Asahikawa was on the verge of a severe downpouring economical crisis. Alien activity on Earth was exceeding abnormal capacity and more humans were laid off of their laborious jobs. With more individuals moving to Aries, Earth was visioned as nothing more than a nesting ground for the incapable and weak-hearted whose talent failed to rise in the business world. As a result of the collapse of the economy across Japan, immutable riots and unstoppable protests clashed with the opinions and ideas of the Japanese government. Those seeking freedom with their voices were censored and blotted by the government; the alternative path to peace was Aries.
In response to the ongoing hysteria and paranoia across Asahikawa, Mayor Masato Konomachi temporarily banned aliens from roaming the streets to protect them. Loyal civilians who dedicated their heartfelt effort to feed their families day and night saw this as a failed method to ameliorate the economic panic. To combat the censored civilians, the Japanese government signed a bill with Aries, sending police agencies and SWAT teams to bolster defenses across Earth. Their supportive rapports settled down alien mass hysteria, as humans soon knew what their words and actions would consequent towards.
Amid a lazy afternoon in Asahikawa, a crisp mellow circle basked its civilians with a harmonious sunset's light to signal the day's inevitable end. Bustling crowded city streets with city folk, families, and groups of businessmen clashed with one another near the city's bridges and harbors. The salty aroma that arose from the depths of the ocean tinged their nostrils as they breezed past the vivacious landscape. The light's reflective properties glimmered against the seascapes. The pungent and putrid scent of lingering litter and garbage brushed against the breeze, contrasting with the welcoming scented nature of the city.
An obsequious peasant was tossed into a darkness blanketed alleyway by two tattoo-heavy burly hoodlums. One of the hoodlums snatched the peasant's tattered and ragged collar with their massive hands and slammed him against the graffiti-riddled brick walls. Bills and receipts etched with monetary symbols and currencies were tossed and slapped against the culpable peasant's bruised cheeks as he covered his mucky face with his bumpy and wrinkled hands.
"There you are, you bitch," The hoodlum's inimical raspy and coarse voice threatened the peasant with the utmost impertinence. "Where the fuck's our money, huh? Pay the fuck up!"
"I-I... I spent it on food... I had to..." The quivering peasant shivered for mercy, covering his eyes in bone-chilling fear.
"Then sell yourself," The second hoodlum's sinister words stirred up fear into the peasant's heart. "We're always in a mood to get a little freaky and creative if you know what I mean."
"I-I'm sorry! P-please, give me more time!" The peasant's faltering voice was rescinded of courage and pride, leaving only guilt and mercy for his life.
The hoodlum firmly clasping the peasant's collar dropped him to the ground. He unsheathed a sharpened white steel knife from his belt pouch, licking the blade and delighting in its beauty. "Maybe we'll have to cut open that fucking stomach of yours to get the food out. Or, I think the ring finger will do nicely!" His avaricious attitude and voice threatened and chastised the peasant while he placed pressure on the man's left hand for a quick slice. "The boss will love you. Last fucking chance to pay up-"
A mossy brick slab struck the knife-wielding hoodlum's ear at lightning speed, knocking him unconscious in a split second. His body slumped backward and laid on the alleyway's entrance without another word uttered. The second hoodlum spun cautiously towards the darkened alleyway, unsheathing another knife and flicking it in a state of paranoia to thwart the unknown within the darkness. "Who the fuck's there?" His voice faltered cautiously as sweat poured down his tattooed forehead. "Stay the fuck back!" The cowardly peasant sprawled towards the alleyway's entrance and curled up in a fetal position away from the action.
The clacking crisp reverberation of leather boots echoed through the darkness. The hoodlum froze and maintained his position, flicking his knife once more. The sunset's shimmering light basked upon an intrepid young man standing and approximately five feet and eleven inches with dark-circles underneath his thin hazelnut pupils. His slender stature partially leaned forward with his shoulders rolling carelessly in the breeze, and his delicate fingers seeped into his white hoodie's pockets. The dual-linking chains on his tight black pants rattled with each quaking step he performed. His jet-black feathery hair parted in the middle of his seamless glistening forehead as he swiped his head to the side to brush it aside. His brows parted back as he maintained a threatening scowl, advancing towards the hoodlum with the intent to strike back.
"Who the fuck are you?!" The hoodlum cried, stabbing the air to push the unknown man aside. His muscles were shaking in a fearful aura. "Stay away, I said! I'm fucking warning you!"
Without a change in facial expression, the unknown man rampaged forward and snatched the knife from the hoodlum's grasp. He held it up against the hoodlum's neck, threatening his survival with its shining edge.
"P-please! I'm sorry! Don't hurt me!" The hoodlum squealed as he quivered back into the sunset's warm light. Without another word, he sprinted off into the streets without recovering his comrade.
The curled-up peasant watched as the man tossed the knife into the darkened alleyway. He stepped forward and faced his wrinkled face with a cryptic, yet calming gaze. "Leave this city," His silvery deep voice echoed in the confined space with powerful bass resonating with his tone. "If you don't, they'll never stop coming after you."
"T-thank you, sir! I owe you my life!" The peasant placed both of his palms against the damp and sweat-moisturized concrete before taking off into the streets away from harm.
The man exhaled and sighed in relief, keeping his collective nature before leaning against the entrance of the alleyway. The back of his head gently touched against the warmly-soaked brick walls. Heat surged through his head as he casually laid back in harmony. He revealed his Yoshimura motorcycle gloved left hand to the glistening sky, tearing the velcro off in preparation to adjust it.
The purring and satisfying engine of a sporty premium motorcycle stormed through the curbside of the alleyway. From the corner of the unknown man's slender eyes, he witnessed an empress mounted and rumbled upon an iron-clad seat. The twin-exhausted black and silver trimmed motorcycle's engine powered off after the unknown female figure twisted her key. The motorcycle's citrine-colored holographic interface that contained the rider's miles traveled, current speed, and fuel levels powered off to a halt. In her right hand, the same Yoshimura branded motorcycle glove that the unknown man wore was tight against her glistening skin.
The elegant female's leather bomber jacket and her carbon-fibered sleek motorcycle leggings added an aesthetic, pleasant, and bodacious curvature to her upper and lower body. She gently removed her cat-themed motorcycle helmet and placed it on her iron-clad seat, stepping out with her high-heeled clacking boots tapping against the concrete pavement. Her slender brown eyes rolled themselves with superiority once they had met with the man.
"You've grown soft," The petite female opinionated; she exaggeratingly flipped her charcoal-colored princess ponytail-styled hair with the back of her hand with a smug and careless expression. Her elongated hair gently swayed in the soothing breeze as she approached the man in a cocky and complacent manner. "It's been six months since we've seen each other. You're always full of surprises, aren't you?"
"What do you want, Sumire?" The man casually disregarded the woman named Sumire as he carelessly minded his own business. He ran his eyes across Asahikawa's streets to admire the indefinite beauty. "And how did you find me?"
"Well, if you factor in my occasional traveling, you'll find that I'm quite observant when it comes to action in the city," Sumire edged closer to the man with a passive grimace. "And as your cousin, I know more than you ever would. Word spreads around quickly, especially in the Nakai family. They're still asking for you after all these nine long years, Ryo. Why don't you do yourself a favor and head back home?"
"Nine years, huh..." Ryo Nakai, the twenty-one-year-old transformed man muttered in response to Sumire's request. "Has it been nine years?" He asked, facing up to observe the cumulonimbus clouds shrouding the orange-hued sky.
Sumire leaned back, against the sun-paved wall with him. She pleasantly grinned at Ryo's height difference with hers; she stood at approximately five feet and two inches. "Hard to believe, huh?" She agreed. "It feels like it was yesterday when we went out to eat at that new gyoza restaurant. You were so hungry that I felt bad for walking the distance."
"Why are you here, Sumire?" Ryo cut to the chase. "Six months is a long time. Why now?"
"I was busy with some work," Sumire gently pushed herself forward, placing her hands on her hips. "I don't have all the free time in the world, you know. I wanted to see you just to check how the counseling's doing. Those funds are coming from me, after all..."
Ryo sighed deeply. "We're doing fine. But... there are some things that I haven't shared with him. Ever since I started, I've been holding back telling him about what happened that day."
"Why don't you tell him? Or... why don't you tell me, for that matter?" Sumire asked.
"It's really painful. You wouldn't understand." Ryo shook his head, uninterested to continue their conversation.
"Wouldn't understand, huh..." Sumire pushed herself off of the brick wall, leaning on her iron-clad motorcycle seat. Her thin mouth slanted sideways in dissatisfaction. "Then... if I told you something secret about me, would you tell me about what happened?
"Don't do that," Ryo said, not wanting to take a bribe as simple as that. "I don't want you involved. Just go home."
"I can't do that," Sumire denied his austere response, softly touching Ryo's hand with both of hers. She revealed her Yoshimura branded motorcycle glove and juxtaposed it with his. They were part of the pair, only separated. "When we met for the first time a few years ago, I gave you this glove, and we promised that we'd talk about our problems together. You promised we'd see it through. Why can't you fulfill that now?"
"Why are you so invested in my life now, of all times?" Ryo swiped away Sumire's gentle grasp away. "You were always such a tough girl who never wanted to share anything. Yet you're acting like my doctor right now. Why?"
"I've got my reasons," Sumire disappointingly brushed off, and moved to her motorcycle's seat. She grasped her cat-themed helmet and regretfully looked away. "Unlike most of the people in your life, I give a shit about you, Ryo. I'll leave you alone now."
"Wait," Ryo caved from her purposeful guilt trip. He gently stroked the surface of this motorcycle glove while remembering their promise. "Okay. Let's talk."
Sumire scoffed as she put on her cat-themed helmet and revved the cycle's engine up. "That's more like it. Come on, let's head to my place. We can talk there." She suggested.
Ryo approached Sumire's Yoshimura motorcycle, gently seating behind the iron-clad mount and feeling the cushiony edges of its full-grain leather exterior. With this being the first time he had ever experienced being in the passenger seat of a high-quality Japanese motorcycle, Ryo had fearful visions of him accidentally falling off.
It was only natural for Ryo to feel this way; it had been nine terrifyingly lonely years surviving on the streets of Asahikawa, living like a hermit crab. Food and water were scarce; luckily. Ryo was fortunate enough to have Sumire supporting him with her joint and mutual funds. Sumire's wealth was a mystery from the beginning. Six months ago, she restively and occasionally visited Ryo daily to bring him food while spending time with him, ensuring he wasn't isolated on his own. Often, Ryo would come to deeply respect and admire Sumire's cryptic tenacity for spending time with the husk of an abusive man who had lost all sense of hope for the future.
But why would she, Ryo pondered. It was only a matter of time before she understood the truth, and their relationship would become ephemeral.
Sumire zoomed through the highways in the sunset vistas, letting the grand turbulence from the gust of windblast against their faces. Ryo clutched onto Sumire's waist tightly as cars drove at moderate speed. While holding on, he gently shut his eyes and placed his shuddering cheek against her back. He began reflecting upon the pain and agony he must have inflicted upon Ash Meguro and her family. For nine agonizing years, he had spent countless days and nights wishing he could be guileless and free from his excruciating ordeal of Ash's virtuous gaze. With agonizing moments comes the grace period, where he identified as his doctor and Sumire arriving into play like chess pieces defending him. And Sumire was the quintessence of sanity for him, which was unconsciously praised under Ryo's deceived mind.
Was there ever going to be a time where he wasn't the pleading for guidance like the princess, but the rescuing knight instead?
"Are you okay back there?" Sumire asked at her response to Ryo's trembling and wandering behavior. "You're shaking quite a bit."
"No, nothing's wrong. Just... thinking a lot about these past few years and how you've helped me." Ryo expressed honesty for her magnanimous spirit.
"You can say that again," Sumire humorously quipped. "Just take care of yourself and maybe I won't have to do it for you."
With Sumire's townhouse destination almost concluded, Ryo attempted to funnel the guilty memories out of his mind by imagining his independence. Throughout his childhood, Ryo's narrow scope of mind was a hindrance to him that weighed his spirit down with ineptitude. With the sunset finally commencing its darkened finale to midnight, all Ryo could do was persuade himself that he was free.
***
Located in a natural forest-like residence, Sumire's townhouse was three stories tall with an unusual perception of design attributed to its exterior; tinted brazen windows, industrious solar panels, and blooming flora situated outside to grant her home a unique aesthetic taste. Multiple balconies filled with black rustic furniture decked the outdoors, and the scent of trimmed grass became a refreshingly new odor for Ryo. In a royal setting like Sumire's, Ryo labeled himself as a poor aberration that couldn't match the grandness of Sumire's townhouse; his pungent body odor and unshaved facial hair made him appear grouchy and peasant-like.
"Welcome, welcome. Guess this is your first time here too, huh? Sure as hell beats chilling in those alleyways we always used to hang out in." Sumire said with a practical tone.
Ryo was silent as she parked her vehicle in her garage, where her meticulous collection of Japanese and American artifacts. Ryo thoroughly examined her foreign collection after Sumire powered off her motorcycle's engine. Framed old century coins and statues of worshipped deities in the early 18th century were prominent throughout her collection. Perhaps the most intriguing out of the collection was a massive golden embossed statue of a Japanese woman with her hair tied into a royal bun. It adorned a golden kimono with sleeves elongated past her hands. The statue piqued Ryo's interest, forcing him to take a closer look.
"That's Natsu Higuchi," Sumire identified, removing her cat-themed helmet and flipping her ponytail behind her shoulders. "She was one of the most prodigious writers in the Meiji period. She called herself Ichiyo because of her pen name. Whenever I look at her, I feel enlightened at the sight of such an amazing and talented woman. Makes me wish I was one myself." She sighed.
"You needn't worry about that," Ryo indicated with a stern voice. "You are who you are. Don't need to compare yourself to someone as grand as her."
"True," Sumire scoffed and gestured for Ryo to follow into her townhouse. "But most people wouldn't think so."
The sheen from the light reflecting upon vintage wooden flooring made it seem Ryo was sliding on ice. He was greeted with an amalgamation of different marvels from Sumire's townhouse when he treaded up the carpeted steps. A breathtaking view of the open vista of Asahikawa's sunset flashed before Ryo's eyes through her roof and windows, exposed through its translucent tinted glass. In her kitchen, a royal dark-wooden dining table filled with fresh organic fruit perched itself in between her sensor-driven automatic sink and her vintage-themed living room. The walls were charcoal-colored, which complimented the auburn-colored painting frames lined up against the wall facing her. A fifty-five-inch wall-mounted television and an old-school record player was her set up for an entertainment setting.
Sumire undressed her tight black bomber jacket, revealing a sky-blue strapped tank top. She tossed it on her glass coffee table before stretching her arms by leaning side to side. "Before we talk... maybe you should take a shower," Sumire suggested, smirking at Ryo. She began wiping her sweat-glistened forehead with a napkin and deposited it into her sensor-activated garbage can. "Bathroom's over there," She informed him while pointing at an ivory-colored door decorated with a playful cursive wooden sign. "You smell like shit. Drop your clothes outside and I'll wash them for you."
Such hospitality from his cousin loosened Ryo's mind and muscles at ease. "Thanks," Ryo said before stepping inside the bathroom. He inhaled the aroma of orchids and lavender, seeing a neatly organized sink with several make-up products lined up near the mirror. He glanced at himself and immediately turned away. The slightest peek of his face perplexed his mind, as every time he did, he felt separated from his own body from the facial hair. The oddity arising from his mind was his adolescent nature separated and transferred into an adult's body. He shook his head to ignore it all as he removed and tossed his clothes outside of the bathroom door. Sumire's shower powered on through a waterproof touchscreen panel, where Ryo could adjust the temperature and water speed to his liking. In a finishing selection, the shower powered on and Ryo indulged himself in a pleasurable shower among the likes he had never witness in quite a while.
The heated steam filled up the bathroom phenomenally quickly as Ryo felt incredibly comfortable. Water splashed against his mucky and dirt-ridden skin. Ryo wrapped his hands around his neck and stroked them down to cleanse it. Grabbing an electric shaver docked near the showerhead, he carefully removed his facial hair stubble and splashed shampoo over his musty hair before dousing it off with his light hands. As he caught the grime flowing into the shower drain, his breathing rate increased as he suddenly remembered showering back in his original home. Such a feeling of comfortability would never be obtained again independently. He sighed before scrubbing behind him, missing the memories of his family.
Yet he knew they would not welcome him back for his terrifying attitude and complexion. His family wasn't so willing and accepting all the time. Ryo feared he would be an outcast forever.
Ryo turned around with his eyes peaked with water. He opened his eyes wide open to wipe it off when he noticed an extreme oddity that seized his heart. His softened muscles tensed up and his skin froze in a blanket of cold dense ice. Ash Meguro's bloodied head replaced Sumire's showerhead, attached to the back of the system. Blood substituted the steaming waters as it poured out of her mouth at rapid speed.
Ryo blinked to wipe the memory away. He yelped in distress, dropping his shaver, and collided with the back of the bathtub. He fearfully gulped saliva before noticing that it had reverted to an ordinary showerhead with water running out. "Fuck. Oh, fuck…" Ryo whispered before resting his head against the back of the room. He just couldn't forget his traumatizing peaks, even after resting in a peaceful area like Sumire's house.
He gasped for air after turning off the shower faucet, noticing that a fresh set of gym clothes that Sumire's friend used to wear laid upon a fuzzy pink rug. He stepped out, dried himself, and changed into the gym clothes before stepping out of the bathroom with his bloodshot eyes. Sumire was stretching in front of the television screen, mimicking another instructor on the screen. She noticed Ryo freshened up and ended her routine by turning off the television.
"Hey, you don't look so bad. You shaved, I see. How does it feel to be clean for once?" Sumire cheerfully asked, glancing at Ryo's refreshed appearance. "Alright, looks like it's gonna be nighttime soon. Check this out," Sumire retrieved her high-tech smartphone to access a home improvement application linked to her townhouse. By tapping on a white button on her phone labeled "Windows," the translucent panels shading the sunset view activated and rotated themselves inwards to blot all of the sunlight. "Isn't that cool?"
"Yeah. Pretty cool, I guess." Ryo shrugged off, seating on her vintage leather sofa. Instead of kicking back and relaxing like a special guest at a party, Ryo sat cross-legged without touching his feet on the wooden floor. He didn't want to seem discourteous or disrespectful to his cousin regardless of whether or not they were family.
"Hey, lighten up," Sumire persuaded, grinning sweetly at Ryo with a colorful face. Her eyebrows raised themselves as she joined him on the couch, clasping her hands tightly and funneling them underneath her waist. Ryo observed her as she nervously swayed from side to side. "I guess I can go straight into what I wanted to talk to you about." She leaned her head side to side as well, letting her ponytail sway.
"What?" Ryo asked.
"In these nine years, I wanted you to know how I felt about me taking care of you," Sumire said. "But I just don't think this is the right thing for you right now. I think it's best if you go back home and stop running away all the time. I think it's a perfect time for you to also apologize to Ash-"
Ryo slammed his foot against the wooden floor to stop Sumire from speaking any further. "Don't say her name," He coldly said. "What I do is none of your business. And the reason why my family sent you to take care of me is that they couldn't bother to try and fix their child. I was trapped for so long and they never thought about even seeing me."
"Don't blame your parents for this. You're the one who ran away," Sumire made clear. "You're the one who has to take responsibility."
Ryo shook his head. "You don't understand," He said. "I do blame them."
Sumire's mouth opened at Ryo's incomprehensible logic. "They didn't do anything wrong. What are you talking about?" She asked.
Ryo nearly ruptured his throat as he violently assaulted Sumire with his words. "I blame them because they gave birth to me, okay? If they never did, then I wouldn't have started this shit. I would never have hurt her... and I wouldn't have joined a gang for that matter. And as for Sezan, he's the one to blame too. He made me who I am because I had nowhere to go after leaving home. No one accepted me except the gang. I had no choice but to shelter there from my shame."
Sumire denied his antics. "You can't blame anyone but yourself, Ryo. Not your parents, and not Sezan or his gang. Neither were the aliens that came to Earth. That's the thing too with the aliens. You don't hate them, but you were brainwashed into thinking you did. You were played for an idiot, all because you had no idea how to think logically."
Ryo couldn't believe what Sumire was hearing. All of this information that she had stated on this particular day was never revealed prior to this meeting. It was as if he was hit by a reality check after being locked up in the Yakuza for years. "Why do you care about anything involved with me?" He asked. "Why did you visit me every week for nine years? What, because you thought you could fix me? Because everything can be solved if I just come home and you're just trying to tell me that?"
Sumire slapped the couch she sat on with her palm. "Because I had nothing else too!" She confessed. "What, you think you're the only one that's suffering? Why do you think I came to you, brought you food, and spent time with you on the streets? Because I knew that you could fix it yourself, Ryo. And I was lonely too. I smiled every day for you because I wanted you to smile. You frown, and you frown, and you frown, all for what? For one mistake? You fucked up. Can't you just deal with it? After nine years, don't you have the decency or the balls to fight back or be honest with yourself?"
"Don't try to make shit up," Ryo annoyingly said. "Don't try to tell me you were lonely and suffering. You don't know how it feels to suffer for years, dragging on your life and contemplating your existence. If I face them, what's the difference? I'll still be a fucking mess."
Sumire chuckled, faking a smile that Ryo knew was feigned. She shook her head and glanced at the wooden floor with a sarcastic dull expression in her eyes. "I don't know how it feels to suffer for years," She quoted Ryo's previous statement. "Were you even listening when I opened up to you about my family? Did you even care? Do you even remember what I said?"
"You want the truth?" Ryo said as he bit his bottom lip. "I don't care. I really could fucking care less. I don't listen to you and I never wanted to. Whenever I see you, I'm disgusted because I know you're about to start shit with me and tell me how to live my life. I've lived my life for twenty-one years, and I've been suffering day and night. Do you think your words are going to change me? What kind of person do you think you are, telling me what to do?"
Sumire sighed in disbelief before standing up and facing away from Ryo. "You are an absolute fucking narcissist, you know that?" She turned around with her eyes wettened with the pain in her heart. "And this entire time, I thought you really cared about me. Is there really any point to even continue visiting you anymore? If you're not going to change and fix yourself, what can I do? I'm just a useless piece of shit, just like my father said before he used me over and over again."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Ryo was puzzled.
Sumire blasted Ryo's ignorance in the past. "Don't make me repeat myself again!" She cried, tossing herself to the floor. "I said it to you and I'm not going to say it again. Every time I think about it, it hurts. Mom and I... we didn't deserve any of this. But it happened. And look at me. I think I've moved on too, but I really haven't. But I had this sliver of hope thinking I could change you and make you happy like I wanted to be. And now... you're blaming me too for failing. Everyone just blames me for every... fucking... thing. It's absolute torture..."
Ryo bolted up from his seat, dusting his jeans with his roughened hands. He made way for the stairs, believing that following Sumire was a total mistake. "This is a waste of time. Goodbye, Sumire." He said.
"Ichijo, Hina... he's running away again," Sumire sobbed hopelessly to herself while glancing her head at the glass ceiling. "I'm sorry. I failed. I don't deserve to be his sister."
Ryo froze as he felt his heart skip a beat. His eyes opened widely as he turned around at Sumire's docile state. After hearing her last sentence, Ryo wanted to hear it again for clarity. "What did you just say?" He asked.
Sumire's eyes traced themselves towards Ryo's shocked face. Her tears blurred and blemished her face with rosy redness. Her voice was breathy and low. "That's right, I never told you..."
"Sister?" Ryo raced towards Sumire and stood in front of her, gazing angrily at her docile face. "Don't fuck with me. Why did you call yourself my sister? Don't tell me you're-"
"Adopted..." Sumire's eyebrows drooped as she peered into her past. After a split second of reminiscing it, she turned her focus back to Ryo with her voice remaining in a low whisper. "What's wrong, Ryo? Afraid to hurt your sister? Afraid to hurt the last of your family that you have?"
Ryo couldn't believe what he was hearing. All of this was occurring behind his head, and yet Sumire remained passionate and resilient when it came to spending time with him. His bug-eyed view was met with confusion as he rebelled with his younger self. His legs faltered and shook in uncertainty, and his heart pounded with even more regret for the past after ignoring her for nine years. It ruptured the unprecedented trauma of his childhood. "You're... You're lying! You're fucking lying!" He yelled.
"What's wrong?" Sumire switched into a more aggressive state, standing up from her kneeling position as she controlled her anger. "You're feeling regret for not listening to me, are you? Am I just another one of your traumatic memories now? Now I gave you a reason to care, didn't I? And now you care? What's it going to take, Ryo? What's it going to take before you start giving a shit about your life?"
"No..." Ryo placed his hands over his head as his mind began to throb in pain. "I didn't know. I didn't want this. How was I supposed to know? You never told me."
"Why should I?" Sumire asked in shame. "You never listened to me, and you confirmed that just now. What difference would it have made? You just confirmed I was talking to a brick wall. Someone who cares so much about you... now it makes sense, doesn't it? Now you wish you had listened to me, huh?"
Ryo had just another chance at redemption for his past. He glared at his palms endlessly, believing that he was only born to destroy and ruin people who were kind. He ruined Ash, Sophie, his family, and now his sister. The information struck his heart like lightning. His infallible behavior was something he couldn't tolerate. For nine years, after roaming endlessly in the Yakuza to escape his past, he hadn't learned a single thing except how to repress regret and reformation. He could not stop looking endlessly at his hands, for his silence was mocked with bitter criticism.
"Look at your face," Sumire identified. "It was exactly like mine. You do feel something other than regret, don't you?" She grabbed Ryo's palms and pulled them down as she bitterly gazed into Ryo's bewildered and dumbfounded trance. "You can fix it, Ryo. Enough. You thought you could find yourself without your family's help and you failed. It is no one's fault but yours. But this doesn't mean it's the end. Fix the damn thing. Go back and make amends to everyone you hurt. Then you'll be able to find peace and move on," Her eyes traced to her feet, glancing away in sudden disappointment. "At least you can go back. I can't. Not to my old family."
"Why?" Ryo's sudden realization of Sumire, his friend for nine years becoming his sister, had transformed his ignorance into trying to change his mindset about others. He had never given others the chance to express themselves because he truly was narcissistic about his past and present.
"Let's just drop it, okay?" Sumire refused. "This is about you, not me. Just go back and tell them the truth. If you can't do it now, then muster up the strength later. You can hang out with me for the time being and I'm sure you'll feel the right time to do it."
Ryo was astonished at her response, believing that his disservice of ignorance for nine years would have caused her to stray away. "What do you mean? You still want to be with me after this entire time? I'm the one who pushed you away and didn't care about you. But... you're my family. And I've always wanted someone to take care of and look up to."
Sumire smiled lightly. "I believe in second chances, Ryo," She confessed. "Just never go back to that old life again, no matter what tries to drag you in. You can build a life of your own if you just let go of your guilt. Build towards it. You don't have to start now. Will you start listening to me now?"
Ryo was stunned at her response. But even then, he truly did want to start changing himself to gather the strength to do the impossible. "I... I don't know. I really don't know." He admitted.
"Then let me ask you this," Sumire gazed into him with a blank stare. "How you feel... if I suddenly died, Ryo? Does the thought of me dying make you sad? Does the thought of my voice not being heard hurt you, Ryo? All those chances I was given to speak were all shot down. If I died, would anyone really care? Would you? Did you feel differently... just because I'm your sister?"
Death. The idea of it confounded Ryo's brain. If someone were to die, then he knew it would be impossible to see or speak to them again. With all of the ignorance piled up from the past nine years, if Sumire were to die, then it would be impossible to tell her how much Ryo regretted not spending time with her. But, did this all just happen because Sumire confessed that she was his sister? His thoughts crushed and nearly tore his heart apart, believing that if she was lost, he would lose the opportunity to be a brother with a loving sister that cared for him for nine years as evidence of her affection.
"Do you care, or not?" Sumire asked.
"I... I don't know," Ryo said.
Sumire froze for a few seconds before turning around and dropping her resolve.
"But... I would like to," Ryo admitted, sensing a change of heart within his system. Sumire turned back around to him with dilated pupils and her mouth open in amazement for Ryo's interference between them. "When you told me about yourself in the past, I didn't listen because I didn't care. I just told myself that so I could prevent you from getting close to me. Because... you know who I am. If I even tried to be with you, I couldn't take care of you. But now you've given me the opportunity to. So... as I said, I'd like to, if you don't mind."
Sumire's somber face lit up with a gleaming and joyful smile. Her eyes watered uncontrollably as she leaped into Ryo's arms, savoring the warmth of her new brother. She had known for nine years that he was her brother, but when courage and light reinvigorated his spirit, she had the resurrected passion to savor their time together. For him to grow was all she wanted.
"I... I'll help you, no matter what," Sumire said while embracing Ryo. "I've done it before. No point in stopping now... right?"
Ryo stumbled and stuttered his words. He wasn't used to having affection poured onto him out of pure spite and ignorance from the past. He envisioned that this would be the moment he apologized to Ash and the others, believing that he could create the relationships and bonds that he longed for before giving into Sezan's demands. Even so, Sumire was right. Ryo could only blame himself for his mistakes and his poor hasty judgments as a child. He believed in redemption, and he sought it to want to be better.
"I'm sorry for ignoring you. You are part of my life. I just haven't seen it yet," Ryo genuinely apologized for his wrongdoings. "She has to be out there somewhere, I know it," Ryo referenced to Ash as he gently stroked Sumire's black hair. "When I find her, I'll make things right."
"I understand," Sumire respectfully admired his tenacity and commitment to his apology goal. However, it was something she didn't want her brother to stray towards for his life goals, as contrition tends to expunge a person's heart within. In the end, Sumire sought absolute success in the future. Ryo's reticent attitude seemingly dispelled itself with their revelations and secrets revealed. As a result of his arising inspirational behavior, Sumire wished to do much more than just be a supporting sibling. "I'm... proud of you, Ryo," She detached from Ryo and spun around, heading towards her room. "Stay here. I bought you this present a few days ago and I wanted to give it to you for your birthday."
Ryo stood still, pleased that someone even bothered giving someone as messy and hopeless as him a present. Still, his spirits were lifted when Sumire returned with a dark violet small box with a white striped logo on top. She opened it carefully and revealed its contents to Ryo.
"Here," Sumire spun around and snatched an ivory white smartphone composited out of glass and aluminum material. "I wanted to give you this gift to call you when you were still part of the Yakuza. But now that I know you quit, I feel like we can talk more freely now. Use it to text or call me any time you need me, okay? Just think of it as a celebration for being my brother. My true brother."
"Wow," Ryo slid his fingers through the slippery glass design on the back of the ivory smartphone. He carefully powered it on and caught a glimpse of Sumire's contact information already inside its contacts list. He marveled restlessly at his gift and Sumire's warmhearted generosity. Her actions galvanized Ryo into action, hoping to do the same for Sumire; to protect and cherish her company. "Thank you, Sumire." He politely shared.
"Yeah... you owe me later," She sarcastically said, drying her tears with her slim arms. She stretched her body by leaning forward and backward to brush away her previous sadness. "I think your clothes are all dried up. Get changed. We're going to a place that you might like. Think of it as a celebration for our reunion."
Ryo gently smiled. "I've never seen you so happy before." He said.
"Don't get used to it," Sumire rolled her eyes as she flipped her hair back in a smug manner. She secured her hairpin to form a princess side-swept ponytail once again. Before she entered her laundry room, she spun around with her hands hovering shyly behind her tailbone. Her cheeks blemished as she compassionately smiled. "No matter what happens, if you ever need help, call or text me, okay? Because I lived my entire life thinking no one loved me. My father and mother were those primary agents. But now that you're here, I feel like a million bucks."
With a portion of his future secured, Ryo's mind adjusted to his conflicting past and started waning away little by little. Although his trauma would never lift itself anytime soon, Ryo's elicit emotions with Sumire as his sister transfigured his appearance and reflection upon his personal life. In the past, having a brother was one of the most prominent desires he had ever asked for, but all he received was malice and cynicism. But now that he had a true sibling, one that respected his decisions without the intent to manipulate, Ryo had his conscience cleared for once in a very long time.