“F-father has nothing to do with this!” Yuuto’s voice was a bit shrill. He seemed to dislike Kuroki. Kuroki nodded slightly, as if to say, “Is that so?” “Your cousin has already cut all ties to members of the Takatsuki family. There is no need for you to be meeting now. Wouldn’t it be better for you to go home early today? You have an appointment to go golfing with a client tomorrow.” Indirectly ordered to leave, Yuuto looked between Takatsuki and Kuroki. Takatsuki smiled at him. “Good night, Yuuto. I wish you and Mikako happiness.” “…Right. Thanks for today.” With that, Yuuto got in his car, as if he couldn’t get away from Kuroki fast enough. As he watched the car drive off, Takatsuki said to Kuroki, “Mr. Kuroki, if you only came to see how I am, could you leave already? As you can see, I’m the same as ever.” “What business did you have with Yuuto, sir?” Kuroki stood next to Takatsuki, also watching Yuuto’s car drive away. “It’s none of your concern, Mr. Kuroki. I was just consulting with him about something personal. It wasn’t regarding work.” “Oh? Don’t tell me you see Yuuto often?” “No. We hadn’t seen each other in about twenty years. You don’t have to worry, I usually have no contact with members of the Takatsuki family.” “I see, that’s good. I was simply a bit surprised that mediocre clone of his father would have any business with you now.” Kuroki’s smooth words were laced with venom, and Naoya looked at him in shock. Takatsuki glared at the man silently. Kuroki looked utterly unbothered by it. “Like his father, Yuuto is hopeless. Some say he could be a candidate company president someday, but unfortunately, he lacks both ability and charisma. He’s the poster child for how companies cannot run on lineage alone. You’re far superior to him, sir, so it truly is regrettable. If you were in the same position as he is now, his fiancée might have become yours.” “…If you have no business with me, please leave. Talking to you makes me feel sick.” Takatsuki’s voice was plain with disgust. Naoya didn’t know anyone other than Kuroki to whom Takatsuki behaved like this. It was only natural, he thought. He couldn’t understand Takatsuki’s father. Why would he put a man who was the embodiment of nastiness in charge of keeping tabs on Takatsuki? Every time Kuroki opened his mouth, Naoya couldn’t help but feel as though a dark blade was being swung in Takatsuki’s direction. This man had been like this the first time Naoya met him, and he was certain he had always and would always be this way. He just wanted Kuroki to leave already. “Ah, that reminds me, there is one thing I needed to speak with you about,” Kuroki said, taking something out of the bag he was carrying. He handed Takatsuki a plastic document sleeve with what looked like a flyer tucked inside. “This is an announcement for a photo exhibition. The exhibition will be held in Hatsudai for a week, starting tomorrow.” Takatsuki’s face stiffened as he took the flyer. The exhibition seemed to be by a photographer who had followed overseas ballet companies. There was a large photo printed on it of a ballerina in a white outfit and of a magnificent, palace-like building. Spotting the word “Takatsuki” on the flyer, Naoya gasped. His eyes strayed to the text printed on the paper. It was information about a talk show. “To commemorate this photo exhibition, we will be conducting a talk show with legendary prima ballerina, Sayaka Takatsuki.” Wasn’t that the name of Takatsuki’s mother? “What are you trying to say with this?” Takatsuki asked in a low voice. “I have no interest in ballet.” “I’m aware,” Kuroki replied. “This is a precautionary notice. Please be sure to stay away from the venue not just on the day of the talk show, but for the duration of the exhibition as well. This is to avoid any unnecessary commotion. You understand, I’m sure?” “…As if I need to be told.” Takatsuki gave one small puff of laughter. There were limits to how much Naoya could endure, and he never wanted to see Takatsuki laughing in that way. Before he knew it, Naoya had stepped forward to put himself between Takatsuki and Kuroki. “Um, could you please stop?” Behind him, he heard Takatsuki call in a startled voice, “Hold on, Fukamachi—!” But Naoya didn’t turn to look at him, instead replying inwardly with, Shut up, don’t say a word. He wanted to reprimand the professor, to tell him that he needed to stop laughing whenever something bad happened, that if he was going to laugh in such a self-abasing way, he might as well cry instead. Kuroki’s expression said that he was only just noticing Naoya now that he was standing in front of him. “…Ah. I believe you’re the student who was at his apartment before.” “Please leave now,” Naoya said, glaring at Kuroki. Kuroki’s eyes widened in mock surprise. “I don’t think a student should be interfering with adult matters.” “What ‘adult matters’?” Naoya growled. “You’re just trying to hurt Professor Takatsuki.” Kuroki chuckled. “I’m just trying to be considerate in my own way. I’m worried about your professor.” Naoya frowned at the distortion mingling in with his words. You liar, he thought. He wasn’t being considerate at all. He wasn’t worried a bit about Takatsuki. “Consideration is what people do when they care about others, even just a little bit… You don’t care one bit about Professor Takatsuki, do you?” “That’s not true. He is President Takatsuki’s son, after all.” Kuroki’s eyes narrowed. “I want him to keep quiet, not get in the way of his father, not cause any trouble, and live his life in such a way that doesn’t involve the company or the Takatsuki family… That’s all I’m asking.” Such were Kuroki’s true feelings, without a trace of untruth or exaggeration. Naoya knew it with certainty. When was the last time he had seriously wanted to punch someone? Naoya’s body moved before he could think. It all happened without his being conscious of it—his foot stepped forward, his arm raised, his fist clenched. Naoya hadn’t realized he held such violence inside him. All he wanted was to hit the other man until his face was crushed in. Kuroki looked shocked. He took a quick step back, and Naoya advanced forward again, aiming for the man’s head. But then he felt an arm holding him back firmly from behind. It was Takatsuki. He had Naoya in a headlock and was not curbing his strength. At that point, between the differences in their physiques and their pure physical power, there was nothing Naoya could do. He tried to shout at Takatsuki, demanding to know what he was doing, but all that came out was a strangled groan. Even so, Naoya thrashed in his grip, refusing to give up. Still holding Naoya back, Takatsuki addressed Kuroki. “Good night, Mr. Kuroki. I’d appreciate it if you could stay out of my sight for a while.” For a few long moments, Kuroki stared at the two of them. And then—he burst out laughing. “…Good night, sir. I’m glad you have such an adorable guard dog.” Still laughing, Kuroki turned on his heel. Even once he had turned a corner and disappeared from sight, Takatsuki kept holding on to Naoya. Perhaps he thought Naoya would chase after Kuroki and punch him. Struggling in his arms like a child, Naoya cried out. “…Why?! Why’d you do that?!” “Why? Because I can’t let you get caught red-handed committing assault.” “Why didn’t you stop him from talking to you like that?! You haven’t done anything wrong!” “…Because I don’t personally have anything to back up that assertion,” Takatsuki muttered from behind Naoya’s ear. The heaviness in his voice made Naoya hold his breath. “Listen, Fukamachi, I still don’t know the circumstances of my disappearance. Even if someone kidnapped me, that doesn’t rule out my own will or negligence being a factor. Besides, it’s indisputable that I’m the one who broke my mother. I’m the one who destroyed our family.” Takatsuki kept his hold on Naoya the whole time he spoke. Was that why he hadn’t said anything back to Kuroki? Was his demeanor, which was so unlike him, the result of his feeling guilty? Had Takatsuki been living his life this entire time feeling that way? But, but that’s—that’s wrong. Because— “It wasn’t your fault, Professor!” “I’m telling you, we don’t know that.” “You’re wrong…! I’m sure of it! It’s not true!” Naoya shouted, and it was like the rage that had built up in his throat was spewing forth. Suddenly, Takatsuki’s arms loosened. Naoya shook Takatsuki off immediately and rounded on him, wanting to smack him across the face instead. And there he saw a smile on Takatsuki’s face that he hadn’t seen many times before. Lips pursed, the corners of his mouth were slightly downturned, as though he was restraining himself from something. His gently narrowed eyes, however, were lit with a warm glow… His smile looked troubled, but he also looked just a little like he was trying to hold back tears. “…Ugh. Good grief, you’re such a handful.” Unexpectedly, Takatsuki reached out a hand and put it on Naoya’s head. And then he started petting Naoya’s hair, aggressively ruffling it in the process. “H-hey! What are you doing? Seriously, knock it off!” “Bear with it. I just really feel like doing this right now.” “You ‘just feel like’ it…?” With his head being pressed down, Naoya couldn’t see Takatsuki’s face. When he tried to escape, Takatsuki only pressed down harder, obstinately stroking his head. His hand moved just like he was petting a dog. Come to think of it, Kuroki had called Naoya a guard dog. Naoya thought Takatsuki was already enough like a dog for the both of them, though. “…You’ve changed, you know?” he heard Takatsuki say. “Since we came back from Nagano. The fact that I’ve forgotten the events that changed you like that… I really can’t stand it.” With that, Takatsuki patted Naoya’s head one more time. The following day, Saturday, Naoya headed to Shinjuku before noon. He was planning on seeing a movie. But when he got to the small theater he often went to near the southeast exit of the station, he realized there was still a lot of time before the next movie screening. Thinking he should have checked the showtimes before coming, he walked over to Books Kinokuniya. He wandered around the bookstore aimlessly for a while, bought two paperbacks, and had lunch at a curry shop in the belowground level. After that, he headed back to ground level, navigating the crowds and passing right by the movie theater. He went up the stairs at the southeast exit and came out onto the road along Kōshū Kaidō. He was content with buying the books and no longer felt like watching a movie. That was what Naoya told himself as he kept walking. Intending to go on a light stroll, he made his way along Kōshū Kaidō in the direction of the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building. The curry he had just eaten was sitting heavy in his stomach, so he was in the mood to walk a little. That was all. After walking twenty minutes from Shinjuku Station, he was in Hatsudai. Realizing at that point that he had run out of any excuses, Naoya glared ahead at the large, towering building complex. It appeared to be called Tokyo Opera City. Along with restaurants and offices, the building contained cultural facilities such as playhouses and concert halls. The photo exhibition was being held in a gallery on the third floor. The talk show Takatsuki’s mother would be on was at two PM that day. Naoya himself wasn’t sure why he had bothered to come all the way here. He was aware that he was intruding too much into Takatsuki’s privacy. This wasn’t something he needed to know, and Takatsuki probably wouldn’t be too happy if he found out. Still, just once, Naoya wanted to see what Takatsuki’s mother looked like. He had heard stories about her from various people. From what he had gleaned, she was like a tragic heroine, but she also seemed to be a very selfish person. It was said she had once utterly broken down, but now she was appearing on a talk show. As Yuuto had mentioned, she must have recovered. What would she look like now? Naoya wanted to know. But when he was actually at the gallery entrance, Naoya felt a powerful urge to turn and run. Maybe he shouldn’t be doing this after all, he thought. He was disgusted with himself for being driven by such vulgar curiosity. There were flowers displayed at the entrance and a small signboard announcing the talk show. Naoya could hear people talking on a microphone from inside the gallery. He checked the clock to see that it was shortly after two o’clock. The show must have already started. Inside, that very moment, Takatsuki’s mother was speaking. That thought made him lose his nerve even more. Plus, Naoya wondered what he would do if he ran into Kuroki. He didn’t think the odds were high, but they weren’t nonexistent, either. If he found Naoya hanging around here, he would probably go to Takatsuki’s place and say something nasty to him, right on the heels of the day before. I can’t, Naoya thought. I’m going home. Just as he was about to turn and go, someone grabbed him firmly by the shoulder from behind. Startled, Naoya turned his head. “—What’s this? What a coincidence! It’s been a while, kiddo.” A thin man with a stubbly face stood there, his overly familiar words reeking of cigarette smoke. For a moment, Naoya wondered who the hell he was, but then his disheveled hair and shady-looking sunglasses rang a bell. It was Iinuma. The man introduced himself as a freelance journalist, but he was basically just a reporter who penned trashy articles for gossip mags about celebrity affairs and such. The first time Naoya had met him, in fact, was when Takatsuki had accepted a case from an actress. The last time they’d come across Iinuma was on a trip to Yamanashi. As a result of diving into freezing cold water to save Takatsuki, who had fallen over a waterfall, Iinuma had caught a terrible cold and been taken to the hospital by Sasakura. “…So you’re still alive?” “That’s the first thing you say to me? That’s cold! I sure am alive, though I was laid up in the hospital with pneumonia for a while. Speaking of, you guys were a bit heartless, don’t ya think? I got pneumonia because I saved Professor Takatsuki. I’m a lifesaver, so to speak. Normally you’d come visit with a big fruit basket and bow your heads in thanks, y’know? But you guys left me behind and just went back to Tokyo!” Iinuma was as insincere and chatty as ever. Naoya brushed his hand away. “You did help the professor, that’s true, but then you almost ended up drowning along with him, and Mr. Sasakura saved you.” “No, no, I’m pretty sure that prof would have died if I hadn’t jumped in first and grabbed him! But anyway, forget about that. What’s up, kiddo, did you come here to see the photo exhibition?” Suddenly, Iinuma leaned in close and grinned. Naoya glared back at him. “What about you? Are you still investigating the professor?” The reason Iinuma had originally started skulking around Takatsuki was because Takatsuki’s father had pressured a magazine into suppressing a tabloid photo of Takatsuki together with an actress. After that, Iinuma had started investigating the professor, hoping to write an article about the truth behind his being spirited away, sniffing around in this and that like he had a grudge. Naoya hadn’t seen the man in a while, so he had figured he’d given up already, but apparently not. Iinuma shrugged. “I’m a busy guy, y’know. It’s not like I’m constantly looking into him. But my journalist’s intuition tells me there’s something up with that teacher. I’m not gonna ignore the chance to gather info. If you wanna see the exhibition, kiddo, I’ve got a free ticket. I got it through some connections. I’ll give it to you.” “I don’t need it. I’m going home now.” “Aw, come on, don’t be like that. Let’s get along!” “W-wait a minute!” Grabbing Naoya by the shoulders, Iinuma steered them quickly toward the entrance. He waved his ticket at the receptionist, as if flaunting it, and dragged Naoya into the gallery. The gallery was divided into a maze of photo panels. There weren’t many visitors, perhaps because the talk show had already started. In the big, blown-up photographs, foreign ballet dancers were striking various poses. Their outstretched arms were elegant, their backs gently arched, their legs unbelievably high reaching. As they leaped through the air, their flexing muscles cast sharp shadows in the black-and-white pictures. Naoya didn’t know much about ballet, but it was hard for him to imagine the ballet dancers as being human just as he was. It was like he was looking at much freer, fiercer creatures. “Now where is this talk show happening? Where is Mama Sayaka?” Iinuma went deeper and deeper into the exhibition, barely sparing a glance for the photos on display. Dragged along after him, Naoya stiffened as the voices on the microphones got ever closer. A calm male voice was coming from the other side of the panels. A soft, clear female voice was answering him. “Yes, that’s right. It’s been a long time since I danced, but—” No. I can’t do this. I need to leave now. But heedless of Naoya’s thoughts, Iinuma held his shoulders even tighter, surging forward. Eventually, the panels came to an abrupt stop, and the view opened up. They had arrived at the talk show venue. “—Look, kiddo,” Iinuma whispered in his ear. “That’s your professor’s mom.” For a moment, Naoya stopped breathing. It wasn’t a very large space. There were probably fewer than twenty chairs lined up for the audience to use. There were some spectators standing, too. Iinuma stepped into the venue with Naoya in tow, blending into the standing-room-only crowd. Naoya stared, dazed, at the two conversing speakers sitting in their own chairs in front of the audience. One of them was likely the photographer. He was a sturdy man of about fifty, dressed casually in a T-shirt and jeans. And the other was—a very beautiful woman with soft-looking light-brown hair that hung down around her shoulders. Her slender, long-limbed body was clad in an elegant beige dress. Every time the photographer spoke to her, she would put a delicate hand to her mouth and smile softly or answer in a clear voice. That was Sayaka Takatsuki. “She seems young… She’s gotta be in her sixties already. What, does she drink the blood of virgins or something?” Iinuma muttered. Takatsuki’s mother would be around that age, but perhaps because they were looking at her from a distance, she didn’t appear that old at all. Her beautiful features were really very similar to Takatsuki’s. Enough that it was quite clear she was his mother. “I still can’t forget your performance of Giselle,” Naoya heard the photographer say to Sayaka. “You were so lovely and light that I thought, Wow, she really is a fairy. I thought I’d be able to see Sayaka Takatsuki perform for a long time to come, but you retired so early. To be honest, it was a shock. I heard you had injured your leg, but I was surprised that you completely retired from the ballet world afterward. Didn’t you miss it at all?” “I got married soon after that,” Sayaka replied with a bashful smile. “It’s not that I didn’t feel any attachment to ballet but that my love for my husband was greater than that… When you’re doing ballet, you know, you end up being away from home a lot. But it was indeed a surprise to me, too, that I would find happiness in becoming a wife and a mother.” Naoya stared blankly at her smile. This woman spoke of her family with the same face as Takatsuki. As she smiled happily. “But when I held my newborn son in my arms, I realized I would live my life protecting him. At that moment, I knew I would never be Giselle again.” There was not the slightest distortion in her voice, but hearing it made something in Naoya’s chest creak. After that, the talk show went on to discuss overseas ballet performances and life in a ballet company, before eventually coming to an end. As the audience applauded, Sayaka and the photographer stood up, bowed slightly, and headed toward the back to make their exit. At that moment, Iinuma made his move. Naoya struggled in his grip, but Iinuma had his arm in one hand and dragged him forward, pushing other audience members aside to chase after Sayaka. “Mrs. Sayaka Takatsuki! Hello! I was so moved by the talk show just now!” Sayaka, who was about to leave, turned around in surprise when she heard her name called loudly. In his brightly patterned shirt and sunglasses, Iinuma stood out clearly among the gallery guests. A woman who seemed to be an attendant spoke to him with a blatant frown on her face. “Pardon me, you can’t do that. Please step back.” “I mean, especially the part about retiring from ballet and realizing the love you had for your family? That was great! I was so touched that I cried!” Ignoring the attendant trying to keep him away, Iinuma moved even closer to Sayaka, who looked at him with wide eyes. Then, however, she smiled politely. “Thank you very much. But I am a little sorry for talking so much about my family. I’m sure everyone wanted to hear more about ballet.” “No, no, no, that kind of stuff is just what I wanted to hear! It really struck a chord! So—Sayaka, do you still have a close relationship with your son?” Iinuma grinned broadly. Taken aback, Naoya grabbed ahold of Iinuma’s clothes. Iinuma shook him off, annoyed, and asked yet another question. “Your son, how is he doing?” The soft smile Sayaka had been wearing suddenly faded. A shadow fell over her dark-brown eyes. With a sad smile, she said, “Well—my son disappeared when he was a child.” Naoya’s eyes widened, and he stared at Sayaka, who continued. “The truth is, we still haven’t found my son… I still believe that he will come back someday.” At that moment, something inside Naoya once again creaked jarringly. The female attendant urged Sayaka farther back. Sayaka gave a slight bow to Iinuma, then looked at Naoya’s face with a somewhat curious look in her eyes before taking her leave. Iinuma saw her off, ripped his sunglasses from his face, and clicked his tongue. “…The hell? She wouldn’t be joking about that, right?” Turning to look at Naoya, he nudged him roughly with an elbow. “And what’s with that look on your face, kid? You know something, don’t you? Come on, tell me. I’d like to hear it.” Naoya looked down without saying a word and shook his head. He simply started heading for the exit. Iinuma followed, but every time he tried to grab Naoya by the arm or shoulder, he shook him off, hurrying out of the gallery. Sayaka had seemed normal. There hadn’t been anything strange about her. And yet, even now, she was living in a fantasy world. In that world, her son had been kidnapped at the age of twelve and had never returned. The more she turned her eyes away from reality, the more cruelly the world around her distorted. Takatsuki, living in the real world, still didn’t exist to her. It was on Monday morning that Yuuto contacted Takatsuki to say that Mikako had disappeared. Late Monday afternoon, as Naoya was headed to the professor’s office to return a book he had borrowed, he ran into Takatsuki just as the other man was about to head out somewhere and heard about the situation. “It seems he can’t get in touch with Miss Mikako at all.” Yuuto had called Mikako on Saturday night, but she hadn’t answered. He’d left a message on her answering machine but never heard back. He had called again on Sunday afternoon, but Mikako still didn’t answer. That evening, he’d gone straight to her apartment, but there was no response when he rang the intercom, and when he checked from the outside, there were no lights on in her apartment. At that point, Yuuto had tried casually checking in with her family, thinking she might have gone home, but Mikako hadn’t been there. Monday morning, as a last resort, Yuuto had tried calling the English conversation school he knew Mikako attended. Nearly mistaken for a stalker, all Yuuto had managed to get out of the school was that Mikako had an unexcused absence that day. And so, at his wit’s end, Yuuto had contacted Takatsuki. Takatsuki had briefly returned to his office to explain everything to Naoya. As he was about to leave again, he said, “I don’t have any more lectures today, so I thought I’d go look for her, too. Ah, you don’t have to come, of course, Fukamachi. This has nothing to do with the investigation at this point—Fukamachi?” Takatsuki had turned to stare at Naoya, who had instinctively grabbed him by the arm to stop him. Naoya stared up at him. “I don’t think you should get involved in anything concerning Miss Mikako anymore, Professor.” “…I’m afraid that’s not an option.” “Don’t you think this should be left to Yuuto, Mikako’s family, and the police?! There’s no need for you to go. You remember how you almost collapsed, right?” “I remember. But it’ll be too late by the time something happens, and it’s possible that something is already happening,” Takatsuki replied, his face serious. “Or rather, by the time this issue came to me, it may already have been well past its starting point.” “Huh?” “I should have pointed it out to Yuuto sooner,” he muttered, stroking his chin lightly. Just as Naoya was about to ask what he meant, there was a knock on the office door. Takatsuki, who usually responded right away, for some reason immediately stopped talking and stared at the door. The person on the other side knocked again. “…Come in,” Takatsuki called out, and the office door opened from the outside. Standing there—was Mikako. She was wearing a wine-red dress and carrying a shoulder bag. Her heavy black hair framed her face, and her large almond-shaped eyes glittered with heat. Almost instinctively afraid of her face, Naoya grabbed on to Takatsuki’s arm again. For some reason, he felt he had to keep the professor away from her. But Takatsuki plucked Naoya’s hand off his arm and took a step forward. “Ah, it’s a good thing I didn’t leave… Well, I had a feeling you might come to see me, somehow.” “Tengu-sama,” Mikako said. Her voice was like a sweet poison. “I’ve always adored you, Tengu-sama. Ever since we met as children. You’re the only one who understands me.” Her gaze full of fixation, Mikako threw herself at Takatsuki. So thin that it was evident even through her clothes, her arms twined around his back, snakelike. Takatsuki didn’t resist her, but he didn’t return her embrace, either. He spoke in a quiet voice, looking into space rather than at the woman clinging to his body. “Indeed. I did meet you a long time ago. At a tea party my mother held in our garden.” The look in Takatsuki’s eyes as he stared into the distance was the one he wore when he was replaying memories of the past. The scenery he was gazing at now was that of a tea party held in the garden of his home more than twenty years before. “Tea, sandwiches, and sweets were laid out on a large white table. The adults were chatting happily, but you were sitting quietly, looking bored and eating snacks. Eventually, you got up from your chair and walked by yourself to a flower bed in the garden. I had more or less finished listening to all of the ladies’ concerns, so I followed you.” “That’s right, Tengu-sama! So you remembered me after all!” Mikako hugged Takatsuki tighter and tighter, sounding pleased. “Yes. I remember you. But I don’t know your name.” Finally, Takatsuki moved. He unwound her arms from his body and grabbed them with both of his hands instead. Returning his vision from scenes of the past to the present happening right before his eyes, Takatsuki peered down at Mikako’s face. “You’re not Miss Mikako, are you?” Naoya was confused by his words. Mikako didn’t reply. She simply looked up at Takatsuki, her eyes brimming with even more passion than before. Takatsuki continued. “Miss Mikako came to my mother’s tea parties several times. She was always holding a teddy bear in her arms. She was always doted on by the surrounding adults. That day—you didn’t have a teddy bear, but all the adults thought you were Miss Mikako. And you didn’t deny it. I thought that was strange. After all, you weren’t the same girl. That’s why I followed you to the flower beds and asked you who you were.” “Yes… Yes, that’s right. That’s exactly right, Tengu-sama.” Tears had welled up in Mikako’s burning gaze and began to spill over. Naoya looked at her and then at Takatsuki. “Professor, then… This person is Miss Mikako’s…?” “That’s right, Fukamachi,” Takatsuki said. “She’s Miss Mikako’s twin sister. I’m not sure which is the elder sister, though. I never got to ask her name back then. A bird flew out from under the shade of a tree in the garden, unluckily, and I collapsed.” That was how she had known about his fear of birds. This woman, with a face identical to Mikako’s, gazed up at Takatsuki with tears streaming down her face. “My name is Yuriko… I’m Mikako’s younger sister.” Naoya recalled Yuuto saying that Mikako’s younger sister was studying abroad. But that didn’t make sense. Why didn’t Yuuto recognize Yuriko? “I’m…defective. That’s why I’ve been hidden away so people won’t have to see me.” Yuriko continued to cry. “Is that because of what’s on your shoulder?” Takatsuki asked. “At first…probably. But I don’t think it was only that.” Mikako and Yuriko were identical twins. Everything about them should have been the same. Their faces, their voices, everything, like they were reflections of each other. But there was a single difference between them. Yuriko was born with an unsightly growth on her shoulder. The doctor explained it was an abnormality that occurred in the womb. For some reason or another, the amniotic membrane must have torn off and adhered to that spot. It could have resulted in a much more serious impairment, so they were lucky it only ended up being as bad as it was. Naturally, her parents sought treatment. They consulted the doctor about whether something like surgery could be done for it. Yuriko, however, was prone to keloids, and even if the abnormality was removed through surgery, there was a possibility that the operation scar left behind would be even larger. Shaking his head, the doctor had told them he didn’t recommend surgery. “It didn’t really bother me much when I was little. But when I got a little older, when I was with other children in kindergarten… All of the other kids pointed at my shoulder and said it was gross. Mikako protected me and yelled at them on my behalf, but I sobbed and blamed her. I asked why she wasn’t the same as me, when we were twins, why she had such beautiful shoulders… Mikako tried comforting me with an awkward look on her face, but that’s when I realized. We’re twins who look exactly alike, like looking in a mirror, except I’m the one who’s the reflection. Mikako is the real one, and I’m her mirror image. On top of that, the mirror is distorted.” That idea took root deep, deep within Yuriko. Eventually, she began to shut herself away in her room. She said she didn’t want to go to kindergarten, and when she was forced to go anyway, she would curl up in a corner by herself. She started to dislike talking to people and stayed perpetually silent, with a gloomy expression. After all, Mikako was the real article. As long as Mikako was around, there was no need for Yuriko. In contrast to her sister, Mikako grew up to have a bright and carefree personality. At a loss for how to deal with Yuriko, their parents began to dote entirely on Mikako. Mikako alone continued to pay attention to Yuriko; everyone else left her almost entirely alone. It’s said that twins are the same at the genetic level. But ultimately, a person’s circumstances were what made them who they were. Although their faces remained identical, everything else about the girls had inexorably diverged. “It was only Mikako who was brought to your tea parties, Tengu-sama. But one day, Mikako came to me and said she’d come up with a great prank. She said I would pretend to be her and go to the tea party, that there were lots of delicious sweets to eat, so it would be nice if I got to go, too… I had also heard about Tengu-sama from Mikako, and I had sort of wanted to meet you. So I put on Mikako’s nice dress and pretended to be her and went to the tea party.” Before Yuriko had gone, her sister had told her she had to act like her or it wouldn’t work. In front of the dresser in her childhood room, Mikako had helped Yuriko get dressed, combed her hair and put a ribbon in it, and pointed to the mirror, saying, “Look.” “We’re so alike,” she had said. “Now, smile. If you do, no one will notice.” Those words were like magic. Reflected together in the mirror, Mikako and Yuriko had indeed switched places. Wearing a smile like Mikako always did, Yuriko had left the room, and when she tried hugging her mother, her mother was readily convinced that she was Mikako. The spell Mikako had cast was perfect. At the tea party, everyone thought Yuriko was Mikako and doted on her. But before long, she grew bored listening to the adults’ chatter. She’d eaten too many sweets, and her stomach was full. So Yuriko had gotten up from the table by herself. Drawn to a butterfly flapping around the garden, she had walked toward the flower beds. It was there that Tengu-sama had asked her, “Who are you?” It had shocked her. Mikako’s spell was perfect, after all. “It was only you. Only you could tell who I was. You didn’t see Mikako; you saw me. Ah…do you understand? How happy I was at that moment? Only Tengu-sama looked straight at me, the fake reflected in the distorted mirror, the unnecessary one! That was the moment I realized that Tengu-sama’s clairvoyance was real!” “You’re wrong, Miss Yuriko. I’m not at all clairvoyant.” Yuriko’s voice trembled when she spoke, and Takatsuki responded to her, his tone cold. “All I did back then was pay attention. Your faces were the same, but your typical mannerisms were different from Miss Mikako’s. Miss Mikako was the type to never put down her teddy bear, but you didn’t have one. Also, Miss Mikako had a habit of picking up the crumbs that had fallen onto the tablecloth one by one and arranging them in a row. You didn’t do that… All I was doing was watching.” “There, so you were looking at me after all!” Yuriko laughed with delight, utterly missing the point with her response. “I wanted to go to another tea party in Mikako’s place, but soon after that, I heard that Tengu-sama’s tea parties were canceled because Auntie Takatsuki had fallen ill. It was such a shame.” That was most likely because Takatsuki had quit being the Tengu’s Child. The tea parties for Tengu-sama were never held again. Yuriko grew up without ever meeting Tengu-sama a second time. The growth on her shoulder changed shape little by little as her body grew. It stretched out, beginning to resemble a human face in a way, and even Yuriko found it creepy. Her dislike of being around others and her preference for being alone only grew as she went through elementary, middle, and high school. Mikako, on the other hand, made a lot of friends and became a cheerful, sociable person. As before, Yuriko was only a distorted shadow reflected in a mirror. And then as an adult, an incident occurred that made Yuriko realize that fact all the more clearly. When Mikako returned from studying abroad, their parents suddenly told Yuriko to study abroad as well. “I had no interest in studying abroad. I’d practiced English conversation through school, so I could speak it, to some extent, but I never thought of becoming an interpreter like Mikako. And yet I was forced to quit my job and study abroad.” It soon became clear why that was. An arranged marriage proposal had been made for Mikako. Yuriko had the same face as Mikako, and they were the same age. It shouldn’t have been a problem. But their parents hid Yuriko. They sent her overseas, as if they had no such daughter. Solely because Yuriko was defective. “I kept in contact with Mikako even after I went abroad. She told me about the arranged meeting, and when I heard the other party’s surname was Takatsuki, I couldn’t contain myself. I knew he wasn’t Tengu-sama, but still, my heart fluttered… I came back to Japan without telling a soul and met with Mikako.” Mikako worried over Yuriko, who had become thin from the stress of studying abroad. Yuriko heard from Mikako all about her fiancé. What kind of person he was, what they called each other, where they went on dates, what they talked about. She listened to it all in detail. “That was to take Miss Mikako’s place, I assume?” Takatsuki asked. Yuriko merely nodded. “As we were talking, I saw us reflected in the mirror in the room. I had lost a little weight, but our faces were still the same. The magic could still work, I thought… It fooled Yuuto. That man must not love Mikako all that much after all.” Yuriko snickered. The diamond engagement ring that Yuuto had given Mikako shone on her left hand. As he looked at the ring, a chill ran down Naoya’s spine. If Yuriko had swapped places with Mikako—then where was Mikako now? “Yuuto is also from the Takatsuki family, so I figured he would at least be able to contact Tengu-sama. But if he was going to do that, he would need to have something special to consult about. Something difficult that he couldn’t bring to just anyone… When I met with Mikako, I got a little injured. I fell on top of a broken wineglass and cut my shoulder. At that moment, I thought, Ah, I have just the thing right here. This can be what he consults with him about. When Yuuto told me later that Tengu-sama was teaching folklore at a university, I was so excited, I could have shaken out of my skin! What more appropriate consultation topic could there be than a human-faced tumor? Hee-hee-hee. It was the first time this thing came in useful!” Yuriko looked down at her own shoulder happily, noting cheerfully that even such things could happen. Naoya, however, had stopped really listening to her talk about halfway through the story. A broken wineglass. Yuriko had fallen on top of one. It seemed as though there had been a struggle between her and Mikako, and Naoya could not help but imagine the worst. Was it possible that Mikako was no longer in this world? Could Yuriko have killed her and taken the engagement ring from her finger? Holding on to Yuriko’s arms as if he was arresting her, Takatsuki stared down at her with a rigid expression. Unheeding of that, Yuriko went on talking proudly. “I begged him while crying, and Yuuto really did get in touch with Tengu-sama for me. And then he brought you to me. At first, you couldn’t quite tell me apart from Mikako, and I was a little shocked… But you are Tengu-sama, all the same. In the end, you realized that I wasn’t Mikako!” The feverish gaze Yuriko looked up at Takatsuki with made Naoya utterly horrified. Yuriko had only met Takatsuki one time, when she was very young, no less. Had she really been thinking about him ever since? Was that why, more than twenty years later, she had come all the way here in pursuit of Takatsuki? Had she even gone as far as to sacrifice her own twin sister? One of Takatsuki’s lectures came to mind. It was about women who pursue and the fear they inspired. At the time, Takatsuki had said such things were the result of a patriarchal society. For men, the oppressors, it was terrifying when women, the oppressed, exposed their selfishness and obsession, he had said. But even without that reasoning, this bizarre preoccupation, with no thought for the consequences, could only be frightening. A woman pursuing someone with dreadful dedication was, in and of itself, terrifying. Then— Takatsuki let out a single sigh. “Ah…I see. So that’s how it is.” Yuriko blinked in confusion. Takatsuki, looking as though he had finally understood, stared down at her. “This entire time, I didn’t understand. Why had you changed places with Miss Mikako?” Gently, Takatsuki released Yuriko’s arms, which he had been holding on to all the while. Instead, he took Yuriko’s left hand and raised it. A diamond ring sparkled on her ring finger. Looking closely, it was evident to him that the ring was the wrong size. Mikako’s ring was slightly loose on Yuriko’s thin finger. “Even if you became Miss Mikako, the one you’d marry would be Yuuto, not me. Besides, if you just wanted to use Yuuto to get to me, there was no need for you to impersonate Miss Mikako. You could simply have gotten Miss Mikako to ask Yuuto for you. So why did you deliberately appear before me as Miss Mikako?” Takatsuki looked down sadly at the ring. “You just wanted me to tell you apart again—didn’t you? To tell the difference between you and Miss Mikako?” In that moment, looking up at Takatsuki, Yuriko’s face crumpled. In a heartbeat, her face had contorted like a child’s on the brink of tears. A long, lingering cry escaped from between her slightly parted lips. “…B-because…” Her face screwed up like a five-year-old’s, and large tears trailed down Yuriko’s cheeks. “Because…not even…my parents…noticed. Only you…noticed… Tengu-sama.” —That day, at the tea party at the Takatsuki household. Everyone had thought Yuriko was Mikako. And Yuriko had tried her hardest to imitate her sister. She acted more cheerful than usual and smiled adorably at those around her. And yet it was Takatsuki alone who had realized that it wasn’t Mikako who was there, but Yuriko. “I felt like…the world changed…at that moment… It was like a miracle.” Only Takatsuki had seen Yuriko, who was practically invisible. That miraculous moment was burned into her mind. She had lived her life holding that single moment inside her heart. Yuriko embraced Takatsuki again. Wrapping her thin arms around him, she cried out in a pleading tone. “Tengu-sama. Please, look at me and only at me. Please grant my wish! Let’s have another tea party with Auntie Takatsuki! And let’s repeat that moment and live in it happily! Forever and ever and always!” Once again, Takatsuki did not return Yuriko’s hug. He merely unwound her arms slowly, put his hands on her shoulders, and spoke. “Ah, there was something else I didn’t understand, but just now I’ve figured it out… I can’t comprehend it, though.” “Tengu-sama…?” Yuriko looked up at him. Meeting her gaze, Takatsuki continued. “I’ve wondered this entire time what you were planning to do after I recognized that you weren’t Miss Mikako… You thought that if you met with me, I’d find you, like a prince in a fairy tale, and fall in love with you at first sight, didn’t you? But that’s no more than a fantasy that suits only you.” “Tengu-sama—” Yuriko began to speak, but Takatsuki cut her off with a shake of his head and said firmly, “I can’t be with someone who calls me Tengu-sama.” Placing a hand on one of Yuriko’s cheeks, Takatsuki peered closely into her eyes. The gesture looked just as if he was about to kiss her, but it wasn’t going to happen the way Yuriko wished. Reality wouldn’t end with “the prince kissed the princess, and they lived happily ever after.” “I decided a long time ago to exist as a human. Not as a tengu. I wanted to be with people who allowed me to be human. So I cannot be with you. I’m truly sorry, but I’m not the person you’re looking for, and you’re not the one I want, either.” Still gazing into her eyes, Takatsuki spoke as if trying to reason with her. Yuriko had been looking up at Takatsuki blankly, as if not understanding what he was saying. Then, all at once, comprehension dawned in her gaze. In that moment, her face froze. “…” With a smack, Yuriko batted Takatsuki’s hand away. Staggering backward, she reached into her shoulder bag. The thing she took out of it was—a paring knife. “Miss Yuriko.” Takatsuki pushed Naoya farther back into the room, reaching out toward a nearby bookshelf. Yuriko, her expression unmoving, pointed the knife at Takatsuki. “Tengu-sama.” She called out to him, the tip of the knife trembling. “Tengu-sama… That was a lie, wasn’t it? Tengu-sama wouldn’t say such a thing.” “Miss Yuriko. I am not Tengu-sama.” “Tengu-sama grants everyone’s wishes, and—” “Such a being never existed in the first place.” “—he loves…me…” The tears running down Yuriko’s cheeks fell to the floor. Suddenly, Yuriko bit her lip. She thrust the knife at Takatsuki while, almost simultaneously, Takatsuki held up in front of himself a file that he had grabbed from the bookshelf. The blade slid along the surface of the file, and a surprised Yuriko tried to draw her hand back. Before she could, however, Takatsuki had grabbed ahold of her wrist and twisted. With a cry, Yuriko dropped the knife. With her arm still twisted in his grip, Takatsuki asked, “Miss Yuriko, where is Miss Mikako?” “I don’t…know…” Her voice was distorted. “Is Miss Mikako safe?” “I don’t know… No, she’s not alive anymore. I killed her!” Yuriko’s voice creaked and warped violently. Takatsuki glanced at Naoya, who was covering his ears, and let out a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness…Miss Mikako is okay.” Yuriko looked up at him, her face blotchy from crying. Lowering her twisted arm, Takatsuki helped her gently into a chair. Perhaps no longer possessing the energy to fight, Yuriko covered her face with both hands and began to sob quietly. Noticing blood flowing from Takatsuki’s fingers, Naoya startled. “Professor, you—” “Hmm…? Oh, I miscalculated a little just now, with the file.” He licked lightly at the cuts running diagonally across his index and middle fingers. That didn’t stop the bleeding, of course, so Takatsuki took out a handkerchief and applied pressure to the wounds. He then stooped down slightly to be at eye level with Yuriko, who was hunched over in her chair. “Miss Yuriko, where is Miss Mikako now?” Still covering her face, Yuriko shook her head. “I told you. Mikako is already dead. I killed her.” “That’s a lie. I may not have clairvoyance, but I know that you didn’t kill Miss Mikako and that you actually know where she is.” “How do you know that?” “Well, that’s… How, indeed?” Chuckling, Takatsuki looked at Naoya. Feeling as though he was being used for his ability, Naoya dropped his hands from his ears. Although as far as he was concerned, Takatsuki could use him for his ability all he wanted. That’s what Naoya was here for, after all. “I’m no tengu, so all I can do is speculate, but I think the fact that you didn’t kill Miss Mikako is worth noting. I expect you could have killed her if you had wanted to, because I imagine that when the two of you met up, you were alone. But you didn’t do it… Isn’t that because Miss Mikako is someone you wouldn’t be able to kill even if you wanted to?” From behind the hands Yuriko was using to shield her face, they could hear her sniffling. Takatsuki looked down at the blood from his fingers that was soaking through his handkerchief with an uninterested expression. “You said I was the only one who looked at you, but that isn’t true. Because you had Miss Mikako. She was the one who helped you get dressed and sent you off to the tea party that you hadn’t been allowed to go to before. She was the one who worried over you when you came back from studying abroad looking thin. Only Miss Mikako—only your twin sister—was always there looking out for you, right? That’s why you couldn’t kill her. You couldn’t swing a knife at her like you did at me… Of course, this is all conjecture on my part. But—well, am I wrong?” With that, Takatsuki held out his fingers, sans handkerchief, in front of Yuriko. “Someone you want so badly, you’d even kill to have them, and someone you can’t kill no matter what. Which one do you think is truly precious to you, Miss Yuriko?” Blood began flowing from Takatsuki’s deeply cut fingers again the second he stopped applying pressure. Looking at them through the gaps in her own fingers, Yuriko shuddered. “…Mikako is never going to forgive me,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “Well, I wonder about that. Not that I would know.” Gently, Takatsuki touched Yuriko’s hands. He lowered them away from her face and tucked her hair, which had stuck to her damp cheeks, behind her ears. Peering into her crying face from up close, he said, “But there is one way to find out. Let’s go get Miss Mikako. Where is she?” In a small voice, Yuriko replied that she was in the basement of the villa. Contacted by Takatsuki, Yuuto came to pick Yuriko up before heading straight for the Takamura family villa in Hakone. A few days later, Yuuto visited Takatsuki’s office. As someone who was more or less involved in the situation, Naoya was also summoned. Yuuto bowed deeply to them both. “Thank you… I managed to make it in time.” According to Yuuto, Mikako had been held captive in the basement of the Takamura family’s vacation villa. Yuriko, home in Japan for a time from studying abroad, had invited Mikako to the villa, and after they chatted for a while, she had apparently mixed a sleeping pill into Mikako’s wine. She then attempted to carry the sleeping Mikako to the basement by herself, but that turned out to be more difficult than expected. People were heavy when they were asleep, and regardless, Mikako was likely heavier than Yuriko. The moment Yuriko tried to move her sister, she fell to the ground along with Mikako, breaking a wineglass and injuring her shoulder… Naoya had thought for sure the two of them had gotten into a fight to the death, and he was relieved to hear the reality was a bit more peaceful. Still, Mikako had been held captive for several days. There was some emergency food and water in the basement, but not much. When Mikako was found, she was quite weak, and Yuuto immediately took her to a hospital. Fortunately, her condition was not life-threatening, so she was recovering well and had been discharged from the hospital the day before. The Takamura family was shocked and infuriated by Yuriko’s actions, but apparently, they hadn’t taken the matter to the police… They probably felt the incident would disgrace their family. Given that they were in charge of a company, they likely feared causing an uproar. “…How did I not know that she wasn’t Mikako? Even if we hadn’t seen each other for a month… I was so disappointed in myself.” Yuuto hung his head as he spoke. In front of him sat the Great Buddha mug, filled with coffee. Takatsuki grinned. “Well, this isn’t a mystery novel, so I guess one wouldn’t normally imagine it was her twin. But did Miss Mikako not tell you that she had a twin sister?” “She told me she had a younger sister. She said I wouldn’t be able to meet her now because she was studying abroad, but I would be in for a shock when we did meet. She sounded kind of proud…” Mikako might have been planning to surprise Yuuto. She wanted to brag about having a sister who looked just like her. Yes—from Mikako’s point of view, Yuriko’s existence may have been something to be proud of. A distorted image reflected in the mirror—perhaps Mikako hadn’t thought of Yuriko that way. “By the way, A— …Um, when did you notice? That she wasn’t Mikako? You only met Yuriko once, and that was a long time ago, right?” Takatsuki’s brow furrowed a little at Yuuto’s question. “Even I couldn’t tell right away, seeing as how they had gone from being kindergartners to adult women. And they are identical twins, after all… But there were still lots of little things that felt off. That she was Miss Yuriko is beside the point; it was just that the impression she gave was too inconsistent.” “Inconsistent?” “Yeah… The first thing that seemed wrong was that bear,” Takatsuki said, bringing his mug of cocoa to his mouth. “Do you remember how there was a pretty old teddy bear in her apartment? That was the one Miss Mikako was always holding as a child. It had been mended in several places, like she couldn’t bring herself to throw it away even after it was damaged. I figured she must have treasured it quite a lot. But then that day, she just tossed the teddy bear off the sofa without a second thought.” Hearing this, Naoya realized something. That was why Takatsuki had taken the time to pick up the upturned bear from the carpet. “Also, it raised some flags for me when she said she studied early modern literature. The way she said it made me think she must have majored in it, not just taken some classes as electives. But Miss Mikako is aiming to be an English interpreter, right? I mean, it’s not as though there aren’t people who study Japanese literature and become interpreters, but I imagine studying English literature would be the norm.” “I’m pretty sure Mikako did graduate from the English lit department… That didn’t catch my attention at all in that moment. I just thought she might have taken some classes in early modern literature while in college, but… Huh. So she said it like that.” Yuuto frowned, but, well, it wasn’t like most people paid as much attention to the details of what someone was saying as Takatsuki did. Takatsuki continued, after soothing his discouraged cousin. “So the sense that something was off built up, and I asked you to show me pictures from your dates so I could check Miss Mikako’s face. When I did, I realized she looked different from the person I’d met that day.” “So that’s why you suddenly asked me to show you those pictures… Were their faces really that different?” “If you were looking at them from the perspective that there were two people with that face. Even twins will have some differences as they grow. Even you, Yuuto, when you saw Miss Yuriko after she had switched places with Miss Mikako, you thought she was someone else. You were able to tell after all.” Takatsuki put down the mug he was holding, leveling a serious look at Yuuto. “But really, in regard to this matter, I genuinely regret not pointing it out to you sooner. If I had, Miss Mikako could have been rescued sooner… I’m sorry. That day, Mr. Kuroki showed up, and that exhausted me, and I forgot to tell you.” “No, it’s fine. Without A— …Without you, Mikako might actually have died.” Yuuto sipped his coffee. Curious without knowing exactly why, Naoya turned to Yuuto and said, “Um, may I ask something?” “What is it?” Yuuto looked at him with a face that didn’t resemble Takatsuki’s in the slightest. “…Where is Miss Yuriko now?” “She’s at the Takamura house… I heard she’s going to be receiving psychiatric treatment. Apparently, she was originally diagnosed with depression from the stress of studying abroad. That’s why she had the sleeping pills, I guess.” “I see…” It was true that Yuriko had not appeared to be in a normal mental state. Naoya had wondered what they would do when she pulled out that knife… Although things had somehow turned out fine, thanks to there being someone present who had received various training from his violent detective of a childhood friend. “Still,” Yuuto said. “For some reason, I can’t bring myself to blame Yuriko.” “What, even though she almost killed your fiancée?” “I really wish she hadn’t done that, of course, but I spoke to Yuriko in the car on the way to the villa… She said that she wanted to be Mikako. That she’d wanted to be her for a long time, not just for this swap incident.” “Not the reflection in the mirror, but the real thing?” “No—I think she just meant that she wanted to be like Mikako. A bright, sociable woman that everyone likes.” Mikako and Yuriko had grown up with two opposing personalities. Cheerful, positive Mikako. Obsequious, gloomy Yuriko. The fact that their faces were basically the same must have made Yuriko feel even more inferior. But looking at what she felt from another perspective—ultimately, it was adoration. A longing to be like her sister, an admiration for her. “Even I…can understand that,” Yuuto murmured, dropping his gaze to the Buddha mug. Takatsuki tilted his head. “What? You wanted to be someone, too, Yuuto?” “A— …You.” His voice still a mutter, Yuuto glared at Takatsuki, who looked bewildered. “Huh? Hold on. But you hated me? The last time you liked me was probably kindergarten, wasn’t it?!” “I’m telling you! That was… I mean, could you try putting yourself in my shoes for a minute? You have an older cousin you’re proud of when you’re really little, but eventually you start getting compared to him in everything! Your school grades, your extracurriculars, even your looks! And not just by your parents, but by everyone around you! Just imagine being constantly told, ‘Akira could have done it better.’ Or ‘Akira has such a pretty face, but you…’ You’d be totally devastated!” Yuuto had gone bright red. Takatsuki continued to look taken aback. “Wh—? …What? Are you serious? I had no idea…” “Of course you didn’t, because I was the one they were saying those things to! And now, even just looking at A—…at your face—makes me depressed!” “Whaaaat? I’m so sorry, Yuuto…” “Don’t apologize! It’ll just make me feel worse!” Yuuto turned his face away, and Takatsuki took a sip of his cocoa, clearly at a loss for what else to do. Looking back and forth between the two of them, Naoya almost couldn’t help but laugh. Once again, he was struck by how normal they were as cousins. In Naoya’s case, his cousin Masahiko had been an excellent student, and Naoya and Kazuya would often sulk together over being compared to him. But this meant that the relationship between Takatsuki and Yuuto hadn’t broken down because of the kamikakushi incident. It was just that their childhood resentments had festered, and as a result of that being a reality as they grew up, they no longer knew how to behave toward each other… Maybe that was exactly why Yuuto was here now, talking to Takatsuki normally. Takatsuki looked at Yuuto, who was drinking his coffee, with his face still turned in the other direction. “That reminds me. I wonder when you’ll start calling me ‘Aki’ again?” Yuuto spat out his coffee. He sputtered and coughed, taking the tissue that Takatsuki hastily held out to him. “Hey now. Yuuto, are you okay? You didn’t get it on your suit, did you?” “I-it’s fine… Wait, no it’s not! As if I could call you that childish nickname now!” “But you kept starting to say ‘A—…’ and then stopping, so I was curious.” “Yes, I’ve been wondering, too,” Naoya chimed in. Yuuto shot him a sharp glare. “…It’s not easy to figure out what to call a cousin you haven’t seen in twenty years. You’ll understand someday.” “Well, I don’t have any cousins I haven’t seen in that long a time period.” Naoya shook his head, and Yuuto wiped up the coffee that had landed on the table with the tissue while looking cross. The impression Naoya had gotten of Yuuto as an unpleasant person had completely disappeared, and he looked at the older man, thinking that he was a rather interesting guy. But he could understand why Yuuto would have difficulty calling Takatsuki “Akira.” He probably felt uncomfortable just using his first name like that, so he kept falling back on “you.” “But you did call me ‘Aki’ once, Yuuto.” “I did not!” “You did so, when I was about to collapse… And you helped hold me up, right?” Takatsuki smiled. Yuuto turned away again. Apparently, he really wanted to do away with the Aki nickname. Then glancing at his watch, Yuuto finished his coffee and stood. “Sorry. I should get going.” “Okay. Later, Yuuto.” Takatsuki waved a hand at him. As Yuuto reached for the office door, he paused before opening it and turned to look back at Takatsuki. “Hey. I really owe you one… And I’m sorry for getting you involved in everything.” “Don’t worry about it. I was glad.” Takatsuki’s smile was full of genuine happiness. “It had been a really, really long time since my cousin came to ask me for help. I wanted to give it my all. Oh, by the way—Yuuto, send me pictures after the wedding.” “…Okay. I will.” His expression somewhat complicated, Yuuto nodded at the smiling Takatsuki. Watching him, Naoya realized that Takatsuki definitely would not be invited to Yuuto’s and Mikako’s wedding. “Later.” “Yeah.” Neither of them said “see you” or “good-bye” to each other. There was a chance they would meet again. But that, most likely, would not be supported by the Takatsuki family. Yuuto left the office. Staring at the door that had just shut with a clack, Naoya felt lonely, for some reason. The man wasn’t even his relative. But perhaps, just a little bit, he also felt relieved. He had learned that Takatsuki had a relative other than Wataru who spoke to him normally. Kuroki had said he wanted Takatsuki to live his life while keeping quiet. It was as if he had said he wanted the professor to erase his own presence. Takatsuki’s mother had wiped his very existence out of her mind. But inside Yuuto, Takatsuki was still there. As Aki. Or maybe…as the cousin he was proud of still. Standing up, Takatsuki grabbed the Buddha mug that Yuuto had been using. Chuckling, he turned to Naoya. “Hey, Fukamachi. Did you notice the white stains on the back of Yuuto’s jacket?” “Huh? Oh yeah, those. On the back of his left shoulder.” He had noticed it when Yuuto turned his back to them to leave the office. There had been two fairly large white splotches on his jacket. “I thought I should say something about it, but I couldn’t figure out the timing, and I missed my chance… I wonder what they were from.” “They were parakeet droppings, I think?” “What? You mean…?” “Yep, that red parakeet.” He meant the big red parakeet that Yuriko had wielded in Takatsuki’s direction when they went to Mikako’s apartment. Yuuto had said the bird wasn’t Mikako’s, which meant Yuriko must have bought it somewhere. “Miss Mikako was in the hospital,” Takatsuki said. “And Miss Yuriko’s situation must be tough, so I’ve been wondering what had become of that bird… I’m glad it seems Yuuto is looking after it now. I hope he’s taking good care of it.” The image of Yuuto being toyed with by the large bird came into Naoya’s head. Given that there was feces on the back of his jacket, he must have let it out of its cage. “Even though you hate birds, Professor, you were worried about that parakeet?” “Well, I mean, it’s not the bird’s fault… I wasn’t thinking of taking care of it myself, though.” Looking toward the door Yuuto had left through, Takatsuki smiled. “Yuuto was always a kind boy. He’s my cousin—my adorable, hardworking cousin that I’m proud of.” Nodding, Naoya brought his coffee mug to his mouth. He wished that Yuuto could have heard what Takatsuki had just said.
Chapter 20
55 min read