"Is tea okay?"
Ka-chak. The fridge door opened, and a liter bottle of barley tea materialized on the lower shelf.
"Sure, thanks."
A nearby glass was filled three-quarters full of transparent light-brown liquid, and was carried all the way to the living room, where a guest sat expectantly at the kotatsu, looking up at her host as he placed the glass in front of her. Clink. The host eased into the seat opposite her, contriving not to appear either too relaxed or too high-strung, sitting on his hands in order to prevent them from shaking too visibly.
If it hadn't been obvious already, that host, of course, was my humble self. And my guest was… well, who else could it be?
The primal instincts that had kicked in upon letting a girl into my house – another personal first for me, as Yukinoshita had been let in by my little sister – briefly caused my psyche to detach from my corporeal form, and for the better part of two minutes it felt as though the person pouring the tea and setting it in front of Isshiki were not really me, but someone whose eyes I was seeing the world through as they went about their business. If game publishers were compelled by some inexplicable burst of insanity to model a VR game after my life, that would've been what it would've looked like.
Eventually, I was allowed to return to my own body and regain control of its functions, although that did not alleviate my consternation one iota. It's said that there are two great human fears: the fear of death, and the fear of public shame. I privately wondered which one was currently gripping my chest almost to the point of asphyxiation. There was a non-zero probability that it was both.
A million questions and statements inundated my head as I opened my mouth, pushing and jostling as they vied for supremacy in the race to become the first thing I said to Isshiki from across the kotatsu. How did she find out I was ill? Why did she come in, even if I was stupid enough to let her through the front door? What did she plan on doing with me now that she was here? Would I manage to survive the night?
In the end, my indecision lost me the initiative, and it was Isshiki who spoke first.
"Sorry about yesterday, Senpai." She bowed her head slightly and stared down at the glass of barley tea. "It's my fault you got sick today. I was being selfish."
Damn right you were. "You said you had something to do at home, right?" I shrugged. "There was no helping it."
"Yeah, you're probably right. Anyway…" She tilted her head, eyes widening as she scanned the comfortable environs of my living room. It felt as if her inquisitive and piercing gaze were violating me in some indescribable yet fundamental manner – my home was my haven, after all, and when the snake entered the garden of Eden, the virginity of paradise was surely tainted. "You have a pretty normal house, don't you, Senpai?"
Talk about a U-turn. Was my personal sacrifice really worth that little in the face of the intricacies of my house's interior design? "What were you expecting?" I queried.
"Hmm, I dunno. Something more… sinister, perhaps, knowing you. I just hope it doesn't run in the family."
"Apologize to my parents right now."
"They gave birth to you, Senpai. Maybe you should be asking for an apology from them instead."
Before I could rattle out a rebuke, I jumped as the front door creaked open. In my panic, I had forgotten about Komachi, who now marched down the hallway, fresh groceries in tow. "Onii-chan, you awake?" she asked as she came into the living room. "There's a pair of shoes… Oh."
"Hi!" Isshiki beamed as she waved sanguinely at my stunned little sister, who had allowed the groceries to fall from her grasp and onto the floor with a wet plop. "I'm Isshiki! Are you Senpai's little sister?"
"Komachi… Komachi's the little sister. Yes, she is." She marched up to me and pulled my ear – and by extension, the rest of me as well – to one side. "Onii-chan!" she hissed, ignoring my painful protests. "You didn't tell Komachi you had a girlfriend!"
I rubbed my sore earlobe as she released her iron grip. "I don't, though."
"Then who's that? Why would a girl visit you while you were sick if you weren't going out?"
"Are 'girlfriend' and 'not girlfriend' the only two modes a person can have?" I pushed her away with an exasperated sigh. "Just go make dinner. She won't be here for long."
At that moment, a look of inspiration rapidly dawned on Komachi's face, though I wasn't sure I would appreciate the fruits of her revelation. Not much good ever came from my little sister getting ideas she ought not be getting, even if I loved her all the same for her adorable attempts at interfering with my interpersonal affairs. Sure enough, she duly turned to Isshiki – and, with a bright smile to match Isshiki's own, said, "Isshiki-san, do you wanna join Komachi and Onii-chan for dinner tonight?"
I immediately balked at the proposal. "Komachi, don't just-"
"If you're okay with me imposing on you, then I'd love to!" Isshiki replied enthusiastically.
"You do realize I'm still sick, right? I don't think it would be-"
"Don't worry, Onii-chan – Komachi will make something light for dinner. Plus, you look more than well enough to eat." Komachi swiftly pranced towards the kitchen, a gust of nauseatingly rose-tinted wind trailing in her wake, picking up the sagging bag of groceries with a flourish along the way. "Just sit tight, okay?" she called as she disappeared into the corridor.
I held my head in my hands as the living room's prior silence was restored. "I'm sorry about my little sister. She's always been… proactive, when it comes to these things."
"What a nice little sister, looking out for her brother like that." Isshiki grinned slyly. "Maybe there is hope for you after all."
"Not on that evidence. Anyway…" I cleared my throat. Now that Isshiki was destined to prolong her stay, I felt somewhat obliged to fulfill my duties as her host. "Feel free to make yourself comfortable. If there's anything you need, just let me know."
Isshiki raised her hand. "I just thought of something."
"Yes?"
"Lemme see your room, Senpai."
"No."
Isshiki puckered her lips and pouted, upturning her eyebrows to complete the puppy-dog look. "Senpai, c'mooon. We have nothing to do anyway."
"We can watch TV, if you want." I gestured at the empty black screen behind her.
"But I don't want to. I wanna see your room. Please?" She leaned forward over the kotatsu table, and I fought with all my remaining strength to prevent myself from glancing downwards. "Just a quick peek, I promise. You wouldn't let a girl leave your place unsatisfied, would you?"
"What do you even mean by that?" I muttered, my cheeks and ears burning with the fury of a thousand unfulfilled desires. How I despised my tendency to succumb, my vulnerability to suggestion. Yet the sole salve for the scorching brand of celibacy and lovelessness was good old-fashioned experience, and – particularly after my tribulations in middle school – that was something I was less likely to find within the span of my lifetime than the chances of a meteorite busting through my window and eviscerating my crown jewels in my sleep. And if this was all it took to fluster me, then perhaps I would prefer the meteorite. "Fine. Just a peek, right?"
"Yay!" Isshiki bounced off the floor and, as I stood, pushed me ahead of her. "Let's go, let's go."
"It's just like any other bedroom in the world," I murmured as we made our way out of the living room and down the corridor. "Don't be disappointed if you don't find anything interesting."
"You don't have to worry about that." Isshiki's eyes shone with the prospect of adventure, albeit one that lasted barely ten seconds before we trudged up the stairs and arrived at my bedroom entrance, and I eased the door open to let her in. Her eyes widened as she leapt into the center of my bedroom and did a dainty little twirl. "Wow…"
"There's nothing to 'wow' about, honestly." A bed, a desk, a bookshelf, and some scattered clothes strewn on the floor. I scratched my head, wondering what exactly it was about this most average of rooms that Isshiki found so fascinating. The sun outside had all but descended below the horizon, leaving only streaks of orange to mar the purple of night, but that was about all I could see that was remotely awe-inspiring. "Be careful not to trip over the-"
Thud.
I knelt beside the prone, squirming form of Isshiki, who had caught her foot on a sweater near my bed and planted her face squarely onto the carpet.
"Help…" a muffled voice warbled.
I grudgingly hefted her shoulders up and shook my head. "What did I tell you?" I sighed. "It's sort of my fault for leaving it there, but still-"
Then, the world turned upside down. It seemed the gods were not done playing with me just yet.
Just as I happened to lift her up and allow her to rest on her knees, she happened to turn around and face me, our noses barely a breath's distance away from each other, her lips parting slightly in surprise, my hands inches from each side of her waist. At the same time, Komachi happened to clamber up the stairs behind us and bear witness to the wholly misconstrued and easily misunderstood scene unfolding before her young, pure, maiden eyes. Time slowed to a crawl, my bedroom trapped in a Renaissance painting of bad luck and cold stares, my diaphragm refusing to supply the air that I desperately needed to unfreeze myself from my ostensibly compromising position.
What could I say that would excuse me from any potential misconceptions? Nothing. And Komachi, now wearing a smirk as wide as the saucepan in her hand, knew it.
"Take your time," she sang as she turned and skipped back down the stairs.
Dinner in the Hikigaya household was usually a tranquil affair. With no parents to ask us about our day or nag us about untidy appearances – though that was a criticism usually reserved for me alone – it fell to us two siblings to try and eke out a topic of conversation on our own. It wasn't that we had nothing to say to each other, far from it. But there were inevitably times when we would eat, wash up, and depart for our own rooms with little more than a dozen sentences shared between us for the evening.
Not so tonight.
"Like I've been telling you this whole time-"
Komachi wagged her finger. "It's bad manners to deny a relationship in front of your partner, Onii-chan. Even if you promised to keep it a secret. Of course, you don't have to worry about Komachi telling anyone, especially not that really pretty and cool-looking Onee-san who visited you earlier. She seemed like the type who would hold onto a grudge for a long, long time. If you betrayed her in some way, she'd definitely make you regret it."
"How did you- Never mind." I turned to Isshiki, who had a simultaneously pensive and quietly amused look on her face. Our eyes met, and she raised her eyebrows before returning to her food.
You're on your own on this one.
It wasn't like Isshiki to be this subdued, particularly if it meant letting a chance to make fun of me go begging. I couldn't tell if she was embarrassed of being seen by my little sister, of all people – though there was nothing to be embarrassed about to begin with – or if some other unspoken thought weighed on her mind. I had neither the time nor the desire to probe any further – besides, watching her partake of her food so passively, so meekly, was a strangely enlightening experience on its own.
Either way, it was left to me to stand alone in the headlights, weathering the relentless onslaught of sororal attention as best as I could. In doing so, I employed an age-old tactic that had served me well thus far in the face of unwanted questions, which was simply to ignore the source of the annoyance until it hopefully went away on its own. And, given enough time, the tactic always worked out in the end.
As Komachi busied herself with washing the dishes, her boundless curiosity momentarily satisfied, I had the unfamiliar job of seeing our unexpected guest out through the door. "I ought to be going," Isshiki had said, and though it was clear that Komachi wanted her to stay longer – no doubt with pressing queries about our supposed relationship in mind – even she knew not to impose unnecessarily on someone whom she had barely just met. She, too, had noticed Isshiki's shift in demeanor, and she had nodded knowingly at me as I ushered Isshiki out into the corridor.
"Want me to walk you to the station?" I asked as I stood in the open doorway, shuddering as the evening wind bit into my face, rubbing my arms for warmth. Isshiki chuckled at the sight, pushing back her hair over her ears, the honey color giving way to gray in the stark glow of the streetlamps behind her.
"If you fell sick again, Yukinoshita-senpai would never forgive me," she said as she threw her scarf around her neck. "Go get some rest, Senpai. Thanks for having me for dinner."
"It wasn't really my idea. My sister is pushy, but she means well. Though… I'm surprised you accepted, honestly. We still don't know each other that well, do we?"
"Don't we? I thought we were good friends already." Isshiki pouted for the briefest of moments, then quickly resumed her usual cheer. "But maybe that's why I accepted the offer. So that we could get to know each other better. Right?"
"You tell me," I replied.
She shrugged. "I mean, I don't really know myself. I just happened to be free today, and it seemed like a good idea. Why not, right?"
"The more you ask me whether it was a good idea or not, the less I'm inclined to answer you."
Isshiki laughed, though I could hear no mirth in the sound. "That's just like you, Senpai." She paused. "I'm jealous, you know. You and your sister really get along. Watching the two of you talk so freely… kinda makes me wish for something like that too." She spun around and faced away from me, pulling her scarf up above her mouth. "Maybe that's why I stayed for dinner," she mumbled through the fabric. "I wanted to see what being with someone close to you is like."
"What do you mean by…" My question trailed off as she flashed me a wave and darted down the street.
"Bye, Senpai!" she yelled without ever once looking back, as though she were bidding farewell to the world at large. "See you in a few days!"
I waved back as she vanished into the unlit darkness, mulling over her parting words. As I did, I suddenly felt an entirely different sort of anxiety wash over me. In all the tumult, I had almost forgotten what was due to happen at the end of the week. Now that I thought about it, I had done nothing to help her with her preparations for the upcoming meeting with Kaihin Sougou High School's student council – in fact, thanks to my selfishness, I had been nothing short of a hindrance at best – and now there was little more I could do but wring my hands and wait for the day of judgment to arrive.
For the first time in a long time, I felt the bitter disappointment of a plan gone awry. It wasn't my place to intervene personally in the student council's affairs – that just wasn't my style, and I wasn't even part of the student council to begin with. Yet it was difficult to see how else I could support Isshiki without doing the talking in her place again when push truly came to shove. After today, I highly doubted Yukinoshita – and by extension Yuigahama – would agree to help, and there was no one else I could turn to for guidance. Just yesterday, I was certain that I still had the ability to choose what I would do; only now did I realize that the choice had already been made for me.
Shaking my head, I retreated back into the familiar safety of my house, leaving whatever remained outside to freeze unto its demise.
