“Also, it’s not like love is the only thing that’s embarrassing.”

  “That’s true too.”

  I really am dumb, huh?

  “And...don’t say that there’s nothing between us...”

  “?”

  Her voice was so soft, I almost couldn’t hear her.

  “You’re important to Fuuko, so of course you’re important to me too.”

  “I’m sorry. I only said that because I was trying to push you away—I feel the same way.”

  “!”

  She punched me again.

  If you keep punching the same spot, you’re going to break through my armor...

  That reminded me, though.

  “Speaking of Fuyuko, I think she might be misunderstanding something too.”

  “Huh?”

  “She never told me directly, but she was definitely implying that you were into me. Otherwise, I might not have started considering it.”

  “!”

  She punched me again.

  That’s not fair—why am I being punched for Fuyuko’s misunderstanding?

  “I think the whole ‘Operation Buddy Buddy’ thing was an attempt to try and hook us up. You should probably clear things up with her.”

  “I! Told! Her! I! Don’t! Want! A! Boyfriend!”

  Punch. Punch. Punch. Punch. Punch. Punch. Punch. Punch. Punch.

  Are you going for a max combo? What did I do to deserve this?

  Not that it hurt.

  “Don’t get too mad at her—I think she just wanted the both of us to be happy.”

  “I know...that’s how she is...”

  “Yeah...”

  Fuyuko wasn’t lying when she said we were her ‘two favoritest people in the whole wide world.’ She would do anything for both of us—and the both of us would do anything for her.

  It was a real triangular sort of relationship we had going on here. Not like a love triangle. Although, maybe a little like a love triangle. Just not romantic love. Uhh, it was complicated...

  Or maybe, it wasn’t complicated at all.

  10 - Love Letters, Continued

  After returning home, I went straight to my room. I had been interrupted by Yuriko’s call right before opening Mia’s letter so it had been on my mind the entire time. It was probably just a dumb prank, though.

  I carefully peeled the sticker holding the envelope shut. I didn’t want to damage the envelope because this could be worth a lot in an online auction. That’s what I told myself, anyway.

  Inside was a neatly folded piece of paper. I unfolded the paper and Mia’s handwriting graced my eyes.

  Wow.

  A handwritten letter from one of the most popular idols in the country surely contains some kind of magic power—that’s how I felt looking at it. I couldn’t look away. Without even reading it, I had already been captured by its spell. Mia sure knew how to do fan service.

  It read:

  Dear Onii-chan,

  I love you.

  I thought that the instant our hands touched that night.

  I knew that I wanted to be with you forever.

  And that feeling only grew as I listened to your little sister talk about you.

  I know it’s only been a few days, but I want to be with you.

  I want you.

  I know you probably don’t feel the same way, but I am used to that.

  I know that this feeling is true.

  I know I will make you love me.

  I feel bad about taking your little sister’s Onii-chan away from her, but fate is a cruel mistress.

  I love you, Onii-chan.

  Your beloved little sister,

  Mia

  What the fuck did I just read?

  I knew it was just going to be something to mess with me, but this was beyond what I could have imagined. What did she even get out of trolling me like this? She couldn’t see my reaction—was just the thought of how I might react enough for her?

  She needs serious psychological help...

  I shook my head.

  Better not to think about it.

  Then I noticed a smaller piece of paper that had fallen out when I opened up the letter:

  (What do you think of the samples for my upcoming Valentine’s Day stationery set—pretty cute, aren’t they? Make sure to buy some when they come out! This letter is my present for you being such a kind older brother. I hope it’s to your tastes. You can do whatever you want with this letter: frame it, auction it, enshrine it, make a tribute to it. Whatever your heart desires. ♡)

  ...

  ‘Tribute.’

  Why does this girl know about something like that?

  Well, she is a famous idol—if she has ever name searched herself, she’s probably come across it. Receiving so much of that kind of attention from a young age is probably not good for you.

  More importantly—

  Why the hell would I want to do that anyway?!

  This girl was dangerous. I never should have given her my little sister’s phone number.

  You know what they say:

  Never meet your idols. They might turn out to be a deranged pervert.

  I think that’s how the saying goes, anyway.

  11 - Slime Time

  I decided to read Kondou’s story to try and forget about Mia’s letter, which I had neatly returned to the envelope and stored away in my desk drawer. I retrieved the large envelope from my schoolbag and pulled out the contents. Inside was a stack of writing paper covered in Kondou’s handwriting.

  I didn’t expect it to be handwritten. I guess some people still wrote that way. She did say she wrote this in middle school, so maybe this was part of the image she was trying to cultivate back then. It certainly felt more writerly when a story was written on this kind of paper. Either way, the contents were more important.

  I cozied up in my bed and started reading.

  It was interesting.

  But there was a lot of slime.

  It really was interesting.

  And there really was a lot of slime.

  It was honestly interesting.

  However, there was honestly a lot of slime.

  It was a fantasy short story about an alchemist living alone in a cabin deep in the woods. After the death of his wife, he started searching for a way to revive her. However, his experiments kept failing, resulting in piles of barely sentient slime.

  One experiment resulted in a particularly humanoid-shaped slime creature that he kept around instead of disposing of like the other ones. It could move around, but it couldn’t speak or understand language.

  As months went on, filled with more and more failed experiments, he gets more and more desperate. He starts to believe that the experiment that created the slime girl was actually successful and his wife’s soul was in there somewhere.

  Even more time passes, and their relationship becomes more physical—if you know what I mean. The alchemist eventually stops with the experiments and instead spends his time with the slime girl. However, the slime girl’s body starts to deteriorate and lose its form. The story ends with the alchemist waking up one morning to a formless pile of slime in their bed.

  Despite its eccentricities, it was a really moving story about grief. Kondou’s ability to portray such an emotional and gripping story with only a single human character—aside from some brief flashback scenes with his wife—was truly impressive. The gradual decline in the main character’s mental state was masterfully executed. And the more sensual scenes were equally as uncomfortable as they were erotic. She never let you forget that the slime girl was barely sentient, but you couldn’t help but empathize somewhat with the main character as well.

  I could see why she got so frustrated at people calling some scenes ‘pointless fetish shit.’ Certainly, the slime girl fans would be pleased—the story is a lot of this dude making love to a slime girl—but you would have to ignore most of what the story was really about for that to be your only takeaway. If you couldn’t appreciate what those scenes added to the story, then there was no hope for you as a human being.

  I know her intention was to encourage me to share my work with her, but it just intimidated me more. Couldn’t she have chosen something less, you know, good? Or was this what she considered average for her? Not to mention she wrote this in middle school—she had probably become even better since then.

  On that note, I couldn’t believe this had been written by a middle schooler. It was hard to believe a middle schooler would have the perspective to write what felt like such a realistic depiction of trauma and grief at the loss of a loved one. Not that I would really know if it was realistic, because I didn’t have that lived experience either. But it definitely felt genuine. Whether it was true to life or not—it was true to something.

  I wonder if something happened to her, although I probably shouldn’t speculate about that. I shouldn’t try to psychoanalyze her through her work—it can be difficult to tell which parts of a story come from the author’s personal experience and which come purely from their imagination, after all. If you know facts about the author’s life, you can often see them represented in the author’s work, but it would be rude to take any part of the story and assume it’s about the author’s own life. I didn’t want to read too much into it.

  In short: It was a masterpiece.

  I want to write something this good.

  But I don’t know if there’s anything I could write about that would emotionally resonate with people. Do I have any experiences in my life that I could draw on for inspiration?

  Don’t think about it.

  Surely there’s something that I can pick out. Just a little bit.

  Do you want to open Pandora’s box?

  ...

  Yeah, better not to think about it.

  If I’m not doing that, then I just need to imagine something special.

  Think.

  Not about reality—but about fantasy.

  What I ended up writing that night was just a single scene.

  The scene opened on a young-looking girl wearing gothic lolita-style clothing sleeping in the shade of a tree beside a river. She was roused from her slumber by a bat familiar and returned to the cabin where she and her mother lived. However, when she arrived home, she saw a weary adventurer standing over her mother’s corpse.

  What was the adventurer’s deal? I didn’t know.

  Why did he kill the girl’s mom? I didn’t know.

  Why were they living out in the woods? I didn’t know.

  What was going to happen after this? I didn’t know.

  What I did know is that I liked the vibe. Maybe I didn’t need to know anything else.

  12 - Little Sisters

  “Onii-chan, what did Mia’s letter say?”

  I would have preferred to eat my breakfast in peace, but it seemed like I was going to have to endure my little sister’s questioning.

  “Nothing much.”

  “Hmm...”

  She didn’t seem like she was buying it.

  I tried steering the conversation away from the letter.

  “It really wasn’t anything special. She just thanked me for what I did for you—it seems like you two have become good friends already.”

  “We have!”

  “What kind of things do you two talk about?”

  “I talk about Onii-chan, and she talks about her Onii-chan too! ”

  Is she talking about me?

  “Hmm, I didn’t know she had an older brother.”

  “Come on, Onii-chan! I’m sure I’ve mentioned him before. She’s talked about him a few times in interviews.”

  So she has an actual older brother? I feel sorry for him.

  “I’m sorry for having such a poor memory.”

  “It’s fine. If you ever forget something, just tell me and I’ll remind you—my memory is perfect!”

  How am I supposed to tell you about something I’ve forgotten?

  “If I remember, I’ll do that.”

  “The point is, Mia and I share a bond as little sisters—of course we would get along.”

  You’re certainly both obsessed with older brothers. I think there might be some key differences between you two, though.

  Hopefully.

  “Yuuuuuuko!”

  “!”

  Instead of dodging Fuyuko’s charge, Yuriko countered—she grabbed onto one of Fuyuko’s outstretched arms and pulled her into a standing arm lock.

  “Gebwugh?!”

  Fuyuko let out a strange sound in response to the unexpected maneuver.

  I didn’t know Yuriko could do that... Best not to get on her bad side.

  “Fuuko, we need to talk.”

  “What is it?”

  “Apparently you think I’m...in l-love with Akio.”

  She’s dropping the honorific? I guess we are closer after our conversation. I don’t mind.

  “You aren’t?!”

  “NO, I’M NOT!”

  “Owowowowow! I give, I give!”

  Yuriko released Fuyuko, who began massaging her arm.

  “I do l-like him—just not like that!”

  I’m still here.

  “But, Onii-chan is Onii-chan! How could you not love him?”

  I decided to chime in.

  “I think that your feelings as a little sister might be getting in the way of understanding how Yuriko feels.”

  “Hmm...I can’t imagine not being Onii-chan’s little sister. I don’t really get it...”

  I guess everyone has unshakable constants in their mind. I also can’t imagine Fuyuko not being my little sister.

  “That’s how it is, Fuuko. So stop trying to hook us up!”

  “You two would have been so cute together too...and you would have become my little-sister-in-law. I thought it was the perfect plan, but if that’s how it is, then ‘Operation Buddy Buddy’ will have to end here.”

  ““Thank you.””

  Yuriko and I both breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Hmm, if Yuriko is not going to be Onii-chan’s bride, then I need to find someone else...”

  “You don’t need to find me a bride!”

  “I guess I need to start working my magic on that Aki-chi girl...”

  Who? Is she trying to set me up with another one of her friends?

  More importantly—

  “You shouldn’t be ‘working your magic’ on anyone. Stay out of my love life!”

  You have a love life?

  I don’t want her to smother any of my chances before they even arrive!

  “It’s okay, Onii-chan. I know what I’m doing.”

  “If they have you hounding them, you’ll scare any girl away.”

  “You underestimate me. I know not to come on too strong. Remember how I acted when you brought that girl home? I was nice and polite.”

  That’s true...had she been holding herself back for my sake?

  My little sister was too nice.

  “So, that’s how my morning went.”

  Haruhi smiled.

  “Your little sister seems to really care about you.”

  “Probably too much.”

  “I’m an only child, so I kind of envy you two. I’ve always wanted siblings.”

  She probably would have gotten along really well with her siblings.

  “She might be a little special. Sibling relationships aren’t always so nice.”

  “I’d love to meet her myself someday. May I come over to your house this weekend?”

  Huh? She heard about how my little sister is trying to find me a bride and now she wants to come over? No, she doesn’t think of me like that. Stop it. She just wants to meet my sister because she doesn’t have any siblings.

  “Sure, I think we’re both free tomorrow. I can send you our address and we can arrange the specifics later.”

  “That works for me.”

  “...”

  “...”

  “...”

  “Umm...I want to hold your hand. May I?”

  “Go ahead.”

  She gently interlaced her fingers with mine.

  Will I ever get used to this?

  13 - Rumors

  For some reason, Shuusuke was giving me a strange look at lunchtime.

  I don’t remember doing anything to make him upset. In fact, I had almost forgotten he even existed.

  “Is it that time of the month?”

  “Hold it with the jokes, I actually want to have a serious conversation.”

  If you don’t follow up, then I just made a misogynistic joke on my own, dumbass. Don’t leave me hanging.

  We were now at the top of the stairwell, leaning against the wall next to the door that led onto the roof.

  He put his hand on my shoulder and smiled.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about your little thing with Okino-senpai, dude? I’m not going to be upset if you lose your virginity before me.”

  Okino-senpai? The only upperclassman I know is Haruhi—was that her family name? I had called her Haruhi from the moment she introduced herself, so I probably forgot. My memory is scarily bad sometimes—maybe I need to see a doctor.

  My poor memory aside, someone from our school who knew either of us was bound to notice eventually.

  “What ‘thing’?”

  He sighed.

  “Yeah, you don’t pay attention to gossip so you wouldn’t know—people are talking about you two, dude. Rumor has it that she’s been hanging all over you lately and even shouted ‘I love you!’ in the middle of a crowded train.”

  “Well, those things are factually true, but it’s not what it seems like—we’re just friends.”

  “No way, she really said that?”

  “Yeah.”

  It means something different to her though.

  “Are you sure you’re not misunderstanding something? You might be an idiot, but you know what that word means, right? I can understand why you would be hesitant after what happened back in middle school—but if she’s shouting on the train that she loves you, I think you’re in, dude.”