Hero, Heroine, Ordinary Guy
"Oppa. What's with the wooden sword now?"
"Got it as a gift."
"From who?"
"The shrine maiden from Shinamori Shrine."
I told her the truth, but my sister shot me a look that screamed don't lie to me. She lingered by my open door for a moment, peering in, then flopped straight onto my bed without a second thought. Ever since she was little and saw me scratching my back while lying down, she'd picked up the same bad habit—her hands automatically heading for her belly or butt the second she hit the mattress.
"Aoba asked if she could come over to our house."
"She wants to hang out, right?"
"She's worried 'cause you haven't been showing up for workouts."
"Ah..."
Yeah, fair enough. We'd only known each other a short time, but we'd clicked fast, so it made sense she'd worry.
Not liking my lukewarm reaction, Hiyori reached out, grabbed a fistful of my hair at the back of my head, and yanked.
"It's kinda amazing how you get along so well with girls on the sly, Oppa."
"I treat guys and girls the same. No ulterior motives, and that's how it works."
"Hmph."
"What now?"
She clearly didn't want to talk more, heading for the door but glancing back at me just before leaving. Aigoo, that spoiled brat. If I didn't follow, she'd really sulk. I'd paused my training while she was around, but I stepped out into the living room to chase after her.
As I came out, she glanced at me, then started fiddling with the game console. I pulled out the plumber game I'd bought right at launch last year and slotted it into the machine. It was the fifth in the plumber series from 1990: Dinosaur Land. Hiyori loved games, but her reflexes were meh, so she often got stuck on tougher stages or bosses.
Her face started turning red, lips pouting, so I took over just for the hard parts and handed the controller back.
"Even with your arm hurt, you're still good, Oppa."
"It's just a bit uncomfortable, considering how bad the injury was."
"...You're gonna get hurt bad someday and learn the hard way."
Don't jinx it—that's probably gonna happen for real. If I weren't tangled up in the yokai underbelly of the world, sure, life in Japan's economic boom would be all sunshine. But it wasn't, so the dangers I perceived and the ones she did were worlds apart.
The plumber character she controlled spun in place with spin jumps, boing boing, her finger mashing the X button hard—clearly venting some frustration.
"Don't you have any guy friends, Oppa?"
"I get along with everyone at school."
"Yeah, you were like that even when we went to school together."
"This big bro's got no rough edges—that's my charm."
She had no comeback for that, clearing the stage before speaking up.
"Oppa. You haven't seen Aoba this week, right?"
"Nope."
"Do you know where her house is?"
"Yeah."
"Then go meet her real quick."
"Out of nowhere?"
Without a word, she jabbed my side with her elbow, got up first, and tugged my sleeve. It might sound off for a middle schooler, but Hiyori had a sharp woman's intuition. Dragging me by the sleeve in quick steps back to my room, she flung open my closet and shoved some casual clothes at me—the stylish ones Mom had bought, nagging me to dress properly.
"From now on, whenever you go see Aoba outside workouts, dress nice."
I felt a little awkward. No idea what Aoba had said to her, but Hiyori seemed to see us as closer than I did. And just recently, things with Inuyama had that weird vibe too. Was it okay to meet girls like this, almost like flirting?
Whatever. I'd figure it out when I got there.
"I'm gonna play games."
"And?"
"Don't come back till I clear it."
"Got it."
"And don't say I sent you."
Sis, with your skills, you might have to crash outside. Kidding—I got it; she meant don't rush back. Mom gave my outfit a thumbs-up, so no issues there. Not used to the clothes, I strolled slowly, scanning the street. No weird looks about my fashion. Well, Mom and Hiyori picked them, so I trusted that.
I headed to the dojo address I'd heard before and rang the intercom.
"Who is it?"
"Tsukino Takuya."
"Ah! Aoba! You have a guest!"
Aoba was mid-training, a light sheen of sweat on her skin.
"Hi. Oppa dressed up nice to come out. C-can I change quick too?"
"I think you look great like that—pretty, even."
"Eek! I-I'll change!"
After what sounded like a fierce battle inside, she emerged ready in record time. Unlike her training or school clothes, it was fluttery and cute—the kind middle school girls her age would love.
"...Um."
"Suits you. Honestly, you'd look pretty in anything."
"Hehe."
"Anywhere you wanna go?"
"Just... us two, right?"
"Yeah."
"Then I wanna see the high school. Is it open weekends?"
"It's open. The head teacher might be there."
"Guess we can't go in then."
"Nah. I'm a student, you're middle school—say I'm showing you around, and they'll let us."
Destination set, we started walking. Aoba fidgeted beside me, then tentatively slipped her hand into mine. A whirlwind of thoughts raced through my head, but I decided to just let it be. Holding hands lightly, we reached the high school gate. I chatted briefly with the guard uncle and led her to my classroom.
"This is where you have class?"
"Yeah. Middle row, second from the back."
"Anyone I know?"
"The girl in the seat right in front of me on the right—the shrine maiden from Shinamori Shrine."
"Ah! The one who's always expressionless."
"But she's got emotions. Good person. Super considerate."
"You two close?"
"Getting there lately."
"Oppa."
"Yeah?"
"You treat everyone else the same way you treat me, right?"
"Pretty much."
"Honestly, that feels kinda unfair."
Aoba sat in my seat, pressing her right cheek to the desk and slumping. She took a deep breath, then stood, grabbing my hand again.
"...I like your hand. You can feel the calluses from training. You brush off your hard work like it's nothing with a smile, then go off alone to keep at it."
"Training every day, no skips."
"Our family has this curse passed down. No matter what doctor at what hospital, it's 'unknown cause,' but it'll threaten my life soon. Even trying to do my best every day, thinking I'll die quick makes it all feel pointless. Training too."
"...That's natural. Not your fault."
"Thanks. Truth is, I've been really down lately. But that hill where we first met? Seeing you there, I felt like it was fate."
"Haven't done much for you yet."
"You clear my head during training, make me laugh with your jokes."
We stayed quiet for a while. Not uncomfortable, but with her eyes downcast, something flustered slipped out after a beat.
"Having you next to me makes me forget the hard stuff. I like it so much, I wish you'd always be there."
"...Whoever hears that might get the wrong idea."
"Would you... get the wrong idea?"
Her eyes welled up, her voice trembling as she looked at me. If I were the protagonist, I'd not just listen but solve her problems, hug her tight right then. But me? I was swamped with my own issues, and helping her mom was a wildcard timeline. Getting close irresponsibly here...
"Oppa. You're a good guy. I know you approach me carefully. But right now... I need you, not someone else."
"...I see."
Don't overthink the future. Do what she needs now.
"Aoba."
I pulled the quietly crying girl up and hugged her with all my strength. As her tears turned from drizzle to downpour, I patted her trembling back. A moan-like cry escaped her, and she burrowed deeper, soaking my shirt.
"I'm just an ordinary guy. Can't do much for you yet. But if you like me for real, if you can wait, I'll be by your side."
At those words, she started bawling outright. I held her till she poured out all her pent-up emotions in tears. No more words needed. Just stay till the tears ran dry, letting her vent years of feelings—that was my job.
Nearly 30 minutes later, with her face so puffy her eyes wouldn't open, we sat in the classroom holding hands opposite each other. April's sun hadn't peaked yet; the sky was already bruising purple. Bathed in the blood-red western light, we started talking again.
"Aoba. Just wait a bit. Sounds crazy, but I'm working on a cure for that illness."
"...I believe you. You wouldn't lie about this."
"So don't worry too much. Try to relax."
"Okay."
Her fingers fidgeted with mine. Blaming the sunset—or something else—her flushed face turned shy as she spoke carefully.
"Um, Oppa. So, us... can we count today as day one?"
"I-isn't that too fast for a student?"
She puffed her cheeks for ages, teasing me to choose. We settled: decide when she hits high school, and I wouldn't date anyone till then.