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And there, I find myself superimposing the image of my sister onto it.
……………………… 」 The ringing in my ears intensifies. I lightly press my right ear.
My half-sister (sharing the same father). Kindergarten teachers and children her own age used to describe her as being like a doll. Though it was clear from their hesitant manner that the comparison was to one of those Japanese dolls whose hair supposedly grows. My sister wasn't so much ostracized by the boys and girls her age as she was feared. Her mastery of abusive language, coupled with a personality that flaunted it without hesitation, was another reason she was treated as a troublesome presence.
That sister of mine had dubbed me ‘Worker Ant’. The clear message embedded in those two words was a manifestation of the fact that this girl, who shared half my blood, didn’t regard me as human. Since the blockhead I was back then didn't find it particularly odd, I can only assume my empty head must have been stuffed with dreams (read: delusions), leftover New Year's *osechi*, and who knows what else. It's definitely not because I was some doting older brother. Seriously.
Setting aside my frustration towards my past self, my sister ruthlessly exploited her ‘Worker Ant’. I even pedaled my bike to ferry her to and from the mountains, her hunting grounds. On snowy days, I even spent half a day building a *kamakura* snow hut all by myself for her. Among these tasks, the one I performed most often was preparing mandarin oranges. My sister was the kind of creature who could seemingly survive on nothing but mandarin oranges, and her skin even had a yellowish tint. I was ordered by my sister to peel the mandarins and assigned the task of removing every last bit of the white pith. If even a speck remained, that mandarin would be used as a projectile.
My sister also had bizarre eating habits, possessing a peculiar compulsion to taste all sorts of things.
The goldfish she’d scooped up at the Tanabata festival we attended together, she grilled and chewed the next day, commenting, ‘It smells fishy and tastes like mud.’ She also once captured and butchered a neighbor's Shiba Inu (a neighbor far enough away you could enjoy running the 100-meter dash at least three times to get there), scraping off the meat to make yakiniku. Later, when she was found out as the culprit, my old man beat her with enough force to suggest he intended to kill her, satisfying both his penchant for corporal punishment and his own cruel tastes. My kind-hearted childhood self back then (ignore my earlier self-criticism) undertook the admirable act of shielding my sister, only to have my face smashed in so badly I probably looked like I was about to gurgle "Abeshi!" After my old man went off to the bathroom to wash away the sweat from his 'exercise,' my sister, for some reason, kicked me in the back too.
The bittersweet memory of the day I first truly understood the meaning of "adding insult to injury" comes flooding back, floating on the surface of my mind... That last bit's a lie, though.
So, despite being like that, she put on an innocent act for her own mother. In front of her mother, her usual artificial, vacant expression would melt away like spring snow, and she'd be tugging at her hem, calling, "Mommy, Mommy." Including the fact she never once called me ‘brother’, she probably perceived her mother as her only family. And she probably wasn't wrong about that.

And then, before she even started elementary school, my sister disappeared without a trace. My sister, who was obsessed with her 'game' of slaughtering dogs and other animals in the hills and fields, went out as usual that Sunday and never came home. As her designated chauffeur, I waited at the foot of the mountain, and when evening started to fade, I searched through the woods for her. But eventually, as night fell, I hurried home. I reported it immediately to my sister's mother, and after waiting for dawn, search efforts began, but neither my sister alive nor her body could be found.
I have a vague feeling my sister's mother cried, and I also have a feeling she sighed.
My old man seemed vexed, his face grim. Maybe he was thinking, "Damn, I didn't get to torment her enough"?
My older brother was pleased he'd have someone to talk to in heaven. That's a lie, though. He firmly believed that no friend was superior to a book, and since he'd never shown the slightest interest in our sister, he probably didn't even remember her face. Vice versa, too.
And me? What was I thinking back then?
Was it so commonplace that I can't even recall it, just another frame in daily life? Or perhaps there's something wrong with my memory?
Maybe if I clawed at my scalp, something might bubble up, but Koibi-sensei isn't at the psychiatric department anymore. And I don't feel any urge to actively seek that kind of help. Oh well, doesn't matter about me.

My sister's identity, her personality. Considering those, and then thinking about the current incidents...
I'm not about to claim she was raised by wild dogs and turned out just fine.
...But still, no one ever officially confirmed her death.

That chilling realization acts like a splash of icy water, bringing my consciousness into sharp focus. My vision steadies, and the outlines of things around me sharpen.
"You're spacing out."
"Do you have a habit of falling asleep with your eyes open or something?"
Biwashima says sarcastically, looking at me with accusing eyes. However, mindful of Ichinomiya running the committee meeting, her voice is kept low.
I offer a mild denial, "Nah," adding, "Just lost in a bit of a fantasy."
"Figured as much. If you weren't lost in thought, you'd just be some creep."
She bluntly radiates hostility.
Still, people who openly detested me were surprisingly rare.
The kidnapping and confinement incident from eight years ago. To the world, I'm more often seen not as the victim, but as the criminal's relative, his son. So it makes sense I get the 'handle with care' treatment, though for different reasons than Sugawara or Mayu.
"What were you thinking about?"
Biwashima's attitude softens just a bit. Perhaps her mood had recovered slightly; the look in her eyes softened.

"What Ichinomiya was talking about earlier."
Right now, he's holding forth on the importance of resources, complete with exaggerated gestures.
"You mean the stuff about the doggies and kitties getting killed?"
Only the dogs got the preferential, affectionate name. (Internal thought: Should it be 'Mii-chan' for cats, then? I mused, hypothesizing about preferential treatment among pet lovers.)

"Yeah, basically. Any thoughts on it, Biwashima?"
"They should either stop the culprit immediately, or just catch them already."
Biwashima declares this without hesitation. Her conviction sparks a faint interest in me.
"Do you have a dog at home or something?"
"That's not my reason. Simply put, it's to protect world peace."
(Internal thought) Whoa, impressive. How about protecting the peace inside your own head first, huh?
Biwashima, her expression dead serious, continues.
"I mean, it's dangerous, isn't it? There's no telling when the target might switch to humans."
"Ah, well, yeah..." (Internal thought: Humans are animals too, after all.)
(Internal thought) Still, it's hard to see this as some huge incident in this rural backwater that's going to make global news, really. Aren't kids these days a bit *too* globally aware? This 'senpai' here is getting worried.
"Dangerous people should just be cleaned out of town."
She grumbled, looking straight at me. (Internal thought) I stared back earnestly, deeply moved not only by the nobility of her consciousness as a member of the Beautification Committee, but also convinced by the workings of fate, sometimes hidden, sometimes revealed, that Biwashima had truly found her calling. That's a lie, though.
Biwashima looked away, and around that point, the persistent ringing in my ears finally stopped.
(Internal thought) Surely she doesn't suspect *me*? Me? That'd be way too cliché.
(Internal thought) Besides, even if it's exaggerated, her awareness of the danger is pretty representative of the local sentiment. And yet, from the culprit's point of view, it's Biwashima's conclusion that's the dangerous way of thinking, isn't it?
(Internal thought) Really, things depend on your perspective, huh?

"You two over there!" Ichinomiya calls out intimidatingly. "Your lips have been moving for quite some time, but are your eardrums vibrating at all? (Meaning: Are you even listening?)"
I respond like a model student, "Ah, yes, sir."
(Internal thought) All lies, though.

The committee meeting ended with Chairperson Souda's rather slack closing remarks, and I headed back to the classroom at a brisk pace.
Wondering if Mayu was still face-down on her desk, I opened the classroom door to an unfamiliar sight.

3.

The classroom, stained a stinging orange by the sunset. Mayu was sitting up, facing some unfamiliar boy! Maybe because she'd just woken up, her eyes were narrowed in a sleepy glare, but the boy—wasn't he smiling as he talked to her?! And this boy, what's more, didn't he have one of those disgustingly refreshing, clean-cut faces—the kind where his snot probably looks like minty mouthwash?! (Internal thought) Not a single lie in that description. Outrageous!
(Internal thought) My thoughts went from "Huh, weird," to a suspicious, country-bumpkin "Wha's goin' on here?" before landing on a frantic Edo-ite's "Trouble! Trouble!" Joking aside, just as I decided that since they looked busy, I might as well barge right in, Mayu spotted me.
She immediately grabbed her bag, ignored the boy, and ran over to me. The red imprint of her arm on her forehead and brow, plus her messy bangs, created an interesting imbalance with her usual Noh-mask expression.

"Where were you?"
She questions me, her tone flat. (Internal thought) I'm sure I left her a note, but I guess she doesn't trust me, huh.
"Committee meeting. Anyway, ready to head home?"
Leaving Mayu, who gives a small nod, waiting there, I head over to my desk to grab my bag. On the way, my eyes met the boy she'd left behind. He smiled at me. Goosebumps threatened to erupt all over, and I wasn't sure how to respond. Got a feeling we wouldn't get along. Pretending the sunset was stinging my eyes, I looked away without reacting.
"...Hmm?" On top of my bag lay a blank, planner-sized sheet of paper. Not the one I'd left for Mayu. I picked it up and checked the back, finding the mysterious three katakana characters: A-KE-CHI. And then the person responsible came to mind: Fushimi Yuyu.
Looks like she stopped by the classroom at some point too. She's the only one who'd make demands of me using blank, wordless notes. Guessing its meaning this time, based on past experience... and since I've been away for so long, it must mean, 'Time to show up for club activities.'
(Internal thought) When dealing with eccentrics, it's best to just dive in and get used to it. Though the meaning of "Akechi" seems a bit outside the standard second-year high school curriculum. Then again, it'd be weirder if the Student Council Secretary *wasn't* eccentric. In fact, I hope she goes even further off the rails, maybe falls in love with a man-eating monster or something. Holding onto that hope, I grab my bag.
・Wait, was she the Disciplinary Committee secretary, actually?
As I fantasized about this and stuffed the note into my desk drawer, the sound of someone calling out to Mayu from across the room registered somewhere around the upper right side of my head.

"Waiting for you at the club!"
"I'm not going."
After dismissing the boy's lighthearted invitation with a single glance and curt word, Mayu fixes her gaze on me. Her right side bathed in the slanting, lonely twilight, her eyes lock onto me, hard as fossils.
Like a moth to a flame (because being compared to a moth is apparently gross in animal fortune-telling), I walk over to Mayu, and we leave the classroom together. As I shut the door, I glanced back once. The boy was gazing at the setting sun. (Internal thought) Better remember that guy's face. He gives off major 'might steal your girl' vibes. Just a hunch, though.

3.

Then, once we were out in the hallway, before we'd even taken ten steps, I couldn't help but ask.
"So, who was that guy back there?"
(Internal thought) If this was Natsuki-san, I'd probably open with, "So, when should we schedule the wedding?" Can't exactly do that with Mayu, though. If it'd been one of the teachers, I'd probably have checked her age first...
Mayu frowned, and for some reason, the corner of her mouth twitched.
"Dunno. Said he's from the drama club. Annoying."
(Internal thought) Three short sentences covering ignorance, information, and opinion. Come to think of it, the guy did mention club activities. So Mayu's in the drama club, huh?
At this school, all students are technically required to join a club. Mayu probably just picked the drama club without a second thought, intending to be a ghost member. Incidentally, I'm in the Amateur Radio Club. Despite having only two members, I hold the title of Vice President. Naturally.
Since you can't change clubs for a year, Mayu has to wait until April to join the Amateur Radio Club. If not for that rule, she'd probably have already kicked out the club president and arranged things so it was just the two of us. The 'club activities' in that scenario need no explanation.
"What were you talking about?"
"I can guess from the context he was trying to get you to come to club activities, but I'll ask just in case." (Internal thought) Although I'm not sure what 'just in case' even means here.
"Nothing important... just silly stuff... *Nufufu*."
Maybe because there was no one else in the hall, or maybe she just couldn't suppress it anymore, Mayu burst out laughing, her face splitting into a wide, smug grin.
"*Fuhyuhyu*, you're jealous!"
She starts cheerfully drumming on my shoulder. "I never knew Mii-kun was the jealous type! So narrow-minded! Maa-chan is sooo shocked! Sooo disappointed!" (Internal thought) Yeah, she looks 'super' thrilled about it.
"No, it's not like that. It's just—"
"I'll give you something nice when we get home, so don't pout, okayyy?"
Standing on tiptoe, she pats my head like I'm a good little boy and ruffles my hair. This isn't sitting right with me. My denial got completely ignored, and it's vaguely irritating. Why the hell am I bending down slightly, basically accepting this? (Internal thought) I'll just blame it on the setting sun burning my skin. Yeah, that's the culprit.
(Internal thought) As soon as we get home, Mayu will probably turn into one of those American GIs in a jeep handing out goodies. And because I'll greedily demand like, three sweets, I'll end up chasing her around waving a bamboo spear and spouting gibberish English.
(Internal thought) Yeah, okay, maybe not *exactly* like that. But the basic dynamic feels pretty similar.

In the end, she kept patting my head all the way until we left the school grounds.
Then we walked home holding hands like a happy couple (I swung our arms wildly as we walked, partly out of sheer exasperation), arriving at Mayu's third-floor apartment.
Then, while I was taking my shoes off in the entryway, Mayu attached herself to my back like a parasite.
"What is it?" I ask, frozen mid-shoe-removal, balanced precariously on one leg like a badly executed "Sheeh!" pose. Mayu ignores my instability, clings tightly without reserve, and leans her full weight against me.
"Mii-kun worries too much, so I'm sticking close to help you feel better."
She nuzzles her cheek against my back. (Internal thought) She's really committed to this delusion, but the fun of bursting her bubble depends on the time and place. Besides, it looks like her listening ears are temporarily out of order anyway.
"Guess I'm no match for Maa-chan."
(Internal thought) Not that I feel like fighting it, anyway. The shoe I'd half-removed slips off my toes and falls.
"You know, Maa-chan doesn't need anyone else at all, as long as I have Mii-kun. So you don't have to worry, okay?"
Mayu declares her entire world in a voice full of heat and intensity. Her hands tighten around my waist, squeezing hard.
(Internal thought) Such an extreme way of thinking. Maybe, from a normal human perspective, it's negative, decadent, something to be rejected. But if this is Maa-chan's one clear, brilliant answer for herself... isn't that fine? Just like Koibi-sensei said that one time.
"So Mii-kun only needs me too!"
(Internal thought) Oh, there's more. Naturally, I responded with complete agreement, embracing her and showering her with kisses, declaring, "You're absolutely right! As long as I have Maa-chan, *I* don't even need *me*!" That's a lie, though.
(Internal thought) Yeah, I'll only be able to agree with that statement once I manage to ascend to Mayu's level. Since there's zero chance of her ever coming down, right?
For the next five minutes or so, we remained frozen like that, resembling a statue dedicated to obnoxious couples everywhere, guaranteed to grate on any observer's nerves.
"...Hmm?" (My thought?)
"Ah, right," Mayu says suddenly. "There was something I needed to do."
Mayu releases her prey (me) and carelessly kicks off her shoes. Tossing them aside, she slips on the blue slippers from the entryway and heads *pata-pata* towards the washroom deeper inside, her gait an odd mix of hurried and unsteady steps.
(Internal thought) I suddenly felt something strange about Mayu just now... but eh, I'll just write it off as my imagination.
After tidying my own shoes, I pick up Mayu's and head into the living room. The room has chilled to a temperature seemingly unfit for human habitation, cold enough to make you hesitate to breathe. I shut the door, sealing us in, and switch on the heater. Then, resisting the penetrating cold that makes me want to keep moving, I force myself to sit on the sofa.

While waiting, I decide to clean out Mayu's shoes.
Checking inside, I find the same sight that greeted me months ago: crumpled school handouts jammed together, forming a yellowed sphere. A worthless artifact of neglect, unlikely to grant any wishes no matter how many you collect.
(Muttering) "It's just weird that only her shoes seem like they belong to a guy from an all-boys school..." (Internal resolve) Right, I'll do my best to upgrade them to proper *bishoujo* specifications! (Internal doubt) Though I have absolutely no clue what those specifications actually are.
I kill time playing the game of tossing the paper wad into the trash bin. An intellectual pastime, really, where one learns the profound philosophy that spending time in the most useless way possible is, in fact, the ultimate luxury. Ah, damn, hit the rim.
I throw, retrieve, step back, and try again. Sometimes I vary the monotonous routine with a side-arm throw, or use my left hand. Hard to believe, but I once aspired to be a 'baseball boy'. Please don't misunderstand: not a baseball *player*, a baseball *boy*. Which, incidentally, is why I ended up getting beaten with a metal bat by my father. Reap what you sow, karma's a bitch, falling flat on your face, the whole nine yards. Yes! Swish! Right in the middle! I instinctively strike a victory pose, wipe the sweat from my brow, exhale... and snap back to reality.
"...Oh, god..." Embarrassed at how much fun I was having, a wave of delayed-onset regret washed over me. Simultaneously, the thought, "Am I the happiest person in the world? (Or maybe just the most blissfully ignorant?)" struck me, and for some reason, I felt an overwhelming sense of anxiety.
I realized the room was now thoroughly hot from the heater. The dry air stung my nose and cheeks. I tossed my uniform jacket onto the sofa and stepped out. The cool hallway wall against my flushed skin felt so good I wanted to offer thanks to both it and the winter season itself. I savored the coolness for a moment until I stopped sweating, then decided to go see what Mayu was up to.
I shuffle down the hallway.
As I neared the washroom, I could hear the loud gush of water running from the tap.
And so, with a growing sense of unease, I entered the washroom.

Mayu was bathing herself—in the middle of winter, with cold water.
She had her bared right shoulder thrust under the running tap, frantically scrubbing the skin with a toothbrush. Her hair was soaked from the spray, and her hands were a raw, angry red—the kind that looked like they'd draw blood easily if she hit something. It reminded me of someone I knew back when I was hospitalized, someone who obsessively rubbed and washed their hands. I recall the skin on their hands was damaged raw...
Mayu's head snaps to the left. Her pupils, locking onto me, dilate and seem to brim with an unnatural light.
"Did you come to gargle?"
An innocent smile greets me. Taking my arrival as her cue, perhaps, she turns off the tap and pulls her shoulder out from under it. (Internal thought) They do have hot water here, so... can I relax a little? Probably not.
"Mm, not really. Just checking in. So... what was that all about?"
I dredge up a memory and adopt the gentle tone of a kindergarten teacher.
Mayu gives her sopping wet right shoulder a nonchalant, almost hard-boiled shake, flicking water onto the floor.
"Washing the place that guy touched earlier."
She holds up the toothbrush—bristles frayed from abuse. The red stains and translucent flecks clinging to it are clearly not strawberry toothpaste. (Internal thought) Oh, and incidentally? That's *my* toothbrush.
(Internal thought) Ah well, whatever. We mix them up sometimes anyway. In fact, there was that time Maa-chan, still half-asleep, grabbed my toothbrush *after* I'd used it but *before* I rinsed it, declared, "Mii-kun's toothbrush—!", and proceeded to try and savor it by licking and chewing the bristles. Managed to physically shake her fully awake and avert that particular disaster, though.
(Internal thought) The real issue here is that the guy must have woken her by touching her right shoulder. What has he done? Honestly, it wouldn't be surprising if some creepy old hag started shrieking, "A curse! A curse upon him!" He really did something thoughtless.
Mayu's porcelain-white right shoulder is now a mess of angry red lines from the scrubbing. Patches of skin look almost gouged out, and the oozing blood mixes with the water, staining her shoulder pale pink.
"'Cause other people are dirty, right?"
Mayu says with an innocent smile, shivering slightly. "...Maybe they are," I agree quietly.
Water drips intermittently from her sleeve, from her fingertips. The sight sparks a sense of déjà vu. (Internal thought) Though back then, the drips were redder.
"So, is it clean now?"
Maa-chan proudly displays her handiwork. (Internal thought) Um, how exactly was it 'dirty' before?
"Look, look properly!"
I support Mayu as she presses against me, clinging, and dutifully inspect her scraped shoulder as requested.
(Internal thought) ...If that guy had casually called her 'Maa-chan', our roles might be reversed right now. Hmm, girls sure are scary. Wait, no, she's not really a 'girl' in that sense.
I put on a show of examining it closely. "Yep, looks perfectly normal now," I had to say. If I'd dared to suggest otherwise, her 'cleaning' would probably continue until she'd excavated bone. (Internal thought) In that sense, she too shows glimpses of having the aptitude for the Beautification Committee. That's a lie, though.

"Ahhh, that's goood..." Mayu sighs, relaxing completely and nuzzling her cheek against my chest. As she does, her soaked right side presses against me, reminding me how cold the water must have been. ...I sigh deeply, again and again.
"Maa-chan, *you're* the one who needs to gargle properly. You'll catch cold."
"Ehhh? Noooo," Mayu whines, pouting, though I'm not entirely sure what part she's objecting to.
"'Cause if I get a fever, Mii-kun will stay by my side the whooole time!"

3.

Mayu gives a radiant, dreamy smile. (Internal thought) Hmm, so she was objecting to *preventing* the cold, huh? Which means using the cold water was deliberate—aiming to kill two birds with one stone. I seeee... That whole 'always together' thing...
"But we're always together anyway, aren't we?"
"It's different! You even held my hand super-tight while I was sleeping! I could tell! Usually, Mii-kun isn't right beside me when I sleep!"
She reproaches me like a whining child.
(Internal thought) Okay, *that* particular comment hits me right in the gut. Message received: Sugawara was actually a decent guy (unlike my father). Enough that I almost feel like apologizing to Maa-chan on my father's behalf. Right now, even if I couldn't manage real tears, I could probably put on a convincing show with some eyedrops. Combined with the genuine way that verbal punch to the gut soured my mood, yeah.
(Internal thought) ....... Liiiife is hard. Except, the path we're on isn't really 'life', is it? That's a lie, though.
(Internal thought) It *has* to be 'life', doesn't it... which is why Mayu's path gets drenched in blood.

Afterwards, I warmed up Mayu's skin (using the classic 'couple-stranded-on-a-snowy-mountain' body-heat technique, naturally), we had dinner, and then started on homework in the living room.
Mayu spends the time in her usual way: climbing onto my back, sliding down to curl up by my knees. (Internal thought) So this is what it feels like to be a wall stalked by a gecko. A rare moment of empathy with the inanimate. Also... I sensed this earlier, but could it be...?
"Heeey, are you done yet?"
Mayu drapes an arm around my neck and whines about being bored. If this goes on much longer, my stationery might suffer a sudden "DOKAAAN!" axe kick, or I might find myself impaled by a pencil, "CHUDOOON!" I'm serious, this actually happens.
"Yeah, almost done."
Maybe I'll finish the rest later, after Mayu's tucked in bed. I put my pen down and close my notebook.
It goes without saying at this point, but Mayu has zero academic ability.
Back when we first started living together, I tried playing tutor and asked her what her best subject was. The moment she chirped, "Arithmetic!" I knew it was a lost cause. Later, I jokingly asked her about multiplying fractions. Her reaction—an intensely cute and coquettish "Ukyuu?" accompanied by an impossibly adorable head tilt—was utterly charming, but also confirmed that any attempt at tutoring was beyond hopeless.
"Alright, finished!"
I announce, checking the clock. It's just past seven, so the bath-followed-by-sleep sequence should commence in about half an hour.
Mayu shifts slightly away from me and plops down onto the floor.