By the time April arrived, the evening wind had lost the biting chill of winter.
Just past half past eleven at night, waves of laughter spilled from an izakaya on a back street of Ginza.
Warm yellow light glowed through the frosted-glass door, silhouettes swaying against it.
"Cheers!"
Both sides of the wooden table were packed with the scriptwriters of Fuji TV's Programming Division.
Chief Tanabe Takashi rose with his cup in hand, his face so flushed the color looked ready to spill from his cheeks.
The others answered in kind, cups clinking together with a crisp ring.
The amber liquid swirled in the glasses, a few drops splashing out onto the rim of a soy-sauce dish.
Tsushima Kagami sat in the innermost seat, a glass of juice more than half drained in his hand, a faint smile at the corner of his mouth.
This was already the second round of drinks tonight.
A few hours earlier, the prime-time first episode of The White Tower had finished airing across the Kanto region, and the ratings had come in—22.8%.
Everyone in the Programming Division, along with some of the film crew's directors and actors, had lingered at the station without needing to be asked, waiting on the numbers from the statistics section.
After the figure had been confirmed and reconfirmed, the whole control room erupted into cheers.
The drama had scored even higher in the Kansai region—a full seven percentage points higher.
After all, the story's original setting lay in Kansai, which gave Kansai viewers a special sense of closeness to it.
The celebration afterward began at a high-end ryotei in Ginza.
The entire Programming Division, together with the directors and actors, had launched into their revelry.
Over the course of this collaboration, everyone had come to admire Tsushima Kagami's talent as a scriptwriter, hearts fully won over.
At first there had been those who doubted him for his youth.
This young man rarely said much, but every time he spoke, he cut straight to the heart of the matter.
Never any wasted words, never any showing off.
Gradually, everyone had come to regard him as a colleague—a leader—the Programming Division could truly rely on.
"Come, let's raise another to Tsushima-san!"
Chief Tanabe lifted his cup again.
"Over 20% on the very first episode! I have faith—by the time we reach the finale, we'll break 30%!"
"Right! 30%!"
"The legendary 30%!"
Spirits ran high, and another round of toasts went up.
Tsushima Kagami, as ever, kept them company with juice in place of sake, taking a few sips while the corner of his eye drifted to the clock on the wall.
The hands had already passed half past eleven.
A slight tightness gripped his chest.
Before heading out tonight, he'd told Yukinoshita Shizuku he'd probably be back around nine.
But once the celebration got going, there was no reining it in.
The first round had ended close to ten, and the second was hard to beg off.
After all, it was the Programming Division's own gathering, the Chief was present, and everyone was so warm.
After so many days working side by side, the rapport among them had grown genuinely easy.
So it wouldn't do to snub anyone.
And in truth, much of the celebration was for his sake.
But the time weighed on Tsushima Kagami's mind.
Because in less than half an hour, it would be April 2nd.
That day was also Yukinoshita Shizuku's birthday.
He'd meant to time his return right to the mark.
To give her a surprise.
But at this hour, there was no way he'd make it back from Ginza before midnight.
Still, it was all right. A little late was all right.
What mattered was the thought behind it.
With that, Tsushima Kagami stood and gave Chief Tanabe a small bow.
"Chief, I have some private matters to attend to. Please excuse me."
"Thank you truly for today."
"Eh, Tsushima-san's leaving already?"
Chief Tanabe seemed reluctant to let the night end, but he didn't press him to stay.
"You've worked hard today, Kagami. Go home and get a good rest."
"We start on the next episode again tomorrow."
"Yes. I'll take my leave, then."
"Take care, Tsushima-sensei."
"Thank you for your hard work, Tsushima-sensei."
Amid the chorus of farewells, Tsushima Kagami lifted the izakaya's curtain and stepped out.
The Ginza night was forever dazzling.
Neon signs and the lights from high-rise windows wove together.
Few people remained on the streets now, an occasional taxi or two rolling past.
Tsushima Kagami walked along the street for a few minutes, then stopped short before a cake shop whose lights were still on.
Warm-toned light poured out through the glass display window, where several exquisite cake models stood on show.
An "Open" sign still hung by the door.
He glanced at his watch—still a few minutes until midnight, and yet this shop hadn't closed.
He froze for a moment, then gave his own forehead an exasperated pat.
The gift he'd prepared long ago.
But the birthday cake—he'd completely forgotten to order one.
How could a birthday go without a cake?
Tsushima Kagami pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The bell gave a crisp ding-dong, and the sweet scent of cream filled the shop.
The cake shop was small, its decor simple and cozy.
Behind the counter stood a clerk tidying up, looking ready to close for the night.
"Welcome."
The clerk raised her head and looked at him with faint surprise.
"What can I get for you?"
"I'd like to look at the cakes."
As he spoke, Tsushima Kagami's gaze swept across the refrigerated case.
A few small cakes remained inside, all the ones that hadn't sold today.
By the look of it, they'd have been thrown out at closing.
Tsushima Kagami took his time scanning them.
There was strawberry cream cake, matcha mille-feuille, tiramisu, and one more—
His gaze halted.
At the very back of the case, set apart on its own, sat a small cheesecake.
Its golden surface glistened faintly, temptingly.
Tsushima Kagami stared at that cheesecake, and another image surfaced in his mind.
It was from when he'd first come to this world.
Back then, Yukinoshita Shizuku had worked part-time at a cake shop, and every day after her shift she'd bring home the cheesecakes marked down near their expiry.
In fact, at first it hadn't only been those—there'd been bread and rice balls too.
But Tsushima Kagami was a picky eater, and he'd decided only that cheesecake tasted halfway decent.
So from then on, Yukinoshita Shizuku had basically brought home only cheesecake to feed him.
And it was that very cheesecake, in the same way, that had set him on the path of the literary master he was now.
Later on he'd often bought them to feed Yukino as well.
But tonight, having forgotten to order a birthday cake, Tsushima Kagami figured that maybe a cheesecake in its place was something Shizuku would like all the same.
He stood where he was, his gaze lingering long on that slice of cake.
"Sir?"
The clerk called out tentatively.
"Sorry."
Tsushima Kagami came back to himself and pointed at the boxed cheesecake.
"I'll take this one."
"And some birthday candles, if you'd pack them together for me."
"Of course."
The clerk lifted the cake from the case and packed it neatly into a paper box with practiced hands.
Then she found a few slender, colorful candles.
"Would you like anything written on it?"
"No need. This is fine."
Tsushima Kagami paid and walked out carrying the cake box.
A faint coolness seeped through the cardboard.
He glanced down at it, and the corners of his mouth curved on their own.
Then he strode to the street corner, flagged down a taxi, and hurried home.
When Tsushima Kagami finally reached home.
He carried a small cake box in his hand.
Standing before his own front door, he was about to press the bell.
The hand he'd stretched out stopped halfway.
In the end he drew it back and fished a key out of his pocket.
Shizuku was probably already asleep by now.
During the second round with the Programming Division, he'd sent a message saying he might be back very late and telling her to sleep first.
Shizuku had replied then with a simple "Got it."
At this hour, she'd surely have gone to bed.
So in the end Tsushima Kagami took out his key and let himself in.
He'd slip back quietly, put the cake in the fridge, and give her a surprise tomorrow morning.
That would do just as well.
Gently he slid the key into the lock, then slowly turned the handle.
Only when he stepped into the entryway did he notice the living room light was still on.
Tsushima Kagami paused, faintly startled.
So late, and she hadn't gone to sleep?
Hadn't he told her not to wait up?
So he said it anyway.
"I'm home."
But there was no answer.
Tsushima Kagami changed out of his shoes and carried the cake box into the living room.
Then his steps came to a stop.
He saw Yukinoshita Shizuku asleep, slumped over the living room table.
Her head rested on her folded arms, her face turned to one side.
Her long hair spilled over her shoulder and across the table, like a swath of soft black silk.
The television had been muted, a late-night variety-show rerun playing on the screen.
The soundless picture flickered bright and dark, casting its glow over her quiet profile.
Yukino, too, was curled up asleep beside her.
On the table sat a small dish of what looked like udon for a late-night snack, and beside it a cup of hot cocoa gone stone cold.
It seemed she'd made them before he'd sent his message, back when she thought he'd be home soon.
Tsushima Kagami stood there, the cake box in hand, momentarily at a loss.
He remembered, long ago, the nights he'd come home late.
Grandma would always sit in the living room waiting for him, leaving a lamp on for him.
No matter how late he came home, the living room light was always on.
Then Grandma had passed away.
That lamp was never left on for him again.
He'd thought there'd never be such a thing again in this life.
Yet now—a woman asleep at the table.
A single lamp burning in the living room.
A bowl of late-night snack gone cold.
A cup of hot cocoa turned cold to the last drop.
These most ordinary things, like an invisible hand, seized tight around his heart.
Tsushima Kagami set the cake box softly on the shoe cabinet in the entryway, then, light on his feet, crept over to Yukinoshita Shizuku's side.
Asleep, Yukinoshita Shizuku looked gentler than when she was awake.
Her features were exquisite to begin with, and now, in the lamplight, they seemed warm and smooth as jade.
Her lashes were long, resting quietly beneath her eyes.
Tsushima Kagami hesitated.
Should he wake her?
Or let her keep sleeping?
She'd been waiting for him to come home. If he just let her sleep until dawn—
would she feel let down when she woke?
But waking her seemed cruel too, when she slept so peacefully.
In the end Tsushima Kagami slipped off his own coat and, with the lightest, slowest of movements, draped it over her shoulders.
The coat carried his body's warmth, and the faint smell of smoke and drink from the izakaya that hadn't yet faded.
The moment it settled over her shoulders, her lashes trembled ever so slightly.
"Kagami?"
The murmur came like sleep-talk.
Tsushima Kagami couldn't tell whether she'd woken and was calling to him, or whether it was a dreaming mutter.
Then he saw her shoulder stir softly.
She didn't lift her head, still heavy with the languor of just waking.
Tenderly, she said.
"You're back."
Tsushima Kagami's hand still rested on her shoulder, unwithdrawn.
Yukinoshita Shizuku slowly opened her eyes, her gaze falling on the coat over her shoulders.
Then she raised her head at last and turned to look at Tsushima Kagami standing behind her.
Her eyes were still hazy, but in those black pupils his face was mirrored.
"Are you hungry?"
"You never eat much at these gatherings."
Yukinoshita Shizuku glanced at the cold snack on the table as she said it.
Then she smiled.
"I'll go make you a fresh late-night snack."
She started to rise as she spoke.
But Tsushima Kagami's hand pressed down on her shoulder, keeping her from standing.
Yukinoshita Shizuku went still for a moment and lifted her eyes to him.
"What is it?"
Tsushima Kagami didn't answer right away.
He looked at her face.
She'd probably truly forgotten what day it was today.
Or perhaps she simply didn't want to remember.
It was only later that Tsushima Kagami had learned Yukinoshita Shizuku's father had taken his own life on her birthday.
She had never brought it up herself; Tsushima Kagami had pieced it together from a few scattered fragments Mrs. Yukinoshita had let slip.
Her father had chosen that day to end his life, and from then on her birthday had become a heavy marker.
It stood to reason no one would want to celebrate their birthday anymore.
When Tsushima Kagami had first come to this world, it happened to be her birthday.
But back then she'd been left with her family shattered, only recently returned to Chiba and barely scraping by.
Where would she have found the heart to celebrate a birthday?
So…
Would she really want to celebrate this day?
He'd planned to give her a surprise.
But now, standing here, he suddenly felt he might have gotten it wrong.
Maybe she didn't want to observe this birthday at all.
Maybe this day, to her, had never been one worth celebrating.
Only a long, agonizing day to endure.
What should he do?
Take out the cake, light the candles, smile and tell her "Happy birthday"?
Or say nothing, and once she'd gone back to her room and fallen fast asleep, quietly leave the gift by her pillow?
Or just act as if nothing had happened, and let the day pass by plain and uneventful?
A flicker crossed Tsushima Kagami's gaze, a trace of hesitation almost too faint to notice at the bottom of his eyes.
"What's the matter with you?"
Yukinoshita Shizuku's voice broke into his thoughts.
She tilted her head at him, curiosity and a little worry in her eyes.
"It's nothing."
Tsushima Kagami answered at once.
"You seem strange all of a sudden."
Her gaze dropped, landing on his right hand, which he'd kept behind his back the whole time.
"What are you hiding in your right hand?"
Tsushima Kagami went blank for a beat and instinctively tucked the hand further behind him.
But he realized at once that the gesture only made him look more suspicious.
He looked into Yukinoshita Shizuku's clear eyes, and made a decision.
He'd celebrate after all.
What was past was past.
That grief, that pain, those memories she didn't want to revisit—they wouldn't vanish just because a person turned away from them.
But they could be covered over by new memories.
Shizuku was no longer the sensitive, fragile girl she'd once been.
She had herself.
She had him at her side.
Whatever the grief, he would see her through it together.
"Sit still, don't move."
Tsushima Kagami pressed down on her shoulder as she made to rise again.
Yukinoshita Shizuku went still for a moment, but obediently sat back down.
She watched Tsushima Kagami turn and stride quickly toward the entryway.
Then, with his back to her, he fussed over something she couldn't make out.
She saw him seem to be unwrapping something.
A long while later.
She heard a click, and Tsushima Kagami switched off the entryway light.
Right after, the living room light went out too.
The sudden darkness made Yukinoshita Shizuku's pupils dilate in an instant.
In the dark, she saw a faint glow kindle beside Tsushima Kagami.
Then she heard his voice.
"Happy birthday to you…"
He turned slowly out of the darkness, both hands cupping a small cake.
Golden. A cheesecake.
A single candle stood atop it.
The orange flame burned quietly in the dark, lighting his face.
His expression was a little sheepish, yet a smile hung at the corner of his mouth.
The candlelight was reflected in his eyes, like two tiny stars.
"Happy birthday to you…"
He sang as he walked slowly toward her, moving carefully, afraid the wind might blow the candle out.
"Happy birthday, dear Shizuku…"
He came before her, bent down, and set the cake steadily on the table.
Yukino, roused awake now along with them, circled around the cake.
But surprisingly, she didn't take a bite of it the way she usually would.
Tsushima Kagami looked into her eyes.
The candlelight danced between them, gilding both their faces with a warm color.
"Happy birthday to you."
"Shizuku, happy birthday."
Yukinoshita Shizuku didn't answer.
Tsushima Kagami saw her eyes redden in an instant.
Then she suddenly flung both hands up and clamped them tight over her mouth.
In the faint candlelight he could see her fingers trembling.
Tsushima Kagami saw tears spilling out from between her fingers, running down the backs of her hands.
She made no sound of weeping, but her shoulders shook violently.
"Don't cry."
Tsushima Kagami reached out at once to wipe the tears from her face.
His thumb brushed across her cheekbone and touched a scalding wetness.
Yukinoshita Shizuku suddenly let go of her mouth and lunged forward.
She crashed straight into his arms.
Tsushima Kagami was knocked back, but quickly steadied himself.
One hand braced on the floor, the other wrapped tight around her back.
She pressed against him, pressed very close.
He could feel her body trembling, could feel her tears soaking through the cloth over his chest, could feel her fingers clutching his clothes as if she feared he'd vanish the very next second.
He didn't speak.
He only held her, one hand patting her back gently, the way one soothes a frightened child.
Time flowed on in the dark, the candle still burning.
The orange firelight cast swaying shadows over them both.
A long time passed.
At last Yukinoshita Shizuku spoke.
"I'm so scared…"
"Scared that one day you'll suddenly get hurt and end up in the hospital again, and then never wake up."
"So scared that you're only some delusion in a dream I fled into after my father died."
"That once I wake up, you won't exist anymore."
Tsushima Kagami could feel his clothes clutched even tighter in her fingers.
"It's enough already."
"Let's end this ambiguous game we call playing brother and sister."
Her voice began to quiver, but there was a reckless resolve in her tone.
"I don't need you to make me any promises."
"I don't need you to keep to any obligation."
"I don't care about anything anymore."
She lifted her head from his chest, looking at him through tear-blurred eyes.
The candlelight shattered into fragments in her wet eyes, like stars broken to pieces.
Her lashes trembled, her lips quivering faintly.
Her whole self was like a string drawn taut too long, about to snap completely in this moment.
"Please, take me."
"Kagami."
Every word carried blood, carried tears, carried all her fear, all her longing, all the unease she had never once put into words.
The room was utterly silent.
Tsushima Kagami looked into her eyes.
In those black pupils, there was only his reflection.
The candle on the cake finally burned itself out, and the room sank into total darkness.
____
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