My Little Sister Can Read Kanji: Volume 1

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My Little Sister Can Read Kanji: Volume 1 Page 5

by Takashi Kajii

I used to sleep in the same room with Mom and Kuroha, but when I’d entered elementary school, I had gotten my own room. Back then, it was Kuroha who had seemed sad about it.

  “I was just thinking that it wouldn’t be so bad to sleep together with Miru once in a while, is all.”

  “Not even once in a while. What would you do if something happened?”

  Something?

  “Nii, Nee, please don’t fight. Here, have some marshmallows,” said Miru, calming us down. She opened up her bag and was searching around, probably to take out some marshmallows.

  Kuroha, you totally overreacted. Eat some marshmallows and calm down.

  After that, we went to look around the other floors of the exhibit. I thought it was very fulfilling to experience the culture of the Heisei era. After viewing many displays, we finally approached the last floor.

  “Ooh...” I said, unable to stop myself.

  In the middle of the floor, a gigantic portrait of a young woman was on display.

  She had dazzling blonde hair and clear blue eyes. Unbelievably for an Oriental person, her white skin almost had tinges of pink. The black katyusha headband she was wearing on her head lent her an air of an antique Russian doll.

  Homyura Taitei.

  She was the heroine of the classic book I Want to Have Onii-chan’s Baby. She was probably the most famous 2D character in Japan.

  This portrait was more realistic than the book’s illustrations. I guess you could call it Homyura – Real Version.

  “She’s so pretty!” said Miru, drawn to the portrait.

  “Yeah, she really is pretty,” Kuroha agreed.

  I took a good look. I had not told anyone, but my first love had been, in fact, Homyura. When I had read Oniaka in elementary school, my young heart had yearned for Homyura. That was when I had awakened to the joys of the opposite sex.

  Now, though, I wouldn’t go so far as to describe my feelings that way. Homyura was a 2D character. Unfortunately, nothing would come of falling in love with her. But that did not change the fact that she was a very special heroine to me. I was overjoyed to be able to view such a huge portrait of my special Homyura.

  But...

  “Isn’t there something odd about this?” I craned my neck. “Oniaka was written quite a while after the Heisei era. It’s a stretch to display a portrait of her in a Heisei exhibition.”

  “There’s an explanation written here,” said Kuroha. “Let’s see...”

  “Yes, indeed,” said a sober voice from behind us. I turned around, and there was Odaira-sensei.

  “Sensei! Are you sure it’s safe?” I asked.

  “Yes, I gave them the slip,” he said proudly. “For my young friends, overcoming a few security guards is a small order.”

  Kuroha, with a defensive look on her face, pulled Miru away from him.

  “Ah, yes... You wanted to know why this picture was here. It is said that Homyura was a real person.”

  I was surprised. I had thought that Oniaka was entirely a work of fiction.

  “Oh, perhaps that is an inaccurate way of putting it. Homyura was not a real person, but rather there is a real person who served as her model. Lately, the theory that she was based on a person from the Heisei era has come into favor.”

  This was all new to me. I had known that Homyura was based off someone. But I had always assumed the model had been a girl from the year 2060, when Oniaka had been published. I had never heard before that her model had been from the Heisei era.

  “That is why I believe there is this large portrait of Homyura here in this Heisei exhibit,” finished Odaira-sensei, shrugging his shoulders.

  After finishing with the museum, we headed back to Odaira-sensei’s house. We ate dinner, and afterward retired to the living room, sitting around the low table. Odaira-sensei brewed coffee and tea for us. It was an after-dinner teatime.

  To go with the tea and snacks, Odaira-sensei brought out a plate of marshmallows he said he had received as a gift from an acquaintance. The marshmallows were squishy and chewy, and melted into sweetness in our mouths.

  “These are delicious!” proclaimed Miru.

  “You like marshmallows, right, Miru-chan?” he cooed. “Feel free to take them home with you. They’re special marshmallows that a friend of mine made.”

  “Thanks, geezer!”

  Odaira-sensei handed over a gift bag to Miru, and she placed it carefully in her pack. “Miru-chan, who has skin white like marshmallows, is eating marshmallows. It’s like cannibalism! So exciting!” he said.

  “Your decrepitude knows no bounds,” sneered Kuroha, which almost made me break out in a cold sweat, but Odaira-sensei was so absorbed with Miru that he didn’t seem to notice one bit.

  We ate our fill of marshmallows and relaxed. I looked through the window, and it was already completely dark outside. The clock showed that it was already 8 P.M. I was beginning to think that it was time to take our leave when Odaira-sensei asked me a new question.

  “What did you think of the Heisei exhibit, Gin-kun?”

  “It really left an impression on me,” I said. “I never knew that the people of that era were so religious.”

  “Oh? Religious, you say?”

  “Yes. Seeing all those holy figures and pictures in the recreation of that room was quite an eye-opener.”

  “Ha ha ha!” laughed Odaira-sensei. “Holy, you call them? That’s an excellent way of putting it. They are very much a matter of devotion, that’s true,” he said, nodding in agreement.

  See, I knew I was right about that!

  “And what about you, Kuroha-kun?” he asked.

  “Well, I had heard that in the Heisei era, there weren’t any wars, and the people’s minds were at ease. If I had been born into that era, maybe I would be a kinder person.”

  “Oh, ho...” he said.

  “I wish I could see it with my own eyes,” she continued.

  “Yeah, that would be nice,” I agreed.

  “You want to go see it too, Miru?” asked Kuroha.

  “...fweh?” Perhaps Miru was tired, as she was lying with one cheek on the table, and looked like she was dozing off. It didn’t seem like she had heard Kuroha.

  I’d better follow up for her.

  “Your sister said that she wanted to go to the Heisei era and see it herself, after having seen the exhibition,” I explained.

  Miru blinked a bunch. “Yeah... I wanna go and draw a lot...”

  “Yes, yes.” Odaira-sensei narrowed his eyes behind his glasses. When he looked at Miru, his eyes could not have been more amorous. “Yes, I would love to have fun in that era.”

  The Heisei era? It was said to be the era in which moe culture, the original influence of the Orthodox literary style, had begun to spread. I bet the cities were overflowing with moe, and the people were all enjoying the moe lifestyle...My mind was filled with thoughts of that ancient era. Yes, today was a good day. I have a feeling I’ve charged up enough energy to write a new novel! Sensei, thank you so much!

  Miru looked like she was about to doze off, so I decided it was time for us to go.

  “Kuroha, we can’t stay too late...” I began.

  Then it started.

  Something strange.

  The first person it happened to was Miru. Pipi, pipi – A sound like an alarm started coming from Miru’s body. At first I thought her cellphone was broken, but that wasn’t it.

  Miru’s body itself began to blink in and out. She looked at her own body in disbelief. The rest of us were also stunned into silence.

  Next, Kuroha and Odaira-sensei also began to blink. The sound of an alarm made a chorus from their three bodies.

  Finally, it was my turn.

  “What’s going on?” asked Kuroha, frightened.

  Our flashing got faster and faster, and the pipipipipipipi sound of the alarm grew more and more rapid until it merged into one long tone.

  What... what is this? What’s happening to us?!

  “Nii!” cried Miru, as i
f she had been driven into a corner.

  There was a whooshing sound.

  Before I had the chance to think, it was already too late. Miru had vanished.

  “Miru!” cried Kuroha.

  I could do nothing but stare soundlessly.

  With another whooshing sound like a cutting wind, Odaira-sensei disappeared.

  “Onii-chan...” Kuroha looked at me almost in tears.

  “Kuroha!” I cried, reaching out to grab her hand, and she reached out in return. Just as our hands were about to touch, Kuroha disappeared.

  I was left alone.

  Where could the three of them have disappeared to? This isn’t some game of hide-and-seek, right?! Then I felt a sensation like someone pulling the hair on the back of my head. I lost consciousness and blacked out.

  “...n.”

  “...chan.”

  “...Onii-chan!” Someone was shaking my body.

  “Wake up, Onii-chan!” The voice belonged to Kuroha.

  I groaned, opened my eyes, and sat up.

  Kuroha was right in front of me. She was so close, I thought our lips might touch each other by accident.

  “Kyah!” yelped Kuroha in a girly way. “B-Be careful!”

  “Oh, sorry,” I mumbled.

  “Nii!” Someone came running to give me a hug. She rammed into me at full speed. It was Miru.

  “You’re awake, Nii!” Miru was burying her face in my stomach. Perhaps it was because of my unease, but I hugged her tight and didn’t want to let go.

  “I’m sorry for worrying you.” I gently let her go and patted the top of her head.

  “You wouldn’t wake up there for a while,” said Kuroha. “Do you think you’re all in one piece?”

  I slowly moved away from Miru and checked myself for any injuries. I stretched my legs, flexed my shoulders, and rolled my neck around a bit. “Everything checks out okay. How about you two?”

  It seemed like Kuroha and Miru were also fine. Knowing we were physically okay was a small relief, even in such a tough situation.

  “Wait, what happened to...” There was someone missing. “Where is Sensei?”

  “He’s not here,” Kuroha said.

  “Maybe he woke up before we did and headed off somewhere.”

  Kuroha shook her head in response without saying anything.

  Has he gone missing? Sensei, please be safe!

  I was worried about him, but the first order of business was to figure out where we were. I looked around.

  The first thing I noticed was the change in the time of day. Even though the sun had completely gone down after we had finished dinner, it was now high in the sky as if it were noon. We were also in a completely different place. I thought I smelled grass, and indeed we were laying on a wide lawn. This was definitely not Odaira-sensei’s house.

  Maybe some kind of park?

  Some tens of meters away from us was an old-looking Western-style house. Other than that, I couldn’t see any other buildings, just a line of trees surrounding the lawn.

  “Where are we?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” replied Kuroha.

  “Why don’t we check our cellphones to find out?” The GPS should have been able to tell us our location. I took out my cellphone from my pocket, but the display was completely blank. I thought that it might have gotten turned off, so I pressed the power button.

  Hmm? This is odd. It’s not turning on.

  “I guess yours doesn’t work either, Onii-chan,” Kuroha said.

  “Which means...” I gathered that Kuroha’s phone was equally useless. “What about Miru’s cellphone?”

  “Nope.”

  Well, now we’re in a pickle. We had no idea where we were, and no way of contacting Odaira-sensei. I was at a loss for what to do.

  Isn’t there something...? Ah, I know!

  “Let’s ask someone at that house if we can borrow their phone!” I pointed at the house I had seen.

  It had a triangular roof, and there was a weather vane on the top. It looked like an ancient Western-style building. Although it doesn’t seem to be a normal house, it should at least have a phone.

  “That sounds like a better plan than just flailing about,” agreed Kuroha.

  We headed together to the entrance of the Western house. It was surrounded by a wooden fence, and there was a gate in front. We passed through the gate onto the grounds of the house.

  This is a big mansion... It seemed even larger closer up. The door at the entrance opened with a creak, and a person came out from inside. A young woman.

  Her blonde hair sparkled in the bright sunlight. She was wearing a black katyusha on her head. It looked like a blossom of darkness that contrasted wonderfully with her bright hair. When I looked down at her figure, she was wearing a white apron and holding a broom.

  Maybe she’s a house servant?

  She looked at me.

  –My heart stopped.

  My heart didn’t actually stop, of course. That was a figure of speech. But it is true that it might have really stopped for a few seconds. That was just how surprised I was.

  Why? Because this girl resembled her just so perfectly.

  “Homyura!” exclaimed Miru from behind me.

  Homyura Taitei. The girl in the painting we had seen just hours earlier was standing before us.

  The Homyura clone looked at us intently and smiled. It was such a kind smile, I was taken aback.

  “Hello!” Her intonation was slightly unusual, but I could understand exactly what Ms. Clone said.

  “Uh... hello,” I managed.

  “Oh, my...” Her gaze went past me, she was looking at Miru’s hat. “What a cute hat! She must be Miru-chan, right?”

  Color me shocked! How could she know Miru’s name?

  “Yes, that’s right...” I said.

  “Then you must be her friends,” she beamed.

  I had no idea what she was talking about. Whose friends were we supposed to be, exactly?

  Still bewildered, we all paid our thanks to Ms. Clone.

  “Welcome, guests!” she said cheerfully.

  We raised our heads up slowly, and were met with a shocking revelation.

  “Welcome to the 21st Century!”

  ☆

  My great and most honorable ancestor wrote under the name Torahiko Touji. From the Meiji era through the Taisho era, he left us many classic works of literature.

  His work was well respected up until the Heisei era, but afterward, with the sudden rise of the Orthodox style of literature (oh, how I loathe the term with all of my being), he disappeared from the memories of readers. Records still barely exist of him, but his works are now considered mothballed old relics of no value.

  I can barely contain my furor over the hideous way the world treats my great ancestor’s writings, but some of the responsibility for failing to protect his good name lies with my own family.

  In our house, we have kept preserved the diary of Torahiko’s grandson, Takeono. In this diary is clearly documented our family distancing itself from literature during the Showa to the Heisei era.

  “April 5th, Showa 58 (Wednesday) Rainy

  It seems as if my son has been creating an independent magazine: a doujinshi. In my student years, I also was in charge of the literary magazine, so I thought I would be proud of my son for finally awakening to literature, but something is not right here.

  When I asked him to show me what he was writing, he pulled out a thin book. It was indie, that is true, but the content was a fanwork based off an animated character. With an illustration of a pink-haired girl on the cover, he told me her name was Momo or Ume or something like that.

  It seems like he will be selling this book at an exhibition center at the Harumi area in Tokyo. There will be some sort of doujinshi sales event there.

  It is a world that I do not understand, and it confuses me completely.

  Although it pains me to say it, it does not look like my son will become a literary person like G
randfather Torahiko.”

  “March 5th, Heisei 21 (Saturday) Sunny

  My grandson has been awarded the Newcomer’s Prize, and has become an author. It is a thing to celebrate, but when I asked him whether his work tended toward the Akutagawa Prize or the Naoki Prize, he replied coarsely, “It’s not like those at all.” Upon further prying, it seems like he is writing something called “light novels” which are targeted toward younger readers.

  My grandson wanted to become a manga artist, but he was not talented at drawing, and settled for being an author, it seems. Even after becoming an author, he still hasn’t gotten over it, and I think he shows off his art on some site called pixy or pixer or something.

  I was angry, yes, for the low amount of mind he paid the literary field, but seeing him enjoying himself was enough, in the end, to satisfy me. Nothing is more important than the happiness of your family, after all.”

  Ahh... The resignation had already begun to sink in.

  Even with such a great ancestor as Torahiko Touji, his sons were swept away by the changing times.

  What a pity. How he must be full of regrets and gnashing his teeth.

  Rather than fight it, our family welcomed the long winter. Not a one awakened to proper literature, and we all became cut off from our ancestor’s work.

  But then, I was born. I shall not cater myself to this era. I will fight with all my being to bring back the literature of my ancestors. Witness me from the afterlife, so that you may rest in peace.

  Chapter 3 - Expectations and Reality

  “Welcome to the 21st century!”

  Those were the words Ms. Clone had spoken.

  I thought about what they might mean. Well, they mean what they mean, right?

  “What in the world is this?” The question was asked not by me, but by my sister Kuroha. She moved in front of me, almost pushing me aside.

  “This? Let me introduce myself. My name is Yuzu Mirokuin,” said Ms. Clone, seeming to misunderstand Kuroha’s question. So Yuzu is her first name, and Mirokuin is her family name? I’ll be polite, but friendly, and call her Yuzu-san.

  “That’s not what I was asking. You just said, ‘Welcome to the 21st century!’ but the year is 2202. It should be the 23rd century,” replied Kuroha.

 

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