FIVE BROKEN FIFTHS
I woke up again to the sound of the alarm clock, but the energy to do things as I always did was something I haven't known for how long I had been missing. I got up, sat on my bed, and like every day, I set aside a small portion of my time that I don't even care to be wasting, to think about how our days have been lived.
In the dark room, I got up with a deep breath. My legs have never jumped out of bed with the same intensity since that day. I didn't feel like doing any of that anymore, and at times, even the passive act of living living seemed like a challenge that wasn't worth taking.
... But what kind of right would I have to say that, being known as the person I am?
In slow steps, I made my way to the door. I no longer bother removing curtains from my window or trivial things like that, since all my energy was being invested in the mere act of making a sign with my lips. A smile.
I opened the door, revealing a lighted corridor. Right there, right after the stairs, I could see something depressing ... Without doing or thinking about anything, the first thing I did was to walk in hurried but silent steps, down there.
After that, we were all forced to return to the cage we once left so long ago. We lived for all that time imagining never having to return. The glass walls, true prisons, keep us captive in this place, showing the vast outside world beyond itself. In the end, we had to return to the same well from which we emerged.
Downstairs, the first one I saw made me feel sad ... Very sad. But I couldn't give up my smile, so, no matter how much it trembled, I had to keep moving forward ... Moving forward for them all.
At the dinner table, I saw a figure very similar to my lying, fainted on the wood. She, with her red hair and star-shaped ornaments, rested her head on the smooth, cold surface in an uncomfortable way. Her eyes were tired ... She shouldn't have slept well for days.
Under her crossed arms, several books were visible to me. Materials of the most diverse subjects, but all related to school life ... Sister ... How long have you been studying without stopping, like this ...?
She never stopped. For days, weeks on end. She read books on top of books, made huge summaries about each one of them, always looking for the supreme learning, the desire to generate ever greater results. At no time did my beloved sister cease this process, always chasing more and more of this unsubstantiated wisdom.
Results. That is the word that has come to define her life in the last few months, since the day of that tragedy. Numbers on paper have become her very self-esteem, her will to live.
And she has destroyed herself in this way ... She skipped meals, which we would never have imagined she would do, given her previous behavior. Just to keep on studying and studying, offering these pathetic results, these empty numbers written in red ink.
She does not stop. No matter what you ask for, no matter how much you beg. Nothing can stop her from chasing the damn results ... She also tries to motivate us to do this, always in a more and more fanatical way...
For now, all I can do is cover her body with this blanket that I carried with me, trying to provide a minimum of comfort to my beloved younger sister, who was born right after me. Sliding a hand over her hair, I reinforced my love for her with a gesture of affection.
"Get plenty of rest, Itsuki."
... ... ...
The kitchen ... Ah, that hellish noise ...! I couldn't deny hating that sound, but just the sound, not the person who does it. That person is one that I would never stop loving.
Impacts. One over the other. A metallic object that makes rough contact with a wooden board, like a hammer hit. This sound has contaminated every morning within this voluntary prison to which we submit.
From there, i could see the shape of her person. An almost perfect reflection, just like the other... With the mere exception of the hair, which was now quite long. I remembered that she had cut them ... She looked better with short hair.
A dead gaze, focused on a single point, always looking down, at the heap of vegetables being sliced by a knife without sharpening, but that still shone like nothing in the world. Her graceful gestures never changed, but one thing was missing.
The color she always displayed. Everything was now just a huge gradient with shades of gray. And like a machine, she went on, cutting and slicing.
Over time, since that one day, she has been gradually distancing herself from us. She still talks to us from time to time, but nothing more than a simple "yes", "no", or a very simple sentence to tell "dinner is ready", before her patience runs out completely and she starts to get angry.
Sourness took over her, like a possessive spirit. If before you had the unique and lovely temperament of a slice of pineapple, now it burned your mouth, like someone trying to consume several lemons at once.
There was no way to talk to her anymore. My second older sister had become hateful to the cumulus. She lost all of her friends, and now she was seen as a person to be avoided by everyone and at all costs.
Her friends, who always followed her everywhere? Distant now, spreading terrible rumors and gossip about her behavior.
The boys who appreciated her beauty? Disgusted by her terrible temper to the summit ...
She now suffered from the pain of isolation, growing around herself a bark of thorns sharper and more painful than any she had ever used in her life, protecting herself in her own world from disappointments and self-hatred.
I constantly try to help and show that I am there, but she never tells me anything... About the things people write on her desk and the hurtful things they say. She always smiles proudly, pretending not to care, but I know that is far from being the case.
Did she wait for that terrible blow of fate... The one who had become so attached to him, to the point of giving up everything and running like a train in search of her goal?
She blamed herself for everything. Every night I hear her crying, in a low tone, in her room, and even drowned out by the pillow, I can discover the sound of all her whimpering behind the door. In her mind, all the blame for that belonged to her alone.
"What if I had been better to him?", "He might not have disappeared if I hadn't been so mean.", "Maybe he hated me and it was all my fault." ... These are some examples of the distorted rationalizations that she preached to herself in her sleep bed, always ... Always blaming herself for everything again and again ...
... Even so, she never gave up, after all, my sister is like unstoppable. I can see how much she is putting effort on studying and trying to get better grades, considering everything she's been living.
After all, she loved him way differently than any of us.
And I, too, will love her forever.
"Be well, Nino."
... ... ...
An empty room. The owner of that space had not returned in days, the grace of her presence disappearing from the eyes of all of us for a long time. The door was locked, and only she had the key, so I couldn't go in even if I wanted to.
In slow steps, I went up the stairs and put my hand on the cold knob, just like all the other doors in that corridor, and almost as if hopeful, I pushed forward a little ...
Nothing. I should have known, shouldn't I? She didn't come home in the middle of the night.
The older sister, the most responsible of us, the one who endured the pain for all of us after the death of our beloved mother that we keep as a treasure in our hearts.
She was still trying to do the same, even today ... But now, she had other reasons, and with that, new demands came up.
She worked until she passed out, always pushing her body to the limit, expending all her energy ... There were countless times that she refused to stop working, to bring support to her sisters, even if that was no longer necessary.
After all, she had to remain the older sister, didn't she? I saw her make that choice, and sink more and more into the life she leads today ... All this to show an image, to show us that she remains the one who watches over us.
She acts in films. Her luck is scarce with the industry, however, and all the work she has done is cheap production, which pay very little for having a bad quality ... And she makes several of them at the same time, drawing energy from where she doesn't have and time that she should dedicate to herself. Thanks to that, she can stay weeks in sucession away from school.
Lately, I found a certain leaflet in her room, and I couldn't hide my concern, after all, I would never agree to see my older sister making that kind of film that only adults could watch.
She was seriously considering that sort of thing, the business of selling herself like that.
I remember having confronted her in front of everyone about this, talking about how much she didn't really need to do that, I tried to convince her not to take this kind of path ...
And she ... Just smiled at me. A fake, plastic smile, but one that was always used as a kind of pillar, even if in the long run it was almost falling apart.
She wanted to cry... And I could do nothing to prevent her from leaving the house and doing that again. The cigarette packs in her room ... Those strange and numerous marks, small and round, everywhere by her arms, that always forced her to keep wearing long sleeves ...
One day, I heard it from my room. She was not doing well. She was breathing very deeply, sweating, and with those bulging eyes, almost like the eyes of a dead person, but moving and pulsing.
And the strangest of it all... She was... I can't bring myself to say it...
Everything she did was for us, always destroying herself, wearing herself out ... Using her best to continue showing that she will forever be the strongest and most responsible of all, the older sister.
Please, sister ... Please stop doing this to yourself ... After all, none of this really matters anymore.
"Please be fine, Ichika."
... ... ...
Sounds coming from a door. Something unconscious compelled me to make my steps over there. Looking from the bottom, I could see a faint light, blue and blinking, that came out from below.
A constant click sound was all that was heard from that eternally locked door. It had been several weeks since I last saw the person behind.
My third older sister, the middle sister among the five of us ... The link that had completely separated over time.
A slight unpleasant odor arose from there. It was not known how long ago that door or window had not been opened for more than five consecutive seconds.
Her life now was all about living in a room. She became a complete recluse after a while. In the early days, my middle sister still showed up in the living room, always staring at the door, watching, in complete silence, always waiting for him to arrive.
"He will appear." She always said every time that any of us threatened to question that conspiracy created by her head. But it always went on, more and more silent.
I don't even remember when I last heard her speak. Even though it was a voice so much like my own, its slightly tired and melodic tone was all I wanted to hear at the moment.
I tried to knock on the door. No reply. So it has been all this time.
She became more and more reclusive and silent. Started to go out less, talk less ... Until the day she just stopped doing both. Now, her life was reduced to playing video games over the internet, living a new and ideal life in any RPG. Gradually, she separated from us, ceasing to be such an important bond.
Day after day, I saw one of my reflections become more and more blurred.
She stayed up late, always past the wee hours of the morning, playing with people around the world, trapped in her own cage. She has also stopped going to school altogether, and there is always a painful silence when any teacher calls her name. Because of that, her grades had dropped to the rock bottom.
Is she okay? Healthy? What is she eating? What if she gets sick? There was no way for any of us to know, and she wouldn't let us know. We just knew that she was alive, and that ended up being everything we could lean on.
The sister who was supposed to be my polar opposite had now become something very distant from what it was originally, a fragment darkened by the shadows of a locked room, cold and lonely, but somehow still more comfortable than the harsh reality from the outside world, more welcoming than having to watch it all unfold.
I can't get myself to judge her for that, the decision to want to run away, I mean. If I could, I would also do the same.
I wouldn't be surprised if everyone thought that she was dead ... Maybe that's what you want them to think, sister?
Did you also die inside like the rest of us, and become a twisted and broken fifth, unable to form a whole again?
"I feel the same way too, Miku."
... ... ...
And so we have been living our days, like five parts that no longer form an integer. I wonder how many times I tried to fix this whole situation myself, to make my sisters go back to being minimally happy, even if in an imperfect way.
After all, I have to be strong for them. I have an obligation to keep smiling. No matter how long it takes ... I have to keep following my role, that of being the stupid, dumb and childish sister, the one that makes everyone smile.
/
There were rare times when we went out to school together, and today was no different. Itsuki left very early, as she started to do, being followed by Nino, who left breakfast cooked in the kitchen.
I left soon after, and still thought about knocking on Miku's door and asking her to get out and have some sunlight, but I soon realized that it would be in vain.
Packing my things, however, I realized that something was missing, a very important thing.
"Oh? Where's my amulet? "
I tried to search everywhere in my room, in my backpack, and even in my clothes, but I couldn't find that nice little piece of memory.
"Oh no ... Did I drop it somewhere in the school?"
A little crestfallen, I decided that I couldn't stay there, no matter how much I wanted to do that ... And looking at myself in the mirror for one last time, I said something to my own reflection.
"Smile, Yotsuba. It is your duty to keep smiling."
I leave the house, the cold breeze hitting my short hair, making it flutter a little. There was still plenty of time to start classes, but I decided to leave early to have the opportunity, perhaps, to look for what I dropped somewhere, so I decided to do the same route as last day.
... ... ...
"Help me...! Oh my God! Get that thing away from me! Take that monster away, Lukas...!"
"What's the matter, Mike? It's only a cute little puppy! Oh, little thing, are you lost? Here, have a piece of my tuna sandwich!"
Some distance away, a boy in our school uniform was offering a piece of sandwich to a cute puppy. A collar was around its neck, so I assumed it should have an owner.
"No! Don't feed it! It's the devil ...! Help me, oh my God ...! "
"No, Mike! It's a scared and hungry puppy that just wants some affection from you!"
The little puppy playfully ran after the boy, that only tried to distance from it.
"Make this thing stop following me...!"
... The second boy screamed in panic, as if he were highly frightened. He hid behind a light pole, avoiding approaching the animal, who did the exact opposite.
"Lukas, it's gonna kill me ...! Help! Help ...! "
The two were speaking in English, so I couldn't quite understand what exactly they were talking about, but for some reason that scene managed to get my attention.
That boy behind the pole ... Shiruba[1]-san, isn't it? He was the one who bumped me yesterday ...
I realized that I was wasting too much time thinking about it, and I decided to continue my lonely path to school.
/
I had no luck looking for my amulet... It was almost the end of the day and not even a sign of it ... Such an important memory, being lost like that in time ...
"I really am terribly clumsy..."
No. I have to keep smiling. This careless behavior is only part of what everyone appreciates about Nakano Yotsuba, isn't it?
... ... ...
I don't know how long I will be able to endure this ...
... ... ...
I entered the library, with a hand full of several sheets, all the questions and tests that the silly and idiotic Yotsuba was unable to answer ...
"I am a big idiot..."
They all blame themselves for this, but they forget the real culprit, the one who put them in this terrible situation, the one of all five who failed the test for a good school, and as a result, pulled them all to that deep hole, the only Nakano Yotsuba ... Me.
If there is anyone they should blame, it should be me ...
I sat there, looking like a landscape at those papers with questions and numbers that I can't even begin to understand. It all became a messy maze in my head ... All the "x" and "y" and plus and minus...
"I really am the dumbest ..."
... ... ...
"Excuse me, Nakano Yotsuba-san?" A voice spoke in my vicinity.
Huh ...?
It was him. That boy. Why were we almost meeting so much today? It's been three times already... In the same day. How did he know my name?
"I think this belongs to you, right? You dropped it when we bumped yesterday, so i've been trying to find you, to give it back. "
That is ... That's it!
"Oh ... This is ... This is my amulet ...! I've been looking all day! Thank you so much for returning! "
"Don't mention it. I saw you walking by and decided to follow ... Uh, is that Yoshida-sensei's questions? Those were quite something, indeed. Took me almost an hour to get 'em done. " After taking a quick peek at my sheets, he started moving away.
... Wait, he ...
"You ...!" My mouth moved on its own. I couldn't stop the following words from emerging.
"Uh ... Yes?" He stopped walking and looked at me.
... ... ...
"Can you ... Help me, please ...?"
AUTHOR NOTES
[1] - Mike's surname - Silva - is pronounced as "Shiruba" by the Japanese.
The chapter exposed how each one of the quintuplets was differently affected by Fuutarou's death. Each one of those aspects is going to be developed as the story goes. Once he died, they were compelled to go back to their father's residence.