6

The monotony of the register beeping was oddly soothing for someone who went through the irony of the universe for the last few days. First, he got a little sister that was formerly his enemy. Second, he nearly burned his face by HCI. Third, he grabbed his little sister’s hand out of nowhere, confessed that he hates her, and told her to cook for him in return.

And lastly—

“Excuse me?”

“Ah—eh, sorry!”

I was so busy thinking about my own problems that I didn’t even notice the customer on the counter. I lifted my gaze, startled, and started scanning his items.

Instant noodles: Pii.

A bottle of cola: Pii.

Rice balls: Pii.

As he left, I scratched my head and released a heaving sigh of relaxation.

It’s been days since that encounter with Asahina-san and yet, the memories just won’t leave my head. I can say that I’m pretty distracted the whole shift, and routine became my saving grace all of this time.

For someone who already spent two years in this job, scanning barcodes, bagging food and pressing buttons, it was a rhythm I could follow without thinking.

Rhythm is reliable. Rhythm doesn't betray you. Without betrayal, the world would be at perpetual peace.

Unless there's a senpai beside you who relied on her constant frivolous rants and muffled tirades on customers' backs as a form of mental torture I endured every single day.

"Kaeeeede-kun~"

Speaking of the devil, that hell of a lilt that always stood on the edge of saying something gentle and something inappropriate came from my colleague, Shugi Miyami, a third-year highschool student at the elite Kaiyou Academy in the next city.

Her black silken hair is tied into long twin braids that always hang down her shoulders. Behind her glasses were a snowy spotless face and eyes that twinkled whenever she smiled with mischief.

We were wearing Egao Mart's sky blue uniform with our respective nameplates pinned over our chest. And this colleague right here becomes my partner in crime when no one is around.

"What?"

"I heard you suddenly got a family upgrade, hehe."

I frowned at the accuracy of her assumption. Was it pure female intuition?

"Don't say it that way. 'Family upgrade' sounds like you endorsed a household appliance, and not a personal life reference."

Two cola bottles landed on the counter, and I registered them quickly with the usual beeps.

"Whaaaaaat?" she suddenly bumped me on the shoulder. "You're not denying it?"

After Daiki, I never really told anyone about the old man's remarriage. Maybe rumors spread fast in this city, or Miyami-senpai had antennae for personal gossip. But sooner as I thought about it, I realized where it came from.

"As if my father doesn't drop by here occasionally and chitchat with his favorite clerk."

“Aw, that’s so good to hear!” she proudly beamed. “I really love the honesty of Reiji-san!”

No, he’s not. He’s probably just trying to feed your ego so you can feed him discounts in return.

Jokes aside, silence and secrecy might have been my best defense but in the case of my father, brandishing breaking news was his favorite weapon.

"You know what? He practically told me that you have a little sister around your age.” she said, leaning conspiratorily. “Tell me, is she beautiful? What are her unique traits? Cup size? Do you take baths together? Does she sneak in your room every morning to check on your bon—"

Before she could even spell out the worst encounters that two people can experience, I cut her off with a huff.

"Your simulations are a threat to world balance." I deadpanned. "I wish that otakus like you were more decent and less nosy."

"Isn't it? If you suddenly start calling her 'little sister-chan~' with a high-pitched voice of yours, then I'm quitting this job.”

“Alright, then I’ll say it—”

“No~!” she suddenly blurted a high-pitched shriek. “My ears are too young to hear something so seductive! No, please, not from my lascivious junior!”

“You’re being weird, Miyami-senpai.”

“It’s you, my young man. Who wouldn't want to seduce a beautiful little sister, hmm?"

“Me.”

The answer came swiftly.

I'm not a part of a bad anime premise. While I read as much manga and light novels as Miyami-senpai was, I do not intend to dignify every little urge like those 2D characters do tolerate. Putting my life into compromise is the last thing I aspire to do.

I looked up, tired of the cornering.

"Besides, I’d never call a woman beautiful unless she’s more beautiful than you, Miyami-senpai.”

Her shoulders recoiled.

It wasn’t flattery. It's more like throwing back her weapon at her. But instead of silencing her, all it did was to sharpen her smirk even more.

“Oh? So you finally see me as a woman, huh? Took you long enough."

"Why are you suddenly romanticizing my teasing?"

“You talk to people as rare as Halley's comet.”

“And so?”

“And to compliment them, especially me…” she pointed at herself dramatically, as if she was on stage. “It moves my heart~”

"You're just a baseline, senpai. Nothing more."

Her shoulders recoiled dramatically.

"Ouch. A…a b-baseline? I pour out my overflowing maiden's heart, and you reduce me to a...unit of measurement?"

"Baseline is important. Without it, you wouldn't know if someone's above average or not."

Hearing that, she burst out laughing, and slapped my shoulder hard and loud enough to make the old man buying the newspaper look our way.

"Gosh, you're so awful! Good thing you're charming despite being a typical loser so I'll take it as a compliment!"

We continued bickering over our contrasting attitudes while backstabbing customers in the process.

From the perspective of others, I might seem that I’m a playboy or someone who spends free time at red light districts, simply because I’m comfortable around Miyami-senpai. That assumption is only half-wrong.

The truth is, if you compared me now to myself two years ago, the difference would be night and day. Back then, fresh out of the scandal, thrown into this workplace as a trainee, I could barely look a woman in the eye. My voice locked up, my palms sweated, and every smile directed at me felt like a hidden trap.

Gynophobia—that’s what the textbooks would call it. I wouldn’t go as far as to diagnose myself, but the symptoms fit too neatly. After Asahina-san, I convinced myself women were cunning creatures with no sense of empathy, heartless enough to twist a single mistake into a weapon that could destroy someone’s life.

It’s rude to generalize, see. It’s rude to treat every laugh as mockery, every kindness as bait. But above all, it’s such an anomaly to say that Miyami-senpai is an exception.

She’s a teaser, sure, slaps my shoulder, laughs at my mistakes and always makes lewd remarks on things, but that’s her true self. She’s a ball of mischief, and as much as it unsettled me at first, I think that’s the reason I can stand here now, tossing jokes back at her as if I’m normal.

Two years are enough for me to get used to her personality and become comfortable around her. So when I realized that I've developed this soft spot for her (and perhaps deeper), I couldn't shake it.

But I'm still glad for that subordinate treatment that made our friendship irreplaceable.

It gave me someone I never thought I'd befriend, so I wouldn't risk losing her.

Miyami-senpai was still rambling words when the chime at the entrance rang.

There came an elderly woman shuffling in, and even though the basket was half-empty, it trembled in her hands.

I left the register without thinking. I've seen people way weaker than her in the time I've been in this store, and the worst case, collapsing under the weight of a carton of milk.

"I'll carry it for you, Ma'am." I said, taking the basket from her gently.

"Thank you, young one."

A smile of gratitude bloomed on her wrinkled face. It may seem a little silly but this feeling is rather comforting, making me feel I've done something worthwhile, however small.

I scanned each of her groceries with practiced ease, walked her to the automatic doors and called her a cab.

When I returned to the register, Miyami-senpai was leaning on the counter, chin in her hands, smirking firmly in place.

“You’re way too kind, Kaede-kun. With that personality of yours, living with a beautiful girl under the same roof must be like heaven."

"Consider my life in hell."

She ignored my denial.

"I wouldn’t be surprised if you quit this job soon. After all, why waste time working here when you could spend your days being lovey-dovey with your little sister.”

Thus the reason I called her the greatest pest of my life.

I placed a pack of cigarettes on the counter. For a second, I wished they were mine—all because I heard people talking about cigarettes to make their days blur before. One even said that it’s like hitting the “skip” button on the sunrise, thus ending their inevitable daily predicaments.

However, I’m underage and it's just a customer's requested item.

“I have no intention of thinking of her that way,” I said flatly. “I can’t even approach her. And I have these questions in my head like ‘How should I act around her?’, ‘Am I enough to be a good brother?’ It's easy to have a guess when she's just another person. But she's not, not after…everything.”

Her eyes narrowed into thin slits.

“Everything? What do you mean, bad history?”

The words lodged in my throat.

But before I could decide whether to spit them out or swallow them back down, the chime at the entrance rang again. It's a wave of customers, from salarymen to students from late night-outs, and they started grabbing things with a flurry of questions.

The line formed fast.

With a sigh, I started straightening my uniform and turned to the first customer with a flawless smile.

But the real face was hidden behind the beep of the scanner.

"Tell me later, okay?" Miyami-senpai whispered.

Probably. If I still had energy left for a lengthy conversation, that is.