"I want Yukinoshita Haruno to make truly free choices."
At this point he seemed a little embarrassed, coughed, then added, "But jumping straight to a double suicide is way too dramatic. Even Dazai Osamu had to try several times. At the very least, step one should be running off to some tiny southern country and starting over there, right?"
Crack—something inside her quietly shattered.
Her heart clenched, and an indescribable emotion surged through her body—warmth, a tremor.
Under the piled-up snow, emotions were gathering, quietly sprouting new shoots.
Thump, thump, thump—she could hear her heart pounding.
This… idiot.
Yukinoshita Haruno stared at him for a long time. Then, as if the clouds had scattered and an early spring sun had been lifted by a gust of wind, her brows and eyes suddenly brightened—
She smiled, like a bouquet of flowers blooming all at once.
She leaned in, looping an arm around his shoulder. The eyes that could always carry a hundred different meanings now held only simple, unfiltered joy.
"Hmm, so in the end, you really did decide to elope with your older sister?"
"That's the only conclusion you got from that?!" Kiyono was dumbfounded.
"So this is what they mean by the joy of 'raising' someone… It feels pretty good. Looks like all my years of painstaking care weren't wasted after all…"
"Are you drifting off into your own delusions now?!"
Even though Kiyono hadn't held her like a storybook prince to gently soothe her, and even though this night wasn't the kind that made a person forget everything—
It was still a night she would never forget.
She carefully took in everything before her, imprinting her feelings in this moment.
So she could recall it whenever she wanted.
Just then, both Kiyono and Yukinoshita Haruno let out a soft breath of surprise. The stalled Ferris wheel began to move again, slowly turning. They instinctively looked out the window as neon lights blinked back on one after another, filling their eyes with tiny reflected stars. The fairy-tale kingdom regained its magic: carousels galloped beneath the starlight, music boxes played stories of princes and princesses, and the castle gleamed with brilliant light—it was all too beautiful.
By the time their gondola returned to the ground, fifteen minutes had passed.
Down in front of the rides, the atmosphere was a bit chaotic. Groups of visitors had gathered, their faces showing everything from lingering fear to raw excitement. Parents clutching their children looked shaken, thrill-seeking boys were worked up and excited, and girls were caught between exhilaration and fright. It was the kind of scare people would be talking about for years—especially those who'd been stranded on the roller coaster. For them, this was clearly an unforgettable experience.
The staff stood in a neat row, bowing over and over with deep, solemn apologies—so sincere it felt like they were a step away from performing samurai seppuku to atone.
As soon as Kiyono and Yukinoshita Haruno stepped back onto the main street, Yukinoshita Yukino hurried toward them. She tried to maintain her composure, but the worry in her voice leaked through.
"…Are you alright?"
The entire time, she'd been on edge, unable to bear imagining anything happening to the two of them.
"If something had happened, you wouldn't be seeing us now, Little Yukino," Haruno said with a radiant smile, looking unusually cheerful.
"Even if Godzilla attacked, I'd still protect everything," Kiyono said in a low, solemn voice.
"Don't just say things like that so casually," Yukino scolded, frowning—pointedly ignoring a certain person.
"Alright, alright. Let's just call it a rare experience," Kiyono said. "Do you still want to keep playing?"
Haruno shook her head. "I've already seen a fairy tale tonight."
…Big sister is acting a bit strange.
Glancing at her, Yukino felt her worry turn into something more complicated.
On the street, the last floats of the parade finished their final circuit, tossing out candy that fell like petals. Banners and balloons drifted into the night sky like a girl's dreams taking flight.
After such a high, a faint melancholy naturally followed.
It was like the moment when fireworks went out, the instant a festival ended, or the quiet after waking from an extraordinary dream back into ordinary life.
The ink-black sky carried a hint of pink, and the streets were almost empty. Snowflakes fluttered down, slowly covering storefronts and parked cars in white, as if decorating this reluctant, lingering night.
Crunch, crunch, crunch.
The three of them walked side by side along the cold street, their footsteps pressing soft marks into the snow, warm white breaths trailing from their lips. No one suggested going home, as if any words might break the spell of the moment.
Haruno looked at her sister, blinking playfully.
"Little Yukino, do you want to know what we did in the Ferris wheel after the power went out?"
"You probably just huddled together in fear," Yukino replied coolly, glancing at her.
Haruno smiled. "You can picture it like a scene from those movies, where the male and female leads face some life-or-death crisis together."
In stories, what sparks the wildest imagination is always the blank space. On that untouched canvas, the audience can spin their own scenes however they like. Judging from Yukino's now darkening expression, she had clearly imagined something very movie-like—"deep kissing," "confessing feelings," "emotions heating up," and so on.
She pressed her lips together, tamping down her emotions, and said with a trace of sarcasm:
"Movies are dramatized. In reality, only lower animals in nature would think about romance between men and women in a life-and-death situation, right?"
"What kind of animals do you think Kiyono and I are, Yukino?" Haruno's HP remained untouched; she simply followed along, cheerfully fanning the flames.
Yukino gave up on this pointless argument and kept walking.
After a while—
"Ah, I'm a bit hungry. How about finding something to eat?" Haruno said.
"Let's sit down for a while…" Yukino's voice also sounded slightly tired.
Kiyono, of course, had no objections, and the three of them drifted toward a nearby commercial street.
At this hour, only chain restaurants and izakayas with red lanterns still glowed with light. Standing outside the doors, they could feel the blast of warmth and hear the boisterous laughter, as if even the snow couldn't survive at the threshold.
"Let's eat here!" Haruno stopped, full of energy.
"We're not even old enough to drink…" Yukino sighed.
"It's fine. Just because it's called an izakaya doesn't mean we have to drink."
Haruno smiled and took her sister's hand. At this point, the votes were one-to-one, and both sisters turned to look at Kiyono. Putting on a serious face, he declared:
"Meat, alcohol, and lofty talk about empires and beauties—ah, yes. Perfect."
"Are you a greasy middle-aged man?" Yukino twitched an eyebrow, glaring at him.
Still, with two votes to one, she could only reluctantly follow—also because there really wasn't anywhere else still open. Once inside, she looked around curiously; this was her first time in a place like this.
The square dining room was small. The wooden counter bore the scars of time, and the menu was a simple strip with a few dish names pasted on it; more often than not, people just shouted their orders. At the neighboring tables, office workers with loosened ties and crossed legs talked loudly, as though trying to vent away the frustrations of their day.
The owner was an old granny with a head of white hair. Though her face was full of wrinkles, her movements were quick, and her voice was strong. The woman helping her was probably her daughter.
"Do normal izakayas also sell sweets?" Yukino sat down, glanced at the menu, and asked Kiyono quietly.
He followed her gaze. By the counter was a small glass display case with daifuku and traditional confections. Next to it stood a donation box like those at shrines, and an Inari statue was enshrined in a small alcove behind it.
"She probably makes them herself when she has time," he said.
Yukino nodded. She preferred light-tasting food, so in the end she ordered fried rice, stewed daikon, mochi, and some traditional sweets.
Kiyono and Haruno's tastes were similar. They chose large plates of assorted skewers, fried chicken balls, and basically every meat dish available. Haruno even wanted a cold beer, but under her sister's icy stare, she had to compromise and order orange juice—same as Kiyono.
To get back at her, Haruno stood up and called toward the counter:
"Granny, please add extra chili to our fried rice!"
"I don't want any!" Yukino glared.
"The one paying gets to decide what's ordered," Haruno replied with a bright smile.
"Is that so?" Yukino looked over at Kiyono and snorted. "Shouldn't the one paying for our food be this Mr. Wallet here?"
"Well… that's also true," Haruno said thoughtfully.
"What? How dare you call a noble man of letters a mere wallet!? At least put 'wise, mighty, mature, and reliable' in front of 'wallet'!" Kiyono protested. "Granny! Please add extra sugar and soy sauce to their skewers and fried rice!"
"Hm!?"
Both Yukinos narrowed their eyes and, as if on instinct, reached out from either side to pinch his cheeks and pull.
"Let go! Your hands can only go this far, you're not allowed to—"
Their noisy bickering made the old granny smile fondly as she watched. After a while, she brought plate after plate to their table.
Haruno picked up a skewer and took a big bite, her movements a mix of elegance and boldness. "You really have to eat meat at night."
"Eat too much greasy food and you'll wreck your stomach and your figure," Yukino countered.
"It's fine. Your big sister has a cheat-code metabolism—she doesn't gain weight no matter how much she eats." Haruno downed half her drink in one go and smiled. "Little Kiyono can testify to that."
"I'm just an emotionless wallet," Kiyono said expressionlessly.
"Yukino, try this gift from Mr. Wallet."
Haruno smiled sweetly and reached over, transferring a skewer without chili from Kiyono's plate into Yukino's fried rice.
Yukino lowered her gaze. The golden-browned pork belly sat atop her rice, sending up waves of rich aroma.
Fat and meat.
It was a combination humans instinctively struggled to resist.
Even beautiful girls weren't immune.
Her pride and dignity told her to hold back, but her body moved on its own, and she took a small bite.
The crisp surface and the flavor of the fat spread across her tongue—different from her usual light, healthy food, a vivid flavor all its own.
Yukino looked up at Haruno.
Under the warm yellow light, Haruno's lips were curved in a smile, but it felt softer, more genuine than usual.
Seeing her like this, Yukino's heart suddenly stirred.
This was a side of her sister she rarely saw—eating grilled meat with gusto, drinking in a tiny, noisy izakaya, behaving in ways completely unfitting for a Yukinoshita lady.
And yet, when she thought about it, it suited her perfectly.
Will Onee-san live like this in the future…?
She couldn't help picturing that future—
After Haruno inherited the family, her hair a bit longer than it was now, dressed more formally, and every night dragging Kiyono out to drink somewhere. Sometimes they would sit in places like this, surrounded by salarymen. Other times they'd pick stylish bars, fully savoring the freedom of the night.
"If—"
Haruno murmured:
"If Little Yukino grows up, will she also drink with Kiyono like this?"
How annoying. Even in a place like this, they're in sync, she thought.
Yukino said softly, "I won't drink."
"Heh, you never know. That job is much more boring and tedious than you think. But instead of drinking, I can imagine you more like: 'Kiyono, I messed up another deal today, what do I do, what do I do?'"
Haruno chuckled mischievously.
"Don't underestimate me too much…"
A night still tinged with fairy-tale colors. An izakaya in heavy snow. A rowdy atmosphere. A future about to be decided. Time that would never repeat.
It wasn't the kind of conversation they usually had, but the words flowed out naturally.
In the futures they each imagined, that person was always there.
Without realizing it, they could no longer picture a future without him.
However—
Choosing the older sister meant the younger sister's wish might never be granted.
Choosing the younger sister meant trampling on the older sister's life.
Maybe this was just another form of irreconcilable conflict.
It couldn't be helped. Everyone's life would eventually involve choices, worries, heartbreak, resentment, and partings. Even family members would one day go their separate ways.
Yukinoshita Yukino stared quietly at her sister, her clear eyes as resolute as ever.
She was still lacking in courage, still hesitating, still going in circles, still unable to speak her heart, unable to get results, unable to change things, unable to solve problems—
—And even so, Yukinoshita Yukino still wanted to pray.
To gather all the feelings she had for that person: her admiration for you, her dislike for you, the family bond she couldn't sever, the childhood shadows, the words she couldn't say. Gathering them all, tying them together, weaving them into one beautiful wish.
She hoped—she prayed—for this.