Chapter 2: A Familiar Predicament (II)

When the night crept in, it was another round of arrangement and adjustment of things in our house.

We finished dinner talking about the room assignments, grocery responsibilities, our parents' work schedules and various future long-term plans. I also learned that they already agreed not to change surnames, so I would still continue addressing them by their maiden names. As expected, my old man was leading the topics, while Misaki-san closely followed up, smiling constantly through our meal.

The unexpected—Shiori actually contributed to the conversation through short acknowledgments.

And I was left with just my usual two to three word responses above my discomfort, but enough to make sense.

Overall, it was pleasant. I'm satisfied that no one asked about the two year gap in my schooling or any mentions of middle school scandals. Everyone on the table was smart enough to know exactly where not to dig.

The air between each exchange was comfortable for our parents, but to us children, a western quick draw was being held.

After that, my father and Misaki-san stayed in the kitchen to wash dishes together. I led Shiori to her new room upon my father's orders.

Our rooms are next to each other, but mine is adjacent to the stairs, so I don't need to walk past her door unless necessary.

But that's not the real problem.

Having someone next door made me consider changing my lifestyle completely. No more ambient music at night, no extra shuffling in bed and I must use headphones if I were to play games.

I kept my glance when she entered her room with interest surfacing on her face.

No, I wasn't staring at her on purpose. But to be honest, the sweet girly scent she gave off, whether by shampoo, perfume or natural body fragrance, had me hooked for a moment before I hung my head down.

And for a long while, I was standing on the doorway of her room.

From here, her wavy ash-blonde hair caught the ceiling light in a dull shimmer.

"I'm going to get changed..."

The first words came from her, and it was enough to break my stupor.

"Ah, eh...I'm sorry."

As I was about to close the door, she stopped me.

"No, you stay."

"Huh?"

What do you mean that I should stay?

I don't even think that changing clothes with the opposite sex still around is in the category of decency.

"I'm just breaking the ice. If I never did, you'll just end up standing in the doorway." she said without turning around.

After a beat of hesitation, I moved into the room, but kept a considerable distance away from her.

"I was...thinking."

Deep inside, the subtle turn of events proved too much to handle. But in the end, I decided to swallow that honesty or it will only consume the composure I've been keeping.

“…Sorry, Fujimiya-kun. I mean, if you're upset right now.”

Her voice was quieter now, less teasing.

I looked up. “I'm not upset.”

"It's really a weird start, isn't it? I know too. It would be normal to be upset."

For a moment, I just stared at Shiori, unsure if I’d actually heard those words come from her mouth. It's not the most promising time to think about it, but given the sincerity and restraint in her voice, one wouldn't think that she would be the same girl that said 'get lost and go to hell' to me two years ago when I was still begging for her to take back her accusations.

She never apologized or at least tried to understand me.

Hearing this, it felt...off. It was as if a known musician changed genres.

“…I see.” I kept my tone flat.

Given the situation, opening that door wouldn't be a wise choice. I don't even have an idea how to close it at all.

So instead, I stepped closer to her desk and picked up one of the unopened cardboard boxes. “Anyways, Misaki-san told me to help you unpack, so excuse me for the intrusion."

“I was reminded too, don't worry.”

“Then I'll start…”

For the next few moments, I was just hunched on the boxes, trying to remove the tapes that sealed them one by one.

It was just the second box when the first beads of sweat started to trickle down my face.

I thought that Shiori was just watching, but that assumption completely fell apart when she spoke again.

“I’m sorry that it had to be us, of all people.”

“This cabinet right here isn't brand new, but can hold weight like one. Your hardcovers and paperbacks will do just fine.” I said, gesturing towards the wooden furniture. “But if you want to move things around, feel free. I’ll handle it.”

I heard her gasp, caught off guard by my offhand reply.

"...Are you...avoiding it?"

“These are drawing equipment, right? Then, I'm placing it on the table.”

"Fujimiya-kun."

She waited, maybe expecting me to say something, which I didn’t.

"You can sort all types of clothings and accessories in this drawer.”

She finally raised an eyebrow.

“That’s not what I'm talking about, Fujimiya-kun. Won't you stop acting up and listen to me for a second?”

The shriek of tapes being peeled covered up for the replies that I didn't let out. I was kneeling and removing things from her suitcase, keeping myself busy on pretense.

She didn't speak after that—looks like I won the battle for control, at least for tonight.

As expected, there was nothing interesting in her belongings except for neatly folded clothes and a make-up pouch that was shaped like a cat's paw.

At the bottom of the pile were photo frames covered in plastic wrapping. I told myself not to look but I was a second too late.

One of them was her as a child with Misaki-san, and they were both wearing yukata. At the bottom, Shiori in middle school. The last frames contained a few more recent pictures with her friends I didn’t recognize.

Lastly, beneath the sweaters, folded with deliberate care, was the gray blazer and light pink skirt of Meishin Private Academy.

Before I could even begin to unpack the implications, she said: “I’m transferring there.”

I placed the uniform beside the suitcase. “…I see.”

“That's it?”

I kept my expression still. My hands, however, betrayed me—fingers tightening around the fabric of the uniform.

"That's all there is to say. Education is one primary requirement of a human to function in society. What kind of person does it make me if I'm going to deprive you of that?"

I could picture her behind me studying me with a stiff look.

“I’m talking about our former situation.”

“I can deal with it. It's not like everyone in the school knows about what happened between us back then.”

And this is exactly what I was afraid of earlier—I’m finally opening up not just our past, but the wounds only the two of us know.

“I’m placed in the same class as you, but I submitted a letter of request to switch sections, which they surprisingly allowed. That way, I avoided putting you in much more discomfort."

That made me turn around, asking myself if I heard that right.

“Did you know all of this beforehand?”

“Yes. Reiji-san visited us weeks before their formal marriage.”

I felt my stomach churning slightly. Why am I informed of the marriage later than everyone? It's not like I'm going to protest at something that is meaningful to him.

Like I said, things like these aren't enough to get a strong reaction from me, and I already assured my father that his happiness equates to mine.

While I was thinking about this, Shiori stepped closer, inches away from crossing the personal space I always kept away from reach.

“I expected that you’ll try to keep your distance from the past. But we can’t possibly adjust to this situation if we’re not going to open up to ourselves about it.”

The truth she laid out hit me in the jugular. She doesn’t want us to pretend and wants to deal with it accordingly. But as for how things stand right now, I don’t trust myself to start that conversation yet. I don’t even trust her to begin with.

So I defaulted to the safer ground: Retreating.

But as I was about to leave, her hand tugged at the hem of my shirt.

“Fujimiya-kun.” Her tone cut through mine with surgical precision.

I stopped.

“I have no expectations of us getting along in the near future given our history. If that means acting like strangers and maintaining distance for our mutual convenience, then so be it. I’m not forcing you to open up about what you feel about me immediately. You could be angry, frustrated, hate me even, but one thing is for sure—I don’t care at all. I can stand being ignored, and I can stand on my own. But please…” she trailed off, tightening her grip. “...don’t make this home a stranger’s place, especially in front of our parents.”

I studied her face. It was too far from what she had in middle school. She acted with dominance and confidence, using her polished beauty as a weapon to let her play follow the leader. Now, seeing her this resigned and vulnerable, I wondered if this is still the same Shiori I’m talking to.

“I’m also thinking that this kind of setup suits us best.” I replied. “While I'm aware of the pace of your adjustment, I hope you'll follow through with mine.”

Though I find the situation strange since it’s not ideal for siblings to act like strangers, I suppose this is the only way for the two of us to start off that process to keep this house livable despite the burdens we’re practically dragging.

“I understand. Then, let’s act at least like a family until we figure out how to live under the same roof.”

I nodded. “As much as possible…I’ll keep my distance until the past stops being unbearable.”

“…If that’s how it is, then I’ll respect it.”

With that, she stepped back, leaving a silence between us that felt like a wall.

“...Thanks.”

I walked to the doorway, and left without looking back.

In my own room, I locked the door.

And that’s where everything that we talked about earlier sinked in.

She said that I could be angry, frustrated or even hate her. I would be lying if I said I didn’t. But resentment in particular contrasts my vision of protecting my family. So, as much as possible, I have to think of the past as nothing but a badly written film I never wanted to watch once more.

I should feel nothing, right?

Then why were there cold streaks trailing down my cheeks?