A year passed, bringing many changes to people’s lives.
For instance, Hatano, the university student who aspired to be a writer, could now drop the ‘aspiring’ from that title. The writer Shijima had won a prestigious literary award bearing the name of a great master, and the watercolor painter Rokai had transformed into a figure whose name was recognized even by those unfamiliar with art.
The world would likely call these significant changes. Indeed, for those involved, they were turning points in their lives. But near them existed a small, very small change that captured the attention of those very individuals. Compared to the ones listed, it was a far more trivial and minor change; the world’s evaluation of them remained unaltered, and there was no public who knew their name.
Even so, it was a definite change.
—Shinomiya had taken the entrance exam for Tokyo University of the Arts.
“It should be announced soon.”
Several months had passed since they started living together, prompted by Hatano’s professional debut. On the sofa in the living room, a space they had set up as a shared area distinct from her atelier or Hatano’s writing room—Hatano murmured this to Shinomiya, who sat pale, sweating cold sweat, wearing a tense expression as she stared into space.
At this hour, the gentle heating neutralized the morning’s sharp chill. No words were spoken.
Shinomiya, who had let her hair grow a little longer over the past year, clasped her hands on her lap and bowed her head as if in prayer. It was the first time Hatano had seen her this nervous, but it was understandable given the fifteen-to-one odds of this notoriously difficult exam. Moreover, it was a dream she was trying to grasp concerning something she had once turned her back on. Hatano considered trying to dispel her anxiety but decided to let her savor this tension since it was almost over. Still…
Hatano thought of the countless paintings and stacks of sketchbooks that had cluttered her atelier. People wish for those who work hard to be rewarded and envy those who succeed without effort. Some might deny her passing, given the years she spent turning away from painting and living aimlessly. But those works etched into her atelier were the blood and vomit she had expelled. Someone like him, who could see that, was surely allowed to cheer for her.
“It’ll be okay,” Hatano whispered softly.
Words like ‘You’ll definitely pass’ would probably be a burden. This wasn’t that kind of sweet world. So, if he were to say anything, it would be something like ‘Even if you fail, you won’t die,’ but he didn’t think such words would encourage her, so Hatano remained silent.
With the habit ingrained over the last thirty minutes, he refreshed the page for the University of Arts’ results announcement.
Then, the familiar screen changed to an unfamiliar one. “Ah,” Hatano let out.
“It’s here.”
At his murmur, Shinomiya flinched, her shoulders trembling. She looked up at Hatano with wavering eyes, met his gaze for a moment as if steeling herself, then tried to operate her smartphone with trembling fingers. Seeing her unsteady movements, Hatano offered her his own smartphone with a wry smile.
“S-sorry.”
Apologizing, she took it and looked at the section for the faculty she had applied to on the page labeled ‘Results Announcement.’ Staring at the PDF link marked ‘Results Announcement,’ she held her breath. She bit her lip, released it, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. After a long exhale, she opened her eyes as if resolved and encouraged herself, “I did what I could do!” Startled by the sudden loud voice, Hatano’s eyes widened, but after a moment, he chuckled back with an “Oh.” Shinomiya smiled as if some of the tension had eased.
Without hesitation, she tapped the link, and the smartphone opened the PDF.
Instantly, the screen filled with a list of the final successful applicants’ exam numbers. Peering over, Hatano also felt dizzy from the sheer volume of information. Collecting himself, he squinted, thinking that behind each of these numbers was probably blood, vomit, and anguish, and began searching for Shinomiya’s number from the Japanese Painting section of the Faculty of Fine Arts.
His heartbeat quickened slightly as he followed the numbers from the top. Eight, one, two, three—no, no, no. A string of numbers different from Shinomiya’s made his palms sweat. But, since there was someone more nervous and anxious than him, what good was his own tension? Hatano clenched his fist, suppressing his nerves.
Continuing to scan the numbers from the top, Hatano suddenly felt he saw a familiar sequence and stopped his gaze. He returned his eyes to the number he had skimmed over in his nervousness and checked it against the exam number placed on the table. Eight, one, two—
“Ah.”
“Huh?”
Their voices overlapped. They unintentionally looked at each other, then together checked the screen once more.
No matter how many times they checked, there was no mistake; the number didn’t change. So, what did this mean? Having devoted too much of his brain’s resources to verifying the number, Hatano even forgot why he was checking it. After a moment, he remembered. Right, the University of Arts results. And if the number was here, that meant…
“—P-passed! Shinomiya!”
Hatano looked at Shinomiya. However, she was looking back at him with a dumbfounded expression, as if to say she couldn’t quite believe it. No trace of joy was visible. Surprised by the disparity in their emotions, Hatano unconsciously furrowed his brows and asked.
“You passed… but what’s wrong? Did you forget your number?”
Worried, Hatano moved to show her the number on the table. But she refused it with terrifying calmness, as if her earlier tension had been a lie. “Ah, no, I know the number.” Then she let out something like a sigh, though she was trembling slightly.
“I know the number, and I understand I passed. It’s just…”
“Yeah?”
“It’s just… Huh? Wait? I passed?”
Shinomiya, breaking into a cold sweat, asked with a stiff smile, having seemingly forgotten her own words from seconds ago. Seeing her clearly not in a normal state, Hatano hurriedly grabbed her shoulders and shook her.
“A-are you okay! Snap out of it!”
“S-snap out of it!? What does that mean!?”
For over ten seconds, the two of them, in mutual confusion, sought an answer to this philosophical question. Finally, a sense of reality seemed to dawn on Shinomiya, and she focused on Hatano, who was more flustered than she was. For a while, they stared at each other in silence. Then, after confirming one last time that it wasn’t a mistake, Shinomiya murmured.
“I… passed, right?”
Unsteady feet, trembling breath and throat, wavering eyes. To ground that body, which seemed to float unsteadily somewhere detached from reality, and bring it crashing down to earth, Hatano looked straight into her eyes. He knew that feeling—it was the same as when he received the news of his award.
“Congratulations.”
The reality would probably sink in after those words. As Hatano looked straight at her and conveyed them, Shinomiya took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and exhaled.
Slumping against the back of the sofa as if all strength had left her, Shinomiya covered her face with her hands and spoke.
“For years… I didn’t even touch a brush, and yet I just barely scraped by and passed after only one year of hard work. But everyone around me will look at me the same way they look at those who took the exam twice. The pass rate for first-time applicants at the University of Arts is pretty low, which means those who took it twice had that much more time to polish their skills. When compared, all my weaknesses and flaws will be highlighted…”
Muttering the words that surfaced from the whirlpool of her thoughts, Shinomiya. She used to talk about how to appear attractive, but lately, in front of Hatano, she had increasingly immersed herself in her own world like this, spinning words. But Hatano was happy about that.
“My sister—’Rokai’—is successful without even going to art school. There’s a world of difference between someone still learning and someone who has already achieved results. I’m sure there are people who know about my relationship with my sister, and if that’s the case, we’ll be compared someday.”
Suddenly, she compared herself to her sister. Compared to such a grand goal, she hated her own insignificance. Hatano was about to open his mouth to say she should stop such decadent thoughts, at least for today, but Shinomiya suddenly straightened her back and looked at Hatano with a powerful gaze.
“—Passing is the starting line for going one step beyond ‘Rokai’.”
Yes, in her who declared this so clearly, none of the weakness from a year ago was visible. That was somewhat lonely, but at the same time, it made him happy. The weak, fearful her from back then was gone; before him was an artist pursuing her own dream. And in that figure, he could see his former self.
No matter how much of an unpopular writer he might be, he was a professional. In contrast, she was a student. Though their fields differed, he was still her senior in the world of art. After thinking this, Hatano judged that mere praise was unnecessary for her now and grinned.
“…Cheeky.”
“My prep school teacher told me that too.”
Shinomiya replied with a fearless smile.
It seemed she had been blessed with a teacher of considerable discernment, which was probably why she managed to pass safely. Hatano felt grateful to the teacher who had seen Shinomiya’s potential. At the same time, he praised Shinomiya’s efforts in his heart. She had dropped out of university, attended a prep school, received design freelance work through a connection of a prep school teacher who recognized her color sense, earned the bare minimum to cover her own expenses, and cut back on sleep.
For that effort, Hatano decided to allow her cheekiness.
“Sushi, meat, pizza. Which do you want?”
“—Sushi!”
At her energetic reply, Hatano smiled back.
It was decided they would hold a celebration at home, inviting mutual acquaintances and friends. However, having not properly built any interpersonal relationships over the past year, Shinomiya had no one she could invite, so that matter was left entirely to Hatano. While Shinomiya ordered sushi delivery, Hatano searched through his sparse contacts for mutual acquaintances and sounded them out.
Within minutes, he received immediate confirmations of attendance from three people.
Seeing Hatano’s satisfied expression, Shinomiya asked.
“Who did you invite?”
“Well now. Let’s keep that a surprise until they arrive.”
At Hatano’s meaningful smile, she tilted her head in puzzlement.
And so, while they were rearranging and tidying the room this way and that to welcome guests, noon arrived in no time. Just as he thought the invited guests might be arriving soon, as if waiting for that moment, the room’s intercom rang.
Hatano, who had been sitting on the sofa waiting for the guests with the already-delivered sushi in front of him, stood up at the sound. He gestured with his hand to stop Shinomiya, who had also stood up to go greet them. “I’ll get it,” he urged the main guest to stay seated and wait.
Of the three, he had asked one particular person to come a little earlier.
He hoped they weren’t late. Thinking this, Hatano checked the peephole, relaxed his cheeks upon seeing the person on the other side had indeed arrived on time, and unlocked the door.
The person bowed with a tense expression, stepped inside, and swallowed hard while looking at the door leading to the living room. Even this monster showed such an expression, so family bonds must run that deep, Hatano thought with a smile. He indicated the inside with his chin and led the guest back to the living room.
“Ah, welco—”
Returning, Shinomiya stood up to welcome the guest. However, upon seeing the person who entered after Hatano with a tense expression, her eyes widened, and she was left speechless.
“…Sis.”
Jet-black, lustrous hair like the night sky and features strikingly similar to Shinomiya’s.
The person Hatano had invited, timing her arrival separately from the other two, was her biological older sister, Rokai.
In response to Shinomiya’s shocked, dazed murmur, Rokai returned a gaze with terribly stiff features and wavering eyes.
“I… I’m intruding.”
For several seconds, silence fell over the room. The sound of swallowed breaths was audible.
However, Hatano, who had brought the two together, did not intervene to break that silence. The time he had spent with both Shinomiya and Rokai until now was what would mend their relationship. From here on, he thought while quietly observing, the two should move closer on their own.
Shinomiya, who for years had effectively been estranged from her family and hadn’t even been in contact, seemed at a loss for how to handle this sudden encounter and looked at Hatano with eyes pleading for help. Simultaneously, Rokai also looked at him with eyes seeking an opening for conversation, but Hatano took out his smartphone with an innocent face and let out an intentionally conspicuous “Ah.”
“The other two seem to be lost, so I’ll go guide them. You two chat casually.”
“Eh, no—! Wait!”
At Hatano’s feigned oblivious remark, Rokai’s expression changed as she let out a voice that seemed to cling to him, and Shinomiya, breaking into a cold sweat, tried to escape with, “I’ll go!” But Hatano wouldn’t nod to that. They were sisters who indeed once had conflict, but what kept them apart now was merely the residue of that. It should be fine now.
Hatano floated a mischievous smile, lightly waved his hand, and left the room, ignoring the protests of the two.
“The guest of honor should stay seated and wait. Well then, I’m off.”
No sooner had he said this than Hatano left the room without further exchange.
Left behind, Shinomiya and Rokai stared in silence at the door through which she had left, then turned to face each other as if by mutual agreement. “Ah,” “Um,” their words overlapped, and they both fell silent simultaneously, as if yielding to each other. After another few seconds of silence, Rokai, looking around the room restlessly, spoke.
“C-congratulations… on passing.”
Flustered that she had initiated the conversation, Shinomiya swallowed hard before replying.
“Ah, y-yeah… thank you.”
Rokai congratulated Shinomiya’s success with cautious, polite gestures and tone, but Shinomiya harbored a doubt: the Rokai of the past would have spoken to her more friendly. However, without needing to think, Shinomiya sensed that this formality stemmed from the several years they had spent apart, living like strangers. She looked at Rokai with an indescribable emotion and expression. Rokai was terribly nervous, and Shinomiya felt like she was seeing her like this for the first time.
She didn’t dislike her. She was someone who had always been on her side, from the past until now; if anything, she felt favorably towards her. Even today, she had rushed over immediately after just being contacted and was here congratulating her.
But for Shinomiya, she was the symbol of her complex. Born with everything Shinomiya lacked, raised receiving all the family’s attention and affection, and yet, aside from Hatano, she had been kinder to Shinomiya and loved her more than anyone else. Shinomiya didn’t know how to interact with such a sister, and sensing Shinomiya’s feelings, Rokai had also kept her distance.
The years that had passed had created this much distance.
“For now, have a seat.”
“…Yes.”
Shinomiya indicated the sofa to her, and Rokai nodded and sat down. Shinomiya thought about offering coffee but didn’t feel up to the task and sat down at a slightly distant spot on the same sofa.
Then, silence flowed between the two for a while. Time passed idly as they didn’t know what to say or how to start a conversation. Rokai looked around the room restlessly, occasionally glancing at Shinomiya and, upon confirming Shinomiya’s gaze wasn’t directed at her, slumped her shoulders. Shinomiya, not knowing what expression to face her with, kept staring out the window in complete silence.
Seeing Shinomiya’s strained expression, Rokai swallowed hard and began.
“I’ve… always regretted it.”
At these words, Shinomiya looked at her. Their eyes both wavered with unease.