by Tsutomu Sato
But then, the Weeds, who weren’t anticipated to bloom, were placed in classes E through H—separate from the “greenhouses” the Blooms would be placed in, since they were expected to blossom into huge flowers.
They naturally split up with the two female students who ended up in another class. They seemed to be going toward their respective homerooms. The homerooms were different just because they were split between A through D and E through H, but that didn’t seem to put a damper on their excitement at all.
It wasn’t as though every Course 2 student was hung up on it. There were plenty of kids who thought, Wow, I managed to get into an elite school that was a little out of my reach, too. The school was rated as one of the top in the country even for subjects other than magic, after all. The two of them had probably gone looking for friends in their classes that they’d be spending the next year with.
“What do you want to do? Should we drop by our classroom, too?” asked Erika, looking up at Tatsuya’s face. Mizuki didn’t ask, probably because she was also looking up at him.
Aside from schools that preserved old traditions, high schools didn’t use homeroom teachers these days. They didn’t need people to call students to the office—and the luxury of wasting personnel expenses on something like that was rare. Everything was handled by communications among terminals connected to the school network.
The norm for decades now had been to give each student a personal terminal to use in school. These information terminals were even used for personal teaching, as long as it wasn’t for skill coaching or other large-scale activities. If a student needed further care, schools always had multiple professionally qualified counselors of many different fields of expertise on staff.
The reason, then, that homeroom itself was necessary was because it was convenient for practice and experiments. They needed to preserve a certain number of people so practice and labs would end both on time and without any extra time. Though leftovers still spring up every day… Plus, having your own assigned terminal was also highly convenient for many reasons.
It didn’t matter what the scenery was like—spending a long time in a single room meant that you would naturally deepen exchanges with others. The removal of homeroom teachers actually tended to strengthen relationships between students.
In any case, going to homeroom would be the quickest option if they wanted to make new friends. Tatsuya, however, shook his head at Erika’s request.
“Sorry. I’m supposed to meet up with my younger sister.”
He knew there would be no classes or announcements today. He had promised Miyuki to return home with her right after he’d finished up with her formalities.
“Wow… She must be pretty cute if she’s your sister, Shiba, huh?” murmured Erika. It sounded like both an impression and a question, and left him without quite knowing how to answer her. What does she mean by “if she’s your sister”? he thought. He felt like her conclusion wasn’t following from her logic.
Fortunately, there was no reason to force himself to answer, because Mizuki asked him a more fundamental question. “A younger sister… Could she be Miyuki Shiba, the new student representative?”
This time, he didn’t need to worry. He answered the question with a single nod to strongly imply affirmation.
“Wait, really? Are you twins?” asked Erika.
It was understandable question, and one Tatsuya was pretty used to. “We get asked that a lot, but we’re not twins. I was born in April, and she was born in March. If I had been born a month earlier, or my sister a month later, we wouldn’t have been in the same grade.”
“Huh… That sounds kind of complicated.”
It was certainly complicated being in the same grade as his younger sister—an honors student—but Erika didn’t mean any harm by the question.
Tatsuya smiled and passed over it. “But I’m surprised you figured it out. Shiba isn’t that unusual a last name.”
The two girls smiled a little at his response. There was a notable difference in shade between them, though.
“No, no, it’s pretty unusual!” Erika smiled painfully.
“Your faces look alike…” Mizuki, though, smiled in a reserved, insecure way for some reason.
“Do they?” Tatsuya couldn’t help but be a little confused. It probably indicated that Mizuki’s words came from the same foundation as Erika’s, but he just didn’t feel it was true.
Or rather, he couldn’t believe it.
Even if he removed himself from the favorable light he cast on her as a family member, Miyuki was an uncommonly pretty girl. Even without her exorbitant abilities, she couldn’t help but attract attention wherever she went. She was a natural-born idol—no, a star.
When he looked at her, he was always reminded of the proverb that God never grants gifts to a person—and how much of a lie that was.
Tatsuya’s own measurement of self-worth was, upon reflection, a bit above average, or maybe in the upper-middle zone.
During junior high, he would see his sister getting love letters practically on a daily basis (though Tatsuya saw them more as fan mail than anything else). He’d never received anything like that even once, though. They should share the same genetic code—well, some of it, anyway—but that didn’t stop Tatsuya from doubting their blood relationship time and time again.
However, Erika nodded readily at Tatsuya’s response—or rather what Mizuki had said. “Now that you mention it… Yeah, they do look alike! I mean, Shiba is a cutie himself. And it’s not just how his face looks. It’s like, the kind of air around him, or something.”
“A cutie? How many decades ago did that term go out of style…? Besides, if you disregard our faces, we don’t look anything alike, do we?”
What Erika had said was probably unintuitive and a little difficult to understand, but apparently she wasn’t trying to say their faces were similar. That was how Tatsuya translated it, at least, which was why he couldn’t help but make that retort.
“That’s not it. It’s like… How do I put it…?” Erika didn’t seem to be able to express it well herself. She might have stood there groaning for a while had Mizuki not come to her rescue.
“It’s your aura. It makes your expressions seem really dignified. It’s what I would expect from siblings.”
“That’s it! Your auras!” Erika’s head bobbed up and down vigorously and she nearly slapped her knees.
Now it was Tatsuya’s turn to give her a dry smile. “Chiba… You’re actually kind of a clown, you know?”
“A clown?” In typical fashion, he only half-listened to her cry of “How rude!” From her tone of voice, Erika didn’t sound like she was very bothered by it, either.
“Still, Shibata, you’re good at reading the auras in people’s expressions… You really have good eyes.” Those words, on the other hand, were spoken meaningfully.
“Huh? But Mizuki wears glasses,” wondered Erika aloud.
“That’s not what I mean. Besides, her lenses aren’t curved at all, are they?”
Confused, Erika peered into Mizuki’s glasses. On the other side of her lenses, her eyes had frozen in surprise.
Was she surprised someone had noticed it, or disappointed that she hadn’t hidden it? Whichever the case was, Tatsuya didn’t think it was as big a deal as she was making it out to be.
He didn’t have a chance to investigate why she was making that kind of face, though. He was out of time, and that was probably the only reason the conversation ended on a good note.
“I’m sorry I made you wait, Tatsuya.”
As Tatsuya and the others conversed in a corner near the auditorium exit, he heard the voice of the one he was waiting for from behind them.
Miyuki had broken out of the crowd surrounding her.
That was quick was his first thought, but he corrected himself—considering her temperament, it was probably the right time.
She was far from nonsocial, but her fussiness toward flattery and niceties couldn’t
be denied. It wasn’t quite childlike, but she’d certainly never been spared any praise when she was young. In return, though, she had plenty of the superficial kind, mixed with envy and gossip.
Thinking from that perspective, she would have naturally gotten quite used to being fawned over. He would say that she’d actually endured quite a bit today.
He’d planned to turn around and remark, “That was fast,” and while he managed to speak the words, his intonation ended up being rather interrogative, because there was someone with Miyuki he hadn’t expected to see.
“Hello, Shiba. We meet again.”
Tatsuya silently bowed to her amiable smile; her words seemed to be trying to patch things up with him. Despite his response lacking friendliness, the student council president, Mayumi Saegusa, didn’t break her smile. Perhaps that was her poker face, or maybe she was just comfortable in her own territory. Tatsuya had just met her, so he couldn’t tell one way or the other.
But his sister seemed to be more interested in the girls cozying up next to him (?) than in his odd reply to the student council president.
“Tatsuya, who are these people…?”
Before explaining why she wasn’t by herself, she asked Tatsuya to explain why he wasn’t by himself. It felt a little abrupt, but there was no reason to hide it. He answered without skipping a beat. “This is Mizuki Shibata. And this is Erika Chiba. We’re in the same class.”
“I see… On a date with your classmates already?” she asked, making a cute face and tilting her head. Her expression said And I certainly don’t mean anything by that. A ladylike smile was on her lips—but her eyes weren’t smiling.
Oh my, thought Tatsuya. She’d been under concentrated fire from the grating flattery ever since the ceremony ended, and it seemed like she’d accumulated quite a bit of stress.
“Of course not, Miyuki… I was just talking to them while waiting for you. Saying that was rude to them, you know.”
Personally, he thought her sulking face was cute, too, but not naming yourself when introduced to someone wouldn’t look good in front of the upperclassmen and other new students. Tatsuya let a twinge of criticism creep into his eyes. Miyuki looked surprised, then gave a much more graceful smile.
“Pleased to meet you, Miss Shibata, Miss Chiba. I am Miyuki Shiba. I am a new student here as well, so I look forward to getting along with you as my brother is.”
“I’m Mizuki Shibata. Pleased to meet you as well.”
“Nice to meetcha. You can just call me Erika. Would it be okay for me to just call you Miyuki, too?”
“Yes, go right ahead. Using my last name would make it hard to distinguish between my brother and me, after all.”
The three girls exchanged introductions again.
Miyuki and Mizuki’s introduction was appropriate for a first meeting. But Erika, on the other hand, was already acting very friendly to her (to put it nicely). However, Tatsuya was the one who found himself hesitating at her friendly language. Miyuki instead nodded, not showing a hint of dislike for her familiar tone and slightly more affable attitude.
“Ah-ha, Miyuki, you actually seem easy to get along with, despite how you look!”
“And you have a very open personality, just as you look. Nice to meet you, Erika.”
Miyuki, who was sick of all the flattery and niceties, probably appreciated Erika’s candid attitude more than she might have otherwise. There did seem to be something more than that being communicated between them, though. They exchanged frank, unreserved smiles.
Tatsuya couldn’t help but feel left out, but they couldn’t just keep standing here. They were with the student council president’s party that came with his sister, so they wouldn’t be seen as nuisances, but doing this for much longer would make them into a traffic obstruction.
“Miyuki. Did you finish up with the student council? If you’re not, then maybe we shouldn’t be standing around.”
“It’s all right.” Someone else answered his question and proposition. “We were just meeting each other today. Miyuki—may I also call you that?” addressed Mayumi.
“Oh, yes.” Miyuki changed her candid smile into a docile expression and nodded.
“Then, Miyuki, we will discuss further details another day.”
Mayumi gave a slight bow with a smile and went to leave the auditorium. But the male student who had been waiting right behind her called out to her. On his chest, just as expected, was the eight-petaled emblem.
“But, President, our plans—”
“We did not promise anything beforehand. If she has her own plans, we should prioritize that, right?”
Controlling the male student, who showed signs of not backing down, with her eyes, Mayumi turned a meaningful smile on Miyuki and Tatsuya.
“Then I will take my leave, Miyuki. Shiba—another time, I hope.”
Mayumi bowed a second time and left. The male student following her turned around and glared at Tatsuya with an expression that was none too friendly.
“…Should we go home, then?”
Right off the bat, he seemed to have fallen out of an upperclassman’s grace, and one who was a student council member at that. But it had been almost inevitable. His life had never gone so smoothly and easily that he’d need to worry over something like this. That life hadn’t lasted even sixteen years yet, but he had plenty of experience with such negativity.
“I’m sorry, Tatsuya. I gave them a bad impression of you—” Miyuki started, her expression clouded.
“It’s nothing for you to apologize about,” Tatsuya interrupted her sentence, shaking his head and putting his hand on her head. He stroked her hair as though his hand were a comb, and her sullen expression changed to one tinged with intoxication. Those watching them couldn’t deny that they were acting questionably for siblings, but neither Mizuki nor Erika said anything about it, perhaps out of restraint since this was their first meeting.
“Since we’re here, why not go have some tea?”
“That sounds great! I’m in! Apparently there’s a delicious cake shop around here.”
Instead, the girls tossed them an invitation to a tea party.
Tatsuya didn’t intend to ask if their families would get worried—even mentioning something like that would be needless consideration. And in this regard, Tatsuya and Miyuki were the same.
Above all, Tatsuya had something he wanted to ask. It was something that was honestly no big deal, but it had been bothering him to the point where he couldn’t let it go.
“You didn’t check where the entrance ceremony was going to be, but you know where a cake shop is?”
Maybe the question was a little mean, but Erika nodded confidently, without a shred of hesitation. “Of course! Isn’t it important?”
“Of course…” he repeated. His words came out as a groan, but he didn’t care who got mad at him for it.
But it seemed like he was the only one shocked by Erika’s “outburst.”
“Tatsuya, what shall we do?” Miyuki wasn’t acting as though she cared at all about Erika’s senseless prioritization of the location of a sweets shop over that of the ceremony venue. —Of course, Miyuki didn’t know how that came about in the first place.
However, he didn’t have to think too hard about agreeing with them. “Why not? You made acquaintances, you know? You can’t have too many friends of the same gender and grade level.” There was no particular reason they had to hurry back home. Tatsuya had originally planned to spend the afternoon somewhere to celebrate his sister enrolling, anyway.
The fact that he hadn’t thought very deeply about what he said let his truly unconcerned feelings about it come to the surface.
Erika and Mizuki also understood what he really thought of it, which was probably why they responded how they did.
“When it comes to Miyuki, Shiba leaves himself out, huh…”
“He’s very considerate toward his sister…”
Their stares each had its own mixture of praise and bewilde
rment. Tatsuya could only come back with a silent, uncomfortable smile.
The “cake shop” that Erika brought them too had actually been a French-style cafeteria with good desserts, so they ate lunch there and made merry with long conversation (though since there were three girls present, Tatsuya mostly just listened). Evening was already upon them when they got back home.
No one came out to greet them.
Tatsuya and Miyuki lived mostly by themselves in this house, which was much larger than the average home.
He went to his room and took off his uniform first.
They seemed to have gone to great lengths to make the difference stand out on his blazer. He didn’t want to believe that something so silly was affecting him emotionally, but when he took it off, he did feel his mood improve a bit. He scoffed at his own feelings, then quickly finished getting change.
Shortly afterward, as he was unwinding in the living room, Miyuki came downstairs. She had changed into her house clothes. Though materials engineering had advanced by leaps and bounds, clothing designs hadn’t changed much since a hundred years ago. The fetching lines of her legs stretched from her short skirt, which was reminiscent of early twenty-first-century styles.
For whatever reason, his sister’s sense of fashion featured more exposure when in the house. He should have gotten used to it by now, but lately she had gotten a lot more girly, and Tatsuya frequently found himself unsure of where to look.
“Tatsuya, shall I get you something to drink?”
“Hmm. I’ll have coffee, thanks.”
“I will be right back.”
Her hair, loosely tied in a single clump, swayed across her slim back as she moved toward the kitchen. She tied it back so it wouldn’t get in the way when she was working in the kitchen. Because of that, though, the white nape of her neck, normally hidden behind her long hair, was going in and out of sight because of her sweater with a wide neckline, producing an indescribable allure.
In developed nations, where the use of a home automation robot (HAR, or “Haru” for short) was widespread, women standing in the kitchen—and men, too, of course—were becoming something of a rarity. Full-fledged cooking was one thing, but only those who were interested did minor things like make toast or coffee on their own.