It was an early Sunday morning, 6:54 a.m.
“...Any minute now,” Kyouhei Nanbu mumbled to himself, checking the time on his phone. It had been about half an hour since he’d lit the oil stove already. And if he were being honest, he’d admit it was the fifth time he’d checked the time and said that.
Steam was spewing from the kettle on the stove as it warmed up. Everything was ready: the cups had a teabag, sugar cube, and spoon inside them. The only thing left was to add the hot water, and that had been the case for some time now. There was a simple breakfast for two ready on the table: croissants, sliced cheese, ham, and a salad for each person.
There was only one thing missing—the people to eat it.
Kyouhei checked his phone for the sixth time.
“I have returned, Kyouhei,” came a voice just as he did so.
When Kyouhei turned to look... there was a slight figure standing before him.
The figure was a foreign girl, wearing a white, woolen duffel coat. Her hair shone like spun gold, and her eyes were like glittering sapphires. Her skin was a milky-white and her features were faultless—all of these things came together wonderfully.
She was adorable, beautiful. It was impossible to argue; she was just that perfect. The simple act of her standing there changed the very feeling of the atmosphere, like an elegant scene in a movie.
Her name was Pamil Terrill Karl Bergmann.
If she was silent, and still as well, she was an utterly peerless beauty.
“Welcome back,” Kyouhei said, smiling reluctantly at her extravagance and pouring water into the cups.
A lot of time had passed since certain circumstances had led to her becoming his sister. As things stood in the beginning, there were plenty of things that threw him for a loop, and even now they still came up. Her behavior was still fairly bizarre, but Kyouhei had become much more used to his blonde sister, so now he just saw it as normal.
“Here,” he told her, holding out the cup to her.
“Oh, how considerate,” she said, taking the cup with a nod.
Regardless of her being his younger sister, she often spoke more haughtily than needed, but that was a constant. It was only natural for an eccentric (in several ways) who introduced herself as a body double android of a ruined country’s princess.
Incidentally, she had just returned from a morning walk.
Originally, he was uneasy about letting her out alone due to her oddness. Even so, Kyouhei couldn’t keep her under surveillance... with all of her oddities, it would mentally exhaust him. All that meant that, recently, he let her go for walks on Sunday mornings on her own.
“Morning walks are good,” she declared, cupping her drink in both hands as she sipped at it, “they wake you up and whet your appetite.”
“Right,” Kyouhei answered with a reluctant smile as they both sat at the table.
Thus, the Nanbu household’s breakfast scene had been completed. Well, the ‘little sister’ was a blonde-haired, blue-eyed foreigner, but that was nothing to complain about—Kyouhei luxuriated in the somehow heartwarming atmosphere that filled the air.
I do still need to keep an eye on her... he thought as he watched her eat like a hamster, croissant in both hands as she nibbled away at it. ...But she finally feels like family.
Kyouhei had only ever had his father who he could call family. He didn’t know who or where his mother was. Even his father was rarely around, so he’d always yearned for a family.
His life with Pamil, ridiculously as it had started, had finally approached his ideal. Ordinary, normal, reasonable. It was a naturally normal life. Well, his family was mainly composed of the two of them, and his sister was obviously a foreigner, and on top of that, she would sometimes fire beams from her eyes... but well, he’d just have to deal with that.
Regardless, Kyouhei had now finally sunk his teeth into his normalish everyday life.
However...
“You enjoying school then?” Kyouhei asked her.
“Indeed, I am. Why are you asking me again?”
“It’s fine. It’s a normal family conversation.”
“It is?”
“It is.”
...Kyouhei would soon come to realize that this normalcy was built upon sand.
● ● ●
It was an exceedingly eye-catching sight.
Thus, it was only to be expected that Mizuhito Hibiki would stop to take a look. Standing out—that is, deviating from the norm and the expected—was his lifeblood; the philosophy by which he led his life.
He had scarlet hair, emerald eyes, and tanned skin. He also had a design on his cheek; some sort of tattoo. His appearance was abnormal for a human being, but he was still a Japanese person. Mizuhito’s hair was dyed with spray and his eyes colored with contacts—all to stand out. Nothing more, nothing less.
How such a guy became Kyouhei Nanbu’s friend was shrouded in mystery, but back to the point.
“...What?”
Currently... Mizuhito was on an artificial beach.
Even sandy beaches, thronged with surfers in the summer, grew empty as the cold intensified; the early hour simply exaggerated the effect. The chill winter wind tugged at the waves breaking on the beach, carrying the gentle, and somehow sad, rumble of the sea with it. The scenery seemed to lack color; almost everything appeared to be a shade of gray.
Mizuhito was out running—the faux-rocker never missed the exercise to stay healthy. He kept away from tobacco, alcohol, and drugs, too. Standing out was surprisingly tiring work, so he didn’t spare the effort. “Swans are kicking away under the water, yeah?!” he’d ask you, “It’s the same as that!”
There were a few flaws in his reasoning, but back to the point.
“A... coffin...?”