"That girl... what does she mean to you?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"She's annoying." He was chopping onions, the action mechanical, his knife tapping against the cutting board in a rhythm so perfect that it was as if someone stood in the background with a metronome, requiring the chef to keep time in his movements. "And she talks too much."
"You seem to spend a lot of time with her."
"She'd complain if I didn't."
"You don't have to listen to her. You didn't have to invite her over for dinner."
"Nn."
"I think you're in love with her."
"Neesan." The chopping stopped. He looked up, across the counter and to the table, his face set in a frown. "I already told you."
She glanced away. "Ah..."
"You're trying to push me away."
"Ayumu, I--"
"I understand." His voice was quiet, dangerous. "You still love aniki."
"Ayumu..."
"We're growing apart."
"That's not--"
"It's fine." There came the sound of the front door opening and he bowed his head, laughing bitterly, the sound striking at her heart with a blow strong enough to damage but not to break. "I can pretend."
"Why...?"
"You said so yourself... the last time. I could grow to love her." He was turning from the counter, taking off his apron, something sad in his eyes, as if he'd been dealt a wound that would be impossible to heal. "But you need to push me away... so I can do that."
"Ayumu--"
"There has to be distance between us." He went to the door. "And you can't push hard enough."
"Good evening, Narumi-san!"
She came through the door and he chuckled, accepting her into his arms, and Madoka had to look away as they kissed, knowing very well that it was all a lie and it was all her fault, and feeling (even if just for a moment) a shred of jealousy for that girl who was so in love with her brother-in-law and too blind to see the truth. She had been like that herself, once, and wished she could be like that again, but the past would not repeat itself for her... only for them.
