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"What about you, Maa-chan, do you even remember?" I retort defiantly, convinced that Mayu couldn't possibly forget.
After all, for Maa-chan, the most important thing, what she cherishes most, is her memories with Mii-kun.
If those were lost, Maa-chan might stop being human, you know?

"It was about keeping an eye out."
"'Be careful not to get your clothes dirty when you eat ohagi,' right? You have to remember properly," Mayu warns me, a hint of anger in her voice, about how to handle memories.
"Ah, right, right. Wait, isn't that something *you* should be careful about, Maa-chan?" I say cheerfully, deceiving her, while clicking my tongue inwardly. *So close. I mixed it up with daifuku.* That's a lie, though.
The grip on my pinky doesn't loosen, and Mayu transitions straight into her pledge.
"'I... umm... won't knife. Mii-kun won't cheat. If we lie...'" *I'll rip your heart out through your nose.* No, that's just something I made up. Mayu's actual words trail off, and she just shakes our linked pinkies up and down. Wait, she sneakily made *me* promise something too. Not that I mind.
After that, we started walking, our pinkies still linked. The notion that this is some profound enlightenment activity, demonstrating that human bonds shouldn't rely on trifles like the red string of fate but must be forged by our own hands, is, needless to say, a complete fabrication. However, the fact that the tip of my pinky feels heavier, as if engorged with blood, is undeniable. You're not allowed to point out that my finger isn't actually cut off or anything.
"Tomorrow, I'll be home. I'll play with Mii-kun at home," Mayu reports, having apparently finalized tomorrow's schedule.
"Mm, roger that."
When she says "play," it means things like watching TV on the sofa while hugging and kissing, or enjoying the daytime view from the bed while hugging and kissing. It's all very easy on the wallet and the environment, you see. Though I suspect it might induce a famine in my brain cells. Parallel to that, I also need to get my textbooks and bag ready.
Man, I'm so looking forward to tomorrow, today feels just like the day before a field trip. Although, our elementary school field trips involved walking the entire way to a mountaintop destination.

······ Anyway, before that tomorrow arrives.
Yesterday she managed to walk back on her own two feet, but what about today?
*No good.*
"Huh? What is?"
The one who voiced a question to my status report, using superficial polite language, was not the lovely genius (partially exaggerated and fraudulently represented) Mayu.
We walk a loop around the elementary school, which serves as the halfway point back to the apartment. Along the way, Mayu ran out of steam while waiting at a traffic light on a small road. Now she's gnawing on my back, breathing heavily.
And so, while heading home with this burden on my legs and back, near the scene of Yoshihito Kyoda's murder, I encountered two "young maidens." As for the veracity of that expression, well, let's just go with it since they're younger than me.
Biwashima Yagoto and Ichimiya Kawana. The two friends were apparently enjoying a night stroll.

Running into classmates on a street where people are on alert due to a murder was unexpected. Though somewhat taken aback, I spoke to the pair, who seemed out of place for this night, which brings us to the present.
"'Anyway, Senpai, what are you doing? Carrying another senpai on your back—'" Biwashima interrogates me with suspicious eyes. Ichimiya is giggling, though it's unclear what's funny.
"'Uh, well, just a bit of nighttime PK, you know.'" The reason I blurted that out was... well, it was meaningless nonsense that would likely lead to an endless spiral of lies if questioned further. See? Biwashima is too dumbfounded to speak, and Ichimiya is still just smiling.
They're both wearing the school uniform, and in addition, Biwashima has a shinai bag slung over her shoulder, probably with a bamboo sword inside. Are they acting as the Beautification Committee, just the two of them, patrolling the night streets according to some directive from the student council?
When I ask about it, the reply is, "It's for self-defense. If I walk around carrying this, I can pretend I'm on my way home from club activities and mostly get away with it." I almost accept this with a dismissive "Huh," but doubts arise about the slightly disturbing reason for carrying it. That triggers a further sense of unease about the situation – encountering classmates late at night near a murder scene.
"'Speaking of which, Senpai, there's a rumor you're living with Misono-senpai, right?'" Biwashima says this not casually, but gravely, mixing in contempt. She adds, "Filthy." Is she a clean freak, or does she just hold a personal grudge against sickeningly lovey-dovey couples? Her gaze goes past me, tormenting Mayu. *I wanted to see too.* That's a lie, though. I shift my shoulder slightly to block her line of sight.
"'Filthy people don't belong in a beautiful world, I feel.'" Spoken like a true Beautification Committee member, quick to denounce filth even when it takes human form. She's absolutely right. But where exactly is this "beautiful world" supposed to be?
Humans are strong, and the world is vast, but neither is exactly pristine. Because both are being used.
"'Now, now, isn't it a bit much to just swallow rumors whole? With modern science, smoke can rise even where there's no fire.'"
"'Then what's that on your back?'"
"'Mmm, like I said, the nighttime first pitch—'"
"'Envy, envious, enviable, you are.'" Ichimiya interjects for the first time, with her refined, composed face, wielding her freshly coined words.
Hearing it again really makes one appreciate the profound depths of the Japanese language. That's a lie, though.
"'I wanted to live with Yoshihito too, but... the po-po-lice, the police took him away.'"
"'My condolences.'" I instinctively used polite language with someone younger than me. Besides, that Japanese just now... "taken by the po-po-lice"... she means his body, right? So she wanted to live under the same roof as *that*? Not the living Yoshihito, then? No creepy crawlies ran down my spine causing a chill at the thought.

After all, the entire student body witnessed Ichimiya lose her mind over Yoshihito's death during morning assembly. Her wandering the school halls afterwards, skipping classes, and the way she apparently fought back against teachers who tried to intervene – it's all burned into my memory. And I've heard the rumors at school about her roaming the streets late at night with Biwashima.
Ichimiya Kawana is rapidly decomposing and reconstituting herself. However, the element of common sense that used to bind her various parts together has been replaced with madness.
For Ichimiya, there's nothing on Earth that can compensate for the existence of Souda Yoshihito.
So, Ichimiya. What are you doing wandering around the place where your boyfriend was beaten to death?
As if sensing my confusion, Ichimiya takes a step forward. And that's when I notice she's gripping a metal bat – beloved by baseball boys, also usable as a date companion. For me, it's the archetypal weapon, so I instinctively tense up.
"'I'm looking for the person who murdered Yoshihito. To kill them. I've decided to kill them back,'" the Beautification Vice Chair declared her vengeance with a smile, in fluent Japanese. Ah, so that's the direction she's gone off in. Towards the most troublesome path: the budding of the Code of Hammurabi.
Ichimiya lowers her hand, letting the bat blend into the night, its tip disappearing from view. Mayu stops gnawing and just presses her mouth against my back—is she perhaps tasting my cold sweat?
"'Are you the killer?'"
"'No, heavens no.'" I denied it instantly. Though, the killer would do the same, wouldn't they?
It seems like, how should I put it, strolling around weapon-in-hand has become a huge local trend among the rural youth. I wish they'd just quietly use them at the batting cages or move to the city to train as sushi chefs or something.
"'Then what about that female over there?'"
"'She's not a 'female,' she's Maa-chan.'"
I demanded a correction for Ichimiya's insult without any hesitation. Well, my brain was screaming danger, but the eighty percent of me that constitutes my 'idiot couple' persona just went ahead and did it. That's a lie, though. I made my point emphatically.
"'Oh, really? It doesn't matter. Pig is fine, then. So, you. How can you de-declare declare with such certainty that you're not the killer?'"
Something coating the surface of Ichimiya's words feels somehow similar in quality to Mayu when she's outside. Faced with that Ichimiya, I couldn't muster the spirit to correct her again. Next it would just be 'maggot' or something anyway.
"'Because Yoshihito and I were in the same group for walking to elementary school together. We were friends.'" It was proof of identity akin to some all-boys school student bragging, 'Yeah, I'm friends with the best karate fighter in Japan, y'know.' And it wasn't a reason for anything. But, the effect was outstanding.
"'Is that so. Envy, envious, enviable.'" Ichimiya, expressing her envy like verb conjugations, wore precisely the smile of an angelic mother-in-law. The difference between her and a Bludgeoning Angel is that she can't kill in a single blow, and if she chanted a resurrection spell, a voice from the heavens would just reject her with 'Incorrect spell.'

I really want to recommend a good hospital to Ichimiya. Though the female doctor I'd recommend isn't around anymore.
"'So, what's your reason for accompanying her, Biwashima?'" Averting my gaze from Ichimiya, I direct the question to Biwashima.
"'Well, it's more like... if Kawana is satisfied with this...'" Biwashima expresses undisguised pity for her friend who's gone off the deep end through her tone. Her expression is downcast, and she only stares fixedly at Ichimiya out of the corner of her eye.
"'If Kawana says she's going to do it, I'll at least cooperate.'"
"'But Yagoto, I won't let *you* lay a hand on them. It must be killed by the me of Yoshihito, by Yoshihito, for Yoshihito.'" Ichimiya, whose grammar is malfunctioning. Biwashima nods with a faintly gentle, guardian-like tone, "Yes, that's right."
"'Besides, there is also something that I must take ba- take back take back with my own hands,'" Ichimiya smiles serenely, the dark circles under her eyes, betraying fatigue, creasing. *Take back?*
For my part, I wanted to react with something like, *'Ooh, listen to Miss High-and-Mighty,'* but I restrained myself since I'm carrying Mayu right now. Can't make a quick getaway.
"'Well, try not to get picked up by the police. Also, you're girls, so be careful on the streets at night. And... try not to aim at the wrong target.'"
"'We're being careful even without you telling us.'" Biwashima bluntly rejects her senpai's advice and urges Ichimiya, "Let's go." This time, Ichimiya agrees gracefully like a guardian, "Yes, yes," and makes to leave, giving the bat a swing through the empty air. Just before she does, Ichimiya's eyes, her irises unnaturally clear as if ripened, fix on me, tormenting.
"'You too, even if you fi- find find the killer, don't kill them.'"
An instruction I had no need to take to heart.
Ichimiya and Biwashima slip past me and walk away. The softball club member and the kendo club member, each carrying their respective club equipment. If the killer has already stopped their late-night prowling, how long will these girls keep heading out into the night city? Come spring, they can enjoy the cherry blossoms at night, too. I hope it sublimates into a nice hobby for them – a careless wish, since it's none of my business.

"...... Hup." I stop watching them go and readjust Mayu on my back. She's not heavy. Still, if I were to tell her, 'You're quite plump, aren't you?', Mayu would have no choice but to diligently try to lose weight.
The reason Maa-chan would want to get thinner is so Mii-kun won't hate her, after all.
*"That's... everything to Maa-chan, isn't it......"* What a girl, so devoted yet so lost. At least let's get home without getting lost. With that futile resolve, I start walking again.
And then, after walking a few hundred meters.
I come face-to-face with one more person I hadn't expected to encounter.
I had a little sister. Ah, I guess I don't need to use the past tense anymore.

Because there she is, under the streetlight, glaring right at me.
Time to remove the (provisional) and (presumed). It's time for certainty.
To my left, a small river with a little bridge over it. Further ahead, two tennis courts. The lights faintly illuminate the empty courts, keeping the night at bay from the scattered balls. To my right, a long, unbroken wall of a windowless house. Alright, time to end this escapist journey of my gaze.
I take a brief look at my sister's clothes. An off-turtleneck pullover covers her wrists, actually, even part of her hands. Bought anticipating future growth, perhaps? Or maybe purchased without seeing it in person? Over that, a gray knit dress adorned with a ribbon at the chest. This is also a little too big.
It's the same outfit as the other time, but thankfully, someone's blood has been washed off.
Maybe her height hasn't increased much; she gives the impression of an elementary schooler.

Even as I approach, this time she doesn't "advance backwards."
I swallow, steeling myself to face the facts.
After a single glance up at the sky, I too step into the position bathed in the streetlight's glow.
We face each other. Me and my sister.
The living playing dead, and the dead playing living.
My sister's small lips stirred, unburdened.
"'Anii-chaan.'"
"'I-mou-to.'"
We both shrug. Just like my sister. Her sharpened, twisted sensibilities would never allow her to call me 'brother' properly. Verbally, I'm the same.
Normally, this would be the point where I demand reimbursement for all the round-trip fares and tears shed visiting her grave. However, in the process of drawing up the invoice, I realized both amounts came to zero. I almost jumped the gun with threats and needlessly embarrassed myself. That's a lie, though. ...... Well then, what should I do?
The words don't follow. I bottle up the clamoring inside.
Reuniting after so many years... that happened with Mayu too, but.
This is a different kind of impatience, a smoldering.
My missing sister, whom I accidentally ran into the other day, and now tonight, meeting and exchanging words.
All sorts of things, swirling and spinning, churn inside me.
Do I want to press my forehead? Scratch my cheek? Stamp my feet hard? I can't even settle on a way to release it.
My skin prickling in the cold air, the tip of my nose dry, the dull ache in the scar on my kneecap.
Am I happy? Empty? Is this real or a dream?
This haze, the source of the impulse to abandon everything and crush it underfoot.
What am I supposed to say to someone who was alive all along?
The confusion induces nausea, and my mind, sensing danger, applies a remedy.
My scorched brain whispers in my ear.
And thus, I finally grasp the truth of lies.
That I should just state the facts.
"So you were alive."
These words, which seem like mere confirmation. Do they still carry the weight of a thousand emotions, I wonder?
My sister averts her eyes for just a moment and snorts softly. As if to shut down any path towards sentimentality, I brace myself as my sister's fist comes flying. She punches me square in the chest, and my breathing becomes markedly ragged.

"'Don't just kill me off whenever you feel like it, Worker Ant,'" she calls me by my old name in a masculine tone. Her affected tone, like some rival character feigning death only to reappear dramatically later, makes it all the more amusing.
"'Are you in middle school now?'"
Despite there being countless other questions I practically had a duty to ask, that's what came out first.
My sister's silent response says, 'You don't even need to ask that.' She glares at me with vividly malicious eyes. Ah, those eyes. My sister's eyeballs, unchanged, un-grown.
"'Who was that woman just now?'"
My sister interrogated her brother, jealousy written all over her face. Of course, that's a total lie, impossible, but... the woman just now? Based on the timeframe 'just now,' the only candidates are the pair of Biwashima Yagoto and Ichimiya Kawana. But if she's asking about them, that makes my sister quite the stalker.
My sister's gaze grows even sharper. *Just like Maa-chan.*
"'Which woman?' I asked, testing her."
"'The stupid-looking one.'"
Again, which one? That's too subjective for me to answer. Though I understood she meant them. My sister, perhaps giving up because a prompt answer wasn't forthcoming, cuts off the conversation.
"'What about the one on your back?'"
My sister's interrogation continues. It seems no one can help but stare at Mayu's stunning beauty. Well, yeah, I guess anyone would ask if someone's asleep on your back.
"'Maa-chan. She's my...'" (*Mark.*) "'...precious person.'"
For a moment, I thought my sister's cheek twitched. What's with that reaction? Is she holding back laughter at how unsuitable it sounds? How cruel. If my own facial muscles were more cooperative, I'd be rolling on the floor laughing too. That's a lie, though.
A strange pause forms between us, the tinnitus of silence chirping. An icy wind, threatening snow, rushes past, making the night-dyed trees sway. For me, it became a tailwind.
The flame of my sense of duty – that as the older brother, I must speak up and smooth things over – is fanned by the strong wind and blazes up. That's a lie, though.
I just wanted to either end the conversation or get on with it quickly because I was cold.
"'Uh, so, do you have plans after this?'"
It sounded just like asking her out for a meal. There were countless things I should be asking – her whereabouts, what she's been doing all this time – but I can't bring myself to start. Even 'Why didn't you come see me?' should probably be a high-priority question.
And just like that, I earn my sister's suspicion.
"'No, I just meant, is there some purpose to your night walks? The other day too,'" —near the murder scene— "'it seemed like you were out playing at night.'"
She can't be unaware of the current situation in town.
My sister turns away – whether towards the day after tomorrow or yesterday, I can't tell the direction. I counter by looking up at the night sky. While I'm at it, I readjust my grip deeper on Mayu's thighs and straighten my back.

Beyond the glow of the streetlights, the abode of endless night. A sky thick with dark clouds, houses like unblinking fluorescent lights. A view without impurities, purely black. And then my sister kicks me in the shin. ...What is *wrong* with this girl?
Well, she used to use rocks and stuff back in the day, so compared to that—
*[Sound of extreme distress/scream]*
I understood the expression "ear-splitting."
For a second, I mistook it for a stray dog nursing on my back.
I had the illusion that several seconds of my own personal time had been blown away.
Before anyone could convey anything, we could only brace ourselves against the sudden event.
Mayu stirs, shrieks, howls.
She thrashes as if trying to tear off her own limbs, shakes off my arms, and falls to the ground.
Shouting "Mayu—!" as I spin around, I realized my blunder.
Darkness isn't limited to indoors, after all.
What was I thinking, letting her sleep in this environment?
I grab the arms of Mayu, who's writhing in agony and banging her head on the ground, pull her up, and hold her down. Her hat falls off in the process. Mayu resists in her own way, baring her teeth as if to rip the flesh from my shoulder. Heat and pain flood the spot where they bite down. She tries her utmost to break free, crushing my arm and the nape of my neck with a grip strong enough to easily tear through thin clothing. Her fingers dig into my muscles so hard, and my shoulder overflows with so much blood, that I feel certain I'll die if Mayu keeps resisting like this for an hour. Still, Mayu should calm down within an hour, so I decided to just stay like this.
"'Sorry. But it's okay. It's okay, Maa-chan.'" Stroking her back, I savor the meaning of the word 'empty'.
My sister, standing there unreactively, felt somehow distant.
My clothes, and the skin on my shoulder, tear. Only when the flesh underneath was gouged did Mayu finally go limp. Neither Mayu nor I had any way to stop the sweat running into our eyes; to an onlooker, it probably looked like we were crying.

Mayu is shedding genuine tears. Is she coming to her senses?
The hairstyle she spent time fixing this morning has been reduced to a mess worse than bedhead.
Saliva seeps from Mayu's mouth as white foam, wetting my shoulder.
And the blood from her nose. The tears from her eyes.
None of it holds any warmth; it conveys only a cold sentiment.
Mayu swallows the piece of my flesh.
Only her throat moved; no strength remained anywhere else in her body as she was simply held by me.
Just like I once was, held that way by my sister's mother.
"'God, God, God... Help me...'"
I lower my eyes and hug Mayu's back tightly. *Gyuu.*
Mayu's poignant plea echoes endlessly in my ears.

Mayu believed in Santa Claus, and she believed in Tanabata. And she believed in God, too.
But back then, she was betrayed.
Eyes open. Along with an "Nngh," I spit out an unpleasant memory. Want to get rid of it quickly, forget it.
"'Maa-chan, calm down. Look, look around you.'"
I loosen my arm around her back and make Mayu lift her face. Helping her do so, I watch as Mayu's eyes dart around frantically. Does she not register my sister standing there with arms crossed and lips pressed into a line? Or does she ignore her, treating her like the house wall?
"'We're outside. You're safe now, Maa-chan. The bullies, everyone who hurt you, they're all gone.'" *It's all thanks to you. It's not your fault. Probably.*
Mayu regains control of her body. She grabs my neck and leans against me, clinging.
"'Really?' 'Really.' 'Really really really? Mii-kun, Mii-kun, are you...'"
"'See, I'm right here,' I lie again. I stroke her head, deceiving Mayu, and deceiving the sliver of conscience I have left."
"'Have you forgotten? You're living with me now, Maa-chan.'"
I can't even put on a mask of a smile......
Why is that? When I'm close to Mayu, my facial muscles commit sabotage.
Is it that, maybe? Guilt?
No way.
I don't possess such a praiseworthy thing, do I?
Mayu nods so hard it looks like her head might snap off. Impressed she remembered properly.
"'Yes, yes, that's right. Mii-kun is here, so I'm here, and...'"
Secretions from her tear ducts flow into her mouth, interrupting her words. And then, "Tears?" Mayu seems to become aware of her own emotional water for the first time. The hand that left finger marks on my neck lets go and wipes her face.
"'These are tears. Happy... tears. See? Ehe, ehehehe, ehekukuku.'"
Mayu, telling lies through her tearful laughter, tries to deceive me. I decided to be easily deceived.
"'Such a crybaby, Maa-chan. Though I like that part of you too.'"
"'Mm-hm, mm-hm, I'm a crybaby, right? I can't... without Mii-kun.'"
Mayu clings to me as if consuming prey. She's probably unaware, but her fingers plunge deep into the crater on my shoulder. Something like a "Hff, hff" reached the back of my nose, but I gritted my back teeth and endured it. Honestly, I wanted to writhe in agony like an alien bursting from my stomach.
Perhaps because she touched sticky blood and sharp bone, Mayu tilts her head stiffly. Exactly like a little girl, knowing no moderation, bending a doll's neck.
"'Your shoulder's showing. Blood, and white stuff too.'"
"'This? Oh, I hit a telephone pole while driving distracted. What about you, Maa-chan, are you hurt?'"
"'Eh? Mm, mm-hmm, no, I'm fine. Because Mii-kun's here.'"
It seems bleeding from the forehead doesn't count as an injury for Mayu. She seems suited to being a martial artist, but she *is* a habitual offender when it comes to weapon attacks. Guess that's no good, huh?