Gimai Seikatsu

The girl had cut off her long hair.

In a romance , something like this would be regarded as a drastic event, but in reality, it wasn’t anything to be shocked or surprised about. Because it was hot. Because it was annoying to deal with. Because the person wanted a change of pace or mood. Considering all these reasons as to why a girl would possibly cut her hair, it was practically meaningless to judge this as a great change in the person’s state of mind or mindset. You might even call such suspicions boorish. Thus, you should accept it as a simple event and just get used to the new hairstyle.

For myself, Asamura Yuuta, that would be the expected reaction, namely to acknowledge it as something perfectly ordinary and routine. Naturally, since we hadn’t been step-siblings for that long of a time, and since this was the first time I had experienced this in person, I couldn’t say this with abundant confidence. This was one of the times I’d love to ask all older step-brothers in the world for guidance.

But before that, I never would have imagined that my old man, who is past his forties, would bring home a beautiful older lady who had taken care of him at a bar he frequented. Nor would I ever expect him to get married to her. When I first heard about this decision, what first came to mind wasn’t happiness and joy, but rather worry and anxiety.

Will this be okay? What if she’s just deceiving him? These thoughts kept me up at night. I had witnessed the divorce between him and my real mother in person, so for me, I’ve never held high expectations for women in general. Fights that lasted entire nights, a distant and disinterested gaze towards her husband and child, cheating without a second thought… After being raised in an environment where neglect was practically a small break from the terror, when I heard about the divorce, I felt relieved more than sad.

My image of a woman was my own mother. She acted all-important and always right in both accusations and actions, forcing her expectations onto both me and my old man, only to act haughtily disappointed if we couldn’t fulfill them. She was kind of nasty, in my opinion. As a result, I at one point started to abandon any expectations I might have had of other people. Because of this, when my new step-sister told me her own opinions on the matter, I felt more relieved than anything.

“I won’t have any great expectations from you, so I want you to do the same for me.”

These words sounded like pure desire for an honest and faithful human relationship. Not demanding anything from the person she’d be living with from now on, but she also wouldn’t hold back more than necessary. In short, we would adjust to each other. A relationship that would allow us both to be honest with each other was something I gratefully accepted. That’s the kind of person Ayase Saki is.

Things should work like that, so that we can become the kind of step-siblings my old man and Akiko-san want us to be. That is how I truly felt. However, there was one significant difference. I couldn’t be bothered to fight against the immense pressure people brought with them when approaching me. I instead decided to take it in and let it blow past me like a breeze. When it comes to most complaints and objections from other people, I don’t defy them.

However, Ayase-san is different from me. She wasn’t happy just yielding to the eyes of the world and the people around her. In addition, she was strong enough of a person to crush anybody who dared to categorize her based on stereotypes. In order to become a person who could live independently by her own strength, she studied extensively to raise her grades, keeping top scores for every exam. On top of that, she took great care in her appearance so that any bystander would call her beautiful.

“To me, my appearance is an armament.”

Earrings shining brightly on her ears, golden-colored hair shone like the dazzling sun, and yet Ayase-san fought. Witnessing her fight on a daily basis from the front row seats, I eventually started to feel curious about her, as well as fond of her.

Then, at the end of August, roughly three months after we had started living together, Ayase-san cut her hair. That in itself most likely wasn’t that exceptional of an ordeal. Only in dramas or s does a woman getting a haircut have any particular meaning. However, another month after that, there was another change that occurred.

“I’m home, Ayase-san.”

“Welcome back, Asamura-kun.”

—The times we could have this kind of exchange decreased drastically.

The season had changed to fall. When I opened up our apartment’s door, I announced my return from my part-time job in a quiet voice. I walked down the dimly-lit hallway and entered the living room. Empty. Since my old man is a salaryman, he was already asleep at this point, and since Akiko-san worked night shifts, she was out as well. Only Ayase-san should be awake at this point, but she was most likely studying, or already asleep, seeing as there was no response. Instead, I spotted dinner placed on the dining table, wrapped up in plastic.

“Oh, hamburger steak.”

On a small note next to the plate was written ‘Please warm this up in the microwave’. The rice was still in the rice cooker, and the miso soup inside the pot. I found some salad in the fridge. It was the same as always, and since I had gotten used to this procedure for the past few weeks, I warmed up what I needed to and sat down.

“Time to dig in.”

I cut the hamburger steak in half with my chopsticks, and cheese appeared from the inside.

“Nice, cheese filling.”

Ayase-san’s cooking skills continued to improve with each passing day, and since I was only used to store-bought or restaurant hamburger steak, what Ayase-san created for me seemed almost magical. Though if I had told her that, she would probably have just brushed it off with her usual “It’s not anything special.”

I instinctively glanced towards Ayase-san’s room. It’s still a bit early for mid-term exams, but recently it seems like she’s always been studying whenever I get home. We’ve barely been eating together lately. She’s still working part-time at the bookstore same as me, but thanks to a lot of shift changes, we aren’t seeing each other there as frequently either.

I wonder if she’s avoiding me. I shook my head, erasing that thought from my mind. There’s no way that’s true. Whenever we do run into each other, she treats me the same as she always has, and since we’re both in high school, there’s no reason for us step-siblings to be together 24/7. And yet, the warmed hamburger steak in front of me suddenly felt cold again.

“‘Nii-san,’ huh?”

Ever since that day, Ayase-san has never called me anything but that.