Over the years, Renjaku showed Masako countless surveillance images of Himari, and yet for some reason, now that the girl was sitting right in front of her, resentment flared up inside her all over again. “Isn’t it obvious?!” she snapped without entirely meaning to. “He’s doing it all for you!”
Kanba spent years waiting hand and foot on this little child, wasting years of his precious life using women as a crutch while he ate these plain, plebeian cookies and pretended to be happy, all the while making his actual sister live alone in this giant house.
“What should I do?”
It wasn’t clear whether Himari was actually asking her or if she was asking herself. The longer they sat here, the more likely this girl was going to take over the conversation. But she wasn’t malicious—just stupid.
“You and I are going to stop him together. Otherwise Kanba might just cross a line that can never be uncrossed.”
Together was less than ideal, but she had no choice. Without Himari’s cooperation, Kanba likely wouldn’t listen to a word she said. But more than that, after meeting the girl in person, Masako learned one important thing about her: she clearly cared about Kanba in her own way.
School was no place to have a private conversation with Kanba, but we couldn’t have it at home either, since Himari was there. So after she went to sleep, I led him outside to the empty lot beside the house. When I first told him I wanted to talk, he must have noticed my duffel coat and realized it was going to take a while, because he went and fetched his black military jacket.
“It’s freezing. What do you want?” Kanba plopped down on an animal-shaped playground fixture and looked up at me as I stood there, staring at the ground.
I was seething, so I cut to the chase: “Why did you lie to us?”
“What are you talking about?” he asked without batting an eye.
“Himari’s medical expenses. Where are you really getting the money?”
I was so sure that random journalist was lying—that our brother was more trustworthy than a total stranger—but then I saw the photos. And if the journalist was telling the truth, then it would seemingly explain why I sensed that something shady was going on. But more importantly…he knew that we weren’t actually his real family.
“Does it matter? We needed the money. End of story.”
We both exhaled the same foggy breath in the same shade of white, but it still felt like there was a massive gulf between us.
“Aniki, are you seriously taking money from those people?”
In the best-case scenario, he would deny it with a laugh, tell me I was clearly half-asleep, and send me back into the house to change into my pajamas. But I already knew I wasn’t going to get the best-case scenario. There was no other way any of us could possibly get our hands on that kind of money.
“I met a journalist today. He knew everything about our family, including where you’re getting your money. He asked me how I felt about it.”
“So what?”
His voice was so calm and cold, it made me grimace in frustration. But what exactly was so frustrating? The fact that he wasn’t panicking? The fact that he kept something this important from the two people who were supposed to be his family? Or was it the fact that he tried to shoulder the burden by himself when he knew full well he shouldn’t? Honestly, probably all of the above.
“What are you thinking? I know damn well you haven’t forgotten the magnitude of our parents’ horrific actions. And now you’re taking money from their cronies? Screw you!”
I couldn’t possibly risk letting Himari find out about this. How would she react? Neither of us was prepared to have that conversation.
“How else would you like me to pay for her treatment, Shoma? Because I don’t see any other options!”
He glared at me, and I faltered. No, there were no other options—I understood that. Without that money, Himari would have died by now—I understood that, too. But these were two very separate problems.
“Just stay the hell away from them. And obviously, don’t breathe a word of this to Himari. Problem solved.”
“No, it isn’t!”
Ignorance was not bliss, though I used to tell myself it was. When we broke into Oginome-san’s home and rooted through her stuff, I averted my eyes, stuck my head in the sand, and tried to convince myself it was all for Himari’s sake. Likewise, Kanba said the same thing. But I didn’t actually believe that at all. Bad things were objectively bad; the ends did not justify the means.
“Then how are you gonna get the money, huh? How are you gonna save Himari?” he shot back flatly. “There’s only one way we can save her. We have to change this corrupted world.”
The familiar words sent a chill running down my spine. “What are you talking about, Aniki?”
“I’m gonna save Himari, no matter what. You just sit there and watch me.”
“Like hell I’m just gonna sit there! You’re going about it the wrong way!”
“Oh yeah? Am I?” he asked defiantly. I didn’t know what to say to this. Clearly he thought I was powerless…
“Damn you!”
I lunged at him, swinging my fist. But I had no prior experience in fistfights, and he dodged my attack with ease. Before I slammed my face against the animal-shaped fixture, I hastily braced myself with my hands. Then, with a groan, I pushed myself back up and went for him again. He grabbed my fist in his palm and twisted my arm; the sudden pain made me grimace.
“You’re wasting your time.”
I knocked his hand away and swung at him again.
“You’re wasting your time!”
This time Kanba punched me hard in the jaw, knocking me onto my back. The world started spinning, and lights popped behind my eyelids—so bright, you’d think it was daytime.
“Aniki,” I groaned, forcing myself up into a sitting position even though I still couldn’t see straight.
“Aniki?” he retorted sarcastically. “Please. Don’t address me like I’m your brother. We’re just two strangers who happened to be born on the same day,” he snorted.
Did he really think of us as strangers? Even if we weren’t actually blood-related, could he really turn around and call me and Himari “strangers” when we spent all these years living together like family?
“You and me and Himari—we’ve never been family, not once. And Shoma, you can’t save her.”
I thought of him as my brother, but after that, I was done calling him Aniki.
“Looks like this is as far as we go. Now our ties have finally been severed. This has all been dragging on for way too long, anyway.”
“We…we’re family, aren’t we? Our ties can’t be severed!”
He turned his back on me and looked up at the rainbow-colored wall of the house, its vibrancy dimmed in the twilight.
“So tell me about this journalist. What did he look like?”
As I sat there on the ground, he crouched down and grabbed me by the collar. The look in his eyes was cold and hard, nothing like the Kanba I was so used to. Wordlessly, I examined his features. Then, with a sharp glare, he relinquished his grip on me and strode off down the street.
“Where are you going?!”
But he didn’t answer. Instead, he vanished into the darkness of night.
I forced myself up onto my feet. There were a few small black stains on the navy blue fabric of my coat; I wiped at them with my palm and realized it was blood. Then I noticed the taste of metal in my mouth.