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A six-tatami mat room, lavender curtains, two chests of drawers side-by-side, holding about half shonen manga and half shojo manga, and a photo collection book of Amano Katan dolls propped up on a bookshelf that looked appropriate for her age. There was also a black laptop, though an older model, and pajamas that looked like they'd been tossed aside that morning were thrown on the floor. When I stared fixedly at them, she picked them up, and then punched me for good measure. This was the closest form of interaction possible between siblings like us. But I'm the only one who gets hurt. Still, how does a shut-in manage to collect all the manga and clothes on her shelves? Surely she's not making Grandpa run errands for her... Maybe the internet?

Now, this is where more questions start popping up.
There was a cooking stove set up in the corner of the room, and the whole room had a strange smell. There was also a small refrigerator next to the bookshelf... Looks like it's not just her cavities; this hasn't changed either. Let's just pray that, unlike a certain hospital, there isn't a person crammed inside if I open it.
And then there were the two bats, one wooden and one metal, propped up in a corner.

"So, what do you want today?"
"You're the one who came here." Mmm, right. But you're the one who called me over.
Let's see, uh... "Right, right, you had something you wanted to ask, didn't you? So I came over for you to ask me." I spoke to my sister while sipping the well water I was used to drinking. My sister didn't answer, just took out her own drink from the fridge and put her mouth directly to it. Peeking past her back, I could see a block of vividly red meat stored inside the fridge. I wonder what kind it is, I mused, watching idly as I slurped my water. I felt something seep into the corner of my mouth, touched it with my finger, and found a small amount of blood had oozed out. Well, after being kicked that much, I guess I should be grateful to my sister if it's just one wound. Happy even. That's a lie, though.

"I do have something I want to ask."
My sister, having quenched her thirst, closed the fridge and sat back down on her chair. She spun it around to face me directly.
My sister's lips trembled.
"About Mom."
I almost performed an unintentional water trick out my nose. Keeping the cup to my mouth, I blew bubbles and fixed only my eyes straight on my sister. Her expression was completely blank.
"My mom... she died, right? Eight years ago."
"Yeah."
I nodded, enduring the sharp, aloof pain deep in my nose. Well, I guess if she's been shut in her room for eight years, she wouldn't get much information, even if we live in the same neighborhood.
"Anii-chan, did you watch Mom die?"
My sister's dangerous gaze pierced me. It seemed difficult to try and lie my way out of this.
Because that look in her eyes made me think she absolutely wouldn't be convinced unless her own view was affirmed.
"I watched. I couldn't save her either."
Back then, I was useless. A failure of a human being who couldn't even tell a proper lie. I couldn't do anything.

"So, what *were* you doing?"
"I was scared." Of Maa-chan. Of people dying. Of blood. Of blades. Of time. Of slipperiness.
Of living. That last one came later, though.
My sister's eyes took on a look as if filled with pity. For some reason, goosebumps prickled my skin prematurely.
"......... Anii-chan, you've always been like that. You never help people when it really counts."
She even sighed. What harsh words. But there was something about the way she said it that snagged my attention. As if she was talking like she'd felt the same way about me herself.
"Useless, and now a pervert on top of it."
My sister relaxed her shoulders and looked down on me with a gaze of contempt mixed with something like a joke. I forced down something indigestible in my gut and put on a friendly face.
"Pervert? That's hurtful. I was just worried about your cavities." A slim handheld game console came flying through the air. It hit my wounded right shoulder directly. "Gyaasu!" Internally, a cry like "gyaaaaaaasu," with an American flavor, echoed.
My sister, oblivious to my circumstances, released her throwing form and layered on more insults.
"And you have bad taste in women." "...... That, I can't just let slide."
"Why are you breathing heavily? Pervert." Probably because I'm fighting the intense pain in my shoulder!
"What exactly is wrong with Mayu?"
"The part where she's clearly got a few screws loose."
She pointed out the facts. What a piece of work. You should let Mayu scold you for saying that.
"Is that woman sick?"
"Not 'that woman.' She's your future sister-in-law." Though that's uncertain. Actually, it's impossible.
"Besides, Anii-chan and I aren't really siblings."
My sister snorted, denying it nonchalantly.
I couldn't shake the feeling she was saying something contradictory.
When I commented on that, starting refreshingly with "My dear sister!.........", an empty pencil holder came flying at me. I stylishly deflected it with the back of my left hand, only to incur unnecessary pain. What's more, she ordered, "Pick it up," and I had to go retrieve the pencil holder that had rolled to the corner of the room. Why does she just assume I'll obey? I wondered, yet I remained the faithful worker ant. While retrieving it, I took the opportunity to observe both bats that were in that direction... Hmm, signs of some use.
Then, once I'd retrieved it, the pervert was ordered to "Go home." At this unreasonable treatment and lack of reward, Mii-kun got angry. I vowed in my heart to become audacious.
And so, I decided to stand blocking my sister's way and bombard her with questions.
"Can I ask some questions too?"
"No." I ignored her.
"What have you been doing all this time?"
"Eating mikan oranges and stuff in my room." Hoooh, okay then. So she really has been cooped up at home the whole time.

"About ten days ago, I saw you near the shrine. Around that time, there was a murder near there, and your clothes had someone else's blood on them."
"Are you saying I did it?" She responded surprisingly dutifully.
"No. I was just wondering if you were going to cram school or something—"
"Liar," my sister judged accurately. To remove me from her sight, she spun her chair to the left. Naturally, I moved around too. I got punched in the solar plexus but didn't flinch. Though I did take a deep breath, seeking fresh air.
"So what really happened?"
"Who knows? What would *you* do if it were me?"
"Nothing much. Just that you should let my acquaintances go." "I don't know anything about that." "Like Nagase, or Koibi-sensei, or Jeronimo-san, or Kouta-kun, or Anzu-chan, or my uncle, or my aunt, or Itsuki, or Kaneko, or, uh, Fushimi too." "I told you, I don't know!"
A denial full of delinquent spirit, and a spinning kick utilizing the chair slammed into my ribs. Well, setting aside my acquaintances, if my sister doesn't go out, she probably doesn't have any friends herself.
"And one more question."
Clutching my side like someone out of shape after a morning run, I prefaced my question. My sister, her back still to me, just bent her neck backward, looking at the world upside down. There was no reply, only her bright red tongue sticking out over her lower lip to insult me.
"I'll leave after you answer this."
"Leave without asking."
"Then I'll ask without leaving."
She glared at me. Taking that as permission, I ignored her gaze and asked.
"Back then, when you went missing in the mountains. Was that on purpose?"
My sister didn't even blink or show any hesitation before giving a short affirmation: "Yeah." Is she twisted, or just honest?
"To run away from home?" "Yep."
"Did you hate home that much?"
I don't know what was contained in that slight pause, but my sister still drew her head back dramatically.
"......... I see." If that's the case, it can't be helped, I guess.
I didn't press further to dig up the reasons why.
I could feel the boundary line between my own indifference and interest, which felt a little fresh. But, setting home aside, she did seem to care somewhat about her own mother.
"Still, you were lucky. If you'd stayed home, you probably would have ended up living in the basement too."
And if my older brother hadn't killed himself and was still alive, that isolating, confined life would have been quite lively with a big family. Albeit with a BGM of shrieking pandemonium.
My sister just retracted her tongue, maintaining her non-reaction. Any more of this, and I'd just be playing the part of a young man who talks to himself a lot. Time to withdraw.
"Well, I'm leaving. Make sure you brush your teeth properly. And be careful not to come back to life."
I braced for impact, expecting something to be thrown, but nothing happened, and I ended up standing there awkwardly. It was anticlimactic. Though it should have been a welcome development.

I headed for the door. As I did, I heard the sound effect of an object moving from the direction of the desk. Maybe my sister was also planning to go down to Grandpa's for lunch.
I decided on my plan – maybe I'd cut Mayu's nails when I got back home – and hooked my hand onto the doorknob.
As if timing it perfectly, a voice called out.
"Anii-chan, look over here."
"Hm?" I turned around, blushing shyly. Th-that's a lie, though.

3
A kitchen knife.
Blade + Sister + Anii-chan = What I am seeing right now.
Five steps away from me, my sister firmly gripped a meat cleaver, the same type Mayu uses, in both hands.
I wish this were a lie too.
Holding it low, below her navel, it was the basic stance for stabbing a target.
"............ How should I interpret this?"
Surely she doesn't intend to eat me? Not bubbling away in a pot? Not whirring in a blender? Not sliced up crisply with a vegetable slicer?
With her as the opponent, I couldn't assign a zero percent chance to any of those. "My lord, be ever vigilant," the advice of an imaginary retainer echoed like a mishearing inside my skull.
My sister took a step closer. Her expression hadn't changed from before, which strangely made it feel less terrifying and less real.
"Is there room for discussion?"
"...... Yes," she affirmed, taking another step closer with gliding feet. Besides the knife, her movements seemed like they'd suit a lantern procession. How dreadful.
Seriously, stop with the knife. My stress points are racking up.
"You're remarkably calm," my sister said, moving only her lips among the materials making up her face.
"I've got experience." Fighting amnesiac murderers, living with a clingy former killer. Besides, you too, my dear sister, seem quite composed in your demeanor. Perhaps you're quite accustomed to killing people?
"For what reason are you going to kill me?"
What's the motive? I have a vague inkling, but it doesn't solidify.
Is it about Mom? Hatred for me? To eliminate a witness to murder?
My sister didn't look away. No blinking, not even a twitch of her hair. My sister didn't hesitate, and then,
"Honestly, I can't really tell the difference either." Hey! "So, I thought I'd test it out a little." She took another step, closing in.
My sister's knife rapidly closed the distance to my stomach. The hand that should have been on the doorknob had come off sometime without my noticing and was swinging like a pendulum in the air. If my sister got serious, escape would already be impossible.
The remaining options were resistance or acceptance.
Would I establish the tableau of a pseudo-dead man being killed by a dead girl?

2
...Hah. This advanced technique of laughing through my heart's nose. That's a lie, though.
"Hold on a sec." I thrust out my palm, halting the girl and the blade.

It goes without saying, a twisted person like me doesn't choose either option.
Because that is the way I've chosen to live.
"I absolutely hate getting my wrists cut!"
I declared forcefully, putting strength into my gut. Proving that my own uselessness was still alive and well.
My sister too went "Huh?", obviously caught off guard, and froze. Now, what should I blurt out next? Go for it, spinal cord, I'm betting on you.
"Besides, I'm tired of standing on the brink of life and death."
Not good, this is just turning into me talking about myself. This isn't a situation where I'm aiming to be a member of the student council.
My sister's frozen state is starting to thaw. I'm on the cliff's edge. That's exactly why I have to decide it here.
"And more than anything, I'd rather be kicked by you than stabbed!"
Along the way, I recalled something Biwashima had said to me.
I see, if an idiot pretends to be an idiot, it must be quite unpleasant, huh?
Setting that aside, regret came visiting a lap behind. Haven't I just told an incredible lie?
No, but, I can't say it's entirely a lie either. No, no, but, it's equivalent to the act of choosing, with great reluctance, which one you'd rather be stung by: a paper wasp or a hornet.
"I think that way is easier. For you, and for me. Killing someone is mentally exhausting, and being killed is a hassle too. Murder, unless you make it a part of your life or completely forget about it, is a source of exhaustion that will inevitably make you run out of breath somewhere down the line in the life you carry."
Blathering pretty words to gloss things over. This was my third choice. But somehow, I feel like I've misjudged the direction of this performance.
'Why must people not kill?' 'Do *you* have a reason to kill someone?' Ah, that reminded me of something from the past. I think it was my brother and Mom.
"Besides, I don't really hate the current you that much. And being killed by someone you don't hate... well, it doesn't feel good, does it."
That's a lie, though. Obviously, being killed by someone you dislike would feel worse.
Ignoring my adolescent state of mind, my sister was quite calm.
Her face looked transparent, as if the faint hostility she'd had from the start when gripping the weapon had become even more diluted.
I was unbearably anxious about what meaning that enlightened expression held.

1
"Anii-chan, you've changed a little." Just a little? How sad.
"Mmm. And you haven't changed at all, sister." The good parts, and the bad parts... Probably.
Oh? She strode right up to me, devoid of emotion. Looks like my persuasion ended in spectacular failure.
My sister came right up close, reaching my chest. Seen like this, her physique was, after all, decidedly petite.
And then, the knife swung down.
Carefully, so as not to touch me. It fell to the floor.
My sister put her hands on my shoulders, stood on tiptoe, and wiped my mouth with her tongue. The spot where the blood had oozed.

A rough, ticklish sensation. Saliva violated my skin, and a chill pierced me.
Goosebumps erupted all over, like in the stands when a pinch-hit, walk-off, bases-loaded grand slam comes flying in.
"Did you think I was actually going to stab you?"
My adolescent sister's twisted smile, devoid of kindness or healing. Specifically, though it was supposed to be a smile, the look in her eyes was exceptionally bad. Ah, maybe she was born with that. Nothing to do with adolescence.
"...... No. The female section chief's afternoon sexual harassment duties?"
For the time being, she kicked my ankle and said, "I don't understand the meaning of that interrogative statement."
"To put it plainly, you're quite the pervert yourself, sister."
I was kicked away. It was sheer luck it didn't lead to another chain of bleeding, licking, and kicking.
After that, I left my sister's place without touching deeply on the matter of the knife.
From my sister, who didn't see me off, there was neither a 'Don't come back' nor a 'Come again.'

---

**Chapter 3: Catalogue of Charges for a Certain Family**

Slowly, I stir the contents.
Sometimes it goes *squish*, and occasionally, there's something hard that goes *crunch*.
I mix it all completely.
Simultaneously, the thought 'How did it end up like this?' also swirls inside my heart.
A little sweat beads up.
It was a sign that the elation was starting to subside.
And what visits next is the moment when I suddenly become calm and remember various things.
Faint memories related to the thing whose original form I am now destroying.
But that doesn't make my heart waver.
If anything, my hands become even more diligent in their work.
A fresh, yet dry, feeling.
I lick off what splattered onto my fingertips and continue the work.

19
"Hello," someone greeted me. *Mogu mogu*.
"Misono-san, are you coming to the club today?" Inazawa spoke. *Mugu mugu*.
Mayu and I both ate in silence. Sipping vegetable juice and stuff.
Inazawa was still smiling despite that.
March 2nd, Friday. Three days after being thoroughly kicked by my sister.
We had ended our self-made winter vacation and resumed attending school. It was now lunchtime, and I was consuming a deli bread roll from the school store with Mayu. The item known as a bento box is something we're only blessed with on days Mayu manages to practice going to bed early and waking up early. In other words, it's a fictional item.
Wrapped in the classroom's clamor, ignoring the occasional glances that came our way (perhaps an effect of the dragonfly throwing incident?), Inazawa from another class appeared to visit us—or more accurately, to visit Mayu. Whenever I see him, he looks like a guy who might spurt colorful marbles from his nose. A living-eyed doll, an uncontrollable puppet, a rampaging scapegoat doll—quite different from me, who gets praised like that by a certain woman. Two of those are lies, though.
Inazawa stood in front of the seat next to mine, where Mayu was sitting. Incidentally, that seat had been used by either the fifth or sixth student whose desk was dismantled by Sugawara a few months ago. The flower vase that had been placed on the desk vanished one day without a trace. Maybe they stopped coming to school? I wondered, engaging in truly pointless thoughts while quietly observing Mayu's actions. Since I wasn't the one being spoken to, intervening seemed like too much trouble.

"Here. Half each."
"Yeah," I said, handing the karaage bread to Mayu and receiving the egg bread in return. Mayu didn't look up at Inazawa even once, concentrating on her meal. As for me, I was thinking half-asleep thoughts like maybe I should take a picture of Mayu devouring her bread like a pig, while catching Inazawa moving his mouth out of the corner of my eye, though I wasn't listening to what he was saying.
While this was going on, Inazawa leaned down, putting his arms on the desk to match Mayu's eye level. As a countermeasure, Mayu closed her eyelids and continued eating. I took on the duty of injecting juice during the intervals.
Man, this guy. Despite his refreshing face, his actions are like coal tar.
"I don't think being closed off is good. Shutting yourself in a shell, narrowing your world... you'll definitely end up losing out big time someday."
Mayu finished swallowing her last bite. Without showing any emotion, she took the straw I held to her mouth and slurped up the contents (*jurujuru*) until the paper pack crumpled. Should I take a picture of that...? etc., etc.

The meal was finished. I gathered the trash into a plastic bag, and the cleanup was done.
Now, for the remaining time, we had to appropriately 'flirt' without speaking or touching. It was a voluntary obligation, you see. Doesn't make sense even as I say it.
I'm not sure if Mayu concluded that no foreign objects should be allowed in that space, but...
Mayu, opening her eyes, finally opened her mouth for a process other than stuffing her cheeks with bread.
"You're in the way. Please disappear."
A sharp rejection, logical like a shogi player placing a pawn right before the opponent's king. Inazawa stopped his own time for just a moment, then accepted with a smile, "Okay, I will."
Standing up, as he was leaving, "Well, uh, if you feel like it, come down to the schoolyard." "I won't."
Inazawa wasn't discouraged by Mayu's refusal; rather, the wrinkles around his eyes increased as if he were pleased.
"See ya," said Inazawa, heading into the hallway. Without even glancing at his retreating back, Mayu muttered to herself, "Glad he didn't touch me." I said nothing, just rolled my neck and shoulders.
My eyes met Kaneko's, who was leaning his upper body on his desk, only his face raised.
His vulgar curiosity showed through, but he still had the appearance of a good-natured person.
Imitating someone, I snorted before facing forward.
'See ya,' huh? I realized belatedly that I'd built relationships where that phrase wasn't often used.
Treat every meeting as a once-in-a-lifetime encounter; you have potential for the tea ceremony club, Natsuki-san might say. I convinced myself with something like that.

Well, it became after school. After getting ready to leave, I headed to the restroom before waking Mayu up. Is there really any need to declare the purpose for such a destination? It's truly suspect. Obviously, it's to use the toilet.
Even though the month had updated to spring, the hallway temperature was located far below 'chilly.' The air had a cold touch that 'cool' couldn't compete with. Setting aside the summer air conditioning, where does the facility fee go in the winter? It makes one ponder and question school management. As expected of a school hallway. That's a lie, though.

The hallway, bustling with students temporarily freed from studies, was particularly marked by the figures of students heading to club activities. Come to think of it, I wonder if Fushimi is recruiting for the drama club's backstage crew. As I thought that, the image of the sound equipment that had spectacularly overturned also surfaced in my mind, so I decided to firmly forget about it.
I entered the restroom at the end of the hall, experienced various things, overcame them, and jauntily left the scene.
But, upon returning to the hallway, another trial to be overcome was added.
I encountered Inazawa, holding his bag in one hand and just starting down the stairs. "Oh!" he exclaimed, sounding oddly pleased to see me, and backpedaled up the stairs onto the landing like a rewinding tape.
Then, with a light "Yo," he raised a hand and closed the distance. Wondering if he'd spotted Mayu's living ghost on my shoulder or something, I maintained my non-reaction when he spoke to me casually, "You're the guy who's always with Misono-san, right?" Hmm, so he wants something with me.
"Um, do you remember my name and stuff?"
"Hm? Yeah." Your last name, at least. Though vaguely, without certainty.
Inazawa and I faced each other in front of the restroom. Well, it's not like we harbor any hostility towards each other. Probably.
"Are you going out with Misono-san?"
"We live under the same roof."
I cut down his question diagonally. Inazawa's eyes widened, then he gave a wry smile.
"Ahhh, this is a bit problematic."
Inazawa smiled wryly, scratching the back of his head and observing me. Don't get your hopes up for a 'That's a lie, though.'
"Umm," Even though he was a younger classmate, I hesitated to act like a senpai saying, 'Now listen here, you...' Guess I can just call him whatever. 'This home-wrecker classmate—' No, but I almost said it aloud.
"It's Inazawa, right? You should probably stop hovering around Mayu."
I decided to take this opportunity to give a warning for everyone's sake.
Mayu, Inazawa... huh? For saying 'everyone,' there are only two parties involved. Am I forgetting someone?
"You only vaguely remember my name, huh?" Inazawa joked lightly, then replied easily.
"No, but, I really want to get closer to Misono-san."
"Honestly, I like her." ' ' Don't tell me that.
'.' So don't confess to *me*.
There's no way I'd find a guy's bashfulness or blushing cheeks endearing. I wanted to leave this place quickly.
"See, I thought it'd be better to properly tell her boyfriend about this stuff."
Inazawa told me with a smile so refreshing it looked like he could cultivate mint in his mouth.
What the heck is that? Is this a bold declaration that 'I'm going to steal your girlfriend now'?
"I met Misono-san back in middle school, and it was truly love at first sight."
He started talking while gazing out the window. Maybe I should make something up too and head back to the classroom.
"Her consistently aloof attitude that never breaks. Her mature way of speaking, her profile... All of it were elements you couldn't hope to find even a shred of in other classmates."
Well, yeah, 'cause she's a year older.