She and Shoma had both clung to Kanba as they made their way through the spooky attraction. She could remember the chilly air tickling her ankles. Kanba had tried to shrug it off like it was no big deal, but he was pretty clearly bluffing, since his palms were sweaty. But despite her fear, Himari never once regretted taking the plunge. She had vowed to enjoy every single attraction that would let all three of them inside.
When they finally reached the exit, they were met with warm, bright sunshine. Their parents were waiting for them, smiling as they watched their terrified children scramble outside. Himari dashed right over to her mother and clung to her legs.
“Oh, good heavens. You should have let me come with you like I suggested,” Chiemi chided her gently.
“What a lame haunted house. It wasn’t even scary!” Kanba scoffed, putting up a tough front.
“You okay, Himari?” Shoma asked, running over to her as she clung to their mother in silence. “It’s all over now, okay?”
Kenzan held up his camera. “All right, kids, now let’s take a photo in honor of your courage.”
Then the three children lined up in front of the sign advertising the haunted house, their expressions an odd mix of fear and relief. The memory made Himari laugh. Of course they had changed—they had no option not to. The three of them had come a long way, and there was no going back for any of them. Almost like they were shipwrecked on a tiny deserted island far, far away.
“I wish Sho-chan and Kan-chan would hurry up and come home already.” It looked like it was going to rain any minute, and she could think of fewer things more unpleasant than commuting home in wet clothes.
Just then, the doorbell rang. Himari sprang out of bed and dashed off to the door, leaving the open photo album behind. She knew her brothers would never bother to ring the doorbell before coming in—so who could be paying her a visit on this chilly evening?
“Who is it?”
When she opened the sliding door, there stood Masako with a hard look on her face, her curls perfectly styled, wearing a classy camel-colored leather trench coat, black tights, and black high-heeled ankle boots.
“Goodness. I’d better crush you soon,” said Masako with a frown. Then she reached up and pressed a hand to the crease in her brow. Her neatly trimmed nails were the color of blood blisters.
“Uhhh…?”
Himari could smell sensual, sweet perfume mixed in with the chilly air. This total stranger had the most beautiful almond-shaped eyes she had ever seen.
“Please accept this small trifle.” Masako thrust the box she was holding in Himari’s direction. Then she raised her head and took a whiff of the house’s interior. “I take it Kanba isn’t home?”
“Not at the moment…”
“Pardon my intrusion.”
In a blink, Masako unzipped her boots, set them neatly beside the other shoes in the entryway, and walked inside.
“Wait! Um…we have slippers!” Himari offered, still holding the gift box. But Masako ignored her and scanned the tiny little living room. Then she strode over to the bright red sofa and sat down without removing her rain-soaked coat. Crossing her legs, she took in the childishly decorated sliding doors, the frayed pull cords on the lighting fixtures, the tissue box cover, the peach-pink curtains, and the clutter of unfamiliar toys lined up all over the TV and shelves.
“What a tacky house,” she muttered. “How long does he intend to live in this run-down shack?”
“Thank you for the pudding. Would you like some?”
Himari returned to the coffee table with two cups of roasted green tea and two cups of pudding from Masako’s gift box. Then she sat down on the opposite side, facing the sofa. This woman seemed to be looking for Kanba, and the displeasure on her face made Himari uneasy.
“Whatever Kan-chan did, I’m really sorry!” she blurted on reflex, bowing her head.
“What are you talking about?”
After seeing her up close, Masako could only conclude that Himari was a child. Her little head, her little braids, her little stick legs… She was wearing a pink wool cardigan over a gauzy blue shirt, denim shorts, and long, thick socks.
“Deep down, Kan-chan has a heart of gold. He’s just…um…a bit of a womanizer,” Himari continued, looking up at Masako. “But he doesn’t mean any harm by it. I’m sure he never wanted to hurt you.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re referring to. I just came to retrieve what is rightfully mine.” Detestable little wench, Masako thought to herself.
“Huh? Did you give him a really pricey gift or something?”
“Oh, I’ve given him plenty of gifts over the years,” she muttered, a distant look in her eyes. “But he rejected every one of them.”
Himari wracked her brain, trying to think of the most expensive thing that Kanba acquired recently. Eventually she settled on: “Wait…you mean…the sukiyaki beef…?!”
“Excuse me?”
“I…I’m so sorry! I think he might have used your gift to buy sukiyaki meat!” she blurted in a panic.
“I seriously doubt that,” Masako sighed. Perhaps the years spent living in this cluttered mess had turned the poor girl’s brain into a cluttered mess as well.
“Okay, then it might still be around here somewhere! I’ll go look for it. What, um…what did you give him?” Himari asked, rising to her feet.
“My love,” Masako replied with a straight face.
Himari’s eyes widened as her jaw dropped. Silence descended over the living room.
“I, uh…I might not be able to find it, then,” she conceded in a small voice.
Masako was the first person she’d ever known to say the word “love” outright. And seeing as she was involved with Kanba, she was clearly a very mature person. Perhaps this sort of drama was par for the course when you were a womanizer.
“No. I demand that you return it.”
As Himari’s uncertainty grew, Masako became ever more convinced that she was unworthy of Kanba. This girl had no understanding of love.
“Well, if it’s a matter of love, then it’s up to Kan-chan to handle. I’m just his sister—I have no right to decide,” Himari explained, attempting to strike a careful balance between courtesy and sincerity.
“His sister? Funny joke,” Masako snorted.
“Uh, no, I’m not joking! I really am his sister! If you think I’m his girlfriend, then you’re mistaken!”
“No, you’re mistaken, Himari-san,” Masako shot back without missing a beat.
Himari looked at her sharply. How does she know my name? Had Kanba told her?