Fake Siblings

“Can I answer it? This could get complicated.”

“But the call came to me…”

Even as she said that, Yūha seemed uneasy too.

Since we’d started living together, I’d told her a little about what had happened that day.

The right to decide Yūha’s future was something I’d wrested from those parents by threatening them. How she chose to live was entirely up to her. Her parents were forbidden from negotiating with her, tempting her, or trying to gain her sympathy.

Until Yūha made up her own mind, she was allowed to stay with me. If she chose neither our father nor our mother, that was fine too.

And yet, if she was contacting her anyway—

“Sorry, Yūha. I don’t want to put it this way, but there are adult circumstances involved.”

Her parents’ contact information was still on her phone. There had always been a chance they would reach out through it.

Even if money was tight, I should’ve had the contract canceled immediately. That was one expense I shouldn’t have tried to save on.

I was disgusted by how careless I’d been. I was in no position to criticize anyone else.

“Hey, Rokurō. Will you answer just one thing?”

“Depends on the question.”

“Are you not telling me because it would hurt me? Or because you don’t want to tell me because it would hurt you?”

“Because it would hurt me.”

I answered immediately, certain that would make her back down. At this point, even I no longer knew which feeling was really mine. Maybe both were equally true.

Just as I’d expected, she nodded. I took the phone she held out to me. It was already unlocked.

“Okay. Then I won’t ask.”

“Sorry. It’s a selfish reason.”

“It’s fine. I don’t want to do something that you don’t want me to do.”

“Just relax here for a bit. I’ll be right back.”

I put on my shoes and ran toward the lake. Once I reached the railing, Yūha shouldn’t be able to hear the conversation anymore.

The phone kept ringing insistently, with repeated calls coming in, so I finally answered.

“Hello.”

“Oh. You’re not Yūha.”

The woman on the other end sounded surprised.

But her tone itself was clearly calm.

A month and a half ago, when I’d caught her off guard, all she’d been able to do was stare in shock.

I clicked my tongue internally. She’d anticipated that I might answer.

Which meant she had no problem with me answering.

While I’d been struggling just to make a life with Yūha work, this woman had been planning how to take her back from me.

Realizing I was in trouble, I immediately tried to throw her emotions off balance.

I changed my tone, changed the emotional rhythm of my voice.

I put on the personality best suited to winning this argument.

“No, no. I’m Yūha. Couldn’t you tell because my voice changed?”

“Stop making unpleasant jokes.”

Her answer came back edged with anger, so I responded with a cold laugh.

“It’s been so long since you saw her that I thought maybe you’d forgotten what your daughter’s voice sounded like. So, how are things with the new guy? Think you’ll manage to build a happy family this time? Or have you already found your next candidate for an affair?”

I hid blades behind every word and fired off question after question, deliberately scraping at her emotions.

“Your life as an attractive woman is going to end soon anyway, so wouldn’t you be happier ignoring your kid and spending your time flattering men instead? What’s your take on that?”

“You really do have a filthy mouth. I wonder who you got that from.”

“Who knows? They say children are heavily influenced by their parents, so probably one of you.”

“Sanjō.”

“Huh. You don’t even call Dad anything but his surname anymore.”

“That’s right.”

Her flat response made me realize I’d miscalculated.

This topic wasn’t going to shake her.

Before I could play another card, she moved first.

“Supporting Yūha must be difficult. I’ll take her in, so you can stop worrying and live for yourself, Rokurō.”

It felt as though fangs had sunk into the back of my neck.

“Too bad I’ve always been pretty capable. Supporting one Yūha is nothing. I’m even putting the full hundred thousand yen I’m getting straight into savings.”

“Can you buy her clothes? Are you feeding her proper meals? Do you take her out on your days off? Can you put Yūha through university all by yourself? You can’t, can you?”

Her words fell on me like lead, pressing down precisely where it hurt.

This was the one thing that wouldn’t disappear no matter how many times Yūha denied it.

What flashed through my mind was the enormous amount of jewelry I’d found in my mother’s room. There had been several brands even I recognized.

Her next man was probably wealthy.

My instincts told me this was no longer an argument of logic.

Unless I broke her will, this woman would never back down.

“You’re fine with me telling Yūha what you’ve done?”

“Yes. If you’re fine with her finding out that you’re not related to her by blood, then go ahead.”

I should’ve expected that answer.

And yet something still caught in the back of my throat.

‘We’ll make this child happy. Welcome to the Kunioka family, Rokurō!’

Hadn’t they chosen to become my family because they’d decided to love me even without a blood connection?

That naive thought crossed my mind, and I bit down hard on my tongue.

“Your father has been saying horrible things to me for years. He’s even been violent with me behind closed doors. If that’s the story I tell her, she’ll understand. There’s someone gentle who wants to protect us now. That part isn’t even a lie.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Yes. But if you take away her fake brother, her mentally ill father, and even her mother, then that girl will have nowhere left to go. So, Rokurō—you can’t reveal anything.”

“…!”

It felt like chewing gravel.

I couldn’t think of a single thing to say back.

“Let me speak to Yūha. If I can’t reach her by phone, I can always go to her school.”

“…Fine.”

That was my limit.

If she was willing to go as far as the school, this had already moved beyond anything I could stop.

“You should’ve done that from the beginning. You don’t even understand how much a parent loves the child she carried inside her.”

“What you have is just possessiveness.”

“Yūha is my child. Being with a proper parent is what’s best for her too.”

The woman on the other end said it as though possessing her was only natural.

Maybe that was the same feeling she’d once directed at me.

After her first divorce, she hadn’t taken me with her because she loved me.

She had taken me because she saw me as her possession.

And possessions lost their value when a new toy appeared.

There was no point saying anything to this person.

It felt similar to the helplessness I’d felt on the day I gave up on taking the entrance exams—an empty, hollow despair.

We were supposedly speaking the same language, yet I couldn’t feel even the slightest trace of mutual understanding.

I didn’t know how to stop this monster.

Frustrated, I dug my nails into my own face.

Nothing came to mind.

Then someone tapped my shoulder from behind, and the phone vanished from my hand.

My suddenly light right hand swiped uselessly through empty air.

“I’ll take over.”

Her white dress fluttered in the wind.

At some point, Yūha had appeared beside me.

She nodded a few times into the phone as she listened, then spoke clearly.

“I’m glad. So you’re doing okay, Mom. Yeah. Leave Rokurō to me. The two of us are doing fine, so you don’t need to worry.”

She seemed to talk a little longer after that, but in the end, she simply said,

“Okay, Mom. You stay well too.”

Then Yūha hung up.

Afterward, as if nothing had happened, she took my hand and pulled me along.

“I’m hungry. Let’s eat.”

“…Huh? Oh. Yeah.”

As if the argument from moments ago had never happened, the cheerful summer sun shone down on us.

“What are you so surprised about? You’re weird, Rokurō.”

Her clear, beautiful voice gently reached my ears.