We unfolded the dust-covered curtain we’d retrieved from the storage room, only to discover a fair number of holes. Many years of use had thinned the material, and its red lining showed through in some spots. When we tested the curtain, holding it up to the sun and seeing light shine through, our group leader’s face fell. In its current state, the curtain wouldn’t provide the darkness necessary to preserve the atmosphere of a haunted house. We decided it’d be best to take the curtain to my house so Yoshino and I could mend it.
“Ouch!” I yelped softly as I pricked myself with a needle. “This curtain will be covered in blood by the time we’re done with it.”
“Are you okay?” Yoshino asked. “Maybe we should’ve asked the costume group to handle it.”
They could’ve repaired the curtain in no time using one of the machines in the school sewing room, but the costume group already had a lot on their plate. Iron-on patches were another option, but those would eat into our already-limited budget. With those constraints in mind, we’d opted to hand-repair the curtain over the weekend at my house.
Yoshino came over often, and she seemed at home here. We were wearing the same skirt and blouse today, almost as if we’d planned it.
My finger was still bleeding—I must’ve pricked it deeper than I’d thought. However many times I wiped the blood away, it continued to seep out. I stood, pressing the wound with a tissue.
“I’m going to grab a bandage and go to the bathroom,” I informed Yoshino.
“You should probably disinfect it while you’re there.”
Leaving her behind, I headed down to the living room on the first floor. I finished in the bathroom and was just going back upstairs when Chiaki called out from the kitchen, where he was rummaging through the fridge. “Hey, Hazuki, do we have any barley tea left?”
“You finished all the tea I made this morning. Why not brew some more?”
“You expect me to serve guests hot tea on a summer day?” Chiaki also had people from school over to do festival prep. Yoshino and I could hear their excited chatter through the thin wall separating the bedrooms. “Never mind. I’ll just stop by the convenience store and pick something up there.” He slipped his wallet into his pocket, looking annoyed.
“Can you get us ice cream while you’re there?”
“Oh, sure, no problem,” he muttered under his breath. “You’re a real tyrant, you know.”
He walked toward the front door. I saw several neatly arranged pairs of shoes there; it looked like he had both male and female guests.
Chiaki was just about to slip on his sandals when we were startled by a chime from the intercom informing us that someone was at the door. He opened it, letting hot, humid air rush in as a cheerful voice greeted us.
“Sorry we’re late!” a boy said. “The convenience store took a little longer than we expected.”
“Perfect timing, Riku!” my brother grinned.
The visitor was Tono-senpai. He was carrying a bag of plastic bottles that he handed to Chiaki. Tono-senpai wasn’t alone; the girl at his side opened the bag she was holding, showing us the contents.
“We brought a bunch of snacks too,” she added. “We can all eat them together.”
“You didn’t have to do that, Hasumi,” Chiaki replied. “But it’s much appreciated.”
I’d never seen the girl before. When she noticed me, she gave me a brilliant smile. “You have a sister, Chiaki?”
“Hazuki’s a year younger than us. She goes to our high school too.”
“You and Hazuki-chan look practically identical,” said the girl. “Do you hear that often?”
Chiaki paused deliberately, then replied, “All the time.”
My first impression was that this girl was the endearing type. The soft, gentle way she called me “Hazuki-chan” lingered in my ears.
Tono-senpai also glanced between Chiaki and me, then commented, “Those large eyes must be part of the Sakura family DNA. Do you guys look more like your mother or father?”
“Come on, Riku. You’re staring way too much,” the girl—Hasumi-senpai—chided. She pulled Tono-senpai’s sleeve, and he stuck his tongue out playfully. Then, as if she were his guardian, she said, “It might get a little loud when we’re discussing the festival. I just want to apologize in advance.”
“It’s fine!” I replied. “I’ve got a friend over too.”
“Oh, you do? In that case, take this and eat it together.” She smiled and handed me a box of chocolates from her bag.
When he saw what she’d given me, Tono-senpai asked inquisitively, “Aren’t those the brand-new chocolates you bought for yourself, Ichika?”
“Hush! You don’t need to say that.”
Apparently, they’d bought big packages of snacks to share with Chiaki’s other guests, but that box of chocolates was the only one small enough for two people to finish. I tried to give it back to her, but she brushed me off, grinning and telling me it wasn’t a big deal. She and Tono-senpai followed Chiaki up to his bedroom on the second floor.
Now that even more people were attending his festival-prep meeting, I heard their voices echoing as soon as I reached the second-floor hallway. When I returned to my room, I saw that Yoshino had made progress repairing the curtain.
“How’s your finger, Hazuki? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry about all the noise from Chiaki’s room. They’re being pretty loud, huh?”
“Seems like even more people showed up. It sounds lively in there; they must be having a blast.”