Burning the Midnight Oil

Chapter 17

Homecoming

~Miku~

Love is fast, and slow. It is fleeting, and eternal. It is numbing, and overwhelming. It is everything at once, a concept so fundamental to the human experience that any try to capture it in language is simultaneously wrong and right. And so love is universally impossible to describe. It can only be peered at at an angle, as if one looks out the window and thinks it is all that there is to see. Love its born in an instant, or over a life, or somewhere in between; it lives and breathes its own experience shared between people in a lonely world.

Like all love, Miku's was the same as any other in being wholly unique. It was born in a flash, a seed planted in fertile soil she watered daily with hope. It was planted from something so innocuous she was certain she was the only one who remembered it. It was only a cooking contest, after all. She couldn't remember why she'd agreed to it in the first place. Maybe it was a burst of pride, something only embarrassing with hindsight. Who was she, a girl who couldn't fry an egg without burning it, to challenge anyone, let alone her? It wasn't even a challenge. Or she shouldn't have. If the judge were anyone else, it would have been no contest.

After all, this was Nino. Her talented, outspoken, sociable older sister. Cooking wasn't even her only talent, it was a footnote in a resume that fought for room on the page. The girl could step into a room and belong as naturally as colors blending in sunset. Even her weaknesses, her grades, never held her back. She was never ashamed, but embraced everything about who she was. She owned herself in a way Miku never would. How had five wildly different quintuplets emerge from carbon-copy templates? Where did Nino find that indominable drive, and why couldn't Miku find her own? Or maybe they weren't really the same. Maybe talent, social skills, and loveability were divided unequally in the womb and she was left with a sliver of the pie, and as it rose in the oven of childhood her unequal portion became a glaring omission against her mountainous sisters.

She'd watched Nino develop her budding cooking skills from when they were girls, ever since she dramatically proclaimed she wanted to cook. She'd stand on the tips of her toes like a ballerina to handle pots on the stove. Her early achievements were decisively negative, notably that time she managed to set fire while boiling water. But she didn't give up. She hogged the TV devouring cooking shows in that brief window before dinner prep, then she'd mirror the masters while preparing their evening meal. And when Ichika managed to steal the remote and switch to their soaps, Nino picked up mother's cook book and spent hours devouring recipes like her sisters later devoured her results. And over the years, she improved. After mother passed away, she took over the kitchen, it became her territory, and she ensured they never missed a hot meal without mother.

And Miku wanted to be the same, in her own way. She wanted to excel somewhere, to be a provider for those she loved. There was one thing Miku was objectively better at than her sisters: studies. But who could brag about that when their combined scores barely totaled a hundred? She'd thought she could fill that void in their lives left by their mother, like Nino filled their bellies and Yotsuba carried their spirits. She would help her sisters graduate together, as mother had wanted. And she'd tried, oh how she'd struggled to help them pass. But their scores continued to plummet after mother died, and she couldn't figure out how to stop it. So she stopped, fearing she was doing more harm than good. She couldn't be like her sisters, she didn't have a space of her own. So she faded into the background like the history she still loved.

But then Futaro tried her food, he tested it against Nino, and said, "They're both pretty good."

And suddenly she was out of her sister's shadow. All the effort she put into preparing something meaningful matched Nino's, if only for one person, and it meant the world to her. That was the seed, and in the months that followed it grew into a hopeful sprig bathing in warm sunlight. She wondered what it might have become, if that larger, grander tree wasn't growing beside her, cutting off her light.

She shouldn't be surprised, she realized. Who wouldn't want Nino, after all? She was girly, fashionable, clever, a good cook, and loving enough when she chose to be. What more could a guy want? The boys at their previous school had made that clear enough. How many love letters had Nino received? At least two that she knew of. The first one everyone knew about, she practically shouted him into the floor with her rejection. The second had been far less dramatic. She'd seen Nino take the letter from her locker, check the front, and tear it to pieces like it were nothing, like swatting an irritating fly. Miku bet there were more she didn't see. None for Miku, though. Really, why would there be? Outside of her looks, a blessing she shared with her sisters, a hand-me-down from their mother, what was entirely hers to offer? Who would be interested in her next to her glorious older sister?

Except, she thought Futaro might be. Hadn't he come to her first, before all the rest? And she imagined that maybe he, as the smartest guy in the room, found something in her that no one else, not even Miku, could see. She suspected, then she hoped, then she waited. Waited for what? She wasn't sure, a sign maybe? Something to confirm that this wasn't just wishful thinking. She found many, be it a look, a gesture, a compliment on her work; these were the spigot that fed her seed of affection and made it grow tall. But she always made up excuses, and waited, thinking she would wait for the right one, a sign so indisputable that it had to be his love. So she waited, and she watched, and as she did she found more to admire in him: his determination to see a job done, his snarky humor that made her laugh, his generosity towards his students, his family, and of course his fierce intelligence, sharper than the tip of a spear. She loved how he could outmatch her in almost any subject, even history. His passion was enormous! And he was willing to share it with her, because he...well, maybe, just maybe, he liked her, the way she liked him.

And then he kissed Nino. She hadn't seen that coming. But she should have. He was just a guy, after all, and guys preferred girls like Nino, not Miku. He wasn't that different after all. Or, he was, all in ways she though she wanted. Except one. But that was on her, wasn't it? She couldn't blame him when she had nothing to offer.

She sat on her bed as her phone buzzed like a bee waiting to sting her. She stared at the picture captured on her screen. She remembered taking it months ago, in the middle of their school trip. They'd been riding the ski lift to the top of the bunny hill, he'd pulled his glove off to text his sister. He'd been on his phone incessantly most of the trip, as if sharing a book's worth of detail would let his sister live the trip too. Then she wanted a picture of him in all his gear, except Futaro couldn't send pictures on his phone plan. So she offered, let me take the picture and I'll send it to her. When they got off she framed him against the backdrop of mountains halfway hiding in clouds. She lined up her shot, and frowned as deeply as he did. She spent half a minute coaxing a smile out of him, why was flipping a frown such a herculian task with him? But it was worth it. She kept it all this time, the moment he smiled all for her.

Or at least, that's how she wanted to remember it. Now that picture mocked her, reminding her that he hadn't smiled for her, but for his sister. Was that all this was? Wishful thinking? A story she told herself? How much of this was make-believe?

"Miku?" Ichika called as she let herself into Miku's room. She was wearing a tank top and shorts, her skin glistening like a glossy photo under the light from sweat. They could have hired movers, dad did offer, but Ichika insisted they do this themselves. It would be too easy that way, she said. She wanted to feel the detachment like chopsticks snapping apart.

She glanced at the ringing phone, picked it up and frowned at the picture. "That's annoying," she began as she pressed the red button, then paused, "Okay, wow. I just blocked him after the second try."

She shrugged, "I ignored it."

"Six times?"

"What does it matter? I didn't want to pick up." That was mostly true. Part of her wanted to pick up, to hear his voice and pretend like today hadn't happened. A different, scorned part of her wanted to shout everything she's kept inside, cutting him down like a weed whacker. But no part of her wanted to touch anything to do with him. So she let it ring, powerless to silence it.

Ichika softened like a wax statue melting in the sun. She silenced the unruly phone, then sat next to Miku on her bed. It was nice having her own space again. But his memory tainted that too. This was the bed he slept on, or tried to. She could almost imagine his face resting against her pillow. His presence lingered, the past tainting her present like a stain she couldn't bleach away. Even her family was torn. Four months ago they'd left these rooms with purpose, a shared goal to practice building a life of their own. Together. How well that turned out. Now her nearest sister was two rooms away.

Ichika smiled and took her hand, her long fingers massaging her own, finding the kinks Miku hadn't known were there. She always had such a soft touch with her sisters, always finding the tension hidden under their skin. "I know how you feel. I liked him too."

"I know."

"It just sucks. Like, I didn't think it would suck this much. It feels like," she reached for her chest and the words to describe the feeling. Miku wasn't surprised when she couldn't find them. It was like someone, a certain someone, poked a hole in their hearts and they deflated like dying balloons. Or at least, that's what hers felt like. Ichika gave up and said, "Well, you know."

Miku nodded, how powerful was heartbreak that it left Ichika lost for words? She was always the first to comfort her sisters, the designated shoulder to cry on in a moment of need. She bore the responsibility of the eldest, and her mother taught her that meant looking after their well-being. So she was used to listening, and consoling, and mediating the conflicts that arise in a family. But this wound was too personal and too raw to sense any emotions but her own. And Miku, well, that was Ichika's place, not hers. She wasn't any good at it, either. They were waiting on that bed for something, a sign, maybe, to shift focus away from their wounded hearts. But the room was smaller than she remembered and had only room enough for that, and so inevitably it came forth again, as Ichika found her voice.

She said, "I don't think I would have minded as much, if it was you."

Miku said, "Yeah, me too. If it was you, I mean."

She smiled, "But it's not. Just the girl I least expected." Ichika's legs rocked over the bed, hitting the frame almost audibly, and painfully.

Miku said, "I didn't even know she liked him. She was always at his throat. What happened."

She shrugged, leaning back on her hands, "That's Nino, isn't it. She absolutely doesn't want something, until she does, then she has to have it now. And she doesn't care who she has to step on to get it. She's always been an obnoxious child that way."

"You're exaggerating, she wasn't that bad." She paused, then said, "I think they look happy together."

Ichika laughed mockingly, "Oh, you wanna defend her?"

"No, I'm just saying."

"She did everything she could to undermine him, humiliate him, even hurt him. And then she pulls a perfect one-eighty and he falls right into her arms." And then Miku watched Ichika's eyes freeze over in a cold snap and all the warmth left her, "Why does she get what she wants after everything she did? What gives her the right?"

"Futaro wanted her too, she didn't force him," Miku admitted.

"Then he's an idiot after all, they deserve each other."

Ichika used to be selfish. She still was, but she wasn't the little girl that would steal your candy or your friend. It was her mother's death that made her words 'take care of your sisters' truly sink deep like a flag planted in a show of allegiance. She tried to act the good, reliable elder sister, as was her place. And usually she succeeded. But right now, her scorn outweighed her duty, and Miku saw how deeply Ichika's resentment ran like a crevice running through the earth's crust. Miku wanted to respond, to remind Ichika how Nino was more than an incident, and of all the times she'd put her sisters' welfare first. But she couldn't bring herself to defend her. She couldn't even speak about her anymore. She could only remember the kiss, and how happy they looked together.

She stood up and said, "I don't want to talk about them anymore."

Ichika blinked, "Oh, okay. I understand. I just thought...well, it's nothing."

Miku walked over to her computer and powered it on for the first time in months. It hummed to life with a familiar chirp, its case radiating a blue glow near the fans.

"What are you doing?" Ichika asked.

"I thought I'd play something, it's been a while." She used to spend hours at this desk, losing herself into the world of the screen. She saved worlds before, kingdoms and more. It might be fun to try again.

"Oh, that could be fun, I guess." Ichika started, then got up and clapped her hands and said, "How about we go somewhere instead? How about a spa day, just like we used to? It'll be the three of us!"

"I'm good. Ah, no, it has to update."

"Come on, we have our cards back, money's no object. What have you been missing?"

"This," Miku said as the update bar slowly inched forward with a snail's speed. "I don't want to go out right now."

Ichika sighed and went silent, Miku didn't wonder what she was thinking about in those quiet seconds, before she said, "Alright, I'll be in the other room. Just, come by when you're done, okay?"

"Sure." Miku didn't want to go out, she wanted to get lost in a game, a place Futaro and Nino would never hope to bother her. It was a space all her own. If she had a place at all, it was here, one achievement after another.

She plugged her headphones in as Ichika opened the door. She paused as she stepped outside, saying, "Itsuki? What're you doing?"

~Futaro~

He counted the rings for a sixth time. Laws of probability predicted if she wouldn't pick up the first five, she wouldn't do it now. But even though it was irrational, he tried again, counting the rings one after another, willing Miku to answer. He knew he had eight rings before the generic voicemail, the kind you hear when no one bothers to set one up themselves. He counted all the way to seven, when the line suddenly went dead. He stared at his phone as if it bit him. At last, a human response, and it was rejection. Well, it wasn't the first time today.

He sighed and closed his phone as he leaned over the balcony. He really thought he might have had a chance with Miku. If she'd just picked up, maybe he could've gotten through to her. Itsuki blocked his number without giving him a chance to speak. He'd tried Ichika next, and she actually picked up, but she almost wished she hadn't. The way she spoke to him, it was like she was being polite to a telemarketer. All those months building a partnership, a friendship, were they tossed aside so easily? Were things between them really so bad that they wanted to cut him off like an infected limb? He hadn't thought so. He'd imagined this could all be sorted out over a cup of coffee, or a pile of homework if he had his way. But when he found Nino all alone in an emptied house looking like her world was ending, he realized it might be. Maybe he didn't know these girls as well as he'd thought.

And he realized this wasn't a puzzle he could put back together in a sitting, These pieces were moving like oil and water circling the drain. And he saw how ill-equipped he was to tackle this problem himself. So what could he do? He decided he'd try, at least, thinking if he could speak with them one-on-one, he could make them remember that they were still important to him, and maybe he could still be important to them too. But that failed, just like Nino had thought. So now, he'd stay by her side, and see what he could do from here. What else was there to do?

He spotted her bouncing ribbon peaking over the fence as she ran. He could see why the track team fought so hard to keep her, she was to sports as he was to colleges: a hot prospect. Yotsuba bounded up the stairs with the grace of a stallion and halted in front of Futaro, doubling over to breathe, "I'm here!"

"Yeah, I see that."

"I looked everywhere! Well, not everywhere, obviously, or I'd have found them, and probably the sandals I lost at the beach last year, but anyways, I looked everywhere. I was about to make another round when you texted me. I never thought to check home, though."

"You couldn't even if you wanted to, you threw your card in the river with the others."

"I could go get it-"

"No. Why would you even think that?"

"Just brainstorming."

"Please, no drowning today, with our luck it just might happen."

"Okay, I get it, I get it." Yotsuba looked at the door and asked, "So, how's she doing?"

"Better than you'd think."

"That's not saying much."

"It says something. See for yourself."

"I guess," Yotsuba bit her lip, then said, "Can I ask something first? I kind of wanted to ask before, but it wasn't a good time."

Futaro watched her curiously and said, "Go ahead, shoot."

She asked, "I was thinking about what you said earlier, I mean, after the rain, in the hall, and, well, I just wanna know. You know. Uh, if you meant it. I mean it's okay if you didn't, if you just wanted to help me feel better, I appreciate it. But I just thought it'd be good to know, if that's what you meant."

Oh, that. He blushed at the memory, a moment that was more personally embarrassing than his actual confession to his actual girlfriend. He better keep that train of thought well away from Nino, at least for now. He pinched his nose and tried to plan his response. But Yotsuba was looking at him sideways through her hair, more hopeful than a child staring under the Christmas tree and hoping the big one was for her. He didn't know these sisters as well as he thought. He should take the obvious hint.

"Well, I said it, didn't I? I'm no good at these kinds of things."

Yotsuba chuckled, "Yeah, I'm no good either, really."

He rolled his eyes, feeling his cheeks warming, "You're still the best I've got."

"How sad."

"Hey."

She hid her laugh, "Kidding."

Futaro huffed, then looked inside. "So, you have my back and I've got yours."

"Whatever you need."

"This isn't going to be easy. Not just her, but, everything else. I don't know if you can do it alone."

Her eyes darkened and she said, "We've been through worse. We'll get through this too."

He motioned to the door, "Ready?"

"Let's do it."

He opened the door and heard something bang!

"Get in there!" Nino roared as she brutally shoved her prisoner into its cage. The vacuum squeezed against an ironing board and a shoe rack into the closet, Nino gave a final groan and the closet relented, reluctantly accepting its new occupant with a tight embrace. Nino pushed the handle as she let go, it wiggled unreliably, and shut the closet door. "Ha! I knew it would fit. That thing's been an eyesore since day one, but I could never make space. Ichika brought too many shoes-"

Futaro said, "You matched her pair for pair-"

"And now they're gone, and we have all this room. Look at this!" She spread her arms wide to welcome the renovated room, "Look how big it is! We have so much space!"

Poor Yotsuba. She certainly prepared for her sister's mood, but for somewhere bordering misery and despair. It was nice to know that he wasn't the only one blindsided by Nino's sudden mania.

Yotsuba whispered, "How long has she been like this?"

"She got started half an hour ago."

"She's been busy."

"She was waiting for you."

"What?"

"Yotsuba!" Nino cried, pointing to their kotatsu, "Help us move this."

"Huh? Oh, is that all? Why'd you wait for me to do it?"

Nino pointed to Futaro, "Me? Moving this? Alone with him? That makes as much sense as a car wash for kittens."

"Hey, I'm working on it," Futaro sneered.

Nino joined him on one corner while Yotsuba took the other side. They lifted on her count of three, Futaro's joints screamed like they'd been woken from sound sleep with an airhorn, and they slowly shifted the kotatsu to the center of the room. They'd had to shove it to one side of the room before, to make room for the two drying racks needed to deal with five girls' dirty laundry, their luggage which was never fully unpacked, textbooks, tools, backpacks, and whatever else wouldn't fit in their closets. But now that supply was more than halved, and a home meant for a low-income couple could finally cope with its occupants.

Nino brushed her hands on her skirt, an old one she'd changed into to work, and said, "This looks good, it's finally starting to look like a home. We might even be able to fit a desk in here if we can find one! Or, maybe a dining room table. Do you know how much I've wanted a proper western-style dining table? I want to sit like a civilized human being again!"

Yotsuba followed her sister's fingers and nodded eagerly like a yes-man at a board meeting. Yotsuba absorbed excitement like a sponge soaking a spill, not recognizing it as a mess. She could imagine the mother Yotsuba would be someday, and endless swell of encouragement for her children. Want to learn piano? I'll cheer you on silently at recitals! Oh, it's boring now? No big deal, you'll find something else you like. What? Your grades are slipping? It's alright, I'm sure you'll get them back up eventually! If Yotsuba would be a bottomless pit of support, Futaro was a mountain of expectation, the brutal reality in the light of a pitiless world. Or so he liked to think. And he thought he should bring Nino back to the situation at hand. She'd been distracting herself almost since he walked through the door. After calming down, she declared that if her sisters were really moving out, so be it. She'd finally do everything she'd always wanted to do with this place and make it a proper home. She'd organize the chaos into a nice, homely order of the Nakano branding. Won't they just be jealous! But after seeing her, so broken as that night over a week before, he knew what it was hiding. That disorder was her family, and now it was gone. And when there was nothing left to organize, she'd miss that chaos and be brought low again.

And what could he do about it? How many problems were there that he couldn't solve? Even though he tried, and tried well, it all ended the same. No, that was wrong, it compounded like a snowball rolling down the hill until becoming an avalanche. He tried to identify where the snowball started rolling, thinking back to the day they met, then moving forward to their exams, their Christmas declaration, that confession in the kitchen, and finally he settled on that night over two weeks ago, when Nino backed away, and in doing so drew his curiosity closer. How quickly their lives had spiraled into the present. It felt like a bomb had blown them away and they were picking up the pieces of themselves on opposite sides of the smoking crater, unable to see the other side. How were the others doing? He wanted to know, but they refused to be seen. So he stayed with the ones he cared for the most, his girlfriend and his best friend, and hoped it was enough.

"Oh, Yotsuba, I almost forgot," Nino began.

Yotsuba asked, "Oh? What?"

"Something Ichika said." She looked out on their living room, her day's masterwork, and crossed her arms, "Your room is just like you left it, apparently Father hired a maid to keep it clean while we were gone. They said you can go home too, if you want."

Nino gazed beyond the room placidly. It was a mask hiding her fear that Yotsuba might really say yes. Then she'd have all the space she could want and more.

Yotsuba said, "Huh? Are you going too?"

She shook her head, "Why would I tidy if I were going too? I'm not going back there. Not with them."

"Well then I'm not going either."

"I don't mind if you do. You don't have to do this for me."

Yotsuba blinked, "Okay, well I still don't wanna go."

"Why not? It's much nicer. Even I miss it."

"Well it's not just for you," she glanced at Futaro, "But, I can't leave both of you alone. That'd just be, well, the worst thing I could do."

Nino bowed her head, "Really?"

"Yeah, so, can I stay-whoa!" She nearly tipped over as Nino tackled her, burying her face in her shoulder.

"So stay then," she said, and with her fear broken, Nino let out her relief, "I don't want to be alone."

Yotsuba stood frozen, caught off guard by her sister's sudden spin, then patted her back, "There there, what else would I do?"

Nino didn't answer, the passing possibility thankfully departed. "I'm just glad you're here."

"I wasn't going anywhere."

"You might have to," Futaro broke the mood, "Both of you."

They broke apart and looked at him. Nino asked, "What are you talking about?"

Futaro whirled his finger around the room, "Sorry to be the one to point out the elephant in the room, but it needs to be asked. Can you two afford this place on your own? Don't just think about rent. What about cable, electricity, water and sewage? Or food, even? Are two part-timers able to cover that?"

Nino's face darkened. She'd known, of course she did, but that was low on her list of problems. "We have enough to get by for a while."

"Not long, rent's due this week, remember? And what about food and everything else?"

"Oh, we'll manage, Futaro. We always do," Yotsuba assured him.

"You won't. I've seen your paychecks, it won't be enough." Futaro realized he was speaking in a monotone, more a lecture than a counseling. He tried softening his voice, "Face it, the numbers don't add up. You need to go back home."

Nino said, "This is home now."

"It isn't-"

"No. I can't go back there. Not now." Nino said firmly, glaring at him like she were facing down a train, "If I go back now, they'll never forget it. They abandoned us first, it would be like crawling back."

Yotsuba nodded, "It can't be that bad. I can pick up more shifts, or get a second job. I can-"

Futaro said, "Then you won't have any time for your studies. And if that falls through, what's all this effort been for? We have one year left. One year! If you can manage that, it's worth moving home, even if, well, if it means a bit of shame."

Nino shook her head, "You don't get it, Futaro. Don't pretend that you can."

And Futaro wanted to protest. The numbers spoke for themselves and he didn't want to see the two of them step into debt, or worse, to keep up a fantasy. But he remembered seeing Nino so shaken from the day, from something he thought was easily fixable, and realized Nino was right, there were still things going on between them he didn't understand. Maybe she'd relent with time, but for now, she was adamant. And maybe she had a good reason after all. And she looked at him so defiantly and pleadingly all at once, silently saying they were doing this, and she needed his support. What else could he do? That's what a boyfriend did, right?

"Alright, fine. But we need to sit down and work this out on paper. We'll see if we missed something." Nino nodded, stepping forward and hugging him. Futaro patted her back, maybe this was the best he could do for her.

Yotsuba clapped her hands, "Good idea, you can help us budget! We were never very good at that."

"I know. It's one of my many shames."

And then the doorbell rang and three heads swiveled to the door. Futaro checked the time and saw it was a quarter to five. Who would be here at this hour?

"I'll get it!" Yotsuba announced as she bounded for the door, peeling it open, and solidifying like she was greeting a basilisk.

The youngest sister was gasping for breath. She cradled a heavy duffel over one shoulder and a large roller suitcase in hand. "Water, now," she demanded as she brushed past Yotsuba and dropped her things at the entrance.

Futaro asked, "Oh, it's you. What're you-"

Itsuki pointed, "You, zip it. Not a word." She slid off her shoes and stormed to confront a flustered Nino like an army storming a barred gate. Between them was a compressed gas just waiting for a spark. Nino raised her chin to her sister, silently demanding an explanation for her intrusion after her abandonment.

Itsuki pointed to the table. "You. Sit, now."

~Nino~

She recalled all the wars Futaro told her about. Local conflicts, regional strife, national struggles and World Wars. He never liked teaching them much, he thought schools put too much energy into conflict that there was hardly room for anything else. But he taught them what they needed to pass, and so wars it was. They always ended at a table with two sides sitting across from each other and coming to terms. What did those old men think, looking across at enemies who had hurt them and the people they loved? Is that how Itsuki felt? She knew she felt something in that neighborhood. Hot words still stung after only an hour. That wound was so fresh it was bleeding.

Itsuki heaved a great sigh. She looked strained like an untended surge barrier ready to give way. Why'd she make the trip anyways? Nino wondered what else there was to say, she seemed pretty final before.

Nino spoke first, unable to bear the silence, "Alright, what the hell are you doing here?"

Itsuki raised a finger and seethed, "No, you wait your turn."

"Oh, my turn? We're taking turns now?"

"If that's what it takes-"

"And who do you think you are to decide that?"

Itsuki flared, "I came all this way-"

"Yeah, after ditching us and blowing up at me like a damn dirty bomb! What the hell-"

"Everything I said was true! All of it! You deserved-"

"Deserved what? You left! You picked up with them and left-"

"Will you shut up and let me talk, or are you just gonna keep screaming!?"

Futaro said, "Calm down, both of you. This isn't-"

Itsuki glared, "You. Don't you even try. This is between me and her."

Futaro said, "No, it's not."

Itsuki glared at him, then huffed and said, "Fine, but I have something to say to her first. Then, you can say whatever you want. But I need this." Futaro glanced at Nino, she nodded and straightened herself, ready for whatever Itsuki had.

A calm settled over them as Itsuki brushed her skirt and wiped the sweat from her forehead. And then, when she had the moment to speak and control of the floor, she hesitated. People with something to say express it depending on how they feel. Rage comes in an instant, a stream of emotion like the breaking of a dam. That was Itsuki over the phone. But as it simmers, you think about it, you play the conversation over and over in your head. Itsuki must have imagined their talk a dozen times on her trek over. And now that she was here, she struggled to capture that confidence, and struggled to form the words that once came so easily when she was alone. Itsuki returned to Nino, her glare like a sun through a magnifying glass, "I meant it. Everything I said. But I need to say something else."

"Well, go ahead. Spit it out."

"This is all your fault. All of it."

"My fault? You three-"

"Did what? You think it's okay we found out on fucking twitter!? And I think, I think we could've dealt with that, except you let Yotsuba take the fall, and you," she pointed to Yotsuba, "You covered for her. I know you thought you were doing the right thing, but it only made things worse." Yotsuba shrank at the accusation, her lip quivering as her eyes fell to the floor.

Futaro said, "Alright, stop. This is going too far. Say what you came to say and be done with it."

"I told you to-"

"All this shouting isn't getting you anywhere. Just say it. Nino, we'll listen."

Nino wanted to protest, she didn't want to be assaulted again and just sit there taking it. But Futaro was firm, and she couldn't bear having him against her too, even in such a small way. She said, "Just get on with it already."

She just had to keep the bite in her language. She crossed her arms and readied herself for Itsuki's ravings, knowing that she herself was still on solid ground. She wasn't the one who abandoned her family. They were. Itsuki, Ichika, even Miku. They left her behind. It was a wound more stinging than a being run under a sewing machine.

Itsuki breathed deeply and said, "I was so angry with you. Both of you, no, all three of you. I couldn't believe you would actually go behind our backs. I imagined you laughing and thinking you were getting away with your little affair, and we were all oblivious. But we weren't, and when we asked, when we gave you a chance to come clean, you lied! You lied to all of us! Mother told us we could never, not to each other. And you just moved on like it was nothing."

Oh now forcefully Nino had to bite her tongue. Futaro saw her ready to snap and glared, its pressure the only thing keeping her mouth shut.

And suddenly some of the fight left Itsuki, maybe all the shouting from today had dulled her edge, or maybe she was tired of being angry. Her tone lost its edge like a knife run against rock. She said, "But you know what the worst thing is? Miku didn't have a clue. She didn't even know you liked him. Did you know that? And then to find out like that-"

Nino couldn't take it, even Futaro couldn't hold her back, "I was going to tell everyone. I really was! It isn't my fault someone couldn't keep their fat nose outta our business."

Itsuki said, "Were you? When. Go on, tell me when."

"Soon, I was going-"

"Not good enough. When? How much longer were you going to pretend like everything was the same? The longer you waited, Ichika and Miku were thinking, they were-" Itsuki fell off, unable to finish the thought with words.

"Everything has just been happening, this all happened over, like, two weeks. I'm still getting used to this, but I knew I'd know when the time was right to tell you."

"The right time was the moment you decided to date. I don't blame Futaro for that, I blame you. Do you know why?" She leaned in, her eyes sparkling with depth, "That day at the coffee shop? Do you remember? You said you'd be perfectly fine if one of them dated Futaro."

Nino sprang, "And I would be-"

"Yeah, I know. But you didn't trust us to do the same for you." Nino could tell this was the point Itsuki was waiting to reach because her voice flexed and strained as her emotions fought for control like a war insider her voice box. And Nino felt the same as her accusation hit too close to home. "Maybe you think what you did protected us. But it didn't. Things are worse than ever because you couldn't trust us."

Wasn't Itsuki always the intuitive one? If Nino's love for her sisters was expressed in acts of caring, and Yotsuba's was in her endless encouragement and belief, Itsuki's was in her understanding. Itsuki never fought against their differences, she accepted their inevitable changes with love that only a mother could match. She knew Nino in some ways Nino wouldn't even admit to herself. So she was in the perfect position to look in and understand the feelings of everyone involved. And by reaching in, she touched something in Nino she didn't want to admit: the fear that she didn't trust her sisters to accept her relationship, and how that fear might have ruined everything. And by touching it, she sparked the nerves in Nino's feelings and forced her to confront it.

She said, "It's not that, I mean it's not that I didn't trust-"

"No, that's exactly what it is. Why else couldn't you just tell us? Why?"

Nino said, "I didn't, I mean I didn't think it would happen."

Itsuki lingered on her sister, then she sighed, saying, "I know."

"I just wanted us all to be together, but I didn't think-I was afraid what they'd say." Nino bowed her head, tears glistening in her eyes. Sadness, heartbreak, and anger mixed with water falling down her face, and she felt herself awash in her shame and frustration and not knowing what to do with it all. So she directed it at the person across the table, the person she blamed for bringing all this up. She said, "Fine. I messed up. Is that what you came to hear? That this was all my fault? Well congratu-friggin-lations! Mission accomplished! Anything else you wanna shove in my face on your way out the door?"

Itsuki was blown away by Nino's outburst like a bird caught off guard, thinking the strife had passed. "No, I didn't-"

"Well go on, spit it out! It's not like there's much more you can do, so go ahead! And when you leave, tell them-!"

"She's not leaving," Futaro interrupted, placing a hand on Nino's shoulder.

Nino snapped, "Don't be stupid, she-"

"Brought that," Futaro said, pointing at Itsuki's suitcase. "It's not rocket science."

Nino glazed over the suitcase, a red-ribbed name brand she bought for their trip to the mountains last year. "What'd you bring? More of our stuff?"

Itsuki kept her voice level, "No, it's mine."

"Why?"

Itsuki flushed and looked away, "Because, maybe, I was a bit rash."

"Oh, you think?"

"Nino," Futaro warned. She huffed and glared at Itsuki.

Itsuki wringed her hands like a wet cloth and said, "I still think this is your fault, but maybe I could've been better about this."

"You said-"

"I said, you should have trusted us! That you should have told us! This is a betrayal, don't you get it!?" Itsuki snapped back, but fizzled as quickly as she ignited, "But I...maybe I, no, that's not right. We all could've done it differently. But I was so angry in the lunch room, that when Ichika announced we were going home, I left. It just felt right. But then I was home and, it was strange, but I could feel the emptiness. And I realized we were tearing our family apart. All of us." Itsuki bowed her head into her hands, "I should've fought Ichika, but I couldn't. And Miku, she's barely said a word. I don't even know if she cares what happens. And by then, it was too late. They weren't going back. So I came here, hoping you'd come back."

Nino listened, breathed deeply, and asked, "Did you tell them this before you left?"

"I did."

"And what'd they say?"

Itsuki said slowly, "It wasn't good."

Nino shook her head, "I can't go back. You can. Yotsuba can. But I can't. They won't accept me again."

"But we-"

"I stayed. Yotsuba stayed. They left. You left, too. Nothing's going to change if I go back now. It'll be like grinding flint and steel over gasoline. I kept a secret, but I never abandoned them. So I'll prove that I can live on my own, even if they leave me behind."

Itsuki swallowed, "And what? You'll never go back? Is this how it's going to be?"

She shrugged, "As long as they want it to be. I'm ready to talk whenever they are."

Itsuki sighed, "I had a feeling you'd say that. That's why I brought my things."

"So you're choosing my side?"

"I don't want to choose a side. I just choose not to leave. There's a difference."

"Not in practice."

"And I'm going to get us back together. All of us."

Nino bit her lip, then said, "We will be. This won't last forever."

"It better not," Itsuki said, "And, I realize I could've said this better before. And earlier. I shouldn't have left, or screamed. I'm sorry."

Nino nodded, rocking back and forth, freezing when she saw Futaro glaring at her expectantly. She sighed, "Yeah, okay. And, I'm sorry I lied, and didn't tell you. That was messed up."

"Nobody's perfect." Itsuki gave a small grin.

"Equally flawed," Nino shot back. Then she got up and rounded the table, taking her sister's hand for the first time since their fight and drawing her into a hug. She gripped her tightly as if afraid she might leave again, but Itsuki pulled herself closer, she wasn't going anywhere, and Nino felt more whole. She said, "I missed you."

"I missed you too."

"I missed you three," Yotsuba joined in and hugged her.

Nino peered over her shoulder and said, "Futaro, get over here."

"No."

Yotsuba cheered, "Come on!"

"No. Sister moment."

Itsuki said, "You might as well, you're as much a part of this as we are, Futaro."

"Still no-"

"Fuu," Nino glared, "now."

Futaro groaned and joined them under duress, hugging Nino from behind. And then they were four. Two shy of what Nino wanted. But it was growing. Maybe they could be whole again someday.

A/N

Another delay. I'm reminded of a saying: one's an accident, two's a coincidence, three's a trend. Provided I can avoid one more repeat, I hope to continue maintaining a reliable schedule of updates. The reason for this delay was more of the same, overwork at the end of the fiscal year, family visits, and such. All were either enjoyed or indulged, and I want to write. But one thing in this chapter directly held me up: Miku. I struggled to capture her thought process in a way I feel fits with her canon self. I believe that she subjectively has less talent showcased than her sisters, and I feel that would lead to a bit of self-consciousness on her part. But she's portrayed as fairly self-assured and confident in herself, so it was a balancing act to make that a reasonable focal point of weakness. I worked on the first third of this chapter longer than I expected, much longer than the latter parts, before I was satisfied with Miku.

The dust from the day is still settling, and everyone is reeling from impact. It's been a challenge to dive into the characters and analyze how they would react to this news, and what implications it has for everyone's relationships. Who supports the couple and who does not, and what those ripples bring out among them, what deep-set insecurities and personality traits reemerge. That was my thinking as I plotted who would side with who, and where that will take everyone. This is not the family at their best. These are wounded prides facing each other in anger.

I miss the early chapters where moods were lighter, where the characters were prone to joke and laugh and hope. It's all gone downhill, and it's less fun to write. But it's a core part of the story and it needs to be written. I imagine all writers reach these points, parts they just want to get through and return to those chapters that spark joy. And this does, at the end, once the work is complete and I can reflect. I'm excited for the next chapter, where I expect to bring a little of that earlier levity back.

I realized I missed this story's six month anniversary. I published chapter 16 on the day six months after it began. That's a long commitment, and there's a lot left to go. And I still want to tell it, so here's to six months, one year, and beyond.

Two weeks. It's a personal goal, not a promise. I hate breaking promises. So this is something I set for myself as a milestone to keep myself coming back. More will come soon, and soon the dust will settle, the families will pick themselves up and move on to an uncertain future. Please continue your support, it's been wonderful having that all this time, and thank you for understanding these past delays. Please review, comment, and check back in two weeks for the next one.

Chapter published: October 3rd, 2019.