Let Her Love You for Me

In the summer of 2008, I watched an interview with the singer Hitoto Yo. I had always thought of her as a woman of poise and intelligence, but from the moment the program began, sitting across from Koji Tamaki, she cried. I heard he was the man she had loved for fifteen years.

Throughout the interview her eyes were wet. Whenever Tamaki spoke, she watched him without moving, and something in the way her feelings turned and turned inside her made people sigh. At the time I kept wondering what sort of love could hurt so much.

Not until 2009, when I met you again, did I suddenly understand Hitoto Yo's sorrow. There is a kind of love in this world that breaks into tears before it is ever spoken.

The shopping street beside the university was noisy with people. I was wearing a flamboyant red knit hat and sitting in a udon shop. When the owner brought over a large bowl, I dumped in a ridiculous amount of bright red chili and green cilantro, then ate in big hungry mouthfuls, ignoring the strange looks from the boys and girls passing outside.

This university was one of the country's elite schools. Anyone who came here was either gifted or rich. You, sitting across from me with that bright, handsome face, were plainly the latter. I noticed you had been staring at me for a long time, from the moment I sat down and ordered until the moment I finished the last sip of broth.

Still, there was no need to study me as if I were a specimen. You, some extravagant rich boy, had ordered a bowl too and not taken a single bite, only kept turning your chopsticks over in it.

I had no interest in speaking to someone who wasted food. So even though I knew you were waiting for me to ask why you were staring, or what you wanted, I ignored you, pulled a tissue out to wipe my mouth, and got up to leave.

That was when you panicked. You jumped up with me and called after me as I turned away. "Hey. I want to invite you to join the dance club."

I turned and smiled at you. "I only know how to strip. That's a very stale way to hit on someone."

I had only meant to scare you, and sure enough, you stood there looking embarrassed. Luckily you recovered fast. A second later you grinned with practiced ease. "You're exactly the kind of talent we're missing. So what class are you in?"

You kept blocking my way, relentless enough to make me laugh. You were as stubborn as Hiroto, the sort who would not stop until he got what he wanted. The thought of Hiroto made me a little more tolerant. I pointed to the massage parlor not far outside the campus gates. "I work there."

When you turned and saw the enormous sign over the place, you froze. I ignored the shock in your eyes and walked away as if nothing mattered. After I had gone a long way, I looked back. You were still standing there, looking oddly lost, while boys and girls your age streamed around you with light on their faces, vivid and alive. In that moment, I slapped my own cheek.

Then I forced my mouth into a stiff little smile. I did not know why, but all at once I felt sad.

That night I woke from a nightmare and got up for water. The little room was dim. The furniture was sparse and old. Hiroto's voice came out of the dark. "Sis. Another nightmare?"

"Mm." I grabbed the kettle on the table and drank from it as if the water were the only oasis left to someone walking through a desert. From the other side of the curtain, Hiroto got up and came over to hug me. In the dark his shoulders were so thin they seemed made of bone. I buried my face against them and said into his shirt, "I'm fine. Go back to sleep. You have class tomorrow."

Hiroto said nothing. He only helped me lie back down before returning to his own bed. A little later his breathing settled into an even rhythm. I stared at the moonlight outside the window and could not fall asleep. The dream rose in front of me with the awful reality of an old film I had seen too many times: the great fire, the collapsing house, the grief on a woman's face in the flames, the pleading in a man's eyes, my face and Hiroto's lit red by firelight, his hand clenched around mine. How many years ago had it been? It felt as if my life had clouded over from that moment on. I was ten then. One day Father came home with a little boy. He said someone had abandoned him on the street and he couldn't bear to leave him there. The boy's eyes were black and wary as he stared at everything unfamiliar in our house.

Mother did not ask any questions. She let him stay. Father said the boy's name was Hiroto, and from then on he would take our family name. He was two years younger than I was, yet his face already held a maturity beyond his age. He followed behind me like a little shadow, and every time I turned around he would lift his face and call me big sister in a voice meant to please. Mother was always distant with him. At first I did not understand why she disliked such a pretty child.

Only later, after I accidentally saw her crying alone, and heard the neighbors whispering behind our backs for days, did I learn the truth. Hiroto was Father's child with another woman, a woman who had died young because of poor health. Father had brought home the youngest son he cherished most. Mother, humble as dust, did not dare say anything. She could only cry in secret.

Until that fire burned everything away.

I saw you again at night. I was bowing to every customer at a perfect ninety degrees and saying, "Welcome," when Hiroto came running over, smiling. "Sis." I glared at him. "What are you doing here? Your job right now is to study. Not fool around."

Hiroto shot me a wronged look and tried to explain. "Sosuke-senpai invited some classmates to sing. I just stopped by to see you. Don't worry, I'm not singing."

Then he shoved the boy behind him toward me. "Here. This is the upperclassman I always tell you about, Kamiya Sosuke." The instant you stepped forward, I went completely still. People always say the world is large. Why, when it came to me, did it have to shrink into something this small? You were plainly startled to see me too, but then you smiled in a way that meant more than it said. So you were the famous senior Hiroto kept talking about, the one all over campus, the one companies had fought to sign away while you were only in your second year.

Your gaze irritated me. Telling one lie and having it exposed at once feels terrible. I only nodded at you coolly, then pushed Hiroto away. "Since you came with your classmates, go have fun." He looked back in a hurry. "Sis, I won't sing. I'm just keeping you company." I waved him off impatiently. "Why would you keep me company? I still have to work. Go on." Not understanding what was happening, Hiroto had no choice but to sling an arm around you and head toward the private room. I felt you glance back at me. That night I did not get off until three in the morning. When I came out, I found you and Hiroto sitting outside the milk-tea shop next door. The moment he saw me, Hiroto jumped up. "Sis." I looked at you in surprise, and he hurried to explain, "I was waiting for you to get off. Senpai stayed with me."

You smiled. "Want to get something to eat?" Hiroto turned to look at me, and after a moment's hesitation I nodded. Osaka is loveliest at night. At three in the morning it is still blazing with light and noise. The skewer stalls on the roadside stay open in all weather, full of people eating with the heat of a festival. Out there, status means very little. Even people who drove BMWs and Mercedes every day would sit down at roadside stalls to eat, and those same stalls were paradise for students too: fair prices, good food.

I handed you the menu. "Thank you for treating my brother to karaoke tonight. I'll return the favor with skewers." You laughed, but you did not argue. You only took the menu and ordered, chatting with Hiroto now and then about his classes. Looking at Hiroto's bright, excited face, I felt my heart fill to the brim. The boy who had trailed after me all his life had finally grown into a tall, dependable young man.

When we parted that night, you patted Hiroto on the shoulder. Then, as you brushed past me, you said in a voice barely louder than breath, "Liar."

I did not pause. I walked past as though I had not heard. I did not mind being called a liar. That was, after all, one of the ways I protected myself. From childhood on, Hiroto had been a lonely boy, but after he started spending time with you, he became visibly brighter. He told me excitedly, "Sis, Sosuke-senpai said he'll introduce me to some paid work later. Then I can earn a little on the side."

After a pause he added, "That way you won't have to work so hard either." As he said it, I saw something shining in his eyes. I shook my head and smiled. Foolish child.

You started coming and going from our place as you pleased. On weekends you brought a crowd of classmates over for hot pot. You would take off your coat, roll up the sleeves of a clean white shirt, and somehow look perfectly at ease in our shabby room. You often asked me, "Shiraishi Kaho, you're working nights. What do you do during the day?" Hiroto would always answer for me with pride. "My sister picks up online work. She makes small websites and writes copy for shop owners." That would interest you, and you would start asking what sort of sites. I would laugh it off and say they were boring little jobs you would not care about, and you would stop pressing. Once I got to know you better, I realized you were a very considerate boy. Out of all the boys who came around, your family had the most money, but you never threw your weight around, and you never made anyone uncomfortable. In private you said to me, "Shiraishi Kaho, I really did strike up a conversation because it was love at first sight. Don't treat me like some spoiled playboy." I snorted. "Please. You're just a child." Suddenly you caught my hand. "Who are you calling a child? I asked Hiroto. We're the same age." The warmth of that touch threw my heartbeat out of rhythm. I shook you off and turned away. Sosuke, you did not understand. Being the same age was only on the surface. My heart had already grown old in that summer when the sky was full of fire.

Hiroto said nothing. I turned to you and saw a bruise darkening your cheek as well. You gestured for me to help Hiroto inside first. When I came back out, I stared at you. "What happened?"

By then tears were already falling. The streak of fresh red seeping through the gauze on Hiroto's head made my chest seize. Gently you told me that when you all went out to eat, you ran into the man who had spoken obscenely to me the last time. He started in again with filthy talk. You could not bear it, so you fought. There were more of them than there were of you. Hiroto's head had been split open, and the rest of you had come away with only lighter injuries.

That had happened not long before. Once you learned where I worked, you often brought friends there. One time a drunk man tried to paw at me. You had numbers on your side that night, and there were karaoke security guards around, so the man was driven off.

This time I lowered my head. "Thank you for being with him tonight." You stayed silent for a while. Then suddenly you said, "Shiraishi Kaho, be with me." I lifted my head and met the sharpness in your eyes. You went on, "Shiraishi Kaho, let's be together. Let me take care of you." Moonlight lay across the bruises on your face and made you look like a star - bright, remote, impossible to reach. I shook my head softly. "I'm sorry, Kamiya Sosuke. I can't afford to love you."

The moonlight that night, the words you said, the hand that held mine - for a very long time, they remained something I did not dare look back on. When I went back inside, Hiroto was sitting on the edge of the bed with his head lowered. All the calm I had been forcing into myself vanished. I snatched up the cup at my side and threw it. "I put you through school so you could study, not so you could get into street fights! Shiraishi Hiroto, you've disappointed me. How did you become this absurd? Did I waste my own youth so you could go around being my hired thug?" At first he only listened. Then he shot to his feet and roared back, "I never asked you to support me!" With that he ran out, and the whole room turned desolate at once. I slid down the wall, a heavy helplessness pressing in on me. Moonlight poured across the floor, soft as Mother's hand against my face, and everywhere it touched was wet. If tears were the measure of sorrow, then mine must have been as vast as the sea.

After crying for a long time, I finally quieted down. I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and lay back on the bed. Not much later I heard the door open very softly, and Hiroto's shadow moved to my bedside. I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep. He pulled the blanket up for me and whispered, so faintly I almost missed it, "Sis. I'm sorry." I could hear the choke in his voice. When we were children and he made me angry, he used to run away on his own. A little while later he would creep back and apologize in the same tiny voice. No matter how soft it was, I always heard him.

That night, even after his breathing turned even again, I still could not sleep. I went over to his bed. In the moonlight Hiroto looked startlingly clean. The edge of the bandage wrapped around his head was faintly red. He was wearing a sleeveless shirt, and the scar on his shoulder twisted like a worm, ugly enough to bring the tears rushing back. At once, the memory the fire had almost swallowed rose up before me again.

Back then we were still living in a small town, in a detached house with its own little yard. When the fire broke out, we were all still asleep. Father woke us, threw wet bedding over us, and carried us outside. The flames surged. Mother followed behind us, but a piece of burning furniture crashed down on her. Father turned back to drag her out, and at that exact moment a burning beam gave way and fell on both of them. I stood by the outdoor tap screaming for Father and Mother and lunging forward, and then, just as a burning willow branch nearby came swaying down, a small figure threw himself at me like a wild animal and knocked me flat, covering me with his body.

That figure was Hiroto, only eleven years old. From inside the sea of fire Father kept shouting in broken bursts, "Kaho. Take care of Hiroto." Mother's eyes, fixed on him, were full of pain. I knew his last request had wounded her. A man, at the moment of death, was still begging his daughter to take care of the son he had with another woman. I heard Hiroto groan on top of me and then roll away. His clothes had caught fire. I do not know why, but in that instant it was as if I suddenly grew up. I scrambled to the tap, filled a basin with water, and threw it over Hiroto's shoulders and back.

The fire raged for half an hour. By the time the firefighters arrived, Hiroto was sprawled on the ground, barely breathing. Before I learned the truth that he was my half brother, I had hated his arrival for what it did to Mother. But when he lay in front of me covered in wounds, I screamed myself half mad. "Save my brother! Save my brother!" The fire of my thirteenth year was put out, but it never left my heart. Hiroto's scars were like a totem. One glance at them was enough to bring back the pain. I would never forget that he took those wounds for me, risked his life for me.

From then on, I took responsibility for him. I was his sister, his guardian. He was my brother, my duty. He went to school with his head wrapped in bandages. Every day friends came to pick him up. He would look at me shyly and say, "Sis, don't worry. I won't be reckless again."

I smiled, lifted my wrist to check the time, and said, "Go on. I have to leave for work too." After Hiroto went out, I went back inside, turned on the computer, and logged into LINE to talk to an online contact whose handle was "One Flower Only." I typed, "The weather is nice today." We had been chatting for a week. He understood my hint at once. "Oto," he wrote, "I'd like to meet you. Is that okay?"

"Sure," I wrote back. "Where?" He answered immediately: Tsukimi Cafe. "How will I know you?" "I'll be wearing a red hat. See you soon." I watched his avatar dim, then shut down my own computer, got dressed, and went out.

Online, my name was Oto, a lively girl full of brightness. "One Flower Only" was a middle-aged man. The moment he saw me, a little flame jumped into his eyes. I sneered inwardly, but I slipped my arm through his and said sweetly, "Let's go in. I'm hungry."

I ordered a steak, a juice, and a fruit platter. "One Flower Only" ordered a bottle of wine. We laughed and chatted while I ate. After a while a familiar face appeared reflected in the window. You were tapping on the glass and smiling at me from outside. My companion asked who you were. I said, "My brother." Then I hurriedly turned back to him with a bright smile. "Wait for me a second."

Then I rushed out. You stood there and said, "What a coincidence." I answered carelessly. You looked inside and asked, "Who is he?" "None of your business." You grabbed my arm. "One look at that greasy stare and you can tell he's not a good man. Besides, you don't even know anyone in this city. So this is the 'work' you were talking about?"

You had never spoken so sharply before. I looked up and ran straight into the coldness on your face. Angry, I yanked my arm free. "Kamiya Sosuke, what I do has nothing to do with you." You gave a hard little laugh. "And Hiroto? He has nothing to do with it either?" I had no answer. I could only glare at you until, in the end, I lost. I lowered my voice. "Fine. Wait for me up ahead. I'll come explain after I'm done." Only then did you turn away unhappily.

After I finished playing Oto, I found you in a milk-tea shop. I sat down and told you the middle-aged man was the administrator of a website and had wanted to meet me to talk about future work.

You tapped your fingers on the table. "What website?" I glared at you. "Why are you so nosy? Even if I told you, you wouldn't know it." You fell silent. Later Hiroto said to me, "Sis, Sosuke-senpai likes you." "Oh? So what?" I asked, sewing a button back on while raising an eyebrow. "Then... won't you think about it?" Hiroto watched my face carefully. "He's a good person. He comes from a good family, and he keeps himself clean. He's not like those other good-looking guys who flirt everywhere just because they can."

I looked up at him. "Do you think that if I got together with him, you would stop being a burden?" Hiroto panicked. "Sis, what are you talking about? You are never a burden to me." Then he turned and walked away.

I did not stop him. I knew that only by saying it that way could I cut off the thought of him coming back to persuade me again.

You kept taking classmates out singing, and eventually even the girls I worked with came to know who you were. One of them saw through it and said, "Shiraishi Kaho, you really are lucky. When other girls meet a prince, either there is already a princess at his side, or his family won't allow it. But yours? Your prince is single and financially independent, and you still don't even seem tempted."

I lowered my head and smiled. How could she understand? It was not that I was not moved. It was that I did not dare to be. I had my responsibilities. I did not want a tragedy that belonged to two people to suddenly become something a third person had to bear.

You were so young. I did not want your face to cloud over too. The disasters life gives us do not fade easily. So even though you kept pressing forward, swearing and planning and never giving up, I could only retreat step by step, losing every move. I thought that if not for that accident, you and I might have gone on that way forever. By day I was Oto, bright and lively. By night I was a part-time girl in a karaoke bar.

But a cruel coincidence cost me Oto's work. That day, as usual, I met someone from online at Tsukimi Cafe. He looked more decent than the last one, so I softened and ordered only a steak and a juice. Halfway through, I stood up and said I was going to the restroom.

I dawdled from the restroom to the back door, got on the bicycle the cafe kept there, and was just about to slip away. I had ridden no more than a hundred meters when two policemen in blue uniforms rushed out of a car at the roadside and stopped me. They looked at me and said, "Miss Oto?"

I swore inwardly and started pretending not to understand. I looked at them blankly and asked, "What?" They said, "Miss Oto, please come back with us and cooperate in an investigation." I kept pretending. "Who are you? Who is Oto?" Just then the man I had met at the cafe came up behind us. Smiling, he said, "Miss Oto, you forgot me that quickly?"

The two policemen in front of me looked severe, their badges sharp on their shoulders. The so-called online acquaintance shook hands with them and smiled. I understood at once. They had arranged this trap a long time ago. The truth was, I was no rich girl. I had not even finished high school. How could I possibly have the life I pretended to have? I was just one of Tsukimi Cafe's plants. Every day I chatted with men online, arranged to meet them at the cafe, ordered the most expensive things, excused myself halfway through for the restroom, and slipped out the back while they got stuck with the huge bill. The things at Tsukimi Cafe were ordinary enough. Juice that cost eighteen yen outside cost eighty-eight there. A steak that should have been eighty-eight cost a hundred and eighty-eight. The prices were absurd, but that was not my business. My job was only to bring them in and take my commission. I knew it was immoral, but Hiroto's tuition was too high. I kept telling myself that the men I cheated were all bad men anyway, all lechers, and so I bit down on my conscience. Now, even facing the righteous severity of the police, I still refused to confess. They told me people had reported Tsukimi Cafe for defrauding customers, and that as a plant my own liability was limited. If I only said what I knew and showed the right attitude, at worst I would be detained a few days.

But I clenched my teeth and still refused to admit anything. I could not spend even one day in detention. What would happen if Hiroto came home and could not find me? The police were getting a headache from my stubbornness. One of them tried to scare me. "Young lady, you're not that old. Surely you don't want to stay here forever."

I threw back the things I had learned from television. "You don't even have evidence. How can you detain someone for nothing?" The policemen looked at each other and smiled. One of them held up a recorder. It played, over and over, the words I had spoken when I met their undercover officer. I bit down harder and simply refused to budge. "So what if I'm Oto? I only agreed to meet someone from online. What's wrong with that?"

They had nothing to say to that, so they let me sit there for the moment. As it got later and later, I grew more and more anxious. "How can you hold someone like this for no reason?"

"We're only bringing a suspect in for questioning right now," they said. "If the suspect won't cooperate, then we'll just have to ask more slowly." That really frightened me. I said I wanted to make a phone call. They looked me over, decided a girl like me could not stir up much, and handed over the phone.

No matter how I turned it over in my mind, there was only one person I could call: you. In that whole city, you were the only person I knew well enough. The truth was, when they first brought me into the station, I had been at a complete loss. I had grown up beneath my parents' protection and had never encountered anything like this. Of course I did my best to look hard and composed, like I had iron in my bones, because I would not let anyone see the fear in me.

I kept telling myself to stay calm. I managed it. I ignored the policemen's questioning. But the instant I heard your voice, I broke. All the strength I had been clinging to collapsed. Crying helplessly into the phone, I said, "Kamiya Sosuke, get me out of here. Please get me out. Don't tell Hiroto. Come by yourself. I'm at the police station." The second you heard me, you went still and said, in a voice sharp as a knife, "Wait for me." Then the line went dead. My legs gave out. I sank over the desk as if a mortal danger had finally been lifted from me. Quietly, I waited. Outside, the grass and trees drooped in the heat, lifeless, just like my heart. I felt like a trapped bird with nowhere to fly.

The two policemen saw me crying over the desk after the call and tried once more to reason with me, softening their voices and appealing to my feelings. I still said nothing. I was afraid that if I spoke carelessly before you came, I would make things impossible to fix.

Less than ten minutes later, you arrived. You stood outside the holding-room window and talked to me through the bars. "Don't worry. It'll be fine."

Then you stepped away to make phone calls. I watched your tall, straight figure outside the window and suddenly felt at peace. I watched you in silence as the evening sunlight spread richly over your shoulders. When you finished your calls, you came back and took my hand. I did not yank it away like I usually did. I let you hold it. For the first time in my life, I wanted to let you keep holding it, to go on like that no matter what the universe still had in store.

You pulled two packs of cigarettes out of your pocket and tossed them to the two policemen nearby. "Let her rest for a while. In a bit she'll tell you everything she knows." One of them laughed. "You're a sensible young man." Then they lit up and started smoking, grinning.

A little later there was the sound of a car outside. You glanced back and said, "When they ask you questions, answer them. Once you're done, you can come out."

I caught at your sleeve and asked in a tiny voice, "Then should I tell the truth or lie?" You smiled. "Fool. The truth, of course. Don't worry. I'm here."

Sure enough, I answered the police simply and honestly. A moment later the undercover officer pushed open the door and said, "Come on out." I followed him out, and as we walked he lectured me earnestly. "You're a good girl. How did you get mixed up in something this foolish? Don't ever do it again." At the door he tugged me once more. When I turned back, he shot a glance toward you and said, "With a boyfriend like that, what are you worried about money for?"

I understood what he meant. I only smiled at him helplessly. Perhaps adult love is always mixed up with money and survival. But the love of the young holds only love.

For a moment just then, I had been moved because of what you had done for me. But once my head cleared, I still understood.

If I was ever with you, it could only be for love. If there were even the slightest ulterior motive in it, I would despise myself. I might dirty myself enough to do something illegal just to survive, but I could not bring myself to squander the love you offered me. I knew how hard-won it was.

After we came out of the police station, you were suddenly all laughter and bright energy, as if what had happened had given you an opening. "Shiraishi Kaho," you said, "see? Having a boyfriend is useful after all. At least when something happens to you, I'm there." I turned and looked at your joking face, and all at once I felt confused. I had only just told myself that I could not be with you. And yet as soon as I saw you, I wanted to hear you speak. I wanted to watch you smile. I don't know why. But looking at your face in that moment, I suddenly asked in a very quiet voice, "Do you really want me to be your girlfriend?"

You nodded. "Of course. It was love at first sight." I said, "What if one day you find out I'm not as good as you think? What if I lie to you? Would you hate me?"

You looked at me with sudden seriousness. "Shiraishi Kaho, even if you lie to me, I would believe you did not do it on purpose."

Maybe it was the shock of that day, or maybe I had just been carrying too much for too long. In that instant I heard myself ask, hesitantly, "Then... should we try being together?"

My heart had already taken control of my mouth. "Really?" you asked in delight. After a small hesitation, I nodded. When Hiroto heard that you and I were together, he looked even happier than I did. "Sis, if I can leave you in Sosuke-senpai's hands, I can finally relax. But I'm still going to keep working hard. I'll become someone as outstanding as him and make you the happiest woman in the world."

I started meeting your friends. Most of them came from well-off families. Some were friendly. Some were proud.

But with you there to shield me, I got along with them well enough. If there was some occasion I did not need to attend, you never asked me to go, because you knew I did not like dealing with strangers.

I still worked at the karaoke bar. You said, "Kaho, why don't you use some of your free time to study shorthand? It pays off fast, and the income is better."

You had always been a very clever person, so I trusted you and enrolled in a shorthand course, studying at my own pace. And you, during the year of your third-year internship, started your own studio.

Life was cloudless. I walked through it like someone strolling through a garden. I was happy enough to think that heaven felt it owed me something, and that you were the generous gift it had sent to my side. I never imagined that heaven could be so cold and changeable, and that what it had really prepared for me was another heavy blow.

That day, as usual, I went out with you to drink a little with your friends. I was feeling unwell, and before I was even halfway through my drink my stomach turned. So I got up to go to the restroom.

Before I left, I set my bag beside you and asked you to watch it for me. You smiled and nodded. That smile looked so good in the light that for a second it seemed impossible it could vanish. But by the time I returned from the restroom, it was gone. Everyone in the private room was staring at me as I came in from the doorway. I forced a smile. "What is it? Is there something on me?" You said nothing. You snatched up my bag, caught me by the arm, and dragged me outside. I kept asking what was wrong, but you did not answer until we were out of the hotel. Then you let go of me, pulled a brightly colored digital camera out of my bag, and demanded harshly, "When did you buy this?"

I stared at you in shock. "How could I possibly have money for a camera? That isn't mine." You pressed closer. "Then whose is it?" I shot you a look. "How should I know whose it is? Wasn't my bag with you?" You lost your voice. "So you're saying I stole my friend's camera, stuffed it into your bag, and framed you?"

In an instant, I understood. Lately, things had been going missing whenever your friends went out together, and you had mentioned it more than once, warning me to be careful and keep my bag zipped. Now you thought I was the one behind it. Furious, I snatched my bag out of your hands and shouted, "How should I know what happened? It wasn't me." Then I turned and ran. I was angry that you had pointed the finger at me without even asking. I was angry that you did not trust me.

I cried all the way home that night. I had lied to survive, yes, but I would never steal. After I got together with you, I had become extra careful in everything I did, because I knew my behavior would drag you down too. When I got home, Hiroto was playing a game. He turned around, puzzled. "Why are you back so early? Weren't you out eating with Sosuke-senpai?"

I answered vaguely and lay down on the bed. Hiroto, who had been gaming, sensed that something was wrong. He came over, touched my forehead, and asked, "What happened?"

I ignored him. He grew anxious and turned me by the shoulders. Then he saw my eyes, red from crying. "Sis, what's wrong?" he asked in alarm. I still said nothing. Hiroto suddenly pulled me into his arms and patted my shoulder, murmuring, "Don't be sad, Sis. Don't be sad. Whatever it is, just sleep." I lay on the bed feeling as if mountains were shifting inside me. Hiroto sat quietly by the bed. Maybe it was because I had walked too far, maybe because I had cried too hard, but with his hand in mine I really did drift off. I woke to shouting downstairs, boys roaring, people around them trying to break it up. Probably somebody was causing trouble, I thought. I turned over, looked at the clock, and saw that it was already five in the afternoon. I got up to cook something for Hiroto, but as I passed the window I glanced down just once, and that one glance nearly made me scream. In the middle of the crowd, two familiar figures were locked together. It was you and Hiroto. From the second floor I shouted, "Kamiya Sosuke! Shiraishi Hiroto! Stop it!" Even as I yelled, I was already running downstairs. The crowd parted for me. Both of you were bruised. I lunged forward and dragged you apart. "What are you two doing? Are you insane?" Blood was running out of Hiroto's nose. Panting, he pointed at you and said, "I'm telling you, you don't get to bully my sister. I don't care if you're my senior or the emperor himself. I'll still hit you." You looked at him and sneered. "Whether I bullied your sister or not, why don't you ask her yourself?" Hiroto turned to me in confusion, and all the people around us were looking too. In that moment my heart sank and sank. In the end I only took Hiroto's hand and said flatly, "Come home. It's time to eat."

As I turned away, your voice, which had been full of fury only a moment before, suddenly fell. "Shiraishi Kaho, you once asked me if I'd hate you if you lied to me. My answer is still the same. Even if you did lie to me, I would believe you had your reasons. But please tell me the truth, all right? I will stand on your side. I will help you. I will take care of you." My steps faltered. Tears fell onto the dry ground. Sosuke, was it because I had once done shameful things that you thought so little of me? I was not a girl who spoke nothing but lies. I had my pride. I had my dignity. I really had not stolen your friend's camera. I had not. No matter how many times I screamed it inside myself, I did not say a word to you. I only took Hiroto with me and left in silence.

If a person cannot even give the most basic trust, how can there be any talk of the long life still to come? In that moment I understood with perfect clarity that you and I had never lived in the same world. I used to read novels where the hero and heroine said they broke up because they were from different worlds, and I thought it was melodramatic. But only then did I understand how cruel that really was.

Not being in the same world means this: you have your path, and I have mine. They never cross for long. They never walk side by side. They never lean into one another.

While I was putting medicine on Hiroto's wounds, I asked him what had happened. He said that you had come downstairs looking for me, and he got angry and rushed down, and the two of you ended up fighting.

I said, "When are you going to grow up a little? When are you going to stop charging into things like this?" Hiroto said nothing. I sighed and went on, "Tell me this. If one day your sister isn't beside you anymore, who will put medicine on you then?"

The instant he heard that, Hiroto seized my hand in panic. "Sis... are you... are you going to stop wanting me?"

His voice trembled. It was exactly the way it had trembled the year of the fire, when he was sent to the hospital. If he was not holding my hand, he would not go into surgery. He had stubbornly insisted that I stay beside him. "I'm afraid," he had said then. "If you go away, I won't be able to find you again." So now, just as I had back then, I patted his head and said, "Foolish child. In this whole world, you're the only family I have left. How could I not want you?"

At that promise, Hiroto relaxed and let me keep dabbing medicine on him. After thinking it over, I still said it aloud. "Hiroto, I want to go work in another city. The kind of work I can do in Osaka is too limited. I want to go somewhere bigger."

Hiroto had only just calmed down, and at once he got agitated again. Clutching my hand, he said urgently, "I'll go with you. I don't care where you're going. I'll go too. Sis, don't leave me behind."

I laughed. "Foolish child. You're in university here." "I don't care. Then I just won't study anymore. I'll go work with you. Then you won't have to be so tired." He asked it tentatively. I slapped the medicine down on the table and said sternly, "No. You will finish your studies. I've already decided to go to Tokyo. If you keep this up, I might as well die and be done with it. Father and Mother are gone anyway." It was the first time I had ever said the word die aloud. Hiroto was so shocked he just stood there. A long while passed before he finally lowered his head and said, choked up, "I'll listen to you." Looking at how frightened he was, I hugged him. He was still only a child, still the kind who would cry when my voice turned too harsh.

But Hiroto, forgive your sister. When we are young and love wounds us, all we know how to do is run and hide, thinking that if we leave, it will all be over. Eight years earlier, Hiroto had been the only tie left binding me to this world. Now he had grown up, and his life was steady. I no longer had to stay at his side. In a single day I quit my job, packed my things, said goodbye to Hiroto, and boarded a train.

From then on, a new life waited ahead. The days I had lived before slipped backward with the moving train, section by section, and fell out of my life.

Tokyo is a big city. It does not have Osaka's noisy nightlife, but it has a rich culture underground.

After I reached Tokyo, I never again applied for all the messy jobs I had taken in Osaka. I knew Tokyo was even more dangerous. With the little money I had left, I rented a basement room and enrolled in shorthand classes. Whenever I had free time, I applied for clerical and odd jobs at cultural companies. Little by little, I changed from a girl who served tea and ran errands into a skilled typist. Every month, after sending Hiroto money for living expenses, I could even save a little more for certification exams. I resisted all the unfairness fate had given me with a stubborn kind of optimism. Sosuke, it wasn't long after I came to Tokyo that I stopped resenting the way you had once doubted me. We had both been too young, too quick to act on emotion, too eager to believe our own eyes and instincts. If I had been in your place, perhaps I would have doubted too. Only, in front of Hiroto, I did not want him to see me bend. Since we were children, I had always been the strong and reliable one in his eyes, so at the time I told myself that this blank stretch between us was simply a test heaven had given us. Once I had seen Hiroto through school and fulfilled the duty my parents left me with, I would go back to you clean and upright. During that time I would secretly look through the forums from your university and listen to people talk about you. They said you were young and accomplished. They said many girls liked you, but you never responded to any of them.

Everyone said you had started a company, that your standards were high, that you would never look twice at an ordinary girl. And it was true: your studio had already grown into a proper little company. For someone only a year out of school, it was practically a miracle. Because you had done it, people talked about you as if you were a god. They also said they had once seen a girl you liked. Every time you went out, that girl was with you. She liked to wear a red hat, and her height and looks suited yours perfectly.

From where I stood, I felt happy and sad at the same time. Two years passed. Hiroto graduated. On the phone, he told me awkwardly that a company had made him an offer. I said that was a good thing, that he should go intern there. After a pause, he added, "It's your company." I said, "So what?" He said, "Sis, I want to go to Tokyo and find you. Can we build our lives there from now on?" I let out a breath. "I haven't had Osaka skewers in a long time." Hiroto understood what I meant at once. "Sis," he said, "why don't you come back to Osaka for a look?" When my feet touched Osaka soil again, the whole thing felt unreal. Somehow, just like that, I was back, carrying a strange lightness in my body.

After two years away, Osaka looked exactly the same. Hiroto came to meet me. He took my bag for me and tugged lightly at my hair with a smile. "When did you curl it?"

"It doesn't look good?" I asked with a smile. "No," he said. "It looks even better. You have more charm now."

Hiroto still lived in the same old room. One of the panes in the window lattice had cracked. I asked why he had not replaced it, whether it was cold in winter. He only laughed and said a grown man was not afraid of the cold. After I washed off the dust of travel, I sat down at the computer while he went downstairs to buy food for me. Hiroto had left his LINE open. Someone had sent him a message. I clicked on it. I do not know whether it was fate or some joke heaven played, but I saw your name. You asked Hiroto, Have you thought it over? Will you come to my company? I stared at your icon for a long time, suddenly unable to breathe. While I said nothing, more messages from you appeared. Hiroto, it's been two years. Has Kaho still not forgiven me? I've searched all over Osaka. You lied to me. She isn't in Osaka anymore, is she? No matter where she is, tell her this for me: two years later, I want to apologize for the way I was two years ago. Even if I still don't know why that camera ended up in her bag, I believe her. I forced myself to steady my feelings and typed on the keyboard, Kamiya Sosuke, do you still remember me? I'm Shiraishi Kaho. But before I could send it, another message arrived. Hiroto, I know that because of that mistake, I've already lost her for this lifetime. Nene and I are about to get engaged. I only want to tell her I'm sorry in person. Can you tell me whether she's doing well?

Every word I had meant to say vanished back down my throat. My hands trembling, I opened your profile. There really were photographs there. During the two years I had been gone, there were pictures of you alone and pictures of you with someone else, probably the girl named Nene. The two of you were holding hands and smiling with dazzling sweetness. On her head was a bright red knit hat. At that moment I covered my mouth and broke into silent sobs. Just then Hiroto came back with the skewers he had bought me. He had only just stepped inside when his phone rang. He said a few words into it, lifted his head, saw me sitting at the computer, and answered in a quiet voice, "She's right here beside me. I'll let you talk to her."

When Hiroto held the phone out to me, I was completely unprepared. On the other end there was only silence and breathing. Finally, after a long, long time, I heard your low voice, shaking as it called out, "Kaho? Kaho?"

I made a sound in answer, but it came with a sob. I held a tissue to the tears running endlessly down my face and tried to steady my voice. You asked, "Are you all right?" I gave another small answer that meant yes.

Then you asked, "Will you come out and sit with me for a while?"

The two years had left very few marks on you. You were still the same bright-faced boy from before. Only now you were wearing a black suit, and you looked much more steady and mature than you once had.

The instant I saw you through the car window, my tears gathered on my lashes. Sosuke, you had a new life now. Hiroto had already told me. Your parents, in order to strengthen the company, had arranged a marriage for you. At first you resisted. But later, once you met that girl, you gradually accepted it. Because the first time you saw her, she too was wearing a red knit hat. Hiroto said your girlfriend had brows and eyes like mine. Sosuke, I no longer know why heaven keeps making me lose things again and again - the family I once had, and now you. But I do not resent its unfairness anymore, because it has also given me this body of iron and steel, enough to keep me from crying in the face of parting.

I told the taxi driver, "Let's go." Then I rolled up the window. Your straight-backed figure outside the coffee shop became an image I would remember forever. By the time you called, Hiroto and I had already reached the airport. The truth was, Hiroto had guessed I came back because of you. He had also guessed I was leaving because of you. He said he wanted to go to Tokyo with me. From then on, Osaka would become nothing more than a city I sometimes passed through. Apologetically, I said to you, "I'm sorry. My boyfriend is rushing me, so I can't come see you." There was a long sigh in your voice. "Kaho, I'm sorry. I really am." I smiled. "It's all right, Sosuke. It's all right. It's all right. No matter what you've done, I forgive you."

On the plane, I had just sat down when the girl in the seat ahead put her luggage away, turned around, saw me, and cried out in surprise, "Shiraishi Kaho?"

I looked at her pretty face uncertainly. "Do we know each other?" She reached for my hand with easy familiarity. "You forgot? Sosuke used to bring you along when he came out with us all the time."

"Oh. I see." I answered lightly. I had not expected that, in leaving, I would miss seeing you and end up seeing one of your friends instead.

The girl traded seats with the person next to me and sat down at my side. She was a little noisy. "After all these years, you still love wearing red hats. But only you can wear red in a way that looks both lonely and bright." I laughed. "What kind of description is that?" She burst out laughing too. "I asked Sosuke the same thing once. He insisted on it. That's just the kind of person he is."

She chattered on for a while, then suddenly asked in confusion, "Huh? What are you going to Tokyo for? Why isn't Sosuke with you?" When she saw that I said nothing, she realized at once that she had spoken badly and began apologizing.

I forced a smile. "It's fine." Then I asked her, "What are you going to Tokyo for?" "I'm transferring there for a flight to England. My heartless parents sent me abroad to study two years ago, so that's why you never saw me later."

Then she hesitated and looked at me. "Actually, Kaho... I owe you an apology."

I looked back at her, puzzled. I did not know what she could possibly be apologizing for. She lowered her head, bit her lip, then lifted her face again. "I used to be really jealous of you. Because I liked Sosuke, I did something awful. I was the one who made the two of you quarrel." I stared at her in surprise. She went on in a rush. "I took a friend's digital camera and slipped it into your bag on purpose so Sosuke would misunderstand you. Really. I'm so sorry. I was young and stupid then, and after that I suddenly went abroad, so I never had the chance to apologize." At that point Hiroto, sitting across the aisle, shot to his feet, fist raised, and said furiously, "So you're the one who let my sister be misunderstood for all this time!"

I hurriedly stood up and stopped him. The girl's eyes widened as she looked at me. Aggrieved, she said, "I'm sorry. I really didn't understand anything back then. I didn't do it on purpose."

A moment later she seemed to realize something else. Carefully, she asked, "Kaho... you and Sosuke didn't break up because of this, did you?"

Two years of grievance and misunderstanding rushed up like a tide. But by the time they reached my throat, they suddenly quieted and receded. In a hoarse voice I said, "It's all right. This isn't your fault. It isn't." Sosuke, was this heaven's punishment for how little we trusted each other? Was this truly the ending prepared for us?

The girl kept apologizing and swore again and again that the moment the plane landed, she would call you.

But when the plane touched down, I only tugged lightly at her hand and said, "If you want me to forgive you, it's simple. Never tell anyone else about this. Not ever." She looked at me in shock. Even though she did not understand, she still nodded solemnly. Tears welled up as she nodded. In a low voice she said, "Kaho, I'm sorry. I really didn't mean it. I made you lose your happiness."

I smiled bitterly. Happiness? Even when happiness passed near me, it had never once stayed. In that moment, the photographs from your profile flickered through my mind again one by one: your young face beside a girl in a red hat, her sweet smile, the easy closeness between you, the way you held one another.

Her brows and eyes were like mine. It was as if, standing at your side, she and you would make a perfect pair. But, Sosuke, I knew I could not be selfish. She was the one who had stayed with you through the years I left blank. Even if, at first, it was because of that red hat that you grew fond of her by association, what truly mattered were all the full and ordinary days you lived beside each other afterward. Quiet companionship is the only thing that is real. I have never been someone who understands love very well, but I do understand this: distance can breed longing, but it cannot keep love alive.

So, Sosuke, forgive me for this cowardice. I do not dare take two empty years and wager them against whatever happiness tomorrow might bring us. This happiness, arriving out of nowhere, offers me no path forward.

As Hiroto and I turned to say goodbye to the girl, tears blurred my eyes. Sosuke, Sosuke, let my tears be what sees you off on the road toward the happiness waiting for you. From here on, let her love you well for me. But, Sosuke, you must know that no one in this world hopes more fiercely than I do that you will be happy.

Even if, in the end, that happiness has no place for me.