If I Could Just Be Honest

Fleeing from the dumbfounded Rokurō, Yūha dove into the futon in her room. She pulled the towel blanket over her head and trembled in tiny shivers.

—I’ll let you pat my head.

What on earth had she been saying? Normally, she never would have even considered saying something like that.

She had been acting strange lately.

Whenever she saw Rokurō, her body naturally gravitated toward him, and at the end of each day, she found herself restless because she wanted to hurry into the room next door. On top of that, whenever the two of them talked, she felt strangely light and floaty, and for some reason, her heart started beating faster.

(At this rate, it’s almost like… I’m in love with him.)

She understood in her head that there was no way that could be true. This was nothing more than an illusion created by their bizarre circumstances.

Girls around Yūha’s age admired adult men. A dependable back, or the more rational way they carried themselves compared to boys their own age. All those signs of maturity looked attractive.

And when she had seen Rokurō again after two years apart, he had grown tremendously compared to the version of him in her memories.

Although she still caught glimpses of his fragility from time to time, his back had grown broad, and he firmly pulled Yūha along with him. Whenever she compared him to the boy he used to be, there were moments when his newfound strength made her heart skip.

That contrast threatened to overwhelm her.

She found herself wanting to be spoiled by those larger hands of his.

But even if that were true, normally, she never would have asked for it outright. Following the example of the crafty Rokurō, she would have schemed until she created a situation where he had no choice but to do it. Or at the very least, she would have steered him so forcefully that he came up with the idea himself.

She mussed up her own hair and regretted it intensely.

She had a vague idea of what had caused this. Yes. Misuzu was influencing her.

Because that woman was so honest—

When Yūha witnessed Misuzu’s straightforward affection for Riichi, the words slipped out of her mouth.

“Somehow… that’s nice.”

At first, she hadn’t even understood why she felt that way. She had simply found herself vaguely drawn to Misuzu. Compared to Yūha, who tended to keep her feelings hidden, people who could openly express themselves looked incredibly brave and radiant.

Even when Riichi was actually present, Misuzu’s behavior was completely direct.

“Riichi-san! Want to go somewhere together on your next day off?”

“I’m planning to go greet one of my suppliers that day, so let’s do it another time.”

“When’s ‘another time’?”

“Hmm. This month will probably be difficult, at least.”

“I see, I see. Running a shop keeps you busy, Riichi-san! Yeah. Do your best. I’m cheering for you!”

“Haha. Thanks.”

Although he brushed her off somewhat lightly, Misuzu paid it no mind and kept pushing forward. Riichi had probably realized how she felt too. For now, his restraint as an adult was still holding, but Yūha had a feeling Misuzu might eventually wear him down.

Even from an outside perspective, Riichi Ōtaka looked like the type who was weak against persistent advances.

In some ways, that reminded her of Rokurō.

Rokurō was probably weak to pressure too. If someone kept expressing their feelings toward him over and over, eventually he would turn around and look at them.

His former girlfriend, Nene Komaki, had been like that.

Yūha was different.

Instead, Rokurō had seen her properly from the very beginning, but there was nothing beyond that. Wasn’t that something to be happy about? Of course it was.

She crushed the feelings that had begun to sprout and convinced herself to be satisfied with what she had now.

Even so.

“Look, Riichi-san! I got certified as a food sanitation supervisor!”

“You worked hard. You really are diligent, Misuzu.”

“Heheh.”

When Misuzu reported that she had apparently accomplished something, Yūha saw Riichi pat her on the head.

And she thought—

(I want him to do that to me too!)

It had been nothing more than a pure, straightforward desire.

She had found herself jealous of Misuzu for being able to act so honestly.

And that had led to this.

“Ughhh…”

Why had she developed such an intense longing to have her head patted?

It was Rokurō’s fault.

Even though he was absurdly indulgent toward Yūha, he had barely ever touched her, even in the past. He handled her with extreme care, as though she were something fragile.

She could count on one hand the number of times she remembered him patting her head.

Perhaps the more precious something was, the more frightening it became to touch it. Even Yūha could imagine that much.

But it was frustrating. She wanted him to pat her head. That simple thought filled most of her mind.

That awkward man would hesitantly reach out his hand. He would gently touch Yūha’s hair as though he were brushing against the fluff of a dandelion. At first he would look uncomfortable, then gradually grow accustomed to it, and finally ruffle her hair firmly. He would say, “That’s enough, right?” and look away, wearing an irritated yet somehow satisfied expression.

Just imagining it made something tighten deep inside her chest.

The snakeskin lying beside her pillow suddenly felt strangely far away.

I went to sleep thinking, So I’m allowed to pat her head… and when I woke up, things were awkward between Yūha and me.

It wasn’t like I had said anything wrong. If anything, maybe the problem was that I hadn’t done anything at all.

Right after waking up, I was washing my face and brushing my teeth when Yūha came into the washroom too. I already had a toothbrush in my mouth, so I couldn’t say anything, and Yūha stiffened the moment she ran into me.

While the two of us were awkwardly glancing around, Kagari came in.

“Ta-da! Let’s have another energetic day!”

With an impossible amount of vitality for someone who had just woken up, she started splashing water all over her face.

Normally, this would have been where I said something like, “You’re too damn loud this early,” and got the conversation flowing. But I was brushing my teeth. I couldn’t say anything. I couldn’t do anything. Thus, Completely Powerless Rokurō was born.

Beside me, Yūha quietly started brushing her teeth too, and the atmosphere completely died.

At breakfast, it got awkward enough for Fuzuki-san to ask,

“Did something happen?”

The only one who didn’t notice was Kagari. She alone happily shoveled white rice into her mouth.

As for me, all I could do was sip my miso soup while thinking, Someone save me…

Should I have just patted her head without hesitation at that moment last night? If I had, maybe things wouldn’t have ended up like this.

But I had resistance toward touching Yūha.

I wasn’t particularly good at touching people in general, but with her, I hesitated even more.

It hadn’t always been that way, but maybe it started when I entered middle school. After seeing the distance between boys and girls around me begin to widen, I naturally thought I should create more distance between Yūha and myself too.

Rather than staying close to her as her brother, I thought I should treat her as an individual girl.

After all, we weren’t related by blood. If I got overly touchy with her, it felt like I would be deceiving her somehow, and I’d feel guilty.

Looking at other siblings around me, it seemed normal for them to gradually stop getting along as well. I figured there was such a thing as an appropriate distance, so I drew a line for myself.

There was also that general social attitude, right? A woman touching a man was fine, but if a man did the same thing to a woman, it was practically treated like a crime. I had partly followed that logic too.

That was why I was surprised she had crossed that line from her side.

Eventually it was time for work, and I no longer had the luxury of thinking about it.

There was no lie in my repertoire that would let me pat Yūha’s head.

And although I understood intellectually that this was probably something a lie couldn’t solve anyway—