The bell rang, signalling that the day had come to an end. Everyone in my class sat up, executing the usual dismissal routines before packing their bags and heading home. As I was in the middle of packing my own, someone lightly tapped me on the shoulder. I knew who it was without needing to look up.
"What is it, Yuka?" I said, trying to sound as annoyed as possible.
Yuka crouched down until she was at eye level with me. She looked at me with a concerned frown, but I shook my head and gave her the same answer I had been giving her all day.
"For the hundredth time, Yuka, I'm fine."
Yuka let out a tired sigh.
"Lily, you can fool a lot of people—I know that better than anyone. But you can't fool me," she said as she gently placed her hand on my shoulder. "C'mon, talk to me."
Talk to me, she says. Her words rang in my ears. I couldn't help but let out a hollow chuckle. Those were the same exact words I told my Brother, and here I was doing the same thing he did. My chuckle fizzled out as I bit my lower lip.
Yuka stopped asking me questions after that. Instead, she pulled me into a tight hug—but I remained limp, never holding onto her in return. Her warmth felt like it belonged to a world I wasn't a part of anymore.
After a short pause, she helped me pack my things and even carried them for me until we reached the school exit. We exchanged a small goodbye before parting ways. I began walking home all on my own. Or at least, I was supposed to be alone.
As I walked, I saw a figure leaning against a lightpost. The moment he saw me, he stood up and began walking in the same direction I was. He didn't say a word, and neither did I. I lowered my gaze and walked the rest of the way home while staring at the snowy ground. The distance between us felt wider than the entire street.
Once I got home, I took a shower, ate dinner, drank my medicine, did my homework, and slept until the next day arrived. It was as if nothing had happened at all.
***
After waking up and doing my morning routine, I decided to eat breakfast with Dad. Well, it was more like I just stole half of his since Mom only makes him breakfast. As I was eating, Dad put his hand on my head. He let out an impressed whistle.
"Wow, you're getting better already! I think by tomorrow you should be as good as new."
"Hmm? Is that so? That's good, I guess," I replied absentmindedly as I stuffed my mouth full of rice.
We continued eating in silence after that. But that silence was short-lived as the sound of footsteps began descending the stairs.
"Oh, good morning, Son. You're down here late today," Mom said teasingly.
My leg twitched slightly, but I continued eating in silence. As I kept my eyes on my food, I heard Mom walk out of the kitchen and give him his lunch.
"Yeah, I woke up late," he replied with his usual cold voice.
I hurriedly scooped the remainder of my food and swallowed it all down in one gulp. Dad looked at me with his mouth hanging open, but I ignored him.
I quickly got up, dry-swallowed my medication, grabbed my bag, put on my shoes, and walked to school. I didn't wait. I didn't look back.
***
The bell rang, signalling the end of the day. We all got up, did our usual dismissal routines, and began exiting the school building. I said my goodbyes to Yuka and began walking home. As I did, a person approached me from behind until he was walking side-by-side with me.
I hung my head low as an uncomfortable silence grew between us. Even though we were right next to each other, it felt like we had never been further apart. The only sound was the subtle crunch our footsteps left in the snow.
After a while, one of us finally spoke—and it wasn't me.
"So, how was school today?"
A light pang pierced my heart, making me forget to breathe for a moment, but I quickly shook it off. Even though he was asking, I knew he didn't really care about the answer. It was just a formality, so there's no need to get my hopes up.
Actually, it's almost like nothing's changed. This is how our relationship has been for years now. Thinking of it like that, it became easier for me to play my part.
"It was just the usual," I replied coldly.
An awkward pause hung between us before he decided to speak again. "Well, you're halfway through your first year of middle school. It'll pick up once you're in your third year."
"Well, I'll look forward to that then."
After that, we both continued walking home in silence.
***
The next morning came. It was a weekend, so I shouldn't have been up this early. Yet Dad decided to barge into my room at eight in the morning and check my temperature. When he saw the results, he let out a relieved sigh before screaming at the top of his lungs.
"MY LOVELY DAUGHTER IS FINALLY CURED OF HER ILLNESS!"
I was forced to cover my ears due to the sheer magnitude of his voice. Even after I let go, soft echoes of my Dad's cries reverberated off the walls. But those echoes were cut off by the sound of a door swinging open, bringing a cool breeze into the room.
Both my Dad and I turned towards the door. There stood a figure rubbing his eyes while yawning.
"Why are you guys yelling so early in the morning? You know we have people in the house still trying to sleep, right?" he said as he covered his mouth, letting out his third yawn.
Dad snickered at him while shaking his head. "Excuse me? Who wouldn't cheer over the recovery of their sweet daughter?!"
My Brother stopped mid-yawn and looked at both Dad and me with a blank expression. The mask was back on, as smooth and cold as it always was. He was pretending he hadn't seen me scream that night. He was pretending he hadn't seen my tears.
"She was… sick?"
Dad let out an audible gasp. Before he could say anything more, I interjected matter-of-factly. "Dad, give up. Of course, my Brother wouldn't notice. He doesn't care about anything."
Brother chuckled a little when I said that. "You got me there, Lily."
With that, he turned around and returned to his room. Once he was gone, Dad turned to face me once more with a disgruntled expression.
"The nerve! He didn't even notice his little sister was sick?! How–"
Before Dad could finish, I waved my hand in the air, brushing off his words. He looked at me with a confused gaze, so I explained as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Listen, Dad, that's just the way he is. I don't know about you, but he's always been that way. So let's just give it up."
I felt a strange, hollow satisfaction as the words left my mouth. It's taken me so long to realize, but we really are the same. For the first time, it felt like I could finally understand him to a degree.
I got up from bed, grabbed Dad's hand, and dragged him downstairs. I forced him to make breakfast for me. He tried to complain, saying, "But you never eat breakfast," but I refuted him by saying he owed me one for waking me up so early.
Just like that, everything was back to "normal." The fever went away, just like Dad said it would. Brother and I began talking again like usual, even cracking a few jokes here and there. Yuka stopped pestering me, and even Mom and Dad stopped having worried looks on their faces whenever we were in the same room together. It was like everything was just a fever dream.
***
The memory fractured. My perspective zoomed out until I watched three different versions of me living three different parts of my life. My eyes zoned in on the last memory, the one that I had just lived through. "Like everything was just a fever dream," I said.
I couldn't help but chuckle, my own voice echoing in this white void.
How nice would that have been, am I right? Ever since that day, I've prayed to the Gods and Devils that it really was just a fever dream. But no matter how much I prayed, Hoshino never called me 'Lil Sis' again, and I never called him 'Big Brother' again…
Or at least, that's what I thought. But maybe… God really does exist, because now I have a second chance. He still hasn't called me 'Lil Sis', and he probably never will ever again. But instead, he told me he loved me. Today, he showed me that he still cares about me.
So, I'll cling to that love if it's the last thing I do. I won't make the same mistake twice. I'll keep pretending, keep acting—I'll keep playing the fool until the day I die.