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“Onee-chan, wake up.”
The voice came softly at first, then again, a little brighter. “Wake up, Onee-chan. Or else you’ll be late for school.”
Sayo’s eyelids shifted before she slowly opened them. The ceiling above her was pale in the morning light, familiar and unchanging. She turned her head slightly. Her guitar leaned against the table by the window, its polished surface catching the faint glow of dawn.
Hina stood by the doorway, her expression brightening once she saw her sister awake. She gave a satisfied smile, a light curve of her lips that lingered for a moment, then she turned away. Without another word, she stepped out into the hall.
Sayo remained in bed for a brief moment, her eyes fixed on the door that had closed. The quiet of the room returned, filled only by the faint ticking of the clock on her desk. She lifted her gaze toward it and noted the time.
6:39 a.m.
She let out a slow breath before moving. Her legs swung over the edge of the bed, her hands smoothing the sheets as though keeping order would settle her own thoughts. Rising, she walked to the dresser, reached for her uniform, and began to prepare for the day. The ordinary rhythm of her morning carried her forward, step by step, until she left the room behind.
Downstairs, the air was cooler. The scent of the wooden floor carried a trace of last night’s meal, faint but present. She adjusted the hem of her skirt as she descended the last step, her hand trailing briefly along the rail before she let it go.
She walked into the kitchen, where Hina was already seated at the dining table. Her younger sister’s legs swung lightly beneath the chair, and her Haneoka uniform was in place, though the tie had slipped slightly to one side.
Without a word, Sayo stepped closer and adjusted the knot with steady hands. Hina remained still, her eyes following her sister’s movements until the tie lay neatly in place. When Sayo finished, Hina gave a small, satisfied smile.
“Thanks, Onee-chan.”
Sayo returned a faint smile of her own, then moved toward the counter. She slipped an apron over her uniform and tied it firmly at the back. The faint sound of utensils against the cutting board filled the room, blending with the occasional creak of the house settling in the morning air.
Hina rested her chin on her hand and watched from her seat, saying nothing more. The smell of breakfast began to spread, light and familiar, drawing a sense of calm through the room.
Sayo stirred the pan, shifted plates into place, and moved with the steady assurance of routine. At the table, Hina’s legs continued their rhythm against the chair as she hummed a tune, the sound rising softly above the quiet kitchen.
Fifteen minutes later, Sayo turned off the stove and slipped the apron from her shoulders. She carried two plates to the table, each set with rolled eggs, buttered toast, broccoli, and boiled carrots. One plate she placed before Hina, the other she set neatly at her own seat.
She crossed the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and retrieved a chilled bottle of apple juice. After closing the door, she took two glasses from the cabinet and brought them to the table. One she placed in front of Hina’s plate, the other in front of her own. She poured the juice carefully into each glass, then returned the bottle to the refrigerator.
When she sat down, she brushed a faint line of sweat from her temple with the back of her hand. The steam from the food rose softly between them.
Hina leaned forward, her voice tinged with playful complaint. “Carrots? Why do you keep putting them in lately?”
Sayo lifted her fork without answering. She pierced a slice of carrot and raised it to her mouth. The taste spread with a faint sweetness and a trace of nuttiness. She chewed slowly and swallowed. Another piece followed, then another, until the bright orange color no longer stood out against the rest of the meal.
The sound of clinking silverware filled the room, steady and even. Hina’s gaze lingered on her sister. The meal continued in silence, interrupted only by the scrape of cutlery and the occasional sip of juice.
When Sayo finished her plate and emptied her glass of juice, she rose from her chair and carried both items to the sink. The sound of water ran softly as she washed them. Once the dishes were set to dry, she stepped into the bathroom. She rinsed her mouth with water, then pressed a clean cloth to her lips until no trace of breakfast remained.
She returned upstairs, where the quiet of her room greeted her once again. Her school bag rested neatly by the table, and so did the guitar. She reached for the instrument, running her fingers briefly along the strings before setting it gently into its case. Closing the latch, she slung the case over her shoulder and picked up her bag, the weight familiar by her side. Then she turned toward the staircase. Her steps were steady as she descended, each one marked by the faint creak of the wooden boards beneath her.
At the door, she stopped for a moment. The latch was in reach, but she waited, her gaze falling briefly on the hallway behind her. Before long, Hina appeared with her bag in hand, her steps light and her expression as bright as before. She adjusted the strap on her shoulder and moved quickly to her sister’s side.
Together they left the apartment, the door closing behind them with a firm click. The morning air was clear, carrying the quiet bustle of the neighborhood as their footsteps began to fall in rhythm along the path ahead.
The sisters walked side by side through the neighborhood streets. Hina’s voice carried brightly as she laughed and pointed at small sights along the way, whether it was a shop preparing to open or a stray cat stretching in the sun. Sayo listened in silence, her eyes resting on her sister more often than on the passing scenery.
When they reached the station, they boarded the morning train and found two seats together. The train swayed gently as it moved, the sound of metal on rails filling the quiet moments between Hina’s cheerful remarks. Sayo kept her hands folded on her lap, offering only brief nods in response. At the next stop, they rose, stepped off the train, and continued on foot once more.
Their path took them to the familiar intersection where the street divided. One led toward Hanasakigawa Girl’s High School, the other toward Haneoka Girl’s School. Sayo adjusted the strap of her guitar case and began toward her usual route. Before she could take more than a step, Hina’s hand closed firmly around her own.
“Onee-chan, can I go to your school today?”
Sayo turned to her, a flicker of surprise crossing her expression. Hina’s eyes were bright and expectant, her fingers still holding tight. After a pause, Sayo gave a small smile and nodded. She did not speak, but her agreement was clear. Hand in hand, they started down the road together.
They reached the gates of Hanasakigawa Girl’s High School. The morning air was filled with the shuffle of shoes on pavement and the sound of voices carrying across the courtyard. As they walked through, several students glanced toward the disciplinary committee member passing among them. Their expressions carried something difficult to name, a brief shift of the eyes before turning away, though some lingered a moment longer before looking back at Sayo.
Sayo crossed the hall toward her classroom. When she opened the door, the usual rustle of bags and chatter fell into its morning rhythm. A few heads turned her way, eyes settling on her for a moment before sliding elsewhere.
“Good morning, Matsubara-san,” Sayo said politely as she passed Kanon’s desk.
Kanon lifted her head, a flicker of surprise crossing her face before she managed a small, awkward reply. “Good morning.” Her voice held a note of uncertainty, and her eyes quickly dropped to the notebook in front of her.
Nearby, Rinko’s hands paused over her desk. Her eyes shifted toward her bandmate, the faint movement of her lips suggesting she wanted to speak. After a breath, she lowered her gaze again and let the moment pass in silence.
“Good morning, Shirokane-san,” Sayo continued, her voice steady as she reached her seat.
Rinko’s reply came softly, her head lowered so that her hair framed her face.
“Good morning, Hikawa-san.” Her thumbs pressed together, circling one another in a quiet, nervous rhythm.
Sayo placed her bag neatly beside her desk, setting her guitar case alongside it before settling into her chair. The classroom hummed with the ordinary noise of the morning, yet the small glances directed her way lingered at the edge of her awareness.
The morning lessons passed in their steady rhythm. Literature filled the first period, followed by mathematics, each subject carrying its familiar weight of questions and answers. Sayo raised her hand when prompted, her voice measured and clear each time she spoke. The teachers acknowledged her with small nods, noting the precision of her replies, and the class returned to its ordinary pace without interruption.
Outside the door, Hina lingered quietly in the corridor. She leaned slightly toward the glass, her eyes fixed on her sister within the classroom. Each time Sayo’s answer drew approval, a bright smile spread across Hina’s face. Her hands pressed lightly against the frame as she watched, her expression alight with satisfaction. She remained there through the hours, content to observe while the lessons continued on.
Inside, Sayo’s gaze did not waver from the blackboard for long. Though she wrote carefully, her pen moving neatly across the page, her eyes sometimes drifted toward the doorway, where Hina stood watching. When their eyes met, Hina lifted her hand in a small wave, and Sayo, after the briefest pause, returned her focus to the board. Around her, classmates shifted in their seats, the sound of pages turning and chairs scraping the floor filling the background.
The clock ticked toward twelve noon, and the bell rang for lunch, students crowded the cafeteria in their usual rush. Voices echoed through the hall, and trays clattered as food was carried to every corner of the room. Sayo collected a simple meal of two sandwiches and a carton of milk, then walked to an empty table. She set down her tray and sat. Hina dropped into the chair beside her, swinging her legs and humming quietly while watching her sister unwrap her sandwich.
Sayo ate in steady bites, her attention on the food before her. Hina leaned closer, tilting her head with an easy smile that matched the rhythm of her swaying. The carton of milk remained unopened by Sayo’s hand.
A voice came from the side. “Do you mind if we sit here?” Chisato stood holding her tray, Aya behind her with a tentative look.
“Ahh, Chii-chan, go ahead, sit down,” Hina said with a cheerful laugh.
Sayo lifted her eyes and gave a small nod. Chisato lowered herself into the seat opposite her, while Aya hesitated before following, sitting carefully beside her friend.
The chatter of the cafeteria filled the spaces between them, leaving their own table quieter than the rest. Chisato glanced toward Sayo more than once, her gaze thoughtful, while Aya shifted uneasily, her smile faint.
Sayo continued to eat without comment. Hina swayed beside her, content to watch, her voice breaking into a light hum once more as the lunch period carried on.
With the last sip of her milk gone, Sayo rose from her seat and carried her tray to the return counter. Aya and Chisato watched her go, their eyes following her until she disappeared into the flow of students leaving the cafeteria. Hina trailed close behind, keeping pace with her sister as she moved down the hall.
Sayo stopped briefly at the bathroom. She stepped inside, washed her face and hands at the sink, and dried them with a folded paper towel. The cool water refreshed her before she left the room and made her way down the hall toward the student council office. Her shoes tapped evenly against the floor as she walked.
The door slid open to reveal Arisa seated at a desk inside. The younger girl raised her head at once. “Sayo-senpai?”
“You’ve worked hard, Ichigaya-san,” Sayo said in her steady voice, offering praise.
“That’s right, you really have, Arisa-chan,” Hina added cheerfully from behind her sister.
Sayo crossed the room and moved to the cabinet where a stack of documents waited. She gathered them neatly into her arms and sat down at the nearest desk. Arisa hesitated, then spoke in a quieter tone. “Sayo-senpai, you… don’t need to take care of these.”
Sayo looked up from the papers. “What’s wrong?”
Arisa blinked, caught off guard, her lips parting as if to continue. After a pause, she lowered her gaze instead and said nothing further.
Sayo turned her attention back to the documents, scanning the contents with practiced focus. Hina leaned lightly over her shoulder, peering at the pages with open curiosity, her expression bright as though she found the task far more engaging than the words on the paper suggested.
From time to time, Sayo spoke, her voice even as she confirmed details. “The committee has already approved this budget line?”
“Yes,” Arisa replied, nodding quickly. “The treasurer signed it yesterday.”
Sayo shifted to the next sheet. “And this event for next week. Do we have the location secured?”
“The gymnasium is reserved,” Arisa answered. Her tone grew steadier the longer the exchange continued, her earlier hesitation fading.
Sayo marked a small note in the margin. “Good. Make sure the posters are ready before Friday.”
“I will,” Arisa said, straightening her papers.
The room settled into a rhythm, the quiet broken only by their measured voices and the rustle of paper. Hina leaned forward, grinning as though every answer was worth celebrating, her hands clasped together on the desk.
Half an hour passed before Sayo gathered the documents into a neat stack. She rose from her chair and adjusted her skirt. “Good work, Ichigaya-san.”
Arisa gave a small bow of her head. “Thank you.”
At that moment, the bell for the afternoon period rang through the halls. The clear tone signaled the end of the break, and Sayo moved toward the door. She offered a parting word of farewell before stepping into the corridor. Hina followed at her side, her steps light and quick.
Left alone, Arisa hurried to arrange the remaining papers, her hands working to set everything in order before she returned to class. When the room was tidy, she paused, her gaze lingering on the door that had closed behind Sayo only moments earlier. Then she gathered her belongings and left for her own classroom.
The final bell released the students from their lessons, and the corridors filled with the steady sound of footsteps and voices. Sayo packed her bag carefully, sliding her books and papers into place before taking it in hand. On her shoulder rested the guitar case, the weight familiar against her side. With her work for the council already completed by Arisa, she could turn her attention to band practice.
At the doorway, Hina waited. Her cheerful expression brightened the hall, and when Sayo reached her, she took her sister’s hand.
“Let’s go.”
Sayo followed without a word. Together they left the building and stepped onto the main road that stretched between the rows of shops and houses near the school. Hina spoke with energy, her voice rising and falling with each remark. Sayo listened quietly, her eyes resting on her sister’s face more often than on the scenery around them. Every so often, her lips would curve into a small smile.
The street was crowded with students in uniforms and townspeople finishing their errands. Several glanced toward Sayo as they passed, their eyes lingering for a moment longer than courtesy required. Sayo kept her gaze steady ahead, showing no reaction to the attention, her hand still loosely held by Hina’s as they walked side by side.
Arriving at CiRCLE, Sayo stepped through the glass doors with Hina following close behind. The lobby was filled with the usual low hum of music and chatter from other bands preparing for their sessions. Sayo adjusted the strap of her guitar case and offered a polite greeting.
“Good evening, Marina-san.”
Behind the counter, Marina raised her head, surprise flickering in her eyes at the sight of her. For a moment she hesitated, then managed a greeting of her own.
“Good evening…”
Sayo inclined her head slightly in acknowledgment before continuing toward the hallway that led to the practice studios. Hina walked beside her, looking around with curiosity, her footsteps light against the polished floor. Reaching the door marked for Roselia’s reservation, Sayo placed her hand on the handle and pushed it open.
Inside, Ako, Rinko, Yukina, and Lisa froze for a moment, their eyes drawn to the unexpected sight.
“A-ah… Sayo-san?” Ako’s voice wavered.
Sayo setting her bag aside and kneeling to open her guitar case. The metal clasps clicked, and she lifted the instrument out with steady hands, placing it on her lap as she checked the strings.
Hina entered behind her and settled comfortably into a chair near the wall. She swung her legs idly, her gaze fixed on her sister with an eager smile, as though waiting for a performance.
“Sorry, I’m late.” Sayo said, her tone polite and matter-of-fact. “Let’s practice.”
The other four exchanged uneasy glances. Lisa took a small step forward, shifting her bass to one side. “Sayo-chan, you don’t have to….”
Sayo looked up, her brow faintly creased. “Hmm? What are you saying, Imai-san?” Her voice carried more doubt than irritation, her eyes searching Lisa’s face.
Lisa faltered, her mouth parting slightly before she pressed her lips together again. The weight of her hesitation showed in the way she lowered her gaze, guilt evident in her posture. After a moment, she turned toward Yukina, wordlessly appealing for support.
Yukina’s expression hardened into a thoughtful frown. Her grip on the microphone stand tightened, and her eyes remained fixed on Sayo. Ako shifted uncomfortably, her drumsticks tapping lightly against her leg, while Rinko clasped her hands together at her chest, her eyes troubled but silent.
“Don’t push yourself, Hikawa-san. You should go home and rest.”
Sayo met her leader’s gaze. “I am completely fine, Minato-san. I don’t see why there’s so much concern over me.”
The room fell silent again. Yukina did not reply at once, her attention lingering on Sayo for a few breaths longer. At last she turned away, her voice firm but subdued. “Then, it’s up to you.”
“Yukina…” Lisa said quietly, her tone carrying hesitation.
Yukina offered no further response. Her posture stiffened, and she lifted her microphone stand upright, signaling an end to the discussion.
Sayo moved into her position, adjusting the strap of her guitar and checking the tuning one final time. Lisa, though visibly uneasy, placed her bass across her shoulder and readied her fingers along the frets.
“First verse.” Yukina announced.
Ako startled slightly at the command, then hurried to settle behind her drum kit. She gave her sticks a quick spin, pressed her foot on the pedal, and struck the open crash cymbal. The rhythm gathered strength with a steady pattern, filling the studio with its first pulse of energy.
When the cue came, Sayo lifted her pick and pressed her fingers against the strings. She struck the chord with force, yet her timing faltered, the sound breaking unevenly against the beat. The miss caused the rhythm to falter. Ako’s drumming weakened, her sticks slowing, until the notes faded into a hesitant silence.
“Sorry, again.”
Sayo murmured, lowering her gaze for a moment. Hina sat on the chair, her hands folded on her knees, her eyes fixed on her sister with quiet patience.
Ako raised her drumsticks once more and struck the cymbal, letting the sharp crash fill the room. She pressed forward with the rhythm, her drumming steady, determined to carry the practice. Sayo lifted her guitar, struck the power chord, and faltered again, her timing slipping against the beat. The uneven sound disrupted the rhythm, and Ako’s drumming weakened until it faded away.
“Again.”
Ako hesitated, her fingers tightening around her sticks. Before she could strike the cymbal again…
“Enough.”
The command was sharp, leaving no room for argument. Yukina turned toward Sayo, her expression unflinching. “Hikawa-san, go home and rest.”
Sayo stood still, her hand lingering on the neck of her guitar. She did not answer immediately, her silence speaking more clearly than words. At last, she gave a short nod.
“Uhm.”
Sayo walked to her case and carefully placed the guitar inside. Closing it with a quiet zip, she lifted the case onto her shoulder, then picked up her bag and headed for the door. Hina rose from her chair and followed, keeping close at her sister’s side.
As the door shut, the room grew quiet. Rinko lowered her eyes to her lap, her thumbs twisting together. Ako set her sticks down with a faint sigh, the weight of concern on her face. Lisa folded her arms, her brows drawn together in unease. Yukina remained standing, her gaze still fixed on the door long after Sayo had gone.
The evening air carried a faint chill as Sayo and Hina made their way along the familiar road home. The streetlights had begun to glow, spreading soft circles of light over the pavement. Hina walked at her sister’s side, her steps light, her tone cheerful as she hummed a small tune. She made no reference to the earlier scene at the studio, as though nothing unusual had taken place.
Sayo kept her eyes ahead, her case resting firmly on her shoulder, her silence unbroken. Her mind seemed fixed on the steady rhythm of her steps, her expression calm but distant.
After a while, Hina tilted her head toward her sister. “Hey, Onee-chan, why are you so quiet today?”
Sayo slowed to a stop. Hina had climbed onto the low brick railing that lined the edge of the walkway, balancing easily as she looked down at her sister with a grin.
“Hehe, you’re really quiet today. Is something wrong?” she asked, her voice playful but her eyes searching.
Sayo’s lips parted briefly before she gave a short reply. “Nothing.”
Hina’s grin softened into a smile, her expression warm. “Is that so? I only thought you seemed quieter than usual.” She shifted her footing on the railing and continued walking atop it, keeping her balance with effortless ease, while her sister resumed her steady pace below.
Sayo resumed her steps, believing the matter had ended, her silence restored as the rhythm of their walk carried them forward.
“Onee-chan.”
“What?”
Hina tilted her head, her expression unusually thoughtful. “Do you hate me, Onee-chan?”
The words struck Sayo with unexpected weight. Her eyes widened for a moment before she bit her lower lip, steadying herself. “Why are you asking that?”
“Because I thought you hated me for something,” Hina answered plainly, her voice light but touched with a faint seriousness. “You kept quiet like that, so I wondered.”
Sayo pressed her lips together once more and gave a small shake of her head.
Hina’s expression softened into relief. “So you don’t hate me? That’s great.”
She let out a breath, the tension slipping away from her face, before leaping lightly down from the railing. Her shoes touched the pavement with a soft sound, and she resumed her place behind her sister.
They walked a short distance in silence before Hina spoke again, her voice bright but insistent.
“Onee-chan.”
“What now?”
“If you don't hate me...then that means you love me, right?”
The question struck Sayo without warning. Her breath caught, and her gaze fell to the ground at her feet. Her lips trembled faintly, the weight of memory pulling her still. In her mind, the scene replayed with a clarity she could never escape. A car speeding down the road. Hina’s sudden dash forward, her hands pressing against Sayo’s shoulder to shove her out of harm’s way. The screech of tires, the violent impact, and the crimson that followed.
Blood.
Too much blood.
“Onee-chan?”
The call reached her through the haze, light and ordinary, pierced her deeper than the memory itself. Her hands quivered slightly at her sides, her voice caught somewhere between answer and silence.
If I said yes, then you wouldn't be here, right, Hina?
The thought circled in her mind with merciless clarity. She felt certain of it. A single word would tear away the fragile presence behind her. If she admitted the truth, if she allowed her feelings to reach the surface, then the moment she turned back, would reveal nothing but the empty pavement.
If I said I love you, then you would disappear, right, Hina?
Her chest ached as the silence stretched. She kept her fists clenched and her body rooted to the spot. The risk was too great. The fear of losing that smile again pressed heavier than any words she could force out. She held on to the only choice she felt she had, to remain silent and keep Hina close for a moment longer.
Hina noticed the silence linger but only laughed lightly, lifting her hand in a small wave.
“Haha, it’s fine, Onee-chan. You don’t have to answer. I was only asking idly.”
Her voice carried no weight of disappointment, only the same brightness she always brought to every moment.
Sayo inclined her head in a brief nod and started forward. Her steps, her gaze fixed on the path ahead. She tilted her head down, hiding her face from view as tears escaped against her will. The cool night air stung her cheeks, though she did not slow her pace.
“Hey, don’t go so fast. Onee-chan, wait for me!” Hina called, her footsteps hurrying to catch up.
Sayo pressed her lips together, unable to reply. The words remained locked inside her chest, heavy and unspoken.
I’m sorry, Hina.
I can’t say it. I really can’t.
Her thoughts folded into silence, a fragile plea echoing within her.
Please, Hina…don’t leave me again. Let me stay.
Even if it’s only a dream.
Sayo pushed open the front door and stepped inside. The quiet of the house wrapped around her as she climbed the stairs, carrying both her school bag and her guitar case. She placed them neatly in her room, setting the guitar carefully against the wall before closing the door behind her.
When she returned to the kitchen, her eyes went immediately to the dining table. The plate remained in its place, untouched and cold. Rolled eggs, buttered toast, broccoli, and boiled carrots sat exactly as they had been left. A glass of apple juice stood beside the plate, the surface crowded with tiny ants drawn by the sweetness.
Sayo picked up the plate and glass with steady hands, carried them to the sink, and scraped the contents into the bin. She turned on the tap, rinsed away the remnants, and washed the dishes until they were clean again. The water ran clear, and the quiet hum of the faucet filled the room while she dried her hands on a towel.
Then she moved around the kitchen, gathering the ingredients and setting a pot on the stove. The scent of simmering curry soon filled the room, warm and familiar. She prepared two plates, just as she always did, arranging the portions with quiet care.
When the food was ready, she carried the plates to the table. One she set before her own chair, the other before the seat across from her. The empty chair stood waiting, and for a moment she looked at it before lowering herself onto her seat.
She picked up her spoon and began to eat. The curry was hot, and the taste spread across her tongue, steady and grounding. Every few bites, her eyes lifted toward the opposite side of the table. A faint smile touched her lips, and she spoke in a gentle tone, her words filling the silence around her.
“Don’t be picky, Hina. Eat your carrots.”
Her spoon clinked against the plate as she continued her meal. After a short pause, she nodded softly, her smile deepening.
“Uhm, I know. Tomorrow I’ll make fried potatoes for you.”
The quiet of the house lingered, broken only by her voice and the steady rhythm of her eating.