Chapter 3: Each Person’s Ten Years

The sun shining in the eastern sky announces the start of a new day.
It feels refreshing to walk while breathing in the clear morning air. When I was working at the company, I was always preparing for the first delivery around this time. Without punching the timecard.
“Hey, you’re on duty today, Yuu-kun. Waking up early, how admirable!”
“Nah, I’m still sleepy.”
Mahiru’s mother, Ryuushaku Asuka, is, as always even after ten years, endowed with quite the impressive assets. The shape of her undergarments peeking through her tight T-shirt is a bit too much for the eyes.
“If I knew Yuu-kun was coming, I would’ve sent Mahiru instead. She’s got afternoon practice today, so she should be at home.”
“Mahiru’s aiming for the Spring High, right?”
“It’s her last year, so she’s really fired up.”
It’s just past 6 a.m., and the night has fully given way to morning. Even in summer, it’s still slightly chilly at this hour. Eventually, Asuka-san and I arrive at the nearby park. We place a radio-cassette player on the ground near the center.
“Is this spot okay?”
“Yes, this should do. People will probably start gathering soon.”
Today, I was roped into helping with the neighborhood’s morning radio exercise duty. It’s the turn for the Aritsuki and Ryuushaku families, but my parents are busy preparing the shop, so I’m taking their place.
“By the way, about the meeting for tonight’s summer festival—did you hear the time’s been changed?”
“Yeah, I saw it on the neighborhood circular.”
“Good, then. Is Sayaka-san coming?”
“Yep.”
After chatting for about ten minutes, the kids start showing up.
“Good morning!”
“Good morning!”
“Hey, it’s… Yuu-san! Morning!”
Among them are Misora and two of her friends. If I remember correctly, the one with the black ponytail is Tatsuki, and the one with the headband is Mei. The three of them came by bicycle, and three cute-colored bikes are parked at the entrance.
“Good morning!”
“G’morning…”
“Hey, morning!”
Tatsuki is full of energy, but Mei still looks like she hasn’t gotten enough sleep.
“Yuu-san’s on duty today?” Misora asks.
“Yep.”
“Hmm.”
“Is Miya up yet?”
“Probably still sleeping. My sister is such a slob. I always have to wake her up after I finish radio exercises.”
“Wow, Misora-chan, you’re like the older sister.”
“For real!”
I’ve heard that younger siblings often turn out to be the more responsible ones. The more mischievous the older sibling, the more the younger one grows up taking them as a cautionary example. As an only child, I wouldn’t know, though.
“Alright, let’s get started.”
It looks like everyone’s here, so we begin the radio exercises. I press the switch on the cassette player, and after a moment, nostalgic music starts playing.

＊

The kids line up to get their stamp cards marked for today.
“Here you go.”
“Thanks!”
After getting her stamp, Misora takes something out of the basket of her bike parked at the entrance.
“Alright, let’s do this!”
In her hand is a basketball.
“Huh? Misora-chan, you play basketball?”
“Yeah, I’m on the elementary school’s mini-basketball team.”
“Nice!”
Looking closely, the ball’s surface is dirty with sand and worn out. It’s clearly been used a lot. Leading Tatsuki and Mei, Misora runs toward the hoop at the far end of the park. The pleasant sound of the ball bouncing, damu damu, reaches my ears.
I stamp the last kid’s card.
“I’ll pass this on to the next house, okay?”
“Oh, I can do it.”
“No worries, it’s our neighbor.”
“Thanks.”
Asuka-san heads off, and I’m about to leave too when—
“Hey, Yuu-san, grab it!”
Tatsuki’s voice calls out.
“Hm?”
Looking down, I see the ball rolling toward me, so I pick it up.
“Throw it back!”
It’s been a while since I’ve touched a basketball. It’s a kids’ size, smaller than standard, but the rough texture makes my chest feel warm with nostalgia.
I give it a bounce on the ground. The ball kicks up sand with a damu as it springs back. The vibration in my palm feels good.
“Yuu-san, pfft, what, can’t reach it?”
Misora says with a half-smirk.
“You’re asking for it.”
Before I know it, I’m dribbling. I weave past Tatsuki and Mei, who come running, and head for the hoop.
“What?! For an old guy, you’re pretty cocky!”
Misora steps in front of me. Unlike the other two, she knows how to lower her stance properly. As expected from someone with mini-basketball experience. But she’s still just an elementary school girl.
“Hah!”
“Here!”
“What!?”
I slip past her easily with a roll turn.
“Here!”
“What!”
I go for a layup, and the ball swishes through the net, hitting the ground.
“Wow, that was awesome!”
Tatsuki cheers.
“You spun around!”
Mei says with wide eyes.
“That move… Yuu-san, are you, like, experienced?”
Misora, still frozen in her stunned expression from being passed, asks.
“I was in the basketball club in high school.”
I spin the ball on my fingertip. Despite over a decade of not playing, I can still move decently.
“Ugh, one more time!”
Frustrated, Misora’s eyebrows twitch.
“Alright, I’ll show you what an adult can do.”
As Misora dribbles, she says,
“Tatsuki, Mei, you guys join in too!”
“What? Three against one?” Tatsuki asks.
“Yuu-san can handle it alone, right?”
Mei says in her dreamy voice.
“It’s a kid’s privilege. That’s fine, right, Yuu-san?”
“No problem at all. Bring it on.”
Sure, it’s three against one, but kids versus an adult? The skill gap is massive, and I could dominate them if I wanted to. But I’m not the kind of grown-up who goes all-out against kids.
“Tatsuki, move to the side!”
“Wah!”
“Mei, pass!”
“Ugh!”
Judging by their movements, Tatsuki and Mei are beginners. I’ll hold back just enough to keep it competitive.
The ball goes to Misora.
“Just so you know, I don’t need you going easy on me.”
Busted.
“Alright, guess I’ll get serious.”
“Cocky for an old guy!”
Misora fakes left and right.
“…”
“…”
She dips low to the right, trying to break past. Her speed and sharpness are impressive, but not enough to escape an adult’s reach.
Blocked!
“Mei!”
“Huh?”
Just when I thought I’d completely cut off her path, Misora passes the ball through my legs.
Crap, that was her plan!
The ball reaches a wide-open Mei.
“Take that!”
Her awkward shot sails straight into the hedge beyond the hoop.
“What are you doing?!”
“S-Sorry, I missed.”
“Sigh.”
“Nice one, Misora-chan. Here.”
I fish the ball out of the hedge and hand it to her.
“How long have you been playing?”
“I started in second grade, so about a year and a bit.”
That level of skill in just a year? She’s got real talent. Hard to believe she’s Miya’s little sister.
“You’re pretty good yourself, Yuu-san.”
Misora grins slyly.
That’s when it happened.
“Hey!”
A lively voice cuts through the quiet morning air. That voice… it’s Mahiru. Dressed in a tracksuit, Mahiru comes jogging toward us.
“Mahiru-chan!”
Misora runs up and hugs her around the waist.
“What’s up, Mahiru? Out this early?”
“Huh? Oh, I was just going for a morning jog. Then I saw everyone here.”
Mahiru’s hair is slightly damp, and as she gets closer, I catch the pleasant scent of soap.
She must’ve showered. Who showers before a run? What a clean freak.
“Wanna join, Mahiru-chan?”
Misora hands her the ball.
“Sure.”
“Then how about a one-on-one with me?”
“Mahiru-san, you play basketball too?”
Tatsuki asks.
“Nah, just a bit in gym class.”
This could be a more interesting match than with the kids, but even Mahiru’s probably a beginner at basketball. I’ll go easy on her, like with Misora and the others.
“Hah!”
“What!?”
Mahiru swats my layup out of the air from the side.
“Here!”
“Whoa!”
She fakes a shot, and as I jump, she slips past me diagonally.
No way. A beginner faking me out?
And then—
What I see when I turn around is unbelievable. Mahiru, still holding the ball, jumps toward the hoop.
No way, that’s impossible.
Sure, her volleyball training gives her crazy jumping power, but there’s no way. The hoop’s designed for kids, so it’s not even three meters high, but still…
There’s no way—
“Take that!”
She slams the ball in, and the rim shakes violently. A perfect dunk.
“Wow, Mahiru-chan!”
“Whoa!”
“You were jumping so high!”
“Aw, shucks.”
“So cool!”
“Aw, shucks.”
“Grr…”
Stealing all the kids’ admiration when I’m the experienced one here?
“Mahiru, one more time!”
“Alright, fine.”
I try a roll turn and go for a layup, but Mahiru catches up instantly and jumps.
Her height and explosiveness are overwhelming. In a flash, she’s higher than me, blocking the hoop—or so I thought.
“Ah, Ma-Mahiru!”
“Eek!”
She overcommits, and we collide midair. My face gets sandwiched between two soft, warm “balls.” Pushed back by the cushy wall, I fall on my butt.
“Whoa, what an intense block!”
“Mahiru-chan, so cool!”
“Haha, Yuu-nii, you okay?”
“Y-Yeah…”
Blushing, Mahiru holds her chest.
“S-Sorry about that.”
“Huh? What for?”
“Well, uh…”
“It’s fine, I don’t mind at all…”
Mahiru looks down and away.
“R-Really?”
“Alright, let’s do a team game next!”
Misora suggests, still buzzing with excitement.

＊

After that, Aritsuki and Mahiru were too conscious of each other, and their game was totally off.

2

It happened when I went to hang out at Moonlight Terrace. Today, Mahiru’s at club practice all day, and Asaka has something to do, so I’m here alone.
“Here, Miya.”
“Thanks.”
After lunch, Yuu-nii brings me some shaved ice. Mine’s strawberry milk with lots of condensed milk. His is matcha milk.
“Ahh, it’s giving me brain freeze!”
“It does that.”
Apparently, the headache you get from eating ice cream or shaved ice has an official medical term: ice cream headache. They say it happens because eating cold things chills your body, causing blood vessels to dilate to maintain body temperature, which triggers the headache.
“Yours looks tasty too.”
“Hm? Want some?”
“Huh?”
Yuu-nii holds out a spoonful of his shaved ice toward me.
“Here.”
“Really?” I hesitate a bit.
Wait, wait, wait—this is basically an indirect kiss, right? When we were kids, I wouldn’t have cared, but… does Yuu-nii not care?
I sneak a glance at his face, and it’s the same old, usual, spaced-out expression. Somehow, I feel embarrassed for being the only one overthinking this.
It’d be weird to refuse now, so I quickly bring my mouth to the spoon.
Chomp.
“Tasty?”
“…Yeah, delicious.”
I can’t even taste it. It’s supposed to be cold, but my tongue feels tingly and hot. Yet, somehow, it’s delicious. Even after swallowing, my mouth feels warm. No, my whole body feels flushed.
“Gimme some of yours.”
Yuu-nii starts digging into my shaved ice.
“Hey, you took the part with all the condensed milk!”
“Fuhahaha!”
After finishing the shaved ice, we lazily watch TV and chat.
“My recent recommendation is Jellyfish Don’t Freeze.”
“Yuu-nii, that’s pretty old, you know?”
“Really?”
“I think it’s from, like, 2016. You didn’t read it?”
“Nah, when I was in Tokyo, I barely had time to read.”
The conversation shifts to our shared hobby of mystery novels, and before we know it, we’re diving into a reading session.
“Huh? What’s this?”
I was about to borrow a book from Yuu-nii’s mystery collection when I pulled one out and something else came with it from the back of the shelf. A notebook.
“A notebook?”
Why’s something like this tucked away in the bookshelf?
“Hm? Oh, Miya, hold on a sec!”
Yuu-nii’s panicking—could this be something naughty?
“What’s this?”
Flipping through it, I see names, character relationship charts, floor plans, and notes for tricks.
“You saw it…”
“Yuu-nii, is this a writing notebook?”
Yuu-nii looks away, embarrassed, his face red up to his ears. It’s kind of cute.
“Y-Yeah…”
“Cool!”
Looking closely, it’s divided by titles. Let’s see… Human Puzzle, The Murder on Execution Island, The Tragedy of Mermaid Village: The Ancient Oath and the Two Witches…
“That’s enough, give it back.”
“Ow!”
He snatches the notebook away.
“Yuu-nii, you’re writing mystery novels?”
When you’re a long-time mystery novel fanatic, you eventually want to try writing one yourself. Since joining the mystery club in high school, I’ve had my own stories published in the club magazine.
“Well, I always do fine coming up with settings and tricks, but when it comes to turning them into a story, it just… doesn’t work.”
“Oh, I get that. I was like that at first too.”
I’ve got piles of abandoned stories I started without planning. Especially with mystery novels, structure is critical, so you have to craft the plot carefully.
“At first? You write too, Miya? Oh, right, you’re in the mystery club.”
“I haven’t had much time lately with school, but I’ve written quite a bit.”
“Hmm.”
Yuu-nii crosses his arms and hums thoughtfully.
And then—
“Let me read some.”

＊

We drive to my house.
“Coming in!”
“Oh, it’s Yuu-san.”
Misora greets us, eating ice cream.
“Hey, Misora-chan.”
“If you’re here to hang out, let’s go to the park later. Wanna play basketball?”
“Later, okay?”
Huh? Since when did those two get so chummy?
Whatever. I bring Yuu-nii to my room. It’s actually the first time I’ve had him over to my room in the new house.
Being alone with Yuu-nii in my room feels different from when we’re in his room. It’s a mix of excitement and nervousness stirring in my chest.
“Uh, sit wherever.”
Yuu-nii looks around the room curiously.
This is embarrassing. I should’ve tidied up more.
“I never thought I’d get to read a mystery written by Miya. So, which one is it?”
“Oh, yeah.”
I grab a few issues of the club magazine from the shelf. They’re just cheap prints bound with string.
“Mine are…”
I show Yuu-nii the mystery stories I wrote. Since they’re all short stories in the magazine, he flips through them quickly.
“What do you think?”
Having someone read my writing right in front of me feels ticklish. It’s like Yuu-nii is stepping into the world I created, unraveling my inner thoughts. It’s a strange feeling.
“…”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“It’s good!”
“Really?”
“Yeah, the logic is sharp, and the twist where the trick flips the structure is great.”
“Ehehe.”
“What’s more, your writing is easy to read. Hard-to-read prose can kill the desire to keep going, but your writing pulls you in and makes you want to read more.”
I’m flattered. My stories are like my children, so it feels like someone’s praising my kids.
“Let me read more.”
Yuu-nii keeps reading eagerly. Later, I have him read just the setup parts and try to guess the culprit in a whodunit game.
“That was fun. But man, it makes me want to try writing again.”
“You should, Yuu-nii!”
I really want to read a mystery novel written by Yuu-nii.
“Hmm, but I’ve tried so many times and never finished…”
“Then let’s write one together!”
“Together?”
“Yeah, let’s make a mystery novel together!”
“Together… like Ellery Queen, huh?”
I spread my writing notebook on the table.
“What kind do you like, Yuu-nii?”
“Hmm, I’d say I’m into mansion mysteries. Like a mysterious family living in a creepy estate.”
“Oh, a classic, huh?”
“I’ve got tons of ideas for tricks.”
“For tricks, it’s important to have a reason and necessity for using them. For a mansion mystery, logic-heavy tricks might work better than overly elaborate ones—”
We bounce ideas off each other, refining them.
“I think the detective should be a dandy middle-aged gentleman.”
“What? No way, in classic mysteries, the detective’s supposed to be an eccentric in their thirties… Anyway, let’s hold off on characters for now.”
“I definitely want a tragic, beautiful heroine.”
“Hmm, that’s your type, huh?”
“It’s not like that!”
A tragic, beautiful heroine… feels kind of like Asaka, but no way, right?
“Yuu-nii, this trick’s a bit too outlandish.”
“You think?”
“It doesn’t fit the worldbuilding; it feels out of place.”
The world we’re creating together feels like our minds are blending, our hearts connecting. It’s almost like it’s our child—
I’m happy.
After Yuu-nii moved to Tokyo, I started visiting his room to chase his shadow and discovered mystery novels. To distract myself from the loneliness, I read through all the mystery novels in his room, and that became one of the bonds tying us together now.
For now, we’re just hanging out like siblings, but I have a vague yet certain feeling.
That is—

＊

“Yuu-san, let’s go play basketball… huh?”
I peek into my sister’s room. The two of them are asleep, leaning against each other. The table is cluttered with notebooks and papers. Were they studying or something?
My sister looks comfortable, resting her head on Yuu-san’s shoulder.
“I wanted to play basketball, but oh well, later’s fine.”
No big deal. I’ll let them sleep a bit longer. It’s not even 3 p.m. yet; there’s plenty of time. Careful not to wake them, I quietly close the door.

3

Morning at the park.
“Hmm, Tatsuki-chan is playing tennis?”
“Yes. I go to a tennis school with Mama. Our Mama is amazing, you know, she was the ace of the tennis club in high school and even went to nationals.”
Tatsuki says proudly. Beads of sweat glisten on her tanned skin, very healthy.
“That’s amazing.”
My youth was mostly first-round defeats. There were several classmates from other clubs who went to nationals, but the boys’ basketball club was a regular at losing in the first round.
“Hey Mei, you can’t sleep here.”
Misora shakes Mei’s shoulder.
“Ugh…”
Tired, Mei is leaning against the goalpost, dozing off.
“Mei seems out of battery, shall we go home?”
“Yes.”
“Umm.”
“Come on, let’s go.”
At Misora’s command, Mei and Tatsuki stand up.
“See you.”
“Bye-bye.”
“Byeee.”
“Hey.”
Seeing off the three girls, I stand alone in the park.
Recently, joining Misora and the others for basketball after radio exercises has become my morning routine. Morning exercise, when the temperature isn’t too high yet, loosens the body nicely and feels good.
It also helps with lack of exercise and wakes up my sluggish morning body, killing two birds with one stone.
“Well then.”
It’s seven thirty in the morning. The shop is closed today, so I still have time. Shall I take a walk around here? I buy a sports drink from the vending machine by the entrance to quench my thirst.
“Phew.”
The cold sports drink soaks into my body warmed from exercise. And I move my feet as I please.
Strolling leisurely through the shopping district, I enter the grounds of Sengensha Shrine. By then, the sun seems to have gotten serious, and the refreshing morning air feels like a lie as humid heat envelops the town with no escape.
My body naturally starts to sweat.
The sky is cloudless, and the vivid blue Mount Fuji is clearly visible. Children are playing in the shrine’s plaza. There’s a group playing in the water by the banks of the Kandagawa River, a cool, summery scene.
The sports drink I bought earlier has already become lukewarm. I drink the rest in one go.
“Phew, hot.”
I wipe the sweat from my neck with my T-shirt. After about an hour of walking, I’m completely sweaty. I regret not bringing a towel.
I refill water at the drinking fountain and head home.
“Phew, tired.”
Finally, my house comes into view.
First, I’ll take a shower to wash off the sticky sweat, then drink an ice-cold cider in the air-conditioned living room.
“Hey.”
A light, bird-like voice comes from behind. Turning around, Asaka is running toward me with a parasol.
“Yuu-nii, good morning.”
“Hey, Asaka.”
“Did you go jogging? You’re very sweaty.”
“No, I just walked around a bit, but it got pretty hot.”
“It’s supposed to go over thirty degrees today.”
“Seriously?”
“By the way, Yuu-nii, how is it? Me today.”
Asaka looks up at me and asks.
“How… is it?”
A white frilly sleeveless blouse with a short black tiered skirt. The blouse is tight, especially around the chest, which is hard on the eyes.
“It… it’s good, isn’t it. Stylish, and your long hair is pretty.”
“Ehehe, thank you.”
“Anyway, it’s hot, so let’s go inside.”
We enter the quiet shop. Father and Mother seem to be still asleep.
“By the way, Asaka, have you eaten—”
“Hey.”
As soon as we enter, Asaka closes the distance and hugs me.
“Hey, wait, not now. I’m all sweaty and probably smell.”
Asaka wraps her arms around my back and squeezes tightly. Really, when will this girl’s clingy habit stop?
“Not at all.”
Asaka brings her face to my neck—and a jupu sound, like sucking, rings in my ear.
“What—”
And then, a chuuu sound, like sucking, leaks out.
“Phew, it doesn’t smell bad, it’s a nice scent.”
“Hey, you, did you just suck?”
“Who knows?”
Asaka looks up at me with an innocent face.
The lingering sensation of soft lips on my neck. A sweet, floral scent rises from her long black hair, and I imagine Father and Hanayoshi-san sumo wrestling to suppress my excitement.
“Yuu-nii, want to suck too?”
“Huh?”
Saying that, Asaka tilts her head, lifting her hair with her hand.
Her neck is exposed. White, fine skin. Faintly visible veins. A small mole at the base of her ear.
“Ugh…”
“It’s okay, go ahead.”
It’s okay, she says…
My mouth, which should be dry from the heat, somehow fills with saliva.
“No one’s watching. It’s just the two of us…”
“N-No, no, no. What are you saying?”
Sucking on a high school girl’s neck, there’s no way that’s okay.
Asaka closes her eyes, as if testing me. Glossy black hair and provocative white skin. Her ample chest sways with her breathing.
Swallowing hard, I—
“Ahh, slept well.”
At that moment, Mother’s carefree voice is heard. A moment later, the sound of clomping down the stairs echoes. We both flinch with a start.
“Oh, Asaka-chan is here.”
“Good morning, ma’am.”
“Morning. Yawn, what time is it?”
Yawning loudly, Mother walks toward the kitchen. The clatter of dishes being washed is heard. Probably making breakfast.
“Too bad, Yuu-nii.”
“What’s that?”
“Ehehe, you’re going to take a shower, right?”
Pushed by Asaka, I go upstairs.

＊

Yuu-nii was cute, all flustered and red-faced.
I’m doing what I want, so I want to let Yuu-nii do what he wants too. After all, I’m already Yuu-nii’s.
Anything I can do…
I wonder what Yuu-nii likes.
While waiting in the room, I come up with an idea.
That’s it.
To know a man’s preferences, the best way is to check what he usually looks at!
Yuu-nii is a man, so he must have naughty books or naughty videos.
I get off the bed and peek underneath.
“Hmm.”
Nothing.
Just some dust and a half-read magazine. Nothing in the desk drawers or behind them either.
Then, maybe there?
I open the closet.
Bulky stuff wouldn’t be hidden in a cramped place.
It reminds me of when I was a kid, looking for Yuu-nii’s album. Back then, he hid it behind his back. Thinking about it now, it was a bit sneaky for a kid.
I carefully check the back of the clothing drawers and boxes, but nothing like that is found.
How about this?
I open the drawer with underwear. It’s packed with folded boxer briefs. So Yuu-nii is a boxer brief guy. Come to think of it, he wore boxer briefs at the villa too.
Sniff… exhale.
Nothing.
“Hmm.”
Strange.
While doing this, I hear Yuu-nii’s footsteps, so I put everything back and sit on the edge of the bed.
“Sorry to keep you waiting.”
Hehe, wet hair is nice too.
“What’s wrong, Asaka?”
“Nothing.”
“You seem a bit down.”
“Yuu-nii, you’ve upped your game, haven’t you?”
“Hm? Want a cider?”
“…I’ll take it.”

＊

Asaka didn’t know.
Right in front of her, on the bed, the smartphone left there contains all of Aritsuki’s preferences.
With the advancement of technology, the world of erotica has also entered the digital age. It’s not an exaggeration to say technology has developed alongside erotica.
No more nervously bringing adult magazines to the cashier. Now, with one tap on an online store, you can buy and download to your phone.
No need for a secret hiding place only you know, out of parents’ reach.
As someone who knows the struggles and romance of those days, the current era where everything is solved with one hand feels a bit lonely…
Anyway, Aritsuki’s preferences were protected.

4

“Even so, it was hot today, wasn’t it? I think every year, but Asaka, isn’t that long hair hot?”
I look at Asaka walking beside me. Her glossy black hair catches the sunlight, making a halo.
“It’s hot, but cutting it feels wasteful.”
I had practice this morning. In the afternoon, I enjoyed shopping and lunch with Asaka, then we stopped by our houses to drop off stuff and are heading to Moonlight Terrace.
“Well, you’ve always kept it long.”
“And Yuu-nii said my long hair is pretty…”
Asaka says with a smile.
“Hmm.”
No way, but,
“Hey, Asaka—”
“Yes?”
“Oh, never mind.”
“Okay. But on the other hand, Mahiru-chan, don’t you ever grow your hair?”
“Me? No, it’d get in the way during volleyball.”
In my seventeen years, I’ve never had anything but short hair.
“It would suit you, though.”
“No way, it’s too much trouble to maintain.”
Eventually, we arrive at Moonlight Terrace. But it’s closed today. Yuu-nii is lounging at the outdoor terrace seats, waiting.
“Hey, you guys.”
“Yuu-nii.”
Asaka runs over and clings to Yuu-nii’s arm. Really, she’s still such a kid.
“Hey Asaka, it’s hot.”
“Ehehe.”
He complains but doesn’t pull away. Yuu-nii has always been soft on Asaka. I’m a bit jealous of how Asaka can act so freely with passersby around.
“Yuu-nii, did we make you wait?”
“No, I just got here… wait, this is my place.”
“What are you saying alone?”
It’s three thirty in the afternoon.
“Where are Uncle and Auntie?”
Asaka asks.
“They already went with the neighborhood people.”
“Yuu-nii should have joined.”
“I’m good. I don’t like being in front of people. And practicing every day is tiring. As an adult, it’s more fun to watch from the outside. By the way, I’m surprised Miya participated.”
“Well, apparently our homeroom teacher registered the class for memories.”
“…That’s tough.”
“Yuu-nii, let’s hurry. It’ll start.”
“Right.”
Asaka starts walking, arm linked with Yuu-nii.
“Alright, let’s go, Miya Odori.”

＊

The main street in front of Sengensha Shrine is filled with people. Some wear headbands, some have elaborate hairstyles or festival makeup, each expressing enthusiasm in their own way.
Today, August sixth, is the “Miya Odori.”
Held every year on the first Sunday of August, this dance festival started in Heisei 4 to commemorate the city’s fiftieth anniversary. Centered on two songs choreographed by a famous choreographer, it’s a major summer event where people dance for nearly half a day. Students, local businesses, neighborhood associations, people of all ages participate. When I was a kid, I joined the neighborhood group. We practiced two hours a day in the park for the event.
It starts at four in the afternoon, beginning with the elementary and middle school students. Children from each school line up in the shopping district’s main street.
“Let’s see, the elementary school is that way.”
Mahiru walks along the sidewalk with a pamphlet. We follow her, pushing through spectators, to cheer for Misora-chan and the others. Then we spot Miya in the crowd.
“Oh, everyone.”
Miya has her long brown hair tied up in an elaborate style with a red-and-white headband. Red lines are drawn around her eyes, giving a bold impression. She wears a happi coat with the big word “Festival” printed on the back.
“You… are really into it.”
“No, it’s not like that, I didn’t want to do this. Mother forced me into this outfit.”
Blushing red, Miya makes a fuss.
“The teacher signed us up without asking…”
“Hey.”
A voice comes from the street. Looking, it’s Misora, Tatsuki, and Mei in happi coats. The kids have festival makeup and wear traditional aprons and leggings.
“Oh, cool.”
Mahiru crouches to their eye level and says.
Misora scratches her cheek shyly,
“Finally, today I’m done with practice days.”
“Do your best.”
On the opposite sidewalk are Tatchan, Haruyama Taichi, and Mirai-san. Tatchan holds a camera, and Mirai-san is dressed in festival clothes like Miya. They notice us and wave.
At four, the festival begins.
We watch the dancing from the sidewalk. A nostalgic intro starts playing. The kids dance under the harsh afternoon sunlight. The chant “rassera rassera” echoes in the summer sky. Some kids move awkwardly, unable to hide their embarrassment.
A heartwarming and nostalgic sight.
Misora’s elementary school group has moved further down the street. We set up in front of Sengensha Shrine’s parking lot. Food stalls are lined up, and there’s a restroom, so it’s the best spot.
The four of us eat shaved ice while watching the dancing.
“By the way, Yuu-nii, want yakitori? There’s a stall there.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll buy some.”
Mahiru jogs to the stall and comes back with yakitori. Yes, festival yakitori is my favorite.
“All sauce, okay?”
“Yes, thanks. Here’s the money. Keep the change.”
“No, you always treat me.”
“Just take it.”
I shove two thousand-yen bills to Mahiru.
“Nice, I want some too.”
Miya puts a hand on her stomach.
“Your outfit will get dirty, here.”
I bring a yakitori skewer to Miya’s mouth.
Chomp chomp. “Delicious.”
“Yuu-nii, me too.”
Asaka opens her mouth.
“You guys are high schoolers, aren’t you?”
I bring yakitori to Asaka’s mouth too. Holding Miya’s skewer in my right hand and Asaka’s in my left, I can’t eat…
“Yuu-nii, ahh.”
Mahiru, noticing, brings a yakitori skewer to my mouth.
“Delicious!”
But it’s embarrassing.
“Almost time for Miya’s turn?”
The kids’ section ends in about an hour, with a break, then the main event with adults in the evening.
Miya participates with her high school class group in the first half and the neighborhood group in the second half.
“Well, see you later.”
Parting with Miya, we head to the neighborhood group.
Father, Mother, Mirai-san, and other familiar adults are gathered. Misora and the others are there too, looking tired after dancing.
They surround a cart loaded with drinks and snacks, eating and drinking while waiting to start. Some, including Mother, are already chugging beer, fully in festival mood. Why do adults get more excited about these events than kids?
“Ah, tired. I’m completely exhausted.”
Misora, looking worn out, drinks a canned juice. Her bangs are stuck to her forehead with sweat. Beside her, Tatsuki and Mei kill time with a handheld game.
“Hahaha, good job.”
“All done. I want to go home. I want a bath.”
The schedule is only half done. Miya Odori goes until eight in the evening.
“By the way, Tatsuki-chan, where’s your mom?”
Mahiru looks around and asks.
“Hmm, Mama said she’s starting with the company group this year.”
“Oh, I see.”
Mahiru and Tatsuki’s mother seem to know each other. Human relationships connect in unexpected places.
Past five, the main part of Miya Odori starts.
“Yuu-nii, Miya-chan’s group is over there.”
“Let’s go cheer.”
“Yes, let’s go.”
We leave the neighborhood group to watch Miya’s class dance.
“Oh, there.”
Despite complaining, Miya is dancing enthusiastically. She’s not quite on rhythm and is the worst, though. Noticing our gaze, Miya looks down shyly for a moment but then faces us and winks.
The sun sets in the western sky. The sky’s blue deepens, and evening darkness settles, but the town’s heat and energy don’t fade.
In the second half, Miya joins the neighborhood group.
“Miya, I was watching. Don’t you have any sense of rhythm?”
“Ugh, shut up. I’m doing my best.”
“Sorry, sorry, I get it.”
“Really.”
The sky is completely dark, with stars twinkling. Before I know it, we’ve joined the neighborhood group, and I’m dancing Miya Odori for the first time in a while, feeling like a kid again.
“Huh?”
At that moment, someone taps my shoulder.
“Hm?”
Turning around, there’s a stunningly beautiful woman. Slender, with black hair tied up and draped over her shoulder.
“It’s Aritsuki-kun, right?”
“Yes?”
Who is she?
Do I know such a beauty? She seems about my age…
“Don’t remember? It’s me, me.”
“Uh, sorry.”
While saying that, I rack my brain. Her voice is familiar, and she seems to know me. The image of a tanned tennis girl overlaps with the beauty before me.
“Ah!!”
“Oh, remembered?”
“You, Shimomura?”
“Correct!”
“Shimomura, no way.”
“Haha, long time no see.”
Brushing the hair off her shoulder, Hikari gives a gentle smile.
Shimomura Hikari.
We lived in the same area and went to the same elementary, middle, and high schools, but were only in the same class in second and third year of high school. Before that, we were acquaintances but didn’t talk much.
The ace of the tennis club and the class Madonna, she was at the top of the school caste, a bright girl who shone like her name.
“Really long time. Since graduation, right?”
“Yes.”
Her once-tanned skin is now white, with a calm aura. Her light makeup is alluring. Gold earrings shine in her ears, and the classmate in my memory has grown into an adult woman. She wears a happi coat with “Shimomura Group” written on it and a red-and-white twisted headband.
“You came back in March, right?”
“You know?”
“I sometimes meet Sayaka-san at gatherings and hear about it.”
“Oh, I see.”
Her calm way of speaking feels like talking to a different person.
“Oh, yes, thanks always.”
“Huh? For what?”
“For taking care of things.”
I have no idea what she’s talking about.
“So what—”
At that moment, Tatsuki comes and hugs Hikari. Her black ponytail sways slightly.
“Mama, you’re late.”
“Sorry, sorry.”
Tatsuki looks at me with a puzzled face, but I’m probably more puzzled.
Mama, you’re late?
Is that a cherry blossom variety?
A racehorse name?
“Huh? Mama and Yuu-san know each other?”
“We went to the same school.”
“Wow, really?”
“M-Mama?”
Mama.
Mama.
Mama?
“Shimomura, no way… Tatsuki-chan is…”
It hits me like a blow to the head. A shock runs from my head to my feet.
“My child.”
…Seriously.

5

An afterparty is a must for festivals.
In a room at the community center, the neighborhood people gather for the Miya Odori afterparty. The tables are lined with catered bentos, side dishes, and snacks for drinks, and adults tilt back cans of beer with relish.

The kids, far from being bored, were enjoying themselves in their own ways—exploring the community center, which they rarely got to visit, eating with the adults, or playing games with their close friends.
“Why didn’t you come back for ten years? You didn’t even show up to the class reunion.”
“I wanted to come back, but I couldn’t. I was at a super intense black company where getting two days off a month was a good deal—”
A class reunion, huh? Yeah, I guess that’s normal.
“Tatsuki, come here for a sec!”
A slightly tipsy Hikari calls her daughter. Tatsuki, who was playing with Misora and the others, comes over reluctantly.
“What, Mama?”
The mother and daughter sit side by side. Now that I look closely in the light, they do look very similar, and Tatsuki has traces of Hikari from her high school days.
“Yuu-nii, you were playing with Tatsuki-chan without knowing she’s Hikari-san’s daughter?”
Mahiru says in disbelief, sipping her cola.
“Well, no one told me.”
“They have the same last name, don’t they?” Miya says.
“But Shimomura isn’t exactly a rare last name, and I never would’ve thought she’s her daughter…”
Wait a minute. If Tatsuki’s in the same grade as Misora, she’s nine years old in third grade. Hikari and I are turning twenty-nine this year, so that means she got pregnant the year we graduated high school and gave birth at twenty?
Hikari lifts Tatsuki onto her lap.
“Mama, were you really at the same school as Yuu-san?”
“Yup.”
“What was he like?”
“Hmm, not much different from now, I guess.”
“Hmm.”
“Oh, right, our Megumi was picked up by Aritsuki-kun in high school.”
“Eh! Really!?”
The more I look, the more alike they seem. I didn’t notice until it was pointed out, but now it’s blatantly obvious how similar they are.
“Hey, can I go now?”
Tatsuki returns to the kids’ group.
“Is your husband someone I know?”
“…!”
When I ask, the room goes silent for a moment, like it’s frozen.
“Y-Yuu-nii, you shouldn’t ask that.”
Miya says in a trembling voice.
“Huh? Why not?”
“It’s fine, it’s old news. I don’t have a husband. We broke up right after Tatsuki was born.”
Hikari says casually.
“I-I see.”
I asked something bad. So Hikari’s a single mother.
“That guy was really a total jerk.”
Hikari chugs her beer and puts an arm around Miya’s shoulder.
“Eek!”
“Miya-chan, don’t get caught by a guy like that. I’m telling you as a life senior.”
“I-I’ve heard that story like fifty times already… ugh, help!”
And so, Hikari drags Miya to a table still full of drinks and snacks.
“Talking about her husband in front of Hikari-san is taboo, especially at a drinking party like this. Looks like Miya’s the victim this time.”
Mahiru says, as if looking at something scary.
“Yuu-nii, want another drink?”
“Yeah.”
Asaka, sitting beside me, pours me a beer. I down it in one go.
“Ugh.”
I’m getting dizzy.
“You okay? Don’t drink too much.”
Mahiru peers into my face.
“I’m gonna get some fresh air.”
I step outside to cool my heated body in the night breeze. The festival’s lingering energy remains in the town. Looking toward Sengensha Shrine, it’s still a bit bright, and the faint sound of flutes and drums can be heard.
“Phew.”
My head’s still a mess.
“A kid, huh.”
Well, of course. I’m almost thirty, an age where having kids isn’t strange. Getting married, having a child, raising them…
I thought those things were still far off for me.
I was shocked that Hikari has a kid, but what shocked me more was that I was shaken by it. It’s not like I had feelings for Hikari. I like her as a person, but not as a woman, not romantically. So why am I so shocked…
It’s like, I was shocked that someone who lived the same childhood and youth as me is now a parent, looking after the next generation.
While I was in Tokyo, exhausting myself physically and mentally with nothing to show for those ten years, Hikari gave birth and raised Tatsuki as a mother.
In contrast, I’ve never even had a girlfriend. It felt like the gap in life experience was starkly shown to me.
“Sigh.”
Will I, someday, get married, have kids, and raise them in this town? I try to imagine it, but it doesn’t feel real. I’m an adult, but I can’t fully become one in the true sense.
Is it because I’ve never been in love?
Right now, messing around with Miya, Mahiru, and Asaka is fun, but one day, they’ll each fall in love, grow up, and leave me.
Thinking that, a sharp pain stabs deep in my chest.
When I return inside, Miya comes over.
“Yuu-nii.”
“Done with the talk?”
“Auntie jumped in, and I managed to slip away. Hikari-san’s story is so long, dark, and heavy—it really gets me down.”
Mother and Hikari are drinking and talking passionately about something.
“Yuu-nii, you…”
“What?”
Miya’s expression turns serious.
“Could it be… you liked Hikari-san?”
“Huh?”
“No, you just seemed really shocked.”
“No way. It’s just that it was shocking that someone my age already has a kid.”
“Oh, I see.”
Miya’s face softens.
The afterparty went on until eleven that night.