Episode 4
THE day I discovered the unsettling rumors about my identity, I hastily summoned Shannon as soon as I arrived home, not even bothering to change out of my school uniform. She arrived quickly, already in her maid attire.
“Lady Mio, did you need me?” Shannon asked, her tone calm and composed.
“You and I both know why I called you here,” I said curtly, my patience thinning. “You’re aware of the rumors, aren’t you?”
“Yes, quite aware. What would you like me to do?”
“Contact Lady Shizuki. Tell her I need to speak with her as soon as possible.”
“Lady Shizuki is currently out for observation. I can arrange for a meeting as soon as she returns.”
“Never mind. I’ll send her a message then.” Pulling out my phone, I swiftly composed an email to Shizuki, summarizing the situation and seeking her counsel. “Okay, well, I’m going to go shower. Hopefully, she’ll respond quickly,” I told Shannon, turning away.
“I’ll have your clothes ready.”
Without giving much attention to the flurry of activity among the maids triggered by my command, I headed decisively to the bathroom. Shedding my uniform and undergarments, I stepped into the spacious bathroom and directly under the shower. As the warm water enveloped me, my thoughts drifted through the events that had unfolded so far.
Identity fraud was no minor offense. And while a powerful zaibatsu might have had options to keep such scandals under wraps (i.e. the “it’s not a crime unless you get caught” approach), on the off chance that the truth did leak, even their influence would likely be powerless against the repercussions. The irony was, the scandal’s flames would likely burn even brighter because it was linked to such a powerful entity.
As I lathered shampoo into my hair, my mind raced to piece it all together. Ruki knew my secret but had kept quiet. The fact that we had already brushed shoulders with this danger and yet Shizuki hadn’t prepared any countermeasures indicated her confidence in handling the situation, perhaps even anticipating it, but why was she so confident? What was her angle? Did she plan to quash the rumor at its source by pressuring the originator’s family? But that would be counterproductive, akin to shouting, “the rumors are true!” Besides, if the rumor-starter had concrete proof of my false identity, such a tactic could backfire spectacularly.
I felt trapped in a maze of uncertainty, the way forward obscured. My only hope was that Shizuki had a plan. I continued to shower, almost trying to wash away the anxiety and confusion clouding my thoughts.
✦ ✦ ✦
AFTER my shower, I eagerly checked my phone for a reply from Shizuki. Balancing the phone in one hand and a bath towel in the other, I opened her message.
“Thank goodness,” I muttered in relief.
“No need to worry, just sit tight and wait for my word.” Her words were precisely what I needed to hear, and a wave of calm washed over me. I was about to place my phone beside my clothes when it buzzed again. This time, it was a message from Shizuku, asking for a video call. Quickly drying my hair and changing, I hurried back to my room to set up my new laptop.
After sending a quick response to Shizuku indicating I was ready, her call soon appeared. I answered, and there she was, my dear baby sister displayed in crisp detail on my laptop’s screen.
“Ah, I can see you!” I chimed eagerly. “Hello, Shizuku. Can you see me okay?”
“I can see you,” she replied, then paused. “Where…the heck are you?”
“My room. I moved a few things around so maybe you don’t recognize it.” I had already prepared an excuse. My current room was easily several times larger than my old one, so of course I had carefully positioned the laptop to conceal most of the room.
Shizuku’s expression flickered with doubt, but she eventually nodded, seemingly accepting my explanation.
“So anyways, you had something you wanted to discuss?” I prompted, trying to steer the conversation.
“Yeah,” she began, a dry edge creeping into her voice. “There’s something I couldn’t say in person, but I thought maybe through this call…”
“Oh. What is it?” I tried to sound as unconcerned as possible even as my heart began to race with apprehension.
Shizuku’s eyes darted around her room, a visible struggle playing out on her face as she mustered the courage to look directly at me. “Mio. You’ve done so much for me—more than anyone should. Please, you don’t have to keep forcing yourself.”
“F-Force myself? Are you kidding, Shizuku? I’m not forcing myself to help you.”
“This is you, isn’t it?” Suddenly, a magazine covered the camera. It was the fashion magazine she always read. This month’s edition—with me on the cover.
“That was just an opportunity from Lady— I mean, Shizuki. I always wanted to try something like this.”
“Liar. You never liked the spotlight.”
“Maybe not in the past, but people change, Shizuku.”
It was true. In middle school, I used to shy away from attention, but that had changed since working at Kaede’s café. Shizuku, however, looked like she was on the verge of tears. “I see. So even at Kaede’s, you were already forcing yourself.”
“No, I wasn’t!”
“Mio, you’re kind, too kind. I love that about you. But you’ve heard, haven’t you? That I only have three years left to live.”
“Shizuku, please—”
“So that’s it. Enough is enough, Mio. You don’t have to pretend for me anymore.”
“Shizuku…”
In that moment, I realized my folly. I’d been an idiot, a full-blown idiot for not having shared the truth with Shizuku. Why hadn’t I told her that there was a potential cure on the horizon? Was it because I’d been scared of disappointing her, that I wasn’t confident in my ability to bring the plan to fruition? My silence, borne from fear and uncertainty, had only extended her suffering, reinforcing her belief that her life was a dwindling clock, a burden to those she loved.
I had let her down. And for what? To protect myself? To placate my own ego? No longer. That changed now. She deserved to know there was light at the end of this tunnel.
“Listen, Shizuku. There is hope for you,” I revealed, my voice steady but filled with earnestness.
“Hope?” She almost laughed. “What hope, Mio?”
“I can’t share all the details right now, but there are trials happening right now, overseas, for a cure to your condition. It’s expected to be approved in three years.”
She smiled bleakly. “Yeah, I heard. But it won’t reach Japan in time for…”
“I know, but listen,” I urged, desperate to get her to understand. “I made a deal with Shizuki. If I hold up my end of the bargain, she’ll ensure you get the treatment as soon as it’s available, even here in Japan.”
Her eyes, briefly alight with a flicker of hope, dimmed again. “You’re lying…”
“I’m not lying, Shizuku.”
In her eyes, I saw the turmoil—the desperate wish to believe against the fear of being let down once more. Her gaze flitted around, struggling with the magnitude of what I’d said. Then, as the reality of my words began to sink in, tears broke free, cascading down her cheeks.
“Sh-Shizuku?” I prodded gently.
“Is that why you’ve been acting so…strange? Is it all…because of me?” she managed to voice between sobs.
That right there—her utter selflessness in that moment—was precisely why I was so determined to help her. She’d been shown the first glimmer of real hope she had in years, yet her first thoughts went to me. Her rare kind of kindness and empathy was what the world desperately needed most.
“Mostly right, but let me correct you on one detail,” I replied, my voice firm yet gentle. “It’s not because of you, Shizuku—it’s thanks to you. You’ve given me a purpose. I want to help you because I love you, so very much.”
Though Shizuku and I were no longer related by law, she would forever remain my sister in my heart. Nothing could change that, or my love for her. “I help you because I choose to,” I continued, trying to convey my sincerity. “I’m not forcing myself. Everything I do, I do it because I’m driven by my dream to see you healthy and happy.”
“But… But…” her voice was a whisper, drowned in tears.
Through the screen, I saw Shizuku overwhelmed by her emotions, rending my heart. Sobs and sniffles mingled as she rubbed away at her eyes, trying in vain to stem the flow. I ached to reach through the screen, to offer a comforting embrace, but was restrained by the digital barrier. So, I gripped my laptop, my physical connection to her, as tightly as I dared.