"Sis, I'll get your rice."
As soon as the dishes were set down—but before Hojo Shione could sit—her little sister scurried over and placed a small bowl of rice in front of her.
?
Sensing something off, Shione narrowed her eyes and looked at her suspiciously.
Caught under that gaze, Hojo Suzune's heart skipped, but she put on a bright smile. "What's wrong, Sis? Sit, sit."
She hurried behind her and pulled out the chair, all solicitous.
Shione didn't move. Watching her sister with a half-smile, she asked softly, "What's up, Suzune? What's with serving your sister dinner today?"
Suzune parted her lips, then lowered her eyes. "You haven't come home in so long… I just… missed you a little…"
Her voice shrank, as if shy.
"I see."
Shione nodded thoughtfully, then reached to feel Suzune's forehead, brushing aside her bangs. No fever. She met her eyes. "I missed you too, Suzune. But how come you didn't miss me yesterday, or the day before—only today?"
"…"
Pressed, Suzune looked down, toes digging at her slippers, hands clenched at her sides.
Old hag, don't push your luck…
She bit the tip of her tongue, and when she raised her head her eyes were brimming. "I really did miss you. When Mom mentioned you just now, I felt so guilty…"
Seeing her sister's misty eyes, Shione softened, patted her head, and said gently, "Suzune's getting sensible."
Before Suzune could answer, Mrs. Hojo came over from the kitchen, tugged a chair out, and said, "About time. You're eighteen in a few days. If you don't wise up, life will eat you."
Enduring the head-pat trauma of "you'll never grow taller," Suzune's eyes darted; she let it pass.
"Let's eat," Mom said, watching her two daughters with satisfaction. Looked like her earlier talk hadn't been for nothing.
"Where's Dad? We're not waiting?" Shione sat and glanced at the empty head seat.
At that, Mom's face darkened. She picked up her chopsticks. "No. He said he's drinking with coworkers tonight."
"Oh…"
Shione frowned but said nothing. She was used to it; it had always been like this. Better if he wasn't here—saved them from another petty fight.
Just as she expected, even without Hojo Masahito, dinner was perfectly harmonious.
"Sis, try this."
"Sis, fish cheek's the best. You work hard—make up for it."
"Sis, why aren't you drinking your soup…"
…
Like a busy little bee, Suzune kept piling food into her sister's bowl, even sliding plates closer to her side. In minutes Shione's bowl was a little mountain, with soup and sides all migrating her way.
Shione stared at the growing pile, at a loss, a wry smile on her face.
Mrs. Hojo set her chopsticks down and watched the younger girl in silence.
"Sis—"
Smack! Mom slapped her chopsticks on the table. Suzune jumped and glanced over.
"Suzune, eat your own food."
Suzune's mouth drooped. "I am eating. I just want to be nice to Sis."
"Then why don't you just feed her."
Suzune glanced at her sister, bit her lip—actually wavering. Feeding her wouldn't be impossible…
The air stalled. Shione laughed it off. "Alright, let's eat. Thanks, Suzune. I missed you too. It's been so long—looks like you've gotten thinner. Eat more."
She flicked a glance at her sister's chest and dropped the fish cheek into Suzune's bowl.
Catching the look, Suzune bristled inside but put on a grateful smile. "Thanks, Sis."
…
Dinner ended in a warm mood. After tidying up—and once Mom had gone to her room—Suzune eyed her sister on the sofa watching TV, scooted over, and perched beside her.
Shione had been watching her with her peripheral vision the whole time but said nothing, lounging and staring at the screen.
Definitely up to something.
She'd grown up with this girl—she knew her temperament best. Sleeps like a dog, eats like a pig, stubborn as a mule—nothing could describe her better. Especially the stubborn part.
Back in junior high she'd snuck off to Hokkaido alone. Got caught, refused to admit fault; one word to her, ten back at you. Relying on her piano talent, she'd strutted around school like she owned the place. Treated ensemble practice like a public restroom—coming and going as she pleased. When she didn't get a competition slot, she made a scene until they held a fair audition; she won, naturally, and left the backdoor candidate sobbing.
If it wasn't Shiratori Kiyoya talking, she wouldn't listen. Chin in the air, goose-proud. Even as an older sister, Shione had gotten plenty of barbs—especially while dating Kiyoya; Suzune almost never gave her a kind face.
Suzune liked Kiyoya.
She'd often cling to him under cover of "little sister," always sticking to his side. Shione had noticed long ago, but she didn't want to worsen their already touchy relationship; they were sisters, after all, so she overlooked it.
So the idea that Suzune was "sad" about her breakup? Not a word of it. If she didn't set off fireworks, she was already being conscientious.
A sister like this, suddenly having a change of heart? As if.
"Sis~ are you showering?" Suzune edged closer, all smiles.
"I'm not in a hurry. You go first," Shione said flatly, not even turning her head.
"Oh… I'm not in a hurry either. I'll go run the bath for you."
She hopped up and scampered to the bathroom. Ten minutes later she emerged, T-shirt damp, dashed to the fridge, pulled out a bag of chips, and presented them like treasure. "These are new—want to try?"
Shione smiled, eyes sliding to her. "I'm cutting back. No snacks." She cleared her throat delicately. "My voice has been a little off lately…"
Suzune's eyes lit up. "I'll make you honey water!"
…
A moment later, she set a steaming cup on the coffee table. "Sis, honey water's ready."
"Thank you, Suzune."
"Don't be so polite. We're sisters. You work so hard…"
Pleased with her attitude, Shione lifted the cup and peered inside, then gave Suzune a meaningful look. "You didn't put anything weird in this, did you?"
Suzune's face tightened—she knew this was about the time she'd salted the honey water. Awkwardness pricked, but she kept up the act. "If you don't trust me, I'll take the first sip…
"I really am trying to be nice. Don't say that."
Shione let it blow past her ears, took a sip, set the cup down, and kept watching TV without a word.
"…"
The air stalled again. Suzune rubbed her fingers together, pursed her lips, and tried: "Sis, I'm turning eighteen in a couple days."
"Mhm. I know." Shione nodded. "Tell me what you want—I'll come back to celebrate."
What I want, you can't bring back.
Suzune chose her words. "You're so busy—you don't have to come back just for my birthday…"
When Shione stayed quiet, she continued, "I've never really played around Tokyo. I want to take birthday photos in Tokyo."
Called it.
Shione flicked a look at her, putting on a troubled face. "But if I'm in Tokyo, I won't have time to keep you company. A lot of people know me there…"
"I see…" Suzune put on a regretful expression; her heart was pounding, fingers curling at her side.
All or nothing.
She drew a shallow breath, as if struck by inspiration. "Oh—Sis, have you been in touch with Shiratori-kun lately?"
Not "Kiyoya Kiyoya" anymore? Shione sneered inwardly, but wore a pained look. "No. Why?"
"No reason. It's just—I heard he's studying in Tokyo too. If you're busy, maybe he could show me around? What do you think?"
Shione didn't answer. She swung her legs off the couch, sat up straight, face turning serious, eyes fixed on her sister. "You've contacted Kiyoya, haven't you?"
Suzune's heart gave a thud. She forced a stiff smile and denied it on reflex. "Of course not, Sis…"
"Don't talk," Shione said, raising a hand. "Let me guess.
"You somehow got his number and told him your birthday wish was to visit Tokyo, right?
"And he told you he'd only take you if I agreed?"
"…"
Suzune's smile died. Her fine brows knit; her eyes darkened.
Seeing her face, Shione knew she'd hit the mark. She lifted the cup, took another sip, and said softly, "What's wrong, Suzune? Did I get it wrong? Why the long face?"
With things laid bare, Suzune dropped the act and stared coldly. "So—are you agreeing or not?"
"Agree, of course. Why wouldn't I?"
"If you don't—"
She'd assumed the plan was wrecked and that begging would be useless, and was about to retreat to hatch something else—then she realized what she'd heard. She stared, incredulous. "You're agreeing?"
"Why wouldn't I? You're my most beloved little sister," Shione said, holding her gaze, then smiled and stroked her cheek.
Suzune swallowed; her heart thumped. She could hardly believe her sister had agreed so easily.
She was about to speak when Shione asked something odd:
"Suzune, I remember Kiyoya once praised your piano talent, didn't he?"