My Stepsister is My Ex-Girlfriend - Volume 4 - Chapter 3.1

The Ex-Couple Visits Family (1)

The Siberian Dancing Girl

My first thought when we got off the train was about how not in the middle of nowhere we were. We’d gotten off at a large station that had a ton of gift shops. If none of those caught your eye, well, there was a kind of mall right outside the station. It honestly felt like a city with the number of people out and about. “Middle of nowhere,” huh? I hadn’t expected Mizuto’s description to be so hyperbolic.

And then we boarded a bus. The sound of air being released as the doors closed filled the cabin. Surprisingly, there was only one other passenger aside from us. It’s the middle of the day... How is this possible?

While doubt swirled in my mind, the outside scenery rapidly began to change. Civilization was quickly getting more and more primitive with each passing second. Buildings disappeared, and fields took their place. The tallest things around were the metal transmission towers.

The deeper we went into the valley, the greener it got. The only reminder of human existence was the bus we were riding. Outside was just field after dull field.

“Thank you!” Mineaki-ojisan said. The bus driver tipped his hat in acknowledgment. They apparently knew each other.

With the bus gone, we were left at a roofless bus stop surrounded by seemingly endless fields. The only shade was provided by the treetops above us. The branches shook each time the wind blew, making me wince when the bright sun flashed through the gaps.

The cries of cicadas filled my ears now that the whirring of the bus engine was long gone. Where was the world I knew? Could I go back home? I was starting to get a little anxious in this seemingly new dimension.

“Wow! Look, Yume! There are only three buses per day!” mom said with an energy unbefitting her age as she pointed at the bus schedule.

“One in the morning, afternoon, and night,” Mineaki-ojisan added. “We’re better off than most folks. It’s hard to send a bus all the way out to the countryside. Barely anyone gets off here, so there’s not much money to be made.”

“What do you do when you need to shop?”

“There are a lot of old folks out here, so the town’s stores deliver batch orders according to the local government’s instructions. Plus, most of the old folks can order stuff online without any problem. If they need something more, they can drive to town themselves.”

“I see...”

“It’s a little rough for the younger people without their licenses. They have to make sure they don’t miss the bus—otherwise they’re stranded. Although, I guess it’s a good opportunity for them to live life a little. Anyway, shall we?” he said, shepherding us forward.

So Mizuto’s grandmother’s house was walking distance from the bus stop. I reached for my suitcase, but another hand beat me to it.

“H-Hey!”

He pretended not to hear me and casually pulled my suitcase along. What’s his problem? That’s my suitcase. At least ask first! I hurried to catch up to him so I could give him a piece of my mind, but something stopped me. What, you might ask? A very, very steep hill.

Mizuto walked right on up without saying a word, still dragging my suitcase behind him. It couldn’t have been easy to do that, but he wasn’t struggling, as far as I could tell. His expression was just as nonchalant as it always was. But seriously...if you’re gonna do something like this, tell me why before you do it!

“Oh...”

“W-Wow...”

After climbing the hill, we arrived at a wooden gate. This is his grandmother’s house? It’s more of a mansion than a house. Both mom and I were speechless. The front of the house had a white wall that stretched for about fifty feet or more, and it was adorned with a beautiful tiled roof.

“Is your family actually loaded, Mineaki-san?”

“The only rich one in the family was my grandfather, but he didn’t leave an inheritance. I heard he donated most of his wealth. This is about the only thing left from him.”

“Aw, what a waste.”

“Both my mom and uncle left the house as soon as they could, so they couldn’t complain.”

Oh, right. Now that I think about it, Mizuto’s a scholarship student. I glanced at my little stepbrother standing next to me. He was wearing an annoyed expression while glaring towards the sun.

“So hot...” I said.

“True. Let’s go in.”

We passed through the front garden to get to the doorbell. Despite how grand the house was, the noise from the doorbell was as normal as any house’s.

“Coming...”

The sliding door opened and an apron-clad old lady appeared on the other side. My first thought was that she might’ve been a helper or something, but her face lit up as soon as she saw Mizuto.

“Oh! Mizuto? You’ve gotten so big!”

Mizuto gave her a quick nod in greeting, and she burst into laughter.

“You’re just as unsociable as ever! No wonder you haven’t gotten yourself a girlfriend yet!”

“Mom, didn’t you say you want to avoid becoming the kind of old country lady who tells people what’s what about relationships?” Mineaki-ojisan chided.

“Oh, whoops! You’re right. Well, come on in!” she said, beckoning us inside. “I apologize for my late introduction. I’m Natsume Irido.” She bowed to me and mom. “I would’ve done it sooner if this stupid son of mine hadn’t told me out of the blue that he’d remarried...”

“It wasn’t out of the blue. I told you two weeks ago—”

“That’s the definition of out of the blue!”

I covertly nodded in agreement, and I could tell that Mizuto had done the same. They’d kept it a secret from us for as long as they could in order to help us focus on exams, but there had to have been a better way to go about it. Although, knowing that our parents were going to marry each other right before we broke up might have been the worst possible scenario.

“I’m so sorry mom!” mom chimed in. “We weren’t sure about everything until the very last minute.”

“It’s fine, Yuni-san. I’m happy that you chose to marry him. Thank you very much.”

“Oh, no, you don’t need to thank me or anything!”

Natsume-san—Grandma?—deeply bowed her head to mom, making her flustered. Now that I think about it, I have no clue how mom and Mineaki-ojisan got together in the first place. I bet it was rough...

“And you must be Yume-chan,” she said, looking over at me. I felt my body tense up and my back straighten.

“I’m Yume Irido. Thank you for having me.”

“You’re so well-mannered. How nice. Are you getting along with Mizuto?”

“Y-Yes.”

“They get along better than we do, don’t they, Yuni-san?” Mineaki-ojisan grinned.

“They seriously do!” mom replied with a smile. “Mizuto-kun’s so nice to her.”

“Mizuto is? Really?” Natsume-san gently laughed. “It’s strange, getting a mature grandchild like her out of nowhere. It feels more like I’ve gotten a granddaughter-in-law.”

“Huh?” A what? I felt myself freeze up while mom giggled.

“Aw, Yume, do you want to marry Mizuto-kun?” Natsume-san asked teasingly.

“O-Of course not! Never!”

“Hee hee, I’m just kidding!”

My heart can’t take this. I peeked at Mizuto to see his reaction, but as expected, he was stone-cold. This was better than him getting flustered too, but it still pissed me off for some reason.

“You must all be tired. Come on. Mineaki, did you eat lunch?”

“Yeah, we picked something up on the way.”

“Is that right? Okay, then put your stuff down first. Mineaki, show them around.”

“Okay. This way.”

We took our luggage and followed Mineaki-ojisan deeper into the house, which was even bigger than it looked. I could see myself getting lost in here if I was alone. It was also old; each step we took made the aged wood creak.

“Is your mom from Kansai?”

“No, but she definitely acts like it because of dad. He was a Kyoto man through and through.”

As mom and Mineaki-ojisan chatted away, I looked out the window, only to see a beautiful garden. Our house had a garden too, but the one here was so grand, it felt straight out of a TV show. I’d never seen anything like it in real life. It reminded me of a classic movie called The Inugamis.

Mineaki-ojisan pointed to a door in the hall. “That’s our room over there. Your room’s next to ours.”

“Okay.”

“After you put your stuff down, we’ll go visit the altar.”

“Got it!”

Maybe they were being considerate of Mizuto and me when they planned the room assignments, because mom and I were in one room, and Mizuto and Mineaki-ojisan were in the other. Speaking of which, ours was a traditional Japanese-style room.

As I took my clothes out of my suitcase, I heard mom let out a relieved sigh.

“I’m so glad she’s such a nice person. I have no idea what I would’ve done if she was the stereotypical strict mother-in-law.”

“You’ve never talked to her before?”

“Just a little over the phone, but that’s about it.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah. What a relief,” mom said, slumping onto the ground.

I hadn’t realized she’d been so nervous, but it made sense. Who wouldn’t be nervous facing their partner’s family and wondering if they’d be accepted or not? Mom and I were outsiders. I’d come with a happy-go-lucky attitude, but...were we going to be okay?

“Their entire family’s going to be here, right? How many do you think that will be?”

“Hm... I think most of the Tanesato family will be here.”

“The...Tanesato family?”

“That’s her maiden name. She has an older brother who has a son and grandchildren. There should be a good number of people from their side of the family here.”

My grandmother’s brother, huh...? What was I supposed to call him? He also had a son and grandchildren. I wondered if they were around my age, and if we would get along.

“Yuni-san, Yume-chan, you two ready?”

“Yeah! Come on, Yume, let’s go!”

As we left our room, I caught sight of Mizuto’s face. I still had no idea what was going on with him. Right now, it looked like he was spacing out and idly following Mineaki-ojisan around. Has he even said one word since he got here?

We walked through the creaking halls again and finally arrived at the room with the Buddhist altar. Since we were here for Obon, we’d most likely visit the actual graves as well. We couldn’t visit Mizuto’s mom’s grave until we got back home, because her grave wasn’t here.

“Here we go.” Mineaki-ojisan stopped in front of the room. Right as he was about to open the sliding doors, they opened on their own.

“Ah.” This sound came from a young woman standing on the other side of the door. She had red-framed glasses and was about ten centimeters taller than me. I guessed that she was a college student. Overall, I felt a kind of instant kinship with her because it felt like she looked bookish, kinda like me. But the moment that thought entered my mind, my illusions were shattered.

“Mizuto!!! It’s been sooo long!” she squealed as she tightly hugged Mizuto.

Uh... What? My brain couldn’t keep up with what was happening. She looked like a calm, collected librarian, but that impression of her immediately disappeared. She sounded like a girl at a club. Also, is it just me, or is she three times as outgoing and social as Akatsuki-san? Worse, though, was the fact that she was so physically intimate. I’d never seen a person who hugged someone as a greeting. Is she American? Is she?!

“Oh, Madoka-chan! How have you been?”

“Good. It’s nice to see you again, Mineaki-ojisan!” the woman named Madoka replied, still squeezing Mizuto against her chest.

How long are you going to hug him for?! She was most likely his relative, but he hated being approached by other people. A hug was completely inconceivable. If I tried hugging him, he would brush me off without saying anything and ignore me, and he’d—

“Hello, Madoka-san.”

He’s talking now?! His facial expression hadn’t changed a bit, but I was positive I heard him speak. I was in shock. Up until now I’d only heard him breathe, but now he was talking?!

“Heh heh! Phew. You’re still as unsociable as ever! I was worried that you would’ve had a high school glow-up or something.”

“High school’s not a place for that.”

“Whew, aren’t you cool?”

Now he’s bantering?! Also, did he just diss me?!

“Hm?” Madoka... No, Madoka-san let go of Mizuto and looked at me and mom. “Are these two...”

“Oh, yes,” Mineaki-ojisan replied. “Let me introduce you. This is my wife and her daughter.”

“I’m Yuni Irido.”

“I-I’m Yume.”

“Oho... Hm...”

I could feel her staring at us...no, primarily me. Why?

Mineaki-ojisan gestured towards Madoka-san. “And this is my uncle’s granddaughter, Madoka Tanesato, and his grandson, Chikuma-kun.”

Who? I was confused by the second name, but then I saw a small head nervously peeking out from behind Madoka-san. At first, I thought Chikuma was a girl, but then I remembered that Mineaki-ojisan had called him the grandson.

Very shy and very cute, he was probably in fifth or sixth grade. I could tell how nervous he was. His eyes were darting back and forth behind his long bangs. As soon as our eyes met, he hid behind his older sister, Madoka-san.

There was no doubt that he was shy. There was no way my expectations could be betrayed this time. The connection I felt was genuine. I used to be just like him, hiding behind my mom.

“Sorry about him. He’s so shy.”

“Oh, it’s okay, Yume used to be like him until recently. Right?”

“Could you not volunteer that information without asking?” I grumbled.

“Ha ha, sorry.”

How could parents be so loose-lipped about their children? I walked around Madoka-san and crouched in front of Chikuma-kun to be eye level with him.

“Hello, I’m Yume Irido. It’s very nice to meet you.” I tried sounding as nice as possible, but his face got even redder and he ran off into the hallway. Huh?

“Hm... I see.” Madoka-san was looking at me again as if she was appraising me.

“What do you see?”

“Oh no, it’s just that I can tell how hard you’ve worked.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t get me wrong—I’m not making fun of you or anything! I was worried what might happen if Mizuto-kun’s new stepsister was the super outgoing type, but seeing you, I’m relieved. I’m really happy you’re his sibling! I look forward to getting to know you more as a cousin.”

Madoka-san suddenly grabbed my hand and began shaking it. Uh... Huh? Did she just compliment me? Also, why did she say “as a cousin”? She wasn’t putting on a show now so she could pull the rug out from under me later, right?

“Now that I look at it, we have the same taste in clothes. We’re so similar!”

“Huh?”

I took another look at Madoka-san’s outfit, which was just like mine: bright colors, a pleated long skirt, and a tucked-in, slightly too big blouse. It was the same kind of outfit that Akatsuki-san and I had put together for Higashira-san.

Also, it hit me that Madoka-san had a great body. She was taller than Higashira-san, so she appeared to be slenderer, but her breasts seemed to be about the same size. And since I was so close to her, I was getting a good look at her cleavage. My heart skipped a beat.

“Yes... Now that you mention it, I think we may have similar styles.”

“Right?! I’ve always liked these kinds of clothes. My friends at college say my style’s childish, but I really feel like loose and comfortable clothes are perfect for girls. You think so too, right?”

“Y-Yes... I think they’re very cute.”

I’d only adopted this style to match his tastes—wait. I tilted my head. If she’s “always liked these kinds of clothes” then wouldn’t that mean that she’d always been wearing such modest outfits? Mizuto would have had to see her in these clothes too. So if he wanted me to wear the same kinds of clothes, wouldn’t that mean... Hm?!

I’d always thought that he preferred this style because of light novels or something, but could it be that the real reason was...

“I’m so happy! I think we’re gonna get along great! There aren’t a lot of young people among our relatives, so I hope we can be good friends, Yume-chan!”

“O-Oh, yes... Of course...”

Suddenly I remembered something that I’d heard: a guy’s first love is usually an older relative.

As night arrived, so did more and more of their relatives. Suddenly, it was like we were at a banquet where we, the new faces, were the guests of honor.

“Are you and Mizuto gettin’ along all right? He’s such an obstinate kid.”

“They’ve hit it off surprisingly well, actually.”

“Really? That’s a load off our minds.”

This had already happened five times. At this point, I was just smiling and sipping my oolong tea.

“Hey, Madoka-chan, you’re really puttin’ ’em back!”

“You just turned twenty! This must be the Tanesato blood in ya.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet!”

There were a little over a dozen of us, the majority drinking away while Chikuma-kun, Mizuto, and I awkwardly sat around. I felt really out of place. I couldn’t keep up with their energy at all. Was this how drinking parties were? Or was this just what a family reunion was like? Either way, I had no experience, so I didn’t know.

“I was so worried about a boy and girl living under the same roof.”

“Kids these days. They’re all so-called ‘herbivores.’”

“Mine-kun, nobody says that anymore.”

“Oh, really?”

“Hey, Yume-chan, keep eatin’. Here, have more sushi.”

“O-Okay...”

All I could do during this all-over-the-place banquet was watch as the pile of food on my plate grew.

“It’s not fair!” I heard a voice call out, and then suddenly, something soft touched my back.

“Wha— M-Madoka-san?”

“It’s so not fair, Yume-chan!”

She reeks of alcohol! Madoka-san, who was currently pressing against my back, was completely drunk. Also, how freaking big are those things?! I could tell their exact shape, even though she was wearing a bra. I could feel their shape changing as she leaned against me. She was just another girl, but it still made my heart beat faster.

“Y’know, Mizuto-kun neeever talked to meee. So how did you two get sooo close sooo faaast?”

“Huh? You weren’t close at first?”

“Yeaaah. I’ve been looking after him eeever since he was in kindergarten.”

Mizuto was completely ignoring us and focusing on his boiled potatoes. I was surprised, though. He was pretty nice to me right off the bat, but he used to avoid her?

“Mizuto-kun is just like grandpa.” The one who said this was Chikuma-kun and Madoka-san’s father. He looked like he was around forty, like Mineaki-ojisan. Is he my uncle too? How should I address him?

“He’s just as taciturn, stubborn, and avid a reader as he,” he continued. “I’m excited to see him become a big shot in the future.”

“Hey! Why aren’t you excited about your own daughter?” Madoka-san huffed.

“Maybe after you stop being late for every class, ya dumb bastard.”

“Ha! Girls can’t be bastards. Now who’s dumb?”

I tilted my head. “When you say ‘grandpa,’ are you referring to...”

“To you, he’d be a great-grandfather. He was the previous owner of this mansion. Uh...what was his name again?”

“Kosuke. Kosuke Tanesato,” said the still-sober Mineaki-ojisan. “He had a pretty dramatic life. As a parent, I want my son to be able to live a peaceful life.”

“And you’re doin’ it! Your son’s grown up to be so healthy. You’ve done a good job, Mineaki-kun! You really have!”

“I really appreciate that,” Mineaki-ojisan faintly smiled and took a drink from Madoka-san’s dad. Mom gently smiled from next to him.

“He raised him as a single dad from pretty much the moment Mizuto-kun was born...” Madoka-san said, still pressed against my back. “I heard that my grandmother helped out, but it was still tough.”

Mizuto’s birth mother, Kana Irido, had a weak body and died right after giving birth to him. Mineaki-ojisan had probably still been in his twenties. Despite losing his wife at such a young age, he’d continued to raise and protect Mizuto. Then he’d married mom right after Mizuto finished middle school.

It made sense. The timing of their marriage, the fact that they’d held off on telling us until the very last second, the fact that we were more warmly welcomed than I’d expected—it was all proof that Mineaki-ojisan had overcome the biggest challenge that life had thrown at him. This made me think even more than before that I—we—needed to protect our family.

“Dad...”

“Hm?”

Before I realized it, Mizuto was standing behind Mineaki-ojisan.

“I’m done eating.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks.”

“I’ll see you later.” Mizuto walked out of the room. Where’s he going, and why did Mineaki-ojisan thank him?

“I’m not letting you run away, Yume-chan!”

“M-Madoka-san, you’re crushing me!”

“You got a boyfriend? I bet you do! You’re super cute! If you don’t, I’ll datecha!”

“Madoka drank a lot!”

“It runs in the family! Ha ha ha!”

“Phew...” I was finally able to relax as I soaked in hot water up to my shoulders. I found myself idly watching the steam rise up to the blue tiled ceiling.

I had relatives on my mom’s side that I saw every now and then, but this was definitely the first time I’d met so many at once. It gave me mixed feelings, experiencing it with him. I never even imagined meeting all of his family when we were dating.

I hadn’t heard a thing about his great-grandfather having been rich or that he had a beautiful cousin like Madoka-san either. Mizuto had been acting no differently than usual, but it was unusual that he left the dinner by himself. Who does that?

I got out of the bath and walked to the veranda. This was a part of traditional Japanese homes that I had to take advantage of now that I was here. Being able to sit out here on this deck-like platform while enjoying the night breeze had an air of elegance to it.

I could still hear the adults partying in the distance. Among them, I could hear my mom, who’d apparently stayed to drink as well. I was amazed at how easily she was able to adapt. Are we really related?

“Oh?”

“Ah...”

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who’d come here. Chikuma-kun was sitting there, holding a portable game console in his hands. It made sense for a kid his age, but thanks to a certain someone, I was a little surprised that he wasn’t reading a book.

“You’re out here by yourself, Chikuma-kun?”

“Y-Yeah...”

Oh, wow, he responded to me...even though he didn’t take his eyes off the game. It kind of made me happy.

“Where’s your sister?”

“She’s still drinking...”

“Oh... I see...” She just turned twenty, right? How is she keeping up with them already?

“Wh-When she gets drunk, she gets really touchy-feely.”

Oh, wow! Now he’s talking to me!

“So you ran away?” I asked.

“Y-Yeah...”

“Did you take a bath?”

“I-I did...”

“I see. Maybe I should let him know, then...” Natsume-san had told me that after I finished my bath, I should tell the others so they could go in. I was sure that he hadn’t taken one yet.

As I thought about that, I felt Chikuma-kun staring at me.

“Something wrong?”

“U-Uh, no. Nothing...” he said, inching away from me.

Is he nervous about me? I couldn’t blame him. Some random girl who’d become his cousin-in-law was talking to him all of a sudden. I’d have my guard up too. Maybe if we had a mutual topic we could talk about, I could get him to open up. Reading didn’t seem to be something I could use, though...

“Hey, Chikuma-kun... What do you think about that guy—I mean, Mizuto-kun?” Ultimately, the only shared topic I could come up with was him. I really had no other choice.

Chikuma-kun averted his gaze. “U-Uh...”

“Is he nice? Scary?”

“Um... He’s...” After taking a while to look for the right words, he finally came up with something. “I don’t really know.”

“Really?”

“We haven’t really talked... He’s always in great-grandpa’s study.”

His great-grandfather’s study? Really? He always loved to hole up somewhere, even at his relative’s house.

“B-But—” For some reason, Chikuma-kun seemed frantic or worried about something.

“Yes?”

“I think he’s kinda cool...”

“Cool...?”

Chikuma-kun nodded embarrassedly. “He’s very bold...and he doesn’t care about what other people think. I... I can’t be like that.”

“I see...”

I totally get that. I’d respected him for the same exact reason back then. He may have seemed infallible, but really, he wasn’t. He’d messed up a lot of different times.

“But of course he does...” I murmured.

“Huh?”

“Oh, sorry, I was talking to myself.” I laughed, trying to play it off. “Sorry that I interrupted your game.”

“Oh, it’s okay...”

“I’ll see you later... Oh, actually, can I ask one more thing?” I turned around like a detective who looked like she was about to let the suspect get away, but instead asked the question that would nail them. “Where’s the study?”

I remembered the first time I saw him. On that first day of classes when everyone else was busy making friends, he was the only person who was calmly deep in the world of books. This was back when I was Ayai, and he was still Irido.

Due to our seating numbers, I was next to the window in the front of the class. He sat right behind me and would read in complete silence. I never saw him as pitiful. Every time I turned around, I felt a little more courageous. It reminded me that it was okay to live like he did.

I didn’t care about getting teased. I could blend into the background and dive into my own little world. Or maybe I was relieved by the fact that I’d found someone worse than me. Maybe that’s just how weak of a mentality I had. Either way, his presence supported me in middle school. That was a fact. I never expected him to become so important to me.

I followed Chikuma-kun’s instructions to the study, which was at the end of the hallway. This room had belonged to Mizuto’s...or I guess, our great-grandfather, Kosuke Tanesato. It was the room that Mizuto would hole up in every time he visited. He himself had mentioned that whenever he came here, he passed the time by reading books.

The door was open, letting in moonlight which softly illuminated the cellar-like room. There were two huge bookcases on either side of the room. There were so many of them that they were scattered across the floor because they couldn’t fit on the shelves. The already small room was even more cramped because of that.

The main sources of light were a single old light bulb in the center of the ceiling, a small desk lamp, and the moonlight. In this poorly lit cavern of a room, he was sitting in front of the small desk, blending in.

It was like this room was stuck a few decades in the past. Mizuto looked like he was right at home. A hallucination encapsulated me—visions of him sitting here in the post-war period filled my mind. I hesitated to call out to him or even set foot inside. This space was complete.

The world was already complete with him. It would be destroyed if an extra like me entered. This was who Mizuto Irido had always been. He completed his world. There was no space for anyone else to enter. But if that was the case... If that’s how he’d always been, then why... Why did you take someone like me as your girlfriend?

My memories from middle school felt distant. His kindness. His smile. His embarrassment. All the things he showed me and only me... They had to have been some kind of mistake.

We’d become family. We lived in the same house. I even listened to stories from his relatives who’d known him longer than I had. That’s exactly why I knew that the way he was during middle school was extremely special. From his perspective, it might have been one of a few aberrations in his life.

It was the same for me as well. My past self had been extremely special, and we’d been special to each other. But...my past self couldn’t have ever seen him like this... And now, I had it all figured out. We weren’t special. We were just...normal.

The hot-headed period of our life had ended. We’d calmed down and faced reality. That’s why I took a slight breath and stepped inside the study, an intimidating mountain of books on either side of me. My nose was immediately caressed by the sweet smell of old books.

As I got lost gazing at the piles of history, Mizuto turned to me. “Oh, it’s you. What do you want?” His voice was even softer than usual. I tried to keep it together while I remembered why I had come.

“The bath... I came to get you.”

“Oh... It’s already this late?” He exhaled and closed the book he’d been reading at the desk.

It was a strange book. It looked like a hardcover, but there was nothing on the cover. The only thing it had was the title, which was messily inscribed. I thought it was a specialty book or something, but it was too thin for that. It had to have been only about a hundred pages or so.

“You’re not going to use a bookmark?”

“Nah. I already remember all of it anyway.”

“Huh?”

“This book can only be found here. I reread it every year.”

“It’s that rare?” It certainly did seem like there could be a lot of rare books here that could go for hundreds of thousands of yen. I started to panic and focused very hard to not step on any of the books.

“Yeah, it’s rare in a sense. After all, there’s only one copy in the world.”

“Only one?”

“It was self-published, but the author didn’t want to sell it. He just wanted a printed copy.” Mizuto lightly stroked the book.

I took a few steps towards Mizuto, being careful not to step on any books. When I got close enough, I gave the title a closer look.

“The Siberian Dancing Girl?” That was all that was written; the author’s name was nowhere to be found. I was familiar with the term “dancing girl” from Ogai Mori’s book that we’d read in modern Japanese, but what was the “Siberian” part about?

“What’s it about?”

“It’s my great-grandfather’s autobiography.”

“His...autobiography?” I asked, confused.

“Kinda cringe, right?” Mizuto smirked.

Thinking about it, I remembered hearing something about a good number of middle and high schoolers wanting to publish their autobiographies back then.

“When I was little...maybe first grade or something, I stumbled upon this book. It had no author or anything, so it was super suspicious. But maybe that’s why I opened it in the first place. And now I reread it each year.”

“Is it that interesting?”

“Hm, as a reference, I think Keigo Higashino’s works are way more interesting. It uses a lot of big words, so it was almost impossible for me to read as a kid. Even so, I read it all. It was the first story I’d ever read from cover to cover by myself.”

I knew how he felt and how important that feeling was. Back when my biological dad was living with us, I’d found a book stuck in the back of our house’s bookcase. The book that I’d picked out on a whim had been written by a famous author, but it wasn’t considered a masterpiece or anything. Only real fans would know of its existence.

I’d only grabbed it because it had a title that would interest any elementary schooler—Agatha Christie’s Murder in Mesopotamia. It was only later that I learned what I’d read was a translation of the original.

Sure, it wasn’t as famous or as clever as her other books like And Then There Were None or The Murder of Roger Ackroyd, but that book that nobody but Agatha Christie fans would know about opened my world. It got me into the cleverness of closed room murders and the charm of great detectives.

Just as Murder in Mesopotamia opened my world, The Siberian Dancing Girl had opened Mizuto’s world. I fit myself into a small space between Mizuto and a pile of books and sat down on my knees next to him to look at the book.

“I get ‘Dancing Girl’ but why ‘Siberian’? Does it have to do with a railroad?”

“Have you ever opened a textbook?”

“Huh?”

“The Siberian internment camps. After the war, he spent three or four years detained in Russia.”

“Detained...”

It wasn’t a very familiar word to me and felt like an incredibly distant reality. So our great-grandfather fought in the war...

“So this is about his time spent as a prisoner in Siberia?”

“Kinda. Most of what he writes about is how there was so little food, he thought he was gonna die. And how it was so cold, he thought he was gonna die. And how he had to work so hard, he thought he was gonna die.”

“It’s all about him thinking he was going to die?”

“He also talks about how his friends died in front of him.”

My mouth clamped shut. I’ve never been starved. I’ve never been so cold I feared for my life. I’ve never had to go through any physical hardships. The closest would be gym class. Even after reading about this kind of stuff in our textbooks, it felt so unreal that it might as well have been from a different world entirely.

“So where does the ‘dancing girl’ come in?”

“Ogai Mori.”

“Oh, like Elise?”

“Yeah, it’s a reference to her, and how he got close with a girl in Siberia.”

“That’s...a kind of romantic story. Hopefully it didn’t turn out the same as Mori’s tale, though, or it’d be really tragic. So does that mean you have Russian blood in you?”

“Why don’t you read it then?” He held the book out to me.

“Huh?” I was caught completely off guard.

“Books are meant to be read. If you’re that curious, you should find out for yourself. As you can see, it’s not exactly long.”

“But... Are you sure?”

“Why not? I don’t see a problem.”

I cautiously took the book from him. It was as thin as it looked. The binding might have been thicker than the number of pages inside. There was a mysterious feeling to it. Not only that, but I also felt a sort of tenacity or maybe a deep-seated grudge in this book.

“How many people have read this?”

“Dunno. Probably only me. It was shoved way in the back of the bookcase when I found it. I doubt anyone even knows it exists.”

This book was Mizuto’s origin, and it was something that Mineaki-ojisan, Natsume-san, and of course Madoka-san had never read. Suddenly, I felt fear wash over me. Is it really okay that I’m the one he’s letting read this? Higashira-san’s face flashed in the back of my mind. Maybe she was supposed to be the one here reading this, not me. It felt all too natural...

“I’m gonna go take my bath.” Mizuto stood up and began heading out. “Whether you read it or not is up to you, but either way, just leave it there when you’re done.” Then he walked off through the creaky hallways, the sound becoming more and more distant.

I sat in that cavern of old books with a one-of-a-kind novel. Maybe there should’ve been someone else sitting where I was, but I was the one here now. I looked at the title again and remembered Mizuto handing it to me. I needed to take three breaths before opening the book.

“The closer the end of my life is, the more I find myself reflecting on the past. I have lived a life filled with shame and regret. But there are no memories that cause my heart as much pain as the ones from Siberia, far away.”

“My love for my wife is no weaker than it has always been. None of what I feel for her is a lie; however, the time I spent with her in that land burns as bright as the stars in the sky. Oh, Siberia. My unter den linden.”

“As Ota Toyotaro did, so shall I write this to serve as a record of her. This will be the last piece of literature in my life; it is my repentance.”

That’s how The Siberian Dancing Girl began. Toyotaro Ota must have been a reference to the main character of the same name in Ogai Mori’s short story, The Dancing Girl. During his study abroad trip, he meets a girl named Elise, and they fall in love. In the end, he betrays her in order to protect her family name and his way of life. He’s probably the main character most hated by girls in Modern Japanese textbooks.

Seeing himself in Toyotaro’s character, Kosuke-san wrote about his similar experiences. He’d had great support in his life and was walking the path of an elite. He’d even gotten close with the fiancée that his parents had chosen for him. However, he had no choice but to obey the conscription order sent to him. So he became a soldier and left his homeland.

The way he wrote his life story was by no means inferior to professional authors. He was sent to the front lines of Manchuria. There, he saw the end of the war. They received orders to surrender to Russia. He and the rest of the soldiers rejoiced that they would be able to return home and see their families and loved ones.

“The Russian soldiers screamed ‘Tokyo Damoi!’ My allies were confused at first, but I happily explained that ‘damoi’ is Russian for ‘go home.’ We could go home. We were excited to return to our home in the east, so we began to load our things onto the freight train. We realized too late that we were being taken west, not east.”

The soldiers who had longed to see their homeland were sent to an internment camp in the frigid tundra. All they received was a piece of rye bread and soup that was essentially just salty water. On top of all of that, they were forced to do extremely physically taxing labor.

Kosuke was fortunate that he knew Russian. They tasked him with interpretation duties and spared him from manual labor. He also was able to eat better than the others. But being the person whose job was to pass on Soviet messages to the Japanese soldiers earned him the ire of others, and Soviet Russia was a very heavily monitored society, so the very fact he could speak Russian put him under suspicion of being a spy.

Reading his story, I could vividly see the harsh, cold internment camp in Siberia. It felt like I was spectating someone’s life, and that I was being dragged deeper and deeper into Kosuke Tanesato’s memories and emotions.

“My love for literature was not destroyed by this foreign land. My books may have been confiscated, but they lived on inside me. As long as I remember them, I am enriched by their bountiful stories and nostalgic words.”

“By doing so, perhaps if I ever come across someone similar to me, we may be able to share discussion. I’ve discovered that both my countrymen and foreigners alike have a love for literature. The great Dostoevsky has truly connected the hearts of humanity.”

It was like embers in the midst of a blizzard. His small glimmer of joy within the horrible conditions. But there was nothing in his life that shone brighter than the eponymous Siberian dancing girl. Her name was Elena. She was the daughter of a Russian officer who had a love for literature.

He became her personal tutor and taught her Japanese. As he taught her, their hearts grew closer, especially as she was a student of literature, like her father. Somehow, I saw Mizuto and myself in them. Maybe it was the calm before the storm. The knowledge that they were going to break up. It was obvious from the beginning since he had a fiancée in Japan.

“There are many fellow literature lovers who would condemn Toyotaro Ota from ‘The Dancing Girl’ for his spineless actions. His entire life he’d been on a track that others had set for him. It was only when in a foreign country that he fell in love and walked his own path for the first time in his life.”

“Ultimately, he did not possess the courage to permanently stray from the track laid for him. He clung to the helping hand of his friend and allowed Elise’s mental condition to fall into disrepair. Many lambast him for being a weak-willed individual who was not a ‘true man’ when he failed to protect her.”

“However, I felt great affinity and kinship for his way of life. Every time I exchanged words with Elena and saw her smile, I saw the strict face of my father in the back of my mind. His words repeated in my head. ‘Make your family wealthy. Strengthen your country.’ I’d never doubted those words.”

“No matter how close I became with Elena, I could not imagine a future in which I betrayed my father to live the rest of my days here with her. If the time came for me to depart, I could not imagine leaving my beloved in the same wretched state that Toyotaro had left his.”

Time passed in the story, and Kosuke-san began a new fight against a democratic movement in the internment camp. It was democratic merely in name; in actuality, it was a Soviet brainwashing ploy to instill communist ideology in the prisoners. Since his old friends opposed this, Kosuke-san had no choice but to support them.

Kosuke-san’s friends were put to even harsher work and harassed inside the camp. They were fatigued, starved, cold, and mentally broken.

“I couldn’t save them, even though they’d saved me on many occasions. Even so, they never gave in. The image of their distant homeland was clear in their eyes.”

This part of the book was all over the place, like it was depicting his own conflicted state of mind. But finally, after three years in Siberia, there seemed to be a chance to return to Japan.

Kosuke had become close with Elena and her father, and they recommended that he stay in Russia. They promised him a job and proposed that he marry Elena. Kosuke made the choice exactly as he’d imagined he would.

He didn’t have the courage to throw away his country for a fleeting romance. He couldn’t forget his family, country, or fiancée. Hearing this, Elena-san gave him a gentle smile.

“‘I pray that you find happiness,’ she said in the very Japanese that I’d taught her.”

While turning his back on her, he made sure that his heart remembered these words.

“You may laugh at me as a spineless coward. You may claim I am not a true Japanese man. Even so, I will write my true memories. How I wish you’d stopped me.”

That was how the book ended. I stared at the last page for a little. Then I heard a drop of water fall onto the aged page.

“Oh...” I quickly wiped my eyes. When was the last time that a book made me cry?

Maybe it was because it was a true story or because it was Mizuto’s—our great-grandfather’s story. Was it okay for an old book like this to get a little wet? I knew I needed to hurry up and wipe it, but that’s when I saw another stain from a tear.

This was the printed copy of the written manuscript that Kosuke Tanesato had submitted, meaning that the tear left in this book wasn’t from the writer, but the reader. Immediately, I imagined something. In a dark, dusty study, there sat a young boy crying over this book. I’d never seen him cry after reading something. Even so, I could see it as clearly as if I had been there.

The chattering of the adults felt so distant as I sat in this dimly lit room. It was as if this study was isolated from the world. It was as if I’d been isolated from the world. Oh... He’s lived in this world his entire life.

“You’re still here?” The moonlight cast a long shadow into the room. “You should at least shut the door. It still gets cold in the summer.” Mizuto scoffed, effortlessly navigating the study. As he came closer, his eyes twitched upon seeing The Siberian Dancing Girl. “Wait, did you finish the entire book?”

I slowly nodded.

“Oh...” He let out a sigh before shutting his mouth.

Silence filled the room, leaving just the stagnant smell of the old books. There was no sound. My head was filled with thoughts of the young boy in this room in the past and the one in here now. Maybe that’s why I ended up asking him something I never could have before.

“Have... Have you ever written a book?”

“Huh?” Mizuto was confused by my words, but I continued speaking.

“I have. When I was in elementary school, I wrote a mystery novel that was basically an Agatha Christie rip-off. It was horrible. The sentences didn’t flow at all, the story, gimmicks—I took all of it from what I’d read. Even so, it’s filled with the things that I loved. It’s filled with ‘me.’”

That’s why I never got rid of it. Even when we moved, I made sure that I didn’t lose it no matter how embarrassing it would’ve been if someone found it. I may have not wanted to read it again, but I couldn’t bring myself to throw it away.

“Mizuto.” His eyes flung open at this. “I want to read the book you wrote.” Mizuto gaped at me before unsteadily exhaling.

“You... You just called me by my name without an honorific.”

“We’re siblings. There’s nothing weird about it.” I giggled.

Until now, I’d only called him that in my head. I’d always called him “Mizuto-kun” when we were in front of our parents, but I wanted to call him just “Mizuto” now. I wanted to call him that over and over. I don’t want you to disappear from my side. I don’t want to disappear from your side. This way, we’ll stop each other.

“Let me read it, Mizuto. I’ll let you read mine.”

“Maybe... Someday.” He looked away to hide his embarrassment.

“I’ll wait as long as you want.” After all, I’m sure we’ll be siblings until death does us part.