---

---

**June 2nd: "Murderer + Kidnapping Victim x 2 ="**

"Um, uh... Nagase-san."
"Hmm? Hmm... Hmm, it's Ikeda-kun, isn't it~?"
"Yeah, that's me... Um, Nagase-san, there's something I want to talk about..."
"Talk? ... Ha! This mood! I-Is this a confession?!"
"N-No, no! Totally wrong, completely wrong!"
"Mmph, that was a *total* rejection... So, what is it then, hmm?"
"...Well, that older guy... putting that aside. Basically, I was hoping we could become friends."
"Hmm...? Okay~! Nice to meet you, Kouta-kun."
"Oh, thank you... Itsuki-san."
"Nyu-ha-ha, Itsuki is fine~!"

***

"'Kouta dear, sorry to always trouble you, *cough cough*.'"
"Uh, it's okay, don't worry about it."
She takes the chopsticks I bring to her mouth, biting onto them with a *pakuri* and chews, *munch munch*.
Then, she swallows so slowly it seems like she might choke, and Itsuki-san smiles.
That smile of hers, in turn, makes *my* throat feel tight.
"'In times like these, you're supposed to reply, «That's not something we say, remember?», you know~?'"
Even though Itsuki-san speaks with that lisp like a younger child, it feels like she thinks of *me* as the younger one.
"Is that so...? Hmm, is that, like, trending on TV?"
I can only manage conversations that even I find clumsy, so I tend to look down a little. I wish I could speak more quickly and precisely, like that older guy.
I thought about how I could become like that, but I realized it's impossible for me.
"'Hmm, they don't really do those, uhm, tear-jerker things much anymore, but oh well. Chirp chirp, tweet tweet, food please~!'"
Imitating a little bird, Itsuki-san opens and closes her mouth, *pakupaku*, waiting for the 'Here, open wide~'.
As I stared at her for a moment, Itsuki-san started to blush, so I hurriedly moved the chopsticks.
The date I wrote on the blackboard as the student on duty is June 2nd.
Today we have shortened classes, so after lunchtime, we clean up, and school's over. That's why everyone in class is chatting more livelily than during a usual lunch. Making plans to hang out at someone's house, or talking about going shopping somewhere even though it's raining.
These aren't conversations that happen around me.
But if I acted all bright and cheerful, people would probably find me creepy. This level is fine.
Two weeks ago, Itsuki-san broke her right arm, making her unable to use chopsticks, and somehow... I ended up being the one in charge of feeding her lunch. A few months ago, "that older guy" told me her name and asked me to be friendly with her, so I struck up a conversation with Itsuki-san when I ran into her during cleaning time, and since then, we've somehow gotten along.
And now that we're in fifth grade, we ended up in the same class, eating lunch facing each other.
It's fine for me, since Itsuki-san is about the only friend I have, but I wonder if it's okay for her.

"'Hey, Kouta-kun, do you not watch TV?'"
Itsuki-san asks in her usual leisurely tone while chewing on hijiki and carrots.
Honestly, she needs to eat a little faster, or we won't make it in time for cleaning.

But, I have to keep the conversation going... I wonder why.
"Yeah, not really." Because my parents are often fighting in the living room.
"'Hmm. Then, what do you do when you get home from school?'"
She leans forward slightly, peering into my face, which tends to look down. When we walk together in the hallway and stuff, she sometimes bends down like that and points out how long my bangs are.
Every time, it makes me want to look away a little. For some reason, it's hard to look Itsuki-san straight in the eye.
After using the little bit of milk left to clear my throat, I tackle the difficult question.
"I do my homework... and after that..." "Uh-huh, uh-huh." "I play with Anzu... my little sister."
There was no way I could tell her that I just stay still in my room, holding my breath, so my parents don't yell at me or hit me.
Even if Itsuki-san were to give a troubled smile, it's not like I could smile back.
"'Oh, Anzu-chan! A little sister, how nice~. Wanna trade her for my nee-chan for like, two days?'"
"Itsuki-san's older sister..."
"'Fufufu, she's a prodigy known as the cleanup hitter on the table tennis team, ya know!'"
Sorry to interrupt while you're bragging a little... but is that supposed to be a compliment?
"'And I told you, you can just call me Itsuki~!'"
"Yeah... Uh, I think I'll pass on both."
I'd gotten good at it before I knew it. Deflecting Itsuki-san's words with a vague smile.
From my perspective, Itsuki-san seems less like a classmate and more like she's the same age as Anzu. If I had to say, she's like a little sister.
Her fluffy hair that reaches her neck, the nose and eyes on her small face—they all look like they could just blow away in a strong wind. And somehow, she's kind of like a puppy. When she looks troubled, you immediately want to lend her a hand.
I think Itsuki-san is a good-natured kid, but surprisingly, she doesn't have many friends at school. Maybe it's because she seems to have lessons or something after school and doesn't hang out much. Or maybe she just doesn't care either way.
Of course, there's the fact that I'm feeding her like this, but even when classmates next to us or behind us, who finished eating long ago, tease or make fun of her, Itsuki-san just keeps smiling and pays them no mind.
In that aspect alone, it's like a side of Itsuki-san that isn't 'normal' appears... and it feels a little scary.
"'It must be nice for Anzu-chan too, having an older brother. If I were to have an older brother, Tooru would definitely be the best choice, I reckon!'"
The name that comes up frequently in Itsuki-san's stories, "Tooru." Putting together everything she's said, it seems like he's, first of all, a guy.
But then, apparently, that's actually her older sister's name, and they exchanged names, and there are two Toorus... or something? Even Itsuki-san didn't seem to really understand the explanation she was giving.
At first, I wondered if maybe, by coincidence, this guy could be *that* older guy, but I'm pretty sure that older girl called Maa-chan called him 'Mii-kun,' and the detective called him 'Mii-san,' so I think he's probably someone different.
The older guy never gave his name, right up to the end, so I still don't know what his real name is.

That's why I can't talk to Itsuki-san about that older guy. I figured I probably couldn't explain it well without a name. Which means, basically, it looks like I just approached Itsuki-san on my own initiative, kind of like I was hitting on her or something...
Um, anyway...
So, it comes across clearly that Itsuki-san likes this Tooru person. Since Tooru-san isn't here, I feel like I'm just a substitute. Not that I really mind, though.
Lately, I feel like Anzu's been treating me like that too.
"'It'd be great if you could become like Tooru in the future, Kouta-kun~! He's super popular with the girls~!'"
Itsuki-san laughs innocently, the kind of laugh that seems like it would fit the sound effect "nyuhi nyuhi."
I thought about joking back, "Would I be popular with you too, Itsuki-san?" but it didn't feel like me, so I swallowed the words and cleared my throat slightly.
Besides, if I could wish for anything, I'd want to be like that older guy.
But if I told him that, he'd probably say something like, 'If your eyes are that bad, it causes trouble not just for you but for the person doing the vision test, so let's get that fixed quick, okay?'"
"Ah, Itsuki-san. Lunch, we need to hurry a bit, or time will run out."
Cutting off the conversation and my own thoughts, I glance towards the clock above the blackboard. Itsuki-san replied, "Oh my, look at the time! Ho ho ho, I just get carried away talking, don't I~?" agreeing with me as if she hadn't really heard what I said.
Itsuki-san certainly isn't boring, but she's subtly tiring.
I stick a straw into Itsuki-san's milk carton and bring it to her lips. "'Mmm, permission granted. Approach,' Itsuki-san commands the straw.
Seeing her quietly sipping the milk reminds me of Anzu when she was three, and I have to somehow stop myself from grinning.
Come to think of it, I feel like she could probably drink the milk with her uninjured left hand... but oh well. It'd be weird to worry about that after more than a week.
I had finished my own lunch within the first five minutes or so.
Since I was little, I wanted to reduce the time I spent in the kitchen with my parents, so I developed a habit of eating quickly.
Eating like that is greedy, unsightly, and vulgar.
It's fine for me, but I'm a little sad that Anzu ended up like that too.
Being a normal kid would surely suit my little sister better.

***

Itsuki-san finished her lunch just as cleaning time began.
While hurriedly clearing away the dishes, like everyone else in class, I gather the desks with chairs placed on top towards the back of the classroom.
Now, everyone moves to the areas assigned to their groups to either clean them or slack off.
The cleaning locations rotate every two weeks, and the one everyone hates is, inevitably, the toilets.
Itsuki-san was specially assigned the job of taking out the classroom trash by the teacher, as it's something she can do with one hand. Since it's the easiest job, she gets envied or resented; there are various opinions.
But Itsuki-san ignores all of it.
What's more, her attitude about it seems quite practiced, which surprised me a little at first.

So today, instead of sweeping the floor trash with a broom as part of the classroom cleaning crew... I took the day off from that and accompanied Itsuki-san as her umbrella holder, walking side-by-side across the muddy, rain-soaked grounds.
Since I don't stand out or draw attention, conversely, even if I act selfishly, the others in my group don't criticize me.
Being plain sometimes turns out to be convenient.
I wonder how Anzu is doing in her third-grade classroom. She's a quiet kid, but maybe she's getting bullied after all? Even if she were, Anzu would definitely never tell me anything.
"'So, hey, Kouta-kun. Today, umm, I was wondering if you could come over to my place~?'"
Itsuki-san extended the after-school invitation while rustling the garbage bag, *gasagasa*.
For just a moment, my eyes lost focus, and I stepped right into a puddle on the grounds.
Water seeped into my shoe and sock, squishing *nyuru* between my toes.
"'Why? Ah, it's not that I don't want to, or anything like that,' I add softly, stammering."
"'Uhm, what was it again? It was written in a manga Nee-chan had... Ah, right, right! 'My parents aren't home today,' insert heart mark here, kinda thing~'"
"Yeah, I think you mentioned they both work... Uh, so, still, why?"
"'Hmmm,' Itsuki-san has had her finger pressed to her temple for a while now, unable to let go. I wondered if I'd asked such a difficult question, my face starting to show confusion, but then Itsuki-san looked up with a 'Hmm!' and a bright smile, washing away my concerns."
"'It'd just be until Nee-chan gets home from school, but... no good!?'"
She pleads with me, using a wheedling voice and looking up at me. My right foot almost flinches back, but if I moved, Itsuki-san's shoulder would get wet from the rain, so I gave up on that idea.
My feet feel heavy as they stomp through the mud. Especially my right foot, lately.
I take about two deep breaths and speak while still looking straight ahead.
"I won't know until I ask Anzu, but... is it okay if my little sister comes too?"
"'Yep, that's fine~!' Itsuki-san nods easily."
"'Actually, give Anzu-chan to me~!' 'No.'"
If it were before she was born, I think Anzu should have been Itsuki-san's family's child.
But since she's already been born, I want Anzu to be my little sister.
"'Run-ta-ka!' Now in high spirits, Itsuki-san swings the garbage bag even more wildly. Watching her, I wonder if she's really that happy, or if the bag is going to rip, thinking various things, but I remained silent."
Eventually, like she'd run out of fuel, Itsuki-san's humming performance stopped. Her eyes narrowed, looking displeased.
"'I hate this weather~.'"
Looking up at the dark clouds, partially obscured by the umbrella, Itsuki-san grumbles. With a neat motion, she kicks up the mud at her feet, scattering it onto the ground with heavy-sounding *pota-pota* drops.
The toes of Itsuki-san's shoes became smeared with reddish-brown mud.
"Do you hate the rain?"
"'Rainwater itself is fine, but I hate it because it makes it dark outside.'"
Just for that one comment, Itsuki-san's profile looked mature.
And yet, her voice trembled slightly as if she were scared, revealing a contradiction.

I decided to pretend I noticed neither and tilted the umbrella more towards Itsuki-san.

***

For about a minute, the teacher gave the usual warnings like, "It's raining, so be careful going home," and "Don't dawdle on the way," and then the end-of-day meeting was over.
Most of the classmates weren't listening to the teacher anyway and quickly dashed out of the classroom. Within five minutes, only two or three people were left.
As the student on duty, once I finished packing up, I opened the class logbook. I wrote the date with a mechanical pencil, then filled in the weather and today's schedule. Even I have to admit, my handwriting was a bit too small.
I hesitated, wondering if I should erase it and rewrite it, but just then, a distorted shadow fell over the logbook.
"'Kouta-kun, shall this humble servant offer some assistance?'"
Itsuki-san, her backpack slung over just her left shoulder, had come up beside my desk.
"Ah, it's okay. Your arm... it must be tough."
"'Ooh, a notice of being removed from the fighting force, is it?'"
"Eh? Ah, um..."
"'Well then~, I'll wait by the entrance~.'"
Getting worked up and then agreeing all by herself—Itsuki-san's smile is busy and convenient.
"...Yeah. I'll try to finish up quickly."
I put the eraser I was about to take out of my pencil case back and started writing again.
There are many lines for writing down what happened today, but with only half-day classes, there shouldn't be that much to write. Wondering if it was okay to write less than usual, I flipped through the pages and saw the previous person had summarized their day in about three lines. Trying to read it... it was hard to read. Actually, I couldn't decipher about half of it, so within ten seconds, I got the message that it had been a particularly uneventful day.

"'Oooh, Anzu-chan. S'up~?'"
Hearing a familiar voice and a familiar name, I look up.
At the front entrance of the classroom, Itsuki-san is bending down slightly to match Anzu's eye level and greeting her. Anzu grips the shoulder straps of her backpack and gives a tiny, tiny little nod.
When I asked Itsuki-san the other day why she changes the way she talks just for Anzu, she said, 'Nee-chan taught me it's the secret to getting along with anyone in life! She said this is how she got close to Tooru, y'know!' And there was Tooru again.
Anzu's gaze turns to me, tinged with anger for some reason. Looking around the classroom, the remaining people were gone, so I beckoned her in, saying, "It's okay to come in." Not that any classmates would care about Anzu even if they were here.
Anzu peers into the classroom from the entrance, checks with her own eyes that no one is there, and then enters. Anzu is shy around strangers, but more than that, she worries about what people think. She hates people seeing her hair, which is always left to grow long because our parents say haircuts are a waste of money and rarely take her.
...Because she's learned that if she does anything special, she'll stand out and get hit by Dad or Mom. That's why I was truly surprised when she took a liking to that older guy, and when she insisted on giving him chocolate. Anzu, who usually just looks down all the time, and only glares at people when she occasionally looks up—
"...Ah."
I notice Itsuki-san staring at me longingly, going "Hmm-mmm~." I hesitate for a moment, but when I give her a small beckoning gesture, her expression brightens instantly, like a replaced lightbulb, and she rushes over faster than Anzu. She overshoots with too much momentum, flies past my seat, kicks the desk of the person behind and to my left with a "Chowa!", and then stops.
"'Is it really okay for me to intrude on you siblings' private time~?'"
As if separate from her actions, Itsuki-san puts on a slightly apologetic expression.
Anzu, arriving late, has an openly displeased look on her face. She's met Itsuki-san several times, but Anzu still hasn't said anything, just looking down or averting her eyes.
"Um, hey, Anzu—" "The daily log. Why don't you finish it quickly?"
She points at the logbook on the desk with a curt attitude. "Ah, yeah, right," I say, picking up the mechanical pencil I'd left rolling on the logbook and scratching my right temple with my finger.
"'Hey, hey, Anzu-chan. Are you free after school today~?'"
While I'm feeling awkward, Itsuki-san brings up the main topic.
Anzu takes a step back from Itsuki-san, who is leaning forward and bringing her face close, and looks to me for an explanation. My stomach tightened.
"Um, today Itsuki-san asked if we wanted to come over to her place—"
"'Nuh-uh, *I* asked *you guys* to come over~!'"
*I wish she wouldn't interrupt...* The sides of my head are gradually getting cold, and my cheeks feel tight.
"Mm, so, I was wondering if Anzu would come along to Itsuki-san's house too..."
Partway through, Anzu clearly became more displeased, so my words trail off weakly. There's no way Anzu would go home alone, so if she says no, I'll have to apologize to Itsuki-san.
"'Why?' She directs the question, loaded with various meanings, at me, as expected."
"'Hmm, the same line. You really are siblings, y'know!'"
Even though it clearly seems ineffective, Itsuki-san still acts surprised, adding 'y'know!' to the end of her sentence. She puts her left hand under her chin and strikes a thinking pose with a vacant expression.
"Mom... I think she'll be home today, so..."
At my addition, the color drains slightly from Anzu's face. Like a raindrop falling on a pure white stone and leaving a stain.
Mom hits Anzu more often.
Dad hits me often. So, today...
"Hm? Are they fighting?"
"Something like that, maybe." I don't answer clearly, just give Itsuki-san a vague smile.
Anzu, probably unconsciously, tightly grips the 'latest bruise' through her clothes.
For a while after we came back from running away... or was it kidnapping? Nothing happened.
But once they got used again to the daily routine of having us—easy targets for hitting—in the same house, the old habits returned.
That's why, usually after school, Anzu doesn't go home alone; she waits for me.
...The rain started hitting the classroom windows, the sound growing a little fiercer.
Eventually, without looking at me or Itsuki-san, Anzu stares down at her feet and murmurs.

"If... the phone doesn't connect, then I guess we can go."
"...Okay." So, that means she'll go, right?
Anzu is a straightforward kid bent at a right angle, so once you get used to her, she's easy to understand.
Itsuki-san goes, "Phone?" tilting her head, not understanding what that word means in this context.
The phone. That's been the source of Anzu's bad mood for the past few months.
No matter how many times she calls the older guy's cell phone, it doesn't connect.
For some reason, she doesn't write the number down, so she sometimes almost forgets it, and that's why she calls.
But she can't reach the older guy. For the first three days, she called every day, getting angry at the older guy, calling him a "liar," and crying a little. I think her worry that maybe that older girl had done something to him was part of it too.
If she asked the police lady for help, she could meet him again.
But Anzu shakes her head, saying she doesn't want to meet the older guy.
"Because if I meet the older guy again, this time I'll want to stay with him forever." That's what she said.
Anzu doesn't want to cause trouble just for the older guy. Probably because she likes him the best. More than me. Not that I mind, though.
Because Anzu and I understand firsthand that family doesn't always come first.

***

I hold Itsuki-san's umbrella in my left hand and Anzu's umbrella in my right.
And so, the three of us walk side-by-side down the rainy school route.
It feels kind of strange. For some reason, I imagine a Catbus might be coming towards us...
"Aah, I see~."
The phone not connecting has become a part of daily life, but Anzu still gets down about it even though she's used to it. Itsuki-san starts talking to her again.
"Don't worry~, Anzu-chan. Big Sis Itsuki won't steal Kouta-kun away from you~!"
Anzu shoots Itsuki-san a sharp glare and starts to open her mouth. But in the end, she says nothing.
"Ayaya... I seem to be disliked."
Looking utterly perplexed, Itsuki-san squeezes her body in front of mine and meets my eyes.
I can't exactly agree calmly with "Yeah, seems so," so I have no choice but to stay silent too.
It's strange, though.
Somehow, I feel like I'm getting a taste of what that older guy feels like right now.

***

She turned on the entryway light. She turned on the light under the stairs. She turned on the living room light. She turned on the TV. She turned on the bathroom light. She turned on the second-floor light. She turned on the lights in each individual room. She turned on the radio. She turned on the kitchen light. She turned on the toilet light. She turned on the hallway light.
And finally, she turned on the air conditioner.
The first things my classmate, Itsuki Nagase-san, did upon returning home were numerous indeed.
"'Mistake~. That last one was unnecessary, ho ho.'"
Having run all over the house until she was dripping with sweat, Itsuki-san took a breath and looked sheepish about that last part.
"...Right." We sense something unknown about most aspects of Itsuki-san.
We haven't really experienced this kind of strangeness much before.
...Ah, but hating the dark... maybe that's the same as *that* older girl.
"But, um... it's hot, so maybe it's good."
"'Right~? Kouta-kun, being such a serious little goody-goody, you're so logical~.'"
Itsuki-san puts her backpack on a desk, dripping rainwater and sweat. Anzu hides behind my back, tracing "What's with her?" on my back shoulder with her finger. Right now, I want to ask someone else the same thing.

"'Now, now, I'll prepare your seats, so sit, sit~!'"
After taking off her socks, she runs around noisily, *dotabata*, and places the cushions from the sofa onto the carpet. She pats a cushion with her left hand, inviting us over. I put forward my right foot, which has been hurting a little since this morning. But Anzu doesn't approach.
My shirt, gripped by Anzu, gets pulled back, stopping my steps too.
My movement restricted, Itsuki-san notices and freezes mid-crouch.
An unpleasant pause pushes its way insistently, *guriguri*, into the room, trying to bury us.
"...Ah, hmm, maybe I'll go get some juice or something!"
Itsuki-san straightens up and marches briskly, *tekipaki*, towards the room's entrance.
Then, lightly ignoring Anzu, she turned back to me.
"'Umm, I'd like you to come with me~.'"
"'I'll wait here.'"
Anzu says this and plops down on the cushion Itsuki-san prepared.
Resting her chin on her raised knees, she glares at the TV. Her eyes dart back and forth restlessly, from the room's curtains to the figurine on the TV, to the view outside the window, to Itsuki-san's backpack.
But, with Itsuki-san leaving the room, Anzu seems like she can relax her shoulders a little.
Maybe I wasn't the only one who felt more relaxed here than in our own house.

"Ah, okay." I start to follow her, then my attention turns to Anzu's presence.
When I turn back, wondering what to do, Anzu had already moved away from me and was walking. [Translator's Note: This line is slightly confusing given Anzu just sat down. It might imply she walked to the cushion, or is metaphorical.]
She glances down at her own right arm, briefly explaining the reason.
"'Well then, esteemed guest, apologies for troubling you~.'"
Itsuki-san gives a little bow, *pekori*, in a joking manner.
"It's fine. Mm, this kind of thing is self-service, right?"
In response to the light voice I managed to produce, Itsuki-san smiled as she straightened from her bow.
It was so natural that, conversely, it seemed out of place.

"Hey, Kouta-kun." "Yeah?"
"Which do you like better, orange or apple juice?"
"......... Orange." Anzu likes apple.
"Mm, right. Okay, apple is for Anzu-chan, so what should I have~? Rather, whattaya even got in here, huh?!'"
Itsuki-san, threatening the refrigerator with a poorly executed tongue roll, is a little painful to watch.
Not because of what she's saying, but because it seems so deliberate.
She's probably aware of it, right? What she's doing.
Entering the kitchen from the daytime hallway, lit up bright as if welcoming the night, Itsuki-san has since been constantly talking faster than usual for her. Though her body is moving about twice as much.
Even now, the sound of Itsuki-san's footsteps kicking the kitchen floor doesn't cease.
I pretended to pick up some of the snacks piled on the shelf, maintaining some distance/time.

"Hey, Kouta-kun." "Yeah?"
"Your leg, it's injured again, isn't it~?"
Nearly knocking over the mountain of snacks, I turn around. The blood hasn't caught up with the movement of my head yet.
Itsuki-san keeps talking without looking at me, her face still stuck in the refrigerator.
It felt like the cold air was mixed into her voice.
"We were in the same class in third grade, weren't we~?"
"Y-Yeah." It feels like someone else, some other version of me in a different place, is speaking.