Girls talk
The next day, I went to see a movie with Takako and the others. It was that super hyped film with the idol guy.
Afterward, we grabbed drinks, and Shion let out this huge sigh.
“Ugh. Why don’t guys like that exist in real life?”
“Like—hot, sweet, and totally obsessed with you?” Takako said.
“Exactly!”
“Yeah, no. That’s why he’s an idol,” Takako shot back.
“So what, some prince on a white horse is gonna show up and be like, ‘Shion, come with me’?”
“Please. As if.”
“I mean… I’d take it, even if it was, like, a total fluke.”
“A fluke? Okay, explain. What does that even look like?”
“Um… well…”
Takako, seriously, you’re not getting anything out of her if you keep pushing like that.
Time to change the subject.
“But seriously—if a prince on a white horse actually showed up, that’d be a whole disaster, right?”
“Like, what—clip-clop, clip-clop—a horse just rolls up? Where, exactly? School? Through the front gate?”
“He’s just gonna jump the red-brick entrance? At that point the entire school is losing it.”
“And then what—kicking up dust, charging straight at the building? He’s just gonna ride down the hallway at full speed? Everyone’s gonna be like, ‘WHAT is happening?!’”
“And then he finds Shion in Class 5 and goes—”
“‘SHION!’”
“Wait, what do you say?”
“‘My prince!’?”
“In the middle of class?! What’s the teacher doing—calculating the horse’s acceleration or something?”
“And this clueless prince just rides straight into the classroom, knocking over desks and books, and kidnaps you!”
“And you’re like—what, ‘Nooo, stop!’? When else do you even get to say that line?”
“And then everyone just panics but still chases after you, right? Like, ‘Wait, come back!’”
“Yeah, like that’s gonna stop him,” Takako snorted. “But hey, we’d finally find out who has a crush on Shion.”
“So where does he even take you?”
“After leaving school, is he just galloping down the main road? You think he’s obeying traffic lights?”
“The whole city would freak out. News helicopters, live coverage—people posting like, ‘He’s here now!’ ‘He just passed this street!’—it’d go viral instantly!”
We all burst out laughing.
“Like, imagine getting dragged off into the mountains and he’s like, ‘You’re safe now.’ I’d be like—from what?” Shion said.
“What if he takes you to the castle keep?” Asuka added.
“Wait, is this prince wearing a kimono?” Takako said.
“Since when did this turn into a period drama?” I said—and we all cracked up again.
After we finally calmed down, Asuka went, “But seriously…”
“Soto, your brother’s kinda close to the whole ‘prince on a white horse’ thing, isn’t he?”
“…Huh?”
“I was thinking the same,” Shion said. “That’s exactly who I pictured just now.”
“Yeah, it totally fits,” Asuka laughed.
“Wait, what—my brother in a kimono?”
“Soto, why are you dragging this back into historical drama?” Takako said.
“No, no—more like a medieval European knight. That suits him,” Asuka insisted.
…For some reason, I pictured my brother in one of those sparkly figure skating costumes.
Honestly… I kinda want to see that.
“But you know,” Asuka went on, “if a prince showed up, he’d probably come for you, not Shion.”
“Wait—so he kidnaps his own sister? And takes her where—home?” Shion said.
“That’s just leaving school early,” Takako shot back.
We all burst out laughing again.
“But seriously, I kinda want to see him actually try it,” Asuka said.
Asuka… you’re dragging this out.
“So what would you even say, Soto? Not ‘Nooo,’ right?”
“I’d probably yell, ‘What are you doing, big bro?!’”
“Oh my god, yeah, you totally would.”
“And then he just… awkwardly leaves?”
“That’s kinda sad—but yeah, he’s weak when it comes to his sister.”
“Soto totally has him wrapped around her finger.”
…Okay, can everyone stop saying whatever they want?
That scenario is never happening.
“Oh—speaking of your brother…”
Shion suddenly clapped her hands and brought up something new.
“Hey, Soto, have you heard about Tomochika from Class 4?”
“Tomochika from Class 4?”
…Who?
“Sorry, I don’t think I know her.”
“You know—the one with long hair, kinda plain, wears glasses? Wasn’t she at your middle school too?”
Oh… that Tomochika? Yeah, we went to the same middle school, but we were never in the same class, so I don’t really know her. What about her?
“She confessed to your brother.”
“WHEN?”
I realized I’d raised my voice a bit and hurried to compose myself.
“On the day finals ended.”
“…And what happened?”
“He turned her down. Just like that.”
“Oh… I see.”
The day finals ended… that was the day of the swim team gathering.
I tried to trace back my memory of that day.
Then Takako jumped in.
“Oh yeah, I heard about that. Something about your brother saying something weird, right?”
“Something weird?”
“What do you mean?”
Takako pulled out her phone, tapped a few times, and held it up.
“Here, this.”
“‘Today is the saddest day I’ve had in years. I’ve liked him since middle school… I finally worked up the courage to tell him. I even studied so hard just to get into the same school as him…’”
“‘But then he asked how old I was, and when I said sixteen, he said “sorry.” I don’t understand. Does that mean sixteen is still a child? Would it have been different if I were seventeen…?’”
I couldn’t help thinking—she really just posted all of that publicly?
“…And this is about my brother?”
“Apparently.”
“That’s… kind of a weird thing to say,” Asuka said. “Any idea what he meant?”
“Any idea…? Hmm… not really.”
Even as I said that, I vaguely thought—I’m not even sixteen yet.
After I got home, I found myself glancing over at my brother again and again, but he seemed completely normal.
He’d changed into casual clothes, put on an apron, and was sitting on the sofa flipping through a magazine.
I sat down next to him and slipped my arms around his shoulders.
“What?”
He looked at me.
I held his gaze for a moment—then let out a small laugh.
“I’ll make dinner.”
“What’s this?”
After finishing the dishes, I noticed an old book with a faded yellow cover. It was fairly thick, the spine worn with age.
Santaro’s Diary?
“Oh, that? I borrowed it from the library.”
I saw the school library sticker on it.
“It looks kind of difficult.”
“Yeah. It came up somewhere, so I got curious and checked it out.”
With that, my brother said, “I’m gonna take a bath,” and left the room.
Left alone, I found myself strangely intrigued and picked up the old book.
The print was incredibly dense. It said it was published in 1983. My eyes stopped on a certain passage.
It said that human beings were once whole—male and female united in a single body—but angered the gods and were split in two. And so, ever since, men and women have wandered the world in search of their other half.
I tried to render the passage itself in a slightly old-fashioned, literary tone:
Consider the fate of two halves, cast apart into the vastness of this universe.
Rare indeed is the one who, radiant in maidenly beauty and the blush upon her cheeks, awaits in happiness the coming of her other self.
Some, obedient to the will of their parents, entrust their bodies to one who is but a stranger to their soul, trembling day by day at the hollow whisper within their hearts, and waiting—half in fear, half in hope—for the faint approaching footsteps of that other half, hidden in the shadows of sin and ruin.
Some, only after the heat of an embrace—deceived by eye and blood—begins to fade into loneliness, come at last to feel a deep longing for their true counterpart.
Some, as a friendship deepens unawares into something more—whether with a friend or a friend’s spouse—shudder at the realization that some strange bond from a former life is at work in the present.
And some, without ever encountering their other half, pass away in vain.
Thump.
It felt like my heart lurched hard in my chest.
To die in vain without ever meeting the one meant for you.
“Your destined one is no longer in this world.”
…What?
I looked up.
Just the ceiling. Nothing unusual.
“Your destined one is no longer in this world.”
I’d heard those words before.
The memory surfaced.
But when?
From whom?
A fortune-teller?
I tried desperately to remember, but nothing came.
“Sotoko, go take a bath.”
My brother came back in, drying his hair with a towel, already in his pajamas.
“Oh—okay.”
Still feeling strangely unsteady, I made my way to the bathroom, got undressed, and sank into the tub.
The one meant for me… who is that?
And what does it mean—no longer in this world?
“Yeah… I just can’t keep up.”
For a moment, I remembered what Zumii had said. She’d pushed herself to the limit just to make it into Ehime High.
“You’re smart, Soto-chan, so you probably never considered anywhere else, right?”
Never considered anywhere else?
When she said that, I thought—half of that might be true. But the other half wasn’t. Still, it felt like too much to explain, so I let it go.
If someone asked whether I chose my high school based on grades, I could answer without hesitation.
That’s not it. I knew Ehime High was the top school around here, one you couldn’t get into without excellent grades. But I’d never really admired it for that.
And yet, in March of my second year of middle school, my path was set: Ehime High. Just like Zumii said, it became the only option I considered.
Why?
Because my brother had gotten in.
Why did I suddenly remember that?
A breath slipped out of me.
An unnameable loneliness settled deep inside, like my core would never quite warm up.
Maybe the person I’m meant to meet is actually closer than I think.
The thought crossed my mind—just for a moment.
No way.
Reason pushed it aside immediately.
Or maybe… I already know who it is.
The thought made me let out a small, self-conscious laugh. Who am I even thinking of?
That night, I couldn’t stop turning the same unanswered questions over in my mind.
Even after getting into bed, I was wide awake. I couldn’t sleep. I got up a few times for no reason, just to go to the bathroom. The date changed. Then it was one-thirty. I remember three, too.
At some point, I looked at the palm of my hand.
A red thread was tied around my little finger.
What…?
I tugged at it. It didn’t feel like it was connected to anything.
But when I followed it with my eyes, it stretched on into the darkness of the room.
I slipped out of bed and traced where it led. It passed beyond the sliding door of the tatami room, continuing out into the night.
Before I knew it, I was walking along a country road.
Cicadas were crying. The sky was blue. Towering summer clouds billowed overhead.
Sweat ran down my skin.
The red thread stretched endlessly ahead.
As I walked, I realized—
this was the invisible red thread.
It felt like I’d made some incredible discovery. And at the same time, I wondered why I hadn’t realized it before.
If I can see the invisible red thread…
then at the end of it—
the person I’m destined to meet must be waiting.
I started running.
My breath quickened.
At the end of this thread, there had to be someone wonderful waiting for me.
Excited, I kept running.
I don’t know how long.
Before I knew it, I was in a graveyard.
The thread still continued.
A crow perched on a dead branch.
Caw.
A chill ran through me.
I lowered my gaze.
The thread led to a single gravestone.
I stood before it.
Carved into the cold stone were the words:
The one you were meant to meet.
What does this mean?
I couldn’t move.
“Your destined one is no longer in this world.”
It felt like someone had said it.
A hollow emptiness surged through me.
When I came to, I was back in bed.
…A dream?
I stared at the still-dark ceiling, waiting for my racing nerves to settle.
“Maybe… there’s no one here either.”
The thought crossed my mind—almost like resignation.
Here either?
What was I even thinking?
The questions only multiplied.
Beside me, my brother slept quietly.
His soft hair, his calm, well-shaped face.
Everyone seems to enjoy talking about him.
I’m always right here beside him.
And yet…
