Chapter 2

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Chapter 2:  The Abandoned Older Sister And The Younger Sister Who Didn’t Die

[Fuuka’s POV]

Classes proceeded smoothly, and the classroom entered its lunch break.

As usual, several of my female classmates gathered around me, eating their packed lunches or bread bought from the school store.

“Long-distance running in PE was such a drag.”

“I’m so exhausted. Seriously, they should just make the boys with too much energy run.”

“Yeah, they could burn off some of their excess energy that way.”

They laughed at their not-so-polite conversation. Honestly, I don’t like this atmosphere, but as the saying goes, “When in Rome, do as the Romans do,” so I have no choice.

“But as usual, Fuuka, you were amazing.”

The conversation turned to me, so I lifted my face from my sandwich.

“You looked completely unfazed while running and even beat the track team members’ times.”

In the third period’s long-distance run, I had the best time among my classmates, surpassing even the three girls from the track team.

“Well, I’m not bad at sports.”

When I responded like that, they asked if there was anything I wasn’t good at.

Honestly, nothing came to mind in terms of general societal expectations.

“Hey, Kisaki-san.”

Someone called me, and I turned my head. Three classmates, who weren’t very close to me, judging by the fact that they used my last name, were standing there.

“Could you help us for a bit?”

They asked hesitantly, so I responded as gently as possible with, “What is it?”

They then handed me the printouts given to students who had scored poorly on the recent math test.

“We don’t understand some of the problems… We need to fill in all the answers by next time, and if they’re wrong, we’ll have to redo it.”

“Kisaki-san, you’re smart, so could you teach us?”

This kind of thing happens occasionally. And each time, it troubles me a little.

“Sorry, I’m not good at teaching others. I can give you the answers, but I can’t explain how to solve them.”

I’m bad at teaching others. I don’t understand what they don’t understand or where they get stuck. I’ve never stumbled over anything outside of family matters myself.

I was worried they might think I’m unpleasant, but the three who came to ask quickly understood and said they’d try a bit more on their own before asking for help again if they got stuck, smiling as they left.

“Oh, Kisaki, another sandwich? Bring a bento sometimes.”

A tall boy approached me, holding rice balls in both hands. Instead of a blazer, he wore a hoodie, and his hair was spiked with wax, clearly violating school rules.

Recently, he’s been talking to me a lot. His name is Ryo Izumi, if I recall correctly.

He’s the class clown and is always smiling.

“Don’t you get hungry with just that? Here, have one of my rice balls. My mom made them, but they’re a bit salty because she put a lot of fillings. Today’s beef simmered in grated radish.”

He joked as he offered me the rice ball in his right hand. It was quite large, about twice the size of those sold in convenience stores.

“Sorry, I can’t. I can’t eat that much.”

When I refused, others around us teased him, saying he’d been rejected.

He dramatically responded, “Oh, comfort me!” and dove into the chest of a nearby boy, stirring up the atmosphere. I envied his apparent lack of worries.

After school. I had stayed much later than usual, helping the homeroom teacher organize the social studies resource room. Just as I was about to leave the school gate alone, someone called out to me.

“Kisaki! You’re going home now too?”

Running toward me was Izumi, who had spoken to me during lunch.

“Yeah, you too, Izumi?”

“Yeah, I’m usually home later, but today’s club activities ended early. I thought I’d go straight home and help out at my family’s business.”

“What kind of business?”

“Sushi restaurant! It’s quite an old establishment.” So he’s the heir to a sushi restaurant. I could imagine him making sushi. It seemed to suit him well.

“Do you want to walk home together?”

I had no particular reason to refuse.

“Sure, that’s fine.”

It’s best not to antagonize someone popular like him, so I accepted.

Izumi smiled happily and started walking beside me. He kept talking while we walked. About club activities, his friends, his family. Each topic seemed to make him very happy. –He’s like a dog.

My younger sister is like a frightened kitten, but Izumi is like a friendly large dog. I thought about that while listening to Izumi half-heartedly.

Honestly, Izumi’s stories were too dazzling for me. Izumi talked happily, with a smile on his face. That’s because he loves everyone and everyone loves him.

I couldn’t help but feel jealous and empty. I’m trying to love my family, but I can’t do it well. My family doesn’t love me. As an extension of that, I can’t deeply connect with others.

Even though I pretend to be kind because I don’t want to be disliked. I get scared of sudden affection. Because I fear the day it might be lost.

The vicious cycle continues, and I don’t know how to break it. Eventually, Izumi finished talking about himself and asked me a question.

“Kisaki, why did you come to our high school? You’re smart, so you could’ve gone to a much better school.”

It’s a question others have asked me before. Each time, I dodged it with a vague answer.

But today, maybe because of everything that happened since morning, I felt like I could be honest, so I decided to tell the truth.

“We’re poor.”

“Huh?”

“My dad is clumsy. He often gets fired and gets easily deceived. The tuition is cheap, and it’s close enough that commuting doesn’t cost much. I didn’t have any other options.”

Izumi looked troubled and was silent for a while before finally saying, “I see.”

But soon after, he bounced back and started talking cheerfully again.

I thought he was a good person. Izumi didn’t try to apologize or probe deeper.

He just kept talking happily. He must be a truly considerate and kind person. As we walked, we turned a corner and saw someone familiar. About ten meters ahead.

My younger sister, Yumemi, was surrounded by four girls and forced to carry their bags.

“What’s wrong, Kisaki?”

I couldn’t respond to Izumi’s question. I stared at Yumemi and the girls surrounding her. Neither Yumemi nor the girls noticed me yet. The girls were wearing the same uniform from the middle school I attended until last year.

Probably classmates. There was no friendly atmosphere.

Right before my eyes, Yumemi was pushed by her shoulder.

“Ah!”

Yumemi hit her back against the building’s wall and let out a faint scream.

As I thought earlier, Yumemi was like a frightened kitten.

Her downcast, black eyes seemed more like a puppy’s, but her small, frail body reminded me more of a kitten’s vulnerability than a puppy’s roundness.

Even from a distance, I could see her thin arms trembling as she struggled to hold five bags, including her own.

“It’s bullying, no doubt about it.”

Beside me, Izumi muttered bitterly.

Yes, it is. Yumemi is being bullied. And it’s not the first time. Yumemi has always been bullied. She never told anyone about it, but I knew.

“You’re really clumsy. Your sister got all the good traits, right?”

“The teachers still praise your sister, who graduated last year.”

“You must have been born from the leftovers!”

“Ahaha!”

Yumemi gasped. With a pained, resigned look, she hung her head.

It’s my fault. Yumemi gets bullied because of me. A shiver ran down my spine, and sweat formed in my palms. I wanted to run away immediately.

“Hey, could it be…” Izumi asked quietly.

“Is that girl your sister?”

I couldn’t answer. But Izumi took my silence as a yes.

“Should I go help her?”

His words were undoubtedly kind and appreciated. But relying on him and leaving it to him would make me a terrible person. I took a step forward.

“Stop it.”

I approached them and spoke firmly. All eyes turned to me, and Yumemi’s eyes widened.

“Huh? Who are you?”

One of the girls, who seemed particularly strong-willed, asked suspiciously.

“I’m her sister, the one you mentioned earlier.”

When I replied, they looked surprised and stepped back a little.

“What are you doing to my sister?” I continued, narrowing my eyes.

One of the girls laughed nervously and said, “Oh, we were just playing around.”

My heart stirred uneasily.

“It didn’t look like that to me.”

I felt my brows furrow. I must have been making a terrible face.

“Really. Right, Yumemi?”

Yumemi was silent, looking down, refusing to lift her face.

The strong-willed girl got irritated and raised her voice, “Hey, Yumemi!”

Something snapped inside me. “Enough!”

It might have been the first time in a long while that I raised my voice so loudly. The place fell silent.

“You said it yourselves earlier.” I lowered my voice and spoke slowly.

“The teachers still like me even after I graduated. I could go to school and tell them about this.”

The girls’ eyes widened in agitation.

“If you don’t want that.”

I reached out and grabbed Yumemi’s arm, pulling her away from the girls. In the process, Yumemi dropped both her own bag and the bags the girls had given her to hold.

The moment I touched her, Yumemi’s body stiffened. Ignoring the dull pain in my chest caused by this realization, I shielded Yumemi behind me and gave the girls a final warning.

“From now on, don’t lay a finger on Yumemi.”

The girls, with faces mixed with frustration and fear, reluctantly agreed and picked up their bags before leaving together.

“Are you okay?”

Trying not to scare her, I asked Yumemi. She didn’t meet my eyes, but she gave a small nod.

“Good job.”

Izumi-kun, who had been watching from a distance, approached us. He picked up Yumemi’s fallen bag, dusted it off, and handed it to her.

Yumemi shrank back again, too scared to take it.

“Sorry, Izumi-kun. She’s really shy around strangers.”

When I apologized, Izumi-kun gave a wry smile and said, “It seems so,” before handing Yumemi’s bag to me.

“I’ll head home now.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

“No worries!”

Izumi-kun waved goodbye with a laugh and jogged away.

Walking home with Yumemi.

“…”

“…”

We walked in silence, not knowing what to say and feeling like it might be better to say nothing at all. Anything I said would probably just make Yumemi shrink further, and even if I apologized for earlier, it wouldn’t bring her any comfort. I had no idea what she was thinking, and honestly, that scared me.

As we continued walking, a thought struck me.

How long has it been since we last walked together like this?

I recalled a time long ago, when I was in the middle grades of elementary school and Yumemi was in the lower grades.

Elementary school, on the way home.

Yumemi stood alone in the shadow of a utility pole. We weren’t particularly close, but she was still my sister. I couldn’t just ignore her and go home, so I called out to her small back.

“Yumemi?”

She turned around with a helpless expression, holding a tiny white kitten in her arms. A cardboard box lay at her feet.

“Is it a stray?”

Yumemi nodded.

“It was in this box.”

Yumemi, who rarely expressed herself voluntarily, began speaking in a small, halting voice. It was unusual for her to say anything at all, so I listened intently, not wanting to miss a word. I knew that even speaking was a big effort for her.

“I was on my way home and heard it meowing, so I checked and found this kitten in the box.”

The kitten in her arms let out a meow. It sounded more like “meow” than “nya,” but either way, it was incredibly cute.

But that wasn’t the problem.

“What should we do?”

Yumemi’s troubled words echoed in my mind.

“What should we do indeed?”

I sighed and petted the kitten’s small head. I couldn’t just put it back in the box, but our mother didn’t like animals, and I knew our family couldn’t afford to keep a pet. It made me want to give up and go home.

But Yumemi had asked for my help for the first time. I wanted to do something for her.

“For now, let’s take it home. We can ask if we can keep it, and if not, we can at least keep it for one night and then look for someone to take it in tomorrow.”

Yumemi paused, then nodded.

When we got home with the kitten, our mother looked slightly distressed and asked what was going on. I explained the situation, and as expected, she said we couldn’t keep it.

She was about to refuse even keeping it for one night when our father came home and persuaded her to let us keep it for one night. That night, Yumemi spent all her time with the kitten. I was annoyed and told her that if she got too attached, it would be harder to part with it tomorrow.

Yumemi narrowed her eyes slightly and said, “I know, but that’s why I’m trying to make the most of our time together, so I won’t forget.”

She ended with a lonely smile. I realized that while I tried to avoid getting attached to avoid sadness, Yumemi was different. She tried to cherish the moments to avoid regret. We were not alike after all.

The next day.

After breakfast, Yumemi and I set out to find a new home for the kitten. We called our classmates, but no one could take it. We then visited every house in the neighborhood, asking if they could adopt the kitten.

Yumemi followed me silently, carrying the kitten, occasionally yawning, and looking adorable. I began to think that not only the kitten but also my little sister was cute.

By evening.

We hadn’t found anyone to take the kitten, and as we dragged our tired bodies home, I realized we might have to put it back in the box. I suggested we ask if we could keep it for one more night and then bring it to school to ask the teachers for help. This wasn’t for the kitten’s sake, but for Yumemi’s.

Yumemi’s small reply made me clench my fist. We would have a hard time at home tonight and again tomorrow, but I was determined to do my best.

Just as I thought that.

“Ah!”

The kitten jumped out of Yumemi’s arms and ran toward the street. Despite Yumemi’s desperate call, the kitten was hit by a car and was crushed.

That night.

Yumemi and I were at a park, well past curfew, but I didn’t care. I was digging a hole with rocks, sticks, and my hands, dirt filling my nails, sweat pouring down my face. I didn’t care about my dirty hands or face; I just kept digging. After finishing the hole, I turned around. Yumemi stood there, holding the kitten’s crushed body, her arms and clothes covered in blood, like a scene from a horror movie.

“Yumemi.”

When I called her name, she slowly lowered the kitten into the hole. We buried it together and placed flowers on the grave.

Yumemi didn’t cry. Her eyes were moist, but not a single tear fell. I realized then that I had never seen her cry.

So, I couldn’t cry either.

By the time we finished our walk down memory lane, we arrived home. Despite my thoughts, I instinctively navigated the familiar path.

As I entered, calling out ‘I’m home,’ there was no response. It seemed Father wasn’t home. Mother, even if she were, wouldn’t respond. Yumemi silently followed me in. Passing by the living room, I was startled to see Father there. Despite our strained relationship, he always responded to greetings, but today, he didn’t. Feeling uneasy, I called out to him.

“Father!”

He looked up, startled, and finally noticed me.

“Oh, you’re back. Welcome home.”

It seemed he hadn’t ignored me on purpose, but the unease lingered.

“Yeah, I’m back. Where’s Mother?”

“She went shopping. She should be back soon.”

“I see.”

Still feeling uncertain, I followed Yumemi’s lead and went to my room, changed into my loungewear, and decided to draw until dinner.

After some time.

When I checked the clock, it was time for dinner, so I headed to the living room. Dinner was usually at 7:30, so we gathered before that. Seeing the spread of food on the table, I was surprised.

“Dinner looks amazing tonight.”

For our financially struggling family, this was unusual.

Father, already seated, smiled faintly and said, “Once in a while.”

Even his expression was rare. As Yumemi entered the room, she also seemed surprised but said nothing. Mother brought another dish from the kitchen, and we began to eat. The food was delicious, and I ate heartily.

As I finished first and said “Thank you.” I felt dizzy.

“Huh?”

I collapsed on the tatami mat, my body heavy and unresponsive. My vision blurred.

This is…sleepiness.

Seeing Yumemi in the same state, I realized we had been drugged. Only four of us lived in this house: me, Yumemi, Father, and Mother. Mother had cooked dinner.

“Why…”

Why did this happen?

“I’m sorry.”

A voice apologized. Forcing my body to move, I looked up.

I gasped.

Father was crying, yet smiling. He apologized in a trembling voice.

“I’m sorry, Fuuka.”

Mother, with her usual emotionless face tinged with a hint of sadness, followed.

“I’m sorry.”

Why? Why are they looking at me like that?

“We’re beyond help. But you…”

“You’re different from us.”

What does that mean? My nose stung. Sure, I was good at studying and sports. I excelled at everything I tried. But why did that mean I had to be—

“Goodbye, Fuka.”

Father carried Yumemi over his shoulder.

“Goodbye.”

Mother turned her back and followed them, leaving me behind.

“Don’t leave me!”

The sliding door of the entrance opened and closed with a clatter. Warmed tears traced my cheeks, soaking my heart with loneliness making me utterly alone.

With despair, the world goes dark. My consciousness sank into darkness. Embracing the words and feelings that I could not convey, I fell into a deathly sleep.

When I woke up, my uncle and aunt, along with the police, were around me.

Apparently, the car my father was driving, carrying Yumemi and my mother, had collided with a large truck.

A family suicide driven by despair.

Although Yumemi and I hadn’t been told, my father had been fired from his job again, and our family was heavily in debt, with the house and land already mortgaged. With no way out, my father had even gone to bow his head to my uncle, with whom he had a poor relationship.

Yes, my father and my uncle didn’t get along. The reason was that their abilities were too different.

Everyone in my father’s family was highly successful. They were doctors, lawyers — society’s winners. But for some reason, my father alone failed both his high school and university entrance exams.

Nothing went well for him, and as he drifted from job to job, he met my mother. My mother had poor communication skills and couldn’t make proper friends, but that was precisely why my father chose her as his partner. She didn’t evoke feelings of inferiority in him.

Yumemi was born between those two.

But for some reason, I alone —

It wasn’t that they disliked me. Nor was I neglected. I just felt like an extra puzzle piece that didn’t fit anywhere.

I alone was out of place in the family.

“Are they all dead…?”

I looked down. I couldn’t even cry. I was left behind. I alone, once again, was left behind.

“No, not all of them,” my uncle said, lifting my spirits.

“Huh?”

His usually stern face showed a bitter expression.

“They said she has a severe head injury and hasn’t regained consciousness yet. Even if she wakes up, they fear she may have some lasting disabilities…”

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hear more or not. But I couldn’t cover my ears. I watched my uncle’s thick lips as he spoke the next words.

“Yumemi is alive.”

A white room.

A hospital room.

Since it was a private room, there was only one bed.

Lying there was Yumemi, my little sister.

“She’s in a terrible state.”

Her entire body was wrapped in bandages, and her already pale skin looked even whiter. Her tightly closed eyes seemed like they would never open again. She looked exactly like my father and mother did in the mortuary, never to awaken again.

“I… Uncle wants to adopt me,” I said in a small voice, sitting on a shabby chair next to the bed. The room was just Yumemi and me. Yumemi, unconscious, couldn’t hear my words. So, my words went unheard by anyone, dissolving into the air.

“Uncle and Aunt don’t have children. They said, ‘Unlike your father, you’re talented, so it’s perfect.'”

My feelings had never once reached anyone.

“What’s perfect about that?”

My words never reached anyone.

“Don’t say ‘unlike him’…!”

I hugged my head and curled up. When I closed my eyes tightly, it was dark.

There was nothing but darkness.

“I asked about Yumemi.”

Darkness was calming. It felt like I was the only one in the world. Darkness was terrifying. It felt like I was the only one in the world. So, I lifted my eyelids and opened my eyes.

“…!”

Our eyes met.

Her right eye had lost its color, and her left eye was still half-closed. But even so, Yumemi had woken up and was looking at me.

Only at me.

“If you want, we can take Yumemi in too,” my uncle had said.

Oh.

I felt my mouth curling into a twisted smile. My forehead felt unusually hot.

“Hey, Yumemi.”

I reached out and touched her cheek. Yumemi didn’t resist. She probably couldn’t.

Because now—

She only had me.

“I’ll stay by your side.”

You can’t live alone, can you? You need me, don’t you? Right? You need me, don’t you?

Yumemi said nothing. The warmth I felt from her was faint and unreliable. But even so, it reached me.

So I closed my eyes again.