clumsy smile and traced the beads of condensation on my glass. If I tilted it just a little, Ao sitting beside me might be reflected there.
“If only Ao would take a little more after you. I know she works hard, but.”
“I help out too. I just can’t do everything like Onee-chan can.”
The Ao who talked with Shiho-san looked slightly different from the Ao at school, and slightly different from the Ao who talked with me. The unfamiliar version of her kept drawing my attention against my will.
“Thank you. For everything.”
I stole a glance at Ao’s expression. It had gone soft, almost melting.