Since the day looking into people's eyes began to burn, the Miyashita Marou that others adored disappeared, leaving behind the me that exists now—a shell of who I was. Having relied on the ability to read people to perfection, I couldn't adapt to the sudden complexity of emotion and interaction. It became impossible to know anything about anyone for certain, so how was I sure that I wouldn't hurt anyone? What if I said something wrong? My fear of messing up and losing everything pulled me away from everyone. For a while, the only person I spoke to was my sister. Not because I understood her—quite the opposite really—but because I didn't mind if we had misunderstandings, since she'd always try to clear things up without making a huge scene about it. Like a mediator… but for herself. She constantly put in the effort to be as straightforward as possible, leaving almost nothing to interpretation. People often found fault in her for being so curt, but I appreciated her honesty.
***
"What's with the long face? Long day?" My sister smirked as she struck my shoulder with a punch. She wasn't a stranger to committing acts of violence with her hands… "Trouble with your girlfriend?" …or her words.
"I don't have a girlfriend."
"You don't have to keep it a secret from your dear old sister."
"I don't have a girlfriend."
She sighed, "You and I aren't getting any younger, Marou! I can't watch over my sweet lonely little brother forever, y'know. I need to make sure he's got a good girl to look over him when I'm gone."
I knocked on the wooden backboard of her bed, "Don't say things like that."
"I can't help it! When I was your age, I was already onto my fourth boyfriend!"
"Is that really something to be bragging about? And that was five years ago, don't make it sound like ancient history."
"What can I say? Your sister is one hell of a playgirl."
"I'm surprised Naoyama puts up with you."
"I'll have you know Mii-kun loves me very much."
My sister's boyfriend of five years, Naoyama Minoru, is the lead vocalist of his freelance band, RGB. When he was up and in front of a crowd, he was without a doubt the person that shined the brightest on stage. My sister would always have me in tow whenever she went to his concerts, and the glow in his eyes hurt more than the strobe lights that blasted the audience in the eyes every so often. Interestingly though, offstage he had a rather relaxed disposition. I wouldn't go as far as call him shy or introverted, but he definitely mellowed out around his friends. His nickname, 'Mii-kun' was made and used exclusively by my sister, named after a character in a show she watched as a kid. Naoyama appreciated the endearing nickname, though he admitted that he felt it didn't really suit him. She disagreed, describing the way he acted akin to a puppy—bright and excited around lots of people but wanting love and affection from their "owner." Their dynamic was fascinating. It got dangerously close to "master" and "pet" territory at times, but she respected his boundaries where he put them.
I cleared my throat. "...Despite all your problems."
"Thanks to all my quirks." She glared, committing murder with scornful eyes. A black mamba is said to have venom potent enough to have 19 grown men keel over and die. She was good for at least 25.
"R-right…" I said, retreating to a book my counselor had recommended.
We didn't really pay each other much attention afterwards. I found myself engrossed in the book. Whether out of genuine interest or to avoid conversation was beyond me, but I had nothing else to do otherwise. On the other hand, she spent the next couple hours talking to her friends on facetime, occasionally pulling me into the frame to show off her "sweet little brother." It felt like I was a trophy she was flaunting, though I know she didn't mean for it to come across that way.
About an hour or so later, I remembered my peculiar interaction with Chitose. I'd grown interested in her character, and figured that my sister might have something useful to say. While there was a chance I would get nothing of value from this conversation, it was probably better than just thinking about it by myself. Probably.
"Haruka."
"Woah, that's weird. Don't just say my name like that."
"Sorry."
She gestured towards her phone. "Should I turn it off?"
I nodded.
She turned to her friends on facetime, "Hey guys, the nurse is here to do check-ups. I'll talk to you in a bit, 'kay?"
"Later, Haru!"
"Byeee!"
Facing me with a smug grin, she spoke. "So, what do you have for me, sweet little brother?"
I frowned. "I wish you'd stop calling me that."
"I wish you'd call me 'big sister' like you used to."
"In your dreams."
"You're right, I do dream about those simpler times." There was a hint of nostalgia in her otherwise lighthearted tone. "Anyway, what's up?"
I needed to tread carefully with my sister. If I said the wrong things, she'd jump to conclusions. Well, she'd do it either way. It was mostly a game on how to avoid making it as uncomfortable as possible.
"I met this person today-"
Flashbang! … Is what I imagined in my mind as the stars in her eyes blinded me for a moment. "What's her name? Is she pretty? Do you have a crush on her?"
"...We just met."
"Heard of love at first sight?"
"That's why you've got three exes."
A rush of wind brushed past my face. It was a swing. She'd skipped the 'Hmph!' and went straight for the punch.
"And that's why you have none," she said.
I took a bit of a pause to catch my breath and let the adrenaline run its course. What a dodge by me. "Chitose Reiko..." I said.
"...Chitose Reiko. Pretty name. Is she pretty, too?"
She had a perfectly symmetrical facial structure that highlighted her princess-like features. Her eyes, barring how uncomfortable they made me feel, were deep and colorful. She had a reasonably …endowed… figure, too. If she wanted, there could be a modeling career in her future. Everything about Chitose Reiko was, in all sense of the word, attractive.
"Objectively speaking, she's attractive."
"And subjectively?"
I didn't really have a particular type so to say. Generally, I preferred quieter girls that could match my energy. Even back when that Miyashita Marou was around, I found that they complimented his outgoing personality. Chitose was quite the opposite of this. She was the kind of person to "adopt" an introvert and lug them around to all sorts of places.
"Do you get why it's so hard for me to answer that question? No matter how I answer you'll make fun of me."
My sister's silence spoke a thousand words, and her dead-pan eyes spoke a million.
I felt a warmth in my cheeks. There was really no point in denying that Chitose was eye candy. In fact, she was a little addicting to look at. "...Yea."
She did a little celebratory wiggle in her place. "Well, what is it about her? I doubt you'd just bring up a pretty girl. You don't actually like her, do you? I was mostly kidding when I asked."
"Of course not," I cleared my throat. "I'm just a bit confused."
"So… it's a complicationship?"
I decided to ignore the way she was taking the conversation. "The way she acts… how do I put this… it's like there's a camera on her. Like she's in a show?"
A quick flash of disappointment sprung in my sister's brow as she let out a frustrated nose blast, before quickly moving on. "You mean like an actor playing a part?"
"Yea, exactly like that."
"Tsundere? Kuudere? Genki girl?"
"Definitely genki- Wait. That has nothing to do with it."
My sister would always manage crafty ways to gain information she found interest in. This sly habit of hers vastly contrasted her heads-up straightforward nature, which is what made people like her particularly dangerous. It was easy to get caught up in a charismatic person's words. Since they're so charming, people don't catch the true intentions behind their actions. My sister hid her slyness by being a natural conversationalist, so it was almost impossible to pick out any ulterior motives.
She waved off my previous statement. "Well… highschool girls are super impressionable. Maybe she watched a show and felt attached to a character?"
There she goes again. Through what comes across as a natural progression in the conversation, she could come to two conclusions based on the answers provided.
If I knew or mentioned a particular show, it could be concluded that I was at the very least acquainted with Chitose, or that she was comfortable with me knowing more than other people. If Chitose's personality was truly a replication of a character, you could assume that she wouldn't want just anyone knowing about it. Second, it gave an insight to the potential type of person Chitose was. Is she emotional? Impressionable? How does she show admiration?
Without my ability, I wouldn't be able to notice these things, and yet my sister did it absolutely seamlessly. I'm sure she could draw more information than just those two things alone, but staring into my sister's soul especially seemed to take a toll on me.
I averted my burning eyes."...It was probably a little more complicated than that. I'm not really sure what it is, to be honest. I guess I'm more worried than anything else."
"Worried?"
"...Yea. I'm not sure what to think of it at all."
"I wouldn't rack my brain over it too much. If you're really interested, you could just ask," she shrugged.
Ironic. I thought. "Right…"
"You'd be surprised just how open a lot of people get towards people they just met." She stared solemnly out the window, the light of the sunset perfectly overlapping with her figure. "In any case, make sure you take care of her." Her sudden change in tone was jarring. My sister turned back to me with a heavy smile that juxtaposed her light giggle. "She might end up your girlfriend, after all."
"...I wish you'd stop thinking like that."
"Everyone's a candidate until they aren't."
"I should get going, probably," I said, getting up from my chair. I didn't want to think too much about that anymore. "I feel a headache coming on, and I don't want to miss the last bus."
"Get some meds from the nurse on the way out—And, introduce me to Chitose sometime!"
"Yea, yea," I said, rolling my eyes. I had no intention of those two ever meeting. The repercussions could be catastrophic, akin to a world-ending cataclysm. "Sure, I guess."
***
I headed to the lobby, where a familiar looking nurse greeted me with a smile.
"Finished visiting your sister?"
I blinked twice. Were her eyes glowing brighter than usual? I could barely look at the lower half of her face at this point without squinting in pain. I was practically stuck staring at her chin. "Yea."
"She really enjoys your visits."
"I'd hope she does. It really is a bother to come all the way out here every friday." I said sarcastically, rubbing my eyes. "Do you think I could get some medication for my head?"
"That's no problem," she said, "Ibuprofen alright?"
"Yea, that'll be fine."
As I left through the front automatic sliding doors, I glanced back at the building, a big red cross glowing in the dark, next to big bold letters.
Ittori Hospital.
***
Getting from the hospital to the station near my house wasn't complicated. Thankfully on Fridays there was a bus route that ran directly from both places, but because there was a bit of distance to cover and I wasn't taking a train, the commute could last up to an hour and a half, depending on traffic.
I'd come to be relatively friendly with the bus driver, an old man around his 60s—I never bothered asking, though he looked like a senior—who seemed to always be the one driving this route.
"Good afternoon, Miyashita," he said, tipping his black conductor hat. "Pleasure to see you again."
Aside from me, the bus was completely empty. It usually was, since the route ran directly from point A to point B. I took a seat near the front of the bus.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Driver." The old man never told me his name. Most bus drivers around here had nameplates, but I figured he never bothered to put his on. That's probably against regulation, right? It didn't really bother me all too much, since we mostly just engaged in small talk and never anything actually too personal. He didn't want to pry, is my assumption, so in turn I didn't pry into his life, either. I was the passenger, and he was the driver, and that was the extent of our relationship.
A lot of people were getting home from their office jobs around the time I finished my visit, so it took an unfortunate amount of time to get to the station. I was drowsy by the time I got off the bus, and the sun was all but completely set. It was dark, though the streetlamps and building lights made it easier to see. The orange glow of the lamps reminded me of the lamp in my counselor's room, though significantly more expensive… and bright. What could he be doing right now? I imagined him at his house with a lit cigarette in one hand and Voltaire in the other. I didn't know if he was a smoker, but he had the sophisticated raggedness of one so I wouldn't be surprised.
My neighbourhood was relatively quiet. All the markets were on the other side of town, so that's where most people frequented, even at night. There wasn't really any reason to come by here, unless you lived in this specific area.
It was 9:30pm at this point, and unless I wanted to starve, I still had to make myself dinner. Listing out the things in my fridge that I could use for a quick meal, I decided that I'd make Gyudon with eggs. Simple, quick, healthy and tasty. All four criteria were filled, so it was a no brainer.
As I rounded the corner into my street, a blonde girl was crouched down at my front gate next to a suitcase. The street lamp illuminated her, and though I couldn't see her face, I already knew who it was.
She turned to me with a gleeful expression, "Hey!"
Chitose stood up and strolled towards me, accompanied by the sound of her suitcase's wheels trailing on the asphalt.
Both times I ran into Chitose, it was like the start of a musical theatre scene. The main focus would be on her as the starting point, then it would play out as I walked onto the stage, bringing a change of pace to her current state with action or dialogue. The world had a strange sense of humor, always giving her a spotlight to open every scene. "What's with you and spotlights?" I said as an aside to the living cliché.
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"...Nevermind. Why are you here?"
"I can't come over to say hello to my good friend?"
"We only just met. You're talking like we've known each other for years. Still, at this time of night? With a suitcase?"
I stared at her, though she didn't return the eye contact until after her gaze had paced around a couple times.
"Er… well… how do I say this…?"
"Say it already."
"My apartment's donezo."
"...Donezo..?" Her choice in vocabulary was always amusing, despite being confusing more often than helpful.
"A pipe bursted. Apparently the landlord was keeping it under wraps until it literally popped… haha."
"So… you're here to ask for a place to stay?" This was the pitfall that put mass produced rom-coms into motion. I'd give her a place to stay, and we'd get into heated interactions that bring us closer together. Unbeknownst to us, we'd develop feelings for each other and would struggle with romantic tension. Eventually, our emotions would burst in an exciting climax, leading to a heart-warming confession.
The thought of it made my stomach churn.
She perked up, putting her hands together. "Can I?" Her eyes were shut tight.
"Can't you ask literally anyone else? We're not that close."
She peeked at me with her left eye. "I had to ask someone low profile! Do you know how quickly news spreads around school?"
Gossip spread like wildfire at Shuhei High. During my freshman year, there was an incident. One of the senior volleyball players was lined up for a handful of scholarships, and was even a tryout for Japan's U-21 team, but not long after nationals, a rumor was spread that he'd been fooling around with a junior high girl. The press club quickly caught wind of it, and once the topic was out on that Monday's issue, it was over for his career. Despite his and the girl's insistence, the damage had already been done, and his reputation crumbled. I'm not sure what happened afterwards, since I only heard of the incident by word of mouth, but I was told he quit playing competitively shortly afterwards.
"There's no way I can let people know I live alone. I mean, think about my safety!" She had moved onto a puppy-eyed expression, her hands forming a V around her face. "It's worrisome being a cute highschool girl! What if the boys from our school find out and stalk me?"
"I'm a boy, too." I frowned.
"Haha, that's okay. You're just good old Miyashita Marou to me!"
It stung a little bit that she didn't see me as a threat. Or rather as a person of the opposite sex. But… low profile as well? Am I really that under a rock?
"I've definitely got a couple issues with this." I gave her a side eye. "And stop talking like we're childhood friends."
"I guess I would be intruding a little bit."
"A little bit?"
"A lot."
In truth, I'd grown to build a fascination with Chitose. She reminded me of that Miyashita Marou. The one that shined in the limelight, and the one that exuded inhuman perfection. I meant to ask her more specifics during lunch earlier in the day, but she'd avoided all my questions with her own. By the end of our conversation, she knew more about me than I did about her.
I sighed, "You don't have to stay for long, do you?"
"Nope, just a week or so. Building safety was really on my landlord's case for this one."
"Fine, then. If it's that long, it couldn't hurt."
"Thank you, Marou!" She took my hands and cusped them together in her own. They were soft, but surprisingly cold. How long was she out here for?
I broke away from her. "...What's up with 'Marou?'"
"Oh, well… I figured 'Miyashita' felt a little distant?"
"We met today."
"With all we talked about at lunch, wouldn't it be safe to say we're at least a little bit friends?"
"...They say that spilling secrets to a stranger is easier than someone you're close with."
She pouted. "Oh, c'mon!"
I itched the groove behind my earlobe. "Alright, fine."
Taking a glance at her, she had a look in her eyes that I swore said 'you know what to do.'
"No. No way I'm doing that."
"It wouldn't hurt to call me Reiko! We're more than friends now! We're roomies!"
"I can change that."
"Gweh..!" Her face had scrunched together like she was given a dope slap to the back of the head. At this point, it looked like she was about to let out a hearty "Bwahaha! Sorry!" but she just scratched the back of her neck as the air around her got a little more serious. "Uhm… fair point," she shrugged. "It was worth a shot." After a pause, Chitose then scanned the area with a hand to her brow. After she made sure no one was around, she continued. "Marou. I've got a question."
"What is it now?"
"You really weren't kidding about what you told me in the art room?"
"I guess it's a little more complicated than how I explained it, but… no, I wasn't kidding."
"Then what am I thinking, right now?"
"...Are you serious? Didn't I tell you-"
"You don't see stars in my eyes. So you can't tell."
"You already knew the answer, so why'd you even ask?"
"Do you know why I don't have stars?" I hated how often she'd 'answer' my questions with her own set of questions.
"I have no clue."
"Then…" she spun around in a little twirl to face away from me, "I'll tell you what's on my mind right now, if you want."
Was the twirl really necessary? My head ached at how unbearably difficult it was to not have your mind melt interacting with this… piece of living cotton candy. "...Sure, I guess."
"It's getting a little chilly."
"...Come inside."