How did Saionji know, instantly, that it was Nanami that Touga was talking to on the phone that day when he got home?
Touga always had a certain air about him with her. It was indulgently gallant, sometimes tinged with a hint of flirtation that Saionji hoped he was only imagining. The act was pure affectation, several degrees removed from whatever real care or concern Touga felt for his sister. And unless Saionji was much mistaken, that removal had bred contempt, as there was a sarcastic edge to Touga's current manner.
Not wishing to disturb the Kiryuu siblings' privacy, Saionji dropped his things off in the apartment quickly and took a book into the courtyard to study. The day was pleasant, the scent of pine sap sharp in the air, so he did not particularly mind.
He was surprised, however, when Touga emerged from the apartment shortly afterwards and leaned on the guardrail, phone receiver hanging in one hand. His hair slid haphazardly over the part of his arms resting on top of the railing.
"My sister wants to speak with you, old man."
Saionji hurried back up to the apartment, trying to gauge from Touga's expression what he thought of the matter. Was the bitter twist to his smile entirely left over from his ambivalence towards Nanami? Or was he less than pleased that his sister wanted to speak with Saionji?
"I didn't expect that you would want to talk to me again," Saionji said, after greeting her politely.
"Please!" She laughed sharply at the other end of the line. "I'm not a child anymore, hiding behind my big brother from anything unpleasant."
"I'm terribly sorry that I implied otherwise."
"Oh, don't bother. It was you I was calling, only my dear brother took forever handing the phone over. You must be the only person in the world who doesn't have a cell phone."
Given the delay, even after Saionji had gotten home, Touga was probably displeased that his sister wanted to speak with Saionji, after all.
"I wasn't in yet, when you called."
"All the more reason you should have a phone you can carry with you! But we're getting off topic."
"My apologies, Miss Nanami."
"Kyouichi, you don't need to say you're sorry. Or to be so formal."
Nanami was still the only one who addressed him in that manner.
She sighed in exasperation. "We need to talk. You know that, don't you? And in person, not just over the phone."
"I'll see what I can do." It was the best he could think to offer.
"You're not busy now, are you? You should come down to my office. I'll give you directions."
Saionji agreed reluctantly and listened without comment as she delivered instructions that she revised so many times that Saionji gave up keeping track of the iterations, saying only, "I'll see you shortly," when she finished.
As he replaced the phone receiver, he saw Touga glaring at him contemptuously, the smoldering end of a cigarette dangling from between two fingers..
"What's going on between you and my sister?" Touga asked.
Waving away the obvious implication effortlessly, Saionji assured him, "It's nothing for an older brother to worry about."
"You know that isn't what I meant."
Struggling with a strong impulse to snap at Touga, Saionji took a deep breath. "Nanami and I need to settle things between us. I won't plot behind your back, but there's no way that I can keep the truth from her."
"You could call her and tell her that you aren't coming, and we could go on with things as before, you and I."
Saionji lost the battle with his temper. "You think it's easy, living like this? Fighting all the time, not knowing each day what you'll be like, if you'll even be here? And worrying, worrying all the time and not being able to do a single thing about it."
"No one asked you to go tilting at windmills," Touga sneered. He glanced down at the cigarette end in his hand, and ground it out in the ash tray nearest to where he was standing.
"The minute I try to change something, you say not to, that things are fine the way they are. Well, they're not fine. They haven't been for a long, long time." For thirteen years, if not longer. But he couldn't bring himself to say it.
Touga said nothing, but turned and left the room. With heavy feet, Saionji walked to the bathroom and stared into the mirror over the sink. It was hardly short of a miracle that the glass was still unbroken, and it seemed inauspicious to smash it now, much as a part of him wanted to.