Chapter 2 — A Day Out for Two

The day after Shiho moved in—Sunday morning.

We ate breakfast early and started getting ready to go out.

“Shiho, you about set?”

“Almost! Sorry it’s taking so long!”

I called through her door, and her voice came back a little frantic.

Something clattered inside—sounded like she was scrambling.

“Can’t believe I’m the one who invited you out and I overslept…”

“That’s rare for you. I feel like I lucked out.”

“Ugh… I hate that you’re right, but I brought it on myself.”

She’s usually great at getting up early, but we’d only just started a new routine yesterday—understandable. Honestly, I didn’t sleep well either; nerves.

“I’ll wait in the living room and feed Chikuwa.”

“Thanks. Fifteen more minutes!”

“No rush. Take your time.”

I left her door.

“Come on, Chikuwa—let’s eat in the living room.”

She’d been asleep while we had breakfast, so I hadn’t fed her yet.

At my feet, Chikuwa wove circles and, the second she heard the word “food,” bolted downstairs with a chorus of “mrow mrow,” and I followed her back to the living room.

Cats don’t usually learn tricks, but somehow they never forget the word “dinner.” Go figure.

Anyway, why were we heading out so early?

That goes back to last night, after we finally wrapped up cleaning the place.

After dinner and a bath, I was lazing on the sofa when—

“Minoru, can I run something by you?”

Shiho tapped my shoulder.

“What’s up?”

“Are you busy tomorrow?”

Classic out-of-nowhere Shiho.

“Not really. I was going to spend the weekend cleaning, but thanks to your help we’re done—so I was wondering what to do with my day.”

Her eyes lit up like, Perfect answer.

“I see, I see… thanks to me, your schedule’s wide open~”

From her tone and the look on her face, I could tell she wanted me to owe her one.

Which was fine by me; I genuinely was grateful.

“In that case, I simply must fill your calendar for you!”

Not even subtle anymore.

“If you’ve got plans in mind, I’m game.”

“Then how about a date—with your onee-san?”

“…Come again?”

What is she even saying to her late fiancé’s kid brother?

I knew she was teasing—it’s very her—but that one still scrambled my brain.

Seeing my face, she flashed a satisfied grin: prank successfully executed. Then she slipped back into her usual smile.

“Kidding about the date. I just want to hit the mall and buy some essentials for living here. It’d be too much to carry on my own, so if you could come with, that’d be a huge help.”

New setup, new needs—made sense.

Hauling a few bags was the least I could do after she helped me clean. Honestly, it felt like I was getting the better end of the deal.

“Got it. I’ll go with you.”

“Really? Thank you!”

She pressed her hands together, voice bright with relief.

Seeing her that happy almost made me embarrassed.

“But… too much to carry? Are we buying that much?”

“When I was packing, I tossed a bunch of things I’d meant to replace anyway. Wasteful, maybe, but if I didn’t do it then, I never would’ve done it.”

“True. It’s the perfect chance to pare stuff down.”

“And it keeps the luggage lighter. Two birds with one stone, right?”

I knew exactly what she meant.

When my brother and I moved in here, he did a big purge too.

Like Shiho, Ken wasn’t the type to throw things away.

No—that’s not quite right. It isn’t that he “never threw things away,” it’s that when my brother bought something, he chose for durability. So apart from consumables, there was basically nothing that needed tossing.

Even so, once—just like Shiho—he took the “when else am I going to do this? may as well buy new” approach and decided to clear out a bunch of old stuff. The choice itself wasn’t the problem; it was that we later realized we’d accidentally thrown out a few essentials too. We ended up flagging down the garbage truck and digging through the bags together. Thinking back, it’s a pretty bitter little memory.

Were the two of them just coincidentally alike, or do lovers start to resemble each other?

“I’ve got a few things I want to pick up too.”

“Perfect. I’m counting on you tomorrow.”

With that, Shiho opened her phone and jotted down a shopping list in her notes.

And that’s how we decided on a mall run.

—

That said, it was only a little past eight.

The mall wouldn’t open until ten, so on paper we had plenty of time.

It looked like there was no rush, but we actually had two reasons to get moving early.

First: the parking lot fills up fast.

Out here in a regional city, unlike the capital area, there aren’t that many places to go, so everyone tends to converge on the same spot. Add in a car-centric lifestyle—people drive everywhere—and the fact that the big malls are in the larger hubs, and folks from the neighboring towns all flock in.

Result: even if you arrive early, you can easily spend thirty minutes just waiting to park. It’s a bit scary.

I used to ride with Ken to this mall; weekends were bad enough, but Golden Week, Obon, New Year’s—wall-to-wall bodies. Not great memories.

Second: women usually take longer to get ready.

Back when Ken was alive, the two of us often waited while Shiho finished up.

Neither of us was the type to fuss about time; Ken even kind of liked waiting. Especially before heading out—he never minded if it took a while.

He used to say, “It just means she’s putting care into it, right?”

Women take their time because they want to show up as their best selves.

If it’s a date, it means she’s dressing up for you. Ken said there’s nothing nicer, as a guy. It’s fun, too, imagining how she’ll look while you wait. Of course, he warned me, “Don’t say that out loud—it’ll make her self-conscious.”

As his kid brother, I honestly thought that mindset was cool.

Looking back, Ken really wasn’t the sort to see the world through a negative lens.

“But seriously, isn’t that laying it on a bit thick?”

Maybe because I’d fed Chikuwa her absolute favorite this morning, she was totally ignoring me.

Anyway—getting off track. Even if the lot ended up full because Shiho took a little longer, I wouldn’t mind. Waiting’s fine. But Shiho obviously wouldn’t see it that way.

Even if I say “no problem,” the one doing the making-you-wait still feels bad.

I was thinking about that while watching Chikuwa when—

“Thanks for waiting, Minoru.”

Light footsteps came down the stairs, and then Shiho’s voice.

I glanced toward the entryway—and couldn’t look away.

She wore a bright, spring-colored blouse with a long skirt in a calmer tone. The open collar lent a mature edge that made me look twice.

What stood out were her glossy black hair, the earrings winking at her ears, and lipstick a shade brighter than usual. I don’t know women’s fashion, but she gave off a poised, elegant-woman vibe.

She tucked her hair behind her ear with her right hand; the engagement ring on her ring finger glinted, same as always.

“How do I look?”

She stepped in front of me and did a small turn, long hair swaying.

This little pre-outing outfit check was a ritual from when Ken was alive.

But—

“It really suits you. Very spring. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you. Makes all the effort feel worth it when someone says so.”

I caught myself staring harder than usual, and it surprised me.

Maybe… because Ken’s words were echoing in my head.

“Something wrong?”

“No, nothing.”

I shook off the sudden ache.

“Shall we?”

We checked we had everything, told Chikuwa to hold down the fort, and headed out.

In the lot, Shiho’s car was parked next to the one Ken used to drive.

It was a domestic kei tall wagon—long for a kei car, roomy inside, sliding doors for easy loading. Perfect for errands or short trips.

Mint green with white two-tone paint—cute, and apparently popular with women.

Shiho hopped into the driver’s seat; I took shotgun and buckled up.

“Come to think of it, this is your first time in my car, right, Minoru?”

“Yeah. When it was the three of us, we always took Ken’s.”

“Don’t underestimate me. I’m a good driver—promise.”

She grinned proudly over the wheel, which—if anything—made me nervous.

I felt bad thinking it, but it sounded like the setup for a punchline.

Rude or not, I had my reasons.

Like how she’d pulled in nose-first even though there was space to back in. If both sides had cars and it was tight, I’d get it. With one side open, though, it just screamed “not great at backing in.”

Not that I have any standing—I don’t even have a license.

“You look like you’ve got something to say.”

“Uh, no… I’m sure you’re a great driver.”

“‘Sure’? That means you don’t believe me at all!”

Shiho puffed out her cheeks, mock-indignant.

“Fine. I’ll show you how good I am.”

Still huffy, she set her left hand on the back of my seat and looked over her shoulder.

She leaned closer than I expected, and I reflexively pulled back. Kei cars are narrower than regular ones, so the gap between seats is small; to check behind her, she had to twist into an awkward pose—naturally bringing us closer.

It was like the reverse of that “top moments that make women swoon while he’s driving” list.

My heart was thundering in a way it never had.

“Huh? Minoru, your face is red. You okay?”

“I-I’m fine… don’t mind me.”

“Really? Tell me if you feel sick.”

Right. I was just startled. Not because my mind went anywhere it shouldn’t.

It definitely wasn’t the smooth skin at close range, or the sweet scent—part perfume, part her—stirring up anything… Okay, fine, maybe a little of both. But any guy would have a reflex like that, no matter who it is.

It’s not that I harbor any improper desire for my brother’s former fiancée.

Still… I guess this sort of thing is bound to happen if we live together.

“See? Clean out of the spot!”

While I was wrestling with myself, she’d backed out just fine.

“I feel… kind of bad.”

“What are you apologizing for?”

She tilted her head, clueless about my inner turmoil.

On the road to the mall, I couldn’t help worrying about what the future might bring.

✽

When we arrived, the parking lot was, predictably, packed.

For the record, this is one of only two big commercial complexes in our city. There’s a cinema, a big-box electronics store, even hot springs—something for everyone. Weekday or weekend, people stream in from all over, and just finding a spot takes work. On weekends there are often events, and parking becomes a nightmare.

Sure enough, it took us twenty minutes to snag a space in the multistory lot.

Honestly, that was fast. Count our blessings.

“Where should we start?”

Inside, even though it had just opened, it was already crowded. Young couples pushing strollers, whole families, pairs of lovebirds, clusters of students—I picked my way through and asked Shiho, who was leading the way.

“Let’s hit the home-goods store first and grab the small stuff.”

“Makes sense. The usual place?”

“Yup. Let’s do it.”

Her long hair swayed—she was in good spirits.

I followed her onto the escalator to the second floor.

From the entrance, I could see the place already packed with young women.

No surprise—it’s a nationwide chain aimed at women, selling cute furniture and decor, with aisles of tempting things. You could outfit an entire apartment from this one shop. They’ve also got plenty that’s unisex or designed for men to use easily—great if you want matching couple items.

It was one of Ken and Shiho’s favorite haunts, too.

“What are you thinking of getting?”

I grabbed a basket by the door and asked.

“Let’s see… I made a note so I wouldn’t forget.”

Right—I’d seen her typing a list into her phone last night.

She pulled out her phone and glanced down.

“For bigger items: curtains, and a rug under the dining table. Smaller stuff: dishes, glasses, new sheets and a duvet cover… and maybe a reed diffuser.”

She rattled off a few other bits and bobs.

“Let’s get everything we can here in one go.”

“If you get tired, feel free to take a break.”

“I’m fine. I’ll do the heavy lifting—take your time.”

“Thanks.”

We started making the rounds.

Shiho’s the type who takes her time—looping back, comparing, wavering. To someone who doesn’t know her, it might look indecisive; it isn’t. Unless she genuinely loves something, she won’t buy. She’s all about how it feels.

In that way she seems like Ken, but there’s a fine difference.

I remember once they traveled together—just the two of them. They wanted to buy a piece of local craft—a wood carving—and spent over an hour choosing. In the end it was a pair of crescent-moon earrings. She loved them; I saw her wear them all the time.

When I asked why that pair, she said, “Because wearing them makes me feel calm.”

Ken chose things for longevity; Shiho chooses them for how they make her feel.

Although they both cherish their things, at heart they’re a little different.

“Minoru, come here a sec.”

I was absentmindedly browsing when I heard Shiho call me.

I looked over to see her waving from an aisle a short distance away.

“Find something you like?”

“Don’t you think this is lovely?”

When I walked up, she held out a glass for me to see.

Most glasses you picture are clear, but this one shaded from a transparent rim into pink, then down to pure white at the base.

It looked like a soft snowscape dusted with cherry petals—irresistibly charming.

“I think it looks great. Do you really like it?”

“Mm-hm. I do, but…”

Shiho’s gaze slid back to the shelf, her expression clouding.

She was clearly torn.

“They seem to sell them in sets of three.”

I checked the display: sure enough, three to a set.

There were two other gradients in the same design—blue and green. It looked like a nicely made, gift-ready set, priced at 8,000 yen for the lot.

Pricey, yes, but good quality—and reasonable if you’re getting three.

“I like them, but if I’m only going to use one, buying the whole set is a bit…”

She put the glass back—then, a moment later, drifted back to stare at them again.

“Hmm…”

She murmured to herself like that three times, stuck in a loop.

Even after we’d picked up and paid for the other necessities, she was still wavering.

It was obvious she really loved the glass; she just hated the idea of the extras going to waste.

“I’ll cover half. How about I use the blue one?”

“Huh? You like them too, Minoru?”

“We were a two-guy household—nothing this pretty in our cupboards. I figured it’d be nice to have a glass like this for special occasions. And even if that leaves one extra, we can save it for guests.”

“Really!?”

Her indecision vanished into a smile.

“In that case, let me give you one as a present!”

“No, no, it’s fine—I’ll pay half.”

“Don’t be shy. Think of it as a housewarming gift for me—wait, that sounds like I should be getting the gift… Okay! Let’s call it a memento of us starting to live together. Let me buy it for you.”

Arms wrapped around the box like a prize, she made it clear she was paying.

A memento of living together, huh… With her putting it that way, refusing would just be rude.

And Shiho can be weirdly stubborn—she wasn’t going to budge.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. Let’s use them tonight and toast to our new life.”

She trotted off to the register, and the sight warmed me more than I expected.

I turned to wait outside the store.

“Hm…?”

A prickle of someone’s gaze made me look up.

But there was no one there.

“…Just my imagination?”

It had felt a little too real to be a mistake.

Did someone we know spot us?

“What’s wrong, Minoru?”

Shiho peered at me as she came back with the bag.

“It’s nothing.”

“Okay. If you say so.”

Probably just my imagination… It’s not like there’d be anything wrong with being seen, but the thought of having to explain later sounded like a hassle. Maybe that’s why I’m oversensitive about people’s eyes on us.

I told myself that and let it go.

After that, we made the rounds of a bunch of shops.

At the drugstore we grabbed Shiho’s usual shampoo and body wash; at the cosmetics counter she restocked her makeup; at a clothing store we picked out loungewear and pajamas.

By late morning our hands were full, so we ran the haul out to the car.

Then we headed to a set-meal place in the mall to refuel.

“Wow, it’s busy.”

“Yeah—this one’s especially popular.”

We sat in the waiting area flipping through menus the staff had handed out.

Besides its staples, the restaurant rotates part of the menu with the seasons, so you can enjoy something different year-round. Lots of regulars. We eat here a lot too.

Ken and I always loved their simmered chicken cutlet set.

“Decided yet, Minoru?”

“I think I’ll stick with the simmered chicken katsu set. You going with the seafood bowl again?”

“Yep. With a menu this big—changing with the seasons and all—and yet we always end up ordering the same things.”

“Every time I think I should branch out…”

Exactly as she said.

Soon it was our turn.

We were shown to a two-top by the window, placed our order, and waited twenty minutes.

“Mmm♪ This looks so good!”

Shiho’s face lit up at the sight of her seafood bowl.

Tuna, salmon, sweet shrimp, and scallops blanketed the rice, with a heap of salmon roe and a dab of wasabi in the middle. You could sprinkle on the bonito flakes they provided to taste.

Shiho loves piling on the flakes, and today was no exception. A light loop of soy sauce, hands pressed together.

“Itadakimasu!”

She took a bite, covered her mouth delicately, and wore a blissed-out look.

Watching her eat that happily was contagious. I dug into my chicken katsu.

The crisp-fried cutlet had soaked up the miso broth, turning tender and melt-in-your-mouth.

The miso’s richness was there without getting cloying, and the sauce wasn’t too salty—probably thanks to the egg simmered with it. The gentle flavor was deeply soothing.

The cabbage under the cutlet had a mild sweetness that balanced the miso.

Just as I was savoring that familiar taste, I felt that odd gaze again.

“……”

Shiho was eyeing my plate, biting her lower lip with a longing look.

Right—she used to beg Ken for a piece of his cutlet.

“…Want a bite?”

“Can I!?”

Her smile popped like an anime sound effect.

I slid the tray toward her for easier reach, and she thanked me as she reached in with her chopsticks.

She held the cutlet up to admire it first, then took a bite—and joy lit her face. Even without words, that expression said, “So good.” It was the exact same smile she used to wear when she shared a piece with my brother.

Back then I only watched that smile from the side. Now it was turned toward me.

“Sharing really does make everything taste better.”

“Yeah.”

She passed me a slice of sashimi in return, and we compared notes between bites.

Same dishes as always, and yet—somehow—

Everything tasted better than usual today.

By afternoon, with our shopping done, we wandered the mall.

Come to think of it, this was the first time Shiho and I had gone out alone together.

Maybe that’s why—walking side by side—I noticed just how many eyes followed her.

From the moment Ken introduced her, I’d thought she was both cute and beautiful. But seeing, in person, how many men she drew double-takes from made it sink in.

When she’s focused, there’s a cool, striking beauty to her; when she smiles, it’s disarmingly pure.

Not just men—women would find her charming, too.

Next to her, a kid like me felt out of place, and I shrank a little. Maybe that’s why… I drifted a step behind her without thinking.

“Time to pick up dinner ingredients and head back.”

Shiho suddenly slowed and fell in beside me.

I checked my phone—past five already.

“Good call. I don’t think there’s much else we need.”

We headed to the grocery section.

Since we’d decided to celebrate our new life tonight, we splurged on a party platter—mostly fried goodies and other small bites, piled high.

Shiho isn’t usually much of a drinker, but she said today was special and grabbed a bottle. I think she wanted an excuse to christen the new glasses.

“Oh! If we’re celebrating, we need cake, too!”

As I was bagging the groceries, Shiho exclaimed like she’d just remembered.

“I’ll run to the cake shop. Can you finish packing the bags?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks. I won’t be long—take a breather.”

With that, she trotted off.

I packed up, then took a seat on a bench along the concourse.

“…Didn’t realize it got this late.”

I let out a small sigh, half to myself.

Like I said—I didn’t expect to get so caught up in shopping that I lost track of time. It surprised even me.

They say time flies when you’re having fun, but more than fun, I think being with Shiho gave my mind less room to circle back to Ken.

If I’d been alone at home, I would’ve replayed everything whether I wanted to or not.

No—that’s not it…

More precisely, there just wasn’t much space for bleak thoughts today.

All day, I’d thought of Ken—getting up, heading out, even in the middle of errands. I guess it’s because Shiho and I share so many memories of him.

But it wasn’t the kind of remembering that drags you down a spiral. It felt… like recalling happy times.

Of course, thinking of him isn’t free of pain.

But with Shiho beside me, the good memories came up, too.

When I was by myself, there was only the ache.

“This is all thanks to Shiho…”

I felt that from the bottom of my heart.

Being around her was like standing in warm spring light—safe and calm.

Because she chose to stay by my side, I felt, even in just two days, like I’d been pulled back from the brink. I was deeply grateful—and yet I couldn’t help wondering: what’s in Shiho’s heart right now?

“Does being with me… make her think of Ken and hurt all over again?”

We’d both lost someone irreplaceable.

That doesn’t mean our feelings line up perfectly.

And why did she decide to live with me?

After losing the one she loved, how is she still able to smile?

Once I settled down, the questions kept coming.

“…She’s taking a while.”

After mulling things over, I realized Shiho still hadn’t returned.

A glance at my phone—thirty minutes gone.

Maybe the cake shop was slammed… but even so, that’s long.

Did something happen—?

It’s a crowded mall; the odds of trouble are low. Still, once the thought took root, I couldn’t sit still. I grabbed the shopping bags and stood.

The cake shop was a little past the food court.

On my way, I spotted Shiho by the walkway, talking to a man.

They looked like they’d been at it for a while—an acquaintance?

“Come on, just a minute won’t kill you.”

“I said no. Please move.”

Hearing that, I doubted it.

Shiho’s face was clearly troubled.

“An hour, then—half an hour—at least give me your number—”

“Someone’s waiting for me. Please stop bothering me.”

So: a random guy hitting on her.

With someone like Shiho, I guess that’s par for the course.

She didn’t back down, firmly refusing; he, on the other hand, wouldn’t take a hint, persistent to the point of ironclad.

As a fellow man, I get the impulse to talk to a beautiful woman—maybe a little.

Setting aside that she used to be my brother’s fiancée, even to me Shiho is objectively attractive. If we passed on the street, I’d look twice—three times, even.

Understanding doesn’t mean I can ignore it.

“Shiho.”

I stepped into her line of sight and called out.

“Minoru—!”

She slipped behind me at once, out of the man’s reach.

Feeling her hand tremble as it gripped the back of my shirt shocked me into losing my cool.

Of course… no matter how used to it you are, being cornered by a stranger is scary.

I put myself between them, like a shield.

“He’s hassling you, right…?”

“Yeah. I’ve said no, but he won’t quit…”

“Got it. Please stand back.”

I take back what I thought earlier.

I might understand the urge to approach someone—but a guy who keeps pushing after she’s made herself clear? I have zero interest in understanding him.

It’s not like me, but I met his eyes with open hostility.

“And who are you supposed to be?”

“Good question. Knowing she’s not interested, what exactly are you trying to do?”

“What I do is none of your business, kid.”

I’d interrupted his little game, apparently.

He glared, all pretense dropped—the smile he’d aimed at Shiho was gone.

I had no intention of forgiving him, but I didn’t want this to blow up either.

I tried to think of a way to end it cleanly. Public place—no making a scene. Not that I planned to, but if he laid a hand on me, I couldn’t promise I wouldn’t swing back. That would be worse.

No fight, no fuss, no getting physical—and he gives up. If that existed, Shiho wouldn’t be in this bind.

Well… there is one way, but coming from me, it lacks punch.

“Ah, I get it. You’re her little brother, right?”

The guy nodded to himself, like it all made sense.

“No way a runt like you is her boyfriend—”

He’d barely finished sneering when—

Shiho suddenly took my arm and declared, loud and clear:

“He is my boyfriend!”

““Eh—?””

We shouted in unison—him in startled outrage, me in sheer confusion.

No… I *had* thought of pretending to be her boyfriend. But I’m younger than she is, so even if I claimed to be her boyfriend—

It wouldn’t feel real—and if it *were* real, that’d be a serious problem, wouldn’t it?

Judging by the guy’s face, he was clearly thinking, *No way, you’re a grown woman.* I’m not about to defend some random creep, but on the ethics front he wasn’t wrong.

If he’s got that much sense of propriety, though, why can’t he grasp that she doesn’t want this?

Anyway—depending on how it looked, the police could’ve taken an interest.

…Mostly in us.

“I’m only into younger boys!”

Ignoring my internal panic, Shiho delivered the coup de grâce all on her own.

Announced so boldly, it left the guy speechless.

“So that’s that. If you want to flirt, pick someone else.”

With that, she hooked her arm through mine and marched us away.

Back in the parking lot, by the car, she finally let go and exhaled.

“Thanks, Minoru… He really wouldn’t let up. It was a pain.”

“You were gone so long I figured something might’ve happened. I’m glad I could help but… saying that kind of thing in public—maybe not great?”

“That kind of thing?”

She tilted her head, cute as a question mark.

I was shocked she hadn’t realized, but if she *had* said it on purpose, that would’ve been worse.

“In this day and age, anything that sounds like you’re involved with a minor is… sensitive.”

“Sensitive… these days…?”

She still looked lost—until, a few beats later—

“N-no, wait! That’s not what I meant!”

It finally hit her what an outrageous line she’d tossed out. Her face exploded red as she scrambled to explain—like delayed-onset embarrassment.

“It was just a joke to make him back off, okay? An emergency tactic—I am *not* only into younger boys. Same age or older is totally on the table, don’t worry!”

“I’m not sure that makes me feel any better.”

I really could’ve kept my mouth shut, but the comeback was out before I could stop it.

She clutched her head, let out an “aaagh,” and squatted down. After a moment she mumbled, dejected, “I just couldn’t think of anything else…”

Most days she’s steady and mature; sometimes there’s a precocious innocence; and then there are moments like this, where she’s adorably airheaded. All those facets at once.

The contrast made my chest go warm, and I couldn’t help a small smile.

“Kidding. I don’t doubt you—promise.”

“…Really? Absolutely? You’re not just saying that?”

She lifted her head and looked up at me with eyes so glossy they were on the verge of tears.

That unintentional, straight-to-the-lizard-brain gaze made my heart race.

Heat clenched deep in my chest and climbed; my cheeks—and even my ears—were burning. I turned away, fixing my eyes on anything else.

No—this isn’t because I’m swooning over Shiho.

It’s just a dumb male reflex, that’s all.

“Huh? Minoru, you’re blushing.”

“N-no, I’m not…”

“Come to think of it, your face was red before we left, too.”

“Don’t worry about it… C’mon, let’s go home.”

I dove into the passenger seat and stared out the window so she wouldn’t see.

The heat wouldn’t die down, and I couldn’t bring myself to face her all the way home.

Who knew the day would end with both of us taking turns in public embarrassment?

✽

“Chikuwa, we’re home!”

The moment we stepped in, Shiho called out, and the cat came trotting over with a chorus of “mrow mrow,” nose immediately buried in the shopping bags.

“I got you treats, too. You can have some later.”

Shiho scooped up both the bags and the cat and headed for the living room.

“It’s about that time—let’s start dinner.”

“Yeah. Let’s split the work.”

Once everything was ready, we threw a little party to mark the start of our life together.

We laid out the party platter and the cake. I poured juice into the new glasses from the home-goods store; Shiho poured umeshu soda. “Cheers,” and a gentle clink.

We’d had meals and little parties like this at home before.

But unlike before, one of the three chairs was empty.

We both felt that strange pang—maybe “incompletion” is the word—but neither of us said it out loud.

Two hours later, Shiho’s eyes were going glassy from the alcohol. Thirty minutes after that—

“Shiho?”

When I came back from the bathroom, she was slumped over the table.

“Out cold, huh…”

I grabbed the throw from the sofa and draped it over her shoulders.

Some of it was the booze, but we’d been running nonstop for two days.

A weekend that should’ve been for rest had turned into constant motion; of course she was exhausted. With her spirits so high today—and looking after me on top of it—she had to be worn out.

I cleaned up quietly so I wouldn’t wake her. From the kitchen, I glanced over and saw Chikuwa had jumped onto the table, curled up against her side.

When I finished tidying, I eased back into my seat, careful not to disturb them.

Watching their peaceful sleeping faces, a thought took shape.

—Why did Shiho move in with me?

No—that’s not quite the question.

At the funeral, she said, “From now on, I’ll stay by your side in Ken’s place.”

She didn’t mean moral support at a distance, or “call me and I’ll come.” She meant it literally: live together.

So the real question is: why did she want to take care of me for Ken?

And she’d already given an answer.

—Ken asked me to stay by your side.

That line has been snagging in my head since yesterday.

Because my brother—Ken Nanase—would never say that.

Shiho and I hadn’t become family in any legal sense. He wasn’t the type to hand me off to his fiancée and bind her future.

If anything, he would’ve wanted us to live freely, without strings.

He left enough money that I could manage alone.

Sure, like she said, I’m still a minor; I’ll run into various hurdles.

And yes, I do need an adult like Shiho to act as my guardian.

But most of what’s ahead can be handled with government support and money. When I learned he didn’t have long, I even researched how to live on my own so he could go in peace.

So Ken had no reason to “entrust” me to Shiho.

I shifted my gaze from her to the household altar.

“Brother… what were you thinking?”

I asked the smiling face in the photo.

I knew there’d be no answer—but I asked anyway.

“Mmm…”

She let out a faint sound, a sleepy murmur.

“Ken… I will…”

I thought I’d woken her, but after whispering those few words, she slipped back into sleep.

I watched her peaceful face and kept turning the question over in my mind until late into the night.