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My clothes, my body’s freedom, my sensations, were stripped away.
My dignity and my pride as an older sister were easily crushed.
Once the confinement began, I quickly gave up resisting. I fawned and flattered; my spirit wore down, my sense of self became utterly clouded. Even now, looking back objectively, I can't accurately grasp my state of mind at the time.
The dull, blue sea that visited me in the darkness was the exact image I felt back then.
Swallowed by the waves, my body rocked. Before I knew it, the clouding of my consciousness became normal.
In contrast to me, my younger sister often screamed, roared, and never yielded. Her heart must be far more resilient than a normal person's. She flexibly accepted all the wounds, all the pain, and continued to fight.
Maybe my sister and I were switched at birth.
I, who resemble Father in appearance, but am closer to Mother on the inside.
My sister, whose smiling face is the spitting image of Mother, but whose inner fortitude she inherited from Father.
My sister, at every opportunity, told the kidnapper.
"If you lay a hand on Nee-sama again, I'll kill you."
The kidnapper seemed to feel great joy in hearing that.
After that, I was always tormented in front of my sister.

I accepted it, as if I welcomed it.
I thought I was suffering more because I was the older sister. I believed I was superior to my younger sister. That I was more capable, able to accept and endure more. That's what an older sister was, and that's who I was. No matter how I thought about it, it was the opposite, but I couldn't go on unless I believed it.
That small shred of self-respect collapsed with a single remark from the kidnapper.
Just trying to remember makes my vision flood with bloodred.
"The younger sister... feels better, eh?"
In 2026, my world collapsed.
The first to come to our rescue wasn't the police, but a man calling himself a detective. I had lost my sense of self, and my sister had been handled roughly and was unconscious at the time, so it's vague, but I vaguely remembered a green hat. The kidnapper had apparently abandoned us and fled.
Rescued, what remained was a warped mind and a distorted body. A tomorrow with a crushed tip.
So much time and potential had quietly drawn their last breath.
My younger sister recovered quickly. After restoring her emaciated body during hospitalization, she was discharged almost immediately. Even the psychiatrist, introduced by the doctor Father relied on, was surprised by my sister's carefree demeanor. My sister laughed often, ate well, and jumped around. Moreover, she had a firm grasp of the incident.
Because my sister was normal, she was peculiar.
My sister, brought by Father, frequently visited me. Without caring at all whether I reacted or not, she'd talk for a while, laugh, and then draw pictures of fish. The fish were nondescript, ones you could argue were either tuna or sardines, but she herself seemed to intend to draw Ayu.
She came to show me many times, saying she'd practiced drawing them in various places and wanted me to see her progress.

Perhaps my sister wanted me to scold her for the foolish act of practicing drawing all over town. But I couldn't react to my sister's voice or her fish drawings.
When it was time, my sister would be taken home by Father.
That Father, when he came alone, would take my hand and silently hang his head.
He would stay still for a long, long time.

Even while I had lost myself, my sister was preparing for her next step. My sister talked a lot about anything and everything, but she told one lie. She insisted that she didn't remember the kidnapper's face or appearance. She probably kept saying she didn't know because if she poorly described him, contradictions might arise.
The reason for that was because it would be problematic if someone else caught the kidnapper.
We were saved, but the kidnapper hasn't been caught.
My sister found a brilliantly shining hope for living in that.
"Because I will kill the kidnapper."
My sister was a little mad to begin with. And my sister doesn't let that madness diminish.
She lived according to that surging desire.
I recall what Yuna-san said before—though "before" means much later than this dream. That I am a person with no gaps, rigid. That's probably true. I'm constructed that way, and I can remake myself. Discarding, discarding what seems superfluous, with simple honesty.
In 2027, I stitched up the world's fraying edges on my own and revived. I, who had been unresponsive as if I'd lost my ego, suddenly came alive, resurrected as if I'd returned to before the incident. Completely forgetting about the incident. Like deliberately leaving the stuffing of a torn plush toy exposed, I discarded inconvenient memories.
Though, it seems I couldn't completely discard everything, as this much remains.
When I mended the frays, a lot of what was inside came out. Necessary things, unnecessary things. Did I distinguish between them? Perhaps among them was affection for my parents and sister. To maintain myself as an older sister, I excluded my younger sister from my world.
My sister hadn't lost her memory of that incident. If I talked to her, interacted with her, I would remember again. I wouldn't be able to remain an older sister.
From that fear and resistance, I became unable to see my sister. Unable to hear her voice.
No, not just my sister. Things connected to the past are gradually, indiscriminately disappearing. I merely find it strange, never pursuing the reason, and pretend to live indifferently. That is who I am.
I take my hand from the window frame. Nothing can be seen beyond the cloudy glass.
My consciousness was trying to surface from the depths.
On the surface of my heart, the storm still rages. I miss the tranquility of the depths. When I close my eyes, the pure white scenery inverts, as if a curtain of night has fallen. I could tell that tears were welling up and overflowing beyond the darkness.

I cried often. My younger sister, as if to balance it out, doesn't cry.
My sister, who never shed tears except when yawning, would she have cried seeing me like this?
To be the self I envision.
Me, who denied my sister to remain an older sister.
Something like that happened.
If I could change the past, at what opportunity would I kill that man?
There are no other choices. Then, or now... I count my grudges and hardships on my fingers.
"No, that's not it, not it..."
I shake my head and cast aside such useless imaginings.
What's important is, living this unchangeable reality, what do I wish for? The answer hasn't changed since that day. I will see to it that this, at least, is settled.

I visited a shrine at night for the first time. Stopping on the central stone paving and looking up, I had the illusion of my feet sinking deep into the bottom of the night. I felt dizzy.
I'd scouted it out during the day, so I was surprised how much it changed just with the difference in light. The desolate shrine, with even its trees looking thin and forlorn, became a somewhat grandiose scene at night as the darkness merged with the branches and leaves. Swayed violently by the wind, the night writhed.
Wondering where to wait for him, I leaned my back against a large tree. He wouldn't necessarily approach from the front. It'd be better to cover my back. Besides, the area where the trees grow isn't paved, so there's grass. I'd be able to hear him approach by the sound. I'd once taken measures against footsteps by positioning myself in a water-filled rice paddy. That time, stones were thrown at me from outside the paddy, my position was breached, and I was almost killed.
He probably won't run. Even if he did, it would be over if I went to the police. Even if he knew I wouldn't do that, he likely couldn't shake off his fear. In that case, instead of running, he'd come to dispose of me.
"... " I was about to remember the high school girl, but I shook my head and pushed the thought away.
Since I've decided to kill him, I won't think about unnecessary things.
Emptying my mind, I waited, exhaling my murderous intent.
Until footsteps approached from the front of the shrine.
...Eventually, he came. Cloaked in night, burdened by time. Taking the bait of the letter, brazenly.

The unforgettable past catches up to me.
"Well, hello... it's been a while."
His voice, too, was heavily tinged with night. Clenching my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms, I looked up.
Finally, I see that man, face to face.
"You've changed so much, I hardly recognize you."
"Sharp observation."
The rushing of my blood is so intense it brings on dizziness.
The man's stench, carried by the wind, made my stomach feel like it was rotting.
My first impression was that he'd faded. Though he hadn't been caught, he was a criminal, and living peacefully must have been difficult. His eyes and skin were rough. Until now, I'd only seen him from a distance, and my eyes had been blank with rage, so I hadn't seen him properly.
Back then he was a middle-aged man, but now he's well into his older-man years.
If he'd looked like this, I surely wouldn't have been deceived.
His tone, as if praising a relative's growth, made me feel like blood vessels were popping in my head.
"You used to come at me with a recorder back then, but now you're carrying something dangerous, aren't you?"
I ignore the man, who's putting on airs as he reminisces.
"You understand why I don't contact the police, right?"
"I pretty much get it. You plan to kill me with your own hands, don't you?"
I ready the metal bat in a seigan stance. The man holds nothing.
"That time you pummeled me is quite memorable. I thought my eye was going to be crushed back then."
The man gently presses the area around his right eye. His complexion is too dark to make out clearly. Only his white teeth were visible.
"If you lay a hand on Nee-sama, I'll kill you. Time to make good on my word."
He mockingly repeats my declaration. My feet naturally took a step forward.
"Back then, why did you attack Nee-sama after all that time?"
"I heard a rumor and wanted to test if she couldn't see me either. I could easily punch her, and it seemed she couldn't see me. But I was surprised because I didn't notice you hiding either. I fled in a panic; that was a rout, I guess. I reflected on it and decided not to lay a hand on the older sister anymore."
He recounts it like a funny story. That smile hasn't changed from before.
A blood vessel in my head snapped just right.
"It took me this long to find you."
I have no intention of talking to this guy more than necessary. I mustn't.

I'll kill him.
Strengthening my resolve, hardening it. Just, beat him to death.
"My, you've really grown."
Even as the bat and I close in, the man doesn't flinch at all.
"With you now, I thought maybe I could kill you without holding back."
It seemed I'd long since failed to meet the criminal's expectations. Whoopee.
I'll kill him twice, once for Nee-sama too.
"Can I ask one last thing...? Why a shrine as the meeting place?" *It's a classic trope, innit.* Without saying it aloud, I swung the metal bat up. I gripped it, intending to cave in his skull and snap his neck.
Neither of us has any allies. No one to protect us, no one to be sacrificed in between.
Our lives, exposed and on the verge of bursting, were all we had, each our own. The man readied a hidden knife in front of him. I saw it, but I won't stop my charge. I don't care if I die, as long as I can kill him. As long as I don't get that order wrong, that's fine. Pouring all my journey up to now into it, I swung the bat down.
The man followed its trajectory with his eyes and blocked the bat with his left arm. He endured it by sacrificing the part just below his wrist. Though the blow certainly reached bone, it naturally wasn't a fatal wound. The man, his left face twitching, grabbed the bat with that hand. It's grabbed, controlled. Giving up on shaking it free, I let go of the bat and swung my remaining arm. It made contact with the man's thrusting knife, and the back of my hand was pierced. Blood and flesh were pushed out, showering my body. My throat and collarbone tensed, and goosebumps ran all over me.
Still, it was as planned. With this, he can't stab me immediately. I tried to kick up at the man's stomach, but before I could, his elbow struck my throat. My breathing was cut off, and the air that was about to escape flowed back, making my lungs feel like they were inflating. While my eyes were rolling back from suffocation, the man twisted the knife up and down.
A scream escaped me, like air rushing out of my ears.
A foreign object raged inside my flesh. The sensation of the cold blade thrashing around made my knees want to buckle. Is it a small mercy that the pain is passing its limit and becoming vague? A slight leeway for action opens up. Gritting my teeth, I slammed my forehead into the man's nose, which was close by. I felt my front teeth hit his glabella, and his skin tear. I heard the impact sound, somewhat above my head, as if it were happening to someone else, and we both staggered back, creating distance. As he retreated, the man firmly pulled out the knife.

The man, the lower half of his face bloodied, recovered faster. He regained his footing, one step, two steps, and approached. I have no weapon at hand. My vision swam dizzily with anxiety – could I snatch the knife and stab him to death? Even a mutual kill would be fine – just then.
Something fell onto the man's head. There was an unexpectedly sharp, dull thud. The man's eyes darted violently. He reflexively tried to check above him, looking up.
That was a mistake.
What was falling didn't end there.
What rained down from the tree next looked like sand in the darkness. But it wasn't soft and gentle like sand. Because of it falling on his face, the man let out an indescribable scream and writhed.
Some of it rained down on me too, and the skin it touched burned as if on fire. But, now's my chance.
After a glance at the discarded bat, I thought, *this is it,* and kicked off the ground. Without prioritizing picking up the bat, I lunged at the man from his knees down. The man, tears in his eyes, looked down at me and threw the knife. It struck my head diagonally, creating a cut as it flew off behind me. The man fell from his hips to the ground, drooling and letting out a raw groan.
Swinging my gushing hand, I noticed the bottle that had hit the man's head rolling nearby. I instantly grabbed it and smashed it into his face. The empty bottle caved in, crushing the man's nose, and shattered easily when I put more force into it, as if pushing from my shoulder. Shards pierced my fingers from tip to base. My flesh tore, and it hurt so much I felt like I'd lose it if I even lightly shook my hand.
Still, I grip it. I clench the shards.
Tears streaming, I bring my fist down. Each time, the bottle shards gouge the man's face and my own fingers. And I was screaming as I punched. Each time my fist made a dry sound connecting with the man's face, I heard an animalistic roar. High-pitched, like a bird. As if pecking, our flesh burst and scattered.
Each time, I felt something that had kept me alive until now dying.
Eventually, the bizarre cries also stopped, as if exhausted.
Seeing the man fall silent, his face swollen like frostbite, I shed large tears. My stomach warmed gently, and I threw up. Vomiting something mixed with blood, I cried even more.
I had accomplished something.
But I didn't feel like I'd climbed to a high place, nor like I'd obtained anything.

After calming down, I pulled out the bottle shards stuck in my fingers and saw what had fallen. It was chili powder.
Next, a figure flew down. What jumped from the tree wasn't a tengu, but the man in the green hat.
"Good evening."
Greeting me, he skillfully tied up the man's hands and feet with a rope he had coiled around his shoulder. He seemed very experienced.
What an amazing weirdo. Watching him, I pick up the bat.
Blood flows from the graze wound from the knife, covering my left eye. I can't quite wipe it all away.
"So you were Mr. Chili Pepper instead of Old Man Hanasaka, huh?"
"Ahem." For some reason, he choked at the "Hanasaka" part.
"Did I interrupt? It's just, I couldn't pretend not to see, you know."
Still on one knee, he waits for my reaction.
I didn't think he'd follow me all the way here.
The process will turn out to be a wretched one.
But unable to hide it, I felt my shoulders heaving and shook my head.
"No... you helped me."
If things had continued, I would have been killed, and I wouldn't have been able to kill him.
This way, I won't get the order wrong.
For now, I'll follow Nee-sama's conviction.
"Oh, nothing, I just thought this might be part of a request, you see."
"As expected! Detectives sure have a wide range of work."
When I praised him, he looked surprised rather than pleased. His eyes and mouth twisted into a "?" shape.
"Did you hear about it from your father?"
"Nah, I just thought your hat and outfit looked the part."
I didn't think he'd be such an obvious detective.
The detective stared blankly for a beat, then turned aside and let out a dry laugh, "Haha."
Putting that aside.
I approach the bound man.
"That's enough."
"I told you I'd kill you if you laid a hand on Nee-sama again, didn't I!"
A declaration from long ago. It's finally time, but I'll make good on my word. Whether from anger or resentment, sparks danced in my eyes. It felt like blood was pooling in my heart; moving forward, I felt like I'd get drunk on its beating. Nauseous, my body still didn't stop.
No, it stopped. The detective grabbed my arm from the side and made me lower it.
"I'll help you this far. But I'm stopping you from becoming a murderer."
"If you're gonna interfere, then you're a bad guy too, y'know."
If you're a bad guy, I'll kill you both.
"Covered in wounds like you are, that'd be impossible."
True, if I fought this detective now, I'd probably be easily overpowered. So, I really can't have him interfering. Giving myself over to my seething emotions, my eyes naturally widened as the detective adjusted his hat.
"I won't say, 'What will killing him accomplish?' but..."
"No, go ahead and say it. That's right, killing him won't accomplish anything."
This is a story that's already over. A tale from after my dreams and life were devoured.
So, no matter what Nee-sama or I do, nothing will happen.
It doesn't lead anywhere.
"But y'see, if I kill him, my head will be all clear and refreshed, y'know..."
Rather, if I don't, it'll be clouded forever. It'll rot, stagnate. I want to wash it away, quickly.
If I wash it all away and discard every trace of the past, maybe even Nee-sama will be able to see me again. Nee-sama was taken from me. I lost the one person I should have been able to keep facing.
Yeah, that's what I can't forgive the most. It's Nee-sama, yup.
"So, let go."
Even if I plead, the detective doesn't yield. A stubbornness contradicting his gentle face is in his grip.
"It goes without saying, but if you become a murderer, it will cause trouble for your relatives too."
His words shot through me like static electricity.
The detective pierces me straight through with his gaze.
"Are you okay with that?"
I wanted to say, "Like I care!"
In the first place, *we* were the ones who were troubled. Just thinking about it makes my head boil with heat, and I feel like I'll go mad with hatred for Father and Mother. Hot, hot, hot, the area under my eyes feels like it's ignited countless times.
Naturally, I swung the bat. Bringing it down towards the detective's face. He deflected the slow swing, letting it slide off the surface of his duralumin case, and then, without hesitation, he struck my shoulder with it.
The corner of the case slammed into me, and my body was thrown off balance as if I'd been punched in the face. It hurt so much I thought my shoulder was shattered, and I staggered to my knees.
Stroking the spot where the case had hit, the detective said quietly.
"That girl you met this afternoon. Is it okay to ignore her?"
Though understated, what he brought up pierced me as sharply as a needle.
Just when I'd finally resolved myself to come here, he has to make me remember.
That's Nee-sama's...
And, this guy's...
"One way or another, you can't abandon her, can you?"

My resolve crumbles.
His knowing tone made my stomach churn from the depths of my heart. I wanted to kill him, but I knew I couldn't lay a hand on him because I'd lost. There was nothing I could do. Seething, I had no choice but to calm my bared gums with each breath.
I'm glad it's winter now. The coldness of the air I inhale is a salvation. If this were summer, my raging passions would have melted into the heat.
The detective releases my arm. If I wanted to go, I could have moved forward now.
I rest my forehead on the grip of the metal bat planted in the ground, breathing slowly and repeatedly.
Would Nee-sama be sad if I really became a murderer?
Would she torment herself for not being able to stop her foolish younger sister?
Sweat dripped, flowing endlessly as if my skin were exposed to rain. In time with my violently pounding heart, the high school girl's carefree face swayed. That girl really pisses me off.
I hate her. I didn't even want to see her face.
But I couldn't abandon her, and in the end, I become half-heartedly soft, just like Father. I hate both pushing her away and getting so deeply involved I can't escape. I've become a selfish, perfectly ordinary human being.
I feel my breath lighten, as if setting down a heavy burden I'd been carrying.
Rather than feeling relieved, it felt more like I was spitting out what was inside me.
"You're right... I don't want to become any more like Father than I already am, y'know."
"...Is that so. Don't say that too much to his face, okay?"
"Understood, sire."
"Permission granted."
I discard the path of living by brandishing only my own circumstances.
I've probably become a little bit of an adult too. "Yeah," I say, smiling at my well-worn metal bat.
...Alright. That's over and done with, but this is this.
"I just want to make him bleed, so can I get one hit in?"
The detective glances at the kidnapper's face. Even in the dark, the marks of more than just one blow would be clearly visible. Blood was already flowing from his nose and cuts. But that's not it. I want a finishing blow.
Since he'd pretended not to see, I decided to let him have it without holding back.
Feeling like I'm stepping into the batter's box, I ready the metal bat. The kidnapper, beyond his contorted cheek, moves his eyeballs constrainedly to fix on me. Perhaps his eyelids can't fully protect them; tears spill from his dry eyes. The tears were colorless, no different from anyone else's.

I had always looked up at this man. From afar, or pressed close.
Now, for the first time, I look down on him.
I've grown, huh? I finally felt the weight of the passing years.
In the lump of flesh before me, there's nothing I can forgive. His hands, his feet, all of him.
But what I especially can't forgive is that mouth.
A vile well from which disgust and humiliation spring.
"...You licked all over people's bodies, Nee-sama's body, and chewed them up!"
The sound of my molars cracking from too much force reaches my brain.
The moment I recalled Nee-sama's face, crying and pleading, my vision turned bloodred.
When that lifted like a curtain, the kidnapper's mouth was bent like a banana. Belatedly, I saw my outstretched arm and the metal bat. "Bgo-beh," the kidnapper uttered an incoherent sound from his twisted tongue. Several of his front teeth were also broken, stuck to his lips as if overlapping.
"...There's no sensation of having hit him."
What the— I'm dumbfounded. Just my shoulder hurting isn't proof I hit him. It was a precious single shot, but it's completely unsatisfying. Just as I readied myself to sneak in another hit, the detective grabbed my arm. He shakes his head slightly.
"Let's wait for the police for the rest. Explaining will be a pain, though... It'd be good if an acquaintance of mine comes, but I wonder if he's still a detective. Hmm, how old was he? I can't be bothered to count past fifteen, me..."
The detective muttered, counting on his fingers. But perhaps he got bored, as he stopped after bending his third finger. Regretting having lightly promised just one hit, I lowered the bat.
When I lower my arm, my body stiffens in the night chill. The areas overlapping with bleeding lose heat especially quickly.
My teeth were chattering now, belatedly.
The air I exhaled is cold enough to be clad in ice, yet it doesn't look white.
I am pitch black.
"That's not true."
"Huh?"
"Are your injuries okay? Well, no, you're covered in blood, so you don't look fine, but."
I recall Father's anecdotes one by one. It seems I've inherited some strange traits.
"Sorry for all the trouble, ssu."
"Hm? Oh, it's fine. This guy's a bad lolicon, after all."
I wonder if good lolicons even exist. They don't!
"It must be tough being asked by Father to do something like this, eh."
When I pulled myself together and joked lightly, the detective quietly denied it.

"Well... there's this thing called confidentiality, but..." the detective began, then revealed.
"You see, I was asked by your older sister. To find her younger sister."
"At first, I thought it was some kind of joke. What was there to find about a younger sister living normally in the same neighborhood? But when I looked into it a bit, I understood the circumstances... and ended up worrying about how to fulfill this request. After all, even if I brought you right in front of the client, she couldn't see you."
"...Incidentally, this is the fifth time she's brought me this request."
I crouch beside the kidnapper. After confirming his faint breathing, I thrust my fingers into the cheek I'd struck with the bat. As if prying open a shallow wound, I split the flesh. As it opened, the kidnapper spewed cloudy foam. "Hey, what are you doing?"
Ignoring the detective's attempt to stop me, I continue to pry open the wound with my fingers. The flesh resists strongly, but I force a bloody path open. The kidnapper's eyeballs are busy, rolling back and becoming bloodshot. It was like a flag-raising game: raise red, raise white.