True eternity lies not in the snowflake, with its perfect, even edges, but in what is left behind when it crumbles and melts away.

Prologue—Yuuta Asamura

I was in the living room in the middle of the night, listening to the air conditioner hum as it held back the winter chill. I groaned softly along with the sound of the machine, solving problems in my physics workbook. Without looking, I felt along the table’s surface, grabbed my cup, and took a sip.

Hmm?

My concentration broke when liquid failed to reach my lips. The coffee cup was empty.

I tilted it further and pathetically licked up the last few drops, but that was it—nothing else was left.

It was late. If I had another cup, I might not be able to sleep at all. I considered my options. My mind dull and unfocused, I debated pouring myself a glass of something else.

That was when I heard a voice behind me. “Huh?”

I turned around and saw Ayase. She and I were the same age, and we’d become stepsiblings about six months ago.

“Oh, sorry,” I said. “Did the sound of the air conditioner bother you?”

“Oh, no. My door was closed. I was just surprised to see you in the living room at this hour.”

I looked up at the clock and realized that it was a little after eleven. Around this time, I was usually holed up in my room.

“Do you want some hot chocolate?” Ayase asked, pointing to the empty cup in my hand.

“Yeah, that sounds nice.”

“I’m having some, so I’ll make you a cup, too.”

“Thanks.”

After turning on the electric kettle, Ayase took a can of hot chocolate powder from the cupboard, as well as a cup for herself and a large mug. Then she sat down and waited.

In the meantime, I rinsed out the cup I’d been using, then I opened the fridge and got some milk. I poured that into the large mug, popped it in the microwave, and pressed the button marked HOT MILK.

Once the kettle went off, Ayase took her own cup and put in the hot chocolate powder, sugar, and a small amount of boiling water, then stirred the mixture into a paste. She was usually cool and composed, but now, spoon in hand, she stirred and stirred like an eager child.

Suddenly, the microwave pinged.

“It’s done,” I announced.

“Thanks.” Ayase poured half the hot chocolate paste into my cup, then mixed in the milk a little at a time.

“Adding some butter would make it taste really good,” Ayase said, sounding a little hesitant.

“We don’t need to make it that authentic.”

“I guess not. It’s pretty late, after all,” she said, stirring the chocolate paste into the milk. “Speaking of, don’t you usually study in your room?”

“That’s what I was doing. But I started to lose focus, so I came out here. I thought moving might clear my mind.”

“I see. That makes some sense.” She finished stirring and pushed the cup toward me. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.”

Next, she started working on her own cup. It might not seem like much, but Ayase almost always prepared everyone else’s drinks or snacks before her own. That was just who she was. The exception was when she was making things that were served hot and cooled off quickly. Then she’d finish hers first, so whoever she was with would get the freshest one.

Ever since I started living with Ayase, I’d begun to pay more attention to the little things people did around me.

“Okay, mine’s done, too.” Looking satisfied, Ayase brought her cup to her mouth and tilted it. I saw her throat bob as she swallowed, then her eyes narrowed in a smile.

I drank a bit, too. “Mmm. It’s good.”

“You didn’t have to wait for me.”

“I wanted to let you have a taste before I spoiled how delicious it was.”

Ayase chuckled. “You’re a real weirdo.”

The aroma of hot chocolate wafted up to my nostrils as time seemed to slow down. We both took another sip.

“It’s getting cold these days,” said Ayase.

“Yeah. It’s already December.”

I couldn’t stop focusing on her lips as she spoke and sipped her hot chocolate. They were cherry red.

A blush rose to my cheeks as I recalled what had happened on Halloween night. We’d sought each other’s touch as two people in love, confirming our feelings with a kiss.

Back in autumn, I’d been happy just to be near her and to feel her warmth. But as we entered winter, I began to want more. Did people grow accustomed even to happiness, so that they needed more and more?

We’d only kissed the one time. After Halloween, it was already time to study for exams.

Ayase and I both understood the importance of getting good grades, and we’d agreed not to let ourselves get distracted.

We also had to think about timing, since we couldn’t let anyone else find out about us. We were siblings in high school, and we still lived with our parents. It was awkward enough for two classmates to flirt at home. For a brother and sister, the hurdle was even higher.

I mulled all this over as I drank my hot chocolate. Was there any way for us to increase our time together as a couple?

Suddenly, a thought came to me.

Both our birthdays were in December. Only last week, we’d discussed celebrating with our family, and I’d found out that Ayase’s birthday was on the twentieth. Mine, incidentally, was on the thirteenth.

As expected, our parents quickly decided we would celebrate them both on the twenty-fourth. Ayase and I had just been discussing how our birthdays always got lumped together with Christmas, and we couldn’t help laughing when it happened again—this time, to both of us at once.

“What are you laughing about?” Ayase asked, looking at me quizzically. “Did you remember something funny?”

“Yeah, I guess I did.”

“Huh.”

Ayase got up without prying any further. Holding her cup between her hands as if to warm them, she headed back to her room. Then a thought seemed to strike her, and she tiptoed quietly back to the table.

“Hey, about our birthdays,” she said.

“Huh?”

My heart skipped a beat. Strangely, just knowing the person I loved was having the same thought that I was brought warmth to my chest.

“Our family might be celebrating on the twenty-fourth, but why don’t the two of us do something on the day of?”

“You mean on the thirteenth and the twentieth?”

“Yeah. Neither of us have ever celebrated on our actual birthday, right?”

“I guess not.”

“I figured. I was thinking it would be nice to spend our birthdays not as siblings, but as…you know.”

I did know. And I felt the same way.

“Yeah, I think so, too.”

“In that case, I have something I’d like to discuss. I was going to tell you after exams, but…” Ayase proceeded to share a certain conversation she’d had with Dad around Halloween.

“Even if you did break the law, you’d have to be punished, of course, but I wouldn’t disown you or Yuuta. Ever.”

Apparently, Dad had said that. I thought he’d just been trying to act cool, but I kept that to myself. I was sure he’d meant what he said, either way.

“I bet Akiko would say the same thing to me,” I said. “Though she probably wouldn’t say it in front of you.”

“Maybe not.” Her answer was short, but I could see a smile forming on her face. The thought must have made her happy.

“Anyway, when I heard that, I had a thought.” Ayase swallowed. She seemed unsure if she should say the next part out loud. In the end, she went ahead. “Maybe our family would approve of our relationship.”

I thought it over. It seemed possible.

“Personally, I think Dad would be honest with us. He’d tell us straight-out if he didn’t like it or if it wasn’t all right with him. He might look like a pushover, but he’s got a pretty thick skin. Maybe it would be fine.” Even when his previous marriage fell apart, Dad never complained, though he did apologize to me. “But I’m not sure if Akiko would be honest with us if she had mixed feelings.”

“So you think your dad would be okay with it, but you aren’t sure about my mom. Can I ask why?”

“I’m worried she might regret getting married to Dad.”

“Asamura, have you seen them? Those two would never—”

“I know in my head that Akiko is different, but my birth mother always hid how unhappy she was. I can’t help wondering if Akiko is only holding in her frustrations…just like she did.”

“Geez.”

That was all Ayase said. I was sure she wanted to deny what I was saying outright, and I had to respect her self-restraint.

I was letting my bad memories of my birth mother color my impression of Akiko; I knew it was disrespectful to her. But I couldn’t help feeling that maybe things were going well right now only because Dad and Akiko were still in love and that dissatisfaction might be bubbling up somewhere we couldn’t see. Since I couldn’t read minds, it was impossible for me to be sure.

I knew too well what happened when a person kept their unhappiness bottled up inside.

The only time my father and mother stopped arguing was when we celebrated my birthday.

Ayase took a breath. “It was the same for me.”

I gasped. If Dad started regretting his marriage, Ayase would be just as sad.

“I had the same concerns until I spoke to him,” she said.

“You did?”

“Yeah… But I won’t tell you to talk to Mom. Even if she said the same thing, you aren’t me, and you won’t necessarily feel the same way I do.”

“Oh yeah. I guess not.”

“Anyway,” she said, smiling, “I don’t think we need to confess to everything just yet.”

Her expression reassured me. She seemed to be saying, “It’s all right,” and looking at her, my heart felt lighter.

“Let’s talk about our birthdays later,” she said. “I’ll go back to studying for now.”

“Okay. I’ll keep working out here for a little while.”

“Don’t push yourself too hard.”

“Same to you.”

I watched her, white cardigan slung over her shoulders, as she walked back into her room and closed the door. Then I sighed and drained my cup. The chocolate powder that had collected at the bottom stuck to my throat, refusing to go down.

December 11 (Friday)—Yuuta Asamura

The last bell rang over the school PA system, and the teacher disappeared into the hallway. Chairs rattled as students started chatting and heading to clubs or to hang out after school.

Everyone looked refreshed, perhaps because we’d finally received all our exam results.

The big guy sitting in front of me—my buddy Maru—got to his feet and grabbed his bag. I figured he was heading to baseball practice as usual, but…

“Oh yeah. Asamura.”

…he called out to me instead, taking me by surprise. Maru usually left right away without saying much.

“Yeah?”

“I need to head to practice, but would you mind coming with me?”

“To practice? Why?”

“There’s something I want to give you.”

“Well… Okay.”

I didn’t have anything else to do, so I took my bag and followed Maru. I figured I’d head straight home once we were done.

I glanced out the window as we walked down the hall. The trees along the side of the building had lost all their leaves; winter was here in earnest. Through their bare branches, I could see the school’s small courtyard. The only spot of color remaining was the evergreen hedge, and no one was sitting on the bench beside it. A single dead leaf was swirling in the wind near the edge of the lawn—a forgotten vestige of autumn.

“Hey, Maru. How did you do on your exam?”

“Hmm? My total score was 828.”

“Wow.”

Maru was something else. He managed to retain his spot as a regular on the baseball team and still scored high on all his tests. I’d only managed 819.

“I worked pretty hard this time,” I said, “but I still have a long way to go to catch up to you.”

“Hmm. There’s no need to compare yourself to me, though.”

“Still.”

I’d brought my score up significantly since last time, and I was steadily catching up to Maru.

“I get the feeling you’ve been improving a lot since summer,” Maru said.

“It must be thanks to those summer courses I took.”

“Is that really the only reason?”

“Hmm?”

“Oh, never mind.”

With that, Maru stopped talking and simply continued on ahead.

We headed out the entrance, and I shivered in the chilly wind. My fingertips were already starting to go numb. I couldn’t believe our school’s athletes practiced outside in this weather until the sun went down. A guy like me, who went straight home after school, just couldn’t compare.

Soon, we reached the club building. It was two stories high and built like a cheap apartment building. Both floors were taken up by sports clubs, and the baseball team occupied the front room closest to the field.

As soon as I went through the door, the smell of sweat hit me, followed by the scent of the citrus spray used to mask it. The walls were lined with cubbies for the players’ equipment. Each one reflected its owner’s personality—some were neat and tidy, while others were crammed with a jumble of spikes and gloves. In the corner, I saw several metal bats stored in what looked like umbrella stands.

Club members were chatting and laughing as they changed into their uniforms. When they noticed Maru, they called out to him and greeted me politely. He introduced me as his classmate, and I gave a small bow.

All the younger guys looked at me with respect, even though we’d never met before. Was it just because I was Maru’s friend? I felt like a fish out of water, and I barely said a word.

As I waited by the entrance in a daze, Maru strode across the room, took a paper bag out of his locker, and tossed his backpack inside in its place.

He’d only walked across the room, but his club mates kept calling out to him in friendly voices and stopping him.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he said once he got back to me.

“Not at all.” It felt pretty good to see how well-liked my friend was. It didn’t have much to do with me, but it made me happy anyway. “So what was it you wanted to give me?”

“Here you go. I didn’t want to leave it in the classroom.”

Maru handed me the paper bag. It was small enough to fit under my arm. I peeked inside and saw three volumes of manga—and not the typical size, either, but the slightly bigger ones that were typically meant for an older crowd.

Suddenly, it made sense; it wasn’t easy to bring manga into the classroom.

“Are these for me?” I asked.

“They’re my latest recommendations, and they’re fantastic! Personally, I’d like to nominate them for the Next Biggest Hit Award.”

“Yeah? I can’t wait to read them.”

That said, he didn’t have to bring them if it meant hiding them in his club locker. He could have just waited and handed them over the next time we met up outside school. Or so I thought, but…

“I bought extra copies so I could proselytize. Your birthday’s coming up on Sunday, right?”

…at that, I realized the paper bag was my birthday gift.

“So that’s why you went to all this trouble to give these to me.”

“They might be on the geeky side, but they’re great.”

“Have you ever recommended anything to me that wasn’t geeky?”

“Ha-ha. Brutal. Just so you know, I also read the big-name titles. So don’t concern yourself with my tastes and enjoy yourself.”

“Okay, okay—and thanks. I really appreciate it.”

I wound up teasing him, but I was genuinely happy. I never expected him to give me a present. Maru and I had never talked about celebrating each other’s birthdays, and we hadn’t exchanged any gifts the year before. This had come as quite a surprise.

But come to think of it, about six months ago, Maru had mentioned something about sending someone a birthday present. When I asked him about it, he’d dodged my questions, but maybe that experience had inspired him to give me a gift, too.

I’d have to return the favor when his birthday came around.

“I thought I should give it to you now since I won’t see you on Sunday.”

“Yeah, I know you guys have weekend practice.”

“Sorry I won’t be able to celebrate with you. But I’m sure you have plenty of other people to party with.”

“I really don’t. And I’m really happy you thought to give me a gift.”

“It’s nothing special, so don’t worry about it. I’ll see you later.”

Maru waved at me, then went back into the clubroom. I was about to leave when one of the other players ran up to me. He looked to be in our grade.

“Does Maru talk to you about Narasaka?” he asked, voice hushed.

I hadn’t expected to hear that name here of all places. “Uh, Narasaka…? You mean, um…”

“Yeah, that pretty girl.”

“Oh, okay. But what does she have to do with Maru?”

“Someone said they saw them talking. It looked like they were pretty close.”

“He hasn’t mentioned anything to me.”

I wasn’t lying. Maru hadn’t said anything to me about it. Of course, even if he had, I wasn’t about to discuss his private life with just anyone.

“Oh, okay…”

It seemed he thought the two of them might be dating, since they were both good students. Apparently, he’d asked the man himself, but Maru wouldn’t even tell him what they’d been talking about. He hadn’t denied speaking with her, though.

“Sorry to have bothered you on your way out,” he said at last.

“No problem. Bye.” I bowed, then left the clubroom.

As I made my way to the bicycle lot, I thought over what I’d heard.

Maru dating Narasaka, huh?

I thought the guy was simply overthinking things. But if it was true, that meant Maru and Narasaka were keeping it hidden from Ayase and me. Another secret relationship.

Then again, why would a couple go around announcing their relationship to everyone? Even if it wasn’t the same as my situation with Ayase, it wasn’t that unusual to keep that kind of thing a secret. Was there really a reason to hold up a sign reading, “As of today, the two of us are officially dating!”?

“…Wait a sec.”

Maybe there was a reason. You saw it in the animal kingdom, too, among social groups in the wild. When males and females got together, they let everyone else in the group know. Even humans had rituals like engagements and marriage. When a regular boy and girl got together, those around them typically congratulated them, didn’t they? If other people were going to celebrate it, then there was a reason to tell them.

Or wait. If Maru was dating a girl as popular as Narasaka, maybe he’d have to deal with more jealous male classmates than congratulations. In that case, I could understand the need for secrecy… But hold on a minute. It’s not like she’s a teen idol.

So in the end, isn’t it actually kind of weird for two people who are dating to hide their relationship?

I’ve gotta stop flip-flopping on this.

What’s more, these days, it’s considered wrong to discriminate based on marital status, both in daily life and in the workplace. So there’s no real need to tell the world every little detail about yourself. Right?

“Haah.”

I sighed, overwhelmed by my roiling thoughts.

I didn’t even know if Maru and Narasaka were really dating; there wasn’t much point in dwelling on it.

I threw my bag into my bicycle’s basket and started pedaling with all my might.

I had to head to the bookstore that day for my part-time job.

I was walking through the December dusk. The patches of sky I could see between buildings were already a deep indigo, and twinkling LED lights had begun to illuminate Shibuya Center Gai. Gaudy lights, sounds, and people swirled about all around me.

The trees outside Shibuya Station had been decorated with electric lights. Someone had even dressed up the famous statue of Hachiko; the loyal dog now sported a festive red ribbon and seemed to puff out his chest as if proud of his fancy new outfit. Big ad banners hung from the roofs of buildings, with large gothic letters, clearly visible even at night, declaring special winter sales with gusto.

The bookstore where I worked was no different. You could see red, green, and white garlands everywhere, and snowflake patterns had been spray-painted on the glass near the entrance.

Christmas is still two whole weeks away, I thought as I stepped into the store. I looked around and breathed a small sigh.

Bookstores don’t see a lot of seasonal change in foot traffic, but they still tend to get crowded around this time of year, when more people are out shopping. Today seemed even busier than usual.

The moment I saw the manager, he delivered some shocking news.

“What?! Yomiuri is sick?” I exclaimed.

“Yeah. It’s just you and Ayase today. It’ll be a little more hectic than you’re used to, but I’m counting on you.”

“Um, okay. Got it.”

Ayase and I have to handle the registers alone now of all times…? I braced myself for the worst.

After changing into my work clothes, I went out onto the sales floor. Just then, Ayase scrambled in, still wearing her school uniform.

“Sorry I’m late!” she called out.

“It’s okay. Our shift hasn’t started yet.”

We still had about ten minutes to go. There was no need for her to rush.

I went around and greeted the other part-timers currently working the registers, then headed into the office area at the back. If we only had two employees working the floor, we’d probably be stuck behind the registers until reinforcements came in a bit later. If possible, I wanted to check on our inventory ahead of time.

“Crap, I should’ve taken a look at the shelves first.” I groaned, staring at the piles of merchandise in the back.

It was pointless to know the number of magazines we had in stock if I didn’t know how much space we had left in the displays. We could always check our inventory from the PC at the register, but it was better to have a physical grasp of the situation as well.

Yomiuri would have taken a quick look around the store before she went to the back. I’d totally mixed up the steps. I bit my lip and glanced at the clock on the wall. I had three minutes until I needed to start my shift. There was nothing I could do about it now.

I headed for the cash registers, a little uneasy without Yomiuri’s reassuring presence.

“It’s time,” I said. “I’ll take over now!”

“Thanks. See you later.”

“Thanks, Asamura. Have a good shift!”

The two employees behind the register bowed and stepped out, and I took their place behind the counter. A little later, Ayase joined me.

We barely had time to say hello before the next group of customers approached. I ran through the standard lines without issue and processed each order with practiced ease. But as soon as one person left, another took their place. I had no time to catch my breath.

It really was a busy day. What’s more, with Christmas coming up, we got a lot of gift-wrapping requests, and that took even more time and effort. Putting regular paper covers on books was troublesome enough on its own, but gift wrapping was even more complicated.

First, we had to ask the customer if they wanted the regular wrapping paper or the one in Christmas colors. We’d pull out physical examples of each and have the customer choose. Most people wanted Christmas colors around this time of year, of course. Once the purchase was wrapped up, we’d tie a ribbon on it.

The thin, flat ribbon was easy to get twisted, and if it came out crooked, we had to do it over. We had to crisscross it around the package, then tie it in a bow and trim the ends with scissors. It was important to cut them at an angle, rather than straight, so they looked pretty.

Back when I first learned, I was pretty bad at it. I still feel bad for the people who had to live with my sorry work. Even now, I break out in a cold sweat whenever someone asks me to wrap their purchase. Lately, I’ve been thinking about birthday presents for Ayase, so I’m extra conscientious about it. I want to do a good job so that the recipient won’t be disappointed.

A birthday present for Ayase.

My hands continued to work as my mind began to drift, escaping from the hustle and bustle of the bookstore.

What should I get her? What would make Ayase happy?

Back when I’d bought a gift for Narasaka, I’d left the choice up to Ayase. She knew what her friend liked, so it had all worked out.

“Hey, how’s it going?”

The manager’s voice pulled me back to the present. While I’d been busy thinking, I’d finished handling all the customers in line.

“Help will be here soon,” he said, “so keep at it.”

“Yes, sir.”

Ayase and I were both reminded of how hard it was to handle things without our veteran senior coworker’s help. With the cash registers swamped, we didn’t even have time to think about keeping the sales floor stocked and organized.

“Things are slowing down a bit now,” she said, “but it’s been really hectic today, huh?”

“It’s tough with just the two of us.”

“I’m worried about Yomiuri.”

“I hope it’s only a cold… We should be careful, too.”

As the flow of customers petered out, I stepped out from behind the counter. “I’m going to check the sales floor.”

“Thanks!”

I was careful not to rush as I noted the number of magazines stacked on the display tables and looked for empty spots on the shelves. At the same time, I also scanned the area to see if any customers needed help.

I was touring through the shelves, trying to get back to the registers as quicky as possible, when I encountered a customer searching for a historical fantasy for his wife. It took a while to find, since it turned out to be a comic book, and we ended up going back and forth as we hunted for the right section. By the time we were finished, the checkout line had filled back up.

I couldn’t afford to spend any more time out on the sales floor, so I went back behind the counter. About an hour later, another coworker joined us, and we were finally able to catch our breath.

It was late at night by the time I finished my shift and left the store.

I was walking down the sidewalk with Ayase, pushing my bike. The street was lined with trees lit up in Christmas colors. I could see my breath, and the handlebars on my bike were cold enough that my fingertips began to sting.

“Why aren’t you wearing gloves?” Ayase asked, casting me a sideways glance.

“My hands feel like they’re slipping when I wear gloves. That’s just how it seems to me, though.”

I wasn’t sure if that was a fact or simply my imagination. I knew there were gloves made specifically for riding bikes and motorcycles, so I figured it was probably safer to wear them.

Speaking of bike safety, the Tokyo Metropolitan Government had recently started promoting helmet safety for high schoolers. Suisei High still didn’t require them, but the rules were likely to change soon. Gloves might be next.

“All the more reason to wear them,” said Ayase. I heard concern in her voice, and that made it harder to casually brush off the subject. I knew she was worried about me.

“Yeah, you’re right,” I said. “I’ll look into it.”

It wouldn’t be easy to get both a helmet and gloves at once, though.

“You aren’t wearing a scarf, either. Aren’t you cold?”

“I think a scarf might be dangerous. It might catch on something while I’m moving…”

“Oh yeah. Good point.”

“I guess I could push it inside my jacket or wear a neck warmer. But I’m actually not that cold.”

Ayase nodded. “Still, it’s really chilly today. Hey, bring your bike over here.”

“What? Won’t it get in your way?”

I didn’t know what she was after, but I did as she said and pulled my bike between us, regretting the added distance.

But then Ayase gently placed her left hand on top of my right hand—the one closest to her—atop the handlebar.

Ah, so that’s what she wanted.

If I’d kept my bike on the opposite side, she would have had to extend her arm in front of me. That would have been dangerous and made it difficult to walk.

I felt Ayase’s warmth through her fluffy glove as it seeped into the back of my hand.

“Are you a little warmer now?” she asked.

“Oh… Yeah.”

“This is the best I can do, since you have to keep holding on to your bike.”

“I know. Thanks.”

Her touch was gentle so as not to restrict my movement. Still, it helped block the wind and allowed Ayase to share some of her warmth.

We walked for a while in silence.

The street was crowded, and though I knew most people didn’t pay attention to strangers, I felt like they were all stealing glances at our overlapping hands.

To hide my embarrassment, I brought up our exam results. When I told Ayase my score, she said she’d gotten 815 points total. It wasn’t all that different from my score of 819, but I could see the frustration on her face.

“You beat me again…”

“A 4-point difference doesn’t mean anything. And your 94 in Modern Japanese is fantastic.”

She’d gone from a failing grade to a 94 in only six months. It was truly impressive.

My score wasn’t much better, and I was attending prep school. If she started going, too, she could probably get into the top ten.

I told her that, and she shook her head.

“I don’t intend to go to prep school.”

“I guess it is pretty expensive.”

Considering Ayase’s natural reluctance to rely on others, it was no wonder she wanted to study on her own.

“I don’t have anything against attending a prep school…but I don’t want to cause trouble for other people. I know you said that learning how to rely on others is important, but…”

“Well, I was just repeating something I heard from Yomiuri.”

“I understand what you were saying, but I don’t feel like signing up for classes just yet.”

“I’ll help get you set up if you ever do.”

“Thanks.”

After that, Ayase fell silent and squeezed my hand slightly. I felt the pressure; it wasn’t strong enough to restrict my movement, but even more heat seemed to radiate from her fingers. White breath spilled out from my mouth, and I shivered as the winter wind crept in at my collar. And yet that one hand, clasped in hers, was filled with warmth.

“Besides, if we’re together…,” Ayase began, but she was speaking so quietly that I couldn’t hear the rest.

By the time I turned toward her, she was already facing forward again, looking up at the darkness ahead.

We left the main street and its crowds behind and made our way down the narrow path to our apartment. Once we passed the glowing yellow sign of the hourly paid parking lot, the lights of our home came into view—the home my stepsister and I lived in together.

When I got home, I glanced at the dining room table. There was a plastic bag containing a few cartons of premade food, along with a sticky note reading, “Dinner!”

I quickly checked my phone and saw I had a message from Dad. Apparently, he’d bought food on his way home from work. I opened the bag and checked the contents.

“Fried dumplings, huh?”

“And here’s some sweet-and-sour pork and shredded beef with green peppers.” Ayase pulled the food out and placed it on the table. “Looks like it’s ready to eat.”

Because our shifts at the bookstore had been adjusted, Ayase and I had to go straight to work after school without stopping by the apartment. That meant neither of us had time to start preparing dinner.

We’d let Dad know; he must have bought us food to help out. He’d already finished eating and was in his room, sleeping. Akiko, of course, was at work.

“Asamura, do you want some soup to go with your meal?”

“I think we have some that you can just heat up. Does that work for you?”

Ayase nodded, so I went to the cupboard and pulled out the dry corn soup—the kind you added hot water to. I placed two miso soup bowls on the table while I waited for the water in the electric kettle to boil. Meanwhile, Ayase transferred the food onto plates.

If it was just me, I would have eaten the food cold, straight out of the plastic containers it came in. But Ayase preferred to heat everything and dish it out onto plates. She felt that proper presentation improved a meal. Sure enough, once I saw the food arranged neatly on blue plates, steam rising up from each dish, I could feel the boost in my appetite.

Once everything was ready, we scooped hot rice into bowls and dug in.

After a while, Ayase looked at me and asked casually, “Is that what you use when you eat fried dumplings?”

“Huh? Is there something weird about it?”

She and I were dipping our dumplings in sauce poured into little dishes. At a glance, they looked exactly the same, but I soon noticed the difference.

“Is that just vinegar?” I asked.

“Yeah. Don’t tell me you’re only using soy sauce?”

“What?! Isn’t soy sauce the normal choice?”

“I’ve always had vinegar.”

“…Is it good?”

“I’d like to ask you the same question.”

I couldn’t imagine what dipping fried dumplings in vinegar would taste like. I said as much, and Ayase slid her dipping sauce in front of me, as if to say, “Then try some.”

Time seemed to freeze.

Was it okay for me to use Ayase’s sauce dish?

Some people aren’t comfortable sharing with others, even family members. Personally, I didn’t mind. That said, sharing with Ayase held special meaning for me. I hesitated a moment, then told myself that things like this were normal for siblings.

I dipped one of my dumplings in Ayase’s vinegar and took a bite. She’d heated them in the microwave, and when I bit through the skin, the warm, flavorful juice flowed out and blended with the tart, unfamiliar taste of vinegar. It was different but not too sour. In fact, it was pretty delicious. It was hard to put the difference into words.

“Ah, I think I understand now,” I said.

“Do you like it?”

“Yeah, it’s good. The flavor isn’t quite as powerful, but it’s more refreshing.”

“See? It’s nice with some pepper, too.”

“What does Akiko put on hers?”

“She’s the same as me. She says the taste of soy sauce is too overpowering.”

“I see. Do you want to try mine?”

I slid my sauce dish toward her, and she dipped one of her dumplings in it. When she got it all the way to her mouth, she stopped for a moment, as if something had just occurred to her. But after a second, she went ahead and ate the whole thing.

“Hmm,” she said. “It tastes like soy sauce.”

“Well, yeah.”

We each took back our own sauce dishes and continued to eat in silence for a while. When we were almost finished, I brought up what I’d been thinking about on our way home.

“Hey, Ayase. About our birthdays…”

Ayase looked up. “Hmm? You mean how we agreed to celebrate on the day?”

“Yeah. I was thinking of what to get you. Is there anything you want?”

“Oh, I was going to ask you that, too.”

So she’d had the same thought.

I was once again reminded of how alike we were when it came to things like this. We’d both figured that the other wouldn’t be happy if we gave them something they didn’t want or need. So we agreed to go over what we wanted first instead of buying something at random and hoping the other person liked it.

“Let’s decide on the price, too,” said Ayase. “We should keep it relatively inexpensive.”

“Makes sense. You’re trying to save, after all.”

“So, Asamura. Is there anything you want?”

Now that she’d brought it up, I was blanking. But just like when Ayase asked me what I wanted to eat, anything wasn’t going to work here. I was about to request some more time to think, when she continued, “How about a neck warmer?”

“Oh, you’re thinking about our walk home.”

She’d mentioned then that my neck looked cold, and I’d said a scarf would be dangerous. Maybe she’d been considering giving me a scarf. A neck warmer wasn’t too expensive, and it was perfect when you thought about our criteria.

“What do you want, Ayase?” I asked.

She gave me an answer right away. “A nice soap to use when I take a bath.”

“A nice soap?”

Her answer surprised me. When I first started thinking about what to buy her, I’d done some research. The information I’d found suggested that you should give the person you like something they can keep.

“But if we give each other gifts like that year after year, we’ll be up to our necks in them. And if a gift broke and we had to get rid of it, we’d feel bad throwing it away, right? I think it’s better to have something that’s meant to be used up from the start.”

It was very typical of Ayase to think about throwing out a present before she even received it. It might sound cold, but something else about her reply stood out even more to me: Her opinion assumed we’d be exchanging gifts for a long, long time.

She wasn’t planning to make this a one-off event. She was concerned precisely because she intended to keep doing this with me for years to come.

“Okay, then. This year, I’ll get you a nice soap.”

Ayase smiled happily, understanding exactly what I meant.

December 11 (Friday)—Saki Ayase

After a brief afternoon homeroom session, our teacher left the classroom, and all the students relaxed.

It was still early days, but everyone was starting to talk about their Christmas plans. Amid the festive atmosphere, I put all my exam answer sheets together and tapped the bundle against the desk. My total score was 815—a satisfactory result.

“Hey, Saki!” Maaya called out as she strolled over to my desk. “Oh, I can tell by the look on your face—you must have received excellent marks, my lord!”

“My lord…? Have you been watching too much historical anime or something?”

“They call me the Samurai of Failing Grades.”

“Sounds like a guy who’s not long for this world.”

“Would it be cooler if I played a lone samurai without a master?”

“You’d probably be killed either way. Let’s drop this gag, okay?”

“Urk. In that case, I’ll have to decide myself…”

“Like I said, you’d be killed either way. Now drop it.”

I wasn’t sure why she was so hung up on this, but I figured her logic was beyond me and decided to just ignore it.

“Ooh, Saki, you’re as cold as ever. It’s already the middle of December; can’t you be a little friendlier? We could huddle together for warmth. I’d love to see you all snug!”

“Don’t try to use me as your heating pad. Anyway, what did you get?” I was talking about her exam score, of course.

“801! A number with no climax, resolution, or meaning!”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’ll give you a piece of candy for being a good girl who doesn’t get the joke.”

“Sure.”

Maaya mimed giving me an invisible piece of candy, and I stuck out my palm and pretended to take it.

“I’m impressed, Saki! I’ll have to thank Asamura.”

“What does Asamura have to do with this?”

Maaya grinned. I realized too late that she’d purposely shifted the conversation. If I pushed back here, she’d just tease me, so I closed my mouth tight and endured.

“And what about you, Saki? How did you do?”

“815.”

“Aha! No wonder you’re looking smug. That’s great.”

“I’m not…,” I said, then paused.

Maybe I was looking smug. I had the feeling she was right; I could tell there was a smile on my face. I sounded a little more excited than usual, too.

That was when I noticed the buzz around me. I could hear people saying things like “Ayase’s kind of different today” and “I’ve never seen her smile before.”

That has to be a joke. I know I’ve smiled before. Right?

“Do people really think I’m acting that unusual?”

“Your attitude today is as rare as a metal slime.”

“I have no idea how rare that is.”

“People see you as a cool beauty. You’re not that cool, though, if you ask me. You just don’t care if other people like you. But you do care about what they think of you.”

Maaya’s words might sound harsh, but she was right. More than what my classmates were saying, what surprised me was their friendly tone of voice.

“A 14-point difference, huh?” said Maaya. “I was so close. Next time, I won’t lose!”

“Sure.”

“Dammit. Having you act so smug after a single win makes me doubly frustrated!”

“I’m not acting smug.”

“Anyway, Saki.”

Huh?

“Your birthday’s coming up, isn’t it?”

“Oh yeah. So?”

The frustration instantly disappeared from Maaya’s face, and her voice grew excited. It was tough keeping up as she switched topics again and again.

“I want to give you a present. What should I get, huh?”

“You don’t have to.”

“But I do. It’ll bother me if I don’t. I want to get you something.”

“Well, okay then.”

“Does that mean Asamura’s birthday is coming up, too? You said they weren’t far apart, right?”

“His is a week before mine.”

“His!”

“It’s just a pronoun. Please don’t pronounce it like it has some special meaning.”

I really didn’t mean anything by it. Honest.

“Oh? A week before yours? That means…”

“It’s on the thirteenth.”

“That’s the day after tomorrow! Hey, why didn’t you tell me?!”

“Huh? Uh…sorry, I guess.”

“That puts it on the weekend, like yours. Guess I can’t invite someone else’s boyfriend out on a Sunday and give him a present…”

“Like I keep telling you, Asamura is my—”

“If he’s only your brother, does that make it okay for me to invite him out on a Sunday?”

“…No, it doesn’t.”

I didn’t elaborate, despite Maaya’s smirk. I’d rather she just assume I had a bit of a brother complex.

“Okay, then how about this? I’ll have you give him my present.”

Asamura would probably tell her she didn’t need to go to the trouble. But knowing Maaya, she’d do it anyway. Not out of a sense of obligation or for appearance’s sake, of course. As she’d said to me, she just wanted to. Because I understood that, I couldn’t bring myself to keep discouraging her.

“You can take your time picking something out. Our parents are lumping both our birthdays in with Christmas on the twenty-fourth anyway.”

“A combined birthday party with your big brother!”

“Would you quit it already?”

“A family celebration. That’s lovely! But I guess that means we can’t meet up and wish each other a Merry Christmas…”

“You really don’t need to. Besides, aren’t you going to throw a party with our classmates or something?”

“Actually, I have plans that day…”

I guess no party, then.

“Come on, Saki. The only thing a Christmas party would do is smoke out all the people who are dating. I’m being considerate here! Mwa-ha-ha!”

Huh? “You are?”

“Yeah! We’re in high school now. Lots of people are in special relationships…right?”

…What was that pause for?

Could Maaya be in a special relationship, too? Maybe that was what she was doing on Christmas. Did she have a boyfriend she hadn’t told me about? Someone she couldn’t tell me about?

“Special relationships, huh…?”

“Interested?” She peered into my face, and I quickly shook my head. No way. “Well, Saki-poo, I guess it’s still too early for you.”

“Why do you have to make it sound like you’re older and wiser?”

She grinned again, and I realized what she was doing. I almost yelped.

These were leading questions. She wasn’t asking me anything suspicious, per se. But with a single expression, she’d almost made me slip up. I had to watch out for Maaya Narasaka. She was great at making other people reveal all their secrets while giving away nothing about herself.

Wait, what am I thinking?

I’d just assumed that Maaya would tell me if she had someone special. But if she wouldn’t even confide in me, maybe it was normal to keep things like that to yourself. I still didn’t know if she was really seeing anyone, of course.

Work was incredibly busy, and the hours went by in a flash.

Unusually, Yomiuri was absent, and the rest of us had to pick up the slack. I’d been so busy at the register that I couldn’t remember much of what happened.

At some point, I looked up, and I was walking along a street lined with trees done up in Christmas lights. The air was full of seasonal music, mixed in with shopworkers calling out into the street about special sales.

Oh, right. It’s almost Christmas.

Asamura was walking beside me, matching my pace as he pushed his bicycle. Recently, we’d started walking home together after work more regularly. His bare hands as he held the handlebars looked cold.

When I asked him why he wasn’t wearing gloves, he said he felt like his hands might slip. He seemed to feel it was safer that way but quickly contradicted himself, mentioning that helmets and gloves might soon be required by our school.

“All the more reason to wear them,” I said. He replied that he’d look into it. “You aren’t wearing a scarf, either. Aren’t you cold?” I pressed. I wasn’t just concerned that his neck was cold—I’d been wondering for a while if he even had one. Scarves were classic winter gifts, right?

He replied that scarves were even more dangerous than gloves when you were riding a bike, and I gasped. He might have a point…

Still, I didn’t want his fingers to freeze, so I put my hand on top of his. I was wearing a glove, so our skin wasn’t touching, but I hoped it would help block the chilly wind.

Before I knew it, we’d turned off the main road onto a narrow side street. The crowds had thinned, and there were fewer streetlights. Maybe that was why I’d been so bold—because no one was looking.

I’d only put my hand on his, but my heart was pounding. I worried he could hear my heartbeat through the palm of my hand, but another part of me wanted him to notice.

“How did you do on your exams?” he asked suddenly, and my heart skipped a beat.

“Oh, um, my total was 815.”

“Wow.”

He sounded impressed, but it turned out he’d gotten 819. Our scores were really close, and I knew it didn’t matter whose was higher. But before I knew it, the words were out of my mouth.

“You beat me again…”

Why was I so determined not to let him outdo me? I was puzzled by my own competitiveness.

I must have sounded pretty frustrated, because Asamura started saying he’d only scored well because he was going to prep school. He even praised how much I’d improved in Modern Japanese and said I’d do better than him if I went, too.

“I don’t intend to go to prep school,” I said.

“I guess it is pretty expensive.”

That was true, too. But the real reason I didn’t want to go was that I was afraid to show my own weakness. I was scared that if I started relying on Asamura, I’d keep doing it indefinitely. Of course, if I kept that up, I’d never learn how to rely on others. Like he’d said, that was a skill, too.

When he offered to help me get set up if I ever changed my mind, I started to feel guilty. It was true that prep school was expensive, and I was reluctant to rely on others. But there was another reason, too—maybe the biggest one, if I was being honest. If I spent too much time around Asamura, I’d start watching him instead of paying attention.

Not that I could ever tell him. I mean, how embarrassing was that?

When our apartment finally came into view, my thoughts switched back to normal mode, and I started wondering what to do about dinner.

I hadn’t had any time before work to stop by the apartment and start preparing, and now it was getting late. I was thinking about how to put something together quickly when we stepped inside…and found that Dad had bought a premade meal. There were fried dumplings, sweet-and-sour pork, and shredded beef with green peppers.

I was so grateful. Maybe Mom had asked him to pick up food on his way home. But I wouldn’t be surprised if this was Dad’s own idea. He was Asamura’s father, after all.

I heated the food and dished it onto plates while Asamura got the rice and soup ready.

Once it was all ready, we dug in.

After we started eating, Asamura and I had a slight disagreement about our choice of dipping sauce for the fried dumplings. We took turns trying each other’s sauce, but I just couldn’t understand the appeal of using soy sauce. Come to think of it, Asamura also liked soy sauce on his fried eggs.

Right as I was about to try a fried dumpling dipped in Asamura’s sauce, it hit me. Wasn’t this…an indirect kiss? To be honest, it probably didn’t even qualify as indirect, but it still affected me. I felt like a little kid.

After that, we ate in silence. When that begun to feel awkward, Asamura brought up the subject of birthday gifts. It was a welcome change of topic.

He looked surprised when I said I was fine receiving something I could use up. But the way I saw it, if our relationship continued, we wouldn’t need things to remember each other by. Wasn’t it enough to keep making more memories together year after year? That seemed a lot nicer to me than an expensive present.

Maybe I thought like that because of my experiences with my birth father. He was always particular about things and appearances.

When I was young, he’d still been kind to us, and he often gave gifts to my mother and me. He even moved his company’s office into an impressive building, saying it was for the sake of his employees. Material possessions were important to him. But after he changed, he’d say things like “You dare to complain when you’re living off the things I bought you?”

If you asked me, he let things tie him down.

And that was why I preferred a gift that wouldn’t last.

That was half the reason anyway. As for the other half…

I still remembered watching my mother from behind when my birth father left us. Her shoulders were slumped and trembling, but she held back her tears, even as she turned around and embraced me. She was trying to keep me from feeling uneasy, but I could still sense her sorrow.

I have a hard time believing my emotions and relationships will last forever. If what I have with Asamura comes to an end one day, seeing all the presents he gave me would only make me sad. So I thought I’d prefer something that would disappear.

It was just like me to think about a present becoming a sad memory before I’d even received it.

December 13 (Sunday)—Yuuta Asamura

Saturday passed by uneventfully.

Sunday was my birthday, but the world wasn’t about to take a day off to commemorate some high school student’s birth, so I went to prep school in the morning as usual.

After the first class was over, it was time for a short break. I headed to the vending machines in the lounge, thinking I’d have a cup of coffee. The lounge was about one-third the size of a classroom, with six tables surrounded by folding chairs, and it was located at the end of the hallway.

I chose a hot coffee with milk but no sugar, then blew on it to cool it off as I looked for an available seat.

That was when I saw a familiar face—Kaho Fujinami. She was sitting right across from the only free chair. As I sat down, she looked up, and our eyes met.

“Good morning,” she said. Her voice was low and muffled.

“Good morning. What’s the matter? Do you have a cold?”

The tall girl was wearing a white face mask.

“I wouldn’t come to prep school if I had a cold,” she said. “This is just a precaution. When the air gets dry in winter, it’s easier to catch colds and infections. You have to be careful.”

“Oh, I see.”

“My aunt always tells me to wear a mask in winter.”

I nodded.

Her “aunt” was her current guardian. After Kaho’s parents passed away, she’d had trouble getting along with her remaining relatives, and the woman she now called her aunt had taken her in.

“But sometimes, even a mask can’t keep you from getting sick,” she admitted.

“They say making a habit of stuff like that is what makes it effective, so I think it’s probably a good idea to keep doing it. Back when I was little, I used to wash my hands and gargle a lot.”

“Oh? Only when you were little?”

“I caught a cold once and couldn’t eat my birthday cake, so I swore I’d never let it happen again.”

“Oh, so your birthday is in winter. Is it coming up soon?”

“Actually, it’s today,” I said, shrugging.

“I see.”

Fujinami stood up and walked over to the vending machine without a word. She pulled some change from out of her pocket and bought a can of hot corn soup.

I watched her blankly, wondering if she was hungry. But when she returned to the table, she put the can down in front of me.

“Your birthday present. Maybe you don’t want it when you’re drinking coffee, but I hope you don’t mind.”

“Huh?”

“Perhaps it’s a bit cheap, too.”

“Oh, no. I’m grateful. It’s just…” I hadn’t been expecting to receive anything, so it came as a bit of a surprise. “I mean, um, thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. And you don’t need to thank me; it’s cheap, and you’ll soon be done with it. I’ll leave the mementos to your girlfriend.”

I chuckled.

“Okay, then. I’m off,” she said and stood up.

As I watched Fujinami turn around and walk away, I picked up the can, held it at eye level, and bowed toward her retreating figure.

She’d said it was nothing special, but it felt nice to have someone wish me a happy birthday.

I had work that evening.

I arrived at the bookstore twenty minutes before my shift and spent the extra time taking a quick look around the sales floor, still holding my sports bag in my arms.

There were a lot of customers again today. I was making a mental note of the number of magazines piled up on the display shelf when someone patted me on the back.

“Hey, kiddo.”

I turned around and saw Yomiuri with her long, lustrous black hair.

“Oh, hi.”

“Heya. I haven’t seen you for donkey’s years!”

“…I beg your pardon…?”

What was she talking about?

“It means—”

“I know what it means,” I interrupted. “Donkey’s years means ‘a really long time,’ right?”

“Yes! I’m surprised you know.”

“Well, it’s not something you hear a lot. You’re the first person I’ve ever heard say it in the wild. Anyway, how are you? Feeling better?”

I stepped aside to avoid blocking the aisle, and Yomiuri gestured toward the back of the store and began walking. She probably meant for me to come along so we wouldn’t be in the way.

I nodded to indicate I understood, then followed.

“I’m all better now,” she said. “But it feels like I was sick for ages. Were you worried about me?”

“You are my senior coworker. I’m glad you’re doing better.”

“I was mostly better the day before yesterday, but I took off another day just to make sure I didn’t get anyone else sick.”

“So you had a cold?”

“Yep! My voice was hoarse, and I had a fever. Thirty-nine degrees Celsius.”

“Oof. That sounds miserable.”

“It completely laid me out. Guess I should have laid out an offering at the shrine next door, heh-heh. Maybe the local god would’ve saved me.”

It seemed Yomiuri was back in top form. She was even making stupid puns again. A full recovery.

We talked briefly about this and that as we made our way to the office in the back. I knocked, but the room was empty.

“And I’d been so careful not to catch a cold, too. I guess I shouldn’t have gone to that karaoke marathon last weekend. But I hadn’t met up with my high school friends in so long, you know?”

“Did you go to a reunion?”

“A girl from my old club is getting married next month.”

“What?!” I croaked.

“Who would have thought that Mao, who everyone said would be the last one to tie the knot, would beat me to it? She said she and her man had promised to get married once she finished vocational school. It got delayed another six months in the end. She was furious!”

“Oh, I see. Congratulations, I guess?”

“I’m not the one getting married.”

“I know, but still.”

What else was I supposed to say? If she was a former classmate of Yomiuri’s, then she would be a legal adult. Most people waited a little longer these days, but it wasn’t unheard of…

“She was suffering from some prewedding anxiety, so we all went to sing our hearts out and listen to her vent. Anyway, you’d better watch out.”

“Huh.”

It all sounded so far removed from my own life that I wasn’t even sure what she expected me to watch out for.

“Even in modern times, there are all kinds of problems that crop up when two people enter into a social partnership.”

“I guess so.”

“Let me tell you something, kiddo. All marriages boil down to Romeo and Juliet.”

“Two people in conflict coming together, you mean…?”

“There’s a gulf between the Capulets, who put sauce on their fried eggs, and the Montagues, who prefer salt and pepper. A gulf too wide to be crossed.”

“Won’t Shakespeare get mad at you for butchering his work like that?”

“Differences in values can lead to conflict and tragedy. It’s just too sad. By the way, which one are you?”

“If you’re talking about fried eggs, I like soy sauce.”

“Oh, a third faction. Incidentally, I prefer ketchup. Whatever will I do if your soy sauce–faction parents reject my marriage proposal? O Romeo, wherefore art thou a soy sauce lover? Toss that stuff away right now. Actually, that sounds kind of wasteful. We’d better cancel the wedding instead.”

“Well, I’ve realized at last that I have no idea what you’re talking about. I surrender. Anyway, did you have something to say to me?” She’d gotten me to follow her to the back of the store, so she must have had some reason.

“Oh, right. It’s your birthday today, isn’t it?” She placed a paper bag down on the table.

“Well, yeah… How did you know?”

“Saki told me. Her birthday’s next week, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll bring Saki’s later. Here.” She pulled something out of the bag—a thick paper sack. I figured it was full of books.

I shot her a questioning look, and she nodded. I opened the bag.

“Oh… Wow…”

The books looked positively ancient. She must have bought them at a used bookstore. There was Plato’s Apology, Descartes’s Discourse on the Method, Camus’s The Myth of Sisyphus, Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason… I even saw Thus Spoke Zarathustra by Nietzsche.

“This…is amazing.”

“It’s a selection of philosophy books recommended by Shiori Yomiuri. I didn’t give much thought to historical period or logical progression, so it’s not very systematic. You’ll find a lot of holes.”

“It’s fine. It’s tough for a high school student to buy books like these myself. They’re expensive, and I’m not sure I could understand them even if I could afford to buy them. I’ve glanced through a few at the library before, though.”

“I also thought about getting you a sex toy, but I was afraid I might get arrested for providing restricted goods to a minor and chickened out.”

“I’m glad you got me the philosophy books instead.”

“Sorry for being boring.”

I wished she wouldn’t apologize with such a solemn look on her face. It made me think she might have been serious about the sex toy. The temperature gap between those two gift options was enough to make me catch a cold.

“Thank you,” I said at last. I felt especially happy, maybe because the gift had been a surprise, just like Fujinami’s corn soup.

I thought I’d be happier with a present if I had the chance to coordinate beforehand, but receiving one I didn’t expect was pretty nice, too.

A lot of the books in the sack were old, so I suspected the text would be a challenge. But being a book addict, I was looking forward to sinking my teeth into them. I was sure I’d get plenty of hours of reading out of the selection.

When I finished my shift and got home, Akiko was out working at the bar, but Dad was still awake. Had he and Ayase waited up for me? Ayase had made an extravagant dinner. I wasn’t sure if it was for my birthday or if she’d simply had more time on her hands because it was Sunday. We had roast beef with salad and potato soup.

“Dinner looks particularly lovely today,” remarked Dad as he took a seat. “Oh, that’s right. It’s Yuuta’s birthday.”

“You remembered,” I said, surprised.

Dad looked a little disappointed. “Of course I did.”

“Since we planned to celebrate Ayase’s and my birthdays together on Christmas, I thought it might slip your mind until the twenty-fourth.”

“Well, maybe I wouldn’t have remembered if Saki hadn’t prepared a birthday feast for you.”

“So you did forget!”

“Ha-ha-ha!”

“Think you can laugh your way out of this?”

He kept laughing, but I wasn’t really mad. We often had exchanges like this.

“Okay, guys.” Ayase smiled wryly and handed me a steaming hot bowl of rice.

I accepted it and set out chopsticks for three on the table. Then I poured tea for everyone and brought out plates.

Dad was responsible for wiping down the table. He’d naturally started doing it after Akiko and Ayase moved in. In the past, he and I had never wiped down the table before we ate. We’d only clean up if something spilled.

Since she worked as a bartender, Akiko had a habit of always keeping the table clean. I suspected she’d influenced Ayase, and now Dad and I were being influenced by the two of them.

We all sat down and began eating.

Dad took a bite of roast beef and exclaimed, “It’s delicious! Saki, you really are a fabulous cook.”

“Dad, didn’t you say the same thing yesterday?” I retorted.

“I did, and I’ll keep saying it, because Saki’s cooking is fantastic!”

I wondered if this was what you called a doting parent.

As usual, Ayase dismissed the compliment, looking a little embarrassed. According to her, she’d simply used the rice cooker to make the roast beef.

“The rice cooker?” I asked.

“Yeah. You can make puddings and pancakes with a rice cooker, too. These days, they’re pretty versatile.”

“Really? Wow.”

I’d made rice with meat and vegetables in the rice cooker before, but I never dreamed you could use it for so many different things.

The roast beef had cooked evenly and had a wonderful pink color on the inside. It was nice and tender, and when I bit into it, the juices filled my mouth. The sweet sauce, along with the flavor of onions and soy sauce, blended perfectly with the rice, and…

“I could keep eating this forever.”

“Thanks,” said Ayase, smiling. “In that case, it was worth the effort.”

Did that mean she’d done all this for my birthday? At the thought, I felt a twinge of joy. Realizing I’d stopped moving my chopsticks, I hurried to shovel down the rest of the rice in my bowl.

“I’m having seconds,” I said, standing up to get more rice. I was mostly just trying to hide my embarrassment.

After dinner, Dad went to fill the bathtub, leaving Ayase and me to do the dishes.

“Come to my room later,” she said, whispering in my ear.

My heart leaped.

Ayase began to silently move her lips, forming the words “Your present.”

I might not be a lip-reader, but I understood right away.

Once I was sure Dad was in the bath, I went to Ayase’s room and knocked on her door.

She opened it and moved aside, and I shuffled in. She’d been waiting for me.

“Okay,” she said. “First, I have something for you from Maaya.”

“…You mean a present? For me? Really?”

She nodded.

This was my fourth surprise. I never imagined that Maru, Fujinami, Yomiuri, and now Narasaka would all be giving me birthday presents.

“This one is from Maaya.” She handed me a gift-wrapped book.

Four people had surprised me with gifts, and three of the four had given me books…

“…Do I seem like that much of a book nerd to everyone?”

“Huh? But it’s true, isn’t it?” she asked with a straight face.

I smiled wryly at that, then began tearing off the wrapping. The title of the book was The Seven Laws for Winning Your True Love’s Heart. Something was wedged between two pages. It almost fell out, but I pressed it back into place. It was a thick card with “Happy Birthday” written inside, along with a handwritten message from Narasaka.

Read this and win Saki’s heart.♡

I must have made a strange face.

“Huh? What’s the matter?” asked Ayase.

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

I closed the book and covered it back up with wrapping paper.

What on earth was she getting at? Geez. I’ll just pretend I didn’t see it.

“And this one’s from me.” Ayase handed me her present next.

It was wrapped neatly in red paper. I opened it and saw that it was a neck warmer, just as she had promised. It was made of soft, fluffy material that felt nice against my skin. She said she chose a bright color so I would be more visible to motorists while riding my bike home at night.

It wasn’t a surprise, but I was happy all the same.

“Happy birthday,” she said.

“Thanks.”

“Though we’ll have to wait till Christmas for the cake and candles.”

“True, but the same goes for you. We’ll celebrate as a family with our parents.”

“Yeah.”

A week later, it would be my turn to give Ayase a gift. Her birthday would fall on Sunday, too…

Thinking over it again, I realized we’d overlooked something when we came up with our plan. We were sneaking around to give each other gifts, but…

“Siblings give each other presents, don’t they? So maybe it’s okay to do it out in the open. What do you think?”

“It’s hard to know where to draw the line. But it’d be nice not to have to worry so much.”

That gave me an idea.

“How about we adjust our shifts at work so we can get off early and go out to dinner?”

“What? …Dinner?” Ayase frowned for a second, then looked me in the eye. “I guess our birthdays only come once a year.”

“I’ll look for a restaurant.”

“Okay. Let’s do it.”

That was when Dad called out, “I’m out of the bath!”

I froze for a moment, but then I heard him close his bedroom door, and the house went quiet again.

I told Ayase I’d text her with more details later and then left her room.

December 13 (Sunday)—Saki Ayase

I looked at the clock on my bedside table. It was just before midnight.

I’d finished preparing for the next day, taken my bath, and been about to settle in for the night when I received a message from Maaya. It was timed so perfectly, I started to wonder if she’d been watching me. But I knew why she’d messaged me now. First, she had to put her brothers to bed and finish studying, then she liked to watch some late-night anime. By the time she was done, it was always quite late.

What am I going to do with her?

I set my phone on speaker mode.

“Saki. Did you give Asamura my present?”

Is that really why she called?

“Yeah, I did.”

“Great! How did he react?”

“How…? He made a funny face. I wonder why.”

“I see, I see. Good. Hee-hee.”

Why was she chuckling? She had to be up to something.

“It was a book, wasn’t it?”

Based on the shape and weight, it had to have been.

“Yep. Big Brother Asamura loves books, right?”

Why did she sound so happy? I could practically hear her grinning. Besides, Asamura was my brother, not hers. Why was she always calling him Big Brother? I was starting to feel like they were siblings and I was just their friend.

“So it was just a book? Nothing weird?”

“Of course! A really useful book sure to help any young man in a pinch.”

That seemed like a lie. But she wasn’t the only one who could scheme.

“Sounds interesting. I think I’ll ask him to lend it to me when he’s finished reading it.”

“No. Don’t!”

Her response came at the speed of light or maybe even faster.

…I’ll have to question her tomorrow.

“Hey, what about you, Saki? What did you give him?”

I sighed as Maaya blatantly changed the topic. “A neck warmer.”

I told her we’d discussed what we both wanted and decided everything beforehand. I thought that was a good, worthwhile approach. After all, if you got something you didn’t want or like, it would just go to waste.

But Maaya seemed surprised. “What?! I can’t believe it!”

I’d set the volume on my phone pretty low, but her voice was so loud, it rattled my eardrums.

“Wh-what can’t you believe?” Her surprise shocked me in turn.

“That’s so boring! No sophistication, no delight, no nothing!”

“What’s wrong with getting what the other person wants?”

“That’s not the issue here, Saki-loo!”

“Wasn’t my nickname supposed to be Saki-poo?”

“Maybe I’ll start calling you Saki-moo, like a cow.”

“Please don’t.”

“Anyway, enough of that! Stop changing the subject!”

You’re the one who changed it.

“As I was saying, the surprise is the best part of a present!” she said, sounding exasperated.

Surprise, huh?

Personally, I thought it was unlikely that a surprise gift would benefit the recipient. Wasn’t it a bit arrogant to assume you knew what someone wanted? In the end, we’re all our own people.

But Maaya brushed off my logic. According to her, the surprise itself filled the other person with joy and lifted their spirits.

“You can think about usefulness and benefits the rest of the year!”

“What do you mean?”

“You can talk about what you want and get each other useful gifts all year round. But events like birthdays are different!”

“But aren’t birthdays for giving gifts?”

“A predictable item will be forgotten, but people remember gifts that surprised them. You’ve gotta entertain them. Defy their expectations and get their heart pumping!”

“I—I see. Is that how it is?”

As usual, Maaya had a novel way of explaining her point. She often compared things to anime, games, and manga, which I didn’t know anything about, making it difficult for me to judge the validity of her claims. But that meant I’d keep thinking about what she’d said and interrogating her until I was able to digest it.

I got the feeling that tenaciousness often put people off. When something didn’t make sense to me, I couldn’t help but ask about it.

Surprise can be good, huh?

If Maaya felt that strongly about it, I probably ought to give it some thought. That said, what was done was done. If surprises were that important, I’d just have to try again next year. In the meantime, I’d check in with Asamura and ask him how he felt about it.

After that, Maaya gave a whole presentation about the importance of surprises.

Soon, my eyelids began to droop, and the conversation petered out. We said good night and ended the call, then I lay down to sleep.

Hugging my pillow to my chest, I thought back over our conversation.

If surprises really were that important, I wished she would have told me earlier.

December 19 (Saturday)—Yuuta Asamura

The digital clock on my bedside table read six thirty AM.

I shifted slightly, shivering as the cold morning air seeped under my duvet. It was still dark outside. We were approaching the winter solstice, and it would be another fifteen minutes before sunrise.

The winter solstice is the day when the sun is at its lowest as it peaks in the south. It peeps out from the east, wanders across the sky near the ground, then slips back below the horizon.

Because of that, the night was long, and the dawn still distant.

I hated getting up while it was dark. Mumbling to myself under the covers, I considered my plans for the day.

The following day would mark a week since my birthday. This time, we’d be celebrating Ayase’s.

She’d asked for a nice soap to use in the bath as her present. I did some research and found a store right here in Shibuya that specialized in such items, and I decided to buy her something fancy from there.

I was busy with prep school and my part-time job and didn’t have a lot of time to go shopping, but since the soap shop was located close to my prep school, I decided to head there between lectures today. I worked out a schedule in my mind.

Lately, I’d been considering something else as well.

After receiving unexpected gifts from so many people and discovering how enjoyable they could be, I’d begun to consider adding something like that to my own gift. According to The Seven Laws for Winning Your True Love’s Heart, surprises spiced up a person’s love life, though I still wasn’t sure if I should believe what the book said.

Of course, I didn’t want a surprise that would annoy her. I wanted something that would give her a pleasant thrill—something that wasn’t just meant to satisfy me.

Maybe I should give her the present I promised but with some unexpected extra touch…

Telling myself it was my day off, I lay idly in bed, thinking things over. After a while, however, an electronic beep urged me to get up, and I boldly pushed off the covers.

The sun was already fully up. I got dressed and went out into the living room. Dad was off today, and Akiko had just returned from work. The two of them were relaxing on the sofa. There was no sign of Ayase.

“Saki already ate,” said Akiko. “She’s in her room.”

I stopped her from getting up, saying I could manage breakfast on my own. The food was already set out on the table, waiting for me. All that was missing was the rice, still in the cooker, and the miso soup in the pot on the stove.

I warmed up the soup and spooned some rice into a bowl. The main dish was pan-fried salmon meunière. I peeled off the aluminum foil to reveal the pink flesh, which was still slightly warm. Just as I was reaching for the soy sauce, however, I remembered my conversation with Ayase the night before, when we were eating our fried dumplings.

I sampled the salmon. It’s sweet. That was the first thing I noticed. But the sweetness didn’t just come from the butter. It was seasoned with only salt and pepper, and the lemon wedge placed on top gave it a slight sour note I could just taste on the tip of my tongue. I wondered if the lighter seasoning made it easier to distinguish the flavors.

I’d thought I was used to eating salmon, but I’d never tasted it like this. It was delicious, but that also frustrated me a little. I was left with a strange feeling.

Ayase and Akiko’s policy seemed to be to use a light amount of salt and pepper on their food, then leave various other seasonings on a rack at the center of table. That way, each person could change the flavor as they liked.

This was another way we coordinated and compromised. Neither side of our family forced their preferences on the other.

I reached for the soy sauce on the rack and drizzled it onto a small dish, then dipped my second bite of salmon in it. It tasted the way it usually did. This is good, too.

“Hmm. What does this mean…?”

Maybe I just like soy sauce.

It was Saturday morning, and I was already pondering the philosophical nature of breakfast seasonings.

“…Yuuta?”

My swirling thoughts were interrupted by a voice. Dad had called my name. I left the realm of philosophy and turned toward the living room.

“Sorry, did you say something?”

“Oh, were you lost in thought?”

“Well… Yeah, a little. What is it?”

If I told him I was thinking deeply about the nature of salt and pepper versus soy sauce, he probably wouldn’t know what to say.

“I’d like us to visit my hometown again this year. I hope that’s all right with you.”

“Sure… I don’t mind.”

I reflexively looked at Akiko, but my stepmother nodded with a smile. They must have discussed it ahead of time.

“I’ve already told Saki. You’re the last one to hear, Yuuta. Are you sure you don’t have plans?”

“Oh, no, I’m good,” I said, quickly nodding.

Dad was born and raised in Nagano. He’d gone to college in Tokyo and remained here ever since. His family back in Nagano had a tradition of gathering together around New Year’s, and I’d gone along most years since I was a kid.

Back when I was in elementary school, my birth mother would come, too. But even when she did, she never seemed to open up to Dad’s relatives. She’d often complain about them on the train ride home, which made me uncomfortable. I got along decently with my cousins, and her displeasure would cast a shadow over the many fun memories I’d just made.

“Great. We can all go together, then,” Akiko said, smiling brightly. That must mean Ayase had agreed as well.

Then something occurred to me. “Don’t you want to see your own family?”

These days, the old custom of visiting your family home during Obon and New Year’s was beginning to die out in Japan. But I had a feeling that parents still wanted to see their children’s faces at least once a year, even if they lived far away.

Akiko flashed me a wry smile. “My relatives like to do as they please, so we don’t usually hold gatherings or anything. But I might still go back next year during Obon.”

Akiko and Dad had just started their new life together, and she said they’d been too busy to think about visiting her folks this year.

“But I’m finally over the busy stretch at work,” Dad declared. “I should be able to take it easy come New Year’s.”

Akiko added, “I was able to take time off work from the twenty-ninth of December through the fifth of January.”

Since she worked at a bar in Shibuya, I figured customers would be coming throughout the holidays, but maybe I was wrong.

“I’m always working,” she said, “so the least they can do is let me take off over the holidays once in a while.”

Akiko seemed to have read my mind. I guess my thoughts had been written all over my face.

“I’m glad to hear that,” I replied.

Dad worked overtime a lot when his job got busy, but Akiko had it tough, too, with her irregular nighttime shifts. And because bars catered to people during their free time, there was no guarantee she’d get the weekends off.

To be honest, I wanted her to get plenty of rest. But it seemed Akiko was the type who, as soon as she got a break at work, would start doing chores around the house.

“I think I’ll take over for Saki during winter break and cook you kids all your favorite dishes,” she said.

“Rather than have her mom stuck in the kitchen, I think Ayase would prefer that you catch up on your rest. Besides, I can help with meals.”

“…Mom…”

“Huh?”

I’d only meant mom as in Ayase’s mom. But when I saw the happy look on Akiko’s face, I couldn’t bring myself to correct her. There was no need to anyway, so I swallowed the rest of my words.

“I agree with Yuuta,” Dad said. “You should relax and do what you want during your time off. The children are getting older; you don’t need to coddle them. Besides, you’re always taking every chance you get to cook, even when you’re working.”

“Huh? Y-you think so?”

“Yeah. The casserole you made last week was heavenly.”

“Then I’ll make it again.”

“Thanks,” Dad said, smiling. Akiko blushed.

Okay, lovebirds, I thought, chuckling to myself.

“Oh yeah.” Akiko’s words from a moment ago had stuck in my mind, nagging at me. “What does Ayase like to eat?”

Akiko turned to look at me. “You mean her favorite food?”

“Yes. You said something a moment ago about cooking all our favorite dishes.”

“Well,” Akiko began, putting a finger to her chin and looking up at the ceiling. “Maybe it’s because I was too busy working to cook fancy foods when she was young, but I think she likes things that require more time and effort, like cabbage rolls and beef stew.”

Aha. So she likes things like stews.

“But I think beef stew is one of the few dishes she prefers to eat at a restaurant.”

“Oh, really?”

That came as a surprise. Ayase had never struck me as the type who liked to eat out.

“When she was young, there was a Western-style restaurant in our neighborhood that served delicious food. She really loved their beef stew.”

“I see.”

“I tried to make it for her at home, but I couldn’t replicate the flavor. Maybe it was just impossible with the beef from the supermarket,” she said, sounding a little mystified. “Oh, come to think of it, you two are eating out tomorrow after work, right?”

“Yes. We’re going with some coworkers.”

I’d already told Akiko and Dad about our plans. If we stayed out late without telling them in advance, they were sure to worry. I’d lied a little, telling them we were having a get-together with some people from work. I felt guilty about it, but I told myself it was inevitable since we were trying to keep an even bigger secret from them. Maybe this was how lies wound up snowballing, and there was a lesson to be learned here, like in a children’s story.

“Are you wondering what Saki likes because it’s her birthday tomorrow?”

“Well, we’re not celebrating her birthday, but since we’re going out to eat, I thought I’d ask. Please don’t tell her, okay?”

“You’re a good brother.”

“Ha-ha-ha. It’s nothing special.”

That’s right—this was normal. It was natural for a brother to think about his sister’s birthday. It probably wasn’t that uncommon to go out to eat together, either.

In other words, my relationship with Ayase hadn’t yet gone far enough that we couldn’t excuse it as normal sibling behavior.

I quietly ate my now-cold salmon, then headed off to prep school like any other Saturday.

Once morning classes ended, we were released for a fifty-minute lunch break.

If I wanted to buy Ayase a present, I needed to do it now. If I hurried, I’d make back in time for afternoon classes without any problems.

I quickly packed my things and left the classroom. As I headed down the hallway toward the exit, I saw someone I knew heading toward me.

“Hmm? Are you going home already?” It was Fujinami, the tall girl who attended prep school with me.

“No, I’m just stepping out to run an errand.”

“Oh, I see. Well, then.”

We exchanged a short greeting and passed each other. As I left the building, the gray winter sky spread out before me. Wind blew across the road, making high-pitched whooshing sounds and swinging the power lines. I pulled up my collar and picked up my pace.

There were several shops specializing in bath-related goods near Shibuya Station. I didn’t have time to visit all of them, but I’d done some preliminary research on the internet and narrowed down my choices.

However, when I reached the first shop on my list, I froze.

This was going to be a lot harder than I’d thought. Maybe because it was the weekend, there were several female customers but no men. I’d assumed men and women used these kinds of products with the same frequency, but it seemed I’d been wrong.

The store, decorated in brown and white, was a little cramped. Still, it had a vast array of goods on display.

Ayase had said she wanted “a nice soap” to use when she took a bath.

I worked up my courage and stepped inside. It made me a little uncomfortable to be the only guy, but I reminded myself I was there to buy a gift for Ayase.

Now, where is the soap?

I couldn’t find a single package I recognized, and I started to panic.

When a clerk approached and asked, “What type of item are you looking for?” I almost had a heart attack.

I turned around and saw a woman in an apron. She was smiling, her head tilted slightly to one side.

“Oh, um…”

“Do you need some help?”

She was giving me the chance to say no, not pressuring me at all. As someone who worked in customer service myself, I could tell she was a pro. She knew some customers weren’t comfortable communicating with store clerks. In fact, I was one of them.

“Um, I’m looking for the soap section…”

“Right here,” she said, gesturing to a nearby display.

“Thank you.”

As soon as I nodded, she quickly strode away. She must have sensed my reluctance and refrained from offering any recommendations. Thank goodness.

When I heard the word soap, I thought of the stuff that came in simple, cheap square boxes. But the products lined up on the shelf in front of me now were something completely different.

In my mind, soap came in milky-white blocks, but these were colorful—ranging from transparent to marbled. They looked more like jewelry or ice cream. Each one was packaged in clear plastic, probably so customers could see inside. There were open samples available as well.

I picked one up and took a whiff. The one labeled “chamomile” smelled like a familiar herbal tea, and naturally, the lavender one had a lavender scent. Some of the others smelled like foods or various plants.

If I wanted to match the price of the neck warmer, I could buy two or three. But which should I choose…?

“What would Ayase like…?”

I didn’t know much about fragrances, and I had no idea which ones Ayase preferred. But I did remember the advice my best friend, Maru, once gave me.

“If you have a crush on someone, it’s important to let that person see that you’re making an effort.”

I had to put myself in the recipient’s shoes when buying them a gift. Of course, no matter how hard I tried, we’d always be different people, and it was impossible to understand another person completely. That was why Ayase and I had discussed what we wanted in advance.

But even though we both knew what to get—a neck warmer and soap—that was only the bare minimum. By itself, it still wasn’t sufficient.

Without thinking, I began to trace my collar with my left hand. I was wearing the neck warmer Ayase had given me one week earlier. I knew she hadn’t bought me just any old neck warmer. She’d probably thought about the color, pattern, and material. And I was sure she’d been thinking about me the whole time she was choosing it…

How? Well, consider the color. It resembled the shades I often wore. In fact, it seemed chosen to suit the clothes she’d picked out for me when we went shopping together the other day. Back then, she’d mentioned that plain colors were easier to match, and the neck warmer, too, was plain with no pattern.

It was obvious she’d spent time thinking about her choice. And so I needed to do the same. Not just any fancy soap would do.

I tried to recall the clothes and accessories she usually wore. In that case, maybe something in a bright color would suit her.

I started to reach for a flashy soap carved with a rose pattern when I stopped myself and thought a little more.

Ayase always said that fashion was her armor. When would she be using this soap, exactly? She was consistently the last to take a bath at night. First, she finished studying, then she’d relax and take a soak in the tub before bed. Did she really need to be cool and flashy at a time like that?

I glanced around the sales floor. Some of the soaps were carved with elaborate designs, but others were simple and closer to the classic rectangular shape.

After mulling it over, I bought three soaps: chamomile, lavender, and lemongrass. All of them were herbs well-known to help a person relax. I also bought something called a soap saver that was displayed next to them. At first, I’d thought it was a bag to store the soaps, but according to the instructions, you were meant to use it to work up a lather.

I took everything to the cash register, told the clerk they were gifts for someone’s birthday, and asked her to wrap them for me. The woman behind the counter smiled and said, “Of course.” It was the same clerk who had approached me earlier.

She pulled floral wrapping paper out of a drawer. It wasn’t in Christmas colors but was still obviously meant for gifts—or so I assumed. She glanced at me briefly to make sure I was happy with the choice.

I nodded, and she began carefully removing the price tags. Then she placed the soaps in a gift box before wrapping them.

As I watched the clerk wrap the box with graceful, practiced motions, I recalled how much trouble I’d had wrapping gifts back at the bookstore. I’d probably be doing a lot of that again today after prep school. I silently thanked her for doing such a good job, then paid the bill and left.

Once prep school was over, I took my bike to work.

I got changed, then peeked into the back office and saw that there were a lot of part-timers sharing my shift. A big group of us had been mobilized to combat the holiday crowd. In addition to Ayase, Yomiuri, and me, there were three other people on the schedule. It looked like our manager had noticed the growing crowds as Christmas approached and brought in reinforcements.

As expected, the sales floor was once again bustling. We had no time to talk as we spread out into the store and behind the cash registers.

After a while, it was time for a short break. I just happened to wind up alone with Yomiuri in the back office.

“Um, Yomiuri… Can I talk to you for a minute?” I asked.

“It’ll cost you one hundred yen for every three minutes.”

“…How about I get you a coffee sometime instead?”

“You know, kiddo, I think you’re starting to understand how this world works. Now, what’s up with Saki?”

My heart started beating faster. How did she know what I wanted to ask about?

“Being the wise woman I am, I can see right through a young man like you. Come on, spill it. What do you want to know? How to book a hotel room? Isn’t it a little too soon for you guys? Make sure you do it safely when you do it, okay?”

“Please don’t say ‘do’ like that. It sounds ten times filthier.”

Yomiuri was talking like an old man again. It wasn’t the seventies anymore. Heck, it wasn’t even the nineties. These days, comments like that were pure sexual harassment.

…But that wasn’t what I wanted to talk about. I should have known it would be impossible to get to the point in three minutes when dealing with Yomiuri. Maybe I could manage in six minutes, then I’d only have to get her two coffees…

“So, um, anyway. Do you know of any Western-style restaurants nearby that serve good beef stew?”

“Beef stew? I see, I see. So you’ve finally gotten a taste for red meat.”

“Why are you making that sound so dirty? I just mean the food.”

I glared at her, and she finally gave it some thought. “Hmm, well… A Western-style restaurant, huh? Sure, I know a few places—the expensive one Professor Kudou took us to once, as well as some more reasonable options. Do you have any other preferences besides good beef stew?”

“Well, I’m still a high school student, so I’d like to keep it casual and affordable…”

“I see, I see.”

“But I want it to be something a little special. A nice surprise.”

“A tall order. And I suppose that means there’s a person you want to surprise. I see right through you.” A dark grin appeared on Yomiuri’s face. “You must be planning to take Saki out to dinner on her birthday, huh? That’s tomorrow, if I recall.”

“Well, yeah.”

“How lovely! A date at a nice restaurant. Wonderful.”

“I’m just doing something nice for my sister, okay? So, uh, I’d be very grateful if you could give me some advice as someone more experienced in the ways of the world.”

“Humble today, aren’t we? Good boy. Oh, so that’s why you took the shift that gets off at six tomorrow! I see, I see. You must be thinking of somewhere in a fifteen-minute radius of the bookstore. Then you’d have dinner from around six thirty to eight PM…”

How was she so good at guessing this stuff? I’d love to scan this girl’s brain and figure out how it worked.

“Yomiuri, since when have you turned into Sherlock Holmes?”

“Elementary, my dear Watson! Not that Holmes actually said that in any of Doyle’s stories.”

He didn’t? I’d figured it was a pretty famous quote, since even I’d heard it before.

“Sometimes, a line that sounds right sticks with people even more than what someone actually said. That’s how memes are created.”

“Oh, I see.”

“Anyway, getting back to the point, I’ll look into the matter and send you a text later. Leave it to me! Wink!” Yomiuri shot me a wink and waved. I’d never heard anyone say a sound effect out loud like that before. Then she turned around and strode out of the office.

“Thanks!” I called after her.

She seemed in an awful rush to leave. At that point, I glanced at the clock and realized three minutes had passed and our break was over.

…Yomiuri sure was something—in more ways than one.

I stood for a moment in shock, then remembered I was at work. I headed back out onto the sales floor, only to find an even bigger crowd of customers than before. I felt my spirits drop. At this rate, we’d be besieged by Christmas Day.

I gazed up at the sky above. It was pitch-black, like a screen that had been turned off. The Christmas lights of the bustling street below seemed to reach up toward it like a pair of outstretched arms.

I was taking my usual route home from work, pushing my bike and walking alongside Ayase.

“You’re wearing my present,” she said, glancing at my neck. The streetlights softly illuminated her smile.

“Of course. It’s nice and warm. Thanks.”

“I’m glad you like it. By the way, have you decided where we’re going tomorrow?” she asked, her short hair swaying in the wind.

“Sorry, not yet. But I’ll definitely get us a reservation.”

I’d casually asked Maru for his input, too, but I had yet to hear back from either him or Yomiuri. I’d have to check the internet again once we got home.

I was a little concerned about how many restaurants were already fully booked. The next day was the closest Sunday to Christmas, after all. What if I couldn’t get a table anywhere…?

Oh well. Dwelling on it wasn’t going to help. I’d just have to find something.

“Look forward to it, okay?” I said.

I’d backed myself into a corner, and I instantly regretted it. But the words were out, and there was no taking them back now.

“Oh…? Oh yeah. I’m excited.”

Ayase seemed a little hesitant. It must have been because I’d said, “Look forward to it,” and not “I’m looking forward to it.” I had to be more careful. Ayase was sharp and might easily figure out that I was planning to surprise her.

I wasn’t very good at lying, so I’d simply have to keep silent instead.

We got back to the apartment and ate dinner together. It was over in a flash.

“Good night, then. See you tomorrow.”

“Yep. Good night.”

After watching Ayase go back to her room, I returned to my own.

I’d been planning to do some research on the internet before I took my bath, but right as I opened the browser, my phone made a sound. It was the alert for a new text message. I saw Yomiuri’s name and quickly clicked it to open her message.

What popped up was a list of Western-style restaurants along with URLs for their websites. These must be her recommendations.

I sent her a thank-you, and then I heard another sound from my cell phone. She’d sent a follow-up.

The restaurants at the top of the list are Professor Kudou’s recommendations, but I think they’d already be fully booked (though their food is heavenly!), so I’ve added some little-known places I think might still have tables available. Good luck.

I chuckled. “Good luck”? On what, exactly?

I sent her another thank-you, then started opening every URL she’d sent me.

As Yomiuri had predicted, all the restaurants at the top of the list were booked solid. They were pricey, too, though perhaps I should have expected as much from an associate professor’s recommendations.

Some of the places on the list were already closed since it was almost midnight. Fortunately, most of them let me make reservations online. Maybe that was why Yomiuri had recommended them.

I combed through the choices, looking for a restaurant serving beef stew that was pricey enough to be nice but cheap enough that I could afford it, then checking each one’s availability.

At last, I found one with a few tables left. It was on the upper floor of a commercial building downtown and close to the train station.

I quickly completed the registration form for two people in my name. It was my first time booking a table at a restaurant, and I was pretty nervous.

Once I was done and let out a sigh of relief, I noticed that another text had come in from Yomiuri.

Hey, are there any hot movies showing lately? Something you’d like to see?

Movies?

Her question seemed to have come out of the blue. I brought up a movie site I had bookmarked on my browser and took a look, scrolling through the list of new releases.

“Oh yeah, this one starts this weekend.”

I’d completely forgotten, but a new film by a famous anime director had come out the previous day. It was the director’s first film in three years. I didn’t know much about it aside from the title, but I’d intentionally decided to go in blind so I could get my own take on it. I’d liked the director’s previous films, so I was confident this one would be good as well. I was particularly fond of the director’s casual depiction of scenes of everyday life.

Because the director was famous, every new film they released became a hot topic. I was sure social media was full of comments and critiques, even though it had only been out for two days. I didn’t want to be influenced, though, so I wasn’t going to look.

After typing the title and copying the URL, I replied to Yomiuri.

Maybe this one.

Oh-ho. That one, huh?

She seemed to know about it, too. But why was she suddenly asking me about movies? Did she want to invite me out again?

Now that I’d realized how I felt about Ayase, though, I was hesitant to go to a movie alone with another woman, even if she was a coworker.

But what brought this on? I wrote casually.

Yomiuri’s response came right away, as if she’d known exactly what I would say.

I thought I’d check it out first and spoil it for you!

Typical Yomiuri.

Please don’t.

I’d waited three years for this film. She had to be joking, right? Either way, I did not want spoilers.

She was probably just in the mood to see a film. I was a bit embarrassed about my reaction. Perhaps I’d been overly self-conscious.

I thanked her again for the list of restaurants, then said good night.

The following day was Ayase’s birthday.

After checking my e-mail and seeing a confirmation from the restaurant that they’d received my request, I went to bed.

December 19 (Saturday)—Saki Ayase

I should have expected the Omotesando area to be crowded on the weekend.

The sidewalks were overflowing with people, and I couldn’t see in front of me. Even the cars on the road were moving along at a snail’s pace. On top of that, it was lunchtime, and people were out on the streets in search of food.

I looked down at my phone and checked the map. I was supposed to be going to a café right in front of a prep school, but I was having a hard time finding the right place.

Wait a minute. Isn’t this prep school…?

I recognized the name.

“Saki! Over here!” a voice called out to me, and I looked up.

A girl was jumping up and down amid the crowd at the end of the street, waving her hands in the air. I wanted to pretend I hadn’t seen her, but I rushed over all the same.

“Hey, Maaya,” I said. “Aren’t you embarrassed, jumping around like that?”

“What do you mean?”

She looked back at me with a straight face, and for a moment, I wondered if there was something wrong with me. Was I the one acting weird?

“Hah. Forget it,” I grumbled, getting in line behind her.

We were waiting to enter a café with terrace seating. Three tables for four sat outside. It was a bit chilly out, but all the seats were taken. We were standing next to the café’s sign. Is that French? Italian, maybe? I couldn’t read it. The wind was cold, and I wanted to go inside. Soon, a waitress came out and asked everyone if we had reservations.

When she got to us, Maaya said, “Narasaka, party of two.”

“Yes, Ms. Narasaka. I see you have a reservation for twelve thirty.” She took us out of the queue and led us inside.

The café was meant to be an “urban oasis,” and they had set bright green houseplants all over the place. There was even a small fountain in the back, and we could hear the sound of running water.

I could see a placard with the word RESERVED set atop a table by the window overlooking the street. It was a lovely wooden table set for two.

As I took a seat, I saw the sign for the prep school I’d seen on the map across the road. Aha, I thought. No wonder it had sounded familiar. It was the one Asamura attended.

I checked the time on my cell phone. It was 12:32. His morning classes had probably just finished.

“What is it?” asked Maaya. “Do you see something?”

I panicked and pulled my gaze away from the window to face her.

“Nothing,” I said.

“Hmm.”

“Oh, here’s the menu.” I tried to hand Maaya the folded menu, but she held up a palm.

“It’s okay. This is my treat, and I ordered when I made the reservation.”

“You did?”

“I can hardly wait to sample their pancakes… So what did you see?”

“…I said it was noth—”

“Hey, there’s Asamura!”

I couldn’t stop myself from glancing out the window. Oh, crap. Was this a trick? But by the time that thought occurred to me, I’d already spotted him outside.

He’d dashed out of the prep school and taken off in a hurry. It was probably his lunch break, so maybe he was going out to eat. I quickly lost him in the crowd.

“Is that a prep school? Hmm. So that’s where he goes to study.”

“He’s been going there since summer break.”

“Oh, I see, I see. You have a good grasp of your brother’s schedule. Come to think of it, haven’t his exam scores been improving?”

Where on earth had she gotten that information? She was right, though, so I nodded. We were siblings, so it made sense for me to know stuff like that.

“I guess prep school paid off. But I wonder where he’s going in such a hurry? I was waving like crazy, and he didn’t even notice.”

“You…were waving?”

Through the window? Wasn’t that super embarrassing? I looked around, but fortunately, the other patrons were engrossed in their meals and paying us no mind.

“Yeah, but he didn’t notice me at all.”

“Well, of course he didn’t.”

The Omotesando area was a large four-lane street with extra space for parking. Not only did it have a median, but there were also trees lining it, making it hard to see. Maaya had been waving from inside a café on the other side of the street. Even if he’d spotted her, he’d never guess she was waving at him.

I was glad—I didn’t want him to notice me. If he did, he’d probably get the wrong idea and think I’d come here to see him.

“But, Saki, you noticed him right away.”

“Urk! W-well, we…we are siblings.”

“Heh-heh.” Maaya put on a big grin. As usual, she’d already taken the reins of the conversation.

“As I keep saying, it isn’t like tha—”

“Here you are.”

At the sound of the waitress’s voice, I looked up. When I saw what she’d brought to our table, I yelped.

The previous day, Maaya had suggested we go to a famous pancake shop to celebrate my birthday. She’d wanted to go on Sunday, but I asked her to go today instead. That meant she’d only made the reservation on Friday, so I’d assumed it would just be a casual meal.

“Happy birthday, Saki!”

The pancake the waitress had brought over wasn’t just any pancake. The words “Happy Birthday” were written on top in chocolate, and there was a cute candle, too. The waitress took a lighter out of her apron and lit the candle, then she started singing “Happy Birthday.” Maaya joined in. Her voice was pretty loud, and people at other tables turned to look.

“Okay, blow out the candle!”

At Maaya’s urging, I quickly blew it out. I could hear applause coming from all around us.

P-people were watching…

The other patrons were smiling and clapping. It was nice, but I was pretty embarrassed. I’d never had anyone celebrate my birthday like this before.

“This is what I meant by a surprise! Did you like it? Huh?” Maaya stuck her chest out proudly and put her hands on her hips.

“I think you overdid it with the pose.”

“You loved it!”

“Did I say that?”

“Hee-hee. But you are happy, aren’t you?”

“W-well. Uh… I guess so.”

“And here’s your present.”

“Oh, you shouldn’t have. You’re already paying for the meal.”

“It’s no big deal. Come on, open it.”

Maaya pulled out a palm-sized package, catching me off guard. When I peeled back the wrapping paper, I found a tube of lipstick.

“A girl can never have too many lipstick colors, right?!”

“Uh…right.”

I was impressed by her good taste. She’d picked a cute design. Instead of something flashy, it had a clean, cylindrical shape that curved in slightly at the middle. The design as well as the colors of the cap and tube were perfectly suited to my tastes.

I twisted it and looked at the color of the lipstick. It wasn’t too gaudy—perfect for a high school student to use day-to-day.

“I chose one that’s good for keeping in moisture since it gets dry in the winter.”

“…Thanks.”

I could tell she’d put a lot of thought into the gift.

Back when it was just Mom and me, I’d always requested practical presents. Money wasn’t tight exactly, but our priority was to make ends meet.

What’s more, this was probably the first time I’d had a friend celebrate my birthday with me like this. I hadn’t really had those kinds of friends before. I’d only gotten this close to Maaya fairly recently. We’d started hanging out more after she came over to our apartment, saying she wanted to see Asamura. I’d never expected to receive a gift from her.

“So how was the surprise?”

“Mm. I guess I’m a little frustrated.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“Heh-heh.”

Thanks.

But…I wish you’d told me a little earlier.

I regretted not getting to celebrate Asamura’s birthday like this. If I’d known then how nice surprises were, I definitely would have come up with something for him.

The pancakes were delicious.

After work that day, I walked home with Asamura.

As we left the bustling city center, the lights illuminating the street began to thin out, and more stars became visible. Looking up at that great black canvas, I could see three bright stars all in a line, like the notches in a belt. I wondered which constellation they belonged to. Maybe Asamura could tell me if I asked.

I stole a glance at his neck as he walked beside me.

“You’re wearing my present.”

“Of course. It’s nice and warm. Thanks.”

It made me so happy to see him using my gift.

The following day was my birthday. We had our parents’ permission to stay out late, and we’d promised each other to have dinner, just the two of us. It was the first time I’d be spending my birthday with the person I loved, and I could feel my heart speeding up in excitement.

I casually asked him which restaurant we were going to, but it seemed like he was still trying to decide. But he told me to look forward to it.

At those words, I hesitated for a second.

“Oh…?”

I could hear the strange note in my own voice, so I quickly added, “Oh yeah. I’m excited.”

“Look forward to it”?

What an odd thing to say. If he was planning on taking me somewhere nice, he might’ve meant, “It’s a nice place, so look forward to it.”

But he’d said he still hadn’t picked a restaurant. But if neither of us knew what to look forward to, what could he have meant?

Was he planning something special…?

I couldn’t help thinking this over and naturally fell silent. Asamura stopped talking, too, so I had a lot of time to think as we made our way home.

Could it be…

…that Asamura was planning a surprise for me?

In that case, I’d better not press him for any details. That wouldn’t make either of us happy. Just today, I’d learned how wonderful surprises could be, and I wanted to look forward to whatever it was without any spoilers.

Once we got back to our apartment, I ate dinner with Asamura as usual. Then we said good night, and I went back to my room.

I finished studying for the day, took a bath, then slipped into bed.

As I set my alarm, I thought back over the day’s events.

I thought I’d like to surprise Maaya on her next birthday and wondered if Asamura was really planning a surprise for me at dinner the following day.

When it came down to it, he’d only said one thing that sounded a little off. “Look forward to it” instead of “I’m looking forward to it.” That tiny difference was enough to make me imagine he might be planning a surprise.

As I pulled up the covers, something occurred to me: Was my Asamura reading comprehension getting better?

I wasn’t that good at Modern Japanese, so I didn’t have a lot of confidence when it came to the book called Yuuta Asamura. But I was already looking forward to checking my answer the following night.

When I was growing up, my father never came home, and my mother was busy at work. I could never even count on Santa Claus to bring me a present.

Who would have dreamed that, one day, I’d be so excited about my birthday?

As my body warmed the space under the covers, my eyes drifted shut, and I fell into the abyss of sleep.

When I woke up, it would be my seventeenth birthday.

Good night.

December 20 (Sunday)—Yuuta Asamura

I’d been restless all day.

I’d felt fidgety since the moment I woke up in the morning, and I was distracted all afternoon during my shift at the bookstore.

Time passed in the blink of an eye. It was already only half an hour until the end of my shift at six PM.

As Christmas got closer and closer, the number of people out and about in Shibuya continued to increase. I felt a little guilty for taking off early when the store was so busy.

The second half of December held all sorts of special tribulations for bookstores. Wholesale deliveries came a to a halt over the end-of-year holidays, which meant new releases had been moved up from the end of the month and were already on sale. In other words, we had more books out at once than any other time of the year.

November and December were always like this in publishing. I’d heard authors and editors were forced into a hellish schedule full of tears and apologies, and the result was a load of extra work for booksellers.

Say we were used to ten new books coming out in a week for a certain demographic, and now we had to deal with twenty. We’d run out of space on our shelves unless we came up with tricks to make everything fit, and we’d have to create twice as many POP displays.

Meanwhile, customers would show up as usual, unaware of the special circumstances, and wind up confused. That meant even more work helping them out…

If some people were living it up over the holidays, other people were working up a sweat, putting in twice the effort. That was just how the world was.

All I could do was thank them. It was my turn today, but I hoped I’d be able to help someone else when they were having fun.

That was when I remembered that it was Yomiuri who had taken Ayase’s and my shift that day. I started sorting the shelves before I headed out, thinking it was the least I could do to reduce the work for those who came after us.

Once it was time to leave, I headed into the back office.

“Huh?”

But when I opened the door, I found someone I hadn’t expected to see: Yomiuri.

Several of the part-timers starting at six were already on the sales floor, and I hadn’t expected to find her here so late.

“This is unusual,” I said.

“Are you going to ask me if I’m ditching work?”

“Oh, no, of course not.”

“‘Get the heck out of here,’ you say? How cruel. Waaah, waaahh. ♪”

“You definitely aren’t crying.”

“Hee-hee.”

It doesn’t matter what I say; she always finds a way to tease me.

“Haah.”

As I sighed, the door creaked, and Ayase stepped in. “Huh? Yomiuri? Aren’t you on shift now?”

“How mean! I swear I’m not skipping.”

“Oh, so you’re just running late.”

“That’s not it, either. I’ve been waiting for you, Saki! Get over here. I wanted to give you your present.” She pulled Ayase by the hand over to the women’s locker room.

“Huh?! What?!”

“Don’t worry. Leave everything to ole Uncle Yomiuri.”

Finally admitting she’s basically an old man, huh? But that wasn’t important right now. I couldn’t believe how bold she was being. Her shift had started already, and the manager was right there behind his desk, watching the whole thing.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” I asked him.

“Well, I can’t run this place without her,” he said with a wry smile.

“I see…”

“I’m counting it as a teamwork exercise.”

Yomiuri must be vital to this place’s operation.

It seemed she really was just handing Ayase her present, though. She came right back out of the changing room, gave me a casual wave, then headed out onto the sales floor. Her grin left me with an uneasy feeling.

A little while later, Ayase emerged from the changing room in her street clothes, and we clocked out and left the bookstore.

It was a little after six by the time we left, but the reservation was for six thirty, so we still had plenty of time.

Ayase and I headed for the restaurant.

I raised the topic of Yomiuri’s gift as we walked, but Ayase kept her words vague and wouldn’t tell me what it was. Maybe it was something she didn’t want to talk about. But even Yomiuri wouldn’t give a coworker something like that…would she…?

“Is this it?”

“Hmm?”

Before I realized it, we’d reached our destination. Ayase looked uneasy as she glanced at the signs on the wall of the building.

“These places look expensive. Are you sure?”

“I think they’re aimed at families. You’d be surprised how reasonably priced they are.”

The upper floor of the building was full of restaurants serving Japanese, Western, and Chinese cuisine. I searched the floor map for the name of the restaurant I’d booked and found it. It was right in front of us, surrounded by wooden partitions.

“Oh, here we are.”

The interior was brightly lit, with a relaxed atmosphere. It was nice and spacious, and the tables were pleasantly far apart. I was used to noisy fast-food joints, so this place was like another world to me.

Like I’d said to Ayase, the clientele was mostly young couples and families with children. It was a little more upscale than a typical family eatery but more relaxed than a fancy hotel restaurant.

“This is my first time at a place like this,” said Ayase. “I’d never come here on my own.”

“Well, it’s your birthday. Why not go for something nice?”

I gave my name to the approaching waiter, and he led us to our table. We sat down facing each other.

“But why here?” she asked. “Is it famous?”

“Oh, well… Umm.”

Why did revealing a surprise make me so nervous? It was much easier to maintain a poker face when you wanted to keep a secret.

“I heard they served great beef stew.”

Ayase had looked a bit sleepy up until then; maybe she was exhausted from work. But when I said “beef stew,” her eyes opened wide.

“What…?”

“Uh… I heard it was your favorite.”

Could her tastes have changed? As she stared at me in a daze, I began to panic.

“How did you know?”

“Sorry, I asked Akiko to tell me in secret.”

I’d wanted to surprise her, since she already knew what her present would be. That said, I didn’t want to do anything that would annoy her.

When I told her that, Ayase gaped for a few moments, then she frowned.

“It isn’t fair.”

“Huh?”

“It isn’t fair for you to do this when I didn’t have the chance.”

“Oh, um… Sorry, I guess.”

“I wanted to surprise you, too.”

“Oh…”

That made sense. This was Ayase, after all—the girl who always wanted to give more when it came to give-and-take. Getting a nice surprise without being able to give one was sure to upset her.

But I’d never seen her pout and say something was unfair before. In the past, she never would have been so honest with me. Did that mean she’d started letting her guard down when we were together? When I thought about it that way, even her sulking was cute.

The waiter took the RESERVED card from our table and set down a pair of menus. We looked them over as he brought our silverware and napkins.

“Wow. Everything looks good,” said Ayase. “Oh… Can I order this?”

She was pointing to the beef stew, one of the restaurant’s recommended dishes.

“Of course.”

We both ordered beef stew, and the food arrived without delay.

“Be careful,” said the waiter. “It’s hot.”

Steam was rising from the iron dishes containing our stew. A faintly tart aroma wafted up from the thick demi-glace sauce as two chunks of lean beef peeked out from a sea of deep-brown sauce.

I could see two orange carrot slices, cut into thin sticks, next to some bright-green pieces of broccoli. Sliced mushrooms floated in the center, adding a white color to the stew. The presentation was well-balanced, making it look even more delicious.

I slid the tip of my fork into the meat; a gentle twist was all it took to make it fall apart. I speared half a chunk and brought it to my mouth, but the moment it made contact with my tongue, I felt a burning sensation.

“Ow! It’s hot!”

“A-are you okay?”

I’d taken too big a bite.

Panicked, I gulped down half a glass of mineral water. Our waiter quickly appeared and refilled my drink.

“Thank you.”

He was a true professional. He kept a neutral expression throughout and left again without a sound, as though he hadn’t even noticed what I’d done.

I drank a little more water from my now-full glass.

“It was still really hot…”

“Yeah. I’ll be careful.”

Ayase cut her meat neatly with her knife and fork and took a small bite. A smile spread over her face.

“Delicious!” She said it tasted similar to the beef stew she remembered from when she was a kid. “I wonder what sets it apart from the stuff we make at home?”

“Even you can’t tell?”

“I can’t… With stews, the flavors of the ingredients tend to melt into the soup.”

“Oh. That’s true.”

Now that I’d started helping out in the kitchen, I had personal experience. It was true that soups tended to absorb the flavors of the ingredients.

“It seems like they’ve managed to really concentrate the flavor of the beef.”

We continued eating, talking about this and that.

Once we filled our stomachs, I took Ayase’s present out of my bag and handed it to her. It was nice soap, just as she’d requested.

She opened the package on the spot.

“Oh… A soap saver.”

“That’s extra.”

“Thanks. This is terrific.” She smiled. “These soaps are so beautiful and stylish. I almost feel bad using them up. I was wondering what you’d choose, but I never imagined you’d pick something like these.”

From her words, I wondered if she’d already noticed that I’d intentionally gone for soothing scents. If she did, that meant I had succeeded in following Maru’s advice—I’d let Ayase see that I was making an effort. It felt kind of embarrassing, to be honest.

“Hey, uh… You’ve made me really happy. So, um, I want to give you something back.” Ayase lifted the small bag in her lap, undid the clasp, and pulled out what looked like an envelope. “Want to go see a movie after this?”

She pulled two pieces of paper out of the envelope and turned one over to show me the front.

They were movie tickets. The screening started at ten minutes to nine at a theater by the train station. I recognized the title. But of course I did—it was a new anime film by one of my favorite directors. The first one in three years.

That was when it hit me: This couldn’t be a coincidence.

“Don’t tell me…”

“This was what Yomiuri gave me for my birthday. She said, ‘You can use it any way you like. There’s two, so you can invite Asamura along!’”

I knew it. Yomiuri was such a schemer.

After dinner, we headed for the cinema.

We couldn’t waste the tickets, since they were only good for today. But that was only an excuse. I was genuinely interested in the film. I’d waited three years, after all.

We arrived just in time for the showing. There was a city ordinance prohibiting minors from using commercial facilities after eleven PM, and that included movie theaters. If the film went past eleven, we wouldn’t have been allowed inside. Fortunately, this one ended at ten fifty PM.

The movie itself was probably around an hour and forty minutes long. If Yomiuri had calculated when we’d get off work and bought the tickets with all that in mind, I was in awe of her abilities.

“We’ll have to leave as soon as it’s over,” Ayase said, and I nodded.

I’d already called home and let our parents know. They’d allowed us to see the film, provided we returned right after. They gave us permission to take a taxi if we got delayed, but I doubted that would happen.

“What kind of movie is this?” Ayase asked as she looked at the display in front of the theater.

The digital poster showed a boy and a girl around high school age, but it didn’t tell us much about the story.

“Is it horror? Fantasy? Or science fiction?”

“Well… Actually, I don’t really know,” I admitted.

Ayase looked surprised. “You don’t?”

“I wanted to go in with a blank slate, so I tried not to find out too much.”

“Oh… You must have really been looking forward to it, then.”

“I guess so.”

When she put it like that, I started to feel a little self-conscious.

We presented our tickets, went inside, and followed the signs to screen three.

We had good seats—slightly to the rear of the center, so we wouldn’t have to crane our necks.

Seeing a film in the theater was definitely more exciting than watching it at home on TV, though maybe that would be different if we had a hundred-inch screen. Even if we did, there was something special about the atmosphere in a theater. It made you feel like you were sharing an experience with the other moviegoers.

We sat down and caught our breath as the trailers ran. Then the lights dimmed, and the film began.

The story takes place at a typical high school. It begins with a shot looking in through a classroom window, then the camera zooms in on a figure sitting in the corner—a female student with black hair, the girl we’d seen on the poster. Her hair color is different, but I thought she looked like Ayase.

The first part of the film is about the shy girl’s daily life.

Then one day, a theft occurs in the classroom.

People suspect that the girl is responsible. Even another girl who she thought was her friend won’t believe her when she protests her innocence. Filled with despair, she wanders through the streets until she’s hit by a truck and killed.

I thought she’d be reincarnated in another world or something, but instead, she travels back in time, her memory still intact.

She then repeats her days at school, making different friends and avoiding what happened last time. But once again, she’s betrayed by someone she thought was her friend, and she falls into despair. Gradually, the girl closes off her heart.

But one day, a new student joins her class.

It’s the other character we saw on the poster—a boy with light-colored hair.

After everything she’s been through, the girl stops believing in others, and at first, she’s wary of the new boy. But over time, his warmth touches her, and her troubled heart is healed.

Then her fated day arrives once again. It’s the day before school gets out for the summer. This time around, the girl is suspected of murder. Who is the real murderer, and why does the girl keep traveling back in time?

The boy turns out to be a time traveler from the future.

He tells her, “What you’re experiencing is a localized oscillation in time with you at its center. If we hadn’t done something about it, a huge crack could have formed, and the universe might have fallen apart.”

The boy was sent from a world ten thousand years in the future to fix that crack in time and space.

“Is that why you approached me?” the girl asks.

But the boy shakes his head. Ten thousand years in the future, no one knows what caused the crack. He had no way to know it was her.

“Then why?”

“Because you couldn’t trust anyone, you were the only person who treated me the same as everyone else. Everyone else saw how unfamiliar I was with the customs of this time and didn’t want to be around me. But because you had no preconceptions, we were able to meet each other halfway and come to understand the other. And besides…your miso soup is the most delicious I’ve ever tasted. We don’t have it anymore in the future, you know.”

Apparently, miso soup does not survive the ravages of time.

I chuckled, as does the girl on the screen.

The next moment, the boy is embracing her. He whispers, “I’m going to get you out of here,” and the girl hugs him back and sobs.

Just then, Ayase moved into my field of vision. She was leaning forward, eyes glued to the screen. I saw a single tear fall down her cheek.

I hurriedly turned back to the movie.

I got the feeling I’d seen something I shouldn’t have. But at the same time, a warm emotion welled up inside me.

I wanted to cherish her. That was how I felt.

Back on the screen, the film was reaching its climax, and the theme music was blaring.

The movie had lasted an hour and forty-three minutes, and now it was over.

I didn’t think I’d ever forget this day—Ayase’s seventeenth birthday.

December 20 (Sunday)—Saki Ayase

After I finished work, Shiori Yomiuri dragged me into the cramped women’s changing room. I was a little worried if this was okay—her shift had already started.

But then she opened up her locker, pulled out her bag, and handed me a white envelope.

“Here,” she said.

“Huh?” I accepted it with some trepidation, wondering what it was.

“It’s your birthday present.”

What kind of present could fit in such a thin envelope? Could it be a gift certificate or a coupon of some sort?

She gestured for me to open it, so I did. There was a piece of paper inside.

It was a ticket to a movie. I didn’t recognize the title. The screening started at…ten minutes to nine, which was quite late. I was surprised when I saw the date.

“What?! Is this for today?”

“Yep. Go see the movie with Yuuta.”

“With Asamura?”

Sure enough, I found a second ticket beneath the first one.

“It should start around the time you finish your dinner.”

“…Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

She’d already asked me about today, and I’d told her it was my birthday and that I was having dinner with Asamura.

He’d only shared his rough plan for the evening, but we were supposed to leave the bookstore at six and have dinner right after. If he’d made a reservation, it was probably for six thirty. Even if we took our time eating, we should be able to leave the restaurant by half past eight.

Still, all we’d let Yomiuri know was when we were leaving work, and yet she’d already figured out our whole schedule. It wouldn’t be easy to keep secrets from Yomiuri.

I’d never considered movie tickets as a potential birthday gift… Was it really all right to accept them?

“Uh… Thank you.”

“Think nothing of it. If you got some useless knickknack from a coworker, it’d just get in the way, right? I figured this wouldn’t weigh you down too much.”

“‘In the way’…? I wouldn’t—”

Would I really feel like that?

“Sure you would. It rarely happens all the time.”

“Wait, so is it rare or not?”

“Just take the envelope, okay? Movie tickets are only good on that one day. They’re the most ephemeral gift out there. You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. But you know…” A wicked grin appeared on her face. “I happened to know that Asamura really wants to see that movie.”

I was blindsided.

“I’ve already done the research,” she declared. “I’m sure he’d be overjoyed to see it.”

“Urk…”

He’d be overjoyed…? Really?

There was something I’d been mulling over for the last few days. I’d given Asamura a present on his birthday, but I hadn’t surprised him. In the past, I hadn’t thought such things were necessary. But this year, I’d started to regret missing my chance.

Now, though, I could surprise him with these movie tickets.

“Ee-hee-hee. You’ve decided to go, haven’t you? Haven’t you?”

“W-well…yeah. I don’t want to waste the tickets.”

I wondered if Yomiuri was aware of my relationship with Asamura and was trying to help.

“Um! Wh-why are you doing this for me…?”

I started to lose momentum at the end of my question. Wasn’t it a little too self-centered to assume she was trying to help me out?

Yomiuri was a girl with both beauty and brains. She had long black hair that flowed down her back and a clean, trim figure. Asamura always said she was hiding a dirty old man inside, but if you asked me, I could never compete with her. If she was after the same guy as me, I wasn’t sure what I’d do.

“Why? Well, isn’t it obvious?! I can’t tell you what happens until you guys go and see it, and I’m dying to discuss it. It’s pretty deep, and there’s a lot to think about and argue over.”

“Oh, is the story difficult?”

“No, no! …I don’t think so anyway. But back to the point, that’s why I want you guys to go and see it right away. I’ll be checking it out very soon myself.”

Yomiuri’s gaze was serious, and I didn’t think she was teasing me. Then again, she was a pro at teasing, so I couldn’t be sure. Still, I felt confident she meant what she was saying.

It would be a shame not to go after she’d given me these tickets, so I made up my mind to see the film.

“Okay, thank you. I’m sure I’ll enjoy it.”

With that, I accepted Yomiuri’s birthday gift.

Now that we were off work, Asamura and I headed to a commercial building near the station. Its sixth floor was full of restaurants, and Asamura took me to one serving Western-style food.

The interior looked comfortable, and I was excited to go in, but something about the choice struck me as odd. Would Asamura usually choose a place like this? I didn’t think so. But then why?

When I asked him, he said, “I heard they served great beef stew.”

I was stunned. Beef stew was my favorite dish.

He said Mom had told him and that he’d wanted to surprise me since I already knew what my present would be.

Sure enough, I was thrilled.

But I was also frustrated. I hadn’t been able to surprise him on his birthday, and now here he was, doing all this for me.

He passed me the menu.

The omelet rice and the curry looked delicious. There was a picture of flan topped with cream like a little hat and submerged in an ocean of caramel sauce, too. I was sure it would taste amazing, but it wasn’t time for dessert.

“Wow. Everything looks good. Oh… Can I order this?”

But since we’d come all the way here, I wanted to try their beef stew. I looked at the prices for various combos and chose the one I liked best.

When the waiter brought out the stew, it surpassed all my expectations. Why did dishes like this always taste better at restaurants than when you made them at home?

“Maybe there’s something different about the meat,” Asamura suggested.

“Aha. That could be it. Hmm… I’d like to try re-creating it.”

Or perhaps it was the cooking method. As I thought about it, I felt a prick in my chest as memories flooded back into my mind.

There’d been a little mom-and-pop restaurant near my house when I was a kid. I’d never forgotten the taste of their beef stew. When I first tried it, I couldn’t believe a food could be so delicious.

That was the truth, no doubt about it. But maybe the reason was something other than just the flavor of the food.

Eventually, my mom got remarried. Her new husband, Asamura’s dad, was very kind, and Mom seemed really happy…

Back around Halloween, my mom came home one day saying she didn’t need to go to work.

“I have Taichi now, so I can afford to take some time off.”

Hearing that…I felt relieved. Mom could finally let herself relax. Before, it hadn’t been like that.

After divorcing my birth father, my mother raised me by herself, never relying on her relatives. She cooked for me every day, despite her busy schedule.

Even as a child, I could tell she had a lot on her plate. So once I entered junior high, I learned to cook so I could help her out.

I had no complaints about Mom’s cooking. It was always delicious. But there were some dishes she couldn’t make because she was so busy. Considering the nature of her work, food that took a long time to prepare was difficult for her.

My birth father had been vain, and he’d taken us to some very nice restaurants while my parents were still married. But because of his obsession with appearances, he’d been a real stickler for manners.

Maybe it would have been different if my family had hammered proper etiquette into me from the time I was born. But you couldn’t expect an elementary schooler to have perfect table manners when she only had to use them once every six months or so. Instead, I got so nervous that I couldn’t even taste the food. The slightest sound would earn me a loud scolding. That was a fear you had to experience to understand.

For me, eating out was like an exam, and I had to get a perfect score.

When my parents’ divorce was finalized, I remember Mom looked exhausted and yet somehow refreshed. That day, she took me out to eat. Not to a fancy restaurant, but to a casual spot in our neighborhood. I asked for orange juice, which she’d never let me have, saying it would give me cavities. Then I burned my lips on a plate of piping hot beef stew. I got sauce all over my mouth, and Mom laughed as she wiped it off with a napkin.

The restaurant was a small place run by an elderly couple. Regular customers treated it like their own home.

The beef stew I had there had been slow-cooked for hours. I could sense the love and care the old couple put into that tender meat, hoping their customers would enjoy it. It was a warmth that could melt even the hardest of hearts.

The beef fell apart on my tongue. It tasted like comfort.

“And here’s your present.”

Asamura’s voice jolted me back to the present. He pulled a gift-wrapped package out of his bag and handed it to me.

I’d only asked for a nice soap, but he’d chosen a set of three, all with relaxing herbal fragrances. It was obvious what he’d been thinking when he picked them out.

When I rose in the morning, I put on my armor for the day and got myself ready to face the world head-on. It was only when I took my evening bath that I let myself unwind. He’d chosen these soaps to help me relax after a hard day’s fight. I felt like he was telling me that it was okay to take a break.

Was it really okay? Back when it was just my mom and me, we’d always had to keep fighting…

Without allowing the thoughts swirling in my mind to show on my face, I said, “Hey, uh… You’ve made me very happy. So, um, I want to give you something back.”

My words faltering, I showed him the tickets Yomiuri had given me. Tickets to a movie Asamura wanted to see.

He looked stunned.

I was glad I’d managed to surprise him.

Thank you, Yomiuri.

There’s something special about watching a movie in the theater. It’s something other kinds of entertainment just can’t provide.

There are people all around you, and yet it feels like you’re alone. At the same time, you can feel the presence of others, even when you’re immersed in the film.

I didn’t think I’d ever felt quite like this before—like I was sharing my experiences with someone else at such a comfortable distance.

The movie was interesting. Actually, it was kind of scary.

The main character is a young girl who is betrayed over and over again by her classmates. She gets involved in an incident and is falsely accused, and her friends continue to reject her even when she tries to reach out to them. Then she travels back in time and keeps experiencing the same hopelessness and despair over and over again. Her heart is too full of pain to bear, when a boy—the other protagonist—appears.

The boy came from the future to help her avoid her tragic fate, but the girl has been betrayed too many times and can’t fully trust him. Her heart is frozen, and everyone seems like an enemy to her.

I’d been studying classic stories at Asamura’s suggestion, so I quickly realized the story was based on Andersen’s fairy tale “The Snow Queen.”

The girl’s heart, scarred by tragedy, is like Kai’s eye and heart, pierced by shards from the troll’s magic mirror. And the boy who comes from the future to save her is Gerda. It struck me as a modern twist to swap the characters’ genders.

I found my eyes glued to the screen.

The boy, who is the girl’s savior, appears only two weeks before the start of summer break. A year ago, I would have found the idea that he could melt the girl’s frozen heart in such a short time ridiculous. Things were different now.

In the climax scene, the boy is shown hugging the girl.

“I’m going to get you out of here. So…”

…You don’t have to endure this pain anymore.

Hearing his words, the girl finally hugs him back.

Normally, I wouldn’t let myself get so vulnerable in public. I think it happened because Asamura was sitting next to me. I was alone, but I wasn’t really alone. It was the magic of the movie theater. I felt his presence, and it gave me comfort.

Oh, no.

I tried to hold back, but I couldn’t, and something hot slid down my cheek.

The ending theme song played, and the credits finished rolling. Still, it took some time before I could move again.

Right before the lights came back on, I managed to speak up.

“Mind if I go to the ladies’ room?”

Without waiting for his answer, I stood and dashed to the bathroom.

I checked my face in the mirror. The makeup around the corners of my eyes was a little smudged. I could have done better if I’d known this was going to happen.

I sighed. I couldn’t believe I’d cried. Come to think of it, it had been years since I’d last shed a tear.

I decided to fix my makeup and opened my bag. But then I stopped.

Yes, my makeup was slightly off, but it wasn’t that obvious unless you looked carefully.

We weren’t going anywhere else, just heading home. It was dark out, and we probably wouldn’t even get a good look at each other’s faces.

As I stared at my reflection, the blurred makeup at the corners of my eyes reminded me of the climax in “The Snow Queen.” Tears burn away the shards from the troll’s mirror, dislodging the splinter from the boy’s eye and making him warm and cheerful again.

I guess I don’t need to fix my makeup.

We were only going home, and Asamura would be there beside me.

Maybe I didn’t have to wear my armor right now.

December 24 (Thursday)—Yuuta Asamura

“Geez. High school’s already halfway over,” I muttered.

I’d said the words under my breath, but my best friend sitting one desk ahead of me had apparently overheard. He turned his big body around and— Hey, come on! Homeroom is still in session!

“That’s right, Asamura,” Maru said in a whisper. “Next year, we’ll have to get serious about our college entrance exams.”

At the front of the class, the teacher was advising us about various dos and don’ts ahead of winter break. I was still listening, but I winced when Maru brought up exams.

“We’ll be adults before we know it,” said Maru, sounding somewhat resigned.

“I don’t mind growing up,” I replied.

I didn’t have any desire to remain a child. Children were always being protected, and that, in turn, meant they couldn’t protect anyone else.

…Being an adult does sound kind of exhausting, though.

Dad’s face popped into my mind.

Well, maybe it’s not so bad.

Ever since he got remarried, he’d worn nothing but goofy smiles. Because of that, memories of the hardships he’d faced after his first wife left him seemed fainter every day.

“Are you the type who’s in a hurry to grow up, Asamura?”

“Aren’t you?”

“I don’t know. There’s a lot I still need to learn. I wish I could hole up in a practice room and freeze time for just a little longer.”

“Oh yeah?”

Was he talking about baseball? If he was serious about pursuing the sport, no amount of time would be too much.

“There’s so much anime I haven’t gotten around to yet.”

“Wait, that’s what you meant?!”

“Just kidding.”

I flopped down on my desk. I couldn’t tell if Maru was really joking or not.

I could feel the sun on the nape of my neck, and I turned my head toward the window. The sun was visible through the upper part of the glass. It was still low in the sky, even though it was almost noon, and light poured into the classroom, reaching all the way to the third row of chairs where Maru and I sat.

It was warm…and because of that, I felt drowsy.

The teacher’s words were like a lullaby, but I had to hang on. School would be over in only a few more minutes.

At last, a chime played over the speakers, signaling the end of the day.

The teacher’s lecture was finally over, and every student exhaled at once. Cheers broke out, but they were a bit subdued; the teacher was still in the room, after all. Looking a little fed up, he issued one last warning not to get carried away over break, then left the room.

“I don’t think he needs to be so worried about Christmas. We’re second-years now.”

“Huh?” I shot Maru a puzzled look.

“He was talking about improper sexual relationships between students. He probably doesn’t want to spend New Year’s cleaning up some youthful indiscretions.”

“I don’t blame him. I’d hate that if I were in his shoes.”

“But aren’t you worried? You know, as a big brother?” Maru teased.

He’d caught me unawares, and my eyes went wide. “Huh?”

“I bet Ayase has plans tonight, right?”

“Tonight?”

“Well, Christmas dates usually take place on the eve, don’t they?”

It took a while for his words to sink in. Was Maru trying to suggest that Ayase might have plans to go out on a Christmas date? It was true that no one knew about our relationship; maybe someone would take advantage of the holiday season and attempt to ask her out.

If we wanted to keep up appearances as siblings, it would be weird if Ayase kept turning other boys down. I could imagine her finding it difficult to say no over and over…

No way. That wouldn’t happen.

Just then, I felt something vibrating against my chest. I straightened up and pulled my cell phone out of my pocket.

I had a text message from Ayase. The preview message read: I’m gonna pick up some groceries on my way home.

See? She’s not going anywhere.

“What’s the matter?” asked Maru. “Was it from Ayase? ‘I hate you, Big Brother!’”

“This isn’t an anime. She doesn’t talk like that.”

“So it was from Ayase.”

“Urk.”

“You’re so easy to read.”

“And you’re way too perceptive.”

“Aren’t you going to send her a reply, Big Brother?”

“Nah.” I put the phone back in my pocket and stretched.

Maru grabbed his bag and got on his feet. “Okay, then. See you.”

“I guess it’ll be next year by then, so have a happy New Year.”

“Yeah, no reason to meet up during the break. Happy New Year, Asamura.”

Maru turned around and waved on his way out.

After watching him head off to baseball practice, I glanced around the classroom again. Half the students had already left.

Maybe I’ll stop by a bookstore on my way home.

I felt tired from panicking about Ayase when there was nothing to worry about. Come to think of it, we were supposed to celebrate Christmas as a family today.

The walls in the kitchen were spotless.

I wasn’t the only one to contribute, however. Akiko had taken the day off and declared she’d start her end-of-the-year cleaning early. Ayase and I had then volunteered to help.

Since Dad and I hadn’t cooked much before Ayase and Akiko moved in, the kitchen wasn’t all that dirty. It took the three of us about two hours to finish cleaning it.

We took a snack break around three in the afternoon, and then Akiko made an announcement.

“Okay, I’ll start making dinner, so, Yuuta, you go and get some rest.”

She said she wanted to cook with her daughter since it had been a while, then she kicked me out of the kitchen. Left with no other choice, I headed to my room. I pulled the book I’d bought on the way home out of my bag, opened it to the first page, and started reading.

By the time I looked up again, the room around me had grown dark. The sun had already set. Soaking in the afterglow of my book, I exhaled.

That was really good.

I’d finished the book in no time. It was a hardcover—the first volume of a foreign science fiction work—and I’d read it in only a few hours. I felt like I was still drifting in space, grappling with some huge mission. I’d seen on the book flap that they were going to adapt this story into a Hollywood movie, and I now understood why.

As I closed the book, I heard Akiko’s and Ayase’s voices coming from the kitchen. It sounded like they were having fun.

I stepped out of my room and glanced into the kitchen.

Akiko noticed me and called out, “Yuuta! Would you please turn on the TV?”

“The TV?”

“It’d be nice to have some background noise. Find a movie that looks interesting and leave it on.”

“Oh, okay.”

I grabbed the remote and brought up a streaming service. If we were going to keep it running, I figured it would be better to choose a channel dedicated to movies.

“Do you want a Japanese movie? Or something foreign?”

“Foreign. I don’t mind if it’s subtitled, either.”

“…You really just want background noise, huh?”

That said, it’d probably be even better if she could enjoy the dialogue. I found one of the services we paid for and launched the app. Right away, I saw a list of recommendations for Christmas movies.

One of them was a comedy starring a child actor. I’d seen it several times. It’s the story of a kid whose parents leave him at home over the Christmas holiday, and he gets up to all sorts of adventures while they’re away. It must have been well received, because there were several sequels as well. Of course, as was typical of Hollywood films, the sequels were only tenuously related to the original. For example, a married couple might suddenly be divorced in one of the later movies. You couldn’t let your guard down, even with family films.

I started the movie, and the apartment was soon filled with happy voices.

“Thanks, Yuuta!” Akiko called out from the kitchen.

“Um… Can I help you with anything?”

“Work up an appetite.”

“…What?”

Should I exercise or something?

I glanced at Ayase. She was holding a frying pan, humming a cheerful tune. I figured it might be dangerous to distract her, so I left her alone.

“Just call for me if you need any help, okay?”

“Okaaay,” Akiko called out.

I cleaned the bathroom and drew a bath, then returned to the living room, where I sat on the sofa and watched the movie in a daze.

At some point, Ayase finished her share of the cooking and took a seat next to me. She left enough space between us for someone else to sit down, but the configuration reminded me of our time at the movie theater together.

At first, I thought she’d be watching the film, but she soon started flipping through her vocabulary notepad.

For a moment, a confused thought ran through my mind: Was it okay for us to be next to each other like this where Akiko could see?

No, wait. It’s totally normal for a brother and sister to watch TV together. Totally normal.

I was just overthinking it.

I glanced at Ayase and saw that she had her earbuds in. She was listening to something on her smartphone as she flipped through her notes.

We weren’t talking, and she wasn’t watching the movie; she was just there beside me, completely relaxed, as she studied.

“I’m home.”

Dad came home carrying a cardboard box with handles on top.

He’d promised to be home by seven, but it was already half past.

He held the box out to Akiko. “Sorry I’m a little late. I went to pick up the cake I ordered, and the place was absolutely packed.”

“No problem.”

It was a whole cake…maybe twelve—no, fifteen centimeters in diameter. I could tell because I’d considered getting a cake when Ayase and I went out to dinner. In the end, I’d judged that we couldn’t finish a twelve-centimeter cake after eating a whole meal and given up on the idea.

Even if we shared it among the four of us, a fifteen-centimeter cake seemed like a lot…but we were at home. We could save what was left and eat it later. It would probably last at least half a day or so.

“We’ll have this after dinner,” Akiko said with a smile as she opened the refrigerator. As the end of the year approached, our fridge had filled up, and it was now packed. “Yuuta, will you take these over to the table?”

“Okay.”

She handed me beer and nonalcoholic champagne, and I carried them into the dining room. We would also need glasses and a bottle opener.

Akiko pushed the items in the fridge around to make space for the cake, then set it on one of the shelves.

Meanwhile, Ayase begun heating up the food. I spooned rice into bowls and put them on the table.

By the time Dad changed and came back out of his room, dinner was ready to eat.

“Oh my, this looks delicious,” he said.

The highlight of our Christmas dinner was thigh meat roasted with herbs, placed on a platter right at the center of the table. It wasn’t chicken but turkey. Recently, this dish had been becoming more and more popular as a Christmas treat in Japan. I’d heard it was more of a Thanksgiving dish in America, however.

Turkey was less fatty than chicken, and I suspected its rise was part of a trend toward healthy eating. We didn’t have a whole bird, but since they were quite large, the meat piled on the platter was more than enough for four people. Dad had splurged and ordered it online to be precooked and delivered in time for Christmas.

Akiko looked over the table. “I wonder if it would have been more seasonal to make pasta instead of rice.”

We might be having turkey, but we were eating rice and miso soup with it. For a Christmas dinner, it was still very Japanese.

“Well, I think it’s fine, Mom,” Ayase offered. “There’s even a salad. That’s Western-style, right? And we’ve got several kinds of dressing… Which one would you like, Dad?”

“I think I’d like the one with rice vinegar and soy sauce.”

Really getting into the Christmas spirit, I see.

Personally, I didn’t mind having rice and miso soup for Christmas dinner. Still, I couldn’t help wanting to tease them.

“We have pickled cabbage and cucumber, too,” Akiko said. “You like that, right, Taichi?”

“Thanks. I love it.”

“Mom… Wouldn’t Western-style pickles have been—?” Ayase swallowed the word better.

Our parents were happy, so there was no need to push. Or maybe she’d just given up.

Ayase and I exchanged wry smiles and took our seats. It’s the thought that counts, after all.

“Merry Christmas! And happy birthday, Yuuta!”

“Come on, Dad. Couldn’t you wish me a happy birthday first? Even if you’re more excited about Christmas…”

“That’s true. Sorry. Happy birthday, Saki. And Merry Christmas!”

“Thank you.”

“Happy seventeenth to both of you,” Akiko said, looking at each of us in turn.

After that, we had a toast. Dad drank a beer, while the rest of us had nonalcoholic champagne.

Then it was time to eat. As usual, Akiko’s miso soup was delicious. Dad had the right idea—it didn’t matter if the food was Western or Japanese. Either way, it was delicious.

Today’s miso soup contained tofu, finely chopped green onions, and red miso paste. As I took a sip, something occurred to me: Were the ingredients meant to represent Christmas colors? …A Japanese-style Christmas dish, huh? Not bad…

“This sauce is really good,” said Akiko.

“The meat isn’t too tough, either,” Dad agreed. “I think this is a winner.”

They both sounded pleased. It seemed like my taste buds were in line with everyone else’s.

After finishing our meal (I held back considerably since I knew we’d be having dessert), we sipped coffee and cut the cake.

The large cake was topped with a piece of chocolate emblazoned with the words MERRY CHRISTMAS, along with a biscuit shaped like Santa Claus.

Akiko slid a kitchen knife into the creamy icing. I could see bits of red fruit between layers of yellow sponge cake. They must be strawberries. A standard Japanese Christmas cake.

“It’s better to go with tried-and-true option than end up with something disappointing, right?” said Dad.

I agreed, and the four of us dug in, celebrating our first combined Christmas-birthday party as a family.

Dad was delighted that my grades had started improving, and he asked Ayase if she was interested in attending prep school, too.

“If you’re concerned about the tuition—,” he began.

“No, it’s okay. I’m just… I have a feeling I’d get distracted if I started doing too many new things at once.”

It sounded like she was holding back, but Dad didn’t push her.

Thinking back, Ayase had been living alone with her mom until six months ago, and now she was suddenly in an apartment with two men. You couldn’t blame her for having a tough time adjusting.

In addition, Dad and I had never left our home, but Ayase and Akiko had gone through a big move. If I were her, I would have been overwhelmed by all the changes, too.

Wow… It’s already been six months since we met…

“Okay, Saki. But let me know if you ever change your mind, all right?”

“Thanks, Dad.”

When he heard that last part, Dad broke into a smile. He was already well on his way to becoming her doting parent.

“I’m more worried about you, Yuuta,” said Akiko. “You study so much. Are you making time to have fun?”

“What? Aren’t most parents way more concerned about grades? I’d understand if you asked me to study more, but…”

“I’ve never had to worry about that,” said Dad.

It was true—Dad had never once told me to study. But he did check through all the notices I brought back from school. I didn’t remember clearly, but I figured he’d started after my birth mother left us. He always asked to see my report cards, and he’d asked to see my tests, too, all the way through junior high.

He never said anything to me about them, though. He’d just look at the papers and mumble to himself. I felt like a patient watching my doctor check over my X-rays. A few days later, I’d find reference books for all the subjects I’d done badly on sitting casually on my desk. That alone had put a lot of pressure on me.

Once I finished my compulsory education, though, I stopped showing him everything besides my report cards, claiming I had a right to privacy.

“Ever since you were little, you’ve spent all your time reading,” Dad said. “You’re only a student for a little while, so you should make sure to live it up and enjoy yourself.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m enjoying myself in my own way.”

“You are? Well, that makes me happy as your parent… But back to the matter at hand.”

Dad and Akiko looked at each other. Then Akiko stood up and went to their bedroom. She reached behind the door, pulled out a paper bag, and brought it over to the table.

“Here you go. These are presents for the two of you from Taichi and me.”

“Huh? Are these…?” I wondered aloud.

“Books?” Ayase tilted her head.

We both recognized the holiday wrapping paper. We’d both seen it more times than we could count—it was from the bookstore where we worked.

“Can we open them?” I asked.

“Of course.”

Eyeing Dad suspiciously, I tore away the wrapping paper. As I’d thought, it was a book. But it wasn’t just any book…

“Red books?!”

“We thought you’d need them for your college entrance exams. You don’t have any yet, do you?”

“Well, no, not yet.”

Ayase sat next to me, utterly speechless. I knew how she felt.

“Red books” were a familiar sight to anyone who’d taken university entrance exams in Japan. They were called “red books” because of their red covers, and they contained collections of past exam questions for each university’s various departments.

Most students bought such books after first deciding which school they wanted to attend, but the ones our parents had purchased were for the standard exams. They’d gotten us each a set of five, mostly for our problem subjects.

Frankly, I appreciated the gift. If I’d bought them myself, it would have cost me the equivalent of at least three hardcover books. I was genuinely grateful to my parents for contributing to my studies. It was just that…

“…These don’t really feel like a birthday present.”

“Once you come of age, we won’t say anything about how you live your life, but since you seem to be planning on going to college, we thought we’d help you out.”

“Good luck,” Akiko said with a smile.

“Thank you. I’ll do my best.” Ayase bowed.

Ayase and I were a bit deflated after this unexpectedly practical present, and we didn’t stop to think about why Dad and Akiko kept exchanging meaningful glances.

Meanwhile, on the TV, a child successfully thwarted a burglar and let out a loud cheer.

That night, I was in bed asleep when a slight noise woke me up.

I opened my eyes in the dark but didn’t see anything unusual. To tell the truth, I couldn’t see much of anything.

I grabbed my phone, still connected to its charger, and checked the time.

It was 12:38 AM. I hadn’t been asleep for long, and the next day was the start of winter break, so I didn’t have to worry too much about losing sleep.

Turning the phone over, I used its display to illuminate the door. In front of it, I saw a small box that hadn’t been there before.

What could it be?

It was too far away to reach. I’d have to get out of bed to look at it…but in the end, curiosity won out.

Shivering as I peeled off the covers, I wrapped my arms around my body. I turned off the heater when I went to bed, and I regretted stepping out into the cold.

By the door, I stooped over and picked up the box, then carried it back to my bed and turned on my bedside lamp.

When I retrieved it, I’d noticed it had a ribbon around it, and I could see it was wrapped up in Christmas-colored paper. It was clearly a gift.

Santa Claus? The thought crossed my mind briefly, then I dismissed it. No way. I’m not a kid.

It had been years since anyone had given me a present in secret like this.

This must be my real present, huh?

Getting a set of red books as a combined Christmas-birthday present had come as quite a surprise. While I’d been grateful, part of me had been a little disappointed. Now it occurred to me: They must have been a red herring to make our real gifts more of a surprise.

It seemed a bit mischievous for Dad. Could this be Akiko’s influence?

I wondered if Ayase had received something, too.

I peeled off the wrapping paper and pulled out the gift. As I did, something fluttered to the floor.

“…A note?”

A note, too? This is way too fancy.

I’d assumed it would be a simple Merry Christmas or Happy Birthday, but it turned out to be pretty lengthy. I sat down on the edge of my bed and took my time reading it.

It began, “Dear Yuuta. You’ll be coming of age next year.”

Dad had written that my gift was a thank-you for everything I’d done for him and Akiko, and a celebration of my becoming an adult. He figured next year would be really hectic for me, so he’d decided to give it to me early.

“I guess I’ll be pretty busy with entrance exams and all…”

For a high school senior, the end of the year was when the pressure really amped up, and you started to get stomach cramps. He must have wanted to avoid adding to my stress.

I set down the letter and examined what was in the box.

“It’s a watch… And wow…”

I wasn’t very familiar with brand names, but even I recognized this one. You rarely saw high school students wearing anything this nice. Secondhand or not, it must have been expensive. I would have never been able to afford it. It felt like something you got to commemorate your first real job. Wasn’t this a little early?

“Dear Yuuta. You’ll be coming of age next year.”

Now that I’d seen the gift, the message seemed to take on more weight. Next year, I would be eighteen. Old enough to get married and start living on my own. Until this moment, I hadn’t even thought about such things.

Soon, I’d enter society and join the workforce. It still didn’t feel real to me. If things went smoothly and I got into college, I’d be getting a job in five or six years. Hold on. It’s not so easy to get a job these days. I’d be lucky to find work, and if I couldn’t support myself, I couldn’t live on my own or get married…

I shook my head and tried to clear out my thoughts. There was no need to dwell on what kind of future awaited me.

I took the watch out of the box and put it on. The brand-new silver belt looked green in the dim light.

It wasn’t as heavy as I’d imagined, and it felt comfortable on my wrist. I was about to undo the clasp and return it to the box when I changed my mind and placed it on my pillow.

One day, I wanted to earn enough to feel good wearing this watch every day. I needed to keep doing my best at all sorts of things.

I pulled up my covers and settled into bed.

Even after I turned off the light, the watch’s silver shine remained in my mind for some time.

December 24 (Thursday)—Saki Ayase

After school ended around noon, I stopped by the supermarket to buy some things Mom had requested—vegetables and seasonings mostly. After that, I headed straight home.

That evening, our family would be having a combined Christmas-birthday party, and Mom had taken the day off to make dinner. I wanted to get home as soon as I could to help out.

I opened the now-familiar door to our apartment and took off my loafers.

“I’m home!”

“You’re back early. Welcome home.”

It was only a little past noon, and Mom was already in the kitchen.

“I’ll help,” I said.

“Oh? I can manage on my own. You relax and get some rest.”

I can’t let you do all the household chores by yourself, Mom. But I kept that thought to myself. Instead, I said, “It’s fine. I’m not tired. Here’s the stuff from the supermarket,” and placed the items I’d bought on the dining table.

“Thanks.”

“I’ll go get changed first. Be right back.”

“So stubborn. I wonder who you take after.”

You, of course. I didn’t say that, either, and dashed off to my room.

Once I was ready, I ran back to the kitchen.

“What are you preparing? What’s the menu for tonight?”

“It’s Christmas, and we’re also celebrating Yuuta’s and your birthday, so it’s a little extravagant. We’re having rice, miso soup, and meat.”

Isn’t that what we usually have?

“Look. Can you believe it? This is the meat!” She opened the fridge triumphantly.

Whoa! That thigh meat is huge! Chunks of it were stuffed into a vacuum-sealed plastic container.

“That isn’t chicken…is it?”

“It’s turkey.”

“Where did you get it?”

Some supermarkets sold duck meat, but turkey was a rarity outside a certain famous theme park. And here it was, giant chunks of it, in our refrigerator.

“Is this precooked?” I asked.

“It would be hard to cook this much meat from scratch. I have recipes for roasting it whole, but that would still take a lot of time and effort… I’d have to thaw it for three days, prepare for it in advance, stuff it, truss it… It’s delicious, but it takes a lot of effort. If I was making it for our customers, I could do the preparations at work, but finding that much time at home would be tough.”

“Y-yeah, that does sound like a hassle.”

“So that’s why we got it preroasted. Taichi bought it online, and it just arrived. We only need to heat it, and we’re all set,” Mom said as she closed the refrigerator door.

“Then we can save the meat for last. Okay… What else?”

“Rice, salad, and miso soup.”

“What? You’re starting now? Isn’t it a little early?”

“No, silly.”

Then what are you doing in the kitchen?

“Hi, Ayase. I see you’re back.”

At the sound of another voice, I turned around to find Asamura coming out of his room.

“Oh, hi.”

“Akiko, you’re up. You’re already starting dinner?”

“Well, I was thinking of cleaning the kitchen first.” She turned to Asamura and pointed at the kitchen.

Oh, right, it’s time for the end-of-the-year cleaning.

“I’ll help,” Asamura said.

I joined in immediately. “I’ll help, too.”

“Oh my. You really don’t need to, but if you insist. Thank you.”

Mom laughed, but I know how tough it can be to clean a kitchen. Stains from oil and grease are difficult to remove once they’ve settled into a surface.

“Oh, but this kitchen’s actually pretty clean,” I muttered as I looked at the walls.

“Well, Dad and I hardly ever used it before you two moved in.”

“Cooking oil was the first thing I bought after we moved in,” Mom said. “You didn’t even have any.”

Of course. You didn’t get grease stains if you didn’t cook with oil. And now that I thought about it, Asamura always looked anxious when I made tempura. He must have never fried anything at home before.

“I was thinking of cleaning the exhaust fan today,” said Akiko. “I think it’ll be a piece of cake this time.”

“It’s usually a lot of work,” I said, thinking back.

Asamura flashed us a wry smile. “I never imagined you could make stuff like tempura at home.”

“Oh, Asamura…of course you can.”

“I know that now.” He chuckled and said he’d like to try it sometime. It could be dangerous for a beginner, though, so I resolved to keep an eye on him.

I guess Mom’s right… It won’t be so bad this year.

We usually had to take out the filter and soak it in the bathtub in detergent, then soak paper towels in cleaning solution and plaster them all over the tiles around the stovetop. Maybe we wouldn’t need to do any of that this year. That would make things easier.

“You see?” said Mom. “It won’t be that hard at all.”

“But if all three of us work together, it’ll be done even faster,” I protested.

Mom sighed. “Okay, let’s get it over quickly so we can start preparing dinner.”

I nodded, and so did Asamura.

We finished cleaning the kitchen in a couple of hours.

After taking a snack break, Mom and I began preparing dinner. She turned down Asamura’s offer to help, saying it had been a while since she’d cooked with me. After that, he reluctantly went back to his room.

About two hours later, we finished making the miso soup and salad.

It wasn’t particularly seasonal, and I thought it seemed rather light. But Mom told me that Dad was buying a Christmas cake on his way home.

A cake after dinner?! I’m definitely gonna gain a few pounds… In that case, a light meal made sense.

After that, Mom grabbed the cabbage and cucumbers I’d gotten from the store. She sliced them up, put them in a plastic bag, and began shaking it. It looked like she was pickling them.

Isn’t today Christmas? I guess it’s also a birthday celebration… Still, a pickled side dish for a birthday party? Isn’t that a little strange?

“What’s the matter, Saki? Your face looks all weird.”

“I must have inherited it from you.”

“Then maybe you’ll meet a cool guy like Taichi one day, just like I did.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

After divorcing my birth father, Mom had been reluctant to get married again. Maybe she had just been more cautious. Things were different now, but I didn’t remember her ever talking about men or dating at home when I was growing up. Maybe she’d stopped dating entirely.

She’d had a bad experience with my birth father, and she must have seen a lot of sloppy, drunken men at work. Maybe she’d become more distrustful of men.

After she decided to get remarried, she’d only brought up my birth father once. We’d been reflecting on the past, when she finally said, “It’s hard to get along with other people.”

She’d taken off work and was drinking at home. I recalled thinking it was very unusual for her as I silently watched her swish around the liquid, making the ice clink against the glass.

“It didn’t work out between the two of us. But maybe there’s someone out there who really needs him.”

“You think so?”

“That’s life. Nobody is a perfect match for everyone. You know what young people say about liking different teen idols, right?”

I’d never heard that before.

“So this, uh…Mr. Asamura, was it? Are you sure you’ll get along with him?” I asked.

“I think so. For now, at least.”

“For now…? Are you really sure you want to marry him, then?”

“I’m not confident enough to say we’ll be fine forever. I thought it’d be fine last time, and it wasn’t. But I think it will last at least until you get married and join some young man’s family or he joins ours.”

What was she going to do if neither of those things happened?

“What made you decide to get married again?”

“Maybe because he and I have experienced the same pain.”

“Oh… So it’s Mr. Asamura’s second marriage, too?”

“Yep. At the very least, I don’t think the same thing will happen again, though that might be wishful thinking. But if you want to change your life, even a little, you have to keep moving forward, even if it isn’t clear what lies ahead.”

Is that how life is? I wondered. It felt like we were talking about other people’s lives, not our own.

What was marriage about anyway? I had never seriously thought about it, and since I’d never experienced it, I certainly couldn’t see it from Mom’s perspective.

But despite my inexperience, I had a vision of who I wanted to be. I wanted to earn enough money to live without a husband and build the strength to survive on my own.

“Oh, yes. I hope you can call Taichi ‘Dad.’”

That took me by surprise, and I had a hard time registering what she meant.

Dad.

Was she trying to lessen the psychological burden on her new husband? It couldn’t be easy to suddenly have a new teenage daughter.

“If you don’t, it might get confusing.”

Apparently not.

“Confusing?”

“Because Yuuta’s an Asamura, too. We wouldn’t know which one you were talking about.”

“Yuuta? Who’s that?”

“Oh? Didn’t I tell you? Yuuta Asamura is Mr. Asamura’s son.”

“He has…a child?”

“He’s sixteen, the same age as you. Your birthdays are close together, but Yuuta’s is a little earlier, so he’ll be your older brother. You can call him Big Brother or something if you’d like. But since you’re only a week apart, you’ll be more like twins.”

Twins? I’d never heard of twins who weren’t related by blood.

“You definitely didn’t tell me.”

“Well, I’m telling you now. You’ll meet him later this week. Since they’re both Asamura, you can either call him by his first name or call Taichi Dad. Give it some thought, okay?”

I didn’t remember much after that.

I think we kept chatting until it was time to go to bed. Whatever the case, I was in a daze after suddenly learning that I’d have an elder brother. And I’d be meeting him that same week! I wished Mom had given me more advance warning.

“At least I didn’t wait until the very last minute to tell you.”

“That’s the bare minimum!” I shouted back.

Six months had passed since then.

If I asked Mom if she and Dad were doing all right, I had a feeling she’d probably smile and say, “Yeah, for now,” again.

Their silly lovebird behavior wouldn’t last forever. Mom knew that, and she was prepared.

Still, I thought Dad was a good match for her. It was hard to describe how, but I felt like she’d let down her guard a little since she met him.

As her daughter, I was grateful that she’d finally started to relax. I no longer had to worry about her pushing herself to collapse.

Mom and my birth father hadn’t been a good match. Even after a decade of living together, they never learned to compromise. Dad had a vision of the wife he wanted, and Mom just couldn’t live up to it.

Mom and I continued fixing dinner and chatting about this and that. Dad would be home soon.

Just then, Asamura opened his door. He’d been awfully quiet, so I figured he’d been sleeping or had his nose in a book. He sure loved to read.

“Yuuta!” Mom called out to him. “Would you please turn on the TV?”

“The TV?”

She had him put on a movie to provide some background noise. I couldn’t see the screen from where I stood in the kitchen, but I heard the cheerful voice of a young boy and a seasonal tune, so it was probably a Christmas movie.

Asamura sat down on the living room sofa and started watching the film. I could see his profile from the kitchen, and it reminded me of the first time we met.

I’d made up an idea of who I thought Yuuta Asamura was and gotten really nervous. But when I met him, he’d ripped that image to shreds. As our parents nervously looked on, he’d assured me with his words that he wouldn’t make up any ideas about who I was and expect me to live up to them. That had reassured me immensely.

This was a boy who didn’t expect others to act a certain way. When I realized that, I decided to say something back to him.

“I won’t expect anything from you, and I don’t want you to expect anything from me.”

That was the moment Asamura entered my field of vision, and he’d been there ever since.

Once we were mostly done fixing dinner, Mom told me to sit down and relax.

I removed my apron. Now what?

I went back to my room and saw my vocabulary notepad tossed on top of my desk.

With school out, I didn’t have any homework, and it was too close to dinner to start studying for my college entrance exams. I’d barely have time to begin before we had to eat. About the only thing I could do was to look over my vocabulary notepad.

I plugged my earbuds into my cell phone and put on some lofi hip-hop. Quiet music, like the sound of the rain, started whispering in my ear.

With my vocabulary notepad in hand, I headed back into the living room.

A Christmas movie was playing on the TV, but the words didn’t distract me since I had my earbuds in. And out here, I’d be able to tell right away when Dad got home.

I sat next to Asamura and began flipping through my notebook.

To bounce… “To leap, to spring back”… Okay, I got that one right.

Concern… “To relate to.” Oh, that one also means “worry about something,” doesn’t it?

I stopped flipping through the pages and paused to think.

That’s right. I’d looked up the difference between worry and concern in the dictionary before. Concern had a more positive nuance. You might take steps to prevent something you were concerned about.

It was important to be proactive instead of simply worrying. I didn’t know if we needed to study stuff like that, but I found it interesting.

Consider… What was that again? Hmm… Was it “to think about something”?

The pages of my notebook created a pleasant rhythm as I flipped through them.

I continued to study as Asamura watched the movie by my side.

I woke up suddenly in the middle of the night, unsure of the reason.

Because the lights were off in my room, I must have noticed the pale night-light in the living room leak in through the doorway. It stretched out in a thin vertical line across the darkness.

The door was open.

“I thought I closed it…,” I said to myself, sitting up in bed.

I turned on my bedside lamp and noticed the faint silhouette of a small box by the door.

“Did Santa Claus stop by…?”

Back when I was in elementary school, I’d pretended to believe in Santa Claus and acted surprised by the presents he brought me. But the next morning, I said, “Thanks, Mom,” and Santa never came again.

I got out from under the covers, put on a cardigan, and went to pick up the gift-wrapped box.

It wasn’t very big—it fit in the palm of my hands. I undid the ribbon and peeled off the wrapping paper. Inside was a letter from Mom and a small white box.

It began, “Dear Saki.”

In her characteristic rounded handwriting, Mom expressed her gratitude for my constant support and her concern about my overeagerness to help. It felt a little embarrassing to read such a serious note from my mother. I’d been trying to remain somewhat detached, but when I got to the part about my present, I found myself unconsciously straightening up.

I opened the box and found a bracelet from a famous jewelry brand.

“Knowing you,” the letter continued, “I imagine you’re planning to strike out on your own after high school.”

My heart skipped a beat. I had never said anything to her, but Mom had seen right through me.

“When that happens, I doubt you’d even ask your own mother for money. You’re stubborn like that, after all.”

“Well, I’m your daughter…,” I mumbled.

I looked at the silver bracelet in my hand, then back at the letter again.

“So I’m giving you this gift. I’m sure you’ll be busy with your exams next year, so I wanted you to have it now. If you ever need to, you can sell it. It should get you enough money to keep going for a month or so. And in the meantime, I want you to ask someone for help.”

She was even aware of how bad I was at relying on others.

“What kind of person hands you a gift and then tells you how much it will sell for…?”

I guess the answer was my mom.

In her letter, Mom apologized for giving me something a little too expensive for a high school student to wear but insisted that I indulge her and accept it.

I sighed. She knew that if she said that, I wouldn’t be able to return it to her.

I put on the bracelet, then removed it and gently placed it on my bed. It glinted silver in the dim light of my room, and I pointed at it.

“I won’t be intimidated by something that will only tide me over for a month. Someday, I’ll return Mom’s investment tenfold.”

I was only mumbling, a far cry from a firm declaration. Maybe this was more like a prayer. When I was done, I put the bracelet back in its box.

I would never dream of selling it. Instead, I decided to wear it when I went out with the person I loved.

I set the box by my pillow with the top open so I could still see the bracelet inside. Then I crawled back under the covers.

“Thanks, Mom,” I mumbled.

I gave the gift one more look, then closed my eyes. The tiny silver rings still glowed in my mind’s eye.

Could those tiny rings be like the halos above the heads of angels? Wait, I think those are gold. I decided not to sweat the details and drifted off to sleep, mulling over silly fantasies.

Images of the people I loved floated in and out of my mind and then disappeared.

Merry Christmas. May all of you be filled with happiness and joy.

December 31 (Thursday)—Yuuta Asamura

My breath was white under the gray sky, and the cold air stung my cheeks.

It was a little past six in the morning. The eastern sky was gradually brightening, but it was still dark out.

The fact that we had to leave so early in the morning reminded me that Nagano was quite far from our apartment in Tokyo. The bullet train could get you as far as Karuizawa, the famous tourist resort town, but Dad’s hometown was tucked away in the mountains.

We were only staying for two nights, but things had gotten hectic just before we headed out. The whole family had been running around the apartment, saying they’d forgotten this or didn’t have enough of that.

It had been a while since I’d seen such chaos in our household. The last time was probably when Ayase and Akiko moved in. Back then, we’d also gone over the whole apartment, checking various things.

Actually, that had been a lot crazier than now, but it was the first time we were all going on a trip together, and the commotion was novel and refreshing.

Akiko was the most stressed out of everyone. She and Dad hadn’t had a wedding, so this would be the first time she’d be meeting most of his relatives. She’d already met his parents (my grandparents), of course, but only for a single dinner.

Marriage between an adult man and woman required only the two parties’ mutual consent. Even their parents couldn’t object. So if my dad’s family decided they didn’t approve of her now, she didn’t have to pay them any mind. Our parents’ union had already been decided under the law.

But in reality, such things did matter. It was harder to cut ties with relatives than with mere acquaintances. If they didn’t like you, it would be a source of stress. And that was true whether it was your grandparents, your cousins, your parents…or even your stepsister. They might hate you, but it was difficult to avoid them entirely.

Akiko would be leaving her home turf for foreign ground, so she’d prepared for the trip very carefully. She didn’t want to lose before she even started fighting. The battle had already begun, as it were, and she was headed into enemy territory to begin the siege.

We were bringing all the travel essentials—our wallets, snacks and drinks for the trip, and extra clothes and toiletries. But more important were the gifts we’d prepared for Dad’s relatives. We had three boxes of sweets—enough for three households—stuffed in a large suitcase so we wouldn’t forget them.

Akiko was staring at a list and checking our luggage. I took a peek and saw mention of New Year’s money for the children, along with names and how much she and Dad would be giving them.

Akiko had been working in hospitality for a long time, so she was a pro at stuff like this. She’d probably asked Dad for the names of all his relatives’ children who we were likely to meet. I was reminded that being mindful of others and planning ahead were important social skills for adults. If you kept those around you happy, it would give you more freedom down the line. You had to grease the wheels, as it were.

I couldn’t imagine being expected to do stuff like that after I got married. I could feel my body start to ache just thinking about it. I loved my cousins, but that didn’t make it any less of a pain. I wished someone would develop a program or something that could automatically send an avatar to attend ceremonial occasions like weddings and funerals in my place.

As I entertained these silly thoughts, I continued to pack.

I wasn’t taking that much. All I had was a single sports bag. I didn’t need to bring many changes of clothes, and the only thing I couldn’t afford to forget was my homework. When I was younger, I’d get restless if I didn’t take at least four books. But these days, I could read whatever I wanted on my phone. Hooray for progress!

“Okay, guys, let’s get going.”

At Dad’s words, we headed out to the apartment’s parking lot.

Once we were outside, he continued, “This is the first time the four of us are going on a trip together.”

Akiko nodded. “Yeah, now that you mention it.”

Since we lived in Tokyo, we rarely traveled by car. This would be our first time taking a drive as a family.

“It’ll be my first time experiencing Dad’s driving,” said Ayase.

“Don’t worry, he’s a safe driver,” Akiko assured her. Apparently, he’d driven Akiko around before.

By the time we headed out, the sky was halfway between dark and light. Resisting the desire to go back to sleep, I settled into my seat in the car. We’d put on the snow tires since we were headed to Nagano in the winter.

The trip along the Kan-Etsu and Joshin-Etsu Expressways took four hours even without accounting for snow and traffic, and at this time of year, we were bound to have both. We were leaving quite early, but it would still take us until the afternoon to reach our destination. We couldn’t afford to sleep in.

“Next year, I imagine it will be just Akiko and me taking this trip, since you two will be busy studying. And once you get into college, you’ll have other things to do. It might be difficult for us to go somewhere all together like this again. That’s why I wanted the four of us to go this year. But I hope it’s not too boring for you out in the middle of nowhere…”

Akiko agreed with Dad, sounding sentimental. “I can’t believe it’s almost time for your college entrance exams. My, how time flies.”

Dad’s words had caught me off guard. Could this really be our last trip together as a family? As I fastened my seat belt, I thought about it.

Our last family trip.

I glanced at my stepsister in the seat next to mine. She had her earbuds in, and she was looking out the window at the brightening scenery. Perhaps noticing my gaze, she removed one of her earbuds and shot me a questioning look. Her medium-length hair spilled over her shoulder.

“What is it?” she asked.

My heart skipped a beat. “Oh, uh… We had to get up pretty early. Are you okay? You aren’t sleepy?”

“Um… Well, maybe a little.”

Dad heard us and said from the driver’s seat, “You can sleep if you want, Saki.”

“Thank you. But I think I’m good.”

She put her earbud back in and waded into a sea of music. She was looking out the window, not at me. Our elbows were almost touching, and yet it felt like she was out of reach. It made me a little sad.

Come on, settle down. This is how we’re supposed to act.

Ayase and I were high school–aged siblings living with our parents. We couldn’t do anything that went beyond the boundaries of brother and sister or even act like we wanted to.

With the car doors closed, the sound of the tires against the road’s surface was so muted that it didn’t bother me. The gentle jostling of my seat was like pink noise, lulling me to sleep.

My eyelids gradually grew heavier, and I started to doze. Occasionally, I’d chat with Akiko or Dad to keep myself awake.

We ran into some traffic jams along the way, but eventually, we reached the Oizumi Junction and transferred onto the Kan-Etsu Expressway. From there, we continued north through Saitama Prefecture.

Dad and Akiko did most of the talking. They didn’t discuss anything special—just trivial things in their daily lives, like Akiko’s cooking. Dad would comment on the dishes he’d found particularly delicious, and then Akiko would promise to make them again. It was no different from what they talked about at home.

I’d add a comment now and then, but I wasn’t really participating. Even so, I could tell Akiko was still really nervous. I figured Dad had noticed, too. It appeared everything I’d heard about anxious second wives was true.

Worried about the relatives, huh?

If Ayase and I went public with our relationship, what would be the least awkward way to break it to our parents? Realistically, we’d still have to live with them until we finished high school. That meant we’d have to face them every morning… Having an awkward relationship with people you had to see on a daily basis sounded really rough. I didn’t even want to think about it. Despite that, I had no desire to break off my relationship with Ayase, either.

Could you really give up someone so easily once you were in love? Of course, if she started hating me, I wouldn’t have a choice…

At that point, a possibility I’d never considered occurred to me. What if my relationship with Ayase suddenly came to an end? We’d still be siblings… That connection would continue, even if we married other people in the future.

I was her elder brother, and she was my younger sister. That was a fact, and that was how our relatives on both sides would see us, unless Dad and Akiko split up.

What am I thinking now? I don’t want that to happen.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts.

“What’s the matter, Yuuta?” asked Dad. “Are you carsick?”

“No, I just remembered something unpleasant.”

“Did you forget to bring your homework?”

“…No, I remembered to pack it.”

Does he think the worst thing I could be remembering is homework…? Well, there’s no way he’d guess it was about love, I suppose.

And between his son and his stepdaughter of all people.

I sighed again, fully aware he’d probably misinterpret the action.

Ayase was still gazing out at the scenery. It was now fully light outside, and the landscape around us had gradually changed from a forest of high-rises to the open country.

Bare trees and rice paddies lined both sides of the expressway. In the summer, this would all be a bright green. But at this time of year, everything was black and brown. I could see snow-covered mountains in the distance.

After driving for two hours, we took a break at a rest stop.

Continuing north, we saw the brown landscape begin to take on patches of white.

“There’s snow on the ground,” said Dad.

“It’s not just on the ground. It’s really piling up!” Akiko replied.

“Well, we are in Nagano.”

“Akiko, is this your first time visiting Nagano in winter?” I asked.

“I came here to ski once when I was young.”

“So you can ski?”

“Only if you count rolling to the bottom of the hill.”

I don’t think that counts…

“How about you, Taichi?” she asked. “Do you ski?”

“Me? Of course. I was a local until I moved away for college.”

“I didn’t know you could ski, Dad…”

What a surprise.

Our drive had us passing in and out of tunnel after tunnel. Every time, the scenery on the other side seemed quieter and more deserted.

Villages up in the mountains were sparsely populated, with few houses and lots of space between them. Most of the buildings were only one story tall.

After driving through yet another long tunnel, Dad made an announcement.

“Once we pass Saku, we’ll be in Komoro.”

We were currently on the Joshin-Etsu Expressway. It would meet back up with the Hokuriku bullet train line again at the Saku Interchange, just past Karuizawa. After that, we’d be in Komoro, then Nagano. Dad’s hometown was beyond that, deep in the mountains. I doubt most people will recognize all these place names, and to be honest, I hadn’t memorized them, either. But Dad kept explaining each one for Akiko, so I was reminded of them as we passed through.

I glanced over at Ayase and saw that she was sitting up, staring out the window even more intently than before.

“Did something catch your attention?” I asked.

She turned around as if she’d only just noticed I was sitting next to her. “Oh, um, nothing in particular. It’s… Well, look over there.”

She pointed out the right window. I nodded and looked in the direction she’d indicated.

Across the road was a single-story house with a tiled roof among an expanse of snow-covered rice paddies. It stood alone at the foot of the mountains, extra visible in the sea of white.

“That old house?” I asked.

“Yeah. It looks ancient. Is that what they call a kominka? You know, the more traditional-style houses.”

“Yeah.”

If I remembered correctly, that specific term referred to any house that was over fifty years old. When most people heard the word, they thought of historic buildings, but by that definition, any house from the early seventies or before would count. That was a quarter century after the end of World War II. In other words, they were old houses, but they could still be relatively modern by historical standards.

“That house is probably pretty ancient even by kominka standards,” I said.

Moments later, the scenery changed again to an expanse of bare trees. But among them, we could still see a few houses of similar construction on either side of the road.

“Look, over there. I think that house is even older.”

“I can see a satellite dish sticking out of it, though.”

“A satellite dish? …You sure are observant.”

“We’re probably just focused on different things.”

A white parabolic antenna was sticking out one of the windows, bringing in satellite signals from thirty-six thousand kilometers above.

Dad overheard our conversation and joined in. “This area is surrounded by mountains. Phones sometimes don’t work out there. And if you want to watch TV, you’ve gotta rely on cable or satellite.”

I nodded.

“Takes away some of the charm, admittedly,” he added.

“I guess you’d want those things if you lived out here, though,” said Ayase.

“True. I remember it was really hard to get an internet connection when I was young. Now it’s almost the same as in the city.”

“I figured.”

“Do you like old houses like that?” I asked, and Ayase nodded.

“I like to look at old buildings that are still in their original state. Like historic houses, shrines, and temples.”

“Castles, too?”

“Yep. And stone walls.”

“Stone walls? …Just the walls?”

Ayase nodded. For some reason, she seemed a little happy.

“With some old castles, the main structure has been lost, and only part of it remains. It might be just the walls, the moat, some pillars, or the base where the pillars once stood.”

“Is that interesting to look at?”

“Yeah, it is. It’s said that you can tell to some extent the period in which the structure was built by the way they piled the stones. People who know what they’re doing can learn all sorts of things just from the walls. When I learned that, I was so impressed. It’s like they can see something even after it’s gone.”

“I didn’t know there were different ways of stacking stones.”

“You didn’t? Wasn’t it in our textbooks? …Maybe not. I tend to remember things like that from checking out photo collections and videos.”

“They have videos about that stuff?”

“Sure. Try searching Japanese castles, and you’ll find tons of them. I don’t watch many videos, but I’ve always been fond of those.”

“Are you a Japanese history buff, then?”

She nodded.

I recalled that Ayase had gotten a 100 on her Japanese History test both times. Maybe I should have expected her to know things like this. So she likes history…

Ayase gazed out the window again and murmured, “That’s why I like looking at houses like that. Old buildings carry lots of memories. I knew I’d spot some out here, so I was pretty excited.”

I could understand why. We didn’t see many houses like that back in Shibuya.

Nagano, however… Come to think of it, this area came up in a poem by Toson Shimazaki that I’d seen in one of our textbooks.

By the ancient castle at Komoro

Clouds are white; the traveler sorrowful.

For just a moment, the monochrome scene outside the window looked like a faded, sepia-toned photograph.

We drove on, and even the scattered houses disappeared into the snowy landscape. We passed through Komoro into Nagano City and then got off the expressway. From there, we drove farther into the mountains, along endlessly curving roads, until we finally reached a wide basin.

A large one-story house came into view. It didn’t have a parking lot, but there was a spacious yard out front. The snow had been shoveled away, and the soil was visible.

Dad parked in a corner of the yard.

“We’re here,” he declared.

Everyone got out of the car. The cold air made me shiver. The surrounding area was still covered in snow, and our feet would have sunk into the piles of white if the yard hadn’t been cleared. My breath came out white, and my cheeks ached from the cold. The air was thin.

“The garden is huge,” Ayase said as she stepped out of the car and stretched.

“I’m not sure you could call it a garden. It’s just some undeveloped land. We’ve got a lot of land, if nothing else.”

“It’s a fine house.” Ayase gazed up at the traditional structure.

“Well, it sure is old,” Dad said. “I heard my grandfather built it.”

The building, with its tiled roof, was easily over fifty years old. It was definitely the type Ayase had said she liked.

“Wow…”

“The inside has been renovated, so it shouldn’t be too inconvenient. All right, Saki. Akiko. Let’s go inside. It’s cold out here.”

“Okay, Taichi.”

“Dad, I’ll take the bags,” I said.

“Let’s all take a few,” he replied.

Dad and I grabbed the heavy bags, and he led the way to the front door. Akiko walked next to him, looking more anxious than ever, and Ayase and I followed them side by side.

We had left close to dawn, and now the sun was already tilting toward the west. I could see Ayase’s breath in the frozen air as she stared at the house where my dad had grown up.

“I like to look at old buildings.”

“Old buildings carry lots of memories.”

I wondered what Ayase would find in Dad’s old house.

Dad opened the front door and shouted toward the back of the house. “I’m home!”

Every time I heard him say that, I was reminded that this was where he was born and raised.

Someone shouted back, and we heard footsteps approaching.

It was Dad’s mother—my grandmother.

“Welcome back, Taichi. Kanae and the others just arrived.”

She gave him a warm smile. Her back was straight and her voice vibrant, despite her age. I was relieved to see that she still hadn’t changed.

Dad nodded, and Akiko bowed at his side.

“Hello, Mrs. Asamura,” she said.

“Yes, hello. It’s been a while, Akiko.”

At the older woman’s smile, Akiko’s expression loosened up. Then she put her hand around Ayase’s shoulders and introduced her.

“Um… This is my daughter, Saki.”

“Hello.” Ayase took a step forward and bowed deeply.

When Dad and Akiko went to dinner with my grandparents, it’d been a weekday, so Ayase and I had to sit it out. Ayase was meeting my grandmother for the first time.

“Saki, welcome,” she said. “I’ve been wanting to see you.”

“It’s nice to meet you.”

“Come on in and make yourself at home. Everyone’s in the living room. I’ll prepare tea.”

“Oh, I’ll help,” Akiko said.

My grandmother looked lost for a moment, then she said, “Yes, all right. But first, let me show you to your rooms.”

“Thank you.”

We took off our shoes at the front door, and my grandmother led us down the wooden hallway. I’d visited this house many times in the past and knew where everything was, but I didn’t mind.

As we stepped inside the house, Ayase murmured, “They have a tataki…”

She sounded almost moved, looking at the hard-packed earth below us. I shot her a confused look, unsure why it was such a big deal. Then it occurred to me. Maybe she’d never seen a room like this before. Or maybe she’d seen it, but this was her first time entering one in person.

Japanese houses aren’t built directly on the ground. The floor is elevated slightly to create space for air to flow through. Otherwise, wooden structures would quickly rot in the humidity.

Because of that, this house’s floor was raised off the ground. In old houses, you step up to enter the main building, and only the entrance area, where people take off their shoes, is at ground level. This part of the house is called the doma, which means “dirt room,” and the floor is made of hard-packed earth. If it’s hardened with plaster, it’s called a tataki.

At that point, something occurred to me. Maybe Ayase knew a lot more about this stuff than I did. After all, she’d gotten a perfect score in Japanese History. As she proceeded down the hallway, her eyes scanned everything that came into view.

Not far from the entrance, the hallway split in two directions—left and right. The kitchen was to the left, but my grandmother turned right.

From there, the hallway transitioned into an open, veranda-like corridor. The shutters had been moved aside, and we could see out into the garden. It looked like a veranda right now, but once the shutters were closed, it would turn back into a typical hallway. The passage was flooded with light from the afternoon sun.

“This is huge…,” Ayase muttered.

To our left, behind sliding paper doors, were three rooms facing the hallway. The first was my grandparents’ bedroom. The middle one served as the living room, and the one at the far end was used by my dad’s elder brother and his wife. Dad was the family’s second son.

We couldn’t see them from here, but there were three more rooms in the back (on the north side), which served as guest rooms.

A hearty laugh erupted from behind the paper doors.

“Oh my. Sounds like they’re having a good time.” Grandmother put on a wry smile and slid open the door.

Inside was a large Japanese-style room. The Asamura clan was already gathered, with my grandfather, Dad’s elder brother (my uncle), and a bunch of our other relatives sitting in a circle. With so many people crowding inside, the room looked small, but it was ten tatami mats wide, or about seventeen square meters. Drinks and snacks were piled atop two low tables.

“Taichi is here,” my grandmother announced.

“Ah! Finally. Tokyo is so far away.” An old man greeted my dad loudly and stood up. This was my grandfather. His forehead seemed wider than before, and his hair was now completely white. But his cheerful voice was the same as ever. “Akiko, we haven’t seen you in a while. How have you been?”

“I’ve been well, thank you.”

All eyes were on Akiko as she bowed.

Whoa. Talk about pressure.

Of the people present, she only knew my grandparents. She was meeting seven people for the first time: my uncle, his wife, and his son; plus my aunt, her husband, and her two children.

…Huh? Isn’t there someone extra? There was a woman in the room I didn’t recognize.

Grandmother intervened and said, “Okay, okay, we’ll talk later. Akiko and Taichi are exhausted after their long trip, so let me show them to their room.”

“Y-yeah,” I said.

I was curious about the unfamiliar woman, but after a brief greeting, Grandmother quickly took us out into the hallway and circled around to the back of the house.

“You can use this room this year. I’ve prepared the bedding for you.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

She’d shown us to a large room about eight tatami mats wide, or thirteen square meters. Inside were four futons pushed into one corner. The scent of tatami was powerful. The room must lay unused most of the time.

This was where we’d be sleeping for the next few days.

What? Here? All four of us? My heart did a somersault when I realized we’d be sharing a room. Does that mean I’ll be sleeping in the same room as Ayase?

“I’m sorry,” Grandmother began. “We weren’t able to prepare a separate room for the children this year. You see—”

But she was quickly interrupted by someone on the other side of the sliding door. It was my cousin Kousuke.

My father called out for him to come in, and the door slid open.

Kousuke was eight years my senior. He’d graduated from college the previous year and was now a full-fledged adult with a job.

He was standing outside the door with a woman—the unfamiliar person I’d noticed in the living room. She looked to be around Kousuke’s age and had a gentle disposition.

“Hey, Kousuke,” said my dad. “What’s up?”

“Oh, well, um, I’d like to introduce you to someone…” He gestured toward the woman next to him. She bowed, and her long hair spilled over her shoulders.

Kousuke introduced her as Nagisa and shyly explained that they’d gotten married.

“Really?! Well, congratulations!”

Kousuke grinned.

I was stunned. He hadn’t said anything about having a girlfriend when I saw him last year.

He said Nagisa was a year younger than him and that they’d met at a club while attending university. In that case, they must have been dating for at least three years…

But is it really that weird? Kousuke was eight years older than me. He’d finished college two whole years ago and was already a working adult. Why would someone like that be chatting about his love life with a cousin eight years his junior?

My father called Akiko and Ayase over and introduced them. Everyone exchanged greetings. Then Kousuke glanced from Ayase to me.

“So, Yuuta, you have a younger sister now.”

“Um, yeah.”

“Wow. For a minute, I thought you’d gotten married, too.”

I knew he was kidding, but for a moment, my mind went blank. Ayase and me…married?

“Of course not,” I managed. “I’m still in high school. It’s way too early for me to get married.” I didn’t think I sounded flustered. I wished he hadn’t said that with everyone else watching.

Now that I thought of it, Kousuke had always liked to tease me.

“Of course, I was just joking.”

“I know.”

…So Kousuke’s married now…

It felt like my cousin had suddenly grown up.

“I didn’t know you were in a club at university,” I said as I pushed our luggage into a corner of the room.

Dad had gone to the living room to introduce Akiko to the others, and only four of us were still in the room: Ayase, me, Kousuke, and Nagisa.

“It was just a casual thing, but yeah,” he said modestly.

Nagisa instantly followed with “Kou was the best skier in our club.”

They had only recently gotten married, but they were already in sync. Was that excellent chemistry why they’d decided to tie the knot?

“Skiing?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Kousuke replied. “We were in the skiing club. Back here, though, I’m just average.”

“Can everyone in Nagano ski?” Ayase asked, joining the conversation. She didn’t usually insert herself like that, so this was pretty unusual.

“Well, I guess we’re better than people from regions with less snow.”

“So that’s where you and Nagisa met?” I asked.

Kousuke and Nagisa both seemed reluctant to answer. I wonder why. Having an older cousin act so shy around me made me feel embarrassed, too.

“No, uh… Well, yeah, but…”

“Right?”

It seemed like they knew what the other was trying to say, but the rest of us had no idea. I fixed Nagisa with a probing stare, and she finally elaborated:

“I’d been thinking about trying my hand at skiing, and a friend of mine knew Kou could ski and set us up.”

“When my friend dragged me to the cafeteria, I had no idea what he was planning.”

“Our friends worked together, introducing us. They said Kou was a great skier and I should ask him to teach me. But…”

“If I’d known what they were doing, I would’ve acted different.”

“Really?” Nagisa said, narrowing her eyes at him and smiling, calling his bluff.

“How did you act?” I asked.

“Our friends were trying really hard to build him up, but Kou was very curt. He said anyone could ski as well as he could and that all you had to do to go down a hill was keep your balance and let gravity pull you.”

“Ah.”

“He was practically pushing me away.”

“I said I was sorry…,” Kousuke objected.

“We’d just met, and I thought he hated me.”

“If you wanted me to teach you how to ski, you should have said so!”

“So you would have taught anyone who asked?”

“Urk. Th-that isn’t what I meant—”

Nagisa chuckled.

“I’m just not used to being flattered.”

“Kou, you should have more confidence. And besides, your reaction is what got me interested.”

“Really?” I asked, unable to keep myself from butting in.

“Really. I liked how humble he was. It made him seem honest.”

“Um… Thanks.”

“Hee-hee.”

The way they doted on each other was so refreshing. If they’d been dating since they were college sophomores, they must have been together for about six years. That was a pretty long time, and yet they were still as sweet on each other as a new couple.

These past six months, I’d been seeing Dad and Akiko act the same way—as sweet as maple syrup mixed with whipped cream. I thought I’d gotten used to it, but I’d never expected to see that kind of behavior from my cousin. Yet here he was, acting just as silly. Maybe he was even worse. I thought I’d seen it all, but the world was full of surprises. Maybe Akiko and my dad had been holding back while we were around.

“I think I understand…,” came a barely audible whisper.

I didn’t realize Ayase had been leaning forward and listening to the pair. I didn’t know why, but Ayase averted her eyes when I looked at her.

I turned back to face Kousuke and asked, “Was your marriage a sudden decision?”

I wondered why Dad hadn’t known. I thought it was typical to at least tell your relatives when you got married.

“We haven’t had a wedding yet,” Kousuke admitted. He said it would be at least another six months before they had a ceremony, though they had obtained a marriage license, just like Dad and Akiko.

“Are you going to skip the wedding?” I asked.

“Oh, it isn’t like that. We want to have one. Actually, I wasn’t planning to propose to Nagisa until a little later.”

“Huh?”

I couldn’t help glancing at Nagisa. Shouldn’t it bother her that her fiancé wanted to postpone their wedding? But she didn’t seem bothered by it.

“The thing is,” Kousuke began. “Uh… This is something I’ve only told my parents about, but it looks like my job is sending me overseas.”

“Overseas?!”

“Yeah. For about two years.”

“Starting when?”

“Next spring.”

“That’s really soon!”

“It’s not enough time to book a wedding venue or go through any of the other procedures.”

“It’s impossible,” Nagisa said. “…We checked.”

“We were told to book at least six months in advance and that we wouldn’t be able to make a reservation until after this summer.”

“Wow… Is that typical?” I asked.

I’d never really thought about weddings, so naturally, I had no idea. I couldn’t even imagine what it would be like.

“Yeah. Maybe we could find someplace if we weren’t picky. But Kousuke has many relatives, we would need a venue that was reasonably convenient for everyone to get to, and it would have to be on a day when they could make it.”

“And places like that get booked solid. Nagisa’s preferences are also important to consider. It doesn’t matter to a guy whether it’s Japanese-style or Western, but some women want to wear a wedding gown, while others prefer a more traditional white wedding kimono.”

“Are you trying to pin this on me?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. Anyway, it’s impossible to tell how long I’ll be overseas. It could be over two years.”

“And I didn’t want to wait.”

Nagisa looked like a quiet person, but it seemed she was the type to express her feelings clearly. I wondered if that suited Kousuke. He wasn’t very good at reading other people’s minds.

“So we decided that we’d get a marriage license at the very least. She said she wanted to go overseas with me, and my company didn’t say I had to leave my wife behind.”

“So the two of you are going abroad?” I asked. “…When did you get your marriage license?”

“On the twenty-fourth.”

“What? You mean the twenty-fourth of December?”

“Precisely.”

No wonder we hadn’t heard anything.

“We’ve been living together for six months,” Kousuke said, “so all we really did was go through the procedure. But it’s important to remember anniversaries like that, so we picked a special day.”

“Kou forgets things easily,” Nagisa explained. “He even forgets my birthday if I don’t remind him.”

“Come on, I wouldn’t forget your birthday.”

“Oh, no?”

“Have some faith in me, will you?”

I could tell the two of them really got along.

“So anyway, Yuuta,” Kousuke said, turning to me. “I think we’ll head back to the living room now.”

“Oh, right,” I said. “We should go back—”

Just then, we heard the thud-thud-thud of footsteps, and the sliding door opened. Two children burst into the room, saying, “Yuu! Let’s play!”

The two grade-schoolers had yanked the sliding door with such enthusiasm that it slid back closed with a bang. Without a hint of hesitation, they came crashing into me.

“Yuu! Yuu! Let’s play!”

“Yeah, let’s play!”

All of a sudden, the room was filled with noise.

“Hey, Takumi. Hey, Mika. It’s been a while,” I said, lifting them both up in my arms. I hadn’t seen them in a year, and they’d grown. Takumi, the boy, was two years older than Mika, the girl. They were Dad’s younger sister’s kids, meaning they were my cousins.

“Hey, look, Yuu!” exclaimed Takumi. “See this? I got this monster!”

“I got a monsterrr!”

“No, you didn’t. You got a ring. The monster’s mine!” Takumi said, proudly lifting a soft vinyl toy.

Mika looked up at her brother’s toy, then mimicked his pose, holding a ring high up toward the ceiling. It wasn’t the kind of ring an adult would wear, though. It was made of plastic and about the size of a baseball. Where a typical ring might have a jewel, the toy had what looked like a magic circle. Maybe it was associated with some anime. I wasn’t sure which one, but Maru would probably know.

“Then this is a ring-monster,” Mika said excitedly.

“What the heck is that?!” Takumi shot back. “Oh well, that’s okay. Come on, Yuu, let’s play!”

“Let’s play!”

“Hey, slow down,” I said. Children sure have a lot of energy.

“Who’s the pretty lady?” Mika asked.

“This is Ayase.”

As soon as I’d spoken, I realized my mistake. Calling her Ayase didn’t explain anything and was likely to confuse them. Ayase still used her old last name for convenience, but she’d been introduced to our relatives as Saki Asamura. Dad’s hometown was still pretty conservative, and a lot of people assumed it was natural for family members to all share a last name.

If I called her Ayase, it might sound like I didn’t see her as a member of the family. In this case, it would be better to introduce her as simply “my sister, Saki.” If I could work up the nerve to say her first name, that is.

Mika suddenly turned around and pointed at Kousuke and Nagisa. “Kou and Nagi!”

“Yes, that’s right,” Kousuke said, patting her on the head. “But, Mika, you shouldn’t point at people.”

“Mm. Okay.” Then she turned around and looked at me. “Yuu!”

“Um, yeah,” I said. “Hi.”

“And, uh… A…Aya!”

“Huh?” Ayase looked confused. “Oh. Yes?”

Mika tilted her head as if to ask, “Was that wrong?” It was. Ayase was my sister’s surname, not her given name. But I figured it would only confuse Mika more if I tried to explain the two surnames at this point. And besides, Aya sounded like a first name anyway.

I knew it was a little underhanded of me, but if Mika started calling my sister Aya, I thought maybe it would make my calling her Ayase sound a little more natural.

“Hey, Yuu?” asked Mika.

“Hmm?”

“Is Aya your friend?”

“Ayase is my younger sister. We just became family.”

Mika looked puzzled.

“Mika, don’t you remember?” Takumi asked. “Mom said Uncle Taichi got married.”

“Does marriage come with a sister?”

I couldn’t help chuckling. How could I make her understand?

I thought about it but couldn’t come up with a good explanation, so I decided to change the subject instead. Come to think of it, Kousuke always used to play with me like this. Around the time I was Takumi’s age, in the upper grades of elementary school…my birth mother stopped paying attention to me. I was always so happy to spend time with Kousuke, even if it was only for two days at New Year’s.

“So, Takumi, Mika,” I said. “What do you guys want to do?”

““Play a game!”” they shouted in sync.

“A game, huh?”

They weren’t talking about the typical Japanese New Year’s activities, like board games or fukuwarai, where you pin pictures of noses and eyes and the like on a paper outline of a face. No, they meant video games. These kids were part of the digital generation.

“I’ll go get a game from Mom!” Takumi said before dashing out of the room.

Mika tried to follow and almost fell over, but I caught her and led her along by the hand.

Together, we all headed back to the living room.

Takumi went to his mother and asked for a game. Apparently, she’d brought a portable game console along on the trip—the kind you could use handheld or hook up to a TV. We took it and moved to another room to set it up.

I knew the two elementary schoolers would get bored if they had to hang out and chat with the adults. I’d been exactly the same way when I was their age. So, with Kousuke’s help, we set up the game. There were four controllers, so four of us could play at once.

“Yuuta,” said Kousuke. “Would you mind taking care of these two?”

I nodded, and he and Nagisa went back to join the other adults. Perhaps they wanted to discuss their wedding plans.

The couple left the room, quietly closing the sliding doors behind them and leaving Ayase and me with the children.

“Come on, Yuu!”

“Y-yeah, okay. Uh… What should we play?”

I turned on the game console and started looking through the selection. I was hoping to find something all four of us, including Ayase, could play together. Eventually, I found a promising title.

“This looks good… Are you guys okay with this?”

Takumi and Mika nodded vigorously.

I wasn’t much of a gamer, but I’d heard about this one from Maru, and I’d tried it once in the past.

“Okay. Come on, Ayase.”

“Huh?!” Ayase looked at me in surprise. “But I don’t know this one.”

“That’s okay—, it’s easy. It’s cooperative, not competitive.”

If the kids hadn’t brought along a console, I would probably have just lent them my tablet. But it was a lot more fun to play together on a big screen.

I launched the game, and four little cooks appeared on the screen. Each of us controlled one of the cooks, and we had to prepare food according to the customers’ orders.

It’s not easy, of course. There’s a time limit, and the layout of the kitchen changes. But the game is designed so the players can succeed as long as they cooperate. It’s an action game, but it’s also kind of like a puzzle.

We moved our cooks around the screen, cutting vegetables and frying meat. Orders were shouted, and food and plates clattered about. We could hear customers complaining that their orders were taking too long.

The two grade-schoolers were really adept at the game. It seemed they had a lot of experience, and they would call out instructions to each other. Ayase and I could barely keep up.

“Aya! Aya!” Mika called out. It seemed both the kids had adopted the new nickname for her.

“Wh-what?” she replied.

“The meat will burn!”

“Huh?!”

A flame flared up before Ayase’s cook could reach the frying pan.

“Aaahhh!”

If the flame got too high, the food would burn, and if you didn’t put it out, the whole kitchen could catch fire. It was a rare chance to see Ayase’s flustered expression, but there was no time. My usually calm, cool, and collected sister was totally panicked.

“Calm down, Ayase!”

“What am I supposed to doooo?!”

You could put out a fire using the game’s fire extinguisher, but you’d have to start cooking again from the beginning. Unfortunately, our time ran out and we weren’t able to clear the stage.

“Sorry,” Ayase said, dejected.

“Aya, are you bad at cooking?”

“Oh, no, Mika. Ayase is a great cook,” I explained. “This is just a game. It’s okay, Ayase. You’ll do better next time.”

“Hearing you cover for me so desperately just makes me feel worse,” said Ayase.

“What?!” That wasn’t what I’d meant at all. “But it’s true that you’re a good cook.”

“I burned the meat and set the whole kitchen on fire.”

“It’s just a game.”

“I won’t lose next time!”

“You’ll be way better than me once you get used to it. It’s only a matter of time.”

“I hate losing.”

I knew Ayase was competitive, but I’d never seen her so worked up before.

“Aya! Aya!” Mika was tugging on Ayase’s sleeve. “Mommy said brothers and sisters have to be nice to each other. Right?” she said, turning to Takumi.

Takumi nodded.

“Don’t you like Yuu?” she asked Ayase.

“O-of course I do!”

“Then you have to make up. Want me to show you how?”

“Um, sure. I guess?”

Why did Ayase sound so hesitant today? She could hold heated debates with associate professors, but it seemed elementary schoolers were another matter.

I’d been dealing with Takumi and Mika for years whenever I visited Dad’s hometown, and I remembered how others had treated me when I was little. As part of a family that got together on every possible occasion, I had a lot more experience.

And anyway, Takumi and Mika were two of the closest siblings I knew.

Mika grabbed her brother by the arm. “Takumi. Let’s make up.”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry, Mika.”

“I forgwive you.”

“Okay, done.”

They touched their cheeks together, then hugged each other tightly. For a moment, the image before me didn’t seem real. It felt like I was watching a foreign movie. Maybe because of their pale skin and hair and their pretty features, Mika and Takumi looked like two angels in a religious painting.

They giggled and clung to each other. Apparently, Aunt Kanae’s husband was a quarter foreign, and the kids had always looked a bit otherworldly.

Then, as I was lost in thought, something extraordinary happened.

I was sitting there, smiling and watching the adorable scene, when Mika turned and kissed Takumi on the cheek.

“Like that. See? Now you guys do it,” Mika said, still cheek to cheek with her brother.

Ayase and I froze. Is that really how two siblings make up with each other?

The two giggling angels stared at us. The look on their faces said, “Well? It’s your turn.”

Come on. I know you two are close, but kissing?! Surely not. Right?

“Aren’t you going to make up?” asked Mika.

“Oh, um, we don’t need to. We get along great.”

Ayase nodded. “Uh-huh…”

“Ayase?”

I got the feeling she was acting a little strange.

“Hey, kids! It’s time for dinner!”

A voice from down the hall brought me back to my senses.

I exhaled and put my hands down behind my back. They slipped on the tatami floor, and I panicked. Woven tatami feels coarse, but depending on the direction of the grain, it can be quite slippery.

Takumi and Mika were already out the door by the time they let each other go. They ran down the hallway, shouting, “Dinner!”

“Shall we go?” asked Ayase.

“Yeah.”

The two of us walked slowly, as if we’d just awakened from a dream.

My heart was still thumping loudly. I hoped it would settle down before we reached others.

My relatives were already gathered in a spacious room resembling a banquet hall.

It was fifteen tatami mats, or about twenty-five square meters wide, with three low tables pushed together in the center.

Large platters of food were placed on the tables. It appeared that we were having sukiyaki. There were iron pans set on three tabletop gas stoves, and the broth was already simmering.

There were a lot of vegetables, including lotus root, burdock, shiitake mushrooms, shimeji mushrooms, green onions, and edible chrysanthemum. The meat was chicken. Most people probably think of beef at the mention of sukiyaki, but for some reason, my family always uses chicken. Maybe it’s because chicken is cheap, or maybe it’s just tradition. Either way, I like chicken, so I don’t mind.

There was also an array of osechi ryori, or traditional Japanese New Year’s food, packed neatly in stacked, partitioned boxes called jubako.

All these dishes were homemade, which was pretty rare these days. Most people simply ordered them premade and ready to eat.

I could see sweet rolled omelets, candied chestnuts with sweet potatoes, sweet black soybeans, herring roe, fish cake, and kelp. A lot of Japanese food tended to be brown, but the red and white fish cake, the red prawns, and the yellow eggs and chestnuts added color to the food.

The sweet rolled omelets were my favorite, and I remembered being scolded for eating only those when I was growing up. The rest of the food wasn’t very appealing to children, but I’d started appreciating everything else once I entered high school. Tastes change as you grow, after all.

My relatives were already sitting around the tables. The beer was flowing, and Dad was drinking and chatting away.

When we arrived, my grandmother and Akiko brought bottled tea and homemade barley tea from the kitchen for the kids.

We began eating once everyone was seated.

Three generations of my family lived in this house together: my grandparents, their eldest son (Dad’s older brother) and his wife, and their son (Kousuke). Dad lived in Tokyo, and his younger sister and her husband lived in Chiba. But today, all twelve of them were gathered together—fourteen if you counted Ayase and me. From my perspective, it wasn’t an unusual scene, but Ayase looked a little taken aback when we opened the sliding door.

Once seated, we had a toast and began eating. After a while, Dad introduced Akiko and Ayase to the rest of the family.

Next to Dad, Akiko stood up and said simply, “Pleased to meet you all.” But Ayase, on her other side, was meeting everyone for the first time and had to give a longer introduction. The others were eager to know how old she was and what she was doing at school.

In Tokyo, it’s pretty rare for anyone to ask more than your name when you first meet, even if you’re related. However, out here, people were still pretty traditional.

Eventually, Grandmother said, “Okay, that’s enough for now. Let the girl sit and eat,” and Ayase was finally able to sit back down. She looked relieved.

It was Kousuke’s turn next. He stood up and introduced Nagisa. Then it was her turn to be bombarded with questions.

I poured tea into Ayase’s cup and whispered, “Good job.”

“Thanks.”

“Do you want some osechi? I’ll get it for you.”

“Okay, let’s see. I’ll have a piece of sweet rolled omelet. It looks good, and those are my favorite. Oh…? Did I say something funny?”

“No, no. They’re my favorite, too.”

I used the serving chopsticks to grab an omelet and set it on her plate.

She took a small bite. “So this is the flavor of Dad’s family’s cooking. That’s why Mom always… I see.”

I had no idea what she was talking about, but Ayase looked satisfied with her deduction.

We ate in silence for a while, listening to the others talk but not really paying attention.

Kousuke went to college in Saitama, then returned to Nagano. That meant he and Nagisa had been in a long-distance relationship after graduation.

I heard someone say, “I wondered what you were doing driving off every weekend. And look now, you’ve got a beautiful wife!”

“I got nervous when we stopped seeing each other in person,” Nagisa said. “Even though we can chat over the internet every day.”

Kousuke nodded. He said that was why they’d filed the paperwork once he learned he was being sent abroad.

As I listened, I wondered what I would have done in his shoes. If I knew I wouldn’t be able to see Ayase anymore…

“Well, Kousuke’s always been the type to get lonely,” said Uncle Kouta. “When he was a child, he hated having to stay at home by himself and tried to tag along wherever I went.”

“Stop it, Dad,” Kousuke said, but his embarrassment seemed to amuse my uncle, and he started telling all sorts of stories about Kousuke’s childhood, including all his likes and dislikes. Kousuke grimaced, but Nagisa pricked up her ears.

From what was said, it seemed Nagisa had been living here with Kousuke since the summer, when he was first offered the overseas posting. I still wasn’t sure what Nagisa was doing for work. If she’d already found a job in Nagano, what would she do when she had to leave with Kousuke?

I didn’t usually pay much attention to other people’s conversations, but now I found myself unconsciously listening in. It surprised me.

Real relationships weren’t like the ones I’d seen in books and movies. Authors were probably trying to pick out all the most exciting parts for their stories, though I supposed that was only natural since it was meant as entertainment.

Reality was a lot more practical. The things facing a real couple weren’t dramatic obstacles but run-of-the-mill annoyances like tedious government procedures and the chore of announcing your marriage to all your friends and relatives… And, of course, being subjected to the curious eyes of your relatives, who knew all about your past.

Maybe a well-meaning relative would get a little too frank and tell you to hurry up and give your parents a grandchild.

Comments like that were a little lacking in sensitivity, especially nowadays, when more and more people were getting married later and choosing not to have children.

When this happened to Nagisa, she just smiled and let it wash over her.

Ayase muttered, “She’s so mature,” and I turned to look at her face. Unlike Nagisa, she wasn’t very good at letting things wash over her.

Meanwhile, Akiko was chatting with my grandparents, pouring sake for Grandfather. She was smiling, too. Working as a bartender at a fancy bar in the city for years had left her with an impressive skill set.

Whatever she may have been feeling, there wasn’t an ounce of unhappiness on Akiko’s face. Of course, the same had been true of my birth mother. Every year, when we visited Dad’s relatives, she’d put up a fake front.

It must have been tough for Dad to come to these gatherings in the years following his divorce and listen to relatives bombard him with questions about why he and his wife had separated. He’d managed to get through it without criticizing her, insisting that things had just happened that way.

I wondered what it would be like if Ayase and I got married. The thought made me anxious. Would we be able to get along with Dad’s relatives like my parents and Kousuke and Nagisa?

Eventually, night fell, and we ate the traditional bowl of New Year’s Eve soba noodles as everyone continued chatting. Takumi and Mika fell asleep at the table, and Kousuke and I helped take them to their rooms. After that, we returned, and the conversation continued.

Ayase remained as quiet as a mouse the whole time.

Eventually, Grandfather said, “All right. Shall we head out?” He rose, and everyone else followed suit.

Ayase did the same, but she seemed puzzled. “Um… Where are we going?” she whispered.

“We’re going to a shrine. It’s called Ninen-Mairi. We go on New Year’s Eve, then come back after midnight. We’ll take a car, but you might want to wear a jacket since it’s cold out. If you get chilled, you can take another bath when we get home.”

“We’re going now?”

“Well, we have to come back after midnight, or it doesn’t count.”

Ayase’s eyelids were beginning to droop. She looked really tired.

“You can always stay here and sleep. What do you want to do?”

“…I’ll go.”

Ninen-Mairi is a form of New Year’s worship in which people go to a shrine or temple on New Year’s Eve and pray until the new year dawns. By definition, it requires you to be out quite late.

We got our heavy jackets and stepped outside.

It wasn’t snowing, but we were deep in the Nagano mountains, and the temperature was already below zero.

I opened the front door and immediately flinched at the high-pitched whoosh of the wind. I could feel the cold creeping up through the soles of my feet.

We hurried over to Dad’s car and tumbled in. The coldest moments came after we’d closed the door and were waiting for the heater to kick in. My jacket was still sitting on my lap as my relatives split up into three cars and started driving toward a nearby shrine.

According to custom, temples strike a giant hanging bell 108 times on New Year’s Eve night. We heard the first one over the car radio.

A little while later, we arrived at the shrine and parked our car in the lot.

After getting out, I put on my coat and zipped up the front to keep out the cold air. I’d remembered to bring a hat, as well as the neck warmer Ayase gave me. I was fully prepared.

Ayase was also dressed warmly. She was in a fluffy duffle coat, complete with a hat and gloves. The bright mustard-yellow color stood out in the night and looked good on her.

Akiko came up and offered us disposable heating pads. “You should put these in your pockets.”

We gratefully accepted them. Leave it to Akiko to be well prepared.

Someone had shoveled all the snow in the parking lot and piled it up into solid walls around the edges. If they hadn’t, we wouldn’t have been able to pray. I sent a silent thanks to the people who always took care of stuff like that.

“We’re pretty deep in the mountains,” Ayase noted.

“Yep. This is the upper shrine.”

“The upper shrine?”

“They have several shrines here, starting at the foot of the mountain and going up. Have you ever heard of the myth of Ama-no-Iwato? This shrine is related to that story.”

“Sure, I’ve heard of it. It’s about the time when Amaterasu, the sun goddess, hid away in a cave, and the other gods threw a big party to lure her back out.”

“Y-yeah, that’s the one.”

Listening to Ayase’s summary, I got the feeling this was how she memorized literature for her exams. I nodded, then proceeded to explain how my family went to pray at the upper shrine every year. “By the way, it’s a two-kilometer walk.”

“What?!”

“There are a lot of long flights of stairs along the way. Expect to have sore muscles tomorrow.”

“No one told me that.” She stared at me reproachfully with upturned eyes.

“If you want, you can wait in the car where it’s warm.”

“…No, I’ll go. I don’t want to wait out here all alone.”

“Well, give it a try and let me know if it’s too much for you. Next time, you can wait for us.”

I spoke casually, but Ayase looked up with a start.

“Next time?” she asked.

“I mean, we do it every year.”

“Next time. Okay. I’ll try it out and tell you if it’s too tough.”

“Good.”

I guess this is another little compromise, I thought vaguely.

Dad started walking with Akiko, and we followed them.

As we approached a large torii gate at the entrance, Ayase took her phone out of her coat pocket. Then she turned on the camera and took a shot of the gate. The light flashed, and the large wooden torii and the white snow behind it seemed to jump out of the darkness. Of course, she was careful not to disturb the other worshippers.

“Don’t fall behind,” Dad called out, and we picked up the pace, careful not to slip.

We moved to the side of the path and walked through the torii gate. Traditionally, the middle was reserved for the gods.

The path beyond the gate stretched before us, so long we couldn’t see where it led. The snow had been cleared, but there were still clumps of it mixed with gravel below our feet, and we had to walk slowly to avoid falling.

Ayase wasn’t used to the snow and almost slipped a few times, so I showed her a trick. You had to step on the snow as if grabbing it with the soles of your feet.

The ground beyond the torii was mostly level, and after about fifteen minutes, we’d made it halfway. The spot was marked with a large, vermilion-painted gate with a thatched roof. Had it not been winter, the ground would have been covered with grass, but now it was covered with snow. Lengths of hemp rope used for purification, called shimenawa, hung from the top of the gate, blocking worldly misfortunes from entering. Ayase pulled out her phone again and took more photos.

She must really like old buildings.

I took another look at the gate before me.

“When something is this old, you can really feel the history,” I said.

“Mm. There’s more to it than that.”

“What do you mean?”

“People say they feel a sense of history when they look at something old, but I don’t think that’s the real reason. Don’t you think we’re really talking about how the building has been treated?”

“How it’s been treated?”

“For example, say you found an old Daruma doll—you know, the ones you paint the eyes on when you make a wish? Well, let’s say the one you found didn’t have any eyes. That would mean no one had ever used it. The doll is still old, but looking at it would just make you feel sad.”

“Ah.”

“Wooden buildings exposed to the rain decay and disappear without proper maintenance. People often say that vacant buildings are more susceptible to damage.”

Ayase’s words reminded me of something she’d said in the car on our way to Nagano.

“Old buildings carry lots of memories.”

It seemed like what Ayase was trying to say was this: The rustic vermilion gate in front of us wasn’t just old—people had appreciated and cared for it all these years. The very fact that it was still there was proof of that.

I said as much, and she nodded.

“Exactly.”

Was that what she meant by a building’s memories?

“Are you into profiling?” I asked.

“Huh?”

“It sometimes comes up in mystery novels. You use statistics to come up with a description of the perpetrator of a crime.”

“Isn’t that the same as deduction?”

“You’re not just trying to figure out who the culprit is, you’re coming up with a statistically likely description of what sort of person commits a certain type of crime. Exceptions always exist, of course. For example, two murderers might have wildly different motives. In fact, those differences are the whole reason we have whydunits.”

“…Asamura, you really know your mystery novels.”

“You’re exaggerating…”

To be honest, I knew someone who was a lot more into mystery novels at work. For a moment, the figure of a Japanese beauty with long black hair flashed in my mind.

“That’s just some stuff I read in a book once,” I said. “Anyway, you’re interested in how old buildings became what we see now, right?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“It’s like ‘My Grandfather’s Clock.’”

That was a song about a clock that kept running from the time the narrator’s grandfather was born until he died. There was even a story about the real-life clock that inspired the song’s author.

You could look at something a person made or received and tell how it was created or how much it was treasured or neglected. In the song, the clock stopping is directly compared to the grandfather’s death.

“Please don’t sing it,” Ayase said immediately.

“Why not?” I asked.

“I can’t bear to hear it.”

“You don’t like it?”

“It makes me cry.”

There were candles burning on either side of the path, glowing in the darkness. I could only barely make out Ayase’s face in the dim light. But her words were so unexpected that I couldn’t help staring.

“Oh… Okay, then.”

We went up the steps and passed the stone komainu, then entered the shrine grounds. Unfortunately, the water at the purification fountain was frozen, so I wasn’t able to wash my hands.

We proceeded to the front of the shrine, then I tossed the five yen I’d brought into the offering box and rang the bell. The sound echoed through the darkness. I bowed twice and clapped my hands twice. I typically did this simple, standard prayer unless strict formality was called for.

The second time I brought my hands together, I naturally began to think over the past year. I could feel my mind calming and my thoughts sorting out.

The custom of visiting a shrine or temple at the start of the new year originated in the Heian period, when the head of a family would spend the night at a shrine housing their guardian deity. They’d stay there from New Year’s Eve until the morning of January first, praying for a good harvest and for their family’s safety. These days, however, I got the feeling that Ninen-Mairi was more about reflecting on the past and renewing your spirit in readiness for the upcoming year.

These were my thoughts as I closed my eyes before the shrine.

A lot had happened that year.

It was only six months ago in June when Dad married Akiko and we welcomed her and Ayase into our home.

All of a sudden, I had a stepsister the same age as I was. At first, I was stunned by her flashy clothes, so different from my own.

I’d helped her study for her Modern Japanese exam, then I’d gone to the pool with her and other students from our school during the summer. That was a rare event for me, since I tended to stay at home.

It was then that I’d realized I was in love with her.

That had been painful for me. Both our parents had gone through terrible divorces and were trying hard to make sure their new family would be happy. I knew they were still hoping we would get along well as siblings.

We had a lot of misunderstandings, but by the beginning of autumn, we’d finally come out and confided in each other about our growing feelings. We decided to spend time with each other, doing whatever we felt was permissible for particularly close siblings. But then, on Halloween night, we kissed…

The events of the past year flashed through my mind, one after the other. Then I finished praying and opened my eyes. People were lining up behind us; there was no time for me to lose myself in memories. I bowed one last time, then retreated from the worship hall.

Our parents had been waiting for us, and as we walked back toward them, I asked Ayase what she’d prayed for.

She chuckled and said, “I was so busy thinking about the past year that I didn’t have time to make a wish.”

I laughed and said I did the same.

The four of us retraced our steps and headed back to the parking lot.

“Hey,” Ayase said. “Don’t you want to get your fortune?”

“Oh, yeah. I get one every year.”

Dad overheard us and said, “Let’s do that before we head home, then.”

We got into the car and headed for the shrine midway up the mountain. During the winter, they didn’t give out fortunes at the upper shrine.

Eventually, we reached our destination and got our fortunes. But when Ayase opened her slip, she froze.

“It says my luck is terrible…”

“I didn’t know they even gave out bad fortunes on New Year’s,” I said.

“What about you, Asamura?”

“Slightly lucky.”

She glared at me. Hey, it’s not my fault. Though I guess I did say I wanted to do this…

“If it’s bad, you can leave it behind,” Dad suggested. “Look, you can hang your slip over there.”

I looked in the direction he was pointing and saw numerous white pieces of paper hanging from a rope.

Ayase neatly folded her slip and tied it firmly to the rope.

She was smiling when we left, but I got the feeling she was still a little upset.

Leaving the still-ringing bell behind us, we left the shrine and welcomed the new year.

December 31 (Thursday)—Saki Ayase

“They have a tataki…”

I gasped. I hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

Asamura’s dad’s house was large, and it was a kominka, probably built in the 1920s or ’30s. It had a tiled roof and an earthen floor at the entrance called a tataki.

Once we stepped over the agari-gamachi, a piece of wood marking the raised entrance to the house, I could see the wood lining the hallway. It shone like polished ebony—you could tell it was carefully maintained.

I loved old buildings and furniture, and I especially enjoyed looking at ones like this, that had been cherished and well cared for. They gave you a glimpse of all the things they’d been through.

A hallway circled the house. The storm shutters were all hidden away, and we could see right out into the garden bathed in slanted streaks of winter sunshine.

That was great and all, but I was starting to get a little—no, very nervous.

To be honest, I was terrified.

I started wondering why I’d agreed to come along. My interpersonal skills were so pathetic I wanted to cry. I wasn’t like Maaya, who could open her heart to anyone she met in three minutes.

Dad’s mother looked like a kind soul. She listened with a gentle smile on her face as Mom and I greeted her. But I was still anxious.

I heard people talking and laughing on the other side of the sliding paper doors.

“Oh my. Sounds like they’re having a good time,” my step-grandmother said as she opened the door.

People were sitting in a circle in a large Japanese-style room. A wave of pressure hit me, and I unconsciously stepped back.

“Taichi is here.”

“Ah! Finally. Tokyo is so far away,” an older man with gray hair said loudly as he stood up. He had to be Dad’s father. That would make him my step-grandfather. “Akiko, we haven’t seen you in a while. How have you been?”

“I’ve been well, thank you.”

All eyes were on Mom as she bowed. Then their attention shifted to me.

Their gazes didn’t feel 100 percent welcoming, either, and that weighed on me. It wasn’t that they were hostile, per se. They were just being cautious, unsure how to deal with me.

“Okay, okay, we’ll talk later. Akiko and Taichi are exhausted after their long trip, so let me show them to their room.”

My step-grandmother eventually helped us escape.

The sliding door closed, and I could finally catch my breath. I slowly unclenched my hands. Oh, no. I already feel like throwing up.

Was that just how it was for a second wife and her child at this kind of gathering?

Perhaps my clothes, which were perfectly natural for me, were too bold for a place like this. I sighed, wondering if I should have dyed my hair black. Was I just overthinking things?

It was tough being a high school kid. They were stuck in between two worlds.

If only I were Mom’s age or even just in college. Then I could dye my hair, use hair extensions, and wear makeup and jewelry without anyone looking twice. I was allowed to dress like this at my school, so I thought it was pretty normal these days. But despite my inner musings, I felt like I was about to be crushed by my new relatives’ gazes.

I took a deep breath. I had to calm down. I didn’t come here to fight.

The four of us were going to spend the night in a Japanese-style room about thirteen square meters wide.

When I saw the futons in the corner, it all began to feel real. Asamura and I would be in the same room. Of course, Mom and Dad would be there with us. But wait. Didn’t that mean they’d all see me sleeping and right after I woke up?

…Was this the only room they had available?

“I’m sorry. We weren’t able to prepare a separate room for the children this year. You see—”

As Step-Grandmother spoke, someone called out from the other side of the sliding door. A man, around twenty-five or twenty-six years old, stepped into the room along with a woman of the same age.

I could tell right away that they were a couple. The woman kept looking at the man. Asamura called him Kousuke.

He said Kousuke was his cousin and eight years older than him. That means he must be twenty-five, right? Just like I thought. He told Dad that the woman beside him was his new wife.

“Really?! Well, congratulations!” Dad broke into a huge smile.

Asamura’s mouth hung open. It was clear he hadn’t expected this. He probably hadn’t even known Kousuke had a girlfriend, let alone a wife.

Dad introduced Mom, then me.

“So, Yuuta, you have a younger sister now.”

“Um, yeah.”

“Wow. For a minute, I thought you’d gotten married, too.” His tone was teasing. He’d probably figured out I was Asamura’s stepsister the moment he stepped into the room.

“Of course not. I’m still in high school. It’s way too early for me to get married.” Asamura sounded calm, but I could tell he was totally flustered.

After pushing our luggage into a corner, Mom, Dad, and Step-Grandmother went back into the living room to greet the others.

Those of us left behind exchanged greetings.

Kousuke said he and Nagisa had met in college at their club. Apparently, they’d known each other for quite some time. He also told us why they’d decided to get a marriage license before holding a wedding.

Kousuke was being sent abroad—and Nagisa had decided to join him.

The wedding would have to wait; the process was so complicated there was no way to get it done before spring. I’d underestimated how complicated weddings were. Who would have thought you had to book more than six months in advance to secure the venue you wanted?

Getting married sounded like hard work. I wondered if I could handle it.

…The truth was, I’d never even considered whether I wanted to have a wedding.

The couple before me was only a little further along in life than I was. We were close enough that I could see my own future overlapping theirs.

I had a lot of questions I wanted to ask them, but then Asamura’s younger cousins burst into the room.

They were both elementary schoolers, an older brother and his sister. They had light-colored hair and pretty features. They were so cute the air seemed to brighten around them when they smiled. They appeared to be fond of Asamura and kept head-butting him, urging him to play with them. Looking resigned, Asamura gave in.

We decided to play a game and proceeded to a room with a TV.

Kousuke and Nagisa went back to the living room with the other adults, and Asamura and I hung out with the kids.

I had to hand it to Asamura. He was fantastic at handling the children. He’s like a young father…

I wondered if this was how Asamura would be if he had kids in the future. What am I thinking? How embarrassing.

First off, a guy couldn’t become a dad on his own. He needed a partner… Oh, crap. I’ve gotta stop thinking about this.

The two kids were good at video games.

I only played them with Maaya, so I didn’t have very good instincts.

In this game, you were in control of a tiny chef, and you had to cook meat, cut vegetables, and wash dishes. I did those things all the time in real life, but when I had to use a tiny controller, I just couldn’t seem to get it right.

When I grilled the meat, I overcooked it. And in the process, I set fire to the whole kitchen.

“Aaahhh!” I wailed.

“Aya, are you bad at cooking?” asked Mika.

Her words were like a knife to my heart. I thought I might cry.

If a little kid’s every word hurt that much, how would I cope? Asamura, meanwhile, took it all in stride.

“Oh, no, Mika. Ayase is a great cook,” he said. “This is just a game. It’s okay, Ayase. You’ll do better next time.”

“Hearing you cover for me so desperately just makes me feel worse,” I shot back.

I was frustrated by how much better Asamura was with the kids. But I wasn’t sure what to do. I wasn’t great with adults, either, but kids were much more difficult. Even debating with Associate Professor Kudou seemed easy compared with this.

I thought about what I was like when I was their age. Back then, I considered every adult around me, except for Mom, to be an enemy.

It was scary to think about what my younger self would think of me now.

I’d seen adults do some really awful things. I probably looked like an adult to these kids, too, and that made me anxious. I began to think they must hate me.

By the time food was ready and we finished the game, I was exhausted. But this was just the beginning.

At dinner, Mom and I would be expected to greet Asamura’s relatives again. I might be bold when it came to personal habits like fashion and studying, but it seemed marriage required a lot of things I wasn’t very good at—such as relationship-building and taking care of children.

Once we gathered in the spacious dining room, it was time for introductions.

All of Asamura’s relatives were introduced to us one by one. I felt bad, but I definitely wasn’t able to remember them all.

Later, when I was full of food and nodding off, my step-grandfather said, “All right. Shall we head out?” and everyone got to their feet.

I was told we were going to a shrine for something called Ninen-Mairi.

Asamura said I could stay and sleep if I was tired, but I didn’t want to be alone in a such a big house.

“…I’ll go,” I said and followed him out.

I was glad he was there. Mom was too busy interacting with Dad’s parents and their relatives. She didn’t have the energy to worry about me, too. Besides, I didn’t want to get in her way.

Without Asamura, I wouldn’t have known what to do.

I’m so glad.

For Ninen-Mairi, we went to a shrine at the top of a mountain.

Apparently, we were going to walk two kilometers from the parking lot to get there.

A two-kilometer walk in the mountains at night? How long would that take? I was anxious, but I didn’t want to wait in the car. Besides…

“Well, give it a try and let me know if it’s too much for you. Next time, you can wait for us.”

His casual remark made me happy. He sounded so sure there would be a next time. But while I knew he was only being nice, I wished he wouldn’t keep trying to leave me behind.

I mean, yeah, a two-kilometer walk wasn’t going to be easy, but still.

Once we started walking, however, I found it kind of fun. I’d always enjoyed looking at old buildings. I wouldn’t call myself a history buff, but I enjoyed losing myself in my thoughts as I gazed at them.

It was exciting to see the snowy scenery at night, and chatting about it with Asamura improved my mood.

“Anyway, you’re interested in how old buildings became what we see now, right?”

When he said that, I realized something. I’d never considered my own thoughts objectively like that.

It’s hard for a person to examine themself. Maybe I didn’t really know what kind of person I was or what I looked like all decked out in my armor.

But in that case, how was I supposed to put up a decent defense? What if I’d just made myself into a prickly hedgehog, pushing everyone else away? All I wanted was to avoid being hurt; I didn’t want to hurt anyone else.

It must have taken at least forty minutes to walk up to the shrine. Somewhere along the way, the clock struck midnight, and the new year arrived.

When we reached the worship hall, I tossed some money into the offering box and folded my hands together in prayer.

I closed my eyes, then began to think back over the year. The memories of the past six months were especially vivid.

It was June when Mom and I moved into Asamura’s apartment.

Meeting him had impacted my whole way of life. Up until then, I’d had a generally bad impression of men, thanks to my birth father. I didn’t really want them around me.

My goal was to study hard and become independent, though I didn’t want others to think I was only good at school.

When I thought back on it now, the deal I’d made with Asamura was totally embarrassing. It was true I didn’t want to be in his debt, but I probably also wanted to prove to myself that I couldn’t rely on men like him.

And offering up my body like that was way over the line. Asamura lectured me over it, and I think that was when his shadow started to flicker into my vision.

I chose to work part-time at the same bookstore he did, then realized I had special feelings for him. After that, I started referring to him as my brother to try and control my emotions.

Thinking back on it all, I began to understand something.

It only seemed like I was making my own choices. In reality, I kept letting his existence influence my decisions.

Associate Professor Kudou, who I’d met at that open campus, had insisted that a narrow frame of reference was the enemy of reason and intellect. She’d said I try spending time around other boys.

But then Asamura finally confessed his feelings for me.

So we compromised. We said we’d keep our relationship that of particularly close siblings, and I suppressed my desire to go beyond that.

After we finished, Asamura asked me what I’d prayed for.

“I was so busy thinking about the past year that I didn’t have time to make a wish.”

He laughed and said he did the same. As he spoke, I felt I could see a light in his eyes. It was like he’d figured something out.

When he looked at me like that, I thought, This is why I fell for him.

Earlier, he’d implied there’d be a “next time.” Believing that, I said another prayer in my heart.

I hope I’ll be able to come back here with Asamura next year.

January 1 (Friday)—Yuuta Asamura

I’d prayed for a fresh start that year…

And yet I woke up on January first feeling neither calm nor refreshed.

After taking a bath to warm my body, chilled from our Ninen-Mairi, I slipped under the covers and fell asleep so quickly I couldn’t even remember when I’d closed my eyes. But I woke up to sore muscles, especially my calves.

That was only natural after trekking two kilometers up and down a mountain trail in the middle of the night. Anyone would feel the same. It was no wonder my legs hurt.

“Yuu! It’s time for breakfast!” someone called, sliding open the paper door. It was Takumi. Leave it to a grade-schooler to be full of energy in the morning. He charged at me and ripped off my covers. “Breakfast!”

“Whoa! It’s freezing!” I yelped.

“Come to breakfast, or there won’t be anything left!”

“All right, all right. Tell everyone that I’m on my way.”

“Okay!”

He ran back out without even closing the sliding door.

What a carefree kid, I thought. It was fine for him to yank off my covers, but it would have been disastrous if he’d done that to Ayase.

I turned around with a start. Where was she?

I then realized that I was the only person left in the room. The others’ futons were all neatly folded and pushed into a corner.

Ayase had been so tired when we got back, too. I was impressed. She never let anyone catch her off guard. I’d only caught her fresh out of bed one time in the past six months.

I got changed and headed to the dining room.

“Good morning,” I said, looking around. This was where we’d had our feast the previous night. The three tables were grouped in the center again, and they were now set for breakfast.

My grandfather sat at the head of the table, with Takumi and Mika near the door. Dad was between them. The available spots were…the seat next to Dad and the one across from him. But Akiko was sure to sit next to him, so I went around to the other side, and… Oh.

Just as I moved to sit down, I froze. I’d realized why Akiko and the other women weren’t in the room. Just then, the sliding door opened, and my grandmother entered. The other women were behind her, carrying out the main breakfast dish—zoni—a traditional New Year’s soup with mochi rice cakes, chicken, and vegetables. They must have made it last since the mochi falls apart if it you stew it too long.

“You can sit down,” Grandmother said. “A big guy like you will just get in our way.”

Ayase placed a bowl of zoni in front of me. “Yeah, you should sit, Big Brother. Here’s your zoni.”

“Oh, okay.”

Her look silenced me, and I sat down meekly on my cushion. I’d really overslept. I felt terrible.

“We’ll make more mochi rice cakes if that isn’t enough, and if you want them separate instead of in the zoni, you can have that, too.”

The men took note of Grandmother’s suggestion, and then it was time to eat.

I’ve heard that rice cakes come in different shapes depending on the region. Dad’s family always used the simple, thin, rectangular ones.

I tilted my bowl of zoni, pushing back the mochi and shiitake mushrooms with my chopsticks to prevent them from entering my mouth. The fragrant aroma of mitsuba leaves tickled my nose, and the soup warmed my body from the inside, easing the fatigue from the previous night’s trek.

But as we ate, something kept bothering me.

Ayase, seated next to me, wasn’t eating much. At first, she seemed normal, but upon closer inspection, I could tell she was looking down and sighing every now and then.

After finishing breakfast and cleaning up, I found her sitting on the veranda and called out to her.

“Mind if I sit next to you?”

“Go ahead.”

I took a seat and let my legs dangle out toward the garden. She did the same.

Slowly, I began to talk. I wanted to know what was on her mind.

I mentioned that she’d seemed down at breakfast. Maybe I was mistaken, but I was concerned about her. I had to be. Akiko wasn’t the only one in foreign territory. Ayase was, too.

As expected, Ayase denied it. I kept staring at her, and eventually, she sighed and looked down.

“I just feel like I got off on a bad start this year.”

“Are you talking about the fortune?”

She nodded. I was surprised. I hadn’t expected her to be the spiritual type.

“It isn’t that I believe in stuff like that. I don’t accept the idea that a piece of paper has the power to affect my life.”

“It must really be getting to you if you feel the need to deny it so strongly.”

“Oh,” Ayase said. “Yeah… I guess you’re right.”

“Well, things like that can really influence a person. That’s why fortune-telling stays so popular.”

“I don’t think it’s just that. Asamura…have you…?”

“Have I what?”

“Have you ever wondered what would happen if you got a fortune that could never come true?”

“Like what?”

“Like ‘you’re going to wake up tomorrow as a girl.’”

“It’d be funny, but I don’t think I’d be worried it would actually happen…”

“Right. So if we think about it another way, if you’re worried about your fortune, it means you think it could happen. I think that’s what I don’t like.”

When it came to our relationship, it was easy to imagine a future filled with bad luck.

It was easy to laugh off Ayase’s words. I could say it was just a fortune or that it didn’t count because she’d left it behind at the shrine. But would that ease her troubled mind?

What your fortune says isn’t that big a deal. What matters is how you feel about it—what’s going on in your own mind. The fortune is always vague. It’s you that interprets it into the true answer. You’re creating the illusion of truth yourself.

I thought about what to do.

“Wanna go for a little walk?” I asked. “There’s a place I want to show you.”

“A place you want to show me…? I’m curious.”

We put on heavy jackets and left the house.

We didn’t venture particularly far.

There was snow on the ground, but it was hard from people walking on it, and the path was flat.

Still, I didn’t want to push Ayase too hard. I told her to let me know if she was tired and kept glancing her way to make sure she wasn’t forcing herself.

We climbed the gentle slope, woods on either side of the path. It was meant for cars, so it was wide and easy to traverse. There was a cliff on the left, and the path took a sharp turn to the right. Then the forest opened up, revealing a wide view.

“Wow… That’s a lake.” Ayase gasped.

We could see a body of water past the trees.

“Come over here,” I said. “We can get a little closer.”

We went down some stone stairs, where the snow had been cleared. They led to a small shack. I didn’t know what it was for, but it had been there since I was a little kid.

Eventually, we arrived at the edge of the forest. After taking about ten steps, we noticed a field of brilliant white, untouched snow. Beyond that was the beautiful blue water of the lake.

“It’s dangerous to go any farther,” I warned. “We might slip.”

“Got it… But wow, this is amazing. The scene across the lake is reflected in the water like a mirror.”

Except for some white clouds that seemed to cling to the distant patch of forest, the New Year’s sky was such a solid blue that it almost hurt my eyes. There was no wind, and the lake’s surface was utterly smooth. The blue sky, the edges of the clouds, and the black forest stretching out below them were reflected upside down in the lake as though it were a polished mirror.

“Nice, huh?” I said.

“Yeah…”

“I usually come here in winter. I’ve visited twice in the summer and just once in the autumn when all the leaves turn red, but I never get tired of this view. The lake’s reflection changes a little every season.”

“Do you get to see the maple leaves in the fall?”

“Yeah. There are thunderclouds in the summer and cirrocumulus clouds in autumn. And at night, the moon and the stars, too. The rippling waves look like they’re going to burst on windy days, making the reflection look like frosted glass.”

“I see… That sounds lovely. This is a great spot. Is it famous?”

“Oh, no. It isn’t a tourist attraction or anything…”

“So you’re the one who found it.”

“By chance. There was really nothing in the area when I was growing up. You know how kids get bored easily. It was fine when Kousuke played with me, but he wasn’t always free, so…”

I had discovered this place by chance.

The adults had all gathered together, and I didn’t want to watch my mother with the others, so I’d wandered off and ended up here. I knew she was faking a smile as she chatted with my other relatives. She was like a different person from how she was at home.

“But I guess it wasn’t all bad since I was able to find a good spot to kill time. As they say, every cloud has a silver lining.”

“Asamura…”

“Getting a fortune with terrible luck is like…” I didn’t know if the words I was about to say could comfort her, but I had to say them. “Ayase, are you enjoying yourself now?”

“Now…? Or, uh, do you mean right now and not today or yesterday?”

“I mean now as in these days.”

Ayase thought carefully. “Yeah. I’m having fun…I think.”

“So am I.”

She gasped.

“So if your fortune was awful, that means you’re at rock bottom, despite how much fun you’re having.”

“Wait, what?! …You think so?”

“I think so. In theory, anyway. So if this is as bad as it gets, you should have nothing to worry about. You’ll only get happier from here on out.”

“U-umm.”

It took her a minute to understand what I was saying. (Of course it did. It sounded like sophistry even to me.) But after a moment, she looked up at me and…

…started to laugh.

“Pfft… Hee-hee. That’s going a little far, isn’t it?”

“Oh no. I think it’s a very rational interpretation.”

“Ha-ha-ha. Are you sure rational is the right word?”

“But when you think about it this way, doesn’t it seem silly to be anxious? What I’m trying to say is, you can interpret any fortune both positively and negatively. It’s up to you.”

“Ha-ha. You think so?”

Ayase wiped at her eye with her index finger. Had it really been that funny?

“Okay, thanks. I guess you were worried about me.”

“Well, yeah… I mean, I love you.”

I love you.

“Asamura…”

“Ayase, don’t push yourself too hard. I don’t want to see you stressed out.”

I don’t want you to end up like my birth mother.

“Okay. I’m glad I came. It gave me a chance to see you with your little cousins—Takumi and Mika.”

“What do you mean?”

“You were like a big brother to them. I was totally hopeless. I can’t remember how my parents treated me or what they did to make me happy.”

This time, it was my turn to be startled. I recalled hearing that her family didn’t get together very often.

I thought back to the time Ayase and I went to her friend Narasaka’s house. She’d talked about how nice it was that everyone got along so well.

The weight of the word everyone was greater than I’d realized back then.

Ayase only had Akiko.

“I don’t know how to deal with kids. I’ve never had that kind of experience before, so I’m a little scared.”

“In that case, you don’t have to rush it. Take your time and get used to it slowly.”

“Take my time…?”

“There’s no hurry. Everything doesn’t have to be perfect. I don’t know that we’re all that mature right now, but that’s why we have to grow up together.”

“Together…”

“Yeah, together.”

Ayase brought her hands together and nodded, then gently stroked the shiny bracelet on her wrist. I hadn’t noticed it before.

“That’s a pretty bracelet.”

“Yeah… Isn’t it?” she said, touching it lovingly. She spoke so softly I could barely hear.

I probably shouldn’t say I don’t remember it…

For a while after that, we gazed out at the lake in silence.

A wind started to blow, and shivering, we turned away from the water. The clear landscape was now behind a layer of frosted glass. We headed home without taking another look.

That night, after dinner, Ayase and I played another game against Takumi and Mika. This one was fast-paced and involved racing cars.

Ayase seemed better at this game than the one we’d tried the previous day, and she beat me several times. However, Takumi clearly had a lot of experience, and the rest of us didn’t stand a chance against him. He didn’t ease up, even when Mika started to cry, so we had no choice but to make him take a break. Ayase and I challenged Mika instead, giving her a chance to win.

We played for a couple of hours, but the two elementary schoolers eventually fell asleep.

Kids had lots of energy, and they didn’t hesitate to use up all their reserves. They just kept going right up until they zonked out.

“Oh dear,” said Aunt Kanae with a sigh. “I wish they’d go to their futons if they’re going to sleep.”

“It’s okay,” offered Kousuke. “Yuuta and I will carry them.”

Kousuke got Takumi, and I hoisted Mika onto my back. Ayase said she’d help, but I said to let us do the heavy lifting, and she backed off.

She said she was headed back to our room. Kousuke watched her as she left and smiled.

“She’s a good girl.”

“Yeah. I’m proud to have her as my sister.”

The words came naturally.

Aunt Kanae put the kids to bed, and Kousuke went to the main room to join the other adults. I was getting a little hungry and headed to the kitchen, hoping to grab a bite to eat.

There was food in the main room, too, but I knew that if the others got me involved in a conversation, it would drag on forever.

On my way to the kitchen, I heard Dad talking with my grandparents and came to a stop. They were in my grandparents’ room.

“How are things with her?”

Grandfather sounded worried as he mentioned the name of my biological mother. I gasped. Why was he asking something like that when Dad was getting along so well with Akiko? Why were they talking about her?

My biological mother was good at keeping up appearances. On the surface, she never had a single conflict with my grandparents and always had a smile on her face. They’d been stunned when the divorce was finalized.

Dad didn’t talk about it much and always defended his ex-wife, saying it was partly his fault. But I, for one, didn’t care for her. I mean, six months after the divorce, she’d married the man she had an affair with, and we’d never heard from her again.

Grandfather approved of Dad’s marriage to Akiko, but he said he still wasn’t completely at ease. It seemed that Akiko’s appearance, which was more glamorous than my biological mother’s, was one of the reasons for his uncertainty.

I could understand. When Dad first introduced her to me, I, too, had been worried about him being duped.

Dad’s previous marriage had suddenly fallen apart, despite seeming fine on the surface. And for Grandfather, who found the glitz and glamour of the city totally foreign, a flashier woman like Akiko, who worked as a bartender, probably seemed even less suitable.

Grandmother tried to appease him, but Grandfather kept pressing Dad for details. He said it also worried him that Saki, Akiko’s daughter, was just as flashily dressed and seemed just as cold.

At that point, Dad could no longer hold his tongue.

“It’s okay. Neither Akiko nor Saki are the kind of people you need to worry about,” he said firmly.

He was resolute, but Grandfather didn’t back down.

“I hear you, and maybe you’re fine with it, but what about Yuuta? He’s in high school, and now he suddenly has a new mother and younger sister. Isn’t he confused?”

“He isn’t—”

“Taichi. Can you really say that with conviction?”

“……”

Dad probably faltered because he didn’t want to speak on my behalf. That sincerity had made him incompatible with my biological mother, but I had a feeling it was also what had led him to marry Akiko. That was how I saw it now anyway.

I recalled my dad’s firm attitude from a moment before and called out to him through the sliding door.

The arguing in the room stopped.

I slid open the door, announced myself, and stepped out in front of Grandfather.

“I have no complaints about Akiko.”

Grandfather’s eyes widened. “Yuuta…”

“And the same goes for Saki.”

I couldn’t call her Ayase now. I needed to use her name so he knew exactly who I was talking about. And more than anything, I wanted to stress that I accepted her as my family.

“She isn’t the type of person you think she is. She’s a little awkward, but…I’m the same. She’s kind and honest…and a hard worker. That’s how our Saki is.”

“Yuuta…” Dad looked at me, tears welling up in his eyes.

Then my grandmother had her say.

“You know something, Gentarou? I heard something from Takumi. He said he taught Saki how to play that whatchamacallit game. She was painfully bad at it, but she tried her best. Because of that, he said it was worth teaching her.”

A wry smile threatened to creep onto my face.

“In other words, she did her best to get along with Takumi and Mika.”

“H-hmm.”

“You know, Gentarou, you were quite grumpy in front of her yourself.”

“Did you see the color of her hair? It was—”

“That’s normal these days. Remember when Kanae came home with her hair dyed bright red?”

Grandfather’s mouth closed into a tight line. Perhaps he’d decided that he couldn’t win an argument against his wife. Or maybe he’d finally given in.

Grandmother was staring at me, and it made me a little uncomfortable.

“Yeah, well…okay,” said Grandfather. “I understand. That’s probably how it is if you say so, Yuuta. You’ve always been so quiet that I didn’t expect you to speak your mind so clearly.”

“So, Gentarou, are you done?” Grandmother asked.

“Yeah, fine. I won’t say anything more for now. Oh…Yuuta, your birthday has passed, right? How old are you now?”

“I’m seventeen.”

“Ah. Then you’ll be coming of age next year… Why, you’ll be old enough to get a wife. No wonder you’ve matured.”

“A wife…? It’s too early for that.”

“Kousuke got married. And it happened so suddenly.”

Grandmother felt sorry for me as I clammed up. “Right. Okay. I think that’s enough, Gentarou.”

“Well then, Taichi. Let’s have a drink, and we’ll pick up where we left off.”

“Huh…? You know I’m not a big drinker, and I’m driving tomorrow.”

He and Grandfather returned to the dining hall, and I went back to our room.

I got under the covers and thought about what had just happened.

Even if everyone found out about Ayase and me, and our relatives weren’t entirely on board, I could just be stubborn like Dad.

Let’s do our best. I’ll give it all I’ve got, Saki.

January 1 (Friday)—Saki Ayase

I quickly turned out the light, crawled under the covers, and pretended to be asleep.

I heard the sliding door open before my heart could stop pounding, and I could sense that Asamura was getting into bed, too. Our futons were on opposite sides of the room, with our parents sleeping between us.

That was good, because it meant we didn’t have to be overly conscious of sleeping in the same room. As long as I didn’t turn in his direction, he wouldn’t see my defenseless face as I slept. There was still distance between us.

He hasn’t noticed that I’m awake, has he?

My heart was thumping like mad. The sound was ringing in my ears, and there was no sign of it settling down.

My cheeks were burning. It was below freezing outside, but I was hot and uncomfortable in my futon.

I was worried Asamura might hear my rough breathing, so I pulled my cover up over my head.

“She’s kind and honest…and a hard worker. That’s how our Saki is.”

That was what he said. I was sure of it. Saki. He called me Saki. Not Ayase.

I had gotten up to go to the bathroom and realized that Asamura wasn’t in his futon. But in my sleepy state, I couldn’t consider any more than that and left the room simply thinking, Oh, he isn’t here.

I was walking back down the long corridor, a little lost, when I heard his voice from behind a sliding door.

I hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. I just happened to step a little closer.

I could hear him clearly when he declared that he had no complaints about Mom.

And that wasn’t all. He even defended me. I didn’t know what had led him to say something like that, but…

Kind and honest. A hard worker. I hadn’t expected him to say those things about me. I began to wonder if I was even worthy of such praise.

It made me happy, and at the same time, I started feeling scared.

I hadn’t trained myself to be lovable. All I had to do when facing someone looking to attack was arm myself.

But I’d never thought about getting someone I liked to like me back.

Well, of course I hadn’t. I been completely preoccupied with preparing to live on my own. I’d never felt the need to get along with anyone else.

All that fell apart six months ago.

I’d told Asamura that I wouldn’t expect anything from him, and I didn’t want him to expect anything from me. At the time, I hadn’t even considered trying to make him like me. And that wasn’t the end of it. The only reason I’d been nice to his dad was because I didn’t want to destroy Mom’s happiness.

Not only did Asamura agree to our deal, but he also took the time to talk it over with me.

I fell in love with him before I knew it, and I came to understand that Dad wasn’t simply the man Mom was marrying; he was also a nice person.

From there, I gradually started to think that I, too, should take care of people important to the one I loved.

I could have made up an excuse and avoided coming here to visit Dad’s relatives. I could have told them I had to study or that I had work at the bookstore. I don’t think they would have forced me to come if I said I didn’t want to.

I was the one who volunteered.

As Dad brought up in the car, there was no telling if the four of us would get the chance to go on more trips together in the future, and Mom had mentioned that he was very close to his relatives in Nagano.

I wanted to like the people important to the one I loved, and I wanted them to like me, too.

But interacting with distant relatives I didn’t share any blood with was tougher than I’d thought. I was the daughter of Dad’s second wife. It was difficult for Mom and I to come to an understanding with people we didn’t know well when we were out of our element, and it took us time to develop a mutual understanding with them. In a situation like that, you need someone to act as a shield, someone who can help you fit in with that wider group of people.

Asamura served as that shield.

Or maybe I should say he was more like packing material. Dad probably played the same role when he talked to Step-Grandfather.

Thanks to them, I got the feeling the old man’s gaze would be a little softer from now on. If he’d gotten over his preconceptions, maybe I could be a little less tense, too.

Of course, it also meant that I would be the shield when he met my relatives.

I’d long ago decided to live on my own. But now I was considering moving forward by someone else’s side—with Asamura.

I turned my attention to the quiet, empty hallway. There was no sign of anyone approaching. I figured Mom was busy talking with Dad’s relatives. Right now, Asamura and I were the only ones in the room.

I carefully peeled back my cover and crawled over to his futon. I gently touched his shoulder. It wasn’t like me to touch someone’s body without asking, especially if I didn’t know when our parents might come back into the room.

I murmured his name on a whim, just because I wanted to.

“Thanks, Yuuta.”

Then I snuggled up against his back. There was almost zero distance between us, and it seemed as if his warmth and love were flowing into my body through my palms.

Like melted ice crystals, reason can turn into an irregular mineral with an awkward shape. But at that moment, I thought even that awkwardness was beautiful. Asamura stiffened up, and it felt like an eternity passed before he hesitantly called my name. All the while, I remained motionless, still touching his body.

Afterword

Thank you for purchasing Volume 6 of Days with My Stepsister. I’m Ghost Mikawa, creator of the original YouTube series and author of the novel, and I have some news that I absolutely must share.

Yes, that’s right! This series is getting an anime adaptation. The other day, it was decided that Days with My Stepsister would be made into a TV anime. I am especially excited that the cast of the YouTube series will be able to reprise their roles in the anime. I’m ecstatic to be able to share this wonderful news with you, and I owe it to everyone who has supported this series up until now. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. It will be a while before the series airs, but I hope you’ll look forward to it.

And now for the acknowledgments. I want to thank the illustrator, Hiten; the voice actors Yuki Nakashima, Kouhei Amasaki, Ayu Suzuki, Daiki Hamano, and Minori Suzuki; the director of the YouTube series, Yuusuke Ochiai; as well as the rest of the staff, my editor, O, the manga artist Yumika Kanade, and everyone else who’s been involved in the process. And of course, I’d like to thank all you readers for your continued support.

This is Ghost Mikawa, signing off for now.