Chapter 5.5: Flicker
(Raiha's POV)
The familiar jingle of the spare key turning in the lock was followed by the soft click of the apartment door opening. "Tadaima!" I called out cheerfully, slipping off my sneakers in the tiny genkan. "Hope you don't mind a surprise guest for the weekend, Onii-chan!"
Silence. That wasn't entirely unusual; Onii-chan could get so engrossed in his work he wouldn't notice an earthquake, let alone his little sister arriving unannounced from university. Peeking into the main living/dining/kitchenette area – a space defined by its stark functionality and meticulous, if slightly worn, tidiness – I spotted him.
He was slumped in his desk chair, the one salvaged from our old apartment, staring blankly at his laptop screen, though it looked like it was just displaying his screensaver – a complex physics equation, naturally. He looked… exhausted. More so than usual, which was saying something. Dark shadows pooled under his eyes, and the tension around his mouth seemed etched deeper than when I'd last seen him a few weeks ago. My chest tightened with that familiar pang of worry and fierce protectiveness.
"Onii-chan?" I repeated, louder this time, stepping fully into the room and setting my overnight bag down.
He startled, blinking rapidly as if surfacing from deep water. His head snapped up, eyes widening slightly behind his glasses as they registered me. "Raiha? What are you doing here?" The surprise was genuine, momentarily overriding his usual guardedness.
"Weekend visit!" I chirped, beaming. "Figured you could use some proper home cooking instead of instant ramen and questionable cafeteria food. Plus, my economics midterm nearly melted my brain, I needed an escape." I bustled towards the tiny kitchen counter, already assessing the sparse contents of the fridge through its slightly opaque door. "Did you even eat dinner yet?"
He rubbed his eyes, pushing away from the desk. "Ah… no. Not yet. Long day." He ran a hand through his already messy hair. "You should have called first. I might not have been-"
"Been here?" I interrupted playfully, turning back with my hands on my hips. "Where else would you be? Chained to your desk at school until midnight? Honestly, Onii-chan, you need to relax sometimes." The familiar dynamic settled back into place – my cheerful nagging, his weary resignation tinged with affection he only really showed towards me.
He sighed, a sound heavy with the weight of responsibility I knew he carried. "It was Sports Day today. Undokai. Mandatory attendance, extended hours."
"Oh, Undokai! Was it fun?" I asked, genuinely curious. Images of energetic students, colorful flags, and maybe even Onii-chan being forced into some ridiculous faculty race flashed through my mind. Knowing him, probably not, but it was nice to imagine.
He made a noncommittal noise, sinking onto the small, threadbare sofa that doubled as the apartment's main seating area. "It was… loud. Disorganized. Prone to technical difficulties." He paused, leaning his head back against the cushions. "Had to deal with a major equipment failure. Scoreboard, PA system, timer – all went down simultaneously."
I perched on the armrest, listening. This sounded like standard Onii-chan complaining – finding fault in anything that deviated from logical efficiency. But then, something shifted. As he briefly described diagnosing the problem – tracing wires, identifying a faulty relay – the corner of his mouth quirked upwards. Just for a fraction of a second. It wasn't a smile, not really, more like the ghost of one, a momentary easing of the deep-set tension around his eyes. And his voice… it lost some of its usual flat weariness, gaining a faint hint of… satisfaction? Recollection? Something other than pure annoyance.
My internal antennae immediately went up. That flicker. It was tiny, almost imperceptible, but after years of decoding his micro-expressions, it stood out like a neon sign. That wasn't his usual reaction to recalling a troublesome event.
"Oh?" I asked, keeping my voice light, casual. "Sounds stressful. But you fixed it? Something good happen during all that chaos, Onii-chan?"
The flicker vanished instantly. His expression shuttered, the familiar guardedness snapping back into place like a physical barrier. The weary lines deepened around his eyes again. "No," he said curtly, his voice reverting to its usual flat monotone. "Just… dealt with the problem. A necessary task. The whole event was inefficient." He shifted on the sofa, deliberately turning his gaze towards the blank television screen. Deflection. Clear and immediate.
I recognized it instantly. The conversational door slamming shut. He did that whenever something touched too close to a nerve, or when he felt unexpectedly exposed. My mind raced. What happened during that equipment failure? It wasn't just fixing it… someone else must have been involved. Who could possibly elicit even a momentary positive flicker from him these days, especially at work? He rarely mentioned colleagues, and never with anything approaching warmth.
My thoughts immediately, unwillingly, drifted to them. The Nakano sisters. The source of the deep hurt and cynicism that had settled over him like a permanent winter after high school. The reason he barely trusted anyone anymore, the reason he worked himself to the bone, convinced that connection was conditional, fleeting. My fists clenched slightly in my lap. Just thinking about how they'd all just… faded away after he'd tried so hard, after he'd made that impossible choice for their sake… it still made my blood simmer with protective fury. He deserved so much better than how they'd treated him, than the weight he still carried because of them.
Could one of them be involved somehow? It seemed impossible. He'd severed those ties completely, hadn't he? He never spoke of them. It had to be something else. A competent student, maybe? Like that Sato-san he occasionally mentioned from the Student Council? Or just the simple satisfaction of solving a complex problem under pressure?
But the flicker… it hadn't felt purely technical.
I hopped off the armrest, forcing a cheerful smile back onto my face. Pushing him now would only make him retreat further into his shell. Better to observe. "Well, sounds like you definitely earned a good meal," I declared, heading back towards the kitchen. "How about some ginger pork stir-fry? I brought groceries!"
He grunted a vague affirmative, still staring at the blank TV.
As I started pulling ingredients from my bag – ginger, soy sauce, fresh vegetables that likely hadn't seen the inside of his fridge in weeks – my mind continued to churn. Something had happened today. Something unusual enough to momentarily pierce Onii-chan's armor. I didn't know what, or who, was involved. But I was here for the weekend. And I was going to keep my eyes open. He deserved a little lightness in his life, after everything. And if something – or someone – was actually bringing it, even for a second? I needed to know.