Burning the Midnight Oil

Chapter 6

Breakdown

~Nino~

It wasn't a dream, more of a memory. She existed in time before money and finer living, when five were similar in every way but name. The outside world was merely the canvas that they colored in five uniform tea rose strokes. The only thing capable of halting their united fellowship was their mother, who might as well have been God. Their mother said there was right and wrong, and it was so, and she enforced those rigid boundaries with an iron fist. With five clever daughters, a playpen with firm walls was her only means of control. And yet the field inside that pen was wide and endless enough for their tiny legs to traverse without ever seeing its limits. It was a happy life, one she longed to return to one day.

And yet not all was pleasant in paradise. Their God was neither omnipresent or omnipotent, and the weight of the world and her daughters strained her energy like a tick sucking the life from her veins, growing larger as she shrank smaller and smaller, until one day she just disappeared. It was a slow, enduring retreat, yet she hid it admirably behind the walls of their Eden. Yet even then, five little girls still new to the world could see something was wrong. But none of them knew what they could do. They were so small inside their little world, and if their sisters didn't know what to do, how could they, the same person, do any better?

Until one day she stepped away from her sisters. She pushed in her chair at the table and joined her mother in the kitchen as she vigorously prepared their evening meal. For a moment their mother stopped and looked at her questioningly. She, the sister who broke their delicate harmony. She looked up and announced, "I want to cook too!"

And so it was her that took the first step outside their walls. And when she looked back she saw her sisters leaping across the boundary one by one and marveling at this brave new world to explore. But they didn't follow her, instead they pursued different directions and interests until they were no longer the same. In the years that followed she tried assembling new walls to unite them, and when that failed to contain them she built another to keep others away. Still she failed, and she and her sisters drifted just a little bit further into the horizon. How long until they were out of sight?

And then the world began to shake, the ground around her crumbled and she fell into an abyss, and none of her sisters were close enough to catch her.

"Nino, wake up."

"Mmm, hmph?"

"You were asleep."

Nino blinked and sat up, "Was I?"

"You were," Futaro said.

Nino rubbed her eyes and said, "Sorry, I'll get back to it." She picked up her pencil and followed the questions until she found where she left off.

Futaro said, "Nino, what are you doing?"

"I said I'm sorry, didn't mean to fall asleep during study session. I'm okay now, let's do this."

"Nino, we're at work."

She paused, then looked up and realized she was sitting in the cake shop's employee lounge. She must've fallen asleep on break trying to finish Futaro's assignment. She checked the clock and realized she'd gone twenty minutes over her break. She said, "Oh no. Did the manager tell you to get me? He's gonna be furious."

"You don't need to worry about that."

"As if. It's the dinner rush, he's-"

"I said don't worry about it," Futaro said, leaning over her to look at her assignment. He flipped to the last page and stared, then let go and said, "The manager says you can head home early after you clean the baking equipment. Finish the rest there."

She checked the clock, it was barely past six. She had another two hours on her shift and the manager never let anyone go early on a busy night. She said, "Why would he do that, I didn't ask to go." Futaro shifted awkwardly and she realized, "What'd you tell him?"

"I didn't say anything."

"Liar. You're as bad as Yotsuba."

"I am not!"

"Close enough."

Futaro sighed and rubbed his temple, "What does it matter. Just finish up and go home already." He left before she could reply, heading to the dining area and away from any possible follow-up she might brew. He'd never been so adamant about avoiding her, what was he up to? Was this pity? Did he see her as weak? She scowled at the thought, if he knew the half of what she put up with he wouldn't dare think less of her.

She sighed and put away her assignment and wondered why Futaro bothered writing in their names this time. She returned to the kitchen and met the manager as he finished icing a vanilla cake. She said, "Excuse me, I heard that I'm to leave after cleaning the baking stuff."

The manager peaked and smiled, "Ah, yeah, Futaro told me everything earlier. Feel free to cut out early."

"Okay, thanks...what exactly did he say?"

"Probably too much," he said, bringing her closer, "I know it feels like your world will never be the same, but cheer up, you still have plenty of time to find someone who'll love you again."

Ah, so that's what he said. Clever, tactless and rude all at the same time. Classic Futaro. Prick.

She said, "Oh, well, thank you for time to recover from my rejection."

"No worries, sad workers bake sad cakes, can't have you ruining our reputation."

Nino stormed to the sink and quickly scrubbed the mixers clean and the bowls to a shine, then grabbed her things and headed for the door. It felt strange to leave the shop while the sun lingered in the sky to greet her. The shop would be experiencing its evening rush soon, a flood of hungry after-dinner guests and office workers seeking their guilty pleasure after their daily slog.

Not that she had much relief of her own to look forward to, she had chores, homework and Futaro's assignment to complete before she could dream of rest. But at least she had time to worry about all that now, once she dealt with whatever chaos her sisters were brewing like witches over a cauldron of ill intent.

She battled a yawn walking upstairs. Just one more day, she told herself, make it through that and you'll have the whole weekend to make up lost hours. She could handle a little exhaustion until then.

She opened the door and Ichika greeted her, "Nino! You're home early."

"If you're worried about rent, I have enough hours to cover my share."

"Oh it's not that, I'm just so glad to see you!"

"Uh-huh. What is it?"

"...Itsuki's trying to cook." This was code-speak for 'save us'.

As with Miku and Yotsuba, Itsuki had a fatal flaw to her cooking that was all her own. Like Yotsuba it was not quality, Itsuki's food could rival hers with enough time to prep. But that was the problem: time. A good kitchen ran on efficiency. Itsuki's cooking was a labor in certainty as she meticulously checked every step of the process like she were turning lead into gold one atom at a time. It'd be hours and five grumbling bellies before she actually plated anything.

Nino stepped into the kitchen and tapped Itsuki's shoulders, "What're you making?"

"Fried rice," she said. Nino noted she had yet to start the rice cooker.

She said, "Mind if I take over? I'm in a cooking mood." She had to phrase it this way. If she were honest and told her she couldn't stand by watching Itsuki drag her ass in the kitchen, it'd put Itsuki's pride on the line and she'd never send her away.

Itsuki said, "It's fine, I found an interesting recipe I want to try."

"Itsuki," Nino continued, "I'm in a cooking mood."

And that was it. This was Nino's territory and she reigned supreme, when she put her foot down, it stayed there. Itsuki resigned and handed over the apron. Nino donned it and got to work chopping, caramelizing, mixing, heating and serving.

Truth be told she'd prefer it if someone else had done the cooking tonight just so she could use the time to finish the rest of her housework. But this was her role, the homemaker of the Nakano household, and she kept a house that her sisters wanted to come home to every day. Coming home to her.

Dinner was served with little fanfare. Itsuki gathered their waters and napkins as Miku helped carry plates laden with steaming fried rice to the table. The five gathered around the table and gave their thanks before digging in. Nino received no spoken thanks for her deed, and she didn't need it. In fact she felt renewed vigor inside her at having provided for her sisters, she took pride in her coveted duty.

Yotsuba said, "Ichika, your movie premiers next week, doesn't it?"

"That's right, next Wednesday."

"Wow! It's gonna be a blast!"

Itsuki asked, "So we won't be seeing you that night with everything going on, will we?"

"You can, if you turn to the right channel."

"Our cable package is too small," Miku said.

"Not for much longer if this movie picks up."

Nino asked, "Oh? So you're getting a percentage?"

"A small one, nothing compared to the leads."

Itsuki said, "But this might be it for you, there's a lot of buzz around it."

"I know," she said, then reached into her pocket and pulled out a pair of fancy tickets, souvenirs for the premiere, "I'm sorry, but I was only able to get one extra ticket to the premiere. Looks like I can't take everyone."

Yotsuba said, "That's alright! It's up to you, after all. We'll watch it together once it's out."

Miku's gaze drifted to her meal, "So who will you bring?"

Ichika sighed, "I haven't asked yet, but I have someone in mind. Sorry, Miku."

Nino caught the look in her eye, a mischievous glint like hellfire catching the devil's pitchfork. She wanted to play the dangerous game. How could she even think of asking him away for a night when he was under enough stress as it was? But she hadn't seen what she did, she caught him with his guard down and his exhaustion in full view. So she fumed, knowing that she would stay back while Ichika tried pressing her claim.

Miku said, "I'd decline anyway. Futaro and I are going to the library that night."

Ichika, you are a marvelous actress, and so quick on your feet! Nino only caught the slightest twinge of irritation rush through her face like a lightning strike, she covered it so well she almost looked happy for Miku. She said, "Oh, how nice for you. You two."

Itsuki glanced at Nino and in a rare case of sister telepathy they both agreed that this was a powder keg waiting to go off. Nino shrugged as if saying she told her so. Not that Nino wasn't a third of the gunpowder, or even the spark. She was so taken by Miku's brilliant display that it was only a minute later that she asked herself if Miku wasn't kidding. Had this all been a move to keep Ichika in check, or were they really going to read books for an evening? Just the two of them, all alone. She fumed that it better be a lie.

Dinner ended without further event and they moved onto their assignments. All their teachers were going strictly by the books made to prepare their darling pupils for the mock exams. Their math teacher had taken to stomping his foot if any piece of information was, ahem, 'likely to be utilized in the coming month'.

An hour was all it took working together and the sisters moved onto Futaro's assignment. He must have read ahead, it was clearly made to reinforce what they covered in lecture and in the homework. Trust the human database to tailor something so appropriate as a photo to a fitting frame. Futaro's method of teaching was walking the sisters up to the edge of a cliff and pushing them into the ocean, then shouting the basics of the doggy paddle as they tried not to drown. It was cruel. It was merciless. It was effective. Working on regular assignments was like paddling in the shallow end of the pool compared to the Challenger Deep of Futaro's work. They once challenged Futaro on the difficulty curve of his assignments, he looked confused and said he thought it was easy. Of course he does, he's more calculator than man.

It was nearly nine when they reached the end of it. Nino flipped to the last page and found seven questions connected to a reading passage. She blinked when the lines began to blur and multiply. She wiped the haze from her eyes and read the passage before answering as best she could, feeling more confidant than six months ago, she noted. She reached the final question, blinked when it had nothing to do with the passage, and read it over again.

'I'm sorry, I want to talk to you again. Please forgive me'.

"Miku, can I see your paper?" Nino asked. Miku handed it over and Nino examined the last page by pretending to compare answers. That last question wasn't here. She glanced sideways to Itsuki's and found it absent again.

Futaro, you're an idiot who can only communicate through studies! How many chances had he had today to tell her the same thing? Was he afraid of talking to her in person? Maybe, he had avoided her after her confession like she was one of his family's debtors. He wasn't a person to take a challenge standing tall, he'd rather squat over a desk and run it over with a mental rolling pin until he solved it or ran out of pencil lead, whichever came first.

But that was Futaro, wasn't it? And as paltry as it may be to her, he did take the first, tepid step. This was his effort at making things better. He always did his best the only way he knew how. So she answered, wearing a small smile as she wrote,

'Me too. I forgive you.'

She knew she should have ended it there, but her heart was still unpleasant with the feeling of Miku meeting Futaro alone. It roared and demanded to be heard again, released from the cage she fashioned for it. Her heart shifted the blood coursing through her hand in a spell, flowing into five extra words,

'And I still love you.'

She covered the last page and slid them forward before reaching for the ceiling in a long, back-arcing stretch that was like an inquisition rooting the tension from her body and casting it into the deepest dungeon. You better appreciate this, Futaro, she thought. She'd be watching him check her work, he'd better acknowledge her.

One by one the sisters finished their work and reclaimed their evening. Nino enjoyed a half hour TV program with her sisters, a recording from earlier in the day. It had become a practice of patience to save their entertainment for after their schoolwork, a proposition that would've been crucified six months prior. How much they've changed. A half hour of their favorite soap opera should've been enough to settle her nerves for the night. But her eyes staggered to Miku's lackadaisical expression and she wondered if she'd been telling the truth. Was there more going on than she thought? Had someone moved ahead of her already? And if so, was Futaro only playing with her? Would he laugh when he saw her answer? She flushed with embarrassed irritation, hiding it in her hands.

The show ended and her sisters began rotating through the bath. She'd be the last, as was expected. She had her own evening routine to finish. She brought out the vacuum and cleaned the floors, then she scrubbed all her cooking ware from their evening meal. And just as she was finished Itsuki decided she wanted an evening snack. Nino sighed and waited for her to finish the bowl. Itsuki insisted she could handle it and Nino refused like always. She was gloved up, this was her duty.

Her sisters started turning in for the night when she began prepping tomorrow's lunch boxes. It was a new entry to her chore list, one dictated by economic necessity. It used to be an afterthought how they'd purchase meals in the cafeteria, she'd never prepared lunch boxes before. But as their budget slimmed and the impact of their daily meals burned holes in their wallets, she opted to pack lunches for her sisters. As part of their apartment warming, she'd insisted on buying lunch boxes for their future meals. They each had a color: red for her, pink for Ichika, blue for Miku, yellow for Yotsuba, and green for Itsuki. Tonight she decided a simple arrangement of rice, vegetables and a small portion of meat was easy enough to prepare. It added up to thousands of saved yen a week. Her bracelet was reward for their lunchtime frugality.

She heated oil in the skillet while she breaded thin slices of pork, then dipped them into hot oil to fry. As she waited for them to cook she loaded their lunch boxes with rice and vegetables. To think their lives would change so drastically from their decision to leave. If she'd known every little impact their choice would lead to, including these late nights, would she still have elected to do it? Her sisters, maybe, but they didn't have the burden of housework like her. And she'd grown to love their bountiful lifestyles, never having to check her wallet and count the bills. It was a liberty she missed. Her wallet was so light and felt so heavy.

Maybe she should open her chores up to her sisters. Ichika had done the same when she demanded they all search for work and they were getting by just the same. But she rejected the thought outright after briefly entertaining it, like a king tossing out a guest of honor the moment he walked through the door. It was her place to provide the home that brought her family together. Without that, what would keep them from drifting even further apart? She couldn't trust them with that level of responsibility, it had to be her.

And then she smelled it, the smell of burning, neglect and failure. She turned and found the pork overcooking in the oil.

"No! No no no!" She cried as she took it off the heat. The oil danced like fireworks, drops leaped out and attacked her hand. She yelped and cursed, shaking her hands and rushing them under the cold tap. And all the while the pork kept burning. By the time her hands were treated the pork was beyond saving.

She cursed herself. First rule of cooking was safety, the second was never take your attention away from anything on fire. That little piglet died for their meal, its sacrifice was in vain now. And that wasn't even considering the wasted money, meat wasn't cheap, and she'd wasted it. It was all her fault, when did she start making such avoidable mistakes?

She bagged up the burnt meat and threw it in the garbage. She would have gone right back to cooking, but the smell of burnt meat irked her, like meeting your ex-lover with his new bride on his arm; especially if it was your sister, she mused. She took the trash bag and tied it tight, then put on her shoes and stormed into the cold to throw it in the dumpster. It must have rained between her return and now because the dirt she walked through was muddy and sucked at her feet as she walked. No matter, she was a woman on a warpath. She threw the evidence of her inattentiveness into the trash like lobbing a hot grenade into an enemy foxhole and beat a hasty retreat to the comfort of home.

When she returned she found she'd lost her appetite for cooking. She'd give it another go later, for now she wanted to attack something and beat it into submission to restore her pride. She took her cleaning carrier and entered the unholiest of hells: the bathroom.

She sprinkled cleaner into the toilet bowl, then took the toilet wand and scrubbed like she were a fencer seeking first blood of the torso. She poured all of her frustration into her arm, as if it would enter the bristles and fuel their drive to attack every last remnant of waste. She thought of Futaro and his oblivious insensitivity. Who was she? Why couldn't he just tell? Did it not matter to him at all? She got the damn earrings to broadcast it like twin lighthouses on a stormy cliff, but why couldn't he just know!?

And then she pictured him with Miku at the library, the pair nestled into a love seat reading their selections. And slowly, like a leaf falling in autumn, Miku's head dipped onto his shoulder. He didn't flinch.

Would Futaro be able to tell if it were Miku?

She roared in frustration and drained the toilet, the white flag of surrender. Another effort wasted, nothing had changed or improved. She patted the wand and restored it to its holster. Next she would attack the sink. She turned-

There was mud on the floor. Footsteps leading right to her. She gasped as she realized she'd forgotten to take off her shoes at the entrance. What had she done? Mud at the entryway, mud in the hall, mud in the kitchen and mud here too! How could she be so stupid? Again!?

In a rage that would make a lion tremble she tore off the offending footwear and hurled them at the door. They rang like an intruding guest, once, twice, each time leaving two muddy marks on the white door before tumbling lamely to the floor.

In the silence that followed anything could have happened. Her sisters, if only one was light enough asleep, could have risen from slumber to investigate and saved her from her fears. She could offer Nino the words she needed to hear and give her comfort from her mistakes that echoed into failure. But that didn't happen. Nino was left alone with a muddied floor, burnt meat and a mess she could not clean. And in that mess she saw the inevitability of her failure.

She could never recreate their childhood Eden. She could never create a home her sisters would always call their own. One by one they would leave, drifting beyond her sight like ships sailing for uncharted lands. And she would remain, alone, motherless, sisterless. Their paradise was forever lost, and all her clawing to get it back just left scars.

Nino fell to the floor she could never polish to a shine, leaned against the tub covered with grime that she could never wipe free, and curled into a ball to hide from despair. But it found her all the same, as it always does, for despair is a hunter. One can hide from it, one may outrun it for a time, but it will always find its mark. And as it claimed her she wept silently for all she knew was lost, for the strength she never had to fight it, and for the loneliness that seemed all she would know.

Nino was falling, falling, falling further into that abyss.

A/N

Perhaps I should take a moment to discuss my purpose in writing. I'm a regular lurker on this story's subreddit and am familiar with the factions regarding the sisters. I myself favor Nino, though nowhere near as some in the Nino Gang seem to. My reason for writing this romance isn't because I want to see her with Futaro. I like the idea, but it isn't my primary reason. Allow me to explain.

George R. R. Martin said that the only story worth telling is the human heart at war with itself. I firmly agree with this sentiment, and so when I write, I try to write that conflict at its core. I believe at this point, both Futaro's and Nino's personal conflicts are understandable to readers, and note that they are not directly tied with romance. Each person brings to a relationship their own burdens and understandings, and that can fuel or divide a couple; it can break them or make them grow stronger. That's what this story is about. That's what I was struck by one night as I pondered the plot, and found that I had a story to tell.

So tell it I shall. To the end if I can. And the response I've received has proven to me that it's been worth putting these thoughts to word. I'm pleased that you've found something worthwhile in this story, and hope that you will continue to do so. Please review and tell me what I'm doing right and what I need to improve, and I'll take that and make this story as polished and meaningful as I can.

Chapter published April 11th, 2019.