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I rarely have time alone with Ayato.
Our houses are on opposite sides of the city, yet my unthinking footsteps bring me to his front porch. Like today.
Um, I'd like to think that I've made a little progress? Maybe? Is that too optimistic?
The first time I came here, I wanted to walk with him to school, but I couldn't bring myself to ring the doorbell. Calling him would only make me more nervous, his voice too close, and texting him seemed unreliable. I wouldn't know when he'd see my message. Berating myself for being creepy, I chose the cowardly route, turning towards the train station. That's when the door opened.
As if to signal that he was about to shout, Ayato's older brother moved his hand to his mouth as he turned his back to me. A sudden and simultaneous motion.
"Ayato! Your friend's here!"
The contrast between his quiet greeting and his loud call was startling. As always, I couldn't say anything. Hardly hearing the thumps of the stairs over my heartbeat, I was happy.
"Five minutes! I'll be back in five minutes!"
Running down and running up. It's one of the many reasons why I like him. He dislikes waiting for people and people waiting for him, so he treats time as an important thing. Carelessly considerate, endlessly compassionate, slightly contradictory.
Ayato isn't the type who's popular with girls, but the ones who are looking—truly looking—their eyes linger.
Not only girls.
He and his older brother are very similar. Their parents too. I've seen the family photos from his phone. His mom has dark hair, cut to the same length as Ayato's. His father also has dark hair and two moles: one underneath his eye, one underneath his mouth. The sons evenly split the moles between them. They all look incredibly alike.
"Yanagi-kun, you should come inside. It's hot today."
"Thank you, sorry about that."
"Don't mind it, see ya."
During that brief exchange, I learned that their resemblance extended beyond their physical appearance.
He often says that his older brother is an idiot with a terrible attitude, pissing people off, a useless adult with no redeeming qualities whatsoever. Actually, he's a nice and ordinary twenty-year-old. I felt nervous while talking to him, but his mild-mannered aura put me at ease. I believe Ayato's bias is partially because he has a low self-assessment. Whenever I mention his good qualities, he is both smug and skeptical. A strange combination like bubbly yogurt soda straight from the cooler, cold and refreshing. An acquired taste. I came to like it little by little.
Gradually, I tested the words that would add a spring to his step. Stuttering them out slowly. Impatient as he is, Ayato never seems to mind my mumbling. When I trip on my tongue, he waits in silence. His eyes are lively, as if he's running an inner commentary, but it's never malicious. He simply thinks a lot. In conversation, he dips into topics shallowly, experimentally, changing his trajectory at a whim. It's all I can do to keep up with him. He's clever and witty, talking a mile a minute, making snap-judgments in a moment. An overflow of information, thoroughly annotated with anecdotes. Always making me laugh.
Sometimes, he's too harsh on himself, but he says it in such a funny way, I laugh without realizing, and then I'm horrified by myself. He never minds it though.
During the school cultural festival, he said that hygiene management for food will be difficult. I didn't think of that. It left a deep impression on me. Ayato's particular about food, but also generous. Bringing cherries to school for everybody to eat. When we eat together at restaurants, he enjoys sushi so much that it tastes more delicious with his appreciation.
He can distinguish between flavors blindfolded. This one, sea bream. That one, yellowtail. Saltwater eel, freshwater eel. He likes salmon roe and olive flounder, but dislikes spicy sea urchin sashimi, because one time his stingy brother bought it for him, forcing him to eat it all. His chopsticks avoid the wasabi, soy sauce, and pickled red ginger. In Ayato's opinion, the subtle flavors of seafood are diluted by sauces. He has a cultured tongue.
A sharp tongue. At times, he's at a loss for words, but when he gets going, he can unleash a thousand tsukkomi through tone alone. His facial expressions flicker in an instant. When he lies, he looks away and whistles, innocently and mockingly. He cares for his cat Miiko, unwilling to use bug spray despite his disgust for cockroaches.
"Ah, it's no use! The Toujou family has never seen a cockroach. He doesn't recognize it as an enemy!"
Even when he's scared, he maintains his sense of humor. I had to fight the irresistible urge to laugh, focusing on insect removal. Originally, I wasn't good with bugs, but compared to my older sister, an army of bugs is nothing.
I was a little grateful that I could show a cool side to Ayato, Toujou and Misato.
"It was alive, but all you needed was a single sheet to take care of it."
I wanted to tell him that I was willing to take care of as many bugs as he wanted, so long as he'd let me take care of him.
How embarrassing. I don't want to become an existence like an unsightly cockroach. I don't want to be hated by Ayato.
Instead, I said something about my older sister. I don't remember what it was. He's always talking about his older brother. Wanting to have something in common with him, I mention her a lot more than I would normally, which has helped me fear her less. With Ayato, I become a better and braver person.
I love him, I love him, I love him.
I have the deep desire to be seen, and Ayato, he has the deep desire to see.
He doesn't look at me like how I look at him. Surprisingly, I'm okay with that. Some days. Other days, it's all I do, not reaching out for him, desperate for the smallest exchanges. Hi, hello. Idle conversations about online games. Toujou prefers mahjong; Misato prefers sports. It's our shared hobby. Only between us.
Back in middle school, I started playing online games because of Ayato.
Neptune-blue eyes would trace his light, caught in his orbit. Toujou. Who else could it be? A fairytale prince from my older sister's childhood stories, when she pretended to be an evil queen and I, her fearful minion, serving stuffed animals at her tea parties.
The girls say that Toujou has the face of "first love." I agree, but the reason is different. His first love is Ayato. I'm sure of it, because I'm the same.
Ayato will meet your gaze, even though he doesn't know what effect that has on people. On Toujou, on Misato, on me.
He doesn't understand how much others ache to be taken apart by his analytical eye, put back together again, less than perfect, more than a sum of our parts. His attention isn't special. He does it all the time. Unconsciously commenting on the unconscious habits of Satou, Tanaka, Katou and Sasaki. Somehow, he's oblivious to the attention of others. That blind spot is... Well.
When you are watched so closely, you can't help but watch back, helplessly falling.
That's the kind of person that Ayato is.
Pressing the doorbell with half of my heart in my throat, pushing the other half in his hands. Probably, I am a half-hearted person.
I love him, but more than that, I'm afraid of losing him.
Unable to hold on, unable to let go. Unbearable and suffocating.
Our friendship is incredibly precious to me. Everything we do is fun when it's with Ayato.
Not brave like Toujou, not bold like Misato. In terms of height, I'm at a disadvantage. He's the class president; he's the childhood friend. What am I? A classmate. Seat #8, Seat #11, Seat #13, Seat #33. Me, Toujou, Ayato, Misato. If I take the 1 from Toujou's 11, and the 3 from Misato's 33, then I have Ayato's 13.
The door opens, but it's his older brother again.
I try not to show my disappointment. It'd be rude, though I think he wouldn't mind. From what I've heard, he never gets angry at anybody.
I don't understand why it's a bad thing, but the Ayato that gets angry about everyday interactions is also cute. He forgives major things easily, but he holds grudges over minor things. Though he's a guy, he's sincerely cute. Because of him, I finally understand the girls who say that word has no gender. There are so many ways to describe Ayato, and his coolness makes his cuteness stand out more.
"Uh, ehm.... Is Ayato home?"
I forgot to say hello. If my older sister was here, she'd slap the back of my head for not treating my elders with respect. She does that, but she occasionally forgets it too. Hypocrite. Not that I'll ever tell her that.
"Ahh... Ayato went out with Toujou-kun this morning."
"Eh...? I... I see..."
Behind his shoulder, Ayato's mom pops out of nowhere. Woah, woah, is she an assassin?!
"Hello, Yanagi-kun. Why don't you come inside? I've been organizing old photo albums. They're heavier than I remember them being. Is it because of my middle age? Anyway, come in, come in. I'll cut you some fruit. Young boys need to stay hydrated."
I'm ushered inside. His mom is so nice, and I'm a little interested in those photos. Nervously, I bow before her. "Thank you. Sorry for the intrusion." Would it be weird if I asked about Ayato's baby pictures? "Um, if you want help with lifting them, maybe I could... An extra pair of hands wouldn't hurt, maybe?" Unintentionally, I ended it like a question. So uncool.
"Call me Auntie." She turns to her son, who quietly towers over her. She's shorter than me. "Why can't you be more like Yanagi-kun? He's so sweet and boyishly charming. All you do is drink, play darts, and drive to places without your brother. Ayato's been lonely."
She lightly slaps his shoulder. It's graceful. My older sister could pick up tips from her.
"Ow ow ow." He pretends to be more hurt than he really is, earning a smile from his mom. Is this how they express love? I'm envious. "I'll take Ayato to the aquarium. Though he'll probably want to eat the fish instead of watching them."
"Hmm." Chopping pears on the cutting board, she doesn't deny it. "I've been thinking about this for a while, but doesn't Yanagi-kun remind you of a younger Ayato? Now all he does is stew and sulk and skulk. I miss the times when I heard Nii-chan, Nii-chan all around the house. You know, the only time he'd call Kaa-chan and Tou-chan is to say, 'Where's Nii-chan?' and 'Nii-chan did something stupid, but I forgive him!' and—"
"Alright, alright, you don't need to dig up Ayato's dark history anymore." He holds out a hand, the universal sign for stop. "Why are you the one who's blushing? I'll go readjust the air conditioner." He turns the corner and leaves my line of sight.
"Because! I have! Secondhand embarrassment!" The pear slices clatter on the plate, already peeled, glistening in the light. Toothpicks are set to the side. "Yanagi-kun, please eat."
Again, I bow. "Thank you very much, Auntie!" Oh no, that was too loud. My hands are trembling from nervousness.
"You're welcome, dear."
"If you have secondhand embarrassment, the solution is simple." A blast of cold air hits my chest. I haven't noticed, but I'm sweating, so the artificial breeze feels good on my skin. "Don't torture yourself. Ayato will blame me, and his tantrums are troublesome. I'd like to keep them to a bare minimum." Like her, his steps are soft as fog after autumn rain.
Silently moving is something that Ayato doesn't do. Ah, it's not that he's loud! Maybe it's because I'm aware of him, so I pay attention.
The way he gulps when he's speechless, such as when Misato said he could kiss the Vice Principal. Ayato's dry, clever way of saying "Where's the studio?" when Misato claimed he could kiss an old man's ass if he had a private studio. The way he gets upset when Miiko runs into the garden when he tries to pet its head.
It's the first time I'm in Ayato's house without Ayato.
"As his mother, I have the right to embarrass him in front of his friends."
"But in the end, you're the one who receives the most emotional damage."
"It's. My. Right."
"Then I won't stop you."
Disappearing into a corridor, she says, "Your father said that you're the man of the house, so entertain Yanagi-kun while I'm gone, will you? I won't be long. One, no, three minutes." A disembodied hand holds up four fingers. "Four and a half minutes."
"Round it up to five!" He turns to me, and I guiltily freeze with a pear slice in my mouth. His face is utterly unreadable. "If you have somewhere to be, now's your window of opportunity to escape. Otherwise, she'll show you every family member, even our cousins, and quiz you on who's who. It's too difficult. We all look the same, and there's no prize if you win."
"Can you tell them apart?" I ask curiously, not budging a centimeter. I really, really want to see Ayato's childhood pictures. There's no downside for me. Also, isn't it impolite to leave? I don't have anything important today.
"Of course." His eyes sharpen, but the corners around them slacken. A sense of scolding, not directed at me. Directed at somebody else. "They're family."
I'm struck with the sudden urge to call him my brother-in-law. What the heck? Ayato doesn't like me like that.
"Um, I wish I could temporarily trade my older sister with Ayato's older brother." Accidentally, I blurt out my true feelings. "Not that I don't love her, but uhh, sometimes it's hard to like her. She's scary."
"Hmm," is his only reply.
"A while ago, I was planning to visit a dinosaur museum to see their T-Rex animatronic. But she made me buy luxury Lindt chocolate for her, threatening to twist my legs and throw me into the compost pile. I didn't get to go..."
What am I doing, complaining like this?!
"Can you marry my older sister? If it's you... m-maybe you can be a calming influence on her... or something like that..!"
He raises an eyebrow at me. "If she's as scary as you say, I don't think she'd appreciate her younger brother matchmaking her to strangers. I'm not opposed to meeting her if she's willing, but marriage is too fast. Slow down, Yanagi-kun. Take a deep breath."
I do as he says. Deep breath, deep breath... He's really a calming influence.
Ayato says that he's a deadweight burden, lazier than a sloth, the lowest form of existence, but he's more like a ship anchor of stability.
Moreover, he answered with a cool, logical poise of an adult. He isn't flustered in the slightest.
It's said that his older brother is too apathetic to attract a girlfriend, and he's a loser with zero romantic experience, but it doesn't look like it? He seems to be an intensely private person. Treating others equally, unlike Ayato, who makes his like and dislike clear as crystal. Um, that's just my impression! It might be wrong.
He gives off the same vibes as Toujou. Having the wisdom of a grandfather with ages of life experience, stories unspooling like a loose thread. They have that aloof air about them. Untouchable yet approachable.
If Ayato is the one who sees people, then his older brother is the one who sees through people.
To be honest, it's a little bit unnerving to be alone with him.
We don't know each other well, so... how do I put it... my mind is emptier than... something really empty... I can't come up with a proper analogy... uhhh... a river in drought....
Ah, I bit my tongue. A small amount of blood trickles down my chin. How embarrassing. An old childhood habit reappeared. Tissue, tissue! In my panic, I wave my hands aimlessly, as if I'm drowning in the imaginary river, overflowing with water.
"Here." He holds out a tissue pack advertising a cat café. "You might have an unexpected talent for acting."
"Uhh..." I think I get what he means. The appearance of blood is like the drama I was watching before my older sister changed it to criminal shows. Is that it? Gratefully, I take the tissues. "Thank you! I'm sorry for causing a mess in your home...!"
"Fake blood capsules would be less painful than inadvertently hurting yourself."
In a casual gesture, he brings his fist to his face, loosely curled, the knuckle of his index finger hovering near his lips. A familiar sight on an unfamiliar man. That's the thinking pose of Ayato. Mentally, I picture them together and bite back a chuckle, careful not to bite my tongue again. Mirror images. No matter what angle you look at, they're brothers after all.
"From the outside, it might look like I'm bullying my younger brother's friend. Don't apologize for something you haven't done." Almost as if it's an afterthought, he adds, "I don't want to build a strange reputation."
Phrasing it as self-serving, not as patronizing advice. It's so high-level. His social skills are through the roof. Protecting my pride.
This is probably why Ayato has an older brother complex.
Sorry.... You already have a strange reputation at our high school...
The body of a chicken carcass, the eyes of a beached squid, and the ambition of a salted sardine. Is Ayato's older brother a chimera? A mystical, undocumented beast? These are common questions that haunt the high school rumor mill.
With the way Ayato talks about him, he feels like the hidden boss of a video game. The type that drops either ultra-rare loot or low-grade trash. It might not be that far from the truth.
Onii-san, are you his portable wallet?
Their mom returns triumphant with a tower of photo albums. They wobble like Ayato's limited-edition lavender honey pudding. Leaping up from my seat, I'm too late to help her.
His older brother has beat me to the punch, balancing the stack with a steady hand.
"Is this really necessary? Just include the ones with Ayato's photos. He doesn't need a full primer on our family tree."
"If you're going to help, use both hands and hug it from behind."
"....You read too much shoujo manga."
"No, I read mahou shoujo manga. There's a key difference." She sneezes from the dust. Holding her head up high as if nothing happened, she says, "The volumes came with a miniature electric fan, two batteries, and complimentary LINE stickers. Naturally, I bought the entire series."
"Are you being paid to advertise them?"
Ignoring his retort, she cracks open a photo album. I tentatively approach her.
"Do you want the fan? The magical animal mascot resembles Miiko. Of course, it can't compare to our cat's cuteness, but it comes close."
"Don't foist your interests upon me." He checks his phone. "It's about time to leave. I'm going to a botanical garden with my friends, not a bar, so don't look at me like that."
"Is that so." Shooting him a skeptical look, she slaps the chair in the same way she had slapped his arm. "Don't snip the catnip. I'm warning you to not commit a theft."
"That only happened once. I was five years old. Some insensitivity is expected at that age." Already halfway out the door, he calls, "Bye!"
I wave at his retreating back. So cool. I wonder if I can be like him when I'm older.
Still, he didn't confirm nor deny his future ownership of the electric fan.
Afterwards, Ayato's mom went to the bathroom to remove her contact lenses.
"Auntie, if you don't mind me asking, why do you wear them?"
"I forgot to take them out," she explains. "Sometimes, my old classmates invite me to their drinking parties. It's impolite to refuse them, so I wear contacts when I'm shopping outside. They can't recognize me then."
"O-oh, I see..." Adults have it rough, huh. I hope that Ayato, Toujou, Misato and I will never become so distant. It seems a little lonely.
"The reason why I became a housewife is because of my low alcohol tolerance."
Suddenly started talking?! This aspect of her is also like Ayato.
"As an office lady, I wasn't allowed to refuse social engagements." She sighs. "At my previous workplace, no matter how plain you were, if you were a woman, it was rude to not drink with your superiors. My male coworkers also suffered, drinking on the behalf of the women to protect them. Of course, not all of them had good intentions."
Workplace harassment is despicable! Underneath the table, I clench my fists furiously.
"That's why I'm relieved that my firstborn son inherited my husband's strong alcohol tolerance. Ayato, though... he got unlucky. He can get drunk even from the smell."
My mind flashes back to Valentine's Day, when we ate those dangerous whiskey bonbons.
Sorry, Ayato's older brother! Erm, I'll definitely make it up to you! Sorry!
"Enough of that. Did you know that when Ayato was younger, his older brother's nickname for him was Ayatori, named after cat's cradle, because he loves cats so much... Let me show you pictures of them playing with string together..."
Peacefully, I listen to her tell childhood stories for hours.