“I keep thinking,” I said. “We spend so little time eating compared to how much we put into preparation.”
“Yeah… But isn’t everything like that? Most of the things we use without even thinking about it take time to make, but we enjoy them in an instant.”
Perhaps that was true.
I liked books, and I could read a paperback in an hour or two, but it probably took days for authors to write them, maybe even months. Or maybe not—I wasn’t sure.
Still, I was reminded that we had to be grateful to the people who make things.
“Thank you, Ayase, for always making us delicious meals.” I bowed, and she averted her eyes as usual. Recently, I’d realized she was just being shy.
“I’m just doing what I can,” she said. This was one thing about her that hadn’t changed since we met.
“But I’m really grateful to you.”
“You’ve started cooking now and then, too.”
“It’s going to take a while for me to catch up with you… And yeah, the French toast was delicious.”
“…You’re welcome.”
She turned even farther away, and I asked if she’d like a cup of coffee.
“It’ll make it harder for me to fall asleep…”
She had a point. There was no need to lose sleep when we didn’t even have an exam coming up.
“Oh yeah…” I stood up and went to fetch a box from the cupboard. It contained an assortment of decaffeinated coffee that my father had received from a colleague. It was individually wrapped drip coffee that you set in a cup and poured hot water over. “How about this? It’s decaffeinated.”
Ayase nodded, and I plugged in the electric kettle and got two cups from the cupboard. In the meantime, Ayase started washing the dishes.
The water boiled in a few minutes, and I made coffee for two.
The aroma rose up with the steam, and I was just about to take a sip when Ayase said, “Oh. Wait a minute, Asamura.”
“Hmm?”
She stopped me, opened a bag she’d left on one of the empty chairs, and pulled out a package. The gift wrapping looked familiar.
“Huh? Isn’t that from our store…?”
“Yep. They were selling it today only.”
She unwrapped it and took out a square box. It was just big enough to fit in the palm of her hand. Inside was a small pumpkin-shaped container.
“…Is that a light?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
She pulled it out and placed it on the table.
It said LED CANDLELIGHT in large letters on the box.
The orange pumpkin-shaped vessel was a jack-o’-lantern with a hollowed-out interior and a candle-shaped LED light inside. AA batteries were included, and when she put them in and flipped the switch, the light glowed faintly.
“I’m turning off the ceiling light,” Ayase said. After that, the only light in the room was the pale LED glow from the pumpkin lantern. It shimmered on the table.
I looked into the pumpkin through the face-shaped gap, and the light inside looked like a real lit candle.
“In the old days, you had to use real fire, but now you can create flickering flames without the danger. Modern times sure are amazing,” Ayase said as she sat down on the other side of the table.
It was probably flickering because the LED emitted an irregular pattern of light. As Ayase said, it felt like the real deal.
We sat in the dark room, gazing at each other across the pumpkin lantern’s faint glow.
“A long time ago, when I was a little girl…,” Ayase began.
“Hmm?”
“…my mom bought me a pumpkin candle that looked a lot like this one. It had the same face, but there was a real candle inside.”
“Maybe it’s a series from the same manufacturer.”
“Maybe it is. I was still in elementary school then, and my mom had work and couldn’t come home, just like tonight. I had my own little Halloween party and lit the candle… Mom got mad at me later.”
How dangerous, I thought, but maybe Ayase had known that, even back then.
Light was a symbol of human activity. A light in the dark meant someone was there. I always felt relieved when I saw lights spilling out of the windows of our apartment into the night.
“I don’t know why,” she said, “but I always feel like I’ve come home when I see the lights on.”
“I know what you mean.”
“Because of my mom’s work, I rarely got to see her at home. I was always lonely as a child when I came back from school. But…” She paused for a moment. “…I’m glad I get to be with you this year.”
The lantern’s light was faint, and as we sat across the table from each other, only our faces were visible. I stared into her eyes, shining as they reflected the light, and an impulse inside me started to surface.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hmm?”
“Um…”
I leaned slightly toward her, and she moved her face closer to mine.
Her eyes shimmered in the erratic light as she stared at me.
I extended my right hand without realizing it and touched her cheek. I ran my fingers through her hair, a few strands of which fell back down onto her face.
“Your hair’s grown a bit,” I said.
“It’s still a lot shorter than it was before.”
“It looks good on you.”
“…Thanks.”
We were going to be particularly close siblings.
It was only a month ago that we’d decided that. But now I was about to break that vow of my own volition. I asked myself if I was willing to face the consequences.
“The two of you are too smart, so let me put a curse on you to make you into fools.”
I heard the devil whisper in my ear once again.
We weren’t just any boy and girl, and maybe there were lines we shouldn’t cross without the proper resolve.
But when I asked myself if I wanted to spend more happy moments with Ayase, the answer was obvious.
I wanted to touch her, and I wanted her to let me in.
It was shallow and selfish, and I bet the devil would say I was being a fool.
I remembered our small shadows, holding hands under the streetlamp. That was how I felt, too. I wanted to be with her.
Ayase’s eyes bore into mine as I moved closer, then they lost their focus, and she closed them.
I hadn’t realized she had such long eyelashes…
As I thought this, I closed my eyes, too.
Then I felt something soft touch my lips.
Right now, she wasn’t my little sister.
I was kissing Saki Ayase.
We were at home where no one was watching.
Only God could see our sin. But maybe, just maybe, the parade of devils and monsters had blinded him tonight, and he’d missed it.
This would be our secret moment, free from blame.
“It’s the devil’s hour,” said Ayase, breathing out as I pulled away. “I bet the Halloween lights have magic in them.”