A Hot Day

I wondered if there was some way to destroy even one of those so-called “Lovers’ Sanctuaries” scattered around the country where couples rang bells together. Or maybe I could somehow spread a superstition that ringing the bell guaranteed a breakup.

While I was thinking about things like that, another day was already about to end. Ah, what a barren life I lead.

The dating app was going reasonably well. I had been talking with women other than Yūha, too. But as usual, it was fruitless.

…Well, there probably wasn’t anything more fruitless than talking to Yūha.

There were the obvious landmines, of course—people clearly only looking for sex, suspicious businesses with weird names, shady foreigners, and so on. But there were plenty of others who only made me tilt my head after the conversation had already begun.

They were the ones who had “liked” me first, yet never did anything unless I supplied the topic. I would struggle to keep the conversation lively and send them messages, only to get something like, “Right?” in response. It didn’t make me angry, but dealing with them was exhausting. Painful, even. It made me wonder why I had to put myself through this.

With a sigh, I decided to end yet another conversation for the day.

Still sitting at the very top of my message list was the account named “Yū.”

“Ughhh…”

And what was worse, my conversation with this one just kept getting livelier.

At the fastest, the replies came within a minute. Even at the slowest, the gap had shortened to twenty minutes. Even when I kept up my thirty-minute rhythm, she ignored that entirely and kept firing messages back.

Even when I only sent something like, “Yeah, exactly,” Yū would follow it up with another question like, “So, are you into ___?” Thanks to that, the conversation showed no sign of ending.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

I had assumed Yūha would eventually go off and start talking to some other guy. I mean, she was pretty, and she replied quickly. There was no question she had the potential to dominate on a dating app like this.

And yet,

“What the hell am I supposed to do if you and I end up hitting it off…?”

I groaned and held my head.

At first, I had only planned to bait her a little and eventually make fun of her for it. But before I knew it, things had dragged on and on, and now she had become the person I talked to the most.

It wasn’t like I called Keiji every day either, so she was ahead by a ridiculous margin.

At this point, it was kind of scary. A sense of unease reared its head, making me wonder if I had done something irreversible.

The next time we met, she might not stop at getting mad at me. She might stab me.

I really don’t want to see her…

I hardened my resolve never to go home for a visit and checked the latest message.

‘Sabu-san, what kind of work do you do?’

Now that was a difficult question.

A very difficult question.

Since I had written in my profile that I was a high school graduate living alone, I couldn’t exactly say I was unemployed. I had even put down a rough annual income.

Lying about that could cause problems later, so I hadn’t claimed anything ridiculous like working in medicine and earning ten million yen a year. I had honestly listed myself as self-employed with an annual income below three million yen.

I guess I’ll soften the wording a little while still avoiding an outright lie.

‘I work part-time and also do some work from home. Lately, I’ve gradually been cutting back on the part-time jobs.’

Yeah. Put that way, it kind of sounded like my business was slowly starting to go well.

In reality, I could earn more by simply taking higher-paying part-time jobs. Still, I have been trying different things since last year with the future in mind.

I didn’t really want to keep talking about work. I’d make my next reply a little slower. Yūha would probably take the hint.

I put my phone to sleep and lay down on the bed.

By the end of the day, I had already used up all my energy.

I fell asleep almost like I had passed out, with nothing left to do but wait for morning.

“Hot…”

By the time I finished delivering newspapers the next morning and made it back home, my body was already noticing something was wrong.

The sunlight still wasn’t at full strength, yet it was already brutally hot. The skin beneath my shirt was damp with sweat, the fabric sticking to me.

It was only mid-May, but lately the temperatures had felt like summer. I had to be careful not to get sick from the sudden change in weather.

I was alone, so I couldn’t afford to let my health fall apart.

Whether it was maintaining my reliability at work, preparing meals, or even going to the hospital, I had to handle everything by myself. I paid far more attention to my health now than I used to.

After hydrating, I took a shower and ate breakfast. My appetite was fine.

I made a pitcher of barley tea at room temperature and set it beside my desk so I could drink some every hour.

Yū had replied first thing in the morning, but I left the message alone for a while. Talking about work wasn’t exactly entertaining.

I booted up my computer and started working through the tasks I had been given.

At eleven, I suddenly looked up. I stood and stretched, my spine cracking loudly. After drinking some water, I stepped out onto the balcony for a moment.

“Damn, it’s hot.”

The sunlight had grown even stronger, beating down on the earth with malicious intensity. What has the planet ever done to deserve this? The sun could stand to be a little gentler. Not that anything would change just because I thought so.

Beyond my raised hand, the sky was blue when I squinted at it.

I opened the app and checked my messages.

‘You seem like a really independent adult. I admire that.’

Was that sarcasm? No, it was probably an honest impression. She didn’t know it was me, after all.

“…I’m not like that.”

Even knowing that, it didn’t make me feel particularly good.

Maybe I had made myself sound too impressive. I only had myself to blame. How stupid.

As planned, I would quickly change the subject. Not exactly out of spite, but… yeah.

‘There’s nothing to admire. Personally, I think high school was better.’

That wasn’t a lie. Still, I wondered what she would think when she saw it…

Well, whatever. Sending something like this probably wouldn’t have that much of an effect.

I sent it and went back inside.

I stood in front of the electric fan I had hastily dragged out and drank some barley tea. The drink was room temperature. Chilling my stomach wasn’t good for me.

There was still an hour until noon. I might as well push through a little longer.

I clattered away at the keyboard, producing the requested text. Even mindless work paid money, so the trick was not to think too deeply about it. What mattered was getting through enough of it.

Once I met the assigned quota, I submitted the work.

I had been so focused that noon arrived in no time.

Let’s see. Did she reply?

I checked the app, but there was nothing from Yū.

Instead, another woman had sent me a message consisting of nothing but, “Yes.” One reply after an entire day. At this pace, one of us would be a skeleton by the time we finished introducing ourselves.

“Haah…”

In the end, talking with Yūha was still the most comfortable. She replied quickly, and since I knew at least a little about her, it was easier to come up with topics.

It wasn’t that the other women were bad. I was simply terrible at approaching people I had just met.

I knew that. I knew it, but… what a pain.

I sent a halfhearted reply.

‘Exactly.’

If she didn’t respond to that, I’d just end things with her too.

I put down my phone, stood up, and made a simple lunch. I boiled some instant ramen, topped it with bean sprouts, and cracked an egg into it.

I threw it together quickly and ate without emotion.

It was cheap and easy and gave me the bare minimum amount of nutrition. But it was nothing more and nothing less. I had no complaints about the taste, but I never thought it was delicious either. Hence the lack of emotion.

Eating alone was simply something I did to stay alive.

There was no television in this apartment. My only entertainment was free video sites. Recently, I could even watch the news there, so they were useful. Without them, I really would have become completely cut off from society.

I finished eating while watching videos, cleaned up, and took a short break.

I stayed slumped in my chair while continuing to watch. I didn’t have that much work in the afternoon. I should finish it quickly and maybe go shopping today.

I checked my schedule, then looked at my phone again. Still no reply.

“Maybe she went to school today.”

That was possible too. People changed their minds on a whim all the time, and their actions changed along with them.

If that was the case, all the better.

I wasn’t going to tell her to go if she genuinely couldn’t, but if she could go, then it was obviously better to do so. That was what school was for.

…And it was hot outside.

I glanced outside. Blue sky. High clouds. It almost looked like summer.

With the temperature rising this suddenly, there were probably going to be plenty of people collapsing from heatstroke.

“No… surely not.”

“Hot…”

Under the strong sunlight, Yūha glared resentfully up at the sky.

Maybe the sun’s angle had shifted as the season moved toward summer. The bench that had been entirely shaded until recently was now half exposed to direct sunlight. She had squeezed herself into the remaining shaded half and was somehow enduring it.

She didn’t want to check the temperature. Knowing the actual number felt like it might break her spirit.

It felt like thirty degrees Celsius. The humid air clung heavily to her skin, and even drinking from her water bottle brought no real sense of refreshment.

And yet, for some reason, Yūha also found the situation strangely calming.

(Bad girls deserve to have bad things happen to them.)

Skipping school was one thing, but on top of that, she had hurt Rokurō because of her own misunderstanding, and the combination had sent her spiraling into self-loathing.

She wanted to apologize, but two years was far too long. She didn’t even know how she was supposed to bring it up now.

If she suddenly said through the dating app,

‘I’m your little sister,’

Rokurō would probably panic and run away.

No. Maybe he wouldn’t actually do that.

“Maybe he’s already figured it out…”

That was entirely possible. Unlike Yūha, Rokurō was sharp.

That was true in schoolwork, and it was true outside of school too. Whenever Yūha was in trouble, he had always lent her his wisdom. He could easily come up with bizarre solutions that ordinary people would never have considered—

She had been proud of him.

That was why she should have assumed that anything Yūha could figure out, Rokurō could figure out too.

She gripped her phone, tilted her head back, and rested it against her forehead. The screen felt lukewarm.

(I just want to disappear like this.)

Going home was awkward. Going to school only made her envious of the other girls. There was nowhere she belonged.

—Rokurō-kun is kind.

Nene had said that. She was right. Rokurō had only paid attention to Yūha because he was kind.

Even after Yūha had said such horrible things to him, he was still kind to her.

He was hardly a perfect person. His personality was twisted, and he wished misfortune on other people. Even so, he was kind to those he cared about. Probably more than an ordinary person, he treasured the people close to him.

Yūha hated herself for taking advantage of that kindness.

She couldn’t reply. She put her phone to sleep and slumped against the bench.

She had no idea how much time passed.

Sensing someone nearby, she suddenly raised her head.

Yūha was so startled she thought her heart might stop. The only reason she didn’t scream was because she had been half asleep just a moment earlier. Normally, she would have shouted at the top of her lungs.

She couldn’t even close her mouth after it fell open.

“What the hell? You look perfectly fine…”

The man wiped the sweat running down his cheek with his hand and let out a weary breath. His shoulders rose and fell, making it obvious at a glance that he had been running.

“Well, I’m going home, then.”

Once he realized Yūha had only been sitting there with her eyes closed, he turned on his heel to leave.

“W-Wai—”

She nearly said wait, then hurriedly corrected herself. There was no way she was going to say something that pathetic.

She might have been at fault, but this was still the man who had parted from her after a fight and then disappeared for two whole years. Thinking about that made anger rise inside her too.

“Wait right there!”

“What?”

Rokurō turned around with a thoroughly annoyed expression. His eyes, visible through his overgrown bangs, drooped in a troubled way. He wasn’t angry.

Yūha stepped forward and confronted him forcefully.

She needed something—anything—to make him stay. The moment she thought that, one answer came to mind.

“Where have you been for the last two years, you idiot big brother?”

Big brother.

At that word, Rokurō’s eyes widened.

Then, wearing the same expression she remembered—annoyed, troubled, but never angry—he shook his head.

“I told you, don’t call me your big brother.”