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21°
My vision warps.
"Welcome home."
"Haa..."
But somewhere unseen, someone is dying. And living.
Someone is alive in a place I don’t know. That unknowable something circulates, and someday, it reaches me.
Times like that happen, because, well, the Earth is spinning.
On the way to my junior high school, there was a board stuck in the ground that had prophesied the world’s end years ago. But that prophecy, written by who knows who, never came true, and we now depict ourselves in the suffocating chill of winter.
The year 2033. The world still keeps turning. No one knows the fate of this rotating sphere.
"...Well, not that it has anything to do with me, though."
Years and months are nothing more than measures used by people.
Just as many adults eventually lose the chance to use a ruler, there are yardsticks that are no longer needed.
If all you’re doing is living in the now, it’s a trivial matter.
I turned back to the familiar road, gaining nothing but a detour and wasted effort, and headed home. The home I was returning to was my great-aunt's house.
Saying I left my parents' home sounds nice, but I really just ran away. With my sister, I left that house. That place was Father and Mother's house; it wasn't my and my sister's house.
It took me a little while to realize that. If I had just left my sister to her own devices, she might never have cared. Or perhaps, that might have been fine too.
As I was about to enter the house, I heard dogs barking from around the back. My aunt must be taking care of the dogs. Thinking I should probably greet her, I pulled back the key and went around. Moving along the wall, I came out into a small yard used for drying laundry, where a human figure cast a long shadow. But it wasn't my great-aunt, nor my aunt. Under the cold sky, a purple yukata, out of season. Butterflies danced on its pattern, though it wasn't even spring. It was a familiar outfit and a familiar back. She was crouching, playing with the dogs. The horde of dogs my aunt kept were jumping and frolicking like carp that had been fed. They seemed to be quite fond of the woman in the yukata. She was handling them skillfully, but when three or four pounced on her at once, she let out a "Gyap!" apparently unable to fend them off completely. She leaned back and noticed me. Our eyes met, and her lips curved like a crescent moon.
Her long black hair hung down to the ground, like something out of a horror movie.
"Were you the bad one of the twins?"
"I'm the good one," I replied, miffed.
The woman stood up, completely unabashed. Perhaps because of her attire, even just straightening her knees had a unique allure.
"To meet in such an unusual place."
Fuhaha, she laughed, her eyes smiling while she hid her mouth with the sleeve of her yukata. Despite her theatrical gestures and appearance, it didn’t come across as sarcastic, but rather as if she fit a certain mold. And, if you only looked at her eyes, she was the spitting image of my father.
"Unusual or not, I live here, you know."
"Watakushi does not live here. Therefore, it is unusual."
"You are..."
Puppies were tumbling and playing around the woman's feet. What had made them take such a liking to her?
Her name didn't come to me immediately.
"Have you forgotten? I am Nekobushi Keiko."
Was that her name? It felt different from the one she'd given before. The reason I couldn't remember this person's name probably lay somewhere around there. It wasn't that I was stupid.
"Is there something you need?"
At the very least, she couldn't be here for my great-aunt or aunt. They had no connection whatsoever.

Then, if it was me she was after, that too was questionable.
"Yes, I came to see the dogs," she stated smoothly, probably lying.
Certainly, she didn't seem to have any particular reason to come here, so saying she came for the dogs was more believable, but this person resembled my father.
And being just like Father meant, in other words, she was a liar.
Father was terrible at lying but loved to do it; this person, however, seemed skilled.
Therefore, I shouldn't take most of what she said at face value.
Yet, though she should be around the same age as Father, she looked strangely young. Perhaps it was because her eccentric attire made it difficult to compare her to others. Values always seek comparison. When something as fickle as the heart is your footing, it's only natural to crave stability.
"You were late. Were you making a detour?"
"...Not really..." I mumbled.
No one ever asked about my plans. It was nice not to be bothered, but being asked, if only occasionally, might be refreshing, or so I thought. That's why I ended up answering honestly.
"I was looking for my sister."
"My, that sounds like quite the predicament."
"Did you find her?"
"No."
"I see."
Her unthinking response felt just like my sister's.

Nekobushi Keiko lowered her eyes. Did she know my circumstances?
She might have heard about it from Father. If so, he had a loose tongue.
"What will you do when you find her?"
"Misdeeds, you say?" she asked, her lips curving into a faint smile.
For an older sister, the answer to that is obvious.
"If she's doing something stupid, I have to warn her."
"Oh my, you're not going to help her?"
Neko-something-or-other's eyes widened in surprise. Even the dogs seemed to look up at me all at once.
How she managed to command them sparked a little interest in me.
"I wouldn't dream of taking part in any wrongdoing."
Hmph, hmph, Neko-something-or-other snorted and took something out from the sleeve of her yukata. Resting on her palm was a small pebble.
A white stone, as white as her fingertips. It was a piece of ornamental gravel.
She clenched her fist around it.
The stone disappeared from view.
And then.
"Now, the stone is certainly in my hand. However, you cannot see it," Neko-something-or-other said, a testing smile on her face.
Being the astute person I am, I instantly understood what she was alluding to.
"You're saying I should try to find this stone, aren't you."
And the fact that I could express it accurately suggested she understood the relationship between me and my sister.
"Could you even call that 'searching'?"
"My, such a quick judgment."
Neko-something-or-other was saying something, but I wasn't really listening. More than that, I was ashamed that someone else knew I was crazy. I tried to live my life hiding it, and it was unbearable to have it casually spread around by other people. What was Father thinking, telling this woman?
After tucking the pebble into her sleeve, Neko-something-or-other looked at me anew.
"I'll help you look for your sister."
She proposed it cheerfully, with a thin, transparently good-willed smile.
"No, thank you. I'll pass. I don't need it."
When I politely declined, Neko-something-or-other was so moved by my sincerity that she shed tears of gratitude. Just kidding.

Why did I have to let some unrelated person stick their nose into my business?
...Or was it their neck they were sticking in?
"Even Watakushi has a high 'sister-quotient,' you know. I can be helpful in finding mountain passes."
"No, I really don't get what you mean."
What on earth is a "sister-quotient"? Clay? Grown adults shouldn't just blurt out whatever pops into their heads.
As I stared back at her with heightened suspicion, her eyes crinkled as if she were sneering. She resembled Father, but at the same time, what was decisively different was that expression. That way of laughing, which concealed a denial of others at its core, was something Father didn't have.
Then again, Father rarely ever laughed in the first place.
"Perhaps I should be going soon."
"Oh, please do."
"I spent more time waiting than anything else."
Mhm-hm-hm, she chuckled with a hint of something hidden, a shadow in her laughter.
Did she want to talk about me and my sister, or did she really just come to see the dogs?
Either way, it was just a nuisance.
As Neko-something-or-other started to leave, even the dogs tried to follow her. Hey, hey, what about the gratitude you owe my aunt for raising you? But though I say gratitude, I wonder if the dogs even want to live here?
In a way, dogs come to a house through a form of kidnapping.
No one knows if they truly want to be there.
Neko-something-or-other turned around and commanded the dogs, "Sit," and they stopped dead in their tracks. It seemed she could use some kind of magic like that. Come to think of it, I felt like Father used to call this woman a "witch."
"Let's meet again. ...Ah, and also, take good care of your sister."
Leaving behind those words, as if to act like an elder just at the end, Neko-something-or-other departed. Once she reached the road, she opened a purple traditional umbrella and twirled it around. The sunlight filtering through the umbrella stuck to the ground with a peculiar dimness.
I had the illusion that the scent of washi paper reached me.
The woman in purple, from head to toe, disappeared into the distance.
An empty, hollow exchange.
All that filled the surroundings was the sunset.
Slowly, the sun's heat crept up from my fingertips. At first, it provided a warmth like soaking in a hot bath, but once it passed, it left behind a chill that made me shiver lightly. As if to mark the boundary between day and night. Beyond that sunset, the abandoned dogs remained, quietly staying put as if obeying her command.
Standing still, I started to feel like one of them, and with a "Hmph," I snorted and looked up.
Take care of my sister, she says.
"How am I supposed to do that?"
I could tell my eyes were narrowed as I ran my fingers through my hair.

"Churu chu-chu-churuun~"
"Doon-doraan~"
"You're noisy."
"Aye, aye."
When I was in a good mood after getting a snack, Nee-sama looked up from her book and glared at me.
"Aye, aye, sir~"
"...I'm worried. Are you managing okay when I'm not around?"
"Doin' great!"
When I answered cheerfully, Nee-sama let out a sigh and turned back to her book.
Our room at home was shared with Nee-sama. I didn't particularly mind. The desks and futons lined up next to Nee-sama's didn't lose their function. Until a little while ago, we slept in the same futon, but now that we've gotten bigger, it became too cramped, so we separated. The winter futon takes longer to warm up now.

"When will you ever get smart?"
"When d'ya think~?"
I didn't know, so I had no choice but to go to school every day and study.
I kicked my legs out from under my desk. Maybe I was being too loud, because Nee-sama closed her book. She got off the folded futon and came over here.
"Did you finish your homework?"
"Hmm?"
She peeked at my desk, checking my progress. "So-so," I said, showing her my notebook. Nee-sama took it and looked through it. Then she pointed out, "This is wrong."
"This too. You're good at addition and multiplication, but you often make mistakes in subtraction, don't you?"
"Cuz I'm forward-lookin'!"
"What good is something like that going to do you?" Nee-sama said dismissively as she handed back the notebook.
"It's not good to only look forward; it's best to have a wide field of vision, you know."
"Osu!"
"Got it?" she asked with her eyes, so I nodded deeply, "Perfectly!"
Nee-sama narrowed her eyes as if exasperated.
"All right, then. Hurry up and overcome your stupidity."
"...Putting aside your stupid parts, you're perfectly adequate as my little sister."
Even as she narrowed her eyes, as if looking at something utterly detestable, she said something so unfitting.
That kind of imbalance in Nee-sama is what's interesting.
Since it's interesting, I grinned widely.
"Didja praise me?"
"Idiot."

"Oh, you?"
Her voice was somewhat softer than before.
"Even someone who could kill a person would be fine."
The man in the hat showed reluctance at my request.
"It's not that I don't know anyone like that, but if I introduced them, they'd probably be overjoyed, so I'd better not."
"Ehh, stingy! You have to grant a girl's wish, don't you!"
A girl? The man in the hat looked around genuinely, as if searching. This guy.
Why does he look at me with such innocent eyes? And the emptiness in that voice.
"I hope so."
"Huh."
"Not you, but the one who gets it done would be pleased. I really don't like that."
In other words, there seemed to be various circumstances. I made a habit of convincing myself of things that didn't pique my interest that way.
"Various" is a convenient word.
"I'll fight."
We walked quite a distance from the gas station, onto another road. It was originally a narrow road where they were currently digging a drainage channel, laying culvert boxes, and widening the road. Heavy machinery was stopped, tilted on a dirt slope. Peeking in, it was a hole much deeper than my height, and if I carelessly jumped in and the ladder was removed, I likely wouldn't be able to climb out on my own.
Perhaps because the excavated soil reached the road, the smell of dirt was strong. It felt like it was drying out the inside of my nose.
The man in the hat, walking beside me and sticking close, glanced at me.
His features seemed gentle, but his eyes were surprisingly sharp.
"What are you going to do if you find a murderer?"
I held the bat in a ready stance. The sensation from that time I really whacked someone with all my might came flooding back.
"Why?"
"Because I can go all out on evil without holding back."
I was raised very well, so I could never intentionally hurt a good person.
Even if I were given permission to go all out, I'd probably still hold back.

But if it's a bad guy, it's okay to beat them up, right? I can use my full strength. All my power will be there.
Isn't that wonderful? Just imagining it made me swoon.
"So, yeah, that's about it!"
When I explained it forcefully, the man in the hat recoiled slightly.
"You're a real logic-chopping [censored word], aren't you?"
Since it was censored, it didn't reach my ears either. I sensed a certain kindness in that.
Though I don't understand what it means.
"Even so, I'm the type to value the process. Just like life."
"Hmm... It seems the dangerous person you're looking for is right in front of me."
"What a coincidence! I feel like I'm right near one too!"
Wahahaha, we both laughed, just with our voices. We'd never even met until this very moment, but somehow, I understood.
His dangerousness was in a completely different direction from mine, so we were unlikely to become good friends, but this man also had a precarious side to him. It was just that he had either tamed it, or on the surface, he was the epitome of calmness.
Holding my metal bat, I bravely advanced, shouting "Yah! Yah!" This was an act permissible only in the deserted early morning.
"Bad guys don't really seem like early risers, so maybe I should look for them at night, huh?"
"Indeed," the man in the hat agreed, pinching his chin.
"But what's there after you defeat those bad guys, I wonder?"
"Who knows? Maybe you just get experience points and gold, and that's it."
The more experience you gain, the richer your life becomes, and if you have lots of money, you'll be very happy.
I could only think of positive things.
As I sang "Rururi-banpii~," the man in the hat sighed, contrary to the cheerful song.
"By the way, why are you carrying a bat?"
"Because I'm a delicate maiden, for self-defense."
A long, long time ago, or maybe not that long. Oh well. There was a time when disappearances kept happening, and I was targeted too. Since then, I've been carrying a bat for self-defense, and that habit has continued to this day.
"Yes?"
"Well, this is a problem. It's more serious than I heard."
The man in the hat let his eyes wander a bit, as if choosing his words.
"The person who, ah, asked me for a small favor, seems to be worried that you might be sticking your nose into some incident, or causing one, you see."
My fingertips tensed. Like vines rapidly growing and entangling, my grip tightened on the bat.
I felt the heat of my smoothly circulating blood begin to boil in many parts of my body. At the same time, it was as if flames were erupting.
Honestly.
"From the looks of it, that doesn't seem to be entirely off the mark."
The man in the hat stared at my hands and made that judgment.
He never asks for anything decent.
"This is just like Father."
The man in front of me is an obstacle.
"If that's going to get in the way, the answer is simple."
"...What are you going to do, I wonder?"
The man in the hat held his duralumin case up high and took a step back.
I aimed the bat, strongly fixing my gaze on what lay beyond its dull silver surface.
I question the common sense I believe myself to possess.
Is the person in front of me a bad guy?
No, he's not.
In that case.
"I'll do this!"
Whee! Conscious of making it look light and cool, I put on my best show and leaped over the machinery. I jumped.
No, anyone could see, I fell.
I plunged into the construction pit at the side. I hadn't even properly grasped its height, nor did I know what lay beneath the excavated earth. My body sank as if seeking the bottom of an opaque sea. Into the air, into gravity.
My accelerating vision was buried in dark brown, like sliding down a mountainside.

And I hit my butt before my feet. Thwack! Hard, on a pointed part of the slope.
"Ow, ow-ow-ow-ow!"
I landed at the bottom in a heap and rubbed my backside. There was an odd sensation, as if my flesh had been pushed upwards. But it didn't seem like I'd cracked a bone or suffered any serious injury. For such a rash action, the outcome wasn't bad.
"Aye, aye."
The burnt-like smell of the earth, which had reached all the way to the top, intensified. If I didn't hold my breath, I felt like I might cough.
Light still struggled to reach here, giving it the atmosphere of having wandered into the bottom of a ravine.
It wasn't bad.
If I went straight, it would lead to the unfinished drainage channel.
The man in the hat, with a fragment of the rising sun at his back, peered down at me.
I stretched the bat out straight and puffed out my chest, as if to say, "How about that!"
"Now, do you have the guts to follow me?!"
"Nah, that's too much trouble. Honestly, are your legs okay?"
"Perfectly fine!" I chirped, swinging my legs alternately. The man in the hat chuckled wryly, "Is that so?" and moved his mouth minutely.
*What a crazy kid.* I could see his lips forming the words.
*I wonder?* I tilted my head cheerfully. I think of myself as a perfectly normal person. It's just that I value raw emotions more than other people do. That part might be inherited from my mother.
Mother is, well, she's a very pure person.
So pure she can't even distinguish between good and evil.
I started running. Over the unstable dirt footing, along with its dry scent.
With every step forward, the pain in my bruised butt felt like it was being gouged out. As if to escape it, my legs accelerated even more.
As I ran, I laid bare my desires.
"Aah, I wanna hurry up and beat up a bad guy~!"
Tangle with them, get hit back, get covered in blood.
And then, with Nee-sama.

At home, my great-aunt, mother, myself, and my sister live. Come to think of it, it's all women.
As twilight deepened, I showed my face in the kitchen. In this house, you have to voluntarily keep to mealtimes. After all, no one calls out, "Dinner's ready!" If you don't notice, dinner will start, and then be finished, just like that. It probably means we're not living as a family. How very correct. In the kitchen, my aunt was already seated. She glanced at me as I entered, her sour look unchanged. Her ink-black hair, bushy and unruly, seemed to squirm annoyingly on her face. I hear my aunt had some pretty radical days in her past, and seeing her stern face, I can believe it.
She lacked amiability in a different way from my father, her brother.
My aunt just sat there like that, but my great-aunt was preparing dinner. My great-aunt is getting on in years, but she moves about briskly and nimbly. Should I say she's clear-headed?
My image of elderly people was stagnation itself.
Though we were blood relatives, my great-aunt simply said she'd "gotten used to" having so many freeloaders living with her.
Come to think of it, my great-aunt isn't the type to feign affection either. Our family is full of people like that.
The only one who laughs much is my sister. My sister laughs even when she's not happy.

At the dinner table we surrounded, I could see four pairs of chopsticks. Great-aunt, Aunt, me. ...And then,
My sister is there.
But when I try to consciously focus on what I see in the corner of my eye, it's as if my vision is blocked, covered by a wall. No matter how much I try to push or pull, I can't do anything about what's happening inside my eyes.
Frustrated, I have no choice but to continue eating a meal I can only half taste.
I remember the pebble held in a hand.
How am I supposed to get it out?
It's simple. I just need to recognize what's covering it.
If I can do that, I can even tear it away.
Munch, munch, munch, Aunt's pace of eating is as vigorous as ever.
'I'm the kind of person who can live without working,' Aunt says with a twisted mouth, showing no hesitation about living.
After dinner, I got slightly lightheaded in the bath, returned to my room, and zoned out.
I sat on the futon folded against the wall, finding solace in a moment of futility.
The chilled room felt pleasant now.
In the end, today is ending without anything happening.
Another incomplete day piles up.
"Nee-sama, don't rush. In life, the process is what's important."
I thought I heard my sister's voice say something like that.
Was it an auditory hallucination, a relapse of the past, or was she really here right now?
Either way, I vehemently oppose such a stupid opinion.
"In life, results are everything. The process is just material for excuses."
Results are the answer. No one gives points for a blank space.
Who would praise a lost child?
"Hmph."
"Idiot."
"Nee-sama, you're such a man."
Being told something so obvious wasn't supposed to make me happy.
I hugged my raised knees.
The reason I can't see my sister is because I'm not normal, and that's all there is to it. I've accepted that, and I believe it's the correct perception. There must be some kind of problem with me.
Like with Mother and Father.
My parents live their lives having come to terms with that world. Of course, I hate that.
An older sister who can't perceive her younger sister is unthinkable.
I couldn't stand to go on living incomplete.
This, and that, it's all my sister's fault.
It's because my sister exists.
Out of spite, I swung my arm. I thrashed it sideways, trying to hit my sister who might be beside me. I swung it around vigorously, and on the third rotation, I slammed the side of my right hand against the wall behind me. It scraped, leaving a strong burning sensation on the skin of my little finger.
"Owww," I knew I was grimacing as I pressed the injury.
Who was that complaint directed at? My foolish sister, or myself, who was supposed to be wise?
The curses swirled into a small vortex and disappeared towards the clear ceiling.
I pressed the side of my right hand and buried my face in my knees.
Damn it, my pinky hurts.
What is it that I've lost sight of?
Is it something I can afford to forget, or is it something I absolutely must remember?
Enveloped in a fog of thought, not knowing right from left, only my destination is fixed. I have to find my sister.
To be a normal older sister, that was indispensable.

Chapter 2: "Ever"
Wanting to love, and wanting to die – which one leads to more happiness if you have more of it?
Probably, she's the one with more "want to love." I'm the one with more "want to die."

Comparing us, she seems far happier.
In other words, the one who wants to kill wins. Because the killer lives. But the one who dies, dies.
Unhappiness is something that living people find value in.
So, what are the values of the dead?
I imagine myself dead. I've been on the verge of death so many times, so I just need to stretch my foot a little further beyond that.
What I'd wish for if I died.
For the people around me, to think about me.
About what I did with them.
I want them to look back and think, even if it's just one thing, "that wasn't so bad."
That's what I wish for.
Increasing those kinds of things...
I realize now, belatedly, that this might be what it means to live.
I think about such things.
I feel like I want to hear someone's words.
"What do you think?" I try asking for her opinion. She was asleep.

"What is it?"
"Huh?"
I sometimes remember watching a program about the colors of a rainbow.
It was a children's science program about why the color of light changes. I was watching it in the room with my sister. It wasn't just the content, but I think it left an impression because my sister was next to me, hooting and hollering.
"Hoo-hoo, hoo-hoo. Hoo-hoo."
My sister would cock her head, mimicking the bird calls we heard in the morning.
This was before she started elementary school. Back then, I could still see my sister.
That sister would turn around and stare intently at me. Her wide, clear eyes seemed to capture and reflect me. There was something about it that reminded me of the expression Mother had when she and Father were alone, looking at him.
Maybe I feel it more now because we're both in pajamas.
"Nee-sama, what color are you?"
"Are you red? Blue? Yellow?"
I can't keep up with her train of thought. Since I didn't know what she was asking, I answered vaguely.
"You can tell by looking, can't you?"
"I see~"
And then.
"Nee-sama is so smart!" she exclaimed, raising both hands as if scattering confetti. "That's fine if you're convinced," I thought, about to return to my reading, when my sister crawled over from in front of the TV on all fours. Then, she started observing me intently from up close. I immediately regretted saying she could tell by looking.
Even when I tried to read my book, my sister's gaze clung to me like a mosquito, making it impossible to settle down. But if I reacted to her, I felt like I would somehow lose, so I stubbornly maintained the pretense of reading.
The steam and scent of my sister, fresh from her bath, wafted constantly onto my face.
"Nee-sama, you're bright red!" my sister announced cheerfully.
"Oh, am I really?"
"Aye, aye."
I'm not.
My sister seemed convinced and returned to her spot in front of the TV. The problem was finally solved.
I closed my book and went to sit next to my sister.
"Why?"
"Aye?"
She gave me a blank look, as if to say, "What about?" She's a slow-witted sister.
"Why red?"
"Oh, that! Your brow is all furrowed and you're bright red!"
"Is life really that tough, huh?"
"Yes, just now it is."
"Goge."
"Hooo."
I pinched my sister's cheek vertically and gave her a lesson. My sister's cheek turned red too.
The same color, and even if not spitting images, our faces were still quite similar.
My sister and I might be a single ray of light with different wavelengths.