The afternoon periods are dragging so much that I keep sneaking peeks at my watch and the clock hanging above the teacher's head. Each minute feels like an eternity of torture, making it almost unbearable to sit still on this wooden chair. Eventually, I prop up my textbook like a little shield and sneak out my phone beneath it, firing off a quick text to Ayaka.
And her reply pops up almost instantly. [I've got a club activity]
Hah, like I care about her silly manga club. I've got basketball practice myself, gearing up for the winter tournament. But if I can skip out on mine, why can't she ditch hers, hm?
My thumbs fly across the keyboard, crafting a response.
[Nah, I don't care. I'm gonna fetch you at your class after school.]
Immediately after that, Ayaka shoots back a sticker—a little creature with a pouty face, clearly shows she's at a loss for words. Ha-ha, the perks of being the big brother!
As soon as the last bell of the day rings, I'm already shoving my books into my bag and saying my goodbyes to others. A few classmates wonder if I'm off to Maki's class to walk her home, others ask if I'm heading straight to the gym for basketball practice. Hah, none of them have a clue about what's really on my mind—after all, they don't really know the real me.
I stick to my plan, making my way toward Ayaka's classroom in the west building. As I stride through the hallways, I pass a few girls who flash hopeful smiles, maybe they're silently pleading for a sliver of my attention. The boys I walk past wear expressions of stunned surprise, as if they're not quite prepared to be dazzled by my presence—or maybe they're just shocked to see a senior wandering through the freshman block.
And when I finally reach Ayaka's classroom, her classmates react as if they've been waiting for a celebrity.
"Oh, my god! It's Hasegawa-senpai!"
"Hurry up, Ayaka-chan! Your brother is here."
Their excitement fills the air, making it clear that my arrival is somewhat of an event in itself. Every time I swing by to see Ayaka, her class erupts into this kind of chaos, screeching so loud you'd think I'm standing beneath the engines of a Tupolev Tu-95… uhm, maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration, but you get the idea. And like always, I flash my practiced smile at my little fans, while Ayaka makes her way over to me, her face etched with annoyance. Obviously, she can always spot my fakeness from a mile away, and it's clear she's less than thrilled about the mini spectacle I create each time I step into the room.
"Okay, let's go…" Ayaka grabs my arm and tugs me her way, pulling us out of her classroom while the girls wave goodbye, their eyes still fixed on me.
To the outside world, it looks like I come from the picture-perfect family, the kind that ticks all the right boxes: loving parents with stable jobs, a seemingly harmonious household. Sure, I won't deny that my folks are caring and provide well for us. But beneath that veneer, we're just like any other family. Ayaka and I? We bicker nearly every day, the typical sibling spats that nobody else sees.
"Hah… I can't wait to see you leave school, nii-san…," Ayaka sighs, her voice tinged with a mix of annoyance and resignation as she matches my pace down the pathway towards the nearest train station. "You overshadow me, you know. Every time people come up to talk to me, it's always about you."
I get where she's coming from. It's a lot like when people figured out who my older sister was. Suddenly, guys would sidle up to me, fishing for info about whether she had a boyfriend. Some even wormed their way into being my 'friends' just to snag an invite over, hoping for a chance to catch a glimpse of her. But my situation doesn't quite match the intensity of Ayaka's—there is a six-year gap between me and nee-san, while Ayaka and I are only two years apart. The annoyance definitely ramps up when we're both at the same school.
"You know, there will come a day when people will eventually get tired of talking about one person," I say, trying to offer her a bit of comfort.
"I know that. But why are we going home together anyway?" she probes, shifting the topic.
"Aha! That's right!" I exclaim, my sudden outburst making Ayaka jump a little—I swear her heart nearly leapt out of her chest. "You won't believe what I just found out—it turns out that blonde-haired guy is linked to Horie-san's death."
"Horie-san…?" Ayaka frowns.
I can almost see the gears turning in her head, a torrent of questions about to spill out: which guy am I talking about, what's the deal with Horie-san's death, why am I digging into this story, and on and on. But there's no time to unpack all that now—we've got to hustle to catch our train, using every ounce of our energy to speed up our pace instead of diving into a deep discussion.